*This one-shot is set in a steampunk AU. If anyone has read the story 'Our Duty', you'll be familiar with it. This is actually set directly after the events of 'Our Duty', however you don't have to have read it first; this can just as easily be read as a stand-alone.

However, if you have read 'Our Duty' already, it might be an idea to re-read the prologue. I've added something in so that this story makes sense. Anyway, here goes. Warnings for one slightly NSWF scene (hence the mature rating) but it is very inexplicit.)

Tsvetan- Bulgaria*

The brightness of the morning seemed a mockery to Kiku.

The sun was unforgivably blinding- spilling rays of golden hope onto his eyelashes. He had to shield his face with his hands all the way to the depot, and even then the corners of his eyes felt crinkled. It was a calm sort of morning too. There was barely a breeze in the air, almost like the world was holding its breath. That, Kiku considered more appropriate.

He'd been holding his own breath for over a week now; anticipating a moment that he feared would never come.

Kiku and the rest of the amateur recruits were only twenty minutes through their first drill the interruption came. It started with a rumbling outside and the drone of rotating propellers gradually coming to a stop. A few of the recruits exchanged glances. There wasn't anything unusual about an airship landing, certainly, but here by the barracks? At this time of the day? The low murmur which swept over the ranks supported Kiku's suspicions. Something was up.

A couple of minutes later, the training room door burst open. The High Commander himself, Alfred F. Jones, stood in the doorway, appearing his usual boisterous and animated self. No, perhaps that wasn't quite right, Kiku reflected. That blaze in his eye wasn't merely a look of excitement- it was sheer jubilation. The ranks buzzed with something far more than a mutter this time.

"Sorry to interrupt, Sargent, dude," Jones said breathlessly, "But, boy, have I got some news for you. For all of you."

Kiku wasn't sure whether it was because of the Commander's tone or the way he was gesturing enthusiastically, but his heart began to beat a violent tattoo against his chest. Could it really be…? After all this time?

"That kid Borisov has returned at last!" Jones grinned wildly. "Thought'cha all might like to come give him a proper welcome back. He's sure as hell to appreciate it."

The words seemed to lift a weight from Kiku's shoulders. He felt so much lighter all of a sudden; happier than he'd been in weeks. If Captain Borisov had returned, surely that meant… that had mean…

Ahead of him, there was a scramble as several recruits surged forwards in a disorganised mass. Noise exploded over the room; a blend of cheering and excited chatter.

"Properly now!" the Sargent snapped, "Come on, form a line. And try to be quiet about it, please!"

Kiku had never been one for drawing much attention to himself, but his instinct at that moment was to run straight out of the training room. He'd been waiting for this news for so long that it all felt unreal now. Adrenaline gushed to his legs, willing him to discover the truth with his own eyes. Instead, he feigned patience and took his place in the queue. Please let him be there too, he prayed, Please, please, please.

By the time he pushed through the door, a large crowd was already swarming the airship so that most of the gondola was obscured from view. There was one thing that Kiku could tell immediately upon looking at the airbag, though; this wasn't the ship they had set out in. The thought niggled uncomfortably in his mind.

He considered trying to squeeze his way to the front when a carrying voice caught his attention.

"No, no. Really, I'm fine, just let me… I'll be alright, there's no need to-"

The crowd parted and a man emerged from the centre looking flustered, broken and racked with unease. It took a moment before Kiku recognised him as Tsvetan Borisov. Captain Tsvetan Borisov, one of the most talented and assured young pilots in the whole army. Or at least he had been, two weeks ago. Now, he wasn't even wearing his uniform.

When Tsvetan caught sight of him staring, his face fell. His body appeared to shrink inside itself and his unsteady smile shattered into tiny pieces.

"Heracles." Kiku said immediately, "Where is Heracles? He came with you, didn't he? Didn't he?"

Tsvetan wouldn't even look at him. "Kiku, I… I'm sorry." His hands were thrust deeply into the pockets of his trousers. "I really, really am."

Kiku's heart lurched horribly. "I don't understand what you mean. Heracles was with you, he was part of your crew, he…"

He trailed off as Tsvetan refused to reply and scanned the crowd, half-expecting the man he was waiting for to materialise out of nowhere. A painful lump stuck in his throat. Please let him come, please, please.

