Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Night's End ❯ Chapter Four ( Chapter 4 )

Disclaimer: Weiß Kreuz and Weiß Kreuz Glühen belong to Project Weiß and whoever else has dibs on them now. I, certainly, am not one of those people, and do not claim to be. (Though it sure would warm up these cold winter nights! ^.~)

AN: Thanks to the wonderful reviewers!

YamiKitsune56: I have the same feeling of author-envy quite often, and I'm so glad I managed to inspire it in someone else! (I'm odd, sorry. :-P) Seriously, when I was writing this fic, originally for Nanowrimo, it just felt like it dragged terribly. Thank you for the encouragement.

Isawa: here's your update!

K-F-P: have you seen Cages by nekojita? If not, I highly recommend it! You think my word structure is good? O.o I was considering going back and thinning some of that down, but I guess I'll be talking to my beta again!

Lordofthering2040: As you can see from this chapter, the NC17 rating becomes more deserved as the fic goes on, so I won't be posting to FF.net. AFF.net, maybe, and perhaps Noire Sensus, but I don't trust FF.net that much anymore. Thanks for the kind words. *hugs*

Chapter Four

The prospective attendant was kneeling docilely on a rug in the middle of the floor when they reached Aya's suite, his flame-red head bowed to touch the soft nap and his hands flung palm-up before him.

Aya sent the prostrated form a single wary glance before heading for the bedchamber, refusing to even consider dealing with the advent of a new problem before remedying the previous one. Reiichi followed, pulling the light silk coverlets back so his master could more easily deposit his burden on the soft down mattress, but Aya did not attempt to remove the cloth that concealed his new Consort, saving that for a later time when he could savor the experience in peace. Instead he ran a fingertip lightly, contemplatively, down the boy's round cheek before turned his attention to more pressing matters: the worthiness of the youth in the next room for the role of Consort's Attendant.

The young human had not moved from his original position when Aya reentered the room. Reiichi bowed unobtrusively in the background and took his leave silently, not wishing to intrude on what would more than likely be a chilly affair. Aya had never been known for his great tact or compassion, but the death of his sister several years before had made him more taciturn and surly than ever and the possessive intimacy shown to the little Consort had been the most of any positive emotion that his servant had seen in a long while. There was, however, little chance that such affection would be directed at the rangy boy currently debasing himself on the rug. Indeed, Aya's face seemed already to be rearranging itself into its more familiar lines of abrasive temper. The manservant spared the boy a brief look of pity before exiting in search of some task to accomplish elsewhere.

Aya ignored his servant's unsubtle retreat and settled himself into his favorite chair and glared irascibly down at the slave. "What are you called, slave?"

The voice, muffled by the rug into which the boy's nose was pressed, was smoky and nasal but by no means unpleasant. "I am called Schuldig, master."

There was a pause as Aya pressed his shoulders further back into the chair, considering the name and rolling it silently on his tongue for a moment, tasting the syllables before finally coming to a decision. "It is well enough; you may keep it, for now. Come here, let me see your hands."

Schuldig obeyed without question, his rise from the hard floor so dexterous that Aya wondered how long he had actually spent kneeling. Surely the long interval between being brought up from the slave's quarters and his new master's arrival, if truly spent prostrated, would have left him stiff and ungainly? Even with the extra protection of the carpet? But the boy moved forward the few steps with the lithe grace of a cat and knelt, head bowed, between Aya's knees with his hands held out palm up.

Aya frowned briefly, reaching out and taking one long-fingered hand between both of his own. The palms and fingertips were slightly calloused, as was to be expected of one who spent his days in mild labor, but still relatively sensitive, twitching slightly when he pinched a small bit of flesh between his sharp nails. The knuckles were smooth, with no signs of the painful swelling that some of the human slaves developed in their joints, and bent easily when he curled the hand into a loose fist. The wrists, likewise, were slender and flexible and he squeezed them tightly in his hands just for the joy of feeling the delicate bones move under the skin. The redhead made a small, choked sound of pain in response, but did not move or complain. Such fragile things humans were, and yet so remarkably resilient. This one in particular, Aya reflected, might be interesting to observe, even if he turned out to be unfit for attending.

