A/N: You know, there IS in fact a plot coming up somewhere in the near future. Right now I'm just kind of hinting at things to come and getting the character development down! Otherwise known as rambling () My sweatdrop btw. . .

Chapter 5: Hostile Winds

Lucian looked around the room he had been led to as he stepped out of the large bronze tub they had brought him to bathe in. He gripped the side as not to slip, and took the towel from the hook that was nearby, shivering as he wrapped it around himself. Not even the blazing fireplace could warm the chill that lingered in this long forgotten room. The walls were almost bare now, only a portrait of the late Queen Demintia and her husband the late king Paefier remained over the fireplace. The windows for the room were painted in brilliant colors, thick glass that cast a rainbow of light to fall into the room from the opposite the door. He'd tried to open one for fresh air earlier, only to find that they were not made to be opened. Who on earth could live without the fresh air? He wondered as he dried his pale skin. Most of the bruises and marks remained, and he winced as he touched many of them. King Kane was by no means gentle, not in any shape or form of the word. The marks on his hips and thighs from the well-manicured nails still stung when the water had touched them. And that wasn't saying a thing to how sore he was in other places. . . The thought brought heat to the Prince's face and he covered his cheeks with his hands.

Wrapping the towel around his waist, the dark haired teen wandered over to the large wardrobe that stood at the opposite corner of the fireplace. Besides that, there was a vanity, and a lush four-poster bed with rich satin sheets, lined with some kind of fur. Swallowing as he touched the metal handles, carved in the likeness of peacock heads he opened it slowly. The multi-colored light of the room caught the material of the dresses, making some of them glow with an almost eerie light. Lucian's soft emerald eyes widened as he reached out to run his fingers over the soft threads of a dress as green as his eyes.

"Do you like them?" A rich voice announced behind him, and the teen yelped in surprise as he turned swiftly to face the intruder. Kane stood not ten feet from where Lucian was standing, an amused smirk on his tanned face. Covering his mouth, the Prince stuttered a response,

"Th-they're pretty. . ." He said softly.

"Would you like to wear one?" The King mocked. Lucian gave him an indignant look.

"What! No!" His face burned brightly. Kane moved to the shorter teen and grabbed his shoulder and turned him around towards the wardrobe, taking Lucian's hand in his and brushing the dress again.

"But why not? I think you'd look good in it."

"Kane, I mean Master, stop this!" The black-haired boy pleaded, his heart quickening at the simple touch of Kane's hand on his, and the more powerful man's chest on his bare back. Kane only chuckled in reply.

"I was kidding when I told you to call me Master."

Lucian didn't know what to say for a moment, as his hand slowly clenched the dress. "K-Kane. . ." he began, swallowing and steeling himself for the courage to finish. "Do you think. . .that if I was a woman. . .You would have taken responsibility for. . .for stealing my virginity? Would you have married me?"

"Hmmm. . .I wonder." Icy blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and Lucian caught his breath, then widened his own as Kane snatched the dress from the closet. "Why don't we pretend?" he asked with a wide and lecherous smile. Lucian took a few steps back,

"Kane, no! Stop—Kane!" his pleas were in vain as the stronger teen shoved the dress over his head. His towel came unwrapped and fell to the floor as he struggled with the taller blond, shouting his protest as his hair was snagged by one of the hooks. Kane's laughter echoed off the walls of the hallow room as he spun the prince around to snatch the laces, cutting off the Prince's last protest by jerking them tight. "K-Kane. . .!" he gasped. He was spun again, to face the mirror on the back of the wardrobe. Another flush rose to his cheeks. He looked like just what he was: a boy in a dress. A especially beautiful boy in a dress. The dress accented his thin waist—a trait he had inherited from his mother who was known for her legendary beauty, and fell to his pale ankles, but it had much room in the chest.

"Well, my mother –was- a rather endowed woman. . ." Kane said as if reading Lucian's mind. His smile was so amused that the Prince wanted to smack him, the real first violent thought he had had for the King since he had been kidnapped by him a few days ago. "It looks wonderful on you. It's the color of your eyes. ." The tan teen said then, his tone so admiring that the pale boy hid his face in his hands.

"Stop it, please." He said softly.

