Beg Mercy [Closed] - Printable Version
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RE: Beg Mercy [Closed] - Tindome - 10-21-2019
The King thrust faster as she pulled at his arms, inevitably spurred on by her fruitless struggling. He half-purred and half-growled, a low and rolling sound louder than his body should have allowed. He did her the kindness of kissing her back, but he didn't have the earnest hunger of Gareth; he only claimed what he knew to be his, blood and all.
When he pulled away, his hand left her neck to give her cheek a quick slap, just enough to sting without bruising—his thumb working harder at her clit. "You've forgotten your place," he chided her, stroking the reddening skin. "Only your King gets to take what he wants." He held her jaw, his eyes intent on hers. "You're mine," he reminded her, "and you live to serve, don't you?"
He let her go, finally taking his hand out from between them and instead gripping one of her ankles. "Here," he coaxed Gareth, "this way."
Gareth carefully moved onto his side, letting Ren's legs go so they could be rearranged. The King knelt upright, holding her ankle over his shoulder to hold her sideways. Gareth, with more room to move, put his hand on Ren's hip and thrust long and slow. The King slammed into her, watching the way it moved through her upper body, the difficulty she had supporting herself when her limbs were so weak.
The King bent down, stretching out her leg as he did so, reaching past her and pulling on one of Gareth's horns. Gareth pounded hard and sudden, snarling into the King's mouth, who giggled as he kissed him. "That's better," the King said as he pulled away to focus on hammering into Ren. She was hot and slick and fit tighter around him with Gareth filling her. "Fuck her like she deserves."
He fingered her clit one last time before he came, pumping her painfully full. He pulled out to mark her stomach, admiring the way it looked splattered on her skin. Gareth rose up enough to twist her a little, just enough that his lips could reach hers as he came. A familiar twitching and flood of heat, moaning into her mouth, the King still holding her open as Gareth finished.
When he pulled away, his hand left her neck to give her cheek a quick slap, just enough to sting without bruising—his thumb working harder at her clit. "You've forgotten your place," he chided her, stroking the reddening skin. "Only your King gets to take what he wants." He held her jaw, his eyes intent on hers. "You're mine," he reminded her, "and you live to serve, don't you?"
He let her go, finally taking his hand out from between them and instead gripping one of her ankles. "Here," he coaxed Gareth, "this way."
Gareth carefully moved onto his side, letting Ren's legs go so they could be rearranged. The King knelt upright, holding her ankle over his shoulder to hold her sideways. Gareth, with more room to move, put his hand on Ren's hip and thrust long and slow. The King slammed into her, watching the way it moved through her upper body, the difficulty she had supporting herself when her limbs were so weak.
The King bent down, stretching out her leg as he did so, reaching past her and pulling on one of Gareth's horns. Gareth pounded hard and sudden, snarling into the King's mouth, who giggled as he kissed him. "That's better," the King said as he pulled away to focus on hammering into Ren. She was hot and slick and fit tighter around him with Gareth filling her. "Fuck her like she deserves."
He fingered her clit one last time before he came, pumping her painfully full. He pulled out to mark her stomach, admiring the way it looked splattered on her skin. Gareth rose up enough to twist her a little, just enough that his lips could reach hers as he came. A familiar twitching and flood of heat, moaning into her mouth, the King still holding her open as Gareth finished.
RE: Beg Mercy [Closed] - SolitareLee - 10-21-2019
It should have been impossible for him to make that sound, so big it filled the room. But it should also have been impossible for him to spit fire and exhale smoke and be so effortlessly strong that she couldn't move his hand an inch. She wasn't expecting the slap at all, and her eyes blew wide in shock. Not at the blow itself; she was long since accustomed to such things. But at the fact he had done it when it seemed so hopelessly crude. It seemed ridiculous that he'd join the legion that simply struck her to make a point. The shock left as fast as it came, however, and left behind a grin in its place. He gripped her jaw, and it became as much of a baring of teeth as a smile.
She didn't live to serve, anymore than he lived to rule. She, for one, was fairly certain she lived to create and destroy, and doubted he was much different. She couldn't lie right into those sharp blue eyes, not when she was so raw with feeling, but the quick slap had felt good, a sharp pain in contrast to the dull stabbing aches of stretching and sore muscles and endless, all-encompassing pleasure. So she found a nugget of truth to offer him, instead.
"Everything here is yours," she panted, voice strained and hoarse from facefucking and screaming. "Just because yer strong enough to take it and strong enough to keep it."
She was moved, then, whether in punishment or reward or regardless of anything, she couldn't say. The new position stretched her leg uncomfortably, particularly when she couldn't really hold it upright of her own strength anymore. It also let Gareth thrust more completely, and she whimpered with the new strain that sensation brought. She was going to black out, she just fucking knew it, the waves of endless pleasure and pure sensation almost more than she could stay on top of.
Then the King had to go and pull a her and yank on one of Gareth's horns.
She howled as he drove into her, the King matching his pace. She could see nothing but the stars behind her eyes, feel nothing but a wall of pleasure and pain. She swore her vision was fading at the corners as the King stilled, flooding her despite the fact he'd already filled her mouth more than full not long earlier. She was admiring the way he looked as he came through glazed eyes, beautiful and satisfied and looking down at her like he was very pleased to have her.
