Wheel of Time – Enslaved by the A'dam 4 By Kylix

M/M, bdsm, NC, whipping, humil, authoritarian

This is kinda like a fanfiction of The Wheel of Time. No copyright infringement intended. As a work of fiction, names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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Glossary

One Power, the Source, Saidin, Saidar – Source of energy which channelers can tap. The Power is drawn from the male and female halves of the Source, Saidin and Saidar respectively. 5 different elements (Air, Water, Earth, Fire, Spirit) can be drawn from the Power, and subsequently woven together to produce tangible effects.

A'dam - a silver collar attached to a bracelet. The collar effectively makes the channeler a slave of the leash-holder.

Damaro / damane – male / female channeler who is enslaved

Marath'damaro / marath'damane – free male / female channeler yet to be enslaved

Morul'dam / sul'dam – male / female leash-holder who controls the damaro

Der'morul'dam / der'sul'dam – senior male / female leash-holder ------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 11

Joran jerked awake.

He blinked. He appeared to be in an unfamiliar bed. A real bed, with quilt covers and soft fluffy pillows.

He was even wearing clothes. Just a loincloth, but it was more than what he had worn to sleep ever since his capture.

His capture! With a start Joran clapped his hands to his neck, shocked to find that the heavy ring of metal around his neck was gone.

Joran entered the Void, and hesitantly seized Saidin.

Sweet delight coursed through him as the One Power rushed through his body. He grabbed all that he could handle, revelling in the sheer joy of just holding the Power, something which had been denied him since his capture.

He was loath to do it, but he forced himself to let go of Saidin and seized it a few more times just to be sure he could.

A tear slipped out of his eyes. He was free.

"Father?"

Joran snapped his head around to the voice, disbelieving.

"Dorian?"

"Father!"

A young man, a boy, really, built so much like Joran, ran across the room and grabbed Joran in a crushing hug.

"Father! I thought I had lost you for sure..." Dorian sobbed disconsolately onto Joran's bare shoulder. Joran hugged his son back, tears falling out of his eyes as he patted his son's back.

"I... let me look at you," Joran choked out. He pulled back and regarded his twenty year old son. Like father, like son. Both sported silvery-grey eyes, dark hair and a chiselled jaw line. But where Joran had a rugged handsome look to him, his son was stunningly handsome on quite another level.

Joran had last seen his son a few weeks before his capture, to encourage him for his Ordeal of the Asha'man. Then, his son had been a nervous young man, unsure of himself and his abilities. Now, much to his pride, all he saw was a confident young man who walked with his shoulders squared, his back straight, and, much to Joran's delight, a dragon pin attached to the lapels of his black coat.

"You passed the Ordeal! That's my son!" Joran pulled his son back into a hug and thumped his back enthusiastically.

"Thanks Father," Dorian said. "But you... I'm so sorry I took so long to rescue you." Dorian wiped tears away from his eyes.

"You- you rescued me?" Joran asked, shocked. "B-but how did you find me?"

"You are my father, I simply made a dowsing device using my blood. It took me a few days to figure out where you had gone, and then I waited for an opportunity to sneak into the Seanchan compound and Traveled back with you."

Joran looked at his son, who was suddenly blushing a deep red and was avoiding his eyes. Abruptly Joran remembered the circumstances under which his son must have found him.

An awkward silence fell.

"I- uh," Joran said sheepishly. "Well this is awkward isn't it. But Dorian, I have to thank you so much. I had given up on escape already..." Joran's eyes clouded over as memories of his capture washed over him. He still couldn't believe he was free.

"Father... I saw how they tortured and humiliated you... don't worry, the Seanchan will pay for this," Dorian said, vengeance twisting his handsome features.

"The Seanchan... you mean mas- I mean, Halvate?" Joran stumbled over his words in a hurry to get them out. For some reason, he felt something akin to panic as he thought about Halvate. "You brought him back too?"

"Yes," Dorian said, surprise evident on his face. "He's in the cells. Why - hey wait!"

"What?" Joran stopped in his tracks and asked impatiently.

"Um father, at least put on a coat... and do you even know where this is or where the cells are?"

Joran was abruptly reminded of his near nakedness. Light, he had gotten so used to his own nakedness that he didn't even notice it anymore. Could ten days of capture really have changed him so much?

"Uh thanks, son. So... where is this? And you have something for me to wear?"

Dorian tossed him some clothes and a standard black Asha'man coat which clearly belonged to him. "We're back at the Black Tower, Father. This is my new quarters."

"Oh." Joran hurriedly shrugged into his son's clothes, marvelling at how well they fitted him, considering that Dorian had still been a lanky teenager not just a few years ago. "Thanks, son. Which cell is he in?"

"The lowest dungeon - hey wait!"

Joran was already gone.

"Joran! Glad you're back with us, man," the Asha'man guard slapped him on his back as Joran hurried into the cells. "I heard your son tell us what you went through, those Seanchan dogs!" He spat on the ground in disgust.

"Hey Marvin, thanks, I still can't believe I'm free..." Joran said as he scanned the cells impatiently. "Say, Marvin, where is the Seanchan?"

Marvin suddenly turned stoic, and from the way the air grew menacing around him, Joran could tell that he had seized Saidin. "Blazes, man, what is that for?!" Joran said in surprise.

