Author's Note: For Lauren. Totally.
A point of explanation: A few of you may have noticed, between this chapter and the last, that Axel doesn't seem at all surprised that Roxas inexplicably knows his name. He doesn't ask or anything. To anticipate your questions, I'll just explain here – in my thinking, Axel was a King. All his life, everyone always knew his name, so it just wouldn't shock him automatically like it might you or me. On the other hand, I also think that he's rational enough that he would wonder, given a minute to think about it, how Roxas happened to learn it. However, at this point he's got a lot on his half-starved-to-death mind. So, in short: no, he's not asking at this point how Roxas knows his name, and yes, that's intentional. Don't worry loves, I didn't forget. XD
And now, your attention please, oh beloved readers of mine! I have an announcement.
This fandom, which has been my constant source of enjoyment and inspiration this past year and some months, which has not only given me a chance to improve as a writer, but has allowed me to meet many wonderful, talented people, has now also given me my future roommate. Yes, come the end of this summer sometime, I shall be moving in with one of my favorite authors: A Spot of Bother, whom you all know and love. ^.^ We are going to have the most epic fanficcing time of our lives, and you are all welcome to envy my good fortune. XD And, if I ever get enough cash for a set of china, maybe I'll have you over for tea. XD
That is all. That you for your support, my dears! :D (Ugh, long AN, much?) XP
Chapter 7 ~ Hunger
There was another presence in the moonlit nursery…someone moved softly behind Roxas as he watched the little boy sniffle at the window. He tried to turn, and felt a spike of fear when he found he couldn't.
Soft steps shuffled closer; when Roxas was sure whomever it was must be right behind him, the sound of a deep, aged voice confirmed it.
"Do you want to save him?"
Roxas glanced with surprise back to the little boy, who heard nothing. The person behind him moved again, gliding up beside him until he could see a dress in his peripheral vision. It was a slightly familiar dress…although the form wearing it was much thinner than he remembered.
"Nana?"
The old voice replied, "No. Nana watched over the little Prince. I only have business with the King."
"Axel is the King…" Roxas whispered. It wasn't really a question.
His answer was a long pause, during which he heard the person move to sit down. He could just catch a glimpse of the woman's face as she did so…but her features blurred away from Roxas' vision. All he could see were the wrinkles of extreme age.
At last, the voice sighed, and quietly asked again: "Do you want to save him?"
Roxas drew breath to reply, but a nagging doubt held him silent for a moment. Uncertainty…some vague feeling that whispered against such an answer…
In the intervening moment, the nursery suddenly grew darker, dimmer…it began to fade away. Soon, nothing was left but the darkness, and an aged voice whispering, "Do you want to save him?"
~o~
As Roxas regained consciousness, the first thing that slipped into his awareness was a sound – not the familiar rise and fall of the moaning wind, but…rain? Yes…it was rain. The heavy, steady fall of an almost-pouring rain.
Slowly, Roxas began to sense other things – warm fabric around him, something soft that he was lying upon; then, as he slowly began to crack his eyes open, two more overwhelming things hit him almost at once. The first was the splitting agony in his head, and the second was a sudden rush of motion and an unfocused face hovering close over his own.
He groaned and reached for his head in misery, but his hand was arrested.
"Roxas? Roxas are you awake? Don't touch…" The blurry face was resolving itself into the familiar features of the King, though they were almost unfamiliar now, so strangely contorted with worry was his expression.
"Oww…" Roxas moaned weakly, his hand falling limp again. He felt the King's touch on his wrist remain, however. Trying to focus, Roxas looked to the man beside him. "Your Highness? What…what happened? Why are you here?"
The King went still, then withdrew a short distance. His voice, when he answered, was fumbling, almost frightened…almost childlike.
