Time Imperfect

Author: Coley Merrin

Pairing: Conrad/Yuuri

Genre: Romance, Drama

To: Heather, for whose "That's interesting" to my desperate groaning about the bunny spawned the whole thing. And everything that came after.


Chapter One – The Goblet – Part One

Time goes, you say? Ah no!
Alas, Time stays, we go.
Henry Austin Dobson


Conrad's eyes found Yuuri at the edge of the hall, in the middle of the action as usual, with a box half the size that he was in his arms and gesturing with his head where to put another. Birthday plans had consumed Yuuri's free moments for the last week, and, with the day looming, Gunter could not keep him away if he had wanted. It was the ten year anniversary of Yuuri's choice to live as a Mazoku, and so this birthday was even more special. The birthday banquet had become a yearly event, and Yuuri had taken a personal interest in seeing it carried out. Perhaps that has been brought on by a little bit of guilt, Conrad thought, as Yuuri acknowledged some "fault" in that people were working hard because of his birthday. Yuuri spotted himbefore Conrad could wave, and did an exaggerated bounce that had Conrad holding his breath briefly for Yuuri's sense of balance. The box must be a light one.

"Hard to believe it's been almost ten years to the day since our Maou chose to live as a Mazoku," Yozak commented from his left, the smile apparent in his voice.

"Time moves quickly," Conrad agreed.

"He get around to, oh… slapping your cheek yet?"

"Every night," Conrad replied in the same spirit.

Yozak threw his head back and laughed, its soundechoing down to the scurrying people below.

"Might be a good birthday gift."

"I've already got one, thanks. Besides, we were thinking of waiting till a good memorable age. Like 50."

Yozak stared, unamused. "You might be able to pull that one over on Gunter, but not me."

Yuuri reappeared, this time without boxes in hand, and looked up at them again. Conrad gestured away from the hall and Yuuri nodded, smiling.

"Don't take him away too long."

"Not before his big day," Conrad assured.


"It feels good to get away!" Yuuri luxuriated, stretching his arms high above his head in the privacy of their room.

"You're not working yourself too hard?"

"Hard! They take everything heavy away before I can look at it. Besides, I'm turning 26, not 500!"

Conrad laughed at his indignant answer, knowing that Yuuri could not be better cared for. He was sure somehow Yuuri knew that Conrad called him away to allow him a break… But it also did Conrad good, and it seemed wrong to call it an indulgence, to spend a few moments in Yuuri's presence away from the eyes of the castle.

"No one wants to see you celebrate such an occasion while bedridden from a back sprain."

"I'm pretty sure I got one of those from signing my name to all those papers once…"

Yuuri wandered to the low, wide chest of drawers. The surface of it was covered with little things, shells Yuuri had found, or shiny rocks. Trinkets he had been given, and birthday gifts small enough to fit. Yuuri picked up an old goblet up off of the chest. With a fluted edge, it showed its age, but the dark finish of it still held luster, and there was etching that swirled around the edges and down the sides.

"Do you remember when you gave this to me? A few days before my birthday…"

"I remember you thinking there would be something more amazing than a goblet inside that box."

"But it was a gift from Conrad," Yuuri said, just a little bit coy. "I think I wanted to use it at dinner for a week."

"And finally let it be put on a shelf when you were ill for the week after that."

Yuuri smoothed the frown off of Conrad's face with a finger.

"It wasn't exactly your fault. Besides, you sat beside the bed and read books to me. That must have been excruciatingly boring for you."

"There was very little I wouldn't do."

"Was?"

"And still."

"So we'll have ages of birthdays together after this."

Conrad smiled at the request, and kissed him gently before he passed. "There is nothing I'd like better."


In sleep, for Conrad, came dreams. It was their bedroom, with its wide canopied bed, his sword on the side table, and Yuuri's cape hung carefully over a rung on the wall. He felt weightless, as though he were there without actually standing.. Yuuri was there, standing much as he had earlier in front of the wide chest. He held his birthday goblet in his hands, smiling. One slim finger traced the etching on the side.

"In 16 hours the Maou will be dead," a sinuous voice spoke in Conrad's dream, deep and masculine. "Do you wish for this?"

"Yuuri!"

It felt as though he shouted it in his surprise, but Yuuri did not respond. He bit the inside of his cheek, felt the sting. He felt the room spin, but hedid not move. Could not move, he realized, except to watch Yuuri. He had never had prophetic dreams… but he had learned never to cast aside anything without examination.

