KING OF ESSETIR

King Cenred of Essetir. No friend of Camelot is innocent, but if I'm feeling considerably generous, I may just spare your life. *Indie Roleplay blog for King Cenred from Merlin* *Multi-verse, multi-fandom, OC friendly.*

[kingcenred]

KINGCENRED - rebooted sideblog of apurekindness

Cenred, King of Essetir. A study in: heavy is the head that wears the crown, the weight of familial expectations, unfaltering strength, balancing progress with tradition, accepting one's fate, duty and honour, defining masculinity, unwavering loyalty, the danger of suppressed emotions, rebuilding trust, cracks in the facade.

Independent, semi-selective roleplay blog for King Cenred from BBC Merlin / Arthurian legend and my own interpretation. Mun is 25+. OC, multiverse, multi-fandom and AU friendly.

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Heavily affiliated with @cfyork

[antioceas]

A chill ran down her spine. For just a moment, things almost appeared peaceful. One might even forget that they were members of opposite kingdoms - or had been before she was sent as a gift. But, that was a command, an order to be present at the gardens. For just a moment, she considered refusing.

"I shall see you in the morning, Your Majesty. Thank you again for your hospitality..." With a low bow, Eirena paused only a moment before following the servant to her chambers.

It was the next morning as Eirena waited patiently in the gardens. For a few minutes, she fell victim to the calm of gentle breezes carrying the scent of flowers. It almost felt like home. Almost. Blue eyes closed as she swayed back and forth in her long deep azure gown. Blue for the water. If she was right about the king, it would be best to play towards her magic.

[kingcenred]

The dawn training with his knights lasted longer than he anticipated, and he was still wearing his fighting leathers when he met Eirena in the gardens. He could not stop the faint, approving smile as he saw the deep blue of her gown; had she intentionally worn the Essetir colours? It suited her, regardless.

"Good morning. I take it you found your room to be adequate?" he asked, as he began to lead the way through the elaborate rose garden. "The lake is in the western most border of the palace gardens. The sea is not far from the palace either, we are a coastal city, but I fear a display of your magic down at the docks may intimidate the fishermen, a little," he admitted, good-naturedly.

Again, there was an excited twinkle in his dark eyes at the promise of more magic. What wonders would Eirena show him next?

[kingcenred]

Got a busy couple of weeks coming up, with equally busy weekends (sadly) so my activity will be a bit slower until the end of the month!

[beautiful-mischief]

The memories that had been called to mind by Cenred’s pleading questions were both a comfort and torment in equal measure, seemingly enough to reassure his husband that he was not some illusion conjured by Morgause and yet not enough to erase the damage that she had done entirely; Loki suspected this was perhaps the greatest hardship their bond had endured, worse than poisonings and naysayers and attempts on both their lives when that trust that had always existed between them felt so fractured. Rather than impose himself upon Cenred he allowed the knight that had accompanied them to help him up to their chambers, a slow and laborious task but thankfully one that went unobserved when the palace staff had been told to make themselves scarce — even so, he sensed the whispers would be spreading already about the state their king had returned in.

Once they were alone in their chambers, a place that ought to have felt like a safe haven for them both, the quiet felt all the more oppressive. It pained him to feel like he had to keep his distance, to tread as carefully as if he were walking on broken glass around someone with whom such casual intimacy had once come so easily, but as Cenred tentatively asked for his aid Loki nodded and carefully approached. It felt a little like cornering a skittish woodland creature as he offered his arm, supposing it might help matters if the other man was the one to close the distance. “It’s alright.” He assured softly, capturing Cenred’s gaze with his own. “Take your time.”

[kingcenred]

Gods, he felt pathetic. His logical mind knew that this truly was his husband standing in front of him; the man who had his whole heart, who he trusted more than anyone else in the world, who he would destroy innumerable kingdoms to protect. And yet, his muscles tensed up as he took a couple of wobbly steps towards him, his heart thudding in his chest, as his body seemed to prepare for the inevitability of further pain. It was as though Morgause had reduced him to a quivering, abused dog, terrified for his owner's next kick.

Still, he would not allow her to win. Not after everything he had endured in those past three weeks, and he stubbornly took Loki's outstretched arm. The warmth of his husband's body and his familiar scent were reassuringly real, and he was pleased when he did not flinch at all on the short journey across the room to the steaming bath.

It was with relief that he discarded his ripped and bloodied clothing on the floor of the bathroom. Undressed, the extent of Cenred's ordeal was evident. The healer had done an excellent job at fixing the worst of his injuries, but his chest and stomach was covered in lines of pink, fresh, newly healed skin and dark bruises remained over his ribs. Holding onto Loki's arm to stop himself from wobbling, he stepped into the enormous bath and quickly slipped into the water, a groan escaping him at the delightful warmth and he let his head full back against the rim of the bath.

"Sorry," he mumbled again. At least, this time, he found it easier to meet his husband's gaze. "Thank you."

