[ He is very small, and very sweet, and very stupid, and this has all been another elaborate excuse for him to get out of the daily monotony of passing bills and approving the sundry proposals of the kingdom — so of course it doesn't take Will very long so sneak back into his quarters like a little mouse.
Honestly, he didn't take the throne to become a paper-pusher! So Will has been fighting poor Hulkenberg and Gallica for days... and he's largely very successful at it. He's learned new little tricks: that barrier spell that once only Zorba could weave? Will's developed his own version of it, one that requires less time to cast in exchange for covering less surface area: this he uses now to close his bedroom door. Even if they think to find him here, they'll never get in!
Smug, he immediately flounces over to his "poisoned" husband, preening and obviously presenting himself for the hugs and cuddles he was promised. ]
Louiii~is... are you feeling ill?
[ He sounds so impishly satisfied with himself. Hee hee hee! ]
[ Will's little rebellions thrill him in a way – especially when he gets to be part of them. occasionally his husband will need a gentle pry, or a little nudging away from his moral center to do something bad, but he embraces it willingly; on occasion, Will needs no provocation. today is one such day.
Louis has already positioned himself daybed by their personal library, partially draped over the side of the ornamental backing with surprisingly delicate precision. Louis is large, but he holds himself well, and he looks light resting back against the cushions, eyes closed beneath long lashes as if he were in slumber. it's all a show, of course, the prize that Will received with the little playful trick of the fake poison, but Louis plays the part as well as he played the lowly soldier for his king.
he does not respond, even as he hears the door click, as if the poison has taken full effect and he is within it's grip. his hair hangs to frame his face, curling over his cheeks and partially brushing against his parted lips. each breath is long, causing his chest to swell and his hair to flutter as it comes out his mouth. he's certainly ripe for whatever taking that his king – or perhaps passing prince – desires. ]
[ He's beautiful. Certainly, it's not Will's first time thinking that Louis is beautiful, but this is his first time seeing Louis like this, posed artistically and looking so deliciously vulnerable. Will finds himself holding his breath as he approaches his "poisoned" lover, taking in the full effect of his languid posture, his curling tresses. With open greed, and glorious joy, Will smiles faintly as he reaches out and tucks some of Louis's fine golden hair behind one of his ears. ]
So beautiful, all for me...
[ He truly does look like some prince from a fairy tale, cursed and waiting for a savior to arrive. (Sometimes, Will wonders: wasn't he like that, only so long ago? If they had met then under different circumstances — if Louis had not learned that the prince was still alive after killing his father and forsaking his country — would it have been Louis riding back to the eldan sanctum, to deliver true love's kiss to the sleeping prince?) With a faint ache in his heart, thinking of all they've lost together, Will leans forward — ]
My love... Won't you wake with true love's kiss?
[ All his for the taking, so Will takes what he pleases, pressing a soft, full, warm kiss to Louis's lips. Then, feeling still more greedy, he loops his arms around Louis's slim waist and kisses him some more. ]
he's settled into his skin well, both as a writer and a poet, even if he's the king. in their time together, Louis has learned Will's taste in novels, filled with longing and adventure scrawled in bright prose. perhaps there's some truth in that sort of fantasy, mingling in the words that would construct their own world.
(there wasn't a time when Louis used to think that way, but he feels it more and more as he spends time with Will, as it sinks into him and peeks from the back of his brain until he urges it back again. it's haunting him with hope.)
in this case they've switched, haven't they? Louis finds the whole thing amusingly ironic, in his own, dry way, allowing Will to be the valiant rescuer, just as someone could not rescue him. in his own dramatic reenactment, he can feel Will's breath as he lowers, warm and sweet, and the brush of his nose, then his mouth.
it's soft at first, before the greedy king leans down and takes more. ]
Quite the show, my king. Perhaps my prince, considering the circumstances.
[ Is Will an absolute romantic? He supposes he must be. In his eyes, Louis is an absolute vision, the way he slowly opens his eyes, catlike turquoise, after Will kisses him. Surrenders so sweetly into his greedy kisses, playing stoic, though Will knows he wants them, too.
Overcome with need, Will wiggles his way into Louis's lap on the daybed, until he's firmly astride his husband's hips. ]
Ah, are you? I think you should have more of the antidote so that we can be sure.
[ More kisses! More cuddles! More of an absolutely devoted, besotted king who loves you to the point of near-madness! (Though it's a good thing that Will is so sensible; if things had been different, maybe he really would have followed Louis into madness.) The young king rubs his soft nose along Louis's neck, fingers reaching greedily for his pretty golden hair; he presses a kiss to Louis's jugular, where he can feel, faintly, the gentle beating of his heart. ]
My royal knight, your prince has come to save you...
[ So this is today's scenario? Rather than the cursed prince asleep in his bed, Will would go on an adventure to save his poisoned knight instead. Well, that is very like him, and if the world had been kinder, perhaps Louis truly could have been his loyal knight. So it goes. ]
[ like a little animal in search of warmth, Will spreads himself over Louis, who in turn is spread over the daybed, making himself comfortable and taking exactly what he wants. Louis can't fault him – Will is a fairly agreeable king, but there is a demanding side to him, one that isn't afraid to go after exactly what he wants. that, in this case, is more kisses. ]
A prince coming to save his knight is a twist in the tale I hadn't expected. Are you contemplating writing and publishing that one?
