Fiction: The Favourite

[kethni]

Name: The Favourite
Pairing: Matt/Mohinder
Rating: 15
Warnings: Sexual scenes
Note: Huge thanks to boudecia7for letting me use her original character and as always for the beta.
Birthday fic for dragon6593who wanted a sequel to Whipping Boy



The bed is empty once more. His side is still warm though so he’s not long abandoned me. Blast, how does the connecting passage open? Matthew always changes the subject when I ask him to show me. I am convinced he does it on purpose. He does like to have his secrets.

“I see you flee my bed again,” I say when he enters my chamber carrying a tray. I do not know what blind beggar they have dressing him, his hair is stuck all ways at the back.

“Your Majesty?” He asks, putting the tray on the bed.

“Matthew, come back to bed,” I urge, reaching an arm around his neck and pulling him into a kiss. “Leave breakfast.”

Just as I am thinking that I might for once get my own way, he removes my arm and pulls back.

“Your Majesty has a meeting with the Lord Chamberlain within the hour,” he says mildly.

“About what?” It is galling how I have to barter and plead for time to my own pleasure.

Matthew looks at me with wry amusement. “Majesty, the succession what else?”

“Succession be damned, come back to bed.”

“It pleases your Majesty to jest,” he says with a sharp tone, as he uncovers the platters.

“Are you angry with me?” I rub his arm. “When I am the one whose bed is forsaken I think it most unfair.”

He catches my hand in his and lifts it up to kiss it. “I am never angry with your Majesty, merely concerned.”

A brazen lie but sweetly done. “What concerns you, Matthew?”

He sits down on the bed and gently brushes the hair from my face. “It does not do to jest about the succession.”

“Not even with you?”

“Not even with your faithful servant,” he says mildly. “Your Majesty knows he is never truly alone. His words are always heard.”

“Who hears when it is we alone?” I ask, leaning to kiss him.

His hand strokes my face. “While we are indoors we are never alone, Majesty. As sure as we are the only ones in here, be certain there are slaves and servants outside.”

“They will be discreet, Matthew,” I say, for I have never known else, and certainly not from the man in front of me.

“Your Majesty is trusting, indeed.”

Ah, I am in error again. Where would I be without Matthew’s little aids and suggestions? So, for some reason he is concerned about what might be overheard.

“I should like to go riding later.” Then perhaps we can speak without worry.

“As your Majesty pleases,” he says approvingly. Pleasant to know I can at least do something correct.

“So now I am to eat and then to talk haggle of a bride price, am I?”

Matthew stands and begins making my toilet ready. His cloak is ripped at the back. “You need not haggle, Majesty. That is what your privy councillors are for.”

“Hold please, turn about.”

“Majesty?” he asks, looking at me as I climb from the bed.

“Matthew, what offence have you done your slaves that they let you out in such a condition?” I tug off his cloak and hand it to him. “See now, it is all ripped and frayed and your hair is a fright.”

He reddens and looks at his feet as I smooth his hair. “I beg your Majesty’s pardon for appearing so poorly presented. It shall not happen again.”

I have never seen him so ill cared for and dressed as he has since his elevation. Truly, he would have never allowed me to be seen in such a state. I cannot understand it since he has had five different slaves that I know of. They cannot be so uniformly lacking.

“I begin to think your slaves are making something of a jest of you,” I suggest, and his shoulders set unpleasantly tight. Surely not so? Matthew was born a slave and lived in the palace since he was a child, why would his former acquaintances not treat him with at least as much kindness as they would me?

“It amuses your Majesty to tease his faithful servant.”

“Tease you as I might I would never let you out in such a condition. Take one of my cloaks and if that comes back ripped I will know the meaning of it.”

He looks away and twists his cloak between his hands. “Your Majesty is too kind. With your leave while you break your fast I will get another cloak.”

I put my hand on his arm. The pleasure of touching him at will has not abated, I hope it will not. “As you insist, go now while I eat. Then you can dress me well enough to show your slave the proper manner.”

I used to think Matthew’s close mouth was due to the difference in our rank. In bed, he shares his warm affections and tenderness yet he is as jealous of his worries and concerns now as he ever was.



The Lord Chamberlain has miniatures and lockets of eligible princesses. This one has money, this one has land, this one has connections. It is an unpleasant business this purchasing a bride, it suits me very ill. I have Matthew and yet I must insist on her fidelity to ensure an heir. It is an affront to my sense of fairness to hold a wife higher than myself.

