Jesse part twelve

[maculategiraffe]

Part Eleven


Jesse's conversation with Quen was over almost before it began-- a few gasped "I love you"s and "I'm fine, everything's great here"s on both sides, "I miss you so much" from Jesse and "I miss you too beautiful, have you slept with Bran yet?" from Quen.

Jesse laughed. "Yes. Did you? I didn't get a chance to ask."

"A couple of times. I don't think either of us really likes topping though. I thought you'd like him."

"Tell me about the trip, Quen. Where are you?"

"I'm here. I mean, we crossed the border. It's a big city, bigger than Tenarus, and it's weird, there are beggars everywhere on the streets, Faye says it's because they don't have slavery here, isn't that funny? But I don't have time to-- Are they treating you okay?"

"Sure, fine. Who's Faye? Where are you? I mean, where are you calling from?"

"Some friends of Karl's and Tara's. They're letting me stay with them for now. There's a whole organization-- But I can't run up their phone bill, international rates... I've got to go. I'll see you soon, sweetheart."

"Okay," said Jesse, "but you're okay, right?"

"I'm great. I'll be better when you're here. I've got to--"

"I know, I know. Call again when you can, okay, I love you so fucking much, baby--"

"I love you, I love you, I love you, goodbye," and a click.

It wasn't until then that Jesse realized Holden and Bran had both withdrawn, perhaps to give him some privacy. He ran upstairs to his room, slammed the door shut, lay down on his back on the bed and smiled brilliantly at the ceiling.

"Everything," he told it softly, "is now officially okay."



He reiterated the sentiment to Bran as they sat on the steps outside the front door that evening, waiting for Valor and Lisa Kareyeva to arrive, and garnering a few interested looks from passersby who clearly knew the house by sight.

"Is it?" Bran asked, amused. "But what about you? You're not out yet."

"Doesn't matter," said Jesse. "He's safe. I'll be fine. I'm a survivor. He's not."

Bran started to answer, but stopped as a cab pulled up to the curb in front of the house and a tall, dark girl emerged laughing, turning to say something to a somewhat shorter, chestnut-haired girl, who was smiling as she followed the first girl from the car.

"Hi, Bran," said the dark girl, coming up to the outer steps as her friend paid the cab. "Don't get up, I'm sitting down. Hi, new kid."

"This is Jesse, Miss Valor," said Bran, making room for Valor on the step between himself and Jesse. "Hello, Lady Kareyeva."

The other girl had already come forward and sat down on the other side of Bran; to Jesse's slight surprise, she leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips. Jesse realized he hadn't seen anyone but Holden kiss Bran on the mouth since he had arrived. That in itself wasn't strange, but the difference between the passion with which Bran responded to Holden's kisses and the quiet though full compliance he was giving Kareyeva was astounding. There was nothing reluctant about his mouth on the girl's, but nothing remarkable, either; Jesse could have kissed her with equal competence, now that his mouth was healing. Even when, after she broke the kiss, Bran reached out to smooth back the girl's fine, flyaway hair with an affectionate look, and the two smiled into each other's eyes like a pair of young lovers on a park bench, Jesse couldn't help but think of the contrast between this quiet pleasure and the fierce, hungry joy that seemed to radiate from Bran when Holden's lips were on his.

"Get a room, lovebirds," said Valor amiably, opening an enormous black patent leather purse and reaching inside without looking.

Kareyeva giggled, putting a hand on Bran's back. "Shut up, Val. Just because you've sworn off men--"

"I have not sworn off men," said Valor, looking Jesse up and down with frank interest as she produced a mirrored powder compact from her bag. Jesse, remembering Holden saying My daughter's about as sensitive as a cast-iron frying pan, looked back rather nervously.

"When's the last time you brought one home?" said Kareyeva. "You're fidgeting, Val. Want a cigarette before we go in?"

"Can't smoke around the boys, sweetie," Valor said, inspecting herself critically in the mirror. "They're expensive. Anyway, I don't need one. I'm fine." She snapped her bag shut before looking back up at Jesse. "Jesse, right? So who are you in love with?"

Jesse hesitated, unsure what she meant, but sure that 'My supposedly dead runaway ex-fellow slave Quen' was the wrong answer.

"Who in this house have you picked out to follow around like a little puppy dog?" Valor clarified.

