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Quiet, cool, dark. It was a perfect place to strike for the much sought iron ore. Close enough to others, close enough to hear the pitter-patter of feet upon the long smoothed floor, yet far enough to not be swarmed by others of my tribe, I swung my pick down, and struck stone, and hoped to find another rich vein - the third time this year. The prior two had been rich with red iron, a common, but always useful metal for the mine I hoped to find silver, or even the useful crystal that the sorcerers always wanted for experiments.

I held my pick and struck at the cracked stone again - each blow causing the rock face to radiate outward with heavy cracks. Iron against stone, I struck again, and watched the stone chip off. The younger members of the tribe would clean up the dust and send it to the sling makers, who would shape the stone into sling stone. I looked down and checked for iron, but found none. I struck again, rotating my body into the tool, and worked away, steadily, and let time flow over me.

Hours in the mines, the middle and lower levels of the clan warrens, could pass away like sand through ones claws. The hours were long, and it was easy to forget and lose ones self into the work. Each strike makes the muscles tight, and fills the spirit with satisfaction. Each strike hits stone and looks for metal - and I smiled, finding another vein - copper. It was not as useful as iron, it was not as valuable as gems or the other, rarer metals - but oh it still had its uses. Strike, rise, fall, strike, I worked the ancient rhythm back and forth, and worked as my ancestors had. This was our fortune, our way, this was what it was to be a Kobold.

Though I was not a blessed miner or engineer, I still had my place in the mines. Even our weakest could polish stone, even our strongest and best would spend a day a week in the mine, to remember, to teach, to learn the secrets of stone. I was a scout - I hunted the lower darkness and mapped out secret places for future excursions if need be. I'd been a scout for two years, and I still took value at the moments of strike and fall. I struck again, and my good eye scanned the crack then worked the metal free of the stone.

Silicate broke, and I rose my pick up again, and paused - seeing a glitter in the dark. Frowning, I struck around it, and chipped free a single palm-sized ge. It was warm, and I broke off the earth and stone surrounding it. I gripped it, and then put it into a pouch that hung around my neck. I replaced it with a small chalk-powder vial and marked the copper vein so that the next to come along would see it. It was time to end my work, and the weariness inside of me told me I'd worked longer than I'd expected.

---

I like gems. Stones of all sorts were on the shelf of my personal collection. While I slept happily among the body of my own kind, I still liked to have my own collectables. I had gems, amethysts and chips of rubies and a few small diamonds - though this stone was larger than anything I'd seen before. I brushed dust off of the small collection, and smiled. I liked gems. They brought me pleasent feelings.

I closed my bag and settled it upon my clothes. I wore a tunic and a belt, and these I slipped onto my shelf. I walked past others in the warren, and brushed a hand on the shoulder of Kith, the kobold who had found me two years ago at the edge of the cavern. He smiled to me, and I turned to walk into the carved stream-off flow, where I could wash myself.

The water flowed from a small shelf up over head, which came as an off shoot of the main under-ground river that flowed a hundred meters away from this specialized drop. The bathing chamber was safe, as safe as anything in the darkness under the earth could be, and I let my guard down as I sat down on the shelf before the deeper water, and laid back in the warming water. I slid my hands down to my belly and up to my chest, and washed away the dust and dirt that had so caked my body. It felt good, turning grey scales to their warm blue, and I turned over to wash my face, my tail up in the air.

I washed and pulled loose scales free, I bathed and cleaned and let the dirt wash away into the eternal dark of the lower world. I washed my face and dug free dust off of the creases of my horn bases, and sighed when I lifted my head from the water. It was good to get clean. I sat back, knelt in the water, and let myself float away in the heat - heat provided by the deep geothermic activity of a lava flow some hundreds of meters distant. I was glad for the steaming heat, and drifted away.

Drifted away.

Drifted-

...A fight.

A punitive raid...

...magic flared.

...pain...

A hand in the dark...

...A club falling...

...falling...

...falling...

...shaking me.

-into the dark.

I shook awake when a hand closed on my shoulder, and sat up hurriedly, pulling free from the grip. Standing over me, with his wings hooding high over his head, was Song - one of the dragon-blooded Wrought. I looked up at him, and he smiled at me in turn.

"You were snoring, my friend." He spoke, his voice rich with his personal strength, and the gentle undertone of the magic that thronged through him. He stood nude with me, and walked into the water, to join me on the sitting ledge. I rubbed my face and shook my snout out a little. "Careful not to drown. I would hate to have to train up a new scout."

