nathanialroyale: (Arwen)
Title: Loving this way
Prompt: Jealousy
Rating: (Pg-13)
Content Notes: These two, oh these two. They love each other so dearly, so deeply but they just have to let go.
Inspired by Collin Raye's Loving this Way. The story Please Don't Leave Me comes before this.

Warnings: None
Main Character/s: Mallie Quele, Kallion ap'Eibhlhin
Plot: Love and a relationship left behind.
Location: Dire Cry Castle

--

“I...I think we should start seeing other people Kallion.”

The words held a weight that even with the knowledge they were coming still made shoulders sag and throat go dry.

“I’m...not what you want, I’m not what you need,” the words were soft, tired and hurt, and Kallion starred at Mallie as her hands wrung.

“That’s not true,” Kallion responded with immediately larger hands taking up hers and she shook her head, thick black curls falling into her face.

“I don’t want to love like this anymore, I’ve tried, we’ve tried...Can...We still be friends?” It was asking too much she knew but earnest green eyes looked through curls at the man she had loved sense she had been a child.

Story Inside )
nathanialroyale: (Masquerade)

Title: Almost.
Prompt: Injury
Rating: (R)
Content Notes/Warnings: First Sex scene ever. Timeline is prior to Novels. I am very pleased with this piece, I haven't been so personally pleased with a piece of my own writing in a very long time.

Warnings: Mentions of Past Abuse and injuries, Sex scene.

Main Character/s: Drefan Robert Royale, Lawrence
Plot: Drefan can almost forget...almost.
Location: Lawrence’s farmstead in Royale

--

Lawrence’s thumb brushed the choke-hold, the rope marks that encircled my throat and he said no worries, though with Lawrence this was a simple habit of his silence. I enjoyed the peace, the calm that came with him, and my chin dipped up toward the ceiling in my own silence giving him permission to touch as he willed. No one else had that trust, not yet, only Lawrence and Thom could brush my skin with bare fingertips causing gentle shivers down my spine. But it was Lawrence that could go further, and I opened my lips for him when he leaned in to kiss me with a gentleness that I had not known before I had first let this man in. Tenderness and gentleness were not simple words to me, they were somewhat of a mystery, one unraveled by the only friend I had, a farmer’s boy who had stood at my back during a bar brawl.

Not the way I would have thought to meet anyone that I could get this close to, but I know looking back and forward, you have to worm your way in. I’m not out to make friends, to allow people to see inside of me, and Lawrence fought at my back with fists, untrained but with upper body strength only a farmer would have. It was in itself a long road to this point, communication, touch, and trust, but it brought us to this and Lawrence leaned his weight against my body, enough that I could feel the heat of his chest. Dark brown eyes were intent on my face as we broke for breath, but I had always appreciated that with me, he did not try to hold eye contact. It was a norm in our culture to look the other in the eye at all times, but with the knowing of each other it seemed he could tell it was not something I would do during this.

More Written Inside )

A tanned hand slid up over the white cloth of my shirt, and the other tugged out from pants so it could touch skin causing me again to shiver. I did meet his eyes for a small time, my usual midnight blues lighter and his browns darker. A smile was the reply to my action and he leaned his forehead against my own, his black dreadlocks falling around his shoulders, laying partially over mine. This path had been taken more than a few times, nights of drinking to forget about the scars and hates, but those nights weren’t so gentle. At first I thought he let me do it because of my position but I had to remind myself back then that I had not told him I was prince, that I had wanted one man not to kiss my ass and shine my boots for nothing more than a penance. And in confusion I had to go off on my own to reconcile with how this man could trust me when he did not even know my name. I could never do such a thing, but I know I’m repressed, I know my childhood was damaging and that even with all the bravado there’s something seething inside.

He knows too. Lips brush my nose and then they move up, feathers over my furrowed brow and his hand moves from bare stomach to tangle in my blonde hair, dipping me forward so he could press a kiss to the top of my head. Never any words, for some reason with him they just weren’t needed, Lawrence was a man who did not waste his breath on un-needed frivolities. I had no need to put up the front, to wage the diplomatic war of words, and that took years off of me, allowing me to look into the mirror and realize that I was only sixteen.

Lawrence’s cheek rested against my forehead, an arm of mine looping about his waist and tucked as I was against the hollow of his throat, feeling the up and down of his Adam’s apple the words rose to a whisper.

“I’m not a virgin.”

There was no reaction, and my own Adam’s apple bobbed with sudden nerves and I knew that voice inside. I would not let that voice tell me I should not have spoke the words, that voice of cynicism and rage, a voice that wore my father’s face.

