CHAPTER 6: Awakening

Yuuri was in absolute bliss; For the first time in weeks, his throat didn't feel dry. Hell, even his ribs didn't hurt as much. Everything around him was soft and fluffy. He was surrounded by a comfortable warmth, as he bathed in a summery glow. He hadn't felt so rested in days, and had absolutely no intention of ever leaving this beatific paradise. His body felt strangely relaxed, his stomach didn't feel so empty, and his legs didn't ache as much. He would let himself float in the delicious numbness for an eternity if it meant he would always feel like this. For once, Yuuri was truly at peace. That is, until his mind snapped him out of it.

The boy sat up promptly and opened his eyes. He looked around him in panic, confused as to where he was. He didn't see any of his warders nearby, and he didn't recognize the luxurious, blue and cream colored room he was in. Maybe he was still asleep and dreaming. Or maybe the army had conquered a new place on the way, as they always did, and had set him there for the night. This seemed was very unlikely, considering he had always slept in the cold basements with the infantry so far. Or maybe... Maybe they had broken their promise of not touching him. Maybe he had spent the night with one of the generals, who hadn't cared enough to send him back to the footmen after they got their pleasure.

That thought filled him with adrenaline and sent his pulse racing, waking him up completely. He didn't remember anything of what happened the night before. Maybe he had been drugged, or perhaps hit on the head. He removed the cover hastily and frantically searched his body for any signs of violation. But instead of finding love marks and semen all over him, he saw he was nicely bandaged and somewhat cleaner than usual. He didn't understand. The boy looked around some more. To his great confusion, there was no other clothing than his own on the floor, and he was clearly alone in bed. Wait, he didn't remember owning that bathrobe...

"Oh."

Suddenly, all the memories of the previous day came rushing back to his mind. The audience room, Prince Viktor, Mila, the oatmeal... Yuuri let out a profoundly relieved sigh, and flopped back on the cushions. "It's okay. Everything's okay." He hadn't been touched. Not yet, at least. As his heart slowly went back to a normal rhythm, he reflected on yesterday's events. He remembered crawling over the cushions and wrapping himself in the robe that had been left on the floor. He had reached for the water on the table and had drunk it straight from the pitcher. Then, he had settled back in his little nest, and had waited for his master to come back. He recalled standing still for quite a while before Viktor reappeared, knocking again before coming in. The prince had brought back two different bowls of oatmeal; one made with milk and the other with water. He had even thrown some strange berries on top and added some sugar, but he had apologized profusely for not putting any more toppings as he was afraid Yuuri's stomach wouldn't be able to take it. Viktor had handed the food to the boy, and grabbed the pitcher to fill it again. Lastly, he had made it clear that Yuuri was free to use the bathroom and settle into bed when he was ready, before making his way to his own bedroom. Just before closing the door, he had turned back to the boy, pausing.

"You... You can lock the door from your side, if you want. I won't be able to open it. But please... don't hesitate to come and get me if anything's wrong." Then, the prince had disappeared in his room for the night.

Yuuri sighed. He had indeed locked the door before going to sleep, but not without any internal debate. He believed he might be able to trust the man but... could he really? He had been placed in the royal suites, right beside the prince's bedroom. Only very close friends and family ever slept there. What were Viktor's true intentions behind this decision? Was it really for his comfort and protection? Or perhaps he was trying to coax Yuuri into believing that he was safe, when in reality he could be killed at a snap of a finger. Or maybe this was just how he treated his slaves, with all the honors and the pampering until it was time for them to begin the real work. He just... he didn't know. Yuuri wasn't sure enough of what the situation was to let himself be vulnerable. So he had locked the door.

The slave let himself fall back into the sheets as he analyzed his situation. In the last twenty-four hours, so much of his life had changed that he wasn't sure anymore what was real and what wasn't. Where was the threat, and where was the hope. He didn't know yet if it would be for best or for worse, but being there, in this suite, all rested and patched up... It definitely felt like an improvement. It could hardly get worse than being thrown around here and there by men who saw him as a piece of meat and groped him when commanding eyes were looking away. In the past weeks he had walked so much, and so far away from home. Home... it felt like he had left decades ago. The smell of the palace's kitchens, the comfort of his room, the hugs from friends, the teasing from his sister, the smiles of his parents... It all felt so, so far away. Yuuri knew the tears were coming before they even filled his eyes.

