Cadaren rolled onto his side, frustration boiling up inside of him. Thoughts whirled around his head forcing sleep away. Fraen's snores hardly helped the situation either. The word 'idiot' featured prominently in every sentence that his brain tossed into his consciousness.

Why did he ever agree to join a revolution he knew nothing about? If it even was real, why did Fraen and Skrila so readily trust him? What part was he to play in what would unfold? And why, oh why, did he always rush into decisions?!

Chuffing softly under his breath, Cadaren opened his eyes, releasing any hope of sleep. The pale light of the early morn forced his eyes to adjust as he blinked them blearily. He placed his forehead against the cool emerald wall. Questions swirled beneath his skull buzzing like a hive. They stung him repeatedly with sentiments of guilt and shame. He felt stupid and worthless, an ideal candidate to vanish down some hole somewhere.

Cadaren pulled the duvet over his head trying to block out or hide from the torrent of negative emotions. He curled himself into a ball. A solitary tear trickled down his cheek.

Pictures of his family floated through his mind; the smell of fresh bread that would surround him when his mother hugged him. The mountains too he longed for, their familiar peaks framing the horizon in every direction. Now, his horizon consisted of the palace walls. The building itself seemed to reach out to suffocate him in its grasp.

His furs at home had enveloped him in a warm darkness. The quilt only provided a cold barrier from the frigid gloom of the foreign room. It did soften Fraen's snores somewhat, however, which was something to be grateful for. Somehow, he could not bring himself to feel thankful for anything. A sob wracked Cadaren's body as he tried to muffle it with the quilt.

He had expected a flood of tears to follow but instead, he felt calm. The answers he had been looking for he knew as if he had always known them. In truth, he really had always known. He simply needed to listen to his conscience and not his emotions.

Cadaren had believed that it had been anger that had caused him to join the revolution so hastily. The sentiment had contributed but sorrow, fear, and loss had played a role. All those feelings melted together to form a flint determination to no longer be subject to unhappiness even if that meant stepping way beyond his comfort zone.

As for why Fraen had recruited him, that was her problem. He could not do anything about it and decided not to wallow in it anymore.

Easier thought than done. As soon as he rolled over, the questions began to bombard him again. Every time he would subconsciously round on himself, he pushed the provoking thought away with a memory: smelting iron for the first time, Pa's kind eyes, Ma's smile. The mental game exhausted him but eventually, he won and drifted off to sleep...

...only to be woken five minutes later by Fraen shaking him vigorously.

"Whatdfgfjhkl?"  he asked, yawning through his garbled words

"What?" demanded Fraen, glaring at him impatiently

"That's what I asked!" Cadaren managed to articulate exasperatedly.

"Ye realize it's six o'clock in the morning, right? I let ye sleep in! I'm goin' to take His Majesty his morning dose of bourbon. Meanwhile, yer to inquire what the new captain of the guard would like. 'E old one preferred to only consume whiskey," sighed Fraen looking disgusted.

She grabbed ahold of his arms and began to drag Cadaren out of bed. Cadaren resisted initially, attempting to burrow into the mattress, but soon gave up.

"Alright, alright! Just give me time to get dressed, would you?" protested Cadaren. "Not all of us are already in uniform," he continued looking pointedly at Fraen.

"Fine... fine. Fine! But 'urry up!" ordered Fraen crossing her arms and tapping her foot on the emerald floor.

"Are you just going to watch?" enquired Cadaren, heat flushing his pale skin.

Fraen gave him a look. Cadaren coughed.

"Riiiight... You are not interested in male bodies..." 

He trailed off as Fraen nodded jerkily as if she did not want to waste time on a full nod.

"You know that fact doesn't make me any less uncomfortable right? Could you at least turn around?" Cadaren pleaded.

Fraen huffed but conceded to turn her back. Cadaren changed quickly out of his nightshirt into the black tunic and leggings of his uniform. While still fumbling with the badge of his office as cupbearer, he followed Fraen out of the room.

She turned right down a long dark passageway made of the same obsidian as the front hall, yet it was narrower and had a lower ceiling. Simple torches lit the walls instead of the jewel scones of the passage to the throne room. She turned right again and descended two flights of stairs into a dim room filled with shelves.

As soon as Cadaren adjusted to the light, he realized that the shelves contained barrels of alcohol. Well, the exact contents he assumed.

