033 » they bowed to us like kings

[haillenarte]

[even the thirteen most powerful men in ishgard need to hone their skills from time to time.

ordinarily, the knights of the heavens' ward are given their partners. zephirin and vellguine plan assignments in advance, pairing the members of their ward according to their strengths and what weaknesses need to be addressed. last week, vellguine correctly surmised that francel found it difficult to evade spells; he spent bells dodging haumeric's conjured icicles and boulders, and still has bruises where the conjurer's volley found its mark.

today, however, practice is lax. the knights have been given free reign to choose their partners as they please; unsurprisingly, they all fall back upon old friendships. ser ignasse gravitates towards ser vellguine like a dog to its master; sers grinnaux and paulecrain pair off against one another, and fill the air with their deep-throated shouts. sers adelphel and janlenoux, as always, clash swords and dart around the room as elegantly as lovers engaged in dance (francel has long suspected that janlenoux would place higher than the eleventh seat if only he could bring himself to unleash his full fury upon adelphel). surprisingly, ser hermenost seeks out ser guerrique, perhaps hoping to imbue some calm and wisdom upon the younger axe-bearer. their mages congregate in a corner, heatedly debating the finer points of magickal theory.

that leaves ser francel with ser zephirin — the thirteenth and the first.

upon reflection, they make for an excellent match. both are shieldless swordsmen, unlike adelphel and janlenoux, but where zephirin wields a two-handed greatsword, francel prefers a one-handed rapier. francel holds it before him, drawing his fingers slowly along the dull edge of the blade.]

It would seem we are both unencumbered.

[it is a delicate jab towards their shieldlessness.]

Comments

[valhourdin]

[ Francel's kisses are worshipful, loving, thorough — as Zephirin remembers them. With the exception of their first kiss, each touch thus far has remained chaste, but the young knight already seems deeply affected by the mere prospect of love, quivering as though his body strains to rein in his desire, on the verge of overflowing. Francel's reward is a caress for his diligent mouth.

Seated atop the desk as he is, the unchaste product of their touches is in full view between Francel's thighs, even clad in layers of fabric.

Zephirin's gaze lowers. A moment later, he rises, standing over Francel with his free hand placed beside the thirteenth's knee, bending down until his lips and nose brush against Francel's ear.

His mind retrieves another memory: Francel's wish for a repeat of their forbidden closeness. ]

...As promised, I will detain you not overlong, but you have my leave to rest here tonight.

[haillenarte]

[francel's dearest wish, of course, is to be thoroughly dominated and disciplined by zephirin. to have the man looming over him now, making francel feel small and fragile (though he is not himself an exceptionally small man), is almost more than the young knight can bear. he almost smiles for the joy of it —

then zephirin whispers into francel's ear, all warm lips and hot breath and ticklish pleasure against his eardrum, and all caution is thrown to the winds.

for a moment, the ward's thirteenth looks positively debauched over that simple gesture — his head tips back, lips parted, as he seems to ride the wave of pleasure elicited by that quiet whisper. his neck and shoulders cringe; he trembles, ashamed of his baser impulses.]

M-My ears...

[whimpering, casting a desperate, pleading look in zephirin's direction, francel wraps his arms around his commander's waist, apparently seeking forgiveness.]

Forgive me, I... My ears are overly sensitive. I did not hear... your words...

[valhourdin]

[ Made curious rather than offended by Francel's admission, though not overfond of repeating himself, Zephirin places a few ilms of space between them to study Francel and note the effect of so light a touch to his ear. The response is not dissimilar to certain others previously witnessed; that light touch, naught more than fleeting warmth and vibrations of sound, appears to spur him towards yielding to his body's reawakened need.

For now, Zephirin avoids Francel's overly sensitive ears. ]

Rest here for the night. Have no fear, no one will disturb you.

[ No one will ask questions — all that took place was their conversation. ]

[haillenarte]

[francel nods, dazed; he sees only the light flickering in zephirin's beautiful green eyes, hears only zephirin's voice still trickling like cold water down his neck.]

As... as you wish...

[no. not like that. he does not want to make it sound as though he is surrendering his every desire to zephirin's whims. he struggles visibly to put himself together; he tries again.]

That is... I would like that very much.

[valhourdin]

[ Francel makes a conscious choice to adjust the phrasing of his acquiescence, and these efforts, too, do not go unrewarded. Zephirin's approval is palpable as he very lightly runs the pad of his thumb along Francel's jaw to his earlobe, but claims Francel's lips for a firmer kiss, deepened to linger.