"Kiku," Tsvetan was reaching underneath his shirt, pulling out something clenched inside his fist. Something small. "Here. This belongs to you, I think."

He pressed it into Kiku's waiting hands. A tiny metal swallow swooped against his palm, fused on the top of a silver ring. The most precious treasure in the entire world. As Kiku cradled it in his hands he suddenly knew what must have happened on the mission. Suddenly knew that Heracles wouldn't be coming back.

He opened his mouth to speak but no words came. His tears were already talking for him.

- 1 -

Kiku watched his cousin dying by candlelight.

For hours Yong Soo lay swathed in the bedcovers, eyes squeezed closed and teeth clenched together. His shivering was ceaseless- like his whole body was vibrating- but whenever Kiku put a hand to his forehead, it burned with a sticky, feverish heat.

"Stay back." Yao warned, pushing him away from the bedside, "I don't want you to have to see this. You- you're just a child."

Just a child. The argument sounded ridiculous to Kiku. His classmates had been 'just children' too and so had all the boys down the street. That hadn't stopped them falling sick when the fever swept through the country. That hadn't stopped them dying.

He chewed the tip of his tongue while Yao placed another damp cloth on Yong Soo's forehead.

"Why are you doing that, Cousin Yao?"

"Why am I doing what?"

"Pretending you can heal him." Kiku might only be ten years old, but he wasn't stupid. It had been three years since the sickness emerged and in that time he'd seen death after death played out exactly like this one. "I know that he is going to die."

"D-don't say that!" Yao dropped to his knees and pulled Kiku close. "You mustn't ever give up hope, Kiku. Ever."

Kiku could feel his cousin's anxious heartbeat pounding against his back. It sounded more like Yao was trying to convince himself than him.

A rasping cough from the bed caught their attention. Yong Soo had rolled over to their side, his breathing increasingly laboured. The cloth had slipped from the forehead and Kiku could almost count every bead of sweat that clung to his skin. His whole appearance was shrunken; his frail body more like a child's than a young adult's. Even the curl that stuck out at the side of his hair seemed wilted.

Clutching onto each other, Yao and Kiku listened intently in the gloom. Yong Soo's breaths became more and more ragged, fading to mere whispers. A moment later, they stopped altogether. Kiku looked up, watching the candlelight cast shadows over his cousins' pale, dead skin.

"No!" Yao groaned. He took Yong Soo's limp hand desperately into his own. "Stay with us, brother. A- aru!"

But Kiku knew that it was no use. Yao must be able to tell that there wasn't a pulse at Yong Soo's wrist. As his cousin began to whimper, he wondered why he himself felt unmoved. Perhaps it was because he had known all along that this was inevitable.

Over time, Yao's sobs turned to small hiccupping gulps. With Kiku's help, he spread out the bedsheets and covered the body. Yong Soo's hand still hung out at the side, looking like it had been broken off a child's toy. Only now did Kiku notice that he was wearing his ring; the one with the silver swallow on top. The one that was supposed to bring him luck.

Yao picked up his hand again and slipped the ring from his finger.

"Won't he need that?" Kiku asked as his cousin tucked his arm back under the bedcovers, "He will have to be lucky if he's going to the afterlife."

"Well, we need it more." Yao dried his eyes on his sleeve and stood up. "We're going on a journey."

Kiku's mouth dropped open. He'd never been on a journey anywhere before. His cousins always used to tell him tales of distant countries outside of the Empire of Lawes and he'd dreamed of visiting them. But he'd never truly believed it could be possible.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

Yao glanced back towards the bed where his brother's body lay. A single tear arched down his cheek.

"Anywhere but here."

- 2 -

One place away from the front of the line, Kiku waited in silence and held his cousin's hand. It felt like they'd been forced to queue for eternity now, but compared to the months spent travelling, this was nothing.

"It will be worth it in the end," Yao frequently told him every time he had complained about his feet, or when they'd been forced to hitch off another airship, "When we get to the Republic of Hepworth, then you'll understand why we're doing this."

