The torches lit the pathway, flames flickering as the freezing breeze flew past. He unlocked the door, the rusty key scraping past the interlockings of the door,

clicking open with a finite 'clonk'. The tips of his silky garments touched the filthy floor as he walked tenetively down the large hallway, his only solace being

the small light of the fire as the pained moans of the prisoners in their cells echoed around him. They begged and pleaded with him, offering him anything in return for their freedom.

He ignored them, staring at the very last- and oldest- of their barred homes. He walked swiftly and with a very purposeful stride, brown eyes hooded darkly from lack

of sleep. As he came to a stop in front of the dirty man's cell, he hissed, "Why did your master take my brother?!"

The man turned slowly, revealing a grin filled with a wicked pleasure, lips curled back, disgusting yellow teeth glinting in the firelight. His milky white eyes

stared at the eldest prince with a sadistic, knowing light in them. "He thought the pretty prince would make a lovely queen." He paused to snort, "'Specially compared to the heavenly beauty of yerself," he stated sarcastically to Lovino's growing anger.

He grasped the front of the old man's ragged shirt, fisting it furiously. The man's face morphed into an expression of surprise as the younger male slammed his dirt and feces streaked face into the metal door, growling lowly into his ear. "If I release you right now, at this moment, and made you swear on your worthless life to return with my brother, would you?"

The man nodded eagerly, babbling promises and frantically crossing his fingers across his heart, his malnutritioned form straightening in a way he hoped seemed sincere. The prince released the grimy shirt, face pinching in disgust as he held his arm as far away as he could from his body, though not before recieving a sloppy kiss on the hand from the master of disguise. Looking faint, the prince wondered whether or not he should cut off his arm, but gestured to the guards to open the door with his free (and uninfected) arm.

He walked down the dimly lit hallways, arms wrapped around himself in a vain attempt to keep warm. The throneroom was dark, only containing a few small lanturns, made of glass and dusty from age. The servents avoided eye contact, going about their duties with a practiced ease. He, every once in a while, wished they'd speak to him, or at least acknowledged his existence. The only one who talked to him was his captor, and he didn't want to talk with the man at the moment. All the conversations with him were extremely boring, mostly containing evil plots and maddening laughter. It was getting old. He trailed a hand down the intricate engravings on the stone wall, depicting wars, famine, and depressions in this land.

He lifted a free hand to his neck, delicately fingering the smooth metal that marked his bondage. His eternal servatude and loyalty to his husband. "Feliciano!" He flinched, arms falling to his sides immediately. "What are you doing out of your room?" The man chuckled as he stammered to answer, a cool smirk falling on his face as he wrapped his arms around the prince. "You were so vocal yesterday; your screams of pain were pure music to my ears," he cooed, warm breaths moving over his neck rhythmically. "Guess you don't want to testify how much of a 'big bad meanie pants' I am."

"That's because you're still around," he whispered to himself, wincing as the strong arms holding him grew tighter. You messed up, he thought to himself, hoping that his husband was in a good mood. It wasn't likely, but he had a small chance.

"What's that, honey?" he asked sweetly, pecking his cheek with a sigh. Pears and apples, he decided, were now his favorite smells, along with this certain... pheromone that left him utterly captivated at first sniff. One that led to their wonderfully happy marriage. The silver collar that encircled the prince's slender neck: a sign of their commitment to one another. Their true, pure love and emotional attachment to the other.

"Nothing," he answered stiffly, trying to ignore the way his mate was sniffing his hair, nuzzling his neck. Feeling a small prick on his arm, he squeaked, squirming slightly. A soft kiss was laid upon his neck, making him relax a little. His will crumbled as a calloused finger trailed down his side, making him shiver. His previously closed eyes opened, pure golden amber swirling with tendrils of dark purple. "Mmh..." he sighed, leaning onto the strong male behind him. Primal thoughts replaced coherent, dark spells overtaking his freewill. Alpha, his brain crooned, he soon following aloud.

"That's right, dear I'm your alpha." A dopey smile spread over the auburn haired male's face, eyes alight with simplistic joy. Like a dog recieving praise from his master. "And you're my beautiful queen."