The sun hasn't even set yet, and I feel as if someone's run a herd of horses over me. Steel-shod hooves or silver, it makes no difference. But ... in a good way, right?
     Tiernan slowly hauls himself upright, rolling off the bed and staggering towards the bath. Ignoring the mirror (which would reveal hair almost, but not quite exactly like a bird's nest), he splashes water on his face, leaning forward until his forehead rests against the glass. He breathes as if it is a pleasure to simply breathe, to draw air into his lungs and press it out again. "Mmm," he half-moans it, then chuckles quietly to himself, straightening up.
     I feel as if I've been ridden into the ground...
     And that's about half right...
     He finishes what he was doing, emerging from the bath with a towel slung round his neck as he half-ambles, half-waddles back towards the bed. "So what arrangements did you want to make for food?", Tiernan inquires softly, sinking to his knees and leaning up against the cushions, arms folded. "I can run out and get something if you don't want to move. I'm not hungry yet, but," blue eyes skim you, "it's easy to get distracted. Right now though, I don't know if I can climb out that window. What the nine hells was that stuff, anyway?"

     With an inherited look -- arms folded behind his head as he reclines lordly over the bed, his thick fiery hair mussed this way and that, his tattooed body half in, half out of the bed-clothes -- Iowerth lifts his eyebrows. "I'm starving," he notes aloud. As if it just occurred to him, and in that way that says everyone should be interested in his having a full belly.
     He has showered once -- he will have to do so again -- and he was thankful earlier to dunk his face in a basin of cool water. But now, he wants food. "There is a kitchen. This place is surprisingly huge. But then, Melissande is quite wealthy. She is the most famous person in the village, apart from my mother. It's her village, she always gets to be the most famous," he teases. "Hmm... meat. That's what I need. Meat with more meat, perhaps garnished with meat."
     Iowerth rolls his head over to look at you. And he ...looks at you as you lean against the cushions. "Do you mind being the one to fetch my food?" His eyes sparkle lavender pushing the green to the outside edges. "It is... hmmm," he closes his eyes. "..two paces to your left, turn toward the east, and then walk to the corner. The way will open."
     And just how does he know all of this?
     Iowerth chuckles warmly in his throat. "Hmm... amber willow and mandrake. I've never mixed the two together like that. It was..." another chuckle. He lifts the blanket, smirking. Yes, just thinking about what we've done. He drops the sheet to hide his arousal. As if that would work. The sheet doesn't hide much.
     "The amber-willow has a narcotic effect. Mandrake would too, were it ingested. But worn topically, it prolongs erection, bloodflow, delays orgasm. Not forever," he grins lazily, "...but long enough... hmm... by the time you ...really want release, it can't come soon enough."
     All this talk about sex. He sits up, propping pillows behind him. His thighs lie wide. He readjusts himself for comfort. "It's something I learned from... knowledgeable women, older women." He chuckles suddenly. "Who don't want ten minutes of extraordinary... but rather forty-five, sixty."

     You get a look in turn. Simmering blue, traveling over you, regarding your arousal with pointed attention. "Your mother seems very different from my own," Tiernan drawls to you, folding his arms over his chest as he rises, leaning back against the wall. "I don't mind fetching you some food. I imagine you'll ask me to do all sorts of things, if I'm your courtier." All sorts of things, his expression mimics. Like what we were doing earlier.
     A hand rakes back through his hair, tugging it as if to straighten it. It doesn't work (nothing short of fifteen minutes with a brush and comb or five minutes with scissors will) but he doesn't seem to care; turning, he begins to stroll in his nude state towards the direction you've indicated.
     "I guess your experience with women is my good fortune, then, hm?" Tiernan tugs the towel from around his shoulders, now tying it around his waist as a make-shift kilt. "I don't know. Never been with a woman, but seeing as that just about killed me - you put wrong ideas in my head, o wicked prince of the west. I never would have thought of trying to combine those. And I'm never going to be able to look at amber willow or mandrake again without blushing."

     "I read too much," Iowerth smiles, turning to watch you go. "You can find all manners of pamphlets on the nature of herbs and the effects of some upon the body. That and the knowledge of women whose husbands don't have time for them anymore. There haven't been that many," he whispers. "But... you know... there have been a few."
     He inclines his head, watching you go. He smiles to watch you walk. I like your stride. How your body moves. There should be pheasant, hmm... beef pasties...salmon. He rises from bed to pour more of the wine. This wine untainted by amber-willow. You ... should experience a woman. I want to be there when you do... you should know everything you can know about what is out there...
     Iowerth's laughter sounds from behind you. Wicked Prince of the West. I like that. And hopefully you don't see either when I'm not around to enjoy it...

