Life following his sister's kidnapping had been a strange mix of despair, rage, unease, and, on rare occasions, even a fleeting flicker of joy as well. The world was on the verge of total warfare, with rogue nobles stirring up pockets of rebellion and gathering armies to march upon him. They demanded he abdicated the throne for his crimes against Meridian itself. Which was obviously never going to happen. It was a free for all out in the streets, with Lord and Ladies hoping to gain the throne after they disposed of the last of the Escanor line. There were battles to coordinate, regions to re-secure, supply lines to connect, near-endless magic to bask in, and an anxious paramour to soothe. And the complicated matter of attempting to uproot the conspiracy at the heart of the matter regarding who was directly involved in betraying him, and stealing his sister away. The thought of traitors prowling in the shadows, watching his every move fueled his already immeasurable sense of paranoia. Every soldier who'd been meant to be guarding his sister that night he'd personally disposed of, but even that hadn't cooled his temper on the matter. It seemed nothing would. Not until he identified everyone associated with the scheme and punished them. He saw spies and deceivers almost everywhere he looked, from guards to servants and everyone in between, and he'd further restricted his already limited interactions with the world, conversing only with Cedric or on very rare occasions Raythor and banning all others from all of the spaces he frequented and not just his chambers. The Whisperers and his own magic picked up the slack, guarding halls or banishing away any dust or dirt that settled in the maid's absence.
At times he was so preoccupied he could almost forget his ultimate desire, his birthright, had been stolen away to another world, far beyond his reach. And yet, even amidst the chaos, the loss of the Heart weighed heavy on him. Flickers of white light were forever lurking in the back of his consciousness. He couldn't escape them even in his rare moments of peace. Every visit to the spring, even as it rejuvenated his fearsome magic, reminded him of the sheer power that had slipped through his fingers. Even the lifeforce of the entire world was paltry in comparison to the enormity of the power of the Heart. And it was gone. He forced himself, over and over, to remember that even if the Heart were still safe in his castle, it would still be the same amount of years before he could claim it as his own. All that had happened was adding a few steps to the process. But that never did anything to calm his obsessive thoughts. The only solace he found in the matter was that he wouldn't have to put up with his damned sister as she grew up but could instead snatch her precisely as her powers peaked. Which would be an undertaking in and of itself...
Thankfully, however, he had plenty to distract himself within the meantime.
The situation had not gotten entirely out of hand as he first feared it would, mainly due to Cedric's timely return. The fates had granted him a bit of luck for a change. The shifter had quickly busied himself that very night once Phobos was safely in his chambers with the business of returning an order to the castle and fortifying its defenses. It was a violent but effective process, as was almost everything the shifter did. Soldiers and the other underlings who remained in his service fell in line under the shifter's ever-watchful eyes. Cedric was the sole higher power left in the castle, save for Phobos, which expedited the process further. They could implement decisions much more effectively and quickly without running every little thing by the Council every week, not to mention he was no longer beholden to their hypocritical moral whims. When he wished something to happen, it did, or the consequences were..unpleasant.
In that regard, things were operating even better than before.
But they could not just brute force the trust they had lost in each other. The sheer joy Phobos experienced at Cedric's return had almost immediately been dampened. The Prince was not quite so arrogant as to say he blamed the disaster that had unfolded entirely on Cedric, but they were both acutely aware that it wouldn't have happened at all if Cedric had been there to stop it. However, Phobos possessed just enough self-awareness to know Cedric would have been there if not for his petulance and that he'd been very thoroughly warned what the consequences of his actions would be by the shifter and chose to proceed anyway. Unfortunately, one fact did not outweigh the other regarding the loss of something so precious as the Heart. Thus, they were both simply unsure of how to move past what they had said and done to each other. The two had gone from never having an actual fight during their rather complex relationship to nearly attacking each other during their fit of rage, a real-albeit brief-split, and almost bringing their new empire down on their heads due to the stubborn pride they both shared. It had shaken them greatly at how quickly they had practically fallen apart. Phobos, in particular, who always thought he'd have to beat Cedric off with a stick if he ever wanted to rid himself of him.
The first few days after his return were especially prickly.
Cedric would flit out of a room when he saw Phobos coming and tense his shoulders up and huddle in on himself when on the rare occasion Phobos did manage to pin him down, trying to appear smaller than he was. Every mere suggestion the Prince put forth, Cedric hastily and thoughtlessly agreed with, desperately trying to avoid stepping on his toes again. It was...painfully awkward, to say the least. And it was quickly becoming something of a strategic hazard. With rebellion on their doorstep, Phobos did not need Cedric so quick to concede to his every whim rather than thinking for himself. While Phobos was more than capable of making his high arching plans and schemes, strategy and battle tactics and little details were not his forte. The last thing they needed was to stumble into an ambush because Cedric was afraid to speak his mind. Not to mention Cedric's over-obedient and cautious behavior had eventually started to make him wildly uncomfortable. At first, the vain Prince had appreciated the new abject submission and repentance from his favorite subject. He was more than pleased that Cedric had indeed seemed to learn his place after the incident, and it relieved any of his worries about potentially repeating the problem. And to say nothing of how incredibly gratifying it was to have such a powerful creature as Cedric acting so meekly in his presence. It fed his already inflated ego nearly as much as sitting on his throne high above all his other servants.
But when the downcast eyes and hunched shoulders started to venture into their fifth consecutive week, and the realization dawned that they hadn't held a single proper conversation since the shifter's first night back, the show quickly started to lose its amusement. Then it started to frighten him.
