A Prince's Pride

*Aaron*

Immediately after we leave the Small Council chamber, I lace my fingers through Milo’s and start pulling him through the corridors of the palace. When we get to our room and shut the door, Oswald and Exavier on the other side, I pull him into a hug, enveloping him with my arms.

He nuzzles his face into my shoulder and we stand there for a solid minute, just holding one another.

“I almost lost you,” he says quietly.

“I know,” I say, running my hand over the back of his head. “But you didn’t. I’m right here.”

He looks up at me and I kiss him. It’s our first kiss since we’ve been married and it feels…different somehow. It feels like pure adrenaline. Like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down, and Milo is holding me up. A rush so pure, it drives me crazy.

“What are we going to do about the Red Hand?” asks Milo when we break apart.

“Milo,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I don’t want to talk about the Red Hand,” I peck his lips, “or the Lower Reach,” I peck them again, “or Piper Dylan.”

“But we—”I push my mouth onto his, silencing his words.

“Milo,” I say when we break apart, “we’ve been married for hours. I just want to make love to my husband.”

His face lights up and I swear I can see starts twinkling in those hazel eyes. Green, but with streaks of brown-orange, like sunlight cascading through evergreens in the forest.

“Say that again,” he says with a smile.

“My husband,” I say and can’t help the smile that spreads across my own lips when his widens.

We kiss again and his hand goes under the hem of my shirt, running up my back. His fingers rake against the skin, speaking of passion and desire. 

I reach down and grab the hem of his shirt and pull it up and off over his head. I look at him, knowing he sometimes feels inadequate next to my sculpted body, but I don’t care about that. He’s perfect and I love him more than anything.

I’m not sure when we took off the rest of our clothes but the next thing I know, we’re both naked and Milo has me pinned up against the wall, his tongue trying to dive down my throat. Our hard cocks are pressed up against each other’s bodies as our hands reach and grope any part they can.

Milo breaks away and looks at me, his eyes full of love and lust and hunger. He bites his lower lip seductively as he lowers his head to my neck and kisses gently, though it feels like fire. A moment later, he sinks his teeth in the skin. With a groan, I grip his back and pull him in closer to me.

He pulls away and starts kissing down my body, stopping at my nipple. His tongue flits across it and my nerves ignite, sending a shockwave straight to my cock, which bounces against Milo. He bites here, too, and gently grinds his teeth back and forth, sending a cascade of pleasure racing through my body. 

Next he kisses his way down my torso and runs his tongue over my abs, making them shiny with saliva. He’s teasing me, kissing every ab in turn instead of just taking my cock into his mouth.

Now on his knees, he looks up at me and, for a moment, I almost see Milo when I’d first met him. When he first touched me like this. It’s only been two years, but he looks older now. His facial features have filled in, his pointed nose less skinny, his almond-shaped eyes fuller. He’s let his sandy blonde hair grow out some, no longer short as he used to like.

When he grips my cock in his hand, I almost gasp. His hand is warmer than usual, probably from the friction of running across my body. Without meaning to, I buck in his hand, causing my cock to slide forward and pushing the head past the foreskin.

He pulls it the rest of the way back and kisses the head, still teasing me. I’m in no hurry, I’m going to let him have his way with me. He pushes my cock up and runs his tongue up along the side, looking up into my eyes all the while. When he reaches the head, he swirls his tongue over it just once before, without warning, he pulls me all the way into his throat.

My hands find his head and I weave his blonde hair through my fingers as he starts to bob back and forth, working my cock with expert precision. One hand jerks me in between the bobbing of his head, the other cups my balls. Every so often, he gives them a slight tug, and I let out an involuntary moan of pleasure.

He pulls me out of his mouth, but keeps jerking me as his lips move down to my ball sack. He sucks one into his mouth, his eyes never leaving mine. The hand not on my dick moves back into my crack, and rubs my hole there. I’m shuddering and gasping in pleasure as he works my cock, balls, and asshole at the same time.

“Gods, Milo,” I gasp. “What are you doing to me?”

