Chapter Text
Five years and seven months later
“It’s a healthy boy!” the doctor came out running of their bedchamber to notify the king and all the people who waited outside.
The man looked up excitedly at Victor, “The kingdom has an heir, Your Majesty.”
The people surrounding him let out a thankful sigh as their moved their hands in relief to make the sign of the cross. He felt Yakov clasp him on his shoulder, “Good job, Vitya. You must be a proud father now,” he exclaimed grinning.
Victor slapped the man’s hand away, giving him a cold stare as he went inside the room. He immediately heard the cry of a baby and Victor followed the noise only to stop in front of the crib. The boy seemed to notice his arrival as he opened his eyes to look up at him. Beautiful green eyes stared up at him. They were much clearer than Natasha’s and almost on the verge of turning blue just like his. He cradled the boy up in his arms as he tried to calm him down.
“Hush, there is no need to cry,” he tried to comfort this little human being in his arms as best as he could but everyone who knew Victor also knew that he sucked at the whole comforting thing. “There, there. I’m here now,” he whispered as he swayed the boy gently in his arms, “Your father will take care of you.” The crying slowly started to cease and Victor rubbed the little one’s small tummy, “Your father is here now.” The boy started to giggle as he grabbed his finger, looking happily at him. Victor felt himself melting as a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. The first smile after years and it was all thanks to this little creature in his arms. Now it was Victor who wanted to cry.
“It’s not good to make your father cry you now?” he scolded him softly with an unsure smile
He slowly walked over to the bed where Natasha was lying, body drenched in sweat.
“Do you want to hold him?” he carefully asked, never taking his eyes away from the smiling boy. Natasha shook her head, “I need to rest,” she waved him aside, “He already did enough to my body.” Victor pressed his lips together as he narrowed his eyes on her. She was the one who gave birth. He wouldn’t lash out on her. “What do you want to name him?”
Natasha looked up at him, clicking her tongue, “Victor, I really need to rest. You can choose a name for him if you want.”
Victor ignored his annoyance for the sake to walk away, “Let’s take you to bed,” he spoke softly to the boy and went away to the former study room which was turned into a child’s room soon after they found out about the pregnancy. Natasha was strict against the idea, saying that she would need the sleep and not a child keeping her awake but Victor said that he would take care of their baby if she wasn’t willing to do it at night. That seemed to change her mind about the room pretty quickly.
“What name would suit you the best?” he sing-songed as he paced around the room. The boy giggled in his arms, trying to reach out for his face. Well, he didn’t really await a response. Victor rolled a couple of names around on his tongue but not a single one was good enough. Victor sighed, “Why is it so difficult? It’s just a name,” he pouted.
The boy let out a gurgle sound as saliva dripped down his chin. Victor wiped it away carefully with the hem of his shirt and suddenly he got it. The perfect name.
“Lev!” he shouted excited, “Are you a Lev?”
The boy smiled and made some noises. Victor took it as approval.
“You’re my little Lev,” he whispered as he kissed his forehead, “Strong and brave as a lion.”
Victor didn’t let go of his son for hours, even when the little boy fell asleep in his arms. He wanted to stay close to him just for a little while more.
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Six years and five months later
Sayo, the little daughter of one of the many servants, walked through the corridors of the big castle, running after her mother until they reached the garden. The little girl took the sight in with awe as she watched everything with wide eyes and an open mouth. It was the most beautiful place she ever saw. There were flowers everywhere, flowers of different kinds and a paved way stretched itself through the green scenery, surrounded with big old trees. She loved the garden immediately which looked as if it was a place plucked out right from fairy tale.
Sayo was a big girl though and the garden was not the reason she was here. No matter how beautiful it might be. She helped her mother to spread the bedsheets out on the ground, preparing themselves to hang them all up to let them dry in the warm sun. And it was then that Sayo asked herself why a king would need so many bed sheets. As she worked diligently alongside her mother, who praised her every time she helped to reduce the workload, the little girl suddenly saw a man in the garden. A man with short silver locks and a crown upon his head as he stood underneath an old oak, hiding from the summer day in the shadows.
“Mum?” She called out, wonder clearly written across the little girl’s face, “Mum, That man—“
Before she could finish her sentence her mother tugged her gently down to sit on the mountain of the white clothes, already aware where her gaze strayed off to. She pressed her forefinger against her daughter’s lips, “We don’t ask or talk about our king,” she declared with emphasis.
“Why?” the little girl asked as she tilted her head in genuine curiosity.
