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Marriage Troubles [Consort AU] Pt. I

FEATURING : PRINCE DAISUKE YUICHI (OC) x CONSORT male reader

An arranged marriage doesn't always go well. Daisuke Yuichi finds himself engaged to a foreign man for the sake of global peace. What he thought was a well-mannered man was a venomous snake once its shed. Just how long will our prince withstand rebellious remarks from our bold reader?

morally grey reader, angry sex, profile

Find out more under the cut!

"It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife."

Well that wouldn't be far from the truth. The older man dressed in regal clothing wondered why was that famous quote stamped behind the cover of a children's book.

Mimicking the atmosphere of the early morning, the ambience in the room, corners carved stone, marble-plated floor reflected the owner itself. A young child in a loose white gown sat clad in the man's lap. His black glinting eyes skimming through the words of the book that he barely knew half of the meaning to.

"Now now Daisuke, would you like me to continue last night's story or will we have it back at the start?" The man, who had similar black hair and eyes, even their faces were identical, smiled down at the child who enthusiastically flipped the pages back and forth.

The child, Daisuke Yuichi, looked up to him with a gleam. "Start over please, father!" His gummy smile made his father flutter inside as he kissed the crown of his hair.

"As you wish, my child. Long ago, there was a kingdom, grandeur and divine with its posessions, their territory vast and protected, their people happy and full. And the kingdom had a prince!" The man looked down at his son and whispered. "That's you."

Daisuke grinned, as if he hadn't heard this story for the nth time. "And the prince was kind and handsome, well-loved by his king and well-loved by the subjects."

The story continued to weave through its plot, a young prince and his adventures in the kingdom and Daisuke listened attentively to his father's calming narrative voice. It wasn't until the romance had kicked in that he was excited the most.

"And far, far away...there was a princess." Daisuke squealed, covering his face as he wooed over the 2D drawing of a blonde pink-dressed princess on the page. "The princess, amazed by the prince's brave gesture, fell for the prince as she bestowed her hand."

"The prince took her hand, placing a gentle loving kiss on her ring finger, and they went to both kingdoms. With hope to unite their love and their kingdoms together." The man swiped his son's hair back, caressing his strands softly as he turned the last page.

"The prince and princess married and lived happily ever after!"

Daisuke cheered, reading the last printed page as he leaned back onto his father. "Will I find a princess one day?" The man kissed his son's hair again. "I'm sure you'll have no trouble finding a spouse. A fine young man you'll be and with it, a fine young princess will come to be."

The child turned around in his father's hold, the morning light now bright and lightening up the room.

Daisuke smiled to himself, while hugging his father, his heart full of hope and dream to find love too. Love as pure as a swan's feather and as sweet as a birthday cake. Ever since, he yearned for his fated one to unite with him as long years had come to pass by.

The room had changed, furnitures replaced with more mature ones, a large regal couch and a marble coffee table in the middle. A big vanity across his bed with bedside table customised with gold and silver, all gifted and bestowed by his father, the emperor of their kingdom.

Fifteen years had passed and the once child had now grown into a fine young man. Said man was adjusting his white cravat with a pin holding a Tourmaline gem at its center.

"What do I have in store for today?" His voice was rich, deep while showcasing the youth he had but the tone mature and intelligent as a scholar.

"His Majesty requests for your audience for morning tea later in half an hour. Then, a few of the ministers will be present in the West Wing. Your Highness will have a chance to confer while on the way to meet the Council's Representative. Lessons are as normal, horse riding with the instructor in the evening and lastly,"

The royal secretary closed his leather book, adjusting his glasses. Two guards were also stationed in the room, an iron plate on their chests with the kingdom's insignia with a few other maids working about and all of them knew what the secretary was about to say.

"Your Highness' meeting with your betrothed."

Silence followed, some of the staffs peeking to see what expression the man was feigning. Daisuke smiled, satisfied with his cravat. "Thank you, Sir Ivan. I'm off to meet my father then." All of them bowed to their waists, as Daisuke walked out of the room, his footsteps echoing in the halls.

It wasn't a secret that he was recently engaged with another, a foreigner from another kingdom. Not royal but still of high society.

"I sincerely hope you are faring well with the news. If you wish to find another, then I will engage with Emperor Aurelius to form another treaty-"

"All is fine, father." Daisuke smiled, sipping at the cup of tea with the emperor across him sitting in the lounge furniture. His father, the emperor pursed his lips, his face was showing telltale signs of age but he was still strong as the sovereign of the kingdom. His heart worries for his son.

"I'm sure we'll match well together. Regardless of the circumstances." Daisuke had a polite expression, respecting his father and his choices for their reign.

Two kingdoms, from the North East and the West wanted to align with one another. However, due to conflicting politics and past histories, the easiest way for peace is a hand in marriage.

Similar to the East, there was only one heir to the throne in the West so Daisuke, the prince of the North East had to marry a son of the duke. Daisuke had never met nor heard of the man. It wasn't uncommon for emperors to take in male concubines but it wasn't the norm for them to marry a man either.

Daisuke didn't mind the status, he just hoped that his first marriage would go well, unlike his father's and the previous Empress.

Time passed and after congratulations from politicians and acquaintances alike, the time had come for him to meet his fiance. He was again adorned in a royal blue suit with tassels and gems as he stood at the steps of the palace, to greet the arrival of his engaged.

"...I think we should step inside, Your Highness." His loyal knight prodded, unable to see the face Daisuke was expressing. It had been some time and the sun was dimming, signaling nightfall and his fiance and the West delegates were still not showing any signs of approach.

In other words, he had been stood up.

"...Let's." There was a slight irritation in his voice before he recomposed himself, thanking his attendants and his knights for waiting beside him for naught.

Even the dinner that was supposed to be between him and his fiance was cancelled and words reached his ears that the entourage had encroached 'unforeseen circumstances' and will be residing elsewhere other than the palace.

It was disrespectful, arrogant almost to discredit the efforts of the royals, although the secretary had been the one to arranged, but Daisuke ultimately decided to give the benefit of the doubt to his fiance. Even the dinner he that he ate alone, that was supposed to have with his fiance tasted stale. He laid in his bed, his heart beating out of his chest as he thought of meeting his soon-to-be consort.

A few days past and not a word from the envoy nor the convoy itself and the emperor was about to send a rescue team to find the missing fiance until the Sapphire Palace were lively and in a ruckus.

Daisuke had simply passed by the Sapphire Palace, a few miles away from the gates and he had seen the insignia of the West Duchy and it was enough for him to notice that his fiance's entourage had arrived.

There was quite a commotion, footmen arguing with each other despite the language barrier and all seemed to be out of hand until the man of the hour himself stepped out of the carriage and began to converse with the royal staff.

"It's him. The one with (h/c) hair. He's your fiance." Ivan whispered to Daisuke, who was burning his eyes into the blurry figure draped in luxurious clothes. Beside him were numerous servants who were holding what appeared to be-

"Are those shopping bags?" Black eyes zeroed in on the multitudes of items that originated from his own country.

His loyal knight beside him chipped in. "Looks like our guest went on a little shopping spree." The prince frowned, thinking that the reason why their arrival was late was that his fiance wanted to go sightseeing.

He held back a retort, still trying to hold some ensemble of peace for their upcoming marriage before the (h/c) turn his back around to lock eyes with Daisuke.

His breath hitched and his heart skipped a beat as he stared into (e/c) eyes, although he was far, no amount of distance could fog the treasure cove of beauty the man behold.

"He's...beautiful..."

The knight beside him raised an eyebrow. "Your Highness?" "Pardon me." Daisuke coughed into a fist as he quickly looked away when a servant whispered into the (h/c)'s ear as they continued to stare at them.

The prince quickly walked away, continuing with his errands before he would be swept away in the alluring pools of (e/c).

Even after indulging in his evening activities, his mind could not rid of the starry (e/c), he hadn't even seen his face up close yet Daisuke was already enthralled.

"Fucking hell..." He cursed to himself, clad in his bathrobe with his face coated with a honey face mask. Tomorrow was doomsday.

The wedding that would unite the two nations. There was no official delegate from the royals of the West although there was enough from the duchy of (l/n) and one of the reason itself that he still hadn't met his fiance face to face was because it was taboo for couples to spend the night before the wedding.

Although it was most likely to prevent premarital pregnancy so he doesn't know how it would work with his groom. Traditions are traditions, it wouldn't harm either party hopefully.

Maybe and just maybe his dream of having a tender-love marriage could still come arise. Although something else had arose underneath his robe.

"..." Daisuke shamefully walked his way to his lavish lavatory.

The prince wasn't particularly involved in the preparation of the wedding. His father had offered to let his own royal advisor to arrange the venue and the ceremony itself. Probably as a way to apologise at the fact that he had to drag his son's love life into politics.

Daisuke had only let them be. Chipping in once or twice about the colour scheme, what type of flowers he preferred at the altar and whatnot but overall, he would just walk down the aisle, say yes to the dress and get a move on.

His fiance was most likely not involved as well. Speaking of, he felt his hands getting clammy under the fitted white gloves he wore, oddly nervous of matrimonal ceremony. Will he be a good husband? Will his groom had accepted the fact that they were wedded for politics? This was far in contrast with his fairytale dream.

The venue was already bustling with other royals, aristocrats, upper-crust gentrys sitting in the rows and rows of seating that was behind the closed grand door. Daisuke was standing right before it.

His attire was perfect. Supervised by his own father, he was clad in a commander's full dress uniform, navy hues with tassles, emblems and medals strike across his chest. His black hair slicked back with gel with minimal powder on his face and a little bit of lip tint and blush to bring colour to his pale face.

The most handsome man of the century, was what his father said when he had a private showing with Daisuke. The emperor also mentioned that he had already met the duke's son, his fiance, and only uttered.

"Goodluck, Yuichi. A feisty one, he is."

Daisuke didn't particularly like his teasing tone but brushed it off nonetheless. His secretary was right next to him, checking his attire and whispering to a servant's ear.

"Presenting the son of the Western Duchy, Lord (m/n) (l/n)."

That instantly snapped Daisuke out of his stupor as he turned around, heels clicking on the ceramic floor and he found his breath stolen away once again.

Beautiful was an understatement, the (h/c) himself was majestic to look upon. It should cost jewels for one to even bestow their eyes on the duke's son.

That was the thought that was running through Daisuke's mind when he laid his eyes upon his groom.

A gentle smile on his face that clearly had makeup like his but somehow, his (s/c) skin was glowing even more than his pale counterparts.

Dressed in a white three-piece suit, golden and cream highlights with a notch lapel and a light blue satin puff tie. His pants were a matching white as well, black silky dress shoes with intricates hand-drawn on the red soles.

Across his chest were gold chains from the lapel to his right breast pocket and small gemstones were dangling, a sign of his wealth. He had cufflinks that were the same shade of Daisuke's navy uniform.

His lips were painted with a glossy pink-red tint, matching his undertone and there were a slight edge of eyeliner on the corner of his eyes. Suddenly, Daisuke felt like the makeup he wore wasn't enough.

Finally, the steps came to a halt and his fiance stood right in front of him, craning his neck down to greet the prince.

"Good morning, Your Highness." His voice sounded sultry and alluring, at least to his ears and he had stared at the (h/c) once again until Ivan had coughed loudly bringing him back to reality.

"Good morning, Lord...(l/n)." "(m/n) is just fine." The smile he adorned was appealing and it struck Daisuke in the right places in his chest as he faced the grand doors, the audience behind them suddenly quieting down and he felt a hand slinking to hold onto his arm.

"Let's get married, shall we?"

(m/n) (l/n) looked to him with that polite smile again and Daisuke felt his heart flutter as he nodded in return, leading their intertwined steps together.

The grand doors pushed open and an organ followed, oscillating the wind to the tune of a marriage union. An ensemble of choir sang, bringing a light atmosphere suitable for the wedding of a royal.

The pair walked down the aisle together in slow steps, Daisuke smiling at the guests, mostly familliar faces to his left although he couldn't recognise the ones on his right, (m/n)'s side that filled with foreign ministers from other kingdoms.

"I hope we didn't cause you too much trouble with my late arrival."

(m/n)'s whisper caught him off guard as he slightly peered to his right, the (h/c) still smiling and he whispered back.

"It didn't cause much but I would've hoped for an earlier introduction." He could hear almost a giggle from his groom. "We had some...run-ins."

Daisuke raised an eyebrow at that. "I saw the outlet bags. I suppose our country is fine with riches that you couldn't help yourself?"

It was quiet from the (h/c) and Daisuke felt like the walk to the altar was taking forever until they reached the podium and the officiator bowed to them.

"Dearly beloved, we have all gathered here today..."

"Your kingdom has many intricates our own lacked. I couldn't help but had a few stops." (m/n) hushly retorted, it had an apologetic tone.

Daisuke chuckled at that, suddenly all of his annoyance washed away. "I suppose a proper tour should be in order."

"...Are you not irate, Your Highness?" They both turned facing each other as the ring bearer, Daisuke's third baby cousin stepping forward to hand the small velveted ringboxes.

"I'm not, currently." Daisuke swiftly took (m/n)'s ring out of the box, a 12-carat sapphire and diamond cluster, and gently took the groom's hand and slid it on his ring finger. "As long as you're already here, all goes well for me."

There was a moment of silence from (m/n), who quietly took Daisuke's ring, an Oval Blue Sapphire, 18-carat white diamond cluster, pulled his white glove off and pushed the ring onto his finger, lightly squeezing his hand.

When Daisuke raised his eyes from their now holding hands with ringed fingers, he looked to (m/n)'s face, expecting to see the usual polite smile but there was instead a smirk accompanied with a devilish glint behind those (e/c) that was quickly brushed away with his usual facade.

"I'm glad."

"...What was-"

"Your Royal Highness, Prince Daisuke Yuichi, will you take Lord (m/n) (l/n) to be your lawfully wedded husband." The officiator cut in as he waited for Daisuke to speak who in turn stammered accidentally.

"I-I do." He coughed to himself, slightly embarassed as the old officiator held a reassuring smile.

"And you, Lord (m/n) from the (l/n) Dukedom. Will you take His Highness, Prince Daisuke Yuichi to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"...I do." There was a drag in the first syllable, and he smoothly finished the rest of his testimony that made something curl in Daisuke's stomach.

The prince didn't even notice the priest' next words as (m/n) suddenly leaned in to kiss him by his lips. He quite literally took his breath away, Daisuke sucking in a quick breath before deepening the kiss and pressing his hand into (m/n)'s lower back.

There were cheers, clapping in celebration of the two kingdom's union, at the expense of their own.

Daisuke pulled away and gazed into (e/c). "We're going to have so much fun." He swore he could have heard the (h/c) murmured amongst the applause the audience were imparting. He looked to the crowd, his eyes meeting his father, who was in a grander seat than the rest, nodded slowly at him.

The ceremony passed by quick, he had to stand on the grand podium with guests passing by in turn to greet and congratulate the new couple, (m/n) patiently still beside him, linking their arms together. Daisuke would shoot glances but a commonwealth would converse with him every now and then.

Cake-cutting and more public affection and finally were they allowed to retire to the Grand Palace. Although Daisuke had to part from his new consort who waved goodbye at him as they got ready to move into the Emerald Palace. The prince stared at the carriage leaving him and his knights behind.

Both his secretary and his knight congratulating him with his marriage with Ivan reminding him of their private dinner that night.

"I hope you do remember of your meal together that was much delayed." Daisuke nodded, unbuttoning his collar in the rocky carriage. "I do." "As well as your marriage culmination?"

"Culmina-?" "Consummating in other terms."

"..." Oh.

Ivan rolled his eyes at his silly prince whose cheeks turned pink at the heavy reminder.

Night has fallen and it seemed another tentative was due. The prince, checked his white loose tucked blouse he had worn along with black slacks that had silver chains pinned on the sides of his waist.

He had came much earlier than suggested, his knight asking whether he was nervous although the prince declined the indication, there was a hint of hesitance in his heart.

The cutlery was laid out on the table decorated with lace and multiple candelabra, lit up just for the occasion. It was a private dinner, just the two of them, supposedly, away from peering eyes and as a moment of intimacy for the newlyweds.

"It seems you're here early, Your Highness."

Daisuke stood from his chair, the wooden foot dragging against the carpeted floor. "Your Grace." (m/n) bowed to his now husband, along with his attendant as the door that was opened for his entry now closed by the guards who stood watch outside.

He was wearing a maroon dressing gown that dragged on the carpeted floor with a striking necklace that fit snugly around his neck.

"I hope I wasn't late, again to our tryst." "A tryst?" (m/n) frowned, pouting. "Does the prince not consider me so?"

Daisuke smiled, feeling abashed as he steeled himself. He walked over behind the (h/c), pulling up a chair and pushed it to the front while (m/n) seated himself. "If you wish." He whispered into the consort's ear before returning into his own.

He could feel a glare burning into the side of his head from the consort as butlers and maids began to serve their four-course meal. Plates and bottles of wine were presented and the servants stood behind the royals for any amendments needed.

The mahogany table was rectangular. (m/n) was sitting on the longer part of it, more to the edge while Daisuke had sat at head of the table. They were close to each other but with enough space to dine. Daisuke had requested so.

"I believed I hadn't met your father yet. I heard of what a great man he was. Was he present during the reception?" Daisuke began the dinner, taking a silver knife and began to cut into the steak on his plate.

(m/n) followed accordingly, opting to drink some of the wine first. "None of my family members were present, Your Highness. They're all booked with their own schedules."

"Oh. I'm sorry that happened." Daisuke cringed to himself, worried that he might've had offended his consort. "No no, it's fine." The (h/c) waved it off.

"I'm sure Your Highness will get to meet them some other time." That polite smile stretched across (m/n)'s face again. That odd expression.

"Please don't refer to me as a prince at all times. We are bound together in matrimony." He called a butler to pour a glass of sparkling water for himself.

(e/c) eyes gazed at the decanting before trailing back to Daisuke's black ones. "...If so, then may I request for us to be truly...private?"

The butler that was serving Daisuke a glass seemed to freeze in hesitation. He looked to his prince for confirmation and Daisuke nodded. The man stepped back, bowed and exited the dinner hall along with the other servants who spoke their greetings and trickled out of the venue in an orderly manner.

Daisuke was about to grab the bottle, to finish pouring his half-full glass before he felt fingers curling around the back of his hand.

"Let me." (m/n) smiled again, stood and delicately poured the beverage into the glass, just enough that it almost spilled over the edge. The prince quirked an eyebrow at the gesture as he carefully took the glass and sipped on the water.

"Thank you, Lord-" "(m/n)." "...(m/n)."

He felt his heart pounding again, like the first time they had met but it was different. It didn't had that nervous beat of meeting a loved one. The butterflies in his stomach wasn't due to excitement, it was like screaming at him that something was wrong-

"Have you never ventured to the West, my prince? I don't think I've ever seen you around any social events." (m/n) slumped back in his seat, poking at his food. Daisuke was a tad confused at the change of demeanour but brushed it off.

