For 'manda. Sorry it took so long...
Penance
A swirl of pale golden limbs, night-silvered hair floating around the lithe slender figure as it danced naked among the trees.
Breathlessly, he watched from the shadows. Gods, but she was beautiful! Dancing alone, eyes raised to the sky, starlight and the soft, leaf-dappled illumination from the distant palace windows brushing her supple body with light and shadow - every movement dragging him further and further into her enchantment...
Zorun woke with a gasp, shaking, hands clutched to his aching groin. He could still see her dancing in his mind, her arms stretched out to him, her smile shy and warm - and he came before he could regain control, his back arched, hot wetness splattering across his body, snarling his frustration to the empty room.
The empty bed.
Shivering despite the sweat that rolled down his body, despite the heat of the room, he stumbled to the bathroom and stood under the cold spray, sluicing semen from his hands and belly and groin then leaning back, the icy water biting into his skin like needles.
He had no idea how long he stood there, but he was numb with cold by the time he dragged himself back to bed. Curling around himself in an effort to warm up, he stared unblinkingly into the darkness, his head pounding.
Mahrayne.
She filled his dreams. He found himself thinking of her in unguarded moments, the memory of her golden-bronze eyes disturbing. And it was making him very, very angry.
How had it started? He supposed it must have been that first time they met, when the alien baita had, to his absolute but immediately hidden amazement, stood up to him. Hn...more guts than sense... He'd been privately a little impressed, though, both by her courage and hunting skill - it wasn't easy to catch a grittig. Not that he'd ever show it, of course. But he'd watched her as the three females had prepared their catch. Her movements were a little slower than the Saiyans', a little more graceful, a little less... exact. Although she'd wielded the knife with considerable skill, almost as precisely as Leteetza used the finest sliver of ki to carve her pig, thin strong fingers moulding energy into a cutting blade. That white hair was thick and full, too, under the ridiculous bands she used to keep it back out of the way. Almost Saiyan. Idly, he imagined her with a long, soft white tail wrapped around her waist - or even better, waving gracefully behind her...
He shook himself. What a fucking stupid idea! The little slut was pure alien, tailless, ki almost non-existent. Pathetically weak. She reminded him of a flower, and he could crush her as easily. Pity the King's Companion liked her so much.
He'd growled to himself. Leteetza! Damn the little ama for ever throwing herself at the king in the first place! Alien loving slut...
He'd forced himself to remain emotionless for the rest of the hunt, accepting and eating Mahrayne's offering without comment. Later he'd reported back to the king, keeping his face and voice neutral. Vejiita had nodded at his description of the Hassinan's behaviour during the hunt.
"Not entirely without some fire, then. And reasonable hunting abilities, and happy to get her hands dirty. Good. I would not like a delicate weakling tutoring the heirs."
Zorun stared, hoping that didn't mean what it sounded like.
"Sire?"
Vejiita glanced up at him, smirking.
"Mahrayne will be remaining with us when the delegation leaves. She will be assisting Leteetza in teaching the heirs - all of them, including the lizards' brats." He paused for a moment, watching the horrified warrior's face pale, then grinning. "I will, of course, expect you to make yourself available to guard them if required, when you are not with me."
Heart sinking, Zorun bowed.
"Hai, your Majesty."
Vejiita nodded - then frowned, turning sharply towards the door. Seconds later one of the Consorts' attendants almost fell into the room, babbling hysterically. Zorun moved forward and pulled the female to her feet, slapping her face very lightly to calm her down. She gasped and shuddered, then gazed frantically at the king, her face white, body shaking violently.
"Majesty... you must come... Sheftali..."
The king had been more deeply disturbed than he'd admit by the female's suicide. He'd been silent and scowling as Zorun accompanied him back to the main office, where he'd swiftly convened the Council and told them what had happened. Limau had frowned.
"Sire, this is - tragic, of course, but better we found out now than in a year's time, when she'd have had the opportunity to gather support. And poison the heirs' minds."
"That's most unlikely, with Leteetza taking on their upbringing. And it's also unlikely, under the circumstances, that anyone would risk exile to Hassina's mines by rallying to her. No, it's more likely I'd have woken with a knife between my ribs."
There was a moment of shocked silence, then Limau frowned.
"And Kayusu? Was she involved? Does she pose a threat?"
Vejiita shook his head.
"I think not. But I'll take steps to make sure."
Zorun hadn't been present at the official signing ceremony to welcome Hassina into the Empire: Vejiita had insisted on no guards at all as a show of trust. When Zorun had objected, the king had knocked him into a wall then pointed out that, 1, the Hassinan ki was so low as to be almost imperceptible, 2, this meant they really wouldn't be much of a threat, 3, they wanted this treaty so badly he could almost taste it, though he wasn't entirely sure yet why this should be so (but then again, the Saiyans hadn't enlightened the Hassinan as to why they were being accepted so quickly and easily, either) and 4, he (Vejiita) and Zha'haabron, who was even more powerful, would both be present. The risk was so low as to be practically non-existent.
Zorun didn't like it, but had no choice in the matter.
He was, however, ordered to attend the feast that marked the culmination of the delegation's visit to Vejiitasei. As the king's personal guard, which meant he didn't get to enjoy any of the food. But at least he'd be able to keep an eye on things - and the aliens.
Though when he arrived in the sumptuous dining room he felt almost as though they'd all turned into aliens! Outraged and dismayed, Zorun had gazed around the table. The captain of the Elite Guard, instead of wearing uniform as was proper, was in some strange dark golden outfit, with loose trousers tucked into deep golden leather knee boots, the sleeveless tunic that covered his torso close-fitting and open to the waist. And his mane was tied back! Near him was Zha'haabron: not content with his usual finery, the lizard High King had even plaited some sort of jewels into his hair - and the little lizard prince sitting solemnly between the pair was also bedecked with jewellery. And as for the King's Companion - Leteetza was wearing a robe very similar to the Hassinan female's, except that it was dark green instead of bright blue. And she was wearing a headband, like the High King's but less elaborate. And some sort of necklace. And bracelets! She looked... looked... alien...
With relief Zorun realised that the king - and his heirs, sitting quietly between the two females - were dressed conservatively in dark blue bodysuits, topped in Vejiita's case with the traditional cloak and armour of the royal House. At least something was recognisably normal at this meal...
Once the delegation had left, the usual routine resumed in the palace. At least, Zorun assumed it was usual - it wasn't at all the same as under the old king. However, he gradually - grudgingly - came to see that Vejiita, far from betraying the Saiya-jin, was actually promoting and advancing their status in the galaxy. It slowly sank in that there really was no room for parochialism on Vejiitasei any longer...
He thought no more of the Hassinan female - until one night when he was returning from the city to the barracks.
The cold season was behind them, the early flowers opening, promising a rich harvest of fruits. And Moonyear was advancing: sensitive high-ki males could already feel the irresistible, sensuous pull of the coming Moon. He'd walked, for once, enjoying the night sounds and rich scents around him - then suddenly stilling as a faint, sweet fragrance drifted on the air. Frowning, unable to recognise it, he followed it, prowling silently, using the shadows to remain concealed...
She was naked. Those strange skin decorations catching the faint light, gleaming like little jewels on her body. Her hair was loose. And she was dancing.
The only dancing he'd ever seen was that performed by the teasers at the sex clubs, blatant, deliberately arousing, the young and pretty males (and the very few females who ended up in the clubs) sultry and appealing as they sought patrons from the audience. Zorun always believed they'd been taught by aliens: Saiya-jin rarely danced, and when they did it was nothing like that! But Mahrayne...
