Arin went quiet, slowly stroking Solon's chest as he fell asleep. It felt so comforting, so warm and safe in the King's arms. Arin knew now that the man tried his best to be wise and kind, and sacrificed a lot of self-pleasure in doing so. He inhaled deeply and thought in his head of new lyrics and notes to suit his song better. His thoughts followed him into his dreams.

He was home. Finally. He was so happy, tears fell from his eyes. His mother and siblings rushed to him, concerned about what had taken him so long and where his wings had gone. It didn't matter. Soon he was playing for his family, eating his mother's cooking and listening to his father's hunting stories. Just like nothing had happened.

He woke up with a smile on his face and a tear-stained cheek.

Warmth, a kind hand, it had been a long time since Solon had known these things. Falling asleep that night, into his worrisome dreams, was easier then usual. His past transgressions flowed through his sleeping mind, images of how he had come to be sitting on the throne so many years after he was supposed to, and not the throne of his original kingdom at that.

He woke with a start and a gasp, eyes open wide and unseeing. The king still lay in the past, though his body was in the present. Trapped, his mind was trapped back there as he had once been.

Arin felt the man move beneath him and looked over to his face. A strange blank stare of horror, something Arin knew all too well. When one had a bad dream and got stuck in the nightmares of their past... He reached up and lovingly stroked Solon's face, scooting up the King's body to kiss him softly on the cheek. A small touch, the loving sensation should help ease him back into the present.

Arin wondered what sort of life the King had had to make him have nightmares. Kings were supposed to grow up rich and happy.

He blinked, took a deep breath and let out a long sigh as he drifted back to reality. Odd, how simply having someone reach out could make a remarkable difference. "How was your night, Arin?" Thanking the musician was out of the question, one didn't simply thank a slave for so simple a gesture, and yet he wanted to show his appreciation in some way... One which wouldn't bring about too much talk. Arin's clothing should have been taken care of the day before, he was cleaned and all healed up. What more was there to do?

Self-defense lessons were essential, for one. After a year and a day, Solon would set Arin free as an example for others... To think of the blond falling into the hands of slavers yet again was beyond unacceptable.

"Good dreams and slept well," he replied with a sad smile, rolling off the King's chest and blushing slightly. He had kissed him, something that was only stolen from him, not willingly given. He licked his lips and looked away from Solon, feeling extremely embarrassed about a few things. He slid out of bed, making sure that he was allowed to leave by hesitating. When the King didn't say anything, he went to the other side of the large room to the bathroom that was located there.

After relieving himself and washing his hands in the marble basin, he reentered the room and sat by the fire that had gone out, waiting for more instructions and his breakfast.

Solon smiled at that, finding comfort in the fact that someone at least had slept well that night. He yawned as he stood and settled down to finish writing the letter he'd begun the day before. While he did this, and after Arin had returned, a servant entered the room with a few plates laden with a copious amount of food. She cast a curious glance at the slave before scuttling away at a look from the king.

There would be rumors today, even if there had been none the day before. "Arin, would you feel up to playing something later on today during dinner? I have a few very important guests arriving, and I'm sure they would be both soothed and delighted by your music. I certainly am." The nobles were going to clamor to gain the slave from his Majesty, but the King would hear none of it and if they tried too hard, then they had better be prepared to face his formidable wrath.

Arin sat at the small table next to the King and waited to be allowed to eat. When he was, he picked up some of the soft and delicious fruits and ate quietly. He had never been asked to play before, just commanded. He nodded with a small smile, feeling extremely happy that he was being treated so kindly. He helped himself to a few berries and relished their sweetness. He left the bitter coffee and toast for the King.

It annoyed him, how Arin always waited for permission ... As it annoyed him when everyone else did the same. Sometimes being king was far more trouble then it was worth. Shaking his head slightly, Solon lifted the ceramic cup with coffee inside. The new drink was quite the delicacy, always in demand and it helped him wake up, made him feel more alert. At least, the dark brown beverage did that for a little while.

"Someone will come fetch you when the time comes. One of the guards that you met yesterday, in fact." He stood, and hesitated before bending to press his lips against the young musician's cheek. Perhaps growing so fond of Arin already was wrong, but he couldn't seem to help it. Already he couldn't imagine spending a night alone once more, without warmth or any hope of comfort.

Arin flinched slightly out of habit at the man's kiss. He stopped himself from shivering and looked down, still feeling very uncomfortable with the tenderness Solon showed him. He nodded again to show that he had listened and got up from the table, going over to the window. He wanted to sit on the railings again, but after last night he was unsure if Solon would let him in fear that he would jump. He tried the doors to the balcony and frowned when he found them locked.

