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An Intimate Proposal

The fickle spring winds whipped by Melor as he flew. His wingtips trailed through the clouds over Avalon and traced an invisible path as the young dragon glided from thermal to thermal, his blue scales making him nearly invisible against the sky above were it not for the black stripes running down either of his flanks. He was looking for someone, someone who had agreed to meet him here, as she did every month. He scanned the sky in all directions, searching for any sign of her and even glanced groundward once he cleared the edge of the cloud he'd been skimming, maroon eyes darting back and forth. Where is she? he wondered It's not like her to miss out on this.

His survey of the ground was fruitless, just the same tree-covered hills and valleys he'd flown over dozens of times with Tyrene, the glittering ribbon of the Maiden's Tear river trailing through the landscape and off to the east. These lands formed the border between Blazemaw lands and the holdings of Camelot proper and they held few secrets to the Melor. He'd grown up hunting and flying these lands with his parents and clanmates and, later, Tyrene. If he had to estimate, he'd spent more time slinking through the undergrowth out here and soaring over the forests than he had spent within his ancestral halls in his youth. Even still, the wilds were more appealing than the inside of any chamber of the clan's holdfasts. The sky, however, was what held his attention now as he continued lazily patrolling the same patch of the heavens.

Minutes passed and still there was no sign of her. Soon, it seemed an hour had gone by with nary a glimpse of his friend. He'd taken wing nearly two hours ago just to reach this place and now felt the creeping ache of muscle fatigue setting in all along his wings, the joints protesting at overuse and begging for reprieve. No use waiting around up here and tiring myself out any more, he thought to himself, sighing, If she's going to be this late, she can come find me on the ground. With a sigh, Melor angled downward, pulled his wings in close, and dove. He relished the sense of weightlessness and speed for a few moments before snapping his wings open and levelling out just above the trees.

A small flock of birds took wing at his passing, but he otherwise went unremarked by the forest below. Melor was still a bit small by dragon standards, having only come of age the previous summer. Still, the blue dragon stood a bit taller than a draft horse at the shoulder and radiated a commanding presence as he set down as gracefully. A shame I'm alone out here, he thought. As a member of one of the ruling clans, image was everything, especially now that he was expected to carry out duties for the clan. That was what he had liked least about coming of age and taking his oath. The responsibility. In past years, he and Tyrene would have had all the time in the world to wander the forests and explore, talk, wrestle, and hunt. Now he was lucky he still had the time each month to fly out and meet her. Not that she had the same restrictions, being a wildborn. He glanced around the clearing, at the lands Tyrene called home, and envied her. All this open wilderness with no politics, ceremonies, treaties or taxes. Just pure, unrestricted freedom. He huffed and shook the envy from his mind, instead going back to surveying the clearing.

A deer bolted as their eyes met and the animal vanished into the underbrush, the crashing echoes of its passing grew fainter even as another grew closer. The sound of footfalls, large ones, getting louder. With a muffled curse Melor realized he was upwind of whatever was coming toward him and spun about, claws tearing into the loamy soil.

A cluster of large boulders sat strewn across the south part of the clearing, most of them being directly in front of Melor, blocking his view of anything beyond. Worse still, the footfalls had stopped. He hissed out a challenge fit to make most any animal back down. There was little in the woods that could threaten a dragon, even one Melor's size. Still, it better to try and scare the threat off. He got no response.

"Come on then, show yourself!" he bellowed, the challenge. Still no answer. Frustrated by the silence, he began to circle the boulders. The rocks stood a good deal taller than him and were speckled with green and brown lichens, breaking up their outline against the undergrowth. It would be easy for anything to hide among them. Indeed, Melor found nothing as he circled the rocks. There had, however, definitely been something there. The grass and saplings around the boulders he been trampled in places, and the creature that had done it was by no means tiny.

"I know you're here," Melor growled again to drive the point home to anything unable to understand his words, "You're on Blazemaw lands and I won't tolerate trespassers!"

"Oh, you won't?" quipped a voice from just behind him. He was only able to turn halfway around before something struck in him the side and bowled him over. He and his assailant tumbled into the grass. He recognized that voice. Taunting, dark, and distinctly feminine. Tyrene was the first to roll to her feet and placed a forepaw on Melor's upturned stomach. "Gotcha," the dragoness mocked as she pinned him, gold eyes shining with triumph.

"Thousand hells, Tyrene, we're not hatchlings anymore," Melor laughed, "You can't just sneak up on me like that. I could have hurt you if I fought back."

"But I did, and you didn't," she smiled and removed her paw from his chest, instead leaping atop a nearby rock. Her mottled grey and brown scales made her seem more an extension of the thing than a separate, living being where she perched.

"How long have you been lurking down here?" Meor inquired as he rolled over and regained his feet.

"Oh, I've been here since yesterday," she said, "I decided to rough it for a few days. It's better than sharing a lair with that sister of mine."

"You didn't mention your sister was visiting when we last talked."

"Well, neither had she at the time. It would seem that the Ironclaws don't take kindly to new wildborn showing up on their lands and they ran her off," Tyrene slumped down atop the rock, her wings drooped down over the sides. "She's been living with me for the last two weeks and I'm beginning to think there was more to her being run off of Ironclaw lands than them being territorial."

"Oh?" Melor asked, sidling up to the boulder she was sprawled on and sitting back on his haunches to listen.

"She doesn't shut up about how she can't find a decent patch of land for herself. No lair, nor territory, no hoard, no mate," she laid her head flat against the boulder and clamped her forepaws over her ear frills, "I couldn't take it a minute longer."

Melor laughed. "I can hardly blame her for complaining about all that."

"What are you talking about?" Tyrene grumbled, perking up and lifting her head to glance at Melor, "Don't tell me you're taking her side here!"