So far, Kiku had been standing by the border of this new country for a total of fifteen minutes. He still didn't understand yet. The ground looked just as muddy and infertile on the other side. The skies were the same dismal a shade of grey in the great Republic of Hepworth as they were here.

"Hepworth is a much more stable country than Lawes." Yao had explained when he asked why they were headed there, "No sickness, no civil war; we can be safe at last."

Kiku wasn't sure whether it was simply because they looked different, but the guards over the border didn't make him feel safe. The many bronze studs and buttons on their green uniforms seemed to flash at him like pairs of menacing eyes. He shuddered.

One of the guards was loudly arguing with the man who had been in front of them in the queue. Their shouts echoed to Kiku's side, sounding fierce and alien. Since they were speaking in the language of the lower realms, he couldn't understand what they were saying but Yao looked troubled by the exchange. Eventually, the man was dragged off towards a military building by one of the young guardsmen. He resisted all the way, yelling and writhing and digging his heels into the ground. Yao's grip on Kiku's hand was so tight now that it almost felt painful.

"Next!"

Kiku understood what that word meant. It was the word they shouted every time they wanted someone at the head of the queue to move forward. Trembling slightly, he followed his cousin's lead and shuffled over the boarder.

There were two guards managing the counter they stopped by. One had a stubbly chin and several protruding curls that reminded Kiku of Yong Soo. The other's hair was a silky golden-brown, neatly brushed over to one side, and his jaw thickset. Kiku stared at him. He couldn't have been more than five or six years older than he was, but was already playing the soldier.

The older guard addressed them roughly in his own language. Yao replied in halting lower-realms tongue and Kiku recognised both of their names as well as the word for 'Lawes'. Whatever he said didn't seem to satisfy the guard, though, for his expression darkened. His response was angry, with lots of gesturing back towards the border and he finished off by spitting pointedly at their feet. Kiku gazed at the lump of saliva in the mud. Was this the welcome they had run away for?

Yao argued back, speaking faster and more urgently. More fearfully too. His protests sounded like a blur of foreign sounds to Kiku, but there was one word among them which he knew, repeated over and over. The word for 'please'.

Suddenly, the young guard spoke up. He didn't address Yao, but his companion, and his tone almost sounded like he was trying to reason with him. A couple of times, he pointed at Kiku. The older guard rubbed his bristles thoughtfully and glanced at Yao, asking him a question. His cousin hung his head, but nodded. The smallest, most reluctant of nods that Kiku had ever seen.

Kiku tugged at his shirt. "What's happening?"

"They won't take us, Kiku." Yao explained gently, "The guard said that the people from Lawes are scum and that he doesn't want any more of us clogging up his country. But this kind, young officer wants to give you a chance. He says he can take you to the capital- they've got an orphanage there where they train young soldiers and pilots." he gave his hand a squeeze, "Only you, though."

Kiku's heart dropped like a stone. "No! I can't go without you!"

"You must." Yao said, "It doesn't matter about me, I only want you to safe and happy. This is the only chance I've got to make that happen."

The older guard stood up and moved towards Yao. His cousin let go of his hand, speaking hurriedly.

"And one more thing!" he tugged Yong Soo's swallow ring of his finger and thrust it at Kiku, "Take it. Look after it. Yong Soo would want you to have it, I know he would."

Kiku clenched his fist over the ring, feeling the panic rise inside him. "Don't leave, Cousin Yao!"

But Yao was already being pushed towards the border.

"Be good, Kiku!" he shouted over his shoulder, "You're going to be a great man one day, I just know it!"

Kiku held onto the ring like it was his lifeline and watched his cousin walk further and further away until he could barely see him any more. Or maybe that was just because of the tears blurring his eyes. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see the smiling face of the young guardsman.

"So, buddy," He spoke in Kiku's language, so heavily accented that he could barely understand him, "Are you ready for an adventure?"

Kiku wasn't- he knew that he never would be- but what other choice did he have? The ring was too big for his fingers, so he slipped it onto his thumb instead and nodded. If nothing else, the swallow would keep him safe.

- 3 -

If anyone had been watching, they'd have though that Kiku was simply clumsy. In truth, it was nothing like that.

