Thomas couldn't be sure how long he held her, the hush of the room broken only by the forlorn howl of the autumn winds and the low, small sounds of her sobbing. He let her cry until the well of her tears ran dry, his thumb grazing up and down her quivering body in wordless comfort. When it was over, he felt as deflated as she looked, all his passion dissipated into bone-deep weariness. He stared out across the room blankly, his eyes fixed on nothing.

When she finally spoke, her voice was hoarse from the strain of her tears.

"You should have told me."

He arched his head down, his hand shifting to draw her gently from his body where he could see her. Her face was swollen with crying, her hair mussed and wet around her cheeks. He couldn't help his fingers from reaching out tenderly to brush it away.

"You never gave me a choice...when you sent me away. It wasn't just your decision to make, Thomas."

He blinked twice, taken aback by her words.

"Fawn, I ..."

"You told me I was free, did you not? That I was your equal?" she craned her head back, peering up at him intently through wet lashes. "But then you took away my choice when it mattered most."

His mouth opened and closed, words momentarily failing him.

"Please, Fawn...that's not...I never meant..." he trailed off, the words weak beneath the weight of the truth.

"What choice did I have?" he pleaded, his gaze seeking hers. "I knew if I told you, you wouldn't have listened. You would have tried to sway me. Tell me I'm wrong. Deny it! You cannot..."

She turned her head from him, her jaw set and hardened. His finger lifted, gently angling her face so she was forced to look back at him.

"That night...when you first told me you loved me...it took every ounce of strength not to turn around right then and there and bare the depths of my soul to you...pledge my life to you..."

"But you didn't," she interrupted tremulously. "You left me without a word, without even a glance...you discarded me like - like some trinket that had outlived its use..." She faltered for a moment, her voice hardening when she spoke. "You were so cruel."

"I know, Fawn! Godammit, you think I don't know?"

He closed his eyes for a moment, his throat tightening painfully at the memory. She never saw how carefully he cradled her sleeping body, never heard the words of sorrow he uttered as he placed her in the carriage.

"That night haunts me. I relive it over and over, like some divine punishment."

He grit his teeth, emotion threatening to overflow.

"I wanted you to hate me Fawn. I wanted you to hate me as much as I hated myself. I was ashamed...of frightening you, of breaking your trust. And I thought...I thought that if I was kind to you, left you any trace of hope, you would have tried to follow...to find your way back to me."

Fawn chewed her cheek, an effort to subdue her tears. "You should have known me better, Thomas" she muttered. "You should have known I would come regardless."

He exhaled in a broken laugh, raising her up before his face as a sad smile touched his lips. "You're right." He whispered, his storm-cloud eyes heavy with feeling. He reached out a single finger and brushed it over her tear-stained cheek. "I should have known you better. You always were my brave little bird. Reckless? Yes. But brave. Honest. Challenging. That's why I fell in love with you."

Though she leaned her head against his finger, there was nothing but tired sadness in her face. The love he once yearned to confess to her now seemed to hang solemnly in the air between them, mocking them with the memory of what once was, the uncertainty of what was yet to come.

"Oh Fawn," he sighed wearily, "what am I going to do with you..."

Her little body tensed up immediately in his palm, and he could almost feel the low flutter of panic in her weary chest. Lifting her aching head, she peered up at him through swollen eyes.

"Please don't send me away from you again...I couldn't bear it, Thomas...I couldn't - "

Thomas' brow furrowed in pity, his chest clenching at her helplessness. He couldn't stand to see her so vulnerable, reduced to pleading before him.

She shifted nervously in his palm.

The sudden fluttering movement interrupted his thoughts and sent his enormous gaze sweeping down over her. It was in moments like these that he remembered how truly small she was...how completely at his mercy. His hand twitched, fingers closing in slowly around her, protectively, possessively...almost beyond his will. Soon the little thing was all but engulfed in his large grasp, his hold unyielding, yet infinitely gentle. His heart spiked as she whimpered softly.

"Shh, my little bird," he soothed. "Look at me." The command was soft, entreating. He tilted his head downward to catch her eye. "I'm not going to send you away. I'm not going to leave you."

