by Y. M. Roger
The length and breadth of her flowing magenta-sprinkled-with-chartreuse mane magically radiated the young dragoness’ lingering anger and lust for vengeance toward Rafal as well as her present agitation with standing on so much formality.
Finally, Runa seethed but then smiled internally all over Chiyoto, You look like a true Empress, my Treasure.
“Junko Daria entrusted with ruling Empress Shizu,” Runa bowed her head in such a beautiful show of respect that she even heard Junko catch her breath in surprise, “It has been a privilege to serve as your Heir,” Runa closed her eyes as if in serious contemplation – in reality, she reached deep inside herself to find the strength and patience to say meaningfully and without sarcasm that which she must recite to complete their task here, “We receive your life and all those before us humbly and with gratitude for all you have done. I vow to protect your Chiyoto and, indeed, our Empire, from now until such time that our own Heir should take the throne.”
Runa ground out the last words of a long-forgotten ceremony that was now clearly based in stark falsehood through her massive clenched teeth. She was unable to control her disgust with the whole pretentious and, without a doubt, fictitious thing – especially given the reality of the Empire in which they existed – as she yielded presence to her precious Chiyoto.
And came face-to-face with that which she instantly vowed never to become.
Junko coldly and with only a slight nod accepted Runa’s homage as she stood immediately with the appearance of her Chiyoto – and was promptly assaulted by the hurt and the pain that weighed on her beautiful Heiress.
And, yes, their Chiyoto was so very beautiful – her once-awkwardly over-endowed breasts and hips, although still much larger than average for her decidedly less-than-average height, had filled in nicely to create the perfectly picturesque female body that now stood before the aged matriarch. Chiyoto had chosen a much older, much longer and more form fitting black – that chosen over the traditional purple – tunic adorned with magenta dragoness emblems and chartreuse silken embroidered accents. The tunic was paired with the traditional jonpurs, but, again, instead of the usual solid ceremonial purple, Chiyoto had chosen to insert her own magenta and chartreuse band down the outside of each smooth, black leg that matched the accents on the tunic. Together with her exquisitely dual-colored mane, the outfit defined without a doubt the most gorgeous if not the most enchanting female in their line – since the beginning.
It is a shame, beloved, that the Empire will never be able to appreciate such a perfect creation as she.
But the beauty did not reach her wide and lovely pale pink eyes rimmed in those stark, black lashes and thin yet permanent black outlines. No, those perfect orbs sang of so much lingering sadness that Junko was moved to step forward and embrace her progeny – something she had rarely done in the past – something she was not quite sure of how to accomplish actually. But, here, at the end, the elder female felt compelled to try.
But Junko only just barely felt her Chiyoto embrace her in return – the younger female’s hold but one of formality.
“It will pass, my Chiyo,” Junko quietly whispered down into Chiyoto’s ear even as she felt her heiress begin to stiffen against her, “Just give it time.”
Chiyoto stood in the unexpected embrace – her mind trying to function over the weight of the devastation she felt. She tried to concentrate on what she was supposed to do next – tried to focus on what had Runa so troubled (other than her own emotional condition) – tried to visually locate the chalices they would be using soon …
Until Junko’s words penetrated her mental haze.
“It will pass, my Chiyo, just give it time.”
Suddenly, all that consumed her was the feel of Rafal’s unconventional embrace – his strong arms around her, one on her buttocks and one tightly holding her hair – his strength and solid body practically consuming her comparatively much smaller size …
“My Prince has wisely ordered your Green Trash cleaned …”
Jaylis’ words sliced into her once again and Chiyoto screamed – pushing her mamere away as her heart broke all over again.
“No!” Chiyoto lowered her voice and gritted her teeth as she noticed the gnysues stare and step back at her outburst, “No, it will not pass, Mamere!”
Calm, my Treasure, now is not the time …
But Chiyoto would not be calmed or silenced as she stood and trembled with her anger and hurt.
