The Phoenix Key

\"The Phoenix Key\"

By: Delilah deSora

Pagan_nyght@yahoo.com



Chapter 2



**



Family is a wonderful thing. It’s so full of potential. Who else could kill you over such a trivial thing as material wealth if not your own family?

-Ivan Tsaravich



**



Ivan kept his head down and his gaze soft as he ate dinner that night. He obviously wasn’t in the Tsar’s favor at the moment though it appeared no one seemed to realize it. The women were on still situated on either side of him and his father’s soldiers still hated him but it was only a seething hatred of something they couldn’t touch rather than the burning hatred of something they could actually hurt.



Even his brothers seemed unaware of how far he’d fallen.



It was turning out to be just another uncomfortable dinner and Ivan was preparing to slip out when something caught his eye. A flash of golden hair caught the light, in a place where it shouldn’t have been.



His green eyes narrowed as he watched the woman he had once planned to make his Tsarina try to catch Vasiliy’s attention. Elena didn’t appear to be doing anything suspicious other than trying to bring his more cultured brother into conversation but Ivan didn’t care. She’d just given him a wonderful idea.



Leaning back in his chair and drinking his coffee he gave her a sly smile when she looked his way. A moment of confusion passed her face as he saluted her before she turned away from him and back to her gaggle of maids.



Let her wonder. He mused happily. She wouldn’t be left to wonder long.



That night he snuck out through a passage he could find blindfolded and half asleep. A childhood of running from brothers and father had provided him with more knowledge of the ancient palace than even his father had. Dusty stairs and unused hallways through darkened halls took him to a door hidden by centuries of overgrowth. By the door he called and waited u a g a grey form appeared beside him.



“I have need of a favor.” He whispered into the furred ear. “The Tsar was unimpressed with my actions the other day.”



The wolf stared at him in surprise. “You saved his life and he was unimpressed?”



“My father never was one to make sense. Please turn yourself into my brother Vasiliy. Stay out of the real Vasiliy’s way and don’t get caught but start talking to people about you being a better choice for Tsar. Don’t be too obvious about it but be sure you’re heard and people know its you.”



The wolf blinked at him. “How will this help you?”



Ivan grinned. “You will see. Do it for three days and then leave. I believe that will be sufficient for my father to have taken notice and gotten angry.”



Furred shoulders shrugged. “When shall I start?”



“Now.”



Three days later Ivan walked into the main hall to find it in an uproar and had to suppress a smirk as the Tsar landed another blow to his son’s jaw. He had no love for Vasiliy, whose pride was only surpassed by his vanity. In Ivan’s opinion it would do his brother some good to live with a smashed nose.



It was a pity he was here to save him.



“My lord!” He cried hurrying to the Tsar’s side but careful to stay out of reach.



Black eglarglared at him sharply. “What is it, Ilyia? I didn’t call you.”



Ivan gave the correct cowering bow. “My lord I have something I believe you should see.”



For a moment he expected the Tsar to throw him out but the man seemed to repress his violent urges. “What?”



Reaching into his sleeve he produced a piece of torn cloth. “I found this in the corridor this morning, my lord, where lord Vasiliy was said to be. I believe it is from one of his shirts.”



The Tsar peered at it and shrugged. “So?”



“It has been drenched in magic, my lord, see?” Ivan summoned the small amount of magic he possessed to make the cloth glow faintly. Any sorcerer would have immediately recognized the trick but Ivan, thankfully, was the only sorcerer in residence.



As he expected everyone who could see the cloth fell back with a gasp. Vislav stared at it as though it were the most fascinating thing he had ever set eyes upon.



“I believe someone has been using it to impersonate lord Vasiliy to throw him out of favor.” Ivan explained when it became apparent that nobody was going to make the required leap in logic.



Vislav blinked twice and then whirled upon his guard. “Find who has done this!”



They scrambled over each other to get out of the room. Ivan bowed deeply to the Tsar and turned to leave, hardly able to hide his smile.



“Ilyia, wait! I will have words with you.”



Ivan turned and bowed again as the Tsar waved his towards one of the sitting rooms he used as a meeting place. Once there Vislav again peered at the ing ing cloth. “This is true then?” He asked.



Ivan gave him a sorrowful look. “I’m afraid it is, my lord.”



“Do you know who could do this?”



“No, but without this cloth I do no believe he will be able to continue with this deception.”



