The quiet buzz of the tattooing needle was just beginning to cross over from the realm of the merely annoying into that of the infuriating when the sound abruptly cut off. Still, Val didn't move as the artist patted at his back with a damp cloth, cleaning away the blood and the excess ink. It wasn't until the artist stepped back and a reverent hush fell over the room that the Prince realised that it was actually over. Six months of work and pain and care had finally resulted in the completion of his Royal Mark.

Gingerly, Val slipped off the padded table, careful not to stretch the tender skin of his back too much. An attendant rushed out to spread the word, while another moved to wait beside the full-length mirror in the corner, one clawed hand resting on the black draperies that covered the reflective surface. The faint trembling of that hand betrayed how deeply the attendant was moved by being involved in this sacred moment, but all Val could really feel, himself, was curiosity; until now he'd only ever seen the smallest portion of his Mark -- the filigreed tendrils that came down over his shoulders and along his collarbone to form the Necklet.

As a third attendant, as bland and faceless as the others, knelt a little to the side as Val turned his back to the great mirror. For a moment, all that was reflected in the smaller mirror the final attendant held was the velvet black of the draperies, but in an instant they were pulled away with a dramatic flourish and Val saw, for the first time in six months, the smooth planes of his back.

Val couldn't help but utter a most un-Royal yowl of surprise at the sight of the tangle of black and grey and red lines that now decorated his once-pale skin. From the base of his tail to the back of his neck ran inky twists and curves, here suggestive of the Royal Crest, there a stylised rendition of his own personal symbol. The patterns seemed almost to writhe and change as he turned and twisted, trying to see the entirety of the work.

"It's a masterwork, Eherra," he said to the waiting artist, smiling broadly. "Father will be jealous -- his Mark isn't nearly so intricate." The Prince's levity drew disapproving glances from the attendants, but the master artist only smiled and bowed deeply in thanks.

The attendants then helped Val into his robe and trailed after him as he swept out of the room. As he made his way back to his own chambers he picked up a steadily growing retinue, until he felt rather like a parade-master. Closing the door firmly in the faces of all but his personal servants, Val sighed and claimed a few moments to simply rest before setting back out to complete the rest of the day's duties.

The next hours passed in a blur of speeches and presentations, dry and dull and seemingly endless declarations of loyalty and pride, and altogether too many repetitions of his full name. The only speech Val paid any real attention to was his father's, which was brief and sincere and ended with a conspiratorial wink.

Finally, as the sun set and the celebratory bonfires were lit all over the city, Val was able to change out of his heavy dress uniform and into clothing more suited to the feasting and dancing that was to come. Wearing a pair of loose pants, a few bracelets and little else, Val descended the steps to the palace courtyard, to join in the largest of the many parties taking place that night.

Taking the mug of fauo thrust at him by a courtier and a leg of roast fowl from another, Val wove his way into the crowd, searching for one person in particular. At first he stopped to chat whenever someone particularly important or persistent sought his attention, but then he saw the face he'd been looking for and nothing short of a Divine Visitation could have convinced him to delay. "Arre! You made it!"

The slender tabby looked up at Val's shout, smiling broadly and pushing past a few of his fellow guardsmen to meet the Prince in a relatively empty spot -- too far from the fire and the food to be of interest to most, and not far enough to be appropriate for trysts. "Of course I made it! I had to take three double shifts next week to do it, but hells, you know I wouldn't miss your big night! C'mon, turn around and let me see."

Laughing, Val obediently turned to let Arre see his completed Mark. "Well? Does it meet with the approval of the honoured sub-sub-Captain of the Palace Guard?"

"It's amazing, Val... very regal." Arre pushed lightly at Val's shoulder and the Prince turned to face him again. The look on his face was hardly a joyful one, though, and Val pulled him down to sit on a bench.

"I told you, Red, if this is going to be too hard for you, you don't have to stay." Val reached up to stroke his friend's ears gently. "I'd understand."

Arre snorted and butted his head against Val's shoulder. "And I told you, I want to be here. It's the most important night of your life, after all. And it's only for tonight, right? Tomorrow..."