"Oh," said Jesse. "Um-- Bran, I guess. Miss."

"Oh, good choice," said Valor, unexpected dimples popping out as she smiled at Jesse.

Jesse grinned back despite himself. "Yes, Miss Valor."

"Hey, what's that on your teeth? Let me see." Jesse displayed his brace. "What happened to you?"

"My master punched me in the mouth," said Jesse truthfully, if ambiguously.

"Ouch. Guess that's why you're here, huh?"

"Yes, Miss Valor."

"I'm sorry. Hi, Mom!"

"Hello, darling," said Greta, stepping out onto the stoop, as Valor jumped up and flung her arms around her mother, kissing her affectionately and narrowly missing stepping on Jesse's fingers. "Why don't you come in?"

"I was just powdering my nose," said Valor, "and meeting Jesse. He's cute."

"You're easily distracted, darling," said Greta, smiling. "Come in. We're all in the lounge."


When they had all trailed inside, and proper greetings with Lady Kareyeva had been exchanged, Holden put an arm around his daughter and kissed her on the cheek. "Hello, trouble."

"Hi, Dad," she said, smiling. "Hi, Alix." Alix kissed her on her other cheek as Inga hung back with the closest thing to shyness that Jesse had seen from her yet. Valor looked up at her, blushing an oddly becoming pink. "Hi, Inga."

"Miss Valor," said Inga softly, smiling at the taller girl.

"Let's get this done, love," said Alix briskly. "Do you have the paperwork from the university?"

"Every last ream," said Valor, snapping her bag open again and producing a sheaf of folded papers, which she handed to Alix. "That was an interesting application process. You could see the wheels in their heads spinning. No title, made-up last name, parents not married, mother a slave--"

"Now do you see why we didn't want to do this while you were still legally a minor?" said Alix, paging through the stack.

"I thought it was because I was a complete self-absorbed brat," said Valor cheerfully.

"That too," said Holden. "Even now-- well, let's just say I wouldn't give you Bran."

"You wouldn't give anyone Bran unless it was at knifepoint, Dad," said Valor, grinning. "Is everything in order, Alix?"

"Looks to be," said Alix. "Come here and sign this, love." Valor obeyed; Jesse thought her hand was shaking a little. "There. You are now officially a slave owner."

"Don't do anything we wouldn't do," said Holden, as Valor turned, her eyes shining-- to Jesse's surprise-- with tears, and reached a hand to Inga, who came close to her, smiling. Valor blinked furiously as Inga knelt and bowed her head to the other girl's feet, pressing her lips to Valor's shoe.

"Mistress," she said, without looking up.

"Wow," said Valor, trying to laugh. "That sounds better than I expected. Get up, dear, and give me a kiss."

Inga rose obediently and the two girls shared a sweet, almost ceremonious kiss before Valor pulled away, adding with a valiant attempt at briskness, "I brought you some new clothes. Green does nothing for your complexion, Inga."

She fished in her bag and shook out a rolled-up black garment of a fine, light cotton. Inga smiled at the sight of it.

"Thank you, mistress," she said. "May I put it on now?"

"Do," said Valor. "I want to see how it looks."

Inga pulled off her green tunic-- making Lisa blush slightly and turn her face away from the slave girl's naked body-- folded it neatly and let Alix take it from her before accepting the black garment from Valor and slipping it over her head. Her golden skin and hair seemed to glow against the black, and the material flowed over her curves, accentuating them, but subtly. She looked stunning.

"Perfect," said Valor. "Oh, God. I'm going to cry. Thank you, Dad. Thank you, Mom. Thank you, Alix."

"Don't thank me," Greta said, smiling at her daughter. "I didn't give you anything."

"Of course you did," said Valor, and smiled crookedly at her mother. "You decided I was ready, or they wouldn't have-- and I am, I swear, I'm going to-- do this right."

"Luckily," said Holden, "you picked a girl who will bite you if you don't."

Valor cackled as Inga blushed, then leaned forward and kissed the slave girl on both cheeks. "She wouldn't bite me. Would you, Inga?"

"Not unless you wish it, mistress," said Inga softly, smiling.

Valor laughed again. "I might just... God, you're beautiful. Let's go eat before I make any more of a fool of myself."


