Summary: Kenna and Diavolos reunite after he is freed from the dungeons at Stormholt.
Notes: This story involves a headcanon that Kenna and Diavolos hooked up at a party about a year before the start of the books (I used the same HC in one of my other fics, Remember – Kenna x Diavolos (NSFW)).
As Kenna followed Jackson down into Stormholt’s dungeons, a single thought kept replaying in her head: He’s here. Diavolos is here. She hadn’t seen him since the year before Luther murdered her other and Kenna knew she should hate him on principle because he was a Nevrakis, and yet … she couldn’t stifle the small flutter of excitement in her stomach. The descending stone steps were illuminated only by the torches that hung on the walls and Kenna placed her feet carefully, making sure not to slip.
When they reached the dungeons, the guards there jumped to attention at the sight of their queen. Kenna nodded at them as she followed Jackson to the last holding cell at the end. Several men were inside, some seated on the floor, others leaning against the walls.
“Diavolos Nevrakis,” Jackson said sternly. Kenna watched, trying hard to keep her composure. Stop it, she scolded herself. This is hardly the time.
“Yes?” came a bored voice from the darkest corner.
“Come forward,” Jackson ordered.
“I think I’m alright, but thanks,” the voice said.
“Diavolos.” Kenna was surprised at how steady and in control her voice sounded as she said his name. There was a momentary silence, the other men in the cell waiting tensely to see what would happen next. Then, Kenna heard a shuffling in the darkness before Diavolos stepped forward into the light of the dungeon torches. Although she had anticipated seeing him, it still took all of her restraint to not react when she saw him. He was, if it was possible, more handsome than she remembered, although he looked like he’d been through hell. Diavolos had clearly taken a few hard hits during the battle and there was an angry cut on his cheek.
“What can I do for you, your majesty?” Diavolos asked, his voice dripping with arrogance as he leaned against the bars of the cell. One of the guards banged his sword against the bars in warning, so Diavolos stepped back unhurriedly, unphased by the guard in the slightest.
“Let him out,” Kenna instructed the guard.
“Your majesty–” Jackson said, but she ignored him.
“I think I’m fine here,” Diavolos said. “It’s where I belong, right?”
“I didn’t know you were here,” Kenna said. Diavolos’s eyes met hers in the low light and she was acutely aware that all of the eyes were on them. Kenna was glad she was wearing her pants and tunic rather than a gown; she felt like much more of a warrior this way. She held her face as impassively as she could as Diavolos regarded her, his dark eyes intense and probing. Finally, he nodded. Kenna nodded to the guard who unlocked the door and allowed Diavolos to exit before slamming the cell door shut again with a clank. One of the other guards put his hand on his sword and Diavolos raised an eyebrow at him.
“Really?” Diavolos asked. He eyed the guard for a moment before he turned back to Kenna. “So, when do the floggings begin?”
“Do not speak to the queen that way,” Jackson growled. However, Diavolos never took his eyes off Kenna, who met his gaze before she turned towards the stairs and began to make her way up the narrow passageway. Behind her, she could hear the following footsteps of Diavolos and Jackson. Kenna kept her gaze forward as she made her way through the castle, leading their small parade towards one of the spare bedrooms. If she wasn’t mistaken this room was directly below hers. Stop it, she scolded herself. And yet, Kenna found herself unable to pull her mind away from the way he’d looked when he first stepped into the light in the dungeon. Even his footfalls behind her were strong, sturdy. She couldn’t shake the memories that kept flooding back, of their tryst in the garden during that party. And then … then his father murdered your mother, Kenna reminded herself. But Diavolos was not his father. If she thought he was, then why was she bothering to let him out of the dungeon? Kenna had not had a problem killing Marco, but Diavolos was different. He had been since that night in the garden.
“You know, Kenna, you’re not the only one bound by your station,” Diavolos said, clearly annoyed. “Don’t you think there are things I want but I can’t have? My father controls my whole life, everything is decided for me.”
Did he still feel that way? So many things had changed since then. Diavolos had just been captured in battle against her, and yet there was something in the way he looked at her, even now, years later. Was it all a trick? Was she making a huge mistake by letting him out? Her instincts told her no, but as this war continued, she wasn’t sure what to believe anymore.