"Well, I may be a dragon of one of the great clans," he delivered this first line with drizzling sarcasm, "But I also know your sister and I have siblings of my own. She sees her little sister with all the things she hasn't got; a lair, land to hunt on, a hoard, I would imagine, and a friend with a little bit of influence," he grinned at his last point. "She has an awful lot to be envious of."

"You forgot something," Tyrene huffed.

"Did I?"

"Yes," she slid down from the rock to the ground and ficked him in the nose with the spade point of her tail, "No mate. I don't have quite everything she wants."

Melor was taken aback for a moment. "I thought for certain you'd have found someone by now."

"Well, there are hardly any suitors around. No clan dragons want to pair with a wildborn and the King's men have driven nearly all the wildborn from their lands for hundreds of leagues in either direction."

"I'm sorry to hear of your troubles there," Melor apologized, "I wasn't aware. Someone's sure to come along eventually though."

Melor thought he saw Tyrene roll her eyes, but before he could ask her why, she changed the subject. "I didn't come out here to talk about my sister and what I've got that she doesn't. I came here to see my friend and show him something amazing I found right in the middle of this little patch of forest." She was grinning now, a look he knew meant she'd hatched some sort of scheme.

"What could you have possibly found out here that we haven't seen a hundred times before?" he asked with a yawn, spreading his wings a bit to catch some of the afternoon sun as it peaked through the clouds, "And why did you have to wait down here an ambush me to tell me about it? I was circling for damned near an hour. Waiting for you."

"I knew you'd land eventually, and then I could ambush the big, proud, powerful clan dragon and remind him he's just as mortal as the rest of us," she circled around Melor as she taunted him, bumping against him and nearly knocking the larger dragon off his feet again. Less than amused, he spat back,

"Is this about me being late last time?"

"Maybe it is," she quipped, "Or maybe it's just to let you know that we don't all need authority and titles behind us to make others wait."

"Tyrene, you know I can't just drop clan business on a whim," Melor snorted, half irked and half amused, "I've got other's I have to answer to now. Plus, don't forget who got Cedrin off you your tail over your right to lair on our lands." She simply sniffed at that. "I didn't see you complaining about my connections and authority then."

"That was different."

"Sure it was," Melor chided, "And the fact that it concerned you at the time had nothing to do with that opinion?" She narrowed her golden eyes at him, mock bitterness writ upon her face. "Besides, I don't need to even bring up my authority to get you to to wait for me."

"Oh, and why's that?"

Almost before she could finish the question, he had pounced on her and took her to the ground. They tumbled in a tangle of wings, limbs, and tails and tussled for a few moments. It was hardly a contest as he easily pinned her, belly up and one wing splayed beneath him. He leaned in close, smirking.

"Because I'm bigger than you, and now you have to wait for me to let you move," he chuckled to himself and looked over his immobilized victim.

It was true. Tyrene was, from nose to tail tip, more than a meter shorter than Melor and almost a foot shorter at the shoulder, and he had her pinned. One foreclaw gripped around both of hers and held them fast against her chest. His other had one of her wings pinned to the ground, outstretched and a hindpaw pressed against her belly, keeping her from rolling. She could probably have thrown him off if she tried but she would have to actually hurt him and they both knew it. The grey and brown dragoness struggled beneath him for a moment, halfheartedly he felt, before sighing.

"Okay, you win," she conceded, "Now will you let me up? I said I had something to show you and I can hardly take you there while I'm stuck like this." Melor took a moment to consider, head tilting from side to side as he 'considered' it. Apparently, his captive didn't appreciate the humor of the delay as her tail began to lash back and forth between his hindpaws. "Please?" She dropped the mocking tone for a more serious one and her ear-frills flattened back in submission.

Melor accepted that he had played the charade out to its conclusion like they had hundreds of times since they were hatchlings. He released her foreclaws and lifted his own from her wing joint before stepping back, still standing over her.

"I haven't gone soft you know," he said as she rolled back onto all fours and crept out from beneath him, "Just because I have to attend to council matters doesn't make me any weaker. I just have a different set of-" He was caught off guard as he felt the tip of her tail trail against the inside of his leg just a little too close to his loins, lingering a little too long for an accidental brush, "-responsibilities." He forced himself to spit out the last of his sentence as she slunk from beneath him and turned about to face him as though nothing had happened.

Had she really just done that? Did she mean anything by it, or had it been an accident? It had to be. She had been his best friend for years, but surely she didn't fancy him. Not like that, anyhow. Besides, even if she did, she was wildborn and he was a son of one of the great clans. It wouldn't be right, and she knew it! She must have. Then again, she had mentioned she had not found a mate...

"Are you alright in there?" Melor was startled from his swirl of thoughts by a voice practically in his ear. Tyrene was right beside him. He realized he'd been simply staring off ahead of him, not really even seeing the world before him. She spoke again, "You okay there, big, powerful fighter? Her voice dripped with mockery now. "Something got you spooked?"

"Oh, no," she stammered, shaking his head to regain his wits, "Just... thinking."

"Well, you'll have plenty of time to think on our walk," she said and began trotting off into the woods along one of the many game trails that led off from the clearing.

"Walk?" Melor asked, incredulous. "Tyrene, I've been flying for hours and now you expect me to go crawling, Ancestors know how far, through the woods?"

"Yes," she answered flatly, "Unless, of course, those new responsibilities of yours have made you go soft..." She fixed him with a challenging stare, one brow ridge raised. There was a pregnant pause in the air for a moment. He met her gaze, unsure how to answer. If he agreed to the hike she proposed, he'd certainly be in no condition to fly home tomorrow. If he turned her down, it would be an insult to his pride. He was trapped.

