Queen To The Dragon King Pt 02

Ciara had spent seven days as a captive of ecstasy.

The King of the Forest had exhausted her body time and again. When she hungered, her King had fed her, and when she was thirsty, he provided her water. He slept with her pinned beneath his forearm, and she spent most of her nights with his seed, thick and slippery, soaking into her body.

He had not told her a name, nor had he ever asked hers. She was "Queen", or "my Queen", but when he said it, with his voice a harsh growl and his words a resounding baritone, he might just as well have been calling her "my plaything" or "my pet". And she felt much like a pet, crawling about in the shadowy darkness of the cave, brewing her marvelous potions to make her body ready for her King's desires. Not that she had ever failed to enjoy herself; the King gave her great pleasure even as he took such pleasures for himself.

Ciara felt a dull ache in her stomach; her potion was wearing off again. With a sigh, she slid from beneath her King's arm. She heard the coins, rocks, and gems that made up his bed

shift

, as he tucked his arm beneath him.

If she was to have a master, her King was one of the best. If she were to say he had shown no kindness, she would also hurry to say he had shown no cruelty, and if the same choice were put to her again, to offer herself to spare her village, she would make it, and gladly.

She filled the small golden bowl the King had given her with water from the basin at the side of the cave. Before the King had taken her, the most gold she had seen was in precious wedding rings, or the occasional purse of travellers from afar. Her King slept on wealth such as she had never imagined. And now, Ciara bathed from that wealth. Stories told that dragons were creatures of avarice, always craving more and never having enough, but thus far the King never hesitated to share his possessions, his lair, or his meals with her.

Her hands washed and clean, Ciara sighed, and looked over to the ingredients she used for her potions. She was low on a few of the herbs her mixture required, and was out of honey. The wine, she'd learned already, could be substituted for the fresh juice of sweet berries, but the honey was, so far as she knew, irreplaceable.

She glanced to the King. His manner was a strange mix of many other beasts; it was as though he was a cat, a man, a lizard, and even a bird, at times. When he slept and did not curl around her, he tucked his head around to rest on his rear flank, and curled his tail beneath his neck, reminding Ciara of a dozing kitten beside a warm fire, tightly curled and sleeping deeply. She glanced to the entrance of the cave. When he woke, he nearly always required immediate satisfaction. Without her brew in her system, she shuddered to think what his strength, or his

girth

, could do to her body.

She knew the swamp, at least pieces and parts. She'd played in it as a girl, against her mother's wishes; she'd stared off into the trees trying to catch a glimpse of the King of the Forest long before she'd bought her precious book of potions from that traveller. The King often slept for hours at a time, another similarity to an immense, scaled cat. Ciara was confident she could be away, find her honey, berries and roots, and be back with the potion brewed and ready by the time her King awoke. Besides, the chance to stretch her legs and feel the sun on her face might do her some good, she reasoned.

Quietly, Ciara searched through the stored chests from the King's plunders. Previously, the King had told her to dress herself from the garments found there; many were of fine silks and elaborate make, and Ciara has already spent hours tying them on. Selecting a lovely green dress, she prepared for a quick trip into the swamp. She'd have to be barefoot, for her shoes had long since gone missing, but her satchel was intact, to hold the supplies she found. She licked her lips, breathed deeply once more of her King's scent and the air of his cave, and slipped away to the surface.

The light from the sun was bright and warm, and feeling it on her face stunned Ciara for a moment. She wondered if somehow, in the intervening days, the world had gotten brighter again instead of continuing towards the darkness of winter. She breathed deeply; while the aroma of the swamp had a foulness of its own, it was still welcome to get a breath of air from a place where the air was not heavy with the musk of the King and the scent of their sex. She took a few light steps, enjoying the feeing of the mud between her toes, and spread her arms into the warmth of the late-day sun. She laughed, feeling wonderfully

free

, to be out of the cave. A pang of guilt passed through her, but she shook her head. While she would not leave her King's side, she had to admit that the cavern he dwelled in was made for

his

kind, not hers. She could not begrudge herself the occasional feeling of open spaces and clean air.

Well, clean

er

. It

was

still a swamp.

