A/N: Happy B-day elyador (july 2)!

This is a freestanding story, and it's VERY AU. I'd like you to think of this like the story "Precious Gift", that's the amount of AU it is, kay? And, being AU it's also OOC.

This was supposed to be darker, but the characters didn't comply and it became rather fluffy instead. I will have to blame Red X for that, because, without him, this might have gone in another direction… but, that said, this is SLADIN X, though not very graphically so… more "pre-SladinX"… you'll see… ;)

SET UP:

I need to do a quick set-up for this story or you'll all go "WTF?": so, this challenge involved the characters having wings. I normally scoff at the fan fiction where the characters sprouts wings all over the place, *cough*Harry-Potter-creature-fics*cough* so I immediately knew that I wanted to create a world where the people NATURALLY had wings, having evolved for a bird-ancestor instead of a ape-like one, if you will… so they have. There are some other differences, but they are mostly internal, so if you just picture humans with wings you'll be fine… ;)

To Fly Like an Eagle

"The war prisoners are ready for inspection, Lord Eagle," the young man bowed, wings sweeping the floor.

"Oh, Red… so formal? And that while you must still have the taste of my cock in your mouth?" the lord in question smirked and rose from the low-back chair he was sitting on, his own wings stretching before falling back into a relaxed position.

"Well, you did say that insolence was only cute until you tired of it and had to snap my neck," the Red-shouldered Hawk shrugged. "And I like my neck."

"It's too flexible to snap. All of you are," the Golden Eagle snorted good-humouredly. "Now let's go see our new citizens shall we?" He rose and straightened his white loin-cloth, which long front and back panels were embroidered with gold thread. The same embroidery continued on the man's top, a sleeveless shirt, which looked more like a chest piece as it was constructed to be fastened around the neck and at the back, somewhat like a cut-off apron, leaving room for the wings.

The young man was dressed similarly, although his clothes were a deep green and the many panels attached to his loincloth were so long that they almost swept the floor, creating the illusion of a straight skirt. Instead of a top he wore a large fan-shaped metal necklace enameled in greens reds and blues, but the gold embroidery was missing. They both wore leather string sandals, which were just enough to protect their feet from the heat of the flagstones outside.

The prisoners were few, no more than a hundred or so, because the war, or rather skirmish, had been a small one. The large birds of prey, ruled by their Golden Eagle were not always popular among the smaller birds. Most of those were peaceful, though, and didn't mind being ruled, but there were always exceptions, like the crow-families. And smaller raptors were always itching to pick a fight as well, which meant that a large part of the group kneeling in the dust in the large city square at the moment belonged to the smaller hawk and falcon clans.

There was one very obvious exception, however, and the king's single eye picked it out immediately.

"Little song birds fight now?" he asked, fascinated, as he stopped in front of a young man. His chest was painted in a splash of rust red, and his wings, bound as his hands and feet, where a bluish grey, the undersides more a light tan to off-white color. The young man's eyes were a startling blue and his hair was black, very dark for his species.

"And who do we have here?" the king continued.

"Robin," the prisoner answered boldly, with a growl in his voice.

"I recognize your coloring, I was asking for your name," the king said firmly.

"I think his name is Robin, My Lord. The naming tradition-" the Red-shouldered Hawk began.

"Ah, I see… you wear that name as a symbol of your people? So young? Impressive."

"I'm their warrior," the young man claimed, still neither his voice nor eyes were even as much as wavering.

"Considering who you are, aren't you their only one?" the king smirked. "As I said, since when does little song birds fight?"

"Robins are feisty, My Lord," the hawk cut in with a little, not unfriendly, grin at the prisoner.

"So we are," the prisoner smirked back.

"Well, I hope it was worth it," the king chuckled and walked to a small podium where all the prisoners would be able to see him. "Warriors!" he began, his strong voice easily carrying, almost booming, across the open area. "You have been brought here today as prisoners of war. As by the rules of this realm your lives now belong to us, the victors, for one year. You will work our fields and our mines, you will cook our food and you will serve us, and when the year is up you will be set free to return to your homes if you so wish. You will toil with no compensation except food and a place to sleep, but you will not be badly treated unless you give your supervisors a reason to. If you work well your masters might even reward you with a small monetary gift on the day of your freedom. Know that the next year will not be one of humiliation. Now you are humiliated; warriors bound and forced to kneel in the dirt, but as you are collected by your new supervisors and allowed to stand, that humiliation ends. You brought war to our borders and you will now repay us with a year of your life, as we would if you were the victors. If you honor the law you will be offered citizenship at the end of your sentence, but if you do not; if you rebel, if you fight your supervisors, if you won't work to the best of your ability… you will be sent home in shame, without your wings."

A sort of sigh went through the crowd. They were all very familiar with the laws, they had all seen, or heard stories of, former prisoners who had behaved dishonorable and been mutilated for their crimes, but the thought of having your wings removed, even if it sometimes were done while the prisoner was unconscious, was horrible. Unthinkable. Even the skin on the hawk's arms prickled at the very idea, and the king's voice was grim, like he the very words he was speaking tasted vile.

"I hope," the king continued, "that you will not shame yourselves like that. You will now be given water and soon you will be collected. Have patience. Those of you in need of healing will be taken to get medical attention. If you have family and friends among the other prisoners, fear not, you will be able to find them again, our records are immaculate, as long as you give your correct names. I will leave you now. May your shame end soon."

