Disclaimer: Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicles is the intellectual property of CLAMP
Author's Note: I actually did finish one of the fics that I was working on but I no longer like the title so I won't post it till I can think of a better one. So here's the second world: a kind of an arabian-esque setting. Enjoy!
2nd World: A Rather Dense King and A Waiting Slave
"This one is very beautiful, sire."
"Beautiful things don't last long."
The first time that Kurogane had looked down on the fair-skinned, fair-haired young man, he had been unmoved and unimpressed. It was true that the slave was beautiful, that his smile was inviting and even possibly willing but Kurogane had been seventeen; he had taken the throne at the age of fifteen and he was tired already. He had seen many young nobles and slaves with beautiful faces and lovely smiles in his lifetime. It took those traits scarce years to fade away into worry lines and wrinkles and thin-lipped, well-trained expressions.
It had happened to him in just two years.
He did not care for beauty or smiles. He did not care to wed and produce heirs to present the kingdom. He did not care to flaunt pretty things and he did not need to relieve himself with the help of others.
He was a good king; a strong and stable provider for his people. Whether he needed anything for himself was not an issue he had the time to address and if he had, he did not want a thing that would fade with time.
The next time that Kurogane saw the fair-skinned and fair-haired slave was a little over a year later. He had been put to work in the kitchens and had served as his waiter when his usual waiter was sick.
Kurogane had been astounded. The blonde's smile was just as brilliant, his skin just as fair as the day he had first seen him. Perhaps he had been pampered for his good looks, his work load made light. Kurogane felt a streak of vengeance rise in him. He ordered that the slave work with the dancers and entertainers that he retained for festivals and whenever he was forced to entertain guests in addition to his kitchen duties.
On the first night that Kurogane was able to see the blonde again, to watch as he performed for his guests late one evening, he was again entranced. The blonde had not grown weary and nor did he seem put-out by the extra work he'd been given. Instead, he seemed to shine on the dance floor with the light of a thousand stars. His hips swayed with perfect grace, his smile inviting and warm, his eyes captured Kurogane in their spell and then captured his guests as well.
Kurogane was not satisfied. He ordered the dancers to dance for him after every evening meal and not only on special occasions. Soon the regular dancers began to complain and he let them go, one by one, until only the blonde was left. And the blonde danced for him tirelessly. Every night, the blonde danced only for him and Kurogane watched every calculated, flowing move with an intensity that seemed to frighten all but the blonde slave, whose smile, he noticed, changed when it was directed at him.
One night, after the fair-haired slave had finished dancing and they were alone in the room together, Kurogane asked "Why do you smile every time I see you? Don't you have other emotions?"
The grin slid ever further on the blonde's lips. "Forgive my candor, my lord," he said, and Kurogane could tell he was amused to be saying it "but I do not smile only when you see me. I smile when I see you."
Kurogane felt as though he'd been chastised and he had not been chastised since his parents had done it and he did not like it.
In retaliation, he made the slave his own personal scripter, whose job it was to be at his side always and write down any important things which he might think of to say.
Kurogane did not often think of important things to say, as he was a man of action and few words, so most often, the fair-skinned, fair-haired slave was merely an ever-present presence at his side. Whenever Kurogane would be forced to listen to some diplomat or dignitary, he would tune that out and instead turn his attention to the complacent blonde nearby. His smile was distant at times like these and Kurogane was able to observe how his eyelids fell to half-mast over his clear blue eyes, how his body shifted minutely after a time to prevent stiffness, how the strands of his hair rustled and wrapped around his slender neck when stirred by a gentle breeze from an open window.
Dignitaries sometimes spoke to the slave directly, because a scripter held more status than a dancer or a cook and Kurogane would always miss the questions but he would catch every word and gesture of the answer and then, when the aged noble would smile and lean forward to pat the slave's hand after the pleasant conversation as they rose to leave, Kurogane would bristle.
It happened one day, that Kurogane came upon one of his advisors speaking with the slave. He watched as the advisor took his leave, not having seen him, and then witnessed a thing he had not seen before. The blonde dropped his head down, his shoulders shook, and Kurogane knew he was crying. He had never seen sadness in this man before and seeing it now angered him greatly.