Vislav nodded thoughtfully. “Wait here.” He ordered before disappearing out the door. Ivan stood silently by the fireplace, privately congratulating himself. He wished he could have done it without clearing his brother but he was willing to make some sacrifices to get what he wanted.



The door ed aed again and he straightened up, forcing a presentable façade. Vislav eyed him for a moment, twisting something between his massive hands.



“You have done me a great service, Ilyia. I reward that in my men. Here, I give this to you for the period of a week,” he smiled, “I believe you will find it satisfactory.”



Ivan’s hands closed about a steel key and he couldn’t suppress the smile that spread across his face. “I’m sure I will, my lord. I’m sure I will.”



**



The phoenix and the firebird both are said to be female, to the contrary I can assure you that they are very male.

-Ivan Tsaravich



**



Excited and a bit breathless, Ivan found himself before the thick door. It was one of a hundred nameless doors scattered throughout the palace. Behind each Vislav stored his one passion.



Magic.



The Tsar was too much of a dunce to ever learn the art that came with shaping and controlling such things but that didn’t lessen his desire to possess them. And possess them he did. If it was magical in nature and came within Vislav’s grasp it was spirited away and hidden behind a steel door.



All except Ivan himself, although he suspected such could be said for him as well. He was at the Tsar’s mercy. Vislav allowed him free reign of the palace because he loved to parade his pet sorcerer before his subjects but Ivan knew that if he ever tried to escape he’d find himself locked in a small dark room just like all of Vislav’s other possessions.



He was thankful, Ivan mused as he fitted the key to the lock and turned it, that the Tsar was satisfied with bits of illusion and the showier the better. Ivan had not been born a sorcerer and five years was hardly training enough for the world to consider him a real sorcerer but Vislav didn’t seem to care. In fact being given the key proved that he was more than just taken with his new toy.



Ivan grimaced. He’d spent the first nineteen years of his life being his father’s toy and now he had returned, not to be Vislav’s Ivan, toy soldier son, but as Ilyia, toy sorcerer. He sighed and pushed such thoughts from his mind.



The room beyond the carefully locked door was cold, dark, and a bit damp. The walls and floor were stone, softened by neither tapestries nor rugs. Ivan wasn’t surprised to see there were no windows.



Wouldn’t want your pet firebird to fly free would you, father? Ivan thought as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him, not surprised to hear the lock catch. He ignored the bed and eyed the fireplace. There was wood stacked inside but no way to actually start a fire. Raising his hand he concentrated on the flicker of magic the grey wolf had awoken within him and the Tsar of Dolmat had shaped.



The damp logs resisted the new flames for a few moments but finally gave in with a sputtered hiss and the fire caught, spreading warmth and light. Ivan leaned back, thoroughly satisfied with himself. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that the shadows fell oddly along the wall to his right and he turned to study it.



Go eye eyes stared up at him with a mixture of hatred and resignation. Ivan frowned and moved closer.



The boy hadn’t changed much in the last five years, though Ivan realized he could hardly call Trey a boy anymore.



“Do you know who I am?” He asked.



The man blinked and the hatred burned through the resignation. “Yes.”



Ivan glanced towards the closed door once before smiling and kneeling down to bring himself level with the chained man. “You think this is my fault, don’t you Trey?”



Trey snarled and Ivan was secretly glad that he was chained so well. Ivan knew how to defend himself but Trey had the physical power to crush him if he was moved to. From the way muscles flexed, unconsciously testing the bindings that held the other man down, Ivan knew Trey was currently inclined towards bringing some measure of violence against him.



Reaching up a hand he ran it along the scar that cut across the left side of the captive’s face. “Did you think I was dead?”



The younger man pulled away from his touch as though it burned, and Ivan’s hand disappeared in a spill of red curls. “I hoped you were.” Trey grated out.



Ivan laughed. “Well it is a lucky thing, then, that fate has chosen to protect you from yourself.” He stood and turned, glancing around the rest of the room.



At his feet the bound man stirred. “I hate you.”



Ivan shrugged, attracted to a large wood chest at the foot of the bed. “What do you hate most, Trey? The fact that we both know this is all your own fault or the fact that a man like you will have to submit to a man like me?”



He turned and purposely tilted a hip outwards, making himself look even more feminine then he already did. Trey didn’t give any sign that he noticed and Ivan frowned as he turned away. Trey seemed to be adept at ignoring Ivan’s obvious deficiencies and it irked him because it stole away some of his power. Deep inside he wanted someone who would care for him, for who he was, but that was only an illusion born of years of desperation. Besides there was the equally satisfying need much closer to the surface to take someone who would normally have scorned him and force them to acknowledge his control over them. Kneeling next to the chest Ivan fought the catch open and the smile retuned to his face.



