Enabling

Disclaimer: All characters herein are express property of Square Enix. I do not own them, nor am I making any profit from this story.

It came as no surprise to Albel that a week later approval for the union between he and Vox was sent. As much as he respected Arzei, the man could be swayed when under intense pressure. Intense pressure was surely what Vox had applied in order to get what he wanted.

In the interest of secrecy their union ceremony was to take place that night during the midnight hour. It was much sooner than Albel had anticipated, but the sooner the better he supposed. He was unsure of just how he was to prepare himself, there was no ceremonial garb for him to put on and he cared not about his looks. For hours he paced his quarters, sat at his desk and wrote idle documents, ordered the books on his shelves by size and then reordered them alphabetically by author. He was anxious for midnight.

At a quarter past ten a knock came at his door. Happy for the distraction, Albel got up from his desk and answered the knock. Vox stood in the doorway, a box in one hand. The man waved him aside so that he might enter and Albel shifted out of his way. A moment later he scowled at himself, wondering why Vox assumed he had the right to simply walk into his quarters as if he owned them?

“Wipe that look off your face.” The duke commanded, turning to look at him.

The scowl only deepened.

“Now, I come baring gifts and you show me such animosity? We are to be married this evening, you know. Or have you forgotten?”

“I have not forgotten, I just wonder why you think you have a right to barge into my quarters like they are your own?”

“Because soon enough they will be.”

That came as news to Albel. His shocked look roused some pity in Vox and the man laughed, stepping forward to cup his cheek.

“They will be mine by extension, but I make no claim to any possessions you have. The only thing of yours I wish to possess is your body.”

Albel did not reply. The notion that he would be sharing his possessions with Vox had crossed his mind once or twice, but he had nothing the duke could want so it had not overly concerned him. But Albel would be the first to admit he was territorial. Giving up his personal quarters to Vox concerned him greatly.

“These are my quarters passed on by my father, you can’t have them.”

“You sound like such a child. Did I not just say that I wanted nothing from you other than your body?”

“How can I trust you? I want it written down that you make no claim to my property.”

Vox held is head for a moment, looking as though he had a great headache. “Is there anything else you desire to be written in a prenuptial agreement?”

There had been another thought that had been floating about in Albel’s head for some time. It embarrassed him some, but a bit of embarrassment seemed a small enough sacrifice for future security.

“If, in the future, you and I divorce I want sole custody of my children without revocation of their rights as royal heirs.”

The statement piqued the duke’s interest. He looked more curious than bored, as he had been before. “You’ve been thinking of that for some time, haven’t you?”

“Just promise it.”

Vox waved his hand in dismissal. “We’ll have it written up before the ceremony” then, “Such concern for children we don’t yet have. You’ll be a fine mother.”

The words were like a physical blow. Whether the comment was meant to agitate him or whether there was sincerity in it, he was uncertain. Albel flinched, lip curling into a snarl. There were quite a few things that had entered into his mind to scream at the duke, but, knowing well that his angry retorts would only prove to make himself appear more childish, Albel remained silent.

Vox grinned, pleased by the silence. “Come, take me to your bedchamber so that I may bestow my gift upon you.”

“What is it you plan on bestowing upon me?”

“You will have to wait and see, impatient child. I assume there is a mirror in your bedchamber?”

“Yes.”

“Then guide me.”

Rather than attempt to figure in his mind just what the man was up to, for that would only serve to make his head ache, Albel led the way to his bedroom. Immediately after they had crossed the threshold Vox took his arm and steered him over to the mirror that hung on the wall above his dresser.

“Look at yourself.”

Albel did so. He was always fond of his eyes; they were the same color as his father’s. When he looked in the mirror there were times he thought his father was looking back at him. But Glou had had black hair. Where the mix match of color that was his hair had come from he could only guess. His mother had been a redhead, so he assumed that some relative on one of his parent’s sides had brown or blonde hair.

“What am I looking for?” he asked at length.

“You aren’t looking for anything. I merely want you to appreciate how lovely you are at the moment. In several years you won’t look quite so nice.”

The boy snorted at that. “I’ll always look attractive.”

Vox did not reply. He left Albel’s side for a moment, opening the box he had brought with him.

“I am not one to bestow gifts lightly, so appreciate this.”

A brief wondering of what the hell the man was babbling about flashed through Albel’s mind, but any other thoughts he might have had were silenced when he felt something slipped around his neck. His hands flew to his throat by instinct and he raised his eyes to the mirror to better examine what was being secured around his neck.

“You are royalty now.” Vox said, securing the chain at the back of Albel’s neck. “Every member of the royal family wears a piece of the crown jewels, my signet ring for example or Arzei’s coronet.”