"I do travel to the West sometimes but the only events I attended were for militia intents." (e/c) rolled and the consort scoffed. "Politics. How boring."

"...Excuse me?"

It took a moment for (m/n) to stare up at the chandelier above them, responsible for lighting the whole room. He pushed himself to stand and slowly walked over to the switch that had kept it alight.

(m/n) pulled the lever down, instantly darkening the room. Daisuke squinted his eyes, adjusting to the low brightness that was only exhibited by the multiple candelabra.

"That feels much better, doesn't it?"

He almost flinched when he found the (h/c) sitting right beside him, his elbows on the table and his hands cupping his chin. (e/c) eyes peering into his. "...Were you there when they decided on our marriage, Prince Daisuke?"

His tone was off, very off, different than what the prince was used to. "...No. My father had been the one to agree, as proposed by Emperor Aurelius." "...That old geezer."

(m/n) clicked his tongue and reached out to his wine glass, instantly downing almost half of the cup, shocking Daisuke. "He always wanted to get rid of me. So scared, paranoid that I would somehow take over his empire that his ancestors built. Scared that I would seduce his son to give the throne over to me that fucking-"

He paused and smiled back to Daisuke. "So. Princey." (m/n) plucked a grape from a plate and popped it into his mouth. "What do you want from this marriage?"

Daisuke was taken aback, had this been the true nature of the second son of the West Duchy? He hesitated for a moment before retorting. "...What do I want?" "Yes."

A glimmer of hatred flashed across (e/c) who took another swig of the wine. "It is impossible for you to accept the offer without wanting something in return. What's the catch?"

"There is no catch." Daisuke pressed, almost losing his composure at the accusation he was presented. "I'm in the same position as you are, I can guarantee you."

"I truly don't care whether you were present or not when the contract of peace was signed. My...hand in marriage was given away for some..." His (e/c) scanned Daisuke up and down with judgement.

"...man." He smiled, again.

The prince took a deep breath, regaining his maturity as he sighed to himself. "Even if there was some catch, all I ask is peace." He gazed at the consort. "Between us."

"..." The consort looked bored for a moment and it was eating away at Daisuke's patience.

"When do we start?" The prince perked up at the consort's ask. "Start what exactly?" He sipped on his glass.

"The sex."

He spat out what was fresh sparkling water to his left, avoiding the consort who only glared, unimpressed at the coughing prince. "T-That was abrupt." He hit his chest a few times to get the water out of his system.

"...you sound inexperienced."

"I prefer not to reveal myself." (m/n) hummed as he clicked his tongue before he spoke. "I must warn you, though."

Daisuke felt nervous again, his heart rate speeding at the sight of (e/c) burning into his.

"You're not the first man to warm my bed."

Muffles of cursing and moans were discernable in the dim dinner hall. The food that was plated now cold, Daisuke having another means in his mouth.

(m/n) was in his lap, hiking up his gown, and sat plush, his legs folded as he continued to enfold the prince's senses with inching thrill, making out with the flustered prince. "Mmnn- hah huff..." Daisuke panted, pulling back and his pants tight with his erection, his back tense against the cushion of the chair and his hands clenching the armrests.

The (h/c) was staring him down, the corner of his lips leaking spit as he licked another stripe up the prince's cheek. "You seem nervous, have you never had an entertainer on you before?"

His mind was hazy and warm, his skin almost burning as he huffed. "Your tongue, you speak my language well." Daisuke didn't know why he asked that. Maybe he needed a distraction other than how (m/n)'s tongue was probably the hottest thing that entered his mouth.

"I studied your culture as soon as I received the announcement. And I had help from a couple of your subjects..." (m/n) purred, smirking. His hands slinked down Daisuke's chest until it reached the strings of his collar.

"But that's not the point now, is it?"

He ripped Daisuke's shirt with his hands, exposing the large chest underneath. The prince stammered, his hands shaky as (m/n) readjusted his position to sit his ass directly on the ravenette's clothed cock.

"Now how does the Prince of the East spend his nights?" He whispered sultrily, trailing his lips across Daisuke's neck. "I don't...typically-"

The prince's words were cut off with a moan. His own moan when the (h/c) began to grind himself on Daisuke's crotch. "Don't lie to me." (m/n) smiled. "Would His Royal Highness like to take it up the ass?"

He pressed a deep kiss to the prince's cheek before gazing deeply into his eyes. "Or does he prefer swinging his hips?" Daisuke pursed his lips together, his heart officially beating out of his chest as his hands finally had the courage to grab on (m/n)'s waist.

"I'm not bottoming." His answer was firm, determined to top. "..." (m/n) only gazed at him with an unimpressed look. "You couldn't even conquer me." The (h/c) whispered.

Suddenly, the grinding became more rough. (m/n) closed his eyes and threw his head back, circling and pressing his bottom down on Daisuke's erection. "F-Fuck mmn!" The prince panicked a bit before tightening his grip as the consort grinded himself down on the ravenette.

"Ahn! Ahh mmnn-" The (h/c)'s moans were loud and elaborate. It confused Daisuke as (m/n) gritted his teeth. He experimentally hovered his lips over the consort's neck. "I'm gonna- I'm going to cu-"

A slap echoed in the small room, shocking Daisuke. He was stunned, a small tingling on his left cheek with (m/n) staring at him unimpressed. "You think I'm that easy to cum?"

The (h/c) glared at the prince, scrutinizing him. "..." Daisuke could only stare in silence, his cheek reddening. "I..."

(m/n) propped his own chin on his left palm. "Hey. Are you actually a virgin?" His tone seemed disappointed, angry even. "I've heard the Prince of the East rejecting advances but I didn't think it'd be this dire. Your face shouldn't be a problem but how so?"

"..." Was this his true colors? Daisuke only wanted a peaceful marriage but all hopes of his fairytale seemed to vanish at the sight of the (h/c).

(m/n) waited for an answer from Daisuke who was hesitant to respond. "I just thought that...your first night should be with someone special." "Oh. You're one of those, huh. A sweetheart."

The (h/c) pried himself off of the prince, staggering in the dim room. "Listen here, prince. I don't care if you want me to carry out my marital duties. But don't bother me nor stand in my way," He trotted to the doors of the dining room.

"And I won't stand in yours."

He kicked the door open, shocking a few guards and left the prince alone. Daisuke stared at the agape door, palming his cheek wondering what the hell did he got into.

Their consummation night was scrapped. Daisuke sitting alone in the bed of their shared bedroom, screaming into the pillow with his still hard erection.

Daisuke had never seen his consort after that again. He was officially married but he hadn't seen his husband for the past week.

He had Ivan did some background digging and it turned out the secretary already did but Daisuke himself didn't want to read it just because he thought he didn't need to. Now here he was, hunching over his desk in his office, flipping through the files.

(m/n) (l/n), the infamous second son of the West Dukedom. An older brother to inherit the duchy, a set of parents that was rumoured to proudly spoil their baby son with multiple assets and estates. Occasionally ventures to East for social events. An extremely influential person in the upper-class.

He thought back on how the (h/c) mumbled about the Western Emperor. Looks like their arrangement was rooted much deeper than he had thought.

The prince tried to visit the consort in the Emerald Palace, where all the consorts and concubines of the royal resorted to, for now it was the sole home of (m/n) (l/n). What was once a parade of servants loyal to the prince, was sneaky and deceitful to protect their new master.

"What do you mean, he's unavailable?"

A maid coughed acting dismissive, two others behind her holding in their giggles. "Well, it is exactly what I said, Lord Ivan. His Grace isn't feeling well today."

Daisuke crossed his arms, standing behind his secretary and stared at the tall gates of the Emerald Palace. He tried to enter but was denied.

"If he's not well, has the doctor tend to the consort?" "He's unwell but he is not ill. Some time to himself is what His Grace needs." A guard suddenly chipped in and Ivan just noticed that all of the staff employed in the Emerald Palace was in on the gag.

"Do you wish for me to punish them, Your Highness?" Daisuke's knight, who was one of the commanders that served beside him during his military enlistment whispered to him. "No need." The prince sighed, rubbing his forehead in frustration.

Daisuke knew that (m/n) was influential but to take over the Emerald Palace is not what they both need right now. Every now and then, he'd stop by the Palace but he was left in the dust each time, either he was rejected at the gates or the (h/c) was not present in his chambers.

He paused to himself, wondering why he was trying so hard to harmonize with his consort. His cheeks bloomed a light pink at the memory of the consort on their wedding day. (m/n) truly looked marvelous in his eyes.

Daisuke didn't want his first marriage to turn dull. How can he be the emperor of a nation if he couldn't even save his marriage?

"We received some...reports, Your Highness."

Daisuke looked up to his secretary, who seemed hesitant. They were in the prince's office. "What is it?" "Well...it'd be best if I tell this to you alone." The prince's knight immediately bowed and left the office, closing the doors shut.

The ravenette encouraged the secretary to sit. Ivan looked tired, as he stared into the prince's eyes. "Your consort, His Grace...we received reports of him flirting with some of the guards."

"...flirting?" An irk appeared on his forehead and he could feel mild anger building in the back of his head. How annoying was his consort?

"Yes. From the staffs of the other Palaces, not from the Emerald." "Was it a complaint or a report?" "Reports, Your Highness. The guards themselves have not reached out to me nor to your knight."

"..." Had the guards been bewitched by the (h/c)? Daisuke wondered. He sighed and pulled his cabinet open, taking out an invoice. "What are you proposing, Your Highness?"

"He's in a foreign country, away from his family with only a few familliar faces around him. He's probably throwing a tantrum with his new surroundings. His parents spoiled him with riches and the empire has no problem sponsoring him as well." The prince pulled out a stamp, officiating the new document.

"I'm increasing a total of 30% of his allowance, if he wishes for another shopping spree, then so be it."

Ivan stared at the new invoice Daisuke handed him, hesitantly picking it up. "...I don't think this is the solution." "Then what do you suggest?" "That Your Highness should steer instead of letting him trample all over you?"

The prince deadpanned at his long-known friend slash secretary who coughed into his fist and mumbled an apology. "I'll get this to the Royal Treasury immediately."

The prince had a frown on his face as his Ivan exited the office. Daisuke hadn't even seen (m/n) ever since his dinner, and here he was receiving news he was fooling around with others? Their dynamic was hard for him to tiptoe around.

Maybe the increase in money for the (h/c) would better his behaviour towards the prince.

"This is absurd..."

Daisuke stared at the paper in hand. An official request from his consort. He was already surprised that (m/n) was sending a letter his way but to his disappointment, it was a request for a summerhouse???

"Construction of a villa near the borders of the West, fully furnitured, surrounded by a lake with a stampede of workers for maintenance. Functionality...vacation." His knight peered over the crumbling Daisuke in his office chair.

"This...I haven't seen him in a month and the first thing he reaches out to me is a summerhouse. A SUMMERHOUSE???" Daisuke yelled frustratingly as he grabbed a quill and roughly stabbed it into the pot of ink.

"Will you indulge in his request, Your Highness?" "No. I've gifted him jewels and gold with him not even showing me his face and he dared to ask for a villa!" He was more than capable to build a villa by his own means, but a month had passed and the consort was a no-show!

He made his own advances, sending gifts, fineries, he even had a surprise private buffet for the consort ever since he heard (m/n) wished to try some of the Eastern cuisines! Not even a simple thank you from the consort himself. From the consort's attendant, yes and it made the prince curl over in delight but he wished to see the consort either way.

He had to dismiss the consort's request this time. Surely, not much of a fuss would occur.

"THE CONSORT IS MISSING!"

Daisuke's attention was snatched from the plate he was dining. He was having his dinner that night when a guard bursted in.

"WHAT??" "His Grace! He's gone missing!"

"How?!" Daisuke's knight stepped in. "Did he went out to town? With no guards??" "No! His schedule is clear for today, His Grace is not in his room and there were makeshift ropes from bedsheets from his windows!"

The prince sat silent for a while before he clenched his teeth. "That brat ran away...call all the knights! Cover a ten-mile perimeter! Close the FUCKING BORDERS and leave no stone unturned!!"

(m/n) was humming to himself, carefully guiding his horse on the stone path. The cloak he was wearing was enough to conceal the riches he was wearing underneath, he only wore them because it looked nice anyways.

As soon as the (h/c) received the notice where his request was rejected with no appeal, he ran away. Quite literally, he sneaked out of his bedroom, not even telling his maids he loved to gossip with nor even notifying a single guard.

The palace was starting to feel suffocating anyways. When he had stepped inside, all of the staff was ready to serve him as intended but as soon as he was promoted to a consort, they truly upped their game, treating him like royalty and far better than whatever he received back at the duchy.

Although they were the under the reign of the emperor, all it took was a few small gems and bags of coin to turn the maids over to his side. Then, the knights weren't that bad, Eastern men had their own charm to them and he may have fooled around with one or two, nothing advanced to the bed however.

Humans are easy to dictate over, his father and mother were his first victims of his narcisissm and his brother was kind enough to let him have his way. Socialites were a breeze, as long as you have a tight grip on people, all goes in your favour.

And that's what (m/n) (l/n) did for the past twenty two years of his life. Until the news of his engagement reached the duchy from the royal delegate. His hand in marriage, his freedom was sold to the East for peace between the two nations.

No more drunken nights, no more mingling with sexy men and women. He was forced to settle down quietly. But (m/n) wasn't going to back down without a fight. He was angry his freedom was stolen away from him, and he was going to make whoever his suitor was suffer.

At first, he delayed his arrival to the East Empire. Dragging his attendants to stop by towns, lounging in suites and overall prolonging their time before their arrival.

(m/n) had assumed his future husband was a sleazebag. An old pervert who had never shown his face in parties in the West. It was a nice surprise to find out that he was a kind handsome man on their wedding day.

It was disappointing to find out that he was a virgin pushover.

The prince, Daisuke Yuichi, showed not a single hint of anger towards him. Forgiving him in a second for his arrogance and that immediately gave (m/n) the hint that he could get away with anything as much as possible in the palace.

It was boring as well, if he was commanding at least he would have some fun in the sheets.

And him suddenly increasing his allowance, sending him gifts just showed how submissive this little prince was. (m/n) had him wrapped around his little finger already, he thought.

Yesterday, he had been in contact with a few architects since he wanted a new villa. He had multiple estates in the West but with his sudden moving, he wanted assets in the East as well. And he thought he could get his request approved but he was stunned to find it denied. The consequences were a few broken mirrors and him running away.

He handed the reigns of his horse to a worker, settling in a small town in the rural parts as he entered a lively bar, opting to ask the bartender where he could stay for the night.

(m/n) got a few winks here and there and even some paid drinks, all he did was blow a kiss and chugging them down blissfully as he headed to a moderately-sized inn.

He passed out on the bed, whining about the lack of sex for the past month as he clutched the bottle of vodka in his arms.

The consort had no clear of objective where to embark to. He thought of just journeying along the paths until he reached the borders so he could see where he can built his future villa. A horse and a small satchel with a dream.

The morning after, there was a ruckus in town. He groggily peeked out from the curtains to see guards with the Eastern insignia questioning people, a barrage of carriages and overall military personnel.

"...what the fuck..." He quietly closed the blinds as he recollected the very few items he had brought. Did the prince launch a manhunt??

He didn't think that his search would be this intense but holy fuck he's not intending to get caught like this.

He still wore the previous night's outfit, a linen blue blouse with khakis and carved boots fashioned with a cloak. He felt his heart racing when heavy footsteps tracked down the halls.

There were banging on other doors, inspecting the tenants and (m/n) immediately hid himself in a closet when his room was next.

There were heavy knocking and he held his breath in when the door was kicked open. Some yelling here and there, the (h/c) was just begging for them to leave.

"No sign of the consort!"

FUCK! They WERE looking for him. He bit his nails nervously as the chevaliers left his room to torture some other poor tenants of the inn. His mind scrambled, on what to do in this scenario.

Sure he had made a few attempts at running away before but his brother was the one who had capsized his attempts and he was at least gentle about it. These dogs looked like they wouldn't give a fuck if he lost a finger in the process.

He waited patiently in the dark closet until there were no noises outside of the window as he clambered down from the furniture and dashed out his room.

He hurriedly went to the stables, struggling to pull the ropes off of his horse when his shoulder was grabbed.

"Your Grace?"

"...FUCK-"

The guards were tired from an overnight search. Two of them, had been scouting the woods and stumbled across the small town and informed headquarters who sent a squad to do a full sweep.

After it was done, all they had to do was look out for any stragglers and proceed to the next stop. It was their luck to find the hunted man, the consort himself attempting to untie his horse in a rented stable.

"HOW THE HELL DID YOU FIND ME?!!"

The (h/c) had struggled, kicking and yelling as they forcefully tied his wrists together, due to him still attempting to flee with some felt rope bound to a wooden pole outside of the stables.

One of the guards only stared unimpressed at the consort's accessories, his bracelets, rows of ring and a small diamond necklace. Who else was the missing husband of the crown prince. It was a miracle he hadn't been robbed.

There was a flustered expression on the (h/c)'s face who seemed to be embarrassed by the attracting crowd of the locals who had careened around to gaze at the infamous capture while he only sat defeated on the dirt floor.

"The next troop should be making their rounds over here, luckily that one should have the Crown Prince leading." "All we have to do is wait." They high-fived each other, standing guard while ignoring the yelling and cursing consort behind them.

It didn't take long for the consort to wear himself out and the next barrage of army to arrive. The prince's personal knight had been the one to came to them first, glancing at the dirty consort and walked over to the grand carriage that obviously carried the prince, opening the carriage.

"Shit shit shit-!" (m/n) cursed at himself, more pumped to free himself from embarrassment and his restraints as he pulled his wrists against the ropes, etching the material into his skin. He hissed in pain but he felt his heart dropped when he saw a familiar mop of black hair walking towards him in silver armour.

"...What is this?"

(e/c) eyes didn't dare to raise upon hearing the seething voice of the once kind prince. "I said what the hell is this?!" Daisuke turned to the two guards who supposedly had caught the consort.

"...It's the consort, Your Highness." The knight responsible for tying him jittered in nervousness, not expecting the aggression. The prince, clad in full armour with a cape, gritted his teeth, his jaw clenching as he snatched the collar of one of the guards. "If you knew he was my husband, then tell me why he's tied up like a stray dog!" He hissed, enraged at the fact (m/n) was on the ground, his wrists tied to a pole like a dirty mutt.

"Untie him immediately!" He threw the guard to the pole by his collar who staggered to cut the ropes. "Two trained knights couldn't restrain an unarmed man?! How stupidly incompetent do you have to be!" Daisuke was yelling, cursing at the guards while the rest of the squad watched.

(m/n) just sat helplessly, silently watching the knights cut through his restraints and he breathed a sigh of relief when his limbs were free from the ropes. Daisuke grabbed his hands, examining the burns as he looked at his consort in the eye.

