Author's note: So I decided to try my hand at a Trinity Blood fanfic even though I never finished my first Black Butler one due to certain circumstances. This one will be definitely shorter and I don't expect any reviews because I poured my heart into Veritas and nobody batted an eyelash.

Disclaimer: I don't own Trinity Blood or any of its characters.

...

Homecoming

Suffering: The state of undergoing pain, distress, or hardship.

It was such a bland definition when supplied by the dictionary, yet when put to practice, it had the power to make or break someone. In her short twenty years, Esther Blanchett had experienced more suffering than most and yet she still kept her head up and her eyes fixed on God. In her roughest times she had found kindness in the form of a clumsy, useless, loving priest with a large heart and an even larger secret. It was he who had encouraged her to keep to the light, to love and laugh as if every day were her last day and be friends to all. He had filled her with hope for the future and shaped her into the woman, the queen, that she was today.

Yes, Father Abel Nightroad was Esther's beginning yet the man wasn't without his own suffering. He carried his own grief, his own secrets and suffering, the burden of being one who was neither Terran nor Methuselah but perhaps greater than both. He was Krusnik, one of four lab-created beings who survived by drinking the blood of Methuselah. It put him higher on the food chain but came at great cost, each death he dealt striking deeper into his tender heart to form new shadows. Esther herself had seen the Krusnik weep tears of blood for the fallen but she had come to terms and even developed a fondness for the priest with his dark self. Before she had the chance to tell him, however, he had disappeared to hunt down Cain.

It had been two years. Two long, dragging years since the fateful day of Abel's resurrection. Two years of waiting, and clutching at scraps of news that she found about the travelling priest, and long nights of praying in her private chapel until calluses formed on her knees and her body shook violently with the cold of the stone beneath her. Finally she had been forced to abandon her silent vigil so she could become a better, stronger queen to her people. Queen Esther, the Star of Hope. When the news that she had been awaiting had finally come, it had been a heavy yet wonderful blow to her; the Contra Mundi was dead. She was unaware of the circumstances but she resumed her prayers that the object of her affection was alive and unharmed. Maybe, just maybe, she could finally release the feelings that were nestled deep within her. Not even in her deepest dreams did she ever think that Abel would actually make his way back to Albion.

Just minutes ago, the guards outside of the palace had sounded the alarm that an intruder was making his way toward the palace, unheeding of any and all attempts to stop him. Any who got in his way were mercilessly shoved aside. It was only when Mary arrived on the scene that she recognized the raggedy stranger and gave the necessary clearance for him. Esther had immediately gotten her hopes up but they were crushed when she reached the chapel where he had requested to be deposited; this was not Abel Nightroad. The man who knelt at the altar, silent paroxysms of grief shaking his gaunt form, was an empty shell. His cassock, or rather the tatters that remained of it, hung with alarming looseness on his frame, he had no glasses, his hair was crudely hacked off to just below his shoulder-blades, and his eyes were glazed and unresponsive. Medical staff in charge of Esther's own care had come and gone, reporting that though his skin was crossed with many, many scars and he was in great need of a meal and a soft bed, nothing was physically wrong with the man.

Esther had immediately taken herself to the chapel upon hearing the news, but somehow she could not bring herself to approach Father Nightroad. She had seen him in fairly rough shape after the death of Noelle but he seemed to be in almost a catatonic state, his frame folded loosely down until his forehead touched the cold stone of the chapel floor and his arms wrapped tightly around his torso. She chided herself for being a weak little girl and slowly, step by step, made herself creep to the altar. Gently she pulled Abel into a more upright position, her eyes anxiously searching his face for any signs that he recognized her. Besides a violent flinch at the press of her hand, he gave the impression that he was in an entirely different world altogether. His unique ice blue eyes were glazed with pain, his face etched deeply with the evidence of his grief. It speared her to her very core to see him suffering so badly.

"Oh Father Nightroad...what horrors have those eyes seen? It will be alright, Father. I will lend you my strength until yours returns."

Gently she pulled him forward until his head rested on her shoulder, scooting as close as she could and simply stroking his rough silver hair. It was all that could be done no matter how much she wished differently. Abel made no move to stop nor to aid her, yet some of the tension went out of his frame and his eyelids slowly slid shut, his lashes feathering softly across his cheeks. She held him like this for hours, until her dress over that shoulder was soaked through yet no more tears came from him, and then called Mary forward to help her assist him to a room. She would heal him if it was the last thing she did.

Though Lord Walsh and Mary both protested, Esther herself was the one to care for Abel. She fetched a bowl of hot water and a soft cloth which she used to gently sponge the dirt, blood, and oils from the unresponsive man's skin, only blushing a bit when she had to slip his cassock off of him to do so. She wasn't bold enough to do his lower half, instead deferring to Virgil while she went to fix a hearty gruel for Abel. When she returned to the room he had been cleansed fully and dressed in a nightshirt but he had not moved or said a single word still. She tried to get some of the concoction in him but he firmly turned his head away, his hands fisting by his side, and she sighed in exasperation but let the issue go. Instead she seized a nearby brush and began to run it through the rough, tangled, newly shorn hair until it gleamed like the precious metal which it mirrored. It was only when Esther finished her duties and attempted to leave that some animation came back to the priest. With more strength than she thought he could muster, he firmly grasped her sleeve and tugged her to him before lowering her back into the chair that she had formerly occupied. His eyes locked with hers, silent pleading in them, and she gave him an indulgent smile.

