A Jewel in the Dirt - 20. Mission: De-escalation

Dante gave Henry a tour of the house, just as Mikey had done for him not long ago. As they stood outside Mistress Alice's door, however, Dante paused. In Denser's Port, sons were usually raised in their own families and then, as a finished result, proudly displayed and sold; he had no idea how Mistress Alice had meant it when she asked him to take care of Henry.

Henry noticed his hesitation and turned pale again, after a healthy color had just returned to his face.

"She doesn't like it very much to be disturbed," Dante said, as if it were absolutely no problem, and pushed the door open briskly. "This here," he said in the same chatty tone as earlier in the tour, "are our mistress's rooms. There is the bathroom and... there..." He broke off when it occurred to him that he had no idea where Henry was supposed to sleep. There was definitely no room for a second bed in the small slave room, after all. "Mistress?"

Mistress Alice growled and pushed back the headphones, but kept her eyes on the monitor. "What's up?"

"Where do you want Henry to sleep?"

"I told you to take care of him."

"I heard, but that doesn't get him a bed. He's your responsibility." He could see her tense and then turn her head a tiny bit in his direction, though it wasn't enough to look at him.

"I don't care."

Puzzled, he looked at her. "Mistress..."

Beside him, Henry tried to make himself small.

"Speaking of which... you will go to town tomorrow and get him some clothes. You'll get a letter of attorney from me and the money from Ma."

"... yes, mistress." He blinked in surprise, but before he could ask further how exactly Henry was to blend into the household, she put the headphones back on. The conversation was over.

Henry made a soft noise, as if he were laboriously trying to stifle a sob; he hugged his backpack to himself and stared at the floor. Seeing a tear drip onto the floorboards, Dante gave himself a push.

"Mistress."

With an exaggeratedly annoyed sigh, she pushed the headphones back once more. "What, Dante?"

"I want to make a few things clear, Mistress." He clasped his hands behind his back and squared his shoulders; she turned in her chair to face him and eyed him coolly.

"... well?"

"So you want me to take care of Henry, right?"

"I made that perfectly clear."

"Fine. But then, please, equal rights for all." Maybe he was provoking her a little too much with that, because he could see her pinched mouth twitching, but he thought her behavior toward this boy was completely wrong.

Questioningly, she raised a brow.

"Take the cage off him."

"Why should I?"

"Then give me mine."

She didn't respond and so they looked at each other and Dante prayed he wasn't about to make a big stupid mistake right now. He broke eye contact and stepped toward her desk, pulling open the drawer where she kept his cage, including the key, rather carelessly- she grabbed him by the wrist. "What exactly are you doing?"

"Taking my cage."

"What for?"

He looked at her, her grip tightening and slowly becoming painful. "It's not proper for you to treat your slaves differently."

"You don't have the same status."

"If his status is indeed even lower than mine, you must send him down to the workers and place him under your father's responsibility." He deserved the slap he got for that, but at least he had made his point.

"He's a house slave, not a worker," she clarified coolly, reaching into the drawer. "As soon as you go back outside, he's under Seth."

Agreeing, he tilted his head, noting with slight relief that she had taken the key to Henry's cage. With pointed fingers, she removed the cage and tossed it, clinking, into the desk.

"Are all the questions settled now?"

He took a breath to discuss the sleeping place problem, but then changed his mind. "Yes, mistress." He would figure something out. Gently, he touched Henry on the shoulder. "Come..."

"I can sleep on the floor," Henry whispered, as soon as Dante had closed the door of the small slave room behind them.

"No." he returned firmly. The room was too narrow for a second bed, the bed itself was too narrow for two people, even if Henry hadn't been chubby but as prepubescent scraggy as Maisie or Jessy. I could sleep over at Frank's, Dante reasoned, and hadn't really finished thinking when a snot bubble popped in front of Henry's nose.

The boy sniffled and wiped his face with his sleeve.

The sight hurt and Dante sat down on the bed, patting beside him. "Come rest for five minutes first."

Stiff as a poker, Henry sat down beside him, hesitantly setting his backpack on the floor.