He rolled on his side and brought his knees to his chest. He missed his family so much... All he could do, when he walked and walked and walked, was think about them. And now that he finally settled, he felt like they had just gone even further. There was no hope of seeing them join him on the road, hiding in the castles the army conquered, or jumping out of some bushes to rescue him, as he had often fantasized. Now, there was definitely no way he would see their faces appear, as slim as the chances of such an encounter had been before. He felt so alone, thrown out there in this world he knew nothing of, where everything was different and empty and hurtful.

From the second he was thrown on the road, Yuuri had been less than himself, less than human. He already knew he was a pretty dull person, at least certainly not someone a prince would find interest in, but it didn't stop it from hurting to be treated like rubbish. Wandering hands grabbing him, slapping him, hitting him... Raspy voices whispering in his ear how much of a waste of space he was, how disgusting he could be... Grotesque tongues saying how lucky he was the generals had ordered them not to touch him, because it would have been nice to see him cry and scream as they had their way with him. Telling him that was all he was good for, anyway. Those same hands pushing him again and again to the ground, making sure his ties would cut his skin with how tight they were. Someone holding his jaw open as an other spit in his mouth; 'you're lucky you're not getting my cum, you whore...' Those hands that brought him his meal only gave him half and then ate the rest, because 'a bitch doesn't deserve that food, it's not doing anything anyway, it's just being carried around all day.' Sometimes, when he closed his eyes, he could still feel them on him. No matter how hard he wiped and scratched his skin, the memory of their hands just wouldn't go away, he could still feel them. Their feet, too. They would push him, kick him out of the way, stomp him until he stopped begging for the water he wasn't given that morning. His ribs reminded him of those feet with every move he made.

Yuuri was shuddering, trying to keep his sobs quiet as warm tears were dampening his cheeks. He felt so small, curled up on himself like that in the large bed. How angry he was at himself for being so miserable. How furious he was for letting them do anything and everything, just for a bit of stale bread. He remembered how one of the men once grabbed him, drunk out of his mind, and took his putrid cock out just to shove it in Yuuri's face. The boy had kept his lips tightly shut and crawled away from the soldier, only to have the brute slap him for it. He had been put in a corner, as always, and he couldn't go very far. The fiend had gripped the smaller male's jaw tight, holding his dick and pushing it against the sealed mouth, covering it in sticky, bitter precum. 'C-Come on, bitch... Just this once. Nobody will know, I swear... I know you want it, you f-f-fucking slut... Look, I'll give you m-my ration of the day, i-if you let me fuck your pretty mouth, okay? Come on, open up...'The promise of food had Yuuri's resolve faltering. What if... what if he could get a full ration for once... Maybe... maybe this was worth it? He already hated himself for what he was about to do, but he just couldn't take it anymore. He had been about to surrender, to let himself become what they had so often told him he was, when a superior had walked by and seen them. Yuuri wasn't sure how the soldier had been able to walk straight again, with how hard his head hit the stone wall behind him. The orders were clear; no one touches the boy. And as usual, Yuuri didn't get his full ration the next day.

Yuuri was now bawling, afraid he might wake up his master with the sound of his sobs. He really had become trash, hadn't he? Willing to be used as a hole to fill just so he could eat a bit more. Tears fell freely on the pillows and sheets near Yuuri's face. He was so enraged at himself that he almost hadn't been able to hold on, to fight back, or to do anything to prove he was worth more than this. Instead, he just took it, he had been so close to welcoming it that he wasn't sure he could ever look at himself in the mirror and ever feel proud again.

A sound in the other room interrupted his cries. Yuuri clasped a hand on his mouth and listened. They were soft knocks on the door leading to the prince's room, followed by a hesitant voice.

"...Yuuri? Are you awake?"

The boy didn't answer, desperately trying to calm down the sobs, his head now pounding with the effort.

A beat.