“And just how much time should I give it, Mamere? A couple hundred cycles in hiding maybe?!” Runa’s defiant Treasure had returned, and, even though her pain still pulled at Runa’s heart, the dragoness drank in her Chiyoto’s strong emotions – they would get them through these next few weeks or cycles or whatever it took to heal her Treasure, “Did that much time help heal your pain and realization that you and Shizu would never rule, Mamere? That you were sentenced to a life of groveling simply because of an event that happened long before you were even born? Tell me, has that passed?!”
Chiyoto growled long and loudly with her fists clinched in anger even as she tried to get hold of her emotions – small whisps of energy escaping through her nose. Her mamere stared at her with a look of incredulity clearly displayed for all to see – until Chiyoto finally breathed deeply and stood staunch and regally and calmed herself once again.
Runa chuckled deep inside of her.
May I suggest a local hunting expedition, my Treasure? Runa sharpened her talons one against the other once again.
The baited suggestion was a good distraction for Runa from the sight of Shizu – a dragoness in name only. A shiver ran through both Runa and Chiyoto as Runa sent her Treasure fleeting images of a dragoness whose wings could not have attained flight if she had tried – whose once shining mature blue-green features and accents were now more aqua and soft powder – whose commanding presence was now non-existent. When, exactly, was the last time the reigning Empress had actually been present?
“I see that Runa is not the only one now that possesses a defiant streak,” Junko’s words were quite tempered, although they certainly still delivered the desired bite, “You will both need to tamp that down when you move here to …”
Chiyoto interrupted her with an acerbic laugh that echoed Runa’s deep inside of her. Junko stopped mid-sentence and stood tall and taut – it was quite evident that she was at her patience’s end with their progeny.
“Move here? To Capital City?” Chiyoto even cocked her head and flared her nostrils in the same manner she always visualized her Runa doing when her dragoness was in one of her cantankerous moods, “We have lived too wild and too free to ever move back here, Mamere,” Chiyoto’s tone suddenly began to soften immensely as she calmly stepped back toward Junko.
And I will never allow myself to look caged and imprisoned like this, my Chiyoto. We will die first. Chiyoto knew her Runa spoke the truth – the contentious dragoness would kill them both – and probably take a few thousand others with them – if it actually came down to that.
Just as Junko had practically killed Shizu with her imprisonment – although Chiyoto suspected Runa’s method would be much more short-term and even painful.
Runa growled a disgusted yet hearty agreement inside of her.
Funny how that did not phase Chiyoto in the least – in fact, it was quite comforting. Chiyoto supposed they both had their stubborn and defiant streaks – were probably one in the same.
You are my heart, my Treasure – you always will be.
Chiyoto whimpered inside with affection for her Runa – grateful for her dragoness’ presence, uncivilized as it was.
“We apologize, Mamere, but there is too much pain for us here,” Chiyoto choked up only slightly as she slipped easily back into her formal façade – trying hard to smile at least a bit for the passing matriarch as she took both of her Mamere’s much older hands in her own, “If we ever nee
d a reminder of how terrible things are, we promise to visit.”
No, they would never be the Empress that Junko and Shizu were.
Neither of them would permit it.
Mamere squeezed her Chiyoto’s hands in return and tried to smile in understanding as the two stared at each other – finally having reached a moment of peace between them. Junko nodded her head at her Chiyoto’s words – it was true, she could not make them live here, and, although she could not actually relate to the pain her Chiyoto now felt, she could certainly understand her not wanting to immerse herself in memories or even thoughts of what could never be.
To that much she could certainly relate.
Her pain here in Capital City had certainly never abated, and the smiles she used to find at least on occasion had ceased tens of cycles ago. Her Chiyoto was right – the pain her young female felt may never pass.
