Zarkon and Althea

Many times Zarkon had lain awake at night jealous that Charak had inadvertently stolen what was to be his greatest joy, training his first son to sword. He would never be as good as Charak, but he came close. One day, Lotor would surpass him. He might even surpass Charak. He was not there yet. He had fought him when he was a man past his prime, but then again, so was he when they had taken up swords against each other. Zarkon was only a handful of warmasters that had fought Charak to a standstill, and perhaps the only one who would have ever beaten him It was one of his proudest moments. He had almost lost to the great swordmaster but he summoned something close to the bloodlust and kept his sword at bay. He had injured the man in the move he was most adept at – one not for the elegance of the Arena but for the battlefield. He had never been trained to the sword so he new little of the art form. His sword was no more to him than a tool to get what he required and a way to keep what was his.

Zarkon agreed to stop his assault if Charak swore allegiance to him. The warmaster had been Zeppo's vassal, not his. Zeppo looked down from his box and granted his beloved warrior his request to be freed of his oath. Without the release, Zarkon would have taken the man's life. He needed the promise of fidelity to free him. Zarkon smiled with his victory. Loyalty owed by Charak was not a small thing. The fool had challenged the Great King for his woman and effectively lost his freedom.

Althea had watched all of this in great anticipation. Zarkon had told her that she was not worth his life but still he brought her to the great Imperial Arena to watch him fight for her. Zeppo demanded she sit next to him. He had been as curious as everyone else was about this woman who had caused so much chaos in the Ninth Kingdom. She was indeed beautiful but her obvious concern marred her beauty that day. She was nervous and did not say much as the battle progressed. There was no joy in her face when Zarkon won, nor was their sadness. He thought her a beautiful woman but he had taken far more attractive ones to his bed. He did not understand all the fuss as he led her out of his box. It was later that evening, at a state dinner that welcomed Zarkon, that he truly saw the Althea Carris of legend.

Althea entered the main dining hall bedecked in a dress that was more illusion than material. The red silk was cut down to her belly button on one side and her shapely rear on the other. Jewels that only the Demon King could afford were in a necklace that flowed down her front and all the way down her back. That alone would have gotten any Drule male going but the piece of resistance was her neck. Her thick golden hair was piled up high in an intricate bun exposing not one but two bite marks on her neck. They were not there earlier. The Demon King had mated with her since the match, something every male in the room had honed in on.

The Emperor, like a dog in heat, ran over to her. Half the other men in attendance moved closer but kept a respectful distance. Most Drule women would hide the ordeal of a recent mating, and the unwanted attention it attracted, but Zarkon's woman was shamelessly flaunting her husband's success in the bedroom. The women of Drule rarely saw a human since they were far from their borders, but they had heard the rumors that they had no mating season. They knew that in the kingdoms that shared boundaries with the humans that these females were sought after as pleasure slaves, and even mates. It was with envy and lust that their males were staring at the woman, knowing that she could be taken at anytime. The women growled and snarled as she passed; angry that their men were looking at her, some in an obviously aroused state. The men looked at their own women, who mated with them only once or twice a year, and wondered what it would be to have a woman with no season who would allow more than mere recreation on an ongoing basis. Zeppo called her over.

Althea bowed in submission, further revealing her charms. Zeppo licked his lips and sighed as he saw blood well up on her neck.

"Where is Zarkon?" The Emperor asked, his eyes taking in every curve of her body.

"He will be here shortly. He has been negotiating a trading agreement with the Yukors. He begs your forgiveness for the delay." She replied innocently. He felt his hand go to her waist. She pulled away and he growled threateningly. Althea looked at him and smiled. She knew what affect she was having on him. Drules usually kept their women locked up and out of all other male's sights when in season. Mate guarding took a somewhat serious toll on the population as men were willing to come to blows over a fertile female, married or not. The courts were usually very forgiving to a male who had forced such a female, especially if she had been in public or if she was not married. Any male could take her, that is, if they were willing to take on Zarkon.

"Althea Carris, you are not Zarkon's wife. Any of these men can challenge him to the Arena in order to possess you. Perhaps it is best that you choose more modest clothing when attending imperial affairs." Zeppo was still standing uncomfortably close to her. His breathing was ragged. He was becoming heady with her scent as he smelled the estrogen on her skin. She was fertile. He shook his head. He was not even thinking recreation. He wanted her in his bed tied to him. Images of a true mating filled his head. He had never once felt that way for his wife, and had taken her out of duty to make an heir rather than out of pleasure. It had taken years before he could bring himself to even that, knowing that a child would forever bind him to the shrew. It did not seem fair that his vassal, the Demon King, was so favored with such a mate. He was lost in his daydream, lustfully undressing the woman, when his wife approached. The Empress tried to stare down Althea who just turned and gave the Emperor, her husband, the most spectacular smirk and a wink that told him of unimaginable pleasure. His own body was raging for her as his wife stood next to him.

