Disclaimer: The Maiden of Autumn owns nothing.

… *points at*I blame ALL of this on Troy.

…That is all.

*sighs* Fine.

This was a little idea that I got, I dunno, fuck, last spring, while thinking about the movie Troy. It was awhile ago and I liked it so much that I decided to outline this little story instead of listening to my college Lit sub preach on about what she knew absolutely shit-nothing about, (C'mon, lady. You have a Master's in English and Literature and you don't even know what's going on in A Midsummer's Night Dream? Sad.). Our normal professor took maternity leave for like, all of the semester and we had a sub who was supposed to know what she was talking about.

…Suuuuure you do, lady. I can tell a hyperbole from an oxymoron, unlike you. Psh. And then, our normal teacher left a final that was worth 100 points and had 100 questions. Each point was a question. Guuh. Combine that and a shit sub and it's a miracle that I only missed 1 question on that final.

…Good times, man. Good times.

Let's see… it's marked as completed now, but I might come back and continue it one day… You can either assume that Apollo, in the form of a human named Light, stumbled across the temple in the future war and freed L, and they went on to live happy mortal lives until Light had to return to being Apollo and took L with him to Olympus.

Or… there might be something more should I ever meander back to this story and decide to continue it. I dunno, though. I wanted to write something different, where there's some genuine love and feelings between the two.

Also… I kinda somewhat have a thing for a Light who's obsessed with L. It's a nice switch, because there's so many fics where it's the other way around. Not saying that it's a bad thing, of course, just that a switch every now and then is nice.

In Troy, there is a temple to Apollo, god of the sun, poetry, and healing. He is much revered in Troy, and this temple is very prestigious and well-cared for, as it is a testament to his power, and it houses the most precious thing to Apollo and this shining city as well.

Oracles.

They speak the words of the past and future, things that have passed and things that are yet to come, due to Apollo's gift of Sight. They are his mouth from the gods to mortals, and are visited by him when he has need for his priests or followers to hear what he has to say. Serving as a messenger for other gods as well, the Oracle is also able to discern what other gods wish for him to speak as well, and priests from other temples of gods visit this Oracle as well to hear their gods' words.

These Oracles are men and women who have the god-mark of Apollo, a golden-colored mark on their inner right thigh in the shape of a sun. These people are Apollo's chosen, sought out as soon as the previous Oracle passes- for Apollo as well as the other gods always must have a spokesperson.

Oracles are most often of the upper classes or royalty and are searched out from birth. As soon as the Oracle passes on, it is said that a new child is born with the god-mark, to be found and trained to hear the gods, speak their words, and if the god should ever wish it, please them in any way the god saw fit.

…But when the last Oracle passed, instead of a glorious celebration to send their spirit off, and a grand search for the next Oracle from the upper class and royalty, there was a somber mood in the air. Strange occurrences had happened during the course of the last Oracle. And with the return of Prince Paris, (whose return had foretold the future fall of Troy) at the same moment the Oracle passed, the mood was only even more dismal, for while the royal family as glad to have their son back and welcomed him with open arms, the fearful city was not so.

Continuing in accordance with tradition, there was a celebration, though there was a strange feeling in the air as the people of Troy celebrated. Afterwards, the guards and people of the city assembled as all the newborn children, reported to be born in the moments after the Oracle passed, were gathered.

One after the other, these babies, held by hopeful mothers, were examined by the head priest of Apollo, assisted by two other experienced priests, searching for the golden sun on the inner right thigh. It was a city-wide event that took place halfway through the festivities- the first half were to send off the Oracle's spirit to Elysium, and the ending half was to welcome and usher in the new Oracle, whose training and confinement would begin as soon as the festival was done.

And it was a shocking moment when it was revealed that not one of the children were reported to have the god-mark. Disbelief swept the city, along with the fear that perhaps the return of Prince Paris was an ill-omen, and that his return was against the wishes of the gods and Apollo had deserted them. Panicked, the priests and king ordered a sweep of the city for all newborn children and those up to one year in age, all of which were then examined in frantic haste for the god-mark.

There was no child that bore the mark.

A dismal, oppressive mood settled over the city as the Oracle's dais remained unfilled, the Oracle's chambers empty, and the city without an Oracle. Without an Oracle to consult, people were lost, guideless. The gods no longer spoke to the people of the city and they were lost, confused and without guidance.

5 heavy, confused years later, there was an occurrence that changed everything. An Oracle had been found, and it was in the most unassuming of people, a parentless child that had been living in the streets. He was wholly aware of the golden mark upon his thigh, but refused to show it.

He knew what it meant for him and his future, and wished no part of the pretty cages that Oracles lived in. He had heard enough of what an Oracle's lifestyle was like, and the sort of golden entrapment that they lived in had no appeal. It was not hard to hide the mark upon his thigh, for he always wore tunics that concealed it.

However, others who did not share his secret burden had no such qualms about keeping a future Oracle secret. While bathing in the river outside of Troy, a group of street urchins with the same intentions stumbled upon him while he was in the midst of getting dressed. They saw the mark upon the boy's thigh, and though he swore them to secrecy, word quickly spread from the children's mouths along the grapevine and to Apollo's priests.

It was only a day before they came for him.

For twelve years they kept their new Oracle locked away, training him and forcing him to use the Sight that he had been gifted with. To the Oracle, this was a lifetime.

However, twelve years is nothing to a god, and at the end of those years, something happened that would change the Oracle's life forever and bring about the destruction of Troy.

"No! What are you doing?!" L cried as he was dragged into the circular room by two larger, older priests, struggling the whole while. His legs flashed out in an attempt to injure the two restraining him, perhaps dislocate their knees and give him a chance to escape. However, they had long ago grown wary of him and his tricks, and so held L at arm's length, their hands tight about his wrists, giving him no chance of escape.

Curses and dire threats spilled from L's lips as they dragged him, protesting, into the Speaking Room, which L knew from his forced lessons that it was where Oracles were brought to hear the gods. Closed off and heavily guarded, only a select few were let inside to witness the Oracle converse with the gods and perhaps bask in the presence of a god themselves.

Normally, the circular room held a large raised dais, cushioned so that the Oracle's body may recline while his mind was immersed in talking to the gods. However, they had anticipated L's protests, and had made arrangements. The circular dais was still in place, cushions present, but there were iron rings screwed firmly into the white marble with sturdy steel manacles and chains attached to them.

The priests would hear what the gods had to say; it was an Oracle's duty to be the spokesperson, the link between the gods and mortals. The boy would do his duty, no matter what had to be done to ensure it happened. Even if it meant strapping the boy down to prevent him from causing more problems.

The Head Priest was already present as a struggling L and two burly guards entered the room, along with three other consulting priests of high ranking. Calm and serene, they watched emotionlessly as the guards wrangled a twisting, kicking L to the dais and held him down, snapping manacles about his wrists and ankles, holding him securely in place.

"No!" L shouted angrily, leveling a loathing glare upon them. "I am the Oracle! If I was so honored and revered as you would have me believe, you would not be forcing this upon me!"

Ignoring L's words, the High Priest stepped forwards into L's line of sight, gesturing for the consulting priests to burn the incense to entice Apollo to show himself. A blend of herbs and spices that created a warm, spicy smell when burnt, it was Apollo's special incense and was always used to lure him to show himself and speak to the Oracle.

"Your eyes flashed golden, Oracle," the High Priest informed him as the others poured the incense into a bowl, sprinkled oil over it, and then lit it, blue eyes watching keenly in satisfaction as the manacles were strapped about the struggling boy's wrists, preventing him from escaping. "Apollo wishes to converse with you personally- that is the sign that this is so."

"My eyes did no such thing!" L hissed, leveling a loathing glare at his captors. Surely, if a god wished to speak through him, he would have felt some sort of sign. There had been none, however, which only heightened L's displeasure at his current situation. "Let me go!"

"I cannot do that," the High Priest replied, stepping away and off to the side as the scent of heated, spicy smoke filled the air, curling lazily from the incense bowl. "It is Apollo's wish to speak with you, and as his priest, I serve him and do not refuse his callings. And as his Oracle, it is your duty to speak his words and please him in any way he sees fit. It was what you were chosen for- you know this."

Unable to refute those words- for he had been chosen, although he did not choose this for himself- L fell silent, hands clenching tightly as he attempted to calm himself. Breathing in the spicily-scented air, L tried to relax, for there was no getting around this. There was nothing he could do, and so he simply closed his eyes and waited, breathing calmly and steadily, forcing himself to relax and gather himself.

Seconds, minutes, hours might have passed in which L lay still, waiting for the presence of Apollo to make itself known to him. He was not impatient- for he knew that Apollo could not be summoned like a dog at will, and would show himself when he pleased.

…Nonetheless, it was still somewhat of a shock when L felt the first whisper of a warm breeze ghost across his body, ruffling his white robes and twisting through his hair.

Cracking his eyes open, L could see that the smoke had stirred- no longer was it curling lazily in a thick, uninterrupted screen, but instead, it had been stirred into a hazy mist, as if someone had waved their hand through it- or walked through it.

A low murmur of suppressed excitement rose among the priests- for they had experienced this before, and knew that Apollo was in the room. His presence made the temperature rise the slightest bit, and the almost iron-y smell of sunlight penetrated through the spicy, heady perfume of the incense.

Why do you struggle so, my Oracle?