     "You read more than I do. But then, I never went out of my way to learn this kind of stuff - I had different priorities. And a different upbringing." He doesn't seem upset. Or jealous, even. You get a glance back over his shoulder, a flash of a smile. "A few," Tiernan teases. "Is that more or less than a thousand? - I always felt it best to avoid them. Better for their health. Better for mine. And, you know - none of them particularly compelled me to act. Not like you."
     No, not like you at all...
     Beef, he responds to you immediately. I could definitely do with the beef. But I'll get some of everything. Right now I feel like I could eat my beef raw. I am man, hear me roar. He laughs, not bothering to keep it soundless - who is here to hear? So you want to watch me with a woman, is that it? See how I react, if I like her better than I like you? That's not going to happen. But ... I suppose I could be persuaded ...
     He flushes a little bit, the back of his neck going red as he heads around the corner. I've had far too much time in which to think about things. How you affect me. What it does to me. What I end up feeling like when I'm with you - when I've ... been with you. And yes - how much I like it. I botched my last project because of you, you know that?

     Unseen, Iowerth returns to the bed, refreshed drinks in hand. He leans, setting yours upon your own bedside table. He takes a long drink of the sweet wine, infused with cinnamon this. Sucking the last of it from his lower lip, he reclines once more. He holds the silver cup against his body.
     I'm not really worried about losing you to womankind. I do feel it's unfair for you never to know, simply because of me. I would not want that. Your last project. He smiles at that. He does enjoy the creations. I should not be so distracting, a soft chide. And when we do not have to work so hard to see one another, I will be less distracting. You will be able to work on things there. You could even own your own repair shop. He grins at that. A curio shop even...
     Iowerth takes another swallow of wine and then sets his goblet aside. Quite a few less than a thousand. His laughter eases against you as his hands would after such a comment. A gentleman doesn't count, but I am only eighteen.
     "I can smell it!" He roars after you. "You are tormenting me with the tasty goodness! What is taking so long, Tiernan?" That roar is inherited too.

     I don't think you'll hold me from anything. Except possibly a solid night's sleep. He's taking his time, now, deliberately torturing you as he piles cuts of meat on a plate, arranging them artlessly. But remembering how good it feels to be in you ... remembering how it was, how I felt after the first time like I couldn't stand the idea of having anything in me again, only to have to have you an hour later because the ache changed to that emptiness that needed to be filled ... it's easy for me to get distracted.
     Like now. The towel moves a little; his own arousal isn't subtle. Tiernan returns with two overloaded plates on which pheasant vies with duck, salmon with beef and lamb. There's only a few vegetables to be seen - crisp radishes rolled round in honey and sea salt, fist-sized apples that have been cut into chunks. "Women ... if you want to try it - or, rather, if you want me to try it, I will. But only if you're there." The full weight of those blue eyes are on you, now, and Tiernan sets the plates on the bed, dropping to his knees and leaning forward again to look at you from next to the bed. "Do you want me to leave the entire matter in your hands? I trust you, but I don't know."
     He grins a little, a sudden lopsided glance. "Seems like going into a horse breeder's to pick out a mare, a bit. Instead of it just happening, or letting it happen. But if you'd rather, I can go pick up some woman and bring her to - wherever you want. Or ..."
     Or I could devise a cunning revenge for putting such notions in my head, o wicked prince, he teases you in return, a dark eyebrow rising as he smirks at you. What's next? Going to have an ivory tower in which to keep me locked up? And here I always thought it was princesses who got caught up in such things as in the stories. But then ... I like it in the dark, you know.
     He picks up a chunk of duck meat, dangling it towards you. "Patience is a virtue, highness," your lover tells you piously. "And if you expect me to work for a living, you want me to get it right, don't you? Repair shops. Curio shops." He shakes his head. "What're you going to suggest next? I can't wait to hear."

     "Bicycle repair shoppe," Iowerth quips with a grin as you return to join him. "Better yet, a magic motorcycle." Waitaminute. That's genius! He looks at you with a quick moonbeam grin. "Fucking brilliant, that. Motorcycles. You could make us a pair of them. We'll need them to get around the city. It's enormous. One of the largest in the Material Realm."
     Iowerth laughs, leaning forward to attempt to take that duck in a deft mouth. "Tease," he mutters. I wouldn't dream of keeping you in a tower. Any sort of tower, real or metaphorical, my prince. I want you free, or not at all. Hmm? What would it matter if you were with me, if you did not choose to be?
     He plucks a piece of the pheasant up with his fingers. He offers it to you, his fingers slick with the grease from the fat of the roasted bird. He winks. "I'm not going to pick her out for you. Just...some night before we go to the material realm... we'll go on a tavern tour. If one of the girls catches your fancy, then we'll go upstairs. This time, we won't pay them off. We'll... actually fuck them. For a change of pace." He laughs at that, sitting back with another bit of duck, with a side of salmon. He nods to the bedside table and your goblet of refreshed wine as he twists to take up his own.
     You speak about your ache, the desire, what distracts you. Iowerth meditates on that a bit. "I find it most distracting when I wake... wanting you near me. Only able to press my need against the pillow until I release. And again at night... the moments of quiet. Those...have been the hardest. I tend to dive into my work. But... it is when I ...can't distract myself that I ... am distracted by thinking of where we were last, what we were doing..."