"Your Majesty, I beg to differ. He took down Charak today, your finest warrior. Are your men such fools that they wish to taste his sword? As for my dress, the women dress more freely on Korrinoth. I am sorry if I embarrassed any of your guests or their partners but I am a mere slave. My King chooses my clothing." She smiled and bowed again.

"I am sure that his bout with Charak must have been exhausting." Zeppo gave her a lewd smile that he did not even bother to hide from his wife. "I hope that you are worth all his troubles."

"My Lord, my life would have been easier if I was not." The Emperor continued to stare at her delicate skin that had been pierced, not once but twice, by Zarkon's teeth. She lightly touched it causing him to groan in frustration. His wife frowned at him but there was nothing to be done until the Emperor dismissed her. The swollen wounds occasionally leaked a fine line of blood. Several men were licking their lips as she wiped the little trickle away as they had longed to taste it, and taste her. Finally dinner was called and the Emperor let her go. She purposely sat down next to Charak who had not brought a woman.

"Althea, I see you thanked Zarkon for his victory. Will he be here soon?." He mused. Not daring to say what anyone else would. "Perhaps he will give you a boy this time." Charak put his hand on her belly and caressed it. The women of Drule gasped as she let him touch her, for she did not protest. It meant nothing to Althea. It would have meant nothing to Zarkon. The warmaster had sworn his allegiance to the Great King. Any hopes of bedding Althea Carris had died in the Arena that afternoon.

"If he indeed has given me a child I would hope for another girl. Leanarra is no longer a baby. I miss the cuddling." She spoke with Charak as if they were best of friends. "I do not need any more men in my life."

"I hear you already have several marriage offers for Leannara already." Charak was attempting to lighten what he felt was tension he that he felt in the room. He was trying to make her into the fiercely protective mother that he knew she was.

"They mean nothing. Her suitors may come see her a year before she is of age. I hear there are all sorts of rituals that must be adhered to." Althea did not like thinking about her little Leanarra, who actually stood a good five measures already, marrying one of these old lecherous men. She wanted her to go to a secondary school and marry a handsome young man. She did not desire a King, a warmaster or even an Emperor for her child. She just wanted her to have the happiness she had been denied.

"Zarkon keeps her under lock and key. Some say it is because she is so beautiful, others because she takes after her father. So tell me which is it?" The table listened intently.

"I assure you that there is no one quite like her. She is a marvelous creation to behold. She will be spectacular when she comes into her womanhood. Her skin carries only the slightest blush of blue, her eyes are the color of the winter sky, and she has little pointed ears. She neither favors Drule or human, but a unique combination of both." Althea licked her ruby lips.

"It is rumored that she bears the Mark of Jain. Is this true? Althea shook her head no. Now the whole table was listening. Althea would not have had it any other way.

"Her hair is blond like mine. The court gossips still have no proof that he is the bastard son of the Demon Prince." Althea replied. The table was looking uncomfortable as she mentioned the name of that cursed warrior. Althea, being human, was not always in tune to her host's hidden fears.

The Drules were not comfortable with any Wyvern that held great power – after all one of their women had conquered the known Universe. This woman, the Empress Jain IX, was said to be able to forge magic with her bloodlust too as did the defeated Wyvern prince they spoke of. The Wyverns could move entire fleets in minutes during the First Empire with their huge jump gates, a technology that was rumored to still exist in their long forgotten colonies. The Wyverns may have saved them from the human incursion but it had come at a huge price. Jain was insane. She decimated both populations in her quest for religious hegenomy and introduced slavery to make up for the lack of population. She brought them to the brink of destruction by letting their basic instincts run free again. They had no discipline. They were out of control. Then, in a stroke of genius, she composed the Law. The Law would rule all Drules. The Law, though far from perfect, was good. It gave them a set of rules to rebuild their fractured society on. They Wyverns were a curse and a blessing that they could not shake and yet this woman spoke of them nonchalantly.

Zarkon finally made it to the table. The Emperor shot him a glance that indicated he was angry at the king's late arrival. After all, the dinner had been served in his honor. He first offered his submission and then he slipped in next to Althea.

"Your Majesty, forgive my lateness." Zarkon looked content but more than exhausted.

It had only been four hours since he had met swords with Charak. In a surprise move, Althea had joined him in the shower and washed away his sweat. She whispered that she was grateful that he had fought for her. She had no desire to be one of many women in a warmaster's harem. She had never given herself to him so freely before and the thought excited him to no end. He thought it would end at recreation, as there was a banquet to attend to but she held him inside of her and urged him to give her a child. He should have resisted.

