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Chapter Text

Phainon’s heart raced, his hands gripping his sword so tightly it made them ache. He saw the Kremnoan army in the distance, stretching out across the grassy fields, an impossible enemy, yet an enemy he needed to fight nonetheless.

Behind him stood the army of Aedes Elysiae, small yet mighty. His sister, Cyrene, led the archers from the rear, just as he led the warriors from the front. He wished he could see her, so she could give him one of her warm, reassuring smiles. Maybe, just maybe, he could believe anything but Death awaited them all.

The Kremnoan army drew nearer and nearer, slow yet as inevitable as Thanatos themself. The cold air was still, not even a gust of wind, perhaps Aquila was watching. But no, in the grand scheme of things, none of this mattered. It was just another nation for the Kremnoans to conquer. That didn’t mean Phainon would let it go easily.

The army was here.

“Prince of Aedes Elysiae!” King Mydeimos’s voice was deep as thunder. He looked like a king, dressed in a set of armor with a red cape attached, the hints of gold glittering in the air, an intricate crown of red crystal sat on his head. The riches on his body were greater than anything Aedes Elysiae had. “Do you surrender?”

“Never,” Phainon pointed his sword at the king, “Aedes Elysiae will stand strong, even in the face of Strife!”

The king only laughed, “you speak with so much confidence, yet the only thing you will find is Death!” With a wave of his hand, the Kremnoan army descended upon Aedes Elysiae.

Phainon ran towards the king, his attention focused solely on him. The king smiled, raising his own blade. Soon enough, their blades met. The king was strong, meeting him with a force Phainon wasn’t used to. That didn’t mean Phainon couldn’t fight back. He was the best warrior in Aedes Elysiae, after all.

The battle raged around them, yet they never broke off from each other. It felt like a dance, the way they moved around each other, both trying to get dominance but neither of them succeeding. If Phainon could give the king credit for anything, he fought with honor.

Their dance continued. Phainon swung at Mydeimos, but the king blocked him, forcing Phainon to take a step back. If this wasn’t a battle, Phainon would’ve called it fun.

Something shifted in the king’s eyes, as if he noticed something Phainon didn’t. And then Phainon realized it too. Aedes Elysiae was failing, its army being drawn back, faltering. Death lingered in the air, the death of his people.

Phainon swung harder, faster, desperately trying to kill the king. He was caught off guard for a moment, stepping back, and Phainon used that to his advantage, making strike after strike to try and take the man’s head off.

It almost worked. If Mydeimos hadn’t kicked his foot at the exact right moment, he would have killed him. Instead, he fell, the wind rushing from his lungs as he hit the grassy floor. His sword fell to the ground, then was pushed away by the king.

Phainon tried to get up, but Mydeimos’s foot pinned him down, then kicked him onto his back. The king knelt over him with a satisfied smile, raising his sword to his neck. Phainon struggled to breath with his knee on his chest.

A drop of red blood leaked from his neck, but Phainon didn’t take his eyes away from Mydeimos’s. He wouldn’t beg, he wouldn’t squirm, he would take his Death with dignity as a crown prince and a warrior should.

“Do you see your fallen nation, prince?” Mydeimos asked, “this is what happens when you fight Strife.” Phainon glared at him. What point was the king trying to make, dragging this out?

“So many have tried to fight us, yet so many have failed. Hmm, maybe they need an example,” Phainon tensed. A public execution then, something painful and slow enough to make others afraid of meeting the same fate as him. He heard tales of the old Kremnoan king locking his enemies inside a bronze bull, lighting the bottom on fire and watching as they slowly burned to death.

Phainon had been willing to take his death with honor, but he could not accept torture. His struggle began anew, desperately trying to get out of Mydeimos’s grasp. One of his hands pushed against the king’s chest, while the other tried to grab onto his blade.

“Shh, don’t worry, I’m not going to kill you,” Phainon’s stomach dropped. If that was true, he did not want to see what else was in store for him. Mydeimos’s free hand gripped onto his armor, pulling off pieces and tossing them aside. It was far easier to take a prisoner without armor on.

“Hey, you,” Mydeimos said to one of the soldiers. To Phainon’s dismay, they were all standing around them. The army of Aedes Elysiae was destroyed, their corpses lying on the ground like discarded toys. “Take my blade away and place it with my other gear.”

With his sword gone, Mydeimos focused on taking off all of Phainon’s armor. Phainon struggled as much as he could, he would not let himself be taken prisoner easily, would not let himself be subjected to Kremnoan torture.

