THE PRICE OF HONOR
Disclaimers: Final Fantasy XII and all other related characters, events, etc. do not belong to me.
Overall Story Notes: (minor spoilers) The story is about Gabranth and Larsa so in my story, Gabranth DID NOT die in the end of the game. :)
Chapter Notes: Chapter 20 happens the day after Chapter 19.
Author's Notes: Just the usual apology for grammatical eyesores. Please do enjoy. :)
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Vaan whistled as he watched the Shiva dock at the West Gate Aerodome, along with more than a handful of Rabanastran on-lookers. "Looks like Larsa brought his whole army with him, eh Penelo?"
Penelo looked up from the goods she had carried out from their airship and laughed. "I'm just glad he had enough sense not to bring the Alexander or else Ashe would have a riot on her hands—on her coronation too, of all days!"
Dalmascan knights exited from the West Gate and waited by the Aerodome's entrance, lead by none other than Basch himself.
"Vaan, Penelo. The Lady Ashe will be very pleased to know that you have come. She was worried when she received no reply from you both." The Captain greeted from atop his chocobo.
"Being sky pirates, it's hard to keep track of the mail!" Vaan said proudly as he puffed his chest out slightly. "But we wouldn't miss Ashe's coronation for anything. It's all Penelo's been blabbing about since last month!"
Penelo slapped Vaan's arm and was about to say something when more than a dozen mounted Imperials emerged from the Aerodome.
"Well, someone knows how to make an entrance." A voice from behind the new sky pirates made them both jump in surprise before breaking out into wide smiles.
"Balthier! You've come!" Penelo chirped as she regarded the smug sky pirate. "Fran! You came too! I missed you both!" The Viera smiled warmly at the pair. "I am pleased to see you are both faring well."
"It seems the Lord Regent has stolen the leading man's entrance. Such a shame." Balthier said melodramatically as he watched the seeming parade of Imperial soldiers leaving the Aerodome. Finally, a particularly large, red chocobo emerged, mounted by Larsa—followed closely by an even larger black, armoured chocobo mounted by Judge Gabranth.
"Larsa! Hey Larsa! Over here!" Vaan called out over the sound of a dozen chirping, squawking chocobos. Larsa turned his head and quickly led his mount to where his friends stood, quickly forgetting his large cortege.
"Vaan, Penelo, Balthier, Fran, Basch! You are all here! I am delighted to be here with all of you!" Larsa greeted enthusiastically.
"You sure do know how to make an entrance!" Penelo laughed as she pointed to Larsa's 100-man escort.
"It's Zargabaath. He insisted I bring a hundred soldiers, even though I believe that Gabranth would do well enough to protect me." Larsa beckoned for the Judge to come closer, which Gabranth did—though he felt slightly awkward and out of place... given the last time he had encountered the party. The Judge nodded but did not say anything, thankful for his helm from saving him from another potentially overtly discomfiting situation.
"We can attest to that!" Balthier said in jest, to ease the tension he could visibly see in the Judge's posture even astride his chocobo. "Gabranth would have felled the whole of Dalmasca by himself, before anyone could have reached you, little Emperor."
The party shared hearty laughter over the truth of Balthier's statement which eased Gabranth's unease. The Judge Magister motioned for four chocobos to be brought forth and offered them to Vaan and the others, who accepted the mounts graciously.
"I'll race you to the castle Larsa!" Vaan hollered as he dug his heels into his chocobo's haunches, urging the bird to a sprint towards the city.
"You shall eat my royal dust, Vaan!" Larsa shouted in turn as he did the same, his red chocobo likewise bursting into a sprint after the other chocobo.
"Vaan! What in Ivalice is he thinking?" Penelo cried out in exasperation.
Gabranth was about to chase after the Archadian Regent, but Basch held his chocobo's bridle to stay him. "Be at ease, Noah, he is safe here. He is now under my guard as well." The younger twin thought for a moment before he nodded in agreement, opting for a leisurely ride towards the Dalmascan palace.