He pulls back and smiles up at me, then puts his hands on either side of my hips and turns me. I know what he wants. I spread my legs and bend forward. His hands spread my ass cheeks apart and he spits, landing a hot glob of saliva right on my hole. I’m not sure why, but I find it extremely hot.

Not as hot as the next moment, when his tongue finds my hole. My shuddering renews as his tongue skates across the skin, setting my nerves into overdrive. My fingers grip the wall as my back arches downward. When Milo’s tongue penetrates my hole, I nearly moan out loud again. His tongue plunges in and out of my hole with every beat of my heart, sending a shock of pleasure through me with each thrust. I push my ass back into my husband’s face, wanting him to go deeper, though I know there’s a limit to that. Still, that doesn’t stop him from trying and succeeding at making me go crazy for him.

Reluctantly, I pull myself away from him.

“Let’s move to the bed,” I say, looking down at him. He looks disappointed, his chin covered in drool, as though he’d been interrupted during the best meal of his life. Still, I want to make him feel as good as he’s made me feel.

I pull him up by the hand and lead him to the bed, directing him to lie down. I clamber up over him in a sixty-nine position and immediately take his cock into my mouth. I hear a sigh escape him as I pull his cock all the way into my throat and bury my nose in his balls. I let out a gasp myself, his cock still in my throat, as two of his fingers slide into me. 

I start to work, sliding my throat up and down his cock as his fingers find my prostate and start to massage it. The way his fingers can send electric fire coursing through my very soul is magical. 

“Oh, fuck,” he says as I close my throat around his cock and pull back, “suck that cock, baby.”

I start going faster and harder, practically slamming my face into his pelvis as he moves his fingers in and out of me. At some point, a third joins. As he starts to pull his fingers out each time, he curls them, causing them to rake across my prostate and sending a nonstop flow of precum from my cock. I know it’s dripping onto his chest, great globs of it pushed out with every press of my magic button.

After a few minutes of this, he puts his hands on either side of my waist and pulls me back. Reluctantly, I leave his cock, but allow him to lay me beside him on my back. He scoops his arm up under my knees and pulls them up with my help. He positions himself below me, aiming his cock for my hole.

He’s looking into my eyes as though he’s looking deep inside me. Deeper than my heart. Deeper than my soul. As if he can see into the deepest part of my mind. He enters me, sliding his cock in slowly. As our bodies join, we fall into infinity. Our souls dance like autumn leaves in a gust of wind, more primal than nature, more beautiful than art. In that moment, with him nestled inside me, we are one being. One heart. One soul.

Milo begins to move his hips, thrusting in and out of me. I bend toward him and our lips meet. White hot fire and passion erupts between us and until this moment, I’ve never known the true meaning of the word ecstasy. 

He speeds up, pounding my ass with more force but so much more love. Our eyes never leave each others as he works my hole.

“Oh, Gods, Milo, you feel so amazing.”

“I love you,” he says.

“I love you, too.”

He decides to change position, pulling from me and pushing one leg so it’s over the other, spreading my cheeks wider for him. He gets into position on his knees and thrusts inside of me again, sending my eyes rolling into the back of my head. He thrusts a few times before pulling out all the way, then sliding back in, then pulling out all the way, and sliding back in. It feels so amazing, the way he works my hole.

I grab a pillow from behind me and put it under me as I turn onto my back and spread my legs for him. We’re moving through positions so fast, but I can’t help it. Something about us being married makes this feel like an entirely new experience. And I want to experience it all.

He immediately plunges into me and dives his head down so we kiss. He’s angled himself so his cock slams into my prostate with each thrust, milking me and causing precum to waterfall from my cock. I can feel it pooling in my bellybutton as he works, his balls slapping against my ass, his tongue wrestling with mine. I’ve wrapped my hands around his back and can’t help but grip him, digging my fingers into him.

It’s too soon, but I can’t help it. Milo makes me feel like nobody ever has. His cock hits my prostate and I feel an ecstatic current of ecstasy. My ass clenches around Milo’s cock and he lets out a gasp as my orgasm builds, like a tsunami about to crash onto a beach, into a crescendo, a full orchestra of beautiful music as my husband makes love to me and I explode between us, my cock blasting us both with thick ropes of hot cum.

