theoldguardkinkmeme (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
theoldguardkinkmeme) wrote2020-07-22 10:07 am
theoldguardkinkmeme) wrote2020-07-22 10:07 am
Fills Post
This Fills Post is now closed to new fills. New fills should go in Fills Post #2.
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FILL: Joe/Nicky, The Prince Is Getting Married, Royalty AU [3/5]
(Anonymous) 2020-09-22 06:01 am (UTC)(link)“My father almost didn’t send me at all,” Nicolò muttered to him. “He knew it was for show.”
“If you have changed your mind,” Yusuf muttered back, “I have a friend who would be just thrilled to help you escape the palace. It’s the sort of thing she does for fun.”
Nicolò shook his head, very firmly. Yusuf wondered what was waiting for him back in Genova.
They signed the contracts and made their promises, and the imam gave a thankfully brief sermon. The feast, of course, had already occurred. Yusuf’s father came over and said “Your mother cannot deal with this right now, but tomorrow we are going to have a discussion,” his eyebrows drawn down, and Yusuf would have been worried by that except he had just stumbled upon the much more worrying thought that of course they were expected to consummate the marriage, and there was an excellent chance his new husband was a virgin, because wasn’t that what Christian clerics were supposed to be, and what was he going to do with that? He had been given a lot of advice by his father (that he wished he could forget) on what to do with a virgin bride, which had inadvertently informed him that his mother had not been one, which was the part he wanted to forget most. But everybody expected that men knew what they were about.
In a very short amount of time he found himself standing with Nicolò in his private chambers, which had an equal number of scrolls scattered around and weapons hung decoratively on the wall – although a number of servants had unfortunately discovered while cleaning that they were only hung decoratively. He and Nicolò stared at each other. It was late, but Yusuf was still riding a wave of adrenaline.
“Can we talk first?” he said, knowing it was abrupt. “I would like to talk.”
“Alright,” said Nicolò, with a pointed glance at the bed; he certainly wasn’t blushing, whether or not he was a virgin. “Go on.”
“Not here,” Yusuf said, and led him out onto the balcony, which overlooked the sea. If you stood on the railing, which was very stupid and dangerous and I do not mind raising another queen rather than a king but if I need to train Noor I need to start now, Yusuf, so please inform me if you mean to throw yourself off this cliff, in the words of his mother, if you stood on the railing, you could grasp a ledge and – if you were of a reasonable height, and in good training – climb up onto the roof. You could also get there climbing down from the rooftop garden that was his hill-country-raised father’s joy, but you entered that garden through his parents’ quarters, so Yusuf had always gone up this way.
“There are much easier ways to kill me,” Nicolò said, but scrambled up after him quickly enough. “Why are we going to talk on a roof?”
“Because,” Yusuf said, and turned him around to face the sea, spread out before them, and the glimmering trail of moonlight that led from the palace to the horizon. The extra height let you see over the bulk of the palace to the curve of the bay, and the city spreading out under the moonlight. Yusuf’s kingdom, one day; or at least its heart.
“Ohhhhh,” said Nicolò, in wonder. “Thank you.”
Yusuf hadn’t brought him up here for Nicolò’s sake; he barely knew him. Or maybe he had. He was suddenly unsure.
“It is my favourite view,” he said. “It’s a little better from my parents’ garden, up there-“ he pointed behind them, “but they will live for many years yet, God willing, so for the moment this is the best way for me to see it. And for you.”
“I like the sea,” Nicolò said. “We are a trading city. I am sure you know.”
“Among other things,” Yusuf said. The Genovese were feared as pirates, as well. “Nicolò…will you tell me why you accepted? I know you did not come here to marry me.”
“I didn’t join a monastery because – that is, I find peace in God, but I did not feel a need to spend all my days praising Him,” said Nicolò. “But after my first campaign, it became clear to me that if I carried a sword for my father, I would be expected to kill people for our power and our wealth and I could not – I could not. And there were not a lot of other options for avoiding it, save professing a religious vocation, late-found. Or running away, but to be quite honest I had no idea where to go.”
Yusuf’s mouth dropped open. He had not been expecting that. “So this is…another form of running away?”
“Well, I was not considering it before tonight, even though your palace is lovely and your people seem happy.” Nicolò gave him that same curious smile he had the first time. “But you smiled at me, and you let your friend tease you in front of everybody, and you were kind to the people who were afraid or did not want to be there. And, you know,” he let his eyes roam across Yusuf, “it would not be a hardship.”
“I was sure you were a virgin,” said Yusuf. “Aren’t monks supposed to be?”
