0.See previous chapters for disclaimers and warnings.0

"Simply because you are…infatuated with me?"

Elyon stilled for a moment, silent and ashamed, but managed to nod into her pillow.

"Well that's positively the most pathetic thing I've ever heard!" Phobos chimed gleefully, clapping his hands as he chuckled. Well wasn't life full of surprises?

Renewing her sobs, Elyon tried to crawl away from him in her anguish. How could she bear to look at him now, after he knew everything?

"No, no, no," snatching her by the ankle, Phobos pulled her back while waggling one long finger at her. She slid easily over the silken sheets of her bed and didn't' resist as he rolled her over to face him. He tsk-ed as if scolding her, "You stay close, little sister. Can't have you getting out of range," and he held the Petallic Megnu up to her face. "I cannot help wondering what your precious, little Guardian friends would think if they knew the truth, that their captive savior is an all too willing captive and not so much a savior," he mock-cooed at her, wiping her tearstained cheeks as he hovered over her, "They'd hate you, obviously, especially if they knew why-."

The Prince's sadistic taunting was abruptly interrupted by the chiming of Elyon's silver clock. In unison, they both glanced up at it, eerily quiet and waiting for the rings to finish sounding. When it did, there was a strange echo that remained in the stony silence of the moonlit chamber. Midnight…

"Well," Elyon spoke sarcastically and that tragic look of resolve resurfaced on her face, "Happy birthday to me."

"Yes, happy birthday," Phobos sneered, glancing down at her and noticing just how close he was to his sister. Her tears had made her cheeks pink and eyes sparkle. She was one of those uncanny, pretty weepers that possessed the strange ability to only appear more attractive when she cried her eyes out. Still gasping after her sobs, Elyon's breath slightly tickled his face. He still held her by the shoulders and his body partially pressed against her laid out form. Suddenly, he was acutely aware of her thin nightshift and the tempting heat her body was producing, not to mention the firm curves he could feel mold into him. Without seeming to realize it, one of his hands released the shoulder he'd been squeezing and slowly caressed down her bare arm.

"I'm glad it's you," she muttered meekly.

This snapped him out of his trance and he quirked one expectant eyebrow at her. (For her part, Elyon had to suppress a shiver; she always adored it when he looked inquisitive.)

"I only mean, I'm glad," she took a long, significant glance at the Petallic Megnu near her shoulder, "that you're doing it, not one of your cronies. I don't think I could have tolerated Cedric assassinating me. He thinks he's so sly and so full of it, when all this was your planning. It's irritating really." Blinking down at her, Phobos was vaguely proud that not only did she give him credit for his scheming, but that she also managed to drawl so much like himself. They really were brother and sister.

And on that note, he decided to end it once and for all. "Shall we finish this, Queen Sister?" slowly, he dragged the cursed blade over her shoulder and down her chest, until it rested over her hammering heart. The heaving of her breasts was admittedly a slight distraction for Phobos.

The smallest nod was the only ascent she gave. Two more tears dropped from her sparkling, blues eyes as she whispered more to herself than to him, "Back on Earth, even as a little girl, I knew I didn't really belong there. I used to dream that a handsome prince would appear and rescue me." Phobos wrapped his hands around the Petallic Megnu's hilt and flexed his arms, ready to drive the blade straight into her soul. "And then you came, but instead of freeing me, you captured me like a bird in a cage," Elyon's fingers abruptly wrapped around Phobos' and he tensed thinking she intended to stop him, but instead, she squeezed his hands. She was helping to guide him. "It took some time," she whispered, one last tear finally cresting her fair cheek, "but I realize now, that it's the exact same thing. Isn't it?"

Phobos didn't really care for metaphors, but he nodded to her nonetheless. "Goodbye Elyon," and his tenor farewell caressed her like chilly silk.

"Goodbye Phobos."

And because (as stated before) Phobos always appreciated a certain degree of dramatics, he leaned over to give her one last, parting kiss. The final token of a brother's supposed affection…

Well, theoretically it was a fraternal kiss, but somewhere between the cliché farewells and its actual execution, it became something else entirely. He felt something inside him snap as uncontrolled and possessive as his famous temper.

