Viktor stretched as he awoke, yawning widely. He opened his eyes, and panic shot through his veins. Where was he? His environment was entirely unrecognizable. The ceiling had exquisite crown molding of flowers and ivy, embellished with gold. An ornate chandelier with sparkling crystals dangling from it and glass beads was hanging above his head. He looked up at it in awe, although fear was pulsing inside of him.
Was this Yuuri's house? If so, then why was he in such a luxurious room? Oh no. Would he be punished for falling asleep? He really hadn't meant to, he'd just been so weary… He sighed and smiled, resigned to his fate, then pushed himself up and turned to face the door. (Fairies had to sleep on their stomachs or sides to avoid hurting their wings.) Covering his legs were several layers of blankets. The one on top was masterfully crocheted, and the one underneath was quilted with great skill. Viktor was making the bed dirty with his unclean body, he was sure of it.
Swallowing delicately, he rested his hands on his lap and folded his wings. He caught a glimpse of the scabbed-over stump of his index finger, pus beginning to ooze out, and raised his gaze sharply. He kept feeling like it was still there, getting phantom pins-and-needles and stabbing pain. He blinked away tears to maintain his happy facade, then froze as the door opened a crack. Light spilled in from the hallway.
Yuuri peeked in, and his eyes widened when he saw that Viktor was awake. He slipped into the room, and they stared at each other without a word until Viktor coughed lightly. He bowed his head, eyes unfocused so that he didn't have to see his missing finger clearly. A practiced smile graced his lips.
"Thank you for having your servant carry me here." He dared to glance up, and glimpsed Yuuri's face. Why did he look confused? A feeling of dread settled in Viktor's stomach.
"Oh. I don't have any servants, I brought you up here." Self-reproach and terror flashed through Viktor.
"I am very sorry that I fell asleep and that you had to carry me, Master. Please give me whatever punishment you think is most suitable," he apologized with forced cheerfulness.
"Oh." Yuuri looked troubled and ill. What was wrong? "I-I really didn't mind. It was no trouble." Such a kind man, helping a lowly and disrespectful fairy. In that situation, most masters would have thrown their slave in the street to wake them up.
"If you are sure…" Viktor dipped his head in complacency. Yuuri slowly moved closer, as if he was afraid that he would run away.
"There's room that I think will fit you well," Yuuri told him with a half-smile. Sadness dripped from Viktor's heart as he melancholily stroked the soft blankets. Of course this was too good to be true. He was going to be escorted to the slave quarters. He could only hope that they had plumbing and running water. He sighed inwardly as he got off of the bed. The geta that he had been wearing earlier had been removed from his feet. Yuuri held the door open for him (although it should have been the other way around).
They padded down the garnet-colored carpeted hallways, barely making a sound. Viktor looked up in amazement at the ginormous old paintings on the walls. They all looked so refined, and had similar features to Yuuri. He wanted to run a hand along the faded ornate wallpaper, but he knew that that would be improper. Yuuri soon came to a stop in front of a room, directly to the left of the one Viktor had woken up in.
Yuuri turned the knob and pushed the door open. He beckoned to Viktor, smiling softly.
"This room is for you, if you would like it."
Looking at the ground and preparing for the worst, Viktor cautiously stepped forward. Lifting his eyes, he sharply took a breath. The room was beyond his wildest fantasies. The vaulted ceiling was incredibly high, and there were massive wooden beams holding it up. A skylight above filtered in rays from the sun. There was a bed with a petal-pink gossamer canopy, and the peony-embroidered covers looked so comfortable… A vanity with a mirror was off to one side, a thick shroud of dust covering the whole piece of furniture. A velvet couch with a gold leaf back and claw feet was against one wall.
His eyes were drawn to a huge, intricately carved cherrywood wardrobe. A piece of cobalt blue fabric was peeking out, and his heart leapt. But then… it rapidly sank again. He smiled ruefully, and his gaze dropped.
"That was an amusing jest," he chimed with as much brightness as he could muster. Yuuri took a moment to respond.
"What?" he asked, and Viktor turned his head to face him. Yuuri looked confused at first, but it quickly morphed into a heartbroken expression. Guilt pooled in Viktor's belly. What had he done to elicit such a response? "Viktor… What I said wasn't pretense." Yuuri seemed on the verge of tears. Oh no, what should he do?
"I'm sorry," Viktor told him, allowing himself to appear more serious. Yuuri offered a sad smile.
"Please don't apologize. This room and everything in it really does belong to you. You can do whatever you like with it." Still not daring to think that this room could actually be his, Viktor searched Yuuri's visage for a hint of malice in order to avoid humiliation. But… There wasn't any. His mouth opened slightly, his heart soared, and his eyes filled with tears. Touching his hand to his chest, he exclaimed,
"Thank you." This was the nicest thing that anyone had ever done for him in his entire life. Viktor beamed, and Yuuri smiled bashfully in return.
"You're welcome." They looked into each other's eyes, neither speaking a word. Yuuri flushed scarlet, and his eyes darted away. "I-I'll be in the kitchen if you need me. Feel free to make yourself at home." He turned and left, biting his lip, before Viktor could ask him where the kitchen was. He hoped that Yuuri wasn't cooking food for him, because that should be his job. (Although he was a bit glad, he was "unskilled" in the culinary arts to say the least.)
Viktor raised his head and did a full spin, ponytail swinging out behind him and settling against his thighs. He pinched himself to make sure that he wasn't dreaming, but he didn't wake up. With a breathless laugh, he laid down on his front on the fluffy white rug with his arms spread out on either side. He opened his wings so that they could warm in the sunlight streaming in overhead. It felt so nice, the heat radiating over the surface of his wings and into his core.
He nearly melted in contentment; he couldn't recall the last time that he had been allowed to bathe in the sun like fairies were supposed to do. It must have been… when he was a child. He could remember the feel of the plush moss of a tree branch under his belly, the sound of the birds chirping nearby… He quickly stood up to dispel the flood of memories threatening to burst. His boyhood wasn't something that he wanted to think about right now.
Fluttering his wings to move forward, his toes brushed the floor lightly. He came to a halt in front of the armoire, and sunk his feet into the thick carpet. Heart beating quickly, he placed a hand on the rose-shaped knob and then pulled the door open. When he saw the contents of the wardrobe, he gasped and his eyes widened. It was stuffed full with beautiful clothing in a rainbow of hues.
Almost afraid touching it would make it disappear, he reached out and gingerly grazed his fingertips over the sheer sleeve of the blue dress. It was cool and silky, not at all like the clothes that he was used to wearing. This was so finely sewn, and he could tell that the person who made it put a lot of time and care into its creation. He carefully took it off of its twisted wire hanger and held it up. Oh, it was lovely.
The dress was in an Edwardian style, sleek and elegant. Periwinkle-colored lace trimmed the sleeves and the upper layer of the skirt. The bodice had navy blue embroidered roses and vines on it, gracefully arching. The lower part of the skirt was royal blue taffeta, lengthy and flowing. Holding the gown up to his body, he pictured wearing it and smiled blissfully. It smelled musty, as if it had been closeted away for many years.
Viktor didn't mind though. He twirled and swayed back and forth to imaginary waltz music.
(Fanfiction . net hasn't been really working. I updated Ocean Eyes, which is the otayuri one where Yuri's hair keeps growing, but nobody got a notification.)