"I don't want to make you unhappy, but I can't..." He hugged himself, trying to think of words. He uttered a few in his own language, knowing Solon wouldn't understand them. He looked at the sky in between the tree leaves again, wishing he could just fly away from his slavery. "I can't... Please you..."

He flinched, expecting to be hit or worse. He shouldn't be saying such things to the person that owned him. He belonged to Solon and if the older man wanted his body, Arin had to give it to him.

The king shifted closer to the angel. He lifted his head, odd eyes filled with a mixture of emotions, sorrow, joy, admiration, caring.There were too many to untangle as he reached out to wrap one of his warm hands over Arin's. "All I ask for is your company Arin, nothing more. It is ... it is enough, so long as you can look upon me with some form of friendship, of fondness" My angel. The thought surprised Solon, for the suddenness of it, and the strength of conviction and possessiveness.

He felt as if his heart clenched painfully, without any real foundation for such a feeling. Solon did know, distantly, but refused to acknowledge such a futile thing. "I will free you, a year from now. It should be long enough for me to put such laws as I've been contemplating about slavery into play, and to convince the people of my kingdom that my ideas will help them, instead of hindering." The king averted his eyes, and lifted his hand away from the angel's. He took a few steps away, towards the cottage, but hesitated. Solon couldn't just leave, not without hearing how Arin would react to such news.

He hoped the angel would be happy.

Arin couldn't understand the man's words. He sat on the fence for a moment longer after he started to retreat. He was to be set free and Solon wanted to stop slavery. That much he could understand, but what to reply with? His heart was beating so fast, it hurt. He was still afraid to enter the small cottage with the man. How could he entertain him? How could he make Solon happy, without resorting to giving the man his body.

He jumped down from his perch and followed after Solon, starting to shake as they entered the old home. It had the air of safety, but felt empty as a house often did when no one had been in it for a long time. It was nicely furnished and looked really homey, but Arin suddenly felt claustrophobic. He saw the door that led to the bedroom and backed towards the door. He could run and nothing would stop him. He could be free.

His racing heart hurt him so much, he had to sit down, feeling dizzy. He started hyperventilating slightly, trying to calm himself down. "Please. Don't hurt me," he said quietly, feeling some tears fall from his eyes.

He hadn't expected Arin to follow him. Already, Solon had set aside his shirt, folding it neatly and setting it aside as he prepared himself for a bath. It was the only thing he could think of to help him relax, to soothe away hurts he wouldn't even think of being present. The king shook his head. What a fool I am.

Then he heard footsteps, calling him from his thoughts and making him whirl around. Solon's odd eyes filled with silent panic when he heard Arin's words and saw the other man's tears. He held his hands out, reaching as he strode towards Arin. The dar haired man knelt and wrapped his arms tightly around the frail seeming man before him. "Shh, shh, my angel. Hurting you is what I dread... I ... I would never do such a thing, not willingly, not knowingly."

Solon pulled back, smiling softly. "You can remain in here. I shall go outside for a ride, to find someplace where I can take a bath." There was a metal tub in the bathroom, complete with plumbing and all, but Arin didn't know that yet, though he would soon, he supposed.

Arin nodded slowly, not quite believing Solon in his state of panic. His head was spinning now and his heart hurt so much. If only he could find some herbs to stop the minor heart attack... He leant back on the chair he had sat on and closed his eyes, feeling himself slipping away and into an unconscious state.

The green trees sighed in the light breeze as he ran through the forest, searching for one of his younger siblings. He tripped on a tree root and fell hard onto his stomach, where he promptly sat up and rubbed his foot, gasping for air and trying not to cry. He heard a kind voice behind him and turned his head, his eyes falling on a stranger. The man was taller than him, had tanned skin and green eyes. He wore a hat, and... Had no wings.

Humans were rare in his homeland. He had seen a few before, but had never been this close to one or talked to one. "Are you alright, little one?" the kind voice asked him. He nodded and sniffed, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"I tripped, is all," he said, amazed that the human knew his language. He was offered a hand and he took it with a smile.

"What's your name, love?" the human asked him as he wiped the dirt from his clothes.