Something about this brings a primal beast alive in Milo. He grips my hips and pulls me up, lifting my ass off the pillow. Only his hands, which feel stronger than ever, are holding me up. He starts to lay into me as he never as before, as though my hole has done him some grievance, and he’s determined to see it punished. My cock is still gushing as he pounds me, his cock pulverizing my prostate with each thrust.

I have to grab a pillow and push my face into it, to muffle my moans which I know are too loud, but Milo grabs it and throws it away. He grips my throat with one hand, somehow supporting me with just the other. I know I’m being too loud, that Oswald and Exavier can hear me, but I can’t help it. 

Milo’s looking into my soul and pounding my ass. I can’t see anything but him. I can’t hear anything but us. I can’t feel anything but the way his cock sends shockwave after shockwave rocketing through my body, threatening to launch me into space.

He groans as he thrusting becomes erratic. He slams into me one more time and brings his lips to mine as I feel his cock swell inside me. His lips pressed to mine, he gasps, shuddering against me. His orgasm is so strong, I feel its echoes in my own body as his cock unloads inside me, pumping into me a river of his love. 

He collapses on top of me, still inside me. Both of us are panting, unable to move. I feel as though my whole body has fallen asleep, pinpricks tingling along every inch.

“Holy fucking shit,” I say.

“Yeah,” Milo replies, “I know.”

He lays on top of me as we both breathe heavily, covered in sweat and cum. I’m vaguely aware of the blood still on my shoulder from the shard of glass in my neck, but I don’t care about that.

All I care about is the man laying on top of me.

My husband.

*Milo*

Two days later, Aaron and I enter the throne room and look around at the destruction and debris. Servants have been working to clean up the mess, but it seems they’ve barely made a dent with the large chunks of wall that still reside here. I look up at the dais and it looks so empty with the thrones gone. They’ve been moved to a large dining hall that is only used for banquets and will become the new throne room while this one gets cleaned up.

The city guards were able to find the trebuchet minutes after the bomb was launched and have already arrested those responsible. I look over and see Aaron staring at the dried pool of blood where he’d lain the night before. Though the stone has been scrubbed clean, the carpet is stained beyond repair. I walk over to him and lace my fingers through his.

“You do think we’re doing the right thing, don’t you?” he asks.

I don’t need to ask him to elaborate. Yesterday, he gave the order to use information extraction from every member of the Red Hand in our cells and to start executing them one by one if they fail to crack, or when they do. So far, just in the span of twenty-four hours since the order, ten of the Red Hand prisoners have already been executed. None of them gave us anything.

I don’t like the idea of us using torture, but I suppose it’s for the greater good. If we don’t figure out who’s guiding the Red Hand, we’ll never take them down. Aaron and I both agree that we need to take out their leaders to destabilize their organization.

“They can’t sit in the dungeons forever," I say reasonably. "They’re getting full. And every single one of them is a terrorist,” I say.

“The protester who spat on you wasn’t,” he says. Neither Aaron nor I had ordered her execution, but it still happened. She did assault a member of the Royal Family, but I think Dellrie’s decision to execute her was overkill, literally.

“Come on,” I say, pulling on his hand. “Piper is awake, remember? We need to see her.” He nods and allows me to pull him from the room. 

When we enter the new throne room, I look around. I’ve only been in this room once before, when we hosted Queen Allandra of the Southern Tribes. I think this room makes more sense for a throne room, though the windows overlook the Crown Wood, rather than the city. The walls are decorated with a regal purple wallpaper, inlaid with a pattern of swirling gold. A long carpet, matching the purple of the walls, extends from the door to a larger carpet, this one black, where the thrones now sit. Above us, three gigantic, crystalline chandeliers hang, pouring light over us all. 

Aaron and I let our hands fall as we walk along the carpet. Only the Small Council, Oswald, Exavier, Princess Riley, Aaron, and I are allowed to be in here while we talk to Piper.

