The Songbird
 

An rp by Neko and Papi. May contain scenes of horror and violence.

The black horses pulled the dark carriage through the streets of Gismly, taking their passengers towards the magnificent marble palace sitting on top of the biggest hill. The small rustic royal city was busy with activity, stall vendors crying out their goods, hassled-looking house wives juggling shopping and babies and small children ran about. Arin watched it all behind the dark glass, his sorrowful blue eyes longing to be outside with them.

His Master, a thin and cruel looking man by the name of Batholemu, tapped his head with the diamond encrusted cane he held. "Airhead, this is the big time. No screwing it up," he sneered. The blonde nodded, rubbing his head and focussing his gaze towards the Palace.

He readjusted his hands, which were uncomfortably shackled and glanced down at his violin case. They had been preforming for various lords and ladies until the King himself had heard about Arin and his beautiful glass violin. Soon he was to preform in front of the royal court, earning his harsh Master thousands of gold coins. Arin got nothing, like usual. He would be lucky to not get a beating and to be fed that night.

The King rested is hands upon the throne and watched. His court, his kingdom, they were all governed by strict rules as was he. Everything in the place exuded riches, power and political maneuvering. Solon smiled ruefully to himself as he thought of the many women who'd somehow found their way into his arms for a little while to seek power and riches.

He allowed it because they were a welcome distraction from his loveless marriage. Yes, he and his queen had two beautiful children but they and their duty was all that held them together publicly. Marriage was not about love, though Solon may have wished it were so.

Our of boredom and curiosity he had invited someone, he always did. The king looked forward to seeing his guests arrive, and those other entertainers pushed forward by the ever eager to please nobles. The present dancer, a woman of exceptional grace, talent, beauty and flexibility, bored him. Solon lifted a hand to hide his yawn, and turned to shake his head slightly at one of his ever present guards.

The woman was taken away to be replaced by the next, and the next entertainer after that.

The carriage pulled up at the foot of the Palace's gates, which were guarded by many men holding swords and rifles. Arin's eyes grew bigger as he stared at the place, a giant building bigger than anything he had ever seen. He was pulled from the couch, struggling to stay on his bare feet as the chains made it hard to keep balance. Batholemu picked up the violin case and the end to Arin's chains, leading him towards the Palace like one would a dog.

The guards let them through, hoping that this lot of entertainers would make the King happy. It had been a long time since he was seen smiling or laughing, and many rumours were whispered about his relationship with the Queen. This boy seemed as fragile and graceful as a strangled rose.

They were led towards the throne room, and told to wait their turn behind various other performers. Arin's Master fidgeted slightly, as if he was nervous. He knew that the strange boy could make even the most stoic man cry with his singing voice, and the violin sounded better than even birdsong. Yet he was afraid the stupid peasant would ruin their chances. He hit the boy again, taking his frustrations out on his slave.

Arin was used to being hit, his pale skin was already bruised and cut in many places. This usually turned away those that paid to see more of him, especially at night. Arin was pleased about that.

The doors opened and it was now Arin's turn. He was led into the large room by Batholemu, who bowed low to the King who sat on the throne. Arin was forced onto his knees by the man and they waited for permission to start. Arin's chains were undone on his arms and he picked up his glass violin. Closing his eyes he poured every ounce of emotion and feeling into his song. The violin sung of a boy, enslaved by a cruel man. Lost in this world that was not his. Missing his parents desperately.

When the song was finished, he set the violin down and sung a folktale native to his country. It had been so long, he had almost forgotten the words. But by the time he was done, there was hardly a dry eye in the court.

He had to have him. Solon lifted a hand, then the other and began to clap. There was a tiny smile upon his lips, despite the tears leaking from his strange eyes. One was brown and the other blue. The king motioned one of his guards near, placed a bag in his hands and motioned him forward after whispering a few words.

"I've enjoyed this performance so much that I would like to buy him, as I see the boy is obviously a slave. You will be well compensated for the loss of income, a title perhaps?" A title came with lands, and that surely was more then enough to tempt such a greedy man.

