A/N: Content warning – child abuse in this chapter.

A friend is someone who

gives you total freedom to be

yourself.

– Jim Morrison

Chapter 1: The Knight and the Boy With the Dragon Tattoo

"Hurry up, Hiei!"

The words fled my mouth in a frosted stream as we ran through the royal orchards, dead grass cracking with each step. The sleeping apple trees did not stir when we passed, neither did the peach; the orange trees shuffled bare branches groggily above our heads, though otherwise remained silent.

Three days had come and gone since Hiei's arrival: three days filled with frigid weather, Latin lessons, and instruction on proper court etiquette. In all of these my friend remained a neutral participant, speaking only when addressed directly by our tutor in his seat next to mine. Hiei never complained of the hard-backed chairs nor the hours spent tirelessly copying various texts; his script was flawless, yet Kaito never praised him.

So, when our tutor fell ill, I decided we needed some fun.

"Your Highness–"

"Kurama." I corrected for the fifth time, tightening my grip on his wrist.

I felt more than saw him grimace, tension humming through his body even as he attempted to dig his heels into the hard earth. Traces of snow remained in random patches of grass, though the winter miracle had fled almost as soon as it arrived – father saw to that. "Kurama, we shouldn't be here. We're supposed to be–"

"We are studying." The nut trees now: pecan, almond, hazelnut . . . Almost there. "I'm going to show you something only father and I know about." I grinned over my shoulder, noting his wide, wide eyes. "It's a secret, but I'll share it with you."

As we neared the garden wall, his eyes widened further and his face blanched; all at once, he began struggling against my hold in earnest. "N-no! Kurama, we can't. Kaito said–"

"This is mine and father's secret." I was well aware that traversing father's private garden without permission was punishable by death, but surely that applied only to commoners. Father had taken me here many times, shared the hidden treasure of our kingdom . . . Surely I could show it to Hiei.

"But what if we're caught?"

The terror in his voice gave me pause. Hiei's hand trembled in mine even as he fought to still it, gnawing his lower lip with abandon. Pink scars on his bare throat and chin glared in the dim noon-light, remnants of a past I hoped one day to know.

More than anything, I wanted to banish his fear.

Donning a smile which never failed to please, I squeezed his hand as I led him to the rough stone wall. "It'll be okay. Don't worry, Hiei – I never get in trouble."

All at once, dappled sunlight assaulted my closed lids and the air warmed at an astonishing rate. Full leaves whispered overhead and the scent of freshly turned soil flooded my senses, chasing the icy illusion away. Honeysuckle, lilies and ivy came next: each stalk caressing my arms, my legs; bowed heads kissing the bare flesh of my hands and face; tender leaves weaving through stray strands of hair. The petals sang softly in my ears, sweet voices drawing me back to that day so long ago–

Too soon, my newfound serenity was shattered by a masculine screech. "What'd you say?!"

I sighed, begrudgingly allowing my eyes to open. The midday sun reigned high above any stray clouds straddling the sky, breaching through my resting place to paint speckled patterns of pecan leaves across my body. Three menservants waited several feet away, each holding a different cloak, though their attention remained focused elsewhere as I rose from the flower bed.

Once again, a familiar braying reached my ears. "Say that again, I dare you!"

Another voice sounded, as customary to this garden as my own. "Are you deaf as well as incompetent?"

Two men stood in the clearing normally reserved for parties and summer dances, glaring at one another across a space of nearly ten feet. Kazuma Kuwabara, lord of the Kuwabara house, shook with barely bridled anger, each tremor rattling the links of his chain-mail shirt. At fifteen summers, Kuwabara was considered a man by human standards whereas my people viewed him as nothing more than a child. When the former lord and lady Kuwabara passed seven years ago, a nameless uncle maintained the estate until Kuwabara came 'of age' at thirteen. Father then recognized him as the rightful heir to what remained of his father's wealth – the Kuwabaras never possessed much – and now he frequently dwelt in court at my request. Many disapproved of my choice, urging instead for companions from more noble houses – usually their own – but I remained steadfast: regardless of his estate's income, Kuwabara carried out his duties as a knight just as his father and grandfather before him, and that was good enough for me.

