Don't own anything but OC's and story line. I adopted the plot, but I think it is scared of me. The little bunny just ran away on its own.

If you Ignored the warnings in the first chapter:

THAT'S YOUR OWN FAULT, YA IDJITS!!!

Chapter 3: HAVS

We reached the nest just after the sun reached its highest peak, and as we landed, about half of the girls were out waiting for us. Heather came forward with my first born on her hip, and as I got off Toothless, she took my hand and laid a small kiss on bruised knuckles. It turned out that when I grabbed Astrid and slammed her into the tree, I also slammed my fist into the bark under her hands. Thank goodness it was smooth, or it would have broken the skin. "Welcome home," she said as she lifted her head to look into my eyes.

I caressed her right cheek with my undamaged hand and said, "Thank you," before she left my side and did the same with my mother while I brought Astrid off my saddle. She winced in pain as I set her down, and when she was stable on her feet, I told her to go with Heather while I took the saddle and brace from Toothless.

"Hi," I could hear her say as she outstretched her hand in greeting. "I'm Heather, and you?"

"I'm Ast..."

"Astrid!" she was interrupted. We all looked up to see a tall brunette running up to us with a blond-haired, blue-eyed, one-and-a quarter-year-old boy in a sling looking over her shoulder.

"Agnes!" Astrid screamed back in joy as she ran off to reunite with her sister. Her sister hugged her with as much strength as she could and I heard Astrid gasp out in pain before her sister flinched and pulled away gingerly to hold her at arm's length to look at her.

"Are you okay?" she asked. Astrid nodded and Agnes looked up to ask me, "We've prepared her room for her. May I take her there?" I nodded my consent and she walked up to me to kiss me on my hand as well before saying, "Thank you," and walking away with her sister under her arm.

"Astrid," I called before she could get to the rest of the girls. She flinched, turned, and caught the bottle of oil I tossed her. "Have your sister put that on your back when you get to your room. It will help." She blushed and nodded before her sister wrapped her arm gently around the girl's shoulders and led her through the group left in front of me. I then went with my mother and placed Toothless' saddle and rigging in the forge, then went to our room to sleep for the first time since I rose, yesterday morning.

"It's never as bad as the first time," I heard my sister say as we walked down a carved corridor in the outer rim of the nest. I jumped when I heard her speak for the first time since I was first reunited with her in what was apparently the main hall of that man's wing of the nest. She led me down the long corridor and stopped about three doors from the end and pointed to the left. "This room is mine. The door is always open if you need me, literally, because none but the master's bedroom has a door, and this room," she said, pointing to the right, "is yours. Picked personally by Valery before they left, and all of the furniture made by Hamish and the dragons.

I walked into the rather large room, and the first thing I saw was a large bed right in the middle made up with furs and wool and cotton cloth. It took up about a quarter of the room, and it just so happened to be the most comfortable bed I had sat on in my life. I found myself curling on my side against the warm comfort in the cold room while I looked around the rest of the cavern. The ceiling was high and covered in carvings of nadders of every size and shape and personality. It had norse words beside each picture that told what each action and emotion of the nadders meant, and more around the door and furniture depicted blessings from the gods, known and unknown to me, for the person who dwelled there. There were also some that told how to protect yourself from the dragons when your own was not around.

I sat up in 'my' bed and looked around the rest of the room, a small "wow" escaping my lips as I turned away from the carvings in favor of looking at the furniture in the room. The bed I now sat on was raised off the floor by a large wooden frame that barely fit the mattress, little carvings of Night Furies and what I found out to be Storm-cutters all over the bed posts, showing similar emotions to the nadders drawn all across the ceiling, however different in ways that could only be described as individuality. There was a wooden chest of drawers by the head of the bed on the opposite side to the door that had the same thing, and at the foot of the bed, in the middle of the room, there was a large stone chest with a lock on it that I imagine had something in it that I was not supposed to touch or see, for my sister had a similar chest in her own room that I saw when I took a glance in it.

Straight across from the door to the corridor was another door, and walking over to it, I realized that it was set up to hold any Items that I might have, including five shelves along the back wall, a rail along the wall on the right, and several hooks to the left. It looked quaint, but empty, so I turned around and went back out to catch up with my sister. I turned and was about to say something when someone knocked on the door frame and saw 'Hamish' standing in the doorway with a pack slung over his shoulder. I jumped when I saw him, and sidestepped closer to my sister.