The beautiful young man would be his, one slave among many but holding a particular place. Solon had never found much interest in a man, but ... this once perhaps he could make an exception and woe to the person who tried to stop him from taking pleasure where he pleased. It was enough that his life was spent in service to his kingdom and that he had given up hopes of finding true happiness long ago.

Batholemu grinned, pleased by his slave's work. The King's reaction was just as he wanted. A title. That came with fame, fortune, land and ladies... He bowed low, the grin not moving from his face. "Yes, Your Highness. I might be able to sell him to you for that price."

Arin listened slightly, looking at the glass violin his sister had given him when he travelled to this place. It was carved out of black, with small flowers and birds engraved around the sides. He closed his eyes and remembered his family, his mother and father, older sister and three younger siblings. They had lived in a city much like this one, under the rule of a great King. He snapped out of it when he was brought before this one, being forced into a bow as Batholemu took his payments and gave the King the keys to Arin's chains.

"Thank you, Your Highness. I am sure he will bring you great pleasure, in many ways," the cruel man sneered at Arin and hit him one last time, leaving him on his knees in front of his new Master, King Solon.

The man was insufferable. "He is mine now, and treating him in such a way is like giving me the blow. Guards, return it to him please, then throw him out. I don't want to see you in court again 'til I change my mind." That would take quite some time after such an insult. Title and all, Solon did give to the man, but they were fairly useless to gain connections unless the newly titled man was allowed to court.

Those strange eyes turned to his new slave. Understandably the whole court was rather enthralled and many could understand why the kind had gone to such lengths to gain such a treasure. Once cleaned up and well taken care of, the youth would be even more beautiful. "Bring him a seat."

A guard did so promptly, bringing the small and comfortable velvet chair to rest near the king's throne. The queen and their children were nowhere to be seen, holding court in another place for the time being. He missed them, his daughter and son... But hopefully this new entertainment would help to ease that away.

Arin smiled softly at how the cruel man was humiliated and thrown out by the King. It was nice to see him get some sort of payback after how badly he had been treating Arin. When offered a seat near the King, he blushed slightly, not knowing what to do. Of course he couldn't turn the offer down, so he sat and kept his head down, staring at his feet.

The entertainers swept past, and soon it was time to retire. There would be revelry, political maneuvering, but ... King Solon retired all the same with his newest pet. He didn't want to suffer through more attempts to gain his favor. No ... he simply wished to listen to music which had once moved him to tears so he could be soothed and his worries pushed aside. It would be too much to ask for other kinds of distractions from the battered boy he'd seen walk into the throne room.

Instead, the king settled down in a chair by the hearth of his room after removing the chain from the boy's neck. The collar remained, and later it was going to be replaced. Something magical to bind the slave, so that none save the king could order him about, or tell him what to do, and no where was accessible to him save the palace grounds. It would be perfect.

"Tell me your name, then play for me." Later, later there would be other things to talk about, but Solon was now too weary to bother with any of those now.

Arin didn't pay attention to any of the other performers, dread starting to well in his chest. He hoped the King wouldn't be the type to force him into anything, like so many other lords and ladies he had been "rented" to. He was taken to the King's chambers with him, and sat near the fire. When Solon spoke, he sounded weary and sad. Arin felt slightly sorry for him. He wondered where the Queen was and if he had any children.

"Arin," he replied shortly, his accent coming through when he spoke in English. He lifted his glass violin and played for the King, a song about sunshine on the hilltops and birds singing in the trees. It was less of a sad song and more of a lullaby, one that his mother used to sing for him when he was scared at night.

For the first time in days, he was able to relax. The music did as Solon had hoped, soothing away worries and replacing them with happy memories. A smile, small though it was, slipped across the king's features as the soft sounds filled his room. They were delicious really, these notes pulled from strings by nimble hands. "Arin ... Would you like to take a bath after this, to see a healer? I will have no one say I mistreat any of those under my care." It was just an excuse to set eyes upon the boy, to see him well treated and cared for.

