Fic: Imperfect are the Wicked and the Just (5/?)
Title: Imperfect are the Wicked and the Just
Author: pterawaters
Rating: NC-17
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Kurt, Puck, Blaine, ND; Rod Remington/Everyone, Puck/Kurt, Puck/Blaine, Puck/Kurt/Blaine, Finn/Quinn, Sam/Quinn, Mike/Tina, Brittany/Santana
Genre: AU, Intrigue, Drama, Romance
Warning: Lots of dub-con, non-con both violent and otherwise, slash, minors of consenting age having sex, possible on-page character death
Spoilers: Not really. Characters exist. S1 events.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee at all. No money is being made.
Author Notes: I've been working on this one for awhile and hit a wall about 15,000 words in, right when I get to the main problem of the story. I'm hoping that getting feedback by posting one chapter per week will help kick-start this baby and get me to finish it.
Word Count: 3200 (this chapter) | 15K (so far)
Summary: In the country where Kurt lives, it is the king's right to take every citizen to his bed on that person's sixteenth birthday. It is also the king's privilege to offer his favorite citizens a place in his harem, for a substantial reward. The reward offered to Kurt is greater than he can pass up and he finds himself drawn into a world of sex, intrigue, and danger.
Chapter 1
Previous Chapter
Chapter 5
The next week, Kurt got called to the king's chambers. "C'mon, pretty boy," a guard Kurt had quickly learned was named Azimio called from the foot of the big staircase. "His Majesty wants you there when he gets out of this diplomatic dinner. Shake a leg!"
Checking his hair one last time and taking a long breath, Kurt walked toward the stairs, stopping only to let Puck whisper in his ear, "You'll be fine, babe. I promise." Kurt tried to believe him.
Kurt followed Azimio out of the South Wing and through the castle. They passed grand foyers and a busy-sounding ballroom and lots of guards and service staff, but not one noble as far as Kurt could tell. Maybe they were taking mostly service routes, Kurt surmised, trying not to look too wide-eyed as he walked. He'd been so sheltered in the harem for almost six weeks that he'd almost forgotten he was in the palace in the first place.
Eventually Azimio led him past a full company of guards and into a more private-looking wing. Kurt recognized the king's chambers from his birthday visit and tried not to look as nervous as he felt. He wasn't the same blushing virgin who had come here almost two months previous. He wasn't - crap, he was still pretty much the same, wasn't he? It felt like it didn't matter that he'd slept with Puck three times already. It didn't matter that he'd fooled around with Blaine on more than one occasion as well.
He still wasn't ready to face the king and do whatever the man wished of him. He wouldn't back down now, though. Hummels were stubborn people and he wanted his prize more than anything else in the world, even his dignity, and that was saying something. Kurt would make himself do this. His future depended on it.
Azimio showed Kurt through a sitting chamber and into a large bedroom that Kurt thought he recognized from his birthday, but he wasn't quite sure. "You stay here," the guard growled, giving him a disgusted sort of look before stomping away and closing the door behind him. He must have been one of those religious minorities who taught that men were wrong to have sex with other men. They'd been trying to get the king to limit his virgin rights to only the girls, but Remington had just about laughed in their faces, saying, "You wish me to include only one set of citizens in my attentions? What's the point in that? All my subjects are important to me and I think it would be dreadful of me to include some but not others. How is that fair?"
Kurt sort of agreed with him, even if a change of policy would have spared him from that night. Of course, one only got to be part of the harem and reap all its rewards after visiting the king's bed that first time. If boys were excluded, they would protest the loss of opportunity. Besides, the king's policy made Kurt feel like less of a minority for only being attracted to other boys, tolerated and somewhat understood, if not completely accepted. It made him wonder, though, if most boys felt even more uncomfortable because they were only attracted to girls. What if Kurt had been called to Queen Sue's bed instead of the king's? He shuddered at the thought.
Kurt wandered around the king's chamber, looking at this and that, but trying not to touch anything. In his youth, Remington had obviously traveled quite a bit, since his chamber was decorated with many objects from far off lands. Kurt wondered if working with Lady Gaga would allow him to travel as well. It looked exciting.
Kurt had been admiring some sort of jade statue when the chamber doors opened and two guards escorted Remington into the room, quickly checking for danger, but finding only Kurt.
