Fix This Dying Soul

Title: Fix This Dying Soul
Author: Shadow Arashi
Character/Pairing: RhadamanthexKanon
Themes: #9 sin # 8 if only you could be mine # 20 I won't allow that (bonus)
Warnings: Angst, violence/domination and lemon (almost non con).
Disclaimer: Me don’t own Saint Seiya or any of the characters used in this story. I only borrow them and give them back in ‘relatively’ good shape. ^^;;




Fix This Dying Soul

- Spoil of War -




Come to me my friend (Listen to me)
I'll help this torture end (Help to set me free)
Let your ego go (I can't carry this load)
You can't go through this alone (I feel so hopeless and exposed)
You'll find your peace of mind (Give me some direction)
You can no longer hide (Break out of this isolation)
Let humility (Openness, honesty)
And become what you can be (A healing tranquillity)


+ Third Fix +


Rhadamanthe looked at the mess on the floor, annoyed as if the pieces of glass were the responsible and let out a frustrated sigh. This was the fourth time in one week he had broken something through negligence. This wasn’t like him. No, it wasn’t like him at all.

Feeling Minos and Rune glancing at him in puzzlement the Wyvern decided he had enough for today. He pushed the chair backward and briskly left the judges’ room. Once he was outside he stopped and took a deep breath, trying to put some kind of order in his thoughts.

He wasn’t very successful, to say the least. The image of wide blue eyes kept coming back, despite his best efforts to chase it. Slowly making his way to his quarters, Rhadamanthe busied himself by spending most of the trip thinking about nothing. It would be too dangerous otherwise.

He reached his quarters in time to see two servants leaving, each one carrying a tray of towels and medicine. His face expressionless, the spectre pushed the large door opened. Going through the room Rhadamanthe went toward the small door in the far corner, and pushed it opened.

Kanon was still there, unconscious.

The sight reminded him of the day he had brought him to the castle. The long haired man had been lying in a similar way upon another bed, without the fever ravaging his body. Like now.

It was only his own fault if he was there, he knew that.

He had been the one who dragged the weakened man to the spa and then left him cold and alone. So cold and weak that he fell sick. Rhadamanthe told himself it was his sense of honor which pushed him to order the servants to tend to the ill ex saint of Athena. After all he couldn’t leave his property go to waste, not after he had just succeed in-

A fist came crashing against the wall, making yet another small hole near a growing collection of similar fits printed holes on the wall.

Rhadamanthe cursed at his new fit of rage. It didn’t last this time though. His eyes widened suddenly and he briskly turned toward the sleeping figure. Seeing that Kanon was still asleep, he let out the breath he had been holding. Then his eyes opened in shock once again, and stared at the sleeping man, seeing him struggle lightly with the blanket, uneasy and coughing.

He had just been worried about waking him up!!


The spectre raised his trembling, barely wounded hand to his face. How ironic he noted, that this was the same hand he had cut when Kanon had thrown the vase at him.

This was going too far though. Rhadamanthe understood this and knew it had to stop. He couldn’t stop thinking about the episode in the spa and it was already affecting his performances in his work.

Unacceptable.

He couldn’t allow himself to go to such waste. Just as he couldn’t allow himself to give in either into these strange, conflicting desires he couldn’t quite identify inside him, he would not allow it.

And then he was doing exactly what he had promised himself not to do, despite his better judgment. But hey, it was better than to be left a pathetic clumsy mess he thought. He may be many things but Rhadamanthe of Wyvern wasn’t a coward yet.

With a silent move he stepped into the small room and closed the door. Another step forward and he was by Kanon’s side. Sitting down on the bed, he putted a hand on the pale forehead and bit back a wince at heated skin. It wasn’t good at all. Obviously the ex saint and marina hadn’t been healing despite the care of the servants.

/Maybe he needs a little help/

The thought came subtly, so discreetly in fact that Rhadamanthe didn’t reacted until he was already calling his cosmos and providing strength and warm to the unconscious man. And then it was too late.

Their cosmos had intertwined in a golden aura mixed with darkness, letting the spectre read into the battered man’s most secret emotions.

What he read there overwhelmed him, and a black veil fell upon his eyes.

Rhadamanthe fought the new blackout desperately, fearing what may happen in his ‘absence’. When he emerged, he was greeted by the most astonishing sight since the episode in the spa.

The clear, soulful blue eyes were opened, slightly glazed over but sharp and focused on him. Focused on him only. The heated skin gave the illusion of blushing while long locks of blue hair invaded the bed and pillow. One of his own hands had taken a handful of this blue silk, the other lost in the tissue of the light tunic he was trying to remove from the slender body.