"I…struck you. Your head was bleeding; I tried to fix it but…but I don't know how. I have other things here, the Heartless brought them, but I don't know what to do…so I was just…watching." The King's voice dropped to only a whisper. "I…I'm sorry…"
Through the haze of pain, Roxas blinked and turned a surprised but pained smile to the King. Softly, he answered, "I didn't think you would know how to say that."
Doubtfully, the King edged forward a bit. "Because I hurt you…because I struck you without warning and I didn't mean to…it's just you surprised me. You touched me and said my name…I hadn't heard it in so long, I-I wasn't even sure I had a name anymore…and I did something terrible…"
A vague, listless wave of Roxas' hand silenced the King. "I understand. It's all right, Your Highness. I forgive you." And Roxas meant it.
The King continued to hover, not knowing what else to say, still trying to think of what he could do. Roxas had closed his eyes again, waiting out fresh waves of pain. When they subsided slightly, he opened his eyes again and caught sight of the still-nervous King.
"Your Highness, if I could ask you for something…"
"Yes, yes!" Axel eagerly answered.
Roxas smiled weakly again. "I am thirsty. For water, I have been filling the vase by the fire with snow and melting it…"
"I will get water for you!" The King was already in motion, grabbing up the vase and hurrying out of the room. Roxas sighed. He hadn't even told the King about the broken window to exit through…although, come to think of it, if it was raining the snow might not be so plentiful now. Roxas wanted to tell the King to set out some containers to collect the rain water, but he supposed he could wait until the man came back.
By the time Axel did return, Roxas was almost dozing again – consciousness was a bit hard to cling to in the face of the pain in his head. He woke again, however, when the King reentered the room, dripping wet and carrying the vase. He also carried a jeweled goblet, which he poured some of the water into for Roxas.
"Can you help me sit?" Roxas asked uncertainly. The King seemed alarmed at the suggestion at first, but then nodded and moved forward, setting the vase and goblet aside and reaching for Roxas. The invalid felt himself lifted with extreme gentleness, the King pulling pillows forward to prop him up. Even so, the motion caused his head to throb badly, and Roxas could do little more than clutch the solid arms that held him and wait for the motion to cease.
When it did and he was able to think again, the King was offering him the goblet. "I had the Heartless find something easier to drink from…and they are collecting more water now."
Roxas sipped tentatively at the water, which tasted of open air and was bitterly cold. To his thirst, it was wonderful. After carefully drinking a little at a time, Roxas felt some of the pain alleviating, and his voice felt stronger. When he spoke – still softly, for fear of aggravating the pain in his head – he was able to form his words more steadily.
"Thank you. I will need to do something about this bandage, I think." Having had many wounds bandaged pristinely by his mother, Roxas could vaguely tell that his head had been most awkwardly wrapped. "It would be better to have hot water. If there is a cauldron somewhere, you could boil some of the water to purify it."
The King had already left the bedside, rushing away with a promise of, "I'll find something." Roxas chuckled softly. It's not that severe…he's acting like a man whose wife is in labor with their first child. The observation struck the injured Roxas as even funnier, largely due to how comically apt it was, and his smile broadened so far that his head began to ache again, bringing tears to his eyes. Roxas quickly calmed his amusement, assisted by the pain.
Still I wonder…why is he caring for me thus? Why did he even bother? And why does he seem so troubled now? He was drifting off again, the dull throbbing in his head making him too exhausted to keep his eyes open. He's so different…from the way he first seemed…
~o~
The rest of that day, Roxas remained in bed, listening to the constant drumming of the cold, heavy rain. He drifted off a few times, but on the whole he was not quite tired enough to escape the pain of his injury by sleeping through the day. In addition, he also soon became aware of numerous other injuries all over his body – burns. They were not as severe as the gash in his head, yet they made up for this by making it nearly impossible to lie comfortably.
The King made every effort to provide Roxas with whatever he asked for. He was a helpless nurse, but a tender and attentive one, if a little jumpy – truly, Roxas was dumbfounded by the sudden gentleness. It was nothing like the terrifying monster who had greeted him or the indifferent King who had followed him around on his first day in the castle. Roxas seemed to see a far more human side to the King emerging, and it reminded him again and again of the little boy in his dreams.
