FIC: Into the Indefinite Sky : CH 1 (Yuuram, AU)
Hello again! I decided to post it early because of it being Easter. Hope this is a nice treat for some of you. ^_^
Title: Into the Indefinite Sky
Author: S.P. Kathrine
Anime: Kyou Kara Maou
Genre: AU, Angst/Drama, Romance
Pairing: YuurixWolfram
Rating: M-MA (R-NC17)
Chapter: Chapter 01 / ???
Warnings: Angst, Non-Consensual Sexual themes (referenced/implied), AU, OOC Wolfram, possibly OOC everyone else
Disclaimer: I do not own KKM. If I did…Wolfram would never get out of bed…for many different reasons….
Summary:
Wolf had spent his life believing that he was meant for servitude. His master was strict, and often cruel, but he never thought he could be anything more than what he was. One night changes everything and he is thrown into a world that he knows nothing about and given a life he never thought he could have. But a secret he keeps could only throw his life into further turmoil and not to mention the Demon King…
Beta: nekokatechan
Chapter 1 - Fly to Those Eyes
It hurt to move too far or stretch, but after five days the pain had subsided. The punishment he had taken over dropping the tray of bowls on the floor had been brutal, to the point that he had to been unable to move for a full day. The other two servants, Hilde and a young barmaid, Bertha, had to work overtime to pick up his slack. But he was only given a day to recover and before sunrise the day after he was up and helping prepare breakfast for the patrons. He was forced to take everything slowly for those three days and as such had to wake early so he wouldn’t run late in his chores. Master Verik would have punished him for that as well.
The night before had been a bustle of activity. New customers had arrived late in the night, but he had not been allowed to see them. Master Verik had ordered him to the storage room and then locked him in. While the door could be locked from both sides, the outside lock could not be opened from within. Hilde had come to him late in the night and talked about the new arrivals. She had said that it was a group of at least twelve men, two young boys, and a small girl-child. They didn’t look it from the nondescript attire, but acted the part of military and nobility.
From what she had overheard between some men (of the whom she thought to be soldiers as she served them), they were heading home from Tresfar, the capital of the Kingdom of Meika, after a representative council with a few of their allies and had decided to take a less direct route. There were not enough rooms in the inn; so many of the men had camped outside in the large fields nearby. Only three men, the boys, and girl had acquired rooms for the night. They were returning to the road the next day.
Hilde had spoke of it as if The Great One himself had come for a visit. Never before had people of such important come towards the nearby town, let alone their establishment, The High Talon. She said that Verik treated them as if each one was Meikan royalty. It made Wolf laugh to think of his master throwing himself at the travelers in such a way.
That day, he had been awakened before dawn, but earlier than usual, by Master Verik and sent out to buy groceries from the town market. The town had been growing as of late and so the market was always teeming with farmers, merchants, and consumers by nine. The trip to the market was two and a half hours long with the horse and cart, so he was not likely to be back until after lunch hour. It was not something unusual. Master Verik seemed to enjoy making him do the jobs that most would think better suited to women. He had even forced Hilde to teach him how to sew years ago so that he could help her with mending clothes.
He had departed before the sun had even peeked over the horizon. When he had started down the road, he had felt as if someone was watching him. Looking towards the inn, he caught sight of someone in one of the upper floor windows. It was a boy, that he could tell, even though it was dark and from a distance. The curtain had been pulled closed and he had turned away, pulling his cloak up over his head. They would most likely be gone before he returned as well.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Even though it was summer, there were still days where the wind lowered the temperature down and extra clothing was needed. It seemed like the coolness of the morning had not let out, but rather chilled even more. It was probably due to the clouds that had started to roll in that morning as he drove the cart to the market, but Hilde would have said that it was an omen seeing as the day before had been so bright and clear-skied. Thankfully, he always brought the tarp when he used the cart, just in case something should occur. It was better to be cautious than to worry of Master Verik’s wrath.
Intuition proved correct as it started to rain when he was acquiring the new clothing that Master Verik had ordered three weeks before. The cost of the clothing was more than all of the food and supplies prices combined. It angered him the way his master flaunted wealth they didn’t have, making the servants to work for less-he was a slave and would work no matter the conditions-so that he could spend more. At the same time, they had nowhere else to go. He could go nowhere else. He was a slave. While Meika prohibited the selling of slaves in its borders, it upheld the slavery contracts from other countries. Meikans could not buy Meikans, but they could buy foreigners outside of the country.
