“Remember” – Kenna x Diavolos (NSFW)

Summary: Diavolos’s arrival on the airship brings up past memories for Kenna.

Kenna knew she had to leave. Sitting next to Diavolos on the airship, she found herself focusing less on his words and more on the shape of his lips. Everything felt hazy with memories that Kenna wasn’t sure she could revisit. She stood up abruptly.

“I think we should say goodnight. It’s been a long day,” she said. Kenna knew how odd she must look, but she couldn’t let herself stay there. Diavolos didn’t move, instead letting his eyes run up the length of her body to rest of her face. A smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. Kenna could feel herself beginning to sweat, and she knew she had to get out of there before she made the same mistake she’d made years earlier. Kenna turned and started to walk away, but she barely made it five steps before his words stopped her:

“I still remember the way you taste.”

Kenna’s froze, her head swimming. She’d tried to forget, tried to push away that night, but she’d never been able to because she, too, remembered.

---

The party had only just begun and Kenna was already bored out of her mind. Kenna was trying to do her mother proud by performing her duties as the princess of Stormholt, but already Kenna was desperately wishing for an end to the banquet. She’d spent the first hour listening to her mother attempt to have a peaceful conversation with King Luther, but something about that man made her uncomfortable. Even when he smiled, there was a coldness to his eyes and Kenna didn’t like the way he looked at her mother.

In truth, Kenna’s mind wasn’t on the banquet at all. Her mind kept drifting back to the argument she’d had with Dom only days earlier.

“Kenna, it’s never going to work,” Dom had said, swallowing hard. They had been standing by the stables, with no one around to hear them, save for the horses.

“Dom, don’t say that,” Kenna had pleaded. “I’m sure if I just talk to my mother, we can find a way–”

“Don’t. Please,” he’d said, cutting her off. “Kenna, you’re just making this harder than it has to be.”

“Why does this have to be hard at all?” she’d asked, tears welling in her eyes, threatening to spill over her fair skin. “Who is to say we can’t be together?”

“Everyone!” Dom had shouted. One of the horses had stamped anxiously in its stall. Dom had taken a deep breath to compose himself before he continued. “Kenna, you’re a princess. You deserve to be with someone worthy of you.”

“But–”

“I can offer you nothing,” Dom had said, his voice steady and quiet.

“Dom, that’s not true,” Kenna had protested, the tears finally falling from her eyes. Dom had wiped the tears from her eyes and pulled her close to him, hugging her tightly. Kenna had buried her face in the shoulder of his tunic.

“Kenna, I can’t keep doing this,” he’d said, his lips brushing against her hair. “I can’t keep pretending that this is going to work out the way I want it to. It’s not fair to either of us.”

Kenna had stayed silent. She knew he was right. She hated that Dom was right, but she knew he was.

“Just promise me one thing,” Dom said, pulling back slightly so he could look her in her eyes. “And this is really, really important.”

“What?” Kenna asked, her voice breaking a little on the word.

“Don’t marry Prince Tevan,” Dom said. A laugh fell from her lips, surprising her.

“Why not Tevan?”

“Because I want you to always know that you’re the most beautiful person in the world. And Tevan … well, he dresses like a peacock,” Dom said, a sad smile on his face. Kenna laughed again.

“Fine, I promise I won’t marry Tevan,” Kenna agreed.

“Good.”

Dom had kissed her one more time, softly, sweetly. Then he’d left her by the stables, alone with her thoughts as she wiped the tears from her cheeks.

Kenna hadn’t seen Dom much since they’d ended their relationship. She’d caught glances of him around the palace, but she had the distinct impression he was avoiding her. She knew that was for the best, but part of her still wanted to see him, even for a moment.

“Excuse me, Mother,” Kenna murmured before she stood up.

“Kenna, where are you going?” the queen asked perplexedly.

“I’ll be right back, I just need a moment,” Kenna said quickly.

“You know, it’s very rude to abandon your guests like this, especially so early in the evening,” Luther said. “If you’re the future of Stormholt, I have to say I’m disappointed.”

The queen didn’t deign to look back over her shoulder at Luther. Her tone was light, but her words were frozen in ice.

“Thank you, Luther, but I can attend to my own daughter.”

Luther snorted and took another sip of his ale.

“Could have fooled me, your majesty,” he muttered.

“Hey!” Kenna protested, taking a step towards Luther, who watched her with amused eyes. “How dare you–”

“Kenna,” the queen interjected. “I think maybe you’re right, it would be good for you to get some air.” Kenna wanted to say more, but didn’t. Her mother reached out and took her hand in hers, briefly squeezing her daughter’s fingers. “But hurry back, I believe Prince Tevan was looking for you.”

Kenna turned quickly and left the hall, not sure if she felt like laughing or crying. She exited through the heavy wooden doors, the sound of the party dissolving behind her as she hurried down the hall. Kenna kept going until she burst through a side door, out into the night air. The gardens were quiet and Kenna wound her way through until she reached the far side of the garden, hidden by a large willow tree. There, she leaned against the trunk and slid to the ground. She breathed a sigh of relief, finally alone.

