<a href= https://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?326106-War%92s-End-The-King-of-Traitors-Part-1-(F-M)&>Part 1 (F/M)</a>
<a href= https://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?326144-War%92s-End-The-King-of-Traitors-Part-2-(F-M)>Part 2 (F/M)</a>
“I’m saying,” David began, “that it’s been a day and a half and no one’s heard from him. We need to send a search party now.”
“I have to agree.” General Cilen paced around the war room, twisting a wooden pointer between her fingers. “I’m concerned about the troops.”
David looked up from the chart in front of him, his overgrown blonde hair falling into his warm brown eyes. “What about the troops?”
She toyed with the pointer. “They may try another mutiny.”
“No, they won’t. I’ll never let them.”
“Very well. I’m just concerned. The resistance—”
“I told you, General, a group of farmers with pitchforks is not a resistance.”
“I assure you, it wasn’t farmers who assaulted two battalions and chased them out of Katas.”
He stared. “What?”
“We just received word last night.” Cilen rapped the map on the chalkboard with her pointer. “I think we’ve lost Katas.”
“To what?” David stood. “I was just there! There wasn’t anything fucking wrong! Now Sam’s missing and fifty soldiers lost control of an entire city?”
“Please remember, Highness, that Luim escaped the castle during the Cerces invasion. He’s a captain of the guard, and I’m sure some soldiers choose to follow him over Samuel and I.”
“He’s an ex-captain of the guard,” David corrected, “and Elana’s the queen of Astal. I’m not going to let anything— or anyone— take that from her.” He leaned against the conference table. The lantern at its center, the room’s only light, wobbled and threw their shadows in wild directions.
“I suspect the resistance is trying to restart Katas’ gladiator circuit,” Cilen added.
David glanced back. “There aren’t any more gladiator circuits. They’re banned.”
“And that upset a lot of people, sir. I have no doubt Luim’s being funded by the merchants who used to run the circuit.”
“You’re kidding me. Those sick fucks.” No wonder Samuel left. And no wonder he didn’t tell David where he was going, either. The mere thought of a new gladiator circuit sent David’s blood boiling. “Katas, right?”
“Sir, you can’t be thinking of going there.” Cilen grabbed his sleeve. “A troop of fifty soldiers were pushed back from the old Katas arena. What are you planning on doing?”
“Those fifty soldiers aren’t me.” David shook her off.
She faltered. “David, please be sensible. You’re not super-human. At least discuss this with militia leaders.”
“There aren’t any—” He turned as she pointed over his shoulder. A handful of soldiers had filed in, some he recognized, some he didn’t.
Yesmir, another friend from the gladiator circuits, looked completely alien in polished palace guard armor. The look on her face was familiar, though. “Are you kidding me, David? I keep telling you not to pull stupid shit like this.”
“Y-Yesmir, you have t-to understand—”
“I do understand. This is Sam we’re talking about here. The thing is, if he can’t handle it, what on gods’ earth makes you think you can?”
“I’m just as capable as him.”
Yesmir arched an eyebrow.
“Fine!” He threw up his hands. “What’s your plan, then?”
“We go to Katas. As a team. I think there’s something much worse brewing than some disgruntled elitist prick trying to reopen his gladiator circuit.” She glanced back at the guards around her. “Someone has to stay behind to keep everything in check, though.”
“I’m sure the general has it covered.” David nodded at Cilen.
“Wait, her?” A man stepped to Yesmir’s side, pointing a shaking finger. “No way in hell! She’s a traitor!”
David frowned. “If you mean she went up against Taria, then yes, she is a traitor. You fought the illegitimate queen too, right?”
He bristled. “I followed you!”
“I’m literally the fucking king of traitors!” David looked to the other soldiers. “I want to make this clear. Anyone who <i>looks</i> at General Cilen the wrong way answers to me. Understand?”
They nodded as one, wide-eyed.
“Okay.” David turned back to Cilen. “I think we’re going to set out toward Katas this evening and ride overnight. You’re in charge while we’re gone.” He paused. “That threat is real. Anyone bothers you, you tell me or Elana.”
“I know, sir.” She smiled. “After what happened a few weeks ago, I think everyone in the kingdom knows how you feel about me. I’m just worried about what’ll happen when you’re not around.”
“Then they’ll answer to Elana.” He shrugged. “Pick your soldiers and get your things in order. We ride at sundown.”
