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bonnefoisTitle: Walls (Or: What Happens In Goldoa, Stays In Goldoa)
Series: FE9 precanon
Character/Pairing: Dhengesea/Lehran with mentioned Dhengesea/Meria (his wife, noncanon name) and Lehran/Altina.
Rating: R/NC-17
Word count: 2,145
A/N: kink meme for: Dheginsea and anybody, I don't care who or when or how many times! He has kids, it had to happen some time or other, right? :DBonus points if it's Lehran who puts out.’ also for the earlier request meme where ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
myaru asked for Dhengesea. I KNOW SHE MADE THIS REQUEST ANYWAYS.
I assume both Nasir and Dhengesea were married. They have children, after all and I doubt said children were cleaved from their brow. Their wives are never mentioned in canon, the name choices were simply so I wouldn’t constantly be stuck with the awkward ‘his wife’.
This was supposed to have another scene (with interculal no less.) but unfortunately the Fun New Position To Try had to be cut due to not fitting with the feel of the piece. Oh darn, looks like you guys get more of this pairing.
Lehran resembled his wife, but only slightly. Lehran had been far more frail though, Meria even being the most delicate dragon he had ever encountered still was oafish compared to his heron friend. But Meria was six months in the grave when Lehran came to rest in his halls again. His friend had changed in the years, time had left him unsettled and gaunt. There were hollows in his cheeks, unfamiliar marks across his neck and an overall weariness that settled over him like grey clouds over the mountains before a rainstorm.
The hems of his sleeves were let out to hide the bandages, but Dhengesea knew, knew as much as he sensed the weariness of the world of Lehran.
Dhengesea was not one for comfort. His father had taught him to be the Wall of Goldoa, and walls are not allowed living and breathing sentimental things. A Wall must stand whether its own lifeblood is at stake and in storm or sunlight. To take the throne of Goldoa was to cast aside every feeling for the good of the people. Wasn’t that the dilemma of every ruler of every generation? To feel was to fall, to let down one’s country and countrymen alike.
But still, he offered solace for his friend within the walls. He sent food to Lehran’s door only to have it left untouched in the morning. Lehran wore the mourning veils for the part of himself that had died.
Goldoa stood while his friend fell into an abyss. There were so many things a ruler could lose while self-effacing oneself into nothing but coldness. A friend was only one of them.
*
So it settled into being. Lehran became a half-living being, an amputee, a bird clipped of his wings. He kept to his rooms for months barely eating. At night, keening wails could be heard splitting the night. The Dirge of Mourning, a funeral song to be sang at the pyres of the deceased by the remaining bereaved.
Dhengesea kept his own sorrow locked tight. His mate had gone before him, but Walls were not given time to mourn. He could not take the trip to the sacred river Rhinionan and cast the ashes of the pyre over him. As a leader he couldn’t rend his clothes or spend his nights weeping over her.
The news came later of Altina’s remarriage. It only soured his taste towards the Beorc and their wishy-washy ways all the more. Dhengesea did not wish to relegate the news to another servant, nor did he wish to tell his friend either. Dhengesea did not know how to deal with the tears that would surely come, nor did he have much comfort to spare save for the safety of his country spread around Lehran. But when he came to break the news, Lehran stared out at the window, a silver-plated brush within his fingertips. It had been Meria’s. He gave it to Lehran shortly after his friend came. He thought she would’ve done the same had she still breathed.
“I already know, Dhengesea,” Lehran said. His voice was wispy quiet and his hair fluttered about him in the slight breeze.
He set the brush down upon the bed stand and turned to face Dhengesea. His friend’s eyes had a lifeless quality, as if the spirit had gone out of him. Still, even in this deathly light, Lehran had an unearthly beauty. Herons were widely renowned for their beauty. Many a paean had been sung to them, especially the white-winged royals. He knew many a love tale that had personally been inspired by Lehran and his friend had more than one admirer whose hopes had been dashed upon his marriage to Altina.
Dhengesea felt something within himself, embers of a flame that had gone out with Meria’s passing. Lehran stepped towards him, his hair swishing along with him. When he was immediately before Dhengesea, Lehran leaned up (some doing, considering the size difference) and pressed those luscious lips to Dhengesea’s own.