Shifting so Trey could see what he was doing Ivan began removing and inspecting the tools his father had supplied. Smirking at a well-used whip, he held it up. “Nice to know my father’s tastes haven’t changed while I’ve been gone.”



Trey winced and looked away from him. Grinning Ivan returned to his inventory. “Not that it particularly matters but I’m going to give you some news I believe you will find favorable.”



Gold eyes glared at him. “Nothing in my life that has involved you has proven to be favorable to me.”



Ivan shrugged again as he puzzled over a particularly nasty looking object. “Since everything that has involved you has been favorable to me I am moved to return the goodwill.”



“Are you going to free me?”



The tall man stood and laughed as he tossed his heavy black hair over his shoulder and moved to inspect the bed. “Of course not! You sentenced yourself to this life the moment you snuck into my father’s orchard to steal his apples.”



“I would have been crippled without them after what you all did to me!” Trey insisted



Ivan fingered a steel ring set above the bed. “No matter. You ate the fruit and became a magical creature,” he tugged hard on the ring, testing it, “a man who steals from my father and takes magic into his being; you’re lucky he didn’t kill you and stuff you like he did with all those other magical creatures. He’s got a wonderful spot to display his “firebird” in the library.”



Trey sighed and went limp in the bonds. “I wish he had.”



Ivan stared sharply at the other man, frowning. “Giving up so easily? I’m disappointed. Didn’t I tell you that I’d have you again?”



When he received no answer Ivan moved to explore behind the curtained doorway. Impressed with the large bath he moved back to the main room, reaching out to chase away the chill creeping into him by the fire. “It took me five years to learn enough magic to pull this off, Trey. Five years of growing up in a dusty library learning from a windbag. Of course you remember the Tsar of Dolmat, don’t you? I remember him talking even while he was busy using you. I suppose that means he never does shut up for anything.”



Trey’s golden eyes seethed at him.



“I’m going to take what’s mine,” Ivan growled, “whoever brought you back was to have this kingdom and I was the one who went through all those trials. Me! Neither of my idiot brothers could even find you let alone get Dedumil to release you.”



“You fell for your brothers’ trap easy enough.” Trey sneered.



Ivan whirled, striking the man hard across the face. Trey grunted as his body was thrown sideways but jerked back into position by the steel rings. “I will have what’s mine.” Ivan stated, visibly forcing himself back under control. Reaching ou gen gently stroked Trey’s abused cheek. “Soon all of it will belong to me. But for now,” he reached down, rubbing between the trapped man’s legs, making him gasp, “I will reclaim you.”



Leaning in he licked along the scar, his father’s mark of ownership. The Tsar had been careful to trace the deep gash from the hairline, down Trey’s forehead to as close to the eye as he could without actually damaging the golden orb. The scar started again under it to curve sideways and under the ear. Under his hand he could feel the other man hardening and his breaths were beginning to hitch as he struggled.



“What’s wrong, love?” Ivan breathed, nipping at Trey’s ear, “Embarrassed to be taken by someone who looks like me? I may look like a girl,” Ivan tightened his hand making the man arch and gasp in pain, “but you’ll be the one fulfilling that role.”



Ivan pushed himself up, enjoying the look of panic on the other s fas face. He reached down to trace the broad shoulders and over the defined chest. “So strong,” he mused, “does it disgust you, love, to know that you’ll have to submit to someone as delicate as me? Does it make your stomach churn to know what I’ll do with you? To know that I intend to mar every inch of this flesh with my own brand of ownership?”



Trey was silent as his fingers roamed lower, mapping out the plains and valleys of his slave’s body. When even a strong stroke to the reddening shaft produced no corresponding sound Ivan stood up with a snort of disgust.



“What’s wrong, Trey? Why don’t you sing for me?”



The man chained to the wall shuddered. “I’ve forgotten how.”



Ivan stared at him in silence, a sudden thought weeding its way deep into his brain and making him see something he didn’t want to acknowledge. Perhaps five years had been five years too long.



**



-Trey



**



Ivan tapped his finger against the worn table top in frustration. At his feet knelt his slave but instead of providing him with the spark of pleasure he had been anticipating it only made him angrier. With a snarl he slapped his hand down flat upon the table, creating a sharp noise that would have startled anyone out of their wits but the man at his feet didn’t even flinch.