“Have you no likeness of Princess Maya?” Matthew asks.

That is an expression indeed on the Chamberlain’s face even though it vanishes so quickly.

“Why that turn of face?” I ask.

“Why, Majesty, merely that Princess Maya is... perhaps not the best match,” he says quickly.

“Why so?”

He grinds his teeth and plays with the images he has spread out. “She is known not to be tempted much by men.”

Matthew smiles slightly. “Then there would be little risk of a bastard child.”

“Little chance of love either,” the Chamberlain snaps. Such a tone I would not expect to hear aimed at a disobedient slave.

“Of love!” I laugh. “Lord Chamberlain, come now. What royal splice is aimed at love? The purchase of an heir is the start and end of it, is it not?”

“Your Majesty!” he stammers. “Your Majesty!”

“Come now,” I say again. “Shall we insult you with pretence at innocence? We all know the matter is children, and alliance with money and land as secondary considerations. We will make eyes and compliments if that if the done thing, but we would not have them believed. That would be cruel and inhuman indeed.”

The Chamberlain sighs. “As your Majesty wishes.”

“Is there some other objection to this Maya?” I ask.

“Majesty, there are many beautiful and charming princesses,” he says quickly and glances at Matthew. “Many of whom could love you dearly.”

I see. He thinks for me to cast off Matthew in favour of some foreign princess, and Matthew counters with a devotee of Sappho. This is Kingship is it, to be the tennis ball in the match?

“We have our birthday coming soon,” I say. “Invite which of these pretty princesses you will to our celebration and also this Maya.”

“Your Majesty will make a choice?”

“Do not question us, we have spoken clearly already,” I say firmly.



After meetings, briefings, and other necessaries, I finally claw some time to ride a little. Matthew rides next to me with the guards around us in a semi-circle some thirty feet away. Near enough to protect but not enough to overhear ,unless one of us is entirely indiscreet.

“Why do you leave my bed in the mornings?”

“I can hardly be found there,” he says mildly.

“We are doing nothing wrong,” I object. “We are breaking no law, breaching no custom; and my grandfather had a harem of three hundred of the most attractive young men of the country!”

He purses his lips. “Might I speak plainly?”

“Always.”

“It makes no odds that we are doing nothing forbidden,” he says shortly. “You are the king; the law would not be the issue whether it was legal or not.”

“What is the issue then?” I prompt.

Matthew plays with the reins and blows out his cheeks. “Majesty, it is not so long since your father’s death. Such things make men of ambition thoughtful. What the people want is stability, dependability, and continuity. Those things are best served by a confirmed succession.”

“Yes, yes I know this,” I complain. “It is in hand.”

“But it is not complete,” he says sharply. “You will not be safe until you have an heir.”

Ah, this once more. I think he will not rest until he has me locked in a tower somewhere.

I reach across and take a hold of the reins of his horse, pulling us both to a halt.

“Matthew, there is no ‘safe’, only shades of more or less safety,” I say quietly.

He shakes his head, his face tight with anger. “By flaunting your lack of in interest in marriage you expose yourself to all manner of plots. You ought to take more care of yourself.”

How long has this been building? I do not believe that such anger has come from this moment.

“I am not deserving of such censure. I am entirely willing to take a wife and do my duty for an heir,” I say sharply. “You let your anxiety for my care carry you too far.”

“The country is still suffering from its wounds,” he says stubbornly. “You must be above suspicion.”

“Of what? What have I done?”

He grinds his teeth. “Taken a slave for a pet. You expose yourself to ridicule.”

Dear god, what has been said to him? He tears his arm away when I reach for it. “Who ridicules you?”

“May we return to the palace?”

I let go of his reins and climb off my horse. Immediately Matthew and all the guards climb down, as I knew they must. No man may be higher than the king may. No free man at least, palace slaves have certain license for serving.

I hand my horse and Matthew’s off to the Captain of the guard.

“Walk with me?” I ask Matthew.

“As you like.”

His whole body is tight and rigid with tension. I never saw a back as straight or stiff before.

“I wish you would talk to me.”

“What do you want to talk about?” he asks sounding confused.

“I don’t wish to talk, I wish to listen.” I touch his hand but he pulls away. “If you don’t tell me how you are abused then how am I to correct the affronts?”

Matthew looks so earnestly confused that I wonder if I have misspoken. “I thought we were speaking as lovers, not king and subject.”