[chaosfaery]

Lilé melted into Cenred’s kiss, leaning into him and savouring the embrace. His large hand over her stomach seemed to soothe the little one, for which she was grateful. Part of her had been afraid that he would shy away from fatherhood, but the opposite was blessedly proving true.

And so she leant into her King as they walked, perfectly content to stay as close to him as possible. The scent of the roses flooded her nose moments later, and she inhaled contentedly.

“Ha! No,” she reassured; as adventurous as she felt, the lake was too far away at this stage of pregnancy. Cenred would have been in bits trying to dissuade her. “No lake today. The roses are enough, mo ghrá.”

Delicately, Lilé stroked petals with her fingers, caressed rich green leaves. The thorns did not seem inclined to seek tribute, for which she was happily relieved. With a single click of her fingers, her shoes disappeared, leaving her feet bare on the grass. Pleased, Lilé flexed her toes, a blissful smile emerging.

“This is better,” she whispered. “The soil, the flowers, the sun… I needed this. Thank you.”

[kingcenred]

"Thank the Gods for that, my heart wouldn't be able to take it," he teased. As they walked, his powers seeped through the ground involuntarily, cushioning the earth so that it felt like they were walking upon a bed of thick moss. In the impossible event that Lilé were to fall and Cenred was unable to catch her, Essetir's earth itself would keep her safe.

He smiled, staying near-glued to his mate's side, as he watched her brush her fingertips against the petals and the leaves. "Of course. We can come out here whenever you wish, but you must promise me you won't try without me," he insisted, although it seemed the bond itself would not allow her to leave the safety of their rooms, unaccompanied.

"We must soon make a decision on the child's name, my love," he absentmindedly reminded her, as one of his hands reached out - again - to tenderly trace the swell of her stomach.

[beautiful-mischief]

The air had felt so heavy between them, thick with shame and guilt and fear and all those things left unsaid, but as he watched his husband’s expression crumple and that plea leave his lips, Loki swore he felt his heart break for Cenred all over again, his love and sympathy written raw upon his face as he took a deep, shuddering breath. “I know that you sat by my bedside for days when I had been poisoned, and that you stopped at nothing until you found out who was responsible.” He began, voice a soft murmur. “I know that on one of our first days together you showed ms down to the lake, and that that spot became our hideaway. I —“ Loki swallowed thickly around the lump in his throat as he itched to reach across the space between them and yet realised he couldn’t, lest he see his husband flinch away again. “I know that I love you, and that I would sooner die myself than ever do anything to hurt you.”

The silence that followed was both welcome and agonising all at once, and as they rolled through the cobblestone streets of Essetir he quietly watched his husband doze, slipping in and out of consciousness with his head lolling against the wall of the carriage. He looked so tired, sun-kissed face pale and drawn even in sleep, and it was only once he began to stir that Loki let his gaze stray elsewhere, afraid of staring too long or doing anything that might spook him when he seemed as flighty as one of his beloved horses.

“That’s where we’re going.” The dark-haired prince assured, such an order already having been given when none of them had known what state their king would be in once they found him. It was best not to attract any undue attention. “I’ve told everyone to be as discrete as possible. Our chambers will be ready, and there’ll be a bath drawn for you if you want it — I’m sure the healer might want a better look at you, too.”

[kingcenred]

There was frankly no possible way that Loki's heartfelt words were the result of an enchantment, and his whole body visibly relaxed as the traumatic memories were momentarily pushed aside by their first kiss at the lake. Cenred didn't smile, he couldn't - not yet - but the anguish in his dark eyes lessened, and he met his husband's gaze without fear. It was the reassurance he needed to allow him to doze against the side of the carriage, without being plagued by nightmares.

Once awake, he was torn between wanting to stare out the window at the miraculous sight that was his home...and hide from the inquisitive gazes of the people they passed. Of course, he should have known that his husband would have prepared them for privacy, and he gave a grateful nod in response. "Thank you," he murmured again.

As they arrived at the rear of the palace, it was clear that his staff were thrilled to see him back, but thankfully none of them approached as he allowed his knight to slowly help him back to his chambers. Trying not to allow his panic to get the better of him at the thought of being alone with Loki, he dismissed his knight and turned to his husband.

"Will you help me with the bath?" he asked, taking a deep breath and steeling himself for the touch of Loki's hands. He would not flinch, this time.

[beautiful-mischief]

Cenred’s apologetic grimace was little consolation when it pained Loki so to see the man he loved shrink away from him like it would burn him if they dared touch, his gaze only straying from the scenery flashing by the carriage window and back to his husband at his quiet admission. “I suspected as much.” He murmured, searching Cenred’s gaze like somehow he might see all those terrifying visions reflected back as the hatred and anger he felt towards Morgause continued to curdle in his blood, bile rising in his throat at the very thought of what she had made Cenred see. At that moment Loki could not decide whether he wanted to know, or whether the knowledge would simply be too painful to bear. “You don’t need to tell me what she showed you, not yet, but if there is ever anything I can do to help assure you that this isn’t some sort of trick, you need only ask.”