“Is that any way for a princess to behave?”

Kenna nearly jumped out of her skin at the voice.

“Who is that?” she demanded, her heart racing.

“What, you don’t recognize my lovely voice? I should be offended, Kenna,” the young man said, pushing aside the branches of the willow tree.

“Gods, Diavolos,” Kenna said, rolling her eyes. “Are you following me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he said, coming over to sit beside her on the ground. “I was outside in the garden when you barrelled past me. Nearly knocked me over, I might add.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be inside for the party?” she asked.

“Aren’t you?” Diavolos asked. “I’m not sure a good host spends her time hiding under a tree.”

“Look, Diavolos, your father has already given me a hard time about leaving the hall, I’m really not interested in hearing that again. Why don’t you just go back inside?”

“Because I don’t really want to be there either,” Diavolos said, quieter this time. Kenna didn’t say anything as a breeze ruffled the branches of the tree, causing the leaves to whisper around them. “So,” Diavolos said. “Where’s that commoner of yours?”

“Excuse me?” Kenna asked, her voice sharp.

“Oh, come on, Kenna,” Diavolos said with a small laugh. “Everyone knows about you and Dom.”

“Well, there’s nothing to know anymore,” Kenna snapped. “Satisfied?” She braced herself for another antagonistic remark, but was surprised when none came.

“I’m sorry,” Diavolos said. “Truly.”

“No, you’re not,” Kenna said, laughing bitterly. Diavolos heaved an exasperated sigh.

“You know, Kenna, you’re not the only one bound by your station,” he 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.”

They sat in silence as Kenna considered his words. She dropped her hands into the grass beside her, threading her fingers through the soft blades.

“I’m sorry,” she said finally. Diavolos sighed.

“So what now?” he asked. “Are you heading back inside?”

“Honestly, I’d rather not,” she said. “I’m not really in a festive mood.”

“Do you want me to go?” he asked. Kenna couldn’t be sure, but she thought she heard a shift in his voice.

“If you want to,” she replied. Despite her light reply, she found herself wanting to say no. There was something about sitting under this tree with him, the branches hiding them away from the castle, the party. Everything. She felt his knuckles brush against hers, but instead of pulling her hands away, she left them where they were. Diavolos traced tentative lines across the backs of her hands, his fingertips surprisingly calloused for a prince. Kenna told him so.

“Weapons training,” he said. “Not everyone can be Zenobia.”

Kenna smirked at the mention of Diavolos’s spoiled sister, before suddenly pulling her hands away.

“I shouldn’t be out here,” she said. “You’re a Nevrakis. Your father makes no secret about keeping a covetous eye on Stormholt.”

“Forget my father,” he said quietly.

“How can I?” Kenna asked. “Like you said, we’re bound by our stations.”

“What if we weren’t?” Diavolos asked. He reached out for her in the darkness and found her hand. She didn’t pull it away. “What if I wasn’t a Nevrakis and you weren’t Kenna Rhys of Stormholt?”

“That’s ridiculous,” she said with far less conviction in her voice. She was very aware of every bit of her fingers, now cupped between Diavolos’s two hands. “We cannot change the truth.”

“Humor me for a moment,” he said. “What if I was just a man and you were just a woman? Sitting alone in a garden under a tree?”

Kenna was about to make a sarcastic reply when she felt Diavolos lift her hand to his lips and kiss her palm. She shivered, the words sticking in her throat. He kissed her palm and then the inside of her wrist, his lips feather light across her skin. She cupped her hand around his head and her pinkie grazed his ear. Kenna heard the rustle of his movement and then she realized he was moving closer, his lips stopping just before hers as if waiting for permission. She hesitated, breathing in the woodsy scent of his skin before she closed the space between them. Kenna allowed herself to sink into his kiss, his lips melting over hers, his tongue folding into hers. Diavolos kissed her with the confidence she’d always known him to have, but he also kissed her with a desire Kenna had not expected of him that left her breathless. She found herself matching the ardor of his kiss, and, as she did, the rest of the world outside the tree slipped away. Kenna was left with only one thought as Diavolos’s kiss grew more urgent: she wanted him. Gods, did she want him.

Kenna climbed atop his lap, straddling his legs. His hands felt everywhere at once, in her hair, on her neck, on her legs, pushing up her dress to caress her thighs. She ground her hips against his and he responded in kind, his hands digging into her waist as he pulled her closer. Kenna’s fingers fumbled with ties on his tunic and slid it off of his shoulders. Diavolos yanked his arms free and immediately grabbed for her dress, pulling it up and over her head before dropping it beside them in a heap on the grass. The cool night air blew across her skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Diavolos circled his arm her around the waist and flipped her onto her back in the lush grass. Kenna tried to pull him to her but he edged away, his mouth trailing down her body, pausing at her breasts. He gently bit at her breasts, his tongue flitting across one nipple, then the other. She moaned softly and arched her back, unable to stay still under his touch.

“Shhh,” he admonished teasingly as he rose back up to whisper in her ear. “Someone could hear you.”