"Ev'ry section 'as a label of what type of alcohol is contained within the barrels and what type of barrel and seasoning it 'as. 'E same types of alcohol are shelved on 'e same rack," Fraen explained, sounding bored. 'E fruitier beverages are to 'e front while those that are more sour or yeasty are towards the back. Ev'rthin' is in alphabet'cal order by subcategory."

"Do you know how to pour?" Fraen inquired sharply once she finished her explanation.

"I can fill a glass of water if that is what you mean," replied Cadaren.

He could not see how much harder being a cupbearer could be. Fraen sighed and shook her head.

"Pouring as a cupbearer 'tis a lot different. Ye must always pour on t'left side of the person that yer serving from a clean tumbler into their goblet," Fraen began.

"First, ye must hold 'e bottle under their nose to make sure 'tis what they wish to drink and that 'tis suitable. Second, ye steady and flatten yer arm, curling it at t'wrist lightly and gently tipping 'e bottle so that 'e beverage does not spill. Ye should pour from 'proximately half 'e bottles height above 'e goblet so that 'e person yer are serving may enjoy gazing at t'flow of the beverage into the goblet. 'Ere," Fraen ordered, thrusting a goblet and flask she had picked up from one of the shelves at Cadaren

The tumbler had been constructed of glass with a simple design and a wide gaping mouth. While the tumbler sparkled in the light, the goblet shone dully due to its simple curves of steel. Holding both, Cadaren realized that Fraen meant for him to practice pouring.

He took the goblet and set it down on the floor. Kneeling, he pretended to hold up the bottle for inspection to his invisible master. Then, he lifted the tumbler so it was halfway above the glass and tipped it so that the water which was inside flowed in one great shinning liquid chord into the goblet. Not a single droplet pockmarked the dusty flagstone floor. Fraen raised her eyebrows.

"So maybe there is a reason ye were chosen to be a cupbearer," she mused as Cadaren glowered. "Face it, yer a natural unlike me. It took a whole day of practicin' for me not to spill. These 'ere flasks are made for decoration, not practicality."

She sighed. "Well, I think yer ready. 'E captain's chambers are back the way we came second door on t'left. 'Tis a great oak-paneled one so ye should not be able to miss it. If ye do, well yer lost and I'll find ye eventually. 'Till I do, stay out of trouble," she hmphed, then added in a whisper: "I hope you do a good job with the captain. We need him on our side for the revolution."

Cadaren nodded picking up the goblet and flask, setting both back where Fraen had picked them up from. Once he looked up from doing, he found that Fraen had already left, presumably to take His Majesty his morning dose of intoxication.

Following Fraen's directions, Cadaren turned left, left again, and finally took the third left towards the oak-paneled door. He rapped on it twice with his knuckles before stepping back and to the side respectfully. No answer came from within, but the door had drifted open a crack. Cadaren took that as an invitation, pushed it open, and stepped inside.

His breath caught in his throat and Cadaren believed time froze for so much seemed to happen in seconds. A male dwarf only a few years older than him sat at a writing desk opposite the four-poster bed in the center of the room. He stood hurriedly, ink spilling onto his parchment as his chair screeched backwards. Long straight chestnut hair tumbled down his back as he stared at Cadaren with grey eyes.

For once, Cadaren did not resent the stare. He felt as if ants crawled over his heated skin for he could not tear his gaze away from the boy's chest. His muscled pecks and abdomen were crisscrossed by hundreds of white scars that stood out against his tan skin. Cadaren could see the larger ones stretch with the rise and fall of the boy's breathing. He forced himself to look up, into the dwarf's eyes.

His breath caught; the boy's face shone with beauty. High cheekbones framed a strong jaw while his nose tilted to one side, likely broken at an early age. And those soft eyes, they drew him in...

Cadaren dropped to his knees, head bent, remembering his manners too late. He tried to slow his breathing down to a normal rate. He had behaved foolishly in front of the new captain. He could probably expect a lashing after he finished serving him. He could not figure out what had come over him. He had never felt this before for a man. Only the shy girls with dark tresses ever attracted his attention.

With the movement of him kneeling, Cadaren found that time unfroze. The boy quickly donned the shirt that had hung over the back of his chair and beckoned Cadaren to rise, laughing.

"You don't have to kneel in front of me! My name is Var and I am only a servant who writes the captain's correspondence," he explained extending his hand.

Cadaren took it, standing and shaking it. He could feel the calluses on the other dwarf's hand, though it still felt soft like leather.

"Cadaren, my name is Cadaren. I am one of his majesty's cupbearers," Cadaren stated, stuttering a bit, "I came to inquire as to the preferred beverage of your master."