Finally, satisfied with the results of his examination and ready to move on, Aya released his grip on the slave and sat back in his chair.

"Stand and remove your tunic."

There was a pause, so minute that Aya had only time to recognize its existence before it was gone. Still, his eyes narrowed. Schuldig seemed to realise that a line had nearly been crossed, and stood, shifting from his knees to the balls of his feet then up by the strength of his lean thighs, and drew the tattered scrap he had been wearing over his head with no further show of defiance. The knee-length tunic was all the clothing the slaves were allowed and so there was nothing in the way of undergarments beneath the dingy material, just smooth skin so white as to be nearly transparent. His chest and flat stomach were flawless, unmarked, the muscles strong but not over-developed. His arms and shoulders, likewise, were unblemished and when he turned in a slow circle to display his back, that too was unmarked. Aya wondered idly what punishment had been used on the slave that had left no marks; surely, if he were as impetuous as had been intimated he would have been whipped or caned at some point in his life, and such correction always left evidence of some sort if administered properly. A curious suspicion rose to his mind, but he chose to ignore it for the time being in favor of more pressing questions.

"Very well, you may kneel once more. Don't bother dressing; that rag will have to be burned." When the boy had resumed his kneeling position between Aya's knees, Aya tilted his head to one side and surveyed the bowed head and straight shoulders closely. The body was well enough, and such striking red hair and green eyes would be invaluable later if he bred true. The breeding would have to be carefully scheduled, however, so that it did not interfere with his ability to perform his tasks.

"You will begin your duties when my Consort, your master, arises. You will be expected to be respectful and obedient, and should I discover that you have committed even the slightest infraction you will be whipped until you cannot stand. Do you understand, slave?"

The sun-touched head bobbed slightly, the response clear though the pale face was yet bowed and pointed toward the floor. "Yes, master. I hear and obey."

"One thing further. I have heard from my manservant that your overseer believes you to use foul language on occasion. There will be no such offences here; I will not have my Consort subjected to such things."

"Yes, master."

Aya sighed, leaning back in his chair. "You will call me 'my lord'; the boy lying in the next room is your master. You will answer to him in all but the things that I have just listed. Now, I believe that my manservant has laid out a suitable set of clothing for you, folded there on the chair beside the bedchamber door. Dress yourself."

***

It was only later, after Aya had declared an end to a long day and taken to the bed he now shared with his Consort, that Schuldig found answers for his restless mind.

They were kneeling, he and Reiichi, on the woven mats arranged in the center of the living area, the heap of clean unfolded linens lying between them on a pile of cushions and a smaller heap of mending lying in the manservant's lap. Schuldig knew that the wash maids always folded the linens before returning them to their owners but he didn't argue, feeling almost thankful for the mindless work to occupy his hands as his thoughts raced unchecked. Reiichi, in turn, seemed to recognize the almost desperate need for knowledge in the younger slave and obliged without complaint.

"What sort of man...being...is my lord? Will he be a tolerant master; a fair master?"

Reiichi shook his head, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he plied his needle through the frayed fabric of a stocking. "Fujimiya Aya is a jealous master, and a possessive one, but he will not punish without just cause if that is what you ask. He is always fair in his dealings, even with his slaves. But should you ever disobey, then you will find yourself wishing for death before he is satisfied; he does not tolerate disobedience, willful or not." A shrewd glance angled up to capture Schuldig's gaze. "I would be watchful of my tongue, if I were you, even when you are alone. The master has ways of knowing every offence that is ever committed, whether he was present or not. I have almost wondered on occasion whether he might not be psychic." One corner of the normally reserved manservant's mouth lifted in an ironic smile.

