Alright, let me give you a brief introduction. This story is basically crack in the guise of a serious story, and should not be taken too seriously. Not that it's funny or anything, it really isn't, but it's very much like a fairytale in it's lack of.. believableness... You'll understand soon enough.

The first chapter jumps around in time a lot, I hope it's not too confusing. Since it's told in Black's POV, I let everything seem kind of dream-like. I'm planning on around five short-ish chapters or so, and I have pretty much everything figured out, but actually writing it is always where I trip up. Please forgive any long waiting periods between chapter uploads. I'm also considering drawing an illustration or two, but who knows when that will happen...

Now for the warnings, because this story is not for the faint of heart. It contains, as I have planned it thus-far: Sex (the yaoi kind), murder, violence, rape (Ghetsis is in this, after all), torture (mental, emotional, and physical. Hoo boy), angst, and more sex. I was originally considering throwing in Mpreg, but maybe that's too much... I'll probably leave that out unless you guys want me to add it. Anyway, if those things bother you, I would suggest you go read something else, because I'm not gonna pull of any punches.

With that said, let us commence!

grey:

–of a neutral tone, intermediate between black and white

–dark, dismal, or gloomy

It is the solemn duty of a knight to protect the king with his very life.

That's what I honestly believe, but what am I supposed to do when my king's orders, which I have sworn to obey without question, conflict with my other vow of protecting him?

This is the question plaguing the back of my mind as we lay here together on the rug in front of the roaring fireplace, making love as though the rest of the world did not exist.

After year of serving him faithfully as his personal bodyguard, my every fantasy came true when on that rainy day last week, he whispered a timid order into my ear.

"Touch me."

What else could I do but obey? I loved him. And had loved him for three years before that moment. For me at least, it had been love at first sight. Like something out of a fairytale.

The previous king had succumbed to illness, leaving no family to take the throne. However, before he died, he left a will stating that years ago he had been given a prophecy from a mysterious witch who told him that he would be succeeded by a child who would lead the kingdom into a new era. This boy, then an infant, was raised by the Seven Sages, the king's personal council made up of astrologists, wise men, and nobles. He would be given the same education as any crown prince, and be legally declaired the next ruler.

I was thirteen then, and for the most part too involved in my study of swordsmanship to pay much heed to the scandal that brewed in the wake of this announcement. No one had ever seen or heard of this mysterious person who would claim the throne on the whim of a witch, and the kingdom stirred with anxiety.

However, when the old king passed away and the crowning ceremony was held, most of the those fears vanished in the wake of awe.

Just sixteen years old, the boy called N captured the hearts and minds of everyone to lay eyes on him, and that included myself. He had a way about him, an aura of regalness and charisma that was nothing if not perfect for a king.

When I first saw him, standing on the castle balcony after being crowned king, I was reminded of childhood tales of elves and faeryfolk said to be impossibly beautiful people of the forest who would lead lost children to safety and bewitch travelers. I truly wondered if he was one of them, with his pearlescent skin, flowing green hair, and distant eyes. Someone of such perfection could not be human, but if he was an elf, then it was already too late. The entire populace was under his spell in an instant.

So enchanted was I by this magnificent creature that I dedicated myself to becoming a swordsman worthy of knighthood. If I could be a knight, then I had a chance to be close to him. There was nothing else I wanted more, and for two years I trained tirelessly with that goal, surpassing my teacher and all the other students in spite of my small stature and slender physique.

It was at that time that a nation-wide tournament was being held to decide the greatest swordsman in the land. The prize going to the winner was not just a title, but the duty to be the king's personal knight. My chance had come more perfectly than I could have ever hoped, and with my heart beating wildly, I entered the tournament.

Many fine swordsmen from all across the kingdom were there, gathered in the great Colosseum. I could see that all they wanted was to be called the strongest, but I had a more substantial dream than that, one fueled by love. Whether or not I was actually the strongest in body or technique, the belief I had in my own ability was unrivaled, and it carried me straight into the finals.

I stood there in the ring as a massive crowd roared all around. In front of me stood a massive man, the last obstacle to achieving my dream. I paid him little heed, however, because today, the last day of the tournament, Lord N was attending to watch the battles.