That was how Verik had come to own him in the first place. He had been traveling years before in the neighboring country of Keturk, heading towards the coast so as to catch a ship to Dai Shimaron and was pushed into a card game. He had been losing until the final bet where both he and his opponent, Wolf’s former Master, Zanter, had placed their most valuable possessions nearby as profit. Verik had bet the deed to The High Talon, Zanter had bet him. Out of a complete stroke of luck, Verik had won and become his new Master.
He remembered the fight he had put up. He had been Zanter’s slave for only three or four years, but he had also been one of the kindest masters he’d ever had, despite his gambling habit. But his protests went unheard. Zanter stayed true to his debt and he left with his new Master Verik the next day. It was not the first day he had wished for the courage to kill himself, but that night had been the one time he came close to it. Whatever confidence and freedoms Zanter had allowed to grow in him died within less than twelve hours
It’s not a good day to think of the past, he decided as he subconsciously rubbed his left wrist.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The rain worsened as he neared home, the unpaved road was becoming less sturdy, mud sliding about beneath the wheels of the horse and cart.
“Come on, Gris,” he coaxed the temperamental horse. Storms always upset him in some way and most often it was music of some sort that soothed his nerves. It was something that he was uncomfortable with because of how much Hilde would make a fuss over it. Even though she was nowhere near at the moment, he was still self-conscious. Softly at first, he started to hum. He increased the volume so as the dappled work horse could hear him over the rolling thunder.
Gris neighed agitatedly, shaking his head as he slowed to a stop.
“No, Gris,” he frowned. “The inn is only around the bend. Just keep moving. Master Verik will be very angry if we’re any later than we already are.”
The horse obviously wasn’t concerned with the possibility of upsetting their owner. He reared back, jarring the cart and causing Wolf to cling to the reins in earnest as the began to stomp his feet.
This won’t end well, the blond thought absently. He’s going to keep doing this the entire way and it will take forever to-
Lightning struck for the first time in their vicinity and thunder boomed like a drum the size of a mountain just over their heads. Gris let out a loud shriek-like noise before jerking and rushing down the road, unknowingly towing Wolf and the cart behind him.
“GRIS!” he cried, but his voice was watered down by the storm. He lowered himself against the cart, tugging at the reins as his hood flew away from his face, leaving him even more vulnerable to the elements. He could hear and feel the supplies in the back as they were thrown back and forth against the sides of the cart bed. At the moment, they weren’t even his first priority.
He let out a loud, “Whoa!” but the horse was too spooked to listen or comprehend the need. Gris sped down the road and around the bend; the cart going onto two wheels and Wolf clutched the bench to keep himself from being unseated. With a thump and squish of the muddy road, it righted itself, not that any of it registered to the frightened work horse that had all but taken the cart and its inhabitants hostage.
Wolf was frantic. What am I going to do? He could see the inn only about a hundred yards away and if the horse didn’t stop, not only would they pass it, but he did not doubt they would eventually overturn, thus ruining all of the purchases, and incurring Master Verik’s wrath. Gris was already on his last leg with Master Verik. He wanted to kill the horse and use his meat for a stew, at least he would make a better profit of him that way, the barkeeper had said.
He had the fleeting thought of what would happen if both he and the cart took that final tumble. Would he live? Would he die? Would the Great One be so merciful? And then another thread entered his mind. Did he WANT to die that way? Gruesome, alone, in pain until his last breath? No, he did not.
Steeling his courage, Wolf lifted himself slightly off of the bench, wrapping the rained around both of his arms. “STOP, YOU DAMN HORSE!!” he shouted, tugging on the reins with all of the strength he could muster, and some he knew he didn’t even have. The leather of the reins rubbed harshly through his shirts sleeves. His back burned, and his arms felt as if they would be wrenched off of his body completely at any moment, but he did not falter. They had to-
“STOP!”
He stared in shock as someone jumped in the path of the cart and Gris reared back, jostling everything at the suddenness of it. Wolf let out a brief cry of disbelief and pain, but still held to the reins. The cart came to a muddy halt; dirty water splashing about them and onto the stranger. Wolf was jolted, his hood falling back in place on his head and face. Hooves falling back to the ground, Gris neighed loudly, but the person grabbed onto his harness and steadied his shaking head. His savior placed a hand on the work horse’s quivering neck, petting him calmly.
