![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
gigitrek.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
rareslashThe Fates tell Crio that Everealm is still in danger, at an inopportune moment. No RPF.
Sir Ansgar was drunk.
Not in a sloppy way like the village inebriates lolling against the castle walls. Still, as SSiSir AnAnsgar sat alone and relatively upright at a table in a quiet corner of the
Summary: The Fates tell Crio that Everealm is still in danger, at an inopportune time. No RPF.
Sir Ansgar was drunk.
Not in a sloppy way, like the village inebriates lolling against the castle walls. Still, as Sir Ansgar sat relatively upright at a table in a quiet corner of the courtyard, there was enough brightness to his eyes and enough of a slur in his words for Crio to know the tankard in his hand was not his first. Or likely his tenth, knowing how the man could hold his liquor.
“What are you doing?” Crio asked, although the answer was plain.
“Celebrating the defeat of Verlox, of course.” That was not it. There had been a great celebration after the battle, with feasting and laughter and dancing well into the night. But today had been different. Today, Lina the One True Hero and the other Paladins had left Everealm, returning to their own homes in their own world. And nobody had been closer to the Paladins than Ansgar.
“It's all right to be sad,” Crio said. They all were, a little. Naturally, the Paladins could not stay. They had their own lives to live, and in any case, the prophecy had not foretold it. But there had still been a tear in Crio's eye as he waved good-bye.
“I'm not sad.” Ansgar looked at him, deliberately holding Crio's gaze while he took a long drink from the tankard. When Ansgar lowered the mug and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, Crio's stomach twisted.
They weren't lovers. They weren't even friends, although they had become closer to it since their experiences on the run with the Paladins. But they had shared one another's beds (and chairs, and sofas, and walls) intermittently for years, an unspoken arrangement that would last, Crio supposed, until one of them got a better offer.
“Want to fuck?” Ansgar asked. Crio let out a laugh. He had no regrets about their situation. It brought him a great deal of joy, but even now, after all this time, Ansgar's directness on the subject could make Crio blush. “What's that expression about?” Ansgar raised an eyebrow.
“That's not very romantic.”
“Romance? Is that what you want?” Proving just how much he'd had to drink, Ansgar took Crio's hand and, in a tone full of drama, delcared, “Oh Crio, light of my life, would you do me the highest honour of a quick fu--”
“I'm terribly sorry to interrupt.”
Stifling a sigh, turned around and faced the Queen as she stood behind him, the shadow of a royal smirk on her lips. Crio inclined his head and hoped his face wasn't flaming as brightly as it felt. “Your Majesty.”
“Your Majesty.” Ansgar was blushing as well, a layer of deep crimson across his cheeks.
“I've decided to postpone this evening's meeting about the castle repairs until tomorrow morning. I think we could all do with a bit of rest.” She blinked. “Or something.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The Queen knew about their relationship-that-wasn't. Nothing passed beneath her gaze. It didn't bother Crio, particularly, as long as it remained unspoken, but Ansgar valued his privacy to an almost obsessive degree.
“Good evening, then.”
“Good evening, Your Majesty.” Crio bowed, and the Queen turned away. To her credit, she was nearly out of earshot before she laughed. Nearly.
“Well.” Crio sighed. There was nothing more to say, really. Ansgar looked so completely humiliated, Crio's heart went out to him. “Come on, then.” He smiled. Ansgar didn't return it, but he followed across the courtyard and up the narrow steps to Crio's crowded little chamber.
Crio was many things, but he was not stupid. He knew that anyone who cared to speculate about the details of what he and Ansgar got up to would have very clear ideas of who played which role. Those ideas would be wrong. He was an aggressor in life and on the battlefield, but here, in the bedroom, Ansgar preferred to allow Crio the lead, the more dominant position. It was at that point, as Ansgar gripped the carved headboard of Crio's bed and Crio thrust inside him, that Crio felt a familiar fluttering sensation that had nothing to do with the act at hand. His eyes flew open. Sure enough, Ansgar and the bedroom were gone, replaced by the three impassive-looking Fates staring down at him from their positions in their Hall.
Crio's erection thankfully flagged at once, but that did very little to preserve his dignity. He held his hands over his groin. The Fates didn't seem to care. They gazed impassively, speaking in their usual way, each one taking up as another finished and not bothering with an apology or even a greeting.
“Everealm is not safe.”
“Danger still lurks.”
“The prophecy is not complete.”
Crio blinked. “That's impossible.” Lina was the One True Hero. She had used the Sunspear to defeat Verlox, as the prophecy had foretold, and peace reigned over Everealm, the way it had before.
“Verlox is not the only enemy who seeks to do harm.”
“There is one stronger yet, and more clever.”
“A snake in the grass.”
“A rat in your midst.”
“The Vizier?” Crio asked. The man was currently rotting in the dungeon, but he'd proven he had wiles. Who knew what he might be getting up to?
