Title: Till Death Do Us Part
Pairing: Keita/Ryuichi
Author: venenatus.venustas
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Don’t own them.
Warnings: So much crack.
Summary: In an ancient world reigned by a woman, Ryuichi is nothing more than the Queen’s brother, locked up in the palace and waiting for an appointed marriage. What happens when the Queen finally decides on a match for him?

Continued from: Part 1 Part 2

A/N: I think I'll alternate between PG-13 and NC-17 chapters. My brain is rotting from all the pr0ny thoughts.



O.o o.O

“Mistress. Mistress.” The voices called to Ryuichi softly, and he shivered, cold, huddling deeper into his bed.

“Mistress, please, wake up.” The voices were insistent, urging, and tugged at the edges of Ryuichi’s comforter, trying to pull it away from his face.

“G’way,” he mumbled, head pounding.

“Mistress, Master is asking for you. He’s waiting outside.”

“I don’t care,” Ryuichi grumbled. And then the words sunk in. Master. White Lord. Husband.

Shit.

Ryuichi sat straight up in bed, making a face as his head spun and his stomach flipped. “Outside?”

“He’s in your breakfast room, Mistress.”

“Why am I…?” Ryuichi tugged the comforter up, acutely aware of his nakedness. “Hikaru, where is my robe?”

“I’m Kaoru, Mistress. Your robe was…spoiled last night. Here’s a fresh one that Hikaru and I picked out.”

Ryuichi wanted to throw up. How much wine had he had last night? “I think I’m hungover,” he said, and slapped a hand over his mouth when he felt chunks rising in his throat.

The twins each held out a silver basin for him to vomit into, and Ryuichi’s eyes crossed at the mirror image in front of him.

“Is my husband alone in the breakfast room?”

“Mori and Honey are attending him, and Haruhi is waiting on him,” Hikaru answered. Or was he Kaoru?

“You two. No more identical robes. D’you hear me?” Ryuichi winced at the pain in his head, eyes aching from the sunlight pouring through his windows. “I want to die,” he groaned.

“Should we call for the master?” Kaoru asked. Or was he Hikaru?

“No, no.” Ryuichi didn’t want his husband to see him like this. He wanted to appear perfect, fresh and beautiful and glowing, not pasty and shivering and gagging. “Dress me,” he said, sliding out of bed, and Hikaru and Kaoru rushed to cover him in the clean robe, deftly tying the knots as Ryuichi swayed and his head spun some more. “Guh,” he groaned, trying to refrain from vomiting.

There was a knock on the door, and Ryuichi looked over to see Honey peek his head in. “Is Mistress ready yet?” he asked.

“I feel sick,” Ryuichi mumbled, and grabbed a silver basin, cradling it as Hikaru and Kaoru combed through his hair and tied it back with a ribbon.

“We’ll need a few more minutes,” the twins chorused, and Honey nodded before slipping back out again.

“Your toothbrush, Mistress,” a twin said, handing Ryuichi a toothbrush with toothpaste already on it.

Ryuichi gave his teeth a few cursory swipes, and his tongue too, for good measure; the inside of his mouth felt like it was covered in a layer of fuzzy, foul-tasting mould.

“Mistress is ready?” the twins asked, one of them holding a mirror up for Ryuichi and the other holding out a lace fan for Ryuichi to take.

Ryuichi took the fan. He would need it for sure; his reflection in the mirror was not pretty at all.

The breakfast room was the extra sitting room leading out into the balcony, and so an entire wall was made of glass, with a set of double doors set in the middle. His husband sat at the small table next to the windows, and he was looking down, one hand resting on his lap and the other fiddling with his teaspoon.

“My lord,” Ryuichi said. “I’m sorry to have made you wait.”

“My lady.”

Ryuichi’s heart skipped a beat at the term of endearment, and he couldn’t help the uplifting of the corners of his lips as he sat down across from the White Lord. A fresh cup of tea was set in front of Ryuichi, and Ryuichi opened his fan, fluttering it, trying to hide his face behind it as he felt himself turn green at the smell, which he usually found fragrant but this morning nauseating.

The White Lord looked at Ryuichi carefully before speaking again. “How are you feeling this morning?”

Ryuichi gave a rather embarrassed smile. “Well, thank you. And my lord?”

“As well as can be, given the circumstances.”

Circumstances? Oh god, what happened last night? Ryuichi felt a rush of panic that did not help his already queasy stomach. He swallowed hard, mostly because of the chunks that were starting to rise again.

“Circumstances, my lord?”

“I fear,” his husband said slowly, “that I may have infringed upon your most honourable person.”