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"A joust?" Gabranth mused as he turned to his subordinates who were holding up identical posters excitedly. He took a poster from a particularly eager Imperial and read it. A joust in honor of the Lady Ashe's coronation and to foster goodwill among the military forces of Dalmasca, Archadia, and the newly rebuilt Nabradia. "It would be a good opportunity..."
"Commander, we would do our best to bring honor to Archadia! Will you grant us permission to enter?" Another Imperial all but begged, barely concealing his excitement at the idea of a joust. Gabranth finally gave his acquiesce which was followed by rowdy and excited cheering.
"My knights will not make it easy for your Imperials in the joust." Basch said with a smirk as he, too, led his chocobo to the stables.
"I'll wager on that, brother." Gabranth replied with equal pomp as they walked together to the royal box, where the Lady Ashe, Lord Larsa, Vaan, Penelo, Balthier, Fran, and the newly-crowned princess of Nabradia had gathered to watch the joust. The stands were filled and the crowd cheered wildly as the competitors rode out one by one to pay their respects to the Lady of Dalmasca.
"It pleases me that you have all come to my coronation. Nothing has made me happier." Ashe said sincerely as she gathered her friends close, she even smiled at Gabranth who was caught off-guard at the warm welcome.
The joust soon began, Archadian Imperials, Dalmascan Knights, and even Nabradia's Kingsguard proved their worth on the field—each with equal fervor. The crowd was thrilled at the display of knightly skill, the bids going higher as the competitors became fewer and fewer in number. Before the finals, the Dalmascan Great Maester stood up and shakily made his way to the front of the royal box.
"In true Dalmascan tradition, it is asked that the Heads of State choose one champion from their nation to compete in the royal joust. The winner will, of course, win a kiss from our future queen."
The princess of Nabradia, Raelyn Heios, stepped forward and whispered something to the Grand Maester. The elderly man cleared his throat. "As it seems the Kingdom of Nabradia's champion is the female general, Bellatrix—the champion has a choice to win a kiss from the future Emperor and Lord Regent of the Archadian Empire, Lord Larsa."
Larsa turned an impossible shade of red and Gabranth visibly stiffened as the crowd went wild at the announcement. A battle between the champions of nations was something to behold!
The female general of Nabradia's kingsguard rode her white chocobo before the royal box and raised her visor before bowing. "General Bellatrix for Nabradia, my lady."
Ashe then turned to Basch and rested a hand lightly on his arm. "Would you do me the honor, Captain?"
Basch nodded as he called for his chocobo. Once saddled, he mounted it and trotted to his place beside Bellatrix. He raised his visor and bowed as well. "Captain Basch fon Ronsenburg for Dalmasca, my lady."
Finally, everyone turned to Larsa who still had a healthy blush on his cheeks. The young regent looked over his Imperial cortege, a number of whom had stepped forward—offering to bring honor to the Empire. Yet, the choice was clear as Larsa slowly turned to Gabranth, who stood unusually straighter behind him. "Judge Magister Gabranth, would you give me this honor?"
Gabranth had a sinking feeling in his gut that this was not going to end well, but he nodded in acquiesce. His black war chocobo was saddled and he mounted it, taking his place as well beside his brother. He removed his helm and the sound of collective gasping filled the air—for there, side by side, were two identical Captains fon Ronsenburg. Basch's option to keep his blonde hair clipped just when he had during the year he spent in Archadia did nothing but bring them even closer in appearance. Gabranth looked at his older twin accusingly before bowing to Ashe. "Judge Magister Gabranth for Archadia, my lady."
"Champions, I bid you goodluck! Fight bravely and with honor!" Ashe declared before she sat back down, barely concealing her own excitement.
The crowd's cheers escalated as the first round was announced: The Lady General Bellatrix against Captain Basch fon Ronsenburg. Both knights bowed to the future queen and to each other, Basch noting how noticeably young the other knight was—barely older than the princess of Nabradia herself. He promised inwardly to do his best not to harm her.
