dragon au catch-all for nophicascounsel

[personalinterest]

Continued from this thread, just spinning it out into an entire AU now!

Some notes to keep in mind:

• Aymeric drank Vidofnir's blood and is now a member of Hraesvelgr's brood. He spends his time primarily within the confines of Zenith and Asah, though he makes forays to Anyx Trine to visit the dragon colony there. While still considered something of a broodling by his 'sire,' he has every intention of becoming a dedicated guardian of Zenith, just like Vidofnir and Vedrfolnir.
• Has renovated one of the dwellings within Asah for his personal use, which also serves as a secondary residence for Ariane, as well. Is somewhat involved with the local moogles working to restore Zenith to its former glory.
• Due to the nature of the covenant forged between him and Vidofnir, he is incapable of reverting fully to human form (for now). His current form resembles that of a bipedal, gargoyle-esque creature, or perhaps a more draconic version of an Au Ra male. (Art forthcoming.) His entire body is covered in indigo scales, save for his face and ears, and a heart-shaped patch on his chest. Thickness of scales varies depending on placement, but more heavily armored scales are located on back, shoulders, arms, and legs. Smaller, softer scales are in more flexible areas, including his belly. Claws and horns are black, along with his dorsal spines. He is capable of flight but limited to carrying smaller burdens, maximum weight allowance of one (1) adult Elezen.
• He recently gained the ability to shift fully into dragon form, thus increasing his combat capabilities exponentially. Despite the coloration of his scales, he is not ice-aspected. He can breath fire and also has some limited control over Holy spells, similar to other white dragons.
• Is currently in a polyamorous relationship with Ariane and Estinien.
• Is capable of laying eggs and has fathered two broods with Estinien and one with Ariane (technically no genetic material was exchanged, but it counts!).
• Can reproduce asexually like any other dragon through methods similar to real world lizards, most likely parthenogenesis or self-cloning. The process often requires sexual stimulation in order to induce ovulation, though many of the greater wyrms can do so without a partner. Aymeric isn't old enough to do the latter yet.
• More to add as I think of things!

Comments

[nophicascounsel]

That was really something else, the way they both got carried away. The wild high of having a dragon at her mercy, the guilty pang afterwards of seeing the imprint of the rug upon his cheek and realizing how uncharacteristically rough she had been with him... You're okay, right? she'd asked him anxiously as she untied his bonds. That was okay? You took it so well, my treasure. A better consort I couldn't imagine...

Yes, it was a wise choice to save that idol (dildo) for something special. An experience like that should stay fresh! They'll get too used to it if it happens often... Among several other reasons to put that thing away for now. Possibly as many as a dozen reasons.

"You think it's that many?" Ariane peers down at his belly, thinking of the previous brood and how the individual eggs compare to him now, grown huge with her clutch. (Hers!!) In her rough estimation it's... not implausible. Her gaze lifts to meet his, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "I want to be there when he sees them. Not even a dragon, and I gave you more eggs than him!"

She's just about to kiss him again when he groans, and immediately she draws back to give him a little breathing room. Though she keeps her hands upon his belly, she can't feel anything different. Not that that means much— she isn't the one carrying them, after all!

"Is everything all right? Want to go lie down?"

Perhaps he'd be more comfortable in his nest?

[personalinterest]

"It's closer to ten, I'm fairly certain. We dragons have a way of sensing these things, you know?" He offers her a wry grin. That's two more eggs compared to his last clutch. "Just try not to boast about it too much in Estinien's presence. You know how competitive he is, and I would prefer not have to contend with carrying another brood again so soon!"

Though, there's certainly something to be said about the mental image of Ariane and Estinien fighting one another over the right to breed him, a thought which shouldn't even be entertained by the rational, human part of his brain. But the hungry, irrational part of his brain that houses his inner dragon very much likes this idea, and it's become increasingly difficult as of late to shut out those sort of thoughts.

He's going to chalk it up to his inner dragon being extra loud lately due to his brooding instinct taking over. Yeah, that's probably it. Most definitely.

"I... I'm fine," he gasps softly. "The eggs are just shifting a bit, that's all! It happens from time to time, though with increasing frequency when they're ready to be laid..."

Yeah, scratch that, he's definitely not going to last a week before it's time to lay these eggs! Hopefully, there won't be any unforeseen difficulties with giving birth to such a large brood this time. (It's two extra eggs, it can't be that bad, can it?)

He shifts his weight beneath Ariane, glancing longingly at his nest. "I think... that would be for the best." He gives Ariane a meaningful look as he struggles to his feet. "Join me?"

