The Kingdom of Darga nestled on the outskirts of a raging sea; sapphire waves and emerald debris clashed up against the rock, tainting the cliffside in a blue-green haze. It was a land of sharp salt and cut-throat mountains, known for their ferocious wyverns and dragons. Where the raging waves sloshed and smashed against the tough stone, they were protected. By the storm, by the jagged reefs, and by their protectors. Their clawed, winged beasts that breathed fire and ice. The wyverns of fire with two hind legs and elongated arms into claws and wings and a protruding neck. Dragons of cold, with four limbs, tipped with great talons and a snake-like neck with massive, cumbrous wings sprouting from their shoulders. Wyverns were cunning, sly and quick whilst dragons were bulky, massive and impulsive.
Both protected the Kingdom in harmony.
Whilst their numbers were plenty, Darga was sliced into factions and each wyvern and dragon claimed a portion of the vast, loamy lands for themselves.
Claiming the most fertile lands was the strongest and most fearsome dragon of them all; he possessed six muscle-lined limbs and two massive wings that flared at every thought. His scales were an onyx black, slick and oil; a pyre ready to burst. He demanded payment at every turn of the moon and shook the forests and villages with earthquakes when unappeased. The weakest of them all took control of a calm farm, where sheep and cows were herded up the mountain on the daily. The protector was no larger than a mushroom fae, with translucent wings and large, verdant eyes. He conjured fire and warmth when the herd grew cold.
Rumor had it that each winged beast had mastered the Arcane in one form or the other and it was an unsung tradition to never encroach upon another's territory. The eldest was known for his brute strength but the very smallest of them could incapacitate the best of them with a single, well-timed sneeze.
As it goes, there was very little infighting, for both dragon and wyvern were not as greedy as the legends suggested.
Deep within the cavernous mountains ruled a dragon born of fire with a mane wreathed in gold and red. She hoarded gold, diamonds, and weapons. Anything shiny and anything valuable - or invaluable, so long as it sang a reflection, she kept it. Her treasures were amassed in a great pile deep in her lair. It made up her bedding and the moon sang when she slumbered, a tiny slice on the ceiling of her abode where the silver light would cut in. She slept only when the sparkling grey danced, nestling her great, dual-horned head snout deep into the metallic scent of her hoard. But she knew her lair was the most accessible, the most common. She knew her siblings took great measures to conceal their treasures from the wandering eyes of men and beast, but the golden dragon, whose scales shone like beaten starlight, welcomed the challenge.
Mortals, fairies, ogres, elves and all manner of mystical creatures were welcome to try their hand at her hoard.
-- and she'd beat them back every single time.
With claw and tooth and scales too hard to penetrate, she would beat them back. Perhaps in the form of a pitiful human, standing on wobbling fleshy legs and arms, she would suffocate them with hands wreathed in flame. She could push them away with ease, step after step into a wall or a wayward spike and a blood-splattered grin would form upon her lips. She might flick them away with a single golden talon, larger than a man was tall and rumble in her discontent, steam billowing from her great nostrils. She was tired, she was bored, she was depressed. She sank into her golden vault, consumed by the sheen and opulence until once upon a time, she met her match.
A knight stood before her, battered and bruised and without fear. His voice was muffled beneath his helm and the hulking dragon leaned in, gold pouring off her scales like a glittering waterfall. Her breath smelled of sulfur and blood and decade-old corpses as she huffed a cloud into the knight's face.
"Yessss...?"The snout contorted into a sneer, a look of derision and interest as she snaked forward, her neck a great cord of gilded scales. She bared her fangs, terrifying and humorous, lidless eyes dilating like fading comets."For your valor, you have my interest. For now."She loomed ever closer, a field of sunlight shadowing her mountainous hoard."You are... an interesting one."
