Title: Of Sparrows and Princes
Author: sllebswap
Beta'd by: MelissaRose85
Characters/Pairing: Miura Haru and Belphegor
Type: OneShot Collection (InComplete)
Genre: Romance/General/Humor
Word Count: 8019
Rating: T (Contains content not suitable for children)
Disclaimer: Kateikyoushi Hitman Reborn belongs to Akira-san.
Summary: TYL ficlet. Various one-shots depicting the complicated relationship between Belphegor and Haru.
Chapter Last Revised on: 14/01/11
Chapter Thirty Seven
Haru had been quite awed when they arrived at their destination one day later. It had taken a long air journey across the Pacific Ocean as well as a couple of pit stops to refill the aircraft's fuel tanks before they finally made the landing on a 122-acre, partially developed private island in The Bahamas, and the brunette had been pleasantly surprised by the sunny climate and warm, balmy weather when she stepped out of the airplane. Much to her delight, she could smell the salty sea breeze right upon arrival and it was enough to convince her to look forward to the rest of her honeymoon.
The island surroundings were pristine and left mostly untouched from what Haru could see, looking invitingly tropical to the thrilled woman. She quickly turned to her husband in excitement, the latter of whom looked quite overdressed in this hot and humid climate and was gingerly leaving the cool confines of the aircraft cabin. With his golden hair and pale, aristocratic features, Belphegor greatly resembled a disgruntled vampire who had gotten himself stuck in the wrong country, and even taking off his Varia jacket did not seem to help matters at all. Haru was half convinced that he was going to melt under the sun, but he only seemed somewhat irritable and fussy as they waited briefly for the chauffer to arrive, left with no choice but to brave the elements outside for a little while, so to speak.
Haru had basked quite happily under the warm sunshine, clearly enjoying the weather that her significant other failed to embrace with equal fervor. It became quickly apparent that Bel was only barely tolerating the equatorial climate and humid, tropical atmosphere, swearing impatiently under his breath when the ground transport took a little too long to arrive. He certainly did not look anywhere near as enchanted or as impressed by the lush, exotic surroundings as compared to his wife, that was for sure.
In fact, by the time they were ensconced in the safety of the vehicle, the usually pale-skinned blonde was looking rather flushed from the heat, and it quickly dawned on Haru that he was not used to the warm temperature. He was European by descent, hailing from a country up in the North that remained comfortably cool even on the hottest of days, and he was most definitely not appreciative of the stifling weather, enchanting island or not.
Thankfully enough, there was a mini freezer in the back of the luxury sedan, well stocked with refreshments, and together with the powerful air conditioner that Belphegor had ordered to be turned on at full blast, he was able to cool down quite quickly.
Haru had merely stared at her husband's exaggerated measures to combat the heat; really, he was such a spoilt prince. She had to admit that the temperature was a tad too warm for her tastes as well, but it was midday and the sun was at its zenith, so it was therefore quite naturally hot.
She was about to ask why he had chosen such a location for them to go to if he was so disgruntled by the local weather, but promptly lost her train of thought when the car pulled into the long, stately driveway of the impressive, Queen Anne manor-styled residence that seemed to have appeared from out of nowhere. It was as if the trees and the foliage of the dense forest had suddenly decided to pull back and reveal the quaint, charming gem of architecture, and she had been momentarily distracted by the elegant lines and slopes of the rather large manor, taking note of the green, well trimmed lawn and what looked like a small garden nestled into the side of the house.
Although the notion of such classic European architecture sitting in the middle of an island in The Bahamas would seem downright out of place and incongruent, it hardly looked that way to Haru at all. As the vehicle slowly approached the sheltered porch, she could see that the building was still quite new and obviously well kept, most likely built sometime within the last decade.
The house was maintained by a group of locals who lived and worked on the manor grounds. The small gathering of friendly, albeit somewhat nervous, staff had been waiting to welcome them at the entrance of the foyer when they entered the house, though in usual Haru fashion she had been thoroughly charmed by their native accents to notice when they greeted her with her new title.
Haru was especially surprised when she spotted Mortigor and Francesca standing unobtrusively at the side of the small group. The two of Bel's most loyal servants had been flown in specially to cater to their master's needs, and they came forward only when the rest of the manor's staff were dispersing to return to their respective duties. The impeccably dressed butler and the genteel, quiet housekeeper greeted their Prince and his Princess Consort with austere formality.
"Your Highnesses, congratulations on your nuptials. May this special union be a blessed and happy one. It will be our honor to serve and protect Princess Haru from now on, as well as all royal heirs born hereafter."
Mortigor had spoken on behalf of himself and all of his colleagues, the capable and efficient men and women who made up Bel's personal staff, and he certainly wasn't being subtle in their collective desire to see their Prince produce some offspring to ensure the continuation of the royal line. Haru blushed as she thanked them for their well wishes, though her unhelpful, impatient husband had merely stood around and look hot and surly.
"Well?" he demanded at last. "Can we pander to the new princess on our own time? And what is going to take for the central air-conditioning in this hellish place to actually work?"
