A Fractured Kingdom (Fates.Gamble & Alexandra1405)

[Fates.Gamble]

Caius wasn’t entirely sure if Arielle would grant this request. He was asking a lot, he knew. He could see the indecision in her eyes even before her burst of foreign, yet clearly violent swearing, to which he said not a word.Her seemingly foul mouth wasn’t half as strange as the apparent connection she had with this… thing at her side. The more time Caius spent around the beast the less certain he was of that description. Animals just didn’t have the sort of look in their eyes that this thing did. Or maybe it was just the eerie way the two of them seemed to understand each other that set his skin crawling.

Whatever the reason behind it all, he didn’t care to know at present. All that mattered was ensuring the safety of the king; lest he be out of a job. And that would be the least of the problem then. If the South learned their sovereign was killed on a diplomatic mission to the north all well would break loose. It would make little difference if the tragedy was born of that sovereign’s own foolish decisions. Caius wondered if that reality is what spurred Arielle into climbing atop or ursine companion, or if he really had managed to pull at her conscience like he’d hoped. Regardless of her reasons, the Shield gave a nod to her terms, eyes gazing up at the mounted rebel. She made for a fearsome sight atop that monstrosity, drawing the attention of all around as the pair surged off into the whirling snows.

Let’s just hope that fool of a king keeps himself alive long enough for you to find anything at all, he grumbled to himself, wondering how in the world he was supposed to explain this to the men. After an encounter like that they were sure to be brimming with questions.

~

Hadrian was making good on Caius’ wish so far, though after the literal den of wolves he’d just stumbled into, he couldn’t say for how much longer.

“Just my fucking luck,” he breathed, just the slightest bit of panic in his voice.

Normally such a small pack of wolves would not be much cause for concern; Knox could outrun them under any other circumstances.But the icy tundra was their domain, and the white stallion beyond fatigued. Laboring through this snow was exhausting enough without the wind and ice battering the whole way. Hadrian was in much the same state, his limbs practically frozen and muscles stiff. Even with his gloves, he could scarcely feel his fingers as they clutched around his yew bow, hands shaking. He’d managed to knock and arrow, yet found he barely had the strength to draw back the bow string and take aim at the nearest canine. Knox, however, was just as anxious as he was tired.

The stallion clopped around on the ice, turning this way and that, refusing to let any of the predators out of his sight while they circled about. The movement ruined Hadrian’s shot before he could take it, and his screaming muscles could no longer keep the weapon drawn. One of the wolves only made matters worse by making a quick lunge to snap at the stallion’s leg. Knox wheeled around with a threatening whinny and reared without warning. Had he his usual strength, or at least a grip on the reins instead of on his bow, Hadrian would have managed to keep his balance. Weak and caught off guard as he was, however, he was tossed right out of the saddle instead.

Hadrian’s world became a daze as he collided with the solid ice of the lake, pain shooting through his back and his head ringing like a bell. For a mercy the ice did not give beneath him. It even held up to the impressive weight of the stallion, who’s hooves came crashing back down. The wolf was in an out before it found itself pinned beneath that crushing force, and Hadrian found himself scrabbling in suit, pushing himself up on his feet and dashing to the safety of more solid ground. The horse was kicking and bucking, and though the lake ice seemed firm enough, it would only withstand so much.

But Hadrian had little time to think about that. He was too busy pulling his senses together. He managed to keep bow and arrow in hand despite the fall, but the rest of his quiver was lashed to the saddle, meaning one shot was all that he would have. And he would need it before long. The flailing horse kept the wolves hesitant, but it wouldn’t be much longer before they bolted past the stallion and took down the easier target. Mustering his strength, Hadrian took his stance and lifted the bow. His arrow knocked, he took aim at the nearest member of the pack and prepared to draw, only to stop when he spied a ghost with flaming red hair break out of the trees and stride across the icy surface.

A shuddering breath broke past his lips, the air so frigid the mist even broke free of his face covering. It couldn’t be possible; it had to be a figment of his imagination. Had the cold finally driven him mad? It seemed more likely than the odds of his lost rebel wandering out of the brush just in time to put herself between death and the king. Quivering arms went slack, his bow lowering, arrow pointed at the frozen ground.

‘Don’t move’, she said; as if he could do anything but stand there like a slack jawed fool at finding her this way. Once he saw her ‘plan’ however, his brow knitted with confusion. Perhaps he was not the one who’d lost his senses after all. Just what the hell was she doing, kneeling down and practically offering herself to beasts?

Hadrian said not a word as she chastised him, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins. It made for an uncomfortable limo, his nerves on fire with instinct and excitement, yet his body too worn out to want to do much about it. What was he doing out here? What was he looking for? The better question was what in the name of the gods was she thinking? They were about to be torn to shreds, and all she could manage to do was kneel there scolding him? Ordered him not to leave the camp? Just who the hell did she think she was speaking to?

None of these thoughts were spoken, however, with bigger things to worry about; specifically three very hungry ones that had no intention of backing down. Arielle’s intentions, meanwhile, seemed to be to invite them closer. Hadrian watched, the emotions in his eyes dancing somewhere between fury and bewilderment when he watched Arielle slice into her own pale flesh. He’d be certain she lost her mind if the wolves hadn’t come to a dead stop. Doubtful eyes jumped between Arielle and the canines who stalked them. He didn’t know the words of her mother tongue, but whatever she said appeared to work; somehow. The wolves lost all interest, turning their backs on the three potential courses and returning to their first. Even Knox seemed calm after Arielle’s spell; for what else could he call it? Seeing such a thing first hand left Hadrian on edge; perhaps even more so than when he was about to be dinner.

The miracle, however, was easily forgotten, once Arielle turned to face him, looking every bit as ravenous as the wolves. His own scowl was concealed by his mask, though the fire in his eyes was unmistakable. That fire was quickly growing as she began to lay into him again, treating this whole situation like it was his fault; like he’d done something wrong in trying to feed his people after she abandoned them to hunger. His hands were shaking again, and this time not just from his weariness. Fingers were still clutched around the butt of his arrow, and they itched to draw it back. Exhausted or not, it would be nothing to raise his bow and put an end to her slow approach. So why didn’t he? Was he afraid if her heart stopped pumping that those wolves would forget all about the deer and skip right back to dessert? Or did something else stay his hand?

Whatever the reason, the weapon was still lowered by the time she came to stop, standing so close to him that Hadrian could feel the heat of her body cutting through the cold. Against his better judgement, Hadrian found his body craving that warmth, longing to close the gap. Harsh words and the memory off their last encounter, however, proved an impassable barrier. Instead of succumbing to the urge he was snarling like the wolves before him, little but rage left in his eyes by the time she finished speaking.

“How dare I?” He snapped, throwing his weapon to the ground with much more force than necessary at the way the cloth muddled his furious voice. He snatched the cloth down, heavy breath misting on the air at the freedom. “How dare I what, exactly?” he continued, unobstructed. “How dare I try and feed my people in their time of suffering? How dare I kill a doe to save them? How dare I walk alone in the land you think belongs to you? Do not speak to me as though I am some child who knows nothing off the North! How quickly you forget the true stewards of this land. The North belongs to the Alrdich line! To my blood, not yours! It was my birthright until your family stole it from me! The Kings of Eirlea were chosen by the gods to rule this land. In his arrogance your father robbed us of half our claim, and destroyed any semblance of the balance you preach of!”

His hypocrisy was showing, of course, for Hadrian couldn’t remember the last time one of his forefathers had taken the faith to heart. The Kings had no problem spouting the old testaments when it served them, but none of them truly believed that anymore. He was too blinded by fury to admit that, however. His anger was boiling hot, so much so that he was beginning to forget the cold. He’d pulled his hood down before he even realized it, ignoring the way the icy weather bit as his exposed ears and face.

“I wouldn’t even be out here if it wasn’t for you. All of this is on you! I told you we should wait for warmer weather; I warned you this would happen! Yet, you insisted it had to be now. You led us all to starvation, and then you left us! It’s no wonder my men tried to poison me. No doubt they see it as a mercy; as saving me from a hateful witch like you!”

Never mind the fact he’d just voiced his opinion on the true culprits behind the attempted regicide, Hadrian was just as pissed over being abandoned in this storm; a choice which had brought him nearly as close to death as that wine. It was a lucky thing he did not currently have sword in hand, as Arielle had come more than close enough for Hadrian to fulfill his ominous vow to Caius. Instead of being ran through, he lashed out with his arm, a gloved hand coming to snare Arielle by her throat. His fingers wrapped around the pale flesh, not quite tight enough to cut off her air, but enough to be painful.

“I think I’d rather deal with the wolves than you,” Hadrian sneered, eyes searching her face. “At least they’re simple. I know what they want from me.”

Hadrian could not say the same of Arielle, and truth be told he was not sure he would ever truly know. She was too great a tease to ever really trust her words, and, quite frankly, Hadrian was sick of being teased. Almost as sick as he was of this cold. All of it was just building into one great big frustration, and she was the only one around to take it out on.

“You really shouldn’t have come back,” he told her darkly.

Yet, the threat of violence quickly turned to something else while Hadrian stared into those furious, mismatched eyes. He saw their fire; their warmth… Warmth that he craved.
Once Hadrian finally did attack, it wasn’t quite what he intended. Instead of a blade it was his lips that came crashing down, suddenly pressing into hers before he even realized what he was doing. But once he felt the warmth of her mouth on his, it was like opening the floodgates. It was a tantalizing promise the rest of his body could not deny. His harsh grip fled her throat only to take one upon her hips instead. The remaining space between them was closed as he tugged her forward, pressing his body to hers in an effort to stave off the chill that surrounded them.

 

[MoldaviteGreen]

Arielle stood still within the raging storm that was Hadrian, his words toxic as they spilled from chill-chapped lips. She’d said her piece, scolded him like she would a misbehaving child, because he was exactly this in her mind. A man who saw the world for something that it wasn’t, the North a domain for him to conquer and have belong to him just like every inch of the Southern lands. “Had you have stayed put, you would have been sharing the stag I brought to your precious little camp that I’m sure your men have cooked and are currently enjoying.” Her quip was sharp, though she didn’t dare to insult his marksmanship, her hypocrisy of Hadrian’s attempt on the does life and her taking the stag’s clearly apparent.

Yet, he went on to talk of possession, of how her father had been the one to steal the North from his line, as if it ever belonged to the long line of regents. Had he forgotten his history lesson? Had the history of the North been so carelessly left out?

“That is where you are wrong,” Arielle snarled, a gust of icy air billowing about them, catching the hems of thick cloaks to whip them about legs as she inched a little closer to him in the snow. “The North belongs to no one. The North has no stewards. The North has never belonged to the Aldrich line, nor will it ever, and it most certainly doesn’t belong to a spoiled brat like you.” A cream hand shot out, capturing his shoulder in a hard shove as she advanced on him, raging. “The Kings of Eirlea were chosen by the gods for their modesty, not their need to possess and claim such as the likes of you and your father. The day your forefathers sought to own the North was the day this Kingdom was cleaved in half. My father didn’t begin the uprisings, they were stirring for years before. He simply saw a chance to make things right again, to make your father understand.”

Another hard shove at his shoulder, rougher this time.

“The North is not something that can be predicted. If I told you that, you would never have come. I would never have returned home. I would never have been reunited with.....my family. I would never have been able to show you why the North can never belong to anyone, the beauty of its wilderness.” Her words dripped with venom as she snarled them, those mismatched eyes burning so brightly they could have glowed. “I left you because if I had have stayed you would have done something you’d regret. You would have killed me.” Plain and simple. Arielle didn’t play with her words, cutting to the chase as she shared with him what she believed to be true; that if she had have remained any longer within that tent, that Hadrian would have ended her in the same manner that she’d observed him ending that cup bearer.

Hadrian always had a way with words and pretty insults, but Arielle had not expected the King to spew back the words of his men in her face. ‘A hateful witch like you’.

Arielle visibly recoiled, the insult striking deep enough that she took two steps backwards and grit her teeth. Now, Hadrian was doing the real damage. He knew where to hit her and where it would hurt, his aim being dead on. While the fire within her didn’t die, she stood there in silence as she held her wounded wrist to her chest, as if to keep it from view like it was only further proof of his insult. There would be no going back now, now that he’d said those words.

“I am not a witch.”

But her whispered attempt at clarification went ignored, Hadrian fuelled by such violent rage that words would have never been enough. Fuelled by his vicious desires, he caught the elegant length of her throat in a tight grasp, thumb and fingers wrapping around slender neck. Arielle didn’t try to pull him away, his clutch at her firm and uncomfortable but certainly not threatening. Urso, however, had other opinions.

The bear broke from the brush line, the snow crushed underfoot as he charged out from his blanket of shadows and onto the edge of the frozen lake. Urso roared with anger, furious that one such as Hadrian could handle his Arielle in such a manner. It was only a split second more before he drew pause, the redhead holding a hand up to the side in a gesture to motion that she was okay, for him to keep his distance.

If he sees no harm in hurting me, Urso, there would be no telling what he would do to you. Stay away. I’ll stay safe.

Urso roared, seeming to ignore Arielle’s advice, but didn’t approach further; an ominous presence from afar that came with the threat of brutal violence should Hadrian dare to harm her. Those golden eyes glowed with fury as he watched the pair, unsure of what the King would likely do next now that he had Arielle in such a hold; hot air huffing from his black nose in displeasure.

Plush, pink lips parted, a sharp breath of frigid air taken deep into lungs as Arielle prepared for a sharp retort, one that would reveal, once and for all, what is was that she truly sought from him. She was not, however, given the chance. Nose crashed into the side of her own, the cool tip of her nose pressed to his cheek as Hadrian claimed her mouth. Lips smashed together, the force behind them possessive almost, as the hand lingered upon throat for a second more before falling away to capture hip and draw her nearer. The steps she had taken away from him in offence, were quickly taken back, Arielle drawn close to him, lured by the sweet promise of what she had always wished from him. Passion.

Soft tiers smoothed over his own, the scorching tip of warm tongue slipping out from between pink lips, dragging lightly across the seam of his own; wetting them. The wounded hand found its way into his hair, the makeshift bandage falling away to reveal unmarred skin, something that was hidden now by dark, wild hair. Fingers threaded through this strands, clutching at them desperately as Arielle clung to him. Her other hand fisted in the lapel of his coat, yanking him closer until there stood no space between them. Hadrian very well may have been the attacker, but Arielle was certainly not playing the victim.

Knee slipped between his own, leg working its way between his thighs, the top of her own brushing against the weight of his crotch. The kiss which they shared was hungry, far from the sweet gentleness of the one she had imagined, but a kiss that was welcomed nonetheless. A tug on Hadrian’s dark hair gifted her enough room to steal breath and whisper her confession. “I never really left.” She’d tried, by the gods Arielle had tried, but she hadn’t been able to leave, drawn back each time to the camp that held Hadrian safe.

The knee that brushed the underside of his crotch gave an upward grind, smoothing a small portion of her lower thigh against the manhood within his trousers; a provocative manoeuvre that had only one intention. It ceased as quickly as it had begun, her leg falling away for foot to touch the snow momentarily before it picked up again and swung outwards. This time, knee bent and hooked over Hadrian’s hip—or what of it she could reach—the heel of her foot catching the backside of his thigh as she draped leg about him. With a tug, said foot drew his hips nearer, mashing the heat of her core against his own in a movement that was far from modest, let alone innocent. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps she shouldn’t have come back, but from the reaction she had been given now she knew this not to be true.

Liquid arousal pooled in the depths of her belly, a heat that warmed her skin to appear far less frozen. Cheeks were blushed, both from the chill of the frigid wind and the growing need for the man against her. How many nights had she dreamt of something such as this? How many hours had she lost because she couldn’t strip such vivid images running through her mind? The answer to both was far too many.

The hand in dark hair tugged firmly, not allowing him a moment’s breath except that which he could steal between kisses, the woman herself seeming to go without air. Tongue ventured across his lips, urging them to part so that warm muscle may slide against its masculine twin. The flesh of lower lip was suckled into her mouth, treated with a sharp nibble between teeth and a languid sweep of the underside of her tongue; a promise of what heat he may find within pink oral cavity should he go exploring with his member. A small, barely audible moan left her, escaping between plush lips as the fisted hand on his coat fought against the buttons; Arielle so consumed in her need to have him that thought of stripping him bare against the chill wasn’t considered. Not all were so seemingly unaffected by the harsh chill, and this she forget as head grew fuzzy with lust. For as much lust as there was, there was something undeniably deeper; a swirling passion that came from someone forlorn finally being gifted something they had pined for. The word that Urso had prevented her from saying would have gifted Hadrian power over her that she wasn’t sure she wanted to give to him just yet, not with him in such a violent state of mind.

Love.

Her steps forward against him did nothing but force him backwards and away from the frozen shoreline, the redhead guiding him up the snowy slope at a sure but steady pace. The tree line was her goal, to have wood to lean against as the brewing passion between them would, hopefully, spill over. For weeks they had been playing this game of cat and mouse, one always just a single step ahead before the other would rush to catch up and outdo the first. There was only so much pressure a stewing pot could handle, before it blew its lid.

A nip of his lower lip was rough enough to split supple skin, Arielle suckling the bead of royal blood into her mouth to dance across swirling tongue. Just a single taste of him was not enough to quell her urge, Arielle’s hands becoming feisty in their need to remove clothes. Even if he refused her attempts to undress him, she’d still have him; the pair to be only half-clothed and swaddled by cloaks as their lower bodies met in final unison.

It was then, at this moment, that Hadrian’s back would have collided with the trunk of a pine, light droplets of snow falling about them just as her hand released his coat and dipped between their grinding hips to fight with the buckle of his belt. Mismatched eyes glimmered as she stole her mouth away, red hair tossed over her shoulder with a shake of her head before face dipped into the corner of neck and shoulder. Searing kisses were pressed to chilled skin, the heat of her mouth only warm in comparison to the flat of the tongue that soon dragged along the side of his neck upwards to the angle of his jaw; leaving behind searing saliva in its wake. The corner of her mouth tugged upwards in a wicked smirk as buckle came undone and the soft lobe of his ear was caught between lips and suckled; released soon with a snap as she purred into his ear, “If you wish to have my head, the least you can do is gift a woman her dying wish and fuck me.”

 

[Fates.Gamble]

A giant, painted bear breaking out of the woods was a startle to Hadrian, to say the least. Yet his tolerance for the impossible where Arielle was concerned was quickly building. She could apparently talk to wolves and horses, so sure; why not a fucking grizzly bear as well? At least that’s what he told himself in the moment, while he was too worn out and worked up to argue over the peculiarity of it all. And besides, none of it seemed to exist anymore once they’d fallen victim to their passion. His sudden kiss was practically born out of the insanity of it all, yet once they were in the midst of it Hadrian was single minded, a man starved for the warmth and succor that only she could provide him.

It was almost criminal the way Arielle tugged Hadrian away, forcefully breaking their kiss long enough to make her confession. He should have known she hadn’t truly ran; that she’d only been hiding from him. Apparently 20 or more years hadn’t changed them much at all. She’d tempted him with another game of hide and seek, and he’d neglected to come looking. Perhaps if he had, their reconciliation could have taken place near the flames of a hearth instead of this sheer cold. With Arielle attacking him right back, however, the heat building between them would chase away the frigidness before long.

Hadrian sucked in a breath as Arielle attacked right back, teasing at him with her knee. His own arousal was undeniable, Arielle finding him well at attention even through the thick layers of his clothing. After all the build up between them the thought alone was enough to excite him. He was like solid marble by the time her leg slipped away to hook around him instead, drawing him in and tantalizing him with the promise of what he could have if there weren’t so many layers around them; necessary layers. Though the tall reaching trees gave them more shelter than the open tundra, it was still cold enough to freeze a man to death. But how could he think about that right now?

He was already tearing out of his first layers, warm, leather gloves hastily removed and thrown to the ice out of the desire to feel her with his bare hands. Free of their prisons, they roamed her body ravenously, one cupping the meaty globe of her ass to pull her even closer, the heat of her core drawing a sultry note of longing from his lips. Heady eyes drunk on lust watched her with impatience, Hadrian able to do little else with the way she held him. Another stolen kiss was enough to pacify him for now, though, lips parting at her invitation with his tongue eagerly seeking her own. The attention she gave to the pulp of his lower lip was met with a soft moan at first, until the predator in her came out with a painful sting.

Hadrian drew bark with a surprised breath, his own pink tongue coming out to lap at the small wound left in her excitement. His eyes darkened with amusement, bruised lips grinning at her mischief, which was punished by a sharp slap to her ass by the hand resting there. Strong fingers squeezed even tighter once he dove in for another kiss, his free hand coming up to join Arielle’s in the attempt of ridding himself of this damnable coat. Just like her, his lust had thrown all thought of self preservation out of the window. Undressing proved to become an awkward, rushed task, however, especially once Arielle began backing him up the snowy incline…

Still, somehow they’d managed to free all the buttons, his coat splitting open to reveal the layers below by the time his back collided with the rough bark of a pine tree. The icy now that showered down on them was a bitter reminder of the cold, but he ignored it, fumbling hands having already moved on to Arielle’s clothing even as hers fell to his waist. Hadrian had denied himself this too many times already, and with all of his logical senses depleted by cold, hunger, and desire, there was nothing left to hold him back. No royal guards of pompous lords around to know. For the first time they were truly hidden away from all the distraction and complications. There was only the two of them, now, nothing but the wild energies of nature surrounding them.

Seafoam eyes cracked open as she backed away, meeting the glimmer of her own and wondering at her next move. They drifted right back closed, however, once she dipped into the crook of neck and shoulder to pepper his flush skin with kisses, and the feel of her mischievous tongue, the wet muscle leaving a hot trail across his neck; a trail that ended just as the last true obstacle keeping her from what she wanted came undone in her hands. His own attempts at undressing her were becoming sluggish thanks to the distraction of it all, Hadrian scarcely able to think of his own tasks with the way Arielle kept working him up. It seemed she had no intentions of letting him over-think things this time; she was going to have what she wanted, apparently even if she had to die to get it.

“I’m starting to think you’ll have my head if I don’t,” Hadrian said right back, practically shivering at the way Arielle continued to tease his skin with her mouth. After a statement like the one she made, however, he was practically throbbing with desire. He yanked himself away from those tantalizing lips, regaining his focus in an effort to relieve her of her clothing. The furs of her cloak were done away with, dropped to a pool in the snow behind her, forgotten as Hadrian worked to remove what was beneath next. Hadrian didn’t stop until the creamy skin of her torso was revealed in its entirety, her shirt thrown aside to join the cloak on the ground. As soon as her pale flesh was on display it was was worshiped with attention, Hadrian coming in to shower her neck and shoulder with kisses and nips, much the way she had.

Meanwhile his hands explored the smooth planes of her body, splayed fingers tips gliding up her curvaceous form, eventually working their way inwards, between their bodies to take hold of plump breasts. Strong hands brought them together in a playful squeeze, fingers and palms teasing over her pert nipples. Hadrian’s kisses drifted south, wet tongue peeking out as he passed her clavicle and arrived at the bounty of her cleavage. Hadrian practically buried his face into her bust, relishing in the warmth and softness while peppering her chest with kisses. His hands however, had fallen away, moving down to work on removing the cotton pants she wore. She had made a dying wish, after all, and what sort of man would Hadrian be if he were to deny it?

The king’s urgency seemed to have return, head popping back up to catch her in another fiery kiss. It was hungry and deep, but only last long enough for him to shrug the hem of her trousers down the flare of her hips, along with anything else she might have been wearing. Once they were down and out of the way Hadrian left it to Arielle to decide whether or not she preferred to step out of them. Regardless, she didn’t have long to choose. Hadrian would only wait long enough to unfasten his own trousers, tugging them own and letting them drop to his boots to reveal the lengthy girth of his manhood. His fire came to life then, and he grabbed Arielle by the arm, interrupting her from whatever she might be doing in the moment and twisting her around.

Once her back was to him, Hadrian kept Arielle firmly in place, her arm held behind her, still in his unbreakable grip. His other hand took her by the left hip, pulling her back until the hard length of his member was pressing into the bare cushion of her ass. His hand left her then, wrapping around the girth of his cock to guide it while adjusting his body. Down he went, coaxing Arielle to bend until the round head of his manhood was pressing against the slick entrance of her womanhood. A shiver of delight ran across his skin as he moved his cock, gliding up and down her wet slit until it parted in sweet welcome. Once it had he pressed forward, his hand retreating as the tip of his hard cock broke through the gates and steadily entered heaven.

A throaty moan shuddered past Hadrian’s lips as he penetrated her, Arielle’s slick channel swallowing him up inch by inch. For a moment all he could do was succumb to the wondrous sensation of it, hips giving a lazy roll as he worked himself in deeper. After a moment, however, Hadrian reached out, snaring Arielle’s free arm and pulling it back to join its twin in his hold. And that’s when Hadrian truly began to fulfill her wish, drawing himself back to the very tip before slamming himself home, plunging to the very depths of her core until hips collided with the round cushion of her ass, only to bounce back and do it all over again. He’d found a steady rhythm before long, the tempo of their joining bodies a lewd symphony even against the howling wind.

Even lost in the moment, Hadrian was aware of how bizarre this was. Here they were, fucking in a blizzard with a pack of wolves tearing into their dinner a short ways away. And even nearer than the wolves was the monstrous bear, black eyes drinking in the scene instead of mauling them. And yet, somehow, it all felt so natural… Connected, even. It was almost as though Ari was the wild personified; as though their first time could never have taken place anywhere but within the bosom of nature and all its splendor. It felt like they were a part of it,, Hadrian another beast among many as he threw back his head and moaned loudly with his pleasure.

After a time Hadrian released Arielle’s arms, giving her a little more freedom to move, though Hadrian’s roaming hands made it hard to do much besides arch back into him, as one traveled up her flat stomach to take a bouncing breast in hand while the other snaked down between her legs to her wet core, rough fingers seeking out her clit to circle and tease the sensitive nub even as he ravaged her from behind. Perhaps it was a mistake, turning to their passion in the midst of all the anger and xenophobia. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew all that would remain even after this encounter; pacified, perhaps, but not truly resolved. But for just once in his life, Hadrian managed to put all of the concerns aside, and simply enjoy her to the fullest.

 

[MoldaviteGreen]

The soft shiver that ran the length of her spine earned a wicked grin against the crook of his neck, Hadrian’s skin gifted the scorching heat of an exhaled breath between parted lips that lingered against the angle of his jaw. Keeping herself pressed to him, Arielle’s hands wandered with purpose; cream fingers dutifully working the button of his trousers undone as she rolled hips against his own to create some semblance of space. “Mmm,” she purred against the corner of his jaw, abandoning the soft lobe of his ear for the angle of sharp jawline, tongue teasingly running its length just as she had done his throat. “Unlike you, I like this head a little too much to detach it from its body.”

