Thiel leaned against the house behind him, eyes not wavering from the sight in front of him as he stretched out his bad leg. The Crystal Palace rose up in front of him, surrounded by a huge, forbidding wall. The wall stretched up many lengths in front of him before stopping and allowing one a view of the infamous seat of royalty. It was an amazing thing to behold, made of stone and glass, and was meant to blatantly display to newcomers just how powerful and wealthy the royal family was.
The sight didn't impress Thiel. He couldn't even remember the first time he'd seen it, since he'd spent his whole life living in the city of Kasimyr and even some of that time inside of the palace. However where once he had been welcomed, he was no longer, and that was the reason for his intense scrutiny.
His eyes sharpened in on the changing of the guards at the gate and he took note that it was only half an hour past midnight. This gate was one of the few side ones; the main one was facing east into the main part of the city. This one, much to the consternation of the nobles living inside, bordered on the less reputable side of Kasimyr. Thiel found it much easily to blend in here, in his rags and filth, than when he had staked out the main gate. His dirty garments easily melded into the shadows of the badly lit street and had, so far, concealed him well.
He took one last glance at the towering heights of glass in front of him, sneering at the thought of the King within, before standing up and moving away. His leg pained in protest, but it was an ache that Thiel had grown accustomed to over time. Unfortunately, it meant that his walk turned into a limp and he couldn't get anywhere very fast and innocuously. He tried to stick to the deeper shadows leant by the houses, but apparently the guards were feeling up to some sport. This gate was one of the most boring stations, especially the night duty, so the guards often terrorised the passerbys.
"Look what we have here!" one of them crowed, strolling forward to intercept Thiel. "Oi West, I think he's begging near the palace. Don't you know that's illegal, vagrant?"
The other guards – three of them – crowded in around Thiel so he had nowhere to escape to. He snarled at them all.
"I wasn't begging, you dim-wit," he snapped. It had taken a while, but he'd soon learnt to talk like the lower classes and lost his cultivated accent. "I wouldn't take shit from any of you."
"Oh ho, what's this, a prideful beggar?" another said, a malicious smile blossoming on his face. "I think you do need to be taught a lesson. We'll see how prideful you are when your mouth is full of my cock."
A cold sliver of fear went down his back, but he refused to let it show.
"Can't get it from your wife so you have to resort to a beggar, hey?" Thiel snarled. Iron arms grabbed onto his to restrain him, but he put up a fight like a wild cat. He writhed around, kicking his legs back until he caught the knee of one of the guards restraining him. One of his arms was freed and he whirled around onto the other one, fighting dirty. After a kick to the groin that guard let him go as well. He made to run away, ignoring the screaming pain in his bad leg, but something hard bashed him over the head, sending him onto the hard road. He tried to get up and run again, but dizziness overtook him and he fell back onto the ground. A harsh kick to the ribs sent him tumbling over onto his back, where he could see all four of the guards surrounding him. All had anticipatory gleams in their eyes.
Thiel and his runaway mouth had managed to get himself into many situations like this, but he'd always managed to get away before anything too horrific happened. This sure as hell wasn't going to be a time for any firsts.
"You can't even afford to go to any of the whores on Scarlet Street, can you?" Thiel spat. "You've gotta get it from a disease ridden beggar."
For that, he got a swift kick to the jaw that sent his head spinning. He spat a mouthful of blood onto the nearest man's boots.
"No wonder you're homeless," the one from the beginning said. "No one could stand to listen to the shit that comes from your mouth. Hold him down, boys."
Despite Thiel twisting around like a snake and managing a few good eye gouges, the three still managed to subdue him.
"I will bite your dick off!" he snarled, heaving against their hold. The guard paused, then smiled.
"Good point. I'm sure your ass doesn't have teeth, though."
Suddenly, Thiel's face was mashing into the dirty ground, making his kicked jaw scream with pain. He could feel hands at his pants and he fought with even more fury, managing to dislodge one and kick another in the face. The whole time, insults to them and their mothers, sisters and wives poured from his mouth until something slammed into his head, almost sending him into unconsciousness. Against his will, he stopped fighting as he held onto awareness with all his strength. The empty street wavered in front of his eyes and when he blinked, there was suddenly someone standing there.
"I think the lad said no, boys."
The voice was deep, sultry and had a lilt of amusement in it. It hardly sounded like what you expected coming across a beggar about to be raped by the royal guards. The hands stopped grabbing at Thiel's pants.
"I think you'd best keep walking, milord."
The guard's voice sounded distant to Thiel and he could feel himself sliding in and out of consciousness. He must have blacked out for a moment because suddenly, there was no one holding him down.
"Sorry, milord," the leader was muttering, sounding like he had his tail between his legs. He wasn't that cowed, however, as the quick kick to Thiel's side showed. Thiel grunted at the sharp flare of pain from his bad leg and his vision wavered again.
Someone crouched down next to him and Thiel tilted his head, but only managed to get an impression of dark hair and bright eyes.
"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes," the man murmured, sending shivers down Thiel's spine.
Suddenly, it sunk in that the guards had called him 'milord' – he was a noble. He tried to get up, to get away, but his limbs just wouldn't cooperate. He only managed a faint "fuck off" before he sank into darkness.
When Thiel awoke, he was supremely comfortable. He couldn't remember the last time he'd woken in a bed, let alone one of such luxury. He could have buried himself in the soft sheets all day had the throbbing of his sore body not brought him to full consciousness. With a groan, he opened his eyes. Thiel was utterly confused. Last he'd known, he was being beaten on the street and—
And then that noble had saved him.
That truly jolted him awake. He tried to sit up, but his head spun too much.
"I wouldn't try moving too much if I were you."