Her voice quivered when she spoke. "But you said..."

"I know what I said earlier...I thought I was keeping you safe, doing the right thing by letting you go...but to tell you the truth" he confessed, turning his hand slightly as he studied her intently, "now that you're in my hands again, I don't think there is anything in this world or the next that could pry you from me.

"Besides," he looked away, "the situation has changed much since then."

She withered slightly under his words.

"Despite what you think, I didn't throw my life away on a whim," she countered. "I knew I would have a better chance than the others if I was taken. That if I could just get to you, you would show me mercy, set me free. It was the right thing to do, Thomas."

"Set you free...?" he interrupted, shaking his head hesitantly, "Fawn...I don't think you understand. There is no setting you free this time..."

At first, her brow only furrowed, as if trying to make sense of his words. But as a heavy silence stretched out between them, her face grew gradually pale, confusion morphing slowly into dread.

"Don't look at me like that, Fawn!" he implored. "You know the laws!" There are only three ways to escape bondage. Death, a noble marriage, or pardon from the King."

"So pardon me!" she cried desperately, her chest heaving with her laboured breaths. He could feel her tiny heart thrumming against his skin and his own panic rose.

"I cannot..." he choked.

"You've done it before!"

"I said I cannot!" He caught himself too late, his voice thundering across the room and causing Fawn to cower frightfully in his hand. He loosened his grip, his tone softer though no less urgent.

"Fawn, you know I would set you free in an instant if I could! But this is no longer just between just you and I!"

Her eyes grew wider, as if only just beginning to understand the implications of his words.

"Your name is on the lip of every soldier in this city, inscribed in royal ledgers of slaves and debts. For god's sake, Fawn, you are a fugitive of the crown! Your actions have incited riots against my rule!"

Her mouth opened and closed silently in terror.

"Tell me! What excuse could I possibly garner for the pardon of my known enemy? What excuse for setting you free? Do you understand me, Fawn? People have died for less than this!"

All at once, the passion that had seized him drained from his blood. Exhaling heavily, he sank down onto the bed, his hand opening up onto his lap. She hung her head, sinking to her knees in his palm.

"Tell me again," he uttered weakly, "is there anyone here who may know who you are? Anyone at all who could recognize you?"

Fawn's voice was bitter when she spoke. "That man in the throne room, Aldous Clarke? He was there when they first took me. He said...he said that once you were done using me, he would..." she trailed off as a small but discernible shudder ran through her; the vestige of another nameless horror. "He would know my face. Without a doubt."

Thomas had to make a concerted effort to master his fury, jaw clenching until he thought it may snap. The insect would beg for death before the end.

As if recollecting himself, he looked down toward the small girl in his open hands, his body softening almost instinctively at the sight of her. "You need not worry about him, Fawn. He will not set foot near you again." Then, gentler: "Is that it?"

She seemed to hesitate for a moment, small mouth parting slightly as if another name hovered on her lips. Instead, she turned her head from him.

"There is no one else."

Her hesitance sent a shiver of unease snaking through Thomas' gut. As his eyes flickered over her, he could feel an old doubt nagging at the edges of his mind. After all, she had never explained to him what happened that night, when she stumbled out of the blackberry grove as if she'd seen a ghost. He could not forget how he caught the faint sound of departing hooves...how he'd dismissed Garrick from the nearby summerhouse not 30 minutes earlier...

Immediately, he felt ashamed of his doubt in her. He pushed the thought roughly away.

"Then there is one saving grace in all this horror" he sighed. "Nobody knows who you are. We can hide you here in plain sight, right before their very eyes. They will be searching the capital endlessly for someone they will never find."

Fawn looked up at him questioningly. "But you told me I wouldn't be safe here...not as long as I was with you..."

He ground his teeth, unwilling to meet her eye.

"Thomas...?"

"You...you wouldn't be with me, Fawn," he confessed. "You would be working...as a servant in the castle."

She leaned away from him, hand scrambling for purchase as she shook her head in disbelief.

