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There was something disingenuous about what had happened.Though the others didn't seem to flinch, Hien felt as though their bid to win the Nadaam had been in the end rather exploitative. In another situation, he'd have considered it an underhanded and dishonorable way to 'win'-- but this was a case of desperation. Hien had been more than prepared to die before his retainers and the Warrior of Light had found him at Reunion. Now, he had abandoned any despair to reckless hope instead although he disliked the idea of using the people of the Steppe as a weapon. Involving them in their conflict in the first place did not sit well with him.
And after his encounter with the now former Khagan at the apex of the Dawn Throne, his mixed feelings went even further.
The morning came bringing with it their final visit to the seat of the Oronir's power.
Hien also did not much like the idea of letting someone else win his victories for him, but he knew all too well that it was best for him to speak in diplomatic situations such as this. When they came before Magnai publicly as a group, Hien avoided his gaze and let him have his theatrical moment so as to avoid meeting his eyes-- instead feigning to gawk at Cirina or Lyse or-- he'd not cared to pay any mind to whom it was in the end.
A lesser man might have played off what had happened between himself and Magnai as a matter of necessity; savage violence enacted between rivals in a culture that revolved around the might of warriors. But that was a coward's way of thinking. Hien knew that he had sought out the encounter, unable to wrangle his natural curiosity-- and to seek out the ever-so-satisfying way that he and Magnai clashed with each other.
The memories of that night played over and over in his head, imaginings of his own cries of pleasure echoing from the walls of this very room making it a bit hard to focus.
As the others went to make camp on the grassy terrace and prepare for their leaving journey, Hien lingered behind. They would stay the night before setting out-- one more night on the Steppe that he had come to love. Much as he had told Magnai before the Nadaam: his soul belonged to Doma, but he was here on the Steppe in the present. If he were not bound by duty, Hien was sure that he could happily live out his days here among these people-- and it made his heart twist in his chest.
He would not fail his people, even if it meant resigning himself to rule and all of the weight that came with it.
Hien had not noticed the Khan approaching him, so lost in thought was he-- and when he shifted close enough to be in his personal bubble, the prince jumped back so far that he painfully scraped his bare shoulder on the door frame. Wincing and rubbing at it, he shot Magnai a look as though it were his fault and got an eye roll in response.
"Your champions have had their way. I know not as to whether or not you shame us by this agenda... we shall see. If that is the case, I shall not hesitate to challenge you once more." Magnai spoke in his usual low rumble-- smooth as velvet poison.
"I don't think that will be an issue, Brother Magnai," Hien responded pleasantly as he looked not at the Khan but into the distance and the stretching horizon beyond the Dawn Throne.
He rested his arm against the ever-present hilt of his katana at his side, expression as frustratingly placid as it ever had been.
"It is a mercy that I allow you this, Doman. By all rights you ought to belong to me and serve me until the end of your days." Magnai responded, cryptic as ever.
"Is that so? By all rights, I didn't know you could be so romantic." Hien now turned to look at him, hazel gaze aglimmer with amusement.
Magnai's lips parted, momentarily mortified that his theatrical puffing-up-of-his-chest had been seen through so easily and thoroughly. For several long moments, he lost any ability to keep up his usual pretense: even so going so far as to wring his hands and look down, a blush coloring his cheeks.
Hien took advantage of the glimpse of weakness and stood on his toes, reaching up to gently brush his fingers through the braids in the Oronir's hair. Magnai's eyes shot open at the sensation of his touch, but he did not pull away. His gaze shifted as though fearful that someone might see-- that his carefully built illusion might crumble--
And Hien calmly pulled his hand back to himself, still smiling warmly when he realized Magnai's discomfort. He had no desire to embarrass or endanger him at least-- not in public.
"Mayhap in another life, I would have gladly pledged my life to the sun." He mused.
"I will win you your kingdom, Doman. I will present it to you as our Khagan demands. And then, you shall be a king... and mayhap a king may do a little more of whatever he likes than a prince may." He shrugged at that, amber gaze still distant. "Not that I know or care at all about such conventions. They are not the laws of the Steppe, and mean nothing to me."
The deflection made Hien laugh-- a light and airy sound like the song of wind through reeds. It made Magnai's chest seize and his pulse quicken.
