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Message-ID: <47639asstr$1083060605@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Vulgar Argot <vulgarargotREMOVEALL@CAPSinsidejoke.tv>
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Subject: {ASSM} Princes of Mannsborough, Chapter 7 of 22
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Date: Tue, 27 Apr 2004 06:10:05 -0400
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Princes of Mannsborough, Chapter 7 of 22.)
by Vulgar Argot
(caution. Additional tags at bottom to avoid spoilerage.)

<authors-note>
I was so unhappy with the second draft of this section that I couldn't
get my head around the next section. So, this is the third draft. I'm
a lot happier with it than either of the previous drafts.

Special thanks to the fan whose suggesting led to this revision. It
made this a much better story.
</authors-note>

Marigold woke when she felt Thule's weight settle at her feet on the
couch. She rolled over onto her back and pulled the blanket down from
her face. Thule was dressed in his suit and tie again, ready for
another day of meetings. He smiled at her uncertainly, "Morning."

Marigold stretched as best she could without exposing herself with
Thule sitting on the end of her blanket.

"I want to get a look at you," he said. When Marigold hesitated, he
added, "to make sure there's no lasting damage from last night. I
don't think there is, but it would make me feel better to know for
sure."

Marigold nodded and released her grip on the edge of the blanket.
Thule pulled it back to her waist, "Anything hurt?"

Marigold considered the question, "I've got a lot of muscle aches in
my back, arms, legs, and, for some reason, my feet."

Thule nodded, "Do you have something in that first aid kit you packed
for minor burns?"

Marigold sat up a little, examining herself. From the front, she saw
only a small reddish spot just below above her collarbone where Maya
had initially splashed her with the first candle. She touched it
experimentally and found it only mildly sensitive.

"There's a tube labeled 'burn cream' in there," she said. "But, this
is pretty minor."

"Still," said Thule. "I would like to treat it. Plus..." he held up
his hand, the back of which had an angry red splotch on it.

"How did that happen?" asked Marigold.

"The second candle," said Thule. "When I grabbed it, wax spilled."

Marigold remembered the moment. Thule must have been in remarkable
pain, but he'd just stood firm, not pulling away, not letting Maya
dump another full candle on her. Marigold felt it was very import to
say something at that moment, but she didn't know what. Fortunately,
Thule was out of the room at that moment, retrieving the first aid
kit.

He came back with the kit a moment later, opened it, found the cream,
and dabbed a little on Marigold's hand. Then, he tried awkwardly to
spread more on the back of his own hand while holding the tube.

"Here," said Marigold, taking the tube, "let me." She smeared the
cream on evenly.

Thule drew the blanket the rest of the way off of her, leaving
Marigold naked on the couch. With one hand, he gently spread her legs,
looking closely at her inner thighs. His touch was completely
clinical, as if he were a doctor.

"Roll over, please," he said. When Marigold had complied, he went on,
"It looks like the cane broke the skin on your shoulderblade a little
bit. There's also a small bit of bruising. Nothing looks major,
though. How's your knee where she hit you?"

"Stiff," admitted Marigold. As Thule applied another cream to her
shoulderblade, she was left to wonder if he could possibly be the same
man who's hands had trembled with barely-contained passion to touch
her over the last two days? His hands now were completely impersonal.

"We need to talk," said Thule. "But, right now, I need breakfast and
to get to my meetings. The hotel has a masseur on staff. I can arrange
for you to see him when we check out if you like."

Marigold nodded, "All right."

Thule gave her another uncertain smile, "Why don't you go ahead and
get in the shower? I'm going to head downstairs shortly. You can meet
me in the restaurant."

Marigold frowned, "I already got a shower earlier this morning." She
wanted to add, "while you were fucking Maya," but held her tongue.

"Okay," said Thule. "Go and get dressed. We can go down to breakfast
together."

Marigold didn't move, "Thule?"

Thule looked down at her, "Yes?"

"What's next for us?"

The question hung in the air for a few seconds before Thule said,
"You'd better get dressed while I start to answer that question.
That's not going to be a short conversation."

Marigold still didn't move. She just lay there and watched Thule.

"Marigold," he said. "Go get dressed."

"Is that an order?"

Thule paused before answering the question. Marigold held her breath.
Finally, he said, "Yes, Little Flower. It is."

Marigold rose from the couch and went into the bedroom without another
word.

"Feeling contrite?" Thule asked as he came into the room behind her.

