REQUEST BY TUMBLR USER cameoamalthea: I always wanted to see a slave fic, because I like power dynamic. Less BDSM more fantasy setting, like Roxas as tribute to god/or demon Axel
Note: Okay so basically Roxas lives in a Roman-esque sort of time period where the members of Organization XIII are gods, and Axel is a fallen god. It's like a mythology sort of based on the KH story. He's not Satan or anything, so sorry if I accidentally reference that or something?
CHAPTER ONE
I'm going to die here on this mountain, Roxas thought, the white fabric of his tunic slapping his skin, wet and coated with sea-salt. His wrists ached from being tied, and his face was streaked with salty tears even though he'd sworn to his family he wouldn't cry. This was supposed to be an honor, to be chosen as a tribute to the Fire Lord. His people had practiced it for centuries, sacrificing the virgin boys to please him, the Fire Lord, the One Who Speaks in Flames.
Except now he'd been chosen. The village elders had come to their home in the middle of the night, bound his wrists and ankles with a thick, itchy rope and left him on the cliff by the sea, left him there to be devoured. In the distance, he could see the heart-shaped moon glowing faintly through the clouds.
Nobody living had ever seen the Fire Lord. Only those who'd perished the way he was about to, at His mercy. There were rumors and tales, of how he was as beautiful as a fallen angel, how he'd come from the Thirteen Members of their faith and been cast aside after he rebelled, then unleashed his wrath on their city. The only way to keep peace was the sacrifices every decade or so.
Roxas closed his eyes against the relentless sea washing over him on the rocks, choking out a cry for help that echoed off the mountaintops. He was alone, tied to an enormous boulder, and he was going to die, alone.
The first rays of sun grew pink-orange on the horizon, and then the blazing orb rose high in the sky, shining merciless heat upon him. Hours had passed, and the anticipation, the suspense, was enough to kill him by itself. Before, he'd been standing, but now Roxas sat crumpled against the boulder, defeated, weak, waiting for death to come.
"You dare to disrespect your duty as sacrifice? You dare not kneel before I, the Conjurer of Flame, the One Who Speaks in Fire, He Who Burns All?"
Roxas trembled like an infant, raising his face slowly in the direction of the voice. It was a beautiful voice, like that which one has lost on the shores of dream, and the Fire Lord spoke but his lips did not move, and Roxas heard the echoes of snapping embers in his mind, felt a tickle of heat at the nape of his neck that traveled along his shoulders and down the length of his spine. The Fiery One was standing not a yard from where he sat captive, cloaked in a dark robe with a hood shading his eyes.
"I said kneel!" He cried, and Roxas scrambled to kneel before him.
"That's better. Now, what's your name, my pet?"
"R-Roxas..." he stammered, trying to avoid the gaze boring into him.
The Fire Lord stepped closer, the swish of his cloak such a small sound, yet still audible over the crash of the waves around them.
"Roxas..." he repeated the name slowly, like he was tasting a savory dish. "Why do your people continue this tradition so? Ah, well, I suppose fear reigns supreme in many cases. You want to ask me what I mean, but you're afraid to speak, aren't you? Don't fear, my pet. I'm going to tell you a secret."
Roxas watched in fearful awe as the fallen god standing before him knelt just in front of him and removed his hood, revealing his features. He was the most beautiful man ever seen, with hair the color of flames and eyes the color of polished emeralds. Secret? he wondered, but dared not voice his curiosity. The Fire Lord would speak as he chose.
"Your citizens have offered me a total of sixty-seven sacrifices in the past seven centuries. I killed some. Fourteen, to be exact. That was in my time of rage. After I'd been cast aside by the one you call Mighty, the weakling who dared toy with hearts, the First of the Thirteen. I despised the Thirteen, and I was disgusted by humanity's ignorance. I craved flesh, and blood, and I could only be pleased by sacrifice. But I grew bored, mortal. Bored. Things changed. The generations who began the tradition of sacrifice have all become nothing more than ghosts, wisps of memory, bones in the earth decayed to nothing. My rage was quenched easily, and the Thirteen fell from power eventually, for the most part."
He circled Roxas, running his slender fingers along the boulder and leaving a trail of sparks where his hands touched. Roxas' blue eyes watered with terror, his breath came in ragged gasps. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He stood once again, though still bound, and glared at the Fiery One with no shame. "Don't toy with me! Why do you tell me this? It is no business of mine, no business of mortals! Dare you disrespect my honor as a man, the honor of my family, by delaying the sacrifice I have been offered as?!" Yes, his pride, his patriotism, gave him the strength to stare into the emerald eyes of a fallen god with defiance. His heart thundered in his chest and he waited to be struck down, praying that death would be quick.
