Sometimes Koumei forgets just how much younger Kouha is.

It's easy to forget that Kouha's just eighteen, just barely an adult when he's always been so much faster than everyone, so much more competent and lively and capable. It's easy to forget when Kouha had marched off with that same grin on his face, totally confident as he rode off with his sword shining, eyes gleaming with the promise of battle.

It was easy to forget when he'd stormed back in, eyes gone berserk under the blood spattering his body, screaming at their stepmother that she's circumvented his orders, she'd sent his men into a trap on purpose, she'd killed everyone, she'd ruined everything, and that he was going to kill her right now-

But it's easy to remember when one word from Kouen shuts him up, douses his rage like a bucket of water on a match, and sends him to his room like a child.

Probably no one else will go to see him tonight, frightened of his rage. His most loyal, most dedicated servants had been among those slaughtered, Koumei has heard, and it's only natural for him to creep down the halls, slumping against Kouha's door with a knock. "Ha. It's me."

It's a little bit easier to forget about being home, about coming home as a failure when Kouha has his head underwater and he can't hear or see or think about anything.

He's drained the water twice. Finally, it stays mostly clear, a little ruddy from the blood he's scrubbed from his hair, but it'll do. He drags his head above water for a moment, the mess of it sloshing against the sides of the tub just in time for him to hear the knock on his door.

Go away is on the tip of his tongue, and he exhales a slow, shuddery sigh as he drops his chin atop his knees. Then again, Mei didn't do anything wrong. Mei didn't laugh in his face at the news of his army being slaughtered, didn't practically tell him to shut up and go to his room like a five year old. "… Yeah. Come in."

Koumei would probably have come in anyway, after seeing Kouha's face in the audience chamber. He opens the door, slowly drags a chair in front of it and under the knob to prevent anyone else from getting in, and sinks to his knees next to the tub, resting his hands on the sides. "It wasn't your fault. You know that."

"It was," he dully says, not lifting his head. "If I was half the general I should be, I could have still pulled them out alive."

"It was your first campaign." Koumei trails a hand into the cooling water, watching the slight tinge of blood sink to the bottom. "You tried. It was her fault, if they'd been given only your orders you'd have won the day, and she's doing it on purpose to try and break you. You're a threat to her, Ha."

"If that's true, then why won't En do anything about it?!" Kouha's head jerks up, his chest heaving. "Why wouldn't he let me kill her? I would have done it right then, in front of everyone, don't think I wouldn't have!"

"I know you could have. And I know you would have." Koumei sinks down to sit cross-legged on the floor running a finger over a wet strand of red hair. "En's got some long game in mind. Maybe he'd have had to sacrifice you to her followers, I don't know. Maybe he knows more about what she can do than we do." He shrugs. "We have to trust him."

"So fucking sacrifice me. Like to see them try, anyway, I'll kill all of them." His arms hug tighter to his knees as his lower lip trembles. "It's a really stupid game if he can just watch so many of our people die." A huff, and he lifts one hand to angrily scrub it over his eyes. "R-really hate this. Hate her."

Sometimes, it's easy to remember how young Kouha really is.

"She'll get hers," he promises, and his eyes lid slightly, imagining a few more imaginative ends for Gyokuen that he and Kouha had brainstormed. "When En's ready. Maybe he wants her to underestimate you."

"Well, he sure as hell did a good job of making her do that today by sending me to my room like I'm a kid." Hot, angry tears well up again, and Kouha slinks down further into the water, no matter that it's getting cold. "Just gonna drown myself."

"At least wait until the slaves re-heat it," Koumei says practically. "Come on, En doesn't think you're a kid. He gave you an army. And from what I heard you led it really well. If that bitch hadn't interfered you'd be sitting in Laem right now with the Emperor's severed head in your lap."

Ugh. The reminder of it makes it impossible not to cry, and Kouha dunks his head entirely in an attempt to keep his eyes from getting too red before he comes up again, sniffling. "Stupid. Even Judal panders to her, it's gross. H-how am I supposed to keep my mouth shut in court, I just want to kill her-"

"You know court games are beyond me." Usually even attending court is beyond Koumei. "But if you don't play the game, you let her win, don't you? En needs to count on us, or at least you. We're the only ones who don't play both sides."

"Hate this," Kouha tiredly repeats, and with a last, angry swipe over his eyes, finally makes to drag himself out. "Throw me my robe or something, will you? I'm cold."

Koumei grabs the robe, and rubs Kouha down with a few quick pats of a towel before wrapping him in it. "You're the only person I wait on," he says with the barest hint of a smile, or what passes for one on his face.

"You're missing your calling," Kouha mumbles, huddling himself down into his robe and blowing a strand of damp hair out of his face. "You're lucky. En's not gonna make you go to war. I mean, it's what I wanted, but someone like you…" He trails off, a brief twinge of anxiety at the mere thought furrowing his brow. "If it had been you out there…" If I hadn't been able to keep you safe-"Ugh. It was a mess, Mei."

Koumei huffs out a breath, ruffling the bangs in his face. "I asked En if I could go with you. He said he had something else for me to do, but he didn't. He doesn't think I can take care of myself." I could take care of you, though. If she ever makes you cry again I'll kill her myself. "I'll ask him again before you leave."

"No." It makes him cold just thinking about it. "Even if he said yes, I'd tell him you were entirely useless deadweight and I don't want you to come."

