Archive of Our Own

"Ouch. Urgh. Not again." The cute guy that landed on top of Mikhail rubs his head and shifts so he can sit up properly. "I am so tired of this. You'd think my legs are just for show, Babe."

Babe? Mik raises an eyebrow. He's used to hot guys calling him cute names; he is cute after all. But this is new. Usually they've been in bed first. Or up a wall in a back street in one instance.

Cute Guy rubs his head again and attempts to get up. He stumbles in the snow and Mik is on his feet instantly, grabbing Cute Guy's arm to steady him.

"Thanks, Babe. You're so good to me, don't know what I'd do without you," Cute Guy says and moves in for a kiss.

Mik is too stunned to react before Cute Guy's lips are on his.

Turns out that Cute Guy isn't only cute, but also a good kisser.

"Are you sure you are fine?" Mik manages, not entirely ready to have a man kiss him that he has never met before. It's not that he minds, the guy really is cute, what with eyepatch and the slightly messy dark grey hair. Not to mention the open coat that leaves a nice peek to a strong chest that Mik on any other day would love to touch. He does, however, prefer that the guy he's with is both safe, sane and also in a state where he does not think that Mik is someone that he is certainly not.

"I'm fine. You know me, Darling. Always accident prone. I guess it's destiny's way of levelling the field. You can't be as powerful as I am without everything else being taken down a notch. It would be unfair to everybody else." Cute Guy grins and brushes snow off his armour.

Apparently Cute Guy has hit his head harder than Mik initially thought. Somewhat distracted by the absurdity of the situation, Mik attempts to rid himself of the snow that tries to get underneath his coat and at the same time hold on to Cute Guy. If he let go, Cute Guy surely will fall over. Mik is usually not the caring type, but it would be a shame if Cute Guy got hurt again.

"Oh, sweetheart! You're soaked through." Cute Guy looks at Mik and at Mik's clothes. Mik agrees with the assessment, seeing that slushy cold water is already seeping into his pants. With Tantal's frosty weather, it is not a pleasant feeling. More steady on his feet, Cute Guy looks around. It's a busy street. Tantal is on the rise after the war against Indol, and there sure is enough to look at.

"Come on," Cute Guy demands, sliding his arm around Mik's waist. "We need to get you some dry clothes."

"Wait, but—" For once Mik is unable to comprehend what is going on around him. He was on his back in the street, and now some man is dragging him Architect knows where.

"Later. Dress first. Kiss later."

There are no brakes on Cute Guy. Mik considers pulling out of the hold, but if Cute Guy—who may be perpetually clumsy—falls over again, who knows what could happen? Mik does not want to cause serious harm. Besides, no harm in seeing where this leads, really. The least he can do is to let Cute Guy do what he wants, then help him back to his home or family or whatever Cute Guy is saddled with. If that's his thing. It's not Mik's, but each to their own.

With Cute Guy's arm around his waist still, they walk across the street, up a flight of stairs to a level of the city that Mik knows has the best and most expensive tailors in Alrest. He is not denying himself anything, but the artisans here? Next level. The whole Core Crystal tourism thing has boosted Tantal's economy. From being in rags, Tantal is in riches.

If at least they would turn on the Ether furnaces in the streets again so it wasn't so damned cold. But all right, the Titan is old, and they do need to keep it alive. Harvesting vast amounts of Ether is not conductive to that. Mik assumes that the eternal winter is what pulls tourists in these days.

They walk along the row of shops. People step aside when they pass. Most bow reverently. Mik looks at them in confusion. Maybe it's how people react when you go to the luxury shops up here? Like people know that customers have to be up the social ladder and therefore are due this kind of humble politeness? Anyway, how would he know? Mik is not poor, but this part of town is for the select few. He likes to look stunning, but he does not need expensive clothes to be a full 10.

"Here." Cute Guy steps up to a storefront. "In we go, Darling. You will look gorgeous in anything they have."

Cute Guy himself is modestly dressed in black—some armour, some leather. How he would know anything about dressing finely is a riddle. But Cute Guy carries himself with confidence and the shopkeeper greets him like he has been here before with a polite 'My Lord' that denotes a rank that Cute Guy obviously does not possess. But business is business. Sucking up to customers is an art form.

Mik knows he should stop the charade, clear up the confusion, and hop along, forgetting everything about Cute Guy and their little mishap.

Only Mik isn't always doing the right thing. He tries. Today? His curiosity wins. He will pay for the clothes when they are done, though. Even if he has to run some of Malos's more unsavoury errands to be able to afford them.

Cute Guy watches as Mik is led into the shop and has a variety of luxury items presented to him. There's a Snowdol Bunnit-lined coat. A tight jacket made out of blue silk the exact colour of Mik's eyes. There's a pair of trousers so tight that Mik cannot breathe as he tries to close them. The gasp and slight cough Cute Guy lets out make Mik decide in favour of not being able to breathe. Breathing is for amateurs. His boots, barely adequate for the cold Tantalese climate, are exchanged for a pair of fur-lined Anlood leather boots, so warm that Mik's feet—had they been able to sigh in pleasure—sigh in pleasure.

"Jewellery," Cute Guy says as he turns Mik's hand in his. "You forgot your ring."

"I. No." This time Mik knows he has to put his foot down, fur-clad or not. "I can't—"

"Pfft. You need to look your best, my love. Nothing is too good for you. Let me pamper you, just a little."

The shopkeeper clearly only answers to Cute Guy. He ignores Mik entirely and brings out cases upon cases of glittering gold and precious gems and stones.

"This one." Cute Guy picks out a ring with a stone the size of the Urayan Mountains.

"It's not real, right?" Mik whispers. "I can't—"

"Not real? I would never! I would not let the man I love wear anything that isn't made with the most precious metals and stones!" Cute Guy makes a dramatic gesture that makes Mik envious. Clearly, he is not the only one who can and will play appearances to the max.

"And this one. There." Cute Guy grabs one of the rings. He puts it on Mik's finger. It is a gorgeous ring. If it is not fake, Mik suspects it costs more than his house. He can't take it, of course. He'll be in debt for the rest of his life.

