#widowedqueen

[lighthandcd]

@widowedqueen; for luken to pay logan a nightly visit

as much as luken knew about the secret passageways around the castle, some far too unstable to be safe, some extremely useful to move around the castle unseen; including the ones to the royal's bedchambers — the very same that could have been used by an intruder to murder king morris, the very same that had been thoroughly investigated upon discovery of the heinous act — it would have been unwise to take them now. so luken found himself at the doors to the queen's room, flanked by guards at each side. he acknowledged them before resting his clenched fist against the wood, debating with himself at his current course of action.

it was hardly unusual of him to be here, though usually there tend to be more than one person behind the door. morris, logan and him, the three of them would occasionally imbibe in spirits behind close doors where they could be friends first and foremost, king, queen and hand, second; discussing anything under the night sky, from inconsequential things like the latest city gossip to things that could not be said in council company. he had a bottle of wine in one hand, missives in his pockets — though he was certain one would be forgotten in favour of the other.

two weeks was a long enough wait. the queen surely needed some comfort and distraction at this time, someone to vent to, someone to cry on. it wasn't all selfless on the hawitt lord's part. no, luken knew it was a betrayal of sorts against his recently deceased friend and king but he'd been harbouring thoughts of both the carnal and romantic nature about the dead monarch's wife behind his — both their — back(s) for years now. something that could never be acted upon. occasionally, he felt a stab of jealousy in his heart when he had to depart this very room knowing what was about to transpire between the two royals.

he shook his head then, dispelling all such thoughts from his mind before he knocked once. twice. then twice again. finishing it off with another a second later. his special knock that served to announce his presence without words.

[xofswordandcrownsx]

@widowedqueen

Heartache was something that Nadim was no stranger to. Many years ago, before he had even been Queen and before he had popped out children for his King, he had been Nadim Petkett and he had been promised to a man that wasn't Avi... but his elder brother. And though he had detested the idea of an arranged marriage, Nadim had grown to love his first betrothed so when he died in a tragic mining accident... It had hurt. Quite a lot.

So the Queen knew exactly how his friend was feeling - or at least, he knew a modicum of what he was feeling. He wasn't sure how he would've felt if he had been with the man for over thirty years and he had wound up meeting a tragic end with no answers and a dark cloud looming over head, but he did know how it felt to lose someone you love.

That was why, with a couple goblets of Nokian wine, the Queen of Nok made his way over towards the dowager Queen and offered the spare to them. "Come, my old friend... Let us walk. I am sure you can use a break from playing diligent host," he said, giving the other a kind smile as his now free hand moved to rest on the other queen's back, rubbing the spot soothingly.

[thepritheeprinciple]

starter for the dowager queen ♟ @widowedqueen location: the queens quarters time: pre-funeral 🤭 triggers(?): incest

Bruno had woken up with a yawn. An exciting night behind and perhaps an exciting morning yet as his princely shaft lifted his silk sheets into a tent. It twitches and places a spot of precum onto them as Bruno stretches his limber frames across his bed. As he opens his eyes, Bruno sees his mother, Logan, standing by the door of his chambers. By reaction, his cock twitches once again.

"Morning mother." He yawns, rubbing at his eyes, a bit groggy still. "Have I forgotten the date of an event again?" He asks, his sleepy tone of voice does its best to sound clear despite Bruno's sleepy demeanor. "I can use your help getting dress... Although.." The young prince lays himself against the headboard of the bed, a leg moves itself to the side, making the tent between Bruno's legs more prominent. "Today's activities don't have to require clothes, of course."

[aladoniahq]

@widowedqueen

[lighthandcd]

"anything for my queen." he took his glass with thanks, but imbibed in nothing more than a couple of sips. letting himself savour the wine. it was a special blend with winter grapes and cherries, sweeter than most but still had a nice burn down the throat, and he intended to enjoy it. with logan of course.

again, his eyes wandered as a man's was bound to. one shouldn't fault him for admiring all of his queen. his strength, his resolve, his humour... and his hefty assets. though... morris was going curse him from beyond the grave of that he was sure. "of course. we can talk about the court gossip? you know that never seems to end." the hand's hand once again back in his queen's. squeezing once in comfort before he continued, a grin on his face, "i heard lord florian got himself in some trouble with his wife after being caught at the brothels. the nerve of her to act so scandalised when she'd been sleeping her way through the courts."

even in mourning logan was no slouch. his clothes were still just as tight, dripping in opulence, and setting trends. his late husband wouldn't have wanted him to become a slouch in his absence. just that thought alone was almost enough to make his lower lip quiver. "you've always been so sweet." logan reached for nearby glasses, uncorking the wine, and poured them both a glass. he wasted no time in bringing the drink to his lips where he took a deep swig. the wine settled in his stomach, granting logan a moment of comfort. combined with luken's presence it was almost enough to make him feel normal again. "so I've heard. nobody knows how it was done, or how the assailant got past the guards." he sets his glass down and folds his arms beneath his chest, bunching his muscular tits together as he hummed in thought. "did you come here tonight to speculate or keep me company? I'd rather not talk about it. I spend all day weighted down by the murder. for once I just want to pretend like it hasn't happened. So please? For me?" Logan pouts, offering a hand for the advisor to take.

