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hlizr50 · 3 years

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Terms of Endearment

I'm obsessed with Nesryn and Sartaq. And I am not ashamed.

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It had started innocently enough.

When Sartaq had slid his hands around her middle and drew her back into his chest their first night alone after the great victory, planting a kiss to that sensitive bend where her shoulder met her neck. He had seemed to breathe her in.

“My darling,” he’d sighed.

Nesryn had been taken aback, unaccustomed to pet names from him. Perhaps it was because they had fallen in love in the midst of war – not the time or place for terms of endearment.

But as soon as that final battle was over, it was as if Sartaq made it his mission to shower her with affection, praise, and every endearment he could possibly think of.

“My darling,” he had breathed into her neck that first night. It had been surprising, but not unwelcome. Nesryn was not accustomed to intimacy such as this, but she couldn’t deny the feeling of warmth that it sparked in her. Sartaq, so unlike any man she had ever known, made her feel precious and adored. Even when they were both covered in blood and gore.

“Good morning, sweet angel,” he murmured when she awoke in their shared cabin as they sailed back to the southern continent. She huffed out a laugh at him, but he only grinned back and tucked her messy morning hair behind her ear.

“I’m sure there is nothing angelic about me right now.” With a grumble she tucked herself into his chest, allowing her to feel his rich chuckle rumble through her. How fortunate for them that they had this opportunity to just be. That they had survived.

“You couldn’t be more wrong,” he answered. “Angel.”

Nesryn just shook her head and drifted back to sleep in the arms of her prince.

~~~

As wonderful and loving as Sartaq had been, she had still physically cringed when he called her ‘sweetheart’. So much so that he had pulled back from the embrace he’d so tenderly wrapped her in, instead grabbing her by the shoulders and finding her eyes.

“Nesryn?”

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “It’s nothing. Really.”

“Nesryn Faliq, it is obviously not nothing.” The prince reached up a hand to cup her cheek, and she closed her eyes with a sigh and leaned into that strong, comforting anchor. “Don’t hide from me, love. Please.”

She pulled his hand away, grasping it in both of hers. She loved his hands, the strength in them. They had seen battles for his homeland, for the world, and were still gentle against her flesh in those in-between moments when he made sure to remind her how loved she was.

“In Rifthold,” she began with a deep breath. “As a woman trying to make her way up the ranks, I found myself at odds with many a condescending man. Men who felt that a woman didn’t belong in the guard. Men who felt that a woman shouldn’t speak her mind. Men who felt entitled to my affections. And nearly all of them, being creatures of minimal creativity and intellect, would call me ‘sweetheart’ when they spoke to me as if I were nothing more than the dirt beneath their feet.”

Sartaq’s free hand fell at the small of her back and pulled her against him, lips falling against her temple.

“True men recognize and respect strength, regardless of whether it is a man or woman who possesses it. They were fools.” He rested his forehead against hers. “I will remember not to call you sweetheart. But know that you are my love, always, Nesryn Faliq.”

“And you are mine.”

~~~

“There you are, my beautiful morning dove.”

Nesryn turned, rolling her eyes, to find Sartaq striding toward her. He always wore that easy grin that toed the line between confident and arrogant. She hated how handsome that arrogant smirk looked on his tanned face.

“Good morning, your highness,” she answered haughtily. The prince only laughed.

“So formal, my lovely spring flower.” He was close enough for her to swat at him.

“You are insufferable,” she scowled, but her eyes had glittered with mirth.

“Insufferably in love with a stunning warrior goddess.” The prince grabbed her by the hips and leaned in for a kiss, but she turned her lips away from him. He didn’t let that stop him, though, and he simply peppered her cheek instead. Nesryn couldn’t contain her laughter.

~~~

Nesryn hadn’t thought that anything could be more exhausting than her time fighting in the war for Terrasen.

And yet, after a day of wedding planning with Duva and Hasar, she ached down to her bones from pacing. Her eyelids drooped dangerously as she stumbled into the suite she shared with Sartaq. She hadn’t made it two steps in when she was scooped into the prince’s arms.

“Empress of my heart, you look exhausted,” he whispered into her hair. Nesryn groaned.

“I’m too tired to even object to your ridiculous pet names tonight,” she grumbled. His chuckle rumbled through her, warming her aching nerves. She was not cut out for planning a royal wedding. How would she ever be empress?

A worry she would have to put off for another day. She did not have the strength.

“I shall have to take advantage, then, of your helplessness.” Sartaq carried her to their enormous bed. “Windseeker, song of my soul.”

“Sartaaaaaaq. If I didn’t love you so much I would hate you,” she muttered as he set her down, laying her shoulders and head on a veritable mountain of pillows. Instead of circling to the other side, the prince lifted a knee and placed it near her thigh on the mattress and climbed so she was caged between his arms and legs.

“You could never hate me, my beautiful cherub,” he chuckled as she grimaced. Sartaq leaned down and pecked the tip of her nose before rolling onto her other side. A strong hand wound around her stomach and pulled her back against a hard chest.

“I’m beginning to think maybe you just don’t remember my name, and you mean to overwhelm me with affectionate trickery.” Her eyes were already closed, the sensation of his lips against the shell of her ear making her shiver with delight. Damn him.

“Nesryn Faliq. Nieth’s arrow. Former captain of the Adarlanian king’s guard. Princess of the rukhin. Queen of my heart. My future empress –“ he grunted as Nesryn elbowed him in the ribs, but he only held her closer, whispering in her ear. “There will never be enough beautiful words to describe you. But I have never backed down from a challenge.”

