"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
She didn't know why she had invited Krone and her children to meet today. It had just seemed the thing to do. Kwartz was lonely, with no other children his age within the kingdom. Truth be told, she was lonely too. Maybe Krone was feeling the pressures of leadership as well. Gods knew their history was tumultuous, their children living proof of that fact. But there was a kinship as well. Solidarity, perhaps. The pale woman had gotten a bit intense the last time they'd met, so she'd been rather surprised to when Ischia's keeper had accepted her impromptu request for a playdate. It was a good sign for their kingdom's relations.
They left the children to their own devices in the playground, trusting the guardian magic to keep them safe. They were going to find out about each other sooner or later. It may as well be now, where they could maintain a sense of order. But she, for one, did not want to alter how the half-siblings would interact, and so taking care of 'grown up business' seemed to be as good of an excuse to be gone for an hour or two. That had also been her reasoning behind identifying them as cousins instead of siblings. It had seemed the safest route, to protect them from their father's wildness. They could know each other, play together. And it would be fine. It had to be. Shuddering lightly, the opal woman walked alongside her bay companion, much as they had a year ago. Spring was raising her head above the frozen earth, teasing them with apple blossoms and new grass. The air itself seemed to stretch and moan, waking from a deep sleep. It was an undeniably beautiful day.
"Well. I'm glad you took me up on this Krone. I think it's long overdue." She said after a moment, pausing as they came upon a knoll rich with herby groundcover. A weeping poplar trailed long white fingers over them, shiny buds peeking out at them. "How have you been?" She asked, unexpectedly sincere. She stroked her blushed nose against Krone's mahogany shoulder companionably, picking up the scent of salt and hibiscus. It was a strangely attractive aroma.
Sabras invitation had startled her, and she couldn’t quite figure out in what way. Their encounter in Sylva was more or less uneventful, save for the fact they established a rather wobbly treaty that stood on thin trust and a hidden lust.
But Krone has accepted, hesitantly, figuring this was a good time for the twins to get out anyways - they were growing rapidly, after all. It was only a matter of time before they crossed the land bridge on their own terms (she knew she’d have done the same at their age). So she leads her children to the field on this unusually sunny winter day, and when they arrive she calls out to the Sylvan royalty.
Sabra introduces the twins as cousins, and Krone stifles a nervous laugh (neither of them had revealed the true identities of the children’s relationships). A small nod of greeting and she turns to her own offspring.
”Be good, you two. I’ll be back soon.” She murmurs, departing quietly with Sabra to the meadow. A strange tension lingers between them that had been there upon Krone’s first gathering in Sylva. The two pick up a slow trot and eventually the playground ends and the meadow begins, leaving the children to the fairies for awhile.
Silence. Save for the quiet chattering of songbirds and the crunching of leaves and snow, they continued along in silence. Krone lets herself glance over Sabra from the corner of her eye, a chill running ever so slowly down her back. Opalescent skin on delicate bodice, blue eyes bold and intense, aroma sweet and crisp like the forest she ruled....
Sabra speaks and Krone snaps back into reality. When the Queen of Sylva touches her shoulder she twitches at the motion, but smiles anyways to hide her feelings. ”It’s been...eventful, in Ischia, to say the least,” Wait, hadn’t Sabra asked about her? How was she? Had she even thought about it or was she so focused on the island she hadn’t given it a passing glance? ”Lots of visitors. You could say I’m doing...well.” you could say it, didn’t mean it was true. ”And you, Sabra? I do thank you for your invitation. It’s nice to just get away for awhile.”
She rolled her eyes, the sarcasm softened with a smile. Krone was stretched as thin as she was. The tiredness in her countenance, the stress in the lines of her face.... She was a darker reflection of Sabra herself. They weren't friends, not really. Their earliest encounters had defined that. But they shared history and a baby daddy and a secret.
"I expect I'm doing about as well as you are. Lots of visitors, lots of political nonsense. All good fun, but it does all run together after a while." To get away from it, if only for an afternoon, had been an opportunity she couldn't pass up. She loved her kingdom, and those who lived in it. But she needed some time to be herself too. "I hope you don't mind my stretching of the truth earlier... I just don't think I'm ready for Kwartz to know the truth of his history. Not yet." Her face was stoic, knowing that the 'cousins' story could only last so long. With a sigh, she shook out the flaming curtain of her mane. This was supposed to be a pleasant outing.
