Coronation

[featheredflames]

It is all far too much attention for Joshua's liking.

He knew this was how it would be, that there would be a certain amount of fussing the be expected...but this was beyond the scope of acceptable fussing surely. So much unnecessary commotion over a fitting of ceremonial robes that he wouldn't wear more than a handful of times at that... Would it not be better to spend time focusing on the clothing he would be draped in when he finally dawned his father's mantle? The day-to-day wear that he would need to sport as Archduke of Rosaria.

That would come later, in time, he had been reassured. This outfit would get at least a few days of wear out of it. The ceremony was to last more than a singular evening, festivities dragging on for nearly a week after the event of the coronation itself. Already Joshua feels weary at the thought. Fancy suppers and meeting with dignitaries were in his future but right now his present reality was a miserable one. Fabric is cinched around his waist as measurements are taken and pins are adjusted. He feels like a doll as he's fitted, made to stand for bells on end. Founder he could only hope that some semblance of reprieve would find him soon, hopefully before his knees gave out...

Swallowing he stares out the window, doing his best not to move as the tailors do their work as quickly as they can. It would be unfair if he told them to stop - they were only doing as they had been instructed to, to rework and refit the robes his father wore on his crowning day. Joshua cannot help but think they don't suit him - Clive would wear (and fit!) them far better than he. Yet it was tradition...and while he may be able to escape the tailors ere long, there was no escaping protocol and the duty that loomed over him.

Comments

[flamebrand]

"No, it won't."

As he smiles at the kiss, and at the contentment that shines bright on Joshua's expression. Despite the tumultuous nature of their lives, it's always when they're together that Clive feels most at peace.

Case in point. Tangled in bed with his beloved bird in his arms, Clive can say with some measure of certainty that this is what true happiness looks and feels like.

"...Will you let me warm your bed again, tomorrow night?"

[featheredflames]

"Of course. Need you ask?"

He laughs at the question, curling closer to him, threading their legs together as he nuzzled against his chest. There is no place he would rather have his brother other than his bed, if not by his side.

"My nest is yours, Clive...I thought we established this?"

[flamebrand]

"We did," he chuckles, "but I can appreciate if my songbird wants to rest tomorrow night."

A questing touch, to emphasize his point. He runs his warm palm down the length of Joshua's back, fingertips circling his tailbone for a beat to suggest how handsy Clive's been (literally) the entire night. Embarrassing, probably, that his floodgates have opened so thoroughly, but he figures that it's the result of years of pining and repression.

[featheredflames]

"Rest? Please Clive, perish the thought." He huffs a sigh out of his nose as he leans into his brother's touch. To think Clive would avoid touching him tomorrow is something he does not want to even think about.

"You will drive me mad if you abstain from touching me."

[flamebrand]

Cute. Clive adores Joshua so much that he thinks he could choke on said adoration sometimes. A constant well of affection so all-encompassing that they tug at the seams of his chest, his lungs, his heart.

He pets his brother to reward him for that sweet reply, and thinks, briefly, about his schedule tomorrow. Training with the other soldiers in the morning, the last of the parade preparations for the upcoming coronation, and a few meetings regarding minor border skirmishes in the south. Nothing major, but he'll be occupied until the evening; no time for him to check in with Joshua during the day, unfortunately.

So: "then we'll meet again in bed tomorrow night. You can think of how you want me to touch you."

Unless Joshua wants Clive to take initiative. Less thinking on his lovely bird's part.

[featheredflames]

"I will think of it all day."

Probably not wise, to occupy his mind with ways his brother could and should indulge him. He presses his cheek against Clive's warm chest, happy to indulge in the comfort his presence brings.

"I will do my best to behave...even if I will be left wanting as I wait for you. Will you have supper with me?"

[flamebrand]

It's far too late in the evening to let his interest mount again, so he tries not to think too deeply about what Joshua will want Clive to do to him. Instead, he focuses on the very tame, very demure topic of supper, and presses a quick kiss to the crown of his brother's head.

"Of course." Their mother has become a bit more lenient about Clive joining the table for supper, though she'd still pushed back against it while Ifrit remained unpredictable. Now that Clive is considered a full-fledged Dominant with his eikon under tight control, she grudgingly allows his presence in her vicinity, though not in any meaningful manner. A mongrel is a mongrel is a mongrel.

"I've heard you have a full day ahead of you. I'll be thinking of you from the bailey."

[featheredflames]

"My schedule is fully booked," he says with an iota of despair attached to his voice. The thought of being so busy, especially when it involved tedious preparation for his coronation is beyond unappealing to the soon to be archduke of Rosaria.

"I have to practice what I am to say for the procession and ceremony." It is ever so tedious and while he has no issue repeating what he had to memorize, he rather spend his time in other ways if he had the choice.

"At least we can have supper together...I will see if I can request we have it in private."

[flamebrand]

Clive can sympathize, but the poorly-hidden note of despair makes him chuckle despite himself.

"You sound just like Father used to before a fête," is as sincere as it is fond. "He was never a great fan of functions, either."

