Title: Hunting The Moon

by chibisarel

Author email: chibisarel@hotmail.com

Category: Angst, slight BDSM, slash (doh...)

Archiving: sure... just drop me a note first... (oh, and Peja-sama... I'd be really honored to have some story on your page(s)...*hinthint* ^_^)

Series: none, this is original fiction ^_^

Rating: R - overall story rating, individual parts range from pg to (hopefully in the future at least) nc-17

Warnings: m/m, some non-consensual,

Disclaimers: Hah! The great thing with original fiction is that you own them all! (except those, of course, who own you... *embarrassed grin*)

Good-to-know: -text- is italic/emphasis. //text// is thoughts. (changed that a little from previous parts)

Prologue

I have a story to tell. It's not a fairy tale. It's not a pleasant story, nor is it easy to believe. But unbelievable as it may be, and however dark and horrible it might seem at times, it is a story that
needs be told.

It is the story of my life. I do not care what you think of it. I do not care what you think of me. It is a story that needs to be told, for if I do not tell anyone, I fear I might go insane, convincing
myself it was all a dream. And then the question comes. What part is a dream? I'll let you be the judge of that.

So this, then, is the story of Me. A story of my search for love, for trust, for friendship. A story about war and death, about heroes and villains -- perhaps not the ones you would suspect, but they are there. All in all, it is the kind of story, I guess, that could be found in any library. For one exception.

This story is true.

Part One

I hugged my knees, staring out the window into the night. I was lonely. Why, I thought, was there no one to hold me? Why was there no one in this world who could like me? In school, everybody sneered at me, and whispered behind my back. At home, mother barely noticed I was there, except when she needed help. I seldom went out, preferring to stay in my room with my books and sketching pads, reading about the adventures I myself wanted to be part of, perfecting my drawing. I didn't like to think I was good at drawing, but seeing the works of my classmates, I had to admit that I belonged to another league completely.

I picked up the pad from where it lay at my feet on the windowsill, flipping through the pages. Every page was filled with sketches and drawings of Lord Azriel, my own creation. My would-be protector. My... My imaginary lover.

In the beginning, Lord Azriel had just been a warrior. My champion. The first pictures I'd drawn of him were ordinary 'posing-for-the-camera' pictures. But slowly he had come to life, both in my drawings and in my mind. He talked, laughed, ate, drank, fought. Made love.

He was just a figure on my papers. So what? Every nineteen-year-old is allowed their fantasies, right? And my fantasies of Lord Azriel were perhaps all that helped me endure my days.

I paused at the last drawing, gazing at Lord Azriel in bed. The one with him was barely visible. The only parts that showed was the head and shoulders, and one long, slender leg. I could never bring myself to draw too detailed pictures, sometimes almost afraid of my dirty imagination.

Turning the page, I picked up my pencil, and sketched the outlines of Azriel's face. I could already see the picture in my mind. He was standing at a window, looking rather surprisedly at someone. He wasn't dressed in his armour, but in his casual clothes: a silk shirt the colour of fresh blood and black leather pants; knee-high black boots. His waist-long black hair fell in cascades down his back, and his grey eyes were wide. Of course, the colours wouldn't show until I coloured it later, but they were there in my mind.

Finishing Azriel was easy, but as I was about to draw his visitor, I hesitated. Then I pursed my lips in determination. Looking into the mirror on the opposite wall for guidance, I started drawing the lean, auburn-haired figure I saw there. Leaning slightly backwards, hand at my mouth in surprise, or shock perhaps? I was dressed in a simple, grey tunic and as grey trousers. The type of clothing I had come to see as servant's clothing.

When I was finished, I considered the picture. I didn't quite know why I had drawn myself there. It was the second time I had done so, and the first it had only been hinted at through the hair. I couldn't say what had made me give myself servant's clothes, but it felt right, somehow. I frowned. I still couldn't decide whether the me of the picture was surprised or shocked. I lifted my pencil, and after a second's hesitation, I shaded my cheeks slightly as to indicate a flush. Then I smiled. Now I was definitely embarrassed. What about? Something Azriel had said, or something I had said?

"Never mind", I sighed. "I suppose I'll never know."

I flipped to the other picture where I had hinted at myself. Azriel was standing in armour beside a bed, where an auburn-haired figure was sleeping, an arm slung over the face enough to hide it. The covers where drawn up almost to the shoulders, leaving only a hint of the slender backside. No one but me knew that it was I. Azriel knew, of course. But he was hardly in a position to tell anyone, right? I grinned slightly. It was a bittersweet picture, for although it was me there, he was leaving. Battle was calling, and he was leaving before I woke up. Either to not have to face me, or to spare me the pain of saying good-bye.

"Elias!" I heard my mother call, and I sighed. Closing my pad, I jumped down from the windowsill and exited my room to help her with whatever it was she wanted.

Part Two

Azriel sighed, weary from the battle, and sank down into the comfortable armchair. It couldn't hurt to just sleep for a little while, could it? He leaned back and closed his steel grey eyes. They flew open again as someone knocked on the door. He groaned slightly, but straightened.

"Yes", he called.

The door opened and revealed a servant in the door. He bowed. "I'm sorry, Lord Azriel, but the Queen would like to see you as soon as possible."

Meaning now. Azriel sighed, but rose and followed the servant through the corridors to the Queen's antechamber.

As he entered, she rose and smiled. "Azriel, how nice of you to come so soon."

Azriel bowed from the waist, touching first his forehead, then his heart with his right hand. "I live to serve you, my Queen."

"I wanted to thank you for what you did for my kingdom this day."

"I only did my duty." Azriel hated the days directly after a battle. Everybody would come up to him and congratulate him for his deeds. There were times when he wished he wasn't so damned good at fighting. But as if all the fawning petty nobles weren't enough, he always got at least five new offers of nightly services.

The Queen smiled at him again. "I know you do. And I know how much you hate me for congratulating you."

Azriel started. "Not at all, my Queen. I could never hate you."

"It doesn't matter." She chuckled and shook her head. "But although you only do your duty, faithful services should be rewarded. Is there anything you would like?"

Azriel smiled slightly. "Right now, all I need is some peace and quiet. And a few hours sleep."

She sighed. "Very well. But the offer is still valid. If there is something you desire, do not hesitate to ask. If it is within my power to grant you what you wish, you will have it."

Azriel bowed. "Thank you, my Queen."

"You can leave. Sleep well, Lord Azriel."

Azriel returned to his quarters, and went to bed, falling asleep as his head touched the pillow. And he dreamt.

* * *

The boy sat in the window, drawing pad in his lap, drawing something. He seemed fully intent on his drawing, barely glancing up. Azriel crossed the room and glanced over the boy's — no, the young man's — shoulder to see what he was drawing. And he gasped. It was an almost perfect likeness of himself. He'd never seen anyone capture him that good. The image was grey and white only, but there was no mistaking it. The Lord Azriel in the picture was sitting in his armchair, reading a book. Azriel squinted, but he could not read the title of the book. But looking closer, he recognized the cover. It was his favourite book.

"Love-nest", the boy whispered, and Azriel jumped. How did he know? The boy continued, "Who had imagined the great Lord Azriel reading a book like /that/?" He chuckled slightly. "Although it is perfect for his... preferences."

Azriel found himself flushing slightly. Odd, that. He'd never before been feeling guilty or ashamed over liking men rather than women.

Then the boy suddenly looked up at him, and his eyes widened. He dropped the drawing pad and spun around in jumping down from the windowsill. "You..." he whispered, pale-faced.

* * *

Azriel sat up in his bed, confused. What kind of dream had that been? He shook his head. Must be something brought on by the Dragon Lord, because he'd never experienced something like that before.

Part Three

I stared at the spot where I had seen the faint ghost of Azriel just a moment ago. I scanned the room for any sign that I had been wrong or right. There was nothing unusual at all. "Azriel..." I whispered. My beautiful Azriel. I turned, and rested my elbows on the windowsill, staring longingly into space. Could it be he really existed somewhere? Then I sighed and shook my head. No way. Probably it was just me overworking myself. Perhaps I should take it easy for a while with my drawing?

* * *

Next day, school was as usual. Those who didn't ignore me, taunted me. Fem-boy. Freak. Faggot. Weirdo. Teacher's pet. That was just a few of the things I'd been called. I was used to it by now, but it still stung. The first one most of all. I wasn't really /that/ effeminate, was I? Just slender and long-haired. But that was obviously enough for them.

During the lunch break, the over-bully, Julian, approached me in the boys' room. "You!" he said.

I took a step backwards. "Y-yes?" I asked, hating myself for being unable to keep the trembling from my voice.

"How much do you take for a blowjob?"

I stared at him, not wanting to believe what I could have heard. "What?" I managed.

"I need relief, Faggot, and you'll give it to me."

I backed another step. He followed. Glancing backwards, I noticed he was on his way of driving me into a corner. "Please, Julian. Let me go."

He sneered. "No way, little whore. You ain't getting out here the easy way."

Just then, the door to the restroom opened, and a student entered. Julian immediately turned his head to glare at the unfortunate sod, who started to duck back out. I didn't wait that long. Taking my chances, I sprinted past Julian and followed the unknown student out.

Julian chuckled behind me. "I'll get you, Fem-boy", he called after me as I ran down the corridor and up the stairs to the second floor, where my next class was.

* * *

He did catch me again. I was on the roof, looking out over the city, complaining about my life. I sat on the edge of the roof, dangling my legs over the thirty feet drop. I had never been bothered by heights. Either you fell or you didn't, and the difference between walking on a narrow ledge one foot off ground or ten feet off ground wasn't that big. The ledge was still as narrow. Or as broad, depending on how you wanted to see it.

"How nice to see you again", Julian's awful voice came from behind me.

I jumped up, and turned. He wasn't alone. He had five other guys with him. I was familiar with two of them. They were Julian's ordinary 'hit men'.

"Come here", Julian said, beckoning at me with one finger.

I didn't. Julian's eyes narrowed. "I said, come here", he repeated, taking one step closer himself. Forgetting myself, I backed away.

And fell.

For a second, I saw Julian's wide eyes, then he vanished from my vision as I plummeted down towards earth head-first.

I closed my eyes.

//Azriel...//

And then everything went dark.

Part Four

I woke up slowly, finding myself in a bed. It smelled faintly of hospital in the room.

//So I survived//, I thought. Then I took a look at my clothes. Grey tunic, and grey pants. I blinked. I blinked again. And frowned. Something was wrong. It was still me. I touched my more-than-shoulder-long, auburn hair to make sure of that. I was still Elias. But...

The door opened, and a young woman stepped inside. When she saw me, her eyes widened slightly. "You've woken up!" she said. "That's good news."

"Whe..." My voice cracked. I swallowed, and tried again. "Where am I?"

"Not to worry. You're safe. But if you would please wait, I'll fetch Lord Ehlam." She turned and exited.

Ehlam. That name seemed familiar. Oh yes. I had drawn him together with Azriel once. He was of lesser rank than Azriel, I think. He felt that way when I drew him, at least. In that picture, they were fighting side by side. Fighting some guys with slightly dragonskull-shaped helmets. Where Azriel was fighting with a heavy long-sword, Ehlam had two swords in hand, fighting equally well with both hands. Double handed. That was rather unusual, I knew. In the picture, Ehlam was turning his head towards Azriel with a smile, casually parrying with his left hand, showing off.

I waited for perhaps five minutes before the door opened again to reveal both the woman and Lord Ehlam. Ehlam still looked as he had in my drawing. His fiery red hair was of barely shoulder-length, and his nose broken. He wasn't dressed in armour though. Had he been, I'd
have been surprised. As it was, he had tight-fitting brown trousers, knee-high boots and a richly embroidered grey shirt. He was more gorgeous than I had thought from that one picture I'd made.

As he looked me up and down, I did my best at the formal greeting. I couldn't bow, seeing as I was in bed, but I touched my forehead and then my heart. He smiled faintly and nodded back.

He came up to the bed and sat down in the chair that stood beside it. He put his elbows on his thighs and leaned forwards slightly, resting his chin on his hands. "Who are you?" he asked then.

I opened my mouth, when I hesitated. I could tell him my name, I guessed, but what would he say if I tried to explain a little more who I was? 'I'm just a school-boy who made up your entire world.' Nah, didn't think so.

"You don't remember?"

The idea flashed through my mind. If I pretended to not remember anything, any lapses in protocol on my part could be prescribed to that. I hesitated, more as an act than from real consternation. Then I said, "I don't know."

Ehlam looked sympathetic. "It was a rather severe blow you suffered to your head."

Blow? I frowned. "What happened to me?"

He took a deep breath. "One of my servants found you not too far from here, near the battlefield."

That's right. There was a constant battle going on with that dragon guy, wasn't there?

"My guess is either that you fell and hit your head, or that someone else did it with the intent to kill you."

I frowned. "Who would want to kill me?"

At that, he smiled and shook his head. "How should I know? Until someone knows who you are, we won't even be able to investigate that part."

I hesitated. "My name's... Elias."

He straightened. "That's good. Anything else you remember?"

Again I hesitated. I couldn't very well say I knew Azriel, could I? Just because I had seen him once, and knew almost everything about him that I had drawn, that didn't mean he had ever seen me. "I don't know." I shook my head. "I don't think so."

He seemed to slump a little. "It's all right."

I chewed my lip thoughtfully. Why was -he- here? "Lord Ehlam?" He looked up at me. "Why is it that -you- are here to question me?"

He smiled faintly. "Well, since you were found by my servants, the Queen deemed you my responsibility."

"Oh." Damn him. Why couldn't I have been found by Azriel's servants instead? "Ummm..." I began then. "When can I get out of bed?"

Ehlam looked me up and down again. "Well, seeing as you seem fit, except for your memory loss, you might get up now if you want to. Just be careful so you won't strain yourself too much."

I smiled. "Sure, my lord." Inside, I wondered slightly over my sanity in playing along with this dream. On the other hand, my imagination had always been strong, as was the urge to get away from reality. Calling others 'my lord' had never been a problem with me, only with those I could have said it to.

Ehlam opened a small pouch at his belt, and picked out a small pin. A signet pin. He bent over me and fastened it to the collar of my tunic. "So people will see you are under my protection", he
clarified, although I had guessed at that reason already. I had drawn many pictures with servants on them bearing Azriel's emblem: a black phoenix. I tried to take a closer look at Ehlam's pin, but it was impossible.

"Here", Ehlam said, holding out his hand. I looked at it for a few seconds at first, not quite understanding what he meant. Then I saw the signet ring on his ring finger. A golden crescent moon with two silver swords crossed over it. How appropriate then, that he fought with two swords. I smiled at that thought, and Ehlam raised one eyebrow. "Hmm?"

I looked up at him. "Oh, sorry. I was just thinking, did you choose your weaponry out of that?" Then I could have bit off my tongue. Just a good job of playing ignorant and amnesiac.

Ehlam blinked at me. Then he started to chuckle. "So you remember that, do you?"

I licked my lips nervously. "I guess."

It seemed as though Ehlam waited for me to continue, but as I didn't, he rose. "We'll see each other again. Maya here can show you to an appropriate room somewhere near my chambers." He turned towards the door, but checked himself and turned back. "And if you remember something else, please tell me."

I nodded. "I will, my lord."

He seemed satisfied with that, and exited the room.

* * *

I followed the girl through the corridors, realizing that it would take me ages to learn to find my own way here. But soon, I realized, we entered a corridor — a wing, probably — with that crescent-sword mark over the entrance. Convenient.

Maya opened a door — the third door on the left, I counted — and gestured inside. "This room is empty, so you can use it."

"Thank you." But Maya wasn't finished. She entered the room, and opened the closet. It was empty, but dust-free.

"I'll see to it that a few sets of clothes in your size are put here", she said.

"Thanks." Then a pressing need made itself known. "Umm... Where can I...?" I cupped my hands over my crotch with a probably very pathetic gesture.

"Relieve yourself?" I nodded, and she exited the room and pointed to the first door on the right in the corridor. "There's the closest one", she said. "You recognize them on that mark." It was circular mark, with a small, vertical slash on it, somewhat like a Q turned upside-down.

I thanked her yet another time, and hurried inside. For being as primitive as the toilet was, it was surprisingly stench-free. The schools back home would surely have use for that, I thought with a
slight chuckle.

When I came out again, Maya had left, so I decided to take a stroll through the palace, where I suspected I was. I frowned. She had never answered my first question of where I was. Never mind.

* * *

After twenty minutes, I was thoroughly lost, but I figured that I could always ask a servant to show me where Lord Ehlam's quarters were when I wanted to return. But I didn't want to go back quite yet.

Almost an hour later, I stopped, staring at the phoenix mark over a corridor opening. "Azriel", I whispered. I stood there for a while, staring alternately at the emblem and into the corridor, wishing somehow that he would be there. My champion.

Finally, I turned away and left. My fingers itching for pen and paper, I caught a servant and asked him how to get to Lord Ehlam's quarters. He was too busy to follow me there, but he told me the
general direction. So I set out to find it myself. I guess that's really the easiest way of learning how to find something.

After perhaps a quarter of an hour later, I reached familiar ground, and only half a minute later, I set my eyes on Ehlam's emblem.

I didn't go to my room, though, but sought out the door that looked grandest. It looked, I realized when I found it, a little bit like the door to Azriel's study. Of course I had only ever drawn it from
the inside. Hesitantly, I knocked on the door.

"Come in", a voice I think I recognized as Ehlam's answered. I opened the door and stepped inside.

"Ah... Elias, was it?" Ehlam smiled. I nodded. "What do you want?"

I fidgeted slightly, not quite knowing whether I dared to ask. "I was thinking... Is it possible for me to get my hands on some paper and a pencil?" Who knew, perhaps paper was as rare here as it was during the Middle Ages?

Ehlam raised an eyebrow. "For what purpose?"

"Well, I'd like to draw some."

It was obvious that Ehlam didn't quite approve. Probably he didn't want to waste paper on childish pictures. I wished I could prove to him that it wasn't quite a waste.

"I could draw a picture of you, if you wanted", I offered.

He seemed to consider that. Then he nodded. "All right." He laid a paper at his desk, and then offered me his seat, while he rose and started searching for something to draw with, I surmised.

"Do you have some more or less erasable to draw with?" I asked hesitantly. I hoped he wouldn't give me a pen to dip in ink. I wasn't exactly that practised with those. Not on first-hand, at least. I'd used them sometimes to fill in the lines with, but...

Ehlam nodded, and gave me a kind of pencil. It was a bit thicker than my usual pencils, and as I tested the lead, I realised it was a charcoal pencil. Somewhat erasable, and definitely better than ink.

I sat down in the chair, and bent over the paper, thinking of what to draw. The end of the pencil flew to my mouth before I remembered that it's impolite to chew on others' pencils. I tried to keep it out of my mouth after that. The paper was somewhat like aquarelle paper, with a rugged surface.

I knew I wanted Azriel in the picture. The reason was purely selfish, I readily admit. If he was in the picture, Ehlam might show it to him, and then he'd perhaps notice me.

Finally my mind showed me the perfect image. I put the pencil to the paper and started. Now and then I used the knife lying on the desk to sharpen the pencil. When I was finished with the greyscale image, I surrended the seat to Ehlam, who sat down. His eyes widened as he looked upon the drawing.

It was Azriel and Ehlam playing something resembling chess. Azriel had that patented little one-sided smile that told anyone who knew him that he knew he was going to win. And that despite the fact that Ehlam had the most pieces left. Azriel's hair was braided, and he was dressed in that same red shirt and black trousers he usually had in private. Ehlam, on the other hand, was chewing his lip slightly, hand poised over the board as he contemplated his next move. He was wearing his grey shirt together with a pair of black pants. The shirt was open at the top, showing part of his broad, tanned chest. They were sitting in Azriel's study, by the fireplace.

I awaited with anticipation for Ehlam's reaction. Ehlam had been a little harder to draw, since I had only done him once, but on the other hand I'd had the model before me. I'd taken a peek now and then to see how to draw a broken nose from the side. I had never thought about that earlier.

"Do you know who this is?" he finally asked, pointing at Azriel.

I nodded. "Lord Azriel of House Phoenix."

"How familiar are you with him?"

I flushed slightly. I couldn't very well tell him the truth, now could I? "I... don't know."

He seemed to misinterpret my flush, for he smiled slightly - knowingly. Then he turned his eyes back to the picture. "This is... very good. I'll see to it that an empty book is sent to you, together
with a pencil. Do you want ink as well?"

I stifled a smile. Changed his mind completely, had he? "If it's not too much trouble, my lord", I said.

He put my drawing aside. "Have you eaten yet?" My stomach growled in response to that, and he smiled. "I suppose not. You ought to, though. I'll tell someone that as well."

And with that, he quite efficiently dismissed me.

* * *

Two days passed, and then, as I was eating supper, a knock was heard on the door, and as I opened it, a servant stood outside, wearing a pin with the phoenix emblem.

"Lord Azriel wishes to see you", she said. So I had no choice but to follow her through the palace to the phoenix wing. It took, I noted, considerably less time than it had taken for me to get from there to my room. She knocked on the door, and opened it, gesturing for me to step inside.

I did, and then froze, gazing at the man standing by the window in blood-red shirt and black leather pants. He was for real. My perfect creation was for real. He might not be mine, but that didn't matter. Not much. That could always be changed.

"Who are you?"

Even his voice was perfect. The same, soft baritone I had imagined. I blinked to clear my thoughts. "Elias, my lord", I managed.

"I know your name. Who are you?"

I looked down. Could I tell him the truth? Would he understand? No. Probably not. "I don't know", I admitted at length, and that was actually the truth. I had thought I was just Elias Timbrook, an ordinary student with ordinary, although large, problems. Now, though, I wasn't so sure.