It was uninhibited and graceful, innocent and sensual at the same time. She believed herself alone, and danced purely for the pleasure of dancing, and it showed in the expression of bliss on her face as she swayed and turned, feet light on the mossy ground. Absolutely fascinated, he halted in the shadows and watched her.
At first the dance was expressive of happiness and freedom, but then it gradually changed. Her delicate hands stroked her own body, teasing herself, brushing over those skin decorations. They were on her body as well as her face, he saw, spirals like the tendrils of climbing plants, like the curled tails of k'killias, like...
One of the planets he'd 'pacified' while with Nappa's military had had a moon with patterns like that etched upon its surface. There'd been something special about it - it had made the ouzaru form somehow more powerful, more... wanton. Ye gods he'd enjoyed that mission!
Against his will he found himself hardening. And as the alien slowed her dance and dropped slowly to kneel on the moss, her thighs wide as one hand slid down to her groin, the other fondling her nipples, he bit his lip and refused to press a hand to his erection. Though as the Hassinan gasped and arched skywards, head flung back and body trembling, her sweet and suddenly musky scent filling his head, it took all his determination not to touch himself.
Mahrayne spread her arms wide and pulled herself gracefully forwards, pressing the side of her face to the moss for a moment then - rippling upright, somehow, hands stretching to the stars as she sighed deeply. Smiling gently to herself, she reached for her robe, shrugged into it, and headed off for the palace.
Zorun watched her retreat - and grinned. Heh - stupid baita! She'd be so embarrassed if she knew he'd been watching.
He decided to save that for later.
But to his intense irritation Zorun found his thoughts returning to that midnight scene far more often than was comfortable. He flung himself whole-heartedly into his duties to distract himself, and for a while it worked. Until the next time he found himself walking back to barracks...
It was raining, a light, steady, refreshing rain, cool and comforting on the skin. Without consciously realising it he'd followed the same route as before - and came upon the same sight.
Mahrayne was dancing in the rain, face upturned, beaming with sheer exultation, her dance a leaping, twirling, joyful celebration. Zorun halted and stared, transfixed, as she shimmered in the soft light.
So beautiful...
Where the fuck had that thought come from!?
He'd worry about it later, he decided, hand settling over his groin as Mahrayne pleasured herself, lying full length on the ground and laughing softly with delight as she came, undulating sinuously against the damp moss, rain sparkling on her skin. She rolled over onto her stomach, pressing herself into the wetness below her, relishing the feel of it against her skin. Zorun closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of her, stroking himself urgently and climaxing quickly, stifling his gasps although he was sure she wouldn't be able to hear. Panting, feeling almost dizzy, he crept further back into the undergrowth, rose from the ground and flew back to barracks, taking a roundabout route to be sure she didn't see him.
Once in his quarters he showered, then lay back on the bed, arms behind his head, frowning at the ceiling.
This was quite simply ridiculous. What the fuck was he thinking of? He should just let the rest of the barracks know what she got up to and have them go watch. That would embarrass the stupid little baita!
The only problem was - he didn't want to share the experience. Share what he knew of her. With anyone. And he couldn't work out why not. She was an alien. She really didn't matter.
Did she...?
"... thing I said?"
Zorun started. His mind had been drifting again, an image of bronze eyes in a tawny face haunting him...
Vejiita was glowering at him.
"You didn't, did you? What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"Sire, I..."
"Forget it." the king snarled. "Get out of here. Get some sleep. Or something. Come back when you can keep your mind on the job."
"But Sire...!"
"And that had better be in less than three days or I'll promote someone else to the position."
Swallowing nervously, Zorun bowed low and left the reception room.
Outside he slammed his fist against the wall, furious with himself. Finally admitting he was obsessed with the Hassinan. Thoughts of her kept him awake at night, visions of her distracted him by day. If she'd been any other alien female he'd have simply taken her, brutally, and worked out his frustration through sex - it would hardly be the first time, after all, although those encounters had all been offworld. But such behaviour wasn't possible here. And the Hassinan had the king's protection.
Violence. That might help. Growling to himself he headed for Guard headquarters in the hope of challenging Radittsu to a sparring session. Fighting with the captain should exhaust him enough to sleep and forget the female for a while.
But to his dismay, at headquarters things were, for once, quiet. Radittsu had most of the guard on some sort of training exercise outside the city - Zorun vaguely remembered talk of the desert combat techniques the lizards used, and how effective they were. In a foul mood and cursing fluently in several different tongues, Zorun slammed out of the messhall and stalked to the exit - only to run into Hijau on his way out.
Literally. The smaller Saiyan had been carrying a stack of reports, which went flying as Zorun turned a corner and barged into him. The fiery-haired officer glared up at the king's guard, snarling. Zorun bared his teeth.
"Want to make something of it, uchujin no aijin?"
Hijau sneered. "From what I've heard, you've no right to talk. How many was it you'd raped at the last count? Fifteen? Twenty? I don't have to force myself on anyone."
The bigger male gaped. How dare he...?
"Kusoyaro! Outside. Now."
Hijau crossed his arms over his chest, smirking.
"Can't take the truth?"
Zorun leaned over him, bringing their faces close together.
"And you aren't male enough to make it with a real female. Tell me, what's it like fucking a lizard?"
"Why don't you try it and find out? Not that they'd let you get within spitting distance - you're too ugly and too... barbaric for their sensibilities."
"I'd rather be a barbarian and a real Saiyan than a spineless, ball-less pile of shit like you."
Hijau grinned, but anger flared behind his eyes.
"Haven't you heard? We're learning culture and tolerance now."
"You think I care?"
"Obviously not." Hijau shook his head and turned to gather up the spilled reports. "I have more important things to do than stand here listening to your crap."
A split-second later a strong hand had grabbed his throat and slammed him into the wall. Gasping for breath, Hijau glared as best he could at the king's guard. Zorun leered.
"Perhaps I should just take you somewhere quiet and fuck you. I'd like to hear you scream."
"What... makes you... think... I'd be the... one.... screaming?" Hijau managed to grate out.
Zorun snorted disbelievingly.
"You really don't know when you're beaten, do you?" His expression hardened as he reached for Hijau's tail...
Radittsu was finishing up the training exercise, his weary, sand-scoured warriors slumped on the dunes of the beach where the captain had run the first of the planned desert combat simulations, when the *call* came through.
**Beloved?**
He frowned: Zha'haabron *sounded* troubled.
*Problem?*
**Yes. And I don't know how best to tackle it. When do you return?**
Radittsu glanced at the exhausted guardsmen, shaking his head slightly. Have to do something about their stamina...perhaps a training trip to R'ren'nkh'ia is in order... He swung his attention back to his bondmate.
*Right now. I'll see you very soon...*
Radittsu frowned and scanned the common room as he strode into the suite. The hostlings were down in the playroom with Mahrayne and Leteetza, as usual, and Ti'aasaan was sitting cross-legged on the bed, Zha'haabron beside him patiently trying to teach him the intricacies of R'ren'nkh'ian formal script. They both glanced up as their bondmate entered, smiling - but it was a muted smile.
"Where's Zha'haarak?"
"With Hijau. In the medical centre."
Radittsu's eyes widened.
"What happened?"
Zha'haabron beckoned him closer, and he seated himself next to his love, one arm gently laid across the broad shoulders. Vinas had reassured him over and over again that the only thing likely to cause any problems for their developing hostlings was too-vigorous sex, but the big Saiyan was so afraid of a repetition of last time he'd taken to treating his beloved like a piece of delicate glassware. Which the king was going to tire of very quickly, though at the moment he was humouring his bondmate. After all, it had been a painful, unpleasant experience for them both...
"Zorun attacked him."
Radittsu blinked.