Lehran was talented. Dhengesea himself had married Meria young to ensure Goldoa remained united, he had little enough experience as it was. Lehran however had many lovers before Altina, both male and female.
Lehran’s lips were demanding. His arms clung tight around Dhengesea’s thick neck and soon Dhengesea found his hands by instinct cupping under Lehran’s slim buttocks and lifting him up for easier access. His friend was always light, but now Lehran was emaciated. It was so unbelievably light and soft that he cringed on his friend’s behalf.
Dhengesea heard a moan, too slight and high to be his own. It was followed by a deeper rumble of a growl – this was his own. He felt Lehran’s tongue pressing against his own lips insistently, asking for entrance and he gave it. They kissed like this for some unknown time, for Dhengesea lost himself for the first time since his wife’s passing. The spark grew to a flame and consumed him with a passion that seemed greater than even when she had been alive.
Lehran broke the kiss abruptly, so much so that Dhengesea almost pulled him close, to bring back that world-lifting bliss of their lips crushing together. Lehran struggled out and Dhengesea had almost thought that he had changed his mind when he dropped silently to the floor and bent to undo Dhengesea’s belt. Dhengesea stood tall as Lehran undid his pants. He stood tall as his friend coated his member with saliva from glans to base in one quick taste and only the faint trembling of his hands showed the extent of his arousal.
Lehran was a man of many talents, talents that Dhengesea had never even thought of. He had never thought of Lehran in these terms, or allowed himself to see what his friend’s soft hair might smell like or feel against his fingers. He had been a married man, and sublimination was as normal as breathing air, as drinking water .
Despite size differences, Lehran took Dhengesea’s member as deep as would allow. He hummed, as if to break out in song and the beat of it, the rhythm assailed and slipped into him. He felt Lehran’s tongue against the sensitive underneath, and Dhengesea felt a tremor through him. The solidness of himself was compromised. Something within him gave and broke. It was like the sound of waves crashing, the blood in his head. Nothing within him had given or relaxed since then, and his shoulders stooped as if a weight had been removed from them. Muscles relaxed, what had almost turned to statue turned back into mere flesh again. When he looked again the skirts of Lehran’s robes were pulled about his hips and he pressed his fingers into himself in a lifeless, mechanical rhythm.
Lehran stepped to the bed, his hands guiding Dhengesea towards its siren song calling.
Lehran fell back to it, into the softness, the grimness of his face almost abating for once. His hair spread out about him, dark, exquisite strands of the deepest black flooding over the deep green covers as if sections of night.
“Hold me,” Lehran said, and his gaze was unceasing, it held his with the same steel met strength of purpose that Lehran had always held sheathed within all that gentleness.
Dhengesea took steps forward as if a man mesmerized. He fell into the bed on the other side, rolled over until Lehran was straddling him and lifting the skirts of his skirted robes. His friend angled himself until it was Lehran’s body opening and giving until that same dense comfort of two bodies, the deepest solace to be known, was given.
Truth be told, this was an entirely new experience. He had never been pleasured orally by his wife, nor had they ever gone this route in lovemaking. This way was tighter, the muscles firmly clenched about him was enough to make even a dragon king lose his composure. He rocked and thrust and barely heard his friend’s moans over his own.
It had been too long, much too long since he’d felt arms about his, since he felt legs wrapped tight and easing him in more, more more. Too long since he had gone from his stone godhood to bend and love another person again.
*
Lehran took sick to his bedroom for two days after their rendezvous. While Lehran had slept curled into a fetal position beside him until morning, with daybreak brought a ceasing to the passion between them. Lehran was guarded, and there was no trace of the lissom seducer he had known the night before.
So it went. The walls went back up and Dhengesea returned to his endless watch over his country.
“Forget this ever happened,” Lehran said.
And he did, or claimed to as the thought of a pliant body against him, and warmth and dark wings coursed through him. It left him no peace within day or night.
*
Lehran began to come out from his imposed exile. He showed up about the dragon court and was well greeted by those who would beg for his fabled songs. Lehran could only refuse, his face pained, as if someone had accidentally touched a healing wound.
Dhengesea kept his distance. The walls had been erected. It was a shame to cause a friendship that had lasted almost as long as both had been alive to unravel, but things like this happened. Dhengesea assumed it would return to normal eventually, it was only now that they both remembered the feel of each other’s bodies and what the drive of the need for comfort had brought them to.
