ASH RECLAIMED

&  the  love  of  my  life.

words  darius  had  envisioned  many  times  before,  then  brushed  aside,  because  somewhere…  somehow  a  quiet  whisper  reminded  him  that  ryker,  in  his  youth  as  a  prince,  could  fare  much  better  than  him.  some  days  darius  knew  better  than  that;  some  days  the  shadows  gripped  him  tight  &  let  no  other  thought  through  &  with  the  pressure  of  the  upcoming  coronation,  those  days  had  multiplied,  slowly  chipping  away  at  the  future  king  of  vissai  in  secret.  years  —  they’d  been  seeing  each  other  for  years,  sharing  moments  darius  couldn’t  imagine  with  anybody  else…  ever,  nor  did  he  want  to.  but  hearing  them  now,  spoken  so  naturally,  like  breathing—

it  struck  something  deep.  something  raw.

he’d  known  a  long  time  ago  that  he  would  either  die  with  the  young  varlinnis  prince  by  his  side  or  die  in  vain.  but  to  think,  even  for  a  heartbeat,  that  he  might  see  that  wish  come  true…  unthinkable.  the  fear  of  losing  that  hope  again  wrapped  around  his  heart  &  squeezed  tight,  hard  enough  to  hurt.  perhaps  that  was  why  he’d  been  so  hesitant  to  dream.  even  without  kingdom  politics  between  them,  he’d  always  worried  another  kingdom  would  come  between  them.  someone  younger,  someone  bolder,  someone  offering  ryker  a  future  darius  thought  he  could  never  give.

he  couldn’t  bear  the  thought  of  ryker’s  light  belonging  to  someone  else.  maybe…  maybe  he  would  never  have  to.  becoming  king  was  a  blessing  in  more  ways  than  one. "he  does."  darius  had  prayed  for  this  moment,  watched  years  pass  &  his  hair  ash  at  the  edges,  feared  he’d  die  an  uncrowned  prince  —  a  lifetime  of  preparation  swallowed  by  waiting.  "though  i  much  prefer  you  working  me  over  than  my  advisors."  the  innuendo  curled  off  his  tongue  easily,  softened  with  a  low  chuckle  that  warmed  the  space  between  them.

"are  you  implying  i'd  sit  atop  the  mountain  watching  the  stars  instead  of  sleeping?  surely  not,  because  i'd  never."  he  did  manage  a  few  hours  here  &  there,  tucked  away  between  fittings,  preparations  &  the  endless  duties  thrust  upon  him.  but  in  ryker's  presence,  all  the  tension  bled  from  him  —  he  felt  steadier,  fused  back  into  himself,  as  if  the  pieces  he’d  been  losing  had  always  belonged  in  the  younger  prince’s  hands.  they’d  grown  used  to  being  separated,  yes,  but  never  willingly.  never  without  aching  for  the  next  moment  they  could  steal.

"i  know."  though  the  knowledge  didn’t  change  his  instinctive  self-doubt.  ryker  could’ve  left  him  countless  times  —  chosen  someone  he  didn’t  have  to  hide  for,  someone  who  could  offer  constancy  without  distance,  someone  whose  embrace  wasn’t  weeks  or  months  apart.  yet  darius  knew  he  could  make  ryker  happy.  truly  happy.  he’d  already  given  him  everything  &  king  or  not,  that  would  never  change.  darius’  love  was  carved  bone-deep.

every  moment  apart  was  torture.  he  didn’t  want  that  anymore.  he  was  exhausted  from  yearning,  from  nights  spent  staring  at  the  cold  expanse  beside  him,  from  intimacy  restricted  to  stolen  moments  between  duty  &  inevitable  departure.

"thank  you,  ry.  i  suppose  somewhere  along  the  way  i  forgot  this  is  what  i’ve  always  hoped  for."  &  the  gods  had  been  merciful  —  he  didn’t  need  to  lose  his  father  to  become  king.  maybe  the  heavens  had  looked  upon  them  &  deemed  them  worthy.

light  chuckle  sounded,  "if  you  call  me  queen,  i'll  be  expecting  my  mother  around  the  corner."  darius  much  preferred  being  ryker’s  princess.  &  looking  at  him  now  —  sprawled  beautifully  across  the  bed,  bare  skin  catching  the  dim  light  —  something  softened  at  the  very  core  of  him.  a  quiet  awe  settled  over  his  features,  affection  rich  &  warm.  his  heart  stumbled  in  his  chest,  unsteady  with  want.  if  he  could  wake  to  this  sight  every  morning,  fall  asleep  to  it  every  night,  he  would  die  the  happiest  man  alive.

"you're  beautiful."  the  words  barely  made  it  past  his  lips,  breath  warm  &  reverent.  instead  of  answering  ryker’s  teasing  directly,  darius  moved  —  slow,  deliberate,  hungry.  he  slid  closer,  fingertips  ghosting  along  the  sorcerer’s  sides,  feeling  the  way  ryker’s  muscles  tightened  beneath  his  touch.  his  hands  drifted  up  over  warm  skin,  over  the  curve  of  ribs  &  the  smooth  plane  of  his  torso,  then  down  to  cup  his  hips  with  familiar  affection  &  unmistakable  desire.

he  leaned  in,  kissing  him  —  a  slow,  coaxing  drag  of  lips  that  promised  more.  then  his  hands  rose  across  ryker’s  chest,  nails  teasing  at  his  nipples  before  gliding  to  his  jaw.  a  kiss  to  ryker’s  neck,  another  to  his  chest,  this  time  lingering,  mouth  warm  &  open,  breath  shivering  over  skin.  sleep  could  wait.  everything  could  wait.

their  lips  met  again,  deeper  &  darius  crawled  atop  him  with  practiced  ease,  settling  against  the  younger  man’s  body  like  he  belonged  there  —  because  he  did.  kisses  trailed  along  ryker’s  jaw,  down  the  taut  line  of  his  throat,  soft  love  bites  blooming  faintly  beneath  his  mouth.  downward  still,  to  the  place  where  ryker’s  arms  parted.  eager  —  almost  too  eager  —  darius  inhaled,  pressing  his  face  into  ryker’s  pit,  a  quiet,  needy  sound  humming  through  him.

his  lips  parted  again  for  more  kisses  —  wetter  now  &  a  little  lazy,  the  kind  born  of  a  satisfied  haze  &  a  heat  curling  low  in  his  belly.

"yes. king darius. my king darius. rolls off the tongue quite well don't you think?" he'd never hear the end of it from his father if ryker so much as uttered that possessive article in front of him. but well eagan wasn't here in their private moments now was he? yet the youngest varlinnis prince would be a fool if he didn't think that his father knew or at the very least have an inkling of what had developed between the two royals over the years. they were discrete (mostly, barring certain acts of 'public' indecency) but heart on his sleeve, ryker's feelings would have been no secret to any that witnessed him.

youth gave the feinhalnaar grand ideas and big dreams and at the mention of darius' mother, a mischievous grin spread over his face. "i could easily make you one... a mother that is." with the amount he'd fucked and emptied himself into the other... magic was the only thing stopping his seed from taking. something that could be easily rectified.

