I've been dying to do a MarthxRoy fanfic, so… here it is! It's a bit more angst-filled than my normal antics, but I still love it. It's, by far, my favorite Fic that I've written yet!
Disclaimer: If I owned SSBM, it wouldn't be rated E, and "Screw" would be an action command.
Warnings: Yaoi, slavery, rape, and Pyro's sick mind. Yup.
Just a suggestion: This story makes the most sense if you read it s-l-o-w-l-y.
Marth woke from his slumber, shaking. The dream just kept coming back, night after night…. He couldn't seem to suppress it, even for one six-hour period.
The dream was about the night he arrived at this hell. He awoke every night, shivering and wishing he were dead. His recollection of the first night always scared him more than anything that had happened since. Of course, every day was as bad as the first, but on the first night, he hadn't known what was coming. He had been afraid of the unknown. At least now, he knew what he feared, and he was able to face it; to block it out as much as he could…
He shivered again, this time from the cold. All he had to wear were silk pants, studded with sapphires. As expensive as they were, they offered no protection from the cold and dark that closed around him. His bare chest shook from the cold, and he wrapped his arms around himself. He wore small silver bands around his wrists, reminders of who he belonged to; reminders of who he would always loathe.
He sat up in his small bed. His soft mattress creaked underneath him, and his thin silk covers slid off of him.
His pale body shook again as he glared out the barred window. It was winter… the season for selling.FLASHBACK
Leering eyes, cold as death, focused on Marth. He stood there, eyes wide with fear, for what seemed like eternity as the crowd of greedy slave traders scrutinized him. He shivered at their intense stares; as he pulled at the shackles binding him to the stage, he bit back a shout of agony. How he hated being bound and defenseless!
He felt himself gasp faintly as the announcer's sharp voice split through the nearly silent clearing. He realized, with a jolt, that he would be sold. He was being sold to a slave owner that would work him harshly. He probably wouldn't get enough food, not enough sleep, and in the end, he would wind up dead, as soon as his usefulness ends.
The struggles against the rusty shackles binding him began once more, as his eyes grew wide with realization. I'm going to be sold!
He cried out in pain and his struggles ceased as he felt white-hot cuts streak across his back.
He collapsed onto the rough wooden stage. Twisting his head around, still wincing in raw pain, he saw a slave driver holding a whip. As his sapphire eyes narrowed, he noticed a long metal strip along the end of it…
"Gentlemen, this one was brought from quite a ways away… and what a beauty he is!"
Marth turned to the announcer as his cruel black eyes bore into him, just as commanding as the whip. "Take a good look at his body…" He strode over to Marth, grabbed his chin, and jerked him into a standing position. "Strong chest, muscular legs, and a beautiful face."
The announcer grabbed his arm and jerked him around so that he was facing away from the greedy-eyed audience. Marth flinched as his back throbbed, but he had no choice but to obey. "Now, his back is marred and his shoulder is scratched, but what difference will that make? It's never stopped anyone before…" He let his voice trail off as the audience murmured in quiet agreement. Turning Marth back around, he fixed the audience with a grin.
"So… how much do we hear for him?"
Marth panicked at these words. He jerked his face away from his captor, and cried out, "I will be owned by no person but myself!" He struggled fruitlessly at his bindings, using every curse he knew and twisting his arms and legs around in a vain attempt to free himself.
Some members of the audience laughed at this show; some of them scowled at the way the slave dare act in front of this large crowd.
In between his dire struggles, Marth caught sight of a man dressed in mauve, wearing a horrible sneer at the front of the crowd. The rest of the men at the gathering seemed to either respect him, or fear him.
The announcer caught Marth's injured shoulder and gripped it in a rough hold. Marth cried out in agony; his entire body screamed at him to get away from the man. He pulled back his fist, and hit him as hard as he could.
Most of the members of the crowd gasped; the man in mauve simply maintained his appalling sneer. The announcer gaped before turning his angry eyes to Marth.
