"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
I V A R i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
Her hesitation had been understandable, but Ivar is sure that with enough time, Heda would come around to the idea of a herd. She’d questioned his surety, but Ivar had never been more certain of anything. There is some internal dissonance still, the issue of remaining landlocked, but he can push that aside. He is only waiting, after all, biding his time until whatever loose ends need tying up in Nerine are finished.
The end of winter has come and gone, and Ivar has found himself still waiting.
He catches himself looking north more often than usual one chilly spring morning. With a cough at his own impatient folly, the scaled stallion turns away from the sunrise tinted view and back toward the heart of the kingdom. For a moment he pauses, realizing – perhaps for the first time – that he has options. It is a rather pleasant thought, one that the kelpies soaks in for a long moment. Whom shall he choose?
Heda, he decides.
He has not sought her out since his return from the ocean, a blissful period that previously he had felt only with the navy-winged mare. They have not discussed the changes in Loess, the way their role reversal might affect them, but that does not bother Ivar. It is only titles, after all, and as he crests a hill to find Heda beside a familiar spring, the satisfaction at finding her is unchanged.
“Heda,” he says, pressing his muzzle to her hip and sliding it up her side until he stands beside her. “I’ve missed you.” And he has, despite the fact that he smells of other women, of time spent at their sides rather than hers. There will always be other women, needs he must satisfy, but he has no intentions of forgetting Heda. She is more than a sexual release, more than something to toy with and tease (though their time together last autumn had been deliciously satisfying). Her belly remains slims for the second year in a row, an unwelcome reminder of what seems to be his inability to father a child.
He suspects Isobell might be capable, especially now, but he is unwilling to risk the same with Heda. She’d had flinched away even from his testing-the-water nips; she is too gentle, too sweet, too fragile. Still, Ivar is a creature of instinct (even if they are dueling instincts, at times) and he knows that carrying, and then raising, his child would cement the bond between the pegasus and himself.
kelpie mimicry | dragon scales | tactile hypnosis minimal grullo tobiano king of loess
wanted to go ahead and start our spring thread @[Heda]
She still isn't too happy about the idea of a herd that was brewing within his head. Despite her current standing rank wise, she would rather have him, her first love, all to herself. But as she ponders to herself, she quickly realizes that perhaps there was a reason to this, was he slumming with other women when she was attending her previous Queenly duties? And did she really think she was the only one?
Her heart flutters with jealousy, before she releases a sigh washing away the thoughts from her pretty little head. She's known him ever since he was a yearling, he had always been honest to her except for a few occasions, but he had always been there for her. She allows these sweet thoughts to soak in, as she bows her head to take a sip from the fresh water spring. She hoped he had been honest, she hoped he hadn't been slumming with other women long before this whole herd dilemma. But there was a voice echoing within her head that kept repeating "He did. He probably fucked his way through Beqanna." She sighs once more, gaze flickering and again, washing away her thoughts, blocking out that voice within her head, and holding those sweet memories of them together as a flashlight within the darkness.
She hardly takes notice, to the silhouette looming over the bluff from a short distance, but when her name is emitted out she turns her golden head to her knight and shining armor. She answers with a bubbly tone, "Ivar." As she presses herself against him, nostrils flaring against his skin. The stench of other women lingers on his coat, and she pulls back hesitantly from him. "You've been busy." She adds, jealously spiking in her tone. She had never had to share before, especially sharing her lover, she was reluctant to the idea. As he was hers, just as she was his.
Go ahead. Laugh at the girl that loved to easily
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@[Ivar] lol Jealous Heda. Sorry for the shortness I promise the next one will be longer, I just wanted to get something up.
I V A R i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
For reasons beyond Ivar’s comprehension, the women always resort to insults, to denigrating the others. The scaled creature does not understand this; if they were to choose companions other than Ivar himself, the stallion would not mind. That is their right, so long as they acknowledge that his needs come first.
Heda has always done so.
The buckskin mare is perfectly devoted to the kelpie, an idyllic and loving wife. She is like a princess from a child’s story: sweet, gentle, as fragile and precious as a china doll. Keeping her protected has been his primary directive for years now. Nothing has changed there, not even with his instinctive tie with a paint mare in Nerine. No, Heda is still important, still wanted.
Ivar had hoped that the idea of a herd would ease her into the concept of sharing. Surely she knows that in a herd, the stallion dallies with each of the mare, but the lead is still his favorite. He had wanted that to be reassurance enough for her, but he can tell by the way she pulls away from him that it was not. There is hesitance in her gaze, and jealousy in her voice as she catches the scent of another woman on him – Jhene, probably, or maybe Ichor.
