Author Note: Here is the last chapter of the story. I know all of you are wondering what exactly is going to happen. Well I can assure you all there will be a sequel, when exactly it will be out I'm not sure of yet. I'm going to work on some of my other stories right now. But there will be one, so look for it sometime in the future! And I know all of you are wondering why it's under fantasy. Well one reason was because of it taking place in another world, but in the next book there will be more magic and everything. So, until then I hope you all enjoy this chapter!
Special Thanks: Bloodfeeder thanks for everything! I couldn't have done any of this with out you!
Disclaimer: All characters are property of me.
Warning(s): Male x Male, strong language, strong explicit sexual themes, graphic violence
"How is Giselle?" Eben asked, lying on his stomach with his head tilted to the side. It had been a week since Sebastian had been taken away and each night had become a reoccurring nightmare.
Rune pulled the bandages away from Eben's back, attentively looking down at the wounds that littered the expanse of skin. He took a jar filled with a cold ointment and unscrewed the lid. He tipped his fingers in and pulled out a palm full of the salve, spreading it across the healing wounds to help mollify the soreness. As soon as he finished spreading the cream, he wiped his hands and said, "Still adjusting. She came in yesterday with the first shipment of workers from Saint Gabriel."
Eben nodded his head weakly and whispered, "I wish I could see her." He had been trapped in the small room since Mortimer had whipped him unconscious. Mortimer had him put in a spare servant's quarter that night. The only reason his wounds were dressed was because of Rune, who had taken the liberty to seek him out and tend to him.
"I'll see if she can sneak in sometime tonight." Rune mumbled, concentrating on placing the new bandages over the wounds.
"Thanks… for everything." Eben said softly, straining his neck to look at the other. Rune nudged his head, turning Eben's head back to the side and into a comfortable position.
"Don't mention it." Rune said as he lowered Eben shirt. "Now, Mortimer is preparing to have a party tonight in order to celebrate his achievements." His voice was dripping with disgust and bitterness.
"Party?" Eben whispered weakly, back instantly stiffening. He winced at the movement and buried his face in his arms to hide the fear that was evident on his visage.
"Yes…" Rune said softly, "He told me he wanted you to come."
"Rune… I can't. It's bad every night he's called for me. My wounds keep reopening because of him." Eben pleaded. He knew Rune wouldn't be able to stop it, but he didn't know what else to do.
"I know, Eben…" Rune said, "I'm sorry. My hands are tied right now, but I'll figure something out."
Eben nodded his head and pushed himself up, buttoning back up his shirt. Rune put the lid on the jar and pitched the old bandages in a nearby wastebasket. As he walked to the door, he looked back to the boy and said, "I'll be back tonight to get you for him. Eben, don't fight him like you did Sir Everest. Mortimer doesn't care if he kills you."
Eben felt his face pale. Slowly, he nodded his head, his heart thudding in his chest as the door closed. He lay back down on the bed, attempting to will himself to sleep. He knew that he should rest; because there was no way he was going to get any sleep tonight.
An abrupt knock to the door woke him. He hadn't even realized he had actually drifted off to sleep. The door cracked open and a familiar pair of blue eyes peeked at him. Giselle pushed the door open completely and stepped in, a smile weakly spread across his face. "Eben." She whispered breathlessly.
"Giselle!" Eben pushed himself up.
"How are you doing?" Giselle asked, taking a seat next to him on the small twin bed. Eben gave her a blank look that spoke volumes for the typhoon of emotions he felt.
Giselle gave a weak sigh and nodded her head. "Right. Well… I um," she paused, her cheeks turning a dull pink, "I came to get you. Mortimer is requesting you." She grimaced as she spoke his name.
"What time is it?" Eben asked, rubbing at his eyes. Was it really time for the party?
"Late. Eben… um, look," Giselle said gently, "be careful tonight. All right? This man, he's evil. He's nothing like Sir Everest."
Eben smiled sadly and whispered, "That's what Rune said too…"
Tears pricked his eyes but he quickly sucked them down. He couldn't cry. He had to be strong. He nodded his head and said gently, "No one can be Sebastian. Don't worry, I'll be careful."
Giselle nodded her head and stood. "All right… well, I guess we should go. Mortimer found the clothes that Sebastian used to make you wear and he wants you to put them on."
Eben grimaced, remembering the barely-there concubine outfits that Sebastian had forced him in when he first arrived. Those days seemed so long ago; a fading memory. Eben followed Giselle out to his old room, quickly changing into a pink outfit with gold netting over it. He combed out his hair, attempting to stall as long as possible. He didn't want to go down there. He didn't want to see that man.
"Are you ready?" Giselle asked, her voice filled with hesitance.
"Alright, well, let's go."
They walked down to the familiar ballroom, a table set up in the middle, covered in dirty dishes and pieces of half-eaten food. They had already devoured their feast, now they craved entertainment. Candles were lit around the room, casting it in a golden glow and causing the metallic netting over Eben's gossamer clothes to sparkle like jewels. A band had been brought in and set up in the corner and servants were carrying large jugs of wine around the room, filling the glasses of the men that had come to celebrate. The room was packed full of men Eben had never seen before. They ranged from portly and disgusting to well-toned and menacing. Set in the middle of them, draped in fine silks and bathed in the golden hue of the candles, was Mortimer.
