So, at this point, everyone knows that I was forced to remove Lemon Island and its mature content due to the Eliminator Forum vicious attacking and trolling me. I'm going to move ALL my mature stories to a new website. If you're just as sick of this as I am, please join our cause to bring freedom back to Fanfiction!

Avenger Forum link, remove spaces and *: www. fanfiction. n*e*t /forum/Avenger/119079 (All information can be found in the Supporter forum.)

The Rebellion Forum link, remove spaces and *: www. fanfiction. n*e*t /forum/The-Rebellion/114259/ (Most forums are banding together here.)

Petition for an MA rating link, remove spaces and *: www. change. o*r*g /petitions/fanfiction-net-we-want-fanfiction-to-create-a-ma-rating

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Anyway, I have MOVED this story COMPLETELY to another site. You can find this STORY and all its subsequent UPDATES here: h*t*t*p*:/archiveofourown. o*r*g/works/705732/chapters/1302826

I have the same penname there as I do here: ParadiseAvenger

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The messenger arrived at the beautiful white castle, dismounted from his great barrel-chested steed, and marched up the steps of the castle. In is leather satchel, he bore the message that would bring this awful war to a grinding halt. Well, hopefully, it would bring the war to a halt. If it didn't, even more people would die. The messenger lifted his flag from the horse's saddle and gazed up admiringly at the colors that had prevented him from being shot as he came across the moat. Then, he eagerly marched up the steps with his satchel and his flag. There were guards waiting for him, but they respected the colors of a messenger and let him into the king's big throne room.

King Roxas, affectionately known as Roxas the Fair, was seating on his modest carved wooden throne. Around his shoulders, he wore a cloak of soft blue velvet and had his feet thrust out in a kingly sort of manner. If it hadn't been for the stress visible in his face and the exhaustion of his deep blue eyes, it would have been easy to mistake Roxas as a kind elder brother, as someone who watched over and protected those smaller members of the family.

The messenger bowed to the king and then noticed the slender young man standing just abreast of the king's throne. He had a beautiful porcelain-doll baby-face with beautiful ocean-blue eyes, soft petal-pink lips, and a beautiful innocent expression. The messenger winced as this child-like youth knelt at Roxas's side and whispered something to him. The way Roxas's face smoothed of stress and pain and his lips curved into a smile, the messenger immediately realized that this young man was very precious to Roxas and that the fair king was not going to like the offer in the message.

Wordlessly, the messenger approached the throne, knelt, took the scroll from his satchel, and handed it to the king. Above his head, the flag lay limp, but it was a comfort to have the protective colors so close. The messenger remained kneeling while the king read the message. He already knew what it said (the scribe had warned him) and was bitterly awaiting Roxas's reaction.

King Roxas,

I am definitely ready to begin our compromises. There has been too much death on both of our sides, too much pain, and too much loss. But, as giving up your country will be like giving up some vital body part, I demand the same type of loss from you. I will only halt my assault if you give to me your precious slave—Sora Sky.

Sincerely,

King Riku

As expected, Roxas reacted violently. He tore the message into little pieces and sent them scattering like snowflakes. Beside him, the slender young man, the slave, had been reading over Roxas's shoulder. Now, his face pale and frightened, he said something to Roxas that the messenger couldn't hear.

"No!" Roxas shouted and whirled in his throne to catch the young man in his arms. His voice was a whisper as he spoke. "I won't give him you. You're my childhood friend."

Again, the slender beautiful youth spoke, so softly that his words were unheard. Roxas protested, hugging him tightly, but the slave appeared to be insisting.

Finally, Roxas lowered his head and his blue eyes were shining with half-shed tears. To the messenger, he said, "Return to your land and tell King Riku I accept. I will send Sora to him…" He choked on sadness and when he finally managed to speak again, his voice was thick and heavy. "I will send Sora…before the week is out. Surely, King Riku will give me that small amount of time, don't you think?"

The messenger leaped to his feet, nodded, bowed again, and hurried form the castle of Roxas the Fair. He mounted his horse and rode quickly. He did not fear that Roxas would have someone put an arrow in his back as he rode home. Nay, King Roxas was not called The Fair for nothing. Instead, the messenger feared hearing the sounds of the great leader's heart breaking. He managed to ride fast enough.

…

Sora was King Roxas's oldest friend and slave. He had been given to Roxas when they were both seven (Well, Roxas was seven and Sora would never know exactly how old he was.) by Roxas's uncle. The two had become fast friends and that friendship had lasted. Giving up Sora would be, as Riku so cleverly put it, like giving up something vital. They had been through a lot together—through Sora's damaged tormented psyche, giving him a last name, through Roxas's admittance about being gay and loving Sora, and Sora's lack of love for anything and his fear of it. They were partway through Sora's tangible fear of sex and kissing, his fear of being touched or held or even comforted. If things had stayed the way they were, their next obstacle might have been helping Sora find someone to love—be it Roxas or one of the sweet maids that Sora so feared.