"I mean it." Warm breath in his ear, followed by a wet tongue. Lucian yelped, but he was unallowed to move away as the hands turned him by the waist and then seized his wrists. Kane pulled him back towards the bed, kissing him and distracting the Prince so that he nearly stumbled over the discarded towel in the floor. "It's cold in here. Let me warm you. . ." And Lucian was helpless in the King's arms, whimpering his protest as he was laid back on the bed. They kissed deeply, messily as the dark-haired prince wrapped his arms around Kane's strong neck, his fingers splaying over the well-shaped shoulders. The dark-haired teen jumped when he felt his childhood friend's hand lifting his skirt, the skin of his palm damp.

"N-No, Kane this is wrong! Y-Your mother's bed! A-And her dress!" Lucian pleaded desperately, his hands moving to shove fruitlessly at Kane's chest. Kane only laughed,

"So what?" he said carelessly, his hand raising higher. Lucian seized the tanned wrist in his hand, shoving to no avail. He gasped when he felt the hand touch his already half-hard member, flushing with shame for being even that far along. He could feel the hairs rising on the back of his neck as if the dead queen breathed her curse onto him for defiling her room in such a way. Tears rose to his eyes, but he leaned his head to the side as Kane placed a slow kiss on his neck. "Mmm, I wonder what Jullian would think of you now?" Kane had to ask. Lucian's body stiffened, and he sank his nails into Kane's shoulder and wrist respectively.

"Don't speak of him—please don't speak his name or I will die from the inside out." He said quite seriously. "Do what you will with me, and I'm not going to deny that I want it. . ." he took a shuddering breath, silver streams slipping down his pale cheeks. "but Kane. . . never speak his name during this. . ." he finished with a near sob. The hand his wrist was holding untangled, and he yelped when Kane's slick fingers slid into his body unexpectedly. When had he had the time to oil them? Lucian's eyes shot to the bath on impulse, taking notice of the spilled bottle of the bath oils he'd used to fragrance his skin. Kane was a stealthy one, indeed. He moaned, tilting his head back as the King moved his fingers in an experienced manor, moving his hips into the hand involuntarily. Kane's mouth found his neck again, and he hissed as he felt the stinging sensation as the tanned warrior sucked at his neck. So he did enjoy it. So he took pleasure in these sinful acts they partook of, and though he was still heavily against where they were doing them, and what he was doing them in, he couldn't deny the shudder that shook his body, couldn't deny the fire that raced through the blood in his veins. He'd desired Kane for longer than he could remember, the taller, darker, stronger man that had stolen his heart at first sight. He had never told his brother, because Jullian seemed to hate Kane for one reason or another. Not to mention the fact that his father would have impaled him at the palace gates, son or no son. To have feelings for another man was a sin against the Goddess as his family saw it.

He wanted to die. He felt that he would. But he just kept gasping, writhing, and moaning under his rough lover's skillful hands. When the King entered him, his mind went blank in moment of pure rapture. There was no pain this time, only the wonderful feeling of being filled completely. He wrapped his legs around the tanned teen's waist as Kane thrust into him with his usual brutal pace, but after the first two times, this was nothing. The first time there had been no preparation or warning, the second had been weakly prepared and just as dry. This time there had been oil, and careful preparation. He felt the King's hand on his neglected member and he moved his hips into the touch, his eyes going shut tight when the movement caused Kane's hardness inside of him to hit something that made him blind with the shock of pleasure, made his body quiver. "Ayah. . .Kane. . .!" he cried, clutching at the clothed shoulders, his nails digging in. "Hah, han!" His mouth was covered by the older boy's in the rough mockery of a true lover's kiss, and he welcomed whatever he could take. It was over all too soon, Lucian's body going rigid before he released, spilling his seed with much mortification into the inside of the expensive dress. Kane came soon afterwards, groaning deep in his chest. As he did, he mumbled something that Lucian's pleasure-drunk mind just barely caught the hint of.

"Wh. . .What did you say?" He asked, his blood running cold as if ice water had been thrown upon its fire.

"I said nothing." Kane said shortly, standing and walking to snatch the towel, stooping to pick it up and swiftly cleaning himself.