It was almost amusing how Cenred’s cursing proved so reassuring amidst such uncertainty, even that spark of the king’s anger a heartening sign that Morgause had not broken him entirely. Loki had always known that Cenred was strong, both in body and in spirit, but the fact that he was sitting before him and still remained in possession of his faculties was irrefutable proof of that strength. He would be fine, in time. He supposed the only snag was that patience had never quite been his husband’s strong suit.

“There are still stirrings of it in the air, as there were before you were taken, but for the moment no.” Loki assured. Before this he might have smiled, teasingly questioned whether the other man had any faith in him at all, but it was difficult to summon up any trace of mirth in times like these. “We think Morgause has been fuelling the rumours, trying to sow dissent amongst our neighbours. Whether she has truly been working with any nearby kingdoms is yet to be seen, but that is why I’ve had the knights scour the place for any proof. I…imagine she didn’t say anything to you?”

[kingcenred]

It was easier to meet his husband's gaze now that he no longer expected him to launch towards him with a weapon at any moment, although he felt a wave of shame at the way his terrified mind had responded instinctively, avoiding Loki's touch. He didn't answer immediately, and his heart rate began to spike once more as some of the visions returned to the forefront of his mind. "Tell me something only my husband would know," he pleaded. "Tell me something she hasn't been able to defile."

Of course, he had no doubts that Loki had made an excellent ruler in the three weeks he had been...indisposed. Relief made a fleeting appearance across his exhausted face that he did not return to a kingdom in the midst of war, although it was quickly replaced with horror as he thought about what Morgause had said to him, what she'd made the illusion of his husband say. "No, she didn't say anything about that," he muttered, his ragged voice wobbling with emotion. He lapsed into silence afterwards, the exhaustion claiming him and he spent much of the rest of the journey dozing against the wall of the carriage.

The king stirred once they entered the city, the familiar noises of his home causing his shoulders to drop, relieved and grateful in equal measure. Gods, he didn't think he would see his home again. But the sight of a royal carriage was understandably attracting attention; however much his council may have tried to keep the reason for his absence under wraps, there would have been no avoiding an admittance that the king had not been in the city. "I can't - people can't see me like this," he muttered, panicked. "Can we go to the back of the palace?"

[beautiful-mischief]

“Edible paint? Is that really a thing?” Mal laughed, an impish grin blossoming across his lips at Cenred’s playful suggestion, utterly delighted by the thought. “I was going to suggest we get one of those kits where you cover yourselves in body paint and then make art on a white sheet, but that works too.”

It seemed so quintessentially them that they were already dreaming up all the different ways that they might christen their new home once it was completed, enough that the florist couldn’t keep the bright, joyful smile from his face as Cenred continued to trail kisses down the column of his throat, eyes slipping shut in quiet bliss as he tilted his head back and savoured the brush of his lips — at least until his boyfriend pulled away and then mentioned yet another potential step in their relationship, albeit a slightly less significant one than buying a house together. “Are you sure you can handle Malus Alway with unlimited spending power?” He warned with a teasing smirk. “Because I will start shopping for things for this place at my earliest convenience.” The florist already couldn’t wait to begin, all the more so knowing that Cenred was generous enough to give him free rein.

“I don’t mind heading back.” Mal hummed, giving the spare room one last lingering glance, expression softening as he went up on to his tiptoes to brush a kiss to Cenred’s cheek. “Thank you, again.” He murmured. “This is…more than I ever could have imagined, truly. I can’t wait to start working on it with you.”

[kingcenred]

Malus Alway with unlimited spending power truly was a sight to behold. Over the next week or so, boxes upon boxes of DIY supplies turned up at the house, and orders for some of the furniture had already been made. Cenred rather enjoyed someone else making the bulk of decisions for a change, and he willingly agreed with almost all of his boyfriend's suggestions.

The next free weekend the pair of them had, when Mal was not occupied with organising his new studio and Cenred had no daytime royal obligations, found them back at the cottage from dawn until dusk. Well, almost - they may have lounged around naked in bed in the palace for most of the morning.

"Alright, here's the last of the paint tins in from the car and the rollers and paint brushes. We're not bothering to protect this awful carpet, are we? That can be the next thing we rip up," he chuckled. So far, the thought of their own DIY project was thoroughly exciting...though Cenred wasn't sure he would feel quite the same when his arms were inevitably covered in drips of paint and his back was aching from hours of work. "What colour do you think in here, then?"

[beautiful-mischief]

“I’m not either — but we could always try something new together? I’ve always wanted to try my hand at painting.” Mal suggested with a fond smile, amused by the thought of them trying to draw one another or capture the rolling hills of the Essetirian countryside on canvas, but as Cenred suggested a piano his grin stretched even wider, an excited glimmer in his gaze. “It could be a music room!” He beamed, admittedly having forgotten that it was a skill his boyfriend even had when it seemed he often had so little time to indulge. “Or we could at least try and fit a small one downstairs somewhere, if there isn’t enough space up here?” The florist could just imagine lazy weekends with Cenred sat behind the piano trying out different melodies whilst he read or sketched or lounged nearby, or even coaxing the other man into teaching him how to play a tune himself.