[ with a slight, subtle turn, he gives Will a broader range to spread himself over, opening himself to little kisses and the cuddles that the king loves so much. an arm lazily rests over Will's waist to keep him steady. an accidental fall from the daybed would ruin the mood.
well, Will had been the one to save himself in a way, hadn't he? in the way neither the former king nor Louis could – a part of his own sense of preservation, or self love. Louis hadn't thought about it too deeply before, but he thinks about it now as Will spreads over him and coos over his slumbering knight. ]
[ There's something very sweet about how quickly Louis has learned to accommodate his king. They've only been married for so many months, but it feels as though Louis always knows exactly how to hold Will so that he's most comfortable, how to move and shift so that they're both comfortable with each other and can lie abed for hours and hours on end without getting restless. The arm around Will's waist makes the elda king feel wonderfully secure, even as he's the one who's being demanding, pressing kisses with fluttering lashes and soft little giggles all over Louis's perfect face. ]
Should I? Would you like it?
[ He wiggles and settles, weight firmly planted over Louis's body in the daybed, happy and comfortable and cuddling just the way he wanted to. Louis is now drinking quite deeply of his antidote, indeed. What a wonderful treatment to indulge in. ]
Some people might say that the king shouldn't write novels...
[ As an abuse of power, in some ways — won't all citizens feel compelled to buy it? — but also, ahem, after what happened to the last king who dared to publish a book... and found himself censored by the church. Will knows that dark history better than most. They both do. ]
[ Will reminds Louis of some sort of small animal that has the uncanny ability to make itself larger when it relaxes. spreading over him, Will's small body presses him into the daybed, and Louis feels a pleasant sink into the cushions. ]
If there are concerns over distribution, you could choose a pseudonym. Your stately duties shouldn't keep you from your own pursuing your passions, or you'll quickly learn to resent them. If all goes well no one will find out until we're both long gone.
[ he's aware that Will may not want to take the same missteps as his father, but putting a hamper on Will's own creativity seems an undue caution. the people need their king, of course, but Louis has enough resentment for the senate (and most of the people), to urge Will to pursue. well, that, and he can't help but be curious on what his king will produce. he's read some of Will's poetry, as well as his other writings, and it seems . ]
Though if you wish to contract me as your editor, I would have you know that I am rather brutal in my reviews.
[ it's somewhat of a joke as a comment on his own nature, particularly because he's read Will's writing and quite likes it.
luckily when Will's resting with his consort, most know to leave them alone where they would normally bother the king into another dull duty. with Louis, he will easily stare anyone down that merely knocks or approaches, giving Will a reprieve. ]
[ A little laugh, and Will is comfortable again, splayed out heavily over Louis's chest at — this is scientific parlance for small animals — maximum sploot. The thought of being a beloved king and a successful author both seems to appeal to him greatly; he likes adventures and little secrets, and this appeals to that adventurous, secret-loving, boyish corner of his heart which Louis knows so well how to appeal to, nowadays. ]
I accept you in all your brutality, Lord Louis. You can be the first to read my drafts.
[ He hums, burying his nose in Louis's sternum for a moment before he resurfaces again. ]
What should my writer's psuedonym be? Hm... Would it be bold to continue using "Wilhelm"? There are plenty of Wilhelms in the kingdom, so I think it might be safe... I could be Wilhelm More.
[ Idly, Will half-wonders what his husband thinks of his father nowadays... He himself has no strong opinions; he loved his father as More but can understand Louis's disappointment with Hythlodaeus V. He's curiously watching Louis's face for a reaction. ]
Or something unrelated, perhaps? Thomas... Alice... John Metaphor...
[ He taps out a short rhythm against Louis's chest with the tips of his fingers. ]
[ when Will is not spending time with him or his friends in his spare time, Louis notices that he writes. in response, Louis has quietly begun to stock their personal library with books to Will's tastes. there are ways that Louis cares that are done quietly, with a combination of silent affection and curiosity: what will Will do with it? what will he create? it seems that in a cruel world, that there are certain aspects of Will that still spark Louis' own interests unrelated to former ambitions (and certain things he's good at, such as military strategy).
the king chatters a bit and Louis settles lazily to listen, making a bemused hn! at the idea of Wilhelm More. while Louis killed the king out of anger, resentment, and what he felt was need, he can't say that Hythlodaeus didn't pull a rather impressive trick with that election. still, he doesn't regret what he did. ]
John Metaphor sounds very suspiciously like a pseudonym that you may be able to convince people of its legitimacy, though if you wish to take on the name Charadrius, you'll most likely get questions in regards to being a fan of my skyrunner.
[ which actually is kind of funny.
Louis remains fairly still with all of Will's moving and drumming, occasionally, running a hand up and down his waist absently. ]
I won't be answering any fan mail from my readers, anyway. I can live with them thinking that I love your skyrunner.
[ Will Charadrius it is, then. (Goodbye, John Metaphor.) This is in part because Will cannot seriously conceive of his own name being John, but also because the connection between Will and Wilhelm should be obvious, and a secret part of him would revel in the joy of being caught by his subjects. If they don't catch him? Even better. How could they have missed the writing of their king when he didn't even particularly try to hide his identity?
