The Lady Doth Protest Too Much, Methinks

[Aver Brand]

She hummed, digging her thumb into a particularly stubborn knot halfway down [member="Quietus"]’s back.

“Implying there’s something wrong with leaders?” the firrerreo questioned, quirking her head to the side to catch a glimpse of the woman’s face. Following her gaze, Aver glanced upwards. Her mouth formed into a small, awed ‘o’ as she watched the fantastic display, fingers stilling for a few moments.

“I mean, sure, some can be assholes,” she continued as the skreev disappeared over the treeline, leaving the frightened chirping of birds as the only evidence of their passing.
“But a few good ones even it out, I think. At the end of the day, the universe likes its balance.”

With a half-hearted shrug, the former leader of the One Sith armies snaked her fingers upward, into those wet tresses and braids, and sought out that delicious sweet spot that made the Queen of the Wilds mewl like a spoiled cat.

She had a good memory, too.

 

[Quietus]

There is nothing wrong with Leadership or the Leaders my bloodline produces. We are nothing if not dedicated to our duties...the issue does not lie in our capability but in-

Beastia's eyes rolled back into her sockets, disappearing beneath their lids at the sensation of fingertips pressing into the base of her skull. It was nothing short of a reaction bidden only out of pleasure, head twisting into the stroke much like, yes, a spoiled cat.

Hnnnnnnh. She felt her skin crawl, which was a curiously odd thing to experience while neck deep in hot water.

-...our ...longevity.

[member="Aver Brand"]

 

[Aver Brand]

She smiled at the shift in the woman’s posture, letting her curl closer into her until they were pressed flush against each other. The sound that escaped @Quietus’ lips with a sigh made Aver shiver ever so slightly in response, as if echoing physically the sensation the Beastia was experiencing.

Aver smirked into the wet strands of blonde hair that she was presently buried in, and raked her nails downward.

“Don’t you ever get bored, living that long?”

The question had always weighed on her mind, but the Queen was the first long-lived individual she actually bothered asking. [member="Reverance"] was surely capable of entertaining himself, but he was hardly the norm. The Beastia seemed far saner compared to the former Wrath, and therefore a better target of her curiosity.

 

[Quietus]

Wandering hands slowly waded backwards through the boiling waters, twisting to clasp around the pale flesh of the Merc. Where fingers drew along scalp and through slicked wheaten tangles her own stroked along soft skin pulled taught over muscle and sinew.

Boredom is one thing I cannot abide in any lifetime... Beastia slowly leaned her head back against the younger woman, coiling into her jaw and turning about in the water to face her again. I used to dream of fire and flesh and blood, face pressing into the nape of Aver's neck, her right hand found purchase on the opposite side while the left pressed its way up along her front, but I don't dream anymore. Not for a very long time and I miss those dreams. They're the only thing that stay with you when everything you ever know eventually fades away or dies.

[member="Aver Brand"]

 

[Aver Brand]

She let her hands fall to the sides, sinking again into the warm, bubbling water. The sensation was truly exquisite, especially after the two days she’d spent riding from Irontown to what would soon become Scarside ridge. Her ass was still sore, for kark’s sake.

Aver hummed into the wet mess of blonde hair nuzzling against her, content to let the shorter woman seek out a comfortable position. She was hardly going to complain, now was she?

“If you need some fire and blood in your dreams, I’m happy to share,” the mercenary chuckled softly. “I could probably do with less, anyway. I get enough of that chit in my waking hours.” Though her tone was still joking, the smile tugging at her lips had faded somewhat. Good thing [member="Quietus"] couldn’t see the subtle change in her expression.

“Well, you’ve got your family, at least. Aren’t you all pushing a solid few hundred?”

 

[Quietus]

Family comes and goes, Quietus' voice said to her companion's thoughts while she wallowed in the renewed scent of the woman, remembering with great clarity the taste of blood surging just beneath the surface of that pale canvas of skin and all the euphoria that accompanied it, it grows apart just as easily as it grows close, especially after so long. I lack the maternal conviction to keep the knitting tight.