"What? Why?"
Zha'haabron inclined his head.
"We don't know. Hijau won't say. Neither will Zha'haarak."
Radittsu's mouth set in a firm line as he scowled and rose determinedly from the sleeping platform.
"Right. I'll be back when I've found out what's going on."
Zha'haabron brushed lightly at his mind, concern in the low *voice*.
**Please, take care...**
In the medical centre Zha'haarak was sitting on the bed, both hands clasped around Hijau's left. Radittsu frowned - the younger officer looked dreadful: face and chest heavily bruised, upper body, right arm and hand wrapped in thick dressings, breathing lightly and carefully as he tried not to move his broken ribs any more than necessary. And...
Radittsu breathed in slowly, scenting his second in command...
Zorun. Hijau had had sex with Zorun?
He shook his head. No. Hijau loved to play rough, but he was discriminating and discreet, and since he'd been welcomed into the family group had only coupled with his captain and Zha'haarak - and occasionally Ti'aasaan when the little zn'hre had teased him into it. Which meant...
*He raped you.*
Hijau gazed blearily up at his superior through swollen eyelids and managed a cracked smile.
*I think I need some extra training, sir. I'm not quite strong enough to defend myself against him yet...*
Radittsu growled.
*Don't be so fucking flippant. Why did he do this?*
*He said a few things I didn't like, I said a few he didn't like, it all blew up. It shouldn't have - he never used to be like this. I don't know what's wrong with him, but I'm sure it has to do with one or other of the aliens. And since he picked the fight with me, I'd guess it's one of our aliens.* He shifted carefully, paling as pain lanced through him, and Zha'haarak stroked his mane gently. Radittsu inclined his head, glowering, and crossed his arms.
*Are you going to be alright?*
Hijau tilted his head to rest against Zha'haarak's hand, eyes closing, expression suddenly haunted.
*I will be. I've known worse.*
*But not while you've been part of us.* Radittsu growled, his anger growing. He smiled tightly at the gentle zn'hre.
"Will you look after him?"
Zha'haarak nodded, one slender hand stroking the flame-bright hair.
"Of course, my Ssii'iir."
"Good." He brushed his fingers over the younger Saiyan's cheek. *Rest. I'll be back later.*
*Where are you going?*
*To have words with Zorun...*
He sat slumped on his bed, head in his hands. Bleakly unhappy. Aching from the not-inconsiderable blows Hijau had managed to land and his hand still bleeding from the deep bite the younger male, refusing to give in, had inflicted after Zorun had broken his right arm and the fingers of his right hand and wrenched his left arm up behind his back.
It had been joyless and harsh, hurting himself almost as much as his victim, and Hijau had refused to scream, bearing the pain of broken bones and dry, tearing penetration without a sound. Zorun had come quickly, without satisfaction, and wrenched out, dropping the younger male to the ground, suddenly horrified at what he'd done. Backing away from the battered body, eyes wide, disbelieving, he'd staggered blindly from the building, passing Kyuri on the way, not hearing her startled query as she scented Hijau's blood and raced in his direction.
Zorun had somehow found his way to his quarters and had been sitting here ever since, sunk in misery.
How could he have done such a thing? To a fellow guardsman? To the son of the senior Council member? To Radittsu's second in command? The youngster was nowhere near as strong as he was, nowhere near as experienced. How could he have behaved so dishonourably?
It wasn't as though it had had any noticeable effect - as he'd rammed home he'd had a sudden vision of soft white hair superimposed over Hijau's red-gold mane, and even now he could still see the Hassinan in his mind, almost smell her, even in his misery.
He looked up dully, not even bothering to try to stand, as the towering storm with the huge mane kicked his door off its runners, dragged him to his feet and punched him through the inner wall...
"Why?"
Radittsu had pinned Zorun to the wall. The guard coughed up blood and tried to focus on the captain's face. It was difficult: he'd let Radittsu pound him, not even trying to resist. After all, he deserved this. Though he admitted to himself that even if he'd tried to fight back rage had made the captain so strong he'd have beaten Zorun easily.
"I... don't know..."
The captain wrenched his body higher up the wall.
"What do you mean, you don't know? You assault and rape my second, a member of my family, and you don't know why?"
Zorun tried to draw breath. Not a lot of use apologising right now: Radittsu was too angry to hear him. And he really couldn't explain why he'd acted so.
Radittsu dropped him abruptly, smiling coldly as Zorun's battered body landed painfully on the floor.
"I will not report this to the king - not yet anyway. I want you, in my office, tomorrow morning with a full explanation. I will let you know at that time whether I intend taking the matter further. In the meantime, you are confined to quarters. I understand his Majesty has given you leave for a few days, which at least saves me the trouble of advising him his personal guard has taken leave of his senses and is no longer to be trusted." He glowered. "Your explanation had better be a fucking good one."
Without waiting for a response he turned and stalked out of the room.
Zha'raadiin slitted open one eye and peered as carefully as he could around the sleeping platform. There were dadda and maazi, papa cuddled between them, 'haabron snuggled into dadda's side while Ti'ani and Le'leen sprawled over their papa. Not far away were the little ones, cuddled up to 'Rayne, along with 'tiisaan and 'zhasaan and the Saiyans: 'teetza had had to go back to the king's suite tonight. 'leesaan's arm was draped over his own shoulder, hugging him closely: he twisted carefully, brushing his lips against his sibling's cheek then gently extricating himself. Warily raising his head, he saw that Zh'leet and Gh'veen had retired to their own rooms for the night, satisfied that the family was sleeping contentedly. Carefully suppressing his ki so as not to alert anyone, and sighing - silently - with relief that they were all asleep, 'raadiin slid very cautiously off the bed, noiselessly dragged on a bodysuit and slipped unnoticed onto the balcony, shutting the door carefully behind him.
He paused for a moment, scowling up into the starry sky, eyes half-closed as he focussed, *reaching* for the ki of the person who'd hurt his Hijau.
Zorun was rudely woken by something small and very cold landing heavily on his bruised and aching chest. Half asleep, he struck at it - only to cry out as cold sharp pain sheared through his hand. Gasping, he pulled himself upright, eyes wide as he stared at...
At...
A miniature Zha'haabron? One of the lizard princes, it had to be. Crouching on the bed, waist length emerald hair caught back into a smooth tail by two clasps, soft dark blue leather bodysuit, sweet-scented pale blue skin - and a pair of huge golden eyes, right now flashing with a very real fury. The voice was a low, hissing growl.
"You hurt my ma'issin..."
Zorun blinked. What...?
The little R'ren'nkh'ian glowered, hissing quietly, something very close to hatred in the beautiful face.
"You hurt him. Now I'm going to hurt you."
And with no more warning 'raadiin flung himself forwards and bit deeply into Zorun's shoulder, razor teeth only stopped from meeting by the solidity of the Saiyan's collarbone. Had Zha'raadiin been just a little older Zorun would have been missing a large chunk of his shoulder - bone and all. As it was, he shrieked as the pain hit him, grabbing at 'raadiin's strong, supple little body and yanking it from him, the prince's teeth ripping at his flesh and pulling free in a shower of blood.
Only the sudden, terrifying vision of what the High King would do to him if he hurt one of the lizard brats stopped him from hurling the child against the opposite wall. He held the squirming 'raadiin at arms length, instead, trying to keep his hands away from those astonishingly sharp teeth as he wondered, frantically, what to do...
"Your highness.... Please...."
'raadiin snarled, but stopped writhing.
"What?"
Zorun swallowed hard. What should he say now? He'd never even talked to a Saiyan brat before - how was he supposed to handle an alien one!? He gazed at the angry child, trying to keep his own expression conciliatory.