Marigold shook her head, "Not particularly. I just wanted to see if
you intended to continue ordering me around."

"At least until I get you home tonight," Thule said. "I'm done
punishing you, if that's what you mean."

"Oh," said Marigold, feeling her stomach sink. "I thought you were
going to keep punishing me until I went away to Harvard."

Thule shrugged, "I thought I would need to. I was...a lot angrier at
you when this started. You're a very different person than you were
when this started, Marigold." He took a deep breath, "I don't expect
you to thank me for it, but..."

Marigold, who had gotten into her bra and panties, stopped dressing,
"Thule, I told you last night how I feel about you. I thought you felt
the same. Now, I don't know. Do you...feel the same?"

Thule smiled sadly, "I haven't really let myself think about it,
Marigold. There are a lot of things I need to do before the end of
summer--things I can't tell you about. This would be a very bad time
for me to fall in love."

Marigold lowered her head, ordering herself not to cry, "Oh."
Mechanically, she went about the business of getting dressed.

"What about the prom?" she asked quietly.

Thule turned around, taking her hands in his, "Marigold, I would love
to take you to the prom. Will you go with me?"

Marigold raised her eyebrow at him, "Are you asking me or ordering
me?"

"I'm asking," said Thule.

"Order me," said Marigold. There was a note of pleading in her voice.

Thule shook his head in the negative, "No."

Marigold drew her hands away from him. She wanted so much to say
"yes," but the image of him making love to Maya still burned across
her corneas. He had betrayed her. After all of his protests of not
wanting Maya while Marigold was in earshot, he had taken the first
opportunity to betray her, not even waiting until she was out of the
suite.

If only he would order her to go, none of it would matter. She could
go to the prom with him, continue to sleep with him, do exactly what
she wanted. But, he wouldn't give her that. He'd had what he wanted.
Now, he was casting her aside.

"I'll have to see what other offers I have first," said Marigold
coldly. She saw an initial spasm of anger cross Thule's face when she
said it and, for a moment, she felt a glimmer of hope that he would
reverse his decision and start ordering her around again.

Instead, he turned his back on her and said quietly, "Why don't you
head down to the restaurant and get us a table? I have a couple of
phone calls to make."

"Fine," said Marigold, fleeing the room with as much dignity as she
could manage

She was still fuming down in the restaurant when Adam approached her
table.

"Dining alone?" he asked.

"Yes," hissed Marigold. "I mean...no. That is..."

Adam smiled, "Perhaps a better question would be, 'Can I join you?'"

Marigold smiled. The idea of a conversational buffer between herself
and Thule this morning struck her as a good idea, "Sure. Have a seat."

Adam's grin got wider, "Great. I was afraid I was going to have to eat
alone. Now, I've got a lovely young woman to keep me company."

Behind him, Thule said, "She is lovely, isn't she?"

Adam tensed as if expecting a confrontation. Thule just walked past
him and took the other chair.

"Ah," Adam said, trying to find his smile again. "You must be
Marigold's husband."

Marigold's heart sank. How could she have forgotten all of the lies
she'd told Adam yesterday? She saw Thule open his mouth to speak and
jumped in, "Yes. Adam, this is my husband, Thule. Thule, this is
Adam."

Thule turned his back to Adam so that he could give Marigold a
quizzical look. Marigold kept her face carefully blank. She said
evenly, "Adam is from Australia."

Thule turned back to Adam, "Nice to meet you, Adam from Australia. How
do you know my wife?"

"I met her while swimming yesterday. She was nice enough to answer
some of my questions."

"Really?" said Thule. "What about?"

Adam seemed surprised by the question, "New York?"

"Ah..." said Thule.

"Adam sells surveillance equipment," interjected Marigold.

Thule paused for a moment, then asked, "Really? Who for?"

"Atech-Terra," said Adam.

Thule raised an eyebrow, "They make some pretty high-end stuff. You
selling to the NYPD?"

"I, uh..." said Adam, leaning in. "I can't really talk about who my
clients are."

Thule tapped his forehead, "Of course. Of course. Didn't mean to pry."

"You have an interest in surveillance?" Adam asked.

Thule nodded, "I'm sure my wife must have talked about my interest in
optics."

"Err," said Adam. "She said you were studying electrical engineering
at Harvard."

"MIT," offered Marigold.

Thule nodded, "That's where the money is. But, I'm focusing on
surveillance-based electronics, which means a lot of
cross-disciplinary study in optics and acoustics."