Perhaps it was because of pride more than anything else. Over the past few weeks, Kiku couldn't help but notice how much his body had changed, hands included. Not that they were large or anything- in fact he feared that he might be destined to keep those scrawny, delicate fingers for the rest of his life- but there was certainly an uncomfortable tightness around his thumb which hadn't been there before. The part of the thumb where his swallow ring rested.

So for the first time since arriving to Hepworth, Kiku had taken the ring off. A thick circle of red was left over; a souvenir of the swallow's protection over the last four years. His thumb felt strangely absent without it, yet that was nothing compared to the satisfaction of replacing it on this fourth-finger. It made him look older than fourteen, he thought. It made him look like Yong Soo.

The youth training ground was situated on the opposite side of Thorpe city to the orphanage. Like any other day, Kiku made the journey across the main bridge overhead. It towered above the city- making the mechanics and engineers who worked diligently below appear like nothing more than dolls. On reflection, it was his own fault for strutting and for swinging his arms about so carelessly. For not realising that the ring was still rather loose upon his finger. But Kiku didn't notice until it slipped right from his hand and bounced once on the bridge's surface. Then, it disappeared over the edge.

At first he thought it must have fallen the whole way, left to be crushed on the worksite beneath him. Only when he knelt by the edge and peered frantically over the railings did he realise that it had caught on one of the spikes sticking out from underneath the bridge. Kiku slid a hand between the barrier and stretched as far as possible. He could barely even reach halfway. As far as he could see, the only means of getting the ring back would be to climb over the top and cling onto the railings with one hand while retrieving it with the other. All while dangling over a fifty-foot drop. A feat like that would take not only superhuman strength but nerves of steel too. Kiku had neither. He shook the barrier and cried out in sheer frustration.

"Hey."

A soft voice behind him caught his attention. Kiku turned around to find a boy crouching on the bridge beside him. By estimation, Kiku would have guessed him to be about his own age though it was impossible to really tell. He was already well-built for a teenager, with rippling muscles that made his shirt bulge.

"You're upset." It wasn't a question, more of an observation. "Is there… a problem?"

His eyes bore into Kiku's with a musing intensity. Olive-coloured, Kiku thought. Suddenly, he found himself incredibly flustered.

"No. I- I mean er… well yes, maybe. But, um-" he gestured forlornly at the spike, "My ring fell off."

The boy gazed at it for a long moment; his head tilted and his eyebrows raised in quiet deliberation. While he did so, Kiku took the opportunity to gaze at him. He knew that it was rude to stare but he couldn't help it. There was just something so fascinating about this boy; a captivating God-like aura. Anyone would have been drawn in.

"I can help you get it back." the boy said finally. His voice was deep, slow and resonating. "If… you want me to."

"W-what? No, no!" Kiku shook his head, laughing nervously, "It's far too dangerous, you'd break your neck!"

The boy rose to his feet and tested his weight against the railings. "No, I can do it… I think."

"You can't!"

Kiku hastily stood, ready to hold him back if need be. But the boy was already clambering up the barrier like a wild cat, immune to his protests.

Everything happened in one swift motion. One second the boy was perched on top of the railings, the next, he had lowered himself over the other side. Kiku gasped and put his hands over his mouth, trying not to scream. The only protection the boy had from the yawning drop was his own hand, clenched around the top rail. Yet it didn't seem like a challenge to him as he swung himself to one side and groped for the ring. He seemed to retrieve it with such ease, such enjoyment, like this was nothing more than a game.

As soon as the ring was safely enclosed in his hand, the boy vaulted back over the railings and landed next to Kiku. He barely looked out of breath.

"See, I told you." He sounded vaguely amused to see Kiku's astonishment. "It wasn't… difficult."

Kiku tried to reply but he couldn't even think of the words. His brain felt like mush after watching that outstanding display; a display of such daring, such careless masculine grace. All for him.

"There was really no need to go to such trouble over me." he struggled out eventually, looking down.

"No trouble. I… wanted to." The boy shrugged. "Very attractive."

Kiku's heart skipped a beat. "Excuse me?!"

