This chapter was COMPLETELY unplanned, yo'. It was just kinda like "whatever I write I write!" But I want to thank everyone who reviewed!

The Flame Panther: Heh, so sorry to kill everyone off, especially Samus. I'm a Samus fan, myself, and it was painful, but it had to be done.

Thais: There's much more than Roy-kissing in this chapter! On with the yaoi!!

Spirit Dragon: Another Samus fan? I feel your immense pain. It hurt, it really did…

Morias: You give me the longest reviews, man… I haven't really decided if Roy should die, not yet. Read this chapter and see what you think.

A warning here, too: there's yaoi here! It's mild, but it's there. Read at your own risk!

Roy swallowed hard, turning his head slightly to get a look at the mirror beside him. In it, he saw the reflection of himself, the helpless victim, being held at swordpoint by his friend and lover. "It's so unfortunate that it has to be like this," Marth murmured as he nicked the back of Roy's neck with the deadly blade, "but now I'm afraid that you'll have to be punished."

Roy gave a soft whimper of apprehension but Marth gently hushed him. "Close your eyes, Roy," he whispered, "and I promise it won't hurt for more than a second." The fire warrior did as he was told, tightly closing his lavender eyes as he waited for the pain. Why did he have to snoop around like that!? Would it cost him his life? He would die at Marth's hands, no less. "How could you?" Roy silently asked, tears welling in his eyes behind the sealed lids. "Why, Marth? Why!?"

Marth pulled back the blade and was about to go in for a kill but he stopped when he saw Roy's shoulders heave with a soft sob. A look of wonderment crossed Marth's stone-cold glare. The poor boy was scared, wasn't he? He made no move to strike back, either. Roy almost never hurt Marth, not even in their Melees together, and even when Roy cut off Marth's hand, it had been an accident. The hardened killer started to lose his poise as something crossed his mind.

Roy's benevolence would be his downfall.

The silence was driving Roy mad. His pulse was pounding in his ears and sweat was pouring down his face. Was Marth waiting for his body to self-destruct from worry? "What are you waiting for!?" Roy asked impatiently. He clenched his fists at his sides, lowering his head a bit as he started to tremble. "Do it, Marth! Don't keep me waiting."

"I won't." Roy was startled to hear Marth's voice in front of him and, before he could open his eyes, he felt Marth's lips forced over his. The monarch had his arms around his partner and, with them, Falchion's deadly blade. After several tense minutes, Marth broke the kiss and glared down into Roy's eyes. "You feel guilty," he sneered, "and rightly so! If it wasn't for your stupidity and your blind rage, then I wouldn't be deformed now!"

Marth brought his blade around and thrust it up beneath Roy's chin, making him tilt his head back. The motion gave him only a scratch but quite a scare. Those tears had since spilled over Roy's cheeks and they now mingled with his blood before they dripped down the blade. "Don't start blubbering," Marth snarled. He now brought the blade against Roy's collarbone and tore it down the length of his body. His expert swordplay didn't shear a hair from Roy's skin; he merely slit a line down his shirt and pants. "Prove to me that your life is worth something to me."

--

Hours later, Roy was still crying for fear and for shame. The nude warrior was trembling as he sobbed into his pillows. He was lying on his stomach because his backside hurt too much. His shoulders were cut open by the bite of a blade and his rear… Well…

Marth was sitting on the edge of the bed with his bloodied blade across his knees. "Because of you," he growled, "my plan is ruined. Now I have to finish off the rest of these miserable warriors quickly and get out of here as soon as I can." Marth stood and suited up in his black-and-gold armor, lastly pulling on his black gloves. The right glove had been tailored to cover and partially hide his right wrist. He shook with rage as he beheld his deformity and he now turned toward Roy, fresh rage in his eyes. He grabbed Roy by the hair and pulled his head back. When the boy cried out, Marth shoved his stump into his mouth and practically attempted to jam it down his throat.

"If I'm in a good mood by the time I get back," Marth growled to him, "then you will be spared. Do you hear me?" He shook Roy violently, pulling roughly on his hair and pushing his arm farther down Roy's throat. "Your life is subject to my whim!" When he felt as though he'd sufficiently terrorized his victim, Marth detached himself from Roy's head and cuffed him across his cheek. The moody monarch now turned away from Roy and, in a flourish of his dark cape, left.

When he was quite sure that Marth was gone, Roy tried to free himself and get out of the bed. He couldn't, though; Marth had put a black leather collar around Roy's neck and attached that to something heavy that stood behind the headboard. Roy couldn't reach it if he tried.

His pain made him groan, collapsing back against the mattress. The fiery warrior helplessly sobbed into the pillows, clenching his fists. This was exactly what had happened to Tomoyuki! Now, Roy's once loving friend had completely turned against him and had become his enemy. The mild-mannered Marth had now chained Roy up to his own bed with a dog chain and a collar that had the title "Slut" embroidered in it.

Oooh, a little cruel, ne? Read and review while I think of what should happen next!