Time was too slow in seconds like these before he pulled away so his dark brown eyes looked back to my face, not right into my eyes but at my face.

“You spoke you had never had a relationship,” the words were not accusatory; they were confused, asking for relief and explanation.

“I haven’t...” I answered and I leaned my head back against the wall of his bedroom where he lived with his parents, no longer did I keep secret that I was royalty, he knew, and so did they.

“But I’m not a virgin.”

Eyes trailed back to the rope burns I left exposed by the position of my head and the line of my throat. Lawrence stayed silent again, starring at the marks with his intense gaze, and I shivered but this time not because of his touch. With my reaction he took up my hand with his own, eyes intent on the rope burns around my wrist that matched the throat. Turning my wrist he bent, dreads cascading about to cover his face again as he brought my hand the last distance to his lips. A kiss pressed against my knuckles, “We die too quick to live in the past,” the words breathed against skin, “We must make with what we can.”

Straightening his eyes found mine and continued speaking, “Then it is a matter of show, and of differences told. Re-learn, and push back the tides of your drowning.”

Lawrence never asked me how, why, when, where of the scars and my bitterness, he worshiped the inches of my skin as he walked me to his pallet. Every scar was examined with eyes and tasted with lips, but never was there words said. My shames and my frustrations were my own, and he understood this without even having to be told.

Settling down he pressed weight slowly onto me, and now I would meet his eyes, and I would keep the gaze, to tell myself of better things, of Lawrence and trust and nothing else. I held back the gasps that I could as his hand buried gently in my hair and he found a sensitive spot over left ribcage with his tongue and teeth. His desire was mimicking my own, and heated groans puffed past panting lungs as lower extremities contacted and ground. Extra time spent on those markings along my thighs and my hands gripped onto the pallet in my impatience, a growl pushed past my lips as he made me wait. Head up, tongue licking over his wet lips, I panted as Lawrence looked up at me, dark brown was so different from dark blue, and I made myself see the differences, not the similarities. His lips were coy at my impatience and it hit me hard again as it always had, Lawrence was fourteen. His body and his demeanor spoke of a man older then I, but that was how it happened in the fields of Royale, from the day you could walk you helped on the farm and you matured faster than the ilk of the upper-class. Brows furrowed down at him the smile grew and he dipped back and the Bastard! My voice nearly took a high pitched tone of puberty when his lips wrapped around my organ.

“Lawrence!”

He had never tried that before even when we were tossed by drink and it did not take long at all before I could think no further except on what he was doing. The pressure building into a ball in the pit of my stomach and his fingers taking sacks into hand was the last straw and I tugged two dreads trying to give some form of warning. Drawing back I let go and the orgasm shook through me as he lay by my side watching me as my eyes clenched shut. Fingers ran through my disheveled hair and my eyes opened to him, a brow going up at him as he still was as hard as ever.

Lawrence sat up on one elbow looking into my face and a thumb brushed my cheek, “I will show you differences,” and he moved to press against me again, weight settling between my spread legs.

It wasn’t easy finding something we could use to ease the way but he had kept the bottle of massage oil I had brought last time for this and it served for our purpose. I clenched him to me with an arm as he pressed into me, the other hand grasping at the pallet so I could call off my own defensive reactions to the searing burn. Kisses were pressed over my shoulders and one to my Adam’s apple, pants and shoulders rose and fell as Lawrence stayed still for me, the burning beginning to ease away. Growing hard again against his stomach he took it as the silent queue to begin to move and I fell back against the pallet, starring up at him.

Past words slither through my conscious, “There is no love found between two men, no love between two women, only carnal desire...” What the fuck would Robert know? Father’s a sick bastard who gets off on kinks and power trips, how the hell would he know about love? Even if this isn’t love, I don’t need it, Lawrence is my friend and that’s enough for me.

“Drefan,” Lawrence shuddered against chest as the heat had increased so that we were sweating and sliding against each other, my fingers digging into his black dreadlocks. My name on his lips, fuck love, this, this was enough for me.

And noises rose higher before they died, clutching each other, Lawrence resting most of his weight on me to get himself back from post orgasmic bless. He didn’t move still and I found I didn’t really mind, his fingers sliding through my hair as I felt the coarseness of his own. Watching the rise and fall of his shoulders and back against me, I grinned pressing a kiss to a sweaty tanned shoulder.

“That was nearly as good as going to the opium dens,” there was near laughter in my voice that never saw the light of day anywhere else but here.

