Fubuki no Kaen
(MarthRoy)
Authors: Xan and Vallen
Rating: R
Warnings: One thing… Or, lot's of things: This is a story with yaoi/shounen
ai/slash, whatever you want to call it. If that sort of stuff isn't your thing,
then don't read it. But, we hope that you do…
Disclaimer: The characters Marth and Roy, plus "Altea", do not belong to us. We
just use them for our pleasure.
Feedback: Yes. (That means we would love to hear from you and what you think!)
Notes:
Xan: Well, here it is! We had a lot of fun writing this one, so I hope all of you will have as much fun reading it! Beware, kinda bloody. *giggles* Well, don't say I didn't warn you…
Vallen: Yes, I agree! More blood than usual, but what can we say, we like it. What blood, you say? Go ahead and find out… Oh, and did anybody look at the link that I put up last chapter…? Just checking…
Thanks to: RcA (It's okay! Just as long as you're still reading! *blinks* You're dreading the end? Well, we haven't even hit the tip of the iceberg yet in this little ficcie… heheh… Just a warning…), Aynari Hayami (*big grin* You have no idea how good it is to hear that! Yay! We are so glad that we have succeeded as authors… Did you hear that, Xan?), LiL PriNCeSs Me (We are cruel because we have to be… to have fun. ^__^ Don't worry, the chapters won't be as short as that one… We'll try!), Jiji (Oh, a newcomer! Found us, have you? You're very welcome… We indulge in our fantasies… Don't mind us.), and turquoisefox (Thank you so much for the info! But I think Xan's going to keep the name she had… Her face kinda went sour once she saw "Cornelius"… She doesn't want her "baby" having a "Cornelius" for a father… Oh well. Thanks anyways and we love your feedback! *hug*).
The auburn-haired teen felt strong arms lifting him out of the water and carrying him across the washroom.
"…Marth?" He asked groggily, the name slipping from his tongue.
"You were a bad Pet… You fell asleep in the tub… Look at your skin now…" The Slaver admonished, setting Roy down in a chair. He took a towel and began to dry the teen off none too gently.
Roy clamped his mouth shut and shrank away from the older man, or as much as he was allowed to. The slave-owner dressed him in new clothes altogether once he was dry. He was now dressed in a pair of black shorts and a small red and gold sleeveless tunic that displayed much of his abdomen. The red, glaring wounds dealt by Trave now stood out more than ever.
Trave frowned,
"I had hoped that a night's rest would help you, but you're still tired…" he mused as picked the boy up once again, this time carrying him to a majestic purple couch across from the bed.
Roy sat there, staring emptily at the floor. He hated being treated like a doll, but it was all he could do to avoid getting hurt again. His cobalt eyes raised a little to watch Trave cross the room towards where Marth laid on the floor.
"Let's wake up 'Sleeping Beauty,' shall we?"
The Slaver prodded Marth's ribs with one sharp-toed boot.
"Up, Pet. I cannot allow you to sleep all day."
Marth opened his eyes, instantly awake. Trave pulled him roughly to his feet and the exiled Prince looked around the room coldly, glaring into his owner's eyes. Trave cuffed him sharply and took hold of his collar to lead him to the washroom. He forced Marth to strip and pushed him into the bathtub and began to bathe him, taking no regard to the pain it put Marth through. Marth's face burned with shame, not only because Roy was watching, but because of the indignity to which he had been lowered.
Once he was "properly cleaned," as Trave had put it, he was made to put on an outfit similar to Roy's, but instead of a red and gold tunic, his was silver and royal blue.
Now that both Marth and Roy were washed and dressed up like the playthings that they were, the slave owner stood back and admired his own handiwork with sadistic glee in his eyes.
"Much better," he remarked to nobody in particular. "Today, we are going to do something different."
Marth and Roy's identical eyes looked up at the Trave with apprehension showing in both of them. Trave smiled at the sight.
"That's right. You have every reason to be scared…" He chuckled.
The slave-owner then produced a pair of golden chains. He first went over to the frighteningly still ex-Prince and used one chain to connect one of his wrists to another. There was now about a foot and a half of cold, loose chain between each of Marth's wrists.
Once Roy was chained as well, he stared at the string of metal, eyes widening slightly. He had never expected to actually get out of this nightmarish place, but here the answer was, staring him in the face. He got up off the couch and slowly walked over to Trave. Then, the auburn-haired teen took a deep breath, leaned up and kissed the sadistic man on the lips.