Aymeric settles himself within the overflowing pile of blankets and pillows in the corner, laying himself carefully on his side, wings folded out of the way. He sighs contentedly now that the weight of his belly is no longer pressing down on his spine. He smooths a hand across the rumpled blankets in front of him, making a space for Ariane to tuck herself next to him.

Would that he could simply lay here and sleep, curled protectively around Ariane until he's ready to give birth. He always becomes exceedingly sluggish in the days leading up to giving birth, and he wouldn't be surprised if it happened sooner rather than later.

[nophicascounsel]

Before following, Ariane goes back to the doorway to retrieve her gift. She brings the potted carnation over near the nest, setting it carefully upon a windowsill where its spicy scent might waft down to him. Perhaps it will be a comfort to him in the uncomfortable days that precede laying. It seems she was wiser than she knew when she decided it was time to bring it home!

"Peace, my heart, I have no intention of egging Estinien on," she says, kneeling to kiss him on the forehead before she moves into the space he made for her. (Was that an intentional pun? Only Ariane knows, and she's letting on nothing.) "Knowing him, he would insist upon giving you a dozen next!"

Seriously, you three. Have you never heard of quality over quantity?

She cuddles up against him, her hand once again coming to rest on his round belly. She thought the novelty had worn off after two broods of dragonets and the dud clutches in between, but this one— this time, she just can't seem to keep her hands off of it!

"You know, it's really rather unfair when you think about it. He could at least lay a few blanks once in a while."

Careful what you wish for, Ariane. How much do you want to deal with a cranky, egg-laden former Azure Dragoon?

[personalinterest]

"Egging him on?" Aymeric covers his face with one hand, groaning loudly. "Oh, that was bad, even for you!"

Leave to the bard to inject a bit of clever wordplay into the conversation, even if it's only in the form of a bad pun.

Once Ariane settles against him, he wraps his arms around her, pulling her close. His tail curls around their entwined forms, almost in the manner of a cat readying itself for sleep. His chest vibrates with a low purr as her hand rubs soothing circles against his belly once more. He blinks slowly, the nictitating membranes fluttering against his eyes, a sure sign that he's relaxing beneath her touch.

"Knowing Estinien, he'd be so mortified at the thought of carrying eggs that he'd probably disappear into the wilderness rather than endure us fussing over him." Laughter rumbles deep within his chest. "His pride has ever been his weakness, you know?"

Though, it would be interesting, to say the least, to witness the former Azure Dragoon with his belly as round and pale as the moon, languishing in his nest beneath the strain of carrying so many eggs. Aymeric really shouldn't be lingering on this thought for as long as he has, but now that Ariane has put it there... well.

His eyes slip closed as he presses his forehead against hers. "Maybe it's for the best that only one of us is carrying eggs, at the moment. If we were both brooding at the same time, I imagine it would be difficult for you to rub both our bellies."

Yes, Ariane, keep doing that. He likes it. He likes it very much.

[nophicascounsel]

Ariane snorts. "As though he would let me!"

She wouldn't be wholly surprised were Estinien to respond to belly rubs as the cantankerous stray cat he is: claws out! But that just leaves her hands free for the one who does like them, doesn't it? Ariane continues her slow caresses, gradually moving in an outward spiral to cover as much ground as possible. Idly she wonders if they have any of that auri-made salve left; it would do his scales good where they're stretched to the limits. She would have to get up to get it, though, and she's really quite comfortable, and from the way that catlike purr rumbles through his chest it seems that holding her close is doing him more good than any lotion, potion or cream.

"He wouldn't disappear for long. Between you, me, and a flock of eager broodlings who believe they're playing hide-and-go-seek? Why, our Estinien wouldn't stand a chance." Ariane flashes him a wicked grin. "If all else failed, I could always call upon Tataru."

(Now, Ariane, there's no need to be mean about it.)

She closes her eyes, briefly entertaining the thought of joining forces with Aymeric; not to chase down Estinien, but to get him into his predicament in the first place... not that they should try just now! But if they did, perhaps using the fertility idol (Dragon. Dildo. Just say it, Ariane.) on him for inspiration first... The eggs shift slightly beneath her gentle touch, startling Ariane out of her reverie with a gasp.

"Now you stop that." She scoots down so she can press a kiss to the curve of his belly. "He's just gotten comfortable, and I'll ask you all to let him stay that way a while longer."

