fill for prompt: https://theoldguardkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/9603.html?thread=3315331#cmt3315331 (url)
So, um, yeah. This is where my brain went when I read all of the Nicolo/Yusuf spoils of war, gifting of Nicolo prompts... it honestly feels like this story is an amalgamation of little things from all the prompts, but I'm just going to link the first one that sparked my imagination.
I didn't mean to make it all from Nicolo's perspective either. So, if anybody feels inspired by this fic and wants to either continue it or write the whole thing from King Yusuf's perspective I would love that because I have tried to write more and keep coming up with nothing.
also, this in theory is a really dark, noncon subject(gifting people/marrying them off to people they didn't choose)... but turns out I have a hard time writing my immortal battle husbands as non con and this (i think) reads as more dubcon (ie the prophecy, and how much Nicolo is just kinda vibin...). But, I'm keeping the noncon warning in the title because of how Nicolo actually has no choice in the whole matter...
Anybody expecting angst from this prompt will probably not enjoy the smut that is written below! But, if you are wanting smut, I really hope you enjoy the fill below.
----------------------
Prince Nicolo is not surprised by the events unfolding around him. The dark smoke of war has been steadily growing on the horizon for the past few weeks. When the armies finally arrived at their walls, he knew his country's own small forces had no chance of victory against both King Yusuf’s already impressive army and the additional help from a fierce clan of female warriors, who had up until now remained neutral in their cold war standoff. With the election of the fierce Andromache to leader of the clan, they had apparently decided to take sides in the land feud and had chosen against Prince Nicolo’s small kingdom, Genoa.
As the camps were built outside of the fortified capitol neither his father, nor he, could justify the needless loss of life of their people for a battle they knew they could not win.
So, his father had ridden off to King Yusuf’s encampment, white flag raised with a small group of his trusted knights to negotiate the terms of the surrender.
The terms King Yusuf demanded in exchange for the promise of safety for their people was no small price. Of course, the royal family would be stripped of all titles. A new Lord chosen by the king and the warriors would be installed to begin the political transition. There was also the gifting of money, jewels, and... the only heir, Prince Nicolo.
Prince Nicolo could tell his father’s heart was heavy when he returned from those negotiations. He knows it couldn’t have been easy to gift his only son to the king of a conquering army. But, Prince Nicolo has been taught from birth the importance of serving his subjects. This was his duty to them, to his kingdom and he would do his best to bear it with grace and dignity.
Finally the day he was to leave for his new life arrived. First, he had been washed and adorned with oils and jewels, both ears now pierced along with his nipples. There were silver bracelets locked around his wrists and delicate gold chains around his ankles. All conditions of the surrender.
Soon, though, he finds himself walking down to the front gates to meet his father. He hates that he must see him like this, but his presence to the exchange is also conditional to the surrendering terms. They hug one another one last time and tell the other how much they love the other right before the thundering hooves of the envoy can be heard.
Two women on horseback lead the team. Dark haired warriors, they look as beautiful as they are fierce.
“Good to see you again, sir.” One of the women says as her horse prances to a stop.
“Andromache.” Nicolo’s father greets her, bowing his head down for a few seconds.
“And, this must be Nicolo.” She says looking down at him.
Her companion laughs. “I can see now why Yusuf wants him.”
These words cause Nicolo’s entire body to flush. He is still a virgin.
A prophecy spoken when he was born said that the person he was meant to spend his life with would arrive by his 18th birthday, the birthday he was to celebrate the following month. Another reason he is not totally surprised by the events unfolding around him.
He has kept himself pure his entire life. Stopping himself from engaging in sexual acts with others and also with himself. He wanted it to be a special moment between him and whoever he was fated for, wanted to experience all of his firsts with them, only. This was not exactly how he imagined the prophecy unfolding when he had thought about it as a young boy.
A large carriage pulls up behind the women. Two attendants jumping down to gather the waiting chests. In no time, it has all been loaded.
Nicolo watches distantly as the last chest is strapped down. He steps forward thinking he is going to ride in the carriage to meet his new master. But, it seems the attendants aren’t done. They open the carriage and pull out their own chest. He can’t reason why, they were not getting anything in return. The chest is beautiful though. It is taller than it is wide and probably comes to about his belly button. Bright gold with intricate patterns inlaid into the soft metal. Jewels sparkle out even on this overcast afternoon.
Opening the chest, the attendants began to pull out chains and rope. He stops in his tracks just a few feet from these men, from this box. They begin walking toward him and he wants to run, to beg to stay. But, he squares his shoulders and instead prepares himself for the servitude of his birthright.
