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rubycruzin4abruzin · 10 months ago

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Forbidden Crown - V

Summary: During a sleepless night, you stumble upon Kit alone in the garden. After making up from your fight, discussions of your future lead to a night of confessions and heated passion.

Pairing: kit tanthalos x princess!reader

Contains: smut!!, oral, light fingering, kissing, first time, outdoor sex, nipple play, confessions, forced marriage trope, nightmares, making up, 18+

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: It’s finally here!! This is not the end. There’s gonna be 2-3 more chapters after this. Also, is this intimacy lowkey beautiful? I had such sappy little feelings writing this.

Not speaking to Kit after your fight was agonizing. Each morning, you woke up and spent the day assisting your mothers with wedding planning while avoiding each other at all costs. You had to admit, you missed her terribly; there were nights you lay awake, wondering if you should go find her and apologize, until you replayed your fight in your mind and anger washed over you once more.

One morning, you had woken up slightly later than usual, and descended the stairs into the Great Hall to find Kit sitting with her mother, accompanied by two men you didn’t recognize. Sorsha chatted with the men excitedly, while Kit sat quietly, wearing a pained and bored expression.

One of the men, identifiable as a diplomatic envoy by his fine garments dyed in Galladoorn green, reached into his satchel, pulled out a document, and slid it over to Sorsha. “I can assure you, your highness, the kingdom of Galladoorn is in high spirits over this alliance. I trust the contractual negotiations are to your liking?”

Sorsha scanned over the document, humming in approval. “Everything seems very fair, yes. My daughter is immensely grateful for the opportunity to marry Prince Graydon, isn’t that right Kit?”

Kit scoffed in response. Sorsha (not-so-gently) nudged her under the table, causing her to stifle a groan and reluctantly nod. With one final nod of satisfaction, Sorsha dipped her quill pen in ink and signed the bottom of the contract, sliding it back across the table.

“All we need is a notarization,” the envoy stated, looking towards his partner. The notary, donning a modest tunic and a feathered hat, took the quill from Sorsha and signed his own name just underneath. He passed it to the envoy to tuck into his satchel, and handshakes were immediately exchanged around the table.

“Prince Graydon is quite eager to make your acquaintance, Princess,” the envoy assured Kit as he shook her hand. “And who could blame him? I would be too if I were betrothed to such a beauteous young maiden.”

He shot her a sly wink, prompting her expression to crumple in disgust. You couldn’t hold back the audible gag that left your throat at his comment, causing Kit to turn in your direction. She met your gaze, finally noticing your presence in the doorway and froze in place.

The finalization of her betrothal should have left you emotional. Normally, you would cause some sort of commotion, or rush over to the envoy to attempt to destroy the contract. Instead, you simply offered Kit a curt nod as you turned away and calmly made your exit.

That night was spent tossing and turning as a recurring nightmare from your fifteenth year overtook you. Familiar fears revisited your subconscious, using recent events to transform into a new horror.

The dream began as usual, with you and Kit making flower bouquets in the Tir Asleen garden. This time however, instead of leading you astray, she offered her bouquet and pulled you in for a sweet kiss. You closed your eyes as you savored the familiar warmth of her soft lips, almost pillowy against your own.

When you pulled away, expecting to see Kit’s shining face, you gasped when Airk suddenly stood before you. Glancing down, you found that once again, a wedding gown had replaced your everyday clothing, and the bouquet Kit gifted you had wilted in your hands. Faceless guests lined chairs in rows, the weight of their stares falling upon you as you stood at the altar.

Behind you stood a priest, wearing a stoic expression as he spoke mechanically. “We are gathered here today in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

“Amen,” chanted the guests in unison, their monotony making your skin crawl.

“Do you,” the priest eyed you. “Take Prince Airk Tanthalos to be your lawful wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?”

“No!” You shrieked, but none of the guests reacted. You tried to break away, but found your hands had been chained to Airk’s. “I cannot take him, please forgive me! I don’t love him!”