The Emperor was waiting but she was moaning with pleasure and begged him to stay within her triggering off the inevitable. She had never asked him to mate with him before and he was lost in the ecstasy of the moment. He tied her to him knowing that there would be hell to pay, both physically and politically. For two hours he held her to him, his mind and body lost in ecstasy as he filled her womb again and again. She said comforting words, she stroked his skin and helped him through the madness wondering what could possess him so. Why, she wondered, was this so different from the other, that they had two names to distinguish what type of sex they were having. Deep down, she knew that only this would produce a child, something she had learned both enthralled and scared the average Drule male. It seemed such an inefficient way to reproduce. She hoped that the Drule women enjoyed it more than she did. To her, it was nothing more than sheer torture. It was just a means to an end, and not a particularly pleasurable one. Once a month she put up with this strange little ritual, which she was so generously rewarded.

She gave the king credit. Drules were such an odd lot. They fantasized about it more than doing it. Most men shied away from it, even when their wives were in heat, fearing the emotional turmoil it could trigger or the children it could produce. It turned a ferocious Drule man into a whimpering kitten, but not a warmaster. They were used to unleashing their irrational side and took a perverse pleasure in evoking the insanity of this act. Once the tying was triggered, all Drules, both male and females, were lost to its pull. His teeth, forgetting she was human, sunk into her neck in a vain attempt to trigger ovulation. It meant that he was finishing up which pleased her immensely as she found the whole affair almost unbearable. She was startled by this as he was usually more considerate of her. She was even more surprised when his teeth tore into her a second time but she chalked it up to the day's pressures.

Recreation was one thing, it was no different than what humans did and usually was over with quickly. In fact, it meant little to the Drules, and it was not even counted as adultery. But this obviously was something else. It was animalistic and it occasionally frightened her. She laughed, after the fact, it even frightened the Drules. It had many euphemisms attached to it, but she thought one, the exquisite misery, summed it up best. Exquisite for the pleasure felt during the act, only to be followed by an exacting toll of the Drule psyche. It seemed to her that, from what she understood, the act of procreation brought a brief lotor to all of them.

Zarkon did not trust Althea's intentions that evening. She had not become pregnant in years and he wondered if she was purposely preventing his seed from catching. Women could be clever that way. He had no doubt that Haggar would aide her if she did not want to carry his child. There was not a month that would go by when that witch did not try to wheedle his way back into his bed. As tempting as the witch was, it would have only complicated things with the temperamental woman he viewed as his wife. Though Althea did not really want him, he knew that she would not readily share him either.

He could barely keep awake when her servant came in and did her hair. If she had been A Drule she too would have been too tired to move, her own body would have been in a biological dither as it would have been flooded with hormones. She ordered the servant to pile her golden hair away from her neck. She knew the effect that the bite marks would have on the other men at the dinner; they drove the men at the Great King's court insane. The urge to reproduce was so strong in their species, it shocked her that there were so few children to show for it. The bite marks signaled that she was fertile and willing. The fantasy of being tied to and impregnating a woman was always so much better than the reality of it, she thought, as Zarkon lay recovering in the bed. Her servant put on the elaborate necklace. She went over to the bed and looked down at the helpless male. She leaned over and kissed him gently on the forehead in a seemingly fond way. Zarkon was puzzled at the maneuver but was too exhausted to question it. Althea, as usual, had her own motives for her actions. He would be late and he asked her to make excuses.

"You should not go. It will cause unrest." He was half asleep.

"You would have both of us being rude to our host?" Althea answered back with laughing eyes.

"You are dressed inappropriately. Your neck still drips with blood. Do you want half of Zeppo's court to challenge me for your bed?" She looked at him and smiled.

"You just bested Charak…no one would dare. They will have their wives or their slaves for recreation tonight as they dream of what you just fucked." She stood in front of him and whirled around.

"Do not be so crude in what we just shared, it was not recreation. You should stay. A proper lady would stay." He tried to pull her close, but he was still weak.

"Lest you forget, I am not a lady. I am your slave." The bitterness tinged Althea's voice. He was not up for a fight with her.

"Another court will hate you…you are impossible. This is just an attempt to humiliate me." He tried to get out of bed and just collapsed back into it. Althea was always shocked that a human could bring a Drule to such a place.

"Not true. It will just add to the legend of the Demon King." She smiled and left him there. That night definitely added to the legend of Althea Carris. Every word she said was true. The men went home that evening and took slaves or wives to bed thinking of that bitch goddess who had so shamelessly revealed herself to them. They dreamed of her being tied to them as they partook in their so called recreation. Many were disappointed that their bedmates paled in comparison to the images of her that ran through their heads. They envied the monstrous king who took her to his bed every night, secretly wishing they had the nerve to challenge him in the Arena. She was Althea, the Ice Queen and she caused them all to burn for her, the men with desire and the women with hate. She hated all Drules and would have it no other way.

She returned to her suite that night with a wicked grin on her lips. Zarkon smiled as he walked in behind her, his strength having returned. He knew that he would go to take her again and she would push him away. She truly kept him in exquisite misery.