At that point, Marigold lost the thread of the conversation. All she
got out of it was that Thule was a much more facile liar than she was.
Of course, she'd already come to suspect that.

After breakfast, Thule said, "Adam, I hope you don't mind if I borrow
my wife for a while. We need to check out."

"Of course," said Adam. "It was nice meeting you."

In the elevator, on the way up to their room, Thule asked casually,
"So. What the fuck are you up to?"

He hadn't bothered to turn and face Marigold when he said it. Marigold
was forced to twist instead. When she did, she realized that Thule had
positioned himself in such a way that she had to step back or crane
her neck to talk to him.

"What do you care?" she asked. "I think you made it pretty clear that
you're done with me. Maybe I'm just evaluating my other options."

"You met him yesterday," said Thule.

It took Marigold a moment to understand what he was getting at. By the
time she had, the elevator door had opened and Thule was walking away,
forcing Marigold to follow, taking two steps to each of his long
strides. Halfway down the hall, he grabbed a luggage cart, trailing it
behind him, blocking Marigold from getting close enough to speak. As a
result, she wasn't able to speak to him until he was back at the room.
When she did, the best she could come up with was, "You never forbade
me from talking to other men."

Thule stopped fumbling with his key card, "No. I didn't. I didn't
forbid you from fucking other men either, did I?"

Again, Marigold was stunned. And, again Thule took the opportunity to
walk away from her, unlocking the door and striding into the suite.
She caught up with him in the bedroom.

"I didn't fuck him," said Marigold. "I didn't even kiss him. We just
had a drink."

Thule started piling their luggage onto the cart, "How virtuous of
you."

"Dammit, Thule," exclaimed Marigold. "Don't be like that. I didn't. I
could have. He wanted me. And, you didn't say I couldn't."

Thule didn't answer. He finished piling up their luggage and started
pushing the cart, "Get a good look around to make sure you didn't
leave anything behind. We're not coming back."

"Dammit, Thule," said Marigold. "Don't shut me out like this. I didn't
do anything wrong."

Thule gave her such a glare that Marigold actually took a step
backwards. With a violent jerk, he got the cart moving, then he was
out the door again.

Marigold stood in the middle of the room, stunned. She wanted to chase
after Thule, but whether she would fall to her knees and beg for
forgiveness or try to claw his eyes out, she didn't know. Before she
could decide, she spotted her physics textbook on the kitchen counter.
A moment of panic hit her. If she'd left that here, she would have had
to explain it to her parents, who would have told her to call her aunt
to get it back. She gave the rooms a thorough search.

Looking under the bed, she came out with a little, black box with
wires running off of it. She recognized it from her work at the
hospital as a TENS unit--a device used to administer electrical shocks
to patients who had heart arrhythmias.

For a moment, she puzzled over where it could have come from. Then,
she realized it must have fallen out of Maya's duffel bag during the
night.

She shuddered. Electrical shock was high on her list of irrational
fears. She'd always treated anything that administered a shock with
great respect.

As she tucked it into her pocket, Marigold wondered what else Thule
had protected her from last night. In spite of herself, she felt a
momentary rush of gratitude, which she clamped down on quickly.

She caught up with Thule at the front desk, but he was checking out.
It wasn't until they were down in the parking garage that they were
able to speak.

"Your massage is in twenty minutes," said Thule, handing her a
receipt. "I'll be back at 2:30. If you're still here, I can give you a
ride back to Mannsborough."

"If I'm still here?"

Thule looked at her over the car, "You're obviously mad at me for
something. If you're so mad that you'd rather take a bus back to
Mannsborough than ride back with me, I'll understand."

"Something?" Marigold asked. "Something? Thule, you fucked Maya last
night. I saw you." Her words echoed across the parking garage, but she
was too angry to care. "I saw you. After you swore up and down that
you didn't want her, that she was 'nothing to you,' you fucked her."

Thule laughed. Marigold was so angry that her face drained of all
blood. How dare he laugh at her for caring who he fucked? He opened
the car door, "That's what you're mad about? Marigold, I'm already
late for my meeting. I don't have time for this, but I assure you that
everything I said last night was true. I'm done with Maya. She is..."
He took a deep breath. "I can't talk about this now. I have to get
going. We'll talk when I get back." Then, he stepped into the car.

Marigold crouched down so she could talk to him through the window,
"Are you so sure I'm going to be here when you get back?"