The (h/c) didn't dare to look at the prince, silently facing to the side as he was pulled up by the arm, Daisuke grabbing him firmly and shoving him into the carriage while the rest of them bowed to the royals.

He was forced to sit beside the prince, his hands clammy and his clothes dirty while Daisuke was staring straight ahead, still fuming regarding the consort. It was painfully awkward until they reached a cabin for the horses and the men to rest, they had been searching for the missing consort overnight.

Once again, the consort was roughly manhandled upstairs into the cabin by Daisuke, while the rest of them camped outside. (m/n) pulled himself away from the prince once they were inside the privacy of the bedroom.

"Give me your hand." Daisuke's voice was firm, on edge and (m/n) silently held out his wrists as the prince took out a bottle of ointment from an emergency kit. Dabbing a cotton pad onto the opening of the bottle and carefully swiping it on the consort's burns.

"You should've been careful. The subjects are not familiar with you. You could've gotten hurt." The incessant rambling was annoying to (m/n) as he huffed. "I was fine. I can take care of myself."

The prince paused, looked up to him with a fierce glare. "You? Take care of yourself? I doubt you can even wield a knife." "I was only out for a stroll. Do I have to be accompanied twenty four-seven just for some fresh air?"

"You were missing for two days! No guards, no attendants! You could've died!" The consort pulled himself away from the prince, annoyed. "I was FINE! I'm still alive, aren't I?? Stop acting so paranoid and just leave me be.

Daisuke stood, now pissed. "Leave you be?? You have been avoiding me ever since our wedding. Rejecting my requests of audience like some arrogant prick!" "Oh I'm so sorry, Your Royal Highness! I should've licked your boots from the moment I arrived." The (h/c) mocked the prince.

"Watch your tone with me." Daisuke seethed, the consort scoffing, crossing his arms. "Or what? I doubt you would punish me for a trivial matter."

"I don't understand your hostility against me. I could've had you hung the moment you slapped me at our dinner." "But you didn't. You let it slide. I've trampled over you numerous times but you didn't give a single damn. It's not my fault the Prince of the East is a feeble PUSHOVER!"

If Daisuke was mad moments ago, he was now absolutely enraged. He stepped to the consort and grabbed him by his jaw. "I said, watch your shitty tone with me." He scowled.

"Or what?" (m/n) smirked. "What will you do, Princey." That stupid name pissed Daisuke off. He grabbed the (h/c)'s arm and tossed him onto the bed, the latter yelping while the prince started to remove his armour.

"I'm aware you've been whoring yourself to the knights. Tell me, have you had such an itch between your legs that you couldn't even keep them closed?" Daisuke felt his face grew hot with anger, tearing off his chest and shoulder plates from his figure, revealing his tight undershirt hugging his body.

"You-...I didn't do anything with them." (m/n) stammered, embarassed that his secrets of flirting with the guards had been leaked. He watched as Daisuke kicked the rest of his armour off of himself. "It's not like I've slept with them, we were just talking-" "It's no use justifying yourself."

The prince suddenly climbed onto the bed as (m/n) clambered away but yelped when the ravenette tugged on his ankle. "I'm furious. You've chosen to fool around with some second-level chavelier instead of seeing your own husband."

"You wouldn't care! Even if I fucked your father, you wouldn't give a single damn-" (m/n)'s head tossed to the side, his cheek burning in pain. He had just been slapped.

The consort looked up to the prince in shock. "You...Even my father has never-" "Well I'm not your fucking daddy, am I?"

Something rose in the (h/c)'s pants, there was a dark look in Daisuke's eyes that sent shivers down the consort's spine. He felt his breath becoming heavy as the prince leaned down to his face.

"If you're to disobey me once again, I'll strip you naked and feed you to the wolves. Do I make myself clear?" Daisuke glared into shaky (e/c) eyes, but he felt something throbbing pressing against his pelvis and he looked down.

He scoffed, unimpressed at the (h/c)'s erection. "Was this what you wanted? Me claiming you from the start? I'm over here furious at your behaviour and your cock is hard?" (m/n) shook his head, flustered. "I just- it's-" He couldn't find the words to defend himself of how he was so turned on getting threatened from his husband.

"It's been a while since I-" "And I haven't gotten a chance to taste you, rascal. To think you've messed around with my knights." (m/n) let out a flustered moan as Daisuke roughly groped his chest.

"Let's see if the peace between our nations was really worth the hassle."

There was stuttered moans, whimpers in the small bedroom, (m/n) covering his face with his arms. His body barely covered with his tattered shirt. His pants were tossed to the back with Daisuke lazily twirling the fountain pen he found in one of the cupboards.

The consort's bottom half was propped up with a pillow underneath, his legs dangling on armrests, Daisuke had pulled up a chair near the edge of the bed and slumped himself in it.

Currently, the (h/c) was exposed, his shirt torn in half and his hole twitchy being prodded by the pen in Daisuke's hand. The prince pushed, and swirled it around, stretching his dry rim.

(m/n) mewled, his body hot and he didn't like how he was the only one naked. He was deprived of sex for weeks and it was a pleasure for him to be toyed by the prince, who he thought he didn't even had the balls to pounce on him.

"Uncover your face. I didn't take you to be the shy type." (m/n) choked on his saliva when the pen was thrusted into his ass up to its hilt and his hips squirmed, uncomfortable and tingling from the length. "I-It's too dry- Mmnn! It hurts- anghh!"

"Oh nowww you're listening to me. When I finally put something in your ass is the moment you decided to stop being a brat." (m/n) couldn't see Daisuke's expression right now, if he did he bet he could squirt in seconds.

A firm grip on his cock made him mewl again, a throaty cry leaving his wet lips. "I said...uncover your face." The consort's heart was beating out of his chest as he slowly placed his arms to the side.

Daisuke felt amused, (e/c) teary, a flustered aroused expression on the consort's face. Far different than the defiant side he had faced all this time. He could feel his own cock throbbing in his pants.

He pressed the pen in deeper, (m/n) gargling and groaning in response. "D-Daisuke-" "Be formal. Respect me as your prince."

The (h/c) frowned, frustrated. "Your Highness..." He peeked up at the prince whose face was red, flushed with arousal and amusement.

"Good boy."

His cock spurted short ropes of cum in Daisuke's hand, the owner himself staring at his wet genital in shock. "H-How did I...?" Even the consort himself was confused how could he, a man who had slept with an abundant men and women previously, came extremely quick at the hands of the Eastern prince who had yet to shed a single garment.

"So you are a slut." Daisuke's tone was mundane. As if he was bored, unimpressed. (m/n)'s eyebrows were furrowed, his teeth clenching as he stared at his cock being slowly jacked off by the ravenette.

"I just c-came- wait wait!" He held in a breath as he endured his coming down from an orgasm with Daisuke fapping his cock agonizingly in slow but firm strokes. "Am I supposed to care?" The prince spoke with an arrogant tone.

The consort whined, his hips bucking and he clenched around the pen in his anus. His ass flinched when the prince took a glass decanter and pour the liquid inside down his cock, flowing down his base, slipping on the curve of his balls and coating the exposed pen and his clenching rim.

"Wh-What was that?" He panicked, his nether region feeling unusually hot. "You said you were dry." Daisuke brushed off the consort's worries, pulling out the pen and stuck his bare fingers inside, massaging his rim.

His fingertips dug into his hole, caressing his squelching walls, Daisuke observing (m/n)'s reaction who became more and more flustered. His hand that was gripping (m/n)'s cock went to flick his nipples, the consort cried out in shock.

The (h/c) bit his bottom lip, his eyes drowsy as he felt his body becoming more hot. He arched his back as he clambered to remove the remains of his torn shirt.

"Feeling warm?" (m/n) nodded to the prince's question, propping his hands up to support his body while getting his ass fingered by the prince. "What was in that decanter?" He moaned out.

"Emergency supplies. Used for wounds and cramps, I suppose its a fine substitute for a quick lube job." The (h/c) groaned in frustration, whimpering in hot discomfort. His previous partners had never been sloppy with him, only using expensive products and treating him like glass.

The prince, who sensed that the consort was complaining in his head yet again, grabbed his neck and brought him to his face. "Be grateful that I'm prepping you. Any man as angry as I am would've torn you apart by now. A 'thank you' would suffice."

(m/n) choked, still denying until Daisuke's fingers suddenly jammed roughly into his hole, two knuckles deep. "T-Thank you, Your Highness..." He whimpered.

Daisuke finally got the appreciation he wanted. He licked a stripe up (m/n)'s cheek, his fingers clenching the (h/c)'s jaw. Pressing a deep kiss into his cheek, he whispered into the consort's ear. "Now that's sensible."

(m/n) suddenly felt pissed off.

"I'll spit in your face if you don't back up." He snarled at the prince. Daisuke only rolled his eyes. "Tell your cock to stop leaking pre, then I'll release you." (m/n) groaned, still hating that he was the only one naked.

"Take off your clothes. It's not fair I'm the only one stripped." Sighing, the prince released his grips and took out his fingers. (m/n) squirming at the empty feeling left in his hole as the prince stood, kicking the chair away.

"Undress me." He ordered the consort. The (h/c) frowned but kneeled on the mattress nonetheless, climbing over the pillow as he roughly tugged off the prince's shirt, resisting the urge to punch his glaring face.

He pulled the belt off of his waist but when it came to his pants, (m/n) leaned his body down and used his teeth, pushing the button through the slit using his tongue and ripped the rest of the waistband halfway with his teeth. The prince groaned, stroking his (s/c) bare back.

The consort's body was pushed down, (m/n) knocked onto the bed in his back as Daisuke pulled his thighs forward, hiking his legs onto his shoulder. His bottom was propped once again by the pillow.

"Make sure not to cum so quick." (m/n) smirked, alluding to the fact that Daisuke was a virgin. The prince pulled out his cock...his big, big cock and scoffed.

"Confide that to yourself."

(m/n) accidentally bit his tongue when Daisuke pulled his hips back, slapping his ass against his naked groin. He felt heat bloom in his stomach, instantly full in his hole. "A-ahh mmh ahh-" He whimpered, staring up at the ceiling in debauched shock.

His thighs quivered as the prince had a bruising grip on his waist, pushing him back before slamming his cock inside again. A short scream dwelled from his throat as he felt his ass pierced.

The (h/c)'s nails dug into the cotton sheets below him as he endured blows from the prince who began to rut his cock roughly into his strained ass. He almost screeched at the sheer intensity of his thrusts the ravenette bestowed, the heat curling in his stomach once again.

Daisuke had been angry. Angry ever since that stupid dinner. But he was raised to be fair, to be just so he put himself in (m/n)'s shoes but all the disrespect, the arrogance the consort protrude hacks away at his patience.

He tried to be loving, giving the (h/c) space but all he received was spats of degrading and defiant remarks. All of those resentment began to pile in the back of his mind and eventually burst when he received the news of the consort fleeing from the palace.

He was angry that the consort put himself in danger, he was also enraged on how the man even flirted with others while leaving his husband in the dark.

It all lead to this moment, him fucking his mountain of vexation into the squirming melting (h/c).

"Haa- anhh!" Another spout of creamy semen splurted from the tip of (m/n)'s dick, slipping down and dripping onto his own stomach.

Daisuke could see the confusion and frustration etched on the consort's face. He held in a sly laugh as he bend his body down, pressing his head next to the consort's.

"Don't jinx yourself, quickshot." He teased the (h/c). The latter smacked his back to which Daisuke quickly humping his dick into the squelching hole, chasing his high.

"Wait wait! Not inside-!" He breathed a long sigh of relief, cumming long ropes of baby batter in the consort's hole.

(m/n) squirmed, feeling sticky as he tried to push the prince off. "You bitch. You cunt, I told you not to cum in me-!" He hissed.

It was a little secret he hold to himself, the (h/c) loooves people cumming inside of him but he wouldn't dare show it to the prince. However, Daisuke seemed to read his mind, apart from his still hard and twitching cock, he moved the consort to lay on his side.

"I'm not done. You have a month's worth of payback, consort." Daisuke spat on the (h/c)'s stomach who showed clear disgust and disapproval. "You shitty bitch." He scowled. A strangled gasp left his throat when the prince curled his hand around his neck, moving him up and down, choking him with his grip and his cock.

The more feisty the (h/c) was, the rougher his thrusts gotten, Daisuke gripped the consort's wrist with his other free hand, leaving him to claw at the sheets with only one, limiting (m/n) to ground himself who was squirming, going cockdrunk on his penis.

(m/n) was confused, scared why he was so turned on by the prince and his rough treatment. He couldn't stop cumming so many times on the prince's cock and the prince kept nutting inside of him despite his pleas not to do so.

His left leg was hooked on Daisuke's shoulder as he was pounded sideways, at one point he had came twice during one round, the prince degrading and slapping his ass for his whorish achievement.

Clenching around Daisuke, (m/n)'s thighs shook, his head fuzzy and eyes glossy with tears. The (h/c) dug his nails into Daisuke's strong arms, who had planted his hands beside his head.

How much fucking stamina did this monster had? (m/n) whined, wishing for the prince to finish already.

It wasn't until the seventh round that he started to cry.

At that point, his stomach was covered with a layer of cum and spit. His cheeks were hot with flowing tears, begging the prince to just hurry and cum inside him already.

"I c-can't anymore- mmf! Please- hurry up- hngg!" He sobbed, streaks of teardrops on his face. The prince only stared down at him with a detached expression, as if his body was boring to him. "I'll stop when I feel like it."

He screamed when Daisuke clenched his tip. "Maybe you should stop creaming so many times." (m/n) wailed another cry, pushing the prince's chest away as he somehow adjusted his body, rotating himself so he was lying on his stomach.

It appeared that would prompt the prince more who began groping and massaging his ass, slapping it once and twice while still shoving his cock in and out of his hole.

(m/n) drooled onto the sheets, his dick shoved and dragged against the duvet. His eyes widened as he got a glimpse of his state.

There was an old oval mirror, the top half covered with a linen sheet but the bottom was bare, reflecting (m/n)'s current position in the dim room.

He looked at himself and he couldn't recognise who he was. The once proud, bratty son of a duke was a mere dirty, squelching, crying, cum-filled hole under the prince. Daisuke was still going strong, gripping his butt cheek and ramming himself into his dripping hole. He couldn't believe that the man above him was a virgin.

Maybe he was wrong. Angering and pouring fuel onto the calm and kind prince, he thought he could take advantage of. Fooling around, refusing to grant him audience despite having the position as his husband. And to think of all the gifts the prince had given him as a means of peace, he either tossed aside or used for his own pleasure while brushing off his efforts.

Daisuke leaned down onto him, (m/n) tiredly watching him through the reflection on the mirror and he screamed when the prince planted his teeth into his nape, biting into his skin. He mewled, squirting hot semen onto the sheets again, as Daisuke claimed him by biting his neck like a wild animal.

"I-I..." His voice was weak, throat sore from moaning and crying so much. "M' sorry." He could feel the prince's thrusts slowing down before coming to a stop. The prince released him from his bite, he was sure there had to be bits of blood from the mark.

"What?" His tone sounded confused, as if (m/n) was the most arrogant bitch he ever met that even an apology sounded like he heard the singing of an angel.

"I'm sorry...for what I did...for all this time..." He muttered in broken words, his face sweaty and his mouth slobbered with spit. The consort mumbled more apologies, of what he did, for slapping him, for dismissing his audience, flirting with other men.

"..." Daisuke seemed to be quiet before he pulled out of the consort. (m/n) cried when his hair was pulled up as he was forced to his knees. His hands gripping at Daisuke's who clenched his grip on his scalp. "If I catch you wagging your tail around other men again, I'll sell you to a brothel. Do you understand?"

The consort weakly nodded, inching closer to the hard and wet cock that laid against his ass crack. It seemed that Daisuke had also noticed the mirror, the prince's eyes wide glaring at him through the reflection.

"I-I won't. I just want your cock. O-Only yours- mmn!" He bit his bottom lip, when the prince grinded himself against the (h/c)'s sensitive and stinging ass. "I'm sorry."

(m/n) had realised that this was a battle. A battle of their opposite attributes. As if the striking lightning and the ear-shattering thunder clashed with Daisuke coming out on top. And he had lost in the waves of their disputing dynamic.

He submitted himself to the prince, finally lowering his ego.

"Put it in." He breathed out, glancing behind him, his teary (e/c) eyes striking the prince right in the chest.

Daisuke seemed taken aback, his grip faltering before he gently pulled the consort back so he could rest on his chest. They were both on their knees, (m/n) breathing slowly, his body lax against Daisuke's as he rested his head beside's Daisuke's jaw.

He could feel semen dripping out of his hole as the prince carefully held his hips, avoiding the dents in his waist from his fingers as he angled his tip to kiss his hole.

(m/n) sucked in a breath, Daisuke slowly shuffling his cock inside his ass, contrast to how they first started.

His body was bounced on his dick, the prince moving him using his hips and he moaned loudly, throwing his head back. Daisuke stared at him, his eyes half-lidded as he gently prodded his nose onto the consort's cheek.

The innocent touching lead the prince hovering above his lips. Daisuke delicately pressed a kiss onto the consort, who accepted the gesture fondly as the innocent affection turned into tongue-tying lust. They were making out while (m/n)'s bouncing and Daisuke's thrusting became more fervent, chasing their orgasm together.

(m/n) mewled loudly into the prince's mouth, Daisuke immediately sucking on his bottom lip as the (h/c) came. The prince groped his chest, and fondled his sensitive cock while his staggering hips was rutting up into the consort as he creamed inside one last time.

Slowly, they both fell on their sides, (m/n) unable to move, his body immobile. Daisuke gently pulled out, breathing heavily from what was the first and best sex of his life.

He woke up alone.

The prince groggily sat up, his bottom half numb as he forced himself to open his eyes. Morning rays of sunlight entered the room through the curtains and he stretched his torso like a cat before turning to his right.

His heart dropped as he noticed no signs of the consort, finally remembering what happened the evening before as he clambered to slip on a robe and was about to trudge downstairs before he noticed the bathroom door was slightly open and the running of tap water.

Carefully, he creaked the door open, peaking inside to find the (h/c) submerged in the wooden bathtub, quietly washing himself.

(m/n) perked up when he noticed the prince opening the door. "Your Highness..." It seemed that the (h/c) had woken up earlier than the ravenette, opting to wash himself first.

Daisuke staggered, his legs still weak. "...I'm sorry, I fell asleep. I couldn't clean you-" "It's fine." (m/n) assured the prince, before looking away and closing the tap water.

There was something different about the (h/c), Daisuke noticed. He seemed more fragile? More delicate. Well, it was the first time he wasn't shouting to his face.

He was still standing in the middle of the loo awkwardly before they both spoke at the same time.

"Would you like to join me?" "May I join you?"

Both of them seemed taken aback at the coincidence, Daisuke more flustered as (m/n) nudged his head as an offer to join him. The prince disrobed himself, (m/n) looking away as Daisuke carefully stepped inside the already small tub.