Cedric's immense and unshakable loyalty was born out of love. It put a sour taste in his mouth to acknowledge it, but it was the truth all the same. He did not trust those who followed him out of only fear or ambition. He trusted Cedric because the shifter was hopelessly infatuated with him, and there were years of mutual affection and respect between them, even if he did not like to admit it. If that was gone, and Cedric had only come back because he thought he had nowhere else to go or was truly afraid of him, then he could not trust Cedric. And if he could not trust Cedric...who could he trust?
The Prince had assumed Cedric's new demeanor would start to fade away on its own as the shifter slowly began to realize Phobos had no plans to punish him for his transgressions, but it wasn't. It painfully reminded him of when Cedric acted like that as a mistreated child. Careful and submissive to a fault in the hopes of avoiding the next whipping, and Phobos couldn't stop the slight prickle of guilt that bit at him when he finally made the connection. Perhaps the lesson had been taken a little too much to heart. And with every new avoided glance and deferred offer of company, Phobos started to comprehend that he was the one responsible for changing the tone of their relationship back to their casual rapport. He'd told Cedric to leave in the first place. He'd told him to hold his tongue in his presence. He was the Prince, and Cedric was only, for once, treating him according to his rank over him rather than their previous closeness and it seemed unlikely to stop unless Cedric was sufficiently reassured he was not just a mere servant to him. That seemed slightly unfair to him. He hadn't meant to drive the shifter off or allow his mouth to run as wild as it had, and all he wanted now was to forget the matter had ever happened. But he hadn't meant to burn him either, and that little accident had sparked this catastrophic situation. And so, he knew he must at least try to win him back, if only for his own sake. Such was the burden of royalty, he supposed.
The matter had seemed simple enough in his head. He was certain Cedric's fears would quickly be dispelled with his charm. Unfortunately, nothing ever seemed to come easy for him. Phobos had promptly blown through the few appeasement tactics he knew. Pretending nothing had happened between them didn't seem to help the situation, for every time he attempted to engage Cedric in even a forcefully jovial conversation, the shifter was still overly formal and polite to him and was quick to excuse himself back to his duties. It felt a bit like trying to befriending the wary shapeshifter all over again, but with far less success. He then turned to raiding his family's treasury for items that might pique the shifter's interest. There were more than a few items that the Escanor's had appropriated and stolen through the centuries that he thought would be appropriate. But even the most lavish and meaningful of gifts had only been met with dignified, excessive thanks and anxious, darting eyes followed by a swift retreat back into his chambers, leaving a floundering Phobos on the other side of his quickly closed door. During the last six months, when the shifter had been pretending to be nothing more than a mild-mannered noble, Phobos had forgotten how animalistic Cedric could be when threatened. He'd been quickly reminded during their fight, however, and again now, when their every interaction felt very much like he was trying to pull a frightened pit viper from its nest. And he was starting to become concerned that the attempts to escape were going to morph into attempts to bite if he kept pushing. Though, at this point, Phobos thought that might be preferable to this ridiculous act. The easy conversations he'd longed for while Cedric was gone seemed more unlikely to happen now than they had when he was actually missing. He dejectedly began to resign himself to the idea that maybe they would never truly trust one another again, that he'd struck him too hard, and that this would have to be their new normal.
But, luckily for him, circumstance intervened. Once the castle was mostly under heel again, their attention turned to the traitor nobles and their growing threat and how to convince those who'd left out simply out of fear to return to the fold. It gave them the opportunity to speak in a controlled environment. They had to meet to discuss strategy after all, and this time, with the Council dissolved, it was just the two of them in the room. And unlike the tedious work of pulling the castle back together, this was hunting, and Cedric loved hunting. When Cedric's mind was in overdrive with plotting and planning, he was not as careful with his words and not so guarded. Excitement dripped from his words when he spoke of tearing apart castles and outmaneuvering the other nobles with schemes and tricks. Phobos was quick to notice this and exploit any weakness he showed him, always picking up any of Cedric's trailed bits of thought and never letting even the briefest hint of a conversation he offered him lull into an awkward silence. It was, quite frankly, exhausting, and the role Cedric usually played between them, but Phobos refused to allow their relations to sour any further because of what he'd done. This was his only opportunity to win back even the tiniest sliver of affection from his only companion, and he would not squander it no matter how much it drained him. Thankfully, his work was quickly rewarded. Every time they met, Cedric's shoulders were more relaxed, his tongue flickered out less from stress, he stood up taller, and the Prince had even caught a glimpse of a smile once. Phobos felt things were finally going to smooth over.
Then, as he tended to do, Phobos got a little too bold.
It was the last meeting before Cedric was set to head out and lead an assault on a town that a wayward noble had taken over. Phobos became over emboldened after finally seeing one of Cedric's smirks and then even the hint of a laugh at one of his snide remarks. Almost instantly, his blood started to pool in the wrong end of his body. He was never so influenced by his libido but, the last time they had done anything had been the twisted apology he'd attempted after he'd burned him, and that seemed like ages ago now, after everything that had happened. And he justified his desire as the full-scale reconciliation of their relationship, a sign that they'd won each other's trust back. Cedric enjoyed nothing more than physical and affectionate gestures, and the easily overwhelmed Prince was typically sparse with those gifts. Phobos almost always left such things to Cedric to initiate and quite often rebuffed them in turn, so certainly, his effort would be appreciated.
