Fire Meets Fate

[Anjali Raskor]

While Anjali was an attentive and skilled lover; she had realized earlier in the forest that Cearia was the first inexperienced partner she had. While it changed nothing about how she felt for the huntress, and how deep her desire ran; she realized that she had to adjust to the other brunette's needs and wants. It was ironically a new experience for the Clan Mother as well. She enjoyed spending lengthy amounts of time being intimate with a lover; but she could also be very fierce and demanding. She had been honest with Cearia at all times; but even now as they were in the privacy of the caves, she had to still herself not to simply undress the huntress with urgent want.

It was tempting, oh so tempting, especially as she could experience her mate's body underneath her own, her hands now free to roam over her at greater length.

Anjali was eager to sate Cearia's appetites, even as they seemingly began to unravel, given the reactions she was getting out of her. The Night Sister shifted her position, so her hands could slither under the garments covering the huntress's upper body. Her hands gently but firmly caressed her mate's sides. The enticing uncharted territory that Cearia was made it difficult for the Clan Mother to reign her lust in; but she wanted to make sure she wasn't pressuring her into doing anything she wasn't willing or ready for.

She might be a ruthless leader; but her tender and loving side came to life under the right circumstances, and the right partner.

[Cearia Tserta]

She panted with surprise as Anjali's hands eagerly found a way to get under her layered clothing to touch bare skin. Hands and mouth were upon her, slow and yearning warring for dominance. Cearia could feel how the Clan Mother's fingers curled against her, nails lightly digging into her flesh. Or how she tugged at her garb ever so carefully, struggling to maintain the lust she felt towards the hunter. Cearia thought it admirable that Anjali was going out of her way to be gentle and caring towards her. The Clan Mother didn't have to and it made her wonder just how profound their bond had been made. She could easily take what she wanted, and Anjali had every right to claim Cearia how she saw fit.

Cearia really couldn't comprehend it all. Anjali answered her question why Cearia was her chosen mate, but she still didn't understand why her? Perhaps she was too quick to say she did.

With a soft gasp, she then bit her lower lip as she tried to fight another whimper and tugged at Anjali's hair with struggle. There were several feelings converging with this situation. It was all new to her, being wanted despite being mundane compared to Anjali's prospects with the clan. Cearia still felt deep inside she was not worthy enough to be here. It was baseless insecurity.

There was a deep need to please Anjali and she felt utterly useless laying here. This is where her insecurity flourished. What the hell was she to do? Give her a spear, she'd fill nets of fresh burra fish. Hand her a bow and arrow, she'd take down a bolma. Give her the lust of a Clan Mother? She was dumbfounded what to do! She rather be challenged to a fight because at least she knew how to navigate that dance!

[Anjali Raskor]

While Anjali was keen on continuing what she had begun, encouraged by Cearia's compliance and especially the few pleased sounds she had elicited from her; she sensed that certain things were still at play, potentially bothering her mate. Tension subtly mingling with what she otherwise perceived as eagerness, the Beast Warden chose against her personal desires.

Still close to the huntress, she stopped in undressing her further, and she slid to lie down by Cearia. She kept one arm around her, gently pressing against her side. She then propped her elbow up and rested her head against her hand, as she looked at the other brunette, wanting to speak as they were on the same eye level. While naturally dominant in many aspects of her life, it mattered to her that Cearia felt her participation and input in their relationship was equally important. She might be Clan Mother to all, including the huntress, but her perspective on the bond she was forming with her mate had different rules.

"You remind me a lot of the baby fliers right now," she observed quietly, for there was this enthusiasm blended with uncertainty in her mate.

[Cearia Tserta]

Gauntlets and shoulder pads had been unfastened and discarded, her waist belt long peeled away so all that was left on Cearia's upper body was the thick black sweater crumpled atop her breasts, still covered by a thin cream colored cloth. If her mate wanted to continue things further, the hunter would have to shift her arms or Anjali would have to change her tactics and go lower.