The tub was small, cramp even to fit the both of them. The (h/c) hugging his legs, his chin on his knees as he mindlessly splashed the water around him.

Daisuke was staring, his eyes gazing over (s/c) skin, his shoulders, his wet hair. His mundane expression is what drawn him in. Half-lidded eyes staring at the water, fingers gently poking at the surface tension. It wasn't bad. It was peaceful.

"...I'm going to wash myself now."

(m/n)'s voice broke him out of his trance, the consort staring back at him and Daisuke noticed that the tub of liquid soap on the cabinet behind him.

"...Would you like me to help?" "It would be nice."

(m/n)'s voice sounded very fond, melodic almost as Daisuke began to lather the soap and scrub it into (h/c) strands, smoothing it over his skin gently. The consort did the same for the prince and at the moment Daisuke truly felt like they were acting as a married couple.

His heart felt full and when (m/n) turned his body around, Daisuke suddenly went forward to hug his back. His arms enveloping around the consort's figure, the latter who was about to step out was restricted as he glanced at the ravenette.

"Sorry...just give me a few minutes." He mumbled, planting his face into the consort's shoulders. Daisuke could feel the (h/c) sighing and leaning into his touch, and they stayed there.

The prince kissed the marks he left last night, where he had animalistically sank his teeth into the consort. His lips gently traced his teeth marks, as if to apologise to the consort. (m/n) only leaned into his touch further, letting the ravenette express his affection. They stayed for a while, until the water turned murky and their fingertips were wrinkly.

When (m/n) was about to exit the tub, he heaved himself up but his hold slipped in the process, his lower half clearly more immobile from the previous evening and Daisuke cutting in to make sure he doesn't fall.

The prince stepped out first, tied a towel around himself and laying out another on a spare table. He reached into the tub to cradle the (h/c) and pulled him out of the tub. The water splashing out from the edges.

"You don't have to-" "It's only decent if I do." He stopped the (h/c) from refusing him any longer. And it had an impact on the consort.

(m/n) was carried by the prince into the bedroom and was gently placed on the clean side of the bed. Daisuke asking an attendant for two sets of clean clothes and when it arrived, he helped his husband dress before they headed downstairs for breakfast.

They dined together, and Daisuke thought it would be awkward or maybe a pitiful attempt at small talk but (m/n) was quiet. Nimbly chewing at his Danish ice cream toast, and the prince followed suit, basking in the peaceful atmosphere.

Some of the guards peeked at the pair, expecting Daisuke to yell at him or the consort to rebel since they heard the rumours of them not getting along backed up by their public arguments but they found the two to be surprisingly civil with each other. Daisuke opening the carriage for (m/n) and holding his hand when the consort stepped in as they continued their journey back to the palace.

The prince kept shooting glances at the consort, who only stared out at the window of his side, keeping to himself.

When Daisuke asked him if anything was wrong, all (m/n) did was shook his head and replying in a polite manner.

The ravenette thought he broke his consort, all up until they arrived at the palace. (m/n)'s maids wailed in relief at the sight of him as they hurriedly tended to the consort, who still maintained his monotone expression.

Daisuke wiped his face in agony as Ivan asked what the hell had happened.

"I think...I was too rough on him..."

The secretary irked and ushered the prince into the throne hall to report to the emperor.

"How embarassing..."

(m/n) mumbled to himself, pulling at a soft handkerchief as the servants presented him a large treasure chest.

"It is a present from His Highness for you, Your Grace." The butler announced, opening the chest, revealing an abundance of shiny gold coins with jewels and gems scattered about. His maids behind him had their eyes shining, drooling over the treasure.

It had been a day since he returned from his escape. All he did was recuperate in his room from his tranquil state and he had slept early that evening so when the prince asked for dinner together, he didn't get to accept.

He felt like he made peace with his circumstances, with his arranged marriage, although he did felt abashed regarding the whole 'running away' incident. The consort plucked the card on top of the mountain of coins.

"For the villa..." He mumbled the words written on the card. "This prick." (m/n) rubbed his forehead as he turned to his maids.

"Help me get dressed. I'm paying a visit to my husband."

Daisuke was frustrated. There were some troubles stirring up at the Western borders and there were complications were the ministers refuse to cooperate to handle the increase in thugs and crime.

He was fast at writing down letters and signing documents but his mind wandered to his consort. There was his guilty conscience, screaming at him of why he treated his husband so roughly on their first night together.

A piece of himself tried to justify while the rest of him only felt remorse and thought they were back at square one when the consort didn't respond to his invitation for last night's dinner. He perked up when his door was pushed open.

(m/n) could hear gasps and whispers from the servants, he rolled his eyes and glared at a few of them who immediately scuttled away as he trotted past them. Ivan was behind him, he himself was taken aback when he requested to see Daisuke as he led him to the prince's office.

The guards bowed to him as they pushed the door open, revealing a shocked ravenette who had his mouth wide open in shock.

"(m/n)...I mean, Lord (m/n)! What are you doing here-" "Was this supposed to be compensation?"

Daisuke squinted his eyes at the card (m/n) was holding. The one he sent along with the treasure chest. "Compensation?" "Was this compensation for my body?"

Immediately, Ivan excused himself, shutting the doors close. Daisuke stood to defend himself. "What- no! It's for the villa. It's what you wanted, right?" (m/n) glared at the card before crushing it in his grip. "It felt like you only sent it because we slept together, Your Highness."

"I-" The prince sighed. "Look, I'm not in the mood to argue today. Can we just not do this?" He groaned, sitting back in his chair, going over the papers again. (m/n) stared at him before his eyes trailed to the rest of the interior.

Picture frames, bookshelves, even a lounge couch and a coffee table in burgundy and brown accents. He walked around the office, trailing his fingers over the decoration. "Do you stay in here often, Your Highness?"

Daisuke eyed the consort, his fingers massaging his forehead. "...I do. It's my office, I do all my paperwork here." (m/n) hummed, as he placed back a book he had pulled out, not fully understanding the writing.

"...I see that you're in distress, Your Highness. More than usual today." Daisuke wasn't sure if that was a jab at how heated he gets during their arguments or out of genuine concern. "...There's some trouble at the borders. The West is not cooperating currently. I'll have to refer to my father for this matter."

(m/n) leaned on the table, his palm close to Daisuke's hand as the consort kneeled down in front of the prince, pushing him and his chair back. "What are you doing?!" Daisuke had a clear blush on his face, his face abashed and (m/n) could already see the rising tent in his pants.

"...the sex yesterday was nice. It was really nice." "...Oh..." And here the prince was worried he was too malicious with the consort. "Usually, I'd prefer some physical aftercare." "Physical?" "Just...holding me would be nice."

(m/n) swiped or tied his hair back. "But it seemed that you are in need of a different type of care, Your Highness." Daisuke's eyes widened as the (h/c) tugged his zipper down.

He was jitterish, his fingers shaky as the consort gave him the best head he ever had. The first one, in fact and (m/n) left him in his office in a fucked out state, wiping his mouth.

His personal guard peeked inside to see Daisuke drooling on his desk, his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

Ever since then, the consort had frequent visits to the Grand Palace where Daisuke resided. He would often lounge in his office while the prince worked and Daisuke really favoured this new outcome.

They would banter every now and then but it wouldn't turn into a full-blown argument and he was grateful for that on its own. Meals were shared and they would go on walks in the garden together, he found out the (h/c) preferred the greenhouse the most.

They even went on a date! A tour of the capital like Daisuke had promised on their wedding day although he couldn't deny he was a bit jealous when (m/n) revealed some of the places he brought the (h/c) to had been visited by him and his guards.

Speaking of, Daisuke replaced all of the knights that had previously attended to the consort, switching out with older and more loyal guards, some of them returning from wars. The prince just wanted to make sure (m/n) had no paladdins he would be attracted to.

"You can always claim me again." The (h/c) bit the ravenette's ear when Daisuke told him of the new rearrangement. Cue to them fucking like rabbits in the library, knights were scarred as they stood guard outside.

It also seemed that the prince was slowly introduced to public affection. (m/n) touching him fondly or even teasingly in open places. He wasn't used to this but he was slowly adapting. He was also very pleased when he received no more reports of the (h/c) fooling around with other men, maybe his faux warning worked a bit too well.

Although the consort had been acting a bit too bold lately.

"What do you mean I can't enter?! He's my husband!"

Daisuke quickly diffused the situation, fetching (m/n) who was outside of his chambers, arguing with some of the guards who had refused his entry due to him occupied in the bath.

"Next time, let him pass freely." He whispered to one of the paladdins as (m/n) slumped on Daisuke's bed, noting the immediate sinking the mattress had. He propped himself up sideways while the maids helped the prince tidy himself up after his bath.

The (h/c) frowned, seeing the ravenette exposed around others, with water droplets dripping down his muscles, his bathrobe giving a window to his chest, and the fluffy robe was NOT hiding the fact that he had a huge dick.

"How long are they going to be here?"

As soon as those words escaped the consort's lips, half of the maids present froze, hesitating to continue with their chores as Daisuke turned to his husband.

"Do you prefer I use butlers instead?" He offered to switch, he didn't want (m/n) to have any discomfort of him being bare around the opposite sex.

"...No." "...Then is there a problem?"

(m/n) had been lying on his stomach, swinging his legs playfully before he rolled himself over on his back. "It's best if they weren't in the room for now." He purred, looking at Daisuke dead in the eyes as he teasingly spread his legs.

"Oh." The prince slapped himself in the face, letting his palm stay on his cheek as he sat there in growing arousal. "Leave."

The servants followed as they're told and the prince raised his face when the door clicked shut. "You ought to stop being so bold, Lord (m/n)." He groaned, although stripping himself and climbing over the (h/c).

"Just (m/n) is fine." The consort purred, wrapping his arms around the prince's neck, swiping his tongue on his lips together.

The longer Daisuke was around (m/n), the more he realised how much of a vixen he had in his arms. The (h/c) was so experienced and demanding in bed, intentionally moaning loudly about how big his cock is just so he could embarrass Daisuke although the prince was more than happy to indulge into his carnal desires.

The prince stared up at the ceiling, the room was dark, curtains shut closed, his plans to venture out to the ministry cancelled, he laid in his bed next to the similarly naked consort.

In his mind, he thought back to his childhood dreams, of owning a fairytale love story.

"What are you thinking of?"

He glanced to his left to see (m/n) on his side, staring at the prince while pulling up the blanket up to his chest. "Nothing, really." "Liar, you were really deep in thought."

"..." Daisuke contemplated whether he should reveal his childish dreams. "...When I was a kid, my father would tell me stories. Storybooks, of prince and princesses. And I thought that maybe one day, I get to have my own fairy tale too."

The consort next to him was quiet, although he didn't see his expression, still staring up to his painted ceiling.

"And I just thought of the present."

There were some rustling and the consort placed his head directly next to his, touching shoulders. (m/n) was frowning, his arm reaching to hug Daisuke at his waist. "I mean, life changes doesn't it? The fact that we're even tolerating each other is something we should be thankful for."

"That is true." "You're still in fret. Did you not get the happy ending you desired?"

The prince actually gave some thought into it. A stupid decision, and it hurt the consort. "It was not the one that I expected but I'm satisfied regardless."

"...Good to know..."

Daisuke felt the consort pull back and faced his body away from him. The prince pondered for a moment at the sudden change in behaviour. He wordlessly went up behind the (h/c), pulled him close, his chest to (m/n)'s back and silently went to sleep, unaware of the brewing storm thundering in the consort's mind.

[END SCENE]

[unedited]

PREVIEW FOR...

DEAREST HUSBAND [PART II]

ROYALLY FUCKED [PART III]

Afterthoughts...

Daisuke and (m/n) after discovering hate sex:

Surprise! This will be a three-part installment. I forgot how much I loveee writing historical fiction and i just had so many ideas i couldnt fit them into one!

I really did try to aim how the reader isnt completely in the right although he is somewhat justified (will be further explored). Theres some clashing where Daisuke Yuichi is canonically Japanese but the aesthetic here is European-based so please forgive my inaccuracy this one time. I thought of involving interracial marriage but i didnt want to overcomplicate things.

If you read the part where Daisuke asked how (m/n)'s language was good, it hinted that one of the other reason our reader arrived late to the palace was him sleeping around with men of the East.

And yeah, the ending part. Daisuke lowkey in the wrong. I would be so offended if my husband said that, idc if arranged or not.

Ill release the second chapter if i like how the audience receives this one! (As in if u guys like it or not haha) im very hoping to find a beta reader btw. Stay tuned!

Taglist:

@tehyunnie @rainnyydaysworld @webwanderer @a-short-ass-disappointment @chikai-k @mello-life25 @miyuuuki @simpsations @sugar-p0p @kiiyoooo @helloanime @garlicforthewin @jaxyy219 @mikahrh @gayaristocrat @m4r13ll @pinxeajin @gyarukitti @syyyy4ever

#oukabarsburg #bottom male reader #sub male reader #male reader #x male reader #x bottom male reader #uke male reader #oc x male reader #daisuke yuichi #male reader smut #oc x male reader smut #oc x reader smut #oc x reader #oc smut #male oc #prince x reader #prince x male reader #historical #Spotify

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flowerandblood · 2 months

Text

White Marriage (2)

[ Kingdom of Heaven • King Baldwin x female ]

[ warnings: fingering, virginity loss, sex content, poetic smut, angst, a detailed description of the deadly disease and the unpleasant symptoms associated with it ]

[ description: After their nuptials, the court becomes even more divided. The King, however, wishes to spend the last years of his life experiencing the joys he finds in the closeness of his wife. His bride was never to lose her maidenhood, however, is what the King has proclaimed to his subjects what he really craves? ]

Author’s Note: After the warm reception of the first part, which I didn't expect at all, here is the second part of their story! I have to admit that I had a great time writing it and I love them. I tried to leave some realism and not forget about his illness and the fact that it is contagious.

Part Two of Paradise Fruit. Can be read as a standalone story.

Word count: 4.600

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

Their nuptials were humble – apart from the Archbishop, who gave them his blessing, uniting them for eternity, they were accompanied only by Sibylla and her husband, enraged, thinking that the King was just fulfilling his sneaky plan.

He truly believed that he would have exposed her to such danger, condemning her to the cruel disease that tormented his members to try to beget an heir.

She was grateful to her Princess for lending her one of her beautiful, gold-embellished robes that day – Sibylla knew what purpose this marriage was intended to serve and that it would not change the order of succession.

She was to be his comfort, a moment of relief and solace, nothing more.

Nevertheless, she smiled, feeling happiness filling her heart, her king's gaze tender and full of affection, from which she felt warmth in her chest.

She thought that she had fallen in love with him.

Their marriage was announced to all and sundry, and she became a king's wife, but not a queen.

She was not bothered by this.

She was assigned a chamber right next to his – she could now visit him whenever she wished and did not have to worry about the King's honour.

As she walked into his quarters, clad only in a thin night robe, a smile of happiness adorned her face. Baldwin, though tired, also seemed pleased and rose at the sight of her.

"Wife." He said, entwining his hands behind his back.

His figure was all clad in white as usual, though the material of his wardrobe seemed thicker to her, a silver mask on his face.

To her surprise she noticed that his gloves were black, apparently made of leather.

She bowed to him, recognising that she was not intending to think about it now.

"My King. My husband. You are the man of your word." She whispered warmly, looking up at him from above her long lashes, feeling a pleasant tickle in her lower abdomen meeting his gaze, hot and dark.

"I am." He replied. "I couldn't deny myself this pleasure. It was an act of my selfishness, not my greatness."

She blinked, cocking her head, feeling for some reason amused by his words.

"Does it matter now?" She asked lightly – something flashed across his gaze, she thought he smiled.

"No. Not in the slightest."

She looked at him expectantly, waiting for his orders – he had announced that because of his disease he would not take her maidenhood and their marriage would be white, however, after what had gone on between them earlier, she did not think her husband would want to remain an ascetic in every aspect.

"Let me see you." He said finally, his voice like a sigh.

She knew what he meant, she knew what he wanted – she could see it in his gaze. Her hands rose to the small knot above her breasts, untying it, slipping the thin material of her nightgown off her shoulders in a light, gentle motion, remaining bare before him.

She shuddered, feeling the chill of the chamber surround her body despite the flames burning in the fireplace beside her, her lips parted as she noticed her king's gaze shift, misty and filled with a familiar, hot desire.

For a moment he looked at her with his head tilted, as if he was simply admiring her, nothing more.

"My physicians have said that the leather material, as opposed to linen, will ensure that you are protected from the touch of my bare skin and what it may cause." He said, tentatively extending his hand to her, and she felt her heart thump harder in her chest with joy.

She could touch him.

They both drew in a loud breath as she placed her fingers on his palm, letting him pull her a little closer, the spot between her thighs all swollen with desire, slowly growing moist with her wetness.

Her lips parted with her gasp of surprise as his other hand touched her cheek – she snuggled her face into it, placing affectionate kisses of her lips on it.

"I would give all the treasures of this chamber, my possessions and my gold coins to feel the taste of your lips on mine." He gasped, looking at her as if she were a precious jewel, a spring water that quenches thirst, an olive tree that feeds whole nations.

She closed her eyes, listening to the sound of the sizzling fire and their hitched breaths as his thumb ran over her full, lower lip. She parted it before him and let him slide it deeper, between her teeth. Her lips clamped slowly around his finger, looking up at him with desire as she began to suck.

A low groan escaped his throat at the sight, clearly imagining that he was forcing something completely different down her throat.

He placed his other hand on her back, at the same time pulling her closer and holding her at arm's length, apparently afraid that even his breath was dangerous to her, possibly dooming her to his fate.

She moaned when he gave in, when his mask pressed against her forehead, his eyelids all red around his bright pupils.

"– forgive me –"

She didn't know why his words, filled with so much sadness and desire, made her throw her hands on his shoulders, her lips clinging greedily to the unpleasantly cold, silver structure of his mask.

She closed her eyes, hearing his gasp of surprise, placing lingering, hot kisses full of her saliva and tongue on the surface of it, imagining he was able to feel it, his hands sinking into her hair.

"– touch me, husband – I crave you –" She mewled helplessly, running her hands over the material beneath which was his head, his hair, his jaw and neck.

She squealed when he lifted her suddenly by her buttocks, the quiet hiss that escaped his lips made her understand that this sudden movement must have caused him pain.

She stroked the back of his head as he moved towards his bed with his face nestled between her breasts, not wanting to show him any sympathy now that he wanted to be a strong man in her eyes.

He let out a breath as he laid her down on the soft sheets, his gaze full of tenderness as he looked at her face.

"– lie on your stomach and spread your thighs –" He said calmly and gently, however, something in his words and their undertone made her feel a heat in her lower abdomen and a wonderful tickling sensation.

She obeyed his command immediately, feeling her legs become stiff as he caught her around the waist and lifted her hips, forcing her to buck her buttocks in front of him in a shameless manner.