Newlywed or not, Belphegor was definitely as charming as usual, and whereas Haru narrowed her eyes slightly at his ill-tempered manners, his servants merely served him with their usual promptness and knowing ways, well honed from the decades of catering to their master's irritable moods and sometimes cranky behavior. Without pause the royal couple was ushered through the large foyer and then up one of the impressive, winding twin grand staircases that flanked the main hall, and Haru was unwittingly captivated and intrigued by the flawless infusion of southern practicality and the charming, old English infrastructure and interior decorations.
Belphegor obviously noticed the light of interest in her eyes as she watched her surroundings with unconcealed curiosity.
"Like what you see?" he asked, though it was a rather redundant question. The pleasure that showed on her expressive features easily told him that she was thrilled just to be here.
The brunette turned to her husband and nodded quickly, the smile on her face portraying her delight.
"Everything looks wonderful," she agreed. "I think I will enjoy our stay here."
"You'd better," he muttered under his breath as they both strolled down the wide hallway after Francesca. Mortigor had dismissed himself earlier to see to lunch. "You are the owner of this place now, after all."
The simple enjoyment of her beautiful, inviting surroundings was quickly put aside at his remark. Haru stopped and stared at Belphegor for a good moment or so before she quickly scrambled after him.
"What do you mean by that?" she demanded as she quickly followed him through the manor. "What have you done now?"
Belphegor rolled his eyes, exasperated. Most women in her shoes would have been thrilled by the hint of an extravagant gift from their significant other, but the one he married just reacted with a good dose of wariness, almost as if expecting him to do something outrageous again, which wasn't really far from the truth, not that he would ever admit it.
"I'm not going to repeat myself," he grumbled crossly, too hot under the collar to graciously accommodate his wife's disbelief. "Are you hard of hearing?"
Haru refused to be sidetracked this time around.
"Did you seriously buy this house?" she asked, astonished.
"No," he replied promptly. "I didn't just buy the house. I bought the whole damned island."
He sounded like he was beginning to have second thoughts over purchasing prime real estate in a country whose climate he did not quite agree with, and Haru gawked at his offhanded remark. He was so…impulsive!
It wasn't as though he was making some small, casual purchase; the island that they were on was an impressively huge piece of land in a prime part of The Bahamas, a place the truly wealthy and famous made their playground. The sprawling, well kept manor, the private airfield that was installed with costly, high-tech equipment, even the well connected, fully paved roads all hinted at the extensive amount of development that had been invested into this island, and Haru was getting the impression that Belphegor had decided to buy the place on a whim.
Really! Sometimes she had no idea what he was thinking. He was most undoubtedly an unquestionable genius most of the time, but then he'd suddenly go off and do the most impulsive and airheaded things at random times that would make her question his commonsense, or sometimes lack thereof.
As if aware of her incredulous thoughts, her new husband shrugged irritably.
"Alaisdair had mentioned that it would be a good investment," the blonde grumbled in his defense. "But if I had known earlier that I'd be buying a piece of hell on earth, I wouldn't have touched it with a fifty foot pole."
Haru shot him an exasperated stare. "You know, if you had actually done some research prior to throwing your money around like nobody's business, then perhaps you would have known that the climate here does not suit you," she replied in an annoyingly reasonable manner.
He scowled. Here he was, tormented by this insufferable heat, and she was proving to be completely unsympathetic to his plight. Some caring wife she was turning out to be.
"Well, it's yours; do whatever the hell you want with it. And this is the absolute last time I'm getting you anything, you ungrateful wench," he muttered with snappy disgruntlement, and she stared at him in surprise.
He barged his way through the door that Francesca had opened for them then, cagily sauntering into bedroom suite with irritated arrogance. Haru trailed behind him at a calmer, more sedate pace, and she smiled at the housekeeper distractedly in thanks before the latter retreated discreetly, her duty accomplished, leaving the newlywed couple alone in the privacy of their room.
The suite was a fairly impressive piece of work as well, elegantly decorated in a Victorian style. The large bed that dominated the entire room was hued in rich burgundy and brocade tones, and Haru vaguely noticed that all the furniture in the room possessed more or less a similar theme, with varying shades of deep crimson. The room looked exotic but also delightfully plush and inviting at the same time, and Haru was immediately drawn to the bed, sitting on its edge and giving it an experimental bounce or three, finding the springiness of the mattress much to her satisfaction.
Belphegor had headed straight for the adjoining bathroom without looking at anything else, shedding his clothes left and right with the unmistakable intention to immerse himself in a cooling shower. He disappeared through the doorframe but didn't shut the door, and very soon, Haru could hear the sounds of running water wafting from the bath.
Haru absently caressed the smooth silk sheet of the bed with her fingers. It felt nice and cool, she thought, finally lying back in a sprawl on the inviting mattress. The central air conditioner was working quite nicely too, and together with the comfy surface and quiet atmosphere, it didn't take long for Haru to fall into a contented nap.
