Post by Katty on Dec 11, 2011 21:00:44 GMT 10
To: Cassandra
Message: Happy Holidays darling! I hope you have a wonderful holiday season with your loved ones, and are all ready and refreshed to kick butt (and go to college, omg) in 2012!!
Love: Katty
Title: Postcards between Friends and Lovers
Words: 1,200
Rating: PG-13
Wishlist Item: #1 - Kel/Wyldon/Jon/Raoul in any permutation - I tried ALL permutations, and eventually settled on one pairing. I hope you enjoy it!
Summary: Sometimes they are friends, and sometimes they are lovers, but most of the time they are both. Postcards of affection throughout the years.
“Kissing is not like I thought it would be,” Jonathan says. “It was very… wet.” He grins, blue eyes glinting mischievously. “That could just be Lady Adela though.”
Raoul blushes, because he is fifteen and yet to kiss any girls. In fact, he hasn’t even held hands with one; he has made a habit of avoiding them. “I wouldn’t know,” he admits, shrugging his wide shoulders.
Jonathan is surprised. “You haven’t been kissed?”
Raoul shakes his head.
“Well, that will have to change.” Jonathan says practically, and before Raoul can do anything, he feels Jonathan’s lips press against his own.
They slip out of the room, faces flushed and clothes askew. Jonathan tries to comb his hair with his fingers, cursing the lack of mirror. Raoul doesn’t even bother to fix himself.
Suddenly, as if summoned by Raoul’s desire to be alone with Jonathan, Gary appears. “Where have you been?” he asks, “I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”
Raoul’s mind goes blank, searching for an excuse.
Luckily, Jonathan is better at this than him. “Wrestling practice,” he says smoothly. “Raoul was giving me some pointers.”
Gary grins. “Good, because you’re rubbish,” he says, and claps his cousin on the shoulder.
“Why is your bed so much softer than mine?” Raoul asks, stretching his long limbs out.
“It’s because I’m the Prince,” Jonathan says lazily. “They probably think I’ll go crazy and lop everyone’s heads off if I’ve had a bad nights sleep.”
Raoul rolls his eyes. “Are you sure its not from being worn out?” he says jokingly. “Too much traffic?”
Jonathan suddenly looks serious. “You don’t actually think that, do you?” he asks softly. “You’re the only one I’ve been with.”
Raoul is pleased but doesn’t know what to say, so he just reaches across and pulls Jonathan close.
Raoul hears Jonathan enter the room, but doesn’t get up. His grip on the wine glass is steady, and even though he watches the fire, all his can see is Jonathan disappearing into the gardens with Delia. When Jonathan places a hand on his shoulder, he pulls away.
“What’s wrong?” Jonathan asks.
Raoul fights to keep his voice steady. “I’m not some shirt you can take on and off when you feel like it,” he says. “If that is what you want, I’m not interested.”
Jonathan steps back, stung. “It’s not like that,” he protests, but they both know it is.
Things are different, after the Drell Valley. Raoul watches Jonathan and Alan, and recognizes those furtive glances and long disappearances. He also notices the empty space in his bed. He has heard that war changes a man, but he didn’t realise it could also change a man’s tastes.
Raoul likes to think it is probably the red hair, or maybe the temper. Perhaps it’s because Jonathan can kiss Alan without standing on his tiptoes; maybe he wanted to be the taller one for once.
Raoul knows deep down though that it is probably just because Jonathan grew tired of him.
When Jonathan comes back from the desert, Raoul is concerned. His friend spends his time flirting with the Copper Isles Princess and glaring at courtiers; he is completely silent on Alanna, so Raoul doesn’t pry.
Jonathan sulks for two weeks, until Raoul has had enough and invites him to spar in the practice courts. Surprisingly, Jonathan accepts, and they head to the empty courts.
Raoul thrashes him, but tries to be nice about it.
On the way out, Jonathan stops him. “Thank-you,” he says gratefully. “I needed that.” He pauses for a moment, and then leans forward and kisses Raoul.
“I’m King,” Jonathan says, and his voice sounds hollow. He puts the pen in his hand down. “It’s hard to comprehend, I guess.”
Raoul glances across at his friend. He and Gary are taking shifts looking after Jonathan, and it is his turn. “I know… I’m sorry,” he says awkwardly, not quite sure what to say.
“I’m alone,” Jonathan says. Raoul realizes that he’s never seen his Prince – no, King, he corrects himself – look so sad.
Raoul reaches across and takes Jonathan’s free hand. He gives it a small squeeze. “You’re never alone,” he reassures him. “I won’t leave you.”
They lay on the floor of Jonathan’s office, regaining their breath. “This can’t be permanent.” Jonathan says.
“I know.” Raoul swallows hard, realising this may be the final opportunity to share his feelings. “I love you,” he whispers, staring at the ceiling.
Jonathan’s hand brushes Raoul’s arm. “I love you too,” he replies. “I think I always have.”
