Take me
Relating to the tight corner he was in, he didn’t feel hopelessness. Inside of the depths of the king sized tent, there was one well spring, the hot one. It was vaporing delightfully with the healing properties and he had no intention to decline. He demanded it himself, while somewhere else, where is the gloaming of the sunless and misted woods, in there is a new dayspring, for therein were the Wolves of all kinds who were howling their sad song, throughout the forests of the dark, of the instrument that is verging with the Black Woods and along with is the surrounding Whispering Woods which are cloaking all the Blue and Misty mountain summits, there is the river Sirion whose deltas are coalescing even the Middle Earth with all sides of the worlds, even that of Beleriand, and the western seas, there is the blackwater bay, and the saltwater of firths. All is coming together with the dunes and the Jade Gates of the eastern realm of folks.
Inhabiting are eclipsed wells, that may forecast the envisioned future, what is ripe to take, and what is to be left for maturating. Let it mellow a little longer, the more you wait, the reward is worthier. And in the befogged realm of the sand, there is the untouched water that may make your heart sing.
Exalior was exalting his nudity, as well as the human’s naked beauty. Extending a hand kindly, coveting for his human to take it, lusting after him, albeit there is the coveted blood that is saved by the mothers that weren’t destined to be ones, recreating the bonds with their children from the nests of the Dragons where Bees of Kings and Queens are the deferred mutated subspecies, using the unrecognizable power of the Great and High Queens or even the Last Kings of humanity, the ones she might not be herself, for she has stricken the Pact of covenant with Gondolin and the Houses of the 7th Gates, even of the Golden Flower and even Silver Swan Fountains, for each is the delight and the heart of Princely Houses, of the inspirited Gondolin whose mirror was the capital of Valinor, Tirion upon Tuna, so he is poured in, with the infused memories and the knowledge of the hidden.
Distant or close ties, there are the silver realm of Doriath and the Ancient House of Feanor that fostered a bloodline of Dragons, who happened to be Wolves as well.
Just as there are the gentlewomen who are taken as Empresses, and there are those who operate from shadows, and he took the hand, listening to wording.
- Do you hear them, from distances? – Whom? – he uses the sign language, pleasing him.
- The Wolves, listen to how they howl.
- It is too far to hear it, it must be that your senses may see through the higher dark and as long as you may perceive it, after all, we are secondborn, afterborn. The Children of the Sun, that is warm and near, and you are favoring what awakened you from its slumbering in the Far East when you arrived at the bay of Cuivienen. Kindling of Stars, you are firstborn of the same. The First. It is a cold beauty, but the one that is suiting you most.
- Oh, you see how it all goes? Hm, so, what are you waiting? There is the candlelight, the romantic perfumes and even the gussets of pestles and the ripeness that is awaiting – the hand is still vacant, therefore, he took it, he was feeling how he is rippling within sand waters that are untarnished by the sandworms, it was the most pleasurable sensation, the sentience that was moderating even Gods that are the angelic thoughts of the primary All – father, Eru Iluvatar who had his lost and dark children, sowed so that they may yield the fruits, such as was the Witch Queen of Light, Galadriel, as was even his Goddess of Hatred, Ungoliant Lilith, punished beyond, even she was his, as the Queen of Nights, after Dagor Dagorath, there is continually more, more of everything, even whichever you become, they are the part of Conquerors and Mad Kings who dared to be so, go Behind the Walls of the Worlds.
From the Second Eves that protect the Original, to the one that is reincarnated as the recognized one, from Reimagined of Lilith, to the blood of Originals, they were sharing their paramount on the planet Syrax, escaping by Wombs, into the Star portals, all what is left of the Black Freehold of Old Valyria are glittering caves of the birthhomes, there is but one human Empress that is returned to them all, forgiven and unforgotten, while avatars of the same blood had taken their root somewhere else, where at they were to be in demand. Yes, these were old ideas. Slanting against the one who has swathed him as the baby, submerging into the aqua that knew no evil, but only virtuousness. – How do you feel now? My human? – it didn’t exasperate him so much, only flustered, he played along, showing the signs. – It isn’t bad, not bad at all. I am just so worn out.
