#conqueror au

“Does the thought of marriage to me truly disgust you so?” she asked, voice both amused and curious.

“Not at all,” he responded before he could stop himself. He forced his gaze back to her face with great effort.

If anything, she seemed even more amused at his cursory perusal of her body. He gritted his teeth and inwardly cursed his temporary lack of self-control. She wasn’t the first beautiful woman he had encountered, but her presence put all others out of his mind.

au where the revolutionary war was much more conqueror-y style and alex was fighting in the british army 

The camp was silent.The snow crunched underneath his boots. The men were lined up around the camp, forced to their knees with their hands tied behind their back, eyes directed at the ground. George could hear slow breaths and sobs that weren’t quite muffled. He kept his head held high and continued to walk forward, looking ahead at the men with swords pressed to their throat, his soldiers awaiting the order.

Only five men were left - the British General’s closest confidants.

Four of them were looking at the ground, starting to shake as George approached. The one in the middle was looking right at him, a fierce glint in his eye. George frowned. “Who are you, boy?”

The boy narrowed his eyes, and after a single second’s hesitation, spat in his face.

 The camp froze.

Shouts of outrage and offense broke out behind him, and the man with his sword to the boy’s throat adjusted his grip. 

George raised his hand. “Stop. Let him live. Send him to my tent with my evening meal.”

The soldier’s eyes widened. “But, your Excellency, you can’t allow such disrespect.”

“You are not to tell me what I can and cannot allow. I am the Commander here, is that understood?”

The soldier’s eyes dropped. “Of course, your Excellency.”

“Very good.” He looked around, took in the scene. He clasped his hands behind his back. “Kill the rest. Bathe the boy before you bring him to me.”

Hours passed.

His wine was poured and the boy was brought in. George set his drink down and addressed the guards who had escorted the boy, “leave us.”

The guards left. He chewed a bite of pork in his mouth. The boy glared at him.

George wiped his mouth with his hand and stood up and walked around the desk until there were only inches of space between him and the boy. George smiled and the boy paled. 

“What’s you name?”

“Why should I tell you?”

The boy’s voice was sharp, cutting, not portraying his fear. 

George took a small step closer. “Because if you don’t tell me I’ll feed you to my hounds.”

“Hamilton.” The boy swallowed. “I am Alexander Hamilton.”

“You’re very beautiful, Alexander.”

The boy’s eyes widened, mouth dropping open. “You can’t, I mean, you’re–”

“Shhhh.” George lifted his hand to Alexander’s cheek. “You have a spirit to match your looks. I’m going to make you mine, my beautiful Alexander.”

Alexander shook his head. “No, no, I won’t-”

He raised his other hand to place a finger over Alexander’s lips. “You won’t have to do anything.”

Alexander’s eyes were shining. “You can’t.”

“I can.” He ran his thumb over Alexander’s cheek bone. “Are you scared? Don’t be. I‘ll protect you from today onwards. No one else will touch you.”

Alexander whimpered.

“Shhh, my beautiful boy. There’s no need to be scared.”

( @inspired-flame )

There had been rumors. Whispers of happenings in Ionia, of power dynamics and shifts in leadership. Spending much of his time in his homeland the shaman had little chance to visit beyond the occasional meeting with the monks, but this...

As Udyr approached the capital, he could sense the difference. The spirits were in distress, and he could very easily feel something foreign in the air...normally the aura of this location was serene, peaceful...now the air seemed to crackle with intimidation. As he strolled through the streets, there seemed to be far fewer people than normal. Those that were around? They were quiet, skittish. He approached two of them to speak, but both seemed to step back and kept their distance.

Dwalin woke to the cinnamon-scent of his new wife, arms aching from the night's fights. His Nori was quick as the wind and just as unpredictable. He loved her all the more for it. They smiled at each other for a moment, calm and content in the other's presence. "Think they'll be able to tell?" Nori asked. Dwalin laughed, "Not if they want their faces attached." A servant came along with breakfast and they shared it in bed, arms wrapped around each other. "Now this is a happy ending," Nori said.

:'D !!! awwww! this is really really adorable!! OuQ 

"How is it that a woman should be so confident in battle but not in bed?" Dwalin chuckled. The mead from the feast was taking its toll along with the heady humor of sparring. "I simply have more experience in one," Nori relied dryly. "Though I expect you are well-versed in both?" Dwalin smiled at her, warm and loving. "Actually, no." Nori's eyes widened. Dwalin sat up to face her, "I am as untouched as the day I was born in that respect. Perhaps, when you feel comfortable we may learn together."

When the feast ended and the new prince and princess pair were free to go, Nori’s heart began to rush. She had always put off marrying for this very reason. Submission was not her forte, and that was the main expectation of a bride on her wedding night, was it not? Would Dwalin hurt her if she did not play the role? Would his bearish nature reveal itself? He was a conqueror—taking what he wanted was his nature. When they reached his room, Nori sent off a silent prayer for mercy.

"Are you alright?" Dwalin asked quietly. "You look pale. Is it too cold?" Nori shook her head quickly, sucking in a deep breath. His voice was so gentle it was shocking. His brow furrowed as he gazed down at her, his violent bride. She had been so quiet during dinner, he worried for her. Did she not understand his motives? Did she still suspect him or distrust him? They were wedded! What could he do? Dwalin sighed softly, "I won’t ask for anything not happily given, Princess. Please know that."

Nori stared at him in disbelief. Was Dwalin giving her an option? A choice? She blinked up at him, seeing the heart-clenching concern in his eyes. “I think I do,” she answered. A small smile crept up her face. “I’m afraid I’m not very knowledgable about the activities of wedding nights, but perhaps we could spar as we figure it out?” She offered slyly. He grinned. “I would not be opposed to that, my lady, but might we change first? That dress is far too tearable l to do