She heard his heavy breath as he positioned himself behind her on his knees, running his leather-gloved hands over the soft skin of her buttocks, herself panting hard, knowing where he was looking now.

"– the reason why Paris abducted Helen of Troy – the cause of the downfall and delight of all mankind locked deep between my wife's thighs –" He whispered in such a sensual way that she moaned pathetically, clenching her eyelids as his thumb ran over her leaking, throbbing womanhood.

Apparently he liked the sound she made, because one of his hands slid into her hair, holding her in place, reassuring him that she wouldn't take advantage of his weakness and try to expose him in an act of pleasure, endangering him and herself.

"– lie still – shhhh, my love –" He whispered, hearing her innocent cry of desperation as his fingers began to trail around her oversensitive, swollen bud, waves of tingling and tickling sensations spreading through her body dulling her mind, causing her to emit uncontrollable sounds.

She could hear him panting as she watched what he was doing to her, his fingers digging into her delicate folds with a loud click of her wetness, barely teasing her – her hips began to roll back and forth, responding to his treatments, trying to find a better source of rubbing.

"– have mercy on me –" She mumbled with difficulty, her lips parted wide in a girlish moan when, at her request, the tip of his middle finger burst into her fleshy, hot interior.

The experience was at once full of discomfort and delight – at first the material of his glove was cold, but in time her body temperature enveloped him with its heat.

"– God – so warm –" He whispered in a voice trembling with emotion, in some involuntary, primitive reflex forcing her to take his finger deeper inside her, meeting resistance.

"– yes or no –" He breathed out, making her gasp.

Yes or no.

She froze, feeling her heart begin to pound like mad, knowing that he had lied: he had only declared their marriage as white so that after his death his sister's husband would not attempt to kill her out of fear that she might be carrying his heir.

The future King.

"– yes –"

Her fingers clenched on the fabric of the sheet beneath her as he pierced something inside her in one aggressive motion, along with her squeal taking her maidenhood.

She began to wriggle under him with sweet whimpers of delight as his first finger was joined by a second, opening her wide for him only to fuck her before his eyes.

Tears of pleasure and shock ran down her cheeks as she moaned like a mere whore, spreading her thighs wider, his fingers thicker and longer than hers, stretching her so wonderfully.

"– please –" She whimpered, responding with her hips to each thrust of his hand, the tips of his fingers hitting the sweet spot deep inside her with startling precision again and again, while his thumb teased her little pearl between her folds with reluctance.

She bucked up more, panting loudly along with him, feeling the drops of her own wetness begin to run down her thighs one by one, soaking his hand, the fingers of his free palm clenched in her hair.

"– go on – please your King –" He commanded in a low voice from which her weeping cunt clenched around his fingers in convulsions of ecstasy, the sweet, stupefying pleasure making her cry out loudly, her legs bent at the knees quivering all over from the exertion.

"– a-ah –" She mumbled out, her face red with emotion as her body shook with a fulfilment so strong that her leaking, hot walls began to simply suck him inside. He felt it and moaned in a boyish manner, stopping moving, keeping his two fingers slipped deep into her body, just wanting to feel how it pulsed around them.

"– yes – just like that – easy now – easy –" He praised her, slowly sliding them out of her, and she swallowed hard, letting her body fall back onto the bed, panting loudly.

She sighed as he turned her onto her back and spread her thighs, looking at her with eyes black with desire, his hand slipped under the material of his robe.

Only then did she notice that his garment had a slit in the area underneath where his manhood was.

Although he had not allowed her to look at it then, now that he had grasped it in his hand and directed it at her throbbing womanhood, she saw the fat, pink head of it, dripping with his desire.

His hand clamped down on her soft breast, careful, however, not to cause her pain as he began to squeeze his swollen erection in his palm, with sharp, aggressive strokes from the very base to the tip chasing his fulfilment.

She moaned innocently, surprised, tilting her head back as his thumb ran over her hard, sensitive nipple, playing with it, something like satisfaction flashed through his gaze when he saw that this kind of touch was giving her pleasure.

"– my wife is so eager – so devoted to her poor husband – hm? –" He gasped, his breathing heavy as he accelerated, already squeezing only the base of his manhood, rocking his hips back and forth, struggling to restrain himself from opening her up, from sinking into her, from feeling her.

She rolled her hips forward encouragingly, rubbing her moist cunt against the thick head of his erection, drawing a low, almost animalistic groan from his throat, his silhouette moving slightly away.

"– no –" He growled with pain and anger, involuntarily returning again and again to her warmth, letting the tip of it push against her swollen, thirsty slit.

"– please, my King – put inside me –" She begged, but he shook his head and simply came with a loud moan of pleasure, his pearly, sticky spend spewing onto her womanhood.

He stared at this shameless sight, his head bowed low, his breath heavy as if he had just accomplished some heroic feat.

"– you need to bathe in hot water – immediately – dress yourself, I'll call the servants –" He exclaimed, rising abruptly from the bed, covering his manhood back with his robe, wiping his hand sticky with her wetness into its material.

She stood up quickly, horrified that he was surely angry with her for not listening to him, hastily dressing her nightgown over her shoulders, bursting into sobs.

"– forgive me, my King – forgive me, do not send me away –" She begged, but he did not listen to her, ordering his servant to immediately bring the tub into his chamber and fill it with hot water.

Although it slightly burned her skin when she stepped inside, her husband-king explained that the heat killed whatever was spreading his disease, and the oils and herbs that were thrown in were to prevent any other infections.

She looked at him with big eyes as he sat beside her, dipping his leather-gloved hand into the water along with a piece of cloth, sinking it then between her thighs, making sure not a single drop of his seed remained on it.

"– will you forgive me, my beloved? –" She muttered pleadingly, watching his face. He looked at her with a chastising look and sighed heavily.

"– it is I who should beg your forgiveness – I have allowed myself to be carried away by my desires, which have suppressed my reason – do not fear, it will not happen again – after your bath you will return to your chamber and will no longer visit me in the evenings –" He said calmly, looking away.

Her heart stopped in her throat, her brow arching in pain and disbelief at his words.

"Are you sending me away?" She muttered with difficulty. He looked at her, surprised apparently by her question and reaction, his hand froze in mid-motion.

"You can't sleep here because I am here. My breath, my proximity are deadly. I am exposing you even now. Before sleep, my physicians pull off most of the fabric that covers my body. I will never let you see this." He said and swallowed hard, seeing as tears one by one began to run down her cheeks.

"You break my heart. At least let my bed be placed next to yours. Drape it with curtains so that I may not see you or your body at night, but that I may at least hear your voice, hear your presence in the same chamber." She said pleadingly, touching his beautiful silver mask with her hand, his gaze tired and sad, filled with pain.

He hesitated.

"The chamber is not locked. Place my bed by the windows, by the fresh air. Do not condemn me to solitude, show me mercy, my King." She whispered, once again placing a kiss on his mask, on his cold, silver lips, his sigh testifying that he pressed his lips on the other side, reciprocating her caress.

"You are my doom."

At his command, her bed was moved to his chamber, raising voices full of resentment from some of the monks and priests, commenting on the fact that her maidenhood might be called into question.

"White marriage, to my knowledge, does not mean that husband and wife live separately. On the contrary, we should indulge in prayers together and be each other's comfort by day and night."

Honour Knights and Lords were concerned about what kind of comfort his little wife was to him.

Each day, the physicians sent by King Saladin checked the condition of her body and whether there were any signs of infection – her husband watched it from the sidelines in horror, relief in his gaze each time he heard from their lips that his wife was in good health.

However, taking advantage of the fact that the King had left the chamber after her examination, returning to his duties, one of his medics approached her, pale.

"My Lady. Spending so much time in the King's company, you will certainly contract his disease. Often its first symptoms do not appear until years after infection. It is possible that it is already too late." He muttered, bowing before her.

She swallowed loudly, looking at him calmly, feeling discomfort in her stomach.

"Would my husband live to see the time when the first symptoms could be apparent? If it turned out I was infected." She mumbled, and he shook his head.

"No, my Lady."

She smiled at his words and nodded.

"Thank you. Assure my King that I am well and can abide with him as before."

The man looked at her, in his eyes disbelief but at the same time a kind of admiration, compassion and warmth from which she felt a squeeze in her throat.

"My Lady."

The days in Jerusalem were often sunny and hot, and as her husband rejoiced at the sight of her bare body, she walked around his chambers naked, feeling like a Greek goddess, Aphrodite or Artemis.

She would read old volumes, play the lute or embroider while spreading out comfortably on large cushions so that he could see her, and he would admire her from afar like a nymph.

"– my wife is like a fruit of paradise – like a goddess born of the sea foam –" He murmured, looking at her contentedly, bent over the dozens of parchments spread out on his table.

The servants knew that they could not enter his quarters without permission, for although he was gentle and affectionate in his manner, he did not wish to share this shameless sight with anyone.

However, what most of their days consisted of were conversations.

Her husband was a great speaker – they were discussing the Bible, faith, philosophy, poetry, art, war and history for long hours.

At nights, when he couldn't sleep from his pain, hearing his sighs and quiet moans that he tried to suppress for her sake, she would ask him questions.

She couldn't touch his hands or embrace him – his body needed rest, to breathe to keep from rotting and for at least a few hours a day it was supposed to be uncovered.

"Christ says to the adulteress: go and sin no more. However, he knows, as God incarnate, that this is not his command, but a recommendation. Sin is the fatal disease of every human being and we all sin in thought, in speech, in deed, in neglect. This is no reason to be sad. Christ is merely saying: live in such a way as not to cause yourself or others suffering, try to live with dignity, in harmony with yourself and your Father in Heaven."

"Is it known what happened to her afterwards?" She asked quietly, looking at his silhouette, seeing only its outline on the other side of his bed.

"Some identify her with Mary Magdalene or Mary, the sister of Martha and Lazarus. But it could also have been a person not mentioned by name in the Gospel. She certainly followed Christ and became one of his disciples." He said, his voice clearer without his mask, calm and soft.

"Do you think God considers me an adulteress?" She asked in a trembling voice and heard him shift restlessly in his bed.

"Why should such an unjust and harsh judgment fall on my wife? Because she is devoted to me with her soul, heart and body? Haven't you done everything I asked of you and even more? You are as pure as the sheet I lie on, as the delicate fabrics I wear on my skin. Your beauty makes me even more aware of my ugliness." He whispered with pain that made her swallow hard, shocked by his words.

"To me, you are the most beautiful of men. Before I met you, I swore to God that I would never marry, that I would not share Sibylla's fate. He showed me mercy, filling my heart with a burning feeling for you, my beloved."

He was silent, but she heard him exhale loudly, his trembling sigh full of suffering.

He cried.

"If only you could look at my face, see what a disgusting caricature of a human I am, you would understand what a great mistake you made." He howled, choking on his own tears, clearly letting out what had been weighing on his heart for weeks.

The fear that if she accidentally saw his face, she would scream in terror and run away.

"Is your faith in me so weak? I hoped you think of me with respect." She mumbled, heartbroken, feeling a squeeze in her throat.

She heard him swallow hard at her words, clearly terrified that he had offended her.

"I do, my love. Forgive me."

"I fell in love with a human, not an earthly shell." She said, but he didn't answer her.

She watched the silhouette of her husband and his physicians each evening through the curtains, seeing them only as through a fog in the candlelight, their shadows dancing around her.

She could hear his hisses and cries of pain as they treated his wounds, see the outline of his head, always with his back turned to her.

When they were finally left alone and he lay down on his bed, she heard his sigh of relief, his face, though she couldn't see it, turned towards her.

"My sweetest?" He whispered, and she smiled warmly, feeling a wonderful delight in her heart every time he called her that.

"I'm here, my love." She murmured, twisting comfortably in her bed.

"I desire you."

She swallowed hard, feeling her warm womanhood throb around nothing.

"I desire you too, my beloved."

They were both silent for a long moment, the tension around them palpable in the air.

"– one of my physicians –" He began in a trembling voice. "– at my request, he created something that I can – put on my length so as not to touch you directly – from what I understand, he made it from the intestine of some animal and disinfected it – he assured me that it would be safe for both of us, but –"

"– yes –" She muttered, feeling her heart begin to pound like crazy at the thought that he wanted to do this to her.

"– you know it's a risk –" He said, his voice quivering with longing, the shadow of his silhouette turned towards her.

"– I knew it from the very beginning – I don't care what happens to my body – I just want to feel my beloved husband inside me –" She whispered with embarrassment and that seemed to be enough for him.

She heard him stand up, quickly putting the cloth and mask over his head as he appeared on the other side, beside her bed, looking as he usually did – the same black leather gloves on his hands, his fingers clenched on a small wooden box.

"– undress –" He commanded, and she did so, literally ripping off herself her nightgown, laying down on her stomach.

His silhouette was instantly next her, kneeling behind her buttocks, his breath hitched and quickened when she heard the rustling of something and another strange, sticky sound.

After a moment, his fingers tentatively and gently ran over her swollen, pink folds, collecting her wetness, which had already managed to trickle down her thigh.

"– no other treatments are needed – my sweet wife is leaking like a forest stream –" He hummed with delight and admiration, she felt her cheeks blush with embarrassment.

They both sighed as she felt something thick and hard begin to push against her puffy slit, opening her wide – despite her lack of preparation her cunt pulsed in delight, moist with desire.

The feeling of him deep inside her, so intense and definitive, of how hard his long, thick erection stretched her fleshy walls was shockingly pleasurable and terrifying at the same time, as if her body no longer belonged to her.

"– yes, yes, yes –" She mewled as she felt his hands clamp down on her buttocks, spreading them apart as if he were tearing a piece of fruit, another determined thrust of his hips sinking him completely into her hot core with their moans of pleasure.

"– fuck –"

She wasn't sure if he had ever cursed before, but then, as his hips immediately began to pound into her with loud slaps, nothing more than their panting, grunts and words insulting to God left his mouth.

"– we'll do it frequently – so that you can remember this feeling well – your husband deep inside your warmth –" He exhaled in a way from which her little cunt began to squeeze him greedily, sucking his erection inside, her lips parted wide in a loud, helpless whines of pleasure so strong that she had to close her eyes, her hands clenched on the bedding.

His gloved fingers dug into the delicate structure of her hips, imposing a more aggressive pace on her, his fat manhood bursting deep between her fleshy walls without slipping out of her, hitting again and again her sweet little spot.

"– yes – yes, I love you, I love you, I love you, please –" She cried out, feeling the tension in her silky womanhood reach its zenith, the pleasant tingling in her belly testifying to the fact that she was about to reach her peak with him and dreamed of nothing else.

He moaned low, slamming into her like mad, feeling her weeping core clench around his twitching length more and more, his manhood hard as a rock with desire.

"– G-God – oh, fuck, yes, yes, my sweetest, let me, ah –" He gasped in delight, coming deep inside her, filling the thin material overlying his manhood with his release.

Her eyes closed and her mouth parted wide as her peak came down on her like a thunderbolt, shaking her body with convulsions of delicious delight.

They both moaned and panted, rocking their hips for a moment more with the loud click of her slick cunt, his hands soothingly kneading the skin of her buttocks.

"– I will order more of this to be prepared – so that I can fulfil my marital duty every night –" He sighed with satisfaction.

She involuntarily smiled under her breath, looking up at him over her shoulder, the moonlight shining outside the window reflected in his mask.

"– what kind of white marriage is this? –" She asked teasingly, rolling her hips, feeling his half-soft manhood pulsate inside her again.

"– our kind – do not fret – I will explain it to God once I am before him – I will tell him that I loved my wife too much –"

_____

Author's note: Between their wedding day and this next act, weeks actually pass during which he doesn't touch her (she mentions the days spent in his company and how she is examined every day, how he watches her naked, but apart from that nothing happens between them). He is afraid that if he tries to touch her again, he won't hold back (he had already had difficulty not taking her on their wedding night), so he tried to think of something so as not to touch her directly with his manhood. Their intimacy is an act of their desperation, the pain of knowing that their marriage will last a year or two at most. The desire to touch her and feel her is as strong in him as the desire to protect her and push her away. Their love is tragic and complete to me, and she knows what she is risking (she knew from the very beginning).

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allthegeopolitics · 5 months

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The United Kingdom has returned 32 gold and silver treasures stolen from the Asante Kingdom more than 150 years ago in what is today’s Ghana on a six-year loan, Ghanaian negotiators have said. The artefacts, comprising 15 items from the British Museum and 17 from the Victoria and Albert Museum (V&A), were looted from the court of the Asante king during the turbulent 19th-century clashes between the British and the Asante people. Ghanaian authorities have for years tried to reclaim gold treasures looted by British soldiers from the Asante kingdom, which is also known as Ashanti.

#Ghana #Africa #UK #United Kingdom #colonialism #world news

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the-cimmerians · 1 month

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Queer and trans folk around the world often take an interest in the athletes from our community, and Outsports even collects a database of all the the out LGBTQ competitors. While JK Rowling and 99 percent of conservative media were harassing two cis women boxers, 195 QT athletes represented 26 nations and none, but we’ll get to that. That makes this the queerest Olympics ever, beating out the total of 186 out athletes in Tokyo and, if Queer Nation granted citizenships, would be the 14th largest national contingent at the games. That hypothetical Queer Nation would also have placed sixth in the medal count, tying the Netherlands with 15 golds but falling neatly between the Dutch and host country France on the strength of silvers and bronzes.

One happy bit of news is that in both golds and overall medal count, Queer Nation beat out every single country in the world that criminalizes same-sex boinking. The only bad news seems to be that people competing in the men’s events seem a little underqueered compared to the women. Can’t we at least get a few interested in the Greco-Roman wrestling? Yr Wonkette is just asking.

...

Sure, justice in silver and gold for badass bisexual Black woman Sha’Carri Richardson, excluded from Tokyo on the basis of smoking legal weed in Eugene, Oregon, was as sweet as sativa; it was fun to see Diana Taurasi go out on the queer top with her sixth Olympic gold in a row (team USA’s eighth consecutive women’s basketball gold); and seeing the shoulders on those women rugby players was a dream come true. But we want to speak about someone who didn’t represent any country at all: Cindy Ngamba.

Ngamba is a middleweight (75kg) boxer originally from Cameroon. At 11 years old some family members fled to the United Kingdom as refugees, and brought Ngamba along. The family maintains it had the proper approval for Cindy, but that when her uncle returned to Cameroon it was lost. The UK Home Office has been threatening to deport her since the age of 16, when she was accepted to university and realized she couldn’t produce her visa for her college paperwork.

Despite the threats, Ngamba fought and won many times in the UK’s amateur boxing competitions, having started as a hobbyist in the local Bolton Lads and Girls Club program. She also went on to get an undergraduate degree with honors, all while threats of deportation hung over her head. After winning a UK national championship, she met then-PM Theresa May celebrating her win and the efforts of the Lads & Girls Club where she trained. One might think that the UK might eventually forgive an 11-year-old girl for not keeping track of her paperwork herself, but the Home Office has remained resolute denying Ngamba regularized status.

