A Crown of Thorns

A soft sigh would escape his lips before he’d shut the door behind him, taking a seat in one of the chairs in the room. It seemed they had a lot to talk about.

“I can let this lie slide, but I would think you to have more trust in me. If you meant me harm, you would have had all the opportunity in the world and yet you never have. You have given me no reason to fear you.” While Lu was mildly annoyed, this wasn’t something that would cause any permanent damage to their friendship but far. It just meant Lu had some work to do in making Berkut feel 100% comfortable.

“I doubt this new piece of information will change much. I will certainly have my questions and concerns, but the relative dynamic should remain the same.”

--

Berkut could scarcely believe his ears. “Y... You’ll stay here? With me? Truly???” he asked, eyes going wide as if Luthier had promised him the world on a silver platter. “You’re the... first in what feels like eons...” He tried to wipe at his eyes, but only succeeded in smearing blood everywhere. 

Well, for the moment it seemed they hadn’t been caught. That was the most he could be thankful for here.

The mage would take a seat in a nearby chair, where he’d watch Berkut carefully. He was still rather wary from the confrontation moments ago.

With Berkut removing his shirt, Lu would go ahead and unbutton the few buttons on the back of his robe, the fabric sliding down his shoulders in response. Better to just get this over with and maybe he could go back to his book.

Berkut stalked up to Luthier, pausing to stoop down and press yet another burning kiss to his lips. Then, with his hands trailing down the flat expanse of his stomach, he knelt down before the redheaded mage.

[ @devotedrigelianflower​ submitted: ]

Dear Prince Berkut of Rigel,

       I, Lady Rinea, hereby send this letter for a termination of marriage engagement due to catching you having an affair with a man. If you had simply told me that you are attracted to men sooner, I would have understood. I know you will tell me that I am just overthinking this but here let me remind you of your own words in those halls. Such as, “What an intriguing way of putting it… After all, I seem to remember the so-called ‘servicing’ going both ways… Are you honestly trying to imply you didn’t like it, then?” Or perhaps when you said, “I get my needs fulfilled, and my dearly beloved gets to stay pure until the day of our wedding without me sullying her innocence with my sinful desires. Everyone wins in this situation – why would you ever want to ruin it?”  Sound familiar? Why it’s because I saw and heard everything you did.

I will not tolerate marrying someone who will have a mistress on the side before and after marriage. You broke my heart and I will never love you nor trust you ever again. I have attached the engagement ring to this letter to show that I will not be returning to your side. 

From your former fiancée,

Lady Rinea

P.S: I will make sure that the Emperor is aware of all of this and give him all of the details.

 ~*~

Berkut blinked, hands shaking as he read the letter. He thought back to the footsteps he heard in the corridor -- had she been listening in the whole time? She had heard everything? Curses -- he’d gotten sloppy and presumptuous. He should have been much more careful, but there was no use lamenting that now.

He frowned, stashing the letter into his breast pocket as he rose to his feet and marched over to the women’s barracks. Finding her room easily, he pounded on her door forcefully, mouth set in a grim frown. This was nothing. He’d surely get her to see his point of view.

An ‘understanding’, of course. Luthier certainly understood that he wasn’t going to be left alone until he either gave him what he wanted, or got the shit beaten out of him. He wanted to avoid the latter.

So when Berkut moved to press his lips against his own, he learned forward and kissed back. At least, until he suddenly jerked away.

Damn, that was exactly what he feared. No one was supposed to know he let Berkut do this and by the gods he hoped it wasn’t Delthea.

With no question he’d hurry into the room with him, hoping for the best.

--

Berkut paused by the door, listening just in case the mysterious person was coming closer, but to his relief, the footsteps seemed to be fading away. A false alarm, then. Still, it couldn’t hurt to be careful. They’d have to stay in this room until they were done. 

He smirked, turning back to Luthier, easily stripping off his shirt and throwing it onto a nearby chair. “Now, where were we...” he chuckled darkly. He was going to be on his best behavior this time. He was going to treat Luthier so well that he’d never question Berkut or think about ending things again.

Gods, he hated that spark of fear as he was suddenly spun around and the threat of harm thrust upon his shoulders. Of course he didn’t want that. Of course he didn’t want her to have to see him like that.

However, he didn’t see why he had to act like he absolutely loved the current arrangement as well. He could hate it, but still put up with it, but it would seem he wasn’t granted even that luxury.

“Of course not. This is… much better.” Just those words alone made him want to gag, but frankly he didn’t feel like getting strangled right this second.

--

Of course, it was about control with Berkut. It always was. Control... and validation. He craved both from any source he could wring them from, and unfortunately for Luthier, he considered the mage a ripe source of both. The flash of fear in his eyes wasn’t lost to him. It made him smile to see that his place was well understood.

However... it didn’t mean that Berkut wouldn’t do his best to reward him for falling into line. After all... Some troubled part of him wanted Luthier to like him just as much as he liked the mage. A futile endeavor, but it seemed that was his favorite kind. 

“Good... I knew we’d reach an understanding...” Berkut chuckled, craning his neck forward so he could kiss Luthier on the lips. But then, he realized with alarm that he heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps in the empty corridor, and he promptly panicked.

“I’m not going to argue biology versus morality with you today.” He frankly thought the difference would be obvious, but this was Berkut he was speaking to.

Deciding he’d mouthed off enough, and wasn’t about to push his luck, he leans back into the others touch with one hand moving to rest in Berkuts hair.

--

Berkut stiffened again, glowering at Luthier from behind. At the gentle caress, he jerked away from Luthier’s touch and spun the mage around so that he could glare into his eyes. “Morality?” he scoffed. “Hmpf. Would you rather we went back to our old ways of doing things? With you waking up in the infirmary with broken ribs and your sister crying at your side? I still wouldn’t hesitate to put you in your place, you know. Regardless of our little arrangement.”