Hiei's annoyance permeated the clearing, though his ire remained minuscule next to Kuwabara's. Thus far, time remained kind to my childhood companion – what Hiei's body lacked in height was sufficiently atoned for by muscle mass. Though I rose a full head and a half higher than he, Hiei's profile boasted girth which his tanned skin seemed scarcely able to contain, a rarity in a society which prided itself in slim bodies and pale flesh among both men and women. A leather cuirass adorned his torso, accentuating bare arms crossed irritably across his chest. Three silver-trimmed belts cinched black woolen pants to his waist, the garment fastened at the ankles with leather thongs. A practice sword hanging from either hip, Hiei spread his bare feet into a ready stance even as he watched Kuwabara, toes hugging the lush grass.

When the taller man replied with only incoherent squawks, he snorted. "Useless."

Hiei glanced over his shoulder as I walked through the chattering lilies, ruby eyes long dulled currant with boredom. "Kurama, I don't know why you insist on training this fool – a woman would fare better in battle."

"Hey!" Kuwabara growled, closing the space between them with four easy strides. Hiei maintained his apathetic air even as the taller man breached his personal space, towering at least two heads over him. "My sister is way stronger than you – Shizuru could beat you to a pulp any day and she wouldn't even need a sword!"

Hiei raised a dark brow, though otherwise his disinterested demeanor remained. "You've just proven my point." When it became apparent that frustration effectively tied Kuwabara's tongue the shorter man turned, shaking his head as he walked back under the orchard's canopy. "Idiot."

Only then did Kuwabara find his voice. "Hey! Say that to my face!" When Hiei's steps did not slow, the young knight smirked. "Oh, that's right, you can't because you're so short!"

I sighed as he threw more colorful – albeit poorly aimed – barbs, all of which went ignored. Finally, I raised a placating hand. "All right now, that's enough."

Immediately, shallow-set black eyes fell to meet my gaze, struggling between watching his retreating opponent and his liege. "B-but he said–"

"He's only trying to help you, Kuwabara." A smile pulled at my lips even as doubt clouded his irises. "Trust me, Hiei would not have agreed to these sessions if he did not think they were worth his time and effort, regardless of whether I requested his assistance or not."

Running thick-gloved fingers through pumpkin hair done in the French style, he sighed, looking forlornly at his discarded wooden sword. "Then why can't I beat him? We've been at this for months and I can't land a single hit on him!"

My smile widened as we turned to retrieve his fallen weapon, smock hem catching in the breeze. "You must remember we are both older than you, my friend – Hiei was well accomplished in swordsmanship before you were even born."

Kuwabara uttered a halfhearted response, though I could not hear his words over the chattering of the lilies. The elegant flowers parted easily for Hiei, long stems arching away from silent feet until he stopped before the servants. He exchanged the oaken weapons for his cloak without a word, fastening the garment's metal clasp before reaching once again for his silver-trimmed swords – a gift from father long ago. As he slid the scabbards into leather loops at either hip the wind caught his cloak, whipping the black cotton behind both shoulders for the briefest of moments. Frayed sunlight played against his right forearm, pressing soft lips to the dark mark curling from bulging bicep to gnarled knuckles:

A dragon with gaping mouth and hungry eyes.

"Lord Kurama, what possessed you to do such a thing?"

Thunder clapped, offering nature's ascent to their questions as the library grew dim. Shelves boasting various manuscripts and leather-bound volumes loomed high overhead, lumbering giants turned sinister by the coming storm. Candles without number outlined each face present, noblemen who served father diligently–

Men who normally returned my smiles.

I fought not to look at the ruined fruit at my feet, at the blood-red juices staining the plush rug.

A creaking of wood and lightning struck in the distance, followed by soft, insistent rain tapping against the windowpanes. I wanted to look at Asato – to apologize and ask him to play with the shadows – but my lips would not move: the memory of his and Yana's cries when they found us well above the palace walls, safe within the Diviega's ancient branches; the abject terror etched across both knights' faces as they beheld our arms laden with ruby fruit; the foreign fury rising in both men at our red-rimmed mouths and the forgotten cores lying at the base of the tree, dying the cracked grass crimson. Our trek out of the garden remained a blur but once we cleared the stone walls, strong hands awaited there, each ushering us into the castle.