[personalinterest]

"He might protest, at first, but once the discomfort truly settles in, I doubt even Estinien would recoil from your touch." He makes a soft noise of contenment in the back of his throat as Ariane continues to caress his belly. "Besides, he trusts you, and for all his grousing he can be a surprisingly good patient when he knows the consequences for resisting will likely only prolong his misery."

For all that he pissed and moaned about staying abed while recovering from Nidhogg's possession, Aymeric knew it was all bluster, for Estinien had yearned to lay down his spear and simply rest after spending every waking hour of his life lost to vengeance and bloodlust. He was prideful, yes, as were many Ishgardian men, but Estinien especially hated to admit any weakness, unless it was around those whom he intimately trusted. And surely Ariane had earned his trust a thousand times over since they traveled together during the Dragonsong War.

At the mention of Tataru, Aymeric can't help but rumble laughter. "I have heard tell that the Scions all collectively demure to Tataru's requests. She is something of a force of nature, is she not?"

Even Estinien had cause to acquiesce to her requests no matter how insufferable, though Aymeric had yet to learn the true reason why he demurred so readily to her. No amount of coaxing or wheedling on his part would loosen Estinien's lips on the matter, and thus it has remained a mystery for the ages!

He moans softly as the eggs shift again beneath Ariane's gentle touch. He's not pained in the least, but it's not quite the pleasurable sort of touch he's seeking, either.

(Though, once the labor well and truly begins, Ariane might be surprised just how painless the whole process really is...)

His ears redden as Ariane's lips press against the swell of his belly, her touch eliciting a curl of heat to flicker within his lower regions. It's not unheard of for pregnant women to become insatiable in their sexual appetites well within the last stages of pregnancy, and this wouldn't be the first instance of Aymeric becoming aroused while his belly was full of eggs.

(Yes, he and Estinien absolutely fucked during that time, much to Aymeric's enjoyment.)

"I... I don't think I'm going to last the week, at this rate..." he says, nervous laughter bubbling up. "I suppose these broodlings are just so eager to see their mother that they can't wait much longer..."

He cups his hand against Ariane's, pressing it more firmly against his belly. "Why don't you sing to them a little, hm? So they can learn the sound of your voice. They're surprisingly aware of their surroundings, even while in the egg."

In fact, broodlings inherited a great deal of knowledge and even shared memories from their brood-mother (or father, as they case may be). It was how they could speak from the moment they were born, and possessed a basic understanding of their history and culture. It was a common practice among dragonkind for everyone to sing the old stories to the younglings, even while they were still in the egg, so that they would already become acquainted with those who would bear the responsibility of raising them into adulthood.

[nophicascounsel]

"Sing to them?" Ariane drums her fingers (lightly!) against his belly, thinking. Of course, she has a sizable repertoire to choose from and therein lies the rub: choosing one! Perhaps the one about the end of the Dragonsong War that had so fascinated the older dragonlings when she'd played it for them? Though that's heavy fare for infants... or...

The answer strikes her, so obvious it could hardly be anything else. Smiling softly, she hums a few bars of an old, familiar melody before lifting her voice in song. The words are older than either of them, drawn from Ariane's earliest memories of childhood: a simple lullaby about a baby bird.

She closes her eyes, and behind them the ghost of Marielle's kindly face gazes down upon her; the echo of her voice sounds in Ariane's ears, subtly rougher and a shade lower than her own. As she sings the final phrase, she can almost feel the phantom brush of lips upon her forehead, as though even now her mother were kissing her goodnight and bidding her go back to sleep...

She wraps her arms about him, pressing her forehead to his stomach, and lies silent. Just for this moment, the swell of emotions within her chest crowds out the possibility of words.

[personalinterest]

The melody may be unfamiliar, but he knows the song for a lullaby even before Ariane begins to sing. How different it was from the songs of his youth—hymns to give praise to the Fury, dirges to honor the fallen, ballads extolling the heroic deeds of dragon slayers who died a glorious death. Even the lullaby his mother used to sing to him in the cradle was not free from the influence of war, though the message was a yearning for days long past when their people once knew peace.

Even so, it had brought him comfort in those days, when he would sit at his mother's knee while she sewed for him coats and smocks to protect him from the harsh winter air. His eyes drift closed as Ariane's voice evokes memories of those bygone days, when Aymeric had been so small and innocent—when he knew nothing of the rumors surrounding his birth nor the struggles that would await him later in life.

He could almost imagine his head laying against his mother's lap, her fingers smoothing down his unruly curls as she stroked his hair...

Many moments pass in silence once Ariane finishes her song. Aymeric cracks one eye open, peering down at Ariane while the tip of his tail lashes gently back and forth.

