Thank you to my reviewers, of course. And to those that followed and favorited or even just read it. I write this story for you guys :D. Okay, so, um...sorry this took so long. I was mainly just way too tired to write. My sleep has been utter crap DX
I kinda thought this chapter was going to be more light-hearted than it turned out to be, so don't be fooled by the beginning or the title. I'm not quite sure if it counts as 'violence', but there's definitely abuse toward the end. More of Ivan's POV. The writing may be sub-par because of my lack of sleep, so bear with me. I'll probably edit this later.
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Title: Built Upon the Snow
Author: La'Keera
Rating: M
Warnings: May contain violence, dark and/or suggestive themes and foul language
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, obviously
VIII: Daddy Issues
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When Alfred looked at Ivan helplessly he found the other leaning against the arm of the sofa, his head resting his in palm, covering his eyes. Natalia tugged desperately at his free arm, her words an incomprehensible string of panic and begging. Something about it not being true. When Ivan did finally peek out from between his fingers he looked at Alfred like that was the stupidest thing he could have possibly said.
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"You sick bastard! He's just a boy!" The corporal—Gil—appeared ready to jump out of his seat and kill Ivan right then and there.
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"Alfred, would you mind explaining to them what you meant? I doubt they'd believe me if I told them."
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He really was at a loss for words. "Is it wrong to sleep with an adult?"
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"Hell yes!"
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"He means just sleeping, for heaven's sake." Ivan glared at Gil, now openly angry. He shook off Natalia, but she returned almost immediately. "He doesn't even comprehend what you mean. Ask him bluntly and I'm sure the response would be different."
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"Sex, kid. I'm talking about sex."
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The room fell deathly silent. Alfred glanced from one expectant face to another, his own face growing redder when he realized what he had done. "No! Never! No way!" He waved his arms in emphasis, horrified that they would even jump to that conclusion. What the hell was wrong with people? How did sleeping together suddenly mean sex? He wasn't even really sure what all went into that particular activity, but he knew you had to be an adult. Obviously he wasn't one.
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Everyone seemed to calm at his outburst, though Ivan still looked irritated. He had just about decided to brush it off and try to change the subject when one last thought brought his plans to a screeching halt. Did that mean when he grew up Ivan was going to 'sleep' with him? Everybody spoke like it was inevitable. He turned to the silver-haired young man, panic beginning to rise in his chest.
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Ivan took one look at him and groaned. "Here comes trouble." He glared at Gil. "I blame you for this."
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"Hey, the kid needs to know what his situation is really like. I think you've been keeping too much shit from him." Gil patted Alfred's back, making the boy jump. "Hey, calm down. You have every right to refuse him at the moment."
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'At the moment'? He wouldn't later? Before he could ask any questions, Ivan stood up and offered his hand.
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"Alfred, we need to talk."
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Alfred hesitantly took the hand and followed Ivan out of the room, trying his best to ignore the corporal telling him to say no. They went down the hall at a brisk pace, Alfred barely able to keep up with Ivan's long strides. Finally, they slipped into a room, which happened to be the music room, and Ivan had him sit down on the piano bench before kneeling in front of him.
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"Sunflower, there is no need to be frightened." Ivan's voice was calm and gentle as his hand moved up to the side of Alfred's face and stroked his cheek with his thumb. "I may order you to do many things you do not wish to, but that is not one of them. If you do not wish for it to happen, it will not happen. Do you understand?"
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He slowly nodded, feeling a bit calmer. Ivan seemed to be earnest and genuinely concerned for him. After a kiss on the forehead and a promise from Ivan that he was sincere they returned to the parlor. When they entered everyone looked strangely relieved. Then he noticed Mattie sitting in Katyusha's lap, looking horribly confused. Alfred felt heat flare across his cheeks, knowing Mattie had heard their conversation. How had he not noticed his little brother sitting there?
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"Nice chat?" The corporal lounged back in the sofa, resting his arm over the back. "Be glad you missed little Matthew asking what sex was. That was fun."
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"I do believe you were the one who brought the whole thing up." Ivan sat back in his seat, immediately being grabbed by Natalia. Alfred sat back next to Gil, as there was no other available seat. "Use more discretion in the future, Corporal. Most adults do not consider it a proper subject of discussion. It is certainly not meant for children to speak about."
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The corporal shrugged, unconcerned. "They'll learn about it sooner or later."