“But you love the kingdom more,” Raoul says.
“I have to,” Jonathan responds. “Everything else, even my own desires, come second to that.”
“I understand.” Raoul sighs.
A quiet moment passes, and Jonathan sits up. “I need you to go to Maren.”
“You don’t have to stay,” Jonathan says wearily to Raoul. The knight is sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. “I know you’re exhausted.”
Raoul shakes his head. “I’m staying here,” he says stubbornly. “I have men at all the doors, but everyone I trust to guard you personally is resting or injured.” He smiles wryly. “It would very poor form for you to survive the attack at the Coronation today, only to be murdered in your bed tonight.”
Jonathan is silent. “I appreciate it,” he finally says. “You are one of the truest friends I have.”
Raoul rolls over in the bed to face Jonathan. “You’re getting married,” he says quietly. “I guess I forgot to congratulate you last night.” There is an edge to his voice, and he doesn’t care if the other man notices.
Jonathan is unapologetic. “You knew I’d marry eventually,” he says. “Thayet will make a good Queen”.
“Will she make you happy, though?” Raoul asks bluntly.
Jonathan colours. “She will be a good Queen. She will give me heirs. That will make me happy.”
“I knew you’d say that.” Raoul hauls himself out of bed. “As long as you’re happy, right?”
“What is this?”
Raoul sees Jonathan roll his eyes. “It’s a peerage,” the King explains, unfurling the heavy scroll. “I’ve granted you a holding of your own - Malorie’s Peak.”
Raoul is surprised. “What for?” he wants to know. “My birthday was last week.”
Jonathan ignores the comment. “Services to the Crown, and bravery,” he explains.
“That leaves more questions than it answers,” Raoul points out. “Is that code for something?” He grins, wondering for a moment what exactly he was being thanked for.
“That’s not funny,” Jonathan retorts, but Raoul sees the corners of his mouth quirk upwards anyway.
“Why am I the last person to know that you’re taking Keladry of Mindelan as your squire?” Jonathan snaps.
“I didn’t realise your permission was required.” Raoul says. “I needed one, and she has potential.”
“You are just trying to make a political statement,” Jonathan says accusingly. “You don’t know a thing about squires, particularly female ones.”
“And you know so much more?” Raoul retorts.
Jonathan gives him a dark look. “I had a female squire once,” he says. “Everyone forgets that.”
Raoul rolls his eyes. “Is that what this is about? I’m not going to sleep with her, Jon.”
Message: Happy Holidays darling! I hope you have a wonderful holiday season with your loved ones, and are all ready and refreshed to kick butt (and go to college, omg) in 2012!!
Love: Katty
Title: Postcards between Friends and Lovers
Words: 1,200
Rating: PG-13
Wishlist Item: #1 - Kel/Wyldon/Jon/Raoul in any permutation - I tried ALL permutations, and eventually settled on one pairing. I hope you enjoy it!
Summary: Sometimes they are friends, and sometimes they are lovers, but most of the time they are both. Postcards of affection throughout the years.
“Kissing is not like I thought it would be,” Jonathan says. “It was very… wet.” He grins, blue eyes glinting mischievously. “That could just be Lady Adela though.”
Raoul blushes, because he is fifteen and yet to kiss any girls. In fact, he hasn’t even held hands with one; he has made a habit of avoiding them. “I wouldn’t know,” he admits, shrugging his wide shoulders.
Jonathan is surprised. “You haven’t been kissed?”
Raoul shakes his head.
“Well, that will have to change.” Jonathan says practically, and before Raoul can do anything, he feels Jonathan’s lips press against his own.
- - -
They slip out of the room, faces flushed and clothes askew. Jonathan tries to comb his hair with his fingers, cursing the lack of mirror. Raoul doesn’t even bother to fix himself.
Suddenly, as if summoned by Raoul’s desire to be alone with Jonathan, Gary appears. “Where have you been?” he asks, “I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”
Raoul’s mind goes blank, searching for an excuse.
Luckily, Jonathan is better at this than him. “Wrestling practice,” he says smoothly. “Raoul was giving me some pointers.”
Gary grins. “Good, because you’re rubbish,” he says, and claps his cousin on the shoulder.
- - -
“Why is your bed so much softer than mine?” Raoul asks, stretching his long limbs out.
“It’s because I’m the Prince,” Jonathan says lazily. “They probably think I’ll go crazy and lop everyone’s heads off if I’ve had a bad nights sleep.”
Raoul rolls his eyes. “Are you sure its not from being worn out?” he says jokingly. “Too much traffic?”
Jonathan suddenly looks serious. “You don’t actually think that, do you?” he asks softly. “You’re the only one I’ve been with.”
Raoul is pleased but doesn’t know what to say, so he just reaches across and pulls Jonathan close.
- - -
Raoul hears Jonathan enter the room, but doesn’t get up. His grip on the wine glass is steady, and even though he watches the fire, all his can see is Jonathan disappearing into the gardens with Delia. When Jonathan places a hand on his shoulder, he pulls away.