He does not get the chance to refuse it because Cute Guy decides that his right hand and wrist need to be adorned with bracelets and more rings. It's futile to resist.

Mik knows he looks good. On a bad day he's an average 10, on good days, he crushes the scale. He knows of exactly one man who is better looking than he is, and basically anybody else is not even in the same universe as Malos in the looks department.

Looking in the mirror, Mik can give even Malos a run for his money. "Wow," he whispers, having no words for how amazingly, blindingly good he looks.

"Didn't take you for your looks," Cute Guy states. "But Architect's tits, you look delectable."

"Listen, I can't. There is no way I can take all this. Please? I need to give it back."

Mik is not a nice guy. No one who is friends with Malos is; they'd not be able to handle so much arseholeness in one package if they were nice. Then again, no one running sabotage against Indol, and besides that a thriving black market operation, would survive if being 'nice' was their goal. This is, however, a level of arsehattery that Mik does not like. Any other day, no problem. Not today. Guy's lost his memory or whatever it is that's going on. And he's cute. Mik cannot. Just for once, he'd like to be the good guy.

Mik closes his eyes to the amount of gold that changes hands when Cute Guy pays for his new outfit.

When he opens them, Cute Guy's face is a hair's width away from his.

Architect, the guy can kiss.

Stunned into silence once again, Mik can only follow when Cute Guy pulls him out of the door and into the cold—a cold that he welcomes. It feels like his entire body is on fire.

Mik stumbles and has to hold on to Cute Guy to keep upright.

Cute Guy laughs. "No more of that. You look too good in these clothes, let's not ruin them. I don't think we can manage another change before our appointment."

"Our appointment?" Mik almost cries. "What appointment?" He runs his free hand through his hair, barely avoiding his usual toss and wink as Cute Guy looks up at him with so much hunger.

"You're hilarious. That's why I love you. Don't tease me, Babe. Come on, we need to fetch Nia and Rex on the way."

"Nia and Rex?"

"You met them. Stop teasing me. Not when I am already a little dizzy. Out of love, of course, not because I hit my head. They are with Pandoria and Corvin."

"Oh. Right. Um." The names ring a bell, but Mik is not sure who these people are.

"Are you certain you did not hit your head, too?" Cute Guy looks worried for a moment, a slight frown on his brow. "Pandoria is so happy that Rex is here; she can use more time with Corvin. It's a little sad that he has to be away so much, but that is how it is when you fall for a war hero's Blade."

"That is… right?" Mik's brain is working overtime. Rex, Nia, Corvin, Pandoria? He is slowly connecting the dots. He breathes in deeply and sighs. If it is as he thinks, this is wild. Rex, the war hero and Nia, his friend and comrade. Corvin, one of his Blades. Pandoria, the Blade of the Crown Prince of Tantal, a war hero in her own right.

Shit.

Cute Guy sure keeps company from the upper shelves.

Mik is at a loss of what to do. He cannot in good conscience continue the charade. On top of that, he is worried that Cute Guy is hurt for real. And since days when Mik worries about other people are as rare as Unique Monsters, he sort of wants to act on it. As long as it doesn't become a habit. He may also like Cute Guy a little.

Mik needs Cute Guy's friends to help disentangle this mess. Someone who knows him needs to make sure that Cute Guy is getting proper medical help. If a handful of Alrest heroes cannot, then no one can.

Time to play along, then.

Mik turns up his charm to a level 100, knowing how devastating he can be when he wants to. "Darling, tell me again what time we need to be there. When was it we were to meet Rex and Nia?" He slides his bejewelled hand into Cute Guy's large fist. It's calloused. So not a nobleman or clergy, then. The armour and the sword on his back are well made. Better than what a common soldier would have, but these days no one knows. Could be spoils from the war. The money could be from found treasure chests as well.

Again, who knows? There are so many ways to earn a living during a war. Some of them do not do well in the light of day. Mik would attest to that.

"I'm sorry," Mik tells Cute Guy. "I seem to be forgetful today." He squeezes Cute Guy's hand and caresses it. "You're so good to me, I can't think of anything else."

"Of course. The bright flame of our love burns so clearly that common sense disappears in its fiery embrace!" Cute Guy exclaims as he puffs out his chest, something that does little to make Mik think more clearly. "But I shall lead you to your destiny!"

Awfully nice of Cute Guy, but Mik would really like to find out what that destiny is before they go any further. "Rex and Nia?" he attempts, hoping he'll get at least a little bit of useful information out of it.

"Damn it. We need to be at the palace in ten minutes." Cute Guy glares at the town square's clock as if it would lend him more time. "Well. Nia and Rex are at Anastatia's. Come on."

The palace? Well, why not? This is becoming more and more absurd. What in the downfall of Indol and all its evils are they going to do at Theoscaldia Palace?

Mik is not left any breather to think about it. With a firm grip on his hand, Cute Guy starts toward the place where the castle spires raise up into the sky. He stops for nobody, disregarding the slippery slopes of ice and slush that are streets of the Tantalese capital.

They turn a corner when a Gormotti girl waves at them.

"Hey, Shellhead!"

Cute Guy stops. "Hello, Nia. Where are the others?"

"On their way. You're late. Who's—"

Mik takes a step back. He shakes his head, a finger on his lips.

The girl is small and cute and Mik stops himself from winking and sending her a wide and charming smile out of habit. She is far from the average girl. She helped win the war. There is no trying to fool her.

Explain later he mouths, hoping she'll get it.

Her eyes narrow.

"Good to see you again, Nia," Mik attempts, hoping that Cute Guy thinks they have met before. Mik leans down, risking a brief whisper. "He fell on his head. He thinks I'm his boyfriend. Didn't know where to send him. Played along. He could be hurt, really hurt. Name's Mik." He stands up straight, turning to Cute Guy.

"Right. Shellhead, you do look a little frazzled," Nia says. "Someone dropped you on your head? Again."

"As it happened, the mighty has fallen. I got up unscathed, thanks to my beloved. I was so rude as to fall on him. If I wasn't already in love with him, that surely would have made me fall for him instantly." There is a pause. "Hey! That was mean!"

