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Faith

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The ground was hard, and damp. There was something covering him, but it wasn't enough to fight off the perpetual chill of the surroundings. Tangled ringlets of red hair blew ever so slightly as the locks covering his face were stirred by his shallow breath. Eyes opened slowly, but he couldn't see a thing except for the small bit of light that came in through the slot at the bottom of the door. This floor... He swallowed, but his throat was dry and rough. His fingers twitched, closing slowly to form a weak fist. That faded, flickering light... He never thought he'd end up here again...

Closing sun sunset eyes, Yurae rolled onto his back with a slight groan. It seemed he'd been out for quite a while. Sleeping on stone was rough enough, but he felt as if he hadn't moved for about a day. Raising one hand he moved to sweep the bangs from his face, but instead he hissed in pain. Coddling the injured fingers against his chest as he winced, he remembered his two missing nails. Tears welled behind his eyelids, stinging his eyes. Why...? Why was he here again, after so many years? He was having trouble remembering things. As if... Ah, that was it. They had used water again. Down here, he had no way of telling how long that he had been out.

The last thing that he could clearly remember was a sunny day... Fahdi, Junas, and Muhadi were all studying hard with him. It was so warm, and they'd sought the welcoming shade under the gazebo. He could still feel the weight of the leather-bound book in his lap, its pages dry and brittle with age. It had been a gift from the man who would have been their teacher, before Mahdi had decided on Yurae to teach his sons. The birds were chirping loudly, and servants voices were rising and falling as they passed by. The youngest prince, Muhadi, his hair was soft as down feathers as he had mussed it with his fingers. Fahdi had gotten an answer correct, but his words were a little mixed up. Junas had gotten excited over something, and gotten the other two riled up. Such good boys... Dry lips creased into a smile before he could help himself.

It was the perfect setup for their eldest brother. Ashani had come under the shade, but it seemed as if he somehow brought the sunlight with him. He couldn't even chastise the boy when he began to tease his brothers. Somehow, that boy had become his weakness. Even thinking of his grinning face and green eyes... His fingers moved to his lips before he knew what he was doing, and he placed two of them against them. Was he... forgetting something? Come to think of it, he had dreamed... No, it couldn't have been a dream. He lowered his hand to feel the object that he was laying on, half covering him. Clothing... A robe? It wasn't his. He doubted that the guards had been so kind as to lend it to him. But it wasn't Mahdi's. “Don't tell me...” He whispered, eyes open in the darkness.

The sound of the heavy lock being undone jolted Yurae out of his reverie. He sat up quickly, raising a hand to protect his eyes from the sudden invasion of light. There was a large silhouette in the doorway, one that he did not recognize. “Who...” He asked in a horse voice, but the man spoke up.

“So this is the sidhe, huh?” He asked in a gruff tone. The torch was placed into the holder near the entryway, and he stepped inside. Yurae lowered his hand, blinking his still adjusting eyes. The man wasn't too tall, about his height in fact. He looked a bit more toned, though. A typical palace guard probably. His simple uniform was a bit dirty, and his face was unshaven, his hair unkempt. The redhead couldn't help but curl his lip slightly as he covered the lower half of his body with the robe, hiding it from the dirty man's view. “Oh, don't be like that. I brought you food, see?” The man held forth a small tray. On it was a piece of bread, a few slices of fruit, and a small cup of wine. The sidhe licked his lips unconsciously, his stomach betraying its immediate desires.

“Th... thank you.” Yurae said quietly, lifting his hands. The man smirked, stepping a little closer.

“Uh-uh... Come and get it.” He said, and his eyes shifted as if he was a bit uneasy. Yurae rose an eyebrow, not moving for a moment.

“...Please.” He said in the same quiet tone. The guard swallowed, and the redhead could see that he was sweating slightly as he took another step forward. “I'm not going to do anything.” He offered.

“I know that!” The guard was angry, and he held the tray back to his side. “I'm not afraid of someone like you! I'm not!” He huffed, and Yurae found himself irritated, but he kept it to himself.

