[ Twice a year, the Clans come together, to join in one place for the length of a fortnight. To trade, to gossip, to strategize. Deals were made and sometimes broken. Duels and spars and sometimes outright brawls broke out just as often as feasts and drinking and revelry. All the Clans were known to be as passionate as they were varied, and to come together for as long as they did meant those two weeks were never boring.
Sometimes they were more volatile than they should be - especially if two or more of the Clans were currently in conflict with one another (as they were often wont to be) but the Gathering was overseen by the High King, who insisted on equal standing for all who came together under his banner.It was he who listened to and settled disputes among the CLans, to lessen the bloodshed and animosity between Kings and those who swore oaths as Clansmen. The Silver King, the First of the Clans, was known to be fair and wise, for all that he rarely dabbled in the day-to-day controversies that broke out amongst the lesser Clans.
It was because of his impartial role in governing over King and Clan that the first night was always spent in feasting to his honor, the Clans visiting his hearth bringing prizes and visitor-gifts and tributes as well as the occasional bribe to win his favor or gain his ear. He accepted most with grace, presiding over the feast with his typical easy cheer.
While the Silver Clan had flourished in recent years, its King was unique in that - despite being King and Dominant of his Clan, he'd only taken one Submissive to bond to him, a girl that some would claim wild and strange although none would question her devotion and loyalty to her King. She was a constant presence at his side, even tonight, dressed scantily in sheer veils draped about her slim form, the cuffs and collar binding her throat and wrists and ankles jingling with tiny bells whenever she moved. Although tonight she remained perched on a plush cushion beside his throne, watching each Clan and King come forward to present their tributes with avid curiosity and excitement. ]
[Like all of the Kings, Saruhiko Fushimi was a Dominant. Like the Silver King, he only had the one Submissive. Granted, he had been bonded to his sub for pretty much their entire lives and Misaki was a greedy little bitch, but it still concerned some of the more traditional Doms or the ones afraid of the strange king from the eastern islands. It didn't help that his clan, officially an offshoot of the Blue and Red Clan but really its own thing, wasn't "normal."
Neither Saruhiko nor Misaki were "normal", not like the world wanted them to be. Saruhiko was a Dom, but he hated people and couldn't stand to be around the kiss-asses or the weaklings who wanted only to serve and not do anything for themselves. Misaki, meanwhile, was a spitfire, a sub who'd never give in unless made to and full of energy. Both families had been certain neither of their sons would ever find a mate.
And then Miskai turned thirteen and the two of them spent the five months between their birthdays fucking and flaunting their bond until Saruhiko was thirteen and it could be official. Those early years did shape them, however, and as Saruhiko grew and became more powerful, he began to form a clan. This clan took the shy and shaky Doms and the excitable subs, the Doms abused by a particularly selfish sub or the subs left to rot by bandits and let them join their clan. At first it took a while, since they lacked connections, but eventually Saruhiko's clan became fairly well known for rehabilitating "broken" people and sending them off where they were most needed. The ones who liked it in the clan stayed; now, at twenty years old, Saruhiko is King of a Clan no one dares offend. If they don't destroy your alliances with the others, they'll just straight up kill you.
He's the last one to present his Clan's gifts to the Silver King and he saunters up to him dressed in the finest blue-black silks of the eastern isles. Misaki is at his side, dressed in a deep red women's yukata and done up so prettily. A few other clansmen stand behind them with the gifts.]
We have several for you this time, Silver King.
[The gifts are brought forward and laid out, from a soft blanket for Neko to fine foods and sweets from their homelands.
And a young man about Shiro's age, dressed in a simple black kimono with his hands bound.]
And one final gift from the late Colorless King of the East, Ichigen Miwa. A sub, raised from birth to serve the Silver King.
[ Shiro had been looking on with fond indulgence as Saru's Clansmen bring their gifts forward. When Neko is presented with a gift, his smile deepens, for he knows who that is from even if the giver is currently too young to attend a feast like tonight's will be. But he is touched by the thoughtfulness towards his Submissive all the same.