"This ring." he held it in the palm of his hand, tracing a finger over the swallow, "Beautiful design. Did someone… special give it to you?"

"It belonged to my cousin once. He's dead now." Never in all four of his years here had Kiku ever told anyone that. But somehow he didn't mind this boy knowing- this boy who had risked his life without a second thought to get it back for him.

"I'm sorry. Here, let me put it back for you."

He took Kiku's fingers between his own warm hands and slid the ring back in place. Kiku could feel his heart thumping fit to burst.

"Thank you." he whispered, praying that his face wasn't anywhere near as red as it felt, "Thank you for everything. I- I'm Kiku, by the way."

The boy stared at him again. He smiled faintly.

"Heracles."

- 4 -

War was never going to be Kiku's thing. He had the necessary resolve and he hadn't knowingly missed so much as one training session, but he could just tell that he wasn't supposed to be a fighter. The military drills left him exhausted and with no sense of accomplishment, no real passion. As unfortunate as it was in such a martial-based country, he knew that destiny had a different path for him.

Kiku discovered that path the first time he started drawing. With a stick of charcoal in his hand he felt truly in command, as if the power of creation rested between his fingertips. It was a strange kind of responsibility, but such a thrilling one too. He sketched whenever he could find the time, usually drawing observations in the breaks between training. Uniforms, weaponry, mechanics, his comrades' faces were brought to life with all their honesty and intricate details.

But out of everything, he liked drawing Heracles best of all. Kiku had managed to capture quite a collection of treasured memories in the two years he'd known him. There was the time he'd fallen asleep against the generator with his mouth ajar and his long side fringes tossed over his cheeks. So carelessly handsome that Kiku had to preserve the moment forever. And that fateful morning about a year ago when he'd fought with Sadik Adnan… it terrified Kiku even now to look over the picture and remember the sheer fury that burned in his eyes. These were Kiku's secret masterpieces; the drawings he never dared to show anybody else. The drawings that lived under his pillow in the orphanage for his eyes only.

Sitting on the bench in the back of the training ground, Kiku brought charcoal to paper once more. He frowned slightly as he sketched a vague outline. Drawing from memory alone was always a lot harder. He closed his eyes to visualise the moment. Two weeks ago; a hot summer's day at the training grounds. Heracles working with his shirt off, completely unaware of two admiring eyes stealing constant glances in his direction. Smiling, he gave the picture more definition. The juts of his perfect, exposed muscles began to form, glistening in the sunlight as brightly as they had on that afternoon. Kiku's heart beat a little faster.

He left Heracles' face until last; always the most frustrating part to sketch because he never felt able to do him true justice. Heracles had a kind of casual elegance which was too good for charcoal, somehow. Once again, Kiku was disappointed with the result. He'd captured Heracles' philosophical air perfectly, but there was still something missing… that final spark that made him more than just an image on paper.

"Kiku?"

He whipped around so abruptly that it was a wonder his neck didn't snap off. "H-Heracles! You gave me such a shock!"

Heracles didn't even seem to hear him. His gaze was fixed on the sketchpad in Kiku's hands with a satisfied kind of bemusement. "You drew me."

"Ah… yes." It was too late to attempt to hide the picture now so he hid his eyes instead, keeping them rooted determinedly on the ceiling. "I- I'm very sorry."

"What for? It's a great likeness… always is with you."

Colour rose to Kiku's cheeks from the praise but he forced himself to keep his voice steady. "Don't you think it's a bit…?"

"A bit… what?"

Kiku shook his head. He couldn't complete that sentence. Not while his head was spinning like this and while he was even struggling to breathe. But surely Heracles must know how provocative the picture was; how he had exaggerated his every feature in seductive detail.

"What's that?" Heracles asked, pointing to the corner of the drawing.

"That is my signature. All artists have to have one." Kiku said, glad of the conversation change, "You can tell what it is, can't you?"

Heracles cocked his head to the side. "It's a swallow… like your ring."

"That's right."

"But… Kiku," he stared up with those rich, overwhelming eyes, "If it's just a swallow… how will anyone be able to tell that the drawings are yours?"

Kiku forced himself not to break the gaze.