As the last of the group cleared out of the war room, David sighed and adjusted the collar of his wrinkled shirt. His bad shoulder ached, still sore from the night prior. He needed to ask for Elana’s help.
Cilen stepped up behind him. “You need to get your things in order, too.”
“What?”
“Her Highness has no idea what you’re planning, right?” She smirked. “You should go get her permission. I doubt she’ll let you.”
He jerked straight. “I don’t have to ask for permission from anyone. I’m king.”
“Of course, sir.” She smiled. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“I’m counting on it.” David stalked out of the war room, cursing under his breath. Elana would never let him go on the mission. But he had to find some way of getting around her.
He was a leader. Maybe confidence was the way to go.
David traded nods with Aldien, then threw open the door to his and Elana’s bedchambers. The princess was sitting at her vanity and turned as he stepped inside. He tried to construct some sort of assertive facade; a lost cause, given his rumpled clothes and upended blonde hair. “We’ve gotten word where Sam could be. Tonight I’m riding out to Katas with Yesmir and a battalion to see if we can find him.”
Elana dropped her hairbrush. “You’re joking.”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
She stood, and in the back of his mind he registered the click of Aldien closing the door behind him. Elana radiated elegance and strength, and he struggled not to simply duck out of the way as she approached. “You’re a king, David. It’s one thing to ride all over Astal attending annexations. It’s completely different if you’re leading a charge into a city.”
“Katas has been annexed already—”
“I don’t care about technicalities, David. You represent your kingdom, not a raiding party.” She set a hand on his chest, and with a flick of her wrist she sent him staggering back toward a plush, over-padded chair by the closet. He glanced back, swallowing heavily, but before he could gather himself, she pushed him back again and he fell into the chair. As he glanced around in a panic, she caught his arms and brought them to a set of shackles over his head. David jerked, but the fur-lined cuffs had already closed over his wrists. He squeezed his eyes shut and let his head droop. Elana had no difficulty pulling off his boots, tossing them aside, and setting his ankles in the stocks in front of the chair.
There was already a cuff around his left leg, and she ran her fingers across its metal before locking the stocks. She tied his toes back with ease, testing the lengths of soft leather. “Okay, rebel, this isn’t the time to run off playing hero. We need to keep a united front. Astal won’t follow you. Cerces won’t follow me. The only way we’ll get anything done is if we do it together.”
“You don’t understand, Princess.” He shook his head, flinching as she set her fingers on the sole of his foot. “I need to. It’s Sam.”
“It doesn’t matter who it is. You can’t go out on your own.”
“I won’t be alone—”
“You know what I mean, rebel. You’re not some renegade hero anymore. You’re a king. You can’t leave your kingdom.” Her voice broke. “You can’t leave me.”
David sighed. Of course. “Princess, I promise I’ll—”
“Promise you won’t go.”
“I won’t do that.”
“You will!”
David’s eyes bugged as Elana dug her nails into his arches, and he lunged as best he could before squealing like a pig. He couldn’t so much as get his breath back before she started scratching between his big and first toes.
<i>“NAHAHA! PRINCEHEHESS! STAP!” </i> He banged his head against the chair’s back, fighting with its heavy wood frame. Elana glanced up, but went back to her work, drawing wiggling worms over the soles of his feet.
<i>“Elanahahaha! I-hi mehehehean it! Sta-HAP!” </i>His laugh peaked, but again, Elana hardly glanced at him.
“Promise me you won’t go.”
<i>“NOHOHOHO!”</i>
At last Elana stood, but instead of coming around to undo the shackles holding his arms over his head, she reached over his lap and belted him to the chair with another unyielding silk scarf. David’s blood ran cold as she crossed the room toward the bed, knelt on the plush carpet, and drew out a wooden crate. He couldn’t quite see its contents, but every time she brought it out, it contained some new array of oils, soaps, brushes, and tools for her to torment him with.
Elana lugged the crate over, and it landed on the hardwood under the stocks with a resounding thud. David shook his head as Elana drew out bottle after bottle and set them on top of the stocks. He struggled, yanking at the shackles. “Elana, no. I don’t care what you do to me, I’m going to go find my best friend.”
Elana’s scowl deepened; he’d never seen her like that. She ignored the torture instruments she’d already set out and dug into the crate with a rattle of glass on wood. “Alright, rebel, you’ve asked for this. I was saving it for a special occasion, too.” She stood, holding a glass jar full of calligraphy brushes. “Just like this one.”