It was easy for Hien to see through Magnai's guise though he wasn't sure why. Perhaps it was simply that he had carried similar airs in order to protect his family's honor in a flawed social setting, or it was the fact that he loved the theatrics of the cat-and-mouse game they played. The reasoning didn't much matter to him, only that his fondness only grew.
"Ah, of course. Our ways are not your ways. Would that it were so simple to settle matters of state when disagreements occurred." Hien chuckled again, looking down and doing his own "casual" glance to see if anyone had noticed that he had yet to rejoin the sortie.
"I would run my fingers through your unbound hair once more," Magnai said then, the tone still the same, though his attention and meaning had obviously shifted and become more genuine.
"Magnai," The name was spoken tremulously as though it were a sacred thing: far more soft and vulnerable and sweet than any ridiculous titles so easily bandied about between the two of them.
"You make camp here tonight, no?" At that, the Khan reached out and brushed the backs of his knuckles against the curve of Hien's jaw, brushing against the rough stubble that Auri men lacked the ability to grow-- though their scales seemed often enough to resemble it after a fashion.
"Is this your way of propositioning me? I must needs clarity." Hien's voice came out lowered and sincere rather than playful as it had been before.
"I would have you bask in the sun's radiance once more... before you go too far from his reach." That was as clear and simple as he would get from Magnai, and he nodded, even as the Oronir's fingers passed from his face to slip through the coarse strands of his hair, though they were bound atop his head as always rather than loose as Magnai seemed to prefer.
"Tonight while the others sleep I shall come to you, then." He responded gently.
Magnai watched him in silence a bit longer, trying to restore a more appropriate amount of personal space between them should someone witness their conversation. Hien thought his eyes rather a lot like burning coals, the luminescence they possessed something wholly foreign and yet nearly divine in nature.
Their silent companionship was disturbed only when Lyse was finally sent to find him, promising food and wondering if anything was wrong.
He assured her that everything was fine and bid a cordial and sterile farewell to the Khan as he followed her, without sparing a glance behind. The Scions and their ilk were altogether too perceptive for their own good, and he wished not to have any further questions aimed his way.
That said, it took all of his self-control not to glance over his shoulder, but knew from every legend of the sort he'd ever heard that he mustn't, or risk losing his ability to walk away altogether.
He did, however, rouse a bit of suspicion when he quickly ate lunch and announced that he would be retiring to the yurt they were using for an afternoon nap. Few questioned what the prince might choose to do with his time, however, and he went about it unharassed.
Magnai, on the other hand, found his afternoon much less enjoyable. He regarded their guests with a fair amount of bitterness, though that was more a matter of pride than any real dislike, and thus remained sequestered in the throne room as he often was. From there, he attended to all matters brought before him as he always would though in reality, these things were few and far between. The people of the Steppe were fiercely independent, and while Magnai widely had their respect that did not mean that he was terribly well-liked.
Ever since the founding of Reunion, there had been a small shift in power and in the way that the Steppe and its people conducted themselves, and while it was a source of annoyance for Magnai-- he did not begrudge the people these changes.
In the end, he spent most of his day having sunk into his chair for long hours and then pacing whenever his joints started to ache. Baatu remained incapacitated, but Daidukul was present as ever, offering his kinship and company though... Magnai hardly seemed interested in the latter which he found terribly curious.
"Your radiance, if I may-- your shine seems awfully blunted by that Doman. Tell me, are you allowing yourself to be eclipsed, after all?"
Daidukul's use of the word eclipse made Magnai bare his teeth if only for a moment. Usually, Daidukul and his men served as powerful informants that helped keep Magnai in control of the Dawn Throne and peoples' movements upon it. That didn't leave them exempt from the reality of the Khan's more unpredictable temperaments.
"I am searching for my Nhaama," Magnai said stubbornly, refusing to address the implied questions.
"That you are, my friend." Daidukul snickered to himself and rolled his shoulders. There was an air of amusement that also reflected the Buduga Khan's sense of pride.
"We do not begrudge you your hiding... but you deny yourself to yourself, and you shall be greatly diminished." It was as gently as he could nudge Magnai without upsetting him, he supposed.
"Bah," The Khan grumbled and returned to slump into the Dawn Throne. Daidukul remained standing in place quietly as he ever did, watching the door though they were expecting no further visitors.