"No - no , listen to me, my love" he leaned over her, words tumbling out in an effort to subdue her rising panic. "I would find you a good post, something quiet...something simple. We would still see one another sometimes...in the halls, at the banquets...but...but you would be sheltered...you would be safe..."

"Sheltered? Safe?"

He fought down a wave of panic as her voice pitched unnaturally high in her distress.

"You could work in the gardens, Fawn...or tend to the stables. You could be with the animals!"

"Be with the animals? Thomas, I want to be with you!"

He dragged a large hand over his stubbled jaw, every fibre of his being at war with itself. He wanted nothing more than to concede to her, console her. Yet any such kindness would be cruelty in the end. He could not, must not allow himself to consider it.

"I...I could keep you here in my chambers..." he pleaded. "We could be together every night, and in the day, when I'm gone, I could leave you things to sew...books to read until my return..."

"You would shut me up in your study again? Make me wait like some pining lover while you rule a kingdom? While you're free to come and go as you please?" She shook her head fervently, her eyes wild. "I won't be your prisoner again, Thomas!"

The look she gave him could have shattered his heart.

He grit his teeth. The temptation to sin was flush in his veins, stronger than any wine. Her anguish was like a knife to him, twisting into his very flesh. He would do anything to soothe it, anything to make it stop. After all, it would be so easy...to abandon all reason, all thoughts of the greater good...to indulge instead in his own dark desire for her, consequences be damned. Already, he could feel the icy wall of his resolve dissolving, melting away to nothing.

He cursed himself to hell even as he spoke.

"There...there may be another way. A way for you to stay with me. Stand unheeded at my side."

She leaned forward, her hand grasping his thumb as if physically drawn to him by the promise of his words.

"There is a role here at court, one that has stood decidedly empty since I seized power. It is an archaic one...a relic from the days of the paternal warkings..."

"Tell me" she whispered, a hunger in her voice that chilled his heart.

"Please Fawn" he faltered. "Don't make me do this..."

"Tell me!" she cried. Her chest heaved, brow knitted fiercely as she peered up at him. "You took away my choice before. You owe it to me now."

At that moment, Thomas knew their fate was sealed. He looked away from her in sorrow, his gaze settling on the great glass windows that curved around the stone room. Outside, the city sprawled outward in the gray and dirty light: his kingdom, his burden. In that moment, he wished he could see it all burn.

"The Kingslave. You would be the Kingslave."

"Kingslave?" she whispered.

"Nameless. Faceless. The sole purpose of your existence would be to serve me, to sate my appetites. Tend my food, fill my cup, see to my...amusement. You would be by my side whenever and wherever I desire it: from the secrecy of the inner councils, to the crowded halls of the public court...even in the privacy of my bed."

"Your bed..." she whispered, her voice quivering though she tried to keep it steady. "You mean to say...I-I would be your whore?"

He clenched his jaw. The coarseness of the word sounded so foreign in her small, soft voice.

"No Fawn. You would be less than that. You would be my property. Worthless...expendable..."

"Invisible," she whispered, realization setting in. Her eyes flashed up to his, the dark irises flickering with a desperate hope. "They would not believe you could care for me. Will not for a moment think I'm worth bargaining for."

"Yes," he sighed heavily. "Precisely."

She stood then, beginning to pace the length of his hand, slender fingers running through her short hair.

"When I'm not needed, I could walk about the castle undisturbed?"

He stiffened. "Yes."

"And I would be privy to your council meetings? To the inner workings of the kingdom?"

"Yes, but Fawn -"

"I could help you," she turned to him fervently. "I could be your eyes, your ears, seek out those who would try to harm you....listen to your worries, your fears, help you to bear the burden of this rule. Thomas, I wouldn't have to hide. I could walk beside you freely!"

"Freely?" he snapped. "Fawn, I would own you. You would be by my side, yes, but at what cost? When we are in company, you would need to appear obedient, fearful, wholly submissive to my will. I snap my fingers and you run. I snap again and you kneel. I know your sensitive nature. It would be humiliating for you!"

