"Consponsata"

Quatre sat down on a ledge in the courtyard and basked in the sunlight on his skin while he waited for Trowa so they could practice the Swarli dance for Heero's upcoming coronation. It was an ancient style, dating back to the mating dances of the first Ghalians. It was slow and sensual and never failed to work Quatre into a heady arousal when Trowa stood behind him, the servant's muscled chest against his back as he held his arms out and swayed to the music. Their dance sessions frequently led to incredible sex. He and Trowa scurrying back to his chambers, often too impatient to disrobe and make their way to the bed. Quatre would find himself pushed against the wall, his cheek pressed into the plaster as Trowa lifted the skirt of his tunica. He would quickly and clumsily prepare the way and slide inside, his chest heaving against Quatre's back. 

His father was away at the Summit which made for a less formal atmosphere around the castle and Quatre readily enjoyed the slightly more relaxed environment. He had a little more freedom and less rigorous structure. The King would be back tomorrow evening. Heero would return in the morning and together, they would wait for the opportune moment to strike.

Despite his apprehension of what was to come in the coming days, he felt good. Elated and confident that everything would work according to plan. He had the utmost faith in Heero and in Trowa. He still couldn't believe he'd said he loved Heero, but it was true and he owed Trowa nothing short of complete honesty. It felt strange being in love with someone he'd really only just met. He still didn't know if Heero loved him back, but even if he didn't, Quatre hoped, with time, he would. 

He knew it was hurting Trowa and it broke his heart. He was the last person he'd ever want to hurt. It was confusing, to say the least. But he was steadfast in his determination to be a good husband to Heero. The Saian was honorable, gentle, and kind. His beauty was exotic, from the dark hair, to his golden skin, to the sharp blue eyes that could just as easily melt as they could intimidate. He wondered how things were going for him back at his village. He prayed that Heero would be accepted back into the arms of his family and friends. He deserved that. He wondered how he would be received when he finally met them. It probably wouldn't be an easy task to learn to trust a Ghalian, but he hoped he would be able to earn it.

His musings were interrupted when he heard the sound of footsteps fast approaching and spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head just as Treize stopped in front of him and Quatre barely had time to even stand up before he was struck across the face with the back of the man's hand. His cheek exploded with pain, the delicate skin splitting beneath the powerful impact and he tipped over backwards, falling off the ledge and nearly snapping his neck. He groaned and rolled onto his side. Treize rounded the edge of the wall and grabbed his hair. Quatre hissed in pain as his head was wrenched up, hands scrabbling to pry the rigid fingers out of his hair. Treize crouched down until his face was level with Quatre's own. There's was a flash of teeth as his lip curled.

"Hello, beloved. May I have this dance?"

Quatre yelped as he was lifted up and thrown over the man's shoulder. He hung upside down, the blood from his cheek dripping onto the ground. He yelled and hollered and screamed, banging his fists on the General's back, his legs kicking as he was carried into the castle. 

"Let me go, you vile, twisted -"

"I would advise you to keep your mouth shut from now on, Your Highness. Things are about to go from bad to worse for you."

"This is an outrage! I command you to put me down. When my father hears about this -"

"Your father?" Treize laughed. "He's the one that gave me the authority, or have you forgotten the last six months? When he returns, he will find out about your little plan to do away with him, and me, I might add. Sufficed to say, he will be quite disappointed in you, Quatre."

He froze, his heart speeding up. Treize had discovered their plan. But how?

"Oh, yes. You have gotten yourself into quite a spot of trouble, my young Prince. You and your servant."

Quatre gasped at the mention of Trowa and struggled harder. "What have you done to him? Where is he? So help me if you've hurt him -"

"You are in no position to make threats, my dear. Your pathetic servant is just fine. For now. But he will be executed for his treason."

"No," Quatre breathed. "No, please! You can't hurt him, please don't hurt him!"

"I think you might want to worry about yourself, beloved."

Quatre recognized the route they were taking through the corridors, realized where they were going. It could only mean bad things for him. "No! Let me go, please. I'm sorry!"

"It's too late for that."

Quatre fought against him, kicked against his chest, pounded on his back, but his efforts were fruitless. He hung on Treize's shoulder, limp with resignation as he was carried into the General's chambers. He groaned with helpless rage when he noticed the chains clamped around the bedposts. Treize threw him down onto the bed and Quatre immediately rolled over, trying to crawl away. Treize grabbed his legs and yanked him back, climbing onto the bed, draping himself over the Prince.

"Please don't do this. Please just let me go."

Treize didn't answer. He grabbed a bony wrist and encircled the steel cuff around it and did the same with his other wrist. Quatre's arms were stretched over his head and he pulled on the chains, twisting his wrists in a desperate attempt to get free. The cuffs were far too tight. He'd never be able to get his hands through them. 

The General's hands traveled over his body, sliding up beneath the tunica. He pulled aside the front wrapping that covered his chest and sucked a nipple into his mouth. Quatre turned his head away and bit his lip, trying not to make a sound as the long skirt of his tunica was lifted, baring his lower body. He pressed his legs together in a vain attempt to cover himself and spoke through clenched teeth.

