The next morning, against all odds, was sunny and bright. Pavel peeked out the window into the castle grounds and was surprised to see that the fog had receded, light spilling down all over the castle and the Nor Loch. There were rows of pretty potted plants lining the buildings that Pavel hadn't noticed before.

He was still slightly sore, and Scotty more or less fell all over himself trying to make Pavel comfortable.

"Am well enough to move," Pavel protested weakly. "Please. The sun is out, I want to go outside."

"Are you sure, love?" Scotty's face had been creased with concern ever since the tsarevich woke up. "They can bring us food here," he said. "You don't want to lie in a wee longer? You're not hungover? We were both so legless last night," the King rubbed at his own face.

"Nyet," Pavel said. "I want to go outside."

"I'm knackered. Completely useless the now," Scotty looked quite endearing rubbing his face tiredly like that, and Pavel smiled. "Ah, there's a bonny smile," the King said. Pavel was sitting up on the bed, Scotty kneeling in front of him. The King leaned forward and dropped a kiss on his nose. "If you want to go outside, then let's get dressed. After we eat I can show you your presents."

"Presents?" Pavel asked, his eyes brightening a little.

"Aye, your presents, you wee numptie," the King's eyes twinkled and he dropped another kiss between Pavel's eyes. "What kindae husband would I be if I hadnae gotten you some lovely presents, eh?"

Pavel watched shyly as his new husband shrugged on a simple white shirt that tied closed in the front, and then wrapped himself in a long swath of dark green and black tartan wool. There was a whole procedure involved, but soon Scotty stood handsomely in a knee-length kilt, the plaid pinned over his left shoulder. Pavel swallowed back a lump – he didn't want to find this man handsome.

"Can I wear something like that?" he asked softly, still feeling a little silly about his embroidered vests and loose trousers.

"Och of course!" Scotty went and opened a trunk, revealing several different lengths of tartan. "These colours are all the Scott clan tartans. You'll see that all my people wear them, and you will too, but..." he took out a swath of wool, about four yards long. Pavel could not quite place the colours right away – thick lines of grey, black and white crossing so that he couldn't tell which colour was the field and which colours were the lines. Thin rows of red collided overtop. "This is the Balmoral tartan, and only members of the royal family may wear it. Which means me and you, my petal."

Pavel rolled out of bed and stood wrapped up in the bedsheets while Scotty spread the long swath of fabric over the bed. Scotty then pleated the fabric in the middle part, painstakingly, but quickly. Pavel watched his hands so that he could do this quickly soon too.

"Lie down," Scotty instructed. Pavel blushed and hesitantly shed the sheets he had pulled around himself, and lay down on the tartan, right on the line of pleats. The top of the rectangle of fabric reached past the the top of his head, and the bottom cut off right behind his knees.

Scotty didn't say anything about how Pavel still clenched his fists over his privates, nervously. He pulled the kilt over Pavel from one side, enveloping him inside the rough wool.

Pavel squirmed a little against the fabric prickling against his soft skin. Scotty chuckled. "Tickles a little, aye? All right love, pull your arms out."

Pavel did so, now completely covered by the tartan, and bit his lip. His skin had grown hot and prickly against the wool of the kilt, and he tried not to rub his stirring cock against the fabric. He hoped his new husband wouldn't notice, not wanting to encourage anymore sexual contact just the now.

Scotty pulled the other half of the fabric over Pavel, wrapping him up entirely in the fabric, so Pavel couldn't even see. "Easy, peasy. Just like a wee bairn," Scotty said. Pavel felt him thread a belt around Pavel's waist and buckle it. Then he felt Scotty's hands on his shoulder, gently supporting him. "Stand up, love."

Pavel did, and the plaid fell around him – the part of the fabric above his belt covered entirely the kilt, falling almost to his ankles, looking like a woman's full skirt. Pavel caught a glimpse of himself in the large, full-length mirror on the wall and reddened, taking in his pale, skinny chest. He heard Scotty chuckle.

"I look silly," the tsarevich said, miserably.

"Naw, you look right bonny. We just forgot about your shirt!" Scotty chuckled again as he handed Pavel a white shirt, which the boy shrugged on, and then tucked underneath the belt and plaid. "Much as I'd love to have you running about shirtless, it would not be the proper thing to do. Now." Scotty stood behind Pavel and took both the boy's hands in his. "This is called the apron plaid," he reached down with Pavel's right hand and grasped a corner of the plaid in front of him, and then the opposite corner behind him with his left hand. "And it's very easy. You just pull it up like this -" he gathered the plaid over Pavel's left shoulder and arranged Pavel's hands to hold the fabric together. "If it was raining, you could just pull the plaid over your head. But today, we'll pin it. This came with your things, here, it's your da's coat of arms, innit?"

