Updated Part

Title: To This One Night
Author: sukunami
Fandom: Final Fantasy 8
Pairing: Seifer x Squall
Warnings: NC-17, Slash, AU, Mpreg
Summary: Seifer uses a love spell in the attempt to win over Squall [request fic for Miss Dincht]

To This One Night

With a hooded gaze, Seifer watched the traditional sharing of cake between his brother and sister-in-law. The large circular table to the side of the head table was mounted with numerous small cakes and pastries, each one made by skilled chefs of the attending guests. The recently wedded couple smiled warmly at each other before sharing one of the small cakes, but Seifer easily recognized their 'marital bliss' as an act. Even though they were destined to marry before they had been born, the twosome had met only a fortnight before their wedding day. There couldn't be emotion between them this soon. What a sad life they held despite their status of heir prince and future queen.

After taking a drink of the hard cider, the blonde smirked at the blissful reality that he wasn't in the same position. Though sharing their father's blood, Seifer was born from the third wife of the present king. Isaac and Irvine were born of the first beloved queen, a woman of long auburn hair and unmatched beauty. Though her kindness was great, her heart wasn't strong enough to extend her life. Then there was the second wife, her life taken with the birth of a stillborn child. And last a young woman of golden hair, Seifer's mother who was cherished most by her king and thus hidden away like a precious treasure. Others found it strange how a man of such large frame and crude mouth could ever have been born from the delicate woman, but Seifer believed himself a saint when it came to his mother's foul moods.

As potentially third in line for the throne, a marriage had been arranged for the youth, but the sickly girl had died years past. By that time, Seifer had shown more interest in the blade as opposed to politics. More than once he threatened tutors to a duel in order to avoid another lesson, and more than a few tutors had been frightened away by such tactics. As any good leader would, the king took advantage of the boy's vigor and set him to the task of learning strategy along with his other weapons training. It wasn't a hard path for Seifer to travel and become a respected general of the king's army. In exchange, the 'Golden Wolf' gained the freedom to choose his own partners in life.

A hand clapped his shoulder. "Feeling depressed, pup?"

"Hardly. She looks like a spoiled bitch to me."

Taking his place to the blonde's side, Irvine relaxed in the large chair. "You've only exchanged names with the young lady. Don't be so judgmental."

"Heh, you're just worried about your own coming in less than a year."

"Of course not. I remember the lovely from years back, as should you. Regal but strong. Don't think I'll mind having her around."

Seifer raised his glass in a mock toast. "Here's to your optimism. May it bring you a woman who looks finer than your horse and doesn't cry when you fuck her."

An amused smile was the only reply Irvine could offer before two loud drumbeats signaled the beginning of the evening's entertainment. In time with complex beats, eight dancers dressed in brightly colored cloth made their way into the large dinning hall. Except for bare feet, exposed stomachs, and space available for their eyes, the lithe figures were covered completely in the outfits that flowed with every movement.

Though they were all synced in the dance, Seifer found his eyes continually drawn to a single form within the shifting circle. She held more grace, more respect for the dance as compared to the other moving bodies around her. Granted, the normal eye probably couldn't tell the subtle difference, but instructed to avoid a slashing blade, the blonde clearly saw every quick movement made by the dancers, and the woman in his sight held a natural flow that no one could be trained.

After the first long piece and with a sudden change in beat, seven dancers dropped to their knees and crouched low to the ground. The remaining figure, the woman that had entrapped Seifer's gaze, easily fell in step to the slower and softer rhythm of the new song. Using the kneeling forms as props, she displayed beautiful grace with impossibly slow balancing tricks followed by flamboyant movements that only a dancer could get away with. Only once did she directly faced the blonde, cool iron meeting bright green eyes. Seifer found difficulty in breathing after the bare moment of contact.

"You appear bewitched, pup."

Turning, Seifer decided he didn't care for the man's grin. "It's a dance, you ass. It's supposed to entrance."

"Certainly they are better than fair, but you know I wasn't talking about the dance."

"Don't be a fool."

"I'm not the one drooling on his plate," he muttered before stealing a sip of ale. Then an eyebrow rose. "Oh, looks like your nymph is about to escape."

Confused, Seifer looked to the open area of the dinning hall to find the dancers finished and presently scattering into the crowd for spare coins, but the object of his focus appeared too proud for that and strode to the open doors. Damning his pride, the blonde leapt out of his chair to chase after the fleeing woman, ignoring the sounds of laughter from his brother. More familiar with the darkened hallways of the castle, Seifer soon found the colorfully dressed dancer standing at an intersection, obviously uncertain about the way to exit.

"Lost?"

She turned around smoothly, gray eyes glinting with suspicion.

Forcing charm into his smirk, Seifer approached closer to tower his additional six inches of height over the surprisingly tall woman. "Care for me to show you the way out, my lady?"

"... ..." She retreated from the large man.

Seifer matched her steps. "I was impressed with your dance."

Pressed against the wall, her eyes narrowed in warning. "You are mistaken."

The blonde straightened at the voice, but didn't draw back. "You're a man?"

"Most of us are."

"Interesting," he said, truly impressed that the group was made of men who danced with enough grace to replace women. "But I don't understand how that makes me mistaken."

Slowly Seifer raised a hand to remove the veil hiding most of the face before him. With the lacing unhooked from his ear, the soft fabric slipped easily to his chest. The revealed skin only intensified the hardness of the gray eyes, streaks of blue in the orbs just barely visible at the close distance. Pale pink lips were in a firm line, but still appeared full and delectable in the dim light of the torches. Thoughtlessly, Seifer leaned forward to take a taste of the young man.

The attempt of a kiss was halted when a sharp pain along the side of his neck quickly brought the blonde down to one knee. Coughing Seifer looked up dazedly at the dancer to find a fine elbow still raised from the unexpected attack.

"Trust me - you are mistaken," he stated tersely before striding off in a flutter of clothing.

Part laughing part coughing, Seifer moved to sit against the wall and gently massaged his injured neck. It had been a long while since someone had managed to get under his guard so easily and actually cause serious pain. He smiled at the misfortune of the dancer whose attempt to drive off the prince only inflamed more desire in Seifer. Knowing the time of celebration would last over the week, he was certain that he would come across the man once again.

Irvine emerged from the darkness of the hallway, interest lighting the violet eyes when he came upon Seifer. "You know, I don't think that'll pass as a love mark."

The blonde smirked. "What, couldn't get your own partner for tonight and had to interrupt my own fun?"

He shook his head. "Did you know that at least half of those 'ladies' are in fact men?"

"I just learned that fact myself."

"Oh? Well, I was coming to warn you, but..."

Sighing, Seifer pushed himself up to his feet. "Why do I doubt the sincerity of your concern?"

"And yet still I missed the show. What'd you do, feel him up?"

"I wish. I'm certain I wouldn't have been disappointed."

Shaking his head, but clearly unsurprised at the man's comment, Irvine hooked an arm around the broad shoulders. "Come and share a drink with me. We'll mourn this lonely night together."

---------------------------

"No, no, no! Keep your leg raised throughout the entire spin."

Scowling, the brunette was tempted to tell the overweight man to demonstrate the move if he really thought it physically possible. But he held his tongue, knowing the consequences of such comments. Placing raw feet back into the ready position, he waited for his owner to clap out the rhythm he was to follow. The first steps were easy enough, but again he missed the final move that the wide man desired.

"No! I told you, keep the leg raised!" He emphasized his words with a wooden staff knocking against the offending leg.

"But wouldn't he need a third leg to do it without falling?"

Startled, the brunette and his owner looked quickly to the side at the intruding voice. Leaning comfortably against a tree, the large blonde sneered at the two men.

"Who..." Dark eyes widened with recognition before the man bowed low. "My, my prince!"

Unmoving, the dancer only glared at the large man. The intense gaze by the same green eyes from the night before made the exposed skin of his chest shiver, but seeing the collar of the blonde's shirt upturned to cover the most likely bruised skin brought a ghost of a smile to his lips.

"Fool, get to your knees," his owner demanded in a hiss while swinging the staff such that it hit solidly against the back of lean legs. Unbalanced, the brunette fell to the ground, silently furious at being forced to kneel before the large man.

"None of that," came a deep growl as booted feet approached. "Get to your feet."

Looking up, the dancer found a hand held out to him for aid in standing. Blue-gray eyes firm in refusal, he curled his legs beneath himself to rise on his own power, and then glared at the supposed prince.

"Heh, stubborn to a fault, aren't you. What's your name?"

Stormy eyes narrowed and he held back a warning growl with the utmost effort.

"My prince, if I may be of service - I am Cid Kramer, and this is my finest dancer, Squall."

"Squall, is it? I must say that I was enchanted by your performance last night. Is more expected for this evening?"

Cid spoke before allowing the brunette a chance to reply. "Not 'til the final night, my prince, but if you desire it, the boy can be yours until then."

The sneer widened. "For a price, I assume."

"Not for one as noble as you, my prince! However, if you enjoy your time..."

Beneath the neutral mask the brunette bore, fear burned coldly. While he had served the role of companion before, Squall didn't care for the lust clear in the prince's eyes. Old lords were quick to please and easy to tire before a more invasive situation could take place. But this... this was a man perhaps equal his age and of stronger build. A man he had recently injured. Worse, a man of royalty that he could never refuse.