Albel stared at the choker that had been fastened snuggly about his neck. He had never seen so many sparkling jewels in his life. The band, like Arzei’s coronet, was made of gold fashioned in the shape of wheat and at the center sat a large red stone, circled by tiny diamonds.

“I thought the red would suit you.” Vox whispered in Albel’s ear after the boy had stared at the gift mutely.

“I don’t need gifts.” He mumbled softly.

Albel was above giving and receiving gifts; or so he thought. He certainly didn’t need the choker and he never would have wasted money on buying it and he didn’t wear ornamentation of any kind, so there seemed no point in the gift. And yet he felt slightly touched that it had been offered to him. He was being accepted into the royal family; his concern had been that his children would be thought of as royal, not himself.

A thought struck him.

“The wheat is a symbol of Airyglyph and the royal family. If I wear this people will discover our union.”

“I have thought of that as well.” The man said, moving again to the box. This time he came back with a thick collar of iron. It was an ugly thing and Albel could only wonder what it was for.

Vox dangled the collar in front of the boy. “I expect you to wear the choker at all times. You are part of the royal family now and it is your right and my desire that you wear it. However, concealment of your royal identity is necessary. So you will wear this collar over it.”

Albel took the collar from the duke. It was heavy and he did not look forward to having it about his neck.

“What is the point of wearing the choker if it’s just to be covered? It would be simpler, and much more comfortable for me, to wear neither of the two.”

“The point is not to show off who you are, it is to know who you are.”

“I know who I am.”

“Don’t argue with me, Albel.” Agitation had crept into the man’s voice.

“You just can’t explain it, can you? There is no reason for me to wear this other than because you want me too, is there?”

“Everyone in the royal family wears a piece of the crown jewels, as I told you. Even if we do not publicize the union, you are part of the royal family and should adhere to the family rules. That should be reason enough for you to wear the damned choker.”

Letting out a sigh that told how ridiculous he deemed the situation to be, Albel relented and nodded his head once. Getting Vox into a foul mood right before their marriage ceremony was not something he wished to do. Though he was not one to fall prey to superstition, Albel did not wish to curse his marriage by starting off immediately on the wrong foot. There would be plenty of time for them to bicker and curse one another in the future.

The feel of his hair being tugged brought Albel’s attention back from staring intently at himself in the mirror. Vox was unraveling the wraps that bound his hair. First one tail and then the next were loosened, the weight of his hair falling against his back.

“You’ve washed your hair.” Vox observed mildly, lifting a lock to his lips.

Albel shrugged. “I thought it would be nice to show up to my wedding clean.”

The man made a pleased noise. He brushed aside the curtain of hair to lean in and kiss the nape of Albel’s neck.

“I’m going to take you before we leave for the castle.”

A small bit of heat flooded into the boy’s face as the duke’s hands moved from his shoulders, down his arms and over his chest.

“Aren’t we supposed to have sex after the ceremony?” He attempted to sound innocent but was only laughed at.

Letting out a soft chuckle, Vox slipped his hands underneath the thin fabric of Albel’s shirt, finding the boy’s nipples and fondling them into hardness.

“We can have sex after the ceremony if you wish. I want you now, however.”

Taking Albel by the shoulder and guiding him to the bed, the duke swiped the random bits of paper off the covers and pushed the boy down. Albel was all too willing to obey, opening his legs in invitation and carefully pulling his top off, mindful of the expensive gift about his throat.

Vox settled between his legs, untying his sarong and casting it aside. He stared down at the boy, examining him. Albel reached up, securing his metal arm around the man’s shoulder, then raising his flesh fingers to dance across the duke’s lips. Each day he mourned the loss of his ability to feel in his one arm. He moved his fingers across Vox’s lips, down to trace the contour of the man’s jaw and then ghost over his stubby facial hair.

The boy’s hand was pushed aside and a mouth came crashing down upon his, demanding and engulfing. Albel responded to the kiss eagerly, opening his mouth wide and allowing the tongue to slip into his mouth without protest. The man plundered his mouth, lapping at the fleshy walls of his cheeks and then sparring almost angrily with Albel’s tongue, forcing it into submission. Albel moaned into the heated kiss, feeling the whole of his body responding to the man.

Hands were pulling at his leggings, tugging them down his thighs then moving to pull at his gloves.

Vox pulled back momentarily, looking down at Albel hungrily. “I want to take you while you wear this,” he reached down and ran his fingers over the large gem on the choker, “and only this.”

Crimson eyes stared up at the man, glazed over in lust. Albel quickly moved to fulfill the man’s wishes, pulling off first his leggings and then the glove of his right arm. The left glove was more difficult; there was only half a glove, covering from his bicep down to where the artificial limb was fastened into place. It was a royal pain in the ass, or a pain in his royal ass now that he would be married to Vox, to get the damned thing over the gauntlet and off. Still, he managed.