Aaron and I walk up to the thrones, him to the gold with rubies, me to the silver with sapphires. My crown sits on the pillow soft cushion. I lift it and set it on my head. It is so much heavier than it looks. I suppose that old saying, “heavy is the head that wears the crown” is both literal and figurative.

I sit on the cushion and look towards the door. It feels weird to sit on Elaine’s throne, though I guess I should start calling it mine now. I look to Aaron, who’s placed his own crown on his head. The simple band of gold is encrusted in rubies, but it seems less regal than mine, somehow. Maybe it was designed that way, to impress with its simplicity, rather than seem elegant. 

Riley sits to my left, her silver band crown on her head. I start to feel odd about my crown being made of silver and me sitting on a silver throne. Traditionally, silver is the metal for female royalty. Is that how the citizens will see me? Not as a king, but as a stand in for a female monarch? 

The doors open and Riley stares daggers at the witch as Piper is led in by two Crown Guards. Riley was told only this morning about what happened at the Mission Inn. 

Piper looks awful. She’s paler than she was when I saw her right after the bomb and she can barely hold up her own weight.

“You wanted to see me, Your Majesties?” she asks in a dignified voice, though she sounds weak, as the two Crown Guards leave her before us before sweeping from the hall, shutting the door behind them. Oswald and Exavier stand on either side of her, their swords drawn.

“You have been brought before us to stand trial for using magic to force me to sleep with a woman on the night of my bachelor party,” says Aaron.

Piper looks absolutely stunned. I don’t know if she’s just a good actress or if she really didn’t know, but it’s convincing.

“Excuse me?!” she asks. “I didn’t do anything to you that night! The first time I’ve used magic in over two decades was to save your life.”

“You switched our cups. I didn’t remember until recently, but though they were similar, yours was made of brass. If you did not spell me, how do you explain what happened that night?” asks Aaron. Piper looks like this is an unfair question and I have to agree. 

“Your Majesty, I want magic made legal again. Why would I have used it to attack you? And what makes you think it was magic anyway?”

That’s a good point, actually, and it’s a thought I’ve had before. Piper had agreed that her magic would have proven, beyond reasonable doubt, that magic was real. Healing Aaron certainly did that. What happened at the Mission Inn could easily be reasoned away with the mention of drugs.

“I would have never done that under my own volition,” says Aaron, but I can hear the hesitancy in his voice. “And my drunken state was cured by whatever you slipped into my drink. Even my own Grand Physician said she has never seen such a thing.”

“There is magic that can do that, but again, I ask you: why would I have done that to you? What do I have to gain? You said my immunity would protect me from magic as long as it didn’t hurt anyone. If I used magic in an evil way against you, that would not have only been using magic to hurt someone, it have made you fear it, like your father.”

“You know,” says Dellrie, “she has a point, Your Majesty.”

“If you did not do it,” says Aaron, “is there a way you can tell what happened to me?”

I see Zelda stiffen at the mention of this and I can only assume it’s because she’s worried about Piper using magic on Aaron.

“No, my king. I would have needed to check you right after it happened. There is a way to detect if magic has been used on someone recently.”

“It must have been the barmaid!” exclaims Exavier. “She was the only one who had unfettered access to your drinks, Your Majesty.”

I think he must be right and when Aaron says, “Dellrie, I want the barmaid from that night brought to me at once!” I know he agrees. I wonder if we’ll be able to find her. So far, the guards haven’t found Olivia Rendara.

“I’ll see to it straight away, Your Majesty,” says Dellrie before sweeping from the room.

“So what’s going to happen to me, then?” asks Piper.

Aaron stares down at her. She truly had nothing to gain from using magic in that way against Aaron, and I know he sees that now. I wait, like everyone else, for his answer. In this moment, I can’t tell what he’s thinking.

“I believe you. You are free to go,” says Aaron. “You saved my life and I owe you a great debt. Allow me to repay it by offering you a position here. You can consult me on magic and help us prepare to defend against anyone who would use it against us.”

Everyone looks around at Aaron, even me. We hadn’t discussed this. True, Piper saved Aaron’s life, but I still don’t fully trust her.

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m going to have to decline,” says Piper. 

“You don’t want…” begins Aaron, but his words trail away.