The chocobos dug their talons restlessly in the soft grass beneath them, their riders adjusting shield and lances one last time before the trumpet was blown. The chocobos charged at each other with equal ferocity as the knights who mounted them. Skilled though she was, Bellatrix was little match for Basch's experience and she was knocked off her chocobo by the sheer momentum of the Captain's thrust.
Basch quickly turned his chocobo around and offered his hand to the lady who lay on the grass flat on her back. She lifted her visor and took the proffered hand. "Thank you, Captain." Bellatrix and Basch walked and bowed before the latter was proclaimed the winner. Raelyn Heios approached Basch as he returned to the stands and took his hands earnestly in hers. "Thank you, sir... for not hurting her." The Captain's brows furrowed in confusion but nodded anyway.
Gabranth, on the other hand, was restlessly running his fingers through his chocobo's feathers. The sinking feeling he had in his gut only multiplied tenfold. He could not understand why, he was not afraid of facing his brother—it was quite the contrary, truth be told. When Basch was, unsurprisingly, declared the winner of the first round, Gabranth mounted his chocobo while he let one of the Imperials finish strapping the shield to his forearm.
The twin brothers paid their respects to Ashe, as was customary, the latter still laughing fondly at the sight of the identical knights before they parted and took their place on either side of the bar. Gabranth put on his helm securely and held his lance tightly, adrenaline suddenly pumping in his veins. He barely heard the sound of the trumpet over the sound of blood rushing in his ears as he urged his chocobo to a sprint.
It was all a blur as both chocobos charged with their equally intense riders so that none of the spectators actually saw how both knights managed to knock each other down from their respective mounts. The sound of metal crashing against grass resounded in the field as both Captain and Judge Magister awkwardly fell back-first unto the ground. Both acting by instinct, they scrambled to their feet, tore off their shields from their forearms, and searched for their arms. Basch drew his broadsword with both hands while Gabranth drew his double swords and drew himself to his battle stance.
The spectators, including those in the royal box, who were rendered silent for one moment at the seeming draw were on their feet at the realization that the battle was not over. The cheers thundered in the open field as both champions circled each other before the real battle began. Gabranth charged first, his blow parried with much difficulty by the Captain. Basch retaliated with a blow of his own which was barely blocked by his twin. The exchange of blows was fierce and their blows were delivered with such force that small sparks could be seen from every clash of metal against metal.
Larsa gripped the arms of his chair tightly, more than a little worried at the intensity of the battle between Gabranth and Basch. Penelo laid a comforting hand on the regent's shoulder knowingly, but it did little to calm Larsa down.
"I suppose I should choose a kiss from the Lord Regent, eh Noah?" Basch jeered with a laugh as he parried another of Gabranth's attacks.
"You would not dare!" The younger twin hissed through his helm, sparing a quick glance at the royal box and seeing an equally distressed Lady Ashelia. A realization dawned on him. "And I supposed I should choose a kiss from the Lady of Dalmasca."
The mirth in Basch's voice suddenly disappeared at Gabranth's comment and he delivered a particularly hard blow which disarmed one of his twin's swords.
"Oh, so that's how it is, brother!" Gabranth shot back as he struck at Basch who, again, parried. Their swords pushed hard against each other until both knights knocked each other's weapons out of their hands.
Without a second thought, the brothers tore off their helms and resorted to the last weapons they had at hand. Much to everyone's shock, both the Captain of the Brotherhood of the Knights of Dalmasca and the Judge Magister Commander of the Archadian Army started throwing punches at one another.
"By the gods!" Ashe exclaimed as he raised her hands to cover her mouth.
Larsa stood up from his seat and leaned over the edge of the royal box, distress painted on his features.
"Is it just me or is this royal joust starting to look much like a back alley brawl?" Balthier commented off-handedly, though his raised brows belied his shock at the situation unfurling before them.