For the first time, Thomas saw a shadow of doubt creep over her face. Though he hoped beyond hope that it would be enough to make her abandon this reckless plan, he couldn't help but feel the sting of her distrust.

"And when we're alone?" she questioned. "Would I be nothing to you then? Just a slave bound to your will?"

Thomas raised her up towards him, his brow creased with sadness. Curling a wall of fingers behind her back, he lifted her trembling chin with his thumb.

"Nothing...?" he breathed out incredulously. "Fawn...you are everything to me. Wherever we are, whatever the circumstance, your soul is as free as the day it was born." His thumb dropped down, grazing tenderly against her tiny chest. "In here, you and I are equal. Don't ever doubt it."

Her eyes swam at his words, a look of grim determination on her face. With both hands, she grasped the thumb that lay over her heart, impossibly tiny fingers digging into his skin.

Thomas felt a great despair sweep over him at the gesture. It seemed to say, I too am afraid. I too know this is no kind of choice. In any other lifetime, in any other place, he knew it would be a punishment most cruel. But goddammit if they wouldn't fight against the tides of fate, wrangle one small bit of solace from this wretched world.

From deep within the mountain, the great brass bells of the castle signalled the noon, the sound tolling out mournfully across the entire city.

Thomas broke away from her softly.

"We don't need to decide this now..." he faltered. "We have time yet...rest now, Fawn. You need it. You've been to hell and back these last few months."

She raised her head, her deep, dark eyes blinking at him in confusion. "Hell?"

Thomas smiled softly. Of course she didn't know the word. In this moment, he hoped she never would, wanted nothing more than to guard that curious innocence forever...to leave her world a place where such visions of evil did not exist.

"It doesn't matter" he said softly, lowering his hands to the bed and helping her to step down gently.

"I must get back to court" he rumbled apologetically. "There other envoys to receive, and the council of lords will be meeting soon. I can't let my absence go too far noticed. Will you be alright here for a while?"

She nodded briefly, gazing idly after him as he rose to busy himself about the room. Placing a steaming bowl of water and a soft cloth by the bed, he crouched down to his haunches again to face her. "Rest easy for a while, little one," he whispered, the front of his fingers brushing up and down the side of her body one final time. "There is much sorrow and fear in the world, but it cannot reach you here. Not now. Not today."

He stood up, towering over her completely.

"I will be back by nightfall."

***

It was dark when Thomas slipped into his chambers, the last dregs of dying light staining the horizon through the aged glass panes. His body ached with a weariness he hadn't known in years, his mind staggering under the assault of every vicious doubt, every wild fear that clawed its way into his heart. Cupping a hand over the flickering wisp of his candle, he tread softly and carefully through the cavernous rooms. Crude outlines materialized, half-finished in the shadows; a forlorn tapestry; a velvet stool; a painting of the churning sea. Then finally, the great, stone mantlepiece above the cold, dead hearth, and beside it, the looming outline of his four-tiered bed.

It took a moment before he could distinguish the faint outline of Fawn's body, blooming before him in the light of the low flame. His heart tightened at how small she looked, nestled into the vast ocean of his quilt, her birdlike shoulders delicate and bare. To the side, the bowl of warm water he had left her was now cold, the rags of her prisoner's garb left discarded there.

Putting them away, Thomas began to undress himself in turn, shedding the weight of the day with each heavy piece of clothing. Chest bare, he eased himself beneath the covers beside her with as much care as he could manage for his size. It was a testament to her exhaustion that she didn't even stir.

Hand propping up his head, he gazed down tenderly at the small girl. She looked almost peaceful again, her breathing steady and her tiny body soft in sleep. As his weary eyes drank in her presence, he could feel the turmoil of his thoughts grow fainter and fainter still, until they dissipated like mist off the water. Left in their place was an all-consuming peace, a love so deep that he thought his chest would burst.

