The Mage King's Conquest

Author's note: This is M/M.

***

Prince Cian's heart was racing in his chest as he stood in his father's throne room with only a dozen soldiers. They were the last line of defence against the terrifying forces of the Mage King. His father had ordered him and his brothers to stay here yesterday, before he had gone into battle with the elite troops of the castle. His two older brothers, Evin and Kieron, had left that morning with troops to do battle in the courtyard. Kieron, the oldest, wisest, strongest, had told Cian to stay here to defend the throne. Evin had joked that it wouldn't be necessary and that Cian would just be sitting on his ass, but Cian had seen the nervous look in his brother's eyes.

Cian and the other soldiers left in the throne room had listened to the sound of battle in the courtyard of the castle. He had thought it the worst moment of his life, having to listen to the ringing of swords against armour, the screams of horses and men, the shouts from the commanders, while he was up here.

But that was nothing compared to the silence that followed.

Cian knew that the Mage King had killed his father, his two brothers, and all the soldiers that had stood in his way. His mother had fortunately escaped with his younger sister, secreted away on a boat two days ago. They had hoped to cross the sea and beg allies for help.

But the Mage King had conquered every kingdom he had set his eyes on. His magic was too powerful and his army was too big. His soldiers fought like machines, barely noticing when their arm got chopped off. They simply kept going.

Cian wondered what would happen when the Mage King inevitably came into the throne room. He glanced down at the crown his father had left on the seat of his throne, and he planted himself on the bottom step of the dais. He would die, that much was for certain.

Still, he kept up a façade for the soldiers. They couldn't notice how scared he was. When they heard the sound of fighting coming from the hallway, he told eight of them to take up a defensive position, a half-circle around the thick, oak door. The other four, archers, would form a second ring behind the first. Hopefully, that would kill some of the Mage King's warriors.

Cian winced when he heard a loud thud against the closed door to the throne room. "Prepare yourself, men! For the King!"

"The King!" the soldiers shouted, some of them raising their swords in the air.

Cian gripped his own sword. He wasn't used to wearing his full suit of armour. He had been trained in sword fighting and archery, yes, but not as much as Kieron or even Evin. He was the third in line. His father intended him to be a scholar, hoping that Cian would be a good advisor to Kieron once he ascended to the throne.

He had spent his youth with the best tutors, and what had that brought him? He knew more about the Mage King than others, he supposed. He had studied the man's rise to power, which had started over a dozen years ago now, or at least, he had studied the few scraps there were to study.

No one knew his name, since the Mage King had destroyed anyone who had known him before, but there was speculation based on the few facts people did have. He was a tall, broad man in his mid-to-late forties, with hair the colour of midnight. His eyes were as bright as silver, or as bright as the sun, or as bright as freshly fallen snow. The reports on that varied, as few had looked into his eyes and lived to tell the tale. He could enslave people with a look, bending them to his will as if they were puppets.

He had great magical powers, and he must've been a student at the Mage Academy. The Mage King had destroyed it as one of his first acts after crowning himself, making sure no one would rival him or find out who he really was.

Cian wondered what had driven his lust for power. Had he come to the Mage Academy planning to become the Mage King? How long had he plotted to conquer all the known kingdoms before putting his plan into action? A few kings had sent emissaries in an attempt to broker peace, but those emissaries had never returned. Killed, or were they now part of the Mage King's entourage?

There were more loud thuds against the door, and they stopped as suddenly as they had begun. Cian could feel the sense of relief in the throne room. The soldiers thought the Mage King had given up, but Cian knew better. He raised his sword, moving into a defensive stance, and pulled the visor of his helmet down.

The doors creaked, and without warning, shattered into a thousand pieces. Cian turned away from the blast, and he felt a piece of wood hit his helmet. His ears were ringing with the noise, but he could dimly hear the screams as bigger pieces had pierced through the armour of the men closest to the door.

He looked at the doorway, and saw a dark figure stand in the centre. He was dressed in black leather trousers which hugged his strong thighs, and wore supple leather boots. His shirt was black too, and he was wearing a dark red cape, which trailed behind him. The man strode into the room, seemingly ignoring the soldiers who were attacking him. One flick of his hand, and they flew across the room, hitting the stone wall and sliding down to the floor.