She was lying curled on her side on the bed and clearly asleep by the time he emerged from his shower some twenty minutes later, considerably less surly and irritable now that he wasn't hot and sweaty and unbearably sticky. His new wife looked rather comfortable where she was lying in the middle of the mattress, and after he had dried his hair, he discarded the towel and climbed into bed beside her, unashamedly nude and intent to make her at least partially so as well.
She must have been quite jetlagged from all the flying about, for she slept like the dead and didn't even stir when he removed her blouse and unhooked her bra. Taking off her knee length skirt required a bit more skill but he managed, at last leaving her only in the small scrap of sunny yellow, cute rubber ducky themed cotton that served as her panties, and those he decided to leave be for the moment.
She emitted a sleepy, kittenish churr from her throat and turned towards him then, instinctively cuddling up against him, bare skin against bare skin, nuzzling her face against his chest with unhidden affection. He rolled onto his back and took her with him, his arm locked around her waist, his nose buried amongst her hair. She smelt as wonderful as usual, her innate softness irresistible to him, and he easily felt himself relax around her. Haru continued to sleep, her body pliant and trusting, not even jolting awake when he slipped a hand under the elastic waistband of her panties to cup her pert bottom.
The blonde gave the softly rounded, tensile flesh a firm, happy squeeze. That piece of ass officially belonged to him now, he thought smugly. As usual, he was starting to get aroused just by being in her proximity, the addictive warmth of her inner thighs completely distracting and alluring, but this time around, he checked his urges, gallantly allowing her to get some rest before they got down to the business of procreating for Bel Jr.
Of course, he didn't move his hand away from her delectable backside, had in fact shifted and deliberately aligned their bodies to fit just so that her pelvis straddled the lean cradle of his loins, the hot softness between her legs rubbing against his semi-erect member. She sighed and wriggled slightly, her eyes still closed in sleep, and a small growl of lust rumbled from his chest.
The warmth she generated was most definitely the only type of heat that he welcomed with unrestrained fervor, though regrettably enough, he controlled himself from the rather tempting urge to slide into her inviting body and wake her up with a rousing round of hot, passionate sex. The woman was clearly not used to jetting around the world like he often did and was therefore exhausted, and the blonde was reluctant to wake her up just yet. He cursed inwardly and closed his eyes instead, praying for patience as he waited for his goddamn hard on to subside some. He was in a hell of his own making.
Belphegor frowned.
Good god, he wasn't even married for two whole days and already he was acting the role of a devoted, considerate husband. The look on the blonde's face quickly turned to one of disgruntled incredulity. The other Varia Commanders were definitely going to have a field day if they ever caught wind of this development, not that he planned to let any one of them know. Ever.
He would shoot himself first if he was ever in danger of turning into one of those husbands who constantly ran after their errant wives like chickens without their heads.
Curled up safely by his side, the armful of sweet smelling woman he held continued to slumber on blissfully, unaware of the physical and mental discomfort that she was putting her husband through.
This was definitely not the climatic beginning to their honeymoon that he had envisioned, especially since his Princess Consort had gone and fallen asleep on him before anything of the more amorous nature could be put into action, but Belphegor had to admit that she had a pretty good idea, to nap away the warm, balmy afternoon.
He could always begin the ravishing later that evening, but for now, sleep sounded pretty good, especially since their surroundings were quiet and tranquil, and Haru was in her place right by his side.
The golden-haired Prince closed his eyes, his sinewy, whipcord frame relaxing even more, lulled by the peaceful atmosphere.
It wasn't long before both inhabitants of the master bedchamber were fast asleep.
When Haru woke up an hour later, still somewhat groggy and languid from slumber, she found herself lying in bed, splayed on top of Belphegor. She was also quite nude, clad only in her panties in fact, though she wasn't very alarmed by her unclothed state. The air conditioner was working on full blast; the room was ridiculously cold compared to the tropical climate outside, but the warmth that came from her husband was enough to keep her at a comfortable temperature.
As he normally did, he held her securely like he would a beloved teddy bear, and she stirred slightly, tilting her head to look at him. He was clearly fast asleep, his tousled blonde fringe settling over the upper half of his face as always, his angular, aristocratic features relaxed in repose, his usually sardonically smirking lips slightly parted as his chest rose and fell steadily with his every breath. He was completely unguarded and looked innocently harmless lying beneath her, a beautiful, sleeping Adonis Prince with a chiseled, lean body of a flawless assassin.
And from yesterday onwards, he was also her husband.
He was the man she loved with her entire being, and now they were tied firmly together by the bonds of marriage. For some reason, that confirmation easily sent her heart all aflutter with joy. She felt uncharacteristically lighthearted and giddy like a love struck schoolgirl, and the small but brilliant smile that lit up her face just said about everything.
It was the truth that she was very happy to be by his side, and it showed in the tenderness in her soft, doe brown eyes as well as the gentle, chaste kiss that she pressed lovingly on to the corner of his mouth before settling contentedly back in the circle of his arms. She cuddled trustingly into his embrace, nuzzling her face against his neck and closing her eyes, slowly sliding back into a light doze.
I will be in your care from now on, she thought happily.
