Two tall men fumbled their way into the large main hall of the castle as they carried what seemed to be a large burlap sack with something wiggling inside. The men struggled and grunted as they came closer to the thrown. The object inside the sack struck one of the men in the face, causing him to drop his end. There was a loud grunt and muffled sounds coming from the sack.
"What is the meaning of this?!" The King bellowed as he made his way to the two men.
"Forgive us sire," The second man said as he quickly bowed to the large man, "There was no other way to get him-"
"Dimitri!" The King growled as he ripped the sack open to see his teenage son bound and gagged and glaring up at him, "This is not how a prince behaves! What about your duties to this kingdom?! Do you think this behavior..."
Dimitri fought with the cloth in his mouth as his father continued on with his lecture. Dimitri's arms had been bound to his sides from his shoulders to his elbows. He couldn't believe the guards had caught him this time.
"Are you even listening to me?!" The King shouted as Dimitri spit the cloth out.
"This is your kingdom, not mine!" Dimitri snapped.
The King sighed as he rubbed his forehead, "I know what this is about. You're trying to get attention by running away. Well I have a better solution for you."
"What?!" Dimitri's eyes narrowed in disbelief as he stared at his father.

The King brought himself up, puffing his chest out as he usually did when he thought he had a good idea. He grinned widely and gestured for another pair of guards to bring in his surprise from one of the small chambers leading off the throne room. The brought in a small teenaged boy, dressed in rags and bound by chains. His dirty face was staring sadly at the floor, he didn't even bother looking up to see where he was. They had lifted him up, as his feet looked blistered and sore. They threw him down on the floor by the King and Prince's feet and growled at him to stay bowed.
"What do you think?" the King asked his son. "Your own personal slave."

Dimitri eyes widened as he paused, thinking about his options for a moment. He couldn't believe how this boy looked, how the men treated him, it instantly made Dimitri mad. He could show his fury, but he knew if he did that they would only take it out on the boy. Dimitri bit his bottom lip as one of the guards untied him. He wanted to help the boy, but he had to be careful about it so he didn't upset his father.
"I'll take him," Dimitri said as he lifted the boys chin to see his face, "But first I want to clean him up and take care of those blisters."
"I think that would be alright," The King said after some thought.
Dimitri gave the boy a concerned look as he looked him over, "What's your name?"

The boy avoided Dimitri's eyes. Not only was this the son of his parent's murderer, but this boy was of higher status than he was currently, and Mercy had learnt courtersy from a very young age. "Mercy, Your Highness," he said quietly, blinking slowly. "My name is Mercy." He prayed to his Gods in his mind, hoping that the Prince wasn't like his father at all. Maybe this boy would be kind and release him from slavery. Even though Mercy knew that there was no chance of him ever becoming King and rebuilding his Kingdom, he still refused to be a slave, a play thing of the very people who brought about the extinction of his race.

"My name is Dimitri." He said as he leaned his head down to look in the other boys eyes.
He was surprised to see that one eye was red and the other was blue. He smiled gently at him before turning to one of the guards and held his hand out. "Give me the key for his chains."
"Your highness, why do you need-"
"I want him to be able to move around properly!" Dimitri snapped, "How is he supposed to do that if he's chained up like an animal?"
"Y-yes your highness." The guard replied as he handed him the key.
"Are you pleased then my son?" The King asked as he puff up with a smile.
"Yes father." Dimitri replied, not looking away from Mercy's shackles as he unlocked them.

Mercy watched Dimitri unshackled him with interested. While lowering his gaze, he took in the Prince's appearance from the corner of his eye. The boy looked slightly older than him, with purple hair. The look of intense ferocity marred is otherwise youthful and good-looking face. Mercy wondered why he was so upset.
"Then, you can take this slave to your room. But know this, if it misbehaves I will take care of it like I did with its parents," the King boomed in a loud voice. Mercy shuddered at the memory of seeing his mother's lifeless eyes staring at him as he hid beneath the throne. He wished he could jump at the King and throttle him to death, but he knew that vengence was better plotted out and not just rushed into.

Dimitri froze for a moment, realizing what his father meant. He swallowed his rage as he forced his body to keep still.
"Alright father." He said, not looking in his direction, but instead turning to one of the guards, "Have some warm water and a towel sent to my room and some food as well."
The guard gave him a confused look.
"What?" Dimitri asked, "I'm hungry from all that fighting with you and I feel dirty after being in that sack."
This was a lie, but he couldn't let any of them know that he was planning to clean up Mercy and let him eat something.
"As you wish." The guard said as he turned and left.
"Fallow me Mercy." Dimitri said as he lead the way to the hall.
Dimitri wanted to wait until they were out of sight to carry Mercy to his room. He was sure it must hurt to walk with all the blisters and how sore his feet looked.