The last thing Marth recalled was a searing pain in the back of his head before feeling the rough texture of wood beneath his cheek.
Marth shivered at his stone prison. Reliving that horrible night every time he awoke was taking a physical toll on his body.
But nothing, he decided, was as horrible as what happened when I awoke…
When he reached semi-consciousness, Marth immediately knew that something was terribly wrong. The most recent chain of events came flooding back to him in torrents, making him feel ill and revolted. It was then that he noticed a hand exploring his body.
He jumped, or as close to it as he could, as he was on the ground. He forced his eyelids open to glare at his offender, and he locked eyes with the scariest man he had ever seen.
It wasn't that the man was ugly. Far from it, in fact. He had flame-colored hair, about as long as Marth's. His eyes were black, an odd color. He looked to be about 30. He had a commanding air about him. All instincts Marth had were telling him that this was a man to fear.
Marth took in everything about him, and it was then that he noticed his purple tunic. It was the mauve-clad man from the auction.
He laughed softly as Marth fixed cold eyes on his. "My name is Toren."
"Toren… what do you want with me?" Marth asked, blearily.
Suddenly, Marth felt something heavily connect with his head for the second time that day. Struggling to remain conscious, he barely heard the man say, in a soft, dangerous voice, "My name may be Toren, but you are never to call me such. You may call me… master."
Marth sighed as he leaned against the stone wall. Life had been hell for him the past two months at Toren's mansion. At first, he had resisted Toren, the one he was to call "Master". But he slowly felt his soul breaking, cracking under everything he put him through…
Marth glanced around at the bathroom he was trapped in. It was rich and colorful, with gold inlayed everywhere, and silver, sapphires, and rubies scattered about the place. He whirled around as the door opened, and a small servant boy came in and handed Marth a pair of silk pants.
Marth slipped them on. They were a soft color of blue; almost transparent, he realized, with a sickening jolt.
The servant boy handed him a small bundle of other things, wrapped, of course, in a small silk cloth. Everything seemed to be made of silk here.
He unwrapped it, and found a pair of silver bands to loop around his wrists. They fit well, but he still despised them for what they represented.
He also found a small sapphire earring. Not knowing what to do with it, he left it in the silk wrapping. He hadn't gotten his ear pierced; that was something his father wouldn't stand for him to do. My father… he thought, with a sad frown. I'm sorry. I've let you down. I cannot even avenge you. I am trapped here…
He felt a presence behind him, and he whirled around to see Toren standing behind him, looking him up and down.
"If I am to be your slave, why do you dress me in such fine apparel?" Marth asked, coldly.
"Why, you do not appreciate all that I have given you?" He asked, with a mock frown. "And…you are to be my slave, but did anyone ever mention manual labor?"
As Marth frowned, trying to discern some meaning from this riddle, Toren snapped his fingers, and another slave came forth.
"Come, if you are that confused, let me show you."
Seeing that he had no choice but to follow, he obeyed, and walked behind Toren through the hall and into a large bedroom two doors down.
Toren held the door open for him, with a mock bow, and then closed it and locked it upon entering.
Marth became nervous as Toren circled around him. "What do you want with me, Toren?" He demanded, glaring.
"I told you…" He said, quietly. "Call me master!"
And with that, he lunged at Marth. Toren dragged him onto the large bed, strapped his silver wrist bands onto a lock on the headboard, and proceeded to strip him down of what little clothing he was wearing.
Toren's eyes shone with lust as he stared down at Marth, haughty black meeting fearful sapphire. Marth's eyes widened in pure terror, and he was unable to speak. Marth felt Toren explore his body, at first carefully and then more forcefully.
And suddenly, Marth felt a searing pain between his legs, and he cried out in anguish.
