Work Text:
It was getting late…
This realization only came with the toll of the last bells from the clock tower in the center of town. Viego sat up in his desk chair, stretching and then turning towards the empty bedroom. His brow furrowed. She wasn’t back yet.
“Ancestors, I told them to make it quick.” he muttered under his breath, scooting his chair back and going to grab his coat on the bed. But no sooner had he shoved one arm into its sleeve than the double doors parted and in she walked, his Queen.
“My love!” His face brightened. Viego shrugged his coat back off and went to meet her, taking one of her hands and leaving a kiss on her knuckles. “I was just about to come get you. I feared those old fools would keep you from me another hour yet,”
The smile Isolde greeted him with was tired and worn, but she leaned in to receive his kiss. “Forgive me, Veeg. I meant not to keep you waiting.”
Viego embraced her, pressing her head to his chest as he left another kiss on the top of her head. “I do not mind waiting so long as it is you I’m waiting for.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and let out a deep sigh. “I thank you, my love.”
The king nuzzled his face against the side of her head, eagerly kissing her–leaving pecks on her ear, cheek, forehead, anywhere he could reach. Having Isolde in his arms was a welcome comfort after such a long day, especially when they’d spent a great deal of it apart. It was as unusual as it was tortuous. In her absence Viego found it difficult to focus, his thoughts drifting to the empty space beside him throughout the day. But with her return came the peace of mind he so desperately craved. He held her tightly.“I missed you,” he whispered in her ear, his hand sliding down her back and coming to rest on her hips, another longing kiss pressed to her neck.
Isolde slid her arms between them, pulling out of his grasp. “Forgive me, I am tired,” she said, now refusing to meet his gaze and striding to the bathroom with just a single glance over her shoulder before she disappeared behind the partition.
“Oh…yes, of course.” he said, unsure of what to do with himself. That was–not the first time she refused him, but never had it left him feeling so insecure. Never was his queen so cold. Had he…said something wrong? No, he couldn’t have. He’d barely seen her all day. She was tired, yes, as she said. Even still, a growing unease brewed within him, knotting up his stomach as he took a seat back at his desk, trying to look busy and unbothered despite his rapidly bouncing right leg. He tried to read the words he’d been writing on this roll of parchment but found it was entirely in vain. He couldn’t focus on a single word. Between these failed attempts at reading, he cast looks over his shoulder, eyeing the doorway.
Viego fought the desire to go in after her. If he held her again and went slow, perhaps she’d relax. She would smile and hold him tight, happy in the comfort of his arms until morning. He tapped the tip of his quill to the parchment. It would work, but it proved no longer even an option with his wife coming back into the room just a moment later. Viego turned back to his work, completely aware of her movement around the room. He heard her walk to his side of the bed and for just a moment he thought he would feel her arms around his neck and her face pressed against his ear. Instead, she sat down on the edge, facing him and sighed even deeper than before.
He turned, slowly, mindful of the cold edge and tension that was so suddenly between them. The silk night gown she wore was one he’d given her, all the way from Ionia. She was radiant in it, as always, but the distress he saw on her face was quick to fizzle out any of his usual excitement. She frowned, head hung low, and her hands fiddled with the hem of her gown, looking as if she were about to speak, but deciding better of it every time she opened her mouth. Viego got up from his seat and came to the bedside, kneeling down and reaching for one of her hands.
“Isolde, my darling, what casts such a shadow over your face?”
The same tired smile made an effort to replace her frown, but with little success. “It has been a long day, Veeg. Forgive me, I’m not…acting my part right now, am I?”
He grit his teeth. “Hush, none of that. My queen’s troubles are every bit my concern. Will you not tell your husband of them?”
Her expression soured further with his question. His wife reached out and placed her other hand over his. Viego, in turn, took them both, leaving a kiss to them.
“What happened, Isolde?” He urged her.
She heaved another sigh and looked away. “The court is…unhappy with me.”
The concern on his face was quick to turn darker. He squeezed her hands. “Again with this–” he sucked in a sharp breath. “I will speak with them! I’ll not tolerate another day of this continued blatant disrespe–”
“No, my love,” she cut him off. “No, it was not to do with my—humble origins,” she said with more than enough disdain in her voice. “Not this time.”