They danced with the smallest amount of polite talk often broken by meetings or servants or people wishing to talk to Lehran, the legendary companion of the Goddess. This happened for days, weeks, and would be months had not Dhengesea spied on a scene that felled those invisible barriers.
Once when he heard his youngest son mewling, with his wet-nurse away with a sickness, Dhengesea left his post as he heard the cries diminish. He peered in to see a familiar robed finger seated at the side of his son. Lehran bent over the crib. He sang a soft Heron’s lullaby and Kurthnaga gurgled at the notes that seemed the float and hang above him.
Dhengesea had meant to slip away unnoticed, but Lehran looked up unexpectedly. Even without with deeper Heron senses, he was still a Laguz at heart. They shared a secret smile, a bonding and mending of the unraveled strands between them.
“He likes you,” Dhengesea said
“He’s a good baby,” Lehran said.
“He’ll follow after his mother, I think. He’s got the same kind of gentleness in his blood.”
Lehran halfsmiled and returned to his singing, the first since the loss of his inner bird. He sang a song of blessing and kindness and Dhengesea could only thing that with this, such gentleness and fragility could only rub off on his son even more.
Years later, he would find this thought turned true.
*
After that scene, Lehran often visited Kurthnaga’s crib, and day by day the broken parts with him – within them mended. Dhengesea would come up in the morning to find Lehran lifting his sun up to the sunlight and bringing him to his shoulder for burping. With lehran around, the wet-nurse was almost completely unneeded.
“I had a child,” Lehran said sadly. That child, once such joyous news had turned into his undoing.
But Dhengesea planced his heavy hand on Lehran’s slim shoulder, the slightest inflection of comfort he could muster.
Lehran placed a hand upon Dhengesea’s chest, and it was not in mere comfort. It was appreciation, and for once, almost a playful gesture.
“You told me to forget it,” Dhengesea said.
“It shall be our secret,” Lehran breathed against his skin. “And ours alone.”
Never speak of what the night tells Lehran had told him that night. And he never did, even when Lehran disappeared to the barbaric Beorc lands beyond, Dhengesea never did.
Series: FE9 precanon
Character/Pairing: Dhengesea/Lehran with mentioned Dhengesea/Meria (his wife, noncanon name) and Lehran/Altina.
Rating: R/NC-17
Word count: 2,145
A/N: kink meme for: Dheginsea and anybody, I don't care who or when or how many times! He has kids, it had to happen some time or other, right? :D
myaru asked for Dhengesea. I KNOW SHE MADE THIS REQUEST ANYWAYS. I assume both Nasir and Dhengesea were married. They have children, after all and I doubt said children were cleaved from their brow. Their wives are never mentioned in canon, the name choices were simply so I wouldn’t constantly be stuck with the awkward ‘his wife’.
This was supposed to have another scene (with interculal no less.) but unfortunately the Fun New Position To Try had to be cut due to not fitting with the feel of the piece. Oh darn, looks like you guys get more of this pairing.
Lehran resembled his wife, but only slightly. Lehran had been far more frail though, Meria even being the most delicate dragon he had ever encountered still was oafish compared to his heron friend. But Meria was six months in the grave when Lehran came to rest in his halls again. His friend had changed in the years, time had left him unsettled and gaunt. There were hollows in his cheeks, unfamiliar marks across his neck and an overall weariness that settled over him like grey clouds over the mountains before a rainstorm.
The hems of his sleeves were let out to hide the bandages, but Dhengesea knew, knew as much as he sensed the weariness of the world of Lehran.
Dhengesea was not one for comfort. His father had taught him to be the Wall of Goldoa, and walls are not allowed living and breathing sentimental things. A Wall must stand whether its own lifeblood is at stake and in storm or sunlight. To take the throne of Goldoa was to cast aside every feeling for the good of the people. Wasn’t that the dilemma of every ruler of every generation? To feel was to fall, to let down one’s country and countrymen alike.
But still, he offered solace for his friend within the walls. He sent food to Lehran’s door only to have it left untouched in the morning. Lehran wore the mourning veils for the part of himself that had died.