An hour later, Marth was dumped, crying, into his dark cell. Pain was all that he felt; he wasn't even aware of the tears streaming down his pale face. He didn't even have the strength to lift himself up onto his bed. He lay on his dirt floor, wishing he were dead, hoping that he could forget what Toren had done to him, hating the pain that simmered between his legs…
Marth shivered at the very memory. His icy demeanor was momentarily broken as tears threatened to fall. No, he thought. I cannot cry. I would only make it worse…
He reached his hand up, and touched the large sapphire pendant that had been thrust through his ear. Still remembering the day he had gotten it, he pulled his hand away as if it had caught fire. He still remembered it, far too clearly.
Marth was lying in his cell, trembling. He hadn't gotten to sleep at all that night; the pain kept him awake for God knows how long. He heard a door creak open a few feet from the iron door in front of him, and flinched at the sudden lack of silence.
Suddenly, a bright light filled the room, and a creaking of metal could be heard. Marth was almost blinded as light flowed in, drinking up the darkness, and making him narrow his eyes in a squint.
Toren stood in the doorway. Marth subconsciously moved back against the wall, away from the red-haired man. His sapphire eyes widened in fear, remembering what he had done to him just the night before.
"My dear pet… my jewel among stones… what shall I do with you?" He asked, lazily.
Marth had just enough time to wonder what he meant, before Toren strode over to him.
Fear shooting through his body, he stiffened and waited for Toren to come and do what he had feared he would all night.
But, instead, he stopped, and cupped Marth's face in his hand. "Why do you not wear your earring?" he asked, quietly.
"I… I do not have my ear pierced… Master…" He said, quietly and fearfully.
"Well…" Toren drawled. "Come with me, then…"
He grabbed Marth by the arm and dragged him up. Dragging him through the iron door and down the hall, he led him into a room with an assortment of daggers and picks hanging across the four white walls.
"Close your eyes and don't move," Toren instructed, "Or I'll have to… punish you."
Marth knew full well what kind of "punishment" that would be, and realizing that that was worse than anything Toren could do to him at the moment, he closed his eyes.
Marth heard Toren shuffling away, and a soft clinking of metal from the other side of the room. He stiffened as he sensed Toren behind him again, and he felt something cold press lightly against his ear. Realizing what it was at the last moment, his eyes flew open as he cried out in pain.
Slowly removing the pick from Marth's earlobe, he smiled unpleasantly as he examined the small hole he had put through it… just the size for the small sapphire earring.
Marth touched his earring again. It was the exact color of his eyes. His "Master" had arranged that. He detested it; it symbolized everything he had grown to hate in the past two months.
He rested his head against the wall, careful to avoid his earring. He momentarily wondered what Toren did to all of the other slaves, before drifting off into a dreamless sleep.
Marth's heart filled with dread as the brown-haired servant led him to the room he dreaded the most: The room with that giant bed, the headboard with a lock, the horrible oak door that he had watched swing closed thousands of time, marking the pain that was to come…
Upon entering, he didn't receive the normal, carnivorous, lust-filled look from Toren. Toren was sitting in a chair in the corner, looking smug and jaded at the same time.
"Hello, my pet. I have gotten bored of our dull games, and I've decided to try something new today."
Marth inwardly cursed. What could this man be planning? Weren't their 'dull games' enough torture to endure already?
Toren's smug smile grew wider as Marth glowered at the red-haired man. He was tired, and he didn't want to put up with this. He didn't fear this man as much as he used to. "What are you planning, you disgusting demon?"
Marth heard a small tap at the door.
"Come in." Toren's smug voice clearly stated that he had been expecting them.
A large-muscled servant entered, dragging a red-haired boy that looked to be only 17; a year younger than Marth. The boy was struggling weakly against his bond. He looked like he had already given up on escape, and he was simply waiting for something to happen.
He glowered at Toren as he entered, but was too tired to say anything at all.
Toren didn't bother returning the gaze. He simply nodded at the guard to dismiss him. The guard released his hold on Roy, and left the room.
"Marth. Dear Pet. Meet my newest… servant."
Marth tore his glaring gaze away from Toren, and fixed it on the new arrival.
He had blue shirt, tan pants, and a blue breastplate encrusted with rubies. His fire-red hair was messy and slightly dirty. He was glancing around the room.
