New #RueLouPrompts!
— ske-LOU-ton □ □ NOT QUITE OUT (@lw_writes) October 16, 2020
"A single seed"
□Deadline 29th October
□<500 words of flash fiction inspired by the prompt
□Tag me and/or @sparks_writes so we can see and share it!
A single seed by Maxime Jaz©
“You summoned me, My Liege?”
Yorrick’s stomach clenched at that familiar deep voice, his eyes on the stretching landscape, not daring to turn yet to face him. “Yes. And drop the ceremonial crap when we are alone.” That slight anger simmering gave him enough courage to turn, to face the man’s slightly puzzled look, just a hint of mild despair in his blue eyes verging on grey.
He watched him swallow, straighten a bit. “What can I do for you, Yorrick?”
Yorrick’s lips curled up, hiding behind a mocking tone. “There are many things you could do for me but we both know they are not on the menu anymore.” He walked closer, daring to close that gap between them, raising his eyes to the tall knight. “I need you to do me a favor.”
The man raised a questioning eyebrow, his face softening as Yorrick got closer, the younger man’s eyes burning. “You know that I am childless, after all these years of marriage, and it is close to a disaster for our kingdom. So, I thought a lot about what I could do to remedy to this, and this is where you come into the picture.”
“Me?”
“Yes, Tristan. You.” His tone had hardened, so Tristan kept quiet, despite his rushing heart, trying to find the man behind the king. “I need an heir and I am seedless, or so it seems, despite trying, as you can imagine, to plant a child into my wife’s womb.” He turned and walked to the window, and Tristan followed to hear what he had to say. His hazel eyes on the landscape. “I want you to make a child to my wife.”
Tristan’s breath caught, thinking he had heard it wrong, an icy veil wrapping his chest which had become too tight. “What?”
Yorrick turned to him. “You heard it right. Make a child to my wife and an heir to this kingdom.” He smiled mockingly. “It’s not like it’s going to be difficult for you. How many children do you have?”
“Four…”
“You see? Nothing to worry about. All I’m asking of you is one single seed which will bloom into a child.”
“But… how? I would have to sleep with your wife…”, even as the words came out, he couldn’t believe he had said them, bathing in shock, his feelings battling his sense of duty.
“No, not sleep. We only meet for one night a week, and she waits for me in the dark, all ready. She won’t notice who takes her.”
Tristan’s face fell. “What… what kind of marriage is this?”
Yorrick walked up to him, his face bathing in anger. “A king’s marriage.” He watched Tristan, his shocked face drained of color, his black hair brushing his neck. He raised his hands and ran it in those silky strands, cupping Tristan’s face, his lips brushing his lips. “One single seed… is all I ask… save me… save your kingdom…” He parted his lips when they touched Tristan’s.
Tristan’s words like a breath. “No… don’t. Please…pl…” They got caught when Yorrick pressed his mouth against his, hard, their teeth clashing as Tristan opened up to him, to his warmth and taste, their arms finding the other’s back, shoulders, pressing closer as that burning kiss burst their chests apart.
It was Tristan who broke it, pushing him away, trembling. “No… we can’t…” He whirled, breathing hard, trying to tame that racing heart, his mounting tears which almost spilled out to Yorrick’s voice.
“Make me a child, Tristan.”
He turned to him, to his words which had made him all warm inside, and terrified him. Stepping close, his strong body towering over the young king. “This is not just any child. It will be my child. My child who won’t even know…”
“True. But raised as a king or queen with a most faithful knight to serve them. I will raise and love that child well because he or she will be yours.” He stepped closer. “Because I can’t have you… ever.”
Tristan turned to the window; his face bathed in pain. “Do not pick at scabbing wounds.”
Yorrick made him turn, his hand gripping his arm. “You seemed to have forgotten us quickly, with your wife pregnant all the time.”
Tristan shrugged, embarrassed a bit. “We warmed to each other eventually.” Yorrick scoffed and Tristan pleaded a bit. “You have no idea what you’re asking of me…”
“Nor do you…” A shadow of jealousy crossed those hazel eyes. “Knowing my wife will have you… when I wish it would be me.”
Tristan clenched his jaw. “Stop it… just stop… it is hard enough as it is.” He breathed out, hard, letting that warm breath melt the ice in his chest a bit. “Arrange a couple of nights… and let me know where I need to be.”
“You will do this for me?”
Tristan faced him, crossing his arms. “Yes.”
Yorrick walked close and put his hands on those bulging arms. “I will be forever grateful.”
It was Tristan who took pity on him, unfurling his arms. He pulled Yorrick in a strong embrace, his lips on his ear. “I have never wished for anything else than spending my life with you. Together. But you are king now. My king. And I will serve you until I die.” His arms tightened around Yorrick’s trembling body. “I love you and I will always love you. Just remember this.”
