09 Apr 2000
Disclaimer: I don’t own the GW characters. I have no money. Really. Please don’t get upset. This story is for entertainment only. Also, this story contains yaoi, some NCS, lemon, and dark stuff. If this bothers you: leave! Simple, ne? If you are under 18, leave. Now please. Comments and helpful suggestions are welcome. Flames will be laughed at, used to cover the birdcage floor, etc. As my grandmother said: If you can’t say anything nice, shut up. Please enjoy.
Long ago this entire continent was united by one man, King Treize. He was, for the most part, a good and just king. His kingdom was prosperous, feared, and admired by the world over. The great king owed much of his success to three men, the leaders of his armies. These men's names are record in history as Lord Heero Yuy, master of the standing army; Lord Zechs Marquise, leader of the Navy; and Trowa Barton, master of Treize's assassins. With these three men at his side, none dare oppose King Treize.
History also records that Treize's kingdom was broken and its people scattered. This is the story of that fall and strangely enough, it begins with a simple matter. King Treize ordered his advisor, Lady Une, to find a suitable reward for his three Generals. Knowing that all three men preferred to have their beds warmed by males rather than females, the Lady sent soldiers out all over the kingdom. These men were to find three exceptionally beautiful young men and bring them to the castle.
They did indeed find three very beautiful and young men and right in the capital city. At an orphanage, in the poorest part of the city, lived the three they kidnapped. As soon as Lady Une laid eyes upon the new prisoners, she knew exactly who to place them with. Ignoring the look of horror the three orphans shared, the cold hearted woman ordered the captives bound and placed in the bedchambers of each General.
History might have just passed these three by if not for one little fact; you see, though poor, they were not alone in the world. They had friends. But most importantly, they had kind hearts, strong wills, and determination. So it is, that a simple act brings about the fall of a kingdom, the melting of cold hearts, rebirth of crushed spirits and souls, and fulfills destiny. But then my children, that has always been the way of things.
King Treize listened to his General’s reports without batting an eye. The men were very thorough and very dull. It was all for show anyway; the men were very different when alone with him. They were more his sons than his followers. Finally everything was done and the King threw everyone else out.
"I am glad you all came back safe," Treize said while embracing each young man.
"They were pathetically easy to defeat, my lord," Zechs smiled.
"Perhaps, but you know how I worry," Once more ascending the throne, he continued. "Lady Une has secured some presents for you. They are in your bedchambers and you may want to clean up before going there."
Taking the dismissal for what it was, the men bowed and turned to leave. On their way out, Heero saw Une on her way to the throne room and motioned for the other to hide. From the shadows they watched the woman. None of them trusted her; she was too cold and calculating and they knew the feeling was mutual. With her were Captains Alex and Mueller. Something had to be up.
"When the Generals are done with their "gifts" you may have them or give them to your men. Whichever pleases you the most. They are not to leave this castle alive under any circumstances. If you tire of them, you are to kill them. Is that understood?" The woman instructed. From her tone, she might have been discussing what she had for dinner.
"Yes, Lady." Alex laughed. "We fully understand and have seen the three in question. Anticipation doesn’t begin to cover what we are feeling. I take it we may do whatever we want?"
"Yes," and Lady Une smiled. Then they entered the throne room.
None of the Generals said what they were thinking. Time to bathe and find what the Dear Lady had left for them.
Half an hour later, Heero was done and entered his bedchamber. The sight that met him stopped the professional soldier in his tracks and made him consider drooling. The most beautiful creature he had ever seen was tied to his bed.
He had incredibly long chestnut hair that rippled like water when he moved. It was only slightly mussed and framed his heartshaped face perfectly. Large violet eyes were the center of that face and they stared at him through a haze of fear and tears not shed. Long slender limbs graced a lithe body. His wrists were bound by supple rope and it was attached to the headboard to ensure the beauty did not leave; Heero could clearly see the bruises left from the prisoner’s attempts to free himself. Add to all this the fact that the young man’s shirt lay slightly off one shoulder, his lack of shoes, and the rumpled pants, and Heero’s pants became suddenly tight. Never had he seen anything so incredibly enticing before. The General wanted this fey beauty; wanted him now.