What makes all this both horrifyingly inhumane and also relevant to this article is that Ngamba is an out lesbian. She has been consistently denied a path to citizenship or even legal residency, only escaping deportation because of her ability to document horror after horror inflicted on queer residents of Cameroon. International law prohibits sending a refugee back to their nation of citizenship or previous residence if they would face persecution and risk of great harm, a crime called “refoulement.”

“If I was sent back, I can be in danger,” Ngamba said. “So, I was given the refugee status to be safe and protected."

Unable to represent the UK and unable to compete in qualifying competitions in Cameroon, Ngamba got an opportunity that no other stateless athlete had ever shared before 2016: she was named to the IOC Refugee Olympic Team. So far that team has only been allowed to compete in the summer games, and only in Rio, Tokyo, and this year in Paris. (They will be allowed to compete in the Winter Games for the first time in 2026.) Given the incredible barriers most refugees face, it is perhaps not surprising that no Refugee Team member has ever won a medal. But while Ngamba has faced incredible legal problems and a ruthlessly anti-immigrant government her entire time in the UK, she at least had better training facilities in her local Lads & Girls than most refugees can dream.

And the dreams paid off. Team Refugee got its first medal ever when Ngamba took home middleweight bronze. "I just want to tell every refugee out there, whether they are an athlete or not, to never give up,” she said after being asked to carry the Olympic flag at the opening of the games. When she won, the whole refugee team took to the internet to celebrate:

“The Refugee Olympic Team is incredibly proud of Cindy Ngamba, the first EOR athlete and the first-ever refugee medallist at the Olympics,” the team posted on X, formerly Twitter. “Today, we are speechless. Cindy did it. Refugees did it!”

Yes, yes you did.

#queer history #Wonkette #Crip Dyke #2024 Olympics #queer athletes

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middleearthpixie · 2 months

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The Ties That Bind ~ Chapter One

Summary: Although Erebor is his once more, Thorin knows there is still a great threat to the peace of Middle Earth. Azog is gone, but another has taken his place and has sworn to finish what Azog began. Erebor is back, but it’s sadly lacking in protection and as much as he hates the thought of it, Thorin knows there is one thing that will guarantee the safety and continuation of his line.

War is coming and all Eirlys of Mirkwood wishes to do is fight alongside her brother Legolas and the other elves, united with Men and Dwarves in their attempt to quell the renewed tensions between them and the orc army of the north. But, her father, Thranduíl has other plans. Unite his kingdom with the newly reestablished kingdom of Erebor and use the power of both to defeat the orcs.

An arranged marriage that neither side wants, but both sides need. But what happens when the two sides realize that maybe—just maybe—being together isn't quite as bad as they'd thought...

Pairing: Thorin x ofc Eirlys of Mirkwood

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.1k

Tag List: @mrsdurin @i-did-not-mean-to @fizzyxcustard @xxbyimm @kibleedibleedoo

@lathalea @legolasbadass @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @knittastically

@guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @ruthoakenshield @frosticenow @quiall321

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@asgardianhobbit98 @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @sazzlep @night-ace @lyl1pad

@mistresskayla-blog1

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Erebor

“Thorin, will you just listen to reason?”

Thorin spun about to stare at his younger sister with a look that would have terrified a lesser person. Although it took more than his ire to make Dís back down, that didn't mean she wouldn’t be sorry she stood up to him in the first place.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me. You are being unreasonable.”

“Am I? Am I truly being so unreasonable? Because from where I stand, I’m being perfectly reasonable.”

“You need to settle down, to marry and hopefully produce an heir. You’ve said so yourself. So, why is this such a terrible idea?”

He rolled his eyes as he paced along the length of the Throne Room. In the two years since he and his Company retook Erebor, and since he finally recovered from the near-fatal wounds he’d received in the process of said reclamation, the kingdom had come a long way. When they’d first returned, the once-mighty kingdom beneath the Lonely Mountain was little more than a ruin, having housed a treasure-obsessed dragon for over a century. It had taken work beyond measure to return the kingdom to its glory and for the first time since he and Balin had first come through the secret door, Thorin thought they might actually accomplish the task.

But, there were rumblings once more. The orc army, nearly decimated with the death of their leader, Azog the Defiler and his son and heir, Bolg, appeared to be growing stronger once again. And while Erebor was on its way to its return, it wasn’t there yet and its army was nowhere near large enough or powerful enough to take on a renewed orc power. Plus, he’d heard the rumors of Sauron, and if those rumors were true, Erebor could be in very real trouble in a very short time.

However…

“She is elven,” Thorin said once he’d reached the far end of the large, rectangular chamber. Erebor’s throne, a massive block of elaborate carved obsidian, etched with gold and silver, was the only thing in the room and that was fine, as Thorin only usually came into it when he needed to think.

“So? The elves fought alongside you, didn't they?”

“She is the daughter of Thranduíl and I’d eat the Arkenstone if anyone told me he would be willing to allow his only daughter to come here.”

“There’s only one way to know. And Kíli said one of Thranduíl’s advisors brought up the possibility of an alliance between his family and ours. They took quite the hit themselves, if you remember. So apparently, he is quite open to the idea.”

He rubbed his forehead with one hand, a heavy sigh rising to his lips. Yes, he needed to think about marrying. And yes, Erebor’s army was only barely such. And finally, yes, an alliance between Erebor’s ruling family and Mirkwood’s ruling family would be wise and powerful. Especially now that the elves of Rivendell had been slowly taking leave of Middle Earth. They’d just begun their exodus, but he knew from his last visit to Rivendell that Elrond was also planning the time when he would join his kin.

But Thranduíl, of all people. The same smug princess king who’d simply tossed Thorin and his company into the Mirkwood dungeons over a perceived slightly that Thorin himself actually had nothing to do with.

And now his sister, and his nephew, (and most likely his nephew’s wife, Tauriel, who had been a captain in the Mirkwood guard) were already making plans and testing the water for him to marry the princess king’s daughter. His only daughter. Who was, no doubt a spoiled and pampered princess to boot.

“She’s very pretty,” Dís broke in, her voice slightly singsong in tone. Then, in her normal voice, she added, “At least, Kíli thought so.”

“Kíli thinks anything female is pretty.”

“Now, that is neither true nor fair.”

Dís was right. They’d traveled to Mirkwood only weeks earlier for Kíli and Tauriel’s wedding, where Thorin had caught a glimpse of Mirkwood’s only princess. Tall. Slim. Hair so blonde it looked almost white. Typical elf of the Woodland Realm. Pretty, but she probably knew it and he could only imagine how conceited she was as a result.

Still, this was one argument he knew he stood almost no chance of winning. Dís had thought her points through and perfectly so. Like it or not, he would most likely be marrying Eirlys of Mirkwood.

He sighed, his shoulders slumping, and lowered his hand. “Dís, think about what you suggest? The Line of Durin would become half elven.”

“And the line of Thranduíl would become half dwarven.” She offered up a mischievous smile. “And I take a rather childish delight in that, myself.”

“Of course you do.” He strolled back toward her, then skirted her to sink into the cold obsidian throne. “And you see no problem with this? None at all?”

“Thorin,” she moved closer, her hand coming to rest on his knee, “is the idea so abhorrent to you? I mean, you do have to marry sooner rather than later and if Kíli is to be believed, you could do far worse than Eirlys of Mirkwood.”

Despite what he’d said only minutes earlier, Kíli did have a eye for pretty girls, and Eirlys was most definitely striking from a distance. Up close, she was probably even more so. If nothing else, he’d at least enjoy gazing upon her. Small comfort, but if it was the only one, he’d take it.

But Thranduíl.

He drew in a deep breath. Exhaled slowly. Then met his sister’s gaze and he knew he was doomed. “What if she does not agree with this?”

“What if she does? Think of it, Thorin. Think of how much stronger Erebor will be, and how Mirkwood would be forever allied with us as well. This can only benefit us.”

“Which means I will never be rid of Thrandy.”

She didn't trouble to hide her smile. “No, you won’t. But… that might not necessarily be as terrible as you think.”

“Dís, you spent but a short time with him. Barely enough time for a conversation.”

“Oh, don't be silly. Of course I had more than a single conversation with him and I found him to be rather rather personable.”

“Even so.”

“No, no even so. If you insist on forcing a divide where one only exists in your mind, you will never be happy.”

“Dís.”

“Thorin.”

He just stared, and she stared right back. Seeing that he was not going to win this argument, arguing was wasted time and breath, and so he slowly bobbed his head. “Very well. I suppose it might be worth at least discussing it with him.”

“Ah, at last, you’re seeing reason.” Dís grinned. “And I’ll wager she is not putting up that much of a fight about this, either.”

“You have lost your mind!”

Eirlys could only stare at her father, wondering if he truly had gone mad, for that was the only explanation for his ludicrous suggestion that she consider taking Thorin of Erebor as a husband.

But her father remained his usual cool, collected self, his blue eyes unblinking and his face void of emotion as he replied, “Why? Because I promise you that I am quite sane and this is a logical solution the problems at hand.”

“He is a dwarf, Father.”

“I am well aware of that, Eirlys.” He tapped his fingers on the woven branches that made up the arm of the woven sticks and vines that made up his throne. On those fingers, he wore several rings, one set with a gold and brown tiger’s eye stone, another that, like his throne, was woven vines set with a golden topaz. “But, as I know you are also well aware, an alliance with the dwarves would be to our advantage.”

“You speak of the Gundabad orcs, don’t you?” She didn't wait for him to nod, for she knew she was right. She’d overheard him and her older brother, Legolas discussing the orcs from the north the previous evening. “But orcs never come this far south.”

“They have been, though, and you know you heard that as well.”

Heat flitted through her at the stern look in his eyes and the definite scolding in his tone. But that didn't stop her from retorting, “Then allow me to fight, as you do Legolas.”

“No. I take no chances with you, Eirlys. And in Erebor, you would be safe, should our perimeter be breached.”

A small knot twisted in the pit of her belly. “You mean to simply send me away?”

“Of course not. Don’t be a fool.” He slowly rose and carefully made his way down the woven staircase to descend from the throne. He had to be careful because not only was the staircase curved, but he wore a ridiculously long robe of gold, green, and brown silk. His hair, the same nearly-white blond as hers, spilled over his shoulders and down his back like spun gold water, and was held out of his face partially by the crown of woven sticks and leaves, dotted with the same topaz and tiger’s eye as his rings.

He stood only a few inches taller than her, shaking his head as he went on, “You are not being banished, only married.”

“To a dwarf.”

“It is not ideal, but elven royalty is at a premium these days and a suitable husband will not be found amongst those left. King Thorin will give you the life you should have, and that you will be safe, tucked beneath the Lonely Mountain, is only a bit more icing on the cake. He and I have had our differences, but he has since proven his worth and I would trust him with one of my most precious assets.”

She rolled her eyes. “Precious assets?”

That earned her a smile. “You do not agree?”

“You have gone mad.”

He let out a soft sigh, moving to drape his arm about her shoulders, a gesture he would not have done, had anyone else been in the throne room with them. He was loving, but reserved when others were about. After all, he had a reputation to uphold.

“Eirlys, you must know that I have only your best interests in my heart.”

“By marrying me off to a dwarf?”

His smile faded. “Stop that. You met him at Tauriel and Kíli’s wedding and did not look down your nose at him then.”

Yes, she’d met him. Smiled and bobbed her head and then went off to dance with her friends, hardly giving the long-haired, rather shaggy-looking dwarf king a second thought. She had no idea what plans were going to be in the works following the rather modest wedding.

“You didn't intend for me to take him as my husband then. And I don't quite understand why I can’t just stand alongside you and Legolas, should the orc army come this far south. You’ve let other women do so.”

“Enough now. You know full well why I will not allow it. You are not simply other women. You are my daughter. And I will protect you with every fiber of my being and if it means protecting this wood and those within it at the same time? I will do it. And in time, you will thank me. You will see.”

Eirlys offered up a long look. “I’ll not promise to not say I told you so, when you are wrong, you know.”

“I expect no less.”

“Good.”

“But, I have the feeling I won’t be wrong, either.”

She ignored that and the smug smile that accompanied his words. “So, when am I to be shipped off?”

Now it was Thranduíl’s turn to roll his eyes. “You’ll not be shipped anywhere. I will send word to Erebor that Thorin and his company should come here and we will work out the finer details at that point. But, you needn’t worry. The wedding will take place here.”

“Because that is my biggest concern. Where the wedding is to be held.” She pulled away, then turned to face him. “May I go then?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Thank you.”

She was almost to the doorway of woven vines when Thranduíl called, “Eirlys?”

She paused, peering over her shoulder. “Yes?”

“You will see, this is for the best.”

She met his gaze and although she wasn't entirely happy with his decision, she knew that he did have her best interests at heart and would do nothing to put her in any danger. If anything, he was always overprotective of her and had been ever since her mother’s death. Knowing he did what he did out of love was enough to make her sigh softly as she nodded. “I know, Papa.”

His eyes softened and a hint of a paternal smile played at his lips. “Good.”

#Richard Armitage #AU #The Hobbit #Thorin Fic #Thorin Oakenshield #Is it hot in here?#Hobbit Fic #Romance #Hobbit Fanfic #Thorin x OC #Fan fiction #The Hobbit fan fiction

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scarletst0ries · 1 month

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TWST: The EPIC Saga

The Horse and the Infant

Main Character: Jamil Viper(Odysseus)

Technically Jamil x Oc. (I needed to have as many of the canon cast as possible)

I will be following the story of EPIC and by extension the Odyssey but with the names of twst characters and slight rewrites. Style: Songfic? I think?

TW: murder, child endangerment, dramatics, war, PTSD, death, more to be added as it comes up. Masterlist

A/N: Love you Yana! And love you Jorge! I hope I do this story justice

600 men were crammed into a wooden horse. They were all dressed in the Scalding Sands’ traditional soldier’s uniform. They wait with bated breath as they feel the horse begin to move into the capital city of the Kingdom of Heroes. They all turn to their commander, a young man with long, dark, hair, and calculated grey eyes. He sighs and looks to the men around him.

“Alright my brothers, listen closely. Tonight we make those “heroes” pay. Ten years of war they’ve killed us slowly, but tonight we’ll be the ones who slay!”

A buzz of cheers ricochets throughout the horse. He waits for it to die down before starting again, “Think of your wives and your children,” He looks at the snake armband around his right upper arm, ”Your family’s wondering where you’ve been. They’re growing old and yet you’re still here.”

He looks at his men again, admiring the determination in their gaze.

“Do what I say and you’ll see them again,” He offers.

“Yes sir!” The army shouts. It’s overwhelming and would get them found out without the soundproofing spell. He begins to assign specific duties to his best soldiers.

“Jack will lead the charge,” A tall wolf beastman nods.

“Sebek will flank the guard, Silver will let our mates through the gate and take the whole city at large, Rook will shoot any ambush attack, and Epel will stay back,” He waits for each man to nod before continuing, “Sam, secure the princess and protect her, and Floyd, avenge your father, kill the brothers of Rielle!”

“Yes sir!”

The captain’s eyes glow slightly red, giving a binding order to his men, “Find that inner strength now, use that well of pride, fight through every pain now, ask yourself inside: What do live for, what do you fight for, what do you wish for, what do you try for?”

The men echo the last sentiment as the order solidifies. The horse begins to move.

He takes the armband and turns it over in his hands. He thought back to his homeland where people, specifically someone was waiting for him. He sees a woman, his wife, y/n and a small bundle in her hands, their son, Carmon. He slips the gold snake band back onto his arm.

I fight for us.

He can hear the soldiers around him asks each other who they’re living for. Y/n

Who they’re trying for.

Carmon

Who they’re wishing for. He sighs in preparation as he can feel the wooden horse beginning to stop moving.

I’m on my way

Who they’re fighting for. The horse stops moving and the door on the neck slowly starts to open. The soldiers hug the shadows until it opens enough for them to safely jump down. The moment finally comes.

“Attack!” He shouts and the soldiers rush the unsuspecting citizens and army, beginning to slaughter them.

The Scalding Sands’ men are suffering no casualties. Spells of all kinds fly throughout the battlefield. The captain had just finished clearing out a unit of archers until he notices someone behind him. He tries to react but the assailant thrusts a blade through his stomach. He lets out a gut-wrenching scream, trying to grab the blade.

But he finds nothing. Because he wasn’t stabbed.

“What…was that?” He asks, turning behind him to see a tall man with jet black hair, pointed ears, and horns. Malleus, the king of the gods.

Malleus smiles at him and speaks with a deep voice, “A vision, of what is to come. Cannot be outrun, can only be dealt with right here and now.”

Jamil swallows, “Tell me how.”

Malleus chuckles, “I don’t think you’re ready,” he points to the captain, “A mission, to kill someone’s son. A foe who won’t run, it can only be dealt with right here and now.”

“Tell me how. I know that I’m ready.”

“I don’t think you’re ready,” Malleus snaps his fingers and a bundle of blankets float gently into his arms. The captain pulls back the blanket and is greeted with a small, sleeping face. He looks at it horrified.

“It’s just an infant…it’s just a boy. What sort of imminent threat does he pose that I can’t avoid?”

“This is the son of none other of the Kingdom of Heroes very own prince. He will grow from a boy do an avenger. One fueled by rage, if you’re consumed by age,” A group of gods appear behind him, joining Malleus in the prophecy, “If you don’t end him now, you’ll have nothing else to save.”

Malleus grins, “You can say goodbye to y/n.”

The captain looks around panicked, trying to find a solution that does not involve killing the innocent child, “I could raise him as my own.”

Malleus sighs, “He will burn your house and throne.”

“Send him far away from home.”

“He will find wherever you roam.”

“Make sure his past is never known!”

“The gods will make him know.”

“I’d rather bleed for you!”

“This is the will of the gods,” Malleus glares at the captain with an air of finality. The captain looks from the god, to the infant, and back to the god.

“Please don’t make me do this…Don’t make me do this!” His voice is strained. For once, the god looks at him with sympathy and places his hand on his shoulder.

“The blood on your hands is something you won’t lose,” He begins to fade away, “All you can choose is whose…”

He leave the captain alone with the infant. He stares at the burning city around him, before slowly walking to the edge of the wall….

_________________________________________

Some of the characters were inspired by @werewolfbyknight’s idea for the AU

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liebgottsjumpwings · 6 months

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"The drum you stroke. Damn that beat so old. In the ground it grows there. To damn the sun. Gates of gold. In your head you hold, a kingdom molten. May the gods be on your side"

FAYE "FISH" FISCHER | MASTERS OF THE AIR

It made her squint, the way the sun reflected off the water in the stately looking pond across the street. It was early in the evening and the setting sun had been hanging low in the sky. Casting a golden glow onto the peaceful park she overlooked. Faye’s forehead was pressed against the sun-warmed glass. Her view of the park became blurry as the glass began to fog from Faye’s breathing. Rough shapes and colours were what remained of the scene across the street. Golden and green, sun, grass and trees. The same elements that made up the view from her childhood home back in Louisiana. It was also the last she had seen of the Alsatian town of Mulhouse as the train carried her westward. She had closed her eyes as it did, trying to keep the golden and green view in her mind for as long as possible.

