The Consort: Hummingbird Circus

Draco beckoned for another cup of wine and returned his gaze to the shoreline passing slowly by. He wasn't quite certain about his feelings towards the trip. He had been aware of the rebellion in the eastern portion of the empire, of course, but he had not been particularly interested by it. It was all well and good that the rebellion had been crushed, but it wasn't as if they really stood much of a chance: one country town rising up against his father, and thus, the entire Edorean Empire. The only real shock was that the uprising had lasted as long as it had.

Now, as High Prince and heir to the throne, Draco was on his way to the town of Brucandis in order to oversee the generals and make certain that the rebellion truly was quashed; thus ruining a perfectly good weekend and, including traveling time, a perfectly good few weeks.

On the other hand it removed Draco not only from the palace, but also from Agathe, the capital city; which meant that he had escaped the rather tedious spectacle of Tribute, where all the leaders from the cities under his father's control, as well as allied cities, came and presented gifts and paid their respect to the empire. This was usually made even more painful by the fact that so often the gifts sent were women to stock the royal harem, which would have been fine except that his father and mother had become quite keen on his choosing a prospective consort. A foreign bride made an awfully strong ally of a country.

Draco had made it quite clear that he wished nothing to do with the women in the harem. True, he did sample them and there were some quite delectable specimens of the female condition, but Draco could never imagine himself wed to any woman. They were notoriously greedy and petty and spent more time plotting against each other than they did plotting against the world. Too easily distracted, in Draco's opinion, to be pleasant wives let alone a worthy consort.

He did have a fine collection of boys but found that he grew tired of them far more quickly. The pretty ones were usually either incredibly vain or incredibly meek and weak-willed. The ones with spirit were not as attractive and in the end, the whole lot was exceptionally boring because, much to Draco's dismay, he found that they quickly succumbed to petty plots within the harem. Everyone inevitably began scheming to achieve the coveted position of Consort and Draco wasn't even nineteen, his father wasn't even dead.

Taking a deep breath of the clear air, Draco let his eyes fall closed. "Your majesty?" Eve had been his servant for some time and he favored her for her beauty and manner, and also for her discretion. She stood by his chair, her head bowed slightly but otherwise without sign of submission. "Your majesty, I have been told by the captain that we have arrived in Brucandis. He asks if this is an acceptable place to weigh anchor, he is reluctant to sail past the city as we cannot be certain of how secure it is. He also wished me to say that it is not recommended that you set foot ashore as it is too dark."

Draco waved a hand. "I trust the captain's judgments. Tell him I wish to go ashore first thing in the morning. Is my room prepared?"

"It is, my lord."

"Good. I'll retire." He stood and ducked out from beneath the silk linens that had been hung to create a place of shadow as he lounged. The days were quite hot in summer and though Draco loved the sun sitting in a boat meant overexposure and Draco hated to burn.

"Yes, my lord." Eve bowed and led him to his rooms and then, after turning down the bed and being dismissed for the night, she hurried out to relay his message to the Captain.

Once the door had closed Draco went to his trunk and withdrew a set of dark robes with a hood and quickly changed. Removing a set of blades from a green velvet case, he placed one in each holster on his belt, draping his cloak to mask their presence, and then moved to the window, which he opened quickly.

Brucandis was located in the most eastern part of the empire, and it was noted for its beauty. The city was lush and green, and even from his position on the boat Draco could catch the smell of jasmine and exotic flowers as the wind carried their scent. From what he could see, they had moored on the outskirts of the city. It would be a bit of a walk, but at least they were not near the army.

Draco stepped back from the window and quickly pulled his hood up. It was always recommended that he stay, safe and secure on the boat until daylight when his retinue would be prepared to walk with him and protect him. Draco found however, that there was an advantage in knowing the lay of the land. He always had his servants collecting information about wherever he was traveling so that he did not run the risk of being embarrassed by lack of knowledge. He studied maps as he traveled so that he was not completely dependent on guides. And, when they did arrive in the evenings, he always slipped ashore so that he could get a feel for the place. All of these things gave him an advantage.

Stealthily, he slipped past the busy crewmembers fussing about the boat and sought his close friend, Blaise Zabini. This was tradition and the taller boy didn't even bat an eyelash, as suddenly it seemed the shadows reached out and tapped him on the arm. Instead, Blaise busied himself with convincing one of the crewmembers to let him journey ashore and thus to lend him one of the skiffs.

When Draco was in the boat and the boat was in the water, Blaise rowed them to shore without comment and it wasn't until they had finally stepped out and pulled the boat up the small sand beach that Blaise grinned. "Incognito today, my lord?" he asked and Draco smacked him lightly upside the head.

"None of that now. There's a reason for this, you fool. I can't draw attention. This is enemy territory."

Blaise made a show of rubbing at the back of his head as they set off down the street into the city. "The army has stationed itself at the most eastern part of the town. Apparently that was where most of the fighting took place."

"Most of the fighting was in the east? But there's nothing there but farmland," Draco said.

"I think that was the point. Fewer civilian casualties and less damage to the city; this way the fight remained between those who sought it."

Draco thought about this for a momenet. "Still, it was a bloody waste. Completely hopeless from the start."

"They very nearly were successful. Your father lost a good number of men. They may be peasants and farmers out here but they were all apparently quite well acquainted with swordsmanship and strategy."

"It was just the brute strength," Draco murmured dismissively.

"And your army, where each man devotes his life to training and weaponry cannot boast brute strength?"

Draco shook his head. It was something to ponder: a bunch of commoners taking on soldiers of the imperial army and nearly winning. No wonder his father had been so volatile of late. "What has been done?"

Blaise watched as a mother rushed by, herding seven children all of whom were screaming and cheering and yelling. "As far as I have heard, the army resorted to the old siege technique. That was what the biggest battle of this whole thing took place over. General Goyle ordered the water and food supply to the city to be cut off. Apparently, this maneuver had been anticipated by the rebellion. Nonetheless, the stores they had saved up were depleted."

"How? If they had planned for that tactic how was it effective?"

"Apparently General Goyle turned one of the townsfolk against the rebellion. The man willingly destroyed all of the supplies that had been saved. Only, he didn't know about all of the holdings where the food was kept. Still, he destroyed enough of it. There was a battle as the rebellion moved to reopen the water and food lines: a battle that the rebellion won. If it were not for the reinforcements you wouldn't have had to make this trip."