"Marth, this is my newest plaything, Roy." Toren smiled cruelly up at him, daring him to speak against him.
"Now, Marth… this new arrival hasn't… fully met me yet."
Marth flinched away from the man, knowing all to clearly what he was implying.
"What are you planning, you disgusting man?" He demanded again, in a low voice.
Roy glared around the room, quickly taking in his surroundings. A large bed with an interesting lock attachment on the headboard… what could that be for?… a soft chair in the corner, a dresser with rubies and sapphires encrusted into the mirror…
The two men in the room were Toren, his "master", and a blue-haired man he hadn't met. He had been told that his name was Marth.
He had aqua-blue hair, cold eyes, pale skin, and a slim body. He was wearing silk pants of teal, and he had silver rings around his wrists. His chest was exposed and pale, though he clearly had the muscles of a swordsman. Fixing an even closer look at the man, he noticed a sapphire earring, the same color as his icy eyes, on his left ear. He looked more like royalty than a servant. What kind of place was this?
He glanced up just in time to hear Toren say, "This new arrival hasn't… fully met me yet."
Seeing Marth flinch away, he sensed that Marth got a deeper meaning out of that sentence than he had.
"What are you planning, you disgusting man?" Marth growled at Toren.
All things considered, it seemed that he and Marth were on the same side.
"Well, you see, my pets… I've gotten bored with simply taking advantage of our blue-haired friend here…" He let his voice trail off, and waved an arm lazily at Marth. "So, I've planned something… interesting… to do instead."
The wheels in Roy's mind were turning, and suddenly clicked. "You mean to tell me that we're… pleasure slaves?" He growled, angrily.
"Yes, indeed you are." Toren answered, with a smile. "Now. It's too much trouble to remember both of your names… so, since you are both jewels among stones… beauty among the broken… I shall call you Ruby and Sapphire."
Roy was still panicking about learning what he had now become. He barely even heard him speak, until Toren beckoned for him to come forth.
"My Ruby, come here." Toren motioned toward Roy.
Roy scowled at the name, but he was forced to obey. Toren had a knife at his belt, he noticed; and he wouldn't like to be at the tip of it any time soon.
Toren fingered with Roy's overshirt for a moment, almost lazily. Slowly slipping his hands under it, removing his armor and overshirt, he laughed softly as Roy shivered as the taller man slowly removed his clothing.
"I can already tell that you will make a good pet."
"I am no one's pet." He spat back.
Roy bit back a yell and stumbled backwards as Toren began to run his hand down Roy's bare chest.
He laughed softly. "It only gets worse from here. Don't you agree, Sapphire?"
He turned his gaze to Marth, with a soft laugh.
Marth turned away from him, glaring off into the corner of the room. A soft flush of fury powdered his pale cheeks, Roy noticed. He wondered what Toren had done to him to make him like this.
"Now. My Ruby and Sapphire, my two precious gems…"
He beckoned for Marth to come closer as well, so that they were both standing in front of the tall, red-haired man.
"I want you two to… get to know each other."
The way he said those words made Roy's blood run cold. Get to know each other? He couldn't mean….
"Now, Sapphire… you've been with me for nearly two months now, no?" Toren asked, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "How about you… show him how it's done?"
Roy and Marth turned to each other, Roy with fear, and Marth with a mixture of sorrow and regret. Marth squeezed his eyes shut, and for a second, he looked like he was about to refuse.
Suddenly, Marth opened his eyes, and whispered, "I'm sorry, Roy." With that, he grabbed him, dragged him to the bed, and ripped his remaining clothing off of him.
As Marth stared down at the redheaded stranger's exposed body, he began to cry for the first time since Toren had raped him. He could see himself in the boy, so scared and defenseless, not knowing what would come next.
"Get on with it, boy!" Toren shouted from his chair. "Entertain me."
Marth closed his eyes painfully, and then slipped his silk pants off his own pale hips.
"Oh, Roy, I'm… I'm so sorry…" He whispered again, his tears falling onto Roy's pale face.
