Hi Friends!

A super thank you to everyone still reading and enjoying this story. Your reviews brighten my day!

Ohh, speaking of reviews, Zeldawolf brought up a good point in her last review about the timeline. I just wanted to make sure we are all clear that yes, Spencer has only been with Charles for roughly 6 months (give or take time to travel to Georgia) but Derek went off to war 4 months before King Charles laid siege to Quantico. So if you factor in those 4 months and additional time to travel to Georgia, it has been roughly a year since our two lovebirds have seen each other.

Anyways, please forgive any mistakes!

Enjoy!

Spencer allowed the music to flow through his fingers. He could feel each note down to his core as he played the musical love letter to his husband. Toward the end of the composition he felt an overwhelming urge to cast his eyes upon his lover. He knew it was dangerous to make eye contact but his desire to see his husband alive and well after so long won out in the end. So, as the final note had been plucked he dared to raise his chin all the way up and threw his gaze toward his best friend.

He wasn't disappointed.

The glance may have only lasted a moment but the emotions that were imparted through that one look would last a life time. Spencer literally felt the love radiating from Derek's mocha brown eyes. They were so intense and powerful but soothing at the same time. He swore he could almost hear Derek telling him that everything was going to be all right before he averted his gaze back to the floor.

The captive king sat silently as the dining hall erupted in applause around him. For though he was only a slave to these people they never shied away from admiring his musical talent.

"Hurrah!" Charles called out across the room, holding his flagon up high. "But that was too melancholy! This is a celebration boy. Play us a happier tune!"

Spencer nodded his head causing the tassels on the veil to tinkle together. He quickly shuffled through the different song options that were stuck in his brain and chose a more appropriate tune.

The courtiers in the hall were tapping their feet and clapping their hands by the time he was finished. The joyous atmosphere that his talented fingers had created was so catchy that even Charles himself seemed to want to get up and dance.

When the tune was over the king stood up from his seat and announced to his people, "Let us adjourn to the Great Hall. There we will drink and dance until the sun rises in the east." His proposal was met with multiple shouts of approval. The grandiose monarch turned toward his guest and asked, "Shall we, Derek?"

"Sounds like an excellent idea, Charles. So-uh-will he be providing us entertainment all night?" Derek asked, hoping that Spencer wouldn't have to continue his performance. "I had forgotten how talented he was with the lute."

Charles chuckled, "Among other things…but to answer your question, no. There is a string quartet already assembled in the Great Hall."

Derek's face fell slightly.

"But, my slave will be joining us," Charles continued. He turned toward his brother, "Raphael, go grab the boy and bring him to the Great Hall."

Raphael bowed to acknowledge the order and started off down the stairs of the dais.

"Oh, and make sure that you secure his hands behind his back this time. He got a little pushy last night and it's high time he's learned his lesson," the cruel king sniggered as he ushered his guest out of the room. And though it sickened Derek, he returned the smile and added a conspiratorial laugh before walking away with his enemy.

Spencer, who had been listening to the exchange, cringed at his husband's chuckle. Of course, he knew that Derek was playing along with the other man but hearing his lover laugh at his misfortune cut him deeply nevertheless.

"Stand up, boy," Raphael ordered once he got to Spencer's side.

The young man did as instructed after he set the lute down gently on the floor. He didn't resist as Raphael stepped behind him and attached the cool golden bands around each of his wrists. The manacles weighed his arms down and he allowed them to drop uncomfortably against his back. The chain in between the two cuffs was too short and caused his shoulders to pull back to accommodate for the unnatural position.

"Move," the knight commanded, yanking on the leash.

Spencer stumbled due to the force of the jerk but miraculously managed to stay on his feet. Raphael set a quick pace and before he knew it they were entering the Great Hall through the door hidden behind Charles's throne.

The music was already in full swing and there were countless couples out dancing on top of the hard wood floors. From his vantage point, Spencer saw that Charles was seated on his ornate throne and that Derek was next to him in Tobias's usual seat. Behind his beloved stood Sir Hotchner, diligently keeping watch over his liege.