You felt someone nudge your shoulder, and turned to see Kit standing behind you. She wore a wedding dress eerily similar to yours, and her hands were bound to another faceless character presumed to be her own groom. Any previous color had been drained from her features, and she spoke with a tone as lifeless as her facial expression.

“Marriage isn’t about love, Princess.”

Once again, you shot up in bed, gasping for breath as you clutched your pounding heart. A quick glance out the window showed a still-black sky, with no indication of the morning sun. You grabbed your pillow and buried your face in it, the linen helping to muffle your frustrated groans.

Fearing a repeat of the nightmare, you decided sleep was futile. Abandoning your bed, you quickly donned your nightrobe and prepared for an insomnia-induced stroll through the castle.

Cool January wind pricked your face as you ventured outside. Usually, you would wrap your nightrobe tighter around yourself, but tonight, you welcomed the cold air as a distraction from the whirlwind of thoughts plaguing your mind.

You wandered the castle grounds with a lantern in hand, your feet inadvertently guiding you towards the Tir Asleen garden. Yielding to your subconscious, you sought solace among the shrubs and snowdrops. Just as you reached the gated entrance, a soft rustle echoed from within the garden. You froze as you saw a shadowy figure shift in the distance, fearing you had stumbled upon an intruder.

With a trembling hand, you raised your lantern to reveal the figure. Your heart skipped a beat when Kit’s face came into view, sitting beneath the tree where you shared your first childhood kiss. Neither of you dared to speak. With a sigh, you turned to leave, reaching for the gate latch.

“Wait…” she called out.

You paused, hand still on the gate. Kit looked at you with pleading eyes, hugging her knees to her chest. “Please don’t go…”

Pity washed over you, overriding any lingering anger. Kit appeared like a wounded bird: fragile, frail, a fragment of her former self. You approached and settled opposite her, facing but keeping your body pointed away.

Silence enveloped you both. You continued to study Kit’s newfound decrepitude as she rested her head on her knees. The lantern you had set aside highlighted her dark circles, shadowed like bruised fruit yet to ripen.

“I have so much to apologize for,” she murmured eventually, her voice coming out soft and meek. Lifting her head, she tucked her chin between her knees but avoided your gaze. “I really, truly do. I’ve been so… angry, and I took it out on you.”

“Why me?” You asked sincerely. “Have I done something to offend you? Because if so…”

She shook her head, cutting you off. “There was no order, no reason. I was hurt… and I wanted someone else to feel that hurt… and you were there. That’s all.”

You continued to stare, resisting the urge to reach out and soothe her tousled hair. Instead, you remained still, waiting for her to speak again.

“I was so lost in my own despair, I neglected to consider your distress,” she continued. “I’ve been so contrite, but I don’t expect your forgiveness. I’d understand if you were to loathe me.”

She didn’t need to beg; you crawled over and wrapped your arms around her. “I could never loathe you.”

Kit looked up, her big blue eyes brimming with tears. “You couldn’t?”

“Of course not,” you reassured her. “I love you.”

The word slipped out before you could stop it, the one word neither of you had uttered to each other before. You froze, feeling her tense in your arms. Those brilliant baby blues, the ones you had fallen for, continued to stare up at you, but you refused to meet them.

“You do?” She asked, disbelief coloring her tone.

You bit your lip, nervously playing with the ends of her short locks. She studied your features for a moment before a sly smirk spread across her own. Reaching behind her neck, she grasped your hand and pulled you into a captivating kiss. Your lips immediately melted into hers, engulfed in the familiar warmth you craved during her absence. She snaked her free hand around your waist, and you reciprocated by clutching the fabric of her nightshirt, both of you desperate to draw closer.

It was her who finally broke the kiss, pulling away with a sigh. “I love you too, if that wasn’t clear,” she chuckled lazily.

“It was,” you giggled, still a bit dizzy. Unsure of what to do next, you made a feeble attempt at a joke. “Such a pity marriage isn’t about love, isn’t it?”