At first, Trave's reaction was surprise, but it turned quickly to greed and he took control almost immediately. He was so absorbed on ravishing the teen's lips and mouth that he didn't notice a pair of shackled hands raise up towards his head.
With an intricate twisting motion, Roy wrapped the chain around Trave's neck tightly and began to pull with all of his might.
The sadistic man let out a choking sound and with an angry, strangled roar, started kicking and hitting at Roy, trying to dislodge both him and the chain. The ex-General did not let up, although his strength was ebbing.
"Help me!" He cried to Marth.
Marth, who had been watching in pseudo-shock went to help him instantly. Throwing his own chain around Trave's neck as Roy had done, Marth used his greater size to wrestle Trave to the floor. The slave-owner struggled wildly, still trying to fling the two rebellious slaves from his body. One well-placed punch caught Marth on the eye. Another caught Roy's already sore abdomen. Marth saw that Roy's hold on Trave was weakening and hit his owner over the head with all the strength he could muster, given the position that he was in. The blow dazed Trave, but not enough.
Both Marth and Roy were so focused on what they were doing that they didn't notice Trave's hand snake around and seize a concealed knife until it was too late. He lunged with the knife and gouged a deep wound in Roy's thigh. The boy-General cried out in pain and fell down as far as the chain would let him, practically hanging from Trave's throat. He shuddered violently as thick red, blood poured from his leg.
It is said that a person can live without air for a matter of four minutes. The two unwilling slaves held on for at least that long before Trave let out one last choking sound and fell, limp and lifeless to the floor.
Roy unwound his chain quickly with shaking hands and fell away from the slave-owner. He forced his erratic breathing to slow and with a hiss of pain, pressed a stray article of clothing to his wound. The stark white cloth began to turn bright red, the color of fresh blood. Once the seeping flow of life-blood had begun to lessen, he tied another cloth around his thigh as a makeshift bandage. The auburn-haired teen lay there, breathing deeply and turned his head and gaze to his ex-Prince by Trave's body.
Marth was stilly lying beside Trave's still-warm corpse. His hair was disheveled and his eyes were closed, a nasty purple bruise forming around one. His chest rose and fell with his deep, ragged breathing. The chain that bound his wrists was still wrapped around Trave's throat. Slowly, he sat up and unwound it, taking extra care to make sure that he didn't touch the vile murdered man any more than was absolutely necessary. Once he was free, Marth stumbled to his feet and walked over to where Roy was. He sat down next to him, getting himself under control.
"Are you… okay?" He asked, looking at the bloody bandage.
Roy's fire flared up and he glared at Marth.
"Of course I'm not okay, dammit! What do you think?!" He growled spitefully. "Now how can I get out of here with my leg like this?!"
Before Marth even had a chance to answer, the door slid open with an ominous creak…
Gwen, the frightened slave-girl stood there, her eyes fixated on the carnage laid before her, the blood, the knife and the dead body.
"W-what… happened?" She whispered, voice wavering. Her large eyes were impossibly wider.
Roy looked at her incredulously.
"What, are you sad that he's dead?"
Gwen shook her head, her too-thin frame trembling.
Marth looked at the slave-girl intently, taking in her state with just a glance. Wordlessly, he pushed himself up and walked over to her, looking down into her blue eyes softly, yet commanding.
"You know the way out of here, you will lead us the most inconspicuous way possible. Do you understand?" He asked.
Gwen nodded, looking up at Marth with her wide eyes. She turned to the door.
"Hurry, before others get suspicious."
Marth turned and walked over to where Roy was lying on the floor and quickly slung the disabled ex-General onto his back.
"W-what are you doing?!" Roy gasped with surprised, half in shock and half in pain.
Gwen stepped out into the hall to check it for people, then came back in after a few minutes. She seemed to have more courage then she had before.
"Not many people are up yet… And since Master hasn't given, nor will give them orders, they have no need to. I can get you out the back of the manor to the stables. You'll be on your own from there… Can you deal with the gate guards with these?" She produced the very same bundle that that had been given to Trave from Allen the slave trader. Their swords, armor and a few other possessions were still in there, along with the gold pieces, surprisingly enough.
"I managed to get this out of Master Trave's rooms…" She said, handing it to Marth.
Marth nodded and took it from her. "We'll be fine. Just get us out of the manor." He fished around in the bundle and brought out a few gold pieces, which he handed to Gwen.