She nodded, her smooth cheek against his rough stubble. Kenna felt his hand running down the length of her body, over her stomach and down between her legs. She spread them a little wider and he rested his hand on her for a moment, feeling her hot, wet heat. Kenna pushed herself against his hand, begging him with her body to keep touching her. He obliged and slipped a finger inside of her, then two. Kenna gasped and bit her lip, trying to keep the sounds of her pleasure at bay.

“Good girl,” Diavolos whispered, his lips finding hers in the darkness before he began to work his way down once more. Kenna wound her fingers through his hair as he licked and kissed her inner thighs. She felt overcome with anticipation, desperate for him to finally touch her the way she wanted to be touched. Then, slowly at first, he began to run his tongue along her lips. Kenna tightened her grip on his hair in her hands as he finally, finally began to move his tongue against her. He wrapped his arms under her legs, pulling her tighter against his mouth. Kenna never wanted it to stop and she felt her hips already beginning to buck, already so close to the pinnacle. Her body began to tremble and as she came, she clapped a hand over her mouth, stifling her cries in the dark garden, her hips thrusting as he held her in place, bringing her back to climax again and again until she finally begged him to stop.

“I can’t … I need …” she gasped, her overly sensitive body fizzing out her thoughts. Diavolos rose up to meet her, kissing her neck as she pushed his pants away.

“I can’t help it,” Diavolos murmured breathlessly against her throat. “I love the way you taste. I can’t get enough of you.”

Kenna reached down and took him in her hands, feeling his hardness as she began to slowly run them up and down his length. His breathing deepened and he bit at her neck, trying to contain himself. She still felt so sensitive, overly awake from Diavolos’s tongue, but she guided him to her, teasing him against her wet lips. He groaned, his nails digging into her shoulders. Kenna guided him inside of her and he slid a hand under her, gripping her backside as his whole body stiffened.

“Gods, Kenna,” he whispered as he started to move, her body matching his rhythm. Every nerve ending in her body felt electric as she gripped him tighter, pushed him deeper.

Diavolos grabbed her legs and put her ankles on his shoulders, driving deeper into her with every thrust. Kenna felt herself getting close again, unsure if her body could handle anymore. As she began to fall apart, she threw her arm over her face, biting her flesh to keep from yelling out with abandon. She felt Diavolos’s pace quicken until he slowed, the last pushes long and deep as he stifled a groan, pulsing inside her.

Diavolos collapsed beside her on the grass, both of them panting loudly as they tried to regain their breath. His hand found hers and he twisted his fingers between hers as they lay side by side in the darkness under the tree. As Kenna lay there, listening to the breeze ruffle the willow branches, she realized she hadn’t thought of Dom. Not once.

---

“I still remember the way you taste.”

Diavolos’s words hung between them. They’d never talked about that night under the willow tree. They’d only seen each other a few times since then, and then the following year Luther had murdered her mother. Everything had changed. Everything had gotten so much worse. But now, Diavolos was back and she couldn’t get that night in the garden out of her mind. However, she was queen of Stormholt now. Things had to be different. She couldn’t let herself fall again.

“Goodnight, Diavolos,” she said, summoning every last bit of willpower she had.

“Goodnight, Kenna.”

She didn’t turn around; it was hard enough to say goodnight without giving in and turning around to see the face that, if possible, had become even more handsome of the years. The strong jaw was more defined, the cheekbones still sharp enough to cut. Kenna remembered the way his stubble had scrubbed at her inner thighs and she quickly left, heading for her bedroom.

---

An hour later, Kenna found herself still awake. She’d tossed and turned in her bed, trying to find sleep but it eluded her. Diavolos kept running through her head, memories of the way he’d kissed her overtaking her thoughts. Kenna thought of how the mere memory of his breath on her ear had made her shiver for weeks after that night, desire and lust coiling in her abdomen like a snake.

Finally, Kenna sat up. She couldn’t just lie there any longer. She grabbed a cloak and threw it over her white gossamer negligee, unsure of what it was she thought would happen. What if he was asleep? What if he’d just meant it as a nostalgic joke? What if he’d just said that to throw her off, leave her in a vulnerable position so the Nevrakis family could swoop in and take over? She didn’t want to think so, but she couldn’t be sure of much in this political climate, especially when it came to Luther’s son. And yet, these thoughts didn’t deter her as she donned the cloak and crossed her small bedroom to the door.

Kenna climbed down the ladder and walked quickly through the corridors, heading in the direction of Diavolos’s room. She rounded the corner and smacked straight into someone, who caught her just before she fell. Kenna and Diavolos stared at one another, neither saying a word as their eyes caught and held. Finally, Diavolos took her hand and led her down the hall, walking slowly backwards towards his room so as to not break away from her gaze.

Diavolos pushed open the door and escorted her inside, closing the door behind her. Kenna leaned back against the closed door and tugged the front of his tunic until his lips stopped just shy of hers. He put his hands flat against the door on either side of her head and she pulled his hips against hers, their bodies flush save for their lips.

“Gods, Kenna,” Diavolos whispered before he finally closed the space between them.