I felt him come closer, and then he touched me. Not much. Only his finger gently pushing my chin upwards, but it was enough to send my body into flames. I swallowed as I looked into those grey eyes, trying to steady my heartbeat. //Think of something else//, I ordered myself. //Julian.// That worked. I tried to imagine Julian as I'd seen him that last day. I was immediately filled with loathing and hatred instead of... lust.

His eyes narrowed, and he let go of my chin, taking a step backwards.

Wait. He didn't think my change of expression was because of him? He didn't think it was him I hated, did he?

"You're not leaving until you tell me who you are", my champion said decisively.

As if that would make me tell him sooner. When I didn't say anything, he went back to the window where he'd been standing and leaned back, looking at me pointedly.

"Tell me."

//What if I don't want to leave, then?// my mind asked, but I didn't dare voice the question aloud. Finally, I said, "Will you tell anyone else?" I glanced at him worriedly. I might consider to tell Azriel, but no one else. It could be too dangerous.

His eyes narrowed again at that. "And why would I not?"

"Because..." I began. Because no one else would believe it. Because it didn't concern any but me and Azriel. Because it was rather embarrassing as it was. Because it would be dangerous if the wrong people found out. Because... "Because it's a pretty unbelievable story. One that I would not like to have circulated as gossip. And because I will not tell you unless you swear you won't tell anyone."

He looked at me for at least a minute, while I tried to return his gaze. I bit the inside of my lower lip as I studied his broad chest, which I deemed that my drawing had never been able to do justice. The same went for the rest of him. His high cheekbones and pale skin. The lustre of his raven hair. His long, thick eyelashes that framed those steely pools of grey.

"All right", he said finally, and I jumped slightly. "I swear I will not tell anyone." He smiled grimly. "Now tell me."

I wanted to sit down, but as there was no chair quite nearby, I remained standing, steeling my knees so they wouldn't fold beneath me. Where did I start, now that I had obviously decided to tell
him? "You've existed in my thoughts for five years", I finally began. "For the past two years, you've been the only thing keeping me sane." I almost chuckled at how insane that sounded. Being obsessed with a fantasy figure to remain sane.

Azriel seemed amused. I understood him. He'd always had a line to his bed. Well, almost. But I didn't want him to see me as just another one waiting in line. I continued quickly.

"The problem is that I've never seen you before. Not until three days ago."

At this, he straightened slightly, surprised.

"As far as I was concerned, you were just a figment of my imagination, a warrior created by my need to..." I paused. My need to... what? Be protected? Be accepted? Be loved? All those. "My need to have -some-one to care for me."

His eyes were permanently narrowed by now. I could sense I had shaken his view of the world slightly.

"I can draw you from every angle possible, I think. I was obsessed with you." //I still am.// "Obsessed to the point that one day when I was drawing and happened to look up and see you, I was convinced I was going mad. That my obsession had made me hallucinate."

I could see his mind working. I knew him well enough to know his every expression, or at least I took pride in thinking I did. "What were you drawing that particular time?"

I looked at him questioningly, but he said nothing more. Why would he ask that? Oh well. "I was drawing you, sitting in your armchair, reading a book. Love-nest, I decided it was..."

He held up one hand, silencing me. "You are telling the truth, then. No one could know that dream. I never told anyone."

"You've been dreaming about me as well?" I blurted out. Then, as his eyes widened in surprise, and I realized what I'd just said, I put a hand to my mouth, as though I could take the words back. My face burned, and I wanted most of all run away.

Then I froze with realization. My eyes went wide as -that- picture entered my mind. I scanned the room quickly to find the viewing point. It couldn't be. How could I have drawn an image that was yet to come?

When Azriel spoke again, his voice was cool and amused. "And what dreams have you been dreaming about me, then?"

That made me forget about that drawing I had made. My face went crimson as I thought of my dreams. Some were safe to tell, but the others... "About you fighting, among other things. You with the Queen. You training. Ordinary things."

"Ah." He crossed the room. "I think I heard an 'among other things'. What other things?" Still as amused, if not more so.

I looked down, unable to answer that question, unable to find out an excuse. His close proximity was too unsettling. I found it hard to concentrate on anything. My champion. My perfect, wonderful warrior. This close to me.

His hand sneaked in under my chin again and tilted my head backwards, looking into my eyes. He was smiling. A mischievous smile that made me both want to run and stay. "Did you, perchance, dream of this?" And he bent down to kiss me, his arms sneaking around my shoulders and back to press me tight against him.

As his soft lips touched mine, I went rigid. A fraction of a second later, I melted into his embrace. Although I had seen enough movies to know how to do, I had never kissed anyone before. I'm sure he noticed this.

Then suddenly, he let go of me, and took a step backwards. As my eyes slowly focused on his face again, I noticed he was still smiling. "I think you did", he said. And he winked at me. Then he turned his back and walked up to his desk. Well seated, he looked up at me. "You can leave."

I stared at him in disbelief. He was dismissing me? My perfection was pointedly ignoring me? After setting my body aflame? I looked down as a sudden pain gripped my chest. "Yes, my lord", I mumbled and turned towards the door.

* * *

Well back in my own room, I decided to do something about the hard-on he'd given me. However, I lost interest somewhere midway, rolled over in my bed and started crying instead. Damn him. Why couldn't I be back home instead? At least he had never ignored me there. Even if he'd never existed, I could at least pretend he did, and that he loved me. But I should have known better from all the pictures I'd made of him with different bed partners. Azriel was just a playboy. Gorgeous or not, he went from person to person, men and women alike, although most were boys. I hated him.

At least, that's what I told myself.

Part Five

I woke up late the next morning by someone knocking on the door. Pulling my covers around me, I called, "Yes?"

The door opened, and Maya looked inside. "Lord Ehlam would like to see you, Elias."

I nodded, and as she closed the door, I got up, and put on a new pair of grey servant's clothes. Fastening the pin to the collar, I exited the room and went to knock on Ehlam's. It was opened at once by Maya.

"Good", Ehlam said behind her. "Come in. And you can leave, Maya."

"Yes, my lord", we both said at once, and smiled at each other.

"Elias", Ehlam began as I stood before his desk. "I have been relieved of my custody of you."

I frowned. "What do you mean, my lord?" I asked.

"The Queen has informed me that you will no longer be under my protection."

A fleeting sense of panic floated through me. "But..." I began, but he held up his hand.

"You won't be left to your own. There is another who has laid claims on you."

That sounded... suspicious. "Who's that?"

"Lord Azriel."

I froze. I would 'belong' to Azriel? Seeing as I already did in my mind, it could be fatal, especially as he did not want me in that way. Did he do this just to taunt me?

Ehlam held out a pin towards me. A phoenix pin. Dry-mouthed, I unfastened Ehlam's pin from my collar, and reluctantly traded with him. I looked at the black-enamelled pin for a few seconds before putting it on. I couldn't really refuse. If the Queen had said that my custody was being transferred to Azriel, there wasn't much anyone could do.

"I'll see you sometime", Ehlam smiled as I turned to leave.

"Certainly, my lord", I replied and exited his study.

I went past my old room to pick up my book and my pouch of pencils, and then navigated myself towards Azriel's rooms.

* * *

It was with a heavy heart that I raised my hand and knocked on his door.

"Come in", he answered me, and I opened the door and stepped inside, wishing I didn't have to.

"My lord?" I said when I had closed the door behind me. I winced at the title. Azriel was actually the only one here who really was 'my lord'.

"How pleasant of you to drop by", Azriel smiled.

"Why did you ask me from Lord Ehlam?"

He smiled confidently. "Because I felt like it, and because the Queen had promised me a favour."

So that was it? Because he 'felt like it'? I swallowed my anger and sadness and tried to make sure my voice was even as I spoke. "So what do you want me to do, my lord?"

"Let me see that book of yours", he said, gesturing. I walked up to him and handed him the book. There weren't that many pictures in it, but almost all there were, were of Azriel. Damn. Especially damn when he came to the last picture and whistled appreciatively. I knew that particular drawing by heart. Azriel was only dressed in his trousers and boots, his eyes narrowed, and a seductive smile on his lips. He was sitting in the armchair, leaning back against one corner, one slender leg slung up on the opposite armrest. It was inked, and had turned out better than I had imagined.

"Interesting picture", Azriel said now, and I blushed, looking down. "I've been occupying your thoughts quite a lot, lately, haven't I?"

I didn't attempt to deny that. I took the book silently when he gave it back, and tried to avoid looking into his eyes.

"I'm going to take a bath", Azriel announced. "Would you like to assist me?"

I panicked. Being that close to a naked Azriel would be more than I could bear. I'd only end up making a fool of myself. "No!" I said quickly.

"And if I were to order you?"

I hung my head. He could do that. "Damn you, Azriel", I muttered to myself.

"Then that's settled", Azriel chuckled. "Come now. You can leave those things on the desk. No one will get in here without my permission."

Slightly reluctantly, I placed my belongings on the desk and then followed him into the back rooms. As we passed through his bedroom, I couldn't help but look longingly in the direction of his luxurious bed. I had drawn him there so many times with different people that I knew that bed as though it were my own.

* * *

The bath turned out to be a swimming pool approximately ten by fifteen feet, and about five-foot deep. I tried to look everywhere else but on Azriel as he undressed, refusing to look at him at all
until he spoke.

"You going to undress at all?"

I looked up, and gasped. I had never thought he could be -that- beautiful. I licked my lips, and looked down again, feeling acutely my need. "I'd rather not", I muttered.

"Let me rephrase the question. Are you going to undress, or shall I do it for you?"

I bit back the groan that threatened to escape my lips. Him taking my clothes off was one of the things I wanted most of all. But I would not admit that. Not when I knew he didn't want me the way I wanted him, at least. "I'm out of here", I growled as I turned and headed briskly towards the safety of his study and the corridors outside.

"Oh no", Azriel's voice said behind me, and a strong hand grabbed my wrist. "You're going nowhere."

I swallowed. //Please don't do this to me//, I begged in my mind. I refused to look up at him. "Please let me go, my Lord."

He sneaked his fingers into my hair, and turned my head to face him. And then he kissed me.

I felt myself respond for a second before my logic set in. He didn't want me. He was just teasing me. So I snapped my head to the side, ignoring his hand in my hair, ignoring that I in that action snapped quite a few strands of hair. The pain just gave me something else to concentrate on.

"So you don't want me", Azriel mumbled, pressing his body against mine.

//Yes, I do!// my heart cried, but I refused to give in. "No", I muttered.

"Too bad", he whispered, pressing his crotch harder against me.

As I felt his hardness, my mouth fell open, and I turned my head to stare at him. And as he bent to kiss me again, I didn't turn away.

//No//, a small part of my mind protested. But I didn't listen to it. Even if this was a one-time happening, even if he was just using me, I would allow it. I had dreamed of him for so long, and now that I had met him... I would do everything for him, everything to have just a few moments in his arms.

Gently, Azriel dislodged my arms from his waist, and as I blinked up at him in puzzled hurt, he smiled. "Perhaps you ought to get undressed, Elias", he said.

Undressed. With him. I swooned for a second at the anticipating heat that swept through my body at that thought. I unbuckled my belt, took hold of the hem of my tunic and pulled it off me, standing before him in sandals and trousers.

"You're not too bad yourself", Azriel mumbled, smiling almost... greedily. "But you're not going to stop there, are you?" He lay one finger on my chest, and then let it slide down to the waist-line of
the pants, tugging slightly.

Flushing, I started with my sandals. Then I took a resolute breath, and took off my trousers.

Azriel smiled as he looked down at my half-erection, and for a fleeting moment, I panicked and was just about to run out, when he grabbed me and pulled me close in a warm embrace.

"Come, my boy", he whispered in my hair. "Let's take a bath." I felt him smile against the side of my head. "And who knows what might happen then?"

I let him lead me towards the pool, but tested the water with my foot out of cowardice before following him in. The water was... not warm, but not cold either. Just about body-temperature. Azriel sat down on a below-water bench, and pulled me down into his lap and kissed me.

* * *

I woke up in Azriel's bed the next morning. Azriel was not beside me, and I sat up in alarm. Where was he? I quickly scanned the room. His clothing was gone from the floor. Could have been picked up by some servant, of course. But in my mind, when I was safely just fantasizing about Azriel, there had never been one account where servants had entered Azriel's chambers when he was... otherwise occupied. Not without announcing themself.

I sat up, and swung my legs off the bed. I crossed the room and went inside the bath to pick up my clothes, my stomach clenched into a tight knot. Had he deliberately left? So as to spare me the
embarrassment of facing a direct denial? I didn't want to imagine that, but as often was the case, my mind went ahead and tortured me with those painful probabilities. I pulled on my pants and tunic, and slipped into my sandals. Then I went out into Azriel's study while buckling on my belt.

He was there. I let out a sigh of relief, and he turned from his desk. "Ah", he said, his eyes smiling. "Good morning, Elias. Slept well?"

Despite my worries, the corners of my mouth twitched into a smile. "Yes. The little I slept."

His eyes twinkled. "And the time you didn't sleep? Was that enjoyable too?" Then he grinned. "Don't bother to answer. Your face tells me more than you could probably express in words."

Quickly I attempted a straight face, tried to banish the foolish grin I knew was there. Then my eyes fell upon what lay before Azriel, and I hurried forward. I still felt too uncomfortable with someone else looking at my drawings.

Azriel looked down at the open pad as well. "You draw very well, Elias. I don't think I've seen anyone this good."

I flushed. "Th- thank you, Lord Azriel", I stuttered. I wasn't really unused to praise, but if was something altogether different when it came from Azriel.

"But I wondered..." Azriel began, and started to turn the pages. "Who is this?" He stopped at the second to last filled page and let his finger softly caress the image there.

It was a simple portrait picture I'd drawn in a few seconds, just to draw -something- other than Azriel. It was a young man of perhaps twenty-five or thirty — although compared to me that was old — with a pale complexion, and two dark green leaves tattooed over his left eye. Well, dark grey, since I didn't have any colours, but they were supposed to be dark green. Just as his eyes were supposed to be crimson, and his long hair a pale green colour.

I shrugged. "That's just an ordinary guy", I said. "I just drew him yesterday. His name is Willow, I think." Just to help pull the name Willow from the image of a short, ugly dwarf. And besides, the man -was- as slender as a willow.

Azriel looked up at me with narrow eyes. "Where did you meet him?"

I took a step backwards at his glare, and frowned in confusion. "What do you mean? I've never met anyone like him. He's just something I made up." Why was Azriel acting so strange?

Azriel looked at me for a few seconds more, then he looked down and sighed. "It's not that I don't want to believe you", he said quietly. "But if you knew what we know..." He trailed off.

Enough was enough. "What?" I demanded. "What's wrong?"

Again Azriel looked up at me, capturing me with his grey eyes. "This man does exist. His..."

"-What-?"

"His name -is- Willow, and he is the Dragon Lord."

I blinked, and reached out towards the desk to steady myself. Despite that, I felt myself swaying slightly where I stood staring at Azriel. I probably looked quite silly.

"Didn't you tell me you made me up as well?" Azriel wondered pointedly.

I swallowed. I had in the shock forgotten that. Azriel was no longer just a character on a paper. "Well, yes, but..."

Azriel sighed. "I'm not going to ask what the Goddess has planned for you, but..." He shook his head. "That doesn't mean I have to like it." He rose. "I'm going to take a bath. I need to clear my mind."

//Does he usually bathe this often, or is it just the combination of the type of bath yesterday and this shock?//

He strode off, and left me alone. Since he hadn't asked me to accompany him, I didn't follow him. But it still hurt when he didn't turn and ask me to come. So I took my drawing block and sat down to draw a little.

I had only got so far as to the outlines of Azriel in armour, fighting, when someone knocked at the door. I jumped out of the chair and hesitantly entered the bath.

"Lord Azriel", I began.

Azriel opened his eyes and looked up at me. "Yes?"

"There's someone knocking on the door. Should I let them in?"

A few seconds pause, then he nodded. I went back and opened the door.

"Lord Azriel's in the bath", I told the girl who stood outside. She looked me up and down, then she nodded at me and swept past.

She was dressed in a dark blue shirt and a matching, ankle-long skirt. It looked somewhat both odd and striking in combination with her blonde, almost white, hair. The pin on her collar was a silver crown. The Queen's... what? Was she a servant, in blue? Or was she a free lady-in-waiting? No, then she perhaps wouldn't have worn that uniform-like outfit. More probably she was something in between. Maybe as the Queen's personal attendant you had more rank than an
ordinary servant? Yes, most probably.

Then the girl came back, swished past me and sauntered off down the corridor. I closed the door behind me and sat down to draw again.

Almost at once, I felt the almost trance-like state come over me. The state that meant I would hardly know what I'd drawn until I was finished. I always found those drawings the most interesting.

* * *

Half an hour later, when Azriel came out from the bath, I sat and looked through the charcoal sketches I'd made.

The first one was merely my begun picture finished. Azriel was battling a man in dragon-like armour with long, pale hair sticking out from under his helmet. Willow, most likely. Around them, others were also fighting. A war. The next picture made me draw my breath in sharply. The Phoenix Lord had been defeated, and Willow stood above him, slender... katana? raised in hand to kill. No, not a katana. It was slightly too long to be an ordinary katana. In the background I could to my shock see myself running towards the pair, a short sword in my hand, heedless of the battle around me.

The third image showed me kneeling before the Dragon Lord, glancing towards the prone body of Azriel. Willow was grinning smugly below his helmet, and holding out one hand to me.

The soft swish of footsteps on the marble floor alerted me, and I snapped the book shut. I would -not- show Azriel those pictures.

Azriel didn't ask to see them, though.

"We're to see the Queen", he said instead. "You can leave that pad here. The door will not be open."

So Azriel didn't want to show my drawings to the Queen? I frowned as I left the chair and followed him out the door. Why was that? Did he intend to keep it to himself, or had he already shown the Queen that image I'd made of him and Ehlam?

I had no idea, but neither had I any choice in whether to follow him out the door. Azriel raised his hand to the doors, pressed his palm against the crack between them in shoulder-height. His shoulder-height, that was. A soft nimbus enveloped his hand, and then slowly seeped over to the door, gathering at the heart of the intricately carved phoenix I hadn't noticed until now.

"There. Let's go." And he turned on his heel and strode down the corridor, hardly bothering to look back to see if I was following. I was, though. What other choice did I have? Besides, it was my first chance to see the Queen.

I followed Azriel through corridor upon corridor, until he stopped before a door not too unlike his own or Ehlam's. What was different, though, was that a guard was stationed outside it. As she, for it was a female guard, saw us, she nodded at Azriel in greeting, and went inside. A few seconds later, the door opened for us, and we entered the room.

I looked around the room briefly. The walls were covered with lush draperies, except for in front of the wide windows that let in the bright sunlight. The simple throne was, I noticed, very strategically placed to make people really notice the one sitting on it. To enhance their majesty, sort of giving them a halo. A second later, my eyes fell upon the woman occupying the throne, and my mouth fell open.

I hadn't believed anyone could be that beautiful. Her hair was platinum blonde with a slight blue tinge. Most of it was set into an elaborate style, while a few tendrils sneaking down her chest showed exactly how long it was. Her dress was... very enhancing; showing off her figure without revealing scandalously much. I couldn't see any make-up, and that made her perfect features even more beautiful. The over-all impression was very awe-inspiring.

A slight movement on the outskirts of my vision made my eyes flicker away from the Queen in time to see Azriel bow deeply, touching his brow and heart. Quickly I followed suit, so as not to appear either rude or ludicrous.

"This is the boy who was found near the battle-field, Azriel?" she asked in a soft alto voice.

Azriel nodded. "Yes, my Queen."

She looked at me, her pale grey eyes twinkling in the slight sunlight. "And your name is?"

"Elias, my Queen."

She nodded. "I'm pleased to meet you", she said.

I smiled at her. "Believe me, the pleasure is all mine." And then I flushed at her kind laugh.

The laugh abruptly ended as the Queen looked at Azriel. "Azriel, there has been another challenge."

Azriel sighed beside me. "I'm not exactly surprised over that. The Dragon Lord has always been greedy and stubborn."

I blinked. Somehow the words greedy and stubborn didn't exactly fit in with my mental image of Willow.

"The time of the battle has been set till tomorrow at noon."

Azriel nodded. "I understand. I will ready my troops."

"Good. There were a few other things I wished to discuss with you in private." She turned to me. "You may leave, Elias."

I blinked, then bowed and left the room.

Part Six

He looked down at the boy, sleeping peacefully. It wasn't right, Azriel thought, to wake him up just to say good-bye. Elias deserved a few hours' more sleep. After all, they hadn't slept much during the night, having decided it was so much nicer to explore each other's bodies.

He strapped on his sword-belt, smiling slightly. There were not many with the length of legs necessary to carry a long-sword at the hip. He looked at Elias for a few seconds more, then he sighed and turned.

"Good-bye, Elias", he said softly. "I'll see you tonight when the battle's over."

And with that he left the room to go to war.

Part Seven

When I woke up, I was alone. After having certified that Azriel was nowhere within his suite, I quickly dressed and went out into the palace. I grabbed hold of the first servant I saw.

"Excuse me, but where is Lord Azriel?"

He blinked at me and glanced at the phoenix pin at my collar. "He left with the other warriors two hours ago for the battle-field."

I stood still in shock. I always hated to have my fears confirmed. As I a few seconds later realized I still held on to the boy's arm, I forced my fingers open. "Thank you", I said, although I wasn't sure I meant it. The servant nodded at me and took off down the corridor.