"as are you, my love." like a masterpiece sculpted by the finest artist. one whose hands began to roam over ryker's exposed body. darius' movement and the kiss subsequently planted on him was slow, sensual. deliberate. a promise for more. he returned it with the same energy, content with letting darius take the lead. ryker had yet to raise the question if the other needed a distraction to help him sleep but as it turned out darius would happily welcome one, even being the one to initiate. seemed like the stress really needed to be fucked out of him. and the prince was all too happy to oblige.

a deep rumble rolled from his chest as he breathed out and darius kissed him on his pectoral before returning home to his lips once more. weight shifted and soon ryker had the man almost twice his years on him. a moan escaped him as he felt himself stirring. letting himself be marked with bites as darius trailed down... and buried himself right into his pit. sharp breath of inhale mirrored his love's own. pupils widening in bubbling arousal.

of  course  he'd  let  his  mind  wander.  in  fact,  he'd  done  so  many  times  before.  wondering  if  his  status  as  king  would  allow  him  to  choose  his  partner  for  himself.  would  it  be  considered  wrong  if  he  did?  who  was  to  judge  what  was  good  for  the  kingdom  &  what  wasn’t,  right?  if  he  felt  binding  the  varlinnis  kingdom  to  his  own,  then  surely  the  kingdom  would  support  his  claim  that  the  connection  was  profitable  for  both  sides,  would  it  not?  would  he  be  called  out  on  his  lies?

would  it  be  obvious  he  chose  who  he  chose  because  of  his  heart?

only  few  knew  how  darius  felt  about  ryker,  but  the  risk  would  forever  remain.  would  he  have  to  make  himself  unhappy  just  to  avoid  suspicion?  truth  be  told,  he’d  never  even  asked  his  father  what  he  thought  of  bringing  two  of  the  most  powerful  kingdoms  together.  too  afraid  of  the  answer  &  having  to  deal  with  the  truth,  darius  had  chosen  to  live  life  as  it  had  been  —  in  the  shadows.

he’d  never  dared  dream  further.  always  worried  about  finding  himself  unable  to  return  to  reality.  but  now...  it  was  feasible.  not  right  now,  not  so  shortly  after  his  coronation,  but  maybe  their  future  was  written  in  the  stars  after  all.  he  wondered  if  ryker  felt  the  same  —  if  he  even  wanted  to  spend  his  life  with  a  king,  away  from  his  home  &  his  brothers.  would  darius,  if  their  roles  were  reversed?

he  would’ve  dropped  his  title  &  run  with  ryker  if  he  so  much  as  asked  just  once.  so...  he  knew  his  answer.  but  he  didn’t  dare  dream  of  ryker’s.  the  young  varlinnis  prince  would  have  to  decide  for  himself  if  they  were  to  hold  onto  their  love  past  the  life  darius  had  led  up  until  now.

“did  i?  surely,  you're  mistaking  me  for  someone  else.”  darius'  eyes  met  ryker’s  &  ...  well,  he  could  get  lost  in  them  forever  if  offered  the  chance.  they  were  so  bright  &  beautiful,  so  vast  &  endless  he  could  never  get  enough.  he  wanted  to  see  what  they  saw.  he  wanted  to  see  himself  the  way  ryker  saw  him.  better.  because  darius  felt  like  a  lot  of  things  —  a  warrior,  a  son,  a  servant  of  his  people  —  but  a  king?  was  he  ready?

it  was  so  difficult  to  filter  what  about  his  fears  was  justified  &  what  was  just...  panic.  he  was  terrified.  so  much  responsibility  suddenly  resting  on  his  shoulders  &  only  his.  other  kingdoms  had  fallen  under  weak  leaders.  he  didn’t  want  vissai  to  follow  the  same  fate.  "sometimes  i  wonder  who  you  see  when  you  look  at  me,"  he  rumbled  quietly,  truly  curious  —  &  partially...  not  jealous,  but...  yearning.  yearning  to  see  the  same.

“you  did.  and  you  were  right,  as  you  so  often  are.”  darius  hummed  fondly,  fingers  squeezing  the  young  prince's  hand  back  before  lips  pressed  against  it.  not  quite  a  kiss,  but  something  similar.  affection,  presented  on  a  darius-shaped  plate.  he  was  glad  ryker  had  been  right.  because  while  part  of  him  was  grateful  for  the  chance  to  fulfill  his  life’s  duty  before  he  died,  he’d  never  wanted  his  father  to  die.  not  for  his  crown.  age,  yes.  he  knew  they  would  all  die  eventually.  that  was  okay.  fate  would  not  be  tricked  by  titles  or  status.  death  was  ruthless  &  relentless.

the  joke  landed  —  light,  almost  offhand  —  but  darius  didn’t  laugh.  he  only  looked  at  ryker  for  a  moment,  like  he  was  trying  to  decide  whether  to  answer  as  a  man  or  as  a  prince.  the  weight  of  the  crown  hadn’t  touched  his  brow  yet,  but  he  already  felt  the  press  of  it  in  his  bones.  in  the  stretch  of  silence  that  followed,  he  exhaled  slowly,  the  tension  in  his  jaw  easing  just  enough  to  speak.  "i’ll  always  be  your  princess,"  he  murmured,  lips  curving,  though  the  smile  didn’t  quite  reach  his  eyes  —  not  yet.  "even  if  they  crown  me  king,  you’ll  still  get  your  way.  you  always  do." he  turned  his  head  slightly  toward  the  hand  on  his  shoulder,  leaning  in  just  enough  to  show  he  wasn’t  brushing  ryker  off.  "if  you  asked  me  to  renounce  the  throne..."  a  pause.  his  gaze  flicked  up  to  meet  ryker’s.  steady.  quiet. “anything,  for  your  love.”  anything  &  everything  for  the  varlinnis  prince.  no  price  was  too  high  —  but  darius  was  sure  ryker  already  knew  that.

if  he  was  truly  bothered  by  darius’  title  &  legacy,  if  darius  was  ever  asked  to  choose  between  the  crown  &  happiness...  raised  to  wear  the  crown,  but  yearning  to  find  happiness,  he  would  sacrifice  one  for  the  other. but  it  would  hollow  him  out.  becoming  king  was  in  his  blood  &  soul.  "but  don’t  ask."  a  breath,  softer  now.  "please." not  unless...  not  unless  he  really  meant  it.  he  couldn’t  bear  the  thought  of  leaving  his  kingdom  behind.

and ryker? well all he could be in this moment was the wind under the future king, like a gust of zephyr under seraphina’s beating wings, both keeping darius afloat. and perhaps after everything, with darius' father pulling through and both of them being here in this point in their lives; the gods were watching them from their heavens after all. but divine protection or not, he would always be there for darius, in whatever endeavours or tribulations he might face.

"i wouldn't. i won't." why would he? not when he wanted darius to be king. and knew how good he would be at it. ryker himself didn't particular care about the throne or marrying into one. but just to darius. that would be a boon for the both of them. he was under no illusion that he'd been born into privilege, though his grandfather did put in the work — it wasn't like it was just old power gifted to them, they had to fight for it — and that he could afford to have that sentiment when others would do anything just to have a morsel of power and influence he had as a prince. "have you not been playing attention to what i've been saying? like i said, you deserve it." he frowned, in disbelief that darius didn't have more confidence in himself. the other deserved to be enthroned; ryker knew he would be a just and kind ruler. but that expression didn't last. "you're meant to be king. or queen." the young prince's features softened and he smirked, teasing again.

when  news  of  his  father  reached  the  kingdom,  the  realm  was  in  uproar.  their  king  had  been  beloved  by  the  masses  &  vissai  was  a  kingdom  built  on  pride  &  loyalty.  to  hear  that  king  alaric  had  been  injured—gravely  so—beyond  vissai’s  borders  was  unbearable  for  most.  for  him,  too,  of  course.  truth  be  told,  he  had  always  wondered,  even  feared,  that  his  father  was  immortal,  that  he  himself  would  die  a  crown  prince.  at  times,  he  had  entertained  the  thought  of  what  it  would  be  like  to  take  the  throne  when  the  time  came,  but  he  had  never  truly  wanted  his  father  to  pass.  not  once.  strict  &  controlling  as  he  had  been,  darius  knew  alaric  had  only  ever  wanted  the  best  for  him.