"So, Mik," Nia says pointedly, ignoring Cute Guy's justified, if late, outrage. "He saved you? I mean, there is no way any more screws can come loose in there, but who would we be to make assumptions?"

"Aw, thanks," Cute Guy exclaims and pouts. "Your care for me is astounding."

"We're used to you by now. We'd miss you. Anyway—" Nia looks pointedly at Mik. "We should be away to your father's. Right, Mik?"

"Yes, to your father's." Mik can't really contradict Nia, since he has no idea what is going on. He begins to think his reality is as warped as Cute Guy's. "We are in a hurry. Ten minutes left," he adds, because that part, at least, is true.

Ten minutes, one castle, and a father. Not much to go by. With the people meeting up with them, it can be anything. They meet in public, so it's not an undercover operation of some kind. Casual. Sounds like two of the Blades are seeing each other. Definitely not state secrets.

Maybe Cute Guy's father is a public servant? Some high ranking politician or a leader in the Tantalese army? That would make sense, seeing Cute Guy's getup and the gaggle of war heroes.

This should be interesting.

Without waiting for the rest of the party, they walk briskly through the streets. They reach the palace in minutes. It's a small city. Mik looks up at the monumental building before him. He is used to the elegance and grandeur of Indol, now little more than a pile of rubble. Tantalese architecture is beautiful in a different way, both utilitarian and advanced at the same time. Robust in a way that Indol was not.

At the end of the stairs two guards bow deeply to them, standing aside immediately. Maybe it's that Nia girl who makes an impression. She's downright scary, in Mik's opinion and he does not scare easily.

They walk through a vast hall. Braziers heat it up to a tolerable point and Mik sighs in pleasure. He opens his coat to let in the blessed warmth.

"Not too long now, my darling." Cute Guy reaches for Mik's hand again. He falters, misses, and lets out a pained sound. "Urgh!"

Mik reacts fast. He catches Cute Guy before he falls, holding him tight in his arms. Cute Guy's eyes are closed, mouth open, body slack. "Hey? Hey?" Truly worried, Mik turns to Nia. "What should I do?"

"Ah, it's Shellhead. He'll be fine." Nia shrugs, like it's nothing to her.

"But… he's—" Mik doesn't like it. He likes Cute Guy, Shellhead, whatever his name is. "He's hurt! Do something!" It's not that he minds holding a guy in his arms, especially not a cute one like this. But again, he prefers them in a state where they know what they are doing, and that is not the case here.

"Ow. My head. That felt awful." Cute Guy comes to. He gasps and frowns. "Babe?"

"I'm here," Mik says, gently caressing Cute Guy's face. "Are you all right? You went out like a light there for a little. Don't scare me like that, you hear." It hits Mik like a hammer: it's not a lie. He is worried, really worried. He does not like to see Cute Guy in pain. It's disconcerting. He has not felt like that since… since his childhood. Oh, he cares about his friends, but not… not like that. "Babe, speak to me."

Slowly getting on his feet again, Cute Guy attempts to stand on his own. He opens his eyes, and there's a clarity in them that wasn't there before. "Babe?" There's a pause. "I know you. I know who you are."

"Uh-oh," Nia says. "Back in a minute, Mikhail. Have fun."

Mikhail? Mik did not tell Nia his full name. That means—

Cute Guy straightens up, standing almost as tall as Mik. "Mikhail. Malos's captain. Well, well, well."

"Whops?" Rendered close to speechless, Mik attempts to kick his brain into action, think up some solution that won't end him in jail. He can't muster one bit of his usual charm to help him get out of a very weird situation.

"Oh, but this is perfect timing. No, don't bother. Everything is coming back to me now. Just adjusting. You—" he slides an arm around Mik's waist, with the one finger poking him in the chest. "You pretended to be my—"

"Did not! You fell and when you woke up, you thought I was… yours. I was trying to get you help. Ask her. Nia. I did not try to fool you."

"Let's say you didn't. I am inclined to believe you; you did not want me to buy you jewellery even when you had the chance to take everything the shop had in store. You could easily have taken me for a fortune. You did not. Very… not you."

"You don't know me," Mik hisses, exasperated. He clings with one hand to Cute Guy's coat, pulling it aside slightly. He gasps at the sight of black lines surrounding a shard of a Core Crystal.

"You're a… Blade Eater?"

That couldn't be? There was no other. Only him. And Amalthus, but he was burning in Hell. Hopefully.

"Does it matter? Now you know what I am, just as I know what you are." Cute Guy shrugs, as if having Blade cells fused with your human body was nothing.

"And what am I?"

A grin that Mik does not appreciate one bit spreads on Cute Guy's lips. "In about five minutes you are my fiancé."

"I'm what?" Mik can't. He just can't. This is too much. This can't be real. It has to be a dream.

"You did such a great job, pretending. Now pretend a little longer, and I'll be lenient and not let justice rain down on you like, um, justice!"

"What are you playing at? Are you some kind of imbecile?"

"You should kiss me again, Babe. I like you better when there are no words coming out of your mouth. Like when you speak." Cute Guy is notably less cute, but way hotter when he gets all bossy.

"I am not your baby, could we not," Mik tries, somewhat distracted by their close embrace. "Why continue this charade? To humiliate me?" If there is something Mik does not like, it's humiliation. It cramps his style, and he will take none of it.

"No, to—" Cute Guy stops. "Okay, listen. I'm sorry I was out of it and kissed you and thought you were my boyfriend. Not your fault, I admit that. But I'm a little under pressure here, and you could help me out. I'm not turning you in, and by the way Tantal does not have a warrant out for you. Or that other guy you razed Indol with. Worked in our favour. We're not big on the Indoline here. They stole from us for centuries. Anyone helping take Amalthus down is okay in my book. So will you help?"

Mik likes the sound of it. There's scheming, underhandedness, and a reward, sort of, in the end. Right up his alley. He slides his hands down Cute Guy's chest. It is very firm. "Do I get to kiss you again?"

Cute Guy's smile is downright evil. "I would not be against it. If you play your cards well."

Mik studies Cute Guy for a few seconds. "If you tell me why you need a fiancé."

"My father wants me married. It's annoying. Besides, I have other plans."