Then Gareth twisted her face away to kiss her as he thrusted a few more times and came as well. His kiss was nothing like the King's all full of heat and want and a different kind of possessiveness altogether. She whimpered and gasped into the kiss, legs twitching with uncontrollable little spasms.
After Gareth stilled and finished growling into her mouth and the King was satisfied, he dropped her leg and let her collapse limply onto the bed. Despite the fact she should have been too weak to move, despite the fact she kind of was, she reached to grip into sheets and try to pull herself away. She still felt extremely full and extremely stretched and, if she was perfectly honest, she didn't think anyone present would mind if she tried to crawl away across the sheets and pull herself off of Gareth's dick. She didn't want to wait for him to get around to it or the King to come up with another idea. Her arms quaked with the effort, but she managed to pull herself off of him and then collapsed, exhausted and dripping come onto lavender and gold sheets.
Normally, after something like this, Gareth would be all blankets and hot cocoa, but she didn't know what to expect here, and didn't have enough presence of mind left to make requests. She knew she wanted warmth and comfort and impossible things, so rather than dwell on them, she dwelled on the exhaustion sinking into her bones. On how she felt so tired that it didn't matter that she had to go back to a glorified empty cell because she could just pass out for twelve hours and not care.
RE: Beg Mercy [Closed] - Tindome - 10-21-2019
The King preened, flattered. Everything was his! He was the strongest! She really knew just what to say.
Gareth wasn't as exhausted as she was, but then, he wouldn't be. He stretched out his limbs and his tail, pressed his horns backward into the pillows.
"We should go to the bath," the King decided, still bright and perky.
Gareth, aware of what that the exact phrasing of 'go to the bath' signified, flopped backward.
"Absolutely not."
"I'm sick of the castle," he insisted. "The leaves are turning and I want to see."
"You ruined her clothes, and my clothes are disgusting," Gareth pointed out. "It's freezing up there, you never remember the cold. She's tired."
"You come, then," the King said, shoving at his leg. "You promised."
"I absolutely did not."
"It felt like you promised," he said, which was as good as the same thing. "I'll bring a blanket." The King slid out of bed. "I'll bring snacks."
"I'm not letting you wrap me in a comforter for the promise of ham."
The King did not keep stashes of food around the castle, but the servants definitely did. They considered it a precautionary measure. No one ever wanted him to get hungry. The King just assumed that this was what people were like. They built leaky houses and shit in buckets and kept a basket of hams and hard cheeses in every room. Weird human things.
"Should I bring the hard-bristled brush, or the soft one, do you think?"
"We're staying here. I need to help her clean up and get to bed so she can rest."
"I'll bring both," he decided, adding them to his basket.
"A. Va. Lanche." The King pouted in the universal manner of someone who had been Full Named. "Either we can use the pool, or you can go to the bath alone."
The King gave a smokey harrumph.
Gareth wasn't as exhausted as she was, but then, he wouldn't be. He stretched out his limbs and his tail, pressed his horns backward into the pillows.
"We should go to the bath," the King decided, still bright and perky.
Gareth, aware of what that the exact phrasing of 'go to the bath' signified, flopped backward.
"Absolutely not."
"I'm sick of the castle," he insisted. "The leaves are turning and I want to see."
"You ruined her clothes, and my clothes are disgusting," Gareth pointed out. "It's freezing up there, you never remember the cold. She's tired."
"You come, then," the King said, shoving at his leg. "You promised."
"I absolutely did not."
"It felt like you promised," he said, which was as good as the same thing. "I'll bring a blanket." The King slid out of bed. "I'll bring snacks."
"I'm not letting you wrap me in a comforter for the promise of ham."
The King did not keep stashes of food around the castle, but the servants definitely did. They considered it a precautionary measure. No one ever wanted him to get hungry. The King just assumed that this was what people were like. They built leaky houses and shit in buckets and kept a basket of hams and hard cheeses in every room. Weird human things.
"Should I bring the hard-bristled brush, or the soft one, do you think?"
"We're staying here. I need to help her clean up and get to bed so she can rest."
"I'll bring both," he decided, adding them to his basket.
"A. Va. Lanche." The King pouted in the universal manner of someone who had been Full Named. "Either we can use the pool, or you can go to the bath alone."
The King gave a smokey harrumph.
RE: Beg Mercy [Closed] - SolitareLee - 10-21-2019
This was all very complicated for Ren, whose personal desires at the time did not go any further than "wamrth" and "food" and quite possibly "cuddles in unrealistically large amounts." She listened, sleepily, familiarizing herself with the King's begging--er, no, she probably shouldn't call them that even in a sleepy mind, um--debate tactics. Even exhausted, she knew that if she could find a something she wanted hidden inside something the King wanted, she could definitely provide a tiebreaker. She snorted with amusement. She pointed, limp-wristed, at both of them, tip of her finger flicking from the King to Gareth. "He breathes fire. Yer made of fire. The fuck are either of you talkin' about, cold." She started to sit up slightly, and thought better of it. Listening to these two idiots bicker was the opposite of aftercare, but she was still exhausted and foggy-headed.
She hadn't heard anything she wanted inside the King's idea, yet, and a few things she wanted inside of Gareth's, but she was willing to give his Highness the opportunity to help her help him. "I'm hungry." As she spoke, she realized how true it was. The sensation she'd been ignoring the whole time opened up like a pit inside of her. She wasn't just hungry, she was ravenous. If she was not fed within the next fifteen minutes, she would be getting rats to rob the kitchen. She would be standing up, fully naked, stealing the King's cape, and walking there herself. Or rolling, if necessary.
