Fic: RPS (Jared/Jensen): The Lion at Starfall [2/2] | NC-17 | 11760
Back To Part 1
The faint light of dawn stained the courtyard, setting the various practice swords a glow. Here and there, young squires bustled between doorways, anticipating the needs of still sleeping knights. Jared recognized Oliver who was apprenticed to Sir Samuel and Lily who waited upon Sir Kendra. Some were still too young for him to have met, the look of childhood still clinging to their cheeks.
“Your Majesty?” Jared turned and nodded to Peter. Peter blinked slowly, taking his time to work out the math. “Are we getting another show today?”
A part of Jared wanted to tell Peter no, that Jensen’s displays were for him alone-and if alone, maybe the passion of battle would blossom to something else-but a more rational side won out. “If we are truly lucky.”
Peter shook his head. “Luck has nothing to do with it, my King.” He grinned. “Only skill.”
“So you tell me and yet here I wait.”
“Oh, not for long, I imagine.” Peter nodded at the figure that was leaning against one of the veranda’s support posts. Jensen’s arms were crossed and he was staring steadily across the field at Jared. His former entourage was nowhere to be found. Jared started.
“Has he been there long?” he whispered.
“As long as you have,” Peter confirmed. He gave Jared a friendly nudge. “Skill, Sire. It’s all skill.” Jared shoved him off and strode across the yard to the training area.
“I hope you slept well?”
Jensen nodded, moving to join Jared on the field. “You are early.”
“And so are you.”
Smiling, Jensen tossed him a wooden sword. “Then we may begin.”
Jared tested it out, finding it marginally acceptable. He slipped down in a prepared pose, his sword at the ready.
Jensen didn’t immediately follow suit, instead standing straight and pointing his sword at the ground. He bowed forward. “May your sword hold true and bring you unending glory and honor.”
Another Redding ritual, Jared guessed, but one he didn’t know. He mimicked Jensen’s earlier pose, standing upright with his sword pointing downward. Not knowing if he was meant to repeat Jensen’s phrase or say something else, he looked helplessly at Jensen.
“Honor to the worthy opponent. May your sword bring you the favor of the gods,” Jensen said and Jared repeated the phrase, bowing as he had seen Jensen do. The ritual completed, Jensen brought his sword up and stepped into battle, bending his knees and holding his body loose. A grin spread across his face.
Jared echoed him and they circled each other, waiting to see who would strike first.
Jensen struck, his sword rapidly stabbing toward Jared with a small flick of his wrist. Jared dodged to the side and the blade missed him only by inches. Jensen was not compliantly waiting this time. It was exhilarating.
Jared gave a return swing and Jensen countered it with a hard clack of their swords, then spun to slice at Jared’s mid-section. Jared jumped back, then retook the ground with a powerful overhand strike. Jensen rolled, cat-like and ended behind Jared, giving him a whack on his unprotected backside.
“Ow!” Jared yelled, stumbling away. He rubbed the new sore spot as Jensen grinned at him. “That’s how it’s going to be, is it?” Jensen beckoned him forward with a hand. Jared took a few more moments to let the sting fade. “I’ll be watching for that now.” He lunged at Jensen, sending him dancing away, and countered Jensen’s next few strikes. Each time Jensen spun around him, Jared tried his damnedest to follow. Their swords met again then they mutually dodged and broke apart before coming back together.
When the next blow landed, they were both breathing hard, though Jensen appeared to be doing marginally better than Jared felt, getting himself back under control with only a few short pants. The flat of the sword hit hard across Jared’s backside again and Jared nearly ate the dirt. He hissed rubbing at what he was sure was going to be a truly impressive welt.
Around him, there was a collective gasp of shock and Jared noticed for the first time that Jensen and he had drawn an audience-and a large one at that. Jared ignored them. He shook his hands out and pushed the hair out of his eyes. “Is this what I can expect from you after we are wed?” he asked and Jensen chuckled.
“If you don’t like it, stop leaving yourself so open.”
“Who said that I didn’t like it?” Jensen’s next breath was audible and Jared grinned. “Just maybe not with a wooden paddle.”
While Jensen was still processing Jared’s little confession, Jared struck out, landing a glancing blow on Jensen’s torso. “Gotcha.”
Jensen stood fully upright, feeling the spot with a hand. His eyes met Jared’s and Jared’s knees tried to buckle. There was heat and intent in Jensen’s gaze, setting Jared’s inner fantasies aflame.
Jensen moved, his sword arcing forward like a striking snake and Jared scarcely managed to block it before Jensen swung again, coming in from the right, then the left followed by a forward jab.