"Breakfast is ready, if ever you feel hungry. Please take your time, and don't hesitate to use the bathroom if you want to." He heard muffled footsteps walking away. Yuuri wasn't sure if he had woken up the prince with his weeping, or if he had just already been up. He surely didn't feel like getting up now, but he also didn't want to risk displeasing the man by ignoring him. The boy inhaled deeply a few times, and wiped his eyes. Slowly but surely, the tears stopped falling and his head stopped pounding. He managed to sit up again and looked at the bathrobe on the floor, concerned with not having anything more appropriate to wear. But since he was absolutely not putting the veils back on, this would have to do. The slave shuffled to the side of the mattress and cautiously got up, pain shooting through his ribs at the movement. He gripped a bed post and stayed still, gritting his teeth as he waited for the ache to pass. He realized the pain killers Mila had given him had worn off by now. After a few minutes of breathing and small, tentative movements, he managed to grab the robe on the floor and throw it over his shoulders. With a few curses, he tied the belt and slowly put one foot in front of the other, making his way to the bathroom. He entered the luminous room, which was at least as big as a quarter of the size of his bedchamber. Inside, Yuuri found a large mirror on the cream colored wall on his right, along with a white marble dressing table. Next to him on his left against the inside wall was a toilet and a sink made of the same material, accented with golden handles. In front of him sat a large bathtub, twice as any he'd ever seen, with a large step carved into the ceramic on one side. The whole room was illuminated by a large window covering the entirety of the last wall on the left. Velvet curtains hang on each side, the same deep-blue shade as the bed covers. On the dressing table, the dark-haired boy found a small bottle of green glass, with some more opiate pills inside. Viktor must have put it there the day before, when he came to fill the pitcher. The boy grabbed one and drank some water to swallow it, before looking back at the mirror. His face was a mess; his eyes puffy and red and skin the color of chalk, stretched taut over his prominent cheekbones and jaw line. He may have been feeling better, but he was still far from healed. He ran his fingers through his hair, using the left over gel from yesterday's style to try and slick the black locks back in a somewhat presentable fashion. The fruitless attempt wasn't even close to being successful. If he ever wanted to feel confident enough to knock on that door and get breakfast, a shower would be necessary. He sighed and turned to the exuberant bathtub, and after a bit of pushing and pulling, managed to get some water running at a decent temperature. He inhaled deeply and forced himself to get into the tub, no matter how much it hurt to raise his legs that high. He let himself flop unto the carved step, exasperated with how much this little effort had exhausted him. Considering how weak he was, he only let the water fill up to his calves, not wanting to slip and stupidly drown because of some malaise. Slowly but surely, he managed to wash himself, scrubbing every single part of his body as much as he could. His crisis in bed earlier had made him feel uncomfortable in his own skin, and the purifying feeling of soap on his body was more than welcome. The man even went through the trouble of crouching and dealing with the pain in his ribs to clean his hair from all the gel it was covered with.

After what felt like an eternity, Yuuri finally stepped out of the tube and grabbed a towel to dry himself. He slipped the bathrobe back on, and made his way to the door opposite of where he was. As he stood in front of the carved white wood, Yuuri had to take a few deep breaths to keep his heartbeat under control. Had he really been invited to eat breakfast in the prince's room? Had he just misunderstood it all? What would happen once he stepped out of that door? Was it really safe?

Seconds passed, and turned into minutes. A loud grumble from his stomach reminded him that standing in front of a door was not going to get him food any time soon. Yuuri sighed shakily. Finally, a trembling fist was raised against the wood to knock ever so softly.

"M...M-Master? W-would it be okay if hmm... If I had breakfast, please?"

Was that the right thing to say? Did he sound too demanding? Oh god, did he really screw up this early in the day?

Hurried footsteps sounded on the other side of the door, quickly opened by an elegant, beaming pale face.

"Yuuri, you are awake! Good morning! Of course you can have breakfast with me! Please come in!"

The boy was taken aback by the sudden display of enthusiasm. Wait, did the master just say "with me"? Yuuri wasn't just about to be sent off to the kitchens to grab something, he was actually going to eat at the prince's table?

He barely had to time to process what was happening before an excited, slobbering ball of mussed-up brown fur suddenly came out of nowhere and tackled him. Yuuri's brain went into a panic, but his body reacted on pure motor reflex at the familiar feeling, and grabbed the source of the licking by the head. It was just enough to keep it at a safe distance from his own face. As his mind cleared up, he realized his attacker was nothing else than an overly-eager, and apparently very strong, puppy. Yuuri stopped wrestling for a while to stare in the big brown eyes, and only found affection and playfulness in them. A smile cracked on his features. Reassured, he slowly got up and starting petting the beast, his insistent tongue tickling him and making him giggle. Behind them, a thoroughly embarrassed Viktor was vainly trying to get the dog back to his feet, until he had to quit and tug him by the collar all the way back in the room, so Yuuri could be free again. The boy was chuckling all the while at the scene, having accepted his fate as this dog's new friend, although he remained slightly confused at his presence as he hadn't noticed him the previous day.

"I am so sorry, please forgive Makkachin, he frequently forgets he's grown up and doesn't weigh ten pounds anymore..." Yuuri shook his head dismissively, still smiling. It had been a while since he received any canine affection, and would never be angry about it. Viktor continued explaining himself as he dragged the puppy in his room and out of sight, his voice muffled by the wall.

"He was sleeping in his room yesterday, thank the gods, I wouldn't have wanted to traumatize you with such a welcome... Makkachin! Come! You'll see him later, I promise, but give him a break for now!" After some more rustling, arguing, and the sound of a door closing, the prince finally reappeared in the doorway, at last inviting him in the room.

