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dont-touch-my-soup · 1 year ago

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CW: captivity, drugging, non-consensual hair touching

Kell was waiting for the right moment to slip through the door. His heart was hammering in his chest as his gaze swapped between the door and Oryn. The door and Oryn. The door and Oryn.

He was still talking to his guests, his laugh resonating all the way over to Kell. The sound was enough to make his stomach churn. It wasn’t the only laugh in the room full of people. They were laughing and talking and drinking and it all blurred together to a cacophony that hurt in his ears.

It was a miracle no one had spotted Kell yet. His gaze flipped to the door again. He just wanted to leave the party and get some rest. He’d get in trouble for sure, but it would be worth it. Probably. Definitely. Maybe. He was still debating when a hand fell on his shoulder, and he spun around.

The man in front of him was well-dressed and Kell could feel the aura of power surrounding him.

“Are you alright?” the Varsennan asked, his forehead wrinkled in concern but there was a glimmer in his eyes. A glimmer Kell didn’t like.

Kell nodded. He didn’t even try to talk. His face was burning, and his heart was beating violently against his chest.

“You don’t look alright,” the Varsennan said. He placed his hand against Kell’s back and pushed him forward. “Come sit with us. Get some rest.”

Kell’s legs were stiff and numb as he stumbled forward. He could barely see anything as he was led to a group of armchairs. Another person was sitting in one of the chairs and Kell’s skin tingled as they slowly uncrossed their legs. It felt like walking into a spider’s web.

If he’d just been a little braver. If he’d just acted a little quicker. If he’d just slipped through the door ...

He was pressed into the cushions and his chest tightened as a hand got hold of his chin and tilted his head up.

He took a shuddering breath and suppressed the urge to break free of his grip. He knew he had no choice.

“Don’t look so frightened,” the Varsennan said in a soothing voice. “I know most of the guests here love to torment you, but you have nothing to fear as long as you are with us.”

Kell desperately wanted to believe him, but the Varsennan’s hand was still laying possessively on his chin.

“Your hair is so beautiful,” the Varsennan said, catching a strand of his hair between his fingers and following it to the tips. He softly tugged at it before letting go.

“It almost looks blue against the light,” he said in fascination. “How fitting.”

It was suffocating that he knew who he was.

“I don’t think he likes you touching him, Gren,” the other Varsennan noted, his voice so unexpected it almost made Kell flinch. “He’s trembling.”

Of course, he knew. They all knew who he was. Or who he was supposed to be.

He wanted to tell him that the blue hue wasn't natural. He wanted to tell him to take his hands off. He wanted to scream but all he could do was hold still, stay silent.

He knew that voice. Slowly he turned his head to look at one of the Varsennan who’d refused to help Jack and him. He didn’t even bat an eye on him and Kell wondered if he hadn’t recognised him or if he just didn’t care.

“Poor boy,” Gren said sympathetically, his fingers kept combing through his hair, his nails scratching over his scalp. Kell wanted to tell him to let him go, wanted to shove his hands away, but every time that want got too strong, he thought about Oryn on the other side of the room.

And it was just a hand in his hair. It could be so much worse.

It wasn’t so bad.

It could be worse.

Kell’s head ached. Unshed tears burned in his eyes. His tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth.

Something cold pressed against his skin as someone pushed a glass into his hand. Kell wasn’t sure if it was Gren or Not-Gren. “Drink this.”

The glass trembled in his hand. The purple liquid slowly moved inside. Kell hesitated. He shouldn’t drink this. He lifted his eyes and met the Varsennan’s - Gren’s. Maybe he could tell them no. Maybe they wouldn’t tell Oryn. Maybe …

“Do you need some help?” Gren asked softly but again there was a sharp edge in his voice warning Kell not to make him ask again.

His grip around Kell’s wrist was gentle but firm, as he lifted the glass to Kell’s lips.

Kell closed his eyes, as the glass met his lips, but the tears still managed to find a way through.

He took a gulp. The liquid was too sweet on his tongue and too sharp, burning as it slid down his throat warming him from the inside.

“Good boy,” a voice too close to him purred.

Kell’s head dipped lower. His chest burned with shame and sorrow at these words. He wasn’t sure if the Varsennan was serious or mocking him but as long as he seemed to be happy, he didn’t care anymore.

“Now look at me,” he grabbed his wrist. “Why are you so tense?” he asked, amusement in his voice. “Relax.”