Draco was fascinated. His father's generals were very skilled and talented schemers and yet, somehow, the leader of the rebellion had plotted just as skillfully, and just as successfully. "Do we have him?"

"Have who?" They had reached the center of the city and Draco was struck at once by both the simplicity and the beauty, large enclosed gardens with hanging plants overhead, and though the buildings were small, they were painted white and looked bright contrasting with the darkness of the vegetation. It was a cozy place despite the fact that it was one of the poorer cities.

"Have whoever led them," Draco clarified. They stopped and watched as a few soldiers trekked along the path. When they had passed, Blaise nodded.

"Everyone who participated in the rebellion is either dead or captured. We have him."

"I want to meet him tomorrow."

"I imagine you'll be meeting a number of people tomorrow. It falls to you to establish what should be done with the captives."

Draco rolled his eyes. It was a nauseating part of his duties. Most of the time in local rebellions like this one, there was a lot of blubbering and pleading and Draco really grew tired of it. He often made a point of being less lenient with those who begged, it really was unbecoming. If you were going to rebel and lose then you really ought to accept the punishment, was his way of looking at it.

"I can't wait," he mumbled sarcastically. "Lets find a tavern and get drunk," he added, and Blaise followed him in his search.

……………………………………………

Draco awoke with a hiss as the sunlight spilled merrily into his room. "Eve, shut the bloody curtains," he ordered, but Eve only laughed and handed him a glass of water and a small purple remedy that he was completely familiar with.

"It's a beautiful day and you did say that you had every intention of going into the city as early as possible. The generals are expecting you. Drink the water it will settle you. Then drink the remedy, it's for your hangover." She turned away as he obeyed her command and opened his trunk, setting out a fresh pair of summer weight green robes knowing full well that he liked to look slightly daunting on these sorts of expeditions. "As soon as you've dressed and had some breakfast, the men are waiting up top to take you to shore."

"Have Blaise be dressed and ready and make sure he's had at least fifteen minutes to talk to those hair brained crew members who are under the mistaken impression that they will serve as good bodyguards for me. I hate walking about like a feeble woman."

"Feeble?" Eve asked, and Draco rolled his eyes.

"I will not walk about in front of people who already have little to no faith in the empire, tripping on overzealous boatmen." There was a quirk on her lips as she finished setting-out his tray, but she nodded dutifully at his request.

"Would you like me to stay?"

"No, go and tell Blaise. I'll be out shortly."

It was a bright day, but not overly hot. There was a pleasant breeze and Draco reveled in the weather as he walked through the army's encampment. The two generals, Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe were the elder sons of two of his father's most prominent military generals who had been promoted to the position of military advisers. Draco had dismissed the crewmen who had accompanied him and now walked beside Blaise, only half-listening to the prattle about tactics and the behavior of the prisoners.

"Where are the prisoners?" Draco asked when it became clear he was getting a tour rather then being taken directly to them.

"They're just over this way, my lord," Goyle motioned to a spot at the center of the encampment where they were heading. "We keep them there so that, if there is an attempt at escape the buggers will have to run past tent after tent of trained soldiers."

Draco nodded vaguely. "Have you identified the leader of the rebellion? And those who were in command?" There was a hesitant glance between both generals and as they stumbled over their words, Draco sighed. "No, it would appear you have not."

"That's not exactly true, my lord. We do know those who played significant roles, we just..."

"Can't figure out what those rolls were?" Blaise offered and the men had the good grace to appear abashed.

"Take me to them now. I haven't the patience for any more of this," Draco commanded, and the two generals hurriedly obeyed.

At the very heart of the army's encampment Draco found himself looking at a sorry lot of people, men and women alike, chained in various ways, to various things. There were some who were chained to a low fence that had been created to circle around the area, and at the very center of everything, there was a tall pole where three people were chained, two young men and one girl. They looked to be about Draco's own age.

With a frown affixed to his face Draco turned to Goyle, who seemed to be the quicker of the two, and said simply, "Tell me."

"They're just the local folk," Goyle began as they walked past the people who were tethered to the low fences. "They fought with knives and the like." At Draco's glare Goyle nodded at the three at the center. "Those are who we figure played larger rolls. None of them are talking." Draco glanced at Blaise and with a nod the other stepped forward.

With a quiet grace, Blaise circled the poll and looked closely at each of the three. Their faces were pale and drawn and every inch of them screamed of exhaustion, but there was a glint in each of their eyes that said quite clearly that they were angry and they had not yet been broken. Blaise settled on the girl and stepped forward.

Her hair was matted and she was covered in dirt. He smiled at her kindly and leaned in close. "Would you like some water?" he asked and she pressed closer to the poll in an attempt to shift away from him.

"Crabbe, get some water, bring it here," Blaise ordered. When Crabbe had complied, Blaise offered her the bowl but she turned her head away and so he made a point of sipping it in front of her. He noticed the way she eyed him and inwardly grinned. The army appeared to be starving their charges and dehydration was setting in.

He sat back and sipped casually at the water, confident in her full attention, and that of the redheaded boy beside her. "If you talk to us we can get a better understanding of what happened. Perhaps allowances can be made. The emperor is forgiving -- if you talk to us.

"I bet you would love a shower. Nice and cool. Some soap, clean clothes. A soft bed to sleep in." Blaise grinned but she glared back at him. "Would you like something to eat? I imagine you're quite hungry. How long have you been sitting here? Two days, it would be?"

"Two days," Goyle affirmed, watching the proceedings and looking proud that he had thought of denying his captives such necessities.

"Two days," Blaise purred, looking compassionately at the girl. "That's quite a lot to go without food and water. Water especially. After three days that's when you could die, you know. Three days without water and the body really starts to deteriorate."

"Leave her alone! You scum!" It was the redhead, and immediately triumph lit Blaise' eyes. You could always count on a protective male.

Quickly, he stepped around and faced the redhead. "Is she your girlfriend?" he asked flippantly, but the redhead seethed.

"Leave her alone."

"How about you? Fancy some water?" he took a long sip and the boy leaned forward unconsciously. "Tell me your name and I'll give you some."