One of the attendants fastens a silver collar around his neck that he locks on with a small padlock. The other has come behind him and caught his wrists wrapping them quickly together before tying them off with rope. He is gently pushed to his knees. Chains are wrapped around him so that his ankles are connected to his thighs, his thighs connected to his chest and his bound arms connected to his back. He has been folded up into a neat little package. When they finish locking everything on him with more of the small padlocks, the attendants pick him up and start moving him toward the chest.
Nicolo begins to squirm when he realizes they mean to put him in there. He is literally to be opened like a present for the king. He obviously doesn’t have much say in the matter either when they easily maneuver him into the box, sitting him down with his ass and feet first so that he is sitting upright on them, his chin able to rest on his knees. He is thankful that the bottom of the box has a plush pillow to help make his new prison a little more comfortable, but that is where the hospitality ends. Within the box there are inlaid metal rings that the attendants run rope through before tying it to his chains, pulling the rope tight to keep him from jostling all over the place. They even connect rope from rings in the chest to those hanging from his new collar.
For the final piece of his new outfit they pull a leather harness onto his head with straps criss crossing over his face, under his eyes and jaw, and up to the crown of his head. It has a panel that has a large ball on one side, too, that he is slowly beginning to realize is meant to go in his mouth. In his first act of resistance he clamps his mouth shut, but the attendant just holds his nose until he must breath again allowing the ball to be pushed home. From the flat and simple panel on the other side, you wouldn’t know he was so thoroughly gagged. As they tighten the harness under his jaw, it silences his ability to speak even more. He attempts to voice his protests but the muffled sounds are unintelligible to even his ears. Like everything else, the top of the harness has a ring they are now threading the last of the rope through. Bringing the top of the chest down, he can feel them pull the rope through a ring on it. He tries to muffle another protest as the top is closed, throwing him into darkness. Then through some pulley system outside the box, this rope connected to his head harness is also pulled taut so that even his head is stuck in an upright and rigid, unmovable position.
He can then feel the chest being lifted and placed back in the carriage.
It has all happened so fast, it couldn’t have been more than five minutes. Now with the flurry of movement over, he actually has a chance to realize how ridiculously tightly he has been tied. He can move his fingers and toes and he can blink his eyes. But, with the chains connecting his limbs together and those chains being held in place by the rope in front, behind, to his left and right, he is barely able to even twist in his new cage. It sends an odd sensation toward his sex, an ache he has never really felt before except when he had thought about his life with that prophecized person. A warm feeling is pooling in his gut as he tries to ease this ache but none of the limited ways he can move his body do anything but make it worse.
He has never been one to be claustrophobic or scared of the dark and he is thankful for both of those things at the moment as he is yelling out stifled screams just from the indignation of it all.
Throughout the entire journey he is forced to keep this rigid posture or the rope connecting the head harness begins pulling into him, pushing the gag even further into his sore mouth. So, he can’t even rest on the way to his fate having to keep his muscles tensed and posture upright to avoid the strain. He wonders if this is being done to help him get used to being confined to the rigid limitations his new life will be full of.
It feels like hours have passed before he notices the carriage come to a stop. It is a few minutes later before the chest is lifted and carried a short distance. But even now, he is left waiting. His body getting progressively more sore and tired, the ache in his groin growing more noticeable the more time has passed.
Blessedly, not much time later he feels the first sign that he might be done with this cursed prison, the loosening hold of the rope connected to his head. He suppresses a moan as the top of the chest is slowly opened. He squints his eyes at this sudden intrusion of light after so many hours in complete darkness.
Looking up when his eyes have fully adjusted he is met with the beaming face of, an albeit, beautiful man. A well trimmed beard sits upon a sharp jaw. His warm brown eyes and incredible smile cause the back of Nicolo’s head to start to tingle before the feeling moves all the way down his spine. The perfectly groomed puff of curls on his head give him an almost boyish, youthful presence. He had known King Yusuf was a young ruler, but he hadn’t expected his new owner to cause him to blush at the first sight of him.
“Mmf mmmmff.” He is just pushing sounds out of the gag now knowing nobody will be able to understand him.
“Oh Prince Nicolo you are even more beautiful in person. I have seen portraits, but they do not do justice to those striking eyes.” He brings his hand down to cup Nicolo’s face. “Let’s get you out of this box so I can look at you properly.” His eyes twinkle with mischief and amusement, like Nicolo is a shiny new toy for him to play with.
