Chapter Text
***
I am on my knees
please, do not think that I pray
I have been damaged
***
"Haschwalth Jugram.”
His Majesty was dead, and for reasons Jugram Haschwalth did not yet understand, he was not.
His Majesty was dead, and yet Jugram awoke not on stone floors in a forgotten battlefield, but within a soft bed layered with blankets.
His Majesty was dead, and, incomprehensibly, a Shinigami was speaking to him.
“Haschwalth Jugram,” the voice repeated, more firmly this time.
His eyelids fluttered open, though his sight remained unfocused. “Captain Byakuya Kuchiki.”
If the captain was startled by the recognition, he made no indication of it. Haschwalth's familiarity with him should come as no surprise; the daten had exhaustively deconstructed the Gotei 13, Byakuya Kuchiki included, down to the most intimate of details. In truth, to call his knowledge of Byakuya Kuchiki ‘familiar’ would be an understatement.
"You can speak. Good," Kuchiki replied, his tone devoid of any hint of curiosity or sympathy. As always, he seemed to embody the calm, cool and collected poise that preceded his reputation. “I have questions, and you will answer them.”
"And If I refuse?"
"You will not."
Haschwalth frowned slightly. "No?"
"No. It concerns Ishida Uryū."
A bolt of sharp emotion struck him, fierce and indiscernible—a blend of fury and bitter outrage and something deeper, darker, clawing beneath the surface without name. His mind latched onto anger, the one feeling he could identify, and for the first time since waking, the blankets around him felt weighted like lead, stifling in an instant. He attempted to sit up, to free himself from the suffocating layers, only to find his movement halted; his arms lay restrained beneath the thick comforter, held fast by intricate manacles. Cold metal pressed into his wrists, and in that instant, he realized he felt no familiar spark of reishi at his fingertips. It was like being a child again. These were no ordinary restraints—unless something had gone dreadfully wrong with him after his defeat, an anxiety he could not afford to entertain. With effort, he steadied himself enough to offer the captain a response. “And what about a traitor would compel my interest?”
"Your emperor named him as his successor, did he not?"
He did not need the reminder. He had been there when His Majesty made the announcement; he had even defended the decision from criticism. "What of it?"
“Yhwach is dead,” Byakuya answered, tone unchanged.
"I am aware."
“Then you know that Ishida now holds his place.”
"I am aware."
“Then your options should be clear.”
They were, but there was no real choice. "Speak plainly, Shinigami. What are you asking of me?"
"Do you intend to serve the new 'king,' Quincy, or follow those who chose death?"
Haschwalth closed his eyes, turning his head away. A bitter question. Ishida was a young, misguided, disloyal race traitor lacking the experience of any ruler before him. Nevertheless, His Majesty’s decision to appoint him was not without wisdom. The boy had the potential to wield power well—if only he would accept his place. Without guidance, he would flounder in his own contrarieties. But that, Haschwalth thought with quiet resentment, must have been the reason he lived.
Fixing his gaze on Byakuya, he spoke steadily. “I serve His Majesty.”
“Which one?” The captain’s voice held a slight edge.
“The one who holds claim to the Quincy throne. Currently, that would be Uryū Ishida.”
The answer appeared to satisfy Byakuya to an extent. “I see.”
Bluntly, Haschwalth replied, “And why have I not been killed, Captain Kuchiki?”
"By the Soul Society, or your former king?"
“Your Soul Society,” Haschwalth answered, allowing no trace of offense to show. He would have died for Yhwach—he had come to terms with that many years ago. Failure. The word lingered, heavy and damning.
“Fortune, or perhaps fate, Haschwalth Jugram. Captain-Commander Kyōraku seeks reconstruction, not retribution. He is not without an understanding of our past errors. Still, it was not he who suggested you be given a second chance.”
"Nor was it you, I expect."
“No,” Byakuya said coolly. “That came from Ishida himself. Were it up to me, you would be formally tried and executed for the crimes committed against us. You must understand that, should you fail to prove your worth, that possibility remains. I would advise you to find your loyalty.”
The indignity made his stomach twist. He would serve a half-blood, a Gemischt Quincy king—one puppeteered by Shinigami no less. Freedom, as much as he longed for it, felt so far away. He gave a shallow nod. “Very well. Tell me what my use is, Captain."
***
only cowards run.
are cowardly and cunning
one in the same thing?
***
As Haschwalth had expected, his obligation to Ishida began as soon as he regained enough strength to kneel. He made his oath of fealty with the gravitas it deserved, though Ishida’s visible discomfort with the affair was plain. That much, he thought, was well enough. Ishida was already struggling to uphold the dignity demanded by the crown—a boy still learning to wear a mantle far heavier than he would ever understand.
“My life is yours,” he intoned, bowing low. “My mind, body, and soul bend in deference to His Majesty’s will, as the bow bends to the archer’s hand. I swear to serve your wants and interests with utmost obedience, undeterred by trial or hardship. In your name, I shall act with equity and uphold the dignity of all Quincy. I will strive to safeguard the honor of your reign, to bring strength where there is weakness and counsel where there is doubt. In war and in peace, I pledge my unbroken loyalty, until your crown departs the throne, or death claims me, or the worlds crumble to dust. Ich verspreche."
The boy-king’s disquiet showed in the thin set of his mouth, his eyes flicking away in unease. “Your oath is acknowledged, Haschwalth Jugram. Rise.”
Obliging, Haschwalth met Ishida’s gaze. “I once pledged the same to Yhwach over a thousand years ago. That I now give it to you is no less binding.”
“Yes, I—” Ishida said, holding an almost bitter composure. “That is why I requested your clemency.”
"Certainly,” Haschwalth replied, his gaze fixed upon his emperor. “I will make no waste of your merciful decision."