Title: Proven
Fandom: The Dragon Prince
Rating: NC-17
Length: 1318 words
Content notes: Viren/Aaravos, sexual content and some insect-related squickiness
Author notes: also for the bingo square "Solitary"
Summary: Viren receives a visitor in his cell



In his solitary cell, Viren has plenty of time to think. To think about what went wrong - whether there was something he could have done differently, a path that would have brought him to another destination than this one. To dwell on each decision, going back to when he and Harrow first formed their plan to kill the magma titan, and then further back than that. To wonder about where his children are now, and whether he'll ever see them again.

He can't sleep, though. The strain on his shoulders from the restraints around his wrists is too painful. And besides, whenever he closes his eyes, the deep voice of the archmage Aaravos begins to murmur in his ear. "Shut up," he tells it, but to no avail.

"I promised I'd stay with you," says the voice. "I don't lie."

"What good are you? It's not as though you can help me now, without the mirror."

The low laugh that comes back to him sends tremors down his spine. "Do you think that such petty things can constrain me?" And then, when he opens his eyes, Aaravos is before him, bathed in a faint violet glow, the marks on his cheeks casting a brighter light.

"This is an illusion," Viren protests. He knows the nature of moon magic, its ability to conjure seemingly real objects, creatures, even entire scenes, from nothing but strands of light. And Aaravos is a master of the six primal sources - he can surely conjure up an illusion if he chooses.

"Is it?" Aaravos asks, kneeling down and letting the back of his hand graze along Viren's cheek. The elf's flesh feels solid and warm in the chill of the dungeon. Still, Viren has doubts.

"Prove it, if it's not," he demands.

Aaravos smiles. "How could I prove it to your satisfaction?" That voice again, almost like a caress, and Viren knows what he wants to demand for his proof.

He pushes himself up to standing, leaning back against the cold stone wall of the dungeon, his hands still bound in their chains, and looks down at the elf. "Demonstrate your loyalty."

Still that enigmatic smile, with something knowing and dangerous behind it. "An illusion cannot harm you. If I am real, then that is not the case." Aaravos bares his teeth slightly, a veiled insinuation.

"Then show me both," Viren says. He's not unfamiliar with pain in the midst of pleasure - in fact, he finds it can often heighten the enjoyment.

Aaravos' eyes glint in the dark cell as he reaches up to loosen Viren's belt, unfastening his trousers and sliding them aside. "You are very trusting," he murmurs, running one fingernail along the length of Viren's cock.

"What do I have to lose at this point?" Viren asks, and then wishes he hadn't, as Aaravos chuckles and darts his tongue out to tease his head. The elf's touch is delicate, just a flick, but it's enough to make him gasp. Aaravos looks pleased and does it again, slower this time, letting his tongue linger on Viren's slit, circling around his tip until he groans. At the same time, he slides his three-fingered hand under Viren's balls, stroking them, reaching behind them to explore still more intimate places.

Viren wonders what the guards would see if they were to look into his cell right now. Would they be able to see Aaravos on his knees, working Viren over like a high-priced whore? Or would they see nothing there, just Viren with his pants down, cock thrusting pathetically towards empty air? Or is this all just happening in his mind? For all he claims to know the limits of primal magic, he's never encountered anyone with Aaravos' skill. It feels real to him, though - the wet, yielding pressure of the archmage's mouth is as convincing as any lover he's ever been with before.

Aaravos swallows him deeper, and Viren gazes at him, wanting so badly to grab him by the hair and force him the rest of the way down. With his hands bound, he can't do more than say, "More..." He wants it to sound like an order, but it comes out more like a plea. Aaravos meets his eyes, looking up with a sly twist of his lips, and gives Viren's balls a squeeze, hard enough to make him whine. The combination of the steady sucking of his cock mingles with the discomfort, drawing him into the middle ground between pleasure and pain.

"You wanted more," Aaravos murmurs, drawing off him for long enough to speak. His nails scrape down Viren's hips, leaving red welts in their wake. He lowers his mouth to lick Viren's balls, sucking one and then the other between his lips, and then turns his head to the side to nip at his inner thigh, biting the pale flesh there.

Viren gasps and twists against his bonds, longing to reciprocate the gesture, to kiss and bite at Aaravos' violet skin and watch it darken to indigo bruising. He's powerless here, and without access to a source of magical energy, he'll remain so. He imagines what it would feel like to drain the power from a being as strong as Aaravos - not to settle for little sips of essence from butterflies and insects and other such small creatures, but to consume something as large and strong as him... how intoxicating it would be! But even if he could do such a thing, it would be dangerous beyond belief, as dangerous as killing the magma titan or even moreso - and he wouldn't have a group of companions to aid him in the feat this time, either, only his own wit and strength.

Before he could think too much about Harrow, or what he had done to him, the elf mage's tongue draws him back to reality (if this was in fact reality). Aaravos pushes his legs a few inches further apart, sending a single long finger snaking behind him to tease Viren's ass as he goes back to sucking his cock at the same time. Viren moans, pushing forward against his mouth and then back against that inquisitive finger, balancing on the edge for a long, agonizing moment before Aaravos gives him exactly what he needs, swallowing him to the base while simultaneously driving into his ass. With a drawn-out cry, Viren unloads into that hungry maw, pumping burst after burst of come into Aaravos' throat.

The elf closes his eyes as though satiated, and then when he's finally through, stands up and kisses Viren, returning a mouthful of his own seed to him. The gesture shocks him, but he is in no position to object, gulping down the offering. Aaravos smiles against his mouth, and doesn't stop kissing. Something else slides from between his lips and into Viren's - at first he thinks it's his tongue, but it's smaller, and slithers as it enters him, like the worm-creature that is now in his ear somewhere. It crawls in like a caterpillar, and then seems to expand and blossom, its wings filling his mouth. Viren knows it is a gift - he swallows it as best as he can, choking it down, and feels a little bit of his power returning.

Aaravos steps back, smiling, smoothing his robes. "Is that proof enough for you of my reality - and my intentions?"

"Yes," Viren says. His voice rasps and he coughs, but he's grateful. Now he has some hope of getting out of here, if he can use this gift well.

"Good." Aaravos helps pull Viren's trousers back up, re-fastening his belt, leaving him just as he found him, at least as far as the guards' eyes will be concerned. "When you are ready, come and find me. Perhaps I'll even permit you to demonstrate your trustworthiness in return," he adds with a smile, before he vanishes, leaving the cell in darkness once more.