     You get a blank look - a what? "What's a motorcycle?" Tiernan furrows his eyebrows together, looking puzzled, trying to piece the word together from its components. "I've seen bicycles on occasion. And unicycles, of course. I think a horse would be more stable. How many wheels does a motorcycle have?"
     You snap at the duck from his fingers, and he lets you have it with a smug grin. Entirely putting aside the symbolism of towers and other tall hard things jutting up from a base? I don't think I'd like being a prisoner. Though I don't mind getting pinned by you. Two falls out of three?
     Tiernan bends his head to take pheasant between his teeth, tugging off a strip of what you hold and then returning for the rest, lips brushing your fingers in a kiss. He chews, answering you where you can pluck the thoughts from his mind and set them free or hold them to yourself as you choose. Hopefully I won't reveal my blithering ignorance. But then, I've seen people fuck often enough. Doesn't look difficult, I figure I can pick it up. I'd actually prefer you be there, admittedly. I don't know why.
     "There are plenty of distractions, Io." He grins at you, picking up a piece of salmon and tossing it at your chest. "You distract me just by being in the room with me. Yes, I think you're right - not having this ... urgency ... will tone it down a little. Though I may take to avoiding you once in a while to recapture it. In some ways, I like it."
     You get a look for a moment; intense, that look. I like burning for you. Not all the time, but there is ... something to be said ... for wanting you the way I do. Not knowing how to handle it, my hands shaking so I can't even handle myself. Imagining your mouth around me, thinking of what I could do to you the next time. Wondering how to use my - skills - to that end. Maybe I should take a stroll through the marketplace before we go anywhere.

     "We should talk about it," he says after he swallows his salmon, reaching for another piece. "The material realm. You've never been there. It is... as different from this as night is to day," he notes. "A motorcycle is a two-wheeled conveyance. Like a bike, only motorized. My brother has one..my older brother," the Oak King, he clarifies. "I'll show it to you, then maybe you can mimic the design. And ...of course...the marketplace. Maybe even tonight, if you wish." It's open around the clock. The hours of commerce never end here.
     "We'll have to use magic sparingly there. It will be a discipline of another kind. Though, if you were to make machinery or...modify it...you may be able to channel it thusly. I will... be living as any other human being. That's what I am." No fairy here, just an extraordinarily magical human.
     Iowerth smiles at your intense look. His eyes sparkle, green pushed to the edges. He finishes his salmon, taking up his glass of wine. "We may have found a brief reprieve from our tenuous situation, but we should not get lazy," he murmurs. "One night, your mother will call for you. And even I may be unable to prevent it. We should...always remember that. Besides, my father lives in the city where we are going. We will...have to avoid revealing our... relationship, even there. And he'll want me to... spend time with him, without my chosen chamberlain to be."
     You'll have your separation. You'll have your moment to want me.
     He suddenly drains the goblet of its wine, setting the vessel aside. "We'll go out tonight," Iowerth whispers. Later... closer to midnight. It will be easier to blend in the shadows, then. And still time enough for us to be able to toss the bed around again." He smiles at that, his lips curling in wicked glee.
     "You'll have to change your wardrobe too, I fear. Many changes on the way, Tiernan. But we'll have one another, oes?" Earlier arousal has not abated. Iowerth sighs, resting back on the pillows. "I'll have more later," supposedly he means the food. "Is there anything you'd like to know about where we're to be going? The city's name is London... it is the capitol city of the nation of England. The royal seat of the United Kingdom."