Scotty produced, from a small wooden box that Pavel recognized as his own jewel box, a large brooch with a golden, double-headed eagle, holding a sceptre and a bauble in its talons. Scotty pinned it on the plaid at Pavel's shoulder, and the tsarevich smiled despite himself, seeing his venerable father's noble crest against his husband's royal tartan.

"There's that bonny smile again," Scotty said softly. He put his hands on Pavel's upper arms, and kissed him yet again on the forehead.

Pavel squirmed, trying to ignore the wool against his cock and the stubble brushing his face, and stared down at the brooch by his shoulder.

"Pavel, I..." Scotty started, very very softly. "Well. It disnae matter. Let's go outside."

They ate in the Great Hall, and then went out into the sunshine, the cool air and gentle breeze wafting around them. Pavel thrilled to the kiss of the sun, turning his face to it, closing his eyes against the breeze flitting through his curls, and, deliciously, between his thighs.

Scotty led him over to one of the walls of the castle and Pavel's breath was almost taken away when he looked out. "It is prettier today," he said.

"Aye," Scotty laughed. "Only because it's no raining. But even when it's raining, it's a bonny place. Look, there," the King pointed. "That's Arthur's Seat – a volcano. Actually, the castle is built on a volcano, too."

"Really!" Pavel's eyes widened.

"Aye, relax my wee petal, they're dead volcanoes. Look, down there. That's the Canon's Gait," he pointed down the narrow road that Captain Kirk had brought him up the day he had arrived. It tapered down the hill, going into the peasant town below, and out all the way to the city wall – one straight line away from the castle. "The canons – that's a priest like, for instance, our own Mister Spock, they walk all the way down there to their abbey at Holyrood. And since many of the canons are so fat, their gait is wide, like this," he wrapped his hands around Pavel's hips and swayed them from side to side.

Pavel laughed, both at his husband's impression and the flirting, and then suddenly felt very bad for enjoying it. He pushed his new husband away without a word and took a few steps forward.

"Ehm," Scotty said, trying to salvage his dignity. "I have another palace there, at Holyrood, that's why they also call it the Royal Mile, because it links both the castle and the palace. Holyrood is prettier, I would've liked to have had our wedding there but it's nae well protected," he paused for a beat, watching the tsarevich, who was now looking away, out at the water of the Firth of Forth in the distance, silently. "We can go see it when we have our trip, though," he added uselessly.

Pavel kept staring out at the Firth, watching the calm expanse of water. He was still uncomfortably half-hard under his kilt, his skin prickling against the unfamiliar fabric, and he hated feeling this way, and feeling so good when Scotty put his hands on him. But then he would remember Russia, and his father's alliance, and feel bad for feeling bad. This wasn't fair.

His attention was caught by the fluttering of a cape on the promenade below the wall he was standing in front of. Pavel looked down to see Miss Nyota walking with Captain Kirk, the tall man's cloak trailing behind him in the breeze. At Nyota's heels traipsed a black and furry little thing. Pavel looked up at Scotty, his previous anxiety momentarily forgotten.

"Is that a...?" his English failed in his excitement.

"Aye," Scotty grinned and his eyes twinkled again. "Your father told me you had lots of dogs in Russia?"

"Da, my laikas," Pavel confirmed. Nyota and Kirk had by now disappeared into a staircase below, and reappeared shortly coming out of the wall by Pavel and the King. They were both wearing one of the Scott tartans, in a dark blue. Kirk was impossibly handsome in a kilt with no plaid under his cloak, showing off strong legs, the shirt open over his muscled chest. Nyota wore a fitted bodice around her considerable figure, and a full tartan skirt that fell in a big circle around her, foofing around regally as she walked.

Nyota grinned at Pavel and held out the puppy. "Congratulations on your wedding Pavel!" she said, her face lighting up into a smile.

The puppy was black and sleek, and had little legs and a wizard-like beard. Pavel couldn't help but smile when he took the puppy in his hands and it licked at his face. "I have never seen a laika like this before!" he lapsed back into Russian in his excitement and Nyota beamed right back at him.

"He's a little scottie terrier. Keenser, the King's dog, had puppies last month."

"Ah, spasibo!" Pavel turned and pushed himself up onto his toes to kiss his new husband on the cheek. "Thank you!"

