Emir/Ivan Part 12
Dec. 7th, 2018 09:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
emirandivanFirst posted here.
Emir awoke slowly that morning. Firstly because this bed was incredibly comfortable, and secondly, because his new husband was curled up next to him with an arm casually thrown across his chest. Emir couldn’t move and didn’t really want to. He looked down at Ivan whose long lashes swept his slightly flushed cheeks, bright hair spilling across the pillow. He looked so youthful in sleep that Emir found it almost impossible to think that he’d been so assuredly fucked by him last night, Emir could still feel a physical ache from it all these hours later.
He could hear small sounds of Palace life in the rooms beyond this one, and realised he had no idea what time it was. If he could just see the clock on the mantle...
He shifted a tiny amount and Ivan stirred.
“Why do you always get up so early?” Ivan mumbled. “You can’t need to go to the mews already. She’ll be fine.” He patted Emir’s chest and rolled over. “Just sleep.”
Emir hadn’t any idea what Ivan was talking about. A strange dream perhaps. He sat up very carefully.
“If you have to go, go then,” Ivan said, still curled on his side, facing away. “But if you come back quickly I’ll suck you off so hard you’ll give up your commission.” He chuckled to himself and nestled down further into the pillow.
Emir froze, Ivan’s words sinking in. Oh gods. He stared down at Ivan in horror, but Ivan seemed to be deeply asleep again. Emir had to get away before he woke properly, he should never have let himself fall asleep there. What must Ivan have thought of him?
He got out of bed in one swift movement. Taking a moment to orient himself, he found the door to Ivan’s dressing room, which connected to his own. One of his attendants was there.
“I wish to bathe,” Emir said abruptly. “And...and dress. And please find out what happens about breakfast.”
“Yes, your highness,” said the attendant, looking a little startled at the flurry of commands, and fled to fulfill them.
Emir sat on a chair and buried his face in his hands, his thoughts whirling. How awful to be mistaken for Ivan’s lover. Thank heavens Ivan hadn’t woken properly and realised his mistake. Emir had expected to make social errors, of course, not being used to the Court here - but to make one of such a personal nature was mortifying. And he had known that spending the night was wrong, even though Ivan had seemed so welcoming. He had taken advantage of Ivan’s friendly nature in the most dreadful of ways.
Ivan would forgive it, he was sure. But Emir would have to be very careful in future not to allow himself to indulge in such intimacies.
He looked up as his attendant returned.
“Sire, Prince Ivan invites you to accompany him to breakfast in the Marble Room,” he said. “And um,” the man reddened a little. “He wished you to be warned that his brothers would most likely be there.”
Emir couldn’t help a relieved smile. “Please tell him it would be my pleasure,” he said.
Ivan was waiting for him by the window at the end of the hall when Emir finished dressing. He looked even lovelier in the soft morning light than he had by candlelight the night before and Emir allowed himself to stare a little. His husband.
“Good morning,” Ivan said, opening his arms a little, then putting them firmly behind his back. “You disappeared.”
“Only to dress,” Emir said. “I do apologise if I disturbed you as I left. I should have returned to my own chamber after the ceremony, of course.” He knew he was being stiff and awkward, but Ivan didn’t seem to notice.
“You went out like a light,” he said with a grin. “Many men do, don’t they? I’m always full of energy afterwards, I’m sure it must be very annoying if you’re the opposite.”
Emir hadn’t any idea what many men did, but at least Ivan was excusing his error on the grounds of sleepiness. Perhaps Ivan always exhausted his lovers like that. The way he had moved… Emir felt a flash of remembrance which heated his whole body. He caught Ivan’s eye, and swallowed.
“Yes I do have that tendency,” he said, trying to match Ivan’s light tone. “It’s just as well it won’t be repeated, as I’m sure it’s quite inconvenient for everyone involved.”
Ivan blinked, his smile fading. “You weren’t an inconvenience,” he said.
“So,” said Emir, breaking the lengthening silence. “Which is the Marble Room?”
“Oh it’s the most ugly of our dining rooms,” Ivan said, his lighthearted tone returning as he turned towards the staircase. “What better place to start the day? I’m sure you’ll enjoy the mural of the Gods devouring our enemies; I find it aids the digestion.”
“Sounds tasteful,” Emir said. “Shall all your family be there?”
“I expect so, though we’re late enough that Peter might have already breakfasted. He does like to make the most of the day. He’ll have some very important braying and guffawing to do, and the servants don’t terrorize themselves.”
Emir spluttered. “Have you and your brother always been at such odds?” he said.
“For as long as I can remember,” Ivan said. “Do you and Emira never argue?”
“We’re very different, but at the same time...” Emir paused. “She’s the other half of me. We know each other’s every thought. It’s hard to explain.”