"Who are you to decide what form your Nhaama may take? You may be the child of Azim, but you cannot feign to know his will."
There was nothing he could do to change the facts of the matter. Though he denied it even to himself, Magnai had created an image of the perfect woman-- a partner that could not exist; and yet when Hien appeared before him, he found those very same things in his grace and strength. The thought was terrifying-- when it was absolutely expected of him as an Oronir to pass on his blood and to behave in a certain way--
"You'll say nothing of this," He said, his own self-inflicted misery dripping from his words.
"As you wish, Brother Magnai." And Daidukul's own response came littered with the sharp sound of disappointment. He would not outstep his bounds, though his frustration seemed perfectly justified. Perhaps with time, even someone as stubborn as Magnai could be enlightened-- but Daidukul wasn't going to hold his breath.
His fellow Khan and business partner may have been able to speak to him on a level that nearly no one else was allowed to, but there were some things that even he knew were best left to the aether.
When an evening meal was served, Hien was surprised when Magnai was nowhere to be found. It seemed to be more or less accepted that he had no wish to mingle with the common folk-- though if what he'd heard on their first visit to the dawn throne was true then... well, Magnai had never been terribly popular until he proved himself as a warrior. It was strange to think of the overbearing Khan as a scholarly youth, zealous in his faith to a fault.
Hien reclined near a flickering oil lamp, listening to the sounds of the Morin Khuur and the entrancing vocal style of the Steppe. He found it strange and fascinating that they played a similar if not selfsame instrument in mainland Doma as well, though he supposed it was likely imported from the Steppe ages ago. Their worlds were so close and yet so different-- the threads that bound them together also wove them apart.
Seeing the warrior of light and Lyse to bed was the last thing that Hien charged himself with for the night, and he pointedly ignored the way that Yugiri was watching him, suspicious of his more-detached-than-usual attitude. He hoped it merely passed for nerves and his own inherent focus on what must next be done.
His expression allowed for no questioning as he sat near the entrance to their yurt, and he held the look as best he could as Yugiri finally excused herself for the night. Hien waited in the hopes that she would simply go to sleep, but he did not want to waste any time.
When he entered the Dawn Throne proper, no one gave him so much as a second glance. In fact, it seemed as though the handful of Oronir and Buduga still about in the halls were averting their gazes entirely on purpose and it both soothed his worry while making him feel as though he stood out.
He nearly got turned around on his way to Magnai's room but managed to find it with a bit of backtracking. After all, he had hardly been in a sensible state the first time he'd been taken there. After hesitating for a few moments, he raised his hand to knock on the heavy wooden door, only to have it swing open before he could do so.
Hien had to stop short to avoid rapping his knuckles on Magnai's ribs and took a step back out of pure surprise when he lowered his head in what could almost be mistaken for a bow in greeting. The khan stepped aside for him and held the door open. Honestly, Hien was surprised that Magnai had made no attempts to hide that he was waiting with obviously bated breath for his arrival. It was... almost sweet.
"I came as soon as I was sure most of my camp slept. Forgive me if I kept you waiting." Hien said by way of introduction.
He took a chance now to really look around in the dim light. He hadn't had the capacity to really take it in the first time he'd been there, but now he could. The interior was terribly romantic-- nearly lavish as far as their culture seemed to allow. The plaster walls were alight with murals, likely depicting the stories that Magnai professed as his solemn truth and the core of his identity. There was a delicate but functional screen that stood, obscuring the area where he knew there was a large tub for bathing, and nearby it the pile of furs and cushions that was where Magnai slept. In the center was a low table and brazier with the coals of a small fire still burning, likely where he took his meals and how he kept warm.
High above, the moonlight streamed in through a skylight that likely also served to let the smoke from his fire escape, and it cut through the warm light of the oil lamps like a blade. Dust danced in the air, reflecting the light with some ethereal spark.
Hien drifted further into the room as Magnai closed the door behind him and then came to stand close behind the prince. Without so much as a word, he reached up and gently tugged lose the colored ribbons that bound Hien's hair high on the back of his head, and let it fall down around the other man's shoulders in waves. He had said that that was all he wanted-- to run his fingers through his loose hair once more.
