The Lady Doth Protest Too Much, Methinks

[Aver Brand]

“Well ya sure travel a lot, don’tcha?”

Aver quirked a brow when small hands sought to play with strands of black and red. Not a karkin’ chance, said the blue eyes. “I helped the Alliance take back Coruscant,” the merc conceded to the fretting child as they scaled the stone steps. “Two of us took down a whole One Sith fortress on our own. Blew up the generators that powered four districts, and collapsed the whole thing.”

“That’s why they call it the Blackout, kiddo.”

With a wink at the wide-eyed boy, Aver yoinked him down by a foot and flung him, laughing, into the water below.

A distant splash and a giggle followed as the merc rejoined the queen in the doorway. “You could probably do with a swim too,” she said with a passing smirk, gaze raking down tanned muscle and leather covered in blood.

“Unless you’d rather I clean you off, majesty?”

 

[Quietus]

Eor gasped as he emerged from the lagoon depths, shaking water from his face and wiping hair from his eyes.

Isantiir find the other two and tell them to clean up for the ceremony, this sent to the boy alone.

"Mazi!" he yelled from the lagoon below, aghast at this apparent order. Yeah, telling those two to do anything was going to go over real well.

Mmf, Beastia eyed the Merc back, leaning to open the door, get in the tree, Aver Brand.

 

[Aver Brand]

“Dahl Dahl Dahl Dahl Dahl Dahl Dahl Dahl Dahl Ari?”

Wet clothes clinging to his lanky form, the taller of the twins came to an abrupt stop in front of the pair. They sat sprawled in the wet puddle, leaning on each other with tired grins. Green and purple turned to greet their brother – the only way to tell the two mudmen apart.

“Masza says to get cleaned up and dress for the feast and and I get to sit with At’atri!” he declared in a single breath, eyes gleaming.

Ari sniffled and spat out a glob of dirt. He still had no clue where the dagger was.

In a flash of second wind, the boy sprung back to his feet, swept Dahl up mid-sprint, and ran them both into the river. He laughed all the way.


Blowing her a kiss as she slipped past, the merc started up the spiral steps. Her fingers brushed against the smooth grain, and Aver dipped her chin to peek over her shoulder at the Beastia.

“You still haven’t told me what this whole feast’s about.”

 

[Quietus]

Dahl squealed and giggled the whole way, her voice only cut off as Ari tossed her off the wooden dock and jumped in after her.


It's the annual Harvest Festival to celebrate the change of season, Quietus did manage a reply despite the distraction of a particular Merc's rear end in her face all the way up the staircase. Wasn't helping the itch for action driven by the lingering adrenaline in her veins, prolonged by the succession of todays events.

Death. Fury. Blood. The Hunt. Raw power.

With the feast hour drawing near there would be only one other thing missing from this night to make it all perfect and, she thought with a smile, it was truly a blessing that Aver had shown up when she did. With Luc gone away on business she would have had to settle for something much less.

Not anymore.

Tonight we also celebrate the dismantling of a distant clan's mutinous leadership.

Aver disembarked from the staircase at an open doorway to the first deck of the treehome. As with all decks the tree itself, abnormally massive in stature and nature, had been hollowed out. What appeared to be a solar of sorts met her gaze, illuminated by candelabras made from the bones of Onderon beasts.

 

[Aver Brand]

Aver could feel the green eyes glued to her ass all the way up the stairs. Maybe that’s why she swayed her hips just a bit more than usual. Maybe she was just that fething smug.

“You know I won’t say no to piles of meat,” the merc spoke with a particular yearning. For a few moments, a dripping, thick slab of steak appeared before her longing eyes. When had she last eaten, actually? Her stomach growled on cue, and Aver groaned in response.

Crappy hyperspace travel.

“With fire and sword, mm?” Aver peered at the Beastia as she took stock of her surroundings. Unlike most people, who appreciated new places for their décor, the merc assessed their defensibility instead. Her blue eyes glinted in the flickering flames.

“You look lovely in that shade of red,” she confessed with perhaps less innuendo than Quietus had every right to expect. The blood and battle that clung to her lover spurred… baser desires.

Aver blinked away the not entirely unwelcome images and canted her head at the solar.

“So, this is these are the Queen’s chambers?” A brow quirked. “Nice view.”

And she wasn’t even looking at the room. Typical.