With a sigh, Ciara adjusted the satchel on her shoulder and started on her way. She knew the plants she was looking for: love-in-idleness, a maiden's lily, and sweet raspberries. Oh, and a peach, if she found a tree for such. She would also keep an eye and ear out for the plump, striped body or gentle buzzing of a honeybee, and follow it back to the hive. She'd gathered honey often enough that she knew to light a fire from green grasses and fresh branches, for the smoke would render the bees sleepy enough to give her an opportunity to gather their nectar for herself.

As she walked about, Ciara found she was smiling to herself and only just barely kept herself from humming. Tracking a fuzzy honeybee back to its hive proved to be as easy as she'd hoped, and lighting a fire that gave off ample white smoke was simple enough. Minutes later, her jar was again full of honey while and her satchel had been filled with flowering plants. While a little wine would not have gone amiss, she had everything she needed.

She'd gathered everything just in time, for the sun was descending and the shadows growing longer. She straightened, looked about, and determined to make her way back to her King's lair.

It was only then that Ciara realized she was not entirely sure which direction the King's lair would be from here. She looked about, realizing that the dimming light had blended and muted the colors and rendered the landmarks less distinct.

She was lost.

She considered calling out for the King, getting him to help her find her way back. She wasn't sure he would be awake, or be pleased to find her out wandering about. She bit her lip, and considered her options. Wandering barefoot through the swamp in the darkness didn't seem like a good choice, but other options had yet to present themselves.

She sighed, and tapped her fingers on the satchel, and murmured her uncertainty to herself. Taking a deep breath, she called out, "King?"

Ciara hesitated a moment, and at first, only silence answered her; not true quiet, for it was filled with the hum of insects, the sound of running water, and the quiet creak the trees and grasses made as they feasted on the waters of the swamp.

So, noise, not silence. But certainly no response, either.

Ciara drew a deep breath, as she felt her heartbeat beginning to quicken and her face to flush. She'd somehow become lost. Somewhere in this swamp was the lair of the King, but now she had no idea where that might be. She wasn't sure if this would be a breach of their unspoken agreement. She wasn't sure if he was awake, or asleep, and wasn't sure if he would come looking for her or not. Or perhaps he'd simply fly straight away to the village and

take

...

"My Liege!" Ciara called out, louder. Her voice waivered, with an edge, and she bit her lip immediately after hearing it.

She walked across the clearing and hesitated again at the tree line. Calling into the trees, she repeated, in a speaking tone, "My Liege?"

Ciara licked her lips again, and stepped cautiously forward. As she did, from behind her, she heard a guttural rumbling sound, a feral sound, as if some immense ...

She looked back over her shoulder, and saw a large shape making its way through the undergrowth. She saw the shadow of a pair of wings, half-folded, and a widened tail curling from its back.

She sighed in relief. "My King! I went to get some ..."

Her voice froze in her throat. Whatever shadow it was in those bushes, it was

not

her King.

The shadow moved out of the bushes, and became a shape. As its' forepaw came to rest on the ground, Ciara could see that the paw was wide, as wide as a dinner plate. Instead of scales like her King, there was instead dark tan fur, and rising above the paw was a massive, barrel-sized chest, with a triangle of white fur. Further above, a mane of dark chestnut surrounded a terrible face. It had the bearing of a man, in that it had eyes and a chin and cheeks and a forehead, but it also had the split lip and upturned nose of a great cat. It also bared teeth, terrible teeth, and bore a set of whiskers which resembled a mustache and beard, which swept out to merge with the wide, dark mane. The creature's tongue lapped at its teeth, and it flexed its paw to reveal long and sinister claws.

Whatever this beast was, it was surely not her King.

Ciara turned to face the creature, holding her arm out in front of herself, and setting her back to a thick tree behind her. "Woah..." she said, quietly, waving downwards with her hand. This creature, whatever it was, was immense; while not as large as the King of the Forest, it was nonetheless much bigger than Ciara herself, being slightly taller to the shoulder and heavier in build than a workhorse. Its' body was that of a great feline, and resembled stories Ciara had heard of from other lands of great predatory cats. From the beast's shoulder blades, a pair of wings extended; they were not wholly unlike the wings of her lover, but lacked his grace or quality, with the edge of them seeming to lie in tatters, and the forward edge coming to a sharpened tip.

