Who: Jet, M’tan, Kyramith, Sirhyth
When: Month 13, 203 AT
Where: Court of Shadows, Honshu Territory
What: Kyramith rises over the Hold.
It must be that it happens too suddenly for Jet to realise just what is happening until it’s too late, since Kyramith has never risen over her home or seemed to demonstrate any interest in doing so. She prefers the cold of the ‘Reaches, after all. Maybe she just wants to claim the skies around the Hold as hers, what with the territory having been formally claimed by her rider and Sirhyth’s. She’s blooded perhaps once since she’s been old enough to rise, but today she dives for the pens that contain the animals meant for her and Sirhyth, tearing into the first beast that she finds to look up again with her muzzle and eyes tainted by the same blood red. Climbing the stairs from the second floor to the third, Jet pauses, only to redouble her pace to get to the quarters in which she and M’tan live before anyone might encounter her as her control begins to slip.
Sirhyth’s bugle renders the quiet skies into a challenge to any who may try and dare take Kyramith from him. He watches her as she bloods, sense on high alert for any potential males who might drift towards the Hold and try to join their flight. Some of the inhabitants of the Court have never felt the rippling effect of a dragon’s lust, those that have find themselves trying to break up arguments and redirect people’s fury into more positive, sensual, pursuits. M’tan’s quick to work his way through the halls, ignoring those who try and stop him to discuss the dragons and their habits, the door to his quarters opened and shut firmly behind him. He locks the door and calls to Jet, “Are you here?”
There’s no great battle between Jet and Kyramith that keeps the latter to taking only the blood of her kill. Indeed, she only makes that singular kill, uninterested in further destruction when the death of one does well enough for a green of her size, paws padding through blood as she hops the fence and crouches low, eyeing the skies. << Only you, >> is meant for Sirhyth alone, but she’s not exactly careful with how far her voice might reach. << Only ever you. >> And then she’s off, pushing for height, an arrow loosed. From the way of the bathing room, Jet wanders her way towards M’tan, her black dress already shed in favour of equally black undergarments, the hem of her soft shift hardly decent at all. “You better catch us,” is a warm warning, delivered with the beginnings of a smirk as she lifts up onto her toes and tugs him down to her to demand a kiss. “You have an audience this time, after all.”
Sirhyth’s shadows offer a feline like purr, the touch against Kyramith’s mind much like a feline brushing against a leg. He follows after her, having blooded no beast, there’s only her bloody paw prints for some hapless beastcrafter to find later in the day. He keeps his shadows swirling around her, encouraging her to go as high and as fast as she dares. << Mine. Love. Always mine. >> He’s lost the need to focus for potential threats, his sights set only on his mate. Jet’s appearance renders M’tan utterly speechless, that casual, loose half-smile of his offered as he takes in the sight of her. “Do I?” he croons against her lips, nipping after he exchanges a longer one. “Just as well.” He loops his arms around her waist so he can hike her up into his arms. He shifts to press her against the wall, lips and teeth raking down along her neck. “You do love to taunt me in these garments.”
If she were to fly far, away from the Hold, perhaps there would be a greater chance of some stray male or another encountering her, but Kyramith pushes up through the skies as if she could aim for the stars themselves, lunar light a faint, sparkling path for Sirhyth to follow as she breaks through layers of pale clouds. Jet laughs as M’tan lifts her up, tightening her legs around his waist while she lets her head tip back against the wall, better baring her neck to his attentions, her fingers hooking into his collar. “I thought you might be taking them off of me later, but now will do just as well.” A hand lifts to thread into his hair, tugging to encourage his lips back to hers. “Better, even.” More of that low, pleased laughter. “Much better. Though if anyone interrupts us, I’ll have to kill them.”
Sirhyth follows Kyramith up and up and up, those clouds dissipating with each wingbeat of theirs. He waits until she is higher than she’s ever been before he swoops over her, his midnight shadows draping darkness over her lunar lights. He twines with her swiftly, his dive towards their home a swift plummet downwards. M’tan’s laughter is a husky huff against her neck. “Don’t kill anyone,” he murmurs as he nips along her throat and chin. “I’d hate to stain the carpet.” He presses her against the wall and lets his hand rip at the bottom half of her lingerie. When Sirhyth claims Kyramith, M’tan’s lost to the skies. Hands rip at his clothing and Jet’s, cloth shredded without a single thought. He has Jet against the wall, on the floor, their work table, any and every where as he thoroughly loses himself to her need and his own. Sirhyth takes Kyramith just outside of their home, where they might rest in the view of what is theirs. << Mine >> he curls his shadows around her mind. << Always. >>
Kyramith summons not even token resistance, letting Sirhyth twine himself with her, only twining herself with him in her surrender and willingness to let him decide how they fall and where they will land, the flickering, starlit threads of what influence a green may have drawing the Hold below all the more into distraction and soft sighs behind closed doors. Jet couldn’t care less about what the rest of the Hold is doing with their time, too lost in what a fall from such a height makes of both M’tan and herself, ruined clothing cast aside and forgotten in her haste to get to skin and give herself to her husband as her lifemate does to her mate. It’s as they finally reach their bed that some faint semblance of awareness surfaces and she crawls to drape herself over him, propping herself on her elbows to keep her lips lazily tracing across his chest. “I love you, you’re mine and I’m never letting you go.” Kyramith echoes the same, the now slow whirl of her gaze taking in the sight of the Hold before she tucks herself closer to Sirhyth and rests her head on one of his paws, drifting to sleep safe in his embrace.
M’tan’s all smiles and ease as he drifts his fingers down along Jet’s spine, content with her closeness to him. “You’d best go Between unless we want another child,” he murmurs, voice roughened by the vocal claims he made during their bonding. Sirhyth drapes a wing over Kyramith and sends out a rumble, a deep toned sound, to warn any dragons away from them. M’tan hugs Jet to him in answer to his dragon’s claims. He doesn’t realize tears escape past his lids as he kisses her hair. “I never thought we’d do this,” he tells her, as he huffs out another laugh, that has hints of his emotional state in it’s rasp. “Own our Hold. Take care of our people. Have each other. There’s nothing we have to fear, no one we have to worry about. I have never felt so in control of my life.” He tightens his arms about her and flips her to the side, spooning his body against hers as he twines his legs between hers. A whisper of breath in her ear, “I love you. You gave me this. You give me everything.” And a kiss to her cheek. “Thank you.”
“Maybe I won’t,” Jet murmurs, too pleased to truly register her own words until M’tan hugs her to him, her hands sliding over sheets as she lowers her head to rest atop his heart, pausing there for only a moment before she looks up at him again and moves to kiss away his tears. “I would never have wanted to do this with anyone else,” she says softly. “I never would have been //me// with anyone else.” She doesn’t fight as he curls around and twines himself with her, anchoring his arms beneath her chest with the thread of her fingers through his, only encouraging him closer as she leans into him with a low, purring sound. “We did this together. You keep me safe and sane and happy. I’m happy. Always. With you.” She closes her eyes, sighing out another of those soft sounds before, “So… While we’re in control, not afraid and not worried… if we find ourselves with another child, I’d welcome them.”
M’tan tightens his arms about Jet his lips moving to press against her neck. “We’ll fill this Hold with our little minions then. We’re building a new start, a legacy. It’s just as well Safiye and Khyrisan have other siblings.” He rests with her there against him, his hand moving to rest against the flat of her abdomen. He stirs and moves away from her, rising to stand and grinning down at her. “Let’s go fill the bath and get clean.” He offers her his hand, waiting to help her up. “I’ll carry you if you like…,” he teases, eyes glinting. “You’ll have to forgive me if the idea of a baby might lead me to… use the bath for other things.” However he gets Jet into the tub is a blur of action, M’tan’s focus on being with her. They’ll end up having to rerun the bath a few times… the water gone cold as they get hot. Later, after the kids have been checked on, with clean sheets and blankets tucked in around them, M’tan’s arms hold firm against Jet’s body as he cuddles her against his chest. “Love you,” he murmurs before sleep claims him.