Fortunately, she was less willing to wait for an answer than he was to give one. A moment later and she had bolted off into the forest, bounding over fallen trees and smaller boulders, almost completely ignoring the trail she had first followed. Cursing under his breath Melor set off after her, trying as best he could to keep pace. Even if he lost her, it wasn't hard to track a dragon who had sprinted through the undergrowth. Dozens of saplings and beds of ferns lay devastated in her wake. Fortunately, she slowed down and Melor caught up after only a minute of pursuit.

"So," he asked as he caught his breath, now that they moved at a more leisurely pace, "Why couldn't we just fly there?"

"We could, but I'm not a fan of having nowhere to land."

"Nowhere to land?" Melor asked.

"That's right, nowhere to land," Tyrene said as the pair hopped over a small ravine. "The canopy has grown over the whole thing. You can hardly even see it from the air."

"And what exactly is it? You still haven't told me where we're going."

"That's the fun of it. I know where we're going, and you don't," she looked back over her shoulder, tongue stuck out petulantly as she ruffled her wings, and bounded further down the trail with a new spring in her step. Melor couldn't help but notice she carried her tail just a bit higher than normal as she bounded ahead, offering a very tempting hint at a what lay beneath. They may have been friends, but he was still male and he had certain... urges. Besides, she was hardly unpleasant to look at. Fit, well muscled, and with well kept scales, she'd be a catch for any drake. Maybe for me, he allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy for a moment. She doesn't have a mate and I'm not promised to anyone yet. She may be wildborn, but we're in the middle of nowhere, all alone. I could ask her. Nobody would know. Nobody would have to know... She is rather striking, isn't she?

He'd had these fantasies before. Nearly every time they'd met since he came of age he had thought about it. Questioned their friendship and how far he might be willing to push it. He imagined her rolling over for him, exposing her belly and spreading her legs. She'd let him climb atop her, to take her as he looked deep into those golden eyes of hers. Oh, if only he could! Truth be told, he fancied her over nearly all his peers either at court or in the clan. But she wasn't one of them. She was wildborn, unsworn and not of the nobility. Yes he could lay with her, but if they begot an egg, he would be disgraced. Allowing the blood of the clans to mingle outside of the nobility and Oathsworn could get you cast out, and he knew she would never swear herself to the clan or the King. Not to mention the fear he felt at the fate of their friendship if she were to reject him or even balk at the notion. So, just as every time before, he reached the same conclusion. He could not, for both their sakes, brooch the topic. No matter how tempted he was by the sight before him.

His body did little to heed his conclusions, however, and his excitement began to make itself known between his hind legs. If he weren't covered in scales, Melor would have blushed a beet red. He tried to think of something, anything to distract himself, but couldn't quite shake the arousing images from his mind. So, acutely aware of everything he hopped onto or stepped over, he bounded forward after Tyrene, who had gained a good distance at this point. She didn't seem to notice how far back he had fallen, apparently lost in her own little world, humming some tune to herself. Melor was thankful she didn't look back until his 'excitement' had died down after several more minutes of walking.

"Getting tired already?" Tyrene shouted from her perch at the top of a ridge he'd been been laboriously scaling in her wake.

"Hardly," Melor responded, "Just admiring the view."

"View?" She asked, cocking her head to the side.

"The scenery, rather," he hastily corrected himself.

"Do they really keep you cooped up in that bloody council chamber so long that you find a simple grove of trees worth admiring?"

"It would seem it at times," Melor replied replied, trying to hide his exhaustion from the flight and the walk that now pressed into its first hour, mostly uphill. Maybe all that time with the councillors had made him soft.

"A pity," she began scanning the treetops, watching the squirrels and birds dart back and forth among the higher branches, chased by the occasional imp or sprite, "It's been ages since we've gone wandering like this. You used to like it so much."

"I still do," he huffed, finally approaching the top of the ridge, "It's just a matter of not having exhausted myself flying beforehand. Do you know how hard I had to fly to get here in time? Then you made me wait."

"You're still hung up on that, aren't you?" she asked, coyly.

"Yes, I am," he scrambled over a set of boulders, claws leaving jagged scrapes across their surfaces, "All you had to do was fly up and get me. You could have even called me down to you on the ground. I've heard that roar of yours."

"Well, if you must truly know, I figured it would help you appreciate this a bit more," she gestured with an outstretched wing at the other side of the rise. Melor grit his teeth and finished the climb, mounting the hill next to Tyrene. Rather than look at what she was gesturing to, he rounded on her.

"And what, exactly, do you think I could appreciate more when I've been run ragged by you and your schemes?"

She simply rolled her eyes, raised a foreclaw to the side of his head and turned his gaze downward. Slightly below them, tucked into a cleft where two hills met, were a series of pools and flat rocks into which cascaded the overflow from a spring further up one of the hills. Each was easily large enough for them both to sink into completely, and there was what looked like a cave behind a small waterfall. The trees grew abnormally tall and thick here, their branches looming over the whole scene and casting it into permanent twilight. Tyrene was right about not being able to land here, the canopy was so thick that even a dragon twice their size would have trouble breaking through for a clean landing.

It was Melor's turn to bound ahead recklessly. He skittered and slipped down the slope until he was at the edge of one of the pools. Surprisingly, the stones underfoot were warm to the touch and the water bubbled slightly. Steam he hadn't noticed from above rose from the water's surface and clung low to the ground. He cautiously dipped a toe claw in. It was warm, almost unpleasantly so. But after the flight and walk he'd had, the relief to his sore muscles was welcome. He wasted no further time slipping in up to his neck and settling in to float, his muzzle resting just on the edge of the stony lip where the water spilled into a lower pool.

"See? Who was right?" Tyrene chided from up the hill before following him down.

