Chapter Text
He sat still as the servants washed his hair. As they twisted unruly curls into perfect spirals and rubbed oil into his skin until it was soft and pink. He let unfamiliar hands drape delicate golden chains over his chest and hips, long loops of metal meant to accentuate his narrow waist and muscular thighs. The only covering he was graced with was an almost sheer white tunic, but he didn’t bother trying to hide himself. He knew his duty. Even if he dreaded it.
Hinata Shouyou had once dreamt of becoming a knight, but now he would give almost anything just to go home. He was done with glory if this is where it landed him -half naked in the finest bedchamber of the castle’s guest wing.
Everywhere he looked the furniture was made of glossy wood, brocade fabrics, silver, gold, iron and glass. White Ivory combs sat casually on an antique dressing table beside a decanter of a bronze liquid that might be perfume and might be alcohol. This suite of rooms held more wealth than Hinata’s village would have seen in a year, and he knew for a fact this was the first time in eight months that any of its luxury had been put to use.
Hinata reclined on a thinly padded bench near the foot of the bed, arranging his limbs as attractively as he knew how, and tried not to seethe as he waited.
It was almost an hour before Hinata’s attention was brought back to the present by the sound of a door opening in the adjoining room and footsteps stomping across the overly plush carpets of the parlor. He had fallen into a daze of boredom and only had a moment to prepare himself before the bedroom door swung open with more force than any reasonable person would find necessary.
Hinata flinched, eyes flickering up instinctively to track the motion. He caught a glimpse of dark hair, pale skin, chainmail, and a face red with distemper.
He forced his gaze back to the floor and prayed he’d be mistaken for a statue.
“Servants are dismissed.” The man said with a low grunt, pulling off a pair of leather riding gloves and tossing them on to the dressing table next to the ivory combs.
“Your highness,” was that the right title to use? He had struggled through his etiquette training and been told to avoid talking if he could help it. “I’m not a servant, strictly speaking.”
“Well, if you’re an assassin, you’ve done a pathetic job.”
Hinata would have laughed if he wasn’t so paralyzed by fear. Still, his head whipped up in surprise, and the first thing he saw was the man’s eyes: cold, sharp, and blue. The sort of gaze that immediately reminded Hinata why he wasn’t allowed to look.
But he couldn’t look away.
“I am to be your personal consort during your time here, sire.” He tried to make his voice sound soft and appealing rather than confused and apprehensive. It wasn’t working very well. “It’s Aoba Johsai tradition that all our most esteemed visitors are given a gift of this form upon arrival.”
The prince sighed, as if this was all some great exhausting chore. As if HE had any right to be inconvenienced.
“Great. Well. You’re dismissed, for the remainder of my stay.”
“Sire?”
“I’ve been riding a horse for three days. All I want is a bath and some goddamn peace and quiet. Get out.”
Hinata knew he should offer to help the man bathe, should insist on helping him relax. But this was such a clear dismissal, such a good clean escape, that before he could stop himself he was on his feet. He barely remembered to bow before he was out of the suite and pushing into a hidden servant’s staircase to return to the belly of the castle, the weight of anxiety and fear he’d carried for weeks, months, lifted off his shoulders.
Never in his life had he thought rejection would feel so good.
~~~~~
Hinata’s relief was short-lived.
It was a day later and he once again found himself being pampered and prettied, the same golden jewelry laid across his skin, makeup artfully painted across his freckled cheeks.
He tilted his face in the mirror, impressed.
The heavy bruise across the left side of his face had been an angry red-purple just a few hours earlier but the salve and the makeup seemed to have helped a good deal. If he hadn’t known it was there, if he didn't still feel a twinge of pain with every heartbeat, he probably wouldn’t notice it at all.
The bruise had been part of Hinata’s punishment for “abandoning his duty to the crown” the night before. He had tried explaining that the prince sent him away, that he only left because he’d been asked to, but no one believed him. And clearly no one had bothered asking the visitor whether or not he had sent away his consort. Apparently, it was unthinkable that a man wouldn’t want one of Aoba Johsai’s gifts.
