[ Alhaitham's lips part as Aether's touch passes across them; a whisper of breath brushes against Aether's fingertips, hinting at the anticipation of what is to come. The taste of Aether's mouth and more, again and again, his bare skin warm against Alhaitham's, their bodies joined in another now-familiar dance. All of it beckons in Aether's words and caresses, promised only to the man he calls his master. All of it is theirs to savor.

And contrary to the speculations, Alhaitham's mind is his own, and he sees no reason to decline all that Aether offers him. ]

A hero-king?

[ Leaning back upon their shared seat takes Aether with him, closer, heat caught between them. The prince's hands travel down his companion's sides, past his hips to his thighs, where Alhaitham's fingers breach the hem of the thin layer of cloth draped about Aether's form.

Alhaitham's gaze is steady on Aether's features, on Aether alone, as if an enchantment woven has him firmly in its grasp. ]

It would be troublesome, if the people don't wait until I'm no longer alive to hear it. But I realize that simple peace and prosperity won't satisfy their thirst for heroic tales.

[ His body meets Aether's rocking, receptive unlike the seashore's stone cliffs that yield but slowly to the tides. ]

Your wish is easier to fulfill, Aether.