11-22-2018, 01:55 PM
bottom of the deep blue sea
Docile.Not a word used often to describe the pied mare and not one she would accept readily but she knows when survival was important and the protection of the children was needed. Ivar had never let her down in that aspect. Sure, he took women to his bed that had long ago angered the kelpie mare to the point of blindness but as her mind aged, grew, matured in her youthful frame, she has come to understand the nature of the aquatic beast and accepted his ways.
But she would not limit herself to just his company if that should be the understanding.
She was his first wife, the one to bear strong, smart foals. Her body was what bore kings and queens. She was unreachable in her beauty and her wit. She was a wild animal that allowed the kelpie king to rein her in and control her body from time to time simply because she did allow it. The painted mare nips at the tuft of a gold ear, the press of her lips to his glinting skin as she admires this new body on an old beast.
The pewter eyed mare allows her gaze to drop away and to follow the forms of their children, Mist following after Lothbrok. A single ear flicks towards her husband as they both look on. She shifts her weight in response to his remark, a soft grunt offered, before he suggests a swim.
Isobell is suddenly aware of of the way the dirt has crept between the moonstone and obsidian scales. She suddenly feels ancient and it it bothers some. The water calls her name, her heart yearning as her legs act on their own accord to draw her to darkest depths. "Come, husband, make love to me beneath the waves." The command is soft, throaty with her need, but firm. Isobell slides her body along the man's, placing a well marked nibble to his throat, crow hopping and kicking up sand to race him to the water.