"Hello, my dear," the king greeted Kurt, grasping his shoulders gently and placing a kiss on each cheek. "How goes the life of Kurt Hummel?"
Kurt watched both guards retreat to outside the chamber before replying, "Well, thank you, sire. And yourself?"
Remington sighed and moved to a sideboard, pouring himself a splash of liquor and downing it in one gulp. "These diplomatic talks are driving me up the wall and Her Majesty the Queen isn't helping things one bit. Now, I value Sue's opinion," he insisted, moving toward his wardrobe and shucking his heavy robe of state to reveal more ordinary clothes underneath, "don't get me wrong. She just doesn't have a diplomatic bone in her body. She's much better at military strategy, actually, and that combined with the fact that she's never given me an heir makes me wonder if I've really married a man in disguise!" Remington laughed like his notion was absurd and Kurt joined him nervously in laughing, letting the king guide him down onto the settee at the foot of the bed so they were sitting side-by-side.
"Now," the king said, putting an arm around Kurt's shoulders that was more comforting than Kurt had expected it to be, "I'm sorry it's taken me so long to schedule some time with you, Kurt, but Noah thought you might need a while to adjust."
"Really?" Kurt asked, never having thought about Puck talking to the king on his behalf. Did he speak up about all the new kids, or just Kurt?
"Mm-hmm," Remington replied. "I'd like to know more about you, Kurt. Tell me, how are your studies progressing?"
"Well," Kurt insisted, smiling a little at Miss Holliday's last stunt. "This afternoon my teacher dressed up as King David the third and we learned all about how quirky he was."
"Ah, yes," the king chuckled, "David the third was particularly interesting, wasn't he? Tell me, are you making friends?"
"Yes," Kurt replied, searching Remington's face for any sign that he was just making small talk to be polite. Instead, he seemed genuinely interested in what Kurt had to say. "Mercedes and I have very similar areas of study, so we've grown close fairly quickly. And of course Pu-Noah and Blaine have taken me under their wings, so to speak."
"I'm glad," Remington nodded. "It seems as if those of my companions who make friends quickly tend to stay with me longer, and there are several I would like to hold onto forever if I could."
"Like Noah?" Kurt asked, wondering if he was being too bold.
Remington chuckled and hugged Kurt closer, saying, "Yes. Exactly like Noah. Quinn, too."
Kurt remembered what Finn had said about Quinn wanting to be queen, but he didn't feel right mentioning it and then the king was talking again.
"I wonder if I might ask a favor of you, Kurt, my dear?" he began, standing up and unbuttoning his shirt.
"What is it, sire?" Kurt asked, not sure where he was supposed to move, so he stayed seated, trying not to get too nervous, despite the rapid beating of his heart.
"As I said, these talks are taking the life out of me. I wonder if you would be so kind as to ease my back muscles with a massage before going back to your quarters."
A massage? That was it? Kurt could do that. "Of course," he agreed, standing up and following Remington around to the side of the bed. "I don't have any experience, but..."
"Oh, just anything at this point would be lovely," the king replied, throwing his shirt and then his undershirt over the back of a chair before laying down on top of the covers. "You'll find some oil on the vanity, if you would?"
Kurt went over to the mirrored table and found the proper bottle, taking it back over to the king. "Sire?" he asked nervously. "How do I...?"
"Just kick off your shoes and climb up here," Remington replied, turning his face to give Kurt an encouraging smile. "You can sit on my lower back and behind as you work the muscles. Just knead like you would with bread."
"I can do that," Kurt agreed, following the king's instructions and trying not to be too hesitant as he place his hands on the man's skin. After a few gentle rubs to get the oil spread around, Kurt pressed a little harder on either side of the king's spine, smiling when he groaned in pleasure.
"That's it, darling," Remington sighed. "That's perfect."
The massage continued on for a while, Kurt actually sort of enjoying the power he had over making the king feel good. And then, Remington started snoring. Kurt wasn't sure what he was supposed to do, so he stopped and gently climbed away. The king didn't wake up, so Kurt wiped his hands on a cloth hanging next to the vanity, put his shoes back on, and slipped out of the room.
The guard Azimio was waiting for him in the sitting room, standing at attention next to the door that went out into the hallway. Approaching the man, Kurt said, "I don't know if I'm... I mean, he fell asleep."