Azriel couldn't be out there alone! He mustn't! Well, technically I supposed he wasn't really alone, but if my pictures had come true as that other picture with me in...

I froze. How had Azriel left? Had he been standing over my sleeping body, armour on, not wanting to wake me to say good-bye? Had he made my other picture with me come true as well? If he had, it was even more vital that I get out on that battle-field.

The Queen. I had to ask her for permission to go out and fight. Of course, I didn't know how to fight, having only played with a stick sometimes like most boys, but it wasn't to fight I needed to be there. I needed to be there in case Azriel met Willow.

"Let's see", I murmured as I searched my way down the corridors. Which way was it? I seemed to recall me and Azriel going left somewhere there, and then right, and then forward a long way, and then...

"Hah!" Triumphantly I looked at the guard standing by a large door some ways ahead. I approached him.

"Excuse me", I said, and he looked at me. I swallowed at his almost purple eyes. "I would like to see the Queen, please."

He raised one eyebrow. "May I ask for what purpose?"

"I need to ask something of her."

"And you are so special that she would see you?"

"Please. Could you just ask? My name's Elias. Please ask her if she could see me."

He sighed. "All right. Wait here." He vanished inside the room, and was gone for a few minutes. When he finally came out again, he bore an incredulous look on his face.

"The Queen has agreed to see you." He held the door slightly open for me to slip through. Obviously he didn't like the thought of a servant getting an audience with the Queen.

* * *

"Ah, Elias", the Queen smiled at me. "How nice to see you again."

She wasn't wearing the same dress — why should she? This one was slightly more modest, and a pale grey, lined with silver, instead of the previous day's violet-and-gold.

I bowed deeply. "Thank you for seeing me, my Queen."

"How could I not? Now what was it you wanted to ask of me?"

I looked up at her. "I need to get out on the battle-field."

She blinked slowly. "Pray tell why?"

"I..." I looked down. How was I supposed to explain it without sounding foolish? "I just have to. Hopefully, it's unnecessary, but there is a possibility I need to be there." I looked up at her. "I'm
sorry, but I can't explain it any better. I wish I could but..."

"As you wish", she cut me off. "Which weapon are you proficient in?"

I blinked. If I said 'none', she'd most probably change my mind, basing her decision on me being useless and only in danger out there. "Short sword, my Queen", I said, mostly on impulse. After all, that was what I'd been carrying in my picture. Then I silently cursed myself. If I had chosen another weapon, that image -couldn't- come true this time, could it? But a short sword, I imagined, was easiest to fake proficiency with.

The Queen waved her hand, and a young servant boy stepped into view. "Please show Elias to the armoury and help them find a suitable armour for him."

The boy bowed, and then gestured for me to follow him.

* * *

It felt odd, wearing armour, feeling the weight of a short sword at my hip. The boy and the armourer had quickly selected a sturdy leather hauberk, and then I got a well-balanced sword as well.

And now I was supposed to get up on a horse to get there. It was huge.

"How on Earth am I going to get up on that?" I asked incredulously. The horse was at least as high as I was myself.

The stable girl sighed and rolled her eyes heavenwards. Then she led the horse towards a fence. "There!" she said. "Climb up there and get up on it."

I swallowed, but clambered up on the gelding — whatever that was — that way. "And now?" I asked, holding on to the pommel with all my strength.

"Now you sit still." And then she jumped up on the horse behind me and grabbed the reins that were lying before me. And then she urged the horse onward.

The journey took little more than perhaps twenty minutes, half an hour, but during that time, I vowed at least fifty times to myself never ever to get up on a horse again. When I finally caught sight of the battle, I was more than relieved, and it didn't take long after she'd stopped it before I was on the ground.

"Thanks", I told her before edging closer to the fighting, keeping an eye out for Azriel.

There were people everywhere. Some were wearing dragon-like helmets and armours, other were clothed like phoenixes or wearing a crescent-sword crest. I saw a few that obviously served the Peacock Lord, and even one who wore a crimson armour and wielded a long sword with a
wavy blade. As he turned slightly to face another opponent, I saw that he wore a facemask — I hope, at least — that looked like a human skull.

Where was he? Where was Azriel? I searched frantically to find that long black braid I knew he wore during battle. To no avail. There were too many people.

It was almost too late when I saw a glimpse of pale green hair in dragon armour. As I looked on in horror, he stepped up to a man I knew only too well, and attacked him.

They were even, I had to admit. One moment, it was Willow pressing Azriel back, the next the situation was reversed. Then I saw it happening. Azriel's foot caught on a fallen soldier as he took a step backwards. In slow-motion I saw him fall, his head landing squarely upon the fallen soldier's breast-plate. In slow-motion, Azriel's helmet tumbled off his head. In slow-motion Willow raised his sword, hilt to his shoulder, preparing to strike upon the practically defenceless Azriel.

"No!" I screamed as I threw myself towards them. It was so far away. I would never make it in time. "Damn you, Willow!" I yelled.

The fair-haired Dragon Lord looked up slightly, and seemed to let his guard down slightly. But then he tensed again, and when I was three yards from them, he lowered the sword to Azriel's bared throat.

I froze.

Willow chuckled, although I hardly heard it from the clamour all around. "Drop your weapon or leave."

What choice did I have? I forced my fingers open, the forgotten sword falling to the ground.

"Come here."

Again, what choice did I have? I couldn't let him kill Azriel. Somewhere deep inside, I knew what was going to happen, and I felt ill at the thought. Slowly I edged closer to Willow, trying to avoid
looking at Azriel, afraid of what I'd see. So instead, I kept my eyes on Willow, and to my horror saw him raise his blade slightly, his muscles tensing to prepare for the thrust.

"No, please!" I begged. "Don't kill him!"

Willow chuckled again, a soft, throaty laughter that told me altogether too much about how nice he was. Or wasn't.

"Why not, little one?" he asked derisively.

What answer should I give him? That I loved him? That would surely cause Azriel's death. That I was under him in command? He surely knew that, and it wouldn't help me saving him. With a dread feeling that formed like a hard, heavy knot in the pit of my belly, I knew how I could save him.

I sank to my knees before Willow. "Please, my lord. I'll do anything for you if you let him live."

"Oh?" There was a definitely interested note in his voice. The sword fell to his side and started tapping against his foot. "Anything, you say?"

I swallowed. "Yes. I'll give myself to you entirely if you just let him live."

"Interesting notion." I could feel the sly grin in his voice. "Take off your helmet."

I reached up and unclasped the band that secured the helmet, and let the skull cap fall to the ground.

A few moments' silence. Then, "Very well. I accept. Come with me."

I looked up at his outstretched hand. I closed my eyes briefly in a short moment of despair when I realized what I had done, then I took his hand and allowed him to pull me up. I looked down at Azriel.

"I'm sorry, Azriel", I whispered. Then I was dragged away by Willow. //I'm so sorry, Azriel. But it was the only thing I could do.//

In a daze I heard Willow give the order to retreat, then I felt a dizzying sensation as the world blackened and an icy chill enveloped me for the briefest of seconds.

"Stay in here", Willow murmured. "I'll be back soon."

//Probably sooner than I want//, I thought, nodding numbly.

Willow let go of my hand and walked away, his boots going clickety-clack on the stone floor. A click from a door latch, a few seconds later a heavy, dull boom as the door fell closed again. I sat down on the floor and studied my surroundings.

A small room. No furniture except a narrow cot in one corner. A short — two steps or so — stairway led up to the heavy door Willow had exited through. A small window on the opposite wall; barred, of course. A cell. I sighed, and — having nothing better to do — waited for Willow's return.

Part Eight

He slowly pried his eyes open, and winced at the light that stabbed his head full of pain.

"He's waking up now", he heard an excited, female voice.

Quick, somehow male steps. A callused right hand took hold of his. Instead of opening his eyes again, he searched for the ring finger, to check the emblem there. He found it at the same time as the man spoke.

"I'm glad you're all right, Azriel", Ehlam said. "I was afraid you'd gone and killed yourself."

Azriel frowned. What was the last thing that had happened? He remembered fighting Willow, then he'd somehow slipped or stumbled, and fallen, and then... Then everything had gone black. Why had Willow spared him? He opened his mouth, but only managed a hoarse croak.

"Hush", Ehlam said. A hasty movement, a soft clink, and then the cool rim of a goblet was held to his lips. Greedily, he emptied the cup, and then tried again.

"What happened, Ehlam?"

"The Goddess be praised", Ehlam muttered. He raised his voice. "I'm not sure. I was sort of busy. I only know that suddenly the attack was called off, and then we found you unconscious."

Azriel forced his eyes open, and squinted against the light. Not his quarters. Infirmary, most likely. He could see Ehlam's familiar red-head to his right, and glimpsed a young healer somewhere to the left, so he seemed OK. He shook his head slightly and winced. At least a mild concussion.

"Don't do that", the healer admonished. Yes, it was the same voice he'd heard earlier.

"Just testing. Sorry." He sat up. Ehlam tried to push him back, but Azriel refused to yield.

"Here", the healer said, bringing him another cup. "Drink this. It'll lessen your headache."

Gratefully, Azriel accepted the cup, and tasted it. Bitter, of course, with a slight aftertaste of something he recognized, but couldn't quite place. Then he shrugged, and drained the cup.

"Good. Now sleep. You'll feel better tomorrow." Ehlam rose. "The Queen will want to see you, I guess. She ordered me to come and tell her when you were all right."

//Sleep?// Azriel thought, then blinked and yawned. Ehlam was right. He was so tired. //Oh. So that was what it was//, he thought sluggishly, leaned back, and closed his eyes.

* * *

"I'm glad to see you are alright, Azriel." The Queen smiled warmly.

"Thank you for your concern, but it's nothing, really. I've been worse injured before."

"Yes, I know. But Elias had me slightly worried even before."

Azriel sat up straight in his chair. "Elias?" He hadn't seen the boy since he woke up, and when he'd asked someone to go find Elias, they'd replied that he was nowhere to be found.

She nodded. "He came to me approximately two hours after you had left, begging me to be allowed to go into battle. He said that it might be that he'd be needed. He sounded quite serious, and flustered over not being able to explain. I've seen moments of divine inspiration before, and this seemed very much like one of those."

"Divine inspiration?" Suddenly a thought hit Azriel. "If you would excuse me, my Queen. There's something I would need to check on."

The Queen seemed surprised. "Certainly. Just don't strain yourself."

"No, my Queen", he smiled, bowed slightly and turned to leave her private audience chambers.

* * *

He strode quickly through the corridors, deeply engrossed in thought. Had Elias seen something of what would be happening? And if so, had he drawn an image of it? He'd seen Willow, and had drawn Azriel himself for over five years. Perhaps...

He threw open his door, and then crossed the room to the window where Elias' things lay. The book lay open, perhaps blown so by the slight breeze coming through the other window standing slightly ajar.

He looked at the picture of himself sitting in his arm-chair for a few seconds, before he turned the page. And froze.

He touched the picture lightly, caressed the image of himself, and then Willow's.

"Dear goddess", he whispered. So Elias -had- seen the battle. Again he turned the page. He sank to the floor, the book in his hands.

Was that what had happened? How had he fallen? But at least he understood why his head hurt. Breast-plates were hard, and to fall and hit your head on one...

Then he caught sight of the small figure running towards them through the turmoil. A small boy dressed in a standard leather cuirass. Holding a short sword terribly wrong; like a stick instead of like a weapon. He was shouting something in panic as Willow raised his sword to strike at the unmoving Azriel.

"The boy -is- gifted", he breathed. Wondering what was on the next page, he flipped it over. Silence reigned the room for over a minute. Then a heavy, anxious breath was heard.

"No." Azriel shook his head in disbelief. "No, Elias. I don't believe it. Not even you could be so stupid." But of course. Elias wouldn't know Willow. Couldn't know how he treated his prisoners. Especially pretty young lads like Elias. Especially if they didn't like it.

Azriel knew. Azriel knew only too well. He had once been one of those too pretty boys. Willow had looked the same then. Luckily, he'd managed to escape, since he'd managed to swallow his pride long enough for Willow to start trusting him a little. Then an open window had been all he'd needed.

And now Elias was in the clutches of that fiend.

"Elias..." Azriel closed his eyes briefly and tilted his head backwards. "I hope you're all right." He looked down at the picture. "I'll come to save you, Elias. I swear."

Part Nine

"There, there, my little bird", a voice smirked behind me, making me spin around to face the green-haired fiend that now rather literally owned me.

I'd been alone in my cell for a longer time than I would have wanted to. Even though I feared Willow, and would have preferred to stay there, the thought that he'd eventually come back had kept me from relaxing. Anything was better than that pointless waiting. I'd since long removed my armour, seeing as it wasn't quite me, and realizing it would not serve any purpose here.

Resolutely I walked up to him, noticing that he must be well over six feet tall. But however determined I might be, I still couldn't keep myself from flinching when he reached out with one slender, long-fingered hand, drawing — scraping — the nail of his index finger along my cheek bone. I could feel his smirk, and it began to bother me. Why was he smirking all the time?

"Will you try to escape?" he suddenly asked.

I looked up at him in some puzzlement. Of course I'd try, given the opportunity. However, I had no idea of where I was, nor how to get out of the building. For all I knew, we could be miles from the Queen's castle, in a stronghold covering an area half the size of Tokyo. Unlikely, but still...

"Will you?" The tone in his voice told me he would not ask again.

I looked down. "Well..." I began. "I'd like to, but I have no idea of where this place is, and besides..." I sighed. "I figure that as long as I co-operate, you'll leave Lord Azriel alone. Am I right?" I dared a glance up at his face, just in time to see a self-satisfied grin cover his lips. A second later, it was gone.

"Of course I will. But if you do try to escape, you'll regret it. Remember that."

//Why do you care about Azriel?// a voice in my head asked me, totally emotionlessly. //After all, he's just a figment of your imagination. You can always draw him back from the dead if he dies.//

True, but I still had no wish of seeing him harmed.

"Come along then, little bird", Willow purred. He opened the door behind him, and gestured me outside.

I studied my surroundings as thoroughly as I could while he led me through winding passages and long, torch-lit corridors. I very soon lost track of all turns and stairways. When he finally stopped,
though, I reflected over the fact that we'd gone up as many stairs as we'd gone down. Probably he had just led me in circles for a while trying to confuse me. Which he had, I had to admit, succeeded in.

We stood before a nondescript door in a corridor with no other doors. I didn't have time to wonder what was inside before he opened it and prodded me inside.

A bedroom, window-less and lit up by a blazing hearth. Before I had time to see much more than the large, grand-lit bed, Willow poked me in the back, making me continue into the room. I turned to see him close the door and do that glow-sealing I'd seen Azriel do. I turned back and studied the room. A bed, yes, but the other... accessories... couldn't quite be credited a bedroom. The pair of manacles on one wall made me freeze all over. The whip lying neatly rolled up on the small table in one corner was even worse. What kind of sadistic creep was this Willow?

Said Willow slid past me, and strolled up to the armchair sitting beside the table. He turned and gracefully seated himself.

I remained where I was, uncertain. Willow said nothing, just looked at me, somehow expectantly, a glint of... laughter? in his crimson eyes. Finally, I couldn't stand that look anymore.

"What do you want from me anyway?" I snapped.

"What I want from you?" Willow raised one eyebrow; the only one I could see. What was that dark green patch above his left eye? A tattoo? "I want", Willow continued, "your body."

I blinked and took one step backwards in shock. "Excuse me?"

He sneered. "Made you lose your composure, did I? I apologize." He didn't look the least apologetic. Suddenly he rose and swiftly crossed the room. He grabbed hold of my chin, and tilted my head backwards so I was looking straight into his eyes. "I -will- have your body. And I will have you -begging- me to take you."

"Never", I managed to get out. Those burning eyes made me shiver all over. They terrified me. There was something dark hidden behind them. Something... sleeping. Waiting. And I didn't want to know what it was.

Willow just smiled. "We'll see. I'll break you, sooner or later. I've always enjoyed a good chase."

Enjoyed a good chase? I felt almost sick. He wanted me to resist him. I glanced towards the whip at the table. If I -did- resist him, he'd probably see it as an excuse to...

"Don't worry, little bird", Willow said soothingly. "As long as you're a good boy, I will let it remain there."

So he'd noticed.

"Shall we begin?" he asked, and led me towards the armchair with a firm grip around my neck. I blinked, perplexed as he sat down in it once more. He was smiling kindly, yet there was no warmth in his smile. It was as cold as the grave. "Be a good boy now", he smiled. "Down on your knees."

Fury flashed through my mind before I managed to control it. //It's for Azriel//, I reminded myself. Besides, if he wanted me to resist, I couldn't very well do that, could I? Steeling myself, I forced
myself to kneel before him, not meeting his gaze.

"Ah", Willow breathed, somewhat appreciative. "I'm impressed."

A motion made me look up. My eyes widened with something not far from fear when I saw he was unlacing his pants. I clenched my jaws and looked away. I couldn't.

//Remember Azriel//, the strange, observing voice pointed out.

Azriel, yes. I'd almost forgotten for a moment. I had to. That was what I'd said, wasn't it? I'd do anything for Willow to spare Azriel's life. I felt ill at that thought. I hadn't quite imagined he'd do this, but said was said, I supposed. Azriel's world was not one where you gave your word lightly. It had never been, not even once during all those years I'd made it up.

So when Willow's hand reached out to cradle the back of my head, gently but firmly guiding me to his crotch, I closed my eyes and let him.

//Just imagine it's Azriel//, I told myself.

Seeing as I wasn't resisting, the hand was removed from my head.

Azriel. I kept him firmly in my mind as I continued to go down on the one before me. Azriel.

Azriel moaned slightly, no more than a strained exhalation, and sighed. "Oh yes", he breathed. "That's a good boy."

Wanting to impress my love, I gave him the best I could, which — if you were to believe the judgement of my only ex-boyfriend — wasn't bad at all. According to him, I was better than any girl he'd ever had.

"That's a good little whore", Azriel said, and I froze as reality forced its way back. "Did you do this well with Azriel too?"

I gagged, and threw myself as far away from Willow as I could, staring at him in horrified revulsion.

His eyes narrowed, and an icy calm settled on his face. "I see." He snapped his fingers, and I heard soft footsteps approach. Within the room. Alarmed, I turned to see who it was, feeling myself go pale as I saw a large, brutish man come out from a couple of draperies I'd dismissed earlier as unimportant.Had he been there all along? Had he seen — or heard — my humiliation?

"Panther", Willow said then. "This one refuses to co-operate, although he vowed he'd do whatever I wanted."

The man — Panther — looked at me, eyes narrowed. "What do you wish me to do, my Lord?" Even his voice was brutish.

"Teach him that doing what I say the first time is easier than protesting."

"What am I allowed to do?"

Willow smiled coldly at me. "Do whatever you wish. But don't harm him." I let out a small sigh of relief. Willow's smile broadened. "Not permanently."

Coldness gripped me. I looked between Panther and Willow. Of the two of them, Willow was decidedly the most beautiful. I didn't want Panther to do anything, especially as it wouldn't stop Willow from... tormenting me afterwards. I made a quick decision, and swallowed. "Please, Lord Willow. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disobey you. Please. I won't do it again."

Willow made a small gesture with his hand, barely more than moving his fingers a little, and Panther, who'd begun to close in on me, stopped. "Convince me", was all he said.

I clenched my teeth, the cold knot in my belly growing even larger. Not enough that he was going to hurt me, and most probably rape me, he wanted to make me humiliate myself too. But one glance towards Panther assured me that humiliation was well worth not being touched by that animal. I didn't know what he'd do, and frankly I didn't want to know.

So I managed to swallow my pride, tried to imagine what he wanted me to do. Then I crawled up to him on my knees — had I stood up to walk, he'd probably have seen that as insubordination. Shame stung my cheeks, and I couldn't bear looking at Willow, instead looking down at the floor between his feet. I had never bowed to anyone, even for Julian. But then again, I had never had a really good reason to, had I? Back there, I could always comfort myself that if they tried anything, I could always report them to the police. Here, there didn't seem to be any laws other than 'might is right', and even if there were, Willow probably wouldn't care.

"Please, my Lord. Please allow me to serve you." My voice was little more than a whisper. I hated myself for what I was doing, but as I'd told myself before, it was better than being abused by that beast Panther.

A finger touched my jaw, sliding round to under it, lifting my head up. Willow's crimson eyes were almost burning, the moss green patch above his left eye seemingly almost blackish in comparison. "So you want to serve me?"

My voice failed me, so I nodded. His slight scowl made me swallow, and then hastily say, "Yes, my lord."

"I'm glad to hear that." He sat back. "You may continue."

I closed my eyes briefly, then put my hands on the arm supports of his chair and heaved myself upwards to take his organ back into my mouth. His hand sneaked inconspiciously into my hair. Inconspiciously my foot. It might seem casual, but I knew it was to control me, to hold me there, not allowing me to move more than necessary.

Then I panicked as I felt someone that had to be Panther grab hold of my pants, attempting to remove them. Willow's hand clenching stopped my thrashing about. When I was still, frozen in fear, he spoke.

"You do understand, don't you, that I have to punish you, little bird. You deliberately disobeyed me, and I won't tolerate that."

I whimpered. //Don't let him do this to me//, a frantic voice in my head begged, but even if my speech hadn't been hindered, I would never have been able to say those words.

"Now stay still and allow him to remove your trousers, or he'll tear them from you." And as a warning afterthought, "Yes, he is strong enough."

I swallowed, as much as I could, and then tried to relax. I didn't want my only clothes to break.

