Greeters Friends and Lovers!

Welcome to... hm... a little fun side project/reward/indulgence!

Betwixt the Dreamers and Weavers, some little stories just... don't appear amidst the chapters.

Tales of fleeting passions and carefully built love that we'd adore to write but just... needed to focus on other things! But so much wumberful moments happen between time-skips and chapter jumps that we'd love to explore and use as a chance to tie our beloved characters together. Sing their little love songs as it were!

So here a place for that! There will not really be a schedule for this. No established date of release and posting. Just a fractal of silly gerls writing out the nonsense as we feel the itch! In them will be found lore, character developments/reveals, action, and... of course, SMUT! How much of each will vary, and we'll make sure to include Content Warnings at the top of each for things and such.

Who knows! Right now we're considering all the suggestions and opinions on which characters to include, but we might even subject ourselves to a poll/voting if we're torn on where to go next! But for now it'll all be BEG surprise as we drop these like some deranged gremlin appearing on the fourth Wednesday of the month to bonk our beloved readers on the head with smut!

But for now, here is the first wiggle into this sphere! Hope you all enjoy this little tale of two girls having a VERY calm discussion about things and such!

Part One - Lyttoral Pinning Arts

CW:

Wraslin’. Good old flashbacks. Implications of suicide ideation in the past. Burnt food. Zigdara POV followed by Emarial POV. Smut.

Two days outside Deledita (Between chapters 25 and 26 or so of SST):

It’s impossible to tell who moves first, the sudden and shocking force of action too tempting and perfect a thing to allow the other to claim. We impact like disparate waves between the seas. Each driven by sheer cut forces of will behind every action.

Emarial, in a sort of stoic resolution that I was wrong. That we were wasting our time, and even if Inamatorii turned out to not only possess the book but know what happened, we’d only be pointed in our current direction, only missing the time it took to make her reveal all.

Me, a duenna of Lyttoral… in rage that she would challenge and stop me from acting in search of one of the most treasured souls in the land. That she would question my memory and side with a girl I suspected of taking part in this heinous crime!

And so we clash. Eventually our mutual annoyance and distrust building enough for me to demand this. A contest done in the style of the duenna of Lyttoral. Letting two spirits collide in a way that ensures both remain healthy and safe, but… might help cool hearts enough for them to reconcile and speak later with newfound trust and respect.

Her, a solid blaze of biting flame. Ever steady in her place in the clearing we’ve chosen, but snapping out to twist and wrap brick-solid arms and hands around her foe.

Me, a writhing snake of endless flexibility. Thrice I press her reflexes, gets very nearly bound in the large Sun Spoken’s grip, and slip free with a twisting that would snap another’s joints.

The rules are simple. “Lyttoral Duenna style. Submission focused. No flesh tearing or bone breaking. Nothing beyond simple bruises.” I had told her.

A test of patience and experience more than reflex. A dance of pure stamina and control. Raw strength will be in my favor, but… using too much could violate the other terms.

“I am both your elder and bigger than you but… Will accept this if you feel it will be fair.” She had nodded in that infuriatingly calm and fairly condescending way.

I couldn’t help but snort at her assumptions. “My master was half my size and could have me beaten in three motions on my worst days.”

A pause, then she’d allowed a small smile to crack her stoic expression. “And on your good days?”

I gave her a smirk more wicked than anything I’d give to anyone but my closest opponents. “Come and find out, Sun Spoken.”

She does smile fully then before shifting her posture. Matches my squatting form that means to balance a tense readiness to pounce with a patient ability to react.

But now I wrap legs around Emarial’s head while all my upper body devotes itself to pinning an arm. She tries to pull free, confident in her strength but… finds my leverage too great. Now she moves to slip that other arm beneath a knee to find room to pull free.

“Submit.” I growl through a grin. My lock is perfect. She’ll need the strength of ten to crack it.

And… while I’m certain she has Sun Spoken magic at her beck and call, she won’t use it. Not in this honest contest of physical abilities…

She relaxes and tip taps my leg. Ceding me the victory.

Immediately I release her and twist free to squat next to her as the big woman slumps back. Both of us breathing heavily and hard in tune with each other.

But… it’s not enough. I still feel such a rage at her and want to see her eyes fill with the doubt she inflicted me with. Consider that perhaps she was wrong!

“Again.” I spit and move back to the point we started from.