His mouth sealed violently over hers and he used her sequential gasp to his full advantage, slipping his slick tongue between her lips and stroking greedily against hers. Tangling his empty hand in her hair, Phobos yanked roughly and angled her head back so he could delve deeper into her mouth. Elyon had one moment of numbing shock, before she eagerly returned his embrace. This was technically her first kiss and for an amateur, what she lacked in experience she more than made up for in enthusiasm. Her small fists clenched Phobos' robes and tugged his body closer to her. Feverishly, she tried to keep up with his demanding lips and even instinctively arched her back to press against him.

How long had she dreamed about this moment, never actually believing that it was ever truly possible? All those years of swallowing her hope and eating shame- yet here they were, together and altogether forbidden. Her Phobos, at long last, hers.

When Elyon bent her leg and started coyly caressing his hip with her thigh, Phobos finally pulled away from her, growling and prying her fingers off his clothes when she attempted to stay him. He begrudgingly ignored the fact that he was hard and ready and aching. His eyes were half-lidded and glaring at her swollen lips and flushed cheeks, while he loomed darkly over her. "You've no idea what you're asking for," he snarled, scowling.

But Elyon was a queen by birth and when her royal blood boiled for something as desperately as she had been yearning for Phobos over all these years, she was not easily swayed, especially since she was so close to having him. Wordlessly, her fingers flew to Phobos' collar and started unfastening his robes. He stared mutely down at her moving hands as she undressed him. His gaze then fell on the Petallic Megnu that he still clutched loosely in his hand. It was thrumming with dark magic, even stronger than before, angered at being ignored for so long. "Oh," he rolled his green eyes to the ceiling and moaned in surrender, "fuck it." He threw the cursed blade away.

Quickly, his fingers joined Elyon's in frantically removing his princely robes.

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It was by far the dirtiest sex Phobos had ever participated in (and that was really saying something). It wasn't even as if Elyon and he had attempted anything that imaginative; the simple fact of the matter was that sex with one's sister is quintessentially perverse by its very nature, no matter what traditional position the actual fornication was spent in. Who knew incest was so hot? He chuckled at this thought and felt Elyon moan pleasantly as she snuggled tighter against his chest. The sweat started to cool on their feverish skin and Phobos tugged a silk sheet over their entwined bodies.

There had been an unforeseen benefit to bedding the Queen of Meridian, unforeseen, but certainly not unwelcome.

Phobos felt it, Elyon's powers literally pulsing through him. It was an enormous amount of energy for just under an hour's worth of absorption. He estimated that he received about twice as much magic from one night of Elyon's passion, than from an entire week of Elyon's throne or soaking in the Black Spring. Closing his eyes, he tried to sense and gauge Elyon's remaining power and was pleasantly surprised to discover that her energy was replenishing faster than ever before.

Hadn't he read about this somewhere? Something about the queens of Meridian having very potent sexual power? Something to do with the commune of nature or the essence of life or the very basis of her subconscious instincts or something equally granola like that. Whatever it was, it certainly sounded familiar; needless to say he was going to have to study up on the subject, though little had been written on the matter. (It would've not only been a sensitive subject, but also a mute one, considering that no Meridian Queen had ever wedded a sorcerer who was capable of absorbing her energy; it was forbidden…except for their mother of course, but she hadn't known the origin of their father when she married the man and…well, that's another story.)

So Elyon had not only proven that she was still very useful, but that she could also be extremely…entertaining. When the girl had finally climaxed under Phobos' talented ministrations, clutching at him and crying out his name, a wave of raw power had surged through Phobos so fiercely that he was almost overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of it. If he had been any less of a sorcerer and not of the royal blood line, he probably wouldn't have been able to handle it, but not only did he keep his bearings, he also set about making Elyon come again- to prove that it wasn't some weird fluke, of course. He was not disappointed the second time around either.

Still, super Meridian powers or not, sex was still sex and Phobos desperately needed a nap before he went experimenting with his newly absorbed energy. Succumbing to slumber, his last amused thought was, 'Whatever would Mother say?'

Elyon stayed awake, dreamily braiding their hair together.

0000000

As Phobos abruptly awoke, his entire body tensed and he kept his eyes tightly shut. The first thing he noticed was the lack of Elyon's body heat next to him. 'Fool!' he viscously chastised himself, 'How could you have let your guard down? You were attempting to kill the girl only a few hours ago and then what did you do? You let yourself be seduced! Why did you fall asleep, you imbecile? She's probably escaping right now or rousing some help. Bloody hell knows what she'll claim you did to her!'