&  for  vissai,  of  course.

mostly  vissai.

but  didn’t  they  all?  wasn’t  that  their  purpose?  if  the  royal  family  placed  their  own  desires  &  dreams  above  the  people  they  swore  to  protect,  then…  could  the  kingdom  even  thrive?  he  didn’t  know  the  answer,  nor  did  he  wish  to.  he,  like  many  others,  had  a  selfish  branch  within  him,  too.  the  dream  of  marrying  for  love  &  not  for  duty  burned  brighter  than  anything.  but  the  time  to  entertain  such  thoughts  had  yet  to  come,  &  it  certainly  wasn’t  now.

his  father  had  recovered  for  the  most  part,  though  a  limp  now  marred  what  had  once  been  a  proud  stride.  yet,  he  had  chosen  to  step  down  regardless  &  while  that  had  been  darius’  dream…  the  weight  of  responsibility  terrified  him.  ryker  had  been  with  him  throughout  his  father’s  recovery,  though  darius  had  been  too  preoccupied  with  his  father's  illness  to  share  his  own  worries.  back  then,  he  had  never  truly  believed  his  father  would  relinquish  the  throne.

darius  knew  he  didn’t  deserve  the  youngest  varlinnis  prince—the  beautiful,  bright  soul  who  had  ridden  across  lands  just  to  hold  him  through  his  darkest  nights…  asking  for  nothing  in  return.  nothing  but  him  &  that,  ryker  had  owned  for  as  long  as  he  could  remember.  his  heart  had  not  beaten  for  another  in  a  long,  long  time.  nor  would  he  ever  wish  it  to.  seeing  him  here  again,  in  the  chambers  assigned  to  him  personally  due  to  his  many  visits  to  vissai,  darius  felt  an  unfamiliar  thing  settle  within  him.

contentment.

perhaps,  somehow,  everything  was  falling  into  place.  though  he  had  yet  to  see  the  full  picture.

that  smile.

oh,  that  smile.

it  alone  was  enough  to  quiet  the  storm  in  his  chest.  his  heart  slowing  to  a  steady,  even  dudun  dudun  dudun  in  an  instant.  “i  know,  i'm  sorry, my love.”  forehead  pressed  against  ryker’s,  eyes  closed  as  he  took  in  the  deepest  breath,  just…  breathing  him  in,  sinking  into  the  warmth  &  comfort  that  was  him.  how  he  had  come  to  be  loved  by  a  man  of  such  caliber,  darius  didn’t  know.  he  wasn’t  about  to  question  it,  either.  the  fear  that  one  day  ryker  might  realize  his  mistake  was  far  too  great.  "forgive  me  for  keeping  you  up.  you  must  be  exhausted  after  the  journey.”  his  eyes  peeked  open,  weighing  his  options  for  a  moment.

deep  breath.

“oh,  splendidly.  i’ve  only  thought  about  running  for  the  hills  twice  today.”  he  exhaled  slowly,  a  half-hearted  chuckle  escaping  before  his  voice  softened.  “truthfully…  i  don’t  know,  ry.  i  keep  telling  myself  i’ll  be  ready  when  the  moment  comes,  but  what  if  i’m  not?  i...  never  thought  i’d  actually  get  here.”  he  had  spent  his  entire  life  preparing  for  this  moment—countless  hours,  days,  weeks  &  years  devoted  to  making  himself  ready.  &  yet,  he  felt  like  a  child,  too  small  to  bear  the  weight  of  a  crown.

“father  is  doing  much  better.  the  healer  says  he  will  be  all  right.  the  limp  will  stay,  but  it  won’t  shorten  his  lifespan.  means  he  may  still  be  immortal  after  all.  we’ll  have  to  keep  watching.”  darius  huffed  out  a  quiet  laugh,  shifting  just  a  little  closer.  a  quick,  chaste  press  of  lips  against  lips  before  he  tucked  himself  into  the  space  beneath  ryker’s  chin,  nestling  against  his  chest.  "thank  you,  ry.”  for  everything.  the  words  were  whispered  against  warm  skin,  one  arm  curled  between  them  while  the  other  wound  around  ryker’s  waist,  his  tunic  strained  where  darius  slung  a  leg  over  his  own.  “the  coronation...  it’s  all  i  can  think  about,  ry.  no  matter  what  i  do,  it  lingers—like  a  shadow  at  my  heels.  i  close  my  eyes  &  it’s  there.  i  breathe  &  it’s  there.  gods,  i’d  give  anything  for  a  moment  of  peace  from  it  all.”

selfishly, darius becoming king was good for him. for them. the hope of being his, completely, and darius, his too in turn, never left him, but never fully entertained either. except in flights of fancy, delusions of grandeur. (though that little voice that held hope against hope would say it wasn't all that impossible.) the voice of reason however... even if darius was to ask for his hand in marriage, there was no guarantee his father, eagan, would agree. but the patriarch of house feinhalnaar would be a fool to do so: it would be an easy way to secure a political alliance between their two kingdoms. though if darius wasn't going to, ryker would — it had been on his mind for quite some time already (in those same flights of fancy). but the burdens of duty always caught him. perhaps after the pressures of darius being king had simmered for a time, unless of course impulse gave young mage the courage, or misplaced confidence depending on how one would look at it.

"you’ve wanted this for as long as i can remember. it’s yours, take it, you deserve it dari." ryker heartened him, taking a hand in his and squeezing it. "i don’t know any other crown prince that works harder… don’t tell my brother that." he loved his eldest brother... but even he could not compare to darius' diligence. worry was also a perfectly natural reaction for the skywarden. and the doubts that darius had just meant that he truly deserved it and would make an excellent king, that he would not take his position for granted. ryker knew he would serve his people well. he had after all witnessed that service first hand. often. though now wasn't really the time to mention it. "steel yourself, you'll get through it. like everything else you've endured. then you'd be king, as you've always desired. you were meant for the crown." he'd compare darius' resolution to the undying king alaric's, but he knew his fellow prince could stand on his own without a reminder of that shadow. speaking of...

"and thank the gods. i told you you had nothing to worry about. your father's as hardy as dragonscale. maybe even as long lasting." he would indulge in darius' assessment of his father — it did after all have an inkling of truth: king alric was, respectfully, elderly in years while darius, the flamed bird and the winged beast bless him, was nearing fifty and only now was he to become king. of course he'd reassured darius when the situation had been concerning. ryker hoped knew it wasn't just empty platitudes he was giving at the time. he had sounded far more confident than he had felt then. and much to the phoenix's graces, he didn't have to retroactively lie to the love of his life — darius' father was as healthy as ever, barring the limp as permanent damage. and ryker was the rock the other prince needed, just as he portrayed himself to be.

