Blue Embers

Rating: T

Summary: AU Most people would run away if they found out they were being chosen as the Prince of Hell's bride. Most people wouldn't give up their dreams and try to love the Devil. But most people aren't like Tino Väinämöinen. SuFin.


Long time, no see, reviewers, if any of you still remember me, I'll cry.

This update is brought to you by: both Yankeedoodledork and Fryst Hjrta.

.:Chapter Eleven:.

Dominance and Submission

"Yo' don' kno' yo'r plac'."

The moment that Berwald moved, Tino had reached out his arm and broke his ass over the table to create a weapon. He kicked the chair out from under him, hit the floor, and made sure that there was distance between him and the other demon. "Back the fuck up," the Finn snarled. "You aren't putting me in any place I don't wanna be."

Said older demon narrowed his icy eyes, "Ya. Yo' disobe' me."

"Tell me how," Tino said, backing up. Berwald came closer and Tino brandished the makeshift blade, he hissed minutely as the broken glass cut through his bruised skin of his palm. Too practices – Lukas' harsh training was going to get him killed.

"Yo' talk ba'k. Lik' now." Berwald answered, he came even closer.

Tino glared, "Back up, or I will fucking cut you." He showed the blade, the other didn't even flinch. So when the larger demon made to raise his arm and hit the other, Tino ducked and threw himself under the table. Berwald's fist crashed through the hard wood and the Finn's eyes widened.


The table began to rise as Berwald pulled his fist, and Tino prepared himself to strike. He readied himself and right as he saw Berwald again, the Finn threw himself out his old safety net and into the open. He made to slash at Berwald –

-But the larger demon's size did not hinder him in the slightest. He grabbed Tino by his armed wrist and swung him in a circle over his head and tossed him to the side. The Finn's body rolled over the floor, crashed into chairs, before coming to a stop at the wall. Tino's ears rang, head throbbing as his breathing turned heavy. Blood dripped from a cut above his eyebrow.

Alarm bells went off, telling him that danger was still coming, and he cracked open his eyes.

Berwald had a fist raised.

Tino rolled with a heave, let the demon crash his arm into the wall and struggle to get free. Tino took the moment to gather his bearings and duck for a new weapon. His old glass one had been stepped on.

Fucking lunatic, Tino thought as he made a steel grip on a broken chair leg. "Juokse junan alle!"

"W'at?" The older demon growled, pulling his hand free and shaking off the debris.

"I said – Run under a train," Tino snarled. Berwald's face darkened, as he rose to his full height. His eyes were glowing as his fist clenched and unclenched. "Or are you so prehistoric," Tino smirked, "that you've never gotten past walking as a means of transportation?"

"Bad mo'th," the older demon growled.

"Bite me," Tino scoffed, widening his stance for a quick reflex and a strong hit. He kept his eyes on the focus, the target being Berwald –

He almost missed as Berwald suddenly appeared in front of him, eyes bright, and mouth full of savage teeth. He opened his mouth and Tino acted instinctively, he swung upwards at the other demon's mouth, hearing the crack of the wood snapping and hearing a grunt before his face was swiped down on.

He screamed out in pain, face burning like fire, and barely able to comprehend anything beyond the agony as he forced himself to rise from his crouch on the floor. He hadn't even realized he'd fallen, but when he did – he did saw large feet stomping cleanly over the debris to him.

He spat blood at the ground, forcing himself up and bracing himself with the broken chair leg. The missing half of it caused him to falter and he almost tossed it aside. He scowled. Just great. His weapon was compromised. Peachy.

He could barely see past the blood over his lashes and thinking was becoming more difficult by the second. He took a step back to square his weight and when he thought Berwald was coming for him again, he swung it up to kick at the other's jaw.

He nailed a good hit, but the other grabbed his ankle and swung him too. Swung him up and then made to throw him down and kick him aside. Tino forced himself into a sitting position in the air, feeling his abdomen burn at the lack of stretching prior, and grabbed onto the other for dear life.

When Berwald tried to knock him aside, roaring, Tino inched himself upwards. He spat in the other's face, hearing the awfully vulgar-sounding string of words and bashed their heads together. He hoped he had done it correctly; he hadn't done it in a while.

Berwald stumbled and Tino pulled back his bloody head to glare at him, pulling off one hand and pulling back his readily-made fist. He swung his legs to wrap them at Berwald's waist, steadied himself, and then risked his chance to land a series of punches to the older demon's face.

Berwald grabbed at the back of his hair, pulled his head back, Tino winced but landed one more punch to the other's nose before he loosened one leg from their entanglement to kick into the other demon's jaw. "Fuck you!" Tino shouted.

He jumped down, heaving in breath after breath. He hadn't felt his Other side the entire time of the fight and he wondered if that was a bad thing. Blood trickled down his arm, as did pain, and he took some steps back to distance himself from the very pissed demon Royal in front of him.

Berwald flashed to his area, slapping him across the face with the back of his hand. Tino slammed into the wall, stars occurring in his vision, as he blinked to filter them out. Whoa. The demon Royal roared and he forced himself to rise.

The other demon's face was bloodied from his hits, so his fight was effective there, but the other wasn't hindered in movement whereas Tino was limping and had a beaten and possibly broken arm. Not that he was going to let either stop him.

When the other launched himself again, Tino ducked and rolled, pushing pain to the back of his mind, and going for the discarded silverware. He found a carving knife for possibly a larger meat and gripped it tightly.

Berwald saw his blade and snarled, "Fig't fa'r."

"You first, mother fucker," Tino breathed, barely able to grasp any breath into his lungs. He gripped the knife with both hands, with a grip to challenge death, as he braced himself. Berwald didn't move. Tino didn't move, he knew better than to charge when he was wounded. A bad charge could be the final line between winning a fight and dying in one.

