The clang of steel rang over the courtyard, the two opponents circling each other. The one, a young woman of muscled form, dual wielding twin blades, snarked to her sparring partner. "Come know, Dearest, I went to that ball, I wore that damnable dress, at the very least you could give a proper showing. I know you're better then this."
Her partner, wielding a halberd, teased back, "Oh? Didst thouest refer to the Queen Flower Parade Dance? Where you told the unmarried, virgin, Duchess of Fontelerou that she needed to, and I quote, Find a good man to give her a proper anal dicking' and that she could still firmly claim virginity if she constrained herself to ass and mouth? Then left early with father and was back in your armor by the time mother and I arrived at home?"
The young man lunged forward, his beloved dancing to the side. She thrust forward, trying to slip inside his guard, but he had already recovered, deflecting the blow. The two pulled away continuing to circle each other.
His beloved, her mask hiding her features shot back, "Well you're always in such a better mood after I indulge you. After all, you never took the strap on out of yourself last night. I do believe you still have it inside you. Besides, she was being a pretentious bitch and my dress was incredibly uncomfortable."
"Well with those hips, it's no wonder why your dress didn't sit right, when was the last time you had it let out, Dearest. I really do think you need to lay of the pie for a bit." This was met by a gasp from his Darling
"I Never.." His love began but they young man cut in, "Actually you did, I lost track after I didn't get any of the first pie. Honestly, between father and you, mother and I never get any desert. It's always gone by the time we get there, hence your hips and father's belly. Although, I do approve of the padding it's giving the rest of you. GROOOWWWLL."
Growling herself she charged straight for her beloved. Him, meeting her lunge by bracing his halberd. Her pivoting at the last second. Avoiding his weapon entirely, she hooked her weapons onto the haft of his, bracing her foot against his chest, she disarmed him of his weapon and sent him sprawling into the dirt, sending his helmet clattering away. He rolled to his back only to have his Darling Beloved straddle his face, her pussy uncovered as she had evidently fought the entire fight without that particular piece of undergear, her short, leather banded skirt concealing her undress.
The aroma of her sweat and the dampness of her flower, letting him know exactly what was wanted.
"Put that skilled tongue of yours to good use Betrothed, I need some release." She demanded.
"Well, never let it be said that the Crown Prince, ever left his Love unsatisfied." Beginning that which was his greatest privilege, the Prince dove into his treat, he had gotten his desert at last.
Across the courtyard, unseen by the otherwise occupied couple, stood an older man. Once he could have been called handsome, but his hawkish nose had been broken in too many battles and training accidents, scars from fighting the beasts of the wild that he had both hunted and been hunted by jaggedly marred his face. His Left eye was the blue of the sky, an empty socket its only mournful partner. He still stood tall and proud, if with a little less hair upon the head that bore the crown of the high king. Alongside him stood a woman that had once been called beautiful, but her greying hair and wrinkling face had taken that. Still her Emerald eyes sparkled as her future daughter in law's moans testified to her sons skill with his tongue. The Crown of the High Queen stood firm upon her head, her form still fit and shapely. Looking upon her husband, she placed her hand on his arm. Turning his eyes, he flushed as he beheld his darling's eyes emerald gleam. Smirking, with a sparkle in his own eye, the High King and His Queen retreated to give the loving couple some privacy.
"They grow so quickly don't they?" His wife ventured.
"Indeed, beloved. I still remember teaching them both the arts of combat, them both my squires." A smile graced the kings face as he thought back to younger days.
"And I remember teaching them both the arts of Diplomacy. Them both such eager students." His forever love continued his thought.
"Yes, where did all that time go? One moment they were children, then they became adults." The King shook his head, "I remember teaching her that maneuver. Her smiling up at me, so proud. She took so easily to combat, gifted in all such things. A daughter in all but biology, almost another son. Heh."
His lady chuckled, "I remember teaching him how to use words as weapons, when and how to say a word for the most devastating effect. How to use his tone of voice to force an attack, He was such an apt student, always preferring the battles of the Court to the hunts and battles you and your 'daughter' prefered."
"Aye, he never was one to come on the hunt. Had no taste for the blood of battle, nor the sport of the field. Always upon your skirt he followed, navigating the court I dare say better than I ever could." The High King groused.
The queen placed a shapely finger upon her chin, a frown shaping her face. "It wasn't always so. Once she looked to me as a mother, but I fear her talents laid more in battle and dealing with the threats that kept cropping up. I scarcely know the woman that has captured the heart of my son. I lament allowing that to happen, but for every battle there must be those that tend to the aftermath, those that forge the treaties. Which was what I did. I miss the little girl whose hair I brushed before the call of battle caused her to cut it short. I miss the lass that wore bows and tore her dresses as I chased after her, before the call to the hunt took her and made her forget her joy in such things. I miss that girl, Magnus. You never meant to take her from me, but you did. I want my little Meghan back."
Magnus pursed his own lips, "And what of my son, Olivia? Once he was my partner in crime, whenever I tried to sneak away for a little fun. I remember a boy that I smiled down upon and smiled back at me. One, that though he had no taste for the blood at the end, still valued the tracking and the chase, before the call of the games of the court became what he favored. I scarcely know the young man that I proudly call my heir. He will be a better king then I ever was, especially with her at his side. He will unite this world with diplomacy and law, instead of the war that I had to use. His kingdom will be greater then mine ever was. But I wish to see that little boy that called me pappa, that sat upon my knee and asked for stories of adventure. That rode behind me on my saddle, acting as my tracker within the hunt. I want him back." The king turned from his wife. Leaning against a wooden pillar he regretted the sting of his words.
Turning back, he spoke. "Olivia I'm So..."
His words silenced by her lips, he pulled her close, his sinewy arms pulling her close. Moaning into him, Olivia dwelt in his embrace a moment more, then pushed her husband a way, "Not just yet you randy goat. In your typical brutish way you've stumbled onto our solution."
"Solution? Oh tell me, temptress, what dost thou refer? And forgive this randy goat his brutish plodding understanding."
"Oh, hush and come here let your Old Nanny explain it all, Old Buck."
Whispering excitedly to her husband, him whispering quickly back as he caught on, the two plotted to regain that which they had lost. The King his son, and the Queen her daughter.