A wisp of copper hair licked at his cheek, caught in the gentle, frigid breeze. The couple were in a bubble of warmth, the heat from their own passion keeping chilled wind at bay. There would be no frost bitten fingers, as they sought warmth against cream skin. The fall of her cloak from narrow shoulders was barely noticed, the weight suddenly absent as the thick article dropped to pool in the snow about their feet; the perfect blanket if Hadrian wished for a more traditional position. But, there was nothing truly traditional about Hadrian, nor in the way that large hands brushed aside her clothes as if they were nothing. Coat came next, a button coming loose with the force of a tug, before it and then simple cotton shirt beneath fell to the white powder underfoot.

He was rough in his movements, but Hadrian was just as equally precise; tossing aside her clothes as if they offended him until she stood bare-chested before him, with little space between them. It would come as no surprise that Arielle forwent the traditional binding of the breasts with cotton to keep them in place, Hadrian becoming aware of such a lack of article when she’d stripped slowly before him at the lake’s shoreline. Instead, the heavy orbs of cream tissue fell in a bounce as shirt was done away with, perky and full enough that supple flesh would spill between fingers as Hadrian battled to capture them within palm. Hardened nipples were the same blush rose of her lips, erect from the chill of the air about them and the burning desire she held for Hadrian. Narrow shoulders were pressed backwards, confident in her stance as her own fingers fought against the buttons of his shirt, undoing enough to be able to press small palm against the space above his heart and splay cream fingers.

How cruel it was for it to be so easy to do away with their clothes, when there had been so many barriers between them—barriers that likely still existed but had simply become ignored.

Hadrian spared not time to simply admire the view of her, too overcome with the lust that burned brightly in his eyes that he needed to possess. Chin lifted as he dove towards her throat, a breath sucked between parted lips in a soft gasp before it was held, Hadrian’s heated lips pressing to the side of her throat. It electrified her, the redhead rebel dissolving into a trembling woman in his arms as she shivered against him. The juncture between throat and shoulder had always been her weak spot, a place that could turn a strong-headed woman into a submissive lover when treated particularly well. Hadrian’s attention at precisely this point had mismatched eyes slipping closed, neck craning to expose vulnerable throat to him, the hand upon his chest slipping to clutch at his flank to draw him hungrily closer. The flesh caught between teeth in a playful nip had Arielle whimpering into his ear; the soft sound escaping her.

“Jainkoak, salbatu nazazu.”
Gods, save me.

The hands that ravaged her had become calloused in their travels, skin becoming somewhat leathery across fingertips from perpetual hold upon reins and exposure to harsh chill. They were not, however, unpleasantly rough as they splayed over her chest, the orbs of her breasts captured in his eager grasp as they were playfully squeezed together. A rush of liquid heat pooled in the depths of her belly, joining the swirling arousal that had come as the first wave. Blush bloomed across her cheeks, Arielle become light-headed with wanton desire as she clung to him, back arching to press supple flesh against wide palms, demanding more touch and more attention. Nothing would ever be enough, there was no such thing when it came to Hadrian. He was a drug that Arielle was sure she’d never wish to be clean of.

The hungry kiss that captured her lips left her breathless, Arielle’s hands abandoning their posts at his chest and trousers to thread fingers through dark locks. She didn’t want this to break, didn’t want lips to be parted from his again, and the way in which she drunk in the kiss was clear that he’d have to pull away with some effort to be free of her. Hadrian had started this. He’d been the first to clutch at her, claim her mouth, and dissolve whatever it was that had been standing between them. The trousers that hung loose about her knees now were momentarily forgotten, Arielle desperate to have and to taste him that her fingers remained within wild hair. It wasn’t until she needed to come up for ragged breath that she finally dipped low and shoved trousers further along cream, sculpted legs, stepping out and kicking them aside.

Arielle stood completely naked against the chill of the North, a vision of cream and copper.

Shorter than him as she was, Arielle’s lips did not struggle to find the sweeps of bare collarbones, his shirt left open to expose sculpted chest to her; lean with muscle that hadn’t truly seen violence. Kisses, nibbles and playful licks swept over the angular bones, the cool tip of her nose brushing against the base of his neck as Hadrian saw to removing his own trousers, Arielle too enamoured by the body exposed to her to even think to offer help. She was drawn from her haze soon enough, however, as a meaty slap struck against the smooth plane of her stomach, the lengthy girth of Hadrian’s manhood striking her as it finally sprung free from trousers.

Catching her off guard, Arielle grew eerily still, her hands slipping to smooth against pectorals as she pressed forehead to the nape between collarbones, her gaze drawn downwards by the hardened flesh that pulsed gently between them. It was everything she had imagined, and then some; rigid, up-curved, thick. Cream fingers clawed at his chest, Arielle pressing hips forward to capture his length between them before she raised face to look up at him; those bi-coloured eyes swirling with devilish mischief and burning need. Lips parted, breath was taken, Arielle about to purr something sweetly to him; but the chance was stolen from her as Hadrian captured her arm.

Arielle was spun in place, elbow bent and forearm held firmly against the small of her back, spine curved to press hips back towards him. The bark of the tree bit at her front, chest pressing to wood as she held herself at a sharp angle; legs remaining parallel to his own, though feet enticingly parted, but her body arched in a curve against the tree. The side of her face was pressed to biting bark, Arielle undeterred by the rough texture against the smooth of her cheek, as she grinned wickedly back at him from over her shoulder. The way he had her, pressed between the tree and his hips, created a shallow valley across the length of her spine, the gold tattoo running its entirety from base of skull and coccyx. Bronze freckles decorated her skin, caramel in some places and almost metallic in others. There didn’t seem to be an inch of Arielle that was not decorated brightly, visible now more so than it had been under the darkness at the lake.

Pink tongue slipped between lips, wetting plump tiers as it remained captured there, just the tip peeking out at him as she smirked. Eyes shone with desire and lust, though there was something unmistakeably tender swirling within. Free hand caught the trunk she was pressed against, fingers splayed over the wood as she pushed against it firmly to jolt hips back against him. Blunt fingernails clawed at bark, Arielle revelling in how skin tingled both with welcomed chill and the electrifying need to be filled by Hadrian. They were close now, oh so close, and she’d surely lose her temper should he dare back out now.

The way she was, there wasn’t a single inch of her hidden from Hadrian, besides the heavy orbs of her breasts that swung forward beneath her. The round of her ass parted ever so slightly with the angle of her tilted hips, revealing the plump pink lips of her core pressed smoothly together. They shimmered with liquid arousal, smeared across even the insides of her thighs. The blush rose pink of those plump lips parted easily as they were pried apart by the press of his cock, Arielle’s tongue slipping back into mouth before the pulp of lower lip was caught between teeth and bit harshly. There was no denying that she wanted him; even if she hadn’t made so many claims about her desire to have him, her body gave her away. The sweet ambrosia that coated plump lips was a welcoming slick, Hadrian needing little effort to slip plush head of his manhood within the heat of her channel.

“Oh, fuck!”

Arielle’s loud cry came at Hadrian’s sudden entry, the velvet of her core so eagerly taking him inside that she shivered violently against the tree. Eyes didn’t dare leave his face, Arielle stubborn in her need to watch him as her core took him to the hilt. The lazy roll of his hips had hardened flesh striking deep within her belly, Arielle’s toes curling into the snow as her breath hitched. Soon enough, Hadrian was hilted within her, held so firmly by her core that she’d surely feel like a velvet glove fitted for him, and him alone. It pulsed, muscles clenching down upon him as Arielle shivered again, her breaths short and ragged with deep arousal.

The capture of her free arm was unexpected, Arielle growling under her breath at the sudden restriction, Hadrian taking all control from the woman he had impaled upon him so deeply. Back arched more sharply, heavy breasts peeling away from the dark wood of the tree she’d pressed against for balance, her spine contracting as she rose a little straighter now. Hadrian was wicked in his assault on her, drawing out until just plush tip remained within, earning a low, desperate whimper from her. Arielle struggled against his hands, wanting to be free of his grip, to be able to grab his hips and draw him back within her. Being filled by Hadrian, stuffed to the brim, was something that made her light-headed and near-euphoric.

“Hadrian....” she moaned his name, unashamed, head tilting back to fall against his shoulder, turned slightly into his neck as mismatched eyes watched his face; her own contorted with primal pleasure.

But Hadrian was not still for long.

The echo of supple flesh striking against hardened muscle was shrill against the raging storm across the tundra, the couple sheltered from the blizzard by the trees surrounding their union. Round orbs of her ass juggled with the strike, rippling as Hadrian worked Arielle upon his shaft. As cold and as rigid a leader as she was, there was nothing hard about her now; heavy tits bouncing with the force of Hadrian’s rapid thrusts, rising to collarbones and falling the smack against lower ribs in a rough, exotic display.

Arielle was far from silent and prude, arching her back so sharply to tilt hips, slick channel clenching tightly down upon him as it angled in such a way that Hadrian was drawn across the rough texture of her front wall upon each invasion. She moaned in his ear, breathless, tongue sweeping out to lick across lips that remained parted. Her toes curled to such an extent they began to cramp, but the pain went ignored as Hadrian treated her to what she had desired longer than the few weeks they had been reunited.

As he tilted his head back, exposing the underside of his chin to her as he moaned loudly, Arielle seized the opportunity and showered the length of his jawline in a flurry of kisses. None of them lingered, quick in succession, as if Arielle was afraid she wouldn’t get such a chance again. Neck craned, Arielle burying her face into the side of Hadrian’s neck as she gunned low in her throat, the not almost musical in nature. He was working her so well, handling her roughly enough that it set her skin alight, that she was already so close to climax.

The release of her hands only added fuel to the fire, an arm rising to bend as fingers curled into his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp as she clung to him. The other wasn’t nearly as gentle, clawing at his hip and the tense muscle of his backside as he drove hungrily into her; pummelling her insides like he hadn’t fucked in months. But it was the dip of his fingers that was her undoing, those calloused pads slipping between the plush lips parted by the girth of his cock, toying cruelly with the sensitive nub at their apex. Her slick had smeared almost everywhere, across the insides of her thighs, the underside of her ass, even the tops of Hadrian’s thighs and the base of his manhood shimmered with Arielle’s liquid arousal; scented sweetly like cinnamon and honey. Her body jerked at his direct touch, earning him a gasp, as her hips rolled back to meet his thrust; Arielle wilfully impaling herself down upon him.

All it would take was three sweeps of his fingers, the nub rolling beneath their calloused pads, for Arielle to be shoved so close to the edge that she teetered. Cheeks were rose pink, eyes shimmering brightly, her lips parted as her breaths came in quick succession. It wouldn’t have been hard to read her, for Hadrian to know how close he had edged her towards the final fall so easily and so quickly; her body having been so desperate to have him that the act itself was all that was required to finally push her over the edge. The hand in his hair clenched tighter, copper brows knitting together in a small, delicate frown as she whimpered; “Hadrian......I’m.....I can’t, not yet.....not without you.”

Together.

Arielle wished them to find euphoria together.

She tugged at his head, encouraging his face down towards hers as she pressed lips firmly to his own. This kiss, however, was far from ravenous and desperate, instead a gentle sweep of plush tiers across his own as she claimed his mouth to be hers. Her core clenched down upon him, so tightly that Hadrian would be forced to fight against it to continue his deep thrusts within her, the velvety walls gripping at him selfishly as they, too, begged for him to rush to meet her at orgasm’s edge.

And for the first time in their history, Arielle begged; “Please.”

 

[Fates.Gamble]

Hadrian hadn’t given much time to admire the curvaceous form of Arielle’s body, but he was sure as hell favoring it now. Hungry, green eyes roamed her body, watching the way it rippled against the force of his thrusts. Fucking her from behind as he was, it was the beautiful, yet heartbreaking tapestry of her back which was easiest to drink in. His gaze followed the soft-gold contours of her tattoo and the silvery scars that framed it. But, much like the mystique of her dual eyes, one could not help but be drawn to her most brutal of old injuries. Not for the first time, Hadrian found himself wondered at the fiend that savaged her, but he was enjoying himself a little too much to delve into the curiosity of how she’d gotten it. It was was put out of mind all together once his hands were busy roaming the rest of her gorgeous, unmarred physique.

Heavy boots parted the snows, Hadrian’s stance widening in an effort to plunge himself ever further into Arielle’s greedy depths. His legs were feeling a bit like jelly, wracked with pleasure and fatigue as he was, though you’d never guess the latter from his energetic thrusts. Hadrian fucked her like a man possessed, as though the rest of the world did not exist around them. For all he knew, it didn’t. The woods could be set ablaze around them and he likely wouldn’t even notice. How could he think of anything but the way her wet channel pulsed around him, swallowing up his throbbing length with lusty avarice? Arielle’d managed to consume him in body and mind, driving him wild with the way her slick walls squeezed around him, clinging to his hard cock as though she never wanted to be rid of it again.

Arielle was every bit as much fun as he could have imagined, her unashamed cries of pleasure fueling his desire all the more. A man couldn’t ask for sweeter encouragement than the way she leaned back, pressing a scorching body against Hadrian’s and moaning in his ear. The sensual harmony was enough to send tingles across his skin, and he forced to join her in chorus, deep, throaty moans and shuddering breath drawn from her royal lover. Arielle had no intentions on letting up either, it seemed, striking like an opportunistic hunter and peppering his jawline with warm lips the moment he fell victim to his pleasures. Soft, green eyes fell closed while Hadrian focused on the favorable sensations, reveling in Arielle’s exquisite reception of him.

“Mmm…” Hadrian mumbled with approval, the tempo of his hips slowing a fraction amid the soft treatment. Reckless abandon turned to deep, purposeful thrusts once Arielle employed her newly freed hand, her slender fingers gliding across his scalp. Her other hand clutched at him much more hungrily; possessively, even, clawing at hard muscle as if he could never be close enough for satisfaction. Hadrian could share in the sentiment, his slower pace only lasting so long before her took Arielle by the hips and drove himself into her with all of the intensity from before. After all the teasing and denial between them it wasn’t long before Hadrian felt pressure building in his loins, filling him with liquid heat. All that pent up frustration was begging for a long overdo release, and Arielle’s ribbed, soft as velvet slit was all too willing to oblige. Her slick walls grew all the more snug as her own pleasure built. By the time his hands joined in the fun they were practically quivering, Arielle finally reduced to the hot mess she promised him the moment his calloused fingertips swiped across her sensitive clit.

A sultry grin swept Hadrian’s face at her reaction, his hard cock pulsing excitedly against the wet muscles that clung to it. Arielle was getting so close that her sweet pussy held him like a vice, yet Hadrian didn’t miss a beat, effortlessly remaining in the clutches of her heavenly grip. Gleaming, seaform eyes watched her flushed expression as he continued to fuck her, taking pride in the way her face twisted with her delight. Seeing the effect he had on her was one hell of a turn on, and if he had it his way, Hadrian might have ignored his own needs for release to focus entirely on seeing her over that edge. Instead, he found her pleading for him to join her in the free fall, and the stifling request alone was nearly enough to see him cumming inside of her then and there. He probably would have if she had not seized his head and drawn him down into the distraction of a loving kiss.

His lips melted into the plush tiers of her own, kissing her back softly, though it was broken soon after, Hadrian’s breath hitched with pleasure. In its wake came a word he never expected to hear spilling from Arielle’s lips; at least not with such sincerity. Hadrian didn’t dare to look away from her after that, burning green eyes keeping the attention of her mismatched gaze. And that’s when it dawned on him just how surreal this all was. This was the woman who’d spent the better part of her years working to overthrow him; a woman feared by one half of Eirlea and revered by the other. And yet here she stood as vulnerable as a woman could ever be, reduced to a trembling, begging mess entirely at his mercy.

“Oohh, fuuuck…” Hadrian moaned out heavily, marble length twitching as he found himself spurred on by the thought. He continued to throb inside of her, every fiber of his being aching for the release the both of them wanted. His breath grew shallow, heavy with the labor of his efforts. “Oh fuck!” he repeated, his pleasure reaching its cusp and hovering mere moments from spilling over. The thought of his rival in this state kept him rushing straight for that tipping point, leaving him almost greedy in his own desire to fill Arielle to the brim with his royal seed. But that was when his thoughts began to stray…

The reality settled in as bitterly as the cold, everything coming back to him all at once. This wasn’t just any woman to fuck and forget and hang the consequences. This was the daughter of the man who’d torn his kingdom in half. This was the woman he’d spent most of his life fighting against. The woman who, until no more than a weak ago, would have brought Hadrian and his ivory tower crashing down for all of Eirlea to bear witness to. And just like that, the idea of fucking Arielle became every bit as daunting and dangerous as it was thrilling. And yet, he was so close to release that he tried to ignore the fact. Eyes clenched shut as Hadrian focused on his efforts, hips pumping into her for a few more desperate thrusts. But the damage was done, the seed of doubt growing and growing until the king could no longer turn a blind eye to the gravity of his actions.

“Fuck!” he shouted, though unlike his last two, sweet cries, this utterance was devoid of any pleasure. There was bitter frustration in his voice, and it was promptly followed by a most terrible retreat.

Hadrian released Arielle entirely, hands fleeing their place on her body and his erect manhood torn from her wet pussy with rudely sudden haste. Hadrian’s slick-coated cock practically groaned with complaint, the denial of such a close climax leaving him with a deep-seated ache, not to mention the stinging cold now that he was free of Arielle’s warm haven. But Hadrian didn’t seem to notice as he stumbled a step back from her naked form, eyes roaming her position with a sort of disbelief.

“W-we can’t,” Hadrian spoke out weakly, as though they hadn’t already been in the throes of pleasure for all that time. “Or... I can’t,” he quickly amended himself, dropping his awkward stammer amid slowly returning senses. “Not yet. I’m sorry...”

Hadrian was quick to turn his back on her after that, feeling entirely ashamed beneath the weight of her gaze. Shaking hands immediately shot for the hem of his pants, still strewn about his legs, and tugged them back up, covering up his profile and protecting his sensitive bits, still wet with Arielle’s fluids, from the sheer cold. His mind was racing at he dressed himself, uncharacteristically stiff in his movements. How had things gone so far? He knew better than to lose himself to passion. How could he claim to rule with a cautious mind if he was willing to throw all caution to the wind? A hard-on was no good reason for ignoring his many, lingering concerns. And worse yet, no matter the time that passed, the words of his council at news of their engagement still rang heavily in his ears.

No matter how much time had passed, the words of his council still rang heavily in his ears. Few if any were willing to accept their marriage, and fewer still accepted the idea of her birthing a royal heir. Adding the question of legitimacy to their plate of concerns would only hurt everyone involved. Though, Hadrian couldn’t bring himself to elaborate any of that to her; the thought alone was enough to make him feel guilty. Yet, as the king, he didn’t have the liberty of taking such risks; no matter how regrettable the fact.

Hadrian had to confess, however, that denying her this part of himself (again), could prove every bit as risky as giving in. Especially once he turned to grab his coat, only to find a less-than-pleased looking grizzly bear standing firmly over it, its dark eyes boring straight into him. The king stood still as stone before the hulking beast, remaining as frozen as the world around them. Consumed in the heat between them, Hadrian had forgotten all about the dangerous predators lingering about the glen, all of them previously pacified by the woman he’d just chosen to scorn.

 

[MoldaviteGreen]

There it was.

The deep moans that growled low in the thick throat she pressed her cheek to had her tumbling towards euphoria, no longer lingering on the edge but amidst a jump into the depths. She felt like she was falling and flying all at once, her heart ready to explode from her chest as it filled so fully with warmth. Hadrian was rushing to catch up with her, to meet her in climax; his body growing taut and his thrusts deep within her becoming more rapid-fire. He was close, and she knew it, earning a devilish little grin that pulled at supple lips as she fought to keep mismatched eyes upon and cast upwards at the face that now contorted with equal pleasure.

But all it took was a split second for their crescendo to come crashing down.

Hadrian swore, frustration clear, and her smirk dissolved into a cautious frown. However tightly the near-orgasm had them both in its clutches, they were now free of it, clear-headed and aware, one a little more so than the other as became apparent when Hadrian withdrew himself from within her. His absence was missed, muscles clenching tightly at his withdrawal in poor attempt to keep him inside, though Arielle didn’t dare reach back to make a grab at him. Hadrian was a man who thought with his head and not his heart, and those kinds of people, she knew, were difficult to sway.

With Hadrian no longer at her back, Arielle was forced to straighten her posture into something far more casual than the arched position he had her in. Shoulders rolled to press backwards, hips tilting forward to a more neutral position as Arielle simply raised a hand and swept back the loose curls that had fallen about her face amidst their passion. As quickly as he had retreated, so too did her stone-cold defensive exterior rebuild itself.

“We could have,” she countered, her tone neither cool nor heated but a simple statement of indifference, “but you won’t.”

Arielle was not the least bit bashful as she turned to face him, in all of her naked glory against the backdrop of the trees, frozen lake and shimmering snow. No attempt was made to hide her body from him, as he hurriedly did so before her. Almost as if she hoped her nakedness would simply prove yet another point, she watched him with slightly narrowed eyes as he plucked his clothes from the snow and began to dress, keeping his eyes averted. There was a flicker of anger within her gaze, a smouldering ember that was birthed from the rejection that she was yet to understand completely.

Urso, however, was far less indirect in his displeasure.

The bear had meandered quietly through the brush, though the several broken twigs underfoot had not been enough to pry the pair’s attention from their heated union by the tree. He’d watched on with mild interest, golden all-knowing eyes far less attentive to animalistic movements but rather the softness that had taken over Arielle’s gifts upon Hadrian’s throat. It spoke of something the man was yet to realise or accept, which became further apparent when he withdrew from within Arielle’s core.

Standing now on hindlegs, like the beast that stood at Arielle’s back as she’d made her way back to the camp with the stag as an offering, Urso was a furious guardian that kept one claw on the coat by his feet—the creature daring the King to take it from his grasp. Upper lip twitched with the beginnings of a snarl, dark eyes watching Hadrian’s face before he bared sharp fangs. To reject Arielle was to reject something that Hadrian didn’t entirely comprehend, and Urso would have none of it.

A beast made furious, Urso hunched just a little his maw lowering almost to Hadrian’s face before the grove was split with a fierce roar; with enough gusto that dark wisps of the King’s hair fluttered. Arielle remained by the tree, standing passively as she watched on as Hadrian encountered the only creature with a temper to match her own. It was only when Urso rose and puffed out his chest that she moved forward, slipping her naked body between Hadrian and Urso as she laced a hand through thick fur.

“Lasai egon, maitasuna,” Arielle sung sweetly, stepping closer to the bear and away from the man who had chosen to withdraw and reject her. Urso bristled under her touch and was slow to respond, the ground trembling underfoot as the bear crashed down upon all fours and bowed his head towards her own. Forehead to forehead, Arielle stroked the sides of his face, soothing a creature that huffed warm air and still watched Hadrian from over her shoulders. “Bere gogoaren eta bere betebeharraren pisuaren beldur da, ez gauden lekuan.”

Urso gave only a grunt before making a swipe at the coat he’d stood over, tossing it clumsily to Hadrian with a disapproving huff. He was rewarded with a gentle kiss between wise eyes and a ruffle of his cheek before Arielle paced away once more to finally fetch her clothes.

“We should get going,” she said flatly, her tone having changed between conversing with the bear and the man she no longer understood. As Arielle began to dress, precise in her movements before bending to pluck up her cloak, she set him with a gaze of indifference. “Or else your men will have eaten all of the stag and you’ll simply have to miss out.”

Like someone all too happy to please, Urso lumbered enthusiastically towards Arielle, but not without casting a sharp look at Hadrian as he passed. Dropping low enough that belly grazed snow, Arielle was able to mount him with swift ease, nestling atop his shoulders as she fisted hands into his fur. Neither waited for Hadrian, making slow pace deeper into the grove in the direction of the camp assuming he’d follow.

 

[Fates.Gamble]

Hadrian never thought he would like the idea of Arielle being furious with him, yet he would have greatly preferred it to the cold indifference she met him with; as though she couldn’t care one way or the other about his actions. At least anger was something he understood; a reaction he expected. The one she gave him struck Hadrian with uncertainty, making an already graceless situation all the more awkward. Of course, his biggest concern was that of the grizzly staring him down. Hadrian swallowed his fears as he stood before the monstrous beast, feeling as though he were between a rock and a hard place with the unamused Arielle lingering abaft. He passed a questioning glance back at her, though hardly the time to enjoy the sight of her displayed profile, as Urso was more demanding of his attention. Seafoam eyes locked on those deadly fangs, revealed in a displeased snarl, as though the bear were every bit as offended as the lover he’d abandoned.

Hadrian’s breath caught in his throat, his chest growing tight as the beast hunched over, lowering that snarling maw within snapping distance of his face. He didn’t dare move a muscle, no more than wincing when the bear roared out his fury, seeming to adopt all the anger Arielle had forsaken. A lesser man might have pissed himself at that; even Hadrian felt his hands trembling, his ears ringing. He remained frozen to the spot even as Arielle came to intervene, slipping past Hadrian to embrace the beast as though he were her dearest friend. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, words failing the king as he stood there agape. For a long moment it seemed as though even Arielle’s sweetly sung words would not soothe the bear, Hadrian stumbling back as the goliath came crashing down.

Finally, the king sucked in the breath he’d been holding, some of the tension leaving his body as Arielle placed her brow to the beast and continued to soothe him. But his eyes remained on Hadrian as though nothing else existed, a gesture which Hadrian could not help but repeat, staring him right back down. When Urso made a swipe with his paw, the king flinched, expecting the worst, only to be struck with his coat instead. Hadrian snatched it up awkwardly, taking another step in retreat as he continued to gawk. Smart bear, he thought, the mystery of Arielle growing as he looked between the coat, the bear, and the woman herself. Maybe he’d never actually made it out of that blizzard… None of this could be real, right? Surely this was all just some hellish nightmare. He found himself running through the events of everything that happened since he’d taken that poisoned cup, scarcely able to believe any of it. Arielle’s words, however, brought him back to reality.

Yes, they really should get a move on, but Hadrian couldn’t seem to move his legs as he remained there, hesitant among the animals that surrounded them. The wolves which had been just minutes away from killing him earlier were still here, his intended dinner keeping their bellies full as they lay about watching the scene, as though curious how this whole thing would play out. The promise of a hot meal was a good motivator though, Arielle finally finding a way to stir Hadrian, even with a massive bear around. He moved cautiously towards Knox, who also knew well enough to give Urso space as the bear lumbered over to Arielle. With his senses steadily returning, sight of the stallion brought another question to mind.