But all those panicked thoughts flew away as Phobos heard the telltale scritch-scratch of Elyon's pencil on paper. Warily, he opened his eyes.

Wearing Phobos' black undershirt (and looking positively sexy in it), Elyon was perched on a chair about five meters from the bed. She was sitting on her feet and using her knees to prop up her sketchbook. Next to her, she was levitating a candle, using its dim light to study Phobos. Her hair was still tangled and messed from their romp and he spotted several of his more aggressive love bites gracing her skin. Not to mention, the red of her neck that was rubbed raw from the burn of his goatee, where he had tucked his head as he thrust madly against her.

Elyon suddenly muttered something and annoyed, erased a mistake in her drawing.

Phobos was laying upon his stomach, one arm tucked under his pillow and the other dangled carelessly off the bed. His legs were outstretched and languid, one was bent slightly to the side. His hair splayed out over his bare back and onto the bed in long, white tendrils that shimmered in the intimate mixture of moonlight and candlelight. (Unbeknownst to Phobos, there were several long, thin scratches cresting the curve of his back where Elyon had dragged her fingernails in the throes of passion.) His nude physique was defined and shapely like granite, while his skin was soft and pale like porcelain. During his nap, he had kicked off the sheets, so that now he lay completely naked and exposed. He made quite a pretty picture, if he did say so himself! Apparently, Elyon was thinking in the same fashion, because her eyes were hard and shining with inspiration and she would occasionally bite or lick her lips in concentration. The Prince realized, not unpleasantly, that this was the first nude portrait he'd ever posed for.

Her eyes finally wandered back up to his face and she gave a start when she realized he was awake and watching her. "Don't move!" she held out her hand and much to Phobos' surprise, he indulged her by holding still, "Please don't move. I'm almost finished, I promise." Feverishly, she returned to her sketchpad, laying the final touches on her picture.

He waited semi-patiently, his vanity making him obey. Staring abashedly right back at Elyon, Phobos realized that she resembled their mother less and less as she grew older, which pleased him. Obviously, he hadn't cared much for the woman and the less Elyon looked like her the better. He might hazard a guess and say she was starting to resemble their father, but Phobos wasn't even sure if he even resembled their father. He only met the man once and the circumstances were not ideal…

"Paithos?" the sound of his mother's voice startled Phobos who had been too distracted to feel her approach, "My god, Paithos how did you- you shouldn't be here!"

It was dark in the castle corridor and Phobos still wore his hair short. For a split second, the Queen hadn't seen her son at all, but her estranged husband, however impossible that was. So she had finally confused him for his father, it was the first time she had ever said the man's given name to their own son. Such an ironic case of mistaken identity, considering where he'd just been.

"Try again, Queen Mother," Phobos barked back, angry that his voice gave away the fact that he was upset.

"Oh," and her own voice became noticeably detached and distant like it always did whenever she talked with her son, "Phobos. What is the matter? You look troubled-." With a wave of her hand, the hall was illuminated as the mounted torches lit themselves.

"I have seen my father," interrupting her, Phobos practically hissed as venomous as ever, "It was vile! He is unshaven, unwashed, barely fed. And there he rots in that disgusting prison cell by your orders since the day I was born-!"

"How dare you enter the oubliette without my permission!" she rose to her full height and out of habit and courtly etiquette, Phobos fell obediently silent, "How did you even gain entrance? It is well guarded and you are not allowed access. Shall I guess how you managed? You've been using the craft, haven't you?" She shook her head in defeat, more disappointed than angry, "Phobos, it is forbidden, I have commanded you over and over never to use your sorcery. What must I do to make you understand?"

"Well," coldly, Phobos said, "if Queen Mother desires, she may cast me into the oubliette as well. After all, I am not needed now that Queen Mother is with child. Yes, I know, so do not bother to insult my intelligence with your feeble denials. I would question the thing's very legitimacy, but according to my sources you have been visiting my father in his imprisonment as filthy as that must've been for you, considering the conditions I found him in. Admittedly, I could not deduce the reason for your sudden reconciliation, but now the plot is absolutely clear. You finally surrendered your futile attempts to annul your marriage with the man, so you used him to sire another heir, one that was not me. Lucky for you it shall be female this time around."

The Queen of Meridian gasped rather ungracefully and the slightest touch of fear rose into her beautiful face. The Oracle had only predicted the child's sex that very morning. "How?" she inched closer to her son, "How did you know?"