Thule glared at her, starting the car, "If you want to talk, you'll be
here."

Marigold decided to take one more stab at establishing their
relationship on terms she could live with.

"You still haven't told me I can't fuck other guys," she pointed at.

Thule put the car into reverse, "You're a big girl, Marigold. Do
whatever the hell you want."

                                    -=-
                                    
Marigold stalked back up to the lobby in a cold rage. All the fury she
thought she should have felt over her treatment at Thule's hand welled
up in her until she found herself leaning against the wall, shaking
with barely-contained rage.

Seeing Adam step out of the elevator, she fled into the ladies' room.
Fortunately, it seemed to be unoccupied. Leaning against the counter
with her hands pressed on the edge, she felt the crumpling of paper.

She looked down. Crumpled between her fingers was a yellow slip of
paper. She unfolded it.

It read, "Massage, 11:30. $195.00."

Still in a fury, she crumpled it again and threw it towards the trash.
It would have gone in, but she felt a sudden pain in her shoulder as
she tried to throw. Instead, it bounced off the wall.

"Shit," she muttered, going down on her knees. She retrieved the
receipt and uncrumpled it again. Obviously, she needed a massage. She
would just try to forget that it was from Thule.

When the masseuse saw the receipt, she smiled, "Ahh. The deluxe
treatment. Great. We don't get to do a lot of these."

"You don't?" asked Marigold.

"No," said the masseuse. "You'll love it, though. It's well worth what
you spent."

"Actually," said Marigold. "It was a gift."

"Ah," said the masseuse. She smiled broadly, pearly white teeth in
sharp contrast to her black skin. "Your boyfriend?"

"I, uh..." said Marigold. "I'm not sure exactly what he is--not my
boyfriend exactly."

"Well," said the masseuse. "You may not know what he is, but he
certainly seems to think he knows. I can't even get a man to spring
for a drink without thinking I owe him something."

Marigold nodded thoughtfully.

"I'm sorry," said the masseuse. "If I talk to much, just tell me to
change the subject. I'm Rita, by the way."

Marigold took Rita's proffered hand, "It's all right. I just have a
lot of thinking to do."

Rita nodded, "Why don't you get undressed and get under the towel.
I'll be back in a few minutes."

Marigold discovered that, despite not looking particularly strong,
Rita had incredibly powerful hands. The deluxe treatment apparently
involved a lot in the way of unguents and warm, scented oils. It
seemed to take a long time before the massage worked its way beyond a
light rubbing.

Rita kept a running dialog going, but it was light enough that
Marigold was able to keep up her half of the conversation without much
thought. It gave her plenty of time to think about what had happened.

What had Thule meant by saying he was really done with Maya? At the
time, Marigold had just assumed Thule was lying. But, why would he?
He'd never bothered lying to her before, seemed to take pride in the
fact that he didn't have to. Did he just mean that he was done with
her now that he'd had her one last time? Could Marigold live with
that?

At first, she couldn't believe she was even asking herself the
question. The idea was absurd. Thule had blackmailed her, taken
advantage of her, turned her over to an old enemy, and cheated on her
the moment her back was turned.

But, she also couldn't deny that she'd already taken most of that into
account and fallen in love with him anyway. With the possible
exception of her parents and stepfather, no one had ever treated her
as well as Thule had when he wasn't being absolutely awful.

As for giving her over to Maya, Marigold couldn't convince herself
that she hadn't deserved it. And, unbelievably, Maya had forgiven her.
It was like thinking she'd murdered someone and discovering that it
had all been a big misunderstanding and they were alive and well.

All right, Maya wasn't exactly well, but she was alive. And, she had
forgiven Marigold. The thought made tears well up in her eyes.

With embarrassment, Marigold realized that she was crying in the
middle of a massage. She reached up and wiped her tears away.

"Don't worry about it, honey," said Rita. "Deep massage can bring out
a lot of weird emotions. Do you want me to stop for a bit?"

Marigold shook her head, "No. It's amazing."

Rita nodded, "I take good care of you. Don't I?"

The massage went on for a while longer. Then, Rita asked, "Marigold,
can I ask you kind of a personal question?"

Marigold nodded, "Go ahead."

"This not-boyfriend of yours, does he hit you?"

"No," said Marigold quickly. "Why do you ask?"

"Well," said Rita. "If I weren't massaging you, I would never have
noticed. But, you've got a few spots where you're really sensitive and
I can't help but notice there are some minor contusions back here."