Kit’s smile vanished instantly, guilt returning to her widened eyes. “I didn’t—“

“No, no, you were right,” you cut her off, repositioning so your head could lean against her chest. “Marriage isn’t about love…” you admitted sadly, regretting your jest. “Though… it should be…”

The last sentence was murmured under your breath, but Kit heard it anyway. She stared off into the distance, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as she contemplated her next words. “I’ve heard whispers…” she began.

You glanced up at her, curious. “Whispers?”

“Of other kingdoms, far more… advanced than ours. More innovative. More… accepting.”

Turning to face her, your expression twisted with confusion and disbelief. “Kit… what exactly are you suggesting?”

She took your hands in hers as she carefully surveyed your features. “I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to watch you walk down the aisle to my brother. I don’t want to marry Graydon, or any man, or anyone else but you…”

“Kit…” you interrupted gently, urging her to get to the point.

She sighed, squeezing your hands. “I want you to come with me.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. “Where?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted with a smile. “Somewhere that will allow us to be together, somewhere that isn’t here.”

“Kit…” you began, shaking your head in disbelief. “Surely you’re not suggesting we… run away?”

“Not immediately,” she assured you, brow furrowing in thought. “It will take some time. We’ll need a plan. Some essentials. Research on different kingdoms and villages. We could even flee to an African country! I’ve read of societies that encourage the union between two women…”

“Kit,” you cut her off with a chuckle as you tried to be the voice of reason. “How could we possibly get to Africa?”

“We’ll devise a way!” A crazed smile crossed her face as she pulled you closer. “In the worst of perils, we’ll retreat to the Wildwood and live as simple woodswomen!”

Your expression turned serious. “But our kingdoms. Our responsibilities. Even if we were to flee to a different kingdom, we wouldn’t be princesses. We would be common villagers. You wouldn’t harbor the same power you do here, Kit.”

Kit simply sent you a lopsided grin. “Perhaps that wouldn’t be such a terrible thing.”

A defeated sigh left your lips as you searched her expression for humor, but found none. “You’re truly serious about this?”

All the love and admiration in the world couldn’t compare to the way she gazed at you. “I’ve never been more serious about anyone my entire life.”

There was nothing you could do to stop the way your heart lurched at her words. You nodded. “Alright.”

“Alright?”

“The weddings aren’t until next month. We can use that time to plan and leave the night before.”

Kit grabbed your face and pressed her nose to yours with an excited giggle. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you whispered joyously before crashing your lips into hers. She eagerly reciprocated, grabbing handfuls of your hair in an attempt to draw you closer. Your arms encircled her, fingernails clawing at the back of her nightshirt as if you were underwater, desperately seeking a surface.

She moved atop you, swinging her leg over until she straddled your hips. The tree bark pressed against your back, scratching against your nightclothes like a scribe’s quill on parchment. Her lips traveled to your jaw, rolling your sensitive flesh between her teeth and eliciting soft moans from deep within your throat.

“Kit…” the name fell from your mouth in short gasps. Her hands were everywhere, roaming your body with the urgency of a desert traveler seeking water. Each brush, every gentle caress burned at your core, causing your body to tremble under her touch.

Desperate for release, your hips instinctively bucked against hers. You expected her to pull away, as she had when you were teenagers. She didn’t. Instead, her moans filled your mouth and vibrated against your lips.

You were the one to pull away, panting heavily as you pressed against her shoulders. “K-Kit? Are you… I mean… is this alright?”

Kit seemed to be lost in a daze. Her pretty pink lips were slick with spit and parted slightly as she fought to catch her breath. “I love you, Princess,” she began. “I long to share the remainder of my days… every fiber of my being with you. But only if you’ll allow me.”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t have to. All you needed to do was sit up and pull her into a tender kiss to convey your agreement. Her hands wandered to your midsection, untying your nightrobe and slipping it off your shoulders. All that remained between you and her was your thin nightgown. She traced the hem with her fingers, looking to you for permission. You nodded, shifting to allow her to pull it up over your shoulders before casting it aside.

