Daemon & Sunny Ch. 09

The Zagrosian quarters were closer. Princess Filini glared her guards out of her bedchamber, and Queen Nulkuta dismissed her own. Their protectors weren't happy, but they left the two women alone, as requested. For a moment, awkwardness reigned between the two, then Nulkuta reached up and unfastened the snaps of her top. With the release of each dark jeweled snap, a little bit more of her pale flesh came into view, including the curves of her breasts, thrust up as they were by a tight corset-like garment.

Filini shook her head to clear it, and began unfastening her own garments. It was hard to concentrate on what she was doing, however; the more she saw of the pale blond queen, the more she wanted her. "You are incredibly attractive, Your Majesty."

"Kuta."

"I beg your pardon?"

"We are two women who are interested in each other, at this moment. Negotiations and formalities can commence after we've seen if there's enough passion between us to start those negotiations," the Queen of Chonbei corrected her. "You may call me Kuta. I reserve it for my friends…and my lovers."

"Ah. Call me Fil," the shorter, tanned woman returned, balancing on one foot at a time to pull off her boots. She had to un-strap the knife sheaths wrapped around her calves, but at least the woman across from her was doing the same. Or rather, removing a small hold-out blaster from a pocket just under her cleavage. Filini eyed it in curiosity. "Wow. That's rather cute--where did you find one so small?"

"It's a special import from Tarsetti V. It only holds a few charges, but it's enough to give a woman a fighting chance." Kuta smiled slightly.

"Tarsetti V…I'll have to look into that." Fil looked down at her own cleavage, covered for the moment in a silken camisole that had been hidden under her uniform-like shirt and jacket. "But I don't know if I could hide it under my own breasts."

"I like small breasts. I like breasts of all sizes, really," Kuta admitted, "so long as they're shaped enough to be breasts. Flat chests never really appealed to me; they're rather unfeminine, and I don't like that."

"A true lover of women, then. Me, I like all sorts…but I do like a woman to be feminine, as I like a man to be masculine," Fil muttered, removing her pants. They were both almost naked now, leaving only their panties. "I've been visited by dignitaries from Gynandro, and they had about as much sexual appeal as a pile of sloppy cra…uh… Forgive me."

The Chonbei ruler merely laughed. "I'd heard you Zagrosians could be forthright. I like it. Everyone else soft-foots their speech around me."

"Well, we're usually soft-spoken in public, but we Zagrosians always speak our minds in private."

"Good; I like knowing where I stand with people. Shall we put our weapons by the bed?" the taller, paler woman asked politely. "I'm sure your guards are monitoring our situation, as are mine to some extent, but a woman can never be too careful about her personal safety."

"Quite. Though my people train in weaponless combat, it never hurts to have a few weapons on hand," Fil added as she put her knives on the bedside table, along with a small electro-prod.

"What ruler wouldn't, if she wished to survive a long and prosperous reign?" Kuta asked her rhetorically, adding her mini-blaster and a couple of sharp hairpins to the growing pile. "Fil…come, it is time to kiss."

Princess Filini narrowed her eyes. "I thought you said that ridiculous schedule of yours was an illusion to throw off King Daemon's interest in your bid."

"It is…but I really want to kiss you, right now." Taking her hand, Kuta drew the asiatic woman closer. Gently spearing her fingers through Fil's silky dark hair, she angled her head and brushed her lips against that soft, dusky pink mouth. Their first kiss was soft, but didn't stay that way for long. Fil sighed, parting her lips. Kuta met the exploratory touch of her tongue with a sweep of her own.

Arousal flared between the two women, sharp and sweet pangs racing through their nerves as Fil palmed Kuta's breasts, testing their shape, their weight, their softness. Kuta tilted her partner's head back, kissing her way down the other woman's throat. Nibbling along that naturally tanned collarbone, Kuta slid her hands to the ties that held Fil's hair in place. As Fil rubbed and rolled her nipples, as she kissed her way up the other side of that naturally tanned throat, Nulkuta unfastened the braid confining those dark locks. Only when she had finger-combed them out over her partner's shoulders did the blond queen pull back.

A sigh escaped her. "You look like an erotic dream I once had, Fil."

Filini blushed. "Thank you. Could you…could you undo your own hair?"