"You bastard."

"It's not such an important thing, is it? It's just your name. I'm not asking you really anything important, am I? You're not betraying anyone by telling me your name." There was a flicker of doubt in the brown eyes and Blaise played his trump card. "I'll give her some water, if you'd like."

"Ron. Ron Weasley."

"There, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Blaise once again offered the girl the bowl of water. She looked torn between ignoring it and accepting it; in the end she drank greedily. Blaise came back around to Ron and held out the bowl, watching keenly as Ron drank and then nodded over to the other boy who was chained to the pole.

"Give him some, too," he ordered, and Blaise shrugged. He stood and walked over to the dark-haired boy who watched him with disinterest. Carefully, he offered the bowl but in return he received only a stare, the look never changing.

"Your friend doesn't seem to want any," Blaise said after he and the prisoner had stared each other down for a moment. The redhead, Weasley, looked at the dark-haired boy in confusion but quickly turned back around when the other refused to move.

Blaise found himself admiring the dark-haired youth. He was stoic and stubborn and it didn't look as if he were going to give in any time soon. Blaise hoped that he would be something like that under similar conditions.

He walked back over to Ron Weasley and crouched down, looking conciliatory. "See that man over there?" He pointed to Draco who quirked an eyebrow in obvious amusement at the proceedings. "That's the prince. He wants to know who your leader was. Now, General Crabbe says it was you, but you know what I think?" Blaise asked, turning suddenly dangerous. He could see from the look in Ron Weasley's brown eyes that the boy was only just realizing he had revealed too much. "I think it was all that pretty little girl's idea."

It may have been a high card to play so soon and in truth, Blaise was used to wheedling information out of people slowly just by talking to them. But the sun was strong and there were no trees shading them, he was tired and Draco always did hate this part of the proceedings. His patience was thin, so he took the offer the redhead had unwittingly given him and went right for the jugular. "Crabbe, unlock her." Crabbe, looking extremely confused stepped forward. All he had to do was pull out the keys before Ron Weasley, visibly panicking, started shouting.

"No! No! Stop! You fucking wankers! It wasn't her! It wasn't Hermione! Leave her alone!" He started thrashing and kicking as best as he could. Crabbe stepped over to the girl who remained just as calm as she had been previously. The admiration Blaise had been feeling towards the rebels returned. She should know the things they could do to her, yet she remained unfazed.

"I think you will find that is unnecessary." It was a calm voice that split through Ron's shouts and stilled everyone. Blaise and Crabbe turned towards the fence where an old man with white hair and an impressive beard looked at them, as calm as his tone had implied. "She had but a small role to play. I am the leader of the rebellion."

There was an audible shifting sound and Blaise turned back to see that the dark-haired boy was leaning forward slightly, eyes on the old man. Their gaze locked only fleetingly but it was clear a message had passed between them because suddenly the boy leaned back, calm once more.

"Are you willing to talk?" Now it was Draco who stepped forward.

"Quite willing," the man said in a surprisingly cheerful tone. "What would you like to discuss? It is fine weather, is it not?" Blaise was about to laugh and he noticed that Draco was, as well, when Goyle lunged forward and smacked the man hard across the face.

"You will not mock the prince!" he cried, and again Blaise noticed that the man with the white hair seemed unfazed.

"Forgive me, I'm quite old. I am liable to misunderstand things. I was asked if I wanted to talk. I simply demonstrated my openness."

Draco did laugh now and shook his head. "I've heard enough. Take him and those three," he pointed to the vertical pole where Ron and the other two were sitting, "and secure them. Keep them separate. They'll go directly to my father. The others are to be slaves. Offer them to the men, first. If none are interested, you know where to take them." Crabbe and Goyle nodded and as they waved a few of the soldiers over they set to work unchaining the old man and the three.

Draco joined Blaise at the side of the fence, watching the movements as the soldiers hurried to comply with their orders. "This seems like a complete waste of time," he commented, and Blaise shrugged.

"It's obvious that Goyle and Crabbe are new at this, your father likely wanted to be certain that things were dealt with accordingly. What will become of those four, do you think?" Blaise nodded towards the supposed leaders of the rebellion.

"The mastermind is an old man. He'll get house arrest, likely, my father isn't barbaric. And the three well, they'll get jail time since they were following his lead.” They watched as the old man was hauled to his feet. The dark-haired boy had just been detached from the pole; as the old man walked past he nodded at the boy, who nodded very faintly back.

The exchange was extremely subtle and took place mostly in the eyes but it caught Draco's attention. He blinked for a moment, and then stepped forward just as they were leading the dark-haired boy away. "Stop. Bring him here." The two soldiers dragging the boy who was still secured in chains, approached slowly. Draco eyed the captive closely.

He was dressed in a simple black tunic, with a thin green belt. There were sandals on his feet with straps that crisscrossed up his legs. He was dirty, but his eyes were clear and remarkably focused for someone slowly being starved and dehydrated, and they were such a vibrant green that Draco found himself staring before he caught himself. This boy was remarkably magnetic; there was no way around it.

"What's your name?" he ordered, satisfied that his voice let on none of his thoughts. He was answered by silence.

To Blaise' surprise Draco did not get angry merely grinned, it was a devil’s grin, but there were traces of something else in it, as if Draco were a small child who had just been given a treat. He couldn't decide what had prompted this reaction but he knew that if he were patient his friend would confide.

"No name?" Draco said. "I'll have to name you, then." He paused and thought, and then smirked. "Emerald." With a quick turn that sent his cloak aflutter, Draco waved the crewmen who he had made wait in the shade over.

They stopped, panting and heaving in front of of their prince who offered only a cryptic smile. "Take him back to the ship," Draco ordered and Blaise had to work hard to hide the look of surprise from his face. He noticed that for once the dark-haired boy, newly dubbed Emerald, had given a reaction, it looked like he'd been slapped across the face, but quickly it faded, and he let himself be jerked forward and away.

Draco turned back to Goyle and Crabbe. "Well, I think we still have more to discuss, do we not?"

They made their way back to the ship at dusk and Draco was proud that he had gotten all the business done in one day. "I have the feeling my father sends me out on these ridiculous 'missions' as a way of preserving my sanity," Draco mumbled as they walked.