"I'm really hungry," she repeated, hoping the adjective would help convince one of them of the righteousness of feeding her. She did not say she would agree with whichever man provided her larger quantities of higher quality food, but the promise was there in her eyes. Gareth had a better chance of knowing this; he knew she was food motivated, if not why. Her admitting to hunger was much akin to her admitting to a personal failing: quite rare and a sign that something significant had happened.
RE: Beg Mercy [Closed] - Tindome - 10-21-2019
"Give her something to eat," Gareth said, but the King already had a gleam in his eye.
"I'll let you eat as much as you want," he declared, "if you come with me to the bath."
"Feed her first and then let her decide," Gareth said, well aware that if she was asking she was probably starving.
"If she eats now, she'll vomit," the King said. "She can eat on the way." He grabbed his cape off the floor, and threw it over her. "It will be fun," he assured her, making no effort to get dressed. "You can tell because he doesn't want to go."
Gareth started pulling himself out of bed to grab the basket for Ren, but the King didn't give him a chance. He twirled around, grabbed it, and sidestepped Gareth neatly to step out onto the balcony and drop it over the edge.
"Really?" Gareth demanded. His annoyance was palpable, ready to lecture on the subject of why this was fucking stupid. The King grabbed him before he could, hands on either side of his face. Gareth stilled as the King forced him to hold his gaze.
"I am the King of Aeris," he reminded him, his Rs all rolling and his vowels all sideways. "I am the Scourge of the Skies Above Seven Kingdoms. My word is law, and your heart beats as I will it." He waited.
"Yes, Your Majesty," Gareth said quietly. His tail twisted against his legs.
"You will find a warm blanket, and you will bring her to the balcony, or else I will throw you both."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The King let him go, and then clapped. "This is going to be so much fun!" he said cheerfully, twirling naked back outside the room, grabbing a handful of stray baubles off the desk on the way. "I've been cooped up for days." He leaned over the stone railway, and waved at a passing servant, gold and gemstones practically dripping from his fingers.
Gareth used the already-soiled sheets to try and wipe himself off, to be at least a little cleaner than he'd been. Then he dropped to his knees to hunt for extra blankets underneath the bed.
The King stood on the railing, balanced precariously on his toes, and threw his arms out in either direction. He stretched out his limbs until they were longer, curled his spine until his wings unfolded, twirled his hair into sharp horns.
The balcony, fortunately, was large. And the King, for all the great bulk of him, could balance as well on the railing as a bird on a wire. He shook his head, letting a crown of lead and opals fall to the floor, shaking off the claws of his left hand until ash-covered lead chains joined them.
He poked his snout into the open doorway. "Take your time," he said, his voice filling the room. "I will help you down whenever you are ready." He stood back up to survey the sky.
"I'll let you eat as much as you want," he declared, "if you come with me to the bath."
"Feed her first and then let her decide," Gareth said, well aware that if she was asking she was probably starving.
"If she eats now, she'll vomit," the King said. "She can eat on the way." He grabbed his cape off the floor, and threw it over her. "It will be fun," he assured her, making no effort to get dressed. "You can tell because he doesn't want to go."
Gareth started pulling himself out of bed to grab the basket for Ren, but the King didn't give him a chance. He twirled around, grabbed it, and sidestepped Gareth neatly to step out onto the balcony and drop it over the edge.
"Really?" Gareth demanded. His annoyance was palpable, ready to lecture on the subject of why this was fucking stupid. The King grabbed him before he could, hands on either side of his face. Gareth stilled as the King forced him to hold his gaze.
"I am the King of Aeris," he reminded him, his Rs all rolling and his vowels all sideways. "I am the Scourge of the Skies Above Seven Kingdoms. My word is law, and your heart beats as I will it." He waited.
"Yes, Your Majesty," Gareth said quietly. His tail twisted against his legs.
"You will find a warm blanket, and you will bring her to the balcony, or else I will throw you both."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The King let him go, and then clapped. "This is going to be so much fun!" he said cheerfully, twirling naked back outside the room, grabbing a handful of stray baubles off the desk on the way. "I've been cooped up for days." He leaned over the stone railway, and waved at a passing servant, gold and gemstones practically dripping from his fingers.
Gareth used the already-soiled sheets to try and wipe himself off, to be at least a little cleaner than he'd been. Then he dropped to his knees to hunt for extra blankets underneath the bed.
The King stood on the railing, balanced precariously on his toes, and threw his arms out in either direction. He stretched out his limbs until they were longer, curled his spine until his wings unfolded, twirled his hair into sharp horns.
The balcony, fortunately, was large. And the King, for all the great bulk of him, could balance as well on the railing as a bird on a wire. He shook his head, letting a crown of lead and opals fall to the floor, shaking off the claws of his left hand until ash-covered lead chains joined them.
He poked his snout into the open doorway. "Take your time," he said, his voice filling the room. "I will help you down whenever you are ready." He stood back up to survey the sky.