And one day, I will make you realize that you love me just as much as I love you.
Alaisdair stepped confidently into the conference chambers of the Royal Council, glancing briefly at the rows of stern faces and austere facades of the various aristocrats who were attending this hastily called meeting before he calmly took his seat before the audience.
Outwardly, Archduke Rousseau was a picture of serenity and unflappable grace. Inwardly, the dark-haired male was grimly amused as he stared casually back at the group of elder nobles with their usual pinched expressions and disapproving glares, well aware that he was giving them a small conniption fit just by being present. Most in the group of fussy traditionalists had never truly forgiven him for his supposedly 'vulgar intrusion' of the sacred House of Nobles, namely due to the stain of his scandalous history.
Alaisdair was what one would term an illegitimate child, or in more vulgar words, a bastard. He was the byproduct of a drunken one night stand between his noble sire and a shrewd gold digging actress of a mother, and the other lords had never let him forget that. Despite the previous Archduke's lascivious skirt chasing ways, Alaisdair had been his only issue. Bastard or not, a DNA test had quickly proven his paternity, not to mention secured Alaisdair the position as his heir as well as the second-in-line to the royal throne, right after his distant cousin, Crown Prince Belphegor.
And when the horny old coot had met an abrupt, anticlimactic end between the thighs of a young social escort involving the liberal usage of those infamous little blue pills, the whole thing had been quickly hushed up and Alaisdair had been promptly pushed into his father's position as the head of his family. He had earned an automatic seat amongst the House of Nobles, much to the dismay of the other 'pure' aristocrats, and they never quite forgave him when the Crown Prince picked him out of all the other young bloods to serve as royal steward and retainer.
Belphegor had chosen him mostly because of his intelligence and capability to swiftly perform his duties with great efficiency, and of course it was an added bonus that he could piss off the council just by presence alone. The sardonically gleeful Prince had all but appointed him on the spot within moments of their first meeting.
It had also helped that Alaisdair did not have the inclination to run off in fear of the murderous, sadistic blonde like the past four stewards were wont to do, and it had taken an entire fortnight or so of keen observation before the dark-haired male finally found Belphegor's weakness in the form of stacks of paperwork. And the rest, as they say, was history.
It had been at least a decade since they had started working together, and although Alaisdair was not exactly thrilled to serve as a human barrier between the troublemaking blonde and the Royal Council, he had to admit that life was far from boring as the steward of an assassin Prince. Alaisdair had never had to announce a wedding on behalf of Belphegor before, but he was certainly looking forward to doing so this time around. Bless their new Princess Consort; thanks to her grace, he was going to be treated to a spectacular show today.
It was enough to bring a small, cool smile to the man's handsome, angular features.
The meeting began without much ado when all the members of the various noble families were accounted for.
The highest ranked and most senior of the House was quick to narrow his bespectacled, rheumy gaze on the much younger Archduke. The elder's thin, hooked nose had never failed to remind Alaisdair of a vulture's sharp merciless beak, and it didn't help matters any that this particular aristocrat was as bald as one either.
"Archduke Rousseau," the old man began in a thin, nasal tone after the former had serenely, formally, greeted the Lords gathered in the conference chamber. "What is your purpose of calling this hasty, impromptu audience?"
Judging by the general air of disgruntlement in the room, it went unsaid that not many were thrilled by his decision to make an important announcement in the early hours of the morning.
"I'm here on official business on behalf of His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Belphegor," Alaisdair replied with cool composure.
A look of reluctant interest crept into the eyes of the older man. It was rare that the Prince had something to say to the Council, and despite their strong disapproval over the blonde's violent antics and hell raising ways, they were still holding out for the hope that Belphegor would eventually settle down and take his duties seriously.
Sardonically, Alaisdair noted that the elder's demeanor quickly changed at his simple remark, as did most of the older aristocrats' who had seats in the prestigious House. Hypocrites, all of them. The dark-haired Archduke smiled thinly at the suddenly attentive manner in which he was being scrutinized by the group as a whole. If he was the dramatic, over imaginative sort, he would have imagined himself stuck in a wolves' den, smack dab in the middle of the pack's eldest, wiliest beasts, slavering and silently jockeying for position as they watched him intently, old age and treachery gleaming in those scheming, aged gazes, waiting for the slightest opportunity to pounce on any mistake that he would make...
Alaisdair was not too concerned though. He had walked into this chamber with the full knowledge that he was backed by the most dangerous of them all, and this particular group of aristocrats knew it as well. It was the reason why they were so eager for their Prince to succeed the throne; a pack of hungry, opportunistic predators could bring down much larger prey—provided the one that led the hunt was aggressive and powerful enough to keep the group from turning against itself.
The Royal Family of Tsiveone had always ruled their kingdom through sheer power and intimidation, and according to the narrow mindset of the noble subjects, based on unyielding tradition and outdated customs, that must never change.
