{"id":3139,"date":"2019-01-05T23:23:53","date_gmt":"2019-01-06T04:23:53","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.beydeckard.com\/blog\/?p=3139"},"modified":"2022-08-04T16:15:23","modified_gmt":"2022-08-04T20:15:23","slug":"taden-and-i-part-1","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/beydeckard.com\/blog\/taden-and-i-part-1\/","title":{"rendered":"Taden and I &#8211; Part 1"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p><em>Author\u2019s Note:<br>This is an unedited, ongoing serial that may eventually be published in novel form. Plot\/characters\/elements are  subject to change as it is being written. <strong>Read at your own discretion and take note of story tags below<\/strong>.<\/em><br><br><strong>Genre:<\/strong> Historical Fantasy <br><strong>Tags:<\/strong> general abuse, sex acts, age gap, bisexual, master\/servant, angst, archaic terminology\/style<\/p>\n\n\n<ul id=\"menu-taden\" class=\"menu\"><li id=\"menu-item-4648\" class=\"menu-item menu-item-type-custom menu-item-object-custom menu-item-4648\"><a href=\"https:\/\/beydeckard.com\/blog\/taden-and-i-part-1\/\">Part 1<\/a><\/li>\n<li id=\"menu-item-4649\" class=\"menu-item menu-item-type-custom menu-item-object-custom menu-item-4649\"><a href=\"https:\/\/beydeckard.com\/blog\/taden-and-i-part-2\/\">Part 2<\/a><\/li>\n<li id=\"menu-item-4650\" class=\"menu-item menu-item-type-custom menu-item-object-custom menu-item-4650\"><a href=\"https:\/\/beydeckard.com\/blog\/taden-and-i-part-3\/\">Part 3<\/a><\/li>\n<\/ul>\n\n\n\n<hr class=\"wp-block-separator has-css-opacity\"\/>\n\n\n\n<p>Taden was my father\u2019s body servant and guard, and my favourite person in the entire world. He was fascinating\u2014a foreigner from a faraway land of volcanos and long nights. A warrior among his people. A battle-hardened man\u2026 and as fond of me as I was of him. As a young child, Taden dandled me on his knee and would let me run my hands softly over the planes of his face. Oh, his face intrigued me\u2014it was all hard angles and scars, skin so much paler than mine and eyes as black as river stones. I could see myself reflected in them as I traced the line of his stubbled cheek, fascinated by the mix of sharp black and white hairs that prickled my fingertips. When I stroked his jaw with the palm of my hand, the rasping sound delighted me. Taden was the only man I had ever seen with a bare face\u2014my father and all other men I knew wore thick, long beards.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I thought the best part of his face was his nose. It was large but much longer than it was wide, with a bump halfway down it like a knuckle. At the tip of Taden\u2019s nose where it was bracketed by thin, flared nostrils, there was a very shallow divot, right in the centre. I liked to place my finger gently on the divot because it was <em>exactly<\/em> the right size, as though it were my fingertip that had left the impression. Taden always smiled when I did it and it filled me with happiness that we shared this quiet bond of love.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I was ten, the last time I sat upon his knees. Still a boy, but on the cusp of manhood, that brief time that exists when innocence of imagination first comes into conflict with the reality of the world. Across the room, my father spoke in a hushed yet decisive voice to his ministers while I sat in Taden\u2019s lap as I always had, waiting for the endless meeting to adjourn so I could be free to run and play for the afternoon. Taden and I never spoke as we sat. It was my father\u2019s wish that I listen in silence so that I may learn to rule in his stead one day\u2026 but I rarely heard a word that was said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>That particular day, I was drawn to Taden\u2019s lips, the way they curved, the way the top one nearly blended with the skin above it while the bottom one had such a sharply defined line. I touched the middle of his bottom lip and let my finger fall from its jutting cliff to land on the prickled brushland of his broad chin. He laughed silently at my childish antics, the corners of his eyes deeply creased, so I did it again. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The third time my finger took the plunge, I started from his top lip, stroking slowly down, but before I reached the outcrop of his bottom lip, his tongue came out to touch my fingertip. The secret little taste <em>thrilled<\/em> me to my very core, and like a blind man who suddenly sees, things were forever changed from that moment. I sat up, my heart pounding, staring up at him. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I don\u2019t recall now whether I wanted him to reach beneath my robes to cup my small manhood in his rough hand\u2014I think those thoughts were still far away in time\u2014but I suddenly ached for <em>something<\/em>. I was so young my blade had not yet been tempered by the heat of a woman, and though I knew what the act <em>was<\/em>, it had never taken hold in my imagination. But right then, with Taden, I began to understand desire.