His visual exploration of the room came to an end as he turned to look at Magnai over his shoulder. The expression on the Auri man's face was so tender, so warm that it took his breath away. Hien couldn't remember anyone save perhaps his mother ever looking at him like that, and even then only when she thought he wasn't looking-- so as to not hurt his pride.
Magnai may have struggled with internalized doubt and self-loathing, but now, alone with the prince-- that seemed to be a million yalms away.
Thinking back, the attraction had been immediate though the Khan had been terribly ill-equipped to recognize it. Even now, he could hardly bring himself to think of what was actually going on-- he drowned in the moment rather than trying to make sense of what it meant or how he was meant to frame it. The fleeting fragility of this one night was something he couldn't bear to risk breaking.
"And so you have your wish, son of Azim," Hien said softly.
Magnai ran his fingers back through the waves of Hien's thick hair, admiring how it looked in the glow, how it appeared to be drenched in moonlight. He was quiet for a few moments as he did this, though his gaze was full of all that he could not say.
"T'was never conquest... t'was never a contest for you. You had no need of fighting, for you had already won. How is it so easy for you to best me so when I am..." Magnai trailed off, though there was no hostility in his lamenting.
Hien shifted closer, head tilted back that he may better watch Magnai's face.
"You are...?" He meant of course, that he was born of divinity and Hien was not, that they were mismatched by all conventions of Oroniri belief. Hien had no answer, no solution to this constant grief that plagued the Khan. There was no easy answer, no good response.
"From whence you came can do little for you while you walk upon the star. You can only see where you are going, and what is just behind you" He finally offered, trying to avoid piquing Magnai's temper while still being truthful.
"You soon go from father Azim's embrace. Beyond the Steppe I cannot offer you anything but the thoughts that go with you as we prepare to fight your war." There was some admission that he knew his people would die on the fields of glory for Hien's sake, as always the weaker, the lesser 'civilized' becoming fodder in the wars of attrition between others.
But though they were as good as invaders, Magnai would not deny the law of the Steppe which he saw as the will of Azim. And for Hien, he would have gone himself to fight-- though he would never admit this.
"As you have said before, and as I have, as well-- I cannot extract myself from my duty, and you must abide by your selfsame laws and tradition. This will not change. --Then let us forget such things and have this night."
Magnai nearly scoffed, and his misery was written so clearly on his face that Hien clicked his tongue. Though they were different, he could see so much of himself in Magnai-- and how hopeless he became in the face of the seemingly insurmountable odds.
Magnai's hands cradled the sides of Hien's head, fingers passing through the strands of his hair as though he thought it to be the finest silk; a treasure rather than just a common part of someone's body.
"I wish.. I... wish," He trailed off, failing to make any coherent statement.
Hien looked up to meet his eyes and gave him a sad smile. "You need not say it if it is too difficult. Whatever it may be, I think I feel something much the same."
And at that, Magnai sniffled-- a sight that Hien had never thought he'd see. Despite the naturally dark nature of the Auri's eyes, he could see how wet they had become. Hien did not wish to shame him, but neither did he wish to miss a moment. To reciprocate the gentle touch he was being so freely given, the prince reached up and brushed his fingertips lightly against the scales on the Khan's cheeks, chasing away any tears that dared to fall.
"We shall meet again, Magnai. Mark my words. Trust me." He would make no mention of anything else-- no posturing about how he would free their part of the world from the Garlean menace. He felt it was not the time, nor the place and really he still had faltering confidence as far as all of that went.
"I trust you." Spoken plainly, if not a bit strained by the obvious lump in the Khan's throat.
Hien didn't say anything more, but leaned up on his toes and clutched at Magnai's shoulders to bring himself closer and press their lips together. The first kiss they had shared had been wild and laced with desperation. After it, Hien had genuinely wondered if it was customary to kiss your lovers at all in the culture of the Steppe, but he wasn't sure he cared or minded much. This one was different, warm and trembling and full of heat.
He rested the palms of his hands against Magnai's chest, trying to feel him beneath the layers of wool, fur, and leather.
Though the Oronir's silver-adorned horns framed his face almost dangerously, he did not fear to pull back. Hien only broke the kiss long enough to whisper against Magnai's lips.
"I want to feel you-- you and nothing else. Only skin... only scales." He simpered, with the smallest hint of his usual wit.
