Hi friends!

Wow, this one was rough. I think I did it justice though...at least I hope I did.

Thanks for all your follows, reviews and patience. There will be only one final chapter after this. It's going to wrap everything up and address anything I've left open.

Please forgive any mistakes!

Enjoy!

Spencer watched as the floor changed from gray stone to a patterned Persian rug as his captor walked through the doorway leading to Tobias's room. He barely had time to register the brief exchange between the father and son before he was hurtling toward the unforgiving floor.

His left shoulder took the brunt of the fall, absorbing the lithe boy's weight as it crashed into the ground. The force of his fall sent his body careening backwards, causing him to roll over onto his back. A muffled grunt escaped the small spaces between his pierced lips while a grimace encompassed his face.

The bound boy struggled to get his body erect and was about to give up when a set of strong hands wrapped around his biceps. He let out a whimper of fear, thinking that the strange grip meant him harm, but was surprised to hear the gravelly voice of his beloved whispering, "Shh, I've got you."

Derek!

His beloved had been crouched behind the open door, hidden from the king's view.

"I'm going to release your hands but don't do anything. I've got it all taken care of. I'm getting you out of here, now!" Derek whispered in his ear as he used his leverage to haul Spencer's lanky body upright.

The calming effect that Derek's words were supposed to convey bounced right off of Spencer. All the youth could feel was panic surging through his veins. He needed to tell his husband that he was walking into a trap – that Charles knew he was going to be here and Raphael was waiting in the wings, ready to kill him.

So, the second bindings around his wrists fell free Spencer brought his hands up to his mouth, resisting the urge to turn around and envelop his husband in a much needed hug. His trembling fingers made contact with the first stud sealing his lips but dropped away when he felt Derek's body shift behind him.

The captive king could hear Charles's voice in the background, growling at Tobias, "Don't toy with me, boy. You may be my son, but I'm not opposed to trying out some of my more painful methods of torture in order to loosen your tongue."

Spencer's newly liberated hands reached out in a desperate effort to grab Derek's tunic as his lover vacated the space behind him but his fingers just brushed off of the harsh metal plating of the suit of armor. He let out a stifled groan as he helplessly watched the love of his life play right into Charles's hands.

"That won't be necessary, Charles. I'm right here," he heard Derek call out gallantly.

The captive king sat frozen in place as he watched the Georgian King turn around and sneer at his husband before he said, "Just like we knew you would be."

"We?" Derek probed, clearly surprised by the statement.

Spencer felt his heart jump into his throat when Raphael's deep baritone boomed in response, "I'm here too."

Derek was momentarily taken aback by Raphael's sudden appearance. He had no time to curse his stupidity for naively believing that Charles's wouldn't come prepared for a fight. His fingers had barely grazed the hilt of his sword when Raphael's onyx blade shot out toward his heart. Thankfully his years of training and experience automatically kicked in, allowing him to subvert the lethal blow by a quick sidestep to his right.

Raphael let out a mocking chuckle, "You're going to have to be quicker than that if you want to live, Derek."

With his sword now freed from its sheath, Derek brought it up in a defensive position and retorted, "And you need to look in a mirror – I'm younger, faster, and more agile. I'm your superior in every way."

"That's where you are wrong, child," The Georgian knight countered as he lunged forward angrily.

Derek jumped backward and brought his sword down, deflecting his enemy's swing. Fluidly, he swung his blade around in an arc and aimed it straight at Raphael's thick neck.

The knight ducked out of the way and brought his blade up to block. "Only your arrogance surpasses my own, other than that I outperform you in every way!" Raphael crowed as his steel crashed against his opponent's.

The two men fell silent after the knight's boast echoed throughout the room. They continued to trade blows, though each swing of the sword was blocked expertly by the other. The battle seemed almost like a practice session between two friends for every move that one would make the other was able to anticipate it and counter it effortlessly.