"That was a beautiful song, Ariane. Did your mother teach it to you?"

sneaks this in while my student naps

[nophicascounsel]

"Mm-hmm." Ariane draws back just enough to look him in the eye. "She had a fair few of them, but that was always my favorite."

She chuckles. "Why, I think I used to get up in the night on purpose, just so she would put me back to bed!"

Ariane gives his belly a last fond pat before scooting back to her former position at his eye level. There's a faraway, nostalgic quality to her smile, the one that so often comes over her when she speaks of her late mother. "I wish you could have met her. She would have liked you, I think."

(Really, who wouldn't?)

"It was just us, you know?" Yawning, she snuggles up closer, tucking her head beneath his chin. "We paid so few visits to the city proper, I hardly knew Grandmama and Grandpapa and Uncle until I was out on my own. I always used to want a big family when I grew up..."

She grins. "And you certainly gave me that, didn't you?"

[personalinterest]

He can easily imagine a young Ariane in her little nightgown peering furtively through an open doorway, hoping to slip unawares into her mother's bed. The thought brings a fond smile to his face.

As Ariane pulls herself back to her former position, Aymeric lays one arm across her waist, nudging her close. Her verdant eyes have that faraway look to them, and he knows that she must be reminiscing about her mother. It was rare for her to speak at length about her late mother, so Aymeric was always attentive on those occasions when she chose to reveal that part of her past.

"Your mother must have been an incredibly strong woman to have raised you all on her own." He gazes at Ariane through half-lidded eyes. "And I know that she would be proud of all that you have accomplished, and not merely as the Warrior of Light. All the lives you've touched in small yet myriad ways, the stories you've shared... I think any parent would be proud to see what a kind-hearted and radiant woman you've grown to become."

A shadow of melancholy passes across his face as he thinks of his own parents, both of whom passed away before he attained the rank of Lord Commander of the Temple Knights. They were already quite old when he was given into their care, but they loved him dearly, which made their short time together all the more precious. Though he learned early in his youth that he was an adopted child, there was never any doubt in his mind that he was wanted, and his only regret was that he was unable to truly care for his parents in their old age.

"So, you were an only child, too?" He shifts slightly as Ariane tucks herself closer to him. "I confess there were times when I felt envious of my peers who had siblings, such as the Fortemps family. I told myself that if I ever became a father that I wanted to have many children, so that none would ever experience the loneliness I felt growing up... Of course, I put that dream aside once I became Lord Commander of the Temple Knights, but that was before I met you, my love."

He kisses the crown of her head, smiling against her hair. "I know it's not exactly what either of us had imagined, but I can say with absolutely certainty that I wouldn't trade my current lot for anything. Whether human or dragon, those children are our future, and I intend to see that each and every one of them is loved and cherished, as they should be."

He hopes one day to introduce the broodlings to the children of the New Nest, that they might learn from one another, thereby strengthening the bonds between man and dragon, thus paving the way for friendly relations in the future.

[nophicascounsel]

"I was. My father— though that seems too strong a word, really— left before I was born, as you recall, and as far back as I can remember Mother never got involved with another man. I don't know if she didn't want to risk it again, if she hadn't gotten over him. Or if it just wasn't as important to her as other things— like me, and her work." She sort of shrugs one shoulder. "I asked plenty of times and never got the same answer twice. I wouldn't really say I was lonely, since we had each other... but it would have been nice to have more children my age around."

She reaches up to brush his bangs off his face. Her expression is soft, the melting tenderness he brings out in her through hardly more than existing in her presence.

"It may be a little late to have this conversation..." Since he's near giving birth to his third round of broodlings, and no longer the right species to get her pregnant even if they tried. "But I'm glad that we're on the same page. Our children will never want for love. Or playmates!"

Just as she says "playmates," there's a knock at the door and a familiar chorus of kupo!s from outside.

"Delivery for Ser Aymeric, kupo!"

Ariane sighs. "Make the door open itself, darling. It's cozy right here."

"Kupo-po? Is anybody home?"

The door does not, in fact, open itself. Reluctantly, Ariane rolls over, taking her time in pushing up to her feet while the moogles outside chatter amongst themselves. When she finally answers the door, a good half dozen of the flying fuzzballs stream in, each carrying a colorful, clearly handmade basket in their tiny paws.

"You, er, seem to have forgotten the delivery part...?" Ariane asks, nonplussed, looking at the empty baskets.

"Oh, no, kupo. These are the delivery!" one of the moogles chirps, setting theirs down next to Aymeric's head.

