Triangle by lavvyan
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Uh. Strangeness?
Pairing: Betty/Emmett/Brendan (I know. I blame trinityofone
Summary: He had brought his mate before her, for what reason she could not fathom, but she liked to think that he was seeking her approval.
AN: This is a Thoughtcrimes/Boa vs. Python crossover. While you can read this story without knowing the former, you probably won't understand it if you haven't watched the latter.
Beta by Denis, broet_chan, and terribilita.
Pretty pretty cover by Smuffster!
Triangle
He was not of her kind, the one who kept her fed. The little ones he brought her often tasted eldritch. But they came regularly, and sometimes he just let them slither away so she could hunt them herself – that was reason enough to like him.
Sometimes, she let him touch her; his unguarded, soft flesh felt strange against her hard scales. She was satisfied that it seemed to make him happy – it was important to make him happy so he would keep feeding her. And it was nice, having him close enough to taste him without even flicking out her tongue. His taste was like the things his kind dug out from deep inside the earth, and sometimes a hint of fresh air. She liked that, too.
She didn't know if he had a name. In her mind, she called him Almost Snake. He called her Betty. He liked her, too, she knew it. She made him happy.
That was good.
Once, he had brought a female to her and she had thought he'd finally picked a mate. She hadn't been sure if she liked that thought, and she certainly hadn't liked her, the one whose scent tasted like water and fear. Because Water had made him do something to her, something that had hurt and clouded her thoughts. She was convinced that if only she had been able to think, she could have saved her children. But she hadn't, and she blamed Water for that. Not him, though. Never him.
Soon enough, Water had disappeared from their lives, and it had been only her and Almost Snake again. At first, he had been subdued and a little unhappy, but he had been hers; she had cheered him up as best she could.
It was all right. He was hers, and she was his. It was the way.
Lately, though, he had been different, full of energy like a young one might have been. The air around him had tasted differently, too, holding a hint of smoke and ghosts. She had known, then, that he had picked a new mate. Not a female, though, and that surprised her a little. She had thought that his kind, too, cared about procreation.
Then again, her one brief day of freedom had shown her that his kind was legion. Perhaps Almost Snake had decided that he needn't procreate.
It made her a little sad, though – everybody should have young ones.
But now was not the time to ponder that. He had brought his mate before her, for what reason she could not fathom, but she liked to think that he was seeking her approval.
This new mate was a dark one where Water had been light. His scent was heady now, smoke and sweat, faint traces of blood. It made her nervous.
Smoke eyed her warily as she slid over to him, took care to stand between her and Almost Snake. When she flicked out her tongue, he reeked of mistrust and protectiveness.
She wasn't sure if it was appropriate to feel angry, but she did. It wasn't Smoke's place to protect Almost Snake and make him happy. That path was hers to follow.
Smoke's face was inches from hers, and she flicked out her tongue again, briefly tasting his flesh. She could kill him right now, devour him and taste his blood, or choke his frail body and leave his remains for Almost Snake to mourn. She would be forgiven, eventually.
She was loved.
Almost Snake tasted a little nervous, now, and she did not like that. Did not like that he might be afraid of her, of what she could do.
He was hers, she was his, and apparently, Smoke was his as well. She had been able to tolerate Water, she would get used to Smoke.
If he ever hurt what was hers, she would kill him faster than he could point that silly little thing that bit.
Her scales brushed his hand as she slid to Almost Snake, acknowledgement and warning. Almost Snake briefly touched her head; then she left them behind, him and his mate, to curl up by the small waterhole.
She was theirs, and they were hers. She only hoped the new one would feed her, too.
~~~
Um. This seems to be the month of weird POVs. Sorry.