algrimthestrong

[algrimthestrong]

Aednan's friends had chosen an especially inconvenient moment to appear, just when Mal had been about to admit that he was glad for his decision to accept Aednan's invitation, and though the elven prince had missed out on one of his favourite games, he was glad, for once, to be able to leave his peers to their own nocturnal amusements. He had a far greater prize on his arm and was in no mood to share.

"I am sorry about Alador. He does not like mortals very much," Aednan explained, silently cursing the fact that Mal's first enounter with Alfheim's residents had been such a rude one. The last thing he wanted was for Mal to not feel welcome. To his relief, Mal did not immediately demand that he take him back to his cottage, which was a good sign. He let go of Mal's shoulder to reach for his hand instead, gently intertwining their fingers as they walked. Alador had been right about one thing, though. Mal was special, and though the red-haired elf was his friend and playmate Aednan did not owe him an explanation, especially when he was still trying to figure out his own attraction to this most unusual mortal in all of Midgard.

"It's a game that we enjoy very much," the prince anwered Mal's question, happy to shift the conversation to a more pleasant subject. "One of us plays the role of prey, whom the others have to try to catch. Getting captured is inevitable, but it's the prey's skill and ingenuity that determines how long the game will last. The one who succeeds in catching the prey gets to pluck their flower." He let out a rapturous sigh. "It's always such an intense and exciting experience." His mouth curved upward in anticipation, eager to see what kind of reaction his revelation would elicit from the other man. Aednan thought it likely that Mal would have been exposed to such pastimes during his time beyond the veil, if not in deed then at least in word or tale. It was rare to come across one of the folk who did not enjoy the thrill of the hunt, after all.

As much as he wanted to linger in the gardens for a little longer and see if he could persuade Mal into letting himself be stolen away to one of the pretty little gazebos dotting the area, Aednan did not want to risk another disturbance by someone who might feel compelled to comment on the prince's choice of companion. They turned onto a side path bordered by opulent clusters of hydrangeas in blue and lilac that eventually led to a flight of stone steps, a shortcut that would take them to a side entrance into the palace. Aednan looked forward to taking Mal into the city and dressing him in the finest attire that gold could buy, but tonight his priority was to charm him out of his clothes. "We'll make our grand entrance tomorrow," the elf promised with a flirtatious smile. "Tonight, I'd like to keep you all to myself, my sweet one."

The beauty of the rose garden alone was dizzying, the heady scent of its large, blousy blooms permeating the evening air as they nodded gently in the breeze. Mal could only imagine just how lovely the rest of it would be as Aednan described it all with such bright, beaming pride, though it was indeed a shame that a week alone would not suffice to see every inch of the gardens that unfurled themselves around the elven palace; the prince’s suggestions would simply have to suffice in the meantime, a soft breath of laughter slipping free as he closed the distance between them and threw his arms around him, gathering the florist into his embrace. “As am I.” Mal admitted, figuring relenting just a little wouldn’t hurt matters. “I think I would have been quite foolish to refu—“

Mal’s gaze was instantly drawn to the gaggle of elves that came spilling out from between the meticulously trimmed topiary hedges, train of thought swiftly abandoned in the wake of their arrival. Every face was impossibly beautiful, albeit flushed with the exertion of their chase, ears long and knife-sharp, bodies willowy and elegant. Had he been unaccustomed to that fae etherealness, the very sight of them would have been enough to make the human florist feel clumsy and underdressed — even their stares bothered him very little when Mal had been accustomed to being ogled back in Faerie — though he didn’t miss the especially sharp assessment he received from one imperious red-headed elf in the group either. Alador, apparently.

If not for Aednan’s swift intervention the smaller man would have had something to say about his disbelieving question himself. What’s so special about this one. The cheek of it!

Supposing he could at least get some satisfaction in knowing that Aednan had chosen him over his peers (and his usual playmates, it seemed) Mal let the prince steer him away, but not before casting a fleeting glance over his shoulder at the bewildered troupe left in their wake. Most of them seemed vaguely amused, but it was hard not to be rankled by the look from Alador that followed them as they left the gardens behind. “That would be nice.” He mused, trying not to let a that eager-eyed elven curiosity get to him, no matter how it chafed to feel like some sort of novelty. “What was that flower chase, all your friends mentioned? A game?”

[algrimthestrong]

Closing the portal between their worlds with a wave of his hand, Aednan gave Mal a moment to acquaint himself with his new surroundings. The wide-eyed wonder on the mortal's face was endearing to behold, so different from the jaunty, self-assured Mal Aednan had come to know, and the elf delighted in watching him take in every detail. Mal had barely seen anything yet and he already seemed in awe of the beauty of the elven realm. "This is my home," Aednan confirmed, the smile on his face blossoming into a proud grin. "This is our rose garden and a favourite place of mine. I thought the Rose of Roseweald would appreciate it," he added, a flirtatious glimmer in his eyes.

"There's a lovely little pond over there and this path leads to a maze," the prince explained, nodding his head in the respective directions. "It would take us days to explore these gardens, but alas, you will only be here for a week and there is so much I wish to show you," Aednan teased, hoping to pique Mal's curiosity enough to make him want to come back again and again. He was the first mortal Aednan had ever invited to his home, the first to spark such wondrous sensations inside him, and the prospect of showing Mal around Alfheim made him giddy with excitement. Aednan threw his arms around the shorter man and pulled him tightly against his body. "I'm so glad you decided to come along!"

A group of elves, flushed and dishevelled, came tumbling out from between two rows of hedges that marked the entrance to the maze, their breathless laughter ceasing abruptly when they spotted the prince and his mortal companion embracing. "Aednan!" A tall elf, whose fiery red hair fell in long, luxurious waves down his back, waved a hand at them. "Where have you been? We missed you during the flower chase." Another elf came up from behind and wrapped his arms around his friend's waist, propping his chin on his shoulder to peer at the pair, his lips curved in a knowing smile. "I think our dear Aednan's been chasing a flower of his own, Alador, and a rather pretty one at that." The redhead's gaze flicked briefly to Mal, assessing him with a quick, sharp glance before returning to Aednan. "But you've never brought a mortal to Alfheim before!" His tone was incredulous. "What's so special about this one?"

"Oh, cease your yammering," Aednan laughed, releasing Mal from his arms. "He is my guest for the next seven days and you will need to find someone else to entertain you during that time. There are plenty of willing flowers for you to pluck." He inclined his head towards his friends, flashing them a playful smile. "Good night." Aednan curled an arm around Mal's shoulder and gently steered him away from the group of elven aristocrats. "Come Mal, let's go inside, I am thinking dinner in my chambers and then a bath?"

Amusing as it was to watch Aednan have to calm his libido in order to harness the focus that he required for summoning a portal to Alfheim, Mal supposed he was at least merciful enough to mention just how much enjoyment he got out of the sight; he could only provide the other man so much, after all. Searching about for his own pair of brown ankle boots, the leather soft and worn with use, he busied himself with tugging them on and tying the laces as Aednan readied himself, rising to his feet and approaching with a fascinated glint shining in blue eyes as he almost tentatively set his hand in his. It was safe to say that this particular form travel was an unfamiliar one, unfamiliar enough that he couldn’t exactly mock the elf for not having mastered teleportation when his own knowledge of magic was so sparse, eyes widening as there was a subtle shift in the air before them, almost like the shimmer of heat on a blisteringly hot day, a glowing, purple-tinged doorway coalescing before them as Aednan murmured an incantation under his breath.

This was it. Giving his cottage one last lingering glance, Mal supposed it was now or never.

As he stepped through the portal, clinging on to Aednan’s hand a little tighter as he did, squeezing his eyes shut for good measure, Mal only dared to breathe once he realised they were safely through to the other side, exhaling in a soft, awed rush of breath as he drank in the utterly beautiful sight unfurling before them. Passing from one realm to another had been as fleeting and as easy as blinking, the cosy interior of his home replaced with lush, sprawling gardens grander than anything he’d ever seen; even the scent of roses on the air seemed all the more dizzyingly sweet, perfuming the fresh evening air and joining the melodic trickle of water from the fountain nearby. All teasing and seduction forgotten, at least for the time being, Mal could only smile.

