My King

The roar of the crowd echoed in my ears as I looked about the stadium, proudly sheathing my sword. The man I was sparring laid incapacitated on the floor of the arena a bit to my left. I couldn't help but smile when my eyes fell on Micah. He stood clapping his hands and beaming. His long golden hair falling behind him, nearly sweeping the floor. He wore robes of a deep green today, for the season I guessed.
I stepped forward, bowing low.
He smiled down at me.
"My dear Aristotle, Lead Knight and head of the King's Guards, to no one's great surprise, you have won the battle tournament yet again. Congratulations, you will be keeping your title."
I bowed low again
"Thank you my lord"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That was over a year ago, before the war, before all the bloodshed.
The dark elves revolted. We may have won that battle, but now the war still rages on. The dark elves and an eclectic group of other peoples gathered together under the allegiance of a boy who called himself the Stone Goblin. Our forces gathered and attacked their headquarters, we did not expect the power of his dark forces. In the fray, our king, Micah, was captured.
He was with them for some times before his nephew had managed to rescue him. Since then he has not been well, I fear for his life and mental well-being. I can only hope that my company will suit as an escape from his hardships.


-Months later-

"Come Aristotle, I wish to speak with you about something important."

My body obeyed the order before my mind had registered it. I had followed his orders to meet in him in his private chambers and to remove my armor, and now I sat next to him, feeling quite naked and vulnerable.
I was far from it of course, in my tight black top and loose slacks. My Lord on the other hand, was wearing nothing but a thin blue robe hanging off of his left shoulder, and getting dangerously close to leaving him nude.
I stared into those bright blue eyes as he spoke to me, of his pain, his nightmares, his memories, of all the things that had been bothering him over these past few months. His hair had grown back now I noticed. It was long, beautiful and shined like gold. His scars had healed but his emotional wounds were still open.
I could see that now, his eyes were softer...sadder...filled with hurt and fear.
His thin small hands trembled as they grasped the sleeves of my shirt.

I felt his soft full lips brush mine.
He flushed and looked up into my dark hazel eyes.
"Aristotle, I know this may seem awkward, but....I need you...I need this."
His lips were on mine again and my arms around his waist.
He pulled away lying back on the large bed. He let his robe fall open, showing his magnificent body. I let my hand wander across his skin,down his chest, and stopped at the curve of hips.
'This is wrong' I thought to myself
'He is my King... I have no right to defile him like this.'

"Why do you stop?"
His voice startled me out of my thoughts
"Are you sure you wish to do this my King?"
"Yes I am quite sure, and I wish for you to call me by my name Aristotle"
I swallowed and nodded
"Now, kiss me..."

I followed his command thoughtlessly once again, lying on top of him and pulling him into my arms. We kissed deeply, I could feel his arms around my shoulders, his finger tangled in my hair. His tongue flicked at my lips, demanding passage, and again without thought, I obeyed. My body now sweaty and overcome with passion, lost all reason.

One hand stroked the curve of his ear, another I pushed below us, wrapping my hand around his shaft.
I pulled away, now kissing his neck, nipping at his collar bone, all the while being rewarded with soft gasps and whimpers of pleasure.

I kissed down his chest, taking time to dwindle over his scars, licking tantalizingly at his navel, and soon found myself kissing his soft thighs.
He tugged gently at my hair
"Aristotle!" He gasped
I looked up from my work.
"Please, I can not take any more torment"

I sat up pulling him forward so that his legs wrapped about my waste. I pushed a finger, gently, slowly into him. He squirmed and clenched his eyes shut. He was very tight.
I waited allowing him to adjust before slipping in a second. He let out a small noise of discomfort, but did not tell me to stop. I moved the two in and out, twisting a bit. After awhile his hips began to buck with my skilled fingers. I slipped the third finger in, he gripped at the bed sheets and cried out.
"D-Do you want me to stop?"
"N-No" He choked out "Keep going"

I moved my fingers again, working, stretching, eventually I thought him wide enough.
I pulled off my shirt and pants and tossed them near my pile of armor. I pushed in, slowly again, trying not to hurt him. I saw his eyes fill with tears, he tried not to show it, but I knew it hurt him.
I moved my hips, pushing in and out carefully. My whole body burned with desire, his hips began to buck with mine, we moved in unison. He clutched to me, moaning softly in my ears.

My world began to melt, All there was, was me ...and Micah. All I could see was his eyes filled with lust, all I could hear was him screaming my name, I tasted his lips again, smelled his musk, Felt nothing but him and the bed sheets underneath. We rocked for what felt like hours in to the night.
He threw his head back screaming my name as we both expelled our passions.

I don't know how long I lay there awake holding him, my mind still buzzing from the endorphins, All I knew, was my King was safe, safe in my arms.