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@fae-prince-carnelian
Prince Carnelian
The antlers are part of the circlet, I swear.
Troublesome prince, hedonistic nightmare. Here to have a good time and drag everyone else along with them. Invite them to a party and see what happens.
---
they/he | 33 | 18+ blog, minors DNI.
Masc-leaning enby. Will try anything twice.
Prince has changeable genitalia - a perk of the fae.
Current timezone: GMT +1
OOC blog: @knightly-observer
Earthy scents of oak and dark loam hang thick in the midnight air. The Dusk Watch is a shift that only gets more dull as it goes on—people shuttering their windows before bed mirroring the birds roosting for the night—until all the world is hushed and it's the sentry's duty to resist the gentle lull toward complacency. There are good reasons they're posted in twos. Sir Dead-Weight over there must be half a dozen of them.
For the third time this evening, the absolute lout of a man Dane was paired with leans toward her, brandishing a pair of dice. "All I'm sayin's we could pass the time with a game o' hazard. 's no' my fault if yer afraid to lo–"
She holds up a hand to cut him off, scanning the nearby woods. "Shut the fuck up, will you?" She's sure she heard something; a rustling in the brambles, just out of view. "Probably just a wild animal, but a fight with a damn porcupine beats standing here with you. Mind your post."
She doesn't wait for a reply before stalking forward on light feet, one hand drifting toward the falchion at her hip as she breeches the treeline.
@fae-prince-carnelian
Carnelian is up to mischief. Carnelian is, admittedly, always up to mischief.
Today though, it's harmless. They'd taken a wander through the woods, slightly grumpy, after their little encounter with Sierra, Princess Margaret and the wizard; it didn't feel as everyone had been entirely enchanted by them and that was, obviously, awful. But they were back out in the woods now - their realm - and so that was all fine.
Currently they were up a tree, dangling upside down with knees hooked over the branch above them as they picked idly at a pinecone. They paused, hearing something crashing through undergrowth nearby - big and on the civilisation side. Probably a person. They dropped down and went to investigate, curious.
Oh! Person.
They slink through the brambles, curious; the plants part for them to allow them through.
Dane moves more quietly than most would through the groundcover, but with brambles this thick it's still louder than she'd like.
She pauses, scanning for signs of anything amiss. If there was someone out here, they'd better have a good reason.
Not the best route for a theif to take by far. Too difficult to come back the way they came with arms full of spoils. Could always be a lookout for another sort of crime, though.
There's movement up ahead in the underbrush. No, scratch that, the brush itself is moving. She squints through the murky darkness. There is someone there.
"Speak your name," she rasps, hand ready at the grip of her blade. "I don't like surprises."
In the darkness, Carn grins, muscles bunching slightly. They want to frighten this little - well, not so little - human. They want to see what she does when surprised. They pace smoothly to the side, circling her as they consider.
But she already looks jumpy, and she's holding a sword.
"Oh, I don't share my name with just anyone," they say regardless. "But since you ask... may I have yours?"
And she does startle, just slightly; everything going tense for just a breath before she turns evenly in the direction of the voice.
Hard to make out any detail in the dark. She lifts her visor to give herself a better view of the stranger.
Nothing about them seems to speak of criminal intent - they're not dressed to conceal. Her shoulders drop, relaxing a bit as her eyes flick over his form in search of a weapon and finding none. Her hand doesn't stray from the grip of her own weapon, however. There is something peculiar about this one, she just can't quite place it.
She swallows, and her voice comes out clear; convincingly steady. "It's Vuurgast." Her brow furrows. She's the one who's asking the questions here. "You make a habit of gadding about in the woods in the middle of the night?" She gestures with her right hand, indicating the falchion held loosely in its grasp. "I could have swung at you instead of asking questions."
Carnelian grins. Such a sweetly trusting little human. "Vuurgast." They savour the name for a second, the taste of it on their tongue - a little sweet, a little bitter, something almost earthy about it. Delicious. Theirs, now, not that she knows.
They leave it be. They hold the name within them, now - but it doesn't mean they have to do anything with it, yet.
"I do, actually. I quite like it out here," they answer, motioning around the woods at large. "You seem a little nervous, considering you're also gadding about in the woods in the middle of the night. You seem a bit less comfortable with the idea than I am. And you could have swung at me, but there's quite a lot of plants in the way, right? I bet those aren't good for a blade. The woods is a bad place for a swordfight."
Dane narrows her eyes a touch, unsure if she likes the tone in which her name was spoken back to her.
She tilts her head just slightly, listening not a bit skeptically to their sorely lacking explanation as to their purpose in the forest.
Gesturing to herself—armored and armed, having clearly come from the direction of the Gates—she deadpans, "It is. Kind of my job to be on alert." She shifts her weight, glancing over their shoulder at the trees behind. "Used to spend a lot of time out after dark actually, just never could get used to the quiet of the woods at night. In town if it's this quiet, someone's up to something." Her voice deepens to an almost smoky timbre as she completes the thought. It seems she's still not entirely convinced someone isn't.
Choosing to put that aside for the moment, she pinches the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, sighing, "Woods wouldn't be my first pick for a place to fight, no, but I have a feeling if you were itching to start one," she quirks an eyebrow, "You'd have done it by now, seeing as you've got me here. Alone."
"Maybe it's not a fight I'm itching for," Carnelian says, with a teasing grin. But she's caught their attention now, and they tilt their head, curious. "So towns are noisy, then? It's only suspicious when it's quiet? I mean, that does sort of go for the woods, too. If you can't hear nature something's wrong. What were you doing out after dark, when you used to spend a lot of time out here?"
They wander closer, peering at her with interest - her face is visible with the visor up, and they have no trouble seeing in the dark.
"So you're a guard then? Pretty dedicated to be wandering out here rather than just hiding behind your walls until the trouble comes to you."
Oh? A bold one, they are. Alright. If it's banter, she can play that game.
A smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth. "Getting up to no good, usually."
Then her brow knits together. She's not so distracted by that train of thought as to miss the other implication in their words. "Have you... never been in a town?"
Something softens in her at the almost childlike curiosity in their eyes as they peer at her. She signs internally, this is probably stupid... She reaches up with both hands and removes her helm.
"Mm. Not so much dedicated as annoyed with the dolt they've lumped me in with tonight." She grins roguishly. "Thought you might be a porcupine. Seemed the preferable sort of prick to deal with."
Carn lets out a delighted little bark of laughter. "Maybe you should've sent him after the porcupine instead. But I can see the thinking. What if it had been something bigger than a porcupine and scarier than me?" They raise an eyebrow.
They pause at the question. "I mean, I've been in a town before. But never at night, and never really long enough to take note of how the sounds change. It just seemed always really noisy to me. Just -" They wave their hands vaguely. It's hard to explain how civilisation feels for them - being surrounded by iron has a sensation they can feel in their teeth.
Something occurs to them, and they grin impishly. "Hey. Do you wanna mess with your doltish colleague?"
"Scarier than you? Hmm.." her words dripping with mock-contemplation as she looks them up and down, pretending to evaluate the threat-level for comparison's sake. A crooked smirk plays on her lips, her tongue curling briefly around a canine. "Dunno, you're pretty stunning as it is." The double-meaning of the word toward 'frightening' is a stretch at best, but she tries for it anyway. "B'sides that, if I'd have stayed at my post you'd have had him to talk to instead of me." she huffs a quiet chuckle.
Dane absently runs the hand not occupied holding her helm through her hair, nodding as she listens. Guess being outta your element can be overwhelming in either direction.
She raises her eyebrows. Maybe a bit of a scare would set the man right. "...What did you have in mind?"
Carn's delight this time is even more palpable. "Oh, she flirts! You're definitely preferable to the rumoured bozo. Yeah, I definitely got the better option." They admire her as she runs a hand through her hair, amused.
At the question, they tilt their head, considering. "Depends how mean ya want to be. Are we just giving him a little jolt, or seeing if we can make him piss his braies?"
The corners of her eyes crinkle as her grin stretches across her face. "I wanna say I got the best of three options, but that's probably not too flattering considering your competition. No offense to the porcupine."
She actually laughs at the question. A warm sound from somewhere deep in her chest. "Ehhh, as long as he's not hurt on my watch. Not sure I could make a great excuse for that seeing as I'm s'posed to be over there with him."
"Pissing his braies it is!" Carn says brightly. "I can chase him through the woods for you a bit if you like - not too far into them. Herd him like a sheepdog. Maybe it'll make him buck up his ideas a bit."
They look around, thoughtful. "If you tell him you've found something and bring him over I can torment him a little bit. Though I suppose you won't be able to watch and enjoy it if I'm chasing him through the trees, will you?"
Dane snorts a laugh at their enthusiasm, shaking her head. Almost fondly.
"Sure, I could tell him to come over here, but I bet he'd expect me to rescue him from you, even if he didn't wonder why I wasn't being chased myself..." Dane chews her lip as she considers.
Carn can pinpoint the moment the idea comes to her by the look in her eyes. "What if we get close enough to the treeline he can hear me shout for help, but I hide before he gets here? Then you can chase him to your heart's content, and I get to scare him again when he mentions it to me later by pretending I don't know what he's talking about. I didn't call for help at all." A conspiratorial smile spreads across her face. "'n fact, I didn't hear anyone else yell either."
Dane meets their gaze, resisting the urge to instead gaze at them. They're an uncanny sort of pretty.
"Course, I still wouldn't get to watch," she tilts her head just slightly. "So, I guess you'd have to tell me about it some other time"
Carn's grin curls wickedly. Are their teeth just a little too sharp? It's hard to tell, in the dim light. "That sounds perfect," they breathe, staring at her admiringly. "You have a brilliant mind, dearest Ser Vuurgast. Wonderful! Then we have a plan. You'll shout for help, and I'll wait to gently terrorise your hapless coworker. It'll be magnificent!"
They beam at her, pleased. "You'll have to tell me how he reacts when you act like nothing's happened, too. I bet it'll be delicious."
Dane chuckles, allowing herself a moment to bask in the compliment. She's often commended for her strength, or her skill with a blade; it's not nearly so often that she's praised for her mind.
She takes a few steps in the direction of the gates as she scouts for a place to quickly hide in after getting the other knight's attention.
A thick snarl of brambles lies not too far off, earning an appreciative nod. This'll do nicely.
"Deal. But y'know, I do usually like to know what to call someone before I agree to see them again." She gives a crooked grin, "For delicious exchanges or otherwise."
"Oh! I forgot!" They smack their forehead lightly. "Carnelian! You can call me Carnelian. I look forward to further delicious exchanges." They grin at her. "Have fun being bozo-bait."
They slip into their own patch of undergrowth, moving through it suspiciously easily. They'lll choose their moment carefully.
Carnelian. It suits them.
She winks, voice ringing out in the night. "There's definitely something out here! I can take 'em, but be on–" she cuts herself off, putting on what she hopes is a convincing air of alarm. "oh FUCK, get out here!"
She hastens to her hiding spot–if she's crashing through the underbrush she hopes he'll assume it's the sounds of a fight–and nestles quickly among the leaves and vines, sufficiently out of sight.
Quiet. Quiet. Heavy footfalls. He's on his way.
The bozo's path into the woods is as loud and obvious to Carnelian's enhanced senses as if he'd had cowbells tied to every limb. Their grin widens, tongue flickering out to wet their lips, and moves into action.
Sir Bozo crashes into the clearing where they'd been, breathing heavily. "What the fuck? Where's-"
He freezes as a sound rumbles out from the undergrowth - a growl, deep and low, the kind of noise which turns guts to liquid. His panicked gaze flickers over the dark leaves and spots, amongst them, a pair of glowing eyes. He makes a strangled sound, turns to run - and behind him something bursts out of the trees to chase.
The woods are alive with movement, as if an entire pack of monsters is chasing him down - thrashing branches and leaves, the crack of branches and wild movement which suggest huge bodies moving through spaces too small for them. The sounds too come from everywhere, snarling growls chasing the hapless prey onwards, deeper into the dark trees, his fear leaving the stink of itself behind like a beacon to follow.
She peers through the brush, trying her best to watch the commotion, but hearing more than seeing in the darkness.
The snarl seems to vibrate in her chest. What in the hells?
Dane has half a mind to abandon her hiding spot; she has no intention of leaving the man to fend for himself against a large predator, but... the noise seems to be coming from where Carnelian slipped off to. Maybe with all their time in the woods they've learned to mimic animal calls? Could be useful.
Then more. The sounds of leaves rustling and branches snapping in all directions–but something's off.
The back of her neck prickles with unease as much at the wrongness of the sound as her inability to pinpoint it.
There are no footfalls.
Something making that much racket would be big. Heavy. The only actual impact she hears on the ground is paired with the metallic clink clink clink of armor.
All at once it clicks. It's an illusion. Son of a bitch, they have magic.
Carn doesn't even need the stink of Bozo's fear to follow him, but it helps. They herd him skillfully along, carefully positioning the movement of trees and bushes to make sure he doesn't veer off too deep into the woods - just deep enough into the trees that the light is gone.
And then, finally, they herd him out again.
Bozo breaks free of the trees bordering the town again and stumbles with the sudden shock of it, jelly-legged - before booking it back towards the gates with a scream. Back in the treeline, Carn drops out of their shapeshift, breathing heavily and grinning. They can't maintain something that size for very long, but sometimes the effect is worth it. They stretch luxuriously, and then turn to make their way back through the trees towards Dane, whistling cheerfully. It's a good day.
They've moved too far off for Dane to see, but the panicked cry still reaches her ears in the night.
Chuckling, she extracts herself from the brambles and stretches, gauntleted hands pressed to her lower back. She moves to lean against the thick trunk of a nearby tree, awaiting Carnelian's return.
When they find her, she's got her arms crossed, shaking her head as if prepared to scold them, but there's no malice behind her eyes—a grin creeps across her face as they draw nearer. She laughs, "One of these days I'll remember a lack of steel doesn't mean a lack of power."
They grin. "Oh, decidedly not. I'm not sure if he literally pissed himself or not, but it was close. A little dribble at minimum." They smirk. "You'll have to tell me what his face looks like when you tell him you weren't there and heard nothing."
Now that the immediate window for mischief has close, they eye her lazily up and down, mimicking her posture against a tree, arms folded. "So, Ser Vuurgast. What now?"
"Good enough for me!" She snorts a laugh "If he's embarrassed enough he won't mention too many details to anyone else. Including how long I've been away from my post."
She holds up a hand as if swearing an oath, but doesn't adjust her relaxed posture. "You have my word, you'll hear every detail."
Dane doesn't squirm under their gaze as some would, just lets them look, watching their face as she waits for eye contact to return. "Mm. Dunno." She smirks, a crooked sort of thing, eyes half-lidded. "What's a pretty thing like you usually do when they find themselves alone with someone in the woods? When you aren't scaring the piss out of 'em, that is."
"Depends if the other person is also a pretty thing," Carn says, with a grin. They stroll forwards to loop their arms lazily around her neck - no attempt to play coy here. "And then I like getting creative. Though if you don't know what you want to do..." They give an exaggerated shrug, pulling away again.
Dane hums appreciatively at the proximity, eyes flicking just briefly to Carnelian's lips as they speak.
They smell of summer. Bright and warm at once. Almost like wassail.
She rolls her eyes at the jest, but grins, voice dipping once again to a low, smoky timbre. "You didn't ask what I wanted, Carnelian. You asked what's next."
"Well then, shall I try again? What do you want, Ser Vuurgast?" Their tongue flickers out to wet their lips, swaying back towards her once again. This time they press themself against her properly, grinning. "I thought perhaps you might not know that, either."
She chuckles, low and warm in her throat.
Her hands move to grip their waist as if on instinct as Carnelian closes the distance, thumbs rubbing slow circles on their hip bones.
"I want what I always want..." she tips her head, her lips just brushing theirs as her volume falls to a murmur, "you wanna see how good you can feel too?"
"Always," they murmur, breath warm against her lips.
They press forward slightly, chasing the kiss - slow at first, then more eagerly, hungry to taste her mouth. There's a simplicity in this which they enjoy; it's just about feeling good. That's simple. That's easy. That's fun.
"Much as I love the armour, you're wearing too much of it," they mumble into her mouth. Thankfully, steel doesn't affect them in the same way as cold iron does. It is still in the way of their hands, though.
She smiles through the kiss, mirroring the shift in intensity–all lips and tongue and teeth. It's good to just feel. To make someone feel.
"Mm– 's that right?" Dane takes the opportunity presented by the separation of their lips to kiss the corner of Carnelian's mouth, his jaw, just below his ear. Behind their back she's pulling at her gauntlet straps, loosening them enough to extract her hands.
With their newfound freedom, her hands run up the lean length of his back. She murmurs "what if i don't wanna stop touching you?"
A teasing nip at his neck—Carn can feel the smirk against their skin as she contradicts herself by continuing on with unbuckling her armor.
They arch approvingly into her touch, a sound rather like a purr escaping them. "Then you should hurry up with the de-armouring so I can touch you too," they demand, squirming at the nip. "Much as I do agree that I am wonderful to touch, and I entirely understand the desire to get distracted by me..."
They're not helping, though, crowding her backwards towards the tree, pressing themself closer. They kiss her again, humming approvingly into her mouth as their hands roam, ready to move in as soon as the armour is out of the way.
She huffs a laugh, breath fanning over the skin of their throat. "Impatient are we?"
Fortunately, she's been doing this for a long time, and without a squire for much of it.
She leans into the kiss, indulgently slow, as deft fingers work to release various clasps and ties.
It's not terribly long before she's down to her arming doublet and breeches, having shed each piece of her armor onto the forest floor in turn.
Her hands slip between the two of them, splayed against his front as they glide upward to his shoulders, pushing him to lean back just slightly so she can see his face when she grins, "Better?"
As soon as she's free from the armour Carn pounces. It's still difficult to feel much through the thick fabric of the arming doublet but they're trying, hauling her against them. They can at the very least feel the warmth of her body now - the rough shape of her as a full, living body.
"Better," they agree, grinning at her as she pushes him back. "My layers are rather less layered than yours." A silk shirt and fine cotton trousers, the silk a deep saffron. It leaves very little to the imagination, at least when the luxury of touch is involved. "Clearly you're a wonderful gift, that you need so much unwrapping."
She barks a laugh. "Or a pain in the ass, that it should take so long."
Their lips meet again, and she snakes one hand around to the middle of their back, the whisper-thin silk of his shirt smooth beneath her fingertips.
Her other hand comes to rest on the side of their neck, thumb just brushing the corner of their jaw as she pulls back to meet their gaze.
A charged moment of silence as she seems to search his eyes... then a wicked grin tugs at her lips.
In one fluid motion, she steps across him, easily pivoting the both of them around to cage him in, his back against the tree trunk this time, her thigh slotting between his legs.
"I do tend to agree with you though," her lips brush the shell of their ear—voice dark with want, "This is much better." Reluctantly, she pulls away just enough to begin undoing the ties down the front of her doublet.
They let out a surprised huff of air as their back smacks into the tree, but grin lasciviously. They begin to grind themself slowly against her thigh as they watch her undress. "Lucky me, front row seats to the strip show," they say with a filthy grin.
They're not exactly helping, reaching around to grab twin handfuls of her ass through her breeches, kneading the muscles and using the grip to pull her harder into them. "Mmm... damn. Better than front row seats..."
A small sound leaves Dane's lips at the contact. At the heat of his hands—stronger than she'd anticipated.
Her eyes are roving over Carnelian as she shucks the arming doublet. "Fucking hells," she curses under her breath, frustrated at the need to tug yet another layer, in the form of a thin shirt, over her head.
That out of the way, there's only a wide band of linen left around her breasts, a narrow ribbon wound through eyelets on one side to keep it in place.
Her hands alight on his waist, not to aid or to hinder, just to appreciate the sinuous roll of their hips. Lips find his neck again, slow and warm, drifting toward his collarbone. She hooks two fingers under the neckline of his shirt and tugs slightly. "You're turn gorgeous," she chuckles against their skin, "you gotta let go of my ass anyway if you want the breeches off."
"But I don't wanna let go of your ass," they gripe, not entirely serious. They do let go though, yanking off the silk shirt and dropping it carelessly to the ground. Bared like this, they're a confection of a creature - nipples pierced with gold, a metallic lustre decorating their skin. They grin at her, sliding their hands up her stomach. "Nice tattoos. 'Bad company'? Good to be forewarned."
She huffs a laugh, taking the moment they're removing their shirt to extract herself from between his thighs and rid herself of her breeches.
A pleasant, anticipatory shiver zips through her, skin prickling with gooseflesh at their touch. Swiftly she's back upon him, hands wandering the newly exposed skin. A thumb glides firmly, but not roughly, over one pierced nipple. "Mm.. how 'bout for now I let you be the judge of that?"
They bite their lip, grinning lazily as they press into her touch. "Mm. I'm a very good judge of whether or not someone's bad company, it's true."
They unlace their own trousers, having to wriggle a little to get out of the tightly tailored fabric - not enormously dignified, but sacrifices must be made in order to display their ass at its best advantage.
"Yea?" She rasps while impatient hands roam up his thighs, thumbs kneading into the soft crease between leg and pelvis.
She had no room to tease for any awkwardness in disrobing for as long as she just spent scattering bits of armor on the ground.
Teeth skate against their throat, hot breath fanning over their jaw. "How're you judging me for the moment then?"
They actually moan a little at the touch of teeth, tilting their head to give her better access. "Delicious company," they mumble. "Much recommended." They kick off the trousers impatiently and immediately grab for her ass again, kneading the muscles there. "Fuck, you feel good. All this muscle, damn..."
Dane smiles sinfully against their skin at the sound, tucking the information into her metaphorical back pocket.
Preening under the praise, she nips at his collarbone, thumbs still working firm circles at his hips. "Mn. You're so- fuck, I wanna take you apart."
She's lost in it now, practically vibrating at the feel, the scent, the taste of it all— the desire to ruin them both.
They laugh breathlessly. "Do it," they challenge, grinning. "Bet you can't."
Despite the words, they press closer to her, breath heavy and shaky. They're hard enough by now that it's making them feel a little unsteady. "Uh." Wait, does she want them to have a cock? Maybe they should have checked. But now it feels like it would be an awkward time to introduce that particular question...
She thrills at the challenge, "Oh?" Her voice low, dangerous. "You don't think so?"
Her knees hit the ground so hard Carnelian has to imagine it hurt, but she barely notices. She considers for an amused moment he might not have expected this of her.
Warm hands find his hips again, pressing him firmly against the tree at his back as a silent stay, and, slowly—frustratingly slowly; she's fighting to stay focused in spite of the heat of want between her legs— she's mouthing up his thighs.
Just a handsbreadth shy of where she's sure they'd really like her mouth to be, she laves her tongue over the thin skin of his inner thigh, looks up at them through her eyelashes, and bites.
"Gnhh-!"
They so nearly lose it right there and then, hips jerking involuntarily upwards. They press themselves back against the tree, panting as they try to pull themselves back under control. "F-fuck," they manage dazedly. "Do that - do that again." They reach down to grip the base of their cock hard, trying to keep themself under control.
Dane chuckles darky, pulling back just enough to look Carnelian in the eye, and– oh. He was a sight; sinful with those oddly fiery eyes blown black with desire.
She makes strangled sort of sound, acutely aware of her own arousal, but fuck she needed to pull that noise out of him again.
She presses forward, mouthing at the thin skin just to the right of his cock, feeling the heat of his skin on her cheek as her nose brushes his fingertips. "If I do," her voice comes out hoarse; gods but she must look just as affected, "you still gonna have it in you to fuck me after?"
She grazes her teeth—barely there— against the twin spot of his other thigh as she waits for a reply.
"Hhhahh- fuck, I'm not even sure - but I'll work it out," they pant. "... real risk of me just blowing inside you as soon as I put it in, and that's - not cool, ffuck..."
They bury their free hand in her hair - not trying to control her movements, just holding on. "Very - unf-fair of you, by the way! Making me look like some - quickshot... not my fault you fucking - gods..."
They're barely managing to keep up the banter, cock drooling over their hand despite their best efforts. It twitches hard at the graze of her teeth and they moan hoarsely, smacking their head back against the trunk of the tree behind them.
"Fuck, look at you– mm, why is that kinda hot?" She's not sure if she said that last bit out loud or not. Her eyes flutter and a low groan escapes her lips at the tug of his hand in her hair.
She squeezes her eyes shut for a second, willing herself to stay lucid. "Do I win the bet then?"
Without waiting for a response, she does sink her teeth into the flesh of his thigh, punctuating with an Indulgent, slow suck at the skin there.
They lose it.
If the bite hadn't been enough to send them over the edge, what followed would have been. They come with a strangled moan, inadvertently pressing Dane's head closer, fingers tangled in her hair. His grip on his cock does nothing whatsoever to delay the inevitable - all it does, thanks to the way he's gripping it, is direct the mess over his own abdomen rather than over Dane.
They slump back against the tree, dazed and dripping. "Fuck." Their voice is shaky and slightly awed as they stare down at her.
Dane smiles through the moan that leaves her as Carnelian spills over, fist tight in her hair.
She's doesn't pull back for a second. Nearly delirious with desire, anything she can do to keep the energy, the tension, she's going for it.
She shifts her weight to get her feet beneath her, planting wet open-mouthed kisses from where she began at his thigh, across his abdomen, laving her tongue over a nipple. When she's fully upright again, on admittedly shakey legs, she presses fully against them, lips brushing their ear.
"You– hhm– you wanna answer my question, gorgeous?"
He grabs at her as she makes her way upright, greedy for more touch, more anything - his cock is making a valiant attempt at recovering, his hips still jerking at each new shred of sensation.
"You win," they pant, clutching at her hips. "Fuck. There's no way I could argue otherwise. You win." They drag her into a sloppy, breathless kiss, careless of the mess they're making as they grind themself against her.
"Need to be inside you," they manage as they pull back for a second, before chasing her mouth again.
She leans into their touch, eager for anything he'll give her as long as its more.
Panting into the kiss, she breathes "Mn- so don't–hhah.. don't agrue". Her hands leave his skin, but she doesn't move from his lips. She's unlacing her underthings, letting them fall unceremoniously to her feet. "Can't believe I still– nnh– have these on.
She presses against them again, skin to skin, blissfully bare. "Fuck okay– we need to be horizontal like now.
Carnelian pulls away, looking around - nowhere close looks suitable. With a grumble he stomps his foot on the ground, his magic racing outwards. Thick, green moss blooms a carpet across a nearby patch of ground, thick enough to act as a reasonable cushion for activities. They drag Dane closer, grinning, and flop down on the moss, looking up at her. "How's this?"
Dane huffs out a breath as they land, caging him in with hands on either side of his head. "Again, better." She grins down at them, dark hair falling to frame her face.
She shifts to straddle him, sitting up straight, a slight arch in her back. With their cock trapped between their lower abdomen and the wet heat of her cunt, she experimentally rolls her hips. Once. Twice. An absolutely sinful moan pours from her at the friction.
She might have intended to tease him further, but she's too impatient to draw this out much more. She rises up on her knees enough to reach a hand between her thighs–slick with arousal–and lines him up, hissing at the stretch.
"H-holyshit... s'good," she bites her lip, head tipped back, forcing herself to sink down slowly. "You feel– ngh~"
He groans, trying to resist the urge to just thrust upwards into the hot clasp of her cunt. "Fuck, you're so wet-" He grips her hips, making himself stick to the torturously slow speed she's setting. Once he's all the way in he grinds against her for a moment, panting, before pulling back out again. He sinks back in with a moan. "Fuck... you're going to make me lose my mind..."
Dane only nods in agreement, lips parted, shuddering at the grind of their hips when she hits home.
Adjusted to their size, she sets a steady pace, not so agonizingly slow as before, but indulgent, letting herself savor the drag with every rock of her hips.
A smirk tugs at her lips watching him fight to follow her lead as far as pacing. Bet I can make him lose that fight, too.
"Mm. Good, hhah–" a moan rips from her as she shifts to lean forward to skate both thumbs over his nipples. "Bet you're– ngh, even prettier when you lose control."
"You're - doing this on fucking - purpose," they pant, hips jerking. "Fuck."
But that had sounded like a challenge.
Gripping her hips, they brace themself, beginning to fuck upwards into her with more intent now, no longer trying to match her pace. The filthy wet slap of flesh on flesh is loud amidst the quiet trees, and they love it - nothing courtly or civilised about any of this. It's perfect.
"Make that sound again," they pant, driving harder into her. "Moan for me. Let's hear you."
"Ah– s'what ‐ if I am?"
Dane might've laughed at the ease of it—of getting her way—but holy shit, fuck yes, was the hot, blunt slide of surrender beyond blissful.
She keens, blunt fingernails carving crescent moons into their shoulders.
"Yessss... gods you're so–" an absolutely undignified and borderline desperate sound wrenches from somewhere deep in her chest. "fFUCK 'm close–"
The bite of her fingernails tears a low sound from them, and they buck harder up into her. "Yes - do it-" They reach to circle her clit with their thumb, watching her face greedily. "Fall apart for me. Your turn, mutt, come for me."
They're not far off either, if they're honest. They would absolutely not have lasted without their first climax.
It hits her all at once; no preamble, all devastating impact. "Ohgods, FUCK–" a filthy moan rings through the trees, but the roar in her ears is all white noise, release wracking through her.
She shakes with it, rocking back to meet each forceful thrust of their hips even as she flutters around their length.
A dazed, but somehow still shit-eating grin plasters itself on her face as her eyes focus again, meeting his. "You're– mnh - kinda hot - y'know that?" she pants, still riding out the aftershocks of pleasure.
The shock of her release had tipped them over too, groaning as their cock pulsed inside her. They stare up at her and her shit-eating grin with dazed bemusement, panting and oversensitive as she continues to ride them. "I should fucking hope so!" they manage. "F- agh-" They twitch, grinding their softening cock deeper into her. Despite the sensitivity they're not yet ready to be done either.
This time she does laugh, bright and breathless with exertion; a thin sheen of sweat glazing her skin.
She can't remember the last time she had chemistry like this. Maybe ever.
Eventually though, they did have to part. She shifts, gasping with sensitivity as their softening cock slips free, their combined mess drooling from her. But she doesn't go far; just sits astride their thighs, thumbs finding their place again at his hipbones as her eyes rove lazily over their form, humming approvingly.
They don't rush her, hands drifting idly up to her ribs as they look up at her, sated and lazy.
"Well," they say after a moment, with a grin. "That was fun, huh? A better evening than you'd've spent with Sir Bozo?"
She leans into their touch; skin singing with sensitivity but basking in it rather than shying away. Like holding onto the feeling as she comes back to herself fully.
Nodding, eyes closed, she sighs contentedly. "Mn, infinitely so." She meets his gaze again, a certain spark of intensity in her eyes though she's grinning dazedly. "We will most definitely be doing that again. Fuck."
They laugh. "Good, I'm glad to hear it." With a bit of a groan he sits up without dislodging her, looping his arms loosely around her waist. "... I'm guessing you probably need to be reporting in, though?"
Hands glide from their hipbones up his abdomen as he sits up, one finding a place on his shoulder, the other tangling in the hair at the base of their neck.
"Probably," she agrees, reluctant to stop feeling—stop making him feel.
She rises slowly, stretching luxuriously. "Maybe next time you show me what you mean when you said you 'like to get creative.'" She winks, bending to gather her discarded clothes, unhurried.
They lean back on the hands, watching her unabashedly. "Absolutely," they say with a grin. "... it was good to meet you, Ser Vuurgast. Have fun with the aftermath of me chasing your colleague through the woods."
She grins. "Looking forward to it already." To the aftermath and the encore.
She's dressed again after just a few moments. "It's Dane, by the way. My name. You only have my family name."
She calls over her shoulder as she strolls back in the direction of the gates, helm tucked under one arm. "And you can drop the 'ser'."
He blinks - then grins faintly. "Good to meet you, Dane," he calls after her. I only have your family name, indeed.
And really, he was fine with that.
Earthy scents of oak and dark loam hang thick in the midnight air. The Dusk Watch is a shift that only gets more dull as it goes on—people shuttering their windows before bed mirroring the birds roosting for the night—until all the world is hushed and it's the sentry's duty to resist the gentle lull toward complacency. There are good reasons they're posted in twos. Sir Dead-Weight over there must be half a dozen of them.
For the third time this evening, the absolute lout of a man Dane was paired with leans toward her, brandishing a pair of dice. "All I'm sayin's we could pass the time with a game o' hazard. 's no' my fault if yer afraid to lo–"
She holds up a hand to cut him off, scanning the nearby woods. "Shut the fuck up, will you?" She's sure she heard something; a rustling in the brambles, just out of view. "Probably just a wild animal, but a fight with a damn porcupine beats standing here with you. Mind your post."
She doesn't wait for a reply before stalking forward on light feet, one hand drifting toward the falchion at her hip as she breeches the treeline.
@fae-prince-carnelian
Carnelian is up to mischief. Carnelian is, admittedly, always up to mischief.
Today though, it's harmless. They'd taken a wander through the woods, slightly grumpy, after their little encounter with Sierra, Princess Margaret and the wizard; it didn't feel as everyone had been entirely enchanted by them and that was, obviously, awful. But they were back out in the woods now - their realm - and so that was all fine.
Currently they were up a tree, dangling upside down with knees hooked over the branch above them as they picked idly at a pinecone. They paused, hearing something crashing through undergrowth nearby - big and on the civilisation side. Probably a person. They dropped down and went to investigate, curious.
Oh! Person.
They slink through the brambles, curious; the plants part for them to allow them through.
Dane moves more quietly than most would through the groundcover, but with brambles this thick it's still louder than she'd like.
She pauses, scanning for signs of anything amiss. If there was someone out here, they'd better have a good reason.
Not the best route for a theif to take by far. Too difficult to come back the way they came with arms full of spoils. Could always be a lookout for another sort of crime, though.
There's movement up ahead in the underbrush. No, scratch that, the brush itself is moving. She squints through the murky darkness. There is someone there.
"Speak your name," she rasps, hand ready at the grip of her blade. "I don't like surprises."
In the darkness, Carn grins, muscles bunching slightly. They want to frighten this little - well, not so little - human. They want to see what she does when surprised. They pace smoothly to the side, circling her as they consider.
But she already looks jumpy, and she's holding a sword.
"Oh, I don't share my name with just anyone," they say regardless. "But since you ask... may I have yours?"
And she does startle, just slightly; everything going tense for just a breath before she turns evenly in the direction of the voice.
Hard to make out any detail in the dark. She lifts her visor to give herself a better view of the stranger.
Nothing about them seems to speak of criminal intent - they're not dressed to conceal. Her shoulders drop, relaxing a bit as her eyes flick over his form in search of a weapon and finding none. Her hand doesn't stray from the grip of her own weapon, however. There is something peculiar about this one, she just can't quite place it.
She swallows, and her voice comes out clear; convincingly steady. "It's Vuurgast." Her brow furrows. She's the one who's asking the questions here. "You make a habit of gadding about in the woods in the middle of the night?" She gestures with her right hand, indicating the falchion held loosely in its grasp. "I could have swung at you instead of asking questions."
Carnelian grins. Such a sweetly trusting little human. "Vuurgast." They savour the name for a second, the taste of it on their tongue - a little sweet, a little bitter, something almost earthy about it. Delicious. Theirs, now, not that she knows.
They leave it be. They hold the name within them, now - but it doesn't mean they have to do anything with it, yet.
"I do, actually. I quite like it out here," they answer, motioning around the woods at large. "You seem a little nervous, considering you're also gadding about in the woods in the middle of the night. You seem a bit less comfortable with the idea than I am. And you could have swung at me, but there's quite a lot of plants in the way, right? I bet those aren't good for a blade. The woods is a bad place for a swordfight."
Dane narrows her eyes a touch, unsure if she likes the tone in which her name was spoken back to her.
She tilts her head just slightly, listening not a bit skeptically to their sorely lacking explanation as to their purpose in the forest.
Gesturing to herself—armored and armed, having clearly come from the direction of the Gates—she deadpans, "It is. Kind of my job to be on alert." She shifts her weight, glancing over their shoulder at the trees behind. "Used to spend a lot of time out after dark actually, just never could get used to the quiet of the woods at night. In town if it's this quiet, someone's up to something." Her voice deepens to an almost smoky timbre as she completes the thought. It seems she's still not entirely convinced someone isn't.
Choosing to put that aside for the moment, she pinches the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, sighing, "Woods wouldn't be my first pick for a place to fight, no, but I have a feeling if you were itching to start one," she quirks an eyebrow, "You'd have done it by now, seeing as you've got me here. Alone."
"Maybe it's not a fight I'm itching for," Carnelian says, with a teasing grin. But she's caught their attention now, and they tilt their head, curious. "So towns are noisy, then? It's only suspicious when it's quiet? I mean, that does sort of go for the woods, too. If you can't hear nature something's wrong. What were you doing out after dark, when you used to spend a lot of time out here?"
They wander closer, peering at her with interest - her face is visible with the visor up, and they have no trouble seeing in the dark.
"So you're a guard then? Pretty dedicated to be wandering out here rather than just hiding behind your walls until the trouble comes to you."
Oh? A bold one, they are. Alright. If it's banter, she can play that game.
A smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth. "Getting up to no good, usually."
Then her brow knits together. She's not so distracted by that train of thought as to miss the other implication in their words. "Have you... never been in a town?"
Something softens in her at the almost childlike curiosity in their eyes as they peer at her. She signs internally, this is probably stupid... She reaches up with both hands and removes her helm.
"Mm. Not so much dedicated as annoyed with the dolt they've lumped me in with tonight." She grins roguishly. "Thought you might be a porcupine. Seemed the preferable sort of prick to deal with."
Carn lets out a delighted little bark of laughter. "Maybe you should've sent him after the porcupine instead. But I can see the thinking. What if it had been something bigger than a porcupine and scarier than me?" They raise an eyebrow.
They pause at the question. "I mean, I've been in a town before. But never at night, and never really long enough to take note of how the sounds change. It just seemed always really noisy to me. Just -" They wave their hands vaguely. It's hard to explain how civilisation feels for them - being surrounded by iron has a sensation they can feel in their teeth.
Something occurs to them, and they grin impishly. "Hey. Do you wanna mess with your doltish colleague?"
"Scarier than you? Hmm.." her words dripping with mock-contemplation as she looks them up and down, pretending to evaluate the threat-level for comparison's sake. A crooked smirk plays on her lips, her tongue curling briefly around a canine. "Dunno, you're pretty stunning as it is." The double-meaning of the word toward 'frightening' is a stretch at best, but she tries for it anyway. "B'sides that, if I'd have stayed at my post you'd have had him to talk to instead of me." she huffs a quiet chuckle.
Dane absently runs the hand not occupied holding her helm through her hair, nodding as she listens. Guess being outta your element can be overwhelming in either direction.
She raises her eyebrows. Maybe a bit of a scare would set the man right. "...What did you have in mind?"
Carn's delight this time is even more palpable. "Oh, she flirts! You're definitely preferable to the rumoured bozo. Yeah, I definitely got the better option." They admire her as she runs a hand through her hair, amused.
At the question, they tilt their head, considering. "Depends how mean ya want to be. Are we just giving him a little jolt, or seeing if we can make him piss his braies?"
The corners of her eyes crinkle as her grin stretches across her face. "I wanna say I got the best of three options, but that's probably not too flattering considering your competition. No offense to the porcupine."
She actually laughs at the question. A warm sound from somewhere deep in her chest. "Ehhh, as long as he's not hurt on my watch. Not sure I could make a great excuse for that seeing as I'm s'posed to be over there with him."
"Pissing his braies it is!" Carn says brightly. "I can chase him through the woods for you a bit if you like - not too far into them. Herd him like a sheepdog. Maybe it'll make him buck up his ideas a bit."
They look around, thoughtful. "If you tell him you've found something and bring him over I can torment him a little bit. Though I suppose you won't be able to watch and enjoy it if I'm chasing him through the trees, will you?"
Dane snorts a laugh at their enthusiasm, shaking her head. Almost fondly.
"Sure, I could tell him to come over here, but I bet he'd expect me to rescue him from you, even if he didn't wonder why I wasn't being chased myself..." Dane chews her lip as she considers.
Carn can pinpoint the moment the idea comes to her by the look in her eyes. "What if we get close enough to the treeline he can hear me shout for help, but I hide before he gets here? Then you can chase him to your heart's content, and I get to scare him again when he mentions it to me later by pretending I don't know what he's talking about. I didn't call for help at all." A conspiratorial smile spreads across her face. "'n fact, I didn't hear anyone else yell either."
Dane meets their gaze, resisting the urge to instead gaze at them. They're an uncanny sort of pretty.
"Course, I still wouldn't get to watch," she tilts her head just slightly. "So, I guess you'd have to tell me about it some other time"
Carn's grin curls wickedly. Are their teeth just a little too sharp? It's hard to tell, in the dim light. "That sounds perfect," they breathe, staring at her admiringly. "You have a brilliant mind, dearest Ser Vuurgast. Wonderful! Then we have a plan. You'll shout for help, and I'll wait to gently terrorise your hapless coworker. It'll be magnificent!"
They beam at her, pleased. "You'll have to tell me how he reacts when you act like nothing's happened, too. I bet it'll be delicious."
Dane chuckles, allowing herself a moment to bask in the compliment. She's often commended for her strength, or her skill with a blade; it's not nearly so often that she's praised for her mind.
She takes a few steps in the direction of the gates as she scouts for a place to quickly hide in after getting the other knight's attention.
A thick snarl of brambles lies not too far off, earning an appreciative nod. This'll do nicely.
"Deal. But y'know, I do usually like to know what to call someone before I agree to see them again." She gives a crooked grin, "For delicious exchanges or otherwise."
"Oh! I forgot!" They smack their forehead lightly. "Carnelian! You can call me Carnelian. I look forward to further delicious exchanges." They grin at her. "Have fun being bozo-bait."
They slip into their own patch of undergrowth, moving through it suspiciously easily. They'lll choose their moment carefully.
Carnelian. It suits them.
She winks, voice ringing out in the night. "There's definitely something out here! I can take 'em, but be on–" she cuts herself off, putting on what she hopes is a convincing air of alarm. "oh FUCK, get out here!"
She hastens to her hiding spot–if she's crashing through the underbrush she hopes he'll assume it's the sounds of a fight–and nestles quickly among the leaves and vines, sufficiently out of sight.
Quiet. Quiet. Heavy footfalls. He's on his way.
The bozo's path into the woods is as loud and obvious to Carnelian's enhanced senses as if he'd had cowbells tied to every limb. Their grin widens, tongue flickering out to wet their lips, and moves into action.
Sir Bozo crashes into the clearing where they'd been, breathing heavily. "What the fuck? Where's-"
He freezes as a sound rumbles out from the undergrowth - a growl, deep and low, the kind of noise which turns guts to liquid. His panicked gaze flickers over the dark leaves and spots, amongst them, a pair of glowing eyes. He makes a strangled sound, turns to run - and behind him something bursts out of the trees to chase.
The woods are alive with movement, as if an entire pack of monsters is chasing him down - thrashing branches and leaves, the crack of branches and wild movement which suggest huge bodies moving through spaces too small for them. The sounds too come from everywhere, snarling growls chasing the hapless prey onwards, deeper into the dark trees, his fear leaving the stink of itself behind like a beacon to follow.
She peers through the brush, trying her best to watch the commotion, but hearing more than seeing in the darkness.
The snarl seems to vibrate in her chest. What in the hells?
Dane has half a mind to abandon her hiding spot; she has no intention of leaving the man to fend for himself against a large predator, but... the noise seems to be coming from where Carnelian slipped off to. Maybe with all their time in the woods they've learned to mimic animal calls? Could be useful.
Then more. The sounds of leaves rustling and branches snapping in all directions–but something's off.
The back of her neck prickles with unease as much at the wrongness of the sound as her inability to pinpoint it.
There are no footfalls.
Something making that much racket would be big. Heavy. The only actual impact she hears on the ground is paired with the metallic clink clink clink of armor.
All at once it clicks. It's an illusion. Son of a bitch, they have magic.
Carn doesn't even need the stink of Bozo's fear to follow him, but it helps. They herd him skillfully along, carefully positioning the movement of trees and bushes to make sure he doesn't veer off too deep into the woods - just deep enough into the trees that the light is gone.
And then, finally, they herd him out again.
Bozo breaks free of the trees bordering the town again and stumbles with the sudden shock of it, jelly-legged - before booking it back towards the gates with a scream. Back in the treeline, Carn drops out of their shapeshift, breathing heavily and grinning. They can't maintain something that size for very long, but sometimes the effect is worth it. They stretch luxuriously, and then turn to make their way back through the trees towards Dane, whistling cheerfully. It's a good day.
They've moved too far off for Dane to see, but the panicked cry still reaches her ears in the night.
Chuckling, she extracts herself from the brambles and stretches, gauntleted hands pressed to her lower back. She moves to lean against the thick trunk of a nearby tree, awaiting Carnelian's return.
When they find her, she's got her arms crossed, shaking her head as if prepared to scold them, but there's no malice behind her eyes—a grin creeps across her face as they draw nearer. She laughs, "One of these days I'll remember a lack of steel doesn't mean a lack of power."
They grin. "Oh, decidedly not. I'm not sure if he literally pissed himself or not, but it was close. A little dribble at minimum." They smirk. "You'll have to tell me what his face looks like when you tell him you weren't there and heard nothing."
Now that the immediate window for mischief has close, they eye her lazily up and down, mimicking her posture against a tree, arms folded. "So, Ser Vuurgast. What now?"
"Good enough for me!" She snorts a laugh "If he's embarrassed enough he won't mention too many details to anyone else. Including how long I've been away from my post."
She holds up a hand as if swearing an oath, but doesn't adjust her relaxed posture. "You have my word, you'll hear every detail."
Dane doesn't squirm under their gaze as some would, just lets them look, watching their face as she waits for eye contact to return. "Mm. Dunno." She smirks, a crooked sort of thing, eyes half-lidded. "What's a pretty thing like you usually do when they find themselves alone with someone in the woods? When you aren't scaring the piss out of 'em, that is."
"Depends if the other person is also a pretty thing," Carn says, with a grin. They stroll forwards to loop their arms lazily around her neck - no attempt to play coy here. "And then I like getting creative. Though if you don't know what you want to do..." They give an exaggerated shrug, pulling away again.
Dane hums appreciatively at the proximity, eyes flicking just briefly to Carnelian's lips as they speak.
They smell of summer. Bright and warm at once. Almost like wassail.
She rolls her eyes at the jest, but grins, voice dipping once again to a low, smoky timbre. "You didn't ask what I wanted, Carnelian. You asked what's next."
"Well then, shall I try again? What do you want, Ser Vuurgast?" Their tongue flickers out to wet their lips, swaying back towards her once again. This time they press themself against her properly, grinning. "I thought perhaps you might not know that, either."
She chuckles, low and warm in her throat.
Her hands move to grip their waist as if on instinct as Carnelian closes the distance, thumbs rubbing slow circles on their hip bones.
"I want what I always want..." she tips her head, her lips just brushing theirs as her volume falls to a murmur, "you wanna see how good you can feel too?"
"Always," they murmur, breath warm against her lips.
They press forward slightly, chasing the kiss - slow at first, then more eagerly, hungry to taste her mouth. There's a simplicity in this which they enjoy; it's just about feeling good. That's simple. That's easy. That's fun.
"Much as I love the armour, you're wearing too much of it," they mumble into her mouth. Thankfully, steel doesn't affect them in the same way as cold iron does. It is still in the way of their hands, though.
She smiles through the kiss, mirroring the shift in intensity–all lips and tongue and teeth. It's good to just feel. To make someone feel.