... and I am, what do they call it- she pulled back, lips drawing thin in thought, fingers sliding from Aver's neck in gesticulation of words that failed to form, -ah, the black bantha of the family? A grin now, I never get invited to the reunions.

Jade eyes considered the Mercenary and her questions for a moment. Normally these types of conversations elicited a far more violent outcome, but Aver's curiosity was different. Her entire demeanor seemed shifted, changed. Quietus surmised it likely had to do with her defection of the Sith. No more image to uphold, no more Master to kneel to. She was learning to freely live and think for herself - questioning things was logical, normal.

As normal and logical as [member="Aver Brand"] would truly ever be.

 

[Aver Brand]

She nodded, but it was the absent sort of nod; when it came to the subject of family, Aver was hopelessly clueless. She’d never had one – though, presumably, there was a woman somewhere that had popped her out – and doubted she ever will. The mere idea of bearing a offspring to term seemed absolutely ridiculous that it nearly made her chortle whenever she entertained it.

Trying to imagine [member="Quietus"] in the role of a child-rearing homemaker elicited a similar response, and the firrerreo had to fight to swallow the laughter threatening to spill from her throat.

“Reunions?” she echoed, lifting a single eyebrow. “How many of you are there?”

Trying to imagine the Beastia in something more formal, form-fitting perhaps… now that was a damn sight more pleasing, though still just as likely to make her chuckle. And then try to strip the garment, just to see how nice it looked on the floor.

“Too uncivilized for the rest of them, I take it?”

 

[Quietus]

More than I care to admit, if she saw the laughter in Aver's grin she didn't remark on it but did give the woman a poke to her abdomen with her other hand, five generations living side by side is enough to spoil anyone of their affections.

She pushed off from her, drifting back out towards the middle of the hotspring where the heat boiled intensely, figure sinking so that only her eyes skimmed above the surface. She smirked. I've burned my fair share of familial bridges but if we're going to simplify things to civility, let's just say it's been a long time since I've worn a ball gown. The Matriarch is aggravatingly insistent on formal wear.

[member="Aver Brand"]

 

[Aver Brand]

A shudder ran down the length of her spine at the thought of being crammed into the same room with so many people who knew her. The very idea was disconcerting, which shouldn’t be all that surprising when perhaps three beings alive in the whole Galaxy even knew her given name. The shadow of a frown passed over her features before she refocused her blue gaze on the Beastia, now several feet away.

She looked like an aquatic predator sneaking up on her prey, nothing but keen eyes and a few bubbles to indicate her location in the water.

Aver flashed her a toothy grin.

“Bet you look good in one, though.” Her voice dropped to a low drawl as she neared [member="Quietus"] with slow steps, her eyes never leaving hers. Then a piece of information registered, and her smirk faltered somewhat.

“Wait wait wait. Matriarch? Your mother’s still alive?” The firrerreo shook her head in disbelief, eyebrows nearly kissing her hairline. “Who is she? Palpatine in disguise?”

“What are you people, anyway? Vampires?”

If the zeal with which the Beastia had drank of her the last time was anything to go by, Aver couldn’t be far off mark.

 

[Quietus]

Quietus grinned below the water's surface. These reactions were golden and by far the largest range of expression she could recall seeing on the woman's face. All stoic and statuesque during negotiations--save certain moments of encounter--and suddenly now far more human than ever.

Grandmother, actually, she floated upwards just enough for air, gaze following the progression of the firrerreo as she closed the distance again, my mother died from the Gulag Plague. Quietus did neglect to say who the matriarch was. There were certain elements of her life that, no matter how much she denied the culture of her bloodline, one simply did not abuse.

We are vampiric, yes. Purebloods sustain themselves on raw flesh and blood. Bloodlust is something they deal with on a daily basis. It's not quite so prominent or ...driving for halflings like me, but it is still present.

 

[Aver Brand]

“You’re karking with me.” She pulled a face, scowling in the general direction of the Beastia. The woman was still entertaining herself by pretending to be a submarine, and who was Aver to deny her that pleasure?