"I don't know what's wrong with her. She's usually not so... dismissive."

Henry sniffled.

Carefully, Dante stroked his back, but that didn't seem to help one bit; on the contrary, Henry began to shake terribly. "Henry... Henry, it's okay, you hear?"

"I..." Henry sobbed and with gentle force Dante pulled him close, wrapped his arms around him and stroked his hair.

"It's okay... I was twelve once too, I know what it's like to have to leave home."

Two heartbeats later, Henry slumped down and began to cry so heartbreakingly that it brought tears to Dante's eyes as well. At the children's home, there had always been boys who had been in such a state already days before they left. And now Henry had also been given a mistress who couldn't stand him from the first second.

~

Henry cried for a long time.

Dante's two shirts were full of snot and tears as he finally pushed a calm but exhausted Henry gently away from him. He took both off, wiped the boy's face with a clean sleeve, and stepped over to his dresser- he would have to rearrange the contents to make room for Henry's things- and grabbed some fresh clothes. As done as Henry was with the world right now, he couldn't leave him alone right away the first night either. "Go wash your face. After that, we'll go down to the kitchen and make dinner with the others, okay?"

"Okay..." muttered Henry, standing up.

"The dark blue towels are ours."

"Okay..."

They were exceedingly punctual, as Mikey and TJ had just arrived as well, Seth appearing half a minute after them.

Dante introduced Henry and Seth gave an explanatory monologue, meanwhile TJ pulled Dante aside.

"This may sound stupid to your ears because you're not used to it, but the local understanding is that you're brothers now. It's actually taken very seriously here, and if I judge Miss Alice correctly, she won't give a damn about the boy. Mistress Carolyn also just dumped Mikey at my feet, but...", TJ pulled a strange face, "your mistress is a bit different..."

Dante nodded mutely, gave TJ a grateful pat on the back, and looked to Seth, who just asked:

"Do you have any experience in the kitchen?"

"A little," Henry answered quietly. That little bit of experience meant that Henry was significantly faster and more shapely at peeling and cutting vegetables than Dante was.

Since the mood was somewhat tense, Dante took himself for a ride, fooling around silly with TJ and even joining him in singing an old corny love song, which elicited at least a giggle from Henry. The boy was actually extremely interested in cooking, and Dante could see dozens of questions about it burning on his tongue. However, he was far too shy to actually ask them, and he kept giving uncertain glances to Dante, who always answered with an encouraging smile.

Later, as he took the plates out of the cupboard, TJ- turning to Henry- said:

"Watch and learn how the master serves."

"Maybe you're more skilled than TJ," Seth said with a sigh, clinking the silverware.

"It was only two plates!" TJ defended himself, and Mikey scoffed:

"Well, Tom and Frank could make you wooden plates to practice on."

"Not such a bad idea," Dante said, ducking to the side as Mikey siphoned the potatoes and hot clouds of steam rose. Before Henry could answer, however, the sound of "Hey, is dinner ready?" came from the doorway.

"Of course you're not coming until the work is done." Dante eyed Flynn, who looked rather tired and had damp hair- what he had spent the past hour on wasn't hard to guess.

"At least I burned calories and earned my dinner," Flynn sneered, taking the silverware from Seth.

"Oh Sugar Blossom...", TJ sighed theatrically and Dante grinned at him.

"Let's build a bed of hay for tonight..." he resumed the old love song.

"Lay down and watch the stars in the sky..." TJ sang back, but before they could continue, Seth rumbled:

"Not again. Shoo, shoo, the ladies are hungry."

~

Since the problem with Henry's sleeping space hadn't cleared up into thin air, a solution was needed, and Dante bit his lower lip while thinking as he wiped off the dining room table.

"You look like you're in pain," Frank said in a strange tone, and Dante looked up.

"No. I'm thinking. We have a bit of a sleeping space problem..."

Frank's eyes flashed and the corners of his mouth twitched, but his tone was decidedly neutral. "Take the bed out and put a second mattress on the floor."

"There should be a mattress upstairs in the closet," TJ spoke up and began sweeping up the crumbs Dante had wiped off the table with the rag.