“A hard relationship to give up,” Ivan said. “Or to replace.”
Emir nodded. “What about your other brothers?” he said.
“Alexei is in Trestland of course. Helen will be crowned very soon. I miss him, he is the most like me of everyone. But he adores it there, and he adores her, and they have about a dozen children, so I’m happy for him.”
Emir hadn’t known much about Ivan’s other brothers, but he did know that Alexei’s marriage had been a love match - and a wedding which had had to happen in a rush.
“Mikhail and Yonathan will be there though,” Ivan continued, naming his second oldest brother and his husband. There was a laugh in his voice and Emir was about to ask why, when he realised they were at the door of their destination.
The guards swept open the doors to a room that was both magnificent, and as Ivan had said, quite ugly. The marble columns running down either side of the room were a pinkish orange which clashed with the vivid reds of the bloodthirsty mural covering the whole of one wall. The large windows were hung with hideous curtains patterned with hunting scenes. Emir was glad Ivan had managed to dissuade the Queen from decorating his own chamber.
Ivan and Emir bowed to the Queen before taking their seats next to one another. Peter was not in evidence, but Mikhail and his husband were indeed there, and Mikhail had been speaking without pause since they’d entered the room.
“...new Cacoa House in the East Quarter, didn’t we Yonathan? Of course their cacoa is all sourced from farmers who treat their workers like people rather than cattle, and you can taste the difference let me tell you…”
“I don’t know why you poke around these filthy places,” the Queen said, taking a sip of tea. “Just have the servants go out and fetch it for you.”
“Well that wouldn’t be authentic, would it?” Mikhail said. “Of course I wasn’t recognised. I can go anywhere in the City quite safely. I don’t dress all affectedly as Ivan does.”
Emir turned to look at Ivan, but Ivan was clearly amused rather than insulted. Emir looked back at Mikhail and Yonathan. They both wore expensive versions of peasant clothes - the price of the cloth alone would have fed a peasant family for a year - and sported the type of beard more usually seen on a farm hand. Emir knew who he thought was the more affected.
“Mother sends an armed guard around after them of course,” Ivan leant over and whispered to Emir. “And Mikhail’s chamberlain bribes people to pretend they don’t recognise him. Pair of fools.” He said it with affection.
The Queen noticed them whispering together and smiled benevolently.
“Ah, getting to know each other. Very nice. I remember the morning after your father and I….”
“Mother,” Ivan said. “I told you very clearly I’d scream if you tried to tell me about that.”
“Don’t you dare,” the Queen said. “Bessie’s in pup and you’ll frighten her to death.” She turned to look at the hound in the basket beside the window.
“Anyway, wouldn’t anyone like to greet Emir? It’s his first breakfast with us. Isn’t he lucky?” Ivan said.
“Good morning,” Mikhail said, flicking his long hair out of his eyes. “I expect you’ll find the food here very bland. Samatran food has actual flavour. Of course most Samatran food here is a terrible travesty of what your actual traditional food is like, but Yonathan and I found this wonderful little place in the Old Town no one knows about and it really is so authentic.”
Yonathan nodded along. “So authentic,” he repeated.
“I’m glad you like it. But the food here is very nice,” Emir said. “We often ate Eresenian dishes at home.”
“There’s to be no skulking around the Old Town or the East Quarter or anything else for the time being Mikhail. A delegation is arriving from the Alteum region in two weeks to negotiate the treaty, and you all must be on hand to welcome them,” the Queen said.
“We can welcome them all you like, but since you’ve put Peter in charge of negotiations they’re still more than likely to rip the treaty up and declare war on us,” Ivan said.
“Enough, Ivan,” the Queen said, and Ivan subsided. “Peter might be a little forthright but I’m sure he’ll do very well. And I do expect all of you to be able to hold a decent conversation with the delegation members about the issues, so be prepared.”
“I don’t see what that has to do with Yonathan and I experiencing actual real life,” Mikhail said.
“The Fifth Regiment return with the delegation. The Old Town will be teeming with soldiers on leave,” the Queen said.
Emir felt Ivan still for a moment beside him, but then wondered if he’d imagined it as Ivan merely lifted a hand and gestured to a footman for more tea.
“Exciting times ahead,” Ivan remarked, and gave Emir a small smile over the rim of his tea cup.
Part 13
Emir awoke slowly that morning. Firstly because this bed was incredibly comfortable, and secondly, because his new husband was curled up next to him with an arm casually thrown across his chest. Emir couldn’t move and didn’t really want to. He looked down at Ivan whose long lashes swept his slightly flushed cheeks, bright hair spilling across the pillow. He looked so youthful in sleep that Emir found it almost impossible to think that he’d been so assuredly fucked by him last night, Emir could still feel a physical ache from it all these hours later.