"I think you got it wrong there. Getting a fiancé just puts you closer to marriage, not further away from it. And how did you even come up with such a harebrained idea at all?"

"There is that. I had planned to tell my father that I am not marrying anytime soon. Had my friends come here to back me up. Nobody messes with Nia. Getting a fiancé will definitely make him back off."

It's so ridiculous that Mik isn't sure whether to laugh or cry. "This is…" Mik shakes his head. It's so adorably stupid that he can't help it. He leans in and catches Cute Guy's mouth in a kiss, just because he needs to kiss someone so utterly, insanely moronic. Their embrace grows closer, tighter, as the kiss turns deeper and hungrier. A small spark that flashes between them makes him gasp and withdraw. "Oh."

"Mmm," Cute Guys sighs. "Electricity Mastery here."

"Of course," Mik laughs, leaning his head against Cute Guy's shoulder. "I'm Dark."

"Of course," Cute Guy repeats. "Of course I couldn't just pick a fiancé who is truly compatible with my element. My father's never going to let me hear the end of it."

"Not like you had a choice for compatibility. I mean, people willing to be blackmailed into pretending to be your fiancé do not stand in line outside your door, I imagine."

"True. How about another kiss?"

Cute Guy sounds so hopeful that Mik would find it downright offensive not to let the guy have what he wants. He's a very good kisser after all.

There is some commotion and Mik sighs into the kiss, reluctant to break it. He could get used to this. But they have an audience.

"What do you know! Shellhead, spit out the poor boy!" It's Nia. "I need a word and he can't speak with your tongue down his throat." A group of people, surely Cute Guy's friends, stand behind her.

Cute Guy doesn't let go, and somehow it gives Mik a warm and fuzzy feeling to be held so firmly. On the other hand, he isn't letting go himself. Cute Guy is very pleasing to hold, in Mik's opinion. Particularly if there are more kisses involved.

"I'm fine," Cute Guy says. "I remember everything. It was just the knock to the head that had me off for a little. We came to an agreement."

"An agreement?" Nia shows her teeth in a hiss. They look very sharp. "And what kind of agreement is that?"

"Mikhail has agreed to be my fiancé—"

"Are you insane? That is not why—" The guy next to Nia isn't having it.

"Rex, it's okay. Just let his father deal with it." Nia sounds remarkably calm, all things considered. "Mórag, what do you think?"

"I think that His Royal Highness has great taste. Mikhail does look pretty, I'll give him that."

"Wait, what, who?" Mikhail looks from Cute Guy to Nia and the Driver accompanying her. "His what now?"

Nia almost topples over laughing. "Titans' toes, he doesn't even know who he's kissing, what the ever-loving Feris? One is dumber than the other."

A Beast Blade steps forward. "Now, now, my lady. Be kind. It seems there has been some kind of misunderstanding. Maybe better to clear it up instead of mocking these two fine men."

"Not a chance," laughs Nia, holding her stomach. The rest of Cute Guy's friends have difficulties hiding their amusement.

"Can I get an explanation? And a name. Now," Mik demands.

"You two are without doubt the dumbest people I have ever met," Nia almost cries. "That there, the dumbass you're holding, Mikhail, is His Royal Highness Prince Ozychlyrus Brounev Tantal, a.k.a. Zeke von Genbu, better known as Thunderbolt Zeke, crown prince of Tantal."

"That's right!" Cute Guy exclaims. "The Zekenator is here!"

Mik forgets to breathe entirely. This time it is Cute Guy, apparently the heir to the throne of Tantal, who holds Mik before he falls.

So Nia has a point. A minor one. Mik does feel a little dumb. But it is not his fault that he never met Prince Ozychlyrus, crown prince to Tantal. Sure, Mik heard tales about Thunderbolt Zeke's abilities as a Driver and of his bravery in combat. Everybody knew that the Crown Prince of Tantal lived in Indol, but he sure didn't run in the circles that Mik ran. All right, the eyepatch, covering the Shining Eye of Justice, should have been a clue, but there were so many people hurt during the war that the presence of one more or less limb or eye sort of didn't register.

"I'm stupid," Mikhail admits, admission whispered against Zeke's neck. "How did I not see it?"

"I'm glad you did not," Zeke murmurs. "You would have walked away when I fell. Or tried to use me. Will you still—"

"If I agree, there's no way out, is there? Not really? It's something else with royalty? Not like with ordinary people?" Mik isn't well versed in ways of royalty, not since childhood. But he's pretty sure that a royal fiancé isn't easily discarded.

Zeke looks at Mik so tenderly it's hard not to sink into the warmth of his gaze. It surely isn't on purpose. They only met each other this morning. "Please say yes! I promise, Babe, you won't regret it."

Mik wants to object. He is not babe or darling or sweetheart. Never. He is Mikhail, charmer of men and women, Blades and Drivers alike, and he is definitely not boyfriend material. Or consort material, for that matter. It's weird, though. A Driver picks up a Core Crystal, and woosh, a Blade is bound to you forever. Even if it turns out that Blade and Driver hate one another there is no turning back. Is this any different? Mik picked up a guy who happened to be a prince, and suddenly they are about to be bound?

It is the closest Mikhail has ever come to tie himself to anyone since he lost his best friend in childhood. Wars are unkind.

"Are you asking me what I think you're asking," Mik wants to know.

He does not get an answer. There is no more time.

A person of some status arrives in the hall. "Prince, King Eulogimenos will see you now. Who is your company so that I may announce them?"

Zeke nods in the direction of Nia and the others. "My father knows them. Tell him that the gang is here. That'll be enough."

"Very well. Please." The courtier waves them in the direction of a set of impressive doors.

Nia and the Beast Blade walk up next to Mik. "Now is the time if you wish to renege on Prince Zeke's suggestion," says the Blade. "Zeke is a kind man, if jaded and hurt. Not unlike yourself, perhaps, if you will forgive me the assumption."

The Blade is not entirely wrong. Mik has scars. Most of them are of Indol's affliction. "What are you saying?"