“Damnit will you do something already?” He snapped, glaring at the steady gold eyes that stared up at him.



“What would you have me do, master?” Came the measured tone.



Ivan felt like throttling something. “Three hours ago you were shouting at me that you hated me, trying to get away from my touch. Now you’re free and you aren’t doing anything!”



He saw a faint flicker of something in those eyes before it was smothered and that infuriating glassy look returned.



Tsking in disgust Ivan dropped a pointed chino hio his fist. “You really are taking all the fun out of this, you know. Where did all that fire go? That endearing curiosity?”



Trey’s hands trembled slightly but only for a moment. “What good is curiosity? All it did was get me into trouble and now,” he swallowed, “there is no need for it.”



“No need? How will you learn without curiosity?” Ivan pressed.



The man sneered. “I am slave. The only things I can learn here are lessons I do not care to learn.”



The black haired man smiled and tilted up a strong chin so he could press his lips against the kneeling man’s lips. “My father is an uncultured bore. There is no art in anything he does but do not fear, my little phoenix, I will teach you all you wish to know.”



Trey made a sound of disgust. “The only thing I wish to know is how to get my freedom back.”



Ivan smiled and sat back. “After all you’ve gone through I fail to ustanstand why you hate this so much. You no longer have to worry about where you will sleep or where your next meal comes from. You don’t have to worry about what lies just beyond the bend in the road or if the shadows hide something that wishes you harm. If you ask me, freedom is highly overrated.”
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As he had hoped he saw another flash of anger from the man. “At least out on the road I wasn’t made to do this,” he gestured to his own nakedness, “At leas the the road I knew that every man I met wasn’t going to beat to within an inch of my life without any regard for me! Just because I heal whatever wound I am given doesn’t mean I can’t feel the pain just as clearly!” Gold eyes watered slightly and the young man brushed them away with a strong hand.



Ivan reached out and gently fingered a red lock that shifted shaded with the light of the fire, hating the feelings that welled up within him at his slave’s words. “I will make you forget them,” he whispered, sliding his hand deep into the spill of red hair and pulling the man’s face to his, “When I am finished no one will have any claim on you but me.”



Trey’s pale body shuddered with his sob. “Let me go.” He whispered and, though it was a far cry from the lovely song of his begs from five years ago, it was a start.



Ivan smiled and rubbed his cheek against Trey’s tear stained cheek. “Never.”



“A bird must fly free to be happy.” Trey persisted.



The black haired man chuckled and pulled back so he could trace the pale lips with his thumb. “I looked into the tale of the Phoenix while I was studying you know,” he murmured, forcing a finger between Trey’s lips and gently sliding it in and out of the desirable mouth, “the tale says the phoenix lives in Paradise for five hundred years, hidden away from all the world and not seen by any living being during that time. Who’s to say, then, that it is not a captive there?”



Trey gasped against his finger, making Ivan smile darkly as he leaned in to spill the younger man back against the stone floor, warmed by the fire.



“Who is to say it doesn’t enjoy its captivity?” He whispered against lips trying to form words to deny the pleasure that was rising up from their joined flesh.



Ivan ground his slave into the floor, his small hands holding strong arms spread out like wings against a stone sky. His teeth marred the skin of the man’s neck, tongue lapping at scars never fully healed that bore testimony of their first coupling. Under him Trey whimpered but didn’t try to escape. He could have easily thrown off the slighter form but five years had stolen his strength and built a barrier in his mind. Ivan doubted the man could even formulate the require thought to defy his master, no matter how much he hated what was about to happen.



The black haired man needed more stimulation, more fight from his prey, so he pushed a leg up and over so he could settle himself against the bared flesh. Rising up on his arms he pushed himself down onto the yielding man, grinding him into the floor.



Trey tossed his head causing the red hair to splay across the floor as he fought the pleasure Ivan could see coursing through his body. Perfect lips teased a helpless nipple and the slave thrashed, crying out hoarsely. When he leaned up to taste the panting mouth again his black hair drifted forward to caress the bare body. Trey writhed deliciously against it and Ivan found himself fascinated with his slave’s reaction. Continuing his journey he nipped at the lips, licking the small wounds on them.



“Tell me what you want.” He whispered against them.



The red haired man sobbed. “To be free.”



Ivan rotated his hips, receiving another pleasure filled shudder from the man under him. “Perhaps. Now tell me what you really want at this moment.”