“I don’t. My only intention of coming to the capital was to see to it that magic be given a fighting chance. If you’ll do that, it’s repayment enough.”

“We are already working on legalizing it,” I tell her.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” she says with a bow. I see her body shake as it tries to hold up her weight. “If I may as well, I’d like a room to sleep in for a few days. Healing King Aaron took a lot out of me and I don’t think I’m up for travel.”

“You can’t just fly away on your broomstick?” asks Riley, venom in her voice. I can see she still thinks Piper did something to Aaron.

“My broom is in for repairs,” Piper snaps back. I almost laugh.

“You can stay here for now,” says Aaron. “But I want you to consider taking my offer. Having you here would be a great asset to the nation and the Crown.”

“I’ll think about it,” she says as Oswald unlocks her chains. She rubs her wrists, wincing. “But I doubt I’ll decide to stay.”

I hope she doesn’t.

*Aaron*

When Piper has left the throne room, I look over to my husband. I wish we’d gotten time to honeymoon. I wish we’d had time to enjoy being husbands before our lives went back to this. We hadn’t even been married ten minutes before the attack. I can see the regret in his eyes as well.

“You disagree with me offering her a job?” I ask him, though I don’t need the answer.

“Aaron, everything she said was bullshit,” says Riley. “She’s playing a game with us. Mark my words, she’s going to choose to stay and it’s going to bring ruin to us. Milo, why did you tell her you’d make magic legal? Your first act as king and you do this?”

“Riley, I was desperate. You didn’t see Aaron. He was seconds away from dying,” says Milo.

Riley just rolls her eyes, shaking her head.

“It’s been decided,” I say. 

“Well, I’m not going to wait around for her to do something,” says Riley. “I’m going to talk to her.” She gets up to leave, but I call her back with her name.

“What?” she asks, rounding on me.

“You are not to bother her today. If you wish to speak to her tomorrow, so be it. Until then, let her rest.”

Riley rolls her eyes again but doesn’t say anything as she walks from the throne room.

“How’s your arm, Zelda?” asks Milo.

“Hurting, but I’m alright, Your Majesty. If I may be excused, I need to see to the injured and prepare the Queen’s medicine.”

“We should all get on with our day,” I say. The Small Council members leave first as Milo and I get up and walk to each other.

We wrap our arms around one another and hold each other tightly.

“I can’t stop thinking about how you almost died,” says Milo. “Now we’re making magic legal and Piper Dylan is staying in the palace.”

“Don’t forget we’re still dealing with the Red Hand and the Lower Reach,” I say as he pulls away from me, though keeping me wrapped in his arms.

“Gods, everything is so messed up right now. I feel like we’re the main characters in some dramatic story.”

“Yes, well, if the author could give us a break, I’d really appreciate it,” I say with a laugh. He smiles as he weaves his hand into mine and we leave the throne room, our guards behind us.

*Milo*

Later that afternoon, I decide to make my way toward Elaine’s room while Aaron takes a nap. Though Piper’s magic healed his wounds completely, it did nothing for the shock he experienced from almost dying. Zelda had offered a sleeping drug, but Aaron refused.

When I reach Elaine’s room, I find Mirra once again arguing with her about eating her food. And, once again, when Mirra sees me, she blushes scarlet.

“Your Highness!” she says. “I mean, Your Majesty! Shouldn’t you be enjoying your honeymoon phase with your king? I mean, the King? I mean…” she trails off, going even redder.

“It’s alright,” I say, trying to hold back a laugh. “The King is lying down. Want me to take over?”

I haven’t been in to see Elaine in a few days, not since Riley took me up to the top of West Tower. I hear she has barely been eating. She sits at her table, which is piled with pages of notes, scribbling again. 

“That would be nice,” says Mirra, leaving the plate of food on the table before she sweeps out of the room, holding her blushing face.

“She has a crush on you, you know,” says Elaine.

“I’m aware. Too bad for her I’m married to your son.”

“Oh, that’s right!” says Elaine, looking up at me. “How was the wedding?”

I stare at her for several seconds, confused. 

“You were there, Elaine,” I say, which makes her look confused.