Yusuf/Nicolo - dark AU - Prince Nicolo is the spoils of war to King Yusuf (non-con) (1/3)
So, um, yeah. This is where my brain went when I read all of the Nicolo/Yusuf spoils of war, gifting of Nicolo prompts... it honestly feels like this story is an amalgamation of little things from all the prompts, but I'm just going to link the first one that sparked my imagination.
I didn't mean to make it all from Nicolo's perspective either. So, if anybody feels inspired by this fic and wants to either continue it or write the whole thing from King Yusuf's perspective I would love that because I have tried to write more and keep coming up with nothing.
also, this in theory is a really dark, noncon subject(gifting people/marrying them off to people they didn't choose)... but turns out I have a hard time writing my immortal battle husbands as non con and this (i think) reads as more dubcon (ie the prophecy, and how much Nicolo is just kinda vibin...). But, I'm keeping the noncon warning in the title because of how Nicolo actually has no choice in the whole matter...
Anybody expecting angst from this prompt will probably not enjoy the smut that is written below! But, if you are wanting smut, I really hope you enjoy the fill below.
----------------------
Prince Nicolo is not surprised by the events unfolding around him. The dark smoke of war has been steadily growing on the horizon for the past few weeks. When the armies finally arrived at their walls, he knew his country's own small forces had no chance of victory against both King Yusuf’s already impressive army and the additional help from a fierce clan of female warriors, who had up until now remained neutral in their cold war standoff. With the election of the fierce Andromache to leader of the clan, they had apparently decided to take sides in the land feud and had chosen against Prince Nicolo’s small kingdom, Genoa.
As the camps were built outside of the fortified capitol neither his father, nor he, could justify the needless loss of life of their people for a battle they knew they could not win.
So, his father had ridden off to King Yusuf’s encampment, white flag raised with a small group of his trusted knights to negotiate the terms of the surrender.
The terms King Yusuf demanded in exchange for the promise of safety for their people was no small price. Of course, the royal family would be stripped of all titles. A new Lord chosen by the king and the warriors would be installed to begin the political transition. There was also the gifting of money, jewels, and... the only heir, Prince Nicolo.
Prince Nicolo could tell his father’s heart was heavy when he returned from those negotiations. He knows it couldn’t have been easy to gift his only son to the king of a conquering army. But, Prince Nicolo has been taught from birth the importance of serving his subjects. This was his duty to them, to his kingdom and he would do his best to bear it with grace and dignity.
Finally the day he was to leave for his new life arrived. First, he had been washed and adorned with oils and jewels, both ears now pierced along with his nipples. There were silver bracelets locked around his wrists and delicate gold chains around his ankles. All conditions of the surrender.
Soon, though, he finds himself walking down to the front gates to meet his father. He hates that he must see him like this, but his presence to the exchange is also conditional to the surrendering terms. They hug one another one last time and tell the other how much they love the other right before the thundering hooves of the envoy can be heard.
Two women on horseback lead the team. Dark haired warriors, they look as beautiful as they are fierce.
“Good to see you again, sir.” One of the women says as her horse prances to a stop.
“Andromache.” Nicolo’s father greets her, bowing his head down for a few seconds.
“And, this must be Nicolo.” She says looking down at him.
Her companion laughs. “I can see now why Yusuf wants him.”
These words cause Nicolo’s entire body to flush. He is still a virgin.
A prophecy spoken when he was born said that the person he was meant to spend his life with would arrive by his 18th birthday, the birthday he was to celebrate the following month. Another reason he is not totally surprised by the events unfolding around him.
He has kept himself pure his entire life. Stopping himself from engaging in sexual acts with others and also with himself. He wanted it to be a special moment between him and whoever he was fated for, wanted to experience all of his firsts with them, only. This was not exactly how he imagined the prophecy unfolding when he had thought about it as a young boy.
A large carriage pulls up behind the women. Two attendants jumping down to gather the waiting chests. In no time, it has all been loaded.
Nicolo watches distantly as the last chest is strapped down. He steps forward thinking he is going to ride in the carriage to meet his new master. But, it seems the attendants aren’t done. They open the carriage and pull out their own chest. He can’t reason why, they were not getting anything in return. The chest is beautiful though. It is taller than it is wide and probably comes to about his belly button. Bright gold with intricate patterns inlaid into the soft metal. Jewels sparkle out even on this overcast afternoon.
Opening the chest, the attendants began to pull out chains and rope. He stops in his tracks just a few feet from these men, from this box. They begin walking toward him and he wants to run, to beg to stay. But, he squares his shoulders and instead prepares himself for the servitude of his birthright.