“Then what? What, by the names of my ancestors could they possibly have found fault with yet again?” he demanded.
“An heir,” she said. “They are displeased that I have yet to provide you with an heir.”
Silence was all that followed that sentence. Viego stared up at his wife, eyes wide with no discernable expression on his face other than shock. The strength that he used to hold her hands, however, spoke to an entirely different emotion. “And what say you? Do you want children?”
“It is not that. It is that we’ve not spoken of it yet…”
“Then we speak of it now. Does my wife wish to have children?” He repeated, running his thumb along her knuckles.
“I…” she trailed off and then took a deep breath. “I do. I want a family with you. I’ve wanted it always, but do you? Do you want children Viego?” she asked, knitting her fingers together with his.
The King’s brow furrowed. It wasn’t a question he’d ever considered. It was not a question at all. It was an expectation. Viego was king. He would have a child; he would produce an heir. To consider otherwise would be unthinkable and foolish. It was something that had always left another piece of his heart resentful of this position he’d been forced into—at least until he met Isolde. Beside her the thought did not seem so crazy. In fact, the idea was one he liked, and even wanted. With his queen beside him anything was possible. He could be a good king, a good husband, perhaps even a good father. Better than his own, at least.
A smile, morphing into a smirk slowly crept onto his face. “Do I want children with my wife? My kind and gentle Isolde, whom could not be more fit to be a mother? Is that what you’re asking me?”
She couldn’t seem to fight her own smirk coming to replace her frown. “Aye, my king,” she said. “Do you think yourself fit to be a father?”
Viego ran his hand under his chin, faking a moment of serious contemplation with an exaggerated hum. “I’m not sure. That would require not just that I love and cherish my queen, but also our children, that I be everything my father and brother were not. Such a daunting task you would ask of me!”
Isolde was not quick enough to hide her laughter behind her hand, the edges of her smile peeking out as she spoke. “Oh, but it is demanded of us, dear husband. Lest we prove ourselves even more an embarrassment to this kingdom…”
A deep and troubled sigh left the king, his face going to rest on her lap. “And were that not enough, am I to be expected to make love to my beautiful wife nearly every day?” He asked, peeking up at Isolde before playfully kissing her lower thigh.
She giggled, caressing his hair and slightly parting her legs, enough for Viego to notice. “Yes, I do believe such terrible things come with the territory.” She groaned. He could only smile at that, her drama and humor scattering butterflies in his stomach.
Viego let go of the one hand he still held, gripping her thighs instead as he let out an over dramatic cry against her skin. “Ancestors spare me of such a burden!”
“But then what are we to tell the court, my love?” she asked.
He scoffed, pressing his lips back to a spot further up her leg still covered by fabric. “My queen will carry my children because we wish it. Forget the demands of the court.”
“Then tell me,” she said, lifting his face up to look at her. “What does the king want?”
The grin on his face broadened, “You, my queen, my darling Isolde. I want you.”
She raised an eyebrow. “And what do you intend to tell the court, dear husband?”
Viego’s hands slid further up his wife’s legs, pushing the hem of her silk gown up around her waist and revealing a distinct lack of anything underneath. The king felt something just short of an electric shock travel up his spine. “Tell them that I am seeing to this issue personally .”
Not a second more was wasted between those words and Viego leaning forward, his face nestling between his wife’s legs.
Isolde gasped and froze as his kiss turned intense and sloppy between her folds. “Veeg–!” she yelped, spreading her legs wider and taking hold of his head.
He savored that cry like he did the taste of her. One kiss turned to many as he went down on her, thumbs running along that sensitive little spot where her legs met the rest of her body.
Isolde shuddered, moaning and rocking her hips urgently to meet his tongue that had started running up and down her lips, parting them and then focusing on her clit. His wife arched her back into him, tensing and tugging at his hair. “Viego—oh! Yes!” She fell back, unable to keep upright any longer.
Viego did not let that stop him. In fact, feeling her fall back and all but melt into their mattress only encouraged him to give her more. He gripped Isolde tightly and pulled her into him, ravaging every last bit of her, teasing her clit with small licks before pressing his tongue hard against her and sucking. Every moan, and shiver drove him further, clawing at her hips and holding her down.