Solon didn't want to let him out of his sight. What a delightful accent his newest companion had... And there was no need to worry of any political ties wrought by taking the young musician into his arms. Still, he would wait, make the youth comfortable and feel treasured... For he wanted to love and be loved, this king so near loneliness, and hopefully the slave would be the answer to his prayers.

A bath... That did sound nice. Arin hadn't had one since he lived with Batholemu. The man would simply spray away the stink with a cold hose. He finished his piece and set his violin carefully back into its case, careful not to scratch it. He finished locking it away and looked back up at Solon, his sorrowful blue eyes looking at the King's mismatched ones. He didn't know much of the King's language, but found it easy to understand it. He nodded slightly, glancing away before he held too much eye contact.

The king stood and opened the door to his room. With a few murmured words, bath and healer were summoned. Both were brought in not too long after. "Heal him." The elderly woman looked at her king, startled at the unexpected request.

"But, your Majesty!"

"You know I wish all people under my care to be happy and healthy, Rosbertine."

The woman seemed reassured by that and moved to place her hands on the king's newest subject. That done, she left as bid by her ruler and left them alone. Solon moved to test the water in the claw foot bath with his hand, and motioned for the musician to approach. "Go on. I won't watch." He would read and peek up from his work.

Smiling to himself, the odd eyed man settled down near the fire again with the papers that stated how his kingdom was doing. All went well so far... Though the trades going on between his kingdom and Priapus were on shaky ground.

Arin's beaten body seemed to grow numb and feel a lot better when the old healer lady placed her hands on him. He had met a healer before, but that was back in his country... It had been a long time ago. He took his clothes off once instructed, not fearing the King's gaze. He was used to people greedily looking at his naked body. It was small and thin, portioned like a young woman, just without the breasts. Of course men would lust after him.

He slid into the warm water, sighing at how good it felt to be able to be clean. He watched the King quietly, while scrubbing the dirt from his golden hair. He hoped the King wasn't put off by the two large scars he had on his back, right by his shoulder blades.

From time to time, Solon caught himself gazing at the other man. He couldn't help but notice the scars, after looking beyond movements that were unexpectedly graceful. "How did you get those scars?" A past master, most probably. The trading in lives had always puzzled Solon, it both fascinated and disgusted him at the same time. He was attempting to create laws surrounding slavery. He couldn't ban it, it brought too much income to his sometimes struggling realm, but he could try and gie the slaves some dignity and safety, and hope.

This man could be a good tool for that. Solon's gaze returned to the parchments before him.

Arin blushed and stopped cleaning, sinking low into the now dirty water. He didn't want to tell the King the truth, but lying wasn't a very strong point of his, especially after years of being punished for it. "I... A Master..." he struggled to speak and gave up, hoping Solon would find it satisfactory.

He finished cleaning and left the bath, finding a towel nearby and drying himself. He then wrapped himself up in it and waited for more instructions, unsure if he should put on his old clothes or wait for some clean ones.

"Tell me more, and take clothes from the bottom drawer of that dresser." The clothing there was old and worn, comfortable. They were the things the king chose to wear when he went out to hunt by himself, which happened rarely. Now, hopefully, the good quality clothing would seem some use from one who could appreciate them.

It was a shame to cover what had just been glimpsed, but it felt wrong to let the young man shiver beneath the gaze of a stranger. Arin deserved some dignity, despite the lot he'd been given in life. Solon knew he could change things, but was selfish enough not to do so ... not yet anyway.

Arin found some old clothes in the dresser and slipped them one, rolling up the sleeves of the too large top and finding a belt to hold up the larger pants. He really didn't want to talk about it, not wanting the king to take the information in the wrong way. He had vowed to keep his family secret, and his people... If the humans were to find out that angels and demons existed... "I was whipped," he replied, sighing again as he nervously joined the King by the fire.

He sat by the flames and warmed his toes, listening to the fire crackle and Solon work. It was a nice silence, the type Arin could get used to.

Solon pursed his lips and halted the scratching of his quill. "Arin, I've seen the results of a whipping, and those scars are not those. I may be a king, but I know how ugly life can be." Perhaps better then most nobles. He shuddered as he remembered his long ago captivity, and everything it had taken to regain his throne and humanity. He was mortal again now ...