Suddenly, Shizu flooded Junko’s mind and heart with emotions from older Empresses and Emperors – long before Benoni and his evil – where heated passions and mated adoration and protection were the norm. Where a smitten male pursued his Empress-Heir with fervor and possessiveness – where the Ilişki joined not only two hearts and two minds but two lives, the strength of which went on to rule an expansive empire for hundreds of cycles.
And then a slow replay of the visions again of Rafal and Chiyoto together.
Perhaps, my beloved …
Mamere smiled internally as she reminded her Shizu that this – all of this – was now up to the new Empress.
To Chiyoto and Runa.
It was time to complete their time in this realm. Shizu stirred with true excitement and anticipation, the likes of which Junko had not felt in countless cycles.
And such translated to a small yet outward smile on the elder matriarch’s time-worn face.
“Haven then is probably the best place for you, my Chiyo,” the tenderness had returned to Junko’s voice, “And Runa can hunt whenever and whatever she likes.”
Chiyoto smiled ever so faintly in return as Runa glibly scoffed inside of her.
Well, almost whatever I like.
“Yes, Mamere,” Chiyoto nodded, not acknowledging Runa’s comment or her implication.
Junko squeezed Chiyoto’s hands again before letting go and turning toward the gnysues.
“Faithful ones?” her tone had become quite regal again, “It is time.”
Gnysue Bweldon stepped toward the two females – his head bowed low in reverence – as he offered an ornate pillow with an exquisitely adorned dagger positioned atop it. The other two gnysues brought the two chalices – each carrying one with the greatest of care – to rest on the small, plain altar off the side of the platform on which they stood.
Junko leaned over and kissed her Chiyoto so tenderly on the cheek that Chiyoto felt herself melt at the action – tears welling up as she closed her eyes so tightly with the feelings of warmth and compassion that suddenly surrounded her.
“You have been a beautiful revelation to us from the moment of your conception, my Chiyo,” Junko raised both hands and caressingly ran them repeatedly through her mane from her face and down to her shoulders, “The Makers could not have come any closer to perfection,” she sniffed and stepped back as she reached so femininely for the dagger, “Even with your proud, uncivilized Runa.”
Chiyoto was not sure what to say as Mamere stepped toward the altar – did Mamere not think of her joining with her chosen male rather than her actual conception of Chiyoto? If Rafal and she had ever … well, she would definitely remember that – whether that resulted in a progeny or not! Remarkably, Runa did not even comment on her thoughts or even on Mamere’s statement that had prompted them.
Huh.
Then the ever-mumbling Bweldon drew her thoughts away from that line as the elder gnysue simply grinned up at her almost like a bashful youth.
“The Prime Magistrate came looking for you in the kyoukai, Denka. Said he could scent you,” Bweldon giggled anxiously as he looked down and away.
Chiyoto caught her breath as Runa growled long and low in warning inside of her – the young female’s eyes wide in questioning surprise as she stared at Bweldon.
“Even though we know it could not really be true,” Bweldon chuckled again nervously and fiddled haphazardly with the pillow fringes as she stood frozen at his words, “My Zeki was convinced it would cheer you to know that the Magistrate claimed such,” the old gnysue shuffled his feet in uncertainty under her confounded scrutiny, “S-S-Since you just seem so upset right now, M-Mistress,” he paused again, unsure of himself with her lack of her usually gracious response as before on the shuttle, “But we do apologi …”
Bweldon trailed off and re-bowed his head as Junko stepped back up beside Chiyoto and handed the dagger back to the old gnysue. Junko stared hard and almost derisively at him for his speaking – Chiyoto could almost feel the weight of those maternal eyes because they had silently disciplined her for her ‘out-of-character’ actions so many times in the past. Bweldon nodded in acceptance of her quiet reprimand as he slowly wiped the seemingly already-cleaned blade gently on the pillow top – one side and then the other with a trembling hand. He then offered the pillow to Chiyoto – the blush still in his cheeks indicating his embarrassment of having broken the silence of the ceremony. But before she took the dagger from the pillow, Chiyoto reached out and reassured the old gnysue and his thaintarr with a gentle stroke of her palm along his forehead and down the side of his head – and she made sure Bweldon saw her smile before she turned to walk toward the chalices on the altar.
