It was pure instinct that led Freyr back home. He walked like a re-animated corpse, back slouched slightly and eyes focused on the floor. To onlookers, he might have looked like a vagabond. Some drifter who had gotten in a particularly bloody fight or had simply eviscerated someone. They gawked, some concerned, some scared, others didn't seem to care at all. Still, Freyr marched on, either unaware or uncaring. His mind was blank, accompanied by a strange and constant ringing in his ears. When he reached the door to his house, he stood there for a moment. Slowly, he lifted his head and a bloodied hand reached for the door knocker. Lithe fingers traced the adornment; petals of a rose rubbing against his fingertips. Drawing up some strength, he knocked four times, each one louder than the last. He heard the softest steps on the other side. Two locks later and the door swung open, Kåre on the other side. His eyes widened upon seeing his Master soaked in blood. One hand held onto the door while the other went straight for his mouth held agape.
"Master…?" He managed to say, his expression a mix of horror and concern. What in the world had happened to him? Kåre wanted to pull him and check for injuries, but he hesitated. His eyes looked down, meeting Freyr's empty gaze. Before he could say more, the assassin collapsed on his arms, the full weight of the Nayu falling onto him like dead weight. The Seraphim felt nauseous and his heart began to race. Acting quickly, he kicked the door closed. He hoped his Master would forgive him for such rash action. Laying Freyr down on the ground, he first checked for a pulse. The Seraphim breathed a sigh of relief, feeling his Master's heartbeat against his fingers. Even if it stained his clothes, Kåre picked up the assassin in his arms and carried him all the way to his room and into the bathroom.
There, he sat Freyr down on a chair and began to remove the now ruined clothes from him. Kåre began from his feet up, removing each piece of clothing as carefully as he could. Midway through, Freyr had opened his eyes and thought about continuing on his own. Ultimately, he decided against it, seeing Kåre fetch a shallow basin and turn on the faucet of the bathtub to pour out hot water. With a small towel, he began to clean him. Blood had seeped through the luxurious fabric, staining Freyr's skin in the process. Kåre gently washed away the dried substance with the towel, taking his time with each extremity. Freyr looked down, seeing Kåre kneeling and taking his time to wash him. At first, he didn't really feel anything. In fact, he felt hollow, with his only link to reality and sensation being Kåre's gentle touches. Feeling eyes on him, Kåre dared to look up, seeing that uncharacteristic blank expression on his Master's face. The most horrifying thought crossed his mind, what if one day, Freyr didn't return home? Sighing, Kåre continued, trying to keep himself busy. He washed Freyr as best he could, using the towel and warm water to wipe away as much of the blood from his body as best he could.
"I'm going to get some fresh water and clean your face next." Said Kåre, standing up. As he went to turn, Freyr reached out and grabbed his arm, preventing him from going any further. Confused, Kåre turned around to face him. "Master? What's wrong?"
There wasn't a response at first. Freyr just sat there, staring at him with that same blank look. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself and dragged himself back to reality.
"I need you to do something for me." He paused, taking another deep breath. "Go to my wardrobe. Find something that would fit a… a night with the King. And… hurry."
The thought that he would disappoint the King pulled him out of that strange limbo he had been thrown into. Kåre nodded, and placed the basin and towel away before heading into the room next door. Groaning in pain, Freyr slowly stood up and prepared quick bath to get rid of what blood remained and the strong odor of sweat from the fight. Sinking into the water, he embraced the silence of the room. The heat combined with the rosy smell of the soap he had added in was enough to set an atmosphere where he could truly be at peace. That was abruptly interrupted by Kåre, who, despite his best efforts to be quiet made enough noise to wake him up.
"Master?" He spoke up timidly, making Freyr rise from the water. Wiping his face off with his hands, he sighed and gestured for Kåre to hand over a towel, which he did. Stepping out, he drained the tub before drying himself.
"I picked something out for you. I hope you like it." Kåre's words were met by a cold stare by Freyr, making the poor Seraphim step back. Putting his hands together, he lowered his head and began to fiddle with his fingers.
"Are you upset with me, Master? Did I do something wrong?"
As he was about to step out, Freyr turned him realizing what he'd done. "What? No. I…" He paused. Kåre wasn't the problem It wasn't his fault. "...I'm just tired. You're doing a great job."
His response drew a smile out of Kåre and his anxiety seemed to fade away. Following him, Freyr went for his bed, pulling back the covers and jumping in. Taking the towel, Kåre glanced at it a little confused.
"I thought you were going out tonight." Kåre said, neatly folding the wet towel. The assassin groaned as he turned away to the side. Sighing, he nodded.
"Yeah. I do." Pausing, he glanced at the clock by his closet. He had about two hours before his little date with the King. Shit. Enough time for some rest, he supposed. Turning to Kåre, he reached out to grab his arm. "Listen to me very carefully. You will wake me in exactly one hour, do you understand me?"
"Yes, Master." Said Kåre with an affirming nod and a little bow.
"No. I asked if you understood." Freyr countered, glaring at him.
That look made the Seraphim tense up. "I-I understand, Master."
"Good. Now, off you go. Take the rest of the day off. Read a book."