Shyly, Will reveals additional reasoning behind the nom de plume he's apparently settled on: ]
Besides, if we had gotten married in the village...
[ ...He trails off without finishing that thought, body tensing slightly above Louis's, although he relaxes once that big hand runs over his waist again. Apparently some nervousness has seized him, which is very funny, because the object of his romantic desires is currently pinned beneath him and already joined to him in holy matrimony. But Will is still a very sweet, innocent young man, and this is one of those slightly childish thoughts that seems embarrassing to reveal out loud (though he's already partially revealed it). ]
...M-Maybe you wouldn't even have liked me if we'd grown up together...
[ they were relaxed just a moment ago, but he can feel Will shift beneath his hand, tighten with a stress that Louis did not expect. there are times he feels disconnected from Will's own insecurities, and he cannot understand the trigger that caused this sudden bout of anxiety. he's never been terribly good at dealing with it, but he's getting better at recognizing Will's mood shifts.
he does what he knows how to do best: he speaks matter-of-factly of his own beliefs. ]
Married in the village? No, certainly not. The Eldan Sanctum would have felt like a cage. Neither you nor I would've stayed in that place long enough, we would have chosen a life of travel far before we were of age to be married.
[ that is true. there is a love of travel that they both have that none of the other elda shared, and Louis is certain that if they grew up together, that it was the sentiment they would have shared. ]
If you're contemplating our nuptials in this scenario of yours, we would've had them upon whatever skyrunner we procured, far above Euchronia.
[ it's something that he never really thought about, really, Louis is someone who lives for the ambitions in the moment, always thinking about how he can twist certain situations in his own favor – or the favor of whatever utopia had he had been chasing. it's different now, but thinking about the fire – what became of them – it still haunts him in some respect. he finds that there's a space there when he talks about it with Will, as he never really had anyone else who could understand that vulnerability of his.
that makes it feel a bit better in a way he doesn't like to admit, but settles in without vocalizing it. ]
[ It's funny, really, the ways in which Louis, despite all his flaws (and he has many flaws) is genuinely and honestly worthy of the title of Will's true love. He reads Will's tension and seems to always know what to say in response, even when his form of comfort is one that is as blunt and straightforward as he himself is: needlessly, Will worries about a world in which he and Louis never fell in love, but Louis dismisses it easily, substituting other alternate realities instead.
What if you never loved me, Will asks, in a silly way, and Louis replies, I would have always loved you.
It makes the young king brighten, smiling softly in the way that Louis has likely learned he always does. He leans forward, pressing soft kisses, punctuated by one little fresh lovebite, to Louis's neck. This, too, is familiar: he coos out, sing-song — ]
Louiiiis... I — [ a kiss ] — love you — [ kiss ] — sooooo — [ kiss ] — much...
[ How many times has Louis heard this odd refrain by now? Louis, I love you sooooo much. And yet, Will seems to mean it, each and every time... ]
Let's get married again and again and again! [ ...He can't be serious. Or is he? ] Let's run around the world together... let's, let's...
[ Ah, never mind words. He's just going to collapse into a heap of kisses for Louis: to his neck, his jaw, his lips, his cheeks... Will will even shift up onto his knees to give Louis kisses to his horns. (He should be wearing them, surely? True, they are in the privacy of the king's bedchamber, but it is only midday!) ]
[ it is difficult for Louis to imagine a world where their love of adventure did not coincide in a community of the recluse, fearful of stepping beyond their borders. there are details there: the fire, the king, when and how, and Louis' own circumstances, but all of that are just details. now that Louis has met Will, who came into his life like a force of nature, it is difficult to imagine himself without him.
honestly, he did not expect this sort of response – he never does, because here he thought he was speaking his mind more than he meant to sooth his lover, but Will is crawling on him and pushing him down and kissing him and he once again wonders how did this happen? ]
You are impossible.
[ but it doesn't sound like much of a protest coming from a man who could lift the king off and slink somewhere else if he disliked being this showered with affection. he is unused to it, perhaps – even with Will, due to a lifetime of personal neglect, and it's still something he doesn't quite know how to respond to.
there goes the king, putting his mouth on his horns too. ]
[ If Louis disliked Will's affection, he could easily just shove the king off. The fact that he doesn't, Will decides, is invitation to shower him with still more kisses. When Will tires of giving Louis kisses, he pulls back slightly and makes himself comfortable again, dragging his nails lightly over the man's horns, around his scalp where he's seemed to like being touched in the past. ]
I can still marry you again. I'll marry you as many times as it takes.
[ As many times as it takes until... what? Until Louis finally understands that Will adores him? Until Will is satisfied, more probably. He settles his body comfortably in Louis's hold again; as usual, he expects Louis to accommodate him, but as usual, they manage to be very comfortable with each other all the same. ]
As many times as you want me... because I want you infinitely, all the time, always...
[ there's that romantic again, the one that rears its head when Will is feeling sentimental. he has the same light to his eyes as the king did so many years ago when Louis was young, but where that turned out to be hollow, Will's is full of promise. the difference is in belief, isn't it? Louis had learned a while ago not to blindly follow idealism, but Will has already made it real.
Will scrambles all over him, partially rolling up and getting handsy. there are soft, cool kisses pressed over his face, even as he sighs (and yet still doesn't move).
and then,
and then –
Will presses his fingertips into his horn, into the soft, velvety texture along his scalp. damn, why is he so weak to this? with another hn he melts bonelessly into the daybed. ]
How many times could marriage take?