Raphael didn't bother to stop and admire the lavish room; instead he impatiently pulled his charge's leash and dragged him over to the king. Once the knight reached the throne he shoved the helpless slave to the floor right in front of his brother.

Spencer tried to land on his knees but because his hands were bound behind his back he wasn't able to stick his landing. So instead of falling into his usual position he ended up sprawled out on his stomach with his face smashed into the floor.

"Get up, you lazy oaf," Charles snarled at him as he kicked out with his foot and nailed Spencer in the stomach.

The slave let out a grunt and closed his eyes, embarrassed that Derek was witnessing him at his weakest.

"Do you need me to get out my whip? That'll motivate you to move!"

He did his best to shake his head and slowly struggled to get on his knees.

Suddenly he felt a hand wrap around his bicep in order to help him up off the floor. At first he was confused as to who would be brave enough to aid him but then Derek's deep voice penetrated the air, "Really now, Charles, give the kid a break."

Spencer felt his heart race when he realized his husband had admonished the king. He finally opened his eyes and casted a panic look towards Derek.

"Excuse me?" Charles asked quietly with a hint of menace lacing his voice.

"The kid's arms are useless behind his back. How did you expect him to get up – huh? He was trying to do as you ordered…and you're just being cruel." Derek responded, tightening his grip on his husband's arm.

"First of all, Derek, may I remind you that you are a visitor to my kingdom. So the way that I treat my people – my slaves – is my business. And yes, this kid is mine! I won him fair and square in the war – so your opinion on how he should be treated is inconsequential. Next, you need to let go of his arm. Now! As I said, I own this boy – body and soul – and I'm a selfish man, which means that I DON'T LIKE OTHER PEOPLE TOUCHING MY THINGS!" Charles thundered, his anger oozing out of his every pore.

The Great Hall instantly went silent in response to the king's shouts. The band stopped playing and the courtiers halted their dance. Everyone in the room had turned toward the throne and watched avidly as their sovereign seethed with rage that burned hotter than the surface of the sun.

Derek, startled by the vehemence radiating off his fellow monarch, wisely released his grasp on Spencer and took a step back. "Whoa, Charles. There's no need to get upset. I-I was just trying to help."

"Help a slave? This is his lot in life – remember?" Charles taunted. "You should…because as I understand it, you freed all of the slaves in your country except for this one. It seems like deep down even you know that this boy is destined to be in chains."

The young king had to force down the urge he had to deck Charles, scoop up Spencer and run out of this godforsaken place. The man's mocking words were testing his resolve; but instead of acting impulsively and risking the lives of everyone involved with Spencer's rescue, he clenched his fist and squared his jaw. He took a calming breath before stiffly saying, "I-I apologize for interfering, Charles. You are right. This is your home and you will run it as you see fit."

Derek's effort at placating the other king seemed to work. The fire that had flared up in Charles's eyes settled down to a small flame and his biting tone was missing from his next statement – though he did not acknowledge Derek's apology.

"Quite right, I will run it as I see fit," he stated sharply. "Now, take your seat, Derek and let's get this celebration back on track." Charles waited for his guest to do as instructed and then waved his hand toward the cellist, giving him the signal to start the music once again. He then turned his attention back to his scantily clad slave and saw that the boy had finally managed to get to his knees. "Move to your proper position."

Spencer kept his head bowed as he shuffled backwards on his knees to the narrow space in between the kings' seats. Once there he settled on his heels and turned his stooped head away from Derek. Charles, though, wasn't happy with his pose. So he pressed his hand to the slave's back and pushed him down so that his back was parallel to the floor. "You will stay this way until I say otherwise." The king looked over at his companion and smiled boorishly, "How I love watching his hands strain against the chains. It makes my rod stand straight up every time."

Derek couldn't convince himself to laugh at Charles's lewd comment. Instead he held a straight face and simply nodded.

