Donatello walked with Raphael back to the prince’s room. The prince was a little wobbly on his feet but managed, no, insisted on walking there unassisted. If he was anything like his father, he was stubborn.
When they reached the room, Raphael slowly sat down on the bed. His hand covered the cheek where his father had struck him.
“Do you feel dizzy,” Donatello asked.
Raphael carefully shook his head.
“Let me look at your jaw,” Donatello offered, kneeling in front of Raphael. “Do you taste any blood?”
“No,” Raphael said through closed teeth as he lowered his hand.
“That’s good,” Donatello said. “That means you still have all your teeth.” He gently ran his fingers down Raphael’s jaw. “I’m surprised there isn’t more swelling.”
“It doesn’t hurt that bad,” Raphael said, testing his jaw.
“You’re lucky it isn’t broken,” Donatello said. “I thought, for sure that your father had knocked you senseless.”
“I’m just glad he didn’t take you from me,” Raphael said.
“You never should have threatened Aaron,” Donatello said as he felt along the cheek bone.
“You’re right,” Raphael said, keeping his eyes locked on Donatello’s. “I shouldn’t let them know how much… I…,” he pulled his eyes away and looked at the ground. “I should pretend to not care. Maybe then they will stop using you to punish me.”
Donatello lowered his hand and studied Raphael’s face. He could see the sorrow. “I am also glad that your father didn’t send me elsewhere. Staying here, with you, is preferable to anywhere else.”
Raphael looked into Donatello’s eyes and there was a spark of hope in them. Raphael leaned in a little and Donatello’s heart began to race. The hope in Raphael’s eyes had turned into desire.
The moment was broken when there was a knock on the wall. They both stood and turned in its direction as the hidden door cracked open. “Raph?”
“Mikey, what’re you doing,” Raphael demanded. “What have I told you about sneaking into my room like this? Why didn’t you just come through the door?”
Michelangelo stepped into the room, shutting the hidden door behind him. “I was already in the hidden passageways when I heard the news.” He rushed towards Raphael and began scanning his face. “Where did he hit you?”
“Here,” Raphael said, pointing to his cheek.
“There’s nothing there,” Michelangelo said in astonishment. “He must not have hit you that hard.”
“It was hard,” Donatello said. “Sent the prince to the ground. I didn’t think he would be getting up for a while.” As he replayed the scene in his head, Donatello plopped down on a hard chair and then immediately stood back up.
“Are you alright,” Raphael asked.
Donatello stood in disbelief for a moment before sitting back down. “It didn’t hurt. I had stood back up, reflexively, expecting it to hurt, before I had even realized that there was no pain.”
“None at all,” Raphael asked as he approached.
Donatello shook his head.
“Let me see,” Raphael offered.
Donatello’s eyes shot up to Michelangelo, nervous about dropping his pants in front of the young prince. Michelangelo must have picked up on the apprehension and turned around.
“I won’t look.”
Turning, Donatello lowered his trousers so Raphael could inspect his wounds.
“They’re gone,” Raphael said in disbelief.
Donatello ran his fingers where the scabs once were to find only smooth skin. “They are.”
“I am seriously fighting the urge to turn around and look,” Michelangelo said. “How is it possible for Donatello’s wounds to just vanish?”
“The Phoenix is known to heal,” Donatello offered as an explanation as he pulled his pants back up.
“Phoenix!” Michelangelo spun around. “What Phoenix?”
“We saw two spirits earlier today,” Raphael said. “While we were out by the waterfall.”
Michelangelo’s face lit up. “Two?” he squeaked. “What was the other one?”
“A long dragon,” Raphael answered.
“Mizuchi!” Michelangelo got so excited he danced in place. “You saw Mizuchi, the river spirit? And, the phoenix… that’s Suzaku!”
“They didn’t tell us their names,” Raphael said slowly. “Why do you think their names are Mizuchi and Suzaku?”
Michelangelo froze, thought for a moment and then said, “I read it in a book.”
Raphael’s eyes narrowed. “What are you hiding?”