"You said my brother's name. . . I heard you Kane!" he fumed, standing. He fought to ignore the juices leaking down his thighs, his face flushed with unbearable shame and anger. "You said 'Jullian'!"

"You imagine things." Kane said with a cold, calm smile. But Lucian would not be detoured. He stalked up to Kane, pointing his finger in the taller man's face.

"You called his name, Kane! That's… That's all I am to you, isn't it?! I am my brother's substitute. . ." He felt the tears, even though he fought to keep them contained.

"Shut up."

"You wish it was Jullian here and not me! You wish—"

"Shut. Up."

"You just want to fuck my brother!" he shrieked. Kane's palm landed squarely on Lucian's cheek, throwing the boy off balance so that he caught himself on the edge of the tub. The King grabbed the back of his hair, shoving his face close to the water as he pressed his body against him so that the bronze edge of the tub bruised his hips. "Aauugh!" he grunted in protest.

"So you're not my first choice!" Kane shouted with a fury that made the hair on the back of Lucian's neck stand on end again. "But when presented with this piece of tempting meat, how can a starving wolf refuse?" He growled, grabbing one of the ample mounds of Lucian's backside hard enough to leave imprints of his fingers.

"So I am just scraps!? You are no wolf, you are a jackal!" Lucian shouted in fear and anger. Water filled his nostrils as his head was shoved under the water, and he struggled to no avail to break the hold Kane had on his air. His head was lifted, and he took a painful gasp of air. "-Kane-, you're –hurting- me! Let go, please! You're scaring me!" he pleaded, in tears now. The hold released all at once, and he fell into a ball at the King's feet. He trembled, wrapping his arms around himself tightly. The taste in his mouth made him want to gag, the oils from the bath mixed with the dirt and blood that he had washed away.

Kane glared down at him, he could feel it without looking up, and it chilled his blood even further. Then his King spoke, "You imagined it. I said you weren't my –first- choice, but you're close. Besides, whoever is my first choice has yet to come to light, so you insult me heedlessly. Learn to use your mind before you speak, or I will never look at you again." He said in a harsh voice.

"No, please. . ." Lucian sobbed into his hands. "I'm sorry, I was mistaken." He whimpered. Kane turned on his heel and headed for the door.

"I'll have servants bring fresh bathwater. There's clothes on the bedside table, I brought them in before I came up behind you." He said calmly. And he was gone. Lucian wiped his tears, cursing himself for every weakness he held—which were many, he figured. He stood finally, ripping the laces from the back of the dress and letting the wretched thing fall to his feet. He picked up the mass of emerald taffeta with both arms and walked to the fire, throwing the dress into the orange-red flames. The flame took to the dress as if it had been doused with oils, and he fell backwards onto the bare stone floor with a cry of surprise. He coughed at the thick black smoke that couldn't be taken all at once up the chimney, waving a hand and backing up from the fireplace. He wished now more than ever that the windows were able to open.

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His father was impatient. Impatient and stupid. Here they waited on the field for the army to gather, instead of doing the sensible thing and waiting closer to home. Nostier was but a day's ride away, and the crowned Prince of Junitas fought the urge to rush ahead of his father and the entire army to reclaim his twin. Terrible images of what was happening to Lucian racked his mind, giving him a killer migraine as he sat helpless in his tent. He didn't like the feeling of being helpless, he never had. He was supposed to protect Lucian, he'd done that very thing his whole life without much incident, and now when it was most important, he'd failed. As angry as he was, at least he knew how to compose himself and act like the King he was to be, unlike his despicable father. Lucian was his –son-, but King Ptah treated him like an expendable asset. If they went after the Kovian's now, Lucian would surely be killed.

Was this all petty revenge for what Jullian had done to Kane four years ago? It wasn't even his fault! Any brother worth his blood bond would have defended the weaker of his family, as he had done when Kane had 'accidentally' cut Lucian on the neck that day. Accident! A slip of the hand, a misjudgment in training! What bull's shit! Kane was a warrior born, like Jullian himself. Warrior's did not make mistakes so dire. Just a little further and he would have seriously endangered his beloved twin's life! Never had Lucian done anything to provoke the older boy's anger. But Jullian felt he knew the real reason for the attack. It was a direct challenge to Jullian. He'd seen it in the taller boy's eyes when the dagger drawn his brother's blood. Kane was a man to be handled swiftly, and violently. Nothing else would suffice. A shame, that Talion hadn't been placed in charge instead of Kane. No, Paefier had always disliked his weaker son, just as Ptah had always hated Lucian.

