Squiring for Gaius, Marcus struggles with his new position

Marcus shifted uncertainly, his hands fiddling with the hem of the light-blue tunic he was wearing. The garment wasn't one of his, it was far too plain and uncomfortable to have come from his own extensive collection of clothes. Gaius had told him to put it on a few minutes ago, not long after he'd finished meekly sucking the older man's thick cock. He guessed his uncle must have had it brought from somewhere last night for him to wear, not that it was important anyway. After hurriedly getting dressed, he'd helped Gaius back into his armour and cloak just like a good squire should, following every firm command he was given with the same frantic eagerness to please that had him jumping at the older man's every order since everything had gone so wrong last night. None of this felt right, he knew he shouldn't be serving Gaius without a peep of protest, but standing up to his uncle just felt more and more impossible. It wasn't even fear that kept him so obedient...he knew he could muster the courage to struggle and fight back even if it meant being thrown into the dungeons with his parents. Instead, this meek submission just felt so right he found himself obeying before he could even think otherwise.

“Here...” Gaius held out something, pressing it into his nephew's hand. “A squire should have some weapon at least." Marcus froze, staring at the sheathed dagger resting on his palm. "Go on, just fasten it to your belt." The older man urged. Again, the young prince found himself just doing what Gaius wanted, awkwardly tying the dagger's sheath to his belt and letting it hang over his hip. Just the slight weight of it felt wrong. Even though he was a prince and the son of a brave warrior, Marcus had never been at all comfortable with weapons. He'd always skipped out on all the swordsmanship lessons his Father had tried to arrange for him, and hid in his room until the King had given up on trying. Just the thought of having something made to kill and hurt so close at hand now made his heart pound and his stomach twist with nervous worry. Did Gaius want him...to fight? To...use this to stab someone?

"Uncle...I don't think I..." The young prince began, his gaze flickering uncertainly up to his uncle's handsome face.

"Don't look so worried, I'm not expecting you to use it." The older man chuckled, reaching up to ruffle his silver hair. Despite everything, Marcus leaned up into his uncle's palm, enjoying the way that big, warm hand settled so comfortingly over his forehead. It felt...really good, the way Gaius had somehow seen through to his secret worries and tried to soothe him. "We both know you couldn't do any good with a weapon right now. That's not the sort of boy you are, but...appearances are important. We can't make it too obvious what your real role as my squire is. So you're going to carry that with you while you're by my side today, okay?"

"Yes, uncle." Marcus nodded hurriedly He'd felt a tingling thrill inside him at the news that he'd be accompanying his handsome uncle. Despite everything, it seemed he didn't want Gaius to leave him all alone here.

"Good." His uncle nodded, patting the young prince's head one last time. "Make sure you remember that, Marcus. Outside this room, you're just my squire." He turned away, leaning over the shelf to lift his own sheathed longsword from where he'd left it last night, the same weapon he'd used to cut off the King's hand during that horrible duel. Marcus shivered at the memory, and the way it brought cold reality crashing back down over that moment where he'd almost been happy to have his uncle pat his head. Was his Father okay? Gaius had promised to send surgeons to help him but...the wound had been so awful. What if...the King got sick because of it? "Come, follow me, nephew." Gaius ordered sharply, suddenly stern. Then he turned and strode towards the door, his scarlet cloak flowing over his broad shoulders.

Marcus followed a few steps behind his uncle, once again slipping so naturally into the submissive position despite his worries. This was his proper place, Gaius had told him with such firm confidence. A boy like him was meant to obey and serve real men, or rather one man in particular. It wasn't right, he tried to tell himself, he was a prince, he was supposed to rule this kingdom not kneel at the feet of the man who meant to steal it from him, but even in his own head those uncertain arguments faded to nothing in the face of his meek obedience to every order his uncle gave him. Maybe...Gaius was right about him. He'd gotten so excited while sucking cock, hadn't he? The thought made him shiver, heat flooding to his blushing cheeks and shame churning in his stomach. Even if it all was true, if he was the kind of boy who enjoyed these things, he just wished he didn't have to find out this way. If only Gaius hadn't fallen out with his parents so terribly...if only his uncle could still be his kind, handsome hero rather than the brutal usurper who'd injured his Father. Then maybe giving in to his desires wouldn't feel quite so...awful and confusing.