It was the same voice from last night, cultured and smooth in a way that slid across Thiel's skin. He hated what it did to him yet wanted to hear more of it. That paradox just sent him into an even fouler mood.
He glanced around the room, taking note that it was expensively furnished and light was pouring in through the windows. He had no idea how long he'd been out, but he hoped it was only for the night. He couldn't have been hurt that badly. He finally sighted the man who'd rescued him. As much as Thiel didn't want to be, he was entranced from his first proper glance. He couldn't help it; the man was beautiful. His hair was the colour of night and looked to be as silky soft as the sheets Thiel was lying on. His eyes were as bright as Thiel remembered, a brilliant green colour that pierced him to the core. Everything about the man was sensual, from the casual way he was leaning on one foot to the twist in his full, sultry lips. Thiel couldn't help but react in the way all men do when faced with something they're intensely attracted to.
Thiel grit his teeth and focused on the throbbing coming from his head and leg. Now was not the time to turn into a horny youth. Especially when the man's eyes turned even more amused and knowing.
"What the hell am I doing here?" he snapped.
The man's smirk widened.
"A simple thank you would suffice. I did rescue you, after all."
Thiel couldn't stand that he was so affected by his voice.
"What do you want from me?" He tried again to sit up, but couldn't manage it. Damn those palace guards.
"You can start off with what your name is."
Thiel sneered at him – slick, smooth talking bastard. And a noble, to boot.
Thiel scowled. "Thiel."
The man smiled and even though it didn't reach his eyes, it still made his face that much more beautiful.
"That wasn't so hard, was it, Thiel?"
Thiel hated the way his voice pronounced his name. Slowly, he could feel his head clearing, but he didn't let on that he was feeling better to the man. He glanced down at himself and noticed that thankfully, he was still wearing his torn and dirty clothes.
"Why the fuck am I here?"
The man tsked. "Such pitiful manners. You have a mouth worse than a sailor." He walked forward and leaned against the post at the end of the bed, crossing his arms over his chest. Thiel took note of the way it pulled his dark shirt tight against his arm muscles. When the man didn't continue, Thiel realised he was waiting for him.
He grit his teeth and ground out slowly, "Why am I here. My lord."
The man's eyes were just about brimming with amusement now, grating even further on Thiel's nerves. If only his damn body would obey him.
"I would have thought it quite obvious. You are here to heal and recover your strength. And I am no lord."
Thiel didn't believe him for one second. No one would voluntarily bring a filthy beggar into their home, let alone someone like the man before him. And if he wasn't a lord, Thiel had no idea what he could be. The man held himself with the arrogance of a nobleman and had all the luxuries that came with it, if this room were any indication. Plus, the man must have come from the palace when he'd stumbled upon Thiel.
"Who the hell are you then?"
"You may call me Kael, if you wish." The man, Kael, suddenly leaned forward, peering at Thiel's face in a way that made his insides squirm in discomfort. "You are younger than I first thought. How old are you, boy?"
"I'm twenty-one, much older than a 'boy'," Thiel spat. His delicate features had always allowed him to be mistaken for someone much younger and it grated on Thiel to no end. He couldn't believe that even with his features indistinguishable from dirt and grime, he still looked like a boy. "What's it to you?"
On second thoughts, maybe he should have lied and said he was younger. He was so emaciated that he could maybe even pass himself off as being under the age of consent. Many wouldn't care but at least it was something if this man was planning to sell him to a brothel or something like that. It didn't matter anyway, thanks to his runaway mouth.
Kael didn't answer. He stayed where he was, long form leaning against the bed, staring at Thiel. Such frank perusal from Kael's vivid green eyes made him intensely uncomfortable, but he refused to show it. The man abruptly stood up and turned.
"Get some more sleep," he threw over his shoulder as he left.
Thiel didn't want to go back to sleep. He wanted to get out of here and far, far away from Kael. He tried to get out of the bed again, but his head protested fiercely. He tried to ignore it as he pushed himself up, but the only thing that served to do was send him unconscious again.
When Thiel woke again, it was dark and he was alone. He breathed a sigh of relief and ignored the pang of disappointment. He sat up experimentally and grinned when he saw that he could. His head still ached but it was easy for him to ignore. Thankfully, he was still dressed in his own clothes. He reached up and felt for the pulsing spots on his head and face. From what he could tell, there was a bandage wrapped around his head and his nose was swollen a bit, as well as the side of his jaw. Not bad.
Moving slowly, he manoeuvred himself out of bed and onto his feet. Near silently, he moved about the room. The door was unlocked and the window showed he was on the second floor, facing onto the street. The easiest way would be through the front door, but Thiel didn't want to risk running into any servants or, Ira forbid, Kael himself. He decided to go for the way he used to escape his rooms when he was a child. Using the sumptuous bed sheets, he formed a rope by tying them together. He then tied it securely to one of the bedposts. He gave one last look around the room and spied a silver candelabrum. He snatched it up and shoved it into his pants securely. Selling that would guarantee a few days of food and he was sure Kael would not miss it.
With that done, he tested the rope, then opened the window and began lowering himself down. His arms began to tremble almost immediately but he made it to the end of the blanket rope with a firm grip. He was a bit above the ground, so he let go and dropped down. Despite not being that far, he landed on his bad leg and it gave out, sending him rolling along the ground and hissing in pain. He furtively glanced up at the house, but it remained dark and there was no motion in the windows.
Vindictively, Thiel spat on the ground before hauling himself up and getting as far away from Kael and his expensive house as possible.
Any feedback on this would be much appreciated! This is my first time uploading anything on here, so I hope you enjoy it so far. Not sure about the summary or title just yet, so it could change. Suggestions are welcome! Thanks for reading