Valor was extremely talkative over dinner.

"I'm already infamous on campus," she announced proudly. "You two are notorious, you know, everyone knows the slave breakers' daughter got the Blackburn fellowship, and just as icing on the cake there's the fact that I'm obsessed with all this slavery legislation. You would not believe some of the titled kids who act like I'm a runaway slave myself-- and then there are all the bleeding hearts who've never met a slave in their lives and want to talk about how all pleasure slaves should be automatically euthanized at age thirty as an act of kindness."

"Loki," said Holden, as Jesse glanced, startled, around the table at all the slaves over thirty. None of them looked surprised, though Jer's eyes were lowered and he looked tired. "Must startle them when you tell them they're advocating killing your mother."

"I know, right? And some of them want to free all slaves at a given age-- which isn't a bad idea in theory, but you'd have to go further with it, I mean economically, how is the workforce going to support a glut of thirty-five-year-olds with no trade training and with the stigma of being an ex-pleasure slave? Which isn't always just a stigma, I mean, no offense to you guys, but being a slave fits you for a very specific lifestyle, doesn't it, and not everybody's an entrepreneur waiting to bud."

"I'm a lazy slut, myself," said Holden. "But I think that was a pre-existing condition."

"How about legislation requiring owners to teach slaves a useful trade?" Greta suggested, as Jer sent a quick grin at Holden.

Valor pointed at her. "Exactly! That's what I'm talking about when I say you've got to take it further. Something should be done, though. The current legislation is a mess, nobody knows what the hell is going on, or what to protest exactly, because you've got the ones who land on their feet, like everybody here, and Uncle Kai and Sophie, and then you've got the ones whose owners sort of find something for them to do around the house and yard when they get too old for the bed and then put them to sleep nicely when they're too old for manual labor, and then you've got the ones who are dead anyway by twenty from suicide or exhaustion because their owners are evil bastards like Dunaev--"

"Or Presniakov," Alix agreed, nodding at Jesse, as Holden reached out and put a hand on Bran's back. Bran smiled at him.

Valor blinked at Alix for a moment, then resumed, "Anyway, what's really needed is more legislation on how to treat slaves before you're sick of them, maybe a background check before you're allowed to buy one, just basic stuff, like if you've killed one kid already maybe you don't get to buy another one."

"I like that idea," said Alix. "But would it work? I mean, could it be enforced?"

"Not totally," said Valor. "You'd always have the black market. But it would be a step in the right direction, and it would raise awareness." She looked at Yves as if for approval; he smiled at her.

Holden caught the look and raised an eyebrow. "Yves, have you been educating my daughter behind my back?"

Yves smirked at his master. "I do what I can. In those precious three minutes after the nineteenth orgasm when she's too exhausted to talk."

"Hey!" said Valor, as Lisa, who had been very quiet through all the meal so far, giggled nervously.

"It's a good thing you're doing, love," said Alix gently to Valor. "Especially considering the way you'll be... seen. By others."

Valor laughed suddenly. "Mom, tell the story about when I was six and the lady asked me who my parents were."

"We've all heard that story, lamb," said Greta, smiling.

"Inga hasn't. And Jesse."

"I'd taken you out shopping," said Greta indulgently, "and she must have assumed I was your nurse, so she ignored me and asked you who your parents were. You didn't answer, so she said, 'What grown-ups do you live with, dear?' and you said--"

"'My mama and my daddy and my mama's mistress and my daddy's slave,'" Valor recited with satisfaction. "That shut her up. Priss-faced bitch."

"Language, Val," said Greta, but she was laughing.

Valor smiled back. "Of course, when I was thirteen I found out it should have been 'my mama and my mama's mistress and my mama's mistress's husband and my mama's mistress' husband's slave.' But I'm still going to try to do you all proud."

"You already do, Miss Valor," said Yves, smiling fondly at her. "Gods, it's hard to believe you're the age now that I was when you were born. That was a strange night. The master was a complete nervous wreck, and Greta--"

"I was very, very calm," said Greta. "After the most weepy, angsty, violent pregnancy ever."

"Tell me about it," said Holden, laughing.

"No, please don't," Valor said, raising an eyebrow in a gesture weirdly reminiscent of her adoptive father.

