Sunlight filtered through perpetually green leaves to paint a labyrinth of sparkling light. A breeze played through the magical trees, sending golden apples dancing and pale petals skipping across the new grass. The orchard’s only inhabitant laughed quietly and brushed the soft dancers away from his face. Eyes the color of amber stared up at the patchwork of leaves and blue sky as limbs that had spent far too long indoors stretched against the spring grass.

Yawning happily, Trey dug his fingers into the ground, enjoying the contrast of the cool earth at his back and the warm sun on his face. Autumn had been early in leaving and spring late in coming that year, leaving him trapped within the oppressive stone walls of the palace for far longer than he had wished. He had only one other winter to compare it to since his former rooms had provided him with no way to watch the turning of the seasons but months of staring out the large frosted windows that overlooked the forest and praying that the day would bring warm sun to melt the hated snow had been almost more than he could stand.

When spring had finally arrived it had been raising floodwaters that had stepped in to steal his promised freedom. Even the magical orchard hadn’t been spared from the effects of the overabundance of water. He’d finally pushed Ivan hard enough to take him to see the orchard but he’d then found himself faced not with the familiar greens, golds, and whites that had been burned upon his memory but rather with a muddy lake peppered with forlorn trees.

He’d feared that the trees would be undermined and destroyed, their roots rotting away in liquid soil but true to the magic they granted whomever ate their fruit they had pulled through the wet spring with not a tree lost. All damage done to root, bough, or bark healed by magic so that when the sun chased away the water the orchard stood as it had always done.

For that Trey would be eternally grateful. There was no other place where he could go where he and, more importantly, Ivan could be sure that he would be left unmolested by the other inhabitants of the palace. He'd spent all of the last two springs and summers in this place and he was glad to be given the chance to do so again this third year.

After his actions in the throne room nearly two years ago, Trey had found himself the subject of unwanted stares and words. Far less in occurrence were the hated touchings for Ivan hovered over him the entire time he attempted to stretch his wings and no one wished to anger the Tsar who dealt in magics most of his subjects couldn’t begin to understand.

Trey found his master’s worry both reassuring and irritating at the same time. He hated being treated like a child that needed to be led around by the hand but at the same time the stares of those who thought him little more than a pretty toy frightened him. He could plainly read their thoughts and desires upon their faces whenever they thought Ivan was not looking and it was enough to send him fleeing like a frightened chick back to the safety of its mother’s wing.

Sighing he rolled onto his side and pillowed his head on his arm, staring through the grass sleepily. The first time he’d convinced Ivan to allow him to attending an informal meeting of the court he’d been so frightened of the lustful looks and the hands that touched him while Ivan’s attention had been captured elsewhere he’d been a shaking mess before the night had been through. But, when faced with the choice of being a prisoner in Ivan’s rooms forever or facing the world, he’d forced himself to accompany the black haired Tsar back out into the world again.

By the end of summer he was even beginning to enjoy it. Especially if they went out riding to one of the satellite villages that lay sprinkled on the outskirts of the city. Sometimes Ivan could even sneak away from court life long enough for the two of them to enjoy a few hours by the river.

The only time he did not accompany his master was during the frequent hunts Ivan’s court was so fond of. He’d gone once and both he and Ivan had hung back with the watchers, neither of them inclined to participate in the death of their prey but they had been separated when an impatient lady had driven her horse between theirs, sending Trey’s mare skipping lightly off to the side where he’d been waylaid by a few daring nobles who were more than a little curious about him. Their insinuations and stray touches had brought back memories he’d rather have left buried and forgotten. Feeling that the red haired slave was taking far too much of his lady’s attention one of the nobles had struck his mount, sending the normally docile bay fleeing into the woods in terror.

By the time he had regained control of his mount he has been thoroughly lost. He’d given the mare her head, hoping she would catch the scent of the other horses and go back to them but she had failed him. He’d been stranded in the unfamiliar territory for hours until the sound of dogs had caught his attention and his mare had finally decided she’d had enough of being hungry and alone and taken him back to the main crowd where Ivan had pretended nonchalance before his court. However, that night in private Ivan had shown his concern by alternating between ranting and raving at him for his lack of care and holding him tightly for comfort. Trey had been ashamed of being the butt of the noble’s joke but when it came to having the rage of a Tsar directed at him or those that found mirth at his expense he’d grudgingly admitted the truth to his irate master.

That had been his first and last hunt since Ivan had declared that it was far too easy to separate them with so many people and so much movement. Having no wish to repeat the experience Trey hadn’t fought the restriction. Since then their rides had consisted of slow walks with only a few guards and servants who knew better than to try to get between the Tsar and his firebird.