RE: Beg Mercy [Closed] - SolitareLee - 10-21-2019
She suspected the King would make such an offer, which was entirely why she'd mentioned her hunger to begin with. She didn't really know why Gareth was having such a difficult time. The King was beginning to seem straightforward to her. Wait until he wanted something, wait until someone else pointed out all the flaws in his plan, suggest something you could be bribed with, be bribed, drag your boss along with you, because he wasn't legally supposed to leave your side. Hm. Perhaps this specific technique was actually only applicable to her.
"I don't vomit," she protested, because she wanted to eat right now, immediately, but she quieted when he threw his cape over her, delighted. It was soft and warmed quickly where it touched her. She tied it around her neck and wrapped it around her, then practically rolled in it, unthinking of the way she was leaking semen. This meant, mercifully, that she was distracted for the part where the King threw food off a ledge. If she'd realized what he'd done, there probably would have been yelling. Or tears. She was feeling very emotionally fragile, so probably both.
As it was, she started paying attention when he was using his Big Dragon Voice to intimidate Gareth. It was funny. It was kind of hot. She rolled off the bed, very shakily, her legs wobbling beneath her dramatically, to wander over towards the balcony. She was figuring out by now that "the pool" was probably a lake on top of a mountain or something. She hoped it was a hot springs but wasn't holding out for that. She was clued into this by the King: small turning into the King: large.
Her stomach churned just looking at him, and she suddenly and abruptly realized why he was concerned about her vomitting.
"Do we get to ride the King?!" she demanded of Gareth in something of a stage whisper. The King probably could have heard her even if he wasn't a dragon. Her tone implied that if the King had started with that, there would have been no debate at all from her, not that she'd given up any, anyway. "Boss, I realize you get to ride him all the time," she said, waggling her eyebrows suggestively to make her point abundantly clear. "But this is still a novelty to some of us."
She stepped out onto the balcony in just the cape, forgetting self-consciousness for the moment. It dragged on the floor behind her, built for someone considerably taller and broader. She looked absolutely petite in it. She squatted down, then promptly fell over sideways, having forgotten the weakness in her legs that quickly. Not discouraged, she ran a curious finger over the lead jewelry.
So that was why he needed a mountain of treasure. No wonder Gareth had acted like she was being foolish for suggesting otherwise. She wasn't sure how she felt about such things being wasted to turn him back and forth, but she'd debate that internally, later, when economic morals seemed more pressing. For now, charmed, she picked up the lead and opal crown.
"I love this," she informed him. Lead was an issue, she realized, but it was dull-grey and the opals still sparkled. She could wash her hands before eating. It was fine. She glanced back through the balcony doors, watching Gareth grabbing as many blankets as he could carry, which was a lot. She held the crown up, admiring how both it and the King sparkled in the sunlight.
RE: Beg Mercy [Closed] - Tindome - 10-21-2019
Gareth grumbled wordlessly as he retrieved blankets from what he knew was a nest hidden beneath the bed. He tied one around his shoulder in a vague approximation of a chiton, because he had no intention of wandering around naked just because the King was impatient.
He'd known from the start that Ren would like this idea if she understood it. Keeping her managed was difficult enough when she didn't know that outings like this could be found amidst the King's myriad whims. Going back to the Guard's Quarters and the labs after this wasn't going to be easy on her.
Avi had a way of making people think they might be special, until they realized they weren't.
The King watched her examine his crown. "The Divine Opals will need to be reset," he said. The gold in the crown was supposed to be for emergencies, in case he needed his midform, but he rarely waited for one. The Royal Jeweler was now possessed of a large number of empty crowns. That the opals didn't turn to ash rendered them divine, but it also made them useless.
"There is a basket, so that I may carry you," he explained patiently. "Riders tend to fall."
It was the kind of basket used for ballooning, hanging beneath the balcony. A bent and tipped-over basket of food sat at the bottom of it, where the King had thrown it down.
Gareth emerged onto the balcony, blankets in hand and expression carefully neutral. Neither one of them would make it easy for him if he were obviously annoyed.
The King grabbed him first, claws wrapping around his waist and lifting him off the ground. Gareth's tail wrapped involuntarily around one of them as he was lowered into the basket. Then Ren was gently lifted, the King certain that Gareth would catch her if she squirmed and slipped free.
Once they were both sitting securely, the King pulled it loose to carry it. His wings beat, sending powerful gusts of air toward the ground as he started to take off. He leapt from the balcony, and Gareth held Ren tightly against him, because takeoff was the worst part. The basket would swing, feeling more dangerous than it was.
The ride steadied as they got higher, though the air got cold and thin. Gareth pulled a blanket over himself and made no effort to move as they leveled off into a glide.
The King did a wide circle above the city, the castle small and the houses tiny, a snarled nest of streets filled with small dots of people. He headed north, following the river, the water clearer upstream as he left the city behind. Trees grew thicker, and he let himself glide lower to get a better look at the bursts of red and orange and yellow. When the river was wide enough, he swooped low enough to drag his claws through it, spray raining down into the basket. He startled a particularly rotund bear, and laughed before following a waterfall straight upward, flying higher until he reached the height of a low cloud. Then he resumed his gentle glide toward the mountains. He contemplated the herd of bison grazing in a distant field.
Gareth pulled a blanket over his head.
He'd known from the start that Ren would like this idea if she understood it. Keeping her managed was difficult enough when she didn't know that outings like this could be found amidst the King's myriad whims. Going back to the Guard's Quarters and the labs after this wasn't going to be easy on her.