There seemed to be no end in sight for the battle between the two seasoned men, for neither of them were showing any signs of fatigue and they were too evenly matched to pull a surprise move on one another. If it hadn't been for Charles's interference than the fight may have lasted for hours.

Unfortunately, the Georgian king was growing tired of watching the stalemate ensue between his brother and rival. So he grabbed a pillow off of the chair that was positioned next to him and threw it down on the ground – directly in line with Derek's backward shuffling feet.

Raphael, who had seen his brother's move out of the corner of his eye, started to steer Derek toward the obstruction with a few calculated thrusts.

The younger man heard a stifled cry come from his husband's direction but ignored it as he parried each stab of the black blade. Suddenly his opponent picked up his speed and increased his attack. Their swords flew through the air like streaks of lightning, the blades obscured by their tempo.

As Derek moved to block one particularly aggressive blow he felt the heel of his right foot make contact with an unexpected material. The shock of stepping on the soft cushion threw off the youth's concentration, which drove his foot out from underneath him. He felt his body start its decent to the ground at the same time as a fiery wave of pain cut across his left hip, right in the gap between his cuirass and cuisse.

"Arg!" Derek cried out, surprised by the stinging sensation radiating from his new wound. He almost dropped his sword in an effort to put pressure on the cut, but knew that his death would be sealed if he relinquished his only means of protection.

Towering above him in triumph, Raphael pointed the tip of his sword at Derek's bare neck. "See, I told you I was your better."

"Your claim is void if you have to cheat to make it true," Derek retorted, grimacing in pain.

"I would have won eventually," Raphael stated brashly as he brought up the sharp point and jabbed it into the bared flesh of Derek's right elbow, hoping to render his foe's sword arm useless.

"You still haven't won yet," Derek grunted as blood started to rush down his arm and gather in the tips of his gauntlet.

The monarch's raucous laugh sounded throughout the room as Charles stepped away from his son and walked over to Spencer, "You have way too much confidence for someone in your current position, Derek."

"And you have too much for someone in yours," Derek snapped, his eyes following the man's journey over to his beloved. "I will be leaving here today. Alive. And with my husband. The same can't be said for you and your brother."

"Pray tell, how do you envision that happening when you are down there on your arse awaiting the killing blow from the same sword that ended your mother?" Charles taunted gleefully. He reached down and grabbed his slave by the neck and hauled him up to his feet. He forced his toy to look at him and whispered menacingly, "Watch now as I have my brother kill your lover. Then I'll make you saw off his head and perch it on the spike that will decorate our windowsill until it decays beyond recognition."

Spencer, tired of the abuse and desperate to save his husband, grabbed Charles's arm with his liberated hands and tried to pry his fingers from around his neck. The king laughed at the boy's fruitless struggle and flung him to the ground. "You're pathetic," he spat. He then whirled around and said to Derek, "I hope this pitiful excuse of a man was really worth your life." Without waiting for the young man to respond, Charles looked up at his brother and ordered, "Finish him."

"With pleasure," Raphael said, drawing back his sword arm and supporting it with his left hand.

Derek, who had been momentarily focused on Spencer, drew his eyes back toward his opponent and saw him in position to deliver a lethal strike. His heart jumped at the sight of the black sword at ready which sent a jolt of urgency tingling down his sword arm all the way to his fingertips. His deep-seated training kicked in immediately, telling him to take advantage of his adversary's weakness while he had a chance.

Without a second thought, Derek jerked his sword up at an angle and sent it straight up and into Raphael's exposed right armpit. The blade delved its way through the man's body until it hit the study bones hidden beneath the delicate flesh. Undeterred, Derek continued pushing the steel until it emerged from the space behind the clavicle and crashed right into the soft spot underneath Raphael's jaw.

The young king pulled his weapon back and watched mesmerized as blood started to pour out of Raphael's open wounds. Above him, the dark knight tried to speak, his eyes conveying his shock at his enemy's sudden attack. Only a hoarse croak made its way out of Raphael's mouth before he collapsed in a heap of metal on the carpeted floor.

