-1Title : Unchain my heart

Rating : G

Pairing : none

Summary : A minstrel of demonic descent and chained in a dungeon sings the tale of his life.

AN : Guess who, what, where and when .

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Chained in the darkest and furthest place of the dungeons, the minstrel could not move form his uncomfortable posture against the cold stone wall. He had not been there that long yet -- what were mere days for a demon ? -- but be it the rare people who came through the door or the guards behind it, everyone ignored him. No one spoke with him and he had begun to sink in a deep melancholy.

He had his quirks and would not vouch he was completely sane but he spoke to himself or sang to avoid becoming madder still, composing new tales or remembering old ones.

Today he was in a particularly sombre mood and had chosen to rearrange one of his old ballads, from his early days, and continue it to include his current situation.

His voice came up, slightly rusty at first, so he stopped and he started again. Soon his deep voice was resounding against the stony walls as he sang.

He sang with old turns of phrases, which according to him sounded much better than the modern renditions.

Once there was a king, true, noble and young

His tongue was as swift as his arm was strong

He sang about his old friend and suzerain, and how close they had been until he left, never to return, letting the old echoes of camaraderie seep in his voice.

He sang of past battles and heroic deeds, and let show how he missed wielding maryoku, sighing at the end of one particular sentence about it… He could have use for some right now… if only he could summon the wind and disappear with it, freeing himself… but in his current incapacitated state, it was impossible.

He sang about his years in exile, in a foreign country, of the hot burn of rejection and homesickness.

He sang about his new friend then, a new king who had brought him back home and understood him. The new king had listened to him, spent time with him and if the times had been different, the spirit of camaraderie had been the same… how he missed it.

Now he added new verses, of his new friend's departure, hopeless to return. He had been left without a glance or a word after going through fire for him and saving his life, but it was not what he was bitter about. He told how he had be surrounded in chains and literally dragged back to this dark place.

He mourned then the loss of his Maous and ended his song.

How he wished for fresh air again…

… really it was a hard life, that of a demonic sword.