Star Ocean: Till The End Of Time Fan Fiction ❯ Eye of Apris ❯ Part VIII ( Chapter 8 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Eye of Apris - Part VIII
by Mishaela

Disclaimer: Most of the characters represented here are property of SquareEnix. I'm just borrowing them for a little while to appease the muses who have taken me hostage. This story is homo-erotic in nature: if you're not a fan of yaoi/slash or you're too young to read this, turn back before it's too late.

* * *


Arriving at Aquios castle in the sacred city, Anvari landed in the courtyard. Guards rushed out to greet the dragon and her passengers, causing Albel to look at them and shout, “I need a healer!” Carefully, he loosened the straps holding the young man to the dragon and eased him down into waiting hands.

White garbed women bearing runological symbols met them with a stretcher and Fayt was placed on it. Albel was only a few steps behind the procession that hurried the teen into the castle and towards the healing ward. He would have gone into the treatment room as well, but he was stopped by one of the assistants.

“What?” he snapped at the young man.

“Forgive me, sir,” the man said to him, “but we can not allow you inside. If you could please take a seat. Your companion is in the best of care.”

Albel wanted to shove him out of his way and even looked about to do so. However, his concern for Fayt managed to stay his hand. With a growl, he turned and flung himself into one of the comfortable chairs nearby. In truth, he was weary. He'd spent several days doing naught but running himself ragged in his desperation to save the youth.

As he settled more into the seat, he found his eyes fluttering closed despite his attempts to keep awake. When the silence of the room held, there was nothing he could focus on. It wasn't long at all when his eyelids fell and remained that way.

"We've sutured his ankles and applied generous healing spells to them," came the voice of the attending healer. It managed to cut through the sleepy haze that had overtaken Albel. He lifted his head, bleary crimson eyes moving to the woman's kind face.

"And?"

She smiled. "He'll need to allow them time to rest, but things seem to be furthering along well. If he follows our orders to the letter, then he should have no trouble at all."

Albel unfolded his lean frame from the chair and rose quickly. "You're certain of this? The damage can be undone completely?"

"He'll have the scars from the ordeal," the healer said, her hand moving to rest on his upper arm. "But, his ability to walk won't be impaired. Within a few months, he should be able to continue as he's always been."

The commander looked at the door that separated him from the younger man, uncertain. Part of him wanted to see this for himself, to see Fayt healthy and with color again. He'd been so pale when they'd finally landed, that the swordsman had feared the worst. "When… when can I see him?"

"You can see him now if you wish," the older woman said gently. "However, he's still sedated from the herbal relaxant I gave him before treatment. His consciousness is balanced between cognizant and dreaming. I'll warn you, it's possible he won't remember anything you tell him."

With a nod, Albel pulled himself from her and walked to the door. He opened it quietly, peering into the room first, before stepping inside. Fayt lay on the large bed against one wall, not nearly so blanched as when he'd arrived. There was some hesitation before the commander moved closer until he finally stood at the side of the bed.

"I almost thought I'd lost you," Albel murmured to the slumbering form, his eyes heavy with shadows of the past. "Damn you for your kindness... damn you for your generosity... and damn you to Hell for making me want to keep you around me no matter what..."

He swallowed the lump in his throat, eyes still locked on Fayt's slack face. "I want to hate you for this... but I can't."

"Even if you could, Albel," Nel's voice murmured from the door, "it wouldn't change anything."

The swordsman whirled around, crimson gaze widening at the realization that he'd been caught unawares. Worse still, Nel Zelphyr had overheard him and his confession. He said nothing as she fully stepped into the room and took position next to him.

“Your feelings only mirror his,” the woman told him in a gentle voice. “He's wanted to mean more to you than just someone you'd shared the bed with.”

Albel snorted at that and looked anywhere but her or the silent form on the bed. “It was his connection to me that put him in this situation,” he said in a displeased tone.

“Had it not been you, it would have been someone else. You just happened to be convenient.” Nel looked up at Albel and, carefully, reached her hand to touch his arm. “Albel, he loves you. I know that word is the last thing that you ever want to hear, but it's the truth.”

“I never asked him to,” the swordsman told her.

