The night passed with great aplomb, with the applause of lapping sea water against the body of the midnight colored vessel. This ship is a night ship, it sails beneath the moon. By day, it and the other pirate ships are moored, or taking shelter.
Avalon Bay is a distant dream by this day. You have traveled far. Outside the bedroom windows exists the view of three small islands, the biggest of which is in the center, a curved crescent shape. Perhaps this is the Island of the Crescent Moon as hailed by the dragons when you first boarded.
The waters here are the color of Iowerth's eyes, sea-foam green and beneath the waves, streaks of coral in periwinkle and lavender. The shore ahead -- for the ship is still in the open water, not past the breaks that separate the bay of the islands and the sea -- is white sand, as white as his skin. It is mountainous, that island, as most islands are being themselves the tips of other mountains. But the basalt rock is dark blue, with brilliant green forests.
Not many have ever seen these islands, fewer still by the light of day. You are, therefore, afforded a great treat. The islands of the crown prince displayed for your viewing pleasure...
...and so also is the body of the crown prince himself...
He is sleeping, the slow rise and fall of his belly, his chest confirm this. His naked body is tangled in the midnight silk sheets and duvet, one leg lying wide, sticking out of the covers and hanging off the edge of the bed. His other is bent widely beneath the covers. His torso is turned, twisted, a hand beneath a pillow, his face turned away from the light, desperately trying to eek out more sleep. Like father, like son...
He's arranged himself on his side, propped on an elbow and watching you sleep. The sheets are tangled about his legs, not particularly for modesty as happenstance. He is relaxed; luxuriating in being so near to you, in the feeling of having had you, been had by you. Slowly, one hand splays against your chest, a gentle, feather-light stroke of fingers against your skin.
How can I love you so much? So far, so fast, I've fallen. I've plunged off a precipice. I might be able to catch myself yet, but ... I don't know that I want to.
So much depends on you. How can I ask you to take on yet more? I can't, and at the same time, I have no choice. But - I can't predict what you'll say.
Funny, that this fear makes me want to hide instead of facing it. But I'll face it. To do anything else would be to be untrue to myself, and my world is filled with falsehood enough...
His hand lifts, moving to cup your cheek, a tender movement. Tiernan brushes his lips against your cheek, then sits up. "You must be hungry," he murmurs to you. "I know I am. Where's this banquet you promised me, anyway? I can drag some plates in, if you don't want to move."
I am a coward... but then, I wouldn't spring it on you. You look so much like someone I want to protect...
His skin does not jump as you touch him, but his eyes blink open. Sea-green and lavender. They sparkle, then focus, then close again as Iowerth's body twists in a great stretch, accompanied by a great sound. A sound not unlike he made last night when he was beneath you.
And suddenly he seems like he has several arms as you are wrapped up. "Hmm," a breath made audible, "... it's in here already..." You are so coherent. So...horribly awake. Iowerth kisses your shoulder, then lifts his head. Another audible breath -- this one carries a tangle of words.
The smell of food permeates the entire chamber. Smoked salmon, fresh baked biscuits, butter, cream, cream cheese and sweet honeyed drink. There is fruit and hot tea, toast and jam. There are skewered prawns and tropical fruit already grilled and waiting.
It's good having the King of Bounty as your father. You shall never starve...
Iowerth's stomach growls loudly. He lifts his head. "Hmmm... I am hungry. You do not have to serve...but... if you don't mind," comes the drawl coupled with a lazy grin. I would rather not get up.
He cannot help himself. His mouth parts at your shoulder, tasting your skin. Iowerth's tongue swaths against you. He will not kiss your mouth, he would not taste good nor likely you, but he cannot help the nuzzle. So...how are you going to get up from this tangle?
Your rumbling belly is echoed, first in his stomach and then in his throat. His arms go around you as yours wind about him, and he chuckles. "So you bring the food in and then you won't let me up to go eat it? Come on. Let's eat. We can get back in bed after if you want, but if we do, we probably won't get out today."
He speaks truth, doesn't he? A hand lifts, drags against your scalp, giving your hair a little tug. This is so comfortable; such immediate intimacy. Tiernan sighs quietly. "You've shaken my world, prince of the seas." Your forehead is kissed, and then he nudges at your shoulders, seeking to extricate himself. "I'll get food. We can eat on the bed or on the floor - wherever you want. Besides, I want to talk to you."