Instead of thinking of those memories, he turned to peer at the young man sitting near by. The company was nice, much nicer then those demanding wenches sent his way. Every time they demanded a price, and he complied to some whom he thought it might help. This youth had no right to demand anything, and the thought was a heady one... A refreshing and welcome one.

Arin bit his lip, feeling bad for lying. He didn't say anything more on the subject, not really wishing to even remember what it felt like to have his wings ripped and cut from his body. What it felt like to know he would never go home... He sniffed slightly and quickly wiped away a tear, hoping Solon hadn't noticed.

He pulled out his violin instead, picking it up and playing another song. This one was about a bird that couldn't fly and he had always loved it as a child. He hummed a bit while playing, remembering the lyrics and feeling his body swell with emotion as it did when he played or sung.

A small, unexpected, sound made his eyes narrow then soften. Solon moved, shifted, to crouch near the golden haired musician. Lifting a hand, he brushed his fingers gently through the soft locks, too mesmerized by the heavenly music to say a word. The poor youth had lost everything in his life, how could Solon expect to replace that? The king who searched for love and expected it from a slave... If his nobles found out they would revile him.

Servants on the other hand, they were a kind type of folk and understanding. Still, the idea was silly. There was nothing he, a king, could offer to heal the hurts, the loss, that Arin held tightly to heart. He suspected nothing but freedom could do that. Perhaps he could prepare the musician for that then, make him feel human again, like his own person again. Yes, that could work.

Arin stopped playing and cringed a bit at the man's touch. He didn't want to offend his new Master, who had been so kind to let him have a bath, so he shuddered slightly and leant back into Solon's hands. "Are you a kind King?" he asked, still trying to gauge what sort of person Solon was. He seemed sad and full of loneliness, which in turn made him seem needy and selfish. Arin set his violin in its case one more time, blushing at the stroking.

The unexpected question made his hand still, but then he soothed himself with the feel of soft locks again. "I try to be," answered Solon honestly. "Admittedly, succeeding at that is ... sometimes hard." People made him act in cruel ways sometimes. "Are you worried, pet?" Solon didn't want to hurt Arin, far from that. He wanted to nurture him into a strong man who could take care of himself, though it did mean dashing the king's own hopes. Useless hopes, selfish dreams, they had no place in his mind, not when it came to his personal happiness.

Arin shook his head and sighed again, hugging his knees and returning his gaze to the fire. If the King thought he was good, then there was no reason to worry about how he might treat him. Of course sometimes a King would have to be cruel, but hopefully only to those that deserved it.

He stretched slightly and found himself falling asleep, gently nodding his head until it rested on Solon's lap. He tried to stay awake, but with the lovely quiet around him and warmth, coupled with the day's events and not being fed in a few days, it was impossible to keep his eyes open. He hoped that Solon wouldn't take offence.

(Aww so darn cute!)

That was reassuring to know, that the youth worried not. At least, not yet. It made Solon smile, to know he'd made such a favorable impression already. He hoped to prove that true. Tomorrow there would be a round of political maneuverings, of greeting the court and keeping everyone save himself content ...

Immersed in his thoughts, Solon took a few moments to notice the young man's shift. It made his breath hitch with hope, an unspoken dream, but the king forced himself to dash it. What he refused to do was move. He fell asleep, and ended up curled about his companion, possessive arms around the youth and murmured words leaving his sleeping lips as the enchanted bell in his chamber began to ring before the sun had risen. " ... won't you love me? Can't anyone .... "

The chime still didn't wake him. Solon clung to his dream desperately.

Arin woke from a dreamless sleep, hearing a strange bell chiming in the room and then followed by a louder one outside. He climbed from the king's arms, wondering why the man hadn't slept on his luxurious four-post bed. He walked carefully to the large windows, opening the heavy blinds to the small balcony that overlooked the city. Smiling with a happiness he hadn't felt in a long time, he opened the door and stepped outside, leaning against the sturdy railing and staring over the city.