“I mean, certainly, they are supposed to be, the same as you are not supposed to drink wine,” said Nicolò, which was a low hit but a fair one. “But you would be amazed how very un-virginal most of them are. I certainly was.”
“God be praised,” said Yusuf, who felt his chances of enjoying his wedding night had just gone up significantly. Nicolò seemed to take this as a sign that he should kiss him. Yusuf thought that showed great good sense. They still hadn’t entirely cleared up the virginity question but Nicolò had clearly kissed and been kissed before. Yusuf licked into his mouth and he opened the way, threading the fingers of one hand through Yusuf’s unruly curls and tugging a little. Yusuf liked that very much. He couldn’t do any of the other things he would like to do perched on a roof, though, so he pulled back – or tried to. Nicolò kept him there, and kissed him more deeply. They were absolutely going to fall to their deaths. Yusuf didn’t care.
“Perhaps we should climb down,” Nicolò said, eventually. His green eyes were all pupil, and Yusuf could feel the heat of his body, tantalizing inches away. Yusuf was going to eat him alive.
“I have a very fine bed,” Yusuf murmured. “If we -”
They both froze at the same moment. There were voices on the balcony.
FILL: Joe/Nicky, The Prince Is Getting Married, Royalty AU [4/5]
(Anonymous) 2020-09-22 06:44 am (UTC)(link)“Where are they?” said one. “They should be here, my lord.”
“Maybe the Genovan ran away,” said the other. “He’s a meek little mouse; I heard his father had to pack him off to a monastery because he proved so much of a coward on his first campaign.”
Yusuf glanced at Nicolò, whose lip was curled in a sneer, a martial light in his eye. He didn’t look much like a mouse.
“Keane,” he mouthed silently. Yusuf nodded; he had it now.
“Doesn’t that solve the problem, my lord?” asked the other.
“No,” Keane growled. “They both made a mockery of me, that is, of Prince Stephen and I, with this marriage. I want them both dead.”
Yusuf knew this was very serious – they were both in feast clothes, and unarmed except for eating knives, and a guest was planning their assassination – but he couldn’t help rolling his eyes. How, exactly, were Keane and his men planning to escape? Besides which, his parents would mourn suitably, and then cheerfully declare war on Stephen's lands and start preparing Yusuf’s next-youngest sister for the throne. Yusuf did not make the mistake of thinking himself entirely indispensable to his kingdom’s future.
Carefully, carefully, he made his way to the edge. Keane and one of his men were standing facing the sea. He looked over at Nicolò, and held up three fingers. Two. One.
They jumped at the same time, Yusuf aiming for Keane, Nicolò for the other man. Yusuf had meant to snatch Keane’s sword and put him on the ground, but he rolled onto his feet to find that the man’s neck was at a very unnatural angle. His mother was definitely going to kill him now. Maybe just put his eyes out and keep him in a high chamber, as an example. The options were numerous, really.
Nicolò’s man was choking but not down; Yusuf hit him in the head with the hilt of his knife. He would probably die, but that could not be helped.
“No armour,” Nicolò said, short and swift, and scooped up Keane’s longsword. Yusuf followed him in.
In his private chamber, Prince Stephen was standing, looking very put out, with another four men. Not good odds, except that as Nicolò had said, none of them were armoured, having come from the feast. Yusuf ripped his second-favourite saif off the wall – not decorative, not at all – and went to work, with the element of surprise. Nicolò was carving through them like a man possessed. All Yusuf had to do was slice through one man’s elbow, making him drop his shortsword, and bring his blade to Prince Stephen’s neck. He had backed up against the wall, eyes wide with terror.
“Where,” he stuttered – in Latin – “Where is Duke Keane?”
“Dead,” Yusuf said, in Arabic. “Did you think you would do this and escape?”
“You were guests,” said Nicolò, hard and furious. There was blood spattered across his face, other men’s, and it lent him an entirely different air. It was very unfortunate, given the situation, that it mostly made Yusuf want to fuck him even more badly.
“I was having a very good wedding night,” Yusuf said, not lowering his blade.
“We were having a very good wedding night.” Nicolò raised his own stolen weapon.
“Yes, that is right,” Yusuf agreed. "We were, and you decided to interrupt it."
Stephen licked his lips. “I am the ruler of a whole kingdom! I am one of the wealthiest men in Christendom! You cannot – you rejected me, both of us, for this, this…defective monk!”
“I am the heir of a whole kingdom, I do not want anything in Christendom, and he appreciates a good view,” said Yusuf. “As far as I am concerned that makes him worth keeping.”