At the same time, however, Roxas couldn't relax. There were moments – not many, but a few – when the King was merely sitting by and watching him, when Roxas would look up unexpectedly and catch a glimmer of an expression in that lean face that made his blood run cold with fear. Sharp features were still exaggerated by wasting hunger, flickers of ferocity still inhabited those green eyes…and sometimes Roxas was sure that the black pupils looked distinctly oval. And, though brief and quickly concealed, Roxas felt certain that these dangerous flashes were worse than the open display of cruelty he had seen when he first met the King.
The rain hammered against his windowpanes, occasionally sudden flashes of lightning broke the incessant gloom, and Roxas knew, deep down, that something was approaching. Something threatening.
In the meantime, however, he did what needed to be done – he was a farmer by upbringing, and his approach was practical in spite of his fears. He tended to his own wounds, the King desperately trying to provide everything Roxas asked for. He replaced the bloody bandage at his head with proper strips of linen…though not without noticing that the fabric was very like what the King wore, and there were some new, rather serious tears in the King's clothing.
Roxas looked up from the black bandage to the King's worried face, watching him tend the bloody injury. Smiling reassuringly, he said softly, "Thank you for your care." The King, as before, just looked confused and uncertain. Roxas only returned to his injury, still smiling slightly.
He can be so strange.
With the King's help as well, Roxas managed to examine the pile of items that the Heartless had brought from the villages. There were enough household items for Roxas to set up a fair attempt at housekeeping in his room in the castle, if he wanted, which made the blond smile again at the awkward effort. There was one bed sheet, far too small for the grandiose bed he lay upon, but Roxas wanted to make the King feel better – he seemed rather distraught by the uselessness of the collection his minions had gathered – so Roxas decided aloud that he would have the sheet on his bed as soon as he could get up and about. They even found a loaf of bread, apparently snatched while cooling on a windowsill. Roxas was pleased with the addition to his diet, and made sure that the King saw his happiness.
The pile also contained many items of a medical nature, but few of them were useful to Roxas. Surgical tools were not needed, and it would have been foolish to ingest any of the mysterious, unidentifiable herbs or the contents of any of the little medicine bottles. Roxas found nothing that was clearly labeled as a pain remedy. There were a few small rolls of bandaging, which Roxas used sparingly so as to have more when he needed to change the bandage at his head. He also found a container of green salve. He tried applying a tiny amount to one of his burns to test its properties, and found that it lessened the sting a bit. Making use of the salve, Roxas began to locate and tend the worst of his burns.
Calmly attempting conversation with his newly-returned shadow, Roxas addressed the King while dabbing salve on his arms. "I had meant to keep our dueling appointment this morning, but I suppose I am to be the cause of another delay… If, that is, you are still adamant that I be at my full strength to fight you."
The King, looking crestfallen, quickly nodded, then shook his head the next moment. "You must recover of course, but it is I who is to blame for the delay now. I…injured you."
Roxas could not disagree without being dishonest, yet he did not like to see the King continuing to blame himself – it was so pitiable to see, when the grown man would suddenly look so childlike. Instead of answering, then, he ignored the comment. "Will you be staying here constantly until then, or will you be disappearing for several days in a row again?"
The confusion and uncertainty flashed over the King's face again as bright green eyes slanted away, avoiding Roxas and examining the room and the floor instead. "I will stay until you can care for yourself…but after that I should go. And…you need not come and find me. I will return in time."
Roxas frowned, displeased. He told himself he was unhappy because of the prospect of more dull days ahead, and because he did not like to trust the King that far. He told himself it was not that he wished for company, nor that he would have enjoyed the King's presence more than his absence, and certainly it was not loneliness.
"I do not like to be left here to merely wait your pleasure to decide when I shall fight for my life, Your Highness," Roxas replied, with an edge.
