stillwater;

[Nayl]

She spun the stars on her fingernails How is it that she is drawn to his company? It is not love, not even infatuation. Her heart doesn’t beat for the opposite sex, but for her own success and achievements. There has been nothing more that she has craved in life except to exceed her mother in the sisterhood and to make her Amazon ancestors proud. Her bloodline is thick with passionate woman, but how many she isn’t sure. It’s the Jungle that pulses through her veins, not love or motherhood or company; it’s power. Stillwater cannot offer her more than what she has currently and yet she pursues his scent as it permeates the air around her. It’s still on her coat and hovering in the tissue of her nostrils, burdening her at all hours. A quiver runs the length of her spine as she alters her route to find him, but she is in no immediate rush. With a lackadaisical gait she finds him as the sun begins its gradual descent toward the horizon. ”Stillwater,” his name slips from her tongue nonchalantly as though this is just another day, another meeting with no ulterior motive. There is no generous smile because the gesture isn’t quite so common as it would be for others. Alternatively, Nayl prefers to appear stoic although her eyes will blaze with her inner emotions – anger, passion, curiosity – and give some insight as to what is churning in her mind. It’s why she prefers her forelock to conceal her pretty face. Her mind is always protected (it’s rejuvenating to know her mental barrier has been restored) but that doesn’t shield her eyes that are gateways into a scrap of what she knows and wants. While one may guess as to what her fiery eyes are saying, they can only skim the surface of her inner workings, leaving them wanting more. Her footsteps are mere whispers across the sand as she takes her place near him to bathe in his musky odor. Their eyes find one another easily enough but then she looks away as a breeze tousles her locks. ”Are you frightened of my plans, Stillwater?” For a long moment she avoids his gaze, but then she cannot resist any longer. A feeble grin fights its way across her velvet lips as she peers up at him as though taking pleasure in the memory she has of him bristling under her stare at their meeting before he quietly dismissed himself. ”I saw the way you looked at me,” not only did she see, but she also felt his hesitation, tasted his questioning thoughts. Nayl covet and myrina's creation

[Stillwater]

Stillwater

History was repeating.

Once again, he was haunting the very same hill, his silhouette slowly fading with the sinking sun. Each night he left the depths of darkness and the gently trickling ambience of his cavern, kept his silent vigil. He would stare out into the night, unmoving. Watching. Waiting. Then finally at dawn, he'd make his way back home, and vanish from the earth until the moon lit his doorway again.

She had plans locked tight in that clever mind of hers. Plans concerning him, concerning each of the few males that dared to join a sisterhood. It was laughable to think they may actually believe he was one of them. As though his kind would seek out companionship of a herd, long for a soft glance and a lover's touch. Wish for a safety in numbers.
Comical, really.

And yet. Here he was, standing around idly and awaiting the virulent Queen of his land. Just as before with Naga, he was leashed to her schedule, made to hover around until she chose to make an appearance. Obedient without command. It was the title he respected, the power she held over him. Though Nayl did have a certain... charm about her. He wasn't sure she was even aware of it, an accidental allure that softened and intrigued the victims of her fire-eyes.

And then it came. His name slid from her tongue like warm honey, smooth and rich. Immediately, he hated the odd little tingle her voice stirred in his belly, the foreign zip through his veins. With a languid turn-about, dark, gray-blue eyes met her red-hot blaze. He could almost hear the hissing steam rising between them, cool water licking at searing heat.

She appeared in her usual manner; stoic and guarded. He found he missed the day she'd been more open with him. As it was, he shared a similar lack of expression as he tried to read the dancing silence in her eyes. What a pair they made with their neutral faces and careful words. She seemed to feel the seething steam between the clash of their gazes and glanced away.

Gentle drifts of salty sea air combed its grasping fingers through her dark hair, mocking him and claiming her before him. The one he couldn't touch. It found its enjoyment in the darkening of his eyes and teased him further, dragging her tantalizing fragrance through his nostrils.

Cheeky bastard.