"No visitors allowed, Joran, especially you. We know how damaro who are freed act towards their previous masters. I will restrain you if I must," Marvin replied coldly.

Joran sighed. It was worth a try, at least. He knew the rules as well as anybody. Worried about Halvate, Joran asked, "At least tell me he's fine."

Marvin looked away. "He's fine."

"You're lying," Joran growled. "At least send a healer. I don't want him to die."

Marvin sighed and ran a hand through his dark locks. "He's not gonna die, he's just been roughened up a little."

Joran contemplated Marvin for a second, wondering if he could take him on in a fight. He discarded the thought a second later. It would not do to cause a ruckus, even if he was stronger in the Power than Marvin.

"Could you at least let me see him? Use a far-seeing weave or something."

Marvin sighed and stretched out his hand. "The things I do for you man, you owe me a friggin' drink."

"Thanks, I don't know if I still have my possessions, or if that blasted Kieran took everything, but first chance I get I'll treat you to Domani's very best."

"I'll hold you to that," Marvin muttered. "Here he is."

Joran looked into the silvery mirror that Marvin had woven in the air. He gasped.

Halvate was naked and bound in the same kind of pillory that had so tortured Joran before. His balls were even strung up to the ceiling of the dark, dank cell, causing the young man to raise his ankles and put all his weight on his toes.

Joran could still remember keenly the kind of pain he had gone through in the pillory. He watched Halvate's impassive face with amazement. His muscles must have been cramping in that position, and yet Halvate didn't even show a grimace.

"Are those whip marks on him?" Joran exclaimed. Upon closer look in the dark cell, Halvate's body was riddled with whip marks that bled, leaving streaks of blood running down his body.

"Light, who beat him up so badly?! Send a Healer!"

Marvin sighed and unraveled the weave, closing off the view of Halvate. "You know how these Seanchan dogs are treated, he's not the first to have been captured. You know, I would have thought you would want to torture him to death." Marvin regarded Joran suspiciously. "Last I heard, he tortured you every day and night. And parading you around naked in Falme..." Marvin spat on the ground again. "And the worst part is the a'dam and what they do to us."

Joran shook his head. He hated all the torture and humiliation, but he understood that Halvate was just fulfilling his role as a morul'dam. Killing Halvate wouldn't solve the problem, and it wasn't even Halvate's fault that Joran had been captured in the first place. Ever since the Dragon's peace, no Seanchan had captured channelers from the westlands, except for those they received in the black market.

Besides, once Joran had started to obey, Halvate had been nothing but kind and effusive in his affection. Joran still remembered with heated cheeks the mind-blowing orgasm he had prior to being rescued.

"Be that as it may. Still I don't want him permanently injured. Don't we have a retraining policy for morul'dam?"

"Yes, but that's only if he agrees to learn to channel. He doesn't. Besides, we'll have to undergo trial before the Storm Hands before he can start learning."

Joran sighed. "We're not savages, Marvin, we can't stoop to the same level as the Seanchan. Could you just get him Healed? He Healed me when I was hurt, and I'd do it myself if I could heal more than a bruise."

"Your son wouldn't like it, Joran. He's the one who pilloried the Seanchan."

"Dorian? Really?"

"Yeah. Ask him for yourself." Marvin shrugged and cocked his head in the direction of the entrance.

Joran turned to face his son, who strode into the cells, his face angry.

"Father, how can you give that monster any mercy after what he did to you?!"

"Son..." Joran regarded his son's face and hesitated. He wasn't sure why he was sticking up for Halvate now. Perhaps it was that Halvate had Healed him after Hido had whipped him bloody, or the fact that Joran had screamed and shot like a geyser while riding his cock, or even that Joran had felt a rush of protectiveness when he had cuddled the young master in his arms. Regardless, it hurt Joran to see Halvate suffering.

"You know how we learn about damaro who willingly go back to their captors even when freed," Dorian said with a disgusted sneer. "I never knew you'd be like one of them, Father."

"Son, that's not what I meant," Joran tried to explain. "Look, you're right, he tortured me, but Halvate isn't really responsible for it so much as the bloody empire itself. Here we are torturing him because he tortured me - two wrongs don't make a right, Dorian. I thought I taught you better than that."

Dorian clenched his fists. When he spoke, his voice trembled. "I just hate him so much for putting you through all that. I saw it all Father..."

Joran stepped forward to embrace his son. "Dorian... I'd be happy if you're not ashamed of me for giving up... there's no need to seek revenge."

Dorian gave Joran a tight squeeze before letting go and stepping back. "If that's what you want I'll heal him and release him from the pillory."

Joran gave his son a smile of relief and ruffled his hair. "Thank you so much my son. I haven't said it enough, but I'm really proud of you."

Dorian returned the smile, then nodded to Marvin, who let him pass into the dungeon. Five minutes later Dorian returned, looking a little more tired. "It's done."

"Thanks son. Thanks Marvin," Joran said in relief. "A bottle of Domani's finest I promise you. And son, we've yet to celebrate your Ordeal and your rescue of your old man. What say you to a round of drinks and fun about town, man to man?"

Dorian grinned this time. "You're on, father."

Chapter 12

Halvate wrapped the thin excuse of a blanket around his naked body as he shivered in the cold, dank cell.