Light and inquisitive, the voice echoed within the room, heard only as a sigh of wind by the keenly- watching priests, but heard clear as day to the god-keen ears of L. He did not answer that, unable to tell if it was a rhetorical question or an inquiry that demanded an answer.

There was a small pause, and then the voice came again, this time closer, as if the possessor of the voice was standing next to him, instead of very far away.

Why do you twist and struggle and attempt to block out my voice?

"Why…?" L whispered, his eyes closing, emotion welling inside of him. There was no awe at being talked to by a god- only a festering, seething anger at being chosen for this hated life by the god speaking to him. "I struggle…" L said quietly, attempting to tamp down the rage threatening to infect his voice, "I struggle because I am here against my will."

Foolish mortal, foolish Oracle, the voice came, mixed irritation and amusement lacing it. You think you have a choice in the matter. Even if you were to escape by some miraculous chance, there is no way that you could ever be free.

"Why?" L asked, opening his eyes to stare at the ceiling in shock. He had thought… perhaps deep down, he had hoped that if Apollo saw his unhappiness, he would help him. But… was it not so?

Because, my Oracle, the voice sighed, you are my Oracle. I chose you for a reason. Your unfailing spirit, your outstanding resolve and bravery… and your pure masculine beauty. I chose you, and so you are mine.

"That is ridiculous," L said bluntly, eyes narrowing despite the priest's sharply indrawn breaths. They could not hear what Apollo was saying- though L knew that they would have given anything to be able to do so themselves, and that they couldn't have what they desire most gave him a sadistic thrill- but they could hear L and correctly guessed that he had just called Apollo's words ridiculous.

See? Such defiant bravery in the face of a god. I chose well.

"You did not, because I refuse to do this!" L shouted, hands clenching tightly around the chains holding him in place.

Such reckless words… if you were facing any other god that did not favor you as highly as I do, you would indeed be in trouble, my Oracle.

L glared at the ceiling, refusing to grace those words with a response. If what Apollo said was true, he enjoyed toying with L, seeing that defiance and reveling in provoking him to new heights.

…Silence? You refuse to speak to me? Why, my Oracle? Why defy me in such a way?

"Because I do not want this!" L cried, twisting upon the table, tugging at the chains that bound him to the table. Hooking his calves off the end of the dais, he attempted to pull himself down, biting his lip as the metal cut into the thin skin of his wrists, the harsh, cold bite of the metal making him almost cry out in pain. Deep down, he knew it was futile to attempt to escape, but for his pride, his sanity, he had to do something- he could not simply lie still and be offered up as a sacrifice to a greedy god who knew nothing of human emotions and feelings.

A soothingly warm breeze caressed the line of L's sharp, high cheekbone as the voice came once more, sounding almost… insulted. A small thrill of evil delight went through L at that- it pleased him to insult the being that had trapped him within these circumstances. Of all the other children clamoring for the chance to be in his position as Oracle of the Gods, the one Apollo picked had to be the one who desired no part of this life. It was cruelly ironic in such a terrible way, and every time he thought about it- such as now- it made bile want to rise in his throat.

"…And why do you not want this?" the voice whispered directly into his ear, a warm wind ruffling his hair and sliding down to brush over his bared, naked shoulders.

"You understand nothing of humans, foolish god," L hissed, angry now, angry because the god did not understand, could not understand how much L loathed being here, under the constant scrutiny of expectant priests, forced to endure inhaling cloying smoke day after day in order to induce visions so that he may work on clarifying and deciphering them to better control them. Or his lessons in defense, for as the High Priest said, "An Oracle is a very desired thing, and Apollo chooses to grace Troy alone with the gift of one. It would be in many other cities' interests to acquire Apollo's Oracle for themselves."

"I hate it here," L spat out, opening his eyes, not surprised to see a breathtakingly handsome face with golden-colored skin and molten amber eyes looming over his own, whisper-close. The god was in here, he had known, and that Apollo was choosing to reveal himself was no surprise- it was supposed to happen, he had been told. He had gotten glimpses of gods before, heard faint whispers as their voices reached him, but they never wandered so close to allow L to truly discern their forms or words.

"Why?" Apollo whispered, searching L's black eyes with a wholly consuming gaze. Apollo's body solidified from the smoky outline he had taken on before, and L felt the slide of naked, unnaturally burning-hot skin against the skin of his own that was not covered up by the robe the priests had adorned him in. The feel of such intimacy after a lifetime of forced and yet chosen distance from other people made L gasp sharply, his thoughts derailing momentarily at the new stimulus.

A small smile spread over Apollo's dazzlingly lovely face and he shifted atop L to cup his cheek, leaning down to rest his forehead against L's. "You fight the path that you have no choice but to take. I do not understand why you do not want this life, for anyone else would take your place in a heartbeat. You confuse me, and that… that is fascinating." Apollo's eyes were warm, sparkling amber pools as they held L's, and within the god's eyes, there was an eternity of knowledge, of vast experience and understanding. And yet…

There was a distinct sense of frustration held within those depthless eyes. Apollo was a free being; as a god, he was not bound by mortal obligations, nor was he shackled to the earth by a physical body. He knew nothing, absolutely nothing of what it was like to live a caged life as L had, could not understand why L would not want the pretty life that he had been forced into. As a being that had never been caged, he knew nothing of the invisible bars that L was held by. The cause of frustration was that Apollo could not fathom L's reason for unhappiness, and L felt a small bit of dark delight in causing the god hovering above him even just a small bit of the overwhelming, heavy frustration that L felt.

But perhaps… if he could force Apollo to understand how truly unhappy he was, he could garner sympathy with the same god that had trapped him into this life of gilded captivity.

"This life is a cage," L breathed, shifting restlessly underneath Apollo. The harsh metal of the manacles dug into his skin, but he scantly noticed them, caught as he was in the warm, light pools of the sun-god's eyes. They were captivating, so bright and warm, as if he was bathing under the light of the sun. The sight, the feeling of such an intense, powerful gaze on him made him both want to luxuriate in the attention and curl up, away from the attention. "And I am but a pretty prize, to be trapped my whole life and put on display to please others with my words torn forcefully from my mind and throat. That is not the life for me."

"But the cage is safe," Apollo countered, amber eyes sparking with something akin to anger, the frustration held within his eyes only growing. "It keeps you safe from others who would wish to take what I want as mine. I chose you- out of all others, I chose you, because I have seen what and who you are, and I desire to keep you away from greedy, covetous eyes."

Apollo was speaking, but the thick, spicy smoke that seemed to become headier the longer Apollo was around him was fogging L's senses, making him less aware of the words spoken in the god's low, sultry voice and more hyper-aware of the exquisite feel of hot skin against his, fingertips tracing maddeningly lightly over his face and bared shoulders.

However, L was able to gather enough presence of mind to discern what Apollo was saying and breathlessly forced out in refute, "The tiger that is tamed and kept in a household and away from hunters still longs for the forest from whence he came."

Apollo seemed to sense L's loss of mind and smiled darkly down at him, desire for the Oracle he had chosen thrumming through his veins. For so long, he had watched the Oracle from the sidelines, admiring his mind and resolve, garnering an appreciation for the long, lithe body and lovely, pale flesh that had scantly been touched by the sun's kiss.

By his kiss.

"…I think…" Apollo said slowly, thoughtfully, "that it is not the cage you fear, my tiger, but the loneliness that accompanies being set away from others."

"I need no one," L hissed, anger clearing his mind at Apollo's assumptions. Who did this god think he was, to tell L what he did and did not believe? Even though… a small part of L's heart knew this was true; as a child, he had not had many friends, but those he had he cherished with his heart. Being set upon a heavy pedestal as he was now, with no other company other than the priests who sought to mold him into a perfect Oracle, was not for him.

"Loneliness is not the issue, god," L said vehemently. "I simply want my freedom- I want to be able to do as I wish, as I alone dictate and not what egotistical priests and desperate, grasping humans want."

"Ah…" Apollo sighed, a glimpse of understanding lighting in his shimmering amber eyes. "You wish free will."

"More than you can imagine," L said quietly, growing somber as his true desire was voiced.

"My Oracle… it pains me to see you so desolate. I would give you your freedom if I could, but I was tasked with finding the Oracle and keeping them in my care, for the other gods to use as they needed. To let you go free, to allow you to escape into the world and allow no one to hear your words would bring a great wrath upon myself," Apollo whispered, and the genuinely apologetic voice made something well within L's throat.

L knew this- deep down, he knew this, and though it stung to be reminded of his inescapable duty. He longed for freedom with every fiber of his being, and yet, he knew that he would never escape. He was watched too carefully, and Apollo's words were the final blow. L closed his eyes in resignation, feeling the hopelessness start to well up within him once more, because even if he managed to escape, Apollo would find some way to bring him back, so that he would not have to face his fellow gods' wrath.

He felt warm eyes upon him, assessing him and trailing along his form. His body felt chilled with despair, with the knowledge that this helpless cage was to be his life, his whole life from now on. It was a strange sense of loneliness that swept over L's thin body, because any hope that Apollo would take pity on him and release him from this cage had been demolished with the god's words.

Lost as he was within his dismal thoughts, it was a sharp surprise when a gentle touch of sun-warmed fingers trailed along the sharp line of his pale cheekbone, tracing gently over it. His eyes slipped open and he stared up, directly into amber ones that seemed saddened now, as if they could feel the blackness welling within the human and that in turn, saddened him as well.

