Songbird (LAMP/Polysanders)

Chapter One

Trigger warning (Please check the first part of the book for more info)

Virgil sat his face on his hands that were currently resting on a table. His eyes stayed fixed on the flame that moved on top of the candle. 18. He was (almost) 18. It was surreal. That meant it had been 8 years since Damien had taken over, 8 years since his parents had become prisoners.

Vigil eyes flicked to the door at a creak but sighed a little when the kitchen stayed still. Eyes moving back to the candle, Virgil sat. Watching, never acting. That sentence seemed to sum up his life. Watching, listening, obeying, but never acting, not on his own. Not when it came to anything significant, that is.

Virgil huffed quietly, blowing out the candle before he got lost in his head. He ate the cupcake quickly, not bothering to savor it. The only reason he had done this much to celebrate his birthday had been for his parents. They hadn't wanted him to be miserable on his eighteenth birthday. Now he was slightly less miserable, extremely on edge, and a little less hungry.

Removing all proof that he had been in the kitchen at 1 a.m., Virgil clicked the lights off and walked to his tower, carefully avoiding the guards following the rotation Virgil knew like the back of his hand.

After climbing up the (many) stairs, Virgil collapsed onto his bed. Rolling to his side, he let out a half-hearted chuckle at the time on the clock. 2:06 a.m. Rolling onto his back, Virgil blinked back the tears in his eyes, "Happy birthday to me,"

----

When Damien had summoned Virgil to his private office the following morning, Virgil had been worried, to say the least. They had already discussed all the details of Virgil's birthday ball and his performance (which were really just excuses for Damien to throw another party and show Virgil and his abilities off) so there should have been no reason for Virgil to have seen Damien until later tonight.

"Your Majesty?" Virgil asked, entering Damien's study, the guard closing the door behind him with a resounding slam.

Virgil could hear the smirk in Damien's voice as he turned his chair to face the boy, "Ah, Virgil, please have a seat," he said, pointing to the small couch that sat across from the king. Virgil, albeit reluctantly, sat himself on the couch, staying rigid and alert.

It was silent for a few more seconds as Damien finished whatever he had been working on previously before he turned to Virgil, "I wanted to discuss the ball tonight..." he trailed off and Virgil resisted the urge to groan. Why couldn't he just get to the point?

"You see, I have been discussing with the visiting diplomats and some have expressed their interest in a... special performance of sorts,"

"What do you mean?" Virgil asked, feeling the anxiety settle in the pit of his stomach.

"It's simple really; you would sing to those who are interested, in the same way you do for Remus and me occasionally," Virgil stopped breathing; Damien meant that kind of singing. The kind that, once Virgil had turned 16, Damien and Remus took advantage of regularly. But this was new. Virgil had never done it for anybody besides the two Kings. Damien and Remus were... possessive, Virgil supposed. So why would they be willing to share him now?

Virgil couldn't refuse. He had never been able to refuse. But, he could negotiate, "What do I get from this?" He questioned, clenching his jaw.

Damien laughed daintily, before resting his chin on crossed fingers, "Well Songbird," Virgil resisted the urge to shiver, "You and your parents shall continue to live,"

Virgil laughed dryly, hiding his shaking hands under the desk, "Nice try. I haven't fallen for that since I was twelve. You kill my parents, you have no leverage to make me sing. You kill me, you lose me and my voice. Regardless, you lose your precious Songbird, and you wouldn't dare risk that, would you Damien?"