On the whole, Halvate surmised, the Asha'man were more lenient than he had thought. There were stories of how the morul'dam and sul'dam were viciously tortured by the channelers when captured. That had happened to him, but had only lasted a disappointing half a day before the very man who had put him in the pillory came stomping back to release and Heal him.

Halvate's stomach grumbled. They still hadn't given him any food.

He practised the cool calm indifference that he had learned during his training to ignore the cold and hunger. It helped, somewhat.

He wondered what would happen to him now. He had been told that the westerners had a retraining policy to train anybody who could channel. For morul'dam though, it was either learn to channel or be killed. Those who did learn to channel never stepped foot in Seandar again - they had been corrupted beyond measure by the Westerners' ideals, that they couldn't stand coming back to Seandar as a damaro.

For Halvate though, there was no question what he would choose.

For a moment he regretted the fact that he would no longer have the big muscular Taeru squirming and writhing underneath him as he plowed his ass.

"Hey you Seanchan dog, get up!"

It was the rescuer who had come back again. Halvate had heard him call Taeru 'Father' before he had been knocked out. At first glance both Taeru and this man looked to be more like close brothers instead of father and son, mostly due to the Power slowing down aging. Halvate knew that the earlier you started working with the Power, the earlier the slowing. Which explained why Taeru, with his forty something winters, still looked like a young man fresh out of teenagehood.

"I'm speaking to you, blast it!"

Halvate felt an invisible whip of Air strike him across the back. He flinched, but did not cry out. This was child's play compared to his training.

Still, Halvate slowly got to his feet.

"Drop the blanket, dog! Be glad I Healed you. I'd have ripped your nuts out for doing all that to my father," the man snarled.

Cool, calm, indifference.

Halvate strode out of the cell with the Asha'man following closely behind. He could tell that the man was itching for an excuse to beat him up, but he simply obeyed all his instructions and rough prodding. There was no battle to be won here.

Before long the two of them emerged from the cells into daylight. Halvate blinked as his eyes tried to adjust to the sudden brightness. When it cleared, though, he took in a sudden intake of breath.

He was in what seemed like a village. There were women and children running around, horses and carts weaving their way through the crowds, amidst black-coated Asha'man striding along with purpose. There was a susurrus of voices as Halvate emerged naked from the cells, but other than gently steering the children away, not many people gave him much attention. In the distance stood a tall tower made of black stone, tall and imposing.

Halvate took in the scene with a measure of shock. He hadn't really thought about the lives marath'damaro would have led before being captured, he had always assumed they had popped up from somewhere. The Seanchan teachings had always said that channelers needed the a'dam to remain stable and safe around other people, but here they were living amidst women and children. He even saw an Asha'man kissing his wife.

Halvate jerked back to his senses as he was prodded again by that insufferable man.

"Get going you Seanchan dog!" He growled.

Halvate bit back an annoyed retort. Again, this was neither the time nor place.

The two of them slowly marched to the Black Tower in the distance, one being prodded along, the other taking pleasure at using the Power to whip him lightly, causing Halvate to jump and flinch. Even though Halvate knew that his tormentor was parading his naked body throughout the village in revenge for what he had done to Taeru, Halvate couldn't help but grit his teeth at the incompetence of the man. His lashes had no inventiveness to them, and if his objective was to humiliate Halvate, he had failed terribly.

After what seemed like an interminable amount of time, they finally arrived at the gates of the Tower, where two Asha'man nodded to them and let them pass. As they entered the Tower, the atmosphere grew heavier and more menacing. Halvate wondered if it was because of the structure, or because of the sheer amount of Saidin being channeled here.

They mounted a flight of stairs, before stopping at a set of double doors. The surly man knocked on the doors, which then opened.

"Enter, then, dog," he snarled as he gave Halvate a shove. Halvate stumbled into the room, and stopped short at the display in front of him.

It was a big, rectangular room, the spartan walls made of black stone like much of the Tower. There were sweeping windows lined along one side of the wall, letting in the daylight which illuminated the room. In the middle of the room was the only furnishing in the spartan room - a table where three Asha'man were seated. Standing off the side, to his surprise, was Taeru.

Joran, rather, Halvate reminded himself. He looked smart and neatly coiffed in his black, Asha'man coat, with his hair slicked back, looking sharp and imposing. It was a far cry from the Taeru who had tearfully submitted to Halvate.

Their eyes met for a moment, and Halvate thought he saw worry in Joran's eyes, but Joran turned away and broke eye contact.

"Kneel," came the command. Invisible weaves of Air forced Halvate onto his knees.

"Halvate, training to be a morul'dam, recently captured in the rescue of Joran Vinstone. Charged with crimes of using the a'dam on Joran Vinstone and torturing him using said object," the Asha'man on the right spat.

Halvate could literally feel the disgust and hate rolling off him.

"Nevertheless, the policy of the Black Tower is to train without prejudice any who can channel," the man in the middle said, his gravelly voice tempered with reason. "Do you accept, Halvate Toraeus, to train as a Soldier of the Black Tower?"

Halvate looked up at the man in the middle. Contrary to most of the young-looking men here, the man in the middle had a grey beard trimmed short. Halvate wondered how many years this man would have seen. It was always hard to tell with channelers. A hundred? Two?

"The alternative is death, Halvate. We cannot allow you to return to Seandar after you have taken one of us."

