So that's what I do with the time I don't have.

Warnings: Mentions of torture

Disclaimer: The characters don't belong to me.

"Here." The King pulled another dusty map and pushed it in front of Arthur. His eyes wandered to the sea before settling at the area the man was showing. "If we attack them here then their only escape route would be through this valley."

"And that can easily be blocked by our troops." He nodded, leaning forward to see the lines on the dim candle light. A storm rumbled outside, but inside the castle the fireplaces were burning with warm fire. "We're going to need a decoy. We can send a smaller group to lure them out. They'll be so sure of their victory they won't know what hit them." A smirk split his face. He just loved dangling hope in front of his opponents and then yanking it away. It was the most complete kind of victory.

"What do you think, My Queen? Would this victory satisfy you?" The King turned towards the woman that was sitting on a chair nearby. She was looking through a window, waiting. A book lay forgotten in her lap.

"As long as you return to me I'll be satisfied, mi amor." She smiled at her husband.

At that Arthur's own eyes diverted to the window. The uneasiness he'd been feeling for the past days was growing. The storm had been raking along the coast and ships were being diverted to safer ports. He shook his head. So far there haven't been reports of crashed vessels.

"Then you have nothing to worry about, Your Majesty." He bowed to her. "Victory will be ours." He kissed her hand.

"I hope so, Arthur." She smiled at him. "But I've told you so many times, just call me…"

At that moment the heavy wooden door pushed open and the tension that they had all been feeling for the last few days dissipated. Arthur breathed in relief as Antonio stepped in. He was soaked, but he had returned safely despite the storm.

"Your Majesties." Antonio bowed his head in acknowledgement. "Kingdom of England."

"Antonio." The Queen was already on her feet and crossing the small room towards her country. "I'm so glad you've returned to us safely." She kissed him on the cheeks and Arthur was suddenly very aware of the bruises on his lover's face and the eye-patch, covering one of his eyes. He could see swollen flesh peeking from beneath the black fabric.

"It was a dangerous journey, but no storm can keep me away from home." The Spaniard smiled reassuringly at her. Arthur watched him limp a few steps towards the King and he felt dread curl at the pit of his stomach. Something was very wrong with Antonio. "I have secured the colony. They won't bother Your Majesty anymore."

"That's great news, Spanish Empire. As a matter of fact you are right on time. Arthur and I were just discussing…" The blond didn't hear the rest of that sentence. His had gone numb. Antonio had taken off his heavy coat. He was wearing just a thin shirt underneath and the rolled up sleeves showed blued and bruised skin. He had been shackled. Shackled and tortured. Arthur's eyes narrowed at the way his lover's body was slightly bend to protect his side.

"Take it off." He growled. The King and the Queen looked startled at him. Antonio's eyes opened wide for a moment. At least the one eye he was seeing did. Arthur felt sick fear claw at him. It couldn't be.

"Excuse me?" The way the Spaniard tried to compose himself and hide the marks on his body only fueled Arthur's fear. There was no way. No one would dare. Antonio wouldn't let them.

"I said take the damn eyepatch off." He bit out, taking the few steps necessary to stand in front of the other.

"Oh, that." Antonio fingered the string that held the fabric in place. "That's nothing." He smiled dismissively. "Why don't we…" He tried to turn away, but Arthur grabbed him by the shoulder. The way the other winced made red rage cover his vision. Someone was going to pay dearly for this.

"Antonio." He said in a low, cold voice. "Don't play games with me. Take the bloody eye-patch off."

"I'm telling you it's nothing. It's going to heal." The Spaniard snapped at him and tried to step away.

Arthur only held on tighter. This close he could see a red ring around Antonio's visible eye. It had been damaged. He reached quickly and pulled the eye-patch off. The lid was immediately shut, but what he saw in that small part of a second made his stomach roll. It couldn't be.

"Open it." He commanded, grabbing Antonio by the chin. A part of him noted how the bruises matched the places his fingers were. Someone had held his lover's head with enough force to leave marks. Just for that Arthur was going to make them wish for a quick death.

"Leave it alone." This time Antonio did struggle. The Spaniard pushed at him and probably would have succeeded if Arthur wasn't furious beyond belief.

"Open." He pressed the other man against the heavy wooden table, leaving him nowhere to run. Antonio's lower lip trembled and he looked away. Then that olive green eye met his. Arthur felt fear and fury crawl on his skin. He adored those green eyes. All he had to do was look at them and he would be caught in a sweet cocktail of passion and excitement. Antonio could set a fire in him with just one look. So if someone had even thought about…

The lid opened to reveal nothing. Arthur swallowed at the sight. The beautiful green was gone and there was nothing left behind, but a gaping bloody wound. Rage swept so fast through him he felt sick to the bone.

"Bloody hell." His fist crashed on the table behind Antonio. His forehead fell on his lover's shoulder and he tried to reign himself in. Whoever it was, they were going to pay for this with their souls. Even that wouldn't be enough. He would resurrect them and destroy them again. His fingers itched with the desire to spill blood and rip out hearts. No one touched what was his and Antonio was most definitely his. He would wipe whoever did this off the face of the Earth.

"It's alright." Antonio brushed through his hair. "It will grow back, so I'll just wear the eye-patch for now and…"

Arthur straightened up and looked straight into Antonio's eyes. "I'll kill them. I promise you."

The Spaniard gaped at him. "Don't… just…"

Arthur wasn't listening. He was already ringing for a servant. He needed a ship. A fleet would do. He was going to rain hell on that lowlife. Because…

A roar tore out of his throat. The maps fell to the floor, causing dust to raise everywhere. He grabbed the closest candle stand and swung it. The candles flew around the room, landing on old maps and flammable fabrics. Someone shouted at him, but he didn't hear them. The iron crashed into a glass stand. Crystal and broken shards littered the floor. He stepped on them, but the way they crunched gave him no satisfaction. He needed to kill someone. He needed to crush the very soul out of their bodies. He was going to make them regret the day they were born. Oh, yes. First he was going to pull their nails out. One by one. Until they screamed for mercy. The only mercy he would show them would be pouring hot tar on their eyes. This way they wouldn't see the bull they were going to roast alive in.

An insane grin split his face. He needed a ship. He looked around. Flames had caught on the tapestry and were making their way up expensive curtains. The maps had burned and the heavy wooden table was fighting the fire as best as it could. He saw Antonio jumping over the fire with his Queen in his hands. A second later he was back, calling for him. Arthur grabbed the outstretched hand and followed.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" The Spaniard shouted, but the blond just grabbed him and pulled him closer. He pressed his mouth against Antonio's bruised lips.

"I am going kill them for you, love." He let go and turned towards the closest servant. "Prepare me a ship. I have a promise to keep."