"Oh, my Oracle…" Apollo whispered, and there was a new look in his eyes, hopeful and somewhat determined. "Despite your protests, I can sense that you are lonely. Perhaps… if that loneliness were taken away, this would not be so bad?"

"I am not sure what you mean, sun god," L said warily, distrusting the dark glint that had sparked to life within the god's molten amber eyes. He tensed under Apollo, entirely unsure of where the god was going with his line of questioning.

However, L's words only garnered a breathy chuckle from Apollo, causing the god to close his eyes and shake his head in a gesture that was almost fond. The god pushed himself up, so that his knees were on either side of L's thighs, straddling the young Oracle.

L watched the golden god warily, unsure of what he was going to do. Had he somehow offended the god with his words? Or perhaps the god had another idea in mind, he thought upon recalling the glint that he had seen within golden eyes.

A sudden clink and abrupt lack of weighted iron manacles upon his wrists and then his ankles broke him out of his internal speculation. Shocked, he looked up, only to meet glittering amber eyes but a few inches away from his own.

"My naïve Oracle… ah, but that is what I like about you," Apollo whispered, a gentle smile pulling at the corners of full, sensual lips. Something gentle and unknown made the god's eyes shimmer, and L felt a moment of confusion at the sight, parting his lips in the beginning of a question.

"What are you- ngh!" L's question was cut off as Apollo's hot hand trailed down to part his robes, fingertips sliding sensually over his skin as they laid the two sides of the loosely-tied robe off to L's sides. A warm, spicily-scented wind caressed his skin in the wake of the sun-god's touches, and shocked, L could only lay and shudder at the first gentle touches by fiery fingers.

Though his arms and legs were now free, L could only lay, his hands still laying above his head and legs lying flat upon the dais. His head was slightly laid back, black hair spilling over the cushioned surface of the dais, black eyes open wide in surprise as Apollo's hands spanned the expanse of his ribcage, fingers splaying over the smooth, pale skin that had been untouched by the sun for most of his young life.

Molten golden eyes flicked up to assess L's face, gauging the reaction that had been shocked onto the previously emotionless visage. It pleased Apollo, that he was the first one to garner such a delicious reaction upon this mortal.

In all of the days, months, years that he had secretly observed his chosen Oracle, he had rarely seen such open emotions bring life to that pale, lovely face. It brought him pride to be the one to elicit such a deliciously honest expression from both the boy's body and face.

L, though, was completely unaware of what was going through the sun god's mind. He was unused to such a gentle touch- any touch other than reprimanding slaps or hits. To be touched in such a gentle, almost loving way was something that L had never experienced before.

Gentle fingers wrapped around the insides of his thigh, slowly spreading them, and L felt Apollo's lean body settle between them, kneeling carefully. The sun god's hands traveled slowly up, caressing pale skin as they did so, making L catch his breath as a subtle heat began to grow within his stomach at the erotic touches.

His eyes slipped open, and he lowered his gaze to see golden eyes upon him, lust burning brightly within him and causing his breath to hitch in anticipation. He could not help but compare Apollo to himself, though, noticing the difference in build and skin color.

Apollo was beautifully golden, his skin a natural gilded shade, and possessed a strong build, though not overly so. His build was more a swimmer's, with strong shoulders, slim hips, and a V-shaped torso. He was the epitome of beauty, a perfect example of a god, and it almost hurt to look upon him.

His musings were interrupted, however, at the first touch of hot fingers upon his erect length. Apollo's fingers grasped his erection firmly but not painfully, thumb sweeping over the sensitive red tip that was just beginning to leak precum.

At that first touch, L's eyes flew wide open and his hand flew over his mouth to stifle a gasp of pure pleasure. It was like nothing he had ever experienced, a feeling of pure, unadulterated ecstasy sizzling through his body. "Apollo!" L choked out, as the hot hand began to move upon his length, unable to stop the small moans that began dropping from his lips and the small thrusts his hips began to give.

Wide-eyed, Apollo watched as L writhed beneath him, already so overcome by even just a simple action. "So honest…" Apollo said quietly, reverently. "I would have thought…" he mused, before the god blinked and a small smile overtook his full lips. "But then again…" Apollo continued, dipping his head to brush hot lips against the sharp line of the Oracle's hipbone.

L gave a sharp jerk at the touch, and Apollo let out a breathy chuckle. "The life of an Oracle does not allow for this, does it?" Apollo whispered against the skin of his hip, giving it a gentle kiss, even as his hand continued to move upon L's erection, making the lean body before him writhe and gasp at the euphoric feelings that assaulted his body.

L just barely was able to hear the question that Apollo posed him. Even though he judged it to be a rhetorical one that did not beg and answer, he still shook his head, ebony-black hair whipping across the sheets as his hips jerked instinctively into the warm hand that enclosed him, desperate for friction and the coil of heat and pleasure that was pooling within his stomach. Apollo was right, though. He was not naive by any means- the priests had gleefully instructed him upon what he was to expect from the gods that wished to express their affections upon him.

However… he had not been told that it would feel anything like this. The aching, burning need that seared through his veins and the pleasure that curled within his groin, growing hotter with each stroke of Apollo's hand and swipe of his thumb across the sensitive tip was something that he had never experienced for himself nor told of. The mechanics he knew of, yes, but the feelings that accompanied such actions, he did not.

Nothing the priests had told him of about this sort of contact could have ever prepared him for the feeling of Apollo's touch. For the first time in his short life, L had no way to protect or shield himself from the consuming feelings racing through him, and it left him defenseless, writhing upon the dais with Apollo hovering over him, soaking in the Oracle's reactions with hungry eyes.

It was a beautiful sight to behold, watching the Oracle that he had desired for so come undone under his hands, and only at this much, as well. Apollo could not help but wonder what it would feel like to finally be encased within that slim body, sheathed in L's tight heat.

A needy moan escaped his full lips at the thought, and with a fleeting apologetic thought to L for his impatience and inability to truly draw this out as he wished to, he slid one hand down L's inner thigh, conjuring up a clear, thick substance as he did so.

The first touch of gentle fingers at his entrance did not surprise L as much as he had expected to- his shock and slight fear was tossed to the side in favor of gasping as moist heat enveloped the head of his erection, a soft, hot tongue sweeping along the very tip, attempting to delve into the sensitive slit at the very center. Inch by inch, L's erection was taken into Apollo's caring mouth, successfully distracting him from the discomfiting feel of a single finger tentatively pressing into L's entrance and probing around.

He certainly felt it, even as he gasped out Apollo's name when the sun god's head slowly started to move up and down his erect length, lavishing it with heat and wetness that threatened to drive him absolutely mad with the hot pleasure that it incited within him. It was almost overwhelming, and when Apollo's golden-skinned cheeks hollowed and the sun god started to genuinely suck, L let out a sobbing gasp of Apollo's name. His hands reached down and desperately grasped at the silken strands of Apollo's hair, twining in it, even as his thighs clenched helplessly around the sun god's head.

"Apollo!" L cried, back arching as Apollo quite suddenly added a second finger and twisted the both of them, pressing sharply upwards and hitting something that made L's spine arch upwards and a cry of pure euphoria be ripped from his throat. It made Apollo's golden eyes open wide as they flitted upwards, taking in the beautifully defined lines of L's lithe, muscular body.

He could just barely see L's face from where he was kneeling, and his heart gave a lurch as he saw the look of ecstasy that L's face fore, his reddened lips parted and lovely obsidian eyes wide open and sightless as the pleasure overtook him. He was mesmerized as L's head whipped upon the dais, soft black spikes splaying across the cushions in a swathe of black.

Apollo swallowed tightly around L's hot length still resting in his mouth, which garnered another sharp cry that was almost pure music to Apollo's ears. His fingers were encased in tight heat, something that he had almost forgotten in favor of watching L writhe in pure ecstasy. Tentatively, he spread the two digits, stretching the tight ring of muscle that was L's entrance, all while making sure to keep stroking and rubbing along L's prostate.

L almost couldn't take it. It was just on this side of too much for his mind and body to take, even though he knew within his rational mind that this was only the beginning. He could barely think, though, his mind consumed with the pleasure that Apollo was lavishing him with. Fire raced through his body, his whole mind centered on the moist heat that was wrapped around his erect cock, and the fingers subtly stretching the tight muscles of his entrance, stroking something within him that caused him to jerk and writhe and gasp helplessly every time it was touched.

He barely even noticed when a third long finger was added, stretching him further and driving him to the delicious brink of almost too much. Apollo's fingers twisted exquisitely inside of him, driving out any other outside thoughts, and when they were abruptly removed, along with the warm hand on his length.

At the loss, L's eyes flew open in despair and his fingers clutched at the cushions, about to push himself up and mindlessly chase after that pleasure, when a firm, but gentle hand pressed against his shoulder, pushing him back down. He gazed up and found Apollo looming over him, kneeling between his thighs. L opened his mouth, about to question something, anything, find some semblance of sanity, but all that escaped his lips in the next moment was an instinct cry as Apollo moved.

"Ah!" L cried out sharply as something hot and thick pressed against his entrance, slowly pushing in. It spread him open slowly, sliding slowly and arousingly into him, and over sensitive inner skin. His fingers clothed tightly, desperately at the cushions his body was cradled in, toes curling unconsciously as Apollo's thick length sunk deeper into him inch by painstaking inch. He stared unseeingly into Apollo's glittering eyes, face open and unshielded in the wake of such intimacy. Everything that L was feeling was displayed openly on his face, unable to be wiped off in the wake of such never-before-felt feelings.