/I’m loosing it./

He thought and read the same surprised discovery in Kanon’s eyes. To hell with it all, he wanted to have him, and he would have him now.

Rhadamanthe crossed the distance and meet soft, pliant and warm lips.

He felt Kanon stiffening in what he supposed was shock but didn’t back down. He was past being able to control himself now. He just couldn’t resist the imperious singing at the back of his mind, the little voice whispering night and days since that day to make the ex saint his, in every senses of the word this time.


Kanon felt something warm tug at the back of his mind, calling him and coaxing him to- to what exactly?

His mind was still confused, lost in a feverish daze where he had been left on his own and that until now he had had no desire to escape from. But a strong presence had obviously decided it had last long enough and was giving him comfort, like it wanted to see him out of this dream like state. Curious and despite his inner promise, Kanon allow himself to wake up and opened his eyes sleepily.

The surprise was total when he saw who had called to him.

He barely had time to gasp when the spectre’s demanding lips caught his in a kiss, borderline on harsh. He had definitely not counted on the Wyvern to pull him from his state and especially not in that way. Not with what had happened the last time. Not with the way the spectre had ran away from him.

Rhadamanthe seemed determined not to stop this time and Kanon realised that the Wyvern was past caring. He wanted him, wanted him body and soul and with a shudder he understood that there was nothing he could do.

/No! I can’t-/

Panic flashed through him, forcing him to fight back no matter how weakly. He knew it wouldn’t do him much good but… Kanon just couldn’t allow himself to give in.


Rhadamanthe sensed the form under him struggling but disregarded it. He had no problem holding down the still slightly feverish man, and the resistance only reinforced his desire to make him his.

"I will make you mine Kanon, so stop fighting me!"

He growled lowly, the words rushing past his lips without any control. His self control seemed to have taken a vacation for good this time.

Kanon only fought back harder, though the reason behind it was different. The first time Kanon had clearly fought against a man he hated or thought he hated, a man who had done everything to bring him lower than dirt and fought against what the spectre was standing for. Now he was fighting against himself.

Now Kanon was struggling with his own feelings and emotions, which were in contradiction with what his reasons told him.

He could still feel the warm presence which gave him strength earlier in the back of his head, pulsing softly in his veins in time with the Wyvern’s harsh breath against his lips. It only makes it harder and he could feel his resolve declining with each passing seconds. Despite his inner knowledge that doing so would be committing the worst sin since his childhood years, a part of him wanted to give in and fall into this seductive darkness.

Rhadamanthe finally pulled away, sensing the inner torment of the being sprawled under him. He could perceive Kanon’s will starting to fade and allowed himself a smile. The ex saint was almost ready to renounce. This thought only added fuel to his fire and he attacked the pale skin of the elegant neck, his hands removing without care the tunic which was getting in his way.

"You will submit to me, I won’t allow you to hide from me anymore."

It was more than a statement, it was a promise.

Kanon bit his lips sharply and looked away briskly to escape the enticing voice.

"I can’t."

He whispered, still not daring to glance at the man who was both terrifying and bewitching him. Rhadamanthe made a muffled sound against his throat, causing a shiver to run up his spine.

"You can, and you will."

And as easily as that, the Wyvern dismissed the last of his prey’s fear and reticence from his mind. He achieved to undress the pale body, enjoying the view of the exposed skin and gentle curves. Without batting an eyelash, he spread the long legs apart, firmly decided to finish what he had started.

Kanon panicked when he felt his body being exposed to the spectre’s eyes. This time there would be nothing stopping Rhadamanthe. He reflexively raised a hand to push the weight on top of him before freezing on the spot.

He didn’t even scream when Rhadamanthe penetrated him, all the air forced out of his lungs and eyes wide in shock. The scream died in his throat.

Rhadamanthe almost had another black out when he entered the warm body. The sensation was much more intense than he had expected and he did the only thing he could to keep some small measure of control; he bit down savagely onto one unfortunate shoulder.

A thin trail of blood trickled downward onto the sheets as Kanon shuddered violently against him. He ignored it.

The sensation of the warm blood gliding on his skin threw Kanon into a feverish but almost catatonic state. It was both alluring and erotic somehow, but it also scared him. It reminded him of all the times he ended up covered in blood after a ‘training’ session with the English spectre…

/But that was before he decided he wanted to screw you rather than hurt you./

A little voice was whispering treacherously in the back of his mind.

But the little voice was soon drowned by the sensation the Wyvern was forcing upon him. The first slow movement had left place to harsher, stronger thrusts, reducing his world to the feeling of the body against him, filling his veins for the first time in so long with red hot pleasure.