“No, Princess.” David’s voice cracked, and he fought his bonds with renewed vigor. “No!”
Elana poured a bit of rose oil into a bowl and set it on the carpet beside her. She settled on her haunches, picked a brush that gave under her fingertips, and eyed up David’s immobilized feet. After a heart-pounding moment, the cold, oily brush hit his arch.
He screamed, one that broke as it soared in pitch and ventured into something inaudible. He sucked in a breath, but immediately lost it again as Elana slowly dragged the bristles down his arch, outlining where it met his instep. His real laugh started again as Elana paused, but he heard the clink of the brush handle on ceramic and the torture device met his foot again, rewettened. He doubled over, gasping and heaving; the brush journeyed up to the base of his toes, underscoring the undersides of his toe pads and sliding across their webbing. He still fought, but Elana gathered herself, the brushes, and the bowl and made her way to his torso. David gibbered something, but she simply opened his dress shirt again. Somewhere in his desperate gasping, David cursed as she exposed the silver scar that wrapped around his left side and navel. His thin muscles rippled, but the shackles didn’t loosen, and he flinched as Elana rubbed a thumb against the scar. It wasn’t enough to tickle, but it was plenty to make him jump.
“Promise me you won’t go.”
David shook his head.
“Don’t say I didn’t give you a chance.” Elana dunked her brush in the oil and drove it into his belly button.
He kept wheezing as she continued, highlighting the little dents in his skin where the gravel had cut into him. She hardly got halfway through his scar before he slumped in his bonds.
“Rebel?” She stood. “David, are you okay?”
David didn’t move, and Elana came around behind him and released his shackles. He was entirely limp, and folded over the second the chains stopped supporting him. Elana undid the belt holding him to the chair, loosened the toe ties, and opened the stocks, propping him back up.
“I’m sorry, rebel.” Tears streaked down Elana’s face. “But if this is the only way I can keep you from killing yourself, so be it.” She paused. “I can’t do this without you.”
Elana hefted him into her arms, his weight so familiar she hardly strained to get him across the room and onto the bed. He was still a rag doll, but he would be fine the day after.
She crawled up beside him, burying her nose in his sweaty hair and throwing an arm over his exposed, oily belly. “It’s for your own good. I love you.”
<a href= https://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?326144-War%92s-End-The-King-of-Traitors-Part-2-(F-M)>Part 2 (F/M)</a>
“I’m saying,” David began, “that it’s been a day and a half and no one’s heard from him. We need to send a search party now.”
“I have to agree.” General Cilen paced around the war room, twisting a wooden pointer between her fingers. “I’m concerned about the troops.”
David looked up from the chart in front of him, his overgrown blonde hair falling into his warm brown eyes. “What about the troops?”
She toyed with the pointer. “They may try another mutiny.”
“No, they won’t. I’ll never let them.”
“Very well. I’m just concerned. The resistance—”
“I told you, General, a group of farmers with pitchforks is not a resistance.”
“I assure you, it wasn’t farmers who assaulted two battalions and chased them out of Katas.”
He stared. “What?”
“We just received word last night.” Cilen rapped the map on the chalkboard with her pointer. “I think we’ve lost Katas.”
“To what?” David stood. “I was just there! There wasn’t anything fucking wrong! Now Sam’s missing and fifty soldiers lost control of an entire city?”
“Please remember, Highness, that Luim escaped the castle during the Cerces invasion. He’s a captain of the guard, and I’m sure some soldiers choose to follow him over Samuel and I.”
“He’s an ex-captain of the guard,” David corrected, “and Elana’s the queen of Astal. I’m not going to let anything— or anyone— take that from her.” He leaned against the conference table. The lantern at its center, the room’s only light, wobbled and threw their shadows in wild directions.
“I suspect the resistance is trying to restart Katas’ gladiator circuit,” Cilen added.
David glanced back. “There aren’t any more gladiator circuits. They’re banned.”
“And that upset a lot of people, sir. I have no doubt Luim’s being funded by the merchants who used to run the circuit.”
“You’re kidding me. Those sick fucks.” No wonder Samuel left. And no wonder he didn’t tell David where he was going, either. The mere thought of a new gladiator circuit sent David’s blood boiling. “Katas, right?”
“Sir, you can’t be thinking of going there.” Cilen grabbed his sleeve. “A troop of fifty soldiers were pushed back from the old Katas arena. What are you planning on doing?”
