Dalenar the Brave and Mightee and Wise
by cosmere_play, 700 words, rated Explicit for brief description of sex
Enjoy this fresh crem. It's not part of any challenge or anything, it's just something I thought was funny and stupid and I wanted to inflict it on all of you. It's also a very silly love letter to the Stormlight fanfic community. You can read the whole thing on ao3 here, or read the first part below, rated Mature for a brief sex ed lesson.
It was the end of a long day of meetings and decision-making, and Dalinar found himself looking forward to some alone time. Navani would be spending part of the evening with little Gav, and that gave Dalinar time to turn his attention to a more personal practice: writing.
He heard the sound of papers shuffling as he stepped into his study. He froze, staring. Renarin stood beside his desk, one hand clutching a page, his face a mask of embarrassment.
"Is that…?" Dalinar started to ask, but he could already tell that it was. Renarin had seen the project he was working on. His personal writing project.
Renarin, to his credit, nodded, putting the page down in its place on the desk. "I'm sorry, Father," he said softly, looking downwards. "Um, I thought it might be a memoir, and I got carried away. I read most of it."
Dalinar's cheeks flushed with heat. He opened his mouth, then closed it again wordlessly. Blood of my fathers, how do I explain this?
Renarin met his eyes briefly, then looked down again, pulling out his cube to fiddle with. "I think…I think it's good that you are trying out fiction writing," he said. "Nohadon and...Dalenar's journey to Urithiru is, uh…definitely a unique story."
Dalinar closed his eyes. Had he gotten as far as the part where…
"Well, I think I'm gonna go now," Renarin said.
Dalinar sighed, composing himself. "Son, you must have come here for some reason," he said. "Out with it." Anything to not talk about this.
"Honestly, Father, I don't remember what I came here to tell you," Renarin said, edging past him.
Renarin stopped, as if changing his mind, and put a hand on Dalinar's shoulder, much like Dalinar would do if he were imparting a piece of wisdom. He saw a measure of concern in his son's eyes.
"What?" Dalinar asked.
"I, um," Renarin frowned. "I just want to make sure you know that spit isn't the best lubricant for anal sex. You—I mean—your character, Dalenar, should use oil."
Dalinar huffed and stammered. Spit had been good enough for his elites back in the day, but he wasn't going to say that to his storming son.
The young man stared at him a moment longer, his gaze burrowing into Dalinar's very soul. "Afan oil is best," the young man added.
It was everything Dalinar could do to keep eye contact. If he looked away, it would mean he'd conceded the point, and he would not be intimidated.
Finally Renarin gave him a paternal pat on the shoulder, and left.
Storms, I should've told him not to tell anyone, Dalinar thought.
He sat down at his desk and shuffled through the pages of his story. Everything was still in order. For a brief moment he considered burning it, but he didn't want to take the chance that the Almighty might still be alive enough to confuse it for an offering.
No. He was determined not to let his shame overcome his enjoyment of his personal writing. He did say it was unique. That was something.
Instead, he informed his guards that no one should enter the room, and sat down again to review the most recent page.
He smiled to himself as he read. This is perfect just as it is, he thought, and slid a hand down his pants.
Want to read the fic that Dalinar wrote? Warning: it's rated Explicit! Click here and scroll to the end!
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