(no subject)

[goldtoes]

I'm still not sure this is a good idea. [ One of the House war strategists is talking as he leans over the map table, pinning areas of territory and marking out the border with their biggest stalemate, a point of contention with one of the only supply routes into the North. ] The other staff says the boy-king has been nothing but hell since he's arrived. [ Perrin pauses, punches another pin through the parchment. ] ... more than usual.

[ And he isn't wrong. They had come in early in the morning, just after dawn, in carts pulled by thick-coated draft horses; it's all unusual. The boy-king, Kyrnar, is seen by almost no-one even as he's stashed away like precious goods, tucked into his quarters with a pair of enormous kingsguard at the door who look like they could snap somebody's head off with a flick of their wrist.

There's something off about all of it.

Not least is the fact that he's on time for this meeting, which happens almost never; something smells off about him, too. The chilly smell of ice and omega sweetness has been replaced with something gentler - more a mark of motherhood than saccharine fertility. He slinks in, still so thin he might shatter (though Idris has never managed to break him, so there) as he gingerly takes his seat, white-blond and sharp-eyed and already agitated. He looks - unwell. A touch pale, cheeks flushed, seated uncomfortably as if he isn't sure how to.

It's warmer, down here, and though there's a pelt draped over his shoulders, the rest of his clothing is replaced with things more appropriate for summer. On his bone-thin frame, several months pregnant is enough to show, and out of protective instinct more than conscious decision, he drops one hand to cradle the curve of his round little belly as he leans forward to tap on the map with breakable fingers. ]

Quickly, then. I have no inclination to be down here longer than I must. Talk.

Comments

[gremyr]

You can't keep it. [ The line feels disturbingly wrong the instant it comes out of his mouth, making him cringe immediately. Something deep in his chest twists in a distressing manner at the concept of Kyrnar getting rid of it, and he frowns. ] No, I didn't mean that.

[ It's not that he doesn't want children. This is his entire biological purpose, to sire offspring, and he's done it! Without even specifically trying! It's breathtaking... People have been known to struggle for years for this specific moment.

That tiny thing in there, whatever it is- he made that. It's his. His heir, maybe? It can't die.

It's all so complicated, though. How is this supposed to work? The frown seems to be stuck on his face, and he's quiet again. For once, he's thankful for Kyr's enraging penchant for ignoring advice. ] Come here. [ Idris sits taller in his seat, extending an arm out towards Kyr. Reaching for him, beckoning him closer. ] I want- I need to look at you.

[goldtoes]

[ Kyr's jaw tightens in anger more than in upset - but then, too, this is how he operates. Explode rather than crumble, because fire is more poertful than the rain - and Idris backs down, so he softens. Slightly. ] No, you didn't, [ he agrees plainly.

Instinct cares little for politics, is the problem. Instinct doesn't care whether the border is contested, what level of scandal will come of the thoight that when the people thought they were discussing a treaty they were instead mating.

Even so, he stands and crosses the room into Idris' extended arm, five feet tall and frail with a fat little belly on him already. He's warmer, now, than before. ] And what are your thoughts on what you see, Your Grace?

[gremyr]

[ It's comical. Kyr is so delicate and birdlike, and already growing plump. Idris can't help making an amused sound, a quiet almost-laugh, as he grasps either of those thin wrists in his hands. Gently, he pulls, tugging Kyr in closer so he can look him over completely- although most of his focus soon settles on his middle. ]

I don't know yet. [ His chair makes an obnoxious sound as he scoots it back, making room between himself and the table so he can maneuver Kyr between. There's careful pulling and pushing, like he's trying to steer him in to perching on the edge of the table. ] Sit, please. [ Idris wants to examine, to feel; he wants to run his hands over his slim waist and the round curve of his stomach, make the idea real and concrete through touch. ]

[goldtoes]

Demanding, aren't we? [ But he smiles as he says it, amused as he brings himself closer. For all the mouth on him, he's comfortable in Idris' presence, lets him take his wrists and push and pull and manhandle him into place.