“We are,” I promise. “As your lover I wish to make you happy.”

He lets me take his hand now.

“You do,” he says quietly. “Very happy.”

I think if he had his way I would never know how he felt or wished. “If you are so happy then why are you so angry?”

“I am of an ill temper generally,” he says with a shrug. “It is my nature.”

“I will have you talk to me,” I say gently.

He looks at me warily. “Are we not talking?”

“I am, and a right battle you make it,” I say.

Matthew looks up at the sky. “It is getting late. We should return.”

“This is a pause only, not a defeat,” I say lightly.

He smiles and squeezes my hand gently.



It has been a long time since I have visited the women’s quarters and I have to sneak away when Matthew is dressing. Such of my father’s concubines who chose to stay are still here, the others returned home with a dowry from the treasury, along with most of my mother’s former ladies. The concubines giggle and fawn when I walk in but it is all show, they have no expectation of being taken to my bed.

Hmm, an unpleasant thought when they were my father’s concubines.

The ladies of the court are older and entirely gracious. It is a little disconcerting to be surrounded by so many who knew me as a babe but little since.

Lady Abha is most senior of the ladies and I have some very slight recollection of her. She smiles at me with warmth that makes me hopeful she has pleasant memories of me.

“It is very nice to see you, Majesty,” she says, curtseying low.

“I hope that I have not put you out too much by visiting unannounced?” I say sitting down. She looks amused and shakes her head.

“Not all Majesty, it is a great honour,” she says as she sits.

“Ah, I am still learning,” I say, rubbing my head. “Please be tolerant of my stumbles.”

“Perhaps some refreshment?” she suggests.

“Oh, uh, a little wine would be very welcome, thank you.”

“How may I aid your Majesty?” she asks as a slave fetches us wine. “I fear I am a little past my prime to be a mistress or concubine,” she teases.

“I fear I am not worth you,” I reply. “I believe that you tended to my mother during her confinement?”

“Oh, yes. I was lady to the queen both before and after. She was very gracious, kind and beautiful,” Abha says quietly. “It was a tragic day when she died.”

“I remember very little of her,” I admit. “Matthew remembers more...”

His name makes her smile again, an automatic, genuine smile of affection.

“You remember Matthew then?”

She laughs and nods. “Who could forget our little pet? I have no doubt that he is a giant of a man now.”

“He was always of that build then? I remember him always towering over me but then I should.”

She takes a sip of her wine. “He was built to a bigger scale and pale as milk,” she says. “But he always had such a beautiful temperament and such an affectionate heart.”

“What was he like as a child?” It feels rather wicked to ask, as though I were breaking a trust.

“Placid always on his own account but oh so protective of those he cared about.” Abha laughs a little. “I remember once when you were a baby the doctor slapped you to test your lungs. Matt stamped on the doctor’s foot, grabbed you from his arms, and took off with you!”

“No!”

“Oh but it was a terrible scandal!” she laughs. “We were all in chaos trying to catch him.”

“He would not have hurt me,” I say firmly.

“He would have died rather than harm a hair on your head,” Abha says quietly. “No, there was never any fear of that from anyone who knew him.” She plays with her glass. “The queen was very fond of him, we all were. Even Lady Mira though she always showed it in her own way. She is not here at present but that is probably for the best, or so Matt would believe.”

“Why do you say that?” I ask eagerly.

“She always saw him more clearly than we did,” Abha explains. “He always saw her more clearly. Too similar in ways I think. Of course you know it was she that chose him for your slave?”

“No, I did not know that. Saw him clearly in what way?”

“We thought him an honest, straightforward boy open in all ways,” she says. “Mira was the one who noticed the way he buried his unhappy feelings.”

“He still does bury his feelings,” I say wryly.

“He was always devoted to you, never leaving your side,” she says, leaving the question unasked.

“I had to sneak out!”

She looks away as she tries not to laugh. “He was always very protective of those he cared about. Lady Mira’s husband... well, that’s another matter. I was glad never to have had a cruel or faithless lover.”

“Would he have defended you?”

“Whether I wanted it or not,” she says wryly. “A child of deep feelings.” She looks at me. “Majesty, why are you here?”

“Though he will not admit it, I fear Matthew is not happy,” I admit.

“Of course not,” she says briskly and I gape at her. “He is set in his ways, Majesty, as we all are. To go from slave to lord is a terrifying rise. He has been a slave since birth.”