Neither happened. Cearia watch with perplexity as Anjali just stopped and lay beside her. Had she done something wrong? She mentally cursed that at her lack of participation had displeased her Clan Mother. Heart beat with shame despite her mind knowing that it was foolish to believe that Anjali was anything but understanding towards her. How could her leader hold her gently with such a kind, compassionate, gaze?

Anjali's comparing her to the baby fliers puzzled her and it showed on her face. Her neck flexed with agitation as the hunter pondered this. Their lives had just gone through a major change today. They were uprooted from what they knew was home, was they had believed was safe, for their own betterment. They would have died without the help of the two women laying here. They were scared but there was also this underlying curiosity to where they lived now under the watch gave of the Anjali's loyal voritor.

Cearia could see the similarities. Her entire life was uprooted, as were all the brothers and sisters of the Undead Fires who survived and worked together for survival. No longer was she the newly minted non-Force sensitive nightsister hunter. She was Cearia Tserta, the last of her former clan and name, lead hunter of the Undead Fires and chosen mate of the Clan Mother. The baby fliers had only a day of their new life and it would take adjusting, whereas Cearia's journey towards this path truly started weeks ago.

"The fliers are worthy to be here. In the caves ... with you and Iss-Ka. Other Beast Wardens," she said softly, cheeks still pink from Anjali's touches. "I still feel as though I do not, Clan Mother."

She felt raw with such admittance and weakly looked away, unable to face her leader.

[Anjali Raskor]

While Anjali had developed her Force potential since a young age, the way she had always been rooted in the physical world, special powers or not, made her appreciate tangible interaction as she had with the huntress. She had heard talks of some witches having uncanny bonds with their partner, also Force-sensitive; but the Clan Mother didn't long after that. She knew that the connection she had with Cearia didn't need that to be special. She had found herself not pushing with her extra senses to get a read of her mate. She was proud of all her gifts and her abilities to build significant bonds with many creatures and wield certain powers, besides her leadership skills; but she also had a deep appreciation for connection that needed no frills and ran on what transpired physically and verbally between individuals.

She saw the puzzled look on Cearia's face when she made a comparison between her and the fliers; but she didn't say nothing, basking in the silence. While not an easy one, for she could tell something was weighing on the huntress's mind, Anjali chose to give space and time for her mate to address whatever she wished to.

The Clan Mother waited until Cearia spoke. She wanted to be surprised by the admission; but she wasn't as shocked as she thought she could be. Somehow it made sense, even though she vehemently disagreed with her mate's opinion.

She wanted to reach out for the huntress to look at her, but she simply kept her hand on Cearia's waist.

"My words might not be enough to make you see why I chose you; but is there anything else that would help assuage your doubts?"

[Cearia Tserta]

With a deep sigh, Cearia reached up to clasp Anjali's arm that was around her.

"I know you don't lie to me. I do trust you, Clan Mother." She squeezed her arm. "I just ..."

Her lips pressed tightly together with frustration because anyone else would revel in being chosen by Anjali. Instead years of tradition that was beaten into her brain had created intense doubt.

"I don't know." She shifted closer to her but dare not look at Anjali - instead tucking her head against the furs. It provided a thin barrier between them that kept the hunter's face partially hidden.

"Perhaps I'll never feel worthy."

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali was heartbroken over whatever traditions might have unraveled in Cearia's birth clan. She understood that the Undead Fires had brought together a common core but with a myriad of variations.

The fact that the huntress nevertheless reached out to her, and shifted closer, despite not looking at her, was nevertheless something the Night Sister chose to read as a positive sign. They were both survivors and they viscerally knew that life had significant challenges. Anjali hadn't expected their relationship to be one of them; but she nevertheless understood that things were likely easier from her standpoint.

"I don't want you to feel pressured into this. Your interest and enjoyment matter to me."

[Cearia Tserta]

Cearia closed her eyes. "When it was just us and Iss-Ka at the canyon, it felt like we were the only survivors. Sounds ... naive. Even stupid, but it was how I felt. It was easy to answer you and accept your offer because it is what I wanted. What I still want."