"I'd try harder for you," Koumei says, and sinks into one of the overstuffed love seats. "I hate thinking of you out there at her mercy. At least if she gave shitty orders I could countermand them and take the blame."

"That's not the problem," Kouha sighs, scrubbing a hand through his hair as he flops down at the opposite end and drops his feet right into Koumei's lap. "It's bad enough that so many of our people died and I couldn't do anything about it, no matter how hard I tried. It's… if you were one of those, and I couldn't do anything…" A sardonic smile pulls at his lips. "Yeah, I'd never forgive myself."

"Don't be dumb, I can take care of myself." Koumei drops a hand down to Kouha's leg, rubbing little patterns over it. "I mean, I don't, but I can. Could. If I felt like it." He assumes he could, at any rate. "If things got sticky I could always use my djinn." For about twenty seconds, until he got tired.

"… Mei," is the weary reply as Kouha lets his head loll back and over the arm of the loveseat, "your djinn isn't good in combat at all, and you're a twig even though you just sit and eat and play in books and ink all day. You'd die. Just… take my word for it."

Koumei squeezes a foot affectionately. "Rather just give En his intelligence reports anyway. Don't worry, I'm not suddenly developing a backbone. I just worry about you."

"Yeah, well, as long as I don't have to worry about you, that's fine." Kouha wriggles his toes. "I've got a big sword, kills a lot of people."

"I like your big sword," Koumei says with a nudge, pinching a toe. "I was hearing all kinds of reports about you. They called you the Red Scourge, how sexy is that?"

Okay, that makes him feel a little bit better. Koumei's good at that, always has been. "I didn't get much of a chance to hear about the good stuff," Kouha admits, his eyes lidding.

Koumei's voice turns dreamy, taking on the storytelling tone he'd always used to soothe Kouha to sleep at night with tales of fearsome warriors and their conquests. "We got messenger spells and pigeons from all over," he murmurs, stroking down one slender leg. "People were panicking because you were coming, going to temples and locking themselves inside to pray to their heathen gods. One town offered to take En as their god if he'd keep you away."

That definitely makes him feel better. "Really good," he breathes, stretching his legs out a bit more to let Koumei pet and stroke to his heart's content. "Guess En didn't take up that offer, because I sure as hell never got orders to stop. God, I was so close to Laem, too."

"En laughed in his face," Koumei says dreamily, hands working up and down those legs. "Told him to pray to you, if he was so afraid. We heard the next day that you wiped that village off the map, god, I was so proud of you."

Those are sore muscles Kouha didn't even realize he had, and ahh, it feels good for them to dissolve underneath his brother's touch. "Only good thing about you being there with me would be coming back to you-ahh, fuck, right there," Kouha sighs, scooting a bit closer. "And enjoying my victories with you."

Koumei strokes a thumb down a tense calf, then up Kouha's thighs. "That would be worth getting dressed in the morning for," he breathes. "Worth going to war for. Battle still make you hard, little brother?"

"As much as talking about my conquests apparently makes you." Impossible not to wriggle a foot over and drag it between Koumei's legs, really. "Does no one take care of you while I'm away?"

Koumei's eyes lid, and he strokes a little higher up Kouha's thigh, thighs parting at the touch of that wriggling foot. "Not like you do. And no one who's a war hero." Just the guards, and a couple particularly bad nights where he'd snuck into the city to a club he's not supposed to know about, wrapped up in a disguise until he got what he needed.

Hardly a war hero. War heroes come back with their armies safe and happy.

Kouha's mouth twists and he shoves that thought away. "Still the same old Mei, then," he murmurs, and he lurches up, making a grab for Koumei's robes to pull him closer. "I'm pretty tired," he breathlessly admits. "You wanna suck my cock? The girls don't do it like you do."

Koumei leans into his brother's touch almost gratefully, nuzzling down against him before pawing open the front of his robe. "No one takes care of you like I do," he agrees. If they did, I'd kill them. "Missed the taste of you." He bends down, sighing through his nose as he closes his mouth around the tip of that familiar, flushed cock, slowly suckling it to hardness.

It's really, really good to be home again.

It's that, and even more so the fact that it's Koumei, his mouth slick and hot and perfect like it always is, making him hard so fast that he's lightheaded from the rush of blood going south. "You're such a slut," is the affectionate, ragged exhale to follow, and Kouha drags his fingers back through his brother's hair, twisting them down into the thick of it and scraping against his scalp as his hips lurch up, shoving further against Koumei's tongue. "Want me to choke you with it?" Kouha eagerly asks. "You always look so pretty with your mouth stuffed full."

Koumei's purr around the cock in his mouth only gets louder at the filthy, degrading words, and he sucks eagerly, working his mouth down, pulling off only to murmur, "Choke me, make me cry, please let me cry for you," before sliding back down, eyes half-lidded at the yank to his hair. He's already painfully hard at the musky taste leaking into his mouth, the fact that no one in the world knows his mind like Kouha does, the fact that it's his little brother pulling his strings so sweetly, so cruelly.

If Koumei isn't perfect, then no one is. Kouha shudders hard, fisting his hands tighter into his brother's hair, yanking as his hips thrust up, sliding long and hard over that hot, wet tongue, down that perfect throat that spasms around him when he shoves in deep enough that Mei's nose nuzzles into his belly. "God, this is what you're made for," he groans, twisting to better fuck into Koumei's mouth. "Listen to you, you sound like a messy whore."