Kell forced a smile on his lips, but it felt wrong, fake. Gren didn’t seem convinced either. “Well, I think we have to practise that again.”

“I am sorry,” Kell said flatly, his voice barely a sound.

Gren wiped away a tear from Kell’s face. He was too close. Too close. Kell could smell perfume and sweat.

He closed his eyes as if that might change anything. He was trembling so hard, he could feel it echoing in his chest.

“Lord Berenos, what a nice surprise meeting you here.”

The hand in Kell’s hair froze.

Another Varsennan had come close.

He bowed to Gren - or Lord Berenos. “I was wondering if you’d have a moment to talk with me about the situation in Soria …”

“Marcus,” Gren sighed. “Can’t you see I’m busy right now?”

Marcus dipped his head. “I beg your pardon. I … I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t important.”

“I can take care of him until you’re back,” Not-Gren said.

Gren sighed again. He pulled his hand back from Kell’s hair and it felt like a crushing weight dropped from him. Kell looked after them as they left the room.

He heard the rusting of cloth and hastily turned his head back to the remaining Varsennan.

“Don’t be scared,” he said and Kell’s muscles locked.

“I know you recognise me.”

Kell didn’t dare looking up at him.

“And I know you probably don’t want to talk to me again, but I have a deal for you, and I think you’ll accept.”

Kell didn’t answer. He didn't trust him one bit. Especially after everything that had happened but it’s not like he could tell him to fuck off.

The Varsennan leaned forward until his mouth was directly beside Kell’s ear. “If your sparrow friend manages to get to the small kitchen during Saturday’s show, we can get him out of here.”

Kell’s heart skipped a beat. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“You said you never do anything out of mere kindness.”

“You’re learning.” He paused. He barely moved as his eyes skimmed the room. “His family contacted us. They're paying a lot of money for his safe return.”

“His family,” Kell echoed. Something bitter was mixed in with his relief and it took Kell a moment to realise it was jealousy. He shoved the feeling far away.

“How do I know you're telling the truth. How do I know that it’ll work this time?” Kell asked.

“Our plans always work out,” the Varsennan said pointedly. “Last time it didn’t work because you muddled things up.” It felt like a knife in his chest. “Also, it will be so much easier during a show night since everyone is busy.”

And this time they would probably get a lot more money out of it than last time. The thought was as bitter as unwelcoming but still if gave him hope.

“Promise me you’ll do everything to keep him safe,” Kell said.

The Varsennan lifted his eyebrows. “Who would have thought Oryn’s obedient little bird could be so demanding,” he muttered, looking around the room again. He waved a waitress over as if he’d all the time in the world.

“Thank you, dear,” he said as he took two glassed at once. The glasses clinked softly as he put them on the table.

“I promise,” he said finally. “Do I need to swear on my mother’s grave or is my word enough for you?”

“Don’t mess with me,” Kell said, his voice was shaking. His vision blurred and his skin tingled. Whatever they'd given him it started to kick in.

“I don’t,” the Varsennan said. “I promise I’ll take care of him until he is safely back with his family.”

This time it sounded sincere. Kell was trembling with too many emotions at once.

“So, everything is settled?”

“Wait,” Kell said slowly. “You still need a favour from me.”

“Well, we both have an interest in his rescue so I wouldn’t call it a favour.”

“You still need my help.”

“I could ask someone else.”

“But you didn’t.”

He sighed. “What else do you want? I already told you I can’t get you out right now. There are too many eyes on you.”

“Can you … can you find out about my family?” Kell asked and suddenly felt like there wasn’t enough air anymore. “I just want to know, if ... if they’re all right.”

His heart pondered in his chest and the spark of hope was painful and hot. He didn’t dare to move, and he was sure the Varsennan would refuse his plea.

When he finally spoke, Kell almost didn’t understand the words.

“I can try,” he said slowly. He sighed. “I can’t promise anything.”

The hope in Kell’s chest suddenly felt almost too heavy to bear.

“Now, if you’d like a way out of another encounter with Lord Berenos,” he pushed one of the two glasses into Kell’s hand. “Drink up.”

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Thank you for reading! @whumpzone @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @whump-cravings @tears-and-lilies @imagination1reality0 @suspicious-whumping-egg @i-can-even-burn-salad @siren-of-agony @villainsvictim (please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!)

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#whump writing #drugging #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #see?#there are some nice Varsennan after all #so very nice

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