“This is…it’s beautiful.” He murmured, shaking his head in quiet wonder. Even the palace beyond seemed to resemble a flower — the petals of an orchid, perhaps? — his gaze flickering about as he tried to take in every single little detail when it was all so much more stunning and exquisite than the florist ever could have imagined. Perfect, dare he say. Though he had worried about just how similar Alfheim would be to Faerie, truth be told Aednan’s realm was beyond his wildest expectations already. It looked like something out of a storybook, a pastel-tinted watercolour come to life. “And that’s where you live?”

[algrimthestrong]

The corners of Aednan's mouth dropped pitifully when Mal slid off his lap to sit beside him instead. There had been a few instances in the past where his pleasure had been cut short by unfortunate circumstances or ill-timed interruptions, but never had a lover left him unsatisfied on purpose. It briefly occurred to him that he could have simply suggested that they delay their departure for another hour, but it was plainly written on Mal's face how much he relished the fact that he had the power to make royalty wait. The elven prince reminded himself that the sooner they arrived in Alfheim, the sooner there would be an opportunity for them to pick up where they left off. "Soon," Aednan corrected Mal when the other man stated his intentions to see to the prince's satisfaction, eventually.

Aednan sank back against the chaise, closing his eyes and drawing slow, deep breaths into his chest in an attempt to will his libido to calm down. Being forced to deny himself the release that his body craved was unpleasant to say the least, a rare and entirely unwelcome exercise in exerting control over his physical needs, made all the more difficult by the fact that the object of his desire was sitting next to him.

"I will open an interdimensional portal, yes." Aednan's eyes fluttered open to meet Mal's gaze, his tone slightly sheepish as he explained, "I have yet to master teleportation." He leaned over the arm of the chaise and fished his discarded shirt from the floor of Mal's cottage. The prince swung his legs over the edge of the chaise, pausing to put his shirt back on and shake out his long hair behind him before pushing himself to his feet.

Aednan retrieved his boots from where he had left them by the door and took a few steps into the centre of the room, where he positioned himself and held out a hand for Mal to take. With his other hand, he drew a series of arcane symbols into the air, his brows pinched tightly in concentration as he began to softly recite ancient words in elvish. The air rippled and shimmered as his spell took hold and an arched doorway materialised before them, a glowing purple portal that bridged the distance between their worlds. Flashing Mal a quick, reassuring smile, Aednan pulled the other man with him as he stepped forward through the magical doorway, right into a lush garden.

The rich, sweet scent of roses wafted through the dusky evening air. Crickets chirped in the grass and a gentle breeze rustled through the leaves. A little further ahead, water trickled from the top of a large marble fountain decorated with peacocks to a clear pool at its base. Fireflies, who upon closer inspection would turn out to be faeries, drifted between the flowers and bushes like tiny lanterns. A magnificent palace rose above the trees beyond the garden, its graceful curves and sumptuous whorls reminiscent of an orchid in bloom, nestled between gigantic leaves. Aednan turned towards Mal with a smile, his eyes glimmering in the low light. "Welcome to Alfheim."

Everything?

Well, if Aednan insisted — and that certainly took care of the matter of packing.

For all his initial resistance, Mal couldn’t quite deny just how excited he was by the prospect of seeing the prince’s home for himself, and all the better if the elf had no qualms with spoiling him and catering to his every need whilst he was at it; he figured he would only stand out like a sore thumb in his own clothes after all, no matter how much Aednan seemed to approve of his sartorial choices.

“That’s very generous of you.” He acknowledged with a smile, though it swiftly broadened to a cheeky, boyish grin as the other man’s gaze dipped to his lap, eyeing up his current…predicament trapped between them. As well as feeling awfully pleased with himself (who wouldn’t?) Mal couldn’t help but find the situation utterly hilarious, but not enough that he didn’t take a smidgen of pity on the elf, laughing delightedly at the playful swat of his ass as he slid out of Aednan’s lap and then settled on to the chaise beside him, reaching for his shirt and sliding his arms back into it. “Who said I didn’t intend to finish it?” He added with an arched brow and a teasing curl to his lips as he began to fasten the buttons once more, smirking as he followed the way that the other man’s gaze flickered downwards, then met that sparkling amethyst gaze, utterly unrepentant. “Eventually.”

Trying his best to behave and keep his amusement at bay when Aednan apparently needed his focus to be able to send them between the realms, Mal hoped that a slightly more practical line of enquiry might take the prince’s mind off of more…stimulating matters. “How does this work, then?” He queried, propping his chin on his hand. “Do you make a portal, or something?” Truth be told his only frame of reference was passing to and from Faerie through the nearby tears in the veil, but any sort of magic was fascinating nonetheless.

[algrimthestrong]

The orc looked like a proper brute. Big, green-skinned, and thickly-muscled with a pair of formidable tusks protruding from behind his lower lip. He was one of a group hired by the royal court to act as personal guards to its nobles, and though Aednan could admit that he was not entirely unpleasant to look at in a rugged sort of way, the orc and his brethren stood out among the elven guards like sore thumbs. This one, in particular, seemed to enjoy making fun of him of all people. The audacity! Whenever they happened to pass each other, Aednan could not help but turn up his nose at the coarse fellow, who seemed to have nothing better to do than gawk and grin at him as if he was the first elf with a sense of style to ever cross his path. Thankfully, the orcs had not been chosen for their ability to make conversation (even if this one seemed to feel a need to comment on the dismissive glance Aednan had just flicked in his direction), and there was no denying that they posed an intimidating sight. It was easy to see why people favoured them as bodyguards.

Not deigning to comment on the orc's observation about him, Aednan cut straight to the chase. "I am Prince Aednan and I wish to go into the city – I need a new pair of boots and my mother seems to think I need protection." He rolled his eyes in exasperation. Aednan considered himself perfectly capable of taking care of himself and he was well-loved among the peoples of Alfheim. Surely a few elite guards would have done the job of escorting him into the city just as well. The elven queen, however, had a different opinion. Aednan and his sister were the apples of their parents' eyes. Whatever they wished for, it was granted to them. Well, other than the right to move about freely. One of the newly-hired mercenaries was to accompany the royal siblings everywhere and ensure that no hair on their precious heads was hurt. "You may have heard about the band of trolls raiding the villages near our borders," Aednan continued. "These attacks took place far away from our capital, so I don't understand why I have to put up—" He cut himself short, realising that his complaints would only provide further fuel to the orc, and let out a huff of frustration instead. There was no way around it. His mother had made it clear that he was not to leave the palace grounds without an orcish guard. Hopefully, the warrior assigned to the task would turn out to have better manners than this specimen.

Aednan gave an impatient flick of his hand, as if swatting at an imaginary fly. "I am looking for one Rhythorn among your lot, who is to accompany me on my trip. Just point me in his direction and we need not waste each other's time any longer."

❛What's so funny? Wipe off that smile.❜ (Aednan to Rhythorn)

Rhythorn kept the grin on his face and couldn't help but let out a chuckle. He crossed his arms loosely, stance relaxed. "I'm just wondering how long it'll be before you get used to seeing an orc around here. Every time you look at me you make a face."

He was used to it, but Aednan's face he would pull was more humorous than it had any right to be. Usually, Rhythorn would just ignore people being annoyed by his presence.

Aednan seemed like he'd be fun to tease, though.

[algrimthestrong]

Eyes glittering with triumphant joy, Aednan's grin stretched even wider as he received permission from Mal to make good on his promises. He could not wait to see Mal's reaction to everything, wanted to see him rendered speechless by the beauty and splendour of his home and made breathless by the pleasure he was going to lavish on him. Aednan already had a few ideas as to how the two of them should spend their time, besides the obvious. Mal had told him that he had never learned to swim, so that was unfortunately out of the question, but a lovely romantic boat ride or a long, luxurious bath was definitely something the two of them could indulge in, as was going on a unicorn ride. Mortals were known to possess a boundless fascination with these purest of beings. And of course, Mal needed a new set of clothes – or better yet, several. And perhaps a set of pretty lingerie, if he was so inclined.

