"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
The few long moments between his question for Jah-Lilah and her response are gut-wrenching. Amet knows that he has asked more from the nomadic wytch than he ever has before ─ more, even, than his desperate plea all those years ago for her to care for the newly-motherless Takhar. Jah-Lilah is more soul than physical being; she cannot be contained or bridled, she cannot be asked to remain trapped in a cage no matter how ornate its gilded bars.
So when she had finally acquiesced, Amet knew that her agreement held more weight than she had let on. He had embraced her excitedly, had pressed his golden scales to her flame-red chest and squeezed her tight with his neck flung over hers. "I don't need you to grow roots, Jah, I would never clip your wings." And with that, they had journeyed from the quiet Beach and back to his first true love ─ the lake of Hyaline.
Days have passed since then and Amet has been content to roam the borders of his home with a full heart. Jah-Lilah's presence coupled with the familiar scenery of his long-loved home do wonders for the stallion who had spent the last few years full of strife and discontent. In fact, it slowly comes to remind him that he needs more excitement in his life ─ he has spent enough time reveling in all of the ways his life has been thriving over the last few weeks that he has not gone out and done anything to get his heart racing and his blood bumping.
Which means that it's about time to find Jah-Lilah again, partly to see how she is settling into the sanctuary and partly (mostly) to selfishly take all of her time for himself.
It doesn't take him long to find the soothsayer. He is drawn to her inexplicably. And luckily for him, her close vicinity to the lake today gives him the easy opportunity to increase the speed of his gait until his gilded akhal-teke frame is galloping across the clearing and bounding into the lake in front of the red wytch. His swift entry into the water splashes the liquid all around them, effectively coating the pair in the cool autumn lake.
With easy laughter, he spins his dragonhide body in a circle until he is grinning coyly at his closest friend. "You know what I was thinking, Jah?" He pauses for a brief second as a gruff nicker slips from his maw. "I think it's time we go for another vision walk."
I can still hear you saying you would never break the chain
Can I go on my way without you? How do I know?
He had been overjoyed at her response, mirth exploding from him like a ticking time-bomb, and he holds nothing back from her. This is the way she wanted it, the way it always should be, should have been. When he snatched her up and held her so close to him, she could have lost herself in the tangles of his mane for all eternity. For now she would have to settle for these fleeting private moments. His promises of freedom are sincere, and she believes his every word. They had said their goodbyes once more to Circinae, then left the somber realm of purgatory.
The crimson singer had found a place nestled in the bosom of Hyaline surrounded by a group of especially pink cherry blossom trees and decided to make it her temporary abode. My flower child has begun the process of building her nest, and with each day that passes, she finds herself more and more at ease in Hyaline. It is this growing comfort and confidence that encourages her to venture out to the shore of the very same body of water she had healed Ciri in. As she searches the edge of the water for trinkets that call to her, the faraway yet unmistakable sound of footsteps pauses her concentration on this peaceful evening.
A flash of gold reflecting the rays of the fading sun appears on the horizon, and she breaks into a toothy grin despite trying to stifle it. The Dragon-King cometh again. Too late she realizes he fully plans on barreling straight through the lake, a move that her own bull-headed Takhar would probably have made as well. Scrambling to gain footing on the muddy terrain, she can’t escape him (ever) quick enough. A wall of water overtakes them both, and with a surprised yet delighted squeal she shies sideways, pleased to see him. As he turns to face her, water runs between his scales and down his pelt, giving him the illusion that he’s covered in jewels, and Jah-Lilah knows deep down in her bones he has never been more handsome to her.
Dark mane plastered to her neck and tail clinging to her haunches, she makes a face at him, not fooled by the innocence he pretends to still be in possession of. Snorting, she licks her lips and raises an eyebrow at his request. Tilting her head as she contemplates, a wave of insecurity floods her system, and the feeling is foreign to her. It is then replaced with a sensation of gratitude as she realizes how fortunate she is to have this stallion still standing at her side after all they’ve been through, both together and apart.
Motioning for him to follow her, she plants a nip on his thigh and saunters past him. Keeping her pace steady so they may walk together, she leads the way to her den. He has always been this ship, adrift in an ocean of insecurities and infidelities, thunderstorms of pain trying to sink him, take him under, but she has always been his lighthouse. The voluptuous mare guides him to shore even now, finally ready for him. He had been there all along she realizes, and so the feral being inside her senses a chink in the armor and has started clawing its way to the surface. Raising her dark tail slightly to allow pheremones to permeate the air, she half-halts, emerald eyes boring into his gold ones. A moment’s pause, and she has fallen.
