brave_kreyu | OOM All Skate Skellig Dream Magic Weirdness -Part Three

"I'm glad," she says, smiling softly.

She flushes in pleasure when he says that he knows the look in the king's eyes. "And I you. I hope they left here safely, together."

Instinct sends her left again, past rooms that might have held servants or supplies. The less glamorous underpinnings of the palace that made the place run.

Something prickles across her skin, like an electric charge, and she stops. "A ward here, failing but not entirely gone. Will take me a while to disassemble it." It is a sign that they are probably on the right track.

The rooms are simpler here, the designs on the walls simpler, less maintained. He'll find a few treasures, if he pokes his nose into rooms as she works. A flute carved from a heron's wing bone sits abandoned on a shelf in one room. In another room, a cracked pot, delicately painted with lotus flowers in a blue glaze sits in a corner. In the smallest room, a tiny wheeled cart and horse made of pottery, the paint worn, scuffed, a well loved toy of some child of long ago.

While she works on disassembling the ward, he does indeed wander off on his own - staying within earshot should she speak, but with the quiet her voice would carry regardless of his hypersensitive hearing being turned 'up' as it is - to explore the nearby rooms.

It is the mundane that interests him the most. These were the things that were used, by those that were considered 'lesser' in the eyes of society. These are the things (and the beings) that he connects with easier. (Less chatter in the echo.) Her light spell only carries so far, but with his eyes it is simple enough to see what he needs to.

(Most items he takes note of but he leaves where they rest without touch, not wanting to disturb them (or their echoes) and leave evidence of his being in the room. But the child's horse and cart is wrapped carefully in a piece of linen, and placed beside the tiny carved owl.)

It is clear that those in this city had time to prepare for their exodus. This is not a rush-job, no panic. But he knows the pain that comes with having to leave one's nest, and it is not an easy feeling to deal with.

He is clearly a bit bothered as he wanders back out to check on how she's coming with the ward, his jaw set firm as he goes back to looking at the designs on the walls as she continues to work.

The ward gives way with a snapping sound not long after he reaches her again. She smiles brightly, pulls him into a hug.

"Heka was good, but I'm better," she tells him, slightly smug.

Kreyu can feel an echo in the air. "There's an area with enhanced karma close by, I would bet that's where he put his treasures."

His mood brightens slightly when she pulls him into the hug, her smug attitude giving him a boost.

"You are a far greater mage than most I have known," he says. "I am not surprised to know you are better than he was."

With her able to sense the karma (this he has not yet fully tuned into), he steps aside to let her lead on past the ward and towards the 'treasures'.

Kreyu is even smugger when he says she is a far greater mage than most he has known.

They duck through a passage and into a small entryway off of a room with a large, grand, door. The servants would have needed access to the rooms here, so a shortcut was provided.

THIS door, Heka left intact, perhaps because it contains no dragons. The scene displayed on the bronze is elaborate, an intertwined couple in a garden, leaves, flowers, and the couple made of semi-precious stones set into the bronze. The intertwined couple are clearly the king and queen from before, the same look of love and longing on their faces. Both of them are naked, the queen astride the king in the same position Kreyu was when she drove Skellig to ecstasy the other night. But her hands trail over the king's face, his hands gently touch her arms.

Kreyu blushes, complexion going quite red. "I feel as though I'm intruding on something private," she confesses.

Out of all the things that Skellig had considered they might discover while on this exploration of the lost city...this was absolutely not one of those things on that list.

"This is..." He clears his throat, stepping forward slightly to better look at the details of the inlay work. "This is quite well-crafted. A true artist created this. It is...quite refined."

His ears are also burning, and it is not from the sun.

"I can see why perhaps this work was kept further from view." Laughing under his breath, he touches his fingertips to the bronze and to a portion of the leaves that cover the more 'sensitive' parts of the image. "Clearly this would caused quite the fuss if it had been in the great hall. Though it makes me wonder...what exact is behind this door."

"I would bet it was their private chambers," Kreyu replies. She's glad she's not the only one blushing.

They push the door open, step into the karmic zone. (Weaker than the one in Kreyu's home, but stronger by far than the 'background' of the world.)

