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Victory over the Almyran forces brought with it an extravagant feast. One of Almyran proportions, ironically enough. Nader brought with him a wide variety of his kingdom's comforts; from exotic cured meats, to dancers who wore bells on their ankles and hips. The wyverns ate just as well as their riders, who happily and openly bridged the gap between Fodlan and Almyra and struck up conversations and friendly rivalries of arms and music.
Hilda was half mesmerized by it all. The music, the food, the chivalrous competition. She hardly touched her plate of roast beast and mixed vegetables as she took it all in. She was seated beside Holst, who had taken up a brotherly drinking competition with Nader.
The burly Almyran general pushed his chair back and stood mightily, raising his tankard towards the open sky, as though he were toasting the stars themselves, “Another round for everyone!”
A cheer spread over the many trestle tables as servants rushed to fill empty glasses, flagons and tankards.
Claude headed the table, and after finishing his plate he put his feet up and enjoyed the revelry for a while. Hilda kept a close eye on him, her mind a cacophony of questions. Clearly he had been keeping much from his elite soldiers, but from her more than anyone considering their… circumstances .
The pair had become close over the course of the war, perhaps closer than was necessarily appropriate for people of their station and caliber. But Hilda had always found it difficult to ignore Claude’s natural suave, the easiness of the smile that never quite reached his eyes, the clever care with which he approached every situation; all of it was quite appealing to her. And Claude, he was always looking when she wasn’t, eyes flashing with the barest touch of hunger when he watched her train.
So, when they fell into bed together it seemed to be the natural evolution of their relationship. The mystery that had surrounded the Sovereign Duke and his past had been alluring, initially. What was a relationship without a little story to unfold? Hilda had thought.
But now she was long past such sentimentality. She was right and truly confused by the day’s events. The things she had seen and heard through the heat of battle simply were not aligning with the post battle world she inhabited now.
Nervously, she pushed her food around on her plate, giving a small smile as Holst and Nader began to arm wrestle over the center of the table.
It was then that Claude quietly slipped away, all eyes on his generals, save for Hilda’s blush gaze. She watched him retreat away from the festivities, towards his quarters. Moonlight glittered off of the pale gold of his pauldron, and Hilda swallowed thickly as she moved to pursue him.
Holst didn’t notice as she departed, following stiffly in Claude’s tracks.
She found him outside of his small quarters, leaning against a wooden wall with his shoulder. His mossy green eyes peered upward to the stars, which were unobstructed in the gleaming by any clouds. A few streaked the sky as they flew past, leaving white-red trails in their wake.
Hilda rubbed her arms, half because she was cold now that she had stepped away from the roaring bonfires, and half because she was uncertain of herself in this situation. To be truthful, she didn’t often give much in the way of emotional labor.
“Hey,” Claude called to her when she was a few feet off. He didn’t look away from the stars.
“Claude,” Hilda said, and she nudged up beside him, standing closer than a mere comrade would. “Why’d you leave the party?”
The Sovereign Duke gave a thoughtful hum, but ultimately failed to answer her question, “You know, these are the same stars you can see in Almyra at this time of year.”
Hilda stilled. Wringing her hands in front of her, she gave a small sigh, “So you’ve spent time in Almyra, then?”
He finally looked at her, giving her one of those smiles that didn’t touch the depths of his green eyes, “You could say that.”
She puffed her cheeks in response, crossing her arms under her chest, “Claude I need the truth from you. You’re… you’ve been distant, and all of this business with Nader, who are you really? Because I know you aren’t just the Sovereign Duke.”
Claude’s smile fell into a genuine smirk, and he shifted towards her, standing closer than he really needed to, “You know, Hilda, you don’t give yourself enough credit.”
“Just answer me, Claude.”
“Khalid.”
“What?”
“My name, who I really am. Khalid,” his gaze was soft and sincere, smirk falling as he began to explain himself further, “You already know more about me than anyone else, Hilda. I know that I can trust you to keep this information to yourself.”
Hilda swallowed thickly and gave a terse nod. She did know things about him that no one else knew. Things she wouldn’t dare share for fear of discrediting him, even if that discredit would not be fair nor warranted.
“Okay, my lips are sealed,” she said, uncrossing her arms and opening up her stance. “Who is Khalid? Why have you kept it a secret from everyone?”
Khalid took her hand in his. His palms were calloused and warm. And he led her into his quarters, shutting the door softly behind them. He lit a few lamps as she sat primly on the edge of his bed, a place where she had awoken early on many mornings. The sheets smelled familiar, like Claude, or Khalid, floral with a hint of spice. She ran a hand over the blanket, smoothing out the folds as her partner finished lighting the room.
He sat down beside her, taking her hips in his hands he pulled her into a gentle kiss, shuffling her onto his lap.
She kissed him back, chaste and slow. And when they parted she tilted her pink head to the side and asked more gently than before, “Who are you?”
“My mother,” he began, gaze growing distant. He looked like he wanted to hide his face on her shoulder, but refrained from doing so, “My mother was from Fodlan. From the Alliance, like you. But my father, he’s Almyran.”