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I don\u2019t know what my father witnessed or if he would even have understood the significance of what had just taken place. Perhaps he saw something in my face\u2014my cheeks felt hot, as if they\u2019d been slapped\u2014or maybe the meeting with his ministers had reached a topic unsuitable to my young ears, but Father chose that exact moment to abruptly dismiss me from his presence. Only me, not Taden. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Banished from the room, I stood with my back against the red doors, my stomach fluttering and my knees strangely weak, newly-acquainted with desire\u2019s most common cousin, shame, though nothing had transpired between Taden and I to cause it.<br><br><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The next day, I entered my father's chambers brimming with uncommon eagerness only to find the chair Taden and I had always shared to be empty. My father pointed to it and I sat, my heart in my throat. Taden stood next to one of the big windows, a straight-backed sentinel, his eyes looking at nothing. I stared and stared, willing him to acknowledge me with a glance, a smile, anything to show that he still loved me, but my mind could not budge him from his vigilance. Had my father said something to him? Had Taden deemed his own actions of the previous day inappropriate? Was I simply too old to be dandled on the knee of my father\u2019s man? I could barely sleep that night, wracked with equal parts guilt, desire, and deep sadness for the loss of my dearest friend.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Four days later I was sent away to my mother\u2019s family in the lowlands to learn the ways of diplomacy, trade, lawmaking, and the art of war. It was customary for young lords and ladies to become wards of an allied house until they came of age, but I couldn\u2019t help but feel that in my case it was rather abrupt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>+++<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I was bare-chested and half-lidded, reclining on a prickling mound of hay with my most recent conquest when I received news of my father\u2019s death. I was always desperate for whatever privacy I could claim as my own, and the hayloft in the southernmost barn was the best I could find. I gave the grooms and cottars plenty of coins to keep my hiding space secret from my aunt and uncle, so I was astonished when a messenger came clambering up the wooden ladder to my makeshift bower.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cWhat are you doing here?\u201d I asked. Robbe began to straighten, but I held the back of his head, keeping him in place. The messenger, a plain young woman with beautiful blue eyes, stared at the scribe with his face buried in my lap for a second before clearing her throat. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cMy lord, you\u2019re requested in the council room,\u201d she said,\nher expression carefully neutral.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cCan it wait? As you can see, I\u2019m not quite done yet.\u201d I was\nbeing flippant out of annoyance. In truth it was doubtful I\u2019d be able to finish\nwhat I\u2019d started. The messenger\u2019s intrusion and my natural curiosity were\nproving too much of a distraction\u2014there was barely any hardness left for Robbe\u2019s\nmouth to suckle, though he was still valiantly trying to resurrect my interest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m afraid it\u2019s urgent, my lord,\u201d she said, her voice\nfaint.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I sighed, gently moving Robbe aside. \u201cDuty calls, my dear.\u201d Smiling,\nI cupped his cheek and winked. \u201cBut don\u2019t roam far.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>To her credit, the messenger\u2019s eyes never strayed from the\nempty air beside my head as I stood in front of her, purposefully repacking my\ngoods into my trousers. Bowing, I gestured to the ladder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cAfter you, m\u2019lady,\u201d I said in jest. This time I was rewarded with a tiny bloom in her cheeks. When she turned, I noticed she did have rather shapely legs. I grinned, thinking that perhaps I would try enticing her to visit my hayloft again under different circumstances. Robbe would be jealous, but that only meant he would try to please me even harder.<br><br><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>My aunt and uncle sat at the head of the long table in the\ncouncil chamber. As I sauntered closer, I casually plucked a pear from the bowl\nin the centre, taking a bite as I came to a stop in front of them. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYou summoned me?\u201d I asked, chewing loudly as I rested my\nelbow on the high back of an empty chair. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>They shared a rather tense and somber glance, which put my show of impudence to an abrupt end. I straightened, my pulse quick. My aunt was blanched pale.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cWhat happened?\u201d I stepped closer, clasping my aunt\u2019s\noutstretched hand. \u201cTell me. What was the message? Is it my mother?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYour mother is well, my dear boy,\u201d she replied, placing her other hand on top of mine. She looked to her husband to convey the message.