The Merits of Trust | By : chocoholic Category: +S through Z > Tales of Symphonia Views: 2875 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Tales of Symphonia, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
The Merits of Trust
Disclaimer: I do
not own Tales of Symphonia.
Feeling was the first of Zelos’s senses to come back to him,
possibly because the pain overrode all else. If he concentrated, he could
pinpoint specific hurts – his back, his shoulders, his wrists – but in truth, his body felt like one big open sore. Even
his hair hurt. Not the face, though, please not the face… And his memories of the
source of this discomfort, of the night before, were indistinct and fuzzy.
There’d been a party in Meltokio, a girl with dark hair, a drink…oh…it was hard
to remember what came next in that sequence of events. What had happened to
him?
Zelos tried to stretch his arms, hoping to force blood to
the aching muscles – only they were already suspended above his head and would
not move. Instead, the bonds restricting his wrists bit into the tender skin.
“What the hell?” he groaned, more out of annoyance than any real fear at that
point. Honestly, the girls he brought home sometimes…but Sebastian was almost
always around to help, and he never asked questions. The manservant seemed to
be remiss of his duties today, which was unfortunate. At least it didn’t seem
that his lower body was restricted any…Zelos wiggled a little, hoping that
movement would be enough to escape this trap.
“Yuan, stop him before he hurts himself,” someone said in a
calm, eerily familiar voice.
That voice sent a shiver down Zelos’s spine, a feeling that
settled uneasily in his stomach. His futile blind struggle to escape increased
in earnest as he embraced the panic that surged through him, till hands more
powerful than any human’s descended over his body to effectively pin him
against the bed – the floor? Trapped, his heart fluttering wildly in his chest,
Zelos opened a swollen eye to confirm his fears…
…and looked up at Lord Yggdrasill.
The leader of Cruxis sat high above him on an exquisitely
wrought golden throne, an odd position for an angel who rarely gave those he
considered beneath him the impression he was tethered to the earth at all. His
expression was that of a man perpetually bored – as if he had seen all the
wonders the world had seen fit to show him and remained unimpressed. To be
fair, Zelos figured anyone who’d lived four thousand years for the sole purpose
of resurrecting their sister would have perfected that expression. Despite
that, it was hard to deny the fact that Yggdrasill was charismatic in his
madness and even strangely beautiful, with delicate features and bluish-pink
wings that lent an ethereal glow to his pallid skin.
Zelos was less impressed by the sight of the other two.
Holding him down and looking as though this was the last place he wanted to be
at the moment was Renegade leader Lord Yuan, blue-haired and blue-eyed and
slender as a sword. He didn’t know the man very well and had no real desire to,
because at the moment his side seemed to be losing. But he’s not losing quite as
badly as I am right now, is he? Oh, well…
Zelos turned his eyes elsewhere so he wouldn’t have to look
at the man holding him down anymore and was instantly sorry. Just the sight of
stoic supercilious Kratos Aurion, standing to the right of Lord Yggdrasill’s
magnificent throne, was enough to tie his stomach in knots. Hypocritical as the
thought was, the knowledge that someone – that Kratos – would willingly, and
without alternative, align himself with an organization that was responsible
for the current sorry state of the worlds and the lives of the people that
inhabited them made Zelos feel angry and sick, both at once.
As ever, the man’s sense of superiority, apparently unmarred
by guilt, made him even sicker. How Kratos could dare approach Lloyd, as he had
several times now, knowing all he had done and would yet do to betray him was
something Zelos never understood, no matter how many hours on Derris-Kharlan he
spent in his company; after all, his own reasons for doing the same were hard
to know. Just now Kratos was studying Zelos with the same expression of faint
distaste he always wore when around the Chosen,
a fact that angered him even in his currently helpless state.
Tearing his eyes away from the swordsman, Zelos tried to
commit the rest of his surroundings to memory. I’ve been here before, he realized past his panic. This was the
same surprisingly cozy audience chamber deep within Vinheim Yggdrasill had used
during Zelos’s previous visits to Derris-Kharlan, but this current situation
was far removed from the usual clandestine meetings where he whispered a few
secrets in the half-elf’s ear. It didn’t take much guesswork to realize that he
was lashed to the floor, probably by some device he wouldn’t recognize despite his
academic brilliance. And he was well and truly fucked.