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"I was surprised by that storm that blew through yesterday," Lady Elizabeta said in a valiant attempt at changing the subject. "I had a feeling when we received the invitation from your father it was a bit early…"
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The temperature in the room seemed to drop to minus sixty in a split second. Natalia glared at Lady Elizabeta while Katyusha glanced worriedly at Ivan. For good reason. He had gone stiff and his violet eyes glowed with unadulterated rage. He stood suddenly, dragging Natalia up with him as she clung to his arm. The corporal stood as well and moved in between Ivan and Lady Elizabeta, seemingly ready for an attack. Ivan glared at him and yanked his arm from the young mistress's grasp before turning and walking out of the room, slamming the door so hard a mirror fell from the wall and broke.
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"I…I didn't mean to upset him…" Lady Elizabeta watched in confusion before turning to Katyusha in bewilderment. "What did I say?"
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"You called the Emperor our father," Katyusha answered quietly, stroking Mattie's hair in a comforting manner. She released an unsteady breath, her blue eyes suddenly welling with tears. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for his behavior. They…he…It's not something we can talk about."
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Lady Elizabeta leaned forward, concern and suspicion mingling in her expression. "Is there something going on with your father? What is he doing to your three?"
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"I'm sorry, please excuse me." Katyusha moved Mattie off her lap before fleeing the room as well. Natalia calmly followed after.
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Everyone turned their attention to Alfred. He squirmed under their gazes. "Don't look at me. I don't know anything." He wasn't even sure what was going on. Toris and Arthur appeared, drawn by the commotion. While Toris cleaned up the broken mirror, the corporal and sergeant ganged up on Arthur, asking strange questions. Some involved Captain Bonnefoy, which Arthur refused to answer. Still, the guests couldn't be left without a host, so Arthur left to get the Emperor.
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Alfred didn't want to be in the room when he showed up. To avoid the jerk, he and Mattie returned to the kitchen to work, getting barraged with questions about what had happened in the parlor. All it took was a small explanation and everyone understood. Apparently, Ivan had made himself clear to all of them a long time ago.
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Alfred's evening was spent mostly in the kitchens, all the servants gathering there to eat their own suppers away from the masters and their guests. Arthur still scolded him about what utensil he used with what food. He didn't see why it really mattered, but he let it slide for the most part. There had to be a reason Arthur thought it was so important to know this stuff.
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"Why were Corporal Beilschmidt and Sergeant Carriedo questioning you about Captain Bonnefoy?" Toris asked Arthur during a lull in conversation. The other dropped his spoon and stuttered out a very weak 'I don't know…' Toris wasn't buying it. "You weren't rude to the captain the last time he was here, were you? I know how you two don't always get along."
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"I can assure you, I have nothing to do with his absence," Arthur stated coldly, grabbing his spoon again and continuing eating. "Apparently he has some lady friend he's infatuated with at the moment."
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Alfred thought the jealousy in Arthur's tone was painfully obvious, but everyone else seemed to think he was just being a prude about the captain's 'love affairs'. Apparently he had often objected to them in the past for moral reasons. Alfred doubted that had been his only motivation.
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The rest of dinner went fairly smooth with the conversation staying on light topics. Everyone had a good laugh when they heard about Alfred's mistake in the parlor, thanks to Mattie for sharing the story with Feliciano. Thankfully nobody revealed to his little brother just what it all meant. For some reason, most couldn't understand why he was still that naïve. What they didn't seem to realize was a life on the street didn't exactly educate you on that sort of thing.
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When the dining hall was cleared and the empty dishes and platters put away to be washed, Toris handed Alfred a thin tray with an untouched dish and a glass of water. "Apparently Master Ivan did not come down for dinner. Since you're going up there, give this to him."
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Alfred took the tray, moving carefully to avoid spilling the drink. He had to knock on the door with his foot and blew out a frustrated breath when all he got was a muffled 'come in'. "I can't open the door. My hands are full." He waited for what seemed like an eternity before the door was yanked open. He nearly flinched at the angry glare Ivan wore. His 'master' looked off, but he couldn't place it immediately. Maybe he was sick? Hmm…
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He looked like he had started to change his clothes but stopped in the middle of it. His light gray uniform jacket was open, revealing the snug white shirt underneath. His hat and gloves were missing, along with his boots and one sock. The other was still on his foot. Even his scarf was hanging open. After he let Alfred in he returned to the bed and flopped face-first on it.
