Spring Fever: Holy City of Solis

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In the heat of mating season, he answers.
6.5k words
3.84
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1

Part 2 of the 3 part series

Updated 08/31/2017
Created 01/11/2006
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wudelfin
wudelfin
14 Followers

The soul is known to be the one of the most fragile energies created in the universe. It is a fragment of what is and what is to become. This fragment is split into harmony and melody, male and female. Each transcends time and space always searching for the other. Two halves becoming whole are risks beyond what is understood of flesh and bone. If one is able to find the other only the mind creates the problems the heart is willing to risk. Be friendship, family or lovers your soul becomes complete. Now understand if they are not completed the halves can sustain life with an undercurrent of absence. So then you question the quality of the lifetime. Loki understood this well for he is a part of the universal chaotic dance. Hair of the slivery moon and green eyes of mirth he sits. His frame is tall and slender, clothing embroidered in purple and gold is relaxed. He smiles looking at his statue of his first Herald. A feather duster appears meticulously cleaning the bronze statue.

"I know of an interesting story I will tell you."

Within the walls of its many libraries that litter the castle sits the Queen Mother Cleosia Malkin. This particular one was a favorite of the other occupant, her youngest daughter, Junediai Lyric Rune-Feather Malkin. The two-story walls lined with knowledge and multiple alcoves hold pleasant memories of laughter and play. The highly polished dark wood and brass tells of wealth and history. Illuminated only by the roaring fire they share the silence as her mother reads the report of the latest peace negotiation and assignation attempt. Both clad in traditional family colors Junediai wears hers in the typical jester fashion of geometric designs, as her mother is formal. Hair swept up and pinned, makeup minimal at best Queen Cleosia's aura speaks of commanding power, her face reveals nothing as the pages turn.

Junediai stands mockingly bored in front of the roaring fire. Her elbow rests on the mantle her face resting on her fist. Flirtatious in both manner and dress she sports a blouse with bellowing sleeves cinched at the wrists, the open collar ravels only a hint of cleavage. The colorful vest compliments her small waist accenting her full hips. The matching skirt reaches her knees with a saucy split at the side flattered with heeled calf high boots. Though her hair is partial drawn up it is held by a Jester style barrette of ribbons leaving her jet-black ringlets to cascade down her back. The only indication of her mood is the constant twirling of the wineglass in her hand. Taking a lazy sip she savors the warm sensation of the liquor in her stomach. She doesn't hear the pages of her report turning. Her mind is in the distant land where the trouble began.

Dispatched to the distance planet of Crane for new trade routes, Junediai quickly came to find the tense political mood of the government. As time drew near the holiest days of the year a demonstration of intellectual force was needed for the benefit of her host. Her Consort Cieslik, in name only, was at her side. A trusted friend who skills laid with the study of Warriors Guild, discipline Man at Arms, Master rank.

A fine man of experience and great deterrent against unwanted advances from other males. After positions were established the real games began. Twelve hours of bantering tip toeing, and cock holding both parties agreed to resume the established routes between the two governments. Clearly the state of the economy within the country was poor and was used as an excuse to attack the main palace. Among the chaos Junediai and her entourage battled their way out. Just as they arrived at the port for departure the ship exploded. Scattering them to the winds. Two separate acts executed with the same intentions. Manipulate the authority of the current government. For a few precious moments she awoke within the debris face down. Something heavy pressed her down into the ground.

Coughing she struggled to move causing more debris to fall upon her. Her strength gave after a time, more concerned for her friends than herself, she tried again but couldn't. Something was wrapped around her waist. After many hours rescuers found her. There were no other survivors. Her protector and friends covered her during the explosion taking the full impact of the force. Some she would not be able to bury only her consort was found whole. His eyes were vacant but his hands kept a vise grip on her, fulfilling his promise of protection.

Seven people died protecting her, three jesters, two warriors, a healer and her consort. Each person handpicked by Master Cloves was connected to her in a personal way. All vowed protection of the Herald and Princess each fulfilled their duty. An investigation was underway within the government of Crane but she and her mother didn't put much stock in their law enforcement. After debriefing with Master Cloves, Junediai immediately informed their families in person. After the wakes and funerals she worked even harder. Their killers would be brought to justice, Jester style.