Penelope, who had watched the whole exchange, felt horrified for Spencer and woeful for Derek. She had to commend her friend for maintaining his composure as he watched his husband endure such treatment. But her admiration changed to worry when she saw Charles say something to Derek with a lecherous smile on his face. She didn't know what was being said but based on the way the young monarch's lips flattened and his eyes narrowed she knew it wasn't good.

Fortunately, the tune that the band had just begun to play was quite lively and it gave her a great idea. The bubbly blonde rushed up to the dais and bowed low to the two men before standing up with a bright smile on her face. "My liege, would you like to dance?" she asked her king, raising her eyebrow conspiratorially.

Derek kept the scowl on his face and answered brusquely, "No. I am not in the mood."

Lady Penelope let her smile falter at his answer. "Oh, I understand, Your Highness." She then turned toward Charles and flashed him a toothy grin. "How about you, Your Grace? I've heard from a few of your subjects that you are quite light on your feet," she said, batting her eyelashes innocently.

Charles, who was easily won over by any form of flattery, stood up and said, "It would be my honor, Lady Penelope." He extended his hand and clasped her delicate fingers in his, leading her down to the dance floor.

Derek, who was silently blessing Penelope and her wily ways, sat up straighter in his chair and kept his eyes on Charles. When he felt confident that the king was sufficiently distracted he opened his mouth slightly and tried to speak without moving his lips, "Are you alright?"

Unfortunately, the music was so loud that his words were swept away before Spencer could hear them. Realizing that he'd have to speak louder, he turned and gestured for Sir Hotchner to come closer. "Stand by my side and make it look like we are speaking to each other," Derek said.

"Of course, Your Highness."

Derek then turned back to face the crowd and said a bit louder, "Spencer, are you alright?"

Aaron moved his lips as if he was answering, but the one that was addressed remained silent.

Concern grew in the young king's belly at his lover's silence. "Sweetheart? It's going to be alright. We're here now – I'm here now. We're going to get you out of this."

Silence.

Unable to help himself, Derek glanced down at his husband's bent form and saw it shaking. He felt tears well in his eyes as his gaze roved the boy's exposed back, taking in the new scars that had been beaten into his delicate skin. The evidence of how much pain Spencer had been put through made Derek long to jump out of his seat and wrap his beloved up in his arms. "Please say something," he begged before averting his eyes back to the crowd.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Spencer subtly shake his head back and forth as if to say, "No."

"He won't be able to hear you; he's off dancing with Penelope," Derek said, thinking that maybe Spencer was scared Charles would catch him talking.

Again, a slight bob of the boy's head was his only answer.

The young king knew that then that he wasn't going to get to what he wanted. So he dropped his left hand down off of the arm of the chair and allowed his limb to hang in the air limply, except for one appendage – his pinky finger. He slowly outstretched that little finger to its maximum length and silently rejoiced when its tip lightly ghosted over Spencer's right shoulder, caressing the soft skin he hadn't been able to touch in almost a year.

Derek closed his eyes the second he achieved skin to skin contact and savored the feeling. "You're not alone anymore," he whispered to his seemingly mute husband. "I'm here and I'm taking you home if it's the last thing I do," he vowed with conviction before pulling his hand back to its proper resting place.

Spencer, who desperately wished he could have answered his husband, was trying to reign in the tumultuous emotions that were running rampant through his body. Unfortunately, it was a battle he wasn't going to win in the middle of the Great Hall under the keen eye of his captor. Even now, as Derek tried to impart to him a small sense of security, Spencer could feel Charles's eyes burning into him. He knew without even looking up that his lover's faint touch hadn't gone unnoticed and that knowledge alone sent uncontrollable shivers through his body.

Moments later the spirited tune ceased and another one started up. While the courtiers continued on with their dancing the king excused himself from Lady Penelope's company and walked back up to his throne with a scowl on his face. He ignored his guest and turned toward his son, who was sitting in a chair on the left side of his throne, "Tobias, get off your ass and take my prize up to my room. Make sure you stay with him until I come up later."