Solon glanced back over his shoulder before he left the room. "I want a guard with you if you go out on the balcony, or outside." Yesterday's incident had frightened him more then he cared for. This was absurd, and yet he did relish the quick affection growing in him for the musician.

Gods, he was so much older then the youth ... Then anyone alive really. None of them had any idea about his past, of what he'd been before the spells had been reversed. He shuddered. Never again! He nodded at his guards, indicating that one of them was supposed to stay behind with Arin, a woman this time.

Solon hated fittings for new clothing, but sometimes it was necessary to keep up appearances, and as a king he certainly needed to do that.

Arin sighed as the woman entered the room, staring at him as though she was seeing a ghost. He kept from looking at her, but tried the door again, hoping that she understood that he wanted to sit outside. She opened the door to the balcony and came out with him, stopping him from climbing up on the railings, though all he wanted to do was sit on them. He took to sitting on one of the chairs, watching the Kingdom from his perch and the birds that flew past with jealously.

Around lunchtime, after reading through a few other novels he found lying around, he picked up his violin and practised for the night, deciding to use a happy song over a sad and lonely one. The guard, who had told him her name was Fergie, listened and clapped, asking him to sing a song for her.

After the fitting was over, the king left the room behind to accompanied by chancellors and nobles. Reports filled his ears, when all Solon wanted to hear was the laughter of his children and the sweet timbre of Arin's violin. That last would be true, once the day's business had been taken care of and the supper meeting was well underway. It actually made him look forward to the gathering for once.

Reports of attacks on the outlying villages made Solon wince, both in sympathy and remembered horrors from his seldom spoken of past. "Send troops to the affected areas to train and support the people who wish to remain there. If the villagers decide otherwise, help the relocate here, here and here." He pointed to different villages, and different areas as yet untamed by any person.

Once the brief interlude was over, it was time to mingle at last with the important nobility. A few murmured words in a servant's ear, and the young man scuttled off to bring Arin to the grand dining hall, dressed appropriately of course.

Arin followed the strange man to the dining hall, the place he first met Solon and lost his cruel Master. He carried his violin nervously, hoping that his songs would please not only the King, but the King's associates. He was wearing a well-fitted suit, something that was comfortable to wear and made him seem even more beautiful. He had picked a few flowers from a vase and wore them in his hair, their scent making him calm and happy.

When he arrived to the room, he approached the tables that sat the important nobles and the King, clearing his throat and waiting for them to give him their attention. He started one of his classic songs first, and afterwards played a song about the joy of flying. He tried not to cry as he sung in his language, words that the nobles wouldn't understand. And yet, one old man was listening intently, amazement in his eyes. He leant towards the King and whispered something in Solon's ear. Arin didn't hear what was said, but the old man seemed to know something.

"Your Highness, who is this slave? He sings in an ancient language long thought to be extinct. I am a professor in this area, you know this... In the study of Angels and Demons..." the old man whispered to Solon, amazed that he had actually finally found proof that Angels could exist.

((You're on early.))

When Arin entered the room, Solon lifted his head to offer the musician a quick smile. Then he had to turn his attention to conversation again, and eating the boar meat so delicately spiced and sliced to perfection. The king finished swallowing a mouthful, then put aside his fork to offer the professor his full attention, though he seemed rather vague and uninterested. "A new acquisition, nothing more. Angels and demons? Are you still going on about that?"

Solon forced himself not to glance at Arin speculatively as he remembered the scars on the youth's back. Two long lines of puckered skin, placed precisely where wings might once have been. It would explain why Arin had wanted to sit on the balcony so. He would need to ask the young man questions later, once this evening's political dancing was done.

The king made a note to have some of his spies infiltrate the professor's home. Such a lack was unacceptable... Especially now that the man showed such a worrisome amount of interest in Arin.

Once Arin had finished and the applause ended, he was taken back up to the King's room, to wait for his Master to finish his political meetings. He yawned and curled up on the armchair by the fire, continuing to read a larger book he had started that morning. Soon his eyes itched with sleep and he found himself drifting into unconsciousness right on the chair. The book fell from his hands and his head lolled, as he started to breathe heavily and slowly.

He only awoke once Solon entered the room.

Solon waled through his sumptuous surroundings without paying them heed. The marble statues, gold leafed furniture, this was all common to him now. Even if it had not been, his thoughts were filled with the professor's words. Could it be that Arin was indeed an angel? It would explain so much....

When he entered his room, the king let fall his royal manner, as well as his outer clothing. He stood in a simple chemise and dark trousers, and put the other things away meticulously. The red gold glow of candlelight made him feel comfortable, safe and more inclined to speak his thoughts to Arin. Solon needed to know if his suspicions were indeed true.