Koumei gags hard, tears spilling down his face as he chokes for breath around Kouha's cock, hands squeezing Kouha's thighs as he lets himself be jerked around and used, no better than any whore, worse because he doesn't even need money. These are the times he comes alive, the times he lives for, when his life is in Kouha's merciless hands. He looks up through bleary eyes as best he can, dripping tears onto Kouha's stomach as he chokes, cock so hard between his legs it aches, and that only makes everything better.

If anything inspires him to have a little bit of energy, it's Mei.

His mouth is so hot and slick and perfect, it's hard not to lose himself just a few thrusts in. It takes effort to pull out, to send Koumei sprawling onto his back on the loveseat, to crawl his way up with a knee digging into his chest as he fists his own cock. "Love it when you're such a slut, Mei," he pants out, wrapping his other hand back up into his brother's ponytail, yanking hard and holding his head in place. "Love fucking you. No one sucks my cock like you, no one takes it like such a good little bitch-ahh, god-" The hard shudder that rakes up his spine at that is too much to bear, and Kouha grits his teeth as he comes, making sure to spill over Koumei's face, dripping over his lashes and cheeks and lips.

Koumei gasps for breath, face splotchy and bruised under the mess, licking hungrily at his lips for all he can taste, not wanting to wipe it off yet because he loves the look and feel of Kouha's come on his face. "Love being a good bitch for you," he groans, hands petting up Kouha's thighs, hips rutting up helplessly into the air. "I love it when you put me in my place, god, no one fucks me like you."

On top of him now, Kouha looks every inch the war hero, the maddened general, with blood in his senses and victory on his mind, and Koumei shivers, longing to be conquered thoroughly by that power.

"You're my bitch," Kouha breathes in affirmation, grinning as he wriggles back, grinding the curve of his ass down against Koumei's cock. "Mmnn, one reason I wish I could bring you with me-after every battle I won, I'd come back and fuck you senseless. Everyone could hear you screaming, tents don't muffle a damn thing."

"You could parade me around after," Koumei murmurs, eyes alight at the idea of it, rocking up against Kouha's ass with a little shudder. "Hold meetings with me on my knees next to you, where I belong." God, he's so hard, and the words aren't helping, either his own or Kouha's.

That mental image isn't fair. It goes straight to his cock, no matter how he's already come once, and it's with a groan that Kouha wriggles back, shoving Koumei's legs apart and robes up and out of the way. "Be glad I have good stamina, or I'd be pissed off that you made me come so fast already when I want to fuck you," he growls, eyes flickering about for a bottle of oil-ah, to hell with it. Koumei can walk for a limp afterwards, he'll love it. He spits on his hand, swiping it over his hardening cock. "Look how hard you are. You gonna be able to stand it, or are you going to come the second I shove it in you?"

"I'm not sure," Koumei admits, spreading his legs eagerly. Kouha doesn't fuck him very often, and it's been ages since he's been home. "What will you do to me if I come fast?" Sometimes Kouha's punishments are the best part about going to bed with him, leaving him trembling and sobbing and used, bleeding and bruised in creative places and as hard as he can ever remember being-but sometimes they're too cruel, leaving him alone for too long, grabbing his balls and squeezing too tight for good pain, or simply Kouha being disappointed in him. "I'll be good, I'll do what you want, just fuck me raw, Ha-"

Fucking hell, but Koumei is going to make him come again before he even gets his cock in. He huffs out a hot breath, digging his nails into one, creamy white thigh, splaying his brother's legs open wider as he guides his cock to that tight, twitching little hole. "If you come before I say you can," he pants out, eyes rolling back when the head of his cock presses inside, that first, initial shove too tight, too tense, "ah… fuck, I'm gonna shove your face to the floor and really fuck you like a dog." One hand jerks up, slapping the side of Koumei's face as Kouha shoves his way in the last few inches, gritting his teeth. "Relax, or you're going to hurt me, you slut."

Damn, but that's a good punishment, and it's a good thing too, because there's no way Koumei's going to last long when Kouha shoves into him like that, too dry, too fast, and Koumei's whole body trembles with it. He doesn't want to relax, he wants it to hurt, wants to feel it a week from now, but an order is an order, and he takes a deep gulp of breath, relaxing a bit with his thighs spread wide open. "Fuck me," he hiccups, leaning into every cruel touch. "Fuck me, fuck me like your whore, fuck-"

It's too much even now, and he lets out a dry sob as he comes hard over his own stomach, eyes gone dark as his vision blacks out.

Yeah, this is definitely why he likes coming home.

Kouha languidly grins, exhaling a long, hot breath as he simply hauls Koumei off of him by the hair, tossing his limp body to the floor like a rag doll. He drags a hand up his brother's stomach, using the slick, dripping mess of his come to make his own cock a bit slicker as he shoves back in with a grunt. "Wake up, Mei," he croons, fisting a hand back into his brother's hair to haul him back onto his cock. "Need you at least half-way coherent to be a good hole for me."

"I'll be good," Koumei mumbles, only half-conscious at first, waking up with Kouha's hand in his hair. "Y-yeah, just like that." He swallows hard, hands fisting against the floor, feeling the slick slide of Kouha inside him. "F-fuck me with my own seed, god, you have the best cock, I'll be a good hole for you," he promises breathlessly, clenching down no matter how he tries to relax, too delighted at being impaled over and over again to do anything but behave.