"You can relax," he said, holding his hand up and smiling gently. "I didn't come for anything. I was just about to head to bed and I figured you would want your stuff." He pulled the bag off his shoulder and I realized he had changed into something light and loose on his skin. The shirt had no sleeves and the pants were just barely long enough to cover his knees. His hair was let down over the front of his shoulders, clean and long, and it reached down to the bottom of his chest. His eyes were a stunning emerald green, and his muscles were well formed, though partially hidden behind his baggy clothes.

He set the bag down on the floor next to the door and turned to my sister. "Will I be seeing you two for dinner? I was hoping Astrid could meet the others and find her place among you all."

I turned to my sister and watched as she became a totally different person to what she was just a few minutes ago. she stood straight and lowered her head to the man in my doorway, and the pulled one of the straps on the sling her child was in so that he was closer to her back as she replied. "Of course. We will be there at the normal time sir." Even her response was different, more stressed and formal.

He nodded and said, "Alright. See you there," then turned to leave, but before he moved past the door, he turned back and said, "And get that oil on her back so she can rest for a while. She only got two and a half hours of sleep this morning." My sister nodded, I blushed, and he left for his own room as I sat back down on the soft, warm bed. My sister then sat down next to me and rested her hand on mine, a calming gesture that we used to do for each other as kids and before she disappeared.

"Take your shirt off and lie down," she told me as she took the oil from the bedside where I had unconsciously put it when I walked in and sat down for the first time. I nodded and moved to do what she said and she held my hand as I eased myself onto my stomach. "Try to relax, okay?"

"Okay," I nodded and whispered.

She started to massage some of the oil into my tender skin, and when I hissed, she began to talk. "It's never as bad as the first time," she murmured, Repeating her words from the corridor, and I now felt that she was trying to convince herself as she pulled off the bandages from the cut on my shoulder. she reached into the bedside drawer and pulled out what smelled like strong alcohol and then pulled out some clean bandages. She poured some of the alcohol onto a cotton pad and started to dab the drenched pad on the lash wound on my back. It burned, but I knew from when I got my battle scars cleaned by Gothi, if it burned, it was getting clean.

As soon as she finished, she coated the bandaging in the oil and wrapped it back around my torso. She then finished massaging the oil into my skin. It burned, but the burn only lasted a few minutes as it faded into a dull warmth, and for the first time all day, I felt relaxed. I finally felt comfortable enough to talk with my sister about what was going on, and even though he threatened to keep me here for the rest of my life and beat me every day until I bled if I told anyone here who he and his mother were, or that they were mother and son to begin with, I could still ask her about life here.

I looked up at her from my position on my side and asked her the first thing that popped in my head. "What do you mean when you say 'It's never as bad as the first time?'"

She looked down at me, at my back, and sighed before grabbing a chair that I hadn't seen in the corner, against the walls that held the bed and the door. When she pulled it up to sit by the bed, she started telling of my future by teaching me Heather's past. "It is something Heather told the first twenty of us when we came here. At first, it was just something we said because we hoped it would get better, but time taught us that it was just because we got better at dealing with it. She was the first. By the time the first of us came here, she had already had a daughter and had been through the worst of it, and now, she is like a mother to us all, even though she is younger than you are by a year. She was sixteen years old when the first found herself here, and at first, she begged them not to take her back because she was a prisoner where her dragon had taken her from. He and his wife agreed, rather reluctantly, really, and they brought her back here."

"A few moons later, he approached her with a request. He asked her to bear a child for him, since his own wife could not without expecting death. She first refused, but his expression turned dark. It scared her, for she had never seen him like that, and then she found out why. He gave her two options. Bear his child, or be sent back to Outcast Island to be made Alvin's whore. In her mind, she had no choice. While he looked much like him at that point, at least he had treated her well. With the Outcasts, she was kept in filth, beaten, tortured. The only reason Alvin would bring her out of her cell was because he wanted his nightly session where he tied her to his bed and basically took her any way he could find, or because he wanted a trophy to stand there and look pretty, a bragging right to others. Here, she got free reign, clean food and water, an actual bed to sleep on, and at the time, all he wanted was a child. Even after she became pregnant, all he really did was tie her hands and have sex with her from time to time. The way he was demanding and controlling had turned her on."

