A royal mistake (MxF historical/fantasy, incest, cuckold?)

[JaceMerner]

This was it. Finally. Hours of tense maneuvering. Days of preparation. Weeks of planning. Years of dreaming. A lifetime of pain. It had lead to now. Either Markus would bring an end to his father's tyranny, or die in the process. Either way, his suffering would come to an end.

He felt a slight pressure in his hand and looked down to see her fingers laced in his. He followed the arm up to see the clear blue eyes of his sister, his twin, shining back at him in the darkness. Even with her swathed in the same black cloth outfit as he, with masks to hide their faces, he saw everything he needed to see in her eyes. Years of their father's brutal games pitting them against each other had made them enemies as children, but now... well, since that night they first kissed, and held each other, and got to experience that love they'd been denied by their upbringing... That love made them stronger. Stronger together. Stronger than him.

Markus had suggested it, but they planned all the details together. She'd been the one to suggest this route, and Markus was glad he'd trusted her. It had gone without a hitch and now they were standing just outside their father's window on the balcony, knives drawn, ready to dive in and strike. Markus' heart tight, pounding against the walls of his rib cage as if it wanted to escape, but the feeling of his sister squeezing his hand settled him. He drew a breath and tensed his body, ready to jump, when he heard her whisper, "Markus, wait."

He turned to look at her again, and saw she'd tugged her mask down. He was struck again by her beauty; her face had always seemed to him to be cruel, before, but their newfound love had set her in a whole new light for him. She tugged her lower lip into her teeth as she reached out and gingerly lowered Markus' mask as well. Her fingertips slid into his hair, drawing his head close to hers as she leaned into to kiss him, trembling lips warm and soft against his own. Their breath the only sound in this darkest part of the night, the two lovers shared one last, needy, frightened moment. Breaking the kiss at last, his sister leaned her forehead against his and whispered, "I love you." He tilted his head up to press his lips into her forehead, cold from sweat, and replied, "And I love you." That was all that needed to be said. Markus tugged his mask up once more, gave his sister one final nod before he pushed open the door and stepped into the darkness.

It was then that he knew something was wrong.

The room was supposed to be dark, but not pitch black. And the bright spots that started to float in his vision didn't seem right at all. Quickly the floor started to give way beneath him and Markus stumbled to his knees. He threw his arms out frantically to catch himself, but a boot in his back forced him to the ground all the same. As he felt the consciousness slip away, Markus could hear the cold laughter of his father. What sent his blood cold, and shattered his heart to pieces, was his sister's voice chiming in: "See? I told you he was planning to overthrow you, father."

*****

Hours later, Markus awakened. Pain was the first thing to return to him, with a sharp throb in his head. Then, the bite of cold on his skin. Bare? He tried to pull his hands forward to feel his surroundings, but found he could not. Tugging harder, Markus slowly realized they were bound at the wrist behind him. And the rough feeling of the rope around his wrists scraping his lower back confirmed that he was naked. He opened his eyes in a panic as the memory started to flood back. It was do or die, and he didn't do. Has he died?

The brightness of the room blinded him for a moment, but as things began to come into focus Markus wished it had blinded him. Markus was in his father's room, where he and his sister had planned to assassinate the ruthless king. But instead of a dead king, and an end to their suffering, Markus' heart filled with horror as his eyes focused on two figures sitting on the bed, facing him. His sister, beautiful, iridescent, naked, and eyeing him with a wicked smile. Worse, far worse than anything Markus could have imagined, was that her hand was reaching into the lap of the figure next to her. Markus struggled to refuse the reality his eyes were teaching him. Next to her, and naked as she, sat their father. His cruel face was twisted into a smirk and his wide, muscled chest heaved under his deep, patient breaths as he stared down at Markus. The king began to laugh, low and deep, as Markus' gaze drifted down to his lap, watching his sister's delicate hand stroke tenderly up and down their father's hard shaft.

"You're awake. At last. Good. You can start learning about what happens to traitors to the crown."



Oh boy, I could just keep writing and writing here, but I want to leave room for creation! The idea I have is of two twins, a brother and a sister, being raised by a brutal authoritarian king. He pits them against each other until the brother decides he's had enough and tries to conspire with his sister to overthrow their father and take over. His sister's betrayal, both of their plan and the love he thought he'd had with her, sends him reeling.

I'd love to hear your thoughts on what else to bring to the scenario. Did the sister truly love him and betrayed him only for her own safety, or was she playing him from the beginning? What happens to the brother; maybe thrown in prison, or made her slave? What are the two twins' relationship with their father? Perhaps the sister had entered a sexual relationship with their father some time ago, and the two of them hatched the plan to trap the brother together? Or she hatched this plan on her own, leveraging her brother's folly into a play for her father's bed, and the throne? What excites you the most about this prompt? Is there anything you'd want to change, or add? My thought is that I play the two men.

PM me if you'd like to follow this prompt into a story, or just to say hi. Thanks for reading!

[JaceMerner]

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