Sound, music! Come, my queen, take hands with me, -William Shakespeare
And rock the ground whereon these sleepers be.
Now thou and I are new in amity,
And will to-morrow midnight solemnly
Dance in Duke Theseus' house triumphantly,
And bless it to all fair prosperity:
There shall the pairs of faithful lovers be
Wedded, with Theseus, all in jollity.
A Midsummer Night's Dream; IV, i
Kurogane was, despite the several hundred years of age he'd accumulated, not what anyone might have considered "well practiced" in the ways of love. He'd taken account of this once or twice in his youth and had even made a concerted effort to do something about it, but found the cold, impersonal press of the mirror back against his lips to be lacking in both feeling and charm. He'd abandoned any silly thoughts about love soon after and resolved to save any sort of lip pressing for foodstuffs and the occasional blown raspberry.
He had to admit though, if he had been just a little bit more discerning in his choice of practice partners, his formative years might have taken on a very different character indeed.
Or maybe this was all just his forebrain kicking in its stupid two cents when it ought to have been shutting the hell up and enjoying the ride his hindbrain was busy providing, or whatever this was. The differences between Fay's warm lips and groping hands and his own reflection so many years ago were stark enough on their own, but the crackling thrill of…whatever-that-was running up his spine caught him off guard.
As did the slimy warmth snaking its way into his mouth, for that matter. Kurogane wrenched his head back. "The fu- Is that your tongue?"
Fay managed to peel himself away long enough to look confused. "Is this a trick question?"
"Uh," Kurogane considered, shifting against the stove and trying desperately not to wince at the knobs and kitchen thingamabobs catching his hairs and poking into his back, "No?"
"Aww, is Kuro-horny nervous?" Fay laughed. Truthfully, he looked more than a little nervous himself, but that didn't stop Kurogane spluttering half-intended curses in his face or swatting his hands away from his still-oversensitive horns.
Fay, of course, only laughed at this and strengthened his grip. "That's a funny way of saying-" he cut himself short and sniffed sharply at the air, "What is that?"
"What the hell are you-"
"Shh!" Fay insisted, wafting air toward his face, "Something's on fire!"
"Dammit!" Kurogane growled, "I told you it's breakfast!"
"No, not that," Fay insisted, shuffling Kurogane away from the counter, "This smells like burning hai- Oh, dear – it's you!"
Kurogane danced nervously away from Fay's flailing hands, which were fanning dangerously close to his behind. He did have to admit that something smelled off, but he would have to be an idiot to not realize he was actively on fi- "SWEET SATYR'S SIN STICK, MY TAIL!"
"Stop thrashing around so much, Kuro-flaming!"
"Don't call me that! Get a towel or something!"
"Just stand still!" Fay gripped his shoulders and shook him into stunned silence.
"Thank you," he proclaimed exaggeratedly and leaned back for a better view, "Now let's see…" He aimed an index finger at the flames and bit thoughtfully at his tongue.
"Would you just-"
"I said it's fine, Kuro-toast," Fay laughed. His wrist twisted and flicked in an intricate dance, and before Kurogane could muster the air to demand to know how in the hell that was supposed to help, a staccato stream of blue flame burst from his index finger and flew directly toward Kurogane's smoldering posterior. "That's better," Fay grinned, sniffing at the air again, "Smells better, at least."
Kurogane stared back at him, dumbfounded by the zap off electricity to his butt. "How did you…?"
"Smells like magic." Fay's grin had grown to insufferable proportions.
"She gave you your magic back."
"Now, Kuro-smolder, calm down," Fay's hands waved frantically in front of his face, "I was going to tell you-"
Kurogane crossed his arms across his chest. "You had magic all this time and you let me burn breakfast."