Goldoa stood while his friend fell into an abyss. There were so many things a ruler could lose while self-effacing oneself into nothing but coldness. A friend was only one of them.
*
So it settled into being. Lehran became a half-living being, an amputee, a bird clipped of his wings. He kept to his rooms for months barely eating. At night, keening wails could be heard splitting the night. The Dirge of Mourning, a funeral song to be sang at the pyres of the deceased by the remaining bereaved.
Dhengesea kept his own sorrow locked tight. His mate had gone before him, but Walls were not given time to mourn. He could not take the trip to the sacred river Rhinionan and cast the ashes of the pyre over him. As a leader he couldn’t rend his clothes or spend his nights weeping over her.
The news came later of Altina’s remarriage. It only soured his taste towards the Beorc and their wishy-washy ways all the more. Dhengesea did not wish to relegate the news to another servant, nor did he wish to tell his friend either. Dhengesea did not know how to deal with the tears that would surely come, nor did he have much comfort to spare save for the safety of his country spread around Lehran. But when he came to break the news, Lehran stared out at the window, a silver-plated brush within his fingertips. It had been Meria’s. He gave it to Lehran shortly after his friend came. He thought she would’ve done the same had she still breathed.
“I already know, Dhengesea,” Lehran said. His voice was wispy quiet and his hair fluttered about him in the slight breeze.
He set the brush down upon the bed stand and turned to face Dhengesea. His friend’s eyes had a lifeless quality, as if the spirit had gone out of him. Still, even in this deathly light, Lehran had an unearthly beauty. Herons were widely renowned for their beauty. Many a paean had been sung to them, especially the white-winged royals. He knew many a love tale that had personally been inspired by Lehran and his friend had more than one admirer whose hopes had been dashed upon his marriage to Altina.
Dhengesea felt something within himself, embers of a flame that had gone out with Meria’s passing. Lehran stepped towards him, his hair swishing along with him. When he was immediately before Dhengesea, Lehran leaned up (some doing, considering the size difference) and pressed those luscious lips to Dhengesea’s own.
Lehran was talented. Dhengesea himself had married Meria young to ensure Goldoa remained united, he had little enough experience as it was. Lehran however had many lovers before Altina, both male and female.
Lehran’s lips were demanding. His arms clung tight around Dhengesea’s thick neck and soon Dhengesea found his hands by instinct cupping under Lehran’s slim buttocks and lifting him up for easier access. His friend was always light, but now Lehran was emaciated. It was so unbelievably light and soft that he cringed on his friend’s behalf.
Dhengesea heard a moan, too slight and high to be his own. It was followed by a deeper rumble of a growl – this was his own. He felt Lehran’s tongue pressing against his own lips insistently, asking for entrance and he gave it. They kissed like this for some unknown time, for Dhengesea lost himself for the first time since his wife’s passing. The spark grew to a flame and consumed him with a passion that seemed greater than even when she had been alive.
Lehran broke the kiss abruptly, so much so that Dhengesea almost pulled him close, to bring back that world-lifting bliss of their lips crushing together. Lehran struggled out and Dhengesea had almost thought that he had changed his mind when he dropped silently to the floor and bent to undo Dhengesea’s belt. Dhengesea stood tall as Lehran undid his pants. He stood tall as his friend coated his member with saliva from glans to base in one quick taste and only the faint trembling of his hands showed the extent of his arousal.
Lehran was a man of many talents, talents that Dhengesea had never even thought of. He had never thought of Lehran in these terms, or allowed himself to see what his friend’s soft hair might smell like or feel against his fingers. He had been a married man, and sublimination was as normal as breathing air, as drinking water .
Despite size differences, Lehran took Dhengesea’s member as deep as would allow. He hummed, as if to break out in song and the beat of it, the rhythm assailed and slipped into him. He felt Lehran’s tongue against the sensitive underneath, and Dhengesea felt a tremor through him. The solidness of himself was compromised. Something within him gave and broke. It was like the sound of waves crashing, the blood in his head. Nothing within him had given or relaxed since then, and his shoulders stooped as if a weight had been removed from them. Muscles relaxed, what had almost turned to statue turned back into mere flesh again. When he looked again the skirts of Lehran’s robes were pulled about his hips and he pressed his fingers into himself in a lifeless, mechanical rhythm.