Berwald squared his shoulders and Tino tensed, only for the shorter to force himself to relax for good movement, before he saw the glow disappear from the older demon's eyes.

He didn't let down his guard, as the other made to sigh and wiped his hand over his face. The older demon looked solemnly at the battered Finn and then then shook his head. Said Finn waited for a trick, anything to signal that the other was trying to fool him into giving him an opportunity.

But Berwald didn't trick him; he just looked grim, as he walked past Tino. His shoulder didn't even touch him, the other didn't even glance at him, but his face looked pained.

Only after the larger demon had been gone for a while did Tino finally fall to his knees. "Shit…" He mumbled, dropping the knife. His knuckles hurt from gripping the handle so tightly. He held his knees close to himself, shaking some from the nervousness he had barely known that he'd been holding onto the whole time.

He closed his eyes for just a second, breathing deeply, as he thanked every God he could think of, anyone to thank for being alive. It felt like he had only closed his eyes for a second and he didn't feel himself dozing off…

Someone touched his shoulder and almost immediately Tino had his knife back and aimed it at their jugular, eyes as wide as the dried blood covering them would allow, and his bruised arm protesting the sudden movement. It took a moment for him to focus, and the person waited for him to recollect himself, there was someone behind him.

It was Emil; he looked tired, as he made to take the blade from Tino. He shushed the other softly, slowly but surely easing his grip done. Elizabeta was behind him, she didn't meet his eyes, kept her head down and solemn. The Finn couldn't think if she was acting or if she really didn't want to look at him.

Emil helped him up, supported his weight, and led them all upstairs to Tino's room.

No one said a word.

The floor barely creaked under their weight, but it was slippery. So slippery, Tino stumbled more than once on the liquid and when he looked down, he saw blood. But it was too dark to be his. His eyes widened and he began to breathe a bit faster, trying to get up the stairs quicker, Emil held him back and shushed him.

"It is okay, Tino, everything's okay," Emil whispered, as he kept them at the same pace. In the background – there was a torrent of screams, roars, yelling and chaos. "Shh, you're going to be fine."

Someone was calling for help, Tino almost slipped on the blood. Roar. Someone begged for mercy. Roar. Thump – a lot of them. Someone else was banging on the walls. Scratching. Another roar.

Emil continued to shush Tino as Elizabeta kept him from the source of the noise through the walls. Her face was so dark and grim, she held his hand but her grip was too strong for her to be calm. He looked at her once and she met his eyes. There was such a burning hatred in them that Tino was the one to look away. Elizabeta went back to looking at the floor, her steps even and her breath calmly paced.

They made it to the Finn's room and while Emil helped the other into bed, Elizabeta closed and locked the door – and pushed a dresser in front of it. As if she knew something, she looked to Emil and he nodded. She then turned her back to watch the door as she sat on the floor at the end of the bed.

Emil took care of Tino's words with the supplies that had been left some time earlier in the room. The screams were muffled in his room but Tino still looked to Emil for an explanation, the stoic demon gave none. There came a banging at the door and Elizabeta pulled a hidden sword from the folds of her dress by her belt. The banging continued, and added to its noise with screaming and loud pleas for someone to have mercy and open the door.

A roar cut them off and the door shuddered multiple times. Elizabeta didn't even flinch. Neither did Emil, Tino sat near paralyzed with fear at the bed.

The growling by the door left and travelled elsewhere.

Then something occurred to Tino, "Shit –Peter!"

The growling outside the door froze as Emil covered the other's mind and looked back at the door for the first time. Elizabeta had drawn her blade as the growling came back to the door. They were all quiet, barely pushing the dare to breathe. The growling rose in volume briefly and then left again, this time for good.

Everyone remained in their positions for some time, before Emil lowered his hand from Tino's mouth. He glared at said Finn, lowering his voice, "Keep quiet."

"Where is my son?" Tino whispered furiously. He had to know. If whatever was out there or Berwald thought to harm Peter –

"He's fine, the hospital ward is guarded by charms to keep out negative energy," Emil replied back. He wiped the rest of the blood from Tino's face. He tsk'd at the cuts and marks, wiping at them again and pulling a needle from seemingly thin air. Tino's eyes widened, he blinked and then Emil said, "Done."

The Finn blinked as Emil cleaned off the needle and went to cleaning off the other's arm, rolling up his sleeves. The Finn blinked but the other did not answer. He looked up to see that Elizabeta had put away her weapon and was seated once more.

Tino waited out the tedious medical help, idling his time with thoughts and worries. When the short demon finally pulled away, Tino looked at him and asked the question he had been wondering, "What's going on?"

Emil was silent, Elizabeta didn't bother to help him, so he answered, "The King is just upset, and he'll be fine at breakfast in the morning. It's nothing."

Tino wanted to ask another question but he caught something in the other's eyes – fear. A really strong and deeply-rooted one, he knew immediately that these 'tantrums' were nothing new, on the contrary, the whole palace knew about them and yet everyone hid and pretended everything was okay as they hoped they weren't the ones to meet the angry and raging Royal.


The Finn nodded and laid back down on the bed, taking a deep breath and with the notion that his little angel was being protected, he fell into a fitful sleep.

While on the edge of dreams, he heard Emil say to Elizabeta, "I'm scared – he's never gone this far before…do you think -?"

"Yeah," Elizabeta answered lowly. "Something's changing."

"Hm," Emil finished and laid back on the foot of the bed, "You're fine on guard, right?"

"Yes sir," she said. "Sleep easy, I will guard over you both."

Tino could only ponder their words as he slept.