Both of them stupid brutal Kings with nothing more than domination in their heads. Jullian knew that he was indeed better suited for the throne, for Lucian shied away from any confrontation at all, and sometimes a kingdom must be defended. His brother had spent his days locked up in his room or the library, perhaps even their mother's old room. Anywhere that Ptah would not easily come across. His temper was short, and it was irrational. Just this morning he'd woken to find his chamber pot unchanged, and had thrown it in his poor servants face when the boy had awoken late. Jullian hated sloth as much as any noble, but he also knew that there were other punishments much more refined. He would have laid a few lashes on the boy's thighs and let the matter be. While the prince at his 'tender' age of sixteen was respected more than he was feared, his father had become a tyrant in the last few years. The council had pampered him after his victory over the rebellious Kovians, giving him land as well as the people that came with it. He wondered if his father still knew how to hold a sword properly, or if he would have a servant doing that for him as well on the battle field. With an amused laugh, Jullian laid himself back on the fur covered cot that laid against the center wall of his spacious tent.

There was still the matter of assassination to overcome. His father had to be killed before the army gathered the men it needed to begin the assault on Nostier. His blindly loyal and trusted servant Jadeau was taking it upon himself to find the best methods. While his father was a competent general of Ptah's army, his mother had been a former serving girl, adept in the ways of gossip. The prince had always thought gossip to be an annoying womanly trait until he had learned of all the secret scandals that such serving women often knew. With the help of lose tongue's, Jadeau would be able to find a suitable method of killing the King, he was sure. It was not uncommon for people to be interested in the stories of secret grudges and underhanded killing. The women that had accompanied the army knew well of the commoner-turned-noble Leila's son, and would hold nothing back from him. It was almost fitting, for a man so egotistical to die by the method of a woman's gossip, told unknowingly to one who would use it.

It was becoming nightfall, and the prince's stomach growled as he lay there, bored and awaiting Jadeau's return with food and news—gossip, he snickered. He was just about to drift off when he felt the short blast of air that signaled someone's entrance. He sat up, ready to scold his servant but his breath caught in his throat. Jadeau was shoved to the ground roughly, evicting a short cry from the youth. He caught himself with his hands and sat back on his knees, his free sandy hair falling to hide his face. His shirt had been torn in the back, and bloody welts showed clearly on his slightly tanned skin. He sniffed in an effort to contain his tears, but it was obvious that the squire was in pain.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Jullian asked, standing tall and glaring at the soldier that had shoved his servant into the tent.

"This 'un was picked up chattering amongst the women." The man remarked gruffly. Jullian raised an eyebrow, his glare becoming murderous.

"A trait he picked up from his common mother. Is it a crime now?" he asked, accusingly.

"He was asking about scandals and how nobles disposed of unwanted rivals." Came the cool reply.

"For this he was whipped?! You think that he wants a rival killed? He is squire to the crowned prince! What higher position could he want? Besides, I hear it is most a familiar topic amongst the women of the court and service. They hear it in their secret lovers' beds and spill it to the first available ear. My servant is guilty of nothing but womanly curiosity. Tell me the reason he was disciplined –now- else I will bring this to my father's attention!" He demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.

"This has already been brought to your father the King's attention!" The soldier shot back, almost taking the prince off balance. "Who else do you think would order the crowned prince's squire whipped?" He smirked, and Jullian fumed. "Keep a tighter leash on your pup, least his flapping tongue be lost. So says His Majesty, King Ptah." He finished with a bow. The prince accepted this stoically and waited for the man to leave before he came forward, assessing the damage to his loyal servant's back. It wasn't all that bad; it would not hinder his daily tasks or his training, but it had been done to be painful, a warning.

"I'm. . .So sorry," Jadeau sobbed, hiding his face in his hands now. He had failed his beloved prince, and in his mind the lashing had been the less painful thing next to Jullian's disappointment. The black-haired teen took up a stance in front of his kneeling servant, arms still crossed over his chest.

