Seven: Affection ~Never able to return~
Wind whipped through Saralegui's hair as he stood at the ship's prow. No gulls soared overhead; they were far from any shore. The only sounds were the snapping of flags in the wind and the endless swash of waves. All around, as far as the eye could see, were deep blue waves and bright blue skies with white froth and white clouds scudding across.
To put it simply, Saralegui was bored.
Veni, I'm bored.
Of course you are. The voice sounded amused. Anyone would be.
Give me something to do. Anything. Teach me something.
Sure. Why don't we start with something simply – invisibility? suggested the sword.
That means no one will be able to see me, right? Saralegui wanted to make sure he had things clear. With Veni, one had to be very precise.
The answer was patient. Yes, it does. Would you like me to explain the mechanics?
Please, said the blonde.
Well, you already know that your power is partly based in light. All you need to do is stop light from reflecting from you. You see, things can only be seen when light is reflected off those things into the eyes of people or animals. When no light is reflected off you, you cannot be seen by anything or anybody.
I see. So how do I prevent light from reflecting off me?
Hmm… I suggest imagining it. Different people have different ways of doing things, though, so you don't have to do what I tell you to the letter… unless I tell you that you must do exactly what I want, replied Veni soberly.
Saralegui closed his eyes, imagining light rays coming towards him like a storm of spears. Instead of allowing them to bounce off their target – him – he imagined them sinking in and sticking to him, rather like toothpicks in sticky cakes.
Not quite like that – if you do that, you'd not be able to see properly either, cautioned the sword. Try imagining the light passing through you. Those spears should keep going as though they never hit anything, as though you are air.
Obeying, the young king also thoughtfully bathed the spears in his power. Would this help?
I don't believe so. By rights, you should be wrapped in your own power. It shouldn't require conscious effort…
Oh never mind. Saralegui opened his eyes. To his satisfaction, he found that his hands were no longer visible, his sleeves apparently held up by thin air. However, the rest of his body appeared intact. Veni?
I haven't taught you how to make other object – such as clothes – that are not part of yourself invisible, said the sword. You're being too impatient, child.
Can I help it? This is amazing!
I admit that you're doing very well, considering that this is your first try.
Saralegui could almost feel his ego swelling. Can you teach me more?
Sure. Now, you'll have to include your clothes inside your houryoku…
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By the end of three days, the young king, with the help of his new mentor and companion, had a good grasp of the basics of invisibility, soundlessness and heat minimization. He tested his skills by creeping up on Berias to see if the hyperaware bodyguard would be able to detect him. Berias never noticed that he had company until his ponytail mysteriously came undone, upon which he whipped around and caught Saralegui by the arm in a vice-like grip. The blonde instantly reappeared, laughing heartily at the priceless expression on the normally stoic man's face.
"I'm sorry," he apologized, not sounding at all apologetic.
Berias was not amused. "What are you doing, expending your power like this? Admittedly it is a very useful application, but you should conserve your energy while you can! You don't know what might happen in Shin Makoku –"
"Relax, Berias, I will be fine as long as I have Veni," Saralegui reassured him. "In any case, why are you so worried? I don't believe that the Maou will have any reason to attack me."
"I fear that Alazon may have discovered the reason we are going to Shin Makoku – that the Maou's power is the appropriate power to revive Seisakoku. If this is true, she may choose to come and persuade him to join her. Should that happen, we would be greatly disadvantaged," explained the bodyguard.
The blonde folded his arms, frowning slightly. He has a point. She might come, hypnotize Yuuri, and steal Veni. Then what'll become of me? I have to prevent this from happening at all costs. "Well, then we just have to get to the Maou before her and persuade him to our cause as quickly as possible."
Berias didn't seem convinced, but he bowed his head. "Sir."
Smiling, Saralegui said, "I'm going to bed now. We should be reaching shore tomorrow, right?" He left the navigation room, heading for his own personal suite. The man followed him, his faithful shadow.
By the time the young king had washed up and gotten ready for bed, the sheets were folded down and the lights dimmed. The blonde had never liked having more servants in his room than he could help, so Berias was accustomed to doing such jobs for his master. Putting Veni and his spectacles on his bedside table, Saralegui pulled the covers over himself and settled in to sleep. Tomorrow I'll get to see Yuuri.
For what felt like the first time in a long time, he dreamed.