Not one to waste energy, the General took quick, measured steps to the bed. With each step, the young man pushed himself further back on the bed, tugging ever more desperately at the rope preventing him from leaving. Small whimpering sounds issued from him as Heero reached the bed.
"Shhh," Heero soothed; his voice was remarkably gentle for a man who killed for a living and he reached out to calm his captive. The young man’s response was to pull away even more violently; he pushed himself as far as he could and huddled there, curled into a fetal ball, soft whimpers escaping him.
"I won’t hurt you," Heero promised. Using even, soft strokes, he caressed the frightened man’s back. All that hair was like so much silk. It took all of the fighter’s self control not to bury his face in it. "Shhh...look at me. There’s nothing to fear." Nothing changed.
Using only a fraction of his considerable strength, Heero lifted the beautiful face. Tear filled violet eyes met cobalt and Heero slowly closed the distance between them. His grip tightened as the other tired to pull away and this forced the beauty’s mouth open.
Never taking his eyes from his partner’s, Heero kissed the man. He felt hands pushing against his chest, but it didn’t discourage the soldier. Pushing his tongue into the other’s mouth, the older man feasted. No one could taste as good as this man did. Something made Heero certain no one had ever kissed this beauty before. The innocence of his captive made the General’s blood burn.
Finally, he broke the kiss and waited for the angry words he knew would come. However, no sound came. The man just averted his eyes and waited for whatever would happen. Heero ran his hand down the captive’s throat, searching. He sighed deeply when he felt a small gem embedded in the other’s throat. Without looking, he knew it would be a clear crystal; such things were designed to steal speech and silence slaves. Fury shook him for several minutes until he realized the silent captive thought the anger was directed at him.
Clutching the trembling man to his chest, Heero laughed. "I am not angry at you, my beauty. My anger is for the one who silenced you. I will see them punished for this." Disbelief filled damp eyes. "I prefer to hear my lovers. Lady Une knows this. She silenced you as a warning to me." At the word lover, the captive once more tried to push Heero away. "You know why you were brought here. I promise not to hurt you, but in order to protect you from Une, I will take you."
Questions, unasked, were directed at him. "Lady Une plans to turn you and your friends over to some very nasty people when we are done with you. You, however, are far too lovely to turn over to a group of animals who could never appreciate your qualities. But to keep you my love, I must take you." So saying, Heero drew a knife from his boot. Keeping his hold on his soon to be lover, he cut off the peasant’s clothes and threw them against the wall; something more appropriate would be given to him in the morning.
Naked, the chestnut haired man was even more incredible. Muscles moved under flawless skin as he tried to free his hands and push Heero away at the same time. Each movement was unconsciously graceful and erotic. Unable to take the temptation any longer, the General pushed the other man down.
His callused hands ran over smooth skin and one sought a nipple as his mouth claimed the other. A deep moan let him know his ministrations were being enjoyed, but a hand in his hair let him know some resistance remained, so he switched tactics. Leaving the nipples to his hands, Heero’s mouth sought something lower.
The violet eyed man’s hips bucked as Heero took him into his mouth. The soldier drown the tied man in sensation, driving him into an almost insensible state. The pants and moans that answered his actions tried his patience as he wanted to take the seduction to the next level, but was afraid to push things too fast and hurt his lover. Eventually, after what seemed an eternity, Heero heard the sound he’d been waiting for.
The sound was a cross between a whimper and a groan. Looking up, he saw the other watching him with passion clouded eyes. His body was cover with a slight sheen of sweat and his eyes locked with Heero’s.
"Are you ready?" Heero asked, his voice husky with desire. A hesitant nod answered him. A smirk split the soldier’s face. The man thought this was a one-night stand. The Great General would use him and throw him away. Most Nobles would have. What would the young beauty say when he discovered Heero wasn’t planning on letting him go? Time for that later.
Heero freed one nipple and grabbed a small bottle from his nightstand. Removing the lid, Heero dipped a finger into it and pushed the coated digit into his captive. A yelp broke the silence and the fighter had to once again hold his lover still.
"It’ll feel better in just a moment." He assured. "I promised not to hurt you."
He thrust the finger in and out, seeking and finding that special spot. Soon he added a second and third; each time making sure to brush against the spot that caused his lover to writhe and moan. If he could talk, Heero was certain he would have been begging. The moment the lovely captive finally let go and began thrusting against those fingers, Heero knew it was time.
