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kinkfest2009-06-11 11:17 pm
moontyger.livejournal.com) wrote in kinkfest2009-06-11 11:17 pm
Entry tags:
Compensations [Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn, Elincia/Lucia, R]
Title: Compensations
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
moontyger
Rating: R or NC-17, I'm not entirely sure
Warnings: Sex, but fairly vague
Word count: 1247
Prompt: Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn, Lucia/Elincia: loyalty and submission -- I shall follow you until I die, my Queen
Lucia had been ready to die. Prepared for it, somehow, or so it seemed - her expression and her words bare of even the slightest hint of resignation or fear. Even her voice didn't tremble, offered no suggestion of weakness at all.
Yet she'd been afraid. She must have been afraid; how could she not have been? It hadn't been visible in her stance or her voice, but Elincia had seen it, glimpsed it in that moment of relief and hope when she'd collapsed into Ike's arms. She didn't blame her for it. Anyone would have been afraid. She didn't even mind if the show of pride had been a lie; why should Lucia be proud to be sacrificed for the Queen who'd allowed her to be captured in the first place?
Now that it is all over, now that peace has been restored and her best friend is safe, she should be sleeping, resting so she'll have the strength to put the pieces of her kingdom back together, but she can't. It is late and she is tired, but she can't rest, haunted by the sensation of things still left undone.
Awake in a sleeping castle, mind far too burdened for rest, it is perhaps not surprising that she finds herself here, of all places she might wander. Elincia stands in the doorway of Lucia's bedroom, clad in only her nightdress, and watches her sleep, watches her as though the sleep of one would be enough for them both.
She has no right to be here, but she can't stay away. Slowly, she creeps closer, the cold floor offering fresh shocks to her bare feet with each hesitant step of her inevitable approach. At last, she stands by the bed, staring down at Lucia's bruised face. In sleep, she looks so young, defenseless and vulnerable. Elincia should turn away, leave and return to her own room, but she can't bring herself to do it.
Instead, she climbs into the bed, curling up beside Lucia like they were little girls again and today and all the days of her reign merely a nightmare she'd just woken from. She closes her eyes and listens to Lucia breathe, remembering all the nights before where she'd done just this, letting the other girl's presence soothe her into sleep.
She used to wish they were really sisters instead of just pretending. She used to wish it were Lucia who was the Queen and she the servant. But those were the wishes of a child and Elincia isn't that, not anymore. Not after today.
Lucia's still sleeping, or maybe only pretending to. She should let her; she knows that. She must be exhausted. But even as she thinks it, she's already reaching out, stroking her fingers through unexpectedly short blue hair. It feels strange; Elincia doesn't think she's ever seen it so short in all the years they've known each other. This short and in the dark, it almost reminds her of Ike.
But Ike isn't who she wants to think about, not here and not now, not when he's come to save her and left her again in almost the same moment. She can't depend on him, not really; she should have known that by now and not have been disappointed. Ike always leaves her behind, trapped in the castle that still doesn't feel like hers, unable to follow. But Lucia... Lucia is still here. She'll always be here.
She slides closer, slipping easily across the clean sheets, and presses the ghost of a kiss to Lucia's slightly parted lips. Here, here is the person she can depend on, and Elincia can't imagine why she hadn't seen it clearly before.
“Your Majesty, what are you doing here?” The question is formal, but the words are soft, whispered in the night like a secret.
Elincia shakes her head in reply, pressing a finger to warm lips. Words aren't what she wants now and titles and formality even less so. Gently, reverently, she kisses Lucia's bruises and scrapes, cataloging each wound she'd taken, wounds taken, ultimately, for her, for Elincia herself instead of for Crimea as a whole. She counts them, reciting the total to herself. Each one of these is a burden, a debt she must repay, but she doesn't know how. How can she ever make up for this? What words, what actions, could possibly atone for being willing to sacrifice a woman who'd offered her nothing but kindness?
Elincia looks up, forcing herself to meet Lucia's gaze. “Forgive me,” she whispers.
“There's nothing to forgive.”
She shakes her head, denying the words she wants to hear, but cannot believe. “How can you say that? I was going to watch you die.” Elincia is grateful that it hadn't happened, relieved that it had been taken out of her hands, but she can neither forget nor forgive her own helplessness.