The little group took a long walk around the castle grounds, Pavel revelling in the sunshine and the breeze and how beautiful the surrounding countryside was, all green and lively and dotted with bright flowers. Scotty and Captain Kirk talked long and fast in their thick accents, while Nyota hung back with Pavel, stopping often to play with Andrei the terrier, speaking in Russian.

"Do you like the castle so far?" she asked, neutrally.

Pavel didn't answer right away, watching Andrei chase bugs in a patch of grass on one of the lawns. "It is very pretty, but...I don't know."

Nyota nodded. "It's hard when you're away from home for the first time. It's okay if you're overwhelmed. If you ever want to talk to somebody, you know, in private, you can always come to me," she winked at him, and for a moment Pavel saw why Hikaru was so dazzled by her. "I won't tell Scotty anything you don't want me to."

Pavel smiled. "Yes. I would like that." They walked a little further, laughing at Andrei's antics. "Scotty, he... he is very nice, isn't he?"

Nyota nodded. "Yes, he is."

"I was so scared of him at first, but now I feel foolish," Pavel confessed.

"I was scared when I came here first, too," Nyota said. "I left my family behind just like you, Pavel, and I didn't know what was going to happen. But Scotty is the nicest person I've ever served."

Pavel looked ahead at where Scotty and Captain Kirk stood – Scotty was doubled over with laughter from some story Captain Kirk was telling. The younger man kept talking, punctuating his points now and then with a friendly punch to the King's shoulder.

"My father would never laugh at his one of his captain's jokes," Pavel said. "He was not kind to his servants. But Scotty talks to you all like you are his friends."

Nyota smiled slowly and beautifully. "That's exactly it," she said. "We're his friends."

"Thank you for my present, sir," Pavel said after they took their lunch outside near one of the walls. Well, Scotty, Nyota and Captain Kirk had taken their lunch, Pavel played around on the stones with Andrei.

"Och, that wasn't your present laddie. Every boy needs a dog," Scotty said. He nodded towards the castle gate, at a skinny tower just beyond. "Your present is down there."

"There" was an ordinary tenement building, apparently housing for some soldiers who stood at attention to let Scotty and Pavel pass while Captain Kirk stayed at street level chatting away with them.

On the roof of the tenement building was the white tower visible from inside the castle walls, with a ruddy dark dome on top. Scotty took Pavel all the way up to the top of the building, inside the white tower, and into a darkened room.

"What –" Pavel started, but Scotty hushed him.

"You'll see," he said in the darkness. Pavel heard the squeaking of metal and then a beam of light poured onto a concave surface in the middle of the room. Pavel stepped forward – a piece of stone had been carved into a large, smooth bowl and painted white. From directly above light beamed down, projecting an image of the castle.

How...?

Pavel's head shot up to the top of the room – he couldn't quite see it, but he knew the light had to be pouring from a pinpoint somewhere. Above the bowl, Scotty gripped a metal rod attached to the ceiling. When he twisted his hand around it, the image on the bowl spinned, taking in any view of the land from the white tower's vantage point so high on Castle Rock.

"It's a camera obscura!" Pavel declared.

"Aye, very clever!" Scotty responded, beaming. "It's naething but mirrors, lenses and daylight, but I knew you would appreciate it."

"I made a pinhole camera with my Hikaru to watch the solar eclipse," Pavel said. His gaze shifted from the pretty landscapes on the bowl to the roof, where he was still trying to find the pinhole.

"I know," Scotty's eyes twinkled in the reflected light from the bowl, and Pavel was starting to be a little charmed by that twinkle. "Tha' was when Captain Kirk was visiting you. He told me all about it, and you, and I fell in love with you right away. I thought it was the finest thing a young boy could do."

"My father thought it was waste of time," Pavel said.

"Well, your father isn't here, and you're the king consort of Scotland now. You can do whate'er you wish," Scotty twisted the metal rod and looked up towards the hidden pinhole of light. "I wanted to build you this to show you how much that tickled me. And because I wanted you to see."

The two leaned with their elbows on the edges of the white bowl, looking at the perfect image beamed there, more lifelike than any painting. Scotty pointed out the Pentland Hills, Arthur's Seat, the Grassmarket down in the peasant village, the Tron ("my father used to hang criminals there, but I put an end to tha'"), and the Kingdom of Fife beyond the Firth ("that's ours as well"). The quality of the lenses and mirrors was so good that Pavel could even watch people walking around inside the castle walls, or down on the Canon's Gait.