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>My uncle cleared his throat, his great shaggy beard quivering\nat its pointed tip as he stared hard at me. \u201cYour father has passed.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>For a moment I could do nothing, as if I were a little\nstatuette of wood, then I swallowed hard, my heart beating fast. \u201cMy father\u2026\nwhen?\u201d I had not seen my father in years, but we regularly corresponded\u2014letters\noften filled with admonishments over my growing\u2026 <em>reputation<\/em>. \u201cI only just received a note from him three days ago.\nHe never mentioned he was in ill-health.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cIt was sudden,\u201d my aunt explained, squeezing my hand. \u201cI\u2019m\nso very sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I was still wide-eyed, gaping like an imbecile over the\nshocking news, but she mistook my reaction for one of grief. I felt no grief over\nthe death of my father. I barely knew the man, and though I respected him, I\ndid not love him. My stupor was grounded in my realization that I would become\nlord of my father\u2019s estate far sooner than I\u2019d imagined.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cAm I\u2026 to go home, then? For good, I mean?\u201d I asked quietly.\n\u201cOr shall Mother rule in my stead until I come of age?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Another glance was shared by my guardians.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYour aunt and I, ah, believe that your education here is\ncomplete,\u201d said my uncle, his dark brows meeting over the bridge of his nose. \u201cAnd\nthat perhaps it would be best for you to return home, regardless of\u2026 questions\nof rulership. It would think it a welcome change of, ah, scenery, for you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I could see the insinuation of his words in the way he stared at me. It was a <em>long<\/em> moment in silence. Obviously, they were tired of my antics and found it fortuitous that I had reason to leave their guardianship early. I\u2019d evidently littered their estate with too many broken hearts and swollen bellies for their liking.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I smirked, feeling the sting of insult, but bowed politely. \u201cAs you wish, Uncle.\u201d I kissed my aunt\u2019s soft cheek and took a step back. \u201cI thank you both for taking such good care of me and for being so kind. I\u2019ll leave as soon as I\u2019ve packed.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Sitting up straight in her chair, my aunt gave her husband a\nstartled look before smiling at me in a kindly fashion. \u201cYou don\u2019t have to leave\nso precipitously\u2014we would be happy to keep you until you\u2019re entirely prepared\nto go.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI thank you, Auntie, but I should get back to Mother as\nsoon as I can,\u201d I said, my thanks genuine even though I could see she was pleased\nwith my response. It hurt a bit, knowing they were so glad to see me go\u2014the\ngleeful demon on my shoulder suggested that perhaps another bastard in their\nmidst would be the perfect parting gift for their happy ousting of me. With\nthat in mind, I bowed again, making my leave, then caught the sleeve of the\nmessenger girl waiting outside the council room door. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cAh\u2026 I\u2019m pleased you\u2019re still here,\u201d I said, smiling down at\nher. \u201cI was hoping to catch you\u2026 you see, you\u2019ve positively enchanted me with those\nbeautiful blue eyes of yours. Let me see\u2026\u201d I drew her into a beam of sunlight\nslanting down from the windowed clerestory. \u201cJust lovely.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cTh-thank you, my lord,\u201d the young woman responded, her pale\neyelashes trembling in the bright light.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cPlease\u2026 you can call me by my name,\u201d I replied, crooking my\nfinger under her chin to tilt her head back further. \u201cYou know my name, don\u2019t\nyou?\u201d I grinned wide. \u201cHave you gone mute?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cNo\u2026 my lor\u2014\u201d she said, her cheeks going very pink as she stared\nup at me. \u201cNo, um, <em>Wulfsere<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s better,\u201d I said, placing my hand in the small of her\nback to guide her down the arcade. \u201cNow, I have something to show you\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>+++<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The castle hadn\u2019t truly changed in the seven years of my\nabsence\u2014the same tapestries hung on the same old smoke-stained walls, the same dark\nwood furniture sat exactly where they had in the past\u2014but now everything seemed\nsomehow\u2026 <em>smaller<\/em>. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I nodded politely to the servants I recognized while surreptitiously assessing the ones that I didn\u2019t. There were a few pretty faces that pleased me, but not as many as I would have liked. Everyone, from the lowest scullions to the physicians were clothed in red. I felt out of place in my gold and green, but I hadn\u2019t had the foresight nor the time to acquire a proper suit of mourning. The old seneschal clasped my arm as I passed him, whispering his condolences, but I didn\u2019t hear his words. My vision was firmly affixed to the man standing next to my mother, a man I\u2019d never forgotten yet never dared hope to see again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Taden had been a man in his prime the last time I\u2019d perched in his lap, but my imagination had aged him over the years\u2014after all, I\u2019d been away nearly as long as I had known him. I now realized that the near-half of my life was a mere morsel of his. Scrutinizing Taden standing tall and lean in his dark-red gambeson and riding trousers, he looked as sound and stalwart as the day I had left. I was surprised to see I was of height with him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Suddenly, I felt shy, shifting my gaze to my mother\u2019s sorrowful\ngreen eyes instead. I took her cold hand in mine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cMother, I\u2019m so sorry about Father,\u201d I said, trying to make my voice sombre in a show of maturity. I could not stop my face from flushing, thinking about Taden standing so close\u2026 Was he looking at me? I didn\u2019t dare turn my eyes to check.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cBless his soul, he is at rest,\u201d said my mother in a voice far fainter than I remembered. I had to push my curiosity about the man at her side to the back of my mind\u2014the woman was bleached from exhaustion and sadness and it was my foremost duty to see her well.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I took her arm and faced those assembled, lifting my chin in a way I hoped conveyed authority. \u201cStoke the fires\u2026 it\u2019s glacial in here. Bring a meal of hot broth, cheese, and bread to my mother\u2019s chambers\u2026 and you\u201d\u2014I pointed to the man I recognized as the ewerer\u2014\u201cfetch hot water for a bath.\u201d I shook my head. \u201cNo, make that two baths.\u201d I needed one as well to rid myself of the itchy sweat and road dust coating my skin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The servants scrambled to obey and I began to lead my mother towards her chambers\u2026 then paused, bracing myself because I could put it off no longer\u2014my eyes thirsted for another look. I turned to my deceased father\u2019s body servant and guard and nodded to him in greeting. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cTaden,\u201d I said quietly. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>He gazed at me for a moment before returning the nod. \u201cWelcome home, my lord.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I quickly averted my eyes lest I give away the joy erupting within me. The quiet, steadfast love in the man\u2019s black eyes was like water filling a pail that had gone long empty; a balm for a wound that hadn\u2019t been cured by the ministrations of few dozen eager bodies. I was crying and leaping on the inside, struggling to make sense of my mother\u2019s murmurs as we navigated the dark passageways, only remembering to nod when she paused and hoping my show of grief hid the chorus singing in my mind: <em>Home. I am home. And Taden loves me still.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>+++<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I lay on my father\u2019s bed in my father\u2019s chambers, both now mine in inheritance, trying to dredge up the memories of my youth\u2026 what was fiction and what was true memory? I kept going back to the image of my fingers on Taden\u2019s mouth. Had that <em>really<\/em> happened? And, if it had, had Taden simply been playing along with a child\u2019s game? Had he licked me to surprise or tease me or disgust me? Had my imagination created something out of nothing? I pressed my hands hard against my closed eyelids, willing my memory to paint clearer pictures for me\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cMy lord.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I sat up, startled. I hadn\u2019t heard even a whisper of footfalls on the stone floor. Taden stood a few feet from the bed, his hands clasped in front of him and his head bowed. I\u2019d seen him take the same posture with my father a thousand times, and it bothered me that he should be so formal with me. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cTaden. Hello,\u201d I said, awkwardly shifting myself from the bed to stand up.  \u201cI didn\u2019t hear you. Why have you come?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I didn\u2019t like the way he wouldn\u2019t look at me. I didn\u2019t like\nhow forlorn it made me feel, to see him treat me like I was my father\u2026 but then\nhis purpose became clear with his next words.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cAs your father\u2019s rooms and his duties have been passed down to you, so have my services, my lord,\u201d Taden said in a quiet voice. \u201cI am yours to command. My life is yours.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cTaden, look at me,\u201d I said, my throat tight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Obediently, Taden lifted his eyes. There was great love in their depths still\u2014but was it the love of a servant for his master? For a dear friendship rekindled? Or was there more?