Part2:

            Issai set his guitar beside him in the grass, tilting his face to the sky and drinking in the warmth of sunlight and the cool spray misting from the waterfall. His sensual lips arched into a slight sad smile as he closed his almond eyes, soft black lashes bowing to feather-kiss his cheeks, but never touching. A low sigh breathed past his lips.

            He loved this garden. It was beautiful and serene. But he loved his freedom more and he feared he would never see it again. King Shion had made it very clear what was intended for him when he was sent here... how long had it been now? By the gods, how days and weeks so easily blended into each other. It seemed like he'd been here forever. Anticipating, waiting, dreading the day the king would fulfill his threat and complete his dishonor. It was disgrace enough to be sold as a slave, a sex slave, no less, though he was fortunate that no one had yet claimed him. Yet. The lingering 'yet'.

            King Shion wanted to break him, disgrace him, dishonor him. Issai knew full well this slavery was only the beginning of that promise. Shion was a ruthless and shrewd man, with a wicked wit. No, this was definitely only the beginning.

            His mind snapped to just before he had been brought here by a small military escort. The king had said, a malicious smirk on his rugged face, " You think I sicken you, dear prince? You will pray the gods for even the company of the dark one himself, instead of the one I will send to take you." He strode up to him till their chests almost touched and leaned to his ear, his mustache tickling and his voice low and menacing. " Your delicate..." He spat," royal flesh will be ravaged by one so detestable to your dainty sensibilities you will wish to gouge out your own eyes. Your skin will crawl at his touch, and your stomach will turn as he takes you, and uses you, again and again. " His dark eyes glowed with hate and rage as he hissed, thick with venom, " but if I discover that you have shown him any of that repulsion or disgust, that you have shown him anything other than complete pleasure and acceptance of his touch..." The king grabbed his throat, squeezing at the base of his jaw. "... Know this! I will kill you, treaty be damned!"

            Issai shivered at the memory and the look he had seen in the king's eyes. He had meant every word and the hate that flamed in the king's dark eyes still made his skin go cold.

            Issai rose, hints of a strong toned body arching under fine flowing cloth. He shook the grass from his loose, blue trousers as he bent down to gather his guitar. This morning the pure azure of the sky had inspired him, and brought a temporary peace to his soul as he played and sang in it's honor. But that moment was now gone, robbed by the dark thoughts of his captor and his prison. He strolled towards the screened entryway leading to the main room from the gardens. Perhaps, a bath would soothe him. A bath scented with lavender. Yes. That would do nicely. And afterwards...

            He froze. The guitar slipped from hands and fell on to the ground with a discordant note. A hundred feet or so ahead of him a figure lay sprawled on the grass. The greens and browns it wore and his distracted mood had made it difficult to notice at first. If not for the bright glint of metal, he might not have seen it at all till he was nearly upon it. Issai strode forward, his knees and spine tingling and warm with dread.

            As he stood over the sleeping man, he slowly recognized the silver helm, dulled with dust and dirt, and the uniform jacket, though a forest green and not as adorned, was very similar to the maroon he had seen the man in before. A tassel of a lighter, more vibrant green dangled from part of an iron key peeking out of the jacket's breast pocket

            So he was to be Issai's master? Just thinking the word disgusted him. Master! What an awful word for a free man. But he wasn't a free man anymore, was he? That ended when he was taken hostage, when he was taken here. He could, would, survive this, and with as much of his dignity and honor intact as was possible.

            His eyes roamed over the tall figure at his feet: gracefully muscled, slender legs wrapped in brown breeches and riding boots; a strong chest, not quite broad, rising and falling in blissful sleep; the jacket's high collar and a matching cravat framed what hinted to be a slender throat; feather-light and oddly dark hair, a light blushed-cream, narrow and almost feminine chin streaked with dirt and sweat, or perhaps... tears?; and petal perfect lips.

            If this was the king's promise made flesh, then he had to be dreaming, because this was far from the nightmare he had been dreading. Unless... unless the horror was the man himself, that he was wretched of heart. Issai flung the thought aside. The sad turn of those delicate lips, even in apparent restful sleep, and the remembered nobility of the man's bearing eased his mind.

            He knelt down, his sea-green eyes drawn to the blacker than black locks of soft hair spilling from beneath the metal mask like ink, a few curls fluttering under the slow breaths of the lips they nearly brushed. He reached a tan hand to touch, telling himself it was just to wake the stranger, not to discover if that hair was as soft as it looked or would melt or mist away, as he half suspected.