“I wasn’t invited. I’m not a chicken, Milo, you know that. And now that you’re married to Aaron, I think it’s high time you call me ‘Mother’.”

I guess there’s no sense in refusing to call my mother-in-law Mother.

“Okay, Mother, then you should eat your food.”

“I couldn’t possibly eat that. It’s foul.”

“It's fine," I say. 

"Then you eat it."

 I am hungry. She can order something from the kitchens later if she's hungry. I pull the plate toward me and take a bite of the applesauce

*Aaron*

When I awake from my nap, I feel at peace. I look groggily out the window and see the sun is setting. I slept for much longer than I should have, but I needed it. For a solid thirty seconds, it’s as if I’ve woken up before the wedding. As if I’m going to get up and find Xion fretting over flowers or something. When I stand up out of bed, reality crashes over me, and the full weight of my responsibilities rests itself on my shoulders.

“Where is Milo?” I ask Oswald, who insisted on standing inside the doorframe while I napped. 

“I’m not sure, Your Majesty. I believe he said something about seeing the Queen today.”

“To my mother’s room, then, I guess.”

As we make our way there, we pass through a corridor in which I see a portion of the wall is pushed back. It’s one of those secret passages I’ve never found. 

“Wait here,” I tell Oswald, and push it open wider to find a staircase descending. I walk down it just a few steps and hear voices, but they’re too faint for me to make out every word.

“...don’t suspect me…for years…” I can tell it’s a woman’s voice, but I can’t place it as she’s whispering.

I hear a man’s voice next, but the only thing I hear is the word “hand.” 

Are they talking about the Red Hand? I take a few more steps down and I suddenly recognize the voice of the woman. It’s Mirra Haan, my mother’s Royal Attendant.

As I edge closer to the bottom of the stairs, I hear the last part of her sentence.

“...I can handle Milo. It’s not a big deal. Go, you have to report back.”

I can’t see her, but I hear two sets of footsteps retreating from my position.

My immediate reaction is to have the guards arrest Mirra. From the little I was able to glean from this conversation, Mirra might be working for the Red Hand. And what was that part about handling Milo?

Instead, I decide to take a more calculated approach. I will call Mirra forward and question her, but I should consult Milo first. I go back up the stairs and pull the wall shut. Oswald looks at me with a questioning look, but I shake my head in response and head for my mother’s room.

When I pass through the door to my mother's room, I find my husband sitting in a chair, looking at my mother’s nonsense notes.

“It all makes sense, Mother,” he says to her. “It all makes sense. The hyenas and the spiders are working together, of course. We never saw this before.”

I almost smile. The way he indulges my mother’s hallucinations to keep her placated is adorable.

“Aaron!” says my mother. “Shut the door. Milo and I have finally figured it out.”

I close the door and walk over to them, but I’m concerned when Milo looks up at me. His eyes are bugging and he looks frantic, like my mother does when she’s having one of her episodes.

“Aaron,” he says, standing, and holding the page out to me. “You have to see this. Mother has uncovered the truth. The Red Hand is chickens and the chickens are conspiring with the hyenas, but they don’t know the hyenas are controlling the spiders, Aaron, they don’t know.”

There’s something wrong with him. 

“Milo, are you okay?” I ask. 

“I’ve never been better. We’ve finally figured it out!” He’s almost crying with happiness. 

I was never good at talking to my mother when she was like this, but I give it a shot with Milo. “I’m worried the chickens have done something to you. Has anyone given you anything? Did you eat something weird?”

“I’ve only eaten Mother’s dinner,” he says, sounding indignant. “She said I could have it!”

Milo looks towards my mother’s closet and yells, “Go away! We don’t need your help!”

It’s the food. Someone’s been tampering with my mother’s food!

I rush to the door and pull it open to see a guard walking by.

“Guard! Go to Delgara at once. I want Mirra Haan brought the throne room.”

“Yes, sire!” the guard says and runs back down the hall.

When I look back into the room, both my mother and husband are writing furiously on separate pieces of paper. I cross to them and glance at Milo’s writing.

It’s utter gibberish.