The Fire Lord laughed.
"Don't you see, mortal boy, Roxas? I'm telling you, you're not going to die at my hand. You are going to live beyond this day, that I swear upon. I have released the past fifty-three sacrifices like yourself, and they return to the world, venture to a new city, form a new identity, and live on. As shall you."
"I... I don't understand, Fiery One..." Roxas said quietly, his face wrought with pain and confusion.
"My true name is Axel, and you address me as such."
"Axel..."
"Even if I were to accept sacrifices, you would be unsuited. What would your family, your elders think, if they knew the reason you're a virgin? Not as pure as they imagined you to be?"
"I have never had the flesh of a woman -!"
"Ah, ah, ah," Axel waved a finger as one might to a naughty child. "Don't spit your half-truths at me, boy. I know the flesh you have lusted after. I see all that happens in your city."
Roxas stared at him defiantly. He wanted to protest, but the Fire Lord knew the truth. He had no reason to be ashamed, not here, in this moment of mortal and all-seeing.
"Though you entertain me so, I am going to release you, Roxas, son of warrior Sora. Your city will shame you if you return, so I'd advise you to seek life somewhere else from this day forward."
"N-No! No, you can't! I have nowhere else to go, please, Fiery One, devour me as I deserve, if I have failed my city then I have failed myself!" he begged, tugging at the ropes that were starting to rub his skin raw.
"I will not kill you."
"Then take me as your own! I only wish to serve and die a noble man. Though against my will, I came here to please a god, and that is what I'll do." He regretted the words almost instantly, knowing he was speaking out of fear.
Axel snapped his fingers and the ropes dissolved to ash, freeing him. Roxas fell to his knees, ribs quaking as he struggled for breath. He stared up at the immortal in front of him through his straw-colored hair and waited.
"Very well then. You have made your choice. But know this, man, one as powerful as myself only holds slaves in a life contract. Do you accept this fate?"
He nodded grimly.
Axel grabbed Roxas by the arm roughly and raised him to his feet, pressing their lips together in a warm kiss. "Then the contract is sealed."
He was taken to Axel's chambers - a palace encrusted with countless rubies consisting of architecture beyond even Greek and Roman beauty. It was high on a mountaintop deep in the lands where man dared not to travel, surrounded by silence.
Roxas was kept in a small room with a simple but elegant bed which had sheer curtains draped around it and velvet pillows adorning the head. The room had no doors, and only one plain window. He was hesitant to sleep, but finally exhaustion overcame him, and he slept, his mind full of terrors he imagined the Fire Lord would make a slave endure.
He came for him on the second night, appearing from the darkness itself with a burst of shadows.
Roxas was jolted into wakefulness by a sudden heat on his cheeks, only to find Axel was standing over him with a harsh smile, brilliant green eyes meeting his the moment he awoke.
"What do you want?"
"I am your master and you shall address me as so."
"What do you want, master Axel?"
"Undress."
"What?"
"Do you not perform to my command?"
Hesitantly, Roxas sat up and removed his tunic, then lying exposed on the cool bedsheets. His face grew red and he tried to cover himself, but Axel gently moved his hand away.
"You possess a fire in you I have not seen for many, many years. You have pride, and strength, and for the first time in eons, I find myself controlled by desire."
He kissed Roxas' lips, then his chest, then each of his ribs individually. Each kiss felt like the warmth of a fire on a long winter's night on Roxas' skin, and he closed his eyes slowly, trying not to feel ashamed of the pleasure.
"Do not fear," Axel reassured him, kissing his lips again. "Embrace me."
Overcome with the urge to serve, the urge to please, to bring fire to those emerald eyes, Roxas wrapped his arms around the red-haired man and watched with reverence as he removed his black cloak. The body of a god, the form of perfection, the figure of worship, held him close and stroked his hair, leaving warmth wherever he touched.
"Are you afraid of me, mortal?" Axel whispered, curling his lips into a mischievous cat-like grin.
Instead of answer, Roxas kissed his chest delicately, then stroked his cheek with trembling fingers. Never before had he so strongly felt desire such as this.
Suddenly, Axel rose from the bed, smiling, and began to don his cloak again. "I will not corrupt you tonight, Roxas," he said quietly, looking slightly sad. "It is unfair of me to use my powers when you are most vulnerable. Our desire should be shared, not forced. I have learned this much in my centuries of wisdom." And with that, he disappeared in a mass of shadows, leaving Roxas alone once again.
