The Diamond Queen

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
Dragons are not to be trusted

Submitted: July 05, 2017

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Submitted: July 05, 2017

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CHOOSING THE QUEEN

 

When the Diamond Throne stands empty, there is danger to the land 

 

They were choosing a new Diamond Queen, and Guinevere was invited to the Diamond Castle for the great occasion. She hummed happily to herself as she sat on a boulder in the flower-bedecked meadow awaiting her ride. When it came, it was a blue dragon she knew quite well from the Master dragon's visits to her friend Tia. She bowed and the dragon laughed.

"Climb aboard beautiful one," he said in light contralto tones. "I am pledged to have you at the castle as quickly as is commensurate with keeping you safe."

Guinevere climbed carefully into the space between his wings and grasped the leather handles with care.  

 

With a push of his mighty hindquarters the dragon lifted into the air. His passenger felt the wind through her hair and the hot dragonish muscle bunching and releasing between her thighs. It was both frightening and exciting, and Guinevere thought she never wanted the journey to end. All too soon they were spiralling downwards to a green, mossy area right at the top of a grey granite tower. 

 

She climbed down and the dragon looked at her hectic cheeks and sparkling eyes in some amusement. She felt dragonish laughter inside her head.

"It's a pity that I am neither full male nor shifter," he said, "because I do believe I could throw you to the ground and take you right now."

Guinevere gave a small secret smile but didn't reply.

 

At that moment, a flustered chamberlain appeared through a door in the hugely buttressed wall.

"My lady, my lady. Apologies that there was nobody here to greet you. The dragon lady awaits your coming."

Guinevere dimpled, and dropped the dragon a neat curtesy.

"My thanks for a safe ride, sir dragon," she said demurely.

 

The dragon's delighted laughter filled her head as she followed the fussy functionary down the steep spiral staircase to a noble chamber, where Tia sat in a broad window seat. She dismissed the chamberlain with a flick of her fingers before pulling Guinevere into a hard hug.

"Oh, Gwen, I have missed you. Have you missed me?"

"I have. The sanctuary no longer feels like home. I think I shall not return."

"Indeed you need not. But now. A bath. Quickly. There is to be wrestling in one hour. We would not like to miss that, would we?"

 

Guinevere allowed herself to be hustled into an adjoining bath chamber where a huge tub of steaming water awaited. There was also a bevy of serving maids, who stripped her and bundled her wealth of earth-brown hair into a net before helping her into the water and effacing themselves. Tia and she looked at each other through the steam. It was the first time Guinevere had seen her friend since Tia had fully embraced her dragon, and she could detect subtle changes. Tia's peat brown eyes, which had always been so cool and limpid, now seemed to have drifting multi-faceted jewels in their depths, and there was a new remoteness in their gaze that saddened Guinevere almost beyond speech.

 

She dredged up her voice.

"Your dragon is much closer to the surface now."

"She is. And she judges people," Tia's voice was sombre. "She often finds them wanting."

"Dies she find me wanting?"

"No. She finds you tempting."

 

And in an instant, Guinevere felt a smooth leg nudge its way between her thighs and a pointed tongue insinuating itself between her lips. Tia's skin shone silvery in the light as she and her dragon moved over and around the young girl who shared her bath. Guinevere moaned and arched her body to met the dragon whose busy fingers found her most secret places. And then she sighed as sharp teeth grazed the side of her neck

"Oh, you taste so sweet," Tia spoke in darkly seductive tones, " how my mate will enjoy you." 

 

Then she pulled away.

"I'm sorry, Gwen. Unfair."

"Even less fair to leave me like this."

"You'll get over it. Dunk your head under the water. I dare not touch you again, you awaken my dragon."

"So it seems " Guinevere said drily as she soaped herself briskly.

 

As Tia was disinclined for further speech they completed their bath in not quite companionable silence. When they climbed out the serving girls appeared and set about wiping them and dressing them both in white silken robes so finely woven that Guinevere thought they would easily pass through the worn hoop of her mother's wedding ring. As the girl brushed out her brown curls Guinevere smiled at her in the greenish depths of the mirror.

"Thank you. That will be all. I will dress the lady Tia's hair."

After a swift look at the dragon, the maids scuttled off like frightened mice.

