Chapter Text
He was five when he first saw a murder.
Two Templars came to the small village of Honnleath with a black haired boy.
The one of the templar was bartering with a merchant while the other went to the chantry when he approached the boy, he greet him. The boy turned. Blank black eyes met sliver blue.
Something wasn’t right with him, his first thought. His eyes traveled upwards then widened.
Sitting on his forehead was the sunburst of the chantry, as though mocking him as he stared at it. He remembers the lessons his father gave him about the Circle of Magi, of the tranquil.
So this is a Tranquil, he thought as he continued to stare, but he’s so young!
The black haired boy must have noticed him staring and started to make conversation, “Hello, my name is Aides.”
He jumped slightly; the boy’s tone was emotionless. “I-I’m Malrium.”
Aides looked at him, just looked with those expressionless eyes of him as though examining him with eyes, calculating what to do with him.
Malrium shake him head, “Sorry for staring, I just never seen a Tranquil before.”
“I am Tranquil,” he said with that monotonous voice of his, “You do not have to apologize.”
Aides turned and followed the leaving templar before he could continue the conversation, leaving him standing there alone trying to get his thoughts together until his brother found him and pulled him back home for dinner.
That night he woke up screaming, his father sat with him as he cried into his shirt.
I-I don’t want to be made tranquil, he sobbed, please don’t let them h-have me.
His father pressed a kiss into his hair, I promise.
Malrium, for the first time, was glad that he didn’t show signs of magic. Yet.
He met the boy three days later, in the woods surrounding the village.
He and Julvian were playing hide and seek when realized the sky turned black and the sun was replaced with the moon, so they both raced back home for dinner.
He decided to use a shortcut he found out earlier, he took a sharp turn and his foot stepped into something wet.
Malrium glanced down and saw red; his eyes followed the trail, finding more red before reaching the center.
The whole clearing was covered with blood, the trees surrounding it were splashed with it and he saw bits of meat in it. He couldn’t find a body, but the clearing was littered with human remains, a leg here, a decapitated head there, an arm hanging of a branch of a tree. Bits of armor that reminded him of the Templers that came few days earlier were attached to some of the parts.
In the center was an alter, like ritual alters he read in father’s books. Like the clearing, it was covered with blood as he walked towards it.
Something cold grabbed onto his legs suddenly, causing him to lose his balance and fall onto his rear. He winced at the pain but it was quickly replaced with fear when he started to pull him closer to the altar.
The thing was pitch black and tentacle like, he couldn’t stop it as its grip was too strong and the grass was too slippery to grab hold of. As he got closer, he could make out a small figure leaning on the alter.
It was the same black haired boy he met three days ago, but the mark on his forehead was faded and instead of blankness his eyes were filled with emotion. His body was trembling violently; his mouth opened and out came a word.
“H-help.”
Malrium then realized that the boy had his hands over his stomach, trying to cover up what seems to be a rather bad stab wound.
He heard footsteps and a gasps behind him and saw Aides’ shoulders tensed. He turned around and immediately shouted when he saw who it was.
“Juls, go get papa, NOW!”
He turned his head back to Aides, he was relieved when the shadow-tentacle-thing let go when he crawled closer to the boy.
Malrium tried to do what he could to help, he tried to stop the bleeding with his hands, but it was still flowing out when it should be in. Aides grew paler, slowly laying onto the ground as his energy escaped him.
Malrium started panicking; tears filled in his eyes as he’s frustration grew.
“Please don’t fall asleep,” he called when he saw Aides’ eyes fluttering close, “If you go to sleep you won’t wake up again.”
He heard him muttered something as he fell unconscious. Please stop bleeding! His mind cried, STOP.
Suddenly, his hands started to glow; he could feel the power that grew in him as he willed the wound close. The wound closed slowly but steadily, in his mind’s eye he could see the insides mending together, his power made new skin to replace the old. The wound was healed and he felt tired, more tired and drained then that time he helped his papa with the firewood.
Malrium leaned forward until his head was pillowed on Aides’ chest, he could feel a soft but steady sound coming from the boy under him.
A thought threw in his mind when his eyes closed and footsteps were approaching him.
I’m a mage.
He wasn’t sure if he was happy or scared.
He was eleven when he was captured by the Templers.
After his magic manifested, his father taught him how to control his magic, warning him not to get too close to the Templers lest they find out.
Aides became his and Julvian’s brother, now recently, Carver and Bethany’s too. He couldn’t control his emotions when he first lived with them, having random mood swing and would retreat into his mind, his magic would have random outburst and he spent most of his time in door. But slowly and steadily, with his parent’s help and he and Jul’s stubbornness they managed to help him put his problems under control.