"Oh, you don't need to worry about that," Aednan was quick to wave away Mal's concerns. "Everything you could possibly wish for will be provided." He gave Mal a little bounce on his lap, unable to rein in his enthusiasm at Mal's suggestion that they leave immediately. The florist's next question, however, made it clear that he had no intention of resolving the situation he had caused. It was impossible to concentrate with Mal sitting in his lap, pressing against him in a way that was most distracting, loathe as Aednan was to admit it.

"I—I think I need a moment." Aednan's gaze flickered downwards to where the root of his predicament lay. Even as a single traveller, moving between the realms required intense focus and precise control over his mental and physical capabilities, but taking someone along required double the effort. Though he had achieved the goal he had set himself for the evening – Mal half-naked in his arms – he was now faced with the challenge of trying to calm the desire pulsing between his thighs.

"This is your fault." Aednan's gaze slid back up to Mal's face, grinning as he gave him a little swat on the ass, more playful pat than actual punishment. "You shouldn't have started something you do not intend to finish."

It was more satisfying than Mal cared to admit to see Aednan flounder, the prince opening his mouth to complain and then promptly closing it again when he left no room for what no doubt would have been several incredulous protests, the sharp intake in his breath as he settled down in his lap enough to make the florist’s teasing grin grow wider. Fortunately the elf didn’t seem truly irritated by his antics, his confirmation that he would indeed be accepting his offer of a visit to Alfheim enough to see the return of Aednan’s typically joyful demeanour. The exuberant kiss that the other man pressed to his lips was quick to elicit a warm huff of laughter, the playful wickedness in Mal’s smile softening to something slightly more sincere.

“Those are some bold promises.” Mal hummed, unable to resist a little teasing, though there was a certain earnestness written plain in Aednan’s expression that meant he didn’t doubt his dazzling claims for a single moment. It was admittedly rather sweet just how excited the elf seemed to be by the prospect of being able to show him his home — the florist didn’t even dare to think of just how crestfallen he would have been had he refused. “But,” he continued, chuckling softly at the second stolen kiss and its boyish eagerness “I think I shall allow it.” After all, he’d surely be a fool to turn down such a tantalising offer.

“Well, I’ve not had the chance to pack anything yet.” The smaller man insisted, a pleased hum slipping free as those hands on his ass gave an eager squeeze. For all his protests Mal wasn’t entirely sure packing was his first priority, not when Aednan continued to lavish him with kisses and pull him in closer, the two of them skin to skin, but when he thought about it there was a certain thrill to the notion of disappearing into the night with elven royalty to see the beauty of his world. Really, Mal wondered if he’d even need to take anything with him if Aednan was truly going to spoil him so much.

“We could go now, I suppose.” He suggested, head cocked, lips curling as his blue gaze dipped between them and back up again to meet amethyst with a suggestive glitter. “Providing your current…situation isn’t going to be too much of a problem?”

[algrimthestrong]

It was unexpectedly exciting to let a mortal take charge and dictate the pace of an encounter and Aednan would have been happy to yield control to Mal for the moment and see where things took them, but any expectations of further pleasures were brought to a quick end when the other man declared that he had yet to make up his mind about what to do with the aroused prince. Mal's breezy tone of voice did not bode well. Aednan's teeth sank into his bottom lip to stifle a moan of protest when the warm hand between his thighs disappeared and he was left wanting, an incredulous laugh lodging in his throat when Mal chose the moment to bring up the matter of his late arrival once more. How ridiculously petty! Aednan opened his mouth to explain that he had been perfectly on time and that it was Mal who had set the time of the elf's return, but he was given no chance to argue the matter as the florist immediately moved on to the next subject.

As keen as he had initially been to receive Mal's answer to his offer, Aednan would have been happy to continue the course set by the other man for a little longer. Still, the fact that Mal broached the subject of his own accord, even if he used it as a cheeky excuse to deprive Aednan of his touch, was a promising sign. Momentarily distracted from the hot ache between his legs by Mal's announcement, Aednan lapsed into an expectant silence to await his answer. Said answer was only provided after more teasing, Mal's wiggling drawing a swift intake of breath from the elven prince.

When Mal announced his acceptance of Aednan's invitation, the elf's lips curved into a brilliant grin. An entire week with Mal meant there would be plenty of time for them to enjoy the delights of the elven realm - and one another. "I find that most agreeable." Aednan bumped his nose into Mal's as he pressed his lips to the florist's in a hard, exuberant kiss. "You will not regret this. There is so much to see, so much to experience, so many pleasures to enjoy. I am going to satisfy you in ways that you've never been satisfied before. If you'll allow it, that is." Practically vibrating with excitement, Aednan dove forward to steal another quick kiss from Mal. He let his hand on Mal's back slide lower to join the one already cupping his rear, giving the firm cheeks an eager squeeze as he pulled Mal tight against him. "When are we leaving?"

Mal’s smirk was downright wicked as he watched the elf melt into every caress, soft and pliant beneath his hands until he let his touches stray between his legs. The evidence, as Aednan called it, was all too obvious, and the florist could feel him twitching with interest beneath his palm, licking his lips and giving a gentle squeeze as the prince canted his hips into the warmth of his hand. “Oh, I haven’t decided yet.” He hummed, airy and nonchalant precisely because he knew that delaying the inevitable would rile the impatient prince all the more, gaze flickering back up to meet Aednan’s and no longer lingering on the veritable prize that he’d discovered between his thighs.

“You made me wait, if you recall.” The smaller man observed, huffing out a rueful sigh. “And, speaking of decisions…there’s the reason you came here in the first place, isn’t there? Silly me, for letting it slip my mind.” It had been all too easy to get caught up in their little game of seductions, but Aednan had indeed arrived on his doorstep expecting to hear whether or not he planned on accepting his offer — much as he’d enjoyed keeping the elf on tenterhooks, currently it was much more fun withholding touch than it was the answer he’d been pondering over all day.

Slipping his arms around Aednan’s neck once more, and taking the liberty of settling down a little more firmly in his lap, giving a wiggle of his hips to ensure that he was comfortable just for good measure, heedless of whether or not it helped the prince’s current…situation, Mal let his fingers idly card through those long, silken platinum strands, absent-minded as he wound one around his index finger.

“I will come with you to Alfheim.” He said, supposing that much was a reward in itself when he had been dragging on the matter far longer than intended. “For one week — if his highness finds that agreeable?”

[algrimthestrong]

Aednan had never wanted anyone as badly as he did this mortal. Most elves were hedonists, quick to engage in casual flings, giving and receiving pleasure freely and naturally without the constraints of guilt or remorse. Mortals were easily charmed, beautifully honest in their reactions and feelings, yet often inhibited when it came to indulging in carnal amusements, which made it all the more satisfying to help them explore the new and unusual. But Mal was a different breed altogether. Playful, witty, and more sensual than any human he had ever encountered before, the florist was uniquely appealing to Aednan. The elven prince had never gone to such lengths to pursue a mortal, but then, he had never met anyone who seemed worth all that extra effort. All this pouting, and yet he was still here. Indeed.

"I speak the truth and you threaten to punish me for it," Aednan complained. He very much wanted to be kissed. Though it was what Mal said next that made his lips twitch with grudging amusement as the other man took mercy on him and brushed a soft kiss across his mouth. He was spoiled, had never learned to restrain his emotions and desires, and Mal had awakened a hunger in him he was desperate to satisfy. He liked it. He liked Mal—liked being with him, which was precisely what made the wait so much harder. Sex was fun. Mal was fun.