"You should be! What on the goddess's sweet earth possessed you to be so nosey! You deserve every lash they gave you, and more from me! You're just lucky I don't do just that, this very instant! Honestly, Jadeau, I am supposed to trust you? The serving women have such loose tongues, you should have taken more care with your personal interest." He said cruelly, loudly, much to the sandy haired youth's shame. Jadeau sobbed loudly then, his shoulders shaking in earnest misery. The prince let this continue for a few moments longer until he heard the ever-so-faint footsteps falling away from the side of the tent. He kneeled quickly, taking Jadeau's shoulders in his hands and pulling the other close, his lips next to the younger boy's ear. His voice was so low that the other had trouble catching everything he said, but his tone was unmistakable. "Really, sweet Jadeau, how on earth did you manage to get caught so soon? Oh hush my trusted friend, I am not angry with you. Show words, they had someone listening outside my tent. Now, loyal one, tell me what you've said." He said slowly, his tone questioning, though it held the foreshadowing of a threat.

"N-not a word, my prince!" The boy said quite loudly, and Jullian was forced to place a hand over his mouth.

"Quietly, my dear." He reminded. He let go when his servant nodded slightly, his sobs lessening.

"I t-told them n-nothing." He said again, shuddering with pain and relief that his cherished Jullian was not angry with him for his failure. "T-they asked, b-but I s-said I was j-just listening to them t-talk. T-they tried to. . .make me confess, b-but I wouldn't say a word!" He promised heatedly. He smiled at his prince's cleverness then, at scolding him loudly for the King's messenger to hear. Let him take the fall, if he had to, as long as Jullian came out of it a King then he would die happily.

"Good. Now come and let me get you cleaned up, away from the walls where we can be heard and you can tell me what you've learned." Jullian said softly, pulling the slightly shorter boy to stand with him. Jadeau was rather tall for his young age of thirteen, though his body still retained the long-limbed slenderness of youth. His face was childish, almost cherubic, sprinkled as it was with light brown freckles. Tears streaked the slightly dirty cheeks of his servant, marring the innocence slightly. The blond allowed himself to be led into the center of the tent, where they were separated by several walls of skins from the outside. A large basin of water waited, and they both sat on stools beside it, Jullian moving behind Jadeau who was removing what was left of his shirt. The prince dampened a cloth and dabbed at the bleeding welts first, his servant giving only quiet whimpers of protest.

"Poison, late-night assailants, accidental stabs or arrows. . .The list is as long as any method of death imaginable, M'lord. All of them are risky or just plain impossible." Jadeau said in a low, pained voice.

"But we must find one. Perhaps we can use another enemy, or someone expendable." The prince said at length.

"I would gladly die for you, M'lord." Jadeau whispered, his breath shuddering. Jullian paused in what he was doing and regarded his servant and squire for a moment, shocked by this outburst. He shook his head slowly.

"Jadeau, my sweet Jadeau. I trust you with my life, my secrets. . .I do not wish for you to die for me, not for any cause. You are much more valuable to be alive." He told him, leaning forward to kiss one pink welt that was not bleeding. His servant gasped, shuddering at the pain and pleasure that the simple action brought him. Jullian shook his head again, all too knowingly, behind his servant's back. "All I ask for is your life in my service. That you serve my in any way I may ask of you, no matter the task. Your undying loyalty is what I would have."

"You have it." Jadeau murmured, fresh tears finding new paths down his dirty cheeks. "Forever you have it, M'lord, I would do anything under the sun for you, just name it. All you need do is ask. . ." he trailed off, his voice trembling. Jullian cleaned the rest of the wounds silently and carefully, and had Jadeau wash his tear streaked face before they both dressed for bed. Another servant appeared with Jullian's meal, and he split it with Jadeau, despite his servant's protests. As the prince gazed down at the lithe sleeping form of his most trusted friend, he sighed sadly.

"I know, Jadeau. . .I know." He whispered. In his mind he saw his brother again, sleeping in much the same way as the younger teen was, and he closed his eyes tightly. "But you know me better than any other, and so you know. . ." He sighed, turning to face his own cold and empty bed. "But I am not blind, nor am I intentionally cruel to you. Please, continue to understand me." He said softly as he lay down, fighting the chill of the night with thoughts of the only one that held first place in his heart.