@ashreclaimed (ryker)

darius  had  been  avoiding  the  castle—or  rather,  everything  happening  inside  &  around  it.  ever  since  the  grand  announcement  of  his  coronation,  he  had  made  a  point  not  to  linger  at  regia  ignis  more  than  necessary.  it  was  all  a  bit  much.  not  that  drakereach  was  any  less  enamored  with  its  soon-to-be  king,  but  the  city's  excitement  felt  different—less  suffocating,  more  sincere.  the  streets  shimmered  with  doubled  lanterns,  the  markets  bustled  with  a  life  they  hadn’t  seen  in  years  &  music  spilled  from  every  corner.  the  air  was  thick  with  celebration  &  for  a  little  while,  he  could  lose  himself  in  it—forget,  just  for  a  moment,  what  loomed  ahead.

as  the  night  stirred  from  slumber,  darius  knew  it  was  time  to  return  home.  reluctantly,  he  did.  after  sending  seraphina  off  for  the  night,  he  stepped  into  the  castle  &  was  met  with  news—varlinnis  had  arrived  earlier  that  day,  including  the  youngest  prince.  ryker.  the  name  sent  a  thrill  through  him  &  he  wasted  no  time.  he  brushed  aside  any  lingering  duties,  made  quick  work  of  his  obligations  &  hurried  to  his  chambers.  shedding  his  armor—it  had  no  place  where  he  was  going—he  freshened  up  &  grabbed  a  small,  familiar  box  before  slipping  out  to  make  his  way  to  the  prince's  chambers.

moonlight  spilled  through  the  arched  window,  painting  ryker  in  soft  silver  as  he  lay  in  quiet  slumber,  his  bare  shoulders  half-lit  beneath  the  rumpled  sheets.  darius  stood  at  the  edge  of  the  bed,  saying  nothing,  barely  breathing  &  simply  watching.  the  gentle  rise  &  fall  of  ryker’s  chest,  the  way  his  dark  lashes  fanned  against  his  cheek,  the  faint  parting  of  his  lips—it  all  left  darius  utterly  spellbound.  even  in  sleep,  ryker  was  striking,  every  line  of  his  face  carved  with  an  effortless  beauty,  like  something  dreamed  into  existence  rather  than  born.  darius  longed  to  reach  out,  to  trace  the  slope  of  his  jaw  with  his  fingers,  to  press  his  lips  to  the  curve  of  his  shoulder,  but  he  knew  better.

instead,  he  let  himself  admire,  let  himself  ache  in  silence,  memorizing  the  way  ryker  looked  in  this  moment—untouched  by  duty,  unburdened  by  the  world—because  he  knew  that,  soon,  morning  would  come,  and  they  would  have  to  pretend.  but  for  now,  they  were  here,  so  darius  set  his  gifts  down  on  the  night  stand  &  he  carefully  climbed  into  bed  behind  the  other,  the  mattress  dipping  quite  some  under  his  weight.  it  was  most  likely  that  &  a  greedy  arm  slipping  past  ryker's  hip  to  curl  around  his  front  in  an  attempt  to  wrap  around  him  in  his  sleep,  but  darius  felt  the  young  prince  shift  &  stir  awake  &  even  though  he  rumbled  gentle  it's  okay,  sleep  at  him,  ryker  turned  around  to  face  him,  his  eyes  catching  the  crown  prince's  gaze  easily.  "sorry,  i  didn't  mean  to  wake  you."  he  rumbled  quietly.

he lay in bed, tunic off, just in a simple full length cloth loose pants as his sleepwear. the heat of the land not missed, cool mountain winds flowing freely through his guest room in the castle. ryker had kept himself up for a time with a little magic but he was reluctant to overdo it and overtax himself with it. especially not with the important event over the coming days. as such, the young prince turned to lounging on the luxurious bed as the hours of the night passed. eventually, blurred moonlight gave way to the yawn. and that, aided by the weariness of travel, too gave way to the embrace of sleep.

bare chest rising and falling, the rest of his body protected from the elements by a sheet, ryker slept soundly. face serene as it, and he, was bathed in the vissai moonlight. sound and fast asleep he was, but the fates had other plans — not that he would come to complain later.

what woke him was the presence of another in his bed and the scent of embers that did not cause his body to be sent into high alert for any signs of danger. his subconscious was familiar enough to the entity that he felt safe. ryker knew this was no stranger, even in his sleep. still, light sleeper as he was, the prince stirred when a hand came into contact with his bare skin. the deep, alluring rumble telling him to sleep ironically rousing him from his slumber.

a smile on his features, half hidden by shadows and the moustache above his upper lip, as he turned to face the intruder. "i waited." he stated, not accusatory, but as a matter of fact. "or tried to." as evident by the fact that he had fallen asleep.

ever  since  darius  was  a  little  boy,  his  father  had  sat  him  down  on  his  bed  before  sleep,  the  young  prince's  head  on  his  father's  lap  while  the  other  told  him  about  the  legacy  he'd  been  sure  rested  within  the  rider-in-training.  every  single  day,  darius  heard  the  great,  fantastical  stories  of  the  dragonriders  before  him  —  all  the  while  his  own  egg  refused  to  acknowledge  his  mere  existence.  he  care  for  his  egg  greatly,  carried  it  with  him  wherever  he  went,  kept  it  warm  &  cozy,  spoke  to  it  &  all  but  drowned  it  in  love  &  yet  it  bore  no  fruit.  nothing.  not  even  a  twitch.  years  passed  &  the  young  prince  had  almost  lost  hope,  knowing  that  while  his  father  may  not  have  said  it,  but  to  find  his  son  unworthy  of  a  dragon's  trust  ...  surely  didn't  speak  for  darius  as  the  future  king  of  an  empire.

he  wouldn't  have  been  the  first  crown  prince  who  skipped  the  bloodline's  gift,  but  —  he'd  surely  have  been  the  most  disappointed  &  embarrassed,  guilty  of  embarrassing  his  father  for  his  oldest  son  failed  before  he  was  even  ten  years  old.  but  even  though  his  egg  didn't  hatch,  darius  never  once  surrendered.  he  trained,  he  studied,  he  chased  his  father  through  the  castle,  attending  meetings  &  hearings,  inhaling  as  much  as  he  could  to  help  him  grow  up  a  good  future  king.  the  best,  if  able.  he'd  sure  done  the  best  he  could.  he  built  a  name  for  himself,  a  life,  a  reputation.  he  was  proud  of  who  he  was,  even  though  his  life  was  but  a  farce.  he'd  like  to  think  he  wasn't  some  carbon  copy  of  his  father  -  not  at  all,  but  held  himself  the  same  way.  proud,  upright  -  shoulders  squared  &  heart  locked  away.  for  ...safekeeping.

in  his  case  anyway.

he'd  long  since  had  his  heart  claimed,  stolen  by  the  young  varlinnis  prince  &  truth  be  told,  ever  since  ryker  carved  his  name  into  the  lid  of  the  trunk  he  held  it  in,  darius  had  lived  a  lie.  every  single  day.  but  sometimes  fate  was  just  cruel  &  they  were  nothing  but  its  pawns.  life  was  unfair.  but  he'd  been  born  into  this,  had  ...  well,  been  raised  into  this  life,  there  was  no  escaping  it.  nobody  could  know  how  unhappy  he  truly  was.  nobody  did,  not  even  ryker.  darius  held  it  back,  just  like  he'd  been  taught  to.  smile,  not  too  wide  —  a  king  doesn't  grin.  know,  even  if  you  don't  feel  like  it,  you're  the  superior  presence  in  every  room.  speak,  even  if  you'd  rather  remain  silent,  to  prove  you've  mastered  the  lessons  of  life  &  studied  the  written  word  fiercely.  fight,  even  if  you've  got  the  upper  hand,  to  the  death.

but  underneath  it  all,  the  proud,  talented,  gifted,  clever  &  resourceful  crown  prince  &  future  king  of  vissai  ....was  tired.  ryker  saw  him  for  who  he  was  —  truly  &  aside  from  their  playful  banter,  he  embraced  the  softer  side  darius  was  so  afraid  of  presenting  to  the  outside  world  with  open  arms  &  a  warm  smile.  the  warm,  comforting  presence  darius  needed  to  let  go  of  the  mask  he  perfected  over  the  years.  when  it  was  just  them,  it  felt  right.  he  felt  oh  so  much  lighter.  like  the  fates  had  entwined  their  threads  upon  birth,  forged  them  both  in  the  same  fire  &  their  hearts  were  carved  from  the  same  stone.  darius  enjoyed  a  strong  hand  in  his  mouth,  ryker  enjoyed  the  unwavering  devotion  the  crown  prince  was  all  too  eager  to  bestow  upon  the  young  prince.  two  opposite  sides  of  the  same  coin.