Schuldig shivered, rocking back on his heels and unconsciously tightening his grip on an article of clothing, wrinkling it. "I do not know if I can prevent it: the words spill out quickly, when I am angry or hurt. Once, I spilt tea while serving a master and his Consort. The Consort liked his tea to be served hot to scalding, and so when the liquid ran down my wrists and dripped on my bare feet I did not even notice the words that I spoke until I was being punished for them."

Reiichi paused his work and glanced up, startlement in the lines of his mouth. "You served a Consort?"

"No, no, not the Consort. The Consort had his own attendant, a small and delicate looking thing that wept at night when it did not think anyone would hear. Perhaps it's master never heard, but I certainly did, and it kept me awake for every night that I served them." Schuldig's nose wrinkled slightly at the memory. "I do not know what made it so unhappy. It's duties were few and light and it was doted upon by the Consort, given almost anything it's heart could have desired..."

"Save freedom." Reiichi interrupted, his tone dry. "You were born and raised in the slave's quarters, and you forget that not everyone was. There are some who yet recall the feeling of being their own master, and will never entirely resign themselves to anything else." A short silence fell, only to be broken after a few moments by the manservant's quiet voice. "How were you punished, that time when you spilt the tea?"

Schuldig sighed, cheeks still pink from the unexpected reprimand and growing still pinker at being asked to relate such humiliating things. "The master took me by the arm, tore my tunic from me and threw me to his manservant, telling him to take me somewhere out of sight and do as he liked with me. After, the master had me kneel before his Consort and beg forgiveness for my inexcusable behavior before sending me back to the slave's quarters in disgrace." The flame-red head shook at the memory, one hand rising to pat his left cheek in an odd habitual motion. "It was the same with every master, any time they wished to punish me. Unmarked slaves are rare, and no one wanted to be the first to lay scars upon me, so they would do that instead." A light shrug lifted slim shoulders, a seemingly careless gesture that was ruined by the convulsive shudder that ran the length of his spine. Despite his affected nonchalance, the pain of past humiliation obviously ate at him.

Reiichi nodded calmly, politely pretending not to see. "The master suspected as much when he saw you were unscarred." The mending dropped into his lap, unheeded, with the needle trailing from the fabric as he leant over and placed a comforting hand on the younger man's shoulder. "You must understand that that will never happen to you here. The master may occasionally demand use of your body, especially during his Consort's pregnancies, but it will never be used against you as a punishment."

Green eyes, sharp and suspicious, lifted as the smoky voice murmured caustically, "Oh? And how can you be so certain of that? Are you psychic as well?"

"It has always been true before. The master has never used sexual union against any slave, though he has sent a few of his own for breeding and will more than likely send you for the same at some point." The green eyes shut, pain showing clearly in the folds at their corners. "But I would not be so trusting if it were that and that alone. The patterns of the past can be fleeting, and one cannot always say that just because a thing has never happened before, it never will. I trust, because the master said as much to me as I dressed him: that despite what had occurred before he could not conscience using such methods against you again, even if it meant losing the worth of your flawlessness."

Schuldig smiled, the expression watery and still mostly disbelieving. "I will believe you, for now. I cannot claim to know you just yet, but you seem sincere and worthy of trust. And as your experience is far superior to mine in this area..." He shook his head, running his hands over the final piece of neatly folded wash and smoothing it. Reiichi pressed his shoulder gently before releasing it and straightening.

"You are likely weary; it has been a long and trying day for all of us and tomorrow will likely only be worse. It will be your duty to explain to your master what has befallen him and what his future will entail, and you must do so gently, considerately, lest you frighten the boy beyond endurance. You will need your rest and much patience."

"Where shall I sleep?"

"With me; there is another, smaller room on the left of the master's bedchamber. Both it and the cot inside it are large enough for two, and we shall be comfortable enough. When your master is ill or in the last days of a pregnancy you shall sleep at the foot of his bed, but otherwise you shall share with me." Standing and taking the folded wash from Schuldig's lap, Reiichi added the completed mending to the pile and placed it all on a chair beside the hearth. "I will put it away tomorrow, while the master is breakfasting. Come, let us ready for bed."