"You were, my dear friend, you were," Melor admitted, "I would eat my own words if I weren't so exhausted." A massive grin spread across his muzzle as she stepped into the pool beside him. She circled the pool a few times, gliding just beneath the surface before coming to a stop next to melor at the water's edge, resting shoulder to shoulder with him. She brought her head to rest mere inches from his own and let out a contented sigh.

"I told you it would be worth it," she she purred, obviously enjoying the warmth of the waters as much as Melor.

"I never said I didn't believe you," he replied, cracking and eye open to glance her way. She rolled her head to the side and fixed him with both her golden eyes.

"You never said you did, either."

"What's gotten into you today?" Melor asked with a smile, "You seem abnormally... spirited."

"Whatever do you mean by that?" she sounded legitimately curious, but her eyes betrayed her.

"The ambush, this chipper attitude of yours, that spring in your step, and your inability to sit still since I found you today. There's something going on in that mind of yours, and I know it."

"Oh, I'm just happy. Even with my sister hogging my territory, I can't find anything else worth complaining about. Life is rather delightful, actually."

"Nothing to complain about?" Melor asked, "Nothing at all?"

She thought for a moment. "Nothing at all."

"What about that wyvern that was poaching the game around your lair?" he asked, bumping against her shoulder, "Have you dealt with him yet?"

"As a matter of fact I have," she frowned at the mention of the pest.

"Oh?"

"I ran him off last week. It seems a little fire was all it took to scare the cretin away. Haven't seen a scale on his sorry backside since."

"So you're admiring wyverns' backsides now, are you?" Melor smirked, "I didn't think you'd get that desperate without a mate." Melor suddenly found himself drenched as Tyrene splashed him with her tail. She snarled at him playfully before splashing him once more.

"You know what I meant," she settled back against him again with a sigh. This time leaning into him. She felt small and vulnerable to Melor as she leaned against him. "It is lonely though, not having anyone to share a nest with. Sleeping out here alone and waking up without anyone to help you welcome the new day. It's started to weigh on me."

"I know it must be hard," Melor said, "having to live where other wildborn aren't exactly a common sight-"

"That's because your clan tried to run them all off," Tyrene cut in.

"We did. But we can't exactly be sharing our lands with every wanderer looking for easy pickings. We still have to feed our own, and what if they take to harassing our subjects? It's a miracle I convinced them to allow you to live here."

"As you so often say," the words came without even half a beat of hesitation.

"I'm sure that you can find someone. I could see about encouraging a few unsworn males or wildborn to visit the area. I'm sure there's something that needs doing and they would be chomping at the bit to get on the clan's good side."

As much as it pained him to suggest offering her up to other males, it was the only option for her. He couldn't have her, and he didn't even know if she would want him. But he wanted to see her happy, even if it did deprive him. Still, something primal roiled at the idea of other males coming onto his territory. Taking his female. Wait... no. Not his female. She was his friend. A friend who couldn't be anything more.

"I don't want some stranger," she protested, "and I don't want you of all dragons to play matchmaker for me! I can handle things myself, thank you. It's just a bit... discouraging at times. I do have my eye on someone, though." She ruffled her wings idly, sending ripples across the surface of the water.

"So you do fancy someone?" Melor said, an odd mixture of relief and disappointment washing over him, "Is it anyone I know?"

"Oh, I'm sure you've met them before," she grinned, suddenly less melancholy.

"Are you going to tell me who it is?"

"I might," she said, "but how about I ask a question now?"

"Fine," Melor shrugged, "Go ahead."

"What about you?" she inquired, "All this talk has been about my lack of a mate. Do you fancy anyone? Any of the nice dragonesses of the clan catch your eye? Any mistresses of yours at court?"

"Oh, hardly any there," Melor groaned, "They barely let me out of the council chambers while I'm there so I couldn't have any sordid rendezvous even if I wanted. As for the sisters of the clan... there are a few who are rather appealing and I've laid with a few before, but I could hardly say that I see a future with any of them."

"Why should that matter? Enjoying each other should be reason enough."

Her tail was slowly sweeping back and forth in the water, occasionally tangling with his. He made a few halfhearted attempts to interlock the two and failed.

"If that were reason enough then why bother taking a mate at all? Why not simply lay with whoever you chose, loyalty and feelings be damned?"

"Why not, indeed?"

"Are you suggesting I chase the tail of every dragoness in the clan?"

"I'm not suggesting you don't, and I don't know if you do. All I have to go on is your word."

"And what's my word worth to you?"

"Quite a lot, actually," she said, meeting his eyes in the gloom. A pair of golden orbs locking onto his own crimson gaze. He had to admit, she was quite stunning in the low light. Her scales blending with the rocks and the forest, leaving only her eyes clearly visible in the encroaching gloom. "More than most, truthfully." She paused for a moment, biting her lip. Melor didn't know where to steer the conversation so he let her think. Eventually, she sighed and spoke again. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything Tyrene," Melor responded, "You know that."

"No, i-it's not like that," she fumbled for her words again, "I need to know that you'll give me a good answer; Not a half truth, or meaningless words to make me feel better. I want a real, honest answer."

"Didn't you just say how much my word meant to you?" Melor draped a wing over her back and leaned his head in closer, "You know you can trust me."

"Yes," she admitted, "I just needed to hear it again." She breathed deeply and closed her eyes, steeling herself for whatever she was about to ask. Eyes still closed, she finally spoke, "Why not me?"

"What?" Melor knew what she meant, but couldn't quite believe it. He had to be sure.

"Why not me, Melor?" She repeated insistently, "You aren't sworn to anyone, and I've seen the way you look at me when you think I'm not paying attention. Don't think I didn't notice that little episode of yours on the way here," Melor's head frills flattened and he looked away. Tyrene giggled at his reaction. She smiled mischievously.

"To be fair, you did put on a bit of a show," he mumbled.

