R1-Nicole-p4

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Alex sat alone under the shade of an ancient oak. Alone was something he didn't mind at all. He could lay back on the soft, fragrant earth and simply watch the clouds float by. He wasn't required to make conversation, or to entertain in any way. He could simply rest. Skinner had ridden off on his black horse Goliath an hour ago, bade him to stay put, telling him he would return presently with supplies. Alex didn't care. As long as he could travel with the two far enough away from the Bishop, he would rest under any oak tree the gruff captain bade him to. He intended to sneak away from them as soon as he felt he was safe from the Bishop's reach. He would serve them both until then, but not one day further. The prince was beautiful enough to want to stay with forever, but Alex was a realist. Princes might step down to consort with a Captain of the Guards, if of course he was like Skinner, the son of an old, titled family. But he would not consort with a foreign slave.

Still, it was a totally new feeling to be with others who were not simply human. Of course the two, the captain and the prince, were not in control of their change, nor did they want it, but they were like him more than most. He closed his eyes as a cool breeze softened the unusual warmth of the day, and sighed. The falcon had circled above them all morning as they had traveled away from Aquila, alighting upon the leather gloves of the captain frequently. And when the captain had ridden off leaving him alone, the falcon had followed the big man with a piercing cry. Fox as a bird was beautiful, there was no doubt, but in human from he was devastating. No wonder the bishop had been driven to the deeds he had. Alone at night with the captured prince, even as his other self, he would appreciate the gentle strength of the prince. A beauty of face that spoke of softness and yielding, and pleasure, but which hid a strength of will as great as that of the fearless Captain of the Guards himself.

How many times had he scrambled onto the bed on which the prince reclined, and nestled close just to feel his heat, and smell his scent? A scent that was not musky, and not sweet, yet something deliciously in between. And the Captain. That one was brute strength controlled by an enviable intellect. Though Alex didn't generally bother himself with the welfare of others, surviving day by day by will and cunning, did not allow such generosity of spirit, he did acknowledge that the people of Aquila would not be so well served by a captain that the Bishop would anoint to replace Skinner.

The Bishop was not only cruel, he was, Alex knew, a brilliant politician. How else could he have retained his position when even the Church had turned its back on him? And cruel beyond measure. Alex knew that only too well. This curse was merely the latest example. Surely the most imaginative perversity, but by no means isolated.

He was saved from considering further the Bishop when the piercing cry of a large bird of prey startled him from his half-dozing musings. The sound was sharp, and would fill small animals with fear, but to the human ear it sounded beautiful. Out of reach, and yet lonely. He searched the sky and saw it high above, gliding in the air effortlessly. He smiled to see the falcon. The prince was indeed royalty, by day and by night. If he had indeed retained vestiges of his personality in the animal he had become, it had been in his regal bearing. The white falcon circled high and then back, pacing the animal that it was surely following. Alex heard the clap of Goliath's massive hooves only moments later, and managed to sit up before the Captain galloped into the small clearing and ended his rest.

Skinner leaned forward casually as Goliath came to a halt, stomping its hooves, impatient for another run. He rested his left elbow on the leather horn of Goliath's black saddle and smiled at Alex. "I see you have been quite productive while I was gone," he said softly.

The deep voice, Alex had come to realize, was very rarely raised. There was strength enough when he spoke softly. The deepness, the innate authority in that voice made Alex shiver. He had been too long a slave for men not to respond to that voice. He felt as if the big captain had stoked his leather-clad hand along the back of his neck, or slid his fingers through Alex's hair. "I...didn't know if you wanted to remain here or to move on. Or I would have gathered wood for a fire," he said briskly, rising to his feet and dusting the grass off his pants.

"I don't mind that you rested, little rat. I think you have worked enough for others all your life."

Alex was startled by those words. "But I thought...that is, I assumed that if I were to be allowed to travel with you that I would have to..."