[ he doesn't expect Will to answer that, he's just being a silly grump.
[ Trapped! Pinned! Once again, King Wilhelm has Louis Guiabern conquered in the most delicious way — as he has conquered Louis many times before, and will presumably continue to conquer Louis for ever after. He giggles when Louis grunts, mischievously pleased; his husband seems to be trying not to give in to the pleasure, even though his body is already sinking bonelessly into the cushions underneath him.
Should he be allowed to feel this triumphant over such a small victory? Will coos lovingly and pets those horns ever more intensely — yes, at the slow, indulgent, unhurried pace that he's learned Louis seems to like. So slow, so sweet, so tender... It's as if this perfect lazy afternoon could stretch on for years and years and years, filling the holes in Louis's heart for all the other years past that left him hollow and forlorn and loveless, full of hatred for a world that had only ever brought him pain.
Now it brings him Will, staring at him with big soft eyes like he's the most beautiful thing in the world, rubbing him into dreamy compliance. Truly, how the tables turn. ]
You're so beautiful, so sweet to me... my sleeping beauty...
[ Is his grumpiness really what one would describe as sweet? Will seems pleased with it, though... ]
[ perhaps it's that he'll never be used to affection, so Will receives this treatment each time, a little bit of surprise, a little bit of acceptance. more and more as Louis eases into allowing himself to be close to someone. Will tends to him the way that he likes, making it difficult to keep his ill-tempered frown. it's only been a few months, and Will's diligence in caring for him means that he knows just how to touch him. ]
I'm not either of those things.
[ but for the first time, Louis doesn't sound that commanding or convincing, instead it comes out like a soft gruff, the closest he gets to whining. it's so hard to complain when Will is allowing his fingers to press alongside that nice place on his horns, just under the mass of flaxen hair, like some sort of expert horn-rubber. ]
I'm very dangerous. You've heard the rumors.
[ yeah, but he doesn't look dangerous at all like this. ]
[ He's grumpy, and growling, and he's trying his best to be gruff, but Louis also looks like a fluffy cat that's gone flat with relaxation, flopped into the cushions, baring his soft belly to Will's touch. Will rubs into the exact spot on his horns that he's noticed Louis seems to respond particularly well to, and is promptly rewarded by the sound of Louis's voice going even softer, sweeter.
His husband's voice is low, but it's not actually especially deep. Will likes that, though — likes it when only he gets to hear just how whiny and boyish his Louis can get under the right circumstances. ]
Have I? Maybe I haven't. You should tell me of these rumors — spare me the trip down to the Honeybee. I've given that old rumormonger enough of my coin.
[ The stimulation to Louis's horns is soon accompanied by a full-blown scalp massage. Will drags his nails lightly over Louis's scalp, sifting through the waves of flaxen hair, and then rubs the pads of his fingertips deeply into it, rolling all around the crown of his head, the back of his skull, round and around where Louis's magic anchors his horns to his temples. Ah, he's so lovely, so perfect... ]
[ he's living through his teens again now that he's able to be safe and comfortable, probably. ]
Aren't you feeling cheeky. The worst comes from you, you know. You could compile a list of the crimes of Louis Guiabern, and sell them back to that rumormongering associate of yours for twice the coin.
[ it's hard to keep up now, especially with Will working his fingers through his hair, putting pressure against his scalp. all of his base instincts are screaming for him to get up, to leave any claim to pleasure, but even if he heeded that call, he's unable to do so – it just feels far too good.
a deep, long sigh comes from his chest, out through his lips as he deflates more. though he supposes that there are few out here that could say that the king has tended to them, and where Louis once wanted to be king, he is now the object of the king's affection, and is allowed more leniency than the king himself.
[ Will laughs a little at Louis's suggestion. He won't do anything of the sort, of course (though perhaps it is true that Louis ought to be prosecuted for some of the crimes committed in his name in the later days of scarlet skies before Will ascended to the throne, but those had largely been taken care of by Eupha on an individual basis) — he likes Louis where he is right now, with the ball and chain of his imprisonment in the form of the ring that sometimes graces his finger. Still, Will seizes on the scenario, play-acting at what he'll tell the ishkia rumormonger that always skulks about in Fabienne's establishment: ]
"Have you heard? Louis Guiabern turns into an absolute kitten when he's with the king!"
[ He lets up on Louis's horn massage, in part because he suspects that its efficacy will lessen if he gives Louis too many horn rubs, and in part because he wants to see if the man will go so far as to demand more from him. With one last kiss for the tip of one of Louis's horns, Will settles in his lap again and rubs his fingers beneath Louis's chin, cooing in a teasing tone: ]
Here, kitty, kitty, kitty...
[ Maybe kitty would be well within his rights to bite... or otherwise get his revenge upon his demeaning, evil little husband. Ah, but he's so cute...! ]
[ there are some that have probably already noticed that his expression changes with the king is around, even the senate who Louis despises. some of the castle staff have noticed that if they mention that they're explicitly doing something for the king, that Louis will allow them more grace (especially in the way of the softness his feature take on). it's an odd line in the sand, one where Louis will get violent if crossed. those know not test their limits with it. ]
Oh? And what would someone do with such information?