With a smirk, she swung her hips to playfully bump against Krone's. "So. The kingdoms are simmering, the children are getting acquainted. It's a beautiful day, and we have it all to ourselves. Whatever shall we do with ourselves?" She asked, possibilities unfolding in her mind. The last thing she wanted to do today was waste it engrossed in politics.
"I can understand why you did it," Krone admits, shrugging her shoulders. "It's...hard, to let the children know where they came from. That they all come from the same place..." Krone isn't even sure if she'd be able to tell them one day how they came to be. Maybe it was better this way.
With a long, stretched out sigh, Krone turns to Sabra as they reach a quiet stretch of trees. Her hazel eyes bore into the sapphire of the Sylvan queen's. While their relationship was rocky, while they couldn't even be considered friends, Krone still appreciated the beauty of her. The Keeper studies each feature, each line marking Sabra's face, each curve and crevice.
The emerald and russet mare pulls her gaze away, glancing downward. The hot feeling in her face is hard to ignore. She knows the feeling pulling at her all too well; she had felt it that day with Deathwish. Her stomach feels like its flipping, the most delicate parts of her body feel warm and tingly. But this day was supposed to be about politics...
A strange look swept over the bay woman's face, and it did not go unnoticed. Sabra raised an eyebrow as her companion averted her gaze. "Are you feeling okay, Krone?" She asked gently, wondering if the island queen was ill. Gingerly, she leaned over to touch her sensitive nose to the other woman's neck, just behind her ears. Her skin was unusually warm. Did she have some sort of fever?
There was more to her than bitchy attitude and vanity. Beneath the surface, the pale woman cared for others, so much sometimes that it physically hurt. It was a weakness she sought to suppress most days, but here in the sunshine and spring air, it didn't seem so wrong to look into someone else's well being. Something about the way Krone had been studying her gave her pause, though. Perhaps the warmth of her wasn't due to a fever. She paused a moment, considering the situation.
In a low purr of a voice, she whispered into the emerald curve of Krone's ear. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were getting a bit turned on right now." She tugged lightly on a section of verdant mane, pulling the other woman's head around to meet her blue flame gaze.
Emerald tipped ears swivel nervously at the Sylvan queen's touch. A soft breath between them sends her heart racing, her body growing ever more hungry. She turns her head more, trying to avoid fueling the ever-growing fire within her.
Sabra's voice is a gentle thrum in the Keeper's ears - soft and angelic. She allows Sabra to pull her head around. Her sapphire gaze is intense, unwavering. It sends a shiver down Krone's spine, and soon she cannot take it anymore. In a full spin around, she is facing the queen.
"You haven't known pleasure until you get it from a woman," She murmurs, mouth nearly touching Sabra's. "I don't think you could handle it." Eyebrows raise in a flirtatious manner, and soon the Keeper draws herself closer, closing what little space there was left between them. Breast to breast, she traces her maw down the curve of Sabra's neck.
The whisper of air between them vanishes between one heartbeat and the next. Krone's body against hers is soft and supple, far different than her previous masculine experience. The dare in her voice is infuriating and somehow inspiring. Her wings dropped down her sides welcomingly as the Ischian queen moved along the plane of her neck.
"Is that what you think?" She breathed, heart thrumming in her chest at the light touches being inflicted. She stepped back from the embrace, so that there was that breath of air between them once more. She was doing this her way. "Why Krone, I thought you knew me better than that." She stepped back in, pursuing the dark satin of the other woman's mouth, parting her lips with her questing tongue.
Breathing stopped as she plundered Krone's mouth with her own. She pressed forward, driving her companion back in slow, shaky steps before moving her mouth from lips, to cheek, to jaw, placing a sharp bite at the junction of her throat before kissing and sucking the sting away. They were past the point of returning now. Her body ached to be touched. The heat was building to the point where she thought she might combust if she wasn't given some relief. "Fuck me, bitch... make me scream. You want to know what I taste like, I can see it." She breathed, biting the soft skin of her crest hard enough to make sure she'd feel it tomorrow.
Fire burned within her now - with every touch, with every motion, Krone felt herself growing more and more hot. It had been so long since she'd felt the alluring touch of another (her mind wanders to Deathwish, that sexy bitch). As Sabra forces her back, calls to her with a passionate breath, she can no longer contain the beast within.
She pushes back, forcing Sabra into a nearby tree. Warm breath traces the outline on the Sylvan queen's jaw, down to the curve of her neck. Krone bites, she sucks, growing rougher as time passes. She traces the length of her body down to the most tender parts, brushing them softly with her muzzle in a teasing motion.