"Yeah, come with me, pretty boy," Azimio nodded, leading Kurt out of the king's chambers and back toward the South Wing. Things were quieter than they had been earlier and Azimio gruffed, "If you ain't naked by the time the old man falls asleep, generally he doesn't want you to stay the night. Hell, he barely ever wants you to stay the night, got it?"
"Yeah," Kurt replied, swallowing nervously at the thought of being naked with the king. The talk they'd had and then the massage was actually a lot less than Kurt was expecting from the king and it made him like the monarch that much more.
Azimio escorted Kurt as far as the doors into the South Wing, joining the guards there, presumably to see out the rest of his shift. Kurt made his way through the darkened hallway toward the staircase, wondering if he would fall in love with the king someday like Noah had, when a noise stopped him. There, again. It sounded like someone crying.
Concerned, Kurt followed the sound into the gym and back into one corner near the padded floor the boys used for wrestling and fencing. There, huddled up in the corner was a figure Kurt could just barely make out. The curly hair said it was Blaine and as Kurt's eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see that the boy's pants were missing. He was huddled in on himself, wrapping his jacket around his drawn-in legs like it would help anything.
He'd been hurt. Badly.
Keeping his voice soft and as calm as he could manage, Kurt said, "Blaine? Hey, it's me."
The boy started and looked up at him wide-eyed, like a frightened animal. It broke Kurt's heart.
"Oh, honey," he cooed, moving in closer slowly, so Blaine knew he was trying to help. "What happened to you?"
"Nothing," Blaine replied, his voice cracking with the lie. "I'm fine, Kurt. I'll be fine. I-"
"You're not fine," Kurt insisted, wincing when he saw the puddle of blood beneath Blaine. "C'mon. Let's get you cleaned up in the kitchen, okay? No one upstairs has to see."
Blaine thought about Kurt's offer for a moment before nodding and reaching a hand out to Kurt. Helping the boy up was a challenge because he hissed in pain and was almost dead weight in Kurt's arms. Slowly they hobbled across the hall to the kitchen and Kurt helped Blaine lay out on the mat in front of the fireplace, where it was warm and he didn't have to sit up. Kurt had been fortunate so far in that he hadn't felt more than a little discomfort after sleeping with Puck, but he could imagine the pain of not doing it right without much trouble.
It was obvious that Blaine had been raped and the only question on Kurt's mind was who could do such a thing to such a lovely person. Biting his tongue to hold his questions, Kurt wetted a cloth with warm water and set about cleaning Blaine up. "Shh," he soothed, helping Blaine out of his bloodstained jacket and shirt, wincing at the bruises around Blaine's waist and at his entrance. "Shh, sweetheart. I'm sorry, but this might sting a little," Kurt winced as he ran the cloth between Blaine's butt cheeks, the cloth coming back stained pink and Blaine crying again.
When Blaine was relatively clean, Kurt found the laundry at the edge of the kitchen where the staff had been working on it. Kurt grabbed a night shirt he knew was Blaine's and a large blanket, helping Blaine into the first and wrapping him up in the second. He made Blaine a cup of tea and then sat next to him on the floor, gently but insistently asking, "Who did this to you?"
Clearing his throat, Blaine looked away and muttered, "He was never this rough before."
"Who was?" Kurt asked, trying not to get frustrated with Blaine's lack of answers. "Noah?"
Wide-eyed with surprise, Blaine shook his head vigorously. Not Puck, then.
"One of the others? Sam?"
"No!" Blaine insisted and Kurt felt a little better. Having no doors was one thing, but having no doors and sharing that space with a rapist was something else entirely.
"Then..." Kurt was running out of options. "Remington?" Blaine shook his head. "Will?" Another shake. "One of the guards?"
Blaine went very still, which was answer enough.
"One of the guards did this to you?" Kurt hissed, suddenly very angry on his friend's behalf. The guards were supposed to be there to protect the harem, not terrorize its members! "Which one? We'll tell Will and he'll put everything right!"
"No!" Blaine cried, his outburst so loud in the dark kitchen it sounded almost like a yell. Lowering his voice, Blaine added, "It doesn't matter that he forced me, that he's been forcing me. If anyone finds out he touched me, we're all out on the street, Kurt. Please don't ruin it for our friends. For Noah."
"But this is going to kill you," Kurt pointed out, brushing a lock of hair back from Blaine's forehead.
"If it helps Noah and Rachel and Mercedes, I don't care. They deserve everything. I'm only good for this."