Marigold laughed a little, "Rita, can you keep a secret?"

Rita shook her head, "Nope. I gossip like you wouldn't believe.
Everything that goes in my ear comes right back out my mouth."

Marigold laughed harder, "Well, could you keep one until I'm far
enough away that I don't have to hear it?"

Rita laughed, "That I can do."

"It wasn't my not-boyfriend. It was a friend of mine--at least, she
used to be a friend of mine. It's...complicated."

"Sort of a not-girlfriend?"

"That will work as an explanation," said Marigold. "It's close enough.
She did this to me."

"Was it consensual?"

Marigold considered the question, "Yeah. It was consensual."

Rita laughed again, "So, you like to get freaky once in a while. No
big deal. Is she a pro? She did good work. It took me a while to
figure out what I was seeing. I have a few clients who've been on the
receiving end. They don't look as good as you do--in terms of
marking."

"A pro?" asked Marigold. "I really don't know. It didn't occur to me
that people would pay for that sort of thing."

Rita's laugh was heartier this time, "As near as I can tell, anything
one person can do to another, someone is willing to pay to have it
done to them."

Marigold spent the next two minutes in contemplative silence. She'd
just told a complete stranger the intimate details of her sex
life--details she would probably deny vehemently if accused of them by
someone like Brianne. More interestingly, Rita has seemed completely
nonplussed, treating it as if it were the most natural thing in the
world.

Marigold came to two conclusions. The first was that her life was
getting too big and complicated to deal with alone. The second was
that the world was probably a much more interesting place than she'd
given it credit for.

                                    -=-
                                    
After the massage, Marigold had a manicure, a pedicure, and a shower.
She came out unbelievably relaxed and, in general, feeling much better
about the world. She'd resolved all of the issues weighing on her mind
except one. She still wasn't sure she could get past the image of
Thule rolling over on top of Maya and fucking her.

She wanted to. If it had happened when she was there, she wouldn't
have minded so much. She chuckled at that thought, but it was true.
She'd been fantasizing about the idea of being Maya and Thule's lover
through high school only a few minutes before she'd caught them
together. Even now, remembering the sensation of being pressed between
them got her breathing a little bit faster.

In the middle of reapplying her makeup, Marigold paused to stare at
herself in the mirror. She'd always worn very little. But, she'd
always thought of herself as a girl too, not a woman. Washing her
face, she started over.

Considering the results, she started over again. Then, she did it
again. This had all seemed much simpler when Holly had explained it to
her a few years back. She hadn't thought it looked very hard.

"Come on, Marigold," she muttered to herself. "This isn't rocket
science."

On the third try, she finally got the result she desired. She looked
grown up without being slutty. That word's meaning had been radically
changed in her mind, but what looked slutty hadn't changed much.

Stroking her hair, she debated doing something with it other than just
letting it hang down. But, there wasn't much she could do here without
any of the beauty products she'd left locked in Thule's car.

Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she went to a pay phone in
the hotel lobby and dialed Thule's cell phone number. It rang enough
times that she expected to get his voice mail. Instead, he said,
"Thule speaking."

"It's Marigold," she said quietly. "Did I get you out of a meeting?"

"Don't worry about that," said Thule. "What's up?"

"I..." Marigold had planned out what she was going to say, but the
plan escaped her at the moment. Improvising, she said, "I just wanted
to say that I'll be at the hotel when you're done...That's all."

The silence stretched on long enough that Marigold thought she might
have been disconnected before Thule said, "I'm really glad for that,
Marigold. I'll see you there. We can talk then."

"Okay, Thule," said Marigold quietly.

Thule sighed over the phone, "All right, Marigold. Get us a table in
the restaurant for lunch, please. I'll join you as soon as I can."

"All right, Thule. I...I'll see you there." She hung up the phone.

Marigold sagged against the wall. The call had gone as well as she
could have hoped, but it had still been exhausting. She took a moment
to catch her breath before heading over to the restaurant.

At breakfast, the restaurant had already been somewhat crowded with
Sunday brunch people. Now, there was a line waiting to get in.
Marigold put her name on the list and went to wait at the bar.

"Quite a queue, isn't it?" Adam asked.

Marigold hadn't seen him approach. She whirled around, a bit
surprised.

"Sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to startle you."

Marigold almost denied that he had, but her hands was still pressed to
her chest in the universal sign for, "You startled me." So, she just
smiled at him.