Robin stared down on the dirty flagstones in front of him and swallowed. A year. He knew the rules as well, of course, he had grown up with them, but it seemed such a long time to be away from the forest, especially since he had already been away for three months. Maybe he'd get lucky and end up on a field or something at least… because the mines the king had mentioned… the young bird shuddered. He didn't think he would survive being so far from the sky. His wings, which always had a will of their own, strained against the ropes as he thought about it, like they wanted to escape, with or without him. Robin drew a deep, calming, breath however; he knew he would have to wait.

If only his reasons for being here would have been somewhat defendable, but when he thought back to the crooked paths which had led him here today, he wanted to shake his head at himself. He had been sent out by his village to see what he could do about the logging which had been going on in their southern forests for far too long, but, as he was making inquiries he had been caught up with people from some other clans who were very angry, about different things, it seemed, and were adamant that the current rule should stop whatever it was. All their tales of injustice and revenge had, Robin admitted it though he was very ashamed of it, set his own sense of right and wrong ablaze and, suddenly, he was in a fight. It wasn't his first. No matter what the raptors seemed to think, small birds could fight rather viciously, and was taught to do so from an early age. They just very seldom organized themselves and went to war, because they weren't greedy, or, perhaps, very ambitious. As long as there was room and food, why fight? But Robin had gotten a taste for it, because, it turned out, he was incredibly good at it. He was short and slender, and his opponents were large and clumsy, making them easy targets for the wooden staff he had picked up, as he didn't like the more lethal weapons.

One small fight had led to another and then his little group had joined this small army and… well… the last thing Robin remembered was something hard, a stone from a sling, most likely, ricocheting off a shield and hitting him in the head. He had woken up bound but all right, with only a headache and a bruise, and both were gone now in the time it had taken to march to this city; The Nest, or just 'Nest', the capital of the vast raptor kingdom. And now he would lose a year as well. Things couldn't get much worse, now, could they?

A pair of feet, clad only in sandals, suddenly came into his field of vision. They were much too clean to belong to anyone else but nobility, and Robin looked up again, curiously.

"Hello, little Robin, you are coming with me," the kind smiled, or rather leered.

"Um… I am?" the young man gaped.

"The proper address should be 'My Lord', 'My King' or 'Your Royal Highness'," the hawk, somewhat snootily, but with glittering eyes, informed him.

"I… I'm sorry My Lord," Robin, who remembered that thing about chopped wings, mumbled. "I'm going to work for you?"

"Yes. We'll find you something to do…" the king grinned.

After the ropes had come off and he had given his personal information to a notary of some kind and then signed a few papers, Robin was taken deeper into the city. They were going by foot, and the young man's wings were itching for flight, but, on the other hand, this way he got time to really study what was supposedly to become his new home. He didn't like it much. He was used to trees, and this was all rock. It was stunning in a way, he supposed, but so… dead. The scale of it all was the most awe-inspiring, especially as they rounded a corner and saw the royal palace. Robin thought it looked like a whole mountain.

"Not so bad, eh, kid?" the hawk asked him.

Robin looked up at him in surprise. That was not the tone of voice he had expected from the other man. As he looked closer, however, he saw that the hawk couldn't be more than a few years older than himself. He had a rather playful appearance as well, a wide mouth that seemed to want to grin or smile all the time, and sparkling green eyes with all kinds of mischief in them. His rust-colored hair was gathered in a short, messy pony tail with a leather cord. Robin's hair had grown quite a bit since he left the village but it wasn't quite that long yet. Still it was beginning to fall into his eyes, so he would need a haircut soon… it would probably be alright, after all, the King kept his hair immaculate in a short, swept back kind of look, which suited his wide face very well, even though that face was a bit scary. He was missing an eye, for starters, and wore a patch where that should be. Also he had a short cropped beard, and facial hair was something Robin had still to get used to. His own clan didn't have any, apart from lashes and eyebrows they didn't have any body hair at all apart from some between their legs. Once he entered the outside world, however, and travelled further than his clan usually went, he had begun to understand that it was they who were considered strange in that sense. And the man's beard wasn't really bad, he thought. The man really looked like a king, Robin decided, a leader. And a hunter. The smaller bird shivered a little bit, and only then remembered that he had been asked a question.

"Uh… yeah… not bad, Sir," he said politely.

"You were a long way off there," the hawk grinned and then clicked his teeth.

Robin blinked and then looked away quickly, turning his eyes straight forward as he felt his cheeks heat up. Had the hawk just… flirted with him? No, maybe clicking like that didn't mean the same thing here… maybe it was a form of teasing? Yes. Probably. Robin noticed a sort of deep, rumbling, sound now but didn't dare look to see what it was, but is sounded a bit like the king was chuckling.

Once they had entered through the gates, the king finally spread his impressive wings and rose into the air. As the hawk followed, so did Robin. The joy of flying again after so long was short-lived, however, because the others landed on a wide balcony at the very top of the building. Robin touched down lightly next to them, almost wanting to beg for some more flying time. He soon forgot about that, however, and just gaped at the redhead and the king.

"Finally home… don't get me wrong, I love hearing you speak, but couldn't you just cut it down to 'you're here for a year, don't do anything stupid'?" the hawk said, practically throwing himself down onto a daybed just inside the large painted glass doors.

"I'm king, Red, I have to act like it once in a while, you know," the white-haired eagle sighed and sank down into a very ornate, low-back chair. His wings created the impression of him sitting on a high-backed throne, however.

Robin, having stopped just inside the doors, didn't quite know what to say or do. Who were those people?

"Come here, little songbird, we won't eat you," the king gestured with his index finger.

"Oh, darn, I wanted a nibble," the hawk snickered, and Robin promptly blushed, remembering the teeth-clicking.