"As you said," he didn't resist when she touched his shoulder in a sad attempt at motherly affection, but the effect came off as pathetically awkward, "I am not without my resources."

"Little Prince," it was his childhood nickname and he grimaced at it; it was the only term of endearment his mother had ever used on him, "Try to understand, I loved your father once-."

"If you are truly capable of committing such atrocities upon those you love," the sheer hatred etched upon his face and soaked within his words made the Queen of Meridian recoil from him, "I pray that I may never be among them!"

"How can you say that?" a tear ran down her pretty cheek and Phobos barely suppressed the urge to strike her, "I've always loved yo-." With one vicious glare from her son, the profession died on her lips…they both knew it was a lie. She began to cry openly. What sort of monstrous woman felt no love for her son? The guilt in her was like poison.

"Would you like to know the worst part of all, Queen Mother?" he drawled and the fact that he was so unemotional truly frightened her, "The fool still loves you. He really believes you mean to reconcile, that soon you will send for him and all will be forgiven. Pathetic. And might I add, he was not at all the traitor that you and your conspirators would have me believe his is. I daresay you have no other subject as loyal as him." Phobos added as an afterthought, "He didn't even know me when he saw me, but I set him straight…about everything-."

"Your Majesty," the Queen's Captain of the Royal Guard burst in, shouting, "It is the Lord Consort, he is-!" Upon seeing Phobos and unconsciously glaring at the Prince, the Captain fell quickly silent.

"What about him?" Phobos barked, sneering right back at the glorified guard.

Ignoring him (because it was well known that openly disrespecting the Prince was a slight courtly faux pas, but it held little actual consequence; a male heir to Meridian was a useless thing), the Captain gazed upon the Queen of Meridian and waited for her to dismiss her son.

"Speak," she surprised them both by not sending him away.

Though against his better judgment, the Guard obeyed the Queen. "Sir Lord Paithos, the Royal Consort," he glanced warily at Phobos, but continued, "is dead, your Majesty."

"What-," she choked on her own words. A cold flush like ice water was suddenly coursing through her veins and she felt a terrible pull at her heart. Oh Paithos…why?

But Phobos was booming for her, "What the hell do you mean dead? He was alive not one hour ago!"

"Yes he was," the Captain openly scowled at Phobos. "But according to his private guard, immediately after your importune visit, he was heard weeping and then," his voice softened as he faced the Queen, pity in his eyes, "He hanged himself with his chains. I am sorry, my Queen. It is the fault of my men, they should've been more vigilant." Kneeling upon the stone floor, the Captain bent his head in shame.

"You-."

"You," both Queen and Prince faced each other, shock and loss reflected in each other's faces.

"You killed your father."

"You killed my father," they both said in unison.

And in way, they were both right.

Bitterly, Phobos pulled himself from his memories. "Did you feel it?" he asked Elyon seemingly out of nowhere.

Pausing the movement of her pencil, Elyon stared dumbly back at him. It took her moment to understand what he was referring to and when she did, she blushed rather shyly. "You mean my powers? Oh yes," she purred, "I felt it." She meaningfully put her sketchbook aside and crawled onto the bed, sitting next to Phobos. "All done," she flashed the picture at him and Phobos couldn't help but be impressed by her artistic abilities. Rolling onto his side, the Prince propped himself up by the elbow and examined his portrait. He nodded his approval; even when he had been plotting against her, he could always admit that she was very talented. "Did you feel it?" she traced the muscled sculpture of his abdomen, grinning to herself as he shivered pleasantly.

"Do you mean the ungodly amount of energy you produced and I suffered to absorb?" he chuckled darkly, "Oh yes, Elyon, I most certainly felt that."

"Suffered, uh?" teasingly, she danced her fingernails along his ribs in an attempt to tickle him, but apparently the Prince was not ticklish. "It was different from the throne," she mused, leaning over him, "Sometimes I barely even noticed the throne draining my powers." (Phobos quirked an irritated eyebrow, because he thought his 'throne ruse' had gone completely undetected by Elyon.) "But when you started absorbing my energy directly, it was…so-," struggling for words, she took one of his hands, "so intimate, I was so vulnerable and helpless…it was almost like you were violating me." Elyon pointedly slipped Phobos' hand inside her shirt and pressed his palm against her breast.