Ever since he’d started playing all the sides, Zelos had put
out of his head the thought that he might get caught – after all, pessimism was
sure to doom him to failure. Nevertheless, the thought of being caught by
Yggdrasill had crossed his mind once or twice, no more than halfheartedly at
best. Now, though…his worst nightmare had come true, and to Zelos’s eyes tensions
were burning hot and heavy. The only thing that could possibly make the
situation worse would be if Lloyd’s group suddenly showed up. Raine especially
had quite a temper.
“C…” Zelos began sluggishly, breaking the strained silence.
How embarrassing; his voice sounded so breathy and weak. He cleared his throat
and tried again, fixing his attention solidly on Yuan. “Can you get your hands
off of me?”
Some unfathomable emotion narrowed Yggdrasill’s lovely green
eyes before finally he spoke. His voice was a low tenor, and so soft Zelos had
to strain to hear it. “Let go of him, Yuan.”
With barely a pause, Yuan did as Yggdrasill commanded him,
rising and moving away from Zelos without so much as acknowledging his presence.
You’d think I hadn’t been sharing secrets
with him just two days ago, Zelos thought dully, no more comfortable now
than he had been with Yuan pinning him down. Ungrateful fucker.
Shifting to try to relieve some of the tension in his
shoulders, Zelos lifted his head and looked down at himself. His elaborate
clothing was still intact – thank Martel he remained unmolested in that respect
– but there was an ugly bloodstain near the bottom edge of his vest, and his
sword arm felt bruised. Must’ve fought
back, he realized ruefully, wondering how long he’d been out and how long
the three angels had been watching him. Zelos let the idea gain weight in his
mind, a simmering outrage overtaking his panic. “Look,” he said, trying to
maintain as much dignity as possible, “I don’t know what’s going on, but…why am
I here?”
“Chosen, your presence was necessary,” Yggdrasill said in no
more than a whisper, as if this situation was the most natural thing in the
world. “Rest assured that I had several of my Desians collect you in the most
discreet way possible. You must excuse us for our rough treatment of you, but
there are several questions we require you to answer.”
Questions? Zelos’s
own mind whirled with a hundred questions, a thousand. Why couldn’t he voice a
single one?
He hated the way Kratos and Yuan were looking at him, as if
they were privy to secrets he could never hope to know. “W…what sort of
questions, my lord?” he choked out, already knowing he’d regret the answer.
“Trust questions,” Yuan said, smirking.
Yggdrasill turned his head to give Yuan a cold look. “When I
require you to answer for me I shall tell you to do so.” His eyes, unyielding
as green glass, slid back to Zelos. “Does your loyalty to Cruxis remain
steadfast, Chosen?”
“Sure it does.” Yeah,
I’m loyal to you and about a dozen others.
“You have not betrayed me to my enemies, then?”
“No…I wouldn’t do that, Lord Yggdrasill. I swore my sword to
you, remember?” Zelos said as evenly as he could, wondering if that would be
enough to convince Yggdrasill to remove the cumbersome wrist restraints. With
the reason behind his captivity seemingly explained, Zelos found himself
longing for an all too familiar resolution. It was Yggdrasill’s way to have his
men renew their oaths of loyalty to him, sometimes twice or more. He was a
surprisingly needy person. Of course, Zelos wasn’t fool enough to discount the
fact that there was nothing Yggdrasill liked half so well as lulling those
who’d displeased them into a false sense of security, be it for a heartbeat or
a lifetime, and he did it so expertly…
It was then that Yggdrasill confirmed all of his fears. “…How
strange. Your words are at odds with what I have been told. It has been said
you have betrayed Cruxis, Chosen. Do you know
how I deal with traitors?”
Those words were like a curse, like some evil spell that
deprived Zelos of speech and thought and movement. And the looks the three of
them were giving him…you’d think Yuan was faithful to Lord Yggdrasill’s noble
ideals himself, from the way he was scrutinizing him. “I never,” Zelos finally managed. He’d never wanted Yggdrasill to
suspect that, never never never.