Above all, I remembered Hiei's fear.

My new companion stood behind me now, pressed resolutely against the ashen wall; I would not allow him to kneel. Hiei's eyes remained inexplicably wide as he watched the men, far wider than our first meeting. Each breath caught in his narrow chest, evidenced by rippling lavender silk across his torso, though he refused to make a sound. Small hands poised like pale spiders on the aged wood; thin lips stained with fruit juice; every muscle tense, either anticipating a blow or preparing to run. His gaze never left the men spanned before us in a semi-circle though his chin visibly trembled, face blanched a lighter hue than the handkerchief encasing his forehead. I did not understand his terror; I did not understand their anger–

I did not understand anything.

Asato sighed at my silence, rustic jerkin creasing as he glanced to his neighbor. "What should we do?"

Yana's frown deepened as he tucked a blue-gray lock behind a pointed ear, soulful gaze traveling first from myself then to Hiei. "There's only one thing we can do."

Strangling vines stretched from my stomach to ensnare my lungs as I watched the five of them step forward. The gravity of his words, the determined coldness seeping into their eyes – these were not the men I knew. "What are you doing?"

A rustling at my back – Hiei's hem catching the rough-hewn wall – and they sprang as one. Yana and Asato pulled me away before I could so much as gasp while the other three laid hands on Hiei, dragging him towards the center of the room. Within seconds, they bent my frozen companion over the library's crowning glory: a grand oak table, carved from a tree older than even the Diviega.

"What are you doing?! Stop!" I cried, slipping from Yana's grasp only to find my body cemented in place as Asato uttered an all-too familiar word and stepped on my shadow. Try as I might, my body refused to obey – I could not move."I command you to stop!"

"I'm sorry your majesty, but this is for your own good." Kaito offered gently, sparing a pitying glance as Suzaku pulled Hiei's belt loose and tugged at his cerulean breeches.

The peal of a strangled growl was the only warning they received.

Suzaku grunted as Hiei lashed out with surprising speed, landing a solid hit below the knight's waist with the ball of his foot. Kaito glanced back too late to avoid the punch aimed at his jaw and he too fell, monocle flying across the room. Momentarily free of restraining hands, Hiei sprang into a crouch where he rested on all fours atop the table, breath ragged, pupils shrunken to needlepoints. Fangs protruded where incisors had once been, breaching red-dyed lips as he growled again. Feral eyes ravenously searched each face: the two men on the floor; the gentleman who wisely kept his distance; Asato's grimace at maintaining his spell; Yana's trepidation as he reached for the sword at his hip, until finally the swirling crimson gems found me.

Even if Asato allowed it, I don't know if I could have moved in that moment. Hiei regarded my clenched fists, legs frozen in mid-flight, lips parted in something akin to wonder before settling on my eyes.

I do not know what he saw there and blamed myself for many years afterwards for what happened next.

Another clap of thunder and Hiei sprang, green sleeves straining as he reached for me. I opened my mouth wide to admonish him but Yana was faster, driving an elbow into Hiei's temple and sending him sprawling to the ground. "No." I whispered as Suzaku and Kaito descended upon him and he screamed, downy voice sharp as shattered glass. "Stop it!"

"Little brat." Suzaku spat, tightening his hold on Hiei's hair and reaching once again for the loose cerulean folds at his waist. Kaito grunted as he secured twin holds on Hiei's arms, eyes widening at the strength in that little body as he bucked beneath them. A tearing of fabric and I saw Hiei's pupils retract further still, irises glazing aged cordial as he reared back one final time.

Suzaku's fingers slipped through fine raven hair and Hiei's head connected with Kaito's jaw, causing my tutor to lose his grip. Small body twisting, he fought the two with everything he had, heedless of my cries and their bitter curses. Finally, Suzaku lifted his hand from Hiei's waist in an attempt to subdue him, elegant fingers fighting for a fresh hold on his head.

Without warning, Hiei opened his mouth and bit off the nobleman's thumb.

Suzaku screamed and reared back, pressing the bleeding nub to his chest. For once, Kaito remained at a loss for words and could only stare at Hiei, who ceased struggling the moment hot blood filled his mouth. With the dignity of a cat coughing up its own fur, he spat Suzaku's thumb onto the floor, watching it roll beside the Diviega fruit with morbid fascination. After what felt like an eternity but in reality could only have been seconds, the strange light fled his eyes and beloved ruby returned, followed closely by realization and horror as he raised his head.