He'd waited till Cedric had bent over the table to reach for a quill and then dared to place himself behind the shifter's body and just lightly grasp his hips. The shifter froze as soon as he touched him. His muscles shivered and started to rearrange themselves under Phobos' fingers. He felt the abrupt flicker of mystic energy roil under his skin akin to a flash of lighting-like Cedric had just held back a reflexive transformation. That alone made the hair on Phobos' arms stand up in alarm. Then adding to his unease, instead of showing any of his customary playful eagerness, the shifter silently laid his upper body on the table before him in an unusual show of indifference. Sex was never a chore or duty to Cedric, as it sometimes was for the easily touched-out Prince. Even the most standoffish of his rare advances were always met with passionate kisses that Phobos had to fight off and salacious smirks, and the shapeshifter pressing every inch of his body that he possibly could against him. But this time, Cedric did not even turn back and meet his gaze. It felt like the natural conclusion of Cedric's over-placation, but not permission. Phobos realized he was toeing a line he hadn't known existed until that moment. Cedric didn't want him inside him or to be inside him; he didn't even want to be touched by him.
He'd miscalculated.
The Prince immediately let Cedric go and hurriedly placed himself at the other end of the table. The shifter's serpentine eyes tracked his movements eerily, but otherwise, Cedric remained unmoving. Phobos' cheeks began to redden, and his jaw grit tightly. He'd just made a fool of himself. His pride burned hot in his stomach, and the embarrassment quickly turned to annoyance. Everything with Cedric lately felt impossible to navigate. He didn't know the moves to this dance. When to take the lead or when to let Cedric do so. He'd done all the work of repairing what he'd broken, but apparently, that particular crack was not his to fix. And how was he even supposed to know that?! He would have never made such an advance if he'd known. It took a great deal of self-control to avoid lashing out at Cedric for the unintended humiliation. But to do so would ruin all the effort he'd already exerted and maybe even risk another fight over such a sensitive subject, and so, he just barely managed to hold his tongue. The two stared at each other restlessly for a moment. Phobos was fighting back his pride's desire to snap at the shifter, and Cedric… well, Phobos couldn't even tell what he was thinking anymore. And that troubled him further still. He would not be so bold as to claim Cedric had ever been easy to read-he wasn't-but Phobos prided himself as being the only person who could accurately do so...and now that was gone as well. He'd thought Cedric would be thrilled to lay with him again, not just lay there and act as if he were making him…The thought alone was poisonously bitter in his head. He would have rather just Cedric rejected him outright than act in such a way.
Then Cedric stood up, regarded him for a moment, pupils still narrowed, bowed, and left without a word. The Prince managed to hold his temper till that moment, but the second the door had shut behind the shifter, Phobos let loose a fury of sparks from his hand and set fire to all the plans and maps resting on the table. But the act only infuriated him more because he was unused to being so susceptible to his emotions. When he quarreled with his mother or others in the past, he would simply sulk in his chambers, but whenever Cedric vexed him, he felt like tearing his skin off. Perhaps it was contagious. The shifter just irked in ways that he didn't even know were even possible until they'd entered this ugly stage. He was tired of his stomach being in knots, wanting Cedric, wanting, against all of his nature, to be close to him again but feeling like he was stepping on eggshells every step of the way. He was tired of trying and trying and getting nowhere, or worse, still taking two steps back as he'd just done. He was done. He would not play any more games with the shifter, no matter what he'd done to him. He was the Prince of Meridian, and he didn't deserve all this aggravation and foolish nonsense over such petty missteps. Cedric could go off and rot in that town he was invading for all he cared.
The following day he'd gone to see the soldiers off, in a strictly supervisional sense, of course. It was his right and duty to do so, as the Prince, after all. But one moment, he'd been standing out in the courtyard, lips curled up hatefully, as his eyes scanned for his former lover to purposefully avoid him, and the next, Cedric appeared out of nowhere and pulled him aside into a secluded corner before he could even protest. The shifter gazed down at him with those horribly soft eyes of his, and Phobos felt all his resolve and disdain from the day before melt away almost instantly. He could barely remember the last time Cedric had looked upon him so adoringly. The old paladins who'd hunted them claimed that serpentine shifters possessed the ability to hypnotize humans with nothing but a glance. Phobos had always found that an absurd notion as a naive child, till he'd first stared into those unnatural violet eyes and suddenly felt the old myths might contain a pearl of truth.
The shifter placed a light kiss on his cheek, lips colder than ever because of the dwindled light of the conquered sun and assured him gently,
"I will return, my Prince."
Though maybe those virtuous knights hadn't been above the occasional dalliance with their charming quarry either and just needed an excuse for their deviance. Humans could be a hypocritical bunch, after all.
And apparently, so could shifters.
He was so taken aback by the abrupt shift in behavior that he didn't even bid Cedric farewell before he'd flitted off to the front of the squadron. The Prince was left standing alone, dazed and confused. That the experience the day before had been some manner of test he was suddenly now sure of. He supposed he must have passed, judging from Cedric's sudden and renewed affection. Perhaps he only wanted to gently push him to see if he would snap at him again when denied something, without having the nerve to actually say no to him. Or maybe he simply wasn't ready. Phobos didn't know or honestly care anymore. He could still feel the chill on his cheek, and that was more than enough for him. It was about time too, Phobos didn't think he had any pleasantries or charm left in his entire body. He'd not known real courting was such an exhaustive process. No wonder nobles preferred arranged marriages. And they didn't even have the problems of courting such a flighty and unpredictable creature.
The next few months passed as a comfortable rhythm established itself. Since most of the splinter groups of rebels were formed by, and led by, members of his former council, the shifter had been more than eager to deal with them. Cedric had been adept enough at playing the noble, upstanding Lord, but there was nothing he was better at than being a warrior and deceiver. What he could not take on in open battle with claws and fangs he would uproot with treachery and schemes. Once he was allowed to be as cunning and wicked as he pleased, the Lord made the former council members' previous machinations against him look like child's play. It was not the petty insults and backstabbing they were used to, but systematic destruction, for Cedric was not after their titles or lands or prizes, only their complete annihilation. Occasionally, there were losses and complications, but nothing Cedric could not easily regroup from and overcome without his interference.
