Hello! Just warning you guys, there are some historical facts mentioned in this chapter that have been a little bit twisted from what reality probably actually was back then. I tried to be as accurate as possible, but there is next-to-no information on Lucrezia de' Medici on the web. What I got, I got from Google. Not Yahoo. Google wins!

Oh, and also, the plot of the Story of the First King was heavily influenced by "The Dragon Prince" from The Book of the Dragon by Ciruelo. Thanks bunches!

Summary: Raph is sure he can't take Leo's almighty attitude any longer. He channels his rage through the Nightwatcher, a mask he puts on to beat down criminals of all kinds. However, when Raph (as the Nightwatcher) is captured by desperate criminals, he begins to realize how much he really needs a leader. He also might have found love in the process. RaphxOC, M/M SLASH! Don't like, don't read.

Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT and I don't make money. Period.

When Flame returned late at night, he and Michelangelo used all of their combined stealth to creep back into the lair without waking Leonardo. Mike had been unusually apprehensive about returning after breaking one of Leo's "rules," and Flame saw fit to indulge his silliness... For the time being. He hadn't expected the dojo light to still be on, shining like a beacon through shadow.

He motioned to Mike, whose eyes had turned toward the light in wariness as well. "You go on ahead. If it's Leo, I'll distract him for you."

Almost immediately, Mike broke out into a wide grin that almost disguised a scrape he had acquired on his face from an ollie gone awry. "Dude, you're a life saver!"

In a flash, Mike took off, dashing up to his room in the hopes of not getting caught out past curfew. Flame spared himself the eye-roll and stiffly made his way toward the dojo. He wasn't without his own scrapes, wincing a bit every time he put weight on his left foot. Whoever was in there, he hoped they weren't expecting a late sparring session.

Placing a hand on the door-frame, Flame peered into the dojo. He was pleasantly surprised to find no Leonardos inside; rather, he found that Raphael was the only one using the room, vigorously punching his bag in the corner.

Flame was fairly sure Raph had been doing that when he left to skate with Mike, and wondered how long this had been going on. Raph hadn't even noticed him watching, so he allowed himself a few seconds to observe.

Raph swung most strongly with his right arm, but obviously wouldn't shy away from using his left. With a trainer's eye, Flame could point out a few technical things where Raph could improve his technique, but that didn't seem to be what the red-banded turtle was going for. Flame could tell the difference between someone working to improve and someone who just wanted to hit something.

Hard, apparently. Flame flinched absently as a particularly heavy blow echoed throughout the dojo, knowing that must have sent shivers up Raph's arm with aftershock. Looking closer now, he saw something that definitely did NOT occur in a regular training session: even though Raph had wrapped his knuckles, the wrap itself was stained with red. Raph was bleeding, but it didn't look like he intended to stop any time soon.

What had happened? Flame's mind immediately jumped to his last conversation with Raph and he blushed, remembering his brazen behavior. He hadn't stuck around long enough to see how Raph took it-though from the current state of affairs, the answer was not well.

It was past time to make his presence known, but Flame suddenly found that idea not at all appealing. If this was Raph's reaction to so casual an action, he was positively certain he couldn't expect anything more. That fact struck him as strange, however, when he thought even further back to the way Raph himself was acting before Flame had tried to initiate anything. He was flirting, wasn't he?

Flame couldn't be sure, and the uncertainty frightened him. He liked lined out plans, perfect chinks in the armor of a building to be exploited exactly on time, a schedule. It seemed that ever since Raph had entered his life, his world had been thrown away to utter chaos. Somehow, in the middle of all of it, he'd come to see Raph in a different light. He'd gone from merely protecting him to actually wanting to spend copious amounts of time with him.

He had never actively sought someone before; as king, he had never had to. If he wished, he could have had someone different to warm his bed every night (he did live like that for a short time, directly after Marius), but that had made him idle. He didn't chase, he was chased.

Flame shook himself, coming back to reality. When had he started to think of Raph that way? He didn't even know if Raph felt the same! And even if Raph did have feelings, could Flame bring himself to take advantage of that?

Pushing all those useless questions out of his mind, Flame stepped further into the dojo. His shoes made soft scuffling sounds on the floor, and Raph immediately whirled around.

"Just when I thought you would never hear me coming..." Flame drawled in the most sarcastic tone he could manage.

"I'm a ninja. Where did you get the idea that you might have any luck with that?" Raph bit right back, and Flame noticed him clasping his hands together, in a vain attempt to hide the blood.