It's true he has a soft spot for the Clan before him, a Clan composed of outcasts and those needing a home and has always thought highly of the King who leads them. It has only lent to their Clan's renown, for they often have the ear and the backing of the Silver King. It's what lets them occasionally get away with more than most.
Like the last present they bring forward to gift him with, one that has him - and everyone in attendance - suddenly going still in shock. Hushed whispers and speculative murmurs break out as every eye turns towards the slim young man being led forward.
Shiro ignores them, his gaze immediately drawn to the young man, leaning forward in his throne. Surprise is clearly written across his face as he drinks in the sight of him, something flickering in his gaze immediately and he... he can feel himself reacting to the young man in a way he never has before. Not to any Submissive, although he has a soft spot for many. But this... it's different. The only time he's ever felt something this strong has been when he'd found Neko. Or Neko had found him. The reaction was different, but the strength of it...
Puzzled by his own reaction, and a little uncomfortable by it, because he hadn't been interested in another Submissive before just this moment, he turns on Sarukio instead with a fierce frown, gaze narrowing on the other King. ]
Explain.
[ It has some of the other feasters leaning forward in their seats, sensing unexpected entertainment in the exchange - both from the audacity of such a gift and claim and from the Silver King's unexpected reaction to it. ]
[Well, he expected this. Saru shrugs, seemingly bored with this already. One of the clansmen steps forward again with a letter to Shiro from the Colorless King.]
Ichigen-sama's illness has finally taken his life. I knew he was raising Kuroh after the boy's family abandoned him, but never what for. His gift of foresight apparently showed him that Kuroh was needed by your side and asked me to deliver him to you.
[Small lie: Saru knew full well what Ichigen had been preparing Kuroh for, though he really hadn't known it was for Shiro.]
[ Even this far west, the Colorless King's skill at Seeing was renowned - one did not question such things, or if you did, it was often at your own peril.
He reaches out, taking the letter and sliding it open to glance over the contents, skimming the words before folding it up once more and tucking it safely inside his jacket. The contents within would have to be something he'd need to take his time with. This was not the time or place for it.
Instead, he turns his gaze on the young man waiting still and quiet before him, his hands bound before him and his head bowed. Shiro considers him a moment before holding out his hand to him in invitation and silent command. ]
Come here. Your name is Kuroh?
[ Had this been Ichigen's idea of a joke, or was there a deeper meaning there he had seen as well? ]
[Kuroh glances at Saruhiko, who snaps and releases the binding spell on the boy so he can speak. Traditional when presenting a sub to someone, he personally hates using them but whatever.
[ Something shivers through Shiro at the sound of his voice, his attention sharpening with a sudden hyper focus, that draw he feels only strengthening as Kuroh bows before him. ]
Welcome, Kuroh Yatogami. Tell me, what do you know of your former master's intent? Is it as our King here says?
[ Not that he doubts Saruhiko - probably - but he wants to hear this from the Submissive's lips directly. ]
[ Shiro gives a soft hum at that answer, taking a moment to consider his options here. Which... weren't many.
Sensing his conflict, Neko leans in, laying her head against his knee and he automatically reaches out, petting her with absent fondness, carding his fingers through her silky hair and making her purr with contentedness. Something in her action makes him smile and his stern countenance finally softens as he nods and straightens in his seat once more. ]
Very well, Kuroh. Come and take your place beside me. We will speak of this more later. [ A snap of his fingers and one of his attendants hurries forward with a second cushion to place at his right, opposite the space that Neko currently occupies.
Shiro's gaze turns to Saruhiko once more, and there's a glint in his eyes that hints that they will also be discussing this later. ] Thank you for your generous gifts, King, and for bearing the final wish of the Colorless King to me. I accept them with pleasure and invite you to take your place at my tables with all of your Clansmen. Join us, and let the revelry begin. [ he lifts his hands to motion for the feast to start and the Clans assembled before him break into a roar of approval as servants hurry in bearing heavily-laden trays of food and goblets of wine to start delivering to the King's guests. ]
[Saru, again, just shrugs and leads his clan to their spot at the tables. It's not his fault Ichigen decided to drop a Submissive in his lap with orders to deliver him to Shiro. At least Shiro seems to be willing to accept Kuroh, who takes his place and lets one of the others untie his hands.