“Nothing…,” Michelangelo replied.
“Where did you find this book,” Raphael asked.
“In the royal library,” Michelangelo lied. “You’d be surprised what information you could find in there if you took the time to look.”
“What did you read about them,” Raphael demanded.
“Mizuchi is the spirit of the river that runs through the forest,” Michelangelo said. “Born from the waterfall and the lake. He traveled out to the sea to bring the first settlers here.”
“And, Suzaku?” Raphael prompted.
“He’s the spirit of healing,” Michelangelo said. “You see his symbol on every certified medical professional in this area. It’s one of the few things from the old kingdom that survived father’s purge.”
Raphael crossed his arms over his plastron. “If father purged it all, how do you know about them? Where did you rally find the books?”
“In the hidden tunnels,” Michelangelo admitted. “You’d be amazed at the things I find in there.” He thought for a moment. “I wonder what they wanted with you. The fact that they healed you is a great honor. It was powerful enough to keep you from getting seriously hurt when father hit you.”
Raphael rubbed his cheek. “I didn’t think about that. I thought the blessing was just for Donatello since he….”
Raphael’s voice trailed off as he looked up at Donatello. He didn’t want to say that Donatello was the rightful prince.
“Yeah…,” Michelangelo said and then snapped his fingers, eager to change the subject. “Oh yeah!” He looked up at his brother. “I have some other news for you.”
“Good or bad,” Raphael asked.
Michelangelo shrugged. “All depends on how you look at it.”
“So…, what is it,” Raphael asked.
“Father sent out a call for you to select a mate,” Michelangelo said.
“Of course he would,” Raphael said.
“But…, here’s the good news,” Michelangelo said with a smile. “There’s a farm boy I like and you can select him.”
“A farm boy,” Raphael said eyeing his brother, “you like? And, you want him to be my lover?”
Michelangelo nodded and then started to shake his head. “Not, really. I can’t have a lover but if you take him as yours he can come to my room through the hidden hallways. Father will think you have a lover and I get to have him. It’s a win win.”
“You want to give access to the secret halls to this farm boy?” Raphael voiced his concerns.
“Yeah,” Michelangelo said with a nod.
“Are you nuts?” Raphael roared.
Michelangelo’s smile dropped. “What?”
“You don’t think that maybe this boy is taking advantage of you so he can leave the farm and live a nice cushy life here in the castle?” Raph pointed out. “Or worse, wants to gain access to the castle to hurt our family? There are a lot of families out there still loyal to the old king.”
Michelangelo shook his head. “No. He’s not like that. He doesn’t want to hurt us.”
“Really?” Raphael scoffed. “Really? People only see the crown, Mikey. They only want to be near us because of what they think they can gain. Or, they take advantage to gain access. They either want to use us or kill us.”
“Just let me have this,” Michelangelo argued, his eyes filling with tears. “You’re not ready for one yet and I want this one. This can work.”
“You know it won’t last,” Raphael said. “One day you’re going to be sent away to be with one of our cousins or father will insist I get another one and this farm boy will have to stay with me.”
“I know,” Michelangelo said softly.
Raphael sighed. “Fine. If I’m gonna have to pick one anyway…. I’ll need to see him so I’ll know who to pick.”
“I’ll go get him,” Michelangelo said as he rushed over to the hidden door. “I’ll be back shortly.”
When the door closed, Raphael turned to Donatello. “You’ll be able to stay quiet about this?”
“I have nothing to gain by telling anyone,” Donatello stated.
“I suppose,” Raphael said, looking away. “This is stupid. This guy is using Mikey, one way or another.”
Donatello thought about what Raphael had said to Michelangelo and it made him see what his anger had kept him blind to. Despite being royalty, Raphael had very little say over his own life and finding someone to trust was hard. It’s a strong possibility that he will never find someone to love him for who he is and not his title. Donatello almost felt sorry for him.
Michelangelo returned with the farm boy. He looked to be about their age, maybe a little older. He came from good stock. Clear complexion, well built, as expected for someone who does manual labor, with beautiful grey-blue eyes.