A hard chuckle against me he looked up to me, “Almost.”

I rubbed his back with my palm and shrugged, starring up at the thatched ceiling wondering if it was worth the risk coming home smelling of Lawrence. I would do it to just get the prick in my face, to let him know again and again that he could do whatever the fuck he could get away with but I’m not his. But it wasn’t worth the risk for Lawrence’s sake, but I did want to go home smelling of another man just to piss Father off to high heaven, “I’m going mad,” I whispered to no-one in particular.

“But I knew it would happen,” I continued, the words rang with emotion, bitterness and sadness, and Lawrence kissed my brow again holding my face in his hands.

“I will pray to Nanqa every night, I will pray that he will look out for you, you who are of his bloodline. I am certain our Lord would help in any way he can.”

Giving Lawrence a quick but deep kiss, “I know, he does what he can,” and lay my head back down.

“Stay?” Lawrence’s head on my chest, I closed my eyes, “Yes.”

I’m going mad, I knew it would happen, slow and steady, the pieces chip, pieces fall and my mind builds up fortifications. Is it worth the risk to Lawrence to be his friend? Were both going to get burned, but if I were to walk away right now the prick would win, and I won’t let Father win, Lawrence is strong, he’ll handle himself. To have nights like this filled with passion, to drink and laugh, to fall asleep beside each other high and feeling no pain from the opium. I’m going mad and I just don’t care, I’ll live in the moment as they come, love or no, it doesn’t matter. Protect Thom, protect my people, fight that prick at any turn, I’ll make it worth it all in the end. In the end.

nathanialroyale: (Denzel)
Title: Let Darkness Free the Light.
Prompt: Free Space
Rating: (PG)
Content Notes/Warnings: The Battle for Tuima, the gathering of the force that under the General Lianna Ebonheart would have part in saving illander, the Holy City.

Warnings: Violence.

Main Character/s: Lianna EbonHeart
Plot: The Seige of Tuima and the gathering of an army.
Location: Tuima, Capitol city of Royale.


--

My father’s country.

I knew nothing about Royale except the rumors and lies spread by the Gaelians, that the Royalians were dark haired and darker skinned, golden like those in the north who lived beneath the harsh sun. They were a people who speak a foreign tongue, ugly on the ears, and they worshiped Nanqa God of Darkness, Undead and Chaos; it even being said they sacrificed their children to this dire deity. Some of this could be true, but much of it was hogwash, after all, my mother’s people were spit upon by the Gaelians as well. That’s me; born of a Royalian man and a Daranigh woman, less than the trash that littered the Holy city’s alleyways. But we, the Daranigh do not give up on our own; they had looked at me oddly when they first were introduced to my father. But hands were held out and taken, shaken and there was a call for ale, the hated banded together.

And that is why I am doing this, that is why I am spurring my horse on all the faster over destroyed farmland. The hated band together. I was not going to allow my father’s people to perish without a fight, I know little of them, but I am willing to learn. Father had attempted to teach me their speech, and though it is broken coming from my lips I would damn well try! There was one thing I did know, and that unlike the Gaelians, the Royalians respected their women, knew of their strengths. I would harness this; I had no formal training, a woman getting sword training and being taught to lead men in battle? No, not in illander, humans counted more the organ between their legs then the passion beneath the skin. Father taught me all that he could with a blade and my mother through connections had me learn how to ride like a man by the Daranigh who worked in the Royal stables.

Story Inside! )
nathanialroyale: (Heart)
Title: Years End Wishes
Prompt: Costumes
Rating: (PG)
Content Notes/Warnings:

Sjel Nn’harma is the God of Death, Souls and the Afterlife.

Warnings: None

Main Character/s: Sir. Raphael Lécuyer, Nathanial Peter Quele Royale
Plot: It is the Years End Masked Ball, the King asks a favor of his King’s Guard to pull off the ruse.
Location: illander castle, illander city.


--


Raphael drew the brush through the golden blonde hair one last time, standing behind, setting the brush down his white linen gloved hands lay on small shoulders.

“You are certain?”

“Oui, Raphael this could be the only time I may be able to do this...”

Raphael let go and moved to the side, on one knee he knelt beside his King looking into the vanity mirror. There was no denying that Nathanial could pull off the ruse, the Half Elven boy had always been feminine and now with the God Sjel Nn’harma housed within his form he had stopped aging. Until the day he died he would forever remain physically thirteen.


