Work Text:
When D3rlord3 slowly opened his eyes, he found himself staring at a wooden ceiling above him. With a dazed expression, he tried to rise from where he lay, but his aching body wouldn’t let him move even a finger. When he examined more carefully, he realized the problem didn’t end there. He couldn’t open his mouth to speak, could barely force out a sound. And most importantly, he had not the slightest idea where he was.
Unable to move, the knight began to panic slowly, letting out meaningless groans as his body tensed. At that moment, he heard a smooth voice from beside him, yet he couldn’t turn his head. He furrowed his brows slightly, trying to recognize the voice, but failed. Then again… he couldn’t even remember his own voice.
“Ah, my little lord, it’s wonderful to see you awake. I feared you might never awaken.”
Straining himself, D3rlord3 tried to turn toward the owner of the voice, but cold hands stopped him.
“Ah no, my dear. You mustn’t move. Your body is exhausted. Please, be calm.”
The moment the knight saw the yellow-robed figure entering his field of vision, he instinctively shuddered and tried to pull away from the touch. He let out a muffled protest. With effort, he parted his lips and drew in a breath.
“W-what…?”
At his weary voice, the King inclined Its head, withdrew Its hands, and stepped back calmly. Now D3rlord3 could see the figure more clearly. It wore a long yellow robe that covered Its entire body, Its head hidden beneath the hood. Though the hood cast Its face into unnecessary shadow, the knight could faintly make out a sharp jawline. Lying motionless on the bed, the man hesitantly licked his lips and wondered, without showing his fear—had he fallen into the hands of a cult? Who was this unnaturally tall being, and what did It want from him? And most importantly… who was he?
Unbeknownst to D3rlord3, the King could hear all his thoughts, and these unsettling suspicions did not please It. So It decided to take control, stepping closer to the bed, gently placing Its hand upon the knight’s dark hair and stroking it soothingly. Shocked by the touch, D3rlord3 desperately tried to pull away.
“Please don’t resist, my knight. I know you want an explanation, but I cannot begin unless you are calm.”
When the man on the bed took a deep breath and ceased struggling, the King let out a satisfied murmur. If he could see clearly, D3rlord3 might even have said It was smiling. For now, he chose to ignore the hands on his head and listen. With tension and hesitation etched across his face, he fixed his golden eyes on the King.
“Ah, I see you are willing to listen. That is good. It is pleasant to see you have lost none of your old stubbornness.”
The knight exhaled sharply and impatiently, brushing dark strands of hair away from his face as he looked at the King expectantly, hoping It would stop speaking in words that meant nothing to him.
“Yes, I apologize. As for your questions—no, you were not abducted, I am not a cultist, and you are not in danger.”
“How… do you…?”
The knight asked in shock, with effort. He hadn’t expected the questions passing through his mind to be answered. His eyes widened as he swallowed.
“Who… are you?”
The King remained silent, continuing to stroke the knight’s hair, then tilted Its head slightly.
“That is difficult to explain. But you may call me Hastur. And I am not someone. I am something… Was that helpful enough?”
It had not been helpful at all, yet the knight found himself instinctively nodding under the weight of fear. So the King continued.
“You saw something you should not have seen, my little lord—something that might have killed you. The consequences were irreversible, but I could not allow you to die. Thus, I erased everything you witnessed from your mind. Permanently. Of course, it came with certain… side effects. Such as not knowing who you are or where you are.”
The knight wanted to interrupt, to shout, to tell the being before him what nonsense It spoke—but the King continued.
“Please listen to all my words before becoming angry or panicking, my knight, thank you… I know you are afraid and do not feel safe, but I assure you, you are safer here than anywhere else. You remember nothing, and that is not your fault. It is no one’s fault. But I will help you. Do not worry.”
D3rlord3 stared at the ceiling with an unreadable expression, then forced himself to turn toward the robed figure.
“What… nonsense… are you talking about…?”
“That was rather rude, my knight…”
At those words, the knight erupted, thrashing upon the bed. Ignoring his aching muscles and clouded mind, he shouted, breathing erratically.