It's good feeling Koumei squeeze around him now that it's a bit slicker, and Kouha groans, releasing his brother's hair with a shove downward to better grab hold of his hips and hold him still while he fucks him. Each thrust is deep, harder still than the last, not particularly caring about being precise when Koumei's already come on his cock and is just a shuddering thing underneath him, and that's the best, when he can just fuck him however the hell he wants. "Whore," he affectionately mutters, and one hand slides up, kneading roughly, possessively into the curve of Koumei's ass before his hand cracks across it, hard enough to immediately leave a red handprint. "You're gonna be all bruised up tomorrow. All fucked up. I'm gonna watch you while you try and sit still, you'll just be squirming."

Koumei's cock twitches back to life at that slap, at the knowledge that it's for Kouha's pleasure to hurt him, not for his own, and that makes everything so much better. He presses his cheek down onto the floor, a ragged moan coming from his mouth as he shoves weakly back into every thrust. "All fucked up," he agrees breathlessly. "Won't be able to sit down for a week if you keep spanking me like that."

One of his hands comes up to his ear and the earring Kouha had thrust through it years ago, tugging and twisting, getting off on the memory of that pain as hard as on the current pounding of Kouha deep inside him and the burning of that handprint on his ass. "You should-pierce something else," he groans, sagging forward against the floor at the mere thought.

Koumei is definitely trying to kill him.

He has to grit his teeth to keep from coming just at that thought, and the next slap is harder, the knead of his fingers into the reddened skin afterwards that much rougher, and Kouha's fingers dig into his brother's hips hard enough to bruise there, too, as he hauls him back, hissing out a breath at how deep he slides inside. "Y-yeah? Maybe," Kouha pants out, leaning forward, a hand scrabbling its way up Koumei's chest to pinch and pull at a nipple through his robes, "I'll shove a slave's ring through here later. Then you'll really-be as low as a whore-"

He comes hard, muffling his cries into Koumei's back, far from gentle as he shoves his cock in as deep as he can and grinds against his brother's ass with every pulse and twitch that rakes through him. "God," he groans, sagging forward. "You're… not fucking fair."

"Your slave."

The words are raw and ragged, forced out of a hoarse throat as Koumei trembles, sagging down onto his face on the floor. "I'll be...such a good slave for you…" he can barely breathe, barely think, mind as full as his ass. "You can brand me too," he mutters, "put it all over me so everyone can see, keep me naked and beat me when you're horny...god, please, I…"

He's a little lost, only gets like this sometimes when it's hard to get out of that mindset, only lets himself go this far with Kouha.

Ahh, Koumei better not let himself get like this when he's away. That would make Kouha a little upset-less out of any jealousy, more out of worry that anyone else would take it too far and do something stupid and hurt his brother beyond repair. "Yeah, you'd be an awfully pretty slave," he murmurs, stroking a soothing hand up Koumei's spine as he pulls out with a wince. Even he's sore after all that. "You already are though, aren't you? Don't need a ring or brand to prove it. Though… the ring was a fun idea. Come up here," he adds as he drags himself back onto the loveseat, snuggling back into his robe and hauling Koumei up by the arm. "Wanna play with your hair, you can relax now, you did really good."

Koumei shudders deeply, blinking tears away as he slowly comes back to himself. He nods, not entirely sure what he's agreeing with, and lets Kouha drag him up to the loveseat, curling arms around him like a stuffed animal. "Good, good. You're...good."

"Really good," Kouha cheerfully corrects, threading his fingers through Koumei's hair and tugging his hair tie loose in the process. He's already messed the whole thing up anyway, might as well pet and play with it properly. "You're always so perfect, Mei. No one is as fun to play with as you. I'm really glad to be home and with you."

Another long slow breath, and Koumei feels more like himself again, raw and empty, but so, so much better than before. "You too." Yeah, he can say words now. "Ugh, I let that go too long. Was waiting for you, thank you."

"Ahh, I'm glad to hear that, really. I'd be upset if you let someone else see you like that." It's one thing that Koumei lets other people fuck him and hurt him. That's fine. It's something else entirely when he gets… well, like that. "They don't know how to take care of you, anyway," Kouha grumbles, plucking at a few strands of his brother's hair to begin braiding it. "Not worth your time."

"Mmm. Don't let anyone see me like that but you." Koumei butts his head against Kouha's hands, sleepily content now, and secretly delighted at the way Kouha is thinking of something, anything other than the scene in the audience chamber. "They're only good for faceless stuff. Sometimes I need it faceless."

"Yeah, I get that." Kinda like how random girls are fun, too, for kicks. They don't like being slapped around so much, which is fine, so he doesn't, but putting his dick in something on a cold night is still nice, when he's in the middle of the desert. "Want me to grab a slave to run you a bath? Or do you wanna stay like this a bit longer?"

"If you're gonna run me a bath," Koumei says slowly, stroking up and down Kouha's arm, "make sure it's one of my slaves. I don't trust the others, they could be working for her. I love what we do, but I'm not going to help her hurt En no matter what."