Avi had a way of making people think they might be special, until they realized they weren't.
The King watched her examine his crown. "The Divine Opals will need to be reset," he said. The gold in the crown was supposed to be for emergencies, in case he needed his midform, but he rarely waited for one. The Royal Jeweler was now possessed of a large number of empty crowns. That the opals didn't turn to ash rendered them divine, but it also made them useless.
"There is a basket, so that I may carry you," he explained patiently. "Riders tend to fall."
It was the kind of basket used for ballooning, hanging beneath the balcony. A bent and tipped-over basket of food sat at the bottom of it, where the King had thrown it down.
Gareth emerged onto the balcony, blankets in hand and expression carefully neutral. Neither one of them would make it easy for him if he were obviously annoyed.
The King grabbed him first, claws wrapping around his waist and lifting him off the ground. Gareth's tail wrapped involuntarily around one of them as he was lowered into the basket. Then Ren was gently lifted, the King certain that Gareth would catch her if she squirmed and slipped free.
Once they were both sitting securely, the King pulled it loose to carry it. His wings beat, sending powerful gusts of air toward the ground as he started to take off. He leapt from the balcony, and Gareth held Ren tightly against him, because takeoff was the worst part. The basket would swing, feeling more dangerous than it was.
The ride steadied as they got higher, though the air got cold and thin. Gareth pulled a blanket over himself and made no effort to move as they leveled off into a glide.
The King did a wide circle above the city, the castle small and the houses tiny, a snarled nest of streets filled with small dots of people. He headed north, following the river, the water clearer upstream as he left the city behind. Trees grew thicker, and he let himself glide lower to get a better look at the bursts of red and orange and yellow. When the river was wide enough, he swooped low enough to drag his claws through it, spray raining down into the basket. He startled a particularly rotund bear, and laughed before following a waterfall straight upward, flying higher until he reached the height of a low cloud. Then he resumed his gentle glide toward the mountains. He contemplated the herd of bison grazing in a distant field.
Gareth pulled a blanket over his head.
RE: Beg Mercy [Closed] - SolitareLee - 10-21-2019
"Cool," she murmured, running a finger over the lead. She was of the opinion it was prettier this way than set in gold, but he was right. It would be a waste of opals, particularly since these were apparently divine, whatever the hell that meant. She set it carefully inside the room as Gareth approached with his army of blankets. If it was that important, best it be inside where it wouldn't accidentally fall or something. A basket wasn't quite as cool as riding a dragon, but he was right; it was probably safer. Fortunately, she got a warning of what was about to happen when Gareth was picked up first. She even managed not to squeak, this time. Frankly, rather than squirm, the held very still and clung very tight. She wasn't afraid of heights at all, but she was practical about it.
She was dropped delicately into a basket, and Ren still had no idea why Gareth had been so grumpy about this. What could someone's life be like, that they wouldn't drop literally everything to do this? Er, no pun intended.
She was briefly distracted by the presence of food, but wisely left it for later, since everyone was so concerned about her vomitting today, for whatever reason. Plus, the King had somehow managed to discover something more interesting to her than food.
They took off, and Ren shrieked with delight as the force of it pushed her down against the basket, which swung wildly. She had a broad if instinctual understanding of physics; she wasn't particularly worried about falling out, despite how it felt. She hopped with delight as they rose, albeit gently, as she was in a basket. She ran excitedly to the edge of the basket, clinging to it as she leaned over the edge. The king's cloak flew out behind her, fluttering with the force of wind, but she'd tied it securely enough that it stayed safely around her neck.
The air grew cold as they rose, and she found herself strangely breathless in ways that couldn't be explained away by just excitement and wind. She felt as though her breath might turn to ice crystals on the wind, but she made no move for a blanket, preferring to get chilled down to her bones. She felt alive, and the sensation choked her unexpectedly.
The city was tiny, and she froze up when she saw the trees. They were a jigsaw puzzle of colors, green and yellow and orange and red, like a forest fire. The King had been right, the trees were changing. Fall was here, winter on its way.
It hadn't yet been spring when she was sentenced. The smile faded from her face, realization of the time that had passed in a blurry haze of idle torture setting in. Her jaw tightened, and briefly, when her panoramic gaze panned over Gareth, there was a flash of honest hatred there that he probably hadn't seen in quite a while.
Fortunately for them both, Ren couldn't remain melancholic for long, not under these circumstances. She refused to have this breath of freedom ruined by sulking. She would surely never experience this again by any measure, not the flying and maybe not the freedom, unless her plans for escape suddenly and dramatically came to fruition.
Which they almost did when the King flew low, skimming over the river. She wondered if Gareth noticed the way her breath caught, the way her leg raised automatically as if to climb over the edge of the basket. She might survive a tumble into the river, even at this speed, the King might not even notice she was gone until it was too late to find her, might not hear Gareth yelling.
But the moment passed without her jumping, a jumble of disconnected reasons why bouncing around her skull. Too dangerous. The King wouldn't really bother to care if she escaped from the complex, but she suspected he'd be quite cross if she did it right out from under his nose, while he still remembered she existed. She was naked save for a cape, and that might slow her down long enough that she wouldn't make it to a border before she was hunted down like a dog and finally put down.