“Those are hardly words to sway me. You have been seen in
contact with the Renegade leader, it seems, and I’m of no mind to hear you
clumsily dispute that claim.” Yggdrasill’s eyes never left his face. “Kratos,
tell the Chosen what I do with traitors.”
Kratos finally deigned to focus all his attention on his
lord’s captive, giving Zelos a look he knew all too well. Who do you think you are? that look seemed to say. You have no place among us. Why are you here?
“Lord Yggdrasill rewards traitors with death,” he said flatly, voicing a fact
they both knew and awakening Zelos’s ire.
Zelos struggled to keep his sudden anger in check, knowing
there was nothing he could do bound as he was. Even still, the thoughts of how
he might wipe that smug smile off the seraph’s face remained vivid. You’d love to see me dead, wouldn’t you,
bastard? he thought, trying to match Kratos’s contemptuous look with his
own. You and your friend in that goofy
jumpsuit, you’d love to tie me up and peel me like an orange, huh? Damned if
I’ll let it come to that…
The sound of Yggdrasill’s voice roused him from his angry,
desperate thoughts. “What do you suggest I do with the Chosen,
then?”
“Kill him,” Kratos said without hesitation, just as Zelos
knew he would. “Let him serve as a lesson to all other would-be traitors who
pose as your friends even now.”
“It is true that all these would-be traitors would profit
from a sharp lesson. Pick a man from their ranks and punish him in my name.”
Yggdrasill’s wings fluttered restlessly with either agitation or anticipation. “But
there is no reason to dispose of the Chosen.
He may prove useful yet.”
“Can you trust him?” Kratos challenged. “He has shown a most
eager willingness to betray Sylvarant’s Chosen. What guarantee is there that he
won’t betray you next, if he hasn’t already, as you claim?”
“None. That is ever a risk,” Yggdrasill conceded, methodical
and precise. “However, risks must be taken in this time of need.”
This time of need, huh?
Zelos had a few things to say about that,
but he wasn’t stupid enough to voice his thoughts where Yggdrasill could hear,
and Kratos, and Yuan whom he barely knew. Yggdrasill didn’t seem to want him
dead, and Zelos was unwilling to give the seraph an excuse to change his mind
on that issue.
Kratos never bothered responded to Yggdrasill’s words, or
else he did and Zelos failed to notice in the midst of his thoughts; after all,
the conversations of the Three Seraphim were never hurried, nor were they easy
to decipher.
“…Never mind about that. I should have known better than to
ask you, Kratos. You save all your bloodthirstiness for the wrong moments.”
Yggdrasill shifted on his throne and grimaced, though his eyes remained sharp. “What
do you think, Yuan?”
Yuan snapped to attention, his expression blank, but behind
the mask Zelos sensed contempt. I should
know, I’ve felt it often enough. “Do as you will, my lord,” he said carefully.
Four thousand years must have jaded the three men on the
value of life, but it upset Zelos to hear his life spoken of so cheaply. It
would not do to have his life thrown away over some careless meeting with Yuan
that the Renegade had probably informed his lord of himself. The problem arose
in convincing Yggdrasill of that.
“You are as diplomatic as ever,” Yggdrasill said, his
disgust evident in his tone. He was quiet for a while, obviously weighing
Zelos’s life in his hands, and Zelos found himself hoping against hope that he
wouldn’t die here. Finally he looked down at Zelos again, a small mean smile
curling his pale lips. “I will give him a chance to prove his loyalty to me…but
it seems to me that the Chosen also requires a lesson on the merits of trust.
Yuan, Kratos, I entrust the task of instruction to you.”
“Never,” Kratos
shot back, his voice thick with loathing, but Yuan just gave Yggdrasill a long
guarded look. Zelos was too shocked to speak, even unable to savor the small
victory. He’d spent a fair amount of time on Derris-Kharlan, and he’d heard the
whispers about Yggdrasill’s perversions, the method with which he made
suspected traitors prove the veracity of their oaths to him the most prominent
tale of all. But while he knew more about the three companions than most, he
didn’t know nearly enough to justify the trust – or sheer abuse of power – that
would prompt Yggdrasill to make such a request here, now. Not that Zelos had
ever had any close friends to speak of, but if he did, he could never imagine commanding them to fuck one of his
suspected enemies while he looked on.