Oh, let me reminisce, you whining old crow.

Julius’ eyes had lit up with their grand and pompous recounting of times more elegant, in their opinion, and they weren’t taking Berkut’s shooting it down too kindly.

They stand from where the two were perched - on some roof scraping the sky, you can imagine these two extra fools would never just sit and talk somewhere more normal.

You’re telling me right now you don’t miss the old parties? The gorgeous waltzes, the gigantic dresses? I don’t recall anything dreadful about it!

Berkut shot the younger vampire an unimpressed look, and adjusted his glasses, taking another sip from the glass of spice-infused blood he swirled about in his hand. 

“Those were a futile waste of time, and you know it,” he answered once he was done. “And you’re also forgetting something, too -- witch hunts. Don’t you remember those? A mighty grand time those were! Having to spend every day scraping by for survival in the forest, afraid that if anyone caught on to your presence, a mob of angry humans would be bursting down the door to your cottage and staking you through the chest before you could breathe?”

He rolled his eyes. “Or how about the time before waste management was integrated into the public? Don’t you remember the heavenly scent of the entire town’s lunch from the day before crawling through your nostrils as you searched for prey? Please.”

The mage was completely unaware as Berkut approached, completely engrossed in his newest read. There were many fascinating texts in the castle, of lands he’d never seen and legends he’d never heard of. To say he was enchanted would be quite the understatement.

Yet of course, as the fates would have it, he’d be interrupted and by Berkut no less.

A soft sigh would escape Luthier’s lips as he felt arms wrap around his waist. He needn’t even ask who it was. “You’re back sooner than I expected.” He tried not to sound as unenthused as he actually felt, not feeling up to dealing with his ire.

“I take it you’re in need of service then?” He’d mumble, as blunt and to the point as always.

Berkut spluttered at that, momentarily taken aback. “In need of service?” he echoed, fuming. After a tense silence, he chuckled, resting his chin on Luthier’s shoulder. “What an intriguing way of putting it... After all, I seem to remember the so-called ‘servicing’ going both ways... Are you honestly trying to imply you didn’t like it, then?”

So much freedom had undoubtedly tainted the proud prince’s sense of decorum. Such a long hiatus away from all those stifling expectations and responsibilities made him feel as though he owed the world nothing but his strength. But at the same time, it had done nothing to curb his selfishness or propensity to think that he was owed the heavens and the earth.

As a result, he had the unfortunate habit of demanding things he wanted the seconds he wanted them. And there was one particular someone who had caught his eye.

Truly, it was laughable when he thought of how their impromptu relationship had started. As with many things, it began with physical violence. Berkut was certain he despised the mage, then. But as time went on, he kept seeking him out -- at first to antagonize him, but soon it became apparent that he simply craved the redhead’s attention and would do anything to get it. At first, he achieved this end with harassment, but he soon refined those attention seeking skills in a novel way.

Here in this secluded stretch of Askr’s sacred halls, he made himself known, practically ambushing the slightly older mage. Strong arms wound around his midsection as Berkut gave that same infuriating smirk he always did when he assumed he’d be getting what he wanted.

[Me, even more days late LMAO]

Berkut froze in place, eyes wide as his honored guest entered his room without so much as a knock to announce his presence. He had been in the midst of cleaning his face and hands of a rather messy blood meal he had just partaken in. Panic quickly set in. He still hadn’t divulged this secret to him – it was well known in the land of Rigel, but a closely guarded secret from Zofians. 

“I-I know this seems alarming…” came the tentative gulp. “But I assure you – no one died. I-I was simply brought a maid that was… unaccustomed to the process, and she jerked away from me as I bit her, and that led to lacerations, and–”

[@despotbled, lord help us.] Berkut ran his fingers through Reinhardt's short hair in that familiar way he always did when he wanted to speak to the man in confidence. "Sir Reinhardt, you've done well..." he murmured softly. "Thanks to your help, my beloved won that silly tournament soundly. But there is something... quite important that I wanted to speak to you about. Only you. As my trusted adviser..." Those intense brown eyes stared up at him, unwavering.

“I’m glad, my lord.”

Truthfully, he hadn’t been intending to enter the tournament in the first place–but he was unspeakably relieved that the outcome had been to his lord’s approval. He scarcely wanted to imagine the ire that would have resulted otherwise. Being granted the designation of ‘trusted adviser’ despite his near-fatal blunder in the tournament did much to quell the lingering fear in his heart.

“Tell me, then–are there more orders you wish for me to carry out? I stand ready to fulfill any command I am given.”

Ah, Reinhardt. The perfect subordinate. The perfect, stupid, gullible subordinate. Berkut could probably tell him to chop off his own hand and he’d fulfill his duty without a single word of complaint. In essence, he was the perfect tool. And one Berkut needed to guard at any cost. 

“Ah, no commands this time... Only a... word of advice. A warning, if you will,” Berkut replied smoothly. “It’s about my dearest Rinea... I’m afraid that our stunning showing in support for her inadvertently drew her ire...”

He frowned up at the man, trying to show how Clearly Upset he truly was. Honestly. Not making this up. “You see, though my Rinea seems very sweet and loving on the outside, in secret she has quite the jealous streak... She’s seen how close we’ve gotten through bonding over several events, and has let me know in private how upset it makes her.”

Then a deceptively charismatic smile. “I think it would be best if you avoided her from now on... For your sake more than mine, you see. If we were to carry on as we do now, flaunting our near unshakable bond in front of her... Well.”