 

Guinevere picked up a comb and a bunch of pure white ribbons.

"You frighten them."

"Do I?" 

But it was obvious neither Tia nor her dragon really cared.

Guinevere smiled wryly at her friend's reflection.

"You do, my lady. You have certainly embraced your dragon. Now what was that about your mate enjoying me?"

"Oh it's a draconic thing. When we are mating in human form, we sometimes take another female to our bed."

"Oh Tia. That's not a dragon thing, it's a man thing. I went to the sanctuary because my sister's husband was eyeing me up for such a ménage a trois."

Tia looked at her in amazement. Then narrowed her eyes.

"If it isn't uncommon, why did you run away?"

"Because I didn't want to do it. And my sister didn't want me to do it. It's only all right if everyone is in agreement. I didn't fancy him at all." Then, greatly daring: "What about you, my friend. Do you want to do it?"

"Yes. I like it. I get to choose the female and she has to please me before...."

"I get the picture and your hair is done."

"So it is."

Tia got up and pulled Guinevere into her arms.

"If you ever want to," she whispered wickedly.

Guinevere batted her away.

"Don't you dare. You've already stirred me up once and backed away. And now we have to go watch naked men. Not a good time to be in a state of arousal. And did you know you smell of dragon these days? All hot and spicy. And sexy. So keep your distance."

Tia laughed and for the first time since her arrival Guinevere felt a genuine connection between herself and the woman who had been her friend for so long. 

"That's better," she said.

Tia didn't pretend to misunderstand.

"It is indeed. Now. Naked men."

 

They didn't have far to go, merely crossing the living chamber to a set of double doors that opened onto a sunny balcony with an excellent view of the paliastra. There was wine on a side table and Tia poured them a cup each before they settled side by side on a cushioned bench. 

 

Guinevere looked down to where upwards of a dozen oiled and almost naked athletes grappled and groaned on the raked sand. All were superb physical specimens, but two stood out as the most skilled and ruthless wrestlers. One was the master dragon A'a'shanto, Tia's mate, whose black skin and snowy white hair made him easily recognisable. The other was golden skinned, with a club of night dark hair bound neatly at the nape of his neck.

His shining muscularity seemed to her to be the result of hard labour rather than hours in a gymnasium in front of a mirror, so she looked more carefully to see a thin scar running from just below his left nipple to just above his loincloth. Her eyes dwelt on the line of black hair running from just beneath his navel. Oh yes he was mighty fine. She leaned back against Tia in an attempt at nonchalance.

"You promised me naked men."

"Too many virgins about."

Tia put a small, hot hand between Guinevere's shoulder blades and gently rubbed the smooth skin. 

"So. Tell me my friend. Who has got your little heart going pitty-pat?"

"It isn't my heart. It's lower."

Tia laughed and moved her hand around under Guinevere's armpit to caress one tip-tilted breast. As her friend relaxed against her she laughed low in her throat. 

"You know most of them are pederasts."

"Not all. I hope."

"No. Not all. So which?"

Guinevere pointed and heard a draconic chuckle inside her head that she might have interpreted as satisfaction if she hadn't been so pixilated by her own burgeoning sexuality.

"Will I have A'a'shanto bring him up here after the wrestling is over?"

Guinevere could only nod, then look on bemused as Tia communicated directly mind to mind with her mate as he wrestled some hapless young man to the ground. 

 

After a time there were only two figures standing. The master dragon and the object of Guinevere's hectic fantasies. They bowed to each other and began to wrestle. It was both brutal and beautiful and Guinevere felt the tightening in her loins grow even more urgent as she watched. She grasped Tia's wandering hand.

"I want that man..." 

Tia grinned evilly.

"You shall have him, little bird. Very soon." 

Guinevere actually licked her lips and Tia laughed out loud.

"What were you hiding under that modest exterior all those years?"

"Hiding? Nothing. I'm just so stirred up...."

Tia moved aside the front of Guinevere's robe and bent to suckle. Guinevere groaned and pulled her friend's hair.

"Stop it Tia. I can't...."

"You can."

 

Down below, the two men drew apart. It appeared that a honourable 

draw had been called. The men saluted each other then turned to climb a set of worn stone steps up to the balcony where the girls sat. 

 

A'a'shanto was first up and he grasped his mate in a boisterous embrace.