"Are you frightened of my plans, Stillwater?" There it was again, his name. Only a name given to him at birth and yet also.. a stealthy warning. And something else entirely on her tongue. The brine of the sea clung to him, as though it originated from him and not the ocean. A sharp tang, deceptively sweet. But she couldn't truly know, could she. The manner of the beast.

The darkness in his eyes laughed at that question. Frightened. But he said nothing, withheld any reaction save the faint light of amusement reflecting back at her. A sneaking grin tried to play at her lips as she met his stare once again, just another tease.

"I saw the way you looked at me."
He almost smiled. Did she mean now, with this raw hunger eating at him, devouring the savory contours of her face? Swallowing the glowing embers of her eyes that singed his skin.
Come and let me cool you.
He let a corner of his mouth tighten with a faint not-grin of his own. Frightened, she'd said.
Not he. Never he.

And if I am? he smoothed casually, a signature slick of water gliding down his coat. His mouth tilted just a hint more.

Am I to believe you'd care?

he... whatever this is, it is your fault :|

[Nayl]

She spun the stars on her fingernails It’s invigorating – so exciting – to know that her secrets remain untouched far beyond prying fingers. They are hers and hers alone, but she of course divulges in some. She can’t tell them everything, but she tells them just enough to satisfy their thirst. Stillwater is no different, but she simultaneously wants to tell him everything. His scent drowns her, intoxicates her, and she almost reaches forward to touch him. They are close – so very near – and his body heat is tangling with her own. She reaches until her whiskers gingerly touch his coat, her heart pattering. Then she stops. Before they can touch, Nayl retracts. Her mouth opens to utter a feeble excuse, but nothing can mask the truth. She has never touched a man and the curiosity is nipping at her heels and eating away at her. It would seem natural to curl herself into the side of a man and yet it’s a frightening concept that would involve her losing dominance over something – someone. Her influence would wither, her independence recede (or so her mind screams when she draws in another lungful of his scent). A storm brews in her mind, but her eyes are steely and unyielding. A brittle grin returns his neutral expression and probing question. The waves play as a momentary distraction as she slips forward to nearly block their oceanic view. It’s a lulling sound that eases her mind despite the gravity of the situation weighing down her shoulders. ”Surprisingly, I’m not entirely heartless,” there has been rumors that she was intending to quash, that being one of them, but their conversation is beyond shattering first impressions and lies. There is a close intimacy tethered to them and cementing them to this patch of beach with the sun looming closer to the horizon. The wind briefly strengthens and caresses her slender body, her forelock and mane whipping across her face as she looks at him. ”Stillwater,” again she says his name like it’s a drug, ”I want you to make an oath to me. I want to know I can trust you and that I can depend on you.” To say this and to admit to the potential of trusting someone almost weakens her. She doesn’t move and her breath catches in her throat as though incapacitated by fear of rejection. Of course, she wants him to oblige. She wants him all to herself. Nayl covet and myrina's creation

[Stillwater]

Stillwater

He'd never stood so still. Conversation was lost in this void of time, and the captivating moment dragged on.

He barely breathed as she crept closer, so careful. Almost hesitant. She reached, and he answered, barely leaning into it. Just enough for her whiskers to touch. They tickled his sensitive skin, and his blood roared. His face was a careful mask of mild curiosity, belly rolling in hunger. Beneath the stoic exterior, muscles were locked and taut, mindful not to let her make contact as he watched her grasping whiskers behind half-lidded eyes. Battling his fierce appetite not to just take what it craved. She was so close. If only he would take it. The slightest move could claim her. His mouth watered.

All he had to do was touch her.

But he couldn't. Any others would do, but this one. She was protected. Off-limits. The proverbial crown encircling her lovely skull warded her from the malevolent spirit swimming just beneath the surface. Like a blessed cross to a demon, he could only come so close before he would rebound away from her. No, he couldn't touch her. But could he really be blamed if she touched him? The unwanted thought pulled at his hunger like a leash to hound.

Touch her.
Don't touch her.

And then she stopped; retreated. Safe again. Saving them both. She was fighting her own battle in that mind of hers, just as he warred with his primal nature. He remained as he was, didn't pull back as she had, as though she were still there. Filling his senses with her fragrance. What were observations of leadership to a starving beast? It had been so long since he'd been truly well and sated. And here she nearly unwittingly delivered herself to him on a royal dish. How long could she withstand his lure? And who was to say he wouldn't just forget about her silly crown.