The man fought him but when Ivan lifted his hips and brought them back sharply against the slave’s heated lap he finally broke. “Do it.” Trey whispered.



Ivan humped lightly over his slave, taking a lock of his hair and brushing it over Trey’s swollen lips. “Do what?”



The tip of a red tongue traced the path his hair had followed and Ivan watched it in rapt fascination. “You know what.”



He chuckled and rolled off the man to curl along his side, left hand going out to tease to the dripping cocking that slapped against the strong stomach. “Yes I do, but I want to hear you say it.”



His thumb smeared pre-cum over the head, making it glisten in the red light. Trey turned his head away and Ivan dug his nails into the man’s side making his yelp in pain.



“I told you to always look at me, slave!” He snapped. When gold eyes stared at him in hurt and surprise he released his grip, soothing away the angry red marks. “I told you once that I wouldn’t cause pain for pain’s sake but I will hurt you if you insist that it’s the only way you’ll learn.”



Trey had lost some of his readiness and Ivan returned to the task of bringing it back. A few strong strokes had the man writhing again, though this time he remembered to his golden eyes locked on the dark haired man who was tormenting his body so. When Trey captured his bottom lip between his teeth to keep from making a sound Ivan frowned.



Leaning forward he licked at the lip until the teeth surrendered it to him. “Don’t do that,” he chided gently, kissing the redness away. “I want to hear you sing, lovely.”



A faint blush painted across the bridge of Trey’s nose, making the orange freckles stand out against his pale features. “I don’t understand you.” He whispered.



Green eyes blinked and Ivan slowed his stroking. “What do you mean?”



Trey swallowed, making the apple in his throat move enticingly. Ivan lunged for it, placing sucking kisses on top of it and thrilling at the groan he urged from the slave.



“Why . . . why do you want me to tell you? Why do you want to hear me? No one else wants me to do these things.”



Ivan licked along one of the whip marks that made a line from one strong shoulder to nearly Trey’s hip. “I like to hear the sounds you make. I want you to give into me.”



“Then take me and be done with it!” Trey shouted, his body bucking in frustration.



Ivan shoved him back down, glaring into aggravated gold eyes. “No!” He snapped.

“Then what do you want from me!” The man wailed, thrashing against floofloor to get away but making no move to shove off the smaller man who held him.



Ivan smiled as he lowered his mouth to the feast below him. “I want all of you Trey. Mind,” he kissed a temple ringed by red hair, “soul,” his tongue traced the skin where the beat of his slave’s heart was strongest, “and body.” He swallowed the quivering red shaft as the young man screamed at the sudden sensation.



Trey’s cock was thick and Ivan couldn’t take as much of it as he would have liked but he wrapped his hand around what he was forced to neglect and worked it with strong fingers. Smooth pliable skin coated flesh that was rigid and engorged with blood. Ivan abandoned himseo hio his desires as he teased the skin with his tongue, pulling up occasionally to coax salty liquid from the head. He was so intent on his treat he barely noticed that his slave was repeating something over again.



When Ivan finally made out the three words it made his blood run cold and hot at the same time.



“Take me, master.”



Three small words being chanted like a mantra and the weight of five years of dreams was enough to shatter Ivan’s hard won control. Lunging up onto his knees he tore at clothes that were suddenly too tight and too rough on his sensitized skin. Free of their embrace he lifted the narrow hips and placed himself where he could see every nuance of his slave’s face. When he pushed himself into the warm embrace he nearly screamed at the grip he found there.



“Gods Trey you’re tight as virgin! Shouldn’t you be looser than this by now?” He snarled between clenched teeth.



Trey winced and Ivan could see that he wanted dearly to look at anything but man man he had just called master but he resisted the urge and kept his golden gaze locked in the proper place. “I heal whatever is done to my body, including anything that should . . . loosen me permanently.” The pale nose flushed aga again, highlighting a splash of orange freckles, and Ivan had to laugh despite the sensations that were teasing his control as he worked his way deeper.

“A
“Always full of surprises aren’t you, love?” Ivan couldn’t help but taunt as he rocked very slightly.



Trey’s answer was an almost inaudible moan and Ivan felt the man’s body lessen its death grip on him. Pulling out Ivan shoved himself back into the larger body with a heave and the slave under him let out a startled cry. The black haired man chuckled. “Mmmm much better. I want to hear more, slave.”



Another shove sent the red haired man writhing and sputtering with abandoned. Ivan closed his eyes and let the primitive song of his phoenix’s cries dictate his rhythm and lead him to paradise.