"I dare say that I will." Unyielding fingers gripped the brunette's chin. "Perhaps I should take what was denied me last night?"

The lean body arched slightly in tension, but Squall refused to flinch at the hold and threat.

"Or maybe another time." The warm fingers trailed loosely back from their hold, causing a chill throughout the taut body. "Get a shirt on. We're leaving."

Doing his best to follow the order without appearing an awed peasant, Squall walked with forced grace to retrieve the shirt he left folded to the side. With every step and move made, he clearly felt the other's stare watching his bared back. He was half surprised that the blonde didn't retract his order before the coarse material of the shirt slipped over his head and blocked out the searing gaze. Turning, Squall ignored the greedy gaze of his owner and nodded his readiness to the smirking prince.

Without a word, the blonde spun around and walked off into the wooded area behind the troupe's camp ground. Equally silent, the dancer followed the other's lead. From his position, Squall was mildly impressed to observe how the large man easily maneuvered in the close quarters of thin branches and brush, barely creating a sound as he traveled. The prince seemed oddly in his element here.

The blonde soon stopped at the edge of a small rise and motioned the dancer forward. "Do you care for the games of the festival?"

Squall appeared bored as he looked down on the various stands crowded around by people of all ages. "Never played them."

"Oh? Then you're in a treat. No one robs you of money like these bastards."

"Then why play?"

"For the chance to beat them at their own game, of course."

"... As you wish, my prince." Straight away, a hand lifted before his face and a finger tapped the cross-eyed brunette on the nose.

"None of that crap from you. My name is Seifer."

"Then, as you wish, my prince Seifer."

He glared at the brunette. "You see, now you are purposely trying to be annoying. It won't work, lovely. I'll have you know that I can be equally irritating or worse, so don't test me."

Squall remained quiet about his suspicions that the words were indeed truth about the blonde.

With the larger man in the lead, they made way to the festival grounds that were crowded from those eager to enjoy the first day of the wedding celebration. Though uncomfortable with the blonde, Squall found himself drawing closer to the man if only to put a bit more distance between himself and the large number of people.

Eyeing the various vendors and games as they pasted, Squall was amazed at the crap people would spend their coins on. There was everything from worthless jewelry to carved toys to decent weapons for sale, but no individual thing attracted his eye. However distracted, he accidentally pressed against a solid back when Seifer stopped in place, an odd mix of light fragrance and metal flooding his senses. Quickly, Squall stepped back to reform a comfortable distance between them.

Amused green eyes settled on the brunette. "Care to play one?"

Glancing to the side, Squall saw a simple knife throwing game that had apparently caught the blonde's interest. "Whatever."

Placing a coin on the table, Seifer received three blades in return. After handling one of the knives as if to test its balance, he threw it at the smallest of the targets. The knife wasn't even angled correctly to embed in the wooden planks of the target, let alone high enough. Squall breathed a chuckle at the attempt.

"They must be weighted," the blonde muttered. He took more time before the second throw, but only succeeded in hitting the target with the wrong end of the knife. "Well, shit. Here, last one for you."

Squall stared at the offered blade. "It's your coin."

"And this is how I wish to use it. Go ahead. My money is lost no matter."

Sighing, he took the knife from the prince, bounced it slightly to feel its weight, then flung it smoothly at the small circle. At the sight of a raised pale eyebrow, Squall briefly explained, "Just another act."

"And to the winner a prize." The old man held out a stuffed toy of dark cloth that was in the crude image of a kitten.

A large hand promptly picked up the toy and Seifer placed it on top of his own shoulder, the stuffing of sand or the like spreading well enough for it to balance there without support. "Let's go, nymph. There should be performances further ahead."

With a vague frown, Squall eyed back the way they had entered the grounds, but nodded his consent anyway.

"Or maybe you'd rather leave?"

Staring into the unexpectedly observant gaze, the brunette was faced with a troubling decision of either staying crammed in the reeking crowd or being led into a bedroom. At the moment with the beginnings of a headache from too many people invading his sacred space, he was quite ready to dare the bedroom and hope to distract the blonde from the activities that he had most likely planned.

Smirking at the hesitation, Seifer grabbed his arm and dragged the smaller man between the booths to escape the crush of the crowds. Once in relatively open space except for the scattering of couples and families, Squall jerked his arm out of the hold and stepped back from the blonde. Unbothered, Seifer motioned with his freed hand towards the castle.

"No sense wasting time here," he stated, green eyes bright with anticipation.

"Whatever you desire," Squall muttered between gritted teeth.

As before, he followed the blonde's lead, though took better care this time to pay attention to his surroundings. More likely than not, he'd have to find his way back once the prince was done with him. They walked further into the stone walls than the brunette expected, and he hoped that his memory was good enough to remember the numerous turns and doorways to take. Eventually they walked up steep stairway, oddly dusty as if from lack of use. Allowing his mind to blank out, Squall focused ahead at the swaying tail of the ridiculous toy still resting on Seifer's shoulder.

In time the steps ended at a platform where a single dark door stood. In an overly gentlemanly gesture, Seifer opened the door for the brunette to enter the room first. Expecting a room of obvious wealth and a shamelessly large bed, Squall's steps slowed when he found the room filled with furniture ruined by fire and age.

"Expecting gold and silk?"

Squall opened his mouth to reply, but then looked straight ahead at a broken section of wall. Dark eyebrows scrunched in curiosity, he walked forward until he was a step from the rather large opening. The view was unlike anything he had seen before, high above the expanse of meadows and forest of bright greens. Further in the distance were immense mountains that reached into the clouds, and hidden just barely beyond that was an ocean that Squall had only heard rumors of.

"Are you afraid?"

Startled out of his dazed viewing of the scenery, he looked at the suddenly close prince and frowned.

Seifer laughed lightly. "Of those I bring here, most refuse to step beyond the doorway for fear of ash on their shoes. And no one has dared stepping this close to the edge. But of course you would be different."

"What happened here?"

Broad shoulders shrugged. "Long before my time. I think the room was used to imprison special persons. During the war decades ago, I bet a catapult launched something through the wall that later set everything ablaze. The room was left forgotten all these years. Who knew it'd have such an amazing view?"

Turning, Squall examined the room more closely to notice that though the remaining furniture was burnt and worn, no ash or debris littered the floor. "Why did you bring me here?"

In a form of reply, a large hand hooked behind his head, pulling the brunette in for a kiss. Uncertain of the footing around him thus unable to easily escape, Squall let the prince do as he wished, the thick tongue feeling strange in his mouth. It took several seconds for the dancer to realize what was wrong - it was too tender. Instead of thrashing about in search of dominance as with other lords, the tongue stroked in a simple, almost begging request for response. Even so, Squall denied such surrender to the man.

Seifer sighed into the joining. "So fucking stubborn. Don't you want what I can offer you?"

"... ..."

"As it is, you are mine for the next few days."

And that was the crutch of the matter - a man marked as a slave doesn't refuse the desires of a prince. Certainly not when his services had been already promised to the blonde man. Which services Seifer desired were of no question, green eyes appearing like those of a hungry cat.

Bowing his head slightly, the dancer slowly sank down to his knees. Whatever the prince may have said was interrupted with a quiet groan as Squall placed his hand firmly against the cloth hidden arousal. Without sound or expression, he undid the lacings of the dark trousers while the thumb of his other hand stroked roughly. Pulling out the lacing completely, Squall then freed the hardening member from the pants. After an unnoticeable hesitation, he gently massaged the reddened head with his lips and tongue. Meanwhile, the soft lacing was wrapped once around the bottom of the thick length, the material then moved along the aroused flesh with a pulley type motion.

"Holy fuck... right... there..."

Squall barely heard the meaningless words and ignored the strong hand in his hair that none too subtly suggested for him to move further along the erection. Taking both ends of the lacing into one hand, he tightened the hold to deny release and moved his freed hand to caress underneath. His mind far from the task at hand, Squall didn't notice the length of time he kept the prince on the edge. Only when the hand braced on his shoulder gripped hard enough to cause him to whimper quietly did the dancer take the lacing off from around the erection. Soon after, hot liquid filled his mouth with bitterness, and by reflex he swallowed.

Shivering as if cold, Seifer collapsed to his knees and used the brunette to hold him upright. "Gods, and here I thought you'd be an innocent," he managed with heavy breath.

"... ..." Arms resting loosely at his sides, Squall let the blonde hug him tightly and he hoped silently that this would be enough for the prince, though he knew the opposite would most likely be true.

Unexpectedly, a hand drifted down to cup his groin. There was a long pause before Seifer leaned back slowly from the brunette, green eyes narrowed in a mix of emotions. Then he scoffed loudly. "Whatever I want, huh?"

"... ..." Though he forced a neutral expression, Squall was confused and partly afraid of the shift to displeasure in the prince's tone.

Awkwardly regaining his feet, Seifer glared down at the dancer. "Get out."

With practiced grace, Squall stood up and directly walked for the open doorway. Before he had the chance to wonder at his punishment for losing a prince as his customer, the deeply toned voice stopped him.

"Be ready at the same time tomorrow."