[ he inquires, still playing gruff. ]
The only one who could take advantage of it would be the king himself. After all, those that would come after the king's consort could find themselves at his behest, and he's less a kitten and more a beast under circumstances that do not befit him.
[ the pressure is gone from his horns – from his head – and now he feels odd without Will's touch. there's a soft, phantom tingle where his fingers have left, not quite an itch, but a reminder. perhaps he is a kitten for the king, but he doesn't seem to refute it.
You're right. Nobody would pay for that, except for me.
[ Louis is playing gruff, but Will is all affection. The great and mighty king of Euchronia decides to curl up into something of a little ball while resting on his husband's chest — an endeavor which is possible due to the sheer difference in their physiques — wrapping his arms loosely around Louis's body as he does so. He seems quite comfortable, suffused with the satisfaction of knowing that he's rubbed his husband into a tingly afterglow. ]
My cute little kitten... my dangerous beast...
[ It's funny: the king is usually at least a little bit selfish, but he finds for the moment that he has no particular desires of his own. He just wants to make Louis feel good, and if Louis feels good then he's done his job as the king today. (The stack of bills and pronouncements on his desk? That's Gallica's problem now!) ]
I'm the luckiest man in the kingdom, because I have you.
[ Well... uh... that might actually be true, all things considered. Not the having Louis part, just the... he is stupidly lucky. ]
[ it's not even as if Louis can deny it, or that he wants to. certainly, it's something he'd openly admit to anyone. there are many qualities of Louis Guiabern: he's a charismatic genius, a violent meritocratic tyrant, a cunning politician and a simp for the king. the rumor would not be a concern to him, as anyone who wished to use it against him or the king would ultimately find consequence awaiting at the end of his blade. it had been a lifetime of work to get to the point where he did not want to hide, and the king deserves someone of strength to stand beside him.
he even thinks that his devotion occasional unnerves the Senate, as well as any naysayers. there is no one in Euchronia that could say their marriage was purely political, even if that was the legs it original stood on. ]
It's always strange to hear you say that.
[ he's always been a threat, never a blessing unless it was to those following him. ]
If you call me kitten in chambers, I'm certain that the Senate will have something to say about it. You are free to do with it as you will.
[ as in, he gives Will permission to use that pet name anywhere he wants. why not? not only is it rather amusing, it is sort of true. ]
[ ...Louis wants Will to call him "kitten" in front of the Senate.
Louis. Wants Will. To call him "kitten." In front of the Senate.
Will doesn't think he can think of anything funnier than this, though he manages not to laugh. He rolls on top of Louis so that their bellies are pressed together, peering up at his handsome husband with a wide-eyed, inquisitive, even sort of faintly expectant smile.
Even if he has malicious intent in mind, his husband is truly so cute... ]
Then... I'm going to do it! I'm going to make sure everyone in the Senate knows that you're my little kitten!
[ He's absolutely radiant just thinking about this. There's no doubt that Will is going to drop this in the middle of a meeting with utter relish. The great and mighty Count Louis Guiabern, his sweet, loving kitten. A proud man, a great man, a dangerous mage — and the king's beautiful, loving, doting, docile kitten.
(He's only docile so long as he wants to be, of course.) ]
And that they can't get in the way of our marriage. But mostly that you're my kitten.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
@luciferi
[ He is very small, and very sweet, and very stupid, and this has all been another elaborate excuse for him to get out of the daily monotony of passing bills and approving the sundry proposals of the kingdom — so of course it doesn't take Will very long so sneak back into his quarters like a little mouse.
Honestly, he didn't take the throne to become a paper-pusher! So Will has been fighting poor Hulkenberg and Gallica for days... and he's largely very successful at it. He's learned new little tricks: that barrier spell that once only Zorba could weave? Will's developed his own version of it, one that requires less time to cast in exchange for covering less surface area: this he uses now to close his bedroom door. Even if they think to find him here, they'll never get in!
Smug, he immediately flounces over to his "poisoned" husband, preening and obviously presenting himself for the hugs and cuddles he was promised. ]
Louiii~is... are you feeling ill?
[ He sounds so impishly satisfied with himself. Hee hee hee! ]
no subject
Louis has already positioned himself daybed by their personal library, partially draped over the side of the ornamental backing with surprisingly delicate precision. Louis is large, but he holds himself well, and he looks light resting back against the cushions, eyes closed beneath long lashes as if he were in slumber. it's all a show, of course, the prize that Will received with the little playful trick of the fake poison, but Louis plays the part as well as he played the lowly soldier for his king.
he does not respond, even as he hears the door click, as if the poison has taken full effect and he is within it's grip. his hair hangs to frame his face, curling over his cheeks and partially brushing against his parted lips. each breath is long, causing his chest to swell and his hair to flutter as it comes out his mouth. he's certainly ripe for whatever taking that his king – or perhaps passing prince – desires. ]
no subject
So beautiful, all for me...
[ He truly does look like some prince from a fairy tale, cursed and waiting for a savior to arrive. (Sometimes, Will wonders: wasn't he like that, only so long ago? If they had met then under different circumstances — if Louis had not learned that the prince was still alive after killing his father and forsaking his country — would it have been Louis riding back to the eldan sanctum, to deliver true love's kiss to the sleeping prince?) With a faint ache in his heart, thinking of all they've lost together, Will leans forward — ]
My love... Won't you wake with true love's kiss?