"I did, didn't I?" Her tail curled around his at the bottom of the pool, "Melor, I don't want to wait for another wildborn to happen upon me. He might not even make a good mate. Hells, I might even hate him."

"You might not," Melor offered meekly. Inside his instincts screamed at him to take her as his, then and there, but he knew he couldn't.

"Melor, we've known each other since we were hatchlings. I care for you, and you for me. You've already done so much for me, more than any wildborn could or would, and I love you for it," her tail uncoiled from his and instead curled back to caress between his legs, "Why not me?"

"Tyrene, you know I can't," he didn't pull away at her caress, "If I were to take a wildborn to mate, the triarchs would pull me from the councillor's retinue and have my hide for it."

"They don't have to know," she murmured as her tail tip found the slit between his legs that hid his malehood, "they can't see us out here. They'll never find out."

"Tyrene, you don't understand how they think. For an Oathsworn to take any but another Oathsworn as a mate is not only an insult to the clan, but to all those they did not choose." Under her tail's attention the first hint of his arousal poked free of its hiding place. The sudden contact of warm water on sensitive flesh sent a shiver up his back.

"Then don't choose," she said, "It would be just like before, just with another bond. No need to call us mates. No need to tell the world about us."

"T-that's, n-not how it worksssss," it was his turn to fumble for words as her tail wrapped around his half exposed length and squeezed lightly. "If- if I have to take another, and I will one day, I won't be able to stay with you."

"That doesn't matter," she brought her muzzle next to his ear as whispered, "we're here now. We can have each other now. The future be damned, Melor, I've wanted this for so long... and I don't see you fighting it." He'd grown hard under her tail's attention which had only grown more vigorous as she spoke and Melor began to feel a tension build in his muscles despite the warmth of the water. He growled, low in his chest and shut his eyes for a moment.

She had said it. She had said she wanted him and he knew he could easily have her right there and fulfill the desires which had haunted him for years. All he had to do was give in. But if he did, if ever the Triarchs found out he'd bred a wildborn, he'd never be able to show his face in polite company again. It would disgrace the clan and all those who had sponsored his position alongside the councillor. He couldn't risk it. But she had the same feelings for him too, and she'd had them for a long time if the attention she was giving his member was anything to go by. Oh, gods did it feel good. Still, Melor pushed off from the edge of the pool and drifted into the deeper waters at the center, Tyrene's tail-tip giving one last forlorn tug as he pulled away. He immediately missed her touch and his heart was left fluttering in his chest as he finally spoke.

"I want it too, the gods know I do, but I just can't," Melor sighed, "for both our sakes."

"What do you mean both our sakes?" she drifted after him, mischief still in her eyes.

"It won't just be my reputation and future at risk. If they find you, they'll run you off of clan lands and take everything you have."

"Still sounds like you're the one at risk," as she drifted by, Tyrene rolled over exposing her belly and some other, more enticing bits of herself, to Melor's wandering gaze. Her muscled legs were splayed out to the side and her slit gaped slightly, showing the pink, needy flesh within. He quickly looked away and back to her face.

"You don't care about being run off?"

"Oh, it would be inconvenient," Tyrene said, "but I've found a lair before and I can find one again. Besides, it would be the perfect opportunity for us to run off together. You'd have nothing to lose then and we'd have the whole of Avalon ahead of us. Think about it Melor! No more having to bow to a human king and follow that councillor of yours like some pet back and forth to and from Camelot. No more being forced to tolerate the presence of all those vermin the council demands have say. We'd would have nothing but freedom."

"I can't just abandon everything like that."

"Why not?" she drifted by and looked back at him, her face framed by spread legs from his perspective.

"I've worked my whole life to get this position..." Melor's eyes couldn't help but wander again, down her belly and between her legs to her brashly offered vent and the puckered ring of her tailhole. Tyrene lashed her tail back and forth a few times, noticing where his eyes were focused. For a moment, Melor leaned in a bit, wanting nothing more than to take the offered flesh before him. To please her the way he had longed to for years and she obviously craved. With great effort he turned away and fled to the edge of the pool. "I can't, Tyrene. I can't risk throwing it all away."

He hauled himself from the water and onto the moss-carpeted stones surrounding the pools. He didn't even bother to shake himself dry. Behind him, he heard Tyrene snort in frustration and start paddling toward him. He turned to see her at the edge of the pool, looking up at him, her eyes drifting down beneath him for a second to the tapered member still hanging between his legs.

"Do you always play this hard to get?" she cocked her head and looked up at Melor. "Normally, it's the dragoness doing the teasing, not the other way around."

"Tyrene..." he began to protest but she cut him off.

"Melor, we both want this. We've known each other practically since we hatched and we're all alone. Who better to share this with and where better to do it?" Looking down at her, all Melor saw were two golden orbs gazing back from the water's surface. In the low light, her marbled brown and grey scales blended perfectly with the surrounding rocks. He, on the other hand, stood out in the aquamarine blue of his own, a further reminder that this was her world, where she belonged. Her domain, her rules. He couldn't stifle a small laugh. She had him trapped by his own desire and her dogged insistence.

"I don't suppose I'm getting out of here until you get your way?" Melor asked.

She smirked and brought her foreclaws up onto the rocks around the pool to haul herself out of the water.

"Not as hard to get as I thought," she teased, hauling herself out of the pool, allowing the water to cascade off her in little rivulets.

"Nobody can ever know," he sighed after a short pause, admiring her form as she slid, sinuously up onto the rocks, "That's my only condition. We tell nobody. No one who might get word back to the triarchs or anyone in the clan. This is just you and me. Here. And that's how it stays. If I have to take a mate back in the clan, they can never know and we'll have to put an end to this."

"Nobody will know. Nobody but us," she sauntered over to him, accentuating each step with a sway of her hips and a swish of her serpentine tail.