And kiss you. And fuck you. And be fucked by you. Except with you, I can't think of it that way. We fuck, but we make love. You drag my emotions too much to the surface, you know that?
Blue eyes as blue as the sky without the ship peer at you, and then there's a little grin. "You already know I'm susceptible to you," Tiernan drawls, his hands sliding back and forth on your shoulders, one hand rubbing at the nape of your neck. "You don't need to keep proving it."
A fiery eyebrow lifts and Iowerth smirks. "It is not about proof, it is about compulsion." The smirk becomes a smile as Iowerth rolls back to lie on the bed. He makes a grand stretch, arms above his head, body twisting. "In the bed would be good."
Iowerth sits up, folding back the covers to reveal himself. He rises, his body waking (so you can see) and he wanders to the large captain's bath. Such opulent quarters. The bath is no exception. Large windows let the light roar in like a storm of illumination. His hair falls against his nape, copper flames in short but layered waves. He looks over a tattooed shoulder to you as he stands at the captain's head.
"So what would you like to talk about?" he begins. He takes the golden lever, pulling it as it turns around, morning release complete. It flushes out to sea. Lovely. Well, it has to go somewhere. Iowerth heads for the sink, rinsing out his mouth, the taste of last night to be replaced with the taste of right now.
He stands up, following you into the bath and wrapping his arms around you from behind. He is happy to see you. Yes. Then you are released, after one brief grope to your groin (he had to cop a feel), and Tiernan wanders back to the food and begins setting up a couple of plates.
Talk? Oh, right. That. "Well," Tiernan begins, "there's plenty to talk about. There's us, you know." He shrugs a little, plucking salmon onto the plates, buttering biscuits and moving rather on from there. You are young men, and neither of you is precisely small. Food is needed. "My mother. Me. You. Your family." He sucks jam off his thumb and forefinger where it's slid over the edge of a biscuit, glancing at you.
There is my desire for you. My love of you. There you are, as beautiful as anything I've ever seen - you move me, and I can't put it into words. But I've got to try...
Tiernan lifts the plates, jiggling them and belatedly adding forks and draping a pair of napkins over one forearm. "I want to stay," he says plainly. "But we need to discuss it, don't we? You ... me ... us."
This part is the same no matter if you're with a woman or a man. The Talk. The Big Talk. It involves The Future. Normally, he keeps his thoughts of the future contained to discovery, of adding to the fabric and structure of the dreams of this place.
But now there is you... and there is a new, joint future...
Iowerth leans a moment on the easing of the bath's doorway before coming into the chamber and to the buffet. He loads up another plate. One ... even two will not be enough for such boys as you. Young men, and growing daily. "A lot of topics to cover," comes the wry tone. "Where should we begin...?"
Iowerth makes a sound in his throat, a sound of consideration. "I would like you to stay, too." His plate becomes quickly loaded of all manners of things. As much as there is to eat, it would seem. A hearty sample of all things. "Oh, and the tea is good. It is dragonsblood tea, spicy," he notes quietly. "But you put honey and cream in it, and it tames it right down."
Leaning in to you, he places a kiss upon your temple before taking half the banquet with him, whatever you yourself haven't taken. It's quite the vision. The naked crown prince carrying a plateful of food back to bed. He places it upon the nightstand, twisting to look at you.
"The question is: how can we do this without putting you and my mother's kingdom at jeopardy. Your mother's work against my own... well, I cannot and will not be complicit in it. I can't have you as a spy in her kingdom. It is bad enough that we both know she is actively working on such. Among other things..."
"We will have to conspire against her for your freedom or your joy, I'm afraid. And will likely need assistance doing it. Either you betray her with subterfuge or direct defection. But either way, Tiernan, to love me is to turn away from her. There's no avoiding that..."
The politician in him says it so plainly. The lover, however, wears his concern on his face for you to see. "It is a hard situation for you. And it concerns me..."
Plates are laid out on the bed, napkins tossed next to the plates, and he waves away tea for now. "I'll drink after." Alcohol, probably, considering the discussion. Tiernan sighs again, a long, drawn-out sound, and he bounces once on the bed as he settles on it with a creak.
He leans up against the headboard, looking to you without hiding his eyes, without turning away. "I know," Tiernan says quietly. "I can't be a spy, anyway. I can be subtle and all - I could be a spy, I'm capable of it, I have the skills for it, but ... not for her."
