Chapter 2

Doumeki had, in his life, in his career, come awake in a potentially hostile position once before. Thinking back to that embarrassing mishap, he kept his eyes closed when he came to.

His arms and legs were relaxed, but immobile. Considering the lack of physical binding, he blamed magic. His throat felt slick, slimy and smooth like a wet snake, and his eyes burned beneath his lids. As soon as he noted that minor discomfort, the sting increased. His jaw tightened to stop any noises he might make, as the sensation became steadily more painful, but he couldn't prevent his eyes from watering. Or that water from running out, over his cheekbones.

A thumb whipped away some of the moisture, and a soft coo drifted down from above.

"Open your eyes, Hero."

He obeyed without thinking, and inwardly cursed himself.

The warlock's blue eyes crinkled in amusement. The thumb moved lightly over his face. "Don't move. I've placed magical restraints on you, and you will hurt yourself if you struggle. Do not try to use magic, either, because it won't work…"

His words trailed off as his eyes flitted over the Archer's features. His other hand came up to join the first in mapping out his face by touch.

Doumeki fidgeted under the light caresses, suspicious and curious and uncomfortable all at once.

A growl came from the floor, where Doumeki spotted the monstrous white fox curled up and watching him with as much suspicion as the Hero felt he owed the situation. Next to the animal--or rather, behind it--he saw his gear.

He didn't notice when the warlock's hands paused in their mission. The young man, apparently having followed his trail of vision, hummed, unconcerned.

"You don't have to worry." He said. Though his voice was hushed, it seemed obscenely loud in the single, dimly lit room. "I will let you go."

Doumeki worked his throat, preparing to give life to his doubts, and discovered that he couldn't. The warlock realized his trouble, and lowered a soft mouth to his ear, pressing his lips to the prone Archer's skin.

"Lasaroz. I forgot about that…"

And a finger, surprisingly strong, poked into the vulnerable flesh beneath his chin. A strange word that he instantly knew he would never be able to repeat fell from the young man's tongue like water, and he felt a sting.

The warlock sat up, taking his body heat with him, and smiled. His eyes twinkled. "Speak now, please. Tell me your name."

Doumeki wet his lips as he considered the spellworker. "Shizuka. Doumeki."

"I thought so…" he said to himself. The sunny smile came back, making the room seem brighter than before. "I am a man of my word; you will be released, but…First, I would like to…"

Doumeki watched, interested despite his predicament. It was the first time the warlock had exuded anything at all like unease.

He seemed to collect himself with a deep breath. "To make you a bargain.

"It calls for a bit of explaining." The warlock muttered, and gave an unsteady laugh. His hands balled into fists in his lap, one leg folded on the bed beside the Hero's thigh.

"I have a fascination with your eyes."

He blinked at that.

"What?" There was that laugh again. It wasn't at all like the first one he'd heard from the young man.

"Can you really blame me? Such a beautiful color…" He said dreamily, almost wistfully. "I...I had heard…around town, I do venture there ever once in a while, you know. But I never imagined…not in my truest dreams…the reality." He finished breathlessly. "I want them."

Doumeki froze with alarm and despair. His grandfather had been right about him; his damned curiosity was going to leave him blind.

"What if I don't want to give them?"

The air blew out of the young man. "What? Well, I didn't intend to take them for nothing-"

"No." Doumeki was getting tired of lying on his back. He began to fight to sit up, having forgotten the caster's warning against just such a thing. "Payment is not an issue. You want to gouge my eyes from my head? Even if I could make my living without seeing-"

"No!" The warlock was horrified. "Oh no, no, not at all! Why would I- no! Gods, all I want is the color!"

Doumeki eyed him suspiciously, relaxing his efforts. "How would you go about doing a thing like that? Taking the color of my eyes?"

"Simple magic." He pressed, as if the Archer needed convincing which, he probably did. "A spell my aohola left me, my teacher. It will take some of the vision from your eyes, but leave you most of it, I promise."

He shook his head, no. "I am first and foremost an archer; always have been. My eyes, my vision, is my business."

The young man sucked on his bottom lip, distressed. "I haven't made my bargain yet; what I would give in return. Perhaps that will change your mind?"

"Most likely not."

As he turned his face away in a sharp motion Doumeki caught sight of a glimmer of tears. He did feel sorry for him, for a young spellworker who didn't seem to understand that it was through his eyes that he made his livelihood, and that he simply could not part with them-

"What about one?"

The Archer surfaced from his thoughts, frowning at the caster's persistence. "I've told you-"

A hand pressed over his lips, silencing him. "No, please listen!I will give you five favors- five." He held out as many fingers. "Five favors from one such as myself can be of inestimable value. Five. Anything. Anything."

Doumeki's eyes popped; surely he didn't really mean anything. "Let me up. Remove your spell, and we will speak."

The caster did so watching, his own blue eyes wide, as the Hero sat up straight. Then he shot forward and took the man's face between his hands.

"You're considering it?" He pushed, fixing the newly mobile man with a shining, hopeful look.

The Archer ignored this. "You understand what you've promised me just now, you really do? Five favors, absolutely anything. Anything at all?"

The warlock was beside himself with excitement. "Yes, yes yes! Anything, I promise it!"

"Even if I asked for your death?" He fired back.

The inquiry was met with an harsh laugh. "Though I would recommend you spend your other favors before! Anything, Shizuka, Archer, Ranshag no'mai seki, Man of the Golden Eye, I promise you. Anything. Five times over."

Doumeki sat gobsmacked, so greatly was he astonished. He had never heard of such a thing, in all his life, in all the stories he'd heard told by wiser and older Heroes of the Guild. In all those years of his boyhood that had been spent locked up in the expansive library, studying. Such rashness, such risky behavior was truly unheard of.

He looked at the warlock before him, really looked at the man whose passion had brought a flush to his cheeks, a shine to his eyes that made them appear degrees lighter. His pupils were huge, and his chest moved with heavy breath as if he had raced a balverine.

Shaking his head, slowly, bemused, he asked in subdued voice, "Why? How can this mean so much to you?"

The young man beamed, catching his breath. He shook his head as well. "I really…can't say, Hero."

Obviously you can see that this Watanuki is a little different from canon. It is completely intentional and--here's the bonus--relevant. It's also explained later on, so, yay. Also, a balverine, for those who have not played Fable, is a werewolf. That's about it. I'll add a link about it to my profile, for your reference.

Please review. Doesn't matter what you say :)

-Oceans