It was true, she was much changed; the copper blush of her skin was washed out, pallid and cold in the twilight, and her once-long chestnut hair lay choppy and limp against her forehead. She was gaunter too, bones and bruises pushing up through her skin in silent witness to the cruelties she'd endured. Yet to Thomas, there was nothing in this vast and wondrous world more beautiful than she, and in that moment, he was overwhelmed by a grasping, selfish relief that she was here with him now, that he may yet hold her closely for many nights to come. After all, how could it be wrong? To take one so friendless and alone and keep her for himself, to love her with the the force of his entire being.

His thoughts were cut short as a whimper fractured the silence, Fawn's small shape shifting before him. Her breathing was growing more laboured, her tiny chest rising and falling rapidly like an injured sparrow. Her body began to twitch, her whimper rising into a low moan.

"Thomas...please..."

Thomas shifted closer, long fingers unfurling towards her protectively. He cupped one had behind her back, the other reaching out to gently stroke the little one's arm. She woke with a start.

"No...please!" she sputtered, writhing under his enormous presence. She froze as she met with the wall of his palm, his hand flexing slightly at her small weight.

"Hey...shhh..." he soothed her, the hand behind her curving around her body completely. He felt her muscles tense at the enclosure, then release, calming as his warmth surrounded her. Her eyes fluttered open slowly, her voice rough and heavy with sleep.

"Thomas?" she questioned tremulously.

The great mass before her moved closer, the familiar edges of his sharp features filling her vision in the low light.

"Yes, little one. I'm right here."

Fawn exhaled shakily, her mind still foggy from sleep. Grounded by the steady warmth of his hand, she gradually felt herself return to her surroundings, the last tendrils of her nightmare melting away into the darkness. She grasped the thick quilt to her bare chest.

"Here" his voice rumbled through her, hand disappearing into the shadows behind him. "I brought this for you."

Fawn reached outwards timidly, fingers brushing against a slip of soft, warm wool. He must have taken it from the servant's quarter. She pulled it over herself in shy appreciation, her movements slow with tiredness.

"Sleep now," he soothed, his thumb stroking down her hair. She seemed to relax at the low timbre of his voice, settling back into the warmth of his large and gentle hand. After several minutes of silence, Thomas thought she had fallen asleep, until her small voice broke the stillness.

"I dreamed you were leaving me...and I could not follow."

Thomas' brow creased, his chest tightening.

"I'm right here..." he whispered. "I'm not leaving you."

"I could see you in the distance, like a mountain moving against the pale horizon. I was running through the wet grass, my feet bare and bleeding." She paused. "We were by the seaside...somewhere I've never been, and there were gulls sweeping and cawing through the air. I screamed...I screamed your name until I was hoarse, but you were too far ahead. You boarded a boat into the wild sea. You didn't hear me..."

Her eyes were glassy and dark, the night giving her words a tragic air.

"Shh..." he hushed her, "it was just a dream. You have nothing to fear."

Her voice was as fragile as the autumn moonlight.

"I fear that none of this is real," she whispered. Sometimes it feels like you're a ghost...just some phantom conjured by my grieving heart...like I'll blink once, and you'll be gone..."

Thomas' felt an unbearable sadness settle in his heart.

Without breaking his gaze, he turned from his side to his stomach, so she was enclosed on either side by the wall of his arms. With the utmost gentleness, he scooped her little body into his palm, laying her back down gently in the enveloping softness of his down pillow. He thought he saw her sink back slightly at his enormous presence and he couldn't help but think how small she looked, how vulnerable nestled in the indent his head had left.

"Tell me," he uttered softly, "is this real?"

Fawn breathed in sharply as the shadow of his massive hand settled slowly over her, the front of his finger extending outward until it barely brushed against her cheek.

"And this?" he whispered, his hand straying downwards, the tip of his finger grazing along the outline of her jaw, her neck, her collarbone and chest. She shivered deeply in response.

"What about this?" He leaned down over her, slow enough that she was forced to take in the heart-stopping magnitude of him; slow enough that those few seconds would stretch out like a vision of eternity; slow enough that she would know the full weight of his inconsolable yearning.

Then, he kissed her, gently, tenderly, his lips brushing against the impossible softness of her skin.

For a single, blissful moment, Fawn felt her soul sink into his, her body weightless as dappled light.