Before it had felt a bit like Magnai had stayed mostly clothed as a way to maintain power over Hien and that was a matter of his own lack of confidence.
"The Sun acquiesces to your request," He responded, voice low and husky.
"Bathe me in your light." For once, Hien's use of the flowery titles that Magnai favored didn't seem mocking, but as if it were a genuine offering of worship. The sincerity paired with the words themselves made Magnai shudder visibly, and he immediately went to work untying and unfastening the heavy robes he wore.
Hien joined him, blow-for-blow peeling out of his own robe and light armor beneath it so that they would be completely bare to each others' eyes. It was really only a few moments before the only thing cloaking Hien from sight was the length of his near waist-length hair and the moonlight he had managed to stand under.
His eyes busied themselves with unraveling the full sight before him from the moment that Magnai was down to just a fur-lined robe that he slipped out of easily. The patches of scales that adorned his body shone like obsidian, as though he were dripping with dark jewels. Hien moved forward and ran his fingers over the ones that ran along the outside of his hips.
The thrill that came with the first encounter was still there, but it was different this time: everything felt more focused. Magnai took the closeness as an excuse to lean in and lift Hien off of his feet, giving a graceful, albeit rather saccharine half-twirl.
He placed him gently back on his feet a little further into the room, nudging the prince towards his bedroll. Hien took the hint and obliged, sinking down into the soft furs upon his knees, waiting to see what it was specifically that Magnai wanted. He was waiting for a sign of that previous aggression, but the only thing that came was in the form of Magnai also sinking to sit on his knees-- and then scooping Hien into his lap.
The only thing forceful about it was the grip of someone who was so obviously much larger than he was, and that was something that Hien found he rather enjoyed. It was hard for him to properly straddle the full span of the Khan's lap, and instead, he squirmed forward and wrapped his legs around his middle, pressing their groins together as he shifted. Magnai shivered and sucked in a breath, and Hien trailed his hands up his neck and then higher-- to let them dance along the elegant twin curves of his horns.
"You made such a mess last time, are you sure we ought to do this on your bed?" Hien asked playfully and got an annoyed snort in return.
"'Tis normal for our kind. I'd no idea that you Hyur were so.... dry." He sniped right back.
"Well, we Hyurs are simply not meant to go much more than once... at once." Hien offered in response, a bit bashful.
"Aye, that's unfortunate but not something that we must accept as a deficit," Magnai said cryptically.
Hien frowned, and Magnai fixed him with a lazy smile.
"Meaning?"
"You shall see. Your offering pleases the sun's radiance." A white flash of teeth and Magnai's hand slipped between them, lightly squeezing and tugging at the soft, warm skin hanging between Hien's thighs. He felt himself growing hard nearly immediately at the sensation and clung a little tighter to the Khan's shoulders.
"For all of your bluntness, you are-- a rather difficult man to understand." At that, Magnai only offered a rough laugh.
Watching Hien, Magnai's own erection slowly blossomed into view from where it was sheltered. Feeling the foreign but now familiar sensation of the ridges and bumps of his cock against his thigh had more of an effect on Hien than he thought it might. For a few blissful moments, Magnai pressed them together in one of his large hands and then drew back to reach into a small cabinet lined with shelves that served as a sideboard near his bed. Another vial of that same fragrant oil he'd had with him before was produced, and Hien wondered if it was used for sacred things usually-- and in a way, was this treated as such? Perhaps he meant it when he said he, as the proxy of Azim, accepted this as a tribute.
As the cool slickness spread between them, Hien took advantage of the dampened friction and rocked his hips to drag his own hardening cock along the ridges of Magnai's, shuddering and sucking in a hiss of breath.
Magnai's hand slid back between them and passed through some of the oil that had puddled on the prince's thigh. He then shifted to reach under him and prodded his entrance with a slicked finger. Usually, Hien liked to be in control of his preparation but in this case... he'd allow an exception. He wanted to show the Khan that he trusted him just as he had asked for his trust before.
At first, he thought that was all it was, but when Magnai's fingers curled inside of him, searching until they found that spot to press against, he realized he may have been mistaken. He closed his eyes, given over fully to the sensation. A low groan escaped him as Magnai's other hand began to stroke him, the in-tandem stimulation making him twitch in the Khan's grasp.
