III: Disintegration
As seen through the eyes of Mathias


The first thing Mathias noticed about the girl he was to be betrothed to was her hair.

It was short, curling at her shoulders, and very thick. Blonde was the broadest term for it, but there was more to it than that; 'blond' could refer to his own corn-coloured locks, or Lukas' smooth, rather ashy hair. Belle - that was her name, Belle - had hair that was golden, like liquid sunshine, curling in soft waves and cupping a rounded, smiling face. She had dimples, just like Mathias.

She was lovely.


"So what you're saying is," Lukas asked, one eyebrow arching, "that she was friendly?"

Mathias nodded eagerly, nabbing one of Lukas' pawns. They were playing chess in his drawing room, and so far, nobody had the advantage. Lukas played black, Mathias played white, and the board was still at the irritatingly cluttered stage, with too many useless pieces blocking the powerful ones from playing. Lukas didn't seem to notice the loss, as he took one of Mathias' pawns in return.
"She was very sweet! She reminds me of one of my cousins. I think you would like her!"

"I have no desire to meet her," Lukas stated, and before Mathias could protest, Lukas took one of his knights. He set it with the rest of the defeated white pawns, running his thumb over the top of the ebony piece victoriously. The Dane sighed, and had to think of a new strategy, both on the board and in the conversation.

"Wouldn't it be better if we could all be friends?" Lukas never enjoyed discussing such topics, but Mathias knew that shoving them out of sight wouldn't solve them any more than accepting them would. It hurt to keep things from Lukas, as well. He would only sleep well that night knowing that he had told the one he loved most the truth.

"Not particularly." Lukas' tone was still short, seemingly unperturbed, but by now he was purposely avoiding Mathias' eyes as he made his move. It was something as simple as moving a rook, but suddenly the board looked empty. Mathias closed his mouth, not knowing what to say. They played in silence now.


"In the end I managed to convince him that I would be able to bear it," Belle was saying, leaning back in her lawn chair, letting the sun warm her face, "but it wasn't without a lot of argument, let me tell you that."

"You don't find the racing brutal?" Mathias had to ask, leaning forward, head cocked. "What about when the horses fall, and they have to shoot them?" Surely a girl such as her would find it too bloody, to watch a horse tumble, splinter its legs and be killed, whinnying piercingly?

"That's what happens," she shrugged in response, closing her eyes briefly, long lashes tickling her cheeks before she opened one eye, peering at him with a small, catlike smile. "I'm sure I'll see many things in my life which require courage, so why should I be sheltered until then?"

"Your eyes," Mathias couldn't help but say, almost in awe, "are so bright."

"They tend to look better in the sun," she smiled. "It makes them look greener." But she didn't need the sun, Mathias thought vaguely, she was like the sun. The summer sun.


Lukas' touch was like icy fire - so hot it felt cold, or so cold it felt hot. When those hands were running over him, Mathias was engulfed in such pleasure that he didn't care whether they were hot or cold, but his fingers gripped for something to hold, one hand fisting in Lukas' hair, the nails of the other hand digging into Lukas' shoulder.

The room rocked, and Lukas' face swam into Mathias' field of vision, flushed, lips bruised from kisses, eyes hazy.
"Mathias -" He was cut off as their lips smashed together, and their bodies rolled like the waves of a stormy sea. Lukas was clinging to him, desperate, holding on for dear life, and Mathias didn't let him down. The waves that crashed over them were white-hot, and the words they shared stung Mathias, burning and freezing.

"I love you -"
"I want you -"
"I need you -!"

With Lukas, he had everything. It was all or nothing, and Mathias lived for the times when he could have it all.


"I should love to meet your friends," Belle told him, one late afternoon sun casting fiery shadows on the lawn they sat on. "Especially Lukas. You talk so much about him, I feel like I already know him!"

"I would love you to meet him as well," Mathias smiled a little ruefully, resting his chin on his hand, eyes drifting to where, in the distance, he could see the silhouette of Lukas' house. "We should arrange it, I suppose."

"And Berwald as well! He sounds like a sweetheart," his betrothed giggled, following his gaze. "We should all go to the races together, in August. Is two months long enough for me to get to know your friends well enough?"

Mathias doubted that any gathering could be as idyllic as the idea sounded, but he couldn't bring himself to say that it wouldn't happen.

"I'm sure it will." He offered her a slightly more hopeful smile, and received one in return. It warmed him from the inside.


"I want you to meet Belle." This time Mathias was significantly more firm, as he used a bishop to swipe Lukas' rook. The Norwegian looked a little shocked, both at the move and the words.

"Why?" He sounded utterly incredulous, and then his face hardened. "What good could that possibly do?" He glanced down at the board, then back up at Mathias without moving. His deep blue eyes were almost angry, demanding an explanation.

"Because I like her, and I want you to meet her." Mathias took a deep breath. "We're getting married."

Then he looked at the board. "Checkmate, Lukas." He wasn't gloating at all, and all of the anger seeped out of Lukas as he realised the full implications of what Mathias had just said. It was replaced by nothing but gentle, creeping despair.


A/N: Yes, it's been a hideously long time! I was only able to write this because I'm ill, and I can't promise that the next chapter will but up anytime soon, but if you liked this chapter, please tell me in a review! Thank you all for your patience, as well :)