"Dead? How? Is someone going to attack?" Conrad demanded of the voice.

"What would you rather?" came the sing-song reply. "Assassins, curses, spirits, ancient writings… Or some of each? There are things in this world that have secrets… And once invoked, lead to the spilling of blood. Things created for sorrow, but given in joy? This man, Yuuri Shibuya of Earth, half blood, Maou… He will die tomorrow, and it will be you, Sir Weller, who will have dealt the blow."

"I would not!"

"Would not? You have. There he stands with a gift in his hands… A goblet to mark one birthday of many in an expected long life. Except that once he drank the waters of the cup, it tainted him. It was written there, the urging, for all to see who could read the old writings. But no matter, it promises ten years to the day, after many happy days, given with love, life is taken away… and after all that possibility to take life, it is given to a person of power! No, nothing can turn his fate, Sir Weller. Not this fate that you have set upon him, with a gift. After only a handful of your years, and you have robbed him of all his."

There must be something that can be done, Conrad thought, his hands stealing up to grip his hair. Or am I dreaming? I must be dreaming. Such things existed, cursed items, death curses, but it was a cup!

"Be thankful for dreams," interrupted the voice. "Not every curse bears warning. If you wish to stay by the side of your young king… You must be willing to take your leave."

"If this is not a dream, and that piece of pottery is truly cursed and will take his life, what proof do I have of this? Who are you, and why are you telling me this?"

"Who are you to question a gift? The vision you see before you now will take place tomorrow, as surely as you lay in a bed this night. The curse will be dark like smoke, and it will chase the life from him. I can show you. I can show you what he looks like as death takes him, as he gasps and dies. You can refuse me. You can stay by his side, and you can see the years fade to nothing.

"But if what I say is true, and you pass this chance, and you hold him, and you mourn over his lifeless body, know that the chance was passed, and your hope of living with yourself as well."

"Then where do I need to go?" Conrad tried to turn as the voice moved around him, but returned to face the image of Yuuri holding the goblet.

"You must go to a place and time where there is no return that can be assured. You must undo your gift, Sir Weller. Take back the goblet. Let him speak to you the words of return, and with the goblet in your hands, you must crack it… but not break it! And risking life and your very place beside him, you may be granted defeat victoryover the curse. Know that the goblet itself is your avenue of return. The chance of folly waits should luck fail you. Would you take this risk?"

"And if I don't, he will die." Yuuri, Conrad thought. He had said if there was no choice he wouldn't leave… But where could he go, where there was no return? Even to Earth…

"There is always a choice." The voice was wry, as though it had known his answer. "Say goodbye to your king, Sir Weller, one more time."

No longer he stood, but lay facing Yuuri on their bed as he had before dreaming, watching the rise and fall of Yuuri's chest as he slept sprawled on his back. An angry ball of sickness churned in his stomach.

"Yuuri…" he said, though it seemed a whisper. Conrad smoothed the collar of Yuuri's pajamas and hitched himself up so he could look down at the sleeping man.

"I have to go. I don't know where. I don't want to leave you. But there's a chance that you might die if I don't. Yuuri. You know that I love…"

The sickness became excruciating pain, and he was jerked from the comfort of Yuuri's presence into a half world where the pain eased, words of promise still waiting to be said, and pressed against cold glass that was surrounded by smoke that burned his eyes… He could see his reflection in the glass.

No… not a reflection. It moved, the image of himself, it moved as it stared at him curiously.

"Is Yuuri in danger?" the other Conrad asked, his voice muffled through the glass.

"There is a goblet," Conrad said, and heard the story from his dream come tumbling out. "And Yuuri's 26th birthday is in three days."

The other Conrad frowned. "Must he be told?"

He saw the image of Yuuri in their bed, smiling at him… "Yes. He needs to know. He may be able to help. I would tell him…"

The glass shuddered, and so did he. The cool surface drew away slowly as it revolved, and the Conrad that was behind it placed a hand to the glass, and it was matched as Conrad also raised his hand.

"Listen closely," said the other Conrad, his brow furrowed, a hint of fear showing through before the mist turned him to shadow. "My Yuuri is not yet sixteen."


Conrad woke, under the cover of his old bed, in a room he had not seen in years. He woke, disoriented, the dream fresh on his mind, every bizarre part of it. He woke reaching out for Yuuri. He woke alone.