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    Yeoldebard
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Raising Evzen - 4. Understanding

The last of the med gel washed out of his fur. Sasha shook his body, running his fingers through the softening fur to make sure the liquid from the tank was gone. He didn’t want to spread any of it through the house. It was bad enough that the cloying smell of warm vanilla seemed stuck to his fur, invading his nose with every inhalation.

A third of a bell in the shower had him clean, 40 breaths seeing him back in a uniform clean from blood. Taking a breath to steel himself, Sasha walked out of the bathroom, looking like a Faro who had never been touched in his life.

Radek was already in the kitchen, slaving away over a hot oven.

“Make the salad. I am almost finished with the rolls,” the Daknar grunted.

Grabbing his long gloves, Sasha reached into a cupboard, pulling out a large steel bowl. A selection of eggs went into a pot of water, and the Faro turned the heat on, already sweating even with the door in the laundry room open to provide airflow.

Slowly the eggs boiled, Sasha collecting his other supplies as Radek paused for a large glass of water.

“Thank you for your help,” the Faro said quietly.

“What help? I’m not going back to being the only slave here,” Radek scoffed. “And Pan would not be pleased if you died. I do not want to deal with that.”

“Trust me, I know you have other reasons. But I’m still in one piece for now, so thank you.”

“I should have warned you Pan Evžen does not play nice,” Radek chuckled quietly. “We had another Daknar when I was bought for Paní Tanya. When Pan Evžen was ten draks old, we found the Daknar with his wings cut off. Pan Evžen said he needed a sail for a boat he made on the river.”

“And he was able to remove a Daknar’s wings at that age?!”

“He found a way,” Radek shrugged.

“If you were bought for Paní Tanya, why are you here?”

“Because I was never able to learn proper lab procedures. So she took my hatchling instead. He… bonded with her,” the Daknar admitted shamefully. “Paní Tanya said it will keep her safer to have Jun guarding her.”

“I suppose it would. She’s studying Daknar bonds, correct?” Sasha asked, carefully peeling the eggs.

A figure wandered through the kitchen behind them, Evžen padding softly past with a tired look in his eyes. The Lidikrys still wore his rumpled bedclothes, something Sasha would have thought was inappropriate for breakfast.

“Good morning Pane Evžen.”

The Faro bowed slightly to the Lidikrys, who frowned back.

“Thought you were gone…”

He yawned, and continued into the breakfast nook off the kitchen. Climbing into a chair, the Lidikrys laid his head on the table, closing his eyes.

“It’s what happens when you miss a storm around here,” Radek shrugged. “Try not to get your ass kicked in and he’ll start to expect you around more. Why did he attack you anyway? Not that he needs a reason.”

“I upset him,” Sasha shrugged.

Even if he hadn’t been told to keep what he saw a secret, there was no need for the Daknar to know that Evžen’s father had mentally scarred his son. It would take a while for Sasha to undo the damage as it was. Letting Radek gossip would only make things worse.

“Is Paní Adéla expected back soon?” the Faro asked instead, starting to mash the egg yolks into a mix of spiced mustard, yogurt, and creamed cheese.

“She is at her parents’ house for another two storms, then she will return. It is hard on Paní Adéla to be without the slaves of her family. She was sold to Pan for favours,” Radek whispered conspiratorially.

“Really? I heard it was because Pan had gotten Paní Adéla pregnant. The marriage was forced to save face,” Sasha replied, trying to figure out why anyone would let the Novák patriarch get them pregnant.

The eggs went into another bowl, mashing together with the whites as the Faro added ground pepper to the mix. Radek pulled a sheet of dark rolls out of the oven, the smell of baked bread filling the kitchen and beyond until it was blown away by a stiff wind.

They carried the finished breakfast to the table as Bohdan sat down. A tablet was set beside the master of the house, the storm’s news ready for him to read. Bread was buttered with honey, a plate of egg salad set before both him and his son, and Bohdan glared at Sasha.

“Where were you last storm?”

“In the med tank, Pane,” Sasha said, head lowered.

“Has my son been giving you trouble?”

Sasha made a split decision, his eyes glancing at the slumbering Evžen.

“No, Pane.”

“Good. Maybe he’s finally growing up,” the Lidikrys snorted. “Please explain to me why he is not dressed for the day.”

“I was unaware he needed my assistance in dressing. It was my mistake, Pane. It will never happen again.”

“You should have known,” Bohdan scowled, casting a glare at Radek.

“Yes Pane.”

“Evžen!”

The rat’s bark startled his son, and Evžen nearly tipped his salad as he sat up quickly. Sasha’s hand shot out, steadying the bowl.

“You will not touch the piano this storm. You will be learning Imperial history under Sasha instead.”

“I don’t wanna-”

“You will learn Imperial history. That is final,” Bohdan snapped. “Both of your siblings have gone into the Navy. I will not allow you to make a mockery of their work.”

“Pane Evžen, have you ever heard of the Lidikrys’ daring escape from a black hole?” Sasha asked quietly.

The Lidikrys’ ears perked up in interest, his whiskers twitching as he stared at the Faro.

“Mistr Jacob always told me you cannot have a solid grasp on Imperial history without knowing where the Empire came from. And where the Empire came from was a dangerous struggle for survival.”

