#gospace

“I've never played the fiddle,” murmured Goswin, nervous attention flicking to Pace's face.

Pace grinned just a little. “Gets easier with practice.”

A swallow had the dagger shaving a few low stray hairs of Pace's beard, just shy of cutting into his skin.

“Don't pull away.”

He anticipated Goswin's retraction before he could make it. The prince went wooden.

“You need to overcome that apprehension. Builds mettle.”

He pretended not to notice the stir below the prince's belt or his ungainly shuffle to cover it up. After a long and tense moment, Pace smiled.

“Good. Improving already.”

Goswin rubbed his lips anxiously against themselves. “Must we keep on with this?”

“‘Tis the only way to learn.” Strands of dark chestnut hair fell in Pace's eyes and he dared not move to brush them away. The steel stung cold on his throat, the ghost of it raising goosebumps on his skin. “Now, ain't such a bad posture, this, but you'd want to grab a foe as an anchor if you were attempting this move from the front. ‘Tis easier when you're at their back, since you're pulling instead of pushing.”

Goswin's pupils blew wide and moony. Pace gingerly reached up and guided the dagger away, Goswin's arm rigid but compliant in his grasp.

“You said you'd help me test it,” reminded Goswin, coy in tone and ruthless with his hands, trailing along the edge of the plate at the inner crease of the knight's thigh where naught but fabric separated his flesh from the world.

Pace sucked in a breath through his teeth and the chain rattled hard at his back.

“I didn't agree to be leashed and tied like a bloody bird-dog.”

“How else am I to know if the device is an effective restraint?”

“My lord.”

A warning. Goswin raised his eyebrows, feigning overplayed surprise. That only tightened Pace's jaw.

Goswin huffed a laugh through his nose and let his head drop to Pace's armored thigh, playing with the knot holding his codpiece in place, but not loosening it. His dark hair scrubbed against the smooth gleaming metal like feathers on stone. His lips were so close to the knight's codpiece his breath was fogging on the surface of it, obscuring his reflection.

“I reckon it deserves a good and honest trial, don't you? Only reasonable to test it out on a captive under duress.”

Goswin flicked dark eyes alight and crinkling with mischief to meet Pace's glower, indulging in the involuntarily twitch at the corner of his nostril. He wore the same face he donned on the tourney pitch as he was preparing to deal his opponent the final stroke. Still, though, as the chain chattered to confirm, stuck.

The prince's hand cupped Pace's codpiece, warm palm sticking to the slippery metal, and laid pressure on it at the knight's tenderest spot. Pace hissed and squeezed his eyes shut, a grunt catching in his throat.

“I swear, Goswin, when this is through, you'll wish you never had this menace of a thing made,” grumbled Pace.

A chuckle. “I very much doubt that.”

Goswin bent his head and kissed his cloudy reflection on the knight's codpiece, and Pace's hips snapped so suddenly it hurt his nose. Undeterred, Goswin grabbed at Pace's legs and pressed his lips harder to it, mouthing and lapping at it, feeling the metal grow hot against his face. When Pace let out a true moan, Goswin felt his insides flutter with satisfaction and returned the call with his own, groaning as he made out with the plate, his palette flooding with steel and oil.

“Hang me,” huffed Pace, losing his hard-drawn scowl to desperate lust more and more by the second. “What have I done to deserve your torment, you devil? Is dealing with you day-in and day-out not punishment enough?”

Goswin's toying hand strayed further between the knight's legs, below the shield of his codpiece to the veiled heat of his valley, and further to his ass—

Pace let out a yip of a noise Goswin had never heard him make before and suddenly the knight's boot was on his thigh, planted hard but not shoving.

“S-Sire—”

“Fight me off if you truly want to halt me,” murmured Goswin, nuzzling between Pace's legs and kissing, his spit glistening on the metal. “Kick me or crush me between your legs. Surely it wouldn't be difficult to force my yield.”

Pace was panting. “I don't want to have to hurt you.”

G: I can always trust you to defend me, Sir Pace. My most loyal, my most ruthless…

P: Goswin…

G: Hm?

P: I am not your dog. Tell me you know this.

G: Oh, vicious heart, are you not? You come to my beck. You guard my life with yours. You take every command like gospel, and you look at me with such unmatched devotion—

P: [GROWLS] Goswin—

G: Who am I to you, my knight? Remind me, lest we both forget. 

P: [HESITATES] My prince. My lord.

G: That’s right. And you are nothing if not devout, aren't you?

P: [DAZED] …Yes.

G: And you want to please your lord, do you not?

P: [BREATHIER] Yes. 

G: Down. 

[PACE KNEELS IMMEDIATELY, THEN EXHALES, TROUBLED BY HIS OWN EAGERNESS]

G: [TRIUMPHANT] Good boy. 

P: My lord… please. Tell me you understand. 

G: You’ve given me little reason to deny the truth, Pace. If you did not behave like a dog, perhaps things would be different. But you cannot deny your nature, can you? [SMIRKING] A tamed beast.

P: [INTENSE] I am sworn to you, my lord, but I serve also my god, and the code of chivalry, and the knighthood, and—

G: And yet, here you are, kneeling for me despite your injuries, puffing and ragged, seeking me like fucking communion. [STROKES PACE’S FACE] Tell me, is your god so generous with you as I am? So merciful? 

P: I—

G: And do you dedicate yourself nearly as much, nearly as eagerly in prayer as all those moments of worship you give to me, all those calls of your god’s name while offering your body to me? 

P: I fear you may be losing your head, my lord. 

