Post by devilinthedetails on Nov 12, 2018 14:02:36 GMT 10
Title: Midwinter Luck
Rating: PG-13 for some sexual content
Prompt: Mistletoe
Summary: Roald, Shinko, and the mistletoe that brings them closer year after year.
Midwinter Luck
Vulgar Custom
“The Tortallans have a most delightful Midwinter custom.” Yuki’s eyes crinkled in a chuckle Shinko could see reflected in her mirror as Yuki deftly twisted her long black hair into an Eastern style. “The young men catch you beneath a mistletoe, kissing you and wishing you Midwinter luck.”
“We won’t ask how you learned of this custom that sounds more vulgar than delightful.” Haname’s sharp tone was muffled by the mahogany of the wardrobe where she rifled for an Eastern gown for Shinko to wear for the evening’s festivities.
“Good. Then I won’t have to explain how I discovered a certain Nealan of Queenscove is a marvelously passionate kisser.” The wicked spark in Yuki eyes continued to shine, undaunted by Haname’s pointed remark, as Yuki pinned Shinko’s hair into a simple yet elegant fashion popularized by Shinko’s future mother-in-law. “Of course you’d find any kissing with men vulgar as women are more to your taste, a custom the Tortallans ironically deem most vulgar.”
“That only proves how barbaric these Tortallans are.” Haughtily—because a proper Yamani considered anyone so ill-fated as to be born outside the Yamani Islands to be irredeemably barbaric—Haname emerged from the wardrobe with a rustle of the satin gown she had selected for Shinko.
“We mustn’t call our hosts barbarians, Lady Haname,” Shinko corrected Haname absently, her mind mulling over whether the Tortallan mistletoe tradition sounded more delightful or vulgar to her. “It’s not gracious of their hospitality.”
“Yes, Your Imperial Highness.” Haname bowed in graceful acceptance of the reprimand as only someone who was a product of centuries of careful breeding could. “Please forgive your unworthy servant her transgression against our hosts.”
Shinko inclined her head in polite acknowledgement of Haname’s apology even as her brain boiled with questions about whether her prince would attempt to kiss her beneath a mistletoe and whether she wanted him to try.
Touch of Fingertips
“Mistletoe,” Roald murmured to Shinko, tilting his chin toward the mistletoe hovering above their heads as they danced below it in the thronging ballroom. “We have a tradition regarding mistletoe in Tortall.”
When Roald trailed off, Shinko stated, delicately sidestepping how Yuki had acquired knowledge of this strange Tortallan custom, “Lady Yukimi mentioned it to me, Your Highness.”
“Doubtlessly you would believe me vulgar if I dared to partake of such a custom with you.” Roald’s cheeks flamed underneath his coal hair.
“I could never think my lord prince vulgar.” Shinko’s gaze sank demurely to the tiles of the dance floor. Nobody, not even the scowling Prince Eitaro or the prim Haname, could accuse the heir to the Tortallan throne of vulgarity. He was the portrait of courtesy by Tortallan standards, the ones Shinko was now expected to embrace as Prince Roald’s betrothed.
The flushing Roald seemed to take this as encouragement for he clasped her fingers between his and lifted them to his lips. The brush of his mouth against her gloved skin was so whisper-light that she wouldn’t have felt it if she hadn’t seen it.
“Your Highness looks beautiful tonight.” Roald spoke soft and slow as if she were a bird that might fly from the slightest sound in the woods. “Midwinter luck.”
“Midwinter luck, Your Highness,” Shinko echoed his well-wish, praying to Yama that he wouldn’t notice her fingers or voice shaking.
Peck on the Cheek
“Mistletoe.” The next Midwinter as they stepped into the palace corridor, leaving the party in Kel’s room arm in arm and holly-cheeked with the merry exertion of singing holiday tunes, it was Shinko who pointed out the prickly green decoration hung by some industrious servant.
“A prince should honor the traditions of his realm.” Roald’s words were somber but the lingering glance he fixed upon her made her feel naked despite the dress she wore.
“Honor tradition then, Your Highness.” Shinko spun her blushing cheek toward him, an invitation to intimacy, not a rejection of affection that she was confident Roald was attuned enough to her to understand.
“Midwinter luck to my beautiful betrothed.” Roald leaned close to peck her cheek gently, and the heat of his lips against her bare flesh made the cold corridor suddenly stifling.
Kiss on the Lips
“Mistletoe,” Roald proclaimed proudly on their first Midwinter as a married couple, indicating the mistletoe he had just strewn from their parlor ceiling.
Her eyes smiling at him, Shinko stepped forward to meet him beneath the mistletoe. When he moved his lips to peck her on the cheek, Shinko lifted her hand to cup his chin, guiding his mouth to hers. “I believe the true Tortallan mistletoe tradition is for the man to kiss his wife on the lips, my dear.”
“I will never complain about a custom that allows me to kiss your lips.” Roald’s mouth teased Shinko’s, growing from tender to ardent. “Midwinter luck to my loving wife.”
Desire Revealed
“Mistletoe.” Roald’s gaze gleamed in the candlelight of their bedchamber as he jerked his chin at the mistletoe with which Shinko had taken the liberty of decking their bed’s headboard. “It reveals your desire.”
“My desire for what, darling?” Shinko batted her eyelashes at him, putting all the innocence she didn’t feel into her tone.
“For kisses.” Roald kissed her mouth with first his lips and then his darting tongue. He didn’t stop there, lavishing her neck and shoulders with streams of kisses soft as they were seductive.