He could hear small sounds of Palace life in the rooms beyond this one, and realised he had no idea what time it was. If he could just see the clock on the mantle...
He shifted a tiny amount and Ivan stirred.
“Why do you always get up so early?” Ivan mumbled. “You can’t need to go to the mews already. She’ll be fine.” He patted Emir’s chest and rolled over. “Just sleep.”
Emir hadn’t any idea what Ivan was talking about. A strange dream perhaps. He sat up very carefully.
“If you have to go, go then,” Ivan said, still curled on his side, facing away. “But if you come back quickly I’ll suck you off so hard you’ll give up your commission.” He chuckled to himself and nestled down further into the pillow.
Emir froze, Ivan’s words sinking in. Oh gods. He stared down at Ivan in horror, but Ivan seemed to be deeply asleep again. Emir had to get away before he woke properly, he should never have let himself fall asleep there. What must Ivan have thought of him?
He got out of bed in one swift movement. Taking a moment to orient himself, he found the door to Ivan’s dressing room, which connected to his own. One of his attendants was there.
“I wish to bathe,” Emir said abruptly. “And...and dress. And please find out what happens about breakfast.”
“Yes, your highness,” said the attendant, looking a little startled at the flurry of commands, and fled to fulfill them.
Emir sat on a chair and buried his face in his hands, his thoughts whirling. How awful to be mistaken for Ivan’s lover. Thank heavens Ivan hadn’t woken properly and realised his mistake. Emir had expected to make social errors, of course, not being used to the Court here - but to make one of such a personal nature was mortifying. And he had known that spending the night was wrong, even though Ivan had seemed so welcoming. He had taken advantage of Ivan’s friendly nature in the most dreadful of ways.
Ivan would forgive it, he was sure. But Emir would have to be very careful in future not to allow himself to indulge in such intimacies.
He looked up as his attendant returned.
“Sire, Prince Ivan invites you to accompany him to breakfast in the Marble Room,” he said. “And um,” the man reddened a little. “He wished you to be warned that his brothers would most likely be there.”
Emir couldn’t help a relieved smile. “Please tell him it would be my pleasure,” he said.
Ivan was waiting for him by the window at the end of the hall when Emir finished dressing. He looked even lovelier in the soft morning light than he had by candlelight the night before and Emir allowed himself to stare a little. His husband.
“Good morning,” Ivan said, opening his arms a little, then putting them firmly behind his back. “You disappeared.”
“Only to dress,” Emir said. “I do apologise if I disturbed you as I left. I should have returned to my own chamber after the ceremony, of course.” He knew he was being stiff and awkward, but Ivan didn’t seem to notice.
“You went out like a light,” he said with a grin. “Many men do, don’t they? I’m always full of energy afterwards, I’m sure it must be very annoying if you’re the opposite.”
Emir hadn’t any idea what many men did, but at least Ivan was excusing his error on the grounds of sleepiness. Perhaps Ivan always exhausted his lovers like that. The way he had moved… Emir felt a flash of remembrance which heated his whole body. He caught Ivan’s eye, and swallowed.
“Yes I do have that tendency,” he said, trying to match Ivan’s light tone. “It’s just as well it won’t be repeated, as I’m sure it’s quite inconvenient for everyone involved.”
Ivan blinked, his smile fading. “You weren’t an inconvenience,” he said.
“So,” said Emir, breaking the lengthening silence. “Which is the Marble Room?”
“Oh it’s the most ugly of our dining rooms,” Ivan said, his lighthearted tone returning as he turned towards the staircase. “What better place to start the day? I’m sure you’ll enjoy the mural of the Gods devouring our enemies; I find it aids the digestion.”
“Sounds tasteful,” Emir said. “Shall all your family be there?”
“I expect so, though we’re late enough that Peter might have already breakfasted. He does like to make the most of the day. He’ll have some very important braying and guffawing to do, and the servants don’t terrorize themselves.”
Emir spluttered. “Have you and your brother always been at such odds?” he said.
“For as long as I can remember,” Ivan said. “Do you and Emira never argue?”
“We’re very different, but at the same time...” Emir paused. “She’s the other half of me. We know each other’s every thought. It’s hard to explain.”
“A hard relationship to give up,” Ivan said. “Or to replace.”
Emir nodded. “What about your other brothers?” he said.
“Alexei is in Trestland of course. Helen will be crowned very soon. I miss him, he is the most like me of everyone. But he adores it there, and he adores her, and they have about a dozen children, so I’m happy for him.”
Emir hadn’t known much about Ivan’s other brothers, but he did know that Alexei’s marriage had been a love match - and a wedding which had had to happen in a rush.
“Mikhail and Yonathan will be there though,” Ivan continued, naming his second oldest brother and his husband. There was a laugh in his voice and Emir was about to ask why, when he realised they were at the door of their destination.