“Alright, alright. Forgive me, I misspoke. Now please, would you give me something to eat?” Yurae tried again, leaning forward a little as he reached out.

“Ah... Yeah, I guess. But, uh, the guys... I mean, Ward and them.. They said... you might give me something, you know? For the food...” His stuttering gave away his nervousness, yet the man had already shown himself to be a timid tiger. Yurae felt an ice-cold knot settle deep within the pit of his stomach, and he fought not to let the grimace of disgust reach his face. His hands lowered slowly, righteous heat rising to his face. “A favor, you know? They said you'd be real grateful—”

“Yes!” Yurae whispered harshly, eyes burning. His fists were closed at his sides, but he kept them hidden. The man smiled like an idiot, setting the tray down. “The food first.” Yurae protested, but the man shook his head, stepping closer as he began to unbutton the shirt of his white uniform.

“No way. You gotta work for your food.” The man said, his hazel eyes running over the redhead's nearly bare form brazenly. His hands moved his his pants, belt jingling as he began to undo it. Yurae's body tensed all over, his eyes moving from the tray of food and back to the guard swiftly. Bracing himself and closing his eyes as he took in a deep breath... He smiled as he opened them.

“Alright...” He said smoothly, running his undamaged fingers through his hair. He tossed aside the robe, standing slowly. The mans eyes sparkled with blatant desire as he licked his lips, his hands pausing momentarily on his pants. “Have you ever been with a man?” Yurae asked quietly, one hand running up along the outside of his own pale thigh.

“Ah... no.” The guard said, as if remembering his earlier timidness. Yurae chuckled, drawing closer. “But they said a sidhe was a lay I wouldn't forget, so I asked them to let me bring it to you. Ha, I guess they were right. You'll do anything.” He smirked. Yurae's smile widened, and he brushed the side of the other's face with his soft hand.

“That's right...” He murmured softly as his other hand moved to the man's shoulder. “We are definitely a lay you'll never forget...” His face drew closer, lips almost brushing. “However...” Just as the man bent in to make contact with the kiss, he grunted in pain as a knee slammed into his groin. “We'd never touch sickening humans like you!” Yurae cried out with his horse voice, and he pulled back to make a fist. Before the guard could react, it connected to the side of his face, sending him sprawling out onto the floor. The redhead shook his sore hand, glaring down at the man.

“Nguh, y-you... bitch! How dare you!” The man shouted, holding himself in pain as he rolled on the floor.

“No, how dare you!” Yurae shot back, trembling with anger. “I am an effendi! A teacher! I reside in the East wing now! I am... I am above the likes of you!” He dropped to his knees, seizing the man's shirt and pulling back his fist for another strike.

“Just what is this?” A deep, rough voice stilled his actions all at once. Sunset eyes drifted up along a tall and rugged body to meet with dark ones. His hair was an ashen gray, slicked back perfectly into place. The scar at his temple receded back into his hairline a good two inches, and no hair grew there. It traveled down onto his cheek, almost to his chin, dimpled and rippled with scar-tissue. He knew that face well enough, and the scar that was made from the blood of his kind. Swallowing hard, he released the guard.

“You.” He said in a strained voice as he backed off from the still groaning man.

“Sir Goud!” The guard exclaimed, sitting up as he winced. “He attacked me!” He pointed his finger accusingly.

“He tried to accost me! It was Ward that said—!” The redhead protested, but he was cut off two more men appeared at the gray-haired man's side, and he recognized them as well. Hands pressed flat to the smooth, cold wall behind him.

“I said what?” Ward asked, smirking as the three men entered the room.

“That's right, Yurae. What did Ward say? Or maybe Kilhid would like to tell us?” Goud glanced to the man on the ground, who was standing with the help of the wall. He rubbed the corner of his mouth, finding blood there. Spitting to the side, he glared at Yurae.

