Day 11 (War) - Fantasy AU - NSFW - @hollanovmicrofic - 1359 words
âYour highness? Prince Shane? Shane!â
Shane flinches at the touch. He realizes he doesnât know how long heâs been zoned out or how long Rose has been standing there.
âMy apologies, did you need something from me?â
âYou just looked as if you were having a breakdown,â his lady-in-waiting says, reaching out for him once again when she hears his breath hitch, âShane, you need to breathe.â
âIâm just so scared,â he croaks, tears now flowing freely down his face, âI donât know what Iâll do if he doesnât return.â
âYour mother would not have chosen him to lead our kingdom's military if she didnât have the utmost confidence in his abilities. Trust in her, and trust that he always comes home to you."
Shane nods and focuses on taking deeper breaths as Rose moves to open his curtains, allowing the morning light to flood the room.
Commander Ilya Rozanov was without a doubt the most feared warrior in the land. Other military leaders trembled at the very mention of his name and the reputation that came with it. Commander Rozanov was known for being ruthless, refusing to take prisoners and refusing to show mercy. New recruits told each other stories about their fearless leader and the trail of blood he left behind wherever he went.
But Ilya Rozanov was also husband to His Royal Highness, Prince Shane of Holland. He was the man who always returned from his patrols with a handful of flowers from the palace gardens. He was the man who stopped to play pretend with the children in the village. He was the man who knew how to take Shane apart so well it felt a shame that the thing his hands were most well-known for were their sword-wielding skills.
It had started off as a skirmish at the border. Shane never thought he'd see the day where his kingdom was at war, and yet that's what it had turned in to. Days spent picnicking and swimming and dancing late into the evenings with his love had turned into days spent catatonic, watching as Ilya stood at attention in his mother's throne room to rattle off statistics of death. Every time Shane had seen Ilya off into battle, he felt a pit form in his stomach as he watched the gates close. He wondered each time if that goodbye kiss was the last one he would receive.
This time was the worst, though. News had traveled quickly about a siege at the location that Ilya's battalion was stationed. It had been over a week since anyone had received correspondence from him.
Rose pauses by the window.
"Shane!" Rose's yell is quickly echoed by those outside the gate, who were watching the members of the missing battalion trudging towards the palace. They looked exhausted and many of them were horrifically injured, but they were alive.
Before Rose could say anymore, Shane was dashing out of the room and down to the front entrance. And there, in the foyer, currently being fussed over by nearly every servant in the palace, was his husband. He certainly looked worse for wear, but all Shane could focus on was the huge gash along the side of Ilya's shirt, stained with red.
He rushed down the stairs, everyone in the room making way for him to run straight into his husband's arms. Ilya held Shane so tightly he feared he would break, voice cracking as he whispered in Shane's ears.
"Moyo solnyshko, I missed you so much. I am alright, I am here. I will crawl through hell to come back to you."
Shane has no idea how long they stay like that, unmoving, until a voice from behind him calls out, "Prince Shane, ought we not take him down to the medical wing?"
Shane clears his throat before turning around. "No that will not be necessary, I will take care of the commander in our chambers."
"Very well, Your Highness."
The servants who had helped Ilya to their bedroom had barely shut the door behind them before Ilya had Shane pressed up against it.
"You will take care of the commander, will you?"
"That's not - " Shane squirms a little, trying to rub up on his husband's thigh and huffing when Ilya pulls back ever so slightly, "not what I meant and you know it."
"I think I know my husband very well."
Shane has no time to respond before he's spun around, face now pushed up against the door.
Ilya leans into his ear, so close it sends shockwaves through Shane's body, and whispers, "Tell me what you want, sweetheart?"
"Want you to fuck me. Want you to make up for almost not coming home. Want you to show me exactly what you came back for."
Ilya scrambles to pull his husband's pants and undergarments down. He straightens up and reaching his hand forward, tapping Shane's lips and letting out the tiniest of groans when his husband obediently takes the fingers into his mouth.
Shane whines when Ilya eventually pulls them out but is quickly silenced by a cold finger circling his rim. He's about to tell Ilya off for teasing him when he finally feels it push in, instead letting out a quiet gasp. Shane leans back, steadying himself against his husband's chest and breathing in his scent as Ilya works him open.
"Ilya, please." He stumbles as they make their way over to the bed, and Ilya chuckles as Shane nearly rips the buttons off his uniform shirt to get it off. He hisses a little when the wet cloth pulls away from his wound, and Shane gasps as the sight of it.
"Ilya, wait, I need to take care of this."
"No, is worse than it looks."
"Come here, darling." Shane watches in exasperation as Ilya shoves the rest of his uniform off and sits down against the headboard of the bed. He reaches his arm out for his shirt, which upon grabbing, he bunches up and presses against his wound.
"Hold here," Ilya says, replacing his own hand on the shirt with Shane's.
Shane wastes no time in straddling his husband, hand never leaving his makeshift bandage. He has a brief moment of clarity where he's about to protest once again, telling Ilya that the last thing he needs now is an infection on top of everything, but before the words can leave his mouth, Shane feels him pushing in.
The sex is dirty and animalistic and so loud Shane knows he should have the decency to be ashamed. He knows for certain that the guards stationed outside the bedroom door, the ones who report directly to his husband, can hear every groan that escapes their mouths. But all he can think about with Ilya inside him is how afraid he was that he would never feel his skin burn under his husband's touch ever again.
When they're both finished and cleaned up, Ilya finally has the sense to allow Shane to clean his wound. With every little hiss of pain that Ilya lets out, he watches Shane grow more and more tense. He reaches down to stroke Shane's hair, delighting in the way Shane rubs against his hand like a cat.
It's when Shane is applying the gauze that he finally breaks the silence. "What happened?"
"Ambush in the middle of the night. He was already in my tent when I woke up. If I had stayed asleep just a few seconds longer..." Ilya trails off, refusing to finish the sentence.
He expects to hear hiccups, already bringing his hands to Shane's face to brush his tears away. What he doesn't expect is to lift his husband's head up and see fire in his eyes.
"The next person that dares touch you," Shane whispers, voice barely audible but hardened like steel, "I will kill them with my bare hands."
Ilya knows then that their victory is inevitable. As much as he loves his in-laws, he longs for the day that Shane finally takes the throne. There will not be an ounce of mercy for anyone who dares to cross them.
(I started writing this one night when I was really high and then never finished it, but I promised myself I'd write for every prompt this month and honestly this is kind of my magnum opus. Also shoutout to my best friend who has been pestering me about this one for like three weeks)