Stripping quickly, he settled between the younger man’s legs. Never taking his eyes off the face under him, Heero slowly invaded his lover. Sobs racked the longhaired man and Heero wrapped a hand around his erection to ease the pain even as he seized his mouth in a deep kiss. After a few strokes of his hand, the pain was forgotten.
Heero sped up his thrusts as he began to lose control. No lover he’d ever had before was this tight or passionate. The writhing man under him matched the General’s every move; pushing up as Heero thrust down, his tongue sparing, his back arching in pleasure.
The two rocked back and forth driven by a need neither could vocalize. Increasing the motion of his hand, Heero altered his rhythm. A ragged moan was the only sound his lover made as his back arched. They were both very close. Slowing his thrusts, Heero made them deeper and longer, driving himself as far into the beautiful man as possible. A sudden tension throughout the other’s body warned Heero and seconds later, his longhaired lover came. The sudden clenching of inner muscles took the older man over the edge with a shout.
It was the most intense orgasm Heero had ever experienced. His vision darkened at the edges and he collapsed forward, breathing deeply. When he came back to himself, it was to the sounds of choking sobs. Gently levering himself off his lover, the warrior kissed away the tears running down the young man’s face.
"Did I hurt you?" he asked softly. A negative answer eased his heart. "Do you think I just used you and will now throw you away?" This time he got a nod. It was small, frightened, and followed by downcast eyes. Once again, Heero forced the other man to look at him. "I am not going to throw you away. Not ever. Do you understand?" No hope was reflected in the violet orbs. Heero kissed the other man. "I will not let you go."
The General held his newest lover close until exhaustion claimed the youth. For the rest of the night, he watched the silent man sleep. With his features free of all pain and fear, the young man hardly looked old enough to be considered a man. In the morning, Heero would find a magician to remove the Silence Stone and replace it with a Claiming Stone. It would annoy Une to no end that she couldn’t touch this beauty and that alone would provide Heero with endless hours of enjoyment. Thoughts of all the other things he could do with his young captive followed him into sleep.
Zechs headed back to his room with a sense of weary anticipation. There was no doubt in his mind that the ‘present’ would be an attractive young man, but he was also certain Une, as she had so many times before, had chosen someone completely wrong for all of them. It wasn’t that any of them expected to find love; they were the kingdoms best killers after all. Instead, each man was looking for something that they lacked.
Heero wanted someone he could talk to; someone to fill the silence of his life. Trowa wanted someone who was gentle and didn’t fear him. The tall man was so tired of people looking at him like he was some kind of monster and he’d been terribly hurt by mercenaries before King Treize had saved him. As for Zechs, the platinum blond wanted a lover with a fiery spirit and intelligence to match; which was why Une filled his bed with pretty bubble heads; Heero’s with silent men, and Trowa’s with heartless bastards. It was her way of keeping them in line.
Reaching his room, Zechs hesitated to open the door. Deciding that it really didn’t matter, the longhaired fighter opened the door. A quick look revealed a surprisingly handsome young man tied to his bed. The captive had shoulder-length, black, silken hair brushing gracefully over his shoulders. At the sound of the door closing, almond shaped, dark eyes focused on him.
"Let me go," the young captive demanded, yanking on the rope around his wrists for emphasis. Zechs found himself smiling. This one had spirit. What could the dear Lady be up to?
"And why should I do that?" Zechs questioned softly as he approached the bed. "After all, it is very rude to return a gift."
"Kisama!" The young man glared for all he was worth, but it only made Zechs want him more. "I am not some piece of property. The laws of this country forbid kidnapping."
The General’s eyes widened. So this one had a brain in his head and could use it. Something had to be wrong with him; Une would never give Zechs exactly what he wanted. Not willing to play her little game, Zechs launched himself forward catching the young man by surprise and began to kiss him. The captive’s startled gasp gave the tall fighter access to his mouth, which he devoured like a starving man.
Zechs could feel the other trying to push him away or use his legs to lever the older man off and gained even more respect for the other’s intelligence. Unwilling to give up the sweet recesses of the Asian’s mouth, the fighter wrapped his arms around the smaller man’s waist. He felt his wrist brush against something hard along his captive’s spine and was shocked when the once reluctant man suddenly arched his hips into Zechs’ and began kissing back with surprising passion.