Mercy walked with a stoop, hobbling on swollen and bleeding feet. After he was captured by the King's guards, he was forced into chains and tortured by the army. He was forced to work in a labor camp until an official looking man bought him. From there he was taken to the Palace of his enemies and here he was, being a slave for the murderer's son. He wondered what the Gods had planned for him. Many a time he had forsaken them, believing that no God would put him through something like this. Maybe that's why they punished him.
He continued to stare at his feet, half-by out of courtesy, partly out of fear. He had seen what the Prince's father could do, but he had no idea what his son was like.

Once they were out of sight Dimitri picked the other boy up, keeping one arm under the boys knees and the other behind his back. He was surprised at how light the boy was. He looked like he had been through so much and Dimitri couldn't help but feel guilty about his fathers men causing this.
"I'm sorry my fathers men treated you like that back there. Once we get back to my room I'll get you cleaned up and get you some food too." He said with a gentle smile, "Oh, and you don't have to worry about being mistreated anymore, I won't let anyone hurt you like this again."

Mercy wrapped his thin arms around the Prince's neck as he was carried. He blushed slightly at the kindness and embarrassment of having to be carried. He adverted his gaze, staring instead at his destroyed feet. He had once wore the finest silk shoes, that his grandmother had spun for him. He liked that they matched his eyes, one was blue and the other red.
"Why are you acting like this, if I may ask Your Greatness," he questioned quietly, hoping he wasn't being too disrespectful. He had learned the hard away about questioning motives.

"Don't call me that," Dimitri said as he looked down at him, "My name is Dimitri. The reason I'm acting like this is because I can't stand the way my father treats people, or the way he runs this land. Honestly I wish I hadn't been born into this lifestyle. All of this fuss over me just because I have 'royal blood'. I don't see whats so 'royal' about it, I still bleed just the same as anyone else in the land. Honestly who put our family in charge of this land? What gives us the right to be considered 'royalty'?"
Dimitri blushed bright red as he realized he's been ranting enough that he almost passed his own bed room door.
"Excuse me," He said as he cleared his throat, "I didn't intend on blurting all of that out at once like that."
He pushed the door open with his foot and carried Mercy into his room before gently setting him down in a chair that was near a small table.

Mercy sat like he had been taught to all his life. He realized he was sitting too regally and quickly hunched over. He didn't want Dimitri to think he'd ignore the rules of being a slave. "Didn't your Gods assign your family to be the rulers?" Mercy asked, remembering the story his father had told him. "That's how my...." he went quiet and lowered his gaze. He couldn't reveal to Dimitri that he was a Prince as well. Well... He WAS a Prince.

Dimitri noticed him suddenly slump, but didn't say anything about it in fear it might offend him.
"I don't know about that," Dimitri said as he took the seat on the other side of the small table, "I know it would sound blasphemes, but I wonder some time if there really is such a thing. I assume that's what you were told when you were young though, right? That that's how it's decided?"

Mercy nodded slowly. He had no idea if it applied to Dimitri's family. They were from different races, different cultures, different religions. Mercy didn't know about the Prince, but he was still highly religious, even if his Gods had left him in a difficult spot. He guessed he was just being tested by them.
Someone knocked on the door and two servants entered the room, carrying a large metal basin filled with steaming water. Another followed, holding a towel and a tray with assorted soaps and other cleaning liquids. They bowed at the sight of the Prince. "Where does his Highness wish this to be placed?" the old butler, named Grant, asked him with his usual air of snobbishness. They glanced in wonder at the slave sitting on the Prince's chair, but then continued to bow.

"Oh thank you Grant," Dimitri said as he got up and inspected the soaps, "Here on the table is fine. And could you see about getting us something to eat?"
"Us?" Grant said with a questioning tone as he glanced to Mercy.
"Yes, us." Dimitri replied, "I wish to eat with my new friend."

"Of course, Your Highness," Grant bowed low after gazing hatefully at the slave. He led the other servants out of the room and closed the door behind him. Mercy frowned, staring at the hot water. He couldn't understand Dimitri's intentions at all. Why would he be treating his slave like a person? Slaves were treated like dogs at best. Mercy had gotten accustomed to the treatment at the work camp. His people had never, ever enslaved another human being. To own a person was not only a crime, but against their beliefs. Only the Gods owned people.