"For your help," he told her. "Get out of here as soon as you can."
Gwen stared at the money for a second before pocketing it.
"Follow me," she beckoned them out into the hall.
Marth tightened his grip on the bundle and shifted Roy's position on his back before following her.
Gwen tiptoed down the halls, Marth carrying Roy right behind her. She led them through several dark and deserted corridors. Fortunately they never chanced upon any other slaves or guards. Finally, they emerged at the stables.
"This is where I leave you," Gwen said. "May the gods give you luck on your journey."
Marth nodded and Gwen vanished back into the house. He turned and looked around. There were several fine horses in the stable. They could steal two to escape quickly, but it would be much harder to remain unnoticed. He hesitated a moment, trying to decide what to do.
"Horses…" Roy whispered in his ear. He moved in such a way that showed Marth that he wanted to be let down. "If you intend to stay with me after we get out of here, by horseback is the only way I can travel in this condition."
Marth set Roy down on the ground and ran a practiced eye over the horses. One in particular stood out, a tall dappled grey stallion. It looked strong, but fast enough to make a quick getaway. He led the horse out and put a bridle on it, not bothering with a saddle. The ex-Prince opened the bundle and drew out his sword along with Roy's. Turning around, he saw that Roy was already mounted on a black mare that was a bit smaller than his grey. The boy-General was looking impatiently at Marth. Marth handed Roy his sword silently and slung the bundle on his back before getting on his own horse.
Without a word, the general urged his horse on with his good leg, taking off into a fast gallop out of the stable. The lean mare was just as fast as he predicted and he reached the gate in no time.
The guards shouted at him, but before they could draw their own swords, he cut them down with his. Once they were down, it was only a matter of seconds before he maneuvered the horse alongside the gate and opened it just enough for a horse to go through.
The teen looked back and saw Marth come up beside him. He sat tensely on his mare's back, breathing deeply and ignoring the blood running down his leg.
"Let's just go…"
Marth nodded and spurred his tall grey stallion into a gallop with Roy right beside him, leaving the manor and Trave far behind him.
~~~~~~~~
Marth and Roy rode for a long time to get as far away from the manor that had been their hell. They rode until the horses' coats were white with lather and they were beginning to stumble.
A thick wood was where they finally decided to stop. A small well-hidden clearing set next to a swift stream provided an excellent camp for the night. Marth dismounted and led the sweaty grey over to a tree to tie him up. He didn't let him drink from the cold stream right away, lest he colic.
He looked over at Roy, who had done the same.
"How is your wound?" He asked quietly, ignoring his own swollen eye.
"I don't know," the teen answered curtly, limping over to the stream. "I'll have to look at it."
Roy sat down next to the water and began to unwrap the bloody cloth from around his thigh. The wound had begun to clot, slowing the blood flow, but a filmy, yellow layer had formed over it. Roy looked at it in disgust, scooped up a handful of water and began to clean it. He glanced at Marth,
"I've had worse. It's nothing that'll kill me."
"I'm aware of that," Marth replied in his monotone voice. He turned and led his grey and Roy's black, which were now sufficiently cooled down, over to the stream to drink.
As they drank, Marth noticed that as the sun sank, the air grew colder. Winter was coming- this did not bode well for the two escapees. The exiled Prince set his face into a grim mask of ice. They would think of something…
He turned back to find that Roy had re-bandaged his leg using a strip of cloth from his shirt. The boy-general was lying on the ground, his scantily clad body shivering just a bit. Marth tethered the horses again, allowing them enough rein to graze, and sat down a little ways away from Roy. He glanced at the goy-general once, then looked down as his still chained-and-shackled wrists.
"If we sleep next to each other, we'll be warmer," he said softly.
Roy gave him a look, seeing if Marth had any ulterior motive, then decided that Marth had spoken the truth. He crawled the short way to Marth's side, wincing when he moved his wounded leg excessively. The teen curled up on the ground next to Marth, just barely touching him. He was asleep before he could even think that he would regret sleeping this close to the ex-Prince in the morning.
Xan: Well, how was that? No more torture, at least for the time being. *sniff sniff* It is a pity to kill off Trave tho… he was such a fun character…
Vallen: *cheers* Whooo-hooo! Ding dong, the Trave is dead, the wicked- Alright, I'll stop. *looks around nervously* heh… You guys will get a lot more "Marth and Roy alone time" in the next few chapters… We've got to work on that relationship of theirs… Tell us what you think!