He breaks it in the end, however, truly meaning to release Francel to bed. ]

[haillenarte]

[other men might express displeasure over the unsated desire that yet strains at their trousers — but not francel. the young knight merely smiles at his rewarded efforts. he pulls his legs together in an effort to hide himself. zephirin's tenderness has won him over; the warmth of zephirin's lips, still lingering, has damned him to his fate.

if he is not in love with zephirin, he is at the very least slavishly devoted to him.]

...Will you rest with me?

[valhourdin]

Later.

[ Even the Very Reverend Archimandrite of the Heavens' Ward must sleep — and welcomes a few bells of rest, in fact. But Francel holds him clasped around the waist, and Zephirin yet leans over the young knight. Contemplatively, his fingers resume their journey beyond Francel's earlobe, mapping a path across one of his overly sensitive ears. ]

[haillenarte]

Mnnnh —

[still smiling, francel squirms like a slippery minnow when his ears are touched; his arms squeeze even tighter around zephirin's waist. it is plain to see that he enjoys having his ears thus stroked — his reddened lips part just the tiniest bit as he stifles a moan in his throat. tingling pleasure crawls pleasantly along his ears and scalp, leaving him with a desperate craving for more.]

Wh-What is it...?

[valhourdin]

[ In answer, Zephirin lowers his head to bring it nearer Francel's again, and he deliberately touches his lips to Francel's ear, pausing there. He is reminded of Francel's soft gasps against his own ear, of every rapturous sound from Francel's mouth, every declaration of love made in the heat of the moment.

Taking a corner of the young knight's ear between slightly parted lips, he tastes Francel's skin. ]

[haillenarte]

[it is a taste, only a taste, but francel reacts as if zephirin's mouth touches him elsewhere — indeed, to see his reaction alone, one might suppose that zephirin's tongue caressed him between his legs and not at the tip of his ear. the young knight shivers from head to toe; his grip around zephirin's waist suddenly loosens. once more do his lips part — but this time, the barest tip of francel's pretty pink tongue rests heavy on his bottom lip, as though his tongue has involuntarily reached out to taste the pleasure tickling through his spine from his ears.]

Aaah — Z-Zephi — nngh —

[valhourdin]

[ They should not do this again, they both acknowledge, but Zephirin breathes warmth against Francel's ear, rubs the tip of his nose and Francel's earlobe together, not unlike Francel's teasing, tantalizing touches in the baths. There is a point to prove, an objective at the end of this.

Zephirin's self-control is yet untouched. Again he pauses, only to murmur a question for Francel to hear. ]

Yes?

[haillenarte]

[that single syllable leaves francel aching, fantasizing about an entire evening with zephirin whispering sweet nothings in his lovely low voice. the ward's thirteenth is so tightly wound that he gnaws on the knuckle of his index finger to stop himself from his shameful moaning. even so, the sweet affection that zephirin showers onto his ears leaves him shaking and shivering — begging for more with his body if not his words. he speaks thickly, muffled as if through some distant veil.]

W... Why are you...?

[valhourdin]

[ The desk quakes with Francel's trembling. Drawing back some ilms, Zephirin gazes down at the young knight; his caresses have left no marks on Francel's skin, but Francel's teeth are like to leave their imprint upon the finger caught between them. He moves his hand, covering Francel's knuckles. ]

Shall I leave you be?

[ This he asks softly, though Francel's body has made its wishes known and Francel does not speak out in protest, nor pull away from his spot, the desk beneath him and Zephirin above. ]

[haillenarte]

No... No, please...

[with his hand gently caught in his commander's, freed from his mouth, francel draws closer to zephirin — as if hooked by some unseen force, pulled along by something more powerful than his mortal coil. he, too, presses his nose against zephirin's ear, nuzzling slowly; he does his best to be loving, obedient, inoffensive.]

I... I love this. I just — just don't understand why...

[valhourdin]

[ Zephirin's next breath taken catches audibly. His eyelids sink to half-mast and lower; his lashes meet his cheeks. Francel's touch is not unpleasant, sweetly affectionate instead of heated.

They both exercise self-control.

Lifting Francel's hand to his lips, Zephirin kisses the faint traces of the indentations made by the thirteenth's teeth, and he links their fingers. When he gives Francel his reply, he takes teasing words — Francel's own — and wields them like a gentler promise. ]

All in good time.

[haillenarte]

[francel squeezes their linked fingers, leaning forward just enough to press a new kiss to zephirin's lips. he likes this, these tender touches, sweet, innocently stolen kisses — this lovemaking that is not lovemaking. he could be happy if only this could go on forever.

though there is still the matter of his arousal to will away, francel pulls back, shifting his legs. he wonders whether zephirin means to send him to bed or keep him perched upon the desk. perhaps zephirin will lean forward and touch his ears some more — perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

francel wonders what he is supposed to do for zephirin in return.]