[lighthandcd]

the hand followed logan deeper into the room. graciously he accepted the seat pulled out for him, placing the wine bottle on the table and took the offered hand in his. luken placed his other hand over his queen's, squeezing it back.

he hummed, nodding when logan bemoaned; lending him his listening ear once more. "i brought wine." he smiled, a little cheekily. it was easy to fall back into old dynamics. he leaned forward. "comme au bon vieux temps?"

and just like the good old times, he would give his advice. hand of the king. it was understandable how everyone around his queen acted... especially since they could all see how the queen, herself did. his thumb caressed the smooth skin, bumping over ridges and knuckles. "i'm sorry. but you know they're just playing off what you're feeling, logan." luken looked into logan's eyes, "they see you jittery, understandably so. and your ceremonial, traditional widow's garb. they react in kind." customs dictate how long a widow ought display that they were in mourning. and all knew of the love the king and queen had for each other, even if it had started as a marriage arranged. the hand sighed a little, "i'm sorry we hadn't had any real leads, your highness."

Without Morris the room felt empty. He filled the air with boisterous laughter and constant conversation. Logan loved being the center of attention but happily relinquished the role to her late husband. He knew how to make people around him joyful, making even the most downtrodden souls smile. Which is why it was still so shocking that he had been murdered in cold blood. Logan couldn't think of anybody who despised his husband that much. Thorough investigations had turned up nothing, leaving Logan disparaged and afraid. What if the culprit was still among them? What if he was next? What if one of his sons was now the target of the assassin? The thought made him blanche.

Luken brought him back to reality, rooting him into place before his thoughts caused him to drift away. It was easy for Logan to spiral, jumping at every sound and suspecting ordinary shadows. But with Luken standing before him he felt better. He was a familiar face, and a welcome one at that. He wouldn't pester Logan or over sympathize over his plight. "You know I appreciate you." Pushing into the room the Queen pulls out a chair near a small table for Luken to sit. He joins the man, extending a hand for the other to take. He squeezes the hand, finding comfort in his touch. "You have no idea how depressing it is to walk around and see nothing but frowning faces. I understand their pity, but sometimes I wish they would all pretend that it was just another day." Logan laments, confiding in Luken as he had done countless nights before.

[lighthandcd]

he didn't know what he was expecting. things had irrevocably changed, and he couldn't just waltz into this room like nothing had happened. logan's face came into view as the door opened. he hadn't been here since... since that fateful night and the occasional periods of certain days following the investigation. all the contingencies, all the plans in place couldn't have fully prepared him, or any of them, for what occurred. who was to blame? the master of spies: for not foreseeing this course of action of subterfuge, the guards: for not protecting the ones they swore to protect, the king's closest confidant and advisor: for not being there in his time of need? all of them at once?

the guilt kept him awake some nights and maybe that was why he here. for absolution. for a heart-to-heart. for reminiscing.

his eyes cast down slightly, as always when looking at logan — because their height — but this time, they wandered. the red robe giving him a glimpse of skin. a tease of round muscle. his heart heart lurched for the briefest of moments. forbidden flesh and thoughts so close. he could just reach out... and lose his hand in the process. and more importantly his dignity.

once allowed inside, luken followed, both hands now clasped around the wine, head bowed in apology. "i apologise. i wanted... i wanted to give you the space, my queen." it wasn't like they hadn't talked outside these walls, they had to, in court, around the castle. it wasn't like he hadn't comforted his friend or vowed to do everything in his power to bring the culprit to justice. but in here, things were different, it felt different. luken looked up then, around them, sighing as he explained, "this room, it just... felt sacred in a way and i didn't want to disturb that."

Logan hadn't slept through the night since discovering his husband. He remembered the night vividly, filling the air with screams that sent the guard piling into the room. Logan had lost all color in his face then, staring at the body of his murdered husband. While the guard picked up his body Logan began to sob. He lamented the years of love he had lost in the blink of an eye. Logan had initially despised the thought of an arranged marriage. Like his other brothers he was a chess piece in a political game, maneuvered by his parents to secure political alliances. Morris had been his absolute last choice, but in time Logan had learned to love him. Five sons later and they had built a loving marriage, securely built upon their kingdom and their respect for each other. All of that had been taken away in the blink of an eye. Logan was unused to an empty bed, finding that he still turned over in the hopes that Morris would be there. In his loneliness he had came to rely upon Luken, one of his most trusted confidantes. Being his late husband's closest advisor, Luken and Logan were very familiar with one another. It wasn't uncommon for the Hand to sit with him at night, gossiping about court affairs and enjoying wine. Being with the other reminded him of Morris, adding another layer of comfort to his presence. Logan had retired for the evening, taking a warm bath before tending to missives he had nearly forgotten. His ears perked up. Luken. He had recognized the knock immediately, gathering a robe so he could answer the door. Logan smiled politely as the familiar face of Luken came into view. Around his muscular figure he wore a red robe that was open enough to allow the mind to wander. Five sons had done his body good, making his muscles round but firm. "I wasn't expecting you tonight." He steps aside for the Hand to join him inside of his chambers before shutting the door behind him. "Is something amiss? It's been weeks since you've visited last."