Lehran stepped to the bed, his hands guiding Dhengesea towards its siren song calling.
Lehran fell back to it, into the softness, the grimness of his face almost abating for once. His hair spread out about him, dark, exquisite strands of the deepest black flooding over the deep green covers as if sections of night.
“Hold me,” Lehran said, and his gaze was unceasing, it held his with the same steel met strength of purpose that Lehran had always held sheathed within all that gentleness.
Dhengesea took steps forward as if a man mesmerized. He fell into the bed on the other side, rolled over until Lehran was straddling him and lifting the skirts of his skirted robes. His friend angled himself until it was Lehran’s body opening and giving until that same dense comfort of two bodies, the deepest solace to be known, was given.
Truth be told, this was an entirely new experience. He had never been pleasured orally by his wife, nor had they ever gone this route in lovemaking. This way was tighter, the muscles firmly clenched about him was enough to make even a dragon king lose his composure. He rocked and thrust and barely heard his friend’s moans over his own.
It had been too long, much too long since he’d felt arms about his, since he felt legs wrapped tight and easing him in more, more more. Too long since he had gone from his stone godhood to bend and love another person again.
*
Lehran took sick to his bedroom for two days after their rendezvous. While Lehran had slept curled into a fetal position beside him until morning, with daybreak brought a ceasing to the passion between them. Lehran was guarded, and there was no trace of the lissom seducer he had known the night before.
So it went. The walls went back up and Dhengesea returned to his endless watch over his country.
“Forget this ever happened,” Lehran said.
And he did, or claimed to as the thought of a pliant body against him, and warmth and dark wings coursed through him. It left him no peace within day or night.
*
Lehran began to come out from his imposed exile. He showed up about the dragon court and was well greeted by those who would beg for his fabled songs. Lehran could only refuse, his face pained, as if someone had accidentally touched a healing wound.
Dhengesea kept his distance. The walls had been erected. It was a shame to cause a friendship that had lasted almost as long as both had been alive to unravel, but things like this happened. Dhengesea assumed it would return to normal eventually, it was only now that they both remembered the feel of each other’s bodies and what the drive of the need for comfort had brought them to.
They danced with the smallest amount of polite talk often broken by meetings or servants or people wishing to talk to Lehran, the legendary companion of the Goddess. This happened for days, weeks, and would be months had not Dhengesea spied on a scene that felled those invisible barriers.
Once when he heard his youngest son mewling, with his wet-nurse away with a sickness, Dhengesea left his post as he heard the cries diminish. He peered in to see a familiar robed finger seated at the side of his son. Lehran bent over the crib. He sang a soft Heron’s lullaby and Kurthnaga gurgled at the notes that seemed the float and hang above him.
Dhengesea had meant to slip away unnoticed, but Lehran looked up unexpectedly. Even without with deeper Heron senses, he was still a Laguz at heart. They shared a secret smile, a bonding and mending of the unraveled strands between them.
“He likes you,” Dhengesea said
“He’s a good baby,” Lehran said.
“He’ll follow after his mother, I think. He’s got the same kind of gentleness in his blood.”
Lehran halfsmiled and returned to his singing, the first since the loss of his inner bird. He sang a song of blessing and kindness and Dhengesea could only thing that with this, such gentleness and fragility could only rub off on his son even more.
Years later, he would find this thought turned true.
*
After that scene, Lehran often visited Kurthnaga’s crib, and day by day the broken parts with him – within them mended. Dhengesea would come up in the morning to find Lehran lifting his sun up to the sunlight and bringing him to his shoulder for burping. With lehran around, the wet-nurse was almost completely unneeded.
“I had a child,” Lehran said sadly. That child, once such joyous news had turned into his undoing.
But Dhengesea planced his heavy hand on Lehran’s slim shoulder, the slightest inflection of comfort he could muster.
Lehran placed a hand upon Dhengesea’s chest, and it was not in mere comfort. It was appreciation, and for once, almost a playful gesture.
“You told me to forget it,” Dhengesea said.
“It shall be our secret,” Lehran breathed against his skin. “And ours alone.”
Never speak of what the night tells Lehran had told him that night. And he never did, even when Lehran disappeared to the barbaric Beorc lands beyond, Dhengesea never did.