Halvate glanced at Joran, regret settling into his bones. He would miss the feel of Joran's hard muscles and beautiful cries.

"No. I choose death."

It was the honorable thing to do.

Chapter 13

"No!"

Halvate looked up, surprised. That had been Joran.

"Father! What are you doing!"

Joran ignored his son and rushed to Halvate's side. He knelt down beside Halvate and bowed his head in deference.

"Storm Hand Aldurn, I invoke warder rights. I claim full responsibility for this man and make him my warder. As his ward-holder, he is absolved of all his crimes and I will take full ownership of his future actions."

Halvate eyed Joran, wondering why he would put himself on the line for his previous captor and torturer. The Joran he had first captured wouldn't have hesitated to kill him. However Joran resolutely refused to meet his eye.

"Joran," Aldurn said. "There has only been one precedent for such an action, and the Asha'man and his warder both died. Are you quite sure you know what you are doing?"

Halvate wondered what Joran was trying to do. He had no idea what this warder thing was about. In fact, he had never heard of it before.

"Yes, Storm Hand. I have thought about it for a few days now and I've made my decision."

There was a disgusted grunt from Joran's son, and more whispers between the three men seated at the table. Before long, the whispers stopped and Aldurn spoke again.

"It is your decision, Joran Vinstone, to assume the crimes of Halvate Toraeus and to take him as your warder. The Storm Court accepts this decision. You may perform the bond now."

Before Joran could get up, Halvate spoke dryly, "Does my choice not matter in this decision at all?"

Silence befell the court room. Halvate turned to Joran and looked him in the eye.

"Why do you want me to live?"

Joran looked flustered as he grappled for an answer. For a moment, Halvate thought Joran was not going to answer, but he was surprised when Joran opened his mouth.

"I- I don't know," Joran said haltingly. "All I know is that in the ten days we were together as master and slave... I-" Joran broke off, his cheeks reddening. "I- I felt something here-" Joran pointed to his heart. "And if you die, I will feel like part of me has died."

There was absolute silence in the room.

Halvate felt his heart twist at Joran's words. His resolution to die was wavering. "And this warder thing - like a da'covale?"

"Uh - no, not really. It's like, a bond that shares feelings and strength, but it works a little differently on men who can channel, I don't know -"

"I will be your da'covale," Halvate declared. It was the only way to restore his honor if he was denied the final dignity of death. "Master, please accept me as your slave."

Halvate turned to Joran, who looked agape with shock, and prostrated himself on the floor. He shivered as his naked body pressed against the cold stones, but he kept his position. Nobody would say that Halvate Toraeus - no, Halvate Vinstone, rather, since he was property of Joran now - had stained his honor by refusing to die. He had simply been enslaved by his captor.

"N-no, it's not like that -"

"Please accept me as your slave or let me die with honor, master," Halvate interrupted. He couldn't bear the shame of it all. Why was Joran so wishy-washy about this?

Halvate heard a sigh of frustration from Joran. "Fine, get up and let me perform the bond."

Halvate got to his knees and stared at the floor in proper da'covale behavior.

"Look at me." Joran sounded exasperated.

Halvate raised his eyes, but stopped at Joran's chin. It would not do to meet his master's eyes.

"For Creator's sake, look at me in the eyes, blast it!"

Halvate hesitantly met Joran's silvery grey eyes, which were roiling in emotions. Years of matching the a'dam's feelings to damaros' expressions had given Halvate a keen sense of observation, and Halvate thought he could see frustration, worry, concern, maybe even happiness, storming in Joran's eyes.

Joran stretched out a hand and placed it on Halvate's bare chest, right over his heart. Before he could question further, he felt the telltale menace from Joran indicating that he had seized Saidin. A moment later, a warmth settled over his body.

Halvate gasped. His senses were sharper, his body more alive, his blood even thrumming with energy as it pounded through his veins. But above all that, he was suddenly aware of a second presence, a warm, solid presence ensconced in his mind where the a'dam's ball of sensations usually was.

He examined the presence with his mind, using the skills he had developed with the a'dam. He could feel anger, frustration, worry, even a hint of tiredness, but underlying all that, was a deep warmth that Halvate didn't recognize.

With a jerk of realization, Halvate realized that the presence was Joran.

"It is done. The court is adjourned," Aldurn intoned.

The three Asha'man at the table picked themselves up and strode away to the door. Within a few moments, there was only the two of them and Joran's son remaining in the room.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Father."

"Dorian... I do. Really. I can tell he feels the same way as I do."

Dorian only sighed and hugged Joran tightly. "Father... I will always love you no matter what."

Halvate could sense the deep burst of affection in Joran through the bond. To Halvate's discomfort, it felt suspiciously similar to the warmth he had felt from Joran when Joran had looked at him.

"And I you, Dorian. Thank you for rescuing me and bringing Halvate back as well - you have protected me when it should have been I protecting you... you make me so proud, son."

Halvate stared at the ground in passive silence as he let the two men embrace each other. He was a good da'covale and would blend into the surroundings, but he couldn't help but feel a flash of jealousy at the closeness Joran and his son shared.

He heard a pair of boots exit the room, and then a finger under his chin, tipping his head up.

"Master - no, I should call you Halvate now, shouldn't I?"

"You may name me however you want, master," Halvate replied deferentially.