darius  could  easily  lose  himself  in  the  delicate  press  of  ryker's  fingers,  tracing,  kissing,  savoring  each  inch  that  had  been  so  graciously  offered  to  him.  yet,  he  understood  the  desire  for  a  change  &  he  welcomed  it.  his  arms  wrapped  around  the  prince,  fingers  tightening  around  strong  limbs,  his  nails  lightly  grazing  down  ryker’s  bicep.  but  above  all,  darius  clung  to  him,  lips  parted,  offering  himself  with  a  quiet,  willing  surrender.  ryker’s  tongue,  inquisitive  &  gentle,  found  its  way  to  his,  and  they  moved  together  in  an  eager,  joyful  rhythm.  the  moment,  though  fleeting,  was  no  less  powerful  &  even  as  it  ended  too  soon  for  either  of  them  to  be  fully  satisfied,  darius  knew  the  young  prince  would  never  disappoint.

dusky  mahogany  eyes,  wide  with  longing,  met  bright  blue  &  for  a  moment,  darius  feared  ryker  might  pull  away  for  good  when  he  did  so  briefly.  but  a  familiar  calm  spread  through  him  when  ryker  didn't.  his  mouth,  still  slightly  parted  from  before,  panted  in  rhythm  with  the  younger  prince's  breath  &  he  welcomed  the  return  of  ryker's  fingers,  now  slipping  deeper  into  his  mouth.  suction  no  longer  gentle,  but  urgent,  almost  demanding.  his  head  tilted  to  the  side,  exposing  his  neck,  vulnerable  &  waiting  for  the  prince's  lips.  a  soft  keen  slipped  from  his  throat  as  his  chest  arched  upward,  pressing  against  ryker's  weight.  though  their  armors  separated  them,  keeping  them  from  truly  feeling  each  other,  it  didn't  matter.  the  connection,  the  closeness,  was  enough.  for  now.

come  now  princess,  spread  your  legs  like  a  good  girl.  for  me.

a  subtle  shiver  ran  through  darius  at  those  words.  ryker’s  voice,  quiet  yet  laced  with  promise,  sent  a  moan  escaping  him,  muffled  around  the  fingers  that  filled  his  mouth.  for  a  brief  moment,  there  was  a  pause  in  the  prince's  movements,  his  skilled  tongue  momentarily  stilled  in  its  worship.  darius'  legs  instinctively  shifted,  his  other  leg  rising  to  form  a  soft,  upward  triangle,  both  legs  gently  angling  outward,  opening  a  path  for  ryker  to  settle  between  them  if  he  chose.  regardless  of  his  decision,  darius  had  already  made  room  for  the  youngest  feinhalnaar,  his  hand  leaving  a  trail  of  warm,  wet  heat  in  its  wake.  soft,  breathless  gasps  &  near-timid  moans  never  ceased,  even  as  ryker’s  attention  shifted.  darius  had  spent  too  many  nights  alone  with  nothing  but  his  own  thoughts,  too  many  stolen  moments  of  yearning,  not  to  savor  the  brief  time  they  had.  he  wanted  the  younger  prince  to  leave  vissai  with  only  one  thought  in  mind:  when  can  i  come  back  to  vissai?

there  was  no  concealing  the  hunger  in  his  gaze,  the  dark  embers  of  desire  flickering  in  his  eyes  as  he  watched  ryker  with  a  focus  that  never  wavered.  his  brow  furrowed  in  anticipation,  following  every  movement  the  young  prince  made,  always  ready  to  meet  his  eyes  when  the  young  sorcerer  surfaced  for  air  or  shifted  to  deepen  the  push  of  his  fingers,  a  moan  escaping  darius  in  response.  he  arched  into  it,  lifting  his  hips  from  the  ground  as  if  pulled  by  some  invisible  force.  the  presence  of  their  guards  barely  registered  in  his  mind;  after  all,  they'd  witnessed  this  before,  some  more  often  than  others.  it  was  what  it  was.  his  hands,  eager  &  possessive,  found  their  way  to  the  prince’s  silken  locks,  fingers  curling  into  them  as  ryker’s  mouth  pressed  against  his  neck.

it  was  his  turn  now—his  chance  to  give  back  a  little,  to  touch,  to  feel,  to  claim.  "—ease."  please. a  soft,  almost  plaintive  whine  escaped  him  while  ryker’s  fingers  lingered  in  his  mouth,  the  wet  trail  of  saliva  slipping  down  his  chin.  still,  he  held  most  of  it  back,  a  subtle  effort  to  keep  himself  composed.  if  ryker  didn't  wish  for  the  sounds,  he  knew  he  could  easily  quiet  them.  but  the  weight  of  his  touch,  the  closeness  of  the  moment,  made  it  all  the  more  difficult  to  resist.

darius'  thirst  burned  through  him,  a  yearning  that  felt  more  urgent  than  anything  he'd  ever  known.  in  this  moment,  he  couldn't  think  of  anything  he  needed  more  than  this.  here,  there,  anywhere—it  didn't  matter.  if  his  father  walked  in,  it  wouldn’t  have  made  a  difference;  his  gaze,  his  entire  focus,  was  consumed  by  ryker.  his  solare.

the  world  outside,  the  kingdom,  all  of  it  faded  to  nothingness.  there  was  only  them.  darius  could  feel  his  pulse  in  his  throat,  his  body  alive  with  the  heat  of  desire,  his  chest  rising  and  falling  in  shallow  breaths.  every  inch  of  him  craved  the  young  prince’s  touch,  the  connection  that  burned  between  them,  as  though  their  souls  were  speaking  a  language  all  their  own.  for  a  moment,  it  was  as  though  nothing  else  existed  beyond  the  steady  rhythm  of  their  bodies,  his  hands  tangled  in  ryker’s  hair,  pulling  him  closer,  urging  him  deeper  into  the  shared  embrace.  the  ache  was  almost  unbearable,  consuming  him  whole.

his sweat trickled down his face, dripping onto the other man's face, neck and armoured chest. the hand on the dragonrider's face moved, scratching at the facial hair as it quested down, fingers caught between the other's jaw and throat. squeezing lightly as he forced darius to give him an answer.

his focus was not lost on the happenings below the waist however. the feinhalnaar was determined to assault darius' senses from both fronts. divide and conquer, as in battle. ryker frowned as his saliva slicked fingers dipped down deep under the other man's tunic and found a hinderance to his earned prize. wicked grin, voiced raised in mock anger, "what's all this then. covering yourself up, hiding from me when i expressly ordered you not to?" fingers pulling linen cloth aside, the last two holding it back while index and middle aimed straight for darius' pretty hole. "hmmm? like you aren't going to give it up to me." a brush of two fingers at his rim. darius, he didn't deserve them just yet. ryker was far more composed than a man should be in his state. he certainly enjoyed the contrast between him and the vissai prince under him. just another thing that differentiated them. their age, their position in the bloodline, and now this.

the prince pushed in, barely, the slightest of his fingertips, but stopped there — the rider's saliva would have been enough to allow him to ease more in but ryker was holding back. "not when you're gagging for it like a whore. aren't you?" a pause as he looked down on the skywarden's body. letting the rhetorical question sink in. "your hips twitching, all wanton like you can't even control yourself. like you can't wait to get your pussy cored out. not even when we have an audience." he cast eyes to their guards, before he angled the crown prince's head towards them too. ryker wanted him to look at them, see how they were watching. darius' outnumbered his, three to one. some were indeed resolutely watching, taking their jobs seriously or mayhaps were intrigued or entertained by the proceedings; some turned slightly away, giving them the false illusion of privacy. ryker locked eyes with one of darius', almost like a dare: what are you going to do about it? your prince being claimed by his younger. all too willingly partaking in it no less. a thrill at being so public about his affections and more. but that wasn't all, it was about asserting his dominance upon the older, more well-respected man while other people, specifically his subordinates, were witnessing it.