Belphegor could do no wrong in their eyes, at least, nothing that could not be forgiven or overlooked. As far as the Council was concerned, the blonde had already proven himself worthy of the throne by both the existence of the royal blood that flowed within his veins as well as through the rite of mortal combat. Coupled with his mad genius and ruthless capability to manipulate people as and when necessary (though most of the time for his own gain more than anything else), they were convinced that he would make a brilliant King, and were therefore determined to make sure it happened as soon as possible.
It was especially so when the other alternative was to hand over the throne to the bastard son of a disgraced aristocrat who was infamous for his lecherous skirt chasing ways and scandal-filled past, Alaisdair thought with rueful amusement. It was rather understandable that the elders would rather keep pushing the position onto his distant assassin cousin, even if Belphegor had no interest whatsoever in the endless responsibilities that came with the title.
"Well, Archduke Rousseau? What is this announcement that His Highness wishes the House of Nobles to know?" the same elder demanded with barely veiled impatience. Alaisdair was hardly offended by the testy tone; Belphegor had always referred to this particular elder as a 'crusty old fart.' If anything, the glacier blue eyes of the dark-haired male only seemed to reflect mild amusement.
"Gentlemen, Lord Rothesby," Alaisdair addressed the entire room with silky calm. "This announcement concerns the decision that our Prince has recently made in consideration of his marital status."
It was rather entertaining to watch the twenty or so aristocrats in attendance stare at him in surprise. It also didn't hurt to notice how the various fathers of unmarried daughters sat up immediately to pay attention to his next words. They were definitely going to be in for a surprise if they thought they could foist their female offspring onto his cousin.
"Marital status, you say?" Lord Nicholas Rothesby, also known as the 'crusty old fart,' was quick to ask. "Has His Highness finally acquiesced to do his duty by his Kingdom?"
It was interesting to note how the elder spoke of the royal marriage like it required a huge sacrifice on Belphegor's part. In hindsight, it probably would have been so, if not for the fact that the blonde had the good sense to choose his own woman.
Alaisdair decided not to give a verbal reply. He inclined his head graciously instead, and excited murmurs started to float through the room.
Lord Rothesby nodded approvingly.
"It is about time His Highness takes up the duty of setting up his nursery," the old man commented blithely.
It was too good of an opening to waste, especially since the Archduke had been debating how he should announce the joyful news of Belphegor's marriage to the Council.
"Do not worry, Lord Rothesby," Alaisdair drawled tranquilly. "I'm very sure that the Prince is quite diligently seeing to that particular endeavor even as we speak."
They didn't get his meaning at first.
Then, the Archduke stood up from his seat and withdrew a sealed envelope from the inside pocket of his coat. He strolled unhurriedly towards the elder and passed the crisp, enclosed folder of documents to the latter.
Lord Rothesby started to frown when he accepted the paperwork from the younger man. He broke open the seal and started to read. By now, the rest of the other lords were definitely getting curious over the unusual proceedings. The quiet murmurs in the room rose a few decibels.
True to form, by the time Rothesby was done reading the documents, he was scowling furiously.
"What is the meaning of this, Archduke?" the elder squawked with disbelief, still gawking at the outrageous piece of information that he had just read. Was this a joke?
Alaisdair merely slipped on a politely vague expression on his face. Inwardly, the dark-haired man was chuckling quietly at the rapidly reddening features of the old man. It was not often that he could liken the austere, pompous lord to an outraged turkey like the old man looked now.
"Well, it means that congratulations are in order to the Royal House of Tsiveone," Alaisdair spoke levelly, enjoying the moment but still careful to keep a straight face. "After all, you are looking at our Prince's marriage certificate, Lord Rothesby."
"What do you mean she went outside?" Belphegor demanded irritably as he stared at his housekeeper.
Francesca was unfazed by her master's fearsome scowl. The matronly female nodded placidly in confirmation. "The Princess Consort desired to explore the grounds," Francesca replied sedately. "There is no reason why she cannot be allowed to do as she pleases."
In other words, his head servants were so thrilled by the existence of their new Princess that they were more than willing to satisfy her every little whim. The fact that they genuinely liked and approved of his Japanese-born wife seemed to give her the liberty of getting away with anything she wanted, he thought rather begrudgingly.
"So you let her outside even when the security parameters have not been established yet?" the blonde accused sharply, clearly aggravated.
It was obvious that Belphegor was not pleased that his chosen mate had been allowed to leave the security of the house unprotected when the area around it had not been officially cleared of threats yet. That and the blonde was nowhere near ready to let Haru out of his sight so soon after she had been tricked away from him the last time, and was understandably quite irritated when he woke up without her anywhere nearby.
Fortunately enough, Francesca seemed to understand the reason behind his displeasure.
"Mortigor, as well as a couple of the mansion's help, accompanied Her Highness on her stroll, Your Highness. Your Consort is being well guarded from any form of danger; there is no cause for worry."
The golden-haired male stiffened briefly as if gravely insulted. He stared at the serene, calm gaze of his trusted servant and promptly decided that the senile old woman must be out of her mind. His scowl worsened.
"I'm not worried," he snapped defensively.
