Just a little random something from me. Not much to say here.

Disclaimer says I can't claim anything.

Please enjoy and happy reading!


There were very few (if anything at all) things that Tibarn was afraid of. No, perhaps 'afraid' was too strong a word. There were very few things Tibarn was wary of. Among the very few would be danger lurking on the men of his kingdom, alongside the possibility of being stuck somewhere without a decent meal. He worried about something malevolent striking upon the remnants of the heron tribe that was under his protection.

He would fret very rarely over some things but never would he show his anxiety. Those times were mainly behind him since they had mostly occurred on the battlefield when he was accompanied by one of the heron siblings. And speaking of those siblings, Tibarn felt relatively safe in admitting that he was indeed slightly fearful of the middle heron child.

Anyone who knew Reyson and the easily triggered temper the man possessed really couldn't blame him. Even he, big bad King Tibarn, felt moments of what could only be described as fear when the white prince had a fit. He recalled one day when Janaff had said something that sent Reyson into a fit. It was amusing to him, since he hadn't been the target of annoyance, and watching Janaff flee from flying pottery had sent him into a round of deep laughter.

Tibarn blamed the Serenes Massacre as to why Reyson was a bit touchy. He didn't resent all beorc but he wasn't all that fond of them either. Normally if some beorc ruffled his feathers (figuratively, of course. Tibarn couldn't imagine what would happen if anyone besides himself touched the delicate wings) he would mutter angrily under his breath, speaking in the ancient language. Tibarn wasn't fully knowledgeable of the old tongue, but he could understand it easily enough that Reyson mocked the beorc title of "children of wisdom" and said something about irrational judgment.

Those who were smart knew not to upset the pale prince. Tibarn had learned a few things about Reyson over the years that compiled his reasoning for fearing the heron. First off, Reyson could give one good tongue lashing. Trying to argue against Reyson was like teaching a paladin to reverse the wind direction. It just wasn't possible. Only a mage could accomplish such a task, and Tibarn was no mage. The only mage in this metaphor that Tibarn knew of was Leanne.

He also learned that you never told Reyson 'no.' Such an order didn't exist in Reyson's mind. And to go along with arguing against him, if you argued your 'no,' then the prince had no issues with resorting to a not so innocent slap on the arm or boot to the shin. The man wasn't trained to fight and he was a being of balance and peace, but he also knew how to stand up for himself.

There was another time where Reyson showed just how un-heron like he could be. A recent discovery that Tibarn could always smile fondly at and that was during sex.

Tibarn enjoyed it, most definitely. He just never expected such a different side of Reyson when the prince was thrown onto the bed and ravished. He was a quite a vocalist, a dirty talker much to the king's surprise. The first time they had had sex wasn't long after the end of the war against the Goddess. The memory was still fresh and new, delightful to reminisce on. He'd taken Reyson to his room after a night of festivities, only barely feeling the effects of the large amount of ale he had consumed. He knew what he wanted, the small delicate man, and he was determined to take him.

It started innocent enough, kisses that were sweet but quick to become full of passion. Hands groped and tugged at clothing, mouth parted for a fast breath before connecting again. Reyson had been straddling him, soft hands roaming his bare chest. They moved up and up, tangling in Tibarn's dark hair, massaging at first before pulling sharply, forcing a hiss from the king's lips. Reyson had only smirked, never letting go. "You're all mine, Tibarn," he had said.

It had gone on from there and Reyson shred his perfect, innocent image. His blunt nails dug into tanned skin hard enough to leave welts and even drawn blood. Hair was pulled, sullied words were thrown about loudly in the waves of passion. And Tibarn could never forget the amazing feeling, the tightness around him, the heat and sweat and the amazing bliss.

Reyson would cry out loudly, demanding that Tibarn thrust harder, faster. He'd clawed at the strong man's back, clenched hard at the base of the hawk's wings, enticing a sharp cry that rumbled from the man's chest. And Reyson enjoyed it all, every damn minute of his act of sadism. Such a dirty thing of a pristine little man, the definition of all who were to be perfect was expelled at that very moment. Reyson would always be perfect and clean in the eyes of everyone else, but Tibarn now was privy to a side no one else would see. He questioned the snow white wings on Reyson's back and wondered if he should instead have the ears and tail of one of the beast tribe.

"Please Tibarn," Reyson said as he approached his lover who stood on the balcony of their shared room. "I advise you to rid yourself of such provocative thoughts. Leanne is on her way with Naesala. If she reads those thoughts, she'd be blushing like a ripe apple and that crow would never let either of us hear the end of it. I swear he has the capabilities of a heron sometimes."

Tibarn didn't need to turn to see the familiar pout of the prince's features. He could only smile to himself at the thought and forced his mind to conjure more innocent images. He turned then, facing Reyson who took the last few steps to him and pulled him close. The sun was rising and both looked out to the horizon, entrapped by the simple beauty.

"You know," Tibarn said, unable to resist. "You can be kind of scary."

Reyson scoffed in disbelief. "Says the Beast of the Sky himself."


It's completely random. I just wanted a little something with this pair to finally come out from me. Reviews are appreciated J