"That, and he feels he has better things to do than concern himself with such matters. It does you well do get used to dealing with generals and captives." Draco shrugged. "Speaking of captives," Blaise said, and let the unfinished question hang in the air.

"Wasn't it completely obvious?" Draco asked. When Blaise quirked an eyebrow at him Draco continued, "Who was the one person who didn't ever break character?"

Blaise frowned, trying to see his friend's point. "That boy."

"Exactly. The girl accepted the water, Weasley obviously cracked under the pressure, and that old man stepped forward to protect the girl," Draco paused dramatically. "What if it wasn’t the girl he was protecting?" This was tossed out so remarkably casually that Blaise shook his head, surprised at his friend's behavior.

"Who else, then?"

"Why, Emerald, of course."

"Emerald?" Blaise asked, forgetting to whom the name referred.

"The dark-haired boy. His eyes. Did you see them?" Indeed Blaise had, and he had been hypnotized by them just as it seemed the prince had been. "What's the worst punishment that the old man can receive? House arrest. No one wants to abuse an old man, it makes them seem barbaric and scares civilians. He would have probably been given that anyway because he'd participated, who's going to buy an old slave? He's well past the freeing age. But what would have happened if the leader of the whole thing had turned out to be someone younger. Say, seventeen? Did he look seventeen to you?"

Blaise shook his head in exasperation. "Stay focussed," he scolded, and Draco shrugged.

"He would have gotten much worse. If I'd sent him to my father he probably would have been executed. Or may as well have been."

"Where is he going, then?" he tried to keep his voice casual, but Blaise spotted the darkening of the grey eyes he knew so well.

"He's not going anywhere," was all Draco said.

……………………………………………

As Draco came aboard the ship he was greeted first not by the captain, but by Eve, who met him anxiously. "My lord, I didn't know what to do."

Draco frowned. "With what?"

"With the boy you sent, my lord. I had him washed and cleaned his clothes, but I wasn't certain what you wanted him for. I didn't know what to do."

In truth, Draco didn't really know what he wanted the boy for, either. He had acted on instinct, and his instinct had made an animalistic noise and said 'I want', so Draco had the boy taken back to his ship. From there, he had no clue how to proceed. "Where is he?"

"After I had cleaned him, I set him to sleep in the servant's quarters."

"Did you remove the chains? Did he struggle?"

"I did no such thing. My understanding is that, if a person is in chains then there is a good reason for it. But he did not struggle. He did absolutely nothing."

Draco nodded. "Has he been fed?"

Eve frowned. "As I have said, my lord, I did not know who or what he was. I gave him no food or drink. I was not certain what you wanted."

Draco paused and thought. "When he wakes, feed him and give him water. Keep him in the quarters, but have a crewmember secure him to a pole or something in case he tries anything. If something happens, inform me immediately. Let him out for a few hours. Put someone in charge of him, or several someones, I think.” He thought about it a moment. “Have Iris deal with him, she's quite adept at bossing people about." Draco waved her off and smirked at Blaise. "The trip back should be interesting, don't you think?"

Blaise snorted and rolled his eyes at his prince's antics.

……………………………………………

The next day found Draco underneath the bright silks that had been setup as an awning to block the sun. He was seated on the fluffy cushions along with several of his servants and Blaise, with whom he was playing chess.

It was surprisingly calming, the sun providing light and warmth but not to the point of aggravation thanks to the awning. The wind was subtle and the sound and the rocking of the waves made for a very relaxed prince, and Blaise was equally contented.

A small girl who looked about fourteen hurried forward and bowed before stepping under the tent. "My lord, Iris sent me to ask if now would be an acceptable time to bring out the boy."

Draco looked up and frowned. He seemed about to ask what she was talking about before he waved a hand. "Yes, yes. Fine. Tell Iris to do as she pleases." Blaise smirked. As much as Draco liked pretty things he tired of them so very easily. They refocused on the game and barely heard the clinking of the chains as the boy shuffled across the deck.

He had been washed and his clothes were clean, though he had not been changed, he still wore the same black tunic and the sandals. Draco glanced up and watched a moment before returning his attentions to the game, sending his knight whirling across the board.

The boy stopped at the bow of the boat and leaned over the edge slightly. The servants who were supposed to be watching him all shifted nervously, unsure what to make of him. Blaise kept an eye on them as he moved his bishop.

From where he was leaning at the bow of the boat, the boy turned to glance at the shoreline in the distance and one sandal clad foot rose to scratch a spot on his calf. Draco's eyes strayed towards the front of the boat; Blaise noticed it but said nothing.

Quickly, Draco moved a pawn. The boy turned back, looking straight ahead and then after a moment tilted his head to the side, exposing his neck and shoulder and raised a shackled hand to rub gently at it.

Blaise nudged Draco and Draco quickly returned his attention to the board, moving his knight again. Blaise stifled a chuckle as the blonde's eyes returned to the boy as soon as his move was complete. Blaise took Draco's knight.

They played on for a while before Iris stepped forward and said something; presumably telling the youth it was time to return to his quarters. As he turned he pulled his hand across the wood of the railing and must have gotten a splinter, the startled gasp drew Draco's attention from his move and he looked up in time to see the boy raise the abused finger and place it in his mouth, sucking on it and pouting slightly.

Blaise declared checkmate.

……………………………………………

The journey back to Agathe was five days long and by the eve of the second day Blaise found himself sitting in Draco's cabin looking at a very ruffled prince. He had been called into Draco's rooms presumably to talk about their plans once they returned to the castle or to discuss something or other, as they so often did, but mid way through a debate about the nature of the stars and the chance that divination could be a valid art, Blaise huffed and threw his hands in the air.

"Call him here," Blaise said.

Draco blinked, surprised by a statement that fit nowhere in their conversation. "What? Who are you talking about?"

"The boy. Emerald. It's obvious he's what's really on your mind, so call him here. Do whatever it is you kept him for, and then get your mind off it."

"I'm not thinking about that," Draco hissed. "I'm trying to figure out how the rebellion started. When I become king I'm going to have to deal with a number of them, and if I don't understand how they get started then how am I supposed to prevent them?"

