So I've been suffering from a mixture of writer's block and real life drama x.x I started anew series, please tell what you think :)
Gabriel forced himself to stare at the bear pelts decorating the bed beneath him, compelling himself to drift away from the over-sized king behind him, drunkenly attempting to mount him. Gabriel strained to focus on the various shades of the bear fur, as the man behind him finally found his opening and wasted no time forcing his way in.
The man in question was Ansell Kentesius II, King of Morpsis. Gabriel was given to him when he was a child to serve as a steward, when his father fell behind on debts to the crown, and taken by the king as a bed-mate soon after. Gabriel clenched his teeth at the memory of how he came to be there, whoring for the King. The memory was an immensely painful one, but less painful than kneeling on all fours, allowing the bear of the man behind him do what he was doing.
Gabriel closed his eyes, and allowed himself to sink into his agonizing past. Gabriel’s father worked in the treasury position, managing the crown’s expenses. The man had had a horrible gambling addiction, every bit of gold he acquired through an honest day’s work for the King, went into the hands of some punk from the pub at the end of a drunken game of Spools.
Gabriel recalled his mother and father coming to blows one evening when his father had gone out to get pork and salt, and had returned home empty handed and drunk. His father had begun to scrape off the top of the crown’s purse, covering his tracks, hoping no one would be the wiser. That illusion was shattered, however, when his employer noticed an alarming decrease in the crown’s purse, stretching over a long span of time. The treasurer had conducted a thorough search into each and every expense, and was able to round up the unaccounted disappearances in money. Gabriel’s father was questioned meticulously, and he crumbled. He confessed to his crime, and Gabriel and his mother were forced to watch their breadwinner stand in open court, before the King and Queen, and confess to his crimes.
Throughout the entire trial, Gabriel had noticed the King’s attention grew less and less focused on his father, and more on himself. Gabriel was accustomed to being stared at, the people in his village had always marveled at how feminine he was. Gabriel was the smallest of the boys his age, barely cracking 5 feet and 6 inches. He had his mother’s features, a heart shaped face, pouty lips, large, round eyes that were framed on top by two rows of golden lashes. Golden brown curls danced around his head at the slightest push from the wind, his milky skin was hairless, and try as he might Gabriel was never able to grow an acceptable beard like his father. The children in the village called ‘Gabriella’ due to his womanlike appearance. The only thing Gabriel believed he’d acquired from his father was his voice. For one as small as he, Gabriel’s voice was astoundingly deep.
Gabriel had never been before his monarchs in his life before his father’s trial, the experience was terrifying and exciting all at once. The King and Queen sat in an alcove on a raised dais, directly beneath the sunlight pouring in from the stained glass window above them. King Ansell was a small mountain in clothes. He sat at an angle, his broad shoulders crooked, one leg bent beneath a massive hand, the other stretched; foot tapping to an unknown rhythm.
Black hair poured from beneath the silver band circling his head in waves, a small wiry beard mingled with it on his chest. Sapphire blue eyes sat high in his face, framed by long lashes. Gabriel had been taken aback by the man’s eyes. Such an enormous man, scarred and gruff, to have such breathtaking eyes.
The Queen was almost as tall as her husband. She sat, ramrod straight on her bejeweled throne, ankles crossed, hands clasped in her lap, eyes straight ahead. Queen Dionysus was not meant to marry King Ansell. She was old enough to be a grandmother, married to a man half her age. Her auburn hair had long run to gray, was braided in an intricate braid around and behind her head, her silver crown more elegant and jewel encrusted then the simple silver band that circled her husband’s head, her delicate face lined with age. Gabriel was marveled at the two of them.
His father stood, shaking before the two of them, as the head treasurer read the details of his crime. The Queen sat like a statue, eyes fixed on Gabriel’s father, when the boy’s eyes dared to wander to the King; he was horrified to see the man’s gaze on him. In spite of himself, Gabriel retained his eye contact. The look wasn’t unfriendly, Gabriel deciphered. It was almost…predatory. Gabriel’s mother had seen her son looking at the King, and had pointedly stepped on his foot, releasing him from the monarch’s gaze.
The trial lasted for three months. Every time Gabriel was bid to go and support his father, he could feel the King’s eyes burning holes into his flesh. The King and Queen had declared, after three months, that they had heard enough, and would decide his father’s fate the next day. Gabriel was on his way to collect the family horse from the stables, his father to the pub, when he heard a voice calling to him. He turned and to his astonishment, found himself looking into the eyes of none other than the King himself, leaning against the wall of the stables housing Gabriel’s father’s horse.