"Stop! Stop this madness at once!" Ashe finally found her voice and commanded the knights to pull the twins apart before they ended up tearing each other apart at the rate they were going. The crowd cried in disappointment when the fight was broken up by both the Dalmascan Knights and the Imperials. The Grand Maester quickly took the stand, "it seems we have a draw! Will the champions please come before the Lady Ashe and the Lord Regent Larsa."
Aching and dishevelled, the brothers mounted their respective chocobos and rode to where both Heads of State stood stiffly—with equally disappointed expressions. Gabranth shot Basch a glare which the other conveniently ignored. The elderly man held the traditional laurel wreath then frowned, realizing they had only one.
"Let the Captain keep his leaves, I will claim my kiss from the Lady Ashe as my prize." Gabranth spoke cheekily as he moved his chocobo away slightly when Basch tried to kick him off.
Ashe tried to hide her apparent surprise, but decided it was best to end the joust-turned-brawl before the brothers were at each other's throats again. "Very well, dismount Judge Magister so that you may claim your prize."
"Wait! I, too, have no desire for the wreath. I will claim my kiss from the Lord Regent Larsa as my prize." Basch likewise dismounted and stood before the furiously blushing boy.
The twins threw each other glares which promised death as they knelt to receive their respective rewards.
Ashe gently wiped the dirt off Gabranth's cheek with her handkerchief before planting a light kiss on the tan cheek. Basch felt the unfamiliar urge to murder his brother.
Larsa rubbed the dirt from Basch's skin with his glove before he, too, placed a chaste kiss on the Captain's cheek. Gabranth was almost overcome with the desire to murder his brother.
The tension between them was almost suffocating that the Maester had to have them escorted separately away from the field before announcing that the coronation ceremony would begin in an hour in the Royal Shrine of Dalmasca. This gave ample time for everyone to clean up, and for the brothers to sort themselves out.
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The coronation was joyful, though there was as much formalities as there were well-wishers, that Gabranth could feel a crick in his back from standing too stiffly for much too long. The newly-crowned Queen of Dalmasca, breathtakingly beautiful in her pristine white gown, stood up from her throne, the crown of her people sitting proudly on her platinum hair. Queen Ashelia delivered her speech well, inspiring those who listened with her words of freedom and hope—and of looking to the future, and learning from mistakes of the past. The crowd applauded as the new Queen left the shrine to prepare for the feast.
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All formalities done with, Ashe was able to change into something more comfortable—after all, she was to be with old friends now. The Queen entered the small chambers where the party had gathered around a small table, eating and sharing stories of their adventures for the past year. Noticeable was the Judge Magister who stood stiffly by the door, looking quite alone.
"Gabranth, will you not join us? You are one of us now, you are more than welcome to share our table." Ashe asked kindly as she offered the Magister a seat. Larsa looked up hopefully, having given up trying to convince Gabranth by himself. The blonde looked at Ashe, then at Larsa, then at Basch (with much contempt), before settling back at Larsa. He awkwardly took the offered seat and removed his helm, resting it on the edge of the table.
"Quite handsome, isn't he?" Balthier teased as he eyed the young regent from the corner of his keen eyes. "Oh yes, quite." Basch added sarcastically, though without good humor.
Vaan, oblivious as always, propped his elbows on the table and leaned over Ashe. "So, Ashe—now that you're Queen... will you be getting married anytime soon?"
Basch suddenly choked on something and began coughing uncontrollably. Penelo shot Vaan a murderous look as the table jumped a foot in the air. Vaan howled as Penelo kicked him from under the table. "What was that for? I was just asking!"
Ashe put down her fork as she tried to look unaware of the blush which was definitely staining her cheeks. "Well, Vaan... I am—entertaining a suitor as of late." The Queen chose her words carefully, though she avoided looking at anyone in particular.
"Oh, is he handsome? Is he a lord of some sort? Where is he from?"
Again, the table jumped as Penelo delivered another debilitating kick from underneath it. "Vaan, grow up please!"