G: [WILD CHUCKLE] All the times I should’ve had you in the stocks and let you in my bed instead… all of those times I invited you to such privilege, all the grace I bestowed upon you, all the forgiveness for your debasing, your disrespect, your-your gluttony… Did you confess them? Our days and nights spent closer than close? Have you begged your god’s forgiveness for losing your path? Or have you taken blessings knowing what stains, what messy artwork my hands have shaped upon you?

P: Prince Goswin, you are running mad with a sharp blade. Careful your recklessness does not see you impaled upon it—

G: [HARSHLY] One more profane word against me, knight, and I shall have a gallows crafted to your exact form. Heaven knows I know it well enough. 

P: [HEAVY BREATH] 

G: [CALMER, TOUCHING PACE’S NECK] Though… perhaps a collar would suit your neck better than a noose. You would wear it pretty, surely, though I hardly think it necessary. Everyone already knows you’re my hound, yourself included. 

P: [GRUNTING AND HUFFING] You may be my charge, but my duty sworn is to this kingdom, and to honour and goodness—

G: Pace. [PAUSE, THEN LAUGH] That’s what I thought. [KISS] You nearly killed a man for me today, all because he spoke ill of me. I have never been more proud of you. 

P: [BREATHY] You forget yourself, sire. 

G: As do you, it seems. 

P: This is not you. This bloodlust and blasphemy… something wicked has come over you. 

G: [HUMS] And what does it say of you that you’re so aroused by it as you are?

P: You’re mistaken.

G: The rush of blood through you right now says otherwise. 

P: [MUMBLE, LOST IN BREATH] There was plentiful excitement today. It lingers. 

G: Show me, my blade. Give it to me.

[KISSING, GRABBING, STUMBLING] 

[BED CREAKS, GRINDING, GOSWIN GIGGLES]

[BOTH MOANING, CLOTHES FUMBLING AND TEARING]

G: Ravenous thing—

P: Shut up and turn over. 

G: Now, is that any way to speak to your lord? 

P: Gosw—[CHOKES AND GAGS]

G: [HUMS, CHUCKLES] I see now why you’re always shoving your fingers in my mouth now. That’s fun. 

P: [PULLS BACK, COUGHS, GLOWERS] If you want me to show you my excitement, sire, it will not be tame.

G: Nor would I expect it to be. I know you well enough by now, Pace. I know how you fuck, and how you like to play with control. [RUNNING HIS HANDS THROUGH PACE’S HAIR] But remember who holds the real power here, hm? The only reason any of this happens is because I want it, because I allow you the privilege to take me as you do, and I could rescind that permission just as easily and leave you to suffer adrift and lonesome. 

P: I don’t think you could bear to do that. You’d be left lonesome too. 

G: I’m the prince, Pace. I could have anyone I wanted. Right now, I want you, and only you, and I will give you what you ache for, but only because I want it, too—not because you steal it or mine it from me, not because you wrest it from me, not because you hold the power here, not because you deserve any part of it. Only because I want you like this. I want you. Take that gift with grace. 

P: [DAZZLED] Yes, my prince. 

G: That’s a good boy.

[SHIFTING]

G: Kneel, Sir Knight.

P: [KNEELS]

G: Do you promise your service to this kingdom and take me as your prince?

P: Aye, my lord, I swear my body, blade, and life in service of thee and thine lands, for the protection and glory thereof, until death or my liege release me.

G: Rise, Sir Pace of Ellísion, arm of the royal guard and servant of Dulcedram, and step forth to take your pledge seal.

[RISING, STEPS FORWARD]

[NECKLACE BEING PLACED]

P: [WHISPERING CLOSE] And every moment we are in the public eye, I am yours to command. You have my very soul at your fingertips.

G: [GASPING, WHISPERING BACK] Pace…

P: I will kneel for you, kill for you, bleed for you. 

G: We can’t do this here…

P: Your word is the only thing I know. And at night, I'll bring you back to our bed and put you on your knees, teach you what prayer really is. Your body will be mine to worship. Every inch brought to pleasure until you're shaking beneath my hands, pleading with me. And once you've given me everything you have, I will smile and do it once more, until you are crying my name like it's your God's, like it's the only word you have left. This is my oath to you, my liege.

G: [SHUDDERING BREATH] 

[CROWD MURMURING]

THISTLE: [BELLS JINGLE] They certainly are taking their honey-sweet time up there.

NYMANDUS: Ja. Do you think they have forgotten the rest of us are here?

T: I doubt it. I think that’s part of it for them. 

N: Part of what?

T: Notice the quickened breath in the shoulders and the clouded look upon the face of our Prince Goswin. 

N: Scheiße. You do not think that they are—?

T: Playing hide the sword in their spare time? [LAUGH] Oh, I’d put money on it. 

N: I do not believe it. Sir Pace, he is… thorny. He would not. 

T: One letter too many there.

N: Wie bitte?

T: Three crowns says they are.

N: I am not a gambling man, Thistle. 

T: Alright. [JINGLE] Five crowns. 

N: [SHORT HESITATION] Ja, alright, okay. Only yes because I am confident that you are wrong. 

T: [GIGGLE] A confident knight is a powerful thing, Sir Nym. 

G: [ADDRESSING THE ROOM, FLUSTERED] Th-Thank you all for your attendance, friends and courtiers. Uh… you are all dismissed. 

[CROWD CHATTERING, WALKING]

N: He looks unwell. Perhaps a fever. 

T: [TICKLED] Aye, something like that, I’m sure.