He flicked his eyes to Nicolò, and nodded to the door; Nicolò strode over and opened it, calling “Guards!”
Stephen was still saying something; Yusuf had stopped listening to him entirely.
FILL: Joe/Nicky, The Prince Is Getting Married, Royalty AU [5/5]
(Anonymous) 2020-09-22 06:49 am (UTC)(link)The door had barely closed behind them before Nicolò pinned him to it with a happy growling noise, which again demonstrated his great good sense. There was a brief interlude after they had disrobed where it became evident that both of them were competing for the privilege of getting their mouth on the other one’s cock first, but Nicolò handily solved that by saying “Wait, wait,” and demonstrating that it was possible for both of them to be satisfied in that regard at the same time, if they lay down on the bed together.
“Oh, is this what they teach you in monasteries?” Yusuf said, licking a line up Nicolò’s very pretty cock.
“Ah, not officially,” Nicolò gasped, and wrapped his mouth around Yusuf’s cock in…revenge did not seem to be the right word. They sucked each other lazily for a while until Nicolò had worked a spit-slicked thumb into Yusuf up to the first knuckle, and Yusuf broke away to say “If I finish you now, are you still going to be able to fuck me later?”
“Hngh,” Nicolò said, intelligently; his cock jumped in Yusuf’s hand. “Probably not. Do we…”
“There’s a vial of oil in my clothes,” said Yusuf. “I grabbed it before we left my chambers. Our chambers. Ahh, yes, do that again.”
“I like that you plan,” said Nicolò.
“Well, I watched you with that longsword,” said Yusuf, “and I decided that if I had to put up with – Nicolò – if I had to put up with an assassination attempt, after that interminable feast, I deserved to have you fuck me into the mattress.” He craned his neck and mouthed, carefully, at Nicolò’s balls.
Nicolò shivered against him. “Yes, yes, alright. Yusuf, if you want that you need to let me – Yusuf –”
He staggered away eventually, and staggered back. Yusuf did indeed spend the rest of his wedding night being very enjoyably fucked into the mattress by his new husband, who was very evidently not a virgin, which was Yusuf’s great good fortune.
“This is,” Nicolò said, much later and blurry with sleep and the languid aftermath of their activities, “a very different evening than I anticipated.”
“You and everybody else in this palace,” said Yusuf. “Regretting it?”
“Mmmmmmm,” Nicolò sighed, and wriggled more firmly into Yusuf’s grasp. Yusuf took that to mean he was not.
*
The next morning, a guard politely informed them that the queen was expecting them for breakfast. Also present were Yusuf’s father, of course, and the wazir, and Yusuf’s next-oldest sister Noor, who was presumably there as a dire warning of Yusuf’s expendability if he continued to act out in this manner.
“I didn’t want an alliance with Genova,” was the first thing his mother said to Nicolò, so the morning was off to an excellent start.
“Oh, my father does not want an alliance with you, either,” Nicolò said cheerfully. “We have made things very difficult. I apologise.”
“Did you have to kill Duke Keane?” grumbled the wazir.
“Yes,” said Yusuf and Nicolò at the same time.
“The thing is,” said Yusuf’s mother, “now I have to marry Noor to a Genovan so they can have a child to be your heir and continue the alliance.”
“I thought you didn’t want an alliance?” Nicolò blinked.
“I don’t. But now I have one, so we will make it work. I am sure your father will see sense.” Yusuf’s mother had the look in her eye that terrified sensible neighbouring monarchs.
“Marry her to a Venetian,” Nicolò suggested. “It will do just as well for the rest of the maritime Christian cities, and it will annoy my father no end, but he won’t be able to say anything against it.”
“What if I don’t want to marry a Venetian?” Noor objected.
“Some of them are almost human beings,” Nicolò said, apologetically.
“You are very quick to throw over your own family,” said Yusuf’s father, eyeing Nicolò thoughtfully. “And you said last night you would consider converting.”
“I am married to the heir to a kingdom, so naturally my allegiance must lie with my husband’s family,” said Nicolò. “Also, my father is a…” He frowned. “I’m not sure of the correct word in your tongue.”
“A dick?” said Yusuf, in Ligurian, helpfully.
“Yes, that,” Nicolò agreed. Yusuf’s father did not look soothed by this; he was very proper. His mother laughed.
“I’m not going to divorce him,” Yusuf said, grinning across the table at his husband.
“Tell me that again in six months,” said his mother. “Jafar, you said that there were some other matters we had to attend to urgently. What were they, again?”