Kanon let out a chocked moan, the frontier between pain and ecstasy blurring even more with each passing seconds. His resolve was holding onto a single thread now, as Rhadamanthe gave a physical reality to the bound formed earlier by their cosmos.

He was reading into the Wyvern’s aura as much as he had read into his own. In his situation Rhadamanthe was the only thing he had left, the only thing he could hold onto. In a twisted sense of irony, the spectre was the one person who could give him what he had lacked for so long. The one person who could now put him back together anew after having pulled him apart so thoughtfully.

His pained moan turned into softer gasps, echoed by the pants against his ears. The sensation of dirtiness he expected to feel for what he was allowing this servant of Hades to do to him never came, to his own surprise. It was actually quite the contrary as a blissful sense of fulfilment erased the rest of his resistance and coherent thoughts.

Right now his earlier worries and fears of committing a sin were quickly becoming unimportant to him. Slowly, Rhadamanthe had been twisting Kanon’s beliefs and emotions to match his own and was now finalising the metamorphosis.

Rhadamanthe’s whole body and soul was ready to burst with the pleasure and joy he felt when he sensed that Kanon was finally giving in, accepting him. He himself had come to terms with something he hadn’t identified before; his simultaneous desire for both the liberty of the one he had started at least privately to call his lover and his submission to his will.

He wanted a willing surrender, and he was almost there.

Picking up speed, Rhadamanthe pulled Kanon into another kiss even as he buried himself as deep as he could into the tight heat, searching for the breaking point of his ‘victim’. Kanon reacted with a hiss and arched into the bed, eyes glazing over once again.

He was reaching the point of no return, the point where the very notions of goodness, evil and sin didn’t hold any meaning anymore. Right now Kanon felt fine and alive for the first time in so long and he was realising he didn’t care anymore if this was a sin.

"Let go. You know I could actually heal you, take all this pain away from you. This nightmare doesn’t have to continue."

The Wyvern whispered in his ear.

It was a sweet trick, a far too poisoned promise seeping into his mind while he faced a loosing battle. It gave him a new understanding about that little evil tugging in the back of his mind, the one that ran him like a heart through the heart and abolish all conscience and restrains.

Leaving him with only one motive and one desire.

Sweet revelation sweet surrender… Sanity was truly beyond him now.

The realisation sunk into him but this time it lacked the horror filling quality it had first held. This time Kanon embraced it instead. He didn’t care where this path leaded him anymore, he needed it.

/help me please save me/

The words died in his throat even as he wrapped his arms around Rhadamanthe’s shoulders and returned the contact, being through with all that has been eating him for so long. Then pleasure washed away everything else in a nebula of white.

Rhadamanthe lost all control at this instant, with the soft touch of his Kanon on his back and the total abandon in the precious body. He was unable to focus on anything but this surrender he had fought so hard to win, his vision filled with the sight of his most beautiful victory lying under him. Pleasure caught him at this moment, pulling a roar of joy and pure triumph out of him.

The English spectre fell on top of the ex saint gone astray, arms tightening immediately around the shaking form. Rhadamanthe listened to the soft panting and sounds Kanon made as he tried to gather his thoughts, an overwhelming feeling of satisfaction and something else he didn’t dare to explain pulsing in his veins throughout his whole body.

He had simply never felt so good in his life, all his previous frustrations having disappeared. With an unconscious, tender smile which went unnoticed Rhadamanthe ran a hand through the long blue hair, responding to the unspoken request for comfort from his lover.

There was no need to words now. He had won and that was all that matter. Kanon was his and he dared anyone to take him away from his watchful protection.

Rhadamanthe let his eyes wander, admiring the lethargic but peaceful form by his side. Kanon had his eyes closed and a calm expression on his still flushed face. He wasn’t trying to hide anymore now, the spectre noted with satisfaction.

The spectre then leaned against the headboard and grasped the glass of whisky he had forgotten on the night table, preparing himself to enjoy the rest of the night, until Kanon wake up that is.

Hades laughed out loud when the last hints of energy from the Wyvern’s room dissipated and shook his head, shrugging off the confused looks of his dear Pandore.

As a God who despite common belief care about his men, he was glad Rhadamanthe had finally succeeded in winning the ex saint of Athena over. That man was a real beauty who had also presented quite a challenge for his spectre. Something the Wyvern had badly needed. No wonder that those two had ended up together. And Pandore wondered why he had agreed to let Rhadamanthe keep him.

With another laugh Hades commanded Pandore to start playing her harp again. Soon the soft music filled the room, lulling the God of Death and all the residents of the castlle.



"Whenever I'm alone with you
You make me feel like I'm whole again

I will always love you
There's no choice"

A Perfect Circle - Diary of a Madman


++++