"Don't mind Red, he gets horny unless I fuck him at least twice an hour," the king smirked, and now Robin turned white. The hawk was the king's lover? Then why had he flirted, if that was what it was? Didn't he understand how dangerous that would be?

"What's this? Where is the little fighter-bird?" the king asked curiously. "You look like you've been sentenced to death."

"That's jealousy, probably. Don't worry, kid, there's enough of me to go around."

"I think he's afraid I won't share," the eagle smirked. "Now come closer. I won't tell you again."

Robin walked up to the chair trying to regain his self control. He felt like he was really treading deep water here, a very real fear for birds like him, but he was sure he would understand all this strangeness eventually.

"My Lord?" he asked as calmly as he could.

"Undress."

"Wh-"

"No arguments," the king's voice snapped like a whip.

"You're only wearing rags anyway," the hawk snorted, looking disdainfully at Robin's very simple, dirty and somewhat ripped loincloth.

Nakedness was something of a taboo where Robin came from. The forests were often much colder than this place, which, to him, seemed like an oven as it lay so close to the vast sand-seas, and that might have been something to do with it. Here he had seen both men and women lounging around hand-dug pools of water completely nude. He himself had had to get used to just a short loincloth when it got too warm for his regular long trousers and long-sleeved tops, but it had taken a lot of blushing to do so, and now the eagle expected him to-

"Now." The man's voice had a very tangible warning in it now and the songbird just didn't dare defy it, risking his wings. His trembling fingers undid the knots and the cloth fell away. Robin quickly pulled it in front of himself, holding it there, but that was obviously the wrong thing to do.

"Drop it," the king's order came. "When I ordered you to undress it was because I wanted to see you, after all."

Robin let his garment fall and forced his hands to his sides, staring onto the floor, his face beet red.

"Aw, he's shy, Slade!" the hawk giggled.

Robin glanced up in case someone else had entered the room, but the name seemed to belong to the King.

"He shouldn't be, he's quite an exotic beauty, isn't he? Skin like honey-milk, and all but flawless. You were right to act proud, little bird; you must be a good fighter. Turn around for me."

The praise hadn't lessened the teen's embarrassment any, but he did as he was asked, even though the hawk thought it appropriate to whistle appreciatively.

"Lovely," the king smirked. "Red, take him to get him cleaned up. He's covered in dust and war paint."

"Should I get him something to wear as well?" the hawk asked.

"Yes," the king sighed. "I regret to say his face will probably explode if you don't. Let him have one of your things for now, will you?"

"The sexiest I have," the Red-shouldered Hawk promised and led Robin from the room.

Robin had never seen an actual bathroom before. They had outhouses in the forest and in the villages he had visited some inns had indoor facilities, but not this big, and not for bathing. In his village you washed yourself in the river when needed, but mostly a good scrub-down with the fine sand along the river's edge would do the trick. And in the winters… well, if the stank got too bad you heated some water. Once a month or so. Taking full baths, getting the wings wet as well, was always a danger, because they might get so heavy that you couldn't fly until they had dried, and if you would walk into a wild boar at a time like that there better be a good climbing tree close by.

This was something amazing, though. And slightly scary. The room was wide enough so even the king would be able to stretch his wings out fully and Robin let out a short yell of surprise when it suddenly started to rain in the furthermost area.

"Damn rurals…" the hawk snorted rather affectionately. "Not get over there while I undress."

"Into… the rain?"

"It's not rain, the water is led here in pipes and then the pipes has little holes in them, see?" the hawk pointed.

"Oh." Robin curiously got closer and reached a hand into the curtain of water, which was drizzling down, just like it did back home in spring. Man-made rain… That was something. Wait, had the hawk said he was getting naked too? Yes, he had, the song-bird discovered a moment later when he was pushed completely under the spray.

"Sorry, but we don't have all day. I'm Red, by the way, nice to meet you. Mostly because of the hair, I might add, not my clan… it's a bit of a lucky combination.."

Robin, who had never expected to be this close to another naked person until his first nesting-night, was more than a little stunned. He didn't need to talk, however, the hawk did that for the both of them.

"Slade, that's the king, likes informality in private. I'm sure you'll be allowed to call him Slade, that's his birth name, by the way, as well, just as long as you address him properly in public, of course." As he was talking he had produced something gooey that smelled wonderfully like flowers and was rubbing that into Robin's skin, creating bubbles. Amazed the teen touched the foam. The smell reminded him of home, and he loved it. He wondered if it tasted as good as it-

"No, don't eat the soap, what are you, retarded?" the hawk, Red, scoffed.

"It smelled so good!" Robin objected.

"Yes, well, it's not for eating. We'll eat soon, okay?"

"Sorry, Sir."

"No sir-ing in here, I told you. It's Red."

"Sorry, Red."

"Yeah, whatever, let's just get this muck off you, alright?"

It helped having someone to clean your wings, but it also had some dire consequences, especially as the hawk rubbed the spot between the young bird's shoulder-blades, an area which was so very sensitive, as it was a hard place to reach. Robin let out a breathy moan and then, to his mortification felt himself harden.

"Aw, look at that… I'd love to- but the king would object… probably… ah well… not to worry, Robin, it's perfectly natural," the redhead said, standing much too close behind the smaller bird.

"Don't look at me!"

"But, I can't help it, beautiful," the hawk leered.

"Don't call me that!" Robin hissed, his pride hurt rather badly by now.

"Oh, now don't have a fit, you have to pay attention to what I'm doing, or you won't be able to help our king wash," Red said.

"I'm… what?"