Releasing him, Freyr turned on his stomach and gripped the pillow below him. Sighing as he heard Kåre step out of his room, slowly closing the door. As sleep began to take over, he wondered if he was sometimes being too harsh on him. His father's voice echoed in his head, saying the same thing he had told Kåre just now. Was he turning into that bastard? Maybe…
At some point, before the hour passed Freyr was awakened by incessant whispering. As he opened his eyes, he was overwhelmed by a feeling of bloodlust. Pulling back the covers, he smiled as he got out of bed and reached for his robes. Reaching for a drawer in his night table, he pulled out a dagger and slowly made his way out of the room. The whispering got louder as he approached the living room, his smile growing wider as the anticipation grew. His grip on the dagger got stronger as he approached the library, opening the door to see Kåre peacefully reading a book in front of a desk. Seeing him, he smiled and got up.
"Master, you're up early what's-" Kåre trailed off, slightly disturbed by the sight of Freyr with that grin in his face, the wide eyes and the knife in his hand. Pulling the chair back, the Seraphim carefully approached him. "W-what's wrong? Are you okay?"
"I will be…" Freyr said, pausing only briefly before he lunged at Kåre with the knife. The Seraphim only had a split second warning before he was attacked. He shrieked, shouting "No!" before he was repeatedly stabbed by Freyr. The assassin cackled as he heard the Seraphim's screams and pleas for mercy, relishing in the noise of flesh being torn apart as he pinned Kåre against a wall and plunged a knife into his torso. Panting, he stepped away once he was satisfied. Looking down, he saw Kåre slide to the floor. Still alive, he held on to his bloodied torso, his trousers stained both red and yellow. He trembled, drowning in his own blood. Glancing up at his Master's grinning face, he began to sob, choking as he did.
"W-why?" was the last thing Kåre managed to murmur before he finally passed out, expiring not too long after.
That grizzly scene became etched in Freyr's memory as he woke up screaming. The first thing he did was check his hands as Kåre barged into the room, running to him. Near tears, he went to comfort Freyr who was hyperventilating. Not knowing what to do exactly, he went for a hug.
"I thought… I thought I had killed you." Freyr said, wrapping his arms around Kåre. The Seraphim didn't know what he was talking about, nor did he want to know. All he wanted to do now was comfort him. Likely, this had been one of his nightmares.
"It's all right, Master. I know you'd never hurt me. It was just a dream." Kåre reassured him, hugging him tighter. "Just a dream." He reassured him further, petting his hair. The two of them stayed like that for a moment. Kåre expected a stronger response from Freyr, but received nothing other than an embrace. It was probably what he needed and what he wanted, anyway. After a moment or two in each others arms, Freyr sniffled as they parted. He took a deep breath, and slowly climbed out of bed, sitting at the edge of it. Kåre joined him, glancing at him as Freyr did his best to suppress the urge to cry. Everything was seemingly piling up in his head. A heavy weight on his shoulders that was starting to slowly weigh him down. From the King's request, to being kicked out of the party to the ambush. He was angry at it all but he had managed to suppress it until now. Losing control over his own emotions, he burst into tears. Covering his face, he sobbed loudly as Kåre watched, unsure of what to do. He had never really seen him like this before. Acting quickly, he reached around Freyr's naked shoulder and slowly pulled him in. The assassin seemed to go along with it, laying his head against Kåre's lap. Reaching down, Kåre petted his hair, seeing Freyr curl up and wrap his arms around his legs. Part of him felt honored that Freyr would trust him enough to show this side of him. The other was concerned about the future. Would this get better or worse?
It was several minutes before Freyr finally stopped crying and was able to compose himself to get dressed. He washed his face and applied to some makeup to hide the sunken eyes. Sitting in front of a mirror, he smoked a cigarette while practicing different smiles and expressions in front of it. He rehearsed a smirk, practiced his laugh and even said a few lines in a sultry and sexy tone. The cigarettes he was smoking had a mixture of plants from his own garden that made him feel better. Over time, he had grown a tolerance for the plants, but they were still enough to get him aroused and happy, which was what he needed to get through this. Standing up, he put out the fag and went to get dressed. Freyr put on a black sleeveless top, that was short enough to expose his stomach. He also wore a pair of short black pants, that reached up slightly above the waist and down to his mid thigh. He finished his look off with a pair of black boots that reached up almost to his knees along with a purple coat with a feathered rim.
"You look like a whore, Freyr…" The assassin said as he stood in front of a mirror. Narrowing his eyes, he turned his head to see Kåre standing in the hallway close to his bedroom door.
"I think you look pretty, Master." Kåre said, with a smile that left Freyr with no room to argue. With him, he brought a small box filled with prepared cigarettes to keep him going through the night. "Here you go Master, as requested." He said, approaching and handing Freyr the small handmade box.
"Thank you." Freyr replied, fixing his hair to fit a more messy look. "Take the rest of the night off. I'll be home late." Turning to Kåre, he looked up at those pretty eyes of his. How can you be this happy?
"Yes, Master! Thanks!" He exclaimed, closing his eyes as Freyr caressed his cheek. The assassin would probably never know why he brought so much joy to that Seraphim. In retrospect, after what he had been through, who wouldn't be happy to live in a place like this? Before departing, Freyr went for his jewelry box, putting on a choker with a woven design, a pair of rings in each hand and a golden bracelet to finish. Feeling satisfied, he turned to Kåre again.
"I wanted to say thank you for earlier." Freyr said, avoiding the Seraphim's eyes. "You have been very good to me and I appreciate that."
Kåre smiled and bowed. "I'm always happy to serve, Master. Glad I could cheer you up."
You did more than that, Freyr thought as he fixed his coat. "I'll be back late. You get some sleep." Hearing that familiar 'Yes, Master' was enough to draw the smallest smile out of him. Sighing, he turned to leave, heading outside and locking the door on his way out. Tonight was going to be a long one
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