"Mm– 's that right?" Dane takes the opportunity presented by the separation of their lips to kiss the corner of Carnelian's mouth, his jaw, just below his ear. Behind their back she's pulling at her gauntlet straps, loosening them enough to extract her hands.
With their newfound freedom, her hands run up the lean length of his back. She murmurs "what if i don't wanna stop touching you?"
A teasing nip at his neck—Carn can feel the smirk against their skin as she contradicts herself by continuing on with unbuckling her armor.
They arch approvingly into her touch, a sound rather like a purr escaping them. "Then you should hurry up with the de-armouring so I can touch you too," they demand, squirming at the nip. "Much as I do agree that I am wonderful to touch, and I entirely understand the desire to get distracted by me..."
They're not helping, though, crowding her backwards towards the tree, pressing themself closer. They kiss her again, humming approvingly into her mouth as their hands roam, ready to move in as soon as the armour is out of the way.
She huffs a laugh, breath fanning over the skin of their throat. "Impatient are we?"
Fortunately, she's been doing this for a long time, and without a squire for much of it.
She leans into the kiss, indulgently slow, as deft fingers work to release various clasps and ties.
It's not terribly long before she's down to her arming doublet and breeches, having shed each piece of her armor onto the forest floor in turn.
Her hands slip between the two of them, splayed against his front as they glide upward to his shoulders, pushing him to lean back just slightly so she can see his face when she grins, "Better?"
As soon as she's free from the armour Carn pounces. It's still difficult to feel much through the thick fabric of the arming doublet but they're trying, hauling her against them. They can at the very least feel the warmth of her body now - the rough shape of her as a full, living body.
"Better," they agree, grinning at her as she pushes him back. "My layers are rather less layered than yours." A silk shirt and fine cotton trousers, the silk a deep saffron. It leaves very little to the imagination, at least when the luxury of touch is involved. "Clearly you're a wonderful gift, that you need so much unwrapping."
She barks a laugh. "Or a pain in the ass, that it should take so long."
Their lips meet again, and she snakes one hand around to the middle of their back, the whisper-thin silk of his shirt smooth beneath her fingertips.
Her other hand comes to rest on the side of their neck, thumb just brushing the corner of their jaw as she pulls back to meet their gaze.
A charged moment of silence as she seems to search his eyes... then a wicked grin tugs at her lips.
In one fluid motion, she steps across him, easily pivoting the both of them around to cage him in, his back against the tree trunk this time, her thigh slotting between his legs.
"I do tend to agree with you though," her lips brush the shell of their ear—voice dark with want, "This is much better." Reluctantly, she pulls away just enough to begin undoing the ties down the front of her doublet.
They let out a surprised huff of air as their back smacks into the tree, but grin lasciviously. They begin to grind themself slowly against her thigh as they watch her undress. "Lucky me, front row seats to the strip show," they say with a filthy grin.
They're not exactly helping, reaching around to grab twin handfuls of her ass through her breeches, kneading the muscles and using the grip to pull her harder into them. "Mmm... damn. Better than front row seats..."
A small sound leaves Dane's lips at the contact. At the heat of his hands—stronger than she'd anticipated.
Her eyes are roving over Carnelian as she shucks the arming doublet. "Fucking hells," she curses under her breath, frustrated at the need to tug yet another layer, in the form of a thin shirt, over her head.
That out of the way, there's only a wide band of linen left around her breasts, a narrow ribbon wound through eyelets on one side to keep it in place.
Her hands alight on his waist, not to aid or to hinder, just to appreciate the sinuous roll of their hips. Lips find his neck again, slow and warm, drifting toward his collarbone. She hooks two fingers under the neckline of his shirt and tugs slightly. "You're turn gorgeous," she chuckles against their skin, "you gotta let go of my ass anyway if you want the breeches off."
"But I don't wanna let go of your ass," they gripe, not entirely serious. They do let go though, yanking off the silk shirt and dropping it carelessly to the ground. Bared like this, they're a confection of a creature - nipples pierced with gold, a metallic lustre decorating their skin. They grin at her, sliding their hands up her stomach. "Nice tattoos. 'Bad company'? Good to be forewarned."
She huffs a laugh, taking the moment they're removing their shirt to extract herself from between his thighs and rid herself of her breeches.
A pleasant, anticipatory shiver zips through her, skin prickling with gooseflesh at their touch. Swiftly she's back upon him, hands wandering the newly exposed skin. A thumb glides firmly, but not roughly, over one pierced nipple. "Mm.. how 'bout for now I let you be the judge of that?"
They bite their lip, grinning lazily as they press into her touch. "Mm. I'm a very good judge of whether or not someone's bad company, it's true."
They unlace their own trousers, having to wriggle a little to get out of the tightly tailored fabric - not enormously dignified, but sacrifices must be made in order to display their ass at its best advantage.
"Yea?" She rasps while impatient hands roam up his thighs, thumbs kneading into the soft crease between leg and pelvis.
She had no room to tease for any awkwardness in disrobing for as long as she just spent scattering bits of armor on the ground.
Teeth skate against their throat, hot breath fanning over their jaw. "How're you judging me for the moment then?"
They actually moan a little at the touch of teeth, tilting their head to give her better access. "Delicious company," they mumble. "Much recommended." They kick off the trousers impatiently and immediately grab for her ass again, kneading the muscles there. "Fuck, you feel good. All this muscle, damn..."
Dane smiles sinfully against their skin at the sound, tucking the information into her metaphorical back pocket.
Preening under the praise, she nips at his collarbone, thumbs still working firm circles at his hips. "Mn. You're so- fuck, I wanna take you apart."
She's lost in it now, practically vibrating at the feel, the scent, the taste of it all— the desire to ruin them both.
They laugh breathlessly. "Do it," they challenge, grinning. "Bet you can't."
Despite the words, they press closer to her, breath heavy and shaky. They're hard enough by now that it's making them feel a little unsteady. "Uh." Wait, does she want them to have a cock? Maybe they should have checked. But now it feels like it would be an awkward time to introduce that particular question...
She thrills at the challenge, "Oh?" Her voice low, dangerous. "You don't think so?"
Her knees hit the ground so hard Carnelian has to imagine it hurt, but she barely notices. She considers for an amused moment he might not have expected this of her.
Warm hands find his hips again, pressing him firmly against the tree at his back as a silent stay, and, slowly—frustratingly slowly; she's fighting to stay focused in spite of the heat of want between her legs— she's mouthing up his thighs.
Just a handsbreadth shy of where she's sure they'd really like her mouth to be, she laves her tongue over the thin skin of his inner thigh, looks up at them through her eyelashes, and bites.
"Gnhh-!"
They so nearly lose it right there and then, hips jerking involuntarily upwards. They press themselves back against the tree, panting as they try to pull themselves back under control. "F-fuck," they manage dazedly. "Do that - do that again." They reach down to grip the base of their cock hard, trying to keep themself under control.
Dane chuckles darky, pulling back just enough to look Carnelian in the eye, and– oh. He was a sight; sinful with those oddly fiery eyes blown black with desire.
She makes strangled sort of sound, acutely aware of her own arousal, but fuck she needed to pull that noise out of him again.
She presses forward, mouthing at the thin skin just to the right of his cock, feeling the heat of his skin on her cheek as her nose brushes his fingertips. "If I do," her voice comes out hoarse; gods but she must look just as affected, "you still gonna have it in you to fuck me after?"
She grazes her teeth—barely there— against the twin spot of his other thigh as she waits for a reply.
"Hhhahh- fuck, I'm not even sure - but I'll work it out," they pant. "... real risk of me just blowing inside you as soon as I put it in, and that's - not cool, ffuck..."
They bury their free hand in her hair - not trying to control her movements, just holding on. "Very - unf-fair of you, by the way! Making me look like some - quickshot... not my fault you fucking - gods..."
They're barely managing to keep up the banter, cock drooling over their hand despite their best efforts. It twitches hard at the graze of her teeth and they moan hoarsely, smacking their head back against the trunk of the tree behind them.
"Fuck, look at you– mm, why is that kinda hot?" She's not sure if she said that last bit out loud or not. Her eyes flutter and a low groan escapes her lips at the tug of his hand in her hair.
She squeezes her eyes shut for a second, willing herself to stay lucid. "Do I win the bet then?"
Without waiting for a response, she does sink her teeth into the flesh of his thigh, punctuating with an Indulgent, slow suck at the skin there.
They lose it.
If the bite hadn't been enough to send them over the edge, what followed would have been. They come with a strangled moan, inadvertently pressing Dane's head closer, fingers tangled in her hair. His grip on his cock does nothing whatsoever to delay the inevitable - all it does, thanks to the way he's gripping it, is direct the mess over his own abdomen rather than over Dane.
They slump back against the tree, dazed and dripping. "Fuck." Their voice is shaky and slightly awed as they stare down at her.
Dane smiles through the moan that leaves her as Carnelian spills over, fist tight in her hair.
She's doesn't pull back for a second. Nearly delirious with desire, anything she can do to keep the energy, the tension, she's going for it.
She shifts her weight to get her feet beneath her, planting wet open-mouthed kisses from where she began at his thigh, across his abdomen, laving her tongue over a nipple. When she's fully upright again, on admittedly shakey legs, she presses fully against them, lips brushing their ear.
"You– hhm– you wanna answer my question, gorgeous?"
He grabs at her as she makes her way upright, greedy for more touch, more anything - his cock is making a valiant attempt at recovering, his hips still jerking at each new shred of sensation.
"You win," they pant, clutching at her hips. "Fuck. There's no way I could argue otherwise. You win." They drag her into a sloppy, breathless kiss, careless of the mess they're making as they grind themself against her.
"Need to be inside you," they manage as they pull back for a second, before chasing her mouth again.
She leans into their touch, eager for anything he'll give her as long as its more.
Panting into the kiss, she breathes "Mn- so don't–hhah.. don't agrue". Her hands leave his skin, but she doesn't move from his lips. She's unlacing her underthings, letting them fall unceremoniously to her feet. "Can't believe I still– nnh– have these on.
She presses against them again, skin to skin, blissfully bare. "Fuck okay– we need to be horizontal like now.
Carnelian pulls away, looking around - nowhere close looks suitable. With a grumble he stomps his foot on the ground, his magic racing outwards. Thick, green moss blooms a carpet across a nearby patch of ground, thick enough to act as a reasonable cushion for activities. They drag Dane closer, grinning, and flop down on the moss, looking up at her. "How's this?"
Dane huffs out a breath as they land, caging him in with hands on either side of his head. "Again, better." She grins down at them, dark hair falling to frame her face.
She shifts to straddle him, sitting up straight, a slight arch in her back. With their cock trapped between their lower abdomen and the wet heat of her cunt, she experimentally rolls her hips. Once. Twice. An absolutely sinful moan pours from her at the friction.
She might have intended to tease him further, but she's too impatient to draw this out much more. She rises up on her knees enough to reach a hand between her thighs–slick with arousal–and lines him up, hissing at the stretch.
"H-holyshit... s'good," she bites her lip, head tipped back, forcing herself to sink down slowly. "You feel– ngh~"
He groans, trying to resist the urge to just thrust upwards into the hot clasp of her cunt. "Fuck, you're so wet-" He grips her hips, making himself stick to the torturously slow speed she's setting. Once he's all the way in he grinds against her for a moment, panting, before pulling back out again. He sinks back in with a moan. "Fuck... you're going to make me lose my mind..."
Dane only nods in agreement, lips parted, shuddering at the grind of their hips when she hits home.
Adjusted to their size, she sets a steady pace, not so agonizingly slow as before, but indulgent, letting herself savor the drag with every rock of her hips.
A smirk tugs at her lips watching him fight to follow her lead as far as pacing. Bet I can make him lose that fight, too.
"Mm. Good, hhah–" a moan rips from her as she shifts to lean forward to skate both thumbs over his nipples. "Bet you're– ngh, even prettier when you lose control."
"You're - doing this on fucking - purpose," they pant, hips jerking. "Fuck."
But that had sounded like a challenge.
Gripping her hips, they brace themself, beginning to fuck upwards into her with more intent now, no longer trying to match her pace. The filthy wet slap of flesh on flesh is loud amidst the quiet trees, and they love it - nothing courtly or civilised about any of this. It's perfect.
"Make that sound again," they pant, driving harder into her. "Moan for me. Let's hear you."
"Ah– s'what ‐ if I am?"
Dane might've laughed at the ease of it—of getting her way—but holy shit, fuck yes, was the hot, blunt slide of surrender beyond blissful.
She keens, blunt fingernails carving crescent moons into their shoulders.
"Yessss... gods you're so–" an absolutely undignified and borderline desperate sound wrenches from somewhere deep in her chest. "fFUCK 'm close–"
The bite of her fingernails tears a low sound from them, and they buck harder up into her. "Yes - do it-" They reach to circle her clit with their thumb, watching her face greedily. "Fall apart for me. Your turn, mutt, come for me."
They're not far off either, if they're honest. They would absolutely not have lasted without their first climax.
It hits her all at once; no preamble, all devastating impact. "Ohgods, FUCK–" a filthy moan rings through the trees, but the roar in her ears is all white noise, release wracking through her.
She shakes with it, rocking back to meet each forceful thrust of their hips even as she flutters around their length.
A dazed, but somehow still shit-eating grin plasters itself on her face as her eyes focus again, meeting his. "You're– mnh - kinda hot - y'know that?" she pants, still riding out the aftershocks of pleasure.
The shock of her release had tipped them over too, groaning as their cock pulsed inside her. They stare up at her and her shit-eating grin with dazed bemusement, panting and oversensitive as she continues to ride them. "I should fucking hope so!" they manage. "F- agh-" They twitch, grinding their softening cock deeper into her. Despite the sensitivity they're not yet ready to be done either.
This time she does laugh, bright and breathless with exertion; a thin sheen of sweat glazing her skin.
She can't remember the last time she had chemistry like this. Maybe ever.
Eventually though, they did have to part. She shifts, gasping with sensitivity as their softening cock slips free, their combined mess drooling from her. But she doesn't go far; just sits astride their thighs, thumbs finding their place again at his hipbones as her eyes rove lazily over their form, humming approvingly.
They don't rush her, hands drifting idly up to her ribs as they look up at her, sated and lazy.
"Well," they say after a moment, with a grin. "That was fun, huh? A better evening than you'd've spent with Sir Bozo?"
She leans into their touch; skin singing with sensitivity but basking in it rather than shying away. Like holding onto the feeling as she comes back to herself fully.
Nodding, eyes closed, she sighs contentedly. "Mn, infinitely so." She meets his gaze again, a certain spark of intensity in her eyes though she's grinning dazedly. "We will most definitely be doing that again. Fuck."
They laugh. "Good, I'm glad to hear it." With a bit of a groan he sits up without dislodging her, looping his arms loosely around her waist. "... I'm guessing you probably need to be reporting in, though?"
Hands glide from their hipbones up his abdomen as he sits up, one finding a place on his shoulder, the other tangling in the hair at the base of their neck.
"Probably," she agrees, reluctant to stop feeling—stop making him feel.
She rises slowly, stretching luxuriously. "Maybe next time you show me what you mean when you said you 'like to get creative.'" She winks, bending to gather her discarded clothes, unhurried.
They lean back on the hands, watching her unabashedly. "Absolutely," they say with a grin. "... it was good to meet you, Ser Vuurgast. Have fun with the aftermath of me chasing your colleague through the woods."
Earthy scents of oak and dark loam hang thick in the midnight air. The Dusk Watch is a shift that only gets more dull as it goes on—people shuttering their windows before bed mirroring the birds roosting for the night—until all the world is hushed and it's the sentry's duty to resist the gentle lull toward complacency. There are good reasons they're posted in twos. Sir Dead-Weight over there must be half a dozen of them.
For the third time this evening, the absolute lout of a man Dane was paired with leans toward her, brandishing a pair of dice. "All I'm sayin's we could pass the time with a game o' hazard. 's no' my fault if yer afraid to lo–"
She holds up a hand to cut him off, scanning the nearby woods. "Shut the fuck up, will you?" She's sure she heard something; a rustling in the brambles, just out of view. "Probably just a wild animal, but a fight with a damn porcupine beats standing here with you. Mind your post."
She doesn't wait for a reply before stalking forward on light feet, one hand drifting toward the falchion at her hip as she breeches the treeline.
@fae-prince-carnelian
Carnelian is up to mischief. Carnelian is, admittedly, always up to mischief.
Today though, it's harmless. They'd taken a wander through the woods, slightly grumpy, after their little encounter with Sierra, Princess Margaret and the wizard; it didn't feel as everyone had been entirely enchanted by them and that was, obviously, awful. But they were back out in the woods now - their realm - and so that was all fine.
Currently they were up a tree, dangling upside down with knees hooked over the branch above them as they picked idly at a pinecone. They paused, hearing something crashing through undergrowth nearby - big and on the civilisation side. Probably a person. They dropped down and went to investigate, curious.
Oh! Person.
They slink through the brambles, curious; the plants part for them to allow them through.
Dane moves more quietly than most would through the groundcover, but with brambles this thick it's still louder than she'd like.
She pauses, scanning for signs of anything amiss. If there was someone out here, they'd better have a good reason.
Not the best route for a theif to take by far. Too difficult to come back the way they came with arms full of spoils. Could always be a lookout for another sort of crime, though.
There's movement up ahead in the underbrush. No, scratch that, the brush itself is moving. She squints through the murky darkness. There is someone there.
"Speak your name," she rasps, hand ready at the grip of her blade. "I don't like surprises."
In the darkness, Carn grins, muscles bunching slightly. They want to frighten this little - well, not so little - human. They want to see what she does when surprised. They pace smoothly to the side, circling her as they consider.
But she already looks jumpy, and she's holding a sword.
"Oh, I don't share my name with just anyone," they say regardless. "But since you ask... may I have yours?"
And she does startle, just slightly; everything going tense for just a breath before she turns evenly in the direction of the voice.
Hard to make out any detail in the dark. She lifts her visor to give herself a better view of the stranger.
Nothing about them seems to speak of criminal intent - they're not dressed to conceal. Her shoulders drop, relaxing a bit as her eyes flick over his form in search of a weapon and finding none. Her hand doesn't stray from the grip of her own weapon, however. There is something peculiar about this one, she just can't quite place it.
She swallows, and her voice comes out clear; convincingly steady. "It's Vuurgast." Her brow furrows. She's the one who's asking the questions here. "You make a habit of gadding about in the woods in the middle of the night?" She gestures with her right hand, indicating the falchion held loosely in its grasp. "I could have swung at you instead of asking questions."
Carnelian grins. Such a sweetly trusting little human. "Vuurgast." They savour the name for a second, the taste of it on their tongue - a little sweet, a little bitter, something almost earthy about it. Delicious. Theirs, now, not that she knows.
They leave it be. They hold the name within them, now - but it doesn't mean they have to do anything with it, yet.
"I do, actually. I quite like it out here," they answer, motioning around the woods at large. "You seem a little nervous, considering you're also gadding about in the woods in the middle of the night. You seem a bit less comfortable with the idea than I am. And you could have swung at me, but there's quite a lot of plants in the way, right? I bet those aren't good for a blade. The woods is a bad place for a swordfight."
Dane narrows her eyes a touch, unsure if she likes the tone in which her name was spoken back to her.
She tilts her head just slightly, listening not a bit skeptically to their sorely lacking explanation as to their purpose in the forest.
Gesturing to herself—armored and armed, having clearly come from the direction of the Gates—she deadpans, "It is. Kind of my job to be on alert." She shifts her weight, glancing over their shoulder at the trees behind. "Used to spend a lot of time out after dark actually, just never could get used to the quiet of the woods at night. In town if it's this quiet, someone's up to something." Her voice deepens to an almost smoky timbre as she completes the thought. It seems she's still not entirely convinced someone isn't.
Choosing to put that aside for the moment, she pinches the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, sighing, "Woods wouldn't be my first pick for a place to fight, no, but I have a feeling if you were itching to start one," she quirks an eyebrow, "You'd have done it by now, seeing as you've got me here. Alone."
"Maybe it's not a fight I'm itching for," Carnelian says, with a teasing grin. But she's caught their attention now, and they tilt their head, curious. "So towns are noisy, then? It's only suspicious when it's quiet? I mean, that does sort of go for the woods, too. If you can't hear nature something's wrong. What were you doing out after dark, when you used to spend a lot of time out here?"
They wander closer, peering at her with interest - her face is visible with the visor up, and they have no trouble seeing in the dark.
"So you're a guard then? Pretty dedicated to be wandering out here rather than just hiding behind your walls until the trouble comes to you."
Oh? A bold one, they are. Alright. If it's banter, she can play that game.
A smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth. "Getting up to no good, usually."
Then her brow knits together. She's not so distracted by that train of thought as to miss the other implication in their words. "Have you... never been in a town?"
Something softens in her at the almost childlike curiosity in their eyes as they peer at her. She signs internally, this is probably stupid... She reaches up with both hands and removes her helm.
"Mm. Not so much dedicated as annoyed with the dolt they've lumped me in with tonight." She grins roguishly. "Thought you might be a porcupine. Seemed the preferable sort of prick to deal with."
Carn lets out a delighted little bark of laughter. "Maybe you should've sent him after the porcupine instead. But I can see the thinking. What if it had been something bigger than a porcupine and scarier than me?" They raise an eyebrow.
They pause at the question. "I mean, I've been in a town before. But never at night, and never really long enough to take note of how the sounds change. It just seemed always really noisy to me. Just -" They wave their hands vaguely. It's hard to explain how civilisation feels for them - being surrounded by iron has a sensation they can feel in their teeth.
Something occurs to them, and they grin impishly. "Hey. Do you wanna mess with your doltish colleague?"
"Scarier than you? Hmm.." her words dripping with mock-contemplation as she looks them up and down, pretending to evaluate the threat-level for comparison's sake. A crooked smirk plays on her lips, her tongue curling briefly around a canine. "Dunno, you're pretty stunning as it is." The double-meaning of the word toward 'frightening' is a stretch at best, but she tries for it anyway. "B'sides that, if I'd have stayed at my post you'd have had him to talk to instead of me." she huffs a quiet chuckle.
Dane absently runs the hand not occupied holding her helm through her hair, nodding as she listens. Guess being outta your element can be overwhelming in either direction.
She raises her eyebrows. Maybe a bit of a scare would set the man right. "...What did you have in mind?"
Carn's delight this time is even more palpable. "Oh, she flirts! You're definitely preferable to the rumoured bozo. Yeah, I definitely got the better option." They admire her as she runs a hand through her hair, amused.
At the question, they tilt their head, considering. "Depends how mean ya want to be. Are we just giving him a little jolt, or seeing if we can make him piss his braies?"
The corners of her eyes crinkle as her grin stretches across her face. "I wanna say I got the best of three options, but that's probably not too flattering considering your competition. No offense to the porcupine."
She actually laughs at the question. A warm sound from somewhere deep in her chest. "Ehhh, as long as he's not hurt on my watch. Not sure I could make a great excuse for that seeing as I'm s'posed to be over there with him."
"Pissing his braies it is!" Carn says brightly. "I can chase him through the woods for you a bit if you like - not too far into them. Herd him like a sheepdog. Maybe it'll make him buck up his ideas a bit."
They look around, thoughtful. "If you tell him you've found something and bring him over I can torment him a little bit. Though I suppose you won't be able to watch and enjoy it if I'm chasing him through the trees, will you?"
Dane snorts a laugh at their enthusiasm, shaking her head. Almost fondly.
"Sure, I could tell him to come over here, but I bet he'd expect me to rescue him from you, even if he didn't wonder why I wasn't being chased myself..." Dane chews her lip as she considers.
Carn can pinpoint the moment the idea comes to her by the look in her eyes. "What if we get close enough to the treeline he can hear me shout for help, but I hide before he gets here? Then you can chase him to your heart's content, and I get to scare him again when he mentions it to me later by pretending I don't know what he's talking about. I didn't call for help at all." A conspiratorial smile spreads across her face. "'n fact, I didn't hear anyone else yell either."
Dane meets their gaze, resisting the urge to instead gaze at them. They're an uncanny sort of pretty.
"Course, I still wouldn't get to watch," she tilts her head just slightly. "So, I guess you'd have to tell me about it some other time"
Carn's grin curls wickedly. Are their teeth just a little too sharp? It's hard to tell, in the dim light. "That sounds perfect," they breathe, staring at her admiringly. "You have a brilliant mind, dearest Ser Vuurgast. Wonderful! Then we have a plan. You'll shout for help, and I'll wait to gently terrorise your hapless coworker. It'll be magnificent!"
They beam at her, pleased. "You'll have to tell me how he reacts when you act like nothing's happened, too. I bet it'll be delicious."
Dane chuckles, allowing herself a moment to bask in the compliment. She's often commended for her strength, or her skill with a blade; it's not nearly so often that she's praised for her mind.
She takes a few steps in the direction of the gates as she scouts for a place to quickly hide in after getting the other knight's attention.
A thick snarl of brambles lies not too far off, earning an appreciative nod. This'll do nicely.
"Deal. But y'know, I do usually like to know what to call someone before I agree to see them again." She gives a crooked grin, "For delicious exchanges or otherwise."
"Oh! I forgot!" They smack their forehead lightly. "Carnelian! You can call me Carnelian. I look forward to further delicious exchanges." They grin at her. "Have fun being bozo-bait."
They slip into their own patch of undergrowth, moving through it suspiciously easily. They'lll choose their moment carefully.
Carnelian. It suits them.
She winks, voice ringing out in the night. "There's definitely something out here! I can take 'em, but be on–" she cuts herself off, putting on what she hopes is a convincing air of alarm. "oh FUCK, get out here!"
She hastens to her hiding spot–if she's crashing through the underbrush she hopes he'll assume it's the sounds of a fight–and nestles quickly among the leaves and vines, sufficiently out of sight.
Quiet. Quiet. Heavy footfalls. He's on his way.
The bozo's path into the woods is as loud and obvious to Carnelian's enhanced senses as if he'd had cowbells tied to every limb. Their grin widens, tongue flickering out to wet their lips, and moves into action.
Sir Bozo crashes into the clearing where they'd been, breathing heavily. "What the fuck? Where's-"
He freezes as a sound rumbles out from the undergrowth - a growl, deep and low, the kind of noise which turns guts to liquid. His panicked gaze flickers over the dark leaves and spots, amongst them, a pair of glowing eyes. He makes a strangled sound, turns to run - and behind him something bursts out of the trees to chase.
The woods are alive with movement, as if an entire pack of monsters is chasing him down - thrashing branches and leaves, the crack of branches and wild movement which suggest huge bodies moving through spaces too small for them. The sounds too come from everywhere, snarling growls chasing the hapless prey onwards, deeper into the dark trees, his fear leaving the stink of itself behind like a beacon to follow.
She peers through the brush, trying her best to watch the commotion, but hearing more than seeing in the darkness.
The snarl seems to vibrate in her chest. What in the hells?
Dane has half a mind to abandon her hiding spot; she has no intention of leaving the man to fend for himself against a large predator, but... the noise seems to be coming from where Carnelian slipped off to. Maybe with all their time in the woods they've learned to mimic animal calls? Could be useful.
Then more. The sounds of leaves rustling and branches snapping in all directions–but something's off.
The back of her neck prickles with unease as much at the wrongness of the sound as her inability to pinpoint it.
There are no footfalls.
Something making that much racket would be big. Heavy. The only actual impact she hears on the ground is paired with the metallic clink clink clink of armor.
All at once it clicks. It's an illusion. Son of a bitch, they have magic.
Carn doesn't even need the stink of Bozo's fear to follow him, but it helps. They herd him skillfully along, carefully positioning the movement of trees and bushes to make sure he doesn't veer off too deep into the woods - just deep enough into the trees that the light is gone.
And then, finally, they herd him out again.
Bozo breaks free of the trees bordering the town again and stumbles with the sudden shock of it, jelly-legged - before booking it back towards the gates with a scream. Back in the treeline, Carn drops out of their shapeshift, breathing heavily and grinning. They can't maintain something that size for very long, but sometimes the effect is worth it. They stretch luxuriously, and then turn to make their way back through the trees towards Dane, whistling cheerfully. It's a good day.
They've moved too far off for Dane to see, but the panicked cry still reaches her ears in the night.
Chuckling, she extracts herself from the brambles and stretches, gauntleted hands pressed to her lower back. She moves to lean against the thick trunk of a nearby tree, awaiting Carnelian's return.
When they find her, she's got her arms crossed, shaking her head as if prepared to scold them, but there's no malice behind her eyes—a grin creeps across her face as they draw nearer. She laughs, "One of these days I'll remember a lack of steel doesn't mean a lack of power."
They grin. "Oh, decidedly not. I'm not sure if he literally pissed himself or not, but it was close. A little dribble at minimum." They smirk. "You'll have to tell me what his face looks like when you tell him you weren't there and heard nothing."
Now that the immediate window for mischief has close, they eye her lazily up and down, mimicking her posture against a tree, arms folded. "So, Ser Vuurgast. What now?"
"Good enough for me!" She snorts a laugh "If he's embarrassed enough he won't mention too many details to anyone else. Including how long I've been away from my post."
She holds up a hand as if swearing an oath, but doesn't adjust her relaxed posture. "You have my word, you'll hear every detail."
Dane doesn't squirm under their gaze as some would, just lets them look, watching their face as she waits for eye contact to return. "Mm. Dunno." She smirks, a crooked sort of thing, eyes half-lidded. "What's a pretty thing like you usually do when they find themselves alone with someone in the woods? When you aren't scaring the piss out of 'em, that is."
"Depends if the other person is also a pretty thing," Carn says, with a grin. They stroll forwards to loop their arms lazily around her neck - no attempt to play coy here. "And then I like getting creative. Though if you don't know what you want to do..." They give an exaggerated shrug, pulling away again.
Dane hums appreciatively at the proximity, eyes flicking just briefly to Carnelian's lips as they speak.
They smell of summer. Bright and warm at once. Almost like wassail.
She rolls her eyes at the jest, but grins, voice dipping once again to a low, smoky timbre. "You didn't ask what I wanted, Carnelian. You asked what's next."
"Well then, shall I try again? What do you want, Ser Vuurgast?" Their tongue flickers out to wet their lips, swaying back towards her once again. This time they press themself against her properly, grinning. "I thought perhaps you might not know that, either."
She chuckles, low and warm in her throat.
Her hands move to grip their waist as if on instinct as Carnelian closes the distance, thumbs rubbing slow circles on their hip bones.
"I want what I always want..." she tips her head, her lips just brushing theirs as her volume falls to a murmur, "you wanna see how good you can feel too?"
"Always," they murmur, breath warm against her lips.
They press forward slightly, chasing the kiss - slow at first, then more eagerly, hungry to taste her mouth. There's a simplicity in this which they enjoy; it's just about feeling good. That's simple. That's easy. That's fun.
"Much as I love the armour, you're wearing too much of it," they mumble into her mouth. Thankfully, steel doesn't affect them in the same way as cold iron does. It is still in the way of their hands, though.
She smiles through the kiss, mirroring the shift in intensity–all lips and tongue and teeth. It's good to just feel. To make someone feel.
"Mm– 's that right?" Dane takes the opportunity presented by the separation of their lips to kiss the corner of Carnelian's mouth, his jaw, just below his ear. Behind their back she's pulling at her gauntlet straps, loosening them enough to extract her hands.
With their newfound freedom, her hands run up the lean length of his back. She murmurs "what if i don't wanna stop touching you?"
A teasing nip at his neck—Carn can feel the smirk against their skin as she contradicts herself by continuing on with unbuckling her armor.
They arch approvingly into her touch, a sound rather like a purr escaping them. "Then you should hurry up with the de-armouring so I can touch you too," they demand, squirming at the nip. "Much as I do agree that I am wonderful to touch, and I entirely understand the desire to get distracted by me..."
They're not helping, though, crowding her backwards towards the tree, pressing themself closer. They kiss her again, humming approvingly into her mouth as their hands roam, ready to move in as soon as the armour is out of the way.
She huffs a laugh, breath fanning over the skin of their throat. "Impatient are we?"
Fortunately, she's been doing this for a long time, and without a squire for much of it.
She leans into the kiss, indulgently slow, as deft fingers work to release various clasps and ties.
It's not terribly long before she's down to her arming doublet and breeches, having shed each piece of her armor onto the forest floor in turn.
Her hands slip between the two of them, splayed against his front as they glide upward to his shoulders, pushing him to lean back just slightly so she can see his face when she grins, "Better?"
As soon as she's free from the armour Carn pounces. It's still difficult to feel much through the thick fabric of the arming doublet but they're trying, hauling her against them. They can at the very least feel the warmth of her body now - the rough shape of her as a full, living body.
"Better," they agree, grinning at her as she pushes him back. "My layers are rather less layered than yours." A silk shirt and fine cotton trousers, the silk a deep saffron. It leaves very little to the imagination, at least when the luxury of touch is involved. "Clearly you're a wonderful gift, that you need so much unwrapping."
She barks a laugh. "Or a pain in the ass, that it should take so long."
Their lips meet again, and she snakes one hand around to the middle of their back, the whisper-thin silk of his shirt smooth beneath her fingertips.
Her other hand comes to rest on the side of their neck, thumb just brushing the corner of their jaw as she pulls back to meet their gaze.
A charged moment of silence as she seems to search his eyes... then a wicked grin tugs at her lips.
In one fluid motion, she steps across him, easily pivoting the both of them around to cage him in, his back against the tree trunk this time, her thigh slotting between his legs.
"I do tend to agree with you though," her lips brush the shell of their ear—voice dark with want, "This is much better." Reluctantly, she pulls away just enough to begin undoing the ties down the front of her doublet.
They let out a surprised huff of air as their back smacks into the tree, but grin lasciviously. They begin to grind themself slowly against her thigh as they watch her undress. "Lucky me, front row seats to the strip show," they say with a filthy grin.
They're not exactly helping, reaching around to grab twin handfuls of her ass through her breeches, kneading the muscles and using the grip to pull her harder into them. "Mmm... damn. Better than front row seats..."
A small sound leaves Dane's lips at the contact. At the heat of his hands—stronger than she'd anticipated.
Her eyes are roving over Carnelian as she shucks the arming doublet. "Fucking hells," she curses under her breath, frustrated at the need to tug yet another layer, in the form of a thin shirt, over her head.
That out of the way, there's only a wide band of linen left around her breasts, a narrow ribbon wound through eyelets on one side to keep it in place.
Her hands alight on his waist, not to aid or to hinder, just to appreciate the sinuous roll of their hips. Lips find his neck again, slow and warm, drifting toward his collarbone. She hooks two fingers under the neckline of his shirt and tugs slightly. "You're turn gorgeous," she chuckles against their skin, "you gotta let go of my ass anyway if you want the breeches off."
"But I don't wanna let go of your ass," they gripe, not entirely serious. They do let go though, yanking off the silk shirt and dropping it carelessly to the ground. Bared like this, they're a confection of a creature - nipples pierced with gold, a metallic lustre decorating their skin. They grin at her, sliding their hands up her stomach. "Nice tattoos. 'Bad company'? Good to be forewarned."
She huffs a laugh, taking the moment they're removing their shirt to extract herself from between his thighs and rid herself of her breeches.
A pleasant, anticipatory shiver zips through her, skin prickling with gooseflesh at their touch. Swiftly she's back upon him, hands wandering the newly exposed skin. A thumb glides firmly, but not roughly, over one pierced nipple. "Mm.. how 'bout for now I let you be the judge of that?"
They bite their lip, grinning lazily as they press into her touch. "Mm. I'm a very good judge of whether or not someone's bad company, it's true."
They unlace their own trousers, having to wriggle a little to get out of the tightly tailored fabric - not enormously dignified, but sacrifices must be made in order to display their ass at its best advantage.
"Yea?" She rasps while impatient hands roam up his thighs, thumbs kneading into the soft crease between leg and pelvis.
She had no room to tease for any awkwardness in disrobing for as long as she just spent scattering bits of armor on the ground.
Teeth skate against their throat, hot breath fanning over their jaw. "How're you judging me for the moment then?"
They actually moan a little at the touch of teeth, tilting their head to give her better access. "Delicious company," they mumble. "Much recommended." They kick off the trousers impatiently and immediately grab for her ass again, kneading the muscles there. "Fuck, you feel good. All this muscle, damn..."
Dane smiles sinfully against their skin at the sound, tucking the information into her metaphorical back pocket.
Preening under the praise, she nips at his collarbone, thumbs still working firm circles at his hips. "Mn. You're so- fuck, I wanna take you apart."
She's lost in it now, practically vibrating at the feel, the scent, the taste of it all— the desire to ruin them both.
They laugh breathlessly. "Do it," they challenge, grinning. "Bet you can't."
Despite the words, they press closer to her, breath heavy and shaky. They're hard enough by now that it's making them feel a little unsteady. "Uh." Wait, does she want them to have a cock? Maybe they should have checked. But now it feels like it would be an awkward time to introduce that particular question...
She thrills at the challenge, "Oh?" Her voice low, dangerous. "You don't think so?"
Her knees hit the ground so hard Carnelian has to imagine it hurt, but she barely notices. She considers for an amused moment he might not have expected this of her.
Warm hands find his hips again, pressing him firmly against the tree at his back as a silent stay, and, slowly—frustratingly slowly; she's fighting to stay focused in spite of the heat of want between her legs— she's mouthing up his thighs.
Just a handsbreadth shy of where she's sure they'd really like her mouth to be, she laves her tongue over the thin skin of his inner thigh, looks up at them through her eyelashes, and bites.
"Gnhh-!"
They so nearly lose it right there and then, hips jerking involuntarily upwards. They press themselves back against the tree, panting as they try to pull themselves back under control. "F-fuck," they manage dazedly. "Do that - do that again." They reach down to grip the base of their cock hard, trying to keep themself under control.
Dane chuckles darky, pulling back just enough to look Carnelian in the eye, and– oh. He was a sight; sinful with those oddly fiery eyes blown black with desire.
She makes strangled sort of sound, acutely aware of her own arousal, but fuck she needed to pull that noise out of him again.
She presses forward, mouthing at the thin skin just to the right of his cock, feeling the heat of his skin on her cheek as her nose brushes his fingertips. "If I do," her voice comes out hoarse; gods but she must look just as affected, "you still gonna have it in you to fuck me after?"
She grazes her teeth—barely there— against the twin spot of his other thigh as she waits for a reply.
"Hhhahh- fuck, I'm not even sure - but I'll work it out," they pant. "... real risk of me just blowing inside you as soon as I put it in, and that's - not cool, ffuck..."
They bury their free hand in her hair - not trying to control her movements, just holding on. "Very - unf-fair of you, by the way! Making me look like some - quickshot... not my fault you fucking - gods..."
They're barely managing to keep up the banter, cock drooling over their hand despite their best efforts. It twitches hard at the graze of her teeth and they moan hoarsely, smacking their head back against the trunk of the tree behind them.
"Fuck, look at you– mm, why is that kinda hot?" She's not sure if she said that last bit out loud or not. Her eyes flutter and a low groan escapes her lips at the tug of his hand in her hair.
She squeezes her eyes shut for a second, willing herself to stay lucid. "Do I win the bet then?"
Without waiting for a response, she does sink her teeth into the flesh of his thigh, punctuating with an Indulgent, slow suck at the skin there.
They lose it.
If the bite hadn't been enough to send them over the edge, what followed would have been. They come with a strangled moan, inadvertently pressing Dane's head closer, fingers tangled in her hair. His grip on his cock does nothing whatsoever to delay the inevitable - all it does, thanks to the way he's gripping it, is direct the mess over his own abdomen rather than over Dane.
They slump back against the tree, dazed and dripping. "Fuck." Their voice is shaky and slightly awed as they stare down at her.
Dane smiles through the moan that leaves her as Carnelian spills over, fist tight in her hair.
She's doesn't pull back for a second. Nearly delirious with desire, anything she can do to keep the energy, the tension, she's going for it.
She shifts her weight to get her feet beneath her, planting wet open-mouthed kisses from where she began at his thigh, across his abdomen, laving her tongue over a nipple. When she's fully upright again, on admittedly shakey legs, she presses fully against them, lips brushing their ear.
"You– hhm– you wanna answer my question, gorgeous?"
He grabs at her as she makes her way upright, greedy for more touch, more anything - his cock is making a valiant attempt at recovering, his hips still jerking at each new shred of sensation.
"You win," they pant, clutching at her hips. "Fuck. There's no way I could argue otherwise. You win." They drag her into a sloppy, breathless kiss, careless of the mess they're making as they grind themself against her.
"Need to be inside you," they manage as they pull back for a second, before chasing her mouth again.
She leans into their touch, eager for anything he'll give her as long as its more.
Panting into the kiss, she breathes "Mn- so don't–hhah.. don't agrue". Her hands leave his skin, but she doesn't move from his lips. She's unlacing her underthings, letting them fall unceremoniously to her feet. "Can't believe I still– nnh– have these on.
She presses against them again, skin to skin, blissfully bare. "Fuck okay– we need to be horizontal like now.
Carnelian pulls away, looking around - nowhere close looks suitable. With a grumble he stomps his foot on the ground, his magic racing outwards. Thick, green moss blooms a carpet across a nearby patch of ground, thick enough to act as a reasonable cushion for activities. They drag Dane closer, grinning, and flop down on the moss, looking up at her. "How's this?"
Dane huffs out a breath as they land, caging him in with hands on either side of his head. "Again, better." She grins down at them, dark hair falling to frame her face.
She shifts to straddle him, sitting up straight, a slight arch in her back. With their cock trapped between their lower abdomen and the wet heat of her cunt, she experimentally rolls her hips. Once. Twice. An absolutely sinful moan pours from her at the friction.
She might have intended to tease him further, but she's too impatient to draw this out much more. She rises up on her knees enough to reach a hand between her thighs–slick with arousal–and lines him up, hissing at the stretch.
"H-holyshit... s'good," she bites her lip, head tipped back, forcing herself to sink down slowly. "You feel– ngh~"
He groans, trying to resist the urge to just thrust upwards into the hot clasp of her cunt. "Fuck, you're so wet-" He grips her hips, making himself stick to the torturously slow speed she's setting. Once he's all the way in he grinds against her for a moment, panting, before pulling back out again. He sinks back in with a moan. "Fuck... you're going to make me lose my mind..."
Dane only nods in agreement, lips parted, shuddering at the grind of their hips when she hits home.
Adjusted to their size, she sets a steady pace, not so agonizingly slow as before, but indulgent, letting herself savor the drag with every rock of her hips.
A smirk tugs at her lips watching him fight to follow her lead as far as pacing. Bet I can make him lose that fight, too.
"Mm. Good, hhah–" a moan rips from her as she shifts to lean forward to skate both thumbs over his nipples. "Bet you're– ngh, even prettier when you lose control."
"You're - doing this on fucking - purpose," they pant, hips jerking. "Fuck."
But that had sounded like a challenge.
Gripping her hips, they brace themself, beginning to fuck upwards into her with more intent now, no longer trying to match her pace. The filthy wet slap of flesh on flesh is loud amidst the quiet trees, and they love it - nothing courtly or civilised about any of this. It's perfect.
"Make that sound again," they pant, driving harder into her. "Moan for me. Let's hear you."
"Ah– s'what ‐ if I am?"
Dane might've laughed at the ease of it—of getting her way—but holy shit, fuck yes, was the hot, blunt slide of surrender beyond blissful.
She keens, blunt fingernails carving crescent moons into their shoulders.
"Yessss... gods you're so–" an absolutely undignified and borderline desperate sound wrenches from somewhere deep in her chest. "fFUCK 'm close–"
The bite of her fingernails tears a low sound from them, and they buck harder up into her. "Yes - do it-" They reach to circle her clit with their thumb, watching her face greedily. "Fall apart for me. Your turn, mutt, come for me."
They're not far off either, if they're honest. They would absolutely not have lasted without their first climax.
It hits her all at once; no preamble, all devastating impact. "Ohgods, FUCK–" a filthy moan rings through the trees, but the roar in her ears is all white noise, release wracking through her.
She shakes with it, rocking back to meet each forceful thrust of their hips even as she flutters around their length.
A dazed, but somehow still shit-eating grin plasters itself on her face as her eyes focus again, meeting his. "You're– mnh - kinda hot - y'know that?" she pants, still riding out the aftershocks of pleasure.
The shock of her release had tipped them over too, groaning as their cock pulsed inside her. They stare up at her and her shit-eating grin with dazed bemusement, panting and oversensitive as she continues to ride them. "I should fucking hope so!" they manage. "F- agh-" They twitch, grinding their softening cock deeper into her. Despite the sensitivity they're not yet ready to be done either.
This time she does laugh, bright and breathless with exertion; a thin sheen of sweat glazing her skin.
She can't remember the last time she had chemistry like this. Maybe ever.
Eventually though, they did have to part. She shifts, gasping with sensitivity as their softening cock slips free, their combined mess drooling from her. But she doesn't go far; just sits astride their thighs, thumbs finding their place again at his hipbones as her eyes rove lazily over their form, humming approvingly.
They don't rush her, hands drifting idly up to her ribs as they look up at her, sated and lazy.
"Well," they say after a moment, with a grin. "That was fun, huh? A better evening than you'd've spent with Sir Bozo?"
She leans into their touch; skin singing with sensitivity but basking in it rather than shying away. Like holding onto the feeling as she comes back to herself fully.
Nodding, eyes closed, she sighs contentedly. "Mn, infinitely so." She meets his gaze again, a certain spark of intensity in her eyes though she's grinning dazedly. "We will most definitely be doing that again. Fuck."
They laugh. "Good, I'm glad to hear it." With a bit of a groan he sits up without dislodging her, looping his arms loosely around her waist. "... I'm guessing you probably need to be reporting in, though?"
Earthy scents of oak and dark loam hang thick in the midnight air. The Dusk Watch is a shift that only gets more dull as it goes on—people shuttering their windows before bed mirroring the birds roosting for the night—until all the world is hushed and it's the sentry's duty to resist the gentle lull toward complacency. There are good reasons they're posted in twos. Sir Dead-Weight over there must be half a dozen of them.
For the third time this evening, the absolute lout of a man Dane was paired with leans toward her, brandishing a pair of dice. "All I'm sayin's we could pass the time with a game o' hazard. 's no' my fault if yer afraid to lo–"
She holds up a hand to cut him off, scanning the nearby woods. "Shut the fuck up, will you?" She's sure she heard something; a rustling in the brambles, just out of view. "Probably just a wild animal, but a fight with a damn porcupine beats standing here with you. Mind your post."
She doesn't wait for a reply before stalking forward on light feet, one hand drifting toward the falchion at her hip as she breeches the treeline.
@fae-prince-carnelian
Carnelian is up to mischief. Carnelian is, admittedly, always up to mischief.
Today though, it's harmless. They'd taken a wander through the woods, slightly grumpy, after their little encounter with Sierra, Princess Margaret and the wizard; it didn't feel as everyone had been entirely enchanted by them and that was, obviously, awful. But they were back out in the woods now - their realm - and so that was all fine.
Currently they were up a tree, dangling upside down with knees hooked over the branch above them as they picked idly at a pinecone. They paused, hearing something crashing through undergrowth nearby - big and on the civilisation side. Probably a person. They dropped down and went to investigate, curious.
Oh! Person.
They slink through the brambles, curious; the plants part for them to allow them through.
Dane moves more quietly than most would through the groundcover, but with brambles this thick it's still louder than she'd like.
She pauses, scanning for signs of anything amiss. If there was someone out here, they'd better have a good reason.
Not the best route for a theif to take by far. Too difficult to come back the way they came with arms full of spoils. Could always be a lookout for another sort of crime, though.
There's movement up ahead in the underbrush. No, scratch that, the brush itself is moving. She squints through the murky darkness. There is someone there.