Amidst the endless sea of broken spears and blood stood but a single warrior, wounded but not yet defeated. The corpses of her fallen brothers broken beneath her feet, the single Knightess deigned not to meet a similar fate this day. Yet she had found herself woefully outmatched in the face of the four legged beast that loomed above her, for she was but a gnat in the face of a God. Lady Estelle knew well that the dragon could defeat her with only a single strike, crush her into nothingness... but still the warrior relented, staring into death with earnest and determined eyes. No, she would find a way to win, to avenge those that had lost their lives to the slumbering beast.
"I'm glad that I've appealed to your interest." The champion reached upwards, her hands finding the sides of her battered helmet. Unlocking the chinstrap, she slid the steel basinet above her head, golden strands of hair cascading down towards her shoulders. Underneath the helmet was no man, but a woman, beautiful as she was brave, with an azure glare that would cut deeper into the dragon than any sword before her. She was Lady Estelle de Maria, Knightess of the Golden Rose and a champion of the people. "It would be such a shame for you to die at the hands of anything less." She goaded the creature, eyes narrowing defiantly.
The Knightess dipped at the waist, reaching down to pluck a spear from the ground. Though the knights had managed to stab the creature many times with such a weapon, no blade seemed able to penetrate the dragon's armor, to make the creature bleed. Yet even in the face of staggering odds, Lady Estelle would not stand idly by as she died. If she could not kill her enemy, she would at least be sure that her end would be valiant indeed.
"Are you ready to die, dragon?" She growled underneath her breath, tightening her grip upon the spear before charging forward. Gliding across the bloodied tile beneath her feet, she rushed the beast, making it seem that she was aiming for the creature's face before changing her target at the last moment. During the dragon's fight with her fellow knights, she had noticed a single weak point in the dragon's scales, a tiny spot underneath the neck that did not glisten in the torchlight. Dancing skillfully past the dragon's face, Estelle managed to lunge her spear to the side, sticking the blade deep into the neck of the colossal beast.
Upon seeing a small trail of blood seep down the spear, Lady Estelle finally smiled, "So, you aren't unkillable after all." She taunted, pulling backwards upon the spear. While she had managed to draw blood, it would take much more than a simple jab to end such a powerful beast. But as Estelle attempted to pull the spear from the dragon's neck, she noticed that the weapon was stuck, unable to be pulled out by the mere strength of a human. "Damnit!"She cursed aloud, releasing the shaft of the spear before taking the full brunt of the dragon's ire. Weaponless, the Knightess recoiled backwards, tripping over a corpse before tumbling to the ground.
She gritted her teeth as her sapphire eyes searched for a new sword to wield, her mind screaming as the shadow of the beast loomed behind her.
The dragon reared up, her jaw contorted in a facsimile of a sneer. With fangs dripping molten gold, she did not fear this man - no, woman, as the broken helm clanged to the ground. Her tail slammed from side to side, thick at the base and decorated with haphazard spikes big and small. She could have impaled the woman ten, twenty, fifty times over and not bat a single lid. But the woman was a curious creature, armored in steel and blood and crystal clear eyes. That was not the look of a defeated human, but one that would tear the skies down with her.
But dragons ruled the skies and all the dragon did was listen to the knight, her amusement shadowed by the gold of her irises. "Put that toy down," she rumbled, at last, derisive, pompous and bored. As if the woman had simply brandished a wooden training sword in front of her snout. She lifted a great paw, lazily unsheathing gilded claws like sabers. Like all humans, the woman was nothing more than a fly. She swiped down as the knight charged, her talons slicing through gold and soil alike and the dragon thought she had the knight - but a soft breeze swept across her scales and she turned a split second too slow.
Blood! A terrible roar billowed forth from her maw, opening to a cavernous void that filled the opulent cave with thick smoke. The bitter stink of a gutted flame seeped into the air. Unkillable? Preposterous! Her slitted pupils fixed upon the spear, almost a toothpick, embedded deep into her flesh. A splinter in the lion's paw, with a mouse dangling on the shaft. Dark blood oozed from the wound, rushing around the spear point and dripping in great drops onto the ground.