"I dunno, maybe when you decided to splatter blood all over that nice punching bag back there?" Flame said, and Raph reluctantly let his hands drop. "Lemme take care of that. Come on."

Raph shot Flame a half-hearted glare that clearly said I can fend for myself, thank you very much, but he did follow along willingly when Flame tugged his arm in the direction of the kitchen.

The short trek to the kitchen seemed to take hours, at least in Flame's mind. He hadn't released Raph's arm yet, and Raph hadn't pulled away, but that didn't mean anything significant. Flame felt as if he were asking Raph the same question over and over: Are you okay with this? Alright, now are you okay with this?

Once they had finally reached the kitchen, Flame led Raph to the table to sit, and then wet a washcloth with warm water. He returned and took a seat across from Raph, then began to methodically unravel his hands. Raph would flinch a little every once in a while, and Flame would hear a few more screams.

The wounds weren't deep, but they had bled out significantly. Flame sighed, looking down on the newer blood mixing next to the old and dried. "You're a lunatic, that's for sure."

Raph only grunted in response. The ninja kept doing that..avoiding Flame's eyes, refusing to talk. Something would have to be done about that.

Without warning, Flame placed the hot cloth on Raph's skin, and he heard the turtle stifle a small yelp. Careful not to injure his charge any further than what was already done, Flame began to clean the wounds. The washcloth kept coming off bright red, and he had to control his impulse to growl.

"Why did you do this, Raph?" he tried to ask evenly, but his voice came out foreign to his intentions, with a dangerous edge to it that caused Raph to actually meet his eyes for a second or two.

"Didn't notice."

Flame's hands stilled for a moment on Raph's. He took a deep breath, and then posed the question he had really hoped he wouldn't have to address.

"Is this about earlier?" Flame asked, and this time, his voice came out as barely above a whisper. He focused intensely on the cleaning of Raph's hands, even as he felt those eyes search his face.

"Yeah."

"I'm no good, you know."

"Uh huh."

"You should stay away from me."

"I should."

"I don't want you to feel like you have to put up with that, either. You just say the word, and I'll stop."

Silence, and there was the kicker. Flame dared to look up at Raph, who was busy avoiding his gaze again. Flame sighed. At least he hadn't said stop. Still, Flame felt like Raph had to hear more of a warning before he thought about whatever was happening between them; theirs was a tangible connection, something even Flame couldn't deny for long.

"I've got a pretty interesting story, if you'd like to hear it," Flame started, but waited for Raph's nod to go on. Raph's eyes seemed so far away already, and Flame knew once he told him this, Raph most likely wouldn't want anything to do with him.

For Raph, that would probably be just as well. He would be safer that way. So, he launched into his story, re-wrapping Raph's hands as he did.

XXX

The First King-as told by Flame, former king

During the Italian Renaissance, the Medici family were heralded as the richest in all of Italy, and Florence became the cultural center of Europe under their power. The year was 1461, and the powerful family had yet another accomplishment to celebrate: the wedding of Piero di Cosimo de' Medici's third daughter, Lucrezia de' Medici, to Bernardo Rucellai. She was scheduled to be formally brought to her husband's house soon after her wedding, along with a dowry of 2500 fiorini d'oro.

Many from the wealthiest families in Florence attended the wedding; so many, in fact, that the precise number could never be obtained. The "happy" bride and groom were toasted with opulence befitting the wedding of a Medici-magnificent festivals and banquets abounded. Of course, one could easily be lost among such a plethora of activity... So Lucrezia found.

The first known case of our genetics was a widely unknown Renaissance man of mysterious origins. He was known to frequent the Platonic Academy founded by the Medicis, and was rumored to have studied alongside the master artist Donatello (ahem, Donny's namesake, I suppose), though the man was never as much of an artist as he was a scientist. To his friends, he went by only "Luke," and to all others, he gave no name. He and several of his fellow artists were attending the wedding of Lucrezia de' Medici to publicly display their gratitude toward their famous patrons.

Sometime during the celebration, Luke and Lucrezia were introduced, presumably by Benozzo Gozzoli, a fellow artist and acquaintance who knew the family. Luke was instantly enamored with Lucrezia, and talked to her passionately about his work in science for many hours. He was said to have spoken to her like she was truly an equal to him, a state of mind which few women could impress upon men in those days, and combined with her innate love of learning, Luke's soft tones caused him to become irresistible to her.