Story Inside! )
nathanialroyale: (Dance)
Title: Love is never gentle, and Grief gives way to Hate.
Prompt: Grief
Rating: (Heavy PG-13)
Content Notes/Warnings: Ending of the First Novel, The Tragedy ends in a catastrophe and the scene that changed everything, for love can destroy far easier than it can create, and grief is but a precursor to hate.

Nathanial is of Reinn Anon (God of light's) blood line, Drefan and Thom are of Nanqa (God of darkness') bloodline. Naik'lea is the Goddess of Suffering.

Warnings: Death, Violence, Blood.

Main Character/s: Nathanial Peter Quele Royale, Thom Antsrev Royale, Drefan Robert Royale, Sir. Atrious
Plot: Drefan’s personification of his hopes and dreams dies, madness quickly follows, the Royal court is massacred and so begins the Age of Darkness.
Location: illander castle, illander city.


--


The Last Entry in the Journal

(There are small bloody fingerprints like those of a child on this entry, smeared by what looks to be the remnants of tears)



It is my tenth year.

And I am kneeling now by my beloved’s side, my husband sense the day of my birth, 6 years older then I and always smiling. Optimistic and sweet, kind and gentle, light among the darkness, he was my opposite Thom was. I was darkness born of a bloodline of light; he was light born of a bloodline of darkness. I am on the right side of the bed, Drefan on his left. There were chairs but that didn’t matter, we both knelt. We each held one of Thom’s hands in ours clasping the withered fingers, his body so gaunt now, and he coughed. He coughed blood. Like me. It was disease, Thom was dying of disease, and I knew, I knew it in my heart it was the disease Korian died of. Contagion, a necromantic spell that inflicts a disease on the target and the target had been Korian...So Thom was just a causality. He had to be, Drefan would never mean the death of his brother, I knew Thom was everything to the both of us.

Drefan’s hands grasp Thom’s left hand as tightly as I grasped Thom’s right and Drefan starred into the greying green orbs, so tired and nearly lost to us now. The infirmary in the castle was empty except for us, the clerics had cleared out, as there was nothing they could do for him now. They had left us to be with him in his final moments and I leaned down to Thom’s cheek and I nosed it. His eyes moved to me and I smiled for him and I whispered, “The Arch Angel Azreal will come and pick you up and bring you to a place where you can sleep for a long time. Where you won’t hurt anymore and you will have an easier time breathing.” I mimicked his voice as I relayed his words perfectly from my eidetic memory, of when Thom explained of death to me. It seemed so long ago, but it was only three years ago that I learned I would die young. And yet in the end, I lived as Thom died, was this a punishment for my sins?

More Writing Inside )
nathanialroyale: (Scream)

Title: Blood and Nature
Prompt: Hunger
Rating: (PG-13)
Content Notes/Warnings: 16 years after the novels, Joscelin has recently been crowned King and has been forced into an arranged marriage for Peace to marry Jay, a vampire from the north lands he despises. No Warnings.

Vampires in my novels were originally created from torturing elves in hell for many centuries, the older vampires too strong to go on remained as spirits. These spirits can inhabit people’s bodies turning them into vampires, but the bloodlines also continued like a blood disease from the eldest. Because vampires were once elves they are hated in the very bone of most elf kind. Coupled with elvish immunity to infections and disease it makes it so that Elves cannot be turned into vampires. Elvish vampires are not 'supposed' to exist.

Main Character/s: Fa, Joscelin Quele Ante, Jay James Red Rose Quele Cross. Mentions of Nathanial Peter Quele Royale, Mentions of Damion Ante
Plot: After the novels, Joscelin an elf has recently been crowned King and has been forced in an arranged marriage for Peace to marry Jay, a vampire from the north lands he despises.
Location: illander Castle, Capitol of Camar'a.




Spinning the figure at arm’s length back to his body, Fa watched through the black and silver fringed mask. Did the young man realize who it was he danced with? Did the feel of another cold hand give memory to his dance partner of what he was?

Fa knew who it was he danced with, the masks were meant on this night to give an allure of mystery, but for some this was a useless endeavor. The one whose body was mere inches from his own was the newly crowned King Joscelin, son of the Boy-King Nathanial. The smell of the pine trees of his people and the soft undertone of rose soap alongside the leather of his usual ranger outfit was telltale. He knew with whom he danced, but did this young Elfling?

 



nathanialroyale: (Nathan)
Title: Prophetic Roads
Prompt: Reunion
Rating: (R?)
Content Notes/Warnings: 5 years sense Nathanial had seen his sister, something’s have changed. ~Blah.~ is telepathy.
Warnings: Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Under Age Love, Mentions of Cannibalism. Mentions of past Child Abuse, Mentions of past Torture.