He then realized that he was still holding the boy's hand. He dropped it hurriedly, folding his hands behind his back. The boy looked at the floor, running the hand Cadaren had dropped through his hair. Cadaren noticed adorable freckles sprayed across the boy's nose. Adorable? Did he really just think that?!

The boy straightened but continued to look at the rag rug on the floor as he replied softly: "My master prefers red wine to any other beverage. I believe he would appreciate a bottle deposited outside his door tomorrow."

Cadaren bowed.

"It shall be done," he replied before backing out of the room.

He heard the door shut behind him. Breathing hard, he leaned against the wall and slid down it until he was sitting on the ground. He rested his head on his knees. Cadaren felt confused. He could not understand why he felt the way he did: as if a bird were throwing itself against the compartments of his heart. He missed his mother desperately. He could not talk to her or attempt to understand his feelings with her. He was alone.

Cadaren figured he might talk to Fraen, but his gut balked at the thought. No... I'll just forget this ever happened and hope I never see Var again. Deep inside of him, Cadaren knew he was lying.

Inside the room, he could hear the sound of someone flopping onto the bed. Cadaren scrambled from his seating position and speed-walked the way back to the cellar. Fraen sat on an upturned keg, waiting for him.

"So?" she inquired, leaning forward.

Cadaren sat cross-legged on the floor and related what had happened. He carefully omitted his feelings but he felt Fraen's eyes narrow on him every time he blushed saying Var's name. By the end of the account, Cadaren found himself yawning horribly.

"Ay, git wit ya!" ordered Fraen, "Yer not fit to serve and there's a banquet tonight wit both 'e King and 'e captain. Yer to pour for 'e captain so ye had best take a guid nap!"

Cadaren nodded fervently and yawned again. His feelings had settled down enough that exhaustion rolled over him like an extremely heavy boulder. Sleep could not have recommended itself to him any more than at that moment...

...

He woke up to Fraen shaking him. Again. Groaning, Cadaren rolled out of bed, figuring that this would be a regular occurrence and that he would soon have bruises.

"'ere," ordered Fraen, thrusting a bundle of crimson fabric at Cadaren.

Judging by the cape Fraen was wearing, Cadaren presumed that he was to wear an identical one. He pulled the cloak over his head so that two strips hung in front down to his waist, covered in black swirls of embroidery, while the back resembled a traditional cape cut short at the calves.

"Is it time already?" inquired Cadaren.

"Oh ye! Way over in fact! 'urry up!" Fraen tossed over her shoulder. "Also, don't forget to grab a bottle of red wine for 'e captain."

She winked before disappearing around the doorframe. Seconds later her head reappeared.

"Banquet 'all t'is the only set of double doors on the second floor. Ye can't miss it!"

And with that, she disappeared again.

Cadaren rushed to the cellar, making a wrong turn on the way, but finally managing to grab a bottle of red wine and dash up the stairs to the right of the giant gilded doors of the throne room. His footsteps sounded loud in his ears as the soles of his boots thudded repeatedly on the obsidian stairs.

At the top, he almost ran into the pair of double doors Fraen had told him about. She had not been kidding when she said he could not miss them. There were no other doors.

Two soldiers in ornate livery, metal plate forged to gleam red, stared at Cadaren where he stood doubled-over clutching the bottle of wine. Cadaren paid them no heed as he stared, transfixed, at the doors. They were forged of pure iron, twisted and tortured into hideous clawing shapes whose fangs were tipped with gold, silver, and precious jewels.

The materials might have been exquisite, but the composition made Cadaren want to throw up. As it was, he felt sick to his stomach.

A gong sounded within and Cadaren realized that it probably meant the dinner had already begun. He swallowed hard, worrying about what would happen next. A hand grabbed the back of his robes and dragged him backwards.

"Ye moron!" exclaimed Fraen. "Use 'e side door!"

She shoved him through a door that molded into the wall and closed it after both of them.

Cadaren found himself in a sort of couloir which curved in a crescent around the raised dais. Awnings scattered along the right side of the passage, one for every seat of the grand table. Scarlet cloth and rose petals covered the table while iron dishes heaped with food allowed steam to curl towards the ceiling which was formed by iron brambles intersecting and crisscrossing across the room. Beyond the dais, simpler ebony tables lined up in front of a giant fireplace that spanned the opposite wall. 

The scents of cinnamon, paprika, cumin, saffron, and grease made Cadaren's mouth water while the sheer number of guests and volume of the room made his head ache. He had never had a hangover, but somehow, he imagined this is what it would feel like.