Vox smiled, pleased. He ran his hands down the bare skin of Albel’s arms, moving then to the boy’s thighs and down his legs. He sat up so that he was kneeling between Albel’s thighs and then pulled the boy’s hips towards him. Albel readily wrapped his legs about the man’s waist, feeling the strain of the duke’s erection through tight pants.

After discarding his shirt, Vox loosened his pants to free his stiff cock. He stroked himself several times, letting his eyes wander over Albel’s body before locking his gaze with the boy.

“Where is your lubricant?” He asked hoarsely.

Sitting up slightly, Albel leaned across the side of the bed to his nightstand. Sitting on the surface in plain view was a small bottle of gold oil. He handed it to the duke and leaned back. Vox let out a small, pleased growl as he uncorked the bottle and poured a draught into his palm.

After lubing his cock, Vox spread Albel’s legs and pulled the boy forward so that he could prepare him. Albel bent his legs to his chest, taking in a shaky breath when the man’s oil slicked thumb circled his puckered entrance. A bit of oil was dribbled over his hole and fingers immediately massaged it into his flesh and then pressed eagerly for admittance into his body.

The tip of Vox’s index finger slipped in with nearly no resistance. He swirled his finger about once, pumped it in and out and then wormed a second finger in. Albel was pliant beneath him, body limp and willing, moaning softly each time that a stray touch pressed against his sweet spot. The man scissored his fingers, stretching the boy until he could easily slip a third finger in. He pumped the digits in and out of Albel’s body, deliberately hitting the boy’s prostate with the apex of each thrust of his fingers.

When Vox at last withdrew his fingers and lifted the boy’s legs onto his shoulders, Albel thought in frustration that it was about damn time. The man pressed the tip of his erection at his entrance and then pushed forward. His body gave way quickly, thoroughly prepared and eager to be brought to pleasure.

The duke set a steady tempo, rolling his hips into Albel, gripping the boy’s hips hard enough to bruise. Beneath him, Albel arched, mouth opening in a silent gasp of ecstasy. Vox was in no hurry that evening, maintaining his teasing slow pace until Albel was ready to cry in frustration. Each thrust was so well aimed that it hit that delicious spot inside of the boy that made him shiver in pleasure. He wanted more, and harder and faster.

As if reading his thoughts, Vox leaned down and in a teasing tone whispered to him, “Would you like something?”

A moan escaped his lips and Albel immediately clamped his teeth down on his bottom lip to prevent any further noise.

“You’re a noisy one, aren’t you? I could tell even before I had decided to take you as mine.”

Whether that was meant to be an insult or not, Albel had no notion, nor did he care to analyze the comment at the time. He reached up to grab Vox’s shoulders and forced himself down upon the man’s cock.

“Impatient, aren’t you?” A rough thrust was delivered, hitting just the right spot. “Shall I rough you up a bit?”

“Yes, harder!” It had come out sounding more like a plea, but he had come to terms with how his resolve crumbled during sexual play.

Vox bent to the plea, shifting his grip upon Albel’s hips and tilting them so that he might better attack his sweet spot. He picked up his pace, pounding into the boy’s body, ramming against his prostate mercilessly. Albel dug his fingers into the man’s shoulders, arching his back involuntarily, letting out strangled gasps.

It felt too good to simply lie still; he had to move as well. Albel bucked against the man, forcing himself as far down upon the man’s cock as he could. Vox groaned appreciatively, shutting his eyes and savoring the feeling.

They moved together then, Vox thrusting forward in earnest, Albel meeting his thrusts with vigor. They rode the wave of passion till it crested, crashing down around them in a jumble of heightened emotions and sensations, all interwoven with that wonderful feeling of pure bliss.

Vox came first, filling Albel with his seed and then pulling out, leaving a trail of milky semen in his wake. He then took hold of Albel’s throbbing cock, pumping it until the boy fell over the brink and came. While licking the semen from his fingers, he watched emotions pass across Albel’s face.

For several moments Albel lay panting, appearing to be tired. Then a look of pleased satisfaction softened his features. A minute later his lips hardened into a thin line and his brows furrowed. The moment had passed.

“Up with you, we have an engagement to attend to.”

Letting out a groan of protest, Albel struggled into a sitting position. He sat for a moment, basking in the languid afterglow. It felt oddly nice to be idle when every other moment of his life was spent being active and on task. But he did not get to enjoy the moment for long. Vox handed him his discarded clothing and instructed him to put it on.