“Oh,” Hilda relaxed a bit in his embrace, “Claude—
“Khalid when we’re alone, please,” he cut in, then he pressed his forehead to her shoulder, tightening his arms around her waist.
“Khalid,” she corrected herself, “I always knew that , silly.”
She poked him in the chest playfully, “You don’t necessarily look like most people from Fodlan, you know? I just thought you didn’t like to talk about it.”
“I don’t, really,” Khalid replied into her shoulder. His fingers were toying with the waist of her dress, like he might hike it up at any moment.
“Then we don’t have to,” Hilda responded playfully, tugging slightly at this collar. She shifted her head so she could better access his lips, and leaned in to kiss him once more.
“No,” he stopped her, grip tightening on her waist, “You need to hear this. If I’m going to… if we’re going to continue this , then you deserve to know. You’ll find out eventually anyways, one way or another.”
“Oh?” Hilda tensed again, afraid of where the conversation was headed. Sometimes ignorance really was bliss.
“Shahid,” Khalid began, “He was my brother.”
“Oh… oh . Oh Cl— Khalid, I’m so sorry,” then, as the realization dawned on her she sat up straight in his lap. “Wait. Wouldn’t that make you…?”
“The son of the King of Almyra,” his expression was deadly serious, but he held her tighter, like she was the only thing anchoring him to the world in that moment.
“Oh,” Hilda blinked. “But you’re the Sovereign Duke.”
“I am,” he assured her. “And I am also one of the heirs to the throne of Almyra. One step closer to ruling since Shahid… ya know. Not that I want that, I don’t, really.”
Hilda blinked again, entirely incredulous, “Claude I don’t understand.”
Khalid exhaled sharply, shutting his eyes and bowing his head, “I should’ve expected this. Some things never change, huh?”
Hilda shook her head, fingers trembling on his shoulders, “You’re the heir to Almyra? Claude, my family has fought at the Locket for generations. We’re… you and I…”
Khalid silenced her with a kiss, it was heated and ferocious, loaded with emotion which he expressed in the glide of his tongue and the slide of his hands up her back. Hilda was helpless but to kiss him back, because despite everything he had just revealed to her, she still loved him. She loved him. She loved him . An Almyran, the heir to the Almyran throne.
When they parted both of them were red cheeked and panting, Hilda sat squarely in his lap, legs bracketing his hips.
“We can change things,” Claude half begged. “We don’t have to be at odds with one another. I don’t want to be at odds.”
Hilda kissed him several times in quick succession. She didn’t care that his and her families had stood at odds with one another for situations. She didn’t care that their people loathed one another. He was her Claude, her Khalid. She wouldn’t let this break them.
“My dream,” Khalid said between kisses, “My dream is to someday see our two worlds open up to one another. My dream is to see an end to the prejudice of the Church of Seiros. My dream—
Hilda silenced him with another kiss, savoring the taste of mulled wine that lingered on his tongue. She was growing warm and uncomfortable between her thighs, and she shifted to grind her hips on Khalid’s leg.
“My dream,” she puffed when they parted. “My dream is you on your—
“Hush,” the prince grinned against her lips, “I have a surprise for you.”
“Oh? I love surprises,” she wriggled her hips, and he lifted her up, flipping her onto her back and laying her across the bed. His fingers trailed up the pale expanse of her supple thigh, meandering his way to the crotch of her damp panties.
“Wait here,” he exhaled, fingertips barely brushing her core before he lurched backward and onto his feet.
As he rifled through a chest at the foot of his bed Hilda sat up and began to strip, starting with her boots then stripping her dress over her head, leaving her dressed down to a lacy pink bra and a matching pair of very damp panties. Nibbling her lip she reclined back onto the bed, throwing her arms above her head and puffing her chest dramatically.
Khalid, with a sly smile on his face, finally emerged from his chest with a long, slightly curved object in his hand. He presented it to her wordlessly. It was a thing of fine craftsmanship, hitched up to a set of leather straps. It was carved from finished, dark wood, ribbed and ridged down the shaft of it.
Hilda had heard of these before, but she had never seen one in person. It was an artificial phallus, a strap on.
“Are you going to use that on me?” Hilda feigned playful ignorance, touching a finger to the plush of her lower lip. She batted her lashes.
“ I ,” Khalid rested the strap on the bed beside her fingers working deftly at the belts and buckles of his clothing, peeling it away like an unwanted skin, revealing scarred, tawny flesh and lean muscle underneath. “Am going to fuck you like a man.”
He was grinning as he finished shedding his underthings. Hilda hummed, sitting up and grabbing Khalid by his asscheeks. She pulled him forward and pressed a kiss to the pronounced scar beneath each of his pecs.
“You always fuck me like a man,” she replied, falling back onto the mattress. She extended her arms, beckoning him to crawl over her.
Before he acquiesced he lifted the strap from the bed and slung it low over his hips, settling on his front exactly where his cock would be if he had one. It had a backward attachment that pressed into his own center to stimulate him while he made love to Hilda.