Emarial quirks an eyebrow. “Our food won’t survive if we–”

“Let it burn.” I very nearly growl, eyes locking on hers.

My words they… something old and painful seems to flash behind her eyes. But… she only nods and moves back into position.

I can’t help but sigh in sympathy for her.

Over a decade alone in a sort of… self exile, and that came after some great calamity tore the Sun Spoken apart. I was a city duenna then, only just attempting to join the Temple’s guardians. But… I’d heard the whispers.

Great fires raged just outside the city. And many temple duenna were… removed or even imprisoned. They tried to keep the rumors well smothered but… in doing so everyone and their mothers have a dozen versions of the stories. Ranging from the absurd to the terrifying.

Sun Spoken battling each other? Duenna turning from their duties to aid some great and horrid goal? Old magics just barely kept from rolling over quite a few towns and villages? And… And since then we’ve seen no more males born...

I let out a huff, and focus on the opponent in front of me instead of the past I cannot change.

I need to take the measure of this woman’s skills and temperament. Settle my boiling rage and either part ways to find our lost male alone, or build trust with her.

Thrice more we roll and wrestle amongst the grass. Emarial pins me once by sheer strength and chance as she catches my leg and drug me beneath that massive frame, and again in the second round as I let my anger from the loss lead into a foolish attempt at her ankle.

By this third round we’re both panting messes, the smell of our long overcooked meal dancing about us. But despite us being riven with sweat and exhaustion, we flip and tumble through the grass with renewed vigor. Emarial being driven by sheer stubborn pride to never let this duenna get the better of her again, and I with the desire to match her number of victories.

I’ve let my mind calm, settled into a rhythm of patience that my mentor spent years driving into my workings. Smothering my tendency to move on unreliable fury when an opening presents itself.

But… then something flashes in her eyes, and the Sun Spoken seems to pause. Doesn’t react to my drifting motion to one side.

So I pounce.

That pause gives me all the opening needed to twist and move behind her. One big stupid arm twisted and pushed up as my legs lock into place. Then I’m shoving her into the grass face first.

“Submit!” I snarl in victory.

Emarial digs fingers into the green and bucks. Arm must be screaming in pain as she tries to turn that raw strength against my entire body.

“If you keep trying that.” I grunt, gripping tighter. “You will break your own arm against me, and it will be your loss.”

She pauses, but remains tense. Considering through the sharp ache this hold must plague her with how best to pull free.

But… there is none. That’s the point. Lyttoral Pinning Ways have countless centuries of techniques perfected for this very thing. The defeat of a foe larger than the woman performing the art.

Even Sun Spoken magic would struggle to pull free before this limb would snap I suspect…

So it’s with a great and heavy sigh, she relaxes and tip taps the ground in an obvious show of defeat. I release the arm but… pause as I gaze down at her.

In the pale starlight her body is a thing of such… perfection. What many see as an ideal frame of stoic strength and grace. Rolling and winding vine like tattoos weaving over what must be nearly seven feet of stone cut muscle and skin kissed well by the sun. And… and I bested her!

The elation of that is intoxicating. A balm of joy that I’ve not allowed myself to feel since… since I returned from my first failed search. An affirmation in results that shows my most trained abilities were never lacking. That if the cowards who stole Hitorra and ---- had found themselves against me I would have bested them and saved our temple child.

Sun Spoken or not!!!

A smirk, then I’m settling down to straddle her hips as my rage at her turns. Making sure with my posture and eyes my next words imply exactly my meaning. “Have the energy for another go, Sun Spoken? We sit tied at two victories each.”

She takes such a few deep breaths as my offer rolls through her. How long has it been since she shared a dance with another, much less one that tested her abilities in an honest contest and matched her motion for motion?

But… despite her obvious desire sparking behind those golden-amber eyes… she doesn’t reply. Only looks past me as our heartbeats and breath slows.

I fight down a sigh and instead quirk my head to the side. “You move with patience and consideration, but that leads you to hesitate. Even when you know the full shape of the situation.”

She lets out a deep sigh, and nods. “It’s only… Look, Zigdara. It’s been many years since…”

Trailing off… she's struggling to fight down the… Is that guilt? Not aimed in my direction but at a past thing. Hmm… like she’s worried this might be something she doesn’t deserve? Despite how much she wants and maybe even needs it?