"You will." he said quietly.

And that was honestly all that mattered to him.

- 5 -

"Beautiful, isn't she?"

Kiku bit his lip. He wasn't sure how far an airship designed for destruction could be described as 'beautiful', for all its complexities. The Commanders had commissioned him to sketch the design after it was complete. Already, he was starting to doubt his ability to do that without exposing its core ugliness.

"It is wonderful engineering, I suppose." he said, "Does it have a name?"

"These types of airships usually don't. But this one…" Heracles snaked an arm around Kiku's waist and pulled him closer. "I think we should call her The Swallow. Our own secret name."

Kiku's breath caught at the contact, his insides squirming pleasurably. He'd noticed his friend's behaviour growing increasingly affectionate as of late. Daringly, he leaned into Heracles's body.

"Are you really going to be driving it?"

Heracles laughed softly. "I'm not a pilot. But I'll be part of the crew… controlling the air pressure, the cannons… that sort of thing."

"I don't understand." Kiku said. He'd been wondering about this ever since he first saw the airship, with all those guns bulging out from the sides. "Why do there need to be cannons on an ordinary airship? Surely you do not expect to be attacked while picking up cargo?"

Heracles tensed. His expression as he looked at Kiku was one of deep concern. "You mean… you haven't heard about it?"

"Heard about what?"

"Commander Jones told us last night," Heracles said, even more quietly than usual, "Hepworth… Hepworth was declared war on the Kingdom of Ryder."

The news hit Kiku like a punch to the stomach. "N-no!"

Heracles shrugged. "I don't want it any more than you… but we're in a conflict now."

Wordlessly, Kiku shook his head. It couldn't be true. Not after all he'd given up to get here. Not after he'd promised Yao that he'd be safe in this new, foreign country. There had to be some kind of mistake.

"Commander Jones said the Ryderians were asking for it." Heracles continued, "Expanding their territory eastwards… creating more and more extravagant technology… it had to come to this sooner or later."

Kiku couldn't speak. The utter triviality of that reason made it so much worse somehow. It was as if the two countries were no more than children squabbling over their toys in the playground… and now innocent lives would have to pay for it.

A sudden thought struck him. "Does that mean that you'll be on this airsh- on The Swallow- for a mission? That you'll be fighting in the war?"

Heracles unlatched his arm and looked away. "I… I might not have to. Could be a while before the real fighting kicks off."

"That is not the point!"

Desperately he cupped his hands on Heracles' soft cheeks, turning his face towards him. He was barely an inch away and Kiku even caught his scent; all berries and summer and freshly cut grass.

"I don't want to lose you." he whispered, "You mean too much to me for that."

"You're not going to lose me." Heracles' arms were back around him in an instant, one rubbing gentle circles into his back, the other stroking and combing through his hair. "I'll always be there for you Kiku… always."

Kiku swallowed. Heracles was so close, far too close really. It was making his head spin and his body feel giddy all over.

"Do you promise?" he asked.

Heracles nodded- the most earnest and genuine nod that Kiku had ever seen. "I promise."

Then he tilted his head and their lips finally met, sealing the oath.

- 6 -

Kiku had never understood why people called it 'making love.' Until his first time time with Heracles, that was.

It was hot and cramped in The Swallow's engine room, but Heracles demonstrated a cool and tantalising kind of patience. He pleasured him with his tongue first, teasing Kiku's length with gentle licks before taking the whole of him into his mouth. The sensation was incredible- sensual, thrilling and so, so intense. Kiku had grabbed hold of the pressure pipes so tightly he feared they might break under the force. His gasps and moans were loud enough to echo through the whole airship.

Heracles took his time in pleasing him, choosing only to stop once he knew he'd sent Kiku over the edge with euphoria. Then, it was his turn to reciprocate. Considering that he'd never done anything like this before, Heracles had offered to guide him through the process of topping. Kiku declined immediately. He had no desire to let his inexperience show; to play the part of the blushy young man so clueless about sex that he needed teaching. For once in his life, Kiku Honda wanted to take control.