...You are so enticing...

[valhourdin]

[ Zephirin does lean forward, as if to chase Francel's kiss, and as if in apology, aware of the young knight's prolonged discomfort, his unoccupied hand comes to rest upon Francel's thigh — but his fingers only smooth away a crease in Francel's trousers. Perhaps they seem as lovers once again while the world around them is unchanged. ]

As are you, Ser Francel. How am I to keep my promise?

[ It sounds a genuine trial to part ways, and although it is in truth a simple matter of moving apart and retiring to bed, Zephirin's words are sincere to some degree, for Francel repeatedly, consistently captivates his focus. ]

[haillenarte]

[francel lifts his free hand, gently touching zephirin's face. his fingers tip to one side, then slide along the bottom of zephirin's jawline at a slow and unhurried pace, leaving behind ticklish warmth.

his whisper is soft and seductive.]

Break it.

[valhourdin]

And then?

[ Their eyes meet. Perhaps he knows the answer, if Francel's every confession was truthful. He did not surrender his self-control to the last onze; he did not beg, nor take Francel wildly. Perhaps, were they in love, need for his beloved would overpower even him.

Perhaps.

Zephirin takes his palm from Francel's thigh, intercepting Francel's roaming hand, fingers laid upon his wrist. ]

[haillenarte]

...Do what you will with me.

[their left and right hands are still linked; now, their right and left hands touch. francel's eyes remain fixed upon zephirin's. he licks his lips reflexively — begging for more kisses with his body alone.]

If there is anything you desire, Zephirin, I would grant it. Anything at all..

[valhourdin]

[ Zephirin's hands are still; his gaze roams in their stead, wandering to Francel's mouth, to the tip of Francel's tongue. He senses himself stir as vivid memories exert their power over his body, made sharper by each new observation in Francel's proximity, but such instincts will be quelled.

He has other plans. ]

There is.

[ He concedes, without naming his desire. Tilting his torso toward Francel, head angled in preparation to claim another kiss, he hovers close, allowing their noses to connect in a brief touch. ]

It remains the same.

[ Then Zephirin steps back, out from between Francel's legs, away from the desk's edge, seating himself in his chair behind him. His fingertips hook around the ends of Francel's fingers, beckoning for the young knight to approach and sit where he will. ]

[haillenarte]

[sufficiently teased by that gentle brush of zephirin's nose, francel, too, slides off of the desk's edge. his feet touch the ground. the young knight stands for a moment, hesitant, but at zephirin's subtle urging, he steps closer once more, settling into his commander's lap.

francel feels comfortable and warm, and — dressed as he is in his sleepwear — he seems somehow small and soft.]

Does it? [he frowns.] What is your desire?

[valhourdin]

[ Disregarding his body's current opinions, Zephirin firmly desires to silence the turmoil that has plagued Francel — naught else, naught more. To that end, he smiles his approval when Francel accepts his wordless invitation, and he gives Francel his apparent answer by guiding him within easier reach, completing their postponed kiss then. He draws it out, lingering at Francel's bottom lip. His thumb finds the young knight's earlobe once more, caressing it while he steadily proceeds onward, taking his kisses lower in a trail from Francel's mouth to the pulse in his throat, still lower towards Francel's now covered collarbones.

Their linked hands rest between them, but Francel has more freedom of movement than he did atop the desk. ]

[haillenarte]

[though francel still does not understand zephirin's desires, he understands their kisses, their touches. this feels almost like a dream. zephirin kisses him; zephirin caresses him; zephirin lingers upon his skin. neither lukewarm water nor sturdy desk divides them now.

for once, for once, francel closes his eyes and feels loved.

that little touch to the knight's earlobe is all it takes to make him gasp. the pulse in his throat flutters against zephirin's lips; hungrily, he bares his neck for more, squeezing their joined hands in encouragement.]

Zephirin...

[valhourdin]

[ His name sounds altered in Francel's mouth, more than a sequence of syllables. Something seems altered within Zephirin himself, splitting his desires into those of his mind and those of his body; he aims for caution, careful to keep Francel's skin unblemished, but each response is another plea, flashes of temptation, and these reserved touches are not enough.

He wants nothing, needs nothing from Francel, nothing immediate — and yet his ears relish Francel's gasps, his body, not hewn from stone, welcomes Francel's as it arches even slightly in his lap.

Zephirin's reserved touches are nonetheless focused, thorough in bestowing their attention upon every exposed ilm of delicate skin. He hums what might be an acknowledgement against Francel's fluttering pulse. ]