The Fates looked blank. “It is unclear.”
“But the danger is imminent.”
“You must seek out another, a stronger hero to defeat this cunning adversary.”
Crio's spirits fell. The Fates remained expressionless as, without further information or advice, they whisked him home again.
Ansgar was still there, sitting naked on the bed. Normally, that sight would have stirred Crio's heart and body, but at the moment, all he felt was ill.
“The bloody Fates again?” Ansgar asked. Crio nodded. “You should tell them to fuck off one of these times.”
“They are the Fates.”
“You still deserve a little respect.”
Ansgar had been like that lately, almost complimentary. It was a change, but then, Crio had changed as well. If the experience with the Paladins had softened Ansgar, made him more human, then it had toughened Crio. It had made him the sort of person who could go on the run, the type who could fight for his home. Ansgar had appreciated his contribution. After the victory celebration, when the Queen had retired for the evening and the Paladins were slowly making their way towards their rooms, Ansgar had pushed Crio into a dark corner. He'd kissed him hard, his hands gripping Crio's shoulders and his tongue leaving Crio breathless. When he pulled away, Ansgar looked at him for a long moment. As he opened his mouth to speak, someone called, “Sir Ansgar?” from the courtyard, and he left without a word. That was for the best, Crio thought. He wasn't sure he was ready to hear what Ansgar had been about to say.
Now, Ansgar sighed and moved up the bed, leaving Crio room to sit down. “What did they want, then?”
“Everealm is still in danger.”
“What?”
“The Prophecy is not yet complete.”
“The Vizier? I knew the Queen should have let me run him through...”
“They couldn't say.”
Ansgar frowned. “We must tell her immediately.” He reached down and picked up the pile of clothes on the floor, passing Crio his shirt. By the time Crio had put it on, Angar was already fully dressed and pulling on his boots. “Don't worry,” he said, as Crio stood up. His hand landed on Crio's shoulder. “We've done it before. We can do it again.”
“Of course.” Crio couldn't let despair overcome him; he had to remain positive. “You're right.”
“Naturally I'm right. I'm Sir Angar the Fierce, don't forget.” Ansgar smiled, still a rare occurrence. Crio knew him better than that. He could see the uncertainty in Ansgar's eyes. Impulsively, Crio leaned forward and planted a kiss on Ansgar's cheek. Ansgar caught his hand and, to Crio's surprise, returned the kiss on the back of it. It was a small gesture, but it was enough. It spurred him on and, with Ansgar right behind him, Crio went to share the Fates' message with the Queen.
Sir Ansgar was drunk.
Not in a sloppy way like the village inebriates lolling against the castle walls. Still, as SSiSir AnAnsgar sat alone and relatively upright at a table in a quiet corner of the
Summary: The Fates tell Crio that Everealm is still in danger, at an inopportune time. No RPF.
Sir Ansgar was drunk.
Not in a sloppy way, like the village inebriates lolling against the castle walls. Still, as Sir Ansgar sat relatively upright at a table in a quiet corner of the courtyard, there was enough brightness to his eyes and enough of a slur in his words for Crio to know the tankard in his hand was not his first. Or likely his tenth, knowing how the man could hold his liquor.
“What are you doing?” Crio asked, although the answer was plain.
“Celebrating the defeat of Verlox, of course.” That was not it. There had been a great celebration after the battle, with feasting and laughter and dancing well into the night. But today had been different. Today, Lina the One True Hero and the other Paladins had left Everealm, returning to their own homes in their own world. And nobody had been closer to the Paladins than Ansgar.
“It's all right to be sad,” Crio said. They all were, a little. Naturally, the Paladins could not stay. They had their own lives to live, and in any case, the prophecy had not foretold it. But there had still been a tear in Crio's eye as he waved good-bye.
“I'm not sad.” Ansgar looked at him, deliberately holding Crio's gaze while he took a long drink from the tankard. When Ansgar lowered the mug and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, Crio's stomach twisted.
They weren't lovers. They weren't even friends, although they had become closer to it since their experiences on the run with the Paladins. But they had shared one another's beds (and chairs, and sofas, and walls) intermittently for years, an unspoken arrangement that would last, Crio supposed, until one of them got a better offer.
“Want to fuck?” Ansgar asked. Crio let out a laugh. He had no regrets about their situation. It brought him a great deal of joy, but even now, after all this time, Ansgar's directness on the subject could make Crio blush. “What's that expression about?” Ansgar raised an eyebrow.
“That's not very romantic.”
“Romance? Is that what you want?” Proving just how much he'd had to drink, Ansgar took Crio's hand and, in a tone full of drama, delcared, “Oh Crio, light of my life, would you do me the highest honour of a quick fu--”
“I'm terribly sorry to interrupt.”
Stifling a sigh, turned around and faced the Queen as she stood behind him, the shadow of a royal smirk on her lips. Crio inclined his head and hoped his face wasn't flaming as brightly as it felt. “Your Majesty.”
