Fic: The King and His Fool Ch. 3/5
Title: The King and His Fool
Chapter 3: The Jester-Queen
Word Count: 358
Pairings: Batman/Joker, brief Joker/Harley D:
Disclaimer: I don't own TDK, DC, or its characters, I just like to worship some while horridly bashing others.
Rating: PG
Warnings: implied sexuality, with some Bat-jealousy :)
Chapter Summary: The new king decides to indulge in the full benefits of the throne. The martyr is less than pleased.
A/N: This chappie spawned from listening to "Cursed by Beauty" from the 300 soundtrack. Hey, I love me some shirtless chiseled abs in battle. xP
The king lies back against the wall in quiet submission. The chains refuse to budge, as does the will of the jester. Nothing seems to sway his adamant mind; he intends to enjoy his victory as long as possible. Including this agonizing torture of leaving him here to dry on the wall, while he just sits there on the throne and smiles to himself. He knows the jester is smiling, for he never stops smiling when someone else suffers.
Then, his smile widens as a third party enters the dark hall. Footsteps clack down the grand entrance as a woman skips head-over-heels into the deserted court towards the new king.
Indeed, a woman. For the jester has taken some liberties during his new reign. He has decided to indulge wholeheartedly into all benefits the throne has to offer. Including his newest toy. His queen. The Jester-Queen.
Blonde, small, pretty, sharp. She wears her red and black royal attire, as thus befits the Queen of Cards. She holds a royal flush in the hand she was dealt when given the throne next to his, and she full well knows it. Little does she know that, in the end, Jokers always trump all.
She leaps giggling into her lord’s lap, nuzzling him and telling him the silliest jokes as she caresses his hair, just as the chained king used to do. He takes her greedily into his arms and laughs madly with her (and at her), letting her roam her petite hands all over him in the most lascivious of manners.
She continues dithering away, cuddled up next to his ear, and he clutches her possessively against him. He turns to peer over her blonde head to meet the glaring, jealous eyes of the captive behind him, knowing smile betraying his purpose. For she means nothing to him, just as any other subject. She only serves as another tool for him. Another tool to use against his king. To taunt, to mock, to accelerate the burning of his soul as he presses false lips to the queen’s head, knowing full well who they have always - and will always - belong to.
Chapter 3: The Jester-Queen
Word Count: 358
Pairings: Batman/Joker, brief Joker/Harley D:
Disclaimer: I don't own TDK, DC, or its characters, I just like to worship some while horridly bashing others.
Rating: PG
Warnings: implied sexuality, with some Bat-jealousy :)
Chapter Summary: The new king decides to indulge in the full benefits of the throne. The martyr is less than pleased.
A/N: This chappie spawned from listening to "Cursed by Beauty" from the 300 soundtrack. Hey, I love me some shirtless chiseled abs in battle. xP
The king lies back against the wall in quiet submission. The chains refuse to budge, as does the will of the jester. Nothing seems to sway his adamant mind; he intends to enjoy his victory as long as possible. Including this agonizing torture of leaving him here to dry on the wall, while he just sits there on the throne and smiles to himself. He knows the jester is smiling, for he never stops smiling when someone else suffers.
Then, his smile widens as a third party enters the dark hall. Footsteps clack down the grand entrance as a woman skips head-over-heels into the deserted court towards the new king.
Indeed, a woman. For the jester has taken some liberties during his new reign. He has decided to indulge wholeheartedly into all benefits the throne has to offer. Including his newest toy. His queen. The Jester-Queen.
Blonde, small, pretty, sharp. She wears her red and black royal attire, as thus befits the Queen of Cards. She holds a royal flush in the hand she was dealt when given the throne next to his, and she full well knows it. Little does she know that, in the end, Jokers always trump all.
She leaps giggling into her lord’s lap, nuzzling him and telling him the silliest jokes as she caresses his hair, just as the chained king used to do. He takes her greedily into his arms and laughs madly with her (and at her), letting her roam her petite hands all over him in the most lascivious of manners.
She continues dithering away, cuddled up next to his ear, and he clutches her possessively against him. He turns to peer over her blonde head to meet the glaring, jealous eyes of the captive behind him, knowing smile betraying his purpose. For she means nothing to him, just as any other subject. She only serves as another tool for him. Another tool to use against his king. To taunt, to mock, to accelerate the burning of his soul as he presses false lips to the queen’s head, knowing full well who they have always - and will always - belong to.