Sunshine flooding in through the windows and music filling the halls, and not a single responsibility…how blissful it would be.

Humming his contentment as Cenred gathered him in close once more, Mal’s laughter came easily as his boyfriend’s lips found the curve of his throat, the open-mouthed kisses he pressed to freckled skin ticklish and deliciously warm. “Oh, that goes without saying.” Mal smirked. “That’ll be the first thing we do when everything’s finished — and just think, we’ll be able to be as loud as we want when there’s no one here to scandalise.”

[kingcenred]

"That could be fun. Particularly if we also bought some edible body paints," he winked. He smiled fondly at Mal's enthusiastic suggestion, and quickly nodded in agreement. "Good idea. I have the floor plan of the whole cottage, with dimensions, so I can see if a small piano would fit up here with a small craft workspace and some comfy chairs? You know, maybe I can get into interior design after all," he grinned. This would be a far different, and undoubtedly more enjoyable, experience to when he worked on designing the coastal villa.

He couldn't help but continue trailing kisses down Mal's throat, encouraged by his easy laughter - one of Cenred's very favourite sounds. "Mmm. We better get started on the house right away then," he teased, as he finally pulled back to meet Mal's gaze. "I thought, now that we'll have a house together as well as being business partners, we could get a joint credit card? Then you can just buy whatever you want for the house, and nobody can make it difficult for you," he suggested. "You spend so much of my money anyway, might as well make it official," he teased, thinking back to the auction of the previous night.

"Do you want to stay here for longer, or head back to the palace? Some of the photos from last night will have been sent to us."

[beautiful-mischief]

The possibilities for what this house could become, what this very room that they stood in could be, seemed unlimited in a moment that was so pure and so entirely joyful; there was not a single trace of doubt in Mal’s mind as to how beautiful it could be, no trace of apprehension as to all the work that was ahead of them when Cenred had gone and given him a gift he hadn’t even known he wanted. Whether it ended up as a study or a studio or something else entirely, the florist couldn’t find it in himself to care — he doubted anything, not even Henry, could dampen his excitement.

“We’ll figure it out.” Mal hummed, admiring the room — and his boyfriend stood within it — from the doorway, leaning against it with a smile. “Maybe it could be a bit of everything? A studio, but for both of us.” His grin turned impish, blue eyes glittering with mirth as he teased him. “Not that you seem to have many hobbies, outside of real estate.”

[kingcenred]

Slowly rotating on the spot as he considered the best use of their extra space, he came to a stop facing his boyfriend and huffed out another laugh. "Maybe you could teach me to do something creative, for once," he considered. "What should I try? Cross stitch? Drawing? I don't think I'm much of a knitter," he teased.

He stepped across the room, to wrap his arms around Mal and bring him back to his chest. "Do you reckon if I put a piano in here, we'd still have enough space? Not a grand piano, just an ordinary one. It might encourage me to play a bit more than I am at the moment," he considered. He didn't want to lose his skill, but there was always so many other constraints on his time.

His lips curved into a smirk, as he leaned in to press a couple of open-mouthed kisses to Mal's throat. "Of course, we'll have to start christening every room. Won't we?"

[chaosfaery]

The music ended and she could see the women out of the corner of her eye. Hopeful, wanting. But Lilé knew Cenred, and she stifled a laugh at the brief look on his face. No, that was the last thing he wanted. Dancing with veritable strangers when his first love was right here?

It did not escape her that even as he stepped back, his hands still held hers. As though he could not bear to let her go. Her heart twinged.

His question, however, had her eyebrow cock ever so slightly. It would not be appropriate, surely? Was the King not meant to dance with others? It was a celebration for him, after all. But in the end, Lilé did not voice her concerns. The urgency in Cenred’s voice dismissed all else. He needed an exit from the scene. So she simply nodded.

“I will join you.”

[kingcenred]

A bright, relieved grin immediately spread across his face and he quickly tugged Lilé off the dancefloor before anyone could so much as take a step towards them. Weaving quickly through the crowds, he briefly met his mother's pleased gaze before he dipped through the open doors and out into the garden.

There were only a handful of couples outside in the evening air, and once Cenred led them through to the rose garden, they were finally alone.

"That's better," he smiled, relieved to be surrounded by his beloved plants rather than hoards of people. But, even then, he barely gave the elaborate blooms a glance; Lilé, as always, had captivated his full attention.

"I've missed you, Lils," he admitted, and he squeezed their joint hands together.

[beautiful-mischief]

He had replayed that moment when a guard had come racing in with the news that Cenred’s horse had returned bloodied and riderless over in his head a thousand times, could recall with aching clarity the moment where he swore his heart had stopped, the burgeoning panic and devastation that had festered within him for hours, days, weeks now — it had been some time since he had slept soundly, terrorised as he was with the imaginings of what could have become of his husband, of what would become of Essetir should he not be found. It had been all of Loki’s worst nightmares realised, and yet the sight of Cenred chained to that stone table far eclipsed any sort of torment that he had imagined his husband facing at his old love’s hand.