So I lean down, placing hands on either side of her head to get the woman’s undivided attention focused on me and the now. “Are you unaccustomed to another leading the dance and motions? My own size makes finding partners willing and able to take the top a challenge, and that’s within the heart of Lyttoral.”

“No… That’s…” She fights back the small smile I see creeping across her lips. Both at my sudden closeness and a past memory I’m guessing…

She murmurs so soft then. Voice barely a whisper. “Despite everything, I prefer being with a woman comfortable sitting astride me. Able and eager to take charge.”

I smirk and lean closer, even… very slowly and carefully, moving hands to those big elbows. Beginning to trace patterns up and up till fingers just touch her wrist and palms. “Then ask me, Sun Spoken, and I’ll handle the rest.”

Deep breath, and then she nods. Turns back up to meet my gaze. “Alright, Zigdara. I… let’s see how this–”

I cut her off with a sudden and heavy kiss. My hands pinning her wrists to the ground below as my nearly naked frame presses to hers. Slick and still glimmering wet with the sweat from our contest.

But… after a second she stiffens. Not to reject me but… in a pause of surprise and concern. I press harder, squeezes tighter. Then, when she only vaguely relaxes, I pull back a whisper from her lips.

“Do you want me to stop?” I murmur as our gazes meet.

A shake of her head. “No.”

So I nod, slowly lean back down. Focus on drawing her into a slow and sensuous dance of our lips. Every now and again squeezing or letting my form drift our bare chests to graze close before pulling back. She relaxes a bit then, trusts herself to follow my lead and starts to enjoy the dance.

This isn’t fear, more… desire tinted with it. Not of the act but… oh. Huh. She’s reminding me of Yetra and Jumvary. How they were convinced from their time as duenna to the mines and fields that intimacy between guardians was somehow forbidden. She may feel that this is somehow taboo or… maybe… at least something else equally as foolish.

Us becoming close is the perfect way to ensure our shared goal is met, and an excellent way to relieve all the stress of the task. The road we plan to walk can be quite the lonely one…

I adjust, moving both her wrists to become bound by a single hand. Dragging my own kiss over and across Emarial’s jawline as the other hand’s fingers rake down her side, tracing the solid muscles that must ache and definitely burn beneath still slickened flesh.

She can’t help but test my grip and weight while the start of a growl rises up. Not in a real desire for me to stop just… a way to express the deep mess of emotions and hunger. But… My Pinning Arts are solid, even if she wanted to try and pull free I’d have the perfect position to twist her into some hold or grapple that would pin the big Sun Spoken.

So after a few little struggles, she finally relaxes again. Slumping down into the grass with a huff.

Then… on a hunch, I take her ear into my mouth and give it a good soft bite. She jerks a bit, but… the rumble that thrums from beneath me seems quite happy with it.

“This alright?” I purr into her ear. “You seem the type to enjoy a bit of teeth in your lovemaking…”

I barely stop a chuckle as I feel her heart thunder just a bit faster.

“Yeah. That’s… Do as you wish, duenna.”

I do laugh then. Low and soft into her ear before whispering. “I will.”

And I do. Drawing out more rumbles and growls as I nibble and kiss and bite at this big woman’s ear and jaw. Eventually she even starts to struggle a bit. Nothing serious but… enough to really test if my strength is enough to hold her.

I squeeze tighter and shuffle a bit, moving so that what was a light restraint settles even more of my weight against her. Twisting legs to sit in a perfect pose to writhe into at least a dozen better positions if she does manage to jerk free. Then I clamp my teeth down onto her ear again, harder than before. Enough to leave a mark.

Her hips buck, but that doesn’t break my hold even a little. So I begin to rake fingers up and down this perfectly sculpted stomach, easily finding a perfect balance of too hard and not hard enough as I find a breast. Move lips back around to hers, biting her lower as fingers play and pinch at a nipple.

More thrumming growls, and I’m thinking she’s starting to get impatient. Might even really try to break my hold and then we’d fall into a bit of a tumble as she fights to claim the–

A snap of movement, and the big Sun Spoken does just that. In a single elegant motion tears free of my grip and darts fingers out for my hips and face. But… it’s not real instinct that drives her. Just… a big woman’s desire’s bubbling up to try and accelerate the dance.

Fine. We can move quicker!

Of course I easily avoid her, and while it still takes a few rolling tumbles, soon I’m behind her. Arms around her neck and legs about her hips.

Before she’s stopped struggling I’m purring into her ear. “Submit.”