The moment he was gone, Roxas felt cold and sickly. Ashamed. Embarrassed. He hadn't really wanted to embrace him, had he? No, the Fire Lord had been using tricks and magic to implant the idea into his mind, plant the seed of desire and grow it for his satisfaction. He curled up in the blankets and buried his face in a velvet pillow, feeling violated and forsaken.
The Fiery Lord did not visit for many nights afterwards, but he left him gifts and trinkets on the bedside table, which he awoke to find every morning. Usually it was gemstones, but occasionally Roxas would wake to find a new tunic, or sandals, or rare foods. He was only removed from his room when it was mealtime, as it became his duty to prepare and serve Axel's meals. Being raised by a family of mostly bakers and farmers, Roxas knew his way around food. Each night, Axel was pleased with supper, and insisted Roxas join him for the meal. At first, they spoke little while eating, with Axel just watching his every move silently. But after a while, Axel began to speak more, to share his stories and tales, revealing his heart to Roxas.
Once, there had been the mighty Thirteen, the holy, the ones who harnessed hearts and souls and gained strength through purity, the ones who restored balance to the great Kingdom Hearts where lost hearts gathered, the ones who protected and loved humanity because love gave them power once a heart had lived its life.
But the most powerful of the Thirteen grew dark, and there was corruption among them. A battle ensued, one long forgotten by humans but still recalled by the gods and demigods and fairy-folk that walked the Earth. Several of the Thirteen were destroyed in Oblivion. Axel and a few others had rebelled from the original Thirteen and fallen after the war, existing in solitude ever since and living off of hearts offered in prayer.
Axel mentioned his loneliness a lot. Often, he made comments such as "Nice to have company around this empty place", and "You grace me with your presence, you do," and "For once it is not the sound of my own footsteps and voice I hear echoing these halls." Immortal or not, Axel was a man who longed for company and interaction, bored of centuries alone where all he came across only met him with fear. Roxas treated him politely, at first only because he had to, but soon it was by choice. The two of them made fine companions.
One night, months after first sealing their contract, he returned to Roxas' chambers with the sound of popping flames, and he sat up in bed groggily, looking around to see Axel standing beside the bed.
"Do you forgive me, mortal?"
"Forgive you, master?"
"For using my powers to create false desire, the second night after I brought you to this place. You were angry with me, were you not? Are you still?"
Roxas shook his head slowly. "Even gods have a time of weakness. But I have been living with you for many months now, and at mealtimes you have shared your heart with me. I know now that you are lonely, and your intentions are pure. I believe from what you have told me that you are as beautiful of a soul within as you appear on the outside." He spoke with truth, and dignity, and his eyes cleared of sleepiness as the words left his mouth.
"Oh, fool..." Axel sat upon the bed beside Roxas' legs, and even through the blanket the blond could feel the warmth his powers gave off.
"You call me fool, master?"
The Fire Lord shook his head slowly. "You say you have seen my heart. You are wrong. Though me and my former peers survive on the power of hearts, we ourselves do not have hearts. This is why we need hearts to survive, you see. Without the borrowed strength from hearts given in prayer and sacrifice, I would disappear. For all of my existence, I have felt hollow, and never have I heard the sound of a heartbeat within my own ribcage. And never will I still. But you..."
He crawled onto the bed now, one leg on each side of Roxas' hips. He leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on his lips, then whispered, "You make me feel like I could have a heart. Your purity, your passion, your kindness, is so strong. You have the strongest heart I have ever encountered in my endless days. This is why I admire you, Roxas. You make me feel alive, you make me feel whole. You're a beautiful man, Roxas, and I can only beg you to be mine."
"I do as you wish, you know that."
"This is a decision I leave for you to make, Roxas. I will not corrupt you, I will not force myself upon you, I will not project my lust and desire into your mind as before. No spells, no trickery. I ask you, now, would such a strong man as yourself ever forgive me for what I have done, and take someone as weak as myself?"
"You're far from weak," Roxas insisted, sitting up and holding Axel's face in his hands. "You are mighty, you are a god, and you are beautiful. My heart is yours if only you will treasure it."
They kissed then, passionately, in the moonlight filtering in through the single window. Soon, they were both undressed, and this time, Roxas' longing was his own. He held Axel close, hands wandering over hot skin. It didn't matter if Axel was God, or Man, or Nobody. He was flame, and shadows, and power, and Roxas was his.
SOOOO there will definitely be a second chapter of this, if not more. I hope you enjoy! Thank you to my readers and thank you tumblr user cameoamalthea for your unique request that inspired this fic :)