Where’s your--” He meant to say ‘Horse’, though promptly cut himself off upon seeing Arielle shamble right up the grizzly’s flank and seat herself atop his powerful shoulders. That shut him up well enough, Hadrian feeling a bit diminutive next to them as he mounted up his thoroughbred. Knox was a fine animal to be sure, but no horse could hope to compete with a beast like that. He took his time following in their tracks, silently chastising himself and leasing a heavy sigh before clicking with his cheek, ushering Knox onward. They followed the massive paw prints left in Urso’s wake, the chilly demeanor emanating from Arielle every bit as frigid as the tundra they walked. His eyes settled on the back of her, a hundred different words springing up to the back of his tongue, but none managing to find their way out.

What a mess I’ve gotten myself into, he lamented, knowing that no matter what he chose to say to her, none of it would do any good. If it was complicated before, it was even more complicated now. He’d already crossed the line with her; he may as well have been a hypocrite for not seeing it through. Not for the first time, Hadrian cursed his royal lineage and the hassle it often caused. What he wouldn’t give to damn the law, forsake his crown, and follow his heart the way Arielle did. It came so naturally to her that he doubted she could fully understand his reasoning, even if he did explain it. All of that kept him deadly silent, the awkward tension so thick you could cut it all the way back to camp, where Hadrian hoped he would at least have a chance at a hot meal and a fair bit of rest before they tackled the latest setback in this very shaky relationship.

~

The King wasn’t the only one stuck in an awkward position. Back in Aquarin, his royal adviser was feeling much the same. While he’d earned not the ire of a rebel queen, the King’s Council was proving to be a mess of flustered hornets, their most frustrating tendencies amplified in their sovereign’s absence. Luckily, Lord Auden had spent the better part of his years serving the tired old lords, learning how to navigate their varied personalities, worries, and demands. Though it was equally unfortunate, for now that the king had named him his Royal Hand, the other lords of the council were none too pleased with a former servant now calling the shots. None of them supported Hadrian’s decision in elevating the man to his lofty status, making all of their grievances more hostile and impatient when put before him. It was exhausting at the best of times, but even more so now that the council was all but unanimous in their latest concern.

If they were displeased to see a servant risen to the rank of Royal Hand, they were downright furious to learn that a rebel general would now be serving as captain of the guard. Words could not describe the bluster that followed their first council meeting without Hadrian; there was enough hot air blown about the room to keep it warm for the next several winters. From there, the other lords made every effort to complicate the new Captain’s job, taking issue with his every decision, no matter how practical, and undermining him where they could. Of course, Auden could not entirely blame their skepticism. It was a bold move by the king, to be sure; one that set him on edge, no matter the amount of confidence he kept in their sovereign. Yet, no matter his own feelings, Auden would never break that confidence. He treated the man with respect where the others would not, disrupting their efforts to circumvent the Captain, even as the castle filled with his armed sentries.

For now, Auden hoped that he would at least be able to escape their yammering about it. He buried himself in busywork around the castle, overseeing the renovations that Hadrian had requested in his absence. There would be a concord struck upon the king’s return; an end of a war to celebrate, and a wedding to boot. Such dreary atmosphere would not do for such a grand occasion, and so the last several days had been bursting with activity as workers moved about, bringing a touch of color and a spark of life to the old, stone citadel. Even now, a group of servants worked to polish up the throne room, the marble floors more lustrous than ever thanks to their efforts. Where once stood a single throne now sat two; one for their king, and one for his queen.

Auden stood before the dais, gazing up at the twin seats of power with a touch of nostalgia. To think of all the years that had come and gone since he’d seen them together… After he’d lost his queen, King Leander saw no need for a second throne. He’d ordered it torn down, locked away along with any other reminder of his late beloved. That was Leander’s way of things. Surely, the king would have carved out his own heart if it meant bringing Kamala back to this world. But since he could not have his way, it was better to raze it all to the ground, burning out every trace and ignoring the pain. After seeing the way the late king changed after her death, Auden often wondered if Leander truly had cut out his heart and offered it up to the gods. It took a heartless man to savage the people the way he had the northerners… Perhaps his understanding of that is what made him more accepting of Arielle and Morteus in the end.

Not everyone could have such insight though, least of all the royal secretary, who hovered about Auden no matter which part of the castle he fled to. The man stood silently at his left, dark eyes jumping from the throne to the guards standing at the threshold. “That’s a lot of swords protecting a couple of empty chairs,” the secretary commented, slender fingers tapping against the small ledger he kept in hand. “Wouldn’t you say?”

“I’d say we’ll be thankful for them once there’s a royal buttocks or two to fill them,” Auden retorted dryly. He swept away from the thrones, the sound of his boots echoing off the ground as he marched away without to much as a glance at the man. If he had to explain his position on their newest council member one more time, he just might start taking pages out of Leander’s book when it came to dealing with the hardheaded lords.

“That is, assuming we ever do,” Auden’s tag-along guest pointed out, hastily moving to keep up with the spry old Adviser. “I don’t think I need to remind you… But the king said we’d be receiving a message by hawk once he’d reached the northern tundras. Well, I’m not geography expert, but by my calculations, that message is several days late.”

No, Auden certainly didn’t need reminding of that. It was at the forefront of his mind, and his concerns were growing with every day they received no word. Even so, not enough time had passed to cause for panic. “Any number of things could be the reason for that,” Auden told him, trying to convince himself as much as the lord, “It could be poor weather, or perhaps the hawk didn’t make it… Messages fail to reach their destination all the time.”

“Yes, it’s just awfully convenient that it happens now, while a foreign enemy mans the defense of the king’s castle.”

Auden came to a stop in the corridor, then turned to face the royal secretary with a critical look. “What exactly are you suggesting, my lord?”

“Nothing short of this,” he started to say, deciding to speak plainly. “Not all the lord of the council share our tolerance of the northerners. They see the king as gallivanting off to the north, fucking their frozen queen and outfitting the castle with her soldiers. If they were to somehow learn the king is now missing on top of that… Well, I don’t quite know how they’ll react to that news; but here’s a fact. The king has already abdicated the throne once. How long of an absence do you think they’ll allow before arguments of putting someone else on it are brought up? Never mind what they’ll do to the northern fellow now sitting our council, I fear they’ll never allow a man like you to sit it.”

Auden’s eyes narrowed slightly, the man’s nonchalant tone about such serious issues catching him off guard. The slight of ‘a man like you’ might have gotten under his skin a few years ago, but he was used to the criticism by now. First, he made a quick glance for sentries, confirming in fact that they were alone, and well out of earshot of any of them. The last thing he needed was word of this conversation getting out.

“Why are you telling me this now?” Auden wondered, mistrusting the man’s intentions.

“Because like you, I want what’s best for this kingdom. We’re only just coming out of a war, and the council is already in shambles. A power struggle now would only destroy what’s left of us. We need clear leadership, my lord. If I were you, I’d consider sending a rider after the king’s party. If he is alive, I would have you advise him to end this ill fated venture and return to the capital. But that’s only if I were you…”

The secretary left it at that, sweeping away just before a pair of servants rounded a corner to spot them. Auden eyed the two women suspiciously, though judging by their expressions and hushed giggles, he concluded they hadn’t heard anything of consequence. He lingered in the hall a while longer, even after they passed, chewing over everything he’d been left to consider.

 

[MoldaviteGreen]

A few hundred miles separated the several various pawns within one precarious game; some drawing nearer while others grew distant with time and travel. And yet, a single decision by one player sent a ripple through the carefully woven fabric of their world, shifting the journey of another no matter how distant. To the upper north of the playing board, a young man bubbling with mischief caught wind of circulating rumours, already on his journey to meet the two pawns that had dutifully crossed the border. Further south, in a world that would never accept him, a war-weary man stubbornly guarded the dais in the absence of the King, despite his loyalty laying elsewhere. Split by a blizzard, a loyal man remained by a cluster of soldiers that had sworn allegiance but were proving unruly as their thoughts and speculations wandered.

The two main players of this game, however reunited they were, were the most distant of all, despite one following the other closely behind amidst the waist-high snow. Distance could not only be measured by feet and miles, but the cool exterior of one young woman after another, painful rejection amidst the heat of passion. How interesting it was, most of all, that all players had taken a momentary shift in their journey that could not have been calculated.

A rebel guarding the King’s throne with dutiful stubbornness, refusing to step foot away from the dais himself in the anticipation that some power-hungry lord may make a mad dash for the plush seat.

A Seer being summoned further south only by rumours and not by the visions of his cousin that he was so used to seeing, a fact that had made him grow anxious as he began his journey from the most northern tip of the Kingdom.

A loyal man having shared his fears for the welfare of his kingly charge with the very same woman he seemed so against, tasking her with his charge’s return.

A King giving in to feral passion while the chill bit at bones as he drove himself balls deep within the very same woman he’d sought to destroy, and she him.

A rebel slowly leading the regent back to his men in silence, as she chewed over the words she wished to say but knew would never be spoken. Not now, not likely ever.

Perhaps it truly would have been best if Arielle had exploded in a fit of rage as had been expected, rather than coolly address Hadrian by stating simple facts, as if she hadn’t been deeply offended by his sudden disinterest once again. Yet, just as unexpected as she was by manner and mood, Arielle had quickly retreated into the recesses of her mind where she wondered what it was that she could have possibly have done wrong as he’d had her arched so beautifully against him in named glory.

Urso made the journey with ease, not relying on Arielle’s guidance as she remained mentally absent. The bear, instead, huffed deeply into the frigid air with a release of swirling steam as he guided the small party back towards the cavern and the warmth of the tents that awaited them. Knox would have had very little difficulty getting through the snow, Urso’s monstrous bulk clearing apart the white powder to leave behind a chasm and deep prints of packed snow; the beast stopping only a handful of occasions to glance back to ensure the steed and his rider were still following. Arielle did not bother with the same gesture, far too busy turning over the evening’s events distractedly to care for a glance over her shoulder at the very man she was pondering.

Their union had been something that they both seemed to have wanted, for several days now considering the rising tension between them. For Hadrian to deny himself, and to ultimately deny her, after he had been the one to instigate such a rough, heated union left Arielle more than a little puzzled. Had his sudden departure been because it was not as he had wished or expected? Knees tucked in tighter against Urso’s thick fur, Arielle leaning forward into his shoulders to stave off some of the chill that licked at cheeks blushed with embarrassment. She shouldn’t feel ashamed, but rejection was something she did not cope well with at all.

Their journey across the tundra was hindered only by the raging blizzard, the pair guided back towards the safety of the cavern only by Urso’s good senses. Soon enough, Urso was lumbering casually across the threshold of the camp, the raging blizzard winds having begun to die as they’d crept closer, the deep terrain of snow thinning substantially as they entered the sheltered base between the two small mountains.

The bear beneath her grumbled, a huff of hot breath released from wet nose, breaking Arielle from her internal pondering just long enough for her to note that Hadrian had remained behind throughout the way. With a ruffle of a hand through thick fur, she made her graceful dismount, boots crunching into the thin blanket of snow before she nuzzled forehead to Urso’s broad cheek in thanks for returning them safely when she had been absent.

“I hope the men left some venison for you on the fire.”

Words were chipped and cool, as icy as the land about them, as Arielle spoke to him from over her shoulder, only half-turning to toss a glance his way. Shoulders were proudly pressed backwards, her posture straight and tall as she stood before him for only a split second more. Then, with a slight frown, Arielle turned and disappeared further into the camp.

It was Urso who remained behind, watching Hadrian with those intelligent bronze eyes that were eerily all-knowing. The bear didn’t move, simply remained where he stood, his profile gifted to Hadrian as he kept still. It wasn’t until Arielle tugged on an unseen force that Urso was prompted to follow after her, but not before grumbling low in his chest and seeming to scowl at the King.

For the rest of the day, Arielle made herself scarce; purposefully avoiding Hadrian at any cost. Urso, of course, was a little harder to hide, though he seemed fairly successful as he lumbered about the shadows that began to grow long across the packed snow. It wasn’t until the twilight hours that Arielle believed that she had finally made some sense of what had happened, deciding to seek out affirmation.

Boots crunched over ice and white powder, declaring her approach before she took pause outside Hadrian’s tent. Was she brace enough to enter after this had been the place to begin it all? Was she brave enough to re-enter after this had been the place where he had cursed her? Tent flap was smacked aside, Arielle slipping inside without truly announcing herself, the ground shaking as Urso clumsily dropped to sit by the entryway.

“We need to talk.”

 

[Fates.Gamble]

As the pair made their way back towards their encampment, Hadrian found himself struggling to decide which felt colder; the blustering snows that ravaged his face, making him retreat behind the safety of his face mask and woolen hood once more, or the bitter chill that emanated from Arielle, who spoke not a word to him for the entirety of their journey. All the while, Hadrian pondered what he might say to her when the time came to address this; for it surely would. His eyes bore into the back of her, finding it necessary if he hoped to keep her in sight amid the stormy weather. At least Urso’s tracks were hard to miss, even in the worst of snows, should they find themselves separated.

Luckily it did not come to that, but neither did Hadrian find the words to accurately describe his feelings to the woman at her side. Countless ways to explain had jumped to his tongue, each feeling as inadequate as the next. Perhaps there’s nothing to be said, he reasoned by the time they made sight of the camp, first evidenced by the smoke of burning fires, before the grey stone could be seen peaking through the wintry air. Arielle was aware of his doubts, even if she didn’t know the specifics. Ultimately, the wedge driven between them was proving too great an obstacle to cross. Would words really help in the endeavor?

Hadrian was so engrossed with his thoughts he’d scarcely noticed they’d arrived until Arielle spoke, jostling him out of the trance. After everything that happened he’d nearly forgotten his hunger, not to mention the potential of fresh meat waiting for him. Once more he tried to summon his words; everything was there, lingering on the back of his tongue, yet her frozen words and scant glance kept them from breaking loose, and Hadrian could only nod in agreement from atop his horse before Arielle frowned and took her leave, great lug of a bear trailing slowly after her.

What a fucking day, he thought to himself, still scarcely able to believe it all as he watched the great, furry beast stroll through the camp as happy as you please. The rest of his men were acquainted with the monstrosity, or so it seemed, for they parted nervously out of his path, but did not make much of a fuss beyond that. They showed no small surprise at seeing their king return with rebel woman in toe, at least with her head still attached. But after she’d delivered them the boon of the deer, no one was in the mood to question it. All but one, that was.

Hadrian barely had time to dismount, a very anxious looking stable hand coming to relieve him of the reins, before Caius was upon him, stomping across the camp to confront the king directly.

“You gods damned fool!” he snapped, keeping his voice at an acceptable volume so as not to draw too much attention. “Where have you been?”

“Oh, you know… Out hunting,” Hadrian casually replied, passing one last glance a the back of Arielle and her guardian beast before she disappeared from view. Caius followed his gaze, catching a quick glance of her as well.

“Is that right?” he retorted sourly. “Then why’s she the only one coming back with meat?”

“Because I’m a shit marksman who couldn’t kill a doe to save my life…That and wolves. Any of that meat left by chance?”

Caius leased a breath, feeling some of the anxiousness leave him at last. “Not that you deserve it after this, but yes, I’ve managed to save you some. Defending has been nearly as dangerous a job as guarding you. You don’t make my job very easy, Your Majesty.” The title was given with no small amount of contempt.

“And that’s why I pay you well,” Hadrian shot back, striding towards his tent, feeling more than ready to fill his belly beside the warmth of a fire.

“Not well enough,” Caius grumbled as he fell in line, trailing behind the royal pain in the ass.


There was no small amount of scolding, nor declarations that this sort of behavior would not stand as they ventured further north, while Hadrian otherwise enjoyed his meal, the much needed protein restoring much of his depleted strength. It was like a fog had been lifted from his mind once he was warm and full of something other than oats and beans. Naturally, his mind turned back to Arielle, though he fought the urge to seek her out and explain himself. He was learning quickly that space was the best thing he could give her. More than likely, she would seek him out when she was ready. Hopefully this time it would not take five days to reconcile their misunderstanding…

Instead, it was just a few hours, Hadrian having busied himself with what little he could do to manage his kingdom from this wintry abode. As the winds slowly died down, the storm losing some of its intensity, he’d decided it was time for a long overdue letter to his council back home. It was already five days late thanks to the poor conditions, and no doubt Auden would be worrying himself sick over the lack of news.

No doubt the others have already assumed the worse, Hadrian thought to himself, putting pen to paper. Hopefully he’s found a way to keep things under control… This was, in fact, his first period of time away from the throne since his abdication, and that came with no few anxieties. In fact, Hadrian was steadily becoming a bundle of nerves, his concerns over the situation with Arielle and the reins of his kingdom of men he could never fully trust mounting into a ball of tension that was only growing after what happened in that glen. Denying himself the way he had left him flooded with angst and frustration, creating something volatile which that Hadrian wasn’t sure he could keep the lid on for much longer. And it was no sooner than he was beginning to feel this way that the perfect catalyst decided to add herself to the mixture.

Arielle… He realized from the moment he heard her boots crunching through the snow outside of his tent. Or, perhaps the real give away were the much heavier ones following in her wake, created by the monstrous bear that followed her. Setting his pen aside, he turned to face his guest as she breezed through, not bothering to announce herself save for one simple phrase:

‘We need to talk.’

Except that phrase wasn’t simple at all, and Hadrian found himself averting his gaze, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

“That sounds awfully familiar…” he said, thinking their previous encounter. “Remember what happened the last time we ‘Needed to talk’? We nearly fucked, and then we nearly killed each other… Like we always seemed to do.” His eyes inadvertently fell to the bottle of spirits sitting on his little writing desk. It was left corked, of course, as no matter how badly he might crave its potential euphoria, he’d been thoroughly put off on wine after nearly being poisoned by it. Hopefully, this talk would not end in the same fashion.

His eyes jumped back to her face. “So I’d say yes, clearly we do. Arielle, I…”

Yet again, words failed him as he looked upon her visage. What had he meant to tell her? ‘Arielle, I don’t know what to say’? ‘Arielle, I hope I didn’t give you the wrong impression’? ‘Arielle, I couldn’t give into our desires because I’m afraid of further uprooting my kingdom with the risk of a bastard son?’ None of it conveyed the frustration he was really feeling, but he noted the way she marched in her, looking determined to get to the bottom of it.

“Well you look like you’ve got something to say about it, at least,” Hadrian commented, unable to keep the vexation out of his voice any longer, “So let’s hear it.”

 

[MoldaviteGreen]

Mismatched eyes spied the King behind makeshift desk, an elegantly carved piece of lumber that held no flame to that which had remained behind in his drawing room in Aquarin. There he was, so poised and so regal, busying himself with penning a letter that would no doubt be sent back to the capital, Hadrian appearing as if nothing had occurred between them out in that blizzard. It pissed Arielle off all the more, that he had the audacity to smirk at her somber announcement, at her plea for some kind of reconciliation where previously it had taken her far longer than a handful of hours to find him and seek the same.

Her displeasure for this came by way of a sudden pause in her otherwise confident steps, her pace faltering for a split second as concerned frowned deepened into something maddened. Oh, to be a man who could be so smug and not worry about having such a smart-ass little smirk smacked from his face... Cream hands balled into tight, white-knuckled fists at her sides, her inclination towards violence all the more clear; as if it would ever be doubted.

“A fitting cycle, some may agree,” she growled a little darkly as gaze held his own in a harsh stare before she continued on her slow path towards him in a wide arc, “for two people who should be at each other’s throats. You seemed to have a fairly good grasp of mine back there by the lake.”

Hadrian’s fingers had burned into her flesh with such a firm grasp, leaving behind the ghost of his touch long after he’d relinquished her neck. It tingled now, even, as she seemingly grew distracted by the items decorating the large tent, her angered gaze having slipped from the man to whom she so coolly spoke. Arms folded beneath heavy bust, Arielle still cloaked in the fur and hides that had kept her warm from the blizzard on her search for him, very little of her toned form hidden from view. The fingers of her right hand flexed, stretching outwards like a cat would their claws, before they settled back into a loose fist by the side of her ribs. Footfalls were quiet but not silent as she’d previously and so skilfully made them, compressed ground crunching lightly underfoot as she paused by a trunk.

At Hadrian’s abrupt halt mid-sentence, Arielle grew eerily still; a statue by the trunk with her face slightly bowed as she made not a single motion. Instead, she allowed her mind to wander. What was it that he had been about to say? Was he thinking the same? Did he want to make amends? Did he see how deeply he had hurt her with his rejection and wished to apologise? Did he want to tell her that it had been a mistake? All were things that she had considered during their silent return to camp, when Urso had so dutifully guided them back to safety while she had been mentally absent. All, it would seem, would go unanswered for the time being as Hadrian remained silent.

Arms untangled, a lock of copper hair swept away from her cheekbone by a pale knuckle before it was plucked between fingertips and tucked behind pierced ear that glimmered with bronze studs. Pink tongue swept over lips, wetting the tiers that had grown dry from the harsh, bitter wind of the storm outside, and with the nerves as she’d contemplated whether approaching Hadrian was a good idea at all. With her back to him, Arielle took the moment to steel herself, pressing shoulders backwards into their usually confident posture as she raised face from its bow and glared darkly at the canvas of the tent. Why was it that she was always the one to come to him and seek amendment? Why did it always fall to her to fix whatever it was that stagnated their growth and halted their plans? Why did everything seem like it was her responsibility?

“You know,” she called to him from over her shoulder, seeming to become enamoured by the threads of the canvas, before she moved sideways towards the tear she’d cut days before in attempt to escape. It had been expertly fixed, though a stitch had been misguided, the two edges drawn together to mend the hole she’d clambered through. “I can hardly blame you for your sudden change of heart. It must have been difficult to realise that the Wild can have such a pull on you, for a man who is always calculating and considering.”

Cream fingers reached out to brush over the darker stitching, her touch light as she kept her back to him, purposefully speaking to him from over her shoulder. Arielle could not be bothered watching his features, trying to imagine what it was he was truly feeling as nothing was shown clearly to her by way of emotion. She was growing tired of misunderstanding one another and it showed in her exasperation. “The North has a way of removing inhibitions. Perhaps that is where you Southern folk get your prejudice of us from. After all, all lies are based somewhat on truth, are they not?”

Face turned ever-so-slightly, jade eye watching him from its darkly lashed corner before she turned away once more. “You do things that you would not usually, sometimes even what you would not typically wish for. I do not doubt that it was one of those times for you, Hadrian; when the Wild got the better of your senses and pushed you towards something you would not have wished for if you were clear-headed.”

Hand fell away from stitching. “All that I ask of you, Hadrian, is that you be in better control of yourself from this day forward. Do not fuck me if it’s not something you wish for. It is cruel to leave a woman as you did.” Arielle finally turned to face him, having spoken bluntly and said her piece as she crossed arms once more and smirked darkly; “You’re lucky I’m not the type to whinge and pine. Who knows what another woman might have done if you’d fucked her and left her in the snow the way you did me.”

Boots padded over rugs as Arielle crossed the tent towards him, taking a swipe at the bottle of wine that had been left corked, Hadrian’s interest in the liquor clearly waning. “Now,” she breathed, brushing aside a stack of empty papers so that they fluttered and fell to the floor, the redhead taking seat on the desk’s corner with long legs elegantly crossed, “someone has to drink this poor wine.” Letter opener was snatched, its blade stabbed into the cork to remove it with a loud pop, the neck of the bottle immediately brought to plush lips and wine swallowed eagerly with several swallows. Almost half the bottle was downed before it was set beside her hip atop the desk, before Hadrian, as Arielle swung her legs around to brush the outside of his arm before setting chin into her palm and elbow atop knee as she leaned forward.

“What was it that you had to say?”

 

[Fates.Gamble]

While Arielle had been cold and indifferent towards him during their ride across the tundra, Hadrian could see her anger now. He could practically feel it heating her blood as she paused, delicate hands balling into tight fists. He wondered what it would take to coax that rage the rest of the way out; for her to unload everything on him without mercy. Like before, Hadrian found himself half expecting she would. He deserved as much, after all, given the way he’d forsaken her in those bitter snows.

“A cycle we’re getting better at every time,” he agreed. From nearly drinking poisoned wine, to nearly bringing them to euphoria together… At this rate, he was afraid he couldn’t have one without the other trailing close behind. Though, he had to admit it, he could think of worse ways to go. He had less to say when she brought up the way he’d seized her back at that lake. Hadrian remembered all too well the way he lashed out in frustration and desire alike. The memory of it brought his gaze to slip away first, though as Arielle ventured further beyond the threshold, his eyes found her again, watching her from a distance as she seemingly occupied herself with the trappings about his tent.

His attention lingered on Arielle even as the stood, back turned and deathly silent. He wasn’t sure what thoughts were brewing within her, but judging by her rigid posture he was sure they were nothing good. How much longer can we keep this thing together? He thought, anxiously waiting to see where this would go. Her never expected it to be easy when he decided to propose to her, but now he wondered if it wasn’t a foolish idea from the first. Could burning attraction and a mostly common cause really overwrite years of bitter rivalry?

Hadrian stiffened once Arielle finally began to speak, though she did not grant him the courtesy of looking him in the eyes just yet. He braced himself for the worst, anticipating that this final, most potent rejection might have pushed her sentiments onto the same track as his thoughts. Watching the way her fingers traced over the patchwork left him no less on edge. The stitching was an inescapable reminder of what happened that night; one piece of a greater puzzle that had led them to this awkward, distant moment that Hadrian wasn’t certain how to move past. Instead, she came up with a reasoning that Hadrian hardly even considered, let alone believed in. But it was hardly the time to throw his skepticism in her face…

Instead he listened with quiet patience, using this chance to better understand Arielle and the way she saw things. She was doing a fine job of avoiding his gaze, never once refusing to face him as she spoke, save for one glance when further suggesting that what had transpired between them was due to nothing more than a trance; some boldness imparted to him by the spirit of the north. It had Hadrian setting his jaw, one hand curling around the back of his chair so tightly his knuckles went pale. His grip only grew tighter once Arielle scolded him, and it was Hadrian who was avoiding the other’s gaze again, head hanging low even as she finally turned his way, goading him with a dark smirk.

He perked up again soon enough, though, head lifting as Arielle approached him and swiped the untapped bottle from his desk, before throwing a stack of papers aside to flutter about the room. Hadrian watched them scatter before his eyes were inevitably drawn back to Arielle, who had no qualms about climbing stop his desk and make herself cozy.

“I’m not sure I’ll have the stomach for anytime soon,” Hadrian confessed over the wine. He was too busy trying to consume everything she’d just told him, never mind adding the drink that almost killed him to the mix. That didn’t keep Ari from helping herself. Given their history, Hadrian might have once looked upon that letter opener she grabbed up with a bit of hesitation. Instead, he found his attention on her shapely legs as one was crossed over the other. That was all it took for his thoughts to stray, his mind jumping back to how wonderful it’d felt between them.