"Fuck that, I'll run it myself," Kouha mutters, not in the mood to slink around and avoid En while looking for specific people. Koumei's right, of course; Gyoukuen would eat this sort of thing up, spread rumors far and wide and ugh, how annoying would it be if En made either of them to marry just to make the rumor mill calm down a bit? "Does he fuck her?" he can't help but ask, no matter how it makes him gag. "God, imagine those babies. Groooooss."

Koumei gags a little. "At least you're not here when she's trying to work her charm on him. She tried it on me once, disgusting. I can't wait until he's done playing whatever game he's running and just kills her. Good thing he's not one for making bastards."

Okay, that image makes him outright laugh. "She doesn't try with me. Probably too young for her tastes, old hag. Ahh, I wish I could have seen your face, though."

"She's an idiot if she thinks I'm a better bet than you," Koumei says with a roll of his eyes. "I don't doubt my face looked like that time we tried eating in the city and I got half a mouse in my kebab."

Kouha fairly cackles. "It's good that she doesn't hit on me, though. I'd threaten to shove my sword down her throat. You know, my actual sword."

At that mental image, a little shiver of anticipation goes through Koumei. "I'd love to see that. I love watching you swing that thing around, especially through her. I wish I knew what dark spell she wove on Father."

"No telling, considering she's Al-Sarmen's witch," Kouha mutters, sighing as he plucks and toys with Koumei's hair. "You know, the Kou Empire did just fine before we had to answer to them all the time."

"Mm, but now we get to learn new and interesting ways of manipulation," Koumei says, bored even with the sarcasm in his own tone. "En's playing a dangerous game. He thinks he's using them, they think they're using him. One of them's wrong, and they've been around for a long time."

"… Not to mention Judal, who's a bloody idiot and thinks along the same lines," Kouha sighs, shaking his head. "See, this is why I start freaking out when En calls me off when it comes to that witch. What if he goes to her side and we just don't know it?"

Koumei's heart beats a little faster for a moment. "Careful," he warns, voice as calm and sleepy as ever. "Know what you're saying if you talk about doubting him. I'm not saying don't do it, but be careful." After a second, his hand tightens on Kouha's. "We're going to have to make a choice, you know."

"Not sure what there's left to choose other than this empire, one way or another," Kouha mutters, his fingers squeezing tight around Koumei's. "I'm not doubting him. I just… wish he'd be a little more open with us, at least, with his plans."

"So do I." Kouha sighs, shrugging. "Maybe he's testing our loyalty, I don't know. He wouldn't have done that before, but he's so wrapped up in their games now it's hard to tell. No matter what, I'll always be with you, all right? You know you can count on me."

"Yeah." And that makes it a little easier to breathe, when it comes down to it. "And I'll make sure to keep you safe, no matter what. We make a pretty good team, at the end of the day."

"If we can ever leave the bed," Koumei says dryly. "Hey, we conquered that dungeon, didn't we? And no one thought I could."

"… Yeeeah, I kinda walked you through that one. Don't give yourself too many shoulder pats."

"You didn't walk me, I had to walk myself. It was a really long way. You just took care of all the danger."

"I'm starting to be glad we just have the same father. You had to inherit your innate ability to just flop on your back all the time and do nothing else from your mother."

"I thought you liked me on my back."

"Not in a dungeon. Where's your sense of adventure, anyway?"

"Ugh, I'm rich, I don't need one. I have servants for that." Koumei reaches up, touching the earring Kouha had pierced him with and feeling the seal of Solomon inscribed there. "I don't see what's so good about going places when you're just going to come back anyway."

"So laaazy, Mei," Kouha sighs out, flopping backwards. "I'll learn from your example, then. You can just stay a mess all night, I'm not getting up to draw you a bath. Too comfy right now."

Koumei's cock gives a half-hearted twitch at that. "I like it when you leave me messy all night," he murmurs, and curls an arm around his brother, pulling him close.

"Good," Kouha murmurs, snuggling up against him. "Maybe you'll still be all slick inside when we wake up, hmm?" he adds wickedly, tilting his head up nip lightly at that earring. "We can have more fun."

Koumei shivers. "You should take me in my sleep," he breathes, tightening his arm. "Whether I want you to or not."

You always want it, you slut. "Maybe I will. It'll be a surprise," Kouha sighs, wriggling closer. "After I get some good sleep."

It's a pity that when he wakes, Kouha doesn't exactly feel like making use of the warm body wrapped around him.

Sorry, Mei, he thinks, swinging his legs over the side of the loveseat that they ended up passed out on. Too lazy to make it even to bed in the end-Mei is rubbing off on him. Kouha heaves a slow, quiet sigh, raking a hand back through his hair and trying not to think about how normally, his three favorite servants would be already fighting it out for the privilege of brushing his hair, or helping him dress-

There's those stupid, angry tears again that always well up the moment he recalls, all too vividly, the exact moment their bolg ran out and he couldn't do a damned thing to save them.

Can't let that happen again.

It's early, and Koumei won't roll himself out of bed for some time. Better that way-it gives him a little time to slip off without his advice and chiding ringing in his ears. Kouha dresses quickly and silently, opting for more formal attire, considering the door he's going to be knocking on that morning. God, he doesn't even want to know what he looks like, truth be told. The aches and pains he's been ignoring are out full force in the early morning, his sword arm a constant, nagging throb, his legs aching and tired, and he's got a crick in his neck that he wishes he still had a pretty servant to work out-

Kouha twists a quick braid through a few strands of hair before slipping out of his chambers. En has to speak to him, he just has to. He's calmer now, and he'll behave and everything. At least, that's what Kouha tells himself as he knocks on his eldest brother's study, trying not to wrench the door off of its hinges already.