"Oh, so oft-repeated anecdotes are fine when they're about your lisping precocity–"

"–but not when they're about my pregnant mom getting pissed off and kicking my dad in the balls, right," said Valor. "I'm weird, I know."

"If we've all finished eating, I think we should let the young people have some time to themselves," said Alix, as Jesse stared from Holden to Greta and back again. "Valor, love, why don't you take Lisa and Inga to the lounge. And Jesse and Bran may go with you."

"Do we still need a chaperone?" Valor grinned good-naturedly. "All right, you're right, I need to catch my breath, and you're all driving me crazy beaming at me. Come on, kids. Let's go."



In the lounge, Lisa Kareyeva's flirtation with Bran and Valor's running commentary quickly escalated to the point where Lisa took Bran by the hand and led him from the room, presumably towards some bed or other.

"Now that they're gone," said Valor, turning back to Inga, "tell me, most beautiful girl in the entire world--"

Inga grinned. "Mistress?"

"God, that sounds good. Say it again, sweet."

"Yes, mistress," Inga purred.

"Give me a kiss. My God. I've completely forgotten what I was going to say."

"Something about Bran or Lady Kareyeva, mistress?"

"Bran. Right. Oh, yes. Is it just me, or did something happen between Bran and my dad? My dad's got this whole 'hey you, what are you doing way over there' thing going on with the eyes."

"Something happened yesterday, mistress," said Inga, "but I'm not sure what. They went over to Lady Galenova's and Bran came back sobbing all over the master-- I mean, your father. Jesse was there."

"Ooh," said Valor, intrigued. "So spill, Jesse. What happened? Did my dad finally admit he's head over heels for his little orphan boy?"

Jesse was surprised into laughing out loud.

"No, Miss Valor," he said.

Valor dimpled at him again. "Ah, too bad. I think maybe he thinks Bran will feel safer if he thinks my dad just-- takes care of him. Because people fall out of love, but they don't fall out of feeling responsible for people. Except they do, don't they? Maybe I should marry Bran, to keep him in the family. What do you think?"

Jesse shook his head, grinning. "Bran would be scared of you, Miss Valor."

Valor grinned back. "How do you know that's not what I want in a husband?"

"I think you want someone who can stand up to you, Miss Valor," said Jesse thoughtfully. "Maybe even someone who'll bite you a little bit."

"Heh," said Valor appreciatively, as Inga giggled. "Stick around, Jesse. Maybe I'll marry you."

He was saved from having to answer by Bran's return, alone and looking a little flustered.

"Where's Lisa?" Valor demanded.

Bran blushed. "With Yves, Miss. The master said he didn't want to deal with the screaming if she saw what my body looks like right now."

"Uh-oh," said Valor. "What does your body look like right now?"

Bran glanced sideways at Jesse with a small, secret smile.

"Never mind," said Valor, grinning. "I saw that look. You're such a slut, Bran. I don't know how Dad ever has time to do anything else. Or anyone."

"I try not to be trouble, Miss Valor," said Bran, sitting back down next to Jesse and taking his hand in an easy, unselfconscious gesture. Pleased, Jesse squeezed the other boy's hand.

"Heard you'd been making trouble at Galenova's," said Valor casually, and Bran flushed and looked accusingly at Jesse, who jerked his head emphatically at Inga. Inga smiled serenely at Bran. "Is that right, Dad?"

Bran and Jesse looked up, startled, to see Holden pausing in the doorway, hand in hand with Jer.

"No, that wasn't trouble," he said, coming halfway in the door, as Jer sent a thoughtful glance at Bran. "Attempted trouble, maybe. Bran is not very good at being bad."

His tone was teasing, and Bran smiled a little, looking embarrassed.

"Well, that's lucky," said Valor, "because you're not very good at punishing him."

"I can see how you feel qualified to comment on my disciplinary practices," said Holden, "out of the wealth of experience that is your ninety-three minutes so far of slave ownership."

"I'm just saying," said Valor with an unruffled grin at her father. "If this is how he looks the day after attempted trouble, I'd like to see him on the day he actually pleases you."

"He always pleases me," said Holden calmly, before moving on past the door, Jer in tow, leaving behind a furiously blushing Bran.

"You don't say," said Valor, shaking her head and looking at Jesse, who had to bite his cheeks to keep from laughing.

Part Thirteen