"Speak your name," she rasps, hand ready at the grip of her blade. "I don't like surprises."
In the darkness, Carn grins, muscles bunching slightly. They want to frighten this little - well, not so little - human. They want to see what she does when surprised. They pace smoothly to the side, circling her as they consider.
But she already looks jumpy, and she's holding a sword.
"Oh, I don't share my name with just anyone," they say regardless. "But since you ask... may I have yours?"
And she does startle, just slightly; everything going tense for just a breath before she turns evenly in the direction of the voice.
Hard to make out any detail in the dark. She lifts her visor to give herself a better view of the stranger.
Nothing about them seems to speak of criminal intent - they're not dressed to conceal. Her shoulders drop, relaxing a bit as her eyes flick over his form in search of a weapon and finding none. Her hand doesn't stray from the grip of her own weapon, however. There is something peculiar about this one, she just can't quite place it.
She swallows, and her voice comes out clear; convincingly steady. "It's Vuurgast." Her brow furrows. She's the one who's asking the questions here. "You make a habit of gadding about in the woods in the middle of the night?" She gestures with her right hand, indicating the falchion held loosely in its grasp. "I could have swung at you instead of asking questions."
Carnelian grins. Such a sweetly trusting little human. "Vuurgast." They savour the name for a second, the taste of it on their tongue - a little sweet, a little bitter, something almost earthy about it. Delicious. Theirs, now, not that she knows.
They leave it be. They hold the name within them, now - but it doesn't mean they have to do anything with it, yet.
"I do, actually. I quite like it out here," they answer, motioning around the woods at large. "You seem a little nervous, considering you're also gadding about in the woods in the middle of the night. You seem a bit less comfortable with the idea than I am. And you could have swung at me, but there's quite a lot of plants in the way, right? I bet those aren't good for a blade. The woods is a bad place for a swordfight."
Dane narrows her eyes a touch, unsure if she likes the tone in which her name was spoken back to her.
She tilts her head just slightly, listening not a bit skeptically to their sorely lacking explanation as to their purpose in the forest.
Gesturing to herself—armored and armed, having clearly come from the direction of the Gates—she deadpans, "It is. Kind of my job to be on alert." She shifts her weight, glancing over their shoulder at the trees behind. "Used to spend a lot of time out after dark actually, just never could get used to the quiet of the woods at night. In town if it's this quiet, someone's up to something." Her voice deepens to an almost smoky timbre as she completes the thought. It seems she's still not entirely convinced someone isn't.
Choosing to put that aside for the moment, she pinches the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, sighing, "Woods wouldn't be my first pick for a place to fight, no, but I have a feeling if you were itching to start one," she quirks an eyebrow, "You'd have done it by now, seeing as you've got me here. Alone."
"Maybe it's not a fight I'm itching for," Carnelian says, with a teasing grin. But she's caught their attention now, and they tilt their head, curious. "So towns are noisy, then? It's only suspicious when it's quiet? I mean, that does sort of go for the woods, too. If you can't hear nature something's wrong. What were you doing out after dark, when you used to spend a lot of time out here?"
They wander closer, peering at her with interest - her face is visible with the visor up, and they have no trouble seeing in the dark.
"So you're a guard then? Pretty dedicated to be wandering out here rather than just hiding behind your walls until the trouble comes to you."
Oh? A bold one, they are. Alright. If it's banter, she can play that game.
A smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth. "Getting up to no good, usually."
Then her brow knits together. She's not so distracted by that train of thought as to miss the other implication in their words. "Have you... never been in a town?"
Something softens in her at the almost childlike curiosity in their eyes as they peer at her. She signs internally, this is probably stupid... She reaches up with both hands and removes her helm.
"Mm. Not so much dedicated as annoyed with the dolt they've lumped me in with tonight." She grins roguishly. "Thought you might be a porcupine. Seemed the preferable sort of prick to deal with."
Carn lets out a delighted little bark of laughter. "Maybe you should've sent him after the porcupine instead. But I can see the thinking. What if it had been something bigger than a porcupine and scarier than me?" They raise an eyebrow.
They pause at the question. "I mean, I've been in a town before. But never at night, and never really long enough to take note of how the sounds change. It just seemed always really noisy to me. Just -" They wave their hands vaguely. It's hard to explain how civilisation feels for them - being surrounded by iron has a sensation they can feel in their teeth.
Something occurs to them, and they grin impishly. "Hey. Do you wanna mess with your doltish colleague?"
"Scarier than you? Hmm.." her words dripping with mock-contemplation as she looks them up and down, pretending to evaluate the threat-level for comparison's sake. A crooked smirk plays on her lips, her tongue curling briefly around a canine. "Dunno, you're pretty stunning as it is." The double-meaning of the word toward 'frightening' is a stretch at best, but she tries for it anyway. "B'sides that, if I'd have stayed at my post you'd have had him to talk to instead of me." she huffs a quiet chuckle.
Dane absently runs the hand not occupied holding her helm through her hair, nodding as she listens. Guess being outta your element can be overwhelming in either direction.
She raises her eyebrows. Maybe a bit of a scare would set the man right. "...What did you have in mind?"
Carn's delight this time is even more palpable. "Oh, she flirts! You're definitely preferable to the rumoured bozo. Yeah, I definitely got the better option." They admire her as she runs a hand through her hair, amused.
At the question, they tilt their head, considering. "Depends how mean ya want to be. Are we just giving him a little jolt, or seeing if we can make him piss his braies?"
The corners of her eyes crinkle as her grin stretches across her face. "I wanna say I got the best of three options, but that's probably not too flattering considering your competition. No offense to the porcupine."
She actually laughs at the question. A warm sound from somewhere deep in her chest. "Ehhh, as long as he's not hurt on my watch. Not sure I could make a great excuse for that seeing as I'm s'posed to be over there with him."
"Pissing his braies it is!" Carn says brightly. "I can chase him through the woods for you a bit if you like - not too far into them. Herd him like a sheepdog. Maybe it'll make him buck up his ideas a bit."
They look around, thoughtful. "If you tell him you've found something and bring him over I can torment him a little bit. Though I suppose you won't be able to watch and enjoy it if I'm chasing him through the trees, will you?"
Dane snorts a laugh at their enthusiasm, shaking her head. Almost fondly.
"Sure, I could tell him to come over here, but I bet he'd expect me to rescue him from you, even if he didn't wonder why I wasn't being chased myself..." Dane chews her lip as she considers.
Carn can pinpoint the moment the idea comes to her by the look in her eyes. "What if we get close enough to the treeline he can hear me shout for help, but I hide before he gets here? Then you can chase him to your heart's content, and I get to scare him again when he mentions it to me later by pretending I don't know what he's talking about. I didn't call for help at all." A conspiratorial smile spreads across her face. "'n fact, I didn't hear anyone else yell either."
Dane meets their gaze, resisting the urge to instead gaze at them. They're an uncanny sort of pretty.
"Course, I still wouldn't get to watch," she tilts her head just slightly. "So, I guess you'd have to tell me about it some other time"
Carn's grin curls wickedly. Are their teeth just a little too sharp? It's hard to tell, in the dim light. "That sounds perfect," they breathe, staring at her admiringly. "You have a brilliant mind, dearest Ser Vuurgast. Wonderful! Then we have a plan. You'll shout for help, and I'll wait to gently terrorise your hapless coworker. It'll be magnificent!"
They beam at her, pleased. "You'll have to tell me how he reacts when you act like nothing's happened, too. I bet it'll be delicious."
Dane chuckles, allowing herself a moment to bask in the compliment. She's often commended for her strength, or her skill with a blade; it's not nearly so often that she's praised for her mind.
She takes a few steps in the direction of the gates as she scouts for a place to quickly hide in after getting the other knight's attention.
A thick snarl of brambles lies not too far off, earning an appreciative nod. This'll do nicely.
"Deal. But y'know, I do usually like to know what to call someone before I agree to see them again." She gives a crooked grin, "For delicious exchanges or otherwise."
"Oh! I forgot!" They smack their forehead lightly. "Carnelian! You can call me Carnelian. I look forward to further delicious exchanges." They grin at her. "Have fun being bozo-bait."
They slip into their own patch of undergrowth, moving through it suspiciously easily. They'lll choose their moment carefully.
Carnelian. It suits them.
She winks, voice ringing out in the night. "There's definitely something out here! I can take 'em, but be on–" she cuts herself off, putting on what she hopes is a convincing air of alarm. "oh FUCK, get out here!"
She hastens to her hiding spot–if she's crashing through the underbrush she hopes he'll assume it's the sounds of a fight–and nestles quickly among the leaves and vines, sufficiently out of sight.
Quiet. Quiet. Heavy footfalls. He's on his way.
The bozo's path into the woods is as loud and obvious to Carnelian's enhanced senses as if he'd had cowbells tied to every limb. Their grin widens, tongue flickering out to wet their lips, and moves into action.
Sir Bozo crashes into the clearing where they'd been, breathing heavily. "What the fuck? Where's-"
He freezes as a sound rumbles out from the undergrowth - a growl, deep and low, the kind of noise which turns guts to liquid. His panicked gaze flickers over the dark leaves and spots, amongst them, a pair of glowing eyes. He makes a strangled sound, turns to run - and behind him something bursts out of the trees to chase.
The woods are alive with movement, as if an entire pack of monsters is chasing him down - thrashing branches and leaves, the crack of branches and wild movement which suggest huge bodies moving through spaces too small for them. The sounds too come from everywhere, snarling growls chasing the hapless prey onwards, deeper into the dark trees, his fear leaving the stink of itself behind like a beacon to follow.
She peers through the brush, trying her best to watch the commotion, but hearing more than seeing in the darkness.
The snarl seems to vibrate in her chest. What in the hells?
Dane has half a mind to abandon her hiding spot; she has no intention of leaving the man to fend for himself against a large predator, but... the noise seems to be coming from where Carnelian slipped off to. Maybe with all their time in the woods they've learned to mimic animal calls? Could be useful.
Then more. The sounds of leaves rustling and branches snapping in all directions–but something's off.
The back of her neck prickles with unease as much at the wrongness of the sound as her inability to pinpoint it.
There are no footfalls.
Something making that much racket would be big. Heavy. The only actual impact she hears on the ground is paired with the metallic clink clink clink of armor.
All at once it clicks. It's an illusion. Son of a bitch, they have magic.
Carn doesn't even need the stink of Bozo's fear to follow him, but it helps. They herd him skillfully along, carefully positioning the movement of trees and bushes to make sure he doesn't veer off too deep into the woods - just deep enough into the trees that the light is gone.
And then, finally, they herd him out again.
Bozo breaks free of the trees bordering the town again and stumbles with the sudden shock of it, jelly-legged - before booking it back towards the gates with a scream. Back in the treeline, Carn drops out of their shapeshift, breathing heavily and grinning. They can't maintain something that size for very long, but sometimes the effect is worth it. They stretch luxuriously, and then turn to make their way back through the trees towards Dane, whistling cheerfully. It's a good day.
They've moved too far off for Dane to see, but the panicked cry still reaches her ears in the night.
Chuckling, she extracts herself from the brambles and stretches, gauntleted hands pressed to her lower back. She moves to lean against the thick trunk of a nearby tree, awaiting Carnelian's return.
When they find her, she's got her arms crossed, shaking her head as if prepared to scold them, but there's no malice behind her eyes—a grin creeps across her face as they draw nearer. She laughs, "One of these days I'll remember a lack of steel doesn't mean a lack of power."
They grin. "Oh, decidedly not. I'm not sure if he literally pissed himself or not, but it was close. A little dribble at minimum." They smirk. "You'll have to tell me what his face looks like when you tell him you weren't there and heard nothing."
Now that the immediate window for mischief has close, they eye her lazily up and down, mimicking her posture against a tree, arms folded. "So, Ser Vuurgast. What now?"
"Good enough for me!" She snorts a laugh "If he's embarrassed enough he won't mention too many details to anyone else. Including how long I've been away from my post."
She holds up a hand as if swearing an oath, but doesn't adjust her relaxed posture. "You have my word, you'll hear every detail."
Dane doesn't squirm under their gaze as some would, just lets them look, watching their face as she waits for eye contact to return. "Mm. Dunno." She smirks, a crooked sort of thing, eyes half-lidded. "What's a pretty thing like you usually do when they find themselves alone with someone in the woods? When you aren't scaring the piss out of 'em, that is."
"Depends if the other person is also a pretty thing," Carn says, with a grin. They stroll forwards to loop their arms lazily around her neck - no attempt to play coy here. "And then I like getting creative. Though if you don't know what you want to do..." They give an exaggerated shrug, pulling away again.
Dane hums appreciatively at the proximity, eyes flicking just briefly to Carnelian's lips as they speak.
They smell of summer. Bright and warm at once. Almost like wassail.
She rolls her eyes at the jest, but grins, voice dipping once again to a low, smoky timbre. "You didn't ask what I wanted, Carnelian. You asked what's next."
"Well then, shall I try again? What do you want, Ser Vuurgast?" Their tongue flickers out to wet their lips, swaying back towards her once again. This time they press themself against her properly, grinning. "I thought perhaps you might not know that, either."
She chuckles, low and warm in her throat.
Her hands move to grip their waist as if on instinct as Carnelian closes the distance, thumbs rubbing slow circles on their hip bones.
"I want what I always want..." she tips her head, her lips just brushing theirs as her volume falls to a murmur, "you wanna see how good you can feel too?"
"Always," they murmur, breath warm against her lips.
They press forward slightly, chasing the kiss - slow at first, then more eagerly, hungry to taste her mouth. There's a simplicity in this which they enjoy; it's just about feeling good. That's simple. That's easy. That's fun.
"Much as I love the armour, you're wearing too much of it," they mumble into her mouth. Thankfully, steel doesn't affect them in the same way as cold iron does. It is still in the way of their hands, though.
She smiles through the kiss, mirroring the shift in intensity–all lips and tongue and teeth. It's good to just feel. To make someone feel.
"Mm– 's that right?" Dane takes the opportunity presented by the separation of their lips to kiss the corner of Carnelian's mouth, his jaw, just below his ear. Behind their back she's pulling at her gauntlet straps, loosening them enough to extract her hands.
With their newfound freedom, her hands run up the lean length of his back. She murmurs "what if i don't wanna stop touching you?"
A teasing nip at his neck—Carn can feel the smirk against their skin as she contradicts herself by continuing on with unbuckling her armor.
They arch approvingly into her touch, a sound rather like a purr escaping them. "Then you should hurry up with the de-armouring so I can touch you too," they demand, squirming at the nip. "Much as I do agree that I am wonderful to touch, and I entirely understand the desire to get distracted by me..."
They're not helping, though, crowding her backwards towards the tree, pressing themself closer. They kiss her again, humming approvingly into her mouth as their hands roam, ready to move in as soon as the armour is out of the way.
She huffs a laugh, breath fanning over the skin of their throat. "Impatient are we?"
Fortunately, she's been doing this for a long time, and without a squire for much of it.
She leans into the kiss, indulgently slow, as deft fingers work to release various clasps and ties.
It's not terribly long before she's down to her arming doublet and breeches, having shed each piece of her armor onto the forest floor in turn.
Her hands slip between the two of them, splayed against his front as they glide upward to his shoulders, pushing him to lean back just slightly so she can see his face when she grins, "Better?"
As soon as she's free from the armour Carn pounces. It's still difficult to feel much through the thick fabric of the arming doublet but they're trying, hauling her against them. They can at the very least feel the warmth of her body now - the rough shape of her as a full, living body.
"Better," they agree, grinning at her as she pushes him back. "My layers are rather less layered than yours." A silk shirt and fine cotton trousers, the silk a deep saffron. It leaves very little to the imagination, at least when the luxury of touch is involved. "Clearly you're a wonderful gift, that you need so much unwrapping."
She barks a laugh. "Or a pain in the ass, that it should take so long."
Their lips meet again, and she snakes one hand around to the middle of their back, the whisper-thin silk of his shirt smooth beneath her fingertips.
Her other hand comes to rest on the side of their neck, thumb just brushing the corner of their jaw as she pulls back to meet their gaze.
A charged moment of silence as she seems to search his eyes... then a wicked grin tugs at her lips.
In one fluid motion, she steps across him, easily pivoting the both of them around to cage him in, his back against the tree trunk this time, her thigh slotting between his legs.
"I do tend to agree with you though," her lips brush the shell of their ear—voice dark with want, "This is much better." Reluctantly, she pulls away just enough to begin undoing the ties down the front of her doublet.
They let out a surprised huff of air as their back smacks into the tree, but grin lasciviously. They begin to grind themself slowly against her thigh as they watch her undress. "Lucky me, front row seats to the strip show," they say with a filthy grin.
They're not exactly helping, reaching around to grab twin handfuls of her ass through her breeches, kneading the muscles and using the grip to pull her harder into them. "Mmm... damn. Better than front row seats..."
A small sound leaves Dane's lips at the contact. At the heat of his hands—stronger than she'd anticipated.
Her eyes are roving over Carnelian as she shucks the arming doublet. "Fucking hells," she curses under her breath, frustrated at the need to tug yet another layer, in the form of a thin shirt, over her head.
That out of the way, there's only a wide band of linen left around her breasts, a narrow ribbon wound through eyelets on one side to keep it in place.
Her hands alight on his waist, not to aid or to hinder, just to appreciate the sinuous roll of their hips. Lips find his neck again, slow and warm, drifting toward his collarbone. She hooks two fingers under the neckline of his shirt and tugs slightly. "You're turn gorgeous," she chuckles against their skin, "you gotta let go of my ass anyway if you want the breeches off."
"But I don't wanna let go of your ass," they gripe, not entirely serious. They do let go though, yanking off the silk shirt and dropping it carelessly to the ground. Bared like this, they're a confection of a creature - nipples pierced with gold, a metallic lustre decorating their skin. They grin at her, sliding their hands up her stomach. "Nice tattoos. 'Bad company'? Good to be forewarned."
She huffs a laugh, taking the moment they're removing their shirt to extract herself from between his thighs and rid herself of her breeches.
A pleasant, anticipatory shiver zips through her, skin prickling with gooseflesh at their touch. Swiftly she's back upon him, hands wandering the newly exposed skin. A thumb glides firmly, but not roughly, over one pierced nipple. "Mm.. how 'bout for now I let you be the judge of that?"
They bite their lip, grinning lazily as they press into her touch. "Mm. I'm a very good judge of whether or not someone's bad company, it's true."
They unlace their own trousers, having to wriggle a little to get out of the tightly tailored fabric - not enormously dignified, but sacrifices must be made in order to display their ass at its best advantage.
"Yea?" She rasps while impatient hands roam up his thighs, thumbs kneading into the soft crease between leg and pelvis.
She had no room to tease for any awkwardness in disrobing for as long as she just spent scattering bits of armor on the ground.
Teeth skate against their throat, hot breath fanning over their jaw. "How're you judging me for the moment then?"
They actually moan a little at the touch of teeth, tilting their head to give her better access. "Delicious company," they mumble. "Much recommended." They kick off the trousers impatiently and immediately grab for her ass again, kneading the muscles there. "Fuck, you feel good. All this muscle, damn..."
Dane smiles sinfully against their skin at the sound, tucking the information into her metaphorical back pocket.
Preening under the praise, she nips at his collarbone, thumbs still working firm circles at his hips. "Mn. You're so- fuck, I wanna take you apart."
She's lost in it now, practically vibrating at the feel, the scent, the taste of it all— the desire to ruin them both.
They laugh breathlessly. "Do it," they challenge, grinning. "Bet you can't."
Despite the words, they press closer to her, breath heavy and shaky. They're hard enough by now that it's making them feel a little unsteady. "Uh." Wait, does she want them to have a cock? Maybe they should have checked. But now it feels like it would be an awkward time to introduce that particular question...
She thrills at the challenge, "Oh?" Her voice low, dangerous. "You don't think so?"
Her knees hit the ground so hard Carnelian has to imagine it hurt, but she barely notices. She considers for an amused moment he might not have expected this of her.
Warm hands find his hips again, pressing him firmly against the tree at his back as a silent stay, and, slowly—frustratingly slowly; she's fighting to stay focused in spite of the heat of want between her legs— she's mouthing up his thighs.
Just a handsbreadth shy of where she's sure they'd really like her mouth to be, she laves her tongue over the thin skin of his inner thigh, looks up at them through her eyelashes, and bites.
"Gnhh-!"
They so nearly lose it right there and then, hips jerking involuntarily upwards. They press themselves back against the tree, panting as they try to pull themselves back under control. "F-fuck," they manage dazedly. "Do that - do that again." They reach down to grip the base of their cock hard, trying to keep themself under control.
Dane chuckles darky, pulling back just enough to look Carnelian in the eye, and– oh. He was a sight; sinful with those oddly fiery eyes blown black with desire.
She makes strangled sort of sound, acutely aware of her own arousal, but fuck she needed to pull that noise out of him again.
She presses forward, mouthing at the thin skin just to the right of his cock, feeling the heat of his skin on her cheek as her nose brushes his fingertips. "If I do," her voice comes out hoarse; gods but she must look just as affected, "you still gonna have it in you to fuck me after?"
She grazes her teeth—barely there— against the twin spot of his other thigh as she waits for a reply.
"Hhhahh- fuck, I'm not even sure - but I'll work it out," they pant. "... real risk of me just blowing inside you as soon as I put it in, and that's - not cool, ffuck..."
They bury their free hand in her hair - not trying to control her movements, just holding on. "Very - unf-fair of you, by the way! Making me look like some - quickshot... not my fault you fucking - gods..."
They're barely managing to keep up the banter, cock drooling over their hand despite their best efforts. It twitches hard at the graze of her teeth and they moan hoarsely, smacking their head back against the trunk of the tree behind them.
"Fuck, look at you– mm, why is that kinda hot?" She's not sure if she said that last bit out loud or not. Her eyes flutter and a low groan escapes her lips at the tug of his hand in her hair.
She squeezes her eyes shut for a second, willing herself to stay lucid. "Do I win the bet then?"
Without waiting for a response, she does sink her teeth into the flesh of his thigh, punctuating with an Indulgent, slow suck at the skin there.
They lose it.
If the bite hadn't been enough to send them over the edge, what followed would have been. They come with a strangled moan, inadvertently pressing Dane's head closer, fingers tangled in her hair. His grip on his cock does nothing whatsoever to delay the inevitable - all it does, thanks to the way he's gripping it, is direct the mess over his own abdomen rather than over Dane.
They slump back against the tree, dazed and dripping. "Fuck." Their voice is shaky and slightly awed as they stare down at her.
Dane smiles through the moan that leaves her as Carnelian spills over, fist tight in her hair.
She's doesn't pull back for a second. Nearly delirious with desire, anything she can do to keep the energy, the tension, she's going for it.
She shifts her weight to get her feet beneath her, planting wet open-mouthed kisses from where she began at his thigh, across his abdomen, laving her tongue over a nipple. When she's fully upright again, on admittedly shakey legs, she presses fully against them, lips brushing their ear.
"You– hhm– you wanna answer my question, gorgeous?"
He grabs at her as she makes her way upright, greedy for more touch, more anything - his cock is making a valiant attempt at recovering, his hips still jerking at each new shred of sensation.
"You win," they pant, clutching at her hips. "Fuck. There's no way I could argue otherwise. You win." They drag her into a sloppy, breathless kiss, careless of the mess they're making as they grind themself against her.
"Need to be inside you," they manage as they pull back for a second, before chasing her mouth again.
She leans into their touch, eager for anything he'll give her as long as its more.
Panting into the kiss, she breathes "Mn- so don't–hhah.. don't agrue". Her hands leave his skin, but she doesn't move from his lips. She's unlacing her underthings, letting them fall unceremoniously to her feet. "Can't believe I still– nnh– have these on.
She presses against them again, skin to skin, blissfully bare. "Fuck okay– we need to be horizontal like now.
Carnelian pulls away, looking around - nowhere close looks suitable. With a grumble he stomps his foot on the ground, his magic racing outwards. Thick, green moss blooms a carpet across a nearby patch of ground, thick enough to act as a reasonable cushion for activities. They drag Dane closer, grinning, and flop down on the moss, looking up at her. "How's this?"
Dane huffs out a breath as they land, caging him in with hands on either side of his head. "Again, better." She grins down at them, dark hair falling to frame her face.
She shifts to straddle him, sitting up straight, a slight arch in her back. With their cock trapped between their lower abdomen and the wet heat of her cunt, she experimentally rolls her hips. Once. Twice. An absolutely sinful moan pours from her at the friction.
She might have intended to tease him further, but she's too impatient to draw this out much more. She rises up on her knees enough to reach a hand between her thighs–slick with arousal–and lines him up, hissing at the stretch.
"H-holyshit... s'good," she bites her lip, head tipped back, forcing herself to sink down slowly. "You feel– ngh~"
He groans, trying to resist the urge to just thrust upwards into the hot clasp of her cunt. "Fuck, you're so wet-" He grips her hips, making himself stick to the torturously slow speed she's setting. Once he's all the way in he grinds against her for a moment, panting, before pulling back out again. He sinks back in with a moan. "Fuck... you're going to make me lose my mind..."
Dane only nods in agreement, lips parted, shuddering at the grind of their hips when she hits home.
Adjusted to their size, she sets a steady pace, not so agonizingly slow as before, but indulgent, letting herself savor the drag with every rock of her hips.
A smirk tugs at her lips watching him fight to follow her lead as far as pacing. Bet I can make him lose that fight, too.
"Mm. Good, hhah–" a moan rips from her as she shifts to lean forward to skate both thumbs over his nipples. "Bet you're– ngh, even prettier when you lose control."
"You're - doing this on fucking - purpose," they pant, hips jerking. "Fuck."
But that had sounded like a challenge.
Gripping her hips, they brace themself, beginning to fuck upwards into her with more intent now, no longer trying to match her pace. The filthy wet slap of flesh on flesh is loud amidst the quiet trees, and they love it - nothing courtly or civilised about any of this. It's perfect.
"Make that sound again," they pant, driving harder into her. "Moan for me. Let's hear you."
"Ah– s'what ‐ if I am?"
Dane might've laughed at the ease of it—of getting her way—but holy shit, fuck yes, was the hot, blunt slide of surrender beyond blissful.
She keens, blunt fingernails carving crescent moons into their shoulders.
"Yessss... gods you're so–" an absolutely undignified and borderline desperate sound wrenches from somewhere deep in her chest. "fFUCK 'm close–"
The bite of her fingernails tears a low sound from them, and they buck harder up into her. "Yes - do it-" They reach to circle her clit with their thumb, watching her face greedily. "Fall apart for me. Your turn, mutt, come for me."
They're not far off either, if they're honest. They would absolutely not have lasted without their first climax.
It hits her all at once; no preamble, all devastating impact. "Ohgods, FUCK–" a filthy moan rings through the trees, but the roar in her ears is all white noise, release wracking through her.
She shakes with it, rocking back to meet each forceful thrust of their hips even as she flutters around their length.
A dazed, but somehow still shit-eating grin plasters itself on her face as her eyes focus again, meeting his. "You're– mnh - kinda hot - y'know that?" she pants, still riding out the aftershocks of pleasure.
The shock of her release had tipped them over too, groaning as their cock pulsed inside her. They stare up at her and her shit-eating grin with dazed bemusement, panting and oversensitive as she continues to ride them. "I should fucking hope so!" they manage. "F- agh-" They twitch, grinding their softening cock deeper into her. Despite the sensitivity they're not yet ready to be done either.
This time she does laugh, bright and breathless with exertion; a thin sheen of sweat glazing her skin.
She can't remember the last time she had chemistry like this. Maybe ever.
Eventually though, they did have to part. She shifts, gasping with sensitivity as their softening cock slips free, their combined mess drooling from her. But she doesn't go far; just sits astride their thighs, thumbs finding their place again at his hipbones as her eyes rove lazily over their form, humming approvingly.
They don't rush her, hands drifting idly up to her ribs as they look up at her, sated and lazy.
"Well," they say after a moment, with a grin. "That was fun, huh? A better evening than you'd've spent with Sir Bozo?"
(A knight is pacing back and forth in the red moonlight at Bloodhaven, visibly jittery. He has short white hair, heterochromatic teal & purple eyes, and is around 5'8.)
Vel had been out, foraging and generally enjoying the night, when they notice the knight. They pause- something wasn’t right, clearly.
They approach slowly, making sure they’re visible well before they get close. “Sir? Are… are you quite alright?” They call softly, head tipping as their own heterochromatic eyes rake over him, looking for any obvious signs or injuries.
(He jolts and takes a step back.)
Y- err, I might be? My head hurts and I'm just- a little worried, no big deal.
(There's a smudge of blood across his cheek, but no visible injuries.)
Vel frowns slightly. “You don’t… seem alright.” They note the blood and lack injury that it could have come from.
“Is there… could I help? Please?” They make no attempt to get any closer. “We could at least get your face cleaned up? You said your head hurt- did you hit it?”
They dug into the basket at their side. “I have fresh herbs and willow root- we can make tea to help with the pain…”
...I just have a headache from uh, suppressing-
I don't like tea very much, but if you think it would help, maybe... (he looks at them warily)
“Suppressing something? Hm. I don’t believe that tea is the best remedy, then.” They tip their head, looking up again, their eyes assessing. And… a little too bright for how dark the night was.
“I want to help you, sir. I… I know you don’t know me, but… I do. Even if the problem isn’t small or easy to fix.”
(Aurorian's eyes seem to almost glow in the night.)
....Alright. I'm a werewolf, for starters, and I missed the full moon a few days ago.
“You… missed it?” They blink a few times before shaking their head. “Ok. Ok. Right. Werewolf. Uh… it, uh, this reaction is… your body catching back up, then?”
That and the blood moon. 'm scared of blood moons, really scared. I also don't want to get hit in the face and poisoned again if I go on a rampage. But I neeeed to change my form so badly.
“Ok- wait who hit- no. Not the point right now.” They run a hand through their hair. “Den. We need a den.”
They put their hands on their hips and start pacing, mumbling to themself as they do. “My closet is barely big enough for me. And werewolves are larger than natural wolves on average, so we can’t do that… shit.”
The pause, look briefly guilty, then their face sets in resolve. “I know you have no reason to trust me, but… I have a room we can go to. It should be big enough. And it’s safe and nice there.”
... I'll choose to trust you because I think I'm pretty boned if I don't. Thank you for deciding to help me.
Vel nods decisively. “Alright then. Come on, this way.” They pause. “You can call me Vel, by the way.”
They lead the knight into the castle, through the corridors (doing a surprisingly good job of avoiding other people) until the two reach one of the guest rooms.
It was… messy. Clothes were everywhere, with a fair number heaped onto the bed along with multiple blankets. Vel starts moving around the room, tidying up. They weren’t bothering much with the clothing, but rather focusing on securing and moving anything fragile or breakable, such as the vanity mirror. The whole place smelled strongly of fae. And Vel.
“This, uh… this isn’t actually my room. It’s… they’re… we’re, uh, friends? Sort of?”
(Aurorian nods slowly) Right. (He looks around and twitches slightly, sitting down on the floor.)
I think the ceiling's high enough for my wolf form.
(On another glance, now that Aurorian isn't pacing back and forth, they seem just a little faelike. Not enough to be a full fae, surely, but something's up. It might also explain the design style on his armour.)
Vel frowns. They watch for another moment. The lighting was better in here and they were starting to see more. Outside they had attributed it to the werewolf-ness. Now they weren’t so sure.
They had tests for this, but they didn’t really want to start bopping the barely hanging on werewolf with iron. They hadn’t learned this knight’s name yet, even if they were loathe to do so in this way.
Even as the words left a sour taste in their mouth, they asked, “I don’t believe we finished introductions earlier. May I have your name, sir knight?”
...Have it or know it? You can know it but not have it... I go by Aurorian.
(He flips a couple switches on his right leg's armour, removing the pieces more easily than if he'd had traditional removal methods.)
Vel groans, rubbing their face. “Has someone else tried to take it? Fuck. Are you trapped? Are you safe? I- I can try to help.”
Vel watches him as he removes the armor with unconcealed worry. “…do you want help?”
I think Fulgere technically has it, but I still get to use it. She just can use it to command me or something? Why would I need help? (he seems genuinely slightly confused)
I should be quick enough to remove all this before my body changes, probably.
“I meant ‘do you want help getting away’, though I’d be happy to help with your armor.”
Vel hugs their middle. “…why don’t you seem upset? Has she ordered you not to be? I… how else could you be ok with one of them… owning you like that?”
(He removes the left leg of armour and his right arm's, starting work on his left arm.) Should be alright.
I don't remember. I think I've worked for her for at least 5 years, maybe more... she's not been too bad to me. Better than the alternative, I assume.
Vel gapes at him. “Not too bad?! I- thats- she’s fae! Who owns you! She hasn’t… has she not…?” They run their hands through their hair, starting to pace again.
“What alternative!? Free will!? Anything is better than being- than-“ they tug at the strands. “Why are you so calm about this??”
Has she not done what? (He finishes removing his armour, including his torso armour, which all now sits in a pile. He's in a blue linen tunic and linen pants with leg wraps and socks.)
I think I have free will, probably. Dunno, I'm used to it, I guess?
“… she hasn’t… hurt you? Forced you to do things you don’t want to?” Vel sits heavily on the bed, grabbing one of the pillows and hugging it to their chest, their legs pulled up. “I don’t understand how you can be so ok with this. I… I hated every second…” their voice had dropped to a whisper by the end.
I don't remember. I think sometimes she makes me do things I don't want to, but it's not usually all that bad. The other fae in her kingdom are pushier than her.
Vel stares at him for a second. “Not that bad? I… I- they treated me like a- I was hun-“.
They stop as they realize they were close to giving too much away about their past.
“…I guess you got lucky with your owner.”
Not really lucky. The others still like to get their share, and since she's their queen I think I'm sort of like, owned by the state.
(He twitches again) Ow.
Vel winces, then shakes their head. “I am… so sorry you are trapped like that. I… suppose I’m happy you are not distressed by your situation, though.”
“Don’t keep holding it back. Especially if it’s causing you pain.” They sigh. “Should I move back or leave the room? How much danger will I be in? “
..Right. If you can hide behind a piece of furniture- I'll probably be a little cramped when I shift, and it'll be hard enough for me to maneuver that you should be safe that way.
(He collapses forward and his form starts to change.)
Vel rolls off the bed and crawls under it, briefly sticking their hand back out to give a thumbs up before vanishing underneath entirely.
(He transforms fully, and a very large white wolf is now in his place, sitting somewhat cramped with its head against the ceiling.)
(It leans down and sniffs at the floor, sticking its nose against the bottom of the bed. It growls when it realizes it can't get to Vel, and retreats, scratching its claws lightly against the floor.)
There’s a chirrup from under the bed, distinctly more animal, fox-like, than human. The sound is of greeting, something placating and an assuring that Aurorian is welcome and in charge in this den.
(Its ears perk up and it tilts its head as best as it can manage in its cramped position. This has seemed to placate it a little, no longer tempting it to go after Vel. Though, it remains a little suspicious of them.)
There’s some shuffling from under the bed before green eyes peek out. They were still far enough back to be safe, but now more visible.
Another fox chirp and a whine. Submission and letting it know that they’re not a threat.
Vel didn’t really intended to submit to this wolf, but it was best that they work with it rather than against it- after all, they knew too well that they certainly wouldn’t win a fight with it. And they did want to try to be friends.
(The wolf leans down again and peers at them with one big purple eye, making a small snuffling noise as it sniffs.)
(It elects to lay down as much as it can in the room, whining aimlessly.)
Vel pokes their hand out to let it sniff, and if it was willing, a pat. “I know big guy. I know this sucks. But isn’t this nice? Cozy den- safe, warm, comfortable enough for the night? And you’re not alone. Not alone in this. I’m here. It’s going to be ok.”
(It allows a pat and licks their whole hand in one go.)
@fae-prince-carnelian
"Uh-"
This is the moment when Carn opens the door to their room. They blink at the gigantic... wolf... on their floor, its muzzle stuck under the bed.
"... what the fuck...?"
( @velkynsisirn )
Vel wriggles until their face is poking out from under the bed. “Oh. Uh… hi Carn. I, um… it’s a long story. But, uh… he needed somewhere to go. I couldn’t leave him outside.”
They give the fae their best puppy eyes. “I’m sorry. Please let him stay?”
( @fae-prince-carnelian or @knighted-lavender-auroras I’m not sure who goes next)
(The wolf lifts its head and turns to Carnelian, looking at them with suspicion.)
( @fae-prince-carnelian if you want to bounce off here or Vel's response)
"... so you brought a giant wolf into my room?" Carn says, bemused. "And why are you under the bed?"
They give the wolf a hard stare, purely because it's watching him suspiciously.
( @velkynsisirn - makes sense for it to be you-Aurorian-me :) )
“Uh… yeah. Thats… sorta what happened. He’s, uh… kinda a werewolf thats having to deal with the blood moon right now. He needed a safe den. And I couldn’t take him to my closet because he wouldnt fit in there.”
They tap their fingers on the floor nervously. “And I’m under the bed so he could adjust to me without risking being bit or eaten.”
@knighted-lavender-auroras
(It huffs and stands slowly in the room, trying not to hit its head. It snaps its jaws in Carnelian’s direction.)
( @fae-prince-carnelian )
"Hey! Don't be rude, this is my room!" Carnelian wags a finger at the wolf. ... actually, now that they're paying attention, it feels kind of... familiar. "... wait, don't I know you? You're Fulgere's pet, we met at the Ball, right?"
Something else occurs to them and they look at Vel. "What do you mean, your closet?"
( @velkynsisirn )
They reach out and pat the part of Aurorian they can reach- a paw. “Please be nice? He’s… my friend. Sort of.”
Then they turn back to Carn “I’m talking about the closet I sleep in most nights. I wasn’t exactly invited here, so it’s not like they had a room for me.” They fold their hands and rest their head on them with a shrug.
( @knighted-lavender-auroras )
(At the pet comment, the wolf tries to nip at Carnelian, not minding the attempt at placating this time.)
( @fae-prince-carnelian )
"Wh- hey!! You're way too big for that to be funny!" They scuttle backwards, scowling at the wolf. "I won't even taste good!"
They're almost immediately distracted by Vel's answer. "You what?! You're not allowed to sleep in a closet, you dummy. I have a whole room! You can- wait, you kind of already are using it as your own, aren't you? You've put a wolf in it. A bitey one with an attitude!" they add, scowling at Aurorian.
( @velkynsisirn )
Vel flushes, clearly embarrassed. “I- well- you weren’t here! And your bed is much comfier than the thin mattress I managed to drag into my room. I, um… I didn’t think you’d mind.”
They scoot back under the bed. “Sorry. Aurorian needed somewhere to go and I couldn’t think of anywhere else. And part of my brain started thinking of here as a den and… sorry.”
@knighted-lavender-auroras
(It tries to push Carnelian over with a paw.)
( @fae-prince-carnelian )
"Hey!!" He flails crossly, but is distracted by Vel. "And hey you! Don't look all-" he sighs. "I'm not mad at you, okay? I'm glad you're using the room. I don't mind, you're right. So keep using it. Even if you put big stupid wolves in it." He glares up at Aurorian, which would probably be more menacing if he wasn't currently on his back, on the ground, squished beneath its paw.
( @velkynsisirn )
Vel pokes back out with a soft giggle. “Do you need some help?” They pat Aurorian’s paw again. “Please let him up? He’s not going to hurt either of us.”
( @knighted-lavender-auroras )
(Aurorian grumbles and huffs but releases Carnelian, thwapping his tail against the floor in mild irritation.)
( @fae-prince-carnelian )
"Thank you. Honestly, such rudeness to your host!" He dusts himself off, sitting up. "... though I guess technically that would be the Baron, the room's not actually mine..."
( @velkynsisirn )
Vel wiggles a little further out from under the bed and hold out a hand for Carn. “Come under here. He can’t bap you if he can’t reach you.”
(The wolf twitches and lunges at Carnelian.)
( @fae-prince-carnelian )
"Fuck!"
Carnelian reacts without thinking. They're in a room with furniture made of wood; it's not an ideal reagent, but it's close enough. And because it's close enough, thick vines suddenly burst from the bedframe, blocking the wolf's lunge and moving to wrap around it.
Carnelian, meanwhile, moves unconsciously to block Aurorian's path to Vel. "Hey Vel, was he this aggressive before or am I special?"
( @velkynsisirn )
Earthy scents of oak and dark loam hang thick in the midnight air. The Dusk Watch is a shift that only gets more dull as it goes on—people shuttering their windows before bed mirroring the birds roosting for the night—until all the world is hushed and it's the sentry's duty to resist the gentle lull toward complacency. There are good reasons they're posted in twos. Sir Dead-Weight over there must be half a dozen of them.
For the third time this evening, the absolute lout of a man Dane was paired with leans toward her, brandishing a pair of dice. "All I'm sayin's we could pass the time with a game o' hazard. 's no' my fault if yer afraid to lo–"
She holds up a hand to cut him off, scanning the nearby woods. "Shut the fuck up, will you?" She's sure she heard something; a rustling in the brambles, just out of view. "Probably just a wild animal, but a fight with a damn porcupine beats standing here with you. Mind your post."
She doesn't wait for a reply before stalking forward on light feet, one hand drifting toward the falchion at her hip as she breeches the treeline.
@fae-prince-carnelian
Carnelian is up to mischief. Carnelian is, admittedly, always up to mischief.
Today though, it's harmless. They'd taken a wander through the woods, slightly grumpy, after their little encounter with Sierra, Princess Margaret and the wizard; it didn't feel as everyone had been entirely enchanted by them and that was, obviously, awful. But they were back out in the woods now - their realm - and so that was all fine.
Currently they were up a tree, dangling upside down with knees hooked over the branch above them as they picked idly at a pinecone. They paused, hearing something crashing through undergrowth nearby - big and on the civilisation side. Probably a person. They dropped down and went to investigate, curious.
Oh! Person.
They slink through the brambles, curious; the plants part for them to allow them through.
Dane moves more quietly than most would through the groundcover, but with brambles this thick it's still louder than she'd like.
She pauses, scanning for signs of anything amiss. If there was someone out here, they'd better have a good reason.
Not the best route for a theif to take by far. Too difficult to come back the way they came with arms full of spoils. Could always be a lookout for another sort of crime, though.
There's movement up ahead in the underbrush. No, scratch that, the brush itself is moving. She squints through the murky darkness. There is someone there.
"Speak your name," she rasps, hand ready at the grip of her blade. "I don't like surprises."
In the darkness, Carn grins, muscles bunching slightly. They want to frighten this little - well, not so little - human. They want to see what she does when surprised. They pace smoothly to the side, circling her as they consider.
But she already looks jumpy, and she's holding a sword.
"Oh, I don't share my name with just anyone," they say regardless. "But since you ask... may I have yours?"
And she does startle, just slightly; everything going tense for just a breath before she turns evenly in the direction of the voice.
Hard to make out any detail in the dark. She lifts her visor to give herself a better view of the stranger.
Nothing about them seems to speak of criminal intent - they're not dressed to conceal. Her shoulders drop, relaxing a bit as her eyes flick over his form in search of a weapon and finding none. Her hand doesn't stray from the grip of her own weapon, however. There is something peculiar about this one, she just can't quite place it.
She swallows, and her voice comes out clear; convincingly steady. "It's Vuurgast." Her brow furrows. She's the one who's asking the questions here. "You make a habit of gadding about in the woods in the middle of the night?" She gestures with her right hand, indicating the falchion held loosely in its grasp. "I could have swung at you instead of asking questions."
Carnelian grins. Such a sweetly trusting little human. "Vuurgast." They savour the name for a second, the taste of it on their tongue - a little sweet, a little bitter, something almost earthy about it. Delicious. Theirs, now, not that she knows.
They leave it be. They hold the name within them, now - but it doesn't mean they have to do anything with it, yet.
"I do, actually. I quite like it out here," they answer, motioning around the woods at large. "You seem a little nervous, considering you're also gadding about in the woods in the middle of the night. You seem a bit less comfortable with the idea than I am. And you could have swung at me, but there's quite a lot of plants in the way, right? I bet those aren't good for a blade. The woods is a bad place for a swordfight."
Dane narrows her eyes a touch, unsure if she likes the tone in which her name was spoken back to her.
She tilts her head just slightly, listening not a bit skeptically to their sorely lacking explanation as to their purpose in the forest.
Gesturing to herself—armored and armed, having clearly come from the direction of the Gates—she deadpans, "It is. Kind of my job to be on alert." She shifts her weight, glancing over their shoulder at the trees behind. "Used to spend a lot of time out after dark actually, just never could get used to the quiet of the woods at night. In town if it's this quiet, someone's up to something." Her voice deepens to an almost smoky timbre as she completes the thought. It seems she's still not entirely convinced someone isn't.
Choosing to put that aside for the moment, she pinches the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, sighing, "Woods wouldn't be my first pick for a place to fight, no, but I have a feeling if you were itching to start one," she quirks an eyebrow, "You'd have done it by now, seeing as you've got me here. Alone."
"Maybe it's not a fight I'm itching for," Carnelian says, with a teasing grin. But she's caught their attention now, and they tilt their head, curious. "So towns are noisy, then? It's only suspicious when it's quiet? I mean, that does sort of go for the woods, too. If you can't hear nature something's wrong. What were you doing out after dark, when you used to spend a lot of time out here?"
They wander closer, peering at her with interest - her face is visible with the visor up, and they have no trouble seeing in the dark.
"So you're a guard then? Pretty dedicated to be wandering out here rather than just hiding behind your walls until the trouble comes to you."
Oh? A bold one, they are. Alright. If it's banter, she can play that game.
A smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth. "Getting up to no good, usually."
Then her brow knits together. She's not so distracted by that train of thought as to miss the other implication in their words. "Have you... never been in a town?"
Something softens in her at the almost childlike curiosity in their eyes as they peer at her. She signs internally, this is probably stupid... She reaches up with both hands and removes her helm.
"Mm. Not so much dedicated as annoyed with the dolt they've lumped me in with tonight." She grins roguishly. "Thought you might be a porcupine. Seemed the preferable sort of prick to deal with."
Carn lets out a delighted little bark of laughter. "Maybe you should've sent him after the porcupine instead. But I can see the thinking. What if it had been something bigger than a porcupine and scarier than me?" They raise an eyebrow.
They pause at the question. "I mean, I've been in a town before. But never at night, and never really long enough to take note of how the sounds change. It just seemed always really noisy to me. Just -" They wave their hands vaguely. It's hard to explain how civilisation feels for them - being surrounded by iron has a sensation they can feel in their teeth.
Something occurs to them, and they grin impishly. "Hey. Do you wanna mess with your doltish colleague?"
"Scarier than you? Hmm.." her words dripping with mock-contemplation as she looks them up and down, pretending to evaluate the threat-level for comparison's sake. A crooked smirk plays on her lips, her tongue curling briefly around a canine. "Dunno, you're pretty stunning as it is." The double-meaning of the word toward 'frightening' is a stretch at best, but she tries for it anyway. "B'sides that, if I'd have stayed at my post you'd have had him to talk to instead of me." she huffs a quiet chuckle.
Dane absently runs the hand not occupied holding her helm through her hair, nodding as she listens. Guess being outta your element can be overwhelming in either direction.
She raises her eyebrows. Maybe a bit of a scare would set the man right. "...What did you have in mind?"
Carn's delight this time is even more palpable. "Oh, she flirts! You're definitely preferable to the rumoured bozo. Yeah, I definitely got the better option." They admire her as she runs a hand through her hair, amused.
At the question, they tilt their head, considering. "Depends how mean ya want to be. Are we just giving him a little jolt, or seeing if we can make him piss his braies?"