He shudders, one hand rubbing at his inner thigh, covering the new mark and the old one. He did not comment on it last night, and he does not comment on it now, hiding it from your view with his palm. "I already do love you. You know who I am, Iowerth." Your name is not shortened, and those blue eyes look at you. They are guarded, shielding now his emotions from you; absorbing them inwards where you will not easily read them, so that he may speak without self-interruption.
"I don't like it. The thought of betraying her - it's not something I do gladly, but she is a selfish queen," Tiernan says quietly. He takes a deep breath. "Maybe ... I knew it, of course, but I don't think it really meant anything until coming here. Things are very different here from the world I've always known." He rubs absently at his thigh again, ignoring the food for the moment. His other hand rubs at his ribs, where the rest of his crescent markings are. "But... breaking away and staying, or not and returning... it's a hard thing."
He admits it to you, and now his gaze flickers away from you, focusing nowhere in particular. "I love you. I do want to stay. Being apart from you when I knew you would be back was Hell, to me. I was a sleepwalker, going through the motions, surly and defiant and then - brought back into line, working to be 'perfect'. So that I could persuade my mother that she likes me and there's no reason to increase any guard or anything. And I did a good job, you know."
Tiernan looks back to you, then sighs, exhaling and lifting his hand from his ribs to rub his eyes. He pinches the bridge of his nose for a moment. "But I would not be able to decide to do anything without knowing what you want. If I leave her ... it's you I'm leaving her for, Io. I will be committing myself to you - drake's teeth, I'll be committing myself fully for the first time in my life. And - it is frightening. But I could do it. And I would, if you ... wanted it."
He is almost aloof, despite the words, drawing away from you, within himself. Do you see it for what it is? Do you know how much the words are costing him? His heart, cut into slivers and laid upon a board for your choosing as if you were a customer in a butcher's shop. He cannot help sounding indifferent. Will you reject some or all of him? What will you do? What will you say?
"The future's very big, Io. And our situation's strange," Tiernan says softly. "I probably sound like a girl in this, but there's a leap into the unknown no matter what I do in this. I can do that. I just need to know there's something for me to land on."
I'll fall alone ... if you'll catch me at the bottom...
Will you be waiting...
He sees where you rub. He looks at the marks, your hand covering them, the fingers how they rub the marks even as he sucks the honey from his own fingertips. "I think we are going to have to move slowly, Tiernan. I do not like you having to commit open rebellion. It's... too soon for that. Feelings are present... between us. We know this. But for you to just chuck it all or declare war? After a month? No," he shakes his head. "We cannot be rash here..."
It is not in his nature to be. Decisive, yes. Rash? Never. Nor is there punishment for your withdrawal, for does not he also take a step back in his own consideration? How else would he be half so calculated?
Iowerth looks at you, exhaling. "The future is very big, it is also very wide. The length and breadth of it ...unending. It is open before us. I think we should proceed at a stride though it, not at a gallop. It is precarious, your situation... mine, less so. It is not fair for you to have to do all of the falling, all of the sacrifice. We will have to ... try to find a middle country in all of this...and it will take time to sort out."
Iowerth looks at the plate of food now on his lap. "She punishes you whenever you are gone," he says it flatly. "Even now, she is planning where her next mark will go, isn't she." He frowns deeply, his eyebrows drawing inward. He exhales again. "I do care for you... and I think it is love's beginning, as much as I know about love." He chuckles suddenly. "Having never felt it before. I don't want to crush it, Tiernan," Iowerth says so earnestly, setting the plate aside and turning to you, "...under the weight of this...enormity. Choking it out like a fire in a windstorm, before it can really take hold. Before it can grow in us... and we... experience it in one another. I want to ...with you. And you're the first person I've ever felt this way about. I don't want to jeopardize that."
Do you understand? If we move too quickly, we will kill it as surely as our parents were they to find out about it. "We must be careful," he whispers. "As torturous as it will be. We will...have to find a way in between." Iowerth kisses you and then sits back on the bed, giving his weight to the pillows and headboard.
"Have you thought of hiring yourself out...as a mercenary?" He rolls his head toward you on the cushion. "Or studying abroad. Is there...anything you think you will be able to do, or convince her of, short of treason?"
He nods to what you are saying. He does not disagree. Love is fine, but there's more to this than emotion; it is precarious. The way is lined with traps.