She shook her head. “Love doesn't work that way. These feelings he has for you... I don't think they're a recent development. I believe they may have grown from the seeds of friendship that started a year ago.”

“That's absurd.”

“Emotions are hardly rational.” Nel turned towards him and pulled him so that he was looking more or less at her. “Albel, ask yourself these questions. Do you want to see him happy? Would you do anything to protect him? Were you afraid when you found him gone? Were you angry when you saw what they did to him?”

He said nothing as she walked towards the door to leave. “You're the only one who can answer those questions, Albel. Had he been in the same position as you, he would have done the same thing you did... though maybe not quite as extreme.” There was nothing more said as the woman left him alone with his thoughts and his unconscious lover.

* * *
Fayt woke him later that day. The swordsman had fallen asleep next to the teen's bed in a chair that had been brought to him by one of the healer's assistants. It was the initial movements that had brought Albel up first. The young man's soft sound of pain was what had him fully awake after.

“How do you feel?” Albel asked as he shifted closer to the bed.

The youth looked at him, his eyes unfocused. “Mmm... better than I did before, but that isn't saying a whole lot.” When it seemed pointless to try to look around, Fayt lay his head back against the pillow. “How long have I been out?” he asked, bringing a hand to his face.

“I'm not sure how long before,” Albel answered honestly, “but since we arrived in Aquios, probably about a half-day.”

“I'm afraid to ask this,” the youth said, shifting to look at the older man again, “but what did the healers say about... my tendons?”

Albel lifted his hand, placing his palm against the blue-haired youth's cheek. The gesture was extremely rare for him, more so than his other acts of affection. Gently, his callused thumb rasped against Fayt's cheek under one green eye. “So long as you do what she tells you, you'll be fine,” he answered in a low voice. “You'll have a couple of scars; but in a few months, you'll be as annoying as usual.”

The last of the sentence brought a chuckle from Fayt and he leaned into Albel's hand, his eyes falling closed. “I was afraid I wouldn't see you again,” the youth murmured.

“I had every reason to come take you back.”

Fayt opened his eyes again, looking at him. “I tried to tell them I wasn't your con-”

“I know,” Albel reassured the youth, interrupting his attempt at placating the man. “It's not something you should be worried about. You'll only prolong your recovery if you do.” He shook his head when the teen tried to say more.

“They wouldn't have believed you, anyway, Fayt. They'd already gotten what they thought was the truth from my servant.”

Fayt lifted his hand, the limb trembling, and covered the one against his cheek. “I kinda liked that guy. What a jerk.”

“That worm won't be a concern anymore once I get back to Kirlsa,” Albel told the younger man. “Not only was he a traitor, but a thief as well. He'll be punished for his part in this.”

“I guess he has it coming,” Fayt said softly, the words punctuated with a huge yawn.

Albel studied his lover intently at that. “I think the sedative is trying to pull you under again. Don't fight it. You'll heal faster while you're sleeping.”

“You won't leave me here alone, will you?”

“Don't get clingy,” the swordsman chastised Fayt, though his tone was far from normal compared to when he usually did so. “I've a few things I need to take care of before we return to Airyglyph.”

The younger man didn't let go of his hand just yet. “Promise?”

Albel sighed a little at that. “My word. Now, sleep or I'll knock you out myself.” When he was sure that he would be obeyed, the commander rose from his chair and slipped out of the room quietly.

His eyes cast about, until they fell on one of the healers he recognized and he caught her arm as she walked past him. “My... consort is sleeping again. I need to know how long it will be before he can be moved back to Airyglyph.”

The woman looked up at Albel and nodded. “I'll talk to his physician and see what she recommends.”

“Thank you,” Albel said before walking down the hall. He knew little about Aquios, truthfully. But, there were two things he did know for certain. The first was that Fayt would get excellent care just because of who he was and what he meant to these people.

The second was that if they believed he was Airyglyph nobility, too, that care would be upgraded to the best.

* * *
That first month of recovery was spent in Aquios. Fayt, thanks to the help of the healer's herbal draught, spent most of it sleeping. It was partly Albel's request. He knew that, if given a chance to remain awake, the young man would be pushing himself before he should.