"Ah!" He called out, cheeks rosy with wine, "The boy has arrived! Come here little pig!"
Eben grimaced and looked to Giselle who gave him a sympathetic look. Silently, she mouthed that she would be back later before backing out of the room before Mortimer would yell at her. Eben swallowed a lump in his throat and slowly approached the man, his stomach plummeting deeper and deeper with each step.
"You called for me?" Eben asked, unable to say master.
Mortimer narrowed his eyes at the lack of proper acknowledgement and said curtly, "Yes, slave. My guests wish to see you dance." He clapped his hands, the band instantly starting to play.
Eben stood his ground, gritting his teeth. "I can't dance. My back is still healing." The bandages were evident from where the clothing didn't cover. Any strenuous movement and he would reopen the wounds.
"I don't care," Mortimer said, voice dropping into a low tone, "Dance or I will whip you again."
"No." Eben said, the attention of Mortimer's guests drawing towards him.
Mortimer smirked, eyes flicking around the room briefly. He settled his hardened gaze on Eben and shot his hand out, gripping the boy's jaw in a bruising grip. "Dance whore, or I will make you dance."
Eben swallowed, his eyes briefly fluttering closed. He had to listen to Rune and Giselle. He had to be careful and not push Mortimer too far. He knew they were right, if he overstepped his bounds, Mortimer would dispose of him as quickly as he would a broken plate. Nodding his head, Eben submitted to the request.
Eben didn't know exactly what Mortimer wanted him to dance; he had never been good at those kinds of things. He let his hips roll to the beat of the music though, praying that they would be satisfied by his clumsy movements. His arms rose in the air as his hips rotated in rhythmic circles, guided by the heavy beats of the band. The cords of a violin mixed with the soft whistles of a flute filled the room with a joyful beat that didn't suit Eben's current mood at all.
A few hands brushed against him as he moved, gliding across the room with unsure steps. The men were growing anxious, their eyes hungry for more then just the sways of Eben's body.
"Take off your shirt!" Cried a fair haired man from the crowd, his grin lecherous and his eyes bleary from wine. He held out his goblet for a mousy servant to fill, sloshing the burgundy liquid across his shirt as he drew the cup back.
"Yes, little pig, take off your shirt." Mortimer laughed, enjoying the attention his pet was receiving. He was a man who liked to be bathed in attention, and right now he was the center of it for bringing such a treat to the party.
Eben stopped moving, staring at him. He shook his head, cold fear rushing through his veins as if carried out an artic breeze. He knew where things would go if the first article of clothing was to go. He shook his head no and backed from the crowd.
Mortimer narrowed his eyes and ordered again, "Take off your shirt."
Mortimer growled, his features scrunching into a murderous glare. He quickly softened them though and said with a devilish grin, "Fine. It'll be much more fun to strip you anyways. Men! Have you ever played 'catch the greased pig'?"
There was a synchronized no let out from the crowd. Eben's mouth became dry as he backed his way towards the exit. He looked around the room for Rune or anyone to swoop in and save him but he knew he wouldn't find them. He didn't blame them; they were in as much danger as he was.
"Well, it's quite fun. Strip the pig and grease him up. First person to catch him gets the first ride." Mortimer drawled out, voice dripping with poison.
"You monster. You fucking monster." Eben whispered, horror dawning on him.
"GREASE!" Mortimer yelled in answer to Eben's cursing. Two servants carrying jugs of wine jumped, splashing some across the floor, and quickly scurried off to fetch a tub of grease.
"Grab him, men. We've got to grease him up." Mortimer ordered, setting his glass of wine down.
Eben spun on his heels and made a mad dash for the door. He made it only a few feet before a strong hand clamped around him and pulled him back. He let out a scream, throwing his body forward to fight against the strong arm around him. He was pulled down though and slammed into the floor, the delicate pink material he wore tearing off his body. He stared wide-eyed as a servant, who with terrified eyes of themselves brought a tub of lard out.
He was held down on his back, which shot splinters of pain through his body, and covered from head to toe in lard. Hands fondled his weeping cock as he lay there helplessly before being flipped and covered along his back side. His buttock was given a firm smack before he was let go. He made another run for it, praying he could make it to the door.
"Get 'em boys!" Mortimer laughed.
He was being chased like an animal around the ball room. He made a dash for the door but quickly spun around when a gigantic man stepped in front of it. Eben felt a hand grab him, but it quickly slipped off from the lard greased on his body. His wounds burned and his body screamed at him to stop, but he kept running around, looking for a way out. He made a dash for the kitchen, but backtracked again when someone stepped in front of it.
"Come here, piggy!" Mortimer yelled. The men were everywhere, lunging and grabbing, their hands slipping from Eben's body.