Over the next two months Cleosia and the rest of the family became more worried over the youngest princess. She didn't show any emotion at the funerals her hours became longer as she immersed herself in work. One person was found to have the knowledge of what happen. She was demon of Brina and refused to tell. Master Cloves himself found the female to be resilient then Junediai took over the interrogation, the prisoner talked after a half an hour. There is something to be said about a former student of a God.

Scares run deep within Junediai. The loss of her entire entourage was devastating embracing the pain she plowed daringly forward. To act out in her loss would tarnish the memory of the fallen warriors. She has faced pain and deception before and survived. Now she feeds off it for it told her she was still alive. From her birth she was trained the art of Deceit. Disguised and whisked away to the castle she was shown her fate as the child of the void. In defiance she grew to have no fear of mortal or God. Loki only made it worse in a sense he exposed the beauty of chaos. Ideals are false hope and egos are meant to be broken. Yes, there is to be a balance but then what is life without struggle?

She has refused any bodyguards even at the request (more threaten) by her mother. Juni's eyes are vacant and lips become thin. Her skin becomes flushed as she states

"Let them come I'm ready."

Taken aback Cleosia relents on the bodyguard; she knows Juni could easily make hell for them. In this state Juni is more dangerous than her opponent could imagine. The rest of the family isn't so convinced. Her brother calls in a favor from one of the best trackers, he is known to do anything to get the job done. Currently in the Healer's Guild training and raised off world he is the best candidate to look after her.

On the top of the ridge Junediai sits sketching the Holy City at night during the first few days of Spring Fever. She can feel the effects but it seems hollow. Lately everything has lost its glow even food as lost is flavor. Checking her watch she finds it will be quite some time before the sandstorm forms. Looking at the rising moon she estimates her distance from the city to be an hour. After securing her bag she unfurls her ebony wings then proceeds to look for the right sand dune for the picking. Landing some distance away she starts the hunt for a blue crystal. Her back to the sea of sand she looks at the temple ruins in the mountain. The wind starts to pick up and the sky darkens. No clouds in sky she hears thunder.

Frowning in confusion she looks back then sees the silent wall of shared glass and sand. Looking at the mountains again she finds she misjudged the distance dropping her pickings she ascends. Pumping her wings she races to make the ruins. The winds nip at her heels as she forces her body faster. Then just as she thinks she has made it the storm hurtles her within its clutches. Screaming she falls then is pickup by the whirlwind. Her skin burns from the multiple cuts from the fragments. Drawing in her wings she tries to curl into a ball. Covering her face she tries to breathe but the sand becomes lodge in her throat her body feels as if being shredded layer by layer. Her feathers felt as if being ripped. Then she slams into something solid, passing out.

The cavern is spacious enough for a dragon to comfortably turn around. Settling down Jarenth feels Liam slide down the side of his neck. Holding her body close to he finds the ruin was converted into a traveler's shelter. Kneeling he gently places her on the cot in the alcove of the cavern. Her body and wings are covered with multiple gaping lacerations. Her clothes ruined with blood; ebony feathers fall on the floor with tissue pulp at the ends. Quickly stripping he notes bloodstains on his coat. Checking her vitals he swallows. Her heartbeat is faint, losing blood at this rate she may not make it. Rolling up his sleeves he rummages through the medical cabinet for supplies. Blood trickles from the cot on to the stone floor. Calming the panic threatening his composure he braces himself then sets to work. Her body is relaxed as he fingers deftly work he mutters prayers to any god listening. Using all his medical knowledge and healing spells he works against time. Her breath becomes shallow drawing a blade he draws it gently to her nose the moisture of her breath barley registers. For a moment her skin seems to glow then fades.

The room is filled with paintings and sculptors of past and present artists. An orchestra is playing in another room. Someone calls her name, to her left she sees Mala, harbinger of death, sitting reading a huge book with a perplexed look on her face. Repeating her name she looks up into the eyes of her niece. Always dressed for the occasion Junediai looks as if ready to for a luncheon. Then Mala remembers the first time she met Juni. She was sixteen and wrangled her way in demanding to meet her. Curious what her sister had adopted into the family she found a fearless little girl in yellow bearing handmade gifts.