My trousers were removed, and then I heard him move about slightly, placing himself. I tried to glance back at him, but Willow wouldn't let me. //Please//, I thought desperately. //Please don't do this.// But Willow's hand entwined in my hair told me he wouldn't accept any more 'insubordination'. And I suspected — no, I knew — that if I even tried to fight them, I would be much worse for wear afterwards. Willow's warning came back to me. //Don't worry, little bird. As long as you're a good boy, it will remain there.// Whips hurt, didn't they? I didn't know how much, though. I had never tried, and I wasn't that anxious to find out.

A soft-yet-hard object touched my ass, and I tensed.

"I see", Willow chuckled. "So you want to wipe away what little lubrication he has?"

Again I strained to see, but it was in vain. I swallowed as best as I could, extracting a slightly harder breath from my tormentor, and then slowly forced myself to relax. Since it seemed I had no choice, I could at least make it as easy as possible for me. It disgusted and scared the shit out of me, having to submit to rape, but...

Panther chose that moment to push into me. The pain was worse than anything I'd felt before. He didn't even try to be gentle, like Azriel. I took a deep breath when he paused, foolishly thinking it
was over for the moment. It wasn't. He pulled out slightly, then pushed in as far as he could in one, brutal thrust.

I screamed, or at least I began to, before Willow forced my head down again, gagging me quite effectively with himself. Now that I couldn't scream any more, tears started to appear in my eyes, and ran freely down my cheeks. It hurt so much, and I hated them so much, and I just wanted to go home. Home to Azriel.

I think anyone would have reacted the same way. At least I comfort myself with that thought. Anyone would have screamed and cried.

Soon, however, the pain in my rear dulled, and I hardly noticed it anymore. I didn't even have to do any work with Willow. Panther aided me in that with his forceful thrusting. A sort of calm had come over me. The less I fought them, the sooner they were finished, and the sooner I would be left alone. So I closed my eyes and let them take me, one in each end. But even if I could stop resisting, I couldn't stop my tears. They continued to flow down my cheeks worse than the Niagara from pain and shame.

A groan, followed by a few long, slow, hard thrusts from behind, and then stillness, told me Panther was finally finished. He remained still for longer than I could have ever wanted, and then pulled out. A sigh of relief left me before Willow started to take my mouth harder, holding my head in place. I could hardly breathe, and the gag reflex set in more than once. But he ignored it. He hardly even paused during my throat's worst fights with me over whether he was allowed to remain in it. We, my throat and I, didn't win that case. He did.

I hadn't even thought about what would happen when he came, but as he didn't stop, even as he began to breathe slightly harder, I began to realize what was to happen. He wouldn't pull out. I tried to resign, to accept it. I thought I had, but as the sweet, cloying liquid hit my tongue and the roof of my mouth, and I was forced to swallow in order not to choke, my stomach revolted. I had barely time to tear myself from Willow's relaxed grip and throw myself to one side of the arm-chair before everything came up again.

"Did you like that?" Willow chuckled as I slowly recovered from my heaving. I wiped my mouth and sat up on my heels. As I looked up at him, his eyes were narrowed, and his mouth a thin line. His whole composure screamed 'anger'. And this despite having chuckled only a few seconds before. "What did you mean by that?" he asked me.

I didn't even bother with being scared or apologetic. Right now I felt too weary and sick. "I'm sorry", I said simply. "Would you rather I'd have thrown up on you?" It was foolish, yes. But at the
moment I didn't care. Nothing he could do could be worse than what he had already done to me.

Willow sighed and shook his head, somehow sounding amused. "What am I to do with you, my little bird?" He grabbed hold of my jaw and pulled me upwards. I stumbled to stand. "So innocent." He smiled coldly. "You -will- get used to it, sooner or later. The longer time it takes, the better."

I shuddered.

"And I will notice it if you pretend. Don't think I am that foolish." He looked up. "Panther, get me my dinner."

"Yes, my Lord", Panther rumbled behind me, and he walked away. In the corner of my eye I saw him vanish behind those draperies. A door opened and closed, and then he was gone.

There was a door there? Oh thank God, there was a way for me to escape from this room when the time was right.

Willow smiled. "That door leads to my personal guard's quarters. They would welcome a pretty such as you, I'm certain."

Did he just say that, or was it the truth? I swallowed.

"Undress."

A simple command, expected to be obeyed. Yet it filled me with dread. My tunic was the only piece of clothing I wore now. And I wasn't allowed to wear it anymore? I closed my eyes briefly in despair. Then, just as Willow's grip tightened to the point of hurting, I began to wriggle out of my clothes.

Standing naked before Willow made me as ashamed as I had been undressing for the first time before Azriel.

Azriel. Just the thought of his name sent a flash of pain through my chest. My beautiful Azriel. When would I ever see you again?

"Pretty nice, don't you think?" Willow reached out and trailed one sharp nail across my chest.

I didn't reply. I didn't think I had to. His tone wasn't questioning, merely contemplative.

"I bet Azriel thought so too. And for free, too. The perfect whore."

//I'm no whore!// my mind screamed at him, but I didn't dare voice my thoughts.

"And now you're my whore. It was so nice of you to offer yourself like that. But I suppose that is the mentality of a whore. Submitting to the one in power. As soon as you saw I was stronger than him, you came to me." He shook his head in amused sadness, if there was such a thing.

I closed my eyes and looked down, tears of shame and indignation stinging my eyes. Although I sensed he was goading me, wanting me to talk back at him, it grew harder and harder to remain silent. Of course, that was the point, wasn't it.

"You know that if you remain silent I take that as an affirmative that I'm right."

That did it. "It's not true, and you know it!" I retorted.

His eyes narrowed, and I knew I'd made a mistake.

"So now you're telling me I'm a liar? Is that it?"

I shook my head quickly. "Of course not."

"And now you contradict yourself. Am I right or not?"

I swallowed. "I..." Now what? If I told him he was wrong, I'd be punished for calling him a liar. And if I said he was right, I gave him the right to call me whore. Though... Weren't I a whore? Selling my body, prostituting myself to save Azriel's life. I swallowed again.

"Yes?"

I closed my eyes in shame. "You're right."

"That's better. Though that means you lied to me before. And we can't have that, now can we?"

My throat locked itself in fear as I heard that, and I could do nothing but stare at him. I could hardly even breathe. As Willow crossed the room and bent down slightly to pick up his whip, I
started to shake my head in denial. No. He couldn't mean that.

"Come here, little bird", Willow cooed.

As I didn't move — and it wasn't really my fault; I was simply completely frozen in terror — his mouth set angrily. I sensed that was bad. I just didn't know how bad it was, and that made me even more nervous, which in turn made me even more unable to move.

"I told you to come here", Willow said smoothly, a veiled threat lying interwoven in his voice like the slightly bitter taste in some kinds of honey.

As he took his first step towards me, my paralyzation faded, and I hurried to meet him. Hopefully if I did as he said, he wouldn't hurt me. At least not so bad.

"Better." A simple word, yet it couldn't have been more contemptuous and belittling. Then he pointed towards the wall with the manacles. I swallowed.

"No", I managed to whisper, even as I started taking the first tentative steps towards the wall. He couldn't... Willow followed close behind me; I felt him there as surely as if he had been touching me.

Willow didn't answer, and as I stopped and turned towards him, my back pressed against the wall, he suddenly smiled.

"You do realize this is only for your own good, don't you?"

I blinked. For my own good? I held back a sharp retort, though, and instead said warily, "I don't see how it could be for my own good."

Willow smiled again. "Why, it is to warn you against doing things against my will again. If I only told you to stop, you'd make mistakes over and over. So it's for the best that I make a clear
statement of what will happen when you do something I don't like."

I swallowed.

"Do you understand that?"

I swallowed again and nodded dejectedly, although I didn't really understand, and didn't really like the notion either. "Yes, I understand", I mumbled.

"Good. That's a good little bird..." He reached out and almost gently took hold of my left wrist and turned me round to face the wall. Then he guided my hand towards the manacles that hung one foot above my head. I had neither strength nor courage to fight him as he fastened both my hands above my head.

"Just five lashes, my pretty", he whispered in my ear. I heard him take a few steps backwards and sobbed in painful, tormenting anticipation. I sensed him raise the hand holding the whip. Then I heard the soft whistle as it flew through the air, and then a crack.

The pain shot through me a few seconds later, burning like hellfire down my spine. The breath I'd been holding since I heard him step away left my lungs in a high-pitched scream as I arched my back to get as far away from him as possible.

Slowly I managed to gather myself, and calm down. Then the crack was heard again, and seconds later another line down my back burned through, spreading from a place merely an inch from my spine and outwards.

As my scream faded into stillness, I was sobbing. No more. Please no more. I would never be able to take even one more of those.

"Of course you can, my pretty bird", Willow said soothingly. "I know you can."

And of course I could. I had no choice. And of course he waited until I had almost completely calmed down before laying another stripe of fire on my back.

It was almost in a haze that I realized that Willow was releasing me, slowly guiding me to a kneeling position. "There, my pretty. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

I just sat there, oddly comforted by his presence. And after a while, out of pain and exhaustion, the world faded. I don't know whether I slept or whether I fell unconscious, but however it was, I welcomed the dark respite from the world's horror.

Part Ten

Tell me where he is!"

"I tell you", the green-haired fiend smiled coldly, "I don't know where he is."

"I don't believe you", Azriel said flatly. He knew this man too well, and he'd seen the proof of Elias' pictures. "I know that Elias left the battle-field with you."

Willow shook his head. "No. He didn't."

//You lying bitch!// Azriel thought, but he said nothing. He didn't want Willow to know how upset he was.

"Tell me, my pretty..." Willow smirked at Azriel's obvious discomfort at hearing his old pet name. "...What does this ...Elias mean to you, since you seem so anxious to get him back?"

Azriel clenched his teeth briefly. "He's a good friend of mine..."

"A servant?" Willow interrupted, raising his right eye-brow — the only one he had — in reproachful surprise.

"Yes, a servant."

"How appropriate", the Dragon Lord murmured, humour colouring his voice.

Azriel ignored him. "And he's one of my most loyal men." A white lie, that. He hadn't had time to test Elias' loyalty yet, but he was fairly sure that if the boy had been obsessed with him for five
years, there ought to exist some loyalty within him, right?

"Ah", was the only thing Willow said, but Azriel could tell by the glint in Willow's crimson eyes that he had drawn his own conclusions already, and wouldn't surrender his idea of the truth no matter what Azriel told him.

"Now where is he?"

Willow raised his hands in a gesture of sympathetic dejection. "I'm sorry, my pretty, but I don't know where your..."

"He's not 'mine'", Azriel muttered. //I wish he was, though.//

"...Elias is", Willow continued as if Azriel hadn't said anything. "But if I find him, I'll contact you and allow you to reunite with him."

Azriel's eyes narrowed in suspicion. There was something wrong with what Willow had just said. Willow never offered anything for free. "And what's the catch?" he asked bluntly.

Willow looked shocked, an expression Azriel knew was faked. "I'm truly hurt by your distrust, my pretty." He got up from his seat and took one step towards Azriel, whose hand involuntarily jumped to his sword-hilt. Willow sighed and shook his head. "I swear, Azriel, Phoenix Lord, that I would not hold him from you."

Azriel, still suspicious, reluctantly released his sword. "Do you swear by the Goddess?"

Willow smiled slightly. "Of course."

"Say it."

Another sigh. "I swear by the Goddess that I will contact you and let you see him, and if he wants to return with you, I will not hold him."

Azriel still didn't believe him, but it had to be enough. Even Willow wouldn't break an oath sworn by the Goddess. He nodded curtly. "Very well, Dragon Lord. I will trust you. But if I ever learn different, you will regret that you ever saw me."

Willow chuckled. "I could never do that. You always were the prettiest, Azriel."

Azriel fought the fear that settled coldly in his stomach as memories rose, bidden by Willow's words. "You're disgusting." And while he still could, he turned on his heel and exited the pavilion that had been erected for their meeting.

Ehlam was waiting a hundred yards away, as was usual during one-on-one meetings during times of war. Now he quickly walked up to Azriel.

"Well?" he asked.

Azriel merely shook his head. "Let's get home first, okay?"

"Sure", Ehalm replied, and followed Azriel's brisk steps towards where their horses were tethered.

* * *

Willow smiled to himself as he heard the faint sounds of hoof-beats as Azriel and his 'body-guard' Ehlam rode away. So Azriel missed his bed-warmer? Good. Azriel stole his toy by escaping. It was only fair that Willow should steal Azriel's. The plan that had begun unfolding in his mind since Azriel had called to this meeting was almost finished. It was the perfect revenge.

Part Eleven

I woke up to find myself back in my cell. My back ached dully, and my stomach growled at me. My ass hurt like hell — especially when I moved — as well as my head and throat. It felt almost as though I had the streps. I had had that once not long ago, and it was not something I wanted back.

Not long ago... Two months, yet right now it felt like ages. So much had happened. First I had fallen down from that roof and found myself in this strange world that -I- had invented, and then I had gone into battle to save my lover. Then Willow, whom I'd drawn just the days before claimed me and took me here, wherever this was. And then he had...

I almost vomited as I remembered with shocking clarity what had happened to me. Oh god. No wonder I hurt. He had... And that Panther... I closed my eyes in despair.

Now I understood why so many women killed themselves after being raped. Or chose to forget. Oh god, how I wished I could forget.

"Azriel..." a voice whimpered, and I realized with some kind of detached wonderment that it was my own. Where was he? Why didn't he come to save me? Surely he'd be here by now if he wanted to?

Another shock hit me, and fear settled in my gut like cold ice. Unless it was... Unless he -didn't- want to save me. But why wouldn't he? I had done nothing to upset him, had I? I had even saved his life! Surely that had to count for something. Right?

"Oh god... Azriel..."

Hard steps in the corridor outside made me freeze, and then a bolt on the other side of the door was pushed aside with a loud clack that echoed down the corridor and in the room. As the door flew open to bang against the wall, I scrambled to my feet and backed away, ignoring the many parts of my body that ached.

As I saw who was standing in that doorway, a shudder went through me. Panther.

"Come", he said, beckoning. "Lord Willow's waiting."

What could I do? Yet it was with the utmost effort that I pushed myself off the wall and walked up to the man I most of all wanted to see dead.

He quickly brought up the one hand he'd been holding half-concealed behind his body, and snapped a metal collar around my neck. I blinked. I blinked again as Panther picked up the leash that trailed from the collar, and gave it a slight but firm tug.

"Come now, kid", he said, and turned on his heel, briskly striding out from the cell. It was all I could do to keep up with him. I didn't want to be dragged, which I was pretty sure he -would- do,
given the chance.

I was led another route than the last time, but yet we seemed to end up before the same door. Panther raised his hand and knocked.

"Come in", was heard from the other side, in that soft voice I detested.

Panther opened the door and pushed me inside.

Willow was sitting at the table, writing at something with a feather pen. He glanced up at me. "Ah, how nice of you to drop by, little bird."

"As if I had much choice", I muttered vehemently. Then I landed on the floor, sent there by Panther's fist.

"Lord Willow is to be spoken to with respect", he told me firmly, but fell silent quite abruptly, though I was certain he had been about to say more.

"Quite true, little bird", Willow said, as though Panther hadn't acted. "You didn't. But it never hurts to be polite, does it?"

I waited, not saying anything.

"Anyhow, I wanted you to come here because I had something to tell you."

"And what's that?" I dared ask, keeping my voice as indifferent as possible.

"I met with your Azriel earlier today."

Those words, so calmly spoken, burned a trail of fire through me. Azriel.

Willow smiled. "Got your attention, did I?" he asked, amused. Then he sobered. "I'm afraid you won't like what I'm going to say next, though." He looked at me gravely. "Your knight in shining armour..." Something in my expression must have interrupted him. He smiled slightly. "Come now, do you expect me to believe you have -not- hoped for him to come?"

I said nothing, but my face must have said more, for he smiled and nodded. "Just as I thought." Again he grew sombre. "But the truth is, he doesn't want you back."

I zoned out. Everything vanished, except those words. //He doesn't want you back.// The ground turned beneath me, and I felt dizzy and light-headed. Then I shook my head and blinked away a few tears.

"No, I don't believe you! Azriel would never do anything like that!" If he did, he wouldn't be my Azriel, the one I had lived with for five years. He couldn't have told Willow that, could he? But I
couldn't stop the doubts that crept up on me from behind, taking hold of me once more. Was that the reason he hadn't showed up yet?

"I'm sorry, my little bird. But it's the truth. He hated it, yet he had to thank me for relieving him of a nuisance."

Tears stung my eyes. No. He couldn't have. "Please tell me it's not true", I heard myself whisper.

Willow merely looked at me until I could bear it no longer and looked down. My Azriel. My beautiful Azriel. Had he truly abandoned me?

"Don't worry. It shouldn't be so horrible to live here. As long as you do what you're told, we ought to get along just fine. All right?"

I felt numb. "Can I..." I began. "Can I think about it?"

Willow chuckled. "Of course, my pretty little bird. Take your time."

//Azriel, help me...// But did Azriel want to help me? Was it true that he didn't want me? I didn't want to think like that. I needed to keep my hopes up.

How could I ever agree to Willow's demands? Do as I was told. Obey him. No way.

I sank to the floor and sat cross-legged, faint from my dilemma and from hunger. Burying my face in my hands, I continued juggling the different alternatives around. But was there really any alternatives?

"Panther", Willow said calmly. "Go and see if my supper is ready."

Supper. Food. Oh gods, I was hungry. As if on cue, my belly growled at me.

"Yes, Lord Willow", Panther replied, and I heard the door open and close. I couldn't help but looking that way, pondering any possibilities of escape.

"I see you've stopped thinking", Willow suddenly said, quite calmly. "Then perhaps you would care to relay your answer to me?"

"I..." I began, tearing my eyes from the door and looking up at him. "I don't know. It's not as if it's an easy choice!"

Willow smiled at me. "Oh but it is. If you do as I say, I won't have to punish you. Just follow my orders, and you'll be safe. It's as simple as that." His crimson eyes seemed to stare right through me, and I looked down.

Was that the alternative I had? Obey him or be beaten into submission? Had he really that power? One furtive glance towards him assured me that he had. I was terrified of that power, terrified of
him. I'm not ashamed to admit it. Anyone would be afraid of him. His cold demeanor, his unwavering calmness in everything he did. I think it was mostly that which unnerved me.

Julian, the bully back home, I could take. His taunting, his leers. They at least had some emotion behind them. Willow... Willow never seemed to feel anything. Nothing except perhaps cold amusement at everything. He seemed so certain that he was better than everyone, not like Julian who'd probably been just hiding his insecurity behind a shell.

I'd never realized until now what a weakling Julian was. I'd been scared of him, yes, because he always threatened to hurt me, always called me names. He hadn't really done anything. One or two gut-punches, a few slight sexual harrassments, but nothing like Willow.

//And now I'm supposed to thank him for realizing what a sorry bastard Julian is?// The thought made my lips curl in disdain. -That- was one thing that would never happen.

But my co-operation would keep me safe. And, more importantly, it would keep Azriel safe. Even if he didn't want me back, even if I had just been a fleeting distraction... //No, don't think like
that!// ...I didn't want him hurt. And if I played along, Willow wouldn't harm him, that was what he had promised. If I played along, perhaps he'd grow to trust me, and allow me some more freedom, and then perhaps I'd be able to escape.

"I..." I finally began. I didn't dare look up at him. "I agree. I'll do as you say."

"There's a good boy." His smile was almost audible.

I swallowed. What had I now started? What if he'd order me to do something I couldn't possibly do? Then he'd have an excuse to beat me.

Again the door opened, distracting my thoughts as the scent of grilled meat wafted over me seconds before Panther passed by to place the tray before Willow. Then he walked back to his place by the door.

I couldn't help but stare transfixed as Willow cut his food and then impaled the piece of meat on his knife. Couldn't help but stare as he slowly brought the food towards his mouth.

He stopped, his lips barely touching the food, and I bit back a groan. Did he have to torture me like this? //Just eat it and be done!//

"Do you want some?" Without thinking of it, I nodded. "Then come here and ask nicely."

So now I would beg for my food like a dog? Anger at his indifferent injustice churned inside my stomach together with hunger. Finally hunger won, and I walked on my knees the two or three yards up to him.

"Please", I said, looking up at him, but the words caught in my mouth. I looked down at my knees and tried again. "Please, my lord, could I have some food?" Would that suffice?

"Ah, yes, you haven't eaten since you got here, have you, little bird?" A soft chuckle. "On the other hand, birds don't eat that much, so I suppose it's all right."

I felt I had to intercede there. I just had to make certain I was polite. Perhaps he wouldn't be angry at me then? "Begging your pardon, my lord, but birds eat almost their own weight every day. I wouldn't call that 'not much'."

I had glanced upwards while speaking, but upon seeing his face, I quickly looked down, coldness settling in my gut.

"Did I ask for your opinion?"

"No, my lord. I'm sorry, but..."

A finger beneath my jaw, pressing upwards, made me fall silent, and then tilted my head backwards, forcing me to look at him.

"Rule number one, little bird. Never speak unless you're spoken to. And don't elaborate. Please. Do you understand?"

I blinked. That could be pretty hard. I was certain I'd never be able to promise to keep quiet, but I could always try, couldn't I? "I'll tr..." I began, just to be silenced by his sharp-nailed finger
pressing up hard into that hollow behind my jaw-bone. I swallowed, and immediately regretted it, since it drove his nail further into my skin.

"Do you understand?" he repeated, and I understood he wouldn't accept less than a 'yes'.

"Yes, my lord", I said.