Cian gripped his sword tight. This was the Mage King. He risked a glance at the man's eyes, but could only see that they were bright before he looked away again. If the rumours were true, it wasn't safe to look at his eyes for too long.

"Which one of you is Prince Cian?" the Mage King asked, his low voice filling the room.

Cian counted quickly. Three of his father's soldiers had fallen to the ground near the remains of the door. Four had been thrown across the room by the Mage King's magic. That left Cian with the four archers, and one foot soldier. "Attack!" he cried. Surrendering was not an option.

The Mage King laughed as the remaining soldier attacked while the archers fired their arrows. A few quick moves of his hand, and the arrows had turned in the air, hitting the men who had shot them with force. The one soldier lay crumpled on the ground. Cian hadn't seen what exactly had happened to him.

The Mage King strode forward, past the corpses of the archers and stopped only a few feet away from Cian.

Cian kept his sword raised and his eyes on the Mage King's broad chest. He couldn't look the man in his eyes.

"You must be Prince Cian." The Mage King's voice was as low and smooth as the leather he was wearing. "Congratulations, you are the heir to the throne."

"I don't want it," he spat, taking a step forward. He aimed his sword at the Mage King's chest. Why hadn't the man stopped him yet?

The Mage King laughed. "Everyone wants power, boy. Even you. You must've fantasised about it, hmm? About being the King?"

He shook his head. He had stopped imagining that when he had been a kid and realised that he'd only be King if his father and two brothers were dead, and that thought had been horrifying. "Never." He took another step forward. The tip of his sword was only inches away from the Mage King's chest.

Quick as a snake, the Mage King's hand moved to grab the blade. He gripped it, and moved it to the right. Cian stared at the man's hand. Why was there no blood? He thrust it forward, stabbing nothing but air.

The Mage King laughed. "Drop the sword, little Prince." His grip tightened, and with his other hand he grabbed Cian's wrist. Immense pain flared up, and Cian hissed as he dropped the sword. The Mage King released him, and Cian stepped back, staring at his wrist.

He was wearing his suit of armour; the Mage King had never even touched his bare skin! How had he managed to make Cian feel such pain?

He stumbled backwards as the Mage King strode forward, and fell down on the steps with the back of his head hitting the throne. He tried to get up, but the Mage King's hand was on his breastplate, and Cian found that he couldn't get up. He could move his arms and legs, and he kicked the Mage King, but the Mage King didn't budge.

"Stop fighting, little Prince," the Mage King told him.

Cian held his breath as the Mage King reached for him with his other hand. Cian's eyes were on the man's large hand coming for his neck. Then he closed his eyes, bracing himself for the pain, which never came.

He frowned in surprise when he realized that the Mage King was removing his helmet. Cian's blond curls tumbled free, and Cian flinched when he felt a hand run through his hair. The Mage King was touching him!

"Yes, you are definitely Prince Cian," the Mage King murmured. "I thought the stories of your beauty were an exaggeration, but I'm glad to be proven wrong."

Even though he was trembling in fear at the thought of what the Mage King would do next, Cian felt his cheeks redden as he kept his eyes firmly closed. His brothers had teased him so often about those stories, making sure to keep Cian up to date about every one of them. He couldn't believe that the stories had reached the Mage King too. Surely a man like him didn't care about silliness like that?

He winced when he felt a rough thumb stroke across his bottom lip, and he moved his head back, freeing himself from the Mage King's touch.

"Yes, soft golden locks, full red lips... but what of your eyes, little Prince? Are they as blue as a summer sky, hmm?"

He gasped when the Mage King grabbed a fistful of his hair, tugging on it sharply. "Aah!"

"Open your eyes for me, little Prince," the Mage King told him. "Or I shall have to hurt you further."

Cian tried to shake his head, keeping his eyes firmly closed. He was certain now that the Mage King only wanted him to open his eyes so he would look into the Mage King's eyes and be under his spell. He couldn't let that happen. "Never."

"Never? That is a shame." Suddenly, the Mage King released him, and Cian heard him step back.

Cian tried to get up, but found that he was still pressed to the steps underneath him by something heavy. "Let me go!"

"If you open your eyes."