"Okay! Okay! I'll stop asking if you stop kicking me! Geez Penelo, I'll be going home a cripple!" Vaan whimpered as he rubbed his aching shins. Fran and Balthier exchanged amused smiles while Gabranth gave his twin a knowing look.
"So... Larsa." Vaan then turned his attention to the young lord, who looked up at him with a smile.
"Yes, Vaan?"
"When are you going to get married?"
Larsa's fork fell with a resounding clatter on the marble floor.
Gabranth stood up abruptly, making the others jump from their seats.
"I should... go get Lord Larsa... a new fork." The Judge Magister said awkwardly as he grabbed his helm from the table and quickly left the room.
Five pairs of eyes looked at Vaan accusingly, Larsa stared at his plate in silence—all of a sudden feeling overly interested in his food.
Unsurprisingly, Gabranth did not return.
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Gabranth rolled the thin band of white gold in his fingers, eyes staring forward but unseeing. So lost was he in his thoughts that he did not hear or notice Larsa enter his chambers until the Solidor sat beside him on his bed.
"Lord Larsa-?" Gabranth asked as if waking up from a trance, quickly dropping the ring and chain on the wooden table beside the bed. "Back so soon?"
"Hm." Larsa leant into the Judge's warm body, wrapping his arms around Gabranth's torso. "I could not finish my meal... it seems they did not have any new forks in the kitchen."
The blonde looked down at the Solidor guiltily, suddenly remembering his horrible excuse for leaving. "Forgive me." Gabranth whispered into soft, black hair, wishing Larsa understood what the apology was for.
"What is bothering you, Gabranth?" Larsa asked softly. "You were unlike yourself at the joust... and you left without a word during dinner."
The blonde closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He supposed now was a better time than any other. "I was jealous... so very jealous, Larsa—though it shames me to admit it."
Larsa held Gabranth's head between his hands and leaned in for a kiss. "There is no one else, Gabranth." Another gentle kiss. "There can be no one else."
"How?" Gabranth asked hoarsely, his eyebrows drawing together. "I am jealous of the one who will soon have you by oath."
Larsa paused. "Is that what you are afraid of, Gabranth? Of my marriage?"
"You will not remain young forever."
"I do not intend to, I assure you. No oath before Septons, Priests, Elders, or whoever else can keep my heart from you." Larsa whispered into Gabranth's neck. "Or do you now question our bond?"
With uncharacteristic ferocity, Gabranth pinned the young lord on his back on the bed, hands tight around thin wrists. "Never."
"Then take that which is yours forever." Larsa breathed as he looked straight into intense cobalt orbs.
Gabranth was lost in the depth of Larsa's eyes. He leant down until their faces were so close that Gabranth could feel the young lord's breath caressing his skin. He could see fear, hope, and desire all fight for dominance in Larsa's mind and he moved one hand to trace a feather light trail down a flushed cheek. Testing. Feeling. Remembering.
Larsa's eyes fluttered closed at the light touch and he drew in a breath, unconsciously holding it in anticipation. Gabranth closed the small gap between them, pressing his lips gently against Larsa's own—soft and barely touching. The Solidor released the breath he had been holding and whimpered. To the Judge, it sounded like a plea and it set his whole being alight.
The hand which had traced Larsa's cheek swept around to thread into dark hair, while the other wrapped around the boy's back and pulled him firmly against Gabranth's chest. Even the whole of Ivalice could not stop him now.
Gabranth's tongue caressed Larsa's lips and he opened them, drawing the Judge into him. The Judge's kiss was overwhelming and Larsa clutched at Gabranth's tunic as he moaned into the man's mouth. Gabranth moved his lips lower until he pressed them against Larsa's pale neck which was enticingly exposed to him, making the boy arch up slightly beneath him. Gabranth held Larsa's head in place while his tongue ran over the same spot.
Larsa's breathing hitched as Gabranth pulled their bodies together, fingers running through dark hair. The smell of Larsa filled the blonde's senses and the press of the delicate body beneath him gave Gabranth a heady rush.