"There's a good boy", Willow smiled, and patted my head.

I looked down in shame, and then concentrated on sitting silent and still by his feet, ignoring the sweet scent of food on the table, ignoring the images that entered my mind of Willow eating.

Suddenly something sweet nudged my lips, and I opened my mouth before realizing it had to be a piece of meat. I quickly stole it from the knife, before he could change his mind. I didn't dare upset him right now.

Time passed by, interrupted now and then by Willow's knife snaking down to me so I could gnab whichever piece of food he'd decided to give me. And I stayed 'good', not daring to call his attention, afraid of what he'd do.

Finally, when a pleasing sense of at least half-satisfiance had settled in my stomach, Willow put away his knife. Panther stepped up and picked up the tray and left with it.

Willow turned to me. "There, little bird. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

That part hadn't, no. "No, my lord." I stopped myself before I could continue. //But how will it be later on?// I asked myself instead.

"Good boy."

I shuddered. It really sounded as though he was praising a dog. And I had to admit that with this collar thingie around my neck, I pretty much felt like a dog.

Willow suddenly rose, and I scuttled a few feet back. But he didn't even try to threaten me. Instead he almost smiled, but somehow, that smile made me even more afraid of him. He flicked his fingers slightly, beckoning me to get up, and I had no alternative but to rise, since I didn't want to get punished for disobeying him.

"Come here", he said, taking hold of the leash and tugging slightly. As he turned to walk, I fell into step behind him.

"Where are we going?" I asked as we stepped outside into the corridor.

"That's four", was all Willow said as he continued.

"Four what?"

"And that's six lashes."

"-What-??"

"Seven." He suddenly stopped and turned to face me. "I would advise you to keep quiet." I swallowed. "Seven lashes are two more than yesterday, and I'm all too certain you remember what you thought about that."

I felt the colour drain from my face as his words started to make sense to me. Seven... whiplashes? One for each word? As he turned to continue, I was barely able to stumble in his wake.

Luckily for me, I didn't have to walk far. Just a few doors down the corridor, Willow stopped, causing me to stumble into him. I froze, certain he'd see that as an excuse to add to his pleasure, but he barely even looked at me as he unsealed the door and opened it. I peered around him, trying to see what was behind the door. Willow chuckled at that and stepped forward, puling me with him into the room so I got a clear sight of it.

It surprised me. I had expected some kind of torture chamber, but instead it was a small bedroom. A narrow bed, perhaps two-and-a-half feet broad, and a small table beside it was the only furniture. The window was barred with an elaborate grid of black metal.

"This is your room", Willow said. "It's your reward for submitting to me."

At least I wouldn't have to go back to that cold cell anymore, it seemed. At least not if I... behaved.

He turned towards me and again tilted my head backards with a finger under my chin, so that I was forced to look at him.

"You can ease your punishment", he said. "Just give me pleasure, and I'll remove a few lashes."

So if I went down on him, or let him take me, he wouldn't whip me as much. Exchange one punishment for another. No way. I still had my pride, and here it seemed as though I had a choice. I shook my head.

Willow looked searchingly at me for a few moments, then nodded. "I see. I'll see you tomorrow, then."

I blinked. Tomorrow?

He smiled. "I have to let your back rest a bit more." He trailed a finger down my spine and I started at the pain that followed his touch. "I wouldn't want to kill you, after all. Seven lashes almost do that. Ten most certainly does."

He couldn't be telling me the truth, could he? He had to be lying. Ten lashes couldn't kill anyone, could they? I tried to remember what history classes had said about medieval punishments. It must have been more. But if it was so, if Willow had told me the truth, how much did those five I'd already received count for? After all, two days wasn't that much time, was it?

"I'll ask you once more tomorrow", Willow said, before patting my head and walking out of the room, closing the door behind him.

I waited a few minutes, until I was certain he had to have gone, and then I quickly checked the door, just to be certain.

It was locked.

So it seemed I had no choice but to go to sleep. Carefully I crawled into the bed, pulling the right now divine covers around me, and attempted sleep.

Seven lashes. Would I be able to take them? I had barely managed two yesterday, how would I ever be able to take seven?

My mind went in circles, repeating that over and over again. Seven lashes. Ten most certainly killed. Seven added to the five yesterday...

At last, I fell into a troubled sleep.

Part Twelve

He smiled as he left the boy. Such a fine specimen. He was already responding. Not too much. Just enough to encertain that his submissions were real. Too much too fast, and they were pretending, trying to ease their treatment. Most certainly his acceptance to obey all rules had been a sham, but he'd rewarded him all the same. Submission led to rewards, while disobedience to expressed rules meant punishment.

He was still smiling as he entered his own chamber, where Panther was once more standing attention. Good.

Panther greeted him with a slight bow, touching brow and heart.

"Thank you, Panther", Willow said with a slight smile. "You were always my most trusted ally." Which of course meant nothing.

"I live to please you, my Lord", Panther replied, straight-faced.

"That's good. Because right now, I need some pleasing." He gestured slightly to the floor before him.

Panther, quick as always to understand what he meant, dropped to his knees before Willow and opened his Lord's pants.

//Ah yes//, Willow thought as Panther's mouth descended on him. //The perfect revenge. He'll be so changed that Azriel doesn't recognize him. And that's when I'll return the boy. I'm sure Azriel will be most delighted to have a love slave.// He knew Azriel would not.

Azriel had always been such a bore. But Willow had learnt from him. Never allow anyone freedom unless you're certain of their co-operation. He'd made that mistake once. Azriel had been the only one to escape him. He wouldn't make that mistake ever again.

Part Thirteen

I... cannot make myself write of what happened then. Suffice it to say that it was a time of both physical and emotional torment for me, and that he eventually broke me. After only a few days, most of the fight had gone out of me, and within two weeks, I had no longer any will of my own to fight with. It shames me to admit it, but it's the truth.

Perhaps I will write about it later; now I cannot. Forgive me.

Part Fourteen

Azriel looked around himself with suspicion and worried recognition. He hated these halls. He had too many bad memories of them. Of Willow.

"Lord Willow is ready to see you know, Phoenix Lord", a servant said, and gestured down the short corridor forward that led to House Dragon's audience chamber.

He took a deep breath to steel himself, and then entered.

How many years had it been since he had been standing here last time? He hadn't been old then. Fifteen, perhaps. He wondered how old Willow was. He'd have to have been at least twenty at that time. And he hadn't aged a day. //I wonder how he's managed that.//

And there he was. Sitting in that dragon-visaged throne. The throne that was designated to the Ruler of the House. The throne a man comitted heresy to sit on. Azriel didn't bother to hide his contempt and shock at seeing Willow there.

"There you are, my pretty."

And of course he was calling him 'my pretty' once again. A pet's name. "You asked to see me, Dragon Lord."

"Oh yes, -Phoenix Lord-." Willow suddenly looked all too amiable. "Come now, Azriel dear. Why don't you loosen up a bit? For old times' sake?"

Azriel spat. "Why don't I kill you, for old times' sake? Give you another scar, perhaps? Do you enjoy the one Lord Ehlam gave you? Did you enjoy the destruction of your perfect façade?"

Willow chuckled slightly, but Azriel could see he had managed to make a crack in Willow's undentable mask. //Good//, he thought.

"No need to be so agressive, Lord Azriel. After all, we both know what I said last time we met. That I'd send you a summon to retrieve your pet."

"He's no pet", Azriel spat.

Willow smiled.

"Where is he?"

Was it imagination, or did Willow's smile widen ever so slightly? Then the Dragon Lord snapped his fingers, and a side door opened. Azriel tried to keep an eye on Willow and look towards the door at the same time.

As he saw who entered, he failed.

//Elias...//

It was indeed Elias, dressed in a pair of pale green trousers and a tunic of the same colour, so light that it flared slightly around him as he walked. He didn't look towards Azriel, but kept his eyes
somewhere on the ground approximately three feet in front of him.

//Elias...//

Elias walked up to Willow, and went down on one knee, bowing in kneeling position, touching brow and heart. A sign of utter obediance.

//Elias...//

"Yes, my Lord?" Elias asked, his voice lacking that spirited cheerfulness he'd had the last time Azriel had seen him, instead being carefully and calculatedly polite.

//Elias... How can five weeks have changed him so utterly?//

"Yes, Elias", Willow replied. "There is someone I would have you to meet." He gestured towards where Azriel stood, and Elias turned his head to look at the Phoenix Lord.

"Elias..." Azriel whispered, half-raising a hand in desperate denial of the state Elias was in. As he saw Elias' reaction, he let the hand fall to his side.

Elias shied back and inch or two, and his eyes widened in fear at the same time as his mouth quirked in disgust. He turned back to Willow, but didn't say anything.

"Don't you want to know why I want you to meet him?"

"Yes, my Lord. Why do you want me to meet him?"

//Elias, please don't do this...//

"Because he's here to take you back."

"No!" Elias exclaimed, and Azriel shattered into thousand pieces of despair. "Please don't send me with..." Willow's look was enough to silence him.

"Little bird, I'm not asking you to go with him", Willow said calmly, and Elias visibly relaxed. "I'm telling you that you will follow him."

Azriel could see Elias tense at those words, but then the boy nodded. "Yes, my Lord. I'm sorry."

"Good boy." Willow flicked his fingers toward Azriel, and Elias rose and walked up to the immobilized Phoenix Lord.

Elias fell to one knee before Azriel, but did not greet him any more than that. Willow stared coldly at his back, but he did not notice that until he rose and went to stand behind Azriel. Then he noticed, and froze and withered.

Walking back, he went down on one knee again, and touched his brow and heart. "I apologize for offending you, Lord Azriel. I will not repeat it."

Azriel could do nothing but stare at him. Was this his Elias? The cheerful lad who always went red in the most charming way.

Elias must have mistaken his silence, for he bowed even deeper. "I submit to whatever punishment you see fit."

Still Azriel could say nothing.

"Well?" Willow asked. "If you worry about not having the right equipment, I would be happy to supply you with that." His eyes shone with mirth, and perhaps it was that which loosened Azriel's tongue.

"That is not necessary. Elias, get up. I'm not angry with you."

"Thank you, my Lord", Elias replied demurely, and rose to stand slightly behind Azriel.

"What have you done to him?" Azriel demanded.

Willow blinked. "Nothing. But he was saying how much he feared your disappointment, so I... educated him in how to avoid it." A perfectly straight face. Not even a hint of a smile.

"You disgust me", Azriel simply said. "If there was nothing else, I will leave." He longed to tell Willow he could keep Elias, for this was not the Elias he wanted back, yet he knew that if he left Elias here, there would be no chance of recuperating him.

In one fluid motion, Willow rose from the throne and walked up to them. Azriel shied away from Willow's hand as he reached out to stroke Azriel's hair. With a small sigh, Willow turned to Elias
instead.

"I'll be sad to see you go, my pretty bird", he said. "But I suppose that is the case with birds. They simply fly away."

"Not if they are restrained, my Lord", Elias whispered to the floor.

Willow smiled fondly. "Ah, my dear Elias. Your comments always amuse me. But the Phoenix Lord has asked to have you back, and I could never deny him anything."

He bent down and planted a soft kiss on Elias' forehead. "I'll miss you. And if you ever find yourself without an owner, remember you'll always have a place here."

"Yes, my Lord. Thank you, my Lord."

"Take this." Willow held out his hand to Elias, who took something from it. "And remember to obey him the way you have showed me you're capable of. Make me proud."

"Enough!" Azriel's voice was rough as he shoved Willow away with a hand on his shoulder. Then he turned. "Come, Elias. We're leaving."

"Yes, my Lord", Elias replied, and a second later, Azriel heard the soft sound of bare feet on the marble floor behind him.

//Dear Goddess, what has happened to him? Please tell me there is a way to reverse it.//

Part Fifteen

The door was standing ajar, so that I more easily could hear my Lord summon me. He'd dressed me today, in a pair of pale green trousers, and a soft tunic that whispered against my body, carressing me almost as pleasantly as Lord Willow when I had been good.

Finally my Lord snapped his fingers, and I rose and entered the hall. Although I was curious as to who was in the hall with him, I kept my eyes on the floor. I knew that if he had visitors, he'd want me to show myself — and him — from my best side. Any mistake I did would reflect on him.

I knelt before him, touching my forehead and heart in greeting.

"Yes, my Lord?" I asked politely.

"Yes, Elias. There's someone I want you to meet." He gestured to somewhere behind me — to his guest — and I turned my head.

"Elias..." Azriel whispered, holding out a hand towards me.

No. Not him. Why? He'd rejected me once, telling my Lord he didn't want anything to do with me? Why was he here? Did my Lord just want to torment me as usual? What had I done wrong?

"Don't you want to know why I want you to meet him?"

I reproached myself for not seeing what my Lord wanted of me. "Yes, my Lord", I replied dutifully. "Why do you want me to meet him?"

"Because he's here to take you back."

"No!" I exclaimed before I could stop myself. He couldn't mean that! Azriel didn't want me like my Lord did. He wouldn't be able to care for me like my Lord. "Please don't send me with..." I trailed off at the cold stare my Lord gave me.

"Little bird, I'm not asking you to go with him." His words made me relax. Perhaps he wouldn't send me away. But my Lord's next words crushed my hopes. "I'm telling you that you -will- follow him."

I swallowed, but nodded. "Yes, my Lord. I'm sorry." If he didn't want to keep me, there was nothing I could do. But I still desperately wanted to know what I had done wrong. What mistake had I made to make him send me away?

"Good boy", Willow praised, and then flicked his fingers towards Azriel, and I had nothing to do but to present myself to the one who never had wanted me.

I fell to one knee before him, but couldn't make myself greet him the way I greeted my Lord. So I rose and went to stand in my rightful place behind him.

That's when I noticed my Lord's cold stare. The kind of stare that always promised at least five lashes with his whip. I could never face that look, and I couldn't now, either. I swallowed, and went back to one knee before Lord Azriel.

"I'm sorry for offending you, Lord Azriel", I said, touching my brow and heart in greeting. "I will not repeat it." At least not this offense. But I would never submit to him the way my Lord made me submit. Azriel wasn't strong enough. Azriel was weak.

Azriel said nothing, and I feared that he was angry with me. Perhaps he'd grown harsher? I bowed down. "I submit to whatever punishment you see fit", I told him, knowing that he'd never be as inventive as my Lord. I still remembered my first week with him. I had been folish back then, thinking I could outwit my Lord, not realizing how good he was to have as master.

Still Azriel said nothing. Finally my Lord spoke up.

"Well?" he said. "If you worry about not having the right equipment, I would be happy to supply you with that."

I came to think of the things my Lord had, and wished Azriel would decline. I had no wish of submitting to Azriel. I hated him for what he'd done to me.

"That is not necessary", Azriel replied. "Elias, get up. I'm not angry with you."

"Thank you, my lord", I murmured, and rose to stand behind him again, looking at the floor. As I had thought. Azriel was still a weakling.

"What have you done to him?" Azriel demanded.

//Oh, much more than you ever will. He's been the best master I've ever had. A better master than you ever will be, -Lord- Azriel.//

"Nothing. But he was saying how much he feared your disappointment, so I... educated him in how to avoid it."

Not exactly the truth, but my Lord had the right to say what he wanted.

"You disgust me", Azriel simply said. "If there was nothing else, I will leave."

I could feel his disgust at me as well, and I felt disappointment at having failed my Lord gnawing at my bowels.

I heard my Lord rise from his seat and walk across the floor towards us. I sensed more than saw Azriel shy away from Lord Willow's touch, and with a sigh, my Lord turned to me.

"I'll be sad to see you go, my pretty bird", he said. "But I suppose that is the case with birds. They simply fly away."

"Not if they are restrained", I pleaded in a perfectly neutral tone, desperately wanting him to keep me.

"Ah, my dear Elias", my Lord said with a smile in his voice. "Your comments always amuse me. But the Phoenix Lord has asked to have you back, and I could never deny him anything."

Could never deny him anything? Despite myself, I found myself wondering what relation Azriel had to my Lord.

He bent down to place a light kiss on my forehead. "I'll miss you. And if you ever find yourself without an owner, remember you'll always have a place here."

"Yes, my Lord", I replied, relishing his light touch. "Thank you, my Lord." My thanks were heartfelt. I already longed till the moment Azriel would reject me again. Although it would hurt, it would mean my Lord would be free to take me back.

"Take this." My Lord held out his hand, and I took the black phoenix pin that lay in it. "And remember to obey him the way you have showed me you're capable of. Make me proud."

I'd try.

"Enough!" Azriel's voice was rough as he shoved my Lord away with a hand on his shoulder. Then he turned. "Come, Elias. We're leaving."

I could do nothing but agree. I had to make my Lord proud of me. "Yes, my lord", I replied, yet I could tear my eyes from my true Lord until he smiled and waved me off.

Aching inside, I turned and followed my new Lord into the unknown.

As soon as we were outside the hall and the large doors had swung shut with a dull boom, Azriel turned towards me and fell to his knees, clasping my shoulders.

"What has he done to you, Elias?" he asked, clenching his hands so hard I could hardly breathe from the pain.

Did he want a full 'inventory list' of everything my Lord had done? Probably not. If so, this wasn't the place to ask that, since it would take hours. So instead, I opted for telling him another part of
the truth. "He's taken care of me", I replied, looking at the floor. //He's taken care of me where you wouldn't.// "And he hasn't punished me when it wasn't necesary." That was important to point
out. I didn't want him to be annoyed that my Lord had hurt me more than necessary. "My skin is still unmarked, if you were worried about that, my lord." So far. I didn't know what Azriel would do, seeing as he didn't really want me. Would he pass me on to the other lords? To the ladies as well? I'd never been used by a woman, and I was slightly puzzled as to how that would work. She couldn't exactly take me, could she?

"We'll talk when we get home."

His home. This was my home. Of course, since I belonged to Lord Azriel now, it wasn't, but it still felt like my home. "Yes, my lord."

Finally, Azriel let go of my shoulders and rose. "And we'll definitely get you some better clothes."

So I wouldn't even be allowed to have these clothes as a remembrance of my Lord? "Yes, my lord."

Azriel turned and continued towards the heavy doors I'd never been through. As they opened, I stared at the large courtyard displayed before me.

I followed Azriel, staring in wonder at the many people everywhere who ran about. Mostly men, but also a few women. Some of them sported bruises, and I noticed Azriel stiffen as one of them quickly hurried out of our way with downcast eyes.

A large, black horse was led up to Azriel, who sat up. Then he held out his hand to me.

I paled slightly. I hated horses. I couldn't ride them, and the last time I'd tried, a girl had had to show me how. But I couldn't disobey a command, even if it wasn't voiced. So I reached up and let him grab me and pull me up in front of him. I blinked. He was almost as strong as my Lord. Were all men this strong here?

Then Azriel turned the horse around, and I had to grasp at its mane so as not to lose my balance. As we left my Lord's castle, I looked back at it until Azriel turned my head forward again with one hand.

"Don't you dare", he hissed, and I didn't.

* * *

At nightfall, we reached a small temple, and Azriel dismounted. I looked at him for a moment, dreading to have to stay alone on the horse, then gave a relieved sigh as he gestured to me to get down.

I'm still rather proud of my dismount. I swung my leg over the horse's neck so that I sat with both legs on the same side, and then slid down to the ground. It was rather high, of course, so I lost my
balance for a second, but then I was fine.

"Come", Azriel said and then turned to enter the temple.

Actually, it wasn't much of a temple. It was a staircase of perhaps ten or twenty steps up to a large, flat area, surrounded by pillars. There was no roof, only all those carved pillars of pristine white stone. In the far end of the fifty yards long plateau was a white stone altar.

When Azriel stepped through the circle of pillars, he knelt down and touched his brow and heart. Looking about, I didn't see anyone, but I followed suit anyway. Who was he bowing to?

Then I saw a woman in a pale blue dress casually making her way towards us. She seemed to be about forty, her long dark hair already streaked with pale hairs.

Azriel bowed deeply to her, again touching forehead and heart. "Well greeted, Lady", he said.

"Well met, young Lord Phoenix", she replied. "In what business do you seek Her?"

Azriel gestured to me, and for a moment, the woman's eyes turned towards me, and I saw that they were a brilliant purple colour. Then she turned back to Azriel, waiting for what he'd say. "I retrieved this boy from our most esteemed Dragon Lord," her eyes and face clouded with pity as she again regarded me, "and I would be most grateful if She could bring us to the Keep Temple."

"I will ask if She will." She passed us, and descended the steps. Azriel followed, and I had no choice but to trail along.

Then Azriel stepped up to the horse, and put his arm around me. The woman stood in front of us and closed her eyes. Her lips moved, and then she opened her eyes again, showing their silver colour. "Go with Her blessing", she said, and then a weird feeling passed through my belly as the world went dark and cold.

When the world returned, we were standing in another courtyard before another temple. Azriel let go of me and looked down. "Wait here", he said, and I nodded, trying to control the nauseous feeling in my guts. Then I watched as he ascended the ten steps towards the line of pillars. I sensed more than saw him kneel, keeping my eyes properly on the ground.

A minute or so later, he came back. "Come, Elias. A stable boy will take care of the horse."

"Yes, my lord." I followed him across the courtyard, always one step behind, and in through a large gate, and through an open double-door, higher than two or three men on top of each other.

I tried not to look about as we travelled through the criss-cross of corridors. They were more confusing than the corridors back home with my Lord. Of course, this castle housed many more lords than one, and a queen too. The queen my Lord wanted dead. He'd said so many times. Perhaps, if I got the chance, I could help my Lord with that? Wouldn't he be pleased with me then?