“I know.” Lucia smiles, lifting a hand to cup Elincia's cheek. “I'm proud of you.”
She shakes her head again, tilting it so her hair falls forward and hides her expression. “There's nothing to be proud of. I did what I had to do.” And even as she'd done it, she'd wondered if she were strong enough to bear it, wondered if she'd be able to stand there and watch without breaking.
“That's why you're a good Queen.” Lucia's still smiling as she strokes Elincia's hair back from her face and tugs her close, wrapping her arms around her as though she'll never let go.
And she won't, if Elincia asks it of her; she suddenly understands this more completely than ever before. She has no words for her epiphany, but none are needed. She kisses her again, still gentle, but with demand underneath, an order she doesn't need to voice to have obeyed.
As she knew she would, Lucia parts her lips obediently, spreads her legs so Elincia can settle between them. She never thought she'd want this, never imagined desiring unquestioning surrender, but she's grateful for it, even relieved. Lucia's body – battered, but essentially whole - is an offering, a sacrifice in a different, but more welcome, way than she'd expected.
Yet she is not a monster, not a ruler like the Duke of Felirae, to callously use those loyal to her. Elincia will not force Lucia, won't compel even by unspoken expectation. All it would take for her to stop is one word; no, less, merely the suggestion that Lucia isn't enjoying it, would rather be left to sleep.
But if she feels unwilling, Lucia gives no sign of it, holding her tight and making soft sounds of need when Elincia's kisses hesitantly trail lower. Maybe she'd wanted this, too, and Elincia had merely never seen it, just as she'd somehow never before wondered how Lucia's skin would feel against hers, never pondered the way she would taste with legs spread and the space between wet with desire.
This wasn't what she'd thought she was looking for, yet she is grateful to have found it, even nearly grateful for the circumstances that led her to it. It was a test and a terrible one, but she passed and found in that passing a reward greater than she'd imagined. Sated and finally sleepy, Elincia curls up in Lucia's arms, less alone than she'd been since she'd found herself claiming the title she'd never expected to be hers. She'd never truly wanted to be Queen, but perhaps it had its compensations after all.
Author:
moontygerRating: R or NC-17, I'm not entirely sure
Warnings: Sex, but fairly vague
Word count: 1247
Prompt: Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn, Lucia/Elincia: loyalty and submission -- I shall follow you until I die, my Queen
Lucia had been ready to die. Prepared for it, somehow, or so it seemed - her expression and her words bare of even the slightest hint of resignation or fear. Even her voice didn't tremble, offered no suggestion of weakness at all.
Yet she'd been afraid. She must have been afraid; how could she not have been? It hadn't been visible in her stance or her voice, but Elincia had seen it, glimpsed it in that moment of relief and hope when she'd collapsed into Ike's arms. She didn't blame her for it. Anyone would have been afraid. She didn't even mind if the show of pride had been a lie; why should Lucia be proud to be sacrificed for the Queen who'd allowed her to be captured in the first place?
Now that it is all over, now that peace has been restored and her best friend is safe, she should be sleeping, resting so she'll have the strength to put the pieces of her kingdom back together, but she can't. It is late and she is tired, but she can't rest, haunted by the sensation of things still left undone.
Awake in a sleeping castle, mind far too burdened for rest, it is perhaps not surprising that she finds herself here, of all places she might wander. Elincia stands in the doorway of Lucia's bedroom, clad in only her nightdress, and watches her sleep, watches her as though the sleep of one would be enough for them both.
She has no right to be here, but she can't stay away. Slowly, she creeps closer, the cold floor offering fresh shocks to her bare feet with each hesitant step of her inevitable approach. At last, she stands by the bed, staring down at Lucia's bruised face. In sleep, she looks so young, defenseless and vulnerable. Elincia should turn away, leave and return to her own room, but she can't bring herself to do it.
Instead, she climbs into the bed, curling up beside Lucia like they were little girls again and today and all the days of her reign merely a nightmare she'd just woken from. She closes her eyes and listens to Lucia breathe, remembering all the nights before where she'd done just this, letting the other girl's presence soothe her into sleep.