Mala recognized her niece didn't know she was dead.

Smiling "Am I late auntie?"

A figure appears behind her, a man brave or desperate enough to follow her to this domain. Mala can see the connection between the two. It is become an interesting day to say the least. There was only one connected to Junediai. What has he done to sever it?

Junediai tries to take a step forward then feels someone's hand on her arm. Turning to the source her eyes settle on the most beautiful shade of violet she has ever seen.

He pleads, "Juni come home."

"I can't leave my auntie here alone. That would be rude. Besides who are you?"

Gathering her close he kisses her, "Come home with me."

Her body feels drained and cold; heavily leaning closer she can see the tension around his eyes. Unconsciously she caresses his cheek, her hand is cold and stiff against him. Concern nips her heart confused she blinks.

"Why? There is nothing keeping me. I like my aunt, she shouldn't be alone like me."

Looking over her shoulder Liam sees Mala stand. She doesn't comment just watches.

His lips brush against her cool cheek then capture her lips for a second kiss.

Whispering in Junediai's ear "Your not alone anymore."

His emotions filter into her like a rainbow. Blissfully sighing, she breaks away her eyes heavy with his echoing love.

"I shouldn't...she needs..." leaning towards him they kiss.

She starts to feel warm and with strength returning. Her blue lips become flush and swollen sharing his breath of life with her he tries to complete the link between them. Her heart flutters then begins to beat echoing his own.

Opening his eyes a tear falls as he murmurs, "Trust me."

Looking into his eyes she feels herself falling. Nodding she agrees. Relief that he has never known fills him relaxing his grip around her waist.

"But one moment I have to say good bye."

Running Junediai stops in front of her aunt before Liam was able to stop her. Unknown to Junediai her color was returning and hair became fuller with each step. Her clothes once colorless became bright.

A giggle escapes her "I'm sorry auntie for breaking our engagement but someone needs me."

Kissing Mala's cheek Junediai lets the chill of death pass handing her aunt the customary gift, a small colorful clutch bag. Taking a quick peek over her shoulder she spies Liam, whispering, "May I go?"

Mala look back and forth between them "Is he worth it niece?"

Her wings flutter for a moment shimmering the colors of the rainbow, the mark of the Herald. His respond the same.

Junediai face unknowingly reflects joy, breathlessly she replies "Yes."

Falling heavily on the floor Liam groans in protest of his stiff limbs then begins to shudder from the chill of death. Concerned Jareth nudges him questioning. Mind unable to focus clearly from the journey from the underworld Liam gropes for his Master. Nudging his hatchling Jareth gently helps Liam stand. Trustingly Liam relaxes against his friend. Sensing the chill deep within the hatchling Jareth swallows water then huffs creating a cloud of steam. The cloud elopes Liam's body, cradling his hatchling Jareth spies the female. Eloquently shifting his massive body Junediai rises by an unseen force then is tenderly lowered into his embrace. Both feel colder than ice against his skin, inspecting his clutch he settles close to the fountain. Liam will recover quickly until then he shall guard them.

Waking to the sound of the dying storm her body feels as if being cradled in a warm, heavy blanket. The pounding within her head feels as if she was knocked around like a rag doll. Then she remembers the storm, she was.

Slowly flexing her muscles she finds no broken bones. Groggily opening her eyes she wonders why she is still alive. Confused she tries to focus on the big red blur in front of her. Blinking the great beast comes into focus. She is lying on a huge maroon dragon, naked. Before panic sets in she feels another presence within the room, a man with a strong undercurrent of power.

Across the way in elaborate fountain she sees him bathing. Her blood stirs as she took in his form. Carefully sitting up she winces but is transfixed by what she sees. A stark contrast to his body his silvery gray feathers take on a glow from the waterfall. Shoulder length dark copper hair, goatee, and long lashes any woman would envy. His tanned skin tells signs of battles. Just before she could make out the color of his eyes he turns his back to her rinsing the soap off his shoulders.

She wondered if his all his feathers were the same color. Pushing the thought aside she looks at the dragon. The tail covers its eyes listening for its heartbeat she finds it slow and steady, asleep. Gritting her teeth against the pain she unsteadily pulls herself into a sitting position. Carefully her toes touch the cold ground keeping an eye on her captor. Dunking himself underwater she uses the opportunity to escape.