The guards swept open the doors to a room that was both magnificent, and as Ivan had said, quite ugly. The marble columns running down either side of the room were a pinkish orange which clashed with the vivid reds of the bloodthirsty mural covering the whole of one wall. The large windows were hung with hideous curtains patterned with hunting scenes. Emir was glad Ivan had managed to dissuade the Queen from decorating his own chamber.
Ivan and Emir bowed to the Queen before taking their seats next to one another. Peter was not in evidence, but Mikhail and his husband were indeed there, and Mikhail had been speaking without pause since they’d entered the room.
“...new Cacoa House in the East Quarter, didn’t we Yonathan? Of course their cacoa is all sourced from farmers who treat their workers like people rather than cattle, and you can taste the difference let me tell you…”
“I don’t know why you poke around these filthy places,” the Queen said, taking a sip of tea. “Just have the servants go out and fetch it for you.”
“Well that wouldn’t be authentic, would it?” Mikhail said. “Of course I wasn’t recognised. I can go anywhere in the City quite safely. I don’t dress all affectedly as Ivan does.”
Emir turned to look at Ivan, but Ivan was clearly amused rather than insulted. Emir looked back at Mikhail and Yonathan. They both wore expensive versions of peasant clothes - the price of the cloth alone would have fed a peasant family for a year - and sported the type of beard more usually seen on a farm hand. Emir knew who he thought was the more affected.
“Mother sends an armed guard around after them of course,” Ivan leant over and whispered to Emir. “And Mikhail’s chamberlain bribes people to pretend they don’t recognise him. Pair of fools.” He said it with affection.
The Queen noticed them whispering together and smiled benevolently.
“Ah, getting to know each other. Very nice. I remember the morning after your father and I….”
“Mother,” Ivan said. “I told you very clearly I’d scream if you tried to tell me about that.”
“Don’t you dare,” the Queen said. “Bessie’s in pup and you’ll frighten her to death.” She turned to look at the hound in the basket beside the window.
“Anyway, wouldn’t anyone like to greet Emir? It’s his first breakfast with us. Isn’t he lucky?” Ivan said.
“Good morning,” Mikhail said, flicking his long hair out of his eyes. “I expect you’ll find the food here very bland. Samatran food has actual flavour. Of course most Samatran food here is a terrible travesty of what your actual traditional food is like, but Yonathan and I found this wonderful little place in the Old Town no one knows about and it really is so authentic.”
Yonathan nodded along. “So authentic,” he repeated.
“I’m glad you like it. But the food here is very nice,” Emir said. “We often ate Eresenian dishes at home.”
“There’s to be no skulking around the Old Town or the East Quarter or anything else for the time being Mikhail. A delegation is arriving from the Alteum region in two weeks to negotiate the treaty, and you all must be on hand to welcome them,” the Queen said.
“We can welcome them all you like, but since you’ve put Peter in charge of negotiations they’re still more than likely to rip the treaty up and declare war on us,” Ivan said.
“Enough, Ivan,” the Queen said, and Ivan subsided. “Peter might be a little forthright but I’m sure he’ll do very well. And I do expect all of you to be able to hold a decent conversation with the delegation members about the issues, so be prepared.”
“I don’t see what that has to do with Yonathan and I experiencing actual real life,” Mikhail said.
“The Fifth Regiment return with the delegation. The Old Town will be teeming with soldiers on leave,” the Queen said.
Emir felt Ivan still for a moment beside him, but then wondered if he’d imagined it as Ivan merely lifted a hand and gestured to a footman for more tea.
“Exciting times ahead,” Ivan remarked, and gave Emir a small smile over the rim of his tea cup.
Part 13
no subject
Date: 2018-12-14 01:18 am (UTC)I do feel bad for poor Emir though - he obviously has it bad for Ivan, no matter how hard he's trying to squash his feelings. (And I'm all curious about what Ivan actually wanted to talk to him about that first day, when Emir just kind of...filled in what he thought he knew. Maybe Ivan's soldier isn't all that Emir was told?)
no subject
Date: 2018-12-14 11:43 am (UTC)I hope you enjoy the rest of this - I'm attempting to update weekly-ish, but Yuletide is probably about to get in the way. There's quite a way to go though.
It's so strange, I was just in the middle of reading all your prompts on the three sentence ficathon when this message came through! (I can't write any of them sadly! I don't know the fandoms) Weird coincidence.
no subject
Date: 2018-12-14 05:20 pm (UTC)And good to know there's a lot more to come! I look forward to reading all of it as it comes (and don't mind waiting, this time of year gets pretty busy!)
no subject
Date: 2020-05-27 05:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-05-29 09:44 am (UTC)