The corners of her eyes crinkle as her grin stretches across her face. "I wanna say I got the best of three options, but that's probably not too flattering considering your competition. No offense to the porcupine."
She actually laughs at the question. A warm sound from somewhere deep in her chest. "Ehhh, as long as he's not hurt on my watch. Not sure I could make a great excuse for that seeing as I'm s'posed to be over there with him."
"Pissing his braies it is!" Carn says brightly. "I can chase him through the woods for you a bit if you like - not too far into them. Herd him like a sheepdog. Maybe it'll make him buck up his ideas a bit."
They look around, thoughtful. "If you tell him you've found something and bring him over I can torment him a little bit. Though I suppose you won't be able to watch and enjoy it if I'm chasing him through the trees, will you?"
Dane snorts a laugh at their enthusiasm, shaking her head. Almost fondly.
"Sure, I could tell him to come over here, but I bet he'd expect me to rescue him from you, even if he didn't wonder why I wasn't being chased myself..." Dane chews her lip as she considers.
Carn can pinpoint the moment the idea comes to her by the look in her eyes. "What if we get close enough to the treeline he can hear me shout for help, but I hide before he gets here? Then you can chase him to your heart's content, and I get to scare him again when he mentions it to me later by pretending I don't know what he's talking about. I didn't call for help at all." A conspiratorial smile spreads across her face. "'n fact, I didn't hear anyone else yell either."
Dane meets their gaze, resisting the urge to instead gaze at them. They're an uncanny sort of pretty.
"Course, I still wouldn't get to watch," she tilts her head just slightly. "So, I guess you'd have to tell me about it some other time"
Carn's grin curls wickedly. Are their teeth just a little too sharp? It's hard to tell, in the dim light. "That sounds perfect," they breathe, staring at her admiringly. "You have a brilliant mind, dearest Ser Vuurgast. Wonderful! Then we have a plan. You'll shout for help, and I'll wait to gently terrorise your hapless coworker. It'll be magnificent!"
They beam at her, pleased. "You'll have to tell me how he reacts when you act like nothing's happened, too. I bet it'll be delicious."
Dane chuckles, allowing herself a moment to bask in the compliment. She's often commended for her strength, or her skill with a blade; it's not nearly so often that she's praised for her mind.
She takes a few steps in the direction of the gates as she scouts for a place to quickly hide in after getting the other knight's attention.
A thick snarl of brambles lies not too far off, earning an appreciative nod. This'll do nicely.
"Deal. But y'know, I do usually like to know what to call someone before I agree to see them again." She gives a crooked grin, "For delicious exchanges or otherwise."
"Oh! I forgot!" They smack their forehead lightly. "Carnelian! You can call me Carnelian. I look forward to further delicious exchanges." They grin at her. "Have fun being bozo-bait."
They slip into their own patch of undergrowth, moving through it suspiciously easily. They'lll choose their moment carefully.
Carnelian. It suits them.
She winks, voice ringing out in the night. "There's definitely something out here! I can take 'em, but be on–" she cuts herself off, putting on what she hopes is a convincing air of alarm. "oh FUCK, get out here!"
She hastens to her hiding spot–if she's crashing through the underbrush she hopes he'll assume it's the sounds of a fight–and nestles quickly among the leaves and vines, sufficiently out of sight.
Quiet. Quiet. Heavy footfalls. He's on his way.
The bozo's path into the woods is as loud and obvious to Carnelian's enhanced senses as if he'd had cowbells tied to every limb. Their grin widens, tongue flickering out to wet their lips, and moves into action.
Sir Bozo crashes into the clearing where they'd been, breathing heavily. "What the fuck? Where's-"
He freezes as a sound rumbles out from the undergrowth - a growl, deep and low, the kind of noise which turns guts to liquid. His panicked gaze flickers over the dark leaves and spots, amongst them, a pair of glowing eyes. He makes a strangled sound, turns to run - and behind him something bursts out of the trees to chase.
The woods are alive with movement, as if an entire pack of monsters is chasing him down - thrashing branches and leaves, the crack of branches and wild movement which suggest huge bodies moving through spaces too small for them. The sounds too come from everywhere, snarling growls chasing the hapless prey onwards, deeper into the dark trees, his fear leaving the stink of itself behind like a beacon to follow.
She peers through the brush, trying her best to watch the commotion, but hearing more than seeing in the darkness.
The snarl seems to vibrate in her chest. What in the hells?
Dane has half a mind to abandon her hiding spot; she has no intention of leaving the man to fend for himself against a large predator, but... the noise seems to be coming from where Carnelian slipped off to. Maybe with all their time in the woods they've learned to mimic animal calls? Could be useful.
Then more. The sounds of leaves rustling and branches snapping in all directions–but something's off.
The back of her neck prickles with unease as much at the wrongness of the sound as her inability to pinpoint it.
There are no footfalls.
Something making that much racket would be big. Heavy. The only actual impact she hears on the ground is paired with the metallic clink clink clink of armor.
All at once it clicks. It's an illusion. Son of a bitch, they have magic.
Carn doesn't even need the stink of Bozo's fear to follow him, but it helps. They herd him skillfully along, carefully positioning the movement of trees and bushes to make sure he doesn't veer off too deep into the woods - just deep enough into the trees that the light is gone.
And then, finally, they herd him out again.
Bozo breaks free of the trees bordering the town again and stumbles with the sudden shock of it, jelly-legged - before booking it back towards the gates with a scream. Back in the treeline, Carn drops out of their shapeshift, breathing heavily and grinning. They can't maintain something that size for very long, but sometimes the effect is worth it. They stretch luxuriously, and then turn to make their way back through the trees towards Dane, whistling cheerfully. It's a good day.
They've moved too far off for Dane to see, but the panicked cry still reaches her ears in the night.
Chuckling, she extracts herself from the brambles and stretches, gauntleted hands pressed to her lower back. She moves to lean against the thick trunk of a nearby tree, awaiting Carnelian's return.
When they find her, she's got her arms crossed, shaking her head as if prepared to scold them, but there's no malice behind her eyes—a grin creeps across her face as they draw nearer. She laughs, "One of these days I'll remember a lack of steel doesn't mean a lack of power."
They grin. "Oh, decidedly not. I'm not sure if he literally pissed himself or not, but it was close. A little dribble at minimum." They smirk. "You'll have to tell me what his face looks like when you tell him you weren't there and heard nothing."
Now that the immediate window for mischief has close, they eye her lazily up and down, mimicking her posture against a tree, arms folded. "So, Ser Vuurgast. What now?"
"Good enough for me!" She snorts a laugh "If he's embarrassed enough he won't mention too many details to anyone else. Including how long I've been away from my post."
She holds up a hand as if swearing an oath, but doesn't adjust her relaxed posture. "You have my word, you'll hear every detail."
Dane doesn't squirm under their gaze as some would, just lets them look, watching their face as she waits for eye contact to return. "Mm. Dunno." She smirks, a crooked sort of thing, eyes half-lidded. "What's a pretty thing like you usually do when they find themselves alone with someone in the woods? When you aren't scaring the piss out of 'em, that is."
"Depends if the other person is also a pretty thing," Carn says, with a grin. They stroll forwards to loop their arms lazily around her neck - no attempt to play coy here. "And then I like getting creative. Though if you don't know what you want to do..." They give an exaggerated shrug, pulling away again.
Dane hums appreciatively at the proximity, eyes flicking just briefly to Carnelian's lips as they speak.
They smell of summer. Bright and warm at once. Almost like wassail.
She rolls her eyes at the jest, but grins, voice dipping once again to a low, smoky timbre. "You didn't ask what I wanted, Carnelian. You asked what's next."
"Well then, shall I try again? What do you want, Ser Vuurgast?" Their tongue flickers out to wet their lips, swaying back towards her once again. This time they press themself against her properly, grinning. "I thought perhaps you might not know that, either."
She chuckles, low and warm in her throat.
Her hands move to grip their waist as if on instinct as Carnelian closes the distance, thumbs rubbing slow circles on their hip bones.
"I want what I always want..." she tips her head, her lips just brushing theirs as her volume falls to a murmur, "you wanna see how good you can feel too?"
"Always," they murmur, breath warm against her lips.
They press forward slightly, chasing the kiss - slow at first, then more eagerly, hungry to taste her mouth. There's a simplicity in this which they enjoy; it's just about feeling good. That's simple. That's easy. That's fun.
"Much as I love the armour, you're wearing too much of it," they mumble into her mouth. Thankfully, steel doesn't affect them in the same way as cold iron does. It is still in the way of their hands, though.
She smiles through the kiss, mirroring the shift in intensity–all lips and tongue and teeth. It's good to just feel. To make someone feel.
"Mm– 's that right?" Dane takes the opportunity presented by the separation of their lips to kiss the corner of Carnelian's mouth, his jaw, just below his ear. Behind their back she's pulling at her gauntlet straps, loosening them enough to extract her hands.
With their newfound freedom, her hands run up the lean length of his back. She murmurs "what if i don't wanna stop touching you?"
A teasing nip at his neck—Carn can feel the smirk against their skin as she contradicts herself by continuing on with unbuckling her armor.
They arch approvingly into her touch, a sound rather like a purr escaping them. "Then you should hurry up with the de-armouring so I can touch you too," they demand, squirming at the nip. "Much as I do agree that I am wonderful to touch, and I entirely understand the desire to get distracted by me..."
They're not helping, though, crowding her backwards towards the tree, pressing themself closer. They kiss her again, humming approvingly into her mouth as their hands roam, ready to move in as soon as the armour is out of the way.
She huffs a laugh, breath fanning over the skin of their throat. "Impatient are we?"
Fortunately, she's been doing this for a long time, and without a squire for much of it.
She leans into the kiss, indulgently slow, as deft fingers work to release various clasps and ties.
It's not terribly long before she's down to her arming doublet and breeches, having shed each piece of her armor onto the forest floor in turn.
Her hands slip between the two of them, splayed against his front as they glide upward to his shoulders, pushing him to lean back just slightly so she can see his face when she grins, "Better?"
As soon as she's free from the armour Carn pounces. It's still difficult to feel much through the thick fabric of the arming doublet but they're trying, hauling her against them. They can at the very least feel the warmth of her body now - the rough shape of her as a full, living body.
"Better," they agree, grinning at her as she pushes him back. "My layers are rather less layered than yours." A silk shirt and fine cotton trousers, the silk a deep saffron. It leaves very little to the imagination, at least when the luxury of touch is involved. "Clearly you're a wonderful gift, that you need so much unwrapping."
She barks a laugh. "Or a pain in the ass, that it should take so long."
Their lips meet again, and she snakes one hand around to the middle of their back, the whisper-thin silk of his shirt smooth beneath her fingertips.
Her other hand comes to rest on the side of their neck, thumb just brushing the corner of their jaw as she pulls back to meet their gaze.
A charged moment of silence as she seems to search his eyes... then a wicked grin tugs at her lips.
In one fluid motion, she steps across him, easily pivoting the both of them around to cage him in, his back against the tree trunk this time, her thigh slotting between his legs.
"I do tend to agree with you though," her lips brush the shell of their ear—voice dark with want, "This is much better." Reluctantly, she pulls away just enough to begin undoing the ties down the front of her doublet.
They let out a surprised huff of air as their back smacks into the tree, but grin lasciviously. They begin to grind themself slowly against her thigh as they watch her undress. "Lucky me, front row seats to the strip show," they say with a filthy grin.
They're not exactly helping, reaching around to grab twin handfuls of her ass through her breeches, kneading the muscles and using the grip to pull her harder into them. "Mmm... damn. Better than front row seats..."
A small sound leaves Dane's lips at the contact. At the heat of his hands—stronger than she'd anticipated.
Her eyes are roving over Carnelian as she shucks the arming doublet. "Fucking hells," she curses under her breath, frustrated at the need to tug yet another layer, in the form of a thin shirt, over her head.
That out of the way, there's only a wide band of linen left around her breasts, a narrow ribbon wound through eyelets on one side to keep it in place.
Her hands alight on his waist, not to aid or to hinder, just to appreciate the sinuous roll of their hips. Lips find his neck again, slow and warm, drifting toward his collarbone. She hooks two fingers under the neckline of his shirt and tugs slightly. "You're turn gorgeous," she chuckles against their skin, "you gotta let go of my ass anyway if you want the breeches off."
"But I don't wanna let go of your ass," they gripe, not entirely serious. They do let go though, yanking off the silk shirt and dropping it carelessly to the ground. Bared like this, they're a confection of a creature - nipples pierced with gold, a metallic lustre decorating their skin. They grin at her, sliding their hands up her stomach. "Nice tattoos. 'Bad company'? Good to be forewarned."
She huffs a laugh, taking the moment they're removing their shirt to extract herself from between his thighs and rid herself of her breeches.
A pleasant, anticipatory shiver zips through her, skin prickling with gooseflesh at their touch. Swiftly she's back upon him, hands wandering the newly exposed skin. A thumb glides firmly, but not roughly, over one pierced nipple. "Mm.. how 'bout for now I let you be the judge of that?"
They bite their lip, grinning lazily as they press into her touch. "Mm. I'm a very good judge of whether or not someone's bad company, it's true."
They unlace their own trousers, having to wriggle a little to get out of the tightly tailored fabric - not enormously dignified, but sacrifices must be made in order to display their ass at its best advantage.
"Yea?" She rasps while impatient hands roam up his thighs, thumbs kneading into the soft crease between leg and pelvis.
She had no room to tease for any awkwardness in disrobing for as long as she just spent scattering bits of armor on the ground.
Teeth skate against their throat, hot breath fanning over their jaw. "How're you judging me for the moment then?"
They actually moan a little at the touch of teeth, tilting their head to give her better access. "Delicious company," they mumble. "Much recommended." They kick off the trousers impatiently and immediately grab for her ass again, kneading the muscles there. "Fuck, you feel good. All this muscle, damn..."
Dane smiles sinfully against their skin at the sound, tucking the information into her metaphorical back pocket.
Preening under the praise, she nips at his collarbone, thumbs still working firm circles at his hips. "Mn. You're so- fuck, I wanna take you apart."
She's lost in it now, practically vibrating at the feel, the scent, the taste of it all— the desire to ruin them both.
They laugh breathlessly. "Do it," they challenge, grinning. "Bet you can't."
Despite the words, they press closer to her, breath heavy and shaky. They're hard enough by now that it's making them feel a little unsteady. "Uh." Wait, does she want them to have a cock? Maybe they should have checked. But now it feels like it would be an awkward time to introduce that particular question...
She thrills at the challenge, "Oh?" Her voice low, dangerous. "You don't think so?"
Her knees hit the ground so hard Carnelian has to imagine it hurt, but she barely notices. She considers for an amused moment he might not have expected this of her.
Warm hands find his hips again, pressing him firmly against the tree at his back as a silent stay, and, slowly—frustratingly slowly; she's fighting to stay focused in spite of the heat of want between her legs— she's mouthing up his thighs.
Just a handsbreadth shy of where she's sure they'd really like her mouth to be, she laves her tongue over the thin skin of his inner thigh, looks up at them through her eyelashes, and bites.
"Gnhh-!"
They so nearly lose it right there and then, hips jerking involuntarily upwards. They press themselves back against the tree, panting as they try to pull themselves back under control. "F-fuck," they manage dazedly. "Do that - do that again." They reach down to grip the base of their cock hard, trying to keep themself under control.
Dane chuckles darky, pulling back just enough to look Carnelian in the eye, and– oh. He was a sight; sinful with those oddly fiery eyes blown black with desire.
She makes strangled sort of sound, acutely aware of her own arousal, but fuck she needed to pull that noise out of him again.
She presses forward, mouthing at the thin skin just to the right of his cock, feeling the heat of his skin on her cheek as her nose brushes his fingertips. "If I do," her voice comes out hoarse; gods but she must look just as affected, "you still gonna have it in you to fuck me after?"
She grazes her teeth—barely there— against the twin spot of his other thigh as she waits for a reply.
"Hhhahh- fuck, I'm not even sure - but I'll work it out," they pant. "... real risk of me just blowing inside you as soon as I put it in, and that's - not cool, ffuck..."
They bury their free hand in her hair - not trying to control her movements, just holding on. "Very - unf-fair of you, by the way! Making me look like some - quickshot... not my fault you fucking - gods..."
They're barely managing to keep up the banter, cock drooling over their hand despite their best efforts. It twitches hard at the graze of her teeth and they moan hoarsely, smacking their head back against the trunk of the tree behind them.
"Fuck, look at you– mm, why is that kinda hot?" She's not sure if she said that last bit out loud or not. Her eyes flutter and a low groan escapes her lips at the tug of his hand in her hair.
She squeezes her eyes shut for a second, willing herself to stay lucid. "Do I win the bet then?"
Without waiting for a response, she does sink her teeth into the flesh of his thigh, punctuating with an Indulgent, slow suck at the skin there.
They lose it.
If the bite hadn't been enough to send them over the edge, what followed would have been. They come with a strangled moan, inadvertently pressing Dane's head closer, fingers tangled in her hair. His grip on his cock does nothing whatsoever to delay the inevitable - all it does, thanks to the way he's gripping it, is direct the mess over his own abdomen rather than over Dane.
They slump back against the tree, dazed and dripping. "Fuck." Their voice is shaky and slightly awed as they stare down at her.
Dane smiles through the moan that leaves her as Carnelian spills over, fist tight in her hair.
She's doesn't pull back for a second. Nearly delirious with desire, anything she can do to keep the energy, the tension, she's going for it.
She shifts her weight to get her feet beneath her, planting wet open-mouthed kisses from where she began at his thigh, across his abdomen, laving her tongue over a nipple. When she's fully upright again, on admittedly shakey legs, she presses fully against them, lips brushing their ear.
"You– hhm– you wanna answer my question, gorgeous?"
He grabs at her as she makes her way upright, greedy for more touch, more anything - his cock is making a valiant attempt at recovering, his hips still jerking at each new shred of sensation.
"You win," they pant, clutching at her hips. "Fuck. There's no way I could argue otherwise. You win." They drag her into a sloppy, breathless kiss, careless of the mess they're making as they grind themself against her.
"Need to be inside you," they manage as they pull back for a second, before chasing her mouth again.
She leans into their touch, eager for anything he'll give her as long as its more.
Panting into the kiss, she breathes "Mn- so don't–hhah.. don't agrue". Her hands leave his skin, but she doesn't move from his lips. She's unlacing her underthings, letting them fall unceremoniously to her feet. "Can't believe I still– nnh– have these on.
She presses against them again, skin to skin, blissfully bare. "Fuck okay– we need to be horizontal like now.
Carnelian pulls away, looking around - nowhere close looks suitable. With a grumble he stomps his foot on the ground, his magic racing outwards. Thick, green moss blooms a carpet across a nearby patch of ground, thick enough to act as a reasonable cushion for activities. They drag Dane closer, grinning, and flop down on the moss, looking up at her. "How's this?"
Dane huffs out a breath as they land, caging him in with hands on either side of his head. "Again, better." She grins down at them, dark hair falling to frame her face.
She shifts to straddle him, sitting up straight, a slight arch in her back. With their cock trapped between their lower abdomen and the wet heat of her cunt, she experimentally rolls her hips. Once. Twice. An absolutely sinful moan pours from her at the friction.
She might have intended to tease him further, but she's too impatient to draw this out much more. She rises up on her knees enough to reach a hand between her thighs–slick with arousal–and lines him up, hissing at the stretch.
"H-holyshit... s'good," she bites her lip, head tipped back, forcing herself to sink down slowly. "You feel– ngh~"
He groans, trying to resist the urge to just thrust upwards into the hot clasp of her cunt. "Fuck, you're so wet-" He grips her hips, making himself stick to the torturously slow speed she's setting. Once he's all the way in he grinds against her for a moment, panting, before pulling back out again. He sinks back in with a moan. "Fuck... you're going to make me lose my mind..."
Dane only nods in agreement, lips parted, shuddering at the grind of their hips when she hits home.
Adjusted to their size, she sets a steady pace, not so agonizingly slow as before, but indulgent, letting herself savor the drag with every rock of her hips.
A smirk tugs at her lips watching him fight to follow her lead as far as pacing. Bet I can make him lose that fight, too.
"Mm. Good, hhah–" a moan rips from her as she shifts to lean forward to skate both thumbs over his nipples. "Bet you're– ngh, even prettier when you lose control."
"You're - doing this on fucking - purpose," they pant, hips jerking. "Fuck."
But that had sounded like a challenge.
Gripping her hips, they brace themself, beginning to fuck upwards into her with more intent now, no longer trying to match her pace. The filthy wet slap of flesh on flesh is loud amidst the quiet trees, and they love it - nothing courtly or civilised about any of this. It's perfect.
"Make that sound again," they pant, driving harder into her. "Moan for me. Let's hear you."
"Ah– s'what ‐ if I am?"
Dane might've laughed at the ease of it—of getting her way—but holy shit, fuck yes, was the hot, blunt slide of surrender beyond blissful.
She keens, blunt fingernails carving crescent moons into their shoulders.
"Yessss... gods you're so–" an absolutely undignified and borderline desperate sound wrenches from somewhere deep in her chest. "fFUCK 'm close–"
The bite of her fingernails tears a low sound from them, and they buck harder up into her. "Yes - do it-" They reach to circle her clit with their thumb, watching her face greedily. "Fall apart for me. Your turn, mutt, come for me."
They're not far off either, if they're honest. They would absolutely not have lasted without their first climax.
It hits her all at once; no preamble, all devastating impact. "Ohgods, FUCK–" a filthy moan rings through the trees, but the roar in her ears is all white noise, release wracking through her.
She shakes with it, rocking back to meet each forceful thrust of their hips even as she flutters around their length.
A dazed, but somehow still shit-eating grin plasters itself on her face as her eyes focus again, meeting his. "You're– mnh - kinda hot - y'know that?" she pants, still riding out the aftershocks of pleasure.
The shock of her release had tipped them over too, groaning as their cock pulsed inside her. They stare up at her and her shit-eating grin with dazed bemusement, panting and oversensitive as she continues to ride them. "I should fucking hope so!" they manage. "F- agh-" They twitch, grinding their softening cock deeper into her. Despite the sensitivity they're not yet ready to be done either.
Earthy scents of oak and dark loam hang thick in the midnight air. The Dusk Watch is a shift that only gets more dull as it goes on—people shuttering their windows before bed mirroring the birds roosting for the night—until all the world is hushed and it's the sentry's duty to resist the gentle lull toward complacency. There are good reasons they're posted in twos. Sir Dead-Weight over there must be half a dozen of them.
For the third time this evening, the absolute lout of a man Dane was paired with leans toward her, brandishing a pair of dice. "All I'm sayin's we could pass the time with a game o' hazard. 's no' my fault if yer afraid to lo–"
She holds up a hand to cut him off, scanning the nearby woods. "Shut the fuck up, will you?" She's sure she heard something; a rustling in the brambles, just out of view. "Probably just a wild animal, but a fight with a damn porcupine beats standing here with you. Mind your post."
She doesn't wait for a reply before stalking forward on light feet, one hand drifting toward the falchion at her hip as she breeches the treeline.
@fae-prince-carnelian
Carnelian is up to mischief. Carnelian is, admittedly, always up to mischief.
Today though, it's harmless. They'd taken a wander through the woods, slightly grumpy, after their little encounter with Sierra, Princess Margaret and the wizard; it didn't feel as everyone had been entirely enchanted by them and that was, obviously, awful. But they were back out in the woods now - their realm - and so that was all fine.
Currently they were up a tree, dangling upside down with knees hooked over the branch above them as they picked idly at a pinecone. They paused, hearing something crashing through undergrowth nearby - big and on the civilisation side. Probably a person. They dropped down and went to investigate, curious.
Oh! Person.
They slink through the brambles, curious; the plants part for them to allow them through.
Dane moves more quietly than most would through the groundcover, but with brambles this thick it's still louder than she'd like.
She pauses, scanning for signs of anything amiss. If there was someone out here, they'd better have a good reason.
Not the best route for a theif to take by far. Too difficult to come back the way they came with arms full of spoils. Could always be a lookout for another sort of crime, though.
There's movement up ahead in the underbrush. No, scratch that, the brush itself is moving. She squints through the murky darkness. There is someone there.
"Speak your name," she rasps, hand ready at the grip of her blade. "I don't like surprises."
In the darkness, Carn grins, muscles bunching slightly. They want to frighten this little - well, not so little - human. They want to see what she does when surprised. They pace smoothly to the side, circling her as they consider.
But she already looks jumpy, and she's holding a sword.
"Oh, I don't share my name with just anyone," they say regardless. "But since you ask... may I have yours?"
And she does startle, just slightly; everything going tense for just a breath before she turns evenly in the direction of the voice.
Hard to make out any detail in the dark. She lifts her visor to give herself a better view of the stranger.
Nothing about them seems to speak of criminal intent - they're not dressed to conceal. Her shoulders drop, relaxing a bit as her eyes flick over his form in search of a weapon and finding none. Her hand doesn't stray from the grip of her own weapon, however. There is something peculiar about this one, she just can't quite place it.
She swallows, and her voice comes out clear; convincingly steady. "It's Vuurgast." Her brow furrows. She's the one who's asking the questions here. "You make a habit of gadding about in the woods in the middle of the night?" She gestures with her right hand, indicating the falchion held loosely in its grasp. "I could have swung at you instead of asking questions."
Carnelian grins. Such a sweetly trusting little human. "Vuurgast." They savour the name for a second, the taste of it on their tongue - a little sweet, a little bitter, something almost earthy about it. Delicious. Theirs, now, not that she knows.
They leave it be. They hold the name within them, now - but it doesn't mean they have to do anything with it, yet.
"I do, actually. I quite like it out here," they answer, motioning around the woods at large. "You seem a little nervous, considering you're also gadding about in the woods in the middle of the night. You seem a bit less comfortable with the idea than I am. And you could have swung at me, but there's quite a lot of plants in the way, right? I bet those aren't good for a blade. The woods is a bad place for a swordfight."
Dane narrows her eyes a touch, unsure if she likes the tone in which her name was spoken back to her.
She tilts her head just slightly, listening not a bit skeptically to their sorely lacking explanation as to their purpose in the forest.
Gesturing to herself—armored and armed, having clearly come from the direction of the Gates—she deadpans, "It is. Kind of my job to be on alert." She shifts her weight, glancing over their shoulder at the trees behind. "Used to spend a lot of time out after dark actually, just never could get used to the quiet of the woods at night. In town if it's this quiet, someone's up to something." Her voice deepens to an almost smoky timbre as she completes the thought. It seems she's still not entirely convinced someone isn't.
Choosing to put that aside for the moment, she pinches the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, sighing, "Woods wouldn't be my first pick for a place to fight, no, but I have a feeling if you were itching to start one," she quirks an eyebrow, "You'd have done it by now, seeing as you've got me here. Alone."
"Maybe it's not a fight I'm itching for," Carnelian says, with a teasing grin. But she's caught their attention now, and they tilt their head, curious. "So towns are noisy, then? It's only suspicious when it's quiet? I mean, that does sort of go for the woods, too. If you can't hear nature something's wrong. What were you doing out after dark, when you used to spend a lot of time out here?"
They wander closer, peering at her with interest - her face is visible with the visor up, and they have no trouble seeing in the dark.
"So you're a guard then? Pretty dedicated to be wandering out here rather than just hiding behind your walls until the trouble comes to you."
Oh? A bold one, they are. Alright. If it's banter, she can play that game.
A smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth. "Getting up to no good, usually."
Then her brow knits together. She's not so distracted by that train of thought as to miss the other implication in their words. "Have you... never been in a town?"
Something softens in her at the almost childlike curiosity in their eyes as they peer at her. She signs internally, this is probably stupid... She reaches up with both hands and removes her helm.
"Mm. Not so much dedicated as annoyed with the dolt they've lumped me in with tonight." She grins roguishly. "Thought you might be a porcupine. Seemed the preferable sort of prick to deal with."
Carn lets out a delighted little bark of laughter. "Maybe you should've sent him after the porcupine instead. But I can see the thinking. What if it had been something bigger than a porcupine and scarier than me?" They raise an eyebrow.
They pause at the question. "I mean, I've been in a town before. But never at night, and never really long enough to take note of how the sounds change. It just seemed always really noisy to me. Just -" They wave their hands vaguely. It's hard to explain how civilisation feels for them - being surrounded by iron has a sensation they can feel in their teeth.
Something occurs to them, and they grin impishly. "Hey. Do you wanna mess with your doltish colleague?"
"Scarier than you? Hmm.." her words dripping with mock-contemplation as she looks them up and down, pretending to evaluate the threat-level for comparison's sake. A crooked smirk plays on her lips, her tongue curling briefly around a canine. "Dunno, you're pretty stunning as it is." The double-meaning of the word toward 'frightening' is a stretch at best, but she tries for it anyway. "B'sides that, if I'd have stayed at my post you'd have had him to talk to instead of me." she huffs a quiet chuckle.
Dane absently runs the hand not occupied holding her helm through her hair, nodding as she listens. Guess being outta your element can be overwhelming in either direction.
She raises her eyebrows. Maybe a bit of a scare would set the man right. "...What did you have in mind?"
Carn's delight this time is even more palpable. "Oh, she flirts! You're definitely preferable to the rumoured bozo. Yeah, I definitely got the better option." They admire her as she runs a hand through her hair, amused.
At the question, they tilt their head, considering. "Depends how mean ya want to be. Are we just giving him a little jolt, or seeing if we can make him piss his braies?"
The corners of her eyes crinkle as her grin stretches across her face. "I wanna say I got the best of three options, but that's probably not too flattering considering your competition. No offense to the porcupine."
She actually laughs at the question. A warm sound from somewhere deep in her chest. "Ehhh, as long as he's not hurt on my watch. Not sure I could make a great excuse for that seeing as I'm s'posed to be over there with him."
"Pissing his braies it is!" Carn says brightly. "I can chase him through the woods for you a bit if you like - not too far into them. Herd him like a sheepdog. Maybe it'll make him buck up his ideas a bit."
They look around, thoughtful. "If you tell him you've found something and bring him over I can torment him a little bit. Though I suppose you won't be able to watch and enjoy it if I'm chasing him through the trees, will you?"
Dane snorts a laugh at their enthusiasm, shaking her head. Almost fondly.
"Sure, I could tell him to come over here, but I bet he'd expect me to rescue him from you, even if he didn't wonder why I wasn't being chased myself..." Dane chews her lip as she considers.
Carn can pinpoint the moment the idea comes to her by the look in her eyes. "What if we get close enough to the treeline he can hear me shout for help, but I hide before he gets here? Then you can chase him to your heart's content, and I get to scare him again when he mentions it to me later by pretending I don't know what he's talking about. I didn't call for help at all." A conspiratorial smile spreads across her face. "'n fact, I didn't hear anyone else yell either."
Dane meets their gaze, resisting the urge to instead gaze at them. They're an uncanny sort of pretty.
"Course, I still wouldn't get to watch," she tilts her head just slightly. "So, I guess you'd have to tell me about it some other time"
Carn's grin curls wickedly. Are their teeth just a little too sharp? It's hard to tell, in the dim light. "That sounds perfect," they breathe, staring at her admiringly. "You have a brilliant mind, dearest Ser Vuurgast. Wonderful! Then we have a plan. You'll shout for help, and I'll wait to gently terrorise your hapless coworker. It'll be magnificent!"
They beam at her, pleased. "You'll have to tell me how he reacts when you act like nothing's happened, too. I bet it'll be delicious."
Dane chuckles, allowing herself a moment to bask in the compliment. She's often commended for her strength, or her skill with a blade; it's not nearly so often that she's praised for her mind.
She takes a few steps in the direction of the gates as she scouts for a place to quickly hide in after getting the other knight's attention.
A thick snarl of brambles lies not too far off, earning an appreciative nod. This'll do nicely.
"Deal. But y'know, I do usually like to know what to call someone before I agree to see them again." She gives a crooked grin, "For delicious exchanges or otherwise."
"Oh! I forgot!" They smack their forehead lightly. "Carnelian! You can call me Carnelian. I look forward to further delicious exchanges." They grin at her. "Have fun being bozo-bait."
They slip into their own patch of undergrowth, moving through it suspiciously easily. They'lll choose their moment carefully.
Carnelian. It suits them.
She winks, voice ringing out in the night. "There's definitely something out here! I can take 'em, but be on–" she cuts herself off, putting on what she hopes is a convincing air of alarm. "oh FUCK, get out here!"
She hastens to her hiding spot–if she's crashing through the underbrush she hopes he'll assume it's the sounds of a fight–and nestles quickly among the leaves and vines, sufficiently out of sight.
Quiet. Quiet. Heavy footfalls. He's on his way.
The bozo's path into the woods is as loud and obvious to Carnelian's enhanced senses as if he'd had cowbells tied to every limb. Their grin widens, tongue flickering out to wet their lips, and moves into action.
Sir Bozo crashes into the clearing where they'd been, breathing heavily. "What the fuck? Where's-"
He freezes as a sound rumbles out from the undergrowth - a growl, deep and low, the kind of noise which turns guts to liquid. His panicked gaze flickers over the dark leaves and spots, amongst them, a pair of glowing eyes. He makes a strangled sound, turns to run - and behind him something bursts out of the trees to chase.
The woods are alive with movement, as if an entire pack of monsters is chasing him down - thrashing branches and leaves, the crack of branches and wild movement which suggest huge bodies moving through spaces too small for them. The sounds too come from everywhere, snarling growls chasing the hapless prey onwards, deeper into the dark trees, his fear leaving the stink of itself behind like a beacon to follow.
She peers through the brush, trying her best to watch the commotion, but hearing more than seeing in the darkness.
The snarl seems to vibrate in her chest. What in the hells?
Dane has half a mind to abandon her hiding spot; she has no intention of leaving the man to fend for himself against a large predator, but... the noise seems to be coming from where Carnelian slipped off to. Maybe with all their time in the woods they've learned to mimic animal calls? Could be useful.
Then more. The sounds of leaves rustling and branches snapping in all directions–but something's off.
The back of her neck prickles with unease as much at the wrongness of the sound as her inability to pinpoint it.
There are no footfalls.
Something making that much racket would be big. Heavy. The only actual impact she hears on the ground is paired with the metallic clink clink clink of armor.
All at once it clicks. It's an illusion. Son of a bitch, they have magic.
Carn doesn't even need the stink of Bozo's fear to follow him, but it helps. They herd him skillfully along, carefully positioning the movement of trees and bushes to make sure he doesn't veer off too deep into the woods - just deep enough into the trees that the light is gone.
And then, finally, they herd him out again.
Bozo breaks free of the trees bordering the town again and stumbles with the sudden shock of it, jelly-legged - before booking it back towards the gates with a scream. Back in the treeline, Carn drops out of their shapeshift, breathing heavily and grinning. They can't maintain something that size for very long, but sometimes the effect is worth it. They stretch luxuriously, and then turn to make their way back through the trees towards Dane, whistling cheerfully. It's a good day.
They've moved too far off for Dane to see, but the panicked cry still reaches her ears in the night.
Chuckling, she extracts herself from the brambles and stretches, gauntleted hands pressed to her lower back. She moves to lean against the thick trunk of a nearby tree, awaiting Carnelian's return.
When they find her, she's got her arms crossed, shaking her head as if prepared to scold them, but there's no malice behind her eyes—a grin creeps across her face as they draw nearer. She laughs, "One of these days I'll remember a lack of steel doesn't mean a lack of power."
They grin. "Oh, decidedly not. I'm not sure if he literally pissed himself or not, but it was close. A little dribble at minimum." They smirk. "You'll have to tell me what his face looks like when you tell him you weren't there and heard nothing."
Now that the immediate window for mischief has close, they eye her lazily up and down, mimicking her posture against a tree, arms folded. "So, Ser Vuurgast. What now?"
"Good enough for me!" She snorts a laugh "If he's embarrassed enough he won't mention too many details to anyone else. Including how long I've been away from my post."
She holds up a hand as if swearing an oath, but doesn't adjust her relaxed posture. "You have my word, you'll hear every detail."
Dane doesn't squirm under their gaze as some would, just lets them look, watching their face as she waits for eye contact to return. "Mm. Dunno." She smirks, a crooked sort of thing, eyes half-lidded. "What's a pretty thing like you usually do when they find themselves alone with someone in the woods? When you aren't scaring the piss out of 'em, that is."
"Depends if the other person is also a pretty thing," Carn says, with a grin. They stroll forwards to loop their arms lazily around her neck - no attempt to play coy here. "And then I like getting creative. Though if you don't know what you want to do..." They give an exaggerated shrug, pulling away again.
Dane hums appreciatively at the proximity, eyes flicking just briefly to Carnelian's lips as they speak.
They smell of summer. Bright and warm at once. Almost like wassail.
She rolls her eyes at the jest, but grins, voice dipping once again to a low, smoky timbre. "You didn't ask what I wanted, Carnelian. You asked what's next."
"Well then, shall I try again? What do you want, Ser Vuurgast?" Their tongue flickers out to wet their lips, swaying back towards her once again. This time they press themself against her properly, grinning. "I thought perhaps you might not know that, either."
She chuckles, low and warm in her throat.
Her hands move to grip their waist as if on instinct as Carnelian closes the distance, thumbs rubbing slow circles on their hip bones.
"I want what I always want..." she tips her head, her lips just brushing theirs as her volume falls to a murmur, "you wanna see how good you can feel too?"
"Always," they murmur, breath warm against her lips.
They press forward slightly, chasing the kiss - slow at first, then more eagerly, hungry to taste her mouth. There's a simplicity in this which they enjoy; it's just about feeling good. That's simple. That's easy. That's fun.
"Much as I love the armour, you're wearing too much of it," they mumble into her mouth. Thankfully, steel doesn't affect them in the same way as cold iron does. It is still in the way of their hands, though.
She smiles through the kiss, mirroring the shift in intensity–all lips and tongue and teeth. It's good to just feel. To make someone feel.
"Mm– 's that right?" Dane takes the opportunity presented by the separation of their lips to kiss the corner of Carnelian's mouth, his jaw, just below his ear. Behind their back she's pulling at her gauntlet straps, loosening them enough to extract her hands.
With their newfound freedom, her hands run up the lean length of his back. She murmurs "what if i don't wanna stop touching you?"
A teasing nip at his neck—Carn can feel the smirk against their skin as she contradicts herself by continuing on with unbuckling her armor.
They arch approvingly into her touch, a sound rather like a purr escaping them. "Then you should hurry up with the de-armouring so I can touch you too," they demand, squirming at the nip. "Much as I do agree that I am wonderful to touch, and I entirely understand the desire to get distracted by me..."
They're not helping, though, crowding her backwards towards the tree, pressing themself closer. They kiss her again, humming approvingly into her mouth as their hands roam, ready to move in as soon as the armour is out of the way.
She huffs a laugh, breath fanning over the skin of their throat. "Impatient are we?"
Fortunately, she's been doing this for a long time, and without a squire for much of it.
She leans into the kiss, indulgently slow, as deft fingers work to release various clasps and ties.
It's not terribly long before she's down to her arming doublet and breeches, having shed each piece of her armor onto the forest floor in turn.
Her hands slip between the two of them, splayed against his front as they glide upward to his shoulders, pushing him to lean back just slightly so she can see his face when she grins, "Better?"
As soon as she's free from the armour Carn pounces. It's still difficult to feel much through the thick fabric of the arming doublet but they're trying, hauling her against them. They can at the very least feel the warmth of her body now - the rough shape of her as a full, living body.
"Better," they agree, grinning at her as she pushes him back. "My layers are rather less layered than yours." A silk shirt and fine cotton trousers, the silk a deep saffron. It leaves very little to the imagination, at least when the luxury of touch is involved. "Clearly you're a wonderful gift, that you need so much unwrapping."
She barks a laugh. "Or a pain in the ass, that it should take so long."
Their lips meet again, and she snakes one hand around to the middle of their back, the whisper-thin silk of his shirt smooth beneath her fingertips.
Her other hand comes to rest on the side of their neck, thumb just brushing the corner of their jaw as she pulls back to meet their gaze.
A charged moment of silence as she seems to search his eyes... then a wicked grin tugs at her lips.
In one fluid motion, she steps across him, easily pivoting the both of them around to cage him in, his back against the tree trunk this time, her thigh slotting between his legs.
"I do tend to agree with you though," her lips brush the shell of their ear—voice dark with want, "This is much better." Reluctantly, she pulls away just enough to begin undoing the ties down the front of her doublet.
They let out a surprised huff of air as their back smacks into the tree, but grin lasciviously. They begin to grind themself slowly against her thigh as they watch her undress. "Lucky me, front row seats to the strip show," they say with a filthy grin.
They're not exactly helping, reaching around to grab twin handfuls of her ass through her breeches, kneading the muscles and using the grip to pull her harder into them. "Mmm... damn. Better than front row seats..."
A small sound leaves Dane's lips at the contact. At the heat of his hands—stronger than she'd anticipated.
Her eyes are roving over Carnelian as she shucks the arming doublet. "Fucking hells," she curses under her breath, frustrated at the need to tug yet another layer, in the form of a thin shirt, over her head.
That out of the way, there's only a wide band of linen left around her breasts, a narrow ribbon wound through eyelets on one side to keep it in place.
Her hands alight on his waist, not to aid or to hinder, just to appreciate the sinuous roll of their hips. Lips find his neck again, slow and warm, drifting toward his collarbone. She hooks two fingers under the neckline of his shirt and tugs slightly. "You're turn gorgeous," she chuckles against their skin, "you gotta let go of my ass anyway if you want the breeches off."
"But I don't wanna let go of your ass," they gripe, not entirely serious. They do let go though, yanking off the silk shirt and dropping it carelessly to the ground. Bared like this, they're a confection of a creature - nipples pierced with gold, a metallic lustre decorating their skin. They grin at her, sliding their hands up her stomach. "Nice tattoos. 'Bad company'? Good to be forewarned."
She huffs a laugh, taking the moment they're removing their shirt to extract herself from between his thighs and rid herself of her breeches.
A pleasant, anticipatory shiver zips through her, skin prickling with gooseflesh at their touch. Swiftly she's back upon him, hands wandering the newly exposed skin. A thumb glides firmly, but not roughly, over one pierced nipple. "Mm.. how 'bout for now I let you be the judge of that?"
They bite their lip, grinning lazily as they press into her touch. "Mm. I'm a very good judge of whether or not someone's bad company, it's true."
They unlace their own trousers, having to wriggle a little to get out of the tightly tailored fabric - not enormously dignified, but sacrifices must be made in order to display their ass at its best advantage.
"Yea?" She rasps while impatient hands roam up his thighs, thumbs kneading into the soft crease between leg and pelvis.
She had no room to tease for any awkwardness in disrobing for as long as she just spent scattering bits of armor on the ground.
Teeth skate against their throat, hot breath fanning over their jaw. "How're you judging me for the moment then?"
They actually moan a little at the touch of teeth, tilting their head to give her better access. "Delicious company," they mumble. "Much recommended." They kick off the trousers impatiently and immediately grab for her ass again, kneading the muscles there. "Fuck, you feel good. All this muscle, damn..."
Dane smiles sinfully against their skin at the sound, tucking the information into her metaphorical back pocket.
Preening under the praise, she nips at his collarbone, thumbs still working firm circles at his hips. "Mn. You're so- fuck, I wanna take you apart."
She's lost in it now, practically vibrating at the feel, the scent, the taste of it all— the desire to ruin them both.
They laugh breathlessly. "Do it," they challenge, grinning. "Bet you can't."
Despite the words, they press closer to her, breath heavy and shaky. They're hard enough by now that it's making them feel a little unsteady. "Uh." Wait, does she want them to have a cock? Maybe they should have checked. But now it feels like it would be an awkward time to introduce that particular question...
She thrills at the challenge, "Oh?" Her voice low, dangerous. "You don't think so?"
Her knees hit the ground so hard Carnelian has to imagine it hurt, but she barely notices. She considers for an amused moment he might not have expected this of her.
Warm hands find his hips again, pressing him firmly against the tree at his back as a silent stay, and, slowly—frustratingly slowly; she's fighting to stay focused in spite of the heat of want between her legs— she's mouthing up his thighs.
Just a handsbreadth shy of where she's sure they'd really like her mouth to be, she laves her tongue over the thin skin of his inner thigh, looks up at them through her eyelashes, and bites.
"Gnhh-!"
They so nearly lose it right there and then, hips jerking involuntarily upwards. They press themselves back against the tree, panting as they try to pull themselves back under control. "F-fuck," they manage dazedly. "Do that - do that again." They reach down to grip the base of their cock hard, trying to keep themself under control.
Dane chuckles darky, pulling back just enough to look Carnelian in the eye, and– oh. He was a sight; sinful with those oddly fiery eyes blown black with desire.
She makes strangled sort of sound, acutely aware of her own arousal, but fuck she needed to pull that noise out of him again.
She presses forward, mouthing at the thin skin just to the right of his cock, feeling the heat of his skin on her cheek as her nose brushes his fingertips. "If I do," her voice comes out hoarse; gods but she must look just as affected, "you still gonna have it in you to fuck me after?"
She grazes her teeth—barely there— against the twin spot of his other thigh as she waits for a reply.
"Hhhahh- fuck, I'm not even sure - but I'll work it out," they pant. "... real risk of me just blowing inside you as soon as I put it in, and that's - not cool, ffuck..."
They bury their free hand in her hair - not trying to control her movements, just holding on. "Very - unf-fair of you, by the way! Making me look like some - quickshot... not my fault you fucking - gods..."
They're barely managing to keep up the banter, cock drooling over their hand despite their best efforts. It twitches hard at the graze of her teeth and they moan hoarsely, smacking their head back against the trunk of the tree behind them.
"Fuck, look at you– mm, why is that kinda hot?" She's not sure if she said that last bit out loud or not. Her eyes flutter and a low groan escapes her lips at the tug of his hand in her hair.
She squeezes her eyes shut for a second, willing herself to stay lucid. "Do I win the bet then?"
Without waiting for a response, she does sink her teeth into the flesh of his thigh, punctuating with an Indulgent, slow suck at the skin there.
They lose it.
If the bite hadn't been enough to send them over the edge, what followed would have been. They come with a strangled moan, inadvertently pressing Dane's head closer, fingers tangled in her hair. His grip on his cock does nothing whatsoever to delay the inevitable - all it does, thanks to the way he's gripping it, is direct the mess over his own abdomen rather than over Dane.
They slump back against the tree, dazed and dripping. "Fuck." Their voice is shaky and slightly awed as they stare down at her.
Dane smiles through the moan that leaves her as Carnelian spills over, fist tight in her hair.
She's doesn't pull back for a second. Nearly delirious with desire, anything she can do to keep the energy, the tension, she's going for it.
She shifts her weight to get her feet beneath her, planting wet open-mouthed kisses from where she began at his thigh, across his abdomen, laving her tongue over a nipple. When she's fully upright again, on admittedly shakey legs, she presses fully against them, lips brushing their ear.
"You– hhm– you wanna answer my question, gorgeous?"
He grabs at her as she makes her way upright, greedy for more touch, more anything - his cock is making a valiant attempt at recovering, his hips still jerking at each new shred of sensation.
"You win," they pant, clutching at her hips. "Fuck. There's no way I could argue otherwise. You win." They drag her into a sloppy, breathless kiss, careless of the mess they're making as they grind themself against her.
"Need to be inside you," they manage as they pull back for a second, before chasing her mouth again.
She leans into their touch, eager for anything he'll give her as long as its more.
Panting into the kiss, she breathes "Mn- so don't–hhah.. don't agrue". Her hands leave his skin, but she doesn't move from his lips. She's unlacing her underthings, letting them fall unceremoniously to her feet. "Can't believe I still– nnh– have these on.
She presses against them again, skin to skin, blissfully bare. "Fuck okay– we need to be horizontal like now.