"Dromarch. My name is Dromarch. I apologise for my lady's irreverent behaviour." Dromarch walks a little slower and Mik falls back to listen to what he has to say. "I am saying that it may not be a mistake to indulge and let Zeke have what he wants from you. If you like him, of course. My lady and I have traveled far with the prince in our company. He will be king one day. He will need someone strong—tough enough to stand by his side. His plan may seem farfetched and silly, but if you listen to this old beast, I am not so sure that it is as bad as it sounds. However, the Tantalese court will not look kindly on a broken promise, so choose wisely."

Choose wisely? In a minute? If it wasn't so stunningly insane, Mik would have laughed loudly, berated himself how idiotic the entire idea was, then walked out the door, never to turn back.

"Wait here, please," the courtier says as they reach the door to what has to be the king's reception hall. "I shall announce you."

Mik holds his breath, then lets out a sigh. There is a slight problem with walking away. He won't get to kiss Cute Guy again. Prince or not. And Mik is pretty sure that he would very much love to kiss Zeke some more. And also have him naked in a bed with no friends, fathers, nor rude Gormotti girls in sight.

But he would pay for that by being burdened with a prince and a kingdom. Which, when it is put like that, does not sound like a burden at all. More like a… reward?

Huh.

Mik steps close to Zeke. He takes his hand. "Fiancé?"

"I knew you'd see sense, my darling, my sweetheart, Babe." Zeke grabs his hand so tight it almost hurts.

"Don't make me regret it before we stand before the king, you idiot."

"You do love me. It's obvious."

"Mm-hm. If you're as much of a dunce as you clearly are, I see how you could interpret it like that."

"Would you kiss me again?"

"Does it make you shut up?" Mik rolls his eyes, makes a tired gesture with one hand and leans in to kiss Zeke again. And again.

"Prince? Prince, please! The king wants to…"

"That's not helping. Dromarch, Raging Tiger !"

"My lady, I will not attack the Crown Prince of Tantal in his own castle!"

"Then the crown prince should not let his father wait. Zeke, I will have Dromarch eat you if you don't get your head out of your arse."

The world finally makes an impact deep enough to make Mik pull out of his dazed assault on Zeke's person. His doubt is no more. There is no way he is letting Zeke go. None. If he can have this, he'll be Zeke's pretend fiancé until death do them part. Gods, how he hates being ruled by his dick. But since both he and his dick are in agreement on Zeke, well…

"If you would compose yourself, Your Highness, your father is waiting. Patiently."

Ignoring the courtier, Zeke attempts some modicum of royal behaviour. "Thank you, my good man. Please advise my father that I shall be there presently with—" He sends Mik a questioning look.

Mik nods. There. It's done.

"As I said," Zeke drawls, "I shall be there presently. To announce my engagement."

"What is it I hear, Ozychlyrus? Your fiancé? What is this nonsense?" King Eulogimenos is getting up from his throne, stroking his beard erratically. "I was ensured you would come here to discuss marriage in general, not to show up with—"

"Mikhail, Your Highness." Mik makes an elegant bow, as deep as the tight trousers he is wearing allow him. "Of Indol."

"Of Indol! How dare—"

"I was in the resistance, Your Highness. My associate and I lent a hand in taking down Praetor Amalthus. Let us just say that the Praetor was not popular with my people."

"Your people," the king spits out. "Why have I not—"

"Mikhail is a Blade Eater." Zeke stands up straight. "You do know what that means, I assume. Amalthus used my fiancé for experiments! He wasn't asked for permission. Unsurprisingly. Amalthus was not great on that."

How in the name of a thousand dying Titans does Zeke know that? Mik is shaken for a second, then composes himself. Intel. Malos has it and, obviously, so does the man he is about to be engaged to. In a way it should be encouraging. He's not going to have a fool for fiancé.

"A Blade Eater? An unwilling experiment?" King Eulogimenos looks shaken.

Mik is not sure he likes King Eulogimenos much. But he sure likes Zeke so maybe it will work anyway. It's not as if they have to stay in Tantal; it has long been a public secret that Thunderbolt Zeke had been temporarily exiled to Indol.

"I am indeed, Your Highness, an experiment carried out by the Praetor a very long time ago. I did not agree to it; I was merely a child, a refugee. So do not confuse my residence with my affiliation. Revenge is a dish that is as appetising cold as it is hot. I waited a long time to serve it. It was always my goal to have Amalthus and Indol fall."

The king looks at Zeke. "He is not very polite, my son. Are you sure he is right for you? He is decorative, though, I'll give you that."

"No, I'm just taking him for his tight arse, father. Of course" he is right for me. Ask your intelligence about him, and you will find that my fiancé is a lot more than a pretty face. You want Tantal to evolve, to flourish. I need someone with me who is cunning, someone who can be ruthless and clever when it comes to politics. Someone who is not afraid of power."

Please, no one tell the king that we only met this morning, Mik prays. It's not that he will be heartbroken if he is refused by King Eulogimenos, it's that he can see it, the future, with Zeke. For once, he is not denying himself even the mere idea of a relationship outright, to a degree where he has never slept a full night with a lover, nor returned to one for a second night. The mere fact that he hasn't walked out the palace is an indicator that Mik's view on life has taken a U-turn. No one has ever—Milton exempt—made him want this kind of future before. No one.

This is huge.

It is vastly more disturbing that a dunderhead such as Zeke, adorable as he is, has seen through Mik's facade so easily, seen the man he really is. It takes a man with guts to want for that person. Mik knows himself. He knows he is charming, gorgeous, clever, a manipulator and tactician. His ego is big. He is not unlike Zeke, and yet very different from him. He is not an amalgam of chastity and kindness in any way, shape or form.

And Zeke? He somehow bypassed all Mik's defences. He has left him stunned, manipulated, fooled into a wild scheme with roots into the Tantalese court and behind enemy lines in Indol. Zeke has left him wanting for more, and no one has ever managed that. Worse, Zeke has done it all in half a day. Not even Malos has ever accomplished something that spectacular.

Mik has long stopped being impressed with anything humans and Blades do. But not today. Zeke has impressed him and if that isn't a mad turn-on, nothing is.

"Why do you wish to marry my son?" The king walks the raised platform that separates him from them. He stops, turns, his robe swishing aggressively around him. "Status? Power?"

