Categories > Games > Fire Emblem
Learning my place
Ranulf has been spending so much time with Ike and the other beorcs that he's forgotten his place in the pack.
?Blocked
Notes: I love Ranulf ^_^
”I’m sick of this waiting. A day more and I will be growing moss out of my paws. We’re laguz so why can’t we act like ones and just attack?” Skrimir asked impatient, his normally self-confident grin looking slightly grim.
The normal easy going smile on Ranulf’s face was also replaced by a patient frown. “If you had listened last time or the time before that or actually on any of the many previous times that I’ve explained this, you would understand; if we want to spare as many lives as we can and win this war, we need to plan ahead. That means thinking before attacking”.
“Bah, thinking is for the week. All we need to do is sniff the air for the stench of steel, follow that stench and attack”, Skrimir said and smiled broadly. Apparently the mere image of battle made his spirit rise.
“That is the thinking that will cost this war to us. You should heed our king’s words and learn from Ike and his mercenaries. They are the walking proof of what kind of terrible force a combined strength can be. Strength, skill and strategy are keys for every true victory”, Ranulf said his face shining with proud for the fact that he had once had the pleasure to be part of that group. Serving under Ike had truly been a life changing experience.
“You know, that is the one thing that I don’t really get. Uncle and general Giffca both seem to think pretty highly for this Ike. And I agree that for a beorc he is strong but still nothing compared to me. I don’t understand what it is that they think I could learn from him… what now?” Skrimir asked as Ranulf’s face twisted weird. He wasn’t sure if it was agony or laughter.
“You. You’re impossible. No, this task is impossible. There is no way a thickhead like you would become a king… even Ike would be better suited for the crown of Gallia and he’s a beorc, a simple minded one above all!” Ranulf said his anger rising by the word as his self-control finally broke.
Skrimir had been a nagging headache for Ranulf since he was assigned to be the lions second in command. Self control and patience had probably been his merits when getting this assignment. The characteristics that everyone knew Skrimir had never even heard of, let alone owned.
“Now here’s the nature of the cat-clan that I though you had forgotten…” Skrimir said grabbing the angry Ranulf by his arm and hauling him closer “…but it seems you still have been spending too much time with your beorc friends. I doubt you even remember what acting on your place in the pact even means?”
Adrenaline still high after releasing all his frustration and anger that had been piling inside to him for too long, made Ranulf answer for the challenging look of his generals flaming amber eyes.
In a blink of an eye the arm that Skrimir had been holding had been covered with a light blue thick fur and the owner of it slipped out of his grasp. Ranulf was able to launch his feline form over Skrimir and sink his teeth to his massive arm for few seconds before having to jump off as the brindle skin turned to flaming red fur.
Because of their limited space, Ranulf was able to avoid the first violent attacks of Skrimir, for even if he was half his size, he was still twice, maybe even three times quicker than the big lion. One would think the blue cat dominated the fight when watching as Ranulf escaped under the huge oak table in the middle of the tent and attacked over it on Skrimir’s back, being still quick to jump off before Skrimir could launch his counter-attack. But when Skrimir did get him under his paw, the fight was over.
One paw punch made Ranulf crash the oaken table and the hit affecting his speed enough for not being able to roll away as Skrimir’s big lion body jumped over him. Skirmish sharp fangs buried themselves to Ranulf’s neck making him roar of agony. He could only try to get Skrimir off his back few times before the lion’s weight crushed his strength. It still took a several minutes before Ranulf gave up all together.
And as accustomed for the laguz, when Ranulf surrendered, he started to transform, his defeater following right behind him. But the fight, the battle over power was not yet over. The clothes that had transformed intact with them back and forth were ripped to shreds with one movement of hand. Skrimir’s big, strong fingers grabbed Ranulf’s hips as he ruthlessly pushed his, even in laguz standards, sizeable member inside Ranulf’s raised ass.
A mighty roar, a sound of his victory, escaped from Skrimir’s chest together with Ranulf’s pained one as his member ripped its way deeper inside, claiming its owner’s dominance over the other one. It didn’t take many of Skrimir’s powerful thrusts for Ranulf to lose his strength to support himself. But before his face hit the dirt floor that his fingers were already desperately clutching Skrimir once again buried his teeth to his already heavily bleeding shoulder and raised him to a sitting position, his blue tail wrapping it across his general’s muscular back.