Carnelian pulls away, looking around - nowhere close looks suitable. With a grumble he stomps his foot on the ground, his magic racing outwards. Thick, green moss blooms a carpet across a nearby patch of ground, thick enough to act as a reasonable cushion for activities. They drag Dane closer, grinning, and flop down on the moss, looking up at her. "How's this?"
Dane huffs out a breath as they land, caging him in with hands on either side of his head. "Again, better." She grins down at them, dark hair falling to frame her face.
She shifts to straddle him, sitting up straight, a slight arch in her back. With their cock trapped between their lower abdomen and the wet heat of her cunt, she experimentally rolls her hips. Once. Twice. An absolutely sinful moan pours from her at the friction.
She might have intended to tease him further, but she's too impatient to draw this out much more. She rises up on her knees enough to reach a hand between her thighs–slick with arousal–and lines him up, hissing at the stretch.
"H-holyshit... s'good," she bites her lip, head tipped back, forcing herself to sink down slowly. "You feel– ngh~"
He groans, trying to resist the urge to just thrust upwards into the hot clasp of her cunt. "Fuck, you're so wet-" He grips her hips, making himself stick to the torturously slow speed she's setting. Once he's all the way in he grinds against her for a moment, panting, before pulling back out again. He sinks back in with a moan. "Fuck... you're going to make me lose my mind..."
Dane only nods in agreement, lips parted, shuddering at the grind of their hips when she hits home.
Adjusted to their size, she sets a steady pace, not so agonizingly slow as before, but indulgent, letting herself savor the drag with every rock of her hips.
A smirk tugs at her lips watching him fight to follow her lead as far as pacing. Bet I can make him lose that fight, too.
"Mm. Good, hhah–" a moan rips from her as she shifts to lean forward to skate both thumbs over his nipples. "Bet you're– ngh, even prettier when you lose control."
"You're - doing this on fucking - purpose," they pant, hips jerking. "Fuck."
But that had sounded like a challenge.
Gripping her hips, they brace themself, beginning to fuck upwards into her with more intent now, no longer trying to match her pace. The filthy wet slap of flesh on flesh is loud amidst the quiet trees, and they love it - nothing courtly or civilised about any of this. It's perfect.
"Make that sound again," they pant, driving harder into her. "Moan for me. Let's hear you."
"Ah– s'what ‐ if I am?"
Dane might've laughed at the ease of it—of getting her way—but holy shit, fuck yes, was the hot, blunt slide of surrender beyond blissful.
She keens, blunt fingernails carving crescent moons into their shoulders.
"Yessss... gods you're so–" an absolutely undignified and borderline desperate sound wrenches from somewhere deep in her chest. "fFUCK 'm close–"
The bite of her fingernails tears a low sound from them, and they buck harder up into her. "Yes - do it-" They reach to circle her clit with their thumb, watching her face greedily. "Fall apart for me. Your turn, mutt, come for me."
They're not far off either, if they're honest. They would absolutely not have lasted without their first climax.
Earthy scents of oak and dark loam hang thick in the midnight air. The Dusk Watch is a shift that only gets more dull as it goes on—people shuttering their windows before bed mirroring the birds roosting for the night—until all the world is hushed and it's the sentry's duty to resist the gentle lull toward complacency. There are good reasons they're posted in twos. Sir Dead-Weight over there must be half a dozen of them.
For the third time this evening, the absolute lout of a man Dane was paired with leans toward her, brandishing a pair of dice. "All I'm sayin's we could pass the time with a game o' hazard. 's no' my fault if yer afraid to lo–"
She holds up a hand to cut him off, scanning the nearby woods. "Shut the fuck up, will you?" She's sure she heard something; a rustling in the brambles, just out of view. "Probably just a wild animal, but a fight with a damn porcupine beats standing here with you. Mind your post."
She doesn't wait for a reply before stalking forward on light feet, one hand drifting toward the falchion at her hip as she breeches the treeline.
@fae-prince-carnelian
Carnelian is up to mischief. Carnelian is, admittedly, always up to mischief.
Today though, it's harmless. They'd taken a wander through the woods, slightly grumpy, after their little encounter with Sierra, Princess Margaret and the wizard; it didn't feel as everyone had been entirely enchanted by them and that was, obviously, awful. But they were back out in the woods now - their realm - and so that was all fine.
Currently they were up a tree, dangling upside down with knees hooked over the branch above them as they picked idly at a pinecone. They paused, hearing something crashing through undergrowth nearby - big and on the civilisation side. Probably a person. They dropped down and went to investigate, curious.
Oh! Person.
They slink through the brambles, curious; the plants part for them to allow them through.
Dane moves more quietly than most would through the groundcover, but with brambles this thick it's still louder than she'd like.
She pauses, scanning for signs of anything amiss. If there was someone out here, they'd better have a good reason.
Not the best route for a theif to take by far. Too difficult to come back the way they came with arms full of spoils. Could always be a lookout for another sort of crime, though.
There's movement up ahead in the underbrush. No, scratch that, the brush itself is moving. She squints through the murky darkness. There is someone there.
"Speak your name," she rasps, hand ready at the grip of her blade. "I don't like surprises."
In the darkness, Carn grins, muscles bunching slightly. They want to frighten this little - well, not so little - human. They want to see what she does when surprised. They pace smoothly to the side, circling her as they consider.
But she already looks jumpy, and she's holding a sword.
"Oh, I don't share my name with just anyone," they say regardless. "But since you ask... may I have yours?"
And she does startle, just slightly; everything going tense for just a breath before she turns evenly in the direction of the voice.
Hard to make out any detail in the dark. She lifts her visor to give herself a better view of the stranger.
Nothing about them seems to speak of criminal intent - they're not dressed to conceal. Her shoulders drop, relaxing a bit as her eyes flick over his form in search of a weapon and finding none. Her hand doesn't stray from the grip of her own weapon, however. There is something peculiar about this one, she just can't quite place it.
She swallows, and her voice comes out clear; convincingly steady. "It's Vuurgast." Her brow furrows. She's the one who's asking the questions here. "You make a habit of gadding about in the woods in the middle of the night?" She gestures with her right hand, indicating the falchion held loosely in its grasp. "I could have swung at you instead of asking questions."
Carnelian grins. Such a sweetly trusting little human. "Vuurgast." They savour the name for a second, the taste of it on their tongue - a little sweet, a little bitter, something almost earthy about it. Delicious. Theirs, now, not that she knows.
They leave it be. They hold the name within them, now - but it doesn't mean they have to do anything with it, yet.
"I do, actually. I quite like it out here," they answer, motioning around the woods at large. "You seem a little nervous, considering you're also gadding about in the woods in the middle of the night. You seem a bit less comfortable with the idea than I am. And you could have swung at me, but there's quite a lot of plants in the way, right? I bet those aren't good for a blade. The woods is a bad place for a swordfight."
Dane narrows her eyes a touch, unsure if she likes the tone in which her name was spoken back to her.
She tilts her head just slightly, listening not a bit skeptically to their sorely lacking explanation as to their purpose in the forest.
Gesturing to herself—armored and armed, having clearly come from the direction of the Gates—she deadpans, "It is. Kind of my job to be on alert." She shifts her weight, glancing over their shoulder at the trees behind. "Used to spend a lot of time out after dark actually, just never could get used to the quiet of the woods at night. In town if it's this quiet, someone's up to something." Her voice deepens to an almost smoky timbre as she completes the thought. It seems she's still not entirely convinced someone isn't.
Choosing to put that aside for the moment, she pinches the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, sighing, "Woods wouldn't be my first pick for a place to fight, no, but I have a feeling if you were itching to start one," she quirks an eyebrow, "You'd have done it by now, seeing as you've got me here. Alone."
"Maybe it's not a fight I'm itching for," Carnelian says, with a teasing grin. But she's caught their attention now, and they tilt their head, curious. "So towns are noisy, then? It's only suspicious when it's quiet? I mean, that does sort of go for the woods, too. If you can't hear nature something's wrong. What were you doing out after dark, when you used to spend a lot of time out here?"
They wander closer, peering at her with interest - her face is visible with the visor up, and they have no trouble seeing in the dark.
"So you're a guard then? Pretty dedicated to be wandering out here rather than just hiding behind your walls until the trouble comes to you."
Oh? A bold one, they are. Alright. If it's banter, she can play that game.
A smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth. "Getting up to no good, usually."
Then her brow knits together. She's not so distracted by that train of thought as to miss the other implication in their words. "Have you... never been in a town?"
Something softens in her at the almost childlike curiosity in their eyes as they peer at her. She signs internally, this is probably stupid... She reaches up with both hands and removes her helm.
"Mm. Not so much dedicated as annoyed with the dolt they've lumped me in with tonight." She grins roguishly. "Thought you might be a porcupine. Seemed the preferable sort of prick to deal with."
Carn lets out a delighted little bark of laughter. "Maybe you should've sent him after the porcupine instead. But I can see the thinking. What if it had been something bigger than a porcupine and scarier than me?" They raise an eyebrow.
They pause at the question. "I mean, I've been in a town before. But never at night, and never really long enough to take note of how the sounds change. It just seemed always really noisy to me. Just -" They wave their hands vaguely. It's hard to explain how civilisation feels for them - being surrounded by iron has a sensation they can feel in their teeth.
Something occurs to them, and they grin impishly. "Hey. Do you wanna mess with your doltish colleague?"
"Scarier than you? Hmm.." her words dripping with mock-contemplation as she looks them up and down, pretending to evaluate the threat-level for comparison's sake. A crooked smirk plays on her lips, her tongue curling briefly around a canine. "Dunno, you're pretty stunning as it is." The double-meaning of the word toward 'frightening' is a stretch at best, but she tries for it anyway. "B'sides that, if I'd have stayed at my post you'd have had him to talk to instead of me." she huffs a quiet chuckle.
Dane absently runs the hand not occupied holding her helm through her hair, nodding as she listens. Guess being outta your element can be overwhelming in either direction.
She raises her eyebrows. Maybe a bit of a scare would set the man right. "...What did you have in mind?"
Carn's delight this time is even more palpable. "Oh, she flirts! You're definitely preferable to the rumoured bozo. Yeah, I definitely got the better option." They admire her as she runs a hand through her hair, amused.
At the question, they tilt their head, considering. "Depends how mean ya want to be. Are we just giving him a little jolt, or seeing if we can make him piss his braies?"
The corners of her eyes crinkle as her grin stretches across her face. "I wanna say I got the best of three options, but that's probably not too flattering considering your competition. No offense to the porcupine."
She actually laughs at the question. A warm sound from somewhere deep in her chest. "Ehhh, as long as he's not hurt on my watch. Not sure I could make a great excuse for that seeing as I'm s'posed to be over there with him."
"Pissing his braies it is!" Carn says brightly. "I can chase him through the woods for you a bit if you like - not too far into them. Herd him like a sheepdog. Maybe it'll make him buck up his ideas a bit."
They look around, thoughtful. "If you tell him you've found something and bring him over I can torment him a little bit. Though I suppose you won't be able to watch and enjoy it if I'm chasing him through the trees, will you?"
Dane snorts a laugh at their enthusiasm, shaking her head. Almost fondly.
"Sure, I could tell him to come over here, but I bet he'd expect me to rescue him from you, even if he didn't wonder why I wasn't being chased myself..." Dane chews her lip as she considers.
Carn can pinpoint the moment the idea comes to her by the look in her eyes. "What if we get close enough to the treeline he can hear me shout for help, but I hide before he gets here? Then you can chase him to your heart's content, and I get to scare him again when he mentions it to me later by pretending I don't know what he's talking about. I didn't call for help at all." A conspiratorial smile spreads across her face. "'n fact, I didn't hear anyone else yell either."
Dane meets their gaze, resisting the urge to instead gaze at them. They're an uncanny sort of pretty.
"Course, I still wouldn't get to watch," she tilts her head just slightly. "So, I guess you'd have to tell me about it some other time"
Carn's grin curls wickedly. Are their teeth just a little too sharp? It's hard to tell, in the dim light. "That sounds perfect," they breathe, staring at her admiringly. "You have a brilliant mind, dearest Ser Vuurgast. Wonderful! Then we have a plan. You'll shout for help, and I'll wait to gently terrorise your hapless coworker. It'll be magnificent!"
They beam at her, pleased. "You'll have to tell me how he reacts when you act like nothing's happened, too. I bet it'll be delicious."
Dane chuckles, allowing herself a moment to bask in the compliment. She's often commended for her strength, or her skill with a blade; it's not nearly so often that she's praised for her mind.
She takes a few steps in the direction of the gates as she scouts for a place to quickly hide in after getting the other knight's attention.
A thick snarl of brambles lies not too far off, earning an appreciative nod. This'll do nicely.
"Deal. But y'know, I do usually like to know what to call someone before I agree to see them again." She gives a crooked grin, "For delicious exchanges or otherwise."
"Oh! I forgot!" They smack their forehead lightly. "Carnelian! You can call me Carnelian. I look forward to further delicious exchanges." They grin at her. "Have fun being bozo-bait."
They slip into their own patch of undergrowth, moving through it suspiciously easily. They'lll choose their moment carefully.
Carnelian. It suits them.
She winks, voice ringing out in the night. "There's definitely something out here! I can take 'em, but be on–" she cuts herself off, putting on what she hopes is a convincing air of alarm. "oh FUCK, get out here!"
She hastens to her hiding spot–if she's crashing through the underbrush she hopes he'll assume it's the sounds of a fight–and nestles quickly among the leaves and vines, sufficiently out of sight.
Quiet. Quiet. Heavy footfalls. He's on his way.
The bozo's path into the woods is as loud and obvious to Carnelian's enhanced senses as if he'd had cowbells tied to every limb. Their grin widens, tongue flickering out to wet their lips, and moves into action.
Sir Bozo crashes into the clearing where they'd been, breathing heavily. "What the fuck? Where's-"
He freezes as a sound rumbles out from the undergrowth - a growl, deep and low, the kind of noise which turns guts to liquid. His panicked gaze flickers over the dark leaves and spots, amongst them, a pair of glowing eyes. He makes a strangled sound, turns to run - and behind him something bursts out of the trees to chase.
The woods are alive with movement, as if an entire pack of monsters is chasing him down - thrashing branches and leaves, the crack of branches and wild movement which suggest huge bodies moving through spaces too small for them. The sounds too come from everywhere, snarling growls chasing the hapless prey onwards, deeper into the dark trees, his fear leaving the stink of itself behind like a beacon to follow.
She peers through the brush, trying her best to watch the commotion, but hearing more than seeing in the darkness.
The snarl seems to vibrate in her chest. What in the hells?
Dane has half a mind to abandon her hiding spot; she has no intention of leaving the man to fend for himself against a large predator, but... the noise seems to be coming from where Carnelian slipped off to. Maybe with all their time in the woods they've learned to mimic animal calls? Could be useful.
Then more. The sounds of leaves rustling and branches snapping in all directions–but something's off.
The back of her neck prickles with unease as much at the wrongness of the sound as her inability to pinpoint it.
There are no footfalls.
Something making that much racket would be big. Heavy. The only actual impact she hears on the ground is paired with the metallic clink clink clink of armor.
All at once it clicks. It's an illusion. Son of a bitch, they have magic.
Carn doesn't even need the stink of Bozo's fear to follow him, but it helps. They herd him skillfully along, carefully positioning the movement of trees and bushes to make sure he doesn't veer off too deep into the woods - just deep enough into the trees that the light is gone.
And then, finally, they herd him out again.
Bozo breaks free of the trees bordering the town again and stumbles with the sudden shock of it, jelly-legged - before booking it back towards the gates with a scream. Back in the treeline, Carn drops out of their shapeshift, breathing heavily and grinning. They can't maintain something that size for very long, but sometimes the effect is worth it. They stretch luxuriously, and then turn to make their way back through the trees towards Dane, whistling cheerfully. It's a good day.
They've moved too far off for Dane to see, but the panicked cry still reaches her ears in the night.
Chuckling, she extracts herself from the brambles and stretches, gauntleted hands pressed to her lower back. She moves to lean against the thick trunk of a nearby tree, awaiting Carnelian's return.
When they find her, she's got her arms crossed, shaking her head as if prepared to scold them, but there's no malice behind her eyes—a grin creeps across her face as they draw nearer. She laughs, "One of these days I'll remember a lack of steel doesn't mean a lack of power."
They grin. "Oh, decidedly not. I'm not sure if he literally pissed himself or not, but it was close. A little dribble at minimum." They smirk. "You'll have to tell me what his face looks like when you tell him you weren't there and heard nothing."
Now that the immediate window for mischief has close, they eye her lazily up and down, mimicking her posture against a tree, arms folded. "So, Ser Vuurgast. What now?"
"Good enough for me!" She snorts a laugh "If he's embarrassed enough he won't mention too many details to anyone else. Including how long I've been away from my post."
She holds up a hand as if swearing an oath, but doesn't adjust her relaxed posture. "You have my word, you'll hear every detail."
Dane doesn't squirm under their gaze as some would, just lets them look, watching their face as she waits for eye contact to return. "Mm. Dunno." She smirks, a crooked sort of thing, eyes half-lidded. "What's a pretty thing like you usually do when they find themselves alone with someone in the woods? When you aren't scaring the piss out of 'em, that is."
"Depends if the other person is also a pretty thing," Carn says, with a grin. They stroll forwards to loop their arms lazily around her neck - no attempt to play coy here. "And then I like getting creative. Though if you don't know what you want to do..." They give an exaggerated shrug, pulling away again.
Dane hums appreciatively at the proximity, eyes flicking just briefly to Carnelian's lips as they speak.
They smell of summer. Bright and warm at once. Almost like wassail.
She rolls her eyes at the jest, but grins, voice dipping once again to a low, smoky timbre. "You didn't ask what I wanted, Carnelian. You asked what's next."
"Well then, shall I try again? What do you want, Ser Vuurgast?" Their tongue flickers out to wet their lips, swaying back towards her once again. This time they press themself against her properly, grinning. "I thought perhaps you might not know that, either."
She chuckles, low and warm in her throat.
Her hands move to grip their waist as if on instinct as Carnelian closes the distance, thumbs rubbing slow circles on their hip bones.
"I want what I always want..." she tips her head, her lips just brushing theirs as her volume falls to a murmur, "you wanna see how good you can feel too?"
"Always," they murmur, breath warm against her lips.
They press forward slightly, chasing the kiss - slow at first, then more eagerly, hungry to taste her mouth. There's a simplicity in this which they enjoy; it's just about feeling good. That's simple. That's easy. That's fun.
"Much as I love the armour, you're wearing too much of it," they mumble into her mouth. Thankfully, steel doesn't affect them in the same way as cold iron does. It is still in the way of their hands, though.
She smiles through the kiss, mirroring the shift in intensity–all lips and tongue and teeth. It's good to just feel. To make someone feel.
"Mm– 's that right?" Dane takes the opportunity presented by the separation of their lips to kiss the corner of Carnelian's mouth, his jaw, just below his ear. Behind their back she's pulling at her gauntlet straps, loosening them enough to extract her hands.
With their newfound freedom, her hands run up the lean length of his back. She murmurs "what if i don't wanna stop touching you?"
A teasing nip at his neck—Carn can feel the smirk against their skin as she contradicts herself by continuing on with unbuckling her armor.
They arch approvingly into her touch, a sound rather like a purr escaping them. "Then you should hurry up with the de-armouring so I can touch you too," they demand, squirming at the nip. "Much as I do agree that I am wonderful to touch, and I entirely understand the desire to get distracted by me..."
They're not helping, though, crowding her backwards towards the tree, pressing themself closer. They kiss her again, humming approvingly into her mouth as their hands roam, ready to move in as soon as the armour is out of the way.
She huffs a laugh, breath fanning over the skin of their throat. "Impatient are we?"
Fortunately, she's been doing this for a long time, and without a squire for much of it.
She leans into the kiss, indulgently slow, as deft fingers work to release various clasps and ties.
It's not terribly long before she's down to her arming doublet and breeches, having shed each piece of her armor onto the forest floor in turn.
Her hands slip between the two of them, splayed against his front as they glide upward to his shoulders, pushing him to lean back just slightly so she can see his face when she grins, "Better?"
As soon as she's free from the armour Carn pounces. It's still difficult to feel much through the thick fabric of the arming doublet but they're trying, hauling her against them. They can at the very least feel the warmth of her body now - the rough shape of her as a full, living body.
"Better," they agree, grinning at her as she pushes him back. "My layers are rather less layered than yours." A silk shirt and fine cotton trousers, the silk a deep saffron. It leaves very little to the imagination, at least when the luxury of touch is involved. "Clearly you're a wonderful gift, that you need so much unwrapping."
She barks a laugh. "Or a pain in the ass, that it should take so long."
Their lips meet again, and she snakes one hand around to the middle of their back, the whisper-thin silk of his shirt smooth beneath her fingertips.
Her other hand comes to rest on the side of their neck, thumb just brushing the corner of their jaw as she pulls back to meet their gaze.
A charged moment of silence as she seems to search his eyes... then a wicked grin tugs at her lips.
In one fluid motion, she steps across him, easily pivoting the both of them around to cage him in, his back against the tree trunk this time, her thigh slotting between his legs.
"I do tend to agree with you though," her lips brush the shell of their ear—voice dark with want, "This is much better." Reluctantly, she pulls away just enough to begin undoing the ties down the front of her doublet.
They let out a surprised huff of air as their back smacks into the tree, but grin lasciviously. They begin to grind themself slowly against her thigh as they watch her undress. "Lucky me, front row seats to the strip show," they say with a filthy grin.
They're not exactly helping, reaching around to grab twin handfuls of her ass through her breeches, kneading the muscles and using the grip to pull her harder into them. "Mmm... damn. Better than front row seats..."
A small sound leaves Dane's lips at the contact. At the heat of his hands—stronger than she'd anticipated.
Her eyes are roving over Carnelian as she shucks the arming doublet. "Fucking hells," she curses under her breath, frustrated at the need to tug yet another layer, in the form of a thin shirt, over her head.
That out of the way, there's only a wide band of linen left around her breasts, a narrow ribbon wound through eyelets on one side to keep it in place.
Her hands alight on his waist, not to aid or to hinder, just to appreciate the sinuous roll of their hips. Lips find his neck again, slow and warm, drifting toward his collarbone. She hooks two fingers under the neckline of his shirt and tugs slightly. "You're turn gorgeous," she chuckles against their skin, "you gotta let go of my ass anyway if you want the breeches off."
"But I don't wanna let go of your ass," they gripe, not entirely serious. They do let go though, yanking off the silk shirt and dropping it carelessly to the ground. Bared like this, they're a confection of a creature - nipples pierced with gold, a metallic lustre decorating their skin. They grin at her, sliding their hands up her stomach. "Nice tattoos. 'Bad company'? Good to be forewarned."
She huffs a laugh, taking the moment they're removing their shirt to extract herself from between his thighs and rid herself of her breeches.
A pleasant, anticipatory shiver zips through her, skin prickling with gooseflesh at their touch. Swiftly she's back upon him, hands wandering the newly exposed skin. A thumb glides firmly, but not roughly, over one pierced nipple. "Mm.. how 'bout for now I let you be the judge of that?"
They bite their lip, grinning lazily as they press into her touch. "Mm. I'm a very good judge of whether or not someone's bad company, it's true."
They unlace their own trousers, having to wriggle a little to get out of the tightly tailored fabric - not enormously dignified, but sacrifices must be made in order to display their ass at its best advantage.
"Yea?" She rasps while impatient hands roam up his thighs, thumbs kneading into the soft crease between leg and pelvis.
She had no room to tease for any awkwardness in disrobing for as long as she just spent scattering bits of armor on the ground.
Teeth skate against their throat, hot breath fanning over their jaw. "How're you judging me for the moment then?"
They actually moan a little at the touch of teeth, tilting their head to give her better access. "Delicious company," they mumble. "Much recommended." They kick off the trousers impatiently and immediately grab for her ass again, kneading the muscles there. "Fuck, you feel good. All this muscle, damn..."
Dane smiles sinfully against their skin at the sound, tucking the information into her metaphorical back pocket.
Preening under the praise, she nips at his collarbone, thumbs still working firm circles at his hips. "Mn. You're so- fuck, I wanna take you apart."
She's lost in it now, practically vibrating at the feel, the scent, the taste of it all— the desire to ruin them both.
They laugh breathlessly. "Do it," they challenge, grinning. "Bet you can't."
Despite the words, they press closer to her, breath heavy and shaky. They're hard enough by now that it's making them feel a little unsteady. "Uh." Wait, does she want them to have a cock? Maybe they should have checked. But now it feels like it would be an awkward time to introduce that particular question...
She thrills at the challenge, "Oh?" Her voice low, dangerous. "You don't think so?"
Her knees hit the ground so hard Carnelian has to imagine it hurt, but she barely notices. She considers for an amused moment he might not have expected this of her.
Warm hands find his hips again, pressing him firmly against the tree at his back as a silent stay, and, slowly—frustratingly slowly; she's fighting to stay focused in spite of the heat of want between her legs— she's mouthing up his thighs.
Just a handsbreadth shy of where she's sure they'd really like her mouth to be, she laves her tongue over the thin skin of his inner thigh, looks up at them through her eyelashes, and bites.
"Gnhh-!"
They so nearly lose it right there and then, hips jerking involuntarily upwards. They press themselves back against the tree, panting as they try to pull themselves back under control. "F-fuck," they manage dazedly. "Do that - do that again." They reach down to grip the base of their cock hard, trying to keep themself under control.
Dane chuckles darky, pulling back just enough to look Carnelian in the eye, and– oh. He was a sight; sinful with those oddly fiery eyes blown black with desire.
She makes strangled sort of sound, acutely aware of her own arousal, but fuck she needed to pull that noise out of him again.
She presses forward, mouthing at the thin skin just to the right of his cock, feeling the heat of his skin on her cheek as her nose brushes his fingertips. "If I do," her voice comes out hoarse; gods but she must look just as affected, "you still gonna have it in you to fuck me after?"
She grazes her teeth—barely there— against the twin spot of his other thigh as she waits for a reply.
"Hhhahh- fuck, I'm not even sure - but I'll work it out," they pant. "... real risk of me just blowing inside you as soon as I put it in, and that's - not cool, ffuck..."
They bury their free hand in her hair - not trying to control her movements, just holding on. "Very - unf-fair of you, by the way! Making me look like some - quickshot... not my fault you fucking - gods..."
They're barely managing to keep up the banter, cock drooling over their hand despite their best efforts. It twitches hard at the graze of her teeth and they moan hoarsely, smacking their head back against the trunk of the tree behind them.
"Fuck, look at you– mm, why is that kinda hot?" She's not sure if she said that last bit out loud or not. Her eyes flutter and a low groan escapes her lips at the tug of his hand in her hair.
She squeezes her eyes shut for a second, willing herself to stay lucid. "Do I win the bet then?"
Without waiting for a response, she does sink her teeth into the flesh of his thigh, punctuating with an Indulgent, slow suck at the skin there.
They lose it.
If the bite hadn't been enough to send them over the edge, what followed would have been. They come with a strangled moan, inadvertently pressing Dane's head closer, fingers tangled in her hair. His grip on his cock does nothing whatsoever to delay the inevitable - all it does, thanks to the way he's gripping it, is direct the mess over his own abdomen rather than over Dane.
They slump back against the tree, dazed and dripping. "Fuck." Their voice is shaky and slightly awed as they stare down at her.
Dane smiles through the moan that leaves her as Carnelian spills over, fist tight in her hair.
She's doesn't pull back for a second. Nearly delirious with desire, anything she can do to keep the energy, the tension, she's going for it.
She shifts her weight to get her feet beneath her, planting wet open-mouthed kisses from where she began at his thigh, across his abdomen, laving her tongue over a nipple. When she's fully upright again, on admittedly shakey legs, she presses fully against them, lips brushing their ear.
"You– hhm– you wanna answer my question, gorgeous?"
He grabs at her as she makes her way upright, greedy for more touch, more anything - his cock is making a valiant attempt at recovering, his hips still jerking at each new shred of sensation.
"You win," they pant, clutching at her hips. "Fuck. There's no way I could argue otherwise. You win." They drag her into a sloppy, breathless kiss, careless of the mess they're making as they grind themself against her.
"Need to be inside you," they manage as they pull back for a second, before chasing her mouth again.
She leans into their touch, eager for anything he'll give her as long as its more.
Panting into the kiss, she breathes "Mn- so don't–hhah.. don't agrue". Her hands leave his skin, but she doesn't move from his lips. She's unlacing her underthings, letting them fall unceremoniously to her feet. "Can't believe I still– nnh– have these on.
She presses against them again, skin to skin, blissfully bare. "Fuck okay– we need to be horizontal like now.
Carnelian pulls away, looking around - nowhere close looks suitable. With a grumble he stomps his foot on the ground, his magic racing outwards. Thick, green moss blooms a carpet across a nearby patch of ground, thick enough to act as a reasonable cushion for activities. They drag Dane closer, grinning, and flop down on the moss, looking up at her. "How's this?"
Dane huffs out a breath as they land, caging him in with hands on either side of his head. "Again, better." She grins down at them, dark hair falling to frame her face.
She shifts to straddle him, sitting up straight, a slight arch in her back. With their cock trapped between their lower abdomen and the wet heat of her cunt, she experimentally rolls her hips. Once. Twice. An absolutely sinful moan pours from her at the friction.
She might have intended to tease him further, but she's too impatient to draw this out much more. She rises up on her knees enough to reach a hand between her thighs–slick with arousal–and lines him up, hissing at the stretch.
"H-holyshit... s'good," she bites her lip, head tipped back, forcing herself to sink down slowly. "You feel– ngh~"
He groans, trying to resist the urge to just thrust upwards into the hot clasp of her cunt. "Fuck, you're so wet-" He grips her hips, making himself stick to the torturously slow speed she's setting. Once he's all the way in he grinds against her for a moment, panting, before pulling back out again. He sinks back in with a moan. "Fuck... you're going to make me lose my mind..."
Dane only nods in agreement, lips parted, shuddering at the grind of their hips when she hits home.
Adjusted to their size, she sets a steady pace, not so agonizingly slow as before, but indulgent, letting herself savor the drag with every rock of her hips.
A smirk tugs at her lips watching him fight to follow her lead as far as pacing. Bet I can make him lose that fight, too.
"Mm. Good, hhah–" a moan rips from her as she shifts to lean forward to skate both thumbs over his nipples. "Bet you're– ngh, even prettier when you lose control."
"You're - doing this on fucking - purpose," they pant, hips jerking. "Fuck."
But that had sounded like a challenge.
Gripping her hips, they brace themself, beginning to fuck upwards into her with more intent now, no longer trying to match her pace. The filthy wet slap of flesh on flesh is loud amidst the quiet trees, and they love it - nothing courtly or civilised about any of this. It's perfect.
"Make that sound again," they pant, driving harder into her. "Moan for me. Let's hear you."
Earthy scents of oak and dark loam hang thick in the midnight air. The Dusk Watch is a shift that only gets more dull as it goes on—people shuttering their windows before bed mirroring the birds roosting for the night—until all the world is hushed and it's the sentry's duty to resist the gentle lull toward complacency. There are good reasons they're posted in twos. Sir Dead-Weight over there must be half a dozen of them.
For the third time this evening, the absolute lout of a man Dane was paired with leans toward her, brandishing a pair of dice. "All I'm sayin's we could pass the time with a game o' hazard. 's no' my fault if yer afraid to lo–"
She holds up a hand to cut him off, scanning the nearby woods. "Shut the fuck up, will you?" She's sure she heard something; a rustling in the brambles, just out of view. "Probably just a wild animal, but a fight with a damn porcupine beats standing here with you. Mind your post."
She doesn't wait for a reply before stalking forward on light feet, one hand drifting toward the falchion at her hip as she breeches the treeline.
@fae-prince-carnelian
Carnelian is up to mischief. Carnelian is, admittedly, always up to mischief.
Today though, it's harmless. They'd taken a wander through the woods, slightly grumpy, after their little encounter with Sierra, Princess Margaret and the wizard; it didn't feel as everyone had been entirely enchanted by them and that was, obviously, awful. But they were back out in the woods now - their realm - and so that was all fine.
Currently they were up a tree, dangling upside down with knees hooked over the branch above them as they picked idly at a pinecone. They paused, hearing something crashing through undergrowth nearby - big and on the civilisation side. Probably a person. They dropped down and went to investigate, curious.
Oh! Person.
They slink through the brambles, curious; the plants part for them to allow them through.
Dane moves more quietly than most would through the groundcover, but with brambles this thick it's still louder than she'd like.
She pauses, scanning for signs of anything amiss. If there was someone out here, they'd better have a good reason.
Not the best route for a theif to take by far. Too difficult to come back the way they came with arms full of spoils. Could always be a lookout for another sort of crime, though.
There's movement up ahead in the underbrush. No, scratch that, the brush itself is moving. She squints through the murky darkness. There is someone there.
"Speak your name," she rasps, hand ready at the grip of her blade. "I don't like surprises."
In the darkness, Carn grins, muscles bunching slightly. They want to frighten this little - well, not so little - human. They want to see what she does when surprised. They pace smoothly to the side, circling her as they consider.
But she already looks jumpy, and she's holding a sword.
"Oh, I don't share my name with just anyone," they say regardless. "But since you ask... may I have yours?"
And she does startle, just slightly; everything going tense for just a breath before she turns evenly in the direction of the voice.
Hard to make out any detail in the dark. She lifts her visor to give herself a better view of the stranger.
Nothing about them seems to speak of criminal intent - they're not dressed to conceal. Her shoulders drop, relaxing a bit as her eyes flick over his form in search of a weapon and finding none. Her hand doesn't stray from the grip of her own weapon, however. There is something peculiar about this one, she just can't quite place it.
She swallows, and her voice comes out clear; convincingly steady. "It's Vuurgast." Her brow furrows. She's the one who's asking the questions here. "You make a habit of gadding about in the woods in the middle of the night?" She gestures with her right hand, indicating the falchion held loosely in its grasp. "I could have swung at you instead of asking questions."
Carnelian grins. Such a sweetly trusting little human. "Vuurgast." They savour the name for a second, the taste of it on their tongue - a little sweet, a little bitter, something almost earthy about it. Delicious. Theirs, now, not that she knows.
They leave it be. They hold the name within them, now - but it doesn't mean they have to do anything with it, yet.
"I do, actually. I quite like it out here," they answer, motioning around the woods at large. "You seem a little nervous, considering you're also gadding about in the woods in the middle of the night. You seem a bit less comfortable with the idea than I am. And you could have swung at me, but there's quite a lot of plants in the way, right? I bet those aren't good for a blade. The woods is a bad place for a swordfight."
Dane narrows her eyes a touch, unsure if she likes the tone in which her name was spoken back to her.
She tilts her head just slightly, listening not a bit skeptically to their sorely lacking explanation as to their purpose in the forest.
Gesturing to herself—armored and armed, having clearly come from the direction of the Gates—she deadpans, "It is. Kind of my job to be on alert." She shifts her weight, glancing over their shoulder at the trees behind. "Used to spend a lot of time out after dark actually, just never could get used to the quiet of the woods at night. In town if it's this quiet, someone's up to something." Her voice deepens to an almost smoky timbre as she completes the thought. It seems she's still not entirely convinced someone isn't.
Choosing to put that aside for the moment, she pinches the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, sighing, "Woods wouldn't be my first pick for a place to fight, no, but I have a feeling if you were itching to start one," she quirks an eyebrow, "You'd have done it by now, seeing as you've got me here. Alone."
"Maybe it's not a fight I'm itching for," Carnelian says, with a teasing grin. But she's caught their attention now, and they tilt their head, curious. "So towns are noisy, then? It's only suspicious when it's quiet? I mean, that does sort of go for the woods, too. If you can't hear nature something's wrong. What were you doing out after dark, when you used to spend a lot of time out here?"
They wander closer, peering at her with interest - her face is visible with the visor up, and they have no trouble seeing in the dark.
"So you're a guard then? Pretty dedicated to be wandering out here rather than just hiding behind your walls until the trouble comes to you."
Oh? A bold one, they are. Alright. If it's banter, she can play that game.
A smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth. "Getting up to no good, usually."
Then her brow knits together. She's not so distracted by that train of thought as to miss the other implication in their words. "Have you... never been in a town?"
Something softens in her at the almost childlike curiosity in their eyes as they peer at her. She signs internally, this is probably stupid... She reaches up with both hands and removes her helm.
"Mm. Not so much dedicated as annoyed with the dolt they've lumped me in with tonight." She grins roguishly. "Thought you might be a porcupine. Seemed the preferable sort of prick to deal with."
Carn lets out a delighted little bark of laughter. "Maybe you should've sent him after the porcupine instead. But I can see the thinking. What if it had been something bigger than a porcupine and scarier than me?" They raise an eyebrow.
They pause at the question. "I mean, I've been in a town before. But never at night, and never really long enough to take note of how the sounds change. It just seemed always really noisy to me. Just -" They wave their hands vaguely. It's hard to explain how civilisation feels for them - being surrounded by iron has a sensation they can feel in their teeth.
Something occurs to them, and they grin impishly. "Hey. Do you wanna mess with your doltish colleague?"
"Scarier than you? Hmm.." her words dripping with mock-contemplation as she looks them up and down, pretending to evaluate the threat-level for comparison's sake. A crooked smirk plays on her lips, her tongue curling briefly around a canine. "Dunno, you're pretty stunning as it is." The double-meaning of the word toward 'frightening' is a stretch at best, but she tries for it anyway. "B'sides that, if I'd have stayed at my post you'd have had him to talk to instead of me." she huffs a quiet chuckle.
Dane absently runs the hand not occupied holding her helm through her hair, nodding as she listens. Guess being outta your element can be overwhelming in either direction.
She raises her eyebrows. Maybe a bit of a scare would set the man right. "...What did you have in mind?"
Carn's delight this time is even more palpable. "Oh, she flirts! You're definitely preferable to the rumoured bozo. Yeah, I definitely got the better option." They admire her as she runs a hand through her hair, amused.
At the question, they tilt their head, considering. "Depends how mean ya want to be. Are we just giving him a little jolt, or seeing if we can make him piss his braies?"
The corners of her eyes crinkle as her grin stretches across her face. "I wanna say I got the best of three options, but that's probably not too flattering considering your competition. No offense to the porcupine."
She actually laughs at the question. A warm sound from somewhere deep in her chest. "Ehhh, as long as he's not hurt on my watch. Not sure I could make a great excuse for that seeing as I'm s'posed to be over there with him."
"Pissing his braies it is!" Carn says brightly. "I can chase him through the woods for you a bit if you like - not too far into them. Herd him like a sheepdog. Maybe it'll make him buck up his ideas a bit."
They look around, thoughtful. "If you tell him you've found something and bring him over I can torment him a little bit. Though I suppose you won't be able to watch and enjoy it if I'm chasing him through the trees, will you?"
Dane snorts a laugh at their enthusiasm, shaking her head. Almost fondly.
"Sure, I could tell him to come over here, but I bet he'd expect me to rescue him from you, even if he didn't wonder why I wasn't being chased myself..." Dane chews her lip as she considers.
Carn can pinpoint the moment the idea comes to her by the look in her eyes. "What if we get close enough to the treeline he can hear me shout for help, but I hide before he gets here? Then you can chase him to your heart's content, and I get to scare him again when he mentions it to me later by pretending I don't know what he's talking about. I didn't call for help at all." A conspiratorial smile spreads across her face. "'n fact, I didn't hear anyone else yell either."
Dane meets their gaze, resisting the urge to instead gaze at them. They're an uncanny sort of pretty.
"Course, I still wouldn't get to watch," she tilts her head just slightly. "So, I guess you'd have to tell me about it some other time"
Carn's grin curls wickedly. Are their teeth just a little too sharp? It's hard to tell, in the dim light. "That sounds perfect," they breathe, staring at her admiringly. "You have a brilliant mind, dearest Ser Vuurgast. Wonderful! Then we have a plan. You'll shout for help, and I'll wait to gently terrorise your hapless coworker. It'll be magnificent!"
They beam at her, pleased. "You'll have to tell me how he reacts when you act like nothing's happened, too. I bet it'll be delicious."
Dane chuckles, allowing herself a moment to bask in the compliment. She's often commended for her strength, or her skill with a blade; it's not nearly so often that she's praised for her mind.
She takes a few steps in the direction of the gates as she scouts for a place to quickly hide in after getting the other knight's attention.
A thick snarl of brambles lies not too far off, earning an appreciative nod. This'll do nicely.
"Deal. But y'know, I do usually like to know what to call someone before I agree to see them again." She gives a crooked grin, "For delicious exchanges or otherwise."
"Oh! I forgot!" They smack their forehead lightly. "Carnelian! You can call me Carnelian. I look forward to further delicious exchanges." They grin at her. "Have fun being bozo-bait."
They slip into their own patch of undergrowth, moving through it suspiciously easily. They'lll choose their moment carefully.
Carnelian. It suits them.
She winks, voice ringing out in the night. "There's definitely something out here! I can take 'em, but be on–" she cuts herself off, putting on what she hopes is a convincing air of alarm. "oh FUCK, get out here!"
She hastens to her hiding spot–if she's crashing through the underbrush she hopes he'll assume it's the sounds of a fight–and nestles quickly among the leaves and vines, sufficiently out of sight.
Quiet. Quiet. Heavy footfalls. He's on his way.
The bozo's path into the woods is as loud and obvious to Carnelian's enhanced senses as if he'd had cowbells tied to every limb. Their grin widens, tongue flickering out to wet their lips, and moves into action.
Sir Bozo crashes into the clearing where they'd been, breathing heavily. "What the fuck? Where's-"
He freezes as a sound rumbles out from the undergrowth - a growl, deep and low, the kind of noise which turns guts to liquid. His panicked gaze flickers over the dark leaves and spots, amongst them, a pair of glowing eyes. He makes a strangled sound, turns to run - and behind him something bursts out of the trees to chase.
The woods are alive with movement, as if an entire pack of monsters is chasing him down - thrashing branches and leaves, the crack of branches and wild movement which suggest huge bodies moving through spaces too small for them. The sounds too come from everywhere, snarling growls chasing the hapless prey onwards, deeper into the dark trees, his fear leaving the stink of itself behind like a beacon to follow.
She peers through the brush, trying her best to watch the commotion, but hearing more than seeing in the darkness.
The snarl seems to vibrate in her chest. What in the hells?
Dane has half a mind to abandon her hiding spot; she has no intention of leaving the man to fend for himself against a large predator, but... the noise seems to be coming from where Carnelian slipped off to. Maybe with all their time in the woods they've learned to mimic animal calls? Could be useful.
Then more. The sounds of leaves rustling and branches snapping in all directions–but something's off.
The back of her neck prickles with unease as much at the wrongness of the sound as her inability to pinpoint it.
There are no footfalls.
Something making that much racket would be big. Heavy. The only actual impact she hears on the ground is paired with the metallic clink clink clink of armor.
All at once it clicks. It's an illusion. Son of a bitch, they have magic.
Carn doesn't even need the stink of Bozo's fear to follow him, but it helps. They herd him skillfully along, carefully positioning the movement of trees and bushes to make sure he doesn't veer off too deep into the woods - just deep enough into the trees that the light is gone.
And then, finally, they herd him out again.
Bozo breaks free of the trees bordering the town again and stumbles with the sudden shock of it, jelly-legged - before booking it back towards the gates with a scream. Back in the treeline, Carn drops out of their shapeshift, breathing heavily and grinning. They can't maintain something that size for very long, but sometimes the effect is worth it. They stretch luxuriously, and then turn to make their way back through the trees towards Dane, whistling cheerfully. It's a good day.
They've moved too far off for Dane to see, but the panicked cry still reaches her ears in the night.
Chuckling, she extracts herself from the brambles and stretches, gauntleted hands pressed to her lower back. She moves to lean against the thick trunk of a nearby tree, awaiting Carnelian's return.
When they find her, she's got her arms crossed, shaking her head as if prepared to scold them, but there's no malice behind her eyes—a grin creeps across her face as they draw nearer. She laughs, "One of these days I'll remember a lack of steel doesn't mean a lack of power."
They grin. "Oh, decidedly not. I'm not sure if he literally pissed himself or not, but it was close. A little dribble at minimum." They smirk. "You'll have to tell me what his face looks like when you tell him you weren't there and heard nothing."
Now that the immediate window for mischief has close, they eye her lazily up and down, mimicking her posture against a tree, arms folded. "So, Ser Vuurgast. What now?"
"Good enough for me!" She snorts a laugh "If he's embarrassed enough he won't mention too many details to anyone else. Including how long I've been away from my post."
She holds up a hand as if swearing an oath, but doesn't adjust her relaxed posture. "You have my word, you'll hear every detail."
Dane doesn't squirm under their gaze as some would, just lets them look, watching their face as she waits for eye contact to return. "Mm. Dunno." She smirks, a crooked sort of thing, eyes half-lidded. "What's a pretty thing like you usually do when they find themselves alone with someone in the woods? When you aren't scaring the piss out of 'em, that is."
"Depends if the other person is also a pretty thing," Carn says, with a grin. They stroll forwards to loop their arms lazily around her neck - no attempt to play coy here. "And then I like getting creative. Though if you don't know what you want to do..." They give an exaggerated shrug, pulling away again.
Dane hums appreciatively at the proximity, eyes flicking just briefly to Carnelian's lips as they speak.
They smell of summer. Bright and warm at once. Almost like wassail.
She rolls her eyes at the jest, but grins, voice dipping once again to a low, smoky timbre. "You didn't ask what I wanted, Carnelian. You asked what's next."
"Well then, shall I try again? What do you want, Ser Vuurgast?" Their tongue flickers out to wet their lips, swaying back towards her once again. This time they press themself against her properly, grinning. "I thought perhaps you might not know that, either."
She chuckles, low and warm in her throat.
Her hands move to grip their waist as if on instinct as Carnelian closes the distance, thumbs rubbing slow circles on their hip bones.
"I want what I always want..." she tips her head, her lips just brushing theirs as her volume falls to a murmur, "you wanna see how good you can feel too?"
"Always," they murmur, breath warm against her lips.
They press forward slightly, chasing the kiss - slow at first, then more eagerly, hungry to taste her mouth. There's a simplicity in this which they enjoy; it's just about feeling good. That's simple. That's easy. That's fun.
"Much as I love the armour, you're wearing too much of it," they mumble into her mouth. Thankfully, steel doesn't affect them in the same way as cold iron does. It is still in the way of their hands, though.
She smiles through the kiss, mirroring the shift in intensity–all lips and tongue and teeth. It's good to just feel. To make someone feel.
"Mm– 's that right?" Dane takes the opportunity presented by the separation of their lips to kiss the corner of Carnelian's mouth, his jaw, just below his ear. Behind their back she's pulling at her gauntlet straps, loosening them enough to extract her hands.
With their newfound freedom, her hands run up the lean length of his back. She murmurs "what if i don't wanna stop touching you?"
A teasing nip at his neck—Carn can feel the smirk against their skin as she contradicts herself by continuing on with unbuckling her armor.
They arch approvingly into her touch, a sound rather like a purr escaping them. "Then you should hurry up with the de-armouring so I can touch you too," they demand, squirming at the nip. "Much as I do agree that I am wonderful to touch, and I entirely understand the desire to get distracted by me..."
They're not helping, though, crowding her backwards towards the tree, pressing themself closer. They kiss her again, humming approvingly into her mouth as their hands roam, ready to move in as soon as the armour is out of the way.
She huffs a laugh, breath fanning over the skin of their throat. "Impatient are we?"
Fortunately, she's been doing this for a long time, and without a squire for much of it.
She leans into the kiss, indulgently slow, as deft fingers work to release various clasps and ties.