She smiled fondly at just hours prior of Anjali making her intentions known, kissing her, pouncing her in the grass. As she opened her eyes, reality came crashing down as she glanced at the Clan Mother's comfortable quarters, and the joy that Anjali heard in Cearia's voice became hardened.

"Coming home reminded me of who you are. What it means to be your chosen." She toyed with one of Anjali's belt loops, touching her in tentative exploration. "I told you I know my worth. But that wars with what I felt was my place here."

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali smiled at Cearia's comment that being her mate was still what she wanted. She agreed that the moment they had shared in the forest had had a unique quality. It had felt like a moment outside of time where only they existed. But as the huntress explained, returning to camp was a call back to reality.

While the Clan Mother had all confidence in her ability to lead her people, she didn't know what Cearia's experience might be as her mate. She was on the easy side of inner politics and interactions she guessed.

She noticed Cearia's toying with one of her belt loops, appreciating that her mate still felt compelled to physically reach out to her.

"You had earned your place as our lead huntress even before I fell in love with you."

She paused, looking at her mate for a moment.

"I don't know how others will relate to you as my mate; but I have trust in your ability to handle it, and not just because you are often away to hunt for the Clan."

[Cearia Tserta]

Anjali's admission had dulled Cearia's hearing. Normally an attentive listener, for it was vital to her calling as a hunter, Cearia was only vaguely aware that her leader was still talking. Her brain was too busy processing that she was loved. Not the love of familial ties where affection was freely given despite Cearia's limitations with the Force. Her mother and sisters adored her, feeling that she rose above all expectations to what she could accomplished. Anyone else tolerated her presence because she had mundane worth. Food was necessary, so Cearia had a place.

That was imperative now in these days after the cataclysm, thus allowing Cearia's skills to bring honor to her new people. She felt validated in helping the hungry to eat and to teach the young witches and nightbrothers how to hunt. It allowed her to thrive and get noticed, when being noticed was the last thing on her mind.

Her head abruptly shot up after Anjali had finished, hand tugging at the belt she was toying with and stared deeply into her eyes. "You love me."

It was stated as fact, not in question, and it awed her.

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali had learned to speak about how she felt when she had had to raise her two younger sisters after their mother got killed many years ago. The cataclysm could have hardened her heart with all the losses; but instead she wanted to take every day as a blessing, and not just a given. This was why she had expressed her interest in Cearia, and why she had just been honest with her about the fact that yes, she did indeed love her. She had faith it would grow and make her current sentiment but a spark compared to what their bond might become; but she had to put it out in the open.

Her mate's reaction took her by surprise; and she held the huntress's gaze. The shock on her face was visible; but the Clan Mother found solace in how Cearia's next words were a statement instead of a question.

"I do, Cearia."

She reached up to gently rest her hand against the side of her mate's face.

"I love you."

[Cearia Tserta]

This brought her back to the canyon when Anjali had gently cupped her face before their first kiss. That anticipation pooled into the pit of her stomach once more, but it wasn't quite as potent when she had first been touched. She realized something profound as the moment lingered. It wouldn't have mattered what Anjali was to the Undead Fires - a leader, a mystic, a hunter like her, or everything in between - Cearia wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Or with anyone else. Her fears were still there, but they had been quieted by the affirmation, at least for now.

She leaned into Anjali's hand, eyes still completely fixated on her leader's. "You honor me once again, Clan Mother."

Eyes briefly closed, mustering up courage to what she wanted to do next. With a determination that Anjali had seen numerous times since Cearia had joined the clan through successful hunts and rescuing the fliers, the hunter let go of her belt and reached up to touch her face.

It may not yet be love that Cearia had for Anjali, but the devotion she felt for the other woman couldn't be denied as she pulled her mate down so lips could meet.