Warm, gentle, proud. He knows that Joshua has certain misgivings about his role as Archduke and what it means to replace Elwin Rosfield, but Clive is of the opinion that his brother is every bit their father's son.

"You'll be perfect. Not just tomorrow, but also on the day of."

[featheredflames]

"He wasn't, no."

Their father preferred to drink and be merry with his men, not be constrained to parties he had no desire to attend with their mother. Whenever he had the chance to he always seemed to escape with Sir Rodney. In all honesty, Joshua cannot blame him.

"I hope so, Clive. I truly do...I know I can never measure up to Father, but I hope our people will be happy with my rule nevertheless."

[flamebrand]

"You needn't measure up to anyone," Clive says with certainty. "Father had his reign, and you'll have your own."

Not to mention that their people had entirely different expectations for Elwin as they will for Joshua. Their father, an Archduke through circumstance and not by birth; he had his own trials, and Joshua will have his own.

"And you'll have me to lean on, for matters of war." Elwin had to be both general and diplomat (more the former than the latter though, admittedly). "We'll share the load."

[featheredflames]

"You're right, Clive. Thank you."

So long as they have one another, Joshua need not fret. So long as he had Clive by his side, even if his brother would have to be away from it for a time, there was nothing they couldn't both face.

He yawns softly, settled against Clive's chest. He's spent, in all honesty.

"I think...I am fading..."

[flamebrand]

"I've worn you out," Clive sighs. "Sleep."

It's been a long, eventful day. The monumental shift in their relationship notwithstanding, Joshua has been up and about since morning, and will have to put up with more of the same on the morrow― Clive should let him rest.

And so it goes that the next week follows in the same vein. Duties until supper, ill-advised trysts until they fall asleep in each other's arms. Clive explores his brother's body until he gets a feel for what Joshua likes, and how he enjoys being handled; by the night before the coronation, he manages to wring out too many orgasms from his brother with just hands and lips alone.

Debauched, probably. He tries to set aside the sense memory of Joshua's body on the day of the festivities (focus, Clive Rosfield), and makes sure to clean himself up properly for the ceremony. Hair slicked back, freshly-shaved, in form-fitting red and black.

[featheredflames]

It has been a trying week. Between preparation for the coronation and Clive utterly debasing him each and every night, Joshua is utterly wrecked in every which way when the fated day finally arrives. He is washed and fussed over, dressed in the finest fabrics and has his hair brushed and styled in a way that leaves him looking otherworldly once he's free of the primping hands of his attendants. The ceremony itself is set in the afternoon to allow for hours of merrymaking and celebration well into the evening after the feast is held and while there is only a bell or two left to wait until he is crowned before the other heads of the high houses and other notable guests (mother and uncle included), minutes drag and feel like an eternity.

He wants Clive. Not for any other reason than the reassurance he will bring to him...but it isn't proper to seek his brother out - not until the deed has been done and ancient rites repeated and respected.

Why is it that it always feels like forever when he is dreading something?

Eventually he is lead into the great hall and is left to wait as people shuffle in and about. As his audience grows his eyes seek out Clive, heart skipping and settling once he spots his Shield. He should be beside him shortly...Founder can only hope it will be soon.

[flamebrand]

Joshua is always the most beautiful thing in every room he enters, but he's especially resplendent today in his ceremonial robes. Phoenix-scarlet and coal-black, with shimmering embroidery framing his silhouette in all the right places. When Clive finally makes his way into the hall where the rites are to take place, he takes a few moments to stare at his brother from across the room in open admiration.

(Rodney Murdoch steps across him and mutters close your mouth, unless you're looking to catch flies; Clive does as suggested, and smiles sheepishly in mild apology.)

After the proper greetings are done and out of the way, he makes his way to his brother's side. Or, more accurately, his front. The First Shield of Rosaria kneels in front of his soon-to-be Archduke, and lowers his head in the perfect image of a knight swearing loyalty to his lord. A portrait in motion.

"Your Grace." Given the eyes and ears on them, he should refrain from saying something like I could kiss you, you're so beautiful. "...In all of Rosaria's history, there hasn't been a day more auspicious than this one."

[featheredflames]

Clive may find him resplendent but that doesn't mean much when Joshua cannot take his own eyes off him in turn. If Joshua is the glittering sunbeams steaming through the windows, Clive is the warm, handsome stone that supports the roof above them all. He is so wonderful to stare at that Joshua nearly forgets to answer him once he's kneeling before him.

Right. They have parts to play and his is to begin now. Best to put on a show for their captive audience, even if he would prefer if they were alone and only had one another to answer to...

"I shall do my best to live up to my father's legacy and the others who came before to rule over Rosaria. Please, raise your head Sir Clive, so I may reclaim you as my First Shield before such noble witnesses."

[flamebrand]

There's nothing to reclaim, really. Clive has been Joshua's from the day Joshua was born, but if ceremony dictates that they go through this song and dance again, Clive will happily do so. Even if Sir makes him raise a brow.

He lifts his head. As a callback to the first time Joshua touched steel to shoulder, he winks.

"You honor me."