As freeing and enjoyable as those times were nothing could come close to the pleasure Trey found within the walled off orchard for only here could Trey truly be alone in the nature he loved so dearly. It was only under the sheltering limbs of the trees that had saved his life twice that he could steal a few moments for himself away from the oppressive walls of his cage and away from the only person he had extended contact with.

Not that Trey disliked Ivan's company; it was just that after a time, as with all creatures, the two of them began to grate on each other’s nerves. Ivan could be overbearing, demanding, and childishly selfish at times and, while Trey could normally ignore these quirks, after being locked together with the raven haired Tsar for months on end the spring found him ready to strangle the man.

His fingers brushed against a long lock of red hair and he flushed slightly in embarrassment at the reminder of the stupidity of his rage. In a fit he’d attempted to take a dagger to the long curls that had grown almost all the way down his back, declaring that he would be no man’s doll to dress up and groom.

Ivan, predictably, had been furious with him and the two had exchanged heated words before the Tsar had removed the dagger from his hands and stormed from his rooms, retreating to one of the smaller manors he owned a few hours to the west, leaving Trey alone in the lavish rooms to contemplate his hasty action. Such thoughts had settled the heavy cloak of depression upon him and when his master had returned he had cringed in the corner, sure that the imposing man felt only hatred for him.

Ivan had only shook his head at the display and silently begun the arduous task of coaxing his firebird back out from under the shadow. He had proven that he didn’t hate him despite his rash decisions, strong words, or wildly fluctuating moods.

A small smile curved across Trey’s lips at the memory of Ivan’s "coaxing". His master could be most persuasive when he wished it.

Rolling back onto his back Trey pushed himself up so he could lean against the smooth trunk of a nearby tree, one hand coming up to brush lightly across his chest. Closing his eyes he shivered as the gentle touch raised goose bumps across his flesh. His fingers brushed across his hardening nipples and a small gasp escaped his lips.

The touch of his fingers sent conflicting emotions through him as his body registered pleasure but his mind tried to scream against it, fearing the pain that had caused seven years of his life to be a haze of memories that haunted his sleep. The past had taught him that such actions only resulted in pain and misery but the last two years had begun to fight that steadfast truth as Ivan sought to teach him to take pleasure in his body.

Splaying one hand across his abdomen the other ventured up to tease along the stiff linen collar about his neck. He’d balked and hollered about wearing the thing in public but Ivan had refused to be moved on the subject. Trey had to admit it was pretty a thing, red silk stiffened with maroon and gold embroidery and tiny rubies, and it didn’t look much like a collar but he knew it was a collar and had burned with humiliation when he’d been forced to wear it in public for the first time.

That was until he discovered that the slightest brush of fingers along the edges sent his blood boiling. The collar was a mark of ownership as surely as Ivan’s every touch was a brand upon his skin and when the two came together it drowned him pleasure.

Running his hands over his thighs he arched his back as pleasure sang through him, setting him aflame. His fingers fisted, bunching the light cloth of his pants as he fought against the urge to touch himself. It was only for his master to grant him higher pleasure and that was another point that Ivan would not back down on. With a shuddering sigh he forced his hands away from his body and tried to relax.

Some days he was willing to challenge Ivan’s possession of his body but while enjoying this gift of solitude and nature he would respect it. He did not wish to appear ungrateful and secretly he shivered at the acknowledgement that someone held mastery over him. That also was an odd feeling for him. Never before had he felt the strange excitement that Ivan’s possession gave him. Then again none of his previous masters had ever sought to return even the smallest amount of the pleasure he gave them to fulfill his needs.

He’d agreed to Ivan’s claim upon him at first just to escape from the abuse he suffered at the former tsar’s and his eldest son’s hands. At the time Ivan had seemed the lesser of two evils even though the raven haired man’s words and actions confused Trey and threatened to break the barriers he had erected to protect himself against the sins committed against his body. He’d even received promises from the man that he wouldn’t be humiliated as he had been during his time as Dedumil’s slave and, most importantly, the promise to be released from his cage every now and then.

Ivan had kept his promises and Trey had kept his not to attempt to escape, even though being granted a horse to ride or grass to walk upon gave him ample opportunity to flee. He knew he need never fear the pain of a guard’s arrow if he fled for Ivan would never have allowed them to harm him and being tied down as the tsar kept Ivan from following him if he made it past the borders of his kingdom. However, as long as Ivan maintained his end of the bargain Trey was determined to keep his.

Then a strange thing had begun to happen. Despite his best intentions, despite the voice of reason inside of him Trey found that he no longer wished to flee from his imprisonment. It had struck him one morning when something had awoken him shortly after the sun had risen. It had been far too early for Ivan to rise and so his master had still been sleeping deeply when his firebird awoke. Trey had lain awake for some time, watching the new sun play across the long black strands when he’d suddenly noticed the steel key lying upon the bedside table.

