Yuuri explained that many princes tried to solve the mystery regarding the princesses and their dancing shoes, but all failed and were beheaded. Viktor clutched his blanket when he heard this, curious eyes watching Yuuri's own eyes glide over the page.

A man entered the story; a soldier who had been crippled in a nameless war. He got advice from a kind old woman not to drink the wine that the princesses would offer him. She then gifted him a cloak, which would render him invisible when he donned it so that he could follow the princesses.

Viktor listened carefully as Yuuri detailed how the man followed the instructions that the elderly lady had given him, and did not partake of the wine. The veteran then pretended to fall asleep. 'The princesses have no clue that the man did not drink the sleeping potion,' Viktor thought to himself, slightly amused.

The princesses did not seem like very good people, dancing their shoes to tatters at the expense of the lives of the men trying to uncover their secret. Even if they were being kept under lock and key at night, it didn't excuse their flippant attitudes towards all of those princes being killed. Suddenly the illustration of the dancing maidens seemed a lot more ominous.

The man in the story discovered that the princesses had a hidden passageway that opened up when they knocked on one of the beds. Viktor wondered how the tunnel got there in the first place, and how the sisters figured out how it was there at all.

Viktor imagined if his own bed had a secret passage that opened up when he rapped his knuckles on it. Where would it even lead to? A beautiful place where he could dance freely, like Yuuri was telling of? He already had that right where he was at. Besides, he didn't want to sneak out and meet strange princes. The only person he wanted to dance with was…

Viktor blinked up at Yuuri, from where he was leaning his head on his strong shoulder, with a feeling of contentedness blossoming in his chest. His drowsiness-addled brain was probably imagining things, but- Yuuri looked soft and glowing in the flickering amber light. Viktor felt more tranquil and calm than he had earlier. The tea, the warmth, and Yuuri's proximity and voice had quelled some of his anxiety for now. He knew that Yuuri would help him find Christophe. He was so caring and gentle.

Viktor yawned, tiredness washing over him. It had been a long day. He realized, absentmindedly, that he'd never braided his hair. It would be a tangled mess in the morning, no doubt. But maybe Yuuri would tend to his hair again. He'd enjoyed that immensely. Viktor rested his head on Yuuri's lap, too tired to argue with his instincts. He barely registered how Yuuri's voice caught for a second when he did this, and didn't think much on it.

Viktor rubbed his eyes and yawned again as Yuuri continued the story. The soldier was presenting before the king the evidence he'd gathered as to where the princesses were going every night. He bore three branches made of precious metal and gems that he'd collected from the other land, as well as a goblet he'd taken. The king believed his story, and the man chose to wed the oldest princess, even though they'd never really even met before.

Viktor found it fascinating, in his groggy state of mind, that both human and fairy stories usually concluded with the union of the protagonist to an attractive spouse.

"The End," Yuuri finished, and closed the book carefully before setting it aside. He appeared that he was thinking, and was chewing on his lip. "Viktor…"

"Yes?" Viktor mumbled through his sleepiness.

"How would you feel about me teaching you how to read?" Yuuri asked. Happy tears threatened to escape Viktor's eyes.

"I would love that," he whispered softly. Viktor's eyelids kept dropping, heavy and unobedient. The last thing that he saw before he drifted off into sleep was Yuuri's lovely visage and tender smile.

Without the distraction of reading, Yuuri's full attention was drawn to the fact that Viktor was sleeping with his head over his thighs. Yuuri blushed, heart aflutter. Viktor looked so peaceful in his sleep, which brought great relief to Yuuri. He'd been so worried about the fairy, finding out that his friend was who-knows-where like that. He was glad that his efforts at comfort had helped, even just a little.

Yuuri watched Viktor's chest rise and fall as he breathed deep and steady. His slender hands were curled on Yuuri's lap. Locks of argent hair dropped off the side of the couch and blanketed Viktor's body. A surge of protectiveness rose in Yuuri's chest as he watched over his fairy. Viktor deserved the world and the heaven, the moon and stars winking down and encircling him in their shimmering arms.

Yuuri softly ran a hand over Viktor's head, thinking back on all of the events that had transpired that day. It seemed like ages ago that he'd brushed Viktor's hair. And now… He glanced down at Viktor's stump of a finger, still healing over. Now he knew the truth. He still felt guilt and believed that it was his fault. His eyes were still sore from sobbing, and he had a pressing headache.

"I'm sorry," he said, almost inaudible. Tears blurred his vision. He felt so terrible for inadvertently causing Viktor to be hurt, but also felt bad for the fact that he still felt so at fault in the first place. He knew that Viktor wouldn't want him to blame himself. Ever so tenderly, Yuuri lifted Viktor's head and then maneuvered out from under him. Carefully, he took Viktor up into his arms. His arms were dangling and his wings were limp.

Yuuri made sure that he was secure in his arms, then slowly crossed the room the the bed. He laid Viktor down on his front and then tucked him in. Viktor moved to snuggle in the blankets and get settled, and Yuuri jumped a bit.

Heart beating quickly, Yuuri looked at Viktor's lips. They appeared pink and soft as peonies. He pushed away the whim of what he'd like to do to them that popped into his head.

Yuuri swiftly went and turned off the stream of gas burning in the lamp. He picked up the tray, and shot one last lingering look at Viktor before he left the room.