"... As you wish, my prince," he replied before resuming his exit.

Once certain that the blonde wasn't following, Squall paused during his descent from the tower. One arm wrapped tightly around his abdomen and a hand placed lightly on the golden circlet around his neck, he spared the moment to damn his existence. Parents either dead or uncaring, he had been sold to Cid by his relations before his fifth birthday. Thirteen years he had been struggling to work up the money to pay for his freedom, and now this prince could easily drop the remaining gold he needed to rid himself of the enslaving necklace. But...

Sighing at his worthless pride, Squall straightened and continued his way downstairs.

---------------------------

"Seifer, if you growl once more, I'll start wondering if you got bitten by a rabid dog."

Green eyes narrowed further as he stared out of the window to the darkened sky. The Wolf was upset. He was angry at the nymph that held his attention and yet remained cold as ever. More so, he was furious at himself for not being able to drive the dancer from his mind.

"Gods," Irvine chuckled. "Don't tell me that you are actually pining over that slave."

"Three days. Three fucking days and..." He blinked. "Slave? What are you talking about?"

"Does anything beyond warfare stick in that brain of yours? That dancer of yours is a slave. Surely you've seen his collar."

"You mean the necklace he wears?"

A frustrated sigh. "That 'necklace' could kill him in a blink of the eye if he were to go against his owner. It also makes certain he doesn't run off in the middle of the night. Only his owner can remove the cursed thing."

Now mentioned, Seifer remembered it from lectures about such magical items, but they were expensive and rarely used anymore. Most magic was limited to the elves these days, humans apparently breeding out their magical abilities. But at least it explained the reason Squall stayed with the performing troupe that he seemed to hate.

"If you're having difficulties getting him into bed, I'd be happy to give you pointers as your older and more experienced brother," he said with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

"That isn't the problem."

"Oh? Perhaps you are unable--"

Seifer cut him short with a deadly glare.

Irvine laughed, obviously unthreatened. "Then tell me what's bothering you."

Sighing, green eyes shifted back to the night sky. "He doesn't respond no matter what I do."

"Is that all. Certainly Kiros would have an aphrodisiac for you to use."

"The little bastard still wouldn't let himself enjoy any of it. And... I don't want just a fuck."

Eyes wide in interest, Irvine grinned. "And here I thought all of your male partners were just about a quick fuck."

"... ..." It was true that he used men only for physical pleasures which a refined woman of the courts couldn't offer, but Squall brought out different emotions and thoughts that no other had managed to before. Seifer doubted it was anything singular about the dancer that created this strange hunger for him, forget the young man's ignorance of causing that desire. Once. Just once he wanted to have the lithe body at his mercy, begging for increased pleasure by his hands. But thus far, the brunette refused to respond to even a simple kiss.

"Well, if it's a matter changing his mind instead of just his body, why not ask Laguna?"

"What, a type of love spell?"

"There's only one more night of the festivals. Might as well make the best of it," Irvine stated with a lazy smile that suggested he had plans for the coming night as well.

Smirking, Seifer leaned back in his chair and stretched out his lengthy body. "Fuck, why not? It's only one night."

~ <> ~

Green eyes were fixed as Seifer watched the current performance. The dancers were dressed in dark colors this time, clothes tight to their lean frames and faces hidden by feathered masks. Instead of a solo dance this night, Squall was paired with a smaller woman of shoulder length hair. His teeth clenched, Seifer watched as they moved in sync with bodies pressed closed together in a way that clearly mimicked sex. He cursed the woman's luck, but then smiled bitterly at the realization of why the man was so difficult to arouse - Squall would obviously need more than some heavy petting.

The dance ended with scattered clapping and the performers moved from the floor in search of tokens and other possibilities. With a stride stiff in purpose, one dancer made his way to the end of the head table. Eyes gray in the shade of his mask, Squall stared down at the sitting prince but said nothing.

"Impressive as always."

"We leave in the morning."

Tilting his head slightly, Seifer viewed a large man sitting at a far table of the dining hall, the dark eyes clearly focused on them. "Don't worry. You've more than pleased me. Think you can bear one last night in my presence?"

"If you wish it, my prince."

"Come. There should be refreshments waiting in my room."

They were silent walking through the empty hallways, though Seifer smiled at the realization that the dancer no longer fell in step directly behind him, but closer to his side. Whether the brunette would admit it or not, a sense of comfort had developed between them. Not nearly the level Seifer desired, but it was there.

Letting Squall enter the chambers before him, Seifer eyed the black clad ass without shame. With the door closed and locked, he turned to the still standing brunette who was currently frowning at an object sitting on a couch arm.

"Why do you keep this?"

"Because you won it for me, obviously."

That only made his frown deepen as he adjusted a bent ear of the toy kitten.

"Sit down and relax."

Lowering to the cushioned seat of the couch, Squall removed his feathered mask and laid it on top of the small table. Meanwhile, the prince took two long stemmed glasses in hand and offered out the one with a grape placed on the rim. The dancer eyed the dark red liquid, wary of the contents.

"It's simple juice. I know alcohol doesn't sit well with you."

His expression softening, Squall took the glass.

"To this one night."

Nodding to the toast, Squall tapped his glass against the other and after a testing sip, he then drank down the juice deeply, most likely thirsty from the performance earlier. Watching the dancer closely, Seifer only sipped at his red wine, barely tasting the expensive liquid. Slowly the brunette lowered his glass, and gray-blue eyes blinked in slight confusion.

"Squall," he said softly, taking the glass out of the loose grip and placing it onto the table with his own drink. Cool eyes were fixed with the green before him as Seifer leaned in close. He gently licked tight lips, warning Squall of his intentions. When the dancer didn't flinch at the moist touch, Seifer pressed further in the attempt to coax him to open up. Eventually there was surrender and the prince deepened the kiss. As several times before, there was no response when he stroked the juice sweetened tongue. Just when he was about to concede to another failure, a light touch was at his back and Squall leaned into the kiss.

Eventually they parted, breaths heavy as their eyes met. Smirking, Seifer ran his fingers through the thick locks and angled him to better see eyes of widened pupils thinly ringed by gray. Without a word, the blonde stood up from the couch and gently pulled the dancer close to him. Squall sighed quietly at the contact before his lips were once again taken into a brief kiss.

"To this one night," Seifer whispered against heated lips.

Taking a wrist in hand, he quickly led the dancer to the adjoining room. Silently he reminded himself to calm his lust and enjoy the moment. Seifer directed the man to sit on the end of the mattress, then was caught off guard when slim, but strong arms wrapped around his back to pull him close and force them flat onto the bed.

"Gods, Squall," he said as he buried his face into the hollow of the brunette's neck and took in the unique scent. Nibbling at the salty flesh just above the golden circlet, Seifer let his hand drift downward along cool black material. At the discovery of already hardened flesh, he smirked and squeezed firmly.

"Hah... Seifer..."

Breath caught in his throat, the prince leaned up to better see the pleasure filled face. "You little prick. I knew you could simply say my name."

Eyes closed tight, Squall panted at the continued pressure on his groin. "Shouldn't... not my place... nh!"

"Stubborn ass."

Momentarily relieving the man of pleasurable stress, Seifer slid back off the bed in order to rid himself of constricting clothing. Lacing was never so difficult to undo, but it gave him extra moments to look over the darkly clothed boy taunt in need. When hungry eyes scanned his own body, creamy skin shivered in desire. Placing a knee onto the mattress, he set to work at releasing Squall from the tight pants, slowly revealing a healthy erection and then tanned legs.

A cool hand pressed lightly against his cheek, asking for his attention. "Seifer... I need..."

"Shush, I'm getting there."

He shook his head, dark locks shifting like silk in the dim light of the room. Lips formed in a vague smile, Squall stood up from the mattress while grazing fingers against the broad chest, purposely teasing tight nipples. He walked around to the side and crawled onto the plush pillows at the head of the bed where he motioned the blonde forward.

Licking his lips at the sight of lightly darkened skin complemented by the black shirt and no other clothes, Seifer moved quickly up the large mattress. He leaned in to kiss the tempting lips and savored the continuing response he received in return. Hands firm on his shoulders, the blonde was turned around so that Squall had him pressed against the headboard. As he straddled the man's thighs, the dancer deepened their kiss and rotated his hips forward, prompting a shared moan between them. Seifer stroked smooth skin hidden under soft cloth while he let the brunette choose his own rhythm as their erections brushed against each other.

Suddenly there was a pause in all motions as a careful hand gripped his arousal, easily directing it into place. Seifer couldn't hold back a blissful growl as tightness overwhelmed him. The dancer separated their kiss, whimpering softly at the intrusion of his body.

"You all right?"

Forehead resting on the blonde's shoulder, Squall breathed deeply before moving up on his knees and then impaling himself fully on the thick erection, a quiet cry escaping his lips. He rested there momentarily, squeezing tightly around the incased hardness. Then he began to move once more with a painfully slow rhythm.

"Nh... so fucking perfect," he stated roughly, taking a pierced earlobe into his mouth.

If it weren't for other things taking up his senses, Seifer would have laughed at the situation. He had planned to take control of the night's activities, to show the dancer what he had been missing all this time. Instead, Squall had succeeded in proving his value to the prince, and Seifer didn't have it in him to complain. Their hands were everywhere in fervent touches, cloth created sweet heat against skin, and noises were quiet in mutual content.