Once he was dressed properly the man brushed through his long hair, insisting that he keep it down for the ceremony. Albel did not argue, what cared he whether his hair was down or not? The only reason he tied it back was so that it did not impede him in training and battle. Leaving it down for one night would do no harm.
Before they left his quarters Vox leaned in to kiss him softly. He looked up at the man curiously, but no explanation was offered, just the same teasing grin that the duke always wore.

~~~~~~~~ Upon arriving early to the castle’s chapel, Vox immediately had a scribe write up a prenuptial document, dictating the clauses that Albel had mentioned earlier, adding in a few of his own that Albel consented to. By the time the clocks began to toll midnight the documents were signed and the small party of witnesses was assembled.

Despite the fact that the ceremony was taking place in a chapel, there was no religious leader reading from a thick book of scripture. Vox, being atheist, and Albel, not giving a damn, opted for having the king’s magistrate perform the union. Arzei was in attendance, seeing it as not only his duty as king to oversee such a powerful union, but also a familial duty. Walter also made an appearance, sitting off to the side, looking grave. Albel supposed with a small growl that the old man had come because he thought he had some obligation to Glou Nox to look after his child’s well being. Not that he was a child any longer, he was perfectly capable of making grown up decisions regarding his life, thank you very much.

The actual ceremony was fairly brief, a few readings, exchanging vows, more readings, sealing the union.

It was a dreadful bore, Albel thought. He would never attend another wedding in his life, if he could barely pay attention at his own. His thoughts wandered over many things while the magistrate spoke, but never lingered on a single topic too long. Without thinking he leaned his weight into Vox’s body. They had been forced to hold hands, though Vox had made a great show about not desiring to hold his claw, so the one hand had been placed at his back. By the time he realized that the man was supporting him Albel had come to a thought: he was only going to marry once and he may as well enjoy the moment while he could.

Whereas he did not so much as smile during the entire affair, Albel allowed himself to relax some of the strict rules he had set for himself. Rather than correct his posture once he had realized that he was leaning into Vox he leaned in further, resting his cheek against the man’s shoulder. Vox made no noise, though he saw the man raise an eyebrow. To an onlooker that did not know them they would appear a happy couple.

When they were to kiss Albel let the barest hint of a smile curve his lips before they were claimed. The duke had enough tact not to tongue him in the presence of the king, though Albel thought that it would be quite amusing to see Arzei sputter in embarrassment. Perhaps he would start making out with Vox during one of their military meetings.

With the actual ceremony over, Albel was eager to leave. That was not an option, however. Arzei congratulated them, then warned them once more of possible problems that could arise, reminding them to be mindful of the situation they were in, and then congratulated them once more. The king also noted with a smile the royal ornamentation about Albel’s neck.

Albel scoffed at him and told him he hated the choker and would rather he didn’t wear it. Vox slapped him upside the head.

Not that he truly cared, but Albel noted with a small measure of displeasure that the old man did not appear to be happy at all. With all the prattling the man did about how he wished for Albel to be happy, one would think he would have been throwing confetti. Instead he stared at the couple anxiously, as though he could see some great pitfall they were walking into that they could not spot. Albel would bring it up later, when he felt masochistic enough to visit the old man. He needed to store up his reserves of patience for private meetings with Walter.

Vox lead him away from the chapel, up to the man’s quarters. The duke’s rooms were much larger and better ornamented than his own. Usually Albel would scoff at how many material possessions the man had, but that night he looked at it in a different light. The rooms were cozy and welcoming, they needed nothing, so when he and Vox could at last share quarters nothing would need to be greatly altered. Some space would need to be made for his possessions, but he would take up very little room.

When he lay down in the duke’s bed, after the proper session of consummation, Albel felt an unfamiliar feeling of contentment settle into his heart. It bothered him for a moment as he puzzled over what exactly it was he was feeling, but as soon as he identified the emotion he decided that it was one he could happily become used to. Vox remained awake for some time longer, going over several documents that had to do with the union. When he blew out the candles and joined the boy in bed Albel was deep in sleep.

END

I’m using the name Walter versus Woltar for the pure reason that it makes my spellchecker happy. Usually I write Woltar, but if it has the same meaning I’m not going to bother. This is probably the fluffiest chapter you will see (for now), I mean, we’re talking about Albel and Vox. When Albel was touching his face and Vox kissed him before they left, as soft as it’s probably going to get. I would love to write fluff where Albel is all in love but I’d prefer to stay in character. And I do have a direction for this, believe it or not. Anon, I have the ending all ready, so your ponderings will eventually be answered. And you know, Vox doesn’t look as old in the manga as he does in the official art. He looks young in the game as well. Official art has him all gray, but I swear he’s light blonde in the game (and a brunette in the manga).