[ All his for the taking, so Will takes what he pleases, pressing a soft, full, warm kiss to Louis's lips. Then, feeling still more greedy, he loops his arms around Louis's slim waist and kisses him some more. ]
no subject
he's settled into his skin well, both as a writer and a poet, even if he's the king. in their time together, Louis has learned Will's taste in novels, filled with longing and adventure scrawled in bright prose. perhaps there's some truth in that sort of fantasy, mingling in the words that would construct their own world.
(there wasn't a time when Louis used to think that way, but he feels it more and more as he spends time with Will, as it sinks into him and peeks from the back of his brain until he urges it back again. it's haunting him with hope.)
in this case they've switched, haven't they? Louis finds the whole thing amusingly ironic, in his own, dry way, allowing Will to be the valiant rescuer, just as someone could not rescue him. in his own dramatic reenactment, he can feel Will's breath as he lowers, warm and sweet, and the brush of his nose, then his mouth.
it's soft at first, before the greedy king leans down and takes more. ]
Quite the show, my king. Perhaps my prince, considering the circumstances.
[ he tilts his head. ]
As you can see, I'm saved.
no subject
Overcome with need, Will wiggles his way into Louis's lap on the daybed, until he's firmly astride his husband's hips. ]
Ah, are you? I think you should have more of the antidote so that we can be sure.
[ More kisses! More cuddles! More of an absolutely devoted, besotted king who loves you to the point of near-madness! (Though it's a good thing that Will is so sensible; if things had been different, maybe he really would have followed Louis into madness.) The young king rubs his soft nose along Louis's neck, fingers reaching greedily for his pretty golden hair; he presses a kiss to Louis's jugular, where he can feel, faintly, the gentle beating of his heart. ]
My royal knight, your prince has come to save you...
[ So this is today's scenario? Rather than the cursed prince asleep in his bed, Will would go on an adventure to save his poisoned knight instead. Well, that is very like him, and if the world had been kinder, perhaps Louis truly could have been his loyal knight. So it goes. ]
no subject
A prince coming to save his knight is a twist in the tale I hadn't expected. Are you contemplating writing and publishing that one?
[ with a slight, subtle turn, he gives Will a broader range to spread himself over, opening himself to little kisses and the cuddles that the king loves so much. an arm lazily rests over Will's waist to keep him steady. an accidental fall from the daybed would ruin the mood.
well, Will had been the one to save himself in a way, hadn't he? in the way neither the former king nor Louis could – a part of his own sense of preservation, or self love. Louis hadn't thought about it too deeply before, but he thinks about it now as Will spreads over him and coos over his slumbering knight. ]
no subject
Should I? Would you like it?
[ He wiggles and settles, weight firmly planted over Louis's body in the daybed, happy and comfortable and cuddling just the way he wanted to. Louis is now drinking quite deeply of his antidote, indeed. What a wonderful treatment to indulge in. ]
Some people might say that the king shouldn't write novels...
[ As an abuse of power, in some ways — won't all citizens feel compelled to buy it? — but also, ahem, after what happened to the last king who dared to publish a book... and found himself censored by the church. Will knows that dark history better than most. They both do. ]
But... I'll do it if you'll be my first reader.
no subject
If there are concerns over distribution, you could choose a pseudonym. Your stately duties shouldn't keep you from your own pursuing your passions, or you'll quickly learn to resent them. If all goes well no one will find out until we're both long gone.
[ he's aware that Will may not want to take the same missteps as his father, but putting a hamper on Will's own creativity seems an undue caution. the people need their king, of course, but Louis has enough resentment for the senate (and most of the people), to urge Will to pursue. well, that, and he can't help but be curious on what his king will produce. he's read some of Will's poetry, as well as his other writings, and it seems . ]
Though if you wish to contract me as your editor, I would have you know that I am rather brutal in my reviews.
[ it's somewhat of a joke as a comment on his own nature, particularly because he's read Will's writing and quite likes it.
luckily when Will's resting with his consort, most know to leave them alone where they would normally bother the king into another dull duty. with Louis, he will easily stare anyone down that merely knocks or approaches, giving Will a reprieve. ]
no subject
I accept you in all your brutality, Lord Louis. You can be the first to read my drafts.
[ He hums, burying his nose in Louis's sternum for a moment before he resurfaces again. ]
What should my writer's psuedonym be? Hm... Would it be bold to continue using "Wilhelm"? There are plenty of Wilhelms in the kingdom, so I think it might be safe... I could be Wilhelm More.
[ Idly, Will half-wonders what his husband thinks of his father nowadays... He himself has no strong opinions; he loved his father as More but can understand Louis's disappointment with Hythlodaeus V. He's curiously watching Louis's face for a reaction. ]
Or something unrelated, perhaps? Thomas... Alice... John Metaphor...
[ He taps out a short rhythm against Louis's chest with the tips of his fingers. ]
Will Charadrius...
no subject
the king chatters a bit and Louis settles lazily to listen, making a bemused hn! at the idea of Wilhelm More. while Louis killed the king out of anger, resentment, and what he felt was need, he can't say that Hythlodaeus didn't pull a rather impressive trick with that election. still, he doesn't regret what he did. ]
John Metaphor sounds very suspiciously like a pseudonym that you may be able to convince people of its legitimacy, though if you wish to take on the name Charadrius, you'll most likely get questions in regards to being a fan of my skyrunner.