“This is Leonardo,” Michelangelo said.
Raphael looked him over. “You understand what you’re getting yourself into?”
“Michelangelo has explained it,” Leonardo replied.
“You cannot be seen being affectionate to him at all,” Raphael stated. “This whole situation is temporary. A few years, at best.”
Leonardo nodded. “I understand. I know it’s all fleeting but I want to spend as much time with Mikey as I can.”
Raphael’s jaw clenched for a moment. Donatello couldn’t tell if it was out of anger or jealousy. “Fine. I’ll select you. Now leave before someone comes in and finds you here.”
“Thanks, Raph,” Michelangelo said as he ushered Leonardo back through the hidden door. “I owe you big time.”
Looking distraught, Raphael climbed into his bed. “I need to lie down for a while.”
“Is there anything you need from me, your highness,” Donatello offered.
“No,” Raphael answered, turning his back to Donatello.
“Then I will wait until there is,” Donatello said, taking a seat.
“He called him, Mikey,” Raphael mumbled.
“Your highness?” Donatello prompted.
“Never mind,” Raph replied.
….
Leonardo stood with the other young turtles who had answered the callout. There were quite a few. Some, he had to admit, were quite attractive. While others, even if the decision hadn’t already been made, wouldn’t have stood a chance.
Raphael took his time looking them all over, making a show of it. Wise move. He didn’t want to make his selection too early. His father would suspect that he didn’t really care or that something was amiss.
They had made eye contact for a brief moment in the beginning. The subtle way the prince’s eyes narrowed told Leonardo that he had been recognized.
Leonardo wondered why Raphael seemed so angry.
Donatello stayed back but also followed the prince, ever ready to serve. Leonardo watched him for a while and wondered how different he would have been if Splinter hadn’t taken him. He couldn’t imagine what life would have been like.
“Would you like more than one,” the king asked, sounding irritated.
There was a subtle shift in Raphael’s expression and then he feigned a sigh of indifference. “This one,” he said, pointing to Leonardo. “I like his eyes.”
“Yes,” Arigio said as he moved closer. “There’s something familiar about them.”
Leonardo felt a swell of panic. Would the king recognize the similarities to Demitrio’s features, despite the disguise? Was his memory that good?
“Would you like him for yourself,” Raphael asked dryly.
Arigio chuckled. “No. He is yours.” He turned to two turtles who had been standing close by. “Take him back to the palace and have him ready by tonight.”
“Yes, my king,” one of them said before beckoning for Leonardo to follow. He was a large turtle with dark green skin, riddled with scars. He looked every part a warrior.
The other one was slightly smaller but equally menacing. Arigio’s lovers double as body guards so it made sense that they would be formidable.
“My name is Paolo,” the other one said as they walked, “and this is Lorenzo, King Arigio’s first selected.”
“We are going to get you familiar with your new life,” Lorenzo said. “There will be a grace period as you learn but you will be expected to act a certain way and preform specific duties.”
“Contrary to popular belief, it isn’t all lounging around in a pampered suite while mingling with the nobles,” Paolo said with a smile.
They entered the castle and the first place they headed to was the wash room. Lorenzo pointed to the steaming tub of water and waiting slaves. “First and foremost, you will be clean and presentable. You will bathe every morning with the princes and their slaves will tend to you.”
The pair watched Leonardo expectantly. Taking the hint, Leonardo removed his clothing as he moved towards the bath. A slave stopped him before he could enter and hastily took his measurements. She was done in a matter of seconds and Leonardo was allowed to enter the bath.
The slaves scrubbed his shell with course brushes and washed his body. When they were done they toweled him off and then rubbed him down with scented oils.
The slave who had taken his measurements waited for them in another room. She had clothes set out. “Do you have a preference,” the slave asked.
“The blue one,” Leonardo said and reached for the garment.
“The slave will dress you,” Paolo said, causing Leonardo to retract his hand. “The outfits can be difficult to fasten in some areas, so it is best to simply have the slave do it all.”