"Status?" Mik laughs. "Tell me how being bound to a country is better than being free to do what you like. Tell me how it is not boring responsibility and duty. I hold no love for any of these things. I like freedom. Titles? Nothing but window dressing. I do not wish to marry your son any more than I want status." It is the truth, and Mik is sure the king knows it too. "It is not marriage and status that make me think I would not mind waking up with Zeke in my arms. It is not the access to power. I have that on my own, if not as openly or as plentiful as you have."

"Hm, at least you are honest. What is it then? Gold?"

"Ew. That is so pedestrian!" Mik flips his hair and looks down his nose at the king, some feat seeing the king stands a head taller than he. "If I wanted to whore myself out for gold, don't you think I could have anyone? With no strings attached?"

The king looks stunned, as if no one has ever dared be this disrespectful to him.

Zeke, in turn, looks impressed. He makes an appreciative nod. Maybe people can't be bothered to say what they mean when speaking to royalty. Luckily Mik suffers from no such notion.

"If, and I say if, I marry Zeke, if I decide that I want him enough for me to care to ruin my life with things I do not want, it will be because I cannot see a life without him in it. Because I want him, and not some old drafty pile of bricks castle or a title. None of which can fight for me, or defend me." Mik takes a deep breath. He is not entirely sure how it went from 'fake fiancé' to 'speaking of marriage'. He is also not sure that he dislikes it as much as he should. "If I marry him it will be because my life would be empty without him. If that is not good enough for your son, let me know." Mik huffs, flips his hair, turns on one foot and walks back to Zeke, hips swaying.

"Architect, I am so in love with you right now," Zeke murmurs and puts his arm around Mik's waist. "Please don't leave."

"You lured me into this," Mik hisses. "I should leave you to sort this out by yourself. I have no idea whether you are the most cunning man alive, or just so stupid that it looks like something else. But I can't in good conscience leave you to your own devices; you'll get hurt again."

"Is that a yes, then? For real?" Zeke's lips are so soft against Mik's cheek.

He can't help but sigh in contentment. "Mm, it's a… mmm, yes."

"Mikhail! Ozychlyrus!" King Eulogimenos sits down heavily. "Are you going to behave so… lewdly in front of the court? Habitually?"

Zeke pulls back and turns to his father. "Yes? You wanted me married, now I will be, pending your accept. Would you prefer I took someone I am not attracted to?"

"Give me strength!" the king exclaims with upturned eyes. "Both of you. Approach the throne."

Mik sends Zeke a look. Zeke nods. They step closer.

"Let me see that." King Eulogimenos points to Mik's left hand. "Is that your engagement ring?"

It is not, of course, but he can't throw Zeke to the Ferises on this. Mik holds out his hand. "Er, yes?"

"I expected better from my son. This will not do."

Mik looks from the ring to the king and back again. Better? The ring surely costs more than what most common people earn in a lifetime.

"Treasurer!" the King demands. "Fetch us the shrine with the crown jewels."

"Whoa," Mik balks. "But—"

"You are marrying a future king. You will wear a ring befitting of a king's consort, not a cheap, gaudy trinket, is that understood?"

The new ring is old. The stone is smaller, flashing a bright yellow as the light hits it. Like lightning. Mik is sure it is worth more than half the palace. It looks better on his hand than the ring from the shop. And his hand, in turn, looks better when it is held in Zeke's calloused hand, big and safe and strong. Mik makes a sigh of contentment.

It has been a day.

"So you will accept my choice?" Zeke asks his father. "Not that you really have a say in it, but I'm polite enough to ask."

"Son, you have refused offers of marriage for so long I never thought you would stand here before me, asking for permission to marry. And with a man who is clearly willing to overlook your many shortcomings." King Eulogimenos nods. "I will allow it. Your marriage will be set in a month from now. Uraya, Mor Ardain, Gormott. They will all be invited."

Cheers and applause break loose. "Good for you, Shellhead!" Nia shouts.

A month? The trap is closing around him. Mik can feel it. Only it does not feel like a trap. It feels safe. Good. All the trappings of royalty matters not, but Zeke? Mik looks at his, well, fiancé with a softness in his heart he had thought long gone. Maybe if Milton had been alive, he would have been the one standing there. He will never know, and he doesn't do regret. Milton is long gone. Zeke? He is right here, alive. Besides, there is something about him that makes Mik think of his dead friend, some of the silliness, the wild heart, the dedication.

Maybe one day he and Zeke will fall in love too. As Zeke smiles and steps in front of him, still cradling his hand in his, Mik thinks it may not take so long.

With a reassuring squeeze to his hand, Zeke sighs, maybe from relief. He smiles, ever so softly, like Mik is the only thing he sees.

Mik gasps as Zeke falls on one knee before him.

Zeke looks up on him. "I want to do this properly. In front of witnesses. So you know I mean it. So that you can give me an answer, one that is not hurried or forced. Mikhail, by permission from my father, King Eulogimenos Tantal, I ask you: will you marry me?"

The question comes from the heart, Mik can see it. There is nothing but honesty in the way Zeke looks, hopeful and worried at the same time. "Are you sure?" Mik whispers softly. There is a spot in his heart that is softening too, made of stone and ice and darkness as it has been for so many years. He does not want to hurt, but he is not sure he dares love. Not yet. Not yet.

Though when he thinks of Zeke, of their few kisses, of the entire mess of a mad day, something moves within his soul, like this coldness, this hard, cold place in him is thawing. In the coldest of places, he has found the warmest of hearts.

Zeke's.

Maybe it is warm enough so that his heart too, can be warm again?

"Zeke," he manages to get out before he needs to stop.

It is like standing on the ledge, not knowing how deep the abyss is before you step forward and fall into it. He closes his eyes. His heart is beating faster and more vividly than he has felt it for a long time. He opens his eyes again.

He takes the step. "Yes."

They leave the castle hand in hand. Mik should hate it, but he doesn't. Zeke doesn't seem to mind, either, he refuses to let go, even when Mik attempts to button his coat against the cold. They don't speak much, making a hurried goodbye to Zeke's friends with a promise to make up for it and meet with them the next day.