Phainon felt like he was being skinned alive, each piece of armor stolen adding to his own vulnerability. A man without armor could not possibly hope to fight a man with armor, especially when that man was King Mydeimos, known throughout Amphoreus as the greatest warrior alive.

The king stripped Phainon of his undergarments, leaving him bare for the eyes of all those around him. His cheeks burned in humiliation. A prince, naked for the eyes of soldiers.

“You’re beautiful, Phainon,” he shivered at the sound of his name coming from Mydeimos’s mouth. It sounded so… wrong, coming from him. “I think I’ll keep you to myself.” Whispers grew among the Kremnoan soldiers. Was that supposed to mean something?

“You look so confused,” Mydeimos seemed amused, “did the royal family of Aedes Elysiae not have slaves?”

Slaves? Slaves?! Phainon growled at him, trying his hardest to kick him off, “bastard! I will never obey you, cruel king.” Slavery was illegal in Aedes Elysiae, being seen as one of the gravest crimes a human could commit. And now Mydeimos-

“Oh, but you will have no choice,” Mydeimos started taking off his own armor. Phainon didn’t bother to think why, using the opportunity to strike at Mydeimos’s head with his fist, it felt so satisfying to see the king surprised.

The king staggered. Phainon struggled to get out from beneath him. Once he had his freedom, he ran with everything he had. But Mydeimos recovered quickly, knocking Phainon onto his stomach. Phainon gasped from the force of it.

“Feisty!” Mydeimos laughed, “breaking you is going to be fun.”

Mydeimos continued undoing his armor. From his stomach, Phainon couldn’t hope to get away from him. Phainon forced his body to relax. Maybe, if Mydeimos thought he gave in, Phainon could find another opportunity to catch him off guard.

All of that was broken when he felt Mydeimos’s cock start to touch him. Phainon cried out. What the hell?! This wasn’t- none of this was honorable. None of this is how a king is supposed to treat a fallen foe!

“Get off of me!” Phainon shouted, feeling Mydeimos’s cock right on his hole, about to tear him apart. “You rat, get off!”

“I don’t think I will,” Mydeimos thrust inside of him, making Phainon scream louder than he ever had before. It was so painful, as if his body was being ripped in half. How could this be happening to him? He was the best fighter in Aedes Elysiae, its crown prince? Now, he was being fucked on the ground for all eyes to see. He felt those eyes burning into him.

Mydeimos gripped his hair, forcing his head to the side so Phainon had no choice but to look. Some of the Kremnoans were watching with interest, others had already began packing their things. The bodies of Aedes Elysiae soldiers were everywhere. He knew all of them.

“I hate you!” Phainon thrashed on the ground, not caring about the dirt covering his body, the grass making his skin itch “you pathetic excuse for a king!”

“Says the man who has nothing but dead soldiers,” Mydeimos’s thrusts were intense, shaking Phainon’s entire body, “every single man and women inside those walls will be taken as slaves, and the children will be raised by Kremnoan families to learn the right way of life.”

Tears ran down Phainon’s face, shame flooding through him. Rumors said Mydeimos was an honorable man, but this wasn’t honor. This was pure, unadulterated cruelty. How did the Kremnoans hold him in such high honor?

Phainon started silently praying. First to Phagousa, to send floods to Kremnoan territories. Then to Georius, to send earthquakes. Then to Zagreus, to send chaos and thievery. Then to Talanton, so that Mydeimos could face judgement. Then to Thanatos, so Mydeimos’s afterlife could find no peace. And finally, to Kephale, to protect those who faced the cruelty of the Mydeimos, both those conquered by Kremnos and the Kremnoans themselves.

His prayers to Janus and Cerces were selfish. He prayed for a passage of escape, and for Cerces to help him keep his mind. Mydeimos was saying something again, but Phainon couldn’t be bothered to listen. He could only hope that the gods chose to listen to him.

He sent no prayers to Nikador, for he knew better to pray to a god for the demise of their own people. Nor to Mnestia, for praying to them during a mockery of Romance felt far too cruel.

Phainon felt Mydeimos come inside him, the feeling strange and unfamiliar. He wondered if Mydeimos knew that he had taken Phainon’s virginity or not. Phainon felt a pang at that. He wanted his first time to be with someone he loved, not this.

Mydeimos pulled out, a mix of blood and cum pouring out of Phainon. He tried to push himself off the ground, but a surge of pain flowed through him. He fell back to the ground, wanting to scream at his uselessness.