“Cum for me,” he breathed against her, leaving a tender kiss just above her lips before he went back in for more, the rhythm of each kiss and lick seemed to pitch her voice a little higher.
“Viego!” She cried. “There, yes—! Right there!”
He knew her, knew how she moaned and tensed when she was close, he took some satisfaction in keeping her on the edge of her orgasm for as long as he could. But her pleas, and begs for him to let her finish, made him merciful. He gave her what she wanted, focused and intense attention on her clit, finally bringing her to climax.
“Fates, yes! I’m—Veeg, don’t stop–I’m–oh!” Her voice cracked and she gasped, straining and pulling on his hair until she collapsed. His wife fell back against the bed, speaking only hints of his names in breathless whines. She shivered, one last echo of her orgasm passing through her with a sigh. “Viego…”
The king leaned over her, a satisfied smirk on his face as he licked his lips. “Did it feel good, my love?”
Isolde held out her arms, answering her king with a strong embrace that he laid into and a kiss, searching to taste herself on his tongue.
“I love you,” she whispered between their lips, smiling each time he kissed her.
Viego pushed up the rest of her nightgown, tossing it aside in the brief moment he allowed their lips to part. He climbed further onto the bed, his hand reaching to start tugging off his robes once he was positioned over her. “Come here, my love.” He gripped her waist, pressing their bodies together. It slowed down her panting and they slid upwards into the pillows, Viego all too eager to start showering her body in kisses. By the time he was done with there would be no doubt that she was carrying his child.
But not yet. He would give her a moment to recover. For now, he concentrated his efforts on kissing her, whispering soft, comforting words in her ear as she finally caught her breath. Isolde held him. She pressed her fingers into his back and sought to cling to him, shy moans leaving her again as he kissed and marked her neck.
“Viego,” she sighed, and he echoed her, excited by the sound of his name by itself —few people dared to even use it — and it was only her that could make it sound so soft, so soothing.
He went back for another kiss on her lips, pushing deeper to feel her tongue run along his. Meanwhile, his hands trailed and pressed into her skin. He knew every line and curve of her body, but in the nearly two years since they’d met, he’d never tired of exploring her. He traced her sides with his fingertips, barely grazing her skin. Isolde responded with a shiver and a quivering moan.
Viego smiled into their kiss and did it again and again. With every caress of this little spot near her hips she began to twist and writhe under him. She whined his name against his lips, but he didn’t stop just yet, not until she turned her head away. Then he stopped, letting his palm settle completely into the curves of her waist. Viego soothed her, pressing a kiss to her cheek and then back to her neck. “That’s it my love, I have you.” He assured her. But the break he gave her was short lived. Soon enough, he resumed this ghosting caress up her stomach before he indulged himself, cupping her breasts and squeezing.
His teeth, that he dragged down her neck, turned to hungry kisses, drifting downwards to her shoulders and collarbones. Switching between his lips, teeth, and tongue, Viego tugged and sucked on her skin until he was satisfied, insistent that proof of his love be everywhere she looked when she stood in the mirror.
Isolde whined and kept tugging at his hair, her nails dragging along his scalp in a quiet urge to continue. “Veeg…”
A content hum left the king as his lips finally reached her breasts, where he lingered with messier kisses and long glides of his tongue, ensuring he tasted every last bit of her, before he settled his face between them. Viego planted a few kisses there too as he sighed comfortably. “I love you so much.” His voice was muffled against her skin, but his hips that had started rubbing into her leg conveyed the message clear enough. He needed her. The aching pace of his affections was an intoxicating but agonizing one. Viego moaned with a few especially needy grinds into her.
“Veeg.” Isolde pressed her hand against the back of his head. He needed no further encouragement and pulled himself back up to kiss her lips, far more desperate than before.
His queen held his face and then let that touch slip, putting space between them in the wake of her palm sliding down his chest, and stomach, making him shiver. It stopped at his belt, making quick work of it before she grabbed his ass.