"Well," the King returned, bitingly, "I am the King, so my decision stands."
"You are not my King…"
"Am I not?" The green eyes abruptly flashed at him in anger, a swift, boney finger coming up to point at his own face. "This is the mark of royalty throughout this land, and, if I'm not mistaken, you are a peasant from one of the villages in the valley. You may not live under my daily command anymore, but this is still my kingdom, and I am still King, the last reigning heir of my family's crown, and you are my subject by birth. My decision stands."
As the King declared the meaning behind the marks on his face, Roxas was reminded of his dream. A voice gently speaking to a little Prince…
"You bear the mark of the royal family – none other has blood as noble and precious as yours."
And he could not argue with the King…with King Axel. Though he dared not attempt to use that name again. Nodding his unwilling concession, still not quite resigned, he replied, "Very well. I cannot dispute that. Yet I still must wish to know why…"
"So that I do not attack you!" The King leapt to his feet, pacing agitatedly across the room.
Frustrated, Roxas almost laughed scornfully at the statement. "Yet you mean to do so anyway, eventually! You must eat my heart, after all!"
Spinning around to face Roxas and casting his arms out in a furious gesture, the King bellowed, "I do not want to eat your heart!" The next moment he withdrew, a shaking left hand clutching his right arm close. The trembling remnants of that angry voice finished, "I do not want to."
Staring at the miserable King in surprise, Roxas heard himself ask, simply, "Why?" Foolish question, he thought a moment later. When a monster says he's changed his mind about eating you, you agree, Roxas. You do not question his judgment.
The anger and confusion had drained from the King – his voice and expression now held only sorrow. "I…do not know. But I feel…that it would be better to put an end to this cursed existence, with no hope of being free."
Squeezing his eyes shut as if in pain – and indeed his head throbbed unbearably – Roxas spread his hands over his face for a moment, forcing his breathing to remain even and measured, and swallowing hard to prevent his voice from shaking.
"Then…let me go." His hands fell from his face again, and Roxas looked up to the King, eyes tired yet pleading. "You would not have to fear losing control. We could both…be free. Just let me go…release me from this," He touched the red metal circlet at his neck, the mark of death, "and I promise to go quietly and trouble you no more." His other hand clenching in the bedclothes, Roxas bent his head, his voice only a whisper. "Please."
Please…my family…
"I cannot." The low-spoken words drove despair into Roxas' heart. A moment later, he dared to look up at the King again, for he heard in that deep, quiet voice the same hopelessness that filled his heart.
"I…do not have power over the circlet. I do not send it or direct its choice. I think it is under the command of the Witch," His voice briefly grew stronger, growling the word, "I cannot remove it. It always vanishes when…when its purpose is fulfilled."
"When I am dead," Roxas stated flatly. Axel did not answer immediately, but paused before finishing the thought.
"Or…I suppose, if I die…if I am killed, or if I fade to nothing from starvation…I believe it would release you then." Neither could find the will to voice the black conclusion to their situation.
One of us must die.
After a long silence, Roxas spoke again, striving to bring his tone back to normal. "So…you will stay until I can care for myself, and then you will hide away in some corner of this castle, and we must both hope that I recover soon so that we may have our duel." To the death. "I suppose this is accurate?"
Axel nodded, daring at last to look at Roxas again. "It must be so. I have crippled your strength by my cowardly action; you cannot fight like this." No, I cannot win like this… A realization struck Roxas. He wants me to win…he wishes for me to kill him. The King continued to his conclusion, "So I must go, as soon as possible."
"You really think you are likely to attack me?" Roxas asked in doubt.
For response, intense green eyes flicked to his face again, locking on bewildered blue eyes gazing back. His entire bearing grew tense and restrained, guarded. "You do not know…how hungry I am. How long it has been…it is…driving me mad."