We stopped before an intricately carved door with a softly glowing phoenix rising in the middle of it all. Azriel placed his palm against the heart of the phoenix, and the glow slowly seeped from it
to his hand and vanished. He pushed the doors open and stepped inside.

I lingered for half a heartbeat in defiance before following him. I didn't truly belong to him. I belonged to my Lord, and I would do so no matter what he did. He wasn't as strong as my Lord; he'd never be able to own me.

He didn't seem to notice my defiance: yet another proof of his weakness. He didn't even look at me more than making sure I was inside before letting the door fall shut. Weak. He walked further in into his quarters.

He had said he was going to change my attire, hadn't he? So I slipped out of my clothes. If he wanted me to wear clothes he'd have to get them for me. I caressed the shirt a final time before letting it fall. I still had one memento. Or was it counted as two?

Remembering one final thing, I bent down to retrieve the pin from the hidden pouch inside the trousers. A pocket, almost. Then I stood to wait.

In the corner of my eye, I saw Azriel re-enter the room, and freeze. Inside, I smirked. Then Azriel continued up to me.

"Why did you undress?" he asked.

"You said you'd get me some better clothes, my lord", I said in a neutral tone. I couldn't very well openly show my contempt of his weakness, could I?

As if he hadn't heard me, he reached out towards my chest. I smirked with pride. So he'd noticed them.

He took one of the nipple rings in his hand, and tugged slightly. Despite myself, I let a small gasp. They were rather fresh, since my Lord had only rewarded me with them a few days ago.

"Why?"

I looked down at the small, greenish rings. The green tint of the metal was just plain beautiful; it reminded me so much of my Lord. "Because my Lord judged me worthy of them, my lord." Lord
Willow had promised me that if I was good enough, he'd even let me have a small dragon token hanging from one of them to show everyone whom I belonged to. Obviously, I hadn't had time to be that good. But I would have time when I returned.

"You still think you belong to him, don't you?"

What? Had it been so obvious? "No, of course not, my lord", I hurriedly assured him. "I belong to you, Lord Azriel." To prove it, I went down on my knees and saluted him, then bent over and kissed the tip of his boot.

The boot was snagged back. "Get up."

Was he afraid of me? I rose quickly. "Yes, my lord. I'm sorry, my lord." How amusing. If my obediance scared him, I'd set out to be the most servile slave he'd ever had.

"Remove those rings." I froze. "Prove to me you do not belong to him anymore."

I forced my hands to move, forced them to touch my precious rings, forced them to open the rings and carefully remove them from my nipples. It was uncomfortable without them, and slightly... empty.

"Give them to me."

Wordlessly I held out them to him in my palm, and he took them.

"What's that in your other hand?"

Oh, I'd forgotten. I held out the pin to him.

He took it slowly, turning it over and over in his fingers as he looked at it closer. Then he crossed the room and put it on his desk. Once more he crossed the room, towards his more private quarters. In the doorway he turned and beckoned to me.

Sighing inwardly, I walked up to him and followed him into the bedroom.

He took hold of my neck and pulled me closer, placing an arm around my back. "Goddess", he mumbled. "I've missed you, Elias." And then he kissed me.

Kissing was not a thing my Lord had indulged in often. His kisses were a reward, something to be earned. Azriel was different.

He kissed me for a long time. When he'd tired of my mouth, his lips trailed down via my throat to my torso. He suckled lightly at my nipples, and I stoically bore the pain, ignoring the thrills of
pleasure he managed to send through my body. Pain I was used to, and pleasure I denied him.

I repressed my erection. That belonged to my Lord, not to Azriel. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing me aroused. I didn't want it. I only wanted my Lord. There had been a time when I had wanted Azriel, but that time was past. My desire for him vanished when he told my Lord that I had been a fleeting amusement, and that he was glad to see me go. Obviously, he'd changed his mind. Obviously, he'd heard I'd become better. I'd disprove that. If he found me non-interesting, he'd hopefully reject me again, and leave me without an owner, which made me free to go back.

Then I was lifted, and carried to the bed, where I was dumped. So he intended to fuck me. Fine. It didn't matter to me. It'd be over soon.

Part Sixteen

It had gone on for a week now. Elias half-avoided him, half-taunted him, half-obeyed him. Azriel had attempted to make love to him only once since that first day. Both times, Elias had lain still,
uncaring, with a 'hurry up and be done' expression on his face, even though he tried to hide it.

Azriel didn't know what to do. How could he break Willow's hold over the boy? It was so obvious in everything he did that Willow still owned his mind, despite his assurances of the opposite.

Like now. The boy sat still beside Azriel's armchair, apparantly submissive, but Azriel knew that if he asked Elias to do something, it would take several defiant moments before Elias even moved. It was as if he enjoyed playing with Azriel, enjoyed pretending to belong here.

How he wished he could free Elias, but he didn't dare. If he did, he knew Elias would be back with Willow before the day was over. Before he could free the boy, he had to break Willow's hold over him.

He didn't dare take the matter up with the Queen. He'd spoken to her, telling her he'd retrieved Elias, but that he was still affected by what Willow had put him through. The Queen had agreed to letting him take care of it. He'd felt her questioning eyes upon him a few times, but she hadn't asked.

Elias' nipples had healed by now, the holes vanished, almost as though they'd never been there. The rings lay in a drawer. Azriel didn't want to look at them, yet he hesitated to throw them away.

He'd given Elias' drawing pad back two days ago. Perhaps he could treat his traumatic experiences that way? Azriel had treated his own through fighting. He'd vowed he'd become better than Willow. He still wasn't, but at least they were equally good.

He hadn't looked at the pictures Elias had made. Perhaps it was time now? After all, Willow hadn't challenged more than once since Elias had vanished.

"Elias."

"...Yes, my lord?"

Still that defiant pause before responding. "Fetch me your drawing pad."

A glint of disgusted fury. "...Yes, my lord." Slowly rising, before padding over to the window sill where the he always found the boy when returning to his rooms. As slowly padding back, kneeling before Azriel and holding the pad up for him to take.

Azriel absently took it, and flipped to the first new picture. Willow. Why wasn't he surprised? The next picture: Willow holding a hand under Elias' chin, smiling that contemptous smile Azriel knew so well. The third: Another man, brutish in appearance.

"Who is this?"

"Panther."

Not even a 'my lord'. Elias' defiance was growing with every day. Azriel was afraid of what would happen when Elias started showing it openly? Would he one day wake up to find himself dead?

Quickly he turned the page to get something else to think of. It didn't help. It was Willow again, seen from below, as if from a kneeling point of view. The next picture was also of Willow, sitting
in an arm-chair, whip in his lap. Azriel shuddered and traced the contours of that instrument of pain with his index finger. Yes, he knew how good Willow was with it.

He needed to take control of things. If things continued like this he would never know what would happen. But most probably they would only get worse. Right now, the thing Elias needed didn't seem to be freedom. Very well. He'd straighten things up.

Dropping the pad on the floor, he looked down at Elias, still on his knees. "Elias."

"...Yes, my lord?" Again that pause.

"Why do you belong to me?"

"...Because my Lord..."

Elias voice trailed off as Azriel grabbed hold of his hair and forced his head backwards.

"Who is 'my Lord'?"

A slight paling of his skin, but no answer.

"I asked you a question, boy. Who is your lord?"

"You." Too fast.

A casual backhand, bringing involuntary tears to Elias' eyes.

"Why do you obey me?"

"Because you own me." Again, too fast.

Another backhand.

"I do not like it when you lie to me."

"I'm not!" Defiance in his eyes, despite the tears.

"Don't mock me, boy." Was that cold voice really his? "I know you. You only obey me because -he- told you to. Isn't that so?"

A widening of those beautiful eyes told him he was right.

"But, my lord..."

"I hear it in your voice, boy. I hear the difference between the 'my lord' you call me and -his- 'my lord'."

No reply.

"I've grown weary of your constant defiance." The boy opened his mouth to protest, but closed it again at Azriel's glare. "Like that. Did you mouth off at Willow, too?"

Averting his eyes. "No." The reply was little more than a whisper.

"Why?"

No reply.

"Why did you obey him?"

Still no reply.

"Answer me."

"Because..." His voice lowering even more, forcing Azriel to strain his ears to hear it. "Because he's strong."

"Ah. So I am not?"

A guilty silence.

"You're wrong." It was now or never. "I've given you some leeway this first week to allow you to get over him and come to terms with living here. Obviously that was the wrong thing to do with you." He pushed Elias away, rising to stand over the boy sprawled on the floor. "You're worthless, boy."

A small smile.

"You misunderstand. That does -not- mean I'm going to send you back to him. It means you have not earned any respect from me, nor any privileges."

The smile died.

Azriel knelt down, and took hold of the collar of the grey tunic with one hand. The other drew the dagger hanging at his side.

It only took a moment to free the boy's body from his clothes. Then Elias lay there, naked, his head turned to one side and his eyes closed.

"Look at me."

The eyes fluttered open to warily fasten their gaze at him.

"These are the rules. You will not do anything unless I have told you that you can. Understood?"

Elias nodded.

"Say it."

"Yes, my lord." It was little more than a whisper. "I understand."

"Good." He needed to get out of here. To talk with someone. Anyone. "Now, when I'm gone, I want you to get rid of these rags, and then go wash yourself. I want you clean; you stink." //You stink of Willow, and that stench will cling to you no matter what you do until you rid yourself of him in your mind.// "And then I want you to wait for me on your knees in a corner of my bedroom."

"Yes, my lord."

More subdued now, the apparant defiance gone from his voice. Good.

He rose and strode to the door, opened it and stepped outside. Wen he had Sealed it, he leaned back against it in weary despair.

* * *

Someone knocked. Ehlam raised his head from his reading. "Come in", he called.

The door opened, and Azriel half strode, half staggered in. Something was terribly wrong with him. He was weary, and seemed near to tears as well.

"What's wrong, Azriel?" he asked in alarm, dropped the book and rose to rush up to his guest.

"Lots. I'll tell you."

It wasn't the answer he'd wanted, but it would have to do. He gestured towards the armchairs before the fire-place, and then closed the door before following.

He sat down opposite Azriel. "Tell me."

"It's Elias."

Elias? What had the boy done now?

"Or rather, it's Willow."

Willow. Fury seized Ehlam as he remembered the Azriel that he'd first met. The young boy who strove so desperately to be strong, to take what he'd been through like a man. And when he finally told Ehlam... "What's he done?"

Azriel sighed and wearily drew a hand through his hair. "I don't know. Not exactly. But you know he denied taking Elias, don't you?"

Yes, Ehlam knew. Although he knew that it was the only possibility since Elias was gone and Willow had declined killing or marking Azriel, he knew what had happened during Azriel's meeting with him. Yes, he knew. He nodded.

"Well, apparantly, he lied. I'm not exactly surprised, though."

Ehlam gasped. "Lied under oath!?" he exclaimed.

"Apparantly, not exactly. I didn't think of it then, but I went through that talk in my head a few days ago, and realized that he only vowed he'd contact me and give Elias back if the boy wanted to come back. Anything else he'd just talked about before the vow, and thus I included it myself, but he didn't, obviously. In his vow, he never said anything about when he'd contact me, or that he didn't have the boy."

"That deceitful Goddess-damned..." Ehlam hissed.

"Indeed." Azriel paused and leaned back, looking up into the ceiling. "When he contacted me to say he 'had the boy for me'..."

"You ran there like Sun's servants were in your heels."

"Yeah. And when I saw him... When I saw Elias..." Azriel stopped and swallowed. He leaned forward and rested his head in his hands. "I just..." Again he broke off. He sat back, and when he continued, his voice was remarkably calm again. "I hoped it was just a ruse, that Elias had been able to fool him. But..."

"What? Fool him with what?"

Azriel took a deep, shuddering breath. "Let's just say that it seemed as if Willow had succeeded with him where he failed with me."

The impact of those words shook Ehlam to the core of his being. He stared at Azriel, his mouth open as if to say something, but no words came. He licked his lips and tried again, with no result.

"Never mind." Why did he suddenly seem so weary? "What made it worse was that Elias actually begged to stay."

"But it was just a ruse, right?" Hoping beyond hope.

"...No." One word, and yet it said so much. Crushed so much hope.

"No..." Please don't let that be true. Had Willow really managed to break Elias that much?

Azriel rose, unable to sit. "Elias... he worships Willow. This week, he's been obeying me with defiance." At seeing Ehlam's raised eyebrows, he continued, "Not like that, Ehlam. But when I ask him to do something, he looks at me as saying I'm too weak to control him. And that pause before saying 'yes, my lord'. It scares me."

That was new. It wasn't much Azriel was afraid of.

"It makes me wonder how long he will keep up the pretense, and what will happen then. Will I suddenly wake up to find myself dead? Assassinated in my own quarters?"

"But the Queen..."

Azriel shook his head and Ehlam fell silent. "No. I haven't talked to her. She'd be outraged and I don't know what would happen to Willow then. And..."

"You actually -care- for what happens to -Willow-?" Ehlam spat his name out. "After what he's done?"

"Just shut up and listen. Please, Ehlam."

Ehlam took a deep breath and shut up. Fine. He'd let Azriel finish.

"Thanks. To continue, I don't know how Elias would react to that. Since he is still in his mind property to Willow, obeying me only because Willow told him to, what would he do then? Would he kill me and everyone Willow disliked as a final duty? Would he kill himself?" He continued pacing to and fro. "And there's another reason I haven't talked to her. She'd insist on seeing him, and I have no doubt that Willow gave him some command, before seeing me, to kill her. That would rid him of a large problem, while not endangering himself, right?"

Unfortunately, Ehlam had to admit Azriel was right. "But it's still not right to keep secrets from her."

Azriel nodded. "I know. And as soon as this is over, I'll present myself to her and ask forgiveness."

As soon as this is over. Yes. "Where is he now?"

"I'm coming to that." Azriel sat down again. "I gave him his drawing pad, hoping that if he had the chance to draw out his trauma it could be better. Obviously I was wrong. Every picture was of Willow, except for one that portrayed someone called Panther, no doubt one of Willow's bodyguards, I don't know him, so he has to be rather new, and..."

"Azriel!" Ehlam cut him off sharply. "Breathe while you talk."

A long, shuddering breath was the reply to that. "I'm... sorry."

"It's all right. Go on."

"I thought it would help, but the pictures just seemed to strengten Willow's hold over him. I realized I had to take control of the situation before Willow took control of me."

Yes, since Elias obeyed Willow's will, it gave Willow some power in Azriel's life.

"So I..." Azriel broke off and stared up into the ceiling again. When he spoke again, his voice was half-detached. "I threw him to the floor and told him he was worthless. He smiled at that, probably
thinking I'd throw him out then, so he'd be free to go back to Willow. I told him it did -not- mean that. It meant that he had not earned my respect or any privileges."

Did Ehlam like where this was heading? No, but he could understand that Azriel thought it the only way of breaking Willow's hold over the boy. Hopefully, Azriel wouldn't like it. If Azriel became another Willow...

"So I... took off his clothes. Clothes are a privilege too. And then I told him I'd been nice to him the past week to let him accomodate himself with the new surroundings, but that it obviously hadn't helped. And then I wanted some answers. I mean, why did he obey Willow? What was it with Willow that demanded such obediance? Of course, I already knew the answer. I've been there myself. I didn't tell him that, though. Willow does demand obediance. He rules through fear." A deep breath. "Elias told me that. Or rather, he told me it was 'because he's strong'. And implied that I wasn't." Another deep breath. "I have to disprove him. I have to take Willow's place in his mind. -Then- I can work on bringing him back."

"You have a lot of work before you, Azriel."

"Yes, but I hoped..." He sat up and looked at Ehlam intently. "Please, Ehlam. Help me."

Ehlam blinked. Of course he'd at least try to help his friend, but was he ready? Could he really help with what Azriel wanted? "With what?"

"I don't know. But you're the only one who knows. I don't dare invite anyone else into my quarters with him there. At the moment, you are the only one I trust."

Ehlam stayed silent, allowing Azriel to finish explaining.

"All I ask is that you come visit me at times, so I won't have to dread going back to my quarters, knowing I'll always be alone there with him. And that you won't argue with me about my treatment of him, at least not where he can hear. And..." Azriel suddenly stopped, and seemed slightly hesitant.

"Yes?" So far things seemed reasonable.

"And I might... tell him to give me pleasure while you're there, or tell him to... service you. Please don't..."

Ehlam smiled slightly, although he felt quite hesitant over that request. But Azriel was his friend. He'd try to help in what way he could. "It's all right, Azriel." Azriel relaxed visibly. "I'll try to help you. I'll tell you if I can't go on. In private, not in front of him."

A deep, shuddering breath as Azriel relaxed back into his chair. "Thank you, Ehlam", he whispered. "It means much to me."

Ehlam smiled reassuringly. Then he rose and went to fetch a bottle of wine and two goblets. "Here, Azriel", he said, holding out one of the goblets to him, and then poured his friend some wine. "You need something to drink."

"Thanks." Azriel didn't even look up. "I guess I do."

Part Seventeen

I picked up the remains of my clothes in a different mood than I had been in half an hour ago. The change in Azriel... It was not something I had expected. I had thought him to be the weakling Willow had described him to me. Not in so many words, but more in the way he'd acted. And Azriel had done nothing to deny it.

Until now.

Frankly, I was a bit afraid, yet there was a part of me that urged me, //Go ahead, test him. See if he is as strong as your Lord. See if he is strong enough to master you.// And I knew I would follow that voice. That voice that had so many times told me how much I deserved what treatment Willow brought upon me. That voice that told me how fortunate I was to have found Willow before I...

Before I what? Before I got myself killed in my search for a master? A search I hadn't even known about until that voice came.

//Oh Willow. How I miss you...// Willow was strong. Strong enough to hold me, strong enough to punish me when I did something wrong, strong enough to comfort me when I was good. Strong enough to allow himself that weakness.

I realized I'd been standing still for quite a few minutes with the rags in my hand. Get rid of them. How? Then I shrugged. I didn't care. So I threw my former clothes in the open fire. After all, it
was only cloth.

Clothes or no clothes didn't matter to me. At least I told myself that. But being naked around Willow was one thing. Azriel... I had loved Azriel once, and he had discarded me. I had hated Willow once, and he'd taken care of me when no one else did. That made a huge difference. I trusted Willow. I trusted him to know what was best for me.

Azriel, I didn't trust.

It was as simple as that, I told myself happily as I put away my drawing pad on the window sill again and sauntered into the bath room. As I dipped myself into the bath and then climbed out to soap myself, I pondered whether I should clean myself inside as well, but decided against it. Why should I think ahead of him? And every discomfort for him was a victory for me.

And when I was done, I sat down in the corner to wait.

* * *

Time passed. This was boring. Where was he? I found myself slipping down into that place of serene servitude where I'd learnt to take my refuge from the harsh strains Lord Willow placed on me.

Suddenly someone knocked on the door, half-rousing me from my trance. I was up and almost at the door to the study when I woke up completely and caught myself. I wasn't back with my Lord yet, where one of my tasks was to open doors for him.

And this could be a trap. What if it was Azriel out there, trying to catch me doing something I wasn't supposed to do? And I really wasn't supposed to leave that corner.

Deciding that however pleasant it was to stretch my legs, it was more prudent not to disobey him so openly. So I hurried back to my corner and knelt down again, wincing as my knees protested against reassuming such a straining position.

That someone knocked again, and I fought an urge to go and open. Then there was silence. Nothing happened.

Thirsty. I desperately needed something to drink. Feeling bold and daring, I rose and snuck out into the bath room, where I knew there was always a pitcher of cold water for rinsing off. Snatching it, I took a few deep drafts before replacing it and hurrying back.

Keeping my eyes prudently on the floor, my knees apart and hands on knees, the way my Lord taught me to kneel, I waited. Soon, I found myself slipping back into that elysium, and my eyes fell closed as I imagined I was back home with Willow.

"So, boy. Did you miss me?"

I blinked. That wasn't Willow's voice. Reality forced itself back on me, and I looked up at Azriel.

"Stand up."

I obeyed, wincing as my knees protested once more to the change of position.

He smiled slightly. "Now, did you obey me? Did you do exactly as I said?"

I nodded, whereupon he promptly back-handed me.

"I do not like being lied to."

I started. Did he know I hadn't sat in the corner all the time?

A contemplative look in his eye. "Now tell me the truth."

I decided to try him. "But it is true!" He couldn't know, could he?

Another slap, this one so hard it send me staggering to keep my balance. A hand took hold of the hair in the nape of my neck and pulled me close.

"I said I do not like liars. Tell me the truth, now."

No way. He couldn't know. "It is", I whispered, still a bit dazed from his blow. "Honest to god, it..."

His hand moving around to close around my throat silenced me. Azriel pulled me even closer, almost lifting me from the floor. I stood on tip-toe, desperately trying to ease the strain on my wind-pipe.

"And lying wasn't enough?" he hissed, mere inches from my face. "Bringing deities into the picture makes it blasphemy, no matter what names you give yours."

Oh god. He really did know. Or did he? Then I didn't have time to think more as he slowly closed his hand, shutting off more and more of my air supply. Desperately I clawed at his hand, until his cold stare froze me. Straining to swallow, I relented, and let my hands fall. //Please, no more...//

Suddenly he let go of me, and I dropped to the floor. I lay still, gasping for breath, trying to focus my eyes on my master standing cold above me. "I'm sorry", I gasped as soon as I could. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm..."

"Silence, boy."

Two small words, calmly uttered, yet they shut me up as effectively as one of my Lord's stares. He started to circle me, and I followed him with my eyes, unwilling to let him out of my sight, suddenly very afraid of what he could do. I had -not- expected this from the cowardly Azriel.