Once at his tables, Saruhiko flops down on the seat set aside for him, tugging Misaki into his lap.]
[ Yata had remained silent and deferential behind his Dom during the presentation, dropping to his knees to bow low before the Silver King and remaining kneeling there until the gifts were accepted and they were dismissed to find their seats.
He's gotta admit, he'd been a little worried about how this would go. Giving the High King a new Submissive without warning seemed a little risky. besides they didn't normally work like that. Talks about visions and foretelling aside, it was a Dominant who chose their own Submissives - someone they felt drawn to or that a Submissive showed interest in being claimed by. The idea of just being handed over to a stranger like that made his stomach churn uneasily. He didn't envy Kuroh, even if he thought Shiro was a decent Dominant otherwise. He wouldn't want to be in his shoes for anything right now.
So when they do finally retreat to the table reserved for their Clan, Yata doesn't even hesitate when Saru reaches to pull him into his lap instead of directing him towards the cushion waiting by his chair. His grip a little tight, he moves to curl up on his Dominant's lap, facing him and leaning in to bury his nose against Saru's throat, inhaling his scent to help calm his anxiety. ]
[Fushimi's probably the only person not freaking out right now. He read the letter before it was sealed, he knows what it says and that their Clan is safe.
But apparently Misaki's uncomfortable enough to get clingy in public instead of just horny. Poor thing. Fushimi cuddles him close, kissing is neck.]
[ He drags in a deep breath, Saru's familiar scent and warmth washing over him and it has some of his anxiety fading away, his form relaxing now that he's tucked in close against his Dominant and every eye on the feast isn't pointed in their direction.
Looking a little sheepish, he ducks his head, his forehead resting against Saru's collarbone as he focuses on taking deep breaths to calm down. ]
[Kuroh knew the moment Ichigen-sama told him why he'd been given such thorough training that this was not going to go well. You never dropped a submissive on a Dominant like this, and especially not when that Dom was the High King, Adolf K. Weissmann.
Who apparently went by Shiro, though this was the first Kuroh had heard of it. Either way, he was a nervous wreck the entire trip west, up to and until the moment the King accepted him and had a cushion brought forward for him. Then he was only mildly uncomfortable, well aware of the staring and the gossip and the dislike already going around. This wasn't his fault!
At least Shiro doesn't seem to be too upset at him, offering him food from his own plate and even asking a few casual questions over dinner. When he stands and prepares to leave, Kuroh is quick to obey and get in step behind him.]
[ For once, the feast held little interest for Shiro. While he was happy to see the Kings and Clans gathered and assembled and getting along - even if it was only for the span of a fortnight - his attention had been diverted wholly to the unfamiliar Submissive now crouched at his side. Although he feigned disinterest to spare the young man some of the speculative looks and gossipping whispers, his focus kept returning, again and again, to the man at his side. Taking in his little movements, his mannerisms, anything he could observe, when neither one of them could give too much away.
When enough time had passed that he could politely excuse himself, he gives Neko a silent tap on the top of her head before rising from his throne. Knowing it was early and that this unusual change of tradition would cause a flurry of rumors and whispers in itself, he just gives a cheeky grin and motions for his guest to continue their feasting before gesturing for his Submissive to attend him, departing for his own tent amid laughter and cheers and quite a few lewd - but encouraging - comments. He waved them off with typical good humor and carried on to his tent, knowing his two Submissives would follow. ]
[Neko practically bounces on the way to Shiro's tent, babbling about the blanket Anna had sent her and the delicious fish at the feast. Kuroh is much more subdued, his worry starting back up again. He wants to ask questions, but he's positive he's not allowed.]
[ Shiro smiles warmly at Neko's babble, well aware of the contrast of how silent Kuroh is two steps behind him. But he also hasn't missed the flush in Neko's cheeks or how many sips of wine she'd stolen during dinner.
So it comes as no surprise that upon reaching his tent and holding back the flap to motion them inside, Neko takes her fuzzy blanket and heads - not for his own bed, but the cushioned hammock strung up between two of the tall poles in one corner. Curling up with her fuzzy blanket amongst the cushions, she gives a contented hum and promptly dozes off.