@ashreclaimed location: ritrinc (early evening of the festival)

upon  arriving,  malik  heard  from  one  of  the  guards  that  his  brother  had  shown  interest  in  the  harvest  festival  as  well  &  should  arrive  soon  after  him.  to  claim  he  was  surprised  would  be  a  blatant  lie,  because  dear  ryker  never  let  an  opportunity  like  this  slide.  at  least  one  of  them  had  found  their  knight  in  shining  armor.  malik  had  already  seen  him  prancing  about,  the  crown  prince  of  vissai  -  though  without  his  armor  he  almost  didn't  recognize  him.  he'd  have  to  ensure  the  two  lovebirds  meet  later,  but  for  now...  when  his  eyes  caught  glimpse  of  his  baby  brother,  he  wanted  to  enjoy  a  little  time  with  him  alone.

"ry,  i  knew  you  wouldn't  miss  a  chance  to  see  him."  no  name  needed,  they  both  knew  who  he  meant.  it  didn't  even  matter  if  that  was  the  reason,  malik  just  liked  teasing  his  brother.  he  was  a  little  sweaty  from  dancing,  a  little  tipsy  from  the  wine,  but  he  would've  pulled  his  brother  into  a  hug  regardless  of  it.  "when  will  you  chase  across  the  lands  for  your  beloved  brother,  hm?"

the youngest varlinnis prince didn't deny the allegations that he would not ever miss a chance to his dragonrider. anyone that knew him well enough could see that clear as day. "what about you? you think you're going to find d'sólchroí here?" it was no secret that malik was a romantic; well, he was too. anyone that knew him well enough would also know that. darius, the main object of his affections, most of all. and ryker knew that his brother deserved the world and love just as much as anyone, more than that actually.

"what did father have to say, knowing you'll turn heads looking like this. which prince or lord is he trying to marry you off to this time? or is he hoping to get more offers for your hand in marriage?" it was also no secret that their father, king eagan, had been trying to marry his brother off for their family and kingdom’s prosperity. malik was a vision of beauty and anyone would be lucky and blessed by the phoenix to have him. their father knew this and had been constantly making steps to secure their position within the kingdoms by exploiting that sentiment.

every  moment  darius  had  with  the  young  varlinnis  prince  was  precious,  their  inevitably  forced  departure  looming  over  them  through  time  spent  together,  but  the  crown  prince  did  his  best  to  ignore  the  tick  tock  tick  tock  rattling  on  &  on  in  the  back  of  his  head.  he'd  always  try  to  make  the  most  of  it,  fill  his  lungs  with  ryker's  scent  so  he  wouldn't  miss  him  too  much  when  they  both  returned  to  their  respective  kingdoms  &  lives.

it  was  never  enough.

it  would  never  be  enough.

unless...

didn't  matter.  when  the  choice  was  lodged  between  his  kingdom  or  his  heart,  the  latter  couldn't  compete.  shouldn't.  no  matter  how  much  he  wanted  it  to  &  so  this  would  have  to  be  enough.  it  ..had  to  suffice.  if  all  they  had  were  moments,  darius  decided  to  make  the  best  of  them.  soak  in  the  bright  light  that  was  ryker  feinhalnaar  so  his  brightness  could  keep  the  dark  from  overwhelming  his  heart  ..at  least  for  a  while.

"is  it  not?  a  dragon  knows  when  it  is  outmatched,  even  by  a  fiery  little  bird.  even  the  smallest  spark  can  ignite  a  blaze,  so  come  and  take  your  prize,  carus."  bias  or  not,  darius  saw  that  spark  in  ryker,  it  burned  bright  &  steady,  the  crown  prince  had  no  doubt  the  younger  man  would  make  it  far  in  this  world.  he  could  pluck  the  stars  from  the  sky  if  he  so  much  as  tried  to  &  darius  admired  him  for  it.  envied  him,  some  days.  not  because  he  hadn't  had  the  chance  to  do  so,  but  because  he  didn't  find  the  courage  in  his  heart  to  try  when  he  was  younger.  nevertheless,  he  knew  where  he  belonged  &  that  he,  indeed,  was  a  prize  ripe  for  the  taking.  he'd  just  been  lucky  enough  to  avoid  any  &  all  arrangements  so  far.

once  upon  a  time,  darius  might've  been  hesitant  before  curious  eyes  of  his  guards,  but  when  he  was  but  a  mere  visitor  of  his  own  life  with  years  soaring  by  &  he  realized  that  he  would  never  truly  be  alone  for  he  was  born  with  a  silver  spoon  in  his  mouth,  he  chose  to  trust  in  their  loyalty  to  the  crown  &  their  empathy  since  darius  had  only  very  little  in  his  life  that  was  truly  his  —  these  moments  were  a  part  of  that  &  audience  or  not,  darius  struggled  every  single  time  not  to  get  lost  in  them.  he'd  much  rather  remain  here.  with  his  prince's  eyes  on  him  &  scent  flooding  his  senses  as  he  all  but  worshipped  each  &  every  finger  alike.  darius  didn't  play  favorites  like  that.

not  much  effort  was  required  to  replace  the  mildly  erratic  breaths  post  spar  with  something  a  little  softer  &  yet  just  as  out  of  line  for  a  crown  prince.  soft  gasps  against  fingers  he  wished  weren't  idle,  his  heart  thrumming  a  rhythm  of  joy  &  ecstasy,  a  moan  unblemished  &  untainted  curled  around  digits  that  finally  conquered  the  warm,  wet  heat  of  his  mouth.  no  orders  were  required,  the  young  varlinnis  prince  knew  better  than  anyone.  back  lifted  off  the  ground  to  chase,  darius'  tongue  swirled  around  his  fingers,  cheeks  hollowed  when  drawing  them  deeper,  suction  firm  but...  teasingly  slow  despite  the  unmistakable  sense  of  urgency  that  crept  up  his  spine.  more,  more,  more.

each  press,  each  movement  sent  a  spark  of  desire  coursing  through  him,  body  all  but  arching  into  the  touch,  the  rhythm  building  an  unspoken  tension.  the  crown  prince's  eyes  never  left  ryker's  face,  watching  for  signs  of  approval  or  ..not,  eager  to  adjust,  eager  to  please,  a  faint  moan  escaping  when  pushed  down  &  held  in  place  by  a  beautiful  prince  on  top  of  him.  almost  ...anyway.  another,  more  guttural  sound  tore  through  him,  lips  tightening  around  each  digit  before  greedily  pulling  them  back  in,  the  act  of  devotion  turning  to  pure,  unbridled  need.

however  a  kiss,  gentle  &  sweet,  broke  the  rhythmic  arch  &  crane  of  his  neck  for  the  shortest  moment,  one  of  his  big  hands  surging  up  to  wrap  around  the  prince's  bicep,  mostly  to  ground  himself  or  else  he  might've  gone  mad  with  want & one  of  his  legs  pushed  up,  sole  on  the  ground.  even  now,  with  the  indescribable  need  for  more  overriding  everything,  the  area  around  them  felt  charged,  the  air  thick  with  the  sound  of  labored  breathing  &  wet,  rhythmic  noises  that  seemed  impossibly  loud  in  the  moment,  though  darius  found  not  a  single  fiber  of  him  that  cared.

one thing that was certain was that ryker wore his heart on his sleeve, cared greatly and deeply for those he loved; among them his brothers and darius. the young prince will take what time he can get with the older. fleeting as they were and yet... long drawn out beats — entire pages of the book that was his life — like the way his heart beat against his chest at every instance of their intimacy and closeness, or every waking moment haunted by the touch of the dragonrider.