"Finally alone, my darling," Zeke declares as they reach the street where they fell for one another, sort of. "That was a riot."

Mik rolls his eyes. "Imagine what I had to endure for you today. You owe me, Zeke."

"I do. Should we go somewhere where I could pay you back without people interfering?" It sounds very hopeful.

Mik has an idea that his payment may come in kisses, a currency for which he has an entirely new affinity.

"My ship? It is docked at Genbu Port."

"Well, no time like the present," Zeke beams. "Let's go."

It's a tedious walk from Theosoir, but they hurry, more set on getting to the end of it than to speak or kiss, even though they break once or twice to make sure that they haven't forgotten how to properly and thoroughly kiss one another. The roads, even snow-covered, are safer now, with monsters few and far between. In his warm coat with boots suited for the climate, the trek is almost close to being a relaxing break from the craziness of their day.

Night has fallen when they reach their destination. The docks are empty. No one in their right mind is braving the cold this time of night if they can avoid it, Mik is sure. It's freezing. The air has that scent of nothing, and yet that something which comes with the snow-covered landscape.

Zeke huffs out a sigh as they step into the warm light of the torches that lights up the small docking area. He stretches, giving Mik a delightful view of his chest. How the man endures the cold with his chest bare is beyond Mik, but he isn't complaining about the view.

"The Monocerus. At the far left." Mik points to his ship.

"Not the Marsanes? No, of course. It's not really something you'd use for short distance travel."

"You know suspiciously much about me, Zeke. How?" Mik pulls Zeke with him towards his ship. "You knew who I was. Before you decided to fall on me. Care to explain?"

Zeke sucks in a breath. "Um."

"Um?" Mik repeats and drags Zeke with him across the pier. He looks across his shoulder while fiddling with the lock to the ship's door. "Tirkin got your tongue?"

The lights turn on, dim, as they walk inside. The ship is cold and Mik wants to get to his quarters where it's warm. And then Zeke will get the full force of Mik's interrogation abilities, crown prince or not. "In here." Mik opens the door to his cabin. It's small but luxurious; he cannot, will not, endure living in squalor for the sake of… anything.

Zeke looks around, clearly noting all the details. His lips purse into a wondering pout. "I don't think my chambers are half as well-equipped as yours. Looks comfortable."

Zeke is right about the comfort. The Kapiba furs are warm at night and Flamil down lend perfect fluffiness to pillows and duvets. Handwoven blankets finish the cosy nest that Mik has created for himsef. The bed is shoved up into a corner, providing a sense of security. An old-fashioned woodburner in the opposite side of the room gives out a warmth that no Ether furnace could match. Mik likes it, it reminds him of the time where he was traveling the wilderness, sleeping outside near a campfire with his friends.

"My bed is very comfortable." Mik tilts his head to one side, exposing his neck invitingly. He lets the fur coat slide down his arms, looking at Zeke from under heavy lids. "Care to try it?" He starts unbuttoning the silk jacket slowly, taking his time.

Zeke does not look away. He licks his lips. He takes a step closer, then another, until he is so close that one more step will have their bodies up against one another. Zeke leans in, mouth half open, breath ragged. Then he smiles a wicked, evil smile. "Are you trying to play me, Babe?"

"What?" Mik steps back, offended for no other reason than he was made by the dumbass he's marrying. "I—"

"You were. Because you are not sure why I looked into your background." Zeke grins. "But do continue. If it ends up with you naked and me between your absolutely gorgeous legs, I won't complain."

"You arouse me so much right now," Mik gets out through clenched teeth, not sure whether to be angry or sad or horny or all of it at once. "How the—"

"I have been watching you, Mikhail. You are not exactly a man who does discreet well. I was curious. I still am." Zeke reaches out, pushing off the jacket from Mik's shoulders. The undershirt makes no obstacle and Zeke pulls it over his head with no further ado.

Mik sighs. This is not what he had expected and he is never caught unawares.

Zeke slides two fingers down Mik's naked chest. He stops right over the Crystal in his chest. "This is where…"

"Mm." Mik cannot help but to press himself closer to Zeke, to his touch.

"It should not have been done to you. Not without consent. "

Mik reaches for Zeke's neck, caressing it as he leans in to place little kisses to the other side of Zeke's neck. "So you did spy on me? Was our meeting a coincidence, then? Your… sudden amnesia?"

Opening Mik's trousers callously, short of ripping them, Zeke turns his head and kisses Mik, a greedy and hard kiss that effectively stops any answers to his questions. Dazed, Mik reciprocates. If that's how Zeke want to play, the game is on.

Breathing hard, Zeke breaks the kiss in favour of discarding his own coat and shirt. Zeke really has a nice chest and Mik is distracted by it, finally getting full access to it. Zeke makes some beautiful noises when Mik slides his nails over one nipple.

"So, was it a coincidence this morning?"

"Ah," is all Zeke gets out as he presses up against Mik. He's hard, no doubt. "It… oh… was. I did… do that again, yes."

"Was what?" Mik steps away. "You get more when I get an answer."

"Babe?" Zeke begs. "You can't—"

"I can. And I will." Mik pushes his trousers down his hips, sliding a hand over his own hardness. "You want this, you talk." The needy whine that Zeke makes is so adorable that Mik almost gives in. "Talk."

"It was an accident. I wasn't lying. But I had my eyes on you already, I'll admit that. Maybe that's why I thought you were my boyfriend?"

"Eyes, hm? To spy on me? Because of my relation to Malos, Jin, and Torna?"

"To begin with. I get intelligence from a large variety of sources. Tantal's continued survival and all that. I have little faith in my fellow man."

"And?" Mik reaches out, sliding his fingers into Zeke's hair. It's lush and he pulls it a little, making Zeke moan. "Explain!"

"And then I saw you. What I heard about you intrigued me. And I liked what I saw."

"That superficial, huh?" Never for a moment has it bothered Mik to be judged by his looks. It's what has made people underestimate him for centuries. Now, on the other hand, it is not a good feeling—that beauty may be all that he is.