"Yes..." she whispered.

Above her, Thomas face was a mask of tenderness and passion. His fingers rose up before her, resuming their soft, deft dance across her body; slower this time, purposeful, the tip of each finger tracing ghost-like patterns on her skin.

"I never stopped thinking of you" he whispered fervently "not for one moment. God, how I suffered in your absence! How I ached for you! Every thought was bent on you...if you were safe, if you were were suffering, if you had forgotten me...found someone else to love..."

"There was no one else" she murmured, her voice small and broken. "You must know by now there could never be anyone else..."

Thomas' heart spiked, his breathing accelerating at her words. He wanted her closer, needed her skin on his skin, her soul near his soul. Fingers curling around her, he moved her effortlessly into his palm, his thumb and forefinger pressing into her sides with a gentle urgency. Her breath shuddered softly in response, her own hands seeking his, running along every inch of skin they could find as if any second apart was a torment neither could endure. Her mouth found his, tracing fluttering kisses against his lower lip, the sensation sending a shock straight to his core and his fingers to her slip.

As he pushed against the soft wool, she suddenly went stiff, her voice quivering as she froze up in his grip. His hand twitched slightly as he felt her helplessness, knew there was nothing she could do to stop him if he so desired.

Instead, his touch retreated, his hand lowering gently back onto the sheets.

"Are you alright?" he uttered, eyes flashing down at her with gentle concern. She looked lost, uncertain, her eyes beseeching him.

"Fawn, listen to me," he spoke softly, "we don't have to do this if you're not ready. You're in control of your body, do you understand? Not me. Not anyone else. I want you to feel every moment of bliss that I'm capable of giving you. So if I take you, it will be because we both will it, because you are sure. Not a moment before."

Fawn breathed in deeply, a surge of emotion sweeping through her at his patience, his understanding. Gazing up at his face, she searched it with the awe of a lover, committing each small detail into the deep vaults of her memory. The fleck of starlight in his eyes, the small scar on his right jaw, the creases near his eyes and brow, and the stubble that grazed the proud ridges of his face. She had never loved a face so much, could never imagine herself growing tired of it. It was like its own landscape, beautiful and wild, carrying within it the traces of the years, their cruelty, and suffering. And below all of that, a deep tenderness...one that she alone of all the people on this vast earth knew. She could not help it. She loved him. Helplessly. Hopelessly. She always would.

With a shy hesitance, she pushed herself to her knees, bringing her hand up slowly and timidly to stroke against his bottom lip. She jolted slightly as he sucked in a sharp breath, surprised that her small touch could elicit such a response from one so large.

He remained patient and still, his hand only coming up to steady her. It was enough.

"I'm sure of this," she uttered. "I'm sure of you."

Gently, Thomas swept her hair behind her shoulders, gazing deep into her eyes. With her small nod, he gently pinched the hem of her slip, peeling it slowly and reverently from her fragile body. The moonlight caressed every line of her slender form, bathing her in its ethereal glow. His chest ached at her beauty, and though she averted her eyes in shyness, for the first time, she didn't shrink entirely from his gaze.

As the candle flickered out in its wax, they drew toward one another, the heat of their cores enough to light the room.

"I love you", he whispered, his lips consuming her lips, "I love you" the length of her thigh, "I love you" her soft stomach, her tiny chest. Her nerves thrummed and tingled from his heat, the heady, masculine scent of him swirling around her with each of his breaths. She gripped the pillow behind her, body arching up into his kiss.

"I love you, too" she breathed, her faint voice melting into the night.

Authors' Notes

Wow...so...yes. I have been wanting to write Thomas and Fawn's first time together for a long time, but I wanted it to be right, to be loving, to be safe. This was finally the time.

I hope I'm not the only one who loves to read g/t romance...there is so little of it, and I hope I did it justice. And to my younger readers, just a reminder that consent is SO so important. Never feel scared or stupid to say stop or no, and always listen to your partner's words and body language.

Alright, let's talk! Fawn as the Kingslave, these babies' first time, anything, everything!

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