Her proximity alone was enough to arouse him, leaving Hadrian an in even more awkward position. Oh how he would have loved to forget all about this talk and pick back up from where they’d left off. Mind and body were at war with each other, and it didn’t get any easier once Arielle shifted around, moving around so that those tempting legs made contact with his hand; a deliberate action, if he didn’t know any better. But invitation or not, he did not take it, but instead rose from his seat, putting some distance between them before he lost all train of thought again, like he did in those woods. He feigned as though the scattered papers were his reasoning, quietly collecting the mess while he contemplated how to respond.

The truth, he reasoned rather quickly.

“Honestly,” he began, swiping up the last of the parchment from the floor, “I have so much to say that I’m not even sure where to begin… But, I think an apology is most warranted.” Yet it was slow to come as Hadrian dealt with the stack of paper in his hand, organizing them all before setting them off to the side in a tidy little stack. Only then did Hadrian turn, giving Arielle his full attention from where he stood.

“Therefore, I’m sorry, Arielle. You’re right, it was a cruel thing I did; to abandon you like that, especially considering I was the one to encourage it. What I really wanted to say is that I regret my actions, and that at the very least you are due an explanation.” Hadrian paused, a slight frown claiming his lips and a bit of the softness leaving his eyes. The explanation could wait. There was one thing he wanted clarified before anything else.

“But, now I just want to say: You're a damn fool if you think it's this wilderness that compelled me.” Eyes flashed around the tent, the canvas of which shook even now with the frigid gaze that battered them from without. “It’s a wonder a man can even find his cock to use it in this infernal cold.” His burning gaze settled back on her, lingering and intense.

“Maybe the North does have a way of swaying people, but it’s not what moved me to do it. You are.” He sounded almost annoyed by the fact, as though the truth of it were the source of all his vexations. “It’s not this place that’s put a spell on me; you did, and it was cast long before we crossed those mountains. From the moment you stepped into that throne room, you’ve been in my head, coaxing me to abandon my inhibitions and do as I please, instead of what’s expected of me. It’s a constant thrumming from which I can’t escape. I’m not even sure if I want to anymore… All I know is I’m tired of trying to ignore it.”

Hadrian once again approached the desk, but instead of taking his seat he came to stand in front of her, his seafoam eyes studied the counters of her face for a moment, curious to how she would take this sudden, surely unexpected confession. But then they fell away, dropping to the half empty bottle settled by her hips. Arielle had her fill, and she was still whole, so he snatched it up and took a hearty swig for himself, relishing in its liquid encouragement. He hardly noticed the warmth of it spreading down with how heated his blood had become. One hearty take was enough to see him setting it back down, hand forsaking the bottle to settle upon her legs instead. Warm, strong fingers splayed as his hands roamed the span of them, sliding up towards her thighs.

“When I’m around you I don’t even feel the cold,” Hadrian went on, shuffling a step closer. “Only a fire building inside of me, and I'm sick of keeping it bottled up, unable to burn freely.” Gentle, caressing hands became much more firm as they took hold of her legs, and suddenly pried them apart. At the same time he stepped forward, allowing her legs to rest on either side of his hips as he came to occupy the space between them. He planted his hands on the desk, occupying the spaces beside her, and leaned forward, his face lingering just a few inches from hers.

“So would you like to keep talking?” he asked, keeping those mismatched eyes locked on his, “Or would you prefer to finish what we started in those woods and break this fucking cycle already?”

 

[MoldaviteGreen]

How easy it must be to walk away from something you can’t face, even when it has come to make amends...

As much as Arielle hated to admit, she had Hadrian to thank in order to return home, to no longer worry about those that wouldn’t survive another night amidst the violence of the rebellion. He had been the one to see a way to end this without it dissolving into pitiless horror, not she. He had been the one to find and approach her with an alternate answer to the decades long feud that had past from father to children, not she. Hadrian had been the one to initiate peace and call for calm, not she. It was something that Arielle was beginning to realise and learn to appreciate.

She had come to talk terms, to speak of how she could appreciate the challenge he must face as King where she was not faced with the same. It had hurt, the blatant rejection out by the frozen lake under the watchful eye of Urso, but the longer Arielle considered it, the less she found herself able to blame him. When one had the weight of an entire Kingdom upon one’s shoulders, giving in to selfish and potentially dangerous desires was nothing but an unnecessary risk. Truthfully, how could she blame him for making a mistake and realising halfway through when logic finally found him?

Hadrian had always been wiser than she, his mind finely tuned to logic and reason where she was lead by her heart. It made him a difficult foe, and a worthy leader, but a man that was proving just as difficult to read as he rose from his chair to pace away, scooping to collect the papers she’d carelessly allowed to scatter to the floor as she’d taken her place atop the desk.

Arielle turned to watch him, mismatched eyes unable to peel away from the man she still felt remained a stranger to her, twisting at her waist in order to keep her gaze upon him. She couldn’t look away, not now as she pondered what was on his mind. Hadrian, however, kept his eyes averted and, in doing so, stole away her chance to try and understand. That was, until he began to speak and acknowledge that he owed her an apology, doing just that and sombrely so.

Copper brows pulled together, a small frown forming on her face as she chewed over his words. If he believed that his actions had been cruel, acknowledged that it had been an awful thing to do, then what had they been encouraged by? Self-preservation? Perhaps the realisation that he was balls deep within the woman that not long ago wanted his head? What had it been that had spurred him to withdraw from within her and peel himself away when she had made herself vulnerable to him?

“Regret your actions....?” Arielle murmured the words aloud, not meaning to speak but instead silently ponder, and immediately bit the inside of her cheek when she realised her mistake. Did Hadrian regret taking her by the frozen lake like he had? Did he regret placing hands upon her and stripping her down to nothing? Was it the act that he regretted or the abrupt end? Whatever it was that he regretted, Hadrian’s ambiguous words had her chewing them over for a good length of time, side-tracked and absent-minded even as he continued to speak. Most of what he went on to angrily say went unheard, with Arielle still puzzled over what, exactly, it was that Hadrian regretted.

It wasn’t until Hadrian stated so boldly that it was she that moved him to carnal pleasures, that Arielle finally lifted eyes from where they’d fallen by the floor in deep thought, her mind once again present. There had been a shift in his tone, a pressure to his words and a frustrated pitch to his voice that had her frowning deeply back at him, albeit in mild confusion. Arielle was not the one who had lured him to take what he desired back by the lake. It wasn’t possible. Not a single thing that Arielle did was ever able to get a rise nor reaction from the King, and she knew better than to think she had had anything to do with how he felt the sudden urge to take her.

It wasn’t me. Not truly. It was the nights away from the whore-house, even if it no longer pleases him as it did once before. It was the lonely nights spent on the road that’s left him feeling disconnected. It was the need to feel flesh and be reminded of something, or someone back home. Hadrian does not desire me like I do him, he made that very clear days ago when he toyed with me and then ordered me out of his sight; something I’m still, clearly, not over.

But Hadrian pressed on, unaware of the inner turmoil Arielle was battling within her mind as she struggled to understand how it could have possibly have been her and not the wild of the North that had coaxed him to momentarily forgo his structure of self-discipline. It left the read-head speechless, sitting atop the desk and turning more completely towards him, no longer watching from over her shoulder. It was clear that she was stunned, mismatched eyes searching his face as lips parted as if she were about to speak but was somehow, uncharacteristically, unable to find words. A lock of curled copper hair fell from over her shoulder to brush the edge of her face and it went ignored, Arielle so very clearly all too focussed upon the man who was divulging more in one moment than he had in several days.

“Then don’t ignore it.”

A small whisper. A murmur that was barely audible to her own ears. A plea for him to finally give in and do what he wished without fear of consequence. At what point would Hadrian realise that he wasn’t living if he continued this way; always doing what was expected and requested of him by weight of the crown, but never what he wished?

With his steps, Arielle’s lithe body followed, turning so that she was always facing Hadrian as he came to stand before her, painfully out of reach. How her hands itched to find their way into his own, or against his sides to pull him close. They balled into small fists against the wooden top of the desk, knuckles paling just a fraction with the tightness. She straightened, spine lengthening and shoulders pressing backwards to square some more, as she greeted Hadrian’s proximity with a sharp intake of breath. Arielle would be a terrible liar if she said her skin wasn’t the least bit heated by his words, a warmth having settled into the depths of her belly with merely his apology and the fire of voiced frustration that came after.

Legs slowly uncrossed, the motion slow as she grew distracted, watching as Hadrian claimed the half empty bottle of wine she’d placed by her hip and take his own lengthy swig. Mismatched eyes settled upon the notch in his throat, watching the cartilage bob with each swallow. Hadrian had spoken of how she had seemingly cast a spell upon him, one supposedly made in attempt to inspire lack of discipline within him, but it was Arielle who was caught in a spell now, unable to pull even her eyes away from the man who stood before her.

It was the heat of his hands against her legs that had Arielle blinking, lifting eyes from his throat to his face as Hadrian stepped closer still. The touch alone had her skin set aflame, nerve endings of fire wherever those fingers smoothed. Hadrian was branding her with his touch, his hands the iron, and Arielle wasn’t sure if she could even be mad about how easily it was for him to transform her into something far more subdued than her usual self with simple proximity and earnestly spoken words.

He had knees apart in seconds, legs easily pressed aside to make space for him to stand between thighs and press closer to the edge of the desk, Arielle having to lean backwards a fraction to keep a slight distance. Too close, she knew, and she might end up doing something they would both come to regret; one more so than the other. Hadrian had her under a spell of his own, even if he was yet to realise it, and it had pupils dilating a fraction and bottom lip being caught between teeth as she held her breath.

She couldn’t do this anymore, couldn’t continue to play this wicked game of theirs that no one would ultimately win.

The hands that had balled into fists against the desk’s top suddenly unfurled, Arielle shifting weight forward into her hips to allow her hands to move freely. The cool tips of their noses almost brushed, their breaths now shared. Slender fingers found the waistband of his trousers, but didn’t dare dip beyond, instead becoming distracted by his shirt that they soon fisted in and tugged upon to coax Hadrian even closer. He felt so far away, too far away, and it just wouldn’t do.

“Hadrian....” a hand fell away from his shirt, slipping between them as chin rose as eyes searched his face, fingers threading through inky hair to hold the nape of his neck, settling at the base of his skull gently. Mismatched eyes fell to warm lips that had caught her own so fiercely down by the lake that she realised she could still feel them upon her; setting scorching kisses along the length of her mouth and jawline. Her heart thrummed now, leaping against ribs so brutally it ached, and she was sure that he’d be able to see the gentle blush of rose that bloomed across her cheeks in deep arousal.

So completely enamoured by Hadrian as she was, Arielle utterly consumed by him and unable to think of anything else, that the low growl of displeasure outside the tent went unheard. Not even Urso’s poor attempt at communication, a press of a name inside her mind, was noticed. It was not until the cool tip of her nose brushed against Hadrian’s, Arielle wriggling forward to the edge of the desk as she tucked legs around his hips, hooked feet over one another at the back of his knees and pressed forehead against his own that she finally realised they were no longer alone.

“Cousin! How unexpected to find you cozying up to the King. I would have thought that that grumpy old bastard out by the fire would have been much more your type. Though, I do suppose that you’re a sucker for all things familiar.”

Another growl sounded, this one far more displeased as Urso lumbered into the tent’s opening after the newcomer, snapping jaws in the young man’s wake but clearly unable to fit within the threshold of the small space not adept to his monstrous size. His look was pitiful as wise eyes fell upon the pair, so closely standing, Arielle with his back to him. A low rumble sounded in his throat, the sound itself sorrowful in apology of not doing his best to keep them undisturbed as she’d requested. His apology, however, was met with a small rush of warmth through bond, Arielle instantaneously forgiving him.

With her forehead pressed to Hadrian’s and a hand in his hair, Arielle gave the King in question very little ability to peer at the newcomer, who spoke with accented words and a sense of pompous joviality. Arielle didn’t need to see the face to know who it was, able to recognise the young man by voice alone even after several years apart.

An exasperated sigh huffed softly between parted lips, the warm air licking at Hadrian’s own as mismatched eyes settled close for the briefest of moments. It was almost as if Arielle wished for the newcomer to disappear and believed she had the ability to do just that should she close her eyes and pretend. But Arielle did not let him go. Instead, she still clung to Hadrian as tightly as ever; knees pressing into his hips to keep him close as hand fisted tighter in his shirt. A single second more and Arielle whispered, “I’m sorry.” Sorry for being unable to do as she wished and pick up from where they had left off. Sorry for them being disrupted once again by forces outside of their control. Sorry for being unable to break the cycle that Fate seemed to not wish them to. Again, she sighed but whispered as if in pain; “I’m sorry.”

It was clear that Arielle did not wish to let him go, was pained in doing so, for her movements and release of him was slow. Hand fell away from the back of his head, fingers slipping from dark hair. Ankles unhooked from each other and pulled away from where they had settled at the back of his legs. It was the hand fisted in the shirt that was last to pull away, but Arielle soon proved unable to completely relinquish him; her fingers finding Hadrian’s and intertwining loosely as if she were unsure whether the gesture, made in search of comfort, would be welcomed.

Then, and only then, did Arielle turn to give the newcomer her profile, a look of clear anger written upon her features as she growled to him; “Dušan, I did not sense your arrival and, quite frankly, I was pleased to find that you had not found me as quickly as you would usually. Your senses a little off lately, are they, cousin?” Copper brow rose, a singular motion that came with curious probing.

The young man, Dušan, moved towards a chair by the opposite side of the tent and dropped within its seat, kicking up his legs to set booted feet atop wine case as he reclined. He seemed the spitting image of Arielle, a masculine form of the rebel leader if there ever was one. Long copper hair braided closely to scalp and decorated with pieces of bronze. Dressed neatly in furs and hides in order to keep one’s self warm from the chill of the tundra and blizzard raging beyond. The only thing the young man seemed to be missing were her mismatching eyes, his own simply a mundane shade of juniper green.

He looked to Arielle with a smug smile, shrugging a broad shoulder as he glanced to Hadrian with a smirk. “Nothing gets past me, cousin. I knew you were here the second you crossed the Pass. I simply chose to take my time.”

A pointed look from Arielle said only one thing. Liar.

“Well,” Dušan stretched backwards, raising arms above head before folding and tucking them across chest as he reclined comfortably within his newly acquired seat, “go ahead and continue. Don’t mind me, will you, cousin? You know that I like to watch.” Green eyes slid from Arielle to Hadrian, running over the King from head to toe in a slow, and rather provocative, motion. That smug little smile darkened with clear mischief, before he added; “You never mentioned the man was a looker.”

Arielle’s fingers tightened about Hadrian’s, almost painfully so, as she grit her teeth to stave off the brewing anger. But was she mad at her cousin for making a pass at Hadrian, or was she mad because he just so happened to be another thing to cause disruption in their toxic cycle of love and hate?

“You need to leave, Dušan.” She spoke flatly, motioning to Urso who still stood at the threshold, his shoulders barely inside and the tent flaps stretched wide, allowing frigid air inside. Arielle shifted to the side obscuring her cousin’s view of the man she kept close. “Zure oilarra zure pilotetatik moztu eta monje bat utziko nizuete lekuko izan behar ez zenukeen zerbait hondatzeko.” Her tone had become far more poisonous, snarled even as she scowled at her cousin from across the tent and nodded towards the door. “Leave. I will find you.”

The chair creaked with the shift in his weight, Dušan pressing back into the chair to lift the front legs from the floor, a clear motion of defiance that suggested he was not keen to go anywhere, despite the threat spat at him by a woman who would likely go through with it. “If having my cock severed from my balls is the cost of watching that beauty of a man fuck a woman, then so be it.” Juniper green eye winked mischievously at Hadrian, glimmering with playful intent.

“Utzi, joder!” Arielle snarled, throwing a hand by way of the tent flap.

Chair legs were set back down upon floor, Dušan straightening before he rose from the seat and smoothed cream hands down the front of his fur cloak. His paces were languid and slow, taking his time as he moved towards the furious bear that awaited him by the threshold, though he took pause by the door to look over broad shoulder back at Hadrian before he smirked and called; “You have ten minutes and then it’s my turn, sweet thing.”

Then, once more, Arielle and Hadrian were alone.

 

[Fates.Gamble]

Hadrian told Arielle that she had cast this spell the moment she stepped foot in his throne room, but in truth it was before that. Her mystifying eyes and red hair, as vibrant as fire, felt like Hadrian’s earliest memory, the first thing he could think of no matter how far he ventured into the recesses of his mind. She’d enraptured him since he was a child, constantly on his mind no matter how many times he wore his princely mask in front of her. In his heart he’d always wanted to forgo responsibility; to forsake his father’s royal teachings and spend the day exploring the castle, making mischief, or getting into fights like she tempted him to. He spent all that time avoiding her, never letting her see the stir she caused in him, only to lose her forever over a spat between fathers; one that went on to fracture an entire kingdom, and any chance the two of them might have had along with it.

Hadrian could still recall the way he felt the day she and her father left, banished from Aquarin in the heat of one of his father’s raging tempers. That was when this war had officially begun, tearing a fresh hole into a heart still grieving for the loss of his mother. Never had Hadrian felt so alone as he did in that time; never so desolate and regretful to have ignored her. Never, that was, until five days ago, when she’d torn through that canvas and disappeared into the snows, leaving another hole in his all too wounded heart. No loneliness could compare to the isolation he felt then. Nothing was worse than the idea of never seeing her again, so soon after getting her back, changed as they were.

Maybe I don’t really care about ending this war, Hadrian thought as they lingered half a breath apart. Maybe I’ve been selfish all along… Maybe this is all I ever really wanted. He didn’t dare say it aloud, but the thought spurred him on. He’d spent so long denying that truth, that none of it felt real, even as he came to terms with it all. For the life of him he couldn’t even say why he was confessing any of it now. Not two minutes ago he’d been to anxious to even sit near her, now here he was downing wine and practically ready to take her there on the desk. It was like a switch had been flipped, and Hadrian thought that perhaps Arielle was right. His true feelings had been what spurred him into advancing in the glen, but it was the freedom of the North that inspired him to act on those feelings. For once he was all heart; completely out of his head and able to follow his desires. What a shame his concerns found a way to anchor him the first time.

Those concerns were still unspoken, with Arielle due an explanation lest she ponder all the wrong reasons. But Hadrian was selfish in this as well, unable to bring up such an ugly train of thought and risk ruining this potential moment. How many moments like this could they have, before complication tore it all apart? All that mattered was Hadrian was decided. With their marriage around the corner, even a premature conception would be passable. At this rate, the back and forth of this engagement was proving a greater risk than an heir of questionable lineage. That was a secret he could still keep. Their honest attraction, however, was there for all to see. What were the laws of men against the forces of nature, or the will of the divine? The Kings of Eirlea were chosen by the Gods, after all.

But while Hadrian had found his resolve, Arielle now seemed the hesitant one. He could still see the longing in her eyes, but there was unmistakable hurt as well. They’d started this whole affair playing one another, and not for the first time, he wondered if she would ever see it as anything but an act now.

It was real… He wanted to tell her, thinking back to that morning in his chambers. But he’d confessed as much the day after the whorehouse, then again when he kissed her out in that lake. He could confess his true feelings all he wanted, but did it change anything when he took a step back every time they got closer? Perhaps this last retreat had been a step too far. But then she responded, teeth digging in to the pulp of her lip, balled fists unfurling, wandering hands coming to find the hem of his trousers, before gripping his shirt to pull him in. Hadrian obliged, giving in and coming so close their lips might have met, had Arielle not reached up to thread fingers through midnight hair, ultimately coming to rest at the base of his skull. He longed for the taste of her, a sweet ambrosia with which he was only just getting familiar, but he didn’t dare make the next move. He waited for her reception, fully intent on showing her just how wanting and accepting he was, once he was certain she wanted it as well.

A devious smile crossed his face at her reaction, strong legs coming to wrap around his hips, as though to never let him forsake her again. He had no intentions of it, his hands leaving their place on the desk to take her by the waist instead. He was every bit as enamored, so caught up in Arielle that he too remained oblivious to the intruder. Had it been a lesser man, his offense might have been as great as delivering poisoned wine. Hadrian was finally going in for the kiss that would have both thrown them over the edge, yet no more than noses touch, lips halting a fraction of an inch apart when the northerner announced himself.

Hadrian’s slightly parted lips closed, his jaw setting with immediate frustration. Wrapped up in Arielle as he was he couldn’t see the one who dared disturb them, but he got a fair view of a giant bear head pushing through the flap to threaten the interloper. Luckily the bear was not single minded enough to force himself all the way through, or else the tent might have collapsed and really dampened the mood. Honestly, Hadrian couldn’t have brought himself to look at the man even if he wanted to. Such was his fury towards him. Instead he had eyes only for Arielle, his expression every bit as apologetic, though more for the situation. It wasn’t his family that had come knocking, after all. Even so, Hadrian held her in kind, as though nothing else existed so long as they refused to acknowledge it.

However, that was not the case, and as Arielle finally unfurled herself, Hadrian took a slight step back, twisting to face the one who’d drawn his ire faster than just about any man alive. Northerner or not, he might have unleashed his fury on the man then and there had Arielle not taken his hand, her gentle grip pacifying him for the time being. There was nothing but contempt in his seafoam eyes as he met Dušan’s junipers, which roamed him with anything but contempt. Hadrian wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about the look he got, in fact, which was almost as desirous as Arielle’s before him. His brows knitted at the compliment to follow, the reality of the man’s… tastes coming to light.

Having never had a man make a pass at him before, it left Hadrian a little too stunned to retort before Arielle was demanding he leave. Given it was her kin he chose not to overstep any bounds, remaining absolutely silent until Arielle found the right words to drive him away, albeit in the tongue Hadrian could not understand. Dušan’s colorful translation helped him to understand the first bit, but it was whatever she snapped after the threat that finally saw the man drop his leisure. Hadrian watched as the chair came down with a thud, its occupant slow to rise and take his leave. But not with out one final pass to Hadrian, who finally managed to find his voice in a shot back at the promiscuous northerner.

“I’m afraid your heart couldn’t handle it,” he said, a dark tone buried beneath the taunting words.

A heavy sigh broke from his lips once they were finally alone, Hadrian turning to Arielle to grace her with a serious look. “The cousin you mentioned?” He inquired, remembering her mention of the man as they crossed the pass. “I think I’m beginning to see the danger you spoke of.” All joking aside, however, another, regretful sigh slipped past his lips, his eyes falling to where their hands remained intertwined. “Well... I’d hate to keep you from a family reunion.” tightening his grip, he lifted their hands, bringing the back of hers up to his lips, where he placed a soft kiss and before giving her a halfhearted smile.

“Another time then, perhaps?”

Though, at this point it was hard to believe they’d ever get a chance to truly be with one another. The thought remained heavy as he let his hand slip from hers to turn away, his attention returning to the unfinished letter on his desk. He retrieved the parchment, eyes scanning over the words, merely pretending to read them while she remained. His responsibilities in Aquarin were actually the last thing he wanted to think of after these constant letdowns. Much more of this and he was like to develop a madness to rival that of his father.

 

[MoldaviteGreen]

Arielle remained turned from him, Hadrian only able to view the profile of her face as she kept narrowed gaze towards the tent flap where Urso was slow to sit down before once more. The ground shuddered with his weight, Dušan very clearly able to be heard as he taunted the beast, who snarled rather loudly in clear anger and displeasure. Urso was no more pleased at the interruption than Arielle herself, and the bear made this very clear by snapping jaws at Dušan’s pretty face to send him on his way.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured softly, downtrodden that her cousin had timed his arrival so poorly. Usually squared shoulders fell a fraction, Arielle slumping as she remained seated atop the desk, pivoted at her hips. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, not yet. Would she see anger within those sea foam eyes? Or would it be unbridled relief? Drawing a deep breath into lungs through parted plush lips, Arielle tightened fingers about his own. “Hadrian, I....”

Face turned, mismatched eyes drawn upwards over Hadrian’s features to fall into those soulful eyes; the look within her own pained and regretful. How could they possibly make amends when, every time that she tried, they were always interrupted? How could she possibly tell him all that she felt, and the truth, when they could barely spend a minute alone?

“Yes,” Arielle finally said, her voice flat and cold as she grit her teeth. “The cousin I mentioned that you would need to keep an eye on. If you ever thought I was trouble, then at least now you realise I may not be the worst. Where I will sneak into your chambers and sleep at the foot of your bed simply to be close, Dušan is far more likely to steal into your tent, do away with your clothes and find himself impaled upon you before you even have a chance to wake.”

Mismatched eyes only pulled away as their intertwined hands were drawn slowly to his lips, her knuckles and the back of her hand gifted a gentle kiss that was as equally unexpected as the earlier confession. It subdued her anger, if only by a fraction, and left Arielle somewhat more clear-headed.

“Perhaps it will be enough to convince you to keep me close....” from beneath dark lashes, Arielle looked to him; sapphire blue and jade green glimmering with the same desire as before, though tinged with a warm longing.

Don’t let go. Don’t push me away again. Don’t do this again.

But Arielle would not plead aloud, would not beg him to keep from turning away from her once more; something that was becoming painfully expected. How much longer she could tolerate this unknowing, she wasn’t sure, but she knew it likely would not be for very much longer. Arielle’s resolve could only last for so long before even she crumbled.

Fingers began to pull, digits slipping from one another despite how desperately she tried to cling to his hand. It wasn’t until her hand was finally released, allowed to fall and come to rest atop her knee, that Arielle was spurred to move. She said nothing, choosing to remain silent as she slipped from her spot atop the desk, dusting hands upon thighs as she turned from him and stalked towards the tent flap. Arielle couldn’t bring herself to say anything, not even to look at him, instead choosing to leave in silence. He’d hate her for it, maybe. He’d think her cruel and sadistic for leaving in such a manner, perhaps. But Hadrian would soon understand.

The tent flap shifted aside, shoved angrily out of her way as Arielle was birthed into the frigid cold once more. Urso huffed, tossing a look over furred shoulder as she easily stepped about him, taking only the briefest of seconds to run fingers over his cheek. A sound escape him, not quite a growl but a rumbling in his chest in audible communication, that earned a dismissive wave from her as she trudged stubbornly through the snow.

She wondered whether Hadrian would notice the missing letter opener she’d swiped from the desk, leaving behind the pierced cork.

Dušan was nowhere to be found, and Arielle expected this much. He had a way of appearing out of thin air and disappearing in the same manner. But her cousin was not who she stalked and sought out in the cold. Instead, hand clasped they broad shoulder that belonged to the Shield, spinning him away from the fire he stood about with some of the men, forcing Caius to face her.