One forelimb rose, intent on grasping the woman to crush her against her massive bulk but the human was gone. She would not be made a fool of a second time and the very tip of a claw snagged on the woman's armor as she darted away, slicing through the steel and eating at the chainmail beneath. A vicious rumble threatened to bring the mountain down as the dragon gouged the spear out of her flesh, leaving it to clatter loudly. Too loudly, as the air stilled and the dragon was silent and all the more terrible for it.
Then, the dragon's image flickered and wavered.
Then it exploded.
Into a nebula of golden smoke and fire. Golden scales sloughed off into pools of molten puddles and from the center emerged a speck, then a firm body of flesh, one arm then the other. Tall, slender and strong with wiry muscles, the dragon had turned into naked skin, human flesh, and bone. Softer scales scattered like stars across her cheeks but her eyes remained the same: burning, blinding and slit irises that smiled more than the cupid bow of her lips. Long crimson hair flowed down her back, crowned by two dark horns that curved upward, following the shape of her elfin ears. Fire threaded her skin, pulsing at the scar near her clavicle, and when she opened her mouth, her teeth were sharp and fierce.
"Nivae." She said simply before she struck and her speed was blinding. Before the woman could scrabble for a new weapon, she had the woman prone. One knee pressed roughly against the small of the woman's back, not enough to crush but just enough to show that she could. One hand curled tight around the woman's nape, holding her like a mother would a kitten and the other caught hold of the woman's right arm, bending it back at a cruel enough angle to hurt. A hiss of steam unfurled from her mouth and she leaned in, applying more and more weight.
"Is it not customary," she purred, "to offer one's name in return?"
"Never drop your blade, my little mockingbird. So long as you hold onto it, you will never fall in battle."
She remembered her first lesson vividly in her mind, from when she was but a fledgling squire with grandeur dreams of heroism. Indeed, so long as a weapon was in her hands, she had not yet lost the fight. Sapphire eyes searched for the nearest weapon, finding the image of a longsword in front of her. Desperately, her armored gauntlets inched forward, straining to reach the hilt that lay just out of her reach. Without a weapon, the Knightess felt defeated, humiliated... alone. Tears cascaded down the silhouette of her cheeks as she gritted her teeth, she would not die like this.
But the Knightess' dreams were crushed by a sudden pain in her back, a pressure that pinned her face first against the ground. She found the presence of a hand around her neck, her arm intercepted before it could finally take the sword into her hand. A sharp growl escaped the Lady's lips as she felt a searing pain in her arm, beckoning for her to cease combat and surrender to the dragon. With the side of her face pressed into the ground, she could only faintly see the woman that stood behind her, a surprisingly human entity that pinned her to the ground. She had not known that dragons were capable of taking the form of humans.
"Release me!" The Knightess demanded, as if any of her commands held any weight to the dragon. It was then that she heard the dragon speak a name... Nivae, a name that she would soon come to despise greatly. Her mind searched for a witty retort, but when she felt her opponent pressing more weight into her, Lady Estelle couldn't hold back her tongue. "AAAAgh! STOP!" Her screams echoed throughout the desolate castle, reverberating off of the ancient halls. More tears welled in her eyes as her mind thought about giving in, perhaps if she begged for her life... the dragon would show her some sort of mercy. But Estelle knew well that appealing to a dragon's good graces was rarely, if ever, successful.
Instead of answering Nivae, she instead fell silent, her eyes shut as she tried her best to mute the pain that surged down the length of her arm. "Just... kill me already." She whimpered, "If you don't... I promise you that you'll learn to regret it." She seethed, despite the predicament that she found herself in. Perhaps there was still a way to escape... a way to wriggle free from the dragon's formidable grip. But first she would need to make the dragon lower her guard.
"Estelle." She said finally, eyes opening to glare at the dragon once more. "My name is Estelle."