The end result had been a foregone conclusion but it was still a shock when the sword left Jared’s hands, flying off into the crowd again. Jared remained on his feet, but just barely. Jensen’s sword whipped around again, stopping just inches from Jared’s neck. Jared lifted his head, indicating his surrender as he panted.
Jensen’s sword clattered to the ground and his hands grabbed a hold of Jared’s face on both sides. He pulled Jared in for a kiss, proclaiming his victory. Exhausted, Jared leaned into him, steadying himself on Jensen’s arms. The kiss was wet and dominating and Jared gave himself over to it.
They broke apart, gasping for air, and Jared leaned his forehead against Jensen’s. Behind him, there was a slow clapping. Jared held his fingers up in an obscene gesture, knowing that it was Peter without even seeing him. How was that for skill?
The days passed by in a blur for Jared, though he was unsure if that was due more to the hectic bustle of the wedding plans or the general daze that Jensen’s mere presence inspired in him. Just being around Jensen made the hours seem to pass by more quickly than they should have.
In between their morning workouts (“In more ways than one!” Peter had said), and lengthy strolls, they were slowly getting to know one another but Jared still thought that a lifetime would not be enough to know Jensen.
Jensen, as it turned out, thought as much about the wedding planning as Jared did. Which was to say not at all because everything from the table settings to the flowers were being handled by Evelyn and her veritable army of helpers. The only input that Jared had given was to make sure that the flowers were white and Jensen had mentioned a liking to the pudding that the cook made, so it had been added to the menu.
The Grand Bishop was to officiate their wedding in the great hall and Jared was only required to show up and repeat what the Bishop told him to. Jared hated big productions. He was always pushed front and center and didn’t have a clue what to do half the time. Should he wave? Make a speech and if so, about what? At least this time, his appearance was to be scripted.
The court was all a buzz again, the lords and ladies zipping to and fro, making their plans and scheming to get better seats.
It really was no wonder that Jared decided to up and disappear one day. Roger had harped on him for nearly two hours afterward, but Jared still thought that it had been worth it. He had kidnapped Jensen from the day, luring him out to the stables.
It was the first time that Jared had ever been jealous of a horse for Jensen had cooed over his black steed like a proud mother, checking over every inch and petting him with gentle soothing strokes before finally allowing him to be saddled.
Jared had mounted his own horse and they’d left Starfall through a sidegate.
Jensen had been suitably amazed at the monastery and the great fountain. It was the marketplace, though, that had really caught his eye.
“How can there be so many people in one single place?” Jensen had said, more to himself than anything. “There’s…there’s a country here. Right here.”
Jared had grinned at him. “Every day.” The marketplaces of Milecki were known far and wide for a reason. Anything that one could possibly imagine could be found in the market stalls: silks from the East and ivory from the westward plains, pearls from the coastal islands and tiny, chittering creatures that one could buy for two gold pieces. As wonderous as it all was, however, Jared thought that it was the girl that had truly amazed Jensen.
She had been small, under the age of 10, certainly, and she had rushed directly up to them with no fear whatsoever to hand Jensen a white flower. “For the Royal Consort,” she had said with a smile and then dashed away back into the thick folds of the crowd.
“I…” Jensen stared down at the flower in his hand. “She gave me a flower.”
Jared nodded. “The people of Milecki have accepted you as one of their own.”
“But how…?”
“News of the upcoming wedding has been circulating the city rumor mills since the treaty was signed.” Jared shrugged. There was only so much secrecy he could keep when formal traditions dictated the involvement of multiple parties during official state affairs.
“I was truly the last person on Earth to know of my own wedding.”
Jared plucked the flower from Jensen’s hand and tucked it behind his ear for safe-keeping. “At least you found out before the ceremony. Now, that might have been a shock.”
Jensen huffed a laugh and followed Jared through the sea of humanity that was the first ward of the Milecki Markets.
The bells tolled the hour, ringing out across the city streets, and Jared smoothed his palms on his heavy robes, surreptitiously wiping the sweat from his palms. He wished that he could do the same with the rest of his body. He was nearly roasting under the acres of fabric he’d been forced into. When the bells finished, he held his arm out for the Grand Bishop to bind to Jensen’s. “Let these two souls be forever entwined in the eyes of the gods and may fortune favor their union,” the Bishop intoned, his voice booming through the great hall. His voice hadn’t changed over the past hour that Jared had been standing before him. Jared suspected that the Grand Bishop wasn’t human. Any normal person would have been hoarse by now.
Across from him, Jensen smiled reassuringly and Jared took a deep breath and smiled back. It could be worse, he supposed. Jensen was back in his heavy black armor and he had to be melting in the heat. They only had a half hour at most, even if the Grand Bishop decided to draw out the moment. Then, they would of course, be expected to attend the banquet and entertain an entire court full of would-be jesters. On the bright side, they would also be allowed to leave early. Though, now that Jared thought about it, that made him nervous as well.