"One of the men that's working with us at Barr Lehs was talking to Mogton and he said, 'don't put all your eggs in one basket'—"

"And we heard Ser Aymeric had eggs!"

"So we brought him enough baskets for all of them, kupo!"

Woven by moogle paws to moogle scale, each of the baskets might fit a single dragon egg.

[personalinterest]

The sound of unannounced visitors causes Aymeric to surge into an awkward, half-sitting position, not unlike a cat rudely awakened from a comfortable nap. He turns toward the door, pupils thinned to mere slits as his tail lashes with agitation.

It takes a moment for his draconic instincts to settle after having been startled into "fight-or-flight" mode, but as soon as he registers that it's only a bevy of moogles at their door, he visibly relaxes.

"I wasn't expecting company, certainly not at this hour..." He shrugs helplessly, fixing Ariane with a pleading look. "Would you mind terribly...?"

Ariane is already getting to her feet before he can finish his request. As the moogles flutter in, Aymeric pulls himself into a more comfortable seated position, not wishing to greet their guests lying down.

Old habits die hard.

He blinks owlishly as one of the moogles sets a basket beside him. Upon hearing their explanation, a slow, tired smile spreads across his face. He hasn't the heart to correct their misunderstanding, nor to inform them that the scale of their project is just slightly off.

However, as he gently picks the basket up, he can't help but admire the craftsmanship. From the tightly-woven fibers to the colorful cloth lining and silk ribbons adorning the handle, it's obvious that a lot of time and effort was put into it.

"A lovely gift, and quite thoughtful, as well." Aymeric offers his most diplomatic smile. "I daresay I needn't worry over any of my eggs breaking should they be housed in such exquisite baskets."

"You really think so, kupo?" One of the moogles twirls with delight. "See? I told you all that practice would surely pay off!"

"Okay, you were right, kupo! But my poor little paws have blisters from all that weaving..."

"Kupo-po, me too! If only there was something to take our minds off the pain..."

"Whatever happened to 'hard work is it's own reward'?" Aymeric chuckles at the sudden wave of crestfallen looks. "However, it would be remiss of me to send you all home on an empty stomach, wouldn't it?"

He gestures toward a small barrel near the door. "Pray, help yourself to some kupo nuts. You have more than earned them."

With a chorus of kupo!s and don't mind if I do's, the moogles immediately beeline toward the barrel, pushing and shoving one another as they greedily gather up as many kupo nuts as they can carry in their tiny little arms.

"Pray, give my regards to the Temple Knights upon your return!"

"Oh, we will, kupo!"

"Sorry we can't stay longer, kupo. So much work, so little time, and these kupo nuts won't eat themselves!"

And then, just as quickly as they had arrived, they were gone. Aymeric sighed, carefully setting the basket aside before flopping heavily upon his nest once more. Maybe it was due to his condition, but being in the presence of so many energetic moogles had left him feeling suddenly drained. More so than usual, at any rate.

"Never a dull moment when they're around, hm?" Aymeric smiles tiredly at Ariane. "Do you think we ought to tell them or...?"

Nah, let someone else explain the idiom. Or not. Maybe someone else will get some free baskets out of it, too?

[nophicascounsel]

Does Aymeric, too, ever stop and wonder about the life choices that led to them keeping kupo nuts on hand by the bushel for the purpose of appeasing moogles? Not that Ariane is complaining; for all that the little fuzzballs can be a nuisance at times, they're just irresistibly cute, and:

"They've become quite the artisans," she remarks, examining another one of the baskets. How did they manage such a strong, close weave with those stubby little paws? "I'm rather proud of the little fellows, aren't you?"

She holds the basket up in line with the far windowsill, humming thoughtfully. Perhaps if she lines a few up over there... and those wildflowers growing up by Four Arms would go beautifully with the color of the ribbons... yes, perfect. Ariane gives a satisfied nod.

For now, though, she gathers them up to pile on the dining table. Decorating can wait. Her beloved needs a good long rest, and she has a mind to join him.

(Morning...)

Ariane knows she was dreaming a moment ago, but the details are already faded into cobweb tatters, leaving only a brief and disorienting feeling that she ought to have wings. She blinks blearily, vaguely bemused to find herself with her arms wrapped about his legs, using his belly as an awkward pillow. That wasn't at all where she was when she fell asleep...

Subtle movement beneath her cheek. The eggs shifting again? Ariane's lips curve into a small smile. Her eggs. She turns her head slightly to plant a kiss upon his warm scales.

"Morning, 'm'ric," she mumbles, then something that might be "my love" but blends into a yawn. "You awake?"