"Kill you?" Nivae mused on the thought, hefting it like a ball in her mind. Testing the honesty of it, examining it against the resounding scream still echoing deep into the depths of her home. The weight of her pressed down precariously as she forgot her strength but those words - strange, it almost sounded like a threat - helped her to remember and she glanced at the woman. Their eyes met, one angry and the other amused, not so much admiring as she was inspecting a particularly strange specimen. Like a stargazer mapping the constellations from thought to paper; and so was this woman her enigma to be ruined.
"Estelle." Nivae painted her tongue with the name, running it along her teeth as if it were a delicacy. It had been too long since she'd held a human beneath her like this, matching skin for skin and the heat of them sending delicious thrills down the arch of her spine. "Estelle." She pondered again, lost in thought for once and greedy for more. It was not an uncommon myth that dragons were capable of many things, including shifting one's shape. It was an equally uncommon myth that some dragons preferred to lay with humans and some even kept them as pets. Pets! Nivae snorted softly to herself and shook her head. Fools, the lot of them. Still...
"Estelle."
Her voice was softer now, lined with razor blades. With one hand kept firm on the twisted arm, she loosened her hold on the woman's neck and leaned forward to brush those honeyed locks away from a tear-streaked face stained with dirt. "You are a very brave woman, bargaining with someone who could snap your arm with a twitch," and to drive her point home, she jerked the limb upward, pulling the muscles and stretching taut the tendons at the shoulder. Then she released it, let it drop to the ground and stood up. Around them, the scattered corpses and weapons glittered back at her.
Nivae started with the swords and spears, flicking her wrist here and sending a snap of flame there. They melted in a matter of seconds, bent steel into steel puddles and the bodies seemed to all but evaporate, incinerated into nothingness. No smell lingered, not a single scrap of flesh left, only shadows etched into the ground like crude cave paintings. She rolled her shoulders back and cracked her neck left and right. Scales of gold, red and orange were laid across her tanned skin like autumn leaves and each one glowed with radioactive intensity until she was done cleaning up her cave. She let the smoke linger from the tips of her fingers and turned her attention back to her guest.
"Surely you did not come here just to kill me." She smiled. "I've not left my hoard in years, haven't tasted human flesh in double that." Nivae spread her arms out and she looked half an angel if not for the terrible fire in her eyes. "So, that begs the question: did you come here for something else? Gold? Glory?" She crouched and traced the woman's neck, slicing bits of armor away from her body as if it were nothing more than paper. Nivae did not seem concerned about the chance for retaliation. In fact, some part of her hoped that the Knight would not disappoint.
"You think I'm bargaining? I'm merely stating the facts-" Her words were abruptly interrupted by a searing pain emanating from her arm, the dragon jerking her arm upwards as the Knightess unleashed a howling cry. The pain lasted for a fleeting moment as she found her arm soon released from her enemy's grasp. In that immediate moment, the Knight turned her attention towards the weapons strewn across the battleground once more. If she could just claim a sword, then perhaps she would be able to show the dragon the price of toying with her prey. Yet before her eyes could even locate the sword that she had attempted to claim, she noticed the dragon begin to move once again.
With the flick of her wrist, the world was on fire. All of Estelle's comrades and their weapons were vaporized within only a few moments, their existence but a faint memory lost within the dragon's domain.. To evaporate steel and flesh so easily, it only reminded Estelle how vulnerable she truly was, how she... a mere human, would never stand a chance against the dragon. Tears fell down the silhouette of the Knight's face as the dragon knelt beside her, sharpened talons slicing away parts of her metal breastplate. How foolish they had been to think that their armor would have stood any chance against such a beast. But what frustrated Estelle more than the act was the taunting that came with it, the bittersweet voice molesting her resolve with every, softly spoken word.
"I came here to kill you." The Knightess replied between frustrated sobs. Suddenly, Estelle reached towards the hand that hovered just over her neck, past the fingers that could so easily tear her life away with a single movement. She grabbed Nivae by the flank of her upper arm, summoning all of her strength as she pushed the both of them upwards before the two found themselves falling towards the ground once again. Before the Dragon could realize what the foolish Knight was doing, she would find herself on her back, with a frightened and desperate gaze looking down upon her from above. Estelle had somehow found herself straddled atop the Dragon, her hands reaching down towards her metal boots.