He places his palms at the edge of the table and hauls himself onto the edge, crinkling the map in the process, but it seems remarkably unimportant such that he doesn't even spare it a glance. He looks - it's surreal, the hellion child king mated and almost docile. Almost. ]

[gremyr]

[ Almost. Idris suspects the agreeable attitude is less from a sudden change in heart and more due to the satisfaction of being fawned over.

He can't bring himself to care, though. Now that he's gotten Kyr where he wants him, his hands roam. Smoothing along his small hips and thighs, up along his sides. He eventually gathers the nerve to caress a nervous hand over Kyr's belly, touching in careful, curious wonder. There really is a teensy being in there, growing without a care in the world...

Idris should be more firm in his questioning. Kyrnar could be lying- who's to say this isn't a trick of convenience? Get knocked up, blame it on your enemy, reap the benefits. It'd be a fitting strategy for this one. But even in his core, Idris doesn't believe that. The smell of him is too agreeable. Too right. He leans forward, resting his forehead against the fragile king's chest so he can breathe in a slow lungful of the new scent. Other pregnancies have historically had no effect on Idris. They all leave him indifferent, or even smell a bit too cloying in his opinion- this time it's different.

There's a long silence, and eventually he pulls himself back, pinning Kyrnar with a serious stare when he's ready to talk again. ] I want it. You can't take it back. I won't have it kept from me.

[ Well. So much for returning home and business running as usual. ]

[goldtoes]

[ Kyr sighs,  tipping his head and leaning back on his hands as Idris' hands roam bony hips, countable ribs and then, easy as anything, the warm roundness of pregnancy. He breathes slow and steady as he's fawned over, pleased and arrogany all at once.

He does appreciate the attention.

He has to laugh, though, suddenly - unoffended by the stern glare. ] I wasn't planning to keep it from you. I may be a rotten little thing, my darling, but I'm not a liar. And an omega shouldn't be tasked with bearing a child  on his own... nor should an alpha be denied his pup.

[gremyr]

[ What a pretty answer. Idris nods, satisfied. ] Good. You won't be alone. [ Rotten indeed, but Idris is grateful that he's not rotten enough to tease him with the news and then spirit the baby away. That would be cruel in the most unimaginable ways. ]

Stay until it comes, then... [ Then, well. Then he doesn't know. Then Kyr can return north, if he wants? Idris isn't exactly sure if that idea is appealing to either of them, but they can figure out an arrangement as they go along. For now, though, he gathers Kyr up in his arms and pulls him down, dragging him to lap-sit with him in the chair. ] I want you to be near, for now. It's mine, and I want to make sure it keeps safe. [ His voice is firm while he speaks, and without even noticing, he suddenly finds himself nuzzling his face against Kyr's narrow shoulders, his neck, his jaw. Scenting him possessively. ] As long as you've got one of mine growing in you, you belong to me too.

[ They can be smart about it in a while. Right now he just wants to make his claim clear. ]

[goldtoes]

And what of your people? How keen will they be on the idea of you keeping me so close?

[ Kyr settles in his lap, thoughtfully bringing one hand up to explore his - what? His companion? His mate? Does this mean they're bonded - he doesn't know, and there isn't anyone to ask. He's the last remaining in his line, after all, and has only guards and staff. No family, no friends - just his advisor, who Kyr doesn't like much in the first place and isn't especially kind to.

He supposes it can be figured out later. Another time.

For now, he lets both hands roam up Idris' chest, the sides of his neck to cradle his jaw, thumbs stroking the shells of his ears. ] And when the child arrives? You can't tell me you want no say in the raising of your own heir. I certainly won't just hand them over, either. And whose kingdom will they inherit? Mine, or yours? Then what?

[ Kyrnar hums, leans up and in and draws his king in for a kiss. ] Fine. Yours, then. [ For now. Unless... ]

[gremyr]

[ That's a good question... How will his people feel? Betrayed? Offended? How will Kyr's feel? Abandoned...? That aside, what will each of their advisors think? Idris suspects there will be more than one meltdown awaiting them. ]

Perhaps everyone will be glad that we've worked out our differences? [ Ha. Funny. Idris wears a hint of a smile after he says it. He breathes a contented sigh in to the incoming kiss, nipping briefly before their contact is broken.