When they reached the spare bedroom, Kenna opened the door authoritatively and led their party inside.
“Will this do?” she asked, projecting a calm she didn’t feel. Diavolos smirked.
“It looks more comfortable than your dungeons,” he said.
“Think of it as a larger cell,” Jackson said, his expression dark with annoyance. “I’ll have a guard posted outside at all times.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Kenna said.
Jackson’s face dropped in shock. “Kenna, please, I really think you should consider the possible ramifications of this. He’s a Nevrakis.”
“And I’m a Rys,” Kenna countered. “Aren’t I just as likely to slit his throat in the middle of the night?”
Diavolos suppressed a small, amused smile.
“My queen–”
“Thank you, Jackson,” Kenna interrupted. “You may go.”
Jackson’s face reddened as he clearly wanted to say more, but instead he nodded and left.
“You know, I think you answered him too quickly,” Diavolos said, a bemused smile on his face. “What if I wanted a guard posted outside my room?”
“Why, do you feel you need a minder to keep you in here?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Quite the opposite,” he said, taking a step closer to her. “I think perhaps I should be worried about what might come in here to get me.”
“Don’t worry, the monsters don’t live under this particular bed,” Kenna replied. Diavolos was standing only a few inches away from her now.
“I’ve faced my fair share of monsters,” he said, then paused. “Why did you come get me out of the dungeons?”
“Professional courtesy,” Kenna said. Diavolos studied her face and Kenna could feel her heart beating so fast, standing so close to him, that she was certain he could hear it.
“Do you know why I ended up in your dungeon?” Diavolos asked.
“Because my army is superior to yours,” she said dryly, as if the answer was obvious. Diavolos chuckled. Kenna suddenly felt like she had to get out of there, like she couldn’t be trusted to stay with him for a moment longer, so she turned and headed towards the door. “I’ll leave you to get settled.”
Kenna closed the door behind her and walked quickly to the stairs, heading up to her own bedroom. It wasn’t until she was in her own chambers that she allowed herself to collapse against the wall, barely holding herself up. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe she should’ve just left him down in the dungeon. Why did she think it was such a good idea to bring him up? He was so close, just one floor below, and all she could think of were the many nights she’d lain awake, pulsing against her own touch while thinking of the memory of their time together. Had he ever thought about her? Kenna shook the thought away. Of course not. His reputation was well known and Kenna told herself she shouldn’t delude herself into think he’d spent any time thinking of her.
That night, unable to sleep, Kenna sat in her bed, replaying Diavolos’s question in her mind.
“Do you know why I ended up in your dungeon?”
She’d tried to put it out of her mind, but she couldn’t. Finally, frustrated, Kenna climbed out of bed and wrapped a blue dressing gown around her white negligee. The hour was late and the castle hallways were quiet as she made her way across the cold stone floor. When she reached Diavolos’s door, she knocked, hard, before she could change her mind. Moments later, the door opened to reveal Diavolos, shirtless, and illuminated only by the glow from the fireplace. Kenna was immediately annoyed that he didn’t look surprised to see her, but she didn’t let that deter her course of action.
“Why did you end up in my dungeon?” she demanded. Diavolos stepped aside to allow her entrance into the room. Kenna brushed past him and he closed the door behind her. She turned back to him and waited for his answer.
“No pleasantries?” he asked. “You just barged into here in the middle of the night, the least you could do is say hello.”
“Diavolos, I’m waiting.”
Diavolos hesitated, rubbing his brow with his hand before he dropped it to his side.
“I ended up in your dungeon,” he said slowly, “because I saw you during the battle.”
“What do you mean you saw me during the battle?”
“I mean,” Diavolos continued, “I saw you during the battle and I was distracted. Only for a moment, but it was enough for your soldiers to overpower me.”
“Why, did you think I was dead?” she asked.
Diavolos shook his head. “Not at all. But when I saw you …” he paused. “I’m a better soldier than that. I don’t get distracted.” Kenna regarded him silently, feeling her skin flush in a way that she hoped the firelight hid.
Suddenly, he crossed the room towards her, taking her face in his hands. The calluses on his fingers brushed her cheeks, but Kenna didn’t move away.