It was almost unbearable, almost too much for him to take, but as Apollo's breath hitched and his hips pressed snugly against L's inner thighs, the Oracle knew that the sun god was fully seated within him. Apollo's breath was warm against his neck, silky hair dragging along his face and causing it to tingle as the god dipped his head to press soft, gentle kisses over his left shoulder and collarbone.

There was an ambient heat radiating within him, coming off of the thick length resting snugly within him. Warm hands slid up from his thighs to trace delicate patterns over his pale skin, brushing gently over his nipples and causing L to shudder as sparks shot down his spine at the touch. It was enough to make L's breath come out in shaky gasps as he waited tensely and in anticipation for Apollo to start moving.

When nothing happened, however, L's black eyes slowly slid open in confusion, fixing on Apollo's lovely face, hovering just a few scant inches from his own. "Are you alright?" Apollo whispered huskily, golden eyes scanning L's face for any nuance of discomfort or pleasure. Shivers ran down L's spine at the intenseness of the god's gaze, and his breath hitched as Apollo shifted slightly, the movement making the thick erection within him press a little deeper, brushing just lightly over something that made him want to jerk in pleasure.

Past the point of L gave a shaky nod, and he unconsciously clenched around the shaft within him. Apollo's fingers spasmed at the sudden constriction of tight, hot heat around him, and it took all of his willpower to simply not take the Oracle as hard and roughly as he had been desiring to for so long. Instead, he sucked in a sharp breath, gave a long, shaky sigh and tentatively pulled out a bit before rocking smoothly and firmly back into L's waiting body.

L gasped, eyes flying open as even that small thrust stroked over his prostrate, sending blinding pleasure shooting through him. He threw his head back upon the pillows cushioning the dais, and barely heard Apollo's soft laugh as the sun god repeated his actions once more, thrusting in longer, smoother strokes, striking L's prostrate each time.

The cry that fell from L's lips as Apollo lavished such pleasure upon him only spurred the god to greeter heights, burning golden eyes narrowing in lust as he braced his left elbow upon the cushions, so that he could twine his other hand in L's silky, feathery hair.

"You please me, my Oracle," Apollo whispered into his ear. The thick, hot length was still sliding in and out of his body so exquisitely, making it hard for him to actively listen to the words Apollo was murmuring to him. His nerves felt as if they were being consumed by hot fire, blood singing through his veins in rapture as Apollo caressed his skin, hot flesh stroking over him both inside of his body and outside.

"You please me in so many ways…" he sighed softly, delightedly, a small smile gracing lovely, gilded features, making his molten amber eyes, the color of afternoon sun, sparkle in gratification. "I shall give you a gift, for there has been no other Oracle in my history that has delighted me so much as you," Apollo murmured hotly into his ear, hand sliding from his hair to his forehead.

Through the pleasure hazing his senses, L could dimly feel the print of a scalding-hot thumb press against the middle of his forehead. The added contact only made him moan, arching up to sensually rub himself against Apollo's hot body. His chest slid sickly against the sun-god's, thighs squeezing tightly around Apollo's waist as L allowed the god to pleasure him, to do as he willed, whether it involved altering his Sight or taking his body.

"I shall give you the gift of True Sight, my Oracle. Hone its powers and use them to your advantage against those with impure intentions, for there may be others who wish to have you, and I will not allow that," he growled at the end, marking his claim by thrusting into L's body faster and more harshly, making L cry out in mixed pain and ecstasy, toes curling in erotic delight against the hot flesh of the sun-god's back. "You are mine, and mine alone- always remember that, my Oracle. My L."

L had no coherent reply to that. The words, however, seared themselves into L's brain and he moaned at the burning possessiveness that ignited Apollo's voice. To be claimed by Apollo, by his god, was overwhelmingly arousing and he surrendered completely to the god above him, slipping his arms around the hot body, digging his fingers into Apollo's back and proffering his lips up to his deity, who claimed them with no hesitation. Silky lips caressed his with devotion, as if Apollo were the one lavishing him with worship and devotion rather than the other way around.

But L could not find a protest to such a thing, for the way Apollo's hands roamed his skin, hot like pleasurable brands smoothing over his body, was like nothing he had ever felt before. The way Apollo's hot length thrust into him, silken flesh caressing his sensitive inner walls, stroking and brushing over his prostate over and over again drove all rational thought away, leaving him only with a burning, aching need for more.

Long, pale fingers grasped desperately at Apollo, at any inch of flesh that he could reach, trying to get closer to the god that had claimed him for his own. Enfolded in the sun-god's strong arms, the smell of sun and musk rising from his skin was making his mind go completely blank and heat spark in his stomach, arousal and pleasure churning through his veins.

Enfolded in the sun god's strong arms, his solid, lean body pressed against L's own, hot skin to hot skin, was one of the best things L had ever felt. His sensitive erection was brushing against the firm plane of Apollo's abdomen with every thrust of strong hips, making him moan and bury his face against a warm, sweaty shoulder.

Heat was rising in his stomach, growing hotter and hotter as Apollo kept moving within him, thrusting roughly, yet somehow gently at the same time, pushing him to the absolute brink, and yet never giving L more than he thought he could take. It was all so perfect, better than L could have ever imagined. The thick length inside of him kept relentlessly stroking across his prostrate, and that combined with the friction on his erection made him gasp desperately for breath, attempting to retain his control over himself and his mind.

Apollo must have sensed this, however, for his pace slowed down, making L's eyes snap open in despair, fearing that Apollo was stopping. "No!" L gasped, obsidian eyes wide, desperation flitting within them as he feared that this pleasure that Apollo was giving him was soon coming to an end. "Don't stop!"

The sun god did not stop, though he gave a small smile at L's words, shaking his head slightly as he murmured, "How could I ever want to stop?" Apollo kept thrusting into the hot tightness of L's body, pushing himself up just a little bit so that he could cup L's cheek and stare into hazy, pleasured obsidian eyes.

However, there was a spark of uncertainty in those eyes, one that Apollo knew was born out of a fear of a loss of control. But, Apollo wanted to see that loss of control, the moment when L snapped and finally gave himself over to mindless pleasure for the first time in his short life. He wanted to bestow this boy with a pleasure so unforgettable that he would never be able to belong to any being save for Apollo. Wanted to burn out any thought of any other mortal or god, and leave nothing but the blazing, searing hotness of the sun in the boy's mind.

The thought made him let out a throaty growl, and he gathered L closer to him, resuming his hard, rough thrusting into the delectable body beneath him. L was so tight and hot around him, muscles clenching sweetly, and for a split second, Apollo feared that it would be his mind that would be burnt out, not L's.

For never in his eternity of a lifetime had he ever felt something like this. Never before had the embrace of a mortal had this much of an effect on him, physically or emotionally. And because of this, the Oracle's fate was sealed, for he would never allow L to fall into the hands of another being, whether it be mortal or god.

The thought made him let out a throaty growl, and he gathered L into his arms, burying his face in silky black hair as his thrusting resumed an almost frantic pace. L's mouth was right next to his ear, allowing him to clearly hear the arousing cries and gasps that spilled from his Oracle's lips with perfect clarity. And yet, it was not those sounds that made Apollo's eyes open wide in shock, but the sound of his name shakily being breathed into his ear, spilling like a mantra from L's reddened lips.

It was almost maddening, the knowledge that L could not possibly be thinking about anyone or anything else other than him, than the act that was taking place at that moment. L was writhing beneath him, and Apollo could feel hot, sticky flesh rubbing against the skin of his stomach. It throbbed, hard and solid, letting Apollo know that L was so close, so very close to release.

"Come on, L," Apollo urged, golden eyes glittering as he moved within L, making no attempt to be gentle as he had previously been. L was too far gone to register any pain, and L's back arched beautifully under this new pace, crying out as Apollo's long length repeatedly stroked harshly and arousingly over his prostrate. "Let yourself go."

He dipped his head to capture L's lips in a kiss, but the Oracle's head turned away at the last second, fingers clenching tightly on Apollo's shoulders.

"I can't," L gasped, eyes slipping shut. His lower lip caught in his teeth, and he bit back a gasp as his prostrate was once again stroked over, making him spasm and tense in Apollo's arms. Something was coming, a completion to this act, and it terrified him like nothing else ever had. He didn't want to surrender control, to lose himself on the arms of this god, and it made him struggle futility against the sun god, long, plea fingers digging into golden skin and head whipping back and forth upon the cushions in halfhearted denial as he tried to push down the rising wave of heat and pleasure that threatened to crest within him.

Soft fingertips brushed over L's face, coaxing black eyes to flutter open, revealing the mixed lust and panic welling within the deep pools of obsidian.

"Let go," Apollo whispered against L's lips, golden eyes shimmering like coins within the sun god's beautiful face. "Let go, L," he breathed fervently, thrusting harshly into L's willing body, "and I shall catch you when you fall."

Apollo's last thrust stuck L's prostate directly, and pure shock of pleasure it sent through his body, every muscle in his body tensing for a delicious, anticipatory moment before the coil winding within his groin snapped, making his body arch and his fingers to scrabble desperately at Apollo's smooth skin.

Pleasure raced like a tidal wave through him, singing through his veins and burning fiery trials all over his skin. Unable to control himself, his fingers dug into the hot, golden skin of Apollo's back, and his legs cinched tightly about Apollo's waist, pulling the feverish-hot body of the god closer as he cried out. His inner muscles constricted around Apollo's still-moving length, drawing it in tighter and deeper within his body, the relentless pressure on his prostrate driving his pleasure to new heights.

