History of Beauty

by Meraki P. Lyhne

  “I have wronged a man because I acted in anger. A silent man’s honor was tarnished by the actions of others. And while I do not mourn the freedom I took from them, then I now recognize that Ole’s was not mine to take from him. I left him marked only by a shame that time can heal as his hair and beard grows out again.

  “Ole, please, join me up here.”

  Ole stepped onto the table, shaking.

  “I did not mark you as I did the others, and I do feel I was right in taking something from you. You stood silently by while your friend needed you. I can never condone actions like that. But I took too much from you.” Elakdon handed him a gold arm ring. “Accept this to mark you as a free man, and I will ask no loyalty in return.”

  Ole took the ring with a shaky hand and placed it on his arm. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice failing him.

  Elakdon motioned for him to step down again. “So why do we feast?” Elakdon asked, addressing the room and the many faces turned his way. “Because your King got smarter. I hope that the strength this lesson has taught me will always be in your favor. I hope it will leave you with the sense that I will always listen and think about what you come and tell me, and that it won’t leave you with the feeling that you have a weak and incompetent King.

  “If the latter is the case, then feast in honor of a man whose honor is restored.”

  Elakdon pointed at Ole, then stepped off the table, his feelings a turmoil of dread that the latter was the case.

  “Oh, no, Young Nol!” Nol-Plydon stepped onto the table. “Step back up. You are far from the first Royal to stand in front of his people in shame. We all do that at some point. What is important is that we do.”

  Elakdon stepped back up onto the table and looked at all the faces around him. Relief surged through him as he didn’t see growing distrust or shame of having him as their King in most of the faces turned his way.

  Nol-Plydon leaned in to whisper. “Green eyes are but the time to allow this important experience before real power is handed to us. I, too, have stood where you do now, and I had dark blue eyes at the time. The first two times, I failed to have the strength to stand up the way you just did. You say you strive to live and die by your honor? You, young Nol, certainly are a man of such honor when you step up here the very first time you sense your own impeded by your actions.”

  The old King stepped back, then bowed to Elakdon.

  A rush went through Elakdon as the Cubi in the room scrambled to their feet and either bowed deeply or knelt.

  Some of the humans did, too, Ole being one of them. Randr looked too shocked to do anything, and the look in his eyes caused an even stronger stirring of emotions, and Elakdon suddenly felt fantastic.

  His eyes stung, yet he remained standing by the old King.

  “Sit now and process all you have just learned. There is more to this lesson than shame.” Nol-Plydon helped Elakdon down to sit.

  Elakdon immediately caught the eye of Randr, and he still looked shocked.

  Randr leaned over. “I misjudged you, young King. I’m sorry.”

  “No, I get it. You have seen power corrupt someone so close to you that you fear it. I understand. Believe it or not, but that is what helped me learn.”

  “You provide something valuable here. Strength. Had the rules for my village, stating that a less than fighting abled body may not take the Earl’s seat, then I would have risen to the task after you just showed the way on how you do not let power corrupt. Thank you for freeing my friend.”

  “Thank you for the lesson.”

  “Oh, I don’t think I was important enough in it.”

  “Then I am not the only one you thought too little of. You think too little of yourself, too.”

  Randr looked touched by that.

  Windin came over, standing at a distance, yet Elakdon felt that motherly need in her.

  “Excuse me.” He rose, and she hugged him tightly.

  The world stood still whenever she did, yet he felt her arms encircle him like when he was a child. It was a different hug. A protective hug. “You make me proud,” she whispered.

  “You make me strong,” he whispered back.

  She tightened her grip, then let go to pull back and smile up at him. She cupped his face. “Celebrate your wisdom, son.” She then stepped back and took Bo’s hand. He looked a mixture between proud and puzzled. But he smiled at Elakdon, leaving no question that Elakdon had his support.

  A blue-eye came up and bowed, smiling as she left.

  Her departure left Elakdon looking around, and more and more came closer to touch him, squeezing his arm or hand or shoulder, smiling and bowing their head.