"Arin. And you?"

"My name is Jonathan."

Arin started from a sleep he shouldn't have had. He panted heavily as he glanced about his new surroundings, calming when he remembered where he was. He wondered where Solon had gone to and hoped that he hadn't worried too much about his current state. He found his violin and took it out of its case, playing to calm his nerves.

He left, but went not very far. Panic gripped the king's heart. Solon had run to his room and ripped open a heavy metal trunk he'd sworn never to touch again. From within he pulled a black and silver tome. Quickly, he let his eyes rove over the spells within, the sometimes twisted horrific things, and those benevolent ones that did no harm save the price it asked of the caster. Surely there was something here which could help Arin ... Surely... something could save him if he lay dying.

A wrenching sob escaped his lips as tears welled at the corner of his eyes as he felt the old dread and sorrow filling him again. He didn't think he could bear it again, thinking he'd killed someone he cared for... Last time it had been a ruse for her escape and wrought by friends while he was mad, but this, the sudden unconsciousness of the angel couldn't have been such a thing.

He didn't hear the music, or rather couldn't. Solon was too caught up in the past, in the present dread and self-blame, to let anything calming, or soothing, reach him.

Calmed now, Arin decided to explore the small cottage. He carefully moved through the clutter, looking at the different things on the walls and shelves. He came to the bedroom and found the door closed. He heard Solon inside and it seemed he was sobbing. He had worried the kind King. Feeling bad for the trouble he had caused, he slowly opened the door. When Solon didn't look up, he came closer, sitting lightly next to him and petting his head.

He saw the trunk and its contents, as well as the old book that smelt of magic and grew slightly curious. Was Solon a mage? Magic-using humans were rare, after all. Arin's kind could use a few different spells, though he had never learnt any. Most magic users nowadays were elvin in origin.

The feel of a hand against his head made Solon react instinctively. He dropped the tome and wrenched around, his hands moving to immobilize Arin's arms. The king used his whole body to make sure the other man couldn't move an inch, his eyes staring blindly into the past. It was only after a few moments spent in such a position that he relaxed, collapsing upon the angel with a sad sigh.

"I'm sorry ... So sorry Arin. Did I hurt you? Earlier, I was so worried. It reminded me of ..." He couldn't speak of it. Solon had worked so hard to leave his past behind, and yet he felt like he needed to give the angel and explanation. "I was once shaped and melded into a weapon against my will. It is why I act so strange sometimes." No one save Arin knew, save for Solon, now. Everyone else had died long ago. Murmuring soft words , reassurances and apologies, the king pressed a light kiss to the angel's cheek before pushing himself away and busying himself with locking the book into the large trunk once more.

Arin thought he had remembered a story told by his father, of humans and their experiments with magic. His father was battleworn and old. He had always loved to hear his stories about the days humans and angels fought. Arin could still see him now, his greying wings, his eye patch and the way he spoke in a low growl... And yet... The look of betrayal, disgust and grief when he left his home with Jonathan. You were right all along Father... Never trust a human.

He rubbed his hand where Solon had grabbed it, not feeling too hurt as he watched the King lock away the book. "You use magic?" he asked, wondering why Solon was so ashamed of this. "I can, but never learnt." He had been too young when he lived at home. Now he would never learn, as an angel's magic is stored in its wings.

He laughed wryly. "I could once force shadow creatures to do my will, not mine ... The one who created me and bound my mind. I had scars far worse then yours once, but when ... I finally died, but didn't, the spells granting me the powers I had shattered. Now, I have a tiny grasp upon magic, just enough to get by." Solon turned away from the angel to sit upon the the trunk.

He fiddled with his hands, tugged at his hair. Turmoil ran through him. He couldn't sit still. There was too much going through Solon's mind. Memories were assailing him now in his waking moments.

Arin could sense that this was a topic that hurt the King to think about. Even though he was still very curious, he tried to change the subject. He moved from the bed and looked at a painting. Solon sat surrounded by children and a kind-looking woman. "This your family?" he asked, wondering if the artist had taken some liberties to make the Queen look so beautiful and kind. The way Solon spoke of her, Arin was sure she was quite mean.