So Hinata’s Mistress had thrown him off his cot in the early hours of the morning and hit him so hard he saw stars.
It had taken every ounce of self control that he possessed not to remind her that she wasn’t supposed to leave any visible marks on the merchandise.
“Are you ready?” Yachi was holding one end of a silver chain in her arms, a new type of accessory, heavier and with a sinister cuff. Her face was soft with an apology that didn’t ease the weight in his chest.
Yachi had been his first friend in the castle, the head servant who looked after the consorts and helped them prepare when they were gifted or requested. They had rarely spoken, but still Hinata sensed a kinship. She had done what she could to make his life easier since his arrival. He wondered if he had disappointed her by requiring this extra precaution: chains, to keep him from running.
She clamped the shackle around his wrist, locking it closed with a key and then storing it in her apron pocket. The other end was already locked to the foot of the bed. The chain was long enough that he could go anywhere in the lavish sleeping chambers and no farther. Certainly, he couldn’t escape again (not that he had escaped to begin with.)
“I’ll explain the situation to him.” Yachi said softly, looking like she wanted to ease Hinata’s fear. “I know it was just a misunderstanding.”
“Right.” He said dully, looking down at the shackle and wondering if he could pull his hand free with enough tugging. Maybe if he dislocated his thumb. But there was no point in bothering. One way or another, he was to belong to the prince.
Yachi wavered a moment longer before stepping into the parlor, leaving him in miserable privacy to wait. Again.
At least this time he could see into the other room more clearly.
Prince Kageyama Tobio swept in with the same stormy expression as he had the first time. The man seemed permanently aggravated and Hinata suspected that nothing short of a miracle would change that. And Hinata Shouyou, as pretty as everyone told him he was, was no miracle. He shifted positions so that he was out of the prince’s line of sight but could still watch most of the conversation.
“Your highness,” Yachi swept into a deep curtsy, braided hair falling over one shoulder, “Pardon my intrusion, but I have been sent with a message of apology.”
The prince didn’t say anything.
“On behalf of the crown, the kingdom of Aoba Johsai apologizes that we lacked hospitality and diligence in our gift for you. It came to our attention this morning that your consort left your rooms dishonorably, and for that we have no excuse. It is an ancient tradition that your needs be tended to during your stay here and we highly regret that we failed you in this way. We have returned the consort for your use and if there is anything we can do to mend this slight, we will, sire.”
Hinata had never heard the girl say so many words in a row without stammering. She was surprisingly well spoken.
“That’s fine. Thank you.” Kageyama raised a hand and Yachi left the room in a rustle of skirts, understanding her dismissal. Hinata gnawed on his lower lip.
But instead of coming into the bedroom the prince just set something down on a table and left again.
At least ten minutes passed and Hinata remained alone. Every passing second increased his dread until he felt like his skin was going to burst apart along invisible seams. What was the prince doing? When would he come back? How long did Hinata have to sit there posing like a prized show dog before the prince bothered to acknowledge him?
Anger bubbled up in his chest, growing hotter the longer he had to wait and contemplate his fate. Why hadn’t Kageyama explained that he had sent Hinata away on purpose. That it wasn’t Hinata’s fault or the kingdom of Aoba Johsai’s fault at all, that the prince was a selfish, dense--
“-- then tell them I wish to remain undistracted during my time here!”
The door to the main suite banged open and Hinata flinched upright, leaning so that he could peak into the parlor again and see who had entered. A tall dark haired man with a kind face was carrying a stack of papers as he chased after the prince. He appeared exhausted, but stern. Probably some sort of royal advisor.
“The King made it very clear that rejecting this gift would be a sign of ill will, we can’t make this go away without offending their…tradition.”
“You know, most kingdoms would be ashamed of their sex trafficking, they wouldn’t parade it around like it’s something to be proud of, Daichi! I mean, look--”
The prince stepped into the bedroom and pointed at Hinata like he was a prop, like he was around just to prove a point. In that moment, Hinata’s fury could topple the castle walls. He could feel it blooming in his stomach hot enough to melt through the floor.
Daichi sighed and shook his head and looked back at the prince.