"Of course." Reaching up, Kuta pulled out the pins holding it in its severe bun at the back of her head. Fil took advantage of her raised arms to massage her uplifted breasts. "Mm, that feels nice. That damned bustier itches after a while."

"The effect it has on your cleavage is worth it," Fil told her, dipping her head to suckle one pert, pink nipple.

"Mmm, only if you promise to massage it whenever I take it off for you."

"…If not me," Fil offered, lapping around the shriveled skin of her areola, "then you can borrow my masseusse. She's about the Royal Consort's size and shape, but with strawberry blond hair, and freckles everywhere. And she likes women, too."

"Sounds lovely." A last shake to let her straight blond locks fall just past her breasts, and Kuta slid her hands over Fil's arms, down past the dip of her waist to the pink silk panties she wore, a match to her discarded camisole. The muscles she found and kneaded made her sigh with happiness. "You must run, or bike, or something, to have such a delightfully firm backside."

"Calisthenics every morning. The Heir has to be the Warleader for the Cluster, which means I have to…mmm," Fil sighed, enjoying the feel of their breasts rubbing together, "…have to be as physically fit as any of our warriors."

"I appreciate your diligence to your duties." The dry-voiced quip made both women laugh. Laughter led to a grope, a kiss, a shedding of the last two barriers. They sprawled on the bed, content for a while to just kiss and caress. Kuta stroked that soft black hair, while Fil played with her own platinum locks. One hand swept down to the dip of a waist, another to the curve of a hip as their mouths met languidly. Urgency rose, however, when Fil boldly slid her fingers from Kuta's hip to her inner thigh. The paler woman's kisses grew bolder as her knee lifted, parting her legs in open invitation.

Too polite to refuse even an unspoken request from someone of higher rank, Fil slipped her fingers down to the soft, trimmed mound being exposed for her. Encountering slick warmth, the smaller woman groaned softly and pushed the queen onto her back. Lips sealing around the tip of one breast, Fil worked her fingers gently into her partner's folds, circling teasingly around the turgid little peak of her clitoris.

Kuta moaned and spread her legs wider, tilting her hips up. Obligingly, Fil pressed one finger into her depths, enjoying the sultry texture. Extracting the digit after a moment, she brought her hand up to her mouth and tasted the liquid that coated it.

"Mmm, delicious. Do you mind if I…?"

"Please, do--on your side; I'll do you, too," Kuta added. A bit of squirming on the bed, and they each pillowed a head on the other's thigh. The ruler of Chonbei had to arch her back a little, since she was taller by nearly half a foot, but it wasn't too awkward or unmanageable. And it was fun to lick each other simultaneously.

Delicious fun…

…

Daemon let out the breath he'd been holding in a sigh, as his flesh sank into Sunny's. Bracing much of his weight on his elbows and his knees, he looked down at his beloved. As much as he wanted to move--as much as his body craved rhythm and release--he held himself still. Licking lips that had gone dry, he asked, "So…what now?"

"What do you mean, what now?" Sunny asked, licking her own lips in subconscious echo.

"Well…you're the Imperial expert. How do we…you know…complete the Matrix?"

"That part's never really been discussed anywhere," Sunny informed him dryly. "So I wouldn't have a clue. Other than some vague reference to 'an opening of the mind and the heart' and 'an acceptance of responsibility'. But I don't know how to do that."

Pondering that, Daemon shook his head slowly. "I don't know how to do that, either. My mind is now open to the fact that we've been chosen, but…the only thing my heart accepts is your place in the center of my universe. As for responsibility…I'm just as responsible for the people of my own kingdom. The thought of adding a crumbling interstellar empire to that is unnerving."

"But modern technology makes it possible to rule from anywhere in the world," Sunny reminded him. "I wouldn't think of it as suddenly gaining a whole new empire as, um…as just expanding Astorran borders a bit."

"'A bit'," he snorted. "That's like saying Armon is 'a bit' off the idea of dating women."

"Well, would you try to treat everyone in the Pax Imperium the same as you would an Astorran citizen?"

"Of course," he agreed. "Wouldn't you?"

"Well, I've never ruled, nor been raised to rule…but I'd treat them all as if they were fellow Craidan Citizens. I do care about the people of the Empire. I'd certainly do my best to respect everyone, via the Common Rights Charter."

"I could do that, too," he agreed. "I just wish…"

"Yes?" she encouraged him when he fell silent for a moment.