She used to wish they were really sisters instead of just pretending. She used to wish it were Lucia who was the Queen and she the servant. But those were the wishes of a child and Elincia isn't that, not anymore. Not after today.
Lucia's still sleeping, or maybe only pretending to. She should let her; she knows that. She must be exhausted. But even as she thinks it, she's already reaching out, stroking her fingers through unexpectedly short blue hair. It feels strange; Elincia doesn't think she's ever seen it so short in all the years they've known each other. This short and in the dark, it almost reminds her of Ike.
But Ike isn't who she wants to think about, not here and not now, not when he's come to save her and left her again in almost the same moment. She can't depend on him, not really; she should have known that by now and not have been disappointed. Ike always leaves her behind, trapped in the castle that still doesn't feel like hers, unable to follow. But Lucia... Lucia is still here. She'll always be here.
She slides closer, slipping easily across the clean sheets, and presses the ghost of a kiss to Lucia's slightly parted lips. Here, here is the person she can depend on, and Elincia can't imagine why she hadn't seen it clearly before.
“Your Majesty, what are you doing here?” The question is formal, but the words are soft, whispered in the night like a secret.
Elincia shakes her head in reply, pressing a finger to warm lips. Words aren't what she wants now and titles and formality even less so. Gently, reverently, she kisses Lucia's bruises and scrapes, cataloging each wound she'd taken, wounds taken, ultimately, for her, for Elincia herself instead of for Crimea as a whole. She counts them, reciting the total to herself. Each one of these is a burden, a debt she must repay, but she doesn't know how. How can she ever make up for this? What words, what actions, could possibly atone for being willing to sacrifice a woman who'd offered her nothing but kindness?
Elincia looks up, forcing herself to meet Lucia's gaze. “Forgive me,” she whispers.
“There's nothing to forgive.”
She shakes her head, denying the words she wants to hear, but cannot believe. “How can you say that? I was going to watch you die.” Elincia is grateful that it hadn't happened, relieved that it had been taken out of her hands, but she can neither forget nor forgive her own helplessness.
“I know.” Lucia smiles, lifting a hand to cup Elincia's cheek. “I'm proud of you.”
She shakes her head again, tilting it so her hair falls forward and hides her expression. “There's nothing to be proud of. I did what I had to do.” And even as she'd done it, she'd wondered if she were strong enough to bear it, wondered if she'd be able to stand there and watch without breaking.
“That's why you're a good Queen.” Lucia's still smiling as she strokes Elincia's hair back from her face and tugs her close, wrapping her arms around her as though she'll never let go.
And she won't, if Elincia asks it of her; she suddenly understands this more completely than ever before. She has no words for her epiphany, but none are needed. She kisses her again, still gentle, but with demand underneath, an order she doesn't need to voice to have obeyed.
As she knew she would, Lucia parts her lips obediently, spreads her legs so Elincia can settle between them. She never thought she'd want this, never imagined desiring unquestioning surrender, but she's grateful for it, even relieved. Lucia's body – battered, but essentially whole - is an offering, a sacrifice in a different, but more welcome, way than she'd expected.
Yet she is not a monster, not a ruler like the Duke of Felirae, to callously use those loyal to her. Elincia will not force Lucia, won't compel even by unspoken expectation. All it would take for her to stop is one word; no, less, merely the suggestion that Lucia isn't enjoying it, would rather be left to sleep.
But if she feels unwilling, Lucia gives no sign of it, holding her tight and making soft sounds of need when Elincia's kisses hesitantly trail lower. Maybe she'd wanted this, too, and Elincia had merely never seen it, just as she'd somehow never before wondered how Lucia's skin would feel against hers, never pondered the way she would taste with legs spread and the space between wet with desire.
This wasn't what she'd thought she was looking for, yet she is grateful to have found it, even nearly grateful for the circumstances that led her to it. It was a test and a terrible one, but she passed and found in that passing a reward greater than she'd imagined. Sated and finally sleepy, Elincia curls up in Lucia's arms, less alone than she'd been since she'd found herself claiming the title she'd never expected to be hers. She'd never truly wanted to be Queen, but perhaps it had its compensations after all.