The wazir, who had served his mother since she was young and claimed she had put all the grey in his beard, sighed. “The woman-king Andromache has kidnapped the Princess Quynh -”
“That’s all right,” Yusuf said hastily, “it was arranged.”
“Yes, I know,” said his mother. “Andromache would not spring that on me unawares. She has manners.” This was news to Yusuf.
“- and the Duchess Nile wishes to know if there are any Christian priests in the city; having been refused Prince Yusuf’s hand, she intends to wed one of her ladies.”
“Well, that isn’t difficult,” said Yusuf’s father. “Yusuf and Nicolò should attend, if she will allow it.”
“See, Yusuf,” said his mother, “if you had simply made a choice before last night, we wouldn’t have had all this trouble. Everybody would have known, and not got offended.”
“I had never met Nicolò before last night!”
“Just be more organised next time,” his mother grumbled. She turned to Nicolò. “Don’t take any of this amiss, dear; I think you are going to be an excellent addition to the family.” Yusuf’s father looked somewhat sceptical at this, but kept his peace, which was good enough.
“He is, and there isn’t going to be a next time,” Yusuf said, firmly, and smiled at his husband.
Re: FILL: Joe/Nicky, The Prince Is Getting Married, Royalty AU [5/5]
(Anonymous) 2020-09-22 09:27 am (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: Joe/Nicky, The Prince Is Getting Married, Royalty AU [5/5]
(Anonymous) 2020-09-22 02:09 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: Joe/Nicky, The Prince Is Getting Married, Royalty AU [5/5]
Re: FILL: Joe/Nicky, The Prince Is Getting Married, Royalty AU [5/5]
(Anonymous) 2020-09-22 03:21 pm (UTC)(link)that was delightful, DELIGHTFUL! I loved your Nicky, he was a right amount of competent, assured and sexy. Telling his in-laws to have Yusuf’s sister marry a Venetian. Scandalous.
Killing a bunch of assholes on your wedding night? The couples that slay together, stay together! I also loved Yusuf’s parents, they were trying to make the best of the bad situation (his mother revealing she was meant to divorce Yusuf’s father, lol)
That was amazing to read, didn’t expect to get a fill so quickly! Thank you!!
Re: FILL: Joe/Nicky, The Prince Is Getting Married, Royalty AU [5/5]
(Anonymous) 2020-09-22 04:12 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: Joe/Nicky, The Prince Is Getting Married, Royalty AU [5/5]
(Anonymous) 2020-09-22 06:33 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: Joe/Nicky, The Prince Is Getting Married, Royalty AU [5/5]
(Anonymous) 2020-09-22 06:14 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: Joe/Nicky, The Prince Is Getting Married, Royalty AU [5/5]
(Anonymous) 2020-09-22 06:55 pm (UTC)(link)SEQUEL FILL: Joe/Nicky, The Prince Is Getting Married, Royalty AU [1/?]
(Anonymous) 2020-09-22 10:12 pm (UTC)(link)“Marco,” said Nicolò, stopping dead in the middle of the marketplace. If he had been in the busiest one, down by the docks, he would immediately have had five people walk into him, newly-wed prince or no; since Yusuf and he were escorting Yusuf’s sister Noor, it was the marketplace in the royal quarter of the city, and there was a great deal more space.
“Nicolò?” Yusuf prompted him, when he said nothing more. As a statement, it hadn’t made a lot of sense.
Nicolò shook his head, and said in his native Ligurian “I – I thought I saw my brother Marco.” He shook his head again, and switched to Arabic. “But that can’t be right.”
“We would have had word if your father had sent a ship, surely,” said Yusuf.
“Surely,” Nicolò agreed, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. The ship that had brought Nicolò and his party to Yusuf’s Great Feast had gone back to Genova bearing the glad tidings that the Comte’s youngest son’s proposal had been accepted. No letter had yet returned. Yusuf’s mother had said to give it time.
“Is your sister buying a knife?” were the next words out of Nicolò’s mouth; Yusuf observed that one of his sister’s ladies was indeed taking possession of a very fine dagger. He got over there so fast that the two guards with them, who had been chatting between themselves, not concerned about his or his sister’s safety in the heart of their own city, were nearly left behind.
“Is that a present for someone?” Yusuf asked his sister.
“No, it’s for me,” Noor said. “Quynh said I needed more knives, especially since my brother had made such a -” She broke off, evidently remembering they were in public. “Such an unusual choice of husband.”
“Unusual, you are very kind,” said Nicolò, who had not missed that. Noor grinned shyly at him.