Ryuichi winced. So something had happened. Was it as he remembered, with hot kisses, wanton moans, and his husband’s strong hands and mouth on his most intimate parts? Oh god, this was almost too embarrassing to bear.

“I came as soon as I could this morning, in hopes of asking your forgiveness.”

My forgiveness – Ryuichi bit his lower lip. “My lord, there is nothing to forgive. We are husband and wife, and anything that might have…happened was certainly, um, justified.”

The White Lord sighed. “I hadn’t wanted…you were so drunk last night that…”

Ah, so that was it. His husband was feeling guilty because something had happened and he didn’t know if it had been consensual or not. To be honest, Ryuichi didn’t remember himself, but it certainly felt like it had been. Or what Ryuichi remembered it felt like.

“I remember what happened last night,” Ryuichi said. “I remember all of it.”

“Do you?” The White Lord sounded sceptical.

“I do.”

Ryuichi knew his husband didn’t believe him, and he wondered why. He reached across the table, placing his hand on top of his husband’s.

The White Lord moved hesitantly, threading his fingers through Ryuichi’s so their hands were clasped loosely together. “I fear that perhaps you…” His voice was soft, so soft, and it struck a chord deep within Ryuichi, stirring up a strange sense of familiarity and something else he didn’t recognise. Someone had spoken like that to him before, their voice soft and smooth, low and velvety, but still with the timbre of a man.

“There is nothing to fear. You are my husband now. I…belong to you.” Ryuichi only realised the devastating reality of his situation as he spoke the words, and fought to keep the smile on his face. Luckily for him, his husband was not looking at him, but at their entwined hands.

“Right,” he said, and Ryuichi didn’t understand why his husband sounded so despondent, so melancholy. Shouldn’t he be happy, or at least relieved? Nonchalant? Neutral? Anything other than this depression that Ryuichi didn’t understand, and didn’t even know where to begin to understand.

The White Lord stood up abruptly, hand leaving Ryuichi’s. “I have business to attend to.”

“Will it take you another week to complete it?” Ryuichi couldn’t help commenting snidely.

There was a long, quiet pause, in which Ryuichi desperately wished he hadn’t spoken.

“Perhaps,” was the answer, and then his husband was gone.

O.o o.O

He loved Keita.

He loved Keita still.

So why was he missing his husband, when he had scarcely been gone for two hours? Ryuichi was in the library, flipping through a large tome, and he pushed the heavy book away from himself, glaring at it before standing up and pacing in front of a window.

This morning he had woken up alone and cold, and he couldn’t help feeling abandoned after what had happened last night. What was it that drove his husband from Ryuichi’s bed even after what had transpired between them? Why couldn’t he bring himself to sleep next to Ryuichi if only for one night? Or did he find Ryuichi abhorrent after what had happened, disgusted by the possibility that his wife was a wanton, loose man, and not the virgin he was supposed to be? There were many playthings in the palace for the Queen and princesses, and Ryuichi could easily have experimented with one, or three, or even twenty. Who was to know the difference?

Stop thinking about it! Ryuichi scolded himself. Stop thinking about him! He felt as if he was betraying Keita, cheating on him, and even though he knew this was irrational, he couldn’t help it.

Ryuichi had no memento to remember Keita by; as a servant, Keita had next to no personal belongings, and those had been sent to his family after his death, leaving Ryuichi with nothing but memories. But memories fade and change over time, and Ryuichi often drove himself to tears when he would realise that he couldn’t remember exactly how Keita’s smile looked, or how Keita spoke his name, or how Keita had come so close to touching him all those times but had refrained because he was a bodyguard and Ryuichi was royalty and his body was supposed to be a treasure, a sampling of Heaven on Earth.

After Keita’s death, Ryuichi had devoted the next ten months to digging out the assassins that had appeared that night and destroying every single one of them; two had died in prison, one under torture, and the rest had been given public executions.

And still, it was not enough to avenge Keita. Nothing would be, and Ryuichi’s heart ached for him, just to have him near again, even if Ryuichi couldn’t have him and would never be able to.

Was he betraying his husband then, with his heart still full of Keita? But no, this was an arranged marriage; love did not factor into the equation, and Ryuichi didn’t have to be a loving wife to be a faithful wife.

He laid a hand on the windowpane. It felt cold to his touch, and Ryuichi leaned his cheek against it, cooling his hot skin. He sighed. Last night had been…Ryuichi had never known what it was like to have someone else’s heat so close to his own, to be touched so intimately, or just even to be kissed. It had awakened a need in him that had been dormant before, and Ryuichi craved to be kissed and held like he had last night.