Roxas swallowed heavily, a renewed shudder of fear threatening his composure as he attempted to maintain eye contact with the increasingly animalistic man. "But you have eaten quite a few animals' hearts, as I have seen. Even if they will not keep you alive, surely they must help a little?"
The King shook his head scornfully. "You have forgotten. I told you, it is the spirit which I consume. If the animals have a spirit at all, it is weak beyond my ability to detect it. They have done nothing for the hunger which is killing me." He took a few slow steps forward, continuing to speak darkly on the subject that was slowly eating at his mind. "For fifty years – five decades in a row – that vile thing brought me little girls. They do have spirits, of course, but such weak, undeveloped spirits are…like eating sweetmeats." He looked to Roxas as he attempted to put the experience into an analogy for his understanding. "Good to the taste, yet not sustaining."
Roxas could not entirely suppress the shiver of dread he felt as the King spoke of eating innocent little girls' hearts. As the man moved closer to the bed again, he watched warily, yet at the same time, fascinated by…he hardly knew what. By…the King himself.
"On the day you arrived I was already famished for your heart, yet I thought I could wait. Days seem like nothing when you live for centuries. Yet it would seem that the hunger can overtake me more swiftly than I realized." He was beside the bed now, only a few paces from where Roxas sat, and the blond was alarmed to see an almost glowing green light in those eyes…the eyes with narrowed pupils.
The King continued closer, visibly shaking. "You do not know how powerful it is, nor the strength I must use to overcome it. You do not know how maddening it is to be near you…the scent of your heart is so strong…" A trembling, clawed hand stretched across the short distance toward Roxas, who was frozen in place, watching in dread and awe. "…I can smell it, even from afar…so delicious, so…so hard to resist."
Roxas felt a cold hand touch his chest, slipping easily under his awkwardly-mended, torn shirt until it came to rest over his heart, spreading across his warm skin. He shuddered, yet still could not move as the King pressed even closer, smoothly climbing…no, gliding onto the bed, his advance pushing Roxas back, until the blond was almost lying down again.
And the deep voice continued through heavy, panting breaths, low, murmuring…trembling on the edge of insanity. "The strong scent of your spirit deep inside…the sound of your heartbeat, like an incessant drum beating in my mind. The rhythm of your pulse, every throb of that heart pumping your blood throughout your body, all of it as sweet as honey, carrying little threads of your spirit from your heart to every other part of you…your arms, your legs…" He lifted one of Roxas' hands and held it, spread open, in his trembling grasp. "Even these fingertips…filled with the blood that is flavored with your spirit, all deliciously bound to this heart…" The hand on Roxas' chest shook, clutched briefly, claws tearing slight scratches into the skin.
The King's eyes grew impossibly green as they stared at the sight, pupils all but vanishing into slits. The words he had been speaking melted into a low, strangled growl as Roxas gasped in fear, realizing that the King was no longer in control of the monster. Desperately, Roxas raised his free hand between them, yet he had no strength against the solid chest above him. As the King closed in, he swiftly reached higher, closing his fingers hard around that thin neck, stopping the King's progress toward his chest.
For a moment, the animal seemed to take over even more powerfully, lips peeling back from elongated fangs and green cat eyes fixing on blue, fear-filled ones as the monster snarled and pushed forward and snapped at Roxas…and then the moment was gone, realization dawned in the inhuman face, the black pupils widened again, and, as if with great effort, the King slowly drew back.
Without a word, he removed himself from the bed, slinking away until he reached the door. There he stood for a long time, silent, both occupants of the room struggling to calm their fast-paced breathing. Slowly, Roxas became aware of the outer world again, the thunder and lightning and rain and a whipping wind dashing the water against the castle.
Finally, the King spoke in his human voice again, still facing the door. "Now do you understand?" He said no more.
Roxas struggled not to gasp as he spoke. "Yes."
Without another word, the King left, the door swinging heavily shut behind him, leaving Roxas alone.
~o~