“That’s it,” he cooed. “Good boy, you don’t have to be afraid. Everything’s all right now…”
Wolf stared at him before looking to the side in amazement. Right there was The High Talon. They had stopped right in front of the inn entrance. Unsteadily, he unwrapped the stiff reins from his arms, both hands trembling as blood rushed back into them. He felt as if he could pass out from both the exhaustion and the pain. I know this stunt cost me at least six years of my life, he reflected.
“Are you all right?!” He gazed ahead and saw the one who had rescued him, staring at him with wide eyes. It was a boy, hair and eyes seeming dark, although it could have been due to the fact that he was soaked through from having no cloak or outer protection.
“Y-Yes,” he nodded in a wavering fashion. “I’m fine. Thank you, very much for your help, Young Master.”
“Young what?” the boy’s eyes were now confused, and even though he could see them clearly, they were obviously open, deep dark depths. Leaving Gris to be now that he was calm, he rushed to the side of the cart and extended a hand to the blond. “I’ll help you down.”
“That is all right, Young Master,” he assured him. “I am not injured so I will-”
His hand was taken against his will and he was gently tugged towards the edge of the bench. Holding his cloak to him with his free hand, he allowed the boy to assist him in getting down from the high seat. When his feet touched the ground, his legs almost buckled, but the boy once again was there, helping him to stand.
“I’ve got you,” he said, a smile on his lips. “Your body just needs to catch up with itself.”
Wolf looked up through his messy bangs and hood into a kind face. Who was this boy? Why had he helped him?
“Yuuri!”
Voices called out from the front door as people exited and rushed towards them. They appeared to be two men and another boy. Wolf looked between them and instantly pushed himself away from the dark-haired boy who had all but saved his life. Bowing, he backed away even more.
“Thank you for your kind assistance, young master,” he said gratefully, “but I must go and unload the supplies in the kitchen.” With that he turned away picked up the reins from where they were draped over Gris’ back. Giving a light tug, he directed the horse around the side of the building. He could still feel those deep eyes staring at him as he went.
This is it for today. Now more of the players are taking the stage. Next chapter will be out around Friday/Saturday.
Title: Into the Indefinite Sky
Author: S.P. Kathrine
Anime: Kyou Kara Maou
Genre: AU, Angst/Drama, Romance
Pairing: YuurixWolfram
Rating: M-MA (R-NC17)
Chapter: Chapter 01 / ???
Warnings: Angst, Non-Consensual Sexual themes (referenced/implied), AU, OOC Wolfram, possibly OOC everyone else
Disclaimer: I do not own KKM. If I did…Wolfram would never get out of bed…for many different reasons….
Summary:
Wolf had spent his life believing that he was meant for servitude. His master was strict, and often cruel, but he never thought he could be anything more than what he was. One night changes everything and he is thrown into a world that he knows nothing about and given a life he never thought he could have. But a secret he keeps could only throw his life into further turmoil and not to mention the Demon King…
Beta: nekokatechan
Chapter 1 - Fly to Those Eyes
It hurt to move too far or stretch, but after five days the pain had subsided. The punishment he had taken over dropping the tray of bowls on the floor had been brutal, to the point that he had to been unable to move for a full day. The other two servants, Hilde and a young barmaid, Bertha, had to work overtime to pick up his slack. But he was only given a day to recover and before sunrise the day after he was up and helping prepare breakfast for the patrons. He was forced to take everything slowly for those three days and as such had to wake early so he wouldn’t run late in his chores. Master Verik would have punished him for that as well.
The night before had been a bustle of activity. New customers had arrived late in the night, but he had not been allowed to see them. Master Verik had ordered him to the storage room and then locked him in. While the door could be locked from both sides, the outside lock could not be opened from within. Hilde had come to him late in the night and talked about the new arrivals. She had said that it was a group of at least twelve men, two young boys, and a small girl-child. They didn’t look it from the nondescript attire, but acted the part of military and nobility.
From what she had overheard between some men (of the whom she thought to be soldiers as she served them), they were heading home from Tresfar, the capital of the Kingdom of Meika, after a representative council with a few of their allies and had decided to take a less direct route. There were not enough rooms in the inn; so many of the men had camped outside in the large fields nearby. Only three men, the boys, and girl had acquired rooms for the night. They were returning to the road the next day.
