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Theo was walked through a series of corridors, each bleaker than the last. There were no windows, no tapestries. Not even any doors. At last they came to a set of stairs that led downwards. The stairs seemed to go on forever before they finally reached a short corridor with doors branching off on either side. The guards led Theo through the last door on the left. The room inside was surprisingly nice. There was a bed, with a canopy no less. A small sitting area with a sofa and chair. A round table. A wardrobe. It was much finer than his room back at the tavern, at any rate.
As Theo was taking in his surroundings, the guards left him and slammed the door behind them. The hair on Theo’s neck rose as the key turned in the lock. It was a gilded cage, but it was a cage nonetheless. Theo stumbled towards the bed, spilling into it as his limbs gave out. He was so, so tired. His entire body ached. He didn’t even bother getting under the covers before falling asleep.
His dreams were muddled things. Not so much scenes, but impressions. Roasting flesh. Fire licking beneath his skin, his bones cracking in the heat. And all-encompassing terror.
Theo gasped awake. Cool sweat gathered in the small of his back and goosebumps peppered his body. He sat up and wiped a hand down his face. It came away wet with tears and sweat.
Theo didn’t know much about mages. No ordinary person did. The thought made a sob bubble into his throat. He wasn’t ordinary anymore. He never would be ordinary again.
He tried to gather himself. Mages were the only ones who could bring magic into the world. They were powerful, and frightening. People whispered that they were unnatural, cursed, an abomination. But at the same time, they were respected. Mages won wars, made kingdoms rise and fall. Few people had ever met them, but when they talked about them it was with a combination of fear and awe. Mages needed vessels, and reapers were necessary to find mages, vessels, and other reapers.
That’s where his knowledge of magic ended. He hadn’t known exactly what mages could do. He didn’t know that mages could only manifest magic in one way. A pyromancer. That’s what the reaper had called him.
Theo looked down at his hands, soft, devoid of calluses, unburned. He hadn’t meant to kill the vessel. His stomach twisted at the memory of the blood against his hand. In all the rumors about magic, it was never said exactly how mages extracted the magic from vessels. In hindsight, the knife made sense.
Theo jumped when the door swung open. A woman walked inside, holding a tray. She set the tray on the table and left without a word. The door locked behind her again. Theo’s stomach twisted and he got to his feet. He was starving. The tray held a bowl of thick stew, a slice of bread with yellow butter, and a glass of water. Theo sank into the chair and grabbed the water, gulping it down. Then he dug into the stew. He hadn’t eaten in days. The stew was rich on his tongue and he nearly cried in relief as the hot food filled his belly. He had gotten to the bottom of the bowl when he noticed a fine crust of white powder stuck to the side. He frowned and dragged a finger across it. It almost looked like fine sugar, the stupid expensive kind that was only used for special occasions. He licked his finger and immediately wrinkled his nose. It was bitter.
Theo stared at the bowl for several long seconds, dread coiling up his spine. They’d drugged him. He didn’t know with what, and he didn’t know when the effects would hit, but that was the only explanation for the powder. He bolted out of his chair. He ran to the door, grabbing the doorknob and trying to turn it. It was locked of course. He cursed and kicked the door. Nothing. He spun around and frantically took in the rest of the room. There weren’t any other exits. He was trapped.
Tears burned at this eyes. He wiped at them angrily with the back of his hand, then swayed on his feet. The room seemed to be spinning. Vertigo hit him and he had to sink to the floor. What was happening to him?
Theo put his head in his hands as queasiness rolled over him.
Then the door opened and Simeon walked in.
“Wh-what did you do to me?” Theo asked. He hated how pathetic his voice came out.
Simeon grinned and crouched down in front of Theo. “How do you feel?”
“Dizzy, queasy,” Theo replied.
“That’s the smoke plum,” Simeon said. “Don’t worry, you’ll feel better soon. I’ll help you into bed.”
Theo didn’t have the strength to argue as Simeon gently pulled him to his feet. Theo’s legs shook and he clung to Simeon as the other man led him to the bed.
“There’s a good boy,” Simeon said as he pulled back the covers and helped Theo to lie down. “You’ll feel better soon.”