Just because he finally went and got married did not mean that he had suddenly joined the ranks of those wimpy husbands who fretted over their wives all the damned time, and Belphegor was quite suspicious of any shifty characters who dared to insinuate otherwise. "It's just going to be annoying as hell if she went and got herself kidnapped again. How on earth are we supposed to create heirs if she won't stay put in bed?" he grumbled under his breath. "I'm not going to spend the whole of this trip chasing after that woman…"
Francesca merely stood aside and waited patiently as her master continued to vent belligerently, aware that the young man was only disgruntled to wake up without convenient access to his new wife. The blonde had much to learn still as a husband, but it was not in the housekeeper's place to provide advice in this circumstance. The young master whom she had helped raised from a very small child to this capable, powerful individual was her King in all but title, and the middle-aged woman was quietly proud that he was now a married man, slowly but surely shouldering the responsibilities that was his to take by birthright.
For now though, he still muttered and complained like a petulant teenager, and Francesca observed as her master vehemently denied his emotional attachment to his young, pretty wife, completely reluctant to see the truth in his relationship with his Consort and determined to tell everyone otherwise. The blonde royal was clearly in denial—after all, everyone knew that elopements were only done for love matches. Never mind that he had gone so far as to prepare an extreme backup plan to kidnap her should she refuse his proposal again, but by now, even the household staff back at the Varia castle could see that their Prince was clearly smitten with his lover and now wife. And fortunately for everyone involved, it was blatantly clear that his mate loved him back with equal fervor, if not even more.
Needless to say, the servants were rather hopeful that their temperamental Prince would remain in marital bliss for as long as possible.
"Well? So where is she?" Belphegor asked at last, but not before blustering a lot. Evidently, the golden-haired assassin felt the rather pressing need to disassociate himself from the rest of the other doting husbands, most likely fueled by the false belief that being happily married would make him seem tamed and domesticated. The blonde really didn't have to worry about the self perceived change in his image—those who knew of him even in passing were more likely to feel sorry for the poor woman whom he had picked out to be his life partner; either that or wonder in trepidation just what kind of fearsome female it took to snare the assassin Prince's attention.
They'd be surprised by how endearingly ordinary the new Princess Consort was.
It was definitely love alright, even if her master kept denying vehemently.
Dutifully, Francesca divulged the directions to the Princess's current location, watching bemusedly as the Prince promptly strode through the main door and out of the house in search of his mate, all the while muttering about how he could hardly care less about Haru, and that how ridiculous, he was certainly not worried.
Nobody asked the housekeeper, but it did look like the golden-haired royal had it pretty bad for his bride.
True to form, Mortigor as well as a few of the locally hired guards were keeping careful watch over their mistress when Belphegor finally arrived at the edge of the hidden lagoon that was part of the island.
A full moon hung low and pregnant on the night skies, accompanied by broad swathes of sparkling stars. The peaceful, calm waters of the lagoon reflected a near perfect image of the celestial bodies twinkling above, and the cool night breeze as well as the quietly lapping sounds of seawater simply added to the tranquil aura of the scene. The fine, white sands that covered the stretch of beach glowed a pale ivory under the moonlight, lending an otherworldly air to the private island even as tall, sheltering palm trees bordered the upper edges of the seashore.
Nestled under one of the large boughs of the trees was Haru, curled on a generously spread blanket with what appeared like a plate of small tea cakes as well as drinks of some sort. She did not notice the silent arrival of her husband, having been facing away from him and too contentedly enjoying the beautiful scenery of the sea spread out before her to notice when he appeared on the sandy beach.
The butler noticed his master's arrival though, having been hovering a small distance away from the Princess Consort whom he had been faithfully keeping watch. Belphegor dismissed the middle-aged servant as well as the local staff with a sharp gesture of his head, and Mortigor quietly retreated with the other guards in tow. The blonde waited until all the others had returned to the manor before he approached his wife in a lazy prowl, mild irritation still flickering on his angular features, but even that small discontent was rapidly fading away now that she was in sight. Still, he was contemplating whether to give her a small scare in return for making him search for her up and down the island in the middle of the night when she, apparently having developed some sort of husband proximity sensor, turned her head around and spotted him first.
It was not difficult to see the soft contentment on her face when it was being displayed so guilelessly and without any subterfuge whatsoever, and when she saw him, her eyes lit up with quiet pleasure. He went to her instinctively, sinking down to a crouch beside her and swiftly abandoning his earlier intention to frighten some sense into her. He was still a bit annoyed though, but before he could open his mouth to berate her for causing him no small amount of inconvenience, she sidled up to his side and pounced, wrapping her arms around him.
He definitely did not expect her spontaneous act, his eyes widening imperceptibly as he promptly lost his balance and fell back in a sprawl on the blanket, his enthusiastic wife on top of him. His arms came up and held her close even as he grunted in surprise, and then she was showering him with sweet affection, peppering soft kisses on his neck and chin and mouth. In light of her apparently overjoyed response to the sight of him, his usually difficult to appease temper promptly died a quick, painless death. After all, it wasn't as if he could spare the time to yell at her when she was happily smothering him with kisses, and so he just lay there for a bit, feeling strangely content where he was, all the while wondering what the hell had just happened.