The browbeaten prince didn't question his father's orders; instead he sprung up out of his seat and grabbed the lead of the leash from off the floor. He then placed a hand on Spencer's elbow and used his grip as leverage to help the slave up. "Goodnight, Your Highness. King Derek," the prince said, bowing to each man before escorting his charge out of the room.

The enslaved monarch dutifully followed along behind the prince as he was lead back to the king's chambers. Even though they were only a few steps away from the Great Hall, Spencer felt a hollow feeling settle over his heart at the loss of Derek's presence.

"Your friends are going to have to stop being so obvious," Tobias said, pulling the boy into a dark corridor. "My father sees everything…" the prince trailed off, stopping momentarily to speak with his only friend.

Spencer stared at Tobias with surprised eyes.

"He won't let you go…at least…not until he's grown tired of you. And even then, he'll kill you rather than give you away. So…Lord Rossi…King Derek...I hope they stop trying to push my dad about you…because the more they do the more valuable you become in his eyes. And if he – if he thinks that they are desperate to get you back he'll dangle you in front of them like a worm on a hook. My father…he'll use you in the vilest of ways to taunt them…"

The captive king looked away, refusing to acknowledge the truth behind his friend's words.

"I-I am confused about one thing though…I mean…I just don't understand why someone like King Derek would worry that much about you…you're just an emancipated slave that was doing him a favor by placating his mother's whims," Tobias stated in a mystified voice. "So why –"

"Prince Tobias! I'm so glad I ran into you," a husky voice interrupted as its owner emerged around the corner that led away from the Great Hall.

The unlikely duo turned toward the intruder, each equally surprised to see King Derek as the source of the voice.

"Your Highness. Uh…how-how can I help you?" the prince inquired, clearly puzzled by the sovereign's sudden appearance.

Derek's booted feet clomped heavily down the hallway as he approached the two men. He waited until he was within inches of their location to answer the bewildered prince. "I-uh-I seem to have gotten lost. I was looking for a…for a water closet," he explained with an embarrassed chuckle. "All that mead we drank at dinner seems to have gone right through me. I asked your father where to go to take care of business privately but his directions were pretty hard to follow."

Tobias gave the neighboring king a tight smile, "Yes, well, my father forgets that not everyone is familiar with the layout of the castle."

"Too true," Derek agreed. "So-uh, there wouldn't happen to be one around here, would there?"

The prince glanced around, as if he had forgotten where he was, and looked back at the king. "The closest one to here is in my father's chambers."

Derek's lips spread into a wide smile, "Perfect. Isn't that where you were going in the first place? I'll just join you two."

"I-uh, I don't think my father would like that," he said. "There is one closer to the Great Hall that you can use."

"Nonsense, I would only get lost again. No, I think it's better if I go with you. I'm sure Charles will understand. Now let's get going before I embarrass myself further in front of you," the king said smoothly, leaving no room for Tobias to protest.

Sufficiently defeated by Derek's logic, Tobias nodded and said, "This way." He'd have to continue his conversation with Reed after the king relieved himself.

Spencer, who hadn't taken his eyes off of Derek's the whole time, knew immediately that Derek's excuse was just a ploy - and he was pretty sure that Tobias knew it too.

The three walked the rest of the way to Charles's quarters in silence, only the scuffing of their feet through the rushes could be heard. Spencer had to give his lover credit for keeping to his story when they reached the chamber doors. The young king didn't stand still as they waited for the guards to open the door; instead he shuffled from foot to foot as if he could barely hold in the contents of his bladder. And once they were all inside and the doors were closed he turned to his host and asked urgently, "Where?"

Tobias simply pointed a finger over to a small alcove and watched as the visiting king rushed out of sight. He then turned back to Reed and said, "My father is probably expecting you to be in his bed when he gets here. Why don't you go wait for him there?"

Spencer shook and turned around, wiggling his bound hands.

"Oh, that's right. Let me open the door for you," the prince offered, walking over to the entrance to the bedchamber.

Spencer slowly followed, drawing out each step on purpose. Luckily, his procrastination technique paid off, for Derek exited the privy chamber just in time to see Tobias preparing to shut away his father's slave.