Willing her body to stop shaking she attempts to walk collapsing into a heap. The coils wrap around her with alarming speed saving her from falling completely on her face. Her head begins to spin and body spasm uncontrollably. She feels rough hands on her shoulders pulling her back, ready to defend herself even if feebly her fists clench to strike. Muttering to himself Liam pins her against the wall of coils.

Helplessly she emits a squeak then defiantly tries to utter a spell. Feeling the charge of magic his hand clamps over her mouth. Calm pours into her body drugging her mind and actions. The fight seeps out of her, her body sags into his arms. Gently he scooping her up her head rests against his shoulder.

Not bothering to cover herself she whispers, "Am I your prisoner?"

Not bothering to answer he lays her next to Jarenth. By the time he covers her with a blanket she fell fast asleep.

His conscience begins to surface as his body responds. His heart rate increases as the pressure on his chest moves back and forth. Feminine moans echo in his ears, a wet prickling sensation against his neck makes him snarl. His body tightens as the waistband of his pants opens a small hand cups him. Sweet urging pleas and soft kisses coax him further. She murmurs something but he doesn't understand her words. His mind nudges hers questioning.

Responding she repeats her request, "Touch me."

Complying he should remember something. His hands skim her body opening his eyes he sees and feels her arching against him. Calling her name in wonder she responds wrapping her long supple legs around his waist urging him. Her lips part between cooing and taking in a sharp breath. Her warm hands rub his back trailing down pushing his pants over his buttocks. Her feet take over pushing the gathered material past his hips. The friction causes him to growl. Nipping her shoulder he kicks the offending clothes off. Shifting his weight she wraps her arms around his neck and shoulders. His hard lines fill her soft curves, their lips touch and sample. Caressing her face she playfully nips his fingertips. Her eyes are soft with want drawing each finger between her lips a jolt of electricity passes through him. Her musk wafts into him, the need to posses fills him. Licking her jugular he invades her. A small cry escapes her, digging her nails into his shoulders her body shudders readily accepting. His eyes close from the sensations ricocheting inside him becoming greedy his hands caress every plane and valley of her body. Steadily plunging into her his hands cup her bottom bring her closer. Biting his neck while raising her legs she mews in response. Her wetness increases as her body responds, his concentration wanes as his body builds for release. He can feel her body start to tremble increasing his thrust she strains against him in return. Her wings flutter as she loses control crying out in ecstasy.

Drawing out her climax as long as he can his control snaps when she utters, "Come with me." shouting he releases deep within her womb. Life begins.

They arrive at the Elysian Manor within the walls of Solis, the Holy City. Landing within the guardhouse he slips off, raising his arms she slips between them. For a moment he lingers, looking up she wonders if last night was a dream. The cloak engulfs her body as the hood swallows her face making her look frail and vulnerable. Her eyes reflect his confusion.

The morning after was awkward. They awoke in each other's arms. Spooned chest to back his arm cradled her head as her fingers laced within his cupping her breast. The aroma of sex clung to their skin. Shifting to face him her muscles protest. Wincing her confusion shows. He didn't remember falling asleep next to her. His expression becomes murderous. That could have been a fatal mistake. Flinching she ducks her head covering herself. Angry with himself he quickly dresses. Sitting up she looks around in a daze. She never acted like this before. Just hours ago she didn't know if he was friend or foe. Now he became a lover maybe the near death experience clouded her mind. What ever it was it has now past and reality has set in. Rubbing her arms a slight chill elopes her as she starts to weigh her situation. Boldly staring at her companion she notices that he wasn't looking at her either. His dark skin has a slight blush as if embarrassed. His movements are graceful and determine.

Wrapping the blanket around her she tosses her hair over her shoulder in a clear commanding voice.

"Who are you and how did you find me?"

Catching his attention he struggles with her words then decides to speak to her in his own.

Presenting himself to her no movement is wasted as he bows humbly "Sokeht, Jan'Ki Malkin. Ee sa fysan ko memme o na (My name is Liam Tal'kereth, I have an important document for Princess Malkin.)"

wudelfin
wudelfin
14 Followers
12