Avoiding the reprimanding or, at the very least, disapproving glare that she knew would be on Mamere’s face because of her actions that granted approval to what her elder had just so clearly frowned upon, Chiyoto turned to step to the altar.
We will heal you, my Treasure, so that you may complete the ceremony.
Chiyoto sighed, knowing that Runa’s healing was necessary for her blood to flow to now fill the chalice but not liking it. She pursed her lips in annoyance as she reached the small altar on which the chalices were arranged. Yes, she knew she had to be healed – as tears once again threatened the corners of her eyes – but she wished for a scar to remain.
Runa growled at her with annoyance at the request, but realized this was not the time to argue.
As you said, my Treasure, we will discuss this later, a slight pause as Chiyoto felt Runa’s warmth rush heatedly through her and concentrate at her shoulder where Jaylis’ blade had sliced through her, But you may continue for now.
Chiyoto felt her Runa soothe her from inside – knowing her dragoness only wanted what was best for her. Runa had always been so very protective of her.
But, now, she and Runa were about to become Empress – Runa continued to soothe her in her own unique way as she sent her another of her raised dragon-brow images.
Just another adventure together, my Treasure.
Chiyoto smiled as she sliced her palm to fill the other chalice with her nearly-glowing emerald blood. After placing the dagger on the pillow Bweldon carried beside her, she gently grasped the two goblets and turned back to Mamere.
It was time to say their final farewell.
And finally get back home.
Instead of instantly responding to her Runa, Chiyoto’s mind heard Bweldon again –
“Said he could scent you.”
– and then back to Rafal this morning.
“We are almost home, shioliah.”
Chiyoto handed Mamere the one with her own green blood as she stared speculatively into the goblet containing Mamere’s clear blood. Why, after what just transpired earlier, was she suddenly wondering about … about where … about where home actually was …?
But Chiyoto’s reflections were quickly snapped back to the present as Runa growled long and low and quite threateningly inside of her �
�� the ominous rumble her dragoness’ only comment on her Treasure’s thoughts.
For now.
Now sated and exhausted from his second session with the whimpering Ferenti, the great bear fell into slumber, allowing Khitam into the present. His chambers reeked of the advisor’s emissions and the bed vibrated just slightly with Fermenti’s sobs.
Khitam smiled evilly as he raised his prematurely-aged body over the shackled, blubbering male – the advisor’s arms and leg spread wide in the restraints – the shiny, metallic collar glittering in the light with his taxed breathing. Ferenti’s eyes were wide with an almost permanent expression of panic as Khitam rose over him – the Khedive searching hand finding his advisor’s well displayed package – even though his eyes never lost contact with the sniveling shenatalingra below him.
“I hope you have saved some for your Khedive, my pet,” Khitam’s words brought a complete halt to Ferenti’s breathing, “As I intend to have your rod’s pleasure next just like we used to do.”
The trembling male resumed his breathing with a gasp, “But … but … my Lord,” his head almost undetectably tried to shake from side to side – his eye brows raising to increase the look of panic on his visage, “So soon … I do not know …”
The shentalingra seemed to wretch inside of him as Ferenti’s chest heaved unnaturally with his beast’s strange actions.
Khitam only increased his smile as he reached between the mattresses and stood – his searching hands finding and holding up for display the long, spiked sim-metal vibrator with placement leg straps.
“Oh, I believe this will take care of the timing issue, do you not agree?” Khitam reached for the sise of the oil – the contents of which Ferenti had been obediently wearing upon his arrival this evening.
But apparently the Khedive’s proposal was too much about which even the sniveling Ferenti could remain calm – he began to strain at the cuffs that bound both his hands and feet – the actions simply moving his torso such that it did nothing but encourage the mad ruler’s thoughts of further abuse.