"One day I will beat him," he groaned.

"One day." 

The other man strolled onto the balcony laughing. He caught sight of Guinevere and his eyes widened appreciatively.

 

He bent over her hand and she turned it so his lips met her palm. He smiled, and she licked her lips. 

His smile widened.

"Why aren't you in the herd of young women being paraded for my delectation?"

"I was never much of a one for herds. But delectation.... I could be persuaded."

"And what would it take to persuade you?"

"Can you not think of an incentive?"

She splayed a hand on his chest and rubbed her fingertips in the sweat. Then she took her hand away and licked one finger appreciatively. Hector actually growled.

"Who are you?"

"I'm the woman who is considering becoming the third in the master dragon's bed." 

His eyes kindled.

"Now that would be a waste."

"I dare you," she whispered.

 

And that was all it took. He bent over and hauled her onto his shoulder. 

 

Guinevere kept absolutely still as he strode the castle corridors finally arriving at a door that he kicked open with one big bare foot. 

"Impressive,"'she murmured and was rewarded with a snort of laughter.

"I have other impressive tricks," he murmured as he dropped her onto the bed.

 

He knelt beside her and allowed one hand to slip inside her robe. She arched her back so that her breast came to his hand, and he pushed aside the fine silk to allow his teeth to graze her erect nipple.  She drew in a breath and lifted her left hand to his chest.

"Smooth," she murmured, and moved her head to lick where her fingers had touched.

He groaned and looked down at the single exposed breast.

"Are you attached to this robe?"

"Not really."

He put his hands to the neckline and ripped the delicate fabric from neck to hem. When Guinevere was exposed to his eyes he groaned deep in his chest.

"Your skin is like a new-laid brown egg."

"Shut up and touch me."

He took her at her word and tasted every inch of her skin with his lips and tongue. By the time he had satisfied that appetite, she lay face-down in a quivering heap with her body screaming for who knew what. He slipped a questing finger in the tight rosebud of her anus and laughed, not unkindly, as she jumped.

"Never had a cock in there, have you?"

She managed to shake her head.

"That's for another time, then. But now I need to see your face."

He rolled her over and positioned himself between her thighs. 

"Look at me little one."

She opened slumbrous eyes and reached one hand to caress the velvet smooth end of his rather impressive erection.

"Hot," she said. Then. "Please..." 

 

He obliged, sliding slowly into her tight wetness. When he felt the barrier of her hymen, he stopped in evident surprise. He made to move away, but she actually snarled at him.

"If you pull out now I will bite through the veins in your cock and leave you to bleed to death."

He leaned over and possessed himself of her mouth, rocking slowly and delicately as he assessed the state of her arousal. He moved his mouth to her ear.

"Are you sure? This will hurt."

"It will hurt more if you stop."

Holding her eyes with his own he pulled almost out of her then thrust hard, breaking through in one movement.  As soon as he was fully sheathed he used his tongue on the sensitive point beneath her ear and his thumb on the red pearl of her clitoris. She began to move with him and her breath became as chaotic as the flush in her skin. The man felt his own orgasm begin to build, then her vagina spasmed around him. She screamed and that was the final straw as they flew together to a place where pleasure is everything.

 

As they spiralled slowly back to earth, Guinevere looked into his eyes and realised something she had been too overheated to notice before. She had seen those eyes, or at least a pair very like them, so many times in the past; they were peat dark but unusually clear - just like Tia's eyes before she accepted her dragon.

"Oh fuck," she said bitterly.

He gave her a wary look.

"What?"

"I've just realised who you are."

He searched her face for a moment and, seeing she spoke nothing but the truth, he laughed down into her indignant eyes.

"Yes. I'm the Diamond consort. But I think you had better call me Hector. Who are you?"

"The name's Guinevere. Your gods-bedamned daughter calls me Gwen."

"Tia's Gwen? But aren't you dedicated to the goddess?"

"About as much as your Tia. She was keeping away from her mother. I was escaping the attentions of the husband of my sister."

He touched her still irritated face.

"So why are you so cross?"

"Because we have been manipulated by dragons. Or at least I have. I don't know about you, but I'm not in the habit of acting like a wharfside whore."

He thought for a moment.