Pulling away, he found those enticing dark eyes were unfocused and hazy. Cursing up a storm, Zechs roughly rolled the young man onto his stomach and tore off his shirt. He found what he was looking for. Embedded in the soft skin of the prisoner’s back was a small purple gem. It was located right at small of his back, where it would have the most effect.
"Rolling the young man back over, Zechs could see intelligence returning to his face. "Listen to me. The Lady Une had placed a Pleasure Stone on your back. Do you know what that is?"
Frightened, angry eyes met his. The confusion there was answer enough.
"It is a stone used on Pleasure Slaves." The young man’s eyes filled with horror and he desperately tired to escape Zechs’ embrace.
"No," the Asian moaned. He began to pull at the ropes so hard his wrists started bleeding.
Zechs could see the rising panic and knew he should never have started off his explanation like that. Not knowing what else to do, Zechs reached behind the frightened man and ran a finger over the gem. The resulting sigh was incredible erotic. The older fighter found himself once again cursing Une. She found someone Zechs would have loved to spend the entire night seducing and knowing this, placed a gem on him to make sure Zechs would not be able to. She gave him exactly what he’d been looking for and then sure he could not enjoy it, and probably did the same to Heero and Trowa. Some day they were going to kill that bitch.
Finally, the young man regained control and Zechs began explaining again.
"I will have it removed in the morning. For right now, there is little I can do about it. Do you have a name, my beautiful one?" A stubborn crease formed on the young man’s brow and Zechs was hard pressed to hide a smile. Beautiful, intelligent, and spirited; there was no way Zechs was ever going to let this one go. Carefully placing a finger next to the gem, he made sure the young man knew who was in charge here.
"Wufei. Everyone calls me Wufei." was the grudgingly given answer. "And I am not yours."
"Oh, but you are. For tonight at least. Lady Une has plans for you and your no doubt beautiful friends in the morning." Wufei shivered, surely remembering the cold look in the woman’s eyes. "I have other plans." So saying, Zechs took the younger man’s mouth again and let his hands roam over the Asian’s tender, sensitive skin.
One hand took charge of a nipple and pinched it causing Wufei to gasp and giving Zechs room to push his tongue into his captive’s mouth. His other hand caressed the slight bulge between Wufei’s legs. The younger man squirmed under Zechs, trying to avoid the questing hands and the sensations they caused.
Unfortunately, Wufei pushed himself down and backwards to avoid Zechs and the gem brushed against the bed. The inexperienced man was caught entirely by surprise by the sudden rush of lust that flooded his system. He wrapped his legs around the tall blond’s waist and thrust his hips against him. Zechs pulled his mouth away and Wufei heard himself groan at the loss.
"You should be more careful, youngling," the older man laughed. "Any sort of caress will activate the gem."
"Really?" Wufei hissed sarcastically.
Nibbling on the dark skin near Wufei’s ear, Zechs whispered to him, "Don’t you like what I’m doing? Am I hurting you?"
Zechs could sense the struggle within his captive. So he was honorable as well. Better and better.
"You are not hurting me," the younger man finally answered, his breathing coming in little pants. "And I do not find your touch unpleasant."
"Beautiful and honest," Zechs murmured. "I like that."
"I don’t like you," Wufei grumbled. The blond smiled and slipped his hand inside Wufei’s pants.
In mere moments he had the younger man incoherent with pleasure. Despite Zechs’ warning about he gem, Wufei kept unconsciously thrusting his hips into the older man’s hand causing the gem to brush against the bed covers and driving him insane with lust. Finally, he could take the sensations no longer.
"Please," he begged. "Please finish this."
Hearing the raw need in his lover’s voice, Zechs relented. He had wanted to take all night with this one; truly claim him, mind, body, and soul, but Une made that impossible. Whispering soft assurances, he took a small jar from within his nightstand and coated a finger. Using one hand to remove the tattered pants his lover wore, Zechs began to prepare his partner for what was to come.
The first finger caused Wufei the squirm and whimper softly. The second caused him to cry out and clutch at Zechs as the older man touched something inside him that made every nerve in his body burn with unbearable pleasure. The third finger drove the younger man beyond the bounds of reason and he blindly thrust his body on those fingers.