"Well, I suppose that with your condition being so severe they will not say anything if I stay. Please, try to get some rest. I promise that I will not leave your side until morning when I have to attend to duties. I am here for you, Father Nightroad."

Prying Abel's clutching fingers off of her sleeve, Esther pushed him firmly back onto the bed but softened it by offering her hand to him instead. He grasped it like it was a lifeline in a tempest-tossed sea and his eyes did not leave her until the moment that he lost his battle against sleep.

...

"I'm leaving! Why should I stay when you're not even trying to save yourself?! I should just let you wallow and pity yourself in peace! You big fool, I've been staying with you because I l-lo-lo...because I truly care about you!"

Esther abandoned the bowl of high nutrient gruel that she had been unsuccessfully trying to get in Abel and stalked out of his room, letting the door shut firmly behind her. It had been over a week and the man still had not said a single word to her. She had pushed herself to her physical limits, the dark circles under her eyes testament enough of days spent bathing and attempting to feed the man whenever she had a single break from court paperwork and visits with foreign dignitaries, solving land disputes and attending important events. Her nights were spent in a slightly more comfortable chair that she had placed in his room, speaking words of encouragement and comfort to him, reading passages from books and the bible, and even singing lullabies when he would wake from violent nightmares in a cold sweat. She would stroke his hair and hold his hand, very rarely getting more than one or two hours of sleep a night before rising to do her duties as a queen again. She had invested so much time and attention on him and risked her own health for nothing; he had not taken a single bite to eat in a week and it was very rare that she managed to force water down his throat. He was wasting away in front of her eyes and she had had enough; if he wanted to die, there wasn't much that she could do to stop him. Abel was left staring mutely at the solid oak door, pain etched on his face. Slowly a hand rose to reach for the abandoned bowl and a deep sigh escaped him.

"Es-ther...Esther..."

...

"Your Majesty! Queen Esther! There has been a change with the patient!"

Looking up from yet another pile of paperwork, Esther blinked blearily up at Virgil. She had instructed her most faithful retainer to write Cardinal Sforza and Seth informing them about Abel's declining health in case they wished to be at his side as he died. Virgil's face was frantic and Esther's heart sank; had it happened so soon? Before he could even fill her in she was out of her chair and headed towards Abel's room at a flat run. She heard the commotion from the very end of the hall, her eyes locking on the armored guards who congregated outside of the room. It seemed they could get no further than the doorway, something within keeping them firmly out. They seemed reluctant to move but in the end could not refuse the orders of their queen, parting like the Red Sea to reveal...an entirely different scenario from what she had pictured.

For the first time in a week, Abel was displaying signs of life. He was huddled in the corner, staring in horror at his hands and trembling violently. Mary and a few select guardsmen were attempting to draw him out of his corner to assess his condition but each time that they approached he would lash out at them and there was a red spot on Mary's cheek that was already deepening into a dark wine; it would be a spectacular bruise if left alone and Esther winced with sympathy for the older woman, her sister. Mary attempted to stop Esther at the door but she straightened her spine regally and ordered everyone out of the room. When it was just the two of them, Abel seemed to calm a bit but his sobs echoed raggedly off of the walls and he maintained his tortured position. He made no move to harm her, so she approached him with a bit more confidence than she actually felt and grasped his hands.

"Abel...Father Abel. I can help me if you just speak to me. Please, it's quite upsetting to see you brought this low!"

In a lightning-quick move, Abel's arms shot out and wrapped themselves around Esther's slight frame. Mary leapt to her queen's aid but Esther shooed her back out of the room with reassurance that she was not being harmed. Indeed, Abel simply clutched her tightly to his chest, his hand sliding through her hair until the circlet which she chose to wear in place of her heavy crown for day to day use felt to the floor with a noisy clatter. She simply let him hold her and cry, hoping that it would bring him out of his shell, and eventually her wish was granted. His voice was hoarse from emotion and disuse, a barely-there whisper in her ear.

"S-si-sister Esther...help me. My hands...the blood...it won't come off. Please...help me get the blood off."

Alarmed, Esther turned to inspect Abel's hands but apart from a multitude of scars there was nothing to mar the pale skin there. Still, she beckoned for a basin of warm water to be brought and thoroughly scrubbed at them until the skin was pink and agitated. Only then did Abel sink to the floor with her still in his grasp. She was seated on his lap, his arms wrapped tightly enough around her torso that she was having trouble breathing, but she did not deny him the comfort that he sought. Nobody would think less of their queen, after all. Behind her she heard Mary issue an order for the guards to clear the hallway and turned her head to offer her sister a small smile of thanks before turning her attention back to the priest. Her priest. One hand gently pressed his cheek to her shoulder in a repeat of the chapel and she gently stroked his hair until his sobs quieted to uneven, gasping breaths. Only then did she speak.