“You owe me,” Arielle growled, her speech pressured. “You owe me for going out in that blizzard and saving his hide. I never forget a favour, and in normal circumstance I might have kept it for years just to have something over you, but I need you to do something for me.” Eyes glanced momentarily to the men behind Caius’ shoulder, before her gaze returned to his war-hardened face. “I need you to keep the men in line, to make sure there isn’t a single reason that Hadrian would need to leave that tent of his. I trust you, Caius, but I need your word that you’ll ensure nothing happens.” The grip upon his shoulder softened, squeezing once before her hand fell away. In that moment, it was almost as if something had taken over Arielle, transforming her into a softer, warmer replica of her usually fierce self. “Please?”

Whether or not Caius agreed to do as she asked, with the weight of the favour hanging over his head being something the Northerners took seriously, Arielle already had plans stewing about in her mind. She stood only a few more moments before Caius, awaiting his reply, before she was quick to leave once more; trudging through the snow back towards Hadrian’s tent, the letter opener held now in a closed palm.

Urso grew uneasy at the sight of her, at sensing her intention, even if what she had planned could be considered something minor. Minor, perhaps, if Arielle hadn’t spent a greater portion of her life in the southern half of a kingdom apart from innate power. He shifted uncomfortably in the snow, the white powder crunching beneath his weight, as eyes watched the young woman approach. He wouldn’t refuse her, he couldn’t when he was just as equally emotionally invested in their union, but he didn’t have to like her means.

“Mesedez?”

Cream hand outstretched, her palm skyward in request, as she smiled small at Urso, Arielle somewhat patient as she watched the bear stew over the decision. Soon enough, heavy paw was lifted to settle atop her own, twisted so that the dark palm was also skyward in offering. Black lip twitched, wet nose wiggling as he huffed a blow of hot air, but Urso did nothing to pull away, nor flinch as the blade of the letter opener was sliced across thick-skinned paw pad.

“Eskerrik asko, maitasuna,” Arielle murmured, pulling her hand from beneath his palm to expose the pale flesh. As Urso kept his paw level, dark blood rising to pool across the soft pad, Arielle drew the blade across her own palm to illicit the same. Only then, when crimson welled into the lines of her palm, did she press her’s and Urso’s together, mingling life source together.

With a nod of her head, she gestures to the left of the tent, Arielle already turning towards the right. A warning alone wouldn’t keep Dušan from returning, just the same as a simple wish wouldn’t keep the rest of the world from them. Bloodied paw and crimson-smeared hand were precise, pressing against the snow in equally spaced intervals. Where Arielle dipped a finger into the snow, drawing runes within the white powder, Urso did the same with a dark claw. They’d done this once before, a spell of protection to create a safe haven for those within, and Urso remembered it fondly.

Only when Hadrian’s tent was entirely circled by engraved runes and bloodied prints, did Arielle move to kneel before the tent flap, Urso lumbering to stand beside her. “O Ama maitea. Mantendu mundua kanpoan eta maitatu barruan. Bereizten gaitu urrundu nahi gaituen guztitik.” The chant was musical to the ears, a song from a siren herself as Arielle pled with the gods of old. Two fingers dipped into the congealing blood of her palm, brought up to sweep over her forehead in a vertical wave. The loss of a memory, taken by the gods as a price for their effort, was nothing compared to what Arielle was willing to lose for this, for him.

It was the loud call of a raven that drew her eyes upward, Urso bristling at her side. Lips pulled into a wicked smile, Arielle burying her bleeding hand in snow to rinse away the crimson stain.

There would be no more interruptions.

Like an eager young girl unable to contain her excitement, Arielle shot from where she stood to shove aside the tent flap and burst back inside. She looked wild then, mismatched eyes alight with excitement and promise. Blood smeared in a wave from the widow’s peak of her hair to between brows, beginning to blacken as it dried in the frigid cold. Wisps of copper hair having fallen loose from the braid that barely kept the rest from her face, barely clinging to the curls that struggled to get free. She took pause there, just within the threshold of the tent, as she looked to Hadrian with the brightest glimmer to her eye.

“Hadrian.”

Her steps were slow, cautious even in her approach as she crossed the large space of the tent to finally round the desk which he stood behind; pouring over the letters she hoped he would soon forget.

“Forgive me,” she spoke softly, Arielle coming to stand at the corner of the desk as if she was unsure of the ire she’d caused in her wordless and sudden departure. “I needed to call in a favour, and then ask for another.” Mismatched eyes dropped to the letter that he had been writing upon her initial entry, the parchment seeming to have garnered his attention once more in her absence. “I have no doubt that your Council will be eagerly awaiting word; either of your untimely demise so that they may bicker over ascension, or of your good health so they can thank your omnipotent God for keeping you safe.” Copper brow rose as she suggested the irony of both, not finding it difficult to imagine some members already plotting to outdo each other in their bid for the throne in assuming Hadrian’s silence was caused by his death.

“Caius is seeing to the men,” she announced suddenly, moving to stand at his side as she eyed the parchment curiously, “and seeing that there isn’t a single matter that would require your attention or presence for the duration of this evening.” A loud clatter announced the return of the letter opener, the blade’s edged marred with clotting blood, Arielle smirking a little darkly. “And I’ve ensured that even if something does require your attention, or if someone would be bold enough to test me, that they’d find it surprisingly impossible to get near.”

Arielle turned in place, toned arms coming to cross under heavy bust as she leant back against the edge of the desk she’d so boldly climbed atop prior. There was a daring mischief to her eyes, a glimmer of wicked promise that shone brightly even under dim candlelight. A knee bent, a leg turning out from hip to press knee against the outside of his own. With her usual confidence, leg drew upwards, knee dragging up the length of his outer thigh in a smooth, almost provocative motion.

“No one will be coming in. Not Caius. Not Urso. Not even my dim-witted cousin.” Corner of her mouth twitched upwards in a smirk. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re probably safest with me around. Do you want my opinion?” Arms uncrossed only for fingers to find the leather strip in her hair that kept the last few curls up and away from her face, tugging to release a cascade of brilliant copper tumbling over her shoulders and wisps to brush against the edges of her face. “You might be safer still if he can smell nothing but me on you the next time he’s close.”

“So, my love,” cream fingers brushed aside a tendril of bright hair behind pierced ear as she grinned at Hadrian. “How would you like to spend the next six hours of preserved privacy that I bought us?”

 

[Fates.Gamble]

Hadrian had long come to terms with the abrasiveness of the northerners. All too often they were disagreeable and coarse with him; not that he faulted them for it. Even before the war, the wandering nomads of the north had never been on the best of terms with the southerners. Yet even when they were amenable, they weren’t much for filters, as Arielle had proven multiple times with her mannerisms in otherwise professional environments. But at least Arielle’s way came off as… mostly harmless banter.

Dušan however, was already appearing far more destructive and bold in his antics. The way he’d snuck into the King’s own tent to disrupt them, and the way he taunted Urso… If he was willing to toy with a giant, deadly beast like that, Hadrian had no reason to doubt Arielle’s ominous warning about her cousin. Lucky for the king, he’d been sleeping with a large knife beneath his pillow since the night he’d raised a poisoned chalice to his lips. Should Dušan prove brave enough to try it, he would likely find Hadrian to be the one carrying out Arielle’s threat from before, whether he kept her close or not.

But for the time being it seemed the two of them were only drifting further apart. No sooner than her hand fell from his grip, Arielle swept off without a word, appearing stony in her departure. Hadrian’s eyes followed, watching her exit the tent with disappointment. He wondered whether that brusqueness was for him, or for her cousin, not that he could blame her either way. This whole thing was a mess, and it only seemed to be growing messier with every day. It should have been easy; especially now that he’d confessed the feelings he’d been sitting on.

But only half of them, Hadrian realized, tossing the unfinished letter back on the desk now that Arielle was gone.

Indeed, he’d told Arielle the way she stirred him; the way she’d set flame to a desire that was now burning out of control, and that he was more than ready to act on it. But he didn’t tell her what was lurking on the other side of that desire. He said nothing about the immense pressure he felt to end this war; about how it was more important than anything else, even his feelings towards her. Nor did he mention anything about his fears: Not the reason he’d stopped so abruptly in the woods, and not the way he feared her own intentions.

Hadrian doubted he’d be getting the chance to relay any of it any time soon. He wasn’t likely to come springing forth with any more confessions. And even if he and Arielle did wish to pursue this new, physical relationship between them it would be twice as difficult with Dušan now hanging about; of that he was already certain. A second northerner in his camp would rile the men up as well, especially if he pulled such nonsense on the others about the camp. He could only hope that Arielle would find a way to manage her cousin; or perhaps that Urso would devour the man the next time he jeered at the bear. Not that Hadrian knew anything about the animal; something he would hope to hear Arielle confess over soon. He was plenty curious to learn how she’d tamed such a wild looking beast. But there was still plenty to unpack before they got to that particularly conversation…

In the meantime, Hadrian unpacked something of his own; something he’d intended to keep stowed away for a special occasion. Rummaging through his belongings he fetched a decanter. The bottle was princely indeed, made of blue, hand blown glass with a jeweled, rose topper. But for Hadrian, the true value was in the liquor it contained: An exquisite Valon Apple Brandy; one he could be sure contained no poison, as it had remained stoppered from the day he’d had it imported from the southern country. Of course, he could say the same of the wine now that he’d braved a drink of it, but he found the idea of it off putting all the same.

Hadrian held the brandy in his hands, gazing into the facets of the ornate bottle as he considered un-stoppering it now. He’d meant to present it to her family as a token of good faith, or perhaps even save it for their wedding night. But after meeting her cousin the first option lost a fair amount of its appeal, and at this rate who could even say if there’d be a wedding night? That was all the reasoning Hadrian needed to wrap it fingers about the jeweled rose and pull, opening the bottle before lifting it to his nose to breathe deep its intoxicating aroma. Pleased with the fragrance, he lifted it to his lips and let a bit of the liquor slip past them, tongue sweeping up the trace droplets that remained. It was just as delightful in taste, yet far more potent. One sip was enough to warm him up, but that didn’t keep him from heading back to his desk with bottle in tow, fetching a proper cup along the way. If he couldn’t enjoy himself with Arielle, he could at least take pleasure in such a fine spirit.

“If only there was a bit more of that venison to go with it,” he ruminated as he filled his cup. The scant portion Caius had kept aside from him was a pittance when you’d been a victim to hunger for most of the week.


While Hadrian warmed himself with the brandy, Caius the rest of his subjects relied on the large fire at the center of camp. Spirits were pretty good, all things considered. The Northern witch had returned, but she’d brought meat with her. Hatred was not forgotten, but certainly set aside as their bellies were filled, granting much needed strength to the lot of them. In fact, they hardly even noticed Arielle as she came stomping up, grabbing Caius by the shoulder and spinning him about for a little chat. Nothing surprising there, as they’d spent the evening being boisterous and telling stories. Their little camp was alive with words and laughter, their voices louder than the howling winds for a change.

Caius wasn’t nearly as mirthful as the rest; least of all once he found himself spun about and confronted by Arielle. The Shield’s hand fell to his hip, fingers wrapping around the hilt of his sword. He didn’t draw it once he realized who it was that assailed him, but the hand remained upon taking in that less than pleased expression she was sporting.

What’s happened between them now? Caius wondered, having seen Arielle enter the king’s tent some time ago. He only grew more curious once Arielle explained why she was here; even more so once she eyed the men, as though questioning them. She wanted him to keep them all away from the king, but why? His brows were knit with suspicion, but he held his tongue despite an overpowering desire to question her over the particulars of this. At the end of the day, she was right: Caius owed her. And besides, what reason did he have to suspect she would harm Hadrian after she dragged his ass back out of that blizzard? And if that wasn’t enough, she offered him trust and niceties. Though, admittedly that only made him more curious over what she was intending. Then again… Maybe he didn’t want to know.

“Very well,” he relented. “You have my word.”

Caius watched her go after that, yes tracking her through the firelight as she stalked back towards to the darkness of Hadrian’s tent, only to linger next to the bear outside of it. At that point he couldn’t see exactly what was happening, but he never took his eyes off the scene. If the Shield was confused before he was downright perplexed as he watched the two of them split off to round the tent, stopping to draw in the snow at planned intervals. It was among the strangest sights in his life, and not for the first time, he wondered whether agreeing to leave Arielle utterly alone with Hadrian was a smart decision. He was burning to head over and investigate their handiwork once Arielle slipped back inside to join the king, and he very well may have had the furry brute of a bear not lingered outside to take the Shield’s usual post.


Hadrian was nursing his brandy, sipping at it every now and then as he sat with his unfinished letter, trying to conjure up the words to finish it. He was far too distracted now though, he thoughts occupied with day’s events, not the least of those being his wild romp with Arielle in that frozen glen. More than the sex, even, Hadrian found himself focusing on the rush he felt. He could recall that wildness that gripped his heart, spurring him right out of his anger and headfirst into his passion. He could remember feeling the change at the exact moment it happened, his fingers wrapped around Arielle’s tender throat as though they wanted to squeeze the life from her, only to kiss her instead. How he would have loved to recapture that moment and do it all again…

He never thought his chance to do so would come bursting through the tent flip.

Hadrian’s head shot up at the disturbance, only to find Arielle standing there looking every bit as wild as he felt back at that glen. He wondered at that bit of blood smeared across her forehead, but even more so at that glimmer in her eye. She looked nothing like the stony, silent woman that had left his tent just minutes before. What had taken over her?

“Arielle,” he greeted her in kind, feeling a little too stunned as he sat there in his chair and watched her approach. He sat perfectly still as she neared, rounding the desk to place herself dangerously close to him. His soft green eyes watched her all the while, his curiosity piqued over this unexpected behavior of hers; especially once she explained her reasoning for leaving him so suddenly. Favors? Who exactly was she asking favors of?

“I’d hardly find it surprising,” Hadrian admitted, a slight smile tugging at his lips as she suggested the conversations his council would be having back home. “Unfortunately, I don’t think they’ll be getting word of either event until this weather clears up. I just… like to be prepared.”

But Arielle’s interest in council business was not genuine, something he was even more sure of once she explained the task Caius had been set and dropped the borrowed, now bloodied letter opener back on his desk. Hadrian’s eyes fled her to spy it where it landed, though he soon passed her a questioning gaze, which was met by her dark smirk.

“Is that so? That’s a useful trick…” He was beginning to understand where this was going, and that was enough to yank his mind away from the how of the matter. Perhaps it was best not to get caught up in the logic of it all. He’d already seen her do several things he could not explain, what was one more impossibility? He was much more interested in her figure than her blood magic, as Arielle leaned back against the desk, perching herself beside him with a mischievous gleam to her eye. His attention only left those eyes once her leg brushed against his, a most suggestive invitation that Hadrian’s body reacted to instantly. But Hadrian played it off, scooping up the discarded letter opener and leaning back casually in his chair to toy with it curiously.

A grin spread across his lips, however, giving away his casual act as she pulled the leather strip free of her hair, letting it fall freely, which only augmented her beauty. Even still, Hadrian remained in his seat, spying her from over the tips of his fingers as he twisted the tool between his fingers while minding the sharp, bloodstained edge of it. He did hope she didn’t do anything too drastic to her cousin. But then again, who was he to get in the way of a family spat? Better yet, what did he care if the man was as lewdly ambitious as she promised?

“Safety is paramount,” he had to agree. Remaining jovial and care free, Hadrian continued to lean back in his chair, attention jumping to the canvased ceiling of his tent while he pretended to think about her question. “Hmm. Let’s see…” Though he dropped the act soon enough, his eyes meeting hers again with a bright if devious grin.

“I want to drink,” he admitted, relinquishing the letter opener to one hand while he fetched his glass of brandy with the other. He took a healthy swig of it before passing it on to Arielle, encouraging her to do the same. He waited until she had partaken of the fine liquor, watching her fondly until she handed it back, where he would take another long swig before setting it aside and confessing his other desire for the night.

“And to fuck,” He told her bluntly.

Just after the admission, Hadrian drove the blade of the letter opener into the desk hard enough to leave it stuck there. An instant later he was on his feet, taking up a position in front of Arielle. She didn’t have long to react before he grabbed her up, scooping her into his arms in much the same way he had that morning back in Aquarin. Like then, he carried her, keeping a secure hold of her until they reached his bundle of soft furs. This time he did not drop her, but rather lowered himself down with her, laying her out across the furs much more courteously. That was where courtesy seemed to end, however, as the roughness of before returned. Legs were parted, hooked, and pulled, Hadrian occupying the space between them before he snatched up her wrists and pinned them down above her in a perfect imitiation of that morning. Heady gazed searched her face, eventually settling on her mismatched eyes as he held himself above her.

“But first I need to tell you the truth...” he explained, keeping her pinned down there to hear it as though he were afraid someone might snatch her away before she could. Even with her promise of undisturbed solitude, Hadrian felt as though anyone could come bursting through that tent at any moment.

“The last time I had you like this was no mind game,” Hadrian told her, hoping to perish the thought once and for all. “I lost control of myself just like I did in that forest. I only played it off because I was afraid to go through with it. I feared what would happen if you knew you had such an effect of me. And then at the lake my fears returned again, this time in the form of a potential, bastard son…” He hoped it wouldn’t sound callous, as those of the north did not keep to their societal structures or beliefs, yet it was the truth she deserved to know.

“I would be lying if I said those fears are no longer there… But I am sick of living in the shadow of them. I say fuck the laws of the tired old men who came before me. I am king now, and I want you for my queen.”

After the declaration Hadrian released her wrists, propping himself up on his knees and giving her space while he let her contemplate the fact. He would have happily torn into her then and there, but it would serve nothing if they did not clear the air first. And after all, who was to say if she would still want him after such a confession?

 

[MoldaviteGreen]

What would it be? Arielle wondered over his choice, mismatched eyes scanning sharp features as she kept against the edge of his desk, knee bent and pressed against the side of his thigh. Would Hadrian go out on a limb and take what he wanted without care? Would he finally give into this torturous chemistry that boiled between them? Would Hadrian choose to drink away the day, to sleep in peace?

Long ago, Arielle might have been able to guess what he would have picked; being a sensible man driven by duty and not ever desire. Now, however, she found herself watching a man that shared the same eyes as her childhood sweetheart, but seemed a hardened version of the boy. How curious it was that she seemed to have changed the least out of them, but perhaps it was simply testament that she had always been true to herself from the very beginning, where he had not and had, instead, been crafted by the burden of the crown.

While Arielle could be considered wickedness personified, the small smile that crept over her lips as she watched him was far from mischievous. Instead, it reached the vivid colours of her eyes, warming them with an adoring glow, as cheeks warmed with reminiscence. The face of the man before her shifted as he leant back into his seat, sea-foam eyes cast upwards at the ceiling of the tent in consideration. No longer was it war-hardened or sharply-angered, instead it was the epitome of youth as a boy no older than ten. Arielle remembered then, when she’d been bold enough to kiss his cheek, even if she feigned it as a trick to make him uncomfortable, pretending that it meant nothing at all. She remembered the blush to his cheeks, the shove at her shoulder, how she’d cackled as she’d ran off down the hallway, but hurt as she wondered whether his dismissal was one caused by dislike.

This game of theirs was nothing new. It had simply evolved.

Arielle blinked once, brought back to the present as Hadrian spoke of his wish to drink away the six hours of peace she had bargained for. She fought the urge to roll her eyes, the pair of them never having an interaction where one didn’t move for the bottle soon after. Instead, mismatched azure and jade eyes were captivated by the bob of his throat as Hadrian took a swig and a deep swallow. There was something enticingly vulnerable about a man’s exposed throat that had her leaning forward just a fraction more.

The bottle was caught by her as it was passed, admired for the briefest of seconds before she, too, took a hearty swig from the neck. The brandy rolled over tongue, the sweetness savoured with a low hum in her throat, before it was keenly swallowed. A bead was left atop her lower lip, slowly trailing towards the corner of mouth before a milky finger caught it and pressed it between soft tiers as she handed the bottle back to Hadrian. “Good choice,” she nodded, smiling cheekily. “I approve.”

As Hadrian took another swig, his own lips pressed to the neck of glass where hers had been moments prior, Arielle’s hand shifted from where it had fallen against the edge of the desk, fingertips moving to capture cheek. The side of his face smoothed into her palm, her fingers splayed over his cheekbone. Soft pad of her thumb caught the corner of his mouth, slow to sweep over the pulp of lower tier. The digit shifted with his lip as he spoke, Hadrian declaring his other desire that had Arielle growing still, eyes upon lips.

“Did you just speak plainly for the first time in your life?” Arielle grinned wolfishly, though a sparkle of admiration set her eyes alight, gaze slow to lift from his lips to meet his sea-foam eyes. Her tease seemed to go ignored, attention instead given to the letter opener that was driven harshly into the desk’s wooden top, leaving it jutting skyward. Her focus was stolen by the violence of the action, momentarily leaving his face and causing distraction; just enough that she did not watch as Hadrian rose from the chair and onto his feet.

It wasn’t until he was looming over her, those warm hands slipping between thighs and wood, that Arielle looked to him. Lips parted, the redhead about to ask what it was he’d gotten into his head for him to be acting like this, but she was silenced as he stole her from the desk, hitching her upwards and against him with fair ease. The rest was simply reflex, knees parting to allow Hadrian’s waist to slip between thighs, though tightening to keep him there as if he may try to escape. Legs extended just long enough for ankles to cross and hook over one another, locking her body against him. An arm circled around the back of his neck, fingers tangling into charcoal hair while the other hand found purchase over the space of his heart and fingers splayed.

Arielle could not find her words, nor did she want to, not wishing to break whatever spell he seemed to be under if it meant that she were able to get this close. Hadrian had made it clear back in the glen that his mind could change in an instant, and it left Arielle worried that now may be the same. If she spoke, would she wake him from this dream and it would all end?

He was slow to lower to his knees, his hold firm on Arielle before her settled her down amongst the furs beneath them. She shifted, rising onto her elbows as her hand was forced to slip from his hair, but she was soon sent falling backwards as Hadrian caught her legs and dragged her down against him. He didn’t need to fight hard, Arielle’s legs parting for him easily as he wedged himself between her thighs, her feet kicking up to cross at the ankles once more at the small of his back. A hand reached up to find the side of his face, Arielle distracted with the need to taste him, before it and its twin were stolen and pinned firmly down above her head.

A gasp left her, Arielle’s body contorting beneath him as back arched and chest rose, the heavy orbs of her breasts brushing against his shirt. As Hadrian spoke with his voice low, she swallowed, the mediocre warmth within her womb growing into something more akin to a raging firestorm. She nodded once, eyes flickering between his own and the lips that moved with quick spoken words. “What else is there to do but listen when you have me like this?” To prove a point, Arielle struggled against the hands at her wrists before she grew still. Whatever it was he had to say, she’d give him enough respect to hear it.

...a potential bastard son...

Arielle stiffened beneath him, a myriad of thoughts and realisations hitting her all at once. Should she be honest? Should she tell him the truth now and risk losing him if he didn’t understand? Should she say nothing and perhaps lose him anyway because the threat of a bastard is far too great for him to work past?

What Hadrian said after those words went unheard and unregistered, Arielle’s mind elsewhere and stuck on what he feared. She wasn’t foolish enough to think that the southerners were as carefree as those who resided in the north, typically with large families and their fair share of ‘illegitimate’ children. To speak plainly, there was no translation for such a term in her mother tongue. She could understand his fear, knew what such a thing would mean for him as King, and she knew where it likely stemmed from—not necessarily just the shame of having a child out of wedlock. Arielle was the woman who had lead the rebels, after the passing of her father, against the Crown and consequently against Hadrian. She had been the woman leading the northerners in the revolt against the monarchy and inspiring them to turn towards violence in their search for equality. How easy it would be to have a bastard child and use this as a way to overthrow Hadrian. It was a thought that hadn’t crossed her mind until now, and though it stung as she realised Hadrian had thought her potentially morally low enough to do such a thing, she understood his hesitancy.

No amount of time spent as childhood friends could do away with the years spent revolting against him and all that he stands for.

Arielle barely even registered the release of her wrists, not noticing when Hadrian sat away on his heels and gifted her space. Instead, eyes were cast upwards at the canvas ceiling, her gaze pained as she realised that her fight for her people’s freedom did more than just destroy a country. Lips were slow to move and form words, the breath inaudible as she whispered; “I don’t want to lose you.”

A split second later, Arielle shot to sit bolt upright, her legs draped over his own and feet still hooked together against the small of his back as she sat close to his bent knees. There was no sneer upon her lips, no taunt that he was mad to consider her as a potential queen, a worthy wife. There was nothing but tender sadness as she reached for his face with both hands.

Fingers slipped over the angle of his jaw, splayed, as thumbs came to sweep over his cheeks, Arielle looking somber as she considered what he had declared to her, and what she had been thinking. “You speak as if you have absolutely no effect on me, Hadrian, and that isn’t the truth at all.” The furs shifted beneath her as Arielle scooted forward, drawing herself as close to him as she could physically manage. In a rare display of vulnerability, Arielle’s typical act of seductress was dropped; leaving, instead, in its wake nothing more than a young woman scared to lose someone she never really had. “These games we play....” she smiled softly, “while fun on occasion, have gotten to my head and it seems like they have gotten to your’s, too.”

The smile disappeared, Arielle swallowing as her mouth grew suddenly dry, her eyes averting down to her lap. “It hurts to think that you consider me low enough to use something like that against you, but considering all that I have done, I could hardly blame you for thinking me capable.” Ankles uncrossed, her legs falling by the wayside before Arielle shifted, hitching herself up to kneel either side of his legs. Her weight settled atop thighs, Arielle not quite sitting upon his lap, but not hovering either as she loosed a hand from his cheek and threaded it instead into thick hair at the base of his skull. Chest to chest, Arielle tilted her head forward kissing Hadrian’s own with her blood-smeared forehead. “After all, I have done disposable things against the crown all these years, it wouldn’t be past me to use a potential bastard son to undermine you. I’d likely do it, too, if I didn’t love you.”

Her breath was held within lungs as she released she’d spoken perhaps a little too bluntly, revealing to Hadrian something that she wasn’t sure he was ready to hear yet, or that she was ready to express. Cheeks flushed with the open admission, Arielle closing eyes before she released a breath that was scented with brandy, the rush of warm air tickling Hadrian’s mouth that was only an inch away from plush lips.

“I lost sight of you in my grief, in the anger that I felt when we were pushed out of Aquarin, and then with the loss of my father.” Arielle held him close, an arm weaving around his middle to fist at his shirt at the small of his back while fingers loosed and combed through dark hair. “I blamed your family for all of it, and once your father was dead, you were all that was left in his place. I thought you would be different, I hoped and prayed that you wouldn’t be the same; but in my grief, all I could see was you stepping into his shoes and making the same mistakes. How could I blame you, when you were raised on prejudice and paranoia, at least in your later years? I couldn’t, I shouldn’t have, but I did.”