“He said the bitch would let me fuck him for the food.” His eyes shifted over to the tray on the floor. Just as he moved for it, Yurae moved forward as well. The fire sidhe's arm was caught in an iron grip, and he cried out as he hit the wall with enough force to knock the breath from his lungs. He saw bright lights as the back of his head hit as well, dizzying him for a moment. He opened his eyes in time to see the guard, the man that they had called Kilhid, slam his filthy boot down onto the tray. Wine splattered everywhere, the fruit spilling onto the ground as the bread was crumbled to pieces.

“No...!” He whimpered, turning his angered and anguished expression back to Goud. “Goud, why are you...!?”

“He didn't lie, Kilhid.” Goud spoke up, stunning Yurae into silence. Ward and Thyms chuckled.

“That's right. I didn't lie. He used to do it all the time.” Ward came closer as Goud seized the redhead's wrists, pulling them above his head. Yurae twisted in the grasp, jaw clenched tightly as he glared back at them.

“That's not—!”

“Oh, it's true.” Ward assured, smirking as he stood to one side of his superior. Goud nodded, bringing his knee up between the writhing redhead's toned, naked thighs.

“Stop—!” Yurae gasped as he began to press painfully hard with it, fingers curling into fists as his eyes nearly closed.

“This little bitch used to be the community whore, after his Majesty was done with him.” Goud continued, drawing his face close to the grimacing redhead's. Yurae closed his eyes as the elite guards laughed, feeling tears sting them once again. “Anyone who came down here was allowed to have a piece. Now see, he used to be trained. He'd drop down to his filthy knees and suck you off at a single command. But lately... He's gotten uppity.” He jerked his knee, and Yurae cried out shrilly in pain.

“He 'as, hasn't he?” Thyms asked, scratching his chin as if in thought. Kilhid was wallowing in the shadow of his superiors, like a vulture that was itching for scraps.

“S-stop it, you three! I-I'm an effendi! You have no right to—!” Yurae's voice was beginning to shake, something that the three seasoned soldiers picked up on in an instant.

“An effendi you say? Did you hear that, boys?” Goud asked, glancing to Ward, and then to Thyms.

“Ah, I heard it.” Thyms said, nodding.

“He doesn't know.” Ward agreed, crossing his arms.

“K-know what?” Yurae's eyes widened as he watched Goud's face, that sinking feeling returning to the pit of his stomach. Goud sighed,

“It was a formal decree this morning. Right after his Majesty came out of the meeting with the Magicians, he said this: Yurae effendi is hereby stripped of his rank of teacher and consort, as a person of interest in the deaths of two royal guards. The is effective immediately, and will remain until his innocence is proven, or he confesses his guilt.” The gray-haired man finished, tilting his head as he gave his knee a light bounce.

“Ngh—No, he wouldn't—!” Yurae felt like shouting, but all that he could manage was a groan as he spoke in a pained voice. Mahdi had really said all that? It wasn't possible...! Tears broke the damn that had been holding them back, slipping down his cheeks in hot torrents. After all these years... He's almost forgotten about all of this, left those painful memories for the rare nigh terrors that plagued his sleep now and then. “...Mahdi...Hgn!” He grunted as the knee jerked again, pressing painfully against his groin.

“That's Sire and Master to you, sidhe devil!” Goud reminded. He smirked then, his expression turning mischievous. “Now, Kilhid? I believe you were promised a lay you'd never forget...” The guard perked up behind his superior, his smile returning. Yurae closed his eyes, retreating into a place inside of himself that he had not visited for years... It was only there that he could even properly lament for this sudden turn of events.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Ashani's eyelids fluttered, but he couldn't seem to open them. The taste in his mouth was bitter and dry, and his stomach was twisted in knots. Rolling over onto his side, he rubbed his temples slowly. “What in hell...” He muttered, even his mouth moving sluggishly to form words. Sitting up he was assaulted by a wave of dizziness, causing him to grab the sides of his head. His room was much too bright, a sign that the sun was already high in the sky. Just how long had he been asleep? He couldn't remember going to bed, only changing into his robe, and then... The drink! Opening his bloodshot eyes slowly, he lifted the half-filled cup to his nose. He curled it as he smelled the rotten scent that filled his nostrils, setting it down with a dry heave. That bastard Goud had gone and drugged him! His eyelids still felt heavy, but he shook his head. There were too many things to do to just waste time sleeping! No way was that bitter old man going to keep him from finding out the truth! And besides, he had to see Yurae and tell him about Pendi.