They had the sorceress in chains, ones he had imbued with his own enchantments to keep her bound and her magic contained, but it had only been the sight of his husband sprawled there almost lifeless against the cold stone that had pierced through that moment of icy fury where he could have so easily killed her himself, a flood of rage and pain and anger that crystallised into a spike of panic that pierced through his heart as he hurried into that secluded dungeon room, stumbling in his haste as all else fell away.

“Cenred.” His hands were trembling where he leaned in to caress his husband’s face, tears coursing down his cheeks as he searched those dark, hazy eyes and his pained, fearful expression, watching the man he loved slip in and out of consciousness with a dawning feeling of dread that curdled in the out of his stomach. “Cenred, it’s me — someone get a healer!” The dark-haired prince could hear the wavering panic in his own voice as he shouted desperately over his for aid, brow pinched in worry as the man before him seemed to weakly struggle beneath his touch.

Stroking matted, sweat-damp hair out of Cenred’s face Loki loosened a shuddering breath, squeezing his eyes shut as he softly settled his fingertips upon his temples, able to sense the magic Morgause had worked upon the other man still gripping his mind like cold, icy fingers. Summoning up every ounce of focus and strength he still possessed to sever whatever twisted spell kept his consciousness captive, forcing her influence from his husband’s head with a ragged breath and a surge of power from his own innate well of arcane strength, the emerald light gleaming in his eyes and at his fingertips then ebbed, his own shoulders slumping in relief as he felt her spell work severed.

“Please.” He whispered, dark hair hanging around their faces like the long fronds of a willow. “Please let me not be too late.”

[beautiful-mischief]

The way the tension ebbed from Cenred’s shoulders as he wrapped himself in his cloak and inhaled its scent was a heartening sight, even if his husband still seemed so wary, and Loki did his best to cling to that barest little glimpse of relief and the hope it seemed to ignite within him. All was not lost, it seemed, even if whatever Morgause had done to torment his lover seemed to have strained their bond to the point of breaking. He tried to keep the frown from his lips as he contemplated it, recalled the way that Cenred had pleaded for him not to hurt him whilst still gripped by her spell — the dawning realisation that perhaps she had used his image to torment him sickened the dark-haired prince beyond belief, his stomach churning unpleasantly even as he withdrew that flask of wine and took a sip for himself, then offered it towards his husband.

“There is nothing to thank me for.” He insisted with a soft shake of his head. “Every day that you were left there with her was…it was my failure. We should have gotten to you sooner.” Despite the upheaval of having him rule in Cenred’s absence, truth be told the people of Essetir and those most trusted by his husband had shown him more respect and support than he ever could have anticipated — but even then he had felt the weight of every passing day that their true king remained missing, of sleepless nights spent tossing and turning and wondering if there was anything more that he could possibly do. Loki had not wanted to be a disappointment, not to his husband or to the people that had become his own on their wedding day, and yet he felt that he was despite all his best efforts.

“It’s been three weeks.” Loki added, voice a reluctant, apologetic murmur. “The fact that you are still alive is a miracle.”

[kingcenred]

Despite the fact he was ever so slowly beginning to trust his senses once more, he physically flinched when his fingers brushed against Loki's on the wine flask. He grimaced, for even in his current state he could easily imagine how upsetting his reaction would be for his husband.

"Sorry," he mumbled, chugging down much of the flask in a few gulps. With such little food over the past few weeks, he could already feel the warmth beginning to relax him further. "She...made me see things. It's hard to believe that this is all real," he admitted, and he wrapped his husband's cloak more tightly around himself.

"Three weeks? Fuck," a hint of outrage returned to his voice, and the oath passing through his lips made him sound much more like himself. "What a bitch," he muttered. Anger was good, anger was powerful. He could embrace the fury, and bury down his fear. But, truthfully, he mainly just felt exhausted, and he let his head rest against the wall of the carriage. "No-one declared war on Essetir while I was gone?"

[kingcenred]

When do you gaze at your soulmate?

when they're dancing

you're not sure if they know you're there or not. you're not sure if it matters. you watch them sway to the music, watch as they twirl around and smile for no one but themselves. they're free and laughing. they're alive and vibrant. they're everything you might never be except when you're with them. so full of life it makes something in your chest tighten. there are frown lines at the corners of your mouth but your lips are smiling right now. rare. and often, only for them. they have light in their hearts and some days you fear the darkness in you might swallow it whole. but they'd never let you walk away. so make sure the darkness inside you keeps all the other monsters away from their tender heart.

Tagged by: @beautiful-mischief (ty!)