Besides, he realised soon enough that he didn't need any guidance. There was just something instinctive about fucking Heracles, something which his body grasped without his brain's input and acted out with ease. The triumph he felt in making Heracles scream was a memory he wasn't about to forget in a long time.

Afterwards, they collapsed onto the floor together in a breathless and sated mess. Heracles' broad chest was damp with sweat as Kiku rested his head against it. Whether from the heat of the moment or just the heat of the room he couldn't tell.

"You've done this before." he said after a moment, "Who was it with?"

An angry flush coloured Heracles' cheeks. The recollection looked painful. "With- with Sadik, just one time. It was a mistake… didn't feel anything like it did with you."

Kiku was surprised to discover that this news didn't make him feel remotely jealous. Heracles always spoke with such honesty that it was impossible not to believe every word he said. And as dreamlike as it seemed, it was impossible not to believe that Kiku was the only one he wanted too. Kiku ran his hands over his lover's gorgeous muscles, feeling like the luckiest, happiest man in the entire world.

It was strange, the fear had never really left him since he'd first heard about the outbreak of war six months ago. Even in this blissful moment, he was well aware that they could be five minutes away from an invasion, or from Heracles being called away on a mission. But here the feeling was deadened somehow, carried away by the lulling rise and fall of his lover's chest.

"Heracles?" Kiku murmured.

"Hmmmm?"

He raised his chin slightly to look him in the eye. "I- I just wanted to say that… I feel safe when I'm with you."

Heracles gazed back at him, apparently expressionless. Then, he coaxed Kiku's hand gently in his own and guided it to his mouth. His lips made contact with the tip of Kiku's swallow ring.

"I feel safe when I'm with you too." he whispered.

- 7 -

Kiku's hands trembled as they held the assignment paper. There were only a few short sentences on the sheet but he read over every word as carefully as he could. Once, twice, three times; however many it took for the meaning to sink in. He shook his head wildly and crumpled the paper in his hands.

"No…"

Heracles raised his eyebrows. "…No? What do you mean, 'no'?"

"I mean that you shouldn't be thinking of going!" he looked up pleadingly sat the other man, "You are not, are you?"

But that question had been answered without even having to ask it. If he wasn't planning to accept the assignment, why would Heracles be wearing a pair of Hepworth-green military trousers? Why would he be wearing the matching crewman's jacket? On any other day Kiku might have thought that the clothes suited his muscular form. Today, they simply looked hideous to him.

"Kiku… I- I…" Heracles often appeared to be struggling for the right words but never more so than now, "It won't be dangerous. It shouldn't take more than a day or two… without complications."

"And what if there are complications?"

He shrugged. "That depends… depends on what those complications are."

The silence that followed was strained and suffocating. With every word unspoken, Kiku felt the tension increase between them.

"It is necessary to do this." Heracles said after a very long moment, "It's been a year now. The war can't go on without real fighting forever… needs to be pushed along to the next stage."

Kiku snorted. "I apologise, but I do not see how blowing up the Ryderian King's palace is going to help with that."

"It will force them to take some kind of action. People like vengeance… it's in our blood."

Kiku squeezed the ball of paper into a pulp, wishing he could destroy its meaning as easily. "I just don't understand why it has to be you."

Heracles didn't answer but edged closer and opened his arms to invite Kiku in. Kiku hesitated before burying his face into his chest. The stench of the military jacket engulfed him; reeking of engine fuel and blood and death.

"It's going to be alright, Kiku." Heracles strong arms wrapped around him, "I've flown with Captain Borisov before… he's a wonderful pilot. He won't let us down."

Kiku sighed heavily. "You are going on this mission, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"And there is nothing I can say that will stop you, is there?"

Heracles brushed his lips against the top of Kiku's head. "… No."

It was the response that Kiku had been expecting, but that didn't make it any less painful to hear. He closed his eyes and nuzzled even more fiercely into Heracles' body. Four years since had passed since the two of them first met but he hadn't really changed at all in that time. One blink and Heracles was that casually reckless young teenager again, so determined to make Kiku smile again that he didn't stop to consider the consequences.

Remembering that gave Kiku a sudden idea. He loosened himself from the hug and fumbled to remove his swallow ring.