firestarter. he'd made waves around the kingdom the day he was born, and growing up that was no different. now here he was, almost 30, all bravado and peak form, sharp sword and woven magic between fingertips.

but almost void of hard edges. no, ryker hadn't lost all that gentleness within him. his inner sun burned warm. it was bright as a flame, shone in his actions no matter who he interacted with; the servants, the maids, the merchants he sneaked out of the castle to patronise. nevertheless that didn't mean he couldn't be firm or rough when the time called for it.

he wasn’t rough now though, at least not yet, didn’t jam his fingers deeper into the cavern that was darius’ eager mouth, content with letting the crown prince work over his fingers on his own time. slow and sensual and yet need and heat contrasted that. ryker could let go on if he wished, certain he could spend hours just with his fingers in darius' mouth. he didn't want to remain a passive participant in this however. the prince slot his leg between the other, fully over him now, his outer thigh against the vissai prince's raised inner thigh. as his tongue pushed for entry like his fingers did, lips and tongue insistent on their destination. mouth swallowing the keening sounds that darius made. as if to give way for one appendage, saliva-slick fingers slid out briefly to let ryker deepen the kiss.

the youngest feinhalnaar claimed the heir's mouth like a man starved, tasting spit as he chased darius' talented tongue. but fond of teasing as he was, ryker pulled back just as quickly. pupils dilated when they parted, breath in short laboured exhales. hard, aching in his armour. his body shuffled, weight on his knees as he straightened himself a little before dipping back down. fingers once again replaced his lips and tongue, but his other hand this time, which pressed insistently on the other's face, while he went low.

mouth against the curve of darius' scruffy jaw, tasting sweat, sand, hair and breathing in the musk of the skywarden. nothing quite like the smell of eroticism mixed in with a day's worth of labour and sparring. he could get high just off on it.

but he had better plans, voice thick with arousal, rough, spoken into the shell of darius' ear. "come now princess, spread your legs like a good girl. for me." hand on the other's bare thigh, sliding up his skirt, fingers slick with the prince's saliva questing for ryker's true prize. magic thrumming underneath, pressing a little bit of heat onto the older prince's skin.

even  though  darius  had  first-hand  experience  in  the  art  of  warfare  &  bloody  slaughter,  he  was  under  no  illusion  that  he  could  sit  idle  &  rest  on  his  proverbial  throne.  nobody  else  would  &  as  the  crown  prince  of  vissai  he  couldn't  afford  to  be  left  behind.  age  already  took  its  toll  on  him  on  the  regular,  time  such  a  fragile  construct  he  didn't  dare  mess  with  it.  he  just  did  what  he  could  not  to  be  left  behind.

"shhhh,  all  i've  got  on  you  is  age."  sparring  with  ryker  -  or  some  of  the  others  he  liked  to  challenge  his  prowess  on,  kept  him  young.  or  something  close  to  that.  it  kept  him  on  his  toes,  because  if  he  so  much  as  gave  an  inch,  the  young  prince  would  take  him  down.  darius  had  a  decade  or  two  on  him,  but  he  doubted  that  distance  would  protect  him  for  all  eternity.  truth  be  told,  he  didn't  want  to  find  out  how  long  it  took  ryker  to  catch  up.  he'd  much  rather  keep  his  edge,  if  only  to  excuse  why  they  had  to  keep  meeting  up  for  sparring.  for  the  good  of  the  young  prince,  of  course.

he  admired  the  young  warrior  for  his  skills,  combining  magic  &  the  sword  seemingly  effortlessly.  sometimes  darius  found  envy  in  his  heart,  but  then  he  heard  the  heavy  beat  of  seraphina's  wings  &  he  knew  that  he  wouldn't  want  it  to  be  any  different  than  this.  he  felt  true  happiness  in  moments  like  these,  shared  with  the  one  person  he  would  give  up  everything  for.  not  that  ryker  knew.  darius  didn't  dare  entertain  the  idea  of  running  away  together,  because  if  he  did,  he  may  want  to  do  more  than  daydream  about  it.

the  prince's  fingers  tried  quite  hard  to  draw  his  attention  &  for  a  short  moment  they  did  as  they  marched  up  his  chest,  but  with  the  other's  face  so  close  to  his  own,  lips  pulled  up  into  the  cheekiest  grin,  one  that  could  melt  hearts  &  end  wars  alike,  fingers  were  soon  forgotten  &  the  old  prince  found  himself  lost  in  the  blue  of  his  eyes.  so  opposite  his  own.  like  someone  caught  the  sky  &  gifted  it  to  ryker  for  his  eyes.  the  sky  was  darius'  favorite  place  to  be.  how  very  fitting.  "i  suppose  you've  got  me  now.  your  prey,  your  prize  —  for  i  surrender  myself  to  you  and  only  you."  he  had  no  qualms  admitting  defeat  in  this  case.

fingers  found  skin  despite  the  many  layers  of  cloth  &  leather  between  them,  breath  caught  in  his  throat.  so  close,  yet  ....so  far.  darius'  gaze  lingered,  chasing  ryker's  own  up  his  own  body  right  up  until  their  eyes  met  once  more.  sky  meeting  the  deep,  dark  embers  of  the  earth.  made  to  be  one,  one  lost  without  the  other.  gaze  was  held,  held  &  held,  his  body  yearning  for  him  to  move.  take  what  you  want,  just  once  in  your  godforsaken  life.  darius  heeded  the  call,  fingers  curling  around  the  younger  man's  wrist,  once  again  stealing  his  hand  for  himself.

however  this  time  he  had  more  in  mind  than  to  simply  hold  it.  they'd  made  their  way  up  close  enough  in  the  first  place,  he  was  just  helping  them  along.  hand  lifted  to  his  lips,  first  the  palm  —  lips  pursed  against  it,  kisses  placed  atop  every  single  inch,  then  he'd  extend  his  reach  towards  the  prince's  fingers,  though  not  before  holding  &  breathing  him  in.  nobody  he  ever  met  smelled  sweeter,  even  now  when  they  were  both  dirty,  skin  salty  with  sweat.

but  before  too  long  he  was  placing  wet,  open-mouthed  kisses  against  fingertips,  maybe  —  if  ryker  paid  attention,  he'd  feel  a  cheeky  tongue  join  lips  in  their  efforts.  maybe.  pinky  finger  came  first,  followed  by  the  ring  finger  darius  oh  so  wished  bore  the  sigil  carried  on  his  chest  &  in  his  heart.  every  finger  was kissed  with  great  care  down  to  the  very  last.

it seemed like darius had other, more concrete plans.

none of which were unwelcome either. in fact, they were sorely welcome.

like the vissai prince going off about his reward for a chase well done. matching him for turn of phrase, ryker nodded, face still not deviating from the smile that seemed permanently plastered over it — catch him with his cheeks hurting after all this was said and done, "a large fire breathing dragon surrendering to a small fire bird isn't a good look for you, crown prince." well to everyone else. to him however... it was darius' best look. "but i accept the terms of your surrender. and my prize." darius was, after all, a coveted prize, especially by many, and one he’d cheat to win. the other encapsulated everything ryker sought after: his penchant for older men, someone sturdy who challenged him and yet was willing to fold to his desires, a fighter (and a lover).

and as if on cue, the other recaptured his hand. ryker, well, followed to see where this was going.

sure, gossip was insidious, but that didn't stop him from being blatant in his intention with the vissai heir — though by rights darius made the first move, at least in this case — didn't stop darius from giving his fingers a very sensual worship, didn't stop them from doing this out in the open in the castle training grounds. let their guards watch. they'll see who knelt to and for who, if they haven't already.