Lightning flashed and Suzaku set on him with a thunderous roar, heedless of Kaito's protests as he struck Hiei repeatedly across his face and head, knees cementing those thin shoulders in place. Hiei did not fight back, did not so much as utter a cry. Only when the gladiolas in the corner cried out and gooseflesh settled at my nape did I sense a change in the air, see the vacancy filling his eyes–

Feel the temperature in the room rising rapidly.

Suddenly Yana appeared before me, blocking my view of Hiei's punishment. "Get the prince out of here, now!" He commanded, startling me out of my reverie.

"No." I whispered as Asato wrapped a sure arm around my waist, lifting me to his side effortlessly. My hands rose to his bicep and I realized with no small relief that his spell was broken. "No! Hiei!" The room passed in a blur highlighted by red eyes and we were in the corridor, dark wood spanning behind and before us as Asato fled. "Hiei!"

My companion did not answer, though a booming far louder than any of the preceding thunderclaps shook the wing, vibrating every plank of wood from the floor to the rafters.

The following day, I happened by the library only to find the room in disarray and Gandara's finest carpenters repairing a breached wall, a wall they claimed was ruined when a large willow fell during the storm. I did not question it at the time, yet could not help but wonder at where such a thing came from:

No trees resided anywhere near the library.

"–your Highness? Hey, uh, your Highness?"

Rough sandstone at one ear brought me out of my reverie. Hiei was nowhere in sight, though I knew he remained somewhere in the orchard because the flowers continued to dance. Kuwabara stood obediently a pace or so at my back, meaty fingers wrapped around the retrieved practice sword. The polished ash complimented his honey skin – fruit of hours spent toiling in fields alongside his servants – knuckles enlarged both by countless calluses and multiple breaks over the years. Everything about Kuwabara boasted a connection with the land few could hope to possess: a hardiness often associated with undue pride; a humble spirit linked inexplicably with stupidity; an abject desire for reformation too often counted as greed. What the young man lacked in experience he more than made up for in character, which I believed to be far more important than material wealth.

Kuwabara shifted under my gaze, grip on his faux weapon tightening further. "I-is everything all right, your Highness?"

I sighed, forcing a smile and turning to face him. "Kuwabara, how long have we known one another?"

"Huh? Uh," He paused, tipping his head back while performing quick calculations with his free hand. "About five years, I guess?"

My lips relaxed into a more genuine curve at his uncertainty and I crossed my arms, banishing all tension with a single tip of my head. "And in that time, what is the only request I have made of you?"

His brow furrowed as he consciously traveled back in time, a trip which only took a matter of seconds before realization hit. Pumpkin brows raised, he bit his lower lip before answering. "To only call you by your Christian name in private."

"Correct." Conscious of three sets of prying eyes at my back, I refrained from touching the downcast man, though a shallow clearing of my throat encouraged Kuwabara to raise his head. A true smile awaited him there, one reserved for a privileged few. "Do not worry, my Kuwabara." I encouraged softly, too low for unwanted ears to hear. "I abhor the pomp and proceedings which belie my rank. Ideally, I would that everyone were at ease around me in private – if not everywhere else – but such a wish is not feasible. So please," I pressed on in spite of his obvious discomfort, motioning to the trees around us. "In this place, as well as anywhere else where privacy is afforded, I would be called Kurama."

He listened intently without interruption, taking his inner cheek between strong jaws. When I finished, Kuwabara's gaze roamed from my face to Hiei's last known location, to the lilies still swaying happily at his proximity. "Shorty doesn't have a problem calling you Kurama." He mused, chewing the hidden flesh, mail shirt and gauntlets creaking in protest as he shifted his weight. When those onyx eyes found me again uncertainty had long since fled, replaced by curiosity and the beginnings of confidence. "How long has that been going on?"

Calm understanding quickly overtook my surprise. Of course – before today, Kuwabara and Hiei had never shared my company in private. The two frequently ran across one another in court, where the latter remained civil if not polite, never uttering a harsh word and more often than not taking up some isolated corner, content with playing the quiet observer. Kuwabara did not yet know the true nature of my childhood companion, the real Hiei which for years remained reserved for my eyes only.