"Let me buy you a drink to make it up to you," he said.

"I don't..." Marigold stopped herself before she claimed that she
didn't drink. "I don't know if we'll be waiting long enough..."

Adam scanned the bar area, "I suspect we've got at least a half hour
to wait. Screwdriver was your drink, wasn't it?"

"Uh, yes," said Marigold.

Adam ordered her a screwdriver. Marigold realized that she hadn't
exactly consented to accept it, but once it was in front of her, it
would have been rude to decline. She decided to sip it as slowly as
possible.

"Will Thule be joining you for lunch?"

Marigold nodded, "He's got his last meeting for the weekend this
morning. He'll be along soon."

"So," asked Adam. "How did you two meet?"

Marigold froze. She had no idea how to answer. Sipping her drink, she
tried to think of a convincing story. By the time she came up with
what she thought was a good story, her drink was half gone.

Adam seemed to accept her story about a college party at face value,
but he started asking follow-up questions. Marigold, who had never
been to a college party and damned few high school ones, was forced to
improvise. She found herself going to the glass time and again to give
herself a moment to think before answering.

When she found the glass empty, Adam immediately asked, "Another?"

Marigold, who was searching desperately for an answer to, "I didn't
think MIT students had enough time to go to too many parties," nodded
gratefully.

By the time she'd finished her second drink, Marigold realized her
error. She wasn't a small girl with no experience with alcohol. And,
she hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast. Her head was already
swimming. Alarmed, she blinked at Adam, who smiled at her
reassuringly.

"I should really see what's taking so long with our table," she said
and rose from the stool. She must have stood up too quickly, though,
because the restaurant lurched abruptly to the left. She might have
fallen, but Adam caught her.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

Marigold nodded, "I just slipped."

"Why don't you sit back down," said Adam. "I'll see how much longer
the wait is."

Marigold sat back on her stool. Adam disappeared and reemerged a
minute later. He was frowning.

"They said it would still be another 45 minutes or so," he said. "They
promised to call my room when our tables are ready. I thought you
could use a lie down since the cigarette smoke here seems to be going
to your head."

Marigold wasn't entirely oblivious to what Adam was proposing, but it
almost seemed to be happening to someone else. Besides, if Thule could
fool around, so could she. Smiling, she extended an arm to Adam so
that he could help her down from her stool.

By the time they were in the elevator, Adam's arm was around her,
supporting her, but pressing her against him too.

Halfway up to the eighth floor, he turn towards her and said, "You
know, Marigold. You really are a very beautiful young woman."

She smiled crookedly, "So are you, Adam." 

He laughed. When Marigold looked up to see what was so funny, he
leaned down and kissed her full on the mouth.

It was not a gentle or a polite kiss, either. It was hungry and
demanding. Marigold's lips parted involuntarily at first, then
willingly. Adam was a good kisser--good enough that, coupled with the
alcohol and her lingering anger at Thule's infidelity, it was enough
to make her forget who she'd worked so hard to become and revert to
who she'd been seemingly a lifetime ago. Her arms went around Adam's
chest, her hands gripping his back.

Adam practically carried Marigold to his room, kissing her the whole
way. As he pressed her back onto the bed, a tiny voice in the back of
Marigold's head was trying to get her attention. But, his hands and
lips on her just felt so good. When he took a nipple in his mouth, she
let out a guttural moan.

"Oh, God," she moaned. "Yes."

When his hand slid between her legs, Marigold gasped, first with
pleasure, then with alarm. Her head cleared a little. She was about to
have sex with a man she barely knew and she couldn't even remember
why.

"Stop," she said. But, she said it quietly. Getting a man this far and
making him stop was something high school girls did. She was afraid he
would hear her and know she'd lied to him. For some reason, that point
seemed absurdly important.

When his tongue slid between her legs, Marigold forgot again why she'd
been trying to stop him. Soon, she was gripping the back of his head,
pulling him deeper.

"Come back later, please," Adam called out. It took Marigold a
confused moment to realize that he wasn't talking to her. Someone had
knocked on the door. The knock came again, more insistent.

"I said go away," Adam said more loudly this time. The words weren't
out of his mouth when there was a loud thud and the door vibrated with
impact. A second later, the door vibrated again and flew open. Thule
barreled through. He didn't even seem to break stride before he'd
caught Adam by the back of the shirt and thrown him bodily over
Marigold and the bed. With his pants down around his ankles, Adam had
no way to regain his balance and went down like a sack of potatoes.
Thule vaulted over Marigold, grabbed Adam by the shoulders and threw
him face down on the room's other bed.