It will be Kouha, of course.

Kouen straightens his back, hearing a couple pops and cracks that hadn't been there ten years ago. Very well, he'd known he'd have to have this conversation sooner or later. "Leave us," he says quietly, and Hakuei slips out the back door, by now used to these moments. "Kouha. Come in."

Kouha tries not to be a little too fast in opening the door, tries even more to remember to bow once he's inside and it's shut properly behind him. "En-ah, Your Highness." He's got to remember titles better than this one of these days, but it's a little difficult when he calls his other older brother that outranks him a slut on a daily basis. "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting anything, but I needed to speak with you."

Kouen waves a hand. "I assumed you were coming eventually, though I take it Koumei managed to placate you for this long. Have a seat." He pulls a second cup out of a drawer, and stands to pour the tea, sitting afterwards behind his own steaming cup. "Is it to ask me questions that you have come, or to shout at me?"

It's difficult not to feel like a seven year old again, barely capable of swinging a sword, when Kouen talks to him like that. Kouha feels his cheeks flush, and he sits, staring at the steam of his own cup rather than drink. "I didn't mean to shout at you. I was… just really upset."

"Understandable." Kouen picks up his own cup, eyes narrowed to slits as he watches Kouha over the rim. "Do you trust me, Kouha?"

Kouha blinks at that question. "Yes. Of course I do, En-Your Highness-I just-" He frowns, dropping his gaze again as his brow furrows. "I don't understand why you would let her do that. Those were our people, and a lot of them, that she sent to their deaths. I hadn't had a single casualty prior to her overriding my orders, so why? You had to have known she was doing it."

"There is a longer game at work here. It isn't your fault you can't see it, of course." He doubts anyone can. Hakuei can see some, Koumei another part, Gyoukuen more than he wants her to, but none of them can see as far as endgame, not like he can. "Trust me, if you can, when I say that for the moment, it was necessary. You'll have another army, eventually."

"Eventually?" Don't get angry. Don't get upset. Kouha sucks in a slow, steadying breath. "Maybe if you explained it to me, just a little more-you know I trust you, but-"

Kouen raises an eyebrow. "It was necessary, for the moment. What more do you need to know?" If Kouha is developing a rebellious streak, he'll need to do something about-no, no, Kouha is loyal, simply upset. And his brother, for what that's worth. He gives in, just a little. "You were very useful in the field. But I need you somewhere else soon, and when our Empress made a suggestion," don't forget the walls have ears, little brother, "I felt it was prudent to heed her advice."

"You felt it was prudent." There's no stopping the way his voice shakes now from ill-concealed rage. His fingers curl against his knees, fisting into his robes. "She killed all of my men. She killed my servants, which were some of the strongest magicians we had, and you felt that was prudent? What could possibly be more important than me leading us to victory in Laem?! No one is going to want to serve under me after this, En! She made me come home a disgrace and it wasn't my fault!"

"Laem is not the end." Kouen takes a sip of tea. "One campaign does not make a war, little brother. Not every enemy will always be in front of you, and one failure does not make you a bad commander. It's time you learned this. Not everything you're blamed for will always be your fault. And once you are no longer in disgrace, you will have an army again."

One of his hands slams down onto the table. "I don't want another army if it means she'll just send them to their deaths, too! Why are you pandering to her? Why won't you tell us anything?!"

"You forget your place." The words come out sharp and cold, and Kouen's eyes harden. "If you are going to act so much a fool upon your return, then perhaps you weren't truly ready for this command in the first place. Maybe I will give it to Koumei instead."

Kouha wants to scream.

En was never like this before Al-Sarmen, before that witch, and it makes him want to claw at his hair in frustration, makes him want to reach over and shake his eldest brother. Instead, it's the thought of Koumei being dragged into war because of his too-sharp tongue that makes him sit back and shut up, teeth gritted as he glares down into his tea. "My apologies, Your Highness." It's torture, trying to grind out the words and not snarl. "The only reason I ask is because I want to better help."

Kouen folds his hands, looking at Kouha through the steam, settling back into his chair. "I need to be able to count on you, Kouha. I need you," he says carefully, eyes darting to the door and windows more for Kouha's benefit, to intimate that there are always people listening, "to be more than people expect you to be. I need you to be as smart and capable as Mei and I know you are."

Kouha doesn't care if there are people listening. God dammit, there are ways around that. Let me kill them, kill them yourself, we can go out and pretend to conquer a dungeon, something, anything. "I am all of that, En," he desperately tries again, leaning forward. "I just want to help, just tell me what you need me to do."

"I need you," Kouen says, with a hint of steel in his voice now, "to do as you're told. Behave and be a good little prince in disgrace. Take some new servants, slap them around until you feel better. Wait for my instructions."

There's no stopping the way his lower lip trembles. "You're not being fair. I've done nothing but follow your orders so far, why am I being the one punished for all of this?"

"Because I need you to be." Kouen looks up, holding his eyes. "Or are you only loyal when it brings you praise?"

"I don't need praise, I just-"

This would be so, so much easier if I knew to what end this would bring us.