Spencer couldn't help but watch in horror as Raphael prepared to kill his husband. He started to push himself up off the ground, ready to run over there and throw his body in front of the sword, but his heroics weren't needed. Derek had made his move.

With pride the youth watched as his husband's blade made short work of his opponent above him. The once shiny silver sword was now covered in Raphael's lifeblood; a poetic harbinger of the knight's death.

Immediately after Raphael crumpled to the ground in defeat, the boy turned his honey-brown eyes toward his husband desperately hoping that he was alright. To his dismay, his beloved just sat there on the ground with a dazed expression on his face. Slowly he dropped his sword and brought his free hand up to apply pressure on his elbow wound. He slowly flexed his fingers as if checking to see if they still worked. Suddenly his lips twisted in discomfort, drawing his gaze away from his hand to his injured side. The once gleaming silver metal now was covered in small streams of red tacky fluid which were pooling up at the bottom of the armor before dripping down onto the carpeted floor. Spencer watched as Derek blinked his hazy eyes once at the sight of the wound before closing them and passing out cold onto the unforgiving floor.

A loud growl above him broke Spencer's stupor. The expression on Charles's face clearly conveyed the man's boiling rage at his brother's death and defeat.

"Enough of this game! It's time for him to die! Now!" the king shouted with a deafening roar before he unsheathed his sword and charged forward toward his vulnerable rival.

Worry spiked through Spencer at the realization that Derek was in no shape to defend himself against Charles. The adrenaline surge spurned the young man forward in order to protect his mate. Unfortunately, while his hands had been freed earlier, his legs were still hobbled by the chain strung in between them. In the middle of his panic, Spencer had forgotten that one important little detail and was quickly reminded of it when his body fell flat on the floor not even two feet from where he started.

He looked up from his prone position on the ground and saw that Charles was about to finish what his brother had started. Spencer tried to open his mouth to shout out at the menacing monarch but all he succeeded in doing was ripping the flesh that surrounded the studs. His frightened fingers found their way back to his tender lips and started to vigorously unscrew the same ring as before when he saw a flurry of movement out of the corner of his eye.

"Father, no! Stop!" called Tobias, finally moving away from the window he had been standing idly by all along.

Charles's halted his movements and turned to look at his son. "What?" he asked incredulously.

"Please, father. D-don't kill him," Tobias begged. His arm outstretched as if the palm of his hand could stop the future trajectory of his father's sword.

"You can't be serious, boy. This is war. And in war you kill your enemies – not spare them!" Charles spat out.

"You're wrong, father. This isn't war…it's just you throwing a fit because things aren't going your way," Tobias stated without a single quaver in his voice. "I'm begging you, please reconsider what you are about to do. Let him go – let them both go. No more blood needs to be shed today. Let's just get back to our lives and let them go home and rebuild theirs."

Charles squinted his eyes and curled up his lip at his son's newfound insolence. "And why would I do that?"

"Because…because you'd be killing the husband of the best man I've ever known. And I can't let you do that," Tobias said, his eyes wandering over to Spencer in an effort to communicate how much he meant the words he was about to say.

"Surely you jest!" Charles barked. "That brat over there is nothing but a worthless whore – my worthless whore – besides his talents in bed there is nothing good about him."

Tobias's visage darkened at the crass insult, "You couldn't be more wrong, father. I assure you. Reed is the only human being besides mom to ever show me the meaning of the word kindness. We had only known each other for a few hours when I could tell that he was the epitome of a just and true man. After all that you've put him through he has never once stopped being my friend; he never held what you did to him against me. So I'll be damned if I let you ruin his life any further! I mean, really, father. Haven't you done enough? You've already degraded him, humiliated him, and abused him. You will not take away his only reason for living too!"