Hilde had spoke of it as if The Great One himself had come for a visit. Never before had people of such important come towards the nearby town, let alone their establishment, The High Talon. She said that Verik treated them as if each one was Meikan royalty. It made Wolf laugh to think of his master throwing himself at the travelers in such a way.
That day, he had been awakened before dawn, but earlier than usual, by Master Verik and sent out to buy groceries from the town market. The town had been growing as of late and so the market was always teeming with farmers, merchants, and consumers by nine. The trip to the market was two and a half hours long with the horse and cart, so he was not likely to be back until after lunch hour. It was not something unusual. Master Verik seemed to enjoy making him do the jobs that most would think better suited to women. He had even forced Hilde to teach him how to sew years ago so that he could help her with mending clothes.
He had departed before the sun had even peeked over the horizon. When he had started down the road, he had felt as if someone was watching him. Looking towards the inn, he caught sight of someone in one of the upper floor windows. It was a boy, that he could tell, even though it was dark and from a distance. The curtain had been pulled closed and he had turned away, pulling his cloak up over his head. They would most likely be gone before he returned as well.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Even though it was summer, there were still days where the wind lowered the temperature down and extra clothing was needed. It seemed like the coolness of the morning had not let out, but rather chilled even more. It was probably due to the clouds that had started to roll in that morning as he drove the cart to the market, but Hilde would have said that it was an omen seeing as the day before had been so bright and clear-skied. Thankfully, he always brought the tarp when he used the cart, just in case something should occur. It was better to be cautious than to worry of Master Verik’s wrath.
Intuition proved correct as it started to rain when he was acquiring the new clothing that Master Verik had ordered three weeks before. The cost of the clothing was more than all of the food and supplies prices combined. It angered him the way his master flaunted wealth they didn’t have, making the servants to work for less-he was a slave and would work no matter the conditions-so that he could spend more. At the same time, they had nowhere else to go. He could go nowhere else. He was a slave. While Meika prohibited the selling of slaves in its borders, it upheld the slavery contracts from other countries. Meikans could not buy Meikans, but they could buy foreigners outside of the country.
That was how Verik had come to own him in the first place. He had been traveling years before in the neighboring country of Keturk, heading towards the coast so as to catch a ship to Dai Shimaron and was pushed into a card game. He had been losing until the final bet where both he and his opponent, Wolf’s former Master, Zanter, had placed their most valuable possessions nearby as profit. Verik had bet the deed to The High Talon, Zanter had bet him. Out of a complete stroke of luck, Verik had won and become his new Master.
He remembered the fight he had put up. He had been Zanter’s slave for only three or four years, but he had also been one of the kindest masters he’d ever had, despite his gambling habit. But his protests went unheard. Zanter stayed true to his debt and he left with his new Master Verik the next day. It was not the first day he had wished for the courage to kill himself, but that night had been the one time he came close to it. Whatever confidence and freedoms Zanter had allowed to grow in him died within less than twelve hours
It’s not a good day to think of the past, he decided as he subconsciously rubbed his left wrist.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The rain worsened as he neared home, the unpaved road was becoming less sturdy, mud sliding about beneath the wheels of the horse and cart.
“Come on, Gris,” he coaxed the temperamental horse. Storms always upset him in some way and most often it was music of some sort that soothed his nerves. It was something that he was uncomfortable with because of how much Hilde would make a fuss over it. Even though she was nowhere near at the moment, he was still self-conscious. Softly at first, he started to hum. He increased the volume so as the dappled work horse could hear him over the rolling thunder.
Gris neighed agitatedly, shaking his head as he slowed to a stop.
“No, Gris,” he frowned. “The inn is only around the bend. Just keep moving. Master Verik will be very angry if we’re any later than we already are.”
The horse obviously wasn’t concerned with the possibility of upsetting their owner. He reared back, jarring the cart and causing Wolf to cling to the reins in earnest as the began to stomp his feet.
This won’t end well, the blond thought absently. He’s going to keep doing this the entire way and it will take forever to-
Lightning struck for the first time in their vicinity and thunder boomed like a drum the size of a mountain just over their heads. Gris let out a loud shriek-like noise before jerking and rushing down the road, unknowingly towing Wolf and the cart behind him.