Main Character/s:
Nathanial Peter Quele Royale, Nilec Quele, Elhannan ap’Eibhlhin, Mentions of James Red Rose Quele Cross.
Plot: 5 years sense Nathanial had seen his sister, something’s have changed.
Location: The Palace of Dire Cry City in the Kingdom of Dire Cry.



Dire Cry had always been a wasteland of rock and sand as far back as Nathanial had read of it. The land had been where Cama’ra exiled their treasonous, murderers and rapists in a wish to not execute. A harsh land, a terrible people, and the mountains had been sealed long ago by the Gods to separate the Kingdoms. But over five hundred years ago the mountain pass had re-opened; somehow the people had managed to stake out a living upon nothing and were harsher now than they ever were before.

Wars had raged over water, tribes killing each other for the oasis’s that were so sacred in a land that hardly ever rained. Peace had been brokered many times but to no avail, war continued, and the tribes had finally been united under the strongest. The strongest ruled, as soon as the last King was weak another would kill him and take his place. It was near anarchy, rarely lasted longer than five years but James had managed to hold on with an iron fist for that long now. No human was stronger than a vampire and with his Druidic wife watching his body as he slept the daylight hours away they were unstoppable. Elf and Vampire married and ruling over humans, it was unthinkable but Nilec had succeeded as she had told him she would when he was small.

The land was dying though; Nathanial could feel it beneath his leather booted feet as he walked through the Capitol. The land was wasting, the people were desperate, Elhannan was sucking in breath through his teeth, his red feathered wings ruffling as he steered his eyes away from alleyways.

Story Inside! )
nathanialroyale: (Masquerade)
Title: Moving on.
Prompt: Depression
Rating: (PG)
Content Notes/Warnings: Follows after When I die lay your head down but move on... 8 years after the novel’s ending.
Warnings: Mentions of Past M-Preg, Past Character Death, Past Under-age Love.

Main Character/s: Damion Ante, Joscelin Quele Ante, mentions of Nathanial Peter Quele Royale
Plot: 8 years after Nathanial’s death, Damion still tries to move on.
Location: illander Castle, Capitol of Camar'a.


“Watch me Papa!”

The untroubled laughter was pure, Damion’s lips curving into a smile as he settled against the wall of the training room. Joscelin always forgot he was blind, but that was due to the old vampire’s ability to still see the blood inside of living creatures, people at the least he could see. Watching through the blood sight his son take the steps and twirl into the air coming down and landing as far as he could tell with limited sight, perfectly.

“You have been training very hard my son,” Damion grinned in the direction of the young form that was wiggling on the spot from the praise.

More Story Inside )
nathanialroyale: (Nathan)
Title: Duties.
Prompt: Spooning
Rating: (PG)
Content Notes/Warnings: Another bad night, the King just cannot sleep. His Knight tries to help. No Warnings.

Main Character/s: Sir. Raphael Lécuyer, Nathanial Peter Quele Royale
Plot: The War has been won, the fighting is over. But the sickness remains and the King is restless in his sleep.
Location: illander Castle, Capitol of Camar'a.



Standing at the window, Raphael let his eyes close, feeling the spring wind, cooler at night, his hands grasping the sill. Uneven breathing, soft coughs even in rest; the Knight could do nothing for the ailment of his King. The breeze moved his blonde hair and he blew at it to remove it from his vision, Tin Du’hil’s shinning face illuminating the gardens in the night. Sila Vor’s children twinkled in the night sky and Raphael felt a sense of peace he had not felt in many years.


More Story Inside. )
nathanialroyale: (Nathan)
Title: When I Die...Lay Your Head Down, But Go On
Prompt: Crying
Rating: (PG-13)
Content Notes/Warnings:First Person p.o.v. This is actually the last scene from my novels, the death of my young protagonist. However this is from Nathanial's p.o.v in the books, so I thought to do the opposite by doing Damion's for this short fic.
Character Death, Under age love.

Main Character/s: Damion Ante, Nathanial Peter Quele Royale

Plot: Nathanial as Destined two days after his 16th birthday is to die.

Location: The Gardens of illander Castle, Capitol of Camar'a.
 

---


"Promise me, Swear to me, no-no one will mourn, no one will cry when I die. Sa-say it! Pl-please!"

"I...promise...my angel..."


Story Inside )

Profile

nathanialroyale: (Default)
nathanialroyale

June 2017

S M T W T F S
    12 3
45678910
11121314151617
18192021222324
252627282930 

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags