bringstheheat | Captive - for @icejacking

His name was Mick.

He could remember that much. A warm voice crooning to him while he was still in his shell, telling him his name and his birthright. Fire. Beautiful, changing, defining flame. They were the memories that sustained him during his capture and eventual enslavement. A half-breed was rare enough that he fetched a pretty high price on the wizarding black market and Mick despised every one of his owners.

Druse had been the worst. Denying him fire, denying him his born power. He’d tried to mold him into the perfect assassin and for the sake of only brief freedoms, Mick had played along. Choosing to answer to Chronos and assassinate anyone who got in his way. It wasn’t the best life but it gave him the freedom to fly once in a long while and Mick relished those times almost as much as when he would secretly summon fire. Kept locked away in a tower when he wasn’t needed, he could hold the fire in his hand and watch it for hours. Raw and beautiful and it was Mick’s first and only love.

Then a deal had been brokered and Mick found himself with a new owner. Whatever. New name, same demands. He knew the score by now.

What he didn’t expect was for the wizard in question to have a Tiefling for a son. And Leonard Snart was intriguing. He looked at Mick carefully, like he was a complex puzzle that required solving. A year into his tenure and they had become friends, or at least as close to friends as Mick had ever had in his life. Len never called him Chronos. He simply shrugged and asked for something to call him by and without hesitating, Mick gave him his true name. Snart was quick, intelligent and a hell of a lot better at magic than his idiot father. They’d work together on jobs, always reporting back and if Lenny started to hold back some of what they had stolen, Mick never commented on it. He might never be free, but he’d make sure Len and his sister could start their own lives.

Threaded | Flat

Len had been cursed thanks to his fathers greed and desire for power. He grew up alone, feared, ridiculed and ostracized for what he was. He learned quickly how to build a thick skin, how to take a beating and dish one out. He learned how to move through shadows and conjure magic, though he dare not let his father see him. He'd been caught once playing around with spells and ended up locked away like a prisoner for over a week.

He didn't go out much unless his father demanded it. He kept to himself and looked after his little sister, who was born a human, as he had been meant to. With their mother gone and their father scarce, Len had to raise her and take care of her on his own. He protected her from their Father's wrath when the man would come home unsatisfied with his pursuits. Nothing was ever enough and Len became the whipping boy for most of his life.

Until Mick was brought in for extra muscle. Len had never seen anyone that looked even remotely similar to how he does. Humans, Orcs, Elves, Halflings and Dwarves, but no others with horns, a tail and glowing eyes or claws like him. He knew he was more infernal than dragon, but to see someone else like him was fascinating. Maybe that's what drew him to Mick so easily, how they bonded without much more than a few words between them.

Len didn't fit in anywhere. His home wasn't his home. Even though he'd never met another Tiefling, he was an oddball even to his own kind. His skin was more of a blue tone than red and he preferred the cold to heat. He even specialized in ice spells when he could dabble in magic. His roguish nature was really the only stereotype he seemed to follow.

But even with Mick around Lewis didn't spare the rod any less. Even if his new half-dragon pet wasn't free of his ire, Len still remained a shield and something to take out his frustration on.

The half-dragon was sent along with Len to keep an eye on him, so he wouldn't stray or run, so he'd get the job done and return home successful. One too many times he'd gone out on his own and not returned for days, only to come back empty handed simply because he didn't care anymore. There were plenty of times he needed the back up, out-numbered or out-gunned and he couldn't run the risk of being caught. So the muscle was necessary, not only to keep him in line, but to keep him alive.

Enough was enough. Len couldn't stand to remain under his father's rule anymore and he sure as hell wasn't leaving the others to suffer his wrath. So he'd pocketed the keys with a deft hand and slipped out to the dank hole he kept Mick locked up in. He released him, motioning in the dark for the other to follow, silver-blue eyes glowing lightly and shifting around his surroundings. He'd snuck his sister off to safety separating her from their escape to keep their father off her trail. He'd sooner chase down his bastard son and the expensive pet he'd lost anyway.

"Stay low." He whispers, "And quiet." Sneaking out of the grounds wouldn't be easy, he knows his father sets up perimeter spells to set off alarms if they escape. The man had been paranoid and more controlling in his old age. Len would have to find the runes and disable the spells as they went, which ran the risk of setting them off if he failed to dispell it correctly.

Once the Tiefling is fed and strong enough, the pair of them will pack up the few gifts Henry Allen has given them- food, medication, a healing spell and some components- and they leave. It's another day of rest in their camp before they're taking the horse, the carriage and moving on. A few more days of travel through several small towns, through wind and rain, until they can find a place for work, a place where the people don't seem to mind two strange looking outsiders. It's temporary at best, but at least they can rest for awhile and make some coin, or at least earn their supper.

But it's not enough for Len, soon he's slipping off to one of the neighboring towns that threw them out and he's taking all that he can. He's half-tempted to let mick burn the place down as well. But they leave the small village and within the week are packing up and moving on before any word spreads about their misdeeds. He doesn't want to get their company in trouble for keeping thieves.

This goes on for some time hoping from one place to the next with he and Mick only growing closer, keeping each other alive and free and living the way they've always wanted. A tension is growing between them, want, desire and curiosity. They were both well past the age where they should've discovered themselves, both adults in their own right, but neither having the opportunity to really explore. There's a lot of pent up energy that needs released even if Len is still trying to sort himself out, he's aware of what he's feeling, had seen or learned enough to know, even if he's feeling it for the first time.

It makes things a little awkward at camp that night, they have food in their bellies and alcohol and a good haul they gathered as they are in between towns. It's just the pair of them alone in the woods with nothing much better to do. Len isn't exactly sure how to approach the subject or talk about such things with the other. But part of him wants to admit what he's been feeling for awhile now, every time they successfully steal things and escape. That freedom, the rush, it does something to him. Something potent he can't shake but has been ignoring for a time. Something he doesn't want to ignore anymore now that he knows what he wants. What he's been missing all along...

Silver-blue eyes watch the half-dragon through the flicker of the flames and for a moment he can't turn away, too mesmerized by the powerful sight of his partner and best friend. The one person in his life he can trust with it and everything that goes with that life.

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