Command and Vanquish Ch. 04

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Mia sat alone in her room, pushing her breakfast around her plate. Her poor heart felt torn: Navin had treated her so kindly, warmly, and respectably; why did she have to be joined to a man who didn't really want her?

When the Queen first chose the placid angel to soothe her troubled heir, Mia had been excited, knowing Jem wouldn't love her, but she would be treated well, with every luxury a girl could desire. She didn't know how hard this would be. Jem was like a blade: kept at a distance he was a cruel threat of pain, but the closer she got to him, the harsher the pain pierced her heart. From the first day his contemptuous glare crossed the room and settled on her, her stomach churned with the realization of her mistake. Jem had moments where he hid his regretful attachment to her, but the brittle façade could too easily be shattered.

Her eyes filled with tears at the memory of each heavy sigh he heaved, each time his jaw locked in anger, each time he rigidly escorted her into a room. Could she ever make him love her? Tears fell on the floor as she contemplated the futility of making herself more acceptable.

Unexpectedly Jem and Navin strode into the room, and both stopped dead, moved by the sight of the surprised/embarrassed beauty swatting away the evidence of her sadness. Jem turned his head to Navin but looked at the floor. "Can you excuse us for a moment, Nav?" he said quietly.

"Of course, Sir, I'll wait in the hall."

As Navin left, Jem set his warm brown eyes filled with concern on his fiancé. Panic welled in her as she realized he was about to ask for an explanation.

Carefully, apprehensively, he walked towards her, his concerned eyes never unlocking themselves from her tear-filled ones. He knew he didn't really want to hear the answer, but as he stood in front of her, his face close to hers, his truly sympathetic, deep voice murmured, "What's wrong, Mia?"

Somehow the question opened the floodgates and she began to sob. Unable to resist, he laced his hands through her hair and guided her head to his hard shoulder, offering her comfort while she let it out. He murmured soft reassurances to her, trying to soothe her; this only made her clutch him harder, wanting him to hold her, wanting to feel the care and love he was finally showing her. After he let her cry for a good while, he asked again, "Tell me, Mia, what's bothering you?"

"Your majesty..." she began, her voice cracking, but that's all the further she got before he crushed his mouth over hers, and she felt his smile.

"Jem," he softly said, finally breaking away, "everyone close to me calls me 'Jem,' and my fiancé needn't be formal with me." He looked down at her, and brushed stray tears from her cheeks with his thumb.

"Jem," she said, only able to half smile, "I apologize for that display, I shouldn't..."

He cut her off again: "Never apologize for anything you do. Royalty doesn't apologize and my fiancé won't..."

"You're not making this very easy," she countered.

His eyes danced with playful irony as his lips twisted into a smile: "My apologies."

This made her bite her lower lip to stifle a laugh, both glad that some of the tension had melted. He began for her, eyebrow raised, "May I attempt to make this easier, then, but taking a stab at what would make a beautiful girl cry?"

She nodded shyly.

His eyes locked on hers, and she almost gasped at how intimidating even his intimate moments of concern could be. "My sisters cry when I'm being a callous asshole to them," he began. "It's frustrating for sweet, wonderful girls to be denied love despite their best efforts. Am I close?"

She nodded weakly again, not able to look at him. "Wow," he said, half smiling, "I can't believe you just called me an asshole."

Her eyes shot up, but then she realized he was playing, and he laughed as she smiled. "Tell me," he continued, "how you feel about what's happening between us?"

"We don't love each other, Jem, and I'm not sure we ever really will."

The painful truthfulness of her all too frank statement made him sigh as he looked at the ceiling. "No, we don't love each other," he began, but then looked back down at her, "but we can try for one another. I think it would be fair to admit you've been trying harder than I have." He took both of her hands and brought them to his lips, pressing a kiss on the back of each hand. "You are mine now, and you deserve better." He looked back into her eyes, "I promise you, you will receive more from me from now on. A lovely girl like you shouldn't live your life in sadness."

"Neither should you, your maj...Jem. I'm sorry, I know you deeply loved..."

He turned his head away, eyes hard, jaw locked, and snapped a hand up sharply. "No. Don't say it."

"I...I'm sorry..." she stammered, "I...I just wish...I could have been more like her."

His eyes, suddenly cruel again, stared at her with the silent thought, "No one can be like her." But looking once again at her face, and the sadness in it, his heart melted, and the emotional reality of the moment returned. "I promise...you will receive more from me. I will make this..."