"Your highness - please may we talk? If I put you down, will you listen? Not attack me again?"
'raadiin pouted.
"Don't see why I shouldn't. You hurt my ma'issin. He's got to stay with Vinas, now, and dadda Zhak's staying there too. We're not all together, an' we should be."
Understanding began to filter through Zorun's brain. Ma'issin must mean Hijau. But that meant... He frowned.
"You're - attached to Hijau?"
'raadiin stared at him blankly.
"He's my ma'issin."
Zorun frowned, then sighed. Well, he could always find out what that meant later. The fact remained that this child - this... beautiful, alien, child - felt strongly enough about the fire-maned Saiyan to sneak out of his warm, safe suite, obviously without any of the family knowing, to find the person who'd hurt his... 'friend' and take revenge.
How perfectly Saiyan!
Zorun stared, shocked and startled by the sudden, unwonted, unwanted, insight. Then he bit his lip, trying to remain impassive, but it didn't work. What started as a chuckle quickly became quiet but rib-aching laughter. The little R'ren'nkh'ian glowered at him, hissing his annoyance, until Zorun's chortles died down. He wiped his eyes, smirking at the prince.
"You ever thought of becoming an educator?"
'raadiin inclined his head.
"Want to be a warrior like papa and dadda Radiz and ma'issin."
Zorun nodded, somewhat resignedly, wondering absently how a brat could get through to him when no-one else could.
He sighed, swiftly reviewing his options. Unless he wanted to turn rogue, he really only had two choices. He could rejoin Nappa's forces. Or he could make up his mind to fit in with Vejiita's plans, learn to love the alien... well, that might be pushing it a bit too far right now, but learning to tolerate them, at least. Find the similarities perhaps, instead of focussing on the differences.
It would take a while. Perhaps a very long while. But - he realised with a strange feeling of something part dread, part anticipation - it would be a challenge. Not the sort of challenge he was used to, of course - but a challenge nonetheless.
And... whispered the traitorous, libidinous part of his brain... there's the Hassinan... Your own personal challenge...
'raadiin was watching him closely, frowning. He stopped smiling and regarded the child sombrely.
"I think I'd better take you home."
"Why?"
"Because Radittsu will be very angry with me if I don't."
'raadiin nodded understandingly.
"Dadda Radiz is very scary when he's angry."
Zorun bit back a smile, then touched the child's shoulder very lightly.
"I'm sorry I hurt your - ma'issin. I wasn't... My mind wasn't working properly. I won't do it again."
'raadiin squinted at him suspiciously.
"Promise?"
Zorun hesitated for a moment. Why the fuck was it so important to be absolutely honest with this brat!? Then he smiled.
"I promise."
"Good." 'raadiin nodded his satisfaction - then suddenly yawned, surprising himself. Zorun forcibly kept his face impassive and inclined his head.
"May I escort you back to your suite, your highness?"
'raadiin gazed at him for a moment - then smiled at him. It was an astonishingly beautiful smile.
"Yes..."
Ti'aasaan had woken with a vague sense of unease, aware of something wrong but unable to pinpoint what it was. Lightly *brushing* against the minds of those in the suite, he froze, his heart hammering, when he found Zha'raadiin missing.
Radittsu and Zha'haabron jerked awake.
**Sweetheart? What is it...?** The king's *voice* tailed off as he realised what had happened. He glanced at Radittsu, eyes wide. The Saiyan was glowering, tail lashing behind him as he *searched* for the little horror...
Then he blanched.
"He's with Zorun..."
But before any of them could do anything, the inner door opened and Zorun limped in, carefully carrying Zha'raadiin curled up in his arms, asleep. Ti'aasaan flew to him, lifting the hostling swiftly but gently out of the Saiyan's grasp and cradling him close, gazing up at the king's guard with fear-filled, questioning eyes. Radittsu moved to stand between Zorun and the family, arms crossed over his chest, glowering.
"Well?"
Zorun saluted him. Then bowed, briefly but respectfully, to Zha'haabron. The bondmates exchanged startled glances. What had brought that about?
"I'm... sorry if you were worried. I brought him back as soon as I could. He came to me." Zorun grimaced as his hand went to his still-bleeding shoulder. "He's not... happy with me."
Zha'haabron stroked 'raadiin's hair, hiding a small proud smile. Fearless little warrior... such loyalty in a child!...
"Because of Hijau." Radittsu nodded, glancing back at the hostling still sleeping in Ti'aasaan's arms. *We will address the question of discipline, tomorrow...* He turned back to Zorun.
"Very well. Under the circumstances, you are excused leaving your quarters despite my orders. I will see you in my office later. You are dismissed."
Zorun saluted and turned to the door, halting and looking back over his shoulder at the sound of Zha'haabron's low voice. The High King was smiling.
"Guardsman - thank you."
The Saiyan turned back and bowed, briefly, before leaving. Surprised at the courtesy, but anything but displeased.
Mahrayne was sitting up when they all returned to the sleeping platform, her eyes wide and fearful, the hostlings still snuggled around her. The half-closed screen had hidden her from the activity in the common room, but she'd woken at the sound of Zorun's voice, her heart in her throat. What was he doing here?!
The Hassinan had only come into occasional contact with the king's guard, mostly on the few official occasions when the heirs' presence was required. She'd been surprised - perhaps shocked would be a better word - by his attitude: he'd treated her with a certain respect. Slightly distant, not particularly warm, but not that hateful contempt he'd shown on their first meeting. And it had allowed her to appreciate him for more than just his arrogance...
He was, she'd decided, really very attractive. Not quite as overwhelming as Radittsu, and lacking the captain's immense heavy mane - but powerful, muscular, solid, his skin a tawny brown in colour, his expression usually wary, observant eyes large above high cheekbones. She sometimes wondered, idly, what it would be like to be held in those strong arms...
But she'd been given an edited version of what had happened to Hijau, and it had frightened her. If Zorun could do that to one of his own kind, what might he do to an alien? But now she listened to what was being said, frowning slightly, revising her opinion somewhat. Violent, but not malicious, then. Not so different to most Saiya-jin, in fact...
As Ti'aasaan slid the bodysuit from his dozing, strong-willed hostling and settled him back down under a light cover, Mahrayne glanced at Radittsu.
"He's not hurt?"
The big Saiyan smiled and shook his head.
"Though whether that's from genuine feeling or fear of what Zha'haabron would do, I'm not sure!"
Mahrayne nodded thoughtfully - then lay back down as Zha'honee stirred, blinking up at her.
"'Rayne?..."
She shushed him, brushing a kiss over his brow and snuggled him closer to her warmth. He sighed and slid back into deeper sleep. Smiling apologetically at the bondmates, she whispered,
"I think that's enough excitement for one night. We'd better be quiet now, before any of them really wake up..."
Radittsu was in his office at first light, Kyuri with him: since she'd been the one to find Hijau and get him to the medical centre he wanted a full report from her before Zorun arrived.
As she finished, he nodded pensively.
"How did Zorun seem to you?"
She frowned, thinking back.
"Well, I didn't pay him that much attention - I was too worried about Hijau - but... He was very pale. He looked - horrified, I suppose. His scent was... strange. Sour, almost sick." She bit her lip, then glanced at the captain. "As though he felt sick at what he'd done?"
"Are you asking me or telling me?"
She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "In my opinion, sir, he was disgusted with himself."
Radittsu frowned.
"I see. Interesting. Very well - thank you, that will be all for now."
Kyuri saluted, then paused.
"Sir, will you let us know the outcome? The Guard are angry. We all like Hijau, as a friend as well as an officer." She smiled as the captain scowled. "No, we're more disciplined than to take matters into our own hands, sir. But we do want to see him punished."