Entirely preoccupied with mental calculation, that’s who. The mercenary scrunched up her brow as she did the math in her head. Or tried to, at any rate. “Y’all are old as chit,” she concluded, dissatisfied, and settled her gaze back on [member="Quietus"].

The next bit of information that drifted to her in that lilting voice of hers caught her attention immediately, and in the blink of an eye, that wolfish grin was back.

“So… what happens after you’ve had a taste?”

Her tone took on a decidedly throaty quality as Aver slunk closer to the blonde, icy eyes twinkling with mirth and provocation and so many things. She traced her fingers up from the dimple of her left hipbone, over the flat planes of her abdomen and all the way up to the column of her neck.

There, her touch lingered, jaw canted to the side in a manner that beckoned with deceptive vulnerability. Her eyes fluttered almost closed, yet Aver never averted her gaze.

...here?

A single digit drew an angry red line across her pulse point, only a breath away from breaking the skin.

 

[Quietus]

Old compared to you, Quietus eyed her thinly, but to the Suzerian I am still a child...

Those green eyes settled on the sudden reappearance of Aver's favorite expression. That of taunting, mirth, and savage debauchery to come. The Beastia slowly lofted a brow, catching that painfully familiar glint in those lovely blue eyes and feeling their coldness beget the distinct sensation of crawling, prickling skin. There were very few beings in this galaxy that she had met that could personify the idea of carnal desire and Aver was one of them.

Quietus felt her lip prick, her mind slide back to that state of phantasmic bliss. She could barely recall the exact taste of Aver's blood but the thought of it coupled with the physical display before her made her mouth water. A shiver took the length of spine, shooting upwards along her neck and scalp, forcing her gaze to flicker momentarily. Will absolving intensity and bridling intent, the Beastia slowly surged forward through the water, rising to ensnare the woman's middle. A hooded gaze took in the angered flesh but lips never parted to expose the weaponized pearls within. The control of her instincts and lust was one built over hundreds of years and yet Aver's blood just might be her undoing if she weren't careful.

It would be like Spice all over again. Only much, much worse.

I know you remember what happened before, a hot breath expelled from the Jungle Queen's nostrils to run flush down her neck, her telepathic tone having darkened, carrying with it a heady emphatic weight. She drew a hand up Aver's back, fingers finding her spine at the base of her neck and slowly carving downwards again along its indent, you would enjoy my addiction far too much.

 

[Aver Brand]

When the Beastia pressed herself flush against her, Aver was not surprised. Surprise would imply she wasn’t expecting such a reaction, and that would simply be inaccurate; what the woman felt was delight. Pure, unadulterated, white-hot delight.

She bit her lip and held the Queen’s gaze, not at all disappointed that the blonde hadn’t immediately descended upon her flesh. It meant she could draw this little game of playing with fire just a bit longer. Maybe Rev had left his mark. Maybe it was her old streak of masochism. Probably it was a healthy mix of both, but Aver just couldn’t resist the idea of getting ever so slightly burned.

A soft purr tore from her throat, her whole chest vibrating softly as she released the sound. Her nostrils flared, and she drew in a long breath.

I do. Unwilling to let her voice break over the claws raking down her spine, Aver instead husked over the connection they shared. The silver water where they intermingled grew ever more tainted by their mutual lust. Drops of bright red, liquid smoke.

You get addicted, then? Even from a little… sip?

Reaching up, the firrerreo slowly brushed a thumb over her bottom lip, biting her own at the sight. Her body felt light, her throat raw, her mouth dry. She was parched, and she was ravenous.

“Kiss me.”

 

[Quietus]

The consonant hardly left Aver's lips before her words were lost in those of the Beastia. There was a curious lack of voracity in the action this time for there was no need for either woman to contest the other. No titles to be thrown around, no egos to placate. They'd played that song and dance already and, frankly, Quietus never cared for it to begin with. Instead her collision with the Mercenary was of controlled intent and a hunger she'd kept in check since the moment she felt the ethereal tug on the bloodtrail link.