It's no use. Looking at Kouen is proof to that, clear as day, and Kouha swallows hard, looking away after another moment. "Fine. I'll do as you say."

"Good. Go on, then. When I have need of you, I'll send for you." Kouen drains his teacup, then picks up a sheaf of reports, already starting to scan them.

Kouha tries very hard not to slam the door on his way out.

Not as much can be said for his bedroom door, and the force with which he yanks it closed makes his arm start throbbing all over again. His bed, at least, doesn't take as much punishment-except for the pillow that he grabs to scream into before he can rip it to shreds.

Koumei gives him space.

He hears it when Kouha storms back into his room, just as everyone in the palace must, and the most he can be grateful for is that Kouha hasn't used his djinn. That would be really unsafe, is threatening at the best of times, and right now would probably tear the palace down around their ears.

Koumei waits, busying himself as much as he cares to with reports from his men, compiling them for Kouen and sending them off after a few hours, then letting his servants dress him and send him down to Kouha's room. He slinks inside, not bothering to knock, and simply sits on the floor, reading through his papers.

"I hate them." The words are muffled, a little raw around the edges and punctuated with a sniff even though Kouha doesn't lift his head from where he's curled up in bed around a pillow. "Really hate all of them. How hard would she be to assassinate, you think?"

"I've offered." Koumei shuffles his papers, making a note on one of them with a charcoal stick. "I don't think it would be that hard, but En told me to wait. Says there's more at work here." He sighs, making a lazily vicious line through a word. "I don't know what to think anymore. It just comes down to trusting him."

"He told me to be a good little prince in disgrace-" Kouha wrenches up another pillow, throwing it as hard as he can into the wall where it explodes into feathers. "Told me to just 'get new servants'-I don't want new ones! The ones I had were good and loyal, no one is going to even want to work for me!"

Koumei winces. That had been tactless of En, they all know how Kouha is with his servants. Putting him in disgrace is bad enough when he'd done so well, but to take away the people closest to his friends? "People die in war," he says quietly. "They'll still want to work for you, you're a prince. I'll give you some of mine if you want."

"I don't want them to work for me because I'm a prince." His face fucking hurts. Maybe one of these days he'll stop crying, but it's not going to be right now. "And yours are scared of me, I don't want them either. Mine shouldn't have died in the first place, no one should have, why isn't En more upset?"

"He doesn't see them anymore." That's the explanation Koumei's come up with, over the last several months. "He doesn't ride out there anymore, he just sees them as numbers on the ledgers I hand him, or pieces on his chessboard. He doesn't know any of them. And…" Koumei hesitates, then closes his eyes for a moment, extending the power of his djinn. It's useless in combat, and takes time to drain a human of magoi, but works fine to sap any listening spells in the room. "I think he sees us as the same, lately."

"… But we're his brothers." Kouha lifts his head, sniffling and scrubbing at his face before blinking red-eyed over at Koumei. "We're the ones most loyal to him, how can we just be a number on a page?"

"Because when you're Kouen," Koumei says slowly, "loyalty just means numbers you can count on. I'm not saying he's like that all the time, but when he retreats to his planning sessions after War Councils...he comes up with things you never would if you're thinking about human lives instead of ledgers. More and more, lately. I don't know if it's that witch or if it's them, but it's more and more."

"I want to kill her." His voice is steady when he says that, at least. "She's a part of them, killing her will give them less hold over the empire and En, don't you think?"

"Maaaaybe." Koumei tucks his knees under himself, thinking. "It would be a statement. You know that, right? We might go to war against Al-Sarmen."

"Good. Maybe they'll go away too, then. They're messing with En and making him like this. I at least thought they wanted him in charge-that's why they gave him Judal."

Koumei snorts. "And look how well that turned out. He almost tipped our hand, sent Sindria against us before we were ready, and lost us a little sister besides. But if you get En involved in a war he doesn't want, he'll do worse than put you in disgrace, Ha."

"We haven't lost Gyoku, she's just… well, she's a girl, girls are silly," Kouha sighs, rolling over onto his back to stare at the ceiling. "I just hate sitting here and doing nothing. That bitch needs to die already, I don't understand what end game En is going for."

"If you don't understand it," Koumei says slowly, "you probably shouldn't try to change it. We trust him, right?" Please say yes. I don't want to do this without you, it's hard enough with you and I'm not sure I'd even stay if you turned. "He's always been hard to read, hasn't he? But things work out fine in the end."

"Before, there wasn't Al-Sarmen to deal with." Kouha pulls a pillow over his face. "They're the ones I don't trust."

"But they teamed up. They're on the same side now, for better or worse." Koumei shrugs. "If you attack them, you're against him, in his eyes. Just...think it through, and let me know if you're going to do anything, all right? I'm trying to keep you safe."

Kouha's mouth twists, unseen. "… I'm not going to do anything. I'm being a good little prince in disgrace, remember?" He's going to start crying again at this rate. "I just really fucking hate them."

"So do I." The effort of suppressing the magic in the room wears on him, and Koumei lets it go with a sigh. "It won't be so bad if you stay in the palace, you know. No one here is going to say anything about it."

"Yeah, because I really love sitting cooped up in my room all day when I'm home in the Imperial City for once." Kouha slowly rolls toward the edge of the bed. "Can I just quit? What's that thing Judal always does… wraps himself up like a worm or something."