Evžen started scooping salad into his mouth, hurrying through breakfast.

“Radek, you will be making supper,” Bohdan said suddenly. “Do not allow Sasha into the kitchen until he has shown willingness to follow the instructions of his master.”

“Yes, Pane,” Radek said, casting a sidelong glance at Sasha.

“I’m finished with breakfast,” Evžen said, slapping his utensils down.

He hurried from the table, Sasha quick on his heels. The two passed by the kitchen, stepping into a hall that led to two separate bedrooms with a bathroom at the end. Turning left into Evžen’s room, Sasha found the Lidikrys already waiting in front of his dresser.

“Pane, perhaps you might learn to dress yourself,” the slave suggested quietly as he stepped into the closet between Tomas’ and Evžen’s bedrooms. “All the Navy officers are expected to keep themselves neat and clean, and it is not a good look for a Navy officer to have a slave dressing him.”

Evžen stared at the Faro as Sasha reemerged, the Lidikrys’ eyes narrowing.

“Father said all I’d be good for is marrying Mistr Ambroz. Why would I go to the Navy?”

“Do you wish to do as your father wants you to?” Sasha questioned. “To marry another Lidikrys, another male Lidikrys, means you would be almost as much a slave as me. You would be forced to give me up, to do exactly as your husband commanded. You would never play the piano again, or have a nightlight to keep the darkness away.”

The Faro undressed his master as he spoke, painting a picture of the life Pan Novák had planned for his son. Evžen shuddered at the thought, his eyes lidding as he stared at the Faro.

“Why would you help me escape him?” the Lidikrys asked suspiciously.

“Because I am your slave, Pane. Yes, I am obligated to your father as a master, but he bought me for you, and it is your print upon my collar.”

“So… so if I told you… to kick Radek in the nuts?”

“I would do it, Pane,” Sasha said, not allowing the smirk to steal over his lips.

“If I told you to let me play the piano?”

Sasha’s ears fell at that request.

“Pane, only your father can give that permission. But I could not stop you if you were to do it. Nor could I protect you from your father’s anger, which I am told is fearsome indeed.”

Evžen frowned at his pet, arms spreading to allow the Faro to clothe him. He paused suddenly, and reached forward, taking the button down shirt from Sasha.

“I don’t know how to put this on… If I put it on, Father won’t make me marry Mistr Ambroz?”

“If you learn well, and pay attention to your studies, and if you work to get into the Navy, Pan Novák will not make you marry Mistr Ambroz.”

Sasha’s voice dropped down to a conspiratorial whisper.

“He won’t be able to make you marry Mistr Ambroz as you’ll be gliding through the galaxy on a ship faster than light, enjoying the sights of the constellations and the nebulae we pass on the way to whoever needs the Empire to whip them into shape.”

And Evžen would be bound to the Navy, a slave of the Empire as much as Sasha was his. But the Faro wasn’t going to mention that detail.

Evžen slipped his hands through the arms of the shirt, and pulled the front halves together. His fingers tried to push the buttons into the shirt, and the Lidikrys growled at his failure.

“It’s impossible, I can’t do it.”

“Nothing is impossible if you set your mind to it, Pane,” Sasha said gently, holding the shirt together. “Try sliding the buttons through sideways, instead of pushing them flat.”

“Why do I even have to learn? You’ll do it for me.”

“Pane, a Navy officer is held to high standards. One of those standards is that they do not hold their pets close. I can keep dressing you, and when there are important people to meet, I probably will. But you would be ridiculed by your peers if you could not dress yourself.”

“But you would stop them, right?”

Sasha shook his head.

“Are you asking me to hurt a master? Pane, I cannot do that. It would end badly for you.”

Fingers buttoned the Lidikrys’ shirt, and Sasha had his master step into a pair of pants. Knocking the Faro’s hands aside, Evžen pulled the pants up himself, shoving the tails of his shirt into them. Dressed in now wrinkled clothes, the Lidikrys glared at himself in a mirror.

“I did it wrong.”

His hands pulled the shirt down, trying to fit more of it into his pants. Sasha reached forward, unbuttoning Evžen’s pants. Pulling the shirt out, he straightened the wrinkles as best he could, before carefully tucking the shirt back into Evžen’s pants.

“There. You just need a more gentle hand. And do you know how you can develop a more balanced touch?”

“Tell me how,” Evžen demanded.

“By working with a violin bow. Perhaps if Pan Novák approves, after your lessons, I can show you how to play the violin in the keeping room.”

This time the Faro let a smirk play over his face.

“If we time it right, we can annoy Radek while he’s making supper.”

A cackling laugh escaped his master, and Sasha reached over to shut off the nightlight before leading Evžen to the library. He had six bells to teach the Lidikrys basic Imperial history before they could even approach the violin, but the Faro was happy enough to find a reward for his master.

Copyright © 2021 Yeoldebard; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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There must be a culinary use for these rats that the Daknar could use!! I don't think a less enviable collection of characters exist anywhere!

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25 minutes ago, drsawzall said:

There must be a culinary use for these rats that the Daknar could use!! I don't think a less enviable collection of characters exist anywhere!

Eh, Daknar are vegan. It might be a little hard to eat a Lidikrys.

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