The final release was blessed, but then the orgasmic high drained away to be replaced by bitterness in Seifer. He placed a hand in the sweat dampened hair and massaged the scalp lightly while recovering from their activities. Kissing an exposed temple, he softly whispered an apology.

Abruptly Squall pushed up from his position, roughly knocking aside the arms that held him. Seifer had a bare chance to see eyes inflamed with cold fire before the dancer leaned heavily on a knee that was placed on top of the softened penis. The prince could barely find air to growl out a curse when a hand gripped his throat painfully, fingers purposely placed on the healing bruise from nights previous.

The dancer's lips twitched in silent fury before he apparently gave up attempts at speaking and quickly moved off of the stunned and pained man. Watching the other stride off, Seifer forced himself to get off the bed and limp after the half-clothed brunette.

"Squall...! Wait a fucking second."

He paused at the closed entrance, but didn't turn around. "What, didn't have enough fucking for one night?"

"You can't just leave like this. You aren't even dressed."

Releasing the lock, he opened the door in the clear statement that he was going to do just that.

"I swear, I didn't mean--"

"To drug me for an easy fuck?"

"Only because you wouldn't give me a chance!"

Squall scoffed. "I was a fool to trust you."

Words unable to form because of the constriction in his chest, Seifer stood stunned in place as the object of his desire left without a glance back. To that point, the prince had managed to convince himself that he only needed the one night to rid himself of the foolish obsession over a man he knew nothing about. There was never a thought about breaking trust. How could he consider such a thing from the frigid man?

Scowling at the closed door, he mumbled a curse at Laguna before picking up the emptied glass and throwing hard against a far wall. The sorcerer had said the potion would last at least the full night and possibly several days afterwards. Seifer had planned for more than the 'easy fuck' that the night had become. He had hoped to draw out words from the smaller man, and perhaps even discover what he could do make Squall desire him. But that was only a foolish hope, outweighed by the simple need to have the brunette enjoy his time with the prince.

Sighing, Seifer spared one last look at the door before returning to his bedroom. They both needed the time to cool down and think. Picking up the discarded pants from the floor near his bed, Seifer fingered the dark cloth while making the silent promise to amend his wrongs as best he could in the morning. However, he held no hopes to rebuild the unrealized trust between them. He knew he didn't deserve that with the trust destroyed because of his impatient desire for one night of false love.

Lying on a collection of thick fabrics that served as his bed in the large wagon, Squall rested with his eyelids partially open - too tired to move, and yet too anxious to sleep. From the length of their current stopping point, he assumed that they had arrived to their destination, a place he had sworn to never see a second time. But it's not like a slave has much choice in such a matter. Over two months past they had left this castle and kingdom, Cid obviously angry at the absence of payment from the blonde prince, but due to issues with a couple other dancers, a quick flight from the area was necessary. Squall hadn't known at the time that it would only be a momentary escape from these realms.

A sudden wave of nausea flowed through Squall, and he glared at a nearby pail with annoyance. He didn't have the energy to want to empty and clean the container after another episode, so he tried to force his body to calm itself. Nearly a month after first leaving this area, the odd illness had taken a hold of Squall. General annoyances aside, it made performing impossible at times and brought about several punishments for 'playing ill'.

Logically he couldn't blame Seifer given the timeline, but at first he had spoken quiet curses at the absent prince. Anymore, Squall didn't hold hot anger against the man and his actions. With time and reason, the dancer came to the conclusion that he was more so upset at himself for ever believing that the loud man could be more than the arrogant noble that he was. At least the larger man didn't take him forcefully to bed, but to use such a poison... Squall felt it was levels beneath the man, or rather the man he thought he had started to understand.

Curling further into the blankets for comfort, he smiled tightly at the idea that the blonde wouldn't want him now, so it didn't matter that they had returned to the castle for a performance at some celebration. Why was it that nobles seemed to find more events to celebrate than the common man?

Without warning, the backdoor of the wagon opened wide to interrupt his muddled thoughts, the harsh light of day making Squall squint as he carefully sat up to face the intruder.

"Gods, you look like shit."

"Good day to you as well, my prince. Now leave."

Shock at the sight of the sickly dancer quickly faded from Seifer, the man's expression softening. He walked the few strides inside, then knelt by the still sitting man. "Is there anything here you can't live without?"

"...What?"

"What do you hold precious in this mockery of living conditions?"

Confusion mixed with fatigue, Squall wasn't able to check himself before glancing briefly over at an old jewel box, the cheery wood scratched and scuffed throughout the years of living on the road. Apparently the larger man caught the quick shift of eyes since he took the box in hand, and then gently placed in on the dancer's lap.

"Now I'll leave, but with you," Seifer stated just before lifting the lean man into his arms and standing.

The sudden movement was too much for Squall, and being held tightly by the blonde, the dancer barely avoided vomiting on them both. Instead, it was the prince who had his back covered in vomit. It was deathly silent for a time, Squall wondering how many people survived the day after soiling royalty in this way. He was surprised at the sound of a chuckle.

"Well, I suppose I deserved that. Ready to go?"

Unable to do much else while exhausted and held so close, Squall rested his head on the broad chest and clutched tightly at the jewel box in his hands as he was carried outside. It was then he realized that the illness must have spread to his very spirit for him to not be too bothered at being held by the prince he was supposed to hate. No, not hate. To hate him would mean the dancer held some kind of care about the man.

"Hey, what's this now?" Cid waddled up from another part of the forming camp, a longhaired man close behind him. Squall had barely the chance to recognize the second man as someone who was always near Seifer, before the fat man smiled tightly at the two men. "My prince, no offense intended to--"

"How much for this man?"

Squall's breath hitched at the growled question. Even wasted away as he was at the moment, the prince still held desires for him.

"Well, for the night--"

"No, I mean his contract and person. How much do you desire?"

Stormy eyes stared up at Seifer in shock, immediately afraid of questioning the blonde's motives.

"Ah, but my prince, this one is my lead dancer. Without him--"

"Answer my question," Seifer bit out, his anger clear under the surface.

Cid cleared his throat. "Ten thousand gold."

Before Squall could argue about the insane amount, Seifer spoke first. "Done. Irvine, give him two of the purses."

The longhaired man shook his head with an amused grin before placing the small leather pouches in a sweaty hand, the sound of numerous jewels inside clear to Squall's ears. Once again sold for a price like any animal, the dancer felt a forgotten ache in his chest.

"You're paid, so get this fucking collar off of his neck."

After happily eyeing the quality of the jewels, Cid quickly placed the pouches in his coat. "If you desire, my prince, I can sell the collar to you as well. He'd more than likely run--" He was interrupted by a hand placed gently on his shoulder.

"If you wish to live, just follow the man's orders without speaking."

As if suddenly noticing something at the longhaired man's words, the dark eyes went wider at viewing Seifer's face. "Y, yes. I understand."

The collar was easily removed in a mocking way, only the owner of the collar able to undo the enslaving circlet. Though there was no reason for the difference, Squall felt like he could breathe easier without the thing around his neck. The moment after the item was removed, Seifer turned for the castle, his stride long and firm despite the weight he still carried.

"...You paid too much."

The blonde scoffed at the comment. "No price would have been too much. I was planning to do this last time, but your troupe was gone before I awoke the next morning."

"And what do you desire of your new slave?"

"First, for this illness of yours to be treated. Then you can do whatever the hell you want with your freedom."

"Don't lie," Squall spoke quietly.

A voice called behind them before a reply was formed. "Hey, now, Seifer. No need to rush off with your birthing day gift like a spoiled child."

The dancer scowled at hearing the words that seemed to prove his suspicions correct - he belonged to the prince.

"Irvine," Seifer growled out. "You know very well that this is my own money I'm spending. Don't cause more trouble than you're worth."

"Hmm, and just who was the one to ensure this troupe would return today? And your mother certainly wasn't pleased with you running off this morning without a mention of why. By the by, she wishes to have a talk with you later. More so, you even forgot to take along the payment for our fair dancer with you."

"Alright, alright. I owe you. Happy?"

As they passed through the main entrance, Squall looked half-heartedly at the grinning man who seemed completely at ease with the blonde's threatening aura. Slowly it came to mind that Irvine was the name of another prince in the same family. Even after a close examination, the dancer couldn't see anything that could claim these two men as brothers.

"Take your nymph to his room. Judging by his looks and the stain on your shirt, I think a visit by Kiros is in order. I'll fetch him."

After a grunt of thanks from Seifer, they parted ways in opposite directions. Squall remained quiet as they traveled upstairs, every now and again taking deep breaths in the attempt to drive away the nausea that continually threatened to peak. In time Seifer managed to open a door that lead into a large room that reminded the dancer of the prince's quarters, but a mirror image with slightly different furniture.

He was carried directly to a large bed, and Seifer carefully placed him on the cool sheets before stepping back. Green eyes examined the thin form in the bright light of open windows, worry clear in his expression.

"I... I'm going to change my clothes, and then bring you some water. Kiros should be here by that point."