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali remembered how Cearia had stiffened under her touch in the past, even though she had surrendered to it at other moments. How her mate leaned into her touch warmed her heart, and comforted her in the decision to let her heart's inclinations be known. While they were safe compared to the times of the cataclysm, the Clan Mother knew that tomorrow was never guaranteed and she didn't want to live a life of regret. Taking steps to take Cearia as her mate had been a good decision.

The determined expression on the huntress's face intrigued the Beast Warden. She had seen it many times before, but never in the privacy of their shared chamber.

When Cearia touched her face, brief surprised passed across Anjali's features before she smiled. And her mate took her by even greater surprised as he pulled her down. The Clan Mother leaned on top of Cearia as their lips met into what began as a tender kiss, speaking of the deepening bond between them.

Anjali was lost in the moment and their embrace and didn't realize the interruption until they could both hear the cries of a baby flier. The Clan Mother looked over her shoulder and saw Iss-Ka gently carrying the blue baby flier, giving a look at her mistress.

The Beast Warden reluctantly pried herself from her mate, kneeling by her side on the furs. On cue, the Voritor lizard delicately placed the baby flier by Cearia's side, the little blue creature suddenly cawing as it nuzzled the huntress's thigh.

[Cearia Tserta]

Cearia embraced her escalating passion, pleased that Anjali had returned above her before doubts had been sensed. The talk was desperately needed and it was a good one, allowing Cearia to accept her place at the Clan Mother's side, feeling that her affections would match Anajli's in time.

Her mate's hands soon became eager, tugging at her top once more to bring them back to where passions paused. Fingers became braver, exploring what skin was bare before they slid along the length of Anjali's back, boldly pushing their bodies together.

Then came the cries of the baby blue flier - Cearia immediately recognized its voice.

Lips parted, wondering how Anjali felt about the interruption as her mate shifted off of her and allowed Iss-Ka closer. Cearia rolled to a sitting position, tugging at her disheveled sweater, as the flier was given to her. She tilted her head with confusion as the cries turned to soft squawks, the little baby trying to burrow its way under her leg.

"I'm not a nest, yongon." Cearia was firm, despite the term of endearment used on the baby flier, and cupped her hand to lift it up so they were eye level. "Why are we distressed?"

The answer was flapping its leathery wings before stomping around in a tight circle. It cawed one last time before snuggling atop her hand, settling in comfortably.

"I thought I made it clear I wasn't a nest," she huffed.

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali wished Cearia and her could have just carried on with enjoying each other's company and explore each other, especially now that their talk had assuaged her mate's concerns for the time being. Obviously, Iss-Ka had decided otherwise. And as much as she understood her beast's decision, and found it wise, she couldn't help the annoyance creeping in her mind and body. She marveled at the Voritor's maternal instincts even with a species that wasn't her own, but timing was quite poor.

Iss-Ka glared back at her and pointed her tail towards the baby flier that managed to relax thanks to Cearia. The lizard had a point; but the Clan Mother was still slightly annoyed in a rather petty way.

Yet she realized that Iss-Ka's decision was only proving further her inkling that Cearia and the blue baby flier were already bonding. It was a lovely sight to behold, even though it had interrupted their intimate moment.

She chuckled at her mate's words about not being a nest.

"Anha think jin naqis flier disagrees," she said with a smile in her voice.

"Fin jin asshekh hasn't ray been full ki surprises enough, me ajjin obvious rek jin naqis ato et ray chosen mae sajak."

There was a chance that Cearia disagreed and argued she hadn't been chosen by the flier yet; but the Beast Warden knew better in this case. So did Iss-Ka.

[Cearia Tserta]

Her nose curled in annoyance at the baby. "I can't hold you all night. My arms are strong. Like roots, but I am no tree yongon."

Cearia found herself smiling towards Anjali, picking up the dialect of her Clan Mother's previous clan. It was interesting to the young hunter the similarities, the selective nuances that bound the Dathomir witches as a people. She may not understand everything Anjali said, but she could piece the dialogue together. It was curious how she slipped into the old tongue. The Undead Fires had no special dialect, using the most common form of Dathomiri to speak to one another for ease.