Marcus darted forward, trying to keep up as Gaius stepped down the corridor, moving purposefully through the castle that should by all rights belong to his brother. There were two soldiers waiting at the door ahead, their hands resting on the hilts of the swords at their belts. As Marcus and his uncle approached, the pair straightened and saluted neatly. The young prince shrank back nervously, hiding behind Gaius. These were the men who'd betrayed their rightful king for his uncle...broken the oaths they'd sworn to serve the crown. It frightened him to think what they might do...

"Morning, Decius, Castus." Gaius paused in front of the soldiers and gave each man a nod. "Any trouble during the night?"

"Nothing, sir." The man on the right replied. "As you ordered, the castle guards who surrendered have been quartered in the Great Hall under watch. None offered any resistance once we disarmed them and made it clear they wouldn't be hurt, just as you predicted." Listening from behind his uncle, Marcus felt his heart sink. All these guards who were supposed to defend the castle and protect his Father...and they'd just given up!

"Good." Gaius smiled triumphantly. "I'll address them later, make it clear that those who swear their loyalty to me and serve with honor and courage shall be well rewarded. In my new kingdom, you brave fighting men will be valued as you deserve."

"Thank you sir." Both men saluted again, their eyes lighting up. The second one waved his arm towards the door between them. "Captain Titus and the other officers await your pleasure, sir. He has a report on our progress securing the town."

"I'll speak to him now then." Gaius straightened, neatly returning the salute. "Come, Marcus." With that gruff command to his nephew, he stepped for the door, shoving it open with an arm. The young prince moved to follow his uncle, shuffling reluctantly between the two armored soldiers. The one on the right was staring at him thoughtfully, he noticed with a nervous shiver. The man...was quite young, and really quite handsome, but even when he offered Marcus a dazzling smile that seemed rather sympathetic, his dark eyes lingered on the prince's body in a way that made his belly flutter nervously. Biting his lip, he hurried through the door, wanting to stick close to his uncle where he felt much safer. Gaius wouldn't let anything happen to him...he was sure of that somehow.

Marcus hurried into the next room, only to freeze in place as he was faced with even more armored soldiers, gathered round a wooden table with papers spread across the surface. As Gaius approached, they rose and offered their own respectful salutes to their commander. The young prince watched anxiously from the doorway as his uncle greeted each man in turn by name and asked after their health and families and getting eager and enthusiastic answers in turn. His tone was friendly and genuine, his body relaxed beneath his armor the way it had never been at any courtly functions Marcus had seen him attend. It was so very different to how the young prince's Father had always been around his guards, sober and commanding, expecting the obedience he saw as his due. Gaius, by contrast, seemed...to genuinely like and value each of his soldiers. Was that why they'd agreed to turn on their rightful ruler for him? Was that all it took?

"Captain Titus." Gaius turned at last towards an older, bearded man who held a plumed helmet under one arm. "You had a report for me?"

"Yes, Lord Protector." The soldier nodded. "As you ordered, our scouts are stationed at strategic vantage points surrounding the castle and town, covering every approach. They've been directed to report here if there's any sign of an approaching hostile ****, but so far we seem to have the area secure."