Specifically, he wanted his husband to kiss and hold him like he had last night.

Ryuichi sighed against the window, feeling the moisture of his breath turn to droplets on the glass. It was raining outside today, and Ryuichi was stuck indoors unless he wanted to ruin his robes and catch pneumonia traipsing through the gardens in this weather.

He really should write to his sister; he had only written to her once, the day after he had arrived, to report back that all was well.

“Hikaru, Kaoru. Paper,” he said dully, seating himself back at the table.

Paper was given, and ink was prepared, and Ryuichi picked up the brush and rolled it in the ink, wondering where to begin.

O.o o.O

Manami sighed, tossing Ryuichi’s letter onto her desk. She snapped her fingers, waving her hand, and her favourite wife went to massage her shoulders. Manami sighed, rolling her neck.

“Your Majesty has many troubles,” came the voice of her wife. He was much younger than she, beautiful and demure, just the way Manami preferred her men and the way she had carefully bred Ryuichi to be.

“I worry about my brother.”

“You made the right decision.”

“Did I?” She rubbed her forehead, pinching the bridge of her nose as she tipped her head back. “I’m still not sure if it was the right thing to do.”

“Your Majesty has wisdom from the Heavens. It was what needed to be done.”

“But see what he wrote: ‘I must confess, Sister, that I am lonely.’ He’s not even trying to hide it anymore. And look at this: ‘Please, Sister, may I be allowed to visit, if only for a day?’ How can I read this letter from him and not doubt my decision?”

“What’s done has been done. He is married, and it is irreversible. We cannot do anything now, Your Majesty; the prince is no longer part of our household.”

“You are right. I just…” Manami sighed. “Perhaps…I shall send him a gift then, to let him know I have him at heart.”

“If Your Majesty permits, may I visit the prince?” Ryohei approached the issue delicately; as a wife, he was not allowed out of the palace without special permission. “I could deliver your gift in person, and you will also have report on how the prince is doing in his new home.”

“Very well then. Tomorrow you will go. We’ll send word tonight.” Manami didn’t even try to argue, and Ryohei felt secretly relieved. The latest letter he had received from Ryuichi worried him; it had been sent with Manami’s earlier today, and Ryohei could sense that Ryuichi needed a close friend to speak with – and who better than Ryohei, who had practically grown up with him inside the palace?

“Here,” Manami said, tossing a parchment to the side of her desk. “Instructions on preparing the gift I’m sending. It should provide him company, if nothing else.”

Ryohei spied a few words over the Queen’s shoulder. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

O.o o.O

“Ryohei!” Ryuichi was running as he burst into the entrance hall, hair and robes trailing along after him. “You’re here!”

Ryohei smiled warmly, kissing Ryuichi on both cheeks. “Ryuichi. You look good.”

“Ah.” Ryuichi looked down at himself. “New clothes, from my husband. He had some of the latest fashions brought in to fill out my wardrobe from the palace.”

“How is he, by the way?” Ryohei asked, as Ryuichi led him to another room where a table was set up for tea.

“Busy,” Ryuichi said, and Ryohei noted carefully the wry twist of Ryuichi’s lips at the mention of the White Lord.

“Do you know where he goes for business?”

Ryuichi shook his head, avoiding Ryohei’s eyes as he poured them both tea. “You’ve read my letters. We haven’t had much time or opportunity for conversation.”

“Hm. Is that so?” Ryohei said blandly, not wanting to tell Ryuichi that the White Lord had been staying at court.

“So how are you?” Ryuichi said, smiling as he lifted his cup of tea. “And how is my sister treating you?”

“As well as she can, with a dozen wives and hundreds more concubines,” Ryohei said with a laugh. “But I am well, for I know she loves me. The relationship between a husband and wife is sacred, after all.”

“Hmm,” Ryuichi hummed noncommittally.

“Are you unhappy here?”

Ryuichi tilted his head to the side. “Not…unhappy. Just…lonely.”

“Your letters to me complain of loneliness, but I daresay it goes deeper than that.” Ryohei set his teacup down with a decisive click. “Do you feel your husband abandoned you in his manor?”

“Sort of…yes…maybe…” Ryuichi sighed. “When he came home the other night I made myself as pretty as I could for him. And still, nothing. Just the usual ‘How are you?’ and ‘Is everything to your liking?’ I’d say if anything wasn’t to my liking! I’d ask if I wanted anything! Even yesterday morning, after…” And then Ryuichi trailed off, face hot, and tried to ignore Ryohei’s knowing gaze. “I can’t even be bothered today. Look at my hair! Look at me! No hairstyle, no jewellery…I just don’t care anymore.”

