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[goldtoes]

[ The roads to the Edge of the World are terrifying in their own right. The paths are narrow and winding, nearly nauseating for those who are prone to illness in motion - the trip to get Kyr down south, carrying Idris' child, was a long one, with extended pauses in inns along the way to allow him to stop and rest. ]

Are you ready?

[ His head turns, all coy little dimpled grin and narrowed eyes, scheming and impish. Their cart, luxurious and warm, is pulled by a team of wooly oxen, plowing forward on small hooves into territory they know well, and Kyr stands without as much as a wobble, bracing himself on his father's walking stick - habit, with its sculpted handle, normally used to pluck himself through ice and snow and rock. ]

We're almost there.

[ His hair is braided in fine strands, woven in an expectation of royalty, and his narrow shoulders are draped in wool and hide and furs. He reaches for a trunk, flipping the latch. ] I have a gift for you. [ Kyr draws out a set for Idris - they match his own, in color and texture, wolves' furs across the shoulders and long woolen cape, silver clasps. ] They'll keep you warm. And this...

[ He draws out a second walking stick, with its sharp point - his own's handle is carved into the head of a doe. Idris' is a stag. ] Was also made for you.

Comments

agree from my spot on the living room couch

[goldtoes]

[ Kyr grins at him, finding a spot to plop down on the edge of the bed. ] It's not all rocks. I'll have you know there's at least one brooch over there that still has silt between the gem and the backing because I could never get it out. It gives it character, no?

[ Yes. But also, no, and why is royalty collecting garbage, anyway? ]

[gremyr]

[ That's the secret. Give Kyr rocks, get sticks in return. He understands the exchange process now. ]

Correction, then. Rocks and dirt. I can find plenty of that, you'll never fall out of love with me. [ That stupid grin. At least Kyr doesn't have to look at it, because Idris turns and browses, searching for the brooch being gossiped about. And when he finds it, or what he thinks may be it, he huffs a soft laugh.

His mate is a scavenger. What in the world.

He returns to Kyr, leaning down close to whisper like he's sharing some grand secret. ] I don't know if anyone has told you this yet, but royals are supposed to collect pretentious jewelry and dead animals. [ Idris may tease, but he finds this... charming? And inspiring. He already has ideas of things that Kyr may like, and though he's in no hurry to leave, he'll be excited when they return south and he can present Kyr with odd little gifts. ]

[goldtoes]

[ Rocks, sticks, trinkets. Like a little bird, collecting things that he thinks are nice. It's a product of so much time by himself as a child, tottering over river and cliff and boulder, wading through icy rivers even before Svanur was there to wander after him and make sure he didn't fall into them and drown.

Kyr laughs and steals a too-long, too-hungry kiss and then flops back onto the bed, and when he sprawls on his back, arms stretched above his head to stretch like a cat after their lengthy ride, the gentle hill of his belly makes itself known. An unfortunate result of size, mostly - as small and thin as he was, their little one sat low and forward, and it probably makes him look further along than he is. But he doesn't mind. ]

I'm not a very good royal, am I? I didn't even want this job! [ But he's grinning, still, eyes closed as he tips his head back. ] Should've been a rock collector.

[gremyr]

Then why are you marrying another royal?! [ He's going to be pulling double duty!

Well, not really. Idris has already vowed to take care of the dirty work- he simply likes to aggravate.

With the frail, familiar body stretched and splayed out before him, of course Idris can't resist bracing himself over it. He dips down to nestle a kiss in to the hollow of Kyr's throat, then strays south. He bumps and nuzzles his way down Kyr's torso, his hands leisurely wandering and kneading along at the same pace. ] I could make a law for you. Every citizen will have to treat you like a little dragon and offer you shiny stones. If you don't like the gift, then you may eat them. [ Good god. ]

[goldtoes]

Because, [ Kyr grins up at him, stretching underneath him, sighing a keening little noise into the touch; his toes curl into his boots, his back arches, and he shifts furs and wools out of the way of Idris' warmth. ] I happened to fall head over heels with one and I don't think I had much choice in the matter, my darling. You're just that incredible.

[ Sappy little goblin, sometimes. As cold and sharp-tongued as he'd been, he seemed to have been... tamed, somewhat. Still a menace, but controlled. ] Bring me a pretty rock or out of my throne room, is that it? I suppose I could designate a wing of the castle for them...

[gremyr]

[ Kyr seems restless with all of the material between them both. Of course Idris will help! He peels layers and layers of clothing open, to the side, up- never fully removing any, but absolutely shoving it out of the way of his hands and mouth.

He breathes a laugh against Kyr's no longer flat stomach. ] You might as well. There are rooms in mine that I never open, damned if I know what's in them anymore. Why not fill them with dragon hoard.

[ Idris grips Kyr behind both knees and pulls him across the bed to where he wants him- where his legs dangle off the side and his ass rests right over the edge. Naturally, Idris ends up kneeling on the floor directly in front of him, bumping his head against one of the skinny thighs affectionately. ] How rude would it be if we were to temporarily disappear? Rest in here for a while. [ Rest. Ha. ]

did u see my playlist

[goldtoes]

Probably quite rude, [ Kyr says it languidly, wrapping his legs around Idris, ] but you say that as if anyone expects anything else from me.

[ So he doesn't care, is what he means. He glances out the window near his head to gauge the time, able to do so by sun and wave and tide alone, and then he rumbles a quiet little laugh. ] We have time before the ships come in, and before dinner. I'm just saying.

i did!!! it was part of my chores jams today 💪😤 10/10

[gremyr]

Thank you for training others to have miserable expectations. [ It works in their favor! He gets to have Kyr all to himself for a while. He marvels for a moment at the sight of Kyr laid out with his head tipped back, examining the sea that he reminds Idris so much of.

Once it's confirmed that they have time, Idris smiles and, still on his knees before Kyr, begins to make quick work of every stitch of clothing covering him from the waist down. ] Good. The entire last half of this trip has been unbearable, you know why? [ Regardless of the answer, he's going to tell him anyway... ] I've been dying to get my mouth on you, and I've never been able. [ Whether due to the size of the cart, or not enough privacy, or the both of them simply being exhausted and tangling together in a rented bed for a few hours of heavy sleep.

The injustice. Nearly downright abuse, in his opinion. ]

[goldtoes]

[ Kyr still has his eyes closed when the horn sounds outside, his hair mussed terribly and his clothes thrown... wherever. That wasn't important. Obviously. ]

We're late, [ he sounds terrifically unconcerned about this as he rolls over to fold his arms on Idris' chest, placing his chin atop them and staring at him with wild, snowy eyes, a glitter of mischief and satisfaction. ] Not that much, though.

[gremyr]

[ The universe loves to deny Idris, just to watch him squirm.

The sound of the horn has him lifting his head quickly, squinting towards the window with a look of confusion... And then the word late makes him deflate. ] Already?! [ But they just... He didn't even get to...

He groans grumpily. He still wants to say Fuck It All and ignore the horn- if they're late then they're fucking late, who's going to argue with them? But he's been too well-trained. A bit of tardiness is forgivable, but there's not nearly enough time for Idris to do all he wants.

What is that look in Kyr's eyes? It's too playful. His own frown and stormy stare would likely cause worry for anyone else, but Kyr has surely been around him enough to know he's safe from Idris' moodswings and sulking. ] You aren't cute, you aren't funny, and you'd better not be enjoying this. [ In other words: he is cute and funny and yes, Idris knows he likely is enjoying this. ]