"About four moons into the pregnancy, things changed. He got really drunk and depressed for some reason, went to her room in the middle of the night and grabbed her, binding her hands and pulling her to a hook in her closet. She was tied to that hook, a whip she had never seen before pulled from his belt, and he beat her as hard as he could until the floor and walls were spattered with red and she went limp, hanging by her arms. He then turned around and left, walked to the edge of the cliff above the lake, and walked right off the edge. If Toothless hadn't been following him, he would have hit the lake and never resurfaced."

"What happened then?" I asked, entranced, wondering what had happened to the two of them since they were obviously both still alive.

"Toothless dragged him back to Heather's room and left a few terrors and her razor-whip to watch over him, made sure he didn't go anywhere, while he ran and found Hamish's wife. He then dragged her back to Heather's room, pushed her past him and into the closet where Heather had been cut loose by her dragon and was curled against her, crying."

"When she saw Heather, she tried to get to her, but her dragon would not let her get close. She had to get toothless to push the dragon out so that she could help the girl, and even then, Heather pulled away, trying to keep her from getting to her. It wasn't until she pulled her into a light hug and started to sing to her that she calmed down enough Valery to clean the wounds and wrap them to keep her back protected."

"When she was finally done cleaning and wrapping her back, she pulled Heather away from the now red closet floor and into her room to get her dressed and cared for. It was after she was fully clothed that she realized Hamish was sleeping on the floor by the door, face down, being held there by a black dragon that was at least five, maybe ten times his size. He heard them come back into the room and waited while his lover took care of his surrogate, and when they were done, he groaned and asked for them to get the 'stupid reptile' off of him." I couldn't help but laugh at that. The thought of him squished under a Night Fury and him being indignant instead of frightened just sounded too funny.

"She walked back into the closet, and when she came back, she told the dragon to move, only to bring his own whip down on his back three times. She then told the dragon to take him to their room and wait for her. She helped Heather get comfortable, gave her something to ease the pain and help her sleep before heading to her own room for the night."

"For the next three weeks, the only person Heather saw around the nest was Valery. His wife would clean her wounds, which had turned out quite shallow in his drunken state. She took up her chores and brought her food and water so that she would not have to strain herself and break open the nicely closing cuts. At the end of those three weeks, she was finally able to leave the room with the aid of her dragon, and Hamish's wife drug him by the ear, hands bound behind his back, to bow before her and apologize for what he had done to her. As it turned out, his beloved tied him to their bed and tortured him every day for those three weeks she was healing. He had not even been able to find rest, or even lift his hands or feet from the bed for the whole three weeks, and when she set him free the night before, the first thing he did was pull her under him and exact his revenge. He then loved his wife all night and was taken to see her the next morning."

"Valery seriously tied him to the bed?" I asked. I found it hard to believe she would actually do that, but then, I hadn't seen much of her personality.

"Yeah. She did," my sister replied. She then sighed and continued. "After that night, things changed between him and Heather. He never again beat her that hard or that long, but he did start to take the whip to her back at least every other day. He claimed that he needed it to relieve stress, but she knew he enjoyed it more then he said. It was weeks before he broke the skin again, but when he did, it was only twice, and only after she was completely out of it from pleasure."

"Pleasure?" My sister nodded and I shook my head, sitting back up. "How can anyone find pleasure in that? You would have to be crazy to find that pleasurable."

She now shook hear head, laying her hand on my shoulder. "If that's the case, then I'm crazy too." I stared at her in shock and she pushed me back, laying me down on the bed. "If that were the case, then everyone here would be crazy. We don't know how, but he has some sort of ability with that whip that can make someone mindless, not in pain, but in absolute pleasure. He calls it subspace, and you just reach a point where you can't think or do or feel anything in the outside world. I was the one who hit that point last, just about a week ago, the day before he lefd to rescue the dragons. He starts out so gentle, it's like a complete contrast to the way he usually touches us that you almost think it's a trick, but it isn't. As soon as you relax to the soft touches of the whip, he only brings the pain up enough to make it sting. By the time the strikes are at the power of what you first felt on your back, you're begging him for more, and by the time he reopens the scar, your already in subspace. You wouldn't be able to feel it till you woke up the next morning anyway, and by then, most of the pain has already faded."

My sister was now smiling like an idiot. I don't know how else to explain it except that. I watched as she sighed longingly, and then she shook her head, laughed under her breath, and brought her attention back to me. "Anyway, after she had her child, he had grown unable to bed her. He made do for a while, but after two moons, he went to Berk. That was the first girl he took. He still has a night with her every now and then, but now it is on a rotation. One every night, One every morning, and everyone has a turn before the cycle starts over. Sometimes one of us will get pregnant, but most times, we don't. Ruffnut has her own child to care for now."