It's a SMALL hoard, as far as dragon hoards go. Heaps of coins in bronze, silver, and gold lay piled on the floor. Weapons and armor of bronze, decorated with gold, intermingling with the coins. Pieces of Jewelry, goblets, and statuettes in a variety of materials are distributed around the edges. In the center of the treasure looks to be a space DESIGNED for sprawling -furs of exotic beasts, silk cushions, tapestries, and a large sheet of silk over them all that matches the colors of his eyes.

Kreyu is investigating the various pieces of jewelry, hoping for an item with power like that of her necklace.

This level of Karma, Skellig can sense - and combined with the surge that he feels radiate off of Kreyu at the sight of the hoard as the light fills the room, his energy also shifts strongly in the positive direction.

She wanders off to investigate jewelry. He wanders to go look at the 'nest' itself, in the center in the room. The silk sheet intrigues him - he has not felt a material this fine beneath his fingertips, so carefully spun and woven, and he is almost hesitant to even think of touching it. But he can hear Kreyu carefully sorting through items, so he knows that touching won't hurt...

Another surge of energy radiates off of his dragon, and a different sort of thought (very wicked, he'll blame the 'art' on the door if she asks) jumps into his mind. He smirks to himself, and then carefully climbs up onto the pile (it's so comfortable!). Soundlessly, he sprawls himself out on his back, his wings outstretched, hands folded loosely behind his head.

His kilt might be slung a little low on his hips.

And then he whistles at her, the sound sharp - a hey, look at me! call designed to clearly get her attention.

Her head snaps up at his whistle, startled. But then she sees him, sprawled on silk that matches his lovely eyes, an item from HER hoard around his arm, sprawled out like the most sensual of visions.

Her eyes shift to violet, her energy surges with WANT, with Desire. Her tongue darts delicately across her lips, an unconscious motion of hunger. "Such a fine sight you make," she says, voice rough with desire. Her wings shiver, rustle, as if she's about to pounce.

She stalks toward him, slow. "Heka gave me hours of pain. I can think of no finer revenge than for my mate to claim me with pleasure atop his hoard before I take it for myself."

She leaps, wings moving through the air to help her move quickly toward him. Then, she's on all fours over him, wings spread. "Would you have me?" she whispers, voice rough with want. "Here, now?"

"I would gladly aid in such revenge," he growls, wrapping one arm up around her body, fingertips toying with the base of her wing where it meets her shoulder. "I would have you here. Now."

And then he grins, a little wild and feral.

(Her dragon energy is primal and raw; mixed with the Karma of the hoard, he has no concerns about 'draining' it, allows himself to bleed a bit of it off and mix it within his soul, his own Light surging.)

"Repeatedly."

Skellig leans up slightly, pressing his mouth to hers in a searing kiss. If she relaxes her wings, he'll make an effort to flip them in a show of dominance, but if she'd rather be the one in control (for now), he will not complain. For she is not a trophy, or a conquest to be had.

She folds her wings and laughs delightedly when he says 'repeatedly'.

She meets his searing kiss with one of her own, hungry, but more than willing to let him take control. She eases her body down onto him, lets her whole weight rest so she can touch him with both hands, caress.

With her hands roaming over his body, it is easy enough for him to 'cheat' a little and roll them over, with plenty of room for them both to stretch out on this pile of exotic furs and silks. If he wasn't already burning with such desire and want for her, he would be most tempted to curl up and sleep - and he would sleep very well, in such a fine nest!

But this is not the time for sleeping.

He has other plans of what he would do with her, in this place. They start with kissing at her neck and throat, teasing the places her knows give her shivers down her spine.

She's pleased when he 'cheats' and rolls them over, her grin wicked. She sprawls beneath him, her body warm, soft, familiar under him.

She moans in pleasure as he kisses her neck and throat, tilting her head back to give him more access. The shivers down her spine are delightful, make heat coil in her gut. "Going to wrap me in your wings, cover me and claim me as your own?" He DID mention that idea before, after all!

Her hands caress his torso, his sides, tease his wings just a little.

"That is one of my intentions," he growls playfully. "Among other desires that are stirring within my soul."

With better access to her neck and upper chest, he takes full advantage of it - after all, he would be foolish to waste such an opportunity to worship a goddess such as herself (even if she refuses to claim such a title). Kissing every inch of her skin he can reach, he sinks lower, teeth and tongue grazing the top of her shoulder.

"I would wrap you in my wings and claim you," he continues, words broken by kisses. "Atop such fine silks, the likes of which I have never seen before, soft as your skin..." His hand trails over her ribs, settling at her hip. "Bring you to pleasure, get you to cry my name in this vaulted space, rewrite the energy in these walls..."

