Ja'far refused to acknowledge the difference in his own strength and the magi's, even now. He refused to allow himself to believe that he, one of Sindria's strongest protectors, could be so easily thwarted. It was embarrassing. Every scratch on his body, every patch of skin that was near ashen and dead with frostbite, burned with shame. Even channeling the rage and the disappointment he had in himself did little though, otherwise he would have been out of his current predicament in an instant. The cords woven through the knives he did battle with were some of the strongest around, and though that was usually one of his advantages in a fight, Judal had exploited it as an enormous weakness. Now that they were tied around his wrists and ankles, binding his body tight he was well aware of the fact that there was no breaking out of them; were that a possibility, he wouldn't have been using them in the first place.
Despite his position, the Sindrian's tongue remained knifelike. "You won't get anything out of me, it doesn't matter what you do," he hissed, "I'm not so weak that I'll cower in fear just because you beat me. If you think otherwise, you underestimate Sinbad's judgement even more than I thought."
A cackle fell casually from Judal's lips, and it was followed by a long whistle. "That's awfully big talk, coming from somebody standing where you are," the teenager responded, raising a hand to run it over one of the other's battered cheeks. "But I actually do believe you! I knew that going into this- if I wanted information on Sinbad, I wouldn't have come to you." His hand slinked away from Ja'far's face, then set wearily on his own. "You're Sinbad's closest lapdog, right?"
Ja'far didn't answer with anything more than a scoff.
Judal's smile fell a bit. "That's a little rude, isn't it? It's not any way to treat another kingdom's oracle, you should know that." The magi's cherry eyes fell to one of the knives in his own hand, one still attached to the cords that bound Ja'far. The metal gleamed as it was brought up to the other's shoulder, then trailed back down to the general's elbow and leaving a shallow red cut in it's wake.
The older male attempted to squirm as little as possible, tightening his hands into fists instead.
"So," Judal continued, letting the knife drop and hang limp in the air. "I just wish you played as big as you talked. You get such a scary look in your eyes when you fight, I thought you might have held up longer than you did... I'm kinda disappointed. If you're the best Sinbad has to offer, this won't be any fun at all. I might even just go to Sindria all by myself!"
The blood that pulsed against the tight bindings nearly paused as Ja'far's heart faltered. "Stay out of Sindria," he warned, "Sinbad wouldn't let somebody like you within our walls, even if it meant-"
"Spare me the speech, I'm fully aware that they're all going to go kicking and squirming as hard as they can. If it's of any consolation, if they're as weak as you, they'll go quick!"
Ja'far's skin strained against the cords, but the only effect the resistance had was drawing a chuckle from the fallen magi.
"That's exactly why I'm so glad I got to fight you today, though! Even if it wasn't that much fun, I might be able to get something good out of it." After retrieving the other's weapon once more, Judal traced a couple more scratches up and down along the other's pale neck. Red dripped from the shallow injuries, but the skin was lapped clean by Judal's tongue only seconds later. "After all, I'd be pretty mad if I found one of my strongest allies hung up and bled dry, wouldn't you? I'm betting Sinbad would."
Ja'far's lips nearly disappeared as they stretched into a thin line, but his icy stare showed no hints of melting.
Judal continued on with his playtime, poking the knife repeatedly down the freckled chest. He continued down in a mostly straight line down his sternum, though the line did falter as he poked at some of the larger, more prominent spots that adorned the other's chest.
Though he did his best to keep collected, Ja'far couldn't help but grunt once or twice. Much of his body was already in pain, and the sharp stabs weren't at all pleasant on top of that.
Judal hummed at the sound, pressed an ear to his enemy's still-dripping throat. "Do that again," Judal commanded at one of the grunts. He continued poking down, and after a few moments of silence passed he stabbed a few centimeters deeper than his past pokes.
"I said, do it again."
Ja'far tried to bar his voice as best he could, he wished he could have bottled it and cast it into the ocean, but it showed up despite his wishes. He yelped a bit louder that time, which only pulled a louder, more pleased hum from the oracle.
"You're not a very obedient lapdog- why did Sinbad keep you around so long?" Judal frowned, cutting absentmindedly at the Sindrian's clothing to tatter it. "I might have let you live if you weren't such an annoyance, y'know."
Ja'far's head lulled back and his eyes shut as his consciousness threatened to wash away, but the feeling passed and he raised his head once more. Though it might have been more pleasant to let himself go black, the general held on, forcing himself to stay awake and aware. "I was useful to him," Ja'far responded, "And I'm his friend. I wasn't obedient, because I wasn't his lapdog."