"Like you'd mind." I shook my head and rubbed at my face to get the paralysis out of it. "I'm sure you've plenty of hangers on to do that for you."

"Yes, I do." He mused, and began to wash his horns. His horns were long and exquisite, looking like a dragon would have. He crossed his legs. "But we have a working relationship, and it would pain me to lose someone with your skills. So, how is your head?"

"Still sore. I can't remember much, but the dizziness has finally gone away. " I'd taken a nasty hit to the back of the head, some season ago. My head had rung for ... I don't know how long it'd rung. But it had hurt something fierce. I turned my head to look up at Song. "I found myself a new gem. I'm not exactly sure what type, but it's beautiful. Maybe I should let the stones men take a look at it. Might be worth something in trade."

"Maybe." He said, and washed over his chest. I looked over his body, and lets a small smile cross my face. He lightly arched his brow, but said nothing, as I touched him on his chest. He was lean, thinner than I was, but taller by far. "Would you like to take a look at it?"

He nodded after a moment, and I got out of the water to get my pouch and the stone within.

"It looks like Kalrayanite." The Wrought spoke, and his wings fluttered once then resettled back into place. He washed the stone and used the tips of his claws to work the stone off of the gem. Letting out a whistle, he tossed it back to me, and I put it into it's pouch. "Very rare, it is a magical stone. You are keeping it?"

"I can find use for it. Trade it for maps on the low roads, or maybe find myself some old, unused equipment and work a trade." I said, and looped the holding chord around my neck, so that the pouch rest against my chest. Pulling up into the water, I sat next to him again, and hewed on a claw tip. "I don't mean to hold out, but scouting is dangerous."

"Well, the mine captains do hate to not get everything from the mines - but they'll survive. You tend to be good luck, so I would call it fair trade." Looking at the water, I re-washed over my thighs, then up to clean my loins as well. I wiggled myself into a new, comfortable position. "But, I suppose I could let you take a look at what I've found and created over the years, if that would affect a trade."

"Maybe. Maybe some sharpening and enchanting on my blades or crossbow. Maybe something to keep me safer in the low roads?" I looked up at him, my right hand gripping my half-turgid member, and I gave him that small smile that always seemed to lighten the severe looks of the elders. He nodded slowly and gravely, and lifted a hand to my chin.

"Enchanted items are very valuable. Something more than a pretty stone is required for that kind of work, you know." He spoke softly, and leaned in towards my face. I smiled up to him, and rose both of my hands to his chest. "Think we can work something out?"

"Of course we can." I said, suddenly breathless at the look on his handsome face.

No more words are said as we kissed, and my tongue twined around his own. I shared a kiss and our lips warmed together for a long, long moment. His breath was musky and my tongue dances against his own, my silver stud brushing over his own long, pink organ. We shared a kiss in the water, and I slid up against his front, breathing deep from his breath. His wings wrapped me, his hands fell to my flanks, squeezing. My tail, short and stubby, wiggled in response of the hands so close to my rear end. I shuddered with a tingling excitement.

"This is no place to do this." He spoke to me, and curled his tongue with mine a moment more, and then pulled back. Rising up, he lets me stand and then gestures for me to follow. He dressed in his robe, and I grabbed my tunic.

As reserved for the power-touched members of the tribe, Song had his own chambers carved into the stone and earth. Closing the door, made of rare and expensive oak, he bolted it closed and turned to face me, as I stood quiet in the incense rich room. The walls are carved with murals and captured maps made on rare and valuable paper. Magical artifacts lay on shelves, tools for his work on crafting better and stronger equipment for those who earn, or can pay for, such glorious artwork.

"So you want to barter for better equipment, hm?" He asked, clacking his claw tips together for a moment. He drew to me, I stood on a surface-beasts fur and let my toes work into the warm fuzz. It felt good, it made my toes tingle and tail squirm. I looked up at him, and his snout lifted, imperious. "You've the stone. It'll be good for a starting payment, but I need more from you than just that pretty, glittery bauble."

"I'm already in your service." I spoke, and looked around the room once again. My eyes worked just as perfectly in the dark as they did the light, and I lighted my eyes on his grand wooden dresser, stolen from the dark elves in a raid. "I've always been in your service, Song."

"Yes." He spoke, and stepped to join me on the fur. One hand lifted to cup my cheek, and he tenderly caressed over the warm blue scales, and across the silver under markings there. He stroked my cheek down to my throat, and squeezed. "I know. You belong to me."