"Tobias! No!" Spencer called out after finally freeing his lips of the garish piercings. He knew what his friend was trying to do and he knew it wouldn't work. Charles was too intent on revenge to be swayed by his son's words. Tobias's appeal to reason would only bring his father's wrath down on him as well.

Charles snarled, "I always knew you were weak! Because only a weak man would allow the illusion of friendship to cloud his judgement as such. It's almost like you're a fucking puppy – attaching yourself too anyone who shows you some attention. You are a disgrace, son. You always have been." Having said his final words on the subject, the king turned back to his intended target.

In a last ditch effort, Tobias called out, "If I am weak it's only because you neglected to teach me how to be strong."

The Georgian king scoffed, "I am the essence of strength, son. It was you who neglected to learn from my examples."

"What examples?" the prince asked. "The only thing I ever see you do is belittle and exploit the people around you. Does that make you strong? And tell me, why does a strong man feel the need to enslave random strangers and sexually abuse them? Because the way I see it, only a weak man who doubts his own sexual prowess would resort to something so vile as what you've done to Reed – no, not Reed. It's Spencer; King Spencer, actually."

Seething, Charles grit his teeth together and tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, "You're words have only further cemented this man's death. That fucking slave has turned you against me, son. You know not what you say. After I finish dispatching this man from the world I will turn this sword on his lover. I don't want him dripping his poison into your ear any longer."

After that everything seemed to happen at once.

Charles stabbed his sword forward, clearly intent on shoving it straight through Derek's armor and into his heart.

Spencer, who had drawn himself up off of the floor, leaped from his position and landed on the king's back. The force of his fall took Charles by surprise and sent the two of them straight to the floor in a heap of limbs. Alas, the young man was a second too late to save his lover, but Tobias wasn't.

The prince knew his father had made up his mind and was going to follow through on his threat. So he did the only thing that he could think to do; he threw himself in front of the blade and took the steel jab that was meant for Derek.

Admirably, Tobias only let out a small groan of pain as the narrow point entered his abdomen. He took one step backward, the sword still embedded in his stomach, and fell to the ground. He let out a few garbled coughs that left a metallic aftertaste in his mouth.

"Dad?" he whimpered as he brought his hand up to his mouth and wiped away a trickle of blood that had found its out from between his lips.

Charles rolled Spencer off of his back and scrambled over to his son. He didn't say a word just cupped his child's cheek in his hand. His son looked up at him slowly and whispered, "I forgive you, dad." Tobias then closed his eyes and slumped backward against Derek's body behind him.

"NO!" the furious king screeched as a wave of conflicting emotions engulfed his brain. He reached forward and grabbed his sword's hilt, pulling the steel free from his son's body. He whirled around, swinging the blade in an arc behind him to build up momentum, and sent it speeding down in Spencer's direction.

The maddened man was taken by surprise when the clang of steel on steel echoed throughout the room.

The red that had been flashing before his eyes cleared enough to show him Raphael's black blade was the one that stopped his own – and his scrawny slave was the one wielding it.

"So you think you can fight, eh?" Charles mocked, bringing his sword down again, testing the young man's abilities.

Spencer, who was at a disadvantage due to his position on the floor, narrowly avoided a sliced open skull. Luckily, he had enough strength to bring up the heavy broadsword and avoided the downswing of Charles's blade by a hair's breadth. "I can get by," he uttered, using the few precious seconds he had between swings to scramble to his feet.

"Getting by isn't going to be good enough against me, whore," the king taunted as he swung again.

The novice tried to emulate the moves he'd seen his husband perform on the practice field but he wasn't fast enough. Charles easily cut through his defenses and sliced his right thigh.

"Arg!" Spencer cried out, the searing pain dulling his ability to swing the weighty blade. Fortunately, Charles's had backed him right up against Tobias's bed and he was able to fling himself down flat on the mattress, allowing the blade to slice through the air where his neck had once been.