Radittsu smirked.
"You'll be advised." He turned his head as a knock came on the door. "Enter."
It was Zorun, still looking definitely the worse for wear. He saluted then stood at attention before the desk - Kyuri fixed him with a coldly furious glare as she exited the room...
Vinas had ordered Zha'haabron to take things easy, rest, sleep as much as he could for the first twenty days of hosting, on pain of losing these hostlings as well. The inactivity was irksome - but he didn't want to take any risks; this was too important to both himself and Radittsu. Ti'aasaan was doing his best to keep his Ssii'iin occupied - or at least calm. He'd borrowed some of Mahrayne's combs and spent time each day grooming Zha'haabron's hair, something that the king, to his amazement, found he truly enjoyed. Depending on their mood it could be relaxing or stimulating - when relaxing, he drifted off to sleep, the little zn'hre cuddled against him; when stimulating, Ti'aasaan's hands, firm yet gentle at his groin, allowed him to climax without putting any strain on his body.
He was panting lightly, languid with satisfaction, head resting in Ti'aasaan's lap and body still quivering from the little zn'hre's ministrations when Radittsu returned to the suite. He looked - bemused, Ti'aasaan thought as the Saiyan dragged off his armour and boots. The little zn'hre grinned up at him.
"Greetings, my Ssii'iir! How did it go?"
Radittsu sat cross-legged on the sleeping platform, tail wrapping around a strong blue forearm as his fingers absently stroked gently at Zha'haabron's belly, silently delighted at the bright, strong, little kis he could feel there, then leaning down to brush a kiss across his bondmate's lips.
"I'm still trying to work that out..."
Zha'haabron gazed up enquiringly. The Saiyan grinned.
"Well, he's very sorry, to start with. He's not sure quite how it happened, but admits it was all his fault. He also admitted he's very confused at the moment."
Ti'aasaan's eyebrows shot up. A Saiyan, admitting to being confused? What was the world coming to...? Radittsu chuckled.
"Yes, that was my reaction too. As far as I can gather, he's having some sort of emotional crisis - not that he'd call it that. But he's spent all of his life despising aliens, and now he's being forced to accept that they're here to stay. And that he has to interact with them, constantly. Treat them as equals. He's not finding it easy." The big Saiyan sighed. "He needed to... let off some aggression. Seems he was actually looking for me, for a sparring session. Hijau just - got in his way."
Zha'haabron frowned.
"And he told you all this?"
"A lot of it I inferred. I could be wrong, I suppose."
"I doubt it. You have good instincts where others are concerned. What action are you taking?"
"I'm not."
"That won't please the Guard."
"I know. But there's no point in any further physical penalty - the beating I gave him yesterday served that purpose." He inclined his head. "And he feels - guilty. That's not an easy thing for a Saiyan to cope with."
"What does Hijau say?"
"If Zorun will spend some time with the diplomatic corps, meeting and getting to know some of our alien visitors, he's prepared to let the matter drop. I am going to insist Zorun make a full and public apology to Hijau. He won't like it, but it will appease the Guard. A little, anyway."
Ti'aasaan bit his lip.
"And will you make sure he doesn't take over Hijau's position?"
Radittsu blinked, startled.
"What?"
"Zha'haarak says Hijau is concerned that Zorun wants his post."
The captain frowned at the little zn'hre.
"He's never mentioned it to me."
"Nor to me." Zha'haabron pushed himself upright, Radittsu's arm around him pulling him close to his bondmate's warm body. "Are you sure?"
Ti'aasaan nodded.
"He hides it deep down, but Zha'haarak could *see* it in his mind. He knows that Zorun is better qualified."
"More experienced and stronger, maybe, but he has none of the more important qualities I require of my second in command." Radittsu scowled. "Hn. I'd better have a talk with him."
Zha'haabron stroked his arm.
"It would put his mind at rest." He inclined his head pensively. "How long will he be out of commission?"
"Three or four days. He's always healed quickly."
"Bring him back here. He'll be more comfortable - and so will Zha'haarak."
Radittsu grinned.
"Good idea. I'll organise it today." He glanced at his beloved. "When do you see Vinas next?"
"Tomorrow."
"I'll come with you."
Radittsu had given Vejiita the short version of what had happened: the king had not been happy with his personal guard, but had approved the captain's handling of the matter. For the following thirty mornings, Zorun had been seconded to the diplomatic corps - much to Manzano's dismay.
However, while it was obvious he'd never make a diplomat, the warrior managed to avoid causing any diplomatic incidents - had in fact (and to his own surprise) been useful on a couple of occasions involving natives of several worlds he'd visited, and was therefore able to advise about possible problems before they became apparent.
He'd found the schedule punishing, though - corps in the morning and the necessity of changing his entire attitude, then his normal duties in the afternoons. For a few days, until he'd adapted to the pace, he'd slept deeply and dreamlessly, managing to forget about the Hassinan.
It couldn't last, of course. Ten days later he'd joined some of the older Guard members on a trip into the city to eat and drink: the diversion lasted well into the night, and he was a little the worse for wear when he finally made his way back to his quarters...
And she was there again, dancing under the stars.
He knelt in the shadows, watching her graceful naked form, aroused as ever at the sight and scent of her. But...
This time there was something else, something he'd never recognised before. A strange hunger. As Mahrayne began to pleasure herself, his hands went to his groin, slipping inside his uniform, fondling himself - and imagining they were her hands.
He gasped as the very thought made him surge erect, close to coming. Swallowing hard, he eased the pressure of his hands and breathed deeply of the Hassinan's musky sweetness, never taking his eyes off her, unconsciously trying to keep pace with her, wondering what those skin beads would feel like under his fingers...
As Mahrayne came, so did he, teeth gritted to prevent himself crying out - and almost collapsing in shock as a hand gripped his shoulder.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" hissed a familiar voice in his ear. He closed his eyes despairingly.
Leteetza. Oh, just fucking wonderful...
Glancing up, he saw her ready to call out to Mahrayne, and laid his hand over hers, murmuring urgently,
"Don't. Please."
She gaped at him, then smirked unpleasantly.
"Well! There's something I never expected to hear! The great Zorun saying 'please'!" Her eyes hardened. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't call her over here right now."
"Because it would embarrass her?"
Leteetza opened her mouth to respond, then closed it, frowning. She inclined her head.
"You have a point." The King's Companion waited until the Hassinan had pulled on her robe and was out of hearing range, then turned angrily to the guard, crossing her arms.
"Right. I want answers."
He pulled himself upright and gazed down at her. It's possible that if he hadn't been just a little drunk he'd have leered, told her to mind her own fucking business and left. But the night in town, his time with the corps and the beings he'd been meeting, his recent orgasm - and most of all the unfamiliar sensation he felt every time he saw the Hassinan - had gentled him a little.
He smiled, almost sadly.
"It was an accident."
"Oh, sure it was!"
He shook his head.
"I'm being honest. Every time I walk back this way, she's here, dancing."
"Every time? How often has this happened."
"Three times."
"So what's stopped you just taking off and flying back?"
"Because..." He hesitated. Why hadn't he?
Because, he finally admitted to himself, eyes closing in despair, he wanted the alien female.
Leteetza was frowning, aware of the - yearning, she supposed it was - in the big Saiyan's face, in his scent. Zorun and Mahrayne? Ridiculous!
But the big male was speaking again, his deep voice underscored with despondency.
"Do you think she'd talk to me?"
It would have been funny if it hadn't been so weird! Leteetza mentally shook herself and glowered at the guard.
"I doubt it."