 

[Quietus]

The home had not originally been shaped with defensibility in mind. In her youth she had sought out a place to call her own; an area she could steal away to when she needed reprieve from her duties of Beastia. Over the years it had grown out of necessity, but it was wholly a product of her younger mind's desires. The defensibility had come much later and it showed. Or didn't, as the case may be. Weapons were stowed around the room, both on display and hidden. Bows, quivers, readied arrows. Daggers and swords. A myriad other Beast Rider complements in all their various forms. An escape route here, a hidden passage there. Couldn't undo centuries of foundational growth, but she could add to it and, in some places, subtract.

But Quietus wasn't admiring her home along with Aver - no, she was admiring the Merc. Had been some time since her last visit and if she wasn't so certain it was simply her own primal instincts on overdrive she might've admitted to missing the woman.

Nice view.

Yes. Yes it was.

A rakish grin stole the Beatia's expression, fangs openly showing as she sidled over to the Merc and drew upon her without so much as a blink for permission. The pauldrons were promptly abandoned for hands to make purchase of Aver's waist while her mouth claimed her neck and jawline. It was a forceful advance, one that would walk Aver back into the wall if she didn't resist. The Beastia was hungry and damned if she didn't get something to sate that need.

 

[Aver Brand]

Aver wasn’t an angsty teenager anymore. Hadn’t been for a long while, if she’d ever truly qualified in the first place. Not much space for angst between gang shootouts and gambling dens but, to drive the simile home – she didn’t resist things just to spite the man anymore.

Or woman, as it were.

Her back hit the wall with a pleasant force, wood with just enough bite. Not as much as the Beastia, though. Nothing like a good killing to get the blood going. Couldn’t remember how many times she’d karked in the ruins after a battle – and to be perfectly honest, she wasn’t even trying.

Not when there were so many distractions in arm’s reach.

Hands drifted down Qui’s lean torso as the promise of teeth raked her skin. Blue eyes closed, mouth curling into a wide grin as she tipped her head back, offering more silver throat to her hungry lover.

For the moment, the merc was quite content being mauled by a ravenous Queen.

 

[Quietus]

Proceeded only by the pressure of lips and the warmth of a tongue, the fangs sank in with greed and thirst. Driven by an instinct that would not be denied she lay claim to the woman with force, armored body holding her against the wall, hands raking across her back. Were it not for the bodyglove those nails would have peeled through flesh as a blade through paper and she would have been unapologetic for it.

Apologies were saved for those of greater prominence.

This was not an encounter driven by mere want for pleasure.

Aver was not a fixture in her life.

So why​

With the woman's blood pooling across fangs and tongue

couldn't she keep from smiling​

drenching her throat with that cool, metallic sting,

every time the woman's presence​

suffusing her senses with electricity, her mind with color.

tugged on the bloodtrail?​

Her fangs pulled free, but her lips persisted to claim the free-flowing ochre in its trail down her neck.

And why​

Rough hands migrated to Aver's front, a zipper sough and zipper found to bare the hidden skin beneath where the blood had traveled.

was it so hard to stop?​

 

[Aver Brand]

Wasn’t nothing as dignified as a hiss or a gasp of breath. Though she’d known it was coming, Aver was nonetheless caught flat-footed by the sheer zeal with which fangs tore through her flesh.

Her mouth fell open with a moan, grin wiped from her face. The pain she could take – the pain was part of the fun honestly. But oh, those insistent hands, peeling off the bodysuit like it personally offended Qui by existing in the first place.

The Beastia had been rough on occasion, and they’d exchanged more than gentle blows the first time they’d met, but this?

Aver could get behind this. Mentally, physically, however you put it.

Not that she was getting much of a chance tonight, it seemed. At least not until the Queen drank her fill and smeared her chest with blood, again. The merc chuckled into the heavy night air, grabbing Qui by the ass and pulling her against her thigh.

“You want the whole feast to know you’re karking me?” The breathy quality to her voice implied she didn’t take much issue with the idea. “Because that’s the way to do it.”

 

[Quietus]

She had that infernal bodyglove peeled off the woman in record time - the top portion, anyway, and her hands were working their way lower as those breathless words escaped Aver. Quietus did not pause to answer, did not even care to give it a second of her time. The answer came in the form of forward persistence, fingers pushing across skin and beneath material for purchase of other flesh that would make the Merc far too breathless for more words. Impressed upon her a steely will and an unyielding weight that would not allow for reciprocity.