The ropes tightened on his arm and the Bishop said a few more chants. “You are now forever bound, in this life and the next. May the gods smile upon you.” As Roger stepped forward, Jared slid his eyes over to Jensen, watching for his reaction for what came next.
Roger produced the blade that would cut the joined binding and end the ceremony. Traditional ceremonies usually used a small knife that the bride would then keep. It didn’t have to be small, however, nor did it have to be a knife. Jensen’s eyes widened at the sight of the sword that he had surrendered to Jared just a few short months ago.
The sword had always been as much a part of Jensen’s legend as the hand that wielded it. Such a blade, crafted of a metal harder than steel, was created only by the monks of Damascus and gifted only to the Dancers of the Winds. There, truly, was no other sword for Jensen, nor had Jared had any doubt which blade he would like to honor his wedding.
Roger drew the blade from its ornate sheath, holding it aloft for the assembled crowd to see. He touched it to the rope and the blade sliced through as cleanly as through butter. Roger resheathed the weapon and reversed it to hand it to Jared. Jared took it reverently, holding it with careful hands. He knelt and held the sword out to Jensen.
“Let this blade symbolize your union,” the Grand Bishop said. “Let its strength give you strength and long may you live.”
Jensen slowly reached out and let his fingers slide over the sword, first tracing the length of the sheathe, then swirling his fingers around the lion crest before finally grasping the hilt, lifting it from Jared’s hands. “I accept take this as my own,” he said. “I accept this offering and find it pleasing.”
Jared rose and sealed their union with a kiss.
One year later…
Jared awoke to lips kissing their way across his neck and a strong hand sliding up his thigh. His eyes snapped open in the darkness. “Jensen?”
“Mmm,” was his answer and the lips moved to his mouth so a tongue could lick inside. Jared groaned. His arms wrapped around the solid weight above him and pulled it closer to grind against the length of Jensen’s body. His hands met nothing but skin and muscle and Jared shivered. Jensen must have undressed before, standing before the bed, planning his attack as he prepared. Their mouths parted, allowing Jared a moment to breathe. He sucked at the air, feeling as if Jensen had stolen every breath in his body with a single kiss. “My king,” Jensen murmured, his mouth moving back to the sensitive areas of Jared’s neck.
With a sudden surge of strength, catching Jensen off-guard, Jared rolled them both, putting Jensen onto his back and settling between the welcoming embrace of his thighs. In the darkness, Jared could see little beyond the glitter of Jensen’s eyes when they caught the starlight filtering into the room and the vague curve of Jensen’s smile. “When did you get back?” Jared asked. Jensen had been gone for a week now, running off the bandits in the borderlands.
“Now,” Jensen replied and pulled Jared down for another kiss. He arched up into Jared’s body, rubbing himself against Jared shamelessly. Jensen, Jared had quickly found out, for all his properness and honor, was wanton when presented with need. Jared’s hips moved of their own accord, finding a quiet rhythm that momentarily pleased them both. Jensen moaned into the kiss, his hands burying in Jared’s hair to control the angle and to keep Jared in place for as long as Jensen wished.
When they parted once more, they were both out of breath. Jared studied Jensen’s shadowed face as best as he was able, looking for any sign of an injury. He saw the white flash of Jensen’s teeth and felt the rumble of Jensen’s laugh echoing through his chest. “I am fine,” Jensen assured him and tried to pull him down for another kiss.
“I wish that you would let the soldiers take care of the border disputes,” Jared said. It was a familiar argument. They’d had it a week previously and every time Jensen had left before that.
Jensen sighed. “And I will,” he promised. “When the task force is trained. I do not wish for any lives to be lost when there is a possibility that they can be saved.”
Jared gave him the point. There was no better one better suited in all of Jared’s kingdom to save lives with his skill in battle. That didn’t mean, however, that he had to like the idea of his husband deliberately placing himself in danger. It only meant that he was married to one of the Dancers of Damascus, whose sworn duty was to protect and preserve life through the application of their art, something Jensen had informed him of the first time that Jared had objected at Jensen leaving the palace. Jensen was already compromising with Jared by training the task force and Jared simply had to accept that.
“If you promise me that you are unharmed, I will welcome you back.”
A hand wrapped around Jared’s cock and Jared jerked to the side in surprise. “As long as you promise me that you are up to the task of welcoming me back properly.”
Jensen’s thumb rubbed the length of Jared and Jared groaned, dropping his head against Jensen’s shoulder. “You will be the death of me,” he muttered. He needn’t worry about Jensen’s possible death in battle-Jared would be long dead before him, having been slain in bed by Jensen’s skilled hands.