Up there in the private box reserved for royalty and the Seven Sages, he sat in wordless observation. I noticed that he looked bored, or rather, it seemed to me that he didn't approve of any of this. Those solemn eyes would turn away from whichever two opponents were clashing blades, and I wondered if he thought this sport mediocre, or repulsive.

It made me worry, to be honest. Would I disgust him, having fought with such abandon to reach the top?

I was pulled from my thoughts when over the din of the crowd I heard a familiar voice calling my name. Looking over to the sidelines, I saw my two best friends since we were toddlers, Bel and Cheren. Bel was waving her arms wildly and cheering for me even though the match had not yet started, and Cheren wore a confident smile.

Seeing them gave me my fortitude again. Whatever the king thought of this tournament, and of me when I won it, there would be plenty of time to earn his trust once I was his knight. The hardest battle was standing there between us here and now.

Flashing them both a grin in return, I took off my hat and tossed it away before unsheathing my sword. The match was about to begin.

One last time I glanced up at Lord N, and almost froze when I did. He was watching me. Really watching. Did I interest him in some way? I was the youngest swordsman to hold his own in this tournament, and now here I stood with only one more opponent before I could win the grand prize, so I suppose it was only natural for him to find me interesting, but I still felt as though he was expecting something of me.

I'm sure I ought to be nervous, but instead I was filled with confidence. Now I could prove my worth to him. I was not fighting with anything but the pure strength of my will, and maybe, just maybe, he could see that.

The bell was rung, and I rushed towards my rival.

That was just one year ago. So much had happened, it felt like ten. At that time, I never would have expected that I now be here, in N's arms, reveling in the sensation of his sweat-soaked skin rubbing against mine, hearing his voice whimpering and gasping so intimately. To think of all the nights I dreamed about him like this, but never dared to hope for it's reality. If only these secret moments could be as sweet as I had pictured, and not marred by the horrific truth I was helpless against. I was the strongest swordsmen in the kingdom, and yet I could not so much as draw my blade on his waking nightmare.

Up until last month, this year since the tournament seemed so rose-coloured, so full of happiness. How had I been so blind as to not see the shadows? Or had I just not wanted to see them?

I should have been able to hear him. His silent voice beneath the words he spoke, begging me to be his savior. Now he told me to turn a blind eye, and all I can hear of his true voice is the crying of someone at the end of their rope.

Three years ago, I was still unable to perceive his hidden emotions, although he knew mine from the very first moment.

I had won. Standing there in the wake of the announcement that I had defeated the last opponent and earned the final victory, I felt slightly stunned. Two years of struggling towards this moment, it was now here. I had fulfilled my dream.

I was so caught up in my stupor that I did not notice that the crowd had gone eerily quiet. I just stared down at my sword as though it was the physical form of my completed goal.

Then I heard him.

One of the first things the kingdom learned about their new young ruler was that he was not one for public speaking. Those matters were handled by Ghetsis Harmonia, the leader of the Seven Sages and the most powerful man in the country under the king. But even though I could count the times I had heard him speak on one hand, I still was able to recognize his voice past the rushing in my ears.

"Congratulations."

My head shot up, and I saw that he was right in front of me. Tall and beautiful and smiling.

It felt like I was in a dream. Please don't let me wake up...

"Y-your Highness!" I quickly bowed my head as I felt my face heat up.

"You have fought all this way, and now the title of 'strongest' is yours, as is the honor of becoming my knight. But before that, there is something I wish to ask you."

I glanced up at him in surprise. "Majesty?"

Up close like this, he was even more unreal. His eyes seemed to look straight through me, and I could not read his emotions at all, something that for a swordsman is quite disconcerting.

"I have observed the way you battle." He continued, still with that enigmatic expression. "It is with a purpose. A true purpose. You were fighting for a dream, were you not?"

So he had noticed.

"I was, Sir."

That strange smile widened slightly, and he nodded. "Yes, I thought so. I do not enjoy fighting, or violence of any kind, but I have read that swordsmen can understand each other through battle. I want to feel the strength of that dream of yours. Would you accept?" Even though it sounded like he was asking me, as he spoke he removed his long white cloak and carelessly tossed it aside, his crown following after it. Then he unsheathed the legendary Reshiram, the holy white sword wielded only by the king. It was said to contain the spirit of an ancient dragon who would only obey those pure of heart. "Will you cross blades with me?"