Sometimes I like to be ... taken.

Words she remembered well.

To give and tangle ... well, that would come later.

Now she could take delight in making the woman sweat from all that heat under the collar while she rode the high lit by her blood.

~~~

The Feast

The long table sat along the rise of grass overlooking the river, accompanied by tens of dozens of others - one for every tribe and gorup in attendance. They were filling fast with people and drink and food. Everyone awaited the arrival of the Beastia to begin the harvest ceremony. She arrived to the music of drums and woodwind instruments, the bangles of her ceremonial garb announcing every step. At her side walked the Mercenary, cleaned and re-clothed for the evening in something a bit more comfortable.

Three seats at the center were already taken by the children - Dahl presently occupying her brothers with the story of her afternoon spent training at Irontown with At'atri Aver.

 

[Aver Brand]

It was the small blessings.

Granted, rapid regeneration had saved her ass in far graver circumstances yet, but it was moments like these that she truly had the time to be thankful.

See, she could’ve been limping beside the Beastia.

Now she could walk in with a languid swagger, her smirk lurking somewhere between smug and calculating. Aver had every intention of elaborating to the queen just how much she’d enjoyed her calloused hands and long fangs. Preferably several times, to really emphasize her appreciation.

Oh, and that dress—

The merc blinked, banishing the lingering heat. She paused to consider the seating arrangement. Not for long – an impatient hand tugged on her sleeve, and Aver glanced down to meet Eor’s excited green eyes.

She… may have forgotten about that. Frak.

“Alright, come on,” she grunted, lifting a hand so he could scramble into her lap. Nostrils flared. Blue gaze flickered over to Qui, now with a slight sheen of desperation.

“If you bother me while I’m eating, kiddo, I’ll tie you to that tree.”

 

[Quietus]

The Beastia took her seat to the teeming chatter of those gathered there. The long table hosted all the great warchiefs and honored warriors. Priests and Shamans. Notable Riders and Tamers. People she held great pride for and she graced them with a deeply pleased smile to their warm greeting. With the Queen in attendance the ceremony could begin.

Off in the distance war drums sounded and a parade of warriors - the very same that had returned with her earlier - marched a procession between the rows of tables with torches in their hands and the beat of the drum guiding their steps. The front group carried a great hulking dark mass, charred and smoking with portions still freely burning and dripping across the ground. As they drew nearer Aver may or may not be able to tell exactly what she was looking at.

It was a heart.

A massive. Fething. Heart.

It took six men to carry it,

and it smelled delicious.

The children's looks of expectation were matched by those around them as the procession stopped to place the great tray they carried on an empty dais sitting just before the long table, directly across from them.

A man stepped around from behind carrying in his hands a carved stone bowl and moved to set it on the table before the Beastia. He began to recite words in the tribal tongue, hoarse voice carrying over a falling hush. Quietus stood from her seat, green eyes glazed from the high she still presently rode, and stared with dark mirth bubbling in her expression.

"Ey settoh vor-razzi, der-noa Zittiir Kelek, da narihs."​

Another heart sat within the basin filled with blood. A human heart.

The man reached in to retrieve it offered it, blood dripping everywhere, to the Beastia.

She took it in her hands, Dahl and Eor watching in awe and excitement. At a poke from the Merc Eor leaned to whisper a translation to her: "He says The war is settled, death to Zittiir Kelek, the wingless."

Pleasure splitting across her expression, Quietus held the heart aloft to the further splattering of blood as it dripped down her hands and arms.

"DER-NOA ZITTIIR KELEK, DA NARIHS!" an uproarious cheer resounded, the children yelled with the crowds, breaking into thunderous applause that rattled the tables with hands and fists as the Beastia bit into the heart and began to devour it.

The warriors began to hack away at the massive heart on the dais with large blades, cleaving off great chunks to set on platters to be served across the tables. Aver only had to blink before one of the trays slammed upon the table before her with a huge blade sticking out of it.

 

[Aver Brand]

Damn karking right did it smell delicious.

Firrerreo were far more gifted when it came to the sense of smell. Hungry firrerreo? Aver began salivating before that heart even made it past the tents. Her stomach growled again, and the kid in her lap sent her a wide eyed look.

Aver quirked a brow right back, and Eor swiftly turned around.