A jerk, and we roll a bit more. But… I’m like a turtle’s shell on her back. She can no more remove me than her own spine. Finally she settles in a sitting position on the grass, leaning back into my hold as she slumps in exhaustion.

A tip tap on my arm, a sign that she acknowledges my victory this night.

Basking in such thundering joy, I can’t help but chuckle as I loosen my grip and let arms drift across her. Still very much keeping this big Sun Spoken in my clutches as hands move to breasts and thighs. Teeth moving back to her neck and jaw, nibbling and purring as I hold my prize close.

She’s just… slumping back into me now. Simple low thrumming echoing from her chest as my fingers dance over her. Slowly but deliberately raking faster and harder against flesh and tit, while gradually moving closer and closer to that spot between her legs. Whether from sweat or arousal, the simple shorts she stripped down to for our tumbles are already soaked as I slide hands beneath and start to knead her flesh there. Forgoing all gentle foreplay and teasing for rough and deliberate fury.

Her arms twist back, not in an attempt to take control or reverse positions. But to just… hold on. To return some of the physical sensations by gripping at my waist and hair while much softer sounds begin to escape her lips.

Moans betwixt growls thrum from her as her body shudders and shakes, trembling even as I move teeth and lips back up to the ear. Quickly turn soft nibbling into forceful bites. And so, Pinching and biting and raking and clawing, I drag this Sun Spoken into a climax that sets her hips bucking and back arching.

All while I clutch her close, like some serpent of the sea wrapped tight around her prey.

As she begins to settle, I consider pinning her here and dragging her through another few rounds of this. Really drowning her in my workings until she can barely walk, much less travel the distance we mean to tread within the next few days.

But… No. That could lead to her distancing herself from me in worry that I’ll slow our work. Right now I need to communicate through restraint that she can trust me to moderate my fury and focus on our long-term goals. All while finding comfort in my words and touch at the end of the day.

I move to adjust my grip to simply hold her. Adjust the messy hand to her thigh as the other trails up to play with her short hair. Lips and mouth nuzzle into her neck to kiss softly. Then adjust to let us both just… fall back into the soft grass. Letting the exhaustion take me as I hold my traveling companion close.

* * *

I’m in no danger of falling asleep as Zigdara nuzzles into my back and passes into a deep and seemingly relaxed slumber. Both because the magic I wove burns hot and wretched in my chest, filling me with a waking fury that could stave off rest for… I’m not sure. The longest I let it burn was two years before, and once I’d seen the shoreline fade from the horizon and drown the flame’s magic I passed out for two weeks straight.

And secondly because I’m caught up in the memories.

First… the one that lost me that final match before this duenna pulled me into that tumbling sex.

Dead eyes staring back at me as I bring another drink of cool water to her lips. Her wounds have long since healed, body more perfect than it’s ever been. Heart beats strong and lungs fill with air at every deep breath.

And yet… behind those eyes I see nothing. No trace of the girl I fell in love with.

Just like the cunt in the Dream keeps telling me. Night after night after–

I’ve not shed tears for her since… well… it's been a long time. It’s an old and almost comfortable pain. The memories of some clueless girl just… trying to understand the things that had shattered her little slice of happiness and peace.

But… then of the Sun Spoken in Deledita, and the way her lover and companions kept her so close. That… that haunts me. Not just of how I scared and hurt Inamatorii, but… of how desperately I hope that the blighted Weaver shard she bears settles into a passive and quiet thing. A simple Dream companion who finds delight in the little waking things Her Sun Spoken shares and not–

A smell rips me from the thought. One I should have expected but… had hoped would never fill my nostrils and soulfire again. Sweet, but fowl. Like rotting honey poisoned with acid.

I’m pulling free of the duenna as quietly and softly as possible. But…

“Zigdara.” I murmur as I cast my gaze about the field. Trying to use the starlight as a guide to find the nightmare I smell drawing close.

She stirs only slightly, and I have to shake her a bit to rouse the duenna.

“Remain here,” I pause as her eyes lock on mine. Consider keeping the details to myself and explaining later. But… no. She is trained to think clearly in situations like this. “There is something hunting me just beyond the trees.”

A glint in her eyes, and her gaze shifts to our bags sitting next to the flame. To the two weapons that wait there.

“Physical things won’t stop it. Only Sun Spoken magic.”