Ah, but the Queen. No, he supposed he could never forget that. It came with far too much trouble. With a silent sigh he, too, retreated; straightening. When he met her troubled eyes again, he nearly growled for what secret she kept hidden in their depths. Innocence. His eyes flashed with his need, but he forced himself to remain stoic and still. They were always the best, the innocent, the most savory. Who would have guessed this confident, attractive woman would not have even this shallow amount of experience. She was trouble. He was trouble.

The brazen wind cradled her again, shamelessly grabbing and groping the only one he couldn't touch. Mocking him and that damned invisible boundary around her. Relentless prick.
"Stillwater." Her silken voice steadied his gaze on her face. "I want you to make an oath to me. I want to know I can trust you and that I can depend on you."  She didn't even realize how terribly humorous that was.

An oath, he repeated thoughtfully, gray-blue eyes searching her face absentmindedly, lingering on her lips. That is a heavy request of anyone, I imagine. Even for you, princess. A lulling hush settled in, the push and pull of the waves whispering fanciful secrets of the mer-kingdoms.
Don't you already trust me? he asked quietly. More comfortable silence drew out, a stray sea breeze chilling the droplets on his skin. She'd opened up to him once before. Hadn't they shared something then? At least a feeble connection, perhaps?

I want the cave, he slid in softly, edging a single step closer. All those stern expressions she wore never seemed to touch her lips. Always so supple and ripe. The one that smells like me, he added with a sly grin. Do you know that smell? The one that draws you in. Don't you want more of it?   Let it be mine alone. To do whatever I want... With whomever I want. His eyes lifted to lock with hers. Sizzling steam.

What oath would you hold? he asked curiously, a slow smile creeping in.
What would you vow to me in return?

[Nayl]

She spun the stars on her fingernails It’s nearly impossible to resist him, to fight herself on a matter that anyone would find so trivial. Never before has she touched the opposite sex; it’s a mystery in her mind and a lust for her skin. She wants his warmth to spread across her like groping hands, but she also toys with the idea of being untouchable. They want her – Lior, Stillwater – and she wants them, but she refuses to be weak in the face of her temptations. Times like this are tests for her inner strength. Somehow, she is empowered when she reels away from him, leaving him cold and lonely underneath the summer sun. Of course, she notices the hungry flash in his eyes, but she glances away as to hide the smug grin that hesitantly quivers across her lips. But she can’t look away for long. She waits impatiently for his answer, her heart climbing into her throat. Their distance hides her quickening pulse just as her stony façade protects her worry for rejection. When he repeats that one heavy word – “oath,” he says with his breath hot – she levels her gaze onto his and listens. Perhaps it is drastic, but her trust in others is so minimal that she doesn’t even second guess her request. Instead, she holds herself steadily, unyielding to his scrutinizing eyes. ”I want to,” she murmurs uncertainly, ”but you are close to Naga, no?” The change of leadership had been too simple and Celeana too angry. She anticipates them to overthrow her and take her down in any way they can. Nayl, ever prepared, only wants to surround herself with those she can bring herself to trust and to carry her word as law. When she looks at Stillwater she remembers when they had opened up, but it wasn’t enough for her. Will anything ever be enough for her? There is a falter in her iced-over face when he regards the cave. She is haughty and expectant at first, but her eyes narrow when he admits his intentions – to do what he wants with whom he wants – and she hesitates. A lump forms in her throat that she forces down with a swallow. ”Fine,” her response is brusque, her fiery eyes hardening as she remembers to breathe. ”With whomever,” the repetition is bitter on her tongue and her lip almost curls in distaste before she stops it, ”so long as you remember your priorities.” In what way, she says not. The elaboration doesn’t come, only silence for a long moment as she looks at his damp coat then to the ocean in front of them. ”You would be a high-esteemed trusted friend in all my endeavors,” the word friend is foreign on her tongue as she has always eluded building any relationship to that degree, but there are three that she would allow to have pieces of her frigid heart. There are benefits for them, but she doesn’t sate his curiosity. Time will tell and grant those things if they are so fortunate. ”What else do you want besides your whore cave?” Ever eloquent in her ways. Nayl covet and myrina's creation

[Stillwater]

Stillwater

Don't you already trust me..