Viego’s breath hitched, and he surged forward, pushing the bulge in his pants back against her. “Ancestors, you drive me crazy…” he panted. He’d had enough. His pants were last to go, leaving them both bare. He brought his hand back to her. Like the rest of his touches, it was slow. His fingers ran down over her stomach and through that little tuft of hair. She was so wet, and—as the finger that came to rest on her clit discovered—quite sensitive, too. Isolde shuddered, arching her hips for more. He was eager to grant it, slowly sliding a finger inside her. “Do you want it, my love?” he purred, fingering her slowly.
His wife shut her eyes tight and nodded. “Yes,” she breathed.
He pulled away, his right hand sliding down her waist to her thigh. Isolde spread her legs further and smiled.
That was as good an invitation as any. Viego started to rock his hips, this time rubbing up against her directly, desperate for this pleasurable torment to end. He needed her, wanted her, he had to be inside her, now . “Do you want a boy or a girl, my queen?” he asked, prodding her entrance.
Isolde shifted her hips into him impatiently. “A girl.”
That made him smile. “I see,” he said, and without another word Viego pressed into her, sinking deep inside her, all the way, in one long thrust. The king let out a satisfied moan. She was so warm, and already soaked from her orgasm. It felt amazing.
Isolde’s voice cracked in one high pitched gasp, one of her hands reaching for his.
“I have you my love,” he cooed with a quick squeeze of her hand, giving her time to adjust before he lifted her legs up onto his shoulders and started to move. He kept it steady, running his hands along her legs as he established a gentle rhythm.
His love gripped the sheets and smiled when she moaned, slowly starting to match his pace with her hips. “Veeg,” she sighed.
“Does it—feel good, my queen?”
“Yes.” Isolde tilted her head back. “More, Veeg, give me—more.”
A smirk turned his lips up further as he pressed on her legs, pushing them back and moving with them until he was leaning over her. What started gentle got more intense, faster, hitting her as deep as he could at this angle. It was good, especially coupled with the sound of her whimpers. She moaned loudly, closing her eyes and letting her body roll with his thrusts. It made him thrust harder, trying to pull screams out of her moans—ancestors, she had such a beautiful voice.
“Veeg, Viego–ah!” she cried out. He never got tired of it, but this position wasn’t working. It wasn’t enough, for him at least.
Viego slowed his rhythm, pulling out so he could readjust them.
“My love?” Isolde turned her head to look at him as he laid beside her and brought her back flush against his chest.
Reassuring kisses on her neck and cheek were his only response, his hands busy pulling back one of her legs so he could ease his way back inside. “Isolde–my love–oh–yes, that’s it dearest, that’s it.” He moaned in her ear, wasting no time in starting again.
He could touch so much more of her like this. While his face stayed pressed into her hair, his hands found their way along her body, squeezing one of her breasts and sliding back between her legs to rub her clit as he thrust.
Isolde placed her hands over his, pressing his palm down on her groin. He could almost feel himself through her skin, could feel how he parted her walls with every thrust. He loved it and pressed down harder, making her scream.
“Ah, yes! Viego, yes! Don’t stop!” she cried out, rocking her hips to meet his. He didn’t dare stop. His wife, the sound of their bodies meeting, the lingering scent of her perfume, the way her voice cracked and broke when he hit all the spots she loved, it drove him mad. He loved her so much. She was…the only one he would ever want to have a child with.
His queen turned her head to look at him, her eyes half lidded and glassy. “My love!” She held his hand that remained on her chest. Viego kissed her, drowning out her cries with their tongues, and their breaths that grew heavier by the minute.
“Viego–!” she whined against his lips.
“Yes, my love, say—my name, say it for me, I’m close—” he begged her, pressing down harder, keeping his rhythm steady. He could feel it in her, too. Her insides clamped down on him more and her voice got higher. All of it built to the sound of his beloved chanting his name like a prayer to her gods and then–she came again, so intensely it nearly forced him from her. But he powered through her orgasm, chasing after his own as his love was in a mess in his arms. Unable to even say his name anymore, it was her muscles still tensing around him that brought him over the edge, suddenly.
“My love!” Viego held her as he finally climaxed. A rush of heat and blinding euphoria poured out of him and filled her. He pressed his fingers into her skin, clinging to her and gasping for breath into her hair.