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"Ivan?" He only got a groan in reply. He cautiously approached the bed, noticing a few bottles on the floor. They didn't look familiar. He set the tray down on the desk and picked up one, sniffing it. It didn't have much of a smell, but he could tell it was alcohol from the intensity of it. If that made any sense. "Have you been drinking?" If he was drunk, Alfred wasn't sure if he really wanted to be in the same room with him.
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Whatever Ivan said was muffled by the pillows his face was buried in. Alfred climbed up on the bed and shook him but he didn't seem willing to budge. After a while he gave up and got the plate of food before returning to the bed and lying back against the headboard. It smelled heavenly compared to his usual meal. "I have your dinner here."
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"Not hungry."
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"Can I eat it then?" He barely waited for permission before digging into the dinner. It was cold, but that hardly had any effect on his enjoyment of it. There were so many flavors and scents to it instead of just one. Once the plate was cleared he put it back on the tray and climbed back on the bed. He blew out the lamp and snuggled against Ivan's side.
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Just as he was starting to drift off, Ivan turned over to face him and propped himself up on his elbow. "Sunflower?"
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"Ivan…I want to sleep…" He snuggled into the bed and pulled the covers up to block out the chilly air. His pleas, however, went unheard.
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"I'm hungry."
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"You said you weren't."
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"I wasn't then. I am now. Come on, I want to get something to eat."
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"Go by yourself." He pulled the blankets up over his head but they were yanked off. The cold air hit his warm skin and sent chills through him. He was going to kill Ivan. "I want to sleep!" If Ivan got drunk again there was no way he would be spending the night in the same room. When he felt his tormentor move off the bed he tried to gather up the blankets again. Just as he had untangled them he saw the dark silhouette looming over the edge of the bed. All his hopes and dreams of a nice sleep were shattered. "Ivan! Let me slee—!" His cry ended with a yelp as he was lifted off the bed, his legs bent at the knees over one of Ivan's arms while his back rested against the other. Like a bride. Oh, he was going to kill Ivan…
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His assault on the young man's shoulders and chest had no effect. "Why do I have to go with you? What are you, a three-year-old?"
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"Shh, sunflower. You don't want to keep people from sleeping, do you?"
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"You're the only one who wants that." Alfred crossed his arms and glared at the floor. He quickly gripped on to Ivan's shoulders when the young man's steps weren't so steady. Honestly, he couldn't think of why he had to come along. Once they reached the kitchens he was set on his feet. He rubbed his eyes and yawned before searching for something already made for Ivan to eat, since he had no cooking skill at the moment. Arthur promised to teach him, but he had a feeling he wouldn't improve any. Arthur's food tasted terrible. "I don't know how to cook, so…If that's why you brought me, you wasted your time."
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"No." Ivan searched through cabinets at a leisurely pace. Apparently he wasn't too hungry. "Here we go." He pulled out a round, covered tray and set it on the counter. "I know this is a little late. I hope you don't mind."
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Alfred wasn't sure what the heck he was talking about but when the cover was removed to reveal a chocolate cake, he really didn't care anymore. He went to the edge of the counter and licked his lips, remembering the last time he had had it. Over a year ago now. "Can I have some?"
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Ivan chuckled quietly, going on a search for a knife to cut it. "Of course, sunflower. I had it made for your birthday."
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Oh…so that's what the late comment had been about. "Is that why you wanted me to come with you?" Ivan only hummed in reply, too distracted looking through the drawers. Alfred smiled, a pleasant sensation warming his chest. Okay, so maybe he'd take back wanting to kill Ivan. After all, he had a cake made for him. And not just any cake. A yummy chocolate cake. For his birthday, no less. Who cared if it was nearly two days late? "Thank you."
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Ivan didn't acknowledge him, too absorbed in his task. Finally he found the appropriate knife and cut the cake. Alfred could barely keep from laughing at how horribly uneven the slices were. Actually, with his level of intoxication, it was a miracle Ivan didn't cut his own finger off. That was one of the reasons Alfred couldn't understand the appeal of alcohol. It made even intelligent people look horribly stupid.
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They sat on the floor, leaning back against the counter as they ate their pieces of cake. It was quiet between them, but not awkward. Ivan was one of the few people he could spend time with without feeling he had to talk to fill the silence. They finished eating and put the dishes on the counter to be washed later then left the kitchen. They didn't go straight to bed though. Ivan seemed content to wander down the many hallways, making random comments and even telling a few stories as they went. Like the time he and Natalia knocked over a priceless vase and they had tried gluing it back together so nobody would notice. "It was very poorly done. The patterns didn't match up at all. It's no wonder we were caught so quickly. But unlike the Emperor, our mother wasn't too upset. In fact, we knew we were in trouble when she started laughing at it."