"That will be part of your duties, I'm sure. Now, make sure he's really clean down here…"

Robin yelped as his member was suddenly caressed with a hand full of soap. "Peel the skin back like this, and don't forget the balls," the hawk continued like he hadn't noticed the smaller bird's obvious discomfort. "Or the ass."

"AAH!"

"But don't slip a finger in like I just did, he'll be grumpy for hours if you do that. Just a sweep or two will do. And then you're done."

Robin was done, alright. He was on the verge of breaking straight through the closest wall to freedom, honor be damned. He had spun around and backed away, standing gaping at the man who had just touched him in that place, clutching his own behind like he needed to check if it was still there.

"Oh, don't look at me like that. Let's rinse you off and get you dressed," the hawk chuckled. It was probably the young man's joking and easy attitude that made Robin eventually move again. At all.

He was wrapped in soft, thick cloth, one for his body, a smaller one for his hair, which had also been thoroughly washed, and one huge one for each wing. The material would have been a thing of wonder back home but was here only used to dry off on, and then left on the floor.

"The servants will pick those up," Red said. "Come along."

"But… Red, aren't we the servants?" Robin asked.

"We're hardly the cleaning staff," the hawk snorted. "Let's find you something to wear."

Robin perked up a bit at hearing that, and, with one of those 'towels', as Red had told him they were called, wrapped around his hips, he followed the other young man to a nearby room.

"Isn't it a bit too… small?" Robin asked nervously and pulled at the cloth covering, or rather only half covering, his rear end.

"It's perfect. Trust me. And the blue matches your eyes, it's very pretty."

"I don't want to look pretty!" the black-haired teen objected.

"And I don't want to look drop dead gorgeous, but we both are failing miserably. Let's go see Slade."

"Like this?"

"Or you could go naked? He'd probably like that…?" Red suggested.

Robin considered his options and decided that showing half his cheeks was better than wearing nothing at all.

"Ah, there you are, I was afraid that you were off having fun without me," the king said as they entered the room.

"We both missed you terribly the whole time," Red claimed as he walked up to the man and, leaning his head back, begged for and received a kiss. Robin had seen people kiss before, even men, but this was definitely more indecent and involved a lot more groping and moaning than the other couples he had encountered. Well, apart from that pair of newly-nested he happened to fly over once, but he was pretty sure that what had been going on in that meadow was a bit more than kissing, from the way they had moved. He had looked away quickly back then and did so now as well, just waiting for it to be over, wondering if there was something he was supposed to do.

"Red has filled you in on a few things, I suppose?"

Robin jumped as he hadn't been prepared for the king's voice, and especially not coming from right in front of him.

"I… yes, Sir? A bit?" he said carefully.

"Good. Then call me Slade in private. I have arranged for some food; let's go into the dining room."

"You have a room just for eating?" Robin asked, his curiosity winning over his insecurity.

"Pfft… we have a breakfast-room as well," the hawk grinned, but that, the robin decided, just had to be a joke.

"We'll give you a tour later," the eagle decided. "Hmmm… I like what you are wearing, it really brings out your… eyes," he added.

"See? Told you so," Red smiled.

Robin felt a little better, even though it didn't seem that the king was looking at his eyes at all.

The dining room had a large table in it that seated around ten, but there were only three chairs at it now, the rest of them were arranged against one wall.

"This is the king's private quarters. If he entertains a larger party one of the dining halls downstairs are used," Red explained. As the table probably couldn't have fitted into Robin's home even turned on its side, it almost made the young bird snort.

"I didn't know what to order, so I chose a little of everything," Slade said and gestured to the table which looked like it was wishing for sturdier legs as I was weighed down by trays and large clay pots.

The songbird had never seen so much meat in one place before. His clan did trap game, but usually smaller animals, and favored insects during the summer months. Sometimes they traded for larger pieces of meat, especially as, once dried, it kept well during winter, but so, of course, did nuts and seeds.

"Um… is there any bread?" he asked as he didn't think his stomach would be able to manage this kind of diet.

"Bread? What kind of animal is that?" the king asked.

"He's joking, look under that cloth," the hawk chuckled.

Robin did, and his mouth watered. This was more up his alley, and the hot, freshly baked bronzed buns smelled delicious. In the end he also had a bit of what was called beef, and a slice of what Red claimed was fish, but judging by the size of the slices it must have been enormous. In the shallow river back home they never grew very big and were hardly worth the effort to catch.

To drink there was lovely cold water and an assortment of fruit juices. Some of them smelled funny, almost like they had gone bad, and Robin tried to stay away from them. Red was adamant that he'd try some, though, and out of respect, he did, grimacing at the sour taste.

"Speaking about bread, we're going to inspect the granaries tomorrow," Slade said.

Robin looked up, wondering if this was a job for him, still thoroughly confused about not being given any real tasks yet.

"Boring," the hawk muttered. "I'll set up a schedule," he then added in the resigned voice of a man who knows that a job needs to be done. "Will we fly?"

"I was thinking of bringing Robin, I'm not sure he'll manage-" the eagle began.

"I'll manage! I'll manage, Sir, I promise! Please, I haven't really stretched my wings in so long!"

"Very well, then… account for extra time," Slade instructed Red, making the songbird clench his teeth. He'd show these raptors what flying was all about.

"Are we done? Then come, I would like to work for an hour or two before bed," Slade said and stood up.

"Yes, I need to do that schedule," Red said, standing as well.

Robin, who had already shot to his feet, looked down on the table.

"Um… should I clean up?" he asked.

"Nope, that's the cleaning staff again," Red grinned.

"You look tired. Red will show you the bedroom," the king told him.

"Thank you… but…"

"Yes?"

"Will you please show me what you want me to do tomorrow?" Robin asked.