"All the blood is gone now, Father Abel. Please, you don't have to torture yourself anymore and you don't have to go through this alone. I am here to share your burdens. As I said, you're very dear to me."

Abel did not lift his head but a sigh washed gently over the skin of Esther's neck andcon then he began to speak. His voice was low but she could hear the torment in it.

"For the past two years I have been seeking my brother. Many times I came close, only to be surrounded by members of the Order. Each time Ion and I managed to fight our way free and continue our journey, pressing onward. I didn't realize it at first but Cain orchestrated the entire thing. He reeled us in slowly, baited his hook carefully so we would not realize that we were being lured until we were in his territory in Hispania. He was waiting for us on the battlefield, surrounded by the corpses of his own allies and confident that he could win. I tried to warn Ion that something was off but the Earl rushed ahead and stepped on a piece of lost technology, a landmine. He managed to dodge partially but sustained considerable damages; he is now resting in his grandmother's home.

"Cain intended it to be a battle just between brothers, Krusnik to Krusnik. The ground was unsafe so we were forced to take to the skies. I was pushed to the limits of my strength, my skin flayed from my bones, but I knew that he had to be tiring as well. We fought until the sky flashed with lightning and the local village was forced to leave their homes lest they perish with their homes. It all ended in the Village Square. Cain's body had begun to crumble on the second day and by the third night there was little left to him. He...he begged me to spare him. In the end he had enough sanity that he called out for mercy from his brother with tears in his eyes and I...I... murdered him. I looked into his eyes and put an end to him because I knew that I was the reason for his madness. Esther...I am a murderer. These hands have killed...I am a monster!"

Esther felt tears well in her own eyes at the torment in Abel's voice. She hated to see the one that she cared for suffer so very deeply. Gently she rocked with him, her own arms wrapping around him and holding him close.

"Father Nightroad...Abel, you are safe now. You are not a monster or a murderer, but a hero. I know that you don't want to hear it, but your brother has killed millions for sport and you risked your own life to save humanity. It doesn't matter what happened in your past either, because in the end nothing from your past has the power to harm you. Please, you have to live. I don't know if I could face seeing you in a coffin a second time. Don't do this to yourself! Don't beat yourself up! You can live out the rest of your long life, whether as a priest and a member of the AX or as a nobleman of my court. I will grant you everything you desire, and you will be able to turn to others for support. Just tell me what it is you want and it's yours. I'm foolishly in love with you, after all.

Abel's eyes showed every bit of his thousand years when he raised his head so that he could meet Esther's gaze. There was sorrow there, and also shock and a hint of anger.

"B-but the Krusnik. I'm not Methuselah or Terran. Don't you see, woman?! All of the friends in the AX will die. You will die, the buildings will crumble. You truly are a fool if you believe that it will turn out differently. Look at me! Should I trudge on with this thing inside of me, knowing that it's waiting for blood?"

Esther hit the floor hard as Abel leapt up from his seated position, a fierce crackle of energy signaling that he wasn't the only one staring out of those hurt blue eyes. Slowly he bled into his Krusnik form, towering well above her prostrate figure. His wings, though tattered, were no less imposing as they arched proudly over his form, nearly brushing the ceiling. His voice was a deep growl that nobody would mistake for humanoid.

"Do you like this face? Are you in love with this monster? ANSWER ME! I can smell your fear, hear your heart racing and this thing is scenting you as prey, food."

Abel crouched, towering over Esther and blocking her exit. He brought his face menacingly close to hers, Wings snapping out to surround her completely. At first she could not make herself move, overwhelmed, but finally she placed her hands on his hollow cheeks and brought him in even closer to her. The kiss that she brushed across his lips was very gentle but he felt it, his eyes widening in shock.

"The Krusnik doesn't scare me, Abel, because it is you and you are it. You wouldn't have been able to save us all without it and I have seen you pray over fallen enemies, even those who have just done harm to you. You have even sustained extensive damage from placing yourself in front of others to protect them, so I know that you are not bad. You're not a monster. You're just Father Nightroad, Abel, as I am just Queen Esther. You don't have to shoulder all this yourself. Just learn to rely on me please."

Slowly Abel bowed his head, his sharp, talon-tipped fingers slipping up to touch his lips as if he could still feel the warmth of her kiss. A single bloody tear rolled down his cheek but his expression shifted to one of tired acquiescence. Slowly he climbed to his feet and seized the bowl of broth which had been brought out for his supper. Transitioning back to himself, he tipped the bowl and drank the whole thing without pause before settling down in the chair which she had occupied for so many nights.

"Very well. I will need pen and paper to inform Cardinal Sforza of my intentions to remain here at your court while I recover."

A smile like the first glimpse of sunrise spread across Esther's face and she rose, brushing her dress off and handing Abel the roll which was intended to accompany his stew.

"Of course! I'll go right away and fetch them with my own two hands while you eat that. I'll also bring you some more; we'll have you healed in no time."

With that cheerful proclamation Esther vanished from the room, leaving Abel to his own device. Almost as if he were speaking to the roll in his hand, he murmured one last thing.

"Of course. If it's for you then I will do it."