“Those fifty soldiers aren’t me.” David shook her off.
She faltered. “David, please be sensible. You’re not super-human. At least discuss this with militia leaders.”
“There aren’t any—” He turned as she pointed over his shoulder. A handful of soldiers had filed in, some he recognized, some he didn’t.
Yesmir, another friend from the gladiator circuits, looked completely alien in polished palace guard armor. The look on her face was familiar, though. “Are you kidding me, David? I keep telling you not to pull stupid shit like this.”
“Y-Yesmir, you have t-to understand—”
“I do understand. This is Sam we’re talking about here. The thing is, if he can’t handle it, what on gods’ earth makes you think you can?”
“I’m just as capable as him.”
Yesmir arched an eyebrow.
“Fine!” He threw up his hands. “What’s your plan, then?”
“We go to Katas. As a team. I think there’s something much worse brewing than some disgruntled elitist prick trying to reopen his gladiator circuit.” She glanced back at the guards around her. “Someone has to stay behind to keep everything in check, though.”
“I’m sure the general has it covered.” David nodded at Cilen.
“Wait, her?” A man stepped to Yesmir’s side, pointing a shaking finger. “No way in hell! She’s a traitor!”
David frowned. “If you mean she went up against Taria, then yes, she is a traitor. You fought the illegitimate queen too, right?”
He bristled. “I followed you!”
“I’m literally the fucking king of traitors!” David looked to the other soldiers. “I want to make this clear. Anyone who <i>looks</i> at General Cilen the wrong way answers to me. Understand?”
They nodded as one, wide-eyed.
“Okay.” David turned back to Cilen. “I think we’re going to set out toward Katas this evening and ride overnight. You’re in charge while we’re gone.” He paused. “That threat is real. Anyone bothers you, you tell me or Elana.”
“I know, sir.” She smiled. “After what happened a few weeks ago, I think everyone in the kingdom knows how you feel about me. I’m just worried about what’ll happen when you’re not around.”
“Then they’ll answer to Elana.” He shrugged. “Pick your soldiers and get your things in order. We ride at sundown.”
As the last of the group cleared out of the war room, David sighed and adjusted the collar of his wrinkled shirt. His bad shoulder ached, still sore from the night prior. He needed to ask for Elana’s help.
Cilen stepped up behind him. “You need to get your things in order, too.”
“What?”
“Her Highness has no idea what you’re planning, right?” She smirked. “You should go get her permission. I doubt she’ll let you.”
He jerked straight. “I don’t have to ask for permission from anyone. I’m king.”
“Of course, sir.” She smiled. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“I’m counting on it.” David stalked out of the war room, cursing under his breath. Elana would never let him go on the mission. But he had to find some way of getting around her.
He was a leader. Maybe confidence was the way to go.
David traded nods with Aldien, then threw open the door to his and Elana’s bedchambers. The princess was sitting at her vanity and turned as he stepped inside. He tried to construct some sort of assertive facade; a lost cause, given his rumpled clothes and upended blonde hair. “We’ve gotten word where Sam could be. Tonight I’m riding out to Katas with Yesmir and a battalion to see if we can find him.”
Elana dropped her hairbrush. “You’re joking.”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
She stood, and in the back of his mind he registered the click of Aldien closing the door behind him. Elana radiated elegance and strength, and he struggled not to simply duck out of the way as she approached. “You’re a king, David. It’s one thing to ride all over Astal attending annexations. It’s completely different if you’re leading a charge into a city.”
“Katas has been annexed already—”
“I don’t care about technicalities, David. You represent your kingdom, not a raiding party.” She set a hand on his chest, and with a flick of her wrist she sent him staggering back toward a plush, over-padded chair by the closet. He glanced back, swallowing heavily, but before he could gather himself, she pushed him back again and he fell into the chair. As he glanced around in a panic, she caught his arms and brought them to a set of shackles over his head. David jerked, but the fur-lined cuffs had already closed over his wrists. He squeezed his eyes shut and let his head droop. Elana had no difficulty pulling off his boots, tossing them aside, and setting his ankles in the stocks in front of the chair.
There was already a cuff around his left leg, and she ran her fingers across its metal before locking the stocks. She tied his toes back with ease, testing the lengths of soft leather. “Okay, rebel, this isn’t the time to run off playing hero. We need to keep a united front. Astal won’t follow you. Cerces won’t follow me. The only way we’ll get anything done is if we do it together.”