Fay stopped flailing long enough to let this sink in. "Oh Kuro-gruff," he said after a long moment had passed, "That mess wasn't fit for eating. It's better this way, really-"
"Shut it," Kurogane warned and grabbed at Fay's wrists to pull him close once more. He moved to kiss him again (…probably…hopefully...he very well might have been doing more looming than smooching but it was all kind of the same once you got the lips smashing together ), but was disappointed when Fay gave him the slip. "The hell?" he grumbled. He had very much been looking forward to that tongues bit again-
"I should show you something," Fay said quite seriously.
Kurogane balked. "Please don't tell me you've picked up some other bit of animal anatomy-"
"Well, no," Fay assured him, "I mean-" He drummed his fingers against his chin as Kurogane waited expectantly. "I guess I could? If you're into that sort of thing."
"What?!"
"Maybe not then-"
"Oi-"
"I've been studying," Fay finally blurted out, "Trying out some new magic."
"Oh god, what did you burn down this time-"
"Nothing like that!" Fay played nervously with his fingers. "But, well… You don't want to stay in those hooves for long, do you?"
"They're stuck, and that's fine," Kurogane said flatly, hoping against hope that Fay was insinuating what it sounded like, "Unless you've suddenly mastered transfiguration."
"As a matter of fact, I have," Fay admitted, "Or at least I've been trying to. It's handy…when you don't want to look like yourself, and it seems one of the fairies Yuuko took in to fill my old position is particularly gifted-"
"That horny kid?" Kurogane groaned, recalling a not-so-distant night in a tavern.
"That was an accident," Fay assured him, albeit unconvincingly, "Although I guess it did take a while to get sorted. Poor Kazahaya…" Fay shook the memory away and straightened himself. "That's all taken care of now, though. Glitches fixed, that kind of thing. I can have us out of these hooves and back into a pair of wings before the afternoon is over."
Kurogane stared in disbelief. He wanted to say yes – wanted to scream it from the top of his voice – but an insidious niggling of doubt was preventing him. If he accepted – if he threw away this faun's body he'd taken as payment to the queen – would that undo everything he'd accomplished in the past 24 hours? Granted, it hadn't been much, but it was more than he'd accomplished on his own before that. It wasn't worth having wings if he had to-
Had to-
"It's fine," he decided at long last, "The hooves are fine. I already decided."
"Decided?" Fay balked, "Kuro-goat, it's not like you can't go back to them if you miss them so much."
"That's not the point, idiot."
"You're worried," Fay's eyes lit up as he suddenly realized, "That somehow the queen will find out and she'll turn you into a toad or something this time."
"No."
"She was the one who introduced me to Kazahaya in the first place, you know," Fay explained, "So I doubt she would mind. Much. Anyway, I don't really think she likes you all that much."
"What's that got to do with anything?"
"I doubt she's going to go out of her way to find out what you're up to these days, unless you go and burn down the forest. Again." Fay doged quickly out of the way as Kurogane hurled recriminations and possibly a skillet at him. "That wasn't nice," he chided once the barrage had come to an end, "I can see why she doesn't like you." Fay sucked in his bottom lip and contemplated for a moment. "Look," he said at last, "It would be an honor for me to restore you to your original form. I'll…I'll change too. I mean…otherwise there are going to be rumors about bestiality and-"
"Beastie-what?"
"Nothing!" Fay clapped his hands together, "Nothing you need to worry your pretty little horns about! So…shall I go first? Or did you want to?" He twiddled his thumbs and stared at the floor. "I thought I might, so you know you can trust me-"
"Do it however you want," Kurgone cut him off before he could start wibbling, "I trust you."
"Yeah?" Fay's face lit up at this, "Um, alright then!" His eyes darted around the small kitchen, nose wrinkling thoughtfully. "I need you to promise me one thing, though."
"What?"
"Just make sure that if I fall, I don't crack my head open on something."
"Hah?"
"Space is tight in here, and the hardest part about this is not passing out."