“You will have to appear to embrace their traditions for the stay.” He said with a note of finality. “Go unlock the kid and stop yelling about it. We’re here to improve relations, not damage them further.”
“It’s disgusting!”
All of Hinata’s anger and self righteousness vanished in an instant, the insult taking root somewhere deep in his chest- in a place he thought he’d walled off a long time ago. He burned with shame--felt like he’d be eaten alive by it
He was disgusting- a once hopeful young man turned into a human pet.
“Sire!” The advisor’s voice was sharp and he caught the prince’s arm, holding it in a furious grip. “Kageyama, he can hear you.”
The prince paused and glanced at Hinata again, acknowledging him as something more than a decoration for the first time since he’d stormed in. The room was so quiet Hinata could hear his own heart beat thundering through his ears.
“Goodnight, Daichi.” Kageyama said after a long moment, taking the papers from his advisor’s hands. “Ensure that Asahi and Tsukkishima are prepared to open our negotiations tomorrow.”
Daichi stood in the doorway, studying the prince with a familiar sort of resignation.
“Yes, your majesty.”
And then they were alone again.
Hinata made an effort to look relaxed, to push all of his own feelings outside of himself as the prince shut the bedroom door and turned to face him again. But the tension in the room was tighter than a knocked bowstring.
“Is the lock at your wrist or at the bed?”
“My wrist, sire.”
The prince loomed over Hinata, dressed in the sweeping reds and golds of the court, and took his forearm in a firm grip. Kageyama’s hand was big enough that it wrapped completely around his arm, a signet ring digging in a little at the soft skin of his inner elbow. Kageyama unlocked the shackle and it dropped to the floor.
Hinata hesitated.
“Thank you, your majesty.”
“Help me undress.”
Hinata felt panic rise inside of himself like a tide. After the argument he’d overheard he’d thought maybe- but he should have known better. He was there for a reason, and even if the prince found the tradition despicable, that didn’t mean he had to deny himself those benefits. Hypocrisy might as well be a requirement for nobility.
He stood and crossed to the prince, standing at his front and reaching for the golden pin that held his outer robes in place. He pulled off the heavy silk and wool, huge swaths of fabric that were heavy and awkward to fold, proud that his hands did not shake.
But as soon as the outermost layer was gone, the prince moved away.
“I can do the rest.” Kageyama frowned, studying the papers that Diachi had dropped on his desk.
Hinata nodded, cautiously relieved, and stood in the center of the room unsure what to do.
“Is there…anything else?”
The prince didn’t bother looking up at him. Hinata could feel the word disgusting hanging heavy in the air.
“Run me a bath.”
Eager to do something other than contemplate running as fast as he could out of the guest rooms, Hinata nodded and headed for the bathroom.
Dealing with the warm water helped calm his nerves, and Hinata occupied himself with smelling the different soaps and bath salts, wondering if the prince would enjoy any of them. The night before, Kageyama had complained that he was sore from riding, so Hinata poured in some epsom salt and lavender oil. It seemed like the sort of thing a good consort would do.
Hinata wasn’t particularly interested in being a good consort, but he remembered the advice he’d been given upon arrival to the castle, advice that was a constant refrain during his training. A happy guest is a gentler guest.
He scattered a handful of rose petals across the top of the bath for good measure.
The room filled with clouds of soft steam, and Hinata closed his eyes for a moment, tilting his head back and enjoying the sensation. He hadn’t had a warm bath since he’d left home- and even then they had been rushed, lukewarm things. This porcelain tub promised a sort of comfort and relaxation that he longed for.
“What did you do?”
The prince had stepped into the bathroom, shirt hanging open and perfect lips tilted in a dramatic frown. He stalked forward and seized Hinata’s chin with one hand, startling the boy out of his momentary distraction.
“Sire-”
A thumb ran across his cheek, and Hinata braced for what would come next. But the touch wasn’t affectionate, Kageyama was rubbing at the makeup that had started to melt away under the steam.
Hinata let out a cry of pain and pulled back, the bruise underneath the skin now showing it’s true color. A livid red and purple mark that stretched across his cheek and under his left eye.