Tagging: @vallorouslly @chaosfaery

[beautiful-mischief]

He had replayed that moment when a guard had come racing in with the news that Cenred’s horse had returned bloodied and riderless over in his head a thousand times, could recall with aching clarity the moment where he swore his heart had stopped, the burgeoning panic and devastation that had festered within him for hours, days, weeks now — it had been some time since he had slept soundly, terrorised as he was with the imaginings of what could have become of his husband, of what would become of Essetir should he not be found. It had been all of Loki’s worst nightmares realised, and yet the sight of Cenred chained to that stone table far eclipsed any sort of torment that he had imagined his husband facing at his old love’s hand.

They had the sorceress in chains, ones he had imbued with his own enchantments to keep her bound and her magic contained, but it had only been the sight of his husband sprawled there almost lifeless against the cold stone that had pierced through that moment of icy fury where he could have so easily killed her himself, a flood of rage and pain and anger that crystallised into a spike of panic that pierced through his heart as he hurried into that secluded dungeon room, stumbling in his haste as all else fell away.

“Cenred.” His hands were trembling where he leaned in to caress his husband’s face, tears coursing down his cheeks as he searched those dark, hazy eyes and his pained, fearful expression, watching the man he loved slip in and out of consciousness with a dawning feeling of dread that curdled in the out of his stomach. “Cenred, it’s me — someone get a healer!” The dark-haired prince could hear the wavering panic in his own voice as he shouted desperately over his for aid, brow pinched in worry as the man before him seemed to weakly struggle beneath his touch.

Stroking matted, sweat-damp hair out of Cenred’s face Loki loosened a shuddering breath, squeezing his eyes shut as he softly settled his fingertips upon his temples, able to sense the magic Morgause had worked upon the other man still gripping his mind like cold, icy fingers. Summoning up every ounce of focus and strength he still possessed to sever whatever twisted spell kept his consciousness captive, forcing her influence from his husband’s head with a ragged breath and a surge of power from his own innate well of arcane strength, the emerald light gleaming in his eyes and at his fingertips then ebbed, his own shoulders slumping in relief as he felt her spell work severed.

“Please.” He whispered, dark hair hanging around their faces like the long fronds of a willow. “Please let me not be too late.”

[beautiful-mischief]

Once Cenred was comfortably situated within ten carriage, one of the knights sat beside him, Loki followed and settled in the plush seats opposite his husband, gaze downcast as he realised that he had positioned himself as far away from him as the confines of the carriage would allow, letting his focus drift out the window as the horses surged forward and their journey home began. It was difficult to reconcile with the relief at having found the other man alive and the sudden sense of distance that seemed to have appeared between them, a chasm that hadn’t even existed back when the two of them had first met and their union had come to fruition — though he knew it was not his own doing, that whatever Morgause had done to his husband it had broken his mind as well as his body, it was disconcerting to have the man he loved acting like a skittish woodland creature in his presence when before things had just been so easy.

Expression softening sympathetically at the sound of Cenred’s chattering teeth, his body trembling like he was still confined within that freezing dungeon, Loki tugged his own cloak from his shoulders and offered the bundle of soft, warm emerald fabric towards him. “A few hours north of Essetir, past the mountains.” He explained, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “When we first extended our search this way we thought the ruin we found you in was abandoned, but Morgause had temporarily taken up residence in the dungeons and catacombs beneath. We believe she planned on taking you elsewhere so we acted before we could lose you altogether — it’s possible she has been a part of instigating all this talk of war with our neighbours, but the other knights will search her hiding places for any proof.”

Hesitant in the way he lifted his gaze to meet Cenred’s, Loki offered a faint, tired smile. “I am just glad we managed to find you when we did…would you like some water? Or I’ve a flask with some wine in it?”

[kingcenred]

He reached out hesitantly for the offered cloak, as if he expected Loki to withdraw it at the last moment and reveal a weapon. But a relieved sigh escaped him once he'd wrapped the soft material around himself, and he closed his eyes briefly as he inhaled the scent of his husband. That was something Morgause had never replicated, and his thundering heart began to calm just a little.

He was free. It truly was his husband sitting across from him, and not an enchantment. The logical part of his brain accepted that now, joyfully, but he could not vanish the weeks of horror from his mind. Not when so much of his pain had seemingly been inflicted by his husband's very own hand.

"Thank you," he murmured. There were endless words unsaid, which Cenred did not yet have the strength nor mental fortitude to say: thank you for not giving up, for keeping Essetir safe, for rescuing him, and for accepting, already, just how broken he was. "Wine, please." Gods, it would be a relief to take even just the slightest edge off his spiralling mind. "How long has it been? I lost track of the days," he admitted.

[beautiful-mischief]

He had replayed that moment when a guard had come racing in with the news that Cenred’s horse had returned bloodied and riderless over in his head a thousand times, could recall with aching clarity the moment where he swore his heart had stopped, the burgeoning panic and devastation that had festered within him for hours, days, weeks now — it had been some time since he had slept soundly, terrorised as he was with the imaginings of what could have become of his husband, of what would become of Essetir should he not be found. It had been all of Loki’s worst nightmares realised, and yet the sight of Cenred chained to that stone table far eclipsed any sort of torment that he had imagined his husband facing at his old love’s hand.

