bottom of the deep blue sea
She is pleased he has trusted her to keep his lands safe (but perhaps it is all just so he may enjoy the true fruits of his labors). Either way his nearness and warmth are all she needs to be coaxed into the responsibility.A satisfied smirk is pulling at her lips as a feeling (dormant and sleeping) is awaken with the delicious fulfillment that she had not known she had missed. The weight of a crown is now upon her pretty head once again and it suits her silver eyes and swaying hips. The old Isobell, the Queen Isobell, is slowly waking.
Ivar's scent mingles with her own as an ear is offered to gather the names he offers and Isobell is pleased with the choices. "They are strong and wild names, suiting for our young." And what lines they did have. All their children have slowly become more kelpie than equine with each birth. They skills are homed and savage when they hunt, fierce with their tongues, unforgiving. Her own lips reach for the warm place beneath the length of his mane to inhale his essence deeply, pressing to that spot so her tongue may taste the salt that rested on his skin.
He drove her wild and she was a slave to him (though she would never admit it). Soon, in the next spring, she would grow large with their child. Isobell wanted him to be with her for the pregnancy and to witness the lives they created.
@Ivar