At least, his little taunt had succeeded in goading Mal into action. Aednan exhaled a long, happy sigh and let his eyes slide closed as his face and neck were showered with kisses and Mal's hands began to explore his body. The elf relaxed into the soft, slow caresses, determined to savour the moment while it lasted. But before he had a chance to formulate a reply to Mal's question, one of Mal's hands dipped between his thighs. Aednan's eyes flew open and his breath caught in his throat. His fingers curled against Mal's skin as heat flooded his groin in a rush and he breathed out a sigh of pleasure. "Mm, I suppose I can't hide the evidence." The other man's unexpected boldness made his lips curve into a slow, satisfied grin. Aednan let his hips slide forward into the warm, titillating press of Mal's hand. "Now that I've been found out, what do you intend to do with your discovery?"

Aednan’s protests came as no surprise, and Mal couldn’t find it in himself to be fazed by them when the elf was already treating him to such delectable shivers and that soft purr of approval, revelling in their little game of push and pull. He didn’t even have to ask to know that the other man was probably used to getting whatever he wanted the second he wanted it, such was the way of princes after all, and so the way Mal saw it there was little harm in making him work a little bit. A contented hum slipped free at the feeling of one of Aednan’s soft, warm hands trailing down his spine, goosebumps trailing in its wake, the florist’s lips quirking at the corners as once it reached the end of its journey it settled on his ass. “All this pouting, and yet you’re still here.” He observed, blue eyes glittering with mirth; Mal knew perfectly well when he was wanted, coveted, and Aednan seemed to want him badly — he was half tempted to relent, to perhaps ease up on the elf a little bit and soothe the sting with a few kisses, but then came that low, playful murmur in his ear.

Lazy! The cheek of it.

“It’s almost like you don’t want to be kissed.” Mal playfully observed, a disbelieving huff slipping free, though the grin that unfurled itself across his lips belied the fact that the accusation hadn’t truly offended. Maybe he could be, but only because men were usually falling over themselves to do whatever he wanted with just a well-timed bat of his lashes. Theirs was a different dynamic, one of two people both accustomed to getting their desires without so much effort, but Mal couldn’t help but enjoy the banter and challenge all the same. It was fun, playing with a prince.

“I think we can come to a begrudging consensus that you are spoiled, and I am, occasionally, lazy.” He relented, leaning in close again, brushing his lips feather-light against Aednan’s, reaching up to caress that perfectly chiselled jaw, that impish gleam not fading from his gaze for a single instant. “But you like it, your highness.” Mal slowed then, let his lips follow the path of his fingers, peppering teasing kisses across his face and to his jaw, then down that slender neck, mouthing at the lilac-scented skin there and taking his sweet time as he did so, hands roaming the warm, pale flesh of his chest, then lower still. “Want to know how I know?” Without even waiting for an answer he let his teasing touches stray, palming between his thighs and biting his lip in quiet approval of the size of what he felt there, the murmur into Aednan’s ear breathy and soft and sultry. “I can feel it.”

[algrimthestrong]

Aednan's smile faltered for just a moment when the other man brushed his compliment aside in that particular, vexing way that was so typical of him, stubbornly refusing to accept his musings at face value. Yet, despite his playful jibe, Aednan could tell that Mal revelled in the attention - the physical side of it at least he could not hide, eyes half-lidded with pleasure and soft sounds of enjoyment spurring the elf on in his caresses until he deemed it was time for him to be given some attention in return.

Sprawled back against the chaise, smooth, pale skin glowing in the low light of the fire and amethyst eyes glittering with warmth, few mortals would have been able to resist the epitome of elvish beauty offering himself to them, but to Aednan's chagrin Mal once again proved himself seemingly resistant to his charms, only affording him the lightest of touches. Watching as a single fingertip trailed down his chest, even a touch as small as this was enough to send a shiver of anticipation across Aednan's skin before Mal's question made him lift his gaze back to his face. The elf's brows drew together, both amused and confused by the mortal's query. "I thought I'd given you plenty of opportunity to look at me back at the river," came Aednan's mild protest. While he relished being watched and admired, it was Mal's hands and lips on him that he craved most at he moment. Fortunately, Mal decided to indulge him after all, bare skin pressing against bare skin as he brought his arms around Aednan's neck and their chests together. The teasing scratch of fingernails at the nape of his neck was just light enough to draw a soft purr of approval from Aednan as he slipped his arms around Mal's waist in return.

Aednan could not refute Mal's observation that he was greedy. He was used to having his own way, had grown up wanting for nothing and never having to work for anything. The prince was a glutton for pleasure and Mal was the latest object of his desire. "You said you would not be stingy with your kisses tonight and yet you keep denying me, even though I have been nothing but giving and kind to you." As he spoke, one of his hands began a slow descent along Mal's spine, stroking gently before coming to rest on the swell of his rear, the thin fabric of his trousers the only thing separating Aednan from the warm skin underneath. He brushed his lips lightly against Mal's, then continued along his cheek to murmur in his ear, his tone light and teasing, "Perhaps you're just lazy."

“How long did you work on that line?” Mal countered with an impish smile and a curious tilt of the head, luxuriating in just how delicious it felt simply to be watched, to be admired, amused by Aednan’s musings on adornments and adoration — though, for all he teased, the florist was in firm agreement. There was also a certain softness and sincerity to the elven prince’s words that had him reconsidering just how far he was willing to prod and provoke, the curl of his lips a touch more genuine at that soft brush of lips and ardent murmur of you’re beautiful; truth be told it was sweet, just how complimentary the other man was when he knew now that his praise was so heartfelt.

Baring his neck to the warm press of Aednan’s mouth and then the slickness of his tongue as his ministrations ventured lower, Mal’s blue gaze drooped to something lust-darkened and half-lidded as he watched the elf close his lips around one of his hardened nipples and begin to suck, the attentiveness with which he treated each one enough to coax forth a soft, breathless moan as he licked and sucked on them to the point of oversensitivity. He wanted to thread his fingers in that long, pale mane that spilled over Aednan’s shoulders, to pull him in or push him away or tug hard enough to make the elf moan too, but before he could give in to that particular temptation he pulled away and began to pull off his own shirt.

Satisfied to note that he was not the only one affected by their current activities, drinking in the prince’s darkened gaze, kiss-swollen lips and the flush of rosy colour that had risen to his sharp, high cheekbones, Mal made no effort to hide the way that his own gaze roamed once that bluebell-coloured silk was tossed aside to reveal pale, flawless skin, following the path of those silvery chains that dripped down the valley of his sternum. The florist had to admit that Aednan made quite the lovely picture as he lazily reclined beneath him, every inch a prince in the way he sunk into that easy, inviting sprawl, his gaze glittering with mirth as he absent-mindedly trailed a fingertip down the centre of Aednan’s chest, teasing and feather-light.

“Would it?” Mal hummed, idly twirling the fine silver chain around his finger, half-tempted to tug on it and see if he could pull the prince into another kiss. “What if I’m not done looking?” He leaned in closer at that, relinquishing the necklace and slipping his arms around Aednan’s neck, carding fingers through the silky hair at his nape with just the barest scratch of his nails for good measure. “I think you’re very greedy, your highness.” The florist sighed, feigning ruefulness as he trailed his nose against his, leaned in closer still till they were sharing breaths. “Fortunately for you, I am too.”

[algrimthestrong]

For all that he liked to make a point of showing how much in control he was of his body and its reactions, Aednan could see how much his caresses and the kisses they had shared affected Mal. The sight of the other man flushed and excited, trying to keep his breathing even, was too pretty a picture not to savour it for a moment. Aednan could not help a chuckle as Mal batted away his questing hands. The prince leaned back obediently to watch Mal pull off his shirt and reveal himself to Aednan's gaze sliver by tantalising sliver. The elf took his time to admire the view. A pretty, boyish face framed by unruly chestnut curls that fell to Mal's shoulders, blue eyes vibrant with arousal, and flushed skin peppered with freckles. Aednan reached out and let his fingers slide through the glittering profusion of necklaces that cascaded down Mal's chest. "To adorn yourself is to adore yourself." He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the other man's jaw, smiling as he pulled back. "You're beautiful, Mal. You should always be adored."