The raptors glanced at each other and smiled.

"All in good time, pretty bird, but yes, we'll start your training tomorrow," the king promised.

Robin felt a sense of relief. He had always had a purpose, and that purpose, whether it was as a gatherer, a hunter or a warrior, had always been closely connected to his sense of self. He was looking forward to having a purpose again.

The bedroom was dominated by a huge, frameless bed in the middle of the room, but there were also chairs and daybeds spread out around it. Almost every clan had their own preferred way to sleep. Some sat up, huddled together, something Robin was used to in the winters. For the summers, however, there was nothing as relaxing as finding a wide, horizontal branch to straddle. As the teen looked up, there, under the very high ceiling, there were wooden logs suspended just for that purpose. He was very sleepy, however, and not entirely sure he would be relaxed enough to sleep like that tonight, so he decided to indulge himself and sleep on his stomach in the bed. It was a silly position for a song-bird do sleep in, a very dangerous one, which his elders had always warned him, as he made himself more vulnerable to predators that way, but Robin had always loved sleeping like that on soft summer meadows.

He crawled onto the bed, which only had sheets and no covers in the heat, and was out like a light almost immediately.

He woke up hours later to feel other bodies around him, one on each side. This was, again, nothing new to him, but there was a lot more skin to skin contact than he was used to. He felt himself falling back to sleep, however, and just let out a soft sigh, feeling strangely content.

A hand was caressing his hip, stroking it, and, it seemed, working on the knot holding his loincloth up. Another one was sliding up between his wings, making his body tingle. Robin startled awake from what he had thought was a dream, but as he opened his eye they met green, glittering ones.

"Morning pretty… ready to begin your training?"

"Wh- what?" Robin asked, sleepy and confused.

"Don't be scared, we're just going to find out how much of a seed-eater you really are," the hawk grinned.

"Red!" Slade's voce snapped from Robin's other side.

"Oh, it's okay, he's rural, he has no idea what it means," the hawk grinned.

But Robin did. He had been called the word so many times while travelling, and he had understood that it had a double meaning, In the end he had asked, or rather forced, a buzzard to explain it to him.

"I'm not a-! I'm not one of those!" he exclaimed and got his arms under him, trying to get off the bed. There were heavy arms over him, however, and they tightened as he struggled.

"Shhh… Red was just being rude," the king hushed. "You are not a common whore, but, to be frank, what kind of use did you think we'd have of you?"

"I can do a lot of things! I can make traps, and track, and weave grass and my roasted honey-ants are the best in the village, and-"

"Yeah, well, it's not like we need any of those skills, kid," Red grinned.

"I can learn new ones!"

"You are about to," the king purred and pulled the songbird closer, turning him around a bit, and catching his jaw between his fingers.

He was being kissed. That was pretty much all that registered in Robin's mind at first, and then the second thought soared up from his confused mind: being kissed was very nice. As it ended, however, he still had some things he needed to clear up.

"You… you want to nest with me?"

"Yes."

"For… a year?"

"At least. But you have the right to leave then, of course," the king answered patiently, in a way that clearly said 'I'm being patient'.

"B-both of you?"

"You are mine," the king told him. "Red is mine as well. If you let him touch you is up to you, but I suggest you play together… it will strengthen the nesting-bond… and he's quite talented with his mouth if you let him."

That surely sounded interesting, Robin thought, and nodded a little bit.

"But... I can do other things as well…?" he offered, feeling that nesting with the king couldn't possibly be enough to pay off his war-debt.

"Let's get you fully trained first and then we'll see," the king chuckled and kissed him again, putting a definite end to the Q and A.

Nesting was something Robin's village approved of, and Robin was familiar with the concept if not the details. Sometimes the nest-mate or mates one took lasted a life-time but it was more common to nest together for a season or so, depending on the reasons behind it. Any reason was acceptable, from 'I like your wings' to 'we'd make great chicks together'. As chicks were raised by the whole community there wasn't really such a thing as a single parent, and therefore the pressure on the couples were lessened as well. Love was thought of as a very nice thing, but it was perfectly alright to couple with someone just from lust; in fact, the elders taught them that lust came first, love later, so why wait? Nesting with a member of one's own sex was also acceptable, although the elders usually rolled their eyes at such pairings as they were deemed to be a little bit self-indulgent. Still, indulging in something like this seemed like a very appealing idea to the song bird at the moment. He was shy about these things, though, something which had always stood in the way before, but, this time, he didn't have to take any initiatives, they were all taken for him. Firmly.

Robin's wings fluttered as he was rolled onto his back. This was the ultimate submissive position, as it trapped his wings, but every move the king made, every caress, every kiss, clearly spoke of two things; 'I know what I'm doing.' and 'Let me.' So Robin did.

"Red, bring me the oil," Slade ordered before kissing the young robin again.

"You're moving fast," the hawk commented as he did as he was told.

"He's ready. I can feel it," the king purred. "He wants it."

Robin wasn't completely sure what he wanted but he did want something, that much was clear. And he wanted it very badly. He, from that unintentional glimpse of the newly-nested couple, thought he knew that you were supposed to grind against each other, and that's what his hips wanted as well, as they rose up toward the king's body.

"Wrap your legs around my hips, that's my good little bird," Slade told him, and that made the grinding sensation even better. Something slippery slid against his ass and then what must have been a finger pushed into him, just like Red's had done before. Robin tensed and looked up at the king like he wanted to ask if he was mad, but then the finger curled and it was like a little jolt of energy ran straight for his groin and up his spine. It was like those little zaps you could get from pelts when the air was dry, Robin supposed. But bigger. And better. The finger didn't leave, and instead began moving inside him, in and out, creating a wonderful warm feeling and brushing that place inside him every time it pushed in. The teen relaxed and closed his eyes only to open them suddenly again when he was stretched a bit more by a second finger. After a bit of discomfort, however, that felt nice too.

