Post by devilinthedetails on Jul 8, 2022 0:28:17 GMT 10
Series: Son of Carthak
Title: Inventing New Truths
Rating: PG-13 for sexual content and drinking
Event: Up to No Good
Words: 992
Summary: Binur, his truths, and his lies.
Inventing New Truths
Binur, Mequen–who had been Binur’s best friend for as long as he could remember and was now becoming his boyfriend–, and two boys his age–he thought their names were Jabari and Sethos, but it was hard to know for certain when he might have already tipped back too many glasses of fine Tyran wine–whom he pretended were his friends at least when he was intoxicated floated in a pleasure barge along the Zekoi.
Binur, perched on a mountain of satin pillows, stared at the river drifting beneath the slow-moving barge. At the thousand sterling stars dancing drunkenly in the water. Uncorked a fresh bottle of Tyran red as, emboldened by alcohol, an idea for diversion occurred to him. A game common among the teenagers of the cut-throat Carthaki court. One designed to test how convincingly they could lie. Even when three sheets to the wind as the captain who had taught Binur and his father before him how to sail would so colorfully phrase it.
“Let’s play Truth and Lies,” he proclaimed as he finished opening the wine bottle. Truth and Lies. The rules were simple. One player made a statement. The rest judged whether it was a truth or a lie. The player who offered the statement had to take a sip of wine for each time a player had guessed correctly while those who guessed incorrectly were required to take their own sips of wine.
Truth and Lies. It was a game best played when drunk. When the line between truth and lies blurred as did vision. When truth and lies mixed together like liqueur and fruit juice creating a cocktail. Becoming the same substance or near enough as to be indistinguishable from each other.
A round of raucous cheers and clapping followed this declaration.
Binur waited for it to subside before he went on, “I will go first. Sometimes I do not want to be heir to the throne. To become emperor one day after my father has gone to the gods.”
“Lie!” Sethos exclaimed immediately. “Who wouldn’t want to be emperor?”
“Everyone would want to be emperor.” Jabari was quick to chorus his agreement. “Lie.”
Mequen studied Binur shrewdly over the rim of his empty wine glass. Gazing at Binur with such intensity that Binur felt compelled to drop his eyes to the lushly carpeted floor of the barge. “Truth.”
Realizing he could never admit his weakness, his truth, Binur took two sips of wine from the bottle. Handed it to Mequen, who continued to scrutinize him in a disconcertingly knowing fashion as Binur offered the ultimate falsehood. Announcing, “Lie.”
Since Mequen had ended up with the bottle, it was his turn to put forth a statement. “I have never kissed a girl.”
“Lie.” Sethos gave an indolent wave of his hand. “Every boy our age has kissed a girl.”
“Even if it is only a slave girl.” Jabari smirked. “Lie.”
Binur thought of the clumsy kisses he and Mequen exchanged in shadows and stolen moments. The fervent tangle of limbs their bodies made when they embraced. More enthusiastic than experienced in their ardor. “Truth.”
Mequen sipped twice from the wine bottle. Passed it back to Binur. “Lie.”
Binur felt a strange, savage blend of rage, shame, and jealousy whirl impotently through him as he accepted the bottle from Mequen. Sipped at it. Found it tasted like bitter poison as it slid across his tongue and down his throat. Bitter poison. Like the idea of Mequen kissing a girl. Kissing anyone besides Binur, in fact.
He ached to confront Mequen for his unfaithfulness, but, when the barge docked at the palace wharf, it was Mequen who dared to accuse him. Pulling Binur away from Jabari and Sethos. Dragging him beneath a palm tree. Hissing like a wrathful cobra, “You lied. There are times when you don’t want to be heir to the throne. To be emperor after your father is dead.”
“How would you know that?” Binur arched an eyebrow. The thrust and jab of their passionate, tumultuous relationship. “I never told you that.”
“You didn’t have to.” Mequen shook his head. Almost spitting. Almost scathing. Only almost. “I know without you having to tell me. That is how close we are.”
“Oh.” Binur folded his arms across his chest. An intimidating pose inherited from his father. “If we are so close, why don’t I know that you kissed a girl or what her name was?”
“Why does it matter that I kissed a girl?” Mequen’s shrug only stoked Binur’s ire. Fanning the flames of his fury. “I didn’t enjoy it nearly as much as I do kissing you.”
“It matters because you never told me you kissed a girl,” Binur snapped. Jealousy burning through his veins. Scorching him to smoldering ash.
“You never asked.” Mequen shrugged again. Flippantly.
“What was the girl’s name?” Binur grasped Mequen’s wrist. Tight as a gold bracelet. “I’m asking now.”
“I can’t tell you.” Mequen leaned toward Binur. Lips brushing against Binur’s angry mouth. “I’ve already forgotten her name.”
“Will you forget my name?” Binur returned Mequen’s kiss. Hungrily. Like a starving man eager for sustenance. Desperately craving assurance and affection.
“Never.” Mequen deepened the kiss. Pressing his tongue between Binur’s lips. Brushing it senuously and seductively along Binur’s. Exploring the contours of Binur’s mouth.
When Mequen kissed him in such a way, Binur thought that he could forget Mequen had ever kissed a nameless girl. Might even be able to forget his own name. But not Mequen’s. Never Mequen’s. Mequen’s name would be on his lips forever. Branded into him.
Their kiss ended. Both of them pulling apart. Breathlessly surfacing to seek air to fill their heaving lungs. Panting with passion and desire, Binur echoed a lesson his father had taught him long ago. “I did not lie to you earlier, Mequen. We of the imperial family do not lie. We merely invent new truths as it is convenient for us.”