No longer content with merely looking, Aednan returned his hands to Mal's torso, stroking gently up and down his sides before settling on his chest once more. "Such lovely buds you have." Aednan smiled, delighting in the way Mal's nipples pressed into his palms. With Mal still perched on his lap, Aednan shifted even closer and began pressing a line of slow kisses down his neck. Mal's skin smelled faintly of flowers and the warmth of it under his lips sent a responding heat tingling along his own skin.

When he arrived at his chest, Aednan glanced up at Mal for permission to proceed. Once obtained, he pressed his lips to a nipple to tenderly kiss it, then laved it with his tongue, light, playful flicks turning to firm strokes before he drew the aroused bud into the wet heat of his mouth. He moaned as he sucked, giving voice to his pleasure. The wait had been torturous and the prince was ecstatic to finally be allowed to feel and taste. There was no telling how far Mal would let him go, but if this was to be the limit Aednan would make sure they both got as much enjoyment out of it as possible. He pulled back with a final kiss, leaving Mal's nipple glistening with wetness, then switched to the other side to bestow the same attentive treatment upon its twin.

By the time he sat back up, Aednan's breathing had become heavier, deeper, and his cheeks had flushed with arousal. He released Mal from his arms and pulled his own shirt over his head and cast it aside, leaving him bare from the waist up save for the necklace he wore, sapphire droplets spilling down his chest to provide an enticing contrast to his fair skin. "It would please me if you touched me, too." The elf's gaze was warm and inviting as he reclined against the chaise.

Of course not, he said. Downright insisted, in fact. But, for all Aednan’s attempts at approaching their encounters with nothing but honesty, somehow Mal sensed that wasn’t completely the truth. Grinning, smirking wide like a cat that had gotten the cream, the florist supposed he could at least merciful enough not to point out that he wasn’t entirely convinced by that prompt, indignant reply. After all, he wasn’t about to run the risk of making the elf halt the gentle, curious exploration currently taking place underneath his shirt, every inch of warm, freckled skin mapped beneath the prince’s palms.

A pleasant shiver rippled through Mal at the close attention he paid to his nipples, a warm pulse of arousal accompanying every roll of them between those slender fingers, breath hitching with sensitivity at the way he tugged on them now and then. He moaned outright as Aednan all but melted into the kiss and licked into his mouth, deepening it further, the slick, filthy slide of tongue against tongue enough to leave the florist pink-cheeked and panting when they finally broke apart. To his mild chagrin (at least in this instance) he had always been easily worked up, quick to be riled even by kisses alone when they were as skilful as Aednan’s, and so he did his best to breathe and recover his composure for a moment, watching with a soft curve of his lips as the other man admired him so unabashedly, fingertips oh-so gently tracing the faint whorls of gold that curled around his temple and the high of one sharp cheekbone. It was odd — nobody had really paid any attention to them before.

“You do, do you?” Mal quipped with an easy smirk, though his playful remark failed to come out with as much snark as it might have ordinarily, tinged with breathlessness as he felt Aednan’s touch linger at the hem of his shirt. Keen to recover some semblance of control when he felt so dangerously close to losing it, he playfully batted away the prince’s hands, reaching for the hem himself and then slowly, tortuously slowly, pulling it up and off over his head, making a sensual show of the act before carelessly tossing the garment aside, over the arm of the chaise. With that first layer between them discarded all the flushed, pale skin that Aednan had been feeling was on full display, nipples hardened to rosy buds, necklaces spilling over prominent collarbones and down the centre of his chest. “There.” He hummed. “Better?”

[algrimthestrong]

"Of course not," came Aednan's prompt reply. He wrinkled his nose at Mal's teasing, but his hands did not stop their slow exploration of the other man's back and chest. Him, jealous of a household brownie (who might or might not get to watch Mal sleep and bathe), the very notion of it was absurd.

Mal's soft sigh was all the encouragement Aednan needed to let his other hand shift to Mal's front as well, carefully skimming up his stomach and ribs, mapping the rises and dips. The skin under his palms was smooth and soft, and Mal's chest was lean but beautifully formed, the gentle curve of it inviting his hands to linger and caress. He took Mal's nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and gently rolled them in a slow rhythm, playfully plucking every once in a while to test Mal's sensitivity, carefully studying every miniscule reaction.

When Mal finally pressed his mouth to his, though not before making a show of deliberating over his request, Aednan swiftly brought his arms around Mal's waist again and pulled him into a tight embrace. The prince leaned into the kiss eagerly and let his eyes drift closed as his tongue delved into the lush sweetness of Mal's mouth. Fortunately, Mal seemed to have realised that Aednan would not be satisfied with another chaste little kiss and the elf gave a hum of pleasure as their meeting of lips turned into something slow and sensual and deep. When they broke apart and Aednan opened his eyes again, a smile raised the corners of his kiss-swollen lips. He reached up with a hand to gently cup Mal's cheek, brushing aside some of his chestnut curls to trace his fingertips along the golden swirls hidden among Mal's freckles. The mark was easy to miss and though he recognised it as a physical manifestation of the gift Mal had been given, Aednan would not make the same mistake twice and let his curiosity get in the way of whatever pleasures he could wring from their encounter. Instead, he decided to push forward in his attempt to cajole Mal into showing some skin.

Aednan drew back just enough so that he could lower both hands to the hem of Mal's shirt. He gripped the fabric and tugged upwards playfully to expose a sliver of pale skin at Mal's hips before pausing to announce his wishes. "I desire to look at you. Let me see how beautiful you are, petal."

Aednan’s hands were pleasantly soft and warm where they ventured beneath his shirt, gentle in their caresses as the elf seemed to task himself with acquainting himself with as much bare skin as possible. The soothing stroke abruptly stopped as the other man’s reverie was quickly broken, Mal’s amusement more than plain as his lips curled at the sound of his impatient whine. “Do I detect a hint of bitterness there, your highness?” He pondered, the mischievous glint in his eye and the curve of smile practically fey in nature as he met that amethyst gaze with his own. Mal couldn’t exactly refute being the resident faerie favourite as the prince so aptly put it, it indeed seemed as if he attracted them wherever he went, but it was this elfin creature in particular that he was most keen on entertaining.

Perhaps it was bold of him, but he rather liked to think he was already Aednan’s favourite — he’d certainly gone out of his way to pursue him at every opportunity after all. “Are you jealous, perhaps?”

Satisfied to feel Aednan’s hands resuming their wandering, a soft hum of pleasure slipped free at the brush of his thumb over his nipple, a touch so light that it almost might have seemed accidental, if not for the fact that the elf seemed to watch him so intently. “Mm, I was, wasn’t I?” He agreed, almost absent minded. After a moment of playful consideration, just to make the other man squirm, he leaned in close once more, lashes fluttering as his eyes drifted shut and he connected their lips. This second kiss was slower, less playful, and the florist allowed it to linger, almost as if it was in apology.

[algrimthestrong]

Mal admitting to his expensive taste so freely brought a gleam of amusement to Aednan's eyes. Usually, mortals were over the moon at every small kindness the elven prince extended to them, but not so Mal. The cheeky florist claimed to be well accustomed to being spoiled, which was very unusual for a commoner, but Aednan thought it likely that Mal's fae paramour (at this point, he was all but sure that Mal's connection to the fair folk had been romantic in nature) had played a crucial part in shaping his taste. On the other hand, champagne had been a novelty to him, and Aednan was pleased that he had been the one to introduce Mal to it. To the prince, it was important that Mal recognised the effort he put into wooing him, that he appreciated his generosity and kind gestures, and that he reciprocated in kind. Being allowed to let his hands roam beneath the flimsy fabric of Mal's shirt was a start, at least, and Aednan wasted no time exploring once Mal had given his assent, his hands trailing up and down Mal's spine, stroking slowly and sensually, revelling in the feel of warm, naked skin under his palms.