Her eyes swivel back to mine, and behind them dance a few eternities of questions. But she only nods and moves to sit up slowly. Adjusts to a better stance to move from. Remains low. And so I rise and move to stand at the edge of the campfire's light. Stoking the flame at my core as I consider the blaze I might call.

It doesn’t take long for the thing to show itself. These things aren’t like… they seem to only just barely even think or plan. Just… hunt and haunt as they bleed into our world. Seeking warmth to devour and women to ravage…

But this one…. Fuck. It’s not as quiet as the others. Starts to make little snickering sobbing sounds as it pulls free of the shadows at the clearing’s edge. Looks like… a tumbling bundle of snakes. Or a bird being strangled by some big sea beast. Flesh a mess of greasy black eck that drips the foul stench.

Deep breath, and I’m calling up my most basic and simple flame. Something that’ll burn hot and hard and twist my gut into a mess at the memory I need to–

After I fell from the tree it must have left me for dead to chase my beloved. Only seemed to pull from her broken body after it saw the flames the woman from the Dream gave me. I only barely survived its second attack on my flesh but… it burned quick enough. Screaming and weeping as my furious strikes melted it to slag.

But… I was too late. My lover was already dead.

And even when I dumped every ounce of soulfire I had into her corpse, pleading and screaming for my love to come back to me… only her body stirred. Eyes glazed and distant. Moving to follow my most basic instructions and nothing more.

Whatever will or spirit she had just… gone. Stolen and torn from her by this monster like–

The nightmare is already dead by the time the memory fades. The little tittering sounds it made long silenced. Trembling I… I drop to sitting. Tempted to muffle the sobs I feel fast approaching with a fist in my own mouth.

“Sun Spoken?” Comes a soft voice from behind me.

Can’t… Can’t let her see me like this. Not now. Not after… after I already…

Little flashes haunt me. Images of my lover’s smile and warmth, how she would tease me as I built our home on that riverbank.

“Stay back duenna!” I very nearly shout, trying to cover the crack in my tone with fury I hope deceives her into thinking the danger has not passed.

A call sounds as the smoke wafts over my back. I turn to find an older woman, wrapped in traveling leathers and a few strange chitinous bits on her arms, standing at the head of the dock my lover and I had found and built our home next to.

The old Sun Spoken was looking at the long rotting pile of black burnt nightmare I slaughtered and left beneath the old tree. Her glimmering green eyes roll to mine, and a smile she had dies on her lips as she sees the raft at my side. My lover wrapped and adorned with flowers, her favorite books and dolls, ready to be sent down the river.

And… the second empty craft beside her.

Waiting for me to join her when I gather the courage.

“Ah, girl…” My future mentor murmurs so soft it's a miracle I caught the words. “She wouldn’t want that.”

“Emarial…” Zigdara murmurs, now sitting in front of me.

I… I’m not sure how long has passed. How long I’ve just… sat staring ahead. Feeling such a bubbling of moisture at my eyes that just… won’t fall.

“I’m alright, duenna.” I croak through a throat that feels as burnt and dry as the embers I leave in my wake.

I can see in her eyes how little she believes me. But… she only holds up a waterskin in offering.

Letting out a deep and weary sigh that seems to… to help dislodge my mind from the spiral, I accept her offer and drink greedily. Empty the thing with the knowledge that the nearby river will refill it easily enough.

“Thank you.” I murmur as I wipe my lips clean of any spillover.

“Of course…” She nods. Eyes filled with… something. Worry? Concern? A sense that her traveling Sun Spoken is just… the last of a wretched brood unable to–

“You should rest, Zigdara.” I sigh and fight to keep any glare I might have aimed down from her. “Just because sleep must elude me doesn’t mean you can travel well without it.”

A pause, then she’s moving, and I’m slumping to consider how to pass the night alo–

But then her arms are around my back, and she’s curling about me.

“What are you…” I murmur, turning to try and face her.

But she winds about me tighter, and pulls me down to lay in the grass like before. “Will this help the night move quicker for you?” She asks as fingers move to my hair. Such gentle motions that help settle my thundering panicked heart and bile-filled mind.

I… consider that and… honestly can only nod and whisper a soft yes at her kindness. And so as I feel the big duenna pass again into a peaceful slumber, I’m gifted the first of many calm nights with her nuzzled close.

A calm but effective companion to help keep the worst memories away over the coming months, save the moments I need them to burn a Nightmare from this Waking World.