The dark haired man nodded. "Yes. The queen does love making sure we keep up appearances before everyone, and ... she truly loves our children." He could smile for that. Solon turned his head to peer at the picture along with Arin. It was a beautiful piece, capturing one of the joyful moments he and his wife had shared.

The tolerated each other. Sometimes, he could fool himself into thinking they were friends, no matter how untrue that was.

"Why doesn't she like you?" he asked suddenly, as though he could read the King's thoughts. He hoped that he wasn't getting too personal again. He glanced at Solon and then at his feet. "I'm sorry." He had almost forgotten his place. Solon was his Master, and the King. He was nothing but a slave. He shouldn't be asking such personal questions. If this was his last Master, he'd be whipped for his insolence.

He moved back to the bed and sat lightly on it, staring out the window and desperately wishing he could go outside. He felt trapped, like a caged bird. At least the King's quarters had a balcony.

"The marriage was not her choice. She hates me for forcing her into it. She loves someone else, and wishes that our children could have been his." Solon sighed as he remembered once having someone who loved him so... It had not been made to last, such a nebulous unreachable thing. He shook his head and turned to observe Arin, sitting so quietly as he looked from within to the outside world.

"You can go out if you wish, alone, so long as you stay within view of the windows." He didn't want to impose his presence upon Arin. It was already enough that he owned the man, could do what he wished with him if it struck his fancy. But it didn't. Solon wanted nothing more then to free Arin, and perhaps... Again he shook his head. The possibility of his wish coming true was so remote, it was silly to think of such a thing.

Arin nodded and left the King's side slowly, almost hesitating. Perhaps Solon could have a bath while Arin was outside. He had seen the metal tub in the other room. He smiled softly and stepped outside, breathing in deeply as he started towards the field where the horse stood, feeding on the sweet grass. Its head lifted as he approached and it came to him as he sat on the fence. Arin continued to smile as he pet the animal softly.

"Our Master is a kind one. I'm happy he takes care of both of us," he said quietly, watching as the horse's ears moved as it listened to him. He could sense its thoughts and knew that it agreed with him. He sighed and stopped patting the horse, staring up at the sky again.

"But Father... I love him!" Arin sobbed, collapsed on the ground and covering his face. The slap across his face was starting to sting. He glanced up at his Father, who looked enraged.

"A filthy human? How dare you?! How dare you ruin our family's name by tainting yourself..." His Father didn't shout, but Arin could feel the thunder rumbling under his breath. "You must choose. To be with this filthy human and betray your Father, or be a good boy and stay here with us. What will it be...?"

Arin couldn't meet his eyes. "I'm sorry Father..."

He blinked back tears, angry that he had to think about that now. The horse was nudging him, trying to cheer him up. "One becomes lost in the past... It's a terrible thing..." he muttered in his language, petting the animal as he thought.

The king waited a few moments for the other man to leave. Once he was certain, Solon let out a sigh as he stood. The floor creaked as he moved into his room where the water steamed. It was with great relief that he clambered into the hot water, without a stitch of clothing on of course.

He very nearly fell asleep, once he'd scrubbed himself with smooth, floral smelling, soap. Solon leaned his arms against the metal edges of the tub, letting his harms hang free as he let the rest of his body sink into the blissful warmth. His eyes closed, though his mind remained very much awake.

He jumped down from his perch, rubbing the tears free from his eyes. He didn't want the man to worry about him any more. It seemed that on top of being King, Solon had many other things to worry about. Arin wouldn't let himself be another. He put on a faint smile as he re entered the cottage, hearing the man resting in the tub that was in the small tiled bathroom. Not wanting to disturb him, Arin settled himself on one of the large sofas and hummed a lullaby to cheer himself up.

The king remained where he was for a few moments more, soaking in the peace and quiet, until footsteps reached his ears. His strange eyes snapped open. With a splash, he rushed from the water and pulled on his clothes haphazardly. The white tunic was in disarray, the laces tied all wrong, his black leggings rumpled in a horrible way. He didn't even bother with shoes. The presence of a possible intruder had him in a panic, and worried for Arin's safety.

