Knightly Affections III

Upon the fifth day of ceremonies and solemnity to honor the fallen heroes of the Allied kingdoms, the remembrance celebrations concluded. Prince Daniel, eager to return to his duties as chief historian and royal archivist, (and also to ‘restore company’ with Sir John), bid his compatriots adieu and mounted his faithful steed, Oroboros. Sitting upright with the authority befitting his station, straight backed and chest out, a solid but gentle grip on the reins and his feet planted firmly in the stirrups, the Prince was a master of equestrian skill. Oroboros, (a gift from Sir John), who possessed a model temperament, was never unruly or less than sure footed but spirited and always ready to serve the Prince in a new adventure. Their trust transcended horse and rider. It was a trust the Prince knew well, one he shared with but one other being…yet in a quite different manifestation.
As he began his ride back to Strathmore Estate, his mind raced ahead of him to conjure what he chanced would be one more night of remembrance and celebration. He fancied the playful innuendo with Sir John that would ensue upon his return. Often, when they reunited after having been apart for more than a few days, it was their custom to use sexually coded language…winks, leering grins and even explicit gestures out of sight of the other courtly insiders. With that thought, Prince Daniel could feel the tightening in his codpiece and his hand lingered there, as he smirked to himself. It was a feverish game…one they both reveled in. And yet even as it heightened the compelling emotions between them, it was also a source of great frustration for the Prince. He knew well that his royal status and social norms would never permit their relationship to be seen as anything but unholy and improper and this saddened him beyond measure. Accepting this however, he made what time he spent with his beloved companion as arousing and treasured as was possible.

The gleaming, gray turrets of Strathmore crested in the horizon as Prince Daniel topped the final summit before descending down into the principality of Providence. The surrounding terrain was lush with late spring growth and the grounds of the estate were well maintained. In addition to providing security for Providence, Sir John also oversaw the care and upkeep of its main fortress, a task he performed with the same dedication and affection he afforded its ruler. Entering the main gates brought the Prince an instant sense of peace and safety and he recognized that had as much to do with its tender as it did with calling it home.

The ride had been long and Oroboros instinctively headed for the stables. As they came into view, Prince Daniel noted the newly thatched barn and tack, the earthy smell of fresh hay and the pristine stalls, all courtesy of Sir John’s supervision. Stopping in front of Oroboros’ stall, the Prince dismounted, unsaddled and guided him inside. Two large, leather buckets of water hung there…one for drinking…the other containing a brush for cooling down the horse. While Oroboros drank, the Prince dipped the brush and ran it over the a****l’s shoulders, flank and down his forelegs. From behind them, a shadow graced the stall doorway advancing slowly until it blocked the incoming light. The Prince startled by the sudden change, rose, turned and beheld a most splendid vision. Standing there, a few feet away, shirtless and wearing only loose trousers and riding boots was Sir John, his well toned silhouette haloed and glistening in the late day sun.
“Greetings, Your Highness”, he said, with a bowed head.
The Prince still stunned by the magnificent presence before him, replied, “Greetings, Sir John”. Composing himself with a wry grin, he added, “I see you’ve been laboring…’quite hard’.”
Amused by Prince Daniel’s comment and playing along, Sir John took a step forward. “Yes Sire…does it please you?”
“Please us? Why, my dear knight…we are close to ecstasy.” the Prince answered adjusting his crotch and taking a reciprocal step.
Glancing down at the Prince’s overt gesture and flicking the air with his tongue, Sir John countered, “Then my work is not yet finished, is it Sire?”
And with that exchange, they could barely stifle the raucous laughter which threatened to betray their intentions. Moving toward one another they clasped forearms…each putting their remaining hand on the shoulder of the other as their penetrating stares and hungry eyes, feasted on the single ‘wicked’ thought between them.

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