"I would like a SaixXZexion. Any length, preferably romance. Rating T and above (gives you plenty of options for any path the story would take) And... well any pairings you'd like to toss in. freedom is entirely yours to take, Have fun with it I guess."
I would love to thank DancingFlurry for this request. I DO REQUESTS, GUYS! Just pm me! Are my stories really that bad that I've only got one request?
Tamed
Chapter 1
It Is Not Yours
Before Saix, there were six.
Xehanort, Braig, Dilan, Aeleus, Even, and Ienzo.
And indeed it had been just that simple. Five apprentices and one master. No unfamiliar faces around the room, no empty spaces, no growling and no feral stalking through the hallways.
Before Saix, it was simple. The nobodies lived their lives, all lusting for Kingdom hearts in their own way. But the wild beserker changed that perhaps in many ways. Ways that made Aeleus flinch, Braig loose his target, Even drop beakers, Xehanort avert his eyes and Dilan snap his lances with frustration.
Indeed perhaps one would think that Ienzo, cool as always, would be the least affected by the possessivity and agression that Saix prowled the hallways with. Saix, who reigned control over himself in the last days of his life, animalistically roamed the castle the first few days of his life (or lack thereof, maybe?). Ienzo, the child of the organization, wise beyond his years with his nose in a book, could not be bothered by such a trivial matter of viscious rage and inhuman power, no?
The gentle gray-haired boy of Organization XIII was indeed bothered. He might have been the Cloaked Schemer, but that positively did not mean that he was part of the fighting. Aeleus, Braig and Dilan had always been the fighters. Even and Ienzo, not as much.
Ienzo was most likely bothered the most on a certain evening.
As was common, he was to be found amidst piles of books in an old, stoop-backed chair that was threadworn from the boy's fingers picking at the edges of the cloth. The book on his lap was uncommonly brightly colored, red at the edges with golden letters printed on top. It was worn like the chair, showing favoritism from Ienzo himself. It must have been a good book, perhaps, for he was most certainly not paying any attention to what was going on with the rest of the world.
Most certainly not paying attention, either, when the door to the Library was slammed precariously almost off its hinges. In stormed none other than the most unsettled creature of Castle. Through the bookshelves it raged, tearing and destroying each book as though they were nothing.
This, perhaps, awoke the Schemer from his own dreams in his book. At once, the child inside of the no more than 17 year old boy flinched, wanting to hide behind books where there was always a happy ending. But when he saw that the creature had crouched down to tear fangs-first into one of his favorites, he placed the crimson book on top of another pile, and wove his way quickly but calmly to the blue-haired rage that was creating a flurry of paper.
He reached out a hand, which shook abruptly but then steadied, and tore the book out of the grasp of the heathen creature. He stared at the wounded pages in his hands, gently pressing his fingers to each, hesitantly wishing he had healing powers for he would heal his dearest friend, a book of great beauty.
Ienzo paid no attention to the dark, ominous shadow which rose off the ground, aggressively leaning into his personal space.
"Give it back." the creature warned, holding out a gloved hand to the child.
Shaking, Ienzo pressed the book to his own chest, twisting his head from side to side in refusal.
"It's not yours." He stuttered, backing against a bookcase.
"Nor is it yours. Give it back, now." It demanded, and the creature beckoned to the boy rashly, stepping forward.
Ienzo turned to run, crying out in alarm and fear. At first, he thought that it was following him, but when he glanced back through the doorway the yellow eyes of the Beserker form of Saix just glanced away disdainfully.
He was not followed down the corridor.