"Tomorrow I can finally choose my consort." Val rubbed his cheek against Arre's hair, closing his eyes and just breathing in his friend's scent for a moment.

Purring, Arre slipped one arm around Val's waist. For a few minutes they just sat like that, until the music started up in the distance. "The dances are starting... they'll expect you to be there."

Val grinned and rose, tugging Arre with him. "Well then, we should definitely be there! After all, I don't have to go with the priests until midnight; until then, my time is my own. And so," he said seriously, pulling Arre close against his side, "is my choice of dance partners."

As the drums pounded, the Prince drew Arre into the circle of dancing couples, threesomes and the occasional single person or larger group. "Maybe," he murmured wickedly as his hand wandered down to the base of Arre's tail, "this will shorten the line of people applying to be my consort tomorrow."

"Val! You don't want the priests to think you've gone and gotten a head start on the ritual!" The tabby guardsman sounded scandalised, and in the firelight his skin looked flushed.

"Oh, come on now." Val whirled Arre around, grinding their hips together. "All I've heard since I turned 12 is 'they'll know, they'll know, if you're impure.' Well, if they'd know if I did violate my oaths, then they should damn well be able to tell that I haven't, don't you think?"

"A point," Arre admitted, chuckling. "But you know that all the officials really think you're impossibly improper and bull-headed."

"They thought that about my father, too, when he was my age. Or so I've been told." Val did have a bit of trouble imagining his father as the wildcat described in his mother's stories of their youths, but anything was possible.

Arre finally shook his head and gave in, throwing himself into the dance. "You have an answer for every argument I could come up with, don't you?"

"Of course. The ability to convince anyone of anything is one of the princely virtues, though they call it diplomacy."

"One of the princely virtues, hmm, Valiant?" Arre laughed, ducking under Val's arm and dancing a little ways away, just out of arm's reach. "Was there ever a King Diplomacy? After all, we've had King Charming, King Trustworthy, King Honourable, King Stalwart, King--"

The rest of the list of former Kings was cut off when Val snarled and pounced his friend. "Very funny, but if you call me by my full name ever again I'm going to have to give you a good thrashing." Val's smile softened the harshness of his words, but the way his unsheathed claws pricked at Arre's skin gave the impression that he wasn't entirely kidding. "And yes, there was a King Diplomacy, way back in the sixth generation."

When Val finally let him up again, Arre ran a hand back through his hair and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. But look at the bright side... your name isn't as bad as your father's."

"That's very true. My grandparents must have been drunk on fauo when they chose the name Perspicacious." Val wrinkled his nose, then laughed and pulled Arre back into the dance.

As midnight drew nearer, the music slowed and quieted, until it was a barely audible heartbeat linking the dancers. Then, at the first beat of the gong, everyone went still and the drums faded away entirely. A path opened up between Val and the temple steps, and the Prince pulled away from Arre reluctantly.

Everyone, even the Prince himself, knelt as the High Priest slowly descended the steps, leaning on a younger initiate for support, six more priests following behind. When the procession came to a stop before Val and the High Priest touched the top of Val's head, the gong rang a second time.

"Prince Valiant," the High Priest began, and Val tried not to wince at the use of his full name. "This night marks the end of many things, as the dawn will mark the beginning of many more. Tonight ends your boyhood, and tonight ends the impurity of your mortal flesh. When the sun rises you will be not only a man, but also the chosen of the gods, holy in your own right. Are you ready?"

"As ready as any mortal can be, Holy One." Now that the moment had finally arrived, Val was forced to really think about the ritual, and the implications of becoming the true Heir to the Blessed Throne. He was given very little time to think further, however, as he was soon hustled into the temple, and then into the inner sanctum.

A haze of sweet smoke made the candlelight seem to blur and run, the flickering flames entrancing Val as various priests came and went, stripping him of what little clothing he had and returning with fragrant oils. Their gentle touches made him gasp, and he went dizzy for a moment of near panic as they helped him kneel on a blood red cushion in the middle of the room.