"Hmm. It's probably the easiest thing. Frank, will you help me with the bed?"

"Sure..."

Half an hour later, the job was done and Henry was putting up bedding."It may not be pretty, but it's practical," he said quietly, as if he had to convince himself first.

Dante sighed. "I wish there was a better solution."

"I don't want to steal your bed."

"Bullshit..." Dante shook his head, but there probably just wouldn't be a better solution, except maybe a custom-made bed, but even that would need a special mattress, and it wouldn't give them any more space. The whole Henry-matter caught Dante completely off guard and Mistress Alice's attitude towards it was annoying in the first moment, but in the second train of thought he simply asked himself the question: why? She hadn't wanted him either, but he hadn't been given the cold shoulder so entirely.

Lost in thought, he brought the dirty laundry downstairs, brushed his teeth, wished Mistress Alice a good night- he got only a wordless hum in reply- and finally froze, dumbfounded, as he entered the slave room.

Henry was kneeling on the floor next to the mattresses, naked, his hands clasped behind his back and his legs spread in such a way that he actually presented himself. Thus exposed, it was clearly visible that he was more boy than teenager.

"Hell and Eden, what are you doing?"

"My grandma...", Henry squeezed his eyes shut and Dante could see how hard it must be for him to speak on, "my grandma told me to offer myself. She said my mistress certainly wouldn't want me, but her personal slave..."

"That's meant pro forma, right?" Dante asked in horror.

"Of course not." Henry's voice was a mere whisper.

Dante blinked down at him, then squatted to face him. "Henry..."

The boy didn't respond.

"Henry, look at me." Since he still didn't respond, Dante took a pointedly slow, gentle grip on his chin. "The education contracts explicitly state that no sexual services of any kind can be required of you until you are of legal age. Not by anyone in this household."

Henry took a shaky breath, his whole body quivering as he did so.

"If you want to give something, that's another matter, but you honestly don't look like it. And even if: no, thank you."

They had to be tears of relief which now rolled down Henry's cheeks, and Dante gently wiped them away.

"I've been told we're brothers now. Older siblings look out for the younger ones, right? I'll look out for you, Henry, protect you, I promise. From the other slaves, the family, our mistress..." Dante felt quite bad himself at the sight of this little pile of misery. "Get dressed, will you? And then let's go to sleep. Did you bring anything from home to comfort you?"

Henry slumped down, then reached for his things. "Yeah."

Dante made himself comfortable on the mattress camp and Henry, now in his pajamas, pulled from his backpack a rag doll with reddish-blond braids matching his hair.
"Does the doll have a name?", Dante wanted to know carefully so as not to allow the silence to become awkward, and smiled encouragingly when Henry gave him a startled look.

"Lala. She's not going to take her away from me, is she?"

"No. Everything you brought is your property."

"You have possessions, too?"

"Yes. A few knickknacks, a few books..."

Henry nodded, lost in thought, and fiddled with the doll's braids.

For a moment Dante hesitated, but then decided it was enough for the first day. They would go to Townsend together tomorrow, and then there would still be plenty of time to talk and ask questions. "Sleep well."

"Good night, Dante."

He turned off the light and lay down, pulling up the covers and taking a deep breath. A little tense he listened for Henry's breathing, but the boy must have been really exhausted, because not much later the slow breaths were accompanied by a half snore. Relieved, Dante curled up and yawned into the pillow.

~

In the morning, Henry was stunned to see Frank having breakfast with Dante - or now both of them - and Dante told him how he came to be working with Frank and Tom. Well, he merely touched on the matter of the plug and the blowjob. Promptly Henry seemed as if he would rather not meet Tom, and to Dante's surprise Frank seemed to have no intention of changing anything about it. In general, he didn't say a single word, and even just gave a curt nod of goodbye before heading outside.

"Somehow everyone here has gone nuts," Dante muttered, half to himself, half to Henry, who was already filling the kettle.

Two hours later, they entered the clothing store for slaves where Dante had also been outfitted. The woman at the counter looked at them suspiciously.