A few of the aristocracy were lucky enough to die during their battles. However, the unlucky ones Cedric snatched up to be brought back for interrogation and then to show off for his Prince. Phobos had developed a particular appreciation for watching Cedric's hunts while they'd lived in the wilds; from Hermaneutibeasts to Larveks, there was nothing the shifter could not bring down with enough effort. And the Prince found the more extreme and entertaining version of that sport while sitting on his throne watching Cedric's massive form coil around and wring the life from some traitorous fool he'd dragged out from his stronghold as the victim begged the smirking Prince with his last breath for a bit of mercy that was never coming.
Whether distrust still lurked under the surface, Phobos could not say. Cedric was too busy happily chasing 'mice' and bringing them back to play to trouble himself with his usually complicated emotions. And Phobos, who never really dealt with his emotions anyway, was busy enjoying the show. Every victory seemed to boost Cedric's renewed confidence in both himself and Phobos. When Cedric was back at the castle, he and Phobos could finally hold perfectly normal conversations, dine together, sit in the garden and library and mindlessly chat, or simply stroll the halls in each other's company. They had regained a purpose and were eager to fulfill it. The difficulties they had experienced even before the fight, unsure of which direction to go next, were gone. There was only one goal now, to take back control by any means necessary, and they faced no disagreements on how to proceed in that regard. However...there was still one sticking point. The shifter still had not ventured up to his chambers nor given him any other of his usual mating signals or playful advances. Phobos just did not understand what could possibly be going on in Cedric's head to cause such hesitation. Typically the shapeshifter barely lasted a week before he came sniffing around for attention. What was he still doing wrong? All their other interactions were once again enjoyable and relaxed and delightful, so why didn't he want him? It irritated Phobos beyond reason both because it was wildly out of character it was for his shifter and the role reversal of spurned affections. He was certain he was going to slip and say something unpleasant soon if he had to continue on this way. It seemed the universe was set on denying him everything he viewed as his.
Phobos hoped, with any luck, Cedric's war games would solve that problem for him as well. From time to time, when Cedric's blood ran hot enough, his blood lust would morph into actual lust. One of his more...enjoyable memories had occurred during the civil war to first take the throne. It was after the first battle Cedric had ever won, the first time he'd ever been genuinely sure of himself after years of being mistreated and tread upon in the castle. While Phobos had been waiting impatiently back at camp, the shifter had torn through half a battalion on his own. He'd come back before the rest of the soldiers, the adrenaline in his system so overpowering that he'd picked the somewhat indignant Phobos up without so much as a greeting or status report and fucked him out in the middle of the camp. He vividly remembered the enemy soldier's blood wasn't even thoroughly dried on Cedric's hands when he'd entangled his fingers in his hair.
Phobos would never tell him so, but he never enjoyed their liaisons more than when Cedric was wild and uncontrollable like that. For all his fiery temperament, Cedric was prone to being overly affectionate and soft during the act, which was all well and good, he supposed, and taking Cedric was its own brand of fun as well-particularly when Phobos just wanted the act over without being smothered half to death with tenderness. But sometimes, on rare occasions, Phobos wanted to remember that Cedric was very much not a human and was quite capable of rendering him limb from limb if he wanted to, and only chose not to do so because of his hold over the shifter. While not actually being in danger of that happening. Which, upon further reflection, he'd realized had come dangerously close to happening during their argument. Playing with fire was one thing; getting burned was another.
Unfortunately, the fun of rounding up treasonous nobles and their armies came with a cost, as everything did. Cedric was often away from him, as he was once again laying siege to one of the largest and last of the rebel strongholds in the eastern part of the country. This particular assault had already lasted for well over two months, and Phobos was starting to grow restless without his shifter. There were only so many clerical duties he could attend to in Cedric's stead before his mind began to melt into mush, and that boredom was nothing in comparison to his other ever-growing needs.
On roughly the sixty-fourth day of the campaign (he wasn't counting), Phobos had spent the morning combing through letter after letter of complaints and demands the non-human nobility expected Cedric to bring to fruition before they pledged themselves to the cause once more. Some were reasonable, while others were just testing their luck with outlandish requests. One even demanded "The esteemed Prince Phobos" demonstrate his commitment to their kind with a marriage proposal to prove he wouldn't toss his convictions aside so quickly again. Phobos decided to spare Cedric the...indignity of that particular letter and discreetly disposed of it. He'd never heard such nonsense in his life. Ruling a kingdom felt like herding particularly disgruntled cats into a lake at times, especially without Cedric around to attend to the administrative duties. He hated dealing with such small-minded concerns, and he'd ended up slowly tearing apart the pieces of parchment and lighting them on fire for his petty amusement. Halfway through his little game, he remembered that they needed those letters and decided he was simply not meant for the duties of a Lord, and it was lucky for the kingdom he'd been born a Prince instead.
So, instead of trying and failing to do anything productive, he retreated back to his pool to lay around aimlessly instead. He excused his laziness with the assumption that his time would be more limited there once the shifter did return. He'd...not yet shown Cedric his power nexus. The shifter had been against the creation of it in the first place. It was what had caused the fight. It seemed ill-advised to rub it in his face. Phobos had created a near-sacred for himself in the heart of his new castle. The spring water was clear as crystal and as comfortable as bathwater, and even the stones that surrounded the pool were warm to the touch. He'd summoned his whisperers to the area, and they clung to the smooth, stone walls of the massive cavern and kept him aware of the goings-on in the castle while he rested. It was dark and tranquil, even as the energy of an entire world boiled under the surface. It was his most remarkable feat of magic thus far. He was proud of it.