Surely it's good news for everyone in the end. A child between them means more cooperation. Most definitely an end to the war... It's gone on for too long, and it makes no sense for them to continue the battle when there are young to raise. They can make this work. They can spin it in a positive light. Both sides may be furious or confused for a while, but peace and births always bring positivity.

Idris hums, thinking towards the future. ] We'll have another. [ Another. This one isn't even out yet! What an idiotic alpha brain. ] Then both can inherit.

[goldtoes]

Perhaps. [ Kyr huffs with laughter, boyish and genuine for once and not masked with harshness and aggression. Of course, it's all just defensiveness, in the end. He's been ruling alone since he was twelve - can he rightly be blamed for being sharp and sour, always?

And then more laughing, this time where he pulls away and buries his face against alpha shoulder, breathing him in. Kyr leans up, straddling his thighs, kissing him again. ] Greedy, [ he breathes it low and easy, smirk tugging st the corner of his mouth. ] And yet I almost suggested the same.

[gremyr]

[ Well, he can't argue against that... He definitely feels a little greedy. For more heirs and for more kisses. ] Shocking. You do have the ability to form decent ideas. [ He's teasing, of course. If he were truly annoyed it would be clearly evident in his voice, but there's nothing there aside from play and mischief. Idris presses forward, leaning Kyr back until he rests against the edge of the table. Naturally, one of his palms ends up protectively covering his bump of a stomach.

From there, he begins to mouth at Kyr's pale neck. ] Maybe we should plan for three or four to be safe. Some may not want to lead... [ He pauses, marking a small bloom of color in to the terror-king's flesh with a sharp nip. ] I think if I keep you full, you'll be less likely to cause trouble as well.

[goldtoes]

Hah. Now and again I manage - oh, [ Kyr sighs pleasantly as he lays back, closing his eyes and tilting his head aside to let teeth find purchase at his throat. He raises one eyebrow


Is it such a bad plan?

Why is he so keen on this idea, also, is the other question. Why does he feel hot and flustered, thinking about it, and why does he squirm under Idris' hands - stupid. ] Now you're getting terrible, wanting a whole pack out of me. And I expected you to be displeased, not eager to - what, keep me bearing your children for the rest of eternity? [ He huffs, amused. ] What does it say about me that I want you to?

[gremyr]

[ Not stupid at all. The poorly restrained squirms are delightful, and Idris encourages them by digging his way beneath fabric so he can make contact with the bare skin of Kyr's torso. ] What's terrible about that? You can do it, you're clearly fertile... Show all the others how it should be done. [ There's an odd undertone to his voice, something like a silky purr. Maybe he should be displeased by the twist their futures have taken. The circumstances are far from ideal, but the predicament only makes him crave more from the little king.

He's a fine fit, really. He may be slight, but he's strong willed and hardy, young and healthy and eager. Those are ideal characteristics, aren't they? What does it matter if it's a little politically messy? Strength in genes shouldn't be sacrificed for the sake of ease. ] You wanting it only says you're perfect. You've barely even started and you're already carrying beautifully. [ His voice is a muffled murmur against Kyr's skin as he continues to kiss and mark it, his hands splaying over either side of his chest, smothering nearly his entire ribcage. Idris' thumbs rest dangerously close to his nipples, which he takes advantage of- rubbing outlines around them with the pads of his fingers, teasing mercilessly before sweeping slow, direct contact over them. Kyr is early on, but he suspects they'll still be sensitive. ]

[goldtoes]

You think? [ Kyr arches beneath him, against him, pressing round belly to solid torso. This is the kind of thing that got them here in the first place, tangling up like this, delicate hands roaning all of Idris that he can reach, raking hands through his hair and over his shoulders. ]

It isn't such a bad idea. My line ends with me, and I ought to provide plenty of heirs to potentially take my place someday, no? [ He bites his lower lip and inhales sharply, eyes fluttering closed as the stiff buds of his nipples are stroked and teased to full attention - his chest is a touch more plump, or perhaps it just seems that way. It's hard to tell. His voice drops, lower, now. ] The fact that I have fallen in love with carrying your child is... an extra treat.