[ which actually is kind of funny.
Louis remains fairly still with all of Will's moving and drumming, occasionally, running a hand up and down his waist absently. ]
no subject
[ Will Charadrius it is, then. (Goodbye, John Metaphor.) This is in part because Will cannot seriously conceive of his own name being John, but also because the connection between Will and Wilhelm should be obvious, and a secret part of him would revel in the joy of being caught by his subjects. If they don't catch him? Even better. How could they have missed the writing of their king when he didn't even particularly try to hide his identity?
Shyly, Will reveals additional reasoning behind the nom de plume he's apparently settled on: ]
Besides, if we had gotten married in the village...
[ ...He trails off without finishing that thought, body tensing slightly above Louis's, although he relaxes once that big hand runs over his waist again. Apparently some nervousness has seized him, which is very funny, because the object of his romantic desires is currently pinned beneath him and already joined to him in holy matrimony. But Will is still a very sweet, innocent young man, and this is one of those slightly childish thoughts that seems embarrassing to reveal out loud (though he's already partially revealed it). ]
...M-Maybe you wouldn't even have liked me if we'd grown up together...
no subject
he does what he knows how to do best: he speaks matter-of-factly of his own beliefs. ]
Married in the village? No, certainly not. The Eldan Sanctum would have felt like a cage. Neither you nor I would've stayed in that place long enough, we would have chosen a life of travel far before we were of age to be married.
[ that is true. there is a love of travel that they both have that none of the other elda shared, and Louis is certain that if they grew up together, that it was the sentiment they would have shared. ]
If you're contemplating our nuptials in this scenario of yours, we would've had them upon whatever skyrunner we procured, far above Euchronia.
[ it's something that he never really thought about, really, Louis is someone who lives for the ambitions in the moment, always thinking about how he can twist certain situations in his own favor – or the favor of whatever utopia had he had been chasing. it's different now, but thinking about the fire – what became of them – it still haunts him in some respect. he finds that there's a space there when he talks about it with Will, as he never really had anyone else who could understand that vulnerability of his.
that makes it feel a bit better in a way he doesn't like to admit, but settles in without vocalizing it. ]
no subject
What if you never loved me, Will asks, in a silly way, and Louis replies, I would have always loved you.
It makes the young king brighten, smiling softly in the way that Louis has likely learned he always does. He leans forward, pressing soft kisses, punctuated by one little fresh lovebite, to Louis's neck. This, too, is familiar: he coos out, sing-song — ]
Louiiiis... I — [ a kiss ] — love you — [ kiss ] — sooooo — [ kiss ] — much...
[ How many times has Louis heard this odd refrain by now? Louis, I love you sooooo much. And yet, Will seems to mean it, each and every time... ]
Let's get married again and again and again! [ ...He can't be serious. Or is he? ] Let's run around the world together... let's, let's...
[ Ah, never mind words. He's just going to collapse into a heap of kisses for Louis: to his neck, his jaw, his lips, his cheeks... Will will even shift up onto his knees to give Louis kisses to his horns. (He should be wearing them, surely? True, they are in the privacy of the king's bedchamber, but it is only midday!) ]
no subject
honestly, he did not expect this sort of response – he never does, because here he thought he was speaking his mind more than he meant to sooth his lover, but Will is crawling on him and pushing him down and kissing him and he once again wonders how did this happen? ]
You are impossible.
[ but it doesn't sound like much of a protest coming from a man who could lift the king off and slink somewhere else if he disliked being this showered with affection. he is unused to it, perhaps – even with Will, due to a lifetime of personal neglect, and it's still something he doesn't quite know how to respond to.
there goes the king, putting his mouth on his horns too. ]
We're already married.
no subject
I can still marry you again. I'll marry you as many times as it takes.
[ As many times as it takes until... what? Until Louis finally understands that Will adores him? Until Will is satisfied, more probably. He settles his body comfortably in Louis's hold again; as usual, he expects Louis to accommodate him, but as usual, they manage to be very comfortable with each other all the same. ]
As many times as you want me... because I want you infinitely, all the time, always...
no subject
Will scrambles all over him, partially rolling up and getting handsy. there are soft, cool kisses pressed over his face, even as he sighs (and yet still doesn't move).
and then,
and then –
Will presses his fingertips into his horn, into the soft, velvety texture along his scalp. damn, why is he so weak to this? with another hn he melts bonelessly into the daybed. ]
How many times could marriage take?
[ he doesn't expect Will to answer that, he's just being a silly grump.
help him, save him, he's completely trapped. ]
no subject
Should he be allowed to feel this triumphant over such a small victory? Will coos lovingly and pets those horns ever more intensely — yes, at the slow, indulgent, unhurried pace that he's learned Louis seems to like. So slow, so sweet, so tender... It's as if this perfect lazy afternoon could stretch on for years and years and years, filling the holes in Louis's heart for all the other years past that left him hollow and forlorn and loveless, full of hatred for a world that had only ever brought him pain.
Now it brings him Will, staring at him with big soft eyes like he's the most beautiful thing in the world, rubbing him into dreamy compliance. Truly, how the tables turn. ]
You're so beautiful, so sweet to me... my sleeping beauty...