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"Do you still have the vase?"
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"Somewhere. It was probably moved into one of the storage rooms." Ivan stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets and looked down the hallway. Actually, he wasn't too bad drunk. He seemed to be in a much better mood and was certainly more talkative. Even if Alfred had to constantly remind him which direction they had come from so as not to back-track. It was usually when they came out of the room they had just been in, but not always. He still wasn't sure how Ivan could get lost walking down a straight hallway.
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Finally they found a library and Ivan made himself comfortable on the sofa, leaving no room for Alfred. So he climbed on the young man and used him for a sofa. For a time all he could hear was the beating of Ivan's heart under his head. "Goodnight, Ivan."
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"Goodnight, sunflower."
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He sighed and rolled his eyes at the stupid nickname, but let it slide. Once he got old enough he would kick Ivan's butt for calling him that. But at the moment he needed to go to sleep. It didn't take long before his exhaustion caught up with him.
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Ivan woke to a throbbing headache and a weight on his chest. His neck and back ached from sleeping on something other than his bed and the pale midday sunlight shined in his eyes, not only hurting them but aggravating his hangover. He wanted to roll over, but he knew the weight on his chest was Alfred and he would likely crush him. Summoning all his courage, he dared to open his eyes even just a squint. Sure enough, it was Alfred. Or at least a boy of about the same size with the same golden hair. The boy's face was snuggled up against his neck while Ivan's jacket was buttoned up with him inside, possibly to keep him warm.
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As he grew more conscious, he realized Alfred's face was snuggled up against not just his neck, but his bare neck. He could feel the warm breath against his skin and the light brush of Alfred's nose when he moved his head. He also noticed, less importantly, that they were on the sofa in the library of all places. The uniform he still wore was uncomfortable and restricted his movements somewhat, especially that of his arms. While in his current position, moving Alfred without waking him was out of the question.
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His brain wasn't exactly in the shape to be thinking up complicated plans of escape. Instead it seemed happy to focus on how much he didn't want Alfred to be where he was. He hated it when the boy saw his neck because he always asked questions. Questions Ivan didn't want to answer. He didn't want to remember the cause of them. He didn't want to remember who or what had torn into his sensitive flesh. He could hear the laughter in his head and it made him nauseous. It could have been the hangover, but he doubted it. He fought against the tight feeling in his throat and watering of his mouth until, finally, it slowly went away.
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"Ivan?" Alfred stuck his boney elbows into Ivan's shoulders and propped himself up, looking sleepy. His golden hair stuck up in odd directions and his eyes didn't open all the way, just barely peeking out from under his lashes. "Good. You're awake. Can you unbutton the jacket so I can get up?"
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He did as requested, all too happy to put some distance between them. Once Alfred was up he wrapped his scarf back around his neck, feeling instantly safer. He could see the curiosity in his companion's blue eyes, but he didn't ask for once. When he got up himself every footstep was jarring, sending jolts of pain into his head. One of these days he would stick to his word and not do this again. But even as he swore to himself this would be the last hangover, he knew deep down it wouldn't be.
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"You look terrible." Alfred grabbed his wrist and led him out. It took far too long to reach the bedroom. He could tell by how bright his room was lit that he had missed his political strategy lesson and possibly his language lesson. Not that he would have picked any of it up with the murderous headache he had.
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The knock at his door sent a burst of panic through him but he quickly crushed it. Whatever his fate would be, he would face it without fear. When he opened the door, one of the Emperor's guards stood stiffly in front of him. So his skipping dinner hadn't gone unnoticed. "He wants me in his quarters then?"
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"Yes."
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"Alfred," he said without looking away from the guard, "get a change of clothes and take a bath. Go ahead and heat the water if you can." He didn't wait for a reply, following the burly guard to the Emperor's door. Once inside the room, he was forced on his knees in front of the waiting man. He didn't want to bow, but the guards, now three present, forced his head down.
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It seemed as if they picked up their argument from where they had left off last time. "Ivan, son, you know how I feel about rebellion. Do you want me to put a leash on you again and walk you around in front of the slaves like the dog you are? You certainly had a ball beating the shit out of them afterward. Did that make you feel human?" The Emperor's foot came down on his head, shoving his face into the floor. The cold marble was unyielding against his flesh. "If you would just behave, I wouldn't have to hurt you so much. But then you are like your whorish mother."