"You're screwed now, boy. You have nowhere else to go and you can't wield that sword any better than a two-year-old child," Charles crowed, towering above the one man that had caused all his troubles. "Are you ready? Are you ready to die, here and now, all alone except for me to witness your demise? The only people that gave two shits about you are all dead. It's time for you to join them!"

Spencer propped himself up on his elbows, the hilt of the onyx blade still clutched in his fingers. He stared Charles down with a confident look that the king hadn't expected to see on his soon to be conquered foe, "Again you are mistaken, Charles. I'm not alone."

"Ha! And who is here is with you? Ghosts?" Charles jeered.

"No, Charles. I am," came Derek's deep baritone from directly behind him.

The king spun around, his sword at ready, despite his shock. He had too many years of experience to let his guard down when a surprise move was executed on him. A smile broke out on his face when he saw that Derek was still weak in the knees from his injuries. He started swinging his sword as he said, "You're just as stupid as your husband. What you wanted to make sure that you died fir-"

Charles never got the chance to finish his last word because suddenly the sharpened black tip of his brother's precious sword emerged through the hollow in his neck, forever silencing his voice and ending his abominable reign.

Spencer let go of the hefty hilt, allowing it to fall with the Charles's lifeless form. His body was heaving in air as the adrenaline rush that had kept him going since he'd been dropped on the ground upon entry into Tobias's room finally wore off. "Derek, you're okay?" he managed to squeeze out, no thanks to his tightened chest muscles.

"I'm alright. It's not as bad as it looks," he answered with a grin that was meant to hide the pain in his voice from his lover. "Are you?"

"I….I…I don't –" the young man cut himself off as a sob escaped his lips. "Oh my God…i-is it over?"

Derek saw that his lover was about to spiral into a panic attack and shuffled his way over and sat on the bed next to him. He quickly wrapped his arms around Spencer's lithe body and pulled him in close for the tightest embrace they have ever shared. "It's over, sweetie and it's all because of you. You did it. You were so brave! I've never been so proud of you in my life. We're going to get to walk out of here together all thanks to you and your quick thinking."

Between his heaving breaths Spencer managed to spit out, "Y-you're alive! You're really here and alive. I-I didn't think that you'd make it – we'd make it."

"But we did," Derek told him. He pulled back from the hug and shucked his gauntlets off and onto the floor. He then brought up his clean hand and used it to cup Spencer's cheek. He steered his lover's lips toward his own and crashed them together.

Derek could feel his heart swelling as the emotions that he'd kept locked up inside this whole time came pouring out in that simple little kiss. The frustration, the longing and the yearning burst forth from his body and intensified the liplock until both men had to pull back in order to catch their breath. "I've waited so long to do that to you again."

Spencer gave him a soft smile that hardened when he saw Derek wince, "Are you really okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. The bleeding is slower now. He didn't cut me as deep as he thought," Derek explained.

Spencer pondered his husband's words for a few seconds, "So did you really pass out?"

"Oh yeah, that was real. I think it was a mixture of exhaustion, blood loss and shock hitting me all at once," Derek said with a frown, his eyes fixated on Spencer's lips. "Sweetie, why are your lips swollen and bleeding?"

The formerly enslaved king brought his fingers up to his mouth and wiped away the speckles of blood that had developed from his earlier removal of the piercings. "It's…uh…it's fine. Don't worry about it. How did you end up waking up just in time?" he asked, changing the subject.

Derek furrowed his brow but didn't push his husband into answering, instead he focused on the question at hand. "I think it must have been Tobias falling on me that jolted me awake."

With a gasp, Spencer lurched to his feet, "Tobias!" The freed king tried to take a step forward but forgot about his chained feet and went crashing to the ground, again. "Derek! Get these things off of me," he cried desperately as his fingers fumbled with the golden shackles around his ankles.