My knees tremble. I did. It was a statement of truth that even Jhrall would have accepted as truth. His hand squeezed my throat again, and pulled down, dropping me down to my knees and I sunk there, looking up at the face of my liege and master. He smiled - touching my cheek, and cupped beneath it.

"I will take care of you. I always will." He yet spoke, and then drew his robe open as I knelt in front of him. His robe, laced with draconic script and dancing with hidden magic that gave it, gave him, immense power; he stroked his fingers across my cheek and kneaded along my throat. Holding a hand atop my head, he stepped forward, and touched his penis to my lips. I kissed it, and looked up to him, worshipfully. I took him into my mouth, and I nursed, with the silver ball at the tip of my tongue stroking slowly across the underside of his glans, then up to stroke his urethra. "Now suck."

He dribbled across my tongue and laid his head back, groaning softly to the heavens. He held me by the horns as I suckled, and pushed down, until my mouth was at his root, and those large, heavy testicles were at a nice push against my chin. He held me there, then pulled his hips back, only to push back in once again. He was slow and soft in his stroking, and my tongue curled around him with a pleasurable squeeze on his thighs. My fingers tightened, as I stroked up his body, and back down.

"I'm so glad I stopped to help you. Alone, lost, broken, I've kept you." His hips lifted and fell again, he thrusting into my mouth while I looked up at him again, groaning softly. My fingers curled up to squeeze him on that firm ass of his. His scent was rough and heady, his flavor filling my senses, almost pushing me over as I closed my eyes and pushed down, sucking harder. "I found you, pet. You are mine. I will keep you."

His hips lifted and fell faster, as I sucked him off and stayed knelt on the rug, letting him use my mouth like it were a vent, and I always felt a strange, hot tingling when he used me. Both hands gripped my horns as he fucked faster, his nuts almost aching my chin as he used me. Down and fast, he rolled himself up and shoved against me, his knees bumping against my chest. I groaned tightly, he finding my throat and made me gag and choke, but that had never stopped him before.

He fucked my face, and his teeth clenched with a grimace, as though deciding if he wanted to continue, or go somewhere all the deeper. I think I loved him. It was hard to say how much, kobolds weren't really known for the depth of their love, but love still existed. His cock throbbed in my throat, and I looked up at him. Our eyes met, locked, and held. And then, he shot his cum into my throat, and I was forced to swallow it down, the heat flowing down into my throat and stomach. It settled there, heavily on my stomach, and he held me there for a long moment. He settled there, watching.

It was a full minute before he pulled back, and left me coughing with the soreness of my throat to match the warmth of his sperm in my belly. He looked down at me, panting. He licked his lips, as though his mouth were dry. I panted. I was panting. It hurt a little, but I waited.

"I love you." I said, though I felt small to say it.

He said nothing, but gestured me to stand, and lead me to his bed.

His bed was grand, something purchased from the surface and made with heavy cloth, stuffed with feathers, and smelling of his body and the long nights of sleep spent in it. I climbed up onto it and crawled to the center, then looked to him. He hopped up with a clap of his wings, and then sat down before me. I sat facing him, and held his golden eyed gaze without flinching. He put his hands upon my shoulder, and I held his knees when he did so.

He lifted my cheek and stroked a line there, the tip of his claw warm, and soft in its brushing. Leaning back after a moment, he propped himself upon a pillow, and let his brow perk up. Lifting a foot, he put it to my chest, and I understood. I took his feet into my hands, and started to rub and caress along the long, talented digits with careful ministration. He smiled, and his head laid back, as I worked my thumbs along the soles of his heel, then up to caress my palm over his toes. He always enjoyed having attention paid to his feet, and I was always glad to give it.

I bent my head and kissed each of his ankles, then slid down to my belly, to have better reach of his body. A pleasurable sigh left him, and I lowered my head, to nuzzle his shins, then down, lowering my head until I could kiss the heel of each foot. Those toes curled and gripped my face a moment, then relaxed. In devotion to him - though I could care less for the act myself - I began to wash his feet, and suckled lightly on his toes. This was always something that made him groan - and I knew he found it most pleasurable. I couldn't guess why - but his feet were tender, soft, and he loved it when I used my mouth on them.

Really, he liked it when I used my mouth on almost every part of him.

"Are you content?" I shook my head, not knowing what to say. His voice was kind, but I could not miss the strength of his voice - a voice tone which sent pleasant tremors down my spine. "Are you satisfied?"

