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]

"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?"

[featheredflames]

Yes he has been busy, Clive. The cheeky look his brother shows him has his face ruddy further as another sip of wine is taken. Will he tell Clive about his fantasies later? What a question...

"Of course," he mutters under his breath, taking a step closer to him to bump their shoulders together. "So long as you are willing to fulfil them."

[flamebrand]

The party guests are too busy with their revelry to notice how Clive momentarily brushes his fingers against Joshua's, and how he gently knocks their elbows together. Their pinkies twine together for a lingering second, like a secret traded, before Clive tears himself (unwillingly) away from Joshua's side.

Not without a quiet "every single one" murmured against Joshua's ear, though. Tonight is entirely for Joshua, in every way that it can be.

[featheredflames]

Oh how badly he wants to bury his face in his brother's chest right now...how desperately he wants to reach back and hold his hand and squeeze his fingers tight between his own. It's the sort of security he wants right now but he has to be patient and proper. Just another bell or two and he can slip away and retire while everyone else continues their merrymaking. He doubts even their mother would put up a fuss of him going to bed early.

"I look forward to it...immensely ."

[flamebrand]

Joshua is resplendent in his new clothes, but Clive can only think of how much he'd like to take them off. Carefully, of course― he wouldn't begin to know how to explain how the new Archduke's robes were torn― but he thinks of all that beautiful skin under those layers, and has to flex his fingers against his palm to vent his need.

"I'll retire to your room first."

No one will find it suspicious. It's the Lord Commander doing his due diligence and making sure that assassins aren't in the halls, or whatever else he can say to justify his early absence. Clive has never been one to linger in festivities anyway, preferring his space and quiet to raucous celebration, and so no one will question him choosing duty over dancing.

One last nudge, and he turns on his heels. A few noblewomen try to court his attention― "Lord Marquess, leaving us so soon?"― but he politely evades them.

[featheredflames]

Clive dismisses himself first, and oh how lucky his older brother is to do so. There is still a bit of merrymaking Joshua is obligated to indulge in, and now without Clive around it is a bit more taxing to do so. Still, at the end of it all, he manages to finally leave, telling Sir Rodney of his plan and bidding those who still have their wits about them a good eve. Bless, for once, the reputation of his constitution, as everyone who listens agrees that he ought to rest and get a full night of sleep.

Hah. As if he would be sleeping much at all. Not when the promise of being fucked silly was there lingering over his head.

He practically runs back to his quarters, knocking only twice before letting himself in. There is no need to bathe either, as he's been scrubbed so squeaky clean earlier in the day that he's anything but unpleasant. No, there should be little in the way to stop Clive from descending upon him and giving him exactly what he's been waiting for.

"Clive?"

He closes the door behind him, resting against it with a sigh.

"I have escaped them all."

[flamebrand]

By the time Joshua steps into his room－ now practically a shared bedroom, considering how Clive has been occupying it every night for the past few nights－ Clive has shed most of his decorative layers and has stripped himself down to a form-fitting dress shirt and his leather trousers. Noticeably ready to drag Joshua to bed, though he doesn't immediately fling the young Archduke onto their fluffed pillows and soft mattress; instead, he crowds Joshua against the door when it closes behind him, and tips his brother's chin to press an indulgent kiss against that sighing mouth.

Once their lips part, it's his turn to huff a warm exhale.

"Founder, I thought they'd keep you the entire night."

[featheredflames]

Clive descends upon him and immediately he's groaning against his brother's hot, inviting mouth. The kiss, unfortunately, doesn't last for as long as he wishes it would, but hearing his brother's husk coated voice sparks desire deep in his belly, flames already hot and rising.

"So did I... thank the Founder that I am free from their balking and stares."

The only one he wants looking at him for the rest of the night is Clive.

[flamebrand]

"They can't be blamed for staring," he laughs, guiding Joshua to bed with an arm looped around his waist. Touching and tracing over all those layers, red and gold and black. "You're breathtaking."

The most beautiful thing Clive has ever seen, from the moment he was born until now. Another long, claiming kiss, and he coaxes Joshua to settle before his eager hands can get to work unwrapping him properly.

"Founder, it was agonizing to wait." A beat. "Do you wish our hands bound now or later?"

[featheredflames]

He flushes at the compliment, nose scrunching up as he does his best to push away the embarrassment he feels. He is not breathtaking, not in the slightest, but to protest would delay Clive's mouth and hands further when they are already on a trajectory towards his bed. Up he goes, settled onto his back, propped up with his elbows as Clive continues to tease.

He needs out of these pretty and stifling garments immediately.

"Later." That's easy enough to answer. "I want to be able to touch you back first."

[flamebrand]

A soft sigh of acknowledgment, and Clive gets to work on ridding Joshua of his soft silks and sashes and what-have-you-s. Scarlet fabric lined with gold, coal-black thread weaving patterns over well-ironed panels. Clive takes care not to ruin any of it, and eventually gets up to set the most extravagant of the layers in a neat pile on a nearby armchair.

As he returns, he notes how Joshua looks in his remaining clothes. A long, flowing gownlike one-piece in white. The mattress sinks under his weight when he rides back up onto it, and Clive smiles as he crowds his brother once more.

"This reminds me of the clothes you used to wear."

Joshua really was such a darling child. Sweet and good-natured as sin.

[featheredflames]

Each piece of finery is peeled away as if Clive is unwrapping a present, but with far more care than he imagines he need show. Still, Joshua cannot help but love how tender his brother is with him, even now at the age they're at. The white, frilly frock he's worn beneath everything else does harken back to the outfits their mother used to dress him in. Sometimes he found her choices a bit too feminine...but he could not argue that she didn't have an eye for fashion.

Everyone under her control was dressed well, regardless of how she felt about them, for better or worse.

"I suppose it does bear a resemblance...you can thank Mother for that."

[flamebrand]

No invoking Mother in bed, Clive thinks to shoot back, but saying so would also be invoking her. His relationship with Annabella has remained complicated at best, but it's not what he wants to think about while he has Joshua under him in nothing but his thinnest layers and his pretty jewelry still affixed to his wrists, around his neck, keeping the longest strands of his hair in place.

Founder, Joshua is stunning. Clive doesn't know where to begin to touch him, but he starts with another kiss and teasing fingers lifting the hem of that pristine-white gown.

"I'd look ridiculous in robes and lace, but you look striking."

Tracing along Joshua's bare thigh under the light fabric, Clive hums his appreciation under his breath.