Rating: PG-13 for some sexual content
Prompt: Mistletoe
Summary: Roald, Shinko, and the mistletoe that brings them closer year after year.
Midwinter Luck
Vulgar Custom
“The Tortallans have a most delightful Midwinter custom.” Yuki’s eyes crinkled in a chuckle Shinko could see reflected in her mirror as Yuki deftly twisted her long black hair into an Eastern style. “The young men catch you beneath a mistletoe, kissing you and wishing you Midwinter luck.”
“We won’t ask how you learned of this custom that sounds more vulgar than delightful.” Haname’s sharp tone was muffled by the mahogany of the wardrobe where she rifled for an Eastern gown for Shinko to wear for the evening’s festivities.
“Good. Then I won’t have to explain how I discovered a certain Nealan of Queenscove is a marvelously passionate kisser.” The wicked spark in Yuki eyes continued to shine, undaunted by Haname’s pointed remark, as Yuki pinned Shinko’s hair into a simple yet elegant fashion popularized by Shinko’s future mother-in-law. “Of course you’d find any kissing with men vulgar as women are more to your taste, a custom the Tortallans ironically deem most vulgar.”
“That only proves how barbaric these Tortallans are.” Haughtily—because a proper Yamani considered anyone so ill-fated as to be born outside the Yamani Islands to be irredeemably barbaric—Haname emerged from the wardrobe with a rustle of the satin gown she had selected for Shinko.
“We mustn’t call our hosts barbarians, Lady Haname,” Shinko corrected Haname absently, her mind mulling over whether the Tortallan mistletoe tradition sounded more delightful or vulgar to her. “It’s not gracious of their hospitality.”
“Yes, Your Imperial Highness.” Haname bowed in graceful acceptance of the reprimand as only someone who was a product of centuries of careful breeding could. “Please forgive your unworthy servant her transgression against our hosts.”
Shinko inclined her head in polite acknowledgement of Haname’s apology even as her brain boiled with questions about whether her prince would attempt to kiss her beneath a mistletoe and whether she wanted him to try.
Touch of Fingertips
“Mistletoe,” Roald murmured to Shinko, tilting his chin toward the mistletoe hovering above their heads as they danced below it in the thronging ballroom. “We have a tradition regarding mistletoe in Tortall.”
When Roald trailed off, Shinko stated, delicately sidestepping how Yuki had acquired knowledge of this strange Tortallan custom, “Lady Yukimi mentioned it to me, Your Highness.”
“Doubtlessly you would believe me vulgar if I dared to partake of such a custom with you.” Roald’s cheeks flamed underneath his coal hair.
“I could never think my lord prince vulgar.” Shinko’s gaze sank demurely to the tiles of the dance floor. Nobody, not even the scowling Prince Eitaro or the prim Haname, could accuse the heir to the Tortallan throne of vulgarity. He was the portrait of courtesy by Tortallan standards, the ones Shinko was now expected to embrace as Prince Roald’s betrothed.
The flushing Roald seemed to take this as encouragement for he clasped her fingers between his and lifted them to his lips. The brush of his mouth against her gloved skin was so whisper-light that she wouldn’t have felt it if she hadn’t seen it.
“Your Highness looks beautiful tonight.” Roald spoke soft and slow as if she were a bird that might fly from the slightest sound in the woods. “Midwinter luck.”
“Midwinter luck, Your Highness,” Shinko echoed his well-wish, praying to Yama that he wouldn’t notice her fingers or voice shaking.
Peck on the Cheek
“Mistletoe.” The next Midwinter as they stepped into the palace corridor, leaving the party in Kel’s room arm in arm and holly-cheeked with the merry exertion of singing holiday tunes, it was Shinko who pointed out the prickly green decoration hung by some industrious servant.
“A prince should honor the traditions of his realm.” Roald’s words were somber but the lingering glance he fixed upon her made her feel naked despite the dress she wore.
“Honor tradition then, Your Highness.” Shinko spun her blushing cheek toward him, an invitation to intimacy, not a rejection of affection that she was confident Roald was attuned enough to her to understand.
“Midwinter luck to my beautiful betrothed.” Roald leaned close to peck her cheek gently, and the heat of his lips against her bare flesh made the cold corridor suddenly stifling.
Kiss on the Lips
“Mistletoe,” Roald proclaimed proudly on their first Midwinter as a married couple, indicating the mistletoe he had just strewn from their parlor ceiling.
Her eyes smiling at him, Shinko stepped forward to meet him beneath the mistletoe. When he moved his lips to peck her on the cheek, Shinko lifted her hand to cup his chin, guiding his mouth to hers. “I believe the true Tortallan mistletoe tradition is for the man to kiss his wife on the lips, my dear.”
“I will never complain about a custom that allows me to kiss your lips.” Roald’s mouth teased Shinko’s, growing from tender to ardent. “Midwinter luck to my loving wife.”
Desire Revealed
“Mistletoe.” Roald’s gaze gleamed in the candlelight of their bedchamber as he jerked his chin at the mistletoe with which Shinko had taken the liberty of decking their bed’s headboard. “It reveals your desire.”
“My desire for what, darling?” Shinko batted her eyelashes at him, putting all the innocence she didn’t feel into her tone.
“For kisses.” Roald kissed her mouth with first his lips and then his darting tongue. He didn’t stop there, lavishing her neck and shoulders with streams of kisses soft as they were seductive.
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!