Instead, she closed her eyes into the spray of water, only opening when the King shot straight upwards next to a waterfall. He rocketed back upwards and she wrapped tense hands around the rim of the basket to avoid being shoved backwards, feet digging into the bottom. Cold air filled her lungs and water fresh from a river had sprayed into her mouth.
She didn't move from the side of the basket, despite the chill only made worse by the wet. She was shivering, her whole body flush with goose flesh. She hoped she caught ill, because it often reminded her that she still had a body when she'd been in her room too long over a weekend and forgot. She leaned against the edge of the basket and gazed out at the world, looking for all the world like she was still contemplating climbing out.
She sort of understand what the King had meant. It was a crime to keep him holed up in that castle. She wondered if he ever thought about the people he kept caged under those sympathetic terms. Definitely not. Wouldn't care to try if she suggested it.
RE: Beg Mercy [Closed] - Tindome - 10-21-2019
Gareth would have liked to stay under his blanket, but not being able to see Ren was turning out to be a problem. He couldn't hear anything but the rushing of wind, the occasional beating of wings. He kept convincing himself that she'd fallen out, and hadn't screamed, and he hadn't noticed to sound the alarm because he'd had a blanket over his face like an idiot. Then he'd peer out just long enough for a glimpse of her before repeating the process.
She wanted to stand and see the sights. Fine. That was fine. He wouldn't be the one to tell her to sit the fuck down like a sane person.
There wasn't much space between them anyway, but Gareth inched closer, back against the wall and still sitting. When he was close enough, his fingers touched her ankle, and then rested there.
Yes. Good plan. Now he'd definitely notice if she tipped out somehow. His breathing eased as much as it could ever ease this high in the air.
The King was oblivious to both of them, aside from the fact that the basket's weight hadn't changed. They passed over a foreign city-state, a great mound of earth and crops with circular irrigation patterns. Boats traveled along the man-made rivers. He sent out a flare of harmless flame in greeting, but they didn't interest him much. They'd been there a long time, and they minded their own business.
He did another low swoop to harass a herd of horses, but only because he liked to watch them run.
Sharp crags of earth and worn cliff-faces emerged from the ground the closer they came to the mountains. He flew higher, finally circling a low snow-capped peak. Then he dove into a cloud, the fog dispersing with the beat of his wings. Massive outcroppings of quartz-like stone glowed faintly in his presence, occasional shadowy shapes cast by skittering salamanders. The rocks glittered, run through with veins of gold. Away from the cliff-face, the landscape stretched far into the distance. Glowing crystal and gold were apparent beneath the bubbling water of the spring, flecks of precious metal in the water. Strange flowering vines grew out of cracks and spread throughout the little hollow.
It smelled faintly of eggs.
The King set down the basket, and dove immediately into the hot spring.
She wanted to stand and see the sights. Fine. That was fine. He wouldn't be the one to tell her to sit the fuck down like a sane person.
There wasn't much space between them anyway, but Gareth inched closer, back against the wall and still sitting. When he was close enough, his fingers touched her ankle, and then rested there.
Yes. Good plan. Now he'd definitely notice if she tipped out somehow. His breathing eased as much as it could ever ease this high in the air.
The King was oblivious to both of them, aside from the fact that the basket's weight hadn't changed. They passed over a foreign city-state, a great mound of earth and crops with circular irrigation patterns. Boats traveled along the man-made rivers. He sent out a flare of harmless flame in greeting, but they didn't interest him much. They'd been there a long time, and they minded their own business.
He did another low swoop to harass a herd of horses, but only because he liked to watch them run.
Sharp crags of earth and worn cliff-faces emerged from the ground the closer they came to the mountains. He flew higher, finally circling a low snow-capped peak. Then he dove into a cloud, the fog dispersing with the beat of his wings. Massive outcroppings of quartz-like stone glowed faintly in his presence, occasional shadowy shapes cast by skittering salamanders. The rocks glittered, run through with veins of gold. Away from the cliff-face, the landscape stretched far into the distance. Glowing crystal and gold were apparent beneath the bubbling water of the spring, flecks of precious metal in the water. Strange flowering vines grew out of cracks and spread throughout the little hollow.
It smelled faintly of eggs.
The King set down the basket, and dove immediately into the hot spring.
RE: Beg Mercy [Closed] - SolitareLee - 10-21-2019
Ren didn't even notice Gareth shifting around until she felt a hand on her ankle. She jolted, startled out of her remarkably peaceful reverie of watching more world then she'd known existed drift by in the distance below. She took a moment to actually properly take in the way he was sitting, bundled in blankets with one on his head, blocking out the sights. She wasn't scared of heights, but she suspected he might be. She quietly added it to her list of factoids about him that she kept for when she'd inevitably need to hurt him very badly. No wonder he'd been so mad when she climbed up into the rafters. No wonder he'd been so pissy about flying with the King.
She considered, briefly, pulling her ankle away from his hand, still bitter about her imprisonment and more than willing to take it out on him, as she often was. She bet if she dangled herself over the edge of the basket, he'd have a heart attack. That was worth the risk of falling. But she didn't; she just let the imaginary fear on his face run its course in her mind until it was almost as good as actually doing it.
Almost.
