Skin pressed on skin, lips on lips—an urgent, fiery embrace that seemed to consume them whole. Vaelorian's and Riven's bodies were tangled together in a wild, desperate dance of passion, their mouths hungrily devouring each other as if the very air might vanish if they paused. It was as though this moment was the only thing that mattered—a feast for their senses, a symphony of longing and need that drowned out everything else around them. They had come here intending only to train, but their bodies had other plans.
Suddenly, a voice shattered the haze. Gruff, gravelly, with the weight of someone who had been watching for a while, it echoed across the old training room.
"Haven't you two had enough?"
Riven jerked back as if burned, his face flushed and breathless, eyes wide with shock and embarrassment. He looked as if he'd been caught in the act of something forbidden. For a moment, he stood frozen, trembling slightly as the realization hit him—they'd been caught!
"Who is that? What's he doing here?"
Riven asked, voice trembling, cheeks still tinged pink from their kiss. His words came out hurried, almost a whisper and Vaelorian chuckled softly, a warm, knowing sound that seemed to ease the tension like a gentle breeze.
"Right! You two haven't officially met," he said, his voice light but with an undertone of amusement. Turning to the figure who had spoken, Vaelorian's tone became serious. "Riven, meet Sir Eryndor—the emperor's knight and my good friend."
The older man stepped forward, a tall, imposing figure clad in armor that shimmered softly in the afternoon sun. He nodded politely, eyes kind yet sharp, as if he could see right through to their souls. Then Vaelorian added, with a teasing grin,
"Eryndor knows everything about you already, Riven. So there's no point in introducing you to him, my love."
Riven's eyes widened further. "He's the one, isn't he?" he exclaimed, pointing accusingly at Eryndor, a flicker of suspicion and curiosity mixing in his gaze.
Vaelorian nodded gently, confirming Riven's suspicion, and the younger boy's gaze darkened with a mixture of annoyance and anger. His instinct was to march over and confront the knight—ready to demand answers or maybe even give Eryndor a piece of his mind.
But before he could move, Vaelorian's arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him back gently but firmly.
"Whoa, calm down, my love," he whispered softly, voice soothing. "We've moved on from that, remember? Eryndor only did what I asked. You can't blame him." His words were tender, reassuring, trying to diffuse the tension, to remind Riven of how far they have come.
Sir Eryndor, sensing the need for clarity, cleared his throat and addressed them politely. "Your Highness," he said, his tone respectful but earnest, "may I be included in your dialogue? Or perhaps you could tell me why the young Lord is glaring at me so fiercely?"
"He's upset about how we found the information about him" Vaelorian filled sir Eryndor in and realization dawn on him as he suddenly understood the cause of the glare.
Vaelorian holding Riven in his arms gave an encouraging nod to the older man, gesturing for him to speak.
"Go ahead, Eryndor."
The knight stepped closer, his gaze steady. "Lord Riven, I apologize for my earlier actions. There's no excuse for what I did. But right now, there are more pressing matters we need to address." His voice was calm but firm, leaving no room for doubt.
Riven relaxed into Vaelorian's embrace, listening intently as Eryndor continued. "His Highness mentioned you possess the gift of strength, which is admirable, but that alone isn't enough. We can't change your physique, but we can focus on developing other qualities."
Riven's brow furrowed. "Did he just insult me?" he asked, turning to Vaelorian with a mixture of defensiveness and hurt.
"No, he didn't!" Vaelorian said quickly, voice gentle but firm. "He wouldn't dare. What Eryndor is trying to say is, people who don't know you will judge you by your appearance. And I want you to know—you're very beautiful. Inside and out." His eyes softened as he looked at Riven, a tender smile playing on his lips.
Riven's face flashed and he glared at Vaelorian.
"You mean I look like a girl?" he snapped, voice rising defensively. His cheeks flamed with embarrassment and frustration. Sir Eryndor tried to hide a smile, but Riven caught it and felt even more annoyed.
Vaelorian reached out, cupping Riven's cheeks gently, his touch warm and reassuring.
"I'm saying you're perfect just the way you are, my love." he whispered softly, planting a light, lingering kiss on Riven's cheek. The younger boy scoffed, rolling his eyes, but a faint blush betrayed his facade.
"So, why is he here again?" Riven asked, trying to steer the conversation back on track, though his voice still carried a hint of embarrassment.
"Right," Vaelorian said with a grin, "Eryndor will be training you from now on."
Riven's eyes widened. "What? Why?" he whined, crossing his arms defensively.
"It's obvious I can't train with you anymore," Vaelorian explained, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. "We need all the training we can get if you're going to join the knight squad…"
"Hold on—what do you mean it's obvious you can't train with me? And which knight squad are you talking about?" Riven interrupted, his voice rising with confusion and a touch of frustration.
Vaelorian chuckled softly, the gleam in his eyes playful. "I was getting to that," he said, eyes twinkling. "First of all, we haven't been able to do real training lately—whenever we touch, we end up tearing each other's clothes off or… well, you get the idea." He winked at Riven, whose face turned a bright pink, and he crossed his arms stubbornly. "Exactly," Vaelorian continued. "So, no more training together—at least not the kind that involves physical contact. And as for the second part…" he turned to Sir Eryndor, who nodded once more.
"By the end of your time here in camp, some of you will be scouted to join the Emperor's Knights squad," he explained. "His Highness wants you to be among them."
Riven's eyes narrowed. "Oh, so you're all worried I won't make the cut because I look like a girl?"
Sir Eryndor chuckled softly. "First of all, you do not look like a girl, fragile but not a girl." he said, a hint of amusement in his tone. "And secondly, you're my Prince's lover. You don't need to prove anything to anyone. We're doing this because we believe in you—and because his Highness wants to keep you close."
Why was the knight so supportive about this? Why was Vaelorian speaking so openly about them in front of another person? Riven looked at Vaelorian, searching his face for reassurance. The older boy's smile was confident and proud.
"While we can all agree that you're not exactly built like a traditional knight," Vaelorian admitted, "but that's your secret weapon. We're going to make sure you're faster, stronger, and more elusive than anyone expects. No one will ever see you coming."
Riven hesitated, then nodded, determination igniting within him. "Alright, I'll do as you say," he declared, eyes shining with resolve. "But… you'll stay with me, won't you?"
"Always," Vaelorian promised softly, his gaze tender yet fierce. "I'm not going anywhere."
A grin spread across Riven's face as he clapped his hands, taking a fighting stance. "Alright then! Let's get this show on the road!" he exclaimed, voice brimming with energy. "Don't hold back, Sir Eryndor—I can take a beating, no matter what I look like!"
Vaelorian chuckled at his lover's enthusiasm, pride swelling in his chest. As Riven prepared himself for the challenge ahead, the flames of purpose burned brighter—ready to forge a knight out of the fragile looking boy who refused to back down from a fight.