A ritual followed. A ritual the merc honestly didn’t much care about – even after the second small menace whispered a translation over the drums. She didn’t care right until the point Qui sank her fangs into the human heart and let the blood run down those strong, tattooed forearms and mmhmmm—

Blink. Shet.

She lifted the child for a moment and crossed her legs.

Her body wanted many things, and it was compounding into a curled knot in her gut. Hunger. Hunger. Aver resisted the urge to glance over at the Beastia and instead attacked the massive chunk of charred meat.

Maybe gods did exist?

Eor forgotten – boy had to dodge under the hunk of heart – the merc bit deep into the juicy flesh. Blue eyes closed in pleasure, and Aver hummed around the mouthful as she tore off the meat, fat and blood dripping down her chin.

Say what you will, but these beast people could throw a karking party.

“What are we eatin’, kid?”

The boy parted from his own slice after a beat, neatly chewing and swallowing before providing an answer: “Drexl.”

Aver glanced down. Dragon heart?

“Karkin’ A,” and she sank her teeth back in.

 

[Quietus]

The heart in her hands quickly fell victim to unrelenting fangs and hunger. When all but a third of it was left the Beastia gave pause, staring upon it in tepid consideration. Those that surrounded her were not paying attention and were not meant to. The feast was their primary attraction in this hour but there was ceremony to be had within the private moments between herself and her children. Bringing the heart back to her teeth she tore another chunk off and lower her hand to offer it to her eldest: Arathul.

He looked up, cheeks full and chin dripping, with an expression that likely could not properly show his surprise and jubilation. The exclamation that followed was entirely unintelligible but the right feeling was there. She grinned, bloodied teeth showing behind crimson stained lips, and watched him with a foggy gaze as he added the morsel to his mouth. Reaching forward with her empty hand Quietus drew marks of blood across his face - a traditional tribal blessing for a growing warrior.

This was repeated with Dahl and Eor until all of the rival Clan Lord's heart was gone, his strength shared to sustain the coming generation.

With the jingle of ornaments the Beastia then sunk back into her seat, easing into it with a foggy contentment while watching her people celebrate.

Trays continued to pile in with more and more food. Vegetables, breads, fruits, raw fish, smoked meats, baked items, mead, wine, broth -- the feast was meant to be filling and there was no shortage of product. This year's harvest had been especially bountiful. The smells and sounds and conversation of the people rolled into the twilight hours and seats slowly began to empty. Entertainment filtered in in the form of music and dancers and singers. Firebreathers, aerial contests of the tamers and their mounts. The children fled their empty plates to put their own skills to the test.

All the while the Beastia remained seated. She'd not eaten much - not compared to those set at either side of her. The woman seemed perfectly pleased simply watching the others in her state of still-lingering euphoria.

 

[Aver Brand]

Ari only lingered as long as it took for their mother to bestow the blood markings upon his two younger siblings. Just as well – gave him enough time to properly chew the stringy heart-meat and swallow it down. Wouldn’t want to be caught choking on a chunk as they were doing skreev-loops through the rings of fire.

The merc, for her part, had weeks of war to make up for. The food kept coming, and Aver kept cleaning her plate. The feasting contest a few tables down could count themselves lucky she was invited to sit by the Queen.

A sated grin slowly began to take shape on her features. Aver slid forward in her seat and washed down the meal with a long drink from her tankard.

Or a, tankard, at any rate. The banks around them were swarming with people, darker even than the sky above them. She let her head roll back and watched the stars wink back through the plumes of smoke. A nearby fire had her curling her feet in delight before she swung forward again.

Elbow propped up against the table, the merc peered up at Qui. Her smile was lazy – her eyes two lidded pools of ice. “So what’s a girl to do at a party like this?” With her free hand, she reached up and trailed a finger through the trickle of blood down her arm. “Gonna show me around?”

 

[Quietus]

Jungles beneath a vapid fog slowly shifted to the shadowed lagoons and rested there for the sounds of the words leaving lips of red. Syllables that echoed in the distance with the singers and the chanters, the bellows and cheers of crowds. That silver face swam in her vision hazey and ephemeral, glistening all sterling and ruby.

A smile formed then on the Beastia's lips, one that pulled her forward from the back of her seat and to within a hairsbreadth of Aver's face. Green peaked and bowed, slowly taking in the woman with consideration for what to do.

What to do...

Deviousness gleamed an emerald blade, lips faintly pursing to thoughts of mischief.