“Tie him up, make sure he can’t escape, then we’ll go back to Kremnos,” Mydeimos looked down at Phainon, his eyes filled with a look of arrogance. Phainon spat at him. “Gag him as well.”

Phainon was too weak to get away from the soldiers when they obeyed Mydeimos, no matter how hard he tried to struggle. First his wrists were tied together, then his legs, then they were attached to each other so his body was forced to arch. It was so uncomfortable, making Phainon’s muscles burn. Just like Mydeimos ordered, he was gagged, but a blindfold was added as well. He hated that the most, he was trapped within his own body.

Mydeimos picked him up. He didn’t know how he could tell that it was Mydeimos, but he could. His body tensed so hard he felt like a statue. “I’ll be heading back to Kremnos with this one. Tell Krateros to take care of the cleanup here.”

Phainon hated how helpless he felt. Mydeimos was able to carry him around like he was nothing but a doll and there was nothing he could do about it. Just hours earlier, Phainon was commanding an army. What would they think now, if they could see Phainon like this? Would they pity him? Would they hate him for failing them?

The scent of Death lingered in the air like a disease. Aedes Elysiae was gone. Everything Phainon knew, everyone Phainon cared for was dead. Cyrene would’ve been killed, and his parents… his father was near death, he wouldn’t be able to fight the Kremnoan soldiers, and his mother would never leave his side.

Mydeimos carried him into what Phainon assumed was his carriage, sitting down and resting Phainon’s head in his lap. Phainon sobbed when it started to move, leaving his homeland behind to be ravaged by the Kremnoans. Oh how he would miss the fields of wheat, watching the children play in the streets, their parents having no fear for they knew nothing bad happened in Aedes Elysiae.

The king let out a satisfied sigh, his hand petting Phainon’s hair, making him feel like a dog. “I told them to gag you, but I think we should celebrate this victory together. Try to bite me and I will order a batch of your people killed.”

Mydeimos shuffled around a little bit before taking Phainon’s gag off. Phainon cursed at him, throwing insults like they would do anything. Mydeimos used the opportunity to force his cock down Phainon’s throat.

Phainon gagged, his mouth suddenly feeling so full. He instinctively wanted to bite down, but Mydeimos’s words stopped him. None of his people could die because of his own selfishness. He would take all the torture Mydeimos would give him if it meant protecting them.

Mydeimos continued to fuck his throat, not caring that Phainon could barely breath, and oh how his lungs burnt. He was forced to take all of him, and Mydeimos was big. Mydeimos’s hand rested on the back of his head, keeping him still.

The king sped up, starting to moan quietly. Phainon squeezed his eyes shut behind the blindfold, wanting so badly to get away from this. He imagined himself back at home, reading with Cyrene. She always made fun of him for how bad he was with history, but it was always light hearted.

“Swallow.” Mydeimos said as he came. Phainon had no choice but to obey, coughing as he swallowed. The taste made him want to throw up, yet he was unable to move as Mydeimos continued to hold his head against his cock, warming it with his mouth.

Mydeimos eventually let him get off. Phainon panted, trying to get his head as far away from the king as possible. “Rest,” Mydeimos commanded, “things will only get harder for you once we arrive in Kremnos.”

Chapter Text

Phainon’s body wanted nothing but to sleep, to finally end this horrid day, but Mydeimos wouldn’t stop touching him despite the command to rest. His hands explored every inch of his body.

He had started with his face, putting the gag back on before running his fingers across Phainon’s jaw. Then down his neck, which made his breathing quicken. No part of his body was spared from Mydeimos’s touch. It felt almost absent minded, like the king was using him as nothing but a thing to stop his hands from getting bored, like how one might drum their fingers against a desk.

It went on for what had to be hours. His fingers running down his abs, his legs, nearing his cock but never touching in a way that drove him absolutely insane. He did not want Mydeimos to touch him there, yet his cock grew hard and needy.

“Still so tense,” the king said, seemingly amused, “you will have to get used to my touch eventually, my slave.”

Phainon shook his head. He would never, ever accept that Mydeimos wanted him to be… he would kill himself before he was turned into a slave for Mydeimos’s will.

The king pinched his nipple in response, making Phainon gasp, “once we get to Kremnos, I’ll teach you some obedience.”

***

Phainon, eventually, fell into a state akin to sleep. It wasn’t true sleep. True sleep was peaceful, filled with dreams. This sleep was more a temporary shut-off of his mind that ended with every justle of the carriage or every time Mydeimos moved.

Inevitably, the carriage slowed, then came to a stop. A small part of Phainon hoped that it was just a stop on the road, that the journey would last longer so Mydeimos would have to wait.