It had, admittedly, not been the best time to give in to his curiosity, but Mal's cockiness had riled him up a little, had made him reckless and eager to point out the hypocrisy in his attitude towards elves and faeries. Aednan's eyebrows twitched and a whine rose in his throat when Mal drew back, breaking off the almost-kiss to answer his question instead. He'd been so close! Frustrated, Aednan's gaze lingered on Mal's lips as he listened to him speak of the arrangement he had with the little creature who kept his cottage in order. It was striking how Mal seemed to attract magical beings. Perhaps he was a Sunday child, born with a natural connection to the invisible world. "Are they?" Aednan met Mal's gaze again, his mouth drawn in a pout, having been robbed of a kiss. If angered, the small folk could be just as vicious and vindictive as their taller relatives. "If you say so. You are the resident faerie favourite, after all."

With one hand on Mal's back to keep him from further retreating, Aednan let his other hand snake around Mal's side, stroking slowly up his ribcage to his chest. Aednan watched Mal carefully as he brushed his thumb over a nipple. Perhaps he could entice him into taking off his shirt, so his lips might follow his hands in exploring? Deciding that this was to be his goal for the night, Aednan's grin renewed itself. "Now, I believe you were about to kiss me?"

Mal’s lips quirked in amusement at the feeling of Aednan shifting about underneath him, the elven prince’s enjoyment at his current perch more than plain in that delighted grin he flashed his way, though the florist huffed out a chuckle as it faltered, the other man playing at pouting, princely dissatisfaction. “Really? I’m flattered.” He hummed, under no illusions that he was indeed worthy of such a gift, even if it did cost a small fortune — whatever that constituted in the eyes of royalty, anyway. There hadn’t really been any need to spend so much on him, but the smaller man wasn’t about to complain.

“I do have expensive taste.” The florist admitted with a warm glimmer of amusement in his eyes, gaze flitting back to the hairbrush. It was rather beautiful, the sort of thing that probably wasn’t found in a humble little cottage otherwise, and clearly very well made. “So perhaps I shouldn’t be so stingy with my kisses, hm?” Though he did not connect their lips right away Mal began to lean in once more, humming his assent as Aednan’s hand caressed slowly down his back, lingering at the hem of his shirt as he awaited permission to let it dip beneath. The way he saw it there wasn’t any harm in allowing the elf a little more freedom to touch, not when they were tucked away from prying eyes and gossiping tongues, though it was the prince’s question that had him stopping short, just shy of pressing his mouth against Aednan’s once more, eyes flashing open.

What a foolish question at a time like this!

Huffing out a soft sigh, Mal drew back. “I take it you’ve noticed, then.” He mused, a wry twitch to his lips. “I know it makes me sound like an awful hypocrite, but he came with the cottage, so I wasn’t about to toss him out.” Him being a brownie of some sort, whom the florist had managed to placate after the previous owners of the cottage had left, apparently not having understood all the ways in which they’d offended him — Mal very rarely saw Bramble, as he’d come to name him in his head, but he was quite content with that. The two of them had an arrangement after all, and village life quite suited the little creature. “The small folk are different.” He insisted. “And this way, we’re both happy.”

[algrimthestrong]

Aednan's gaze shifted to the side to follow Mal's movements as he set the hairbrush down, then snapped back to his companion in wide-eyed delight when Mal slid forward into his lap in a surprisingly bold move. His invitation had been for Mal to sit beside him, but this was much, much better. Eager to help Mal settle, Aednan wrapped his arms around his waist. His hips shifted under him, twitching with the urge to press even closer. Mal's proximity was delicious, the tantalising press of his body almost a little too distracting for Aednan as he listened to him praise his gift. When Mal declared his intention to thank him properly, the elf could not keep his grin at bay, knowing he was in for a treat at last, and though the kiss that followed was nice and sweet it was over before it had really begun.

"A little," Aednan sighed, his brow furrowing as he met Mal's gaze. "A hairbrush as fine as this costs a small fortune, you know." And Mal was worth every piece of gold he had spent on it. Hoping that his admission would be enough to coax another kiss out of Mal, hopefully one that lingered, Aednan found it amusing how the other man appeared to be so much more confident playing the part of the coquette than he had been with Aednan on his lap at the fountain. It would be interesting to see how Mal would react to being pushed out of his comfort zone, but that would come much later. For the time being, Aednan was enjoying the chase too much. Tucked away in the privacy of Mal's cottage, he felt that it was safe to test the waters, see if Mal would permit more than just kisses. He let one of his hands drift lower on Mal's back in a slow caress, until he arrived at the hem of his shirt. His fingers played at the silky material. "May I?" The prince flashed a questioning grin at Mal.

There was still the subject of Mal's visit to be discussed, but first Aednan wanted to address something he'd noticed as soon as he'd stepped across the threshold of Mal's cottage - the glimmer of magic dancing around every surface, revealing the presence of a household spirit. It was a rather curious discovery, and a contradiction. For all he had insisted that he did not want anything to do with the fair folk back when Aednan had stopped by his stall, Mal did not seem above engaging them for menial work. "Who tends to your house anyway?"

It was utterly delightful to watch that regal composure falter in favour of a pout, Mal’s enjoyment at the other man’s torment quite plain in the broadening of his smile, a warm glitter of mirth in his eyes as he watched Aednan quickly try to recover. It was amusing how he seemed entirely undeterred by his taunts once the moment of indignation passed, and the florist’s lips quirked as he watched that amethyst gaze unabashedly dip lower, until the elf was practically peering down his shirt.

“My eyes are up here, your highness.” Mal snickered, not especially vehement in his protests; between Aednan’s very open appreciation and the compliments the prince had continued to lavish him with, he couldn’t deny the fact that he made a wonderful houseguest.

Well, wonderful for his ego anyway.

Straightening only to carefully set the hairbrush aside on the little side table beside the chaise, the smaller man hummed in thought as his supposed rudeness was pointed out. “I was getting to it.” Came his matter-of-fact insistence, a mischievous glint in Mal’s eyes as he slid into Aednan’s lap in one fluid motion, knees sinking into the plush velvet either side of his hips as he met the other man’s gaze once more. “It‘s a lovely gift.” He assured, sincere more so than playful, if only for the moment. The last thing he wanted was for the elf to think he didn’t appreciate his generosity, after all. “As a matter of fact, allow me to thank you properly…”

Mal leaned in closer at that, eyes dipping shut as he captured Aednan’s lips with his own, kissing him sweetly before drawing back enough that he could gauge the other man’s response. “Better?”

[algrimthestrong]

Aednan counted on Mal to appreciate the artful display as he arranged himself on the chaise for his host's viewing pleasure – at the very least, the grin with which Mal watched him from across the room seemed to suggest that he had seen through Aednan's intentions, apparently aware of how much effort he was putting into looking his best for him. Even if his carefully selected outfit was not enough to seduce the other man into paying him a compliment, the prospect of a gift ensured that Mal's full attention was on him. Aednan watched closely as the florist opened his present, studying his face for his reaction as the hairbrush was revealed to him. Warm satisfaction swept over him at the sight of the smile that edged its way onto Mal's face as he turned the object over in his hands to admire its fine craftsmanship. "It's exquisite, isn't it? Oh, and you can keep the scarf it was wrapped in, too, of course." Hopeful that his gift had earned him Mal's favour for the hours ahead, he relaxed back against his seat in anticipation of his company, only to discover a moment later that Mal had found another way to torment him.

Aednan glanced up at Mal as he leaned over him, those kissable lips hovering just out of reach. A shadow of a pout quickly gave way to amusement at the teasing query. Never had he met a mortal as unpredictable and gloriously impudent, never known such a consuming craving for a human before. The newness and challenge of it fascinated him as much as it tried his patience.

"You're quite perfect as you are, petal," Aednan purred. His gaze shifted from Mal's eyes to his lips, then continued down to his chest to peer into the gap of his shirt, where the pale, freckled skin of his chest beckoned his lips and he could just make out the buds of his nipples under the thin fabric. If he was to be kept on tenterhooks, he might as well use the moment to savour the view up-close. "Your hair looks lovely, and so does the rest of you," Aednan continued, his gaze drifting back up to Mal's face, "at least what I can see of it. I thought you would appreciate a little help in maintaining those beautiful curls of yours." The prince tipped his head back further and his lips twitched into a haughty smile. "Since you seem so intent on finding fault with my manners tonight, let me say that I find it awfully rude if one is given a precious gift but lacks the decorum to properly thank the generous giver."