Val was only vaguely aware of the witnessing priests forming a circle against the walls of the room; all his attention was devoted to the one priest who did not wear his ceremonial robes, only his braids marking him as a priest at all. Tall and dark-haired, his skin glistening with the same oils as Val's, the young priest slowly approached the centre of the circle, finally kneeling on the white cushion set just opposite the red one the Prince occupied. "Are you ready?" he asked, repeating the High Priest's question as he lifted the ceremonial dagger.

The ornately carved handle felt warm and solid as Val took the knife in his hand, its weight oddly reassuring. Murmuring, "I'm ready," the Prince reversed the knife and sliced open his palm, quickly, before he could think too much about it and lose his courage.

For a moment all he could do was gasp, letting the knife clatter to the floor. But then the priest took his hand, gently bringing it to his lips; the feel of his warm, rough tongue scraping over the shallow cut was excruciating, but it centred Val and he managed to find his voice. "I dedicate my blood, that it may become The Earthly Incarnation of the River of Life."

Somewhere, a gong tolled resonantly, and when the priest loosed Val's hand, the cut was closed, the bleeding stopped.

Smiling gently now, the priest asked again, "Are you ready?"

"I'm ready," Val said shakily, leaning forward.

Their lips met, the only point of contact between them. Awkward at first, suddenly quite aware of the witnessing priests, Val quickly regained confidence. Parting his lips, he began to explore, marveling at the softness of the priest's lips and at the roughness of his tongue, tasting his own blood, and the faint sweetness of ceremonial wine. It was only when one of the witnesses coughed politely that Val remembered his purpose and forced himself to pull away. "I dedicate... I dedicate my breath, that it may become The Earthly Incarnation of the Song of the Gods."

Again, the gong rang, and Val sighed in relief that flubbing his lines hadn't upset the ritual.

The priest stretched and rose to a crouch, almost touching Val. "Are you ready?"

Unfolding his legs from underneath him, Val leaned back on his elbows. "I'm ready."

Val watched raptly as the priest took his heel in one hand and kissed each of his toes, one after the other, feather light little touches that made the Prince shiver. Inch by slow inch, the priest caressed Val's skin with lips and tongue and fingers, up one leg and down the other, bypassing the one place Val most wanted to be touched. Soon, the priest's lips and hands glistened with the oils that had been rubbed into Val's skin.

When the priest reached Val's belly, the Prince stifled a laugh and squirms, distracted from his building need by those tickling little kisses, by the torturous brush of the priest's braids dancing over his skin as the priest kissed his way up Val's chest. Again the priest bypassed the most sensitive parts, but the warmth of his breath and the touch of his mouth on Val's throat was quite enough to loose a moan that the priest quickly swallowed with a kiss. "Shhh, little Prince. Not much longer now."

Backing away, the priest took Val's hand and slowly drew him back upright, kissing his palm, then his wrist, up his forearm, lingering a bit at the crook of his elbow. As he made it to Val's shoulder, he flashed a brief, almost impish smile before helping Val to kneel again and slipping around to his back. Excruciatingly slowly, the priest traced the lines of the Royal Mark, from the back of Val's neck down. As the priest reached the last flourish, at the base of Val's spine, the Prince whispered, "I dedicate my skin, that it may be The Earthly Incarnation of the Holy Firmament."

And the gong sounded again, louder this time.

One last time, the priest asked, "Are you ready?"

"Ohh yes," Val breathed dazedly.

One arm going around Val's waist and pulling him close, the priest once again caught Val's lips in a kiss, one that quickly grew heated and almost desperate. Absorbed in the kiss, Val let the priest pull him up to straddle his lap, feeling the priest's own hardness pressing against his thigh.

"Hold on to me," the priest whispered, and Val obediently twined his arms around the priest's neck. Letting go his hold on Val, the priest slid one hand down to the base of Val's tail, stroking it and using that gentle grip to pull the Prince's hips against him, trapping Val's erection against his belly. Fingers already slick with oil walked slowly down Val's back, gathering the last traces of oil there before dipping down to the Prince's cleft.

Val lipped one of the priest's ears gently as he was lifted a little higher, sex rubbing against the priest's oiled body. Even as he wrung a delighted little purr out of the priest, Val felt those probing fingers enter him slowly, so slowly, stroking and rubbing and stretching until he thought he'd go mad. After an eternity, the priest let go of Val's tail and once more wrapped a supporting arm around the Prince's waist, lifting him and bringing him back down one slow inch at a time.