- I know, you are dead-tired, and you were overtiring yourself, drawn and debilitated for so long, that you are not inveigled to bethink anything else – the voice was a soothing one, the fireflies were glowing everything where they flapped, and the petal-like fancies were redolent and aromatic, sweet scented ambiences that were interchanging the commuting lives, and permuting what wasn’t there, but it was now. – It is all for thee, my human, this is my magic – he nuzzled against him, folding him in his spry arms, lithe and sinewy, for he wasn’t muscled in robustness, it was slenderness. Spooning and canoodling, snugging down. - It is all for thou. You have no wonder of how far I have longed for you. How much I ached, to find anything in the alikeness as yours, the sameness, and now I have it.
- So, it was another assassin that brought me down? – the signs were shining brightly to the humanoid Dragon. – Oh, you love to dull the experience, to spoil, as I spoil you. Sharp – minded. – Witted – the signs were ever clear and understandable. – Yes, it was another assassin. But that is all what I can tell to you. – I am bound to you, didn’t you forget? I cannot be in your pretty head, but I can palpate. – Leave it at peace – ungagging him. For the determined time. Offering the mead.
It was the nectar-water. It is plainly simple that you cannot have the wine across the sand dunes, but you can have something that is akin to it. Equated or evened, and it was the sweetened one, without being brewed. It is true what they say about Elves. They do not know to make the wine, even the one that is homemade, some human folks are unskillful in ale, in firewater and in wine, but Elves were the extoling degrees of not having the cognizance of how. Yet, he was masterful in hiding secrets, sufficiently, not to extract anything from him, if he doesn’t want to!
- The chalice is also gilded in silver – he is speaking his normal voice, whilst it still lasts, he couldn’t be heedful enough or attentive, toying with it, expressing the easygoingness beside his Dragon Lord, as young as the summer’s spring. It could be told, how? There are the eyes, you can hide anything form anyone, apart from when you look someone in the eye, then, you are having it all answered, requited back. – Yes, people think that we are into gold, but it is all about silver, it doesn’t matter which kin or kindred, Elves are infatuated with the beauty of the stars, here, have something to eat.
- I was starving, how did it pass? – he eyed behind, to gawp at the silvered Dragon beauty, along with the empyreal voice and with the magenta irises. – You take all what I do offer, it was placating you, you have to be starved, so that all that is wicked in you, to be disavowed, each matter at its own time – firstly, he covers his soft lips with his pastel hand, brushing against, only for the web gag to be back, wadding him inside out, and with a tiny stretch, with the same paint brushing stroke, it was taken off, which means, it was signifying the steadfast presence of the Dragon that arouses, for there is always some particle that is left, here and there, so that he can perform his own magic, that enlivens and reanimates, it was little to say that Daario was impressed and overawed. The bowls were taking their turns, till he wasn’t full and well-rested, renewed and revived, livening all what is inwardly him, and what is externally making him ever handsome. And nice-looking. – I could penetrate you, straight away! – You are playing a kind man!
Both simpered, at long last, at this lengths, he got to feel all at once. He was washed and heedfully rubbed, rinsed up and down.
He sensed that the Beauty was out there, she was knowing everything, prying on each move or the maneuver he was making even when he didn’t do anything, it was all in the mind. It was the subconscious mindset, and the unconscious ego. She has to know all that was there to be known. She was the Dragon, and that signified that she isn’t letting anything to the kismet. Or any providence, it was the pre-styling feelings, the emotions that are long forsaken and the Dragons were still tilling it, as if there is no tomorrow to wait. He will meet her too, but for now, he was enjoying the wonderful quietness. While the water rippled and purled and gurgled, he felt how the trained hand of his Master, Liege Lord is upon his human lips anew, sealing his voice from within. Drawing him closer, into him, orgasm is unworldly.
*
- It does mollify you, isn’t it so!? – this time, he didn’t apply the sign language, he was feeling so languid and sedated. These were thoughts. – I do not mind, I may even act out far superiorly.
*
In Dragon Lands, there is forever on the summer’s spring, and the Winters are our dream, the one we can live out, we can bear, but never to fare well, without someone to warm our beddings!
*
You fell for me, the phantasm watery shadows were playing over shimmer and glimmer of the hot spring. It was impossibly beautiful to illustrate. There is to be drawn a Song of Ice and Fire!