Rione was rougher than the others before him were. The thought echoed in Saralegui's head, not for the first time, as the man pressed him none-too-gently up against the hard wall, teeth sending jolts of pain and pleasure from the blonde's left ear. Saralegui gasped, arching his back to gain deeper contact.
"You're so much prettier when you're flustered," whispered the noble, lips brushing his ears. Hands made quick work of the knotted buttons, pushing aside Saralegui's stiff collar to expose his neck. The prince choked back a scream as a skilful mouth assaulted the still-raw mark at the junction of his neck and shoulder.
Saralegui knew that Berias was somewhere close by, keeping an eye on them to make sure he wasn't physically damaged by Rione while in such a vulnerable state. He'd long since lost any sense of embarrassment in being seen in such a way by his bodyguard. Berias also kept others away from them, which was definitely a good thing – if the king heard of his son being involved in such illicit activities barely past puberty, there would be no end of trouble.
In any case, it was his father's fault he was turning to nobles like Rione who were only too happy to entertain the young, needy prince.
Rione's hands were burning on his back and stomach. "So, my prince, what will it be today?" Seeing that the blonde was incapable of answering, he chuckled and knelt, pushing aside Saralegui's robes and undoing his leggings. The youth's member was already weeping with need. As he had done several times before, Rione swallowed it, stroking the length with his practiced tongue.
Saralegui's nails dug mercilessly into the wall behind, chipping paint when he jerked involuntarily as he went over the edge.
Just as he came in the dream, Saralegui woke up. He was drenched in sweat and his heartbeat was uncomfortably erratic. Why did I dream of that, so many years after I ordered Rione killed?
Had a nice dream? That was Veni, mercilessly sarcastic.
Shut up. The blonde pulled the overheated covers off himself, getting out of bed and heading for the washstand. He didn't feel at all rested. Even holding the water jug seemed to be too much work as he washed away the sweat and the feeling of dirtiness that accompanied it.
Want to talk about it? invited the sword, sounding much kinder than it had earlier. It might make you feel better.
Not particularly eager to return to the still-warm bed, he went to stand by the porthole. Cold dark waves with stark white crests filled his field of vision, dimming the last echoes of hot ecstasy. No. It's not like you don't know already. I know that you look through my memories while I'm not paying attention.
Veni didn't deny it, probably because it was true. Leaving it at that, the young king leaned his heated head against the cool glass of the porthole.
As he'd entered his teenage years, Saralegui had become increasingly conscious and increasingly intolerable of the ever-present yawning void in himself, the void that should have been filled naturally but somehow had never been, the void that ached for affection in any form. His father was always distant and cold, more of a figure of respect rather than one of family; Berias always carefully maintained the master-servant boundary. So he'd had to find a source of affection elsewhere – in the arms of hot-blooded noblemen all too willing to entertain him.
He couldn't remember how many there were – apart from Rione, most of them had been nameless, faceless entities that had existed for only the brief period in which his interest in them remained. After he decided they weren't worth his attention, he simply erased their memories of him and moved on to another. That had been the case until he encountered Rione.
Originally he'd thought that the noble, a second son of some earl or other with a reputation for promiscuity, would be the perfect pastime. No more of those idiots who weren't sure whether they could actually treat their prince like a sex toy or were afraid of his father finding out. This man bedded women the night before their weddings, right under their parent's noses. Saralegui was sure there would be no problems of the sort he'd faced before.
He was right. There were no reservations on Rione's part. The noble, in his early twenties and undeniably gorgeous, took him as far and further than Saralegui had intended. It had been an amazing experience, the thrill of danger of writhing naked in the large cupboard at the back of the king's office, the unimaginable ecstasy of bathing with someone else (in a rather less-than-innocent fashion)… and before he knew it, he was in deeper than he should ever have been.
Berias didn't tell him, but he didn't need to be told. He realized just how vulnerable he was to the older man. Rione could do almost anything to him, bind him and trap him and all but rape him, and he wouldn't – couldn't – protest or punish the noble. The knowledge that he was going to be king soon (what with his father's incurable illness) drove home the point. But he couldn't solve the problem the way he had the others, because most of the palace knew about what was going on with him and Rione.
So he did the only other thing he could think of. He ordered Rione to commit suicide. Naturally, the noble did so very obligingly, making half the court break down in tears and the other half heave a deep sigh of relief. And Saralegui was rid of him… until now.
That's how you deal with people who you can't control? You kill them? inquired Veni, sounding almost sad.