Lying down helped with the nausea and dizziness. "Thanks,” Theo said weakly.
“Of course. You’re my mage, after all. I’ll make sure to take good care of you.”
Theo wrinkled his brow. “You will?”
“Yes. Always,” Simeon said, brushing a lock of hair off of Theo’s forehead. He climbed into bed next to Theo, moving Theo so his head rested on Simeon’s shoulder. A faint prickle of unease scraped against Theo’s mind. This was wrong. But Simeon was being so kind.
Theo’s limbs felt heavy. He was getting sleepy, especially with the heat from Simeon’s body next to him and the comforting presence of his hand stroking his hair.
“I like you better like this,” Simeon said, amusement in his voice.
“Like what?” Theo asked.
“High on smoke plum. You feel good, right? Calm and relaxed?”
Theo considered this. He did feel good. Better than he had in days. He couldn’t even remember what the anxiety had felt like. It was a distant memory, like a reflection distorted in a puddle. The vertigo and nasuea had faded now too.
“I’m not scared,” he said. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this comfortable.” And it was true. He had never felt more at peace. He snuggled against Simeon’s shoulder.
“That’s great Theo. I want you to be calm.”
Theo was having trouble keeping his eyes open. Simeon stroked his hair with one hand. The other hand rested on Theo’s upper thigh.
“Can I kiss you, Theo?” Simeon asked. Theo blinked slowly. He looked up at Simeon, who had a grin on his face. Simeon was being so nice to him. A kiss was fine.
“Yes,” Theo said. Then Simeon was pressing his lips against Theo’s, gently, so gently. Theo relaxed and let him explore his mouth with his tongue. He was too tired to kiss Simeon back. Simeon didn’t seem to mind.
Simeon pulled at the hem of Theo’s shirt, exposing his torso. One hand caressed Theo’s side, while the other moved between his legs.
A whisper of fear made it through the haze of the drug. “No,” Theo said, the word slightly slurred.“P-please, no.”
“It’ll feel good,” Simeon said, his voice husky with lust. “Let me take care of you.”
Theo tried to bat Simeon’s hand away, but he could barely move. His limbs felt like they had been loaded down with lead.
Simeon’s hand moved into Theo’s trousers. Theo whimpered at the sensation of the fingers wrapping around his cock. It did feel good. But he didn’t want this. Or at least, he didn’t think he did? He was having trouble thinking.
“S-stop,” Theo gasped out as Simeon started stroking. Simeon paused. Despite himself, Theo whimpered at the loss of sensation.
“You’re hard,” Simeon whispered in his ear. “You want this.”
“No–”
“You can’t tell me no. That’s not polite.” Theo wrinkled his brow. He didn’t want to be rude. “Just relax,” Simeon said, resuming his stroking. “Stop fighting the smoke plum. You want this, deep down. so let me do this for you.”
Theo didn’t have the energy to argue anymore. His eyes were drooping and he couldn’t grasp hold of any of his thoughts. Another wave of calm rolled over him, more powerful than the first.
“There you go,” Simeon said. “That’s a good boy.”
The praise was distant in Theo’s ears. Thought had left him entirely. All he felt was the calm, and the pleasure. He laid there and didn’t argue again as Simeon took what he wanted.
The next few hours passed in a blur. Through the haze of the drug, Theo was only aware of bits and pieces of it. Simeon undressing him. Oil. Hot sweaty skin, cries of pleasure.
He fell asleep in Simeon’s arms. When he awoke, a headache pounded behind his eyes and he felt like he was going to puke. He barely had time to roll over before vomiting all over the bed.
Simeon stirred behind him. “Oh dear, you’ve made a mess.”
“I feel awful,” Theo said with a whimper. Simeon stroked a hand across Theo’s back. Theo tensed and pulled away from him. The memories of last night were blurry, but there was no denying the aches and bruises and crustiness covering his skin. “You-you raped me,” he said, his limbs trembling.
Simeon snorted. “I only gave you what you wanted.” He climbed out of bed and threw on a robe before walking to the door. “I’ll be back shortly.”