“When were you talking to Princess Quynh?” Yusuf asked, as they moved away.
“When I was helping her to, ah, prepare to leave,” said Noor. “After the feast. Mother told me I should show her the back way out to the stables.”
“How do you know the back way out to the stables?”
“I followed you when we were younger, of course.” Noor scowled at Yusuf. “And stop planning to take my nice new dagger away; your quarters are practically an armory.”
“I know how to use everything in my quarters,” said Yusuf.
“Nicolò’s going to give me lessons,” said Noor.
“I did say I would,” agreed Nicolò, not even a little bit apologetically.
“You can’t be alone with my sister, that would be entirely inappropriate,” said Yusuf. “I suppose I shall just have to help.”
“We never get to be alone, Yusuf,” his sister pointed out. “Our mother is the queen. Nobody is allowed to breathe inappropriately around me.”
“I suppose I shall just have to help anyway, to make sure you learn how to use it properly,” said Yusuf. Nicolò laughed.
Re: SEQUEL FILL: Joe/Nicky, The Prince Is Getting Married, Royalty AU [1/?]
(Anonymous) 2020-09-22 11:50 pm (UTC)(link)SEQUEL FILL: Joe/Nicky, The Prince Is Getting Married, Royalty AU [2/4]
(Anonymous) 2020-09-23 04:05 am (UTC)(link)“The next oldest,” said Nicolò. “He went out on campaign for the first time at the same time as me. He enjoyed it.”
Nicolò had never been terribly specific about exactly why he had taken against military life so badly, or not more than he had been on their wedding night; Yusuf had heard some tales of the Franks in Sicily and could imagine some of the details, not that any military campaign produced tales to gladden the heart.
“You must have enjoyed some of it,” Yusuf said. Nobody got to be quite as competent with a longsword as Nicolò was, in a deadly fight, without some love for it.
“Well, some,” said Nicolò. “Your sister also wants me to teach her how to use a crossbow, I feel obliged to tell you.”
“Of course she does,” said Yusuf. “She’s practicing in case she decides to assassinate me and take the throne herself.” Nicolò rightly rolled his eyes at that. “You may as well show me at the same time. I’ve never tried.”
“Maybe she can shoot Marco, if he ever does show up here,” said Nicolò. “I wouldn’t mind.”
“We’re pretending to have an alliance,” said Yusuf. “That isn’t going to help matters.”
“Yes.” Nicolò sighed. “What a pity.”
*
Unfortunately for everybody involved, it turned out that Nicolò had not been wrong about what he’d seen. The first Yusuf knew about it was when his brother – or actually it might not have been, Yusuf wasn’t very good at telling Franks (or Genovese, as Nicolò would remind him) apart when they were trying to assault him – anyway, the first Yusuf knew about was when he and Nicolò were out hawking with some of the court ten days later and somebody grabbed him from behind.
They had wandered a discreet distance away from the main party, although not so far that yelling would fail to alert anybody, they weren’t stupid. As Noor had pointed out the other day, given their positions, the amount of time they spent truly alone with each other was actually very limited. All Yusuf had really wanted to do was sit with his newlywed husband by the river, and pretend there were not a dozen courtiers and twice that many guards and servants within earshot, and perhaps recite some poetry, the hunting that day having proved very poor. Or maybe do things other than reciting poetry; Yusuf hadn’t been sure how Nicolò felt about outdoor trysting but was very curious to find out.
That plan had been summarily ruined when he had seen two Franks emerge from low bushes behind Nicolò, armed and armored. He had opened his mouth to shout, and found an arm around his throat.
Yusuf kicked backward – the man wasn’t wearing greaves, as he found out when he didn’t break his heel – and threw himself forward. His assailant was pulled off his feet, and in the short ensuing scuffle Yusuf was able to roll away. What he had not counted on was that they were very close to a point where the land rolled upwards along the river, leaving an increasingly steep bluff. Yusuf went over it.
He was saved the ignominy of drowning himself in the river, as he probably would have done if he’d hit his head, by landing in a bush growing out from the bluff. Some distant yelling drifted down to him; he couldn’t make out the words. This was proving to be a very annoying day.
Yusuf made his way painfully back up the bluff over the next little while. A childhood spent climbing around the palace had given him the patience to attempt it, and rendered the height less terrifying than it might have been – really, Yusuf thought, the danger in falling had been the shallowness of the river in the height of summer, not the fall itself. Although he was going to be feeling it for the next few days at least.
He concentrated on the climb and the fall because he couldn’t afford to start worrying about what was happening to Nicolò. The only way to help him was to reach the top.