"Good morning, miss." said Dante as politely as he could, "My mistress sent me with a letter of attorney to outfit her new slave."

The woman raised a brow and held out her hand to see said letter.

Dante handed it to her and she wrinkled her nose.

"Fine. Boy, get undressed and stand there." She gestured to the side, then looked at Dante. "For the boys, we usually recommend two sets right away, they still grow so fast and unexpectedly."

Dante nodded. "I don't think that's a problem. I have orders to have him dressed in standard." He pulled Miss Carolyn's money card from his pocket and the woman nodded before turning to the trembling and intensely flushed Henry. She measured him, then patted his cheek and typed a few things into her terminal.

Henry hurriedly dressed back.

"Name?"

"Henry Prescott." the boy answered quietly, looking to Dante as if he needed to make sure it was still true, but the education slaves kept their last names.

Dante nodded at him with a smile, and as Henry came close to him, almost seeking shelter, he put an arm around his shoulders.

It was not long before a slave appeared with the ordered items.

Dante paid and they left the store, loading the bags into the car and Henry was visibly confused when Dante relocked the car.

"Where are we going now?" So far they had only talked cautiously about the Mitchell household and Henry's duties there, all very tentative and shy, but at least Henry seemed to be gaining confidence in Dante.

"To the drugstore." Dante replied brightly, gesturing down the street. "Admittedly, it's a little early to teach you how to shave, but you should have your own shampoo at least."

Henry nodded simply and chewed on his lower lip until they reached the drugstore. While Dante grabbed a basket, Henry asked: "What exactly do I need?"

Dante raised a brow, as the question sounded oddly phrased. "Shampoo, shower gel, toothbrush... Stuff like that." He shrugged, because he definitely wouldn't come up with the full list on the fly.

Henry looked as strange as his question had sounded, but finally opened his mouth. "Can I pick something?" he dared to ask, whispering.

"Sure..." Dante pointed to the shelves. "Just nothing with cherry scent, that belongs to our mistress." Amused, he watched Henry sniff the bottles with enthusiasm and eagerness, reading labels intently. A body care set with an apple-cinnamon scent went into the basket, along with a hand cream with almond blossom. As Henry turned to the shampoos with unwavering enthusiasm, there was a chime from behind Dante:

"I forgot your name, boy, but you belong to Alice..."

He turned and saw Charles Horner coming toward him, an overflowing basket in his hand. "Dante, sir." He hinted at a bow.

"Where did you leave your mistress?" Charles seemed more curious than concerned, and Dante smiled wryly.

"She sent me off with a letter of attorney, sir. Her mood isn't the best right now."

Charles grinned. "Ah yes, the Mitchell temperament. She always seems like a gentle girl, but she's just as fiery as the rest of them. I'm sure you've had a taste of that."

"Most recently yesterday, sir." Dante didn't take offense at Charles' quiet condescension, and he didn't seem to mean any harm too, because now he sighed and shook his head.

"I don't understand what my son sees in her. Pretty thing, sure, a little skinny maybe, but... No, the two of them don't go together."

"I can't judge that, sir." Dante replied guardedly, and though it was an answer to be expected of slaves in one way or another, he meant it, for he spent little time with his mistress and Matthew he had only met a few times at all.

Charles nodded thoughtfully, as if Dante had spoken words of wisdom. "Give her my greetings. And tell her Maggie invites her to tea."

"Will do, sir." Dante again indicated a bow, and Charles trudged away.

Henry apparently hadn't noticed, because he was holding a shampoo bottle and looking at the lip balms as if he had to make a life-or-death decision. Dante saw his fingers hovering over 'Peony with Pearlescent' as he approached, but when Dante asked, "Found anything nice?" his hand jerked to the side and reached for a plain green chamomile lipstick. "I think I got it all," Henry muttered, blushing.

Dante left it at that and merely tossed a neutral deodorant into the basket in passing.

Then, in the car, Henry became anxious-nervous again.

"What have they told you about your new mistress beforehand?", Dante wanted to know; perhaps there had been some nasty gossip unsettling Henry.