"Carry your own weight and no more," Skinner finished for him. "Where we go from here, far away from that God forsaken Bishop, we go together, or not as we please." Skinner sat up straight and raised his hand to the falcon, waiting for a moment as the falcon gracefully came to perch heavily on his strong forearm. "My prince and I can make do," he smiled at the bird. It called out again, its wings folding neatly into its sides.

"But I wanted to travel with..."

"And so you shall," Skinner replied, turning his gaze away from the falcon. "There are things that I will do better than you, and enough burdens to share. Should I think you slow my prince and I, then I will leave you. But you have gained Fox's trust, and thus, until you show yourself unworthy of it, you have mine as well."

Alex didn't know what to say. The Captain was talking to him as if they were equals! "I won't slack or disappoint you, sir," Alex said eagerly. He was happy when Skinner did not tell him to call him by name. There were certain boundaries that his life had taught him too well not to cross.

"Fine then, come on up behind me. We shall ride until dusk," Skinner nodded and lifted his hand to make the falcon take to the wing, but the falcon stayed stubbornly. "Are you tired, my love," Skinner teased softly. He lowered his lips to the flacon's beak and Alex couldn't keep from cringing. The bird's beak was powerful and dangerous. A man, even one who had trained such a bird to eat from his hand would be a fool to trust his lips to it. But the falcon just ruffled its feathers and cocked its head toward Alex.

"I think it prefers that I not ride with you," Alex murmured nervously.

The bird made a small sound of agreement and shook its body.

"It," Skinner sighed. "I wonder how much you understand, my sweet Fox. For I have no idea how much I remember when I am...not myself. Do you remember that you are so much more than a mere *it*," he finished. "But we can remember for you." He turned to Alex, began to say something and then shook his head. "Come up behind me, Fox won't harm you." He held out a large hand, the black oiled leather blending into the leather of his breeches and the full cloak that draped over Goliath's flanks.

Alex shook his head as the flacon still eyed him. "No, no I prefer to walk for now," he said lightly.

Skinner chuckled and withdrew his proffered hand. "As you wish," he replied and gave Goliath a light tap of his heels. Heels, Alex noticed, that were not spurred.

Alex jogged after the Captain, his feet sliding around in the too large shoes he had liberated from Skinner's things at the Castle. He wondered why Skinner had made no mention of the garments he must surely know were his, nor had he asked any questions as to how Alex had obtained him. Skinner was a hard man to understand. Noble, but not impressed by it. Strong and fearless, but not inclined to use those qualities for personal gain. He had the admiration and respect of the Bishop's guard, and yet had never, at least to Alex's knowledge, abused his position in any way. He was a man of honor. Noble by birth and deed. Alex didn't want to admire the man. Didn't want any complications in his life, beyond that of finally being rid of his life in Aquila. But as the falcon took flight once more, Alex had to admit that he could well understand why the Prince had fallen so desperately in love with the Captain of the Guards. If Alex were an honest man, which he was certainly not, he would have to admit to being half in love with the Captain himself.

Two hours after they had left the oak behind the Captain stopped and handed Alex a piece of bread and some cheese. The later was handed over with a small grin, but Alex refused to comment on the look. He simply took the food, and began to eat. The falcon flew to Skinner immediately upon Goliath stopping, looking at Alex with its predatory eyes. There was blood on its beak and talons. It had fed well on some plump rabbit, or some other bird. Gyrfalcon could take down even other birds of prey. The blood on its sharp beak crystallized how much the Bishop's curse had transformed the Prince. Beyond the obvious physical change, the savageness, the pure animalness of the Prince in this half of his life was a far cry from the cultured, gentle man he really was. The part of him that was a small animal instinctively quailed from the bird.

"Did you feed well, my lord," Skinner crooned, rubbing the blood gently from the dark beak. "Perhaps you could share next time."

The bird cocked its head and blinked.

"Do you think it understands?" Alex asked, chewing on the ripened cheese hungrily.