“We’re home,” Mydeimos said, picking him up and shattering his fragile delusion. Phainon squirmed, trying to get out of the king’s hold. Useless, but he couldn’t just let himself be carried.

Phainon felt a gust of wind hit his naked body, and wondered if Mydeimos was carrying him in public. Despite having been taken in front of all the soldiers, the idea of more people seeing him like this made him want to curl in on himself.

“Mydei!” A masculine voice said, “you’re back early. And with,” he coughed, “a new toy.”

If Phainon wasn’t so offended by being called a toy, he would find the nickname ‘Mydei’ amusing. The cruel king of a conquering nation, being called a cute nickname.

“Hephaestion,” the king, who Phainon decided he would refer to as Mydei in his head, if only to make him slightly less frightening. “Are you alright? Don’t overexert yourself.”

“I’m fine,” Hephaestion replied, his hoarse voice going against his words, “you should let me borrow your toy sometime.”

Phainon felt panic burn down his spine, beginning to shout through the gag, struggling through the bindings. “Perhaps I will,” Mydei said, “but first, I have to get him situated, I’ll come talk to you later.”

Mydei started walking again, gripping Phainon tighter. Phainon’s mind was still reeling at the idea of being borrowed. Mydei had already raped him twice, did he need to worry about more people using him? No, no he wouldn’t accept that. He needed to find a blade somewhere to pierce his own throat.

The king continued to carry him until laying him down on something soft. A bed. He screamed through the gag, thrashing and trying to escape, to get away because he knew what beds meant.

“Relax,” Mydei chuckled, taking the blindfold off him. Phainon blinked, his eyes adjusting to the light. The room was large and ostentatious, decorated with gold and red. Phainon found it disgusting. Royalty was supposed to be humble, to understand their people.

Phainon’s eyes didn’t leave Mydei’s body. His chest was only half covered, and he wasn’t in his full suit of armor. Red tattoos lined his body like scars, the same shade of red as everything else here.

Mydei moved out of eyesight, and Phainon could only shift so far in his bindings. He knew whatever Mydei was doing, Phainon wouldn’t like it.

When he saw Mydei again, he held a dagger in his hand. His face had a smug smile that Phainon wished he could punch off, but at the same time, it only added to his panic.

Mydei grabbed his leg, his grip so tight it would probably bruise him. He held the tip of the dagger to Phainon’s an. Phainon’s eyes widened, was he going to-

The dagger pierced him, making him scream through the gag. Mydei quickly moved onto the other foot, piercing it with frightening efficiency. Tears fell from Phainon’s eyes, both from the pain and what he knew Mydei was doing.

He would never walk again.

“There you go,” Mydei said, rubbing his calf in an almost gentle way, “anywhere you need to go, I can carry you or you can crawl.”

Phainon glared at him. He was not going to crawl like a Kephale-damn toddler. He really, really needed to find a way to kill himself soon. Without walking, it would be difficult, but not impossible.

Mydei still had that awful smile on his face when he took the gag off. Phainon immediately spat at him, “get off of me, tyrant bastard!”

The king’s laugh seemed to shake the room itself, “still as feisty as before, even as helpless as you are.” Mydei looked down at him with mad eyes.

Mydei started undoing his bindings, which would have made Phainon relieved if he didn’t know what was coming. The blood from his feet pooled onto the bed, staining it an even deeper shade of red.

Phainon was left with only his wrists tied together, squished between his back and the bed. The pri- the man pushed himself off the bed, logic giving way to panic.

As to be expected, the second his feet hit the ground, he collapsed. Mydei laughed again, his struggling only making him more excited. “Did you really think you could get away?”

Phainon squirmed when Mydei picked him up and dropped him back onto the bed, his heart dropping when Mydei got on top of him. Again. “No,” he whimpered, “please no.”

Mydei just grinned, kneeling between Phainon’s legs. He grabbed one of them, putting it on his shoulder while Phainon tried and failed to kick him away. Blood dripped from his ankle, but Mydei didn’t care.

“Please, Mydeim-“ Mydei covered Phainon’s mouth with his hand.

“You don’t have the right to use my name,” Mydei said, his voice low, “call me master, or stay quiet.”

With that, Mydei raised his hand off his mouth. Phainon chose the second option, he wouldn’t be calling Mydei “master” no matter what he tried to do. To do that would be to agree he was Mydei’s slave, and he never would.