"Take this, please." he handed it to Heracles, "It will bring you luck if you wear it… help to keep you safe."

Heracles attempted to push it onto one of his fingers. He frowned. "It won't fit."

"That doesn't matter!" Kiku said, "Just keep it with you; all the time. You can give it back to me when you return from the mission."

"Of course." Heracles tucked the ring into the breast pocket of his uniform, out of sight, "Kiku… thank you."

They hugged again; one last time. Kiku could feel the swallow ring pressing against him as it rested over Heracles' steadily beating heart. Lowering his head, he kissed it through the fabric.

"Stay safe, Hera." he muttered, "Please."

No bodies had been reclaimed from the airship crash, so the funeral for the four fallen crewmen could only pay tribute to memorials. It was a modest affair- a few friends, family members and colleagues. Commander Jones delivered a speech about their 'heroic spirits' and 'utter dedication to the cause. None of it meant very much. None of it seemed to honour the Heracles that Kiku had known.

Several of the onlookers wept as they bowed over the headstones. Kiku wasn't one of them. After crying almost solidly for a week, he didn't have any tears left inside him now. Only pain. He was surprised to see that Captain Tsvetan Borisov remained impassive too; not even so much as changing his expression as he whispered the names of the departed. He had a mournful air about him, though, like worms were eating at his guts. The air of a man who was dead inside.

Long after the funeral had ended, the two of them lingered in the graveyard. Neither of them spoke initially, or even looked at the other, but gazed onto the stones which confirmed the deaths. Kiku was half-expecting Tsvetan to say something about how brave Heracles had been, or how he had died for a noble cause. He was glad when he didn't. Heracles already had an empty grave; the last thing he needed were empty words too.

"Kiku?" Tsvetan spoke in little more than a whisper, "How have you been this week?"

Regardless of truth, the correct response to that question was always 'fine, thank you.' But Kiku couldn't bring himself to give the correct response anymore.

"It hurts so much." he said, "Really, you cannot even begin to imagine-"

"I can." Tsvetan said suddenly. His expression was vacant; somewhere else. "Believe me, I know exactly how you feel."

Kiku couldn't argue with that so he turned back to the headstones. Every time he looked over Heracles' name something stirred inside him; a stabbing bitterness which filled him to the core with anger.

"Captain Borisov?" he said, "Will you take me with you?"

"Take you where?"

Kiku curled his hands into fists. "I have decided that when this war develops, I want to be a part of it. I want to fight alongside you. I want to make it so H-Heracles' death was not in vain."

He knew that he must look ridiculous. The boy who was more comfortable with a stick of charcoal in his hands than a gun demanding to be taken to the battlefield. He wouldn't have been surprised if Tsvetan burst out laughing.

Tsvetan did not laugh. Instead, he gave Kiku a long look over, sizing him up.

"You'll need plenty of training." he said, " It's more strenuous than you think, managing an airship."

"Whatever it takes."

Tsvetan nodded. "Alright then, I'll take you. If you're sure that this is what you want."

"It is."

Kiku had spent a long time considering his options over the past week and he was certain that this was the right thing to do. The futility of war still sickened him but far worse was the feeling of impotence. Of standing by while others like Heracles gave up their lives.

"We should go." Tsvetan said as the silence became ominous. He shoved his hands in his pockets. "If you dwell in melancholy for too long you'll end up addicted to it."

"Just one moment." Kiku said.

Kneeling by the graves, he took out the swallow ring that he could no longer bring himself to wear and placed it on the ground. There it lay under the shadow of Heracles' headstone, no more than a twisted piece of metal.

"Isn't that your special ring?" Tsvetan asked, helping Kiku to his feet, "It's supposed to give you protection or something, right?"

Kiku glanced back towards it and remembered all the times over the years that the ring had brought him comfort. But it belonged to a different world now; an innocent, bygone world where he'd known fear and hope. There would be no place for magical swallows in his new life.

"Maybe I don't want protection any more."

*For the moment, this is the end. Although I do suspect that Kiku will probably turn up in future stories set in this universe. We'll see. Enjoyed the story? Thought it was a load of bollocks? Either way, I'd appreciate a review to tell me what you thought!*