But even that attempt at levity in his mind could not put
Zelos at ease. His throat was dry and he was very frightened. Yggdrasill looked
determined to see his “request” fulfilled and Yuan, at least – could it be? –
was willing to oblige him.
“You will if you hope to have any say in what happens the
next time,” Yggdrasill told Kratos coldly; his voice was as sharp as the razor
edge of any sword, every word a stroke.
“What makes you think there will be a next time?” Kratos was
giving Yggdrasill a look that he normally reserved for Zelos. “I am not…I am not your dog to call to heel,
not in this. Give me some other duty to shoulder, but please do not ask me to
do this thing.”
Quicker than Zelos’s eyes could follow, Yggdrasill reached
out and cupped Kratos’s cheek, digging his fingers into the flesh as he met his
friend’s defiant gaze. “Kratos, my dear companion…” For one terrible moment
Zelos thought they might kiss, but instead Yggdrasill gave his “dear companion”
a hard shove, sending him stumbling backward. “You will do as I command, else your son may be getting a visit from me
much sooner than he would like. Are you hearing me?”
Zelos saw the defiance die in Kratos’s eyes, saw the red
marks on his cheek where Yggdrasill had touched him. “Very well,” he said
stiffly. “I will do as you say.”
Yggdrasill smiled, creating an odd marriage between the
youthful exuberance of the hero he’d once been and the cold calculation he
possessed now. “I knew you’d see reason. Yuan, I trust you have no objections?”
“My body is yours,” Yuan said smoothly.
Yuan hadn’t protested at all, and Kratos had been swayed so
quickly that he couldn’t help but think that this was part of some larger, more
elaborate game -- or else there were a lot more trappings between the three
companions than he ever wanted to know. Starting to think he’d prefer death,
Zelos tried a quip, if only to lessen the inherent wrongness of this situation.
“Um, Lord Yggdrasill, I’m not the sort of guy who likes an audience…”
Much to Zelos’s surprise, Yggdrasill laughed aloud at that.
Though there was no amusement in the angel’s eyes when he floated down from his
throne and came to kneel beside his captive, for a moment Zelos dared to hope.
Then Yggdrasill’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, Zelos, that was an unfortunate thing to
say.” He struck him so hard the Chosen saw
stars. “This isn’t about what you want,” he heard Yggdrasill say past the
ringing in his ears, “this is about what you need.”
What I need… Zelos
was certain he didn’t need this any more than he wanted it, but what good would
it be to tell Yggdrasill that now? There was no chance for clemency, no other
option except to bend himself to the Lord of Cruxis’s will. It wouldn’t be as
hard as some of the other tasks Yggdrasill might have put to him…
“That’s enough, Yggdrasill,” Yuan said as Zelos’s world slid
back into focus.
A frightening expression Zelos had rarely seen transformed
Yggdrasill’s face, and the angel turned his head to fix his glare on Yuan. “Silence.
I will hear no rebukes from you. You
made my sweet sister your whore, why should this human’s body be held any more
sacred?”
Yuan flinched as if Yggdrasill had slapped him. “As you
will, then,” he mumbled. Even with his vision still swimming, Zelos could see
him grinding his teeth.
“As I will,” Yggdrasill said, almost visibly tasting the
words as if he hadn’t heard them a thousand times before. “That’s right. As I
recall, you have your duty to attend to, do you not? Kratos as well.”
“We do.” Yuan reached up to unfasten his thick cloak,
letting it fall and pool around his feet as he looked Zelos’s way. The
intensity of his gaze was enough to make Zelos shiver.
His skin still tingling, Zelos closed his eyes and tried
vainly to relax his muscles, dreading what would come next. Which one would
approach him first? Certainly not Kratos, he reasoned. Yggdrasill held Lady
Pronyma’s dark magic in contempt, he knew, but would he want his two friends to
employ her tactics? The waiting was agonizing, going on and on until it was
more than Zelos could bear. Acutely aware of how fast his heart was beating, he
finally opened his eyes…
Kratos and Yuan were kissing. Zelos stared at the unexpected
sight, wide-eyed and, strangely, more apprehensive than ever. Yuan had one hand
settled on Kratos’s hip, the other cupping his abused cheek, his own cheeks
flushed as he teased his friend’s small petulant mouth. All of Kratos’s
sternness seemed to melt from his face as he indulged in the joint pleasure,
leaving him looking younger than he was. Does
he always look like that when he’s kissed? Zelos wondered, his thinking
fragmented. He caught a glimpse of Yuan sliding his slick tongue into Kratos’s
mouth and felt his cock twitch in empathetic pleasure. The realization
disgusted him. The thought excited him.