Reaching for the nearest tree, I answered the desperate cry of an ivy vine, allowing the tender leaves to nuzzle my fingers. Under normal circumstances I could answer such a question without guilt or shame, yet with the memory of Hiei's screams still fresh, the words came slowly, little more than a whisper on my lips. "Hiei has called me Kurama since my sixth summer."

"That long, huh?" The soft rumble drew my eyes away from the fawning plant. Kuwabara's gaze remained fixed on a cluster of dandelion blooms, jaws rolling behind closed lips. Though he did his best to hide his rising anxiety, his body betrayed him, just as it always did: Shoulder fixed awkwardly somewhere between tense and relaxed, white-knuckled fists trembling at his side, thin-skinned boots betraying the curling of his toes. A good-hearted man fully aware of his limitations, so eager to please yet always fearful of falling short; this was Kazuma Kuwabara, the fledgling I'd taken under my wing, the first noble to ever see past my false gaiety–

The only one aside from Hiei who accepted my true self.

My hand moved of its own accord to grip Kuwabara's shoulder, surprising us both. I answered his bewildered look with a smile, uncaring of who witnessed the spectacle. "Give it time, Kuwabara – Hiei has had years to grow comfortable in my company. Feel free speak your mind with either of us, we will not judge or think less of you for your private thoughts."

He wrinkled his nose, no doubt recalling the encounter with Hiei moments ago. "I'm not so sure about that . . ."

A chuckle rose unbidden on my tongue and I patted his shoulder. "You will soon learn that brevity comes as naturally to Hiei as breathing. As I told you before," I lowered my arms and turned, motioning Kuwabara to follow. "If he truly did not care for you, Hiei would never have agreed to help you improve your swordsmanship."

An incoherent mumble and he fell into step behind me, grass massaging our ankles as we made our way back to the waiting servants. "I just want to do well, you know? This could be what my family's been waiting for for years."

I afforded him a backwards glance as the canopy enveloped us in its warm embrace. During the last great war with Ysbryd, Kuwabara's grandfather fought in father's army, though his contributions to Gandara's victory were seldom mentioned: in the final battle, King Enma's soldiers broke through the royal guard and a fortunate swordsman managed to kill father's horse, stealing his sight in the process. Father's soldiers believed him dead and fled, much like deer before snapping hounds. Only Kuwabara's ancestor – a human farmer – remained to defend his king and together they fought off a whole battalion until help arrived. Father rewarded the peasant with knighthood and a seat at the royal table for he and his descendants, a constant reminder to the high-minded elves of their betrayal during the Battle of Diwedd.

Thus, Kuwabara remained determined to bring honor to his family, a glory his peers would accept.

With a nod, I allowed a dark-haired servant to fasten the cloak at my throat, velvet the shade of pine needles bordered with pale fur. Kuwabara accepted his own cloak and sword with a quick 'thank you', though the servant did not answer in kind. Even as he withdrew his emotions and donned the earthen garment, I knew a rough road lay ahead of the young lord if he truly desired the respect of my people.

We walked in companionable silence for several paces, winding a lazy path through the heavy-laden orchard. Ripened cherries and plump peaches hung from nearly every branch, bathing the air in a sweet aroma even a blind bee could follow. Each tree rustled without aid from the wind, offering their wares as we passed. I acknowledged their gifts and patted the odd trunk but shook my head, encouraging them to keep their treasures with a soft word. The orchard grew still after that yet I felt the trees smile, bark thrumming with barely contained mirth.

All of this Kuwabara watched in silence until finally he shook his head, daring to fall into step by my side. "I still don't see how you can do that."

Lifting a hand from rustling peach bark, I glanced at him, uncaring of the three men behind us. "Do what?"

"Talk to the trees. I mean, they talk to me a lot but I can't understand what they're saying."

That admission stilled my step and I turned to stare at my burly companion, giving him my full attention. "You can hear the plants' song?"

"Well, yeah." A blush dusted his cheeks and he stopped as well, rubbing his neck with a self-conscious hand. "I've listened to the flowers in sis's garden since I was a kid. Just–" His eyes found the grass once more, shame darkening the tips of his ears. "I can't understand them."

