Fruitful labors

Description:

Irisviel Crag

    Red to Gray
  • Black Widow Queen
  • Played By: dergon

    Little Terreille Kaeleer
    69 Posts    761 marks
Fruitful labors
« on: March 22, 2020, 09:22:39 PM »

This was a different sort of run. Tension rippled down the rank of guards. Guards she didn't need. But there were always at least four. Propriety demanded it. She was a witch worthy of escort, and a queen demanding protection. Irisviel was capable of killing them all. And had, once before, murdered every man in her retinue during a wild descent into the Twisted Kingdom that had turned into a confusion fueled rage across the Killing Fields.

Today was not about exercise or expending energy. Soft leggings forsaken for short, airy skirts. A lawyer of them that would not tangle her legs or shorten her stride. Not impede what was to happen after. Today they were competitors, and to the victor went the spoils. Which in this case, was the queen.

Iris eyed them as she walked between them and out the far gate of the garden. It was harder to find the freedom of wilderness in Walcourt, but Irisviel was queen and had her ways. She knew where the green things grew. The city hugging orchards with their shallow waterways to divert rainfall down their rows.

She wove her hair into a messy braid as she walked. Spine lengthening as she stretched her body, letting her muscles loosen rather than bunch. She had nothing to fear from them, and no preference for who won. This was simply another need to be met. A craving in her body. Fresh air. Food. Exercise. Sex. Less pleasurable than many other things, but something her body hungered for anyway.

Dropping the blonde braid down her back, Iris started just as suddenly. One movement flowing into the next. Her hair barely had time to settle against her spine before it was flying behind her. A flag to beckon them on. She was fast and strong. Years of such runs had built her for endurance. She could outlast them of she could only keep ahead of them long enough.

But Irisviel didn't want to. She wanted caught. But only by someone who could catch her. She wouldn't yield to anyone unworthy. Smile fierce on her face, she lead them through the long line of trees. The stink of the city fading. Replaced by green growing things and ripened fruit. By a flash of fur. Irisviel laughed.

*This isn't for you, Daithi!* He made the men nervous, for all he'd accompanied dozens of runs now. But none knew how the half wild beast their queen had befriended would react when it turned from racing to rutting. Though the uncertainty made none stop.

Daithi Dáire

    Sapphire to Gray
  • Black Widow Warlord Prince Healer
  • Played By: Jones

    danger
    Dea al Mon Kaeleer
    19 Posts    497 marks
Re: Fruitful labors
« Reply #1 on: March 24, 2020, 12:24:39 AM »
The runs were always the same. Paces steady, routes predictable, company reliable. Daithi enjoyed them, when he remembered them at all. Visits that spanned weeks broken up by months of travel where he all but forgot about the Gray Queen. The sameness of the visits made them bleed together in his mind until he couldn’t count how many times he had raced her into the orchards of Little Terrielle. He knew that they had grown more frequent of late, since there was less trickery in slipping from one territory to the other. But he didn’t know if it had been dozens or hundreds of mornings just like this.

Except today was different. He caught a feeling in the very center of his nose. Like a tickle on its damp tip. Nostrils wiggling to suss it out. She looked different this time too. Hair a rope that swung about and skirts- skirts to run in!- twirling around her knees. He watched with narrowed eyes as men more anxious than usual stretched in preparation. Anticipation? Yes. Today the game was more important. Daithi was still sane enough to notice. Or crazy enough. Could he be both?

Front legs splaying out in front of him, he stretched the tension from his shoulders with a canine bow. Not to the queen, who was busy measuring the men that stood waiting. A bow to the sky that stretched out over them. Brilliantly blue in every direction. He inhaled slowly. Coming out of his stretch even slower. Sharp gaze on the men as they tumbled into sprints behind Irisviel. She was quick, but not quicker than a wolf. Even if her legs were made of thick, warm muscle. Wet tongue flicking out over his muzzle, Daithi joined the chase. Teeth snapping at unsuspecting heels and putting one male out of the competition when his attempt to leap away landed him face first on the ground.