"That's it… you are doing so well…" Slade praised him and rewarded him with another, long kiss, although Robin wasn't quite sure what he was doing to deserve it. Things got a bit more difficult with three fingers, though.

"UUghh…" he objected and tensed again.

"Kid, it's like flying… remember how much that hurt before you got used to it?" the hawk suddenly said. Robin, who had almost forgotten that he was even there, turned his eyes in his direction. Red was stretched out close by, but still out of the way, and his whole demeanor was relaxed and smiling, which eased he song-bird's fears as well.

"Yeah?" he asked with a gasp. He remembered learning to fly very well, everyone did. A chick's wings usually weren't strong enough until he or she was about eight to ten years old, but Robin had began practicing at seven, out of stubbornness. His wings, shoulders and whole back had been so sore in the beginning that he could hardly walk, but, little by little, muscles and stamina built up and now flying was the best thing he knew. Maybe this would be the second best?

"Promise…" the hawk said and reached out to caress his cheek.

Everything felt better after that and when the fingers disappeared Robin rather missed them. Something else was to take their place, however, and it took up more space than the fingers had. Robin gasped as he was stretched, but he couldn't find it in him to object anymore, something the hawk picked up on.

"Told you songbirds are natural submissives…" he smiled. His king just grunted, his mind on something more important at the moment. To be truthful, Robin seemed a bit occupied as well.

Robin had never felt a pain that he actually wanted more of before, but with this one he did. Maybe because the pain wasn't really… painful. No, he couldn't explain it; he just knew that that place inside him which the fingers had just brushed was now pummeled, and he met every thrust eagerly, clinging to the man, no, god, above him. There was no way that the king was a mere mortal when he knew how to do this… it was too fantastic! He tried telling him that, because he had been taught to show appreciation and be polite, after all, but the small sounds he managed to make didn't really sound like words. Slade, probably due to his god-like powers, seemed to understand him anyway, and sped up.

Robin had spilled his seed before, many times, although it often happened in his sleep. During the days he was usually too busy to think much about such things, there was always something that needed doing. Still, no dream could prepare him for the feeling that exploded from inside him now and he cried out as it felt like his very soul caught on fire. Maybe it was the hot rush of liquid which seemed to fill him up and leave his body at the same time, but Robin was too overwhelmed to make much sense of it at the moment.

"Time to get up."

"Hmmm?" Robin didn't even raise his head. He had fallen asleep deeply while the king was still on top of him, and didn't much feel like waking up now either.

"We're going to inspect the granaries, remember?" Red said. "And you need to get cleaned up a bit first or people will stare…"

"M'kay…" Robin mumbled and rolled over. "Owww…" he added as his behind stung and one of his wings felt like it had fallen asleep. He followed a grinning hawk slowly, looking around.

"Where is the k- Slade?"

"He's reviewing my plans, but he'll be waiting for us soon if you don't hurry."

That made Robin move faster, as fast as he could, into the bathroom again. This time, as he passed a niche in the wall, he jumped. He had just seen another bird through what must have been a window. He took a step back and there it was again. It took a few seconds for him to understand that the bird was him; it was his reflection.

Robin was not a vain young man, but he stared in fascination now as he moved his wings and turned this way and that.

"You've never seen your reflection before?" Red chuckled behind him.

"Only in water and metal," Robin answered not taking his eyes of his own, nude form. "Wow."

That made the hawk burst out laughing so hard he was clutching his stomach. "Yeah, told you that you were pretty!" he gasped.

Robin wanted to tell the other young man off again, but… yeah... he was a bit cute…

There was no time to waste however and, after showing Robin the 'indoor outhouse' as the songbird put it, Red helped him clean up with a wash-cloth and had him dressed in a somewhat more decent loincloth and a top, which the hawk laced up his back.

"This is stupid, people can't dress themselves with clothes like this," Robin commented.

"With clothes like this you show that you are rich enough to have servants to do it for you… or that you just have really good nest-mates," Red grinned and kissed his shoulder. "Besides, it looks hot, don't complain."

"No, Red," Robin smiled softly as he turned around, not wanting to argue.

"Oh, Winged Goddess, you are so adorable," the redhead said and then kissed Robin's lips, which made the young man's wings rise and quiver in surprise and delight.

"But… we don't have time to nest, do we?"

"No?" Red said.

"But you kissed me?" Robin clarified, thinking that one thing must lead to another.

"It's perfectly alright just to kiss once in a while… whenever you feel like it," Red smiled. "Now come, we have a long way to fly today."

"Good, I was just getting ready to leave," Slade said as they came into the room, and then the man looked up from the scroll he had been reading. "Aren't you two looking stunning," he smiled and rose from his chair.

Robin was feeling a little shy again, but decided to ignore that and stood on the tip of his toes to be able to give the man a small kiss.

"What was that for?" the king smiled.

"Because I was feeling like it… Slade…" the songbird replied in a tone that quivered a bit from fake bravado.

"I'm feeling like it too," Red snickered and kissed his king as well.

As they were about to leave from the balcony, Slade still had a look on his face like he was wondering if he had taken on just a bit more than he could handle.