It was a

lion

, Ciara thought. A gargantuan lion, with ... with the face of a man. She swallowed, straining to believe what she saw, and not to panic. The great cat's eyes narrowed, and it continued half a step forward, producing a low, rumbling growl that sent a shiver up Ciara's spine, setting her hair on end.

"Woah." Ciara repeated. Her eyes searched the ground for something she could use as even the most makeshift of weapons; a club, a staff or preferably a spear. There were roots, mosses, branches ... but none seemed suitable to protect against the oncoming monstrosity for even a moment.

"Food." A deep, rumbling voiceinterrupting Ciara's thoughts. Her eyes blinked, and she stared at the creature. It ran a wide, barbed tongue ran over its lips, and it spoke again, repeating "Food."

"Uhm.", Ciara responded, surprised and all the more afraid for the fact that the creature could apparently speak. "No ... I'm ... not food. No, no. Uhm. Cook? Cook food? I could ... prepare you..."

The beast sniffed at the air, and curled its' lips. "Breed.", it said, and then nodded. "Breed."

Ciara felt her blood run cold. "Oh, no. No, no no. I ... don't breed. No breeding. I'm ... already ... the King, and I..."

"No!", the monster snarled. "No. No King.

I

am King." It curled its lips to show a maw of curved, pointed teeth. Ciara swallowed. "We breed."

The beast stepped further out from the undergrowth, far enough that Ciara could make out a wide, curling tail that swept up in an arc above the creature's own height. The tail was covered in plates, making it seem that it was the tail of an insect. The tail came to a sharp, curved tip, an obvious stinger which flexed up and down repeatedly. The beast gave forth an unsettling snarl and then advanced another step. "We breed", the creature repeated as it spread the stance of its back legs.

Ciara tried very hard not to look. She was willing to make assumptions about what was menacing her from between the creature's hind legs and did not want to accidentally have them confirmed. She tried to maintain eye contact with the cat-creature, but Ciara couldn't help but glance up occasionally to see the menacing stinger that threatened from above.

"Uhm ...

no.

", Ciara answered forcefully, trying to banish any hesitation from her speech. "No, we definitely

do not

. I ... I am Queen to the King of the Forest. I ... I don't think we could, uh,

breed

, anyway ..."

"Me male. You not. We breed.", the creature said, running his paw along the dirt, claws tearing open a tree branch. "

Then

eat. Helps flavor." The beast widened the stance of its forepaws, and leaned down, into a position Ciara could recognize from the barn cats around the village. It was preparing to

pounce

.

Ciara lowered herself to the ground, bending at the knee while leaning slightly forward. The best thing available to her was a three-foot section of a willow limb, likely too flexible to provide a useful weapon. As she descended, she murmured, letting herself sob lightly, "No, no no, no...", as muttered, trying to reassure herself and taunt her attacking into striking while she extended her hand slowly enough to avoid notice.

The beast leapt forward. Its great size belied its terrible speed, and it covered the eight paces between itself and Ciara with a single bound. Ciara seized her chance, tucking herself down and rolling forward, grasping the willow branch, and getting under the pounce, between the creature's last legs. The feline continued its arc over Ciara's head, and its thick paw sliced through the air behind Ciara's head. Ciara continued into her roll, setting her feet to quickly pull herself up to standing, quickly turning as she thrust the end of her newly-discovered makeshift spear at her opponent. The creature found its footing quickly, and circled around Ciara in a few quick steps, snarled at Ciara from the other side of the clearing while she now stood closer to the middle. She set her face, trying to glower back at the creature with a face as menacing and resolved as its own.

"

Back off!

" she snarled, thrusting forward with the branch. She widened her stance, trying to be ready for the creature to pounce.

In response to Ciara's taunt the beast raised a paw that brandished its curved claws again and releasing a feral snarl. "Mine!" snarled the creature, before letting out a bellow. Ciara narrowed her eyes to protect from the rush of hot, rancid air and the spray of the creature's spittle.

Ciara bit her lip. In a sense, she was fortunate to be so stressed, as it was keeping her from crying or simply collapsing. Summoning her reserves, she cried out, "I am

not

yours!", waiving the spear again. "I am the Queen of this forest, bride to the King, and I am

not

yours!"