Ranulf had already forgotten that for laguz kind, this act, which some beorc used for pleasure, was mainly a tool of showing dominance. But as Skrimir never tiring slide him up and down on his huge shaft, jolts of pain waving through his body reminded him of this. He had already remembered his place and was sliding to submission when a familiar scent found its way through his pain hazed mind, bringing a new kind of terror with it.
“Ranulf, what’s…” Ike’s serious voice slightly leaking with worry asked as he stormed in to tent. His question died on his lips together with his movement, like the sight before him had thrown an invisible wall before him.
“Ike, don’t!” Ranulf yelled when he though he saw his friends hand go to the hilt of his sword. His yell though lost some its power when Skrimir once again slide him down, resulting the ‘don’t’ come out slightly too high pitched and pain color his face.
But Ike’s worried step forward was frozen by Ranulf’s angry words.
“JUST GO!”
Ranulf wasn’t even sure why or who he was angry with. Was it for Skrimir for acting like a laguz and not thinking enough or for Ike right now for acting like a beorc and thinking too much? Or maybe for himself for not doing either?
What ever the reason he was angry, it did not last long. All it needed was the hurt look pass through Ike’s stern face for a second and his turning back and he felt his heart sink. Even the physical pain felt dull as the daggers of guilt, the ones from his harsh words as well the betrayal of his body, dug deeper than Skrimir’s sword of flesh ever could reach.
There were no words exchanged after Skrimir was done. He might have though Ranulf’s defeated spirit was due to his show of dominance, or maybe even guess the right reason. Nevertheless, he simply dressed himself and walked away to the fresh night air, leaving Ranulf behind.
The door cloth had not even dropped when a pair of boots came through. Raising his stare from the ground, Ranulf met an unreadable mask of Ike. He walked besides Ranulf with steady steps, stopped in front of him and offered him his hand. Slightly dumbfound, Ranulf could only stare the offered hand in disbelief.
“Come, we need to get you to Rhys”, Ike said, his steady voice and mask cracking as he reached down and pulled the beat Ranulf up. Taking off his cape and covering Ranulf with it, he started to walk the other man out. It took a few steps before the reality catch up with Ranulf. He stopped and as Ike turned his eyes worriedly on to him, he locked his arms around his neck and kissed him.
Skrimir had been right, Ranulf though as his body ached under Ike’s returning embrace. He indeed had forgotten his place. It wasn’t with his kin and definitely not under Skrimir, submitting for his physical dominance. His place was right here, besides Ike, was it in the battle or the bed.
”I’m sick of this waiting. A day more and I will be growing moss out of my paws. We’re laguz so why can’t we act like ones and just attack?” Skrimir asked impatient, his normally self-confident grin looking slightly grim.
The normal easy going smile on Ranulf’s face was also replaced by a patient frown. “If you had listened last time or the time before that or actually on any of the many previous times that I’ve explained this, you would understand; if we want to spare as many lives as we can and win this war, we need to plan ahead. That means thinking before attacking”.
“Bah, thinking is for the week. All we need to do is sniff the air for the stench of steel, follow that stench and attack”, Skrimir said and smiled broadly. Apparently the mere image of battle made his spirit rise.
“That is the thinking that will cost this war to us. You should heed our king’s words and learn from Ike and his mercenaries. They are the walking proof of what kind of terrible force a combined strength can be. Strength, skill and strategy are keys for every true victory”, Ranulf said his face shining with proud for the fact that he had once had the pleasure to be part of that group. Serving under Ike had truly been a life changing experience.
“You know, that is the one thing that I don’t really get. Uncle and general Giffca both seem to think pretty highly for this Ike. And I agree that for a beorc he is strong but still nothing compared to me. I don’t understand what it is that they think I could learn from him… what now?” Skrimir asked as Ranulf’s face twisted weird. He wasn’t sure if it was agony or laughter.
“You. You’re impossible. No, this task is impossible. There is no way a thickhead like you would become a king… even Ike would be better suited for the crown of Gallia and he’s a beorc, a simple minded one above all!” Ranulf said his anger rising by the word as his self-control finally broke.
Skrimir had been a nagging headache for Ranulf since he was assigned to be the lions second in command. Self control and patience had probably been his merits when getting this assignment. The characteristics that everyone knew Skrimir had never even heard of, let alone owned.
“Now here’s the nature of the cat-clan that I though you had forgotten…” Skrimir said grabbing the angry Ranulf by his arm and hauling him closer “…but it seems you still have been spending too much time with your beorc friends. I doubt you even remember what acting on your place in the pact even means?”
Adrenaline still high after releasing all his frustration and anger that had been piling inside to him for too long, made Ranulf answer for the challenging look of his generals flaming amber eyes.