The flight was a long one, but Robin was strong. However, flying with two birds of prey, who had larger wingspans and could soar on the thermal winds while he had to work the whole time was no picnic. There was not much talking in the air, there never was. All the air their large lungs could take in went to their muscles. The only thing they took with them was a flask of water each, and Slade had the documents in a tube strapped between his wings. Robin had once heard of a man who had flown a sick child to safety, but all birds had strict limits to what they could carry in flight and any more might be too exhausting and upset their balance too much. Weight was always a danger; you needed lots of muscles, especially in your chest and back, to fly, but, at the same time, muscle weighed. The raptors could 'afford' to be bigger and usually were, because of their large wings, but Robin had seen drawings of some incredibly slender birds with enormously long wings. They would sail over the oceans, said rarely to even beat their wings at all, and only land on sacred islands for nesting. Robin didn't know how much of it was true, but they had looked incredible.

Robins were not long-distance flyers however, and when they landed for the last inspection of the day the young man mostly wanted to go lie down in the shade. He kept going, however, because he wouldn't admit that he wasn't fit enough to travel with the meat eaters.

He and Red didn't really have much to do on the inspections, they mainly only followed Slade around, as the king was shown the place by the site's supervisor. Red had a pencil, however, and was jutting down any comments that were made about the condition of the buildings. Robin, being task less, was pretty bored by now. At first he had been amazed at the granaries, huge, round stone towers, where a single one had enough grain to feed his whole village for at least a year, probably more, but now he felt like he had seen them all. Something much more interesting caught his eye, though, and he made a quick dive for it, catching a nice, fat grasshopper. He took a bite and only then realized that people were looking at him.

"Robin…?" Slade said, sounding a bit strange.

"Yes? Oh, did you want it, Sl- My Lord?" Robin asked politely, holding out the remaining half to the man.

"No. Go ahead… feel free to assume that any bugs you see are yours to eat if you wish…" the man said and shuddered a little.

"You don't eat insects?" Robin asked Red in a hushed whisper.

"No, and definitely not raw… oh, for the love of the Goddess, could you get those legs into your mouth soon?"

"'They're, 'ust 'ery long," Robin complained as he slurped up the remainder of the grasshopper.

"Just… rinse your mouth before you kiss me, please?" the hawk mumbled, making the robin grin.

"Oh, Red, could I ask something?" he then all but whispered.

"Yeah? What?" the hawk asked, one eye and ear still on the proceedings.

"Um… I was sent out to see what could be done about the logging… could I ask Slade about that later, you think?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, but sure… but not while he's working. Tonight after dinner would be better. I always ask for personal favors after he's eaten, but before nesting…" the redhead smirked.

"Thank you!" Robin grinned and squeezed his hand for a moment in gratitude.

"What is happening here?" Slade then asked the current supervisor.

"We found cracks in the foundation, so we are moving all the grain so we can have it repaired."

"I see," Slade nodded, and they were about to move on, when a man, apparently in charge of the working-staff, barked a few rough words and then a whip hit a worker's back.

"Move it newbie, you filthy peace of crap!" the man with the whip ordered.

Robin's feather immediately stood on end at words like that, but even more so when he vaguely recognized the worker, who was ladled down by two heavy sacks of grain, looking to be weighing much more than Robin himself each.

"Hey, you can't do that!" the young songbird yelled out and had ran over to the offender before anyone had had time to stop him, ripping the whip out of his hands. "He's a war-prisoner and he's obviously doing his best! You can't treat him like that!"

Red was the first person by his side and pulled the younger bird away.

"Robin! Stop it!"

"But he's a bastard! He can't do that!" the songbird objected, too angry to care.

"You are out of line, Robin," the king said in a voce which was scary enough to at least pull the teen partly out of his anger.

"But-"

"Quiet! Overseer, what is your name?"

"Beak, Sir," the man, a buzzard, Robin thought, said. He was red in the face and looked very angry.

"This prisoner arrived yesterday? Has he been causing trouble?"

"They need to learn their place from the start, My Lord," the man said, almost proudly.

"That was not my question."

"Well… no, Sir, not as such… but we free ones, we always get dirty looks, don't we?"

"Are you telling me that you are not man enough to handle a look?" Slade said in a rather silky tone.

"Oh-uh," Red said and pulled Robin back a little. "Let's get out of the way, shall we?" he whispered to the other bird.

"Yesterday," Slade's voice now rumbled like a not-so-distant thunderstorm, and he had drawn himself up to full height which dwarfed the men around him. "Yesterday I stood in front of this man," he continued and gestured to the man with the sacks, who had, after a nod from the supervisor, put them down, "and promised him and his comrades that, as long as they worked to the best of their capabilities, they would be treated fairly and without ridicule. And this is how you receive him? How DARE you go against my word? How DARE you make me a LIAR?"

"I… I… I'm so-sorry S-Sir, I-"

"QUIET!" The order, this time, was a great deal harsher than when the man had addressed Robin, and that was saying something.

"I will see to this," the supervisor said, trying to calm the situation. "I wasn't aware of this… 'welcoming policy'."

"Make sure you do," Slade growled.

"Of course, Sir… but… I hate to say this, trust me, but your… umm… your… companion, he was, somewhat, out of line. The punishment might have been just, after all, and then the overseer's authority would have been severely damaged."

"I know," Slade said and seemed to give it some thought. "Tradition says that the offended party should deal out the punishment. However, they were both in the wrong here. But very well. Overseer Beak, you have my permission to punish Robin here for his rashness, but you are on equal grounds, giving him all right to defend himself."

"Are you saying I am to fight a little songbird?" the overseer spluttered, like Slade had presented him with a baby hamster as an opponent.

"Your king is ordering you to, yes," Slade growled.

"Yes, My Lord, I'm sorry, My Lord," the overseer gasped.