The king didn’t seem to mind his silence, nor his death glare. Phainon watched him free his cock, his stomach somehow sinking further down. “Don’t do this, please don’t-“

Phainon’s cheek erupted in pain, a loud *smack* sound filling the room. “Don’t expect me to listen when you won’t even say my proper title, slave.”

He opened his mouth to say something, to argue against Mydei, but was cut off by his own scream as Mydei pierced him with his cock. It felt so wrong to be taken this way, a way meant to be intimate used to cause pain. If only his hands were free, he would rip Mydei’s eyes out, then punch his throat, then take his dagger, kill him then kill himself.

But, ultimately, his hands weren’t free, and Mydei was painfully thrusting inside him, each movement pushing Phainon’s body as it willed. Phainon sobbed, still not understanding how this could happen. How a supposedly honorable man could do this, how he failed to defend himself to the point of extreme helplessness.

He would never be able to walk again.

“Wha-“ Phainon whimpered and squirmed when he felt Mydei’s hand wrap around his cock. It felt good, despite the fact that Phainon didn’t want to feel good.

“You’re hard,” Mydei purred, “feels good, doesn’t it?”

Phainon shook his head, unwilling to speak when it could come out as a moan. It shouldn’t feel good, it hurt. But with Mydei’s hand around his cock and the king deep inside of him, pleasure was building up in his body.

Mydei leaned down so his face was right next to Phainon, his lips nearly touching his ear. “Don’t deny it, slave. It’s only natural for you to enjoy your master’s touch.”

“No-“ Phainon whispered, feeling Mydei start to kiss his neck. The king started soft, but of course he didn’t stay that way, it wasn’t in his blood to be soft. He bit down, hard, causing Phainon to yelp.

Mydei clinged to his neck, sucking on his neck like a vampire. It seemed to excite him, if his quickening thrusts were anything to go by. Phainon wondered if the blood loss was going to kill him, he hoped he wouldn’t die on Mydei’s cock.

The king moved to another spot on Phainon’s neck, biting down just as roughly. His hand played with Phainon’s cock, giving him more of that sickly sweet pleasure that we wished would just go away.

That pleasure was becoming too much to bear, Phainon screamed as his orgasm hit, warm cum coating his stomach. Mydei chuckled around his neck, continuing at a pace that made Phainon squirm in overstimulation.

It was too much, Phainon wanted Mydei off of him, as far away from him as possible. His senses were in fire, screaming at him to get away but he couldn’t, Mydei continued his pace, getting faster and faster and-

Phainon felt himself be filled with cum for a second time. It wasn’t any less strange, alien, wrong. Mydei let go of his neck, panting against him for a few moments. “That was good,” Mydei sat up, his cock slowly leaving Phainon’s body.

All Phainon could do was stare at the ceiling, imagining he was anywhere but with Mydei. “You look good like this, covered in blood, dirt, and cum.” Mydei did not make himself easy to ignore.

“Hmm,” Mydei placed two fingers on Phainon’s neck, “perhaps too much blood. I’ll send someone to take care of that.”

The king stood, but Phainon didn’t pay attention to him. He felt like he was watching his body from the ceiling, not from within it. Like everything was far, far away. He only came back into his body when he heard the door close shut.

Phainon was in too much pain to try anything. His hands tied behind his back, his ankles unusable, his ass… later, he would plan something later. Cold air hit his naked body, and he felt so exposed.

But maybe he could cover himself, if only a little bit. It was difficult with his hands behind his back, but he could use his body to cover himself with the blanket. It was a struggle, but it worked, and Phainon felt a tiny bit more secure. At least until someone opened the door.

Phainon’s heart raced, expecting to see Mydei in the doorway. Instead, he saw a dark haired, skinny man. Still, Phainon tried to get as far away from him as possible without falling off the bed.

The man at least had the decency to look disturbed when his eyes set on Phainon. Not that it made him trust him any more. This was still someone Mydei sent.

“My name is Perdikkas, I’m a healer,” the man, Perdikkas, walked closer to him, making Phainon flinch away. “I won’t hurt you, my only intent is to heal.”

“I don’t believe you,” Phainon said, his voice weaker than he meant it to be. He just wanted to be left alone.

Perdikkas’s eyebrows furrowed for a second before, “I swear on Nikador’s name, I will never touch you without intent to heal.”

And that… that was something. If there was one thing Phainon knew about Kremnoans, other than their bloodlust and cruelty, it was their reverence. Kremnoans never dared invoke Nikador’s name in vain, lest they experience Strife’s wrath.

Perhaps not everyone in here was out to harm him.