Her gaze strayed one more time to the person with the crimson full-length coat and to her surprise their gazes locked as icy blue eyes watched her without any emotions in them. Sayo shyly waved at the man, smiling with flushed cheeks as she tried to hide away her anxiousness. The man just curtly bowed at her before turning around, leaving as his expression stayed as indifferent as it was in the beginning.
“That’s our king, sweetie. You were very lucky to have caught a brief glimpse of him,” her mother told her truthfully as she patted her head.
“Our majesty didn’t even smile at me,” she stated dejectedly, tears welling up in her eyes, “Does he already hate me?”
Her mother just shook her head, “No, Sayo. He doesn’t. He just doesn’t smile like he used to do.”
“Why?”
Her mother sighed, letting herself fall into the pile of washed sheets, “I don’t know. Many say that it was because he lost a person who was dear to him,” she turned around to cup her daughters face, “I don’t know but whatever it is let us pray for the king’s happiness.”
Sayo just nodded, wishing for their lonely king to find his smile again.
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Nine years later
“Papa! Papa!” Lev called excitedly, “Look what grandpa Yakov taught me to do.”
Victor looked up from his paper work as he took in the sight of his son grinning up at him while holding a flower crown in his hands, “Isn’t it pretty?”
The corner of Victor’s mouth slowly rose to a small private smile, “Very.”
Lev ran to his father and made him bow to tug away the crown and replace it with the flowers instead.
“Does it suit me?” Victor asked, feeling hesitantly the petals of the flowers on his head.
“Very much!”
Suddenly the small boy frowned, “I made one for Natasha too but I can’t find her.”
“Didn’t I tell you to call her mama?”
Lev pouted, pursing his lips, “You did but every time I do she gets angry. She says that it makes her sound old,” he explained.
“Alright,” Victor said as he stood up to heave his son up, “Let’s look for her together.”
Lev gave a bright grin, nodding eagerly, “Let’s!”
They spend the rest of the evening trying to find Natasha. The castle was big after all and she was apparently good at hiding herself. “Do you want to give her the flower crown that badly?” Victor ended up asking after two hours of unsuccessful searching. His son nodded. “Why? We can give it to her tomorrow.”
“But Natasha is angry at me,” he started to sound close to tears, “I accidently destroyed one of her dresses by making it dirty with mud and she…” he cut off mid-sentence as tears started to flow down his cheeks.
Victor hummed nonchalantly but inside he was slowly feeling dread brewing in his stomach, “Rybka, did she do something to you after that?”
Lev bit his lips, unsure of what to say, “She told me not to tell anyone. She made me promise. I don’t break promises, Papa.”
“That’s really honourable of you but don’t you think that you can make an exception? I’m your father after all.”
Lev looked away, seeming to think very hard about his decision, “Okay, but only because you’re my Papa and you need to promise not to tell!”
Victor flashed a smile, one which didn’t reach his eyes, “Of course. I promise.”
That seemed to be enough encouragement for Lev to tell him the truth about what happened afterwards and as his son talked, Victor needed every bit of self-control to not let his anger take over him. “She slapped you?” Victor repeated. Lev seemed a bit nervous at the cold tone but nodded.
“Was this the first time?”
His son looked to the ground. He looked uncertain to open his mouth again but for Victor the silence was a good enough answer. He hugged his son tighter against his chest, “Let’s look for Natasha in her room again, shall we?”
Without waiting for an answer, Victor practically ran to their bedchamber. There were usually guards positioned in front of their door but for some reason there weren’t any today. Victor opened the door and as he stepped inside he froze. He could hear lewd moans resound loudly, mixing with the groans of two males.
Victor pressed his palms against his son’s ears, whispering closely to the boy to go and tell the first guards he finds that he called for them and that Lev couldn’t enter this room for today. Lev seemed confused but nodded and ran outside.
At least he knew why the guards weren’t at their posts, he thought coldly. Victor walked through the small corridor until he stepped closer to the bed. There he saw Natasha, enjoying herself while spreading her legs for two young men. She moaned loudly as the men penetrated her from behind, their amour on the floor. Funnily enough, Victor didn’t even feel anything at the sight of his wife betraying him in their bed. Victor clenched his fist and slammed it against the wall. Suddenly everything went silent as they turned their heads to look at the king. Natasha went white as a ghost and the two guards stilled, eyes wide.
“I-I thought that y-you needed to w-work,” she stammered, pulling the blanket on the bed over her body. Victor flashed a cold smile that sent shivers down their spines, “Work? What has my work got to do with you fucking some other guys?”
“That’s not what it looks like!” Natasha hastily tried to explain, trying to hide more of herself with the blanket.