Derek slid off the bed and landed next to Charles's cooling body. Earlier, when he was freeing Spencer's hands, he had already had a key courtesy of Tobias. But that key had only fit the set that bound his husband's wrists. Tobias hadn't mentioned that he was going to need another one to free his beloved's feet. So, he rifled through the dead man's pockets until he found what he needed. He then stretched out his hands and unlocked the cuffs that were binding Spencer's ankles.

Once his feet were unfettered, Spencer got up off the floor and rushed over to Tobias. "Please be okay," he murmured. "Please be okay."

The young man dropped down to his knees next to the prince's body and laid his hand on his friend's shoulder, shaking it gently. "Tobias? Tobias, please wake up."

Spencer felt as though his breath had somehow become locked up in his chest, for it felt like he couldn't take a breath until he saw Tobias's eyes crack open. "Oh thank God!" he exclaimed. "Derek, please, go get help!"

The young king started walking over to his lover with a frown on his face. He looked down on the prince and saw the large red spot on his abdomen was wet with blood and getting bigger with Tobias's every strangled breath. "Spencer, honey, I don't think he has that long," Derek said solemnly, knowing that his friend's end was nigh.

Anger razed Spencer's beautiful visage as he turned around and tersely stated, "He's going to be fine! Now go get him some –"

Spencer's emotional tirade was cut short by the gentle touch of a hand wrapping around his wrist. "Spencer, he's right," Tobias whispered with great effort. "I don't have much longer."

"No. That's not true. Don't give up on yourself. You're going to be fine. I promise," the distraught young man vowed.

Tobias forced a small smile onto his lips. "D-don't make promises you can't keep."

"Only if you don't give up on yourself," Spencer said with tears rolling like rivers down his face.

The prince coughed a few more times and swallowed down a glob of blood. "I'm just g-glad t-that y-you're f-f-finally f-free," he stuttered; talking was becoming a more difficult for him now.

"All thanks to you," Spencer admitted with his words as watery as his eyes.

Tobias reached his hand up and brushed a finger along Spencer's jawline. "I-I'm s-s-o glad I got t-t-o know y-you," he admitted before letting his hand fall to the ground with a thud. "Y-you w-w-were m-my only f-friend."

"Am. Tobias. I am your friend," the boy said, trying in vain to stay optimistic.

The prince's weak smile contorted into jagged frown as he tried to hold back a cry of pain. Another small dribble of blood peaked its head out of the corner of his mouth, signaling that his time had come.

Sensing that his friend was in agony and knowing that it was all his fault, Spencer grabbed Tobias's hands between his own and whispered the only thing he could think of to try to make it better, "I'm so sorry."

Tobias's eyes went wide as another streak of pain tore through his body. "Gnnn, i-it's not y-your f-f-fault. N-now, g-go h-home, R-ah-n-no, Spencer. Y-your t-t-telescope is w-waiting," he said softly, each word lingering in the air as if to pay tribute to his final breath.

Spencer couldn't help but smile through all of his tears at the prince's last words. The former slave squeezed his hands tightly around Tobias's, silently promising the man who had been his rock over the past year that he was not going to die alone. "Thank you, friend. Thank you for everything. I'll never forget what you've done for me," he professed as a raspy sound scratched its way out of the boy's throat. That noise heralded another round of ragged breaths and then the prince went still.

A sound akin to a mournful moan emitted throughout the room when Spencer realized that his friend's light had gone out. He drew the prince's hands up to his mouth and planted a few small kisses on them while muttering over and over, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Derek, completely heartbroken for his beloved and the loss that he had just endured, knelt down behind his husband and wrapped him in his arms.

The two sat there like that until the genius king's sobs died down into little whimpers of sorrow. When Spencer finally caught his breath and wiped the remnants of his tears on his bare arm, he gently let go of Tobias's hands and placed them in a cross over his still chest. The former captive then broke his husband's grip around his waist and turned to face him.

"Can you take me home now?" he inquired earnestly, his voice tinged with emotional and physical exhaustion.

"Nothing would make me happier," Derek declared with tears of relief streaming from his eyes.