[M4F] Princess of Ashes

The scent of smoke and blood still clung to her. For five days now she’d tried to clean the stench from her hair. Yesterday she’d spent an hour in the stream rubbing her arms raw trying to get the smell off of her to no avail. Her ruined gown was worse, stained and ragged, it too carried the same stench that clung to her. It was a reminder, a reminder of everything that had burned, everything she lost.

She sat on a fraying blanket, the only thing between herself and the earth. The dwindling fire the only source of light and more importantly, heat. Her knees were drawn up to her chest as she surveyed the man opposite the flames. Her eyes were wide, reflecting the firelight as it was cast onto her cheeks, leaving her in an orange glow. Above her, the clouds overhead blotted out the stars in an inky blackness, leaving only their little world around the fire, leaving her alone with him.

Callum.

The man was a mystery to her, the only thing she knew was that he was a bastard son. Born to a tavern whore. He seemed to know nothing more than that, nor did he seem to care. He cast a hulking figure across the fire, large and imposing. His sword pointed towards the ground as he ran a whetstone along the edge.

The sound grated against her ears, a harsh shhhk, shhhk. She formed a thin line with her lips as he ran the stone down the blade once more.

“I said, you smell like blood.” She repeated the words, louder this time. He didn’t even look up, the silence only broken by the harsh sound of the stone on his blade and the occasional crackle of the fire. She wanted him to fight back, to say something, anything.

A moment passed as he finished the task and then stared directly into her wide eyes. “Better than perfume and politics.” His voice was a growl, he had no manners, not when he spoke to her, not when he spoke to anyone.

Sheathing his sword once more he placed it next to his things. She’d seen him do it every day since they’d met now. It reminded her of that very time.

He’d carried her from the ruins of the palace, from the ashes surrounding her as she watched the remainder of the court, what would be her court, as they were slain by the invaders. He’d cut down men twice his size as he shielded her with his own body. When she’d beaten her fists against his chest, just pleading for him to let her die, he’d just held her. His arms around her, impenetrable, unmoving until she couldn’t fight any more.

Blinking once she returned to the present, to the flickering fire and the man opposite her. “I’m not a princess anymore.” She snapped. Echoing words that he’d spoken to her on that first night.

His expression softened, barely as he looked at her. A small smile at the corner of his mouth, only for a moment. “No.” He said quietly. “You’re not.”

The words landed heavily on her, heavier than she expected them to.

“Do you even have a plan?” She snapped back at him. “Or are you just going to keep running until your sword isn’t enough any more?”

“It’s kept you alive longer than your throne did.” He said as he sprawled out on the log he’d been perched on. A man with nothing to prove to her.

Her cheeks flared and her eyes narrowed. She wanted to throw something at him, to hit him and scream and curse him until she couldn’t anymore. Instead she picked at the frayed end of the blanket. “I’d rather have died than be out here lying next to some no name mercenary in the dirt.”

“Next time, I’ll let the flames take you.” He replied coolly as he stared up into the inky blackness above them.

She didn’t look at him, she didn’t have to because she knew he wouldn’t. That first night when she’d cried herself to sleep on the blanket, next to the flames of the fire he’d built for her, with the food from his own pack in her belly, he’d wrapped his own cloak around her. When she’d fallen the following day, insisting she could keep up with him, legs too tired to carry her any further, he’d lifted her without a word and carried her the remainder of the way.

She felt safe with him and that scared her.

She wanted to ask more of him. Why did he save her? What was she to do now? Why did he still protect her when his kingdom, his king had fallen? Instead she just picked at the blanket, then looked at him again, narrowing her eyes. She had to get something from him. “So, what am I to you then?”

He didn’t answer immediately. He rolled over and picked up another branch for the fire and tossed it onto the flames. “You’re a burden.” He said finally. “A brat, you don’t listen, you slow me down, and you’ve almost gotten us killed twice now.” A heartbeat passed before he spoke again. “But I’d still gut any man who tried to touch you.”

The words slammed into her, hard like a fist, and although she’d never admit it, true.

She stared at him and his eyes met hers for only a moment. During the single charged second, there was something there. Not love. Not hate. Something hotter. Something dangerous.

She looked away first.

“I’m tired. It’s cold.” She snapped at him again. But there wasn’t the heat in them like before.

Callum pulled off his cloak and held it out . But she didn’t take it. She just looked at it, and then him.

Then she stood, crossed the space between them and without asking lowered herself into his lap.

He froze, but only for a second. She tucked herself against him, head on his shoulder, small enough to fold into him like she belonged there.

“I still hate you,” she muttered.

“Good,” he growled, wrapping the cloak around her and holding her tighter than he should. “Means I don’t have to feel bad for wanting to throw you in the river.”

She smiled, just a little. Then whispered, almost too softly to hear: “Don’t let go.”

His arms tightened in response.

“I won’t.”

—-

Hi there. I hope you enjoyed reading my prompt.

The premise here I think speaks for itself, bratty princess on the run with a gruff character, her only protector.

I’ve left it open as to whether they’re known to one another or not. There’s even a chance that they could be half siblings if you’d like to explore that angle. The rejected son whilst the perfect daughter got everything from life.

But I’d really like to focus on the story and the differences in these characters. He’s used to spending his time in the wild and in the small villages around the countryside. While she probably hasn’t stepped foot outside of a castle in her life. Just the smells from a local village would probably be enough to put her in a bad mood.

There is a threat looming over them that I’d like to explore, someone trying to hunt her down, to secure the throne fully. But we don’t have to play into that if you’d prefer something else.

When you message me, I’d like to hear your thoughts on where this goes? Do our characters resist the pull? Do they surrender to it? Are they heading in a specific direction?

I’d also like your thoughts on the princess, I’ve left her fairly open so feel free to come up with anything you like. I’d also like a list of your kinks and limits too.

I have a pinned post on my profile with a bit more about me along with my kinks and limits, feel free to have a read.

Lastly, I've been having some trouble with Reddit messages recently and would prefer to move to Discord if possible. However I'm happy to stay here if my potential partners prefer.

I look forward to hearing back from you.