Title: Inventing New Truths
Rating: PG-13 for sexual content and drinking
Event: Up to No Good
Words: 992
Summary: Binur, his truths, and his lies.
Inventing New Truths
Binur, Mequen–who had been Binur’s best friend for as long as he could remember and was now becoming his boyfriend–, and two boys his age–he thought their names were Jabari and Sethos, but it was hard to know for certain when he might have already tipped back too many glasses of fine Tyran wine–whom he pretended were his friends at least when he was intoxicated floated in a pleasure barge along the Zekoi.
Binur, perched on a mountain of satin pillows, stared at the river drifting beneath the slow-moving barge. At the thousand sterling stars dancing drunkenly in the water. Uncorked a fresh bottle of Tyran red as, emboldened by alcohol, an idea for diversion occurred to him. A game common among the teenagers of the cut-throat Carthaki court. One designed to test how convincingly they could lie. Even when three sheets to the wind as the captain who had taught Binur and his father before him how to sail would so colorfully phrase it.
“Let’s play Truth and Lies,” he proclaimed as he finished opening the wine bottle. Truth and Lies. The rules were simple. One player made a statement. The rest judged whether it was a truth or a lie. The player who offered the statement had to take a sip of wine for each time a player had guessed correctly while those who guessed incorrectly were required to take their own sips of wine.
Truth and Lies. It was a game best played when drunk. When the line between truth and lies blurred as did vision. When truth and lies mixed together like liqueur and fruit juice creating a cocktail. Becoming the same substance or near enough as to be indistinguishable from each other.
A round of raucous cheers and clapping followed this declaration.
Binur waited for it to subside before he went on, “I will go first. Sometimes I do not want to be heir to the throne. To become emperor one day after my father has gone to the gods.”
“Lie!” Sethos exclaimed immediately. “Who wouldn’t want to be emperor?”
“Everyone would want to be emperor.” Jabari was quick to chorus his agreement. “Lie.”
Mequen studied Binur shrewdly over the rim of his empty wine glass. Gazing at Binur with such intensity that Binur felt compelled to drop his eyes to the lushly carpeted floor of the barge. “Truth.”
Realizing he could never admit his weakness, his truth, Binur took two sips of wine from the bottle. Handed it to Mequen, who continued to scrutinize him in a disconcertingly knowing fashion as Binur offered the ultimate falsehood. Announcing, “Lie.”
Since Mequen had ended up with the bottle, it was his turn to put forth a statement. “I have never kissed a girl.”
“Lie.” Sethos gave an indolent wave of his hand. “Every boy our age has kissed a girl.”
“Even if it is only a slave girl.” Jabari smirked. “Lie.”
Binur thought of the clumsy kisses he and Mequen exchanged in shadows and stolen moments. The fervent tangle of limbs their bodies made when they embraced. More enthusiastic than experienced in their ardor. “Truth.”
Mequen sipped twice from the wine bottle. Passed it back to Binur. “Lie.”
Binur felt a strange, savage blend of rage, shame, and jealousy whirl impotently through him as he accepted the bottle from Mequen. Sipped at it. Found it tasted like bitter poison as it slid across his tongue and down his throat. Bitter poison. Like the idea of Mequen kissing a girl. Kissing anyone besides Binur, in fact.
He ached to confront Mequen for his unfaithfulness, but, when the barge docked at the palace wharf, it was Mequen who dared to accuse him. Pulling Binur away from Jabari and Sethos. Dragging him beneath a palm tree. Hissing like a wrathful cobra, “You lied. There are times when you don’t want to be heir to the throne. To be emperor after your father is dead.”
“How would you know that?” Binur arched an eyebrow. The thrust and jab of their passionate, tumultuous relationship. “I never told you that.”
“You didn’t have to.” Mequen shook his head. Almost spitting. Almost scathing. Only almost. “I know without you having to tell me. That is how close we are.”
“Oh.” Binur folded his arms across his chest. An intimidating pose inherited from his father. “If we are so close, why don’t I know that you kissed a girl or what her name was?”
“Why does it matter that I kissed a girl?” Mequen’s shrug only stoked Binur’s ire. Fanning the flames of his fury. “I didn’t enjoy it nearly as much as I do kissing you.”
“It matters because you never told me you kissed a girl,” Binur snapped. Jealousy burning through his veins. Scorching him to smoldering ash.
“You never asked.” Mequen shrugged again. Flippantly.
“What was the girl’s name?” Binur grasped Mequen’s wrist. Tight as a gold bracelet. “I’m asking now.”
“I can’t tell you.” Mequen leaned toward Binur. Lips brushing against Binur’s angry mouth. “I’ve already forgotten her name.”
“Will you forget my name?” Binur returned Mequen’s kiss. Hungrily. Like a starving man eager for sustenance. Desperately craving assurance and affection.
“Never.” Mequen deepened the kiss. Pressing his tongue between Binur’s lips. Brushing it senuously and seductively along Binur’s. Exploring the contours of Binur’s mouth.
When Mequen kissed him in such a way, Binur thought that he could forget Mequen had ever kissed a nameless girl. Might even be able to forget his own name. But not Mequen’s. Never Mequen’s. Mequen’s name would be on his lips forever. Branded into him.
Their kiss ended. Both of them pulling apart. Breathlessly surfacing to seek air to fill their heaving lungs. Panting with passion and desire, Binur echoed a lesson his father had taught him long ago. “I did not lie to you earlier, Mequen. We of the imperial family do not lie. We merely invent new truths as it is convenient for us.”