"Wait. I need... in case..." Squall eyed the sheets he was sitting on, wondering how much further in debt he would go if he ruined the soft fabric.

"Ah, of course." The man left the room briefly before returning with a water basin that was placed on the small nightstand. "I won't be long. Try to get comfortable."

Confused, he watched as Seifer went to a shadowed corner of the room instead of the bedroom entrance. A hanging rug was pulled aside and a hidden door opened without a creak, the bare view around the blonde's body enough to tell Squall that this room was connected directly to Seifer's bedroom. With the sound of the closed door, the dancer had the immediate instinct to escape these chambers and castle, but he knew this day was worse than most and he'd be lucky to reach the door before someone noticed him. And in the chance that this 'Kiros' was a healer, perhaps he could find relief from the illness that might be slowly killing him. Closing his eyes with the decision to stay made, Squall let himself rest briefly against the headboard while assuring himself that he didn't trust the blonde prince. He was only too tired to care at the moment.

A short while later, the sound of an opening door forced the dancer back into awareness, blue-gray eyes widening fractionally at the sight of Seifer's changed clothing of a loose black shirt and dark parts. His green eyes were bright in contrast to the material, and a smirk never too far from his pale lips.

He sat on the edge of the bed opposite of Squall, then held out a glass of water. "Here."

The dancer took the glass with a quiet thanks, and then drank deeply until most of the warm liquid was gone. Feeling partly refreshed and the nausea momentarily driven away, he silently eyed the prince, recognizing the effort the man was making to keep distance between them. It bewildered Squall how the man could still be obsessing over him, his body much too thin and his illness possibly dangerous. And it wasn't like the prince hadn't already gotten what he desired most.

Abruptly there was sharp knocking from the outer room, a door opening without a call to enter. Three men soon walked into the bedroom, Squall only recognizing the one named Irvine. The second longhaired man held back while a darkly skinned man approached the bed and sat next to the dancer.

Seifer spoke, pointing to each man in turn. "Squall, let me introduce you to Kiros, the head healer of the castle. The man next to Irvine is Laguna, our magus."

An elegant but firm hand grasped Squall's chin, angling his face better into the light. "I've only heard that you're ill. Care to describe your symptoms with a little more detail for me?"

Looking deep into the black eyes, the dancer found calming strength and wisdom there. Something he could find reluctant trust in. "Almost daily nausea for over a month now. Weakness. And I've been sleeping too much."

Releasing his hold, Kiros smiled softly. "Next you'll be telling me your chest hurts."

"I guess, I little."

Blinking once, the dark man straightened. "Do you mean you're having difficulty breathing?"

"No..." He looked to the side to avoid the gazes of the other men. "My nipples have darkened somewhat, as well."

After a tense silence, Kiros slowly turned to face the magus. "Laguna. What did you feed this boy?"

"Eh? Ah, that's right. This is the one the love potion was used for those months back. It was nothing complex. An old elven concoction, in fact."

"And what are the side effects, exactly?"

"Nothing more serious than a possible headache for humans, making it a lovely potion to use for such situations." The grin was far too innocent for the matter at hand.

"And what do you mean, 'for humans'?" The healer's tone had grown with faint frustration.

"Well, like I said, it's an old elven recipe meant... for... oh dear..." Straight away he started to search through various hidden pockets of his robes, mumbling under his breath. Finally he found what he was looking for - a small crystalline sphere set upon a metal base - and then hurried to the dancer's side. "Do me favor, and see this small needle at the top here? I need a drop of blood from you, so if you'd just press a finger lightly there..."

Uncertainty was foremost in Squall's thoughts, but a brief glance at the healer who gave an assuring nod persuaded him to follow the directions. Instantly the ball turned pale green.

"Oh dear..." Laguna stated, biting his lower lip.

"Damn it!" Seifer growled out. "Would one of you two tell us what the hell is happening here?"

"If my guess is right, it seems your... guest here is pregnant," Kiros said in a nonchalant tone.

"What the... Kiros, in case you haven't noticed, Squall can't be pregnant."

The magus corrected him. "No, no. I'm ashamed to say it's true. I never considered the chance you'd find a person of mixed blood."

Green eyes narrowed dangerously at the man, silently demanding an explanation.

"As I mentioned, it's an elven design. Some hundreds of years ago, their numbers were dangerously low and, well, if both men and women can be impregnated... Anyway, in humans, it only has a type of aphrodisiac effect between interested partners. The best potion to use, especially for shy lovers. But apparently our boy here is a rather rare mix of human and elven blood. At least five or six generations past, so it isn't physically visible. But I must say that such dilute blood shouldn't have made such a large difference, I mean, for pure bloods it's a slim chance--"

"You're rambling," Kiros interrupted.

"Ah, yes. Well, it appears you're going to be a father, young wolf." The magus was beaming at the blonde as if nothing was odd with the statement.

While Seifer stared in a daze, the thus far silent dancer asked, "How do I get rid of it?"

"Oh, no, dear boy," Laguna said sadly. "That's certain not an option. This child exists through mostly magic, which means the unborn one is using your life energy to eventually form his or her own. To abort it could mean death for you. At best, your life shorten to a mere fraction of what it should be."

"Then, I have to..."

The magus sighed. "I'm so ashamed of this mistake. Elven partners understand the risks before such measures are taken for children."

"Laguna. Kiros. Leave us for now." Though the prince's words were soft, the underlining command was clear.

"Ah, right then. Kiros and I will do research tonight about this. Don't worry. It'll all turn out fine."

Shaking his head, the darkly skinned man patted the dancer's knee. "For now, eat and rest. Perhaps we'll find something in the books."

Stormy eyes lowered, Squall easily hearing the hidden doubt in the words. His mind was reeling at the moment, and with disbelief and anger fighting for domination, the brunette was left feeling numb at the sudden and certainly unexpected news.

While the two men left, Seifer turned to his half-brother. "If you would, tell Father and Mother I'll need a word with them tonight. And have someone send dinner to this room."

Smiling faintly, Irvine nodded and turned for the outer room before calling over his shoulder, "Take care of him, pup."

With the sound of a closed door, the large blonde sighed loudly and lied down heavily on the bed, causing Squall to jump at the sudden move and the man's closeness. The green eyes were focused on the canopy above while Seifer spoke. "I'm not going to apologize for any of this. The only thing I regret about that night is how I thought I had to trick you, but maybe fate works in mysterious ways. While you seem to have little choice in the matter, I want you to have this child."

Squall glared at the prone man. "This doesn't bother you in the least?"

"That you don't want the child, yes. But I'm hardly one to talk when you're the one carrying."

"I never wanted this," he whispered harshly.

"You don't have much choice at the moment, do you?" When no reply was given, Seifer continued. "You hate the debt you now owe me, correct?"

"... You paid too much."

The prince smirked. "In any case, you think you owe me, so let's deal. Tomorrow is my birthing day. In one year you are free to walk away from this place, your debt paid in full with the birth of my heir. Of course, the child will be left here with me. Until then, I'll take care of you and our child once born."

Squall scoffed. "And what other services must I do to pay off that fortune?"

"Nothing, aside from letting me take care of you."

"... ..." It was too easy, in a way. As if he was using the child as a substitute for his slavery, but he assumed one of partial royal blood wouldn't be used in that way. Especially with the stubborn blonde as his father. But to survive pregnancy and birth... Squall wasn't sure if he could live through that, forget a year trapped within easy reach of the prince. Then again, there clearly weren't any other choices available to him, especially considering the care he would most likely need to survive. "Do you really think you can just let me go?"

"If it pains you to be near me..."

Going against every logical thought in his mind, Squall decided to trust the man, but only as far as the verbal contract. "One year, then."

~<>~

Squall woke up, immediately frowning at the realization that he had fallen asleep on the couch of the entry room. Fingering the thin blanket covering him, he decided that he must have drifted off when the sorcerer spoke to him and Seifer that morning. As Laguna had thought the day previous, there wasn't a method to safely abort the growing child, especially considering Squall was already over two months deep into the pregnancy. The brunette had clearly seen the prince smirk at that bit of news.

The longhaired magus had then continued to briefly explain the pregnancy, detailing that the lack of energy was common for the first three months or so, with the child's life energy being formed off the base of the bearer's life force. After would follow a few months of physical discomfort, some severe, as his body would adjust to support the child, and then the final months with the primary growth of the baby. Considering he couldn't remember anything of the lecture beyond that, Squall concluded he must have gone to sleep then despite Seifer sitting right next to him on the couch. Massaging the bridge of his nose, the dancer wondered how much of a fool he was to do that.

Squall's thoughts were broken by the sound of loud rapping followed quickly by a muffled, scolding tone from beyond the closed door. Confused, he called for whomever it was to enter.

The door opened wide, a rather petite blonde woman walking in and Seifer close behind her, his hands occupied by a large tray of food and a pitcher. Squall eyed the stranger, the youthful woman looking unearthly as long golden hair flowed behind her while she walked with a dancer's grace. The brunette straightened when the seemly stern woman approached him directly, a soft hand placed gently on his cheek. Piercing crystalline eyes examined his face thoroughly before her expression softened with a simple smile.

"Absolutely gorgeous. I can see why my foolish son fell for you."