[gremyr]

I do think. [ He'd looked tired and a bit poorly earlier, but of course he did. This is something new. His body has never created an entirely new life before, it's learning how to handle itself. That aside, he'd traveled how far in his new condition? It's bound to be exhausting. But his reputation hadn't suffered. He's still overflowing with cheek and life- he's sure Kyr will progress just fine.

The rounded push against his front causes Idris to make a low sound in to Kyr's neck, his teeth sinking in for a claiming bite as his hips kick forward a bit, grinding where Kyr remains seated on his lap. ] See- [ Oh, that's awful. His voice is nearly ruined already. ] We're doing a good thing. Making your line flourish again... Wouldn't your family be proud?

[ They'd probably be shocked. Who would have thought, the dreadful child managing to find someone obsessed with mating with him. How in the world? ]

[goldtoes]

Mmh - [ Kyr makes a muffled sound, biting his lower lip, and something aches longingly in him as Idris snaps hips against him, rutting them together. ] Ah, my dear king, you're as filthy as I thought you were.

[ The wretched boy sounds positively delighted by the prospect of it, tangling his fingers in his enemy's - if he's that anymore, which Kyr suspects he isn't - hair, grin coiling around his voice like a snake. ] You make a convincing argument, Idris, darling, but how much of this is less about politics and more because you're eager to see me bearing your children, hmm? [ Coy, sly, and unquestionably confident - because it had gone so well the first time he arches again, rolling narrow hips and swollen belly into Idris more smoothly than he has any right to. ] Be honest.

[gremyr]

[ His laugh is quiet even after he detaches his teeth, his head tilting once Kyr's gotten a handful of dark hair. He waits until the grip is securely anchored before he leans in the opposite direction, just a bit. It's a silent encouragement, his entire posture practically demanding it- pull it. ]

Well, I do like to help... [ It's very unfair. The way he arches causes Idris to groan against his will, his skin undeniably flushed with arousal. He immediately reaches down to grasp those narrow hips, holding them steady as he shamelessly bucks in to him. He's officially lost too much power to this nightmarish little minx, and he can't bring himself to care.

Politics. What are politics? Kyr's line could be the most common in the world, and Idris wouldn't feel differently. He still needs him mercilessly bred. ] I also really like to see you well-fucked, so... [ So, make of that what you will.

His breath comes unevenly, warming Kyr's jawline while Idris begins quickly pulling ties and slipping buttons loose. Kyr is wearing far fewer layers than usual, and it's still too much. It all has to go. ]

[goldtoes]

Oh. aren't you selfless, [ Kyr drawls it on a way that is almost mocking, except it's different1, here - fondly sarcastic, a nip instead of biting words.] I'm sure it has nothing to do with me being both a fantastic lay and, also, temporarily quiet when you fuck me so hard I see stars.

[ But he is pretty like that. Tired, well-fucked, full of alpha seed and docile.

The last time they had met, the pure biological compatibility had taken over; Kyr, well into heat by the evening of their discussion, was much more amenable after he had been taken. There are hints of that sticky sweetness now, on his skin, as he tangles his hands in Idris' hair and pulls, coiling his fingers tight into it as layers are peeled away; the arousal is tangible, overwhelming, and stronger still the more clothing comes off, his underthings soaked through from omega slick and tiny, pink cock drooling sticky ropes of precum between slender thighs.

And he called Idris filthy. The nerve. ] Will you be so eager a season from now? Think about it, pinning me down on soft furs and pelts and taking what you want.

[gremyr]

Thank you for noticing. [ What a terrible grin that is. ] You're much more tolerable when you're quiet, yes. [ Well. Words-quiet, anyway. Idris would be devastated if he couldn't hear all of the sinful moans and gasps and whimpers that he knows are hidden somewhere in that mouth.

His eyes flutter closed, overwhelmed by the combination of the sting on his scalp and the heavy taste of arousal sticking inside his throat. A whole season from now has never felt so far away... Something in his voice comes across as a near whine. ] I'll be eager enough if you don't kill me before then. [ Idris feels like it's entirely possible- Kyr can absolutely destroy him with filth.