"So die already!"Estelle drew out a hidden dagger from her boot, clasping it between both hands before she brought the blade down upon the Dragon's chest. The steel struck harmlessly against Nivae's body, the tip of the castle-forged dagger shattering as if the Knight had struck stone. The Knightess sobbed more hysterically, her chest rising and falling underneath panicked breaths as tears cascaded down the flanks of her cheeks. "Die! Die! Why won't you die?!" She bellowed, each of her desperate words followed by another hammering strike against Nivae's chest. Every violent impact broke off more of the dagger's blade, her last hope chipping away with each strike until the entire length of the blade had broken entirely.
Estelle fell silent as she looked down at the Dragon beneath her, the creature that would soon steal away her life. The dagger in her hands had been reduced to nothing more than scrap metal now. Perhaps Nivae would at least give her the mercy of a clean and painless death. But one thing was for certain.
She was going to die alone, in this cold and decrepit place.
Before she could ask why, before the Dragon could even move - impossible! - the air sliced against her naked skin and she felt herself falling, almost in slow motion, not quite comprehending the weak grip around her bicep until the back of her head slammed against the cavern ground. The impact barely jarred her; the fact that the woman had moved a mountain was far more shocking. Wide-eyed and innocent, her hair cast askew like a blanket of fine red silk under them; Nivae looked like the picture-perfect maiden-in-distress. But she was no maiden. Crimson flames licked the edges of her eyes, a slight crease beginning to form in the middle of her brow.
Mountains did not like to be moved.
She felt the metal thud against her chest, matching the pace of her slow-beating heart with every royal clang. Steel sheared against her bronzed skin, scraping against the splattering of scales as the knight stabbed at her wildly. She felt the hot splash of tears more than that silver-tipped point. Nivae couldn't fault the human for this mistake - it was a rarely known fact that dragons and wyverns were nigh impenetrable regardless of the form they took. Perhaps if Estelle had aimed for the wiry scar at her neck, she might have had better luck. But as it was, this was very much akin to a toothless child gnawing at a rock.
"Are you finished?"
When all that remained was the hilt and deafening silence, the Dragon took her time. Talons crawled up the woman's beaten armor, brushing with the faintest bit of tenderness where skin peaked beneath the steel. This woman was brave. Stupid, yes, and naive, but brave. It was not a trait found in most men or women and it was not a trait a dragon revered. The red-gold of her eyes pulsed and still, she did not move. Her hands continued on their experimental journey, applying just enough pressure to peel away Estelle's armor, just enough to bring forth a pinprick of blood at the very point, but never more.
She knew the human hated her for some reason or another, and that she would very much like to kill this foul creature. But there was no pleasure in that. A snap of her fingers and the knight would be but another shadow on the floor. Nivae cast her thoughts back to those continuous, endless days of slumbering and waking to gorge herself on shredded gold and jewels only to close her eyes once more, bloated and unsatisfied. Estelle was brave and stupid, but she was not boring. That was a prize worth keeping, but she loved to make her prisoners squirm.
"It has been quite some time since I've been on my back," the Dragoness observed lightly as she ran her fingers up and melted the steel of the woman's arm. She spoke as if the woman was simply a visitor, here today and gone tomorrow, her words ever laced with that sweet poison. Gently, gently. "Why, I don't believe any human has achieved what you have..."
Then, her lips quirked at the sides, slowly budding then blossoming into a grin. Heat began to radiate from her scales, boiling her blood until her veins smoldered red. She was an enigma, never following human standards and keeping morals of her own. Her smile betrayed nothing; rage, excitement, disgust, delight, and admiration rolled into one great meteor hurtling from the stars. She radiated malice and death through the heat of her skin, the burning flame in her eyes--
-- suddenly, her claws were cupping the woman's cheeks, drawing her down until she was but a hairs-breadth away. Her tongue flickered out to taste the salt on Estelle's cheeks. Her strength, her power, it all radiated against the shell of Estelle's ear. "I think you deserve a reward." Nivae purred, poker-hot, and without waiting for a response, she crushed their lips together in a bruising kiss, almost scorching in its passion and dominance and the Dragon had a firm, possessive grip of the woman's cheeks. She drew blood; copper and iron-tinged. She bit her way into the knight's mouth, her tongue a forked invader and her claws lunged into the fragile flesh of her captive. All the while, she lay obedient beneath the other's weight, offering some sort of faux control. They both knew better.