Said prince was flustered from the joust with his dog, hair slightly mussed up and breathing uneven. He was barely dressed in a dark green robe, much similar to the one Yuuri wore, the silky fabric of the garment sliding down his shoulders and revealing his chest. Yuuri couldn't help his wandering eyes at the man's natural beauty, unconsciously letting his gaze follow the curves of the muscular body. He seemed hairless, and his snow-white skin stretched graciously around defined pectorals, collarbones, and biceps. Even his neck had a princely look to it, making the man look like a marble statue made of elegance and sensuality. As Viktor moved out of the way to let his guest in, Yuuri shyly looked away, ashamed and worried that his staring had been noticed. As his eyes searched frantically for anything to look at other than the Adonis body beside him, the boy noticed that a large table had been set in the middle of the room. The place was twice as large as Yuuri's own suite, and was decorated with rich cream-colored walls and comforter, as well as dark wood furniture. An impressive poster bed lay on the right, facing towards the main exit on the left. The massive white double doors were delicately inlayed with gold swirls and patterns. Opposite to him, Yuuri noticed an ornate desk covered in neatly folded papers, as well as a library full of ancient-looking tomes. If the slave remembered correctly, that was where the secret door they used the day before was located. Right next to them on their left was another door, which was slightly open to reveal a shimmering bathroom.

Before Yuuri could take in more details, the prince led him to the dining table, and pulled a seat for him. The wooden surface in front of him was covered with colorful, deliciously smelling plates. Some were filled with strange fruits, others with fresh breads, and more still with delicacies like cold meats or exotic nuts. Viktor sat across from him in one of the plump chairs, and started to fill his plate with food as he offered some to the slave. Yuuri kept his eyes low, unable to meet his master's gaze, and accepted anything he was served, uneasiness making him silent. He didn't know this country's manners, and he wasn't exactly sure what he was eating and how to eat it. On top of that, he didn't have a clue if he really deserved to be there, seated in front of a prince, half-dressed and barely combed. It's not that the silver-haired man was any better, which made Yuuri even more nervous with the familiarity that was displayed. After a while, he realized he hadn't touched his meal and was staring blankly at his plate. 'Oh no, this could be bad, what if he thinks I'm being impolite or don't like the food...' He panicked, and hurriedly grabbed the foreing cutlery, but stopped dead in his track at the sight of his plate. 'I... I don't know how to eat any of this! What if I disrespect their manners and offend him? How am I ever going to feed myself if I don't even know what to do? Quick, I need to think of something!' His terrified mind didn't even consider looking up at his master for indications. He simply stared at his food insistently, as if looking at it with intent would somehow give it a sense that his panic-striken brain wouldn't even be able to understand anyway. His vision was getting blurry from the anxiety, and the cutlery was now slippery in his sweaty palms. Suddenly, the prince's voice cut through his nerve-wracking thoughts.

"Yuuri, are you well? Is the food alright?"

'Oh no.' This was exactly what he had feared. The prince thought he wasn't grateful, and he would be scolded for it, and he might not be allowed food again, and-

"I can send servants to get something else at the market, if you want. I'm sure this is not what you are used to, and I truly apologize for that, but maybe we could find something similar to what you like. We could go with them, if that pleases you. I... I could also place a special order for the next importations, or..."

The boy exhaled slowly. The prince was rambling now, but through the flowing words Yuuri somehow found a way to breathe again. He wasn't going to be scolded. He would still be allowed to eat. He was not in danger. The prince was just worried about him, strangely enough. He continued to inhale deeply, once, twice, willing the panic away. The concern the silver-haired man showed and how he was getting out of his way to make his protégé feel comfortable reassured the boy.

Yuuri suddenly realized he had only spoken to the prince directly twice, and only to briefly answer his questions. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to address him or if he even had the right to do so, but he somehow he felt that it was safe for him to speak up. However, he kept his gaze lowered and tried to sound as submissive as he could as he opened his mouth.

"I... I very much appreciate it... master, but it won't be necessary. I just... wouldn't want to disrespect your customs. I would be very grateful if you could... show me, please?"

The older man's face lit up at the timid request, although Yuuri noticed the sadness flashing in his eyes at the title. The prince still seemed to decide not to bring up the subject for now, and suddenly his hands and mouth were moving happily to explain as best as he could and in thorough details how to use every utensils, at what time and with what plate. They went like this for a while, Viktor smiling eagerly at his guest with every movement, and the younger boy timidly but curiously picking at every dish in his plate as he felt his body regain some strength. On top of that, the peculiar food wasn't actually so bad.