Weight and presence imposing upon the woman with unraveling zeal, her hands pressed down along the remaining length of Aver's back before finding purchase with firm, grasping squeeze.

[member="Aver Brand"]

 

[Aver Brand]

Just like Sith Lords do not beg, Mercenaries do not whimper. That’s what the Code says.

(Ignoring that for a moment, an objective observer would likely be willing to attest that yes, the noise slipping from Aver’s mouth was indeed a whimper. Luckily for the few scraps of dignity she retained, there were no impartial witnesses to be found. The culprit committing the deed responsible for eliciting the sound from the firrerreo in the first place was rather too embroiled in the heat of the moment to count.)

She pulled away at the touch, trying her very best to oust the frown from her face before [member="Quietus"] caught sight of it. In an effort to distract her, Aver dipped one hand lower to return the favor, whereas her left abandoned the curve of her jaw to slither into those blonde curls, tugging at the sweet spot as she sought out the lines of tensing muscle along her throat.

 

[Quietus]

Quietus was nothing if not struck by momentary surprise and confusion at the sound and the recoil. It was both a noise and action she'd not expected nor experienced with the woman, and it's placement was strange given the context of present endeavors. She was not a sadist or a masochist despite the fact that her typical mating rituals usually involved blood and pain, and she certainly had no inclination to impress upon someone her own tendencies if they did not enjoy them, let alone had the constitution to endure them. So where had that come from? Had she unknowingly hurt the woman who-

Oh for feth's sake, that goddamn spot.

Yet again she felt her eyes roll back into her skull at the involuntary response to fingers pressing at that sensitive knoll of the base of her skull. Reactive neurons firing jolts of equal parts pleasure and adrenaline with each insistent kneading, she curled her neck into the pressure and reached this time to grasp at Aver's ribs while her legs curved forward to tangle within those of the firrerreo's.

A beast call sounded over the trees followed by the wooshing of wings.

[member="Aver Brand"]

 

[Aver Brand]

The groan started out as one of pleasure, of delight borne of seeing someone else squirm beneath the skillful touch of her fingers… but as the kiss progressed, the sound morphed into something significantly more frustrated, and not in the fun way.

It was impossible to miss the shrill baying of the beast, of course, nor the flapping of mighty wings as they slowed the descent of something heavy and imposing.

Tension seeped away from Aver’s muscles like blood in the rain, and with a defeated sigh, the woman rested her forehead on the shoulder of the blonde. Slowly, she untangled her fingers from the wet strands and braids of her mane, pulling away with a lingering nip at the soft skin of the Beastia’s neck.

Later, the touch whispered. It was a promise she intended to keep.

Icy eyes opened again to scour their surroundings for the source of the unwelcome interruption, any warmth that might have been there long gone. It was replaced by the keen blue of her cold gaze, settling on the hulking form of a skreev that shuffled some feet away from the pool.

“I presume it’s here for you,” she offered in an even tone of voice, its rough timbre soothed by the humid air.

 

[Quietus]

"Hm, not the pair I was intending to find..." came the voice of Volden as he slowly ascended the steep path that lead up to the springs. The man emerged from around a massive rise of stone, his cape forgone for the beast rider's garb instead. Still high class, of course, the man wasn't a savage nor a heathen. He lofted a pale brow at the two women, yellow eyes skimming the surrounding pools and the steam rising from them, "now I see why you haven't been answering my missives. I'm here for the twins, though I see they aren't with you."

He paid little mind to the naked women, seeming quite casual about his interruption. Apparently this was a common occurrence for him. Unsurprising given the Beastia's penchant for doing whatever and whoever she pleased, whenever the desire so struck her.

Quietus eyed the Merc as she slithered away from her, hunger remaining and mood unsoured, before turning to wade across the pool to the edge where she rose to lean over the moss covered stone upon her elbows as Volden moved to kneel before her.

"Ari's hunt was quite successful today," he said as he produced a length of hemp holding upon it several large maalraas fangs and held it up for her to see; a necklace, "for you. Ari wanted to keep them for himself but I convinced him a present to his mother was worth far more..."