He tried to hide it under his hand, feeling the aching pain kick up again after the prince’s rough treatment, staring at Kageyama without knowing what to say or what to do.
Kageyama looked nearly as stumped.
“Someone hit you.”
“I ran into a servant carrying a laundry basket.” Hinata’s voice sounded unconvincing, even to himself, but he knew he was supposed to deny any mistreatment.
“Right. A basket with knuckles.” The prince’s voice was sarcastic. “I know what sort of mark a hand makes. Who hit you?”
Hinata was half tempted to let the prince know that it might as well have been him. It was this man’s fault and he didn’t have any right to interrogate Hinata about the state of his face! Anger glittered in the consort’s brown eyes and his free hand curled into a fist as he tried to control his famously short temper.
“Do you want me to help you wash, your majesty?”
“No!” Kageyama snapped. “Answer me! I am the Prince of Ravens, firstborn son of Kurasuno’s throne and heir-”
“And it’s none of your business!” Hinata’s voice echoed off the marble countertops and tiled floor, painfully loud in the otherwise quiet room. His bruise throbbed in pain but he forced himself to meet the man’s eyes again.
“Your majesty, my body might be a gift to you, but the rest of me isn’t.”
The prince’s face twitched, expression hard to read.
“Go.” The prince said finally. “I’ll bathe on my own.”
Hinata’s cheek ached.
“I’m not allowed to leave.”
“I don’t mean leave as in-!” Kageyama’s frustration was palpable, and Hinata watched as the man struggled to reign it in. “I mean, go to sleep or something. I don’t have any desire for companionship.”
~~~~~
Hinata woke with a start, flinching away from the touch on his shoulder and trying to retreat despite the cramped space on the settee. In the dark all he could see was a strong chin and a delicate nose, and it took him a long moment to realize where he was and who was waking him.
“Sire?” He sat up and pushed his skimpy outfit down over his lap, hoping it hadn’t risen up too far while he slept.
“You don’t have to sleep over here.”
Hinata couldn’t see Kageyama’s face but he assumed the man was frowning.
“Okay?”
“The bed is big. I won’t touch you.”
Hinata was mostly inclined to believe the prince, but it still felt dangerous to agree. If he wasn’t pleasuring the man there was no reason to share a bed with him. Why would Kageyama want him to move if not so that he was within easy reach?
“You’re supposed to touch me.” He said finally, standing from the small couch and glancing towards the huge bed with its many soft blankets and pillows. It was a tempting sight.
Kageyama made a noise and even in the low light Hinata could picture the look of disgust on his face. The prince opened his mouth, probably to say something rude, and HInata couldn’t stop himself.
“Do you not enjoy the company of men?” He blurted out, irritated by Kageyama’s reactions. He knew that the practice of consorts might seem distasteful to people of other cultures but he was starting to feel insulted. Hinata might dislike his position, but that didn’t mean others could look down on him for it.
“I don’t enjoy the company of people who are forced to cater to me.”
“Well, well fine- but don’t treat me like I’m,” He paused, voice wobbling a little, some emotion he thought he’d stamped out a long time ago rising traitorously in his throat, “dirty.”
The prince was quiet. Hinata wondered what the man was thinking, wished there was more than just moonlight in the room to see by.
Finally Kageyama turned away and crawled into bed, settling himself under the heavy silks and stretching his long limbs out across the feather pillows. He didn’t repeat his invitation but Hinata felt it hanging heavy in the air between them. His stomach turned.
Some part of him had hoped to hear some reassurance that he wasn’t dirty. But clearly, the prince wasn’t one to coddle, and his silence was a clear response on its own.
Hinata was tired. He was angry. He climbed into the other side of the bed, grateful to cover his mostly naked body, and sank into unimagined luxury. He could feel the warmth of Kageyama’s body, even though there were several feet between them. He smelled like rose petals.
The room was quiet for a long time. Long enough that Hinata assumed his master had fallen asleep. Then-
“What’s your name?”
Hinata’s face burned in the dark.
“Hinata Shouyou.”