"I don't suppose you are. And I don't usually carry young women through the castle like they were sacks of grain..."

Then he started to laugh. She glared at him for a moment before finding the humour in their situation for herself. 

 

The laughter cleared the air, which was just as well because they suddenly found themselves surrounded by dragons. Or at least by dragon sendings, the insubstantial heads floating in the air like wraiths.

 

Guinevere sat up and folded her arms across her chest.

"Bugger off you lot."

One by one the dragons winked out of being, until only two remained: the master dragon A'a'shanto and his mate. The female regarded Guinevere with an expression as close to shame as a dragon is capable of.

"I'm sorry Gwen," a soft voice echoed in the vaults of Guinevere's mind.

"Easy to say sorry after you whored me."

A'a'shanto snarled, but Guinevere merely lifted her chin. The two dragons promptly disappeared, leaving a vaguely affronted silence and a spicy smell in their wake. She glared at the place where they had been before turning to look at Hector, who was finding it hard to keep a straight face.

"What?"

"I very much enjoyed seeing my son-in-law being put in his place by a slip of a girl."

 

Guinevere opened her mouth to retort, just as two small messenger dragons oozed almost apologetically into the room.

"Well," she was still tetchy, "what do you two want?"

The braver of the duo ducked his head but spoke out.

"We seek the proof."

"Proof?"

Hector grinned tautly and twitched the wrecked silken robe from beneath Guinevere's bottom. He tossed it to the messenger who bugled his thanks before disappearing.

"You haven't worked it out yet, have you?" he was amused.

"Worked what out?"

"Who you are now."

"Who I am? I'm Guinevere, second daughter of Tarren of the Marches. Who else would I be?"

"You are the Diamond Queen."

"I am so not!"

"You are, my dear. Under the terms of the Choice, when I took your virginity I named you Queen."

"Would you mind if I killed your daughter?"

"Is it so very bad?"

"Of course it is. Apart from any other consideration, when you have leisure to think you are bound to feel I tricked you."

"I won't. You didn't," his voice was flat. "The dragons manipulated us both." Then his face changed and he smiled into her worried eyes. "It isn't all bad, you know."

"Isn't it?"

"No. Not from where I'm standing. You are beautiful. You seem to me to be a principled soul. And you are an exceptional bedmate."

She smiled a little shyly. "And that might be just down to draconic influence."

He slipped his clever hands up and down her spine.

"There's only one way to find out."

 

***

 

In another room at the other end of the castle the master dragon looked at his mate. Her cheeks were flushed, and her whole body seemed to be wracked by painful convulsions.

"The first betrayal is always the hardest," he spoke slowly and clearly, "but the needs of Dragonheart must be served".

 

Quicker than thought she shiftedrazor-sharp talons and wickedly pointed dragonish teeth, and leapt for his unprotected throat. He caught her mid leap and bore her to the ground where they struggled for dominance panting and swearing at each other as they tore and bit and scratched. 

 

But then the texture of their breathing changed as the master dragon roughly pushed his mate's skirts aside. 

 

Their mating was as fierce as their fight had been, and when they lay spent in a heap A'a'shanto smiled his fierce dragon smile

"T'i'asharath," he groaned from deep within his draconic soul. "T'i'asharath, my mate, and the other half of my being."

The female dragon laid her face against his chest and he felt the dampness of tears. He said nothing and when she lifted her head her eyes were like deep ice-fed mountain streams.

"Tia is no more," she said stonily, "there is only T'i'asharath now. I hope it will have been worth it."

A'a'shanto gathered her into his arms.

"It will, my heart. I know the change is hurtful, but you will soon forget the pain."

 

*** 

 

 

It was some three nights later as one day became another that a host of nobles gathered to witness the Dragon Queen take her throne.

 

She came among them quietly, dressed in shimmering draperies and with the Diamond Tiara shining on her brow. 

 

As the queen and her consort took their places on the Diamond Throne a single trumpet blew one shattering blast. The assembled company fell to its knees, each one touching his or her forehead to the ground in the age-old gesture of submission.

 

T'i'asharath lifted her head and found herself looking directly into the coolly regal eyes of her sovereign. The queen looked at her impassively for a moment, before dimpling and dropping her the ghost of a wink...


© Copyright 2017 Jane Jago. All rights reserved.

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