“GRIS!” he cried, but his voice was watered down by the storm. He lowered himself against the cart, tugging at the reins as his hood flew away from his face, leaving him even more vulnerable to the elements. He could hear and feel the supplies in the back as they were thrown back and forth against the sides of the cart bed. At the moment, they weren’t even his first priority.
He let out a loud, “Whoa!” but the horse was too spooked to listen or comprehend the need. Gris sped down the road and around the bend; the cart going onto two wheels and Wolf clutched the bench to keep himself from being unseated. With a thump and squish of the muddy road, it righted itself, not that any of it registered to the frightened work horse that had all but taken the cart and its inhabitants hostage.
Wolf was frantic. What am I going to do? He could see the inn only about a hundred yards away and if the horse didn’t stop, not only would they pass it, but he did not doubt they would eventually overturn, thus ruining all of the purchases, and incurring Master Verik’s wrath. Gris was already on his last leg with Master Verik. He wanted to kill the horse and use his meat for a stew, at least he would make a better profit of him that way, the barkeeper had said.
He had the fleeting thought of what would happen if both he and the cart took that final tumble. Would he live? Would he die? Would the Great One be so merciful? And then another thread entered his mind. Did he WANT to die that way? Gruesome, alone, in pain until his last breath? No, he did not.
Steeling his courage, Wolf lifted himself slightly off of the bench, wrapping the rained around both of his arms. “STOP, YOU DAMN HORSE!!” he shouted, tugging on the reins with all of the strength he could muster, and some he knew he didn’t even have. The leather of the reins rubbed harshly through his shirts sleeves. His back burned, and his arms felt as if they would be wrenched off of his body completely at any moment, but he did not falter. They had to-
“STOP!”
He stared in shock as someone jumped in the path of the cart and Gris reared back, jostling everything at the suddenness of it. Wolf let out a brief cry of disbelief and pain, but still held to the reins. The cart came to a muddy halt; dirty water splashing about them and onto the stranger. Wolf was jolted, his hood falling back in place on his head and face. Hooves falling back to the ground, Gris neighed loudly, but the person grabbed onto his harness and steadied his shaking head. His savior placed a hand on the work horse’s quivering neck, petting him calmly.
“That’s it,” he cooed. “Good boy, you don’t have to be afraid. Everything’s all right now…”
Wolf stared at him before looking to the side in amazement. Right there was The High Talon. They had stopped right in front of the inn entrance. Unsteadily, he unwrapped the stiff reins from his arms, both hands trembling as blood rushed back into them. He felt as if he could pass out from both the exhaustion and the pain. I know this stunt cost me at least six years of my life, he reflected.
“Are you all right?!” He gazed ahead and saw the one who had rescued him, staring at him with wide eyes. It was a boy, hair and eyes seeming dark, although it could have been due to the fact that he was soaked through from having no cloak or outer protection.
“Y-Yes,” he nodded in a wavering fashion. “I’m fine. Thank you, very much for your help, Young Master.”
“Young what?” the boy’s eyes were now confused, and even though he could see them clearly, they were obviously open, deep dark depths. Leaving Gris to be now that he was calm, he rushed to the side of the cart and extended a hand to the blond. “I’ll help you down.”
“That is all right, Young Master,” he assured him. “I am not injured so I will-”
His hand was taken against his will and he was gently tugged towards the edge of the bench. Holding his cloak to him with his free hand, he allowed the boy to assist him in getting down from the high seat. When his feet touched the ground, his legs almost buckled, but the boy once again was there, helping him to stand.
“I’ve got you,” he said, a smile on his lips. “Your body just needs to catch up with itself.”
Wolf looked up through his messy bangs and hood into a kind face. Who was this boy? Why had he helped him?
“Yuuri!”
Voices called out from the front door as people exited and rushed towards them. They appeared to be two men and another boy. Wolf looked between them and instantly pushed himself away from the dark-haired boy who had all but saved his life. Bowing, he backed away even more.
“Thank you for your kind assistance, young master,” he said gratefully, “but I must go and unload the supplies in the kitchen.” With that he turned away picked up the reins from where they were draped over Gris’ back. Giving a light tug, he directed the horse around the side of the building. He could still feel those deep eyes staring at him as he went.
This is it for today. Now more of the players are taking the stage. Next chapter will be out around Friday/Saturday.