Blaise blinked at him, unconvinced. "Then why don't you ask him?"

"He's mute. The bloody thing isn't talking," Draco said as he rolled his eyes.

"Have you made any attempt to speak with him since he came aboard this ship? No, I didn't think so. You have him cloistered with the servants who are terrified of him because they still have no idea of whom he is or what he's done or why he's here. Call him in, let's have some fun." Draco rolled his eyes at his friend's coaxing, but beckoned Eve.

"Yes, my lord?"

"Bring the boy."

They sat in silence as they waited, listening to the clinks growing louder until there was a knock on the door and Iris stepped forward and bowed. She was very tall and thin, but strong. She was twenty-three and had been at the palace for every one of those years, the daughter of another servant. Iris had been Draco's mother's servant but when Draco was older, Narcissa had sent Iris to work for him and keep an eye on him. Draco trusted her absolutely, and knew her quite well. He did not miss the fact that she was being most civil to the boy, ignoring his shackles and motioning him into the room with a friendly grin, and made a note to speak with her later. At the moment, he waved her off after she handed him the key to the chains.

"Would you like some wine?" Draco offered as he sipped from his goblet. Blaise settled back on the settee, observing. The boy said nothing just looked at Draco, though for once his eyes were not blank, there was a spark of something that Blaise found quite alluring.

"Suit yourself," Draco said. "Take a seat." He motioned to one of the cushions that were situated at the table and the boy, after a moment’s hesitation, sat.

Blaise watched as Draco's eyes ran up the lithe body. "There, much better," Draco said with a small smirk. "Now, where were we?" He turned back to Blaise and Blaise tried to think of something. "Oh yes," Draco said, before Blaise could offer something. "We were talking about my father's politics."

Blaise blinked. "Quite right," he said, wondering where to begin.

"I firmly believe that expansion of the empire is essential. It brings in more money and increases trade and variety of goods. A strong empire requires war to keep the people happy and keep their pride high. Successful war always increases nationalism. And that unifies us. I believe my father’s focus is entirely correct."

"But not all wars can be successful, and they do bring losses. It's possible to have too much war, and that exhausts the people. They grow tired of being without their husbands and sons. They grow tired of death and bloodshed and uncertainty." They debated for quite a while. Their talk soon moved from war to palace politics to how to properly train horses and through it all they heard not a word from the boy, but he watched and listened until, finally when it was very late, he fell asleep.

"Leave him here. I think the servants can do with knowing they'll be safe for the night," Draco said with a wry smirk.

"Iris didn't seem to have a problem with him. And I'm not leaving the leader of a rebellion sleeping in here with you. Alone."

Draco’s eyes narrowed. "I fully intend on shackling him to that railing." Blaise rolled his eyes, immediately taking the key to loop part of the boy's chains around the railing Draco had indicated. "Satisfied?" Draco said when they had shifted the cushion and the sleeping form on top of it closer to the railing and had secured the chains.

"Hardly, but it's as good as it can get."

"Thank you. Now, I'm tired, goodnight, Blaise." Blaise sighed dramatically, executing an exaggerated bow before he left.

……………………………………………

When Draco woke the next morning the first thing he did was glance at the cushion across the room and he found himself smiling at the still sleeping figure of Emerald. Hopping out of bed, Draco quickly cleaned himself and threw on his pants. He was just pulling on his shirt when a shiver running up his spine caused him to turn and emerald eyes immediately confronted him.

Draco quickly regained control of himself and adjusted his shirt, reminding himself that he was the High Prince, and that the strange youth was certainly not the first male that had been in his rooms. He was just trying to think of something to say when there was a hurried knock and Eve quickly entered.

"Oh!" she exclaimed as she bowed. "I'm sorry, my lord. I didn't know you were awake."

"It's quite alright, Eve. Will you fetch another tray?" he asked as she set his breakfast on the small desk. She frowned and then suddenly noticed Emerald who had sat up and was eyeing them both with distrust.

"Of course," she stuttered, and hurried out.

"Did you sleep well?" Draco found himself asking but the boy said nothing, simply continued to watch as he ate. "So did I," Draco answered flippantly. "The rocking of the water is quite soothing." At this point, Eve returned and hesitantly placed the tray by the boy.

"Will you be needing anything else, my lord?"

"No, thank you, Eve. Have them set up the awning, though."

"Of course." She bowed and left.

Draco finished his breakfast and noticed the boy hadn't touched his. "Are you not hungry?" Draco queried, not really expecting an answer and so not quite disappointed when one failed to come. "At least eat the bread. It's quite good." Draco watched the frown appear, but the boy hesitantly picked up the roll and set to work picking out the raisins.

Draco was fascinated. There was something about the way he meticulously rid the roll of all its raisins before hesitantly nibbling on a portion of it that was both amusing and endearing. When the roll was completely eaten the boy looked back at Draco, and Draco shook his head in exasperation. "Fine, be that way. Drink the water and then we'll go outside." The boy again complied and drank the water in one steady chug.

Draco waved Iris in and she only had to walk over to the cushion where Emerald sat and smile and the boy hefted himself upright. He turned back and looked at the railing he was shackled to and Draco was at once reminded of who the boy was and what he was doing in chains. He tossed the key to Iris and stepped out of the cabin. It was far too claustrophobic there.

He made his way over to the awning and settled himself into the wonderful cushions and nodded to Blaise as he came over. "Good morning, my lord," Blaise murmured with a grin. "You're looking well. Up for some more chess?"

They had just begun their game when Emerald made his way out, followed by Iris, and resumed his station at the bow of the boat. Blaise had become used to this. Emerald had done the same thing the other day and the consequences on their chess match had been amusing.

Today, however, Draco looked up and frowned. "Eve, tell Iris to bring him out of the sun. He'll get sunstroke standing out there like that." Eve nodded and did as she was told. Draco returned his attention back to the board and after careful consideration, shifted his queen.

The boy stopped just outside of the awning and frowned as Iris coaxed him under. After a moment a few of the girls who had been reclining shifted over and cleared a larger spot for him and he reluctantly let himself be tugged to the cushions. As it was, he was seated facing sideways, and thus had a perfect view of both Blaise and Draco and the chessboard. He seemed perfectly contented to be ignored and to ignore everyone, which is what Blaise was certain he was doing until several bold moves from Draco had Blaise worrying that he would lose the match.