“Oh? Is that so? I find it hard to believe, dear.”
The guards quickly stood up, grabbing for their armour, “Y-Your Majesty! W-We will go.”
Victor blocked their way with his arm, “No, You won’t,” he replied with the sweetest voice possible, eyes filled with disgust.
Soon five other guards ran into his room, “Your Majesty? You called for u-“ they went silent as they saw what was happening. “Yes,” Victor nodded, not bothering to look at them, “Hang them.”
Nobody moved at the order, shocked and unsure if the king really wanted to let his own wife be executed.
“E-Excuse me?” one of the men bravely asked.
“Hang the three of them,” Victor repeated, “I want to see every one of them dead by tomorrow morning.”
Natasha was the first to move as she jumped up from the bed, sprinting up to Victor, “You can’t!” she shouted, “Victor! Lev needs me! I’m his mother!”
“A mother wouldn’t hit her own son,” he whispered with a dangerous edge in his voice, grabbing her chin forcefully between his two fingers, “I won’t let another person hurt someone dear to me. Not again.”
The guards moved then, pinning every one of them to the ground as they twisted their hands behind their backs. They kept their struggling under control as the five men heaved them up to their legs again, trying to lead them away.
Natasha screamed and kicked until she freed herself, running up to Victor and slapping him across the face, “You hypocrite! You only slept with me until I was pregnant and after that you didn’t even touch me! Every time we had sex you called the name of that fucking whore of yours!”
One of his men grabbed Natasha behind her back, heaving her up and tugging her out of the room for good.
Victor could hear Natasha scream his name even after she was led away. Suddenly he felt very tired. Was that what his kingdom had wished him? Was that the future they always had in mind for him? He felt too numb to cry. He just wanted to sleep but he couldn’t even lie down on his own bed anymore. He just wanted to see Yuuri again. To hold the boy in his arms and to hear the lovely hum of the lullaby Yuuri’s mother used to sing for him. Victor just wanted to hear Yuuri’s voice calling him by his name.
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Nine years and one month later
“Yuuri!” Victor shouted as he ran after him, laughing and giggling just like the boy in front of him did.
“You’re slow! Are you getting old?” Yuuri shouted back as he took a turn to the right, running into the maze, “Victor you’re never going to catch me with your turtle pace!”
Victor dramatically feigned to be hurt, muttering loudly how cruel Yuuri was and for a moment the boy hesitated, turning around to see if it was just an act or if he really hurt his beloved one. The king used the moment to lunge himself at him and tackled them both down on the grass.
“You’re horrible,” Yuuri giggled, gently punching his chest “I trusted you!”
Victor used the opportunity to look him in the eyes, in his beautiful cinnamon coloured vast eyes. The boy was so breathtakingly beautiful and his heart fluttered inside his chest, ready to escape and fly towards the boy and Victor would let it. He always would.
“Horrible and yours,” he grinned and enjoyed the melodic laugh which Yuuri escaped.
God he was so perfect, Victor silently thought. He leaned down to kiss the boy softly on his plush lips, enjoying the tingling sensation he felt. He broke off much too soon for his liking but he wanted to look at Yuuri. Look at how beautiful this perfect human in his arms was.
Soon Yuuri fluttered his eyes open and curiously stared up at him through his long lashes, “Is something wrong, Vitya?” For some reason he missed to hear the sound of his own name coming from Yuuri but he didn’t know why. He heard it every day, didn’t he?
He suddenly felt like crying but he didn’t know why. His heart hurt so, so much. Maybe it was really trying to jump out of his chest. He could feel it screaming, trying desperately to reach for Yuuri. “I’m the luckiest man alive, getting to have you by my side,” Victor croaked out, nuzzling against the boy’s chest, “Don’t leave me, Yuratchka” he muttered though muffled words, “Please, don’t leave me.”
He could feel how Yuuri started to stroke his hair in a comforting manner, “I would never do that, Vitya,” he reassured him, kissing the crown of his head.
Victor’s body shook with tears which were spilling down his eyes. He hugged the boy closer against his body, never wanting to let him go again. His vision turned blurry as the touches of Yuuri became more distant. He felt his vision going black as he tried to hold on to the boy who slowly but surely slipped through his arms.
“PAPA!”
He was suddenly awake.
“Papa you’re crying!” Lev cried out beside him, shaking him awake as he formed the words with difficulty.
Victor touched his cheeks only to find that there were wet, “I’m sorry, rybka. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said as he reached out to hug his son against his chest.
“I’m sorry,” he sobbed, tears still falling down his cheeks, “I’m sorry.”
