Gorthorn: Chapter 6: Reality Shift
Rome recorded the underground imprisonment of the Titans, ascended humans of great strength. History has repeated itself, except that we are humble monsters-minotaurs, griffins, and elemental beings, and so many more- and our conquerors mere humans instead of the ascended human gods like Zeus, who have long since disappeared. Our civilization was not great enough to stand against humans, and has slipped from collective memory as well. We have followed the technological advances of the surface as best we can, and we look towards the day when we will be able to escape and reassert our place.
"Who am I to refuse a king's request anyway?" the spider whispered.
Gorthorn stiffened. Did the spider think he was obligated to-
His entire world shifted on its axis.
"Don't you want this?" he checked.
The doctor's eyes darted up to him, and away again.
That was too much for Gorthorn. He backed away and felt more than a little sick. He scrambled through his memories. Where had he ever given the impression that this was obligatory? Had it been this way since the beginning? Had those shivers not been from pleasure, but fear or discomfort? His mouth would not work, and he barely had the will to ask the parsing question in the first place or know the answer.
"No, no, no, no." He put his hands to his head. "That's not what's going on at all. I didn't mean to- Wing-"
Spiders thought of themselves as expendable. How could you not when your smaller cousins were crushed under heels, and speaking against another monster, or scaring them too much with your 'creepy' movements, could get you attacked?
He had already disliked imagining what Wing would go through on a mere whim from him. That they were not at war anymore, and could not be, was a blessing in that respect. This was just making that more immediate. Their friendship had, in a certain way of looking at it, 'saved' his clan, by binding them to his kingdom more tightly, though it meant having them trapped here. Gorthorn's people were used to having more free rein. It chafed them to be here. But here, spiders could flourish and settle. Spiders had fled and scattered at onslaughts, creating mosaics of families that hid at the whiff of any trouble. They were used to dark, whether cave or cover of night. He suspected they might even find it comforting, away from diurnal humans. Their allies the bats helped them wherever possible. Wing's own family had invented webs and baskets that caught the breeze, carrying them away from battles if there were no aerial projectiles involved. They called them "golden orbs," a reference to patterned golden orb spiders, even though they are not the itty bitty species that fly with strands of webs.
He had influenced the peaceful spider. He had shown him the necessity of war, and ruthlessness on the homefront, too. Was he going to continue to corrupt him? No, he shouldn't.
The spider was flushed even deeper now, and he hugged himself self-consciously with his last two set of arms while anxiously rubbing his neck with the others.
After a few minutes of thought, but no change in body language, he said, "But. Sire, say I wanted to do this for you, would that be a bad reason?"
"Yessssssss," the part-dragon hissed immediately, puffing up in outrage at the ridiculousness of the question. "Good gracious, man, hero-worship is one thing, but this?"
A part of him whispered that if the man was willing, even if not fully, then why not? The taste of him lingered on his tongue and his mind supplied pictures of prying open all of those arms.
He had pursued a few others for one night stands when he was in the mood, knowing full well that they were submitting because of his position. Why not the spider?
Yet another part of him was questioning why he'd never had such recoiling thoughts about his previous conquests. It was just- picturing the young boy he had met- even- yes, he admitted it himself, bullied at different points- he couldn't cement his humiliation here. He just couldn't.
Or . . . or was it possibly because he was a man? His breath caught. He'd thought he'd grown out of his boyhood foolishness in regarding women as lesser. Heck, the current general of his army was a woman. But in the bedroom, maybe-
He hadn't tried to wield his authority over his wife when she decided to leave, even though many might have expected that of the king. But then, she was higher status than the others.
He'd always been a giving and attentive lover to anyone, no matter what the circumstances- he directed the thoughts towards the welling of guilt in his gut. It continued to grow, heedless to his pleas.
He hadn't threatened anyone, only cajoled. He wasn't all that terrible-
Seeing the ordinarily prim man so exposed and nervous, the justifications were ringing hollow. If he had cared about any of them as people as much as he did Wing-
Surely he would've arrived at this conclusion on his own. Surely it didn't take nearly dominating the doctor without real, solid agreement to realize this had all been stepping over a line, even if he had thought of it as a king's indulgence. Right? His face heated, and he was thankful his fur hid it, unlike the smaller man.
Words were not forthcoming. "Please just go," he said faintly. He had a lot to sort through, and didn't want to look at the spider.
"As you wish." Wing said, head bowed.
The conciliatory gesture dug the knife in deeper.
He really would do anything for him, his mind marveled, his stomach turned over at the thought of the man simply enduring for his sake, and another part of him champed at the bit, as if asking why in the world they were not all in agreement.
The spider put his shirt back on, long fingers adjusting his many cuffs absently. "I understand. I do. You don't want someone who's not mutually . . ."
No, he thought in a defeated tone, I don't want you if you're not . . . Just you. Apparently. Shame and disgust bit into him afresh. What would the doctor think of his actions? The predator had plenty of intimidation factor to keep people silent. Just because he didn't use force to get what he wanted didn't mean he wouldn't guard his reputation afterwards.
Spiders were very traditional-minded. He'd probably be aghast.
If the king couldn't even bring himself to do that, what right did he have to even think about touching the spider?
The doctor said, "Sorry . . . sorry . . . sorry . . . "
He was apologizing? Feeling perplexed was becoming quite a familiar sensation to Gorthorn.
The spider had finished putting on his jacket, and this time he bowed fully. "I'm very, very sorry I misled you."
The king briefly considered that, then waved it away mentally. At least he knew why the spider seemed to think he was at fault, here, backwards though it was.
He did glance back at him one more time before he left, and dash it all if Gorthorn's now stoked hunger for him didn't flare in response.
But, this was not the way. Much as he'd like to kiss away any objections or sway him- reassure him it would be worth his while- he would also have to choke back the downward spiral of misgivings.