Stormy eyes narrowed in confusion. "You aren't old enough to be his mother..." he said unintentionally.

Her smile widened with a melodic chuckle. "A charmer as well. He certainly doesn't deserve you."

"Mother--"

Light blue eyes hardened instantly, her tone firm as she addressed Seifer. "You aren't allowed to speak yet, child. I'm still furious with you, and don't you dare forget it."

For the first time Squall witnessed the blonde looking rather sheepish as he sat on a cushioned seat in silence. His attention returning the woman, the dancer suddenly realized what being Seifer's mother meant. He bowed his head and clutched at the sheet still covering his legs. "Forgive me, my queen, for being disrespectful."

Tapping a finger under his chin, she forced him to look up. "None of that. The one carrying my grandchild shouldn't be so formal. Please call me by name - Aurel."

"... ..." Despite the sincerity in her eyes, Squall doubted he could ever bring himself to call the queen of a country by name. But at least he now knew where the prince got the idea that the slave could simply call a man of royalty 'Seifer' without worry.

Her gentle smile returned, the woman sat next to the dancer on the couch, her hand resting on the man's leg. "I've heard everything important about this situation including your arrangement with Seifer. While I can't condone such an agreement, I understand your anger at this unusual occurrence. Just, you do realize that you won't have to leave in one year. This is your child as much as Seifer's."

"... ..."

She sighed quietly. "Very well. For now, know that we will take care of you. No need to worry about that."

"No offense, my queen, but I'm not some woman to be pampered."

Her eyes widened slightly in amusement. "No, you certainly aren't. But," she held up a warning finger, "I know a thing or two more about being pregnant than you, my dear. Whether you want it or not, you'll need help."

Squall frowned at the idea.

There was a deep chuckle. "Give up, Squall. She'll win eventually, so don't make the process anymore painful."

With an overly sweet smile, Aurel leaned back to promptly smack Seifer in the ear. "Don't you think I've forgotten that this is all your fault. This poor boy only did what he thought he had to in order appease an idiot with royal blood. And if I see for one moment that you aren't worshipping the ground he walks on, I will personally make your life hell."

"I know, I know. And, damnit, that actually hurt, woman."

"Be glad I don't have my dagger on hand, child. I could do much worse."

Against his better sense, Squall chuckled at the interaction, ineffectually covering up the sound with some coughs. The two blondes turned at the sound, both eventually smiling with a similar curl of lips. But before anyone commented on the crack in composure, there was a knock at the door.

"Ah, he's earlier than I thought. Come in!" the woman called.

Squall scowled at the sight of a small group of people carrying armfuls of cloth.

Aurel patted his leg. "Up, up. The sooner this is over, the sooner you can enjoy some lunch."

Before the dancer could question her, she rose to greet the best dressed man of the small group, both speaking happily in a foreign language. When she turned and waved a hand in his direction, Squall resisted a flinch at the awed and pleased tone that the stranger spoke in. Reluctantly he faced Seifer in search of help.

"Don't worry. Henri isn't dangerous. He just takes a little getting used to, but at least his clothes are always perfect."

"Clothes? I don't need--"

Seifer laughed. "What, you're going to wear those clothes for the next year? You forget, I whisked you away while most of your possessions were left behind."

"But this is too much for me."

"Nonsense," Aurel chimed in. "While you are temporarily part of our family, you have as much of an appearance to maintain as the rest of us. And trust me, you'll appreciate this quality fabric when your skin gets annoyingly sensitive to anything less."

Not liking the words he heard, Squall quickly rose from the couch and walked into the bedroom without a reply to the questions about his retreat. He wasn't surprised that he was followed, sensing the prince standing quietly at the doorway.

"I refuse to be... displayed for your benefit."

"It would be for your benefit as well, you know. People need to see with their own eyes that you are important to me, that any action against you would result in immediate punishment of my choosing."

Squall turned and glared at the prince. "And why exactly am I 'important' to you?"

"You're the last man I'll ever love," he replied without missing a beat.

The scowl deepened. "Love doesn't exist."

Seifer straightened at the words. "You actually believe that," he said softly, then shook his head. "Well, you certainly aren't my slave or whore or whatever else is running through that dense mind of yours. You are my equal and nothing less."

"Give me one reason to believe you, my prince."

Seifer grinned wryly. "My loving mother wouldn't hesitate to use that knife of hers on me if I thought anything else."

"Don't mock me."

"He isn't, dear." Both men turned, a bit startled by Aurel's unheard entrance. "Sorry to interrupt, but Henri is getting a bit impatient. You both can argue to your hearts' desire when you aren't taking up someone's time. Not too mention that the food shouldn't be left out forever. And I must insist that every bite be eaten. It's not healthy to be so thin." Turning with a wave of gold, she returned to the outer room as if certain her implied order would be followed without question.

"Does... she do that often?"

"What, take control of any situation she wishes and expect no one to deny her word? Daily. Father just thinks it's adorable." He motioned Squall forward. "Come along. You need these clothes. On my honor, there's no deeper meaning than that."

"... Fine."

---------------------------

The white mare was being pushed to her limits along the forest path, and still Seifer wished the animal would move faster. Sharp green eyes scanned the scenery as it blurred past, keeping close watch for the bothersome brunette. Nearly two months Squall had taken residence in the castle, and he was stubborn as ever. These unannounced walks away from the safety of stone walls and guards were high on the prince's list of why he should chain the dancer to his bed.

Angry mutterings from the blonde halted abruptly when he spotted a figure to the side of the worn path, it taking a while longer to slow the horse and return to the open area of forest. Hot jealousy raged in Seifer, finding the dancer sitting on a fallen tree and a woman held loosely in his arms. His sneer deepened at the realization that she was even wearing Squall's coat, the blonde woman pressed tightly against his dancer. Resisting a growl, he jumped off his mare with the intention to tear the woman away from what was his.

"Seifer..." The barely hidden relief in the brunette's voice was enough to make the prince pause.

"Seifer?" The woman straightened then, turning light blue eyes redden from tears in the direction of the prince. "Seifer, thank the gods."

"Quisty?" At her name, the blonde woman got up from the log and rushed into Seifer, burying her face in his chest. The short distance was enough time for the prince to notice the torn dress barely held in place by a shaky hand. "What happened, Quisty? One of your guards made it to the castle, only speaking of an attack. Irvine has everyone looking for you now."

She shook her head, fresh tears running down her cheek.

Squeezing her shoulder for comfort, Seifer then looked up at Squall in question. The dancer had one arm hugged tight around him, but his expression was otherwise unreadable. Without looking in the direction, he nodded to the side of the small clearing. Green eyes shifted that way, for the first time noticing two fallen bodies. Though one was partially hidden from view, Seifer clearly recognized the hilt of a small knife that stuck out from the other's neck. Smiling vaguely, the prince took a breath of relief at the proof that Squall was carrying the throwing knives Seifer had given him. Knowing he couldn't prevent the brunette from wandering off, Seifer wanted at least for the man to be able to protect himself in case of danger.

The prince turned at the sound of hooves, holding the woman close when she cringed against him. At the sight of the familiar stallion, Seifer relaxed immediately. "About time you caught up. I've already found your missing bride."

Quistis looked up at that, wiping away still flowing tears with her free hand. "Irvine..."

The longhaired prince jumped off his horse before it had stopped, the woman soon sheltered in his arms. "Gods, I had feared the worst."

"They tried... they tried to... so scared..." she sobbed.

"Shhh, it's all right. Don't speak of it until you're ready. We'll get you home safe."

She thanked him quietly, letting Irvine lead her to his horse and help her mount the animal before pulling himself up behind her. "We should go quickly, Seifer. No knowing what dangers there are at the moment."

Nodding once, the blonde man turned to the dancer. "We're off, Squall."

He frowned. "I'm not riding that beast."

With a sigh, Seifer surrendered to the argument he knew he couldn't win. While removing his coat, he walked up to Squall and placed the heavy material around the narrow shoulders. The blonde smiled when the dancer clutched the piece of clothing tight around him instead of the typical scowl the prince would get in return for such an action. Deciding to be dangerous, Seifer placed an arm around the hidden waist to lead the dancer forward. Squall didn't refuse the touch, letting the blonde guide him while gray eyes grew vacant in thought.

It was slow going to the castle, Irvine forcing his horse to maintain a slow pace while Seifer and Squall walked, the prince's mare walking tiredly behind them. Eventually regaining her calm, Quistis was able to give a vague account of the attack on her small group, herself escaping at the very beginning. The two men had trailed her, finally capturing her at that spot in the forest. Before she had understood what was happening, her dress was torn down the middle and hands all over her. Sometime afterward, her attackers had fallen with barely a sound.

"The sight of a new man frightened me even more, especially after he so easily killed those men. But he... Squall, was it?... he only tossed me his coat and told me help should be there soon. Ashamed to say I completely fell apart at that point," Quistis said with a forced laugh.

Seifer looked at the man still held in his hold. "And how did you know help would come?"

He shrugged. "You always find me before lunch."

"Reckless fool."

"Forgive my rudeness," Quistis interrupted, "but may I ask who exactly you are?"

"He's the man carrying my child."

"Seifer!" Squall said in part horror.