"Excellent." Gaius replied. "It can't hurt to be prepared for anything so keep the scouts at their stations for now, but I don't expect that to change any time soon. The great nobles won't stick their necks out for Castor anytime soon. They'll see my takeover as a chance to demand concessions and grab even more power for themselves, and I'll even be generous enough to let them believe that's possible for a time. By the time they realize I command the largest **** of veteran soldiers in this Kingdom, along with the stocks of grain and royal treasury to support them in the field, I'll have them all in a vice." The soldiers around him grinned and clenched their fists, clearly happy with their commander's plans, like his success was theirs. "Now, is the town secured? I'd rather not have to suppress another peasant revolt today of all days."

"Yes sir, I believe it is..." A second soldier laid out a piece of parchment on the table, a quill in his hand as he marked out positions where Gaius' guards had been stationed and explained what was happening in the town. Standing awkwardly by the door, Marcus could only wait silently as his uncle gave orders and commanded men. The young prince just didn't know what he was supposed to be doing...or why Gaius had brought him here at all. His uncle hadn't even looked at him once since he'd started talking to those soldiers, acting like he didn't even exist. It was a shock just how much he missed the handsome older man's attention, a dull ache inside his chest as he stared longingly at Gaius' broad back and got nothing in return. He just wanted his uncle to turn and look at him, even for a moment to check he was okay...but Gaius was just too busy with those stupid soldiers.

"Marcus." Suddenly Gaius barked his name, and the young prince straightened, an eager smile flickering across his face before he could even think to stop it. "These men need water. Fetch them each a cup from that jug in the corner." Marcus froze in place, hardly able to believe what he'd just heard after all his patient waiting. That was all? A single order snapped at him like he was a disobedient dog? And Gaius still hadn't even looked at him! The young prince frowned at the floor. Why was Gaius treating him like this? He couldn't think of anything he'd done wrong to deserve being barked at. And now his uncle had just gone back to his stupid maps, expecting to be instantly obeyed without even checking!

Well...the young prince decided, turning up his nose, he'd show his uncle! He'd bring water to everyone just like he'd been told to, everyone but Gaius! That'd make his uncle see how rude he was being! Darting over to the table in the corner, Marcus saw the clay jug waiting there, with a tray and some cups beside it. He carefully poured out some water into each one and laid them out on the tray, but ignored the last, leaving it empty on the table.

Then, with the tray carefully balanced in his hands, Marcus stepped back towards the group of soldiers. Despite his nervousness around them, the urge to get back at his mean uncle gave him the courage to move around the table and hold the tray up to each armored man in turn. Some of the soldiers murmured their thanks before turning back to their work, others gave him long, lingering looks that made him want to run away and hide, but he pushed himself on anyway, until at last every single man had a cup they could drink from...everyone but Gaius himself. The young prince lowered the tray, waiting eagerly for the moment his uncle realized he'd been left out. Would he be mad? That'd show him not to be so rude!

Minutes passed, with Gaius still staring at his maps and giving orders to his men. He spoke to all the soldiers, friendly and relaxed as he'd been from the start with them, hearing their reports, telling them what to do, but...he still didn't look at his nephew. Why? Had he just not noticed the water yet? Marcus shuffled closer, the empty tray in his hands, trying to make it more obvious.

"Go stand in the corner when you're not needed, Marcus." Gaius snapped suddenly, raising his head to fix his nephew with a cool glare. "This is no place for a squire." Then he just leaned back over his maps and went back to talking to his soldiers. Marcus stood silently for a moment, a cold pain in his chest. What...? Again? What was going on? Why was his uncle being so awful all of a sudden? Tears stinging his eyes, the young prince turned and shuffled back to the corner of the room like he'd been told. He didn't understand. Gaius treated him...kind of nicely one moment, and now it was like he didn't care at all! If he'd just been mean the whole time it would have made a lot more sense than this. And it definitely wouldn't have hurt so much to be snapped at! Marcus sniffled softly, leaning back against the wall. Why did he even care so much? Why was he being so stupid about this? Gaius...had hurt his Father and wanted to take his throne! Why did he keep forgetting that? Why did he just want his brave uncle to take him in those big strong arms and hug him tight?