L dimly heard the long moan that issued forth from Apollo in the form of his name, lost as he was in the pleasure that consumed him. He was clutched tightly to Apollo's body, long, muscular arms wrapping around his lithe body and returning the embrace L had pulled him into. Silky hair dragged over the sweaty skin of his face as Apollo buried his face into L's neck. Warm breath washed over the sensitive skin as the sun god gasped heavily into soft skin, thrusting one last time into L's body. Liquid warmth filled him and L moaned, gasping as Apollo fell still and settled upon L's body, hot skin pressing together in every place it could.

A warm, humid heat emanated from Apollo's skin that incited a languidness to pervade L's body, still tingling from the intense pleasure that had consumed him not even moments before. With a small jolt, he realized that he was still wrapped up in the god's embrace. It was hard to tell where he began and Apollo ended, they were so entwined.

In another time, or place, this might have bothered L to the point of squirming, but all things considering… the feeling of soft comfort and safe, godly arms wrapped around him imbued him with a contentedness and peace that he had ever scarcely felt in his life.

But still… even though his mind urged him to accept this and relax into the body that still caged him so thoroughly, there was something within him that could simply not.

Fighting back against the tiredness that threatened to push him into unconsciousness, L slowly lifted heavy eyelids, immediately meeting golden eyes that held a myriad of turbulent emotions. Apollo's lovely face was intense as his gaze scanned over L's face, and it made his heart skip a beat as Apollo slowly lifted a hand from his torso to gently push back some stray black strands that had fallen into his eyes. The god leant down so their faces were but inches apart, lips parting.

"Mine," Apollo whispered. L's black eyes were hazy and tired, mind and body exhausted in the aftermath of Apollo's affections, but they still held the god's warm gaze. They widened at the possessive claim, however, shock flitting through them, for out of all the things that he had thought the god would say in such a position, that was the last thing he had expected.

Silky hair caressed L's cheeks as Apollo bent his head to rest his own hot, sweaty forehead against L's own, staring directly into the Oracle's eyes. The scent rising off of the god's skin was musky and almost spicy, only making it that much harder for L to concentrate on what Apollo was saying.

His whole body still tingled pleasantly, especially where they were still connected, and a languid air settled over him, along with an overwhelming desire to sleep. It was hard to concentrate, but as Apollo's warm breath fanned over his cheeks, his soft voice reaching his ears, he could not help but hear that gently-spoken claim.

And it was undeniable. He had been chosen specifically by Apollo, perhaps not for this specifically, but out of all the mortals in Troy- in the whole world- it was him that had been hand-picked by the god. He had been Apollo's ever since birth, when the golden sun had been placed onto his leg by the god himself.

Apollo's claim was something he had been denying his whole life, but as the god had placed his thumb upon his brow, imbuing L with the gift of True Sight, he had also become aware of all of the god's thoughts and feelings directed towards him, born after years of secretly watching and observing. The strong emotions of desire, affection, and something akin to what mortals would dub as love had filtered from the god to him, and L could no longer deny the claim that Apollo had over him.

It was something inexplicable but solid, something that he knew, could feel and reciprocate. Apollo had always been there, secretly, watching over him. When he retired to his chambers to sleep at the end of the night, it was Apollo that watched over him to make sure no harm would come to him while he slumbered, healing the physical wounds that he had garnered from frustrated and angry priests during the day and aching to heal the emotional ones inflicted upon the young Oracle as well.

Always, always, had Apollo been there, watching and wanting. Apollo had always been protecting him in one form or another, dedicated to him as no other had ever been.

…And with this in mind, it was with a mixed sense of relief and joy that L sighed, his body going limp and plaint upon the cushions , and finally breathed out, right before his eyelids slipped shut and he fell into slumber, "Yours."

Gently, hot fingertips smoothed over L's flushed cheeks, feeling the swipe of black eyelashes against his skin. Sex was not always something he indulged with Oracles, contrary to what mortals liked to believe. It was his chosen task to choose the best Oracle from the Threads of Fate, which foretold the past, present, and future. Looking through the threads for a child whose future self would be all that was desired in an Oracle was an arduous task, one that he dreaded each time one of his Oracles passed.

When an Oracle's time was drawing to a close, it was his task to return to the Threads, so that a future Oracle would be ready when the time came. After all, it would not do for the gods to not have a mortal that could speak their words…

Apollo's eyes narrowed in thought, and his gaze roved over the L's peaceful face, relaxed in slumber. His thoughts whirled in his mind, calculating and trying to see a way that he could make this work.

Admittedly, his relationship with Zeus was not… good. Too many eons of whimsical promiscuity and playing frivolously with the fragile mentality and physicality of humans left a sour taste in Apollo's mouth for the leader of the gods. He resented the high-handed hypocrisy that Zeus practiced upon a daily basis, that he was allowed to break the rules he himself had made.

There was not much that Apollo could do, however. But this was one of them. His task was to choose a babe that was foreseen to be docile, intelligent human, one that could handle the mental strain of dealing with the gods and the visions they conjured.

This time… instead, he had scoured the Threads of Fate for a child that would be different.

And as soon as his eyes had landed upon L, he had known. And he had not been disappointed.

L was like nothing of the Oracles that he had chosen before. He was intelligent, brilliant beyond belief, possessing a cunning slyness and rebellious nature that was similar to Apollo's own. It was an Oracle that he would be proud to call his own, an Oracle that would be his in the future, one day. It was foreseen in the threads that he would be the Oracle's god, as much as the Oracle would be his.

Perhaps if he had not known this outcome, he would have tried to resist the boy and simply remained a silent protector, an unknown champion. But in the threads, he saw the boy's body and soul becoming wholly and completely his, and from that moment on, he was lost. He knew the future, and so he simply faded into the background, watching L as he grew up, secretly protecting him and healing him, whispering promises and prophecies of bright futures in his ears while he slumbered, feeding him hope when L sank into black despair. He had foreseen that this Oracle would be different, an Oracle that was going to be strong and break the cycle of subjugated seers, and so in secret, Apollo nurtured him into what he was to become.

This Oracle would be the one to resist other gods' sexual advances and show them that an Oracle was more than a plaything, that humans were worth more than being chattels and toys to be tossed aside once they had outlived the span of their usefulness.

The sound of leather sandals on marble floor caught his attention, breaking him out of his hopeful thoughts, and Apollo looked over his shoulder to see the Head Priest cautiously approaching the dais. It was then that he knew his time with the Oracle was up, and that the message that he had to convey must be heard.

He knew that it was against the express wishes of Zeus to give such a warning, to attempt to defy Fate itself, but Zeus had pushed him to this. Prophecies and foretellings fell under the authority of Apollo, and he himself had made most of the gods' rules pertaining to the knowledge humans had of the future. It was in Troy's fate to fall, and his message was interfering with that preordained fall.

He was going against the laws he himself had made, as Zeus so often did. If Zeus was not inclined to follow the rules that he himself had made, then Apollo would not either.

He could only hope that there would be a point made today, and that his actions would drive home Zeus' own defiance of his rules.

And, as he looked down upon L's unconscious visage, he desperately hoped that this would not come back to harm his Oracle in any way. For this Oracle… he truly was magnificent. Years of harsh training and oppression by those who lived and worked in the temple had done nothing to dim nor break his indomitable will, and such spirit brought a joy to Apollo's heart.

He slipped from atop L's body, making sure to ruffle the soft, pure-white cotton of his Oracle's discarded robes, so that the priests may know that he was still present. It certainly worked, for the man that he knew to be Head Priest's footsteps faltered for just a brief moment before they resume, coming closer to the dais.

Apollo's feet slipped from the dais to the marble floor, and he stood, looking down onto L, taking in the sight of the Oracle's body for a brief, sweet moment, knowing that in the wake of Zeus' wrath over his actions, this might be the last time be saw the Oracle for some time. But, he vowed, as his eyes traveled over the expanse of pale, flushed skin, that it would not be the last time.

Gently, he leaned over L's body, hot fingertips tracing a sharp cheekbone, fingers of his other hand trailing through mussed, feathery-soft spikes of ink-black hair. Softly, he placed his lips at L's ear, and breathed the timeless words that would allow him to speak through the one that was his Oracle.

"Let me speak through you, Oracle. Be my lips, my mouth and voice and carry my words to those I would have hear them…"

"Oracle?" The High Priest stepped forwards cautiously, eyes raking over the still, sweaty body of the boy in front of him. To have a god touch an Oracle so… it had never happened in his lifetime, and the sight of the boy writhing in pleasure under a being that only the Oracle could see and feel had been a fascinating, mystical sight. To be touched by a god so was a great honor, and that it had happened to the Oracle that was under his care…

As he reached the boy's side, he leant over the boy, though he dared not touch him, the awe of this Oracle being so god-touched making him reluctant to touch the boy's god-caressed skin. Instead, he gently called the boy's name, one of the first times he had addressed the Oracle by his self-given name of "L" and not his title.

Upon the calling of this name, the boy's eyes snapped open and locked on him, black eyes slowly bleeding to pure, shimmering orbs of gold. The boy's reddened lips parted, and the priest leant down until his hear was at mouth-level, ears straining to hear Apollo's words.

"Hard times, war times are coming for Troy," the boy whispered, and with certainty, the priest knew that it was not the Oracle speaking, but Apollo, through the Oracle. He dared not question what the god meant, instead staring right at the god in human form, showing that he was listening.