It was a question that he would revisit often in the span of his marriage to Haru, much to nobody's surprise but his own.
Eventually, her fervor for him seemed to abate some, though she was still nuzzling him with great affection and all but purring like a pleased little feline, completely reluctant to separate from him. It made him wonder why she even left their bedroom in the first place if she wanted to stay near him so badly.
"I didn't thank you for the wedding present just now," her muffled voice floated up to his ears then. The brunette raised her head to look at her husband, her eyes glowing with warmth and happiness. She raised her hand to gently part his long fringe just so that she could look at his eyes, and then she reached up and kissed his cheek innocently.
"I love it very, very much," she declared when she pulled back slightly to stare at him again, a soft smile playing on her face. "This place is so beautiful; thank you for giving it to me. I promise that I will never take it, or you, for granted."
She was being so serious and very sincere as she looked at him straight in the eyes and made her vow, and then she tightened her arms around his neck and leaned her forehead against his.
"I will try my best to be a good wife to you," she told him quietly, firmly determined to make their marriage work. "I love you, Bel."
Even though he had never said those three precious little words back to her, even though she wasn't sure if she would ever get to hear it from him at all, Haru was not the type to withhold her affections just because she wasn't getting what she wanted from her significant other. Besides, it never failed to fill her with a sense of happiness and fulfillment to verbally confirm her deep attachment to this man who was her husband—this was her soul mate, the one special person in the world whom she had found to give the gift of her heart to.
Her chest felt like it was about to burst open with the best sort of positive sentiments, and it was as if she was reaffirming her emotional bonds to him every time she told him that she loved him. She was such an affectionate creature by nature; she quickly found that she liked telling him she loved him, and not just because she never wanted him to forget her devotion, but also because it made her feel so very fortunate and lucky.
There were millions who went through life without ever meeting that rare someone whom they could wholeheartedly love, and she was so happy and blessed that the one whom she had found most certainly did not mind hoarding her love all to himself, even if he was quite reluctant to give her his heart in return. That had troubled her for a short while, but Haru had quickly worked the problem out herself. Simply put; being estranged from Belphegor had hurt her more than his refusal to share his feelings with her had, and that was how she knew that she had fallen irrevocably in love with him, that it didn't matter if he did or did not return her affections, she would still love him regardless.
Thankfully enough, his actions and demeanor towards her did not support the possibility of his callous disregard and lack of feelings where she was concerned. He was affectionate and attentive towards her in his own way, even though he tended to show it in unusual manners, and that gave her hope.
She had been doing a lot of thinking out here by the lagoon earlier when Belphegor was still asleep, and she had already thought everything through. One day, when he was finally good and ready to do so, Haru was sure that he would let her know what he thought of her. But until then, she knew that she could be content with what she had now—a permanent place by his side, sharing his bed, in his life. She was his partner for life now, his lover, his wife, and she would commit herself fully to make their relationship work.
The expression on her face was so solemn and determined that it was almost comical, but to Belphegor who had never had anyone who was so fervent and sweetly earnest for his sake, it was different. By all rights, he should have laughed her reaction off, but inexplicably, something within his chest tightened instead at her simple, selfless oath to him, something fierce and savage and possessive, for he knew that he did not deserve this woman.
By all rights and purpose, she was never meant for him. She moved in a different circle from his, one more idealistic and perfect, filled with chivalrous knights and gallant Bosses who would never hesitate to rescue and shield her from the evils of the world. Then, by an act of sheer coincidence she had stepped into his realm, into the murkier shadows of the Mafia that he ruled with his fellow Commanders. She shone like an out of place beacon to him then, and he had been attracted to her right from the start.
He had ended up tricking her into a physical relationship with him, stealing away her virginity regardless of her protests and taking an untold amount of liberties with her person. He bullied her blatantly when he could get away with it and although she never failed to fight back against his initially unwanted advances, her feistiness and never-say-die attitude only served to make him desire her even more. By all right and purposes, she should hate him for everything he had done to her. But yet, somehow, despite his constant harassment and taking advantage of her kinder nature, she grew to accept him wholeheartedly instead, violence, wild abrasiveness and all, gently embracing his rough, edgy demeanor, becoming so guilelessly affectionate towards him, and even falling in love with him.
He couldn't figure her out at all, just like he had no idea what he had done to deserve her loyalty and devotion. Perhaps she had made a mistake when it came to marrying him, but still, he greedily lapped up her love and attention, filled with the utterly selfish, pressing need to keep all her affection to himself. If he was a lesser man, he would have fervently thanked whichever god who looked out for lunatic assassin princes and was kind enough to allow him to stumble upon Haru, but he was not, and therefore he would settle on always having her safely by his side instead. Instincts told him that he would only ever meet one Haru in his lifetime, and if he wanted to continue basking in her love, then he would have to take special care of her. It was just as simple as that.