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He struggled against the guards at the insult, breaking free enough to yank the foot off his head and glare up at the bastard. "You didn't deserve her or the loyalty she showed you! The only sin she ever committed was letting you touch her with your vile hands!"
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The Emperor chuckled, though he looked far from amused, and grabbed a handful of Ivan's hair, yanking so hard he nearly pulled the young man off his knees. "If you want to be so defiant, then I suppose a little humbling is in order." He patted Ivan's reddened cheek with his free hand, a sickeningly sweet smile on his face. "I got you a new collar. I think you're going to love it."
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He struggled desperately against the guards as the Emperor stood and went into another room. The one he kept his torture devices in. The panic from before was building as his fight was met with powerful resistance. His body couldn't handle the physical and emotional strain, suddenly throwing up on the floor. That was only going to get him in more trouble.
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"Get him away from there. I don't want to be kneeling in vomit when I put this on him."
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He was dragged back despite his return to struggling. He saw the wire strung with sharp barbs in the Emperor's hands and he almost screamed. Not again. Not again. It just kept repeating in his head as the older man approached. He didn't want to do this again. Every instinct told him to scream but he wouldn't allow it. He wouldn't allow the Emperor that pleasure. Besides, he didn't want Katyusha and Natalia to see him like this and screaming would definitely bring them here.
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He was held down and his scarf was yanked away before the wire was wrapped carefully around his neck, so the barbs constantly poked, but didn't puncture, his skin. The make-shift collar was carefully tied off and a thick leather leash was attached.
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"There we go. Oh, and the barbs are a bit long, so if they get you just right you could bleed to death." The Emperor stood, tugging on the leash.
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Ivan could feel the barbs tearing into the back of his neck and he quickly stood as well. Blood was already beginning to trickle down his back as he was led out of the room. He wanted to grab the leash and yank it away and flee, but the guards made escape impossible. He would only be tortured further for disobedience. As he was paraded through the palace for all the servants to see he was glad he had told Alfred to take a bath. At least one person would miss his humiliation.
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Alfred was pretty proud of himself. He could heat the water for a bath and get it all ready without the help of an adult. It meant he was growing up. He had soaked in his achievement for a little longer than necessary, but victory was victory and you had to enjoy it when you earned it. Once the water got too cold for comfort he reluctantly got out and got ready for his chores. When he reached the kitchen everyone was eerily silent. Nobody even smiled for him. Then he realized someone was missing. "Where is Toris?"
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"Don't go up to Master Ivan's room for a while, lad." Arthur continued the dishes though his hands shook slightly.
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Fearing for Toris, since his question had been met with a warning, he rushed out of the room and hurried up to the second story. He didn't hesitate to open Ivan's door though the sight he stumbled on wasn't what he had expected. If he had even expected anything.
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Ivan sat shirtless on the edge of the bed with his neck stained red with blood, his eyes dull and full of hatred. Toris had the beginnings of a bruise on his cheekbone and his trembling hands, also stained from blood, cleaned the wounds with a bloody cloth. They both looked at him when he entered. Toris looked terrified at finding who had burst in, but Ivan's expression didn't change.
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"What happened?"
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"Nothing!" Toris motioned desperately for him to leave but he was ignored. The young brunette seemed to grow more panicked as he approached. "Alfred, go back to the kitchen!"
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Alfred climbed up on the bed on the opposite side of Ivan. "I want to help."
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Toris glanced worriedly at Ivan, but when the silver-haired master made no move or objection, he slowly relaxed a margin. "A-alright. Get the bandages then. I'm done cleaning the wound."
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Alfred did as he was told and helped bandage the wounds. They looked a lot like the scars that already covered Ivan's neck. Once Toris had gone with the bloody cloth and water Ivan carefully lay back on the bed and closed his eyes. Alfred watched him for a moment before cautiously sliding closer and lying against Ivan's side. Ivan growled but when Alfred started to pull away he was yanked back and held tightly.
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"Don't go, sunflower," Ivan whispered, burrowing his face against Alfred's neck and hissing at the pain it caused.
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"I won't." He wrapped his arms around Ivan's neck, being very careful not to hurt him. He closed his eyes and ignored the discomfort from the tight squeeze, wondering what had happened. But thinking about it, there was only one person he could imagine doing something like this. The Emperor. But how could he do that to his own child? Weren't parents supposed to protect their children? "Ivan?"
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"Don't ask," Ivan growled warningly.
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So much for that.
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Well, that was a little depressing...
Hope this wasn't too terrible. See you next chapter. :3