"Mmm," he moaned with her as he squeezed and caressed her flesh, "and how did you like violation, dear sister?"

"Well I-, ah!" gasping, Elyon threw her head back, when Phobos sat up and tugged the undershirt down so he could kiss and suck at her bare breasts. "Let's just say that I would gladly serve the Prince in the future whenever he requires more of my powers," she arched her back, grinding against that sinful mouth of his, and added slyly, "That is of course, if the Prince permits me to live…"

Abruptly, Phobos halted his ministrations and glared up at Elyon's flushed, smiling, and altogether too innocent face. "If I didn't know better," he scowled and Elyon shivered happily, (she also liked it when he looked pissed, which was quite often), "I would accuse you of having planned all this."

Suddenly very serious, Elyon gently pushed Phobos onto his back and gracefully straddled his stomach. She held his suspicious gaze as she removed the black undershirt and sat upon him completely naked. He couldn't help but to reach greedily for her soft thighs. "If I had ever dreamed that there was even a remote possibility that this would happen, do you really think I would've spent all those years torturing myself? Hating myself for loving you so much," she tenderly touched his face and neck.

"I've always loved yo-." His mother couldn't even finish the damn sentence and here was the woman's daughter, pressing her naked sex against her brother and professing her devotion with absolute sincerity. And strangest of all, was that Phobos was daring to believe her, which immediately peeked his paranoia.

"You do realize, of course, that your daily freedoms will be drastically restricted now?" he watched her for any sign of resentment, but there was only total obedience in her eyes, "You'll be under constant surveillance. You know my secrets, my schemes, my plans. I cannot permit you to use them against me. I must always be suspicious of you."

"Yes," she started grinding her hips against him.

"You're still my prisoner," he growled and gripped her waist in a bruising embrace, "You must obey me, always. Swear it, Elyon."

"I swear it," closing her eyes in bliss, she shivered when she felt his obvious arousal pressed against her thigh, "Yes, Phobos, yes forever."

"Very well," Phobos smirked and abruptly flipped them over so he was crushing Elyon into the mattress, "I shall permit you to live." Settling between her legs, the Prince kissed his Queen fervently, lapping loud and wet kisses against her lips. Elyon tangled her fingers in his hair and wrapped her legs around his hips, but he would not satisfy her yet. He wanted to tease her for awhile…after all, he was her big brother.

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Elyon's eighteenth birthday celebration was a marvel and shock to say the least. All over the kingdom, peasant and rebel and noble alike were surprised that the Queen was still alive on the day she took full power over the Meridian government. Everyone had expected her brother to have assassinated her long before now, yet there she was, healthy and waving merrily at her people. For the first time, in a long while, the people of Meridian saw a bit of light at the end of the tunnel. Perhaps there was hope for the future, perhaps Phobos' evil influence wasn't all powerful, perhaps their Queen really was a savior…

That is until Elyon announced that Prince Phobos was being appointed Royal Advisor with full administrative authority and her Royal Seal was bestowed upon him in a formal ceremony. So nothing really changed that day.

Expect for Elyon, of course. In her heart, she had betrayed everything she had ever known, her parents, her friends, even her people. Yet the guilt and shame that had been her constant companions for four years were gone now, vanished like a nightmare at daybreak. Her conscious was content. During the day, her sins were disguised in pretty doll's dresses of silk and velvet and at night, her sins were washed away in the sweat and seed of her brother.

Now she was as guilty as Phobos.

They really were brother and sister.

For thee, my own sweet sister, in thy heart

I know myself secure, as thou in mine;

We were and are --- I am, even as thou art ---

Beings who ne'er each other can resign;

It is the same, together or apart ---

From Life's commencement to its slow decline

We are entwined --- let Death come slow or fast,

The tie which bound the first endures the last !

--Lord Byron 1816, to his sister, Augusta Leigh…also rumored to be his lover.

Author's Note: I'm fascinated by the dynamics between Phobos and Elyon and am frustrated that the relationship was never further explored on the show. (Not that I seriously expected anything as twisted as what I've presented, but a little more drama and history between the two would've been welcome.) Consequently, I'll probably write more to this 'one-shot', but nothing of plot substance, probably just drabbles and one-chapter anecdotes. We'll see…

Phobos demands you REVIEW…

BTW: When I wrote, Who knew incest was so hot, I could not stop laughing. I can't believe I wrote that. Man I'm twisted…