"Oh! Do you think I could take a look around in there? I've always wondered how other kings live," Derek asked earnestly.

"I-I don't think –"

"Come now, Prince Tobias. It's not like I'm going to steal anything – my pockets aren't big enough," he joked lightheartedly.

"I-I suppose a few seconds couldn't hurt," the prince relented easily.

"Thanks," Derek said, skirting around Tobias and grabbing the door handles. He looked up at the confused boy and said, "I'll just be a few seconds," before shutting the prince out of the room.

Spencer watched as the man he once thought was dead turned and focused his chocolate brown orbs on his scantily clad body.

"Spen-cer," he whispered, his voice catching slightly on his lover's name.

The slave's expressive pools widened with disbelief; he'd half-believed this moment would never come. But rather than allow Derek's name to drip from his luscious lips, he averted his gaze to the floor and allowed a few stray tears to drip from the corners of his charcoal outlined eyes. The saltwater drops traveled over his strong cheekbones and down underneath the golden veil, leaving streaks of black trailing down his cheeks.

"Spencer, sweetheart, don't cry," the king uttered upon seeing his beloved's reaction. Derek, unable to stand seeing his husband's enchanting eyes looking so sad, rushed over to his side and wrapped his arms around him. "It's going to be alright. I've got you now and I won't let go."

The captive king burrowed his head into the crook of Derek's neck, inhaling his musky scent in between his sniffles. He shut his eyes as his lover's aroma permeated his head, allowing it to summon memories of times when had he felt safe and secure in his beloved's arms.

"Say something," Derek pleaded as he used on hand to card through Spencer's shorter hair. "I need to hear you."

Spencer shook his head back and forth.

The muscular king laid both hands on his husband's shoulders and pushed him back a little. He tried to catch the other's eyes but the boy's amber orbs were eluding him. "Why? Are you mad at me?" He paused and watched as a few more teardrops fell from the boy's eyelashes, "I swear I got here as fast as I could. I-I was wounded in battle and it took a while for me to recover...or else I would have been here sooner…I promise."

The other king still remained silent, causing Derek's worry to rise like a tide at the full moon. "Please, tell me what's wrong!"

"He can't," a terse voice stated, cutting through the room and interrupting the lovers' reunion.

Spencer tried to wiggle out of Derek's arms but the king decided that since they had already been caught he wasn't going to let go. Instead, he pulled his young love closer and fixed a malignant stare on the prince. "What do you mean?" he asked caustically.

Tobias approached the two slowly with his hands held up nonthreateningly and with a softer expression. "He can't because of this," he said, reaching his hands around Spencer's head and unhooking the veil.

As the opulent accessory was lifted away, Derek inhaled a sharp breath. For the golden veil had been hiding a leather gag with an oral attachment that had been buckled around Spencer's head.

Charles should have considered himself very fortunate that he wasn't in the room with Derek at that moment, since the king would have flayed him alive in a heartbeat for humiliating his husband in this manner. "What is the meaning of this? Remove that atrocious thing. Now!" the king growled at the meek prince.

Tobias ducked his head and immediately put his fingers to work. "I'm sorry. I-it was my father's idea. He said he didn't trust Reed to keep his tongue quiet this time…so he made sure he didn't have a choice."

Embarrassed, Spencer looked up at the ceiling as Tobias unbuckled the monstrosity and pulled it away from his face. The second the gag was gone Derek cupped his husband's delicate cheekbone and brought Spencer's face down to meet his.

Then, heedless of the Prince of Georgia's presence, Derek placed the most passionate kiss he'd ever dispensed upon his long lost love's rosebud lips.

The two kings pulled apart for air after an inordinate amount of time, each panting for breath in the small space between where their foreheads met.

Tobias, who had watched the fiery display of emotion curiously, gasped as the puzzle pieces fell into place. His beady eyes focused on his father's most prized possession and said, "You're King Spencer. Aren't you?"

Hmmm...so the question now is whether or not Tobias is going to tell Charles or help the boys out.

Guess we'll have to wait and see.