“What’s wrong?” Jonathan asks.
Raoul fights to keep his voice steady. “I’m not some shirt you can take on and off when you feel like it,” he says. “If that is what you want, I’m not interested.”
Jonathan steps back, stung. “It’s not like that,” he protests, but they both know it is.
- - -
Things are different, after the Drell Valley. Raoul watches Jonathan and Alan, and recognizes those furtive glances and long disappearances. He also notices the empty space in his bed. He has heard that war changes a man, but he didn’t realise it could also change a man’s tastes.
Raoul likes to think it is probably the red hair, or maybe the temper. Perhaps it’s because Jonathan can kiss Alan without standing on his tiptoes; maybe he wanted to be the taller one for once.
Raoul knows deep down though that it is probably just because Jonathan grew tired of him.
- - -
When Jonathan comes back from the desert, Raoul is concerned. His friend spends his time flirting with the Copper Isles Princess and glaring at courtiers; he is completely silent on Alanna, so Raoul doesn’t pry.
Jonathan sulks for two weeks, until Raoul has had enough and invites him to spar in the practice courts. Surprisingly, Jonathan accepts, and they head to the empty courts.
Raoul thrashes him, but tries to be nice about it.
On the way out, Jonathan stops him. “Thank-you,” he says gratefully. “I needed that.” He pauses for a moment, and then leans forward and kisses Raoul.
- - -
“I’m King,” Jonathan says, and his voice sounds hollow. He puts the pen in his hand down. “It’s hard to comprehend, I guess.”
Raoul glances across at his friend. He and Gary are taking shifts looking after Jonathan, and it is his turn. “I know… I’m sorry,” he says awkwardly, not quite sure what to say.
“I’m alone,” Jonathan says. Raoul realizes that he’s never seen his Prince – no, King, he corrects himself – look so sad.
Raoul reaches across and takes Jonathan’s free hand. He gives it a small squeeze. “You’re never alone,” he reassures him. “I won’t leave you.”
- - -
They lay on the floor of Jonathan’s office, regaining their breath. “This can’t be permanent.” Jonathan says.
“I know.” Raoul swallows hard, realising this may be the final opportunity to share his feelings. “I love you,” he whispers, staring at the ceiling.
Jonathan’s hand brushes Raoul’s arm. “I love you too,” he replies. “I think I always have.”
“But you love the kingdom more,” Raoul says.
“I have to,” Jonathan responds. “Everything else, even my own desires, come second to that.”
“I understand.” Raoul sighs.
A quiet moment passes, and Jonathan sits up. “I need you to go to Maren.”
- - -
“You don’t have to stay,” Jonathan says wearily to Raoul. The knight is sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. “I know you’re exhausted.”
Raoul shakes his head. “I’m staying here,” he says stubbornly. “I have men at all the doors, but everyone I trust to guard you personally is resting or injured.” He smiles wryly. “It would very poor form for you to survive the attack at the Coronation today, only to be murdered in your bed tonight.”
Jonathan is silent. “I appreciate it,” he finally says. “You are one of the truest friends I have.”
- - -
Raoul rolls over in the bed to face Jonathan. “You’re getting married,” he says quietly. “I guess I forgot to congratulate you last night.” There is an edge to his voice, and he doesn’t care if the other man notices.
Jonathan is unapologetic. “You knew I’d marry eventually,” he says. “Thayet will make a good Queen”.
“Will she make you happy, though?” Raoul asks bluntly.
Jonathan colours. “She will be a good Queen. She will give me heirs. That will make me happy.”
“I knew you’d say that.” Raoul hauls himself out of bed. “As long as you’re happy, right?”
- - -
“What is this?”
Raoul sees Jonathan roll his eyes. “It’s a peerage,” the King explains, unfurling the heavy scroll. “I’ve granted you a holding of your own - Malorie’s Peak.”
Raoul is surprised. “What for?” he wants to know. “My birthday was last week.”
Jonathan ignores the comment. “Services to the Crown, and bravery,” he explains.
“That leaves more questions than it answers,” Raoul points out. “Is that code for something?” He grins, wondering for a moment what exactly he was being thanked for.
“That’s not funny,” Jonathan retorts, but Raoul sees the corners of his mouth quirk upwards anyway.
- - -
“Why am I the last person to know that you’re taking Keladry of Mindelan as your squire?” Jonathan snaps.
“I didn’t realise your permission was required.” Raoul says. “I needed one, and she has potential.”
“You are just trying to make a political statement,” Jonathan says accusingly. “You don’t know a thing about squires, particularly female ones.”
“And you know so much more?” Raoul retorts.
Jonathan gives him a dark look. “I had a female squire once,” he says. “Everyone forgets that.”
Raoul rolls his eyes. “Is that what this is about? I’m not going to sleep with her, Jon.”