Estelle remained helplessly still as the dragon's talons reached upwards, slowly moving across her body as she effortlessly peeled away the steel of her breastplate. She could feel and hear her heart pulsate with every minor movement, each time those razor sharp claws sunk into her armor threatening to be the last. Yet, she dare not move, remaining atop the dragon as if it afforded her some sort of advantage... some sort of foolish safety from death. The dragon peeled her armor away as if it was nothing more than a wrapped gift, the Knightess gasping in pain every time the claws pricked her and drew blood. She trembled and squirmed atop the dragon, but still she did not move.
"Don't taunt me. If you plan on killing me, you should do it while you still can." She retorted, though her confident voice was beginning to waver between her sobbing throes. It was then that the dragon did the unexpected, reaching upward to aggressively claim Estelle's cheeks between the steel-piercing talons. There was a gasp of fear as she felt her heart pause, but what the Knightess had thought was the end would prove to be just the beginning. It wasn't long until the dragon had full control of her face, whispering into her ear the promise of a reward. A reward? Estelle's trembling body froze momentarily, a look of confusion stretched upon he frightened face as the dragon forcefully pressed their lips together in a passionate and aggressive kiss.
The Knight released a surprised moan into the Dragon's mouth, her lips determined to remain shut and block out Nivae's tongue from unwanted intrusion. Yet her defiance was met with a painful nip upon her lower lip, forcing her mouth open and allowing the dragon's forked tongue to tentatively reach inside. A string of unintelligible sounds escaped Estelle's throat as she tried to vocalize a response, but she found her tongue pinned, helplessly forced to submit to the dragon beneath her. She may have been on top, but Nivae had her between her fingertips.
The kiss lasted for what felt like an eternity, the invasive tongue exploring... dancing... dominating. Estelle could a strange heat in her chest and cheeks, an indescribable wave of emotions crashing down upon the Knight. She was blushing now, her sapphire eyes gazing down upon the dragon with bewilderment. Why was she doing this? Was this some sort of humiliation before the dragon would snuff out her life?
Almost as soon as the dragon's tongue would retreat backwards, Estelle would open her palm, striking Nivae across the face as hard as she could. "What are you doing?!" She shouted, her voice echoing off of the cavernous walls of the dragon's domain. Her once pale cheeks burned every different shade of red and back, the Knight completely confused by the dragon's actions. The Knightess had been raised in a convent, such intimate concepts having been completely lost upon her. Before the dragon could respond, the Knight struck her again, her hand trembling as it did so. "Stop this. If you intend to embarrass me like this, then just kill me already."
If dragons could purr, the deep reverberations of her vocal cords might pass for one as she mapped the woman's mouth; over teeth and soft tongue. Her eyes were half-lidded, the sides of her lips curling in faint victory, never breaking contact with those ocean blues. She could hear the words drowning in the woman's throat, unable to retort or move. Her nails left welts, just shy of breaking the delicate skin on Estelle's cheeks and in truth, Nivae could have stayed there for hours. But she was not as sadistic as some of her brethren and when she finally pulled away to allow the woman some air, she let herself rest lazily on the ground, savoring the taste left on her blood-red lips.
Nivae saw the strike and let it happen, the sound of flesh on flesh palpable. There was strength in it, she mused. Her eyes trained up the ragged form of the knight, her armor in tatters. What was she doing? A smile now as her hands come to rest upon the woman's thighs, intent on locking her in place if she tried to move. It was a strange question. It was obvious to her and so it should have been to the human - especially because she was human. Cruel little creatures that offered their own kin to appease the terrible gods, scrabbling after trickles of gold for bounties of flesh.