Stepping into him, she presses her soft muzzle to his, allowing once-taboo emotions to emerge. His whiskers tickle her nose, and she pulls away with a giggle. Blinking her long eyelashes, it is now her turn to be coy. Raising her muzzle to whisper to him, her breath is warm as it tickles the sensitive hair that grows on the edge of his ear, her voice is sensual and husky as she at last responds to his simple request of her.
”No, my Dragon-King. The things I want you to feel i want you to feeeeeeel. Raw, uninhibited, real. Nothing else but you and I tonight, if you’re sure this is what you want.”
If I go on my way without you, where you I go?
she is like a cat in the dark, and then she is the darkness
Amet doesn't expect to catch the red soothsayer unaware, and he doesn't ─ but with her hooves planted firmly in mud and her bright eyes concentrating on the sand beneath the rippling lake, he's still able to successfully send a wave of cool water over her frame and soak her. He, of course, is not safe from the water either, but that's not the point.
Laughter falls loud and genuine from his ajar maw as he pivots to watch Jah's reaction, the water running in rivulets down his scaled face. He tosses his head skyward as he grants the red wytch with his first inquiry, removing a now-soaked forelock from his line of sight as he nickers gruffly at her. She snorts in response and he feigns an eye roll at the face she makes at him but beneath his playful exterior, Amet's heartbeat races with a mixture of uncertainty and excitement.
Unfortunately for the recently re-crowned King of Hyaline, the red wytch does not want to answer him right away. Instead, she motions for him to follow her and without hesitation, he does ─ though, admittedly, he lacks surprise at her response. Ever the mystery woman, she is, and it heightens his excitement. The dragon follows the flame, his ears pressed forward with intrigue and his chin tucked to his chest in a primal attempt to flex his rippling muscles. He watches Jah-Lilah as they move from the lake and towards the copse of cherry blossom trees that stand in the distance, though not just in an overtly sexual way.
He thinks of how they'd met, where they'd gone, how they'd each been there for each other through anything and everything. She had raised his eldest son as her own. She had been the Amet's support through his loss of Ciri, of Tangerine, of Eione... through his loss of Hyaline, and then through the ice age in Eternal.
Now, still, she is his support as he reclaims the throne in Hyaline.
And it's about damn time that she knows how he feels.
But she beats him to it, always one step ahead of him in her infinite wisdom and heat flushes simultaneously in his face and his groin at the way she purrs beneath the blossoming cherry blossoms. His nostrils instinctively flare at the scent of her and his own laughter echoes hers as she dances a playful tango away from him, but only briefly; the space between them does not remain for long as the red wytch raises her muzzle to his ear, pressed forward so hard that it nearly hurts, and whispers words that are just for him.
"I've never wanted anything more," he finally says when his heart starts to beat again, his words slow and thick and full of certainty. "But am I what you want?" He is almost hesitant to ask it ─ he wants her in her entirety, her body and her beautiful soul, but they both know that he is more grounded to Hyaline than any place he's ever been and she is tied down to no place. He could never ask her to stay, never keep her tied to one place, but he needed to know more than anything that he is what she wants.
Set sail with me, a misty lady, I’ll set your spirit free.
He gave her a run for her money when it came to passion, to zest for life. They loved with the same reckless abandon, neither one of them knew how to do anything less than one hundred percent, it was a blessing and a curse. So many times she had been hurt living her life this way, carefree and neglectful of consequences. When it came to love and lust though, there was nobody who could out-run Jah-Lilah. This time seems different though.
Everytime they cross paths the memories rush back to her, the feelings that stir inside grow restless with a strange longing, threatening to break the levy she’s built around her heart. The red mare was ready to open up the gates. She never was good at holding back, at self control. And here she was again prepared to show all her cards, but the emotional young stud made the game too fun for her. Jah wasn’t quite prepared to concede just yet. After all, isn’t this what he came for? Holding back a smile, she lets the seconds tick by, wondering for a moment if they are agonizingly slow for him as they are her.