  Again, it left Elakdon with a lump in his throat and the sense that his humiliation had taught him more in a week than any spanking ever could.

  It took a good fifteen minutes of Cubi coming over to one way or another secure him in his insecurities. They didn’t see him as the failure he’d feared they would. Yet, in the back of his mind, the look on Randr’s face kept popping up. That look of awe and respect sent a thrill through his body and heart.

  Finally, he returned to his seat, and he once again enjoyed the silent presence of Randr. He loved watching the man in silence as he seemed so in peace. It rubbed off on Elakdon. He felt peace with the quiet man around. His silence spoke volumes, and that alone made Elakdon appreciate what it had taken for the man to not only speak out against his life-long friend, but to kill him.

  Elakdon had a new level of appreciation for just how strong Randr had to be to stand up against what he then thought was wrong. Knowing his belief in the Cubi race as sons and daughters of the gods made Elakdon look at the man quite differently.

  Returning to his seat, Elakdon stayed quiet, taking in the support he had, but hadn’t expected to such an extent.

  At one point he looked up, the gaze he caught from Randr sending a jolt of warmth through his system. A man that strong deserved to be able to inspire and touch someone that strongly.

  As the hours passed, and the mead took hold, Elakdon sought out a feeding partner rather than basking in the quiet calmness and humor of seeing Randr and his friend celebrate his freedom.

  Foldon needed him, so Elakdon retired with him, getting humped silly. But once the doses wore off, and Elakdon found himself swaddled in his Fountain’s strong and protective grip, his thoughts returned to the silent human and his penetrative gaze. He longed for the calm he felt when sitting in his presence, and none of them spoke a word.

  The days were back to normal except for the fact that they had made it into Jól. They had watched the women do the Jól sacrifice. All the Cubs and the kids of the village helped tie the straw into resembling Thor’s goats, and the men of the village made eight huge goats to stand in pairs by every entrance to their shared area.

  The smaller ones decorated the village and homes along with the heads of the animals that were partially sacrificed to the gods and partially prepared for the Yuletide feast throughout the month of calling the sun back to the sky.

  Soon, Yule blót would arrive, and once they all sobered up, they’d leave for Ting.

  Elakdon kept an eye on his people’s reactions to him eating his words, yet it didn’t look like his humiliation affected their trust in him. The shame-marked men were slowly being released to see Ole and Randr enjoy a high status as guests while their own dishonor had earned them their place.

  They were never left alone, and the thralls of Elakdon’s House had a hierarchy that left no one curious about who had the final word. In doubt, Father dished out the law as set forth in the entire time he’d been in charge of his House, and Elakdon hadn’t changed that. He had more important things to worry about. Like him learning how to become a worthy King of his people and keep his very hungry Fountain fed. He needed to feed, too, and Royal Guards or the Royals themselves humped him several times a day.

  He barely got to have the much-appreciated silent time with Randr, and he missed it. He missed him.


  Feeling bowlegged and dizzy from a feeding, Elakdon plopped down on his high chair to eat human food. He could barely overcome it and hoped he’d soon no longer need it.

  Two Cubs chased each other through the long hall.

  “No running near the hearth!” Father shouted.

  The Cubs stopped, one too late to not stumble over the other and land face first on the clay floor.

  Elakdon bolted from his seat as the Cub burst into tears. “And this is why Father shouts at us.” He picked the Cub up into his arms and looked at her. The Cub pouted at him. “You are not the first nor the last Cub to feel the sting of this floor.” The pout grew bloody, and Elakdon chuckled. “Nor the first to bleed from it. Come on. Let’s see those teeth.”

  Father had said the exact same thing to Elakdon when he’d bit his own lip. Elakdon took the Cub to his chair and sat her on his lap. He then made the face of showing his teeth, and the Cub mimicked him. He then felt her teeth to make sure none was loose.

  Windin came over with a cold rag, smiling as she handed it to him.

  She’d done that with Elakdon on Father’s lap, too.