"It will take time," Tiernan murmurs. "I know this. My instincts make me want to rebel, of course, but ... I know this. I have been considering options. Trying to figure out which will be most acceptable to her - and to us; which she is most likely to accept, agree to. Which I can make her think is her own idea."
You look at your food and you speak of punishments, and for a moment, he looks away. "Not whenever I am gone. I do not receive marks every time I disobey her; not every time I defy her. I would have no white skin left on me, if she were quite as quick as that." If she were, he would not be who he is, perhaps, and his readiness to betray her would be likely all the greater.
"This disappearance... yes, she probably is considering it." She will not be able to find me. She will not be able to get word to me, or summon me - I am out of her range. "I may be able to talk my way out of it, even turn it to our advantage by letting her think it was on your insistence, that you wished your very good friend to accompany you. I have managed to turn her thoughts to where she has encouraged me to deepen our friendship."
Tiernan's mouth curves wryly. Yes, mother, but this deep you never expected it'd go, did you? Nor where it has gone. "As a mercenary, I'd be of little use. I can fight; the court's a dangerous place to be, after all. But it's more ... it's subtler than that, usually. Poisons. Assassinations. Character assassination, leading to executions. If I were not her son, I'd be dead, and everyone says so. There are two ways of remaining which have thus far occurred to me."
He picks up one of the plates quickly, lifting it onto his lap. It covers the new mark nicely. "One is to persuade her that my remaining close to you will allow me to, when you more or less officially take up duties, influence matters of state. Right now she doesn't expect you're involved much in the level of politics that she's taken to wanting to know about; but thinking for the future, well." Tiernan shrugs, picking up his fork and skewering a shrimp, looking down at it. "The other would be to manipulate the political situation here where I would be expected to remain as a royal hostage."
His eyebrows arch as you mention hostage. His eyes look at you for a moment, then he shakes his head. "Unless you had committed some offense, a true offense... I could not keep you more than a few days, Tiernan. My mother and father would not brook such from me. We are not the... hostage-taking type. At least not in times of peace. Were your mother to declare war, now that would be a different matter altogether."
He does not remark upon your mother or the marks past what you have admitted. He does not push the issue. He worries for you. "There ... is a web out there working for us today. I ... called in a favor. Several favors. While she is frustrated, no doubt, you have been seen. I have been seen. Today we are sleeping off our latest round of ...infamy." He smirks at that.
"We are not going to be able to answer this question today," Iowerth notes, reaching to take something from your plate on your lap. It is like eating from your lap. He grins at the thought, eyes glimmering. Next best to eating you...
"My family is a much different matter. It is more...personal than political. They are... loving but...can be rather intrusive. The High King is loving, but blunt ... strict... and opposed to homosexual relationships. Between men." Eyebrows sweep upward again. "My father is quite old. Eight centuries by mortal reckoning. He has... very old notions of how men should be. My mother is a very modern woman. She ... might be able to help us conspire. I will have to consider the possibility. Maybe she can ... provide a royal avenue... a more official avenue for your remaining."
But...
"But... your mother's work in her kingdom may make her...hesitate to provide that assistance." Hesitant if not out and out against it. "That is the political danger. Well, and to have a son who would be ... branded a homosexual...and therefore useless in terms of heirs. Naturally, I will marry, I will have children, this changes none of that. And I have no problem with women, fucking women. I just... don't relate to them." He looks at you. "I guess... even beyond all of this is whether or not you can live with that reality, Tiernan. That I will have my role, that I will have to wive. It is...so far into the future as to be fantasy, yet... it is a certainly, eventually."
After picking at the food, eating a biscuit then setting the plate aside, Iowerth sighs. "My father will not take to it at all. I do not know what he would do. My brothers..." He looks at you. "My brothers can be trusted, Tiernan. Such notions, I realize, are strange to you. I do not blame you for your nervousness in my saying so. But... it is true."
He is a good listener, not given to blustering or rising readily to react. He eats while you talk, filling his belly and not wasting time. Why not multitask?
You speak, and he pops a morsel of smoked salmon in his mouth, following it with a bite of biscuit. Finally, he has things of his own to say; chasing a dropped bit of butter with the biscuit's edge, Tiernan nods slowly. "I have no interest in inheriting my mother's kingdom as it presently stands. I - there are things I will not discuss, will not reveal, unless I must. Until we know if I am breaking away from her finally and for good." That is left to stand on the sideboard, and he continues, eyes downcast to his plate. "I don't really understand your family," he admits quietly, "but I have no brothers. Or sisters. So I'll take your word on it. If my mother ever had other children, she probably ate them."