Shiro watches with indulgent fondness, having expected nothing less, because wine tended to do that to her, but it did leave the rest of the evening conveniently private for him and his new Submissive to get to know one another. ]
Come in, [ he bids Kuroh with a smile, gesturing to his luxurious makeshift quarters within the tent. They were temporary but held all the comfort of the home he inhabited the rest of the year. ] Make yourself comfortable. Did you have enough to eat? I can send someone for a tray if you'd like to finish in private.
[ He knew how nerve-wracking it could occasionally be, to find yourself at the center of that crowd's very intent attention. ]
[....that woman is basically a cat, isn't she? Kuroh is distracted watching her bounce over to her hammock and not to the King's bed. Isn't that were such a lovely submissive should be?
It takes him a moment to realize he's being spoken to; he bows apologetically.]
F-forgive me. I wouldn't mind more food, but don't trouble yourself, King.
[Nope, not looking for a place to sit. That's too improper.]
[ Shiro takes a moment to lean back out of the tent door to send a young attendant running for a tray of food to be brought here before slipping back inside to motion Kuroh upright again. Other than the very large and cushiony bed, there's a thick woven rug with a low table at its center and several cushions scattered around it. He motions to this when Kuroh remains standing, suspecting he's waiting for permission. ]
Please, sit. You've had a long journey, after all. And if this is to be your home now, with us, then I want you to feel comfortable.
[ Something softens in Shiro's gaze at that as he crosses to where Kuroh is kneeling. Reaching out, he brushes back a stray lock of hair that's fallen down against Kuroh's cheek. ]
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slytherynn2017-08-13 01:27 pm
Paid in Tribute
Sometimes they were more volatile than they should be - especially if two or more of the Clans were currently in conflict with one another (as they were often wont to be) but the Gathering was overseen by the High King, who insisted on equal standing for all who came together under his banner.It was he who listened to and settled disputes among the CLans, to lessen the bloodshed and animosity between Kings and those who swore oaths as Clansmen. The Silver King, the First of the Clans, was known to be fair and wise, for all that he rarely dabbled in the day-to-day controversies that broke out amongst the lesser Clans.
It was because of his impartial role in governing over King and Clan that the first night was always spent in feasting to his honor, the Clans visiting his hearth bringing prizes and visitor-gifts and tributes as well as the occasional bribe to win his favor or gain his ear. He accepted most with grace, presiding over the feast with his typical easy cheer.
While the Silver Clan had flourished in recent years, its King was unique in that - despite being King and Dominant of his Clan, he'd only taken one Submissive to bond to him, a girl that some would claim wild and strange although none would question her devotion and loyalty to her King. She was a constant presence at his side, even tonight, dressed scantily in sheer veils draped about her slim form, the cuffs and collar binding her throat and wrists and ankles jingling with tiny bells whenever she moved. Although tonight she remained perched on a plush cushion beside his throne, watching each Clan and King come forward to present their tributes with avid curiosity and excitement. ]
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Neither Saruhiko nor Misaki were "normal", not like the world wanted them to be. Saruhiko was a Dom, but he hated people and couldn't stand to be around the kiss-asses or the weaklings who wanted only to serve and not do anything for themselves. Misaki, meanwhile, was a spitfire, a sub who'd never give in unless made to and full of energy. Both families had been certain neither of their sons would ever find a mate.
And then Miskai turned thirteen and the two of them spent the five months between their birthdays fucking and flaunting their bond until Saruhiko was thirteen and it could be official. Those early years did shape them, however, and as Saruhiko grew and became more powerful, he began to form a clan. This clan took the shy and shaky Doms and the excitable subs, the Doms abused by a particularly selfish sub or the subs left to rot by bandits and let them join their clan. At first it took a while, since they lacked connections, but eventually Saruhiko's clan became fairly well known for rehabilitating "broken" people and sending them off where they were most needed. The ones who liked it in the clan stayed; now, at twenty years old, Saruhiko is King of a Clan no one dares offend. If they don't destroy your alliances with the others, they'll just straight up kill you.