Malrium is happy with this development, he wasn’t the eldest anymore and Aides could help his father with the outdoor chores. Personally he preferred to play with his brother or help his mother with the cooking. He likes Aides a lot, too. He was smart and funny when he wants to be, though his cheeks would turn pink when they played together but his face would go back to normal when he glanced back at him.
At night, Aides would sneak into his and Juls’s bed. Awoken and trembling by his nightmares, they didn’t question him as they arranged themselves on the bed, Aides in the middle with the twins on either sides of the bed.
Malrium was healing a wounded deer out in the woods, his papa told him not to do magic where people could see him but no one was here except for Julvian and himself.
When he here someone approaching, he thought it was his twin but when he turned his head to greet him, his face paled as the sword of mercy stared back.
The templar held his arms out and walked towards him slowly as though nearing a scared animal. “Don’t panic, tell me where your parents are and talk this out.”
He tried to make a run for it but another templar came from behind him, cornering from both sides. At the corner of his eye he saw Juls hiding behind some bushes, eyes widen with fear.
Run! Malrium’s eyes screamed, Run before the Templers find papa and Aides!
He saw Juls nodding his head and dashed away, he let the Templers take him away, knowing that his family would be safe.
The Templers tried to get information out of him, way to the tried to get his name, information on his family, where did he live. Malrium remained tight lipped and only said, “My parents are dead.”
The Templers gave up, decided that he wouldn’t answer and made way towards the nearest circle.
One of them offered him cookies, his eyes kind; he didn’t look like the men papa described in his stories. Malrium didn’t know if the man was being genuinely kind or he was like the demons in the fade, tempting him with magic.
He accepted the cookie.
They were ambushed by a large group of slavers.
The man with kind eyes died trying to protect him, he fell after too many arrows through the back, his armor clanking loudly as he hit the ground. His partner died cleaved clean into halves by a huge axe.
A slaver dropped down to his height and grabbed his chin roughly, raising his eyes to meet his.
“We’ve got a pretty one boys!” he breath smelled of meat and something sour, “He’s going to fetch a good price.”
Heavy chains bounded his wrist and he was put together with other people, there were elves and humans alike, there was even a large man with horns like sheep on his head.
They reached a strange place, far from home. He could hear people talking in a strange tongue as he was led through the crowd, rich men and women dressed in beautiful and expansive robes, most of them were accompanied by s servant.
Slave, his mind supplied, and you going to be one of them.
He was bought by a man with graying hair and wicked eyes gleaming with something bad that he couldn’t describe.
Malrium broke down on his birthday that year.
He was thirteen when he met him.
Malrium was in the court yard tending to the flowers when the new slave walked by, from what he heard his whole family was bought. He was taller than most elves, black fluffy hair resting on his head like a nest. The boy must have noticed him staring because he turned to look his way. Malrium did the first thing that came to mind.
He smile and gave a small wave.
The boy looked startled, after a moment’s of hesitation, he nodded back and quickly walked away.
Malrium turned back to his work feeling happier, he thought back to the boy’s expression. I thought I saw him blushing, must be my imagination.
Days went by, he and the boy –Leto- became quick friends. At night when the city was asleep, Malrium would teach Leto how to read common, in change that Leto taught him how to speak Tevene. If the other slaves noticed their closeness, they didn’t comment on it. (He showed him his magic once, they forgo the lessons that night as Leto watched him make ice sculpture of dragons ) But the old elven woman in charge of him would mention him when they were together. “Leto is a nice boy.”
Malrium’s heart lifted when he heard his friend’s name, “Yes he is.”
“It’s good that you found a friend here, Mal.”
He gave her a grin, “You’re my friend too, Cora.”
A warm smile spread on her wrinkled face, “It would seem so.”
He wasn’t even fourteen when his master first touched him.
He was cleaning his master’s study room that afternoon, arranging the piles of notes scribbled in tevene and symbols he saw once in his p-, once.
Don’t think of them, he chanted in his head, It’s bad to think of good memories, good memories bring sadness and pain.
A shadow fell over around and he turned to see who it was.
His master –Danarius- was standing very close to him, his hips almost touching his rear. He felt shivers go down his spine when his master’s breath prickled the skin on his neck.
“I’ve watched you, little bird,” he murmured softly into his ear, “I saw you doing magic.”
Malrium scolded himself for his foolishness, he just had to heal that cat didn’t he.