"If you start taking advice for how to deal with difficult situations from Judal," Koumei warns, "you're going to have a lot bigger problems than not telling which end you're shitting out of like a worm." This is a hard day. He slumps over, abandoning his papers for now.

"Gross." A thump, and Kouha hits the ground on top of one of his pillows. "I should try and talk to Hakuei. They're definitely fucking nowadays."

"Yeah." Koumei scoots slowly over, nudging his head against Kouha's shoulder. "Better her than the witch. At least Hakuei won't try to stick a knife in him when he's sleeping."

Kouha rolls over a bit more, flopping himself on top of his brother. "Yeah, Hakuei's fine. What if he actually gets her pregnant? That'd be funny, I wanna see Hakuryuu's face."

"If he even can." It's not something they talk about much, but Koumei's at the end of his patience with En's treatment of their little brother. "Maybe with Paimon his seed will actually be able to take hold for once."

Well, since Koumei said it-"At this rate, it's gonna be my bastards taking over the empire," he snickers, butting his face into Koumei's neck. "En should go out and campaign again for once, all that sitting at his desk and playing with maps is what makes his balls freeze over."

Koumei can't help but smirk at that. "Not true, I was on campaign with him his first time. Left a trail of broken hearts behind, but nothing else." Ah, it's mean of him to talk like this, but En made Kouha cry. "Well, and a couple broken bones. He used to get so angry when he was out there."

Kouha rolls his eyes. "'Broken hearts' my ass, he's so awkward when it comes to girls. I know, I've bedded a few of the same ones. They're either scared or want to just lie there. Boring, how does he even get off?"

"He has weird taste," Koumei agrees. "He doesn't know how to talk about what he wants and gets angry when they don't give it to him. He used to do the same to his generals back then-ah, you don't remember Partevia, you must have been five or six."

"… I'm going to feel sorry for Hakuei if she does end up pregnant. Think he'll actually marry her?" Kouha shifts, propping his head up into his hands. "And no, I don't remember Partevia very much. Remember, they tried to keep me all locked up and protected, which was funny because I just wanted to go practice sword fighting with En."

"That's because Father's other bastards were sickly," Koumei reminds him. "Only you and Gyoku lived past three, that's why he brought you to the palace." He reaches a hand out, combing through soft pink strands with his fingers. "I wouldn't be surprised if your sons were emperors one day."

Kouha sticks out his tongue at that. "That implies I'm gonna get married. What woman's gonna put up with me like you do?"

"A masochistic one. Come on, you know En's going to make you get married sooner or later." Koumei tugs gently. "He's already doing it to me, parading girls around while you're gone and threatening me out of the corner of his mouth."

"I think En needs to worry about making babies of his own and less about where our dicks are going," Kouha mutters, turning his head to nip at Koumei's fingers before kissing the same spots. "You'd be an awful husband, much better wife."

Koumei shivers at the scrape of Kouha's teeth, almost melting down onto the floor. "Being a wife is boring, you have to clean and stuff. I'll just be that crazy uncle that never leaves his room except when you come home."

"Rich wives don't have to clean. Whatever wife I end up with better not be boring, I'll go insane if she's some vapid thing." That makes him shudder. "Alliance marriages, though."

"Mmm, what if she screams and cries the first time you hit her?" Koumei asks dreamily, rubbing his face against Kouha's shoulder. "How will you make sons to take over the Empire then?"

"I sleep with plenty of girls that don't like being hit," Kouha mutters, giving Koumei's hair a little tug. "It's just more fun if they do like it. Hey, don't get all touchyfeely right now, you don't want me to play with you, trust me."

Koumei rolls over onto his back, running a finger down Kouha's arm. "You sure? Might help you relive stress, and you were really good to me yesterday, I can handle you."

"If I start hurting you, I don't think I'm gonna be able to stop," Kouha bluntly replies, his eyes lidding. "Then it's not fun anymore. I like you in one piece, you know."

Koumei sighs. "Yeah, all right. You should blow something up, let that djinn of yours out to play. Doesn't he make you antsy when you don't use him for a while?" Inwardly, his own djinn shivers at the thought.

"I used him plenty the other day." Kouha rolls off and to the side, flopping onto his back. "I don't even feel like blowing things up. I just… ugh. I hate everything."

Koumei's eyes lid. He's laying down, that happens more often than not, and he yawns. "When's the last time you ate something?"

Ah. His stomach definitely growls at that. "Uhh… good question." He sort of traveled really long and fast and then got here and screamed at people and yeah, food. Who has time for food. "That stupid Magi didn't clean the kitchens out again, did he?"

"Nah, he's been messing around with Hakuryuu lately, they went out into the desert for some fucking reason. You want me to have something brought to you?"

"Maybe they're fucking. And nah, I'll get up and get it," Kouha sighs, rolling a bit more before forcing himself to sit up. "You look comfortable. At least pass out on my bed this time, geez."

"Why?" Koumei almost manages the energy to roll over, but loses motivation halfway through and flops back down to his stomach. "m'fine here. Eat a lot, okay? And stop talking about gross things, you'll turn my stomach."

"Well, as long as you're happy," Kouha grumbles, reaching over to give his brother's ponytail a tug before heaving himself to his feet. Ah, he probably looks like shit. Maybe flirting with some of the kitchen staff will make him feel a little better, at least. "Have a good nap, Mei." It's inevitable, anyway.