Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. :)
Inspired by a simple piece of fan art.
Dedicated to Meemo, who drew that picture.
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I stand outside the doorway, adjusting my tunic one last time, making sure it covered every vestige of my royal heritage. Already I can hear the raucous din of merrymaking, and the alluring sounds of a fiddle envelope me, drawing me in.
Today, I am alone. Alanna had mysteriously disappeared after dinner, and Gary is on boarder patrol. Raoul was nowhere to be found. I had promised myself after the last time that I would never come here alone again. But the temptation was irresistible.
Simply irresistible.
Smiling slightly, I step over the threshold of the Dancing Dove.
The air is thick with smoke and the pungent smell of alcohol. I am greeted with cries of delight, and a yell of 'Why, if it ain't young Johnny!' as I settle in my favourite chair. Looking around, I see the thieves dividing their night's haul, and chesty women battling eyelashes and seducing the men. A few couples whirled around the dance area to the tune of the fiddle.
The warmth of the fireplace tantalizes my skin, and I feel like I am home. Sometimes – hell, many times, I wonder whether this was the place I was meant to be, not –
"My Prince, can I get you a drink?" A deep voice rumbles close to my ear, sending waves of exultation down my spine. It was a voice I knew well, the very reason that lures me here time after time. No other man besides the King of Thieves would know to call me by my status.
I know he is watching me – I can feel his eyes on my back, scrutinizing me intently. Carefully, I avoid his gaze. My voice is measured as I reply. "I would love some Rondre la Louvre, if you have it."
"Of course. I preserve a bottle special for you. Guarded with my life."
His voice drops a few notches, and I can sense the hint of seductively grating my nerves. Not too much, but enough. Enough for me to suppress a shiver.
Behind me, I can feel him straighten as he prepares to walk away. His fingers brush against my shoulder, trailing across my exposed neck – daring me to follow.
I resist the temptation. It had become a game. In those odd moments when no one was looking, he would entice me with slight touches; teasing me until I thought I would go crazy. Always, I had won out, the sensibility of my friends keeping me on firm ground.
I knew it was wrongful – sinful, almost. I could not give up my status for lust, my reputation for pure desire. It would be worth everything I have, to give in to temptation.
So I remain sitting, tense, watching the tall figure stride away from me. His white, cotton shirt attracts my eyes like a magnet. I couldn't look away, even if I wanted to… At the doorway, he turns, and our gazes interlock. Hazel eyes against sapphire.
Mithros curse whoever fashioned this gorgeous creation. He was too good with this game – too damn good. His eyes – they were by far the main feature on his face. It was a huge mistake, looking into those eyes.
There, I meet my downfall.
To hell with all wisdom and common sense, I stand. I had lost the game. As soon as I stepped into the Dove, I had lost. It was as if I had stepped into the Dragon's lair. He was the dragon, and he could tease me, have me – anything. He grins broadly, flashing pearly white teeth, and vanishes upstairs. For my Rondre la Louvre.
I follow.
----
He was inches away, holding out a glass of deep, red liquid, its very colour making me light-headed with desire.
Slowly, I reach for the glass. Our hands meet, followed quickly by our lips. My eyes are closed, but I can feel my skin tingling where we touched, can feel my passion reflect in his eyes.
He pulls away leisurely, swollen lips curving in a smile. I can hear his breath, loud and gasping, mingling with my own.
"I win."
I take a sip of the Rondre la Louvre, feeling its heat course through my body.
"Cheat. What you do to me should be made illegal," I whisper hoarsely, lowering my lips to his once more.
A/N: Hmm… my first slash ficlet. Lolz. Comments/reviews?