"Hey, wait," Kurogane grabbed his arm, "Maybe you should do this somewhere else-"
"It's fine," Fay assured him, "It'll be the same anywhere. Just don't let go." Blue magic was already eeking from his fingertips, rolling along the contours of his body and circling his face. The light cast by the magic threw horrible shadows that contorted the lines of his torso and left his face looking strangled and sallow. Hiss knees collapsed beneath him. Kurogane had no difficulty believing that staying conscious was the hardest part of this exercise and for the moment was thankful that he'd never had to witness himself in this state. There wasn't much to see of Fay in this state either, it appeared: the light cocooning his body intensified, shining brightly enough to force Kurogane's eyes closed in self-preservation. It was all he could do to hold his grip steady to ensure that Fay didn't fall any further than his knees or crack his head against the countertops as the heat of the reaction bloomed and burned against his skin.
When the light finally faded, Kurogane was left staring down a very naked fairy that he was certain he'd never seen before. At least, not like this. It had been some time since he'd seen Fay outside of a faun's body, but his memory wasn't so bad that the simple passing of years would have erased the memory of the spectacular wings emerging in front of him now. No, Fay's wings had been white – nearly transparent – and round-tipped with darker veins running through them. The pair slowly unfolding from his shoulders now were a royal blue veined with silver, their tips sculpted and tapered to a point. They were stunning.
"Am I beautiful?" Fay's voice sounded weakly from somewhere near the floor.
Kurogane coughed and turned his head, realizing too late that he'd been leering like a satyr in rut (which wasn't too far from the truth, but embarrassing none the less). "Still a ridiculous ass, just more naked now." He tossed a dishtowel in Fay's general direction, which landed near his knees and did exactly nothing to cover his shame.
"Wah, so mean."
"Blue suits you."
"Oh?" Fay fished about his knees for the dishtowel. "Kuro-horny likes them?"
"Tche."
"I'll take that as a yes." Fay steadied himself against Kurogane's arm as he struggled to his feet. "Man, that really takes it out of me," he whined, "Do you mind if I rest for a minute?"
"Take whatever time you need."
"It should give you a moment to give a last loving stroke to those horns-"
"STOP MOLESTING THE HORNS."
"Alright, let's be quick about the whole thing, then," Fay pouted. He grabbed Kurogane about the shoulders and shoved him toward the center of the room. "Sit down," he ordered.
"What? Why?" Kurogane eyed the dusty, food-crusted floorboards warily.
"Because you're going to pass out," Fay chirruped happily.
"Like hell I will," Kurogane snorted, but settled his butt in a relatively clear patch of floor. There was no way he was going to black out if Fay had managed to stay conscious for the entire transformation.
"Oh Kuro-tough," Fay laughed, "You are a glutton for punishment."
"What?" Kurogane wondered out loud, but the blue magic had already encircled him, and his final thought before losing consciousness was a desperate hope that he'd remembered to close the curtains.
The best part about kissing Sakura, Syaoran decided, was that although she didn't taste like sugar or flowers or whatever-else people tended to write into poems, her lips had a mild sweetness all of their own. Sort of a…tang? as well. A meaty tang. Like a…sugared beefsteak. Or something. It probably wouldn't make for good poetry, but it was definitely enough to entice his return over and over and over-
"Syaoran?"
Syaoran, reverie interrupted and boyish single-minded fantasies shattered, momentarily redirected his attention to the face beyond Sakura's lips. "Hmm?"
"I meant to ask you…"
"Yeah?" It would be a lie to suggest that he was hoping for anything but another invitation to get squelchy beneath the nearest table to follow.
"Well, I was talking to your brother earlier-" Syaoran's heart – and probably face – fell precipitously. "-and he wanted to know what my wrist measurements were for some maneuver?"
"Oh, no-"
"I don't know what he was talking about, but I got the measurements for him and-"
"Don't worry about that," Syaoran forced out around the lump growing in his throat. It occurred to him that in his excitement over advancing his relationship to the next, erm...physical level, he may have forgotten to mention to Eriol that he would not, in fact, be taking his relationship to the next sacramental level of marriage just yet. It also occurred to him that he should probably smash his perverted brother's face in for this, but that was something he'd probably never work up the courage to do.
