A bird in captivity is still just as beautiful

The beautiful room, decorated with kilos of gold and silk, did not fit well with one of its new inhabitants. The dusty, fresh-smelling steppe and life-scented KK, now sitting on the floor, with broken wings and severed tendons in his legs, sighed languidly, trying to normalise his breathing. Trying to say something, he only coughed again, looking at his tormentor with such tired but angry eyes, expressing anger and resentment for betrayal and brazen lies. - Aha..You said we'd make a military alliance! Do you know what that is? It's when one nation helps another nation in a war and vice versa! What did you do?! - The Kazakh said in a shouting voice. It was hurtful. He believed him. He believed that he really wanted to help him, to make an alliance, and here...! - And what's your problem, my dear? You're safe. No one will attack you, and you are living in silk and gold now, look! - The Emperor spread his arms wide, showing the scale and beauty of this room. - Isn't this what you wanted? - Murmured RE, coming closer and closer to the object of his strange love and obsession. - No one will touch you. Let them dare. Fresh blood was oozing out of her leg just above the heel, and the man ran a finger along it, subsequently licking the blood off it. Bloody hell, it was extremely pleasant. The blood, which was not just scarlet, but purple, seemed to taste of its owner.... Fresh, morning dew and grass, horses and sheep, all the life force that lurked in this indomitable bird. Admittedly, RI was ready to lick this purple liquid not only from his feet, but from any part of his body, whether it was his face or his genitals. Taking such a strong and taut leg in his equally powerful hands, he began to lick it with a smack, or suck all the blood flowing from the wound. KK, did not come to his senses quickly from such treatment. - Get your hands off me! - Han was in a kind of posture, and he was also a little scared. But when the blood was being sucked from his leg, he came to his senses and moved his ankles out of his reach, and threw the first thing that came to hand at his face. As it turned out, it was a gilded candlestick that had fallen from a pedestal nearby. It hit him hard. So strong, in fact, that when it hit RE's face, it broke his nose, and soon blood began to flow from it. Already anticipating his imminent doom, Khan pressed himself even closer to the wall, his eyes scrambling fearfully for a way out. Apologise? He wouldn't forgive him. Run away? He can't move his foot, how? Hit him again, but enough to kill him? He's not strong enough. He did something with this throw, the next one would only cause a bruise, which wasn't enough. He didn't even have to think about flying away. His wings ached, so much so that even a little pressure on them hurt. And where to go? It would make noise at most, and that was the last thing he needed. He is in the territory where his tormentor is the ruler, and he is obeyed almost unconditionally. So, right now, everything is not on Khan's side at all. The emperor sat on his knees, slightly dumbfounded by this. Blood was spurting from his nose, gradually running down his chin and falling in scarlet drops to the floor and onto the Empire's trousers. Touching it, he felt a sharp pain, which made his hand immediately jerk and pull away from the damaged flesh. The edge of bone was visible from beneath the skin. Was he angry? No, not one bit. He was furious. Misunderstanding and resentment turned at once into an anger that no one could quell. He stood up abruptly, ignoring the sharp, unrelenting pain, and walked a couple of steps to get close to KK. - Who do you think you are, little bird? And then a kick in the stomach. A sharp, hard one, which made the poor man slide off the wall and sit half-lying, putting his hands to the sore spot and gritting his teeth trying not to scream. Then another one, which came again on the stomach, but this time more to the hands that pressed the place, as if it was about to bleed. From the blow, his hands instinctively disappeared from his stomach, and he was already on the hard floor. Without even giving him a break, the RI struck him again, at his throat. He could have screamed from such hellish pain, but all he could get out was an exhalation, which threw all the air out of his lungs. It was hard to breathe, only pathetic attempts that did no good. He gasped for breath. Sliding completely to the floor, he tried not to drop his skates right there. It was probably better than putting up with all this, though. Out of his thoughts about his imminent death, he felt another blow to his chest, but this time, which caused him to finally take a breath of life-giving air. He coughed, lying on the floor, unable to even stand up. Tears were streaming from his eyes, and he wanted to hit him, to make him feel how bad he felt right now. He wanted to scream. - You look pathetic. The Russian stood there, staring at him with a glare. A smile shone on his face, and the blood had stopped flowing so much