Silence fell upon them as they ate, and several minutes passed before the man spoke again.

"Did you get a good night of sleep, Yuuri?"

The boy answered truthfully with the affirmative, although the question brought back memories of his difficult morning, and the barely-there smile was uneasy. Viktor noticed, and a slight frown creased his brows.

"Was the medication Mila gave you enough? She could give you something to help you sleep if you would like, you know..."

The dark-haired man shook his head.

"Oh no, it's fine, thank you very much master..." Viktor's frown only grew at that.

"Please, Yuuri, I beg you, call me Viktor." Yuuri's hand carrying his fork stopped in middair. He raised his head in shock, looking at his master in the eyes for the first time that day. He... begged him?

"Please, it's just... You are no slave here, remember? It just feels... wrong. I would really appreciate it if you could call me by my name." It was the prince's turn to lower his gaze, sadness and regret apparent on his face. The man's distress went straight to Yuuri's heart. If calling him by his name was what he wanted, the boy was ready to risk sounding disrespectful to make him feel better.

"I-I can try... Viktor." The prince's shoulders dropped in relief, his features softening. He truly looked grateful.

"Thank you, Yuuri."

Yuuri smiled soflty, and finally took his almost-forgotten bite. The boy felt confidence and warmth fill his chest as the tension between them dissipated. What pushed him to keep on going, he would never know. Maybe it was the desire to pursue small talk, or to enjoy feeling quite... normal. He could only hope it wouldn't be perceived the wrong way.

"Mila is very good at what she does. She... She seems like a very precious friend."

Yuuri saw his host's face light up at the words, deep fondness softening his gaze.

"Oh, she really is. Even though she presents herself as my sister, she's almost like a mother to me." Viktor hesitated for half a second, and then went on. "Mine passed away when I was really young, just before my father died in battle. I was mostly raised by Lilia, the regent at the time, and Yakov the general-in-chief, who you've met. Even though they've done a very good job and I love them very much, Mila gave me warmth and affection I would have never had otherwise. I couldn't imagine life without her being around to scold me or teach me what she does."

Yuuri eyes went wide at the narrative. He struggled to swallow his mouthful around a tight throat, wondering what he could answer to that. He really hadn't expected such a heartfelt confession in response to his seemingly harmless question.

"Oh... I'm... I'm sorry for your parents, Mas-..." Yuuri had to make a conscious effort to let the name out. "...Viktor." The man beamed, apparently proud of his protégé and at peace with the subject, even though a hint of sadness darkened his crystal-blue eyes.

"Oh, you don't have to be Yuuri, that was a long time ago... I barely knew them at all anyway, and I have been taken good care of afterwards." The boy lowered his head in respect, nodding uncomfortably. He had dropped his utensils, the idea of eating now far from his mind. Despite all his fears and worries, Yuuri couldn't find it in him not to feel sorry for the man. Being an orphan, and so young at that, wasn't something anyone deserved.

After Viktor had shared so much of his life in a few words with him, Yuuri felt he owed him the same. He might be misreading the level of comfort the prince wanted to establish, but he wasn't sure he would regret speaking up either.

"My... My parents are very kind too. They both worked as cooks in the palace's kitchens, and sometimes helped out the attendants when the king had guests. I... I also have a sister, and we were both learning from our parents how to manage the kitchens. "

The prince gave the boy an odd look at that. It seemed he had a question he was burning to ask, but was still debating if he actually could. Yuuri chewed on his lip in response, head still bowed towards his plate. Maybe he had said too much, or had misunderstood and wasn't welcome to share his boring little story. Perhaps what the prince wanted was simply a confidant, someone to listen to him, not to chat with.

"Yuuri... Do you know what happened to them?"

The question caught him off guard. He lifted his eyes in surprise, catching a glimpse of uncertain, worried blue eyes. The black-haired man hadn't expected the prince to actually care about his family's fate, or anything that had to do with his past really. He barely managed to stutter an answer.

"W-well... They should be safe now. The... the guards had managed to evacuate most of the palace before your army came in. I just... wasn't with them at that time. The word of the invasion... never got to me." Memories flashed in front of his deep brown eyes. He couldn't help the moisture suddenly filling them, blurring his vision. He definitely wasn't going to be able to eat anymore. His heart felt crushed by the weight of his loss, the longing and grief filling him with despair. It felt as if until now, he hadn't fully realized how much of his life was never going to be the same. It felt as if maybe, somehow, if he didn't think about it, it wouldn't be true.

Where he actually was on that day, he could never tell his master.