"Many will die, and because of the people's foolishness, Troy will fall," L whispered, in a voice that rang with two voices- that of his own quiet, husky one, and another that was unable to be placed, one that belonged to the god himself.

"Beware the thing that this city is famous for," L-Apollo hissed. "Fame shall be Troy's downfall, and the fall shall be coming soon."

L did not often dream. When he did, however, they were often of hazy futures and pasts of all the people he had ever seen. They were never like this, simple and clear, with no murmured voices clamoring to be heard, images longing to be seen and spoken. His dreams were always a confusing conglomeration of the past and future that often left his mind more exhausted than rested in the early morning, when his day began.

Here, there was nothing but the metallic smell of sun and spicy-sweet scent of cinnamon and musk. Golden light surrounded him, a warm breeze ruffling his hair gently, swirling about his fingers and washing over his body in a soft caress.

A familiar, melodic voice whispered in his ear, and though he could not see in the golden light, he knew that there was someone there, standing behind him. He knew instinctively not to look behind him, as much as he desired to.

"My Oracle," Apollo's voice breathed, eliciting sparks of desire that danced within his stomach upon the warm breath that washed over the back of his naked, bared neck. He wanted so badly to turn and embrace his god, but there was something within that voice that curbed his desire to do so and incited him to listen, instead.

And listen he did, standing perfectly still as Apollo seemed to take a deep breath, before beginning to speak.

"I cannot profess that I understand you or your unhappiness. But mortals have always been unpredictable and intriguing, and you…"Apollo paused here, a breathy chuckle escaping his lips before he continued. "You are even more so. I scoured through the Threads of Fate for a new Oracle, and that you would grow to be… so fiery and clever and cunning, yet so lovely…"

Apollo trailed off, and hot, familiar fingers settled upon the sides of his waist tenderly. L breathed in, holding still, and Apollo sighed as he whispered, "I wished to keep you. This is understandable to mortals, is it not? The desire to possess and keep things that they adore?"

L nodded slightly, and Apollo's grip upon him tightened momentarily, before his fingers relaxed, and L felt a weight settle upon his shoulder. A little bit of a shock went through him as he realized that it was Apollo's forehead that was resting upon his shoulder, and the god's body was trembling behind him, shaking. He tried to turn, but Apollo's fingers constricted around his waist, holding the Oracle in place and preventing him from turning and seeing him.

With that, L stopped trying to move, and simply let Apollo stand there for a moment, before the sun god gave a shaky sigh and warm arms wrapped tenderly around his chest, pulling him flush against the god's body. He felt hot skin against his own, the god's nude body pressed firmly against his own, but it was not arousing in any way. Something was wrong with Apollo, and L felt dread begin to curl in his stomach, for this somehow felt final, as if it were a form of goodbye.

Apollo's head raised from his shoulder, and lips brushed over the delicate shell of his ear. L listened keenly as Apollo once more began to speak, almost inaudibly. "And yet… I find… that through my time of delving into the mortal world throughout my whole existence… a saying comes to mind, my Oracle, that one must sometimes let things free if they wish to keep them. It was rather bemusing and puzzling when I first heard it, but now… I understand."

Apollo sighed into his ear, and he told L, "As much as I desire to keep you within the confines of my mortal home, your unhappiness brings me great pain."

"My Oracle," he continued, melodic voice fervent and earnest, "you were never one to be caged. You were meant to be free, to roam the earth unhindered, and… I understand. You and I are more alike than I could have ever imagined. And this both gladdens and pains me, for it has brought me to a better understanding of your nature, and yet, because of this… I know that I can never keep you as I so long to."

Something within Apollo's voice broke at that last sentence, and one hand moved from his chest to his shoulder, stroking the soft skin there as he whispered, "I will enquire after your freedom and do the best I can- you will be freed, and if another shall take your place… for now, only the Fates know the outcome. You will have your freedom one way or another, my Oracle, this I swear."

"But…"L's breath hitched softly as Apollo's fingers trailed up his neck, stroking along the line of his jawbone as they continued up-

"I only ask, Oracle…"

Hot, gentle fingertips stroked his cheek, pushing softly to turn L's head to the side, and achingly familiar lips brushed against the sharp line of his cheekbone, just barely meeting the corner of his lips-

"Is that you never forget whose Oracle you are."

Fiery, sensual lips met L's own in an achingly sweet kiss, chaste and brief, yet communicating all that Apollo could never express with words, and then-

Apollo was gone, and L was wide awake, gasping loudly into the circular, stone-walled rooms of his chambers. His silk sheets fisted agitatedly in his hands as he raised himself to a sitting position, large black eyes flitting around the room, seeking out a figure that he knew would not be there.

But there was nothing.

He was alone, with only the fading memory of the sun god's embrace and soft, warm lips upon his own.

L would have never guessed that his struggles in the time he was brought to the Speaking Chamber would have following consequences. He would have never guessed the Head Priest to become so fervently angry, as much as he was now, just because he had dared to argue with Apollo and insult his words, during his time yesterday in the Speaking Room.

"Do you know how you've dishonored this temple?"

A sharp slap landed on L's face, snapping his head to the side. His large black eyes snapped shut in reflex, though he bit his lip to keep in the sharp, breathy exhale of breath that accompanied the sudden blow.

The Head Priest was silent after the question and subsequent slap. L's cheek stung, and he knew that the priest's large, ornate rings had no doubt caused a series of indentations to form upon the smooth skin of his cheek. It would blossom into a large red mark, though L knew that it would not bruise. He would have to be hit somewhat harder than that to garner a more lingering mark- experience told him so.

But the silence unnerved L, and against his own misgivings, he slowly turned his head back, rasising it to meet the Head Priest's furious grey eyes. They were small and squinty in a rather fleshy, pale face, soft from years of being mired in the pits of sodden luxury. L stared back blankly into the Head Priest's eyes, face and eyes stoic and unreadable, his emotions carefully hidden under a mask that had taken years to perfect.

He held the priest's eyes for but a few seconds, letting the silence mixed with his emotionlessness dirve the Head Priest's rage up another notch. This time, L was expecting the sharp blow, though it prepared him no better for the sudden sting of flesh upon flesh and the digging of hard stone from the Head Priest's rings into his soft skin.

"Do you know how you have dishonored our god?"

The question that followed it, however, made L's mask slip for but a second, a satisfied flash streaking through his black eyes a second before they closed in pain. Head bowed low and turned away from he gathering of priests come to watch the Oracle's latest disciplinarian session, he allowed his shaggy jags of ink-black bangs to hide his face, which had given way to a small smirk.

He heard the Head Priest's sandals upon the cool marble floors where he knelt in golden chains, turning away from him, no doubt to fix his composure before he faced the wayward Oracle once more.

"My god," L whispered, eyes snapping open and flicking up to see the large form of the Head Priest freeze for but a moment before he whirled around. Small grey eyes narrowed as he stared down upon L's kneeling form, thinking he heard the Oracle's breathed words incorrectly.

"What?" the Head Priest asked softly, dangerously. Talking back was one thing that was not allowed within his temple- it was one of the first things pounded into the street urchin of an Oracle's thick skull from the beginning of his time here.

A small, amused exhale of breath slipped from between L's pale lips- even now, the Head Priest thought he had a modicum of power. It was amusing, the delusion the priest still fostered. He may run this temple, but L had the favor of the gods, of the god that had claimed him from birth and was now his, as much as he was irrevocably Apollo's.

This acknowledgement both pained L, and caused an unmistakable sense of euphoria to rise within his heart. His very heart and mind, his will that refused to be caged, rebelled upon such a blatant stake of claim upon his person by Apollo. Yet, to truly acknowledge the claim, in a clear, sane mind without the haze of sex affecting him, brought a sense of freedom settling within his being, sinking into his core. Apollo had promised him his freedom from the cage he was trapped in now, and to allow another to claim all of him, to know that no one else would ever have him, to be secure in that knowledge… it was as empowering as it was frightening, and yet, L had no qualms.

If the price of freedom was his surrendering of self to Apollo, then so be it. It was but a small price, and Apollo had more than proved himself worthy, in every way. If he were to be owned, as one such as him always would be, he would rather be a god's than a thousand grasping mortals. Better one person have him than the greedy denizens of Troy.

He forsook them all, as they had forsaken him in his time of need, when L was but a small child. Apollo was the only one who had proven loyal, empathetic to his plight, had been the only one to show him love and kindness in a world where there had never been any. Apollo had been the one to choose him as his own when he was not even yet conceived, to wait and watch and protect until Apollo could finally claim him for his own.

He was the only Oracle, the only full-blooded mortal that Apollo had touched, and that this pathetic man in front of him sought to lay a claim to Apollo as well made his lips curl in the barest mockery of a smile. L met the Head Priest's eyes straight-on, no longer hiding the open mockery of the older man that lurked within his obsidian gaze. "He is my god," L whispered, black eyes flashing darkly. "He has promised me freedom, and when it comes…"

Here L chuckled, an irrefutably knowing sound laced with foreboding as he murmured, "You shall be the first to know of a caged tiger's wrath."

The Head Priest would be the last to admit that such words sent a chill down his spine. Try as he might, he could not shake the absolute certainty within the Oracle's husky voice, bearing no trace of the false tones that rang within the boy's words whenever he spoke untruthfully. Yet, he could not allow himself to seem weak or cowed before the Oracle. He was the one in control, and the Oracle had to know it, had to know that his words had no effect. "Speaking false prophecies gets you nowhere, Oracle!" the Head Priest spat, skin of his fleshy face darkening into a deep red color in his anger.