Then there is the matter of marriage, and children, and you receive a strange look. "Well, of course you'll have to marry," Tiernan says calmly. "You're the crown prince and heir, that goes with the territory. Women're alright, I suppose, but you just can't talk to them. I've never fucked one, but then, until I met you, I'd never fucked anybody, so that's not very relevant. Besides, as long as mother's around, she'd probably find out and take it out on the girl. Well, she does that now, anyway. I just want to keep her from taking it out on me. And having you, there's not much temptation, is there."
He is reminded again that he was your first. He did not realize that, of course, until you said it the other night. He had supposed he was your first man, but not the...first of all things. "Communication is difficult," he concurs with that. "I don't understand them, by and large. What motivates them." Women, he means.
"But that is... a future with which we do not have to deal presently. Thank god," Iowerth chuckles, his eyes brightening. He reaches over to your plate, taking more of the salmon. "You do have a soft place to land... and a hard place too," he notes, finally answering that concern. You have my bed and my heart. These will always be open to you. For now... I suggest that we return... I ...do not want to endanger you any more than I already have."
All respites for us, dear Tiernan, shall be brief, I fear.
"But...tonight... we will return at cover of darkness...not now." No, not now. "I ... want more time with you," Iowerth admits. "As for our...situation... take time to consider the avenues best for you. I must leave that to your choosing. It is your life. If you can turn your mother on promises to be faithful and...to ... love her... by bringing me to her... so be it. Find a way. Just...be careful, Tiernan. Knowing how cruel she can be..." He worries. "If you need to take asylum in the end, then come to me... and I will make the way clear for you to do so."
A picture fills his brain, one that makes him shift upon the bed. He rises, even as his cock begins to swell at such thoughts, to pour himself a drink. And you too. "Brandy? Maybe we could do with getting drunk and forgetting about all of this for a while." He laughs suddenly. "My brothers would be shocked to hear me say it... I am the ...cool, aloof and calculating one. The one who has no fun at all," Iowerth preaches with such a serious face.
"Whatever I promise her, I will never betray you to her. Once she is far away, if need be, and less able to strike at me, I will renounce her," Tiernan says simply, setting aside his plate and catching your hand. "But it may not be necessary." He closes his eyes, suddenly.
No...
I do not want to return to that court, not even to become its king. With its shadows and its mazes, with the labyrinthine cruelty of its people. To the challenges, the torture, the games.
I have better things I could be doing...
Your hand is lifted, and he tugs you, ignoring the presence of those plates. Yes. I will tell him, there is sudden decision in his eyes. I will tell him, and see what he says. His arms wrap around you, holding you close to him.
A moment taken, your scent inhaled, your warmth felt. "When she is far from here," Tiernan whispers in your ear, "there is ... something I would ask of you... if you're willing..."
He directs your hand, now, dragging it down along his ribs, then pressing your palm against his thigh. The marks. "I would ... like it if you would ... do what pleases you best with these," Tiernan murmurs softly against your ear. "Think of it as a - transferral." My fealty to you, not her. The one with whom I intend to remain.
He settles back, then, your black-haired lover, folding his arms behind his head. "Brandy," Tiernan agrees, "though weren't you going to show me your island? It's pretty from here, but I imagine it's more stunning out there."
He pours two healthy glasses of brandy. "We will go out at night. It is better at night," he mentions. "I do not have much of a palace yet... my skills are just... I am still learning. But I have created certain...amenities you might like."
He brings the glasses back to the bed. He takes the plates, he sets them aside. All of this in silence. All of this with that intensity building once more. His thought... he doesn't share it... but it has moved on, his body outwardly relaxing. Somewhat.
Iowerth is quiet as he rejoins you on the bed. He rejoins you at your side. He takes his glass back in his grasp and brings it with him. All the while, saying nothing. But his eyes are on your marks. His right hand returns to the new one upon your thigh.
"We will change them together, Tiernan," Iowerth finally answers. He takes a swallow of brandy and leans across your body to set his glass on your side. He comes to cover you, his body settling on yours. "Together," he whispers.
Posted by rowan at May 13, 2006 08:56 PM