“Your Majesty.” Ansgar was blushing as well, a layer of deep crimson across his cheeks.
“I've decided to postpone this evening's meeting about the castle repairs until tomorrow morning. I think we could all do with a bit of rest.” She blinked. “Or something.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The Queen knew about their relationship-that-wasn't. Nothing passed beneath her gaze. It didn't bother Crio, particularly, as long as it remained unspoken, but Ansgar valued his privacy to an almost obsessive degree.
“Good evening, then.”
“Good evening, Your Majesty.” Crio bowed, and the Queen turned away. To her credit, she was nearly out of earshot before she laughed. Nearly.
“Well.” Crio sighed. There was nothing more to say, really. Ansgar looked so completely humiliated, Crio's heart went out to him. “Come on, then.” He smiled. Ansgar didn't return it, but he followed across the courtyard and up the narrow steps to Crio's crowded little chamber.
Crio was many things, but he was not stupid. He knew that anyone who cared to speculate about the details of what he and Ansgar got up to would have very clear ideas of who played which role. Those ideas would be wrong. He was an aggressor in life and on the battlefield, but here, in the bedroom, Ansgar preferred to allow Crio the lead, the more dominant position. It was at that point, as Ansgar gripped the carved headboard of Crio's bed and Crio thrust inside him, that Crio felt a familiar fluttering sensation that had nothing to do with the act at hand. His eyes flew open. Sure enough, Ansgar and the bedroom were gone, replaced by the three impassive-looking Fates staring down at him from their positions in their Hall.
Crio's erection thankfully flagged at once, but that did very little to preserve his dignity. He held his hands over his groin. The Fates didn't seem to care. They gazed impassively, speaking in their usual way, each one taking up as another finished and not bothering with an apology or even a greeting.
“Everealm is not safe.”
“Danger still lurks.”
“The prophecy is not complete.”
Crio blinked. “That's impossible.” Lina was the One True Hero. She had used the Sunspear to defeat Verlox, as the prophecy had foretold, and peace reigned over Everealm, the way it had before.
“Verlox is not the only enemy who seeks to do harm.”
“There is one stronger yet, and more clever.”
“A snake in the grass.”
“A rat in your midst.”
“The Vizier?” Crio asked. The man was currently rotting in the dungeon, but he'd proven he had wiles. Who knew what he might be getting up to?
The Fates looked blank. “It is unclear.”
“But the danger is imminent.”
“You must seek out another, a stronger hero to defeat this cunning adversary.”
Crio's spirits fell. The Fates remained expressionless as, without further information or advice, they whisked him home again.
Ansgar was still there, sitting naked on the bed. Normally, that sight would have stirred Crio's heart and body, but at the moment, all he felt was ill.
“The bloody Fates again?” Ansgar asked. Crio nodded. “You should tell them to fuck off one of these times.”
“They are the Fates.”
“You still deserve a little respect.”
Ansgar had been like that lately, almost complimentary. It was a change, but then, Crio had changed as well. If the experience with the Paladins had softened Ansgar, made him more human, then it had toughened Crio. It had made him the sort of person who could go on the run, the type who could fight for his home. Ansgar had appreciated his contribution. After the victory celebration, when the Queen had retired for the evening and the Paladins were slowly making their way towards their rooms, Ansgar had pushed Crio into a dark corner. He'd kissed him hard, his hands gripping Crio's shoulders and his tongue leaving Crio breathless. When he pulled away, Ansgar looked at him for a long moment. As he opened his mouth to speak, someone called, “Sir Ansgar?” from the courtyard, and he left without a word. That was for the best, Crio thought. He wasn't sure he was ready to hear what Ansgar had been about to say.
Now, Ansgar sighed and moved up the bed, leaving Crio room to sit down. “What did they want, then?”
“Everealm is still in danger.”
“What?”
“The Prophecy is not yet complete.”
“The Vizier? I knew the Queen should have let me run him through...”
“They couldn't say.”
Ansgar frowned. “We must tell her immediately.” He reached down and picked up the pile of clothes on the floor, passing Crio his shirt. By the time Crio had put it on, Angar was already fully dressed and pulling on his boots. “Don't worry,” he said, as Crio stood up. His hand landed on Crio's shoulder. “We've done it before. We can do it again.”
“Of course.” Crio couldn't let despair overcome him; he had to remain positive. “You're right.”
“Naturally I'm right. I'm Sir Angar the Fierce, don't forget.” Ansgar smiled, still a rare occurrence. Crio knew him better than that. He could see the uncertainty in Ansgar's eyes. Impulsively, Crio leaned forward and planted a kiss on Ansgar's cheek. Ansgar caught his hand and, to Crio's surprise, returned the kiss on the back of it. It was a small gesture, but it was enough. It spurred him on and, with Ansgar right behind him, Crio went to share the Fates' message with the Queen.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}