L's eyes opened wide in shock at the denial of his words. However, he never broke eye contact with his enemy as he said, "Listen to my voice." His black eyes narrowed, and in a quieter voice, he hissed, "Open your blubbery ears for the first time in your worthless life, and you shall know that I speak only the truth."

The insult only added fuel to the fire of the Head Priest's anger, and livid now, he approached the defiant Oracle, finding that the fearless, bold look upon his detestably perfect, pale features only angered him more. His grey eyes darkened in fury as he rose his arm, hand readying to deliver a harsh, rebuking slap upon that face-

A warm breeze suddenly swept through the darkened, chilled room of the temple, freezing all within the vicinity. The Head Priest's hand froze mid-strike and grey eyes widened in shock, for such a breeze was unnatural in the enclosed temple rooms, and knew it could only mean one thing.

Apollo was present.

Forgotten in lieu of the god's presence that had suddenly made itself known, the Head Priest turned away from L, barking out orders for the guards to get out, and for the other priests to watch the Oracle and make sure that he did nothing stupid while the Head Priest readied the room to properly prepare the room to receive Apollo.

My Oracle.

The warm, sultry, familiar voice whispered into L's ears, and subtly, so that the watching priests could not see, L tilted his head, closing his eyes in order to better hear and concentrate on the voice.

Zeus is most displeased with my actions and feelings towards you… I regret nothing, and my lack of remorse has led to my banishment for 20 years to the mortal realm. He wishes for me to experience life as a mortal, as punishment for my compromising feelings towards one.

Panic seized in L's heart- Apollo, his god, his deity, gone? 20 years until he would see him once more?

Sh… A faint tendril of warm breeze caressed L's cheek soothingly and he leaned into it, reveling in the touch of his god, however remote and distant it might be. Do not panic.

I will come for you, my Oracle. In the vision of Light, I will find you. See my coming and wait for me.

Farewell, My Oracle.

The wind-carried words caressed his cheek in a gust of a warm, cinnamon-scented breeze, and for a brief second, the world fell away. His eyes fluttered closed, and his heart trembled as a series of images came to his mind, fragments of sentences and above all, the knowledge and absolute certainty that what he was seeing would come to pass.

The room was made all of grey and white marble, circular in shape, with a single raised dais made of pure white marble with golden inlay. It was a lovely room by itself, if not sparse for lack of furnishings, but it was what was on top of the dais that took Light's breath away and sent a few of the more god-fearing Myrmidons to their knees behind him.

White, gold, and black were the colors that registered first in Light's mind, and then, as his stunned brain resumed its processes, he was able to take everything in. A man close to his age knelt upon the dais, slim body dressed in dazzlingly white robes. His arms were stretched out to the sides, manacles of gold-gilded steel encircling slim wrists and chains of the same metal stretching them taut, bolted to the wall. His head was bowed, jagged spikes of black, flyaway hair falling to his shoulders and across the sheer gold blindfold obscuring his eyes from view.

It was a sight that Light had only ever heard of- Apollo's Oracle. It was whispered that he was the most favored of all in the history of Oracles, his visions clear and able to foresee any event that he wished, without having to be induced into a vision. He was rumored to be a true seer, favored heavily by Apollo in his gift -a constant stream of future foretellings and past truths flooding into his mind. Unable to misspeak a telling of the past or future without the falsity being blindingly obvious in his voice, the Oracle was the shining jewel of the city of Troy.

But Light had never imagined that the Oracle would be here, in one of the more exposed temples. It had been a simple matter to invade and ransack the temple- so very simple, really. There were numerous temples to Apollo inside of the city- why leave such a precious thing so vulnerable?

"You've come."

A low, husky voice reached Light's ears, and he stiffened as it tore him from his thoughts, amber eyes flicking to the Oracle just in time to see his head rise, sensing knowing eyes upon him even though he could not see them through the blindfold.

Mind racing, Light could hardly process the situation, that he was speaking to the Oracle, the speaker and blessed of Apollo. It was… impossible. Improbable. But though he was a warrior, Light did not lack brains- he was extremely intelligent, which was why he was valued as Achilles' battle strategist and a fearsome foe in battle. And his blinding intelligence came into play now, allowing Light to shake off his shock and analyze the situation thoroughly.

"Oracle…" Light breathed, fingers clenching tightly around the grip of his sword, which was still held at ready position. A silent thrill of fear went through Light suddenly, realizing just who he and the Myrmidons had intruded upon, whose temple they had invaded. Biting back a curse, Light quickly slid his sword home and dropped to his knees, hand twisting to place over his heart in a gesture of honor.

"Oracle," he said quietly and fervently. "We did not realize…" Light trailed off, unable to find the words to adequately express his regret, and he cursed his sudden lack of eloquence. A muted series of mumbles behind him were added apologies by the other men, he realized.

While Achilles may not have feared the wrath of gods, being invincible and loved by Athena and Ares, Light and the others were not. They were still human and as such, still feared the gods. As the Oracle was the flesh extension of those gods, the mortal seer was to be greatly feared as well. The ability to see past truths and future forecomings was a powerful weapon, and one that was not to be taken lightly. With the right information and cleverly crafted words, the knowledge of future misfortunes could bring a person to ruin, either physically, emotionally, or mentally.

This Light and the others knew, and as such, the Oracle inspired a deep sense of fear within them, perhaps more so than the gods because the Oracle was here. He was physically here, in flesh, in front of them and in existence, while the gods could sometimes seem to be more of an idea or belief than an actual entity.

The Oracle seemed to not be angry; instead, he shook his head, tendrils of black, feathery hair running over his face. "Do not apologize. I have been expecting you," he told Light, his voice echoing around the room, amplified by the circular build of the room- something done intentionally to make the soft, deep voice seem louder, Light realized.

"You were expecting me?" Light asked cautiously, looking up in surprise.

The Oracle nodded, black hair swaying with the motions, brushing over his face. "Indeed. I am the Oracle, as you must know. I foresaw your coming 6 years ago." The Oracle paused, head tilting to the side, and Light could have sworn he saw the hint of a smirk tugging at pale lips. "And you bumbling warriors are quite loud, traipsing throughout my temple in your rattling armor. If I had not known you were coming before, I would have known the moment you set foot in here…"

"How… you saw me coming?" Light asked, taken aback.

"Indeed. I foresaw that you would be the one to set me free…" The Oracle trailed off, tiling his head to the side. Chains rattled with the movement as he shifted slightly to relieve some of the pressure being put upon his knees and arms- Light could only imagine how horribly uncomfortable the position had to be. "That you would finally come for me, after all this time. The vision of Light…." The last few words were whispered so softly that Light had to strain his ears to catch them, and an odd thrill went through him at them.

It was almost as if he had heard them spoken before.

"Will you?" the Oracle asked after a few moments. "Will you be the one to free me?"

Taken aback at such a blunt statement, Light's eyes widened in shock, surprise flitting through amber depths. "But… that is… Apollo would be-" he forced out, unsure of how to respond. To refuse the Oracle would no doubt make the seer angry, and in doing so, he feared making Apollo angry as well. But at the same time, to agree to such a thing, to free the Oracle from his chains and take the man with him…that could also incur the god's wrath.

A small, almost secretive smile tugged at the Oracle's lips as he said, "Surely, Apollo would not be angry if you were to help his Oracle regain his freedom?"

Blinking, Light took in the chains, the way the Oracle's muscles were stretched taut, the way his thighs were trembling in the effort of holding himself up for such a continued length of time.

He then looked back to his men and was met by a slew of neutral stares- whatever he did, the men would agree with. They knew Light would figure the best way to deal with the situation they had put themselves in- they trusted Light with their lives.

Turning away, Light slowly rose to his feet, gilded armor clanking softly as he did so. Removing his helmet, he set it aside- for his hair was sticking to his neck and scalp most uncomfortably, and he expected no attacks from he bound Oracle who wanted Light to free him. "I… suppose…" Light said hesitantly, hand raising to rest upon the hilt of his sheathed sword.

The Oracle's smile grew larger upon seeing Light's hesitant acquiescence, and he leaned back, cajoling, persuading, "And I would make a most marvelous treasure, would I not? An Oracle by your side… if you take me with you, it will bring you nothing but glory, I assure you," the Oracle told him.

The words, while Light knew them to be deliberately persuasive, designed to make Light do what the Oracle wanted, were still wholly attractive. Images of how much of an impact it would be to walk out of Apollo's temple with the Oracle- the Oracle- at his side flashed through his mind, tempting and tantalizing. Such a thing would bring much glory…

That image and thought was the last threshold for Light, and coming to a firm decision within his mind, Light drew his sword and stepped to the dais, assessing the chains with a critical eye. There was the slightest bit of uneasy murmuring behind him from his men- after all, it was a daring thing, to remove the Oracle from his temple, even if the seer had given Light his permission and asked him to do such a thing. Light ignored it, however, tapping a long, tanned finger against the hilt of his sword as he thought of the best way to break the chains binding the Oracle to his temple.

"Ah, good," the Oracle nodded upon sensing Light move closer it him, shifting a bit upon his dais. The robes fell open the slightest bit as he did so, and when Light drew closer, he could see a flash of golden-colored skin upon the inside of the Oracle's right thigh. The sight of such a revered and feared mark made Light's eyes open wide in shock, before he tore his eyes away from the sight of the famous sun-shaped mark. "You are setting me free. I am most grateful."