In a blink of an eye the arm that Skrimir had been holding had been covered with a light blue thick fur and the owner of it slipped out of his grasp. Ranulf was able to launch his feline form over Skrimir and sink his teeth to his massive arm for few seconds before having to jump off as the brindle skin turned to flaming red fur.
Because of their limited space, Ranulf was able to avoid the first violent attacks of Skrimir, for even if he was half his size, he was still twice, maybe even three times quicker than the big lion. One would think the blue cat dominated the fight when watching as Ranulf escaped under the huge oak table in the middle of the tent and attacked over it on Skrimir’s back, being still quick to jump off before Skrimir could launch his counter-attack. But when Skrimir did get him under his paw, the fight was over.
One paw punch made Ranulf crash the oaken table and the hit affecting his speed enough for not being able to roll away as Skrimir’s big lion body jumped over him. Skirmish sharp fangs buried themselves to Ranulf’s neck making him roar of agony. He could only try to get Skrimir off his back few times before the lion’s weight crushed his strength. It still took a several minutes before Ranulf gave up all together.
And as accustomed for the laguz, when Ranulf surrendered, he started to transform, his defeater following right behind him. But the fight, the battle over power was not yet over. The clothes that had transformed intact with them back and forth were ripped to shreds with one movement of hand. Skrimir’s big, strong fingers grabbed Ranulf’s hips as he ruthlessly pushed his, even in laguz standards, sizeable member inside Ranulf’s raised ass.
A mighty roar, a sound of his victory, escaped from Skrimir’s chest together with Ranulf’s pained one as his member ripped its way deeper inside, claiming its owner’s dominance over the other one. It didn’t take many of Skrimir’s powerful thrusts for Ranulf to lose his strength to support himself. But before his face hit the dirt floor that his fingers were already desperately clutching Skrimir once again buried his teeth to his already heavily bleeding shoulder and raised him to a sitting position, his blue tail wrapping it across his general’s muscular back.
Ranulf had already forgotten that for laguz kind, this act, which some beorc used for pleasure, was mainly a tool of showing dominance. But as Skrimir never tiring slide him up and down on his huge shaft, jolts of pain waving through his body reminded him of this. He had already remembered his place and was sliding to submission when a familiar scent found its way through his pain hazed mind, bringing a new kind of terror with it.
“Ranulf, what’s…” Ike’s serious voice slightly leaking with worry asked as he stormed in to tent. His question died on his lips together with his movement, like the sight before him had thrown an invisible wall before him.
“Ike, don’t!” Ranulf yelled when he though he saw his friends hand go to the hilt of his sword. His yell though lost some its power when Skrimir once again slide him down, resulting the ‘don’t’ come out slightly too high pitched and pain color his face.
But Ike’s worried step forward was frozen by Ranulf’s angry words.
“JUST GO!”
Ranulf wasn’t even sure why or who he was angry with. Was it for Skrimir for acting like a laguz and not thinking enough or for Ike right now for acting like a beorc and thinking too much? Or maybe for himself for not doing either?
What ever the reason he was angry, it did not last long. All it needed was the hurt look pass through Ike’s stern face for a second and his turning back and he felt his heart sink. Even the physical pain felt dull as the daggers of guilt, the ones from his harsh words as well the betrayal of his body, dug deeper than Skrimir’s sword of flesh ever could reach.
There were no words exchanged after Skrimir was done. He might have though Ranulf’s defeated spirit was due to his show of dominance, or maybe even guess the right reason. Nevertheless, he simply dressed himself and walked away to the fresh night air, leaving Ranulf behind.
The door cloth had not even dropped when a pair of boots came through. Raising his stare from the ground, Ranulf met an unreadable mask of Ike. He walked besides Ranulf with steady steps, stopped in front of him and offered him his hand. Slightly dumbfound, Ranulf could only stare the offered hand in disbelief.
“Come, we need to get you to Rhys”, Ike said, his steady voice and mask cracking as he reached down and pulled the beat Ranulf up. Taking off his cape and covering Ranulf with it, he started to walk the other man out. It took a few steps before the reality catch up with Ranulf. He stopped and as Ike turned his eyes worriedly on to him, he locked his arms around his neck and kissed him.
Skrimir had been right, Ranulf though as his body ached under Ike’s returning embrace. He indeed had forgotten his place. It wasn’t with his kin and definitely not under Skrimir, submitting for his physical dominance. His place was right here, besides Ike, was it in the battle or the bed.
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