"Wait, wait, wait. Ruffnut's ALIVE!?"

She looked at me like she was insulted. She actually looked insulted. My sister could have never looked insulted two years ago. "Of course she's alive. Hamish isn't a monster... Well, not a killer anyway. He would never treat one of us like something disposable. He cares for us and treats us like people. He might not love us like he loves his wife, but he still cares."

"From what I have seen so far, it doesn't look like he cares."

"So he didn't clean your wound after he was done," she said with a smug look, "or rub your back down with oils," she continued, and I gave her a sheepish look, "or give you water and make sure you stayed hydrated."

I was looking down at the bed now. "He threatened to force it down my throat," I grumbled and she laughed at me.

"Yeah, he did that to me too. Now, we have been talking for about and hour and you need to get some rest before dinner, so you get some sleep and I will wake you up to get ready for dinner in about an hour. Okay?"

Sighing, I nodded, and she tucked me in the soft fur before walking to the door. "Will you be here when I wake up?" I asked, shooting up in bed. She chuckled and told me she wouldn't dream of leaving her little sister alone before walking out the door and across the hall to her own room. I then curled up and went to bed, enjoying the comfort of my own place, a little comfort I didn't even get at home.

I watched as my son slept for the first time since dawn the day before. He never slept well when we were away from the nest, and he was lucky if he got four hours of sleep when he did. He would usually use valerian root to make him sleep before coming the rest of the way here, but he had asked me give what we had to the Hofferson girl, so he stayed awake and prepared for the trip back, drew some, and talked with Toothless about what we would do with the girls, who to send home, and who was not yet bonded with their dragon enough to ride them back.

He was so beautiful when he was sleeping, so peaceful. His face was so soft and gentle when he slept compared to the strong, hard frown when he was awake. He could always find something to worry about when awake. I loved it so much when he found a rare thing to laugh at, but nothing could compare to the soft smile, lack of tension in his brow, and completely soft and calm appearance on his face and in his body during sleep. He truly needed this after this trip.

Now if only I could get what I need from him.

Ever since that one time two years ago when I got him to let me know what it was the others felt at his hands, he has been adamantly refusing to do it again. No matter how many times I ask, he continually says no, and I'm getting tired of it. I've grown sostressed and tense over the last few moons, just because of the dragons and taking care of the girls, and I have also had to deal with his stress over the past three years. Ever since that night, I have been dreaming about he haze, the absolute peace and mindlessness it brings me, it's bliss, and yet every time I ask, his answer is, 'I cannot put you through that again. No.' I'm half tempted to tie him to the bed again and tease him until he agrees.

No. The stress we deal with is torture enough. Honestly, in just the past moon alone, he almost got caught by the Bogs, the Berserkers almost killed Cloud, he got in a battle with his father, Toothless and I were both wounded by the meatheads, and we almost lost the dragons that we saved to the Death-song on Melody Island. Also, just three weeks ago, before we left for the Archipelago, Vigo shot him and Toothless out of the sky with a dragon root arrow and tried to kill them. Hamish was able to save them, but he had to kill Vigo in order to do so. That night, he drank almost a whole keg over the lake in front of the Bewilderbeast and passed out on his head after trying to jump. The next morning, I had to tie him up just to keep him from doing something he would regret.

He ends up like that every time he takes a life. It was because of his part in Drago's death that he took his first drink... and his second... and his third through thirtieth. That was the first time he tried to kill himself, but it wasn't the first time his dragon had to jump to save him. It didn't matter that Drago was a bad man. It didn't matter that he did it for me. He had still taken a life from this world prematurely. The man could have had a family and kids who loved him, or he could have been helping people that couldn't have gotten help anywhere else, and my son had killed him. In doing so, he killed a part of himself. He gets like that every time he is forced to take a life, and every time, I am there to comfort him through it.

The fact that Viggo's death happened just a week before we left for our homelands only made things worse. In the past, he always had three or more weeks to recover from what he had done, but given only a week before he went to deal with the islands around the place of his birth and having to deal with everything there, it has stressed him badly. He now needs rest, and he needs a way to unwind.