  “Bite this,” Elakdon said, shoving the cool rag into the Cub’s mouth, and the Cub pouted around the cold rag, biting it, a fat tear from each eye having painted a trail down her cheeks.

  Randr sat next to him, grinning, his fingers on the broken arm working a bit better. Enough to hold a horn. Nil-Savadin sat across from Randr, stitching the hem of a dress.

  The Cub pointed at Randr’s eye, then pulled the rag from her mouth. “It’s ugly.”

  Randr turned his head to hide that half of his face, pulling a rag from his belt to cover the scar.

  “Don’t do that,” Elakdon said.

  Randr stopped and lowered the rag, sitting quietly yet not turned facing the Cub.

  Elakdon looked at the Cub. “Do you know how he got that scar?”

  “No. I’m too short to see that day.” She then bit into the rag again.

  “Until our eyes are touched by magic, we will scar for life. Humans scar all their lives, and they will keep their scars. There are two kinds of scars, and we have one kind in common. The ones only felt in here.” Elakdon touched the spot on his chest that had burned a week earlier as he ate his words and set Ole free. “But a scar is not ugly. It is a testament that we have survived a challenge of the gods and that we have come out victoriously. Randr chose to fight for our honor. Like Odin gave an eye for wisdom, Randr gave his eye to defend the Cubi people.”

  Randr tucked the rag into his belt and turned his face fully for the Cub on Elakdon’s knee to see him. He seemed confident and appeased by Elakdon’s words, setting off the now usual sense of butterflies in Elakdon’s stomach.

  What a respect-worthy man he had to be to cause such emotions.

  “Do you think it makes him beautiful?” the Cub asked, puzzled.

  “Beauty to the Cubi people is…well, I’d hump Father in a heartbeat. Look at that neat beard. And Huldin? Look at that fine pale skin. And Lokdon? Look at those strong arms. But with humans, it is different. The Cubi love beauty to behold, but humans can be pleasing to the eye or sometimes hide a gem within themselves that cannot be seen by the eye. Like courage.”

  Elakdon sat back, tucking the Cub into his embrace. He remembered a time long ago.

  “When I was your age, there was a human here who told the most marvelous stories about battle. His name was Vagn. He would jump onto the table or chase us around the hearth while relaying stories of great deeds once unfolding. Oddly enough, Father never said he should not run around the hearth.”

  That last part came out in a puzzled tone, yet it made the Cub laugh.

  “One day, a Cub told him to prove that he was a great warrior, and Vagn leaned over the table, grinning at the Cub. He then said, Cub, be careful who you invite to meet you in battle. I am old and scarred for a reason.”

  The Cub chewed her cold rag in thought, then pulled it from her mouth. “Oh, I see! He was old and scarred because he was good enough to survive!”

  “Exactly, Cub. Now chew your cold cloth, or you will show the world the scar of losing to the floor of the hearth.”

  The Cub chewed the cloth harder.

  Randr laughed loudly, and the sound of his laughter made Elakdon’s heart flutter.

  Windin came over, smiling and holding out her arms to take over the nurture of the little Succubus. “You will make a great big brother, my son.”

  Elakdon left the girl with his mother, and his heart warmed by her sentiment.

  “I cannot help but feel touched by your story, King. Or do I feel the center of your story on a false basis?”

  “No, Randr. If you didn’t see yourself the center of my story, then you still think too little of yourself.”

  Randr smiled, staring at the table. “I was never a handsome man. You heard Knud shove that in my face.”

  “Yes, and I heard your reply of thinking your honor above that.”

  “It was to shove that in his face, as he had lost all of his. But I was hurt that I never deserved a second glance the nights he was chosen by up to three. This happened twice at the party of a son’s or daughter’s eyes taking on the magic of the gods.”

  “Yet you are the one who holds the full focus of their King.”

  Randr looked up, gasping loudly.