A squeal of giggles sounded from the treeline to the west and from it two small figured emerged to dash across the webwork of flattened stone woven through the hotsprings. Another massive shadow melted into view: Puppy, stalking along after them in a lazy gait, sniffing at the springs before coming to stop at the edge behind Aver. She leaned down to snuff at her head, forked tongue passing over wet red hair.

"Ah, there you are, little cretins, it's time to return to the citadel. You have officially overstayed your welcome at Scarside," Volden moved to snatch up the young boy by the middle and tossed him up into the back-saddle of the skreev before turning to look for the girl, "Dahl, you too."

Dahl stooped at the water's edge before her mother, smiling impishly as she hand-signed a message to the Beastia. A tiny skull presented by a tiny hand. Quietus smirked as she took it, reaching up to bat at the girl's dark braids before spooking the child away with a sudden hiss and snap of her fangs. Dahl yelped, giggled, and made a running leap for the skreev, climbing up into the saddle with a bound.

Quietus watched them go, fang necklace in one hand and skull in the other.

[member="Aver Brand"]

 

[Aver Brand]

Her muscles tensed for a moment, proverbial hackles rising as she pivoted on the spot to face the origin of the disembodied voice. Blue eyes narrowed at the emerging form, and just as quickly as it had come, the stiffness dissipated from her posture, leaving a relaxed curve of a spine in its wake.

Aver drifted slowly backwards, to the centre of the pool where the warmth and bubbles were at their strongest. Content to bask in the massaging pressure of the water kneading her flesh, the mercenary observed what she knew with an odd certainty was a very personal exchange.

Granted, by now she’d learned that [member="Quietus"] was quite liberal in her views (or, rather, was to liberal what the Senate was to inefficiency). Apparently that included involving defecting Sith Lord lovers in family affairs.

While Volden and the Beastia diverted their attention to the arrival of the children, the firrerreo pondered whether or not the blonde’s actions amounted to complacency. As someone intimately familiar with the feeling, she had a fairly good grasp on what it looked like, and yet… a conclusion eluded her with the same deftness as the bubbles of air passing through her fingers whenever she made to pass her hand through the steady stream.

She followed the retreating trio until they disappeared behind a rock outcropping, drawing up behind the Queen with a few lazy strides.

“Ari? Another child of yours?” she inquired softly, her gaze refocusing on the curious woman before her. As she spoke, Aver calmly reached up to seize the fang necklace for herself, brushing over the teeth with her thumb before making to fasten it around the Beastia’s neck.

 

[Quietus]

Had Aver asked she would have received an answer on compacency. The answer was an absolute no. Complacency was not a known descriptor for the Beastia nor would it ever equate to any version of her life here or otherwise. Complacency was a term she bundled together with boredom and laziness.

Quietus was not complacent to allow these private, personal moments to pass before a woman she knew perfectly well to be dangerous and untrustworthy in the most basic sense. She was, however, absolutely certain of her power and control over all things in her life, on this planet. There was a certainty as well that Aver was not stupid, and while she might not be wholly informed on the extent of the Beastia's power, she was at least aware of the fact that she was surrounded by jungles brimming with people as savage as the beasts that would lay their lives down upon a mere whim of their leader. If they didn't get Aver for her misgivings, the beasts certainly would.

She had also come to a certain understanding of the mercenary. Aver, without the backing of the One Sith, had nothing to gain by making an enemy out of the Beastia and was much better served by keeping her as an ally.

Yes, was Queitus' telepathic response to the query, choosing to forgo the explanation of what Ari truly was to her. He was her child by adoption and the chosen heir to her jungle kingdom, one day to be called Beasten if he managed not to get himself killed along the way. The necklace left her grip without protest and she calmly peered back over her shoulder at Aver inspecting the gift. Qui turned the small skull over in her other hand, feeling the edges of the tiny fangs - a maalraas pup likely killed in a feud between packs.

Motherhood was not something I ever desired, she admitted as the necklace fell flush against the skin of her neck, fitted like a loose choker, at any point of my life. I did not take to it for myself, but for others.

[member="Aver Brand"]