Saralegui ignored the sword, going back to his now somewhat cooler bed. There was Yuuri to look forward to tomorrow. For the moment he would just forget about this and hope he didn't encounter any more such dreams.
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When he next woke up, gulls were screaming overhead and the shore was visible through the porthole window. Saralegui had to suppress the excitement bubbling up in him – they were in Shin Makoku!
I'm not eager, he added for Veni's benefit. The sword didn't bother to reply.
There was a knock on the door, and Berias came in. "Your Majesty, we will dock in Shin Makoku within the hour."
"Very well," answered the blonde. "Send a messenger pigeon to the Maou informing him of our imminent arrival on his shores. I believe we are worthy of an escort."
"Sir." The Shinzoku guard left, closing the door quietly as he did so.
Rolling out of bed, Saralegui began to prepare himself to meet the Maou on his own ground.
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As Berias had predicted, they were able to dock in just under an hour. Saralegui was not surprised to see that they indeed had a welcoming entourage – the Maou and his retainers, several of whom the blonde recognized from their visit to his own palace. There was the noisy blonde, the brunette Berias seemed so fixated on, and the bespectacled soukoku, among others. And of course, there was Yuuri himself.
The Maou, apparently feeling no need for the propriety normally expected of a king, had forsaken much of his dignity, waving madly and shouting "Sara!" at the top of his voice. After a short but intense internal debate on whether he should respond with his customary politeness or with exuberance to match the soukoku, Saralegui settled for the latter, smiling and waving back to Yuuri with more energy than he normally liked to expend.
I'm not excited, just responding in kind, he stated rebelliously. Veni just laughed, not bothering to refute him.
Once he and Berias stepped onto land, he flew towards Yuuri in keeping with his previous enthusiasm and flung his arms around the soukoku. "Yuuri! Oh, I've been waiting so long to see you!"
"Hi Sara," greeted the Maou, seeming rather rattled by the blonde's unexpected excitement. "I'm so happy you could come!"
"I came as soon as I could get away," replied Saralegui. He was quite grateful he had chosen to hug Yuuri – the blonde still hadn't regained his land legs and leaning on Yuuri helped.
There was a discreet cough somewhere behind the Maou, and glancing over the younger boy's shoulder, Saralegui saw the brunette – Weller, if he remembered correctly – watching them with amusement. The blonde who claimed to be Yuuri's fiancée was sending him poisonous glances; if looks could kill, Saralegui would probably have been dead the moment he hugged Yuuri. The purple-haired Mazoku, meanwhile, looked as though he'd just glimpsed heaven.
"Why don't we talk at the castle?" suggested Weller diplomatically.
"Good idea, Conrad," agreed Yuuri. "Sara, would you mind if we ride? Sorry, but I was in such a hurry to get to the port that there wasn't time to get a carriage."
He was wearing that adorably sheepish look that made Saralegui want to laugh and at the same time force himself to be restrained so that he wouldn't hurt the younger boy's feelings. "I don't mind at all."
The ride back was more enjoyable than the king of Shou Shimaron had thought it would be. For one thing, the landscape was refreshingly different, as was the language. Most countries were fluent in Shimarese, the language of business due to Dai Shimaron's bicentennial domination of the greater part of the known world. In Shin Makoku, which had resolutely remained independent of the greedy conqueror, Mago (or Demon Language) was heard everywhere, with common or rude Shimarese terms slipped into regular conversation. Saralegui was happy to find that his secret studies in the forbidden language had paid off – he could understand most of what was being said, even though they probably thought he couldn't.
"Yuuri, you're being such a cheater," complained the self-proclaimed fiancée in Mago. "Don't you realize that he's just trying to take advantage of you?"
"Sara wouldn't do such a thing," declared the Maou in the same language. "He's my friend, Wolfram."
So, the fiancée's name was Wolfram, and clearly he had a tendency for jealousy. Saralegui stored that information for later use. His blank expression apparently had them fooled about his understanding their language for the moment.
Yuuri chattered nearly endlessly for the rest of the ride, and the other king had a hard time keeping his satisfaction that the Maou completely ignored his fiancée's sulk to himself.
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"So you are the famous king of Shou Shimaron," remarked a blonde woman in a black dress that fitted her like a second skin, doing nothing to diminish the ripe curves of her body. "Yuuri's been telling us all about you."
"I'm honored to have been the subject of your conversations," replied Saralegui. "May I have the pleasure of knowing your name, beautiful lady?"