"Light, what is with you Seanchan, I don't understand you sometimes!" Joran suddenly expelled. "First you go all dominant on me, now you're all subservient and passive!"

"I am your da'covale, master," Halvate replied stoically. In truth he hated being submissive, but that was his role now and he would obey.

Joran sighed and collapsed into a sitting position on the floor. "I guess there is no helping it. You are not my da'covale. There is no such thing as da'covale in the Westlands."

"I am Seanchan, and I have to be da'covale or die in honor." Halvate replied, keeping his head down.

"Argh!" Joran cried out in frustration. "Fine. As you wish. Follow me, I need to get you clothed at least. Wear this for now."

Halvate stiffened as Joran shrugged out of his coat and handed it to him.

"Da'covale do not wear clothes, master. We are permitted only the transparent sokrun, or we have to be naked. Only in winter can we wear a coat, and it is not winter here."

Belatedly, Halvate realized that he had just lectured his master. "With my utmost respect, master." He prostrated himself on the floor again, forehead to the ground.

"Halvate, stop this ridiculousness at once. I can tell you're not happy being a da'covale - you can't lie through the bond. I'm not asking you to be da'covale. I am asking you to be my warder."

Halvate raised his head warily and regarded Joran's chin. "What is warder, master?"

"Well," Joran replied as he sat back down and leaned an elbow thoughtfully on his knee. "With other Asha'man they usually bond their wives. Some have bonded other Aes Sedai, who are also women, but they usually end up being lovers as well. I don't think I know of an Asha'man bonding another man who is not his lover."

Halvate's eyes grew round. When Joran spoke of bonding, there had been an undercurrent of affection that had warmed up the bond. If that was what he meant...

"For the Aes Sedai warders are just like their protectors, a man who can physically protect them while they wield the Power. For Asha'man, since we usually travel and operate in small teams, we don't have the same need. Besides, most men are uncomfortable being so intimate with other men." Joran hesitated for a second, and then plunged onwards. "So for us, the bond is primarily used to share feelings and emotions with our lovers."

Joran tipped Halvate's chin up and looked at him seriously.

"I think you understand what is a warder now."

Shivers ran down Halvate's spine.

Joran sighed in exasperation as he flopped onto his bed.

He was in his own quarters now at the Black Tower. Well, Black Village, rather, as only the highest ranking Asha'man had quarters within the Tower. When Joran had earned his dragon pin, he had been assigned a small hut near the Tower, where he had brought up Dorian with the help of the village women. Now that his son had become an Asha'man himself, Dorian had been assigned a cottage nearby. That had been where Joran had woken up after his rescue.

Joran raised his head to look at the kneeling Halvate at the corner of the room, and then thumped his head back down again.

The ex-morul'dam was being obtuse on purpose.

A week had passed since Joran had explicitly told him that he considered Halvate a lover and not a slave. Since then, Halvate had done nothing but insist on the proper decorum as a da'covale.

Which, according to his warped mind, meant shaving his entire body and staying naked all day while doing all the menial chores in the hut.

Like all Asha'man, Joran had been trained to do all his chores with the Power, and could have easily done everything from his bed. And much faster too. Yet Halvate had insisted on doing everything while flaunting flagrantly his lithe, young body. It had become a village spectacle to see the naked young man washing Joran's clothes every morning, or sweeping his yard, or watering his plants, or whatever.

What was most intriguing though was the strange body dance that he had done every dawn when the day broke. Halvate had explained that that was how most Seanchan morul'dam kept themselves fit, but to do it naked and in the front yard in full view of everyone? It was disturbingly sexy and showed off Halvate's boyish muscles to great effect.

That man had completely no understanding of modesty. And Joran wanted to beat up everyone who was ogling Halvate.

Joran sighed again. Well, he could force Halvate not to do it, but that would mean going back on his word that Halvate was not a slave. What a maddening dilemna!

"Come here, Halvate."

"Yes master."

There was a sound of shuffling. Joran raised his head only to realize that instead of walking like a normal person, Halvate was crawling across the room towards him.

Joran wanted to scream in frustration.

"I am here master."

Joran could feel Halvate's mild annoyance through the bond, which irritated him. He didn't know why Halvate insisted on being a slave even though he clearly hated it, but it was infuriating.

"I've had enough of your stupid games," Joran snarled as he jumped to his feet. "You want to be a slave? You want to submit? Alright you have your wish. I'm beyond caring now."

Joran seized Saidin and strung up Halvate by his wrists in the air. He then quickly stripped off his clothing, revealing his erect cock in all its glory.

"One whole week I've been waiting for you to snap out of it and make love to me, to make me squirm and scream out your name as I ride your hard cock," Joran growled at Halvate's startled face. "I'm tired of playing your games. I'm bloody frustrated and I'm going to take your sorry ass right here and now."

Tying off the shackles of Air around Halvate's wrists, Joran then fashioned a quick weave of Water and Earth around his cock to lubricate it, and let go of Saidin. He grabbed Halvate's legs and hooked them up over his arms as he positioned Halvate's hole over his erect cock.

"Call me master again and beg me for my cock," Joran challenged.

Joran could feel Halvate's distaste spike through the bond as he responded with a dispassionate "Master please let me have your cock." It only made Joran angrier. With a snarl, Joran dropped Halvate onto his 11 inch hard rod.

