A/N: Ok, so guess what? A new ship has entered my armada for fanfiction! So just enjoy the story and review. That would be very much appreciated!

A/N: A new chapter for this story will come out every Sunday. Enjoy!

Prologue: Winter Song

My winter lasted year round. My winter song lasted all night every night. It was filled with a verse of sadness, a Pre-chorus of abuse, and the Chorus of pure torture. Sometimes I would be lucky enough to have a bridge of loneliness, but that was so very rare. But no matter what happened, when the song was over, I wanted my life to be over as well.

The old, wooden door creaked open, waking me up. Dim lights shined through the open crack in the door. I squinted for a second, because I hadn't seen the light in days. My last few nights only consisted of the bridge.

My stomach rumbled because I had not eaten either. A very familiar man showed himself in the partially open door way. I pulled my knees to my chest, ready for the worst. It always was the worst when he came.

"Get up, boy," the gruff voice he owned, said. I quickly got up to do as he said. If I didn't do his command in a time range of two seconds, he would… do things to me… that I'd rather not think about. The chains bound around my waist, wrists, and ankles clinked together when I sat up.

These chains were the only things I wore, since no one ever bothered to give me clothes. I had gotten used to the humiliation of standing in front of him, unclothed, but I still felt embarrassed when he stared at me when I was so… vulnerable.

When I was fully standing, the man I am forced to call 'King', came into my dark isolating completely, and closed the door behind him.

For a few seconds, the room was entirely pitch black, until he lit the inside of a lantern on fire. The room was now dim lit. I stared at him, as he walked around the room, inspecting if I did anything. I was always confused with how he thought I could do anything while being chained less than two inches to a cold wall, but I could never question him about it for many reasons.

After he was done with his inspection, he turned his attention to me. "Lukas…" he said, with a deep growl. I hated it when he said my name. For a full eighteen years – my whole life – I have had to put up with him saying my name through hatred and no love.

No wonder why I was emotionless. The only emotion I had been introduced to was anger and hatred, and I refuse to use those. He walked closer to me, where I could smell the alcohol on his breath.

I hated it when he was drunk. My torture was always worse than usual when he was intoxicated. It was more than just ten cuts up and down my arms and legs. It was more than a few hours of pure hell. It was the pain I go through almost everyday times five thousand.

I felt like his pet. A pet that was chained to the wall just to torture. I guess that really was what I was. That was the only reason why I was alive. I have never known anything else. My earliest memory was being thrown in here, and chained to the wall.

I was waiting for him to say something else to me. I was not allowed to speak ever. Not to him – not to myself. I have no idea what I sound like, actually. I guess I sound like the voice in my head… but I am not sure.

For once, I was happy that he continued speaking, "Lukas, do you want to get out of here?" he said grabbing a dagger from his pocket. I gulped, ready for him to stab me or brutally mutilate me. He held his dagger to the side, and said, "Now don't you dare speak, boy."

I was confused on what I was supposed to do. Not the speaking part, but the answer. Should I say yes or no? If I say or… nod, 'no', then he is going to find some way to make me regret it. I don't want to even think about what he would do if I nodded, 'yes'.

I went with my best chance, and shook my head, negatively. He smiled, and scratched his gray beard. He then started to do something that always horrified me, and laughed. When he laughed, it wasn't out of joy; it was out of anger.

Before I knew it, - even though it was expected – he was running the tip of his knife into my hip, and pulling it down to the bottom of my thigh. I wanted to scream, but if I did that, he would cut my tongue off – or so he threatened - . I only shook, and cried silently.

"I love it when you cry," he whispered in my ear, as he pulled the dagger out of my thigh, "It is so funny to see such an emotionless face producing tears." His beard started to tickle my ear, as he pressed his lips against my cheek.

I shuttered at the touch, but let it happen for my own sake. I then felt his hands wrap around my bloody waist and move down to just above my butt. This was one of the moments where I felt so vulnerable and weak.

My wrists were chained together over my head, my ankles were chained together to the ground, and my back was chained to the wall. What could I do? I wasn't allowed to speak, or fight back. I was basically this man's torture toy. I hated my life and I hated myself.

He started to move his lips down to my neck, but then abruptly stopped. I looked down at him to see what he was doing. He quickly pulled away, and said, "You distracted me from what I came here to say. You always were a slut."

He then slapped me with the back of his hand, causing me to have a raging headache after turning back his way. On the bright side, I did manage not to scream or show any pain in his previous action.

"I came here to tell you that after eighteen years of torturing you, things are starting to get boring," he said, getting down to business, "I want to make you a deal. The deal is, you go to Denmark for two weeks, pretending to be my son, also known as Prince Emil of Norway. There is a prince who is celebrating his soon to be reign of Denmark. You have to gain enough trust from him to bring him back here, so I can kill him myself. If you do not do the following under the dead line time of two weeks, I will kill him anyway and lock you back up in this dungeon, and open you up to the public. You got that?"

I nodded my head, nonchalantly. I was actually pretty excited for this chance to leave this hell hole, but I had a thought that this would end badly for me either way. "Any questions?" he practically yelled, putting his dagger back into his belt. I shook my head.

Of course I had questions, but I wasn't allowed to talk. "Good," he continued, "You will be leaving tomorrow night when everyone is asleep. I will have clothes and a ship waiting for you."

I didn't say anything. I just stood there and stared at him. Tomorrow night? How should I even act like this 'Prince Emil of Norway' if I never even met him? Well… I guess the Prince of Denmark never met him either if I am being sent to go meet him.

As I was thinking, I didn't even notice the 'King' get up and leave. He blew out the fire and left me in my room of total darkness.

I wasn't surprised that I didn't notice him sneak out. I usually never did, because I was always thinking about what I would do to escape this life. Now I had a chance, and I was going to do anything to succeed at my mission.

I repeated what I had to do to be free.

Pretend to by a Prince Emil of Norway when in Denmark

Become great friends with the prince.

Earn his trust – bring him back here with me

Be free

This seemed easy enough. I better not screw it up. I slowly slid down the wall of my cold, lonely, and dark room of isolation. I barely noticed the injury that was stinging on the side of my leg, and lower waist. That pain was being filled with my thoughts about the ending of the song.

This was the first time my winter song ended, and I didn't feel like dying. I felt like maybe I was going to be able to start a new song. A new winter song filled with happiness and freedom.

Was I getting my first real taste of hope?

A/N: So that was the prologue! The chapters are going to come out every Sunday, but since this prologue was so short, I might update it on Wednesday or sooner. Just review how you like it so far, and if you actually want me to continue this!

Thanks ~

NORWEGIANPILOT17