Kit gazed upon your naked body as if it were a work of art sculpted by the Greek gods. She layed you back down, gently lowering your head unto the base of the tree as the cool grass tickled your bare skin. Her visage could only be defined as lovesick. “Will you tell me if I should stop?”

A breathless sigh escaped your lips. “I can’t imagine I’ll want you to.”

“Promise me,” she insisted, and you saw her request for what it was. Behind her hungry stares, amidst her growing need was a real, genuine pursuit of consent. You nodded, agreeing, and she was on you again.

Her lips traversed beneath your jawline, leaving a trail of kisses before stopping at your chest. “Continue?”

“Please,” you purred.

She took one of your breasts in her hand, pinching the erect bud. The soft sounds that elicited from your throat could have been enough to cease her heart’s beating. Her mouth found its way to your other breast, suckling at your swollen nipple with careful curiosity.

You groaned as your hand flew to the top of her head. “Kit… please don’t tease…”

Removing herself from your bosom was a task that Kit was initially reluctant to do, but soon complied after your hips began rolling into her once more. She resumed peppering kisses down your torso, pausing just above your mons. “Surely you’d like to stop now?”

You gave her a small laugh, shaking your head. “Far from it.”

With a serious determination, Kit dragged her index finger up the length of your wet folds, noting the way your breath hitched when she came in contact with your clit. Lowering her head, she squinted to observe the pink pearl, barely visible in the dim lantern light, which seemed to sweeten your sounds. She experimented with her fingertips once more, gently encircling your clit with the fascination of a honeybee drawn to a blossoming flower.

“Kit…” you growled, hips chasing her touch.

Your novice lover couldn’t help but marvel at the way your juices glistened on her skin. Overcome with intrigue, she stuck her slick-covered finger in her mouth, moaning at the taste.

“Is it pleasing?” You asked.

“Very,” she replied. “Like a salted peach.”

It didn’t take long for Kit to dive into you like a woman starved, using her tongue to explore every inch of your wet slit. She didn’t know what she was doing, but she was a determined and fast learner, each breath, each shift, each guttural cry from your throat helping her to gauge your needs and proceed from there.

Soon, amidst your labored breaths and electric shocks of pleasure came an unfamiliar sensation deep inside your pelvis, as if someone had wound a spring tightly around your muscles. “K-Kit…” you sputtered. “It feels quite tense…”

Kit groaned in recognition, murmuring something akin to ‘the lewd literature.’ She spoke while her mouth was still on you, each word vibrating against your core and adding to the stimulation. “Breathe, beautiful. You’re doing so well. Trust me, lean into it, it’ll feel so good.”

You did as you were told, relaxing your muscles and leaning into the powerful sensations. The way Kit looked up at you as she lapped at your folds only spurred you forward, nearer, closer to wherever you were going. It wasn’t long before a burst of warmth exploded in your abdomen, causing your legs to tremble and your vision to blur. You squeezed your thighs together against her head, ragged breaths pleading with her to stay right where she was as you rode out your climax.

Kit lifted her head up once your breathing evened out, grinning up at you with a mouth coated in your slick. “Was that alright?”

“More than,” you assured her, still panting. “Much more than.”

She crawled back up to you and tenderly brought her lips to yours. Hints of your arousal still lingered on her tongue, irrefutable evidence of the events that just transpired. You hummed as she pulled back, goofy, embarrassing grins spread across both of your faces.

“Shall I return the favor?” You asked, trying to be seductive but your eyelids were drooping heavily.

Kit chuckled, taking your face in her hands. “At a later time,” she responded, thumbing the dark rings under your eyes. “It appears we both could use some sleep.”

Too tired to argue, you let your head fall back onto Kit’s chest. She smirked, reaching for your discarded nightrobe and draping it over both of you. Her arm settled upon your shoulders as she nestled into your hair, planting a kiss on your head. “Sleep well, Princess.”

That night, you both slept in the Tir Asleen garden, intertwined under the tree’s protective branches until the first light of dawn crested the horizon.

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