It was not unusual. Draco was an incredibly skilled player and though Blaise was renowned among his peers, it was rare that he could best the prince. He was just resigning himself to another lost match when a slender hand reached across the board and shifted the queen.

Blaise was ready to yell out in anger as Draco immediately took her. Glaring down at the board Blaise again watched as the hand slipped forward, pushing a pawn into position. Draco moved and Blaise tried to think up a new strategy to account for what the other youth had done. He was at a loss, but needn't have worried. After three moves the hand shot forward again and Draco sat back, stunned.

"Checkmate." The voice was soft and melodic and Draco and Blaise stared first at the board and then at the boy who sat back on the cushions and turned his head out to look at the sea once more.

……………………………………………

Draco stopped as he was entering his room and motioned to Eve. "Bring him," Draco ordered, and Eve hesitated before bowing again and hurrying off. Draco had readied for bed when the familiar clinking was heard, and the soft knock alerted him to Emerald's arrival.

"Enter," he said, and Iris opened the door. "Over there," Draco motioned to the rail as he finished buttoning his shirt. When Emerald was once again securely attached to the rail and a cushion was shifted within his reach, Iris bowed and left and Draco climbed into bed.

He blew out the candle, but found that he lay awake for a long time before finally succumbing to sleep.

……………………………………………

On the fourth day they were hit with a harsh storm and Draco stayed in his room. Having been on many sea voyages he was used to pretty much anything the sea could throw at him. Ever since he was a child, Draco had always loved the water and his tutors had often commented that he was a natural boatman. Emerald it seemed, was not so lucky.

As the weather worsened, Emerald seemed to become more and more unsteady until, backed into a corner and curled in on himself, Draco realized that the boy was about to be quite sick. Blaise had just placed a bowl in front of the boy when he succumbed to the nausea.

When Emerald had regained part of his composure Draco told Blaise to unchain him from the rail and bring him over. They set about distracting him with a game of chess, and though the dazed and slightly green tinged expression never changed, Emerald was not sick again.

The storm had not stopped but Blaise found himself stifling yawns and Blaise saw Emerald's eyes dropping and finally, when the boy's eyes remained closed for several long moments before he was able to drag them open again, Draco suggested that they stop for the night. He noticed a look of panic in the green eyes as he said this and ordered Blaise to shackle Emerald to the large wardrobe, which was securely bolted to the floorboards but was closer to the bed.

Draco changed quickly and, as an afterthought, tossed a blanket over to the boy before he climbed into his bed. The boat lunged forward and it groaned loudly and Draco took pity on the boy. "You'll feel better if you talk. It will distract you," he offered. He was answered by silence.

……………………………………………

On the fifth day the wind was in their favor and despite the storm they were pulling up to the palace docks at suppertime. Draco was eager to get off the boat, for as much as he loved the water he was a very active person and could not take having his movements so restricted.

"My lord, the king awaits your return. He is in his chambers and requests you see him immediately."

Draco nodded and dismissed the palace servant and waited as Eve fastened his heavier cloak about his shoulders. The night was quite cool, but Draco always made a point of being properly attired when he spoke to the king, even though he was his father. "Blaise, are you returning to your home, tonight?"

"I am."

"Come by soon. It gets quite dull without someone to have proper discussions with. Dinner tomorrow?"

"Of course," Blaise said formally with a bow, but there was a gracious smile. Having grown up alongside the prince, it was often difficult to remember the proper decorum.

As Draco exited his rooms he noticed the palace guards who were in the middle of fastening more elaborate chains on Emerald. As Draco passed their eyes locked and Draco found his pace slowing. It was a strange moment shared between them, and Draco left the boat feeling slightly disoriented and more than a little aroused.

……………………………………………

"Father," Draco greeted as he bowed low. Lucius Malfoy smiled and waved his son over.

"How was your journey?"

"Quite dull. But, I must thank you for it just the same, I think enduring Tribute would have been worse."

Lucius laughed at his son's pained expression. "Sometimes I think you are far too spoiled. When you are king there will be no escaping Tribute or any other responsibilities like it."

"I know. All the more reason why I should escape them now." They smirked at each other, and a servant stepped forward offering Draco a goblet of wine, which he readily accepted settling himself on the cushions across from his father.

"Tell me who I will be meeting tomorrow," Lucius said.

"Four people: the leader of the rebellion, and three others. One a female."

"Who was the leader?"

Draco sipped at his goblet remembering startling green eyes. "An old man. The others are much younger; I would place them around seventeen or so. Everyone else I sentenced to slavery."

"Good." Lucius sipped at his goblet, eyeing his son speculatively. "I heard news that one of the rebels traveled here aboard your ship."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I have a request, father." Draco wondered how to phrase it. "I would ask you to consider allowing me to add him to my harem."

"Your harem?"

"Yes, mine. Though if you are interested..." He and his father both had separate harems, though some of the inhabitants belonged to both.

"Don't be ridiculous, Draco. You know as well as anyone that I no longer partake in my harem. They are for show. I will think on it, Draco. You know how your mother is anxious to hear word on who you are considering for your consort."

"Father," Draco sighed. "I really don't see what this has to do with another addition to the harem."

"It will in her eyes. Narcissa is eager to see you settling down, a new addition to your growing collection will serve as testimony to your continued stubborn and childish behavior."

"Hardly childish. I don't need a consort until I am king, which won't be for a while. And I'm only seventeen!"

"I am happy you have such faith in my health. But Draco, you are almost eighteen. And although choosing a consort can be put off, your mother wants to know that you are at least thinking about the future."

"I am thinking about the future, father, which is precisely why I'm not taking this decision lightly. I won't have someone who I cannot trust fully sitting at my side on the throne."

A proud look flashed across Lucius' face. "I will tell you my decision tomorrow after I have met with the captives."

"Yes, father," Draco murmured, and bowed before he left.

……………………………………………

Draco took the roundabout route to the Audience Hall. He wasn't sure why he did this, he had simply stepped out of his rooms and his feet had chosen the direction. Now, as he came through the halls he stopped mid-step and quickly darted into an alcove. The guards were at the doors holding the chains of the redhead and the girl, but Draco had noticed Emerald on his way down the hall. He pressed his back into the wall and began to eavesdrop.