It was the bare truth that Belphegor did not feel that he was deserving of his wife, but he was definitely going to keep her all the same. He didn't think that he was ever going to get sick of hearing her declare her love for him, and anyone who tried to convince her otherwise was going to have to face the vindictive wrath of an angry, possessive husband.
As ridiculously sappy as it sounded, she belonged to him and nothing safe for his untimely demise would prompt him to release her from their bond.
An undecipherable expression flickered past his face, and then Belphegor snorted.
"Idiot," he muttered, but there was no heat whatsoever in his tone. If anything, he seemed more exasperated than anything else. "If I wasn't sure that you'd make me a suitable wife, I wouldn't have married you, convenient or not."
Haru just stared at him, unsure of his meaning. Then he rolled his eyes and waited for her to figure it out herself; his latest admission had made him distinctly uncomfortable and he had no intention whatsoever to make a habit out of making such revealing statements often. It was just as well that she easily understood what he was trying to say; her doe brown eyes softened, and then she leaned forward and dropped a small, sweetly affectionate kiss on his jaw. He relented and nuzzled her gruffly, and she leaned quite happily into his touch, quietly enjoying his ministrations.
Here, shrouded in complete privacy and safe from prying eyes, he could lower his guard and show her the affection that she craved. He was obviously quite new to this, but he was not particularly adverse to it as long as no one was around to bear witness to this gentler side of him. She hummed with contentment, at last laying her head on his shoulder, a small sigh of bliss escaping her smaller frame.
She was quite easy to please, he thought not for the first time as they both laid there on the blanket, just enjoying the quiet, comfortable surroundings as well as each other's company. This was definitely not how Belphegor envisioned his first honeymoon night to be, but he could not seem to bring himself to mind.
She really was making him soft, he thought absently even as he stroked her back lazily. She curled around him, stifling a small yawn, her eyes closing as she settled down for a nap. Most in her position would have been stiff with alarm at sharing such close proximity with him, but she only showed such trust and sleepy relaxation, and he knew that if he wasn't careful, she would really turn him into a doting husband, one she could easily lead around by the nose like a dull, plodding water buffalo.
And something, a sudden rush of premonition perhaps, told him that he would go willingly (or at least grudgingly so) wherever she led.
There and then, the alarmed blonde began to wonder if this was love.
::owari::
Questions That I Would Like To Answer Before You Ask:
First of all, please accept my apologies for the ultra late update. This tardiness will not be a frequent occurrence, I assure you, and I also promise that chapter updates will resume every fortnightly at least.
For those of you who are interested to know, the reason behind this late update was purely logistical. I have been on a vacation in Europe with my family for the past couple of weeks, and in the rush of packing for the lengthy trip, I had carelessly left behind my thumbdrive containing all the chapters at home instead of bringing it along with me as originally planned. Without the files, I was naturally unable to update 'Of Sparrows and Princes,' something that I'm rectifying immediately now that I'm finally back home again.
Once again, so sorry for the delay, ladies! Also, I have read and seen all of your nice, encouraging feedbacks and reviews, and as per usual, I will definitely try my best to live up to your expectations.
BelHaru FTW!
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To answer one of the reviewer's question in particular (actually, some of you have already asked this before but I have just never gotten around to giving a proper reply yet), I have every intention to write as much as I can for this lovely pairing for as long as my muse is accommodating (and right now, my muse is very accommodating, I assure you).
I have a vague plot in my head just how I would like this fic to progress, and it is a rather long termed plan, to be honest. I have even had the personalities and physical appearances of the BelHaru fanbabies thought out already; how they would interact with their parents and the people around them, their various experiences growing up in a Mafia Famiglia and surrounded by powerful assassins/Vongola Guardians, and also importantly, how Belphegor and Haru would take to raising their little family, and etc, so in theory, I can still take this fic pretty far; in fact, most probably much further than any one of you are willing to imagine.
On the other hand, I can also end this fic just when the royal offspring arrive, like a final loose end to tie up in the finale of happy endings for this lovely couple. How the plot unfolds all depends on whether if I still have the time and the energy to write in between my studies. It's not exactly an ironclad promise to the readers, but it's the most that I can do for now, so we will just see how it goes.
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And yes, he bought her an entire island in The Bahamas as a wedding gift—on a whim. For those who missed the memo in the fic itself, the island was actually part of a backup plan to kidnap Haru to it should she refuse Belphegor's marriage proposal again, though thankfully enough for everyone involved, she said yes before he could do anything too drastic, and so the island turned from a potential hideaway for nefarious purposes to wedding present instead.
Generously romantic gesture or grossly lavish expenditure, I will leave it up to you readers to decide. Still, do remember that Belphegor is not exactly accustomed to the role of doting husband just yet—at least not without going to extravagant extremes which he thinks are perfect measures to show off the extent of his willingness to indulge his bride. Clearly, he has much to learn still, but I thought I should just point out that our resident 'Prince of Varia' is not exactly the leading expert on human interaction, so do cut him some slack for attempting to overcompensate!
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Your reviews make me update faster; so please leave a comment if you like this fic!
-sllebswap