When he was finally able to get the youth to Kirlsa, Albel assisted him in getting into the estate. It had, by this point, been repaired so no evidence of the kidnapping was visible to remind either man of what had happened. A new servant was also there waiting to attend them.

Albel, unwilling to take chances with Fayt's recovery, carried the young man up to the bedroom as soon as they arrived. He put him on the bed, being as careful as possible. “Stay put. I'm going to see about getting something for you to eat.”

“Albel, wait,” the youth said, catching his wrist before he got too far.

The swordsman looked down at the grip, then over at his lover with a raised eyebrow. “What?” he asked.

Fayt gave a tug to his wrist, trying to draw him closer. “This is the first time since you went to Peterny that we've had a chance to be alone...”

The young man was right, of course. In Aquios, healers had been running in and out of the room at most hours to ensure that Fayt would recover. Worse still, the few times they could have been alone, the young man was under the effects of the sedatives. True, it was at Albel's behest, however, it still made things one-sided at the time.

Albel moved closer to the bedside, looking down at the blue-haired man with unreadable eyes. “You should be resting,” he said, but the argument was a weak one.

“I've had a month to rest. I won't do anything to mess up my recovery,” he promised the older man. His green eyes regarded Albel uncertainly. “I just... wanted to spend some time with you.”

The swordsman settled on the edge of the bed, careful not to shift Fayt. “Idiot,” he said without heat or venom.

When Fayt realized that he wasn't leaving, he let his hand fall back to the bed and looked up at Albel's eyes. “What happened hasn't changed the fact that I want to stay here with you,” he told him.

Albel blinked at that, surprised. He was fairly certain that being put in such a dangerous, and painful, situation would have the younger man ready to pack up and leave Elicoor behind. “You were at risk because of me,” he said in a low voice. “Because they thought you could be used to seal my cooperation... that doesn't bother you at all?”

“I think it would have bothered me more if you did cooperate with them,” Fayt told him. “This is where I want to be, Albel.”

“Even if I don't feel the same about you as you do me?” He had to know. There was too much that Albel didn't understand. What was Fayt willing to do, or give up, to remain with him?

“If I get stupid and start thinking about the future, I might waver,” Fayt answered. “But, it's now that's important. You came for me. You even enlisted help to make sure that I'd get out. It says more about what you feel than you can with words. Just because you can't say it doesn't mean you don't feel something.”

He was right, again. Albel leaned over the youth, looking down at Fayt's face. “I'm possessive, jealous, rebellious, and arrogant... How can you care so much for such a person?” he finally asked the younger man.

“Because, those very traits also make you honest. Maybe not your words, but in your actions. You helped me, Albel... when we were friends, and again now, when there's more.” Fayt smiled up at him. “I know you better than anyone else.”

“You say, then, that I've proven with my actions that I do care for you in the same way?”

“Yes,” Fayt answered him with a nod. There was no hesitation when he spoke. No wavering in the voice or tone. He believed this, with no doubts. Albel saw that in his expression as well.

He closed his eyes. It was the answer that, in a sense, sealed everything. No one had ever believed in him so completely. Not since his father.

How could he not offer something back? Fayt was so generous, especially towards Albel. In truth, there wasn't much that the commander of the Black Brigade could give the youth.

But, there was one offering he could make. Something that would be of proportional importance. Something that Fayt would understand.

His silence stretched as he weighed this. If he wanted to be honest, no one else would mean as much to him as Fayt did. No one else could understand him nearly so well. Did he have the courage to follow through? Would he?

“Bind yourself to me, Fayt,” Albel said, his eyes still closed as he spoke. “Become my official consort.”

Hands rose to each side of his face, the skin warm as the palms caressed his cheeks. “Are you sure, Albel?” he heard the younger man ask.

He nodded. “It's the only thing I can offer. You don't need material things nor do you want them.”

“Which means you know me better than anyone else,” Fayt told him. Lips brushed against Albel's forehead, the brief touch pleasant. “I accept.”

The crimson eyes snapped open at that and the swordsman looked down at Fayt. There was only a full acceptance of what he was offering there, reflected fully in the green eyes. Albel could say nothing more, his surprise stealing his words. Instead, he gathered the younger man against him and held on.

Albel wasn't going to let go – ever.

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Continued in Epilogue