     "Alright..." Tiernan nods slowly, absorbing this - possibly trying to picture it. "Show me the thing - the device, and I'll see what I can do. If it's something that can be /made/, I should be able to do something about it. I ... don't ... do well with magic, unless it's something I can ... put together," he murmurs, not looking at you for a moment. "It's how it works for me. Tiernan Toymaker, right?"
     And he dismisses it, looking back at you, nodding slightly. "You want to go for a stroll?" He grins. "I ... guess I could do that. Though it'd mean putting something on ..." And he was comfortable, but you know ... if it gives him ideas ...
     Maybe he doesn't need ideas, from the glance he gives you, down along your frame ...
     You will be as you are. I ... will miss you when we are apart, but I'll find things to do. It will be adventurous. A new world for me to explore. Without my mother able to keep me on her leash, even if she does pull me back from time to time. Tiernan nods. It is something upon which he is resolute - confirmed. Decided. And hiding from your father - we'll manage. I'll see what I can do to - further protect our secrets. I am not interested in being killed by the High King for corrupting his son.
     One corner of Tiernan's mouth turns up. Even if you were more corrupting me, considering the weight of experience being in your favour. But I was eager enough. Am eager enough. I want to see what you are like in six months. A year. See where the worlds find us then, Io - but in the meantime? I'm open to anything.
     You go on about London, about clothes, and again his brow furrows. "What's wrong with my clothes? I didn't think they were that bad. Why, what do people wear there? You're not getting me in a dress, I don't care what that one battle unit wears."

     Iowerth cackles. "There's nothing wrong with them. They just don't wear clothes in that style. You'll want to, need to blend in a bit. I'll help with that. Besides... it will be interesting putting you in clothes, when I am so usually the one taking you out of them..."
     Hmm... not right away. Later... yeah? Later, he assures beneath your skin. Iowerth's hand lifts a corner of the sheet, throwing it off to his knees. All it took was that one, simple look, and the earlier teasing arousal blossoms, fruits and ripens. Bloodied and full, his erection stretches against his own stomach.
     Iowerth takes a deep breath, those breaths starting to quicken as he moves his hand over himself. He slides the skin back, revealing the tongues of the seadragons that cover his crown. "Is it too soon?" he whispers. By that smile, you see he expects not.
     I don't know what it is about you. I have never been with someone who made me... just want to encase myself in them as you do me. You look at me... and I need to be on you. In you. I think you have magic other than mechanical.
     One of his muscled thighs falls wide, his leg hanging off the side of the bed. He rolls up onto his knee, his other leg bracing on the floor. It is openly sensual, the stance. A perfect one for you to back into. "Does it bother you that I can't seem to finish a conversation without needing to be bouncing on you?" Iowerth's mouth cuts a crooked smile.
     "I would remind you that ...it's all your fault..." His word ends in a groan, and his hands stop stroking, letting his erection pop against his stomach again. His hand lowers, cupping his orbs and squeezing them. It slows the roar of lust in him. If only slightly...

     "Fine," Tiernan grumbles, though not with any real heat, "I suppose I'll have to wear these ... material clothes, then." And you receive another look, this one with eyes half closed, thoughtful, lazily intent. "Not that I mind..."
     His hands land on you, one on your hip, grasping as the other kneads at your shoulder as he leans in. I don't mind putting on clothes as long as you're the one taking them off me again. I think I said that, didn't I? You pick out what you want to see me in, and I'll get dressed for you. I'll even do it nice and slow.
     His lips brush the corner of your mouth, and he pulls back, hands leaving you only slowly, blue gaze turned downwards to look at your visible erection. And he grins, reaching down, wrapping his hand around you slowly. One finger, two, three, four, and the thumb, furling shut to grasp at you, tugging. "Not too soon," Tiernan murmurs to you confidingly. "And no ... doesn't bother me ... not like that." There is heat moving in his stomach, and he flexes his hips, letting the towel, already loosened, crumple to the floor. "I don't think a steady diet of you could ever fill my appetite. We can argue over whose fault it is later, or I can just admit it ... it's all my fault."
     And he leans in again, for a swift, tearing kiss that slides against your mouth and away. All my fault. I entice you. Draw you. Inflame your appetites. So maybe it's me who's the evil one - wicked, seducing you just by being here, yeah? What's the penalty for seducing the crown prince? I love feeling you under me ... over me ... I can't ever decide which I like better, fucking you or getting fucked. Good thing I don't have to choose...

     So all our conversations devolve. Or is a better word to say 'dissolve'? Words fade like sugar on the tongue once our tongues meet. Maybe you do seduce me. Perhaps these are the shadows that concern my brother, these... tendrils that leave your eyes and stroke against my skin until my cock stands readied.
     Does it really matter? As I kiss you, biting, sucking in wild reply -- I would have to say 'No'. It doesn't matter what it is, just that it is. And everything I have learned until this moment with you in this very chamber, I give it to you freely, gladly. If this is the seduction, if this is the information you wish, my spy... you will have it. More than you need.

Posted by rowan at May 21, 2006 09:56 PM