"I'm giving you ten seconds to explain why I shouldn't cut your dick
off and ram it up your ass," Thule growled, leaning over Adam. The
salesman started to stammer.

"Thule," Marigold said desperately, trying to rise. "Don't hurt him."

Slowly, Thule rose until he was standing upright, towering over Adam.
He glared at the older man, murder in his eyes. For a few long
seconds, Marigold was afraid that he really was going to kill Adam.
But, he turned on his heel, walked around the bed she was laying on,
and closed the hotel room door.

"Marigold," he said in a tone that brooked no argument. "Clean
yourself up and get dressed."

Marigold rose, surprised to find out that she was completely naked.
She didn't remember her clothes coming off. Gathering them up, she
said, "Thule..."

"We'll talk later, Little Flower," said Thule. His voice was gentler
now, "Get dressed."

Marigold did as she was told, gathering her clothes and locking
herself in the bathroom.

As she dressed, she could hear voices through the door. Thule's, calm
and even, alternated with Adam's, which seemed to be running the full
spectrum of emotions from anger to terror.

Marigold took longer than she'd expected to. Halfway through getting
dressed, she started to cry and ended up having to wash off her makeup
after it ran down her face. Once she was dressed, she stared at
herself in the mirror, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

Before she could come to any conclusion, she heard a change in Thule's
tone. Whatever he said, it was more relaxed, even joking. Adam
laughed.

Marigold was so curious that she emerged from the bathroom.

"Ah," said Thule, his voice light. "There she is."

Adam nodded. He was holding a tumbler of some sort of liquor, his hand
shaking a little. His eyes darted back and forth between Thule and
Marigold like a caged animal.

"Marigold," Thule said quietly. "We need to get going if we're going
to get home on time."

"All right," she said meekly. Thule turned and placed a hand between
her shoulderblades, guiding her towards the door. As they stood in the
doorway, he turned back towards the room, "Take care of yourself,
Adam. Be safe." Then, he closed the door. 

                                    -=-
                                    
They had already left the city before Marigold dared to speak. Even
then, the best she could come up with was, "Thule, I'm sorry."

Thule didn't answer for so long that Marigold started to doubt that
he'd heard. His window was open, the wind a constant background noise.

"Thule..."

"Marigold," Thule interrupted her. "You shouldn't be apologizing to
me. I...I pushed you too far this weekend. You didn't deserve
everything that happened. I..."

When Marigold realized that he wasn't going to finish the thought, she
said, "You what?"

"I don't want you to end up like Maya," he said. "I wanted you to
understand how wrong what you did was. But, I didn't want to break you
by showing you. I don't know what was going on there with you and
Adam. But, I feel responsible."

"Thule..."

"You weren't the sort of girl who would go with Adam to his hotel room
before I got my hands on you," he said.

"No," said Marigold. "And you weren't the sort of boy who would plot
and carry out elaborate revenge scenarios before I betrayed Maya.
Knowing what you do now, would you do it again?"

"I don't know," Thule admitted. "I certainly wouldn't do it exactly
the same, though."

Marigold chuckled, feeling relieved, "Can I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead."

"Why did you come barreling into Adam's room?"

Thule laughed, "To rescue you."

"How did you know I needed rescuing?"

"Did you?"

Marigold nodded, "I didn't really want to go through with it, but I
didn't want to tell him to stop, either. I was just so afraid that he
would find out I'd lied to him about being older and more
sophisticated that I couldn't find my voice."

Thule didn't answer. Only the wind whipping through his window and the
sound of passing cars broke the silence.

"Thule," Marigold asked, a note of pleading in her voice. "What's
going to happen next...with us?"

"What do you want to happen?"

Marigold considered the question before answering, "I want you to
order me not to be with other men."

Thule's face was carefully neutral when he answered, "I can't do that,
Little Flower."

Marigold was crushed, "Why not?"

When Thule finally answered, he said, "I can't do what it takes to
deserve your loyalty. I can't ask you to stay away from other men. I
have unfinished business. I'm going to need some people to trust me so
that I can betray them. I'll do whatever it takes to make them trust
me. I'm sorry, Marigold."