She laughed and before he knew it he was being crushed in her slender yet surprisingly strong arms. "You're so cute! I can see why Yuuri likes you so much! You're like my Wolf–"
"Mother!" interrupted Wolfram. "Don't you dare compare me with a slimy creature like him!"
"Wolfram!" scolded several people at once, Yuuri and the woman included.
Idiot. Even if I didn't understand what you said, the tone makes it quite clear. The young king kept his scorn to himself, saying instead, "Oh, you're Sir Wolfram's mother? He is very lucky to have such a beautiful, and I am certain, accomplished lady for a mother."
"You are such a flatterer." She flicked a hand at him. "I'm sure the ladies in your court are all over you."
Behind them, Yuuri gave a slightly embarrassed cough. "Sara, this is Lady Cecilie von Spitzberg. She's Wolfram, Conrad and Gwendal's mother."
"I haven't met Sir Gwendal before, but I'm sure all your sons do you great credit, Lady von Spitzberg," commented the other king with a bright smile.
"Don't call me that! It makes me sound so old," protested the woman. "It's Cheri, got it? Cheri!"
"Yes, Cheri-sama." Saralegui bowed without resistance. "Ne Yuuri, I thought you said you had a daughter?"
"She's right here." The soukoku, gently pushed a small girl with coffee-colored skin and hair and hazel eyes forward. "This is Greta. Greta, this is Sara."
"I'm Saralegui," said the blonde, subtly correcting the other's words. "It's a great pleasure to meet you, Greta-san. Yuuri likes to talk about you."
"Yuuri talked about me to you?" Greta's expression instantly changed from one of mild fear and anticipation to one of excitement. "What did he say? Did he tell you why he adopted me?"
Saralegui shook his head. "No, I'm afraid not. I would like to know, though. I'm sure it would be a very interesting story."
The little girl giggled. "Yes, it is! We'll tell you all about it –"
"Now, Greta, we don't really have time for that," Yuuri cut in hurriedly. "We still haven't told Sara about the party!"
"What party?" The other king tilted his head, the picture of puzzlement.
Yuuri waved his hands around awkwardly. "Well, erm, you see, since you're a king and all, Gunter wanted to throw a party to celebrate your arrival. I told him you'd be tired and all that, I mean it's the first day you're here and you just got off your ship, but he wouldn't listen, not even when Gwendal said no – I think Gunter just wants to throw a party, there hasn't been one in ages –"
"Yuuri, you're babbling," commented the bespectacled soukoku calmly.
"Am I? Sorry," he apologized, a look of abject guilt on his face. "But you see, I –"
"It's okay," interrupted Saralegui, averting the danger of another slew of unintelligible explanation from the Maou. "I'm sure we'll be up to a party tonight, especially if we get to have a short rest before it." By 'we', he was naturally referring to Berias and himself. Up till now, the bodyguard had remained silent for the most part, sticking close to him like the proverbial shadow.
The younger boy relaxed visibly. "Oh, then that's okay! We'll definitely let you rest. But before that, I promised I'd show you around Blood Pledge Castle, didn't I?"
"Indeed you did," agreed the blonde king. "Berias, I will leave the luggage in your charge." Without waiting for a response from the Shinzoku guard, he bounced over to Yuuri. "What would you like to show me?"
"Let's go to the kitchens!" The Maou quickly led him off down one of the corridors, leaving their retainers staring at each other nonplussed in the entrance hall.
Have fun, cheered Veni. Don't worry, I won't intrude on you two.
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A/N: Darn, I wanted to upload a chappie every week of this very short holiday period. Looks like I couldn't. I'll try very hard to get the next chapter done within the month, though you all know by now not to count on it. Stick with me, though. This ficcy is moving along pretty well ;D unlike some of my others which are totally stuck.
Took the idea of Saralegui being less than innocent from LaChoy's ficcy Close. Pushed the rating up too, hope y'all don't mind 'cause there'll be SaraYuu of this kind of rating further on in the ficcy. Rione is a figment of my imagination, of course, and so are the languages of the KKM universe. I thought they added a new dimension to things ^^
Is Saralegui getting OOC? Do tell me what you think of what I'm doing with the characters! Sorry if I haven't been replying your reviews, but it's because I'm busy writing the fic :-X I'll reply when I can, and don't take it personally! Feedback is really inspirational and I need what inspiration I can get XD
Please Review!!