“His slaves send him out in the most terrible state,” I say quietly.

“Resentment is an awful thing.”



Now that I am watching for it, I see the way that Matthew is treated at dinner. The servants bump his chair, the lords ignore him, and with every affront, he seems to shrink a little.

When he said his elevation would have repercussions I thought he meant to me. Selfish, selfish fool. If I thought about how it would affect him at all, it was simply to assume he would be better off.

“Take a care,” I say sharply as the wine slave near sloshes it over Matthew. “The Duke may be kind enough to pardon such flagrant disrespect but we will not countenance it at our table.”

The table steward rushes over, obsequious and cringing, promising to have the slave beaten for the effrontery. Matthew flinches but says nothing.

“No,” I say firmly. “The Duke has been merciful with the bumbling of all of your staff. For his sake, we will be kind this one time. Your slaves may thank him for this clemency. We would not be so kind on our own account.”

He turns to Matthew and makes a grovelling apology before backing away.

“You will tell us now we ought not to have done that, we think?” I say to Matthew.

He stares at me horrified and ashen faced.

“Your Majesty I would never dream of saying such a thing!”

Oh dear god, everyone at the table is listening. When will I learn that I cannot simply speak my mind?

“You take our jest too seriously,” I force out a laugh and punch his arm. “We tease only.”

There is a smattering of laughter from around the table. Some of the court relaxes and some of them look disappointed. I wonder whose downfall they thought to effect, mine or Matthew’s?



“Never do that to me again!”

He is red-faced with anger, pacing around my chamber like an angered bear. I stay cross-legged on the bed and watch him. It is almost worth his anger to see some burst of emotion from him.

“Matthew...”

“Bad enough to humiliate me in front of the waiting staff. Then to accuse me of enough presumption to tell you your business in front of the entire court!” He pauses and stares at me. “Please, tell me what you meant to achieve?”

“I forget that we cannot be simply Matthew and Mohinder,” I say meekly. “Forgive me?”

“You will get me killed!” he snaps. “Or banished which would be as bad since I could not see you.”

Killed for what, not wanting to have wine spilled on him? Then we should all be executed. “Matthew that is a nonsense, why should my chastising a slave cause you harm? I ought not to have said anything about the matter further I concede.”

Matthew puts his head in his hands and drops down onto the bed. “How can you ‘forget’ what has always been?” He looks at me. “We have never been simply Matthew and Mohinder, we never will, we never can.” He takes my hand. “Do you remember your histories? Do you know what has happened to royal favourites?”

“Lady Madhu was as loved as Queen Sahana,” I say mildly. “Lord Ishan was favourite until King Ranjeet died, at extreme age, and then lived happily until he did the same.”

“Aye, two out of dozens. What of Duranjaya who was murdered by jealous nobles, or Tarang who was executed for treason? What about Lady Menaka eh?”

“Matthew, I am not about to strangle you for infidelity!” I retort.

“To the point, she was killed by the king after her enemies tricked him into thinking she was untrue,” Matthew argues. “To be favourite is to be mistrusted and hated by nobles. I beg you not to give them more cause to want me gone.”

He is right, of course. Again, I am a fool not to have seen it.

“I will restrain myself in future,” I promise. “I’m sorry. I do not think you understand though how it is to see you miserable and mistreated.”

He laughs a little. “Indeed, how would I know what it is like to love and be unable to offer succour?”

“You do not know,” I say sharply.

“Certainly I do,” he retorts. “Every time you were hurt or upset I...”

“You merely had to stand and wait for me to turn to you,” I interrupt him. I will not have it that I am less open than he is. I will not. “I have always looked to you, always been completely open and honest. There was no pain, no injury, that you did not know of and that I did not look to you for the relief. But you!”

He is looking ashamed now but I will not be put from my purpose.

“You would tell me nothing of your feelings, nothing of your pain, and you absolutely will not allow me to offer you relief. Why am I shut out so, Matthew? Am I such a monster that I cannot be trusted to see you vulnerable? Am I perhaps such a useless child that I must be protected from your distress?” I am on my feet now, stalking to and fro in front of the bed. “It is no unreasonable thing I am asking for. No, not asking, insisting upon. As your bed mate, I will not be kept so entirely in the dark, Matthew. I will not.”

“Why should you wish to hear my petty problems?” he asks quietly. “There is nothing special to them, nothing exciting. There is no secret excitement that you are being denied.”