"So, I've got your attention now, boy." He stopped on the other side of me and crouched down. "So would you please answer my question."

One last try, one last attempt to hold my pride. Perhaps he didn't know. "What is it I've done, my lord?"

He smiled softly and shook his head. "You tell me."

I closed my eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath.

"No, no, boy. Look at me. I'm your lord and master now, aren't I?"

Yes, he was. My Lord had given me away. Ignoring the pain those words caused, I nodded slowly, and then opened my eyes. "Yes, my lord."

"Good. Then tell me exactly in what way you disobeyed me."

"Yes, my lord. I... I didn't remain in the corner, but got up to get something to drink."

Not even a blink or twitch to betray his thoughts. "Water or wine?"

"Water, my lord. From the decanter in the bath."

"I'll have it replaced, then. I'm glad you didn't consider yourself important enough to choose wine. Or was it that you were just afraid I'd notice -that-?"

"I don't drink wine, my lord. Not if I don't have to." I'd never taken a liking to wine.

"Fine. But I'm certain that wasn't your only transgression, now was it?"

I couldn't help but stare at him. What kind of demon was he? "I automatically got up to answer the door when someone knocked." At his raise of an eyebrow, I hurriedly assured him, "No, my lord, I didn't open. I remembered myself in the doorway to your study."

He merely nodded. "Fine. But there's more."

More? I blinked. What would that...? No, he couldn't mean my only neglect in cleaning myself, could he? There was no way he could have known -that-. "I'm... I'm sorry, my lord. I don't know what..."

"No? I'll show you." He rose. "Get up."

I scrambled to my feet, and he took a hold of my neck and steered me towards his study.

Not until he shoved my face down into my drawing pad did I even begin to understand.

"That", he said and let go of me. "Did I tell you you could pick that up?"

Oh. "No, my lord, but..."

"Silence. What were my only rules concerning your conduct so far?"

"That..." I swallowed as his words came back to me. "I will not do anything unless you have told me that I can."

A taut grin at the edge of my field of vision. "Exactly. And what did I tell you to do?"

"To get rid of... the remains of my clothes, then go and clean myself up, and then wait on my knees in the corner of your bedroom."

"At least there we are agreed." I heard his footsteps move away, but with his words, his -rules- acutely ringing in my head, I didn't dare turn around to look what he was doing. I was certain I'd be punished for my transgressions — if he didn't punish me, he was weaker than I had thought — but I didn't want to earn myself any more punishment.

"Tell me", he continued a few seconds later, as both his footsteps and voice were coming closer. "Why didn't you remember that earlier? Or did you just disregard them out of rebellion?"

Still I didn't dare turn, and remained where I was, half-bent over the window-sill. Most of the fight, I had to admit, had gone out of me. //I'm sorry, my Lord... I always was a coward at heart.// "I'm sorry, my lord", I said loud, half-mimicking my thoughts, though directing my words at a different target. "I didn't think." I was about to continue with 'that you would notice', but as I'd come that far, I realized that was the context of it. I didn't think. If I had thought, I would at least have considered the possibility of him noticing.

He sighed behind me. "Yes, I've noticed. You may look this way."

I blinked, but turned my head. And froze in terror. Azriel's hand rested on the hilt of his sword. No. I didn't believe it. For my transgressions, he'd kill me? //No please...// I couldn't make myself
say those words, nor could I look away. //Please don't kill me, Azriel! I'll do anything!//

Then he moved, and the spell that had kept my eyes tied to his hand on the hilt broke. Quickly I turned back and squeezed them shut. If I was going to die, at least I didn't want to watch.

"Anything you'd like to say?" he suddenly whispered in my ear, and I jumped. "Any last words?"

No. I would -not- disgrace myself by begging. "Please, my lord. Don't kill me!" Traitorous mouth of mine. "I'll do anything, just don't kill me."

That's when he did something unexpected. He threw his head back and laughed. Then he shook his head, so very apparantly amused. "Kill you? No, I wouldn't do such a thing. But I can't have you lie to me again, can I? And you can't very well lie without a tongue, can you?"

Oh no. I shivered. My knees wobbled for a moment, and then gave way, dropping me to the floor. "Please, my lord. I won't lie to you. I promise." Please... I... swear by the Goddess."

I heard him crouch down beside me. "I would believe you, my boy. If I hadn't caught you with blasphemy before."

//Oh, please... Please believe me.// "But that's just a saying where I come from. Religion is dead there. It's... It's different here. Your Goddess I can believe in." And I found it to be true. I could
believe in Her, unlike the god of my own world. At times I hardly remembered what that world was like, other than that it was dark and horrible and I had been all alone.

He rose, and I heard him pace to and fro in the room. I remained where I was, afraid to draw his attention.

Finally he stopped. "Very well. You may choose your punishment. Your only other alternative is ten lashes."

Ten lashes. No tongue or death in agony. I closed my eyes. //I'm sorry, my Lord...// "I'll... take the lashes."

"Death?"

I blinked. "What?"

"You said you chose death." Had I? "I never offered that. Ten lashes will not kill. It will only make you wish you were dead."

I blinked again. But my Lord said...

"I don't care what 'your lord' said. I assume you speak of Willow again. Make it eleven then."

I hadn't even been aware of speaking out loud. "I'm sorry, my lord."

"Fetch the whip."

I looked up at him in confusion, and saw him pointing towards the door. I looked that way, and saw a whip lying next to it. As I rose and padded towards it, my heart sank. So he'd intended to use it from the start.

I picked up the black leather coils, and then turned to see him vanish into the bedroom. I followed him there and then into the bath. As I looked questioningly at him, he told me he hated blood stains on his floor.

Looking down at the marble floor, I silently agreed that it would be much easier to clean this floor than the one in the study.

I knelt before him and offered him the whip.

"Thank you, boy. Stand against the wall."

I did as he asked, but I knew I'd never be able to stand all the way. "Permission to be tied up, my lord", I asked.

"Permission denied." Even as he spoke, I heard the soft swishing sound of pain cutting the air, and as he fell silent, it hit me.

I felt the taste of blood in my mouth as I bit my lip not to scream. The whip rose again, to pause for a second or two before once more descending on my back.

The pain wasn't that bad, really. I was used to worse. It seemed Azriel hadn't as much experience. And he didn't strike as hard, either. I might even be able to take this. I would have, hadn't it been eleven.

The pain burned my back, and soon I found myself back into that solemn place of total servitude where nothing quite mattered. Where I knew that I was nothing, and that the one who owned me — in this case Azriel — had every right to do with me as he pleased. Where I knew that this was his way of showing he cared.

Then the pain was over. I knew I was still standing, and I was rather amazed by it. The echo of my screams still rung distantly in my detached ears.

"Turn around."

I did as my Lord commanded me, looking not up at him, but rather at his feet. A thin, pink stream silently crept by it on its way towards the bath.

"Do you have anything to say?"

I did. Kneeling down in my own water-mixed blood, I bent forward and kissed his toes, the metallic scent of that pink liquid enticing my nostrils. "Thank you, my Lord."

I could almost hear his surprise. "Why do you thank me?"

"For showing me the error of my ways, my Lord." For standing strong to correct me with his love. For...

"Rise, boy."

Again, I did as he asked. Where I was now, obediance was absolute. Had he commanded me right then to cease breathing, I would have at least tried.

"Get into the bath and clean yourself."

Without a word I walked past him and descended into the water. As the lukewarm waves lapped at my lower back, I inhaled sharply, feeling their sting and bite. But my Lord had commanded me. It wasn't even a question of whether I should continue or not.

I immersed myself fully into the water, almost revelling in the pain in my back that had dulled to a throbbing ache, but now re-awoke with the new stimulation.

Carefully, I washed myself, straining to reach all places on my back. When I seemed to be done, I was ordered up, and then he told me how good I had been. I almost cried with joy over his praise. And then he told me to go to sleep. Since I hadn't been behaving correctly the past week, though, I had of course forfeited the privilege of sleeping in his bed. But since I had been so good now, he could make an exception. I could sleep at his feet.

Fully enveloped in servitude and gratitude, I walked as if in a daze towards the bed and laid down in the foot end. As soon as I closed my eyes, the world faded.

Part Eighteen

When I woke up, I was firstly aware of the throbbing in my back. Then I realized where I was sleeping. Slowly, the memories of last night came back to me. The whipping, and my reaction to it.

I was immediately filled with disgust over how I'd so easily thrown away one master for another. What had come over me? But fine. I'd do as he said. If only to avoid any more punishment. The pain was nothing. I was used to it. But I did -not- want to go into that space again because of him. I wanted at least to keep my mind free.

I lay still, remembering his orders the previous day. Do nothing without being told to.

Time passed, and I spent it thinking about what had happened to me. I had come here from nowhere. Well, from my world, then, but my own world wasn't that great a place, even if I now would have been half-happy to take refuge there. Then I could have enjoyed myself drawing pictures of Azriel being tortured.

I had come here from nowhere. Been picked up by Ehlam, who was the closest thing I'd ever had to a father, I think. My true father I had never known. Mother didn't like talking about him. So I guess I had adopted Ehlam as my father. He was the only one here I respected. Except for Willow, but he was my master, not my father.

Been picked up by Ehlam, and cared for. Then I'd met Azriel, and my world had fallen apart. I had never dared to truly hope, and then he offered me that hope, and as soon as I had grasped it, he'd torn it from my very hands. Received me, kissed me and sent me away.

And then he'd asked the Queen to have me. And it seemed no one could deny him anything. Not the Queen, not Willow, not Ehlam, not I.

I had shared his bed for the first time that night, telling myself it didn't matter if it was only a one-time experience. I had slept with him, told him the truth about me, saved his life.

And then he had told me — no, he'd told Willow — that he didn't want me. That he was relieved Willow had taken me off his hands.

Willow had taken care of me, too. Had taught me my true place, had cared enough about me to punish me for my wrong-doings outright, instead of going about behind my back. He'd told me what I'd done wrong and given me a chance to correct my ways. And he'd cared enough about me to reward me when I did things right. Sometimes with as little as a 'thank you', sometimes with a kiss, sometimes with the relief of being allowed to come, sometimes by just holding me when I
cried.

And then Azriel had come to him. He'd obviously heard that I had improved, and wanted a taste for himself. These pussy-licking cowards always were greedy. Wanting everything for themselves, while pretending to obey the women who were too weak to take anything for themselves.

I hadn't told Willow about my world, although I had been tempted at times. I had told my story once, and been hurt because of it. I didn't care for repeating that.

A foot prodded me. I looked up to find Azriel looking down at me from his pillow.

"Good. Go and fetch me a cup of wine. Skai wine will be fine."

I climbed out of bed and padded out into the outer room and opened the cabinet where I knew he had his wine. Quickly scanning through the lables, I found the Skai bottle. His favourite. Half-full — or half-empty, depending on how you wanted to see it. I picked it down and then took out a silver cup.

Wasn't that weird? was my thought as I poured some. I was used to gold being the most precious metal, but here it was silver. Made me think of how rich I would have been if I could travel between the worlds, bringing with me silver objects from Earth, trading them here for gold objects and then going back for more.

I replaced the bottle, and then carefully carried the full cup to Azriel, kneeling beside the bed to offer it to him.

He didn't even acknowledge me, just took the cup as though it had been standing on a table, and then flicked his fingers at me, gesturing towards the corner where I'd waited last night for him.

So that was to be 'my' corner. Fine. I rose and softly padded there and knelt down, continuing to ponder my life.

Soon Azriel rose, pulled on a string that hung in a corner, and then strode out into his study. Soon, a polite rapping was heard on the door, and then I heard them speak. Azriel and someone else.

"Yes, my lord?" the woman asked. A servant.

"Bring me breakfast. For two."

So he intended to feed me at least. I could use that.

"Certainly."

"There is no need to knock when you return with the food. Just put it on the table by the fireside."

"I get it, my lord." A smile in her voice.

"And would you..." His voice lowered too much for me to hear more than a faint mumble.

"Certainly, my lord." Then the door closed.

Part Nineteen

He sat down after the servant had brought the food, and looked at it for a second. Then he closed his eyes briefly, steeling himself, before snapping his fingers over his shoulders. He was just about to follow it up with a vocal summon when he heard Elias get to his feet in the inner room and softly pad across the floor and enter the room.

He sensed more than saw Elias stop hesitantly next to him, waiting, not daring to take the seat opposite him. Good for him. Azriel did not intend for him to sit there. Instead, he gestured to the floor next to his own armchair. To his surprise, there was barely half a second's hesitation before the boy sank down to his knees.

A movement in the corner of his eye made him glance down, just in time to see Elias quickly look down at the floor again. The young man's body was tense, and he was probably getting angry. Good.

"Yes, Elias?"

"...Nothing, my lord", Elias mumbled.

"Then why are you more tense than a predator ready to strike?"

A moment's pause, before the boy's body relaxed, most probably in resignation. "I'm sorry, my lord. I presumed too much." Barely a glance towards the other arm-chair.

Azriel threw his head backwards and let out a short, barking laugh. It wasn't hard to understand Elias' indications. "You thought that 'breakfast for two' included you?"

The boy almost cowered as he answered. "I... I guess so, my lord." His eyes were fastened to the floor in front of him. Again, his shoulders tensed.

"Fool." However, he couldn't quite banish the smile off his face, and he knew it must have been audible in his voice.

Right then, someone knocked on the door. He must have been ready and waiting already. Azriel felt a brief moment of pity for his friend, being forced into this more-so than Azriel himself. After all, Ehlam had nothing to gain through this play, had he?

"Open the door, boy."

Again, to his surprise, Elias obeyed. If there was any hesitation in him as he crossed the room and put his hand to the door handle, it could hardly be detected. Perhaps there was a slight stiffness in his knees as he walked, perhaps his back was a bit more tense than it should have been, perhaps his fingers tightened a bit too fiercly on the doorhandle. But he kept his eyes on the floor as he respectfully followed the door out of the way to reveal Ehlam.

"Ah, Ehlam. It's good to see you", Azriel smoothly intercepted before Ehlam could react — and he could see it coming, in the way his friend looked at Elias, in the stiffness in his shoulders, and in the burning in his eyes.

Ehlam stiffened almost imperceptively, then slowly looked at Azriel. "Hello, Azriel. It's been a long time." Yes. Since yesterday.

"Please, sit down." Azriel gestured to the armchair opposite him. Ehlam crossed the room an sat down. When he had, his face was politely neutral. Azriel almost smiled. When the Guardian Lord was so inclined, no one could ever beat him in cards.

Elias closed the door behind Ehlam, then — at a gesture from Azriel — returned to his place beside the Phoenix Lord. No sign of defiance.

Azriel pointedly ignored him — or tried to at least — and turned his attention to his food and Ehlam instead.

* * *

Ehlam sank down in the arm-chair and tried to relax, knowing his face showed nothing of what he felt. Although he'd known since yesterday, and thus had had some time to prepare himself, he'd found out that nothing obviously could have prepared him for the actual shock of seeing that little boy so... humiliated.

While eating and chit-chatting with Azriel, Ehlam discreetly studied them both. Azriel was tense. He might seem at ease to someone not familiar with him, but Ehlam could see his friend's discomfort at having to ignore the boy, pretending to be used to being a master.

//I only hope he will not take this as an excuse to get even with Willow — taking out his pain on Elias.// Knowing Azriel, he felt fairly sure that wouldn't be the case, but still...

Elias, on the other hand, wasn't quite so discreet with his feelings. Eventhough he sat apparantly calm, gaze fastened to the floor, Ehlam could see his hands clenching and unclenching.

"So what do you think our friend over there..." Azriel nodded faintly in the Dragon Lord's general direction "...is doing nowadays?"

The calmly spoken question, neatly inserted in their casual conversation, startled Ehlam. For a few seconds, he just stared blankly at Azriel, uncomprehending. Then understanding slowly seeped
in, and he blinked. "Oh." Willow. "I don't know", he shrugged. "I've been thinking the same now and then. There hasn't been a challenge for almost three weeks now."

An empty smile crept up in Azriel's face. "Well, I suppose he's been... occupied."

Ehlam would have shuddered if he hadn't had his soldier's training in not showing emotions openly. Occupied. With Elias. He forced himself to chuckle. "Yes. At least at first. But..." He left the rest of the sentence hanging in the air.

"Lately, I suspect he's been gloating. He's always been good at that."

Not exactly the only thing he seemed to be good at. Ehlam cast a glance at Elias, and saw he'd been starting to understand as well, since his knuckles were almost white, and his shoulders almost shook with tension.

"Mm-hm." Ehlam merely grunted in response, nodding. He didn't dare elaborate. Azriel surely had a scheme of his own in bringing up the subject, and as long as Ehlam didn't know what, he wouldn't risk saying too much. To cover up for his lack of words, he took a sip from his cup.

"I suppose he thinks he's found a way to take revenge."

Revenge? For what? For Azriel's escape? Wasn't that typical of him? "I wouldn't be surprised."

"Yes", Azriel sighed. "And the means of his revenge are so much -him-." He didn't even have to glance at Elias for Ehlam to understand what he meant. To make Elias — whom Ehlam was sure Willow knew was important to Azriel in some way — into a servile bastard was the perfect way. "I'm a little disappointed in him, though."

"Oh?" It seemed the perfect thing to say.

"Yes. He must be slacking off. On the other hand, he's never been quite that good in judging me."

It must have hurt to speak so casually of Willow. Ehlam felt a wave of sympathy sweep through him. After he'd met Azriel, the younger man had been like a son to him, like a little brother. What did Azriel want by bringing up the subject? To get a reaction from Elias? To allow the boy to hear another side of the story while they all could pretend he wasn't listening?

Ehlam nodded again, slowly. "Perhaps not a thing to mourn."

"No", Azriel agreed. "Perhaps not."

What did he want

Part Twenty

A snapping of fingers woke me up from my thinking, and I quickly rose. That signal I knew, alright, and there wasn't really anyone else it could be directed at, could it? I hurried out to lord Azriel.

As I drew nearer to him, I hesitated. I longed to sit down in front of all that food taunting me with its delicious scent, but I didn't quite dare. Do nothing he hasn't given order of. I'd make my Lord
proud. So instead I paused and sort of... hovered beside him.

A gesture towards the floor made me blink in disappointment before resignment set in, and I sank to my knees. I glanced up at him, but at a movement from him, I quickly looked down.

Damn him. I felt almost ready to cry. I would have, if that Goddess-damned voice in my head hadn't told me it was just right. I hadn't yet deserved any food.

"Yes, Elias?"

Even more damn. He seemed to have noticed. "Nothing, my lord", I mumbled, not quite wanting to admit my failure in keeping my façade calm.

"Then why are you more tense than a predator ready to strike?"

Oh. Slowly, I forced myself to relax. It wasn't really any point in being upset about it anyway. But he'd asked a question. "I'm sorry, my lord", I admitted. "I presumed too much." I darted a quick glance towards the opposite armchair to make sure he understood what I meant. Even if Azriel was a coward, he wasn't a slow one.

At my words, Azriel barked with laughter, making me flush with both anger and embarrasment. "You thought that 'breakfast for two' included you?"

He didn't have to voice it loud, did he? Feeling the blood rush even more strongly to my face, I mumbled, "I... I guess so, my lord." I clenched my jaw tightly in... what? Anger? Remorse? Embarrasment? Probably all of those.

"Fool." It didn't seem as though Azriel was angry though. More humoured. On the other hand, that didn't quite lessen my embarrasment, did it?

Right then, someone knocked on the door. I froze. I took a deep breath.

"Open the door, boy."

I'd been half-prepared for that already, so I rose and crossed the room. Being half-prepared, though, didn't keep me from wanting to be anywhere else, and it didn't keep me from wondering who it'd be.

I forced myself to be calm as I slowly turned the handle and swung the door open. Keeping my eyes on the floor so I wouldn't see the reaction of whomever it was, I stepped aside with the door to reveal the guest to Azriel.

"Ah. Ehlam, it's good to see you", Azriel's voice came honey-like from the other side of the room, and again, I had to force myself to relax. Ehlam. My half-adopted father here. Why him?

"Hello, Azriel. It's been a long time."

Suddenly I regretted my disobediance the past week. I'd kept Ehlam from seeing his friend, hadn't I? And even if I didn't respect Azriel, I respected Ehlam.

//But not even Ehlam came to save you, did he?// that voice asked me. No, he hadn't.

"Please sit down."

I heard Ehlam start to cross the room, and again I wished it had been anyone else but him. Then I frowned slightly. It wasn't as though I was ashamed of my status. Not exactly. Yet I very acutely felt my nakedness as I closed the door and then returned to my place.

I tried to remain calm as they ate and talked. It actually helped that Azriel fully ignored me. That way I could think of other things. And I succeeded for a while. Then a string of their conversation
reached my ears and made it impossible for me to ignore it.

"...There hasn't been a challenge for almost three weeks now." Ehlam's voice.

They had to be talking about Lord Willow, right?

"Well, I suppose he's been... occupied", Azriel replied.

Why did it feel as though they were talking about it solely for my ears? Even if I perhaps wasn't supposed to listen.

"Yes. At least at first. But..."

"Lately, I suspect he's been gloating. He's always been good at that."

I almost snarled. How -dare- they talk about my Lord like that? Luckily for me, I guess, I managed to keep still by pressing my nails into my palms. The pain enabled me to think of other things for the few seconds necessary to calm down.

An affirmative grunt from Ehlam. At least he didn't openly agree.

"I suppose he thinks he's found a way to take revenge."

Revenge? For what? On whom? In what way?