like his skills, ryker honed into the other's actions. blood pumping through his body again, but for a very different reason this time. "mihál." he breathed out. the high from the fight transformed into flames burn within him, for darius. desire bubbling under his armour, under his skin, as his bright blue pearls for eyes attached themselves to every minute movement.

as darius kissed his fingers and teased them with a flick of his tongue, ryker's pupils dilated with arousal. the young prince pushed his fingers into the other's mouth, ring and last finger to start. knowing he did not need to tell darius what to do. he was conditioned to suck. "caomhnóir an spéir, don't start what you can't finish." not that he doubted darius' ability to follow through.

royalty  came  with  a  price  that  demanded  to  be  paid,  unrelenting  in  its  wake  for  it  blessed  them  with  perks  &  privileges  unlike  any  other  class  across  the  realm.  nobody  knew  that  as  well  as  him  &  the  young  prince  training  feverishly  with  him  on  the  regular  —  darius  saw  to  it,  the  little  use  he  could  make  of  his  influence  without  seemingly  abusing  his  power.  he  didn't  ask  for  much.  he  deserved  to  spend  time  with  one  of  the  few  people  in  his  life  he  adored  every  now  &  then.

moments  like  this  reminded  him  of  the  sacrifices  he  made,  which  ryker  would  eventually  have  to  make  for  himself,  too.  he  may  not  be  the  crown  prince,  but  his  life  came  with  a  similar  burden  as  his  own,  so  he  understood  &  felt  with  him.  he'd  shield  him  from  it  all  if  he  could,  if  he'd  be  granted  the  opportunity  to  free  him  from  the  shackles  of  the  feinhalnaar  royal  family,  he'd  give  up  himself  willingly.  but  alas,  the  crown  prince  of  vissai  could  have  dreams  &  revel  in  them,  acknowledging  that  they  would  never  see  the  light  of  day.

another  cruel  lesson  learned.  fights  never  went  according  to  plan.  adaptation  was  key.  he'd  led  armies  into  battle,  had  protected  his  home  &  his  people,  he  lost  &  he  won  fights  —  darius  knew  the  good  &  the  bad  of  it  all,  but  one  reason  many  found  him  unmatched  in  battle  was  his  knack  at  developing  battle  strategies.  alternative  routes  to  be  taken  in  dire  situations.  spontaneous  &  deadly.  vissai's  heir  may  be  one  bull  of  a  man,  but  he  knew  better  than  anyone  that  raw  strength  was  only  rarely  the  way.

least  of  all  when  his  opponent  was  cunning  &  quick  on  his  feet  like  ryker  was.  yet,  they  ended  on  a  tie.  darius  liked  winning,  but  if  he  was  concerned,  spending  time  with  the  young  prince  was  a  win  by  itself.  sweat  pooled  around  his  own  forehead  when  their  eyes  met  again  on  the  hard,  sandy  ground  of  the  arena,  head  rolling  to  the  side  to  bring  their  faces  closer,  basking  in  the  afterglow  of  a  splendid  fight.  gaze  trailing  off,  tracing  a  droplet  of  sweat  diving  off  the  tip  off  ryker's  nose  &  watched  it  hit  the  ground  with  a  soft  sigh  on  his  lips.

a  dragon  hatched  somewhere  across  the  kingdom  every  time  ryker  smiled,  darius  would  bet  his  life  on  that.  it  was  warm,  it  was  sweet,  it  was  inviting,  it  was...  no,  he  was  irresistible.  "meat  and  training,  huh?  need  to  try  that."  he  chuckled  quietly,  one  of  his  hands  -  the  one  that  had  been  squished  in-between  them,  found  the  young  prince's  vacant  one,  fingers  entwining  while  he  pulled  it  against  his  chest.  "i  daresay  you're  even  more  handsome  when  you  chase  me  around  like  i'm  a  boy."  part  of  why  he  enjoyed  their  sparring  so  much  -  despite  wanting  to  spend  time  with  ryker,  was  because  he  didn't  hold  back.  he  wasn't  afraid  of  him. 

still, that was why he enjoyed sparring with the older man, even without the promise of any sort of salacious activities after. it forced him to constantly adapt and push himself to be better, hone his skills to be at the peak; trying to outsmart and outlast the other. "please, you've got everything on me already." he couldn't beat darius in a completely fair fight void of magical assistance — though the point was moot since the enhancements was a part of him in every way at this point.

ryker released his hand from the other's grip, leaning forward. two fingers moving up darius' chestpiece, like a little man walking over it, traversing over the ridges and bumps of the dragon insignia. "careful now. you know i like a good chase." eyes following where his fingers trailed as his grin held.

his fingers stopped at the edge of the armour, where cloth met metal. dancing a little on the fabric. teasing the other without quite touching his neck. dipping down to caress the collarbone. "my dearest darius." the other prince wasn't an ocean away, their lands connected... but sometimes, even with darius' dragon (who he held immense respect for and was still a little afraid of even after all this time), it felt like there was a vast distance that separated them.

his glance lifted upwards, from the sigil engraved onto the armour, over the man’s neck and then his jaw, at his mouth where his gaze lingered — oh the things he’d do, had done — before returning to darius’ eyes. all features he admired. his own features had turned soft, eyes twinkling with a little gentleness mixed with mischief.

@ashreclaimed location: vissaian castle training grounds inspo: check me hehe

sweat  &  metal  flew,  panted  breaths  &  soft  grunts  filled  the  space  around  them.  when  the  pair  sparred,  nothing  else  mattered,  though  darius  could  say  the  same  for  any  time  he  trained.  there  was  something  magical  about  it  even  when  there  was  no  actual  magic  involved.  it  was  the  thrill  of  the  fight,  the  pull  on  his  very  soul  &  the  gentle  hum  of  uncertainty  that  had  him  on  edge  for  it  all.  his  loyal  companion  sat  towering  above  them,  always  an  eye  on  her  human  half  even  though  darius  was  no  longer  a  babe  that  needed  it.

sparring  with  the  younger  prince  always  held  a  special  place  in  darius'  heart,  a  joy  they  shared  -  or  so  he  hoped,  even  though  he'd  never  ask.  their  time  together  would  forever  be  limited,  but  that  only  implied  they  had  to  make  the  most  of  every  second  granted,  did  it  not?  moments  like  this,  he  knew  he'd  been  born  blessed  -  not  for  the  silverspoon  in  his  mouth  or  the  split  tongue  that  bore  the  dragon's  speak,  but  for  the  opportunity  to  feel  this  way.

heart  racing  with  passion,  a  fire  ablaze  in  his  eyes,  flickering  with  every  clash  of  their  swords  &  when  the  final  swing  of  heated  metal  sent  his  blade  flying,  he  truly  felt  alive.  a  few  dodges  &  rolls,  a  few  cuts  &  bruises  until  armors  collided  &  bodies  toppled  to  the  ground  in  silent  defeat.  a  tie,  one  of  many  for  neither  cared  to  win.  noses  almost  touched  for  a  moment,  eyes  locked  &  gazes  held,  though  it  was  darius  who  surrendered  his  position  atop  the  younger  warrior  to  collapse  on  his  back,  chest  heaving  with  ragged  breaths.

"by  the  skies,  what  are  they  feeding  you  back  home?  you  get  stronger  every  time  we  meet."

but there was nothing quite like putting his skills to the test against the crown prince of vissai. and nothing quite like the trysts they had after all was said and done. darius, for all intents and purposes, was one of the strongest, if not the strongest opponents he's ever had the pleasure of facing. the older man pushed ryker to his limits in the best way, constantly challenging him to be better. be stronger. well, evidently it paid off. if darius' remarks was anything to go by.