"Honestly, Hermione. I'm worried. Do you know where that blasted git took him? It's all my fault, I shouldn't have opened my bloody mouth but I..."

"There you are!" the girl cried, supposedly to Emerald who had reached them.

"You should keep it down, you know. You're in the bloody palace and it's not like we're alone." This new voice could only be Emerald's, and Draco grinned at the statement.

"Sorry. For everything, I mean. I should have been quiet."

"We both know you would never have managed it long. And it's fine; we'll work it out. How have you been?"

"Fine, but we've been worried about you," the girl said. "Where did he take you?"

"Back to his ship. And don't worry about me. Whatever happens." There was silence and Draco frowned. What did Emerald mean by that? Was he expecting to be executed? He heard the doors open and listened to the oddly comforting sound of the clank of chains. Draco darted out of the alcove and entered through the secret passage into the Audience Hall that would bring him directly to his seat beside his father.

"Ahh, you're here," Lucius drawled as Draco bowed before taking his seat.

"I was detained but yes, I am finally here. I am sorry, father."

"Quite fine." Lucius waved the guards forward. It was a large hall and though the prisoners had entered, they had been kept at the far end. Lucius glanced at his son, "It is not the redhead, is it?" He nearly laughed at his son's wince.

"No, father. It is not the redhead."

The prisoners stood side-by-side at the foot of the dais, and Lucius eyed them skeptically. "You are the leaders of the rebellion?" The redhead rolled his eyes and muttered something. "What was that?" Lucius snarled dangerously. The redhead blanched and one of the guards smacked him soundly with the small staff he carried, and the boy dropped to the floor.

"You will answer the king!" Again the staff was raised but it was stopped by Emerald who, after grabbing the staff mid-stoke, stepped forward, despite the heavy chains held firmly in his guard's grasp, and dropped to one knee.

"Forgive my friend, my lord. He is not himself. He is unwell this morning and meant no disrespect."

Lucius frowned, first at the dark-haired boy who was still bowing, and then at the redhead. "I caution you. I will not tolerate any such disrespect."

"Yes, my lord," Emerald murmured, stepping back. After a dark glare from his friend, the redhead bowed stiffly.

Lucius eyed the three captives and then, after glancing at his son, eyed the dark-haired boy in particular. "What's your name, boy?"

After a pause, the ebony haired teenager stepped forward and, with a glance at Draco murmured, "Emerald."

Draco was surprised to find the boy so willing to talk, but was happy to hear the soft melodic voice. He was surprised by the way the boy could talk and yet say nothing. He capitulated when it was necessary, there was no way a rebel captive could remain arrogant before a king, and yet the boy's demeanor demanded respect. He was still quite magnetic. Draco wondered what conclusion his father would come to.

"Emerald?" Lucius continued to stare at the boy and Draco wondered if his father was perhaps as affected by the boy as he was. "I sentenced your friend ... Dumbledore, was it? to house arrest. What do you think I should do with you and your friends?"

"My thoughts and opinions mean little when I stand before a king," the boy answered smoothly. The redhead gagged but was quickly silenced when the girl trounced on his foot soundly.

"Do not be coy with me," Lucius reprimanded, but Draco knew his father was amused.

"I meant no offense by it."

"Your friends are sentenced to Azkaban for the duration of twenty years. And you ... I give you to my son." Draco felt like grinning, but a steady emerald gaze quickly pierced him and he felt winded. The guards immediately stepped forward to carryout their king's orders. Lucius stood and, smirking at his son, brushed off the thanks. "I will leave you to deal with your new catamite."

"Thank you, father," Draco said again and stood up as his father and the other two captives were dragged off, the redhead cursing and calling back to his friend. Emerald, however, remained quite calm. Turning to a guard, Draco said, "Call Severus. Bring him to me immediately."

……………………………………………

Severus Snape was Keeper of the King's and also the High Prince's harem. He was a quiet and strict man who despised his charges for the same reasons that Draco tired of them. The incessant scheming and constant complaints made him an irritable man, and when he arrived before Draco he looked at Emerald with distaste.

Filling out the paperwork quickly, two documents that required Draco's signature as proof that Emerald now was his property, Severus asked where the boy was to be stationed. "He will have Pansy's rooms." Severus quickly waved one of the guards to notify the girl immediately, though the order was a surprising one.

Pansy Parkinson was one of the most beautiful women in the harem and she had been given the largest rooms within it. They had a large balcony and private wash chambers and her rooms were closest to the small bridge that led to Draco's part of the palace. To be granted such a prestigious place within the harem so quickly would undoubtedly cause difficulty. Not to mention the fact that Pansy was attached to both her prince and her position in his favors, even if he had not touched her in a long while.

"She will be moved immediately."

"Good. I also would like you to have someone purchase some things for him. Clothes and other necessities."

"Yes, of course." When there seemed to be nothing else to say Severus waved the two guards that still held the chains attached to Emerald out and he followed them through the door that led back to the harem. He was just about to close it when Draco stopped him.

"Severus, do not bring him to my rooms tonight. You will tell Emerald that there is no rush, he is to come when he is ready."

Severus bowed again, "Yes, my lord."

……………………………………………

The door closed and Emerald was left alone in the large room. The guards had at least removed his shackles and it felt good to be rid of them. He felt lighter, even as he suddenly felt heavy with the realization of what had just happened. He wandered over to the large bed with diaphanous lavender hangings, the room had obviously belonged to a woman. Though it was beautifully decorated, the colors were quite feminine and it made him feel odd, emphasizing that even in his own rooms he still did not belong.

Already he ached with the loss of his friends; at least they knew his real name. He was prepared to do anything to stay alive and help them. To know a person by their name was to admit a certain level of intimacy. Though he knew it was foolish, he wasn't prepared to let anyone at the palace know he was not Emerald, but Harry. He trusted no one yet and he was fairly certain that would continue. The prince, whether he knew it or not, had tossed him into the lion's den. Pansy, the previous inhabitant of the room, had refused to move even after lengthy negotiations between her and Snape. In the end, she had been hauled from the room by three guards. Harry was certain trouble was coming his way.