Rather than respond to her bitter words, Ivar leans forward, pressing his scaled muzzle against the slope of her cheek. He brushes a few strands of navy hair away as he pulls back from the affectionate greeting. “I’m here now,” he tells her, his breath soft against her ear, remaining close despite their lack of physical contact. It’s what he has always told her, the reminder that at least he has returned to her. The black and white creature has never pledged his heart to Heda alone; to do so would be to confine himself to a life that his kind were never meant for. He has done his best though, done his best to keep her feeling happy, satisfied. Ivar had kept her safe from Gryffen; continues to do so. He has shielded her from the strain of ruling and given her queenship in all but name.
“I see we weren’t successful,” adds the dark-haired creature, his opalescent shoulder brushing the slim curve of her barrel. She’d be full to bursting now if they had, and there is a flicker of disappointment in the piebald’s pale face as he ponders the cause. He wants children, and has been frustratingly barren despite repeated efforts.
“Perhaps next spring,” Ivar says, pulling away. He knows when to fall back to old standbys, and suspects that now might be such a time. “In the meantime though, I think you should be the Loess’ Ambassador. No one knows the recent history of the kingdom better than you do.” The compliment is truthful, but there is little formality in it. Even as he speaks Ivar is tracing the navy dorsal stripe that runs down Heda’s spine, and he pauses to straighten a few ruffled feathers, the motions both familiar and intimate. “I don’t want to overwhelm you; I know you stepped down for a reason.” He reassures her, reaffirms that he understands. “But if you’d like a bit more responsibility than simply serving as my consort, I’d love to have you as our Ambassador as well.”
kelpie mimicry | dragon scales | tactile hypnosis minimal grullo tobiano king of loess
She feels like she can barely breathe, as if she was being smothered by her own jealousy, and with her quickening breaths follows her heartbeat, thundering loudly in her ears. She finds herself fighting against it, she knows he tries, she knows he loves her, she knows she agreed to all of this, she agreed to him. Her body grows, tense for a moment before she releases a troubled yet some how blissful sigh, bracing against the jealousy within her heart when he greets her kindly, despite her rather unfriendly notion she made. His words, are sweet, and she wants to lean into him but something inside her halts her in her in doing so.
His warm breathe against her navy flecked lobes is a small reminder of the time they shared together last autumn. Speaking of, her eyes drift to her barrel, lacking the mass of that of pregnant women, she had thought that last autumn would result in something, but it seems she has remained thin. Her golden crown bows in a form of disappointment, pressing her forehead against his scaled neck as he speaks of their misfortune. "We can try again." She whispers, in a hopeful yet dismayed tone.
When he pulls away, she flutters her wings in her own for of comfort for herself. She wanted to have a family, that was something she always wanted. She once had one a very long time ago but eventually it all got torn apart piece by piece. Mother left, sisters and brothers were lost to the world, Father disappeared, Taiga was swallowed by the ocean, and Jinju was reborn not ever knowing her true sister as her sister. She flutters her wings once more against her sunlight sides in comfort, as she releases a quiet blissful sigh from her midnight lips.
She remains silent, gaze lowered, and then he speaks in a change of tone. Her hazel hues raise to meet his eyes as he speaks of a possible promotion or rather a position opening of being an ambassador for Loess. She had been quite bored lately, she had little to nothing to do, and something to hold her up and keep her moving could be good for her. She was in a rather dire need for flying lately.
Her mind wanders, as he ever so distractingly runs his muzzle across the bow of her back, her spine, and when he straightens out a few of her feathers, she finds herself leaning against him. And in a rather flirtatious tone she responds, "Oh your overwhelming me." She jokes playfully, navy tail lashing at her hocks. "I'll take it, I'll be our Ambassador." She adds. "So what's on the agenda, my king?" She jokes once more in a rather tempting tone.
I V A R i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
The tension she holds is impossible miss: the quickening of her breath, the tensing of her muscles. Ivar says nothing as Heda sorts through her thoughts, and when she finally releases a troubled sigh he does little more than continue his gentle caresses down her spine. He bends to press a kiss to the bridge of her golden nose when she mentions trying again; he knows that everything is forgiven. She knows that Ivar strays, but she understands that he will return. That is all he has ever wanted her to accept, and as she sighs again – this time more contentedly – he presses another gentle touch to her shoulder.