Red caught Robin's hand this time and squeezed it.

"Don't die, okay? Just don't die?" he whispered pleadingly.

"Will try," Robin mumbled back and then straightened.

"No weapons. Go." was all Slade said and then the songbird was faced with a thick-set and very angry buzzard.

The man obviously thought he could end it all in one punch and put all of his weight into it. Robin simply sidestepped, pushed the fist out of its path and spun around, slamming an elbow into the man's gut. After that the man got more careful, but, even though he knew some moves, he was not really a fighter, more like a bully, depending on his size and grim looks to not actually have to fight.

Robin cried out in disgust as the man, in one last desperate attempt to win, aimed for the young man's wings. Wings were always off limits, even in the bloodiest of wars. They were holy, in a way, and it was more acceptable to kick a man in the groin, hell, it was more acceptable to bite a man's balls off, than purposefully hurt his wings. Those were broken and maimed anyway, of course, in the commotion and horror of a battlefield, but harming another bird's wings could be punishable by death in some cases. After that move Robin's anger turned to revulsion and he didn't want to touch him even to punch him. A jump and a last, perfectly placed elbow to the man's forehead finished the fight. As his opponent crumpled to the ground, Robin slunk back to stand next to Red again, very aware of that he just had been punished.

"This man won't work here again, and I'll send Robin on surprise visits to make sure that the people here are treated fairly," Slade said. "I think that concludes our round? Good, then we'll leave. Come," he added to the youngsters, and set off.

Robin grimaced as he took to the air, his muscles feeling torn from the amount of flying he had already done, and the fight had made them tense up even more. He really struggled to keep up now, and he couldn't nearly fly as high as Slade and Red. Still he soldiered on until he suddenly realized that he couldn't see Slade anywhere and Red, if it was Red, was only a dot on the horizon. He felt a stab of panic as the city wasn't in sight yet and he didn't know his way out here. They had been going from site to site and was now going straight home, so the land under him was unfamiliar. He knew Red wouldn't hear him if he called out, but a cry was on his lips none the less, when he heard a rush of wind through feathers; someone was diving towards him from above! Before he had time to react he was grabbed by strong arms around his chest, his wings beating uselessly.

"Did I scare you?" Slade chuckled.

"Y-yes!" Robin admitted. He was let go and beat his wings furiously to regain the height they had both lost from the sneak attack.

"You look tired," the king said and took a hold of the teen's waist. "Come. Fly with me."

Suddenly Robin, helped by Slade's powerful wings, gained more height per stroke than he had ever done in his life, and then it seemed like the whole world lay under him. He even got a little sense of vertigo, but the spectacular feeling won easily. The air up here was colder, crisper, but not uncomfortable so.

"Now we soar. Keep your wings spread and my wings will carry us both," the eagle said.

"This is… I've never…" Robin stuttered. "Thank you!" he then, simply, exclaimed.

The eagle chuckled and bent his head to kiss the songbird's neck. At that moment Robin didn't care that he had just met the man, and that the circumstances leading to that meeting might not have been the best; he loved his king with all his heart.

They soared like that for what seemed like forever, and still, when the city came into view on the horizon, Robin wanted them to turn back and start all over.

"Do we have to land?" he complained.

"Want to fly with me forever?" the man teased.

"Yes!"

"Heh… yes, well we'll fly again. About what happened today, however…"

"I'm sorry!" Robin said quickly.

"No you're not."

"What?"

"You're not sorry in the least and you would do it again in an instant," Slade told him, but the man didn't sound angry, just slightly resigned.

"But-"

"If you see any injustices in the future, anything you want to speak up against in public, talk to me first," the man instructed him.

"Yes, My Lord," Robin nodded. "And I am sorry."

"Really?" the eagle said disbelievingly.

"Yeah… I should have broken his nose."

The End

A/N: First, an apology: elyador asked for an in-air-love making session, and that was planned to happen at the end there, BUT it would have completely ruined the feeling of that scene, which, I think, is a very nice one… also, the small sense of physic-laws that resides in my head and has questioned everything in this story, just shook its head when I presented the idea… I told it Slade could do it, but it didn't believe me and voted me down… ;)

Ah, this was a fun universe to dive into… for me at least… and I know SO much more about it, but I TRIED to hold back on the info a bit, and only tell you what you needed to know to understand why the characters, especially Robin in this case, acts like they do… trust me, there are enough random facts in my head to fill a book…

So, why make Slade a Golden Eagle instead of the U.S symbol, the Bald Eagle? (He has white hair, after all…) Well, the canon Slade IS an anti-hero, at BEST, so maybe the symbol of "The Land of the Free" might not be appropriate for him… besides, I like Golden Eagles better… so… yeah… it had NOTHING to do with Slade forbidding me from connecting his name to the word "bald". Nope. None whatsoever. Because I don't let the characters decide important stuff like that. –shifty eyes-

Also, I've just discovered that the bird I think of as a Robin, is in fact called "European Robin" and doesn't exist in America, where they have the American Robin, which isn't half as cute and doesn't have the aggressive 'I'm-tiny-but-I'm-gonna-beat-the-shit-outta-you' attitude that the smaller European Robin is known for (the males, that is) and that was a bit of a shock to me, to tell you the truth… but, just to take a stand here: Robin, to me, is the European one. Case closed. But, in reality, he was probably based on the "American Robin" so if you associate him with the other type, that's just fine… ;)

Oh, and I would like to add that the bird-'facts' in this story shouldn't be taken seriously, I mainly reviewed the names as I didn't know the English ones…

This is open for sequel-requests if you have an idea about what you might want to see happening in it... if not, it is finished like this.