Everything she has seen, all the wonders in the world, all the stars in the sky pale in comparison to him this evening. The thousands of creatures in Beqanna, the billions of beings that roam the Earth-Mother’s back, they are all non-existant to her now. There is nobody in the world but the Dragon-King and the Gold-Dust Woman. Life is on pause when he nears her, and even now she prays that this is no illusion, no hallucination, no fever dream. Looking back she nearly laughs aloud at all the time she’s wasted fooling around when he was here all along. The wytch hasn’t felt this way since she coupled with the Wolf-of-the-Water so long ago, and the black prince ages before her. Go on, Jah, third time’s the charm.
He hesitates, reining himself in and searching her eyes for answers. The seasoned mare can sense his uncertainty before his lips part to inquire about her own shattered heart, ripped to shreds and stitched back together time and time again. It mirrors his own, two halves of the same weary soul, finding refuge and solace finally in one who has shared the same agony. Sighing softly, a tender expression finds its’ way to her face and she almost chuckles as she speaks softly, daring not to disrupt the air around them.
”Oh my King, you keep wondering if you’re the one I’m wanting, but you never needed to doubt. The Earth-Mother’s spell had no effect on this old enchantress, it was just an excuse to have my freedom again. Do you remember? How it was before The Wind tethered me to his soul?”
Ignoring the voice in the back of her mind that is warning her it’s all too good to be true, to be hers, she maneuvers closer to him. The time for politeness and personal boundaries had long since passed, and she wants the dragon to make her his. Greedy lips nibble and bite, making their way down his scaled neck as if it is she who is the predator. If the copper mare has her way, they will devour each other tonight beneath the watchful eye of the pale moon.
New love to find, although we’ll leave another behind.
There is only Jah-Lilah and the love he feels for her. Her presence is intoxicating, overwhelming, all-encompassing. He follows behind her, a moth to flame, as she beckons him closer and closer to the den she had begun to build for herself within Hyaline. The over-the-shoulder glances the soothsayer gifts to him draw deep chuckles from the gilded stallion as he is coaxed further and further into her honeytrap, settling not soon after beneath the heavy boughs of the cherry blossoms.
The stallion reaches his copper and gold head out to the red woman, pressing his soft muzzle to her cheek with a gentle sigh as his concerns are finally vocalized and out in the open. Amet had always wanted someone to love fully and unconditionally, someone who could return the same feelings for him with no doubts or fettered emotions ─ and he knows that Jah-Lilah can be that someone. But he could never forgive himself if she felt caged by his own roots, the ones that keep him tied to Hyaline by choice of his heart more than any necessity or obligation that may exist.
And he knows she understands ─ she always does. She knows his heart and his soul better than even he does. But he still needs to know, needs to hear that he is not keeping her here with him despite a tiny voice in her head that wishes to run or remain really, truly free.
He needs to know that she will not resent him in the future, when his heart is tied to both her and Hyaline. He would follow her to the ends of the earth, but his spirit is not as free and full of wanderlust as the red wytch's; he wouldn't feel whole without the sanctuary, just as he wouldn't feel whole without her.
How difficult it will be to love a spirit so free and wild.
How ready he is for the challenge.
Her warm words, smooth like silk, float to his pricked ears and console the worries that had brought him strife. Incredulous, he raises an eyebrow at the red wytch and whuffs warmly against her neck at her confession. Aya's magic had opened his eyes to his true feelings for Jah-Lilah, ones that had been hidden beneath things that no longer matter ─ he had never considered that she had felt this way for him all along.
"I remember," he says gruffly as her blunted teeth work their way down his gilded neck and to his withers. He shivers. "So beautiful, so free, so wild..." his words are whispered and private, only for her, as he peers over his shoulder at her with molten amber eyes. "I will never tether you, Jah. I could never. Do you believe me?"
His heart aches with its love for her and suddenly the dam breaks, no longer able to withstand the strength of it. He pivots beneath the tree boughs to face her and nips gently, playfully, at her muscled neck as he moves his gilded body closer, nostrils flaring instinctively at the red wytch's primal scent. "Let me show you."
There is a level of trust and understanding that is unique to the lovers. The golden stallion thrives on order, lives for the security that lies deep in the heart of Hyaline, finds comfort in the organization of the court, and then there is Jah-Lilah. The mare is wild, flows with the river and changes gear like the four seasons, yet here they are. Perhaps there is a grain of truth in the old adage of “opposites attract”, for where there are contradictory moments, there is also balance. If the sorceress has learned anything from the Earth-Mother, it is that the universe requires balance. Perhaps then, so does Jah-Lilah.
