"That which Cannot..."
Her hand lifted to his own face; with the touch of her skin on his, the navy blue tunic-robe he wore flared and sizzled, burning in heatless consumption as his robe devoured itself from shoulders to ankles.
"And that which Can Be..."
"Touched if by Thou," Daemon offered, caressing her cheek with his palm.
"And Made if by Thee," she smiled, returning the caress.
"The One Chooses the Other."
"And the Other Chooses the One."
Together they recited as his own outfit of a black dragon formed from jet and black pearls came into view,
"What cannot be Touched or be Made—
Can always be Done or Undone!"
Fire seared outward from both of them, spiraling across the floor. The polished parquetry of the inlaid wooden floor changed abruptly from the diamonds-and-stars pattern. That pattern was still there, but now it had been inlaid with an ebony and pearlwood image of the Imperial Ouroboros, centered around the pair. When the light faded, Daemon spoke, recapturing the attention of those who had looked down. His own attention was still fastened on Sunny, but then he didn't really want to look anyplace else.
"She is the Living Light of Astorra, in my eyes. Before her, there were only the shadows of loneliness and the darkness of solitude, in my heart. Within her presence, I am drawn into the sun, for she lights my way. I love Sundrea Dannonee, and I give myself to her, and only her, as husband and lover."
"Natura made male and female, woman and man, to share pleasure and procreate; this is the natural way. She gave us the gift of love," Sunny returned, holding his gaze, "and the urge for monogamy, so that we might raise our families in a stable and nurturing way. This man is Daemon Astorre, Bane of War, Emperor of a Thousand Stars, the Black Dragon of the Pax Imperium; I love him as he loves me, and I choose him as my monogamous mate."
"Witnessed!" Armon's voice joyfully shouted, startling everyone but the pair at the center of the vast room.
"...Shall we dance, wife?" Daemon offered, trailing his fingers down her cheek.
"Gladly, husband," Sunny agreed. It wasn't quite the full marriage ceremony, for either culture...but if the Emperor and Empress declared themselves married before a host of stunned witnesses, who was going to object?
The musicians in the performance balcony hastily picked up their instruments as Sunny and Daemon clasped hands. The music wasn't sultry, but it did start out slow as they circled their clasped hands. A sharp twist to turn them around, and they clasped their other hands, circling the other way. Taking both of her hands, Daemon slotted his body alongside hers, backing her up the requisite number of paces; another crisp moved placed her on his other side, and she backed him up this time. Chest to chest as the tune picked up its pace, they danced in swirling circles, thighs brushing, jewels rubbing and clattering.
Daemon wrinkled his nose.
These so-called clothes are uncomfortable, body-to-body. I know they look spectacular, but I'm ready for a change of wardrobe.
Me, too. May I suggest transforming them into silk, or perhaps leather...?
Sunny offered, tilting her head slightly.
What, and have you look like that pirate-slut, Shirra?
he quipped back, arching a brow.
How about velvet instead? It's a very sensual material. Velvet with embroidery, to maintain the definition of the dragon-motif.
Why Daemon,
she batted hr eyelashes at him,
you're turning out to be almost as sartorially adept as Armon!
I'll get you for that,
Daemon muttered, spinning her around and bringing her back into his arms. But in the spin, a silvery-white mist wrapped around her body, obscuring her curves. She spun him out in the pattern of the dance, and a midnight mist swirled up, obscuring his own figure.
Sunny arched a brow at him.
What's the mist for?
To comply with Craidan marriage requirements, without offending our prudish Zagrosian guest too much.
Her eyes widened.
Right here? Right now?
He smirked, taking her into his arms as the two colors of mists entwined around them.
Right now, right here, wife. First, we get rid of these jewels...
The links broke apart, flinging out into their audience as he mated his mouth to hers. They peeled away from her shoulders, zoomed away from his chest, allowing her breasts to rub against his torso, freckles to freckles, tanned skin to light. The diamonds and pearls vanished alongside the polished opals and faceted jet, startling the watching guests when each gem stopped in front of someone, turning itself into a gift. Inside the mist, which now cloaked their bodies from floor to shoulders, Daemon's hands swept down her bared body, cupping her buttocks.
She didn't need to worry if either of them was ready. Just the feel of his rampant shaft pressing against her hip was enough to make Sunny wet. Lifting one leg, she hooked it around his hip, letting him lift her a little bit higher with his hands. A questing probe of that hot, velvety-hard tip, and he found his way inside. It wasn't a sudden thrust, either; no, Daemon took his sweet time in joining himself to her. Once he was seated, though, he urged her other leg up, and resumed the steps of the dance as she clung to him, riding him with each flex of his hips and sway of his frame.
It was a mixture of Astorran and Craidan traditions, wrapped in a sultry black-and-white haze. It didn't matter that they were copulating in the middle of an audience of hundreds, including a petulant pirate-princess and a furious foreign queen. Only a few people realized what they were doing, if the dozen or so flushed faces in the crowd were a reliable gauge, and most of those were the sort of onlooker who would've been educated enough to know or guess what the Craidan lifemate ritual required. Exhibitionistic or not, it was natural to claim one's mate in this way, for all to see.
Still kissing her, Daemon flared his power through Sunny, ridding her body of the contraceptives that had been injected into her blood. Conception could occur at her whim, now, but he wanted her free of the last dregs of her former life as his concubine, and that included the last of the drugs in her system. She kissed him back, sensing his sub-thoughts, and whispered into his mind one of her own.
Yes...give me your seed...plow my field and plant our child within me!
Caught off-guard by the strength of her need, Daemon bucked into her. Sunny clung harder as her own climax shuddered through her limbs. Ecstasy seared his nerves at the pulsing tightness enclosing his flesh. Scrotum tightening, Daemon sucked on her tongue as he poured himself into her; it was the only way he could keep himself from making a sound, and the best way to muffle her own moan of pleasure. Reluctantly, he resumed dancing as their racing hearts slowed. One of her legs lowered, trembling, then the other as he slipped out of her, still somewhat hard but knowing they had to behave themselves until the Ball was over.
It was time to end their kiss. Re-gathering her pleasure-scattered wits, Sunny focused her mind on dressing him in a black velvet version of his prior clothes, and felt him wrapping her in matching white. The mist itself seemed to help, shrinking and thickening, coalescing into their new garments. Finishing the moves of the dance, Daemon caressed Sunny's cheek, brushed a kiss against her lips, and left her to pick out the foremost male in the room, the dumbfounded ambassador of the Pax Imperium. It was time for him to deal with Queen Astrida.
Her brown eyes widened with fear as he approached. Even a Rimworld queen knew that the Emperor could read minds...and thereby uncover any crimes against the Empire. But she didn't have anywhere to run, and the thought of that made Daemon smile. Well, that and what he had planned for her. Stopping in front of her, Daemon held his smile.