"She's frightened of me..."
"What do you think? Since she first met you you've been violent, arrogant and downright fucking offensive. Of course she's frightened of you!"
Zorun turned his head to gaze in the direction the Hassinan had gone, then frowned at the little warrior.
"Forget I said anything."
"Can't do that."
"Then will you not say anything to anyone else?"
Leteetza folded her arms and regarded him narrowly. He swallowed and forced down his pride.
"Please? At least until I've... decided what to do?"
The King's Companion smirked. There was a certain satisfaction in having power over the arrogant, disagreeable male. But Mahrayne was involved in this, and she wouldn't do anything that might hurt or upset her friend and occasional lover.
"Very well. You will tell me what you decide. And in the meantime you will stay away from Mahrayne."
Zorun saluted her, then bowed his head and fled to his quarters...
Mahrayne was settling the children in their places in the classroom - and making sure 'raadiin and Kiraz were separated with Zha'haarak placed between them - when Leteetza caught her arm and tugged gently. The Hassinan looked down at her, a little alarmed at the intensity of her expression.
"Ubi can take over this morning. I want to talk to you."
Mahrayne glanced around the classroom: everyone seemed attentive, even if their two warriors-in-training were less than entirely eager. But working on the assumption that the children would learn better if they had fun things to look forward to, Mahrayne had planned the first lesson of each day to be something serious, followed by something playful. Ubi could quite easily take the first lesson alone - Zha'haarak's presence usually kept 'raadiin in line; no-one ever wanted to upset the gentle zn'hre. Mahrayne allowed Leteetza to lead her out onto one of the balconies.
Once outside, the little warrior leaned on the balcony rail, gazing out over the palace grounds. Mahrayne watched her, curiously: she was obviously trying to work out what to say. The Hassinan touched her shoulder, and the Saiyan jumped.
Mahrayne smiled.
"Why don't you just come straight out and say it?"
Leteetza sighed.
"Because it's not that easy..."
"Try it."
"Right. What do you think of Zorun?"
The question took Mahrayne by surprise. She thought for a moment, considering.
"Well... I didn't like him when I first met him..."
"That was obvious."
"... but..." she frowned. "He's been a lot nicer just recently. Not friendly, exactly, just not so nasty."
Leteetza smirked.
"And you find him attractive."
Mahrayne stared at her.
"How d'you work that out?"
"Your scent."
"Damn..."
"I did tell you you couldn't have secrets here! So, tell me..."
Mahrayne sighed.
"Yes. I do find him attractive. I don't know why - unless it's because he reminds me just a very tiny bit of Radittsu."
Leteetza snorted with laughter, and Mahrayne glared.
"What's so funny?"
"I was just thinking of the first time I met Radittsu. He wasn't so different." She inclined her head, smiling. "So maybe there's hope for Zorun after all..."
"So why did you ask?"
"He's interested in you."
"What!!"
Leteetza grinned.
"I know. Definitely not what anyone could have expected, is it?"
"How do you know?"
"He told me."
Mahrayne stared, then planted her hands on the little warrior's shoulders, expression wry.
"I think you'd better tell me everything..."
"He did that?!"
Leteetza nodded.
"Timed it so he came the same time as you, as well. And aroused...? I'm surprised the whole palace didn't scent him!!"
Mahrayne gazed at the Saiyan, a slow smile dawning across her face, eyes half-closing.
"I see... How do Saiya-jin go about introductions?"
"Introductions?"
"Yes. Um, when male and female want to get together. What sort of arrangements have to be made?"
Leteetza stared blankly, then frowned.
"I don't understand. If a male and female want to get together, they just... get together. And fuck. Unless one of them's claimed by someone else, in which case they don't. Fuck, I mean."
Mahrayne sighed.
"I might have known..." muttering under her breath, "barbaric, just barbaric..."
Leteetza tickled her, smirking.
"Haven't noticed you complaining before!"
"That's because I've never wanted to 'get together' with a male Saiyan before." Apart from Radittsu - and he's out of bounds... she added to herself.
The Saiyan female gaped.
"You serious?"
Mahrayne cupped her face in warm hands and pulled her into a kiss.
"I'm serious."
The little Saiyan frowned.
"Are you sure? You've never had a male before - wouldn't you rather start with someone a little more - gentle?"
Mahrayne laughed.
"A gentle Saiyan? Isn't that some sort of mythical beast?"
"Well, there's always Hijau...."
"And risk having 'raadiin throw the biggest tantrum ever heard on Vejiitasei? I think not."
Leteetza planted her fists on her hips and glared.
"You're mad, you do know that don't you?"
Mahrayne pulled her into a hug, chuckling warmly.
"But you love me anyway..."
The King's Companion extricated herself and sighed.
"Very well. I'll see what I can do..."
"She what?!!"
"I know." Leteetza shrugged, expression wry. Kelapa glowered.
"If she had to fancy someone, why did it have to be him?"
"No taste, I guess. Or maybe she just hasn't met enough males."
"We can soon change that!"
Leteetza chuckled.
"Let's not complicate matters. Zorun's smitten: that gives us a certain advantage."
"Well, yeah, but..."
Kelapa looked unhappy, and Leteetza hugged her.
"Hey, it's all right you know. I've learned a bit about her and her culture. The sexes only come together to breed: the rest of the time they stay with their own sex. And she won't want to give you up in any case, she finds you far too satisfying!"
Kel smirked dryly.
"That's nice to know... Right, so what's the plan?"
The little warrior grinned.
"I thought we'd invite him to dinner..."
Zorun had yet spent another sleepless night, his mind filled with images of the Hassinan, agonising - though he'd never admit it to anyone: it was hard enough admitting it to himself - over how he was going to convince her to give him a chance...
The very idea that he needed to do something so non-Saiyan was almost enough to make him despair: only his recently gained understanding of the mores of other species reassured him that all might not be lost. But what the hell was he supposed to do?!
He'd never conceived of being in this position in his life. It was humiliating. It was embarrassing. It was - alien.
He was still pacing when the knock came at his door.
It was Leteetza. She strode into the room and stood in front of him, scowling, arms crossed. He frowned, and she smirked coldly.
"Dinner, sunsset tonight. Bring her a gift."
His breath catching in his throat, blinking his startlement, he muttered, "What sort of gift?"
Leteetza inclined her head.
"She likes jewellery. And flowers, but not dead ones." The little warrior grinned. "Kelapa will collect you. And you'd better be on your best behaviour!"
He stared after her as she turned on her heel and left his quarters - then shook himself.
Jewellery and flowers?
He bit his lip, frowning, realising he hadn't the first idea about such trivial things. Then his expression lightened. He may not know, but he knew someone who probably did...
"You need to provide yourself with a gift. For a female. Might I enquire as to why?"
Manzano gazed at the warrior, hiding his startled curiosity. Of all the Saiyans he'd ever known, Zorun was the last person he'd ever expect to ask about something so - alien.
The king's guard growled.
"No you may not."
Manzano nodded.
"Very well. I'd say your best option is the alien quarter: there are some fine gem-workers down there."
Zorun's face was blank, and Manzano raised an eyebrow.
"You know where it is, don't you?"
The warrior shook his head. The diplomat sighed and toggled his comm unit.
"Zyelenyi - are you occupied at present?"
"Nothing important, sir."
"Then please report to my office..."
Zorun gazed at the bauble in the palm of his hand, wondering if he'd gone mad...
The visit to the alien quarter had been... an eye-opener. The district teemed with beings of innumerable different species: the sheer number of languages being spoken was bewildering. And the scents! It was enough to make a poor Saiyan positively dizzy. Light and colour, laughter - once he'd overcome his initial reluctance (and the embarrassment occasioned by his need to visit in the first place) he'd found it fascinating. It was a happy place, clean and obviously prosperous, with alien races living side by side in harmony.