"Heero is going to have your head for this."

Treize huffed a soft laugh against his chest, his hand sliding between Quatre's thighs. He tensed as the calloused palm cupped his groin. He had to bite down on his tongue as the deceitfully gentle touch sent sparks of electricity throughout his body and he mentally begged his cock not to harden. The General pushed the fabric of his tunica up over his belly and trailed soft kisses onto the twitching muscles of his abdomen.

"He will not be allowed back into the kingdom," Treize murmured against his skin.

"You can't do that! He is Ghalian royalty!"

"He is an outsider and does not belong with us."

"The law -" He was interrupted as Treize laughed again. 

"You overestimated your father's principles. He has no regard for the laws of the monarchy. He will thank me for taking this matter into my own hands. He will enjoy washing his hands of this sham of a marriage." His mouth reached Quatre's groin and he buried his face between the trembling thighs, emitting lustful groans against the boy's creamy skin. 

Quatre's hips jolted from the vibrations and he desperately tried to stall him. It was all he could do. "You won't get away with this."

"Who's going to stop us? Stop me?" Treize nipped at the skin of his inner thigh. "Your servant is in the dungeons. Heero will die the moment he steps foot into Ghali. Your father will render your marriage worthless -"

"We were married by an Imam!"

"And your friend, Rashid, is also facing execution. For ignoring the King's wishes and breaking our betrothal is tantamount to treason."

"The people will never stand for the murder of a holy man."

"The people are nothing but a bunch of mindless fools who will believe whatever they are told." He huffed a breath over Quatre's cock, smiling as it twitched and began to swell. "You're becoming aroused."

"I am not."

"You are. As for you, my beloved betrothed. Our marriage will commence as scheduled and you will spend the rest of your days submitting yourself to me."

"I will never submit to you."

"But, you will. You already have." Treize opened his mouth and swallowed the boy's cock and Quatre gritted his teeth, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes as the unwanted pleasure filled him with a warmth he despised. He turned to hide his face into his arm, flushing with shame as his thighs were pushed apart and shoved up to his chest. His stomach lurched as Treize's mouth traveled down to tongue his opening.

"I hate you so much." Quatre said brokenly. 

Treize lifted up, pressing his hips into the space between his legs. Quatre clenched his eyes shut as the tip of the man's erection rubbed over his entrance and bit down on his lips when Treize pressed forward, breaching him. He hooked the boy's legs over his arms and thrust in, his hips flush against the Prince's ass. Quatre refused to shout, refused to cry. He endured the rape in silence just as he had his whipping. Treize growled into his ear, making his hair stand on end.

"I'm going to make you scream."

Quatre shook his head, digging his teeth into his tongue. He gasped involuntarily as a calloused palm closed around his cock and his back arched when Treize deliberately angled his erection to brush against the place inside him that made his body sing with pleasure. He kept up the assault against that sensitive spot and Quatre thrashed his head, in frenzied denial as he felt his body climbing higher and higher towards an orgasm he didn't want. It was the ultimate humiliation. Becoming aroused and climaxing from his own rape. Treize grinned at him, shark-like, driven now to see his beautiful concubine come all over himself at his subjugation. He leaned down and suckled on a tiny nipple, grinding his cock against the boy's prostate and he closed his eyes in bliss when Quatre unleashed an ear-piercing scream and ejaculated. The contractions of the boy's sinfully tight ass rippled around his cock and he pressed himself in all the way and climaxed deep inside him, claiming him for his own. 

He caught his breath, his spent cock vibrating with pleasure as he pulled it out and lowered the boy's shaking legs onto the bed. They flopped limply to the sides and Treize watched his own seed drip from the stretched opening. Quatre's head was turned to the side, his eyes distant, far away. The porcelain skin of his wrists was already beginning to redden beneath the cuffs. It was the most erotic sight Treize had ever seen and he knew the beauty of it would be burned onto the backs of his eyelids for years to come.

He climbed off the bed and dressed himself, tucking his satiated cock back into his trousers. Quatre remained motionless and silent, his tunica rucked up around his waist, his legs splayed open carelessly, his seed cooling on his belly. Treize grasped the boy's chin and turned his head, looking into dull, sightless eyes. He captured Quatre's lips between his own, pushing his tongue into the boy's mouth. Still no reaction. He smirked and breathed against the pliant mouth, "I have duties to attend to, but I will be back soon, my beloved. I look forward to becoming even more...acquainted with your body." Quatre didn't respond, not even a flicker of his eyes. Treize walked to the door, pausing and looking over his shoulder at the debauched, degraded Prince. The boy appeared limp, lifeless, as if he was already broken. He smiled and left the room, closing the door behind him.

He felt on top of the world as he swaggered through the long, winding hallways and down the stairs, a decided spring in his step as he reached the dungeons. Trowa was in the last cell at the far end of the corridor. The light from the torches did not reach that corner and Treize could barely make out the huddled form in the murky darkness. He stepped up to the bars, squinting to make out the faint outline of Trowa's legs, pulled up to his chest.