There was a certain easy saunter to Mal’s gait that suggested he knew perfectly well just how lovely he looked, something that tended to apply wherever he went, a pleased smile unfurling itself across his lips as Aednan complimented him on his eye for decor; this was a particularly welcome observation, and he couldn’t help but feel a thrill that his home had gotten the approval of royalty, no less a royal with such exceedingly good taste. It seemed the prince knew just how to flatter him, and though he wasn’t naive enough to think that the other man had come to his door without an ulterior motive, Mal liked to think he could sense that the praise was genuine.

Speaking of great taste, it was almost as if the elf made a deliberate show of revealing the ensemble hidden beneath his cloak, a silvery vision in a shade of blue that seemed perfectly matched to the colour of the bluebells beginning to flower in the woodlands beyond the borders of the sleepy little village — this Mal only knew because there happened to be an old inkwell filled with the dainty, nodding blooms upon the mantlepiece (a happy accident, it seemed) the perfect companion to the enchanting tableau that Aednan made of himself as he settled upon the pink velvet chaise, positioned at just the right angle for the fading light pouring in through the windows to catch the glow of his skin and the glint of fine elvish silver at his throat. As ravishing a sight he made, the effort and sheer meticulousness of it was enough to make his lips curl in wry amusement as he regarded the elf from afar, meandering closer as the gift was finally offered towards him.

“I suppose that’s a fair trade.” Mal hummed. “If it pleases me.” Even the silk scarf that the present was wrapped in was beautiful, and unable to resist the temptation he trailed his fingers through the smooth, gossamer-like fabric, stroking and appreciating it ss he began unwrapping its contents. The hairbrush that was revealed was finer than anything that could possibly be made by mortal hands, its ivory handle fitting perfectly into his hand. The carvings were exquisite, a more sincere smile springing to life as he admired the motif of the unicorn surrounded by roses, a pattern of intricate briars tying together the whole design. There was even the faintest waft of rose petals from the perfumed bristles, the likes of which the florist assumed was some kind of enchantment.

“It’s beautiful.” He murmured, a mischievous gleam shining in blue eyes as he wandered over to the chaise and stood before the elf, regarding him with a teasing smile as he took advantage of being above him, leaning in closer as if dangling the prospect of a kiss just out of reach. “I take it you’re not trying to insinuate that I should brush my hair more, Prince Aednan? Because that would be awfully rude of you — and definitely not deserving of a kiss.”

[algrimthestrong]

Taking Niamh on an outing, even if it was just a stroll across the market, was an indulgence Algrim knew he ought to permit himself more often. During the past few weeks he had been all but shackled to his study and it was the queen's gentle reminder that duty must never eclipse personal happiness that had finally shaken him from his singular focus. Absorbed in his work as he had been, the days had passed in a blur of council meetings and negotiations with dignitaries from other realms, and the realisation of how long it had been since he had last seen his lover hit him with a sudden, nauseating intensity that left him riddled with guilt, painfully reminding him of past losses and how important it was to savour every moment spent in the company of people dear to his heart.

Fortunately, Niamh was nothing if not forgiving. Their love had been a miracle to begin with, something the dark elf had never deemed possible to have again, which made it all the more important to hold onto it and cherish Niamh as she deserved. Happy to let himself be led from stall to stall by his lover, Algrim found her liveliness and sheer joy of being with him a desperately-needed balm to his conscience. He loved watching her eyes sparke and seeing her cheeks stretched wide by her smile as she found enjoyment in the smallest of things. It was everything he needed to put his priorities into perspective. What did it matter if a contract was signed a day late or a royal decree took another week to release? It was moments like this that made life worth living again, not some higher cause to dedicate himself to in hopes of giving meaning to his existence as the last of his kin, and it was a sudden newfound sense of recklessness that made him pull Niamh into a quiet side street, cloak them both in shadow, and kiss her with all the passion he had withheld for so long.

"I have missed you." Algrim leaned down for another long, indulgent kiss, sighing his contentment against the selkie's lips. "I am just glad to see you so happy, to be able to spend time with you. I have treated you terribly and it is time I made amends. Forgive this fool of an elf." He reached for her hand and guided it to his lips to brush a kiss across the back of it. "Is there anything that caught your eye?" He nodded in the direction of the market, determined to indulge her every whim, be it material, physical, or emotional. He would give her whatever she wanted today. Morning had barely broken and they had the whole day ahead of them. They could even go as far as the sea if Niamh wished it. Let the court deal with his absence today, he had more important matters to see to.

heart of darkness: sender cloaks themselves and the receiver in shadows so they can kiss in public.

It wasn't often that Niamh could get Algrim to take a small excursion out of the castle, but it wasn't his fault. He was often busy with meetings or tutoring the young princes, while she was busy with her music. Today, though, the two of them were able go out together and peruse the market. Niamh couldn't help but flit from booth to booth, drawn in by shinies and baubles. Eventually, though, they needed a break from the crowd, and slipped into the opening of an alleyway for a reprieve.

When the shadows began to coalesce around them, Niamh was confused, at least until Algrim pulled her close and kissed her. She leaned into it with a happy hum, reaching up to curl her fingers into his clothing.

After they parted, she tilted her head a bit, though she was smiling. "What was that for?"

@algrimthestrong

[algrimthestrong]

It felt like a dream – the most beautiful dream that Aednan's imagination could have ever conjured up. But it was real. As real as the warmth of Loki's hand in his as they stood before their gathered families. His mother looked resplendent, clad in a gossamer gown made of moonlight and sea foam, folds of silk so light and delicate they barely had any substance. His father was a quiet presence at her side, yielding the honour of conducting the binding ceremony to his queen, yet smiling upon his son and his betrothed with a radiance that rivalled the sun in the sky.

Algrim had taken the spot in the middle between both families, noble and proud as the last of his kind, who had helped build a bridge between Elves and Aesir. Though his own people were no more, the elves lived on in Alfheim, and the marriage between Loki and Aednan would bring the realms closer together than they had ever been before. With Loki and Aednan helping their siblings carry the burden of the crown, he was hopeful that the tragedies of the past would never again be repeated.

Returning Odin's nod, Aednan felt the tension inside him abate ever so slightly, relieved that the All-Father seemed to have made his peace with their union. Though Odin had never held back with his opinion on their relationship, there was no mistaking the love for his son in his gaze. Aednan was not sure if he would ever truly manage to prove himself a worthy husband to Loki in the eye of Odin, but he would strive to make each day a happy one for his beloved.

"Thank you, mother. Loki and I could not be happier to be here today." Aednan's voice was firm with the most important decision of his life. Never before had the path ahead seemed more clear, never had he been more certain of anything than he was of the fact that he was in love with Loki. Loki was his only future.

The elven queen nodded for the two princes to raise their joined hands and begin the ceremony. "With this cord, I bind you to the oath of love you have made to each other," she began reciting the ceremonial blessings. "As your hands are bound together, so shall your fates be bound as one forever." Gently, she began to loop the golden cord around their hands. "Loki Odinson of Asgard, I trust you with this son of mine, who is my life and my spirit. Today, you are taking into your care the love and happiness of Aednan Featherwine, prince of Alfheim. You shall share in all things, all joys and burdens. He is to be your partner in life, to love and honour today, tomorrow, and forever."

Aednan watched in quiet awe as his mother wound the golden cord around their clasped hands. His eyes glistened with wetness as he lifted his gaze to Loki's, struggling to hold in the rush of emotions that threatened to spill down his cheeks. "Loki Odinson, as I have given you my hand to hold, so I give you my love to keep." His fingers curled even tighter around Loki's hand. "I choose you to be my husband, this day and forevermore."