"I want to, but you are close to Naga, no?"

A smile crept up his lips. She was Queen, and I only a humble man under her reign. It was the truth. Naga had not stayed long enough to know him and learn to confine him. Now he hoped Nayl would be equally lenient. He did have his own regulations, he wasn't entirely unhinged, but rulers could always pose trouble on his.. less than ideal habits.
And now you are Queen. A humble man. A solitary creature.

He studied her from his place a few feet away, where she'd pulled away from their almost-touch. She didn't realize that should she decide one day to change her mind, give in to their shared desire to feel his warm muscles against her luxurious skin, he would be the one to step away. She was too conflicted, and probably would not ever be bold enough to make that decision. Not with him. Even still, he couldn't allow it no matter how she seemed to toy with his natural desires. A Queen was too much trouble.

Something changed in her demeanor. Only the slightest shift. Colder, now. More stern and distant. It tickled his senses in delight. Is this jealousy, my Queen? he thought with amusement. With an icy chill in her voice, she granted him his cave. And with it, his complete freedom. He closed his eyes and breathed deep, relieved, as though he could feel the metaphoric leash around his neck loosening and falling to the ground. Freeing him.

Anything he wanted, with anyone he wanted.

"With whomever," her sharp voice cut in. He chuckled softly, daring to take another step closer to her as he searched her fire-eyes for the truth. She thought he wanted a number of women beneath him, did she? She thought he was weak and uncontrolled, just a man that followed his lust wherever it took him? She thought it was mindless sex that would sate him.
Mmm.. he hummed low in evident pleasure, eyelids drifting slowly closed and vacuuming in that teasing fragrance of hers. He could play this image for her. If it was a lustful man she wanted to see him as, he could oblige. But only a little. Just for today.

What if it were you that I was asking for? Can you imagine what we could do in there together? Concealed from prying eyes. Complete freedom to do what I want, with whom I want. He let it weigh between them, his eyes dancing; not an invitation as she might think, but a challenge. One he never expected her to accept, but couldn't help but lay it bare before her, curiosity be damned.

He had that liberty now. She had granted it to him.
Whomever he wanted.

"You would be a high-esteemed trusted friend in all my endeavors," she continued, clarifying what she thought were benefits to this trading of oaths. Back to business then, he supposed. "What else do you want besides your whore cave?" He clucked his tongue at her sadly, a soft frown pulling at his handsome face before sobering smoothly.
Do not think that you know me, he said quietly, even but kind as he circled to her side, appraising her. Another stealthy warning. She would not get another.

He let a faint smile soften his expression.
What exactly will you require from me? What sort of... duties will you ask of me? He nearly spit out the vile word. Duties. Like some servant. She may be his Queen, but they were equals in his mind. He was, after all, a King in his own way. Whether she knew it or not. No, he was more than a King. And he would not vow to her blindly like some naive fool. He would not be twisted into secret schemes of her vicious mind without the chance to refuse them just for swearing allegiance to her.

[Nayl]