"Scream my fucking name." She demands, finally burying her face into Sabra's warmth.
Krone
you could be the King (but watch the Queen conquer)
@[Sabra] This is horrible smut but I've been busy so I wanted to get you a reply asap. xD
Things move quickly, a blur of teeth and skin and bruising kisses. Her heart is drumming in the cage of her breast as their violent exchange travels along her body. Krone has done this before, and it shows in the way she manipulates the Sylvan queen's lithe figure.
She does not know when they moved, only that now coarse bark is pricking the sensitive skin of her shoulder. A stinging trail is worked from throat to thigh, making it exquisitely clear that Sabra is not the one in control. She might laugh if she could breath properly. Burning breath suddenly focuses on the junction of her thighs, teasing the banner of her tail in an exposing arch. The day seems suddenly to bright for what they are doing. Pressing her forehead into the unyielding tree trunk, a breathy moan pulls from her lips. Krone's order rang in her ears as the bay woman's tongue slid deftly against the waiting cleft of her sex.
"Ohh fuck, Krone... Krone!" Her voice pleaded between lapping strokes. This was different, this was strange. If she were to pleasure herself, surely it would go like this. She could feel herself grow damp, moisture rising in response to the other queen's leisurely perusal of her body. Simultaneously, a coiled spring wound ever tighter in her belly. When it released, she did not know if she could keep her voice down. Oh, but she must. It would not do at all to be discovered this way.
As Krone teased her to new heights, a foreign thought emerged. She wanted her turn giving this. She wanted to devour the woman behind her, to suck the nectar from where it ran down her thighs. It was a purely instinctive drive, gods knew there were no fuzzy emotions between them. As the island mare's teasing, tasting mouth drove her to the edge, she called her name once more, almost sobbing. Would that a man ever cared to give an orgasm like this!
Legs still trembling with aftershocks, she tore from the other woman's grip.
"My turn."
It was all she bothered to say before driving the emerald toned female before her. She rose up to mount her as a male might, gently gripping strands of hair in her teeth. She tugged them lightly as her hips ground slowly into Krone's, encouraging her to part her hind legs into a wide stance. Slowly, slowly, she slid back, scattering kisses and nips in equal measures down the length of her spine. A harder bite into the rounded curve of a prefect ass. She sucked where she had bitten, easing some of the sting away.
She could not help but hesitate a moment to peer closer at the feminine sex. The heady musk of Krone's arousal was drugging, enticing. Experimentally she nosed closer, sampling the shining fluid with a flick of her tongue. How divine. She inhaled and exhaled again, slowly. She was really about to do this. No longer hesitating, she set about her task. Sucking, stroking, prodding, laving. With tongue and teeth she teased every inch of the exterior. Finally, when Krone's breathing had gone sufficiently ragged, she plunged her tongue deep, curling it as she dragged the pointed muscle in and out. Faster and faster, then pausing just a moment to suckle sensitive skin, returning to her ravishing of the throbbing sheath that soaked her snout in its juices. Fuck, but she could do this all day.
Sabra's inner thighs are warm, wet with pleasure. As the opalescent mare moans her name, Krone can feel the tingling between her legs growing, can feel herself growing moist. Something about the taste of a woman, something about the way they moved and felt had always turned her on.
She moves her mouth from Sabra's feminine parts to the inner-most section of her legs. She bites, kisses, sucks at them slowly, waiting for her to beg for more. The breathy groan that emerges from her lips tells her all she needs to know, and she allows herself to dive in once more, tasting the sweet citrus of her lust.
The tables turn quicker than anticipated. "My turn..." The Sylvan queen purrs, and just those words are enough to make Krone's heart beat faster. Sabra is on top of her now, placing teasing bites down the length of her spine, a particularly rough cut of her teeth across Krone's rump causes her to moan in pleasure (what was it with pain that made her so horny?).
When Sabra finally decides to allow her tongue some experimenting, Krone cannot help but to lean her head back. Her breaths come in short measure now, as a prickling feeling rises from her stomach to her throat. For never doing this before, the queen certainly knew what she was doing. Enthusiastic licking and sucking causes the feeling in the Keeper's body to come to a climax.
"Fuckkkkk Sabra!" She does not hold back the scream, her legs nearly giving out as they shake with satisfaction, each nerve ending sparking with electricity.