Zechs could hardly stand it. Wufei was covered with a slight sheen of sweat, his hair flew around him as he pushed against his lover’s fingers, and the most enticing moans and whimpers erupted from him. It was only when the younger man began to beg in a hoarse, desperate voice that Zechs realized he was ready.
"This is going to hurt," Zechs warned gently.
"Do it, damn you," Wufei rasped. "Please!"
Grasping his young lover’s waist, Zechs lifted him up and placed him so that he straddled Zechs’ lap. Slowly he lowered the younger man onto himself. Wufei grabbed his shoulders and tried to forced Zechs to increase the pace, but the older man was stronger and slowed down even further to punish his young partner. Wufei threw his head back and moaned. "Faster. Please."
Then he was fully inside Wufei and they stared at each other for a moment, each breathing hard. The young Asian leaned forward and kissed Zechs deeply and passionately. After a few seconds of shock, Zechs returned the kiss and actually moaned into Wufei’s mouth as the youth began to rock his hips. Each man sought and found their rhythm and the sound of soft moans filled the air.
Eventually, Zechs began to stroke Wufei’s erection and it proved too much for the already aroused man. With a shout, the young man came, grinding his hips into Zechs’. The older man followed Wufei, claiming the young man intimately.
As the two lay on the bed too exhausted to move, Zechs thought of all the things he would need to do in the morning. First he would have to untie Wufei. On second thought, Zechs chose to make that the last thing he would do. First he needed to get a magician to exchange gems. He wanted this young man marked with his Claiming Stone before Une got any ideas. The warrior wondered briefly, as he held his bronzed lover close and listen to his soft breathing, if the others were as happy with their gifts as he was with his.
Trowa took longer bathing than his two friends, but then he had more blood to wash away. He never spoke about his kills to the others and never would. They killed in battle, with honor; he killed by stealth, lies, and without honor. There were times he wondered how they all could still be friends. Knowing he eventually had to return to his room, the tall killer got dressed.
He left off his shirt; his hair was still wet and would soak the fabric and it was just going to end up on the floor of his room anyway. With an absent-minded gesture, Trowa hooked his whip to his belt and left. The whip was his favorite weapon. With it he could snap bones, choke opponents, blind an enemy, and kill in any number of ways. The only downside was it made him look far more sinister than he really was.
Once he reached his room, the assassin stopped. Every "gift" from Une tended to be flawed. What would it be this time? Another jaded professional who only saw him as a job? An innocent so afraid of his reputation that they would pass-out at the sight of him? No matter what, Trowa would not complain. Une could do a quite amazing innocent act if she wanted. Opening the door, the killer hardened his heart, only to have it turned to mush by the sight that greeted him.
A pair of sapphire eyes stared out of an angelic face, pinning him where he stood. Tears slowly ran down pale cheeks as the young man's lush lips trembled. Golden hair brushed at the sides of his face and hung just below his shoulders. Delicate wrists, already showing bruises from struggling, were bound together with strong rope. The captive's plain white shirt had been ripped in front and hung off his shoulders, revealing the creamy skin underneath.
Trowa forced his gaze lower, feasting on the sight of this angel. Long, graceful legs tapered into thin ankles and Trowa found him shocked out of his visual exploration by the sight of a steel manacle wrapped around the right ankle and attached to a chain set solidly in the baseboard. Small dots of blood stained the steel and told of the prisoner's attempts at escape.
Rage overtook the skilled killer and he took several steps forward, his hand unconsciously going to his whip. The golden haired youth's eyes widened, fear dancing across blue pools, as he put up his hands defensively and tried to move further back on the bed. The movement jerked the manacle, causing a small hiss of pain to escape the young prisoner. It was that sound which called Trowa from his anger.
Green eyes narrowed as he took in the sight of the terrified man. Why did everyone fear him? Those beautiful blue eyes darted from Trowa to his hand; it was only then the assassin realized he was gripping his whip. The captive must think Trowa meant to use it on him.
Placing one hand forward in a calming gesture, Trowa slowly put the whip on the ground. Summoning the softest tone he could, he said, "It's alright, little one. I am not going to hurt you. I did not mean to frighten you."
Leaving the whip behind, the General slowly approached the bed, keeping up the gently litany of words. Slowly sitting on the side of the bed, the tall man motioned for the smaller to come to him. A quick shake of golden hair and a whispered "No" were his answers.