He could see some more vegetation growing along the edge of the bluff, and aimed for that. It would cover him as he climbed.
As he got close to the edge, the yelling resolved into words. It was in very colloquial Ligurian, Nicolò’s native dialect, and Yusuf had to concentrate to make out what was being said.
“- rescue me?” Nicolò was saying. He wasn’t yelling; his voice was just very cold, and very clear. It was how Yusuf would expect him to sound if Yusuf ever insulted him unforgivably, or suggested that instead of Noor marrying a Venetian Yusuf should take a second wife, or something of that nature.
“Yes!” said someone else in the same dialect, although he was yelling. “You were a month away from taking your vows, after Father so generously allowed you to enter the monastery, and then we are expected to believe that you decided to throw it over to marry some heathen prince?”
“They’re not heathens here, they’re Muslims,” said Nicolò wearily, “which is different, and I know you know this. I sent a letter, Marco, and surely the rest of Father’s men told him what happened.”
“Duke Keane was murdered that same night! Who knows what else really -”
“Duke Keane tried to murder us.”
“Is that what you were told?”
“That is what happened.”
“You were told this was ceremonial, so they had no cause to be insulted and attack us or our shipping! You were told to refuse -”
“I was told that if I behaved myself and didn’t embarrass Genova I could go back and take my vows,” said Nicolò, “which is not the same thing, and if Father wanted me to refuse then he should have said so in so many words.”
“You’re such a sophist,” said his brother. “I suppose that’s what they teach you in monasteries.”
Yusuf was now in a position to see that there were only the three of them, the two he had seen and the third, who must be the brother. They had Nicolò on his knees and his hands bound, but a broken nose on one and two very good black eyes on the other suggested that had not happened easily. Yusuf would have expected no less.
He contemplated announcing that he had been told in so many words to refuse Nicolò and it was only because his mother was a benevolent and generous woman (and had spent so many years already training him to rule, as she had pointed out since) that he had been allowed to get away with accepting him. Also because Nicolò had turned out to be kind and intelligent and a devil with a sword in his hands, which were all excellent qualities in a consort. He wondered if Nicolò’s brother knew any of that. He seemed to have a very poor and wrong view of him.
Then he decided that Nicolò’s brother seemed bent on getting Nicolò to agree that kidnapping him back to Genova was some sort of favour, which Nicolò was never going to do and would therefore eat up precious time, and headed up the river, along the edge of the bluff. There was really no point in all the guards and servants and things if he insisted on doing everything alone. That lesson of his mother’s had sunk in.
SEQUEL FILL: Joe/Nicky, The Prince Is Getting Married, Royalty AU [3/4]
(Anonymous) 2020-09-23 04:43 am (UTC)(link)“Good afternoon,” Yusuf said, in Ligurian. Nicolò was still on his knees, and his brother was still yelling, so that had gone as expected, although he had gone blessedly and gratifyingly silent when the hunting party had thundered up. “I will have my husband back now, thank you.”
“He’s not asking,” Nicolò said, a smile beginning to play at the corner of his mouth.
“I should have brought a crossbow,” said Noor, taking in the situation.
“Noor!” Yusuf said, quellingly. She was unquelled.
“They don’t speak Arabic,” Nicolò said, in the same language.
“Stop that!” said his brother, in Ligurian. “Tell them to speak in something understandable.”
“We all understand each other perfectly well,” Yusuf said, matching him. “And he’s right; I wasn’t asking.”
Marco di Genova, or so Yusuf presumed he must be called, had a strong look of Nicolò about him, but with darker hair and a much less interesting nose and what appeared to be a permanently annoyed expression. Or perhaps that was just the effect of being sent to rescue his brother and finding him uninterested in being rescued. His lips pressed together as if holding in another insult, but he gestured grudgingly to his men, and they stood back. He could see he was badly outnumbered. Nicolò got to his feet and joined Yusuf’s party.
Yusuf dismounted and cut the rope from his hands. He wanted to hold Nicolò and check that he was uninjured beyond the one or two scrapes Yusuf could see, and the marks from the rope; this wasn’t the time or the place. He settled for squeezing Nicolò’s hands as he pulled the rope away. A guard brought forward Nicolò’s horse, and they both remounted themselves. Some conversations were much better had from saddleback, if you could.
“Are you all right?” Noor asked Nicolò, not quite quietly; he shook his head. “Fine, fine. They did not come here to harm me. As surprising as that may seem.”