Standing uneasily, he hobbled over to the water basin. It had been filled that morning as usual it seemed, as the water was fresh and clear. Grabbing a hold of the sides of it, he shoved his face under the lukewarm surface, pulling back only when he needed to gasp for air. Rivers of water ran down his face and neck, dripping from the locks of his unruly hair and soaking his robe. Running his fingers through his hair, he pulled on the cord to ring for a servant. As he waited for one to appear he made it over to his wardrobe, pulling out a pair of cream-colored pants and a long tan vest with embroidered birds of paradise on its sides and back. He finished dressing just as the servant appeared, and he sent them for bread and water—and a few other things.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It wasn't an hour later before Ashani made his way down to the dreaded dungeons again. Everything was as it had ever been there, though every time that he took this journey he felt as if his steps grew heavier. Dark, damp, and with the smell of stale water that left a metallic taste in one's mouth—not unlike the taste of blood. He was startled to hear voices as he rounded the corner to the hall in which Yurae's cell was located, his brow furrowing. Holding his torch aloft he he squinted into the darkness of the hall until he saw another light approaching.

“...my hand! I mean seriously!”

“Haha, we warned about that... don't have water... —he tea—...”

“...complaining about? You're the... went and... —lood was worse!”

“Hey, hey. Who's there?” One of them finally called clearly. Ashani recognized that voice. He steeled himself, holding the torch to his side.

“It's me, Goud.” He stated firmly, still red eyes narrow.

“I thought as much.” The old man said as they came into view. He recognized Ward and Thyms too, but there was another man he didn't know. All of them looked a bit disheveled, and there was a sickening smell about them that made his nose curl as much as the poison wine had. The unknown man was rubbing the back of his hand, which was a raw and red. The others moved past him at a wave of Goud's hand, and the older man moved to go by as well. However, he patted Ashani firmly on the shoulder. “Well lad, I tried. Either way, he's all yours now. Get it out of your system, will you?” He said with a heavy tone that the prince couldn't place. The guards retreated farther into the tunnels, leaving him alone with a slowly sinking feeling.

His steps were quicker as soon as they were out of sight, his heart beating all the way up in his throat. There was a sound from inside the cell, but everything was to dark inside for him to get a look through the bars. Opening the door, his body froze as his green eyes went wide. The scent of sweat and blood hit him like a physical blow. Yurae's sunset eyes mimicked his own in shock, and the both of them remained still for a split second. The fire sidhe rest on his hands and knees, the back of his hand still lifted to his mouth where he had been wiping his chin. There was a wet mess in front of him where he had just gotten sick—the sound he must have heard from outside the door. But what was even more shocking—and humiliating, was the state that the rest of him was in.

Dark bruises dotted his once flawless skin—his shoulders, hips, neck, arms, and even his thighs were all marked with the imprint of fingers, teeth, and even dark-red hickeys. Blood smeared his chin, still fresh from his split lips, and also the insides of his thighs. Ashani realized suddenly that his teacher was trembling, even his lower lip quivering, as his jaw was slack in shock just as was his own.

“No...!” The whisper was so quiet that it was a wonder he heard it at all. All at once the redhead shouted, a wordless and desperate cry of agony as he recoiled into the far corner of the room, just out of reach of the flame's light.

“Yurae!” Ashani cried, stepping into the room.