When Yuan’s hands strayed to the laces of Kratos’s pants,
Yggdrasill stopped them. “Yuan, that is enough. You have someone else to attend
to, as I recall.”
Zelos didn’t keep his eyes open long enough to see how Yuan
would respond. It’ll be easier if I can’t
see them, he knew, only that made it no easier when the moment finally
came. Gauntleted hands descended over his body, undoing his vest and pulling
the material aside. Another pair of hands, gentler somehow, pulled off his
shoes and eased off his pants, exposing his half-hard cock. The shame he
thought he’d feel at this point had transformed itself to shameful arousal.
Moments passed and then he felt hands against him once more,
felt a smooth hard body pressed against his. They’re naked, he thought, strangely excited by the thought,
wishing he was free, that he could touch… Zelos was in agony with his hands
bound.
He felt someone’s lips brush against his forehead and heard
them laugh unpleasantly. Kratos, he
thought, the man’s name accompanied by both the annoyance he’d always
associated with him and some new feeling, some want. He felt Kratos’s mouth
against his cheek and twisted his head, blindly searching, but Kratos seemed to
make it a point not to meet his lips.
Soon enough he moved down Zelos’s body, his breath hot
against his chest, and Zelos couldn’t resist the temptation to open his eyes.
They were both as naked as he’d imagined, Yuan lying on his back between
Kratos’s legs, his mouth busy, and Kratos bent over Zelos’s body. Kratos’s head
was bent, almost reverently, as he began dragging a fingernail back and forth
over Zelos’s nipples, much to his approval. Kratos finally drew a nipple into
his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hard nub before biting down sharply
on the sensitive flesh. Zelos gasped. “Not so hard,” he mumbled, but Kratos
never heard, or else he didn’t care. He lapped at the nipple for a few moments
more, creating contrastingly pleasant and painful sensations, before lifting
his head. There was blood on his bottom lip, but he quickly wiped it off,
giving Zelos a dark look equal parts lust and disdain. “Pathetic.”
That must have been some signal, because Yuan lifted
himself, wiping his mouth before crawling over to Zelos. Ever so casually,
Kratos sat up, one hand resting on Zelos’s stomach and the other running
appreciatively over Yuan’s backside, two of his fingers glistening with
moisture as they disappeared from Zelos’s vision. His eyes soft and his brows
furrowing in pleasure, Yuan brushed some hair out of Zelos’s face, leaning down
to kiss the mouth that Kratos wouldn’t touch.
“No,” Zelos
thought he wanted to say, but Yuan’s mouth on his smothered his halfhearted
plea. He wanted to try again but Yuan slipped his tongue into his mouth,
choking off all the rest of his words and dissolving the last of his
resistance. It was more intense than he’d ever thought it would be. While Zelos
was content with sliding his tongue against Yuan’s, liking the feeling of it
pressed slickly against his, Yuan was more daring, sucking at Zelos’s as if it
were something much larger. Even past that, he felt Yuan’s hand trailing down
his chest, entwining with Kratos’s hand settled on his stomach.
Bereft of human need and base desire, Yggdrasill watched the
spectacle cold-eyed. “Yuan, touch him,” he commanded. As if he heard several
more words Yggdrasill had left unspoken and understood, Yuan broke the kiss and
settled his warm hand over Zelos’s cock, lightly stroking the heated flesh. His
fingertips were rough with calluses, yet somehow they seemed a pleasant
contrast as they rubbed sweet circles over his foreskin and along the velvety
head. Zelos couldn’t help but groan softly at the attention. “Yes, there.
Faster now, he likes that.”