Isolde tugged at the hand on her chest, threading her fingers with his as all the tension left their bodies and they collapsed into each other. Viego pressed his face into her shoulder, leaving breathless little kisses against her skin. “Isolde, my love, my queen…” He turned them further onto their sides as he pulled out, taking his last bit of satisfaction from the little wince she made when did. He kept his hand between her legs in an effort to keep as much of him inside her as he could
Viego could hear his smile as she hummed and shifted back and forth a bit until she was comfortable. “Mmm, Veeg, you did so well,”
He left a little kiss behind her ear this time, turning into her further. His hand ran along her stomach, rubbing it gently as they settled down and Isolde pulled the sheet just over their legs, one of which Viego brought over her own, holding her close.
Isolde sighed comfortably and rested her hand over his again. “Do you want a boy or a girl, my love?”
“Me?”
“Yes, hoping for a son that will be the spitting image of his father?”
Viego continued the slow drifts of his hand over her stomach, his mind getting stuck in the image of his wife pregnant with their child, and how beautiful she would be. He could see himself holding their newborn, looking down at his wife, and when he thought of their baby, he knew what he hoped for. “Mm do not let the court know of it, but I, too, want a daughter. A girl as bright and kind as her mother.”
She giggled, and turned over in his arms, snuggling up to him. “Really?” she asked, a hint of disbelief in her smile. “You want a girl?”
“The women in my life are my reasons for staying sane. I dare not stray from that path,”
Isolde responded with another happy sigh against his chest. It was a relief to hear it after she’d been so unhappy earlier this evening. Recalling it made the smile on his lips thin.
"My love, may we speak?” Viego asked, a knot of concern tangling in his chest.
Isolde propped up on an elbow. “What is it, Veeg? Is something the matter?”
“Is this,” he gestured between them, “is this too much? The burden of a child should not be taken so lightly, and indeed tonight we have made light of it. Do you truly wish for this, with me? I beg your honesty.”
It brought him a little relief to hear his queen’s airy chuckle. “Expectation dictates that we must have a child, my love. But do not let my mood earlier deceive you. Despite teetering on the idea with uncertainty, this is something I want. you,” she caressed his face, “you cemented that want in me.”
Viego felt the tension in his shoulder give away. “Isolde, forgive me if I ever hurt you,” he sighed.
“Wipe such dark thoughts from your mind, my king!” Isolde playfully nudged him, but she quickly brought him back in a kiss. “I love you.”
He pulled her into a tight-knit embrace. “And I love you, Isolde,” he said. “More than anything. The court, the kingdom, they can all be damned. All I want is you by my side.”
Isolde’s face was overcome with swift concern, but it quickly faded to a look of determination. “My King. We will see it all through—together.”
“Together,” Viego assured.
Isolde pressed her face back to his chest. “Yes, my love,” she said. “That is all of you that I will ever ask.”
He chuckled. “Oh, is that all ?”
“Hmm well maybe I might ask that we name our daughter Gwen.”
“Ah, now I see! I see the scheme you’ve concocted, my Queen! Warrior princess Gwen shall finally become a reality? The prophecy fulfilled?” In a renewed burst of energy, he tickled her, making his wife shriek with laughter as she tried to turn away and ball herself up in defense.
“You’ve caught me, you’ve caught me, my king! It was my plan all along!”
“How could I be so blind?” Viego pulled her back, going for her sides when she curled up to protect her stomach. “Tricked by my love just so she could see the princess foretold by the ancient texts brought into this world.”
Isolde twisted away from him again, this time throwing herself back against his chest. “And I would have seen it realized! My king is too cunning and saw through my plans.”
Viego let out a deep and dramatic sigh. “I am but one man, who am I to deny the fate foretold by ancient ones?”
“Then, you like it?” she asked.
“Yes, my love, I do. So, we had better get back to work.” His next kiss was deeper, pressing her back against the mattress.
“Round two then, is it?” she smirked, slipping her arms around his neck.
“Aye, my love.” His kisses started to drag along her skin once more, his hands pulling her legs up over his back. “By the time we’re done, of our intentions, there will be no doubt .”