"It's fine, my lovely nymph. She about to be family soon, and you know I keep nothing from family."

"You... you must be joking me. Like in the old days."

Seifer laughed. "Oh, there will be plenty of that to come, Quisty. But this is the truth, with Squall being the fortunate man of fate to be fed the wrong potion."

"Unfortunate," the dancer muttered in correction.

"That just depends who's speaking, now doesn't it."

"I don't understand," Quistis said in a wary tone, unconvinced that the large man wasn't teasing her.

Irvine spoke before his brother could. "I'll explain it to you once everything has settled some."

They reached the castle in short time, horses sent to the stables to be taken care off. Barely a step into the main hall and the golden haired queen was upon the small group in a nervous flutter. She examined the young woman first, and once certain there was no serious damage done, she quickly called for a servant to lead Quistis to her rooms so she could change out of the embarrassingly torn clothing. Once the woman was out of view, Aurel turned and slapped her son at the back of his head.

"Shit, woman!"

She promptly smacked him again. "No cursing in front of the baby. And how dare you let this boy roam around without guard? Do you know how worried I was?"

"'Let' is hardly the word to use," he stated while rubbing his head.

Hard crystalline eyes shifted to Squall. "And you. Don't you realize you could've been killed out there?"

He shrugged.

"Ah, men! I'm surrounded by them and not a good one in the lot. If I die of worry, I hope you feel just a bit of shame at your actions."

"I'm certain you'll out live us all, Mother. Now, if you don't mind, I think Squall will need a nap after all of this."

The dancer frowned at the reference of being frail, but he remained silent, most likely seeing the possibility of escape with the excuse.

"Oh. Of course. I'm sorry, dear. Though I must insist that you join us for dinner tonight. I'm certain James will want to hear your version of what happened. Bandits so close to the castle... it might not be a coincidence."

Before Squall could refuse, Seifer turned him to the hallway that would lead to their rooms. "He'll be there even if I have to carry him."

"Thank you, child."

Walking slowly through the dimly lit corridors, Seifer couldn't hold back a foolish grin. His arm was still hanging comfortably around the dancer's waist, the touch not yet declared unwanted. While that should have peaked his curiosity, it was when Squall started to lean against the larger man that Seifer began to worry.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just tired all of the sudden."

"Oh? Need a nap after all?"

"Don't patronize me."

"But it's what I do best."

Squall scoffed in reply, but left it there as he let the blonde lead him to his chambers. There was only a mumbled argument when Seifer continued further to gently push the dancer onto the bed, forcing him to lie down. In the time it took to remove his shoes and get a thin blanket for the man, Seifer found the dancer fast asleep. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he dared placing a hand on the slight rise of midsection. When only a shiver of skin came and went at his touch, the prince rubbed softly at the area under the barrier of clothes. He smiled sadly at the feel of life, knowing Squall might never allow this kind of touch willingly.

Abruptly Seifer stood, quickly placing the blanket over the dancer to hide what wasn't really his. With a whisper of sweet dreams, he quietly left the room to find something to better occupy his mind.

~<>~

That night Seifer woke suddenly, eyes snapping open to quickly scan the room lit rather brightly by moonlight from scattered windows. Slowly he pushed up on one elbow, the sense of being watched strongly felt. It was a deep breath that verified someone's presence, but locating the source of the sound, Seifer quickly recognized the lack of danger the intruder presented.

Quietly he got out of bed and padded over to the doorway between the two bedrooms. Sitting against the frame, thus propping the door open, was Squall, asleep in what Seifer decided was a painful position. Squatting down, he reached out for a shoulder and gently shook the brunette awake.

"Hey, it's not good for you to sleep like that."

The haziness slowly leaving his eyes, Squall frowned. "I fell asleep?"

Seifer chuckled lightly. "Did you need me for something? You could have just kicked me awake."

Awareness hit the dancer suddenly, a hand moving quickly to cover his stomach. "No. No, I just... ..."

"I dare you to come up with a decent lie to explain why you're snoring in my room."

Squall glared icily in reply, then pushed himself off the floor to stand shakily. However, before he could move back into his own chambers, the dancer cried out painfully, suddenly dropping to his knees. Seifer was immediately at his side, trying his best to look for an obvious cause of injury.

"Squall, what is it? What's wrong?"

"... it's... killing me... it's kill..." The words stopped with heavy breaths and intermediate groans of pain.

Seifer whispered a curse before deciding to take the risk and carry the fallen dancer to the closest bed. A dangerous shame it was the prince's bed. Placing the quaking man onto the mattress without too much effort, Seifer was caught off guard when slim arms wrapped around his neck and held him close.

"...it hurts, don't go, hurts so much..." Squall whispered harshly into his ear.

Uncertain with the situation, the blonde placed his hands at the dancer's back and tried to rub soothingly. "Shhh, it'll be fine. Let me go get Kiros for you."

Hands clutched at the skin on his back, nails felt despite the nightshirt barrier. "...don't go, don't go, don't go..."

"All right, I won't go anywhere. Just try to relax, Squall. Try to calm down."

They stayed like that for too long in Seifer's mind, the prince counting every second Squall could be approaching death because he didn't get the healer fast enough. The worry was too strong for him to even briefly consider what it meant that the dancer was holding him close, unwilling to let Seifer go. But eventually Squall calmed within their desperate hold, his breathing returning to some kind of normalcy. Gently the blonde pushed him back onto the messed sheets, then pried the arms from around his neck.

"Squall, I'm going to go get Kiros. I promise to hurry back."

He nodded sharply, his eyes closed tight as if to fend off the pain.

Seifer ran from his chambers, bare feet echoing loudly in the dark corridors of the castle. All the way he cursed the fact Kiros slept closer to his parent's bed chambers, ignoring the detail that it was important for the healer to be near the king and queen. Reaching the locked door, he pounded at the wood, not even pausing for a chance to hear a reply from within.

"What the... Seifer?"

The prince turned at his name, momentarily confused at seeing Kiros behind him, peering out from the doorway across the hall. He almost questioned the man before remembering it was the magus who slept in those rooms. Anyhow, the dancer was foremost in his mind. "Squall is in severe pain. I don't know why."

The healer straightened from his slack stance. "Gods, it's weeks before we expected," he muttered before going back into the room, returning shortly with a small jar in hand. "Let's go, boy."

They jogged back to the prince's chambers, the healer forcing Seifer to calm his worried panic. Once entering his rooms, the blonde rushed into his bedroom after hearing the loud groans from Squall. He knelt to the side of the bed, and brushed aside locks of dark hair from the sweaty forehead.

"It's fine now, Squall. Kiros has something to help you."

Blue-gray looked up at the prince with fear, tears flowing from the watery eyes.

The healer approached then, sitting on the edge of the mattress. "Seifer, lift his shirt for me, and then get a leather glove." Once the blonde did as told, Kiros removed the covering of the jar he held. "Now put on the glove and scoop out some of this cream to spread on his stomach, but don't use any pressure."

"Why don't you do this?"

"Because, dear pup, you'll have to do this on your own for the next few weeks or so. You can't come running for me every time this happens."

"Weeks?"

"Do you want to help this boy or talk?"

Green eyes shifted to Squall's face, the dancer biting his lip in the vain attempt to stop making noises. After quickly putting the glove on, Seifer took a hold of the jar and hooked fingers inside to scoop out some of the pinkish cream. He lightly touched the exposed skin, causing Squall to cry out quietly. A dark hand grabbed Seifer's wrist before he could pull back.

"The pain is unavoidable. The faster you spread it on, the sooner the pain will dampen."

Swallowing loudly, Seifer nodded before placing the cream onto sweat moistened skin, Kiros critiquing when needed about too much pressure being applied. Agonizing minutes later, Squall's body became relaxed as the pain was driven away. The blonde continued to rub gently until certain all of the cream was gone, and then sat back onto the ground, the relief of lifted stress leaving him exhausted.

"Fuck, what the hell was that all about anyway?"

"As Laguna told you both, there is pain involved with such a pregnancy. The male body isn't made to carry a child, so the body must adjust to accommodate the growing baby. I'm just thankful we thought to have some salve on hand even though we hadn't expected this for a couple more weeks at the soonest."

"So, what, just spread some of that stuff on every night?"

"No, I'm afraid not. This cream serves to loosen muscle and numb out pain. To use it regularly without reason is too dangerous for both the boy and your child. It's also why you should wear a glove while rubbing in the salve."

At the words, Squall laughed bitterly.

Seifer had to agree with the sentiment. "Then I have to fucking wait for him to be yelling out in pain?"

"When the pain begins, yes, you can use the salve. No need to wait for it to get so bad, though."

"It started off bad, damn it!"

Kiros sighed, undaunted by the prince's anger. "Hopefully it won't last too long. Perhaps a month or so. And it shouldn't occur every day, maybe a few times a week. He's strong enough to live through it. Oh, and he shouldn't move directly after receiving the cream. The boy might injure himself without realizing it."

"... Anything else, Kiros?" Seifer bit out.

"Not at the moment. I'll make more the salve tomorrow so that you'll always have some on hand."

"Fine. Then please get the fuck out."

The dark man nodded quietly, rising from the bed unhurriedly. "I'll inform the queen of everything in the morning, so no need to wake earlier than you wish tomorrow."