Marigold shook her head, "Don't be. Thule, after this weekend, I have
no idea who I am. I feel like I've wasted most of high school trying
to live up to some foolish idea I had about myself. You and Maya
brought up aspects of myself I tried a long time to bury. Be patient
with me, Thule. I think I'm in love with you. But, I don't know who
you are and I don't know who I am."

Thule cleared his throat, "About me and Maya..."

Marigold shook her head, "You don't have to explain. I understand. You
need her to trust you."

Thule laughed, "God, no. Marigold, you are so far off."

"I am?"

Thule nodded, "I woke up this morning, dimly aware that someone had
climbed on top of me. I thought it was you. I had no idea Maya was
crazy enough to do that while I slept. When I realized it wasn't you,
I tried to push her off of me. But, I was too far gone. I'd...finished
before I could disentangle myself. If I'd been awake and aware, it
never would have happened."

Marigold breathed a sigh of relief, "So, you didn't enjoy it?"

Thule shook his head in the negative, "Physically, yes--but only
because I had no context. You have nothing to worry about with Maya.
Whatever we once had, I would rather stick my dick in a meat grinder
than go through another relationship with her. With the grinder, it
would be over faster and, ultimately, involve far less pain."

Marigold understood all too well. By the time Thule barreled into the
room, she'd forgotten that she didn't want to be with Adam. However
much she might regret it later, she'd wanted him to make love to her.

Uncomfortable with that line of thought, Marigold turned to another
idea that had been troubling her, "I need to help her, Thule. She's
the way she is because of me."

Thule shook his head, "You hurt her. But, she's the way she is because
she choose to let her pain and outrage define her. I've watched her
change over time. You may have bent her, but she broke herself."

"Even so," said Marigold. "I need to help her. I want to help her.
She's someone who once meant a lot to me. And now, she's suffering.
What can I do?"

Thule shrugged, "Talk to Jonas about it. He's far better positioned to
help her than I am."

Marigold looked puzzled, "What do you mean? I don't think that even
Jonas could get her to go back to church."

Thule started laughing. Several times, it looked like he had it under
control. Then, he would burst out laughing again. Finally, he said,
"Maya is unlikely to see the church as an ally any time soon. She
blames it for almost as many of her problems as she does you. Jonas
has given a lot of money to mental health facilities in the area. I
was thinking he could help her get admitted."

"Do you think she would go?" asked Marigold.

"She would probably take some persuading," Thule admitted. "I guess I
would help with that."

Neither spoke until they were nearly home, not out of discomfort but
an odd sense of familiarity. It was Marigold who broke the silence.

"Thule, are you sure you don't want to order me to stay away from
other men? You could, you know. You've still got blackmail material on
me."

Thule shook his head, "I'm still blackmailing you, but I can't--not in
good conscience. But..."

"Yes?" asked Marigold eagerly.

"If you want to get involved with another man, I want a chance to talk
you out of it in advance. I knew there was something wrong with Adam,
but I didn't say anything. I wish I had."

Marigold nodded, "Does that apply to men only?"

It seemed to take Thule a moment to catch her meaning. When he did, he
raised an eyebrow, "Do I have to worry about women, too?"

"Worry?" asked Marigold. "No. But, you know my history with Maya. Like
I said, I don't know who I am anymore, but I'm starting to remember
who I was."

"You wouldn't be thinking about getting together with Maya again,
would you?"

"Lord no," said Marigold. "I want to help her, but not that much."

Thule shrugged, "Knock yourself out, then."

They were in Mannsborough when Marigold asked again, "So, where do we
go from here?"

"Are we going anywhere?" Thule asked, emphasizing the pronoun.

"I hope so," Marigold said a little more fervently than she'd meant
to.

Thule gave a shrug, "It's going to take a week before I get really
busy with...other things. I would like nothing better than to spend it
with you."

Marigold blushed, "I would like that, too."

They were in front of the bus station, where Marigold's parents would
pick her up. Neither seemed inclined to let the weekend end. Finally,
Marigold took off her seatbelt and opened the door, "You'll come and
get me for school tomorrow?"

Thule nodded, "I'll see you tomorrow, Little Flower."

Princes of Mannsborough, Part 7 of approximately 23 (last chapter is
22.)
by Vulgar Argot
(rom, MF, reluc, nosex, D/s)

--Vulgar Argot
  http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/VulgarArgot/www
--
"Vulgarity begins when imagination succumbs to the explicit."
  --Doris Day

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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