Lassarina (lassarina) wrote in kinkfest, @ 2007-09-01 16:29:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | a: lassarina, f: final fantasy tactics, p: delita/ovelia, september 01 |
Negotiations [FF Tactics, Delita/Ovelia]
Title: Negotiations
Author/Artist: Lassarina Aoibhell (lassarina)
Rating: PG? Vague references to sex.
Warnings: Spoilery, I suppose.
Wordcount: ~500
Summary: It is a business arrangement, but it need not be so unpleasant.
Prompt: politics in bed - a diplomatic and mutually beneficial agreement
Ovelia sat at her dressing table and drew the brush through her hair slowly. She carefully did not look at her new husband as he disrobed. Below, she heard the sounds of revelry as the Queen's wedding was toasted with great enthusiasm, much of it false.
Ivalice had slipped through her hands. She was the perfect pawn, a figurehead equipped for failure and designed to fall, that others might seize the reins of power in her place.
She knew not whether Delita would be her support, or the axe chopping it away.
She did not hear him approach, and started when his fingers closed gently around her wrist. "You will pull all your hair out," he said, taking the brush from her and setting it aside. "Do you fear me so much?"
"I do not know whether I should fear you or trust you," she replied. "You saved me from another's plots, only to enmesh me in your own. You unraveled the lie that is my life, then supported it by helping make me Queen. You are never the same from one moment to the next."
"Ah, but unlike the others who have used you, I have not tried to kill you, nor have I lied to you." The corners of his mouth quirked slightly upward. "That alone is more honesty than most Queens ever get."
"What do you want from this, Delita? What do you truly want?" Ovelia stood, but even then she was at a disadvantage and needs must tilt her head back to look him in the eye.
"That would have been a wise question to ask before you wed me," he pointed out.
She blinked back stinging tears. "Have I made the right choice?"
"You would prefer your land torn by war?" Delita's hand rested lightly on her shoulder. "Come, Your Majesty. I would not have it said the Queen was ill-served by her commoner husband on her wedding night."
She turned her head away. "Do not."
"Ah, Ovelia." His fingers closed gently on her jaw, turning her head toward him. "If nothing else will serve, think of Ivalice, and the pain you are saving your people," he suggested, "but I would like to think that this arrangement need not be distasteful to you."
She had no answer for him, but neither did she resist him when he bent down to kiss her. He drew her slowly toward their bed, gently divesting her of her garments as they went. His hands were clever and confident, and he was gentle with her. It was more than she had expected.
Later, when they lay with half a sword-length between them in the enormous bed, sweat drying on their skin, she propped herself up on one elbow and turned to him. "Delita?"
"Yes?" He turned his head slightly to face her.
"I know I am a fraud. But I would learn to be a good Queen, if you will teach me."
He smiled. "I will teach you to rule with the best interests of your people in mind," he agreed. "It will be a mutually beneficial arrangement."