A knock came on the door before Navin stuck his head in. "Forgive me, Sir, but a message of the highest urgency just came in from Lord Rayth."

Jem spun his head around, curious, "Rayth? His still at his new property, right? Is he having problems with the locals?"

Navin searched the message over, "It doesn't say, Jem, but he's coming back tomorrow morning and insists you clear your entire day."

"I love it when he commands me to do stuff. Does it say there's a problem? Is something wrong?"

"No...no he doesn't say anything. It' pretty cryptic, but if I know Rayth I'd say he's really happy about something, and excited to share it with you."

"Well...now that's curious. Oh, hell, what if he got Alenya pregnant already?"

Navin laughed, "Don't jump to conclusions, let's just wait to see what it is."

"But highest urgency? That message had to have been traveling fast to get all the way here this morning. Curious...very curious." Jem turned back to Lady Mia. "I trust Rayth immensely, and if he says to clear my day, my day for tomorrow is clear. Will you join me to hear what he has to say?"

She smiled sweetly, "That would be lovely."

"Very well. Enjoy the rest of your day. I'm going to make arrangements to have my schedule cleared," he said, turning to leave.

Navin let Jem out, then stood in the doorway, looking at Mia. In a way, he was jealous that Jem got to comfort her, and she looked happier now. "Are you alright, my Lady?"

She smiled at him, but different then when she looked at Jem. She felt strange; with Jem, they were forcing amiability out of responsibility to each other. Navin didn't really have to care about her, but there he was once again, genuinely concerned for her. She couldn't help but respect him; he was a good man.

"Thank you, captain, I'm fine."

Navin nodded, uncharacteristically uneasy. The solid, stoic soldier was never moved by anyone. Until her. "Good day, then, Madam."

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The courtyard to the palace buzzed with activity and excitement. All the kingdom's nobility gathered to gossip in their finest clothes while the slaves kept their plates and glasses filled. Everyone was speculating what exciting news Lord Rayth was bringing with him; whatever it was, Prince Jaimeth was determined to give him a grand reception. A perfect day for it as well; spring in full bloom saw a colorful display of flowers opening to welcome the guests, perfectly lit by the mild morning sun. Everyone parted to either side of the courtyard as the main doors opened and Prince Jaimeth and Lady Mia were announced.

Mia bit her bottom lip and tightened her grip on Jem's escorting arm; every eye was on them, judging them, wondering how he treated her, wondering if she was good enough for him. The added tension on his arm alerted Jem to her apprehension, and he tenderly placed his other hand on top of hers, one as a reassurance to her, two as a public message that she was indeed dear to him.

Taking their seats on the slightly raised dais, the chattering and activity resumed. Jem accepted the wine glass offered to him and swilled. "Come on, Rayth," he thought. "What have you got?" Since receiving Rayth's message, he couldn't explain why the knots in his stomach refused to untangle.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Lord Rayth and Lady Alenya were announced. As the doors were pulled open, Jem was grinning ear to ear upon seeing his friend proudly guide his lady into the room, both finely approaching.

In a move that made Jem laugh out loud (he never demanded formal respects from Rayth), Rayth took Jem's hand and kissed his ring. Close enough that only those on the dais could hear, Jem asked, "Rayth, what are you doing?"

Without answering, he quietly replied, "Hell of a gathering you have. I was going to tell you a bit more privately..." Rayth looked slightly somber towards Mia before continuing, "Lady Mia might wish to exit. It might not be entirely comfortable."

Mia's eyes lowered, feeling once again excluded, but Jem took her hand, placed it on his arm, then placed his hand over top of hers. "Anything you have to say to me can be said in front of my fiancé. What is it, my friend?"

Rayth raised his eyebrows once and cleared his throat. "Actually, I've come to ask you for something."

"Anything. Name it."

Rayth lowered his eyes as a sly smile stretched his lips. He backed away from the dais, and once on the floor, knelt prostrate in front of Jem. Jem's jaw dropped, the room gasped, and Rayth announced in a bold voice, "Prince Jaimeth of Pangain, I've come to beg your mercy."

Jem had half the urge to laugh, but something indicated Rayth wanted to maintain a public display of formality. "Alright, Rayth...mercy for what?"