“Fine, then I’ll fuck you like a King ,” he declared, crawling up the bed and stroking his faux cock as though it were really attached to him.
Hilda giggled as he tugged her panties down her thighs, tossing the article away, forgotten in some shadowed, dusty corner. He kissed her sternum, and she undid the clasp of her own bra as his large palms shifted under the cups to caress over her large breasts. He shuddered slightly at the soft, yielding flesh, then he kissed her chin and whispered, “You’re so beautiful, Hilda Von Goneril.”
Hilda flushed under his touch, and she cupped the back of his head, tilting him up and craning down to kiss him at the same time.
As they kissed Khalid trailed two fingers down her body, tracing along the curve of her navel and dragging through her downy, pink curls before he reached the dewy folds of her cunt. She was already sopping, hot and wet and ready for him, but he took care to prepare her anyway.
“So wet for me,” he marveled, breaking their kiss and whispering against her lips. Two of his fingers delved into her center, easily sinking into the second knuckle. He crooked them, and earned a soft moan from his lover.
Hilda bucked her hips against him, wanting more . Khalid dragged his fake cock along the bedsheets, stimulating his clit on the wood as he slowly buried his fingers into Hilda up to the hilt. He scissored them inside of her before crooking them again, the rough pads of them repeatedly brushing against an especially sensitive spot that made Hilda throw her head and keen loudly.
“I’m ready!” She bleated, wanting more. More fingers, more girth, more stimulation. All things the faux phallus was ready to give her.
Khalid shifted up her body, sucking one of her nipples into his mouth teasingly before letting go with a wet pop . Then he leveraged himself over her, aligning the wooden cock with her entrance, rubbing the head of the thing through her folds like he could feel the wetness of her.
“Oh fuck, Khalid, please ,” she begged, bucking her hips, and Khalid hissed as he slowly sank into her, giving her time to adjust to the girth of the thing as it stimulated along her inner walls with all of its ribbs and bumps. “Oh fuck!”
Khalid shuddered, burying his face in her shoulder and shutting his eyes as the enlarged nub of his clit was pressed firmly into the wooden back attachment and simultaneously enveloped in the warm wetness of Hilda’s lower lips. The phallus bottomed out and Hilda’s hands shot down, long, well manicured nails digging harshly into his asscheeks and she pressed their needy hips together.
“Oh Goddess,” she panted, rolling her head as Khalid began to cant his hips, “Oh Goddess it’s so big. You’re so big, Khalid.”
He preened at this, nipping playfully at the tender skin of her neck as he began to rut into her pussy with more speed and intention. He was already cumming, overstimulated by the very thought of being inside his love, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t have to. They could go all night with this wooden toy lashed to his hips.
He shuddered with climax, trembling over Hilda as he rutted into her. She dragged her nails up his back as he came, howling her own pleasure as he continued to fuck her with every ounce of strength he possessed.
Sweat beaded on Claude’s temples and it Hilda’s clavicles as they panted through another volley of thrusts. Hilda was sure to cant her hips just right as she returned his movements, knowing how much he loved to get his clit wet when they fucked.
“‘M gonna come, Prince Khalid,” Hilda gasped, “Oh fuck I’m gonna come.”
Khalid dropped a hand between their bodies, circling her clit with the rough pads of his fingers, “Come.” He commanded, voice deceptively soft as he worked red-faced over her.
He was teetering on the edge again, too. She could tell by the line of tension that was his body, the way his arms trembled where they bracketed her, and when she looked between their legs she could see his own wetness spilling out and slickening the strap even more.
“With me,” Hilda insisted as the tension in her middle began to pulsate, “Come with me, Khalid.”
At the sound of his real name on her lips he was sent hurtling over the edge. Burying the strap to the hilt in a few, ultimate thrusts.
Hilda came, too. Vocal as ever as her legs trembled and she came with an unrepentant wail which surely alerted some of the guard.
“Fuck,” Khalid panted, collapsing on top of her, burying his face into her throat. “Fuck, Hilda .”
Hilda laid their numbly, a few trembling aftershocks shaking their way through her core which was still full of the strap. Suddenly the ribs and bumps were overstimulating, and she pushed at Khalid’s hips, silently asking him to pull out.
He did. Sitting up on the bed he undid the straps of the harness and let the thing fall heavily to the floor. Then he laid back on the sheets beside her, pulling a blanket around both of their bodies.
“I think…” Hilda breathed as Khalid laid his head on her chest, absentmindedly playing with her right nipple in the low light of the room.
“What?”
“I think your dream is admirable, Khalid.”
“...this is usually where the ‘but’ comes into play.”
Hilda giggled, carding her fingers through the soft locks of his hair, “No ‘buts’. I just think it's admirable, and I want to help you see it through, if you’ll have me, of course. I’d get it if you said no, considering the history between our people.”
Khalid swallowed thickly, turning his head to kiss her breast, “I always want you with me, Hilda. When you’re by my side, it feels like anything is possible.”
She smiled and kissed his hair, sleep beginning to weigh heavily at her lids. She yawned.
“I love you,” Khalid said softly, already half asleep.
“I love you,” Hilda answered.