"Well, you're not gonna be too useful now," Judal pointed out, "But you can help me out, at least. I mean, I bet he'll get pretty riled up if he finds your body all used up, huh? That's what I'm counting on, anyways."
Ja'far felt a spark of panic, the heat of it melting the frost in his expression just a bit. He had an inkling that this situation was going to end in his death, at this point. That wasn't the issue. The issue was why, why was Judal so intent on killing him now? Just to piss Sinbad off? Judal had gone to pretty far extents to do so before, but this was beyond.
"What do you mean by that? Why do you want Sinbad-"
The words were interrupted by a loud groan as a knife found him in the crook of his elbow.
"That's better," Judal said, shoulder's loosening at the sound. He ground his hips forward, pressing his groin to the other's bare belly, the thin, black fabric of his pants being the only thing that separated them. He continued to slide his hips back and forth and wiggled the knife inside Ja'far's arm a bit, making sure any words he tried to form were muffled beneath pained groans.
"But if you really need to know," the dark-haired male started, lips set right at Ja'far's ear. "I'm getting tired of Sinbad interfering, so I decided it was time to get you all out of my way. I don't have to tell you how much I love war again, do I?"
"Get- ngh!" Ja'far had to bite his sentence in half as he clenched his jaw to hold back a scream as he felt the knife slice against his tendon.
"Get away from me, just kill me already if you're going to do it!" The normally composed general was now pale from fear and blood loss; he had never been at such an overwhelming disadvantage, never really thought he was going to die, so the fear couldn't be helped even with as much as he tried to push it away. Making sure he didn't show was all that mattered, though. He had to show Judal that their empire wasn't so weak as to crumble under somebody like him.
Judal raised the innermost parts of his brows, giving him a confused, almost bewildered expression. "There's nobody around for miles! I didn't bring you this far off course from your journey just to kill you quick- I never get to have fun like this, I'm gonna make it last at least a few more minutes."
Ja'far would have allowed the rumbling that threatened to enter his throat to be heard had he not known it would result in another 'lapdog' crack from Judal.
By the time Ja'far realized the cords binding his feet had been cut by the other's magic, his ankles had been drawn apart. They were promptly wrapped in ice and frozen to the tree his body was suspended from, his wrists over his head and tied to a thick branch above them.
"That'll work much better," Judal said after taking a step back while standing in midair to examine the other's spread legs.
Ja'far had enough of a hunch that he didn't have to ask what for, but the answer was solidified as he heard cloth shifting and felt the other's warm, hardened cock press to his thigh.
"You're sick."
Judal yanked the knife from Ja'far's arm . "Sinbad's not hear to protect you this time- you should learn to keep your mouth shut," Judal teased. He grinned, then ran the knife down each one of Ja'far's thighs. The pained sounds the other gave only served to make him that much harder, even drawing a small sigh from him. "I hardly ever get the chance to do this- it's not that great hearing pain when it's just coming from weak, everyday people, y'know. Kouen doesn't like me doing this on the battlefield, anyway. Either way, it's not like hearing it come from somebody you really loathe. I've been waiting to do this to one of you guys, one of Sinbad's generals. I gotta say, it's even better than I thought it would be!"
Both of Judal's hands raised to Ja'far's thighs, running over the slices he'd opened on the pale skin and smearing the red that leaked out over his hands.
No amount of biting down or fist clenching made that feel any better. Ja'far writhed in response, his thighs blazing hot while his feet and ankles burned cold from the ice that had enclosed around them.
"Sinbad's gonna kill you," Ja'far assured, voice wavering only in pain. His confidence hadn't been broken, he had faith in that man.
"Stop lying to yourself," Judal breathed, settling the words down on Ja'far's neck. The man squeezed his ear to his shoulder, and the magi cackled. "Sinbad's an abnormality, even a guy like me can't deny that, but still... he's no magi."
Two thin, pale fingers dug deeper inside one of the incisions along Ja'far's thighs. Judal decorated the air with a contented sigh, adding it to the Sindrian's groans and yelps. He kept that up for a moment, continuing to squish at the inside of the thigh before removing his fingers and decorating his own bare belly with the blood.
"Stop trying to hold back," Judal murmured, butting their foreheads together. Ja'far tried to pull away, but the magi wouldn't allow him to break the contact. "I know it hurts, and there's no shame in it. There's nobody around to hear you, after all."