After the messenger left, Roxas continued to clutch Sora tightly in his arms. He was trying so hard not to cry, not to scream, not to just fall apart. Sora, as soft and warm as ever, nestled his head beneath Roxas's chin and relished being held, for the very first time, as if it was the last time he would never feel a gentle touch again.

"I can't let you go," Roxas whispered.

"You have to," Sora murmured. "Our people are dying and you know if this continues King Riku will beat us anyway. If I go, no one else dies."

"You'll die!" he snapped, clutching Sora tighter to him.

Sora winced. "I'll be alright. Besides," he gently pushed Roxas back and smiled softly, "I know you'll find a way to save me."

Roxas smiled. "I will. After all, you're my most precious childhood friend."

Sora smiled and gently pushed Roxas away so that he could peer into his face. "I know you'll save me," he repeated. He hesitated, chewing his lower lip, and said softly, "…before he hurts me…"

Roxas swallowed thickly, looking into Sora's innocent honest open face, into his beautiful eyes. Gingerly, he cupped Sora's face in his hands, relishing as Sora didn't pull away from him. Sora often pulled away, pale and shaking, but Roxas saw deep fear in Sora's wonderful sky-blue eyes. They both knew what King Riku was known for—prostitutes, sex slaves, brothels… blood, rape, bruises, abuse! There was a great chance that poor fragile Sora with is fear of being kissed, touched, or even held would be quickly demolished by Riku's sexual deviance.

Silently, King Roxas the Fair held his most treasured person in his arms.

…

True to his word, before the week was out, King Roxas watched from the steps of his palace as Sora climbed into the carriage that would take him away. He was leaving with few treasured possessions—the king's amulet to wear beneath his shirt, his favorite robe, and a photograph of Roxas and himself as children—nothing else. Silently, Sora's pale beautiful face stared out of the carriage window, desperate and lost and more than a little afraid. Roxas lifted his hand and waved goodbye to his most precious person.

Then, kicking up clouds of dust on the road, Sora was taken from his life to stop a war he had never been a part of.

…

King Riku's castle was nothing like Roxas's. Roxas's castle was all white marble and fortified for protection rather than battle with thick walls in several layers—just in case an army managed to break through the outer bailey—and high towers. Riku's castle on the other hand was all sleek black stone with flying towers, battlements, and a thick iron portcullis. It was a frightening and formidable structure made for war, though it was clear that if you managed to get through the outer wall, you could take King Riku's keep by its balls. Roxas's keep was, on the other hand, unbreakable like an iron vault. Even if you managed through the outer wall, you would be faced with three layers of inner walls, and finally the castle itself which was a fortress nigh impenetrable.

Sora stepped from the carriage, shouldering his small pack, and found that King Riku was waiting for him at the top of the castle steps. Riku was a tall and well-muscled man who looked as if he could snap Sora in half on a whim. He had piercing jade-green eyes, long silvery hair, a strong jaw, and a hard angle to his brows. At King Riku's side was the woman Sora knew to be his sister, Selphie. She looked nothing like Riku save her jade-green eyes, all silky dark-chocolate tresses, honeyed flesh, and creamy skin.

Shivering even in the bright sunlight, Sora approached them. Both sets of eyes were on him, watching him like a beautiful butterfly pinned to a board or a delicacy about to be devoured. Once he was standing before them, he dipped himself into a low bow. It was a slave bow and he realized he hadn't had to bow so low in almost ten years, since he had been given to Roxas.

"Your majesty," Sora said softly.

"Sora Sky, isn't it?" Riku asked, giving a small nod to indicate he recognized Sora's bow.

Slowly, Sora straightened, nodding.

Riku took a step towards him, grabbing Sora's face in his long white fingers. Sora winced, desperate to pull away, but forced himself to hold his ground in front of his new king. No, not his new king. Roxas would always be his king and his closest friend. Riku was simply his new owner.

"You are incredibly beautiful," Riku said and Sora felt his hot breath on his face.

"Thank you," was all Sora said and gingerly pulled away.

Riku smirked at him and there was something sinister in that smile, something that made Sora's blood run cold. "Please, come in. Welcome to our humble home," Riku said and turned to gesture to the big grand doors of the black castle.

Sora dug his fingers into the supple leather of his bag, glanced into the distance, and imagined he could see the white shine of Roxas's castle in the sunlight, but he couldn't. It was only wishful thinking. Firmly, Riku grasped him by his upper arm and pulled him into the castle. The heavy doors slammed shut and the cold of the castle seeped into him. Sora immediately wished that he could leave, but he knew it was impossible.

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And I removed the original mature content that continued from that point due to the trolls. Please join the cause to bring maturity to Fanfiction again. Or read this story and all its updates in its original version on Archive of Our Own.