The change of topic comes at a good time, it seems, for she leans against him and meets his gaze far more openly than she had at their first exchange. The flirtation in his voice has the kelpie smiling, content in the knowledge that all is well again between them. You’re overwhelming me, she says, and there is a primal urge to truly do, to see precisely how she reacts under pressure. But now is not the time nor the season. She has said they can try again and Ivar has always enjoyed the trying. Perhaps this year he will stray less frequently.
Or perhaps he will not.
Instead he tries to focus on her acceptance, on another small burden off his own plate. She takes the position, as he had known that she would, and he starts to say something only to find that Heda is continuing.
He is reconsidering his decision, he realizes. Maybe Heda should stay in Loess after all. She tempts him, and Ivar is unwilling to resist. He closes the space between them until his chest melds with her shoulder, and he holds her more tightly against him, his neck across hers and his scaled muzzle running small circles along her jaw. “I’m not sure,” he tells her honestly, “I’ve never had an Ambassador before.”
Ivar nips suddenly at the edge of her throat, painless but certainly unexpected. He wants to feel her jump, to hear her heart race as she presses against him, to remind her of exactly what type of creature she is tempting. There is a soft humor in his voice when he speaks again, already pressing a soothing touch to her throat. “Though if this is what all monarchs do with their ambassadors, I’m surprised Beqanna isn’t overrun with politicians.”
king of loess minimal smoky grullo tobiano | equus kelpus
She purrs against him, her body intertwined with his in spiraling coils of sunlight, and snow. Her navy plumed velvet burgess against his fair shoulder, as she twists her neck around his cold scaled chest. Her breath braces against his skin, warming his ice scales, as the simmering steam from the spring engulfs them. He caresses her, in the way that makes her want to give every part of her to him, and she in return gifts him with gentle, love embellished kisses, against his neck, and slowly running down his alabaster shoulder.
"Nor have I." She tempts him once more with a flirtatious tone, taking a step backwards into the steamy waters of the hot spring. As he applies, a nip to the underside of her nape, she flinches pulling back for a moment, her heart racing in her chest as she takes a step back, submerging her navy toned appendages in the pleasantly warm waters. "Perhaps we should go for a swim?" She suggests, a pleasurable smile spread wide across her lips.
Curiosity glowing in her eye, she had seen little of his Kelpie side except for his rather unfavorable love-bites he had had gifted her in the past. She wanted to see him for what he was, Kelpie and all. So with a few steps deeper into the steamy waters, the warm liquid lapping at her breast. In her mind she was unbraid of what was to come next, but her heart thundered within her ears, as a short realization washed over her, she had just entered dangerous waters. And with who other, than her Kelpie lover.
Go ahead. Laugh at the girl that loved to easily
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I'm so sorry for the wait <3 Had to deal with evacuating my 16 horses/ponies. Thankfully everyone is safe and I can post again @[Ivar]
I V A R i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
There is chicanery in her touch, and Ivar laughs when he feels it. Soft and sweet and gentle, she reminds Ivar of exactly why she is so precious. The emotion that he cannot manufacture on his own she gives freely, without thought. He has wondered if she knows, or suspects, but has always decided that it does not matter. Heda is his, now and forever. It does not matter why.
When she slides against him, Ivar meets her dark eyes with his own. She is teasing him, he knows, and Ivar is more than willing to come along. She flinches at his nip, and the racing of her heartbeat has him stepping closer even before she invites him. He crowds her into the water, his chest pressing against hers until they are both belly deep in the steaming water. His mouth roves across her neck and settles in the soft feathers of her wings. For a moment he is still, breathing deeply, and then he pulls back to meet her gaze.
She looks eager, curious, delectable.
The swim she has suggested might have been safer a few weeks ago, but the sun has already begun to sink farther in the south. Autumn is coming, and while Ivar wants her, the kelpie does as well. He is more cautious as he moves this time, as he reaches forward and presses at the base of her wing. He wants her to extend it, to feel the warmth of the water as it seeps between her feathers. He wants her to feel the weight of it, to know that futility of flight in his underwater realm.
There is no escape from what she wants of Ivar. He is not entirely sure that she understand this, and nor is he willing to lose her to her curiosity. She is no use to him at the bottom of the spring (as lovely as she’d look as elated as she’d be).
“I want more than a swim,” he tells her. The gravity of his tone is softened by the gentle kiss he presses to her cheek. “You’re not safe in the water.”
king of loess minimal smoky grullo tobiano | equus kelpus
i'm glad everything is okay and you and your animals are fine! <3
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