She spun the stars on her fingernails ”So, now you are merely a humble man under my reign,” his statement triggers another bout of mistrust. He obeys who possesses the throne, who can promise something. He is not loyal, not entirely. The corded muscles in her jaw clench uncertainly and her eyes flicker away. Perhaps this is a mistake; maybe this was a moment of lapsed judgment. While there is amusement gleaming in his slate eyes, Nayl reveals only her meticulous thinking. The lull of the ocean waves makes for a calming backdrop as she weighs the situation only to find him still staring at her when her head turns to face him again. A question hangs perilously from her tongue, but she bites it back when he hums and haws. They cannot deny the sexual tension that is brewing between them, but while Stillwater bathes in it, Nayl tries to run. She scowls at him and her nostrils quiver with the expelling of a snort. Although it would be tempting - exhilarating – to be concealed in the cave with him, she eludes the playfulness of the thought. ”I remain untouched,” a brow lifts beneath her forelock as a lopsided grin brightens her face, ”and rather enjoy that.” She is pure and not tainted by the sexual acts the world encourages every year, and she doesn’t yet have a child to mar her reputation. But one day she knows that she will have to build a legacy. ”You can want me,” she breathes onto his skin, still only inches away from him, ”but you won’t have me.” Nayl doesn’t admit how easily that could change and how on a whim she could decide on him. That would give him far too much satisfaction, too much confidence, and so her lips purse tightly shut as her attention lazily drifts back to the ocean in front of them. His question goes unanswered for a long while as she observes the seagulls soaring above the tide and the sun tucking itself behind the clouds. This new world has breathed life into her and a vivaciousness that she cannot ignore. Her tail sweeps idly across her hocks, her heart calmly beating in her chest. ”Can your loyalty be so easily bought?” She finally asks after having bitten it back previously. Stillwater has circled around to her other side and his hooded eyes are watching her so very intently. Only after asking does she meet his gaze, but this time mirroring his own earlier amusement. ”All I want is you to be by my side throughout this reign,” not as king, but as something else that she treasures far more, ”All I want is to be able to trust you.” Nayl covet and myrina's creation

[Stillwater]

Stillwater

Untouched.
Something flared to life in his dark eyes, but he held back any comment. She would not enjoy her lack of intimacy so much if she knew how very wonderful it could feel. How he could feel. He didn't think he would be the one to help her discover it though. Not with her resolve to keep away from his touch. Not with his determination to leave her be, from him. For now, she was safe from him. It made this relationship a taunting and irritating thing. To desire something, to have the power to take it, and to only be able to admire from a distance.

Goddamn Queen.

The incredibly satisfying heat on his skin from her sweet breath pushed him back. He retreated from it. "You can want me, but you won't have me."  She had no idea how true it was, pretentious woman. The others though, they did not have burdensome crowns on their heads warding him off. He looked out to the water as she did, jaw clenched, eyes cooled. Agitated. And not caring to hide it from her. Let her see how much he despised this. At least she could once again enjoy his openness with her.

"Can your loyalty be so easily bought?" she asked as his gaze settled on her again. Cool, dark eyes met hers when she faced him again, amusement lightening her fire. He blinked back, silently grinding his teeth. He was not bought. Loyalty. Was there anything she could promise him that would grant her that reward? That which was not given to anyone. His loyalties always remained with himself. Only himself. Solitary creature.

"All I want is you to be by my side throughout this reign.
All I want is to be able to trust you."

He held his silence. Disassembling it in his mind piece by piece. Trying to discern the lie, the hidden meaning. It was clear she did not desire a coupling, a mate. What use would he be at her side? His eyes darkened with a new suspicion.
...No, she couldn't know. What, then?

Trust. Loyalty. She asked for so much. Did she have any idea what those words even meant for him. Why couldn't it be a simple task for him to accept or deny? Instead, she asked the world of him, and Queen or not, she had no right to it. This was not something he could deliver her. Loyalty to the crown, possibly. Because the counter was too much trouble. But that wasn't what she asked for. Loyalty to her was what she really desired. She gave him nothing that would win that for her.

You ask too much of me, he said softly in honesty, his eyes falling to her tasteful lips once again. More openness for her. Though he really shouldn't.
But he wouldn't leave her empty-handed.
He would give her at least something to quiet her mind.

I want no other on your throne. And I certainly don't want it for myself, he said firmly but flat. Which is the only thing keeping me from you.

Would it be enough for her? What was she really after here?