The cool tip of her nose brushed against his, Arielle shifting her face to the side for a brief second before straightening to lean away, meeting his eyes with her own. “It was easy to blame you, just as it was easy to revolt against you when all I had to do was discard the person I knew as a child and imagine him as a monster. My vision of you became so twisted, so monstrous, that even while I had to reason with myself as to why I was rebelling against you and yours at the beginning, it became second nature. You were no longer the Hadrian I chased in the halls and teased and taunted. You were a Hadrian that I no longer knew and could not recognise.”

Hand remained fisted in the shirt at his back, clutching to him almost desperately as Arielle spoke honestly, her other hand falling from his hair to press against the space over his heart. “But, Hadrian,” she murmured, “a bastard son is something you do not need to fear, not with me, just as it isn’t something I would exploit even if it was.” Fingers splayed, Arielle’s forehead smacked into his own, as if in defeat. “I don’t want to lose you. I’m torn. Do I tell you the truth that will have you leaving me? Or do I lie, have you fear something you don’t need to, and lose you to paranoia?”

A small, tight-lipped smile pulled at her lips for the briefest of seconds before she pulled her hands away. Mouth found purchase at the corner of Hadrian’s own, the kiss tender and lingering, although brief. With a pat on his shoulder, Arielle announced with good humour; “Where’s that bottle? I need more liquor.” She rose to stand above him, padding off slowly towards the desk where she snatched the bottle of brandy from its top. Shoulders slumped a fraction, Arielle not realising that she had grown tense as she’d divulged so much, a breath released between shaking lips. The neck was lifted, a long swig taken, before she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and turned to Hadrian with an unsure smile.

She was quick to return to him, settling down into the furs before him with legs parted to create a V either side of his thighs with Hadrian in the centre. The bottle was set down between them, Arielle’s eyes lingering upon it for several seconds more before she looked to Hadrian with a sparkle of something unnamed in her eyes. “You wanted to drink and to fuck, yes?” She nodded towards the brandy. “There are other ways to fuck that won’t result in a bastard child, even if that’s something you don’t have to fear with me. Just as there’s plenty of ways to keep seed from reaching womb.”

Mismatched eyes sparkled with mischief, a hand reaching out to shove roughly at his shoulder, Arielle lunging at him and forcing him backwards into the furs. Bottle of brandy was knocked out of the way. Though Arielle was slight in stature, she was war hardened, body built from lean muscle that gifted her enough ability to be able to throw Hadrian backwards into the furs and gracefully climb above him. Knees dug into the soft nest either side of his flanks, the plush of Arielle’s ass smoothing across Hadrian’s lap as she straddled him.

Fingers grappled at the buckles of his belt and trousers, doing away with both with surprising ease. Cotton was shoved away, the blunt of fingernails dragging over his stomach before the warmth of hand dipped into briefs. What she found within had Arielle grinning wickedly, tongue sweeping over her lips as she curled fingers about thick, pulsatile girth. Hadrian was granted a stroke of his cock, her grip upon him tight, before hand twisted on the uprise before plunging down. Other hand caught the side of his face, a thumb under his jaw to keep his eyes upon her own as she purred devilishly; “Welcome to the North, baby, where anything goes.”

 

[Fates.Gamble]

The way Arielle stiffened beneath him gave Hadrian pause, his seafoam eyes searching the mixed pools of her own as he wondered at her thoughts. The heavy silence that took her was even more worrisome, but he dared not break it. Patience was sure to serve best, even if those quiet moments were spent pondering whether or not their differing customs would be the wedge that drove them apart. Hadrian knew that the matter of legitimacy meant little to the people of the north, and were they any other couple the southerners weren’t like to care much either. But custom was everything when it came to Eirlea’s throne and who sat upon it. Tradition was the only way to ensure their continued rule on peaceful terms.

Hadrian felt nothing of his previous fears now, however, the idea of Arielle’s rejection replacing them once her gaze fled, dual eyes searching the canvas above them instead. He wondered what she would decide, hands resting idly by his sides despite his burning desire to explore her body with them. How he would have loved to leave all this unsaid; to have swept her off her feet the moment she came through that tent flap, and silence any potential talk by pressing his lips to hers. But Hadrian knew that the only way forward was to put it out there now, lest it continue to hold him back in the midst of their passion.

His patience would bear fruit eventually, Arielle admitting to her own feelings before bolting upright, legs still wrapped about him as she sat up to face him. Hadrian watched her intently, un-moving as she reached out to take a gentle hold of his face. Oh, he was quite certain he had an effect on her. Several, in fact. The way she was practically straddling his lap now was evidence of one effect. The several years she’d spent raiding his lands and ravaging his army, however, was the result of another. Their ‘games’ were every bit as dangerous as they were fun. Though, Hadrian often got the impression that danger and fun weren’t so different for the woman shuffling herself closer to him.

A fair assessment, Hadrian thought once Arielle suggested things had gone to their heads, though he found himself too stricken to speak, especially once her smile faded away. The words that followed were even more paralyzing, a lump forming in Hadrian’s throat as she called him out on his considerations. ‘It’s not just that.’ is what he wanted to tell her; to plead his case and explain how, just as easily, his own council could use such a scandal to harm them in the long run. But, Hadrian knew that to say as much would serve only to appease his own guilt over having thought of her in the same way. That guilt left him the distracted one now, her affections hardly noticed while Arielle pulled herself closer, the warmth of her body pressed fully into his now. But Arielle found a way to steal his attention back.

Hadrian’s eyes leapt up, taking stock of Arielle at her most sudden and unexpected confession. If her words from before were paralytic, these were downright crippling. Her breath caught, cheeks flushing the moment she said it, while Hadrian felt as thought his veins ran with ice water, freezing him to the spot.

Love…

Hadrian never expected to hear such an admission, even if they were to marry. While he’d always hoped to love to woman he took for queen, he’d long ago accepted the reality that his position.Few if any of his ancestors had married for love. Even his proposal to Arielle was born of political necessity, not his personal feelings for her. But things were evolving, and quicker than he ever dared expect at that. It was a struggle just processing it, let alone knowing how to respond. He could only keep her gaze and listen, the warmth of her breath, laced with the sweet scent of brandy tickling across his lips. Their closeness warmed him, the iciness that the conversation brought to his veins melting away while Arielle held him closer, her slender fingers threading into his ink-black hair.

How similar their stories, cruelly penned by authors beyond their control. Just as Arielle was left with no one to blame but Hadrian, she was all that remained to bear his own contempt. We should have ended this war then, Hadrian thought while Arielle paused, the cool tip of her nose brushing against his own before she pulled back to take him in. He could only imagine how different their world might have been, had they seen more clearly through their grief. The end of this conflict should have been the silver lining in the wake of their loss. Instead, they committed their fathers to the ground whilst keeping the violence they represented alive and well

So what changed? Hadrian had to wonder, failing to speak the words while he considered Arielle’s shift in perception. Had his proposal been enough to transform him from a monstrous tyrant into a man she could love? Were the past two weeks truly enough to decide such; especially when the majority of that time was spent taking on step forward and two steps back? It was terrifying to think Arielle could be so sure, but Hadrian also found himself envious. The way she could follow her heart, trusting in her instincts… It was a new concept to Hadrian, who spent the better part of his days contemplating nigh every little thing from every which angle, all the while anticipating the rippling effect it would have on those surrounding him. But perhaps she was not as free with her feelings as he thought…

“What do you mean?” He asked of her proposed dilemma, the meeting of their foreheads preventing him from searching her eyes. “What truth?” Never mind his own apprehensions, now his curiosity was piqued. Yet, Arielle was not as forthcoming as he might have hoped, her kiss purposely missing his lips before she pulled away and asked after the brandy. Inquisitive eyes followed her as she moved to retrieve it, though Hadrian did not press the issue. Hadrian was, after all, reserved at the best of times. To demand anything else of another would make him little more than a hypocrite. But that made him no less curious as he drank her in, the noting her tension despite the liquor to loosen things up. Even her smile was uncertain as she turned back to face him.

Hadrian’s questioning eyes never left Arielle, even as he shifted to sit more comfortably while she returned to the plant herself before him again, placing the liquor bottle in the space now left between them. It didn’t sit for long, however, Hadrian swiping it up at Arielle’s insistence.

“I did,” he said, lifting the bottle in confirmation.

Whatever Arielle’s reservations, she was still onboard for such activities. More than, Hadrian realized, her suggestive words hitting Hadrian’s ears while he was mid-sip from the bottle. He might have choked on his liquor had he not been such a seasoned drinker, but that sparkle of mischief in her eyes still managed to cut him off with a hard swallow that burned all the way down. It wasn’t as though he needed education on such ways of fucking, but few women were so brazen about it. At least not the ones he didn’t have to pay for…

Arielle’s brazenness didn’t end there. Hadrian found himself shoved to his back before he could so much as reply, his practiced drinker’s hand keeping any of the fine brandy from spilling even as he was attacked and uprooted. His head propped up, a surprised yet delighted grin beaming up at Arielle while she moved up to straddle him, taking back all of the control he’d displayed over her lately. Once settled down upon his lap, she wasted no time in grappling with his belt and trappings, and after all the build up and denial between them it took little more than that to excite him. His erection sprung up to meet the resistance of his trousers even before Arielle managed to do away with them.

Hadrian’s head fell away, dropping back to the furs as he felt Arielle’s blunt nails gliding across his stomach, the sensation bringing tingles to his skin. Tingles quickly turned to a flood of warmth, Hadrian sucking in a sharp breath once her hands dipped lower, her exploring fingers quickly wrapping about the girth of his cock. He responded at once to her touch, marble length growing firmer still to throb in her grip. A soft utterance of his enjoyment breaking out once Arielle began to stroke him, though his lips curled into a devilish grin as Arielle reached out to coax his attention back to her face. His eyes bore a wild look to match her own, his grin widening at her words.

“I couldn’t think of a warmer welcome,” he thought, easily forgiving the North its bitter, cold atmosphere in light of its other pleasures. Hadrian had no issue in relishing them, either, his attention shortly broken to take another drink of brandy, which he savored alongside Arielle’s ministrations. He was perfectly content to lie back and enjoy for a spell, the mix of insobriety and stimulation rendering his mind to a delightful haze soon enough. Bottom lip was sucked in, his tongue tracing over it to taste the remnants of liquor that persisted there. He drank Arielle in just as readily, eyes watching her every movement while she endeavored to introduce him to her Northern ways. But Hadrian was not one to remain idle for long, and after the way he so abruptly denied her earlier in the day, he was hardly the one deserving of such devoted attention.

The king weathered her assistance long enough for another swallow of brandy before he set the bottle down beside the furs, and pulled himself up and Arielle away from her distractions so that he could strike with all the selfsame eagerness she’d displayed. Hadrian’s lips hungrily found hers, engaging her in a deep kiss made even sweeter by the taste of Valon orchards lingering on their breath. His tongue sought hers, initiating a brief dance even while his hands sought the hem of her top. Their kiss was broken all together once he had a hold of it, the two of them pried apart by the garment as he pulled it up and off, carelessly throwing it aside once he hand unhindered access to the creamy flesh it concealed.

Hadrian pulled Arielle into another heated kiss, warm hands roaming the milky planes of her body as his arms came to wrap around her, holding her close. It was a short embrace, as before long his hands fled one another, soft fingertips gliding across her back, undeterred by the scars which occasionally broke the smoothness of her skin. Eventually they came to rest upon her shoulders, a light push steadily coaxing Arielle back until Hadrian had her lying across the furs once more. Only then did he break their kiss, lips shying away from her own to press at the corner of her mouth before trailing across her jawline to kiss upon her neck instead.

He found her scent every bit as intoxicating as the brandy as he breathed her in, his lips leaving a burning trail across her neck, down towards shoulder and collarbone. He lingered there a moment, wet tongue peeking out relish the salty sweet taste of her skin. The peppery trail left in the wake of his mouth continued, soft lips and moist tongue flitting across the mound of her breasts and taut, rose-blush nipples. Hadrian went further down still, body shifting to lower himself and his kisses becoming more purposeful as they traveled down her stomach, towards the hem of her pants.

Hadrian reared up once he reached the end of her exposed body, seafoam eyes flashing deviously as he looked down at Arielle, her red hair resting about her as though it were a burning halo. Those eyes remained locked with her own as he took her by the hips, fingers hooking into the hem of her trousers and tugging them down her creamy hips and smooth legs, stripping her bare. The pants were tossed away, left to join the rest in a pile on the floor. The remainder of Hadrian’s was added soon after, the King pulling the last of his garb up overhead to expose the rest of his chiseled body.

In the sudden heat that erupted between them before, Hadrian hadn’t left much time to admire Arielle’s body, but he made up for that now. Eyes roamed her body with ravenous approval, drinking in every inch of her as he remained looming above. But as ever, the greatest allure remained her dual eyes. They were a pair unlike any Hadrian had ever seen, and they sucked him in as assuredly as ever, his own seafoam orbs glittering with his captivation and desire as he reached out to cup her face, his thumb gliding across the pulp of her lower to let it close with a little plop before he slid. His hand moved away, however, once his eyes glanced her throat, spying there the ghost of his touch from earlier. Fingers instinctively returned to their position, his hand reclaiming her soft throat, albeit it with a much gentler, more apologetic grip than before.

Hadrian released her a moment later, hand moving away as he lowered himself, and pressed a couple of soft kisses there instead. But his apologetic nature didn’t last long, a devious flash of his eyes meeting Arielle’s before he returned to his course from earlier, his soft lips warming Arielle’s exposed body on his way down, back across her toned belly, feeling it fall and rise with her breath. Down still he went, lips partaking in a brief expedition across her hips and pubis before Hadrian took hold of Arielle’s legs and maneuvered them, head dipping down between her thighs to kiss there instead. Teasingly, his lips ventured her inner thigh, seeming to land everywhere but the plump, rose-pink lips of her core that came to be the center of his attention soon enough.

Letting Arielle’s thighs rest over his shoulders, Hadrian dove right in, a soft kiss pressed to her moist, plump lips before his long, flat tongue came to part them. The sweet ambrosia within moistened his palate, bringing about a little hum of enjoyment while Hadrian tasted her. Eager to please, he held nothing back, feasting with abandon as his attention drifted further up, his mouth seeking out her sensitive nub to lavish with attention.

 

[MoldaviteGreen]

The cool tip of nose brushed against the sharp edge of cheekbone, grazing along the edge of his face before it lifted away from flushed skin and was replaced, instead, by the lick of warm breath against the shell of exposed ear. “I’m sure...” scorching tongue slid from within mouth, tracing the shape of Hadrian’s ear before flicking teasingly against the soft lobe, “...that a man as devilish as you can think of many other, warmer ways to be welcomed.” Hadrian needn’t see her face, the wicked smirk upon her lips was set in her voice as a sultry lilt. Arielle might have even gone on to show him should he have lain still enough beneath her.

The soft lobe of Hadrian’s ear was coaxed by tongue within the heat of oral cavity, slipping just beyond plush lips to be nibbled upon by the sharp edges of teeth. Arielle’s bite was as equally playful as it was enticing, the seductress yanking on his ear firm enough that when she released the lobe it came with a wet pop from between her lips.

The hand that toyed with the pulsatile muscle within her grasp did not dare grow still. Grip was not loose enough that Hadrian could barely feel her touch, but neither was it tight enough to gift him the pleasure that came with inward pressure upon the downstroke. Their game had begun as a tease and even still, as Arielle moved to make him bare, she refused to give in entirely and reveal her cards.

Warm lips brushed over beating pulse point just below Hadrian’s ear, the kiss lingering a second longer before she purred sweetly into his ear. “Or would you like me to show you?” The flat of her tongue found the side of his throat, dragging over flush skin to leave behind a scorching smear of saliva. The pad of thumb caught the dewy droplet of arousal that began to roll over tip and along veined shaft, smearing it over the swollen ridges as Arielle toyed with him cruelly.

It was then that she saw the bottle of brandy being finally set down, Hadrian’s mind clearly elsewhere than the liquor he previously seemed unable to release. Watching from the corners of dual eyes, knees tucked tight against his ribs, she watched from over the angle of his throat as she kept mouth hovering over pulse point. Arielle nuzzled the square of Hadrian’s jaw as she smirked against dark stubble. “Unless you have other ideas of how you would like to spend the next few hours of uninterrupted peace?”

Hadrian’s sudden shift beneath her set Arielle off balance, forced backwards onto his lap as he rose to sit, legs extended still beneath her. The weight of her settled atop his thighs, hand slipping from within trousers to release the muscle she teased so carefully, and instead coming to rest against chest as she caught herself against him. Copper brows drew together, it very clear that Arielle had enjoyed her position of power above him and all that it yielded, only for it now to be stolen back and placed squarely in the hands of the man that handled her with expert ease. Arielle’s lips parted, a breath taken in ready to object for whatever it was he had planned next, but Hadrian did not allow her to expel warm air in disapproving words.

Instead, mouth found purchase over her own, claiming that breath as his as it escaped her in a soft mewl of pleasure. The hand upon his chest shifted, slipping upwards over the back of neck to thread fingers into dark hair, fingernails dragging lightly over scalp as she clung to him. It was no use lying, Arielle decided. Hadrian had to be a blind and deaf fool if he hadn’t already figured it out for himself just how badly she craved him. Teeth parted, jaw opening enough of a fraction to allow the meat of his tongue to slip within her mouth, greeted by the sultry swirl of her own in welcome. Hadrian tasted just as she thought, like the sweet brandy he had been swigging on, edged with something more akin to woodsmoke.

Words were useless to her now, their game evolving beyond sultry teased and cheeky jests. As Hadrian’s hands slid down her the curve of her waist to capture the hem of simple shirt, Arielle gasped as he parted their lips and did away with the cotton, discarding it as if it offended him, leaving her bare beneath the amber glow of candlelight.

Milky skin was far from unmarred, silvery scars and the rose-tone of those more fresh decorating limbs and middle even where bronze freckles didn’t dare paint. Like a body sculpted from churned cream, Arielle looked as if she’d very easily disappear within the snow, save for the markings upon her skin. With the rise of her shirt had come the heavy bounce of her breasts as they fell from the pull of the cotton, rounded and pert in shape. They shifted now even as she sat relatively still, the motion of her hand falling from his hair to settle at the back of his neck enough to cause one to ripple. Nipples were a shade of blushed rose, erect against the chill of the tent and the arousal that had long ago stirred within her.

Hadrian had seen all of this before, down by the frozen lake while the wolves feasted upon the buck he’d hunted but had been unable to snag. Hadrian had seen it all and yet she still felt the linger of his gaze track over every inch of her. What was that look in his eye? Disapproval at the scars left behind by sword edges and tips of blade? Wonder at how skin could be so milky pale that it almost seemed to glow? What was Hadrian thinking of as he looked upon her now, bare above the waist for him to see?

Hadrian gave her less than a second to contemplate his thoughts, as if he knew that such a thing would lead her mind to places neither of them wished to visit. If Arielle had learned anything at all, it was never to assume his thoughts aligned with what she saw in his eyes.

Cream skin rose in goosebumps as warm hands settled against her skin, smearing across her back as Hadrian pulled her close to his chest and dragged knees across furs to have her tighter. Fingers curled around the back of his neck, squeezing at the thick ropes of muscle as she succumbed to the warmth of his embrace. The trace of his touch across her back had her shivering pleasantly, mismatched eyes closing behind dark lashes as she sighed softly through her nose. There seemed to be no rush in his touch, Hadrian taking his time as he handled her, and it had Arielle curling her toes tightly enough that they cramped.

Arielle didn’t fight against the firm suggestion of his hands, allowing weight to slowly fold backwards and legs to shift forwards until she was laying atop the furs once more; right where Hadrian had had her. Breath hitched as she remembered the hands at her wrists, Hadrian having held her down to keep her from moving and ignoring what he had to say, forcing the wild woman to intently listen.

“Hadr—”

Chin rose, baring slender neck to him as Hadrian delved mouth to the side of her throat, the kisses landing there easily mistaken as tender. Her knees drew in against his hips as she welcomed him above him, Arielle uncharacteristically light-headed and giddy as lips brushed against her pulse and the sweep of her shoulder. A kiss pressed there, where neck met the slope of shoulder, had Arielle’s back arching from the fur, hand fisting in his hair and breath escaping her in a low, wanton moan.

If Hadrian was to play to same card he had by the lake, with the goal to stop amidst spine-tingling pleasure, Arielle would have his balls served to Urso on a plate for breakfast.

Her skin became feverish, burning scolding hot as Hadrian gifted her with a smooth trail of torturously gentle kisses along the smooth of her belly. Heated breath tickled erect nipple, swollen with desperate need to be taken inside of mouth that went ignored. The next kiss to her belly had Arielle shivering, mind becoming numb with pleasure while body relished in it. Only when chin brushed the skin just above the waistband of her trousers did Arielle finally release inky hair, one hand already fisted in the fur beside her hip and the other now tossed back to comb through the wild curls of her hair.

Hadrian’s sudden movement upwards, sitting back upon his heels, had Arielle gritting her teeth in fear of repeat. Mismatched eyes narrowed in suspicion, Arielle about to sit herself upright before she felt fingers curl within the hem of her trousers and tug with enough force to swiftly pull the garment down over hips and toned thighs.

By the gods, so help me if he plays me like before...

First foot was pulled from pant leg, then the second, Arielle unmodestly laying bare before him atop the furs. There was a shine to her eyes, something bestial and primal as she watched Hadrian kneel between her thighs. A leg lifted, a coy smile playing across her lips as she brushed the pad of big toe across his upper arm, the motion slow and languid, exposing the apex of her thighs to him.

She knew what he would see, swollen lips so engorged from arousal they kept her entry sealed and mostly hidden from him. A silvery sheen glistened, smeared on the insides of her thighs, Arielle unable to hide the liquid arousal that came as steady a flow as her need for him.

The touch of warm hand against her cheek had Arielle growing still, the burning lust dying infinitesimally only to be replaced by something far more tender. As calloused palm cupped the side of her face, mismatched eyes warmed within tender adoration, Arielle nuzzling into the heat of his hand before she closed her eyes for a brief moment. She could stay there like this forever. Warm sigh escaped her lips, tiers that were soon captured by the pad of thumb as it toyed with the plush pulp of her lower. Eyes opened, however, when palm fell away only to soon clasp at the narrow of her throat; his grip firm but far from restrictive. Copper brow rose in silent question, Arielle unable to find her voice. He’d held her tightly by the lake, almost throttled the life from her, how interesting it was that his hand would return with something far softer in mind.

Arielle tilted chin upwards, expecting his lips to meet with her own, though they soon parted in a disappointed moan as Hadrian instead pressed a flurry of kisses across her throat and chest. Back arched sharply, almost violently, with the crown of her head pressing into the fur as breasts rose towards exploring mouth, begging. Still, nipples were left ignored, the growing heat in her womb becoming painful as arousal grew, inspiring a droplet of silvery dew to fall along the seam of her core.

Spine only straightened as Hadrian captured her legs, tossing them over broad shoulders as mouth surveyed the flare of her hips. Arielle wanted to beg him to bite the bones there, to nibble her flesh to have her moaning, but she kept silent and instead snagged the flesh of her lower lip between teeth and bit roughly. She’d let Hadrian have her how he wished, without interruption, if only to see how cruel he could be to them both.

Yet, as the flat of Hadrian’s tongue ventured between the dew-coated lips of her pussy, Arielle contorted. Hand ripped from her hair and dove into Hadrian’s own, the fingers curling within dark strands to grip at his scalp roughly. Toes curled against his back, knees bent over his shoulders as she struggled to keep them from pressing inwards against the sides of his face. Jaw was slack as her mouth opened, the air stolen from her lungs as scorching tongue dove within her core, Hadrian tasting all her pussy had to offer. The hand fisted in the furs was white-knuckled with firm grip, Arielle already beginning to twitch against his tongue as he flicked muscle over the erect nub of her clit.

“Aupa izorratu.....” her curse came loud, unmistakable from outside the tent, earning a ursine grumble from by the tent opening.

Arielle shifted, propping herself upright on one elbow as she combed fingers through his hair. She needed to watch him. She needed to see those stormy sea-foam eyes as he feasted between her thighs, as if should she look away she’d realise this was all a dream. There was a burning in her eyes, the colours more vivid than ever and lit from within, flecked even with gold as she kept her gaze upon Hadrian’s face, not daring to look away.

A flick of tongue against her opening had Hadrian rewarded with a gush of sweet sap, liquid coating his chin as Arielle bit harder into her lower lip and moaned. The thighs over his shoulders spasmed, her body twitching with little control as she was set aflame. Already she was so close, left on edge from the abrupt stop by the lake. A split second more and Hadrian would have her grinding down upon his mouth, writhing in euphoria.

But Arielle instead stubbornly tugged upon his hair, pulling his mouth from her pussy just enough that she was able to slide from beneath him and catch his face in her hands. Lips crushed violently against his, tongue sweeping forward to taste herself and the brandy upon his lips before she parted and pressed bloodied forehead to his and begged with a breathless murmur; “I need more than your tongue, Hadrian, however fucking wonderful it may be.” Burning blue and green fire bore into his eyes. “Let me ride you, Hadrian.” Tongue swept across his lips, capturing a droplet of her essence as she grinned as she added; “Please.”

 

[Fates.Gamble]

It appeared as though Hadrian had frustrated his copper haired lover in more ways than one, if Arielle’s knit brows and hitched breath were anything to go by. She’d clearly enjoyed her place on top, yet it was every bit like the king of the south to hold on to his power, wrestling her back down into a position below him. Old habits died hard it seemed, but the ensuing power struggle was far sweeter than their conflict over the North. Even so, Hadrian found ways to deny her as staunchly as he had in the war, his incessant teasing threatening to consume what uninterrupted time Arielle had bought them.

Hadrian knew her full well knew her true desires, but that devilish nature she spoke of had come to bear, and he was curious to know how long it would take for the dam to burst; how long before Arielle found herself pleading out her desire once more? Or perhaps this time he’d manage coax the rebel out of her, forcing her to steal back the control and take what she wanted from him. Such sweet cruelty knew no bounds as his tongue continued its work, the wet muscle pressing flat to undulate against Arielle’s clit. Hadrian’s lips pulled into a wicked smile, his efforts doubled once she reached down and snatched up a handful of his hair.

Bright eyes swept up to meet her expression, untold deviousness reflected in his own. It drove him wild to see those mismatched eyes sparking with lust and pleasure, her reactions sending a chill through his body that left his cock stiffer than ever. Worse yet, the warm honey between her legs only served to remind him of how it felt to be swallowed into that tight, wet embrace. Hadrian thought he was in control, yet all the teasing in the world didn’t matter when Arielle could render him powerless merely by presence. Yet, he remained determined, stealing away his gaze to focus on the task at hand, lest she draw him into the next stage of this game before he reached his goal.