Rumbling in brassy amusement he launched after another to see how that would react. Legs tossed in wide strides he outpaced them all, then lapped Iris gleefully. The prod of her amused thread yanked into completion so that he could tease back. *Daithi thinks it is for whoever is fastest. And Daithi is the fastest.* There was very little lust in the wolf. But it had a strong nose to match it’s sleek speed. And the Warlord Prince in him appreciated every sniff. He timed her stride to fall in place at her skirt tails. Nose eager to get a slip between her thighs, but finding a heel to his chin instead. He yelped, veered off to the side and shook his head until it cleared. A man behind them laughed and Daithi fell back long enough to herd him into a low irrigation ditch in retaliation. Then with a long, pitchy howl he set back to Iris’ heels. Only Daithi decided what was for Daithi. And today, it would be a queen.

In Daithi the transformation didn’t take place only in the body like it did for most. For him, it started in the scarred and often muddled shadows of his mind. The want to take what the queen made them race for flipped the switch. While he knew the man was nearly as fast as the wolf, he wasn’t ready to reveal himself- naked and two legged- to the whole party. So he wore the fur of one skin and spoke with a clearer voice to tease her into splitting from the rest. *You make it too easy on them!* He accused with a rough laugh. *Running slower for them. Taking the easy path. Wearing a dress! Follow me and I’ll show you a real mating run spider queen.* 

Irisviel Crag

    Red to Gray
  • Black Widow Queen
  • Played By: dergon

    Little Terreille Kaeleer
    69 Posts    761 marks
Re: Fruitful labors
« Reply #2 on: March 28, 2020, 07:17:04 AM »

Irisviel was indulgent. She'd been raised to be. Fed on cakes fat with frosting. Woken with sweet creams and rich coffee. She adorned herself much the same. Expensive fabrics and plush furs. But Irisviel didn't only indulge herself. She indulged her people, and Daithi fell, for the moment, into that category as much as her daily men did.

So she indulged him. Watching in amusement as he tormented her pursuers. "His teeth are no sharper than mine!" She taunted them, voice airy. Each breath dedicated to fueling her body than speaking to her men. It made the next one shudder a little in her lungs. Gulped in and sighed out before the rhythm evened out again.

Heel catching the wolf beneath his jaw, Iris laughed down their link and ran just a little faster. *Not just fastest, Daithi!* Irisviel could not explain it to him. But this was not a run the wolf could complete, even if the direction his nose took made her wonder if he didn't understand at least just a little. But it still wasn't his place, as much as his harrying of the men amused her.

Today was different. The call of her body must be met. She'd denied it before to her own detriment, and indulging the urge did her no harm. *You cannot disarm them all.* She warned, though their numbers were half already. Irisviel never invited many. It was too easy for the pack to turn to brawling when there were too many male egos on the line.

It was delicate thing, the male ego.

Wolf at her heels and men warily bringing up the rear, Irisviel cast a glance over her shoulder and measured the distance between them. If Daithi's play stole their confidence she would have to try again another day, and set aside an afternoon for soothing wounded pride. Along the faint tether spun between her Grey and Daithi's, Iris felt a shift. Eyes forward she tried to hone in on the change while not stepping in any holes and breaking an ankle.

Lips twisting, Irisviel shook her head. *Spiders do not mate with wolves.* Though she doubted many would be willing to believe the opposite of her. Rumors were thick on the streets and in her kitchens. She was feared. Easy to believe in the enemy you can see than the one you could not.

Iris ran faster, turning down a path that lead into the heart of the orchard. His voice was not the same. There had been moments like this before, though not quite so tangible. Glimpses of the wolf he had been before he'd been broken and put back together again. She had on occasion brushed the jagged edges of his chalice, but Daithi was strangely secretive. Or not. He was part spider himself, and Irisviel was loath to let others tread paths through her psyche. 

Pace ushered by the beast at her heels, Iris' idling mind did not realize they had outpaced her men and were alone in the long shadows of the trees. Breathing still steady, her heart thrust blood through her sweating body. The speed making her flush.

 

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