honor and loyalty

I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.

It was an even better night to celebrate the princess’s eighteenth birthday.

“Do you think she liked her gifts?” Isaac mused from beside him. He was resplendent tonight, in dark blue velvet and braided, polished black leather belts. Gold trim adorned his chest, signifying his exalted rank of Lord Regent. He had shaved, showing the sharp lines of his jaw, and it made Mason think of a much younger Isaac, the first time Mason had seen him – standing in the middle of the throne room, newly appointed and facing down the hoard of an unsatisfied court.

Mason had fallen in love with him then. His grace, his poise. His unshakable conviction when he had planted his shield into the dirt like a bulwark ready to defend the future of the Princess and his son and the rest of their realm.

“It’s Olivia,” Mason said dryly. “She adores everything. It’s Luca that’s harder to please.”  

“Luca is easy to please-”

“-as long as he gets everything he wants,” Mason cut him off with a chuckle. “And you do so indulge him, my love.”

“I know,” Isaac sighed, but a rueful smile played around his mouth. They saw the prince in the corner, too close to his knight for proprietaries sake but all unwilling to attempt to separate them. Luca was happiest when Ser Eoin was nearby, and Mason knew they wouldn’t find a better protector. He was sure there was more to their relationship than what there should be but he chose not to dwell on it. An angry princeling wasn’t worth anyone’s effort when he was such a delight when he was content.

His sister was a different story.

Mason’s gaze found her in the dancing revellers, dark hair curled in waves down her back, the pale pastel pinks of her gown setting off her dark skin. She was with her knight, her protector, and if Luca was to be believed, her one true love and the promised father of her future children.

It had taken a long time for Mason to wrap his head around that.

“There is one thing we can give her,” Mason said after a long moment. He sensed Isaac’s eyes watching her too. Watching the way the knight held her, the way they looked at each other like there was no one else in the room. Their love was like a star – too bright too ignore, too bright to look at too closely. It was blinding and all consuming… and the potential to derail everything Isaac and Mason had worked towards while raising the Princess to take on the mantle of Queen on her twenty first birthday. “And it’s the one thing only we can.”

There was a frown in Isaac’s voice and Mason groped for his hand. “And what’s that?”

“Our blessing, Zac.”

Mason caught the bob of Isaac’s throat they both watched the young couple twirl around the dance floor. Olivia slight and dark despite the pale shimmering gossamer gown that clung to her body accentuating her womanly curves. She wasn’t a little girl anymore and the golden knight that danced with her wasn’t the stone faced, silent squire Mason’s father had brought to him to train not long after his marriage to Isaac. They were grown now… and undeniably in love.

“What if you’re wrong,” Isaac murmured, turning to him. The grip on Mason’s hand tightened. He could see the war in his husband’s eyes. The need to give his daughter in all but name every joy, and the need to do his duty by his kingdom. Their realm had already failed the fae once and Isaac was determined not to let it happen again.

“Look at him. There can’t be any doubt. He has to be a Morrisini.”

“But the lost prince? Mase, that’s a big gamble.”

“It is. But he loves her, she loves him. There’s no one better to protect her or her heart. Everything else we can figure out later. Together.”

Mason knew the moment his words had sunk somewhere deep into his husband. Isaac’s stance softened, and he gave Mason one last glance before he moved towards the couple on the dance floor. Mason watched him, his heart almost bursting out of his chest to see the way he clamped a hand on Enzo’s shoulder, another on Olivia’s and smiled at them both. He said something that made Olivia’s eyes widen and fly to her mouth, and she threw her arms around him to hug him tight, almost rocking him backwards. Isaac smiled into her hair and Enzo’s lips moved in a quiet thanks.

When he turned to return to his husband’s side, Mason wasn’t sure he had ever seen anything so beautiful, or loved anyone so much as he did when he saw Isaac walking towards him.

“You’re the love of my fucking life, Isaac,” Mason said, suddenly unable to hold the swell inside when Isaac reached him. “All of them. You were made for me. I’m so proud of you and everything you do.”

Isaac smiled down at his hands as he worked, skinning a rabbit to prep it for the fire pit's spit.

"I don't think anyone has ever complimented my butcher skills before."

"It's not the skill that I'm complimenting."

That made him chuckle. A low, warm sound from deep in his chest. Mason closed his eyes to soak it in. It was a sound they hadn't heard enough of lately.

"Let me clean up." Isaac told him finally, carefully resting the catch to roast above the burning campfire between them. "And then, sweetheart, we can enjoy each other until supper is done."

"I'll come with you," Mason said, following Isaac through the trees to the babbling brook near their campsite. Clear water rushed along the rocks, over sandy river bottom as Isaac crouched down to wipe away the muck on his hands and blade.

Mason had meant every word, once again admiring the strong lines of his husband's jaw and the curl of his dark hair damp against his nape. He had long since shucked his armor, leaving only his loose white shirt behind and Isaac soon tugged it over his head, dropping it to the mossy ground. He scooped up the fresh water and splashed his face and Mason greedily drank in the ripple of muscle across his back as his husband moved.

Mason started to unbuckle his belt, laying aside his sword still tucked into its intricate scabbard before laying it beside his boots. His briches went next and he was soon padding barefoot and naked past his husband on the edge of the water.

He caught a glimpse of Isaac's hungry gaze as he waded out. The shock of it was cold against his skin but invigorating. Everything about this moment was invigorating.

He looked back at his husband, the water now lapping at his waist. He ducked his head, scrubbing his face and his hair and allowing cool rivits of water to run along his skin.

"Well?" He asked expectantly, his chin lifting in a slight challenge even as his eyes sparkled. "Are you going to come join me, love?"

Isaac peeled off his clothes and waded into the water to join him. Mason reached for him, pulling him close as the birds chirped their songs overhead.

Isaac curled his arms around him. "There's not much in this world that makes me happier than being alone here with you."

“I can’t get enough of you, Mase.” Isaac whispered his devotions, nipping his husband’s full lips, savoring the stubble of his jaw, the otherworldly pale green of his stunning eyes. “I’ve never wanted anything so much.”

“I’m all yours, my love.”

Mason melted underneath his husband’s practiced touch. They’d been together more than a decade now – since they were little more than fumbling children despite the heavy titles that they bore. But they were secluded, truly alone from subjects or politics or, even kids, far and few enough that every time it seemed brand new.

Isaac’s hand found his husband’s ass, pawing at the curves of him under the water, pulling their hips together as their kisses grew hungrier and hastier. Thick fingers pressed against Mason and Isaac groaned at the lewd moans the spilled from his husband when he dipped in to the first knuckle, bucking himself against the Archduke’s thigh.

“Mase.”

Isaac sounded strangled, a little pained, and Mason chuckled into his skin. No one else got to see his frayed edges, his desperation. When all of the good inside of him that was always screaming at him to hold everything back fell quiet against the raging storm of his need. Mason’s fingers curled into his wet hair, pulling him closer with soft kisses that said he knew too well.

“Take me, Isaac. I’m all yours.” He repeated for good measure, encouraging his husband to let himself go.

Isaac didn’t need more prodding. He kissed Mason one more time, warm and heavy, only pulling back when the taste of him overwhelmed everything else, before he turned him in his hands, pressing small kisses to the back of his neck and one shoulder as he tucked him closer and lined their bodies up.