While the healer left, Seifer pushed himself up from the floor, and then placed the jar and leather glove onto the nightstand. For a strained moment he looked down at the prone dancer, wondering just what was going through the man's mind. "Since you shouldn't move, I'll just use your bed for tonight. If the pain returns, yell for me. I'll prop open the door, so I should be able to hear you well enough."

"Or you could stay," Squall offered in a quiet voice.

"I don't think you mean that."

"I've been thinking..." After a short pause, he sighed and then smiled weakly. "You wouldn't take advantage of a pregnant man, would you?"

"Heh, not too certain about that myself, actually. What's with the sudden bout of trust?"

"I've... Tell me first. Tell me why you think you love me."

Seifer smiled at the dancer's uncertain tone, the man still adamant that there was no such thing as love. Waiting to answer, the prince first moved around the bed and rolled over onto the mattress to lie on his side next to Squall. "Do you remember the tournament last month?"

"Yes. What does that--"

"There was a whole arena filled with people who would've congratulated me for my victory, stroked my ego for being a champion among champions, and all of that crap. Even my parents applauded me for the hard won fight. But I turn to face you and find the person I most wanted to impress scowling at me. 'Go see the healer, you dumb ass,' you told me."

"I never called you that."

"Umm, but it was clear enough in your voice. Anyway, out of all those people, you were probably the only one who noticed my hurt wrist and the gash at my side. Didn't give a shit that I won, but you were angry that I got myself injured. I think at that moment I truly loved you."

"That's it?"

"'That's it?' you ask. My naive nymph, it's everything to me. I can't begin to explain why."

"... I've been having dreams. It helps some to look at you when I can't sleep," he said in a hushed voice, as if embarrassed he was admitting it.

Green eyes widened some at the news that Squall coming into his room was a common thing. He thought it strange how he never woke before this night. "How long?"

"Couple weeks. Maybe longer."

"You know, you could have wakened me if you needed someone to talk to."

"... ..."

"Well, care to describe them to me?"

"This, this thing inside of me... it's a demon, isn't it?"

"What?! No, Squall. No. This is a child. Our child."

He covered his tear stained face with his hands. "The dreams are so real. I see how it devours me from the inside out..."

"Dreams are just that. Just dreams." Seifer took one of the hands in his, placing it on top of the small mound of midsection. "This is the reality. You are helping to create a new life, a child. Well, being my child, I suppose he or she will have a bit of a demonic side, but in personality only. And since elves have done this plenty enough in the place, you certainly have nothing to worry about."

"Right, nothing but pain to worry about."

Seifer winced at the sarcastic words, then placed his forehead against the dancer's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I wish this could've gone differently, but I still don't regret it. I'm still thankful that you are the one to bear my child. I don't know what I could possibly tell you to make this any better."

It was silent for a time before Squall spoke. "You say you love me."

Seifer squeezed the hand still in his. "I do."

"Then will you still let me go when the time comes?"

"I'll let you go because I love you."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Heh, that's how love is most of the time. Doesn't make a single ounce of rational sense."

Another pause. "You know, I was impressed with the way you fought."

The prince grinned at the words. "No, I didn't know."

"Didn't care for most of the tournament, but when you dueled with blades, it was like you were dancing."

"Oh? Well, I guess some do call it a dance of death." After some silence, Seifer spoke again. "Do you like it? Dancing, I mean."

"I suppose. Mostly when I don't have to, though."

"Then maybe I'll have to trick you into dancing for me again someday."

"... I'm tired, Seifer."

"Not too surprising. Go to sleep and try to get some peaceful rest for once. Don't worry. I'll be here if you need someone."

Eyes gray from shadows looked over at the man, Seifer meeting his gaze. The prince couldn't tell if it was a trick of the moonlight or not, but he was rather certain that he witnessed a rare, vaguely pleased smile of his dancer. By the time Squall was deep asleep, the blonde was still awake, moving his hand to directly feel the rise of stomach. Smiling, he closed his eyes with the resolution to enjoy this while he could. No telling when the dancer might kick him out of bed next.

---------------------------

He walked alone through the hallway, trying to decide if he felt up to making the climb of stairs. It had rained hard that morning, but now the sun was out without a cloud to block the warm rays. Squall figured the scenery from ruined tower must be beautiful at this moment, but it was annoying to walk up the expanse of stairs to reach that view. At the intersection which would lead either his chambers or the tower, the dancer paused and drummed fingers on his mound of stomach which, beyond his imagination, should grow even larger in the next few months according to Kiros and Aurel.

"Already forgot where the prince's bed lies?"

Squall turned at the unexpected voice, not recognizing the man of dark brown hair.

"Heh, looks like you're getting plenty fat off of the prince's wealth. Can he actually handle fucking you like that?"

Stormy eyes narrowed in a threatening glare before he turned, deciding to head for his chambers after all.

The man followed. "He's going to drop you, you know. The mighty general hates sticking to one thing. Even told me himself how that's the reason he loves fighting, since no two battles are the same."

Squall stopped, hands clenched at his sides. "Why tell me?"

"Because, he's going to need a replacement for you. And I was curious what this male bride of his was like, but you're the same as the rest of us, aren't you? A poor kid getting a chance of the high life, even if it means selling your body. Heh, at least our Golden Wolf is worth it, right?"

Whatever the dancer was planning to say or do was interrupted by an odd cry, making him turn around to face the stranger. The sight of the man being held with a knife to his throat was an oddly pleasing one. But blue-gray eyes were then entranced by the look of pure rage on Seifer's face.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Nida?" His tone was deep and flat when he spoke, as if speaking to a dead person.

'Seifer--" The man winced when the knife pressed closer against his skin. "My prince, only to visit you since it's been so long."

"And I told you no more. I gave you enough gold to be five countries away by now."

"I didn't think--" With more pressure, the knife started to draw blood.

"No, you don't think. If I hear that you placed one finger on this man, I swear I won't bother to control myself next time." Lowering the knife, Seifer stepped to the side. "Get running."

Still attempting some pride, Nida bowed slightly in a mocking way and then walked off with a rushed pace.

"Fucking piece of shit, thinking he knows me after a couple of nights."

A shadow of a smile crossed the dancer's lips. "I don't know. Everyone else says the same."

Seifer turned sharply at the words, anger still clear in the green eyes. "And just who is 'everyone else'?"

"There seems to be a new one every week at the least. It's rather boring how they repeat themselves."

Anger drained from the prince's face, replaced with uncertainty. "Shit. Squall, I... they were..."

"Don't bother making excuses for what you did. Do you think I've never seen a sex crazed aristocrat?"

He frowned. "Personally, I think you've seen too many of them."

"... ..." The dancer held his tongue at the idea that he had no choice as a slave, not wanting to get into that line of discussion with the blonde. His ankles and back were starting to ache a bit from just standing around, so time in his rooms sounded like a good option before doing something else. But at a sudden hit of mild pain, Squall flinched and backed into the wall of the hallway.

"What is it? Do you need the salve?"

"No. It's... I don't know what it is. It doesn't hurt much, just feels odd. Stronger than usual."

Seifer blinked at the words before a grin slowly formed on his lips. He leaned in close to the dancer, and then placed a hand against his stomach. When the odd feel happened again within his body, the prince laughed. "Oh gods, I'll bet that's a foot."

"Oh," Squall said, looking confused.

"What, think the little one would just stay still within you?"

"I didn't really think about it..."

Suddenly stormy eyes met green, two breaths stalled at what they could see in the clear depths. Squall watched as the prince moved in slowly, knowing he purposefully did so to give the dancer a chance to refuse. Instead, the brunette closed the bare distance between them, for the first time in months tasting the sharp flavor that was Seifer. The prince pressed his body against Squall, his hand sandwiched between them as the child still moved within its bearer. The kiss deepened further, the dancer wondering exactly how long he must have actually wanted Seifer to make him savor the joining of lips. Eventually, the prince pulled back, the lopsided grin making him look rather foolish.

Squall spoke first. "I don't love you."

There was a deep laugh in reply. "But I certainly love you."

"You don't know me."

"While I may not know the details of your past, I know who you are."

With a sigh, Squall closed his eyes, allowing unknown and strange emotions overwhelm him. "Don't leave me," he whispered.

"I can't," Seifer replied with an equally quiet tone, then stole another kiss from the willing man.

~<>~

It was cold waking up, something wrong with the noises around him. Or rather the lack of sounds was bothering Squall the most. Since about two months previous, he had been sleeping in the prince's bed because of the severe pains that would rack his body, the last episode being a fortnight past. But only in the last week had the dancer dared to enjoy the heat that would wrap around him and the strong hands that could rub away any ache. Even to simply lie awake and listen to the slight snores of the large man would help to soothe unnamed worries that kept Squall from sleep. It was that familiar snore which was missing this morning.

Lifting awkwardly to a partial sitting position, Squall looked over to the other side of the large bed. No one was there, as expected, but a slip of paper was resting on one of the pillows. He took it in hand, gray eyes following the sharper curls of writing than he had seen in the books from the library. Slowly he crumpled the piece of paper into his fist, and looked to the window filled with morning light.

"You said you'd stay..."

Next Part