"Are you an angel, Arin?" As he spoke, the king found a cloth and a bowl, which he filled with water. The last he placed upon an elaborately carved dresser to make it easier to dip the cloth within so he could wash at least part of the day's grime from his face.

Arin was curled up on the armchair, watching the King undress and clean up when he had asked the question. He blinked hard and blushed, becoming flustered. "An...?" he questioned, feeling sweat form on his brow. He quickly wiped it away and tilted his head, feigning ignorance. "An angel?"

Of course that's what humans called Arin's kind, some even building a religion around it. Arin knew of this and also knew the risks of admitting that angels and demons were real. Whatever would happen to his kind, his homeland if he told humans of their existence?

"An angel, yes." The king turned to face Arin, eyes holding an undecipherable emotion. If it were true ... Then Arin had been bared from his homeland forever for lack of wings, for Solon could only surmise that was why angels were only rumored to exist. "A professor mentioned them to me, and I couldn't help but think of the two very singular scars on your back." As he spoke of them, he sauntered forward and slipped a hand beneath the young man's tunic to brush his fingers over the raised skin upon Arin's back.

Arin flinched and fell out of his chair, backing away from his Master. No... He mustn't say anything. He pressed his lips shut tight and shook his head, whimpering slightly. "No... I was whipped," he lied, not looking Solon in the eyes. "I don't know what an Angel is." He shook his head again, sniffing now. He was trembling. It was so hard to lie to such a kind Master.

He knelt. "Arin, there would be more scars if you were whipped." The poor boy looked so terrified. Solon sighed, relenting. Gentle hands reached out to tug the younger man close, so that Arin's head rested tucked beneath the king's chin. He pet his hair, cooing soft words of comfort.

Solon would find out sooner or later, but it could wait. There was no need to distress Arin, when the slave was all that brought him any comfort. It had been a long day, and to add this to it all, it wasn't worth it.

Arin struggled slightly, but soon went limp, his eyes closing as he listened to the King's words and heard the man's heart beating. Being held in Solon's strong arms and rocked slightly reminded him of his father and he smiled sadly, slowly falling asleep. "Solon... You are kind," Arin said quietly, still nestled in the King's arms and becoming very calm. "Sad you have no love..." He gulped and lifted his head, breaking away from the warmth and safety of Solon's grip.

"I can give you love if you want it," he said quietly, trembling slightly at his words.

All the kind could do was stare. What exactly was the young man offering? The simple phrase could mean so many things. "What do you mean?" It was true, Solon couldn't help but feel lonely... Even so, he wanted no love given through obligation. If it was done because of that, it wouldn't be love at all.

He turned away and settled upon his bed, eyes falling on Arin once more. "If you offer simply from obligation, then I would rather you not offer at all." It wasn't that he didn't appreciate it. Solon could tell it had taken much for little Arin to speak up as he had. "Either way, I do thank you. It was very kind of you, Arin." A shadow of a smile tugged up the king's well shaped lips into a smile.

Arin sighed and steadied himself, joining the older man on his bed and crawling close to him. He wanted Solon to hold him in his arms again, to make him feel warm and safe. "I..." he had no idea what to say, so instead curled up next to the man. He rested his head on Solon's chest and closed his eyes, thinking about his homeland and his family as he often did when he was trying to fall asleep.

A flash of memory... A man... Beautiful and kind... The pain and humiliation... Arin's eyes snapped open and he cried out in shock. It had been a long time since he remembered Jonathan. He sobbed quietly, feeling as though his heart was breaking all over again.

Somehow he found himself lying down with the musician in his arms. Solon could feel fatigue finally dragging him into the land of dreams, but just when reality had begun to disappear, a sharp cry ripped him back. Arms tightening around the youth protectively, Solon shifted so he could meet Arin's eyes. "Shh shh, it's alright, my little songbird. You're here safe and sound." He knew the type of dreams which could make you claw yourself awake at night, they were nightmares really.

But Arin helped to chase them away by just being there, and Solon was helpless to do the same for the youth. His songbird ... It seemed the king was growing fonder of his newest charge by the hour. He couldn't help it though, there was no one else who seemed to want to look past his office, at him, the man.

Arin sniffed and wiped his eyes, letting himself be comforted by the man. He opened his mouth, on the verge of telling Solon everything, but then closed it. No, the King did not need to know about his tragic past. "Bad dream," he whispered finally, shaking his head. "That's all. Nothing but a bad dream..." He muttered the word for nightmares in his language, quickly following that up with a charm to repel them. He had never believed in such things, but his mother still whispered the charm to them every night before they slept. Sometimes it worked.