"He understands," Skinner answered softly, emphasizing the pronoun. "He...not it."

"Sorry," Alex muttered.

"Do you?"

"Do I what," Alex replied warily.

"Do you really understand what you hear while you are a rat? I mean, all of what you hear?"

"Yes, all of it. But then I can remember everything as well."

Skinner said nothing in reply just tapped Goliath's sides, and trotted on. It was nearing twilight when the Captain stopped to rest. There were a few small, wooden structures and several cooking fires in a small clearing. Dirty peasants, who had fled at the approach of the war-horse and its armed rider, skulked in the doorways of the huts as Goliath pranced passed. Skinner did not acknowledge them, perhaps knowing they would not be open to strangers, particularly heavily armed ones. But Alex, feeling more important and powerful than he had ever before felt, simply by being in the presence of one such as the Captain, smirked at the peasants.

"We won't harm you," he called out. "And we can pay for any food that we require." He shook the small leather pouch tied to the belt around his waist. The heavy clink of coins sounded loud in the quiet clearing. Skinner looked at him with a raised brow, but said nothing. His disapproval was obvious however, and Alex sighed.

A large man with scars on his face stood to the side of Goliath, near a large fire to the edge of the clearing. Skinner pulled back on the reins, and looked at the man. "My companion and I seek shelter for the night."

The large man merely pointed to a derelict building that may have once been a sound stable. "There," he finally mumbled. His voice was slurred due the massive scaring of his face and mouth. Burn scars, Alex knew.

Skinner nodded his acknowledgment and rode on toward the building. Alex followed behind, watching the scarred man as he did. The man's yes were trained on Goliath, gleaming with greed. Whether it was greed for the worth of such and animal in coins or in the amount of meals the big horse would provide, Alex couldn't say, but the look made him uncomfortable all the same. The captain would not be...himself...during the night, and it would fall to Alex to defend the animal. To say nothing of the prince. And Alex was not accustomed to defending anything save his own skin. Still, he surprised himself by beginning to plan a course of action to do just that.

Skinner slid off the black horse as soon as they entered the building, if one could still call it that. There were high rafters filled with cobwebs and dust. Large holes in the roof let in stray shafts of dying sunlight, and something flapped its wings high up in the darkened rafters. Molded hay, which looked years out of the fields, lay strewn about the dirt floor, too old to smell anymore. "This isn't exactly what the Prince is used to," Skinner said quietly. There was a wealth of emotion in his words. The conflict within him was apparent on his strong face. He had taken Fox from luxury and firmly placed him in a hovel. The falcon was craning its neck, turning its head sideways to peer up in the rafters. It ruffled its feathers imperiously, as if commenting on the state of the building.

"I'm sorry, my love. I should have brought you to a fine inn. But who knows what the Bishop will do once he realizes that he could have easily separated us after all."

Alex lowered his eyes at Skinner's words. There was nothing he could say to add any cheer to the somber captain. And why would the captain even care what he thought? Though he had behaved quite unusually for a nobleman, Alex was still a servant.

"I'm leaving you to care for Goliath," Skinner said to Alex. "I think I will be back, but I can't be sure about anything." The captain paused and Alex knew he was trying to discard his air of fatality. He removed his heavy cloak and rested it beside the bird, obviously leaving it to warm the prince when he had once again resumed human from. He took his saddlebag of Goliath and laid out clothes and some of the food he had tucked into bags tied to Goliath's saddle. The little gesture made Alex long for someone to have as much, perhaps even a fraction of the concern that the Captain had for the Prince. "Fox can take care of himself, but you would do well to make sure that he does. In this charge, you would do well to heed me."

Alex looked up to meet the burning brown eyes of the captain. There was more warning there than he was comfortable with, and still the man spoke softly. As if he were instructing Alex to have a wonderful rest. "I will take great care."