Hadrian knew Ari was close from her quivering thighs, as well as the heavenly nectar that came springing forth, wetting his mouth and chin. Arielle’s body tensed as though she’d lost all control of it, and her lover had every intention of taking advantage of that by going in for the kill. Yet before he could so much as lift a finger, Hadrian felt the grip on his hair tighten, followed by a firm tug which wrenched him away from his delicacy. He hadn’t the time to complain about it before Arielle’s lips were crushing against his own, her tongue breaking free to raid his mouth and savor her own, lingering taste. It was brief, but intense enough to leave him breathless and lightheaded, as their kisses were wont to do. His heart was quickened, blood heated as he looked into her burning eyes and heard her confession, followed by her request.

Hadrian’s lips pulled into a grin in the wake of Arielle’s tongue sweeping across them. Her sultry little ‘please’ was not quite as pleading as the one that came out at the lake, but they’d come full circle now. But unlike before, Hadrian had no intention of denying her wants this time.

“And here I thought you might be patient for once, what with all that time you bought us,” he mock complained, as though the very idea of finally giving in didn’t send a bittersweet throb across his entire body. “But I suppose I’ve kept you waiting long enough, haven’t I?”

In fact he’d already drawn back, separating their bodies just enough to do away with his own clothing. The space was stolen back no sooner than his shirt came up and over his head, Hadrian seeking the warmth of her luscious body as the residing chill settled across his bare torso. One arm wrapped around her waist, keeping her pressed against him while the other worked to free himself of his trousers. It wasn’t the most gracious task, what with a woman in his lap, but made a whole lot easier thanks to her wandering hand having loosened them earlier.

The North sought to remind Hadrian of where he sat once his clothes and furs were done away with, the low flame of the fire and Arielle’s heated body the only things to stave off the bitter cold. But Hadrian found that easy enough to ignore once he captured Arielle’s face, callused fingers sliding around to the back of her neck as he pulled her in for a kiss that warmed his blood right back up. As their lips met, their tongues grappling over their latest game of chase, his free hand worked its way down, seeking out the marble hard length of his manhood.

Trusting Ari to shift into position with him, Hadrian took hold of his cock at the base and swept it upwards, running the smooth head of his dick across the slick, velvety lips of her pussy, and parting them with ease. With as wet as he’d gotten her before, his cock slipped right into her tight channel, squeezing around him as tightly as one would an embrace a long lost loved one. Hadrian couldn’t hold back the sultry moan that came rumbling from his throat as he penetrated her, his hard dick pulsing against her walls with pent up joy. After such denial he felt as though he could burst in an instant, but he held back that joy, and distracted himself with another round of Ari’s soft lips and sweet mouth.

She’d requested to ride him and as promised, Hadrian gave Arielle the reins for now. But he was ever greedy for her, hips working in tandem to grind his cock deeper into her pussy every time she would come down upon it. But mostly he was happy to lean back and enjoy the pale skinned beauty riding on his dick, the sight of which was every bit as pleasing as the act itself. Arielle knew how to use her body, every gesture building upon Hadrian’s arousal without even trying. His hands found themselves glued to the luscious orbs of her full ass, gripping tight while he succumbed to her heavy tits bouncing in his face, his mouth and tongue eager to shower them with affection even as they jumped about. Eventually, however, he was flustered enough to grasp one in hand, holding the soft mound still long enough that he could lick suck, and bite to his heart’s content.

Hadrian submitted his control for as long as he was able, but it was only a matter of time before the regal nature in him came out. His hips grew to be greedier still, picking up the tempo to thrust himself harder and deeper into the redhead. His cock throbbed, almost painfully stiff with pleasure, egging him on further. Before long he’d snatched up a handful of her flowing red hair and yanked downward, forcing wrenching Arielle’s head back to expose her soft, tender throat, which Hadrian relentlessly attacked with his mouth. Slow, wet kisses trailed their away across her throat and the side of her neck, down to her collarbone which Hadrian bit into, near as merciless as the sudden thrust of his hips.

 

[MoldaviteGreen]

The corner of mouth twitched with the beginnings of a smug smile, the kind that reached up into those mismatched eyes and made them twinkle with wickedness. “I bought us several hours, my love,” Arielle leant forward, brushing soft tiers against his cheek as she purred into his ear, “for several rounds. I’m a woman with great appetite, you see, and you have only yourself to blame for opening the flood gates. Patience has nothing to do with it, but need does.” Soft lobe of an ear was caught between teeth, nibbled and pulled before suckled wantonly as she grinned. Hadrian unleashed something within her down by the lake, something that she had been able to rein in and control. She didn’t have the energy any longer to keep it contained and hidden, her thirst for him unquenchable.

As Hadrian leant away to allow himself the space needed to be rid of his clothes, Arielle soon followed. Gathering her legs beneath her to fold and tuck against the outer edges of Hadrian’s thighs, she assumed position over his lap. Knees tucked in tight just beyond his hips, the inner flesh of her thighs squeezing at the tensed muscle of his front and flanks as she held herself to him. Hands shoved at the fabric he drew over his head, just as desperate as he to be rid of the cotton. Arielle was selfish in her needs, and her most primal in this moment was to have nothing between them but skin and sleek perspiration.

The broad arm that wrapped about her middle, holding her tightly to his chest, had Arielle dissolving into his body heat. A sigh escaped her from between parted lips, as her own arm wound about the back of his neck for finger to thread up into inky tresses of thick hair. Blunt nails scraped lightly over scalp, her touch upon him far more gentler than the rough it had been, though the motion remained somewhat possessive still. Arielle quickly became distracted by the bare olive flesh before her as Hadrian fought with his trousers, the lover upon him shifting forward to pillow heavy breasts to his pectorals. Mouth found purchase against the sweep of collarbone, lips pressing lightly against the golden skin pulled taut over narrow bone. Supple tiers parted, the wet and scorching muscle snaking out from the warm cavern of her mouth to sweep over flesh and leave goosebumps in its wake. Arielle’s kisses scattered sideways across the breadth of his shoulder, until lips lingered atop the sweep of the tense muscle of the arm that bound her tightly to him. It was then that she bit down upon him, muscle and sinew gathered between teeth and held tightly enough that both were forced to relax under the tight pressure.

Calloused fingers curled about the back of her neck, thumb at base of skull as Hadrian pulled her face from his shoulder and brought her lips to his. Arielle was like putty in his hands, easily guided and easily distracted, her own fingers tightening in the thick locks of his hair caught between digits. His arm still snaked about her, the blare of his forearm pressed to her shoulder blade as she shifted against him. Arielle left little space for the marble hard flesh caught between their grinding hips, Hadrian’s lover unable to remain still with the growing intensity of her desire. Knuckles brushed against the smooth plane of her stomach, causing a sharp intake of breath as lips momentarily broke, before she dove tongue deep into his mouth to tangle with his own slick muscle.

Hadrian was right to assume that Arielle would work in tandem with him. Hardened nipples dragged against chest as breasts were smoothed against golden skin in her slow rise. Weight shifted down into bent knees, Arielle pinning more of herself to her lover as her neck arched at an angle to maintain the deep, wanton kiss. The kiss didn’t break once, not even as the slick and silken lips of Arielle’s core were parted with the playful sweeps of plush tip of cock. Arielle only pulled her lips, releasing the lower pulp of Hadrian’s own that she had snagged between teeth, as the clench of tight muscles were speared by the first few inches of his hard length.

Forehead fell against Hadrian’s, her breath hitching, as nose rubbed against nose. Mismatched eyes closed, dark lashes brushing against Hadrian’s own. A low moan left her, a mewl of pleasure that could be so easily confused as one of pain. It was one of relief of finally being filled by Hadrian, a man that may have taken her by the lake but gave her little to show for it. There was something very different between having core drilled between hard body and tree, and the slow but deep penetration of now as Arielle allowed the weight in her knees to drop her down upon Hadrian’s marble hard cock.

The textured walls of her pussy instinctively clenched down upon welcome intruder, suckling the plush head deeper to smoosh against cervix. Arielle, seated upon her lover’s thighs, remained momentarily still as Hadrian was gripped tightly inside of her, buried balls deep in a channel warm enough to be confused as being filled with molten lava. A head of silvery liquid dribbled from stretched hole, the thin pink lips drawn thin and wide about thick base. With a lazy roll of her hips, she felt the innards of her belly shift about the speared invasion, her womb sitting high with her arousal. But just as she rose a fraction upon him, so too did those clenched muscle tighten as an inch was withdrawn by mistake.

As Arielle tossed red hair over her shoulders, the fingers in Hadrian’s hair releasing to allow for the hand to drop and squeeze at broad shoulder instead, she tilted face skyward and revealed to him the underside of her jaw. Lips parted as she moaned in tandem with the roll of her hips, slick flesh smearing the escaping droplets of nectar over the muscled thighs that formed her seat. “Mmmmm fu-uck....”

Hadrian was met with little resistance as he tugged at her and captured plush lips in another fierce kiss. She dissolved into him, those fingers clawing at olive skin until it dimpled and reddened beneath blunt nails. The kiss was returned with fervour, Arielle’s nose pressing into the meat of his stubbled cheek as tongues tangled in play. The sultry taste of her own arousal still lingered within his mouth, now rolling over her own tastebuds. She wondered, in her split second of ability to create tangible thought, if she was a taste which Hadrian enjoyed and perhaps would even, possibly, grow thirsty for.

A split second was all she could conjure, dissolving into primal need and mindless instinct. Arielle rose with a press of weight down into toned thighs and then into knees, the length of hardened flesh imbedded within her being slowly released. The higher she rose in slow motion, the more liquid shone against veined girth, until just the plush flesh of the tip of his cock remained gripped inside of her. She hovered there, snagging Hadrian’s lower lip between her teeth before suckling upon it, before she drove herself down upon him. The round orbs of fleshy arse smacked the tops of sculpted thighs, the sound echoing about the space around them. Supple cheeks jiggled with the sharp impact, but were not given the time needed to grow still.

Instead, Arielle’s pace increased in tempo. With an arch of her back, a shift of angle that had Hadrian grinding against textured front wall of narrow canal, she rose only to crash back down upon him. Her motions were smooth, far from the staggered and haphazard thrusts of the whores he had surely needed, but were instead a seamless rise and fall. Hadrian’s thrusts upwards and into her had him buried against cervix, knocking against the opening to womb a mere second before he’d withdraw. Neither of them could keep still, far too overwhelmed by the pleasure received in being tangled with, buried within and impaled upon the other. Arielle was finding herself growing light-headed as she bounced upon him, the fleshy sounds of their fucking a sharp echo.

The sudden clasp of bouncing breast in large palm, snatched by calloused fingers and squeezed, had Arielle crying out in pleasure. Mismatched, burning eyes grew wide before her gaze fell down upon him, watching on as Hadrian drew erect nipple and supple flesh into his mouth in a fierce and hungry suckle. The hand at his shoulder squeezed tighter, nails almost piercing olive skin. “Hadrian....” Back instinctively arched, pressing more of the bountiful orb against his lips, chin and cheeks, smothering his nose even in her desperate attempt to have more be consumed by him.

Something shifted within Hadrian, something sudden. Red and copper curls were caught in a tight fist, his yank upon her scalp rough and demanding as he urged head to whip back and expose bare throat. Instinct screamed at her to resist for the briefest of moments, a trauma long ago forgotten stirring for a split second before memory was stolen away by the bear who guarded the door; allowing for Arielle to continue to dissolve into pleasure and sexual gratification. Mouth opened, her breaths ragged as her eyes closed, the young woman above him giving in to every sensation gifted to her.

The piston-like drive of thick cock within slick channel. The quivers of muscle that greedily gripped the welcomed intruder. The liquid warmth that filled her womb and smeared the base of engorged girth with each hungry roll of her hips. The heat of his mouth at her collarbone as he bit down upon bone and flesh that had her whimpering. Breasts pressed forward to pillow against broad chest, smearing thin sheen of perspiration across skin. Arielle felt like fire to touch, the cold about them long ago forgotten as she consumed Hadrian in her fever. She gave a shrug of her shoulder, an encouragement for him to sink teeth into the flesh and sinew there; a place that had always made her giddy no matter the touch.

With the bite came more desperate, more needy thrusts down upon his sheathed length. Arielle clung to him, her back arched at a sharp angle with Hadrian’s hand firmly within her hair, as she impaled herself time and time again. Hips shifted, rolling sideways, grinding from front to back, and every pulse and twitch of his cock inside of her was met with a firm clench and a sudden shiver. Hadrian had her edging closer, a slight frown pinching between her copper brows as toes curled. She became almost clumsy, spurred on by the promise of near orgasm, as she held her breath deep in her lungs.

“Yes...I...” she whimpered, head falling against his palm as she lifted one last time before she slammed home. Arielle began to twitch, jerking upon him as she clutched at his shoulders. Legs tightened against his sides, crushing almost, as she began to writhe upon his lap. She couldn’t make another rise, her muscles turned to jelly as she came, a sudden gush of ambrosia coating the textured walls of her pussy that quivered about Hadrian in a vice-like grip. Mouth fell agape, Arielle unable to take a breath, as she convulsed against him in climax. A fine bead of perspiration fell from her temple, rolling into her hair; her fever hot enough to make Hadrian’s own skin blush. In a split second lapse, where orgasm released its hold upon her for a single moment, she sucked in enough air to cry; “Aw fuck, Hadrian...!”

 

[Fates.Gamble]

Hadrian could have easily disputed Arielle’s claim that he was solely to blame for unleashing such ravenous appetite. Had she not taunted and teased him from the first? Had she not been daring the king to sate these devious cravings from the moment she’d been brought before his throne? He more than understood this ‘need’ she spoke of. Arielle had sown the seeds of it within him, infecting him with such desire that Hadrian could scarcely close his eyes without visions of cream and copper haunting his mind. Most troublesome of all, she’d done so with little more than a brush of skin and a gaze from those luminous, dual eyes of hers. It was no wonder his subjects took her for a witch, when their ruler could find himself to easily snared in a spell.

Presently, however, Hadrian couldn’t care less if he were spellbound or not. No enchantment could be worse than the fire that raged within him, begging to be quenched; nothing more tiresome than holding back this explosive need they shared. He would likely go mad if he continued to try, not that Ari gave him any quarter to do so. All of Hadrian’s concerns vanished, evaporating in the rising heat the moment she had him in her wet, succulent pussy. Concerns over his throne didn’t exist; hell, all of Eirlea seemed like a hazy daydream. Only the woman in his lap was real, her delectable body earning all of Hadrian’s attention as he painted her with his touch, fingers gliding across scorching, bare skin.

In a way it was surreal, seeing Arielle in so honest a form. The hardened warrior seemed to crumble away, exposing a softer layer to the only woman strong enough to command the loyalty of the North. He’d caught a glimpse of it earlier at the lake, but things had been different then. Anger boiled as hot as his passion, his urgency to have her then and there in the snow leaving him unable to appreciate the beauty in her moment of vulnerability. But vulnerability was hardly a fitting word. In fact, Hadrian thought she’d never seemed more powerful than she did now. Lost in her passion, Arielle was like a goddess crowned by a halo of fire. She proved every bit as voracious a lover as she was a fighter, wholly unashamed in the pleasure of bouncing upon Hadrian’s ample cock. Indeed, she possessed all the shyness (or lack thereof) of Karla’s finest whores, yet worked with a grace that put all of them to shame.

Ari left Hadrian feeling as though he were the only man in the world, working the ribbed walls of her soaked pussy up and down his marble length in seamless stride. Her folds clutched at his throbbing cock, suckling him up for every inch he was worth while his ears were treated to a symphony of quickened breath and lusciously mewls of her enjoyment. The assault to his senses left every nerve tingling, bringing hardened muscle to shiver with delight against her. He could already feel a rising pressure in his loins, the tension rising with every slap of her ass against his thighs. Likewise, he could feel Arielle getting tighter around him, the molten heat of her core growing hotter still with each intrusion.

“Oh Gods…. Fuuuck,” Hadrian moaned with encouragement, his deep voice rumbling across flushed skin once hungry mouth was brought down upon her offered shoulder. Soft lips, wet tongue, and blunt teeth left a scorching trail across the sensitive flesh, where he kissed sucked and nibbled to his heart’s content. His delectable goddess seemed to be driven wild with the thrill of it, renewing Arielle’s vigor in her unblushing attempt to satisfy her need. He could only share in her eagerness, his owns hips greedy in their efforts to match her pace. It was a glorious joining, one that left him wondering why they’d ever waited so long to do this. Looking back now, Hadrian felt a damn fool for fighting it. He could only imagine how much arguing might have been saved had they simply given into the desire the first time in reared its head.

‘Maybe we could have solved all our problems with one, good, hard, fuck.’

Those were the words he’d said to Arielle the morning this fire had truly awakened between them. Maybe the declaration wouldn’t hold at the end of this heated encounter between them, but currently Hadrian couldn’t remember why they’d had problems in the first place; save that this was too fucking long overdue.

Seafoam eyes, once shut in pleasure now cracked open to spy Arielle’s expression once Hadrian felt her tensing against him, her head thrown back to rest against his hand. For the first time, her seamless stride was broken, becoming more frantic than ever as Arielle worked towards her goal with ravenous need. Hadrian knew that she was close even before she spoke, her bated breath and taut, expecting muscles telling him the story that she barely had the focus to bring voice to.

“Mmm… Yes,” Hadrian half moaned, half sighed, his excitement building up right along with her. “I want to feel you cum all over that cock.”

Arielle’s hips seemed to fail her as she happily obliged, fingers and legs clutching at Hadrian nearly as tight as the slick, quivering walls of her sex. Hadrian was quick to pick up on the slack, continuing to grind his hips into her while his hold on her hair fell away, both hands coming to take the bounty of her firm ass for leverage instead. Eager to join her in climax, Hadrian’s grip was possessive, fingers dimpling into the soft, meaty flesh of her ass while he thrusted himself deep into her gushing cunt. Arielle’s orgasm left her wetter and tighter than ever before, her vice like walls making short work of Hadrian, pent up as he was. Just a few quick thrusts was all it took before Hadrian’s cock gave a stiffening twitch, the building pressure mere seconds away from spilling over in a wave of pleasure.

Hadrian sucked in a breath, holding it deep in his lungs as he stood upon the precipice of his orgasm. While he thought his worries had burned away in the heat, he found the ghost of concern haunting his mind once more. A plethora of ‘What-If’s’ swarmed him like a plague of locusts, battling with his resolve as it reminded him of the risks of letting go. Unlike last time, however, Hadrian grit his teeth, threw back his head, and willfully ignored them all. A heavy moan of enjoyment broke free of the king’s throat as he buried himself deep into Arielle and positively flooded her with his warm, viscous seed.

The plague of concerns melted away, smothered by the blinding way of pleasure that rippled throughout Hadrian’s body as he came. The king’s hold grew all the more possessive, fingers clutching tight to their bounty while hips were sluggishly rolled to grind himself into her molten honeypot, maximizing his pleasure. Those slick, quivering walls milked Hadrian for all he was worth, his cock throbbing against them with every pump. Normally olive skin was flushed scarlet, the heat between them likely intense enough to melt the falling snows. Yet Hadrian relished in it, clinging tightly to his lover as his lips once again found themselves at her shoulder, kissing sweetly while he continued to ride out the waves of his climax. Firm muscle was caught between blunt teeth as the last of his seed spilled free, filling her to the brim with the sweet nectar he’d previously denied.

“Mmmm…” Hadrian mumbled with deepest approval, teeth releasing their hold as soft lips ventured up creamy flesh, traveling from shoulder to soft throat, eventually finding purchase at Ari’s mouth for a heartfelt kiss. His tongue danced against her own, a brief tango of wet, pink muscle before retreating for much needed air. Even as he caught his breath, Hadrian remained in Arielle’s embrace, hips rolling to a stop but manhood lingering deep within.

“The first of several rounds, I believe you said?” He quipped, spying her with a playful grin. “Shall we see just how many it takes to sate that ‘great appetite’ of yours?”

Hadrian pushed himself forward, lips meeting hers for another heated kiss while he pressed himself against her. Hadrian used his imposing form to shift Ari backwards, his mouth breaking away shortly before Ari found bare back pressed into the soft furs beneath them. Ruder still was the way he broke their penetration, the muscle which had given her such delight slipping free as Hadrian shifted around to kneel between her legs. Such dreadful parting was quickly remedied, however, Arielle’s devious lover snaring her by the legs and spreading them wide to permit himself back into her saturated pussy. One flawless stroke was all it took to part her walls and strike her core, his heavy cock swiftly regaining what firmness it had lost as he started pumping himself into her all over again.

~

While Hadrian busied himself enjoying the warmest place this icy tundra had to offer, Caius resigned himself to the cold, ensuring that ‘enjoyment’ would not be disturbed. Not that the Shield’s efforts were needed in that regard; no man would be stupid enough to test the jaws of the bear who’d already taken up the job. Even now the great beast sat at the mouth of the king’s tent, ready to lunge at any interloper who thought to get too close. Even so, Caius decided to do his part by ensuring men would not entertain those thoughts, bear or otherwise. To that end he could think of no better method than cracking open a barrel of ale and allowing the men to drink their fill. It was a commodity Hadrian intended to refuse until they were safely with the northerners, but after several days starving in a frozen hell, Caius chose to disregard that plan. The men needed it to lift their spirits as much as he needed it to distract their minds.

Without a promiscuous redhead of his own, Caius relied on a small fire to fend off the cold, his bright eyes keeping watch over the boisterous group of soldiers across its wavering flames. With bellies full of venison and beer their moods were lighter than ever, hardly a rumble of complaint about the king and the northern whore they were freezing their asses off for. It was a big change compared to the last week of grumbling. Arielle may as well have been a hero to them now; what with her massive pet bear and that bounty of the deer. But Caius knew that spark of wonder and gratitude would not last overlong. Their tune would likely change once morning came, when they would find their heads pounding, limbs frozen, and bellies empty.

One man looked as though he’d already come to that conclusion. He sat himself away from the others, resting on a log some distance from the other celebrating soldiers; a solitary frown amidst a sea of smiles. Why was that, Caius wondered, eyes drilling into the man as he shifted about on his log, as though he just couldn’t get comfortable. More curious yet was the lack of tankard in his hand. Not even the Shield cared enough about his duties to deny himself a brew after the crap they’d been through.

It was only a matter of time before one of the other soldiers spied the ominous cloud hanging over the man and his log, and waddled over, seeking to remedy the lack of cup in his glum companion’s hands. The melancholy guardsman tried to brush him off, refusing a proffered ale to the point the soldier had to shove it in his hands, half spilling it down the man’s tunic. He had little choice but to take it then, less he receive a lap full of icy beer. The soldier gave the chum a solid slap on the back, further sloshing his cup before turning about to catch the Shield’s watchful eye. He raised his tankard with a salute and a cheer, even as he stomped through the snow to join Caius in the warmth of his fire.

“The winds appear to be breaking!” He declared before downing another big gulp of brew, followed by a triumphant belch. “With a bit of luck we might see the end of this blizzard by morning.”

“With a bit of luck,” Caius agreed, sipping from his mug. The man continued to blather on, too tipsy to notice that the Shield wasn’t paying any mind. He was far more interested in the somber man on the log, eyes gleaming with suspicion with every glance towards the tent and the bear who sat outside it. Did the man simply fear for his king’s safety with the woman accused of poisoning him? Or were there more sinister intentions behind those nervous eyes?

 

[MoldaviteGreen]

Dušan was a relatively simple man. After being rudely excused from his cousin’s presence instead for the questionable company of her lover, he’d set about entertaining himself. He knew enough of the Southerners to know to tread carefully, aware that they likely wouldn’t take well to his presence after already struggling to accept that of his cousin. But what was he to do? Sit outside the tent while Arielle finally fucked the Southern King while he relished in the company of that grumpy old bear? He’d think not.

“We’ll be out here alone for a while,” he announced to no one in particular as he appeared by Caius’ side, pinching the brown of his breeches over his thighs to tug them higher before he plopped down on the log beside the burly King’s Guard. “Left to our own devices for several hours, I would assume. I’m surprised they haven’t fucked sooner than this, if I’m honest. I had my bets on it being before the Wall.” He brought up a leg, plucking his hide-crafted shoe from his foot to leave it bare as he inspected its sole. A sideways glance was cast in Caius’ direction with those brightly lit eyes as he smirked. “I bet I have you to thank for my loss in the wager. You look like the kind of man that would urge for logic and reason over passion and instinct.”

The shoe was tipped upside down, a brittle leaf falling from within to flutter and land upon the ground, before it was brought to eye level and inspected more thoroughly. He didn’t care for introductions, but much preferred the anonymity and ambiguity of his sudden arrival. Dušan was an enigma, and he preferred to keep it that way. But he knew the Southerners itched to know who was who, and what business they had, so he said rather nonchalantly. “I came when I felt her cross the Wall, though this storm slowed me in reaching you and your party.” He grinned rather wolfishly as he glanced to Caius. “She’s magnetic like that. Draws us in. I was surprised to arrive and find that your camp wasn’t overrun already with Northerners. They’d have felt her return.”

He dropped the shoe to the ground and worked his socked foot back inside, wiggling his toes a little as the leaf crunched underfoot. A wide-palmed, calloused hand was wiped down on the thigh of his trousers before it was extended sideways at Caius. “My name is Dušan, but Arielle calls me jack-ass or asshole or…come to think of it, it always something related to buttocks…” his grin was wide and near child-like, brightening otherwise rugged features that pinned him as a man midway through his twenties. Dušan held his hand extended, awaiting Caius to grasp it before he shrugged a shoulder. “It’s alright, stiff, you don’t have to share your name with me. I don’t have to know a name to enjoy someone’s company.” The light in his eyes as she smirked lopsidedly twinkled before he cast his gaze over the men. “They look anxious. Don’t they know she’s devouring things other than his heart tonight?” He shivered and crossed his arms over his chest, gaze flickering between the men before him before his face dissolved into something of indifference and boredom.

“Sex magic is some pretty powerful shit,” Dušan said rather suddenly. “I wouldn’t be surprised if this blizzard dies when she comes; if not the first time then definitely the second.” A copper brow rose, his expression amused as he added; “So I guess the progress of this trip of yours depends entirely on your sweet King’s ability to please my cousin. I hope he’s as good in bed as I imagine.”