He wondered if Mahrayne might be interested in visiting...
Zyelenyi had led him unerringly to a skilled metal and gem worker, who'd bowed respectfully to the big warrior and laid out several cases of jewellery for his inspection. Zorun had gazed at the assortment dazedly, then looked at the Banickian in despair.
"She likes flowers..."
The being's lipless mouth spread wide as two of his hands went to another case behind the counter. He pulled out a small package, opening it almost reverently. Inside was the most exquisite silver-metal flower, its delicate petals edged in tiny shimmering silvery blue gems. There was a short silver neck chain to go with it. Zorun stared at it, then looked helplessly at Zyelenyi.
"Will she like it?"
The young Saiyan with the cheeky grin laughed.
"Oh, I think so..." He turned to the merchant. "We'll take it. Bill the diplomatic corps for now," he glanced at Zorun. "and we'll sort it out later."
And now it was close to sunsset, and Zorun was waiting for Kelapa, a strange, unpleasant feeling coiling in his gut. He was - nervous? Ridiculous, Saiyans didn't get nervous...
The knock on the door startled him. It was Kelapa, glowering hostilely.
"You ready?"
He growled at her. Bad enough he felt like this without having to put up with her condemnation too...
She smirked and ushered him out of his quarters.
They landed on the balcony of a small guest suite, not too far from the R'ren'nkh'ian suite. The balcony doors were open: Zorun's stomach growled quietly as the smell of seared meat drifted out into the evening air and he realised he hadn't eaten all day...
But the need for food was drowned in a different sort of hunger as he stepped into the suite.
She - shimmered. As though she were robed in flowing water. The gown clung to her, outlining every curve: strands of tiny moonstones hung from her ears, and as she lifted a hand in welcome fine silver bracelets chimed softly together.
For several heartbeats he couldn't move, simply stared at her - then he swallowed and paced forwards deliberately, holding out the little case.
"For you."
She smiled a little tremulously as she took the gift. Then her eyes widened enormously as she opened the package and lifted the jewel, lips parting as the flower spun slowly in the light, the tiny gemstones sparkling. Her eyes met Zorun's - he could have sworn they were brighter than normal - and she smiled.
"Thank you. It's beautiful." She hesitated for a second, then undid the chain and held the ends out to him.
"Will you help me put it on?"
Feeling ridiculously pleased with himself, Zorun took the necklace and moved quickly behind her, fumbling with the tiny clasp as she lifted her hair from her neck. His big hands lingered on her shoulders for a moment as he breathed deeply of her sweet musky scent - then, reluctantly, he moved to stand in front of her.
Suddenly at a complete loss as to what to do next.
Leteetza and Kelapa exchanged a grin, and Leteetza coughed lightly.
"If you'd both like to sit, we'll serve for you..."
Zorun couldn't remember what they ate. He was oblivious to the two warriors, as well, his attention fixed on the graceful figure seated opposite him on the soft cushions at the low table. Leteetza had kept the lights lowered, and she and Kelapa had hovered discreetly in the background, replenishing plates and glasses as needed. There'd been little conversation - Zorun hadn't known what to say, never having been in this situation before - but it hadn't mattered. Mahrayne seemed to talk with her eyes, with her body, every movement designed to relax and arouse him at the same time. He found himself looking forward, impatiently, to the end of the meal...
Which finally came. And then he realised they'd been playing by Mahrayne's rules - and he didn't know what was supposed to happen next. He knew she wanted him, he could smell it. But what would she do about it?
For a moment he was tempted to change the rules, grab her, carry her to the bedchamber and spend the night seeing how many times they could make each other come...
But... If she didn't want that, he'd ruin everything they'd built over the last couple of hours. He watched her, indecision - and a measure of fear (what if the Hassinan insisted on more of this... courtship stuff before they allowed themselves to be bedded?) - clear on his face, although he wasn't aware of it.
Mahrayne hid her satisfaction. She had him exactly where she wanted him. Or rather, she would have in a few minutes. She turned to Leteetza.
"Thank you - that was delicious."
The little Saiyan grinned.
"Glad you enjoyed it! Want us to leave?"
Mahrayne glanced at Kelapa. The warrior looked a little - anxious? Mahrayne rose and moved to her, holding her close, lips brushing her ear.
"Don't worry." she whispered almost soundlessly. "He'll never replace you..."
Kelapa hugged her tightly, kissing her cheek.
"All right. But if he hurts you, you scream. We won't be far away."
"Thank you. But I'm sure I'll be just fine..."
As the door closed behind the Saiyan females Mahrayne extended a hand to Zorun. He stood quickly and took the hand - then swept her up into his arms, smirking.
"So, you ready now?"
She laid a hand on his broad chest, eyes wide, voice lowering to a throaty purr.
"Gently, dherrum. Let's... get to know each other a little first, shall we?"
He growled low in his throat.
"And how long will that take?"
She chuckled and trailed slender fingers down his cheek. He shivered.
"Oh, not too long, I wouldn't think..."
He carried her through to the bedroom.
Leteetza had thoughtfully provided a fine soft sleeping fur - not so much for warmth but for the feel of it against the skin. The light was muted, the balcony door open to let the sweet night fragrances perfume the room. Zorun lowered the Hassinan to her feet and stood for a moment or two, drinking in the sight of her, then reached to tug her robe from her body...
She squeaked and grabbed his wrists.
"Not like that - you'll tear it!" She twisted and lifted her hair from her neck. "Undo the tags."
Frowning, he peered at the tiny carved gemstones, fine thread looped around them holding the back of the robe closed, and growled with frustration. These were not designed for big warrior hands... He took a deep breath and very carefully began to push the gems through the loops, sighing with relief as he found it wasn't impossible. As more of Mahrayne's back was revealed he stroked a fingertip down her spine, then, as he reached the last tag, between her shoulderblades, and struck by a sudden inspiration, he slid the robe slowly down her shoulders, kissing the warm fragrant skin underneath.
She gasped and leaned back into him, twisting slightly to speed up the removal of the robe, which slid down to pool around her feet. She turned to Zorun, stepping away from the gown and reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck, smiling up into black eyes wide with lust.
"You're wearing too much."
Not taking his eyes from hers he wrenched off his uniform, then grabbed her to him. She winced.
"Please, not so tight! I'm not as strong as you."
He growled, but eased his grip a little, one hand sliding down to stroke her tail beads and pressing her against his groin...
She swallowed nervously, wondering if she should change her mind, if she actually could at this stage, if Zorun would let her. Were all Saiyans big?
He was breathing fast, hips jerking slightly against her as he cupped her buttocks, lifting and spreading her thighs...
Acting without thinking she grabbed his tail and squeezed as hard as she could.
The reaction was immediate: he dropped her. Then dropped to his knees, face contorted with pain. Biting her lip, she loosed her hold a little: Zorun glared up at her.
"Don't play with me, baita."
She knelt in front of him, touching his face, sighing as he flinched away.
"I'm sorry. I'm not teasing, it's just... I've never had a male before. You need to be gentle or you'll hurt me."
"I may do that anyway when I get my tail loose."
Holding her breath, she began to caress the deep soft fur of his tail, gradually lessening her grip as his face softened, his eyes slowly closing as his body relaxed.
"I really am sorry." she whispered. "Perhaps I can make it up to you?"
He groaned as she ran her nails against the lie of the fur. She smiled.
"Shall we move to the bed?"