"If only you could see yourself, you are positively radiant."
Hien felt as though this was the first time he'd ever heard Magnai use that sort of terminology on him or anyone aside from himself. It made a wealth of warmth well up in him and he leaned forward to kiss and bite at Magnai's collarbone, dragging his tongue along the delicate scales on his neck and chest.
His appreciation was shown by a stuttered gasp that rumbled in his lover's chest. A few moments later, Magnai removed his fingers and nudged Hien up to position himself at his entrance. The prince let out a low snarl and a hiss, gently trying to wrestle a bit of control back into his own hands. He rocked forward and slid slowly down over the narrow tip-- much more forgiving in its shape for this than a Hyur's dick of comparable size (as if that existed, ha--)
Hien's eyes fluttered shut again as he let the piked tip stretch him open, though he had to focus on staying relaxed around the bumps and ridges. It was pure ecstasy to him now for the second time, when at first he had been a bit unsure as to what he was doing. The nerves that came with a first-time encounter had mostly melted away, and he was able to seat Magnai in himself nearly completely with little trouble. Always, the Khan was patient with him, waiting for his lead before he dared to start moving.
"The way you feel-- you are bliss," He breathed softly and took a few moments to simply hover there, absorbing the sensation of Magnai filling him up.
It was true that he knew this may be the last time they saw each other outside of on the battlefield-- at least for a long time. He hadn't thought he'd grown to be so attached to him or where the attraction was seated but. It was a terrible time to think of such things, and somewhere in the moment, he'd been swept away.
Magnai's hand moving over him with such slick grace that he was suddenly right at the edge and he bit down on his bottom lip, cursing and spluttering a stuttered warning.
The moment he did, Magnai stopped touching him suddenly only to tightly grip the base of his cock. He watched Hien twitch, squirm, and gasp as he writhed with a wicked smirk, reveling in the control he felt at denying the man his orgasm.
"Kami spare me," He spluttered, hazel gaze still glassy but now more sharply focused as he looked up at the Khan.
"You will only have this ecstasy at my command." He answered that searching gaze playfully.
It dawned on Hien then what he meant and his head swam. The first time, Magnai had managed to wring a second orgasm out of him out of sheer stubbornness-- and now he was going to deny him altogether?
Only when he was sure that the build-up had receded did the Khan release his grip, running his fingertips over the shaft of Hien's dick with a frustrating tenderness that made him twitch before he gripped his hips and began to fuck into him so hard that he saw stars. A keening cry that was more of a howl left him as he found himself bearing down, clinging to and scratching at Magnai's shoulders for purchase.
The room had grown rather stuffy, and Hien's long hair was clinging to his face and shoulders as sweat glistened on his skin. Overstimulated and completely out of space and time for a few moments, the only relief from the onslaught was when Magnai froze suddenly, buried to the hilt as he poured his first orgasm into Hien with a snarled grunt. The thought of it-- the memory of just how much cum had been involved in their first encounter had the prince squirming on his cock a moment later.
A low chuckle, cocky and more than a little pleased with himself left Magnai as he shifted forward, nudging Hien onto his back as he shifted position.
He returned his tight grip to the base of his cock and began to thrust once more, abusing that overly sensitive bundle of nerves inside of Hien until he was gasping for breath, tears collecting in his eyes and precum dribbling onto his stomach from the stimulation. Now, he clawed at the furs beneath him as he became aware of Magnai's first orgasm starting to run out of him, making their movements even slicker, and the Khan paused again with gritted teeth to release once more. He bent low over his lover's prone form, the sun-bleached yellow braids he wore in the front swinging down to tickle Hien's cheeks.
Again, he began his pace but much slower this time-- and Hien shook with the need for release. His mouth was dry, his hair beginning to tangle messily at the back of his head and base of his neck. Magnai watched him with heavily hooded eyes that could take anyone's breath away with their luminescence. His sunlight-through-a-glass-of-whiskey gaze traced the roping of scars that littered Hien's form, the flex and stretch of his muscles. He cursed and lifted the prince's leg, bringing his thigh to press against his hip and the shift in tension drew a sharp curse from the Khan and another wave of hot cum.
"Had enough yet?" Hien managed, though his voice was weak and raw.