He's the last one to present his Clan's gifts to the Silver King and he saunters up to him dressed in the finest blue-black silks of the eastern isles. Misaki is at his side, dressed in a deep red women's yukata and done up so prettily. A few other clansmen stand behind them with the gifts.]
We have several for you this time, Silver King.
[The gifts are brought forward and laid out, from a soft blanket for Neko to fine foods and sweets from their homelands.
And a young man about Shiro's age, dressed in a simple black kimono with his hands bound.]
And one final gift from the late Colorless King of the East, Ichigen Miwa. A sub, raised from birth to serve the Silver King.
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It's true he has a soft spot for the Clan before him, a Clan composed of outcasts and those needing a home and has always thought highly of the King who leads them. It has only lent to their Clan's renown, for they often have the ear and the backing of the Silver King. It's what lets them occasionally get away with more than most.
Like the last present they bring forward to gift him with, one that has him - and everyone in attendance - suddenly going still in shock. Hushed whispers and speculative murmurs break out as every eye turns towards the slim young man being led forward.
Shiro ignores them, his gaze immediately drawn to the young man, leaning forward in his throne. Surprise is clearly written across his face as he drinks in the sight of him, something flickering in his gaze immediately and he... he can feel himself reacting to the young man in a way he never has before. Not to any Submissive, although he has a soft spot for many. But this... it's different. The only time he's ever felt something this strong has been when he'd found Neko. Or Neko had found him. The reaction was different, but the strength of it...
Puzzled by his own reaction, and a little uncomfortable by it, because he hadn't been interested in another Submissive before just this moment, he turns on Sarukio instead with a fierce frown, gaze narrowing on the other King. ]
Explain.
[ It has some of the other feasters leaning forward in their seats, sensing unexpected entertainment in the exchange - both from the audacity of such a gift and claim and from the Silver King's unexpected reaction to it. ]
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Ichigen-sama's illness has finally taken his life. I knew he was raising Kuroh after the boy's family abandoned him, but never what for. His gift of foresight apparently showed him that Kuroh was needed by your side and asked me to deliver him to you.
[Small lie: Saru knew full well what Ichigen had been preparing Kuroh for, though he really hadn't known it was for Shiro.]
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He reaches out, taking the letter and sliding it open to glance over the contents, skimming the words before folding it up once more and tucking it safely inside his jacket. The contents within would have to be something he'd need to take his time with. This was not the time or place for it.
Instead, he turns his gaze on the young man waiting still and quiet before him, his hands bound before him and his head bowed. Shiro considers him a moment before holding out his hand to him in invitation and silent command. ]
Come here. Your name is Kuroh?
[ Had this been Ichigen's idea of a joke, or was there a deeper meaning there he had seen as well? ]
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Kuroh then turns to Shiro, bowing.]
Yes, my lord. Kuroh Yatogami.
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Welcome, Kuroh Yatogami. Tell me, what do you know of your former master's intent? Is it as our King here says?
[ Not that he doubts Saruhiko - probably - but he wants to hear this from the Submissive's lips directly. ]
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[Kuroh isn't sure if this pull he feels is simply a Submissive's natural response to a Dom, or if this is something else. Something new.]
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Sensing his conflict, Neko leans in, laying her head against his knee and he automatically reaches out, petting her with absent fondness, carding his fingers through her silky hair and making her purr with contentedness. Something in her action makes him smile and his stern countenance finally softens as he nods and straightens in his seat once more. ]
Very well, Kuroh. Come and take your place beside me. We will speak of this more later. [ A snap of his fingers and one of his attendants hurries forward with a second cushion to place at his right, opposite the space that Neko currently occupies.
Shiro's gaze turns to Saruhiko once more, and there's a glint in his eyes that hints that they will also be discussing this later. ] Thank you for your generous gifts, King, and for bearing the final wish of the Colorless King to me. I accept them with pleasure and invite you to take your place at my tables with all of your Clansmen. Join us, and let the revelry begin. [ he lifts his hands to motion for the feast to start and the Clans assembled before him break into a roar of approval as servants hurry in bearing heavily-laden trays of food and goblets of wine to start delivering to the King's guests. ]
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Once at his tables, Saruhiko flops down on the seat set aside for him, tugging Misaki into his lap.]