Cold hands rest upon his hips, his thumbs rubbing circle into his skin. “I will forgive this time, little one, I will get a mage slave to teach you how to use the power you have. But for now, show me how you thank your master.”
His master led him to his bed chambers, ordered him to strip him and himself.
Danarius’ mouth pulled his into a punishing kiss when they were both naked, his hand handling his chin roughly as Malrium moaned. When it ended he sat down on the bed and pushed him to his knees, his eye level at his groin.
“Take it into your mouth,” he ordered. “Use those soft lips of yours.”
A small part of his mind screamed at him not to do it but its voice was distant compared to the loyal part of him.
He is your master, he owns you. His mind whispered, He’s letting you learn magic again, you should thank him.
The rebellious part of his mind cried when his lips wrapped around the tip of his master dick. He licked the tip of the shaft before pulling away, licking the sides of the dick. He didn’t know what he was doing but from the sounds his master was making he wasn’t doing bad.
Malrium took the tip into his mouth again and sucked, tongue flicking on the tip every so often. He felt a hand on his head and long fingers grab hold of his hair and pulled sharply, but no enough to pull him off.
Then the hand pushed his head down hard.
The white haired boy’s eyes widen and tried to pull back, his master allowed him to breathe but quickly forced his head down again. He throat protested when the invading organ caused discomfort but he forced the pain down and breathe through his nose. His hands were trembling on his master thighs as he did his best to take him in, he could only take in half way because of his small mouth but he did quick work on the cock. Mal flatten his tongue the best he could, hollowed his cheeks and sucked. Danarius let out a pleased sigh from above as he played with his shoulder length hair.
“You are clearly born for this, little bird.” Mal could hear the smirk in his voice, “Born to be on your knees, worshiping your master.”
The dick in his mouth began to harden and salty fluid started to flow down his throat. His master pulled his head up suddenly and ordered him into his lap.
Mal could feel the harden cock in the cleft of his ass, rubbing his asshole. Two fingers appeared force their way into his mouth and pressed down onto his tongue.
He took the cue and sucked on the digits, covering them thoroughly with saliva. His master removed them and pressed his pointer finger on his entrance.
It only accrued to him then on how far his master was going when said finger entered him.
Mal grabbed onto the older man’s shoulders and moaned as the finger worked him open, pushing in and out, not long after the second finger joined it and began scissoring roughly.
“M-master- AHH!” Mal shouted when the fingers were removed and his master’s hard shaft pushed in. As he was prepared sloppily the pain brought tears to his eyes and his fingers to tighten their hold. He cried out in pain when his master started moving.
“My my, you’re still so tight after I prepared you,” his master’s voice was filled with pleasure, his took Mal’s hardening cock into his hand and pumped. “And whats this? You naughty boy.”
Mal’s eyes snapped opened, threw his head back and screamed when he hit a certain bundle of nerve. Before he knew it he was on his back with one of his legs over Danarius’ shoulder with his pace quickened. His hands reached blindly and grabbed fitfuls of the sheets surrounding him.
Danarius’ thrust were quick and punishing, sending shocks of pain and pleasure –mostly pain- through his care, his entrance stretched wide open for the cock to push in and out. Mal was already reaching his limit when something blocked his way to release.
“I didn’t allow you to come, little bird.”
Tears streamed down his flushed face and he could feel himself drooling, “Ple-please master please It h-hurt please let- me—AAHH MASTER PLEASE—“
Danarius ignored his pleads and quicken his pace, his grip only tightened. With a grunt he came with a powerful thrust that caused Mal to moan loudly. Mal whimpered when he pulled out, but quickly realized that the grip on his dick didn’t loosen.
“You are a naughty boy, Malrium.” The hand began pumping him, causing him to moan. “I did this to you because you wanted it, you moved like a whore begging for someone to fill you up, to use you like a thing.”
He let go and Mal came with a shout. He lay there limp, covered with sweat and his own spent, he shivered as he felt fluid leaking out between his thighs. A hand brushed his sweat soaked hair from his eyes lightly.
“You belong to me and only to me,” Danarius whispered almost fondly, “I own you, your body and you soul, you understand that?”
He nodded his head.
When he walked back to the slave chambers that night, Leto was waiting at the usual spot for me. His face looked happy to see him but quickly fell when he got closer. They spent the rest of their time sitting together, his head resting on Leto’s shoulder.
The next day he was moved to the side room of his master’s chamber.
By the end of the week he became his master’s ‘entertainer.’