“Don't move! Don't take another step, Ashani!” The sidhe cried, covering his face with his hands. “Don't... don't look at me!”

“Wha.. what did they...!?” Ashani didn't finish his self explanatory question, knuckles white as he gripped the torch with all of his might. “...I'll kill them!” He growled, jaw clenched so tightly that his head began to ache. Tears burned in his tired eyes, though he didn't notice them. He also didn't notice the way that his teacher shuddered when he spoke those damning words.

“...It's none of your business, Ashani.” He muttered through his hands, his voice raspy and sore as it was. The prince nearly fell back, feeling a keen pang cross his chest like a spike sent directly into his heart.

“None of my business...!? I won't let this go, Yurae! I'll tell Father...” He stopped in shock when the redhead began to laugh. It was coarse and dry, but it lacked any humor at all. Like the laugh of those that had all but lost touch with sanity, it sent a shiver through his spine.

“You'll tell who, Little Prince? Mahdi? Hahaha... hehe...! Y-you'll tell the man... who ordered this? Ahaha... that's rich. You're still so naïve...” Yurae rambled, bowing his head as he bent over his knees, fingers tangled into his hair. Ashani's cheeks burned hotly.

“What do you...” He stopped himself again. If anyone else had said it, he might have argued it. But this was Yurae speaking to him. Even half out of his mind, he didn't think the sidhe could lie to him. “My Father...” His voice was bitter, the words bringing to mind the same taste as the drug in his mouth earlier that day. It was as if just as soon as he thought himself above the level of being cut deeper, salt was added to the wound. “I... I am not naïve!” He countered suddenly. “Even if it was my Father... Even if he condemns you... Yurae, I...!”

“Don't! Oh, don't! Please don't! Never! Never, ever, ever speak those words Ashani!” Yurae was trembling again, his own tears hot on his cheeks.

“But...”

“Those words are a curse! It is a phrase that men use to excuse even the most terrible of crimes against one another! Those words... those words ruined my life!” The redhead sobbed, looking up as Ashani took a step closer, bathing him in the light of the torch. “Don't...! Oh please, don't take another step... I can't handle it...” He pressed back against the corner of the seamless stone cell, a wounded and wild animal. When Ashani was within arms length he dropped into a kneel slowly. Yurae closed his eyes as the Prince reached out, the warmth of his fingers just ghosting over his cheek. A thumb touched his cut lip, wiping away the blood. Yurae's eyes opened swiftly, “No, you'll be...!” He stopped with a gasp as Ashani swept the blood across his own lower lip. The blood burned the flesh like pure Cinnamon, irritating it and turning it a deep red. “...Why?”

“I can't say. It would only hurt you more.” Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew the two peaches that he had carried there. Setting them down on the ground, he bowed his head. “I brought these for you... I wanted to tell you something, but now I think I'll just handle it myself. I'm sorry... that I upset you. You were right,” He shook his head, looking up again. Green eyes were filled with stinging tears that he refused to shed. “I was being naïve... But I do know one thing for sure. I will get you out of here, no matter what. I swear on my mother's soul.” He reached up to touch the pendant at his neck. “I believe in you, no matter what anyone says. So please... Believe in me, too. O-otherwise...” His cheeks turned a bit red, and he smiled. “I don't know if I can do it...” Swallowing, he stood up, turning his back to the speechless sidhe. “H-here...” He held the torch out behind him. “I know the way back... and you can use it to heal, right?”

“...” Yurae took it slowly, his fingers brushing the youth's as he slid it from his hand. Both parties shuddered at the seemingly electric jolt that passed through them, neither of them saying a word about it.

“S-see you soon...” Ashani said quickly, his feet carrying him swiftly from the room. Once he had closed the door, he leaned back against it. He could hear Yurae's sobs from inside of the cell, and his own tears overflowed in response. He sank down against the heavy door, covering his mouth to keep the sound of his own sobs from coming forth. It was a long while before quiet returned to the miserable dungeon, and before either of them was able to move again.