Roy's eyes were wide; he knew what was about to happen, but he didn't want to believe it… it was if he was watching it in slow motion, as Marth's slender body slowly moved down Roy's, slowly lowering so that their skin was touching…
Suddenly, Roy felt a searing pain. He screamed, the shrill sound piercing air; the pain was too much to stand…
And then, it was over. Marth suddenly rolled off of Roy, and collapsed in a corner, now sobbing, hating himself for what he had done.
Roy gasped for air. He was shaking everywhere, and he didn't even notice a stream of tears flowing down his face.
Neither of the boys noticed Toren's leering stare, or his contemplating look. He had enjoyed this show very much, but this was not what he had taught Marth to do. He had taught him to extend the pleasure; he didn't know why he cut off the show so early.
He would have to show them what to do the next time the three of them met.
He clapped for the guards, and they hurried into the room to lead the two boys away.
Marth and Roy were dumped into the same cell. Marth was discarded onto the bed he had slept in the night before, and Roy was tossed onto the one diagonal from it.
They were still both completely naked, exposed; they hadn't even had the chance to put their clothes back on before being dragged out of Toren's room. Marth managed to pull his pants back on; after two months of practice, he was getting good at summoning up one last bit of strength, even through his fear, self-hatred and exhaustion. Roy just lay there, in a heap on his bed.
"I'm s-sorry…" Marth choked out. "I…"
Roy managed to drag his eyes away from the ceiling to fix them wearily on Marth. He focused on Marth's face for just a moment, before closing his eyes. His face still remained in a bitter expression, but somehow, he looked at peace.
Marth crawled over to Roy, and he briefly wondered if he had died. Seeing that his strong chest was rising and falling, he sighed, half with relief and half with exhaustion.
Taking the opportunity to look at his body, he looked over the boy named Roy. He was built very similarly to the way Marth was, except a few inches shorter. He had fiery red hair that was mussed and looked eternally messy. And his face… his face was so beautiful that it was almost angelic. His dark eyelashes fluttered against his pale skin, and his mouth was slightly open in his sleep.
Marth smiled, just a little bit, for the first time in two months. He gently lifted Roy up, praying that he wouldn't wake… and thankfully, he didn't. He set him up against the stone wall, and walked over to the door. The guards had left a small package, wrapped in silk… the package with Roy's new clothes.
He opened it up, and pulled out a pair of red silk pants. They were almost the exact color of his hair. The rubies strewn across them were gleaming in the pale moonlight through the barred window. He walked over to Roy, and carefully slipped them over his waist, keeping in mind the parts of his body that he knew were aching at the moment. He had done this many times before, as well, and he knew what Roy was going through.
Returning to the silk package, he saw a golden pair of armbands, almost identical to his own silver pair. Fighting the temptation to hurl them out the window, knowing what they would soon be used for, he slowly put them back into the package. He would let Roy put them on himself. It just didn't seem right to be the person who put these disgusting restricts on the innocent redhead.
Shifting through the package, he spotted the thing he had been dreading seeing: A ruby earring. Glancing over at Roy, he determined that he did not already have his ears pierced. With a sad sigh, he wrapped the contents in their silk binding, and set it on the edge of Roy's bed.
Slipping Roy back down into a sleeping position, Marth slipped the boy's arms and legs under the thin silk sheets. They offered almost no reprieve from the cold, but somehow, they were comforting to you when you woke up in the morning.
Sinking into his own mattress, he thought, That is two men I have now slept with… one I hate, and one I barely know. When will this cruel game end?
END OF CHAPTER ONE
Author Note: After being forced to have sex with Roy, Marth feels horrible about it because he was forced to do exactly what Toren did to him when he was first brought to his mansion. Just thought I'd clear that up.
Sorry if this fic is a little angsty. I gotta get my angst out somehow. Besides… it'll get happier later. Probably. –grins-
Review? I, personally, think that this is definitely one of the better fics I've done. I'll put the second chapter up soon, so be ready and waiting!