Yuan did as Yggdrasill commanded, curling his fingers around
the shaft of Zelos’s cock and beginning a swift jacking motion that made him
groan again, louder this time, as he was worked to unwilling excitement. His
cock felt like the center of the world…and then Yuan’s hand dropped away,
leaving Zelos feeling unfulfilled and throbbing with need.
Not wasting any time, Kratos soon urged Zelos’s knees up to
his chest, spreading his legs far apart. Zelos thought Kratos might suck him
off then and grew warm at the thought, but instead it was Yuan settling his
head between his legs, his blue hair spilling into his face as Kratos knelt
behind him. He gave one cursory lick
to Zelos’s balls, making him gasp in surprise, and spread the cheeks of his
buttocks before his mouth was still for a while.
It was only when he felt Yuan’s tongue probing teasingly at
the sensitive, neglected flesh around his opening, licking slowly against the
ring of ribbed skin that Zelos’s lust-clouded mind realized just what the
half-elf was doing. His initial disgust at the thought faded with the onslaught
of sensation. He sighed as the feeling became more pleasurable, relaxing a
little, and Yuan seized the chance to press his tongue against his opening, inside him. Zelos had no reply to that,
except to moan. That tongue felt wholly different from a finger or a cock: it
was at once slick and velveteen, yielding yet possessing a deceptive strength.
Zelos reveled in the feeling, forgetting even to be mortified for enjoying it,
yet as soon as he’d become accustomed to it Yuan slid away. He moaned,
immediately hating the weak needy sound of it.
He didn’t remain unfulfilled for long. Positioning himself
between Zelos’s raised legs, hesitating only to shift himself for Kratos, Yuan
leaned down and pressed a kiss against Zelos’s jaw, saying nothing. After a
pause he felt the head of Yuan’s cock pressing against him, pushing into him, and
despite the slickness produced by Yuan’s mouth it still burned. Having done
this a grand total of twice, both times drunk, Zelos gasped sharply at the
feeling. “Just relax,” Yuan breathed against his neck, “just—yesss.” Zelos didn’t have to look to
know Kratos had just entered Yuan, no more than he had to look to feel himself
grow harder at the thought.
That first, beginning penetration was all the time Zelos had
to adjust before Kratos and Yuan started moving, overcome with sensation and intent
on their own pleasure. Their thrusts were awkward at first, abrupt and jerky,
but soon they found an easy rhythm, utilizing the reactions of Yuan’s body for
momentum. Whenever Yuan pulled his cock back, making sure the head was still
inside him, Zelos could feel Kratos
plunging into the blue-haired man. Amazingly, he even found himself responding
to the intricate arrangement, though he grimaced at every motion.
Yuan was breathing heavily against his neck, already
transformed by lust. Whenever he increased the pace of his thrusts and whenever
Kratos slid back into him particularly viciously, Yuan shuddered and cried out
in ways that both increased Zelos’s desire and repulsed him. “Did you moan for
Martel like that?” Yggdrasill asked Yuan one such time, so softly. “Did she
like it when you…” He trailed off, as if finishing that sentence was too
unnatural and dreadful a thing to even contemplate. Instead he went back to
silently watching, his hard green eyes narrowed.
Kratos was much quieter. With every jerk of his hips, his
dark bangs flopped attractively into his eyes, the only indication of what
effort he was giving and what pleasure he was feeling besides the fact that
every once and a while he would hold a breath and release it painfully slowly. Zelos
concentrated on the determined line of the man’s jaw and the way his muscles
worked as he thrust into Yuan instead of concentrating on who he was, and
somehow the pain of Yuan moving within him seemed less.
Yet uncomfortable still, and frustrated by the minimal
friction the closeness of Yuan’s body created against his cock, Zelos shifted
his hips in an attempt to increase his own pleasure. The somewhat new position
pressed Yuan’s cock directly against his prostate with each in-thrust, and it
felt so good that the pain was instantly forgotten. The feeling soon turned
into an all-consuming sexual stimulation that made him acutely aware of the
cock thrusting into him, Kratos’s repressed expression once again melting, and
above it all someone groaning, groaning, groaning. It was only a few moments
later that he realized it was him.
They were all groaning now, Zelos realized dimly, each one
urging the other two on as their pleasure grew more concentrated and their
movements more desperate. He was instinctively raising his hips to meet Yuan’s
thrusts, trying to hasten his impending orgasm as Yuan’s concentration flagged.