"For possessing something very precious to you. You would have been very angry, your majesty, to have known I had it. Likely, you would have killed me had any harm come to it under my possession. For that reason, I beg your mercy." Rayth stayed on his knees, but looked into Jem's eyes; the two men held a steady gaze as Rayth continued, "In my defense, your majesty, I didn't know I had it, and the moment I knew, I sent a message stating it's immediate return to you."

"What on earth is it?"

"A slave."

Jem's eyes narrowed in confusion. "What slave would I have cared about enough that a Pangain Lord, my best friend, would be begging on his knees in front of me to return?"

"May I, Sir?"

"By all means."

Rayth stood and signaled the door which was pulled open. Slowly, a fragile looking girl with styled cropped hair stepped through, face freshly made up, dressed finely for a rich, regal appearance. The girl fought to maintain her innate royal dignity and composure as she looked across the room and locked eyes with her love. As if in a trance, she slowly, step by step, made her way to stand beautifully in front of him.

Jem couldn't breathe. His face lost all color as his body instantly burned all over. He was paralyzed, couldn't move or think. This world spun, and he fought with himself to determine if this was a dream. On the edge of panic, he feebly uttered a one word question: "...Iz?"

A single tear trailed down her face, hoarsely whispering, "Yes, your majesty."

With no other thought, the rest of the room disappeared to him, abandoning all sense of upbringing, royal self-control, or masculine reserve, and he flew from the dais! In less than two seconds, he crashed into Isabella's arms, clinging, crying, kissing every part of her as hard and fast as he could. It didn't matter to either of them how many people surrounded them; no one existed but the other lover, nothing mattered but to have the other back. Their arms were unable to pull them close enough, lips unable to kiss hard enough. It wasn't long before their knees gave out, and right there in the middle of the court, the two desperately embraced one another on the floor, tasting kisses that they never dreamed could be so wonderful.

"Iz, my love!" he kept sobbing. "My beautiful Isabella, where have you been? I've been so scared...so alone..."

"Jem, I've missed you so much, you have no idea..."

"I thought you were..."

"I thought you wanted me de..."

Neither could finish a thought before a kiss collapsed over their statements. She let him take her in his arms. She all too much enjoyed absorbing his strength and warmth, finally feeling the protection and love she'd been craving, and suffering too long without. The rich, familiar scent of him overwhelmed her, and brought fresh tears to her eyes as she clung to him, never wanting the flood of sensations to subside. The day before, she was merely a field slave. Now, the most powerful man in the world, her best friend, her lover, had his arms locked around her, and the familiar flood of intimacy concurrently excited and relaxed her.

Jem held her tight to him, squeezing her light frame until even he feared it would break. Tears wouldn't stop pouring out of his typically callous face as he whispered incoherent reassurances into her hair: "My love, I'm never going to let you go, you're mine forever, I can't be apart from you, whatever you want, whatever you need, my love, my only love, it's yours, I'll give you everything..."

He didn't care about the "how's" and "why's"; he'd get those later. All he cared about was the woman he held in his arms, who kept whispering back: "Hold me, Jem, I need you..."

From the dais, Mia grew nauseous as she watched. She saw the man who only a day ago promised to love her abandon her in an instant for another woman. She knew her time as the future queen was all but over, but she was unsure of how to handle this very public pronouncement with any semblance of dignity.

Tactfully Navin appeared behind her and placed his hand on the small of her back. The girl, near fainting, pressed into his comforting support. "Madam," he whispered discreetly into her ear, "perhaps I might escort you to your room to rest?"

Mia was borderline frantic as she tried to search Jem for what she should do. He was too occupied to care about her in the least, so when she scanned the rest of the room for guidance, she found Rayth's eyes. The ice blue color that seemed to melt Alenya and Isabella only seemed bitterly cold to Mia. He nodded once at her, providing a silent instruction to leave with Navin. The lump in her throat grew.

"Yes, thank you Captain," she raspily managed, "I would like that. I fear, however, that my legs aren't feeling up to sorts. May I have your arm in assistance?"

Navin felt too sorry for her to even feel good about helping her. Silently, he offered her one of his arms to take a hold of, and wrapped his other arm around her frame to half escort, half carry her away.