He let him go, abruptly, and stepped back, leaving so fast Yorrick had no time to come out of his shock. Just the silence of that vast room, the ghosts of his words ringing in his heart.
“You summoned me, My Liege?”
Yorrick’s stomach clenched at that familiar deep voice, his eyes on the stretching landscape, not daring to turn yet to face him. “Yes. And drop the ceremonial crap when we are alone.” That slight anger simmering gave him enough courage to turn, to face the man’s slightly puzzled look, just a hint of mild despair in his blue eyes verging on grey.
He watched him swallow, straighten a bit. “What can I do for you, Yorrick?”
Yorrick’s lips curled up, hiding behind a mocking tone. “There are many things you could do for me but we both know they are not on the menu anymore.” He walked closer, daring to close that gap between them, raising his eyes to the tall knight. “I need you to do me a favor.”
The man raised a questioning eyebrow, his face softening as Yorrick got closer, the younger man’s eyes burning. “You know that I am childless, after all these years of marriage, and it is close to a disaster for our kingdom. So, I thought a lot about what I could do to remedy to this, and this is where you come into the picture.”
“Me?”
“Yes, Tristan. You.” His tone had hardened, so Tristan kept quiet, despite his rushing heart, trying to find the man behind the king. “I need an heir and I am seedless, or so it seems, despite trying, as you can imagine, to plant a child into my wife’s womb.” He turned and walked to the window, and Tristan followed to hear what he had to say. His hazel eyes on the landscape. “I want you to make a child to my wife.”
Tristan’s breath caught, thinking he had heard it wrong, an icy veil wrapping his chest which had become too tight. “What?”
Yorrick turned to him. “You heard it right. Make a child to my wife and an heir to this kingdom.” He smiled mockingly. “It’s not like it’s going to be difficult for you. How many children do you have?”
“Four…”
“You see? Nothing to worry about. All I’m asking of you is one single seed which will bloom into a child.”
“But… how? I would have to sleep with your wife…”, even as the words came out, he couldn’t believe he had said them, bathing in shock, his feelings battling his sense of duty.
“No, not sleep. We only meet for one night a week, and she waits for me in the dark, all ready. She won’t notice who takes her.”
Tristan’s face fell. “What… what kind of marriage is this?”
Yorrick walked up to him, his face bathing in anger. “A king’s marriage.” He watched Tristan, his shocked face drained of color, his black hair brushing his neck. He raised his hands and ran it in those silky strands, cupping Tristan’s face, his lips brushing his lips. “One single seed… is all I ask… save me… save your kingdom…” He parted his lips when they touched Tristan’s.
Tristan’s words like a breath. “No… don’t. Please…pl…” They got caught when Yorrick pressed his mouth against his, hard, their teeth clashing as Tristan opened up to him, to his warmth and taste, their arms finding the other’s back, shoulders, pressing closer as that burning kiss burst their chests apart.
It was Tristan who broke it, pushing him away, trembling. “No… we can’t…” He whirled, breathing hard, trying to tame that racing heart, his mounting tears which almost spilled out to Yorrick’s voice.
“Make me a child, Tristan.”
He turned to him, to his words which had made him all warm inside, and terrified him. Stepping close, his strong body towering over the young king. “This is not just any child. It will be my child. My child who won’t even know…”
“True. But raised as a king or queen with a most faithful knight to serve them. I will raise and love that child well because he or she will be yours.” He stepped closer. “Because I can’t have you… ever.”
Tristan turned to the window; his face bathed in pain. “Do not pick at scabbing wounds.”
Yorrick made him turn, his hand gripping his arm. “You seemed to have forgotten us quickly, with your wife pregnant all the time.”
Tristan shrugged, embarrassed a bit. “We warmed to each other eventually.” Yorrick scoffed and Tristan pleaded a bit. “You have no idea what you’re asking of me…”
“Nor do you…” A shadow of jealousy crossed those hazel eyes. “Knowing my wife will have you… when I wish it would be me.”
Tristan clenched his jaw. “Stop it… just stop… it is hard enough as it is.” He breathed out, hard, letting that warm breath melt the ice in his chest a bit. “Arrange a couple of nights… and let me know where I need to be.”
“You will do this for me?”
Tristan faced him, crossing his arms. “Yes.”
Yorrick walked close and put his hands on those bulging arms. “I will be forever grateful.”
It was Tristan who took pity on him, unfurling his arms. He pulled Yorrick in a strong embrace, his lips on his ear. “I have never wished for anything else than spending my life with you. Together. But you are king now. My king. And I will serve you until I die.” His arms tightened around Yorrick’s trembling body. “I love you and I will always love you. Just remember this.”
He let him go, abruptly, and stepped back, leaving so fast Yorrick had no time to come out of his shock. Just the silence of that vast room, the ghosts of his words ringing in his heart.