No longer a boy, his knees don't shake in front of his brother this time; he's confidence personified, immovable in his resolve to protect the man he loves with every fiber of his very being. Nothing and no one, not even Ifrit, could break his oath this time around.

"May our flames burn as one, forevermore."

[featheredflames]

Out Joshua reaches with his sword, unsheathing the weapon to hold it high as he re-knights his brother in ceremony. Flames swirl around the blade, feathers appearing as he touches each shoulder, his heart skipping a beat as he catches that wink Clive throws his way. It truly is unfair how they have to be before an audience and cannot be alone right now. The fact he has to share this moment with others...

"And Forevermore they shall."

He sheaths his weapon only to offer his hand, a flame manifesting in his palm.

"Let us entwine our flames before all, so they may bear witness of Rosaria's strength."

[flamebrand]

Entwining flames－ a new bit of improvised ceremony. Clive flushes when Joshua suggests it, though the color is attributable to pride instead of any shyness. There have never been twin flames in all of Rosaria's history, and this new joining of their aether－ the Phoenix and Ifrit both－ feels like a promising sun rising over the future of their duchy.

Their eikons, attuning. Clive rises back onto his feet again, barely conscious of the eyes that remain settled on both the Archduke and his First Shield, and reaches with his own hand alight with scarlet magick.

"May the Phoenix light our torch, so that Ifrit may bear it."

Fingers lace, and their palms press together. Heat for heat, searing without burning. Clive sighs, feeling power surge through him; it's all he can do not to crane forward and claim his brother's mouth in witness of all.

[featheredflames]

Palms pressed together, Joshua can feel his heart soar as his heartbeat leaps into his throat. If only they hadn't an audience. If only they could be alone with no one else to bother them. Later, Joshua reminds himself, that will come in due time. They must give the people what they want, put on a show that will spoken of and written down for many to reference for years and years to come.

Why, if the bards will not write songs about this moment, whatever was the point?

It feels invigorating to share aether in such a fashion, to have their flames entwine together and fuel one another. This...this is how it should have been from the start.

"May the Firebird's Flames bring life and prosperity to Rosaria."

[flamebrand]

Applause, raucous and enthusiastic at the display of solidarity. The dignitaries and members of the high houses all share their hopes for the future in this lingering moment of resounding support, and though it's a rare thing－ Clive can anticipate them squabbling again by the following night－ their pride in being a Rosarian resonates throughout the four corners of Rosalith Castle.

Unfortunately, that means that Clive has to give space for well-wishers to share their appreciation for the new Archduke. Their fingers untwine (with reluctance), and Clive is replaced by a steady stream of open palms and men and women who want to extend their compliments.

Time passes. Clive refuses invitations for drinks－ festivities aside, he has to be ready for anything－ and once the initial wave subsides, he slips back by Joshua's side with a glass of wine. For his brother, mind, not himself.

As he hands it over: "Have they worn you out?"

[featheredflames]

The celebration passes by in a blur of people, well wishes, and polite greetings he has rehearsed for years. With every new couple or individual that comes to him he finds himself praying for the line of guests to end. Eventually it does, and he is eternally grateful when Clive steps back to his side, offered glass of wine taken without hesitation.

He takes a sip, shoulders slouching ever so slightly with a sigh.

"That would be putting it politely." Not that he means to speak ill of his guests or his people - that is not the case at all. He is just simply...tired. "I did not realize how draining such an amount of focused socialization would be. I am happy to receive everyone's blessings...to know they have put their faith in me...but I do need a moment of my own."

It could not come fast enough. At least he has tonight to look forward to.

[flamebrand]

Celebrations come with expectation. Everyone present in the room now extend their warmest regards to their young Archduke, but they'll be jockeying for more than just attention once the festivities end and the thrill of the coronation subsides. Clive watches the nobles all mill about, some faces familiar and welcome and some not quite so, and then casts his attention to a section of the hall where a gaggle of men and women are dancing to improvised music.

"Everyone will be too deep in their cups soon to risk speaking to you," he chuckles. "You'll be able to retire soon enough."

That's when the real debauchery will take place, both on the castle grounds and also in the privacy of Joshua's bedroom. After making sure that no one is within earshot, Clive whispers: "I've wanted you all night."

[featheredflames]

He can only hope that to be the case - that those around him will feel he is far too untouchable, let alone approachable, to bother further for the rest of the evening.

But speaking of touching...

An immediate shiver creeps its way down Joshua's spine as Clive whispers words of wanting against his ear. It is a sentiment he can eagerly return, or would, if he could be free with the way he would like to return it.

"And I you..." he mutters under his breath, raising the glass' rim to his lips for another sip. "You cannot begin to imagine the fantasies I have entertained all day."

[flamebrand]

A light puff of breath, amused.

"All day? You've been busy."

As if that claim doesn't interest him immensely (it does). The way Clive looks at Joshua momentarily hearkens to all the nights they've spent together after their first one, a flash of untamed hunger that turns ocean-blue eyes just on the side of stormy. For a moment, it's obvious that Clive is undressing Joshua in his mind.

"Will you tell me about them later?"