“Get out! Get out!” I hurl the pillow at him but he catches it. “Get out! I will not lie with someone who thinks I care about them only for the vicarious pleasure it might afford.”

“That... forgive me, it was not what I meant.”

“It is what you said! Perhaps it is more honest than you meant!” I snarl. “Dear god, when I think you are the one person who knows me best in the world and you think such a thing!”

“No, I do not...”

As I lunge at him, there is a blur of movement and I am held down on the bed.

“Let me go! Let me go damn you!”

“Mohinder, please, lower your voice, before the guards break in,” he says softly.

We are both out of breath but I am the one panting and crying.

“I want to give you what you give me. I want to make you feel the way you make me feel.”

He kisses me softly. “You and I are different people. You have such an open heart.”

“Too open?”

“At times,” he says honestly.

I roll onto my side and he lies down next to me.

“I feel as if I am making love to a stranger,” I say. “You keep me at arm’s length.”

“That’s not true, I would do anything in the world for you,” Matthew whispers, looking into my eyes.

“Anything but open up to me.”

He shakes his head. “You take it too much as a personal slight. I do not tell you any less than anyone else.”

I take his hand. “You do not tell me any more than you tell anyone else, that is the issue. I know you think I am too open but think, am I as open with everyone as I am with you?”

He hesitates before answering. “I had not thought on it.” His face softens. “No, I suppose not.” Matthew slides his hand along my bare leg. “Ask me anything. I will keep nothing secret.”

“Now there’s an offer!”

“Well I don’t know what you want to hear me say,” he protests. “It seems exciting and mysterious only because you don’t know. I am no more exciting or mysterious than... your table steward.”

“I doubt that!” I laugh. “I want to know everything. But to begin with the most pressing, why do the slaves treat you so when you are an ex-slave?”

“Exactly for that reason,” Matthew says quietly. “Worse than just any slave jumped up above his station, I grew up here. These slaves knew me. Many of them knew me when I was a child. I’m no better than they are; how dare I act otherwise?”

“They will come around,” I promise. “It is a matter of time only.”

He pulls me closer and wraps his arm around my waist.

“The rest of the court concerns me more; that and your marriage.”

“You think this Princess Maya would be a safe match?” I ask. “Is she very ugly?” I waggle my eyebrows.

He laughs and shakes his head. “No, quite fair I believe.”

“The Chamberlain seemed quite resolutely against her,” I point out.

Matthew snorts. “Ah well, the Princess has a favourite of her own.”

“A female?”

“Indeed, and worse, one who will not be cowed. The Princess is of a mild nature easily manipulated by courtiers, her lady is not.” Matthew kisses my neck. It is such a pleasant thing. “You are proving more difficult to control than the Chamberlain anticipated. The arrival of a queen with a favourite who knows her mind fills him with dread.”

“Should I dread it?” I murmur as he moves down my body.

“There is no sign either is untrustworthy, merely self determined.”

Matthew pushes me onto my back and applies his mouth.

“A fortunate woman this Maya,” I say closing my eyes. “It is an auspicious thing to have a favourite so firm.”



Aha! This morning I wake as he is opening the concealed door between our quarters.

“Got you!” I leap onto his back and clap my hands over his eyes. “No escape!”

“Mohinder get off!” he laughs, turning around and around.

“Never!”

“Lunatic!” he laughs, one hand tugging at my hands. “Do you mean to ride me all day?”

“Oh but I could!”

His stumbling gait has brought us to the bed and he sits down.

“Now I have you!” he growls. He tugs at my legs as I tighten them around his waist.

“I think it is I that has you,” I whisper into his ear.

He throws himself backwards suddenly, crushing me to the bed. The air knocked out of me I lose my grip. He turns around and launches himself at me. His stubble scratches gloriously as he pins me down and bites my stomach.

“I knew I would be completely unmanned once you became experienced,” I say licking my lips. “Once more I am at your mercy completely.”

“When I leap on you then you can pin me down,” he says, scowling playfully at me.

“Mmm, when will you leap on me then?” I suggest.

“When you least expect it.”

“But I shall be ever expecting it now,” I giggle.

He licks up my length and... ohh...

“We will see,” he murmurs.

“I love you.”

He looks surprised and moves up the bed. He kisses me softly and takes my hand.

“I do,” I promise.

“I know,” he says quietly. “I love you.”

“Oh, I always knew that,” I say.


The End 

On to Stolen Time