<\/p>\n\n\n\n<hr class=\"wp-block-separator has-css-opacity\"\/>\n\n\n<ul id=\"menu-taden-1\" class=\"menu\"><li class=\"menu-item menu-item-type-custom menu-item-object-custom menu-item-4648\"><a href=\"https:\/\/beydeckard.com\/blog\/taden-and-i-part-1\/\">Part 1<\/a><\/li>\n<li class=\"menu-item menu-item-type-custom menu-item-object-custom menu-item-4649\"><a href=\"https:\/\/beydeckard.com\/blog\/taden-and-i-part-2\/\">Part 2<\/a><\/li>\n<li class=\"menu-item menu-item-type-custom menu-item-object-custom menu-item-4650\"><a href=\"https:\/\/beydeckard.com\/blog\/taden-and-i-part-3\/\">Part 3<\/a><\/li>\n<\/ul>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Taden was my father\u2019s body servant and guard, and my favourite person in the entire world. He was fascinating\u2014a foreigner from a faraway land of volcanos and long nights. A warrior among his people. A battle-hardened man\u2026 and as fond of me as I was of him. As a young child, Taden dandled me on his knee and would let me run my hands softly over the planes of his face. Oh, his face intrigued me\u2014it was all hard angles and scars, skin so much paler than mine and eyes as black as river stones. I could see myself reflected &#8230; <\/p>\n<p class=\"read-more-container\"><a title=\"Taden and I &#8211; Part 1\" class=\"read-more button\" href=\"https:\/\/beydeckard.com\/blog\/taden-and-i-part-1\/#more-3139\" aria-label=\"Read more about Taden and I &#8211; Part 1\">Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":3140,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"generate_page_header":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[72],"tags":[116,88],"class_list":["post-3139","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-beys-tales-writing-2","tag-fantasy","tag-short-story"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/beydeckard.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/castle.jpg?fit=1282%2C530&ssl=1","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p4sexs-OD","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":4859,"url":"https:\/\/beydeckard.com\/blog\/the-mix-up-2\/","url_meta":{"origin":3139,"position":0},"title":"The Mix-Up","author":"Bey","date":"November 2, 2019","format":false,"excerpt":"Whistling softly to himself, Jacob locked the door and crossed the street to wait for his lift. If only he\u2019d get that damn promotion, they\u2019d be able to afford a second car\u2014Karen\u2019s new schedule was great\u2026 for her. Not so much for him. He jingled his keys in his pocket\u2026","rel":"","context":"In &quot;Bey's Tales&quot;","block_context":{"text":"Bey's Tales","link":"https:\/\/beydeckard.com\/blog\/category\/writing-2\/beys-tales-writing-2\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/beydeckard.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/11\/The-Mix-Up.jpg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/beydeckard.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/11\/The-Mix-Up.jpg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/beydeckard.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/11\/The-Mix-Up.jpg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/beydeckard.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/11\/The-Mix-Up.jpg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/beydeckard.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/11\/The-Mix-Up.jpg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=1050%2C600 3x"},"classes":[]},{"id":3232,"url":"https:\/\/beydeckard.com\/blog\/taden-and-i-part-2\/","url_meta":{"origin":3139,"position":1},"title":"Taden and I &#8211; Part 2","author":"Bey","date":"January 30, 2019","format":false,"excerpt":"We stared at each other for long enough that I found myself becoming uneasy, but I took a step towards him. It frustrated me that I could not read any intent in his eyes. Was he even truly glad I was returned? I took another small step that brought our\u2026","rel":"","context":"In &quot;Bey's Tales&quot;","block_context":{"text":"Bey's Tales","link":"https:\/\/beydeckard.com\/blog\/category\/writing-2\/beys-tales-writing-2\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/beydeckard.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/castle.jpg?fit=1200%2C496&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/beydeckard.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/castle.jpg?fit=1200%2C496&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/beydeckard.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/castle.jpg?fit=1200%2C496&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/beydeckard.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/castle.jpg?fit=1200%2C496&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/beydeckard.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/castle.jpg?fit=1200%2C496&ssl=1&resize=1050%2C600 3x"},"classes":[]},{"id":925,"url":"https:\/\/beydeckard.com\/blog\/dee-bees\/","url_meta":{"origin":3139,"position":2},"title":"Dee Bees","author":"Bey","date":"January 6, 2015","format":false,"excerpt":"Rustin Cohle in his shitty, empty house, contemplating photographs. (True Detective) His long fingers tapped at his bare thigh; only boxers and a dirty wife beater covered his wiry frame as he sat in the lawn chair. 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