"Don't say that!" Kurt cried, pulling Blaine close and hugging him tightly, feeling his heart break for his friend. "You're so talented, Blaine. You don't deserve this!"
"It's never going to end," Blaine muttered. "I mean, if it's not me it's going to be someone else. After Artie..."
"Artie?" Kurt asked, all he could remember about the guy was Puck saying he'd been badly injured and had to leave. "It was Artie before you?"
Blaine nodded sadly, clutching onto Kurt tighter.
"This is wrong," Kurt muttered. "This is so wrong. We have to tell someone. Puck! We can tell Puck. He'll think of something."
"Like he doesn't already know..." Blaine muttered and Kurt felt dumbstruck.
"No way," he hissed. "There's no way Puck would let this happen to you, Blaine. You're his boy, his best friend. He's so worried about you and I swear, he doesn't know."
"You're dreaming," Blaine sighed, pulling closer in on himself. "Puck knows everything that goes on in here."
Kurt shook his head, still not believing it. Why would Puck throw Blaine, his closest friend and partner, to the wolves like this? There was no way he could know. Well, he knew something was going on with Blaine, but he didn't know it was rape, did he?
Kurt looked around then and decided, "We can't stay on the floor all night. Come on, you can sleep with me tonight. Puck doesn't have to see you like this."
"Thank you," Blaine nodded, letting Kurt help him up and hobbling along next to him toward the staircase. Climbing the steps was quite the challenge, Blaine hissing at every step, but eventually they made it back to Kurt's bed. Kurt tucked his friend in before getting changed, sighing as he turned out his lamp and crawled in beside him, hating the way Blaine shivered at his gentle touch.
And Kurt thought it had been shaping up to be a nice evening.
**88**
Just like his first night, Kurt had a difficult time falling asleep, all the things he'd learned swimming around in his head, unrelenting. Blaine was living through hell and no one else knew. He was sacrificing himself not just for his own future, like Kurt's agreement to join the king's harem, but for everyone's future.
It was too much for one young man to handle, even one as good and as strong as Blaine. He had to be strong, to keep all this to himself for so long, didn't he? To be able to live with it in the first place?
Kurt swore he'd only been asleep for a few minutes when his curtain was whipped back, startling him awake again.
"There you are," Puck growled angrily, surging forward and grabbing Blaine's arm like he was going to drag the boy away by force. "I've been looking everywhere for you!"
Hating the terrified look in Blaine's eye, like he was sure Puck was going to kill him, Kurt scrambled over Blaine to get between him and Puck. "Stop it!" he cried, grabbing Puck's wrist and squeezing hard to get his attention. "Can't you see you're hurting him?"
Puck looked down at his hand on Blaine's arm and then over at the boy's face before letting his mouth drop in surprise and releasing his grip.
"Shit," he hissed, pulling away and curling both hands in the strip of hair on top of his head. "I'm fucking turning into him, aren't I?"
"Who?" Kurt asked, standing up and holding out his hands to keep Puck from doing something stupid to Blaine again.
"My fucking father," Puck muttered, kneeling down next to the bed so he had to look up at Blaine. "I'm sorry, dude. I just... I was so worried about you. I mean, I woke up and you weren't there."
Blaine nodded and Kurt could see him pulling together and forcing a smile onto his face. "I'm sorry, Noah. Kurt and I just got so caught up talking about theater after I was done working that I must have fallen asleep here. I didn't mean to scare you."
"Sure," Puck nodded, patting Blaine's hand and frowning when he shied away. This was not good.
Blaine smiled in apology and got out of bed, hiding his pain really well as he walked past, heading back where he belonged. Blaine kept looking back and meeting Kurt's eyes like he was begging for Kurt to keep quiet. However, Kurt knew he couldn't hold onto this secret for long.
To that end, Kurt put a hand on Puck's arm and leaned close, whispering in his ear, "Come talk to me later, without him. Okay?"
Puck gave Kurt a confused look and then nodded, catching up with Blaine and taking his hand gently, as if to apologize for losing his temper. Kurt felt sick.
I've only got a half of a chapter written after this! Yikes! Hopefully I will be able to finish it before next week. All your suggestions last week were very helpful, and please let me know if there's anything more you'd like me to expand upon or any scenes in particular that you would like to see. Thanks again for reading and for all the great feedback!