If Cedric responded unfavorably, he doubted he would be able to hold his temper back. He knew he was being melodramatic and that Cedric would not do such a thing, but he still hesitated. The shifter wasn't the only one with a scar from their altercation. He tried not to think about it, instead trying to simply enjoy the feeling of power flowing effortlessly over his skin. It wasn't the Heart, the glorious light he deserved, but it was close and a reminder Meridian itself had yielded to his superior power. And that was always more than enough to calm his jittery nerves.
Phobos had practically been dozing off in the depths of the spring when, without warning, the warm air of his chamber suddenly seemed to chill, and his senses heightened as if he were being stalked in the night. There was barely time to register the hiss of scales against rocks before the entire chamber was bathed in an eruption of bluish light that very nearly frightened Phobos out of his skin. His hands instantly flew to cover the naked space between his legs. However, he quickly realized how ridiculous that impulse was considering the identity of the person who'd invaded his sanctuary. It took all the restraint he'd so diligently practiced over the last few months for him to not metaphorically snap Cedric's head off-or literally.
He straightened his back and rested his arms as leisurely as he could on the ledge as he tried to calm the fearful, erratic beating of his heart. He was desperately hoping to seem unaffected by Cedric's unexpected and unannounced arrival. The nerve of him, trying to startle him as if they were still school children!
"Lord Cedric," he greeted him cordially, not even bothering to look back at the shifter to complete his facade of indifference, though he would have liked nothing better than to shriek and throw magic at him. "And how did you find your way down here?"
"Forgive me, my Prince. I did not mean to intrude. I was simply searching for you."
That would have been easier to believe if he couldn't hear the faintest hint of amusement in Cedric's voice and if the spring wasn't heavily concealed to avoid this exact scenario. He would have glanced back at the shifter to confirm his suspicions, but he could tell just from his voice he was smirking—wretched worm.
"Mmm-hmm," he allowed a sharp tone of displeasure to creep into his voice. He could only tolerate so much disrespect at a time. "I wasn't informed of your return. Why did you not send word ahead? What of the battle? Did something go wrong?"
"No, my Prince. Everything went as planned. I meant to send word ahead, but I was too intent on unraveling Manafort before he came to the castle. He was quite the treasure trove, so to speak. It was a total victory. Lord Manafort was the key leader of the string of insurrections we've faced, and now he's in the dungeons, and his followers are scattered to the winds. I suspect we may even enjoy some peace and quiet for a time. Though he did beg me to let you know how...eager he is to see you again, your highness."
"As am I," he chuckled darkly. He'd nearly forgotten who Cedric had been after this time. It seemed every noble with any sense of ambition had tried to start his own rebellion. But this was excellent news! A crucial victory and a personal vendetta put to rest in one swipe? What could be better? While he barely knew the man, he still was more than excited to punish the arrogant fool who'd dared to speak to him in such a way. Maybe he'd hang what was left of his corpse off the ramparts as a warning once they were done with him. Cedric had earned his little prank, apparently. He turned his head back slightly to acknowledge the shifter.
"And what of my sister, what did he know of her kidnapping? I assume he was responsible for that as well."
He heard Cedric hum for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. Phobos assumed that it was not good news.
"Yes and no. Manafort did orchestrate the abduction of your sister and helped facilitate those who did the actual dirty work, but he did not intend for her ever to be taken off the planet. She was meant to be taken to him. He hoped she would be a rallying cry of sorts for him. That all of Meridian would stand behind him to aid his noble quest to restore the line of Queens. Apparently, those whom he trusted to steal her thought she was safer elsewhere. Unsurprising, considering how splintered these groups are."
Phobos signed loudly and then asked bitterly, "And does he know where she went?"
He could hear the soft thud thud thud of Cedric's pacing behind him. "Lord Manafort was conducting his own search for her. His, since he knew the abductors personally, panned out better than ours. It seems the plan was to take her to Earth. A village called Heatherfield"
Phobos pushed his fingers into his temples, hoping to stop the throbbing of a migraine before it started. "Of course. How appropriate. A new Leryn comes to liberate Meridian in its darkest hour. No doubt she will be highly trained and thoroughly prepared for us." The urge to blame and berate Cedric was on the tip of his tongue. He should have been there, but he wasn't, he'd left him alone and vulnerable and now it seemed the Heart was truly lost to him. Worse still, its power would be used to de-throne and humiliate him.
"Perhaps or perhaps not." Cedric's voice was calm and calculating. Goosebumps raised in his arms. Phobos knew to stop his brooding and listen when Cedric took that tone.
"I looked over the research they collected before they took Princess. The people of Earth do not believe in magic or other worlds anymore. The planet has...advanced far faster than Meridian. Anyone who still believes or mentions the old ways is treated as if they have brain rot. If they tell her she possesses great magic and is a princess of a magical world, I do not know of any child, particularly a human one, that could resist using their powers for petty amusements. It will be safer for them all if she knows nothing. They risk the girl being taken from them or being imprisoned themselves if exposed. And your sister will almost certainly grow up thinking she is nothing special at all, knowing nothing but lies about herself and her 'parents'. Can you imagine the reaction if she ever found out the truth from a concerned party desperate to return her to her world and the last of her real family?"