When the blonde looked up at the sound of his swift approach, he was clearly shocked to see him and scrubbed at his eyes hastily in an effort to hide the wetness on his cheeks.
"What did he say to you?!" Kurogane demanded.
What he received however, was not an answer, but a different kind of smile, one meant to quell his fury and placate him. "Only private business, my lord." the slave answered. "Only words of truth. Nothing to draw my lord's attention."
Kurogane did not like being told that something was none of his business. Nothing was private business that he did not allow to be private. He wasn't about to allow such a thing.
So he went to tell this to his advisor.
"I'm not sure I understand the problem, your lordship." the advisor said to him, cringing from Kurogane's initial shouted query of "What the hell did you say to my scripter?"
"You need not be inconvenienced by such things. You do not even know his name. He merely needed to be reminded of this."
There was nothing like being told you were an idiot to make you realize you'd missed the obvious - even if Kurogane had not been told such directly.
"Wait…what do you mean, he needed to be reminded?" Kurogane asked, finally catching the end of his advisor's statement.
"That you don't care for him in the way he may care for you, my lord." the advisor elaborated carefully.
And for some reason, Kurogane did not like to hear that title from him, or anything from him. He was frustrated and without any further comment, left the advisor and went in search of the blonde once more.
He found the slave, after a lengthy search, in his throne room, where he was meant to be for an advisor's meeting in an hour.
"You come early for the meeting, my lord." the blonde said, a light grin sweeping away their previous encounter neatly.
"My name is Kurogane." he said in return. "As king of this land, I grant you your freedom. You may do as you like now and go where you wish."
The blonde's face fell. "I see. Thank you." But he did not sound thankful and Kurogane only became more frustrated.
"I grant you your freedom!" he clarified, as if that could be any clearer. "This is the thing that all slaves desire most. I am doing something kind for you. Why are you not happy?"
And the fair-skinned, fair-haired man smiled a very small, sad smile that made Kurogane's chest ache and said "You've forgotten the reason that I smile."
Kurogane had never felt such pain before but now he was beginning to understand - that the blonde was feeling the same pain, because of him.
"Tell me your name." he demanded. He should have asked the blonde his name on the very first day he had served his dinner.
"I'm no longer obligated to do that." the blonde reminded him calmly.
Kurogane was shocked.
"Then I enslave you again!" he shouted. "Tell me your name!"
"Is it so important?" the blonde asked, coyly. Now, after over two years?" He paused, seeming to like whatever it was he was seeing in Kurogane. "It's Fai. My name is Fai."
"Fai…" Kurogane repeated, and saying it, he found that in doing so he felt a need to be in contact with the other. He reached out, stroking the tender, soft skin of the blonde's cheek, the back of his hand brushing against wisps of hair. Kurogane leaned forward, eyes sliding shut as he neared the lips he only now realized that he had longed to kiss but was forced to stop when he felt a hand pressing firmly against his chest, keeping him back. Kurogane opened his eyes and glared at the hand.
"I'm afraid I must chose death over this option, my lord." Fai said and Kurogane saw red.
"WHAT!?"
"Because I love you." Fai explained. "And it isn't appropriate for a slave to love his king this way."
"Then I free you." Kurogane answered, placated, and moved forward toward the blonde again.
Fai grinned. "Make up your mind, Kuro-pu."
Kurogane stopped short again, this time of his own will. "What did you just call me?!"
"Kuro-rin made me wait a long time so I'll call him as I wish." he said, his voice slipping across Kurogane like sultry satin as the blonde leaned forward, wrapping his arms around his king's neck and initiating the kiss that Kurogane had been trying to start.
It had taken Kurogane two years to harden to the ways of the world, and blind himself to the things he wanted and needed. It took another two for a fair-skinned, fair-haired slave to show him the truth. It was all time wasted and half of it was time wasted that he had been loved, and never known.
Another year passed before the king announced his intention to grant his accompanying throne to his head royal advisor, a beautifully exotic man named Fai, who addressed him as no other would ever dare, and with whom his life would never be dull again.
Post whatevers: As always, if you liked, please review. Ja!