"Not much.", Henry muttered, kneading his fingers in his lap.

"But something, anyway," Dante stated, but Henry remained silent. "Come on, Henry, I'm on your side. I mean, there's no man-eaters here or anything."

Henry sniffled.

Dante sighed. Maybe he was too impatient- most likely, in fact- but he wasn't comfortable with the overall situation. "Fine. If you-"

"She hates me."

"Excuse me?"

"She hates me. Everyone here does."

"Why would anyone?" Dante's gaze flickered to Henry, then back to the street. "You're a boy-"

"Mistress Alice has every reason to."

"Look, I highly doubt-"

"My uncle killed her brother." That was enough to thoroughly silence Dante.

~

"Mistress?"

"Dante, I'm working," came the annoyed reply.

"Should I get an appointment to talk? When would be convenient? Next week?" Actually, he hadn't meant to sound so snarky, but she had completely ignored Dante and Henry upon their return and Dante was pissed.

Her posture stiffened; he took a stance. Removing her headphones, she turned and looked at him with a pinched mouth. "What do you want?"

"You're treating Henry badly for absolutely no reason," he stated directly, as calmly as he could.

"For no reason..." she echoed.

"The accident wasn't his fault."

"Don't talk about things you know nothing about," she said coldly.

"He's just a boy, wasn't even born then, so-"

"Shut up!"

"You're finding an entire family guilty!" He raised his voice and something in her face changed, should have warned him, but it was too late for that. "Ruining Henry's life with unprovoked cruelty won't bring Anthony back to you either!"

"Shut the fuck up!" Mistress Alice's voice became an angry screech at the last syllables and even before the slap hit him, he knew he had indeed gone too far.

"It's the truth!" he nevertheless followed up and remained stock-still for the second slap as well. Let her take out her frustration on him - better than on Henry.

Surprisingly, at that moment, the boy opened the door. "Mistress!" He stumbled in and fell to his knees. "Mistress, please don't. Dante promised to protect me. Please, he just wants-"

"Shut up!"

Dante was aware that his sense of justice had once again taken the better of him, and as a result he had not thoroughly thought through the place, time, and choice of words. She would punish him- but would she overthink his words?

"You!" she hissed in Henry's direction. "Get out! I don't want to hear a peep out of you until bedtime!"

Henry got unsteadily to his feet and bowed low before scurrying out.

Dante took a deep breath as the door slammed shut. "Mistress-"

She just raised an index finger and he shut his mouth. With furious movements, she pulled his cage from her desk and, forestalling her command, he pushed down his pants. "Don't you ever speak of Anthony again." she hissed as the lock on the cage clicked. "Or your pink impotence cage will seem like a child's joke." She straightened to her full height and looked him in the eye from a short distance.

He had screwed up. Thoroughly. The good relationship with his mistress- the best ever- was gone. He lowered his eyes and swallowed, knowing the cage would not be the only punishment. "Mistress, I would like to ask your forgiveness for my choice of words and tone."

For an uncomfortably long moment she didn't respond, then she literally spat the next words at his feet: "Get out of my sight! And don't get the idea this doesn't apply to meals, too!"

"Understood, mistress." Quickly, but without making it look like escape, he left the room, closed the door behind him as quietly as possible, and then leaned against the wall. He closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, and chided himself for being an idiot. In Denser's Port, almost all the slaves had fought solely for themselves, and here, where it was different, he was of course approaching the problem from the wrong side.

An angry yell came through the closed door and then something splintered- probably Mistress Alice's teacup.

Dante really hoped she knew he was right and just didn't want to admit it to herself. But even if: he had crossed a line, a very personal one. He understood just enough of his mistress's angry curses to know she was calling him some ugly names, and he hoped, prayed, that her anger would fade by the time his sales ban expired in four months. Because as he stood there mulling over the situation, he realized he didn't want to leave.

He gritted his teeth and pushed himself off the wall.

He would endure his punishment and ask his mistress for forgiveness afterwards. If he might be able to swallow his damn pride he could even ask for a second chance.