“Fischer? Are you even listening?” she heard the OSS officer in front of her ask. “Your cover was about to be blown, we couldn’t just let you keep working in Mulhouse, I’m sure you’re also happy you’re not in the middle of it anymore,” the officer continued. Faye just nodded. He would never know what it was like to be in the heart of it. To have to hide the core elements of your identity. To witness the atrocities. To have to stand and watch, unable to do anything because if you did, you would risk the same fate, while also jeopardizing the OSS’s operation. He would never know, or understand. So she just nodded, her thumb and index finger pressing into the small, silver Magen David that hung from her necklace. “Considering the Krauts are onto you now, we’ve transferred you to a different position. One that doesn’t require you to drop into occupied Europe.” The golden and green outside became even more blurred, and then they disappeared as Faye closed her eyes in anticipation. “The unit is moving you to Thorpe Abbotts, there’s an Air Force base there and they want you to capture and archive their missions-” Faye sat up, interrupting the officer; "why on earth do they need those recorded?” her eyebrows raised. “On paper, it’s something about morale, something they can show back home,” Morale. She huffed, if only they knew.

"They also want photographic evidence of their hit targets, so I guess you're also supposed to do that." the officer continued. This made her move up from her chair, both of her hands leaning onto the desk. "You're gonna make me go up in those planes?!"

BIOGRAPHICAL INFORMATION

Name: Faye Geneva Fischer

Age: 23 (as of September 1943)

Date of birth: November 10, 1920 at 20:08

Place of birth: Plaquemine, Iberville Parish, Louisiana, United States

Hometown: New Orleans, Orleans Parish, Louisiana, United States

Occupation: OSS Combat Photographer

Affiliation: Office of Strategic Services; Photographic Unit & Eight Air Force; 100th Bombardment Group

PLAYLIST | PINTEREST

#masters of the air #masters of the air x oc #hbo war #i've paired her with rosie #oc: faye #rosie rosenthal #mota oc #mota #masters of the air one shot #robert rosenthal

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talesoftheunimagined · 5 months

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[Mistaken Identity] Chapter 1

Rating: General

Fandom: Good Omens (Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett)

Relationships: Aziraphale x Crowley, Aziraphale/Crowley

Tags: Angst, Fluff, Heartbreak, Love, Georgian Era

Summary:

The year is 1797. King George has just gotten over a bout of illness and a member of the English royal family had just gotten married to a Duchess of Holland, so why not throw a masquerade ball to celebrate the occasion and invite all the noblemen and women of The United Kingdom and surrounding areas?

Crowley and Aziraphale meet at the ball. Crowley, though, mistakes some identities.

Chapter 2 is now up! Here

😇😈😇😈😇😈😇😈😇😈😇😈😇😈😇😈😇😈😇😈😇😈

ENGLAND 1797

Candlelight flickered over segments of intricate and boundless tiling, almost making it twinkle beneath the frilled edges of gowns and waltzing heeled shoes, lavishly gilded marble pillars adorned with various flowers joined the flooring to gilded balconies and up again to a florally carved and a gloriously painted plaster ceiling that supported the vast weight of what could well have been solid gold chandeliers that gleamed dully next to the candles that burnt in their arms amongst an abundance of crystal and diamond. Portraits of members of the English aristocracy adorned the walls and appeared with colorful landscapes and shining bright frames of bowls of fruits; apples, grapes, and bananas. A light summer breeze blew in through open windows which divulged any passers-by of the grandeur that the ballroom's event held.

Indeed. That night, at its very core, would be defined by the words grandeur and affluent.

George William Frederick, otherwise known as Mad King George in this modern day and had thrown a masquerade ball after marriage in the family and recovery a long bout of illness (although, his absence at the ball had arisen suspicions of deceit).

"I just absolutely knew that I'd see you here."

"Oh, 'course. Wouldn't miss something like this." He looked at is companion briefly.

Two men stood by a pillar. One clad in deep wine knickerbockers, white high socks and a matching wine tailcoat with shiny new obsidian buttons the colour of crows down; had his hair in neat copper rolls fastened just above his ears and a low ponytail fastened with a black ribbon hung over the back of his collar. Over his face, he wore a finely crafted mask of mahogany red. Gold rimmed the dramatically flicked eye holes that were shaded with black glass so that his eyes weren't visible. Two golden snakes seemed to search curiously for his eyes at the sides of the mask that was tied neatly with a black lace bow. The other was dressed quite similarly, except his knickerbockers were a nice magnolia that matched his hair and he wore a waistcoat of sky blue. He wore his hair naturally short and took pride in the sheen of his polished and buckled shoes in the candlelight. His mask was made of white porcelain rimmed with thick silver swirls and ornate curves. Blue gems nestled themselves amongst the curls and caught the light in a way that looked almost like a halo at the top of his mask. It wasn't quite clear how he kept such a mask from falling off of his face without a fastening, but he was doing it.

Aziraphale took a small sip from his glass (he was drinking honey spirits) and smiled at his surroundings and the people. Maybe even at nothing in particular. He was just happy to be in the presence of fine people, fine food and Crowley. His eyes creased at the sides and his cheeks glowed. It had been the first time since Paris 1793 that the pair had seen each other.

"It's really rather lovely, isn't it? All these people here, together. Having a wonderful time." The music swelled

"Yesss, well," Crowley mused. "with all that going on out in France, they all need it." The corners of his mouth turned down, but he wasn't frowning, or upset. It was just a Crowley thing.

The pair of them spotted a young woman bashfully approaching Crowley from across the other side of the room amidst the flurry of dress fabric and petticoats. She was wearing a swan mask, made of the same porcelain is Aziraphale's. She had a pretty face, her deep blue eyes peered out of her mask with shy curiosity and her dark hair was the nest for a large swan feather.

"Excuse me for being so bold, Count Crowley, but if you aren't occupied at the moment, I was wondering if you would like to dance?" Crowley turned to Aziraphale ever so slightly. "With...me." She clarified although both men (well, men shaped ethereal and occult beings) knew what she meant. Crowley accepted the invitation. It wouldn't do any harm to do some tempting tonight.

"I suppose I'll see you later then, eh?" He shot a small smirk at Aziraphale before disappearing into the sea of expensive fabrics leaving Aziraphale alone with his drink.

The angel watched with content at the couples that swirled and waltzed and box stepped. It wasn't long before he himself was asked to dance by a young woman. He smiled, asked a butler to kindly hold his drink, adjusted his waistcoat and set off to dance under the twinkling candles.

The night was still young.

#aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #good omens #crowley #aziracrow #fluff #angst #masked ball #aziraphale/crowley #chapter 1

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haggishlyhagging · 17 days

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Money, like writing, seems to have originated in the temples of the ancient world. The word money comes from the Roman Goddess Juno who in one of her forms was called Moneta meaning She Who Gives Warning. Her temple in Rome was the center for the finances of Rome and so her name Moneta became the word money. The same word became also mint because that same temple was the place where coins were minted. According to Barbara Walker silver and gold coins manufactured there were valuable not only by reason of their precious metal but also by the blessing of the Goddess herself which was believed to bring good fortune and healing magic.

Money was indeed a magical invention. Folk tales are full of magic lamps and genies and beanstalks, of magical ways to have our every wish granted. We would all like to be able to snap our fingers or twitch our noses and have our purposes accomplished. And that is almost exactly what happens with money. It can be exchanged for every conceivable kind of real wealth. Magic. Pure magic. So enamored were people of this magical invention that it became over time the primary measure of real wealth in Westem society.

Why then do three quite diverse philosophical or intellectual traditions agree on the idea that money is somehow unclean or something to be despised?

One of those traditions is Christianity. About one third of the parables of Jesus are about money. He is reported to have taught that being rich is a barrier to salvation and to have told the rich young man to sell everything and give his money to the poor. The one time he is depicted as angry is when he turns over the tables of the money changers at the temple. His advice on taxes is to render unto Caesar what is Caesar's, to separate money and worldly concerns from one's religion. Classical Christianity has preached, if not practiced, that money and this world are to be renounced in favor of an other-worldly kingdom of heaven. The love of money, said St. Paul, is the root of all evil.

Classical Marxism also renounces money as responsible for the alienation of human beings from their labor. People no longer work to create or produce, but only to make money. This situation Marx considered to be disastrous. He felt it was labor which was of essential value and that all monetary valuations were to be discarded. Those who seek only money he saw as exploiting those who work.

Finally there is Freud who thought money was anal. He equated money with feces, excrement. It is therefore filthy and messy. Withholding money is a kind of constipation. Money is related to the bowels and is dirty. And indeed, we do refer to money sometimes as "filthy lucre."

Christianity, Marxism and Freudianism all agree on despising money. As a psychologist I have learned to pay careful attention to those things another person protests most vehemently against. And as a woman I have learned to pay close attention to those things which our great patriarchs preach most loudly against. Because, of course, what is loudly despised is often what is covertly desired or feared or worshipped. So if Jesus, Marx and Freud are all in agreement on something, we women had better take a careful look.

Women are socialized to live out the Christian ideals of self-sacrifice and martyrdom and men are socialized to give lip service to them. The same hypocrisy would seem to apply to what is preached about money. Filthy, despicable, and barrier to salvation it may be, but the fact is that in general, men have money and women don't. According to the United Nations Labor Organization, women put in 65% of the world's work and get back only 10% of all income paid. The female half of the world's population owns less than 1% of world property. Women in our Western society may have access to money through their husbands or fathers, but until recently women rarely accumulated or controlled their own large fortunes.

Men may philosophize about the distinction between money, which is "merely" a measure, and "real wealth," the goods and services into which money can be changed. They can say that the pursuit of money leads to an unhappy, hollow existence. They can urge upon women the virtues of simplicity. But for most men the ultimate appeal is to the "bottom line," that is, to money. How much money will something cost? How much financial profit will be gleaned? Mae West cut through this hypocrisy with great clarity when she said "I've been rich and I've been poor, and rich is better."

-Shirley Ann Ranck, Cakes for the Queen of Heaven

#Shirley Ann Ranck #patriarchy #the love of money #female oppression #patriarchal reversal #wealth

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blueiscoool · 1 year

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A Trove of 750 Looted Artifacts Returned to Italy

Some 750 looted archaeological treasures have been seized from the notorious British antiquities trader Robin Symes and returned to Italy after a decades-long fight for their return, the Carabinieri art police said on Wednesday.

The artifacts, which according to the Italian cultural ministry are worth more than €12 million ($12.9 million), will go on display in Rome’s Castel Sant’Angelo museum as part of a collection of stolen art that has found its way home.

The objects “offer a cross-section of the many productions of ancient Italy and the islands,” including “numerous and diversified archaeological contexts (funerary, cultural, residential and public) … concentrated in particular in Etruria and Magna Graecia,” according to a statement from the Ministry of Culture.

Among the recovered items from the Roman and Imperial eras is a bronze tripod table from an aristocratic Etruscan family, two parade headgear for horses, two funerary paintings, male busts in marble, various portions of statues and bronzes, and a wall painting with the depiction of a small temple, likely from a Vesuvian residence, according to the ministry statement.

There are also precious gems set in gold, silver, bronze, as well as bone and amber.

Other pieces include weapons, sarcophagi, funerary urns, ritual objects, furnishings in bronze and marble, mosaic and painted decorations.

The artifacts originate from “clandestine excavations on Italian territory” and were illegally obtained by Symes Ltd, the company owned by Symes, a major trafficker of cultural goods, according to the ministry statement.

“The company, which had always opposed the repeated recovery attempts by the Italian Judicial Authority, (and) subject to bankruptcy proceedings in the United Kingdom, was also sued in Italy, through the Attorney General of the State, for the return of the goods or civil compensation for damages,” Italian Attorney General Lorenzo d’Ascia said during the press conference.

There are also precious gems set in gold, silver, bronze, as well as bone and amber.

Other pieces include weapons, sarcophagi, funerary urns, ritual objects, furnishings in bronze and marble, mosaic and painted decorations.

A further 71 objects, currently in the United States, will be recovered in the next few days, Brigadier General Vincenzo Molinese, commander of the Carabinieri Art Squad, said.

The return of these 750 objects marks another success in Italy’s attempt to recover its stolen treasures. Minister of Culture Gennaro Sangiuliano said at the press conference: “The recovery of illicitly stolen cultural heritage is one of the priorities of my program; protecting it also means preventing our heritage from being plundered by unscrupulous traffickers.”

By Barbie Latza Nadeau.

#A Trove of 750 Looted Artifacts Returned to Italy #British antiquities trader Robin Symes #stolen #looted #antiques #ancient artifacts #archeology #archeolgst #history #history news #ancient history #ancient culture #ancient civilizations #roman history #roman empire #roman artifacts #roman art

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isokoe · 2 months

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SILVER DAWN: Iron Steve’s

ABILITY: Physical Power, the strongest physically of the Ore Steve’s

VALUE: Community, Unity, Loyalty

RELIGION: Iron Steve’s aren’t very religious, at least, not anymore, but the religion they do have is that the world was created by Elemental, who moulded the ground and oceans, the skies and underground, every biome was his. The Ore Steve’s were created as Elemental had grown lonely one day, finding that his little world was boring with just animals and nothing else. He used the ore blocks from the underground and moulded them into the first Ore Steve’s. After creating the Ore Steve’s, he was satisfied with his work, and resided into the core of the earth. It is popularly believed that when Elemental rises from the Earth again, it is what is considered judgement day.

When Praying to Elemental for more religious Iron Steve’s, they go on their knees and lean their head forward onto the ground, they must have an offering of Lily Of the Valley’s, Fresh Apples and/or a Azalea sapling to pray as it is believed this is Elemental’s treasured flower, fruit, and tree. After you’re done, throw the offerings into the fire and bow once more and then leave.

CULTURE: Iron Steve’s have a few very special events in their years. One that was commonly shared between Ore Steve’s is the Ore Steve Festival, which originated when racism between Ore’s were very high, and there were a vast majority of Ore’s in land that had prejudice against the Ore’s who chose to stay underground(Obsidian, Amethyst) and those who resided in the ocean(Prismarine). The Ore Steve Festival is meant to commemorate all Ore Steve’s, the lives lost during this period known as the Ore War, and make sure that this type of thing doesn’t happen anymore by promoting harmony regardless of Ore. However there are still some more mild hidden racism that can be seen in certain Ore Steve’s, particularly the older generation. In the festival, Ore Steve’s from all over, every kingdom, come together and share their culture, food, and so on. It’s probably also the only way you may see certain Ore’s, especially Prismarine.

A more Iron Steve pertained festivity is the New Year Celebrations, Iron Steve’s spend their new years counting down together and spending time with the whole community. The Leader and Apprentice arrange games and activities and everyone takes part. There is also shared meals and everything, this is because of how Iron Steve’s value their community a lot, you’re more likely to see two Iron Steve’s than one. Ever. Or well, in the past really…

another Iron Steve culture event is Independence Day, this is because Iron Steve’s used to be colonised. During the time when Ore Steve’s had high racism, there was also colonisation of certain Ore Steve’s. Many Ore Steve’s planned to colonise the Prismarine, Amethyst, or Obsidian. But the Land Ore’s that were colonised are: Gold’s, Coal’s, Iron’s. Lapis Steve’s colonised Gold Steve’s, Redstone Steve’s colonised Coal Steve’s, and Diamond Steve’s colonised Iron Steve’s. The Iron Steve’s fought for their independence and overthrew the Diamond’s which finally signed a treaty to let them go. Emerald’s were pretty much the only ones who remained neutral(though there was still a racial bias)

Iron Steve’s commemorate their independence from the Diamond’s by hosting their own festival, where they have old games Iron’s used to play, mourning of the lives lost for their independence, and the reminder of history for young Iron’s, always to remember that United as one, they would fight for their freedom together as a family. Or well, community.

One of the events is also related to another war, the Iron Civil War. This was when the Withering had first started, prior to this, Iron Steve’s were already having a split between ideologies and views, but when the withering happened, a lot of crops and so on were hit badly, and both sides had different plans. This caused a HUGE civil war, resulting in many lives being lost until finally the treaty was formed, where the two leaders of each side melted a part of the iron in their body briefly, and mould the magma together into what is now known as the Unity Heirloom, something all leaders have to wear. It isn’t necessarily a festival than it is a day of itself. The leader has a speech, many Iron Steve’s spend the day with each other, baking food or gifting is a strong part of this day.

Iron Steve’s more religious holidays however probably have to be Elemental’s Birthday, which is the equivalent of Christmas in there. For the month you cannot eat meat or fish, you must fast at night, and pray everyday. On the day itself, there are masses or get togethers hosted and Lily of The Valleys are decorated everywhere.

all these Culture festivities and events have however unfortunately been stopped and cannot be properly commemorated because of the Skulk. Everyone’s struggling to survive and put food on their plate.

BACKGROUND: Iron Steve’s were hit pretty badly by the skulk. They’re one of the most nutritious types of Ore’s for skulk, because of how their ability is physicality. After the first wave, a thankfully fast evacuation helped save the lives of many and ensured that they didn’t all go extinct. They’re endangered just as most Ore Steve’s are pretty much. They can’t live in fertile land because they lost a lot of the manpower and firepower they needed, and well… physical strength or speed or anything does not help when you’re against a infectious parasitic highly speedy growing plant which has spores that can cause one of the most devastating diseases seen by Ore Steve’s.

Thus they had to try and farm on infertile land even if it isn’t very successful, and actively scouts have to go out. They have a special outfit for scouts going out with full body set armour to prevent infection more. It’s really dangerous. Livestock is considered important, and any crops grown is good. Currently there has been issues with unpredictable and extreme rain downpour, ranging from heavy to pretty much nothing in an instant. Another factor is how Iron Steve’s are an ageing population, same as every Ore. Their leader has been the leader for generations, he’s already suited to retire to a Elder but he can’t. So his apprentice though relatively young is getting ready to take over. Rationing is getting pretty bad too.

Agsshaha I would say more but… sillies…. GRAHHH, thank you if you made it this far for coming to my Ted talk ramble /pos, hope you enjoyed!!!

#silly #so silly #minecraft #silver dawn #i’m mentally ill #please send help

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fearthefluff · 2 years

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Fantasy Romance Recommendations Pt.1

I'm a big fan of Fantasy Romance books but I've noticed that a lot of recommendations lists have the same books over and over again. Nothing against Sarah J Maas, Jennifer Armentrout and Holly Black, but I have read their books already and I'm looking for new suggestions. And thus, I decided to make my own little list (with help from @housebaylor and @shirewalker). Maybe it will help someone somewhere. XD ***Some of the books listed here are not Romance novels officially but all have romance and have HFN or HEA endings Fantasy Romances The Fallen Empire Trilogy by Grace Draven The Kraelian Empire has ruled with an iron fist for centuries, its grip unyielding until the power of three women, and the men devoted to them, break it.