Another strike. She would allow that too, though she felt nothing but warmth where the woman's hand had touched. Before Estelle could slap her again, she wrapped her fingers around the knight's wrist and brought it to her cheek. Whether it be fist or open palm, she nuzzled against it. Silence swelled in the space between them. The display was strangely disconnected from the bruising kiss Nivae had given her moment's earlier; disconnected from the blurs of black on the ground, from the shreds of armor scattered like treasures around them.
Finally: "I was simply giving you your reward." Nivae said, almost innocent in the face of that insult. "Why, if I knew you were a blushing maiden, I would have given you something else." It was hard to tell when a dragon was lying and her eyes betrayed nothing. They remained two burning points in a mist of gold. She could let Estelle go, she could kill her, she could, could, could. But she would not. Instead, she lifted her hand up the woman's thighs and to her cheek, cupping it. A mirror display. Her fingers were soft and gentle, naked in their gentle display. She tucked some of Estelle's hair behind her ear, running her claws over the shell down to the curve of her jaw to her neck and shoulders.
"One must wonder," Nivae murmured, hooded eyes taking in that porcelain skin. It was a stark contrast to the light copper of her own body and her hand curled at the base of the woman's throat like a necklace. "Oh, but why wonder when I can simply ask." She sat up slowly, effortlessly, as bits of her scales scraped against one another. She kept the woman's wrist firmly in her grip and pressed against her own cheek as she pressed her naked body up against what remained of Estelle's armor.
"Would you rather die than partake in the sins of the flesh with a dragon?"
Nivae moved closer, close enough for the knight to catch the glimpses of starlight in her eyes. Hair decorated her shoulders like a silky crimson shawl and the rest flowed down her spine like a ruby waterfall. Close enough that their noses touched. There was nothing now but the cave, the yin, and the yang. She smirked and her gaze darkened as she pursed her lips. "Or are you simply ashamed of your own ignorance? Or are you waiting for a golden-haired knight in shining armor to sweep you off your feet?" Nivae chuckled, the sound devoid of compassion and sympathy.
Without warning, Nivae shoved the knight onto her back and she stood, smiling.
The Knightess swallowed heavily as her wrist was intercepted by the dragoness, the redness in her cheeks flaring an even stronger shade of crimson as Nivae nuzzled the side of her cheek against the palm of Estelle's hand. Just what was the dragon attempting to accomplish? If her end game was humiliation, then she had more than achieved her goal. Fortunately, Estelle didn't have to wait long for her answer, the dragon's fingers making her intentions quite clear. The beat of Estelle's heart intertwined with the motion of Nivae's fingers, trailing and exploring down her jaw and neck. Her sense of danger pleaded for her to pull away, to retreat away from the dragon. But there was an indescribable, lingering feeling that prevented her from doing so. While Estelle may have convinced herself it was fear, it was indeed something far, far worse.
Before Estelle could muster a response, the dragon was upon her. Naked flesh pressed up against the tattered remains of her steel breastplate as Nivae unleashed her ultimate proposition: to sin or to die. While the answer should have been obvious, Estelle found herself unable to find the words, Nivae's hand curling around the Knightess' throat. She stood so close to death, yet perhaps there was still a way out, a way for her life to be spared. She closed her eyes, thinking about how easily Nivae could snap her throat, reduce her into the nothingness that her comrades had been condemned to.
Then, more questions struck Estelle's ears, this time the dragon prodding at what honor that remained. "No... I..." She could barely finish her sentence before she found the world spinning, the Knightess slipping backwards onto the cold ground beneath her feet.
"Strip yourself."