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Talion rushed through the halls with great haste, nearly colliding with the gathered servants and guards on the way. The smoke stung his eyes and burned his lungs, only adding to his worry. "Move aside you idiots!" He shouted, opening enough of a pathway so that he could reach the room. Several servants with cloths tied over their mouths and noses were fumbling around the room with paper fans, a few of them were scraping at the remains of whatever was in the fireplace. He spotted his target across the room, huddled in the corner with only a thick satin fur-lined sheet wrapped around his slender form.

"Highness, you shouldn't be in here!" A servant protested, taking hold of Talion's sleeve. He waved the worried girl away and moved towards the black-haired teen. "Highness, please! At least wear a mask!" She protested again, but gave up when it went unheeded. The blond kneeled in front of the other in the corner, placing his hand on his shoulder.

"Lucian. . .What's all this?" he asked softly. The younger prince looked up slowly, black soot smeared across his face.

"The dress. . .The fire. . .I'm sorry, Talion. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, it just. . .I just. . ." Emerald eyes watered, and tears traced pale streaks down his cheeks.

"Dress?" The blond prince asked, looking towards the fireplace. Only scraps were left, making it unrecognizable at best, but he knew it well enough. "Lucian. . .Why would you do such a thing?" He asked softly, gazing sadly at the remains of his mother's emerald taffeta dress. Lucian merely shook his head, burring it in the blanket once again, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Above the fireplace, the oil painting of his mother and father was warped slightly, making his heart fall into his stomach. Talion stood and ordered the servants to hurry their tasks, directing everything until the room was almost smoke-free. The serving girl that had spoken to him earlier tugged his sleeve before she left. "What is it, Kathy?" He asked her, wary.

"His Majesty the Lord King was in here, just before the fire. . ." She said, looking around as she spoke in a low voice. "I was coming to give Prince Lucian his lunch when I saw him leave." The girl finished, her face hopeful. Talion smiled warmly at her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Thank you, dear. Tell no one else of this, alright? That's a good girl." He sighed, ushering her out. "Fetch something from the kitchen will you good Kathy? Thank you." With that done, he turned again at face Lucian who was still huddled in the corner, though it seemed he had stopped crying at least. "I don't suppose you want to talk about it?" he asked softly. Lucian shook his head. Talion threw up his hands, sighing. "Well can you at least come over here to the bed and talk to me?" he asked, crossing his arms. Lucian was still for a moment, and then he slowly stood and made his way over to the bed, standing beside it with his eyes downcast.

"I'm sorry, Talion." He whispered again.

"Oh Lucian, hush. . .I'm not angry at you, I'm just confused. Here, put these clothes on, you look silly wrapped up in that blanket." He said suddenly, holding out the clothes that Kane had brought in earlier. Lucian took them with one hand and then paused before he dropped the blanket, blushing and looking at Talion shyly. The taller prince blushed slightly as well, turning his back. It wasn't as if he hadn't seen the boy naked before, but that was under different circumstances. Standing so near the bed, and listening to the heavy blanket hit the ground, baring his sweet Lucian's pale flesh, he had to fight to keep his head turned away, respecting his fellow prince's modesty. His brother had obviously done enough damage.

"Alright." He said softly, and the tan skinned prince turned to face him. The clothes Kane had chosen used to be his, he now realized. Black pants and a back tunic with a bright red belt, the colors of the Kovian royal family. He smiled,

"That used to be mine." He said softly, and Lucian looked flustered.

"I'm sorry. . .?"

"No, no, don't be. It looks good on you." He said, reaching out to wipe the last of the soot from the pale one's damp cheeks with his own black sleeve. "And I couldn't wear it anyway, it's to small on me now." Talion said, sitting on the bed. It really did match him well, the way his face, hands, and bare feet looked all the whiter because of the black, like his hair, but he thought that blue would be a much nicer color for the sash. He patted the space beside him and Lucian sat down. They were both silent for a moment before anyone spoke.