"Larsa." Gabranth let the name roll off his tongue in a half moan.
The Solidor bit his lip and looked away. Embarrassed.
"Look at me."
Gabranth gently grasped Larsa's chin and brought them face to face.
"You are so beautiful when you are like this."
Larsa's cheeks burned crimson at the unabashed declaration.
Enjoying the feel of soft hair between his fingers, Gabranth ran his fingers into Larsa's scalp and massaged gently. A soft purr rose up Larsa's throat, the muscles in his neck relaxing under Gabranth's skilled mouth. The Judge's other hand ran under the boy's tunic, running up the slightly heaving chest before dragging the pads of his fingers down Larsa's back—turning the boy into water beneath his fingers. "G—Gabranth..." Larsa groaned breathlessly as he arched up, begging to be touched. The focus in Gabranth's blue eyes sharpened, and they gleamed with a predatory hunger that sent an unfamiliar shiver through Larsa, causing his already painful arousal to throb mercilessly between his legs.
Gabranth took a moment to rid himself of his tunic before reaching down to divest Larsa of his own, nearly violent in his actions, bringing sharp exclamations from Larsa as the tunic was stripped from his body. Then, hands on the Solidor's small hips, Gabranth pushed down until their clothed erections ground together in a most delicious friction. Nails raked down Larsa's ribs, then down to the top of his breeches. Larsa fell back against the pillows as Gabranth hastily nipped and lick his way down to meet his hands. A particulary hard bite to his hip made Larsa cry out as he raised his hips involuntarily, and his breeches were almost torn off him in a frenzy.
Strong hands wrapped around Larsa's knees, lifting them so his feet rested on the bed, knees bent. He looked up at Gabranth, towering over him, with slightly confused eyes—feeling very vulnerable in his position. Gabranth turned his attention fully to Larsa, his eyes sweeping over the boy's body, memorizing. Larsa shyly tried to bring his knees together to hide himself but Gabranth's hands on his knees pushed them apart.
Calloused fingers lightly traced down quivering thighs, but Gabranth's hands were full of impatience, tight with tension—as if his years of strict discipline had crumbled into dust. It was mere seconds before a strong hand wrapped around the satin length of Larsa's manhood in a tense squeeze before joining the other to wrap around slender thighs, gripping tightly, grounding the lithe boy to the mattress. Larsa bit his lip to restrain a particularly loud groan, fingers clutching desperately at the sheets. Locking eyes with Larsa, Gabranth touched his lips to the inside of the boy's knee, and opening his mouth wide, ran his teeth sharply across the tender skin of Larsa's thigh in a line from knee to groin. Lara threw his head back, eyes clenched closed as his hips thrust against the Judge's restraining hold, his world threatening to shatter with the intensity of the desire pulsing through his veins.
"Gabranth—please... do not play with me..."
Blue eyes darkened, pupils dilating, breath coming in short, shallow bursts. Gabranth was fighting to retain some kind of control. Larsa's body was water and he was dying of thirst. Touching was not enough. Tasting only made him want more.
Larsa's manhood throbbed against his tongue. Gabranth savoured the feel of it, treasured every gasp and whimper that he coaxed from the young lord's lips. He glanced up at Larsa, memorizing the sight of him, head thrown back as he arched off the bed—sweat beading along his slender form, making it gleam in the moonlight.
Larsa moaned hotly, unconsciously thrusting his hips in an attempt to push his need further down Gabranth's throat. The Judge reached up a hand to touch Larsa's face, fingers tracing over closed eyes lids till they slid over slightly parted lips. The digits disappeared between pink lips and Larsa sucked them in, threading his tongue through them. Gabranth failed to restrain a moan at the sight—did his young lover know how sensual he was. The blonde's fingers disappeared from Larsa's mouth, and before he could protest, he felt one gently pressing against his entrance.