It's not terribly long before she's down to her arming doublet and breeches, having shed each piece of her armor onto the forest floor in turn.
Her hands slip between the two of them, splayed against his front as they glide upward to his shoulders, pushing him to lean back just slightly so she can see his face when she grins, "Better?"
As soon as she's free from the armour Carn pounces. It's still difficult to feel much through the thick fabric of the arming doublet but they're trying, hauling her against them. They can at the very least feel the warmth of her body now - the rough shape of her as a full, living body.
"Better," they agree, grinning at her as she pushes him back. "My layers are rather less layered than yours." A silk shirt and fine cotton trousers, the silk a deep saffron. It leaves very little to the imagination, at least when the luxury of touch is involved. "Clearly you're a wonderful gift, that you need so much unwrapping."
She barks a laugh. "Or a pain in the ass, that it should take so long."
Their lips meet again, and she snakes one hand around to the middle of their back, the whisper-thin silk of his shirt smooth beneath her fingertips.
Her other hand comes to rest on the side of their neck, thumb just brushing the corner of their jaw as she pulls back to meet their gaze.
A charged moment of silence as she seems to search his eyes... then a wicked grin tugs at her lips.
In one fluid motion, she steps across him, easily pivoting the both of them around to cage him in, his back against the tree trunk this time, her thigh slotting between his legs.
"I do tend to agree with you though," her lips brush the shell of their ear—voice dark with want, "This is much better." Reluctantly, she pulls away just enough to begin undoing the ties down the front of her doublet.
They let out a surprised huff of air as their back smacks into the tree, but grin lasciviously. They begin to grind themself slowly against her thigh as they watch her undress. "Lucky me, front row seats to the strip show," they say with a filthy grin.
They're not exactly helping, reaching around to grab twin handfuls of her ass through her breeches, kneading the muscles and using the grip to pull her harder into them. "Mmm... damn. Better than front row seats..."
A small sound leaves Dane's lips at the contact. At the heat of his hands—stronger than she'd anticipated.
Her eyes are roving over Carnelian as she shucks the arming doublet. "Fucking hells," she curses under her breath, frustrated at the need to tug yet another layer, in the form of a thin shirt, over her head.
That out of the way, there's only a wide band of linen left around her breasts, a narrow ribbon wound through eyelets on one side to keep it in place.
Her hands alight on his waist, not to aid or to hinder, just to appreciate the sinuous roll of their hips. Lips find his neck again, slow and warm, drifting toward his collarbone. She hooks two fingers under the neckline of his shirt and tugs slightly. "You're turn gorgeous," she chuckles against their skin, "you gotta let go of my ass anyway if you want the breeches off."
"But I don't wanna let go of your ass," they gripe, not entirely serious. They do let go though, yanking off the silk shirt and dropping it carelessly to the ground. Bared like this, they're a confection of a creature - nipples pierced with gold, a metallic lustre decorating their skin. They grin at her, sliding their hands up her stomach. "Nice tattoos. 'Bad company'? Good to be forewarned."
She huffs a laugh, taking the moment they're removing their shirt to extract herself from between his thighs and rid herself of her breeches.
A pleasant, anticipatory shiver zips through her, skin prickling with gooseflesh at their touch. Swiftly she's back upon him, hands wandering the newly exposed skin. A thumb glides firmly, but not roughly, over one pierced nipple. "Mm.. how 'bout for now I let you be the judge of that?"
They bite their lip, grinning lazily as they press into her touch. "Mm. I'm a very good judge of whether or not someone's bad company, it's true."
They unlace their own trousers, having to wriggle a little to get out of the tightly tailored fabric - not enormously dignified, but sacrifices must be made in order to display their ass at its best advantage.
"Yea?" She rasps while impatient hands roam up his thighs, thumbs kneading into the soft crease between leg and pelvis.
She had no room to tease for any awkwardness in disrobing for as long as she just spent scattering bits of armor on the ground.
Teeth skate against their throat, hot breath fanning over their jaw. "How're you judging me for the moment then?"
They actually moan a little at the touch of teeth, tilting their head to give her better access. "Delicious company," they mumble. "Much recommended." They kick off the trousers impatiently and immediately grab for her ass again, kneading the muscles there. "Fuck, you feel good. All this muscle, damn..."
Dane smiles sinfully against their skin at the sound, tucking the information into her metaphorical back pocket.
Preening under the praise, she nips at his collarbone, thumbs still working firm circles at his hips. "Mn. You're so- fuck, I wanna take you apart."
She's lost in it now, practically vibrating at the feel, the scent, the taste of it all— the desire to ruin them both.
They laugh breathlessly. "Do it," they challenge, grinning. "Bet you can't."
Despite the words, they press closer to her, breath heavy and shaky. They're hard enough by now that it's making them feel a little unsteady. "Uh." Wait, does she want them to have a cock? Maybe they should have checked. But now it feels like it would be an awkward time to introduce that particular question...
She thrills at the challenge, "Oh?" Her voice low, dangerous. "You don't think so?"
Her knees hit the ground so hard Carnelian has to imagine it hurt, but she barely notices. She considers for an amused moment he might not have expected this of her.
Warm hands find his hips again, pressing him firmly against the tree at his back as a silent stay, and, slowly—frustratingly slowly; she's fighting to stay focused in spite of the heat of want between her legs— she's mouthing up his thighs.
Just a handsbreadth shy of where she's sure they'd really like her mouth to be, she laves her tongue over the thin skin of his inner thigh, looks up at them through her eyelashes, and bites.
"Gnhh-!"
They so nearly lose it right there and then, hips jerking involuntarily upwards. They press themselves back against the tree, panting as they try to pull themselves back under control. "F-fuck," they manage dazedly. "Do that - do that again." They reach down to grip the base of their cock hard, trying to keep themself under control.
Dane chuckles darky, pulling back just enough to look Carnelian in the eye, and– oh. He was a sight; sinful with those oddly fiery eyes blown black with desire.
She makes strangled sort of sound, acutely aware of her own arousal, but fuck she needed to pull that noise out of him again.
She presses forward, mouthing at the thin skin just to the right of his cock, feeling the heat of his skin on her cheek as her nose brushes his fingertips. "If I do," her voice comes out hoarse; gods but she must look just as affected, "you still gonna have it in you to fuck me after?"
She grazes her teeth—barely there— against the twin spot of his other thigh as she waits for a reply.
"Hhhahh- fuck, I'm not even sure - but I'll work it out," they pant. "... real risk of me just blowing inside you as soon as I put it in, and that's - not cool, ffuck..."
They bury their free hand in her hair - not trying to control her movements, just holding on. "Very - unf-fair of you, by the way! Making me look like some - quickshot... not my fault you fucking - gods..."
They're barely managing to keep up the banter, cock drooling over their hand despite their best efforts. It twitches hard at the graze of her teeth and they moan hoarsely, smacking their head back against the trunk of the tree behind them.
"Fuck, look at you– mm, why is that kinda hot?" She's not sure if she said that last bit out loud or not. Her eyes flutter and a low groan escapes her lips at the tug of his hand in her hair.
She squeezes her eyes shut for a second, willing herself to stay lucid. "Do I win the bet then?"
Without waiting for a response, she does sink her teeth into the flesh of his thigh, punctuating with an Indulgent, slow suck at the skin there.
They lose it.
If the bite hadn't been enough to send them over the edge, what followed would have been. They come with a strangled moan, inadvertently pressing Dane's head closer, fingers tangled in her hair. His grip on his cock does nothing whatsoever to delay the inevitable - all it does, thanks to the way he's gripping it, is direct the mess over his own abdomen rather than over Dane.
They slump back against the tree, dazed and dripping. "Fuck." Their voice is shaky and slightly awed as they stare down at her.
Dane smiles through the moan that leaves her as Carnelian spills over, fist tight in her hair.
She's doesn't pull back for a second. Nearly delirious with desire, anything she can do to keep the energy, the tension, she's going for it.
She shifts her weight to get her feet beneath her, planting wet open-mouthed kisses from where she began at his thigh, across his abdomen, laving her tongue over a nipple. When she's fully upright again, on admittedly shakey legs, she presses fully against them, lips brushing their ear.
"You– hhm– you wanna answer my question, gorgeous?"
He grabs at her as she makes her way upright, greedy for more touch, more anything - his cock is making a valiant attempt at recovering, his hips still jerking at each new shred of sensation.
"You win," they pant, clutching at her hips. "Fuck. There's no way I could argue otherwise. You win." They drag her into a sloppy, breathless kiss, careless of the mess they're making as they grind themself against her.
"Need to be inside you," they manage as they pull back for a second, before chasing her mouth again.
She leans into their touch, eager for anything he'll give her as long as its more.
Panting into the kiss, she breathes "Mn- so don't–hhah.. don't agrue". Her hands leave his skin, but she doesn't move from his lips. She's unlacing her underthings, letting them fall unceremoniously to her feet. "Can't believe I still– nnh– have these on.
She presses against them again, skin to skin, blissfully bare. "Fuck okay– we need to be horizontal like now.
Carnelian pulls away, looking around - nowhere close looks suitable. With a grumble he stomps his foot on the ground, his magic racing outwards. Thick, green moss blooms a carpet across a nearby patch of ground, thick enough to act as a reasonable cushion for activities. They drag Dane closer, grinning, and flop down on the moss, looking up at her. "How's this?"
Dane huffs out a breath as they land, caging him in with hands on either side of his head. "Again, better." She grins down at them, dark hair falling to frame her face.
She shifts to straddle him, sitting up straight, a slight arch in her back. With their cock trapped between their lower abdomen and the wet heat of her cunt, she experimentally rolls her hips. Once. Twice. An absolutely sinful moan pours from her at the friction.
She might have intended to tease him further, but she's too impatient to draw this out much more. She rises up on her knees enough to reach a hand between her thighs–slick with arousal–and lines him up, hissing at the stretch.
"H-holyshit... s'good," she bites her lip, head tipped back, forcing herself to sink down slowly. "You feel– ngh~"
He groans, trying to resist the urge to just thrust upwards into the hot clasp of her cunt. "Fuck, you're so wet-" He grips her hips, making himself stick to the torturously slow speed she's setting. Once he's all the way in he grinds against her for a moment, panting, before pulling back out again. He sinks back in with a moan. "Fuck... you're going to make me lose my mind..."
(A knight is pacing back and forth in the red moonlight at Bloodhaven, visibly jittery. He has short white hair, heterochromatic teal & purple eyes, and is around 5'8.)
Vel had been out, foraging and generally enjoying the night, when they notice the knight. They pause- something wasn’t right, clearly.
They approach slowly, making sure they’re visible well before they get close. “Sir? Are… are you quite alright?” They call softly, head tipping as their own heterochromatic eyes rake over him, looking for any obvious signs or injuries.
(He jolts and takes a step back.)
Y- err, I might be? My head hurts and I'm just- a little worried, no big deal.
(There's a smudge of blood across his cheek, but no visible injuries.)
Vel frowns slightly. “You don’t… seem alright.” They note the blood and lack injury that it could have come from.
“Is there… could I help? Please?” They make no attempt to get any closer. “We could at least get your face cleaned up? You said your head hurt- did you hit it?”
They dug into the basket at their side. “I have fresh herbs and willow root- we can make tea to help with the pain…”
...I just have a headache from uh, suppressing-
I don't like tea very much, but if you think it would help, maybe... (he looks at them warily)
“Suppressing something? Hm. I don’t believe that tea is the best remedy, then.” They tip their head, looking up again, their eyes assessing. And… a little too bright for how dark the night was.
“I want to help you, sir. I… I know you don’t know me, but… I do. Even if the problem isn’t small or easy to fix.”
(Aurorian's eyes seem to almost glow in the night.)
....Alright. I'm a werewolf, for starters, and I missed the full moon a few days ago.
“You… missed it?” They blink a few times before shaking their head. “Ok. Ok. Right. Werewolf. Uh… it, uh, this reaction is… your body catching back up, then?”
That and the blood moon. 'm scared of blood moons, really scared. I also don't want to get hit in the face and poisoned again if I go on a rampage. But I neeeed to change my form so badly.
“Ok- wait who hit- no. Not the point right now.” They run a hand through their hair. “Den. We need a den.”
They put their hands on their hips and start pacing, mumbling to themself as they do. “My closet is barely big enough for me. And werewolves are larger than natural wolves on average, so we can’t do that… shit.”
The pause, look briefly guilty, then their face sets in resolve. “I know you have no reason to trust me, but… I have a room we can go to. It should be big enough. And it’s safe and nice there.”
... I'll choose to trust you because I think I'm pretty boned if I don't. Thank you for deciding to help me.
Vel nods decisively. “Alright then. Come on, this way.” They pause. “You can call me Vel, by the way.”
They lead the knight into the castle, through the corridors (doing a surprisingly good job of avoiding other people) until the two reach one of the guest rooms.
It was… messy. Clothes were everywhere, with a fair number heaped onto the bed along with multiple blankets. Vel starts moving around the room, tidying up. They weren’t bothering much with the clothing, but rather focusing on securing and moving anything fragile or breakable, such as the vanity mirror. The whole place smelled strongly of fae. And Vel.
“This, uh… this isn’t actually my room. It’s… they’re… we’re, uh, friends? Sort of?”
(Aurorian nods slowly) Right. (He looks around and twitches slightly, sitting down on the floor.)
I think the ceiling's high enough for my wolf form.
(On another glance, now that Aurorian isn't pacing back and forth, they seem just a little faelike. Not enough to be a full fae, surely, but something's up. It might also explain the design style on his armour.)
Vel frowns. They watch for another moment. The lighting was better in here and they were starting to see more. Outside they had attributed it to the werewolf-ness. Now they weren’t so sure.
They had tests for this, but they didn’t really want to start bopping the barely hanging on werewolf with iron. They hadn’t learned this knight’s name yet, even if they were loathe to do so in this way.
Even as the words left a sour taste in their mouth, they asked, “I don’t believe we finished introductions earlier. May I have your name, sir knight?”
...Have it or know it? You can know it but not have it... I go by Aurorian.
(He flips a couple switches on his right leg's armour, removing the pieces more easily than if he'd had traditional removal methods.)
Vel groans, rubbing their face. “Has someone else tried to take it? Fuck. Are you trapped? Are you safe? I- I can try to help.”
Vel watches him as he removes the armor with unconcealed worry. “…do you want help?”
I think Fulgere technically has it, but I still get to use it. She just can use it to command me or something? Why would I need help? (he seems genuinely slightly confused)
I should be quick enough to remove all this before my body changes, probably.
“I meant ‘do you want help getting away’, though I’d be happy to help with your armor.”
Vel hugs their middle. “…why don’t you seem upset? Has she ordered you not to be? I… how else could you be ok with one of them… owning you like that?”
(He removes the left leg of armour and his right arm's, starting work on his left arm.) Should be alright.
I don't remember. I think I've worked for her for at least 5 years, maybe more... she's not been too bad to me. Better than the alternative, I assume.
Vel gapes at him. “Not too bad?! I- thats- she’s fae! Who owns you! She hasn’t… has she not…?” They run their hands through their hair, starting to pace again.
“What alternative!? Free will!? Anything is better than being- than-“ they tug at the strands. “Why are you so calm about this??”
Has she not done what? (He finishes removing his armour, including his torso armour, which all now sits in a pile. He's in a blue linen tunic and linen pants with leg wraps and socks.)
I think I have free will, probably. Dunno, I'm used to it, I guess?
“… she hasn’t… hurt you? Forced you to do things you don’t want to?” Vel sits heavily on the bed, grabbing one of the pillows and hugging it to their chest, their legs pulled up. “I don’t understand how you can be so ok with this. I… I hated every second…” their voice had dropped to a whisper by the end.
I don't remember. I think sometimes she makes me do things I don't want to, but it's not usually all that bad. The other fae in her kingdom are pushier than her.
Vel stares at him for a second. “Not that bad? I… I- they treated me like a- I was hun-“.
They stop as they realize they were close to giving too much away about their past.
“…I guess you got lucky with your owner.”
Not really lucky. The others still like to get their share, and since she's their queen I think I'm sort of like, owned by the state.
(He twitches again) Ow.
Vel winces, then shakes their head. “I am… so sorry you are trapped like that. I… suppose I’m happy you are not distressed by your situation, though.”
“Don’t keep holding it back. Especially if it’s causing you pain.” They sigh. “Should I move back or leave the room? How much danger will I be in? “
..Right. If you can hide behind a piece of furniture- I'll probably be a little cramped when I shift, and it'll be hard enough for me to maneuver that you should be safe that way.
(He collapses forward and his form starts to change.)
Vel rolls off the bed and crawls under it, briefly sticking their hand back out to give a thumbs up before vanishing underneath entirely.
(He transforms fully, and a very large white wolf is now in his place, sitting somewhat cramped with its head against the ceiling.)
(It leans down and sniffs at the floor, sticking its nose against the bottom of the bed. It growls when it realizes it can't get to Vel, and retreats, scratching its claws lightly against the floor.)
There’s a chirrup from under the bed, distinctly more animal, fox-like, than human. The sound is of greeting, something placating and an assuring that Aurorian is welcome and in charge in this den.
(Its ears perk up and it tilts its head as best as it can manage in its cramped position. This has seemed to placate it a little, no longer tempting it to go after Vel. Though, it remains a little suspicious of them.)
There’s some shuffling from under the bed before green eyes peek out. They were still far enough back to be safe, but now more visible.
Another fox chirp and a whine. Submission and letting it know that they’re not a threat.
Vel didn’t really intended to submit to this wolf, but it was best that they work with it rather than against it- after all, they knew too well that they certainly wouldn’t win a fight with it. And they did want to try to be friends.
(The wolf leans down again and peers at them with one big purple eye, making a small snuffling noise as it sniffs.)
(It elects to lay down as much as it can in the room, whining aimlessly.)
Vel pokes their hand out to let it sniff, and if it was willing, a pat. “I know big guy. I know this sucks. But isn’t this nice? Cozy den- safe, warm, comfortable enough for the night? And you’re not alone. Not alone in this. I’m here. It’s going to be ok.”
(It allows a pat and licks their whole hand in one go.)
@fae-prince-carnelian
"Uh-"
This is the moment when Carn opens the door to their room. They blink at the gigantic... wolf... on their floor, its muzzle stuck under the bed.
"... what the fuck...?"
( @velkynsisirn )
Vel wriggles until their face is poking out from under the bed. “Oh. Uh… hi Carn. I, um… it’s a long story. But, uh… he needed somewhere to go. I couldn’t leave him outside.”
They give the fae their best puppy eyes. “I’m sorry. Please let him stay?”
( @fae-prince-carnelian or @knighted-lavender-auroras I’m not sure who goes next)
(The wolf lifts its head and turns to Carnelian, looking at them with suspicion.)
( @fae-prince-carnelian if you want to bounce off here or Vel's response)
"... so you brought a giant wolf into my room?" Carn says, bemused. "And why are you under the bed?"
They give the wolf a hard stare, purely because it's watching him suspiciously.
( @velkynsisirn - makes sense for it to be you-Aurorian-me :) )
“Uh… yeah. Thats… sorta what happened. He’s, uh… kinda a werewolf thats having to deal with the blood moon right now. He needed a safe den. And I couldn’t take him to my closet because he wouldnt fit in there.”
They tap their fingers on the floor nervously. “And I’m under the bed so he could adjust to me without risking being bit or eaten.”
@knighted-lavender-auroras
(It huffs and stands slowly in the room, trying not to hit its head. It snaps its jaws in Carnelian’s direction.)
( @fae-prince-carnelian )
"Hey! Don't be rude, this is my room!" Carnelian wags a finger at the wolf. ... actually, now that they're paying attention, it feels kind of... familiar. "... wait, don't I know you? You're Fulgere's pet, we met at the Ball, right?"
Something else occurs to them and they look at Vel. "What do you mean, your closet?"
( @velkynsisirn )
They reach out and pat the part of Aurorian they can reach- a paw. “Please be nice? He’s… my friend. Sort of.”
Then they turn back to Carn “I’m talking about the closet I sleep in most nights. I wasn’t exactly invited here, so it’s not like they had a room for me.” They fold their hands and rest their head on them with a shrug.
( @knighted-lavender-auroras )
(At the pet comment, the wolf tries to nip at Carnelian, not minding the attempt at placating this time.)
( @fae-prince-carnelian )
"Wh- hey!! You're way too big for that to be funny!" They scuttle backwards, scowling at the wolf. "I won't even taste good!"
They're almost immediately distracted by Vel's answer. "You what?! You're not allowed to sleep in a closet, you dummy. I have a whole room! You can- wait, you kind of already are using it as your own, aren't you? You've put a wolf in it. A bitey one with an attitude!" they add, scowling at Aurorian.
( @velkynsisirn )
Vel flushes, clearly embarrassed. “I- well- you weren’t here! And your bed is much comfier than the thin mattress I managed to drag into my room. I, um… I didn’t think you’d mind.”
They scoot back under the bed. “Sorry. Aurorian needed somewhere to go and I couldn’t think of anywhere else. And part of my brain started thinking of here as a den and… sorry.”
@knighted-lavender-auroras
(It tries to push Carnelian over with a paw.)
( @fae-prince-carnelian )
"Hey!!" He flails crossly, but is distracted by Vel. "And hey you! Don't look all-" he sighs. "I'm not mad at you, okay? I'm glad you're using the room. I don't mind, you're right. So keep using it. Even if you put big stupid wolves in it." He glares up at Aurorian, which would probably be more menacing if he wasn't currently on his back, on the ground, squished beneath its paw.
( @velkynsisirn )
Vel pokes back out with a soft giggle. “Do you need some help?” They pat Aurorian’s paw again. “Please let him up? He’s not going to hurt either of us.”
( @knighted-lavender-auroras )
(Aurorian grumbles and huffs but releases Carnelian, thwapping his tail against the floor in mild irritation.)
( @fae-prince-carnelian )
"Thank you. Honestly, such rudeness to your host!" He dusts himself off, sitting up. "... though I guess technically that would be the Baron, the room's not actually mine..."
( @velkynsisirn )
It doesn't take Carnelian long to find Vel - he has a good awareness of anything which touches the woods, and Vel's not far from them right now. He zips easily through the trees until he reaches the edge, setting himself down and making his way out in search of them.
"Vel!" He plops cheerfully down next to them. "Hello. Are you busy right now? I have a friend who needs you to touch some iron for him."
( @velkynsisirn )
Vel looks up at him, their brows furrowing in confusion. "I'm not, but... is that a euphemism?Because if it is, I'm not so sure I want to "meet" this friend right now..."
"Huh? No, I mean all his shit is currently in an iron safe and neither of us can touch it," Carnelian says, bemused. "A euphemism for what? If you mean fucking then I don't think that even makes sense. And also I wouldn't just wander up to you and go 'hey do you wanna fuck a guy?', that's kinda weird." He considers. "Well, I mean. I might, but only if you'd said you wanted me to, and we haven't had that conversation."
Vel shrugs. “I don’t know. I heard all sorts of weird euphemisms during the ball. I thought maybe the ‘friend’ was your genitalia.”
They snort and shake their head. “Never mind that. You said you had a friend with a safe?” Their eyes go wary. “Is… this a fae friend? Why would they have an iron safe? It… is theirs, right?”
They wet their lips and cautiously ask, “why are you asking me for help?”
Carn pauses, tilting his head as he considers the prospect of that 'friend' wanting to touch some iron. Especially a specific piece of iron...
He shakes his head before he gets too distracted. "No! Will isn't my dick. He was at Bloodhaven, sort of, so maybe you've met him? He's... well, it's complicated. But he's nice. Not full fae, and it's only recently that the iron thing's become a problem. Hence the safe only now needing outside help to open it." He shrugs.
"And I'm asking you because you're nice? And I know you? And I think you'd be nice to him. There's not actually that many people I know around Bloodhaven, you know. Ones I'd trust to ask for favours."
Something in their eyes goes soft and understanding. “He’s changing? Thats…” they wince, “I don’t envy him that. That’s not… a pleasant experience, from what remember.” They look off, eyes briefly going distant.
“I find myself a little surprised you’re asking for help.” They look back at Carn. “Are you asking for help or a favor?” They shake their head. “Not that it makes a difference. I will gladly help your friend.”
"... no, it seems very painful and not very safe or healthy for him." Carn's brow furrows in honest concern. "And I can't do a whole lot to help with that if he breaks. It's very frustrating."
He frowns at the question, not entirely sure of the answer himself. "I - don't know. They're both sort of the same thing, right? People expect help to be paid back regardless, they remember when they help. So you're right, it doesn't really make a difference. But thank you, I appreciate it. He can't get to all his important things. He wants to give the safe to KPS, but I think that'll be difficult. I'm not going to ask you to carry a safe into town, just get his things out of it."
Vel searches his face for a moment before shaking their head and standing up. “You are certainly not like any other fae I have ever met. The other-… there is absolutely a difference. But that’s fine. Never change, Carnelian.”
“Are you sure this friend of yours won’t mind me opening his safe for him?” They ask, brushing their hands off on their trousers- not the nice ones from their night of dress up, their old ones.
Carnelian preens, though he's not entirely sure why he's being praised. Oh well, he'll take it anyway.
"He won't mind. He was was worrying about it and I offered. I told him you're nice and he doesn't need to worry. He's happy for you to help. I think he's probably taking a nap right now but it'll give us time to walk there."
He reaches out to grab one of Vel's hands, heading off happily in the direction of Will's house. He's quite looking forward to having his friends meet. Is that weird? That's probably weird. But oh well!
“You should be more careful just grabbing me like that. I do still wear iron a lot of the time.” They huff, letting Carn tow them along. “I, um… never thanked you. For the masquerade. I realize that cuddling and falling asleep probably weren’t what you had in mind.”
"No but it was nice," he said with a shrug. "And it's not like it was our one and only chance to do anything, right? There's time. And if I touch iron I'll just let go." He squeezes their hand. "But you don't need to thank me, anyway. I had fun too, you know."
Vel ducks their head with a shy smile. They clear their throat, looking straight ahead rather than at Carn. "So, is there anything I should know about this Will person? Any topics I should avoid?" They vaguely look around, "how far are we going, anyway?"
"Uhhh," Carn says, wracking their brains. "I don't... think so? He has a bird. Called Page. He... well, the rest I should probably let him tell you I guess? He's a knight. I haven't known him all that long, really. We fucked before the Ball and that was how we met."
From the way he says this, he doesn't seem to think it's something which should be secret. Or approached with any level of tact.
Vel snorts. “Of course you did. Is this the one you were referring to when we were together during the masquerade? The one you said reacted poorly to finding out you’re a prince?”
They hum softly to themself, “not that I can really blame him for that.”
"Yeah that's him," Carn says with a sigh. "He seems to have come around to the idea. Or rather, he's seen that it doesn't actually matter. People are always weird about it, that's why I don't tell 'em."
He begins to lead Vel through the woods, his sense of direction apparently unerring.
“I can very much see why. I have seen enough horror with common fae and Lords. The fact that I am… that I am holding a Prince’s hand and willingly following them through the woods would be unthinkable to my younger self. Even my current self is… struggling with it.” Their voice drops at the end to nearly a whisper.
“Have been for days.”
"Oh," Carn says, brow furrowing. He processes this for a moment.
"... uh... should I - not hold your hand...? Wait, no, then I guess you'd be following me anyway without even holding my hand." He's not sure what to say. It's an unfamiliar feeling.
Vel laughs softly, though theres little humor in it. “No, don’t stop holding my hand. It’s… good. Grounding. I… I like it.”
The wet their lips- the piercing was gone from their tongue- “It has less to do with the fact that you’re holding my hand and more to do with- with the fact that I would be even remotely willing to trust you. And yet I do. I’m trusting you to take me somewhere else. And I…”
They swallow, throat clicking dryly. “The last time I followed a fae through the forest… I lost… I lost everything. My home. Years of my life.” They pause before adding, almost inaudibly, “my Name.”
He squeezes their hand, frowning. "... yeah, we do do that, don't we. How old were you when that happened? ... do they still have it? Your name."
He had his own little collection of them, after all. He didn't do anything with them - didn't even remove them from the people he took them from, usually. They were just... his, while their original owners were allowed to borrow them. Usually didn't even notice they were gone.
He probably shouldn't tell Vel that.
Vel takes a shuddering breath. “I, uh.. ten? Ish? Maybe twelve. And, um. Yeah. Yeah, they still have it. But it’s not mine. Not anymore.” They squeeze his hand back. “It was… not good. He wasn’t… like you. They-“ their voice chokes off as they shake their head.
“It is the nature of fae to take mortals’ names. To rip our lives from us and make us into playthings and pets and puppets.” They glance at Carn out of the corner of their eye. “…admittedly, I used to think it was the nature of all fae to be cruel, too. I still might. But…” they trail off, looking ahead again.
Is that my nature too?
He doesn't think it isn't, necessarily. He just thinks he treats his pets nicer than Vel's last owner. ... right? He's frowning, though.
"Sounds like they were pretty bad," he says. "... you said they're Winter Court too, right?" He wonders if he knows them.
“Uh.. I’m not sure. They were Unseelie. I thought they were Autumn Court, but I could be wrong. I was so young when I cared. And as I got older… I stopped paying attention to those things. I was more concerned with… other schedule, for the most part.”
They sigh, squeezing Carnelian’s hand again. “…I’m… terrified. Terrified you’re just playing the long game. That I’ll be taken back to… that. To what they were like.”
They finally, finally look at him. “…I don’t want to, though. I want to… to trust this. To believe you when you say you won’t hurt me.”
He grimaces, but pulls Vel to a halt, reaching up to cup their face in his hands.
"Don't give me that power over you," he says to them, earnestly. "I don't have your name. I'm not going to ask for it. I don't want to hurt you, but - that doesn't mean I'm safe, right? I'm not human. I don't feel stuff the same way." He studies them, brow furrowed. "When I say I want you to be safe, feel safe, I mean from me as well, right? So if you don't trust me, if you feel like you're in danger from me, then go. I'm not trustworthy. I'm not nice. I'm fae. And you're right, that means something. Don't start - trusting other fae just because I've been nice to you."
He's not really all that sure what he's doing. He's just - worried. In some vague, uncertain way.
Vel presses their face into his hands, nuzzling into his palm. “I can’t give you my name, Carnelian. I am called Velkyn, I am called Vel. But I never found another one after He took my first one.”
They let out a slow breath. “I know you are fae. I know cruelty is as innate to fae as it is with cats. But the fact that you aren’t trying to trap me, that you were willing to ask a favor- to owe a debt… that makes you different. So… I’m not leaving. And I was never planning on trusting others. But…”
“Theres a big difference between ‘not trusting’ and ‘hating all of you’. You have taught me, even in this short time, that not all fae are worthy of my hate.” They look up at him. “I also know that even other humans hurt each other when they don’t mean to. But I… I trust that you mean it when you say you dont want to hurt me, now. That you do want to help your friend, Will. And… thats somewhere to start.”
He nods slowly, frowning. "Well, I'd be sad if you didn't want to see me any more," he says. "So - I suppose I'm glad."
The name thing, though... he turns it over, considering. "... I could try and get it back for you? Your name. Do you want it back?" He strokes his thumbs gently over their cheeks. "I'll fight 'em for it. I'll eat their heart."
It's not entirely clear how much this is a joke.
Vel slips their eyes shut. “I… don’t think I want it back. The reason I broke free was because it was no longer mine, if that makes sense. It wasn’t that they took it away- it no longer fit me and I slipped loose of his control.”
They peek one eye open with a grin thats a little too sharp. “Though… seeing you rip them apart like they did to- like they used to, would be very satisfying. I think I would enjoy it if you ate their heart.”
Carnelian’s tone may not have been clear- but Vel’s definitely was. They weren’t joking.
Carn blinks - then grins, exposing canines. "Noted," he murmurs. He leans down to kiss Vel's forehead. "Then clearly one day I'll have to find them for you."
Vel leans into the kiss for a moment, eyes slipping shut again before they sigh softly.
“Ok. We, um, we should keep going. We’ve been distracted long enough. It would probably be best if we got to your friend’s house before he wakes.”
"Sounds like a plan to me," Carn agrees. He drapes an arm around Vel's shoulders this time, continuing onwards towards Will's house.
As they approach, he pauses. "You have to wipe your feet before you go in or the house gets mad. Don't even ask." But he opens the door and peeks inside, trying to see if Will is up.
( @ser-william-the-third )
He heard the door open from his bed, as he was changing the bandages around his arms. He awoke not long after he fell asleep, his feet aching. Were they…longer?
“Carn? Did you bring your friend?” He called out, using a wooden practice sword as a cane to hobble out to the common area. “Ah, welcome, welcome. A friend of Carn is a friend of mine. Usually.”
He hobbled over to offer his hand to the brunette. “I’m William, and you are..?”
@velkynsisirn
Vel takes the hand, grateful that they had already removed their rings before carn even came to get them. This man was clearly in enough pain as it was.
“You can call me Vel. And I would like to be a friend, not the exception.”
Their eyes skim him, assessing, taking in his condition.
"Hey, Will," Carn says, eyeing him with concern. "How are you feeling? You're struggling to walk now?" He steps forward to offer Will his arm to lean on if he wants to. "But yeah, this is Vel."
( @ser-william-the-third )
He let go of Vel’s hand and leaned against Carn, giving him a brief hug as he did so. “I think my legs are changing now too, yeah. My feet are longer? And my toes hurt. Plus whatever is going on in my spine…. Well come in, come in. I was going to make ginger tea, but I have a huge collection of herbs, make yourself at home.”
He motioned around to his home while walking to the kitchen, still in such a state of disarray as before. There are tarps over a large square shape, presumably the safe, on the far left wall and cloths thrown over mirrors and reflective surfaces. A single lamp is burning on the dining table, surrounded by jars, parcels, and crates to hold them. Along the walls are hanging weapons from many different colors and eras, some with magical signatures.
( @velkynsisirn )
Vel looks over the area before glancing at Carn. Regardless of what they see there they ser their jaw and move to catch up to Will (not that it was hard).
“Let me. I know my way around herbs and medicinal teas. You should rest. I’ll make you something with willow and ginger. It should help enough until we know how much you’re… changing. And once we do, I can make you some different remedies.”
@fae-prince-carnelian
"They're right, you sit and let someone else make tea," Carn agrees, gently steering William towards a chair. "... if you've changed noticeably in the few hours I've been gone then no wonder you're in pain. And Vel's smart, I bet they make great tea."
( @ser-william-the-third )
“Considering I lost my human teeth within the day after my possession, it seems to be a rapid change.” He grabbed a small jar on the table and shook it. A full set of human teeth sloshed and jangled together inside. The teeth were suspended In some sort of cleaning solution, evidently being added to William’s eclectic collections.
Shifting uncomfortably, he leaned to his side, careful not to put too much pressure on his tailbone. “I know I didn’t fall on it during the mission, I don’t understand why….” He sighed again, and began tidying up the table in front of him, so the others could sit if they so please.
( @velkynsisirn )
Vel headed into the kitchen to set the kettle to boil, then came back out to rejoin the other two. They frown slightly. “Your butt hurts? Or your tailbone specifically?”
They leave when the water boils, and returns after preparing the tea, setting the steeping teapot on the table. “It could be yet another change. My tailbone used to hurt like a bitch during and after my transformations”
( @fae-prince-carnelian )
"It did?" Carnelian says, both intrigued and slightly horrified. Imagine if they got sore every time they changed shape! These poor stiff mortals. "... I don't think I can massage a bone. Or, well. Not this kind of bone."
They go over to plop down on the floor on a cushion anyway, holding their arms out to Will. "Come flop with me so you don't have to sit on your sore butt."
( @ser-william-the-third )
Will stood, stiffly, and looked at Vel. Really looked, and felt confused. "You've.... gone through this too? And it's reversable? Why did your tailbone hurt? When-" Realizing he was being a bit fast with his questions, William took a deep breath, and shuffled over to Carn's open arms. He motioned Vel over to them, and carefully chose his words. "Would you be willing to tell me about yours? I don't wish to pry, but the only person I've ever met who went through something similar is my brother, and his was permanent and not as severe..."
( @velkynsisirn )
“I… I don’t mind telling you. But I’m afraid that it’s not going to be what you want to hear.” Vel came and sat in front of them, face slightly grave.
“I haven’t gone through what you did. I was born mortal. Fully mortal, to my awareness, though I don’t remember a lot from back then. My transformations weren’t an awakening of latent blood like yours- though I helped two of my owner’s bastards through something like this. But their changes never reversed, to my knowledge.”
They close their eyes and take a deep breath before continuing.
“My transformations were different and done to me through another’s magic, not my own. I was forced to go through full animal shifts. Fox, mostly. I, um… I was used as prey in The Wild Hunt. So it… yeah. It was different.”
@fae-prince-carnelian
"You were what?" Carn says, eyes widening. "Oh. Shit. Well. That - that explains some things." He's not entirely sure how he feels about that. Probably bad.
He arranges Will so that he's more or less laying across Carn's lap, facedown with Carn's arms supporting him so that he's not putting any weight on his sore tailbone. "... forced short-term changes, though... it would make sense why that would've wrecked your body."
( @ser-william-the-third )
William flinched, just slightly when Vel mentioned the Bastards, but did not comment on it, a resigned look briefly flitted across his brows.
"Oh! Vel, I'm so sorry that happened to you. Wait, the Wild Hunt at Bloodhaven? That was so recent, are you alright? Healed?" he propped up to his elbows, chest and thighs across Carn still.
( @velkynsisirn )
Vel shakes their head. “No, I was a hunter during the Bloodhaven hunt, though I dropped out because I panicked.” They swallow hard, biting their lower lip for a moment.
“I’m talking about The Wild Hunt in the fae realm. Its premise is similar: humans transformed into animals to make the hunting more entertaining. But there’s no magic weapons that do no harm. No overseers making sure everyone is ok. No rules. Just fear and running and pain. They heal you after if you’re a valued pet. I was. I was healed to the point that I don’t even have scars. Kept pristine.”
“But that doesn’t take away the feeling of piercing, of ripping-“ their words choke off with a shuddering breath, and they squeeze their eyes shut. “I was hunted for sport for years and I don’t even have any scars to show for it.” Their voice cracks.
( @fae-prince-carnelian )
Carnelian eyes them unhappily, then holds out an arm to them. "Come here, Vel." His voice is uncharacteristically gentle, but he hates seeing them like this. Will can have his lap, but he can still hug Vel.
"... I'm sorry there's no physical proof of what happened to you, even. I..." He trails off. "... I'm sorry."
( @ser-william-the-third )
Shifting over slightly, he held out his hand for Vel as well. "Would you like a hug?" he smiled in the most comforting way he knew how, and patted the floor beside Carn near his head with his other hand.
"Wait. Do you think I'm gonna grow a tail? I'll have to alter all of my clothing!" he mock cried, leaning into dramatics to ease the tension.
( @velkynsisirn )
Vel nodded at Will’s question as they hiccuped, making a valiant attempt at hiding that they were tearing up as they crawled over and wiggled in so that they were pressed against the two.
They giggled slightly at his cry as they snuggled in, holding Will’s hand. “It’s ok. It’s not hard to alter for tails. I can help” they murmur from their tucked spot.
( @fae-prince-carnelian )
Carnelian wraps an arm around Vel, delighted at Will having gotten involved in the cuddling too. He presses a brief kiss to Vel's temple. "There we go, plans in place. Tails are dealable with thanks to the power of tailoring. Tailoring." He nods solemnly.
( @ser-william-the-third )
Earthy scents of oak and dark loam hang thick in the midnight air. The Dusk Watch is a shift that only gets more dull as it goes on—people shuttering their windows before bed mirroring the birds roosting for the night—until all the world is hushed and it's the sentry's duty to resist the gentle lull toward complacency. There are good reasons they're posted in twos. Sir Dead-Weight over there must be half a dozen of them.
For the third time this evening, the absolute lout of a man Dane was paired with leans toward her, brandishing a pair of dice. "All I'm sayin's we could pass the time with a game o' hazard. 's no' my fault if yer afraid to lo–"
She holds up a hand to cut him off, scanning the nearby woods. "Shut the fuck up, will you?" She's sure she heard something; a rustling in the brambles, just out of view. "Probably just a wild animal, but a fight with a damn porcupine beats standing here with you. Mind your post."
She doesn't wait for a reply before stalking forward on light feet, one hand drifting toward the falchion at her hip as she breeches the treeline.
@fae-prince-carnelian
Carnelian is up to mischief. Carnelian is, admittedly, always up to mischief.
Today though, it's harmless. They'd taken a wander through the woods, slightly grumpy, after their little encounter with Sierra, Princess Margaret and the wizard; it didn't feel as everyone had been entirely enchanted by them and that was, obviously, awful. But they were back out in the woods now - their realm - and so that was all fine.
Currently they were up a tree, dangling upside down with knees hooked over the branch above them as they picked idly at a pinecone. They paused, hearing something crashing through undergrowth nearby - big and on the civilisation side. Probably a person. They dropped down and went to investigate, curious.
Oh! Person.
They slink through the brambles, curious; the plants part for them to allow them through.
Dane moves more quietly than most would through the groundcover, but with brambles this thick it's still louder than she'd like.
She pauses, scanning for signs of anything amiss. If there was someone out here, they'd better have a good reason.
Not the best route for a theif to take by far. Too difficult to come back the way they came with arms full of spoils. Could always be a lookout for another sort of crime, though.
There's movement up ahead in the underbrush. No, scratch that, the brush itself is moving. She squints through the murky darkness. There is someone there.
"Speak your name," she rasps, hand ready at the grip of her blade. "I don't like surprises."
In the darkness, Carn grins, muscles bunching slightly. They want to frighten this little - well, not so little - human. They want to see what she does when surprised. They pace smoothly to the side, circling her as they consider.
But she already looks jumpy, and she's holding a sword.
"Oh, I don't share my name with just anyone," they say regardless. "But since you ask... may I have yours?"
And she does startle, just slightly; everything going tense for just a breath before she turns evenly in the direction of the voice.
Hard to make out any detail in the dark. She lifts her visor to give herself a better view of the stranger.
Nothing about them seems to speak of criminal intent - they're not dressed to conceal. Her shoulders drop, relaxing a bit as her eyes flick over his form in search of a weapon and finding none. Her hand doesn't stray from the grip of her own weapon, however. There is something peculiar about this one, she just can't quite place it.
She swallows, and her voice comes out clear; convincingly steady. "It's Vuurgast." Her brow furrows. She's the one who's asking the questions here. "You make a habit of gadding about in the woods in the middle of the night?" She gestures with her right hand, indicating the falchion held loosely in its grasp. "I could have swung at you instead of asking questions."
Carnelian grins. Such a sweetly trusting little human. "Vuurgast." They savour the name for a second, the taste of it on their tongue - a little sweet, a little bitter, something almost earthy about it. Delicious. Theirs, now, not that she knows.
They leave it be. They hold the name within them, now - but it doesn't mean they have to do anything with it, yet.
"I do, actually. I quite like it out here," they answer, motioning around the woods at large. "You seem a little nervous, considering you're also gadding about in the woods in the middle of the night. You seem a bit less comfortable with the idea than I am. And you could have swung at me, but there's quite a lot of plants in the way, right? I bet those aren't good for a blade. The woods is a bad place for a swordfight."
Dane narrows her eyes a touch, unsure if she likes the tone in which her name was spoken back to her.
She tilts her head just slightly, listening not a bit skeptically to their sorely lacking explanation as to their purpose in the forest.
Gesturing to herself—armored and armed, having clearly come from the direction of the Gates—she deadpans, "It is. Kind of my job to be on alert." She shifts her weight, glancing over their shoulder at the trees behind. "Used to spend a lot of time out after dark actually, just never could get used to the quiet of the woods at night. In town if it's this quiet, someone's up to something." Her voice deepens to an almost smoky timbre as she completes the thought. It seems she's still not entirely convinced someone isn't.
Choosing to put that aside for the moment, she pinches the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, sighing, "Woods wouldn't be my first pick for a place to fight, no, but I have a feeling if you were itching to start one," she quirks an eyebrow, "You'd have done it by now, seeing as you've got me here. Alone."
"Maybe it's not a fight I'm itching for," Carnelian says, with a teasing grin. But she's caught their attention now, and they tilt their head, curious. "So towns are noisy, then? It's only suspicious when it's quiet? I mean, that does sort of go for the woods, too. If you can't hear nature something's wrong. What were you doing out after dark, when you used to spend a lot of time out here?"
They wander closer, peering at her with interest - her face is visible with the visor up, and they have no trouble seeing in the dark.
"So you're a guard then? Pretty dedicated to be wandering out here rather than just hiding behind your walls until the trouble comes to you."
Oh? A bold one, they are. Alright. If it's banter, she can play that game.
A smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth. "Getting up to no good, usually."
Then her brow knits together. She's not so distracted by that train of thought as to miss the other implication in their words. "Have you... never been in a town?"
Something softens in her at the almost childlike curiosity in their eyes as they peer at her. She signs internally, this is probably stupid... She reaches up with both hands and removes her helm.
"Mm. Not so much dedicated as annoyed with the dolt they've lumped me in with tonight." She grins roguishly. "Thought you might be a porcupine. Seemed the preferable sort of prick to deal with."
Carn lets out a delighted little bark of laughter. "Maybe you should've sent him after the porcupine instead. But I can see the thinking. What if it had been something bigger than a porcupine and scarier than me?" They raise an eyebrow.
They pause at the question. "I mean, I've been in a town before. But never at night, and never really long enough to take note of how the sounds change. It just seemed always really noisy to me. Just -" They wave their hands vaguely. It's hard to explain how civilisation feels for them - being surrounded by iron has a sensation they can feel in their teeth.
Something occurs to them, and they grin impishly. "Hey. Do you wanna mess with your doltish colleague?"
"Scarier than you? Hmm.." her words dripping with mock-contemplation as she looks them up and down, pretending to evaluate the threat-level for comparison's sake. A crooked smirk plays on her lips, her tongue curling briefly around a canine. "Dunno, you're pretty stunning as it is." The double-meaning of the word toward 'frightening' is a stretch at best, but she tries for it anyway. "B'sides that, if I'd have stayed at my post you'd have had him to talk to instead of me." she huffs a quiet chuckle.
Dane absently runs the hand not occupied holding her helm through her hair, nodding as she listens. Guess being outta your element can be overwhelming in either direction.
She raises her eyebrows. Maybe a bit of a scare would set the man right. "...What did you have in mind?"
Carn's delight this time is even more palpable. "Oh, she flirts! You're definitely preferable to the rumoured bozo. Yeah, I definitely got the better option." They admire her as she runs a hand through her hair, amused.
At the question, they tilt their head, considering. "Depends how mean ya want to be. Are we just giving him a little jolt, or seeing if we can make him piss his braies?"
The corners of her eyes crinkle as her grin stretches across her face. "I wanna say I got the best of three options, but that's probably not too flattering considering your competition. No offense to the porcupine."
She actually laughs at the question. A warm sound from somewhere deep in her chest. "Ehhh, as long as he's not hurt on my watch. Not sure I could make a great excuse for that seeing as I'm s'posed to be over there with him."
"Pissing his braies it is!" Carn says brightly. "I can chase him through the woods for you a bit if you like - not too far into them. Herd him like a sheepdog. Maybe it'll make him buck up his ideas a bit."
They look around, thoughtful. "If you tell him you've found something and bring him over I can torment him a little bit. Though I suppose you won't be able to watch and enjoy it if I'm chasing him through the trees, will you?"
Dane snorts a laugh at their enthusiasm, shaking her head. Almost fondly.
"Sure, I could tell him to come over here, but I bet he'd expect me to rescue him from you, even if he didn't wonder why I wasn't being chased myself..." Dane chews her lip as she considers.