They talked about the town, about all the secret little stairways and alleys and taverns where wonderful things happened. Scotty was so proud of his country, and the people who were so kind, he said, and so quick to share a song and a dram. He twisted the rod and the image spun, and he showed Pavel Cockburn Street, which wound up from the Royal Mile, supplemented by steep little stairways. There was a pub hidden in there, he said, and they would go with Captain Kirk and Hikaru and he would teach Pavel to drink whiskey properly.

"And after Sunday," he said, "we'll head out for Glaschu and then Loch Lomond, and even to the islands, if you fancy, but I don't think you'll be able to ken what anybody says out there. We can go riding. You can bring Andrei, and yes, Hikaru too. And we'll go to the palace at Lithgae for a while and you can see where I was born. My country isnae as big as yours, but it's very bonnie and I think you'll like it."

The light was starting to fade after their long talk, but neither of them seemed to notice as it grew darker and darker inside the camera obscura. They stood closer, in order to see each other, and talked about how the the rods moved the lenses and mirrors – all very easy stuff, really. Scotty moved on to bigger projects he wanted to develop, and the subjects that Pavel's teacher, Mister Spock, was developing. While Spock had published manuscripts about mathematics and the stars, the beauty of which had been compared to Chaucer, Scotty had ideas that put the mathematics into motion, completely logical ideas for flying machines that could touch those very stars. Pavel was dazzled, having never met a man so smart and forward thinking, and for once in his life was exhilarated to learn. He finally met someone who could show him what he was longing to see.

He wasn't quite sure when the kiss started, or who initiated it, but eventually he had his arms around his new husband's neck, lapping his tongue in and out of that stubbly mouth, running over crooked teeth. Scotty's hands were tangled in his curls and stroking across his back. Scotty sucked on Pavel's tongue, and then nipped at his lips, and when Pavel was panting and heavy-lidded he laid the boy's head on his shoulder, nuzzling his ear.

It was completely dark.

"We should go," Pavel said.

"Hold on," Scotty took Pavel's hand and groped his way to the door of the tower in the darkness. "There is one last part of your present."

"Another part?" Pavel couldn't help but smile, his mind fuzzy from the kiss, which was much better than Hikaru's. "Scotty, you are... ah, you are so generous."

"Och," Scotty scoffed. He got the door open and led Pavel out into the rooftop of the tenement building. The moon and stars were bright enough that they could see here. From the streets they could hear soldiers talking and joking, and further down the Royal Mile came the faint sound of music – fiddles and a kind of drum that Pavel had seen at their wedding, skin stretched tight over a short ring of wood and beaten with a small double-headed pestle, which Scotty had told him was called a bodrhan.

"Here," Scotty said, taking Pavel to a corner of the rooftop.

It was a telescope.

Pavel almost squealed, and clapped his hands over his mouth, embarrassed. He had read about such an invention, of course, but they were such a new development that he had never been able to see one in real life. He surmised that, if built correctly, one could see the stars more clearly with a telescope, or even see celestial bodies that weren't visible to the naked eye. And he had said as much to Captain Kirk on his visit.

And here he was, standing in front of one. A big, bulky, cumbersome looking thing, positioned so that it stared hopefully at the skies.

"You build this for me?" Pavel asked feverishly when his English returned to him.

"Aye," Scotty couldn't stop smiling. "When Captain Kirk told me how excited you were to talk about telescopes I knew I had to at least try. Poor bloke had no clue what you were on about!"

Pavel peered through the telescope, holding his breath, and almost died when he got such a close up view of the moon that he could see every crater, ever textured detail. A whole new world of possibility was open up to him.

"You do so much work on this, for me," Pavel said, maybe a little sadly. He wrapped his arms around his handsome new husband and looked up at him. "Am not worth it."

"Of course you're worth it," Scotty said. He kissed him on the forehead, a slow, sweet kiss. "And it wasn't that much work. Just lenses, and mirrors, and starlight."

When they got back to the castle, they raced each other up to the King's bedroom, and into his bed. The kilts unwound from their bodies easily after belts and brooches were taken off. They collapsed into the blankets naked, and Pavel eagerly launched himself at his new husband, unbelievably turned on by all that astronomy and maths talk.

He pulled himself up over Scotty, straddling the older man's thighs, gripping the King's jaw and kissing him deeply. Kissing was sound.

Scotty reciprocated, putting his hands on Pavel's face, but slowly pried the tsarevich off him. "Och, lad, let an old man catch his breath," he said. "Are you sure you don't just want to cuddle? After last night, I dinnae want to hurt –"

"Am sure," Pavel said. He rocked back and forth, vigorously rubbing himself against the older man's thighs. "Can you feel?"