"No turning into a rodent and scampering at the first time of trouble," the captain emphasized.

Alex bristled. "I will take care," he repeated, through gritted teeth.

It seemed to assure the captain, and he lifted his arm to the broken door of a stall. The falcon jumped from his arm to the wood and stared wonderingly at the big man. "Until morning than, my Prince," he sighed. He turned one last time to Alex, nodded and then strode out into the fading day.

Alex watched him go, wondering as he did, how he could walk so unafraid into the world. The assuredness, the deliberate length of each stride commanded attention and screamed authority. What kind of man would I have been, had things been different, Alex wondered. He couldn't resist staring at the powerful body, the lithe waist hidden no longer by the billowing cloak, was in stark relief to his broad shoulders and thick, powerful thighs. Alex felt a slow burn begin inside. What would it be like to lay beneath a man like that? To feel the strength concentrated on him. In him. He shook off the sudden desire and turned to the task of settling Goliath into one of the stronger stalls.

He was so engrossed in his work, talking to himself, and to a God he surprisingly still believed in, that he jumped in shock when a voice spoke close behind him.

"So you are still traveling with us, little rat."

He turned to see the Prince, clothed in the garments Skinner had left for him. He had not donned the cloak and his slim, muscled from only looked more beautiful than it had in the fine garments he had always worn previously. The rough cloth of the breeches he wore and the white shirt parted slightly beneath the single tie at his neck. He looked glorious in the reflected light of the candles Alex had lit and carefully stowed away from any flammable area. Like the dethroned prince he was. Hazel eyes, wide with intelligence and curiosity, full lips made for only the purpose of pleasure, softly parted. Thick chestnut hair that looked all the better for its uncombed state. He looked edible and Alex quickly turned away, finishing up with Goliath. "Yes, your Highness," he replied. Not even certain how was able to speak at all in the face of such beauty. It didn't matter how many times he saw Fox, he was always stunned by his looks.

"Is he taking us to his family lands?" the prince inquired casually, stepping closer to watch the little rat. He was practically ignoring him, his exotic green eyes turned away. There was a gracefulness about the servant that was absolutely absent in every servant the prince had ever known. A careless gracefulness that was innate. He moved surely around the large horse and it nickered softly, turning its glossy head back often to watch him work. Fox smiled. Goliath was notorious for his temper, letting no one but the captain near him. It was interesting that this little rat so effortlessly had won the proud horse's trust.

"I have no idea. I didn't feel it was my place to ask," Alex answered quietly.

His tone indicated that he didn't care to talk to Fox, and while that shouldn't have bothered Fox in the least, it did. All his life he had been attended to and fawned over. No matter that it had irritated him to no ends, he *wanted* this man to at least acknowledge him. "Perhaps you can ask him tomorrow," Fox said imperiously. He was rewarded by his tone with a quick look from those incredible eyes. Eyes that were framed by the blackest, thickest lashes he had ever seen.

"Yes, you highness," Alex replied.

Fox sighed. A servant Alex might be, but his attitude was anything but servile. "See that you do," he said haughtily. Not knowing why he was acting the way he was. He had never before been impressed by his position. Why should he want this man to be impressed?

"I will," Alex said, looking quickly away, lest the full, tempting lips of the prince cause him to forget himself and kiss them. A small voice inside him told him that there would never be a risk that the Captain would know. Who would tell him of the liberties he took? Certainly not the prince himself. He turned to look fully at the prince who looked disgruntled. By his lack of knowledge no doubt and imagined, for the millionth time, what those lips would taste like, open beneath his own. He might have given in to his desire, a desire that he had no reason not to give in to. There were no guards here to beat him, and the prince would not be harmed. Just one small kiss. He might have save for the sound he heard coming from the front of the derelict stable. The prince had not heard it, was in fact still staring at him curiously. But Alex had heard it. A stealthy sound. Coming closer from the cover of shadows.

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Eli_Ann is next!