I raised my eyes up to look into his, and found myself drawn to the sheer intensity of his gaze. He had always had the ability to look into my soul, and I felt that scriers gaze hunting my thoughts and inner self, and I felt a moment of fear. He saw the dark in me, and the light, and he watched it without judging. He saw what I was, and who I had been, and even there he did not hate me. No, he smiled, and breathed a whisper of magic.

"No. I am not satisfied." I whispered, and stroked my hands across the lean muscle of his chest. I pinched here and caressed there, down to his belly, then up to his chin. "But, I am content. As content as I could ever be, with you."

The magic buzzed in the air, and I felt the tension flee from me, leaving me as content outside as I was inside. And then, with utmost care, he pushed me back, and cupped my hips, so that I lay out before him. Looking up, my hands tucked to my chest, and I bit my lower lip gently. I felt tingly, and the magic was through me again. The magic glowed around him, as he cupped my hips, and pulled me firmly down, as that his thighs were against my flanks.

"Song, I love you." I whispered again, and cupped his cheek. He looked down to me, his eyes a fiery shade of orange that made me think of the sun in the world above. I held his face, and he pulled both of my hands over my head. Sliding between my legs, he climbed me, and ground his body against mine in a forceful, downward stroke. He was hard. I was too, for that matter.

"I know you do." He growled, and his teeth pinched my throat as he rubbed himself on me. I was his, and I let out a low crooning hiss that agreed with his forceful suggestion. How could I resist someone like him? Who, really, would want to, at that? His teeth pinched, and he drew blood and tugged - ripping scales to show, to claim me visibly, as he had claimed me mentally. I cried out. There was fire, and then his tongue lapped at my bleeding shoulder. "You are mine."

I was. I was his. My heart pounded in my chest. He pulled my hips up, and I crossed my legs together behind his back - and my heels pushed down into the middle of his back. The tips of his fingers curled around and caressed along the cleft of my rump. Spreading me, his fingers dug into my rear end and he pushed up, splaying the taut curve of my haunches before angling himself down, and rubbing the pointed tip between those warm, blue cheeks. I didn't deny him. He pushed into me, forcing himself deep, and in devotion, I took him.

I took him. Scratching his back and gripping the roots of his wings, I held him as he mounted me, and took me deep. His hands held me down as he rut himself into me, He took me and let his hips raise and fall, working slowly into me, and slowly withdrawing out of me. I grit my teeth, and he bit me again.

Each push, each thrust, each work of his hips sent shivers up my spine and through the root of my tail. He bred into me, and again the whispered words of power as he shuddered himself up as his hips smacked against my flanks, and his need burdened itself against my body. I groaned, and he struck points that always made me shudder and my toes curl so very nicely. They hung in the air and shook with each slaking thrust he took into me, and again I cried out when he kissed me - my moans shuddering deep into his mouth as our tongues curled against each other, as our tongues writhed as snakes in heat and he claimed me again, again, and again. A hand, his or mine I couldn't tell, gripped and matched his pacing, and I groaned for its warmth.

My head swum as I felt his breath puff out, his penis as hard as adamantine and his balls slapping harder and harder as he gave way to his passions. I loved him in those moments, and my eyes locked to his. I watched his face, twitches running it and a contortion passing through when he shook - but he was not giving into his passion just yet. He broke the kiss, and continued the words of power, before he arched, and he thrust hard - his back arching up and his tail lifting, and I felt the power rush through him, and into me - and his body contracted with a rush of orgasm. His seed, hotter than magma, burned through me, and I clutched to him with a loud, guttural scream that was passion, and entirely atavistic. I gave in. I gave him everything. I took it all and sang our mating song.

And then he collapsed onto me, and I relaxed beneath him. Low whimpers left me, and I shuddered from the power of the moment, and held him. I held him, I loved him, and I worshiped him. I was his, and he had only returned the claim after a week without reinforcing it. He thrusts slowed, and began to lose their force, until he just settled his hips against my flanks, and laid over me, holding me.

"I love you too." He breathed against the side of my skull, and I closed my eyes. I was glad to hear him say those words, words he was always hesitant to say. I would never push him to say it, but those words were balm to my soul.

We lay in his bed for almost an hour, and he took me three more times before he finally finished his lusts, and let go of the magic that had sustained him. He collapsed against me after filling me a third time, and his arms shrouded me, holding me, and caressed me. I kissed him, and then let myself drift away into the dark of dreams.

I was content.