I stared, entranced by both that beautiful sword and it's beautiful owner. Fight the man I loved? Fight the king I longed to serve? It was a request I was not sure I could fulfill, but what he was asking me... Beneath this odd proposal were words I as a swordsman could understand. To speak through the blade instead of the voice was a gift among true warriors, and if he wanted to forge that kind of connection between us, to feel the strength and honesty of my dream, then that could only mean that he acknowledged me as someone worthy of listening to.

A tremble began deep in my bones, not from fear but excitement. Letting it fill my blood with power, I straightened my stance and took hold of my sword with both hands. "It would be my greatest honor."

In the next instant, the sound of metal clashing rang through the otherwise silent Colosseum.

Since then, I had had many chances to spar with N, and it was a great source of pride for me that I was the only person he ever trained with. It was something special between us, a way to speak frankly that our difference in social status would never otherwise allow. As time went on, I realized that more than anything it was because he trusted me. He trusted no one else in the world but me. And I know best of all how very difficult it is for him to trust, but little by little he had pulled me closer, first as a friend, and now a lover, innocently handing me everything he had; his thoughts, his emotions, his body, and trusting me completely to handle them all gently.

The first thing he told me about himself, through his skilled and intricate swordplay, was that beneath his distant and aloof facade, N was an exceptionally passionate person. His beliefs were every bit as strong as my own, and for the first time since I began fighting with my whole heart, I was evenly matched. There in that Colosseum, I knew that it was fate. We had been born to meet, to be together in one way or another.

But at that time I could never have pictured spending a moment like this with him. To be holding him, kissing him, moving inside him as he sobs with pleasure. I feel as though I have caught an angel in my arms. An angel with torn and broken wings, but still every bit as sacred and pure as one could be.

I felt that way even then, as our first dance came to a standstill. We had said what we wanted to convey to each other, and determined that as swordsmen and dreamers we were equal. Sliding to a stop in the dust, we smiled at each other almost boyishly as we sheathed our swords and caught our breath. Around us, the crowd we had forgotten and which had been watching silently erupted into applause.

"An excellent show of skill!" We both turned to see Ghetsis walking towards us. "This young boy is truly worthy of being called the kingdom's strongest. He shall make a fine knight! Now come my King, you should start preparing for the celebration." He picked the discarded crown up off the ground and placed it back upon Lord N's head, letting a servant gather the dusty robe as he guided the king towards the stadium's exit.

After that, the hours leading up to the ceremony were like an endless blur, dragging on like some strange dream. First was the wild party at the tavern/inn Bel's family owned, the large room full to bursting with everyone I had ever known and many others I had never seen before, all wanting to congratulate me. Bel kept hugging me and crying while Cheren stubbornly tried to fill my head with stern instructions and good advice, none of which I was able to retain.

Then I was pulled by royal servants into one of the rooms upstairs where I was told to bathe and afterwards was fitted with a very elegant outfit and made to look presentable before being taken in a fancy carriage to the castle.

I had never been inside before, and being a simple commoner's son, my dazed mind was dealt another blow by the sheer finery of the palace and all the nobles attending. Everything seemed to glow like magic, but of course, nothing was quite so beautiful as my king, who was dressed in flowing white robes embroidered with gold.

Kneeling before him, I felt the touch of Reshiram on my shoulders, and then I was standing as a knight, his knight, looking up into blue-green eyes, falling into them. It was the beginning of the rest of our lives, and to this day I'm still lost in the depths of his eyes, wandering through the maze there as I search for his heart.

Now just a year later, with only the crackling fire to bear witness, I devote my entire being to his pleasure. Slowly, and with great care, I roll my hips against him, pulling out, sliding in. With each retreat he keens, wordlessly begging for my return, and with each stroke back inside, I touch that place inside that has him gasping.

A year ago I swore myself to him, as a sword and as a shield. In the time that has passed I promised to be his friend. Then he asked me to be the one to chase the darkness from his mind. I should be so happy that I could be the source of so much goodness in his lonely life, that with this body I can bring him to bliss. I should feel that my existence is complete to hear him cry my name in ecstacy as he falls over the edge.

But this isn't what I should be doing.

A knight's sole purpose is to protect his king, and yet he has ordered me to do nothing. Nothing except hold him and love him and pretend that just this can take away his suffering.

He falls asleep in my arms, but I remain staring into the fire for long hours afterward, clinging to the fragile body that I am not allowed to protect.