Kratos leaned over, kissing and biting at his old friend’s neck, whispering
hotly in his ear. Apparently completely absorbed in the sensations created by
Kratos’s thrusts, Yuan was reduced to doing no more than ineffectually grinding
his pelvis against Zelos’s body, but the redhead was too keyed up to even
notice or care. His cock throbbed in slow pulses that were in time with Yuan’s
movements against his prostate, each spasm more pleasurable than the last,
bringing him closer to his peak.
Finally embracing the tingling pleasure sweeping over his
body, Zelos came, rhythmically clenching as if to accept Yuan’s last relentless
thrusts. As his pleasure spiraled higher and higher he felt Yuan release
himself into him, saw Kratos’s face twist with a grimace as he, too, yielded to
what he was feeling. The feeling of them all orgasming, now, was too intensely
wonderful for Zelos to bear.
Then it was gone…the euphoria disappeared behind a heavy,
descending cloud of exhaustion. Trying to control his now-rapid breathing,
Zelos lay limp as Yuan virtually collapsed atop him, as Kratos closed his eyes
in what appeared to be relief. Contrary to all Yggdrasill’s wishes, each of
them had emerged from the task set to them unscathed and sated. It was
perversely wonderful, more enjoyable than such an act ever should have been.
Zelos let the giddiness of post-coital bliss overtake him, let his mind go
blank. The frustration he felt having his hands bound, the humiliation of being
used for Yggdrasill’s pleasure, and the dire realization that he might be
killed despite all this -- none of it mattered anymore, because Yggdrasill
didn’t matter anymore.
Even Kratos seemed mellower. Leaning down, he brushed Yuan’s
sweaty hair out of the way and whispered into his pointy ear, so softly that
Zelos could barely make out the words. Angelic
language, he realized quickly, feeling ill at ease…
Yuan cut Kratos short, and just like that the pleasant
afterglow was gone. “Get off of me,” he said, his voice hard and cold.
Yes, please, Zelos
thought, sickened and unsure of how much more of that he could take.
After a pause Kratos did as Yuan had asked him, wearily
lifting himself from his companion-now-lover’s body and sending a meaningful
glance Zelos’s way. The self-loathing present in the man’s eyes was almost
enough to make him gasp. Who knew there was more to Kratos Aurion than his
prowess with swords and his feigned indifference?
As Yuan rolled off him, Zelos heard him whisper, “Never
speak of this to me again.”
That was fine by him.
If Yggdrasill had been aroused by what had happened, there
were no visible signs of it, least of all in his eyes, which were even colder
and more disapproving than they’d been before the lesson had begun. “That was
quite pleasant. Yuan, you have certainly improved from the last time you did as
I bid you, wouldn’t you agree?”
Something cold bloomed in Yuan’s eyes, but whether it was a
sign of agreement or disgust or a twisted mixture of the two feelings Zelos
couldn’t tell from his angle. Without another word he dressed himself, swept
past Kratos and Yggdrasill, and never looked back, not even once.
An awkward silence fell. Absurdly, Zelos realized he was
half-hoping – half-dreading – he would hear Yuan’s words in Kratos’s mouth, but
they never came. Instead Kratos’s brown eyes flicked from his lord to the Chosen to his own sweaty body, as if he couldn’t decide
which of the three he hated more. He seemed to settle on himself, glaring down
at his limbs as he dressed as though they had committed some offense. “Are we
done?” he asked Yggdrasill when he was presentable.
“We are.” Yggdrasill waved a soft white hand at his old
friend in curt dismissal. “Go. I will send for you again when I have need of
you.”
Kratos went, leaving Zelos alone at last with the man who
had orchestrated all of this. Sudden dread drove all other thoughts from his
mind, draining his skin of any semblance of a sexual flush that might have been
there. Not now, he thought
desperately, watching Yggdrasill watch him, I
almost managed to forget about you…I…not now.
He thought Yggdrasill might kill him where he lay, but he
never did. Instead he descended from his throne and knelt beside him, his eyes
scanning Zelos’s sweaty, abused body without the least hint of warmth. But he was warm, almost deceptively so.
