Nations- Delineated
Title: Delineated
Fandom: FF7
Set: Nations
Words: 774
Warning: None but the AUness
Note: Zack hath retaken the perspective.
He'd wanted to check in on Sapphire. He'd wanted to ask the lady priestess what went on out there. He wanted to mingle or deal with greetings. He didn't really want to be here.
He'd never not wanted to be here before, but this time was different. This time he had to… well, he had to give his king away to someone who might just never give him back, that's what he had to do. He didn't think she would do that to them.
He didn't think she had been false about becoming their friends, in her way.
He didn't think that things were going to go wrong now that things were nearly finalized.
But he didn't know.
And not knowing was making this entire situation so much more difficult. He was the only one in the room with them, the head of a harem between two rulers from two nations, and he didn't delude himself in thinking that he was anything more. He and the other three may be of much value to their king, but there were times when that simply could not matter.
The night of a wedding bind was really one of them.
Moving forward silently at a gesture, he was careful to not look too closely, to show he saw the mutual tension in the air. They'd all known this was where this would lead, and there was no more or less to be done. Moving deftly around his king, the black haired man took the ceremonial clothes, one layer at a time until all had been removed.
He wanted to stop and look, but he did not, instead turning and bowing his head to his new queen, watching her through his lashes. The silence grew heavier, but she said nothing to either of them, so he stepped forward to carefully start to undo her dress. For all her talk of not wanting slaves, not liking them, she ignored him well enough after the first few moments of sharp attention.
Just like anyone else of noble or royal blood knew how to do.
There was really very little heat between them at all, none that resembled desire, too much that was anger and a battle of wits. It would not help them complete this part of their duties. For all things that he could and would do for his king, in this instance it was something that was not to be done, and he could not really help these two find what needed found.
Pale violet eyes flicking from one to the other, he slipped away with the gown to lay it aside. She was tense, incredibly so, and apparently her nudity was something of an issue for her before the current audience. His king, by contrast, internalized it far better, and was critically studying as he was being studied. The only way it was clear he was uncomfortable was the straighter than normal posture of his back and the way he was keeping his attention utterly focused.
If he'd thought it would ease the tension, he would have gone to crouch by his king in offer of petting, giving a place to send his nerves, but he knew it wouldn't work out, not how it was supposed to at least. So he didn't, even if it would have made him feel better as well. Instead he moved to the bed, fingers lingering over the covers for a moment before he shifted onto the mattress and walked them down, the top left corner in his hands as he padded back towards the bottom right.
"My king." He turned, taking a deep breath as he stepped down, forcing himself to clear the path with a bowed head as he slipped aside. His voice grew quieter. "My queen."
Neither seemed to want to get closer to the other, nor the bed, which was ironic, but after a moment they seemed to work themselves out, his king resting his hand at the base of the new queen's back as he part steered, part pushed her along. She wasn't deliberately digging her heels in, something he heard more than saw, his own hair blocking his line of vision, but she was hesitant.
Perhaps that was a good thing. He closed his eyes as he heard the rustle of cloth, finally. If she was hesitant, then perhaps she would not grow possessive.
It was a hope, and he focused on such thoughts as he lifted his head, then moved to stand at the foot of the bed to bear witness, fingers curled tightly around a bedpost.
Feelings, of course, had no place in politics.
Fandom: FF7
Set: Nations
Words: 774
Warning: None but the AUness
Note: Zack hath retaken the perspective.
He'd wanted to check in on Sapphire. He'd wanted to ask the lady priestess what went on out there. He wanted to mingle or deal with greetings. He didn't really want to be here.
He'd never not wanted to be here before, but this time was different. This time he had to… well, he had to give his king away to someone who might just never give him back, that's what he had to do. He didn't think she would do that to them.
He didn't think she had been false about becoming their friends, in her way.
He didn't think that things were going to go wrong now that things were nearly finalized.
But he didn't know.
And not knowing was making this entire situation so much more difficult. He was the only one in the room with them, the head of a harem between two rulers from two nations, and he didn't delude himself in thinking that he was anything more. He and the other three may be of much value to their king, but there were times when that simply could not matter.
The night of a wedding bind was really one of them.
Moving forward silently at a gesture, he was careful to not look too closely, to show he saw the mutual tension in the air. They'd all known this was where this would lead, and there was no more or less to be done. Moving deftly around his king, the black haired man took the ceremonial clothes, one layer at a time until all had been removed.
He wanted to stop and look, but he did not, instead turning and bowing his head to his new queen, watching her through his lashes. The silence grew heavier, but she said nothing to either of them, so he stepped forward to carefully start to undo her dress. For all her talk of not wanting slaves, not liking them, she ignored him well enough after the first few moments of sharp attention.
Just like anyone else of noble or royal blood knew how to do.
There was really very little heat between them at all, none that resembled desire, too much that was anger and a battle of wits. It would not help them complete this part of their duties. For all things that he could and would do for his king, in this instance it was something that was not to be done, and he could not really help these two find what needed found.
Pale violet eyes flicking from one to the other, he slipped away with the gown to lay it aside. She was tense, incredibly so, and apparently her nudity was something of an issue for her before the current audience. His king, by contrast, internalized it far better, and was critically studying as he was being studied. The only way it was clear he was uncomfortable was the straighter than normal posture of his back and the way he was keeping his attention utterly focused.
If he'd thought it would ease the tension, he would have gone to crouch by his king in offer of petting, giving a place to send his nerves, but he knew it wouldn't work out, not how it was supposed to at least. So he didn't, even if it would have made him feel better as well. Instead he moved to the bed, fingers lingering over the covers for a moment before he shifted onto the mattress and walked them down, the top left corner in his hands as he padded back towards the bottom right.
"My king." He turned, taking a deep breath as he stepped down, forcing himself to clear the path with a bowed head as he slipped aside. His voice grew quieter. "My queen."
Neither seemed to want to get closer to the other, nor the bed, which was ironic, but after a moment they seemed to work themselves out, his king resting his hand at the base of the new queen's back as he part steered, part pushed her along. She wasn't deliberately digging her heels in, something he heard more than saw, his own hair blocking his line of vision, but she was hesitant.
Perhaps that was a good thing. He closed his eyes as he heard the rustle of cloth, finally. If she was hesitant, then perhaps she would not grow possessive.
It was a hope, and he focused on such thoughts as he lifted his head, then moved to stand at the foot of the bed to bear witness, fingers curled tightly around a bedpost.
Feelings, of course, had no place in politics.