I hope I can give him that way to unwind when he wakes up instead of him having to go to the others. He has been asleep for five hours now, and dinner is usually two hours after dark. considering he fell asleep an hour after we got back, the sun should set in an hour, which meant dinner would be in three, so I started to wake him up like he asked me so. Sort of. Sitting up in bed, I leaned over him and laid my over his strong, flat stomach. He was so much lighter than my ex-husband. It made things so much easier than what it used to be at the time he was concieved. His father was so vast in everything, it hurt to sleep with him, even when we did nothing but sleep. He would role over in bed and throw himself over me like I was some sort of lifeline to his sanity, and when we did do more, he was so large that it felt like he was tearing me to pieces. It crushed me, and when he was done, he would just collapse on top of me like I was a pillow and cut off my air supply until he decided to roll on his side with me five minutes later. I didn't even enjoy it all that much, so imagine my surprise when Hamish came of it.

I feared he wouldn't make it when he was born. He was so small, being born almost a moon too soon, but his father swore that he was strong, that he would make it. Well, his father was proven right, and now his son is the two year old thorn in his side, and the lover of his ex-wife. If he had seen him five years ago, when the boy was fifteen, he would have never believed that he would be taller than me, let alone almost as tall as him. With broad shoulders, lean back, strong legs and oh so powerful core, his father would have never believed that it would have been possible, even before he was taken. He was just too small.

He is nothing like his father.

~~~Smut~~~Incest~~~Bondage~~~Sexual Torture~~~Impact Play~~~

I moved my hand lower, tickling his sweet spots, watching him twitch before looking to his face to be sure he was still asleep. I then bent down and kissed him, right bellow his belly button. He groaned and I looked up to see his face scrunched up adorably in pleasure. He then moaned as he tossed his head to the left, and I looked back down to see his body tense and harden.

Leaning down, I licked him while he continued to cry out. After that, I took it further, making him writhe and cry. I heard him casp and felt his body lurch up from the bed as I brought his blood to the surface, and then he moaned and fell back onto the bed. "Oh, Mom. You're killing me," he cried in a rough tone before lacing a hand into my long, wavy hair and tugging hard, forcing my own sounds from my throat and vibrating through him. Ducking my head back down, I lavished him with my mouth before pulling back up and trying to pull him in with me. He cried, louder this time, and jolted into me, almost throwing me off of him.

"Please!" he screamed into the room around us, trying to make me do something to make the pounding stop and find the peak he so craved to jump from. Knowing he needed this to be quick, and knowing I had to find some way to get what I wanted, I sat up, ignoring the pain his hand fisted in my hair caused me. "W-what are you do-doing?" he gasped breathlessly as I swiped my lips with my tongue and sat on my knees, hands on top of them. "I n-need you." He had tears in his eyes from his need, and I knew that he was more riled up than normal from having been woken to this.

"Please?" I asked, and I knew he knew exactly what I wanted when his face became a dark frown.

"You know I can't." I sunk in disappointment and he continued in a rushed tone. "I can't chance hurting you again, not after how you cried when I rubbed the oil on your back, or how you limped around the nest for almost a week after. I can't. Not when you mean everything to me."

He sat up and rubbed his hand against my cheek, and I couldn't help pushing into it, whimpering. "Please," I cried to him at a whisper, still keeping my hands on my knees. "I need this. I trust you."

He stared into my needy eyes and saw how much I truly needed what he could give me, and he sighed to show me he would relent to my request. "Fine..." he sighed in exasperation, "but only if you finish what you started first." He then pointed to himself and flopped back down on the bed.

Instead of voicing my agreement to his stipulations, I decided to show him by leaning down and continuing what I started. I heard a loud gasp through his teeth as his body shook in the bed and his hands flew to my hair once more. He continued to voice his pleasure, becoming louder and louder the closer he got to his piece of bliss, and all of a sudden, he tried to pull me away. "St-stop!" I refused, and he cried before pulling me down on him by my hair and bringing his control crumbling down before sitting back up.

Pulling me up to face him, he slammed my mouth to his and made my skin buzz more than it already was. He then trailed his hand along my sensitized flesh, dragging a whimper from my mouth. He growled into my ear as he sat up, taking me with him. "Give me your hands. We have to make this as quick as possible, cause we have a lot to do before dinner." I nodded and held out my hands, letting him tie around my wrists two of the four cords he had put around his knees as soon as he got back to our room.

He swiftly tied my hands and then helped me to stand while he remained on the bed, pulling me between his legs and tied them around my ankles. I was led from the bed once he was done and brought to the closet door, just like last time, and tied to the hooks and nails around the door. I was spread as if for the blood eagle, and then, he stepped back and grabbed his whip.

Unlike last time, the first strike was accompanied with a slight burn. It wasn't bad, and it faded before the next strike hit, but it did shock me. He wasn't kidding when he said it would be quick. I had a low, comfortable burn in my back when first he spoke, and it just made me hotter. "You look so beautiful like that," he said in a slight growl. "The way your body begs for more, and you moaning and crying the name my father gave me." Odd. I hadn't realized I had been speaking. "I'm not a hiccup anymore, am I mother? I'm your big, strong boy, and the only wan who can make you squirm."

He was right. He was the only one who could make my skin crawl with need, make my cry with longing, and make me fall apart in his grasp. Even when he was still a child, when I knew it was wrong to love him as much as I did, even though I never saw us like this till he turned thirteen and started to subtly change, he was the only one who could make me fall apart. Every fall, every scrape, every bruise, it always caused me to fall to my knees and fall apart. The spring of his thirteenth birthday, I found myself longing for something more than what I could ever ask of him, and it scared me. I knew I could never poison my beloved son that way, but when he got hurt facing off against that dragon, and he kissed me on the lips when he woke up, I couldn't allow myself to hope, and now look at us. I was standing here, in the middle of our closet doorway, wearing what I was born in while I let him make me scream in joy. I was falling apart for him again, even though he was being much harsher than last time.

The strikes got harsher and harsher, but as time went on, I felt them less and less. I couldn't even hear what he was saying anymore. Only the sound of my moans and his voice reached my ears, and even then, all it was was his animalistic growls as he continually struck his claw across my back. All I could see was his naked form throwing the whip over my prone body in my mind's eye. I was starting to lose myself. My mind was a blank slate under his hands and he was coloring it with the feel of his warmth and comfort and peace. I was lost to him, mind, body and soul... and then it all went white.