“Well, you certainly look pathetic. I think I am assured of your loyalty now,
in any case.” Reaching up, he fiddled with a few things Zelos couldn’t see and
the restraints fell away from his wrists, pathetic paltry things now.
He’d been tied down in that position for so long that to be
freed from it was odd itself, yet Zelos lowered his arms all the same,
grimacing in pain as blood flowed back into the limbs. I’m free, he thought. But if that was so, why didn’t he feel like
it?
“Your…friends
really know what they’re doing,” he said when Yggdrasill didn’t drift away. “Do
you have them fuck every guy you think is screwing you over, or am I a special
case?” Zelos could feel himself growing angry all over again. “Which one told
you I met with the Renegades? Was it Yuan?”
“They serve me well enough. You shouldn’t look so upset. Not
every man gets to prove his loyalty to me in such an amusing way.” There was no
mirth in Yggdrasill’s eyes, though, and it seemed he’d completely ignored
Zelos’s last question before he said, “Did you meet with the Renegade leader?”
The question stunned Zelos silent for a moment. After all he
had subjected him to, apparently convinced he was a traitor, Yggdrasill thought
to ask him that now? “…What? Haven’t you already decided on the
answer?”
“I want to hear your
answer.”
“What if I did?”
“You will not do so again.” Yggdrasill smiled, serene in his
confidence. “You have learned the consequences of deviance from my ideals, I am
certain.”
“I’ve learned.” Yeah,
I’ve learned a lot more about you than I ever thought I would. He tried to
squirm away from Yggdrasill, but even free he still felt restrained, too
drained from release to attempt escape in earnest. “What…what do you want me to
do now?”
“My orders for you remain the same as they have always been.
Bide your time, watch, wait. Tell me of Lloyd’s movements, and when the time is
ripe, ascend to Derris-Kharlan with the girl. Only then will I be convinced of
your loyalty to Cruxis.”
“I can’t believe that,” Zelos blurted before he could stop
himself. “Wait, that’s not what I meant. It’s just – I already proved my
loyalty to you, didn’t I? Your friends left happy, right? I just want…” Zelos
knew it was insanity to keep speaking, knew he was doomed to death if he didn’t
shut his mouth, but the feeling of Yggdrasill so close to him drove him to
madness. “…I just want you to give me some guarantee of safety. Seles, my
sister, she was born to be the Chosen, and
so…”
“Hmm…” Supporting himself on an elbow, Yggdrasill brought
his face close to Zelos’s, his fine blonde hair brushing against his chest.
“Perhaps I shouldn’t give the burden of the Chosen
to your sister after all. Perhaps I should use your body to house my sister’s
soul till I am certain of the readiness of the girl Colette. Would you like
that?”
“Maybe.” Zelos was still feeling reckless. “That’ll kill me,
right? That’s freedom.” Sort
of.
Yggdrasill’s mouth hovered tantalizingly close to his and
after all that had happened Zelos wasn’t sure whether he was aroused or
repulsed. “You are so terribly foolish. It would be almost worth it to -- but
no. Do you honestly think I would sully my sister’s soul by placing her in your
worthless body?” His hand drifted down Zelos’s chest, teasingly pinching one of
his abused nipples and gliding briefly over the sticky come drying on his
stomach before he pulled it away. Then, without the least thought or care given
to the supposed impropriety of the act, Yggdrasill slid a finger into his
mouth, tasting him. The angel’s dainty nose wrinkled. “You have soiled
yourself. Remove yourself from Vinheim at once…and speak no more to me about
what you deserve. I hope this interlude
taught a lesson to you. You need to understand that without trust, your
promises are as nothing to me. You shall receive your reward after you have done as I bid you, Chosen, not before.”
And then the moment was gone; Yggdrasill smiled coldly and
lifted himself, drifting away to tend to his army of soulless angels or pine
after his dead sister or fuck Kratos and Yuan for all he knew. Get up, Zelos told himself as the room
grew cold around him, trying to force his unwilling muscles into action, get up before that bastard comes back and
makes you… Yet long after he should have done as Yggdrasill commanded him,
Zelos lay in the spot where this strange day had begun, listening to the memory
of the angel’s words mingled with the heavy sound of his breathing.
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