"He also wanted to know if I was allergic to rabbit fur."
Or maybe not. "That's not something he ever needs to know," Syaoran soothed, relaxing into a cold, detached state. Perhaps beating Eriol within an inch of his life was nothing less than he deserved-
"But don't you think the handcuffs will chafe without it?"
"Buh- What?"
Sakura slipped a hand under his shoulders before he crashed, sputtering into the ground once again. "I'm only teasing," she smiled. He relaxed again, though much more warmly this time. "Seriously, though. Your brother is a pervert."
"I know," Syaoran groaned, "I'm sorry."
"It'll be alright," Sakura soothed, tracing her fingertip down to the very point of his nose, "As long as you keep him away from our baby."
"Wait, what?"
"Kidding, again," Sakura laughed, "Now maybe…just calm down and enjoy the afternoon, ok?" She raised an eyebrow toward him, seemingly expecting an argument. When none came, she grinned triumphantly and made quick work of putting his lips to other uses.
Yukito watched the happy couple sprawled in the lawn with an almost parental pride. It was the first time he'd seen them so calm, so at ease with each other. The blushing and gaping and poorly choreographed tap-dance routines they normally favored seemed to have faded away over night. Even if they were still sneaking kisses like naughty children hiding from their parents, he had to admit this was a huge step forward for them.
He doubted Touya would agree, however, and shifted his position on the tree branch he was busy clinging to just enough to keep the lord's view obscured. Not that it really mattered all that much. Touya, for all their spectacular vantage at this height, was too deeply engrossed in his own jubilation over not gaining a brother-in-law to actually make use of it. Yukito winced as his Lord and Fiancé slapped a palm over his eyes and collapsed backward onto a nearby bough. The entire tree shook with the impact and continued to waver as Touya rolled about, cackling with glee.
"Apparently," he managed between fits of laughter, "Apparently all she needed was bad sex under the kitchen table to convince her not to marry the brat!"
"Touya!"
"I mean, hell," Touya continued to bellow, "If I had known it was that easy, maybe I would have suggested it-"
"You would have killed them thrice over," Yukito snorted, "Besides which, you don't know-"
"Everyone knows-"
"Either way," Yukito said with finality and jostled himself down to rest in Touya's lap. He pinned his knees into either side of Touya's thighs and leaned heavily to the right to keep that view obscured, "You would have been an awful curmudgeon about it, the same way you're being one now. And," he added with a furtive glance over his shoulder, "This is probably only a temporary victory for you, anyway." He grinned as Touya's face twisted into a pout. "That's not a good look for you."
Touya regarded him petulantly for a few seconds, then craned his neck as far as he could around Yukito's shoulders to get a better look at the ground and the disgustingly affectionate lovers huddled there. He collapsed back onto the bough with an irritable scoff and promptly changed the subject. "This feels backward."
"What does?"
"You pinning me to a tree," Touya grumped and shuffled his hips.
"I see," Yukito laughed, "You'd rather the tree was in charge then?" He dug a finger into Touya's side and almost immediately regretted it as the entire bough rocked and swayed in retaliation. He pressed him palm soothingly into the abused patch of skin and bit his lip. "You're letting this go awful quickly."
"Hmph," Touya looked quickly away, "What should I do? I already got my way, you're the one who has to go and ruin it by pointing out how cute they are."
"Actually, I think you put that together for yourself-"
"Oh, who cares," Touya waved a hand wildly, "I only wanted to enjoy the brat's massive failure of proper courtship etiquette." He attempted to pout again, but this melted away into renewed cackling which shook the branches all the more.
"You're going fall out," Yukito chided and kicked at the soles of Touya's boots, "Which would defeat the entire purpose of being up here in the first place."