A knock on the door startled him from his thoughts. When he invited the person to enter Snape swirled into the room. "You should be more cautious about your guests," he said coolly. Harry returned the dispassionate gaze. "I understood your measurements have already been taken?"

"Yes, sir."

Snape seemed to approve of the respectful tone. "Good. I will have a few outfits sent up. Do you have a preference on the style?"

"Er ... not really," Harry said. Snape smirked at him and turned to leave. "Sir? If it's all right to ask, what time will I be called to the prince's chambers?"

Snape stopped and, without turning, said, "You will not be called. The prince gave orders that you are to notify me as soon as you feel you are ready." He shut the door and Harry sat back on his bed. Why was the prince being so respectful? It was common knowledge that new catamites always went their first night, and then there was the boat ride. Why had the prince let him ride to Agathe with him? Harry was very confused.

……………………………………………

"You're new. Ahh, you're the one Pansy's been whinging about all day, then? You're in her old room?"

Harry halted mid-step and peered into the large garden that he had only just entered. He spotted the woman immediately. "Yes."

She grinned and tossed her black hair over her shoulder. "Brilliant. All that fucking went to Pansy's head. She's the worst one here, I'd watch her if I were you." Harry nodded, but the girl waved him off. "Awfully shy, aren't you?" He found himself blushing slightly. "Ahh, sorry. I forgot, you're new, so you'd be a virgin, wouldn't you?"

"That isn't necessarily true," he said, feeling oddly defensive.

Her laughter was bright and lightened Harry’s mood just to hear it. "No, of course it's not necessarily true. You've had a life before getting here, but I can always tell. The name's Cho Chang."

"Emerald." Harry shook her hand and found himself smiling.

"Has Snotty Sev showed you around? Or has he left you helpless?" she asked with an impish grin.

"Well, I..."

"He hasn't told you a thing, has he? Can't be helped, he's not very fond of us, you know. Doesn't approve of the way some of us scheme and plot."

"To do what?"

Cho shook her head. "Everyone wants to be made Consort, of course. It wasn't so bad at first. When I got here, Draco was still relatively young. Now the pressure is on; at least from the Queen. She wants to assure herself that her son will settle down accordingly and behave like a proper prince and future king. It's ridiculous, he's only seventeen, but she's always been a bit sentimental. She wants grandchildren but the prince seems undecided."

"Undecided?" Harry asked as they began to walk through the large gardens.

"Course. He likes his concubines as much as his catamites. The king doesn't care either way, his main concern is that the prince learns to be a good ruler, but the queen has always been a bit insecure. She's only ever had the one child, complications, you know. And with an entire harem waiting to step into her place she doesn't believe the king when he says that she's all he needs. I'm guessing a part of that has made her worried about Draco. She feels it's her duty to have her only child be the ideal child."

"Which he's not," Harry said, and Cho laughed.

"Get used to it, Emerald; you've entered a place where people take their melodrama with their siestas and afternoon snacks." Harry shook his head wondering if he would ever get his bearings in this place. "The harem isn't so bad, if you survive the plots. There are three swimming pools, twelve baths and ten gardens." Harry was stunned and Cho laughed at his expression.

"Right now your main concern is Pansy. She's possessive as hell of the prince. She's convinced she's to be future consort even though he hasn't gone near her in ages. Her future is looking especially dim now that he's given her room to you. You've got her full attention, as well as everyone in the harem. Play your cards well and make the right friends and maybe you won't find yourself at the pointy end of a dagger."

"They do that?"

"They'd do anything. But don't worry, if there's one thing Severus is a genius with it's looking after us. You've got his attention now too; he'll be making sure you settle in. Just don't get too dependent. If you fall out of favor with the prince he might ease up on his protection of you. It's all a matter of alliances."

"A small war," Harry said, suddenly feeling on solid ground once more.

It wasn't what he'd been thinking about. The only thing on his mind had been survival, and suddenly he was a catamite in the prince's harem. Somehow knowing exactly what he was in for made him comfortable, war was something he knew. Strategizing and manipulating had gotten him full support in his city and was what made the rebellion so successful. He was good at it, and it was comforting to know that this would no different.

"The only thing for it is to either do the impossible or do your thing and, when the prince gets bored, disappear into the shadows. There's a lot of power hiding in the shadows. You might benefit from it."

"What happened for you?"

"Me? I was given as tribute to honor the prince. He got tired of me."

Harry frowned. "That's it? He just suddenly got bored?"

"What do you think harems are for? The prince is especially known to be fleeting in his fancies."

"Was that the impossible thing that you mentioned before?"

"Yes," Cho said wryly. "It's one thing to have the prince when you first become part of the harem. It's another thing to keep the prince for any odd length of time. The standing record is three months. That's a long time. No one has ever come close to that one."

"Three months," Harry murmured.

Cho showed him around the harem. The women they encountered watched him, some with curiosity or disdain, others with an unnerving lust. The men they crossed looked him up and down measuringly and either winked, or scowled. By the time Harry made it back to his rooms he was certain that the only way to survive was to attain and then maintain the prince's affection. Unfortunately, Harry had no experience to help him establish how to do that. He knew little of the prince and his likes or dislikes, all he knew was that after a time, the prince would get bored.

Bored. The same thing over and over. It had to be a similar process for every one of the concubines and catamites, but Harry wasn't like that. He wasn't a wealthy town person, son of a nobleman or a piece of tribute, and there was a clue that the prince already was willing to view him differently, after all, there was no pressure on Harry; he wasn't being forced to go to the prince at all. He was setting the pace, he had the power.

Harry grinned and asked one of the guards outside his room to summon Snape. He had received clothes, nothing too extravagant. Snape had also given him some accessories, bracelets and anklets and the like. But it wasn't what he needed. Not quite.

"Sir," Harry asked, making sure to look respectful and properly awed, Snape liked to feel powerful. "You asked me, when I first came here three days ago, if I had a preference about clothes." When Snape only quirked an eyebrow, Harry grew bolder and flashed the smile that used to get him out of trouble with his notoriously ill-tempered aunt. Snape was nothing compared to her and Harry noticed the man softening immediately. "Would it be too late now to make a few requests?"

---------------------------
End Chapter One