"Tyrene-" he began but she cut him off with a light caress of his neck with hers and a quick nip to his ear frills.

"You need to learn to relax, Melor," she brought her head beneath his, resting his chin between her horns and planting a quick lick on the scales of his neck. "In fact, I think I can help with that..." Melor felt her snout tracing its way down his neck to his chest. He knew what was coming when she slunk down between his front legs but the sudden touch of her tongue on the sensitive tip of his malehood sent a shiver down his spine. All of Melor's muscles tensed and his claws scrabbled at the stone below. He'd been growing soft as they argued, but her sudden attentions had him rapidly stiffening once more.

Her hot breath on his loins was a welcome reprieve from the chill of the air after his time in the water. More welcome still when he felt her lips close on the tip of his cock and the suckling that accompanied it. Her tongue played over his tip while her tail found it's way up under his chin, teasing at his neck and face. A few more moments and Tyrene began to lightly bob her head, taking a few more inches into her slick, inviting maw.

Melor had long since given up any pretense of resisting and simply straddled the brown and grey dragoness as she slurped greedily at him. He nipped listlessly at her tail tip when it strayed close to his mouth. For his trouble, he received slight scrape of her teeth. Reasoning that she had a much more valuable appendage between her fangs, he relented and lost himself to the feeling of the warm cavern of her mouth and the wriggling serpent of her tongue. She had worked her way further along his shaft, taking nearly a third of it now.

Surrendering to the sensation, Melor let his instincts take control. He bucked his hips forward slightly, matching the rhythm of her bobbing head. Each thrust plunged his member further into her mouth and sent waves of pleasure coursing up his now fully erect length. Tyrene slurped lustfully around his cock, each time stopping just short of swallowing it, the entrance to her throat just barely tensing around his members tapered head each time. He was lost to the sensation as her greedy maw lavished attention on him like he'd never received from any dragoness he had lain with before. She had him entirely lost to the rhythmic motion and the pleasure. In that moment, he surrendered entirely to her ministrations and began to feel a tension rising in him, and a slow heat spread up from his loins and through his form.

As if sensing his approach to the edge, Tyrene picked up her own pace, spurring Melor to do the same with with his thrusts. She began to moan beneath him, occasionally slurping lewdly around his rigid cock as she caught a breath. He continued to rut her mouth for a few dozen more strokes before, without warning, she ceased to match his rapidly undulating hips and, instead, retreated back to the tip, and suckled gently. Suddenly left in a much colder world than the willing cavern that had so recently embraced his member, Melor faltered and stopped as well after a few, desperate and forlorn thrusts. He growled low and frustrated.

Tyrene completely released him from her mouth and spoke, "Don't hold back. I want to be yours, to feel you take me however you like. I want to feel everything you can give me."

Without any further ceremony, her maw engulfed his cock once more, but she didn't merely fill her mouth with what he had to offer. Melor let out a feral snarl as he felt her lips and tongue slide up further than they had before as she gulped down his entire length, plunging his tip down into the rippling embrace of her throat.

Ancestors above, she's eager, he thought. He rumbled deep in his chest, only one thought on his mind. He reared up slightly and brought one of his forepaws up to her haunches and the other to between her shoulders, just above where her wings met her back. As she began to slide back off of him, this paw slid the other way. Along her neck and back towards his belly, tracing along her scales until he reached her head where he finally tightened his grip. His length was still half-buried in her wildly salivating maw when he stopped her retreat. Taken by a feral lust, he growled three words.

"If you insist."

Melor thrust himself back into her, driving her down his length until her snout kissed the stretched slit from which his member protruded. Her her muscles spasmed around him as he began to drive into her gullet with a reckless abandon. He had only slightly come down from his near peak, and he was not going to let such an opportunity from so willing a dragoness pass by without taking advantage of it.

Tyrene gulped eagerly around him as Melor rutted her mouth. Gagging wasn't something a dragon did. If there was something in a dragon's throat, that meant it was to be swallowed, whether it be food or... something else. As her body attempted to pull him in deeper than it could ever hope to, squeezing his cock in all the right ways. Peristalsis practically milking him for a climax. It didn't take long for that building tension in Melor's loins to reach a crescendo. With a final thrust and a defiant roar, he held her down as his length began to spasm and pulse. His seed exploded into the depths of her gullet in stream after stream. Eventually able to shake his forepaw from her head, Tyrene pulled back off of him, sputtering a bit as her maw and face were painted with his essence. Still, she greedily swallowed what he left behind on her tongue, rumbling in approval as she savored the taste. Melor, for his part, panted and trembled for a moment, still straddling Tyrene's neck and shoulders.

"Ahem, Melor?" Tyrene said from beneath him. It took a moment for Melor's clouded mind to realise just what she was getting at. He hastily dropped back to the ground and allowed her to retreat from beneath him.

"Sorry about that," Melor began. "I may have been a bit rough, I forgot myself for a mom-" his apology was cut short by her muzzle meeting his, their lips coming together as her tongue tried to invade his maw, much like how his member had taken hers. He didn't resist her advances, welcoming her and returning the favor. Their tongues snaked around one another and explored each other's mouths in an erotic dance, twin serpents twining around one another and coming apart all at once. He tasted himself on her and recoiled for a moment, only to return, more determined to reciprocate the affection. The two dragons continued their oral exchange for a few moments more, Melor even extending his wings to wrap about them, further isolating the pair from the world. Wrapped in a blanket of darkness, he looked into the dreamy, golden eyes that fixed him with a sultry stare. Finally they broke apart.

"You don't have to apologize," Tyene said, gazing at him through half-lidded eyes. "Unless, that is, that's all you've got. You have kept me waiting for a quite a while now."