Touya snorted at this, but gripped the bough with a second hand all the same. "Why are we up here, anyway? Espionage and subterfuge aren't your normal-"
"Lord Touya!" Lady Akizuki's voice rang loud and clear from somewhere across the garden. Touya shuddered and shrank back behind the foliage.
"Oh, right."
"Espionage and subterfuge, no," Yukito agreed, "But cowering in the name of my lord's continued sanity is something I will always stoop to, when called upon." He stuck his tongue out the corner of his mouth and dug his knees harder into Touya's legs as Touya started struggling again in earnest. At this rate, he was going to send them both tumbling out of the tree. Especially if he kept insisting on using his elbows as bludgeons like that. "To-ya!" he caught a wrist and pinned it to the tree, hoping this might calm the trashing, just a little bit anyway. "Actually, I wanted to ask you something."
Touya stopped fighting him just long enough to cock an eyebrow. "Hmm?"
"Your sister and Syaoran," he said, "It's such a small thing, but I was thinking that it would be nice to have them in the wedding party." He braced himself as Touya's face twisted into a grotesque caricature of itself. "We haven't seen much of them since we made it back and well…" he trailed off, wondering for a moment if he wasn't just being silly, "I thought it would feel more like a…like a family."
Touya stared at him for a long moment, lips twitching between "horrified" and "amused" postures. He finally settled on "amused" and wrestled his hand away long enough to cup Yukito's cheek. "You're really a sap, aren't you?"
"Proudly."
"Yeah, I suppose," Touya sighed, "Probably better that way, since they won't be able to crawl off to the kitchens early."
Yukito shot him a look.
"Or god forbid, go sneaking off under some poor statesman's table."
"You're terrible."
"Not to mention that it's always a good idea to keep your friends close and your enemies closer."
"Well, if that's the case, maybe we had better ask Lady Akizuki to join in as well." Yukito grinned and shook a far-splaying tree branch.
"You wouldn't dare."
"Oh, but she and that brother would make such a lovely pair traipsing down the aisle," Yukito smirked, "She could be the flower girl. But instead of flowers, she could scatter little slips of paper detailing all the ways that she'd like to-"
Touya clapped a hand over his mouth. "I'm terrible?"
"The worst," Yukito mumbled against the skin of Touya's palm.
"A title I'll wear with pride," Touya sighed, "Just so long as the brat convinces his brother to call his damned attack servant off."
"You could go down there and ask him," Yukito offered helpfully.
"Or we could just stay up here."
"And continue to hide from her?"
"Don't be ridiculous, we're keeping an eye on my sister."
"Of course," Yukito snorted, and eased himself onto a more comfortable bough, "Because you haven't learned your lesson about that yet, apparently. Let's hope, then, that they're not as quick about things as last night." He folded his arms behind his head and closed his eyes to the sunshine battering his face, determined to enjoy every last moment of Touya's horrified silence.
The humans' castle was drab and over-engineered, at least to Watanuki's sensibilities (which in all fairness had been biased quite heavily by his months living amongst the natural architecture of the fairies). In comparison, these towering walls set at right angles seemed overly serious and blocky. Even the turrets – which might have introduced an element of whimsy to the whole design – stood sternly in place, staring down at the landscaping below like some sort of disapproving grandmother. It was as if someone had spent a huge sum of money on a design dreamed up by a toddler with a pile of blocks.
It dawned on him, somewhere between tipetoeing across the huge, creaking draw bridge, trying not to think of the carnivorous reptiles that were no doubt waiting to devour him below, and staring in awe at the small army of men needed to lift the bridge back into position once they'd crossed, that perhaps humans valued intimidation more than beauty in their architecture. If that was the case, then they were truly masters of their craft.
"State your business, men."
The men manning the gate, too, were impressively intimidating with their bulging muscles and pointed staffs. They'd already given their papers – well, Doumeki's papers and a wild story about why he wasn't carrying any – to the guards outside the gate, but this didn't stop Watanuki from launching into a hysteria-driven recap, complete with excessive gesticulation and whimpering.