Come with me.

Quietus rose from her seat then, cheek brushing across Aver's, and bare feet moved across soft earth and grass to lead Aver into the festivities.

 

[Aver Brand]

Aver had enough presence of mind left to grab her tankard, and then they were off. It took her another two swigs of warm alcohol to realize that Quietus hadn’t quite released her. She blinked down through the darkness, peering at their joined fingers with a distinct air of offense.

The merc reclaimed her hand with haste and just followed the trail of the unbridled Forcer. For the thousands of creatures ebbing in this crowd, there was only one like Des.

“We’ve had this conversation,” she hummed as they came to a stop. Her words lacked their usual bite, though – maybe it was the drink, maybe it was the years.

“Aight. Hold my mead.” Nonchalant, the merc shoved her mug at the Queen and strode over to the line of archers ahead. In no time she’d acquired a bow and quiver from a somewhat reluctant quartermaster. With a smirk she slotted herself between the eldest beast-spawn and nocked her first bolt.

twang

Let the games begin.

 

[Quietus]

To be certain the Beastia remembered not and cared not for the apparent conversation already had. The mead was taken and, as soon as the Merc disappeared through the crowd, idly handed off to some thirsty tribesperson. Without much effort on her own part Quietus moved to the front of the crowds standing watch. Silent amidst the chorus of chatter and cat-calling, she watched with deepening amusement as the contest commenced.

What started with two-dozen contestants slowly whittled down to just a handful. Aver held her own and were the Beastia less blurred in her mind she might've considered this to be curious. Aver had proven a decent shot, but the bow and arrow was far off her list of preferred weapons.

Dahl, on the otherhand, knew right away that something was awry. She was an excellent shot and she knew, could sense, that Aver was brass-balls cheating. When it got down to just them the girl stood there red-faced. Dahl might've had her temper and her own explosive use of the Force at the worst of times, but she'd been taught not to cheat. That the Force was a tool, not a toy, and not to be used so flippantly. True skill relied on no Force but those of the disciplined body.

Ironic that these teachings should go the way of the dodo in the future.

The last arrows knocked and released.


Ssssssft.

 

[Aver Brand]

In between rounds, Aver had availed herself of a new jug of mead. Or maybe it was spiced beer. It smelled different than the last – stronger, too.

When it came down to the merc and the tiny menace, icy eyes were having a spot of trouble bringing that target into proper focus. And they’d gone to move it further away, the bastards. Still.

She was nothing if not a winner.

Licking her teeth, Aver slid a sly gaze over to the older twin. When Dahl released her arrow, the merc puffed out a languid breath – as if to sweep a red curl from her face. And if that shot went a little high, well…

Smirking, she took aim herself. In her smugness, Aver didn’t notice a pissed-off child lunging for her back until they were already tumbling over the grass, one yelling, the other laughing.

In the final round, nobody hit the target.

 

[Quietus]

Aver wasn't the only one laughing. The match was a forfeit on account of neither contestant was willing to take a final shot. The call went out to the next round and somebody managed to pry a yelling, snarling, writhing Dahl off of Aver.

The Beastia watched this with a humored expression and sifted into the mingling crowds to find Aver picking herself off the ground. Someone else shoved a fresh horn of mead into Aver's empty hands. A chorus of cheering and yelling rang out from the riverbanks, drawing the Queen's attention. She motioned with a flick of her head for Aver to follow.

This was a different sort of challenge, one of teams and one that Arathul was particularly fond of. It called for brute strength mostly and out of the Shamalain trio he topped them in sheer mass and muscle. It began with opposing teams of 10 and one very giant log situated perpendicular to the river on the muddy shore. There each team set up, staggered and on opposite sides of the log, with their forearms looped under to curl their chests against it. The horn sounded and the teams did their damnedest to push the their opponent around the bank and into the water. There was some strategy in this in where to put your strongest team mates to be able to turn the log's far end around. But you had to balance the strength, elsewise your opponents could turn things around.

It was an absolute mess by the time they got to the higher banks to watch. Arathul was below but it was difficult to say where: everyone was covered in mud and grime. People lost their footing, fell, sometimes got trampled as their opponents pushed the log forward, but so long as a single team member stood the game was still on. You only won once you managed to push the entire other team out into the waters.