Phobos fought down the elation that erupted in him from the words. It was almost too perfect, and that instantly flared up his paranoia once more. "This is all hypothetical. We will have no certainties that this will play out in the way you describe, or that she's even on Earth. It could have been a ploy, a misdirection."
"Yes, that is all true, My Prince. But we know the child went through a portal and we know the plan was to go to Earth, a place of great importance to your people. The nurse escaped the castle in a human guise, and there is only one other world I know of where your people reside in great numbers. Earth. It's our parallel dimension, it makes the most sense for a portal, even one created by magic, to open there and it's where the scholars speculate the natural portals will open once the veil starts to disintegrate. Sometimes the most obvious answer is the answer, especially with a rushed plot like this. They put it together in a week, after all. Desperate people make mistakes. Furthermore, we have Manafort, and he knows the names of the other conspirators, though he would not share them with me no matter how hard I squeezed. I doubt you will face the same problem, and if we find someone still left on Meridian who was involved in the true plot, we can confirm our suspicions."
Phobos frowned, both troubled and enthused by everything Cedric told him. It seemed unlikely to him that anyone would leave the Heart so vulnerable, so unprotected. Why risk it? But, even if it was true, and he could just reach out and pull Heart back to him ready for taking, all of this was so many years down the road. Over a decade. He would drive himself to insanity if he fixated all his energy on the hypothetical. For now, all matters concerning the Heart had to be neatly tucked away. It was too uncertain. Too precious. The loss would consume him if not careful, for there was nothing to be done to fix it. The focus would have to be maintained on the now, like finding the remaining traitors so he could rest easy in his bed once more.
"Very well. I will attend to it in the morning. Excellent work, Lord Cedric."
There was a moment of silence, and then he heard Cedric's boots scuff on the stone floor behind him as if he were fidgeting. Phobos held back a sigh. Cedric was rarely nervous about anything, and the shifter was nervous then he should be as well.
"I've never seen anywhere in the castle that looks like this before. Did you make this place?"
Of course. Phobos furrowed his brows at the change of subject. This was exactly what he'd hoped to avoid by keeping Cedric out of his space. Yet another awkward conversation. They'd just gotten past all that.
"No, this cavern was here long before the Escanors. Only the vines are my doing." He hoped the purposefully short answer would dissuade Cedric from continuing.
"It's astonishing what you've done. To harness the power of the whole planet in such a way."
Apparently not. The months of Cedric's platitudes and appeasements had worn on him, and he was uncertain whether the approval he so desperately craved was simply contrived. He narrowed his eyes and told the shifter sharply,
"You sound like the sycophants on the Council, Cedric. I do not need false praises. I've let the matter go already. Perhaps you should as well."
He heard Cedric scoff behind him.
"I'm not trying to flatter you, my Prince. You know well as I that something of this magnitude has never been done before. This magic is far beyond the scope of what any sorcerer has ever even attempted. That alone would make this worthy of praise, no matter who had accomplished it, and yet you managed to do so without any assistance. Of course, I'm impressed. How could I not be?"
Phobos bit at the corners of his lips to stop the smile that desperately tried to make its way onto his face. So, he was not above falling victim to the shifter's gilded words himself, though he'd felt that this time, they were truthful. Cedric was right after all; he was very impressive.
"It was a necessary risk," he forced himself to respond flatly, no need to let Cedric know how easily he'd won him over.
"Yes, it was, my Prince."
The shifter was suddenly kneeling behind him. The Prince was slightly taken aback by the blurry outline of a nearly healed wound across his cheek as he stared at his reflection in the water. It was extremely difficult to land a hit on Cedric during battle. But his mind was too distracted to contemplate such matters for long as the shifters, for once, thankfully, warm hands clutched his shoulders. He started kneading and rubbing gently and working his fingers against his muscles adeptly. The water had already melted away all his tensions the moment he'd entered it, but Cedric's ministrations were pleasurable all the same. The shifter leaned down further and butted his head against Phobos' tenderly as he worked. His muscles tensed in eagerness even as the shifter tried to soothe them and his blood practically boiled as Cedric's fingers drifted across and pressed into his bare skin. Most noticeably however, there was an unmistakable and rather painful engorgement growing between his legs. Gods, it had been so long since...well, anything like this. And Phobos' appetite never held a candle to Cedric's, so if he was aching, he could scarcely imagine how or why the shifter had held back from him for so long.
"I brought you something," the shifter whispered, low and almost suggestively into his ear. Phobos managed to repress a groan, even as his face fell into a scowl. Cedric was not one for innuendos, so it was most likely an actual gift. But unlike the luxurious things Phobos would have gifted him with, Cedric preferred to bring back his trophies to show off. Watching someone be slowly suffocated to death or observing other various forms of torture was one thing; parading around severed body parts was another. Especially when said body parts were slammed down excitedly next to him after he'd dozed off at his desk.
"Cedric, my dear pet, I swear if you have brought me another decapitated head, I am going to-"
"No! No, it's not another head! Really, it's not that impressive as it is anyway. Unfortunately."
Cedric reached into the folds of his robes and produced a thin, gold tiara in front of him. Phobos recognized it by shape alone instantly and promptly sat up, rigid as a board, and snatched the crown from Cedric.
"The Crown of Light..." he said longingly. They never had found it in the Royal vault.
It was the official crown of the Escanor Dynasty, not the day crowns that more resembled hats than tiaras that each Queen had tailored to them, but the crown Leryn herself had brought from Earth. The one the Queens wore on their Coronation day. But...every beautiful apatite and diamond and pearl it should have contained had been pried loose from the metal, leaving only ugly empty sockets. Phobos examined what was left of it with a hint of bitterness, for the loss of the crown in the first place, and now its precious gems, and even just from gazing upon it again. It was a poignant reminder of what he would never be.