~~~End~~~

I vaguely remember his body pressing against my pack and one of his arms wrapping around my thin waist. My arms fell, limp, by my side before he pulled me up in his arms. I remember movement, though if you asked me where, I couldn't tell you, and he lay me down on something soft and warm as I shivered in my heat. He rubbed my back with something, though I have no clue what, and then he pulled me close to his chest where I felt safe and warm. I loved this feeling, the feeling I had been longing for since the first time, those two years ago. Peace. Mindlessness. Bliss.

I must be sick for having enjoyed this. the weight of the whip on my back, the sound of my son's voice telling me that he was enjoying it too. It should have made me sick to think about it, but it doesn't. I wanted this as much as he did and he wanted this as much as I did. If Stoick found out about this, he would kill us... but Stoick's not here. He is hundreds of miles away in a village that thinks us dead, that gave up on us when Cloud liberated us from the life we would have lived among those barbarians and their ways. No, they are not here. They don't know what is going on between us, and they most likely never will. This is our home now. Not Berk, not the Barbaric Archipelago. Here is our home, with our dragons and the Bewilderbeast, and it is here where their ideals cannot reach us and our love for each other. All we have to do is stay here, and we will never be separated.

"Make love to me?" I felt my son jump beneath me, and I knew he was just as surprised as I was about my request.

"Do what?"

"Please, make love to me?" I asked again, clearer this time. "I don't care that I am your mother. I don't care that the girls will be waiting for us for dinner. I don't care that your Father would kill us if he ever knew. I don't care about any of that. All I care about is you, so please, make love to me."

He nuzzled his face into my hair, causing it to fall out of it's bun even further, but I didn't care. All I cared about was him. "Are you sure? You are getting close to your fertile time."