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Jem pressed his body against Isabella's between his sheets. His poor beauty, the things she must have suffered, because she couldn't tolerate her body being exposed. When he had begun to undress her, her eyes couldn't look at his, and her arms stiffened in a panicked defense, ready to stop him from humiliating her the way countless guards had. His warm brown eyes, usually so hard, softened in melancholy understanding about what she was doing. He had hurt so many slaves himself; he couldn't imagine anyone doing the things he'd done to other girls to his precious Isabella. He needed to make her feel safe, regain her trust, and show her that loving could...and SHOULD...feel very good.

He held kept pulling the sheets up and around them if ever they were to fall, keeping her skin covered to the rest of the world besides him, always putting her needs first, carefully monitoring her every reaction. He placed soft tender kisses to the side of her neck, her chest. He tried to take one of her nipples in her mouth, but her throat caught, he felt her tense and she began to cry.

He looked with very deep concern into her tear-filled eyes. "My love, let it out, it's okay, please, you're safe with me, no one will hurt my beautiful girl..." he kept whispering reassurances to her.

"Jem, I'm so sorry," she quietly sobbed, "I love you, I do, this is just hard...I still can't believe it, that I'm here with you, that things are okay...it's so much..."

"I know, love, I know...ssshhh...it's okay, let me hold you...I can't feel enough of you... I want to feel it just so I know it's real..."

"They hurt me, Jem..."

His face went stone, "Tell me who hurt you, and they'll be dead by tomorrow."

She somewhat smiled, "you can't kill all those people, you'll have no army left."

He pressed a kiss into her neck, "I don't need an army, I have you."

She ran her hands through his hair, gripping his head lightly, feeling the soft familiar sensations of their more intimate moments. He belonged to her. "Hold me, Jem."

"I don't plan on ever letting go." He again began kissing his way down her body, and again she tensed, afraid. "It's okay, Iz, don't worry. Here, beautiful, give me your hands." He backed away from her slightly, and placed her hands on his rock-hard chest. He whispered, "You control it. Touch me, feel me, feel what's there for you. I love you...I'm yours, do with me whatever you want to. You control how things go and what you want done."

Through tears of happiness and apprehension, she smiled and bit her bottom lip. "Ssshh...don't let the slaves hear you say that, it'll ruin your reputation. Prince Jaimeth of Pangain doesn't let anyone control anything about him."

"Let everyone hear it, the slaves be damned. Let them hear who I love and what I'd give you. I wouldn't give myself over to anyone but you. Feel me, Iz...I'm all yours. Anything you want, I'll give you. Every inch of my being lives to make you happy, give you what you want." He guided her hands to slide over his arms, "Theses arms will swing a blade into anyone who tries to hurt you again," over his lips, "I'll command from anyone anything you wish," over his heart, "This heart loves only you," down his stomach, down to his legs and his...he smiled, "And this will bring you pleasure, not pain, if you'll let me remind you of how good it can feel."

She smiled and drew close to him. "Why have you always been so good to me?"

"Because you've always deserved it."

She pressed an open kiss onto his mouth, melting into him. They clutched at one another, until she finally broke away to raspily confess, "I can't imagine feeling more loved, more secure, more perfect with anyone else. I love you, Jem, for everything that you are..."

He rolled onto his back and slid her on top of him. Her hair covered his face as she pressed kisses down onto his soft, full lips, and let the naked globes of her ass slide against his stomach. He reached up and grabbed her breasts, pulling each in turn into his mouth, sucking each nipple, softly caressing them with his tongue.

"Jem...you feel so good..."

"So do you, Iz..."

Her hands roughly raked the muscle-ribbed sides of his body down to his legs, tensely grasping at him. "I want you, Jem...I want to feel you..."

"You control it, my love, take me at your pleasure..."

Her legs had already rocked her back against his hot searing cock, and her moistened opening craved fulfillment from him. She closed her eyes tight, trying to shut out past horrors of rapes, trying to relive the sensual times she and shared in the past. Her love for him overtook her, and she impaled herself onto his cock.

He threw his head back in a muffled groan; sex had always been plentiful for him, but there was something different about making love to Isabella. She wasn't just another warm opening. She was the love of his life, and making love to her was the sweetest thing he knew. He thrust up into her, matching her downward strokes on top of him. He looked up, ecstatic to see her lovely body enjoying itself, bouncing up and down on him, her hair gracefully swaying behind her. It took every muscle he had to keep from cumming, telling himself to stay hard and vigilant for her pleasure.