Swiftly he moved across the floor. He ignored the papers and quills cluttering his desk, preferring instead to snatch a dagger from one of the drawers. Solon slipped from the room, his ears straining to ear any sound. A lullaby in a familiar voice caught his ear when he entered the living room. It was only then that he relaxed, putting the dagger aside on a table near the hall leading to his room. "Did you enjoy your time outside?" He walked as he spoke, nearing the apple red sofa with beautifully carved legs that imitated leaves.

Arin had started at the sudden splashing noise. He wondered why Solon had rushed out of the bath so quickly. Perhaps this area was a bit dangerous. They were in the middle of nowhere, any thief or assassin could try to claim the King's life. Arin shook his head, no this place was peaceful. A serene getaway in the midst of so much emotion... He glanced back at Solon, blushing at how nice the man looked while wet. Part of his chest was showing and Arin watched as a drop of water slid down it and out of sight.

He tore his eyes away and blushed so brightly, he would have looked like a tomato. "It was nice," he replied simply, swaying on the sofa a little.

"Are you hungry? I could probably make something decent for us." He had followed the other man's eyes absently, and found himself chuckling a little at Arin's reaction. Solon shook his head, sending droplets of water flying a little everywhere from his wet hair. No matter how Arin acted, the angel wanted nothing of that.

The king moved to sit quietly near the other man, leaning back against the sofa's back and letting his legs stretch out before him. "Or ... you could make some music for me," said Solon softly. Just imagining the songs the angel could create made a smile cross his lips, and his sharp features soften.

"I am hungry," Arin replied, looking back at Solon as the King sat on the sofa. He blushed again when he saw the smile on the man's lips. Was he the only one that got to see him smile like this? Why did he make the King so happy? He reached for his violin and played a song, that reminded him of a flowing river. He closed his eyes and became lost in the music, as though he could feel that river flowing through them.

When he stopped playing and opened his eyes again, he was standing right in front of Solon. He slowly placed the violin on the ground and stepped over it, sliding himself onto the man's lap. Shaking slightly, he rested his head on Solon's chest and listened to his heart beat. Why had Arin changed so much? At first he was terrified that Solon would take advantage of him and now, he wanted the King to do so.

He would have spoken of what simple fare he could make, but soothing music soon filled his ears. The king smiled at having his second request met. Solon closed his eyes to savor the heavenly music, played so expertly upon the strings of such a fragile instrument. It was such a wondrous time, so peaceful.

When the music stopped, Solon opened his eyes to peer up at the angel questioningly. Then warmth flooded his lap where Arin settled down and his arms went up automatically to tug the younger man close. "What's this? This morning you were acting like you wanted nothing more then to stay as far away from me as possible." His velvety voice murmured the words.

"I'm confused," Arin stated simply, shaking slightly but nuzzling the King's warm neck. "I was scared you'd hurt me... Now I want you to..." He looked at Solon with a searching glance, wondering if the man understood these feelings any more than Arin did. He had never wanted to be with someone this bad, not after Jonathan, after all.

"You are so sad, but so kind... I want to make you happy." He shyly kissed Solon's chin, still shaking slightly from both anticipation and fright.

He shivered, tilting his head to feel even more of what Arin was doing to the long column of his neck. It took some effort for him to level his gaze to meet the other man's. Those eyes of Arin's could bring Solon to his knees, so pleading and full of questions he couldn't answer for the other man. There were just some things one had to learn for themselves, and feeling like the world had keeled over just because of one person, well that was one of those things.

Solon smiled softly at the tender and unexpected gesture. "You don't need to go this far ... I said earlier that your company alone is enough."

"But... Don't you want me?" Had Arin mistaken that look he had seen in the King's eyes? He had seen it in many other men's eyes before. He blushed, feeling like a fool. He looked away and covered his face in shame. Had he really become a whore, like his father said he would become? Why were tears falling so easily now...?

He sobbed quietly into his hands, feeling so stupid that he had thought Solon, a King, would want to love him, a slave. He was cursed to forever be lonely and to never understand his feelings like any other normal person would.