"Not in the least. You are smart, smarter than most. Charming, that's a given. But you are also kind, caring, even though you won't admit it. You have taken care of the head of Torna for many years. You and their leader Jin kept Malos… within the limits of what is tolerable to society. There are people alive who would be dead now because of you. No, my darling, you are so much more than a pretty face."

"And your amnesia?" Mik steps back into reach, sliding his arms around Zeke's neck. He presses one leg between Zeke's. It makes Zeke gasp and moan.

"If you continue that, I'll forget my own name," Zeke groans, thrusting lightly against Mik's hip. "But that's okay with me."

"Not an answer. Come again."

"If only." Zeke nibbles at Mik's ear, his breath warm and damp against his skin. "I fell. Until we were back at the castle, I honesty thought you were mine. I was sad when I came to, and you were not. Mainly because I wanted to get to know you. Before today. That was my plan."

Mik lets out a shaky breath. He is fine, playing mind games. He is fine with being under surveillance; Tantal would have done so under all circumstances. He would, however, not be fine, being played for a fool, and thankfully that is not the case. There is something deeply appealing by having the Crown Prince of a nation lusting for him so deeply he used his country's resources to reach a point where they could meet.

The idea rocks the wall that he usually keeps between himself and the rest of the world. Mik needs to get back the upper hand.

"All the talk about not wanting marriage. Wasn't that why you were meeting with your father?"

Zeke moves his hands to Mik's arse, pressing him close. Mik hisses and leaves some nice, red lines on Zeke's chest.

"It was. I did not want him to parade a peloton of princesses before me; if I loved women, I would have married my own Blade. She's that cute. You… I was not lying when I said I was interested. I had never imagined, however, that a man who was, let's call it… a mercenary under Torna, would want more than just sex."

"What? So I'm just sex to you?" It's not what Zeke said, but Mik is, hard pressed, a romantic, a lover. Unwilling to admit it, he can't but react. "I can't," he groans dramatically. "If that is all you wanted. Sex! There is a couch. You can have sex there. With yourself!" Mik huffs and crosses his arms angrily.

It doesn't work. Zeke merely laughs at him. "Well, intelligence told me you were high maintenance. And not above using sex as pressure? Tsh, Mik. Your own fiancé? You cannot do that."

"What would be the fun in stopping," Mik purrs, called out on his drama. "Then I couldn't see you like this, all riled up and ready to fall on your knees for me. I think I like you a little unsteady on your feet."

"Well, then you got what you asked for, Babe. I am famous for being clumsy. But you do know that that card can be played against you, too, don't you?"

"In other ways than when you fall on top of me, ending up engaged to me?"

"Ah, more in the area of… variations of a theme."

"Variation?" Mik frowns. There is only so many times they can get engaged.

"Mm-hm, " Zeke agrees. "Like this."

Mik is on his back on the bed, Zeke on top of him before he can blink. He manages half a gasp before he is kissed again and again, kisses that make him breathless, little moans escaping as best they can between one kiss and the next.

Always on top, always ready to leave, always unattached, refusing himself the danger and allure of love, Mik cannot hold back. His defences fall, leaving him naked in more ways than one. Zeke undresses him, strips him of masks and of the wall set between his battered heart and anyone trying to get near it.

With Zeke over him, he falls apart, finally giving in as Zeke takes him.

It's new, waking up with someone next to him. Zeke's arm is heavy, and his thigh is pressing on Mik's dick. It's fine. He could get used to this. He would not be against it. At all. Mik makes a content sigh and snuggles up to Zeke, pulling the furs and duvets tighter around them, keeping the cold out.

Mik had no idea sleeping, as in sleeping and waking up with someone, would be so pleasant. He lies next to Zeke, quiet, wondering how life suddenly took such a mad turn. He is not against it, though, but it probably will require some adjustment. Only Zeke is hot, and he knows what he's doing. Mik is sore. He shuffles closer to Zeke, making a low moan as he moves and his body reminds him how thorough Thunderbolt Zeke can be. Definitely an angle to that moniker, one no one but he will never know how well that 'thunderbolt' works. Mik laughs at the thought.

Zeke turns, yawns and opens his eye. "Morning."

Mik hides his head at Zeke's neck, suddenly shy. "Mm."

"What my father said, hmm?" Zeke's voice is sleepy and rough. "About marriage. The ceremony?"

"Yeah? In a month?" Mik really needs to adjust to that prospect too.

"With guests from several countries. We're looking at a feast for emperors and queens, like hundreds of guests."

It does not sound appealing in the least, now that it is pointed out to him. He is beginning to really like Zeke, and the sex? Heavenly. But making an official event out of the union that Mik only reluctantly agreed to? He is not looking forward to that. He'll probably be paraded in front of everybody like some kind of prize Armu. Mik is open to suggestions. "What are you thinking?"

"This ship of yours? How fast can you get us ready to leave?"

Mik is, if nothing else, used to sudden changes and decisions. Malos is, if anything, unpredictable. "For?"

"If we set sail for Torigoth, we can be married by tomorrow. We bail out of a Tantal wedding. Interested?"

Mik leans back in bed and laughs. He thought princes were more princely, but clearly he was in the wrong. Zeke is so many things, but princely is not one of them. He is dumb and clever, sweet and tough, cunning and clueless. It's disconcerting, but it has an upside: Mik is sure he will never be bored with a husband like Zeke, prince or no prince.

Zeke hovers over him, a wide grin on his face. "My father will kill us."

"Not if we are not there."

"We're eloping, then?"

"Thought you would never ask."

It does take a while before they are ready to take off, however. There are kisses to be had.

At the time when the official wedding was set to take place, rumours of Thunderbolt Zeke's hasty and highly scandalous Gormotti marriage to Mikhail—a member of the infamous organisation Torna—had already reached Tantal as well as the courts in Mor Ardain and Uraya.

Despite the disappearance of the Crown Prince and his husband, Prince Consort Mikhail of Tantal, the feast was held nevertheless. It was a diplomatic success, securing peace between the nations for a considerable length of time. The gifts for the newlyweds were plenty, despite the couple's refusal to attend the feast in their honour.

Eventually the princes, deeply devoted to one another, returned to the ruins of Indol, helping rebuild the city for the benefit of those Indol had harmed during its reign.