Carn can pinpoint the moment the idea comes to her by the look in her eyes. "What if we get close enough to the treeline he can hear me shout for help, but I hide before he gets here? Then you can chase him to your heart's content, and I get to scare him again when he mentions it to me later by pretending I don't know what he's talking about. I didn't call for help at all." A conspiratorial smile spreads across her face. "'n fact, I didn't hear anyone else yell either."
Dane meets their gaze, resisting the urge to instead gaze at them. They're an uncanny sort of pretty.
"Course, I still wouldn't get to watch," she tilts her head just slightly. "So, I guess you'd have to tell me about it some other time"
Carn's grin curls wickedly. Are their teeth just a little too sharp? It's hard to tell, in the dim light. "That sounds perfect," they breathe, staring at her admiringly. "You have a brilliant mind, dearest Ser Vuurgast. Wonderful! Then we have a plan. You'll shout for help, and I'll wait to gently terrorise your hapless coworker. It'll be magnificent!"
They beam at her, pleased. "You'll have to tell me how he reacts when you act like nothing's happened, too. I bet it'll be delicious."
Dane chuckles, allowing herself a moment to bask in the compliment. She's often commended for her strength, or her skill with a blade; it's not nearly so often that she's praised for her mind.
She takes a few steps in the direction of the gates as she scouts for a place to quickly hide in after getting the other knight's attention.
A thick snarl of brambles lies not too far off, earning an appreciative nod. This'll do nicely.
"Deal. But y'know, I do usually like to know what to call someone before I agree to see them again." She gives a crooked grin, "For delicious exchanges or otherwise."
"Oh! I forgot!" They smack their forehead lightly. "Carnelian! You can call me Carnelian. I look forward to further delicious exchanges." They grin at her. "Have fun being bozo-bait."
They slip into their own patch of undergrowth, moving through it suspiciously easily. They'lll choose their moment carefully.
Carnelian. It suits them.
She winks, voice ringing out in the night. "There's definitely something out here! I can take 'em, but be on–" she cuts herself off, putting on what she hopes is a convincing air of alarm. "oh FUCK, get out here!"
She hastens to her hiding spot–if she's crashing through the underbrush she hopes he'll assume it's the sounds of a fight–and nestles quickly among the leaves and vines, sufficiently out of sight.
Quiet. Quiet. Heavy footfalls. He's on his way.
The bozo's path into the woods is as loud and obvious to Carnelian's enhanced senses as if he'd had cowbells tied to every limb. Their grin widens, tongue flickering out to wet their lips, and moves into action.
Sir Bozo crashes into the clearing where they'd been, breathing heavily. "What the fuck? Where's-"
He freezes as a sound rumbles out from the undergrowth - a growl, deep and low, the kind of noise which turns guts to liquid. His panicked gaze flickers over the dark leaves and spots, amongst them, a pair of glowing eyes. He makes a strangled sound, turns to run - and behind him something bursts out of the trees to chase.
The woods are alive with movement, as if an entire pack of monsters is chasing him down - thrashing branches and leaves, the crack of branches and wild movement which suggest huge bodies moving through spaces too small for them. The sounds too come from everywhere, snarling growls chasing the hapless prey onwards, deeper into the dark trees, his fear leaving the stink of itself behind like a beacon to follow.
She peers through the brush, trying her best to watch the commotion, but hearing more than seeing in the darkness.
The snarl seems to vibrate in her chest. What in the hells?
Dane has half a mind to abandon her hiding spot; she has no intention of leaving the man to fend for himself against a large predator, but... the noise seems to be coming from where Carnelian slipped off to. Maybe with all their time in the woods they've learned to mimic animal calls? Could be useful.
Then more. The sounds of leaves rustling and branches snapping in all directions–but something's off.
The back of her neck prickles with unease as much at the wrongness of the sound as her inability to pinpoint it.
There are no footfalls.
Something making that much racket would be big. Heavy. The only actual impact she hears on the ground is paired with the metallic clink clink clink of armor.
All at once it clicks. It's an illusion. Son of a bitch, they have magic.
Carn doesn't even need the stink of Bozo's fear to follow him, but it helps. They herd him skillfully along, carefully positioning the movement of trees and bushes to make sure he doesn't veer off too deep into the woods - just deep enough into the trees that the light is gone.
And then, finally, they herd him out again.
Bozo breaks free of the trees bordering the town again and stumbles with the sudden shock of it, jelly-legged - before booking it back towards the gates with a scream. Back in the treeline, Carn drops out of their shapeshift, breathing heavily and grinning. They can't maintain something that size for very long, but sometimes the effect is worth it. They stretch luxuriously, and then turn to make their way back through the trees towards Dane, whistling cheerfully. It's a good day.
They've moved too far off for Dane to see, but the panicked cry still reaches her ears in the night.
Chuckling, she extracts herself from the brambles and stretches, gauntleted hands pressed to her lower back. She moves to lean against the thick trunk of a nearby tree, awaiting Carnelian's return.
When they find her, she's got her arms crossed, shaking her head as if prepared to scold them, but there's no malice behind her eyes—a grin creeps across her face as they draw nearer. She laughs, "One of these days I'll remember a lack of steel doesn't mean a lack of power."
They grin. "Oh, decidedly not. I'm not sure if he literally pissed himself or not, but it was close. A little dribble at minimum." They smirk. "You'll have to tell me what his face looks like when you tell him you weren't there and heard nothing."
Now that the immediate window for mischief has close, they eye her lazily up and down, mimicking her posture against a tree, arms folded. "So, Ser Vuurgast. What now?"
"Good enough for me!" She snorts a laugh "If he's embarrassed enough he won't mention too many details to anyone else. Including how long I've been away from my post."
She holds up a hand as if swearing an oath, but doesn't adjust her relaxed posture. "You have my word, you'll hear every detail."
Dane doesn't squirm under their gaze as some would, just lets them look, watching their face as she waits for eye contact to return. "Mm. Dunno." She smirks, a crooked sort of thing, eyes half-lidded. "What's a pretty thing like you usually do when they find themselves alone with someone in the woods? When you aren't scaring the piss out of 'em, that is."
"Depends if the other person is also a pretty thing," Carn says, with a grin. They stroll forwards to loop their arms lazily around her neck - no attempt to play coy here. "And then I like getting creative. Though if you don't know what you want to do..." They give an exaggerated shrug, pulling away again.
Dane hums appreciatively at the proximity, eyes flicking just briefly to Carnelian's lips as they speak.
They smell of summer. Bright and warm at once. Almost like wassail.
She rolls her eyes at the jest, but grins, voice dipping once again to a low, smoky timbre. "You didn't ask what I wanted, Carnelian. You asked what's next."
"Well then, shall I try again? What do you want, Ser Vuurgast?" Their tongue flickers out to wet their lips, swaying back towards her once again. This time they press themself against her properly, grinning. "I thought perhaps you might not know that, either."
She chuckles, low and warm in her throat.
Her hands move to grip their waist as if on instinct as Carnelian closes the distance, thumbs rubbing slow circles on their hip bones.
"I want what I always want..." she tips her head, her lips just brushing theirs as her volume falls to a murmur, "you wanna see how good you can feel too?"
"Always," they murmur, breath warm against her lips.
They press forward slightly, chasing the kiss - slow at first, then more eagerly, hungry to taste her mouth. There's a simplicity in this which they enjoy; it's just about feeling good. That's simple. That's easy. That's fun.
"Much as I love the armour, you're wearing too much of it," they mumble into her mouth. Thankfully, steel doesn't affect them in the same way as cold iron does. It is still in the way of their hands, though.
She smiles through the kiss, mirroring the shift in intensity–all lips and tongue and teeth. It's good to just feel. To make someone feel.
"Mm– 's that right?" Dane takes the opportunity presented by the separation of their lips to kiss the corner of Carnelian's mouth, his jaw, just below his ear. Behind their back she's pulling at her gauntlet straps, loosening them enough to extract her hands.
With their newfound freedom, her hands run up the lean length of his back. She murmurs "what if i don't wanna stop touching you?"
A teasing nip at his neck—Carn can feel the smirk against their skin as she contradicts herself by continuing on with unbuckling her armor.
They arch approvingly into her touch, a sound rather like a purr escaping them. "Then you should hurry up with the de-armouring so I can touch you too," they demand, squirming at the nip. "Much as I do agree that I am wonderful to touch, and I entirely understand the desire to get distracted by me..."
They're not helping, though, crowding her backwards towards the tree, pressing themself closer. They kiss her again, humming approvingly into her mouth as their hands roam, ready to move in as soon as the armour is out of the way.
She huffs a laugh, breath fanning over the skin of their throat. "Impatient are we?"
Fortunately, she's been doing this for a long time, and without a squire for much of it.
She leans into the kiss, indulgently slow, as deft fingers work to release various clasps and ties.
It's not terribly long before she's down to her arming doublet and breeches, having shed each piece of her armor onto the forest floor in turn.
Her hands slip between the two of them, splayed against his front as they glide upward to his shoulders, pushing him to lean back just slightly so she can see his face when she grins, "Better?"
As soon as she's free from the armour Carn pounces. It's still difficult to feel much through the thick fabric of the arming doublet but they're trying, hauling her against them. They can at the very least feel the warmth of her body now - the rough shape of her as a full, living body.
"Better," they agree, grinning at her as she pushes him back. "My layers are rather less layered than yours." A silk shirt and fine cotton trousers, the silk a deep saffron. It leaves very little to the imagination, at least when the luxury of touch is involved. "Clearly you're a wonderful gift, that you need so much unwrapping."
She barks a laugh. "Or a pain in the ass, that it should take so long."
Their lips meet again, and she snakes one hand around to the middle of their back, the whisper-thin silk of his shirt smooth beneath her fingertips.
Her other hand comes to rest on the side of their neck, thumb just brushing the corner of their jaw as she pulls back to meet their gaze.
A charged moment of silence as she seems to search his eyes... then a wicked grin tugs at her lips.
In one fluid motion, she steps across him, easily pivoting the both of them around to cage him in, his back against the tree trunk this time, her thigh slotting between his legs.
"I do tend to agree with you though," her lips brush the shell of their ear—voice dark with want, "This is much better." Reluctantly, she pulls away just enough to begin undoing the ties down the front of her doublet.
They let out a surprised huff of air as their back smacks into the tree, but grin lasciviously. They begin to grind themself slowly against her thigh as they watch her undress. "Lucky me, front row seats to the strip show," they say with a filthy grin.
They're not exactly helping, reaching around to grab twin handfuls of her ass through her breeches, kneading the muscles and using the grip to pull her harder into them. "Mmm... damn. Better than front row seats..."
A small sound leaves Dane's lips at the contact. At the heat of his hands—stronger than she'd anticipated.
Her eyes are roving over Carnelian as she shucks the arming doublet. "Fucking hells," she curses under her breath, frustrated at the need to tug yet another layer, in the form of a thin shirt, over her head.
That out of the way, there's only a wide band of linen left around her breasts, a narrow ribbon wound through eyelets on one side to keep it in place.
Her hands alight on his waist, not to aid or to hinder, just to appreciate the sinuous roll of their hips. Lips find his neck again, slow and warm, drifting toward his collarbone. She hooks two fingers under the neckline of his shirt and tugs slightly. "You're turn gorgeous," she chuckles against their skin, "you gotta let go of my ass anyway if you want the breeches off."
"But I don't wanna let go of your ass," they gripe, not entirely serious. They do let go though, yanking off the silk shirt and dropping it carelessly to the ground. Bared like this, they're a confection of a creature - nipples pierced with gold, a metallic lustre decorating their skin. They grin at her, sliding their hands up her stomach. "Nice tattoos. 'Bad company'? Good to be forewarned."
She huffs a laugh, taking the moment they're removing their shirt to extract herself from between his thighs and rid herself of her breeches.
A pleasant, anticipatory shiver zips through her, skin prickling with gooseflesh at their touch. Swiftly she's back upon him, hands wandering the newly exposed skin. A thumb glides firmly, but not roughly, over one pierced nipple. "Mm.. how 'bout for now I let you be the judge of that?"
They bite their lip, grinning lazily as they press into her touch. "Mm. I'm a very good judge of whether or not someone's bad company, it's true."
They unlace their own trousers, having to wriggle a little to get out of the tightly tailored fabric - not enormously dignified, but sacrifices must be made in order to display their ass at its best advantage.
"Yea?" She rasps while impatient hands roam up his thighs, thumbs kneading into the soft crease between leg and pelvis.
She had no room to tease for any awkwardness in disrobing for as long as she just spent scattering bits of armor on the ground.
Teeth skate against their throat, hot breath fanning over their jaw. "How're you judging me for the moment then?"
They actually moan a little at the touch of teeth, tilting their head to give her better access. "Delicious company," they mumble. "Much recommended." They kick off the trousers impatiently and immediately grab for her ass again, kneading the muscles there. "Fuck, you feel good. All this muscle, damn..."
Dane smiles sinfully against their skin at the sound, tucking the information into her metaphorical back pocket.
Preening under the praise, she nips at his collarbone, thumbs still working firm circles at his hips. "Mn. You're so- fuck, I wanna take you apart."
She's lost in it now, practically vibrating at the feel, the scent, the taste of it all— the desire to ruin them both.
They laugh breathlessly. "Do it," they challenge, grinning. "Bet you can't."
Despite the words, they press closer to her, breath heavy and shaky. They're hard enough by now that it's making them feel a little unsteady. "Uh." Wait, does she want them to have a cock? Maybe they should have checked. But now it feels like it would be an awkward time to introduce that particular question...
She thrills at the challenge, "Oh?" Her voice low, dangerous. "You don't think so?"
Her knees hit the ground so hard Carnelian has to imagine it hurt, but she barely notices. She considers for an amused moment he might not have expected this of her.
Warm hands find his hips again, pressing him firmly against the tree at his back as a silent stay, and, slowly—frustratingly slowly; she's fighting to stay focused in spite of the heat of want between her legs— she's mouthing up his thighs.
Just a handsbreadth shy of where she's sure they'd really like her mouth to be, she laves her tongue over the thin skin of his inner thigh, looks up at them through her eyelashes, and bites.
"Gnhh-!"
They so nearly lose it right there and then, hips jerking involuntarily upwards. They press themselves back against the tree, panting as they try to pull themselves back under control. "F-fuck," they manage dazedly. "Do that - do that again." They reach down to grip the base of their cock hard, trying to keep themself under control.
Dane chuckles darky, pulling back just enough to look Carnelian in the eye, and– oh. He was a sight; sinful with those oddly fiery eyes blown black with desire.
She makes strangled sort of sound, acutely aware of her own arousal, but fuck she needed to pull that noise out of him again.
She presses forward, mouthing at the thin skin just to the right of his cock, feeling the heat of his skin on her cheek as her nose brushes his fingertips. "If I do," her voice comes out hoarse; gods but she must look just as affected, "you still gonna have it in you to fuck me after?"
She grazes her teeth—barely there— against the twin spot of his other thigh as she waits for a reply.
"Hhhahh- fuck, I'm not even sure - but I'll work it out," they pant. "... real risk of me just blowing inside you as soon as I put it in, and that's - not cool, ffuck..."
They bury their free hand in her hair - not trying to control her movements, just holding on. "Very - unf-fair of you, by the way! Making me look like some - quickshot... not my fault you fucking - gods..."
They're barely managing to keep up the banter, cock drooling over their hand despite their best efforts. It twitches hard at the graze of her teeth and they moan hoarsely, smacking their head back against the trunk of the tree behind them.
"Fuck, look at you– mm, why is that kinda hot?" She's not sure if she said that last bit out loud or not. Her eyes flutter and a low groan escapes her lips at the tug of his hand in her hair.
She squeezes her eyes shut for a second, willing herself to stay lucid. "Do I win the bet then?"
Without waiting for a response, she does sink her teeth into the flesh of his thigh, punctuating with an Indulgent, slow suck at the skin there.
They lose it.
If the bite hadn't been enough to send them over the edge, what followed would have been. They come with a strangled moan, inadvertently pressing Dane's head closer, fingers tangled in her hair. His grip on his cock does nothing whatsoever to delay the inevitable - all it does, thanks to the way he's gripping it, is direct the mess over his own abdomen rather than over Dane.
They slump back against the tree, dazed and dripping. "Fuck." Their voice is shaky and slightly awed as they stare down at her.
Dane smiles through the moan that leaves her as Carnelian spills over, fist tight in her hair.
She's doesn't pull back for a second. Nearly delirious with desire, anything she can do to keep the energy, the tension, she's going for it.
She shifts her weight to get her feet beneath her, planting wet open-mouthed kisses from where she began at his thigh, across his abdomen, laving her tongue over a nipple. When she's fully upright again, on admittedly shakey legs, she presses fully against them, lips brushing their ear.
"You– hhm– you wanna answer my question, gorgeous?"
He grabs at her as she makes her way upright, greedy for more touch, more anything - his cock is making a valiant attempt at recovering, his hips still jerking at each new shred of sensation.
"You win," they pant, clutching at her hips. "Fuck. There's no way I could argue otherwise. You win." They drag her into a sloppy, breathless kiss, careless of the mess they're making as they grind themself against her.
"Need to be inside you," they manage as they pull back for a second, before chasing her mouth again.
She leans into their touch, eager for anything he'll give her as long as its more.
Panting into the kiss, she breathes "Mn- so don't–hhah.. don't agrue". Her hands leave his skin, but she doesn't move from his lips. She's unlacing her underthings, letting them fall unceremoniously to her feet. "Can't believe I still– nnh– have these on.
She presses against them again, skin to skin, blissfully bare. "Fuck okay– we need to be horizontal like now.
Carnelian pulls away, looking around - nowhere close looks suitable. With a grumble he stomps his foot on the ground, his magic racing outwards. Thick, green moss blooms a carpet across a nearby patch of ground, thick enough to act as a reasonable cushion for activities. They drag Dane closer, grinning, and flop down on the moss, looking up at her. "How's this?"
Earthy scents of oak and dark loam hang thick in the midnight air. The Dusk Watch is a shift that only gets more dull as it goes on—people shuttering their windows before bed mirroring the birds roosting for the night—until all the world is hushed and it's the sentry's duty to resist the gentle lull toward complacency. There are good reasons they're posted in twos. Sir Dead-Weight over there must be half a dozen of them.
For the third time this evening, the absolute lout of a man Dane was paired with leans toward her, brandishing a pair of dice. "All I'm sayin's we could pass the time with a game o' hazard. 's no' my fault if yer afraid to lo–"
She holds up a hand to cut him off, scanning the nearby woods. "Shut the fuck up, will you?" She's sure she heard something; a rustling in the brambles, just out of view. "Probably just a wild animal, but a fight with a damn porcupine beats standing here with you. Mind your post."
She doesn't wait for a reply before stalking forward on light feet, one hand drifting toward the falchion at her hip as she breeches the treeline.
@fae-prince-carnelian
Carnelian is up to mischief. Carnelian is, admittedly, always up to mischief.
Today though, it's harmless. They'd taken a wander through the woods, slightly grumpy, after their little encounter with Sierra, Princess Margaret and the wizard; it didn't feel as everyone had been entirely enchanted by them and that was, obviously, awful. But they were back out in the woods now - their realm - and so that was all fine.
Currently they were up a tree, dangling upside down with knees hooked over the branch above them as they picked idly at a pinecone. They paused, hearing something crashing through undergrowth nearby - big and on the civilisation side. Probably a person. They dropped down and went to investigate, curious.
Oh! Person.
They slink through the brambles, curious; the plants part for them to allow them through.
Dane moves more quietly than most would through the groundcover, but with brambles this thick it's still louder than she'd like.
She pauses, scanning for signs of anything amiss. If there was someone out here, they'd better have a good reason.
Not the best route for a theif to take by far. Too difficult to come back the way they came with arms full of spoils. Could always be a lookout for another sort of crime, though.
There's movement up ahead in the underbrush. No, scratch that, the brush itself is moving. She squints through the murky darkness. There is someone there.
"Speak your name," she rasps, hand ready at the grip of her blade. "I don't like surprises."
In the darkness, Carn grins, muscles bunching slightly. They want to frighten this little - well, not so little - human. They want to see what she does when surprised. They pace smoothly to the side, circling her as they consider.
But she already looks jumpy, and she's holding a sword.
"Oh, I don't share my name with just anyone," they say regardless. "But since you ask... may I have yours?"
And she does startle, just slightly; everything going tense for just a breath before she turns evenly in the direction of the voice.
Hard to make out any detail in the dark. She lifts her visor to give herself a better view of the stranger.
Nothing about them seems to speak of criminal intent - they're not dressed to conceal. Her shoulders drop, relaxing a bit as her eyes flick over his form in search of a weapon and finding none. Her hand doesn't stray from the grip of her own weapon, however. There is something peculiar about this one, she just can't quite place it.
She swallows, and her voice comes out clear; convincingly steady. "It's Vuurgast." Her brow furrows. She's the one who's asking the questions here. "You make a habit of gadding about in the woods in the middle of the night?" She gestures with her right hand, indicating the falchion held loosely in its grasp. "I could have swung at you instead of asking questions."
Carnelian grins. Such a sweetly trusting little human. "Vuurgast." They savour the name for a second, the taste of it on their tongue - a little sweet, a little bitter, something almost earthy about it. Delicious. Theirs, now, not that she knows.
They leave it be. They hold the name within them, now - but it doesn't mean they have to do anything with it, yet.
"I do, actually. I quite like it out here," they answer, motioning around the woods at large. "You seem a little nervous, considering you're also gadding about in the woods in the middle of the night. You seem a bit less comfortable with the idea than I am. And you could have swung at me, but there's quite a lot of plants in the way, right? I bet those aren't good for a blade. The woods is a bad place for a swordfight."
Dane narrows her eyes a touch, unsure if she likes the tone in which her name was spoken back to her.
She tilts her head just slightly, listening not a bit skeptically to their sorely lacking explanation as to their purpose in the forest.
Gesturing to herself—armored and armed, having clearly come from the direction of the Gates—she deadpans, "It is. Kind of my job to be on alert." She shifts her weight, glancing over their shoulder at the trees behind. "Used to spend a lot of time out after dark actually, just never could get used to the quiet of the woods at night. In town if it's this quiet, someone's up to something." Her voice deepens to an almost smoky timbre as she completes the thought. It seems she's still not entirely convinced someone isn't.
Choosing to put that aside for the moment, she pinches the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, sighing, "Woods wouldn't be my first pick for a place to fight, no, but I have a feeling if you were itching to start one," she quirks an eyebrow, "You'd have done it by now, seeing as you've got me here. Alone."
"Maybe it's not a fight I'm itching for," Carnelian says, with a teasing grin. But she's caught their attention now, and they tilt their head, curious. "So towns are noisy, then? It's only suspicious when it's quiet? I mean, that does sort of go for the woods, too. If you can't hear nature something's wrong. What were you doing out after dark, when you used to spend a lot of time out here?"
They wander closer, peering at her with interest - her face is visible with the visor up, and they have no trouble seeing in the dark.
"So you're a guard then? Pretty dedicated to be wandering out here rather than just hiding behind your walls until the trouble comes to you."
Oh? A bold one, they are. Alright. If it's banter, she can play that game.
A smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth. "Getting up to no good, usually."
Then her brow knits together. She's not so distracted by that train of thought as to miss the other implication in their words. "Have you... never been in a town?"
Something softens in her at the almost childlike curiosity in their eyes as they peer at her. She signs internally, this is probably stupid... She reaches up with both hands and removes her helm.
"Mm. Not so much dedicated as annoyed with the dolt they've lumped me in with tonight." She grins roguishly. "Thought you might be a porcupine. Seemed the preferable sort of prick to deal with."
Carn lets out a delighted little bark of laughter. "Maybe you should've sent him after the porcupine instead. But I can see the thinking. What if it had been something bigger than a porcupine and scarier than me?" They raise an eyebrow.
They pause at the question. "I mean, I've been in a town before. But never at night, and never really long enough to take note of how the sounds change. It just seemed always really noisy to me. Just -" They wave their hands vaguely. It's hard to explain how civilisation feels for them - being surrounded by iron has a sensation they can feel in their teeth.
Something occurs to them, and they grin impishly. "Hey. Do you wanna mess with your doltish colleague?"
"Scarier than you? Hmm.." her words dripping with mock-contemplation as she looks them up and down, pretending to evaluate the threat-level for comparison's sake. A crooked smirk plays on her lips, her tongue curling briefly around a canine. "Dunno, you're pretty stunning as it is." The double-meaning of the word toward 'frightening' is a stretch at best, but she tries for it anyway. "B'sides that, if I'd have stayed at my post you'd have had him to talk to instead of me." she huffs a quiet chuckle.
Dane absently runs the hand not occupied holding her helm through her hair, nodding as she listens. Guess being outta your element can be overwhelming in either direction.
She raises her eyebrows. Maybe a bit of a scare would set the man right. "...What did you have in mind?"
Carn's delight this time is even more palpable. "Oh, she flirts! You're definitely preferable to the rumoured bozo. Yeah, I definitely got the better option." They admire her as she runs a hand through her hair, amused.
At the question, they tilt their head, considering. "Depends how mean ya want to be. Are we just giving him a little jolt, or seeing if we can make him piss his braies?"
The corners of her eyes crinkle as her grin stretches across her face. "I wanna say I got the best of three options, but that's probably not too flattering considering your competition. No offense to the porcupine."
She actually laughs at the question. A warm sound from somewhere deep in her chest. "Ehhh, as long as he's not hurt on my watch. Not sure I could make a great excuse for that seeing as I'm s'posed to be over there with him."
"Pissing his braies it is!" Carn says brightly. "I can chase him through the woods for you a bit if you like - not too far into them. Herd him like a sheepdog. Maybe it'll make him buck up his ideas a bit."
They look around, thoughtful. "If you tell him you've found something and bring him over I can torment him a little bit. Though I suppose you won't be able to watch and enjoy it if I'm chasing him through the trees, will you?"
Dane snorts a laugh at their enthusiasm, shaking her head. Almost fondly.
"Sure, I could tell him to come over here, but I bet he'd expect me to rescue him from you, even if he didn't wonder why I wasn't being chased myself..." Dane chews her lip as she considers.
Carn can pinpoint the moment the idea comes to her by the look in her eyes. "What if we get close enough to the treeline he can hear me shout for help, but I hide before he gets here? Then you can chase him to your heart's content, and I get to scare him again when he mentions it to me later by pretending I don't know what he's talking about. I didn't call for help at all." A conspiratorial smile spreads across her face. "'n fact, I didn't hear anyone else yell either."
Dane meets their gaze, resisting the urge to instead gaze at them. They're an uncanny sort of pretty.
"Course, I still wouldn't get to watch," she tilts her head just slightly. "So, I guess you'd have to tell me about it some other time"
Carn's grin curls wickedly. Are their teeth just a little too sharp? It's hard to tell, in the dim light. "That sounds perfect," they breathe, staring at her admiringly. "You have a brilliant mind, dearest Ser Vuurgast. Wonderful! Then we have a plan. You'll shout for help, and I'll wait to gently terrorise your hapless coworker. It'll be magnificent!"
They beam at her, pleased. "You'll have to tell me how he reacts when you act like nothing's happened, too. I bet it'll be delicious."
Dane chuckles, allowing herself a moment to bask in the compliment. She's often commended for her strength, or her skill with a blade; it's not nearly so often that she's praised for her mind.
She takes a few steps in the direction of the gates as she scouts for a place to quickly hide in after getting the other knight's attention.
A thick snarl of brambles lies not too far off, earning an appreciative nod. This'll do nicely.
"Deal. But y'know, I do usually like to know what to call someone before I agree to see them again." She gives a crooked grin, "For delicious exchanges or otherwise."
"Oh! I forgot!" They smack their forehead lightly. "Carnelian! You can call me Carnelian. I look forward to further delicious exchanges." They grin at her. "Have fun being bozo-bait."
They slip into their own patch of undergrowth, moving through it suspiciously easily. They'lll choose their moment carefully.
Carnelian. It suits them.
She winks, voice ringing out in the night. "There's definitely something out here! I can take 'em, but be on–" she cuts herself off, putting on what she hopes is a convincing air of alarm. "oh FUCK, get out here!"
She hastens to her hiding spot–if she's crashing through the underbrush she hopes he'll assume it's the sounds of a fight–and nestles quickly among the leaves and vines, sufficiently out of sight.
Quiet. Quiet. Heavy footfalls. He's on his way.
The bozo's path into the woods is as loud and obvious to Carnelian's enhanced senses as if he'd had cowbells tied to every limb. Their grin widens, tongue flickering out to wet their lips, and moves into action.
Sir Bozo crashes into the clearing where they'd been, breathing heavily. "What the fuck? Where's-"
He freezes as a sound rumbles out from the undergrowth - a growl, deep and low, the kind of noise which turns guts to liquid. His panicked gaze flickers over the dark leaves and spots, amongst them, a pair of glowing eyes. He makes a strangled sound, turns to run - and behind him something bursts out of the trees to chase.
The woods are alive with movement, as if an entire pack of monsters is chasing him down - thrashing branches and leaves, the crack of branches and wild movement which suggest huge bodies moving through spaces too small for them. The sounds too come from everywhere, snarling growls chasing the hapless prey onwards, deeper into the dark trees, his fear leaving the stink of itself behind like a beacon to follow.
She peers through the brush, trying her best to watch the commotion, but hearing more than seeing in the darkness.
The snarl seems to vibrate in her chest. What in the hells?
Dane has half a mind to abandon her hiding spot; she has no intention of leaving the man to fend for himself against a large predator, but... the noise seems to be coming from where Carnelian slipped off to. Maybe with all their time in the woods they've learned to mimic animal calls? Could be useful.
Then more. The sounds of leaves rustling and branches snapping in all directions–but something's off.
The back of her neck prickles with unease as much at the wrongness of the sound as her inability to pinpoint it.
There are no footfalls.
Something making that much racket would be big. Heavy. The only actual impact she hears on the ground is paired with the metallic clink clink clink of armor.
All at once it clicks. It's an illusion. Son of a bitch, they have magic.
Carn doesn't even need the stink of Bozo's fear to follow him, but it helps. They herd him skillfully along, carefully positioning the movement of trees and bushes to make sure he doesn't veer off too deep into the woods - just deep enough into the trees that the light is gone.
And then, finally, they herd him out again.
Bozo breaks free of the trees bordering the town again and stumbles with the sudden shock of it, jelly-legged - before booking it back towards the gates with a scream. Back in the treeline, Carn drops out of their shapeshift, breathing heavily and grinning. They can't maintain something that size for very long, but sometimes the effect is worth it. They stretch luxuriously, and then turn to make their way back through the trees towards Dane, whistling cheerfully. It's a good day.
They've moved too far off for Dane to see, but the panicked cry still reaches her ears in the night.
Chuckling, she extracts herself from the brambles and stretches, gauntleted hands pressed to her lower back. She moves to lean against the thick trunk of a nearby tree, awaiting Carnelian's return.
When they find her, she's got her arms crossed, shaking her head as if prepared to scold them, but there's no malice behind her eyes—a grin creeps across her face as they draw nearer. She laughs, "One of these days I'll remember a lack of steel doesn't mean a lack of power."
They grin. "Oh, decidedly not. I'm not sure if he literally pissed himself or not, but it was close. A little dribble at minimum." They smirk. "You'll have to tell me what his face looks like when you tell him you weren't there and heard nothing."
Now that the immediate window for mischief has close, they eye her lazily up and down, mimicking her posture against a tree, arms folded. "So, Ser Vuurgast. What now?"
"Good enough for me!" She snorts a laugh "If he's embarrassed enough he won't mention too many details to anyone else. Including how long I've been away from my post."
She holds up a hand as if swearing an oath, but doesn't adjust her relaxed posture. "You have my word, you'll hear every detail."
Dane doesn't squirm under their gaze as some would, just lets them look, watching their face as she waits for eye contact to return. "Mm. Dunno." She smirks, a crooked sort of thing, eyes half-lidded. "What's a pretty thing like you usually do when they find themselves alone with someone in the woods? When you aren't scaring the piss out of 'em, that is."
"Depends if the other person is also a pretty thing," Carn says, with a grin. They stroll forwards to loop their arms lazily around her neck - no attempt to play coy here. "And then I like getting creative. Though if you don't know what you want to do..." They give an exaggerated shrug, pulling away again.
Dane hums appreciatively at the proximity, eyes flicking just briefly to Carnelian's lips as they speak.
They smell of summer. Bright and warm at once. Almost like wassail.
She rolls her eyes at the jest, but grins, voice dipping once again to a low, smoky timbre. "You didn't ask what I wanted, Carnelian. You asked what's next."
"Well then, shall I try again? What do you want, Ser Vuurgast?" Their tongue flickers out to wet their lips, swaying back towards her once again. This time they press themself against her properly, grinning. "I thought perhaps you might not know that, either."
She chuckles, low and warm in her throat.
Her hands move to grip their waist as if on instinct as Carnelian closes the distance, thumbs rubbing slow circles on their hip bones.
"I want what I always want..." she tips her head, her lips just brushing theirs as her volume falls to a murmur, "you wanna see how good you can feel too?"
"Always," they murmur, breath warm against her lips.
They press forward slightly, chasing the kiss - slow at first, then more eagerly, hungry to taste her mouth. There's a simplicity in this which they enjoy; it's just about feeling good. That's simple. That's easy. That's fun.
"Much as I love the armour, you're wearing too much of it," they mumble into her mouth. Thankfully, steel doesn't affect them in the same way as cold iron does. It is still in the way of their hands, though.
She smiles through the kiss, mirroring the shift in intensity–all lips and tongue and teeth. It's good to just feel. To make someone feel.
"Mm– 's that right?" Dane takes the opportunity presented by the separation of their lips to kiss the corner of Carnelian's mouth, his jaw, just below his ear. Behind their back she's pulling at her gauntlet straps, loosening them enough to extract her hands.
With their newfound freedom, her hands run up the lean length of his back. She murmurs "what if i don't wanna stop touching you?"
A teasing nip at his neck—Carn can feel the smirk against their skin as she contradicts herself by continuing on with unbuckling her armor.
They arch approvingly into her touch, a sound rather like a purr escaping them. "Then you should hurry up with the de-armouring so I can touch you too," they demand, squirming at the nip. "Much as I do agree that I am wonderful to touch, and I entirely understand the desire to get distracted by me..."
They're not helping, though, crowding her backwards towards the tree, pressing themself closer. They kiss her again, humming approvingly into her mouth as their hands roam, ready to move in as soon as the armour is out of the way.
She huffs a laugh, breath fanning over the skin of their throat. "Impatient are we?"
Fortunately, she's been doing this for a long time, and without a squire for much of it.
She leans into the kiss, indulgently slow, as deft fingers work to release various clasps and ties.
It's not terribly long before she's down to her arming doublet and breeches, having shed each piece of her armor onto the forest floor in turn.
Her hands slip between the two of them, splayed against his front as they glide upward to his shoulders, pushing him to lean back just slightly so she can see his face when she grins, "Better?"
As soon as she's free from the armour Carn pounces. It's still difficult to feel much through the thick fabric of the arming doublet but they're trying, hauling her against them. They can at the very least feel the warmth of her body now - the rough shape of her as a full, living body.
"Better," they agree, grinning at her as she pushes him back. "My layers are rather less layered than yours." A silk shirt and fine cotton trousers, the silk a deep saffron. It leaves very little to the imagination, at least when the luxury of touch is involved. "Clearly you're a wonderful gift, that you need so much unwrapping."
She barks a laugh. "Or a pain in the ass, that it should take so long."
Their lips meet again, and she snakes one hand around to the middle of their back, the whisper-thin silk of his shirt smooth beneath her fingertips.
Her other hand comes to rest on the side of their neck, thumb just brushing the corner of their jaw as she pulls back to meet their gaze.
A charged moment of silence as she seems to search his eyes... then a wicked grin tugs at her lips.
In one fluid motion, she steps across him, easily pivoting the both of them around to cage him in, his back against the tree trunk this time, her thigh slotting between his legs.
"I do tend to agree with you though," her lips brush the shell of their ear—voice dark with want, "This is much better." Reluctantly, she pulls away just enough to begin undoing the ties down the front of her doublet.
They let out a surprised huff of air as their back smacks into the tree, but grin lasciviously. They begin to grind themself slowly against her thigh as they watch her undress. "Lucky me, front row seats to the strip show," they say with a filthy grin.
They're not exactly helping, reaching around to grab twin handfuls of her ass through her breeches, kneading the muscles and using the grip to pull her harder into them. "Mmm... damn. Better than front row seats..."
A small sound leaves Dane's lips at the contact. At the heat of his hands—stronger than she'd anticipated.
Her eyes are roving over Carnelian as she shucks the arming doublet. "Fucking hells," she curses under her breath, frustrated at the need to tug yet another layer, in the form of a thin shirt, over her head.
That out of the way, there's only a wide band of linen left around her breasts, a narrow ribbon wound through eyelets on one side to keep it in place.
Her hands alight on his waist, not to aid or to hinder, just to appreciate the sinuous roll of their hips. Lips find his neck again, slow and warm, drifting toward his collarbone. She hooks two fingers under the neckline of his shirt and tugs slightly. "You're turn gorgeous," she chuckles against their skin, "you gotta let go of my ass anyway if you want the breeches off."
"But I don't wanna let go of your ass," they gripe, not entirely serious. They do let go though, yanking off the silk shirt and dropping it carelessly to the ground. Bared like this, they're a confection of a creature - nipples pierced with gold, a metallic lustre decorating their skin. They grin at her, sliding their hands up her stomach. "Nice tattoos. 'Bad company'? Good to be forewarned."
She huffs a laugh, taking the moment they're removing their shirt to extract herself from between his thighs and rid herself of her breeches.
A pleasant, anticipatory shiver zips through her, skin prickling with gooseflesh at their touch. Swiftly she's back upon him, hands wandering the newly exposed skin. A thumb glides firmly, but not roughly, over one pierced nipple. "Mm.. how 'bout for now I let you be the judge of that?"
They bite their lip, grinning lazily as they press into her touch. "Mm. I'm a very good judge of whether or not someone's bad company, it's true."
They unlace their own trousers, having to wriggle a little to get out of the tightly tailored fabric - not enormously dignified, but sacrifices must be made in order to display their ass at its best advantage.
"Yea?" She rasps while impatient hands roam up his thighs, thumbs kneading into the soft crease between leg and pelvis.
She had no room to tease for any awkwardness in disrobing for as long as she just spent scattering bits of armor on the ground.
Teeth skate against their throat, hot breath fanning over their jaw. "How're you judging me for the moment then?"
They actually moan a little at the touch of teeth, tilting their head to give her better access. "Delicious company," they mumble. "Much recommended." They kick off the trousers impatiently and immediately grab for her ass again, kneading the muscles there. "Fuck, you feel good. All this muscle, damn..."
Dane smiles sinfully against their skin at the sound, tucking the information into her metaphorical back pocket.
Preening under the praise, she nips at his collarbone, thumbs still working firm circles at his hips. "Mn. You're so- fuck, I wanna take you apart."
She's lost in it now, practically vibrating at the feel, the scent, the taste of it all— the desire to ruin them both.
They laugh breathlessly. "Do it," they challenge, grinning. "Bet you can't."
Despite the words, they press closer to her, breath heavy and shaky. They're hard enough by now that it's making them feel a little unsteady. "Uh." Wait, does she want them to have a cock? Maybe they should have checked. But now it feels like it would be an awkward time to introduce that particular question...
She thrills at the challenge, "Oh?" Her voice low, dangerous. "You don't think so?"
Her knees hit the ground so hard Carnelian has to imagine it hurt, but she barely notices. She considers for an amused moment he might not have expected this of her.
Warm hands find his hips again, pressing him firmly against the tree at his back as a silent stay, and, slowly—frustratingly slowly; she's fighting to stay focused in spite of the heat of want between her legs— she's mouthing up his thighs.
Just a handsbreadth shy of where she's sure they'd really like her mouth to be, she laves her tongue over the thin skin of his inner thigh, looks up at them through her eyelashes, and bites.
"Gnhh-!"
They so nearly lose it right there and then, hips jerking involuntarily upwards. They press themselves back against the tree, panting as they try to pull themselves back under control. "F-fuck," they manage dazedly. "Do that - do that again." They reach down to grip the base of their cock hard, trying to keep themself under control.
Dane chuckles darky, pulling back just enough to look Carnelian in the eye, and– oh. He was a sight; sinful with those oddly fiery eyes blown black with desire.
She makes strangled sort of sound, acutely aware of her own arousal, but fuck she needed to pull that noise out of him again.
She presses forward, mouthing at the thin skin just to the right of his cock, feeling the heat of his skin on her cheek as her nose brushes his fingertips. "If I do," her voice comes out hoarse; gods but she must look just as affected, "you still gonna have it in you to fuck me after?"
She grazes her teeth—barely there— against the twin spot of his other thigh as she waits for a reply.
"Hhhahh- fuck, I'm not even sure - but I'll work it out," they pant. "... real risk of me just blowing inside you as soon as I put it in, and that's - not cool, ffuck..."
They bury their free hand in her hair - not trying to control her movements, just holding on. "Very - unf-fair of you, by the way! Making me look like some - quickshot... not my fault you fucking - gods..."
They're barely managing to keep up the banter, cock drooling over their hand despite their best efforts. It twitches hard at the graze of her teeth and they moan hoarsely, smacking their head back against the trunk of the tree behind them.
"Fuck, look at you– mm, why is that kinda hot?" She's not sure if she said that last bit out loud or not. Her eyes flutter and a low groan escapes her lips at the tug of his hand in her hair.
She squeezes her eyes shut for a second, willing herself to stay lucid. "Do I win the bet then?"
Without waiting for a response, she does sink her teeth into the flesh of his thigh, punctuating with an Indulgent, slow suck at the skin there.
They lose it.
If the bite hadn't been enough to send them over the edge, what followed would have been. They come with a strangled moan, inadvertently pressing Dane's head closer, fingers tangled in her hair. His grip on his cock does nothing whatsoever to delay the inevitable - all it does, thanks to the way he's gripping it, is direct the mess over his own abdomen rather than over Dane.
They slump back against the tree, dazed and dripping. "Fuck." Their voice is shaky and slightly awed as they stare down at her.
Dane smiles through the moan that leaves her as Carnelian spills over, fist tight in her hair.
She's doesn't pull back for a second. Nearly delirious with desire, anything she can do to keep the energy, the tension, she's going for it.
She shifts her weight to get her feet beneath her, planting wet open-mouthed kisses from where she began at his thigh, across his abdomen, laving her tongue over a nipple. When she's fully upright again, on admittedly shakey legs, she presses fully against them, lips brushing their ear.
"You– hhm– you wanna answer my question, gorgeous?"
He grabs at her as she makes her way upright, greedy for more touch, more anything - his cock is making a valiant attempt at recovering, his hips still jerking at each new shred of sensation.
"You win," they pant, clutching at her hips. "Fuck. There's no way I could argue otherwise. You win." They drag her into a sloppy, breathless kiss, careless of the mess they're making as they grind themself against her.
"Need to be inside you," they manage as they pull back for a second, before chasing her mouth again.
(A knight is pacing back and forth in the red moonlight at Bloodhaven, visibly jittery. He has short white hair, heterochromatic teal & purple eyes, and is around 5'8.)
Vel had been out, foraging and generally enjoying the night, when they notice the knight. They pause- something wasn’t right, clearly.
They approach slowly, making sure they’re visible well before they get close. “Sir? Are… are you quite alright?” They call softly, head tipping as their own heterochromatic eyes rake over him, looking for any obvious signs or injuries.
(He jolts and takes a step back.)
Y- err, I might be? My head hurts and I'm just- a little worried, no big deal.
(There's a smudge of blood across his cheek, but no visible injuries.)
Vel frowns slightly. “You don’t… seem alright.” They note the blood and lack injury that it could have come from.
“Is there… could I help? Please?” They make no attempt to get any closer. “We could at least get your face cleaned up? You said your head hurt- did you hit it?”
They dug into the basket at their side. “I have fresh herbs and willow root- we can make tea to help with the pain…”
...I just have a headache from uh, suppressing-
I don't like tea very much, but if you think it would help, maybe... (he looks at them warily)
“Suppressing something? Hm. I don’t believe that tea is the best remedy, then.” They tip their head, looking up again, their eyes assessing. And… a little too bright for how dark the night was.
“I want to help you, sir. I… I know you don’t know me, but… I do. Even if the problem isn’t small or easy to fix.”
(Aurorian's eyes seem to almost glow in the night.)
....Alright. I'm a werewolf, for starters, and I missed the full moon a few days ago.
“You… missed it?” They blink a few times before shaking their head. “Ok. Ok. Right. Werewolf. Uh… it, uh, this reaction is… your body catching back up, then?”
That and the blood moon. 'm scared of blood moons, really scared. I also don't want to get hit in the face and poisoned again if I go on a rampage. But I neeeed to change my form so badly.
“Ok- wait who hit- no. Not the point right now.” They run a hand through their hair. “Den. We need a den.”
They put their hands on their hips and start pacing, mumbling to themself as they do. “My closet is barely big enough for me. And werewolves are larger than natural wolves on average, so we can’t do that… shit.”
The pause, look briefly guilty, then their face sets in resolve. “I know you have no reason to trust me, but… I have a room we can go to. It should be big enough. And it’s safe and nice there.”
... I'll choose to trust you because I think I'm pretty boned if I don't. Thank you for deciding to help me.
Vel nods decisively. “Alright then. Come on, this way.” They pause. “You can call me Vel, by the way.”
They lead the knight into the castle, through the corridors (doing a surprisingly good job of avoiding other people) until the two reach one of the guest rooms.
It was… messy. Clothes were everywhere, with a fair number heaped onto the bed along with multiple blankets. Vel starts moving around the room, tidying up. They weren’t bothering much with the clothing, but rather focusing on securing and moving anything fragile or breakable, such as the vanity mirror. The whole place smelled strongly of fae. And Vel.
“This, uh… this isn’t actually my room. It’s… they’re… we’re, uh, friends? Sort of?”
(Aurorian nods slowly) Right. (He looks around and twitches slightly, sitting down on the floor.)
I think the ceiling's high enough for my wolf form.
(On another glance, now that Aurorian isn't pacing back and forth, they seem just a little faelike. Not enough to be a full fae, surely, but something's up. It might also explain the design style on his armour.)
Vel frowns. They watch for another moment. The lighting was better in here and they were starting to see more. Outside they had attributed it to the werewolf-ness. Now they weren’t so sure.
They had tests for this, but they didn’t really want to start bopping the barely hanging on werewolf with iron. They hadn’t learned this knight’s name yet, even if they were loathe to do so in this way.
Even as the words left a sour taste in their mouth, they asked, “I don’t believe we finished introductions earlier. May I have your name, sir knight?”
...Have it or know it? You can know it but not have it... I go by Aurorian.
(He flips a couple switches on his right leg's armour, removing the pieces more easily than if he'd had traditional removal methods.)
Vel groans, rubbing their face. “Has someone else tried to take it? Fuck. Are you trapped? Are you safe? I- I can try to help.”
Vel watches him as he removes the armor with unconcealed worry. “…do you want help?”
I think Fulgere technically has it, but I still get to use it. She just can use it to command me or something? Why would I need help? (he seems genuinely slightly confused)
I should be quick enough to remove all this before my body changes, probably.
“I meant ‘do you want help getting away’, though I’d be happy to help with your armor.”
Vel hugs their middle. “…why don’t you seem upset? Has she ordered you not to be? I… how else could you be ok with one of them… owning you like that?”
(He removes the left leg of armour and his right arm's, starting work on his left arm.) Should be alright.