"Aye, I feel your stonner, too right," Scotty said, a faint note of disbelief in his voice. "But that disnae mean, necessarily, tha –"

"I want, husband, please," Pavel said, panting. He wasn't going to last much longer anyway, after the maddening rough rub of that wool kilt all day long.

Scotty pushed himself up on his elbows and initiated another long, slobbering kiss. He worried Pavel's lower lip between his teeth a little. "I don't know what a looker like you would want with such a minger like me," he said softly.

Pavel tilted his head slightly, confused. "I do not understand," he said.

"Ah, petal, it's just... I'm scared I'll hurt you like last night. I'm so sorry, I –"

"Ssh!" Pavel said. He pressed another kiss against Scotty's lips to silence him. "I do not want to hear any more about last night. I am sure there will be other times that you disappoint me. Save your apologies."

Scotty grinned a lopsided, devastatingly charming grin. "Aye, love, I suppose I will just have to learn to listen to my wee husband then."

"Da."

They kissed again, and Scotty reached over to a bedside drawer for the oil. He lay back again looking up at Pavel straddling his thighs, and showed the boy how to slick up his erection.

"You tell me as soon as it hurts," he warned. Pavel rolled his eyes and guided Scotty's oil-slicked fingers behind him, pressing them inside just enough to get him ready.

Then Pavel, wide-eyed and breathing heavy, leaned himself forward and lifted himself up, and then eased himself down on his husband's cock.

"Ai!" he cried out in pleasure.

"Aye!" Scotty agreed.

Pavel laughed tightly, a happy and hot sound as he started bouncing up and down, interspersed with moans. He tightened his thighs against Scotty's flank. Scotty gripped Pavel's hips and watched the boy's face, sweaty and beautiful in the torch light. He ran one hand across that beautiful face, and Pavel gripped his arm, sucking on fingers with a feverish urgency.

"Ai, moy ljubóv," he muttered, rocking on top of Scotty faster and faster. He guided Scotty's big hand down his chest, caressing that arm, and soon he was coming in quick, heady spurts. "Moy ljubímyj!" he called out happily.

Scotty came soon after him, with not much sound, his cheeks sore from smiling, staring up at the tsarevich's beautiful face. After a long moment of panting and glowing and blessing his luck, Scotty shook Pavel slightly. "Git down from there," he said. "You're going to be sore if you don't."

Pavel begrudgingly climbed off his new husband and settled himself down for a cuddle. Scotty wrapped him up in sweaty arms and pressed kisses against his curls. "Well, I think we can get used to that, my wee petal, can't we?" he asked.

Pavel nodded sleepily. "Da."

A few days later Pavel had once again packed his bags, not to leave his home, but to explore his new one. He finally saw his Hikaru again, loading bags into the carriage. The older man smiled at him, and helped Pavel up into the carriage. Hikaru looked as handsome as ever in the green version of the Scott tartan, with knee-high socks and his sword on his belt. He word no plaid on his shoulder, like Captain Kirk, and a dashing black cloak, and Pavel hadn't been married he would've fallen in love all over again.

Hikaru smiled up at him from the ground as Pavel sat in the carriage, squirming from his sensitive and oversexed naked skin rubbing up against the wool of his kilt. "I haven't seen you in a few days," Hikaru asked in Russian. "Have you been okay?"

"Yes," Pavel smiled, blushing only a little. "But what have you been doing?"

"Helping the quartermaster. I'm going to teach the soldiers Eastern swordfighting."

"Aye, that will be good," Pavel said. "But, I am happy you are coming with me on this trip."

"Yeah, me too," Hikaru said. Then he lifted himself up into the carriage, leaning over to whisper at Pavel. "Listen, Pasha – would you be really upset if I started courting Nyota?"

Pavel blinked. In one part of his heart, yes, he would be devastated. But a bigger part, who was consumed by mathematics and telescopes and the stars, and looked up at his Hikaru and saw how beautiful he was and how much he deserved it, would be very happy.

"No," he said. "I would not be upset."

Hikaru broke into a gorgeous grin. "Really?"

"Yes," Pavel fidgeted a little, and then captured Hikaru in a tight hug. "You go be happy, Hikaru."

He felt Hikaru smile against his forehead. "You too Pasha."

"I am."

"Good," Hikaru said. He broke away, and took Pavel's chin in his hand. "I have to go pack up the other carriage. You behave yourself." Then he dropped a kiss the bridge of Pavel's nose, and got out of the carriage.

Pavel wrapped his arms around himself. He looked up at the grey sky – it was starting to rain a little, but that was okay – and smiled. His Hikaru was happy now, and so was he.

THE END