"I wouldn't be surprised", Ehlam said wryly.

"Yes", Azriel sighed. "And the means of his revenge are so much him." A short pause. "I'm a little disappointed in him, though."

Oh? Now he had me quite confused, I had to admit. Not that I believed them, but I wanted to know exactly what they were talking about.

"Oh?" was the only thing Ehlam said.

"Yes. He must be slacking off. On the other hand, he's never been quite that good in judging me."

So the revenge was on Azriel, they thought? Why?

~~~~
"He's a weakling."
"There you are, my pretty."
"Why don't you loosen up a bit? For old times' sake?"
"But the Phoenix Lord has asked to have you back, and I could never
deny him anything."
~~~~

Had they... been together? Or had my Lord offered Azriel to join him and Azriel had refused? Willow had always said Azriel was a weakling and a coward, following that Queen instead of going his own ways.

"Perhaps not a thing to mourn", Ehlam said slowly.

"No", Azriel agreed. "Perhaps not."

"So... Why do you think he did it?"

I sensed Azriel shake his head. "I don't know. With people like him you never know why they do things. Perhaps just to taunt me."

//I hope they're not talking about me.// 'Cause I was most certainly not 'just to taunt him'. Willow had taken care of me, treated me with love when no one else had wanted me. I would never say that to Azriel, though. Not unless he asked about it directly. Not unless he asked a question that couldn't be answered in any other way. It hurt to think it, and surely Azriel would hear how much his betrayal had hurt me. As long as people don't know what hurts you, they can't do it again.

"Yes, perhaps." Ehlam put down his goblet on the table.

"Do you want some more wine?"

Obviously Ehlam must have nodded, for Azriel flicked his fingers just inside my field of vision, gesturing for me to rise.

"Fetch that bottle of Skai."

Without a word I went to retrieve it. I wondered whether I should pour for them as well, but since Ehlam held out his cup to me when I returned, I suppose there wasn't anything to wonder about.

As I poured, my eyes fell on the signet ring on his finger. In a flash, that first day here returned to me, replaying itself clearly in my mind, and I struggled to keep the bottle steady and my eyes firmly on the pale liquid. I didn't want to know what would happen if I spilled anything.

"Enough", Ehlam said quietly, and I straightened the bottle. Taking a step towards Azriel, I cast a questioning glance towards him to see whether he wanted some more wine, but since he said nothing, I supposed he didn't. But was I supposed to sit down or remain where I was?

I was tempted to remain standing where I was, since I'd be in the way, but Ehlam's presence made me change my mind. So instead I quietly moved to stand slightly behind Azriel, so I'd be at attention at the same time as I wouldn't be in the way.

Damn Ehlam for making me want to seem good. And it wasn't even because any mistakes I did now would result in punishment later. It was because I wanted to make Ehlam proud of me. Silly, wasn't it?

~~~~
"It was a rather severe blow you suffered to your head."
"So people will see you're under my protection."
"Did you choose your weaponry out of that?"
"I could draw a picture of you if you wanted."
"This is... very good. I'll see to it that an empty book is sent to
you, together with a pencil. Do you want ink as well?"
~~~~

He'd always been a little like a father to me. On the other hand, hadn't he been somewhat like a father or elder brother to Azriel? Or was he a lover? Right now I couldn't remember. But I'd never drawn them in bed together, at least.

Azriel and Ehlam continued to talk for a while, ignoring me again, and then they rose. Before Ehlam left, he embraced Azriel and kissed his forehead.

"See you soon, Azriel", he smiled and left.

And Azriel turned to me. I stood still, directing my eyes to the floor in front of me, but I could feel his eyes on me, and it made me very nervous.

"Put the bottle on the table."

Glad to get rid of something I could drop, I carefully placed the bottle on the table, then straightened. I could hear his soft footsteps as he approached me, and I swallowed and forced myself to breathe.

"You have anything to say, boy?"

I swallowed. Was he angry with me? Did he want me to apologize? Or did he ask if I had any complaints? I shook my head. "I don't think so, my lord." As an afterthought, "Have I done anything wrong, my lord?"

I felt his fingers caress the side of my throat lightly, and I failed to repress a shiver. My throat and neck had always been sensitive spots, though I hadn't quite thought about it until Willow had found
out.

"I don't know", Azriel said slowly. "Have you?"

He was asking me?

"I'm just slightly curious", Azriel continued, continuing to slowly caress my throat. Couldn't he stop with that while I still could stand? I tried to concentrate on his words. "Did you have any reason
to behave perfectly?"

I blinked, for a moment forgetting the movements of his fingers. Why did he ask that? "No, I..." I shivered again as one of his nails scratched the hollow under my chin, and swallowed, concentrating. "I just... didn't want to reflect b... bad on you." It was getting harder and harder to think. "P...please, my lord. Please stop."

Again his nails scratched me, causing my vision to blank out for half a second. "I have every right in the world to do whatever I want with you, haven't I?"

Curses on my sensitiveness! "Yes, my lord!" I managed to gasp. "Per-permission", I stumbled over the word, "to fall." I felt how my knees threatened to give way, and steeled myself in case he'd say no.

He leaned forward, and I could feel his breath in my ear. Biting my lower lip so as not to groan, I heard him whisper, "Permission..." I knew what was to come and closed my eyes in resignation "...granted."

My eyes flew open in bafflement at the same time as my legs folded underneath me. Had I heard correct?

He rounded me and crouched down before me, giving me one of his one-sided smiles. For a second I could almost imagine that it was like before, before he'd rejected me and given me to Willow, and it hurt.

"Impressive." He was eyeing my crotch, and I detachedly realized what he meant. "Are you that sensitive anywhere else?"

Closing my eyes, I prayed he wouldn't make me answer that question, but I knew there was no way out. A direct question had to be answered. "Yes." The word was little more than a whisper.

"Where?"

No, please... "My... nipples." I did not say you had to pinch them quite hard, though.

"I know how sensitive you are there, and I know they don't come near." His voice was low, seductive, bringing shivers down my spine. Damn him for being my weakness. "And I didn't tell you you could close your eyes."

I forced my eyes open, but kept them centered on his chest. That felt at least remotely safe, even if I was assaulted with images of the first time with him.

"Now tell me the truth."

"I... I did." I licked my lips.

"Oh?" His fingers went to my nipples and stroked them gently, hardly scratching. "I can't see any reaction to match -this-..." He leaned forward, still with both hands by my nipples, and softly bit my throat, sending a helpless shudder throughout my body.

//Damn you, Azriel.//

"Well?"

//Damn you.// "...Pinch them." I could barely get the words out. The more he knew, the more power I gave him over me.

"Like this?" His nails closed on my nipples and pressed.

I gasped as the pain-mixed pleasure swept through me, and I felt my body arch back in a desperate attempt to bring me closer to the source of pleasure. //Damn you!// I thought as a keening sound erupted from my throat.

I heard him chuckle somewhere far-off. "So it was true. I wish..." He cut off abruptly, but I was too spaced out to wonder what he'd been about to say. He still hadn't eased his pressure.

//Damn you damn you damn you damnyoudamnyoudamnyou...// The two words had become almost a mantra. I clung to the comfort of them, knowing that if I could just believe in them, I'd be safe.

Faintly, I suddenly realized that I lay on the floor, and that he'd let go of me.

"Interesting", I heard him say. "Good night, boy."

I didn't know whether to be angry or relieved. I desperately needed more, yet I hated him for what he made me feel. I heard him leave the study and then I heard the soft rustle of clothes and an equally soft splashing sound as he stepped down into his bath.

I lay still with my eyes closed, and it wasn't until several moments later that I noticed the tears streaming down my temples and into my ears.

It had happened again. He'd excited me, and then abandoned me. I blinked away some more tears. Was that how it'd always be? Teasing, fucking, ignoring. I regretted the day I'd ever put my hand on a pencil or brush.

And why couldn't I ever forget the fact that I still, despite all that he'd done, couldn't stop loving him?

"...Willow..." The agonized whisper left my mouth before I realized I'd been wishing he was here. When I felt like this, Willow had always been there, holding me, whispering words of comfort, reminding me of Azriel's treacherous nature. Why couldn't he be here now? Why couldn't I be there?

I had to get out of here. Not right now, but tonight, when Azriel was asleep. Perhaps if I managed to get back to my Lord, I would finally get rid of the knot in my guts. Willow would heal me with pain and comfort.

Yes. I had to get out of here. But how? I didn't know how to get to Willow's castle except the general direction from that temple we'd come to. So I had to go to the temple here in the palace. The Keep Temple, I recalled. And then I had to get them to get me to that temple somehow. I tried to recall every fact I remembered.

The temple had looked almost exactly like the Keep Temple, perhaps a little smaller, though. The... priestess? had been about forty, I judged, her hair — more than waist-long and almost black — streaked with silver. Her eyes had been a vibrant purple colour, her dress pale blue.

I didn't know her name, nor did I know what the temple was called, or in which region it lay. I could hardly ask to be taken to the temple nearest Lord Willow's domain, could I?

No, getting out of this place tonight was out of the question. I had to gather information, and I had to do it inconspiciously. I could never ask him right out. And I could hardly go without clothes. I had to disguise myself. As an ordinary servant, preferrably, perhaps bearing a message or gift to that priestess.

I had to make Azriel trust me. And to do that, I had to prove to him that... That I had got over my Lord. That I no longer belonged to Lord Willow in my heart.

It would be one of the hardest things I'd done in my life. But it'd be worth it if I could somehow get back to my Lord. It would take time, but somehow, I would manage.

Thus decided, I turned over on my side and attempted to go to sleep.

Part Twenty-One

As he rose, the boy lay back on the floor, seemingly only half-conscious of what happened around him. It was a shame to leave him now that he finally had got Elias to respond at least slightly. Not
sexually — you couldn't quite call the reaction -slight- there, could you — but emotionally.

He'd been quite surprised at Elias' reaction when he touched the boy's neck. That hadn't quite been his intent. He'd only meant it as a slightly warning touch. But despite what he'd thought, he'd been caught up and interested as the boy suddenly asked for permission to fall.

//Was it possible,// he thought as he entered his bath and undressed, //to be that sensitive?// And his nipples? He'd of course played with them a little before, but not like that. He'd been so totally unprepared for the reaction he'd got.

What had Willow done to him? He refused to believe that Elias had held those... preferences before Willow. He'd never mentioned anything about it the two nights they'd had together. Before Willow. He stepped down into his bath.

//I wish things could be like before Willow. For both of us.// Or did he? Before Willow. He'd been a young boy back then, unformed, but with a stubborn mind. When he decided to do something, he never did it half-way. He'd just never had decided to do anything important. And then...

* * *

It'd been an ordinary night. Unless for the fact that the Dragon Lord had been visiting. Back then, he'd been slightly feared, but still respected. There were rumours about him, but nothing that could be proved.

And then two men had entered his room. They were dressed in servants' clothing, without any pins or colours to reveal their lord. He'd barely had time to scream once before they'd put a hand to his mouth and a knife to his throat. Then they'd tied him up and carried him out the window and down to a pair of horses waiting. And then he'd been taken away.

His nurse had never reacted. Sometimes he wondered what she'd been doing at the time. She was supposed to sleep in an adjoining room, and if she'd been there, she'd had heard him scream.

He'd been thrown into a room, still tied up and gagged. He'd been waiting there for almost a day — there was a barred window in the room, so he could see the sun's passing — before the door had opened behind him.

When he'd first seen Willow, he'd been relieved. Finally someone had come to rescue him. But as Willow had crouched down beside him and maliciously asked him how he was doing, Azriel had begun to understand.

He'd been there for one month, and it had only been his conviction that he would escape that had kept him from giving in to Willow. He'd oh-so-slowly pretended to surrender, all the while keeping part of his mind free, plotting his escape.

And then he'd got his chance. In an unprotected moment, he'd come across an unbarred window, and from there, it was only a matter of stealth. He'd managed to take himself to Northplain Temple, and from there get to the Keep.

* * *

The Queen had been suprised to see him, yet glad. His mother had already told the Queen about his disappearance, and would have sent a messenge right away that I'd been found, if he hadn't asked her not to.

And then he'd told her what he'd been through. Reported it calmly, still — he presumed — in shock.

She'd been outraged, but hadn't quite done anything. She'd asked the War Lord of the Guardian House, Ehlam, to tutor him, learn him how to defend himself and perhaps one day take revenge. And that had been all. For the time being.

But when Willow's younger sister, Ruler of House Dragon, died, the Queen declared the closest female relative Ruler instead of Willow — or rather, the wife he'd be forced to take — as was tradition.

At this, Willow had declared war on the Queen, demanding to be named sole Ruler of House Dragon. That had been two years ago, and Azriel had recently moved to the position of War Lord of House Phoenix.

When he met Willow again for the first time, on the field of battle, he'd been stunned, overcome with memories. Willow hadn't changed one bit in the nine years that had passed.

Hadn't it been for Ehlam, Azriel would most probably have been dead. He'd stayed near Azriel, knowing it was his first true battle. And when Willow recovered first from their meeting, Ehlam had stepped between before Willow could do Azriel any harm.

That was when Willow had received his scar. A foot long, ugly scar at his right hip. He didn't feel sorry for the bastard. Repeating Ehlam's feat — or rather, to kill him once and for all — had been the sole thought occupying Azriel's mind for any longer period of time. Until Elias had appeared.

Azriel rose from the bath, and dried himself and went to sleep. Enough thinking about the past. He did that all too often. Sleep would be better.

* * *

"Come here, my pretty." The green-haired fiend beckoned gently, but with a steely edge to his eyes, saying that if he so much as dared disobey, he'd be a very sorry boy.

Azriel took a deep breath and walked up to his master and tormentor. There he stopped and waited, head bowed.

"Look at me."

Dutifully Azriel raised his head.

"You're a good boy, aren't you. Striving so hard to please me, right?"

"Yes, my Lord", Azriel whispered.

"Good." Willow was suddenly naked, and so was Azriel. Willow grabbed hold of Azriel's head, and met him halfway to plant a heated kiss on his lips. Azriel forced himself to respond, knowing what would happen if he didn't.

"You're so beautiful, my pretty." Willow scooped him up in his arms and carried him over to the bed. Placing the young boy there, he set to carressing him. Scratching with long nails — how he managed to have that long nails as a War Lord was more than Azriel understood — across Azriel's throat and nipples, slowly going down to encircle his crotch lightly — teasing.

Against his will, Azriel found himself responding. Just as well, though, he figured.

Then their places were reversed, and a hot and trembling Azriel was told to please his Lord. And he did. With mouth and hands. He hated it, but it was something that had to be done.

Then Willow sat up and threw him to his belly, and prepared to enter his slave.

* * *

Azriel opened his eyes with a start. Not again. Why did he always have to have nightmares? He never knew when they might come, and he always had to endure far more of them than he wanted before waking up, covered in sweat.

He dragged his fingers through his hair wearily. "I guess it's something I have to live with", he mouthed, unable to voice those words, dreading them.

He turned over and tried to sleep, knowing that it was over for tonight.

Part Twenty-Two

I woke up as the sun entered the window, glaring in my face. I rose, determined to put my plans into action.

Carefully and silently I cleaned the table as much as I could, putting plates and bowls in neat piles. Ehlam's cup went there too. Not Azriel's. I had other plans for that.

I crept into the bath with it, and washed it with the water from the pitcher, being careful not to disturb the man sleeping in the adjoining room. Picking up Azriel's clothes, I folded them neatly and put them at the foot of Azriel's bed. Then I went back to his study.

When I heard him start to move, I poured the last of the Skai into Azriel's goblet, and then silently padded into his bedroom with my eyes respectfully on the floor. Kneeling next to his bed, holding his goblet level with my head, I waited for him to wake up.

I heard him move about some more, then he stilled. I almost sensed his bafflement for a few seconds before I saw a movement at the edge of my vision, and the weight of the goblet vanished from my hands.

I heard him sit up and sip at the wine. I sat still, waiting, hands on my knees.

Finally the cup was placed on the bedside table.

"Did I tell you to do this?"

I'd been prepared for that question. "No, my Lord", I replied.

If he had any thoughts at all about how I addressed him, he didn't reveal it. "Then why?"

"Because I needed to apologize for my behaviour during the first week, my Lord. And because you usually have a cup of wine in the morning."

Silence. Then, "You realize I have to punish you for this, don't you?"

I knew. "Yes, my Lord. I'm sorry."

"Good. This has earned you three lashes. I want you to keep count of how many you'll have earned until the end of the week, when your punishment is due. I do not want you to miss any, or I will add twice those you forgot. Understood?"

I considered it for half a second. Then I nodded. "Yes, my Lord."

"Good." He rose, and I heard him moving about. Being careful not to even glance in his direction, I heard him get dressed, and then his feet suddenly entered my field of vision, and he sat down ate the edge of the bed.

"Now tell me. Why is it that you felt you had to apologize?" I could almost hear the scepticism in his voice. I'd have to convince him. The lie mustn't be too elaborate, or he'd immediately see through my schemes.

I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, my Lord. I was childish and bratty, trying to force your hand, testing you. It was foolish of me. I should have understood that you did it out of care for me. That you wanted me to be comfortable." I fell silent before I had said too much. If I even mentioned going back to my Lord, he'd immediately suspect something was wrong.

He was silent for a while. "I see", he said then. "You will be forgiven."

I understood. Will be forgiven. I wasn't back in his good graces yet. But he understood my effort, and if I continued to be good, he'd probably reconsider. "Thank you, my Lord", I said humbly.

Part Twenty-Three

He woke up slowly, feeling remarkably refreshed. He took a few more deep breaths and then opened his eyes.And froze in surprise and bafflement. Beside the bed was Elias, kneeling down and offering him a cup smelling faintly of wine.

He blinked, pondering the whys and wherefores for a moment before reaching out to take the cup. As he did, Elias' hands lowered to rest on the boy's knees. He still hadn't looked up.

Azriel sat up in his bed and sipped at his wine, still pondering Elias' reasons. Why had he suddenly decided to play the perfect valet? And why did he do it when the standing order was not to do
stuff on your own? Why was he doing this when he knew Azriel had to punish him for it? And how was he going to punish him? That was also a good question. Damn it, Azriel didn't -want- to punish him. He loathed having to hurt someone to help them in the long run.

He placed the now-empty goblet on the bedside table and prepared himself. "Did I tell you to do this?"

"No, my Lord."

Azriel blinked. Two things revealed. Firstly, the reply had been calm, not said with a voice screaming "ooops". Elias had known quite well he hadn't been ordered to serve him. And the odd infliction on the honorary told him that something had changed. He wasn't sure what, but suddenly Elias addressed him slightly like he'd addressed the Dragon Lord.

Azriel didn't reveal anything of what he thought. After all, those reflections hadn't taken more than half a second. "Then why?" he asked instead, keeping his voice level.

"Because I needed to apologize for my behaviour the first week, my Lord. And because you usually have a cup of wine in the morning."

Apologizing. For what? He'd obviously been quite aware of what he'd been doing. Why? "You realize I have to punish you for this, don't you?"

"Yes, my Lord. I'm sorry."

Sorry? For what? For doing something earning punishment, or for forcing Azriel to punish him? "Good. This has earned you three lashes. I want you to keep count of how many you'll have earned until the end of the week, when your punishment is due. I do not want you to miss any, or I will add twice those you forgot. Understood?"

Not even a second's hesitation. "Yes, my Lord."

"Good." Azriel rose to get dressed, knowing full well he took that as an excuse to get some time to think. Elias didn't move. Not once did the boy even glance up at him.

Was he getting somewhere with the boy, or was this just yet another act?

He sat down at the edge of the bed when he was dressed, regretting the fact that he couldn't postpone this moment any further.

"Now tell me", he asked. "Why is it that you felt you had to apologize?" He did not for one second believe it was a heart-felt apology.

Elias took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, my Lord. I was childish and bratty, trying to force your hand, testing you. It was foolish of me. I should have understood that you did it out of care for me. That you wanted me to be comfortable."

As he fell silent — rather abruptly, as if not wanting to say too much — Azriel frowned, thinking.

Could it be that Elias was telling the truth? Could it be that he really believed his own words? "I see", he finally said. "You will be forgiven." He was sure Elias would understand the less usual wording.

Wasn't his voice a little dejected when he replied, "Thank you, my Lord."?

"Good." Azriel nodded slowly, once. "Brush my hair."

"Yes, my Lord", Elias replied, carefully rising and taking the brush from the nightstand. Then he gracefully climed into bed to kneel behind Azriel.

It was nice to be able to relax for a few moments, imagining things were like they should be. Imagining that there was nothing wrong with the young boy brushing his hair with long, gentle strokes.

"Any particular hairstyle you would prefer, my Lord?"

The voice half-woke him from his reverie. "Just braid it", he replied, stopping short of a 'please'.

His hair was parted, and then he felt the rythmical tugging that was so familiar. Somewhen there was a pause, and he sensed Elias leaning forward beside him. A quick glance told him the boy was merely fetching the maroon ribbon he usually tied his hair back with.

Too soon, Elias released Azriel's hair and slid down on the floor to his usual position. Out of habit, Azriel brought the braid to the front, briefly examining it. Finding no fault, he shrugged it back
again and rose.

"I'll have breakfast at court. I'll bring you something to eat when I return. I expect a full report on what you've been doing, and for every fault in your behaviour, you will see less food and more
punishment." The word 'punishment' still tasted like bile, but he had to bring Elias back from Willow's control.

"Yes, my Lord."

Azriel, feeling his control wearing thin, didn't even bother to answer. He just strode past the young boy and exited his quarters.

END PART 23
to be continued ;)