“Your Highness does not require ornamentation to be beautiful.”

“Oh, shut it, Ryohei. You’ve seen me piss my pants when I was five, and you’ve seen me with my head in the loo when I was fifteen and drunk out of my mind. You’ve lost all privilege for flattering rights.”

“Ryuichi,” Ryohei said sternly.

“I’m sorry,” Ryuichi grumbled, not sounding sorry at all.

“My dear, what do you know of your husband? Perhaps that’s where the problem lies. He knows only that you are the prince, the only brother to the Queen, and a treasure beyond measure. How is he to treat you but delicately, as if you were fragile enough to break at the slightest touch?”

“But I’m still a man, made of flesh and blood!” Ryuichi exclaimed, making a face.

“And he is just a man too,” Ryohei said quietly, “scarred and hurt, hiding behind a mask.”

The silence was sharp enough to slice through stone.

“That’s low,” Ryuichi said tightly.

“That’s true,” Ryohei countered. “What do you know of your husband? Have you tried to find out anything? You’re at home with his servants all day – do you not ask them anything?”

“I asked them what colour he liked and it turned into a bloody riot,” Ryuichi grumbled.

“Language,” Ryohei said without skipping a beat. “Have you asked about his friends? Have you asked about women friends?”

A flare of jealousy clouded Ryuichi’s mind briefly, settling down to a low simmer. “Women – my husband is not a kept man. He is a lord, and a successful businessman. He does not need to be kept by a woman.”

“And you know that for a fact?” Ryohei said smoothly, taking a sip of tea. “You know for a fact that he has no woman? You know that most of the people he deals with in high positions will be women. And he is very successful and a lord, as you said. There are only a few men at court, but three times as many women.”

“That’s – I – he wouldn’t…” Ryuichi didn’t know what to say. Was that why his husband treated him so coldly? Was it because he secretly belonged to another – to a woman?

“Or what of male friends? There are many men hanging around court, hoping to secure the interest of powerful women. And men. And your husband is one of the few powerful men in this country.”

Ryuichi couldn’t answer, staring dumbly into his cup of tea.

Ryohei leaned forward, placing a hand over Ryuichi’s. “Have you tried to be more accommodating to your husband? Be more understanding with him. To live behind a mask is no easy feat. To be talked about, to be feared…can you not understand why he treats you so coldly?”

“But I’m his wife…”

“Yes, and a mighty selfish one too, at that.”

“That’s…but…I just…” Ryuichi didn’t know what to say. Was that how his husband saw him? As a spoiled brat from the palace, demanding attention and care, sulking and complaining all day?

“Perhaps you ought to take some time and think about that. But enough about such serious topics. I have a gift for you, from the Queen.”

“The Queen?” Ryuichi tried to smile. “A gift? How kind.”

Ryohei was calling for the servants to send in the gift, but all Ryuichi could focus on was the slow sinking feeling in his stomach.

O.o o.O

Ryuichi was massaging his temples. He sat at his dressing table as Kaoru and Hikaru combed through his hair after his bath, clothed only in his gown.

“This is insane,” Ryuichi grumbled. “Stupid Ryohei. Stupid Manami.”

The twins wisely remained silent.

“Barely an hour and already I have a headache the size of an elephant. What the hell was she thinking? I’m going to kill her.”

“You can’t kill her, she’s the Queen.”

“SHUT UP, AKIRA! I DIDN’T ASK YOU!” Ryuichi shouted, banging his fists onto the table.

“Yes, Your Highness.” Akira pouted and lowered his head.

Shuji elbowed him in the side. “I told you not to speak.”

Akira answered by sticking his tongue out at Shuji.

“What am I going to do? That was a priceless vase. Priceless. You would’ve been hanged for this at the palace; did you think you could forget your manners here?”

“Mistress, please, have a cup of tea first,” Kaoru said softly, bowing his head deep.

Akira nudged Shuji, nodding his head where Hikaru hid the bottle of whiskey under the towels used to dry Ryuichi’s hair. Shuji’s eyes widened, but clamped his lips shut.

Ryuichi grabbed the cup and downed it in one gulp, and Kaoru hurriedly took it away before Ryuichi could slam it into the dresser. “The White Lord is going to kill me,” he groaned. And then he glared at Akira and Shuji through the reflection of his mirror. “Right after he kills you two.”

“Is it…irreplaceable?” Akira asked tentatively.