~~~

They were to be married the next day. As was customary, Nesryn and Sartaq would spend the night apart. They stood in the middle of their sitting room, her head resting on his chest and his arms holding her against him.

“I shall miss you tonight, light of my soul,” he murmured, raising a hand to slide fingers over her hair.

“Could you not just call me by my name, for once?” The words ground together like stone. She didn’t mean to sound so callous.

“Does it truly bother you, Nesryn? All this time, have you truly hated the way I speak to you?” Sartaq’s voice was nearly as quiet as that day he had first told her that he loved her. That day when they both thought they would never have a chance to see what their future could be. Nesryn took an unsteady breath against him.

“Of course not, Sartaq. Every word that you utter is beautiful. It warms me down to my core. It’s just…” Her voice trailed off. The prince gently unwrapped his arms and pulled back so he could see her face. His warm eyes gave her strength, and his strong weathered hands wrapped around her much smaller ones. “Sartaq… I’m no princess. I’ve spent most of my life avoiding praise for my accomplishments or appearances. They were all expectations, and I knew that – as a woman – if those expectations were not exceeded, even if the margins were slim and the odds impossible, I would be cast out. Left with nothing. I have been a warrior. Royal archer, member of the royal guard, and captain of it. I know nothing of flattering, fancy words or poetic declarations of love.”

Nesryn lifted their joined hands and pulled them against her chest, lowering her gaze to them. “Everything you say makes me feel incredible, precious, adored. Never in my life did I think I could find a future like this, a love so astounding. What bothers me is that I do not possess those skills or gifts, and I fear I cannot give the same feelings to you that you give to me.”

The silence between them… she hated it. Sartaq was always so self-assured and knew exactly what to say, but all she could hear was the sound of their breaths softly escaping. Anxiety rippled through her when he pulled his hands away, but they landed on her cheeks.

“Nesryn Faliq. My warrior’s heart,” he murmured, tilting her face up. She lifted her eyes, lips parting at the heat she saw glimmering in his dark gaze. “I fell in love with you just as you are. I fell in love with Nesryn Faliq, Captain of the Royal Guard. I have no expectations of flowery love poems or lengthy declarations of devotion. I have no need of those things. The only thing I have need of is you. Call me by my name. Call me by my title. Call me an arrogant bastard, if you feel so inclined. So long as you do it with that smile upon your face, with that love sparkling in your eyes, then I will be the most blessed man in all the world.”

Nesryn lifted her hands, fingers tracing up the strong line of his jaw. Her lips tilted up as a slow smile spread across her face. “I can do that.”

“And I call you such outlandish things, pour my heart out to you, precisely because of what you just said. You have spent your life conquering challenge after challenge. And while your skills and achievements are considerable, the world around you was not prepared to grant you the adoration you deserve for it. I strive to make you feel incredible, precious, adored, because that is what you have always deserved.” Sartaq dipped his chin, brushing his lips tenderly over hers. Resting his forehead against hers, their hands cupping each other’s cheeks, he murmured, “And I would be lying if I said I didn’t quite revel in making you blush and rendering you frustrated and speechless.”

One of Nesryn’s hands found his braid and tugged on it, a blush painting her face. But she smiled serenely, beaming at the man who would be her husband in a number of hours.

“I love you, my prince,” she whispered.

“And I love you, Windseeker,” he answered. He kissed her again, not nearly as softly but just as brief. “Tonight, I will sleep with empty arms, and then never again. For the rest of our days.” Sartaq finally pulled away, knowing rest was needed. He backed away, his gaze never wavering from hers. When he reached the doorway he leaned on it casually, crossing his arms.

“Imagine the pet names I will come up with once I can call you ‘wife’.”

Nesryn groaned and rolled her eyes, waving him off as she turned toward their bedroom. “Arrogant bastard,” she grumbled.

The prince’s rich, throaty laugh echoed through the sitting room as she slammed the door.

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#throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #nestaq #nesryn x sartaq #nesryn faliq #sartaq #fanfiction #AO3

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