"Are you still alive?"

No answer. Treize lifted his chin. "I'm here to inform you that your trial will begin at dawn -"

"Why even bother?" Came the almost muted reply.

"Excuse me?"

"You're going to find me guilty no matter what and you're going to execute me. Why even bother with the pretense of a trial?" The servant's head lifted and even though Treize could not make out his expression, he knew the boy was glaring at him. 

"Ghalians are a lawful people and we do things according to -"

"Horse dung."

Treize bristled. "Do you deny that you were plotting to kill me?"

Trowa was quiet for a moment and Treize thought he wasn't going to answer. "No."

"What?"

"I said, no. I do not deny it."

"That's what I thought -"

"And I am going to kill you."

Treize lifted his lip in a sneering grin. "While I admire your diligence, you are sadly mistaken."

"Where's Quatre?"

"Why should I tell you?"

"Does it matter? It's not as if there's anything I can do about it. So, where is he?"

Treize leaned forward smiling like the cat that got the cream, intent on provocation. "In my chambers, chained to my bed."

There was a pause, then a soft growl. "You sick, twisted bastard."

Treize leaned back on his heels, bouncing slightly as he grinned at the prisoner. "At any rate, you will be dead in less than two days and so will Prince Heero once he tries to step foot inside Ghali. In seven days, Quatre and I will be married. On our wedding night, I will dispose of the King and take the throne for myself. Your beloved Quatre will spend the rest of his days in servitude as my concubine."

Trowa husked out a derisive laugh. "You're delusional. It'll never happen."

Treize cocked his head. "What makes you say that?"

"Because I'm still going to kill you."

He smirked. "However you need to entertain yourself to pass the time, I suppose. It's no matter. Your final days are upon you."

"I will take you down with me."

"Threats will do you no favors."

"It's not a threat. It's a promise. If I die, I will take you with me. If I don't die, I will still kill you."

Treize tried to ignore the tiny jolt of uncertainty at the tone in the servant's voice. It wasn't just anger, or the wish for vengeance. There was truth in that voice. Like he knew what was going to happen. Treize faltered, just briefly, and covered it up with his usual bravado. 

"Only in your dreams, boy. Savor this night and the next. For they will be your last." He turned on his heel and left the dungeon. The King was due to arrive tomorrow evening and Treize was looking forward to sharing with him the new developments. He would be thrilled to know that Treize had thwarted the coup. He'd also brought his wayward son under a firm hand, as commanded. Quatre would no longer be a problem.

In a week, they would be married and Treize would continue with his plan to kill the King and take his place at the throne. Soon, all of Ghali would bow at his feet. He could smell the victory in the air. Taste the power, now within reach. Once the deed was done, he would celebrate with his men, indulging on wine and whores until the early hours of morning, then return to his chambers to be with his beautiful Prince and relay the news that his father was gone. There wasn't much love lost between the two. The real pain would be knowing that there was no hope. His servant and his fly-by-night husband both dead and his true husband, the General-turned-King with the entire kingdom at his fingertips.

Quatre had a long stretch of training ahead of him, learning the submissive ways of a concubine, but learn he would. He would fight as he was wont to do, but he would inevitably succumb knowing he had no ground to stand on, no one to turn to. And when he was ready, he would be brought out to kneel before the kingdom, not as their Prince, but as the King's slave. The jewels of his bonds, shining as brightly as the jewels of his tears as he was forced to the floor, his beautiful body scantily clad so that there would be no question what his true purpose was. He would sit silently and obediently at his King's, his Master's feet and rest his head upon Treize's thigh, closing his eyes as the King stroked his hair. And at night, he would lie in Treize's bed and open those lovely legs in supplication, sobbing in pleasure as his Master took him. 

Treize's dominion was almost at hand. Within the week, the thorns in his side would be eliminated. There was just one more he needed to tend to. He walked the corridors to the wing of the castle where the elite members of the army resided. He knocked on one of the doors and waited patiently. It opened only slightly, a pale blue eye peeking out at him. Treize smiled as the eye widened and then the door swung open.

"General," the surprise in his Lieutenant's voice was clearly evident. No, not surprise. Fear. The Lieutenant's voice shook with it. General Treize was not known to make house calls. "What can I do for you, Sir?"

Treize gestured a hand inside, flashing white teeth in cheerful greeting. "May I come in, Lieutenant?"

Zechs shifted uneasily. "W - well...my wife -"

"Oh, don't worry, Zechs," he said, his voice syrupy. "This concerns her, too."

The Lieutenant's face paled. Treize could see his pulse pounding beneath the skin of his neck. Quick like a jack rabbit. "Sir?"

"Now, now, Zechs. Don't play me for a fool. I know full well what you've been up to and you know full well what would happen if you ever betrayed me. Now...let me in. We have much to discuss."

Zechs' eyes were pleading. "Please, Sir. Do what ever you want to me, but please do not hurt my wife. I beg you."

Treize grinned and cocked his head. His voice was soft but laced with deadly threat. "Are you going to let me in, or am I going to have to force my way in?"