“I thought they kept all the women here under lock and key,” muttered one of Marco’s guards in Ligurian, not quietly.
“My mother is the queen of Tunis,” Yusuf said in Ligurian. “And she is going to pass judgement on you, so I would keep your thoughts about the women of our lands to yourself if I were you.” It was fortunate that most of the other people here didn’t speak Nicolò’s language; that wasn’t universal, though, and some dark looks were being exchanged by those who had got the gist of the remarks.
“You can’t blame me for coming to rescue my brother,” protested Marco. Yusuf’s estimation of his intelligence was dropping rapidly.
“Rescue me from what?” Nicolò said, with some real exasperation. “You have yet to explain!”
“From foreign…” Marco trailed off. “Foreigners.” He narrowed his eyes at his younger brother, perched confidently above him, and said “Unless you enjoy lying back and getting fucked every night that much.”
The only reason that didn’t cause an immediate outcry was that he used several slang terms which even those who understood Ligurian, or enough of the trading tongue to follow the discussion, would not know; Yusuf only took his meaning because Nicolò had been teaching him some of those terms, as they tended to come up when Nicolò was distracted, in bedroom circumstances. Marco was also apparently not quite as stupid as he was acting, because he said the words, but in a light tone and with a calm face.
“I don’t have any complaints,” Nicolò said cooly, evidently choosing to ignore the fact that it was a highly incorrect characterization of their marriage to date. “Yusuf, is there any more need to speak with them before we return to the city?”
“I don’t believe so,” said Yusuf, and gave instructions for the Genovese to be tied up and walked behind the rest of the party.
“See,” Nicolò said to Noor, “this is why you should marry a Venetian. The highest-ranked men in Genova are all my brothers, and they’re all like this.”
“Incredibly bone-headed?”
“Among other things.”
“My brother’s incredibly bone-headed, and you like being married to him.”
“He has some redeeming qualities,” said Nicolò, with an amused sidewards glance to Yusuf.
“What about a Pisan?” suggested Yusuf, who had learned a little of the local politics in Nicolò’s homeland by now, and felt Nicolò deserved that suggestion.
“Absolutely not,” said Nicolò at once, with a look of disgust; Noor and Yusuf laughed.
*
Yusuf’s mother was receiving petitioners that day and did not care to put aside the concerns of her own citizens for her son-in-law’s family being troublesome – the wazir conveyed this, but the sentiment was purely his mother’s – so they were left to cool their heels in the dungeons, while Yusuf and Nicolò spoke to Yusuf’s father. Noor had been persuaded to leave with the promises that she could sit in on the judgement that evening, and also that she was allowed to tell Yasmin and Laila and Amina (her and Yusuf’s other sisters) all about what had happened.
“If we send them back to Genova, what will happen?” Yusuf’s father asked.
“I’m not sure,” Nicolò admitted. “I wasn’t expecting them to come in the first place. My father made it clear he was well-rid of me to the monastery. I doubt he wants me back for my own sake.”
“We can’t just keep killing Frankish princes,” grumbled Yusuf’s father. “Someone will start to take it amiss.”
“We’re not Franks,” said Nicolò. “And…please understand…I think my father meant it well. If anything Marco said is true.”
“Please explain,” said Yusuf, “how kidnapping you could be meant well.”
“We would have you kidnapped if you rode off to Paris or some barbarian city like that and sent back word that you’d got married and weren’t returning,” said Yusuf’s father, to Yusuf. “Of course this is not at all the same thing, but…”
“He came here to propose to me! It wasn’t an impossibility!”
“He didn’t think he was going to be kidnapping me,” said Nicolò, with a sigh. “He thought I had been…pressured or unable to refuse or not understood what was happening until it was too late – you must understand, most of the men who came with me understand your tongue poorly if at all, and they certainly couldn’t hear what we said to each other, Yusuf.”
“I could hear it and I wasn’t sure you understood what was happening,” said Yusuf’s father, “but there is no question you did by the time you signed the wedding contract, so never mind that. I thought you…did not care for your father.”
“He tries to do the right thing,” Nicolò said, very carefully. “It is…the thing he taught me I treasure most. But it turns out that he and I do not agree on what the right thing is. Anyway, when that became clear, he let me go to the monastery, which he – he did not have to do. He only sent me here because all my brothers and sisters were married or betrothed already. He did not want to offend you.”
“This has been fairly offensive,” said Yusuf’s father.
“Yes,” said Yusuf. “Which, if I understand Nicolò right, is why he thinks his father must have done it out of concern for him.”
