Notes: These characters are not mine, they belong to the lovely and talented Kaori Yuki. I am just borrowing them. This story is dedicated to my friend, Isabel, and was written for her as a birthday gift. Happy Birthday! Also, C&C welcome.





Stars Untouchable



"Katan!"

I hear his voice as he storms down the hall to my room. I pretend not to hear him. Maybe he will turn and go, leaving me to my work. I have so many reports to write, and I am running out of time to write them in.

Why do I bother hoping? When he is in this mood, nothing will distract him.

My door flies open, hitting the wall with a loud bang. I turn in my chair to see him standing there, hair only just settling around his lithe and graceful form, a pronounced frown marring the beauty of his face. My Master, my Lord. Rosiel-sama.

"Attend me in my room, Katan," he demands, before whirling on his heel and storming off. I must not delay. If I do not follow his orders immediately, he will be angry with me as well.

Slowly I stand up and make my way to his lavish bedroom. As I step in the door, he is standing there, waiting for me impatiently. Obediently, I turn and lock the door behind me. This is all he needs me to do, before he takes over. Viciously, he lunges at me, devouring my mouth with his own, tearing at my clothes and tossing them aside.

Always, the same thing. Something said at a council meeting upsets him, and he uses me for comfort.

As he shoves me onto the bed, I think wistfully of how things used to be between us. He was my father, my protector. He would never have done these things to me.

It is not rape. I give myself to him willingly, if only to quell his pain for a brief moment. However, my love for him has never been sexual. He is my father, my mentor, my friend, and, when I am in a more silly and romantic mood, my soul mate. Never have I wanted him to be my lover. Never. And certainly never like this.

He slips out of his clothes, and the moonlight glistens on his pale skin. I still believe he is the most radiant angel in Heaven. His long, silver hair brushes against my skin as he crawls on top of me, kissing, biting. I take no pleasure in these nights of passion and rage.

Without bothering to prepare me, he thrusts into me, desperately trying to find some measure of control in a world that has spun into chaos around him. His long nails gouge my flesh, leaving me bleeding. Occasionally, he will scratch me enough that the dried blood will leave me stuck to the sheets the next morning.

I lie limp beneath him, accepting this treatment. It is nothing to me. I serve him. That is my duty, and if he wishes to take me to bed with him, I will oblige his wishes. I love him.

Though I know it must have been much longer, it seems like only seconds have passed before he climaxes, and collapses on top of my body, sweaty and shaking. Is he crying?

"Rosiel-sama," I murmur, wrapping my arms around him.

"I have become horrible, Katan," he whispers, burying his face in my chest.

"No, Rosiel-sama. You could never be horrible." I lie. He knows I lie. Yet we pretend it is the truth.

Wearily, he climbs up the bed until he is resting beside me, looking into my eyes. His hand, gentle now, traces my face. There is a tender warmth in his eyes. Yes. This is how it should be between us. This love and comfort.

"Without you, I would truly be lost," he tells me.

"And without you, my life would have no meaning," I reply.

"We need each other."

"Yes," I agree, that simply.

He smiles at me one more time, before he curls up against me. I wrap one arm around him, pulling the blankets up around us with my free hand. Then I hold him tightly, resting my chin on top of his head.

"I will clean up your wounds tomorrow morning," he promises, tracing one of the marks with his long fingers.

He says that every time, but he rarely does. Usually, he is gone when I wake. However, I do not point this out. "Thank you, Rosiel-sama."

This part of our ritual completed, he falls asleep in my arms. I twine my fingers into his hair, and stay awake, staring out the window at the brilliant stars. Heaven is so high above the Earth, and yet, still we are not high enough to touch the stars. They shimmer above us, offering solace, beauty and purity, and yet we cannot reach them. Perhaps we, as angels, are not yet pure enough to attain that radiance.

My eyes fall to the strands of silver spread out on the pillows. In the dim light, the strands glisten like stars. Once, I thought Rosiel-sama as pure as I now find stars. Maybe, since my initial hopes were dashed, I cast my sight on something that could never let me down. Never betray my trust. The stars cannot hurt me.

They are too far away.