"Do not test me, Doman," Magnai responded in turn.
Hien thought that perhaps he was beginning to tire when the Khan pulled out of him abruptly. The emptiness and the slickness of the Auri man's seed flowing from inside of him made him squirm-- but Magnai only grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled-- urging him to turn over.
The prince's limbs wobbled and shook, hardly enough to hold him up in a proper hands-and-knees position-- but it didn't seem to bother Magnai, caught up in a near fury of need as he was. He simply gripped Hien's hips and lifted him, propped up on his knees as he plunged back inside. When Magnai began to lose control of his voice, his stoic demeanor long gone, Hien was sure he was going to cum just from the sheer thrill of hearing his moans and sighs-- but with his hand gripping him like that he just couldn't.
Nearly sobbing from the sheer euphoria, Hien babbled a mess of sweet nothings and promises that became pleas.
"What about now, Doman? Now will you pledge to me your body and soul?"
Kami strike him down, he could barely stand the idea of relinquishing his pride but in the moment it hardly felt like it mattered.
"Yes, yes, Magnai-- anything. Anything you want. I am yours just let me... let me cum, I can't go on,"
And he relinquished his grip, though he cupped Hien's cock as though to catch the result of the massive orgasm that shook him, leaving the prince wailing and sobbing into the pillows for several long moments as he rode it out, thrusting weakly into the Khan's eager hand.
Hien all but collapsed, flopping onto his back as Magnai pulled out only to prop himself over the prince's heaving chest as he stroked his own dick.
Watching, enraptured, as the Khan's hand moved over the dusky rose of his hard cock and all of its ridges, he did not shy away from the sudden flood of warmth that splattered his chest and face.
When he was finished (or as finished as any Auri man could be) Magnai slid down onto his side, ignoring the sticky mess as he pulled Hien into his arms. He showered his face with kisses, occasionally licking at the mess he'd left there as though he felt apologetic and meant to clean it away. For several long moments, Hien merely trembled in the Khan's arms, trying to catch his breath.
"You will keep your word, yes?" Magnai's voice came tight and strained as though he had simply snapped back to the mindset he'd been in before-- on the verge of tears.
Hien's mind sluggishly worked at what was being asked of him, and if it was possible he flushed a deeper pink as he worked out his response.
"Kami--" he breathed, dipping his head to rest against Magnai's broad chest.
He could not on his honor take back what he had said. "I am no craven who does not keep his word. You know this. But I must complete my duty to Doma first. Then, only when Doma is free, may I begin to.... to acquiesce to your request."
Magnai was quiet for some moments but he eventually accepted this, lowering his gaze. He wound his hands through the sweaty mess of Hien's hair and brought a handful of it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to it.
"I will fight beside you. I will deliver your homeland to you. And then, you will be free... to. To be mine." Hien let out a tired laugh in response when he repeated the vow he had made earlier that day--
The way Magnai looked as he spoke with such confidence, such sincerity was almost... childlike in its innocence. Hien smiled and turned to press a kiss to the flat of the tip of the Auri man's horn.
"That is a lofty promise. I think that if you are to manage such a thing, you will have earned my hand fair and square."
"I will hold you to it, Hien." He couldn't remember Magnai ever addressing him by his name before-- though maybe it had slipped out and he'd missed it? No matter: This had a weight to it that made him roll it around inside of his head for a few moments before he dared speak.
"I should go,"
"Don't. I'll make an excuse. Pray let me have until sunrise." Magnai's voice was so earnest, so wounded that he couldn't bring himself to say no-- not that he wanted to at all.
Hien let out a hum as though to answer and hid his face against the Oronir's chest once more.
"Am I still of the Earth? Will I ever be beneath you in your eyes, child of Azim?" There was a hint of pain in Hien's tone when he spoke.
"Does not the sun deign to give its warmth to the Earth?" Magnai gently brushed his fingertips through the short, dark, hair that framed Hien's face.
"So it does." He would have to think upon the meaning of the answer but-- sleep was taking him. Hopefully, he would awaken in time for a bath, or it would be difficult to explain the state he was in.
There, with his ear pressed against Magnai's heartbeat, the prince of Doma drifted into a heavy slumber, wishing that he could put off the next day and freeze the moon in the sky for all time.