I don't remember. I think I've worked for her for at least 5 years, maybe more... she's not been too bad to me. Better than the alternative, I assume.
Vel gapes at him. “Not too bad?! I- thats- she’s fae! Who owns you! She hasn’t… has she not…?” They run their hands through their hair, starting to pace again.
“What alternative!? Free will!? Anything is better than being- than-“ they tug at the strands. “Why are you so calm about this??”
Has she not done what? (He finishes removing his armour, including his torso armour, which all now sits in a pile. He's in a blue linen tunic and linen pants with leg wraps and socks.)
I think I have free will, probably. Dunno, I'm used to it, I guess?
“… she hasn’t… hurt you? Forced you to do things you don’t want to?” Vel sits heavily on the bed, grabbing one of the pillows and hugging it to their chest, their legs pulled up. “I don’t understand how you can be so ok with this. I… I hated every second…” their voice had dropped to a whisper by the end.
I don't remember. I think sometimes she makes me do things I don't want to, but it's not usually all that bad. The other fae in her kingdom are pushier than her.
Vel stares at him for a second. “Not that bad? I… I- they treated me like a- I was hun-“.
They stop as they realize they were close to giving too much away about their past.
“…I guess you got lucky with your owner.”
Not really lucky. The others still like to get their share, and since she's their queen I think I'm sort of like, owned by the state.
(He twitches again) Ow.
Vel winces, then shakes their head. “I am… so sorry you are trapped like that. I… suppose I’m happy you are not distressed by your situation, though.”
“Don’t keep holding it back. Especially if it’s causing you pain.” They sigh. “Should I move back or leave the room? How much danger will I be in? “
..Right. If you can hide behind a piece of furniture- I'll probably be a little cramped when I shift, and it'll be hard enough for me to maneuver that you should be safe that way.
(He collapses forward and his form starts to change.)
Vel rolls off the bed and crawls under it, briefly sticking their hand back out to give a thumbs up before vanishing underneath entirely.
(He transforms fully, and a very large white wolf is now in his place, sitting somewhat cramped with its head against the ceiling.)
(It leans down and sniffs at the floor, sticking its nose against the bottom of the bed. It growls when it realizes it can't get to Vel, and retreats, scratching its claws lightly against the floor.)
There’s a chirrup from under the bed, distinctly more animal, fox-like, than human. The sound is of greeting, something placating and an assuring that Aurorian is welcome and in charge in this den.
(Its ears perk up and it tilts its head as best as it can manage in its cramped position. This has seemed to placate it a little, no longer tempting it to go after Vel. Though, it remains a little suspicious of them.)
There’s some shuffling from under the bed before green eyes peek out. They were still far enough back to be safe, but now more visible.
Another fox chirp and a whine. Submission and letting it know that they’re not a threat.
Vel didn’t really intended to submit to this wolf, but it was best that they work with it rather than against it- after all, they knew too well that they certainly wouldn’t win a fight with it. And they did want to try to be friends.
(The wolf leans down again and peers at them with one big purple eye, making a small snuffling noise as it sniffs.)
(It elects to lay down as much as it can in the room, whining aimlessly.)
Vel pokes their hand out to let it sniff, and if it was willing, a pat. “I know big guy. I know this sucks. But isn’t this nice? Cozy den- safe, warm, comfortable enough for the night? And you’re not alone. Not alone in this. I’m here. It’s going to be ok.”
(It allows a pat and licks their whole hand in one go.)
@fae-prince-carnelian
"Uh-"
This is the moment when Carn opens the door to their room. They blink at the gigantic... wolf... on their floor, its muzzle stuck under the bed.
"... what the fuck...?"
( @velkynsisirn )
Vel wriggles until their face is poking out from under the bed. “Oh. Uh… hi Carn. I, um… it’s a long story. But, uh… he needed somewhere to go. I couldn’t leave him outside.”
They give the fae their best puppy eyes. “I’m sorry. Please let him stay?”
( @fae-prince-carnelian or @knighted-lavender-auroras I’m not sure who goes next)
(The wolf lifts its head and turns to Carnelian, looking at them with suspicion.)
( @fae-prince-carnelian if you want to bounce off here or Vel's response)
"... so you brought a giant wolf into my room?" Carn says, bemused. "And why are you under the bed?"
They give the wolf a hard stare, purely because it's watching him suspiciously.
( @velkynsisirn - makes sense for it to be you-Aurorian-me :) )
“Uh… yeah. Thats… sorta what happened. He’s, uh… kinda a werewolf thats having to deal with the blood moon right now. He needed a safe den. And I couldn’t take him to my closet because he wouldnt fit in there.”
They tap their fingers on the floor nervously. “And I’m under the bed so he could adjust to me without risking being bit or eaten.”
@knighted-lavender-auroras
(It huffs and stands slowly in the room, trying not to hit its head. It snaps its jaws in Carnelian’s direction.)
( @fae-prince-carnelian )
"Hey! Don't be rude, this is my room!" Carnelian wags a finger at the wolf. ... actually, now that they're paying attention, it feels kind of... familiar. "... wait, don't I know you? You're Fulgere's pet, we met at the Ball, right?"
Something else occurs to them and they look at Vel. "What do you mean, your closet?"
( @velkynsisirn )
They reach out and pat the part of Aurorian they can reach- a paw. “Please be nice? He’s… my friend. Sort of.”
Then they turn back to Carn “I’m talking about the closet I sleep in most nights. I wasn’t exactly invited here, so it’s not like they had a room for me.” They fold their hands and rest their head on them with a shrug.
( @knighted-lavender-auroras )
(At the pet comment, the wolf tries to nip at Carnelian, not minding the attempt at placating this time.)
( @fae-prince-carnelian )
"Wh- hey!! You're way too big for that to be funny!" They scuttle backwards, scowling at the wolf. "I won't even taste good!"
They're almost immediately distracted by Vel's answer. "You what?! You're not allowed to sleep in a closet, you dummy. I have a whole room! You can- wait, you kind of already are using it as your own, aren't you? You've put a wolf in it. A bitey one with an attitude!" they add, scowling at Aurorian.
( @velkynsisirn )
Vel flushes, clearly embarrassed. “I- well- you weren’t here! And your bed is much comfier than the thin mattress I managed to drag into my room. I, um… I didn’t think you’d mind.”
They scoot back under the bed. “Sorry. Aurorian needed somewhere to go and I couldn’t think of anywhere else. And part of my brain started thinking of here as a den and… sorry.”
@knighted-lavender-auroras
(It tries to push Carnelian over with a paw.)
( @fae-prince-carnelian )
"Hey!!" He flails crossly, but is distracted by Vel. "And hey you! Don't look all-" he sighs. "I'm not mad at you, okay? I'm glad you're using the room. I don't mind, you're right. So keep using it. Even if you put big stupid wolves in it." He glares up at Aurorian, which would probably be more menacing if he wasn't currently on his back, on the ground, squished beneath its paw.
( @velkynsisirn )
It doesn't take Carnelian long to find Vel - he has a good awareness of anything which touches the woods, and Vel's not far from them right now. He zips easily through the trees until he reaches the edge, setting himself down and making his way out in search of them.
"Vel!" He plops cheerfully down next to them. "Hello. Are you busy right now? I have a friend who needs you to touch some iron for him."
( @velkynsisirn )
Vel looks up at him, their brows furrowing in confusion. "I'm not, but... is that a euphemism?Because if it is, I'm not so sure I want to "meet" this friend right now..."
"Huh? No, I mean all his shit is currently in an iron safe and neither of us can touch it," Carnelian says, bemused. "A euphemism for what? If you mean fucking then I don't think that even makes sense. And also I wouldn't just wander up to you and go 'hey do you wanna fuck a guy?', that's kinda weird." He considers. "Well, I mean. I might, but only if you'd said you wanted me to, and we haven't had that conversation."
Vel shrugs. “I don’t know. I heard all sorts of weird euphemisms during the ball. I thought maybe the ‘friend’ was your genitalia.”
They snort and shake their head. “Never mind that. You said you had a friend with a safe?” Their eyes go wary. “Is… this a fae friend? Why would they have an iron safe? It… is theirs, right?”
They wet their lips and cautiously ask, “why are you asking me for help?”
Carn pauses, tilting his head as he considers the prospect of that 'friend' wanting to touch some iron. Especially a specific piece of iron...
He shakes his head before he gets too distracted. "No! Will isn't my dick. He was at Bloodhaven, sort of, so maybe you've met him? He's... well, it's complicated. But he's nice. Not full fae, and it's only recently that the iron thing's become a problem. Hence the safe only now needing outside help to open it." He shrugs.
"And I'm asking you because you're nice? And I know you? And I think you'd be nice to him. There's not actually that many people I know around Bloodhaven, you know. Ones I'd trust to ask for favours."
Something in their eyes goes soft and understanding. “He’s changing? Thats…” they wince, “I don’t envy him that. That’s not… a pleasant experience, from what remember.” They look off, eyes briefly going distant.
“I find myself a little surprised you’re asking for help.” They look back at Carn. “Are you asking for help or a favor?” They shake their head. “Not that it makes a difference. I will gladly help your friend.”
"... no, it seems very painful and not very safe or healthy for him." Carn's brow furrows in honest concern. "And I can't do a whole lot to help with that if he breaks. It's very frustrating."
He frowns at the question, not entirely sure of the answer himself. "I - don't know. They're both sort of the same thing, right? People expect help to be paid back regardless, they remember when they help. So you're right, it doesn't really make a difference. But thank you, I appreciate it. He can't get to all his important things. He wants to give the safe to KPS, but I think that'll be difficult. I'm not going to ask you to carry a safe into town, just get his things out of it."
Vel searches his face for a moment before shaking their head and standing up. “You are certainly not like any other fae I have ever met. The other-… there is absolutely a difference. But that’s fine. Never change, Carnelian.”
“Are you sure this friend of yours won’t mind me opening his safe for him?” They ask, brushing their hands off on their trousers- not the nice ones from their night of dress up, their old ones.
Carnelian preens, though he's not entirely sure why he's being praised. Oh well, he'll take it anyway.
"He won't mind. He was was worrying about it and I offered. I told him you're nice and he doesn't need to worry. He's happy for you to help. I think he's probably taking a nap right now but it'll give us time to walk there."
He reaches out to grab one of Vel's hands, heading off happily in the direction of Will's house. He's quite looking forward to having his friends meet. Is that weird? That's probably weird. But oh well!
“You should be more careful just grabbing me like that. I do still wear iron a lot of the time.” They huff, letting Carn tow them along. “I, um… never thanked you. For the masquerade. I realize that cuddling and falling asleep probably weren’t what you had in mind.”
"No but it was nice," he said with a shrug. "And it's not like it was our one and only chance to do anything, right? There's time. And if I touch iron I'll just let go." He squeezes their hand. "But you don't need to thank me, anyway. I had fun too, you know."
Vel ducks their head with a shy smile. They clear their throat, looking straight ahead rather than at Carn. "So, is there anything I should know about this Will person? Any topics I should avoid?" They vaguely look around, "how far are we going, anyway?"
"Uhhh," Carn says, wracking their brains. "I don't... think so? He has a bird. Called Page. He... well, the rest I should probably let him tell you I guess? He's a knight. I haven't known him all that long, really. We fucked before the Ball and that was how we met."
From the way he says this, he doesn't seem to think it's something which should be secret. Or approached with any level of tact.
Vel snorts. “Of course you did. Is this the one you were referring to when we were together during the masquerade? The one you said reacted poorly to finding out you’re a prince?”
They hum softly to themself, “not that I can really blame him for that.”
"Yeah that's him," Carn says with a sigh. "He seems to have come around to the idea. Or rather, he's seen that it doesn't actually matter. People are always weird about it, that's why I don't tell 'em."
He begins to lead Vel through the woods, his sense of direction apparently unerring.
“I can very much see why. I have seen enough horror with common fae and Lords. The fact that I am… that I am holding a Prince’s hand and willingly following them through the woods would be unthinkable to my younger self. Even my current self is… struggling with it.” Their voice drops at the end to nearly a whisper.
“Have been for days.”
"Oh," Carn says, brow furrowing. He processes this for a moment.
"... uh... should I - not hold your hand...? Wait, no, then I guess you'd be following me anyway without even holding my hand." He's not sure what to say. It's an unfamiliar feeling.
Vel laughs softly, though theres little humor in it. “No, don’t stop holding my hand. It’s… good. Grounding. I… I like it.”
The wet their lips- the piercing was gone from their tongue- “It has less to do with the fact that you’re holding my hand and more to do with- with the fact that I would be even remotely willing to trust you. And yet I do. I’m trusting you to take me somewhere else. And I…”
They swallow, throat clicking dryly. “The last time I followed a fae through the forest… I lost… I lost everything. My home. Years of my life.” They pause before adding, almost inaudibly, “my Name.”
He squeezes their hand, frowning. "... yeah, we do do that, don't we. How old were you when that happened? ... do they still have it? Your name."
He had his own little collection of them, after all. He didn't do anything with them - didn't even remove them from the people he took them from, usually. They were just... his, while their original owners were allowed to borrow them. Usually didn't even notice they were gone.
He probably shouldn't tell Vel that.
Vel takes a shuddering breath. “I, uh.. ten? Ish? Maybe twelve. And, um. Yeah. Yeah, they still have it. But it’s not mine. Not anymore.” They squeeze his hand back. “It was… not good. He wasn’t… like you. They-“ their voice chokes off as they shake their head.
“It is the nature of fae to take mortals’ names. To rip our lives from us and make us into playthings and pets and puppets.” They glance at Carn out of the corner of their eye. “…admittedly, I used to think it was the nature of all fae to be cruel, too. I still might. But…” they trail off, looking ahead again.
Is that my nature too?
He doesn't think it isn't, necessarily. He just thinks he treats his pets nicer than Vel's last owner. ... right? He's frowning, though.
"Sounds like they were pretty bad," he says. "... you said they're Winter Court too, right?" He wonders if he knows them.
“Uh.. I’m not sure. They were Unseelie. I thought they were Autumn Court, but I could be wrong. I was so young when I cared. And as I got older… I stopped paying attention to those things. I was more concerned with… other schedule, for the most part.”
They sigh, squeezing Carnelian’s hand again. “…I’m… terrified. Terrified you’re just playing the long game. That I’ll be taken back to… that. To what they were like.”
They finally, finally look at him. “…I don’t want to, though. I want to… to trust this. To believe you when you say you won’t hurt me.”
He grimaces, but pulls Vel to a halt, reaching up to cup their face in his hands.
"Don't give me that power over you," he says to them, earnestly. "I don't have your name. I'm not going to ask for it. I don't want to hurt you, but - that doesn't mean I'm safe, right? I'm not human. I don't feel stuff the same way." He studies them, brow furrowed. "When I say I want you to be safe, feel safe, I mean from me as well, right? So if you don't trust me, if you feel like you're in danger from me, then go. I'm not trustworthy. I'm not nice. I'm fae. And you're right, that means something. Don't start - trusting other fae just because I've been nice to you."
He's not really all that sure what he's doing. He's just - worried. In some vague, uncertain way.
Vel presses their face into his hands, nuzzling into his palm. “I can’t give you my name, Carnelian. I am called Velkyn, I am called Vel. But I never found another one after He took my first one.”
They let out a slow breath. “I know you are fae. I know cruelty is as innate to fae as it is with cats. But the fact that you aren’t trying to trap me, that you were willing to ask a favor- to owe a debt… that makes you different. So… I’m not leaving. And I was never planning on trusting others. But…”
“Theres a big difference between ‘not trusting’ and ‘hating all of you’. You have taught me, even in this short time, that not all fae are worthy of my hate.” They look up at him. “I also know that even other humans hurt each other when they don’t mean to. But I… I trust that you mean it when you say you dont want to hurt me, now. That you do want to help your friend, Will. And… thats somewhere to start.”
He nods slowly, frowning. "Well, I'd be sad if you didn't want to see me any more," he says. "So - I suppose I'm glad."
The name thing, though... he turns it over, considering. "... I could try and get it back for you? Your name. Do you want it back?" He strokes his thumbs gently over their cheeks. "I'll fight 'em for it. I'll eat their heart."
It's not entirely clear how much this is a joke.
Vel slips their eyes shut. “I… don’t think I want it back. The reason I broke free was because it was no longer mine, if that makes sense. It wasn’t that they took it away- it no longer fit me and I slipped loose of his control.”
They peek one eye open with a grin thats a little too sharp. “Though… seeing you rip them apart like they did to- like they used to, would be very satisfying. I think I would enjoy it if you ate their heart.”
Carnelian’s tone may not have been clear- but Vel’s definitely was. They weren’t joking.
Carn blinks - then grins, exposing canines. "Noted," he murmurs. He leans down to kiss Vel's forehead. "Then clearly one day I'll have to find them for you."
Vel leans into the kiss for a moment, eyes slipping shut again before they sigh softly.
“Ok. We, um, we should keep going. We’ve been distracted long enough. It would probably be best if we got to your friend’s house before he wakes.”
"Sounds like a plan to me," Carn agrees. He drapes an arm around Vel's shoulders this time, continuing onwards towards Will's house.
As they approach, he pauses. "You have to wipe your feet before you go in or the house gets mad. Don't even ask." But he opens the door and peeks inside, trying to see if Will is up.
( @ser-william-the-third )
He heard the door open from his bed, as he was changing the bandages around his arms. He awoke not long after he fell asleep, his feet aching. Were they…longer?
“Carn? Did you bring your friend?” He called out, using a wooden practice sword as a cane to hobble out to the common area. “Ah, welcome, welcome. A friend of Carn is a friend of mine. Usually.”
He hobbled over to offer his hand to the brunette. “I’m William, and you are..?”
@velkynsisirn
Vel takes the hand, grateful that they had already removed their rings before carn even came to get them. This man was clearly in enough pain as it was.
“You can call me Vel. And I would like to be a friend, not the exception.”
Their eyes skim him, assessing, taking in his condition.
"Hey, Will," Carn says, eyeing him with concern. "How are you feeling? You're struggling to walk now?" He steps forward to offer Will his arm to lean on if he wants to. "But yeah, this is Vel."
( @ser-william-the-third )
He let go of Vel’s hand and leaned against Carn, giving him a brief hug as he did so. “I think my legs are changing now too, yeah. My feet are longer? And my toes hurt. Plus whatever is going on in my spine…. Well come in, come in. I was going to make ginger tea, but I have a huge collection of herbs, make yourself at home.”
He motioned around to his home while walking to the kitchen, still in such a state of disarray as before. There are tarps over a large square shape, presumably the safe, on the far left wall and cloths thrown over mirrors and reflective surfaces. A single lamp is burning on the dining table, surrounded by jars, parcels, and crates to hold them. Along the walls are hanging weapons from many different colors and eras, some with magical signatures.
( @velkynsisirn )
Vel looks over the area before glancing at Carn. Regardless of what they see there they ser their jaw and move to catch up to Will (not that it was hard).
“Let me. I know my way around herbs and medicinal teas. You should rest. I’ll make you something with willow and ginger. It should help enough until we know how much you’re… changing. And once we do, I can make you some different remedies.”
@fae-prince-carnelian
"They're right, you sit and let someone else make tea," Carn agrees, gently steering William towards a chair. "... if you've changed noticeably in the few hours I've been gone then no wonder you're in pain. And Vel's smart, I bet they make great tea."
( @ser-william-the-third )
“Considering I lost my human teeth within the day after my possession, it seems to be a rapid change.” He grabbed a small jar on the table and shook it. A full set of human teeth sloshed and jangled together inside. The teeth were suspended In some sort of cleaning solution, evidently being added to William’s eclectic collections.
Shifting uncomfortably, he leaned to his side, careful not to put too much pressure on his tailbone. “I know I didn’t fall on it during the mission, I don’t understand why….” He sighed again, and began tidying up the table in front of him, so the others could sit if they so please.
( @velkynsisirn )
Vel headed into the kitchen to set the kettle to boil, then came back out to rejoin the other two. They frown slightly. “Your butt hurts? Or your tailbone specifically?”
They leave when the water boils, and returns after preparing the tea, setting the steeping teapot on the table. “It could be yet another change. My tailbone used to hurt like a bitch during and after my transformations”
( @fae-prince-carnelian )
"It did?" Carnelian says, both intrigued and slightly horrified. Imagine if they got sore every time they changed shape! These poor stiff mortals. "... I don't think I can massage a bone. Or, well. Not this kind of bone."
They go over to plop down on the floor on a cushion anyway, holding their arms out to Will. "Come flop with me so you don't have to sit on your sore butt."
( @ser-william-the-third )
Will stood, stiffly, and looked at Vel. Really looked, and felt confused. "You've.... gone through this too? And it's reversable? Why did your tailbone hurt? When-" Realizing he was being a bit fast with his questions, William took a deep breath, and shuffled over to Carn's open arms. He motioned Vel over to them, and carefully chose his words. "Would you be willing to tell me about yours? I don't wish to pry, but the only person I've ever met who went through something similar is my brother, and his was permanent and not as severe..."
( @velkynsisirn )
“I… I don’t mind telling you. But I’m afraid that it’s not going to be what you want to hear.” Vel came and sat in front of them, face slightly grave.
“I haven’t gone through what you did. I was born mortal. Fully mortal, to my awareness, though I don’t remember a lot from back then. My transformations weren’t an awakening of latent blood like yours- though I helped two of my owner’s bastards through something like this. But their changes never reversed, to my knowledge.”
They close their eyes and take a deep breath before continuing.
“My transformations were different and done to me through another’s magic, not my own. I was forced to go through full animal shifts. Fox, mostly. I, um… I was used as prey in The Wild Hunt. So it… yeah. It was different.”
@fae-prince-carnelian
"You were what?" Carn says, eyes widening. "Oh. Shit. Well. That - that explains some things." He's not entirely sure how he feels about that. Probably bad.
He arranges Will so that he's more or less laying across Carn's lap, facedown with Carn's arms supporting him so that he's not putting any weight on his sore tailbone. "... forced short-term changes, though... it would make sense why that would've wrecked your body."
( @ser-william-the-third )
William flinched, just slightly when Vel mentioned the Bastards, but did not comment on it, a resigned look briefly flitted across his brows.
"Oh! Vel, I'm so sorry that happened to you. Wait, the Wild Hunt at Bloodhaven? That was so recent, are you alright? Healed?" he propped up to his elbows, chest and thighs across Carn still.
( @velkynsisirn )
Vel shakes their head. “No, I was a hunter during the Bloodhaven hunt, though I dropped out because I panicked.” They swallow hard, biting their lower lip for a moment.
“I’m talking about The Wild Hunt in the fae realm. Its premise is similar: humans transformed into animals to make the hunting more entertaining. But there’s no magic weapons that do no harm. No overseers making sure everyone is ok. No rules. Just fear and running and pain. They heal you after if you’re a valued pet. I was. I was healed to the point that I don’t even have scars. Kept pristine.”
“But that doesn’t take away the feeling of piercing, of ripping-“ their words choke off with a shuddering breath, and they squeeze their eyes shut. “I was hunted for sport for years and I don’t even have any scars to show for it.” Their voice cracks.
( @fae-prince-carnelian )
Carnelian eyes them unhappily, then holds out an arm to them. "Come here, Vel." His voice is uncharacteristically gentle, but he hates seeing them like this. Will can have his lap, but he can still hug Vel.
"... I'm sorry there's no physical proof of what happened to you, even. I..." He trails off. "... I'm sorry."
( @ser-william-the-third )
Earthy scents of oak and dark loam hang thick in the midnight air. The Dusk Watch is a shift that only gets more dull as it goes on—people shuttering their windows before bed mirroring the birds roosting for the night—until all the world is hushed and it's the sentry's duty to resist the gentle lull toward complacency. There are good reasons they're posted in twos. Sir Dead-Weight over there must be half a dozen of them.
For the third time this evening, the absolute lout of a man Dane was paired with leans toward her, brandishing a pair of dice. "All I'm sayin's we could pass the time with a game o' hazard. 's no' my fault if yer afraid to lo–"
She holds up a hand to cut him off, scanning the nearby woods. "Shut the fuck up, will you?" She's sure she heard something; a rustling in the brambles, just out of view. "Probably just a wild animal, but a fight with a damn porcupine beats standing here with you. Mind your post."
She doesn't wait for a reply before stalking forward on light feet, one hand drifting toward the falchion at her hip as she breeches the treeline.
@fae-prince-carnelian
Carnelian is up to mischief. Carnelian is, admittedly, always up to mischief.
Today though, it's harmless. They'd taken a wander through the woods, slightly grumpy, after their little encounter with Sierra, Princess Margaret and the wizard; it didn't feel as everyone had been entirely enchanted by them and that was, obviously, awful. But they were back out in the woods now - their realm - and so that was all fine.
Currently they were up a tree, dangling upside down with knees hooked over the branch above them as they picked idly at a pinecone. They paused, hearing something crashing through undergrowth nearby - big and on the civilisation side. Probably a person. They dropped down and went to investigate, curious.
Oh! Person.
They slink through the brambles, curious; the plants part for them to allow them through.
Dane moves more quietly than most would through the groundcover, but with brambles this thick it's still louder than she'd like.
She pauses, scanning for signs of anything amiss. If there was someone out here, they'd better have a good reason.
Not the best route for a theif to take by far. Too difficult to come back the way they came with arms full of spoils. Could always be a lookout for another sort of crime, though.
There's movement up ahead in the underbrush. No, scratch that, the brush itself is moving. She squints through the murky darkness. There is someone there.
"Speak your name," she rasps, hand ready at the grip of her blade. "I don't like surprises."
In the darkness, Carn grins, muscles bunching slightly. They want to frighten this little - well, not so little - human. They want to see what she does when surprised. They pace smoothly to the side, circling her as they consider.
But she already looks jumpy, and she's holding a sword.
"Oh, I don't share my name with just anyone," they say regardless. "But since you ask... may I have yours?"
And she does startle, just slightly; everything going tense for just a breath before she turns evenly in the direction of the voice.
Hard to make out any detail in the dark. She lifts her visor to give herself a better view of the stranger.
Nothing about them seems to speak of criminal intent - they're not dressed to conceal. Her shoulders drop, relaxing a bit as her eyes flick over his form in search of a weapon and finding none. Her hand doesn't stray from the grip of her own weapon, however. There is something peculiar about this one, she just can't quite place it.
She swallows, and her voice comes out clear; convincingly steady. "It's Vuurgast." Her brow furrows. She's the one who's asking the questions here. "You make a habit of gadding about in the woods in the middle of the night?" She gestures with her right hand, indicating the falchion held loosely in its grasp. "I could have swung at you instead of asking questions."
Carnelian grins. Such a sweetly trusting little human. "Vuurgast." They savour the name for a second, the taste of it on their tongue - a little sweet, a little bitter, something almost earthy about it. Delicious. Theirs, now, not that she knows.
They leave it be. They hold the name within them, now - but it doesn't mean they have to do anything with it, yet.
"I do, actually. I quite like it out here," they answer, motioning around the woods at large. "You seem a little nervous, considering you're also gadding about in the woods in the middle of the night. You seem a bit less comfortable with the idea than I am. And you could have swung at me, but there's quite a lot of plants in the way, right? I bet those aren't good for a blade. The woods is a bad place for a swordfight."
Dane narrows her eyes a touch, unsure if she likes the tone in which her name was spoken back to her.
She tilts her head just slightly, listening not a bit skeptically to their sorely lacking explanation as to their purpose in the forest.
Gesturing to herself—armored and armed, having clearly come from the direction of the Gates—she deadpans, "It is. Kind of my job to be on alert." She shifts her weight, glancing over their shoulder at the trees behind. "Used to spend a lot of time out after dark actually, just never could get used to the quiet of the woods at night. In town if it's this quiet, someone's up to something." Her voice deepens to an almost smoky timbre as she completes the thought. It seems she's still not entirely convinced someone isn't.
Choosing to put that aside for the moment, she pinches the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, sighing, "Woods wouldn't be my first pick for a place to fight, no, but I have a feeling if you were itching to start one," she quirks an eyebrow, "You'd have done it by now, seeing as you've got me here. Alone."
"Maybe it's not a fight I'm itching for," Carnelian says, with a teasing grin. But she's caught their attention now, and they tilt their head, curious. "So towns are noisy, then? It's only suspicious when it's quiet? I mean, that does sort of go for the woods, too. If you can't hear nature something's wrong. What were you doing out after dark, when you used to spend a lot of time out here?"
They wander closer, peering at her with interest - her face is visible with the visor up, and they have no trouble seeing in the dark.
"So you're a guard then? Pretty dedicated to be wandering out here rather than just hiding behind your walls until the trouble comes to you."
Oh? A bold one, they are. Alright. If it's banter, she can play that game.
A smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth. "Getting up to no good, usually."
Then her brow knits together. She's not so distracted by that train of thought as to miss the other implication in their words. "Have you... never been in a town?"
Something softens in her at the almost childlike curiosity in their eyes as they peer at her. She signs internally, this is probably stupid... She reaches up with both hands and removes her helm.
"Mm. Not so much dedicated as annoyed with the dolt they've lumped me in with tonight." She grins roguishly. "Thought you might be a porcupine. Seemed the preferable sort of prick to deal with."
Carn lets out a delighted little bark of laughter. "Maybe you should've sent him after the porcupine instead. But I can see the thinking. What if it had been something bigger than a porcupine and scarier than me?" They raise an eyebrow.
They pause at the question. "I mean, I've been in a town before. But never at night, and never really long enough to take note of how the sounds change. It just seemed always really noisy to me. Just -" They wave their hands vaguely. It's hard to explain how civilisation feels for them - being surrounded by iron has a sensation they can feel in their teeth.
Something occurs to them, and they grin impishly. "Hey. Do you wanna mess with your doltish colleague?"
"Scarier than you? Hmm.." her words dripping with mock-contemplation as she looks them up and down, pretending to evaluate the threat-level for comparison's sake. A crooked smirk plays on her lips, her tongue curling briefly around a canine. "Dunno, you're pretty stunning as it is." The double-meaning of the word toward 'frightening' is a stretch at best, but she tries for it anyway. "B'sides that, if I'd have stayed at my post you'd have had him to talk to instead of me." she huffs a quiet chuckle.
Dane absently runs the hand not occupied holding her helm through her hair, nodding as she listens. Guess being outta your element can be overwhelming in either direction.
She raises her eyebrows. Maybe a bit of a scare would set the man right. "...What did you have in mind?"
Carn's delight this time is even more palpable. "Oh, she flirts! You're definitely preferable to the rumoured bozo. Yeah, I definitely got the better option." They admire her as she runs a hand through her hair, amused.
At the question, they tilt their head, considering. "Depends how mean ya want to be. Are we just giving him a little jolt, or seeing if we can make him piss his braies?"
The corners of her eyes crinkle as her grin stretches across her face. "I wanna say I got the best of three options, but that's probably not too flattering considering your competition. No offense to the porcupine."
She actually laughs at the question. A warm sound from somewhere deep in her chest. "Ehhh, as long as he's not hurt on my watch. Not sure I could make a great excuse for that seeing as I'm s'posed to be over there with him."
"Pissing his braies it is!" Carn says brightly. "I can chase him through the woods for you a bit if you like - not too far into them. Herd him like a sheepdog. Maybe it'll make him buck up his ideas a bit."
They look around, thoughtful. "If you tell him you've found something and bring him over I can torment him a little bit. Though I suppose you won't be able to watch and enjoy it if I'm chasing him through the trees, will you?"
Dane snorts a laugh at their enthusiasm, shaking her head. Almost fondly.
"Sure, I could tell him to come over here, but I bet he'd expect me to rescue him from you, even if he didn't wonder why I wasn't being chased myself..." Dane chews her lip as she considers.
Carn can pinpoint the moment the idea comes to her by the look in her eyes. "What if we get close enough to the treeline he can hear me shout for help, but I hide before he gets here? Then you can chase him to your heart's content, and I get to scare him again when he mentions it to me later by pretending I don't know what he's talking about. I didn't call for help at all." A conspiratorial smile spreads across her face. "'n fact, I didn't hear anyone else yell either."
Dane meets their gaze, resisting the urge to instead gaze at them. They're an uncanny sort of pretty.
"Course, I still wouldn't get to watch," she tilts her head just slightly. "So, I guess you'd have to tell me about it some other time"
Carn's grin curls wickedly. Are their teeth just a little too sharp? It's hard to tell, in the dim light. "That sounds perfect," they breathe, staring at her admiringly. "You have a brilliant mind, dearest Ser Vuurgast. Wonderful! Then we have a plan. You'll shout for help, and I'll wait to gently terrorise your hapless coworker. It'll be magnificent!"
They beam at her, pleased. "You'll have to tell me how he reacts when you act like nothing's happened, too. I bet it'll be delicious."
Dane chuckles, allowing herself a moment to bask in the compliment. She's often commended for her strength, or her skill with a blade; it's not nearly so often that she's praised for her mind.
She takes a few steps in the direction of the gates as she scouts for a place to quickly hide in after getting the other knight's attention.
A thick snarl of brambles lies not too far off, earning an appreciative nod. This'll do nicely.
"Deal. But y'know, I do usually like to know what to call someone before I agree to see them again." She gives a crooked grin, "For delicious exchanges or otherwise."
"Oh! I forgot!" They smack their forehead lightly. "Carnelian! You can call me Carnelian. I look forward to further delicious exchanges." They grin at her. "Have fun being bozo-bait."
They slip into their own patch of undergrowth, moving through it suspiciously easily. They'lll choose their moment carefully.
Carnelian. It suits them.
She winks, voice ringing out in the night. "There's definitely something out here! I can take 'em, but be on–" she cuts herself off, putting on what she hopes is a convincing air of alarm. "oh FUCK, get out here!"
She hastens to her hiding spot–if she's crashing through the underbrush she hopes he'll assume it's the sounds of a fight–and nestles quickly among the leaves and vines, sufficiently out of sight.
Quiet. Quiet. Heavy footfalls. He's on his way.
The bozo's path into the woods is as loud and obvious to Carnelian's enhanced senses as if he'd had cowbells tied to every limb. Their grin widens, tongue flickering out to wet their lips, and moves into action.
Sir Bozo crashes into the clearing where they'd been, breathing heavily. "What the fuck? Where's-"
He freezes as a sound rumbles out from the undergrowth - a growl, deep and low, the kind of noise which turns guts to liquid. His panicked gaze flickers over the dark leaves and spots, amongst them, a pair of glowing eyes. He makes a strangled sound, turns to run - and behind him something bursts out of the trees to chase.
The woods are alive with movement, as if an entire pack of monsters is chasing him down - thrashing branches and leaves, the crack of branches and wild movement which suggest huge bodies moving through spaces too small for them. The sounds too come from everywhere, snarling growls chasing the hapless prey onwards, deeper into the dark trees, his fear leaving the stink of itself behind like a beacon to follow.
She peers through the brush, trying her best to watch the commotion, but hearing more than seeing in the darkness.
The snarl seems to vibrate in her chest. What in the hells?
Dane has half a mind to abandon her hiding spot; she has no intention of leaving the man to fend for himself against a large predator, but... the noise seems to be coming from where Carnelian slipped off to. Maybe with all their time in the woods they've learned to mimic animal calls? Could be useful.
Then more. The sounds of leaves rustling and branches snapping in all directions–but something's off.
The back of her neck prickles with unease as much at the wrongness of the sound as her inability to pinpoint it.
There are no footfalls.
Something making that much racket would be big. Heavy. The only actual impact she hears on the ground is paired with the metallic clink clink clink of armor.
All at once it clicks. It's an illusion. Son of a bitch, they have magic.
Carn doesn't even need the stink of Bozo's fear to follow him, but it helps. They herd him skillfully along, carefully positioning the movement of trees and bushes to make sure he doesn't veer off too deep into the woods - just deep enough into the trees that the light is gone.
And then, finally, they herd him out again.
Bozo breaks free of the trees bordering the town again and stumbles with the sudden shock of it, jelly-legged - before booking it back towards the gates with a scream. Back in the treeline, Carn drops out of their shapeshift, breathing heavily and grinning. They can't maintain something that size for very long, but sometimes the effect is worth it. They stretch luxuriously, and then turn to make their way back through the trees towards Dane, whistling cheerfully. It's a good day.
They've moved too far off for Dane to see, but the panicked cry still reaches her ears in the night.
Chuckling, she extracts herself from the brambles and stretches, gauntleted hands pressed to her lower back. She moves to lean against the thick trunk of a nearby tree, awaiting Carnelian's return.
When they find her, she's got her arms crossed, shaking her head as if prepared to scold them, but there's no malice behind her eyes—a grin creeps across her face as they draw nearer. She laughs, "One of these days I'll remember a lack of steel doesn't mean a lack of power."
They grin. "Oh, decidedly not. I'm not sure if he literally pissed himself or not, but it was close. A little dribble at minimum." They smirk. "You'll have to tell me what his face looks like when you tell him you weren't there and heard nothing."
Now that the immediate window for mischief has close, they eye her lazily up and down, mimicking her posture against a tree, arms folded. "So, Ser Vuurgast. What now?"
"Good enough for me!" She snorts a laugh "If he's embarrassed enough he won't mention too many details to anyone else. Including how long I've been away from my post."
She holds up a hand as if swearing an oath, but doesn't adjust her relaxed posture. "You have my word, you'll hear every detail."
Dane doesn't squirm under their gaze as some would, just lets them look, watching their face as she waits for eye contact to return. "Mm. Dunno." She smirks, a crooked sort of thing, eyes half-lidded. "What's a pretty thing like you usually do when they find themselves alone with someone in the woods? When you aren't scaring the piss out of 'em, that is."
"Depends if the other person is also a pretty thing," Carn says, with a grin. They stroll forwards to loop their arms lazily around her neck - no attempt to play coy here. "And then I like getting creative. Though if you don't know what you want to do..." They give an exaggerated shrug, pulling away again.
Dane hums appreciatively at the proximity, eyes flicking just briefly to Carnelian's lips as they speak.
They smell of summer. Bright and warm at once. Almost like wassail.
She rolls her eyes at the jest, but grins, voice dipping once again to a low, smoky timbre. "You didn't ask what I wanted, Carnelian. You asked what's next."
"Well then, shall I try again? What do you want, Ser Vuurgast?" Their tongue flickers out to wet their lips, swaying back towards her once again. This time they press themself against her properly, grinning. "I thought perhaps you might not know that, either."
She chuckles, low and warm in her throat.
Her hands move to grip their waist as if on instinct as Carnelian closes the distance, thumbs rubbing slow circles on their hip bones.
"I want what I always want..." she tips her head, her lips just brushing theirs as her volume falls to a murmur, "you wanna see how good you can feel too?"
"Always," they murmur, breath warm against her lips.
They press forward slightly, chasing the kiss - slow at first, then more eagerly, hungry to taste her mouth. There's a simplicity in this which they enjoy; it's just about feeling good. That's simple. That's easy. That's fun.
"Much as I love the armour, you're wearing too much of it," they mumble into her mouth. Thankfully, steel doesn't affect them in the same way as cold iron does. It is still in the way of their hands, though.
She smiles through the kiss, mirroring the shift in intensity–all lips and tongue and teeth. It's good to just feel. To make someone feel.
"Mm– 's that right?" Dane takes the opportunity presented by the separation of their lips to kiss the corner of Carnelian's mouth, his jaw, just below his ear. Behind their back she's pulling at her gauntlet straps, loosening them enough to extract her hands.
With their newfound freedom, her hands run up the lean length of his back. She murmurs "what if i don't wanna stop touching you?"
A teasing nip at his neck—Carn can feel the smirk against their skin as she contradicts herself by continuing on with unbuckling her armor.
They arch approvingly into her touch, a sound rather like a purr escaping them. "Then you should hurry up with the de-armouring so I can touch you too," they demand, squirming at the nip. "Much as I do agree that I am wonderful to touch, and I entirely understand the desire to get distracted by me..."
They're not helping, though, crowding her backwards towards the tree, pressing themself closer. They kiss her again, humming approvingly into her mouth as their hands roam, ready to move in as soon as the armour is out of the way.
She huffs a laugh, breath fanning over the skin of their throat. "Impatient are we?"
Fortunately, she's been doing this for a long time, and without a squire for much of it.
She leans into the kiss, indulgently slow, as deft fingers work to release various clasps and ties.
It's not terribly long before she's down to her arming doublet and breeches, having shed each piece of her armor onto the forest floor in turn.
Her hands slip between the two of them, splayed against his front as they glide upward to his shoulders, pushing him to lean back just slightly so she can see his face when she grins, "Better?"
As soon as she's free from the armour Carn pounces. It's still difficult to feel much through the thick fabric of the arming doublet but they're trying, hauling her against them. They can at the very least feel the warmth of her body now - the rough shape of her as a full, living body.
"Better," they agree, grinning at her as she pushes him back. "My layers are rather less layered than yours." A silk shirt and fine cotton trousers, the silk a deep saffron. It leaves very little to the imagination, at least when the luxury of touch is involved. "Clearly you're a wonderful gift, that you need so much unwrapping."
She barks a laugh. "Or a pain in the ass, that it should take so long."
Their lips meet again, and she snakes one hand around to the middle of their back, the whisper-thin silk of his shirt smooth beneath her fingertips.
Her other hand comes to rest on the side of their neck, thumb just brushing the corner of their jaw as she pulls back to meet their gaze.
A charged moment of silence as she seems to search his eyes... then a wicked grin tugs at her lips.
In one fluid motion, she steps across him, easily pivoting the both of them around to cage him in, his back against the tree trunk this time, her thigh slotting between his legs.
"I do tend to agree with you though," her lips brush the shell of their ear—voice dark with want, "This is much better." Reluctantly, she pulls away just enough to begin undoing the ties down the front of her doublet.
They let out a surprised huff of air as their back smacks into the tree, but grin lasciviously. They begin to grind themself slowly against her thigh as they watch her undress. "Lucky me, front row seats to the strip show," they say with a filthy grin.
They're not exactly helping, reaching around to grab twin handfuls of her ass through her breeches, kneading the muscles and using the grip to pull her harder into them. "Mmm... damn. Better than front row seats..."
A small sound leaves Dane's lips at the contact. At the heat of his hands—stronger than she'd anticipated.
Her eyes are roving over Carnelian as she shucks the arming doublet. "Fucking hells," she curses under her breath, frustrated at the need to tug yet another layer, in the form of a thin shirt, over her head.
That out of the way, there's only a wide band of linen left around her breasts, a narrow ribbon wound through eyelets on one side to keep it in place.
Her hands alight on his waist, not to aid or to hinder, just to appreciate the sinuous roll of their hips. Lips find his neck again, slow and warm, drifting toward his collarbone. She hooks two fingers under the neckline of his shirt and tugs slightly. "You're turn gorgeous," she chuckles against their skin, "you gotta let go of my ass anyway if you want the breeches off."
"But I don't wanna let go of your ass," they gripe, not entirely serious. They do let go though, yanking off the silk shirt and dropping it carelessly to the ground. Bared like this, they're a confection of a creature - nipples pierced with gold, a metallic lustre decorating their skin. They grin at her, sliding their hands up her stomach. "Nice tattoos. 'Bad company'? Good to be forewarned."
She huffs a laugh, taking the moment they're removing their shirt to extract herself from between his thighs and rid herself of her breeches.
A pleasant, anticipatory shiver zips through her, skin prickling with gooseflesh at their touch. Swiftly she's back upon him, hands wandering the newly exposed skin. A thumb glides firmly, but not roughly, over one pierced nipple. "Mm.. how 'bout for now I let you be the judge of that?"
They bite their lip, grinning lazily as they press into her touch. "Mm. I'm a very good judge of whether or not someone's bad company, it's true."
They unlace their own trousers, having to wriggle a little to get out of the tightly tailored fabric - not enormously dignified, but sacrifices must be made in order to display their ass at its best advantage.
"Yea?" She rasps while impatient hands roam up his thighs, thumbs kneading into the soft crease between leg and pelvis.
She had no room to tease for any awkwardness in disrobing for as long as she just spent scattering bits of armor on the ground.
Teeth skate against their throat, hot breath fanning over their jaw. "How're you judging me for the moment then?"
They actually moan a little at the touch of teeth, tilting their head to give her better access. "Delicious company," they mumble. "Much recommended." They kick off the trousers impatiently and immediately grab for her ass again, kneading the muscles there. "Fuck, you feel good. All this muscle, damn..."
Dane smiles sinfully against their skin at the sound, tucking the information into her metaphorical back pocket.
Preening under the praise, she nips at his collarbone, thumbs still working firm circles at his hips. "Mn. You're so- fuck, I wanna take you apart."
She's lost in it now, practically vibrating at the feel, the scent, the taste of it all— the desire to ruin them both.
They laugh breathlessly. "Do it," they challenge, grinning. "Bet you can't."
Despite the words, they press closer to her, breath heavy and shaky. They're hard enough by now that it's making them feel a little unsteady. "Uh." Wait, does she want them to have a cock? Maybe they should have checked. But now it feels like it would be an awkward time to introduce that particular question...
She thrills at the challenge, "Oh?" Her voice low, dangerous. "You don't think so?"
Her knees hit the ground so hard Carnelian has to imagine it hurt, but she barely notices. She considers for an amused moment he might not have expected this of her.
Warm hands find his hips again, pressing him firmly against the tree at his back as a silent stay, and, slowly—frustratingly slowly; she's fighting to stay focused in spite of the heat of want between her legs— she's mouthing up his thighs.
Just a handsbreadth shy of where she's sure they'd really like her mouth to be, she laves her tongue over the thin skin of his inner thigh, looks up at them through her eyelashes, and bites.
"Gnhh-!"
They so nearly lose it right there and then, hips jerking involuntarily upwards. They press themselves back against the tree, panting as they try to pull themselves back under control. "F-fuck," they manage dazedly. "Do that - do that again." They reach down to grip the base of their cock hard, trying to keep themself under control.
Dane chuckles darky, pulling back just enough to look Carnelian in the eye, and– oh. He was a sight; sinful with those oddly fiery eyes blown black with desire.
She makes strangled sort of sound, acutely aware of her own arousal, but fuck she needed to pull that noise out of him again.
She presses forward, mouthing at the thin skin just to the right of his cock, feeling the heat of his skin on her cheek as her nose brushes his fingertips. "If I do," her voice comes out hoarse; gods but she must look just as affected, "you still gonna have it in you to fuck me after?"
She grazes her teeth—barely there— against the twin spot of his other thigh as she waits for a reply.
"Hhhahh- fuck, I'm not even sure - but I'll work it out," they pant. "... real risk of me just blowing inside you as soon as I put it in, and that's - not cool, ffuck..."
They bury their free hand in her hair - not trying to control her movements, just holding on. "Very - unf-fair of you, by the way! Making me look like some - quickshot... not my fault you fucking - gods..."
They're barely managing to keep up the banter, cock drooling over their hand despite their best efforts. It twitches hard at the graze of her teeth and they moan hoarsely, smacking their head back against the trunk of the tree behind them.
"Fuck, look at you– mm, why is that kinda hot?" She's not sure if she said that last bit out loud or not. Her eyes flutter and a low groan escapes her lips at the tug of his hand in her hair.
She squeezes her eyes shut for a second, willing herself to stay lucid. "Do I win the bet then?"
Without waiting for a response, she does sink her teeth into the flesh of his thigh, punctuating with an Indulgent, slow suck at the skin there.
They lose it.
If the bite hadn't been enough to send them over the edge, what followed would have been. They come with a strangled moan, inadvertently pressing Dane's head closer, fingers tangled in her hair. His grip on his cock does nothing whatsoever to delay the inevitable - all it does, thanks to the way he's gripping it, is direct the mess over his own abdomen rather than over Dane.
They slump back against the tree, dazed and dripping. "Fuck." Their voice is shaky and slightly awed as they stare down at her.