  Elakdon didn’t break their eye-contact. “The gem of a human is hard to spot for a people so focused on the beauty of the shell. But I’ve seen many such shells, and I’ve seen what lies hidden within.” Elakdon wondered if Randr had ever seen one of those shells being brought back by a traveling salesman. Either way, he certainly got the analogy. Maybe because he knew of the clams local to their own waters with pale blue surfaces, but once opened up, they shone on the inside. “I have seen beautiful shells empty, too.”

  Randr remained quiet, and Elakdon enjoyed his presence and nothing more, yet he didn’t sense the same ease coming from the man whose silence he found such peace in.

  Did he understand?

  Nil-Savadin stroked Elakdon’s hand, and he looked up, finding her gaze penetrative. She then stood, and Elakdon understood that he had to follow her as she left her sewing on the table and walked toward the back of the hall.

  “Promise me one thing, young Prince.”

  “Anything, Nil.”

  “Do not listen to Nol-Plydon in anything that has to do with Randr.” She placed her hand on Elakdon’s chest, and hunger instantly burned his skin. “Follow only what you feel here.” She cocked her head. “Now feed me and on me so that you may focus on him again.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Gingerly, Elakdon pried himself out from Foldon’s protective grip. He loved the sensation of his arms around him, yet after the conversation with Nil-Savadin that day, Elakdon felt he needed the soothing comfort of Randr’s silent presence.

  He was no longer being watched every hour of the day. His fever had well and truly broken, and the man was in need of nothing more than rest.

  Yet, Elakdon loved staying near him. Ever since their first conversation, Elakdon had felt a strange sense of peace around him that he hadn’t found when sitting alone with Father, offering his version of silent support. Maybe it was because Elakdon didn’t simply feel support from Randr? He felt a deep-seated urge to better himself, and he ended up in contemplation on how to do that when he watched Randr sleep and listened to his steady breathing.

  So Elakdon slipped out of his bed, shivering from the cold. He draped himself in his skin robe and tiptoed through the hall. The Cubi feeding were somewhat quiet about it. Their moans and pants were often enough for everyone to be used to the noise and sleep straight through the needs of the night.

  Even Randr had been there long enough, or his body still needed enough rest to deprive his brain the luxury of being vigilant. Didn’t matter. Elakdon would watch over the man brave enough to stand up to a friend.

  He perched on the edge of the bed, yet Randr’s
breath didn’t change. It was a stupid idea to try to see Randr now, since Elakdon was tired and humped weary to the bones by his Fountain. Finally, Elakdon laid down next to Randr, snuggling close enough to use his shoulder to rest his head on.

  A warm comfort overtook him, and Elakdon fell asleep there.

  Randr stirring woke Elakdon up. He sat halfway up, but he felt mellow and still tired. When Randr moved his arm out of the way and held it out in a silent invitation, Elakdon snuggled closer and sighed in contentment.

  “I don’t understand what this is,” Randr said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your closeness. Why you seek out to lie in my arms.”

  “Oh.” Elakdon sat up. “Does it bother you?”

  “No, not even a little.”

  Elakdon studied the man, contemplating the puzzlement on his face. “I guess since our feedings can be very intimate, we are…physical creatures.”

  “I do enjoy that part.” Randr reached for Elakdon, pulling him back to lie on his chest again. He stroked Elakdon’s back soothingly.

  “I can’t even feed on you.” Elakdon heard the defeated tone in his own voice.

  Randr’s hand stopped stroking Elakdon for a second, then picked back up. “I don’t understand. I see you feed on men.”

  “No, you see me feed on Cubi. Royals stop feeding on humans almost immediately. They cannot provoke my hunger at all.”

  “Then…then I’m honored to be in your focus at all.” He sounded honored. And a bit disappointed.

  Elakdon propped himself up on his elbows to look at Randr. “I love being with you, and I can’t even explain why. I don’t know what it means, but I—I—” Elakdon leaned in and pressed his lips against Randr’s mouth.

  A groan escaped between their lips, and an explosion of emotions went off in Elakdon as Randr pulled him close, deepening the kiss. He hadn’t been kissed like that before. He’d never felt like that before.