The last came out as little more than a mumble, yet the soft words filled me with joy. "That's wonderful news, Kuwabara."

Instantly, his eyes found mine once again, though I could not tell whether the statement or my smile surprised him more. "H-how is not understanding good?"

"You can hear the plants, Kuwabara – only about a quarter of Gandara's people can make such a claim. So long as you can hear them, you can be made to understand; all that is needed is the proper training."

I cherished watching tender hope bloom in his eyes, banishing all uncertainty and knowledge of his short-comings, if only for a moment. Over the span of several centuries, the people of Gandara worked to form a unique bond with the fauna encompassing much of the country, a relationship passed down from generation to generation: to those whom could hear nature's song, the plants promised their aid and cooperation; in return, the hearers promised their respect and to share their energy with them, which the fauna claimed tasted far sweeter than sunlight. Both father and I could hear the plant's song and call upon them at will, an accomplishment few in court could boast.

Kuwabara's mouth fell open and it took him two attempts to close it, swallowing hard before questioning, "Do . . . Do you mean that?"

I nodded, head dipping into a short bow. "I will see to it personally."

No words can accurately describe his gratitude. After a few failed attempts, Kuwabara managed to thank me, going so far as to kneel on the hard earth and press his forehead against a metal-clad knee. He remained in that position for several moments before finally acquiescing to my protests and making his way back to his feet, face beaming all the while.

Not for the first time, I noticed the servants grimace at our proximity, yet chose to ignore their disapproving looks. No friendly contact with another noble could be considered meet for punishment, no matter how lowly the noble in question appeared in the eyes of the court.

Besides, with father here to greet our coming guest, I knew Hiei would be safe.

"Hey, Kurama?"

The uncertainty in his voice slowed my step, yet we did not stop again. Doubtless, every servant in father's house would know of today's events by sunset – I did not wish to add another spectacle to the list.

Taking the pause for what it was, Kuwabara continued. "Who'd you say is visiting today? If his Majesty is going to all this trouble for one guy, he must be really important, right?"

An affirmative hum and I nodded, keeping my gaze fixed on the end of my domain – the edge of the orchard. "Lord Yusuke is the crown prince of Tourin, our northernmost neighbor. He and I are distant cousins, though we have not seen each other in quite some time."

I saw Kuwabara nod from the corner of my eye, understanding lighting his ruddy face. "How long has it been, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Twenty years, I suppose." The figure rolled readily off my tongue, insensitive to my friend's glaring humanity. At Kuwabara's shock, I quickly added, "I am sure you two will get along well – Yusuke actually reminds me of you a good bit, Kuwabara."

"R-really? You mean it?"

I nodded as the Diviega – the orchard's treasure – came into view. The Diviega's trunk stretched high above the stone gate seperating the behemoth from its companions, proud arms raised ever-skyward. Hiei waited there: back pressed against the outermost stone wall, head turned towards the lawn surrounding the castle, granting us the illusion of privacy. Even though he did his best to ignore them, his brow twitched involuntarily at the high-pitched attentions of the daffodils surrounding him, feet carefully crossed at the ankles to avoid crushing the yellow flowers.

Kuwabara looked as if he wished to say something about the daffodils doting over the tempermental man, yet he kept his peace. Even as my eyes traveled once again to the tattoo marring Hiei's right arm, I could not help but think that perhaps Yusuke's visit was of divine ordinance and would benefit both my country and those I held dear.

Only time would tell.

A/N: Hello everyone! Thank you so much for your reviews and the follows/favoriting of this story! Sorry this update took so long: life happened and I've been doing additional research of this time period, as well as getting to know the Kurama of this world better.

This story will be told partly in the present and partly in the past through dreams/flashbacks. Although I do not plan for each chapter to contain a look at the past, I know the next one definitely will. So, if jumping between Kurama's past and present was a bit disorienting, don't worry – it's supposed to be. Also, the importance of plants and their song will be delved into soon, so no worries if that was confusing too.

More familiar faces and other goodies await in the next chapter. Please let me know what you think of the story so far: creating a literary world is challenging yet loads of fun and any feedback is appreciated. :)