"I wish I knew what the Matrix is, and why it exists. Then I could know whether to accept the weight of the Imperium on our shoulders or not."

"As do I. If we could only ask it directly--" Sunny said.

Darkness descended, blocking out the sight of her bedchamber in the saeda. Darkness, and weightlessness. Out of that darkness a dark shape uncoiled itself. Light exploded, and out of that light a brilliant form writhed into sight. They twined and twirled around each other, swerving around the sexually entangled couple with a silent rush of noise, a shining streak of darkness. Spiraling faster and faster, whirling closer and closer, the White and the Black Dragons enfolded the two of them in a dizzying blur.

No words were spoken. No gestures, no images. Just a sense of knowing pervaded them. Alien. Benign, and incredibly powerful, advanced beyond mere mortal understanding, but irrefutably alien. Aged. Spry with vitality but bearing the weight of eons. Intimate, and yet distanced by the weathering of time. Overflowing with knowledge, yet parceling out only just enough for their minds to comprehend at one time.

The Matrix was comprised of a pair of aliens born long ago, their minds forged long ago into the purity of immortal willpower. The White and the Black had slipped the bonds of matter to explore the universe, and in reaching this corner of it, found worlds in strife…and a pair of lovers who wanted what the White and the Black had learnt in their metaphysical interbreeding of philosophy and practicality: the power to impose just enough peace on everyone to stop the bloodshed, without denying the little turmoils that shaped most lives for the better, like the way an archaic winnower would toss grains into the air to let the unwanted chaff blow away with the wind.

There was more to it than that, much more--a compatibility of ethics blended with expediency, an understanding that the best leader was one capable of both action and compassion, a hunt for someone who understood the difference between restitution and retribution, someone who preferred to choose the latter. A mind capable of opening itself in acceptance of a wide diversity of cultures, to help promote peace and understanding. A pair of minds, rather.

The words of the Matrix Riddle fell from Sunny's lips, echoing into the light-filled darkness surrounding them.

"That which Cannot      And that which Can Be, Touched if by Thou      And Made if by Thee, The One Chooses the Other,      And the Other Chooses the One, What cannot be Touched or be Made--      Can always be Done or Undone."

The Matrix was nearly impossible, both in conception and contemplation: two intertwined alien consciousness evolved to a level beyond comprehension, yet still tied to the mortal realm by a compassionate, driving need to…to what? …To give the other, lesser races enough peace and time to evolve themselves into higher beings? And to that end, they, or it, or whatever the Dragons had become now chose to spend eternity selecting two like-minded individuals from among lesser beings. As like-minded as could be found among such limited creatures.

It was definitely annoying, Daemon and Sunny both realized, to be considered akin to bugs meant to be prodded around by the will of creatures vastly greater than themselves, on the evolutionary scale. And yet…humbling and awe-filling at the same time. Of all the sentients in the galaxy, the two of them had been chosen. Both had great compassion within them, and yet a great practicality. The White and the Black approved of that.

Utter chaos impeded growth, yet true peace was little better than stagnation. Their job wasn't to remove all strife from the universe, but they weren't to allow strife to have the upper hand, either. The Dragons--for lack of a better racial name, since the consciousnesses of White and Black were unlike anything Sunny or Daemon had ever encountered--had grasped enough of the workings of the universe to bend whole galaxies to their will, if they so desired. Enough power to enslave everything within their vast reach. But they did not do so. Neither did they chose those who were driven by ambition or greed. It was…it was like a parent who encouraged a child to explore on their own, yet constantly watched for hazards, and encouraged the child occasionally in one direction or another, to further their pursuit of learning.

They saw everything on a vaster scale than mere mortals. They had certainly seen the potential for love between Daemon and Sunny, had read the interweaving threads of the tapestry of the universe, and knew that if, if they plucked situations just so, she would come to him, touch him, choose him, and he would choose her, make her, and when the moment was right…they would Become.

If…

If they accepted what they needed to become, and what they needed to do.

They didn't have to become the next Emperor and Empress.

…And yet, how could they refuse? It was hard to think in as great an abstract as the betterment of an interstellar Empire. It was easier to think in more local, concrete terms. Queen Astrida of Ruyikan, who had ordered the deaths of Daemon's brother and father. The pirates, who were probably still going to try to steal the Matrix for themselves…though at least that much was impossible by the very nature of the Matrix--water and fire did not mix well. And themselves; they were meant to be together, the Dragons reassured them wordlessly, yet how could they be together if she was nothing but a Consort?