Serenity sets in when she is with him, and they move in constant harmony. It bangs on her heart like a drum, and the love that flows through her body now more than ever is ready to meet the world. The mare is certain that no matter how far she roams and wherever sore hooves may take her, the only path she’ll need to remember is the one that leads back to the Dragon-King. Hot on her trail again, he brushes soft lips to her skin and the blood rushes hot to her cheeks and her loins, causing her breathing to increase notably.
The man is worried, the emotion sneaks out in between heated breaths, and she finds it endearing. My red wytch can almost taste it, and she knows what it is. The freedom that made him love and desire her so desperately, is the same freedom he thinks she will forfeit by pledging herself to him. Boys can be so daft sometimes. Smiling both at him and at her internal dialog, she flits around him so smoothly it’s like she is floating. The emotion she’s experiencing for him right now makes her feel like she could fly if she truly wanted to. When she opens her mouth to give him confessions that match his own, he cannot hide his surprise and delight.
It is getting so burdensome attempting to conceal her own elation the further down she tumbles for the desert-born stud. He is close to her then, his breath fervid and tinted slightly with the odor of clover. He is driving her mad.
Those amber eyes lock onto her emerald ones, and for a moment, everything is frozen. That milk-and-honey baritone finds its’ way to her ears, and he all but falls to his knees attempting to express his sincerity to her. The earnest look on his face nearly breaks her heart, and she tilts her head as she sighs longingly. Bobbing her head invitingly, she can feel her hormones surge. Biting her lip, she swats her tail hard at invisible insects then raises it straight up. The tangled strands rest on her croup, allowing her scent to fully permeate the air. Come closer… the gentle breeze seems to whisper. His imagination? Or an illusion of the senses conjured by the crimson magicker? My mare tries to put his mind at ease.
”What’s understood doesn’t have to be explained. I’m not like the others before, my king. Don’t forget that I believed in you when you didn’t even believe in yourself.” Her words cut short by his abrupt movement, and her eyes devour him as she watches him pivot and move with ease. His muscles flex and relax beneath those impeccable gleaming scales, throwing moonlight all around the thicket as it reflects off of their smooth surface. She draws a breath sharply, ears perked and all attention on him. He demands of her, aims to prove himself, and although she will allow him to, she so enjoys the dance of courtship. When he reaches for her he is jovial, but there is a new, more ancient gleam in those golden eyes. She sees it, and she wants it.
The native soothsayer has awakened a fresh, unusual piece of the stallion he has never shown her before, but she knew lurked inside of him all along. Bits and pieces had reared their head every now and again when he was pushed, but now the creature emerges and proceeds to take hold of the reins. The woman chomps her jaws and raises her head, submitting to him. Leaving herself vulnerable and at the mercy of the Dragon-King, she gives him everything. When teeth meet flesh, she squeals excitedly and paws the ground with her foreleg. Pressing her head to his left side, she rubs her face and jaw down his shoulder as if she’s scratching an itch, but she is swapping scents, marking and being marked. He will wear her everywhere, as she will wear him.
Snorting and tossing her head, she proceeds to start nibbling down his barrel, making her way to the thin skin on the underside of his belly. When she has lipped and nuzzled enough of his belly for her liking, she travels back north, licking and chewing at his flank. Sighing deeply, she leans into him like she has done so many other times, but now everything is different. Her words are mumbled into the skin of his hip and she slurs like she is intoxicated. Her voice is low, barely above a whisper, but certainly he can hear her.
Their path has been woven together for so long that it's nearly impossible for the king of Hyaline to think of a time before Jah-Lilah. He was a different creature before her, without dragon scales and nihilism. Without confidence and experience. Amet has transformed into an entirely new being under the woman's watchful emerald eye; he had grown into himself and into the ideas he had wished to feed into the world. He had learned love and heartache. He had learned despair and elation. And with each rise and fall of the tumultuous sea, Jah-Lilah had always been there.
But this experience, tucked away together in the red wytch's grotto, is not sullied by the years they have already spent together. Instead, it's enhanced by them. The soothsayer's microexpressions are familiar to Amet, easy to read and enticing. The small grin that turns the corners of her lips is full of guile and sensuality; he knows she's playing a game by hiding away the immensity of her feelings, and it's a game that he is happy to partake in. It pushes his excitement closer to the edge and generates a buzz across his bright dragonhide with each gentle touch or exhale that graces his skin.