"Setting you free?" Light asked, pausing with one foot upon the first step of the dais. The Oracle… he foresaw this. He knew that Light would free him, and to have his future apparently planned out and seen by the man in front of him was a frightening thought.

"Well, yes," the Oracle replied, head tilting down to look at Light through the blindfold. He was barely able to move his shoulders, Light saw, but he rattled the chains restraining his arms a bit, as if for emphasis. "These chains are here for a reason."

A morose sigh was heaved from the Oracle, and then he continued, "They chained me up for my own safety, they said." He snorted mockingly. "More like their own safety…"

"And the blindfold?" Light enquired as he palmed the hilt of his sword in thought, unable to help his curiosity. It was the Oracle, after all, and to be near such a powerful, god- touched creature was mesmerizing.

Can the Oracle see my future? Light wondered fleetingly. If he saw me coming six years ago… who's to say that he cannot see any of my future movements as well? Even as that thought flashed through his mind, he felt a cold chill run up his spine. This… this is why so many people fear the Oracle, he realized. To know someone can see your future, know what will happen to you leaves you very exposed and vulnerable.

The Oracle smirked, as if he sensed Light's unease, then flicked his head to the side to sweep his jagged, ink- black bangs out of the way. "You know who I am, what I am. I can see what is going to happen to others as long as it involves me, as well- that is the reason I saw your coming. However…" the Oracle smiled, "if I look into your eyes, I can accurately see what your future or past and yours alone holds."

He laughed then, a darkly satisfied sound, one that made the hairs on the back of Light's neck stand up. "The priests holding me here grew tired of having their deaths and future misfortunes told to them each time they came for me," he said, and there was a trace of bitterness in his melodic voice. "This blindfold was put on for their peace of mind- and is only taken off when a wealthy noble or member of the royal family pays to have their futures known."

"That seems cruel," Light said thoughtlessly, before he could stop himself.

The Oracle fell silent then, his head tilting to peer at Light through the blindfold. "The gods are not always kind," he said bluntly. "The Oracle has a duty to fulfill, even if he does not wish to do so."

Light's eyes narrowed at this- what the Oracle was saying… he may as well have been trapped inside a cage. "That seems a miserable life."

"It would have been, had I not foreseen your coming and my consequent freedom. Six years I had to wait- a small price to pay."

"You seem so confident that I will take you with me," Light said guardedly, wishing that he had not decided to free the Oracle. Perhaps if he were more unsure, the Oracle would be less confident, and more easily dealt with.

As if sensing Light's unease, a breathy, low chuckle that held no trace of amusement escaped from between the Oracle's pale lips. It was a derisive laughter born of years of always being right- against his will. Even the thought of freedom was soured by the fact that he only knew it because of what he was. If not for his gift, he would not be here in the first place, and the exhilaration of the thought of finally being free was dampened by that dismal outlook.

"You will," the Oracle said with absolute certainty. "The thought of having the Oracle by your side as you stride out of this temple in victory is too attractive a thought for you to simply throw away," the Oracle scoffed, flicking his hair off to the side in a dismissive gesture.

"However…" the Oracle continued, after a few moments, "do you fear the gods? Is that why you hesitate so much?" he questioned. "There is no need. As long as my Sight is intact and you do not impair it in any way, the gods do not care who the Oracle benefits. My purpose in life is to hear their words and speak them," the Oracle explained, and Light could not help but catch the resigned tone that laced the seer's words.

But the Oracle's words sparked a sense of curiosity within him, leading him to ask, "Your Sight can be damaged? That…" Light admitted, "is something that I have never heard of."

"It is not widely known," the Oracle acknowledged, inclining his head. "If it were public knowledge, those who seek to harm Troy would target my Sight. The five years before I was discovered were dark, dismal, lost times. Troy without an Oracle is a lost, weakened Troy."

"Why tell me this?" Light asked, cocking his head. This information could be used against Troy ,and it seemed rather odd that the Oracle was divulging facts that could lead to his city's ruin.

"I despise Troy for the life they have imposed upon me. For years, I cried out to those who came to partake of my gift, asking and pleading for them to help me," the Oracle told Light bitterly, vehemently. "They turned a blind eye- I understand why now, but a simple kind word or touch could have made my life that much more bearable. But I was denied any sort of comfort, and as such, I loathe the city. Let Troy fall; it matters not to me. As they turned a blind eye to me, let me return the favor. All I wish is to have my freedom."

Light was silent in the wake of this revelation for a few moments, taking it in, before he quietly said, "You sound so bitter."

The Oracle wasted no time in retorting, "Hardly an appropriate word for the hate that festers in my heart."

Light's amber eyes narrowed at the words, and another thought struck him. The words were out before he could think them over, asking, "And Apollo did not heed your cries?"

Light could not miss the small intake of breath that the Oracle gave as he spoke Apollo's name, or the odd feeling of familiarity that overtook him as he said it.

The Oracle was silent for some time, before he quietly breathed, "…That, Myrmidon, is something that I will not tell you. What occurs between Apollo and I is a private matter between god and Oracle."

"…I suppose I cannot ask an Oracle to divulge all of his secrets to a simple Myrmidon…" Light murmured, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

The sound of rustling fabric caught his attention and he looked up to see that the Oracle was shifting restlessly, the chains binding him rattling loudly. Sensing that the Oracle was growing impatient with this talk, he nodded shortly to himself, coming to an absolute decision.

After what the Oracle had told him, he could not leave the man here. And to be honest… the thought of simply leaving the Oracle behind here disturbed him, nettling something within his being. He briefly saw the small smile that flitted across the Oracle's lips as he stepped back, unsheathing his sword in a graceful motion. The sound of grating metal echoed in the room, and he felt the weight of his men's eyes upon him as he raised it, eyeing the chains that bound the Oracle.

"Brace yourself," he told the Oracle, gripping his sword firmly in hand and setting his feet firmly. "This might jarr you somewhat."

Without waiting for a reply, Light brought the blade down as hard as he could, the links of the chains giving way under the pressure. The impact did jar the Oracle- Light could see his pallid lips press together in a firm, unrelenting line as the force jerked him harshly to one side, but he didn't cry out- something which Light admired.

Not giving the Oracle time to really register what had happened, he turned and brought his sword down once more, grunting with the effort of severing the chains binding his other arm. There was a bit of slackness, as the seer had foreseen what Light was going to do and had shifted over.

With a loud crack, the chains snapped on the other side. They clattered and clinked as the Oracle's arms fell to his side, weakened from hours of being held tautly in the same position.

Quickly sheathing his sword, Light fell to his keens in front of the Oracle, about to reach out and lay a comforting hand upon his shoulder, but he paused at the last minute, hand only inches away from touching pale flesh.

To touch such a powerful creature… His fingers curled against the insatiable want to close those last few inches and lay his hands upon his skin- would it be warm and alive with Apollo's power, Light wondered, or cool in the chill of the dark temple?- and he forced his hand down.

"Oracle…?" Light chose to ask instead, gazing upon the hunched, still form of the kneeling man. "Are you hurt in any way?"

It took the Oracle a few moments to reply, but when he did, it was not with words.

Slowly, broken chains rattling, the Oracle reached up and grasped his golden blindfold delicately between thumb and index finger. The loose knot at the back gave way and the blindfold slipped loose, draped loosely over his fingers as he pulled his hand away.

A small smile slipped over the Oracle's face as he looked up, and Light's breath caught at the large black eyes that focused on him. There was a frightening amount of intelligence in that gaze, an immeasurable amount of knowledge held within those obsidian-colored eyes. It sent chills up Light's spine, to have such a heavy gaze upon him, the weight no longer lessened by the obscuring blindfold.

"I am fine," the Oracle said, rising gracefully to his feet, gazing about the room, eyes flitting about the room, over the kneeling men, who were looking upon the freed Oracle with awe in their eyes. "You've no idea…" he murmured, smile widening, "how euphoric it feels to be free."

Freedom-

"What did he say to you?!"

The feel of a sharp strike against his cheek was more than enough to bring L out of his trance. His cheek stung and heat rose to it, making it burn. He knew that it would not bruise, but it would swell slightly and be red for hours to come. It was not the first time the Head Priest had laid a hostile hand upon him.

Raising his head, L blinked once, staring straight into the Head Priest's angry eyes- the first time he had dared to do so since he first arrived and was punished for such insolence. However, this time, L's anger was churning throughout his body, hatred for this man burning brightly within his heart.

And suddenly, he knew.

He knew, and deep down, he was aware that he could use that knowledge as he pleased, as he wished.

For he was Apollo's favorite, the Oracle of the Gods, and there was nothing any of them could do to him that L could not take.

Twisted satisfaction surged through him, and suddenly, a twisted smirk split his face. The tensing of his facial muscles stung the mark on his cheek, but L ignored it, reveling in it, because he could make sure it was the last time such a mark was laid upon his skin by the man who had trapped him here.

Dark elation surged through his veins at that heady thought, the satisfaction thrumming through his veins at the knowledge that this was power. He might be imprisoned here, but it did not make him weak.

Leaning in closer, he stared straight into the Head Priest's eyes, reveling in the brief spark of surprise, fear, and apprehension flash through the dull depths.

And whispered.

"Would you like to know how you die?"