“You don’t understand, Princess.” He shook his head, flinching as she set her fingers on the sole of his foot. “I need to. It’s Sam.”
“It doesn’t matter who it is. You can’t go out on your own.”
“I won’t be alone—”
“You know what I mean, rebel. You’re not some renegade hero anymore. You’re a king. You can’t leave your kingdom.” Her voice broke. “You can’t leave me.”
David sighed. Of course. “Princess, I promise I’ll—”
“Promise you won’t go.”
“I won’t do that.”
“You will!”
David’s eyes bugged as Elana dug her nails into his arches, and he lunged as best he could before squealing like a pig. He couldn’t so much as get his breath back before she started scratching between his big and first toes.
<i>“NAHAHA! PRINCEHEHESS! STAP!” </i> He banged his head against the chair’s back, fighting with its heavy wood frame. Elana glanced up, but went back to her work, drawing wiggling worms over the soles of his feet.
<i>“Elanahahaha! I-hi mehehehean it! Sta-HAP!” </i>His laugh peaked, but again, Elana hardly glanced at him.
“Promise me you won’t go.”
<i>“NOHOHOHO!”</i>
At last Elana stood, but instead of coming around to undo the shackles holding his arms over his head, she reached over his lap and belted him to the chair with another unyielding silk scarf. David’s blood ran cold as she crossed the room toward the bed, knelt on the plush carpet, and drew out a wooden crate. He couldn’t quite see its contents, but every time she brought it out, it contained some new array of oils, soaps, brushes, and tools for her to torment him with.
Elana lugged the crate over, and it landed on the hardwood under the stocks with a resounding thud. David shook his head as Elana drew out bottle after bottle and set them on top of the stocks. He struggled, yanking at the shackles. “Elana, no. I don’t care what you do to me, I’m going to go find my best friend.”
Elana’s scowl deepened; he’d never seen her like that. She ignored the torture instruments she’d already set out and dug into the crate with a rattle of glass on wood. “Alright, rebel, you’ve asked for this. I was saving it for a special occasion, too.” She stood, holding a glass jar full of calligraphy brushes. “Just like this one.”
“No, Princess.” David’s voice cracked, and he fought his bonds with renewed vigor. “No!”
Elana poured a bit of rose oil into a bowl and set it on the carpet beside her. She settled on her haunches, picked a brush that gave under her fingertips, and eyed up David’s immobilized feet. After a heart-pounding moment, the cold, oily brush hit his arch.
He screamed, one that broke as it soared in pitch and ventured into something inaudible. He sucked in a breath, but immediately lost it again as Elana slowly dragged the bristles down his arch, outlining where it met his instep. His real laugh started again as Elana paused, but he heard the clink of the brush handle on ceramic and the torture device met his foot again, rewettened. He doubled over, gasping and heaving; the brush journeyed up to the base of his toes, underscoring the undersides of his toe pads and sliding across their webbing. He still fought, but Elana gathered herself, the brushes, and the bowl and made her way to his torso. David gibbered something, but she simply opened his dress shirt again. Somewhere in his desperate gasping, David cursed as she exposed the silver scar that wrapped around his left side and navel. His thin muscles rippled, but the shackles didn’t loosen, and he flinched as Elana rubbed a thumb against the scar. It wasn’t enough to tickle, but it was plenty to make him jump.
“Promise me you won’t go.”
David shook his head.
“Don’t say I didn’t give you a chance.” Elana dunked her brush in the oil and drove it into his belly button.
He kept wheezing as she continued, highlighting the little dents in his skin where the gravel had cut into him. She hardly got halfway through his scar before he slumped in his bonds.
“Rebel?” She stood. “David, are you okay?”
David didn’t move, and Elana came around behind him and released his shackles. He was entirely limp, and folded over the second the chains stopped supporting him. Elana undid the belt holding him to the chair, loosened the toe ties, and opened the stocks, propping him back up.
“I’m sorry, rebel.” Tears streaked down Elana’s face. “But if this is the only way I can keep you from killing yourself, so be it.” She paused. “I can’t do this without you.”
Elana hefted him into her arms, his weight so familiar she hardly strained to get him across the room and onto the bed. He was still a rag doll, but he would be fine the day after.
She crawled up beside him, burying her nose in his sweaty hair and throwing an arm over his exposed, oily belly. “It’s for your own good. I love you.”
