A sequel (next generation) of sorts to the original Ozorne/Wyldon "Maybe He's Born With It". It's a pretty emperor thing. You think you're well out of it and then bam! Another emperor has long, curly eyelashes. What's a girl to do? Also a tangent off of the WIP "Seven Contés that Kaddar Never Married" over at my LJ. Roald/Kaddar because Kaddar and Jonathan don't play nice. And I totally won't admit to writing this, so don't ask.

Maybe He's Born With It
or How Kaddar got his Groove Back

ononono

Roald was used to following the rules and doing what was expected of him; he was well accustomed to waiting and listening, and keeping his more radical ideas and opinions to himself. He would have his day soon enough, Roald knew, and was not overly anxious too see it too soon. Being groomed for ruling, the feeling of getting there, it wrapped around Roald like a safety blanket.

What Roald wasn't familiar with (and was at once both unnerving and entirely too comfortable), was being pressed up against like he was now in an empty corridor – the Emperor of Carthak's hipbones pressing roughly against the top of his thighs and forcing Roald back against the sharp brick wall.

Kaddar – the name still sounded strange and unfamiliar in Roald's mind – was braced against the wall, his hands on either side of Roald's head and was busy making a visible path down Roald's throat and chest with his mouth.

They shouldn't be doing this, Roald thought even as he was leaning into the contact, and he could see Kally's hurt, confused expression as clearly as if she standing in front of him. He shouldn't be thinking about her when he was doing this – especially not with her fiancé – not with anyone, but instead it made him hard and that was definitely not him moaning, right? Kaddar was grinning the most predatory smile Roald had ever seen and Gods, Roald was so obviously fucked up.

ononono

Tonight had been Kaddar and Kally's engagement party and rather than be the one to ruin his sister's night, Roald had fled a short while ago, slightly tipsy and uncharacteristically over-emotive.

To his surprise, Kaddar had followed him out of the festivities and into a cool maze of corridors that wound through the heart of the palace. Roald had raised his goblet – could he have inherited alcoholism from Uncle Myles, even if they weren't (strictly speaking) related? He seemed to be headed that way - in a semi-mocking toast to the Emperor.

Kaddar had thanked him in sincere tones and inquired as to what was troubling the Prince. Roald had paused, mouth open and half prepared to respond before shaking his head at his own folly.

Later, Roald was unclear on what had happened after this, but he could recall the initial physical contact -- the shock not unlike that of diving into cold water -- and his slow, hesitant response to Kaddar.

ononono

Roald was the taller of the two men, but Kaddar was solid and when the Emperor went down on his knees – clumsily pulling Roald's tunic from breeches, nails scratching tight stomach muscles – Roald supported himself on Kaddar's shoulders.

Roald wrapped his fingers in Kaddar's silk shirt – Roald felt that this was an awkward moment to notice that he'd never done this with someone of his own class – and twisted because Kaddar had no hair to grab, and his mouth was wet and warm on Roald.

Kaddar's eyes were huge when he stared up at Roald, and they looked even bigger and darker than they really were because of the black kohl, and he never seemed to blink or look away. When Kaddar's eyes finally fluttered shut, Roald couldn't help but think, somewhat stupidly, how pretty it was. His mind rambled on, wondering if Kaddar and Kally would do their face paint together, and how their children would look, and why couldn't he think coherent thoughts?

When Kaddar's fingers pulled Roald forward, rings digging into the base of his back and thumbs hooking around his waist, Roald's stomach dropped and sentence structure was no longer as issue.

ononono

When Roald opened his eyes, Kaddar was staring again.

"Huh," was about all Roald could manage.

"Not the profession of gratitude I'd hoped for," remarked Kaddar ruefully.

"Thanks…?" Stammered Roald, cheeks flushed.

Kaddar, hands pushing on thighs, got to his feet. Leaning forwards, he placed a chaste kiss on Roald's left cheek.

"That the Gods will watch over you, and the Graveyard Hag bends to your will as you keep watch over your county," Kaddar said solemnly. "Your subjects need you more than they themselves are capable of knowing."

Roald wasn't too sure about the last bit, but he really hoped that the Gods hadn't been watching him just then; there were probably special realms of torture for people like him. But then again, Roald was pretty sure that this was just the wine talking – he was heir to the Tortallan throne. He was responsible.

ononono