His head is full of wonderful pictures as his hands roam, and he startles when he feels the state of Kyr. His eyes open quickly, gaze dropping downwards. Mercy... this wet so soon? ] Do you see what you've done? [ Two fingers press together and slip between his cheeks, alternating between pushing forcefully against his hole and roughly rubbing the slick against it- he takes care never to breach him though, purely for the sake of driving him mad. ] You've completely soaked yourself. This is what happens when you think of me breeding you?

[goldtoes]

Mm, so I should get used to you trying to mount me for the rest of my pregnancy. I see.

[ But he hardly sounds offended by it. Rather he's almost drunk on the prospect of it, his voice low and husky as he tightens his hands again,  rocking his hips as hands roam his body and down between his cheeks to find the wet. It's  a good look on him, chest and belly plump, sharpness softened in both his voice and the angles of his frame. ]

Can you blame me? Gods above, this has been the last several months of my life and it's just getting worse. [ He pulls, hard, at the hair in his fists, grinding his hips against the fingers forcing their way agains, but not into, the tight pucker of his hole. ] You're giving me so much to think about, so it's your fault, really.

[gremyr]

[ Idris' only answer is a scratchy laugh, because, well. Probably accurate...

He's burning with the need to grab hold and dive in to him, but he doesn't. Yet. He sits back in his chair with an arm supporting around Kyr's waist, the other hand continuing to tease, only faltering when his hair feels like it's being torn out at the root. His body leans with the pull, an outright moan wrenching its way out of his throat before he gets his bearings again. ]

Is this your way of telling me you missed me? You need my help in getting you through it? [ What a little shit. He grins, pressing in with his fingers again- now they just barely dip inside him before slipping away, then repeat the process. They only stay for brief little visits, never long enough to provide any real relief. ]

[goldtoes]

That's exactly what it is. Smart man. [ Kyr huffs with laughter, cards his fingers through soft hair to soothe after his aggressive tug beforr he knots them back up into it again, nipping at his jaw with sharp little teeth.

Kyr moans a soft noise into his neck as fingers dip into him and back out again, enough to make him growl in almost annoyance. Almost. ] I did miss you. More than you have any right to do to me. Rotten.

[gremyr]

[ Isn't that cute, he's made an impression on the infamous king. ] Suppose this really does make you mine. [ Maybe it's just the temporary fog of hormones, but this feels easier. The little devil is so much more pleasant when he's squirming and slick in his lap. Why hadn't they come to middle ground sooner?

He hums pleasantly, rubbing the side of his face against ghost-white hair. ] You don't even need prepped, do you? [ He's still going to do it- of course he is, he isn't barbaric. As soon as he even says it, his fingers finally sink fully in to the wet heat above, stroking and stretching.

There was a time when seeing him hurt would have put Idris through no grief, but it's... different now? He'd rather protect than cause discomfort. Strange how things change. ]

[goldtoes]

You suppose. [ It would be taunting, in another space, but it isn't, somehow - it's teasing, certainly, but in a gentler way than it is when he's sharp and cold and... a bully. Kyrnar is a bully, in the end, with those narrow eyes and a sneer on his lips, boyish voice curled over with contempt in every word he says.

Until he isn't, of course. Until Idris gets him settled and slick and keening for more, safe enough in his lap that his bites turn to lazy laps of tongue against his throat. He's busy drawing up a mark on his mate's throat so he just hums his agreement, but - somehow, it catches him off guard and Kyr arches, gasps, stretches against him, fingers tight in his hair and face buried in his throat. ] Gods above, I missed that.

[gremyr]

[ It's strange to remember that this responsive, welcoming little body is usually so cold and harsh. It makes him feel like he's seeing a secret, and it's a secret that he greedily wants to keep for himself. ] Easy, dove. [ The arm around his waist gives a reassuring squeeze, his head lowering to tuck a few kisses in to snowy hair. ]

You haven't finished your mark yet. [ Teeth nip gently at the rim of his ear, his voice a pleasant taunt. He feels the ache already settling in to his neck, sure the spot will bruise. And he wants it to be seen. Just as he's claimed Kyr, he'll encourage him to claim in turn. ] Here, move with me while you finish that. Relax in to it. [ His wrist twists as his fingers rhythmically fuck in to him, a pale imitation of what's to come. ] I want you ready.