Ren had never seen a foreign land, and she had never seen wild horses. She wondered if she could keep the King from noticing how much this meant to her. She felt sensitive, maybe still from the aftermath of the bedroom, and suddenly her vulnerability felt unforgivably dangerous. The things that could be used to hurt her, the same way she could use Gareth's fear of heights to hurt him.
The King approached a particular mountain, and her ears popped uncomfortably as he flew even higher up. It got colder still, cold enough that she could see her puffs of breath on the wind, that she pulled the billowing cloak around her and shivered.
She could tell why he liked this place the second they were close enough for her to see. All that gold must make certain things easy. He set down the basket, and she was already halfway over the edge of it when he splashed into the water, sending a splatter of it onto her. It was warm. No, it was hot.
She crunched down into a tiny bank of snow, not seeming overly bothered by her bare feet. She bundled up the cloak around her, shivering, and approached the edge of the water, not waiting for Gareth, her hunger already forgotten. She knelt down by it, curiously. It smelled funny, and it seemed to glitter.
"Is it safe for humans?" she asked, figuring she was close enough to count for most things.
RE: Beg Mercy [Closed] - Tindome - 10-21-2019
The King rested in the water, only the top of his head above the surface. He rose a little to regard her. "It is safe," he said. "I do not use the gold that touches water." Even a dragon knew better than to make a heavy metal soup. He set his chin along the stone surrounding the pool, and looked out at the landscape, partially obscured by clouds. His castle was only barely visible in the distance. He tilted his head until he couldn't see it. Only forests, and rivers, and open fields. The manic energy with which he'd suggested this outing was gone.
Iridescent fish the size of his smallest scales schooled and scattered around his tail.
Gareth emerged from the basket carrying food and brushes, well aware that he was the only one who'd remembered them. He set them down beside the edge of the water. Despite himself, he went to look at the cherry tree. It had never entirely thrived here, clearly a transplant. The first time he'd been brought here, he'd tied his hair ribbon to one of the branches as a momento.
Ribbons and string and scraps of cloth and lengths of chain all fluttered from different parts of the tree. He had a petty desire to pull them all off, leave only his again. He looked out into the distance, admiring the view for the first time.
It wasn't the height. It was sort of the height. It was the moving. He could stand here on a mountain, at the top of a tower, climb a ladder or a tree. Balloons and airships and carts and beating wings—those were madness.
He untied the blanket still tied at his shoulder, and slipped into the water, letting the heat slip into his bones. He still wore the gold ring on his horn, a single small ruby set in the center.
Iridescent fish the size of his smallest scales schooled and scattered around his tail.
Gareth emerged from the basket carrying food and brushes, well aware that he was the only one who'd remembered them. He set them down beside the edge of the water. Despite himself, he went to look at the cherry tree. It had never entirely thrived here, clearly a transplant. The first time he'd been brought here, he'd tied his hair ribbon to one of the branches as a momento.
Ribbons and string and scraps of cloth and lengths of chain all fluttered from different parts of the tree. He had a petty desire to pull them all off, leave only his again. He looked out into the distance, admiring the view for the first time.
It wasn't the height. It was sort of the height. It was the moving. He could stand here on a mountain, at the top of a tower, climb a ladder or a tree. Balloons and airships and carts and beating wings—those were madness.
He untied the blanket still tied at his shoulder, and slipped into the water, letting the heat slip into his bones. He still wore the gold ring on his horn, a single small ruby set in the center.
RE: Beg Mercy [Closed] - SolitareLee - 10-21-2019
It hadn't actually been lead that had worried her, but that was a really damn good point she hadn't considered. Still, she was trusting enough that even if the King was careless enough to accidentally poison her, Gareth would definitely know if something wasn't safe for her and protest, loudly. She untied the cloak with a little difficulty--she hadn't realized how stiff and numb her fingers had gotten, but it was considerably--and then slid eagerly into the water. The King was calmer now, sort of, and she wondered if his manic energy came from stuffing all that dragon into such a tiny body, or if he just really did better when not cooped up. She could relate, if so.
The water was hot and had to have been extremely deep in places. She'd need to be careful; she only very vaguely remembered what it felt like to be submerged and wasn't confident she remembered how not to sink. The water was significant enough that she saw fish, which just reminded her again of the gnawing emptiness in her belly. She glanced back towards the basket, and saw the Gareth had brought the food.
She half-waddled, half-splashed over to the edge where he'd put it, trying to figure out if her body remembered without making her lack of knowledge obvious. She appeared to remember not even the most basic of doggy paddles. Probably just as well she hadn't jumped off into a river, then.
Still, she managed to make it to the food, and, having fulfilled her end of the bargain and gone where the King wanted her, she wordlessly tore off a piece of cheese and simply bit into it, not appearing to care about how reasonable a meal straight cheese was. She shivered as she swallowed, the dizzying endorphin rush having nothing to do with the hot air or cold water. She normally paced herself somewhat, although Gareth would certainly not think so because she still fairly wolfed food down every lunch. But lunch was small and so were the snacks he snuck her and this was a basket full of food and she had done so much to get it.
She threw the second half of the plum-sized chunk of cheese she'd torn off into her mouth, once again barely chewing it enough to break it into pieces before swallowing it with the determination of a large snake swallowing a wild hog.
RE: Beg Mercy [Closed] - Tindome - 10-21-2019
Gareth swam closer to her in relative silence, limbs moving under the water. He came to rest beside her, propping his arms up on stone.