"Do you think I will harm you?" Trowa wanted to know. He had never seen anything as lovely as this young man and it broke his heart to see such beauty twisted by fear of him.
"No," the other whispered again, the small body trembling.
"Do you have a name? Or should I simply call you, Little One?" The killer changed his tactic.
The question brought out a hesitant smile. "Quatre. My name is Quatre."
"Well, Little Quatre, do you think I am a monster?"
"No." Again the smaller man shook his head, causing all that beautiful hair to fly around.
"Then why won't you come to me?"
"They did something to me," Quatre said as his trembling increased.
"What?" Trowa asked, forcing down the sudden fury he felt.
Quatre placed his small hands over his heart; his face was a mask of fear and shame. "They put something here. It's making me feel things."
"Let me see," Trowa said softly, moving further onto the bed, gratified when Quatre did not pull away from his touch. As gently as he could, the older man seized both sides of the already made tear in Quatre's shirt. It was his plan to increase the rip and not only show what had been done to the younger man, but reveal the satiny skin. The fabric, however, was old and worn; combined with Trowa's great strength, the shirt was split straight down the middle.
Unable to stop in time, Trowa ended up giving Quatre's body a violent shake; the little blond's reaction wasn't at all what he expected. Instead of pulling away, the small man moaned and leaned into Trowa, grinding his hips against the assassin's leg. Lust, fear, and shame ran across angelic features in rapid succession.
Holding his own emotions down, Trowa examined Quatre's smooth chest, finding only one blemish. It was a small yellow gem with a black vein running through it. In all the years Trowa had known Lady Une, the moment he understood what the gem was doing was the closest he'd ever come to actually going out and killing her. The yellow stone was used in interrogations to increase a person's fear. That the little blond could even talk spoke volumes for his true courage. The black vein, though, made Trowa furious. The thin line controlled a person's sexual interests, reversing them. A gentle, kind person would be forced to enjoy pain, humiliation, and fear; the more he felt of each, the more excited he would get.
From the way Quatre was reacting to the gem, he was a very brave, kind, sensitive, and gentle person. Everything Trowa had ever wanted and Une had corrupted it. Twisted this beautiful young man into something Trowa would, she thought, throw away. Pulling himself together, the killer calmly told his captive what the gem meant. With each passing sentence, the blond became more ashamed and aroused. Knowing only one way to help his new lover, Trowa turned the young man on to his stomach.
Grabbing the moaning man's pants, the killer pulled. Made from the same material as the former shirt, the pants gave easily, leaving the writhing blond naked.
"I will be as gentle as I can," Trowa promised, but he didn't think the blond really heard him.
Taking a small jar from the locker at the foot of his bed, Trowa slicked his middle finger and roughly pushed it into Quatre. The resulting cry of pleasure shook the assassin's world. No one had ever let themselves go around Trowa, all of his lovers maintained such complete control. Creating a steady rhythm, the General added a second and third finger. His blond lover thrust back on those fingers with wild abandon, his hair flying about his face as he uttered impassioned cries, urging his tall lover to take him.
Stilling Quatre's hips, Trowa entered the small man in one quick shove. If the suddenness of the act bothered the little blond, he didn't show it; instead, without waiting for his body to adjust, he began trying to move, squirming to work himself on Trowa. The taller man held tight, however, and waited until he was certain Quatre would come to no harm before he allowed the other to make any kind of movement.
Quatre's became more desperate as he found he could not move, until Trowa could take no more and let him go. Driving himself backward, Quatre forced Trowa as far into him as he could. The adept killer tried to match his lover's pace, but found the little blond was too far gone to slow down.
Reaching around, Trowa started to pump Quatre's erection. The slight blond screamed with pleasure and snapped his hips back with such force it actually rocked the taller man and he groaned at the feeling of being buried so deeply in such heat and pressure. Faster and faster they moved, each sensing the needs of the other and giving them what was required.
Suddenly, Quatre's entire body tensed and he came with a shout of pure ecstasy. His inner muscles clamped down on Trowa and the older man gave his own yell as he came inside an inferno of pleasure. Collapsing against his small lover, the killer found himself more exhausted than he'd been in years. Under him, Quatre's shaking slowed and eventually was replaced by deep breaths, indicating he was asleep. Gently leaving his lover, Trowa retrieved his whip. He hated to be without his weapon, especially now that he had something to protect. Une would pay for what she'd done. First, he would get that damn thing off Quatre's chest and replace it with a Claiming Stone. That would drive Une crazy for sure. Smiling slightly, the tall man fell asleep watching over his angel.
Treize stared at the young woman on his bed. Unconscious, all the anger and pain absent from her face, she was actually quite lovely. He ran a hand through her short hair. She would look much better if she let it grow, but the King doubted she ever would. Several old scars ran along her back and arms. Newer bruises, the results of her flight through his castle, could be seen in various places. Sighing, the man left the bed and returned to his desk. There were still more reports to go over.
His mind, however, refused to stay on the paperwork; it kept traveling back to the young woman. Their first meeting hadn’t been exactly friendly. Treize had been standing in his throne room wondering why he felt so lonely. Although he had many people worshipping the ground he walked on, only his three generals were close to him. Une was a fantastic strategist and ran the castle with ruthless efficiency, but Treize often found himself unsure if the woman had a soul.
Once, many months ago, Treize gave into the loneliness eating at his soul and took the more than willing Une to his bed. To say the experience had been physically gratifying would be a gross understatement. The woman left him completely physically sated, but emotionally felt nothing. Throughout their time together, Une had reacted as any woman would have, but it had seemed so mechanical to Treize that he wondered if she felt anything at all or was just doing what she thought would make him happy. The lady was, as with all things, too precise, too perfect in her responses. Treize still felt himself grow cold when he thought of that night.
He wanted someone who was honest in their actions and feelings toward him. A person with passion to match his, willing to lose control, but strong enough to face whatever came their way. Was that so much to ask? Facing his young captive, Treize sighed. That was when this young lady had burst into the room. All fire and fury. She had struck him with remarkable strength and run. Treize winced a little at the memory.
After they had finally captured her, Treize ordered her bathed and her wounds treated. Such valiant effort should not go unrewarded. Of course, there was also the fact that the King had plans for her and it would not do to have dirt in the King’s bed. The young lady woke up just once during the whole thing and proceeded to try drowning one of her bathers before passing out again. A smile graced Treize’s face; this one certainly was stubborn, fighting even when she wasn’t fully conscious.
Then there was the matter of his Generals. Each one wanted to have a Claiming Ceremony first thing in the morning. Even stranger, they wanted it to be a private one. He agreed easily, relieved his friends found happiness at long last. It was their requests more than anything that gave him the courage to try what he planned. A pained groan came from the bed. The young woman was waking up. Very good. Treize left his seat and approached the bed.
"Goddess damn it," Ashi muttered as she awoke in a situation very much like her Brothers’. Her wrists were bound in front of her with a rope that was attached to the headboard, her right leg hurt so much she was certain it would be useless, and she was naked. A vague memory of someone trying to drown her in roses surfaced. It didn’t make much sense, but then everything smelled like roses. A sudden dip in the bed told her whoever owned the bed had just arrived.
"In this country, my dear lady, we have a God, not a Goddess," a cultured voice informed her.
Ashi’s eyes flew to the speaker’s face and she scrambled to the other side of the bed when she saw Treize. The King calmly took the rope in his hands and pulled her back to him. With one leg mostly useless, and her arms tied, Ashi could do little to stop the man.
Treize pulled her into a slight embrace and smiled down at her. "You act as if I am going to hurt you."
"You already have." The woman growled. Ashi watched the King’s face become serious and for a second a deep pain ruled his eyes. Forcing herself to relax, she spat out the next words like a curse. "Just get it over with."
The older man gave a wolfish grin. "If you insist."
His mouth descended on hers, taking her breath away as his tongue forced its way inside, exploring, touching, and tasting. Shock cleared the young woman’s mind. The next thought Ashi had was filled with rage.
‘How dare he kiss me like this! Like I’m going to enjoy it! He doesn’t even know how to kiss properly.’ Narrowing her eyes, the warrior decided to teach the King a lesson.
It was Treize’s turn to feel shock when the woman narrowed her eyes and pressed back against him. Not just participating in the kiss, but fighting for control of it. Her tongue sparred with his, trying to push him out so she could invade his mouth. A lack of air finally forced the two apart and they stared at each other; neither entirely sure what just happened.
