[werewolf AU] homeward bound

[tiltingwithlips]

The coronation is done -- and quite an event that was -- and true to his word, the new king Henry, the fifth of that name, provided all that the Percys needed for their journey north. In truth, they needed little; they came from Warkworth with hardly anything in tow, and return the same way.

But they do carry with them the security of the King's pardon, intangible (and if Kate is honest with herself, still somewhat dubious. Henry is sincere in wishing them to be allies, she is certain, but his subjects may not forgive so easily).

It's a few days ride to Warkworth. Kate has spent much of it in thoughtful silence. As they ride up to the castle gate, though, she lets out an audible sigh of relief.

Comments

[tiltingwithlips]

"Nay, promise no more than that thou canst give." She tips her head back, baring her throat. "But promise all thou canst and I'll promise thee the same."

[valiantrebel]

"Anything." A slow line of kisses over her throat. "Deed -- or breath -- or act -- 'tis thine." One finger lingers over the soft skin at her clavicle.

[tiltingwithlips]

One long, slow inhale, and a long sigh to match it.

She's had her fill of taking charge and wrestling for control, for the nonce. They're home and pardoned and safe, with no stripling king to teach or fight or worry over; she may lead or follow as she wishes and stop worrying about the consequences.

[valiantrebel]

Harry brings his mouth back to hers. Being here gives him patience. He can run his hands down over her sides, over her curves, under her thighs, and he can lift her up to his hips with hardly a break in his kisses.

[tiltingwithlips]

Kate laughs, delighted, and wraps her arms around his neck.

[valiantrebel]

The bed is just there, but no need to put her down yet.

No need for so much clothing either, now that they're here. He pulls down the neck of her dress, not enough to ruin it, but certainly enough to expose unkissed skin.

[tiltingwithlips]

Sighing, she presses a kiss to his temple.

[valiantrebel]

He lets himself be kissed. The hand at her breast splays out; he presses his fingertips into her skin, feels her warmth, her solidness.

He takes his lips to her collarbone, and the space just beneath it.

[tiltingwithlips]

Her breath catches softly, goes out in another sigh that's just this side of a moan.

[valiantrebel]

He lifts his face to hers, eye to eye. Without looking away, he skims his fingertips over her face, along the lines of her cheekbones, across her lips.

[tiltingwithlips]

She closes her eyes, and her lips part as she inhales.

(She can't stop smiling when he touches her.)

[valiantrebel]

His own eyes light up. Before she can open hers, he moves in to kiss her again -- and to cross the space between here and the bed, so he might tip them both onto the sheets.

[tiltingwithlips]

Kate opens her eyes with a startled laugh as she lands on top of him.

"Harry!"

[valiantrebel]

"Ah! My poor arms!" He runs his hands over her hips, grinning. "Have pity, if thou wilt not have mercy."

[tiltingwithlips]

"I may be merciful," she allows, cupping his face in her hands.

[valiantrebel]

"Wilt thou?" He pulls at her skirts, bunching them up so he might rub the backs of her thighs. "Even now?"

[tiltingwithlips]

Smirking, she leans down and kisses him again, long and warm.

Merciful enough?

[valiantrebel]

Not in the slightest, judging from the stiffness between his legs.

Kisses may be both slow and hungry. And, because it's Harry, he cannot keep from threading his fingers through her hair.

[tiltingwithlips]

She shudders happily, shifting on top of him.

One of her hands trails down his chest and belly and slips up under the hem of his shirt. Her fingers are warm against his skin.

[valiantrebel]

Warm and soft, for all they've been running these several months past. He shifts where she touches him, his every nerve feeling more. Small, deep noises start to rumble in his throat.

[tiltingwithlips]

Chuckling again, she slides off to curl up at his side, still kissing him.

With a little more room to maneuver, she slides her hand down to palm him through his breeches.

[valiantrebel]

"Fie, my love!" He sighs and shakes his head. "Where didst thou learn of mercy? I'll have words with thy tutor."

If he's not too distracted by her shoulder and neck, that is.

[tiltingwithlips]

"My tutor?" She snorts. "Ask of thyself, then."

[valiantrebel]

"Justice, then? I am schooled. So to my sentence!"

[tiltingwithlips]

"Peace, love, I'll stop thy mouth."

And indeed she does!