At that moment he realized that he could have taken the key and fled. He could have run until he had reached lands he had once called home. Where nobody had even heard of firebirds or the Rus. He could have regained his freedom. All he had to do was reach out and take it.

The moment passed and he realized that the feeling welling up within him at the thought of regaining his freedom was not excitement, not happiness, nor was it joy. It was fear. He feared being alone in the world. He feared the thought of not learning the things Ivan wished to teach him. It was at that moment he realized that he liked what Ivan did to him. He liked how Ivan made him feel. For perhaps the first time in his life he felt safe and wanted. As long as Ivan owned him he need only fear his master’s anger and he had already survived Ivan at his worst.

Never had Ivan taken him when his body hadn’t been prepared for him. Never since their first meeting had Ivan caused him hurtful pain for his own perverted pleasure. Whenever Ivan was moved to strike him it was either in direct connection with an order refused or with the promise of heightened pleasure.

Trey blushed slightly with the admission that his master was very good at creating pleasure from pain. If Ivan caused him pain it was pain he had brought on himself. His temper was usually what placed him in such positions.

Trey smiled and ran his fingers through the soft grass. Ivan didn’t fall into rages as easily as he did. It took days of things to pile up before the raven haired man had enough and even then he was more likely to work behind the scenes to correct the problem than confront it with anger. Ivan had never physically beaten him for anything. If he pushed Ivan too far the Tsar’s rage showed itself in a single sharp slap and a few searing words before it burned out just as quickly as it had shown itself.

More often then not Ivan’s frustration came from trying to play court politics against people who wished to take part of his power while Trey’s frustration came from boredom. There was very little for him to do during the day other than reading and he’d read his fill for a hundred lifetimes. When Ivan returned to him at night the young Tsar usually wasn’t interested in verbal communication since he’d been playing word games all day while Trey himself was anxious for contact with another human.

Sighing he flung an arm over his eyes to block out a stray beam of sunlight that filtered through the trees and shone brightly in his eyes. He knew better than to question Ivan’s motives in keeping him but years of captivity had made a fearful creature of him. He was terrified that one day Ivan would lose interest in him and move on. What would become of him then? Would he be locked away for the rest of his life, perhaps even returned to the desolate rooms Vislav had kept him in? Or would Ivan sell him off to the highest bidder? He didn’t know and it ate at him.

A nearly imperceptible sound snapped Trey out of his thoughts and up onto his elbows as he stared around the orchard in surprise. He’d spent enough time under these trees to know what sounds were natural and what sounds were not. This sound, though almost inaudible, was not a natural sound.

Rising slowly he pulled on his discarded tunic, lacing it. He turned his head to peer about him. A small breeze caught his long hair and sent shivers down the back of his neck as he felt the familiar tang of fear pour through his veins. He stood frozen, unsure of what to do. Once upon a time he would have gone to see what had caused the sound but years of being prey in the hands of other humans had made him fearful of them. He preferred not to think of what would happen to him in the hands of a human who could enter the heavily guarded orchard.

He backed up a few steps, alert for the slightest indication of a shape or shadow that did not belong among the delicate curves of the trees. The only other person who should have been able to access the orchard was Ivan and his master always called out upon entering.

Trey’s elbow brushed against something soft, yielding, and completely foreign to this place of trees and fruit, making him jump and whirl in surprise. There was an answering cry and he found himself staring into a pair of pale blue eyes.

The woman before him gasped and shrank back, unconsciously mirroring his own hasty movements. "Please don’t hurt me! I mean no harm!" She whispered, her voice trembling.

Trey blinked in surprise. "I . . . what are you doing here?" He demanded, trying to slow his beating heart.

Glancing around nervously the woman’s fingers tangled in the thin white cloth draped over her pale shoulders making pearl threads upon it shimmer slightly. Trey stared at it, fascinated despite his fear. He couldn’t make out the pattern upon the cloth, so pale was the thread, but he could see that it had been done by a true artist’s hand.

"I was hungry. I came for a few bits of fruit, nothing more." She said, her voice snapping out of his sudden fascination of her cloth.

"The fruit? You ate the fruit?" Trey asked, grabbing a hold of her arm in his sudden worry. The woman gasped and backed up another step, trying to pull away from him. Trey flushed slightly and loosened his grip. "I am sorry but this is very important. Did you eat any of the fruit here?"

She shook her head, making golden hair shimmer over her shoulders. "No, you startled me."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "You must not eat these apples, lady. They are not normal fruit."

The woman turned her head so that her hair covered part of her face. A strand fell across his hand and Trey was surprised to find that it felt warm, not cool like Ivan’s hair. "I know," she whispered, "that is why I am here."

Trey opened his mouth to reply but a smooth voice, thinly cloaking anger in polite inquiry, cut him off before he could reply.

"Oh, do tell, my dear."