"Gabranth..." Larsa whimpered, torn between his need and shame in acting so wantonly. Gabranth was in complete control and Larsa felt powerless beneath him. As the first finger breached him, Larsa shut his eyes tightly—fingers clutching painfully at the blonde's upper arms. "Gods... I... please..." The Solidor's words melted into incoherent whimpers as a second finger joined the first with slight difficulty. Soft whimpers of mixed pain and pleasure slowly turned into ragged gasps as Gabranth's fingers thrust into the tight channel, bringing Larsa to a state of arousal he had not known possible.
Gabranth's face was so close that Larsa could feel the older man's warm breath on his cheek, and soft smoothness of his clipped hair on his shoulder. Without thinking, Larsa ran his fingers through the short blonde mane, suddenly clutching tight as Gabranth's fingers withdrew from him only to be replaced by something far larger.
"Larsa..." Gabranth cursed under his breath as he willed his body to obey, his self control dissolving into nothingness. "Gods, Larsa... will you—will you let me take you?"
Larsa looked up at the Judge with glazed blue eyes—curious, and filled with desire. Slowly, almost hesitatingly, Larsa reached up to touch Gabranth's face. He touch the sunburnt cheek first, then slowly traced the strong jaw before running a finger undsteadily across blonde brows—down his nose. "Larsa..." Gabranth begged against the finger which crossed his parted lips.
The Solidor wrapped his arms around the Judge's neck as he whispered his acquiesce. With practiced patience, Gabranth slowly pushed himself into Larsa. Larsa cried out sharply, the pain shooting through him, hot tears spilling down his cheeks. He had expected pain, but not this burning, pulsing, white heat which threatened to split him apart. Gabranth froze, muscles straining to still his movements, though every pore in his body screamed for him to plunge into the unbearable tightness of the young lord beneath him. He waited for Larsa to adjust to him, waiting for the tight body to relax... but Larsa remained as tense and tight as ever.
Gabranth captured the Solidor's lips in his, coaxing it open and drinking the boy's sobs—willing him to relax. The white heat slowly died down to a dull burning and Larsa did his best to blink away the tears from his eyes as he looked up at Gabranth with nothing but love and complete surrender. The blonde leaned into the crook of Larsa's shoulder and ran a tongue up his neck, making the young lord moan and arch up—driving Gabranth deeper into him. Larsa gasped as Gabranth pushed himself further with forced slowness. Trembling hands ran down Gabranth's back as if to memorize the curve of the hard body above him. The blonde groaned deeply as slender fingers dug into the skin of his back, grinding and rocking until he was fully seated in his young lover's body.
Gabranth braced his arms on either side of Larsa's head and flexed his back with another groan. It took all his years of self-control to refrain from thrusting madly into that tunnel of heat. The blonde pulled himself out halfway before pushing back in. Larsa let his head fall back into the mattress and moaned out Gabranth's name. Gabranth pressed in then eased back, slowly, deliberately—sweat running into his eyes.
An intense need was awakened within Larsa as he looked up at Gabranth, a deep longing to be taken, to be possessed by his Judge Protector. Gabranth, intense in a way Larsa had never experienced, was searching his eyes as the thrusts became stronger and deeper. Strong hands held Larsa from sliding up on the mattress, one hand at his hip, another on his shoulder. Gabranth hooked an arm under one of Larsa's knees and thrust deep. Larsa's eyes flew wide open, fingers digging deeper into Gabranth's back as his mouth opened in a soundless cry. The blonde let out a shivering groan in reply as he grasped the sheets next to Larsa's head and locked his arms to keep himself from falling over. Larsa bit his lower lip beneath him.
"Don't.." Larsa leaned over and kissed along Larsa's jaw. "I want to hear you."
Gabranth leaned in, thrusting deeply. Every thust was slow, deep, and precise. Larsa was beside himself, stars were dancing beneath his closed lids as thrust after thrust ignited a fire within him which threatened to consume him body and soul. He scarcely had time to recover from one explosion before another one tore through him. He could do nothing but cling helplessly to Gabranth, his shield, his protector, his lover, his life.