"Then I suppose it's time I returned the favor," Melor leaned in and resumed the kiss. All of his inhibitions and reluctance were gone. He no longer worried about the Triarchs and what they thought, or about the council. He didn't worry about his oath or about anything at all. All of his previous concerns were gone. Now, they were replaced by a single-minded desire to please this beautiful, young, dragoness before him. He broke the kiss a moment later and refolded his wings upon his back. With an intense stare he uttered two words, "Turn around," he growled.

Tyrene looked stunned at Melor's sudden assertiveness, then slowly spun around and stepped a few paces away, giving her lover a sultry glance before thrusting her rump skyward and lifting her tail to present herself, in full, to Melor's hungry gaze. She swayed ever so slightly before him, tempting the still very horny drake to lean in towards her, relishing in the sight of her now well lubricated slit, slightly parted as she spread her legs, just waiting to be claimed. Melore stood and stepped closer behind her, licking his chops.

"What happened to all that protesting of yours?" Tyrene taunted as he approached. "Where'd this new, eager male come from and what have you done with Melor? If I didn't know any better I'd thi-"

Her words were cut short by a gasp as Melor's tongue slurped lewdly over her sex. He returned for another pass. He placed a paw on one of her haunches then dug a his thumb claw into the fine scales just beside her slit, tugging her open a bit more. He grinned.

"Are you complaining, my dear?" he asked, giving her rump a playful squeeze and earning an indignant squeak for his efforts before he resumed his ministrations.

"N-no," she stuttered, finally losing some of her composure. Her tail drooped down and wrapped about his neck, tugging his muzzle closer. "But don't you dare stop."

Any reply he could have mustered was smothered by her lips around the tip of his snout. So, instead of replying, he finally slipped his tongue inside her, pushing into her depths and spreading her ever so slightly as the tip wriggled within her. Her scent was all consuming now, and Melor revelled in her fragrance. It drove him to push deeper, and push he did. The meaty snake of his tongue pressed forward, now bringing more and more of it's girth to bear stretching her walls as it invaded her most intimate of places. He worked his appendage back and forth within her, feeling her clamp down around him and shudder as her sensitive flesh reacted to the intruder. A few more plunges into her and he pulled back, leaving her empty, but only for a moment.

His forked tongue dipped lower and brushed against the terminus of her sex, lingering on a small nub, just barely hidden between her lips. Tyene froze, like a shot of ice water had just entered her veins. His attention shifted exclusively to this little button of flesh, and he nibbled lightly at it, each nip sending a fresh wave of shivers up Tyrene's spine. He then plunged once more into her depths, his thumb claw moving lower, no longer spreading her, but instead attending to her clit. Her breathing was reduced to small gasps and pants as Melor continued to ravenously pleasure her. She still shuddered from time to time, but as her muscles relaxed and she gave into the euphoria, Melor felt more of her weight settle on him. He didn't mind, and leaned in to happily support her weight and press himself in even deeper. Her scent and her fluids were ambrosia to his senses, and he needed more.

"Oh, oh, o-oh. Don't s-stop, Melor," she managed to utter between her ecstatic moans. He gladly obliged, and redoubled his efforts. Speeding up the undulations of his tongue and rubbing ever more aggressively at her clit, driving her to small convulsions. She continued to squirm under his oral assault, and he refused to abate as the minutes passed. His shaft, now erect once more, begged to be plunged into her, but he resisted. Mentally, he promised he'd wait his turn until he'd given her the same gift she'd seen fit to give him, or better. It didn't take long thereafter for him to deliver on that promise. Suddenly, Tyrene's form was wracked with spasms and her gasps and moans turned to whines, then a growl, then a full-throated roar as he finally came. The tight walls of her sex collapsed around his tongue as if trying to push him out and a flood of her own fluids began to leak out around the intruder. He obliged the gripping muscles of her passage and withdrew his tongue, glazed with her nectar, as tremors continued to rock her frame.

Tyrene stood, panting and trembling from his efforts as she worked to compose herself in the wake of Melor's ministrations. She opened her mouth to speak, but as she did Melor ran one final, lingering, lewd lick across the length of her sex and she stiffened at the unexpected final bit of attention.

"W-well, you certainly know how to give a lady a... good time," she smirked, finally able to compose a sentence, her breath still a tad short. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you'd had practice."

"Oh, I might have," he murmured, rising to his feet and sidling up beside her to nuzzle against her as she too rose.

"Oh, then why have I never smelled another female on you?" she licked at his snout, getting a hint of her own juices.

"It was a while ago, and besides," he nuzzled against her again before tilting his head so they were nose to nose, "Maybe you've never gotten close enough?" With that he again pressed his lips to hers briefly before they parted, allowing his tongue to slip in an writhe against her own. The kiss lasted but a few moments before the pair broke it.

"I hope you're not out of practice with what comes next," Tyrene gazed up at him through half-lidded eyes.

Melor gave no answer, but a smug grin did part his lips as he felt her tail between his legs again, stroking along his length and tickling lightly along his belly. He began to circle her, her tail releasing his member with one last, reluctant stroke. He was around behind Tyrene as that same tail lifted high, exposing her slick and needy lips again. He wasted no time in climbing atop her, rearing up and gripping her by the hips. He tugged her back toward him earning an indignant squeak from the dragoness he was about to claim. His dragonhood bobbed up and down as he worked to align himself, slapping against his underbelly and her haunches before finally settling in the crook at the base of her tail, directly aligned with the tight pucker of her tailhole. Playfully, he rocked forward against the tight ring of flesh.

"Don't think you're going in there," Tyrene growled up at him.

Her growl turned into a purr as Melor's shaft slid lower, gliding across her nether lips. He lingered for a moment, teasing her by sliding his tapered tip back up and down along her sex, his member twitching with every touch of the warm and pliable flesh he longed to feel the embrace of. But he held back. She'd been the one to set this all in motion. She had wanted this. He was going to make her beg for it.