            Dark waves, softer than the finest sable caressed his fingertips. Heavenly. He stroked his fingers along the sinfully silky strands wanting to imprint the sensation into his skin. Unfortunately, he was interrupted as the stranger moaned sleepily and sat up, rubbing his gloved wrists.

            Abruptly the hands stopped and the helmeted head slowly rose, turned to the hand still on his shoulder then moved along the path of Issai's slender arm, meeting the prince's faint smile with hidden eyes.

            " Hello, " Issai said, his smile warming the gray-green.

            The masked man's pale lips thinned.

            Nearly choking on the very air that brought him life, Sasha batted away the prince's hand, a little more roughly than he had intended, but he couldn't have the prince dirtying himself by touching him.

            " Don't ," he managed to sputter, his deep voice rising slightly.

            Issai calmly sat back on his heels and folded his hands on his lap. " I apologize. I didn't mean to offend you. " Hurt confusion laced his otherwise pleasant tone.

            " No!" Sasha replied quickly, too quickly. He lowered his head, shyly touching his hand to his helmet, covering the only portion of his face that showed. " No,... not at all... I... I... I just don't want you dirtied by me."

            The young prince's smile widened. " Well, then we must get you cleaned." He stood, graceful like a spring breeze through fine grass and held out his hand. " Come. "

            We? Sasha stared at the hand, manicured and perfect, then at it's owner, who beamed with pure friendliness. His throat tightened. He couldn't. Issai was too beautiful to mar with the truth. Seeing the inevitable repulsion on that face would be more than his heart could take. Sasha shook his head. " I can't... " ... `risk you seeing me,' he wanted to say.

            " Nonsense. I can tell you've had a long trip and are weary. A nice warm bath will relax you." Issai gently grabbed his wrist and lead him from the garden.

            Sasha was too shocked to protest. The warmth of Issai's hand seeped past the cloth of his glove, spread through his skin, and slowly blushed his cheeks.

            The prince glanced over his shoulder at the flustered boy with a sultry smile. " Perhaps, a massage as well," he winked.

            Sasha choked and wrenched his hand from the prince's hold. " I... I would rather not!... Not with... with... " he stammered.

            Issai stood still, elegantly clasping his hands behind his back, his head tilted in curiosity. " Surely you are not shy? As a soldier, you must have bathed in the presence of your comrades countless times. "

            Sasha lowered his head and fidgeted with his jacket sleeves.

            " No? " The prince tapped a slender finger against his supple lips, his other arm remaining behind his back. " So you are shy. How absolutely charming. " His smile brightened. " I like you." he said as he threw an arm around the taller man's shoulders, gently urged him forward. " Nothing to fear, ... what is your name? " Issai peered up expectantly at Sasha, his glasses glinting with pinks and purples of the fading sunlight.

            " Sasha," he replied, his head turned and bowed, cheeks under streaked dust blushing as the sky.

            The prince gave the younger man's shoulder a gentle squeeze. " It is indeed a pleasure to meet you, Sasha. My name is Issai. "

            " I... know, " Sasha admitted quietly.

            " Oh? "

            " I... I'm sorry you have to be here, Prince Issai. And with me."

            The prince's eyes darkened to a smoky green as his lips slipped into a frown. " Well, let us not talk of that. Out of honor and loyalty to my family and kingdom, I must do what I must do. " He nervously pushed on the bridge of his glasses and forcing a weak smile, glanced at the helmeted man. " It is not your fault, my charming Sasha. However, with fate providing me with such pleasant company as you, my prison will be much easier to endure, even if for a short time."

            " I... I'm not staying, " Sasha mumbled.

            " And why would that be?"

            Silence.

            " Well let us get you cleaned first. Then you can decide whether to stay or not."

            " But... " Sasha started to protest, however Issai's confident smile and kind eyes squelched it.

            " Now, as I was saying, there is nothing to fear, Sasha, I will draw a lovely bath for you and leave you alone, if that is what you wish. " Issai's dusky green eyes whispered that leaving the younger man alone was far from what Issai wished. " Is that acceptable? "

            Sasha nodded.

            " Good ... " Issai continued steering them forward toward the entryway. "... I intend to make your stay as comfortable as possible. "