Yusuf’s father sighed very deeply. “What do you want done with them, then? My wife may have her own opinions, you understand, but he is your brother, so...”
“Send them home,” said Nicolò. “Make them pay some recompense, that will be understood, and then hopefully we can let it become a misunderstanding, now resolved.”
“God willing,” said Yusuf and his father, at the same time.
SEQUEL FILL: Joe/Nicky, The Prince Is Getting Married, Royalty AU [4/4]
(Anonymous) 2020-09-23 04:46 am (UTC)(link)“…and understand,” Yusuf finished, “that if another injury such as this is attempted against our family, it will be answered much more harshly.”
“Tell Father,” Nicolò added, entirely out of turn, “that if he sends you or anybody else to drag me back to Genova I will send him back their heads.” He paused. “I know that is the sort of message he understands.”
Marco blanched. Yusuf’s mother said, in Arabic, “I think we have some very fine boxes in just the right size.” That set off a round of whispering among the rest of the hall.
“Really?” Yusuf said to Nicolò out of the corner of his mouth, aware that they stood before the court but also aware that Noor was probably taking notes, and all things considered, Yusuf would prefer she wasn’t persuaded of the moral acceptability of fratricide.
“Your husband is softer than you,” said Marco to Nicolò, the first thing he had said all evening. “He didn’t like that.”
“I am thinking of the poor couriers we would have to send to Genova,” Yusuf said, blandly. “Imagine the smell by the time they got there.”
“You are happy here,” Marco said, still to Nicolò. His tone had shifted; he sounded genuinely bewildered. “Aren’t you?”
“Yes, brother,” said Nicolò. “As I have told you fifteen times today already.”
For some reason, that was when all the defiance leaked out of Marco. “All right; all right.”
“Safe travels, brother,” said Nicolò, and he and his men were led away.
*
“You might never see them again,” Yusuf said to Nicolò that evening. “Your family.”
“I had already made that choice,” he said. “Well, to not see them often, if at all. And my sisters are all married away from Genova anyway. And – it is not a burden like that, my heart.”
That was the first time he’d used an endearment towards Yusuf; Yusuf could not help the way he smiled at it, and did not care to help it, anyway. “What about your mother? You’ve never mentioned her.”
“She isn’t like your mother,” said Nicolò. “She chooses not to hear things that are distasteful to her. Sometimes I wonder she hears anything my father says at all.” He shrugged. “But, who knows? Maybe one day.”
“I’m glad you like it here,” said Yusuf. “It would be very uncomfortable if you did not.”
“I would have rescued myself, if I did not,” said Nicolò with complete equanimity, which was why he and Yusuf’s mother got on so well.
“Well,” said Yusuf. “We‘ll just have to find a Venetian who likes it here for Noor, too. I’m sure you can help with that.”
“Oh, your mother is still bent on that?”
“She says now we certainly need a better naval alliance,” said Yusuf.
“I will help if I can,” Nicolò said, and smiled at Yusuf, and really, Yusuf thought: what better choice could he have possibly made, that night?
“I know you will, beloved,” he said, and Nicolò smiled as bright as moonlight on the waters of the bay.
________
okay NOW we’re done
Re: SEQUEL FILL: Joe/Nicky, The Prince Is Getting Married, Royalty AU [4/4]
(Anonymous) 2020-09-23 04:09 pm (UTC)(link)Yusuf's in big trouble, what with his husband and his mother getting along so well. Although getting railed by Nicolò on the regular makes any little difficulties more than worthwhile, I'm sure.
Pretty please will you put this up on the AO3 so I can bookmark it and point all my friends to it (easily) and download an attractive PDF?
Re: SEQUEL FILL: Joe/Nicky, The Prince Is Getting Married, Royalty AU [4/4]
(Anonymous) 2020-09-23 07:23 pm (UTC)(link)Re: SEQUEL FILL: Joe/Nicky, The Prince Is Getting Married, Royalty AU [4/4]
(Anonymous) 2020-09-23 04:12 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: Joe/Nicky, The Prince Is Getting Married, Royalty AU [5/5]
(Anonymous) 2020-09-22 10:21 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: Joe/Nicky, The Prince Is Getting Married, Royalty AU [5/5]
(Anonymous) 2020-09-23 02:16 am (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: Joe/Nicky, The Prince Is Getting Married, Royalty AU [3/5]
(Anonymous) 2020-09-23 04:47 pm (UTC)(link)Why is THIS particular line so gd CUTE to me!! Joe's like 'oh good, this dude isn't hopeless after all', and then of course the kiss itself is so romantic, asjflasjf!