Disclaimer: I don't own Gil or anyone else whose name pops up from DK.
The prisoner slept.
He had been in this cell for three years. He knew the place in the corner that was comfortable enough to sleep in.
Of course, he wasn't always in his cell. The guards 'loved' him too much to keep him there all the time.
The prisoner's long purple hair was his only blanket, and he wrapped it around himself as much as he could. It had been too long since he had looked in a mirror; he had to think about it every day to remember that his eyes were golden. His skin was tan, but one could hardly tell that under all the scars. The prisoner didn't wake as the door to his cell swung open.
"Up, Sleeping Beauty!" barked the guard, slamming his foot into the prisoner's side. The prisoner yelped, his eyes opening blearily. The guard seized his hair and yanked him to his knees. The young man cried out in pain, grabbing his hair and trying to pull it out of his tormentor's grasp. Instead, the guard began dragging him out the door by it. Finally the prisoner forced himself to his feet and managed to keep the pain from his hair to a minimum.
He was dragged into a large room, the guard's mess hall. In this prison, there were twenty guards altogether. Most were young and slender, but the rest were huge, bearish, and incredibly sadistic. Of course, the younger ones also enjoyed having fun with their captive 'lover.'
The prisoner was thrown into a corner. Shackles, fastened by long chains to the wall, were put on his wrists so that he couldn't go anywhere. The guards began to eat, occasionally throwing food to the prisoner. He ate it, even though the floor was filthy. At least, he ate the pieces he could reach. One of the guards' favorite games was to throw the food just far enough that the prisoner couldn't quite reach it.
After a time, several of the guards came to the prisoner and knelt in front of him.
"What shall we do today? Keep him chained for the bondage effect, or drag him out in the middle and we'll all have a go?" one cackled. The others began yelling for the three to bring the prisoner to the middle.
The chained youth cowered in the corner. He hated 'the middle' more than when they left him chained. They grabbed his arms, unlocked the chains, and dragged him to the middle of the mess hall. The prisoner curled up in a ball as they dropped him. In a matter of seconds, the first man approached him.
"Come on, pretty little kitten, open up for your old friend," he mocked, smirking as his comments brought a round of laughter from the surrounding guards. Suddenly the bearish man pounced on the prisoner and forced him to lay flat. The youth yelled and struggled; no matter how many times they did this, he never could just lie there and take it. His tormentor held him down and grinned at his audience.
"How do I start, do you think?" he asked, pretending to think hard. A voice came from the crowd.
"Kiss him, hard! Make him submit!" it called. The man laughed.
"All righty then! Open your mouth, boy." He growled as the prisoner clamped his mouth shut. His tormentor easily forced his mouth open, however, and shoved his tongue in. The prisoner screamed and thrashed frantically, why did they do this…he wished he could remember who he was, why he was here, who these people were…
A hand went behind his head and grabbed his hair close to his scalp, forcing his head back and his body up. He cried out in pain, earning another round of laughter. His molester attacked the captive's throat with his lips and tongue, to the entertainment of the other guards. The prisoner screamed, struggled, fought with every last bit of strength in his lithe body, but his molester was stronger…
"STOP IT!" The voice rang out, causing total and utter silence. The man tormenting the prisoner sat up, still straddling his victim.
"Who said that?" he growled. A man stepped out of the shocked crowd. The prisoner looked at him. He'd never seen him before.
"I did. Get off of him. He's not a toy," the new person snarled. The man on top of the prisoner leaned down and ran a slow trail of saliva up the prisoner's bare torso, earning a shiver of revulsion and fear.
"Make me," he taunted. Suddenly he was dead, his head completely separated from his body. The new man stood, his sword dripping onto the already dirty floor. The prisoner scrambled out from underneath the dead body, fear and shock stamped on his once-beautiful features.
"Anyone else want to have a go at the prince?" the new man snapped. The prisoner stared up at him. Prince?
The man was tall, young, with blonde hair that fell into his flashing green eyes. The prisoner was brought out of his thoughts by his rescuer putting away his sword and picking him up.
"My Prince…what have they done to you?" the man murmured. The prisoner could only stare at him.
"Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Another man had stepped out of the crowd and was headed for the new man, who snarled, sounding almost animalistic.
"I'm taking my Prince home. My name is Lykouleon, and I am the First Knight in King Laamgarnus' kingdom. Now back off or I'll kill you all for what you've done to my Prince!" he shouted. The prisoner clung to him…perhaps now he could get away…
Lykouleon threw some dust onto the floor, and suddenly he was standing, holding the prisoner, in a thick wood. Setting his charge down softly, the Knight cupped his Prince's face in his hands.
"Prince Gil? Please, baby, say something," he begged softly. The prisoner stared at him. Say something? Could he even speak anymore?
Lykouleon was kissing him. Desperately, not full of lust, but almost harshly…
The prisoner pulled away, scrambling backward. Lykouleon caught him easily and held him tightly as he squirmed.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't think, come on Gil, please…" Lykouleon sounded so desperate, but the prisoner…Gil?…was still afraid. What if his beautiful savior only wanted his body, like the guards had?
"Gil, please. I'm sorry I took so long to find you," Lykouleon whispered. Gil looked up at him, wide-eyed.
"G…guh…Gih…Gil?" he stammered out suddenly. Lykouleon's eyes widened.
"Don't you…remember?"
"Nuh…no," Gil said quietly. His power of speech was coming back quickly. For the first year of his imprisonment, all his voice had been for was begging and screaming.
After that, only screaming.
"God…what did he do?" Suddenly Lykouleon was shaking him harshly, and Gil yelped.
"Who?" he managed to get out. Lykouleon stopped and pulled his Prince close.
"I shall tell you," he whispered. Gil reached out and picked up a leaf, which he began to twirl in his fingers.
"You are Prince Gil of Draqueen. Your father, King Laamgarnus, was at war with King Nadil of Kainaldia, across the sea. Your father won, three years ago. The very next night after the surrender treaty had been signed, you disappeared from your room. There were many signs of a struggle, and a note was on your bed. It told us that Nadil had taken you, and he would be sure to hurt you beyond repair. The whole kingdom grieved; there was no indication of where you had been taken. I…searched for so long…" Lykouleon wiped his eyes hurriedly.
"You found me," Gil said simply. Lykouleon gave a watery smile.
"Yes, but…"
"You saved me."
"Yes, but…Gil, look at what they were doing to you!" Lykouleon's voice was pained. Gil smiled humorlessly.
"I'll…I'll live. Now tell me something, so I can understand."
"Anything."
"What was our relationship? You said you were my father's Knight, but I don't think even loyalty goes this far." Gil watched Lykouleon's face intently. They stared at each other for a long time.
"We were newly lovers," Lykouleon finally said quietly. Gil smiled again and closed his eyes.
"Thought so." And he was asleep.