Jensen laughed quietly and eased Jared forward, pulling him along until Jared slipped inside warm, slick heat. Jared gasped. “You are…”
“Mmm. I prepared myself as I watched you earlier, thinking of this moment.” Jensen pressed his body downward, forcing Jared more fully inside of him.
Evil. Pure evil. “Why rob me of that sight?” Jared demanded. Preparing Jensen, watching the proud warrior squirm on probing fingers, was one of Jared’s greatest joys in life. Jensen loved to have things inside of him-whether it be Jared’s fingers or cock or tongue-and Jared loved to watch Jensen enjoy them.
Jensen laughed. “Because I was impatient.” He swiftly rolled them, pushing Jared onto his back and settling his weight overtop of Jared’s hips. Jared’s mouth opened and his eyes fluttered closed as the whole of him was pushed inside of Jensen. “Now be quiet and let me ride you.” He began to rock his hips, slow, maddening little circles.
Letting Jensen ride him was no hardship, but Jared knew that he had no hope of being quiet. He didn’t bother to try and hold back the little sounds that Jensen drew out of him. His hands gripped Jensen’s hips, reaffirming their perfect fit and then slid upwards, skimming over Jensen’s lean sides and muscled chest. Jensen caught them both, holding them in place over his heart with one hand.
Jensen caught his bottom lip with his teeth, worrying it like he sometimes did when he was focusing. Jared’s breath caught in his throat and he bucked upwards, causing Jensen to chuckle. “Patience,” Jensen told him, running a gentling hand over Jared’s stomach.
“Any longer and I will die of sheer need,” Jared growled.
“But what a death!” Jensen’s voice had a breathless quality that let Jared know that his torment was almost at an end as Jensen was reaching the limit of his tolerance for the slow and gentle pace. Jared eased a hand out of Jensen’s grasp and rubbed his palm over Jensen’s flexing stomach. Some days he still couldn’t believe that he was allowed to touch-that maybe it was all just a vivid dream to have this wild, wanton, god-like creature in his bed.
Jared dared to move his hand lower and Jensen gasped. “Cheater,” he whispered as Jared encased his thick cock in a firm grip.
“Exploiting a weakness,” Jared shot back and gave Jensen a solid pump that had him jerking forward with a hiss. Jensen had always said that a good warrior used anything and everything at his disposal. Fight to win.
“Fair enough,” Jensen panted. He leaned backward, bracing himself on Jared’s legs, and let his mouth drop open as a visible shiver shook him. He moaned, arching his body to bring himself down on one particular spot again and again.
Jared was fast approaching orgasm, spurred along by Jensen’s tight heat and the sight of Jensen taking as he pleased. Every muscle was tightening up in preparation. Jared fought it back, wanting to last for Jensen.
Jensen rocked forward, his mouth open, his eyes squeezed shut. His back arched and he shuddered through his orgasm, spilling into Jared’s waiting hand and onto his chest, as he clenched down on Jared’s cock. He hung there, suspended for long seconds, and scarcely even seemed to breathe. Then, with a shuddering sigh, he lowered himself back down and his eyes fluttered open. He smiled down at Jared. “Mmm.” His hand ran through the mess he had made of Jared’s chest, rubbing it onto Jared’s skin, claiming Jared as his own in a primitive, primal way. Jared closed his eyes.
“Ready?” Jensen asked him and began to move again. Jared didn’t bother to last. Within seconds, he was bucking upward and emptying himself into Jensen’s body. Jensen rocked downward, firmly seating himself, and held Jared down as he spasmed through his orgasm.
When Jared was done, Jensen gave him a few more moments and let sat up, letting Jared slide limply from his body. He moved to Jared’s left and settled down beside him.
“So,” Jared said when he finally had the breath to do so. “Welcome back.”
Jensen chuckled and gave him a lingering kiss. “Almost as if I’d never left.”
“Almost.” Jared had been by himself for a week and after finally managing to win the proud Prince Jensen, he hardly wanted to go a day without seeing Jensen’s face. “I missed you.”
“Mmm.” Jensen ran a finger over Jared’s lips and tucked his head against Jared’s shoulder. “You should rest.”
“And why is that?” Jared smoothed his hand over Jensen’s cheek, sliding backwards to cup his head.
“Because tomorrow you have to get up early and train with me,” was the sleepy reply and Jared mock scowled.
“I take it back. I didn’t miss you at all.”
Jensen gave him a consoling pat. “And if you wake earlier enough, maybe I’ll be able to show you how much I missed you, too.”
“You should have led with that.” Jensen chuckled and Jared closed his eyes. As always when he was with Jensen, the hours flew by quicker than they should have.