He was half-way through the long and bitter tale when Doumeki cut him off. "I'm here to officiate the royal wedding," he said simply.
Watanuki glared. It was if he didn't even appreciate the effort he'd put into his own cover story.
"And who's this, then?" the guard nodded to Watanuki, "And what's he blathering on about having no papers for?"
"My assistant," Doumeki explained, "And he's had a rough day."
"Looks like it," the guard agreed, "Smells like he's covered in rotten eggs."
"That would be this unholy bastard's fault-" Watanuki blurted before his brain could catch up with his tongue. He cleared his throat and tried again. "There was an incident earlier and-"
"It's ectoplasm," Doumeki interrupted, "He interfered in an exorcism in the forest."
"What's ectoplasm?" the guard balked, poking the blunt end of his staff into the goo dripping from Watanuki's vest. "Spirit stuff?"
"You could call it that," Doumeki agreed.
"I could, could I?" the guard scoffed and backed away slowly, "Well, I'm not one to be meddling in supernatural hocus pocus. If you say rotten eggs are ectoplasm, I'll say that's that, priest. Anyway, your papers check out, so you and your altar boy here can-"
"I am not his altar boy!"
The guard raised an eyebrow in Watanuki's direction. "You and your angry spirit-spunk covered assistant here can go to the room laid out of you. Toad here will show you the way."
Watanuki swallowed down a throatful of anger and turned his attention to the man called "Toad." He was, surprisingly, neither fat, nor squat, nor even covered in warts, which left Watanuki wondering if humans were perhaps as strange a lot as the fairies had been. The though was…strangely comforting. In its way.
They meandered through the courtyard and into a poorly lit back stairway that brought them – surprisingly – to a grand hallway lined with doors and decorated with a class and eye for beauty Watanuki hadn't known humans possessed. He let out a low whistle of appreciation.
"I know, right?" Toad grinned back at him, "You must be one impressive priest for Her Highness to put you up with all the other fancy guests like this."
Doumeki shrugged. Watanuki snorted.
"Shame we didn't know you were travelling with an assistant, though," Toad pushed one of the tall, gilded doors open and ushered them through, pointedly ignoring their mostly-silent bickering, "You'll have to talk to one of the house staff about bringing up a cot and some extra bedding."
"It's fine," Watanuki waved the instruction away, plopping onto the overstuffed bed and running the palms of his hands against the velvet bed covering, "The big idiot can sleep on the floor."
"Um, sir?" Toad looked exceptionally confused.
"It's fine," Doumeki reassured him, "Just a side effect of the spirit spooge."
"I had no idea." Toad shook his head sadly.
"It's best you didn't," Doumeki shrugged, and walked Toad back toward the door, "He should be fine after a bath."
"If he's not, we can send up a regiment-"
"Won't be necessary." Doumeki attempted to shut the door behind the guard and end the farce once and for all, but was thwarted by a slender hand that wound its way between the door and frame and held it fast in place. After a moment of pushing, Doumeki relented and opened the door once again.
Watanuki sat upright on the bed, annoyed. "What is it this time?"
"I thought I heard a familiar whine," the man in the doorway greeted him.
The man was at once familiar and foreign: his face bore a striking similarity to Watanuki's, yet the countenance with which he stood and sneered spoke of a self-confidence bordering on arrogance that the travelling priest's "assistant" would have been able to muster in a thousand years. Watanuki tried desperately to place the man – to assign him a name, a family, a split-second's worth of memory – but it was all for naught. He received only a massive headache for his efforts.
"Well don't just stand there gawping, Kimi," the man chided, stepping through the doorway, "How many years has it been now?"
Watanuki's head throbbed with a fresh pang of annoyance and anger. He knew in that instant that this must be his brother, Eriol.
He promptly passed out.