Once the servants left Dimitri picked up one of the small towels and dipped it in water.
"Let me see your face." Dimitri said as he rang out the water from the rag, "After we get you cleaned up I'll ask about getting some medicine for your feet."
Dimitri couldn't believe how badly people could treat another person. He didn't see any point in slaves, servants, and social statuses. He gently rubbed the warm damp cloth against the other boys cheek, trying to help clean him up.

Mercy blushed slightly at Dimitri's kindness. He would have never acted like this towards a prisoner when he was a Prince. He let the boy clean him, wondering what was going to happen next. The thought of getting his feet fixed was appealing, he was sick of feeling his flesh peel and seep. "Thank you, Master, you are very kind," he spoke again, his voice calm and clear now. The hint of an accent showed through now that he wasn't mumbling. Mercy's people spoke a different language. Mercy, being the Prince, had been taught multiple other languages, for diplomatic reasons. When he had asked his father why he had to, the King had replied, "One day, you will have to speak to these other people and settle peace between our people and theirs."
Dimitri's people had always been at war with Mercy's. All because of religion and land disputes. Mercy sighed and felt his eyes start to water. He would never see his Kingdom again. Or his father or mother.

"Don't call me master," Dimitri said as he continued to wash his face, "Call me Dimitri."
Dimitri couldn't help but notice the accent and like it. He noticed his eyes starting to water and he gently kissed his forehead. It was something his mother used to do that always comforted him, Dimitri thought maybe it would comfort Mercy too.
"I'm sorry for how my people have treated you." Dimitri said softly, "I promise, I won't let anything bad happen to you again."
Dimitri dipped the cloth back in the water and rang it out before starting to wash the other boys arms.

Mercy blushed slightly as Dimitri kissed him. He found it weird that the boy had done so. Kissing was what girls did to their lovers, or what mothers did to their children. Men rarely kissed others, and he had never seen a man kiss another man before. Apparently it was common outside of Mercy's hometown, but it was strictly against his religion. He liked it though, it made him feel comforted and somewhat safe. Perhaps being the Prince's slave would be a good thing?
As Dimitri cleaned Mercy, a knock at the door came again. Grant appeared once more, presenting a fine silver tray. On the tray was fruit, cakes and sandwiches. He snorted at the sight of the slave being cleaned by the Prince, but dared not to question it. He set the tray on the small table, and bowed low, leaving the room again.

"Oh get over it." Dimitri said to the door as he shot a glare where Grant had just been. "You know, I really wish I could get away from this kind of life. I just..."
He trailed off, biting his lip as he finished washing Mercy. He couldn't remember how many times he had been scolded or yelled at for always running away, or for not acting like a prince should. He couldn't help it though, there was just something about this lifestyle that just rubbed him the wrong way.
"Anyways," He said as he set the rag aside, "why don't we eat? Go ahead and choose anything you may like.

Mercy checked Dimitri, making sure he had heard him correctly. He made for the fruit, grabbing the biggest apple in the bowl. He bit down and relished the juicy sweet taste. He hadn't eaten anything but stale bread since he was made a slave. He enjoyed eating the apple, washing it down with the pure iced water that was also there. He burped loudly, only to excuse himself and blush. He helped himself to a cake, but then stopped. The Prince had not eaten anything yet and also, a boy like him shouldn't go around eating sweets. That was for girls.
"Thank you, I'm full," he lied, ignoring his empty stomach with growled dimly.

Dimitri smiled as he picked up one of the sandwiches and thought to himself, 'I wonder how well they fed the people they enslave. It can't be very well with how they treat them.'
He pushed the cake towards the other boy as he swallowed his bite, "Help yourself. I don't really like sweets so if you don't eat it it will just go to waste."
This was a bit of a lie, Dimitri have a very big sweet tooth, but when he saw the other try to reach for it he figured Mercy would enjoy it more. Dimitri smiled again as he took another bite of his sandwich.

Mercy glanced around, as if searching for anyone that would tell him off. He guiltily took a bite from the cake, enjoying the sweetness. "I haven't eaten cakes in a long time... My father had said that..." he trailed off and swallowed painfully. Thinking of his parents still hurt. He continued eating the cake in silence, watching the purple haired boy eat his sandwich. He was a handsome Prince, nothing like his father.