Lucrezia allegedly pleaded with Luke to take her away with him to his home in the countryside of France. Moved by her entreaties as well as his own love, Luke agreed to marry her in secret and take her to where he lived. He had only one condition: Lucrezia should never try to see him other than when he chose, and she should never try to discover his identity. Blinded by love as she was, Lucrezia readily agreed to this odd request.

So it was that just days after her wedding, both Lucrezia and Luke suddenly vanished from Florence. The Medici family scoured high and low for her, but to their deep embarrassment, the young girl could not be located. They eventually settled on an excuse that prompted the least humiliation: Lucrezia must have been kidnapped!

In the meantime, Lucrezia found herself in a spacious dwelling in the country. It wasn't quite the size of the house of a Medici, as it was obviously intended to be more of a place of seclusion than yet another accessory to show off, but the home had charm. She promptly sprang into the strong arms of her beloved, the only man who had ever treated her like she had a mind of her own.

In response, Luke smiled down at her and murmured in her ear. "You are my lady and my wife, and all that is mine is also yours. Here is my home, which now belongs to you. There are stables with brilliant steeds should you wish to ride, a stocked library should you wish to read. My servants are also musicians and artists-they will entertain you if you so will it. If there is anything you want, anything you need, you have only to tell me and I will give it to you."

"How could I wish for anything when I have your love, my lord?" Lucrezia replied, much bewildered.

Luke chuckled. "That is well, my love, but do not forget our agreement."

For a solid two years, Lucrezia complied with her husband's only term, and she believed she was truly in paradise. They even had a couple of children together-both daughters, who were not suitable as heirs but would carry on their father's genes. Luke preferred to spend most of his time with his lady; only very occasionally, he would retreat behind a locked door, the one room in the house Lucrezia was never allowed to enter. One day, Lucrezia's inquisitive mind pushed her to find out just exactly what her husband did that she was not permitted to see. She peeked through the door, which Luke had left ajar in trust, and looked into the forbidden room.

What she found inside was a kind of science she thought none would ever have dared to attempt. You see, Luke was obsessed with the study of pain, as he couldn't feel it himself in the same way others could. It all amounted to this-Luke was basically operating a torture chamber (I'll spare you the gruesome details) and Lucrezia was horrified. She let out a gasp, and Luke turned around just in time to see his dear wife's betrayal. His children recounted later that he let out a seemingly earth-shaking roar of anguish, and then chased his wife and the children themselves from the house. He then arranged for a servant to transport the mother and her daughters back to Florence.

Again using kidnapping as a cover story, Lucrezia was welcomed into Bernardo Rucellai's household as his wife a mere three years later. Rucellai also treated Luke's offspring as his own, and acted as an appropriate father figure. It is unclear what else happened to Luke during his lifetime, as that was all the daughters could tell their genetically-altered sons, but it was rumored that a cloaked figure with bloody hands laid an equally red rose down on her grave shortly after her funeral. He then crept back into the shadows, never to be witnessed again by anyone except those who didn't live long enough to tell the tale.

XXX

"That is how our kind began, and that's our nature, Raph. I can understand if you don't want to be around me again," Flame said solemnly. There wasn't really much else he would say to his benefit. In less than five minutes, he had just told Raph a significant portion of the evil that he knew lurked inside him... His black nature trying to claw its way out.

Raph had been warned. Now, all Flame waited for was a sign, an answer to his question. Could Raph handle the love of a king of monsters, a leader of killers? Even if Flame repented of his crimes, he knew his nature might still resurface. Constantly, he was bombarded by an intense, burning curiosity, to see how pain could be channeled. He would wince at the screaming of the cells, but that same sound would only send him back for more. If only he could feel that pain himself, his quest might be fulfilled. Otherwise, how could he tell he wasn't only a shell of a body that just so happened to be still breathing?

Raphael, are you okay with this? his mind longed for his lips to utter, but Flame was already lost in amber eyes, searching for something he was half-afraid to find.

Heh heh, cliffhanger! Yes, I am evil. I know it and I love it about myself. But seriously, guys. You should be getting a very clear image of who Flame is, especially by this point in the story. Raph is sort of a "bad boy," so it seems only logical that he would be attracted to someone as "bad" as he is.

Allegedly. In my opinion. Whatever.

Please review, and tell me how you think the story is coming along so far! It will probably end up being more chapters than I originally intended, as I keep getting all of these sudden kick-butt ideas from the sky and such, but that's not a big deal. Hope you stick with me here!

Did I say review, please?

-DauntlessAdrenaline