"Chew your food," he reminded her, not for the first time, quiet as if the dragon could not hear him. "And eat an apple with it, if you don't want to have a stomachache later." He ventured to rub her back, running his hand along her spine.
The King lifted his head to look at them. "Do you not feed her?" he asked.
"I feed her constantly," Gareth said. "She's just hungry."
"She said you do not feed her."
"She thinks that's funny."
"Hm." The King moved closer to the center of the spring, submerging himself entirely for a moment before lifting his head back out. Waves moved outward from him and lapped at their skin.
"No splashing," Gareth said dryly.
"You will know if I am splashing." The flecks of gold and mica on his scales were less obvious than the ones on Gareth's skin.
"Chew your food," he reminded her, not for the first time, quiet as if the dragon could not hear him. "And eat an apple with it, if you don't want to have a stomachache later." He ventured to rub her back, running his hand along her spine.
The King lifted his head to look at them. "Do you not feed her?" he asked.
"I feed her constantly," Gareth said. "She's just hungry."
"She said you do not feed her."
"She thinks that's funny."
"Hm." The King moved closer to the center of the spring, submerging himself entirely for a moment before lifting his head back out. Waves moved outward from him and lapped at their skin.
"No splashing," Gareth said dryly.
"You will know if I am splashing." The flecks of gold and mica on his scales were less obvious than the ones on Gareth's skin.
RE: Beg Mercy [Closed] - SolitareLee - 10-21-2019
Ren wordlessly grabbed an apple, biting it in a strange circular pattern a few times before gripping the chunk she had pre-bitten with her teeth and tearing. The whole piece came out in a chunk down to the core, and she tossed her head back to eat it in much the same way as she had the cheese, crunching audibly. She ate like a seagull, or an engineer designing new ways based entirely on getting the maximum amount of food into her mouth at a time. She swallowed, then glanced somewhat guiltily back at the King. She opened her mouth, the truth almost spilling out of her, but thought better of it for reasons she wasn't entirely clear on. She bit back into the apple instead, once again tearing out a large chunk instead of just biting into it. She just let the conversation wash over her and remained silent, neither confirming nor denying. Not lying, but letting assumption's and Gareth's assertions wash the issue away.
It felt like if she admitted to her complaints, something terrible would happen. They'd look into it and find it just. They would tell her it was just part of being a prisoner, and she should have thought about that before committing a crime, as Gareth had said in the past. She didn't want to still like them after hearing that, and knew she would anyway because she was out of people to like. Saying it out loud made it feel like it'd be real, and she didn't want to be disappointed. Not today, when she was having a good day. She didn't want to think about her empty room with small things stolen for her by rats under the bed, with books Gareth had given her sitting unread on shelves because when she tried, her eyes glazed over the words and she wound up feeling stupid and worse than when she started.
"What if 'e wants to splash?" she asked dryly around a mouthful of apple, which she swallowed with minor difficulty. Watching her eat was always a stressful endeavor. Much like when she was full of cock, it really seemed like she shouldn't have been able to fit as much in her at one time as she did. "I like it, anyway. The water is pretty an' so is he." Gareth needed to loosen up, both now and always. "Yer too uptight after what we just did. My ass didn't make this sacrifice so y'could still have a log up yers." She poked him in the chest with the half-eaten apple. "We're in a giant hot lake with gold in it on top o' a mountain with a dragon. If y'gotta get fucked again to enjoy this, I'mma ask the King to do it instead. Maybe he can unlodge that tree with his dick; maybe I been doin' it wrong the whole time."
RE: Beg Mercy [Closed] - Tindome - 10-22-2019
"Ugh." Gareth averted his gaze. "Small bites," he said, knowing it was fruitless. "We don't need you choking because you inhaled an apple core and got it stuck down there."
The King watched them both. "If you are trying to force him into fun, you will not succeed," he informed her. "He does not forget that he is responsible."
Gareth didn't appreciate the double-entendre. "You obviously can't swim," he told her, ignoring him. "If he splashes, you're going under. And you don't want this water in your eyes."
The King licked the back of Gareth's head, and he flushed, pushing the dragon's nose away.
"Your city is on a river," the King observed. "You did not swim in it, before?"
"You don't swim in it, either."
"It stinks. I assumed you did not mind." If humans didn't want to swim in filthy water, they shouldn't have been putting their filth in the water. They had gotten the river down to what the King considered bearable levels of smell, where before he had found it noxious. There were still many buildings he had been told he shouldn't burn, for various complicated reasons that were explained to him every time he offered to burn down a particularly foul building.
The King watched them both. "If you are trying to force him into fun, you will not succeed," he informed her. "He does not forget that he is responsible."
Gareth didn't appreciate the double-entendre. "You obviously can't swim," he told her, ignoring him. "If he splashes, you're going under. And you don't want this water in your eyes."
The King licked the back of Gareth's head, and he flushed, pushing the dragon's nose away.
"Your city is on a river," the King observed. "You did not swim in it, before?"
"You don't swim in it, either."
"It stinks. I assumed you did not mind." If humans didn't want to swim in filthy water, they shouldn't have been putting their filth in the water. They had gotten the river down to what the King considered bearable levels of smell, where before he had found it noxious. There were still many buildings he had been told he shouldn't burn, for various complicated reasons that were explained to him every time he offered to burn down a particularly foul building.