Halvate screamed as Joran's massive rod plunged in all the way to the hilt. Joran winced as his own hole twinged in pain from the bond. Blast, Joran had forgotten that the bond worked both ways unlike the a'dam. More gently this time, Joran lifted Halvate and thrust in again.

"Blast you, Halvate," Joran spat out as he thrust in and out of Halvate's tight hole. "You clearly don't like being a slave. I don't want you as a slave. What is wrong with you?!"

All his anger and frustration bottled up over the week spilled out as he thrust into the young man hanging in the air by his wrists. Through the bond, Joran could feel the damage he was causing to the recalcitrant youth's ass - at the same time, there was a sweet clenching inside everytime he thrust into Halvate. Before long, the pain had disappeared, leaving behind the exquisite shared pleasure in their cocks and asses.

Joran stared at Halvate, who had remained stoically silent, even though he was flushed and breathing hard from Joran's tool plunging away at his hole. Joran couldn't quite discern what emotions his one-time master was feeling. The bond was saturated with their shared pleasure, and as Joran picked up the pace, the bond literally hummed as pleasure started building up in their bodies.

"Blast it!" Seizing saidin, Joran released the shackles of Air and carried the smaller youth to the bed, where he dumped Halvate. Positioning himself between Halvate's legs, Joran thrust into Halvate again.

Halvate arched his back and gasped, but said nothing as he took the plowing like a soldier. Frustrated from the lack of response from Halvate, Joran pulled out and shook Halvate's shoulders roughly.

"What is wrong with you!" He shouted into Halvate's flinching face. "All I want is for you to be like the master who cuddled me when I was cold; the master who disciplined me when I was naughty; the master who Healed me when I was hurt. Not this - this sad travesty of a slave! I can tell you hate it!"

Joran collapsed beside the silent youth and said brokenly, "You're hurting me, Halvate."

There was silence for a long moment.

"Master." Halvate slowly sat up and knelt on the bed, his head again respectfully bowed. "May I have your permission to explain?"

Joran looked at Halvate, and sensed an undercurrent of sadness through the bond. Biting back a retort, Joran simply nodded his head.

"Go on."

Chapter 14

It was a long moment before Halvate spoke. Joran's cock had long deflated by then, but he waited patiently for Halvate to speak.

"Damaro are considered little more than animals in Seandar. Like with dogs, it is considered shameful to have sex with damaro or damane.

"I lied when I told you that morul'dam might consider entering their damaro to grant them release. In truth, all you need is permission from the morul'dam and you would be able to obtain release with your own hand. It is shameful to engage in sexual acts with your damaro."

Joran opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when Halvate raised his palm. "You are the first damaro I have trained by myself. It was also the first time I was linked with a damaro without supervision. You see, a student of the a'dam must always be supervised when wearing the bracelet.

"I simply couldn't resist when we were alone in our room. You scream so beautifully and your body makes me heat up and my cock harden. I wanted to take you the instant I saw you, but I tried so hard to resist. You were all I could think about for so long, I don't know if you noticed that when you were naked you were always hard and dripping because of my own reaction to you. Everytime I adjusted myself in my pants you would feel it through the a'dam."

Joran drew in a sharp intake of breath. And he had thought that Halvate had been teasing him on purpose!

"That night, my original plan was to compel you to forget my role in your orgasm. Not many are able to do it, but I have exceptional skill with the a'dam. However your son interfered before I could do anything.

"When your son rescued you and took me along with you, I knew I only had two real choices. To die in honor, or to become da'covale. If I choose neither, I will bring shame to my name and family. But above all that, if it is known that I had become a lover to a marath'damaro, I will forever stain my family name and they will never be able to rise in their station.

"Master... please, I beg of you, do not make my situation worse than it already is. In the world today where everybody can Travel everywhere, news of my capture will surely have reached Seandar. If I am not da'covale, my family will suffer. As it is, I believe that soon there will be a Seanchan delegation demanding us to return as damaro.

Joran suddenly sat straight up. "What?!"

"Your son did not do any hopping or Skimming when he brought us back. He simply Travelled straight to the Black Tower. A skilled tracker can read the destination of the weave. I would expect the delegation to arrive today or tomorrow."

"That idiot!" Joran cried as he jumped out of bed and rushed to put on his clothes. "Light and ashes, I've got to tell the Storm Hand-"

"There is no need to. They are already here," a voice said dryly. Joran turned to find that his door was ajar and Storm Hand Aldurn who oversaw the trial standing in his doorway. "Dress yourself quickly and report to the Dragon Court." Aldurn turned and strode back through his gateway, which winked out the instant he was through.

"Bloody ashes, what am I going to do?"

The door creaked and cut off whatever the voice was saying as Joran hurried into the court, a naked Halvate following meekly behind him. The Dragon Court, unlike the spartan Storm Court, was the main reception area used to receive foreign dignitaries. As Joran entered the imposing hall, he felt a little humbled. Banners and drapes decorated the formidable black stone walls, and intricate designs carved onto the pillars and ceiling glistened as the sunlight streaming through the strained glass windows at the sides fell on them.

What was most imposing though was a huge tapestry hanging at the back wall behind the M'Hael's seat, a true marvel of art and the One Power combined. It was a moving reenactment of the Last Battle at the Fields of Merrilor, and standing in the forefront of it all, the Dragon Reborn, holding up Callandor which blazed like a pillar of light.

It was a reminder of the very purpose of the Asha'man and their origins, and the man who had cleansed Saidin so that male channelers would no longer go mad.

Joran took strength in Callandor's light and settled himself. He was an Asha'man, not a damaro, and he would not be collared again.

"I see you are indeed harboring our fugitives."

It was der'morul'dam Hido.

He was seated in a chair in front of the M'Hael's seat, accompanied by a collared damaro whom Joran didn't recognize and some Seanchan guards. The Seanchan der'morul'dam stuck out sorely amongst the black-robed Asha'man in his blue morul'dam tunic and the silver a'dam between his damaro and him. He stared at the two of them dispassionately as they entered.

Joran felt a frisson of fear as the memory of his whipping swam back into mind. Unlike Halvate's punishments with the a'dam, Joran had truly feared for his cock when Hido had thrashed it with his bull whip.

He swallowed hard and mastered his fear. He was not collared now, but Joran surreptitiously touched his neck just to be sure.

"They are not fugitives," Aldurn explained patiently. He was seated facing Hido, and a small section of Asha'man behind him. Joran recognized his son and Marvin amongst them, and smiled. They would have his back for sure. "Joran has always been an Asha'man and has recently taken on Halvate as a warder. Under the Dragon's Peace, you are not allowed to capture any channelers on this side of the continent."

"Under the Dragon's Peace," Hido retorted, "You are also obligated to return all Seanchan channelers. Both of them are Seanchan channelers." He eyed the naked Halvate critically with a frown, although he did not comment.

"Halvate does not channel, and cannot be counted as a channeler. Joran is evidently not Seanchan nor Seanchan-raised."

Hido raised his eyebrows. "He does not channel?" He pointed at the kneeling Halvate.

"No, he is Joran's da'covale and as far as I know has not learned how to touch Saidin." Aldurn turned to Joran. "Joran, do you confirm?"

Joran nodded and said respectfully, "Yes Storm Hand." There was a flux of emotions from Halvate, but Joran ignored it.

Hido appeared flummoxed for a moment, but shook himself and produced another a'dam from his robe. The atmosphere grew foreboding as every Asha'man in the room glared at the hated object in disgust.

Hido continued blithely, "Then I'm sure you do not refuse that I test Halvate myself. After all I cannot just take your word for it."

Aldurn's face grew cold. "I am the Storm Hand of the Water Brigade in the Court of Generals in the Black Tower, second-in-command to the M'Hael himself. How dare you suggest that I'm lying?"

Joran shivered as the air around Aldurn grew even heavier and more menacing. It wasn't the Power - it was just simply his presence. Joran could tell that Hido was a little cowed but he did an impressive job of hiding it.

"I still need to check for myself," Hido stated adamantly.

Aldurn glanced at Joran, who shrugged. Joran couldn't even get Halvate to wear some clothes, much less try to learn to channel.

"Fine," Aldurn concurred. "But only to check. We will free him afterwards."

Hido looked at Halvate expectantly and tapped his feet. "Come here, Halvate."

Halvate shot Joran a hesitant look before he crawled forward. Joran felt a stab of helplessness as he watched the naked Halvate crawl across the room under the eyes of everyone. He wanted to kick Halvate and ask him to walk proudly like a man, but after his explanation just now Joran thought he understood the Seanchan a bit more now. Blast the Seanchan and their inhuman ways!

When Halvate reached the der'morul'dam, he got to his knees and bared his neck. Joran could feel fear in Halvate through their bond, and shivered in sympathy.

Hido closed the a'dam around Halvate's neck. "Assume the Void."

There was quiet for a moment, before Hido's face fell. "You cannot sense the Source." Joran felt an inexplicable sense of relief wash through Halvate.

A weave of air wrapped around the a'dam and popped it open. It was Aldurn who had released the a'dam.

"That's enough. You have confirmed that he cannot channel. He is Joran's property and will remain with him. Are you quite done now?"

Hido drew himself up and replied haughtily, "I would like a word in private with these two before I go."

Aldurn looked about to bite off an impatient retort, but Joran, sensing the hopeful yearning within Halvate, interrupted. "Storm Hand, please allow us this moment."

Aldurn shot Joran a searching look and sighed. He nodded his head. "I indulge you too much Joran, use an alcove to the right. But alone. That means no guards and no damaro." He gave the cowering damaro a distasteful glance.

Hido nodded stiffly and unclasped the bracelet from his wrist, handing it to his damaro. He strode over confidently to an alcove that was slightly recessed so that they were still in view of Aldurn, but far away enough that they had some privacy. Joran and Halvate had no choice but to follow the stout der'morul'dam.

"Guard us against eavesdropping, Joran," Hido barked when they reached the alcove. Joran, surprised that he would use his real name, complied.

"It's done."

"Good. What I'm going to say now is not going to be repeated ever, not to anyone. Am I clear?"

Joran nodded warily. Even though Joran had spent the better part of a day being lashed and whipped by this harsh taskmaster, he didn't really know Hido that well.

"First, Halvate has already touched the Source before."

Joran gasped. He glared at Halvate, who looked down at the floor in shame.

"It was while you were giving lessons to the new recruits, master. I couldn't help it, I was so angry. It was only for an instant, but..."

Joran tried to recall when that was. Since his rescue, he had been given a week of rest before he had been assigned some boring classes with recruits to "get his gears moving." But he hadn't taught many of them.

Then he recalled one afternoon where the recruits had been making snide comments about Halvate's nakedness. Joran recalled blowing up at them and assigning them chores in the stables. He didn't realize that Halvate had overheard.

"So you're going to take him back as a damaro?" Once someone had touched the Source, he would keep on touching it until it consumed him. There was no going back now for Halvate.

Hido shook his head. "No. I am going to report that Halvate has been made da'covale and that you had disappeared."

Joran stared at the der'morul'dam in slackjawed surprise. He could feel Halvate mirroring his shock. "Why?"

Hido looked away, silent. It was Halvate who spoke.

"You can also channel," Halvate said with certainty. He sounded betrayed.

Hido sighed. "You guessed right, young Halvate. How did you know?"

"It was just a hunch... there was a faint resonance when you put the a'dam on me. It was faint, but it felt like those of damaro..."

Hido chuckled. "You are really a master of the a'dam, my boy. In my forty years of wielding the a'dam nobody has ever told me he felt a resonance in me before."

"But I don't understand..." Halvate choked out. "Wh- how?"

Hido shook his head. "It was pure foolishness on my part. A foolishness of love..."

Joran and Halvate remained silent, waiting for Hido to explain.

"Twenty years ago, I fell in love with an Asha'man while traveling the world. He could tell I was a morul'dam, but since I was not in Seanchan territories and had no a'dam, I was of no threat to him. We lived together for a month, arguing about the a'dam by day and being intimate by night. One day, while he was trying to show me the benefits of an angreal, I suddenly felt a resonance and found myself tumbling in the rapid torrent that is Saidin.

"He helped me control Saidin, and there was no going back after that. Till now I do not know why I resonated that day, but he was convinced it was because I secretly wanted to channel. I had no arguments for that. But I knew I had to return to Seandar and turn myself in as a damaro.

"He stopped me and convinced me to train under him to show that the a'dam is not necessary. Of course by 'convinced', I meant he tied me up and made slow love to me until I caved. In the period of a month, I learned how to control Saidin and make simple weaves. By then, all that I thought I knew about the a'dam had been overthrown.

"When I insisted on returning to Seandar, he made a pact with me. He would implement a retraining policy for all captured morul'dam in the Black Tower, and I would work to free the collared Westlanders sold in the black market."

Joran gasped in recognition. "Aldurn!"

Hido nodded. "We had a pact for all these years... so now you understand why."

Joran shared a look of shock with Halvate. He would never have guessed from their previous exchange that the two knew each other, much less have a pact to save the collared channelers and captured morul'dam.

Joran still had a point he didn't understand. "But you whipped me so hard I thought you were going to cut off my cock. How was that to free me?"

Hido shook his head sadly. "I had to. You were already surrendering to the a'dam and losing yourself. I had to make you doubt your decision to submit. Besides, I knew that Halvate would get you Healed. His attraction to you was obvious. Which was also why I had to engineer your escape as soon as possible, because you were going to get Halvate into trouble. Do you honestly think it is so easy to infiltrate a Seanchan compound with hundreds of channelers? I had to suppress the gateway alarm in Halvate's room, or else your son would have also been captured."

Joran looked at Hido and felt a wave of gratitude fill in him. "I don't know what to say..."

Halvate knelt down and bent over to press his forehead against the ground. "I owe you my life, der'morul'dam Hido. I am sorry I doubted you before."

Hido knelt down and lifted Halvate up. "It is no trouble. The a'dam is hurting the Empire more than it helps, and I am always glad to see another discover the joys of Channeling. You have a strong Talent for the mind arts, it would be a pity for it to go to waste. I will report to your family that you have been made da'covale and have your name struck from their records. Whatever you do from now on will have no bearing on their status."

Hido glanced at Joran before continuing, "And one more thing, Halvate. You may be da'covale, but not da'covale to a Seanchan. Let your master decide how you should live your life. If it's one thing I learnt from Aldurn, it is that these Westlanders do not have any appreciation for Seanchan traditions." He winked at Halvate. "And I also think that he is jealous of sharing your body with everybody who can see it."

"Hey!" Joran retorted without any heat. In truth, he was grateful for Hido's advice. Hopefully Halvate would take it to heart and return to his normal self.

"I will, der'morul'dam." A tear ran down Halvate's cheeks as the two men hugged. Joran stood by awkwardly as he watched, feeling Halvate's emotions come to a boil. In time, the two Seanchan separated, and Hido shook Joran's hand gruffly.

"Take care of young Halvate, he will need guidance in your ways. He is only a young man, stubborn in his thinking, but fragile all the same. But I think you already know that."

Joran smiled wryly and nodded his head.

"One last thing. If you come across another morul'dam or collared Westlander who needs help, do not hesitate to lend a hand. It would make Aldurn's and my work all the more worthwhile if you pay it forward."

"I- we will, der'morul'dam," Joran said, his voice thickening with emotion. Next to him, Halvate got to his feet and took Joran's hand. He gave Joran a squeeze of affection, making Joran burst with happiness.

"Let's go back and face my lover, shall we? By the Empress, he has got some impressive acting skills," Hido chuckled as he led the way out. "I think I can look forward to a good pounding tonight."

Joran only smiled.