"Strik won needs kom learn," she countered, eying the sleeping interloper, curious if Anjali was familiar with the Red Hills Clan dialect.

The disarming smile on Anjali's face distracted the hunter, finding it beautiful and calming until Cearia's face contorted into displeasure.

"Yu tu laik plotting gon me." She jut a finger out at the baby flier, startling it awake and it snapped its beak in a tiny, sleepy yawn. "Bilaik includes yu seintaim."

[Anjali Raskor]

Watching the scene between Cearia and the baby flier, as well as Iss-Ka's intense watch made Anjali appreciate all the blessings that the gods had given her both as clan leader and on a personal level. The Undead Fires were thriving in spite of all the trials fate had plagued its members with. She was proud of what they had been accomplishing. That pride included the beautiful and skilled woman holding the baby flier in front of her, the clan's lead huntress, and her mate. While the Clan Mother had known she would continue the Raskor line, she hadn't expected or planned for a mate to share her bed and life; but here was Cearia; and she was grateful for her.

She chuckled as Cearia continued to speak her birth dialect, surprised she had herself reverted back to her own mother tongue.

"It will learn, slowly but surely," she responded as Cearia was attempting to clarify a few things to the sleepy baby flier, who seemed perfectly content to be held by his chosen rider.

She shifted closer to Cearia, leaving a kiss on her neck before resting her chin on her mate's shoulder.

"Iss-ka akka anha hash vo jin ones fin qaf ha yer. Jin naqis ato tat."

She hadn't spoken her birth dialect much and had never heard the huntress use her own. It was interesting how they were both able to pick on certain things thanks to what had bound all the Dathomiri specific dialects.

"Iss-Ka," she commanded leaving no room for argument. The Voritor came closer, head low as she watched her mistress.

"Take jin baby irge tat mae nest."

Iss-Ka then extended her head over the huntress's palm that held the baby flier, waiting for her agreement to retrieve it so both women could have some privacy again.

[Cearia Tserta]

She grunted at both Anjali and Iss-Ka, co-conspirators in having Cearia accept her potential. They have shifted their tactics from plain explanations of becoming a Beast Warden to teasing the hunter about it. Her arguments and doubts were losing footing due to the little baby pecking at her thumb. With a sigh, she caressed it's tiny beak. There was much she had to consider.

"Yu laik the cause gon many questions, yongon."

The soft press of lips upon her neck and Anjali cuddling against her honored Cearia to be the chosen for those affections.

When Iss-Ka bowed her head, she gently cupped the flier with both hands and parted them so the little yongon would be carefully perched atop the voritor's head. With soft caresses of the thumb it had been toying with, Cearia stroked the little one from head to tail to calm him like before.

"Rest, yongon."

Red eyes blinked in defiance before its head lolled over to sleep, succumbing to Cearia's ministrations.

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali understood that whatever she would say about Cearia exhibiting beast warden talents, even though she wasn't Force sensitive, would encounter a wall of disagreement. While special mystical talents definitely enhanced a Beast Warden's abilities, it wasn't the basis for such paths. One of the most estimated Beast Wardens in the Lavender Rift was like Cearia; and she wasn't to be trifled with and taught three generations of Wardens over many decades. While Anjali hadn't benefited much from her tutelage for the older Sister passed away when she was only a child, she had a few vivid memories of that woman.

The Clan Mother nevertheless believed that due to the already fledgling bond between the baby flier and her mate, that the huntress would come to realize that Iss-Ka and her weren't so conspiring against her, as admitting to more talents Cearia possessed. Time would tell, but Anjali knew that the blue little one wouldn't let the huntress get away with denying her Beast Warden abilities forever.

She smiled as she watched the scene as Cearia placed the little one atop Iss-Ka's head, the flier falling asleep almost immediately. The Voritor looked very satisfied. Anjali clicked her tongue and the lizard hissed slowly and almost in a whisper as if not to wake her precious charge. Slowly, Iss-Ka departed the room, ensuring the heavy curtains were back in place with a slow swat of her tail.