The gong sounded again, a deep reverberating tone that hushed the room into a murmur of soft whispers. An old and enormously plump dwarf stood from the center of the table raising a goblet into the air. The layers of finery he wore caused Cadaren to wonder that he could stand at all. The gaudy gold crown he wore, encrusted with precious gems, on its own would have weighed a ton.

"Esteemed members of the court," King Darquen began in a thin reedy voice, "allow me to introduce the newest member to our consort: captain Varken. His presence on the battlefield under the previous captain made him the ideal candidate for the position. He is also a wise strategizer, young though experienced. Please welcome him to our modest dinner this evening."

Cadaren heard Fraen snort when the King mentioned 'modest dinner'. He concurred with her sentiment.

The King raised his glass and the room followed suit the flickering light of candelabras and fireplace glinting off the golden goblets. The double doors that were beyond Cadaren's vision open clanging against the walls. He could hear the sound of iron-shod boots clunking towards the dais.

To Cadaren's surprise, who had expected a burly man with a thick beard and grim face, the man who moved into his line of sight and sat next to the King on his right hand was none other than the self-professed servant Var. It dawned on Cadaren that Var served as a nickname for Varken.

The servant he had met that morning was none other than the new captain he was supposed to serve. Heat flushed his cheeks at the realization of how casually he had interacted with him. Part of him betrayed him and rejoiced at the knowledge that Cadaren would be seeing Var – no captain Varken, frequently.

Fraen shoved an elbow into his ribs

"What are ye doing?" demanded Fraen.  "Ye should be pouring for 'im right now. Git out there!"

Cadaren stumbled forward his eyes blinded temporarily by the brilliance of the room in comparison to the dark corridor. He trod forward nervously standing just behind Varken's left shoulder. He uncorked the bottle and silently passed it under Varken's nose who nodded in approval. He then poured the red wine into the captain's goblet.

Leaning forward in the guise of setting the bottle on the table, Cadaren whispered: "Sir, may I speak with you in private?"

Varken shoulders raised an inch but he said nothing, his face a mask devoid of emotion. He did not even look at Cadaren, his long hair serving as a curtain between the two of them. Cadaren took this as: "What the HELL do you think you are doing?" and retreated quickly back to the relative safety of the couloir.

Fraen did not seem to realize what he had done so Cadaren thought it best not to inform her. If the captain decided to have them tried for treason and impertinence, Fraen could claim innocence truthfully for this act. He shivered. He hoped it would not come to that.

The banquet itself passed in a blur of conversation, boisterous laughs, and murmured plots. It also contained frequent repetitions of Fraen shoving Cadaren to refill Varken's glass while she monitored the King's. Every time Cadaren exited to top up Var, the boy seemed to look the same. He was always gazing at the flames of the great fire, chin on his palm. He sipped his wine slowly and always tensed when Cadaren came to refill his goblet.

Cadaren could not keep his eyes off the young captain's back. His chestnut hair flowing over his midnight cloak and muscular frame seemed to draw his attention, whether Cadaren wanted to be drawn or not.

Finally, when most of the guests had filed out, Cadaren figured he would refill Varken's glass one last time. The captain did not stir this time when he approached. As Cadaren raised the bottle to pour, the captain extended an elegant long-fingered hand over the goblet.

"No more," he ordered coldly.

Cadaren could not hear a single trace of Var's previous humor and friendliness. He shrank back. Underneath the dais' table, Var rested a hand briefly on Cadaren's thigh before requesting him to remove the goblet.

The touch of Var's hand seemed to electrify Cadaren so that he teetered dazedly back to the alcove without once glazing at the goblet. He handed it to Fraen while he rested his forehead on the wall.

Nothing made sense. Why had Var lied to him? Why did he act so coldly then touch him on the... whatever. At least he was alive...

"Oi," Fraen poked him in the back, confirming yet again Cadaren's prophecy of his having bruises by the morrow, "Did ye see what 'e captain left in 'is goblet?"

She handed him the cup with a look of confusion and shock on her face. Within the goblet, a fragment of the captain's napkin lay crumpled. Cadaren removed it and smoothed it out. Letters had been cut roughly into the cream fabric. Cadaren's heart fluttered with nervousness and excitement as he read: "Write when and where and slip it under my door".

Author's Note: I know, I know... Nokkland was supposed to come next. I'm struggling with his section so I'm posting this one first and I'll post an announcement when Nokkland's section will actually be out. I'm sorry. The dragon is killing me XD