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magistralucis · 4 months

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"For you, always." - Djoseras/Zultanekh (Necrontyr AU; R-15)

(Drabble for a prompt fill challenge, prompts available here.)

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They unfastened their heavy outer robes and piled them up on a chair. Zultanekh was the first to retreat to bed, laying back with ease as he loosed his tunic and hitched it far up above his knees. "Now there's a memory from the earliest days of my training." He mused, and bid the kynazh regard an old scar upon his thigh. "Back then Zultanekh was not skilled with his hammer, nor with much else. A curious child but not an attentive one, or so his tutors might've described him, were they still alive. Glory upon their souls! They had a handful in Zultanekh."

Djoseras leaned down to examine. "May I ask what happened?"

"What was it, Djoseras? An accident with a khopesh. You see, my tutor at the time fought with a heavier and more ornate sword. This was on account of his being grown up, while I was but a stripling, but in my youthful folly I took this as a challenge."

The kynazh silently gestured in a bid to touch, and Zultanekh allowed it. His strong limbs and the light of the chamber gleamed a warm gold alike, and the scar stood out starkly upon his skin, long and pale and not half as faded as the years suggested. "The instant he was out of sight I picked up his sword, and would give it my all for a splendid swing; suffice to say this one did not have the best understanding of centrifugal forces at the time. The weight of it planted me straight onto the ground and upon the blade, and that, fair kynazh, is the story of how Zultanekh earned his warhammer. No one trusted me with anything else after that."

In the lamplight he saw how Djoseras smiled like the crescent moon. "I imagine Anathrosis was not best pleased."

"Oh, Anathrosis was furious. Rest assured that Zultanekh has more of his phaeron's faith nowadays. The hammer is our traditional weapon; I've been served well by it ever since, and have made up for my boyish indiscretions."

Djoseras nodded. "That is well, then."

That was all the kynazh had to say on the matter. He moved his hand away and made as if to back off. But the Crown Prince had other ideas. "What! No comfort from Djoseras?" He exclaimed; Djoseras raised his head, baffled, and Zultanekh gestured down at his scar pointedly. "Zultanekh's tale, his sincere honesty - in the bedchamber, of all places! All for nothing? I'll have you know it was a very painful wound."

The heir of Ithakas stared at him blankly. "Did you… want to be comforted?"

"What the - why - why would I not? Come, think about it for a moment."

Zultanekh's cheeks were flushed almost as red as his beard, and the inside of his head felt as if he were thinking through mud as he tried to explain what about Djoseras's reaction he found so inane. "Does Zultanekh's pain mean that little to you? He will request no pity, for he can hardly ask you to praise his wisdom where he showed none. But we all made mistakes when we were young, it's a universal constant - I'm sure young Oltyx has made some, if you have not, and I would hope you commiserated. Might we not commiserate? When we're already together, alone… intimate?"

His voice dropped softly at the final word. Surely, Zultanekh thought as he drew Djoseras into his arms, this is enough of a hint; he'd willingly bared his thigh, allowed another to touch him there, by royal standards of intimacy he was as good as naked. It was Djoseras who'd come to him that night, god forbid, surely it wasn't that much of a stretch to expect his affection. But Djoseras was not so easily moved. His smile was wry, his tone, maddeningly objective.

"Prince Zultanekh, your wound is long healed, and even as you spoke of it I saw your spirits were high. It seemed only logical to assume you were recovered. After all, it was a long time ago." His slender fingers played over the scar then, tracing it from top to bottom. Zultanekh tensed, first from shock, then a rapidly stiffening desire. "You are older than either Oltyx or I, but you were just a boy then, too. I might not even have been old enough to walk the year you were injured. And now we're all adults, why, you are almost twice the age of betrothal - too grown up, certainly, to jest for my mercy."

"And who kept Zultanekh waiting for that long, might he ask?" The Crown Prince demanded, green eyes darkened with longing. He was no stranger to playing at nonchalance, but he could never seem to temper himself around Djoseras, blast it all; it drove Zultanekh wild merely to sit with the kynazh, beholding that elegant form before him, those hair and eyes as dark as midnight. "Has he not been waiting for you, always? Ever since we first clashed at Heqahn, and vowed to meet again and again 'til vanquishment, had we not then sworn an oath to the other? Oh, you… you-"

He swept Djoseras into a fierce kiss. Then another, and another, scarce giving either of them room to breathe. For the first time that night he had Djoseras moved; a quiet noise escaped the kynazh as their lips drew apart, more breath than moan from a glistening mouth, and Zultanekh groaned in response. His hand found the dip of Djoseras's slender waist, pressed him right up close, the swirl of his inner robes cool against Zultanekh's skin.