They had the sorceress in chains, ones he had imbued with his own enchantments to keep her bound and her magic contained, but it had only been the sight of his husband sprawled there almost lifeless against the cold stone that had pierced through that moment of icy fury where he could have so easily killed her himself, a flood of rage and pain and anger that crystallised into a spike of panic that pierced through his heart as he hurried into that secluded dungeon room, stumbling in his haste as all else fell away.

“Cenred.” His hands were trembling where he leaned in to caress his husband’s face, tears coursing down his cheeks as he searched those dark, hazy eyes and his pained, fearful expression, watching the man he loved slip in and out of consciousness with a dawning feeling of dread that curdled in the out of his stomach. “Cenred, it’s me — someone get a healer!” The dark-haired prince could hear the wavering panic in his own voice as he shouted desperately over his for aid, brow pinched in worry as the man before him seemed to weakly struggle beneath his touch.

Stroking matted, sweat-damp hair out of Cenred’s face Loki loosened a shuddering breath, squeezing his eyes shut as he softly settled his fingertips upon his temples, able to sense the magic Morgause had worked upon the other man still gripping his mind like cold, icy fingers. Summoning up every ounce of focus and strength he still possessed to sever whatever twisted spell kept his consciousness captive, forcing her influence from his husband’s head with a ragged breath and a surge of power from his own innate well of arcane strength, the emerald light gleaming in his eyes and at his fingertips then ebbed, his own shoulders slumping in relief as he felt her spell work severed.

“Please.” He whispered, dark hair hanging around their faces like the long fronds of a willow. “Please let me not be too late.”

[beautiful-mischief]

It was like a physical blow to watch his husband turn away in uncertain silence, the man to whom he’d opened his heart seemingly treating him like a stranger as he leaned upon two of his knights and made his trembling ascent up the stairs, leaving him down below in the dungeon’s bitter chill. Loki took a deep breath to steel himself before he followed, torn between the need to console the man he loved and present a competent front before the men who had been under his command for weeks now, his eyes upon Cenred’s back — though he had never been more relieved to see someone in all his days, that fear and rejection still stung more than he ever could have anticipated. It curdled in his gut with a visceral hatred for the woman who had torn away his happiness and plunged their kingdom into turmoil, giving a curt shake of his head as Cenred croaked out his query.

“I’m not letting her anywhere near you.” He had been quite clear with his men about that, though whether they obeyed his commands with their king newly recovered was another story. “Morgause is confined in one of the other dungeons, I saw to it that the wards on the door will keep her there until we decide what to do with her, and with those enchanted chains there will be nothing she can do about it.” It was far too tempting to torment her in the same way she had Cenred, to inflict her own cruelty tenfold for all that she had done when simply to kill her seemed too merciful a fate; but there was much that she had to answer for, all the more so when the sorceress had been fraternising with their enemies, and for all he craved her ruin his position demanded that he exercise restraint. He would not sink to her level, not yet.

“We can ride ahead in the carriage, and make our way back to Essetir.” Loki suggested, then hesitated. “If…you would be comfortable with that? One of the knights may accompany us, if you wish?”

[kingcenred]

A flicker of relief darted across his features at Loki's reassurance that she wouldn't be near him, that he wouldn't have to look her in the eyes and give her the satisfaction of seeing how much of him she'd managed to break. He could decide on a suitable punishment once he had recovered; keeping her locked in the dungeon indefinitely was the very least of what she deserved.

"Good," he managed to murmur, as he relied upon his knights to half-carry him towards the carriage. It took more effort than he cared to admit to make the short distance towards the awaiting carriage: the healer had mended his injuries, but could not recover his lost strength so easily.

His body continued to tremble as he collapsed into one of the seats of the carriage, and he let out a relieved sigh at the softness of the furnishing. No more cold stone digging into his spine. He positioned himself up against the side of the carriage, subconsciously keeping as much distance from his husband as he could, and nodded for one of his knights to join them.

"Where are we?" he asked, his voice gradually beginning to sound more normal, although his teeth chattered noisily together. "Is there a spare cloak? Or blanket?" Gods, he felt like he'd never be warm again.

[antioceas]

It was almost... endearing the way he smiled so easily at her magic. Like a child in awe at the prestidigitation of a minor wizard. While Eirena hadn't lost her fear entirely, another portion of her heart opened up for something warmer. Cozier. Maybe even a sense of affection for the king.

"Thank you, Your Majesty. I'm glad that it was up to your standards. I would hate for you to be disappointed..." Another bow, sweeping low. If she could stay on his good side with her water magic, perhaps things might turn out well.

"I suppose... both? I was born with an innate talent but it took years of practice to hone it into artistry." Eirena paused to consider the question at hand. How much was her natural ability and how much was her constant practice?

Could she find herself happy here? It was away from her family - which brought with it a sense of guilt - but wasn't that it's own positive. No more of her sister demanding all attention.