“I will no longer be dressing myself,” Leonardo asked.
“You will have casual attire before your bath and before bed,” Lorenzo said. “But, when you are dressed for the public eye, you will be dressed by a slave.”
As Leonardo was dressed and the slave altered the outfit to fit him just right, Lorenzo and Paolo ran down a list of etiquette dos and don’ts. It was almost difficult for him to keep from laughing when they told him that part of his duties would be to befriend and gather information on the nobles.
They spent the better part of the day, touring the castle and meeting important people. The entire time, Lorenzo and Paolo were correcting Leonardo’s behavior. There was a way to address people of higher stature that was different from the way to address people of lower stature.
“Do not touch your food until the prince’s slave has sampled it,” Lorenzo said as they headed to the dining hall for lunch. “You don’t need to talk to him. If you don’t like something, just don’t eat it. He will learn your preferences in time.”
“I’m not allowed to talk to him,” Leonardo asked for clarification.
“You can,” Paolo said.
“Don’t know why you would want to,” Lorenzo added dryly.
“There are some rules you have to follow with him,” Paolo said. “You need to remember that he is Prince Raphael’s slave first and foremost. You cannot give him an order that contradicts the prince’s.”
“Sex with that slave is also off limits unless the prince allows it,” Lorenzo said. “As far as slaves go, he is higher ranking. The lower slaves are fair game though. They are usually never given official tasks by the royal family.”
“The queen’s slaves are completely off limits,” Paolo added. “Don’t even talk to them.”
It was all a lot to take in at once.
They entered the dining hall and Lorenzo pointed towards where Raphael was sitting. “There’s the prince. His slave will tend to you now.”
“Thank you,” Leonardo said as the two turned to take their places next to the king.
Taking the empty seat across from Raphael, Leonardo chanced a glace at Michelangelo. The younger prince was beaming. Raphael, on the other hand, was a little more stoic.
Donatello set a plate full of food on the table and proceeded to take small bites from each item, switching out his utensil with each bite. Leonardo watched Donatello, unsure if he was supposed to take the plate or wait for it to be handed to him.
“There’s a set amount of time before he can pass you the plate,” Raphael said before biting into the roasted leg of some animal. “Poison tends to work within a few seconds, so the slaves count to thirty before handing the food over.”
“Has anyone been poisoned,” Leonardo asked, looking around to see several other slaves sampling food.
“There was one time someone poisoned father’s wine,” Michelangelo said. “Fortunately, it was a weak poison and the priestesses were able to save Nevio and three of the slaves. We lost one. The priestesses say it’s because he was a smaller human that the poison affected him more.”
“That’s terrible,” Leonardo said as Donatello slid the plate to him.
“We’re not supposed to feel bad for slaves,” Michelangelo mumbled.
The meal was richer than anything Leonardo had ever eaten and he knew better than to eat too much of it. He would need to give his system time to adjust to it. Even the baked apple for dessert was more decadent than the simple ones Splinter had made him by the fire. It had been cored, stuffed with nuts, drizzled with honey and topped with cream.
As good as it was, Leonardo could only manage a few bites before his stomach started to protest.
“I’m sure you didn’t eat like this out at your family’s farm,” Raphael said with a smile.
Leonardo chuckled. “The meals I ate were simple. Rarely did we have meat.”
“Now that you’ve been here a while, have you started to regret your decision yet,” Raphael teased. “You may be in the lap of luxury, but your life isn’t going to be completely pampered.”
“I’m used to work,” Leonardo replied. “I don’t think I would have done well if all that was required of me was to lounge around all day, doing nothing. I would have gone stir crazy.”
“There are other things you are required to do,” Raphael said in a serious tone. “Things my father has ways of knowing if they happen or not. Things we will discuss when we are in private.”
“I understand,” Leonardo replied and his stomach began to ache from more than the richness of the food. He knew what the price was implying. Ready or not, he was expected to be intimate with the prince.
The problem was, he knew next to nothing about sex.