“You might have me killed for this, but there are worse reasons to die,” he said.
Before Kenna could react, Diavolos kissed her. She returned his embrace, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him to her. Diavolos kissed her harder, his tongue demanding entrance to her mouth. Her tongue folded against his before his mouth broke away from hers, kissing down her neck.
“I thought you’d forgotten me,” Kenna said as she tugged at the ties on his pants, letting them fall to the floor. Diavolos kicked them away and untied her dressing gown, yanking it down.
“I could never forget you,” he murmured before his lips crashed into hers again. Kenna felt his hands slide the thin straps of her nightgown from her shoulders, pushing the nightgown away. It puddled at her feet and in one swift motion, Diavolos swept her up and deposited her on the bed. He braced himself above her and paused, staring down at her.
“Is this really happening?” he asked quietly, surprising her. Kenna reached up and gently took his face in her hands, pulling him down to kiss her. His lips were soft and tender and in that moment, she decided to let go over her swirling, confusing thoughts. All she knew was the here and now and how much she wanted this man.
“Yes,” she whispered against his kiss. “Take me.”
Kenna’s breath caught as Diavolos pushed into her, her fingers digging into his back. She arched against him and he kissed her, moving in and out of her slowly. Kenna wrapped her legs around his back, pushing him deeper inside.
“Gods, Kenna,” he muttered as he buried his face in her neck.
After a few minutes, he suddenly pulled out. Kenna whined in frustration as he began to kiss his way down her body.
“Patience,” he urged mischievously as he slipped his fingers inside her. He beckoned to her and she moaned softly, her hips pushing against his hand. He slowly built up speed, thrusting his fingers in and out of her. Then his tongue was on her clit, lapping against her as she gripped his hair, bucking against his mouth.
“Don’t … stop …” she managed to gasp. Kenna looked down at him and found him watching her hungrily. She dissolved under his gaze, calling out his name, filling his temporary bedroom.
Kenna’s orgasm was still pulsing through her body when Diavolos knelt before her and pulled her hips up, slamming into her. Kenna moaned as she matched Diavolos’s rhythm, his hands running up her body to cup her breasts, her nipples hard and sensitive to the touch under his calloused fingers. Suddenly his hands slid around to her back and he pulled her up to him. She wrapped her arms around Diavolos, desperately clinging to him as he continued to push into her.
When Kenna came again, her nails dug into his shoulders, crisscrossing old battle scars, rewriting their stories. His thrusts were erratic now, faster, his grip on her tighter than before.
“Gods, Kenna,” Diavolos groaned into her chest as he came, hot and wanting inside of her
Breathing hard, Kenna tilted his face towards her and he kissed her, his lips melting into hers. He broke away to gently lay her down on the bed before he lay down beside her. Diavolos pulled her to him and kissed her again as he wrapped his strong arms around her. Kenna draped her leg over his hip and Diavolos pressed his body flush against hers. They lay like that for a long time and the only sounds Kenna could hear was the steady rise and fall of his breathing and the occasional crackle of the fire.
Kenna awoke with a start, momentarily confused by the body beside her on the bed. Then she remembered what had happened between her and Diavolos, his sleeping form beside her serving as evidence that no, it hadn’t been a dream at all. Kenna sat up carefully so as not to disturb Diavolos. The fire in the fireplace had burned down to glowing coals and the room had grown cool. Kenna glanced towards the window; dawn wasn’t upon them yet, but it would be soon.
She slid off the bed and dressed quietly, wrapping her blue dressing gown tightly around her. Although it was dark, she could still see Diavolos lying on the bed, above the sheets. Kenna reached over and pulled the blanket from her abandoned side of the bed, folding it over him to keep him warm. He sighed in his sleep, but didn’t wake. Kenna watched him for a moment, wanting to stay but knowing she had to leave. Finally, she turned and headed towards the bedroom door. She opened it quietly but glanced back towards the bed. Diavolos still slept peacefully. Kenna knew that she shouldn’t have allowed herself to be so reckless, but she had wanted to be reckless. She’d wanted to be with him again, to feel his body against her own.
This can’t happen again, she told herself as she shut the bedroom door and began to make her way upstairs to her own chambers. But, of course, she knew it would.