That wasn't enough to convince them. Not enough…until a tendril of awareness speared out through the shining shadows enveloping them. An image formed in their minds, a tiny, slender figure creeping through ventilation ducts that wouldn't have fit someone of a more normal stature. The reek of poison clung to a vial in a pocket on the dark-clothed figure's arm; how they knew it was poison, neither one knew. But the Dragons knew. The Dragons even knew the target.

Two lovers, one petite and dark-haired, the other taller and fair. Bodies writhing, hands groping, lungs panting, mouths nipping. An assassin had been sent by someone to kill one of them, either the Queen of Chonbei or the Princess of Zagros. It was within their power to save the pair, and prevent a massive political disaster…

If…

Neither Daemon nor Sunny had an emotional attachment to either woman…but they knew it would be wrong to let the two women die. It would not only cause a political nightmare for the people of Astorra, if the heir to the Zagros Cluster and the sovereign of the Chonbei worlds died while in Daemon's care, it would just be wrong for them to not do something to stop it from happening. Yet, in order to act, they had to accept all of the responsibilities that came with the powers of the Matrix.

But it wasn't any different.

It did not matter if they helped two royals, or two commoners, two friends or two strangers. Reaching out with her mind in that same way she'd reached into the Ruyikan Ambassador's thoughts, only much easier and with the assured skill of the White Dragon within her, Sunny dove into the assassin's mind, seeking her patron-hirer with the eyes of the Matrix. Daemon reached out with the claws of the Black Dragon and neutralized most of the poisons and explosives secreted about the diminutive woman's lithe, acrobatic body. Metals weakened, molecular bonds withered. A thought flashed between the two of them, and the duct floor collapsed, along with the ceiling directly underneath it.

The world came back with a jolt not unlike the slamming of the assassin's body into the floor at the center of a room filled with Chonbei and Zagrosian warriors. Sunny blinked, looking up at Daemon. He blinked as well, staring down at her. They now had the power to touch, to make, to do and undo. But they'd always had the instinctual wisdom to know when to interfere, and when not to. Somewhere, elsewhere in the palace, the assassin was being dealt with; that was all they needed to do about that problem, for now.

It wasn't just about wielding an alien, incomprehensible, instinctual power; it was about knowing when not to wield that power.

Relaxing, Daemon pulled his mind back into far more mundane--and pleasant--matters. Such as the fact that he was embedded in his beloved Sunny's body, with her legs and arms entwined around his torso. It was time to make love with her. Rebuilding the Empire could wait another day or two…

A knocking on the door to Sunny's bedchamber interrupted them just as he started to move within her. Armon's voice cleared itself nervously on the other side of the panel. "Ah…Majesty? Sunny? I do hate to interrupt, but…we have a new princess in orbit, Princess Shirra from some Rimworld nation called 'Praedo'. I've never heard of it, but she's demanding the right to land and be welcomed by you immediately, and wants an invitation to the Familial Ball."

Groaning softly, Daemon dropped his forehead to Sunny's. "Sweet Astorra's headache…you realize the interruptions are only going to get worse, sitting on the thrones of the Pax Imperium…"

Sunny stroked his dark locks back from his forehead. "Shh. I'll take care of it… Armon?" she called out, raising her voice to penetrate through the door. "Tell this princess she can come down, and come to the Ball tomorrow night, but that the next Court session is tomorrow morning. She can be introduced then!"

Kissing her, Daemon withdrew partway and rocked back inside, enjoying the wet warmth clasping his erection. His whisper accompanied an amused smile "You always know what to say to make me happy."

"…Majesty?" Armon prompted through the doorway.

"You heard her, Armon! Now, go away! My Consort and I are in a closed conference over who I should take as my Royal Wife!"

The eunuch's chuckle was faint, but audible. "'Closed conference'… I'll have to remember that one for the next time I need to 'confer' with my own bedpartner. As you wish, Your Majesty--have fun 'conferring', both of you!"

"Oh, we will!" Sunny called out, and laughed as Daemon retaliated for her lack of attention to him by blowing a raspberry against one of her breasts. She tried to do the same to him against his throat; he tickled her in retaliation, and thrust deep into her flesh.