Clinging to the priest, now, Val struggled to relax, to concentrate on the feel of the priest's skin under his hands, the softness of his furred ears. It was almost a surprise when the relentless push and pressure levelled off. They stayed locked like that for a heartbeat, then two, the priest holding still, for all that he was trembling a little with his own need, until Val grew used to the sensations.

As discomfort faded and blurred into pleasure, Val needed the priest's guiding hands less and less, lifting himself and falling back, again and again. The witnessing priests, the cloying incense, the room itself vanished into insignificance, only the rising pleasure and the priest moving inside him retained any meaning.

The priest pulled Val down for a savage kiss as he came inside the Prince, his cry lost as they each drew blood from the other. Shuddering still with the aftershocks of pleasure, the priest broke free of the kiss and licked Val's ears, his face, finally kissing him again, with gentleness rather than ferocity.

Giving the priest a little more time to recover his poise, Val carefully lifted himself again, this time pulling away entirely. Gasping faintly as he found himself so suddenly empty, Val felt strangely alone, despite the presence of the priest, and the watchers. But hardly a moment passed before the priest pulled him into an embrace once more, then gently laid him back so that his head was pillowed on the white cushion.

The Prince brushed his fingers over the priest's cheek, and received a smile and a playful little bite before the priest pulled back to kneel between Val's legs. In stark contrast to his slow, deliberate claiming of Val, now the priest took the length of Val's erection into his mouth in one, abrupt stroke.

Writhing, tortured by the priest's gentle lips and rough tongue, Val only belatedly realised that it was the candles that had begun to dim, and not his own vision. Dawn was so close, and the ritual not yet complete... the priest's urgency infected Val, and he bucked, thrusting into the priest's mouth hard, both too much in need and too afraid to care for the priest's comfort.

The candle closest to Val guttered and went out, and the priest wrapped his hand around the base of Val's sex in a grip that was almost painful. One near-brutal stroke, then another, and a second candle flickered and died. Val yowled as, without the slightest warning, the priest's teeth scraped against his sensitive flesh. Distress and pain quickly became something else entirely, the light of the remaining candles drowned out by the sheet lightning that tore across Val's vision. Burning, writhing, screaming, Val peaked, and choked out at last, "And I dedicate my seed, that it may become The Earthly Incarnation of the Vital Spark!"

The tolling of the gong seemed to shake the world, and Val only barely felt it as the priest left him and others came to lift him and gently wrap him in a soft robe. The very last of the candles was failing as Val knelt, alone once more in the centre of the circle.

"Through blood and breath and skin and seed, this flesh is consecrated. In pleasure and in pain, this is the vessel of the gods, sacred and inviolable, heaven's voice on Earth. Through his rule, we are blessed." The High Priest bowed low, his ageing bones creaking, and as one the circle of priests dropped to their knees.

Dressed now in his own ceremonial robes, the young priest returned and helped Val to his feet, as the High Priest straightened and said gently, "Go and greet your people, Prince Valiant, as a man and as Heir Apparent."

The cheering started before Val even made it out the temple door, the people's enthusiasm blunted not at all by the dishevelled, shaky state of their Prince. Smiling helplessly, bursting with elation despite his exhaustion, Val made his way down the temple stairs. The people knelt as he approached, but still they reached out to Val, and those whose hands he touched burst into happy tears. It was completely overwhelming, and so when Val caught sight of a most familiar guardsman kneeling beside the path he stopped, and pulled Arre to his feet.

Val made the rest of the walk from temple to palace with one arm around the shoulders of his consort-to-be, and if anyone objected to the break in tradition, they were quite thoroughly drowned out by the cheering of the rest of the crowd.

"Come on, Your Holy Highness," Arre murmured as the reached the inner courtyard at last, out of view of the crowd. "Let's get you to bed."

"Bed?" With a wicked smile and a playful bite on Arre's shoulder, Val said thoughtfully, "You know, suddenly I'm not at all tired."