Though it was tempting to try and eavesdrop on Thor and Aelsa as their little troupe took to the palace corridors, able to hear his sibling endeavouring to make small talk somewhere behind him, Loki found that with every step they took the nervous excitement building inside him was harder and harder to contain, heart fluttering fast as a hummingbird’s wing as they emerged out on to the terrace and the palace gardens unfurled before them.

As he glanced at Aednan the dark-haired prince could picture the evening that the two of them had met as clear as day, could recall the two of them grinning and giggling like teenagers as they hurried down these very steps and towards the willow tree beneath the deep, velvety night sky, picture their moonlit tryst beneath its fronts — even the memory of having to escape at the sound of Thor’s voice echoing down from the top of the steps was something he could look back on with fond amusement now.

His heart had been thundering in his chest back then too as he’d fled, not quite able to keep his giddy smile at bay, not able to stop thinking about the elf now stood at his side. Loki never could have anticipated what would come of that night, how they’d find themselves in the very same place about to be joined forever.

Exhaling a deep breath to settle himself, returning Aednan’s smile with one of his own, his expression warmed as they were first greeted by his mother. “Thank you.” He murmured, tried to keep at bay the sudden intense swell of emotion at seeing both their families gathered, eyes wet as he set eyes on his own mother in the small crowd that had gathered. They would all become one family, today. It was a wonderful thing to think about, when Aednan’s parents and sister had made him so welcome whenever he was in Alfheim, cared for him like he was their own, when Frigga adored Aednan for how much joy he’d brought into their lives. Loki liked to think even his father had come to accept that the elven prince was simply part of their lives now, returning the small nod that Odin offered as they arrived.

It was time.

[algrimthestrong]

Aednan's grin broadened, pleased that his mention of a gift had succeeded in winning him an invitation into Mal's living space – a rare honour, if Mal was to be believed. He followed Mal inside, pausing to pull the door closed behind him and take off his boots. "You look lovely tonight, by the way," the elf offered, his gaze dipping down to Mal's rear as he walked behind the shorter man.

The fire burning in the hearth provided both light and warmth and Aednan took in the florist's home curiously. Of course, the space was small – the entirety of Mal's cottage did not cover even half the space of Aednan's bedroom and would have fit several times over into the suite of rooms the prince occupied, but it was clean and cosy and the mix of styles in furniture and decorations revealed a taste that was far more refined than one would expect to find among simple countryfolk. There were flowers and plants everywhere, beautifully arranged on tables and windowsills, adding to the charm of the place with their lush colours and heady scent. "You have an eye for pretty things," Aednan remarked as he stopped to take a closer look at a tapestry with a botanical motif.

In Mal's living room, Aednan's attention was immediately drawn towards the seating area and he quickly decided that the pink chaise in the centre would belong to him for the evening, preferably with Mal nestled against him. The elf strode towards his chosen seat and took off his cloak to drape it over the back of the double armchair, revealing a dangerously low-cut shirt the colour of bluebells, paired with dark trousers. His neck was adorned with a delicate silver chain from which shimmering droplets of sapphire rained down across his collarbone and on his fingers glittered an assortment of fine rings.

At Mal's insistence that he be shown his gift, Aednan's lips curled impishly. "Ah, but you haven't kissed me yet." While Mal had elegantly sidestepped his request earlier, Aednan was not about to give up so easily. He sat down on the chaise and retrieved the silk-wrapped hairbrush. He held his gift out towards Mal, beckoning him to take it. "How about this: You shall have it now and if it pleases you, you will join me here." The prince patted the space next to him, his eyes aglitter with mirth.

“To the very minute, apparently.” Mal snickered, revelling in the way that Aednan’s amethyst gaze seemed to appreciatively drink him in, practically able to feel the weight of it as his attention lingered on the tantalising glimpses of bare skin offered up by his plunging neckline and rolled-up sleeves; he hadn’t bothered with getting dressed up when he’d realised that the elf had no intention of showing till evening fell, clad in a soft floral shirt and wide-legged linen culottes, feet bare upon the floorboards. There was something heady and palpable in the air between them already as they lingered on his doorstep, and Mal savoured it just as much as he had the champagne the day before.

Curiosity immediately piqued by Aednan’s mention of a gift, though the prince frustratingly kept said gift close to his chest after allowing the briefest glimpse, Mal’s gaze gleamed with warm amusement as he was informed of the customs in Alfheim — there was certainly no doubt in his mind that the other man was eager to partake of his hospitality, as he so elegantly put it. “In that case, come inside your highness.” He chuckled, turning on his heel and leading the way with a smirk unfurling itself across his lips.

The cottage itself was small, but light and airy with its latticed windows, the rustic walls and floors softened with rugs and tapestries that helped lend a touch of sumptuousness to the space. His living room was cosy with its pink velvet chaise and mismatched armchairs draped with blankets and embroidered cushions, a fire flickering away in the hearth to keep the evening chill at bay, bottles and jars filled with flowers freshly cut from the garden adorning his kitchen table and every windowsill.

“Make yourself at home.” Mal hummed, curious to see what Aednan would think of it all when it was worlds away from an elvish palace. “Now, how about this gift?”

[algrimthestrong]

Aednan's lips curled with amusement at Mal's jest; he had the distinct feeling that his host was taking quite a bit longer to make his way to the door than was reasonable. Just as he was about to give in to his mounting impatience and give another knock, the door swung open and revealed the slender silhouette of his favourite mortal. The wicked grin on Mal's face made it clear that his tarrying had been entirely intentional, but any pretence of indignation about being made to wait was swiftly dropped when Aednan found himself subjected to an unexpected admonishment from Mal.

"You think it's rude that I respected your wishes?" The elf's lips curved with sweet innocence. His gaze roamed the length of Mal's body, drinking in any revealed skin, mesmerised by the stream of freckles that trailed from his collarbone down towards his chest, where it disappeared behind the thin fabric of his shirt. Mal had quite the nerve to complain about the wait when he was the one who had set the rules for Aednan's return. Aednan resisted the impulse to ask Mal if he had been pining for him all day and decided to employ a different tactic instead.

Mal seemed to be in a playful mood, and Aednan was always happy to play.

"Will you forgive me and invite me inside if I tell you that I have brought you a gift?" From between the folds of his cloak the prince pulled forth an object wrapped in a fine, green silk scarf, around which a ribbon had been tied to keep its content a secret. He held it up for Mal to see, then swiftly pulled it back against his chest before the other man could try to reach for it. "Where I come from, it is customary for a visitor to present their host with a gift," he informed Mal. "The gracious host, in turn, is obliged to invite the visitor into their home and let them partake of their hospitality." The curve of his mouth turned sly. "I think a kiss would be a good start."

The goodnight kiss had tasted like victory, but as a new day dawned and Aednan did not appear perfectly coiffed on his doorstep the second the sun was up Mal swiftly realised that he wasn’t the only one capable of playing games. He ought to have anticipated it, in a way — he had asked for a day and the elf had given exactly that — though the florist was yet to decide whether the prince had done it because he felt duty-bound to keep his promise, or because he wanted to make him wait; Mal was not too proud to admit that he would have chosen the latter, had he been in the other man’s position.

So, to his mild disappointment and consternation, the day passed uneventfully. He found that he couldn’t be entirely displeased, when he’d mulled over the specifics of their conversation Mal had simply thought well played when he realised just how literally the instruction had been taken, and in truth it only made him all the more eager to see the elf again and find a way to get him back.

Well, to get him back and maybe steal a kiss or two as well.

When a knock sounded on his door that evening, right on cue, Mal’s lips curled. “I’m not here!” He called, taking his sweet time as he pushed himself off the pink velvet loveseat by the fire and sauntered his way towards the front door, making a point of making the prince wait just a few moments too long before he answered it, flashing a wicked smirk as it swung open. “It’s a little late for visitors, don’t you think?” Mal observed, leaning in the doorway, unable to resist the jest as the slant of his smile broadened to a grin. “Personally, I think it’s rather rude to keep someone waiting.”