Eben cut across the center of the ballroom, hitting the spilt wine that had been splashed across the floor. One leg kicked up and his arms flailed to gain balance as he fell backwards. He slammed onto his wounds, causing him to let out a painful scream. He rolled onto his hands and knees and began crawling across the floor, trying to stumble back to his feet.
"Got you!" Mortimer growled out, grabbing his ankles and digging his nails in. Eben hit his stomach as he was dragged backwards into the man's arms. Eben squirmed, but no matter which way he twisted he couldn't seem to manage to get out.
"Now you're mine." Mortimer hissed into his ear, "And I'll make you regret ever defying me."
A unified applause was released as Mortimer caught Eben. The boy let out a weak cry, limbs becoming limp as Mortimer tightened his hold. The man let go briefly, grabbing Eben instead by the hair. "On your hands and knees."
Eben shook his head, body trembling. Mortimer gave his head a jerk and snapped, "On your hands and knees!"
Eben let out a weak cry and obeyed, climbing back onto his hands and knees. The music had stopped and only the heavy pants of the crowd filled the room. Eben looked up, searching for one sympathetic eye. All he was met with was hunger.
He heard the rustling of clothing and he knew what was about to come. He squeezed his eyes shut and attempted to brace himself, but nothing could prepare him for the other man. Mortimer slammed into him without warning, his surprising hefty girth tearing Eben from the inside. Eben let out a pained scream, collapsing onto his elbows with his butt propped in the air.
"Oh Gods! Get out! Please!" Eben yelled, his vision watering. He quickly bit back another scream, bile rising in his throat at the laughter he heard.
"What was that little pig? Did you have something to say? Why don't you oink for us, you fat pig!" Mortimer ordered. Eben shook his head, barely able to control the sobs that were building.
Mortimer pulled at the fabric of some of Eben's wound dressings, pressing his thumbs into the lashings. Eben let out another blood curdling scream, cowing back from the man. "I said oink, pig!" Mortimer hissed.
Eben's heart exploded as he felt the fingers dig into his wounds. Unable to take the pain, he began to let out sharp squeals, sobbing out, "Oink, oink, oink!"
The humiliation and pain pressed down on Eben, anchoring him to the floor. As soon as the piggy squeals began Mortimer started thrusting into the boy, forcing his large size in and out of the boy's tight entrance. His thrusts were fast and wild, though short lived as the man ejaculated quickly. As soon as he pulled out, though, he asked, "Anyone else want a try?"
Eben felt his world shatter as the next man forced his way in. In one night, Mortimer had achieved what Sebastian had strived for months to do; he broke Eben, tearing his spirit away and crushing it into the dirt.
Sebastian walked through the damp stone halls of the prison; his eyes bloodshot and his hair tangled. The look trip to the prison had been hell, but he knew the true misery wouldn't start until he was sealed behind the door of his cell. The guards leading him through the complex maze of halls shoved him forward, ordering, "Move faster!"
All he could think about was how he would get out of the hellhole. He knew it would be hard, and almost impossible, but he had to try. He had to get back to Eben.
After ten minutes of walking they reached the back of one of the halls. The guard opened the solid steel door, snapping, "Get in traitor!"
Sebastian shot him a cold glare. He stepped into the dank room, stiffening his back as the door slammed with a loud clank and locked. Wind rushed around him, cold and suffocating. The room wasn't large, barely able to fit one person. There were two makeshift beds set up on either side and a metal bowl in one corner for waste. One window was high up on the back wall, facing out to the sierra that surrounded the Mizer Prison. Blades of light filtered into the center of the room, casting the rest in heavy shadows that draped over the corners like a thick blanket.
Sebastian slouched his shoulders and walked to one of the beds, collapsing on it as he realized the severity of his situation. How could he escape?
"Damn it!" Sebastian yelled, slamming his fists down on the bed. "Damn Mortimer!"
He would kill the man for betraying them. Now, more then ever, he knew he had to do something about the prince. But first, he would get his lover back and make Mortimer beg for mercy.
"I'll get you, you sick fuck." Sebastian growled, glaring into the obscure gloom.
His shoulders shook with suppressed rage. He gripped at the feeble blanket left on the soiled mattress, tearing at the frayed strands. "I'll fucking get you." Sebastian hissed.
The air in the room shifted, the wind growing colder as the shadows seemed to increase. Sebastian looked to the northwest corner, narrowing his eyes to look through the darkness. A pair of green eyes, that seemed so familiar, blinked at him. They were a vibrant shade, like emeralds polished to perfection. They blinked gently in the darkness, holding no malice or threat in them.
Suddenly, a voice like the chiming of bells, said, "Maybe I can be of some help."
Well, I hope everyone enjoyed it. Any wtfs? Any? Well all will be revealed in the sequel. So hold on until then. Thank you so much for all those that reviewed. Your support and opinions helped me create this story. You guys don't realize how much I appreciate them. When I read a review I instantly feel better during a bad day. Writing is my life and when I hear that somebody enjoys what I write it reall makes me feel good. So thank you so much and please read the sequel when it comes out! Until then, check out my other stories! :) Thanks so much!