"I didn't mean to—"

"My mother was—"

They said at once. Both smiled, and offered the other the chance to continue, but Lucian won and Talion spoke again.

"My mother, Demintia was a kind woman. I used to hide in here with her when I didn't want my father to find me, because after the rebellion failed all he wanted was for Kane and I to train, train, train. I was never the warrior type, not like Kane is, and I preferred to read books and write poems. I know that sounds unfitting for a prince, but my mother understood, and she loved to hear me recite my poems to her and read aloud. . .She was very sad when we lost the war. Father had the windows sealed shut because he was afraid she would jump, because she spent to much time starring out of them. She just loved the fresh air as much as I do, she just wanted to feel it on her face." He stopped, his voice catching in his throat, and Lucian watched him closely. Tan fists clenched at his thighs as he continued. "It was my father's fault. He pushed her and pushed her, locked her up and ignored her when she began to get sick. It was me. . .It was me that found her, laying in front of that fireplace, laying in her own blood. She'd used a letter opener to do it. The physicians said it must have taken her a long time to cut her wrists that deeply with something so dull. I was furious, I blamed father for everything and the only thing that kept me from being locked up just the same as her was that my brother spoke for me. He was cruel. He told my father that I didn't know any better than that. I was a scholar and a strategist, and my bond with my mother was foolish but there was nothing they could do now. He said I'd grow out of it. Though look at me now. I never did." He smiled, almost triumphantly. "Maybe I did it just to spite him. I read every book I could get my hands on, and I became the best map-reader and strategist in this country. What I'm trying to say, Lucian, is that my mother was a kind and encouraging woman. Whatever reason you did this, I am sure that she would understand, and would never dream of blaming you." He finished with a heartfelt smile, placing his hand over Lucian's.

The raven-haired prince had begun to cry again, silently. He was smiling as well, and he threw his arms around Talion's neck, hugging him tightly. The older prince returned the hug just as tightly, burring his face into Lucian's sweet smelling hair. The smell of smoke clung to their clothes, but neither minded, chalking it up as the remnant of the ashes that they'd just swept away from each other. "Thank you Talion. . .Thank you so much." Lucian whispered.

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Later that evening, high on the East tower of Nostier, Kane waited for his brother to arrive. He'd requested to meet with him at sunset, and the sun was already half hidden behind the mountains in the west. The trap door finally opened, his younger twin climbing the last of the stairs and then closing it behind him with a loud thump. Kane crossed his arms,

"Brother, I really don't have time for this with the Junitians so close to Nostier and all, couldn't you—"

"This cannot wait, Kane!" Talion shouted his fists clenched at his sides.

"You dare. Pray, tell me what all this is about Talion, so that I can eat my dinner in peace." The taller of the two glared.

"You know very well."

"What, Lucian? Are you still fawning over that poor excuse for a prince?" Kane smirked, then laughed when Talion's face flushed red. "By the goddess you are! Really Talion, when are you going to grow out of these childish crushes, fit for a hopeless serving girl?" He asked, mockingly as he smiled at his twin's furious face.

"Just as soon as you outgrow yours." He growled.

"Oh? And what do you mean by that?" Kane asked, still smiling.

"You use Lucian, for your own selfish means. You use him as a substitute for his brother Jullian! Lucian is innocent, how could you do something like this! He burned mother's green dress, Kane! I don't know what you did, but you did it all for Jullian and I won't stand it any longer!" Talion fumed, daring to come up less than a foot from his stronger brother. Kane stopped smiling, narrowing his cold icy eyes instead.

"Close your nonsense spewing mouth brother, or I will not hesitate to close it for you." He threatened. Talion only smirked.

"Oh, you think that I do not know! Please! I've known ever since you attacked Lucian to earn Jullian's rage that day! It was obvious, the way you gazed at him like a man in love. You cannot have him, Kane, he is to good for you!" The smaller blond declared powerfully, a winning smile on his tan face, "He is above you, better than you! You use Lucian cruelly and are blind to what he feels!"

"Shut up! For your information Lucian is pathetically in love with me, and he wants it when I fuck him! Ha! Look at you, stricken with jealousy and spilling out fairy tails to make things better! You are a fool, little brother." Kane finished calmly, though his breath was coming a little faster. Talion shook his head in denial.