[ Is his grumpiness really what one would describe as sweet? Will seems pleased with it, though... ]
no subject
I'm not either of those things.
[ but for the first time, Louis doesn't sound that commanding or convincing, instead it comes out like a soft gruff, the closest he gets to whining. it's so hard to complain when Will is allowing his fingers to press alongside that nice place on his horns, just under the mass of flaxen hair, like some sort of expert horn-rubber. ]
I'm very dangerous. You've heard the rumors.
[ yeah, but he doesn't look dangerous at all like this. ]
no subject
His husband's voice is low, but it's not actually especially deep. Will likes that, though — likes it when only he gets to hear just how whiny and boyish his Louis can get under the right circumstances. ]
Have I? Maybe I haven't. You should tell me of these rumors — spare me the trip down to the Honeybee. I've given that old rumormonger enough of my coin.
[ The stimulation to Louis's horns is soon accompanied by a full-blown scalp massage. Will drags his nails lightly over Louis's scalp, sifting through the waves of flaxen hair, and then rubs the pads of his fingertips deeply into it, rolling all around the crown of his head, the back of his skull, round and around where Louis's magic anchors his horns to his temples. Ah, he's so lovely, so perfect... ]
no subject
Aren't you feeling cheeky. The worst comes from you, you know. You could compile a list of the crimes of Louis Guiabern, and sell them back to that rumormongering associate of yours for twice the coin.
[ it's hard to keep up now, especially with Will working his fingers through his hair, putting pressure against his scalp. all of his base instincts are screaming for him to get up, to leave any claim to pleasure, but even if he heeded that call, he's unable to do so – it just feels far too good.
a deep, long sigh comes from his chest, out through his lips as he deflates more. though he supposes that there are few out here that could say that the king has tended to them, and where Louis once wanted to be king, he is now the object of the king's affection, and is allowed more leniency than the king himself.
well, that's a thought, isn't it? ]
no subject
"Have you heard? Louis Guiabern turns into an absolute kitten when he's with the king!"
[ He lets up on Louis's horn massage, in part because he suspects that its efficacy will lessen if he gives Louis too many horn rubs, and in part because he wants to see if the man will go so far as to demand more from him. With one last kiss for the tip of one of Louis's horns, Will settles in his lap again and rubs his fingers beneath Louis's chin, cooing in a teasing tone: ]
Here, kitty, kitty, kitty...
[ Maybe kitty would be well within his rights to bite... or otherwise get his revenge upon his demeaning, evil little husband. Ah, but he's so cute...! ]
no subject
Oh? And what would someone do with such information?
[ he inquires, still playing gruff. ]
The only one who could take advantage of it would be the king himself. After all, those that would come after the king's consort could find themselves at his behest, and he's less a kitten and more a beast under circumstances that do not befit him.
[ the pressure is gone from his horns – from his head – and now he feels odd without Will's touch. there's a soft, phantom tingle where his fingers have left, not quite an itch, but a reminder. perhaps he is a kitten for the king, but he doesn't seem to refute it.
no, it's his now. ]
no subject
[ Louis is playing gruff, but Will is all affection. The great and mighty king of Euchronia decides to curl up into something of a little ball while resting on his husband's chest — an endeavor which is possible due to the sheer difference in their physiques — wrapping his arms loosely around Louis's body as he does so. He seems quite comfortable, suffused with the satisfaction of knowing that he's rubbed his husband into a tingly afterglow. ]
My cute little kitten... my dangerous beast...
[ It's funny: the king is usually at least a little bit selfish, but he finds for the moment that he has no particular desires of his own. He just wants to make Louis feel good, and if Louis feels good then he's done his job as the king today. (The stack of bills and pronouncements on his desk? That's Gallica's problem now!) ]
I'm the luckiest man in the kingdom, because I have you.
[ Well... uh... that might actually be true, all things considered. Not the having Louis part, just the... he is stupidly lucky. ]
no subject
he even thinks that his devotion occasional unnerves the Senate, as well as any naysayers. there is no one in Euchronia that could say their marriage was purely political, even if that was the legs it original stood on. ]
It's always strange to hear you say that.
[ he's always been a threat, never a blessing unless it was to those following him. ]
If you call me kitten in chambers, I'm certain that the Senate will have something to say about it. You are free to do with it as you will.
[ as in, he gives Will permission to use that pet name anywhere he wants. why not? not only is it rather amusing, it is sort of true. ]
no subject
Louis. Wants Will. To call him "kitten." In front of the Senate.
Will doesn't think he can think of anything funnier than this, though he manages not to laugh. He rolls on top of Louis so that their bellies are pressed together, peering up at his handsome husband with a wide-eyed, inquisitive, even sort of faintly expectant smile.
Even if he has malicious intent in mind, his husband is truly so cute... ]
Then... I'm going to do it! I'm going to make sure everyone in the Senate knows that you're my little kitten!
[ He's absolutely radiant just thinking about this. There's no doubt that Will is going to drop this in the middle of a meeting with utter relish. The great and mighty Count Louis Guiabern, his sweet, loving kitten. A proud man, a great man, a dangerous mage — and the king's beautiful, loving, doting, docile kitten.
(He's only docile so long as he wants to be, of course.) ]
And that they can't get in the way of our marriage. But mostly that you're my kitten.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
♥