"Let me hear you." Gabranth commanded in a low, husky tone.
Larsa winced in pleasure and parted his lips before a shuddering moan escaped him.
"Gods... yes, that's it." The blonde was beyond all reaches of propriety, there was only this and now—the young lord crying out his name as he claimed him. "Cry out for me, Larsa."
Larsa's legs fell open and he arched into the thrusts, crying out. He threw his head back and groaned desperately. Soon his sharp cried were joined with Gabranth's low moans when Larsa ground his hips to meet the older man's thrusts.
Gabranth groaned breathlessly as he rocked against his lover harder, relishing Larsa's welcoming cries.
"Gabranth—Noah... please don't... don't stop." Larsa pleaded, Gabranth's real name slipping from his lips. "Gods please Noah—!"
Larsa's voice rose nearly an octave as his body began to tighten and tremble in warning. He cried out one last time before he arched his back completely and clamped down hard on Gabranth, his release spilling between their bodies. Gabranth growled harshly at the impossible tightness around him and nearly doubled over at its intensity. He gripped Larsa's thighs with bruising force as he finally released into his lover's velvet heat.
Larsa collapsed back unto the mattress, so dazed that he hardly recognized the weight that pressed on top of him. Gabranth rolled off to one side and pulled the Solidor against his chest. Larsa did not protest, instead, he wrapped his own arms around the blonde's waist and pulled himself closer. Gabranth smiled through the haze in his mind and placed a light kiss on Larsa's forehead.
"So... this is making love." Larsa whispered softly, after catching his breath. Gabranth only held him tighter in response.
"Does this mean that... I am your wife now?" The Solidor looked up at Gabranth with such sincere eyes that the blonde could not help but break into a hearty laugh. Seeing that Larsa was serious, Gabranth laid back and looked at the canopy above them thoughtfully.
"Yes, I suppose this makes you... my wife."
Larsa sat up and looked down at Gabranth, a small frown on his swollen lips. "It isn't fair though, you have not asked me for my hand in marriage. It is highly improper."
The blonde's smile grew wider as he reached over to the night stand, fingers running over the thin chain which held his mother's wedding ring. He drew the small chain to him and watched as Larsa's frown deepened when he removed the ring from the chain.
"This was my mother's wedding ring..." Gabranth began as he rolled the small band in his fingers. "She always did believe that my brother would marry first. I suppose she was mistaken this time."
Larsa's eyes grew impossibly wide and his heart beat wildly in his chest as Gabranth gently slid the white gold ring unto his index finger. "You have a bit more growing up to do for you to wear it on the proper finger, but," Gabranth kissed Larsa deeply. "I wanted to give this to you now."
"Ask me properly, Gabranth." Larsa smiled as he ran his finger over the smooth surface of the ring.
The blonde sat up and held Larsa's face in his hands, blue eyes staring into equally blue ones. "Will you marry me, Larsa? Will you stay with me till death, love me as I love you... will you be with me always?"
Larsa flung his arms around Gabranth's neck and he cried into a strong shoulder. "I do, Gabranth. Till forever and a day... I shall love you as you love me. I will be with you always."
With the warmth of Larsa in his arms, fingers buried in the soft onyx hair, holding the young lord he knew so well yet did not know at all, a smile graced Gabranth's lips. Alone was no longer a word he associated with honor, for there was honor in finding the role he was meant to play. Gabranth knew at that moment that his long search was over; he was exactly where he was supposed to be.
In Larsa's embrace, Gabranth was finally home.
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THE END
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More shameless ripping from Game of Thrones!
Wow! I finally finished this piece of fiction! I am quite sad about it, but very proud of how it has progressed. There will be an Epilogue to this, so it's not quite the very end yet.
And no, please don't tell me Larsa was too young to do it—because I thought about having them do it five years later, but found it more improbable that they would NOT do it for five more years than do it a year post game.
I enjoyed writing this story immensely, and all your reviews have been an inspiration!
I really do hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.
With all my thanks,
Seph