All right! Before we start, this is an AU that takes place in an imaginary country! Now in this country everyone in the courts speaks French! Which was not uncommon (in fact it was the most usual) in courts of the 15th century, which is more or less where I'm aiming at with this, even if the concubine references all relate a bit more to the way Geishas were handled in Japan, well, whatever, is my AU, I'll write whatever I want into it. I'm getting off-track here, before I begin to bore you; some English to French translations so that you don't get too lost:
Butterfly – Papillon
King – Roi (it's pronounced Ruwa, just so you don't go around thinking I renamed Grimmy, Roy in your purgdy little heads)
Début d'évaluation – Evaluation debut
Queen – Reine
Princess – Princesse
Come ci come ça – So-so / More or less
Oui – Yes
Merci – Thank you
Pour devenir un'adulte – To become an adult
God - Dieu
Prologue, Le Roi et le concubine
Once his mother died, the only way his father, a retired arms-man, had to survive and be able to feed his twin sisters was to sell Ichigo. He did not have any objections towards this. He knew his father and how much it had hurt to give him up. This is how Ichigo came to enroll in Madame Papillon's house where young boys where trained from tender age in the ways of male concubines for the royal house.
Ichigo was just five. The warden at Madame Papillon's had hated him with fierce disgust since he put feet onto that place, stating that the son of a swordsman was too rough for the imperial lay, and yet Ichigo grew handsome and healthy. By the time he was thirteen, Duchess Soi-Fon had to clamp her mouth shut.
It might come as strange or immoral that the royal house would only allow for male concubines, but this was natural. The council had long since decreed that Le Roi should not have female concubines, this derived from the problems that bastard offspring had bought the kingdom long before their time.
In the year that Kurosaki Ichigo turned fourteen, he was brought in for the début d'évaluation. That had been where the fiery red head had first set eyes on the young ruler D'Haggenterre. He had seriously expected a spoiled brat with dull black hair and brown eyes, bossing the whole court into exasperation and whatnot. That had been always his stereotype for the royalty. He had already surrendered to that fact. So when he first laid eyes on Grimmjow of the Jaeggerjaques royal house, he had struggled intensely not to gape. He had, however, tripped over his ceremonial robes and disturbed the whole row of yet to be deflowered boys walking in a neat rhythm right down the middle of the throne room, attracting all kinds of attention towards him, even the kind that no concubine would ever want; La Reine's.
Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck, oh boy, was Ichigo scared the first time he spotted the northern princesse's stare on him. She did not look particularly angry, or menacing at all, in fact, she looked intensely… curious. Curious is never a good thing, especially in courts, where interests are the supreme rulers and not Le Roi, as one would suppose. She had leaned in to speak in the proximity of her spouse, politely hiding her mouth as she smiled widely.
Lost, however, in the commotion of rearranging the order in the procession, Ichigo took a few seconds before looking back in the direction of Haggenterre's rulers. His eyes met incredible blue ones, the color that he could only recognize by looking at the sky's zenith in a clear and hot day, and just like the sun would, the look of Le Roi D'Haggenterre himself on him, burned. Ichigo averted his eyes. No one was to openly look in Le Roi's eyes like that. It was taboo. A taboo that had Ichigo yearning for more.
That night, back at Madame Papillon's, in his modest bed, Ichigo lay awake all night, rearranging his head. He had come to terms with being sold long, long ago, therefore Ichigo had never experienced any sort of aspiration feelings, knowing that he was destined to entertain some demented egoistical rich bimbo for the rest of his life, that would be, should said bimbo ever take an interest on him and choose him as his entertainment. But when the bimbo turned out not to be a bimbo at all, that conception of reality had been shattered, and Ichigo, for the first time, knew what it was like to aspire. He aspired to be chosen.
Ichigo was in love with Haggenterre's Roi. And damn him if he was not going reach him.
Chapitre une, Pour devenir un'adulte
It was an early morning at Madame Papillon's. Like every other early morning, Ichigo was up preparing for the day; he brushed his shoulder length hair until it was untangled, braiding it up with white ribbons and cotton fabric flowers and he dressed in his costmary leggings and vests before leaving the dorm and head to the main building where he would be starting mature lessons today.
Nothing could prepare Ichigo for what was next. You see, the thing with being a male concubine, and not a female one, is that virginity is not and issue. So long as you are tight and ripe when your owner finally gets his hands on you, you are still game. No one said that you would always be tight and ripe before that. Therefore, the next two years were rough on him. His trainer would enlighten him about all of the things a man can do to drive another male insane in bed.
In the beginning, his dedication had saved him from the most of the mental scaring, but most of the times he just felt disgusted with himself, by the end of year one, he was wavering on his resolve. That was until the summer solstice came upon them, and Le Roi et La Reine came to be entertained at Madame Papillon's house for the holyday.
Ichigo had been arranging himself for the play, a number of light and seduction written to drive La Reine to tears of laughter, when the woman herself had snaked behind scenes, finding him in the process of fitting himself on a contraption of erotic fashion. He seamed to not be able to do it alone and was about to brake out in exasperation when nimble fingers started to work the knots in the back.
"A concubine needs to be able to handle things like this on his own. You need to train more, Kurosaki."
Ichigo did not turn to discover the identity of the woman behind him. He could spy in his peripheral view the hem of a long, red dress littered with sequins and patterns sewn in golden string upon it.
"Merci, Madame."
"How have you been handling yourself this past year?"
"Come ci come ça, I have been holding up despite my hardships, Madame."
"Do not be easy on yourself. It is Le Roi that you will belong to. Is this understood?" The knots on the contraption where all done, the metal and leather combination seamed to fit Ichigo just fine now.
"Oui, Madame." An unbelievably soft hand brushed his naked shoulder and Ichigo could make out the green painted nails, perfectly manicured, on the lady's hand.
"Very well. Be strong Itsyugo, I have taken a liking to you."
With that the lady left the room and Ichigo collapsed in tears. He had La Reine's approval. Dieu was with him.
After the act of that night, he made peace with his situation, and from then on he doubled his efforts, sometimes he could even confess to enjoy his lessons. Just thinking about his Roi would do things to his body, and thinking of him and his spouse's approval kept his chin up for the rest of his education.