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He's gotta admit, he'd been a little worried about how this would go. Giving the High King a new Submissive without warning seemed a little risky. besides they didn't normally work like that. Talks about visions and foretelling aside, it was a Dominant who chose their own Submissives - someone they felt drawn to or that a Submissive showed interest in being claimed by. The idea of just being handed over to a stranger like that made his stomach churn uneasily. He didn't envy Kuroh, even if he thought Shiro was a decent Dominant otherwise. He wouldn't want to be in his shoes for anything right now.
So when they do finally retreat to the table reserved for their Clan, Yata doesn't even hesitate when Saru reaches to pull him into his lap instead of directing him towards the cushion waiting by his chair. His grip a little tight, he moves to curl up on his Dominant's lap, facing him and leaning in to bury his nose against Saru's throat, inhaling his scent to help calm his anxiety. ]
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But apparently Misaki's uncomfortable enough to get clingy in public instead of just horny. Poor thing. Fushimi cuddles him close, kissing is neck.]
Relax, Misaki. You'll ruin your pretty make up.
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Looking a little sheepish, he ducks his head, his forehead resting against Saru's collarbone as he focuses on taking deep breaths to calm down. ]
Sorry.
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Surprise Submissive
Who apparently went by Shiro, though this was the first Kuroh had heard of it. Either way, he was a nervous wreck the entire trip west, up to and until the moment the King accepted him and had a cushion brought forward for him. Then he was only mildly uncomfortable, well aware of the staring and the gossip and the dislike already going around. This wasn't his fault!
At least Shiro doesn't seem to be too upset at him, offering him food from his own plate and even asking a few casual questions over dinner. When he stands and prepares to leave, Kuroh is quick to obey and get in step behind him.]
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When enough time had passed that he could politely excuse himself, he gives Neko a silent tap on the top of her head before rising from his throne. Knowing it was early and that this unusual change of tradition would cause a flurry of rumors and whispers in itself, he just gives a cheeky grin and motions for his guest to continue their feasting before gesturing for his Submissive to attend him, departing for his own tent amid laughter and cheers and quite a few lewd - but encouraging - comments. He waved them off with typical good humor and carried on to his tent, knowing his two Submissives would follow. ]
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So it comes as no surprise that upon reaching his tent and holding back the flap to motion them inside, Neko takes her fuzzy blanket and heads - not for his own bed, but the cushioned hammock strung up between two of the tall poles in one corner. Curling up with her fuzzy blanket amongst the cushions, she gives a contented hum and promptly dozes off.
Shiro watches with indulgent fondness, having expected nothing less, because wine tended to do that to her, but it did leave the rest of the evening conveniently private for him and his new Submissive to get to know one another. ]
Come in, [ he bids Kuroh with a smile, gesturing to his luxurious makeshift quarters within the tent. They were temporary but held all the comfort of the home he inhabited the rest of the year. ] Make yourself comfortable. Did you have enough to eat? I can send someone for a tray if you'd like to finish in private.
[ He knew how nerve-wracking it could occasionally be, to find yourself at the center of that crowd's very intent attention. ]
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It takes him a moment to realize he's being spoken to; he bows apologetically.]
F-forgive me. I wouldn't mind more food, but don't trouble yourself, King.
[Nope, not looking for a place to sit. That's too improper.]
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[ Shiro takes a moment to lean back out of the tent door to send a young attendant running for a tray of food to be brought here before slipping back inside to motion Kuroh upright again. Other than the very large and cushiony bed, there's a thick woven rug with a low table at its center and several cushions scattered around it. He motions to this when Kuroh remains standing, suspecting he's waiting for permission. ]
Please, sit. You've had a long journey, after all. And if this is to be your home now, with us, then I want you to feel comfortable.
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...comfortable?
[What. There was nothing in his lessons bout a Dominant not being...well, dominating.]
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You don't like being comfortable?
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Most Dominants would have me in their bed by now. Not...asking me to sit.
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Do you want to be in my bed?
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Ahh, but that's not what I asked you.
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