"This was in the traitor's possession; I take it?"
The shifter's reflection nodded affirmatively.
"Well, well. Lord Manafort was a traitor and a thief, apparently. He must have taken this as soon as Mother passed. So much for loyalty to the glorious Light."
"But why would he do that to it? Isn't it much more valuable intact?"
Phobos hummed for a moment, then relaxed against Cedric once more and handed the bespoiled crown back to the shifter, who apparently took that as permission to pocket it again. Phobos doubted he would ever see it again. Oh well, it wasn't as if a Prince had a use for a Queen's crown anyway. It would probably be better suited to sitting around and collecting dust in Cedric's ever-growing treasure hoard anyway
"Certainly," he finally answered Cedric's question. "But I doubt he took it to sell it. The stones it contained originated from where my people came from. Off-world gems are scarce and supposedly work better than Meridian mined gems in spells and alchemy. Perhaps he used them for that purpose."
"What a waste." Cedric's voice was bitter at even the thought of crushed-up and powdered gemstones.
Phobos nodded. "Indeed, we could have used them for that instead."
Cedric's reflection gave him a side glance, and his lips pouted delicately at his words. Phobos chuckled lightly at the sight. Then his face hardened as a thought crossed his mind.
"Did you encounter any unusual resistance or strange magic that might account for the loss?"
"No, my Prince, and Manafort isn't a sorcerer. By all accounts, he despises magic, save for the 'righteous light' of the Queen. He claimed to me he didn't even know he had the crown, which seems unlikely, of course. Either way, I'm certain with enough pressure, the truth will reveal itself."
"Hmm, very well. But we must keep our guard up despite this victory. This could all be part of a larger plot, with some form of occult magic at the center."
"Yes, my Prince."
The matter dealt with his mind turned back to other concerns. He studied Cedric's reflection carefully, trying to determine his intentions. Surely, he would not behave so brazenly as he was if he did not intend to be intimate. By the Light, he'd been rubbing his shoulders as he sat nude in his pool. And there was no missing his current state of arousal from where Cedric knelt perched above him, even with the distortion of the water. Would the shifter be so cruel as to deny him this time?
"Good. Now, is there anything else?" Phobos presented the purposely open-ended question as nonchalantly as possible, even as he resisted the urge to pull Cedric into the pool with him fully clothed. He would not corner the shifter again, even if he were desperate for him.
"Would you like me to join you, Your Highness?" Cedric asked, just as blase as Phobos had been. Then the shifter's too-sharp teeth grazed his earlobe, and Phobos shivered in anticipation at the contact. As he often did, he wondered where in his psyche he'd gone so wrong as to be so attracted to something so unnatural and even dangerous to his kind. However, it was a pointless question because no matter how often he pondered the question, the only answer he ever came to was that he just did. Maybe they really could hypnotize humans.
"If you so desire," he tossed back, hoping he didn't sound as pathetically needy as he was. His body was giving off more than enough signals without his voice betraying him too.
All he heard in reply was the ruffling of Cedric's robes as he removed them. It took a few moments-Cedric's usual robes were ridiculously complicated. Phobos was the picture of apathy as he reclined with his eyes closed, waiting for the shifter to finish, but inside he was practically quivering with impatience. The sweet sound of Cedric slipping into the water next to him was as near as glorious a sound as he'd heard for some time. But it was promptly followed by Cedric hissing in pain as the water met his naked body. Phobos leaned up in concern and raised an eyebrow in bewilderment.
"What's wrong?"
Cedric fidgeted and shook himself as if he were in a nettle patch. He straightened his back, and brushed at his arms, took a few deep breaths, and then finally answered.
"The water feels...odd. I suppose it must be the excess energy."
Phobos wrinkled his nose delicately, confused.
"Doesn't it feel good to you?" The spring felt more comforting and blissful to him than the warmth of his feather-down bed.
"It's…" he paused and scratched at his arms some more, "an...interesting feeling, good is not the term that initially came to mind, however."
"Well, what does it feel like?"
"I don't know exactly...itchy, I suppose."
"Itchy?" Phobos deadpanned. For someone who was usually so elegant with their words, he expected better than that. Then he shook his head. His original thoughts of spending a few minutes actually swimming together had quickly vanished as his eyes raked over the shifter's nude form. He'd waited long enough. "Oh, never mind."
Phobos tossed aside his usual dignified indifference, for when he wanted something, he wanted it, and grabbed Cedric by his waist, and pulled him against his torso. Cedric chuckled mischievously and looked down at him with devious serpent-like eyes and there was an agonizing moment of stillness before he grasped his jawline firmly and kissed him. Insatiable rapture ran through Phobos' every muscle like wildfire, and he briskly coaxed Cedric's tongue into his waiting mouth. And judging by the enthusiastic response he received, Phobos wasn't the only one who'd been in want of some intimacy. The Prince's hands wandered greedily across Cedric's back as he was ravished, but his fingers soon brushed across something that should not have been there and he pulled back to examine it with a frown.
There was a long and deep ragged gouge running down the middle of his posterior ribs. It had just barely begun to heal, unlike the one upon his face, which meant even his accelerated regeneration process had trouble suturing it. Phobos' fingers lingered over it in a silent question. It was nearly impossible to pierce Cedric's scales, and he never donned his human form away from the relative safety of the castle. Cedric had said there were no problems, yet this was close to a mortal wound on a supposedly near-invincible creature. The shifter seemed confused for a moment as if he'd forgotten it'd even happened and then snorted in derision and rolled his eyes.