“ONE MORE WORD FROM YOU AKIRA, AND I SWEAR I’LL CUT YOUR TONGUE OFF MYSELF!” Ryuichi thundered, and Akira jumped and tried to hide behind Shuji. “Of course it’s not replaceable. Would it be priceless if it were?”

Hikaru fanned Ryuichi frantically. “Please, Mistress, do not strain your chi.”

Ryuichi took a deep breath, closing his eyes and willing himself to calm down. “Hikaru, Kaoru,” he said quietly, evenly. “Tell me the White Lord will not be returning tonight.”

The twins gave identical winces.

“When does he arrive?”

“After supper, Mistress,” Hikaru said.

“It is after supper,” Ryuichi ground out through clenched teeth.

“He is…due to arrive in twenty minutes, Mistress,” Kaoru said, checking the watch in his pocket.

The room suddenly went deathly quiet as Ryuichi paled. A heartbeat passed, and then the colour was rushing back to Ryuichi’s cheeks as his eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Shuji. Akira. I’m going to kill you!”

O.o o.O

The shattered pieces of the vase lay on the dinner table, right on top of the White Lord’s place setting. The White Lord himself sat at his seat, completely silent. Ryuichi stood to his left, with Shuji and Akira kneeling on the floor behind him.

Not a single word had been spoken since Ryuichi laid the broken pieces of porcelain before his husband. No one dared.

“How did this happen?” The White Lord’s voice was even and calm and showed no hint of any emotion other than mild curiosity.

“Shuji and Akira were jostling each other and knocked into the table, my lord.”

“And they would be your servants from the palace.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Gifts from your sister the Queen?”

“Yes, my lord.”

There was a pregnant pause.

“And how would this matter be handled within the palace?”

Ryuichi licked his lips. “They would be thrown into the dungeons, my lord.”

“The Queen once executed a servant for shattering a sculpture.”

Ryuichi was silent.

“Is this vase not priceless as well?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Should I not have them hanged, then, for daring to be so inappropriate around priceless treasure?”

Ryuichi fell to his knees, panicked tears filling his eyes. “My lord! They are my servants, and if they are unruly then it is the fault of the master. Please, do not harm them, for I have loved them for as many years as they have cared for me.”

“Did they think that just because they were outside of the palace they could behave in such a manner?”

“My lord, please. Even when a poorly trained dog attacks someone the master is blamed. Should I not be punished instead then, for training my servants inadequately?”

Akira started crying quietly, and Shuji was heard hushing him.

“My lady, this is not fair,” the White Lord said, turning in his seat to face Ryuichi. He leaned down, reaching out, lifting Ryuichi’s face by the chin to look directly at him, at the trembling lips and tear tracks over flushed cheeks. “I cannot punish you.”

“If it will satisfy my lord, I will go willingly to your dungeons.”

“How can I bear the thought of my beautiful wife in the dungeons?” the White Lord said gently, wiping Ryuichi’s tears with the pad of his thumb.

Ryuichi was dumbstruck, confused out of his mind as he continued to kneel before the White Lord. “My lord…?”

The White Lord sighed, fingertips lingering on Ryuichi’s face as if loath to give up contact. “When you give me such an ultimatum, what am I to do?”

Ryuichi felt guilty then, and the guilt darkened his cheeks further as he lowered his head once again.

“Shuji and Akira shall be locked in the dungeons for a week. But worry not, my lady, they will not be mistreated. You may visit as often as you wish.”

“My lord, thank you,” Ryuichi said breathlessly, still unsure of what had happened to have his husband reach his decision.

“They are gifts to you from the Queen; no doubt they were sent with the thought they would give you comfort and company.” A bitter smile twisted the White Lord’s lips. “I would not deny you that.”

“Thank you,” Ryuichi said again, but couldn’t say anything else as his husband lifted him to stand.

The White Lord sighed again, the very tip of his index and middle finger just barely touching Ryuichi’s lips, tracing lightly, and Ryuichi stopped breathing, lips parted as gooseflesh rose deliciously over his skin at his husband’s touch.

“My lord,” Ryuichi breathed out, having no idea that his pupils had widened until his brown irises looked completely black.

The White Lord took in a sharp breath and dropped his hand, turning his back to Ryuichi.

“My lord! Husband!” Ryuichi called, when the White Lord strode away without another word. And then Ryuichi turned away, angry tears spilling out of his eyes uncontrollably.

Shuji and Akira were at his feet, kissing the hem of his robes, and Ryuichi sank to the floor, holding them to him as he cried, guilty for manipulating his husband, elated at the result, despondent at his husband’s rejection of him, and angry for desiring his husband’s touch when he was still in love with Keita.

O.o o.O

Part 4