She had him lie on his stomach to start with as she straddled his waist, one hand still holding his tail lightly but securely, fingers kneading gently. With the other she began to explore him, fingers moulding and caressing solid muscle, trailing over his ribs, his spine, learning the texture of his bronzed skin, where it was most sensitive, where thin silver scars evinced past wounds. Fascinated by the large, powerful body beneath her she didn't even notice when he pulled his tail from her fingers and began to brush lightly over her tail beads, leaving her other hand free to stroke the taut skin over his hips. She leaned forwards to kiss his shoulders, chuckling silently as each touch made him shiver.
Then he rolled over, pinning her underneath him. Suddenly terrified, she grabbed for his tail - only to find it well out of her reach. He lifted himself onto his elbows, smirking evilly down at her.
"My turn, hanabira..."
He wouldn't have been Saiyan had he not gained a certain satisfaction from the fear tingeing her scent at that moment - but he'd already realised that this experience would be much more enjoyable if it was shared. Not that it would do any harm to remind her of how powerful he was...
He lowered his head, capturing her mouth in a deep, slow kiss, one hand stroking up her thigh, fingertips lingering over the beads there - then travelling up her body, brushing up the outside of one breast then following the course of the beads. Teasingly. Avoiding the nipple. She whimpered and arched up to him, and he chuckled low in his throat.
"What do you want?"
She gazed up at him, lips parted, and he kissed her again, tongue sliding in to touch her own. She sighed into his mouth: he tasted of hot sweet blood, heady and tantalising...
His lips moved to her throat, sucking and nipping and at one point drawing blood: she knew she'd have bruises tomorrow but right now didn't give a damn. He shifted slightly, sliding downwards, then licked firmly across her body, following the line of the beads - and taking her nipple into his mouth.
She moaned, eyes closing, hands clutching at his hair as he suckled, tongue flicking across the tip, teeth pressing into her breast. It was - different to a female's touch, harder, deeper, rougher... breathtaking...
Large roughened fingers pinched her other nipple, his other hand sliding down between their bodies to her groin as she spread her thighs wide in welcome. And as large fingers slid between the folds of moist smooth skin she came, gasping, her body arching against his as pleasure pealed through her...
Shuddering, breathless, it was long moments before she was aware of herself again. Zorun had moved to lie beside her, erection pressing into her thigh, head resting on one fist as the other hand stroked her breast, fingers just skimming her nipple. She groaned and shivered, her whole body sensitised, and he smirked.
And moved his hand back down to her groin. She grabbed his wrist - everything was almost painfully sensitive - but he pulled free and began to explore, fingers pulling, teasing, one sliding into her then out again, setting a slow, steady rhythm. Another joined the first, then another, then another... it felt - satisfying. Not painful, exactly, but definitely... She finally settled on full. Very different from either her lovers' fingers or the solid toys she was used to. And Zorun was... rippling his fingers inside her as his mouth lowered to her breast again. Her arousal building, she could feel her legs trembling, knowing he'd want to enter her soon and torn between excited anticipation and outright fear...
He slid his fingers wetly from her and rolled onto his back, pulling her with him. Wrapping his hands over her hips, he raised her slightly, settling her over the head of his erection - then pausing and watching her with narrowed eyes.
"Your pace."
Waiting just long enough for her to take her own weight on her knees and the palms that rested flat on his broad chest, he moved his hands to her rear - and began to caress her tail beads...
Flinging her head back she let herself slide onto him, biting her lip at the unaccustomed sensation of being stretched and filled to the limit and forcing herself down, down, until she could feel his wiry hair tangling with hers, the velvety firmness of his balls intriguing under her buttocks. She paused, making herself relax, gazing down at the powerful male under her.
His eyes were half-closed, mouth tight, and she became aware of the tension in his body, her eyes widening as she realised what was causing it. He badly wanted to take her, to move within her, thrusting as she'd seen Radittsu and Hijau do in the suite. But he'd promised her she could set the pace. And he was keeping his promise.
She sighed and stretched down to kiss him, nibbling at his neck, then pulled herself upright and began to move up and down, back and forth, hips circling as she remembered how Leteetza had ridden her partners. It seemed to be the right thing to do: Zorun closed his eyes with a sigh, his hands on her tail beads fondling convulsively as his tail came around to caress her breasts, stroking along the beads there and twitching firmly across her nipples, the thick soft fur a sheer delight against her sensitive skin.
She took her time, varying her speed and movements, seeing what pleased her - and him - as she rode, eventually reaching one hand behind her to knead gently at his balls: that was very nearly her undoing as he thrust upwards instinctively. She yanked her hand away and kissed an apology along his collarbone.
"I don't know how much longer..." he muttered through gritted teeth, eyes narrowed, sweat-streaked body shaking. But truth to tell she was beginning to feel uncomfortable now, beginning to ache a little. She smiled down at him, tenderly.
"Will you... take over, to finish?"
He sighed, moved his hands to her hips, and began to pump into her, hard, holding her firmly. She bit her lip to stop herself crying out - this hurt! - but he was quick: one last upward thrust that seemed to fill her to her throat and she felt him pulsing within her, shaft quivering, his body rigid as he emptied himself into her.
Gasping, he slowly relaxed, pulling her down to lie against him, still within her but no longer stretching her. She wriggled slightly, intrigued by the softness as he slid from her - and the sticky wetness that trickled from her immediately afterwards, tickling her labia and thighs. She sighed and nestled closer, enjoying the solid warmth of him, slowly realising, with elation, that she'd just made love with a male...
He was stroking her hair, fingers undoing the metal bands and dropping them to the floor then combing through the soft white mass. Fingers under her chin, he raised her face to his, voice a soft, contented growl.
"Next time, leave your hair loose."
She chuckled.
"Yes sir."
He stretched and smirked.
"A properly respectful female. That's what I like to see..."
She pushed herself upright, hand reaching for the tail that was lazily stroking patterns along her back.
"You'd better be joking..."
He smiled up at her, one hand languidly stroking at the beads on her breast, the other probing between her thighs, and she forgot all about his tail for a few minutes...
Collapsing forwards onto his chest, she realised he was hard again, erection pressing between her buttocks. She swallowed anxiously and shifted forwards slightly, hoping he wasn't expecting to try that entrance. He touched her face.
"Are you sore?"
She wriggled her hips, wincing slightly.
"A little."
"Too sore?"
Gazing down at him, seeing his face somehow soft, his expression somehow tender, she felt herself melt.
"I think I could cope..."
He smiled and slid carefully into her again...
It was full daylight when she awoke. An incredible aching soreness between her legs and deep into her, nipples painfully swollen and sensitive, entire body feeling like a limp rag...
... and blissfully happy as she nestled next to her Saiyan, cradled in his arms. She smiled up at his face, so amazingly innocent in sleep, and kissed his chest, grinning to herself as she felt him stir, his erection growing between them, pressing against her belly. Could she?
Of course she could...
He started awake as she slid onto him, wincing but gritting her teeth and forcing herself all the way down. He groaned and gripped her hips, thrusting hard and fast and coming quickly, quivering as he pulled her down and held her close, kissing her, murmuring,
"You'll do."
Her eyes widened indignantly and she pulled herself up to glare at him.
"I'll do? Is that the best you can come up with?"
He smirked.
"You want romance, you'll have to look elsewhere. But I'd rather you didn't."
And she realised she didn't want to. Who needed romance when you had a big, scary... gorgeous... powerful... considerate... Saiyan of your own...?
© 2002 March 9th Joules Taylor
Ama - 'bitch'.
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Uchujin no aijin - 'lover of aliens'
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Kusoyaro - 'bastard'
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Dherrum - Hassinan: 'treasure'
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Hanabira - 'petal'
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