"I'm sure. Odds are, I can no longer concieve anyway, and even if I could, I don't care. all I want is you. All I NEED is you. Please, make love to me and give me everything. All that you have been scared to hive me before for fear of hurting me, I don't want you to be afraid anymore, because I know you could never cause me harm. I trust you, so trust me with all of you. Let me be your out and make love to me like you've always wanted."

~~~Smut~~~Incest~~~

He wrapped his hand around the back of my head and, pulling me up to him, kissed me with the most gentle and loving kiss I think I could ever remember him giving me. He slowly deepened the kiss as he lowered my back to the furs and gently made his way on top of me. He pulled up, and I opened my eyes to look at the most handsome young man looking back at me with absolute love in his eyes. He kissed me again, briefly this time, before looking back into my eyes and finding his way blindly and effortlessly. He stopped short and looked worriedly into my eyes, and I could tell that he was having some sort of doubts. "If your back starts to hurt, tell me and we can stop. Okay?"

I could only smile and reach up my hand to caress his lovely face before quelling his fears. "I won't need to," I whispered, and his reservations were shattered by my words. He kissed me again as he slowly began, and once he was ready, he set a slow and steady pace. My head rolled back at the unbelievable feeling of him remaking me, and his own head fell to my shoulder as he continued his pace, giving me all that either of us ever wanted. It felt increadible. We had made love several times in the past, but it never felt like this. A new fire had started within me, and I could feel it grow hotter and hotter as his pace continued, pulling me back into his oblivion, this time bringing him with me. All I could feel, all I could think, all I could breath was him. My whole world consisted of him and only him, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

I was getting close, every beat bringing out a breathy moan from our lips, Our hearts were beating in tandem, our bodies were completely in sync, and our minds were filled with only the other. Nothing outside this room mattered. It was only him, and me, and the heat of our bodies combined as one.

We were so close, so very close that it felt like I could reach out and touch it. Or was that him that I was touching? I couldn't tell. I could feel his body coil above me, and I knew he was about to find it, but so was I. He shifted his body just a little lower to the bed, and he hit it. That wonderful, sweet little spot that sent me spiraling into oblivion, and the tightening of my body brought him with me. I could feel a sharp pain as I bit down on something, sending a taste of iron to my mouth, but I didn't care what either was. I was one with my love, and he was one with me as we fell into oblivion together.

~~~End~~~

He caught himself just as he was about to drop his weight on me and pulled me on my side, where I realized that somewhere in our passion making, my legs had snaked around his back. Oh, his strong back, and the beautiful chest and abs that I just couldn't get enough of. He was truly perfect, so much so that he could have been a god in another life. I moved my arms from his absolutely marvelous chest to his shoulders and back, where I realized just what it was that I had bitten down on. I brushed my fingers across the shallow bite mark on his shoulder, and I couldn't help but be ashamed of my actions. "I'm sorry. I hurt you," I said in a pitiful voice, caressing my thumb over the top of the tiny red teeth marks that would scar his otherwise beautiful skin.

"Huh!" he laughed breathily. "Don't worry about it. I gave you one just like it," and he caressed the little pain on my shoulder that I couldn't have cared less about earlier. We truly are like the beasts we have chosen to live with, I couldn't help thinking as I nuzzled my head into his chest and he laid his head in my completely destroyed hair. I would have to wash it and put it back up before we went to dinner, but right now, I just couldn't bring myself to worry about something that seemed so far away. "I love you," he said, "and not as my mother, but as my mate. You are mine now, and I will never let you get away."

"You won't need to," I said back, "because I love you too." and with that, tangled into each other, we fell back into oblivion sleep.

It's been just over two moons since the last attack, and things have been strangely quiet. All of the tribes in the area have reported the same. For two straight moons, something that has never happened in the history of the Archipelago, there have been no raids, no fighting, and no dragon sightings whatsoever. It has made everyone on edge, myself included, and there is nothing we can do to change things. Some people thing that the dragons have finally given up, that they have left ages ago and are never coming back, but I know differently. The dragons will never give up, not until one of us is out of the picture, and until thenm, we will never know peace.

It has only become worse since the arrival of that demon man. The first sighting was three years ago at the Outcast Isles, and that was where the first girl disappeared from. we only heard a year after it happened, when more people were reporting disappearances, but it is undeniable that she was the first. The next happened almost a year later from our very own village. The female Thorston twin was taken right at the end of the last raid of the season of new life. She was last seen by her brother being carried off by a pitch black dragon with some sort of dark brown splotch on its shoulders and something shining on the last bone of its left tail fin. The next was from the Berserkers, then the Meatheads, then the Bogs, each losing a young girl who was old enough to be married off, but was not yet wed, and was not yet a maid of twenty. The girls were always taken during a raid, and shortly after, the raid would end. Two days later, when the village was done mourning, we would discover that the dragons were freed from the arenas.

It was not until the third cycle of disappearances that we got a good description of the man. The description came from the Bogs, after the raid that robbed them of their heir. In the raid, we heard, his dragon had been caught on the tail by a bola that was thrown by the young heir when the dragon had come to hover over the main village. She did not expect the dragon to come down from such a hit, for her throw was not strong and the bola was loose, but she heard a screech from the beast and a man-like call of "Shit!" before the dragon came down out of the sky. She ran up to the beast that had been tormenting our people and taking our children, only to find a man standing there, untangling the bola from it's entangled and folded fin.

