The Guard

EPILOGUE

If they stand behind you, give them protection...

If they stand beside you, give them respect...

If they stand against you, show them no mercy...

The words echoe in her head as she stands vigil in front of the tearful princess. It had been hours since word had come; the King was dead. The guard had been impressed at the princess' composure, wearing a mask of indifference until the wooden doors had closed behind her.

Even now she could still hear the tears coming from within.

She shouldn't feel so frustrated with the princess, after all, she understood the pain of losing a parent. But the young woman had a lot more to grieve than just the absence of a doting, loving father.

"Annie." The bored voice of the prince drew her attention away from the blank bit of space she had been staring off into for Gods knew how long. He looked well enough to the casual observer, but she saw the tension in his shoulders, the deep bags under his eyes. She blinked at him, uncertain as to how to greet him now. She settled for a bow of her upper body and head.

"Your Majesty?" She heard the question in her voice and hated herself for it. The prince must've heard it to, with the answering smirk he gave her.

"How is she?" Annie shook her head, unable to explain that no matter how many hours or days passed she feared her young mistress would never recover from the death of her father. She certainly hadn't.

The prince pursed his lips. Strutting the few steps forward required to reach her. Despite the fact she had grown up around the royal, it was hard to remember exactly what and who he was. Prince Scion stopped short, just a few steps away from the ornate wooden doors.

"Would she be...reciprocative to me if I entered?" A glance, and a tightening of his fists at his side. She wondered if he'd even seen the body before now. If he'd even been allowed to grieve befor the officials had badgered him into meeting after meeting discussing the fate of the kingdom.

"Yes, I think she would be." It's what she would have wanted after all, in the hours after her own father's death.

Taking a deep breath, the prince squared his shoulders and pulled open the doors. It was only due to her training that Annie heard the rush of air that poured out of him upon seeing the body of the king. The doors closed with a soft thud behind him, and Annie wondered how long she would be standing out here, while the world waited out there for their new king to emerge.

_________________

They'd all heard the rumours, of course. That the king had been poisoned. His food and drink laced with a serious concoction of all types of nasty things. Someone on the inside had wanted King Farshlien dead. The body laid out on cold concrete was just proof of that. Despite the fact they'd dressed him up, they couldn't take away that unworldly sheen in his eyes.

Poison. Magic. No-one could say for certain. And Scion couldn't stop thinking about it. No matter how much the guards insisted they wouldn't let anything happen to him. Despite the increase of personele, she still found a way into his bedroom. She slipped in like a thief in the night, but was a much prettier sight than that.

"My prince." Her sultry voice echoed off the quiet castle walls, and he could feel the smirk lifting the side of her pretty mouth. "Or should I start calling you 'king' now?"

He growled and she giggled, the lightness tearing him away from the dark thoughts and instead stumbling towards her. A careful hand grabbed under his arm, her face a portrait of disgust as she beheld his breath.

She tsked at him. And he marvelled at the audacity of it all. "My king, if you wish to have any form of pleasure, I suggest you take a shower."

Ever so gently she lead him to the adjoining bathing room. And he got to see her properly for the first time since that afternoon. She had discarded the guards armour in favour of a pretty little red lace thing that had his mouth watering and skin itching to touch hers.

"Annie..." Her name was barely a breath from his lips as she gathered a cloth in her hands, dipping it into the still warm water.

"Come on then." She glanced at his still clothed body. "My love, you can't very well bath in that." He wasn't sure whether she meant the clothes or the golden crown sitting on his brow.

He discarded it all on the tile floor as she watched, her eyes never dipped below his face until he was standing there in all his glory before her. Not a prince, or a king. A man.

"Much better." She beckoned him forward, a soft smile on her lips.

The soft blue washcloth that touched his skin sent tingles down his spine as she ever so slowly circled his shoulders. "So much tension." She mumbled, gently kissing the nape of his neck, as her deft hands moved lower.

Water dripped down his abdomen as she circled over his chest. His eyes widened when her hand circled him. Licking his lips and gulping, his eyes dragged downwards to where their bodies had been connected by those delicate fingers stroking at his manliness.

The washcloth was discarded to the other side of the bathroom, her now freehand coming to caress the side of his face. Nothing made him feel like this. Made him feel so alive.

"Back to bed?" She questioned, biting her lip deliciously.

He could only nod, taking her by the hand and slowly leading her to the pitch black room. He'd have to move to the kings suite soon. He didn't want to think about it. What that meant. For them.

He didn't realise how still he'd been standing until he felt her lips close around him. A very effective way to bring him back to the here and now. He groaned lowly as she peered up at him, the sound vibrating through the empty space.

Her tongue was like fire, everywhere and nowhere, reaching parts of himself he hadn't even explored. And when he least expected it, she took him into her mouth, deep into the recesses of her throat, bobbing there while he thrust and shook.

A kiss to the tip had her smirking up at him once more, and he was reminded of how beautiful she was. "Are you ready, my king?"

The question hung heavily between them for a precious moment until he seized her tenderly, bringing his lips to hers, and kissing her. The emotion pouring out of him and into the kiss as she positioned herself to hover above him. He could feel the aching heat of her. Leaning down to nip him on the ear gently, he could even feel the wetness of her.

"Are you ready my King?" The question repeated, a force to be reckoned with. He had to answer her, to have her.

"Yes." He breathed.

She claimed him immediately, settling him deep within her, allowing them both a moment of reprieve before she began to move. No time for regrets. No time for second guessing. He knew only the sound and smell of her, the way she pressed herself as close to him as possible. The way her breath shortened and her body shook, squeezing him tighter, pleading with him to give the command.

"Come for me, Annie." His voice was stronger than he thought it would be, a commanding force that brought her moaning, coming down around him in a fit of pleasure.

A moment. Two. She lifted her head, smiling at him. She was so beautiful. His heart ached for all the love he held for her in his heart. All the love he would never be allowed to cherish.

"Long live King Scion."

It was the last he saw of her for several years.