"I am honored to be here."

[kingcenred]

He nodded at her explanation; it was in keeping with the sorcerers he had working for him in his court, but none of them were water nymphs and their magic relied upon years of training and hard work to make their innate talents useful.

"A servant will show you to your rooms. I am sure you must be tired from your journey," he commented. "In the morning, you will accompany me through the gardens, to the lake. I am intrigued to see what your powers can accomplish with a larger amount of water."

His words were polite and his tone soft, but it was clearly an order. There was no possibility for Eirena to decline. Still, he had no intention of treating his new 'gift' unkindly, if she gave him no reason to. With a twitch of his fingers, he summoned forward a waiting maid and nodded towards the young nymph. "Take her to her rooms, make sure she has something to eat."

[beautiful-mischief]

He had replayed that moment when a guard had come racing in with the news that Cenred’s horse had returned bloodied and riderless over in his head a thousand times, could recall with aching clarity the moment where he swore his heart had stopped, the burgeoning panic and devastation that had festered within him for hours, days, weeks now — it had been some time since he had slept soundly, terrorised as he was with the imaginings of what could have become of his husband, of what would become of Essetir should he not be found. It had been all of Loki’s worst nightmares realised, and yet the sight of Cenred chained to that stone table far eclipsed any sort of torment that he had imagined his husband facing at his old love’s hand.

They had the sorceress in chains, ones he had imbued with his own enchantments to keep her bound and her magic contained, but it had only been the sight of his husband sprawled there almost lifeless against the cold stone that had pierced through that moment of icy fury where he could have so easily killed her himself, a flood of rage and pain and anger that crystallised into a spike of panic that pierced through his heart as he hurried into that secluded dungeon room, stumbling in his haste as all else fell away.

“Cenred.” His hands were trembling where he leaned in to caress his husband’s face, tears coursing down his cheeks as he searched those dark, hazy eyes and his pained, fearful expression, watching the man he loved slip in and out of consciousness with a dawning feeling of dread that curdled in the out of his stomach. “Cenred, it’s me — someone get a healer!” The dark-haired prince could hear the wavering panic in his own voice as he shouted desperately over his for aid, brow pinched in worry as the man before him seemed to weakly struggle beneath his touch.

Stroking matted, sweat-damp hair out of Cenred’s face Loki loosened a shuddering breath, squeezing his eyes shut as he softly settled his fingertips upon his temples, able to sense the magic Morgause had worked upon the other man still gripping his mind like cold, icy fingers. Summoning up every ounce of focus and strength he still possessed to sever whatever twisted spell kept his consciousness captive, forcing her influence from his husband’s head with a ragged breath and a surge of power from his own innate well of arcane strength, the emerald light gleaming in his eyes and at his fingertips then ebbed, his own shoulders slumping in relief as he felt her spell work severed.

“Please.” He whispered, dark hair hanging around their faces like the long fronds of a willow. “Please let me not be too late.”

[beautiful-mischief]

The fearful look in Cenred’s eyes was seared into Loki’s memory, replaying a thousand times over as he stood back and allowed the healer to tend to his husband, wiping away his own tears on the back of a pale, long-fingered hand and wrapping his arms around himself, a quiet sentinel as his knights scavenged every corner of the dungeon for anything more that might incriminate Morgause further, searching carefully lest the sorceress had left any traps behind for the unwary; somehow Loki doubted she would be so careless as to leave anything significant just laying around.

Loosening a soft breath of relief as the agony seemed to fade from Cenred’s face, the healer’s magic soothing festering wounds and beginning to knit bone and sinew back together, though he itched to ask the true extent of his husband’s injuries Loki suspected hearing what harm Morgause had inflicted would only enrage him even further; instead he nodded as Cenred finally sought his gaze, feeling his heart clench in his ribcage at the raw sound of his voice, hoarse from screaming.

“This is all real, you have my word.” He assured, voice soft as his expression crumpled. “We’re here to bring you home. I…I only wish it could have been sooner.”

[kingcenred]

With the worst of his injuries healed, and the magic vanished from his mind, his years of training was beginning to kick in. His eyes darted around the room, as he took several breaths - no longer painfully, now that his ribs were healed - to try and ground himself back in reality. But even as he heard the sincerity in Loki's voice, he struggled to truly believe him.

The words that Morgause's illusion had spat at him spiralled round his mind, and he could almost feel the knife cutting back into the skin of his chest and stomach. The knife wielded so enthusiastically by his husband. Not trusting the remnants of his voice, he merely nodded and tore his gaze away from Loki as he wobbled to his feet.

His whole body was trembling, both from the intense trauma he'd suffered and the deliberate cold of the dungeon, and he was pleased that he was even capable of walking up the stairs to freedom - albeit, heavily supported by two of his men. He had to squeeze his eyes tightly shut as soon as they stepped into the light, but his expression lightened as the sun finally hit his skin.

"Where is she?" he croaked, as he squinted across at his husband.