Hear me now, for this is not her account of what happened, but of the only other person there. Her little sister had followed her out fo the house that night, and when she was found in the morning, the poor girl was crying and frightened and screaming that he wouldn't bring back her sister. It wasn't until days later that she was calm enough to tell of this account and what exactly has been happening to our women.

'Hang on buddy, hang on. I've almost got it. Just a little bit more,' the little girl heard from behind her crate, not more than a few strides from the beast and his master. The man was pulling and cutting at the ropes wrapped around the fins and was making quick progress when her sister approached.

'What do you think you're doing!?' the young heir had yelled at the man, pointing her short sward at him. 'Get away from that thing. It's my kill, and you can't just claim it because you think you have the right. You don't.'

'You think you're going to kill him?' The stranger laughed. Had she been paying attention as she came closer, she would have realized that this was a man in a village where men were not allowed, and that it had been the ropes he was cutting and not the dragon. Alas, she was not paying attention, and thus missed these vital facts that would have saved her life. 'Over my dead body,' the little girl heard him mumble under his breath before he spoke up to the girl. 'If anyone even tried to kill him, they would be dead in seconds.'

'I think I have a pretty good chance,' the girl said confidently. 'He hit his shot limit only moments ago freeing that four-winged dragon. The way I see it, he can only fight me hand to teath right now, and being that it can't fly, it is already dead.'

'Now that is where you're wrong,' the man claimed nonchalantly. 'I wasn't talking about him killing you. I was talking about me, and every other dragon in the area.'

That is when the young heir's attitude changed. She had realized what she had missed, and she knew that it could very well cost her life. 'Who are you!' she demanded with a frown on her face where a gleeful grin had been only moments before. 'What are you talking about, and what are you doing here!?' He threw his knife down at his feet and it cut the final rope. The dragon then shot up and growled at the girl.

'Calm down, bud,' the stranger said. 'Let's see what she's got first.' The girl charged toward him, and she swung her sword like an expert, but he dodged. She swung again, and he dodged again. He wouldn't even pick up the knife he had cut the ropes from his dragon with. He just kept dodging.

This happened several times before the four-winged dragon that he had freed earlier showed up above them. 'Time to go, Love!' a female voice calleddown from atop the beast. It was described as sounding older, but she couldn't tell how old. Hearing this, the man finally grabbed his whip from his belt and wrapped it around the girl's wrists, knocked her sword out of her right hand, and pulled her with him to his dragon. She started screaming and fighting to get free, but he was just too strong for her to handle. He easily pulled her to his dragon, pushed her over the top, and strapped the both of them to the saddle.

The four-winged dragon had now landed beside him, and the woman had hopped down to grab the girl's sword. She was older, probably about the age of the girl's mother, Big Boobied Bertha, and she had long, red-brown hair and green eyes. 'She's new,' she said nonchalantly to the young man. 'You planning on keeping this one?'

The girl's eyes widened visibly and she started to thrash in her place, slung face down over the man's lap like luggage, trying to scream through the cloth he had tied over her mouth. 'I think so.'

'Well, she is your type. Feisty. You'll have a good time breaking her in at least.' The woman hopped back on her dragon with the dragon's help and stood tall atop its head.

'Yeah, well, maybe. You know they never last long after the first time,' the boy said, checking over his gear. 'Shoot! My knife,' he muttered as he got up and ran to the lost item. The young heir started to struggle and tried to slide off, only to be growled at and reminded that she was sprawled over the top of a dragon, a Night Fury, no less. She started to growl back, if only on principle.

'Well,' the woman laughed, 'she seems like the type to not give up that easily. Her mother never would give up without a proper fight. Drove your father mad.' She looked over to him and saw that he was re-mounting his beast, now acting strangely docile with his master on his back, and spoke again. 'All good?' He nodded. 'Then let's go.' They then took off to the skies and their heir was never seen since.

It was a sad day for the Bogs, a sad day for all of the tribes, because that day, we lost a true warrior, one that could almost beat me! Now we have lost them both, and we will do anything to get them back.

"Dragons! Spotted to the East!"

"Ready the catapults and launchers!" I shout to my people. "This time, we win."

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