The order was unexpected, the blonde knight instinctively parting her lips to vocalize an adamant refusal. Yet as she prepared to speak, her mind wandered into the possibilities of entertaining the dragon. Perhaps she would live... and she would be lying if she said that that she didn't find Nivae quite enchanting to begin with. "If I entertain you, will you let me live?" Estelle spoke softly, sapphire eyes gazing upwards towards the dragon with interest. Her mind was made up, she would abandon her vows if it meant having another chance at life.
Closing her eyes, Estelle began to do as she was told, her fingers finding the clasps to her armor. With a few movements, she liberated her voluptuous chest from its broken, steel carapace, discarding the armor upon the ground beside her. She then moved to her gauntlets, then the armor that lay upon her thighs and legs. After the armor came the layers underneath. It wasn't long until Estelle was fully nude, her flesh sinfully bared before the dragon. The brightened streak of red grew with greater intensity upon Estelle's face, the maiden knowing that she indeed may have made the wrong choice.
But she wanted to live.
"I will let you be my golden haired knight." She muttered softly, biting nervously at her lower lip as she remained upon her knees before the dragon. "So..." she crawled towards the dragon, pressing her body up against Nivae's legs as she began to curl her arms around her. "What would you ask of your new treasure?"
Nivae watched with amusement painted upon her visage, bold strokes of cockiness and cunning as she watched the knight shed her armor. That strange human skin emerged and streaked with red. She was enraptured by the process, the woman dutiful yet defiant in her act. But the woman drank in the sight regardless. The wave of smooth honey flowing down her back, the glint of freshly cut sapphires and long, supple legs paired with a body that spoke of victories hard-earned. It has been a while since a woman of such caliber has graced her with such presence: normally, it was the men with their boring, chiseled bodies and Adonis-like lips with the conversational skills of an ogre. She could count on too many hands the number of times she has had to burn such creatures to a crisp or send them away with a curse or two. Always men and very few, if ever, women.
Nivae was curious. She was a dragon who has lived many lifetimes and many encounters. A sweaty romp here, a passionate touch there. Her preferences were all over the place and one could never really tell what a dragon wanted, save for what was difficult to acquire. A woman who has offered the chance to be a golden-haired knight... oh, but she could not help but hide a smirk behind a palm.
"Treasure?" Nivae snorted beneath the amusement, hot smoke curling from between her lips and past her ears in wisps. There was a hint of derision in her golden gaze, flickering like a fire left burning for too long. "Don't flatter yourself." With the knight fitted so snugly in her palm, there was little reason to pander. But there, in those ocean depths, buried like sunken treasures, was that soothing desire. Born not out of the flesh beneath her hands, but out of a lust for life; to survive another day, another season, another royal banquet. Those wet blues pining and pinning her down into inaction, Nivae could only feel some sort of strange, draconic sympathy. When was the last time she's had a human truly desperate for life over carnal desire in her lair? A few hundred, maybe thousands of centuries?
The dragon stirred. She watched with her burning gaze as the woman nuzzled against her legs, idolizing her with defiance. Nivae smiled then, a strangely wicked smile as she buried her claws through those blonde locks, almost massaging her scalp as a lover might be wont to do. A deep rumble emanated from her chest, a purr deeper than the caverns she occupied as she basked in the submission. While she desired prey that squirmed and struggled, there was nothing wrong with indulging in the willing -- faux or otherwise. She kneaded her claws into the knight's hair, running her nails down to scrape at her neck.
"Oh, but you are such a darling." Nivae purred, unable to hide the carnivorous rumble coiling like a spring ready to fire.
She smiled to herself and her hand shoved Estelle's head up and forward as she parted her thighs. Slick with heat and wetness, her thighs were scaled and coated in arousal. Her core was molten hot and soft, dripping. It smelled of pining arousal, sulfur and a sweetness reminiscent of tangy iron. Whether it was from the human's desire to live or her decision to surrender, the dragon showed her approval clearly. Her crimson hair brushed against her hip as she thrust herself into the moment, her claws digging into the knight's scalp to push Estelle forward. Virginal as she was, the dragon was curious.
There was a single second, a mere mote of silence as she breathed in deeply and she growled, guttural and vicious.
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