Cian shook his head again.

The Mage King snapped his fingers. "You two, remove his armour. He won't need it anymore."

Cian wondered if the Mage King meant the corpses around him, but then he heard clanking footsteps coming over to him, and then two pairs of hands started working on his suit of armour. He tried to push back and pull away, but the magical force keeping him down was too much.

The two men - he assumed they were men, as he kept his eyes closed the entire time - moved him around so they could reach everywhere, and Cian could only wait until they had removed his suit of armour completely. He was left wearing his woollen stockings and padded coat.

"Remove those too," the Mage King said. "Remove all his clothes."

"No!" Cian said, trying to sit up again, but he felt a hand grab his throat, squeezing until he could no longer breathe. The two men, meanwhile, kept removing the rest of his clothes while Cian tried to grab the arm attached to the hand that was strangling.

His hands found nothing but air, and his fingers brushed the skin of his throat. There was no one strangling him.

"Don't fight it, little Prince." The Mage King sounded amused. "There's no point. This kingdom is mine now, along with everything in it. Well..." He let out a chuckle. "It will be soon enough."

He was able to breathe, but the pressure was still there around his throat as the two men removed the rest of his clothing. He was left naked in the throne room, and he shivered in the chilly air.

"Mmm, yes, very nice," the Mage King said, coming closer.

Cian started when he felt a hand on his knee. The magic hand that had been squeezing his throat vanished. The hand on his knee slid down his inner thigh and towards his groin, and Cian moved out of the way until the hand rested on his outer thigh. His heart was racing in his chest. Why was the Mage King doing this?

The Mage King laughed. "Don't be shy, little Prince. You're mine now."

Cian's hands, which had been resting on the cold stone underneath him, curled into fists. "Yours? I'm not yours!" What did the Mage King want with him? Keep him hostage until his mother and younger sister returned, so that they wouldn't try to fight him?

The hand on his thigh was stroking him again, circling the same patch of skin. "It'll be easier to take over this kingdom if my consort is a member of the royal family. You will be my consort, princeling."

"Never," Cian replied, keeping his head bowed and his eyes closed.

The Mage King's rough hand left his thigh and moved to tip his head up. "I'm going to enjoy having you," the Mage King told him. His voice was low and he sounded close. Cian could feel the man's breath against his cheeks. He had to be only inches away. "You're a pretty young thing, and it's been a while since I've had time for a fuck. Tell me, princeling, have you ever had sex?"

His cheeks burned despite how serious the situation was. "That's none of your business," he managed.

The truth was that he was a virgin. His parents had told them frequently enough about the risk of siring bastards, and even if he had wanted to have sex with one of the girls who was making eyes at him, there was always some servant or chaperone around. He'd never even had the opportunity.

"I will take that as a 'no'," the Mage King replied, his thumb running across Cian's bottom lip. "Mmm, I'm going to enjoy taking your virginity. I'm sure you'll enjoy it. I'll make sure that you do."

Cian remained quiet. He knew that the Mage King intended to hypnotise him so he'd enjoy it.

The hand that had tipped his chin up and caressed his mouth drifted down his throat and down his chest. The Mage King pressed his hand firmly against Cian's chest. "I can feel your heartbeat, princeling. So quick, so scared. There's really no need."

The hand left his skin, and he heard the Mage King get up. "Take him to the King's chambers."

Cian gasped at that. His father's chambers? Two men pulled him up, and he stumbled on his feet as they dragged him away. He opened his eyes and stared at the ground so he wouldn't trip over anything, and was even more aware of his own nakedness than before.

The soldiers who were dragging him with them didn't seem to pay it any mind. Perhaps they had seen this plenty of times before. Perhaps the Mage King had used his magic so they wouldn't care.

It was strange to be brought into the King's chambers. He didn't come here often, but seeing the large four-poster bed with its red sheets made and pillows propped up, already awaiting his father, made his heart ache. The carpet under his feet was warm and plush, and there were still a few scrolls on the writing desk. Messages his father had failed to send, or messages he had received?

"This will do."

At the sound of the Mage King's voice, Cian immediately closed his eyes again. That made it a little easier to bear being in here, but now he had to listen to the man walk around his father's chambers. He grit his teeth when he heard the rustling of scrolls as the Mage King read them.