“What do you mean ERASED? What are you and what did you DO? Explain what you’re talking about! Stop telling me ridiculous fairy tales! I’ve never seen you in my life! I don’t know where I am, who I am, what I look like, I don’t even know if I’m a man or a woman, and you’re telling me some STUPID fairy tale?!”
Now D3rlord3 lay sweating coldly, trembling uncontrollably. Panic stole his breath as his frightened eyes darted around the room. Tears gathered at the edges of his vision, blurring everything, worsening his fear. In sudden desperation, he ran his hands over his body, searching for some familiar curve, texture, or sensation—yet the only thing he felt was a body that did not belong to him. The realization churned his stomach, and a pained whimper escaped his lips.
The King stood silently through it all, watching Its knight. As though It had expected this, It offered a quiet, understanding presence, allowing him time to calm.
“I am so sorry, my dear. I understand your pain. Truly…”
“You understand nothing…!”
D3rlord3 spat the words like a curse, curling inward as though disgusted by his own body, sobbing. It was not better, but he had regained some control. He could glare at the King, pouring silent hatred into his gaze. Still, the King remained calm, nodding with understanding as It sat at the edge of the bed. Like one soothing a frightened, wounded creature, It slowly extended Its hand, gently stroking the knight’s hair.
“I never intended to hurt you, my knight. But I can understand you better than even you can. I am the only one who can… whether you believe it or not.”
The man curled at the corner of the bed raised his brows hesitantly.
“How can I believe you when EVERYTHING you say sounds like a fairy tale? I… I know nothing… what I am, who I am, what I’ve done… NOTHING! And you tell me you are responsible for this and expect me not to react?!”
As a second wave of panic seized him, the King moved closer.
“Ah no, my dear… I expect nothing of the sort. I am only explaining my reasons. Reacting is your greatest right as a human. You may be angry, shout, even strike me if you wish.”
Yet every word of comfort only worsened the knight’s trembling. Fixing tear-filled eyes upon the hidden face within the yellow robe, he demanded firmly:
“Tell me.”
“Hmm? Tell you what, my knight?”
“The reason… for the absurdity you claim to have done.”
As his words lingered in the air, the King turned Its head, looking behind It. For a moment, It neither moved nor spoke. Then It turned fully toward D3rlord3.
“Curiosity has always been what brings you trouble, my knight.”
Its thin, black fingers reached toward the fabric concealing Its face and slowly drew it aside.
Or at least… what should have been a face.
What the knight saw pierced his mind like a spear of agony. It was not a face—it was as though multiple faces merged together. And yet it was so breathtaking, so horrifying, that he thought he had lost his mind. Numerous male and female faces overlapped in a translucent, shifting form. Through them, he could see the far wall of the room. The creature’s faces glowed, and Its hair shimmered as though containing all the stars of a galaxy. It hurt—terribly—but he could not look away.
Until all the faces slowly turned toward him and smiled gently.
Something tightened in his chest. His body trembled, his breath vanished. There was only one word for what he beheld: Beauty. Not something beautiful—but the very definition of beauty. Hair that held stars drifted weightlessly in the air. Every face gazed upon him with boundless compassion. He was so entranced he did not notice tears streaming down his cheeks—until the King warned him and covered Its face once more.
“Are you well, my knight?”
Gentle hands stroked his hair. He felt a strange ache in his heart at the loss of that sight, as though he wished to tear it from his chest. Yet his fragile mind was relieved not to see more.
“I am glad you find me beautiful, my knight. Yet even that fragment strained your mind. Do you now understand what happened when you beheld the entirety of my being? You are fortunate to live. Truly, very fortunate.”
The King wiped away his tears and watched him silently.
“I… don’t know… I didn’t—”
“Shh, it is all right, my dear. Of course you didn’t know. There is no need to grieve.”
Calmly, the King lifted the trembling knight as though he weighed nothing and drew him close. Under Its touch, he lay limp, able only to let out a tired sound. As Its hand moved soothingly along his back, he surrendered to the embrace, pressing his face into the yellow cloth and breathing deeply.
“I will help you. There is no need to fear.”
From that moment on, the only thing the knight could do was sink deeper into the embrace and yield. After all… a being so mesmerizing could not possibly lie, could It?..