Desperately, Tyrene thrust back at him trying to make him penetrate. Melor's low, rumbling laugh accompanied his response as his foreclaws hooked around her thighs and he hoisted her hind end off the ground, spreading her legs a bit wider in the process. She whined, desperate for him to follow through. His shaft slipped down between her legs, leaving a smear of his pre and her own juices along her belly. Tryene looked back over her shoulder at him, her eyes, shimmering gold in the low light of the grotto, begged for him to do it. Her eyes were not enough. He had to hear the words, however she chose to say it.

"Do you want it?" he leaned his head in next to her ear and murmured. "Say it."

She bit her lip, resisting for a moment. Melor brought his hips back, aligned himself and pressed forward just enough to part her lips, but not quite forcefully enough to slip inside. She groaned.

"Say it."

"Fuck me."

A sly smile graced his maw, and he pushed forward into her eager depths.

She was warm, and wet around his cock as he parted her walls, sliding quickly into her. Her flesh gripped and rippled around him, massaging his tapered shaft. By the Ancestors, she was snug. Before he'd even sunk all they way into her he felt her grow taut around him. He kept pushing until his slit pressed against her own and the two appeared joined beneath the tail. She felt fit to tear around him, but Melor heard no protest from the dragoness beneath him, only pleasured moans and the occasional gasp. She fit him well.

He gave her a moment to get used to having him buried in her depths. Tyrene squirmed a bit beneath him and continued to huff for a moments as he felt her walls loosen ever so slightly as her sex stretched to accommodate the new intruder, several orders bigger than the tongue which had previously delved within.

It was then that he started to slide back out, taking his time and feeling every inch of him slide out of her until just his tip remained buried in her folds. Then he thrust forward again, spearing Tyrene's flesh once more and earning another gasp from her. Melor rolled his hips again, setting a slow rhythm as he pumped in and out of his lover, her hindquarters still held aloft as her larger mate took her. Her back talons curled in the air waving at the end of dangling legs and flexing as he mated her. His pace was slow and his breathing measured at first, he wanted to savor this, and Tyrene didn't seem to mind, purring in satisfaction as she fell into the rhythm too.

Gently he rocked her body, gradually increasing his pace from a leisurely thrusting to a steady rutting. Both dragons breathed shallowly now, lost in the pleasure they shared. Melor grunted now with each rippling contraction of his lover's walls around his stiff and needy cock.

"So, where's that confident dragoness I saw earlier, hmm?" Melor growled in her ear. "You're just needly little whelp, aren't you? You want more? You want to be bred like the little slut you are?" Melor wasn't entirely sure where this talk was coming from, but Tyrene didn't seem to recoil at it. Quite the contrary, she rocked her hips ever more greedily into him.

"Y-yes, yes yes," Tyrene gasped from beneath him as he changed the angle of his thrusts slightly. "Melor, don't s-s-stop. P-lease."

He was more than happy to oblige. Melor shifted his weight forward and lifted his lover's hips a bit higher off the ground as he continued to pump in and out of her, his own breath coming in ragged gulps and gasps now. He redoubled his pace, the sloppy sounds of their lovemaking now reverberation off of the stone walls of the grotto and mingling with the constant burble of the flowing water.

Melor felt a familiar pressure building within his loins again as his thrusts grew more erratic and his mind began to cloud further with the feral lust of a rutting drake. Tyrene's forelegs slipped out from beneath her as ecstatic shudders wracked her frame. Her chest dropped to the ground, but she didn't seem to mind, if her unfocused eyes and lolling tongue were anything to go by. Melor drew ever closer to release as Tyrene's silken walls clamped eagerly around his intruding length.

Their bodies crashed together with ever increasing urgency, in a desperate need to bring their union to fruition. Melor sank into her until again and again he was flush with the scales of her rump. A growl rose low in his chest as Tyrene snarled with the rush of another orgasm. Her latest peak was enough to push Melor over the edge. A rush of euphoria flooded his mind and his length suddenly stiffened inside his lover. The familiar tension within him reached a peak and he hilted himself in her with a triumphant roar as he felt the first burst of his release build to a peak. Lost as he was in the fog of pure, primal lust, Melor nearly forgot his earlier worries. A sudden moment of clarity hit him like an avalanche.

EGGS!

He pulled free of her depths as a torrent of his seed erupted from the his supremely erect cock. Tyrene let out a startled snarl at the sudden emptiness as Melor splattered her hindquarters with his essence, leaving string after messy string along her belly as he weakly thrust his hips against her stomach. He almost regretting pulling out, his dragonhood now exposed to the cool air and devoid of the nice, warm, tight confines it had just been buried in. She look up at him, still sprawled on the stone, with a look of confusion written in the eyes of her otherwise blissful face. He waited for her to speak, but she seemed to still be lost for words, raggedly trying to catch her breath.

"I, I'm sorry Tyrene but I couldn't risk it. I couldn't take the chance of siring a clutch with you," he hung his head as he placed her hind legs back on the ground, releasing his iron grip on her haunches. She stumbled for at first, suddenly having her feet back under her and having Melor's weight settle on her back. She brought her head up to nuzzle against his as soon she she pushed herself back up from the ground and found her footing. He closed his eyes and returned the gesture, relishing the tender contact.

"It was a waste of good seed," she chided him, "and you've gone and made quite a mess but it's alright. You'll just have to make up for it some other way later. Now, I've got to go for a swim while I try to clean this off." She slinked out from beneath him, trailing the tip of her tail along his jaw and beckoning with a final seductive flick. "Care to join me?"

Melor didn't even have to think about his answer, a toothy grin splitting his draconic muzzle.

"Absolutely."