~ ~ ~​

Ten calloused fingertips clutched at the soft flesh of her rear as Arielle failed to rise; her orgasm so violent that it held her in its clutches and made her useless. The heels of his palms dug into her sit bones, drawing her upwards in a quickening motion. Textured walls suckled his length, having tightened in her bliss, while she mewled softly between parted lips. Fuck, she had waited so long for this…why had they taken so long? The orbs spilled from between his splayed digits, too much flesh to be contained even by two hands, and turned pink against the heat of his palms. It smooshed, flattening a little as he dropped her weight down upon his hips, grinding his pelvis up against her core until he bottomed out inside of her and nudged against entry to her womb. It seeded an ache inside of her, his hardened tip striking against her cervix like a battering ram, while he fucked her from below as she writhed through her breath-stealing climax.

Arielle gave into him, her knees tightening and loosening against his ribs as she quivered about him. With her head thrown back, as if his fingers were still curled into the wild of her hair, she finally remembered to breathe. From between her parted lips, the cool air burned on its way down, scorching her lungs as she grew dizzy with euphoria. Hadrian was coated in her, smeared with the liquid that now steadily flowed from between the silken, pink lips. She pressed a palm against his chest, glancing drunkenly down at where their bodies merged as she purred in approval. Watching Hadrian buried inside of her, thrusting deeply as he smeared her nectar over their thighs, made her hungry.

The bite of his fingernails in her rear and the tensing of pectoral muscles had Arielle smirking. Mismatched eyes lazily swept over the supine man beneath her, something wicked within her gaze as she watched him begin to coil under her like a serpent about to strike. His shoulders pulled inwards just a fraction, the muscles in his upper arms blaring as his hold on her became determined, possessive even. His chest strained, the flushed skin across his abdomen rippling as he clenched. Hadrian was edging closer to his own orgasm, lingering at the precipice of euphoria, but would he allow himself to tumble or would he punish himself for this momentary weakness and deny himself the pleasure? The pulp of her lower lip was snagged between her teeth, Arielle biting hard enough that it split the rosy skin and bled as she anxiously awaited what he would decide.

For a split second, she was sure that he’d fling her from his lap and deny himself. She was so absolutely sure that he would refuse to give him, even when she promised of other ways to bring him to pleasure without risk of child; if he let her. Her heart clenched as time seemed to drag, the King beneath her beginning to shake but seemingly frozen on the edge. Arielle prepared herself for the forceful dismount, but it never came.

Instead, her mouth fell open, her bitten, swollen lips parting in a surprised O as bronze brows pinched together. The first lash of his seed struck her insides, coating her walls as he drew her down upon his shaft to be buried to the hilt within her. The second and third rope struck against her cervix with near violent force, making Arielle clench down upon him instinctively. Hadrian came inside of her, succumbing to his own orgasm while sheathed within her pussy; as he flooded her channel until she leaked. A bead of cream glistened at the apex of her thinned lips, twinkling as it slid down that half inch of his shaft that Arielle hadn’t been able—yet—to take before it nestled against his base.

What this man was making her feel was far more dangerous than any potential bastard child, she was sure.

Arielle welcomed her lover with an arm about his shoulders as he drew himself against her chest. Hadrian’s hair was damp with perspiration, their skin on fire and their bodies feverish. She tangled her fingers within the dark threads, scratching nails lightly over scalp as she craned her neck, closed her eyes, and revelled in the soft kisses he pressed along her shoulder. She wanted to tell him that she was surprised that he had allowed himself to come within her. She wanted to tell him that he’d set her insides on fire, and she felt drunk on the pleasure. But a kiss, she decided as Hadrian claimed her mouth, would suffice.

His lower lip was suckled between her own, Arielle nipping playfully at the soft flesh before soothing it with a stroke of her tongue. He tasted like he always did, better than what she’d imagined, and she was sure it was addictive. Her soft hum of appreciation rolled over their tongues as she flicked pink muscle against his own. When he parted their lips, she grinned brightly and arched an eyebrow. “Is that wise, Your Highness? I would hate for your heart to give out trying to keep up with my appetite.” A curl of red hair brushed against Hadrian’s collarbone as she bit the tense flesh of his shoulder teasingly before setting a kiss over the red marks of teeth. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to wear you out…”

Their mouths crashed together as she wrapped an arm about the back of his neck, drawing him closer to her even as he rocked them down towards the furs and she was laid on her back. Her knees tucked in close, legs beginning to move to wrap around his waist, before Hadrian slipped from inside her. Arielle shoved herself up onto her elbows, hissing on her inhale as she glowered at him. “I swear to the gods, if you don’t—” she gasped as Hadrian re-entered her in one smooth motion; her liquid arousal as his dripping cum making the penetration near frictionless as he held her thighs out wide. “Mm,” she purred, running a nails over the length of his arm, “I like this but I think you’ll like this better…”

The ankles that had begun to cross at the small of his back untied, and her legs pressed upwards against possessive hands. Arielle grinned mischievously as she fought against his hold, before tossing legs upon over his shoulders until she lay beneath him; contorted. Her core was presented to Hadrian, bare and open and dripping as he speared into her. The angle of her pelvis shifted sharply, Hadrian’s next downward thrust drawing against her pubic bone and ramming her cervix. Her womb shifted, nudged out of the way, as their combined fluids coated his cock and painted her thighs. Her calves were against his shoulder blades, the lower half of her back lifted from the furs beneath her, as her thighs drew in close to her chest as she tugged his face down towards her own.

Her fingers curled in his hair as her lips crashed clumsily against his own, her lower tier pressed against the seam of his lips. She was thirsty for him, grappling at his arm as she remained contorted beneath her lover. The slippery muscle of her tongue lapped at his mouth, curling against the back of his teeth before flicking against his own. Hadrian tasted delicious, and she wondered whether his seed was just as intoxicating.

“Take me like this every night, and I swear to you I will never again cause trouble,” Arielle pressed her forehead against his, Hadrian’s dark hair brushing against her face as she moaned with another powerful down thrust. “You’re driving me fucking wild, Hadrian. Fuck my appetite,” their noses brushed together, their breaths intermingling as she began to pant, “You have me addicted to this. To you.”

Her hips lifted just another fraction in time for Hadrian slamming against the backs of her thighs, his balls swinging and striking against her rear. Her eyes went wide, hips trying to grind down against him in desperate search of friction, as he edged her closer and closer to the precipice of orgasm for a second time that night. “I need you…” Arielle begged, both hands now clinging desperately to the back of his neck as her body juggled with the force of his fucking her. Their foreheads still together, she stared into those sea-foam eyes and begged harder. “Please, I need you. I want us to…oh gods…to cum together.” Her cheeks were flushed, Arielle already rushing towards her second climax. The velvet muscles of her cunt, slick from Hadrian’s own pleasure and her insatiable arousal, clenched upon him until Hadrian was forced to fight against a deep pressure. Deeply set cervix kissed and suckled at the tip of his cock in greeting, her core pulsating as it, too, begged that Hadrian follow her over the edge.

“Please….” The look in her eyes was nearly pained as her breasts jostled with his hips driving into her, bouncing nearly to her collarbones in a lewd display. She snatched at his hair, desperately kissing the corners of his mouth as she whimpered. “Please, Hadrian, come with me…”

But she had no say in the matter, her body completely and utterly at the mercy of the King.

Arielle didn’t scream this time, instead stunned into silence as the air left her lungs. She shuddered, shaking violently beneath her lover, as her body spasmed and muscles clenched. Her core gripped at him, squeezing down upon his shaft as it pulsated about him in her orgasm. She ground her hips upwards, the sudden friction against her clit making her legs shake either side of his neck as Arielle scrunched her eyebrows together. She jerked, twitching, her eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks as her eyes closed and she felt like she might leave her body. The world was quiet, she could hear nothing but the ragged breaths of her lover and the wet squelches as he drove himself wildly inside her pussy. Her voice was small as she opened her eyes and begged him; “Please.”

~ ~ ~​

As Arielle shattered, her world becoming undone as her soul nearly left her, a sudden pulse underground rumbled underfoot, radiating from beneath the pitched Royal tent. Barely noticeable in itself, it rippled beneath the surface of the earth and shifted the freshly lain snow. The wind howled, the ferocious gusts seeming to become more intense as snow and ice were flicked up against the backs of the men huddled by the carcass of the deer and near the smouldering fire. The world became eerily silent, as if they’d been stolen of all hearing; the storm raging around them but the men unable to hear anything. That was until the roar of the blizzard returned in louder volume, the mountain seeming to wail overhead before, slowly but surely, the violent gusts began to ease and quieten.

Dušan shuddered. “See?” He nodded to the dying winds as the flurry of snowflakes began to settle like the storm had been calmed. The wind was barely present, the storm dying within seconds about them until the white mist overhead began to dissipate and reveal a full, silver moon. “Sex magic. Guess your pretty boy does know how to use his cock.”

 

[Fates.Gamble]

It seemed a bit of peace and quiet would be in short supply tonight. That was something Caius missed greatly; time to be alone with his thoughts. He’d had that in abundance before landing himself as the sworn bodyguard of a spoiled prince. Those were the days… Back when he was free to cut a man’s tongue out if he spoke too much, or said something he didn’t much care for. Now, he spent most of his time listening to a flock of lords, all crowing at one another from across a table half the size of the country. Time away from the squabbling nobles should have been the benefit to being stuck up here, balls deep in the snow. Instead it had been one thing after another, always playing politics with that cocksure prince turned king, or protecting him from the rats scurrying about the frost with their poison. Now that they were all drunk, Hadrian on his northerner and the rest on the beer, he thought he might finally have a chance at solitude. Yet no sooner than the drunkard stumbled away from his fire, did a northern lordling come to take his place.

Caius’ attention jumped to Dušan, his expression stoic and telling as the man spoke of being ‘left to their own devices.’ Yet the stone faced guard seemed to have no effect on the colorful gentleman, who took a place beside him without a care in the world. The shield had seen this one before. He’d spied him exiting Hadrian’s tent, yet never caught glimpse of him entering. Tricky thing, that, since eyes were never away from the king’s lodgings, especially since his near brush with death. But then, Northerners were a tricky lot. The distrust of the South hadn’t spawned out of thin air, unlike this man seemed to have done…

Caius looked away, bright eyes fleeing back to the warm glow of the fire warming their bones. He said nothing as Dušan alluded to Hadrian and Arielle’s pastimes, merely listening while he busied himself with a heavy draught of ale. His dry expression broke with smirk of his own, however, once the northerner thought to define him.

“A smart man doesn’t place a bet he isn’t sure to win,” The Shield told him, keeping his eyes locked with the flame. “You’ve no one to blame but yourself."

A man who puts logic over passion and instinct, Caius grumbled to himself, humored by the irony. When did I become that sort of man? Those who knew him, truly knew him, would say the complete opposite. Passion for life and the instinct to survive is what kept him alive in the fighting pits, not to mention what had landed him there in the first place. Few knew the truth of his criminal past; it simply wouldn’t do to have a scandal like an ex murderer now serving as the Shield of the King. After the prince bought the mongrel out of that prison and turned him into his lap dog, Leander made good and certain that anyone who spread such rumors never spoke again. Not that this man would have cared, even if he knew the truth. That was another thing that set north and south apart: The northerners didn’t care to play the game of high society, nor were they easily offended.

Once again, the Shield fell silent, listening intently as Dušan talked of Arielle, explaining how he was ‘drawn’ to her, like some sort of mystic magnet. His eyes shifted back to the men, as though he were afraid they might overhear the lord’s crazy talk. Their preconceptions of the northern queen were bad enough, he didn’t need them encouraged by this man while they were deep in their cups. None of them seemed to notice, however, as they remained huddled together in an effort to stave off the cold. All save the lonely bastard who sat off on his own, clinging to a scarcely touched tankard of beer. Why did he look so perturbed? Why so anxious?

Dušan rustled The Shield from his thoughts as he extended a hand and offered his name; or rather a series of names to choose from. Caius didn’t bother reaching out to shake it, nor did he offer his own name in return. Dušan was quick to brush it off, but Caius was equally quick to explain why.

“I’m pretty sure you already know who I am,” the Shield suggested, passing a sideways glance to his company before focusing on his target again. “Or at least, what I am.” He hoped so, anyway. The northerners were playing in a dangerous war if they didn’t know who would be the last obstacle standing before they could ever hope to take Hadrian’s head. He wasn’t bought out of that blood-sport they called atonement because of his ability to charm the nobles.

“I’d rather them think they’re going for his heart,” Caius told him. “Better they’re suspicious than drunk, jealous, and angry.” Not a man standing out by that bonfire was pleased with being dragged out here, their limbs cold and frozen while Hadrian was keeping his cock nice and warm. Small wonder one of them wanted to poison him, really. And the more Caius focused on the lonesome fellow, the more he was suspecting at there was one more rat that might try and take a stab at it.

“Sex magic?” Caius laughed, shaking his head over the audacity of it. “I know you Northerners believe in some pretty weird shit… But that has to take the cake. Is that why they say ‘Always take a gypsy girl to bed?’” More laughter bellowed once Dušan announced this entire venture’s success teetered on Hadrian’s ability to please the northern queen. “Is that that the makings of another wager, I hear?” He asked, smirking at the queen’s cousin. “Because I’m afraid I learned a long time ago that you never bet on Hadrian. The bastard’s too damn unpredictable.”

The laughter drew the attention of the man he watched so diligently. Caius was careful to catch his eye, taking note of the wary expression that greeted him. “You there!” He shouted at the man, pointing for emphasis. It nearly caused him to jump out of his furs. “My friend ‘Jackass’ here is thirsty! Bring ‘em a cup!”

~

Hadrian wasn’t the only one who was unpredictable; Ari was proving to be quite the spontaneous lover. Where most of the women Hadrian bedded had merely submitted to however he chose to take them, Arielle fought against his strong hands, forcing her legs over his shoulders to change up their position. She was no meek, doe-eyed noble’s daughter, too fascinated by the king to summon her creativity. She was a leader just like him, and wasn’t afraid to let him know it.

Hadrian gave a deep hum of approval as he felt her slick walls tighten around his hardened cock, her bare legs like scorching fire against his skin, even as the pleasure sent a cold tingle up his spine. “Mmm, you’re right,” he moaned, wrapping his arms around her legs and drawing his hips back until the head of his dick threatened to slip free of her clinging pussy, “I do like this.” He drove himself back into her, hips striking her into her with a loud slap while his cock struck deep, the swollen head suckled by her shifting cervix before his retreat. Again and again he fucked her this way, plump lips and wet tongue meshing against her own as Arielle pulled him down for another taste. She was positively scrumptious! Electricity sparked in every kiss as they plundered each others mouths, Hadrian sucking in her bottom lip and relishing in the salty, sweet taste that lingered there.

Hadrian pulled away, sucking in a breath as Arielle spoke, promising all those troublesome habits of hers would disappear if he kept this up. That oath was like pie crust, cheaply made and oh so easily broken. But Hadrian’s kiss-swollen lips pulled into a bright grin, his eyes glittering like emeralds. “Oh really? Well, I don’t know…” He teased her, rearing back his hips and keeping himself shallow for a time. “Maybe I like a little bit of trouble every now and then.” He didn’t keep her wanting for long, though, unable to fight his own addiction as he slammed himself back into her dripping, wet pussy.

“Oh, fuck Ari!” He moaned, incapable of keeping it in as she lifted her hips to swallow him up even deeper. Yet even that wasn’t enough, as they both desperately sought more, grinding into one another as though they wished to be one being, body and soul. Heady eyes locked with her own as her hands clasped around the back of his neck, keeping him as close as possible. His arms slipped free of her legs to reach down, fingers splaying out into the furs to better support himself in an effort to carry out her wish. Harder she wanted, and Hadrian was more than happy to oblige, their bodies clapping together with every powerful thrust. He could feel her getting closer, tighter with every blow until her silken, velvety cunt gripped him so rigorously that he had to fight against it.

Marble length throbbed within her, the desperate pleas that spilled from her lips sweet enough to make him ache with arousal. The sultry sound of her voice, the sleek, pulsing grip of her wet cunt, the way her hardened nipples brushed against his chest with every bounce… It was all driving him wild; a concoction of ecstasy that nearly saw Hadrian tumbling over the edge too early to grant her desire. His muscles contracted, feeling unbearably tense as the pressure mounted.

“T-Together, then…” He agreed, setting his jaw and holding back his urge to come until he was certain she was ready. Unlike before, there was not so much as a whimper to alert him this time. Instead there was a great tremor, her body convulsing against him as her sodden core squeezed down, suckling and encouraging his firm dick to join her in immeasurable bliss. Hadrian was not nearly so silent as he relented, a deep and heavy moan rumbling from his throat. His brows furrowed, his face contorting with pleasure as the pressure released, bursting within her like a flood of liquid fire.

“Aw fuck! Fuuuck…” he groaned, the mighty thrusts of his hips receding to a deep and needy grind as he came, his cock jerking with every release into her into her clutching pussy. His muscles twitched with the aftermath, burning with exertion while he kept himself there, lingering in the oily depths of her core. Hadrian thought it laughable when she teased about wearing him out, but as he held himself there, his breath ragged, muscles shaking, and heart beating a million miles a second, he realized he hadn’t been prepared for how intense fucking her could be. Before long he had to maneuver her legs from his shoulders, letting them stretch out to either side of him was Hadrian collapsed into her, his head resting in the warmth of her soft bosom while he caught his breath.

~

Whether Dušan wanted a drink or not didn’t matter to Caius. He was only using the northerner to seize an opportunity; a chance to see how this nervous little hare would respond, now that the wolves called him over. The Shield’s eyes were calculating as he watched the man plod through the snow, brushing past the huddle of soldiers to tap the keg. Jittery fingers drummed against the tankard as he waited, then hastily ran off with his bounty. Snow crunched under heavy boots as he stomped into the glow of their fire, doing what he could to ignore the Shield’s cold gaze boring into him. Even Dušan received only a fleeting glance, the soldier sweeping him with a look of doubt before handing off the mug.

With a curt nod towards the Shield, who continued to eye him like a hawk would a snake, the soldier moved to take his leave. He’d only made it about four of five steps though, before a what Caius could only describe as a ripple through the earth struck out beneath their feet. Caius was just as frozen for a moment, captive to the swell of energy he felt when ice and snow broke from the ground to shower upon his men. The phenomenon captures all of their attention, the lot of the soldiers towards the source. Their gazes fell upon the king’s tent before shifting to Caius, Dušan, and the man caught in the middle.

The northerner was quick to cheek, rounding the conversation back to ‘Sex Magic’ which Caius had so recently found humorous. Now he only silenced himself with a frothy drink of his beer, eyes jumping to the celestial body that appeared when the clouds parted as surely as Hadrian did Arielle’s legs. It was hard to argue the concept now, he realized, lowering his mug to pour out the last remnants of swill that remained.

“What was it I heard that whore say…” Caius mused aloud, thinking back to that night in Aquarin when Hadrian snuck off, “’They say the kings of Eirlea are chosen by the gods. If that’s true none should be able to match their vigor.’” Caius chuckled, shaking the last drops out of his mug. “Doesn’t leave much hope for common folk like you and me, does it?”

The Shield leaned back with a sigh, the break in the weather calming his nerves somewhat even the means of it left him confused and uneasy. “If what you say is true,” he started towards Dušan, “Then I suppose more northerners will be drawn to her now? Well, so be it. Its about time the terms of this treaty were started in earnest.”

 

[MoldaviteGreen]

Dušan grinned as he stretched out long, lean legs towards the fire revealing his fur and hide boots. “Oh,” he sung smugly, “it was a sure bet that one, I just did not anticipate you having as much sway over him as you clearly do, or that it would get in her way. When my dear cousin wants something, especially something as bad as she wants Hadrian, nothing stands in her way.” Sparkling, mischievous eyes slid towards Caius, the corner of Dušan’s mouth twitching with a smirk. “Save for you, it seems. Though I wonder whether you came away with all your body pieces intact after getting in her way.” Cream fingers found the rolled sleeve of his hide coat, lifting it along the length of toned forearm to reveal a deep, jagged slice of scarred tissue. “I got between Ari and dinner once, after a long trek. Stabbed me straight between the bones with her fork.” There was, indeed, three prong marks in his flesh; scarred and silvery.

Silence befell them as Dušan dropped his sleeve and followed the gaze of the man at his side towards the lone soldier who sat apart from the rest. Why the solitude? Why the untouched tankard of ale? Why the solemn, long face when the rest of the men were chortling and sharing stories of years gone by? The quiet between them didn’t last long, Dušan shuffling an inch closer before muttering; “That one by himself has caught your attention. You’re suspicious. Why?” Brilliant green eyes shifted from the Shield to the lone soldier, as if Dušan were trying to read them both but unable. As much as he knew a great deal about his cousin’s affairs, he wasn’t omnipresent or all-knowing. Arielle was yet to fill him in on what had happened after they had crossed the wall and Dušan was none the wiser that she’d been blamed for Hadrian’s near-death. Regardless, Dušan was a fickle and poorly attentive man, and his mind was soon elsewhere.

“Ah, yes,” he grinned into the fire, bringing his legs in towards his centre to rest elbows atop knees and lean towards the crackling flames. “The young King’s beloved Shield. I often wonder how much blood is on your hands purely because he cannot stomach it. Some people even say that you’re a well-kept dog, useful for taking care of dirty work. A mongrel.” Dušan’s eyes glimmered as he glanced to Caius from over his shoulder. “I see something else, though, and for a copper, I’ll even read your palm.”

A red lock of hair fell loose of a braid, brushing against the chiselled sharp of his cheekbone as Dušan leant forward towards the fire, drawn in by the heat of it. “You southerners are all so prudish and out of touch. It’s honestly no wonder that magic hasn’t graced your lands for generations.” The grin that split his lips, however, was bright and playful as he turned to eye Caius but said nothing else in return. Not even as he was declared by one of the nicknames he’d offered. “They say to take a gypsy girl to your bed for other reasons, but I suppose there’s only one way of finding out whether all of us Northerners are capable of such magic.”

A copper brow rose in a quirk before his attention, again, drifted to the lone man who was slow to rise at the instruction of Caius. Shimmering eyes were cast upwards as the man wandered closer, barely giving him a glance as Dušan clasped the tankard between both palms. “Cheers, mate,” he grinned wolfishly, his eyes lazily dragging the length of the soldier before him before he turned on his heel and left. The rim was brought up to perch between lips, the ale just beginning to dribble into the warm cavity of his mouth, before the earth underfoot trembled violently. Dušan snorted, bringing his tankard momentarily away from his lips to avoid the liquor splashing over his face as he chuckled. “There it is.” A rough hand clapped against the muscle of Caius’ shoulder. “Welcome to the North, my friend, where anything goes.”

The tankard met his lips again, the ale sculled in several deep swallows that saw the point of his chin lifting skyward and his throat bobbing. He finished with a swipe of the back of his hand across his mouth and a sigh through his nose. “Depends entirely on what kind of gods you associate yourself with, doesn’t it?” His look was sly as he glanced to Caius, leaning forward to place his elbows on his knees. “Are you a religious man, Caius?”

A slow ripple of wind licked at their skin, rustling hair, but was nothing in comparison to the violent gusts that had been biting their ears moments earlier. Still, it had Dušan shuffling a little closer toward the fire, perching precariously on the log. “They’ve known that she is here, in the North, for a while now. We felt her entry from through the Gates,” he explained matter-of-factly. “They will wait for her to arrive, though I can assure you they’re getting anxious with the wait and have already begun some preparations. They are not aware of…the terms or reason for her visit.” Bright eyes watched Caius from their corners. “No need to worry. You aren’t about to be overrun by Northerners, much to your disappointment, I am sure.”

His smile turned sly. “Say, do you have yourself a girl, my friend, or are your tastes more lenient like my own?”

~​

Knees rested against either side of his neck, legs tossed over taut, muscled shoulders as Arielle clung to him. Her ankles were hooked together, shifting against his back, and drawing his chest down flush against her own. As Hadrian’s hips rolled forward, the plush head of his cock nudging her cervix higher as he filled her, Arielle moaned loudly and caught the side of his face within her palm. “Hadrian….” her mouth opened as she gasped, his fingers knitting into the furs shifting him further over her as his weight pressed into his hands.

Ari swore that she could feel every marbled inch of his length, every bulged vein, and it was driving her delirious. The resistance of her core, her slick inner walls tightening like a vice about invading, hammering cock, set her skin alight. As Hadrian slammed against cervix, beginning to bruise sensitive tissue, Ari grinned wolfishly, knowing it would leave behind a deep-seated ache to remind her for hours, if not days. Fingers splayed against his cheek, tips combing through into the hairline by his temple, Ari tried to lift her shoulders from the fur and connect their lips in a kiss. Pinned beneath him as she was, she couldn’t reach. Instead, her forehead, shining with perspiration, nestled against Hadrian’s own as her body began to tremble.

“H-Hadrian, I…”

Their ascension into euphoria came a split second apart, the sudden jolt of his body striking deep within her core to knock against the entrance to her womb as a single lash of hot seed struck her cervix became her undoing. Arielle shook violently beneath him, her back lifting from the fur blanket as her body contorted. Legs, shaking, drew his chest flush against her own, the swell of her heavy breasts jostling with her trembling. She cried out, cursing loudly, clinging to him. Her fingers curled into his hair, her eyes wide as she stared into the blue depths of his own.

Being with Hadrian was unlike anything else. While he was not the first to be brought to Arielle’s bed, what she felt now, a sudden flush of heat and otherworldly tingling, was the unfamiliar. She clung to him as he came, Arielle riding out her own orgasm that had her mind drifting and soul floating. Her breaths were ragged, a bead of sweat sliding down her temple as she tried to catch her breath from between parted lips. While flushed with heat, her core felt alight; the seed Hadrian had filled her with, flooding her womb like lava. She’d promised that she was safe, and she objectively knew that this was true. No bastard would be seeded inside of her this night, and yet a small sliver of her mind was hopeful.

A pink tinge blushed over her cheeks, Arielle not ashamed about being coiled beneath him, slick with sweat, but rather sheepish as she tried to smother the smouldering ember of hope. Their relationship was rocky at best, tumultuous more often than not, and a babe was something Hadrian made very clear would not be welcome. Do not be stupid.

Arielle, sucking in a breath, allowed Hadrian to draw her legs down from over his shoulders. She was careful as she shifted beneath him, though, wanting him to remain within her and not yet ready to be apart from him. As Hadrian fell forward onto her chest, however, Arielle wrapped arms around his chest and drew him flush to her body, smiling. “Took you long enough to finally fuck me,” she teased, twisting under him to bring a kiss to his temple gently. Arielle wiggled her toes, prompting blood flow to return to the extremities she’d held above her heart for a little longer than she should have.

Making a face as tingling set into her feet, she murmured against the side of his face as she wiggled under him to press her nose to his cheek; “Do you feel okay?” With what happened between us? With whatever this means for us now? With the risk you believe still exists that stopped you by the river and may niggle at your mind again now? With how this changes things in a direction we, perhaps, didn’t plan for?