The Winternight Trilogy by Katherine Arden Vasya Petrovna is a young woman gifted with the Sight which allows her to see spirits who inhabits the world. The arrival of Christianity spells trouble for her and the world of the spirits at large. This story has her rebel against her fate as a woman in medieval Russia, go on a great adventure and meet amazing characters. One of my favourite.

Nettle and Bone by T. Kingfisher A subversive take on Fairytales! After years of seeing her sisters suffer at the hands of an abusive prince, Marra―the shy, convent-raised, third-born daughter―has finally realized that no one is coming to their rescue. No one, except for Marra herself.

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baldwinivmybeloved · 2 months

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̼ ֹ ⠀ ͎꒷ FINAL CHARPER ⠀ ﹙ ❤︎ ﹚⠀୨୧ __ ｡ﾟ✿ Xica X Baldwin IV

Firts, I want to thank everyone for reading this story, I know that perhaps it did not have the best writing, or the best development, I hope that Baldwin's next story is better than this one, I have learned about my mistakes, however I feel proud that I have managed to Many of you like it. I love you for dedicating your time to reading my story. I hope to see you in the following projects. Here find the endings in this post you found the happy ending Below in the titles you will find the other endings Final Canon Alternative ending

Jerusalem had seen darker days, but it had also experienced moments of peace and prosperity. Baldwin and Xica, united by love and responsibility for their kingdom, had enjoyed these times of relative calm to the fullest. Life, although punctuated by the occasional setback, had become peaceful. Xica kept abreast of the state of other lands and, thanks to Balian's administration, Ibelin flourished virtuously.

However, on the kingdom's border, tensions were beginning to rise. The Knights Templar, under the command of Reynald de Chatillon and Guy de Lusignan, were preparing to attack a Saracen caravan, which threatened to break the fragile peace agreement with Saladin.

The throne room was filled with uproar. An assembly of the powers of the country had met, established as the House of Commons. The Templars and Guy's party on one side, the Hospitallers and the Loyalists on the other. King Baldwin, wearing a silver mask, stared at Guy and Tiberias, who stood before him.

—Maybe Reynald attacked a caravan. But what about that? War is inevitable. Peace... unnatural.

—It wasn't a caravan. It was an army heading to Bethlehem to desecrate the birthplace of Our Lord.

—Reynald, with the Templars, I'm sure...

-Lie! Lie!

—...they have broken the king's promise of peace. Saladin will come to this kingdom...

—Tiberias knows more than a Christian should know about Saladin's intentions.

The uproar among the barons increased. Tiberias approached Guy.

-What are you saying?

—That you love the Saracens.

A close moment. Tiberias very close to Guy.

—That I prefer to live with people than kill them is undoubtedly the reason why you are alive.

—That type of Christianity has its uses. I guess.

—We can't have a war with Saladin. We won't win it. And yes, we don't want it.

—Blasfemia, blasfemia.

The room was silent. A messenger entered. He advanced and spoke to the king. Baldwin raised his masked face.

—Saladin has crossed the Jordan. With two hundred thousand men.

—He will go to Kerak first.

The king began to get up.

—Gather the army.

—Your majesty... If you travel, you will die.

Guy, upon hearing this, seemed pleased.

—Gather the army.

Xica approached her husband, worried.

—Baldwin, I can't allow you to go alone. Let me accompany you on the way. I fear for your life.

Baldwin looked at Xica, seeing the love and concern in her eyes.

—Very good, Xica. Accompany me. Your presence will give me strength.

---

**Meanwhile, in Kerak, Balian and his men prepared to defend the fortress from Saladin's troops. Although brave, they were few compared to the great Saracen army.**

Balian looked past Imad towards higher ground, watching the arrival of Saladin's army. A huge line of men, mounted and dismounted, in perfect order, each section with its banner.

—And ours, my lord.

Imad looked in another direction. In the distance, far away, I saw the gleam of steel in the dust. He climbed onto his horse to get a better look.

—Tell my lord Saladin that Jerusalem has arrived.

The army of the Kingdom of Jerusalem advanced. The king rode in his litter next to the Holy Cross, covered in gold and jewels, through the dust. Five hundred knights were marching towards the relief of Kerak, flanked and protected by five thousand spearmen and crossbowmen. The army was a moving picture, tremendously disciplined. Guy was with the army.

Imad looked through the dust. A man broke away from the Muslim line and rode beside them. A small, thin, unarmed figure, in simple clothing. He examines Balian, his wounded men, and then Imad.

—Withdraw your cavalry.

The horns sounded and the Muslims retreated, leaving Balian and his men wounded and breathless in the valley with a perfect view of the events.

The Jerusalem army made an "evolution" and in one movement transformed into a battle line, facing the Muslim army, about a quarter of a mile away. Riding out of the dust... in Balian's view, the king appeared.

Baldwin, a brilliant horseman, was using every ounce of strength he still possessed to not only remain in the saddle but also to appear as if he were still a living man, when in reality, he was essentially already dead. He rode in front of his army and raised the palm of his hand when he arrived before Saladin. Xica was at the king's side, helping him in case he relapsed.

Saladin advanced himself, so that they were very close.

—I pray that you retire unharmed to Damascus.

Saladin advanced, looking closely at the dying king. He knew how much effort this had cost the man.

—Reynaldo de Chatillon will be punished. I swear. Stand down or we'll all die here.

Saladin looked at the Jerusalem army. Then to the king.

—I'll send you to my doctors.

The king lowered his head only for a moment.

—Do we have terms?

—We have terms.

The masked king returned with his army.

Parts of the Arab force were withdrawing. Balian and his surviving men, released to cheers from the battlements, rode toward the castle gates, which opened.

Balian and his men staggered in, cheered by the peasants they had saved. Reynald appeared in the crowd.

—You would have given me more mouths to feed and more shit to throw over the wall. You have a lot to learn about sieges.

Reynald patted him on the arm.

—But that was magnificent.

Balian looked for Sibylla in the crowd, but was unable to approach her. He removed the ring from his chain from the collar of his armor and kissed it. Sibylla nodded.

Reynald knew he was in for this. He drank the last of the wine.

The king painfully got up from his chair with the help of Xica. The trip had left him almost without strength. The king, walking towards Reynald, dragging one leg, took off his turban and let it fall to the ground. He walked towards Reynald and took off his mask. We didn't see the king's destroyed face, but Reynald did.

—I am Jerusalem. Will you give me the kiss of peace, Reynald?

The king extended a ruined hand, with a ring on what was left of one finger. Reynald kissed the hand. The king hit him with a stick.

The king, as a tear fell, closed his eyes.

-What are you looking at?

-A dead man. Reynald de Chatillon, you are arrested and condemned.

The king was laid down in his litter by Xica and the men. A mouthful of medicine was poured into his mouth through the mask. The king gestured to Balian.

—If you continue as you are, I will appoint you Marshal of Jerusalem. What do you think about that?

Before Balian could respond, the king's litter was taken away. Tiberias was at Balian's side.

—When a man says something on the verge of sleep, you can dismiss it. When a king says it, it will happen. Mark yourself.

Xica watched the scene with a heavy heart. Recent events had tested not only Baldwin's strength, but also his love and leadership. Baldwin's health was visibly declining, and the fear of losing him filled her. Her concern for her husband was constant, and she knew that the road ahead would be arduous and full of challenges.

But in the midst of her worry, Xica also felt a renewed determination. Baldwin's promise to make Balian Marshal of Jerusalem was a ray of hope. With Balian at the helm, the kingdom had a chance to survive the dark times ahead.

Xica decided that she would not let fear dominate her. He would accompany Baldwin every step of the way, fighting by his side until the end. He knew that, together, they could face any adversity, because their love and commitment to

the kingdom were stronger than any external threat.

As he looked at Baldwin, masked and weakened, a deep resolve settled in his heart. She would not allow her husband and his kingdom to fall without a fight. The battle for Jerusalem was not over, and with the strength of love and justice, they would continue forward, facing whatever fate had in store for them.

HAPPY FINAL

The return to Jerusalem was more than exhausting for Baldwin. The disease had advanced relentlessly, and the king was worse than ever. He could barely stand and each breath was a monumental effort. Xica did not leave his side, her concern was palpable. The doctors were quick to give a gloomy prognosis: he had little life left.

The room was dark, barely lit by candles. Baldwin lay in his bed, his face hidden behind the silver mask, his trembling hands gripping the sheets. Xica, sitting next to him, held his hand, her eyes filled with tears that refused to fall.

"I can't lose you, Baldwin," Xica whispered, her voice cracking with emotion.

Baldwin, with an effort, turned his head towards her. Although the mask hid his face, Xica could feel the intensity of his gaze.

"My love... my queen..." Baldwin said in a weak voice. We've been through so much. If this is my end, I face it with peace in my heart, because I have you.

—No, Baldwin. It's not your end. We will fight, as we always have. “I will not give up,” Xica stated with determination.

The days passed with anguish. The doctors were doing everything they could, but Baldwin's health continued to deteriorate. The court was in a state of uncertainty, and the tension was palpable.

Xica stood firm, not allowing fear to dominate her. He remembered all the battles they had faced together, all the obstacles they had overcome. She wasn't about to give up now.

One night while caring for Baldwin, a thought arose in her mind: love and hope were powerful forces. With renewed resolve, he began to pray, asking for strength and healing. He also organized a chain of prayers throughout Jerusalem, involving all the kingdom's religions, asking for the king's life.

Against all odds, Baldwin began to show signs of improvement. His fever subsided, and his breathing became more stable. The surprised doctors couldn't fully explain it, but Xica knew it was a miracle, an answer to her prayers and her unbreakable love.

Each day, Baldwin regained a little more strength. Xica read him poetry, reminding him of happy days, and they talked about their dreams for the future. Baldwin, although still weak, found comfort and strength in his wife's voice and the love they shared.

Time passed and the kingdom of Jerusalem changed with it. Guy de Lusignan was dethroned, and Balian, renowned for his bravery and wisdom, married Sibylla. Together, they led with justice and compassion, restoring peace and prosperity to the kingdom.

The young prince, who had been ill, also recovered and took his place at court, prepared to continue his family's legacy.

Arik and Ariella, the children of Baldwin and Xica, grew up strong and wise, ready to assume the throne. Under the tutelage of their parents and Balian, they learned the art of leadership and the importance of justice and mercy.

IN T. THE THRONE ROOM. JERUSALEM. DAY

The throne room was filled with life and expectation. It was the day of Arik and Ariella's coronation. Baldwin, though visibly aged, stood tall, his mask now only a relic of the past, his face marked by years but with an expression of deep pride.

Xica, next to him, looked radiant. They had survived every test that fate had thrown at them, and today was a day of celebration and triumph.

“Today is a historic day,” Baldwin said, his voice echoing in the room. My children, Arik and Ariella, are prepared to lead this kingdom into a future of peace and prosperity.

Arik and Ariella, both dressed in ceremonial attire, approached their parents. Ariella's eyes shone with determination and Arik held his father's gaze reverently.

—Father, mother, we have learned so much from you. “We promise to rule with justice and honor,” Arik said.

"And with love and compassion," Ariella added.

Applause filled the room as Arik and Ariella were crowned the new kings of Jerusalem. Baldwin and Xica, holding hands, looked proudly at their children. They had done their duty and their legacy would live on.

Baldwin and Xica strolled slowly through the palace gardens, enjoying the serenity of the moment.

"We have lived so long, my love," Baldwin said, gently squeezing Xica's hand. I am grateful for every day with you.

—And I with you, Baldwin. We have built something beautiful, something that will last.

Baldwin stopped, looking at Xica tenderly.

—Our love has been our strength. And now, our children will continue what we started.

Xica smiled, her eyes shining with tears of happiness.

—Yes, Baldwin. We have achieved what seemed impossible. And now, we can enjoy the peace we long for.

The two embraced each other, feeling each other's warmth, knowing that, despite all the adversities, their love had prevailed. And as they looked out over the horizon, they knew that the future of Jerusalem was in good hands, thanks to the strength and love they had shared over the years.

The sun was beginning to set, coloring the sky in shades of gold and pink. Baldwin and Xica walked slowly through the palace gardens, surrounded by flowers that seemed to bow toward them in silent reverence. The air was filled with the sweet scent of roses and the distant song of birds created a peaceful symphony.

"I remember the day I met you," Baldwin said, his voice low and full of nostalgia. I never imagined that that young African slave would become the queen of my heart and this kingdom.

Xica smiled, her eyes shining with memories.

—And I never imagined that the sick young king would become the love of my life, the man who would defy death itself for his people and for me.

They stopped by a small pond, watching the goldfish swim in the clear water. Baldwin took Xica's hands in his, his blue eyes, although marked by years, still filled with the same passion of yesteryear.

"We have faced wars, betrayals, and disease," Baldwin continued. We have lost friends and gained allies. But through it all, your love has been my anchor, my guide in the storm.

Xica clenched his hands tightly, his gaze fixed on Baldwin's eyes.

—And you have been my strength, Baldwin. When all seemed lost, you always found a way to keep going. Together we have built something beautiful, something that will last beyond our lives.

Baldwin smiled, a tear rolling down his cheek.

—Our children, Arik and Ariella, will continue our legacy. And I know that they will govern with the same justice and compassion that has guided us.

They looked at the horizon, where the first stars were beginning to shine in the twilight sky. The future unfolded before them, full of hope and promise.

"We have seen so much, lived so much," Xica murmured. And now, we can enjoy the peace we have longed for.

Baldwin nodded, his heart full of gratitude.

-Yes my love. We have achieved what seemed impossible. And now, we can rest knowing that our kingdom is in good hands.

They embraced each other, their hearts beating in unison, as the world around them was filled with deep peace. They had faced every trial that fate had thrown at them, and together, they had prevailed.

A FEW YEARS LATER IN T. THRONE ROOM. JERUSALEM. DAY

The throne room was filled with dignitaries and citizens, all gathered to celebrate a historic moment. Arik and Ariella, now kings, sat on their thrones, proudly observing their parents, who sat in ceremonial chairs beside them.

Baldwin, although visibly weaker, smiled with satisfaction. Xica, at his side, radiated serenity and deep happiness. His sons had led the kingdom to new heights of prosperity and peace.

“Today is a day of celebration,” Arik declared, his voice echoing through the room. A day to honor our parents, who have taught us the true meaning of leadership and love.

Ariella stood up, her gaze fixed on Baldwin and Xica.

—Father, mother, this kingdom is a testament to your bravery and sacrifice. Thanks to you, Jerusalem is strong and its children will follow your example.

Applause filled the room as Baldwin and Xica stood, greeting the crowd humbly. The two held hands, feeling the weight of the years and shared experiences.

Later, Baldwin and Xica met again in the gardens, enjoying the peaceful sunset. The flowers, trees and the gentle murmur of the water created an atmosphere of peace and contemplation.

"We've come a long way, my love," Baldwin said, his voice soft and heavy with emotion. And now, we can see the fruit of our efforts.

Xica nodded, her eyes filled with tears of happiness.

—Yes, Baldwin. We have built a legacy that will last. And most importantly, we have found the love and peace we always dreamed of.

They sat on a stone bench, watching the sun set behind the mountains. Golden light bathed the landscape, and in that moment, everything seemed perfect.

"I will always love you, Baldwin," Xica whispered.

Baldwin took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly.

—And I will always love you, Xica. Until the last breath and beyond.

They hugged each other, their hearts beating in unison, knowing that they had fulfilled their destiny. Together, they had faced adversity, found true love, and left a legacy of hope and justice.

And as the sun faded over the horizon, Baldwin and Xica knew that, no matter what, they would always be together, united by a love that neither time nor death could separate.

Now elderly, they walked slowly along the main path of the garden. Their steps were slower, but their faces were illuminated by a smile of serenity and lasting love. Age had left its mark on them, with gray hair and life lines marked on their faces, but the light in their eyes remained the same as always.

Xica stopped next to a rose bush and tenderly touched a flower. The skin of his hands, although wrinkled, still showed an intrinsic elegance. Baldwin stayed by her side, looking at his wife with admiration and love.

“I remember when we planted these rose bushes,” said Xica, her voice soft and full of nostalgia. They were so small, and now they are so great.

Baldwin nodded, resting his hand on Xica's shoulder.

"Just like us," he replied. We have grown together, strengthening and flourishing over time.

They sat on the stone bench where they used to rest, enjoying the sunset that painted the sky with shades of orange and purple. Xica leaned against the back of the bench, while Baldwin settled next to her, putting his arm around her.

—Do you remember the day we met? Baldwin asked, his eyes fixed on the horizon.

Xica smiled, her eyes full of sweetness.

-How to forget it. I never imagined that that meeting would be the beginning of such a wonderful life. You have been my anchor and my guide, Baldwin.

Baldwin looked at her tenderly, his fingers intertwined with Xica's.

—And you have been my light in the darkness, Xica. In every challenge and every triumph, your love has been my strength.

They stayed silent, enjoying the quiet moment. The sun was slowly setting, and the sky was filled with bright stars. The garden, now a place of peace and reflection, seemed a reflection of the life they had built together.

Later, in the palace hall, Baldwin and Xica were surrounded by their children, Arik and Ariella, as well as their grandchildren. The family gathered to share a family dinner, celebrating not only life, but also the legacy that continued.

Arik, now a mature and wise man, raised his glass in a toast.

—For our parents, who have guided with wisdom and love. Thanks to them, our kingdom has prospered and found peace.

Ariella, with an affectionate look at her parents, added:

—His love and sacrifice have been the basis of everything we are. We are eternally grateful.

Baldwin and Xica looked at each other, their hearts full of pride and love. Their children and grandchildren were a testament to their life together, and the kingdom was in good hands.

After dinner, Baldwin and Xica went to the balcony of their room, where they sat down again on the stone bench. The night sky was dotted with stars, and the full moon illuminated the landscape with a soft, magical light.

-It is not beautiful? —said Xica, looking at the starry sky—. It's like the universe is celebrating with us.

Baldwin smiled, his eyes shining with a serene light.

—Yes, it's beautiful. But the most beautiful thing of all is the life we have shared, the love we have built and the legacy we have left.

Xica leaned down and kissed Baldwin on the cheek, their love unchanging despite the passage of time.

—You will always be my greatest treasure, Baldwin. And I will always be by your side, in every dawn and every dusk.

Baldwin hugged her, their hearts beating in perfect sync. They looked up at the night sky together, knowing that their love had transcended time and that, despite the difficulties, they had found true happiness.

“Together, we have lived a full life,” Baldwin said, his voice thick with emotion. And in every memory, in every shared moment, we find eternity.

They stood in silence, enjoying the peace and quiet of the night, knowing that, in the end, their love had been the greatest victory of all.

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