And when she quells his worries without hesitation or pause, his own elation erupts into something more primal now that it does not have his uncertainties to hold it back. They melt into each other, molten gold and lava, as they begin nipping and teasing and marking. The gold dust woman's blunted teeth roam over his flank and to his unprotected underbelly, roiling heat in his loins and a greedy desire in his heart. Amet reacts instinctively, his own teeth tugging at the pieces of her that he can reach as he strides forward on lean legs ─ slowly, painfully ─ to reach further and further until the wispy strands of her tousled tail, flung over her croup, brush against his own maw.
"I love you, too, Jah," he tells her swiftly and with no preamble, with no hesitation in his gruff voice or in his own affirmation of truth. He had known it all along ─ it was about time that he say it aloud. And to hear her, his red wytch, speak the words brings him heightened joy that reflects in the fervency of his touch and the heat of his breath.
When he rounds her hindquarters and rises to cover her, he does so with an unbridled primal need. There is no reason for him to be gentle with the wild woman ─ he knows she will give just as she receives, with an unconditional wildness that he has only ever seen from her.
Amet, awash with moonlight and sweat, flags his long tousled tail and settles his weight upon her back as the tidal wave of their pleasure rises together and finally crashes. With her scent mixed together with his, he finally feels sated and contented, knowing full well that they are both finally in the right place.
Can we go all the way together? Please let it be so.
All her experience in all her various lives still hadn’t prepared her for this, for him. The mare had begun to wonder if the Dragon-King had always been her lover, in each of her past lives, starting with the dawn of time. A stable force in her life, she had been unable to ignore his constant presence for some time now. How many seasons had passed while she dillied about with feigned ignorance at how she wanted him, needed him? The wytch loathe to do the math. But now finally, with no more distractions or disturbances, they will intertwine souls under the watchful eye of the Earth-Mother.
A dance like none she has ever performed is underway, and the scaled suitor displays the depth of his knowledge of her with every step. They are in sync as if they share a brain, a body, a heart. He entertains her affinity for the courtships rituals to the fullest, and his respect for her old ways makes her heart soar. The mare grows hot, sweat creating dark patches on her fiery coat even though the night is cool and refreshing. Jah-Lilah can hardly contain her growing anticipation for what she knows is coming soon.
When he comes to her silent call and wraps his body around her, it is like she has never been touched before. The dreamweaver is his, has always been his, will always be his. She gives herself wholly, it is the only way she knows how. His firm grip on her skin causes her to squeal as he nibbles down her side, and as he reaches her flank she swishes her tail and slams a rear hoof into the soft terrain. The anxious energy drives her, longs to escape somehow. Tiny bursts of electricity dart across her coat, as her adrenaline proceeds to flow she finds it more and more difficult to control her voltage.
The Dragon-King may learn tonight, what’s pleasure without a bit of pain?
Then comes his own truth. The words spring freely from his lips as if they’ve been there for ages, patiently waiting for their time to come. The combination of his smooth baritone in her ears and his whiskered lips on her rump is more than she can stand, and inadvertently she zaps them both. It is a low-grade shock, and she mumbles a half-hearted apology. The woman had experimented with her electric feel previously, and knows that the pleasurable tingle that follows the initial jolt means she’s dialed in just right. Poor guy, he has no idea what he’s gotten himself into.
My witchy woman does not fight him when he pivots and presses his chest to the backs of her thighs. There is no protest when he rises up, front legs snatching her roughly and pulling her to him. There is only compliance and assistance, for she needs him as much as he needs her. She takes on the sawhorse position, bracing herself. Electricity flows through them both as they join souls and create life, the only sounds in the thicket are that of two star-crossed lovers together at last. When he has finished, she too is satisfied, and wraps herself around him, shaking and drenched with perspiration.
Legs quivering, she lowers herself to the ground and relaxes. A pledge had been made tonight, one unlike any other she had ever experienced. Her mind was at ease, and she is made humble by the amount of himself he has entrusted to her. The exchange was more than mutual. Jah was aware of the challenges that came with loving a monarch, he was not the first royal lover she had taken, but he would certainly be the last. There would be others, younger than her, prettier than her, flashier than her, but none could or would love him like she.
The red wytch drifts off to sleep knowing there would be no dawn patrol, no early morning recruiting, no sunrise politicking. He would stay with her, for her. No, she would not wake without him the next morning. They would greet the sun together, as one, no longer searching for what was right in front of them the whole time.
So we’ve said our last goodbyes, because we’ll make it this time.