"Interesting," the Mage King said. "Here, take these and bring them to General Redcuth. I'll discuss this news with him later. The two of you are dismissed."

"Yes, my liege." Two echoing voices, and then departing footsteps and the door shutting behind them.

He was alone with the Mage King.

"You're very stubborn, princeling."

Cian remained quiet. What was there to say? Of course he wasn't going to cooperate. He listened to the Mage King move around the room, and he held his breath when the man stopped in front of him.

"I'm going to enjoy fucking you, and you will like it." The Mage King rested both hands against Cian's chest. "I know what you're thinking, princeling. You're thinking that I will use magic to make you like it. To make you beg." He spread his fingers, running his hands slowly up and down Cian's chest. "But I don't need magic to do that. All I need to do is find out what you enjoy."

Cian clenched his fists by his side. "I will not enjoy this." The Mage King's arrogant words only made him angrier. There had to be some way he could fight back.

"We shall see, princeling." The Mage King's hands went to his nipples, both of which were hard. The Mage King rolled his thumb over them a few times, but the feeling didn't do much for Cian. Suddenly, the Mage King pinched his nipples sharply, tugging on them.

Cian gasped, wincing in pain and raising his hands to push the Mage King away. His own hands landed against a solid chest, still clad in that black shirt. He might as well have been pushing against a brick wall.

The Mage King laughed and dropped his hands, and pushed Cian's hands away. "Too much, too soon, perhaps." There was the rustling of clothes, then the Mage King grabbed Cian's wrists and put his hands against his chest.

Cian was surprised at that. He could feel the Mage King's warm skin underneath his hands. He could feel coarse chest hair and muscles. He felt so normal, so human.

The Mage King then took his wrist and led him across the room and towards the bed. He made Cian sit down, then Cian had to wait and listen to more rustling of clothes, the thunk of boots and a belt being unbuckled.

His cheeks reddened at the idea that the Mage King was naked too. He was very tempted to take a look, to see if the Mage King looked as human as he felt, but he resisted. He couldn't look. He couldn't let himself be hypnotised. He had to think of a way out of this.

"Where were we?" The Mage King sounded like he was nearby again, and Cian felt a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back until he was lying on the bed.

He felt the mattress dip underneath him as the Mage King joined him.

"Ah yes, finding out what you enjoy, princeling." A hand on his chest wandered down to his stomach, stroking him lightly.

Cian was sure the Mage King would move down to his limp cock, but he didn't. Instead, the hand moved back up, keeping its touch gentle and light.

"I understand that you're nervous, little Prince," the Mage King told him, his mouth close to Cian's left ear. "Since this is your first time. But you will enjoy this very much if you let yourself."

He felt fingers run through his hair, stroking him gently, and the touches themselves were surprisingly nice. If it had been anyone else, Cian would've enjoyed it. As it was, he kept his hands against the sheets, trying not to touch the Mage King by accident.

He started when he felt lips and a coarse beard against his chest as the Mage King licked and kissed and even bit his way across Cian's chest. He gasped in surprise, his mind whirling. Why was the Mage King doing this? Why was he being so gentle?

"Relax, princeling," the Mage King murmured. "Enjoy yourself."

The hand that had been on his stomach did drift down now, fingers lightly caressing his cock before curling around it.

Cian hissed at that. It felt strange, having someone else's hand wrapped around his cock. The Mage King began to move his fist up and down, thumb swiping across the tip of his dick, and Cian shook his head when his cock began to harden. "No."

"You'll be saying 'yes' soon enough," the Mage King assured him, and kept stroking his cock while petting his hair. "You're getting hard, princeling. Of course you are. No one else but you has ever stroked your cock like this."

Cian didn't reply. He was panting now, and hating how his body was reacting to the touches. He was getting hard, and he didn't want to be. Why was this feeling so good? Why was the Mage King being so gentle?

He could only gasp as the Mage King quietly kept stroking his dick until he was fully hard, and even then, the Mage King kept going, tightening his grip and speeding up the movement of his wrist.

Cian let out a sigh. Oh yes, this is how he would touch himself if he needed release. His hips were beginning to rock into the tight grip.