"No. No! Stop it! Jullian will come, and he will kill you! He will laugh in your love sick face as he runs you through!" he laughed, high and almost maniacally, "You'll never beat him, Kane! Never! He'll always be one step ahead of you! This is all your fault, this war, Jullian's hate, Lucian's pain! All of it is your fault!" He moved to hit his brother,

"Enough!" Kane shouted, shoving with both hands at his brother's chest. Talion fell back as expected, but he stumbled on the latch of the trap door, and he continued to fall. His hand grasped futilely at the ledge that came to the back of his thighs, the tips of his nails scratching it. They both gave a cry of shock and horror as the blond continued to fall, tumbling backwards. Kane stepped forward, his hand reaching out to late for his brother, as Talion fell head over heels over the rim of the wall. "TALIOOON!" He cried in despair. Never in his life had he felt so helpless as he watched his beloved twin's form shrinking rapidly away from his outstretched hand.

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The feeling of absolute freedom swallowed the initial terror that overcame Talion as he tumbled over the tower wall. His brother the king's face had changed from unbridled anger to a look of pure panic, but not even that rare show of emotion could away this bliss. The wind ripped at his loose clothing and tore at his hair so that he was forced to shut his eyes tightly. The current of the wind was an intense thrill like none the blond teen had ever known. If only he could forget the unstoppable force of the earth was rising up swiftly to end this trip. He couldn't even find the breath to scream.

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Kane tripped over his own feet as he raced down the stone steps of the tower, rolling for five of them before he regained his momentum to stop, scrambling to his feet and continuing down. Though his mind wasn't prepared for the sight he knew he would behold when he reached the end, his body moved on its own. He'd killed him—he'd killed his sweet tempered younger twin! It was stupid, it was careless, he'd done out of petty anger something that could never be undone. Talion's last look of shock and betrayal would not leave his mind, clouded with memories of his twin when they were but boys, careless brothers and princes.

He'd never been terribly nice to Talion, always believing, like his father, that reading books and writing poetry and the lot were weak and womanly. But he'd always looked after the weaker of the two. It was his duty, as a man and a warrior, to protect the weaker ones whether they were male or female, young or old. His brother was bonded to him through blood. He was royalty, and held all the rights that he himself did when they were young. His father was ill tempered and violent, often becoming close to abusive with his twin sons, and while Kane accepted the mistreatment stoically but Talion had cowered from it, hiding out in their mother's rooms where the sickly woman had tended to his more ungainly method of training. He couldn't deny the help that Talion had offered when he'd announced his plans to fulfill what his father had began had been priceless, nor could he deny his twin's loyalty in serving under him when he became king. Oh, how could he be so foolish?!

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When Talion felt the harsh impact on his back, for a moment he believed that he had hit the ground, but as he struggled to regain his breath he realized that he was -breathing-, and so he was alive. His body was flipped upright and jerked to a painful stop, and he felt himself sinking.

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Kane heard the murmur of excitement as he neared the end of the stairs. They were not the cries of horror and the wails of lament that he had expected to hear, but then it was dark and he doubted that anyone had seen the body before it hit. They were still in shock. The crowd parted easily enough for him, and Kane felt sick as he forced himself to walk through them, preparing for the worst. He heard it before he saw it: laughter that was slow and high-voiced, gaining in volume as he neared it. To the young king's complete shock, his brother kneeled before him on his hands and knees, laughing. "What in hell is going on?" He demanded breathlessly. The night watchman turned, as did several others to bow to the king.

"He fell—"

"But he stopped, Lord—"

"Wings!"

"He just floated to the ground!"

They all spoke at once. He waved a hand to silence them, stepping forward as his brother stood shakily. He was taken aback by the look that he received from his younger twin. Pure elation, as well as anger simmered in those usually warm sapphire eyes.

"Talion. . ."

"Stay away from me, murderer." His brother hissed, quietly, his voice low.

"No, brother, I never meant. . ."

"You did it." He said, walking by him and brushing his shoulder on the way. Kane could have sworn he felt a trail of wind follow his brother past him, like an after shock.

"What in the goddess' name happened here. . .?" He asked no one, in a low whisper.