The beast hesitated, and its tail flexed. Ciara glanced to her side, judging the distance out of the clearing. She began side-stepping, bit by bit, being cautious to stay facing the beast. The creature snarled, and took a half-step towards her; she countered by raising her weapon a few inches and taking a half-step forward herself. She breathed heavily, flaring her nostrils as she forced the creature into a partial retreat.

She had her moment of advantage, and had no choice but to press it. Taking a deep breath, she bolted for the edge of the clearing, and ducked behind a thick tree. From behind her, she heard a solid

whump

, and felt splinters of wood connecting with her shoulder.

Again she ducked, rolling between and beneath a pair of bushes, to come up on the far side and head to her left, to the east; the most general direction to the King's lair that she could recall.

She heard the bushes rustle behind her as the enormous creature pursued her. Doggedly, she hopped over a log, and around another thick tree, but just moments later she heard the log burst open. She leapt a root, then deked to the right to avoid being swatted by the beast's paw. She set her foot on another of the roots and

heaved

, throwing herself into the air by enough to grasp an overhead tree limb, only to use the momentum to throw herself another few feet forward. She landed on her feet, and pressed forward again, tucking into a half-leap. She misjudged her landing, though, and stumbled, failing to find her footing and crashing to the ground, landing on her stomach. The wind was knocked out of her; clumsily, she struggled to pull herself up to continue, her hands slipping in the mud. She pressed, desperate to stand, to flee, but a great pressure on her back pushed her chest back down into the mud. Ciara gasped and tried to take a deep breath of air, twisting the makeshift spear in her hands and flailing with in in an attempt to force the beast off of her back. The spear was too long for Ciara to wield, and she felt it thump ineffectively off the creature's forelegs.

From above her, she heard a menacing snarl that broke into a chuckle. "I have you.", said the sinister purr above her. Above the paw, Ciara felt five sharp points press through her clothing, and into her flesh. A low growl came from the creature, and she felt it lower more of its weight onto her, and she sank into the mud. The beast lowered its head to take a deep breath from just over her head, gathering the smell her. "I take you from King. I

take

you."

Ciara felt something probe at the hem of her skirt. Tears stung against her eyes and she felt her feet thrash. Ciara tried to scream, but didn't have enough air in her lungs to force out a noise. With a low whimper, she felt her consciousness start to waiver, and her grasp on the spear weakened. As her vision began to cloud over, she tried one last time to gasp, to struggle, to

resist

, only to hear herself quietly whisper, "My King..." into the mud, before sobbing.

A massive

whump

sound relieved the heavy pressure on Ciara, and sprung her back to consciousness. Her head jerked up as she gasped, allowing her lungs to recover their pressure. Far to her left there was a tremendous crashing sound as if some great object had been hefted into the trees. When she looked, her suspicions were confirmed; twelve yards from her, the beast was righting itself among toppled trees.

A bellow, primal and fierce, sounded to her right; the trees trembled, and she felt the wind whip around her, and she could not help but smirk as she turned her head. Mere feet from her, the King of the Forest settled into a landing, rearing up with his wings spread wide and his tail held aloft and threatening. He shifted, only so much, and his left foreleg came down on her far side, so that she was beneath him and protected by his body.

"Did the manticore harm you, my Queen?" the King asked, before letting loose a hiss, directed at the creature that stared at them from the trees.

She coughed, and wiped the mud and blood from her face. "Not ... no. No, it..."

"Be certain." He commanded. "Their sting is fatal. No tingling? No burning sensation, in your buttocks or legs?" He still did not look at her, instead keeping his gazed fixed on the manticore some dozen yards distant.

She shook her head. "No. No. He didn't mean to ... to eat me, first. He wanted to, uhm ..."

Her voice caught for a moment as she hesitated to specify what the creature had planned to do with her before making a meal from her body. The message, though, had obviously been conveyed; the King lowered his torso, spreading his forelimbs, while tensing his powerful haunches. His wings tucked up, back, and away, no longer spread. He was carefully minimizing the facing that he presented to the threat, and preparing to strike.