His mind still knows the path of a scar on her shoulder that isn't there. It is sensitive, that path, to his teeth, lips, and tongue.

"Yes, OH yes," she gasps, as he explains his plans. "This silk will have pride of place in my hoard. Would ravish you on it at least one night a moon."

She shivers as his hands trail over her ribs, settle at her hip.

"Want to rewrite it with our ecstasy. Have every dragon and beast who enters this room know we pleasured one another here."

"I have no doubts we will accomplish that," he says, and it is a promise in his voice, fingers curling lightly around her hip, pulling her body upwards to come into contact with his. "They will wonder...just what a unique pairing of lovers came to find their releases within this space..."

After all, the mixed scents of dragon and...whatever it is, that he is...are quite strange, to those sensitive enough.

"Perhaps I should have brought two extra bags," he comments, wry. "For the amount of treasures that we would take to add to your hoard, to decorate our nest."

She's glad to have her body pulled into close contact with his. "Indeed." She laughs, soft.

"There may yet be chests in this place somewhere, for carrying out treasure. Or storage vessels of some kind. Will have to bury some of it under the floor, when we get home."

She kisses his neck, then licks, teasingly.

"I am good at hiding things."

Skellig shudders as she kisses at his neck, happy to have the contact, the exchange of pleasure.

"Once we return, I will see about crafting us a slightly larger bed," he groans as she licks at his neck, his voice dropping to a husky rasp. "Give us a bit more room for...activities."

Plus, he figures he will need something to do with his time, once she has 'healed' and returned to work with Taweret.

"Such a talented mate, you are," she tells him.

"Hm. Would like that. More room to stretch out."

She mouths at his neck, kissing, licking, sucking gently, though not enough to leave a mark. She presses her body up into him as much as she can.

"With these silks upon the mattress, your body beneath mine, lit simply by the fire's flicker and the steady gaze of the moon..."

The image is highly erotic and he happily rubs his hips against hers, his arousal building, heat in his chest and his groin. "I would claim you on the bed I made for us."

His wings drape closer around her - not fully enclosing them, not yet - letting her body slide against his.

"With the memories of this moment, in this place, running through my mind..."

She moans in pleasure at the images he paints in her mind, at his hips rubbing against her, his wings.

"Yes. Want that," she tells him, shivering from pleasure and arousal. Her hands grasp at his kilt, attempt to unfold it, get it off of him.

She kisses his collar bones, his shoulders, seeking to grow that heat in his chest and groin.

"Want you," he says to her, shifting his hips to allow her better access to his waist, letting her strip his kilt off before he switches and does the same with hers - moaning softly as she trails her hands over his body.

It is an ebb and flow of control, which he appreciates greatly. The same as he appreciates her, and her power, and the things she does to him with her touch and kiss. And so many other things.

(Their kilts tossed aside, there is now nothing between them and these silks, and it is a sensory experience that he has not had before - his calloused hands almost feel unworthy of it, but he pushes that thought aside for now.)

She will try to teach him that he is worthy of every good thing, every pleasure, but it may take a while.

"Want you too," she gasps. Her hands run across his back high and low. Her mouth kisses every bit of him that she can reach from this position. She can't quite reach his nipples. "Every bit of you."

She rubs her hips against his, no fabric in the way now, skin rubbing on skin.

Skin on skin is a glorious thing, and Skellig has also come to enjoy the fact that what he knows as 'traditional' clothing guidelines do not yet exist, in this time and space - minimal clothing is more of his basic nature, and should be embraced, in his opinion.

Also, he gets to look at nearly every inch of her whenever he pleases. (Which is often.)

He shifts his body to settle his weight above her onto his elbows, giving her better access to his chest with her hands.

"Every bit of me is delighted by your touch," he murmurs, smirking against her skin. "Some parts clearly more than others."

That would be evident by his cock, pressed firmly against her thigh, already hard and wanting her - but he wants more foreplay, first, and she deserves more worship.

Skellig will likely be a bit disappointed when the climate in the city requires Kreyu to wear something above the waist.

She runs her hands over his collar bones, teases his nipples, traces his ribs with gentle fingers. She loves touching him, giving him pleasure.

She laughs when he smirks against her skin. "Indeed. I wouldn't have thought I'd have you this hard so soon."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject