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He thinks little of it the first time Lunafreya accidentally wakes him as she crawls into his bed one night, seeking shelter from the nightmares and loneliness. They have been in the imperial capital less than a week and they have nothing of home left except each other; if anything, Ravus feels guilty for not checking in on her first. The rooms - that they have been assured are rooms, and not cells - are opulent enough, but there is a chill that runs through the very walls of the keep and the harsh fluorescent lights that burn to look at do little to keep the shadows sitting in the corners at bay. It is no wonder Lunafreya cannot sleep, and Ravus chides himself for not realising sooner and letting her make her way down the cold corridor to his room alone.
Lunafreya hesitates as she settles in under the sheet beside him, as if afraid of being caught sneaking out of her room. She has good reason to be; the men who killed their mother patrol the halls she has just walked down, barefoot and trembling, and they would have done nothing to abate her nightmares. Ravus stays quiet, feigning sleep, and sets his own grief aside to gently rest an arm over her, pulling her in close and safe. She settles, and it isn’t long before her breathing sinks into the deep and even lull of sleep, and he presses a gentle, reassuring kiss against the top of her hair. If Ravus can do nothing else for her, he can do this.
It isn’t until the third night, after the pair of them have finally managed to claim something resembling rest, that Ravus starts to have doubts about letting Lunafreya sleep in his bed. He has no doubt that by now the guards have noticed and deigned the nocturnal wanderings of a twelve year old girl to be of no consequence to them, so it was not that fear that was starting to make him feel uneasy.
It was Lunafreya herself.
They had slept in the same bed on several occasions, many years before, falling asleep together as their mother read them a story, or when some violent storm had rattled the windows and she had come seeking safety and comfort, as she did now. It was hardly a new thing. But he had not been sixteen then, and the warmth of a body beside him had meant nothing more than just that; warmth.
But he is sixteen now, and it is heat he feels as Lunafreya’s sleeping form presses unknowingly into his. He stirs from the edge of slumber, initially only aware of a vague discomfort, a low knot in his stomach that he is not yet conscious enough to place. It isn’t until he shifts slightly in an attempt to dislodge the feeling that he starts to realise why; he is half hard, cock twitching against his sister's thigh as they lay side by side. Reflexively, running on instinct and his mind still half asleep, his hips jerk forward slightly, seeking friction and pressure. He almost sighs in relief, but then the realisation hits, and it is bile and not air that rises in his throat. He freezes, cheeks burning hot with shame and something else he won’t put a name to as he tries to swallow the disgust down, before slowly rolling his body back away from her. His arm is still trapped under her head, but at least on his back he can claim to himself that there is some semblance of appropriate space between them.
Ravus closes his eyes, trying to ignore every one of the myriad feelings swirling in his head and throughout his body, and takes deep steady breaths, trying to centre himself. It is natural, he tells himself. He has woken up like this dozens of times over the past few months, it is just hormones and nothing to do with her.
The breathing does not help, and he briefly considers waking Lunafreya and discreetly ushering her back to her own room. But what can he even tell her? Nothing that would stop her from thinking she is being a burden by disturbing his sleep, and he cannot put that on her. So he does nothing, and lays there waiting for either his mind or his cock to go back to sleep, because what else can he do?
In the harsh light of what passes for daytime in the keep, his mind is almost his own. Lunafreya speaks little, but that does not surprise Ravus given the constant presence of the guards. The Empire no doubt has expectations for their newly acquired Oracle, but no one has come to speak to them, or make demands, so they are left to wait and be watched over by their guards. The harsh truth of the waking world is almost enough to drown out the memory of their warm, shared bed. Almost, but not quite, for in truth there is little else that he can think about that isn’t equally painful. So he lets the guilt tug at the frayed edges of his mind, and the tension sit in his veins like ice, because while Lunafreya says little, she does not avert her eyes when he looks at her, and for now that is enough.
By the seventh night, however, Ravus feels as if his sanity is starting to fracture.
This time when he wakes, Lunafreya has already climbed into his bed and apparently settled back to sleep. His body is already curved protectively around her, apparently of its own accord, and she is clutching onto the arm he draped over her, as though this is how they fell asleep together. Perhaps they did, and he is just too sleep deprived to remember, though he cannot remember hearing her enter the room.
The small part of his mind that is still desperately trying to cling to reason tells him he should move, but he is so fucking tired. He is tired, and cold, and he does not want to move. He does not want to let go of Lunafreya because he knows she could be taken from him at any moment, the Empire will take her at any moment, and he cannot lose her.
But he is so fucking hard it hurts, and they are curled so tightly together there is no way she could miss the erection currently pressed against her ass cheeks. How could he explain that to her? She would be understanding, because of course she would be - she was gracious and forgiving to the core, but would she understand? How much had their mother had the chance to teach her about her own body before -
He shuts the thought down before it can spiral further, but it’s enough of a distraction to let rationality finally gain some ground. He gives her a gentle, almost apologetic squeeze, making the most of the moment before he attempts to extricate himself and retreat to the relative privacy of the bathroom.
That was the plan, at least, but as soon as he moves to pull his arm back, Lunafreya grips tightly, nails digging into his forearm as she tries to pull him back over her.
“Luna…?”
“Please stay…” Her voice is soft, muffled almost entirely by the pillow and for a moment Ravus is almost sure he dreamt it, it sounds so far away.
“I’m not leaving, I just…” He tries to lift his hips away from her as he props himself up on his free elbow in a feeble attempt to create space.
“Stay…” she pleads, and Ravus is powerless to deny her.
He does his best to ignore the way his cock twitches as it rests between her buttocks when he settles back down next to her and instead tries to focus on gently encouraging her to let go of the vice-like grip she has on his arm.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of her head.
Lunafreya’s fingers finally uncurl slightly, and her shoulders drop slightly as she lets the tension melt away, but she does not let go entirely. They stay like that for a moment in soft silence, and all Ravus can hear is her breathing and the hammering of his own heartbeat.
He is about to close his eyes again when he feels Lunafreya move. She uses her hands to move his over her chest and pushes down, wordlessly encouraging him to knead at her breast.
“Luna…” His voice is more urgent now, almost panicked.
A whimpered Please is all she replies with, and whatever reason Ravus has left finally unravels. He palms gently at the small mound of flesh under his fingers, tentatively at first but growing bolder as Lunafreya shivers and arches slightly into his touch. He knows he shouldn’t, he knows she shouldn’t even know what she’s asking for, but she knows enough to ask and right now he is too hard to think about it anymore than that. Lunafreya is the one wriggling out of her nightdress, and that is permission enough for him.
Once the robe is gone, he brushes his thumb over the nipple lightly, in a gesture he somehow hopes is comforting and presses his lips against her exposed shoulder, stifling a moan against her skin as he finally, finally starts to grind against her. Even through her nightdress and his boxers, the relief the friction offers is almost intoxicating, and it takes every last shred of his rapidly withering self control to be gentle and not rut against her like some ravenous beast.
Lunafreya trembles in his arms, whimpering softly as she squeezes his hand encouragingly before trying to push it down from her breast between her legs. Ravus offers no resistance, letting her guide his fingers down over the flat of her belly and to the waistband of her underwear. He hesitates, vaguely aware he has no real idea what he is doing from this point in, but Lunafreya at least seems to know what she wants him to do and her hand continues to guide him down under the elastic and between her legs. He wonders how often she might have explored herself like this before, if she had thought of him when she did, or if this was perhaps the reason she came into his room in the first place. Despite everything, he knows he does not have the nerve to ask.
He strokes her gently, paying attention to the way she squirms as his fingers run over her folds and then between them, slickness gathering on his fingers as she starts to rock into his touch. He takes his time, teasing at her entrance for a moment before curling his fingers back up along her slit in long, attentive strokes, enjoying the way she shudders against him. When the tip of his fingers finally brushes against the sensitive bud, she finally lets out a moan, and the sound is almost enough to make Ravus come right there and then.
She arches eagerly into his touch, her hand reaching back to try and push at his boxers. He whispers gentle reassurance in her ear as he pauses his ministrations to push the fabric away, guiding her to put her knees together as he trails soft kisses down her throat. He pumps his fist against the leaking tip of his cock a few times before carefully lining it up between her legs and pushing forward, slowly dragging the head along her folds. He pauses for a moment, carefully studying Luna’s expression, waiting for her to stop him, but her eyes simply flutter closed and another moan falls from her lips, so he lets himself thrust in earnest and his own moans aren’t far behind. She is wet enough that it has already started to coat her thighs, and his shaft moves easily between them, his hand holding her hip steady as he rocks into her. He is tempted - so fucking tempted - to shift her slightly so he can thrust up completely into her virgin cunt, to feel her tight heat clamp down around him, but he knows he does not have the right. She is still a Princess, and while it is a ridiculous line to draw while in the middle of rutting between his sister’s legs, her maidenhead is still a valuable bargaining chip, and he cannot take that from her.
Besides, he is not going to last much longer as it is.
Ravus buries his face in the crook of her neck as he picks up the pace of his thrusts, his own precum now mixing with Lunafreya’s wetness to slide easily between her folds, the tip of his cock catching her clit at the height of each thrust. He can feel the muscles in her thighs trembling against his own, her breath coming in short ragged pants as she pulls her face away from the pillow to let her head fall back against his. His hand is shaking as he moves it back between her legs, pressing his palm against her mound and letting her grind against it in time with his thrusts. Over her shoulder, he can see the head of his dick as it moves in and out from between the pale, creamy flesh of her thighs and glistening with her juices. He watches, carving the sight of it into his memory. Even if she never lets him do this again, the memory of it will be enough.
Heat coils in his stomach and he can feel his thighs tensing as his hips start to stutter, pushing forward erratically as he approaches his release. His fingers seek out her clit again, determined to make sure she finishes first, and he barely has to press down against it before Luna’s entire body shakes as she climaxes, her hand flying to her mouth to stifle the moan.
Ravus is not far behind her, his hips jerking in short shallow thrusts before the coil snaps and he shoots thick ropes of cum over her thighs, his own grunts buried in her shoulder. They both sink down into the bed panting, his arm still wrapped tightly around her and cock between her thighs as they catch their breath, neither speaking.
He wonders if he should say something, but Luna seems content resting in his arms. Despite everything, in this moment with him she seems to be at peace.
If Ravus can do nothing else for her, he can do this.