"Lord Manafort was in possession of a great many of your lovely ancestral relics, including a particularly troublesome spear meant for hunting equally troublesome shapeshifters."
Phobos' eyes narrowed hatefully. Would his family's biases ever stop reaching out from the past to hurt them? But Cedric just smirked and chuckled darkly.
"He...simply caught me off guard, he only did so once."
Phobos raised his eyebrows suspiciously, "And your face?"
Cedric's smirk fell and he puffed himself up with wounded pride. "And in return, the Councilman currently possesses far less of his face than when you last saw him."
Phobos was silent for a moment as he tried to process being unsettled and vengeful and aroused all at once. He supposed he should just feel lucky he still had all his face after threatening to skin him. Cedric took advantage of his disquiet and reached down to seize and then feverishly stroke his member, and as Phobos opened his mouth to moan, he firmly claimed his mouth once more.
After a time, Phobos finally had to break apart from him with heavy, deep pants. While, in contrast, Cedric tilted his head mischievously and flicked his forked tongue out leisurely once more, completely unbothered by the few minutes without air.
"You're more eager than usual, my Prince," he teased.
Phobos exhaled loudly in exasperation, "Stop talking."
Cedric did as he was ordered. Resuming the talented working of his hand below the water, as his mouth now ventured to Phobos neck, biting and sucking gleefully to the Prince's throaty groans. Soon enough, Phobos had to harshly knock Cedric's hand away as his thighs started to tense in preparation, not waiting to end things quite so quickly nor in that manner. Head hazy with pleasure and yet still yearning for more, he half dragged half led the shapeshifter over to an underwater shelf. He propped himself up upon it, wrapped his legs around his waist, and reached down with one hand, trying to guide Cedric inside of him. But Cedric abruptly pulled away from where he'd been nibbling on his neck and gazed at him with a distracted expression.
"Not in here," he chided him.
Phobos snarled in breathless frustration, digging his fingernails cruelly into that particularly sensitive organ to signal his immense displeasure.
"Why not?"
Cedric carefully pulled the Prince's hand off him, his face stoic despite Phobos' petulant and painful act.
"The decision is yours, of course, your Highness, but I think you'll find that being waist-deep in water is not the most conducive environment for this particular activity."
"Ah."
Phobos felt a flush of embarrassment spread across his traitorous cheeks for acting like a spoiled child. He'd nearly forgotten in the fog of his lust of the certain...logistical elements necessary for a pairing such as theirs. "I trust you brought-"
"I have all sorts of interesting things in my pockets."
Phobos opened his mouth to give him a scathing reply, but Cedric swiftly grasped him by his waist and picked him up and out of the pool as if his weight were nothing to him. Phobos scrambled frantically for purchase on his wet skin, never really having gotten used to being handled in such a way, even though Cedric did it often. He placed him down gently on the ledge, gave him a quick kiss, and purposely strode over to his clothing. Phobos sat there cross-legged and awkward and slightly abashed by his petty behavior as Cedric fished around in his massive pile of discarded robes. So, he could be a tad brash when he was focused on his desires; at least Cedric knew how much he wanted him.
Once Cedric found what he was looking for, he quickly returned to him, picking him up effortlessly once more and repositioning them next to one of the massive limestone formations. There were a few cumbersome moments of preparation, and then Cedric leaned back against the stone and gestured for the Prince to come to him. Phobos eagerly clambered onto him, every inch of him burning with a need for the reward he'd earned for months of dreadful patience. Cedric's fingers dug into his skin, and his breath hitched as he helped guide the Prince down onto his length. Phobos grit his teeth, and his back arched in not quite a pain, but more like discomfort as he tried to settle himself. The shifter was quick to lean up and wrap his arms around him comfortingly, his fingers resuming his massage from earlier. Phobos' head rolled back as that small hint of pain faded into delirious ecstasy as Cedric pressed kisses into every inch of his skin that was available to him, his neck, chest, mouth, and forehead, all the while rhythmically rolling his hips softly under him. He was so caught in the moment, lost in the feel of Cedric's skin and lips all over him, he barely recognized when it was over, but for the tight and overwhelming clenching of his groin and the mirroring pulsing of the organ deep inside him. They were silent for a moment as they recovered, Cedric still cradling Phobos and nuzzling his head softly against him in a state of sappy and spent bliss. Phobos indulged him for a time, distracting himself from the over affection with the pleasant sounds of the falling water behind them.
However, after several minutes of this had passed, Phobos finally had to push his face and hands away from him. Every gentle touch suddenly felt like thorns stabbing his skin. He really could only handle so much. He was just about to un-straddle himself when he glanced down at Cedric and gave him a wicked smirk, and decided to return all his teasing.
"Well, have you finally forgiven me then?" he asked him.
Cedric raised an eyebrow and then delivered a swift, rough thrust inside him from his not yet soft member, which made Phobos yelp loudly in surprise and a twinge of pain.
"I don't know; I might require a few more heartfelt apologies like this one."
Phobos decided then Cedric was spoiled and insufferable and rotten to his very core, and that he would have him no other way.
He supposed.
AN-
Something of a filler chapter mostly featuring Phobos being a brat, but I didn't want to go from angsty disaster to angsty disaster. Comic fans will recognize the 'Crown of Light' as an essential aspect of the comics that got completely omitted in the cartoon. While I was bastardizing the WITCH canon, I figured I should at least give it a cameo even though I altered its appearance. And cartoon fans will know why it's missing its gems, one large blue-green gem in particular.
As always, thank you to everyone for taking your time to read this! The views and reviews are greatly appreciated.
-RoR