Post by britalia on Dec 8, 2005 20:48:59 GMT -5
Kedenth rumbled contentedly from his well-used wallow in the bowl, his eyes whirling placidly as he raised his great head to gaze about. Now....it was truly his by right, and not by chance. The bronze shifted lazily, stretching out worn forelegs and expanding massive wings to ease their sleep-stiffened joints. His muscles groaned in protest, still sore and abused from the torment he put them through during the heated Flight a mere day before. However, despite the pain, the large dragon was very pleased indeed, yawning languidly as he rolled his sinuous tail. His rider slept on as the great beast stirred, well bedded and well warmed. Ked smirked; his rider’s satisfaction was not difficult to detect, even in his slumber. He could not disagree with the smug contentment the gypsy felt, though, for the bronze wore that same arrogant thought. He craned his neck, and his wedge-shaped head turned towards the lovely lady gold that lounged in her own massive wallow, her burnished hide gleaming in the new day’s sun. Rising, the large bronze made his way before the queen, sitting on his haunches and for a moment merely admiring her splendor. Tilting his head to the side, Kedenth crooned softly, rubbing his suede cheek against her smooth neck. Fair morning, my treasure. As beautiful as you are in sleep, I can only imagine what a sight you will be upon waking. Do show me. The words slipped off the Weyrleader’s honeyed tongue easily, her glorious form enough to evoke many more praises from his mind. At last....he could call her his own.
K’var’s dark form rested well and deeply in a bed that was not his own, his body one that had never before rested upon it’s embrace. His arms coiled protectively around a slight figure, red tresses strewn over his arm. It was a lovers embrace of the dearest tenderness, one such sweet and gentle emotion that would be broken upon their waking. The Weyrleader shifted slightly, his hand curling possessively around the young woman’s back as he pulled her closer. Even in the comfort of sleep, he unconsciously wanted to keep her close, keep her....safe. His chin rested delicately against her forehead, her even breathing whispering against his throat as sleep brought an unusual peace between them. The reprieve, however, was broken as the man’s bronze began his courting of the lady gold, Kedenth’s rider awakening as he always did at dawn’s first rays. It was not the dragons that awoke him, but his duty-bound mind that always struck him at this hour. Exotically deep emerald eyes revealed themselves at last as the dragonrider’s sleep fled him, all traces of drowsiness fleeing. The blonde’s head tilted as he faced his new lover, his lips curving slightly. If Kyparla was an angel awake, then she surely was a goddess asleep. Her face, gorgeous beyond compare, surely, rested against his shoulder, her lips barely brushing his skin. Last night had been wild, and between his own carefully controlled lust and the bronze’s heat, a wave of passion had rode them both until......K’var smirked. She might have been virgin, but Fall take him if she hadn’t been a siren the night before.
Carefully, the Weyrleader untangled his body from hers, satisfied that she still slept soundly as he stood and stretched. He would have liked nothing more than to stay in that bed and take her again when she woke, but he had duties to attend and his own rituals to see to before the first onslaught of the day. It would be like flying Thread without firestone for him today, he knew, for he had an entire Weyr of both loyal and sour riders who knew that he, K’var of bronze Kedenth, was the new Weyrleader not by luck, but by right. Gathering the clothes he had shed yesterday in his haste to take the lovely redhead, the gypsy pulled on his garments and buckled his scimitar to his waist. He strode to the door of Kyparla’s weyr and unfastened the bolt, but turned and allowed his emerald gaze to rake over her sleeping form once more. The blonde disappeared like a ghost, his feet soft and steps light. Moments later he returned to her side, watching her shift lazily with an unreadable and fathomless emotion playing in his gaze. One dark hand extended, and a moment later, he was gone. The new Weyrleader could then be found outside in his practice circle, chest bare and his sword slicing the air expertly.
Beside the Weyrwoman’s lovely face, resting lightly on the pillow the bronze rider had slept upon, lay one delicate rose, a perfect blossom cast in red brilliance upon it’s stem.
(I always wanted a man to do that for me. *sighs dreamily*)
K’var’s dark form rested well and deeply in a bed that was not his own, his body one that had never before rested upon it’s embrace. His arms coiled protectively around a slight figure, red tresses strewn over his arm. It was a lovers embrace of the dearest tenderness, one such sweet and gentle emotion that would be broken upon their waking. The Weyrleader shifted slightly, his hand curling possessively around the young woman’s back as he pulled her closer. Even in the comfort of sleep, he unconsciously wanted to keep her close, keep her....safe. His chin rested delicately against her forehead, her even breathing whispering against his throat as sleep brought an unusual peace between them. The reprieve, however, was broken as the man’s bronze began his courting of the lady gold, Kedenth’s rider awakening as he always did at dawn’s first rays. It was not the dragons that awoke him, but his duty-bound mind that always struck him at this hour. Exotically deep emerald eyes revealed themselves at last as the dragonrider’s sleep fled him, all traces of drowsiness fleeing. The blonde’s head tilted as he faced his new lover, his lips curving slightly. If Kyparla was an angel awake, then she surely was a goddess asleep. Her face, gorgeous beyond compare, surely, rested against his shoulder, her lips barely brushing his skin. Last night had been wild, and between his own carefully controlled lust and the bronze’s heat, a wave of passion had rode them both until......K’var smirked. She might have been virgin, but Fall take him if she hadn’t been a siren the night before.
Carefully, the Weyrleader untangled his body from hers, satisfied that she still slept soundly as he stood and stretched. He would have liked nothing more than to stay in that bed and take her again when she woke, but he had duties to attend and his own rituals to see to before the first onslaught of the day. It would be like flying Thread without firestone for him today, he knew, for he had an entire Weyr of both loyal and sour riders who knew that he, K’var of bronze Kedenth, was the new Weyrleader not by luck, but by right. Gathering the clothes he had shed yesterday in his haste to take the lovely redhead, the gypsy pulled on his garments and buckled his scimitar to his waist. He strode to the door of Kyparla’s weyr and unfastened the bolt, but turned and allowed his emerald gaze to rake over her sleeping form once more. The blonde disappeared like a ghost, his feet soft and steps light. Moments later he returned to her side, watching her shift lazily with an unreadable and fathomless emotion playing in his gaze. One dark hand extended, and a moment later, he was gone. The new Weyrleader could then be found outside in his practice circle, chest bare and his sword slicing the air expertly.
Beside the Weyrwoman’s lovely face, resting lightly on the pillow the bronze rider had slept upon, lay one delicate rose, a perfect blossom cast in red brilliance upon it’s stem.
(I always wanted a man to do that for me. *sighs dreamily*)