"W-What was that," Ashi panted.
"Very nice," the King whispered in her ear. He ran a hand up the inside of one thigh, thoroughly enjoying her gasp of pleasure. Slowly, he eased her backward onto the bed. When she lay under him, his body towering over her, fear entered lavender pools.
"S-Stop," she whispered weakly, pushing against his chest with her bound arms.
Treize immediately ceased his actions, surprising his lovely captive immensely. Giving her a reassuring smile, the tall king gently took one breast into his hand and stroked the already hardened nipple. The new sensation caused her back to arch just a little, pleasing Treize a great deal.
"I’m not going to hurt you. Besides," he laughed, moving his mouth to the other breast and allowing his lips to brush against the nipple as he spoke. "I thought you wanted me to just finish this." Then the tip of his tongue took the place of his lips.
Ashi uttered a sound somewhere between a whimper and a gasp, burying her hands in the King’s ginger hair. They didn’t try to pull him away or force him to continue; indeed, they trembled, a sign of the inner battle being fought by his young lover. He knew no one had ever touched her like this before, and he knew also that he was nothing more than a symbol of all she’d lost in her life. What he wanted could not be forced and had to be given if it was to have any meaning. With barely contained anticipation, he watched her face; there her answer would be clearly written.
The fight inside the young warrior resembled a whirlwind as thoughts careened off each other and were swept away by new sensations. Emotions warred with each other. She should hate this man. He led the country that destroyed hers; he kidnapped her Brothers; he had to be evil. The litany of his sins continued only to be drown out by another part of her. Treize wasn’t what she expected; he felt pain; he was gentle; he was giving, not taking; he was so very lonely. How she knew these things was not clear to her, but in the deepest part of her soul, she knew them to be true.
"I never....I’ve never," she haltingly whispered.
"I know," Treize whispered back. "I will be gentle."
Ashi’s hesitant nod was all the permission the King needed. His hands slowly pushed her legs apart. The King used great care trying not to jar her injury; this night could have nothing to do with pain. Unsure lavender eyes watched him kiss his way down her chest and stomach. A question lit her eyes as Treize moved lower still. Smiling as if he knew the most wonderful joke in the world, Treize ran his tongue over her crotch and without waiting to see her reaction, pushed it inside her.
Ashi’s back arched as she uttered a cry of absolute pleasure. Her head twisted from side to side as intense waves of sensation rocked her body. Eventually, whimpers of longing drifted from clenched lips as the inexperienced woman tired to deal with what her body felt. Treize finally took pity on her and began kissing his way back up her body, removing his clothes as he went. When he reached her mouth, they repeated their first kiss.
The King rolled his hips into hers, letting her feel how much he wanted her. As the kiss deepened, she thrust her hips against him, letting him know she was ready.
"It’s going to hurt at first," Treize warned her.
"I know."
Settling between her hips, the King slowly pushed forward, listening to his lover carefully. He met with some resistance and gave a final thrust, burying himself to the hilt and bringing a strangled cry of joy and pain from Ashi. Holding still, Treize bent and kissed tears from her eyes. Ashi, however, looked at him fiercely.
"Don’t you dare stop," she growled, although this time the growl was far more throaty and seductive. "If you leave me like this I will kill you."
"Your wish is my command, my lady," he laughed and kissed her again, beginning slow even thrusts.
They rocked against each other, feeling the pleasure build; not sure where it would end, if it would end. What they were feeling was too good to end. Soon, however, tension began to build in them. Treize knew what it meant and hurried the movement of his hips, pushing deeper into his lover every time. Ashi ground against him, moaning at the sensations his filling her caused. Faster and faster they moved, rushing toward oblivion.
"Treize, by the Goddess," Ashi screamed as she came, wrapping her good leg around her lover’s waist.
The King followed her, filling his new lover and falling against her as the strength seemed to flow out of him. Under him, Ashi trembled with the force of her orgasm and reaction to it. Treize took her into his arms and hummed an old lullaby he knew. The first time always brought such emotional and physical confusion.
"Thank you," the tired woman whispered muzzily before falling asleep in his arms.
Treize looked at her, then he laughed softly. How odd this young woman was, but that was part of the attraction. There would be another addition to the Claiming Ceremony in the morning.
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