The King smiled warmly at him, and slowly approached him. “Hello, little one.” His voice was deep, resonating from within his massive chest, making Gabriel shiver. The boy remembered himself, and bowed low, staring at the man’s enormous boots as he spoke timidly. “G-good day, Your Grace.” The king chuckled was waved his hand for Gabriel to look up. “A fine horse you have here,” he said kindly, walking around to see her better. He raised a hand to pat the horse’s head and looked questioningly at Gabriel. “May I?” Words failed the boy, who silently gestured. The king chuckled and stroked the horse’s head. “My wife and I have been debating most heavily on your father’s case. I cannot remember when we have last argued so heavily.” He looked sidelong at the boy. “She desires his death. Dionysus has no tolerance for thievery.” Gabriel shivered and wrung his small hands. He had feared as much.
“What… What d-do you think his punishment should be… You Grace?” He added quickly, speaking to his feet. The king sighed and stood back, folding his arms. “I agree… to an extent. But I could never happily remove a father from a household. Least of all, one with a son.” He walked back over to Gabriel and stood in front of him. “What is your name, my boy?” Gabriel slowly looked into the king’s eyes, again surprised at how exquisite they were. “G-G-Gabriel… Your Grace.”
The king smiled then, his handsome face almost other worldly. “Gabriel.” He said his name as if weighing it. “You are quite lovely, Gabriel. Such a beautiful face… Pretty as a woman’s face. I imagine you are the envy of them in your village.”
He leaned forward, his forehead touching Gabriel’s, who felt as if his heart was going to explode from beating so fast. The king raised a hand to touch Gabriel’s hair; wrapping a finger around a curl and watching it spring back into place. What the King did next was something Gabriel would never forget for the rest of his life.
He pressed his lips against the boy’s, and slid a large hand into his hair. Gabriel was in whirlwind of emotions, it wasn't the first time some man had attempted to do something like that to him, but this wasn't some man, he was King… The King. And the King always gets what he wants… The kiss was Gabriel’s first, and he instantly felt dizzy. King Ansell seemed to take his silence for consent, or he simply didn't care, he slid his other hand to circle the boy’s waist, while sliding his tongue into the boy’s mouth. The king pulled Gabriel flush against his body, and moved away from his mouth to leave open mouthed kisses against the boy’s neck.
Gabriel realized that in the midst of it all, he had been forgetting to breathe, and panted heavily, seizing the king’s arms for support, since he couldn’t reach his shoulders. The king chuckled and knelt in front of Gabriel. “Have you ever kissed a man before, Gabriel?” Words failed the boy, who simply shook his head, sending his hair flying into the king’s face. King Ansell smirked and wrapped both of his enormous arms around the boy’s tiny waist.
“I suppose that’s good. Innocence leaves a delightful taste.” ‘Taste?” Gabriel thought to himself. ‘What on earth was he talking about?’ Gabriel stayed silent, as the King rested his head on the boy’s small shoulder, apparently at peace. How long they remained that way, the boy had no idea. All he could understand then was he now understood the King’s scrutiny.
Gabriel was thrown from the memory that had changed the course of his life when King Ansell’s growls grew closer and closer together, his sign that he was about to climax. Gabriel clenched the bear pelt and recited the Order of Prayer to the Deities, attempting to ignore the flood of hot, sticky seed flowing down his channel. King Ansell leaned forward and stroked a calloused finger down Gabriel’s cheek, turning his head. “Did you…?” Gabriel knew through years of habit, that the King was asking if the boy had climaxed with him. He pasted a smile on his face and nodded.
King Ansell’s smile broadened, lighting the man’s entire face. He laid soft kisses down the side of the boy’s cheek, whispering sweet nothings into his flesh. Gabriel lowered his head, willing his face to a lusty expression. The King was besotted with him, had been since their kiss in the stables, seven years ago.
King Ansell constantly showered the boy with gifts of fur cloaks, fine horses, silk sleeping gowns, for the bedroom, and much more. Most of which Gabriel had to turn away, for fear of the Queen’s quiet wrath. The King took Gabriel to bed almost every night, drunk but loving, astoundingly attentive to the boy’s every want or need. He was uncomfortably aware of the King’s infatuation, and was tasked with the troubling challenge of accepting enough of his gifts to make him happy, and rejecting enough to appease his wife, the Queen.
The king climbed from the bed and padded to the jug of cool water in the windowsill. He carefully filled two goblets with the cold liquid and made his way back to his bedmate.