He hugged Lev tighter, “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
The small boy hugged him back.
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Ten years and eleven months later
“Your Majesty, the time has come.”
Victor nodded in understanding and dismissed the servant with a curt hand movement.
“Papa? Is something wrong?” Lev asked, tilting his head in curiosity.
Victor looked down at his son, eyes filled with grief, “Do you remember what I told you about uncle Yakov?” he began as he squatted down to pat his head.
Lev nodded, “You said that he was ill and that we can’t see him until he recovers.”
“That’s right, rybka. But it seems that grandpa Yakov wants to see us now.”
Lev’s green eyes shone brightly, “Is he finally feeling better again?”
Victor heaved his son up in his arms, kissing the crown of his head, “Sadly, he isn’t.”
Lev nuzzled his head against his father’s collar and Victor carried him until they reached the older man’s bedchamber.
The guards bowed at their arrival and opened the door for them, letting them step into the quiet room. The curtains were drawn together, darkness taking over the room and casting a heavy atmosphere. Victor could hear the faint sound of heavy breathing as he stepped closer to the bed. Yakov laid motionless under the white blanket, eyes closed. His breath was ragged and he seemed so much older than he was.
“Grandpa?” Lev quietly called out to him, freeing himself from his father’s grip in favour to kneel down beside his beloved family member.
The older man’s eyelids fluttered slowly open before a strained smile appeared on his face. The older man reached with a trembling hand for his nephew, cupping his smiling face, “You’re here,” he muttered faintly.
Lev nodded, not understanding why his grandpa looked so tired. He slept a lot, right? After his naps he would usually always bounce around, filled with new energy.
“Are you still ill, grandpa? I can come back later when you feel better.”
“No,” Yakov shook his head, “Stay here. Please.”
Lev gladly followed his grandpa’s plea and dove under the blanket, nuzzling against the older man’s chest but Yakov immediately started to cough at the action.
Lev started to panic, apologising numerous of times but before he could move away again, the wrinkly hand of his grandpa started to rub his back in a soothing way and Lev relaxed happily, staying put where he was. Victor stood there, face expressionless as he looked at the old man. The room was filled with silence only disturbed with the heavy breathing and coughing of his uncle.
“I’m sorry for taking Yuuri away from you,” he suddenly started, weakly turning his head to look directly at Victor, “I thought that I did the right thing but watching you all these years I know that I didn’t. I thought only about the kingdom and never about you.” Victor closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. “God, your father would be furious with me. I wish that I could turn the time back and decide differently…” he trailed off, gathering strength for the next words, “…but sadly it’s not something a human being can do. I prayed for the gods to do it in my stead but my pleas went unheeded. I-I’m sorry, Vitya.” Victor stared at the man in front of him before kneeling slowly down beside his bed and taking a hold of his cold hand, “I forgive you,” he whispered as a he could feel a lump forming in his throat, “I forgive you, uncle” he repeated as he squeezed his hand tighter. Yakov gave him a shaky smile, “Thank you,” he croaked out, “That means a lot to me.” They stayed in the position for a long time, neither of them moving.
“I’m tired,” the older man suddenly admitted and Victor rubbed his knuckles in a comforting manner. “I know,” Victor smiled sadly, “It’s okay, Yakov. You did enough. You can get your well-deserved sleep now.” Yakov smiled warmly at him. He looked back at the ceiling before he closed his eyes one more time, “Thank you, Vitya. For forgiving me.” The room grew silent as the ragged breathing stopped. His hand went limp in Victor’s clutch but Victor didn’t let go. His body started to tremble as big tears rolled down his cheeks, “Goodnight, uncle,” he whispered.
“Papa?” Lev started to speak, terror in his voice, “Grandpa’s chest doesn’t move anymore!”
“I know, rybka,” Lev tried to shake his grandpa awake and grew more desperate as he didn’t even stir, “I think something is wrong, Papa,” He looked at his father with tears in his big eyes. Victor let go of Yakov’s hand. He tried to heave his son up but the little boy refused, not wanting to let go of his grandpa. “H-He is dead, zaichik,” Victor finally explained, trying to unsuccessfully wipe away the falling tears, “He is in a better place now.”
“But… he is right here.”
Victor let out a broken laugh, “His body may be but his soul isn’t anymore. Your grandpa will sleep and not wake up anymore.”
Lev finally loosened the grip on Yakov and Victor hugged the little boy against himself. “I don’t understand,” the boy mumbled and Victor rubbed his back just like Yakov did mere minutes ago. “Don’t worry. One day you will.”