Disclaimer: I do not own Marth, Roy or Altea. Any other characters are mine and mine alone if u wish to use them ask me first.
Note: this story will be violent cause that is how I write. If u have any problems with that please do not read my story and complain.
If you were outside and looking up at the palace of Altea you would've thought that there was nothing amiss. However, inside the Grand Hall two guards of the new King roughly grabbed their ex-prince's arms and began to lead him out the great oak doors and down to the palace jail cells.
"You won't get away with this Jagaren!" yelled the ex-prince, Marth who fixed King Jagaren with one of his bone chilling, icy glares, which went perfectly with his sapphire blue hair.
The new King of Altea inwardly cringed when he caught the full blast of Marth's glare. Jagaren gave Marth a look of utter confusion," I must correct you, dear Marth, on two things. First there is nothing to get away with and second I am now King Jagaren, Ruler of all Altea. You my boy, are the exiled Prince Marth, soon to be slave." The king hid a smile at those words and nodded for the guards to take Marth away. "That damned 15 year old prince was to much trouble" thought Jagaren.
The exiled prince said nothing more as he was led away to his cell. He pushed down to the ground and held there by one of the guards. He heard the cell door click shut behind the other. Rough hands locked Marth's hands behind his back with cuffs. The man pulled Marth into a standing position by his hair. Marth looked coolly into his captor's eyes and gave him a look of pure contempt. The guard backhanded Marth. Marth hit the ground with a thud and hid breath left him.
"Hahaha. Good one Ero," said the smaller of the two guards.
"Thanks Tout," replied the stronger and bigger of the two.
Marth struggled to regain his breath. After a few seconds he managed to control his breathing for the most part and caught the guards' names. He felt blood flowing freely from the wound on his lip that he had acquired when the guard called Ero had hit him. He sat up and as soon as he did he regretted it. He felt a sharp pain in his stomach and was knocked down yet again. For the second time in less than five minutes his breath left him.
"Sweet kick Tout," said Ero as he moved over so that he was standing over the ex-prince. He put a heavily booted foot on top of Marth's chest and started to push down slowly.
Marth was fighting desperately to breathe. The pain was gradually increasing. Then he felt another pain in his stomach and he would've screamed but he couldn't find the breath to be able to scream. The second booted foot had found the spot wear a new bruise was forming from the kick he had received just moments before. His cuffed hands weren't helping much either. The second foot had caused the cuffs to dig deeply into the ex-prince's wrists and back allowing more blood to seep onto the floor. Marth was beginning to see double and he saw colors that shouldn't have been there. Then he realized something… his feet were still free. Summoning up whatever strength he had left he swung his legs up in an arch so that his feet slammed into the back of one of his tormentors.
Tout was to absorbed in creating his ex-prince's pain to notice anything, so when a force came slamming into his back he was caught completely off guard. Tout gave a scream of shock as he was hurled into Ero. Both guards tumbled to the ground in an undignified heap. Ero pushed Tout off of him and got up, his anger soaring.
Marth lay there gasping for breath. His vision was clearing and he saw movement in the corner of his cell. A boy not much younger than himself with auburn red hair moved toward him. Marth recognized him as the High General of Altea who went by the name of Roy and was only a year younger than himself. But Marth was in to much pain to wonder why Roy was down here too.
Roy had been watching the whole thing from his corner of the cell. He had recognized the Prince immediately. His blue hair was a dead give away. Roy then realized that the only reason Prince Marth would be down here and treated like this was if he was either exiled or over run by another Kingdom. He highly doubted the second option. He watched silently as Marth expertly kicked the guards off of himself and decided it was time to step in. He went over and grabbed the ex-prince's bounds arms with his own bound hands and dragged him over to the corner. Both guards had completely recovered and walked over to the two prisoners.
"Your lucky we ain't allowed to hurt ye two exiles," growled Ero. He backhanded Roy sending him to the ground and stomped off. Tout, not wanting to be left alone with the two warrior exiles, gave a rough kick to Marth's side and left locking the door behind him.
Marth had by now fully gained control of his breathing again and was glaring daggers at the retreating form of the man. He turned to Roy," Thanks for pulling me away from those… men."
" 'Twas no problem. You handled them quite well, you really didn't need me to do anything." Roy wiped the blood that was slowly trickling down his face from his lip. He bent over Marth, who was still lying down, attempting to take a look at his wounds but had his hands swatted away by the ex-prince.
"I am fine. I don't need any help," came the remark from Marth's slightly swollen lips. "I just need a little rest." With that said Marth got up and went over to his own corner and fell into a light sleep. As did Roy.