[Nayl]

She spun the stars on her fingernails His hesitance doesn’t escape her. His reluctance doesn’t avoid her notice. Nayl can see – feel – how uneasy he is about what she is asking, and yet her fiery stare never softens. It bores into him hungrily – wishfully – but she can’t bring herself to admit to him how much she wants him to oblige. She had watched mother grovel for attention from men and it gave her nothing in return. Myrina wanted and required love to function, but it led to disappointment and eventually death. Nayl promised herself not to follow in mother’s footsteps, and thus far, she hasn’t. Her entire life has been spent eluding males and evading any charm they may have. They are distractions, she reinforced daily, and yet here she stands, only inches away from Stillwater, and wanting so much more than mere conversation. The lust burns in her eyes when they fall on his own steely gaze. Even as he denies her there is still a gleam of acceptance. Her elation is lost beneath her forelock as her head drops to avoid his raking look of want and insufficiency. ”It isn’t.” she protests with an eerily calm voice, ”There have been hundreds of horses that have been able to be loyal to one another,” but as the words slip from her mouth she wonders what her underlying motive is and why she wants him to accept so desperately. ”I’ll take that,” she immediately recovers and stiffens, as though trying to sweep her vulnerability under the carpet (but it is far too late for that now). ”I had made a promise to myself as a child,” suddenly she is opening up to him, but there is still some guarding when she peers up at him curiously. For a moment, Nayl seeks a reaction, but then she hisses a breath through her clenched teeth and continues. ”I promised myself to never fall into the same trap as my mother. She was distracted by stallions and so never lived up to her dreams or potential. It led to her demise, eventually.” Why is she admitting this? Is it to console herself and give reason for her coldness and distance, or is it solely so he can understand her more? She doesn’t know, but suddenly she doesn’t care in this heated intimacy with their skins only inches apart. ”So, I’ve avoided stallions my entire life. I never spoke or touched a male; I had no interest after watching what happened to my mother.” Myrina’s image flashes across the back of Nayl’s eyelids when she slowly blinks. A drawn out breath expands her lungs then gradually expels into the salty air where seagulls fill the pause. Elevating her head, Nayl meets Stillwater’s eyes again as uncertainty crackles through her. ”And yet, here I am with you.” Nayl covet and myrina's creation

[Stillwater]

Stillwater

"There have been hundreds of horses that have been able to be loyal to one another."

Somehow, he managed not to scoff, knowing full well she would not return the same loyalty, did not even expect it of herself. He would never give what was not already equally given to him in turn. Even still, he wasn't sure loyalty was something he even had available to give to anyone. Not his kind of loyalty. Most especially to a temptress Queen who didn't know what she truly wanted.

She told him of her vow to herself, not to fall prey to a man's heat at her side. She told him that she'd avoided stallions her whole life, and he wondered why she didn't see that as her weakness. As though a man could have control over her, the boogieman of her adult life. He shook his head to himself, but he wouldn't tell her how a man at her side could make her stronger instead of weak. How one might support her, raise her higher, hold her steady. He couldn't risk giving her any crazy ideas. Or making her more powerful than she already was.

"And yet, here I am with you."

His eyes darkened as he met her gaze once again. She was good at this game, and he was wondering if she knew she was even playing it. But more importantly, would he dare to play it back? It held him silent for a long while, staring into her eyes, trying to figure her out. What the hell did she want from him? What was the point in this back and forth, the push and pull that she did with him.

And why are you here with me? he challenged. Why do you dare try to make me feel special. As though I mean something when we both know that I do not.  He considered giving her what she desired, that she wasn't aware that she wanted so badly.

His hot breath fanned across her muzzle, his eyes falling helplessly to her perfect face again. Stupid woman. She had no idea who she was toying with. And then his mouth was stupid, too, spitting out things he never meant to say, in such a melting, gentle whisper no less. To someone else, anyone else, yes. But not to her, the Queen.

I could show you, Queen. With a touch you could see that you won't crumble to the floor.
No, instead you will fly..

He stiffened, his eyes sharpening as he jerked back with an airy hiss. As though she stung him. Burned him. He spun away before she could take up that thoughtless offer. Like hell, he would touch her. Not this one, not her. Untouchable in both directions. Stupid woman. Stupid man. It would never happen. He glared at her over his shoulder as he continued his escape, a look of pure menace with his teeth bared, to keep her back.

Leave me be, woman, he demanded harshly in a gravelly voice.
Nevermind the quickening of his pulse.
Nevermind the Hunger demanding him to act.

He wouldn't take this one.

ooc: err...well then. :| that..oughta make his disappearance a little more interesting i suppose. :|