One of the attendants fastens a silver collar around his neck that he locks on with a small padlock. The other has come behind him and caught his wrists wrapping them quickly together before tying them off with rope. He is gently pushed to his knees. Chains are wrapped around him so that his ankles are connected to his thighs, his thighs connected to his chest and his bound arms connected to his back. He has been folded up into a neat little package. When they finish locking everything on him with more of the small padlocks, the attendants pick him up and start moving him toward the chest.
Nicolo begins to squirm when he realizes they mean to put him in there. He is literally to be opened like a present for the king. He obviously doesn’t have much say in the matter either when they easily maneuver him into the box, sitting him down with his ass and feet first so that he is sitting upright on them, his chin able to rest on his knees. He is thankful that the bottom of the box has a plush pillow to help make his new prison a little more comfortable, but that is where the hospitality ends. Within the box there are inlaid metal rings that the attendants run rope through before tying it to his chains, pulling the rope tight to keep him from jostling all over the place. They even connect rope from rings in the chest to those hanging from his new collar.
For the final piece of his new outfit they pull a leather harness onto his head with straps criss crossing over his face, under his eyes and jaw, and up to the crown of his head. It has a panel that has a large ball on one side, too, that he is slowly beginning to realize is meant to go in his mouth. In his first act of resistance he clamps his mouth shut, but the attendant just holds his nose until he must breath again allowing the ball to be pushed home. From the flat and simple panel on the other side, you wouldn’t know he was so thoroughly gagged. As they tighten the harness under his jaw, it silences his ability to speak even more. He attempts to voice his protests but the muffled sounds are unintelligible to even his ears. Like everything else, the top of the harness has a ring they are now threading the last of the rope through. Bringing the top of the chest down, he can feel them pull the rope through a ring on it. He tries to muffle another protest as the top is closed, throwing him into darkness. Then through some pulley system outside the box, this rope connected to his head harness is also pulled taut so that even his head is stuck in an upright and rigid, unmovable position.
He can then feel the chest being lifted and placed back in the carriage.
It has all happened so fast, it couldn’t have been more than five minutes. Now with the flurry of movement over, he actually has a chance to realize how ridiculously tightly he has been tied. He can move his fingers and toes and he can blink his eyes. But, with the chains connecting his limbs together and those chains being held in place by the rope in front, behind, to his left and right, he is barely able to even twist in his new cage. It sends an odd sensation toward his sex, an ache he has never really felt before except when he had thought about his life with that prophecized person. A warm feeling is pooling in his gut as he tries to ease this ache but none of the limited ways he can move his body do anything but make it worse.
He has never been one to be claustrophobic or scared of the dark and he is thankful for both of those things at the moment as he is yelling out stifled screams just from the indignation of it all.
Throughout the entire journey he is forced to keep this rigid posture or the rope connecting the head harness begins pulling into him, pushing the gag even further into his sore mouth. So, he can’t even rest on the way to his fate having to keep his muscles tensed and posture upright to avoid the strain. He wonders if this is being done to help him get used to being confined to the rigid limitations his new life will be full of.
It feels like hours have passed before he notices the carriage come to a stop. It is a few minutes later before the chest is lifted and carried a short distance. But even now, he is left waiting. His body getting progressively more sore and tired, the ache in his groin growing more noticeable the more time has passed.
Blessedly, not much time later he feels the first sign that he might be done with this cursed prison, the loosening hold of the rope connected to his head. He suppresses a moan as the top of the chest is slowly opened. He squints his eyes at this sudden intrusion of light after so many hours in complete darkness.
Looking up when his eyes have fully adjusted he is met with the beaming face of, an albeit, beautiful man. A well trimmed beard sits upon a sharp jaw. His warm brown eyes and incredible smile cause the back of Nicolo’s head to start to tingle before the feeling moves all the way down his spine. The perfectly groomed puff of curls on his head give him an almost boyish, youthful presence. He had known King Yusuf was a young ruler, but he hadn’t expected his new owner to cause him to blush at the first sight of him.
“Mmf mmmmff.” He is just pushing sounds out of the gag now knowing nobody will be able to understand him.
“Oh Prince Nicolo you are even more beautiful in person. I have seen portraits, but they do not do justice to those striking eyes.” He brings his hand down to cup Nicolo’s face. “Let’s get you out of this box so I can look at you properly.” His eyes twinkle with mischief and amusement, like Nicolo is a shiny new toy for him to play with.