from his nose, slowly caking on his skin. God, the mere sight of the suffering and crying man made him want him so badly that his trousers were getting tighter and tighter by the minute. And the great joy was that he wasn't going anywhere. And he's not going to fly away with his beautiful wings. He's taken care of that. If he has to, he'll rip those wings off and chop off his legs. But luckily, there are enough incisions in the important tendons. Bending over, he took him under his arms, and seated him opposite him, sitting down on his knees. The tears were still streaming from Khanate's face, but the face had changed. It was stern and vacant, no different from the face of the Kazakh when they first met. Thick eyebrows were frowned, and the gaze of black eyes was fixed directly on RE. Immediately, Kazakh slapped him in the face. — Tozaqqa ket, onbağan! (Or to hell with you, you bastard) This time the emperor did not hesitate. His hand squeezed the Khan's hand so that it seems a little more and the crunch of bones would be heard. And even though this sound was never heard, the hand of Khanate became pale, because the hand of RI, literally blocked the blood path. - Get away from me! Don't touch me! I..I will kill you! - KK screamed again. His breathing hadn't even returned to normal, and he was already tearing up his voice, hoping to get through to this sadist, though deep down he knew it was useless. He realised that no good would come of it. But he couldn't give up so easily. It's not his style. He had to be tough, and die in battle, not in captivity. At that time an aristocratic hand lowered his brush, and its owner looked him straight in the eye. "What's in that shaitan's head?" ran through KK's mind, and he gazed just as diligently into the Russian's eyes. It was a strange change of mood. That question was going round and round in his head while the Kazakh tried to look just as unshakable. Though it was going terribly well. The tears gave everything away. - Have you calmed down? Said the blue-eyed man, staring intently at KK. Silence. It lasted for about two minutes. - What...What do you want from me? He stared at the blond man, slamming his eyes shut. He felt...Strange to say the least. Maybe it was the fear. He was afraid. Wouldn't you be afraid of having your wings broken, your feet cut so that you couldn't walk, and if you tried to fight back, you'd be beaten up right away? - What did I ever do to you? What? He said in a slightly hoarse voice. He wanted to scream, but as he realised, there was no point. And he was beginning to wheeze from screaming for so long. His throat itched unpleasantly. - Your love, can't you see it? - He tilted his head to the side like a puppy, still staring at him intently. - You have a strange way of showing love..... - Said the man, looking away. Who does that? What kind of lunatic courts his object of adoration...? Right? Oh, right. The Russian Empire, an extremely sick state, with equally sick tendencies. - You know, when I was a young boy, I was told a wise thing - what you love, you have to protect. That's what I do. No one can touch you but me. That means you'll be safe and sound. I'll know what you are and how you are. And I'll always be there for you, asking for a little love in return. Sounds like a bargain to me! - He smiled warmly, looking at the turned away Kazakh. Reaching his hand to the face of the object of his admiration, he stroked his cheek with his thumb, touching the light stubble with his fingers. - Yeah. Except for the fact that I didn't ask for complete safety. And I'd be worse off with you than alone. - He didn't react to the Empire's touch. He didn't want to get hit again. And he couldn't take another punch or shout. Everything from head to toe hurt, and he wasn't even exaggerating. And losing his voice completely was not in his plans. So he endured the horrible hands that now gently stroked his cheek, but just a few minutes ago were squeezing his hand until it was blue. - Why do you think so, my clear falcon? You're weak, and you must be treated like crystal. Carefully, or if you drop it, it will shatter into small pieces. Though, looking at your fragmentation, you are already cracked. The Russian grinned, still stroking Khan's cheek, but slowly moving to his head, gently mussing his black and straight as water hair. - I'm not crystal. I can heal my wounds and as you say 'Cracks'. If I want to, I will become such a great state that I will become even more powerful than you. - So why aren't you doing it? After a short silence, the stepparent unwilling to admit the inaccuracy in his words, said again : - I don't want to. Proud, proud and stubborn sheep. What can I do? - Fool. - RE smiled more than ever. - Trying to keep your pride? Nice. It'll be interesting when you finally forget about it. After saying those words, he got up from the floor, and after casting a fleeting glance at KK, he slowly walked out of the room, only turning around for a second and saying : - The doctor will be here soon. You'll be as good as new. • • •