For as long as he had known Djoseras he'd never seen the kynazh dressed in ornate colours. Mostly in whites and blacks, woven through occasionally with silver or gold or godsteel. His robes were always finely embroidered, but the shades were never mixed, as elegant and uncompromising as the rest of Djoseras combined. Zultanekh felt as if he might die of thirst as he imagined what lay under those robes, whether the kynazh was soft or angular, how good he might look stretched out in rapture upon those wine-dark sheets.

"Cruel, sweet prince, Zultanekh's beloved! Yours must be the coldest heart in Ithakas. I hope you don't think this one is so ungenerous: had you regaled me with a tale of your injury, no matter how minor or juvenile, I'd have spoken to you as many soothing words as you deserved." To think such a fair prince had come all this way, just to see Zultanekh - and to think that after all that effort this pillar of piousness, this familial, faithful creature was too rational to flirt, inflamed the Crown Prince like nothing else. "Warmed you with wine, or with mine own self, whatever would console you best. And here you are, asking: does Zultanekh want to be comforted? Oh, Djoseras! What are you like!"

At that Djoseras finally burst into laughter. It was rare for the heir of Ithakas to laugh out loud for any reason, but here he was amused, and thankfully sincere. "I hadn't realized you felt so strongly about it." He remarked, then shifted about to settle politely upon Zultanekh's lap. His arms were cool and bare about the Crown Prince's neck. "Be warned, Zultanekh, that I am unattuned to such softness. Unnas always considered it a weakness from his scions, and we of Ithakas are seldom indulged, even while we are young. Yet I am charmed by your attachment - truthfully, it is what I like most about you, that you are unafraid to feel. I've only ever known my brother to be like that."

He offered his hand. Zultanekh kissed it, gladly. "I will esteem to be more mindful in the future. I may be awkward for a time - but for you, Crown Prince, I will try my best."

"Thank you. It is good of you to indulge Zultanekh; he was a rather sensitive child."

Djoseras's eyes gleamed with mischief. "Oh, I've never doubted you were childish. I merely hope to make an obedient boy out of you sometime."

"Now that's more like it," breathed Zultanekh. He laid upon Djoseras a kiss so deep that the kynazh of Ithakas fell to sighing, his eyes faint with pleasure; Zultanekh moved to the side, laying Djoseras down properly onto the bed, then made to remove his own tunic altogether. "That is well, kynazh, but Zultanekh warrants he has far more to teach you about pleasure. Come, lend him a hand - take yours off too, if you please - and we shall review where else fair Djoseras has wounded him, so that he might be granted his comforts, and return it to you a thousandfold."

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(Note: This was an anon request and came without fandom or pairings attached, so I've taken the liberty to be self-indulgent 😘 I'm intending this to be part of a longer (NSFW) piece, of an AU where biotransference isn't a concern and Djoseras and Zultanekh had a lot more time to enjoy the peace between their dynasties. Indulge an official courtship, fall in love. Kind of like the necrontyr parts of we live on archipelagos concentrated to triple strength. Here Djoseras has surprised Zultanekh by slipping into the other's room at night - as one would expect of a courtly love scene - and then immediately dropped the ball by being too logical about flirtations. 🤣 Oh, they have a long way to go...)

#warhammer 40k #wh40k #the twice dead king #djoseras #zultanekh #prompt fill #drabble #necrons #necron #ah... how could i possibly leave out my chosen necron rarepair otp... those princes drive me insane they're everything i want #it's so fun writing zultanekh. he is so life-affirmative and just about any situation works with him as long as it warrants his confidence #he can be utterly serious and mentor-like; he can be boldly flirtatious; whatever it may be he'll be Forever In The Moment doing it #this is the one dude who'll always find a way to have a good time... i love him #returning to orizyn for the next wh40k drabble

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