The magi laughed and returned his hand to his groin, unfalteringly hard still as he pressed one bloodied hand over the organ. He snapped the hem of his pants down just enough to expose his length and the upper half of his ass, a tan line dividing his upper body from his lower half.
The next touches Ja'far felt were almost uncomfortably light. Judal pushed his hands down into his pants and stroked along the insides of his thighs, streaking them with the drying blood. They were soft and doughy beneath his fingertips, and the skin gave way easily... and though it was useless, the magi could still feel Ja'far squirming and trying to get away.
"I'm glad you've still got so much willpower in you, y'know, I can't say I don't admire that about Sindria's generals. You won't give up, even when you know you should." His hands moved out of Ja'far's pants just long enough for the rest of his body to move behind Ja'far, then they returned back down into them to cup at his ass. "It wouldn't be worth my time if you didn't."
Judal gave a sudden squeeze into the plush flesh, digging his nails tight into it before pulling Ja'far's pants down enough to show his ass. He didn't bother looking down- he didn't care much about how Ja'far's body looked, he cared more about how he reacted. It wasn't looks that Judal got off on, aesthetics didn't really matter for him. It was the pain and the agony, the absolute desperation that he could feel pulsing through his victim's heart. He kneaded at the two rounds of flesh, but didn't spend too much time on them. Eventually, he just pulled them apart, opening the other up wide.
Ja'far instinctually tried to shift away. His muscles clenched and his teeth grit together as he tried to scavenge up every ounce of energy left in his body. He had to get away, he had to stay alive to warn Sinbad that Judal's threats of war were no longer hollow. They had, he was seeing, become all too real.
There wasn't even time to yelp out. Judal shoved himself inside of Ja'far lubricated only by blood, drawing out a hoarse groan from Ja'far. He would have screamed, it was certainly painful enough, had he still had the energy and capability to do so. It was such a different type of pain, and the humiliation surely wasn't doing anything to alleviate the physical discomfort.
The movements of Judal's hips were rough, but he grinned on anyway. He clenched his teeth on Ja'far's neck after a little while of silence, breaking skin and filling his mouth with the taste of metal. He didn't make any attempt to swallow or lap it up, he just watched it drain down and soak into the man's clothing. If there was any single aesthetic attraction Judal had to admit to, it was the way he could physically watch life drip down and out of another's pale skin; It was great to see on any skin, but pale skin like Ja'far's was admittedly his favorite, with the way the colors contrasted and the ivory was left with a crimson stain.
Eventually, though it did nothing to make the assault and invasion feel any less excruciating, Judal's hips evened out. Ja'far let out a small groan here and there, but he was so near losing consciousness, there was little he could manage. His feet and ankles had gone numb long ago, and though he couldn't see that far with his blurred vision, he was sure they'd at least started to blacken and die of frostbite by that point. His legs still seared and he felt as if his insides had been rubbed raw, and it only got worse as Judal quickened his pace and reached his peak.
"Scream again," Judal hissed, pushing one of Ja'far's own knives into his side. The man yelped, but not as much as Judal had been hoping for- dragging the knife down a few inches seemed to do the trick, though. Judal hit orgasm as the screeching danced into his ears, then removed both the knife as well as his own organ after he'd finished. A satisfied groan left him and he covered himself back up, lifting his pants and strolling back around to the front of the other's body.
Ja'far's eyes had lost most of their life at that point. His skin looked like tissue paper, and he couldn't have had much blood left pumping through him with all the different injuries he'd sustained. Every man had his breaking point, and Ja'far had finally reached his.
"Just kill me, Judal," he murmured, the words barely audible over the sound of wind and nearby animals. "If you're going to do it..."
Both of the magi's toes curled in the grass as he heard the request. His red eyes flitted into the sky, noting the sun's position and where it had fallen to. "I guess I'll have to... I've gotta bathe before I drop you off back home, anyway."
There was no hesitation in the way the scepter was shoved through Ja'far's heart, the magoi-reinforced instrument piercing through muscle and bone with ease. It was allowed to remain for a moment, twisted and turned inside the organ before being removed with the same ease and brevity. Ja'far gave one last choke, his deadening eyes starting to wet with the tears he'd been fighting off through the entire encounter. He lost control of his body completely now and his nerves went numb, and eventually his head lulled forward with no sign of life left in it.
A simply 'huh' was Judal's only response before he turned away, heading off to a lake he'd seen on his flight to the area to clean himself off and take the body back to its home country.