Title: Answers
Author: pre_raphaelite1
Characters/Pairings: Cedric/Sphinx
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Chosen: cuffs
Other Warnings: Bestiality (sort of? A sentient Magical Being, anyway), oral sex, outdoor sex
Word Count: 1325
Summary/Description: Cedric encounters the sphinx during the last task.
Author's Notes: So I got this amazing image of a sphinx in decorative gold cuffs then I got caught up in the shiny of bestiality then the purple of sphinx-ish-ness... and I very nearly forgot the cuffs and thereby this month's required kink. :P



It took longer than she expected, for him to find her. She didn't think she was too far away, but she knew just where she was and that tends to alter perspective a little.

He approached her cautiously, wand clutched in his hand, frantic eyes searching over her. Looking for answers, for permission. And he would find them, if he was as smart as she hoped, smart enough to make the more interesting choice.

“You have a long path ahead of you. The fastest way to your goal is through me.”

She watched the boy's eyebrows shoot up in surprise and he leaned to one side to see past her, apparently unaware of what lay behind her.

He nodded, recalculating visibly. “All right. May I pass?”

Amused, she smiled back at him. “Do you think it is so easy? To ask and be granted? No, young badger, it is not so unenchanted.”

“Tell me how then. Please.”

This was certainly not what she expected from the race of his heart or the flush of his cheeks. A polite request and not a demand or a threat. Which meant she was less likely to get what she wanted from this one. That was far easier with those who were more physical beings, those less capable of thinking beyond fight, flight, defend, attack.

“You are the first to cross this path,” she explained, and it was true. She only arrived on this particular path about five minutes ago. “So a choice I will give. A riddle or a task? Either will gain you entrance to what you seek, but the task will give you double of each.”

He opened his mouth then closed it again then grinned, a charming, boyish thing. “That sounds like a riddle too. So you'll either give me one riddle and a task or two riddles.”

His answer, or perhaps it was his grin, drew forth a quiet purr from within her chest. “Indeed it is. And for such wisdom will come my aid. Chose the task to end my blockade.”

Smart enough to be suspicious, he hesitated at her suggestion, considered it, then decided. “The task then.”

She rose up from her stately repose with a quiet jangle of the wide enameled cuffs above each large paw, all four crowned with glittering gold and geometric blue. Then she closed the distance between them, cautious enough of the raise of his wand, but not fearful. “I am no siren to lure you to your death.” And she tipped her mouth to his, lips slipping softly over his. She laughed quietly, pleased by the startled gasp he made, the way he stumbled back from her, the undignified shout as he tripped over a convenient vine, and the dull thump as his arse hit the ground. She stepped over his legs, bent down to him, and kissed him again.

It was a groan this time, and his mouth parted to hers. Not so intellectual then as to be without strength, without body that had need and rush and want. She slid her tongue, silvered and slick, into his mouth to taste the answers there that wouldn't be given and to demand her due. He shuddered below her, his hand lifting to press now empty fingers through her full mane, curling and turning into it, demonstrating how caught he was now in the unuttered enigma he must now act to solve, or be trapped here, under her, wanting her.

Deeper she stroked his tongue, closer she pressed his body to the ground, and more eager he responded to her. His moans curled around her, while his tongue turned with hers, lapping at the words held there. She could feel him rising to her, the mesh of his body against hers, the hardness of his want, the length of his answer, against the soft fur of her belly. Her low purr startled him again, but there was no fear in this response; only surprise and pleasure. She continued the steady rumble that made both their bodies quiver together.

His eyes stayed closed long after she ended the kiss; but his lips made up for the lack of sight, parted to taste the world and the intimate knowledge of the breath that was caught and lost between them. She exhaled gently and his eyelashes fluttered, opening just as little as his mouth closed; and in the lift of his head, the seeking of her, the stretching rise of his chest, he seemed to not want any other source of air than her.

It was time.

She moved a few paces back, the ring of metal on metal lightly chiming with each step. Then she turned from him and stopped, drawing her tail to one side and revealing the fullness of her entrance. Time was measured in possibility, in heartbeats, in the creaking churn of a turning mind. But it was short enough; he was quick enough, soon behind her. Trembling, reverent fingers were raised then placed on her. The ready glide of them proved what she knew, what she felt already: she was slick, ready, impatient. Then his mouth was on her, murmuring silently over her flesh, licking and tracing her shape, finding the edge where soft fur began and spread into golden haunches. He didn't stop there, only brushed his face along the powerful curve before returning and delving into her with his tongue, questing as far as he could in quick bursts then long sweeps, his breath growing more ragged as it rushed over the tighter pucker above.

She heard the opening of his zip, even over the constant drone of her purr, though she expected the boy heard nothing, lost in the race his pulse seemed to be having with itself. Turning her head, she looked at him, read the desire on his face and the determined pleading in his eyes. She smiled, her sharply tipped eyes half-lidded, waiting, but not for long. He pushed into her, no hesitance in this return, and immediately began to thrust, a quick hammering of the odd blankness of his skin against the richness of her own, but not cool as she used to expect. Heated, thrumming with life, burning with a million questions and never enough answers, never enough solutions or knowledge or time to know or solve all that she could query or offer or demand. But it was enough for now, for this moment, for this exchange. And when he bent over her strong body, ran his fingers along the hidden line of small dark nipples, buried his face into the thick lushness of her fur, she claimed her answer from him, shuddering and clenching in primal signs, in words and utterances closer to the truth than men and spiders could ever come. But he knew this, knew what they meant, and gave himself to it, to her, spilling himself deep within her without a sound.

There is a power in this kind of silence, a heavy satisfaction; no floundering loss or dismal emptiness or foolish incomprehension. A power that speaks for itself, that fills and proves and solves. One that changes.

So when he paused at the second entrance she has allowed him and looked back at her, she was not surprised to see quiet purpose in his face. It took him another moment before he spoke, but speak he did. “I didn't even ask your name.”

“You did not, but neither will you ask. You still have much yet before you in your last task.”

“I figured. Just hoped I might get an answer and not another riddle.” His mouth twisted in wry understanding. “But thanks. Really. For... all of it.”

She watched him turn to the left then disappear into the hedges once more and she shook her head. “You are not yet done with Riddles, Cedric Diggory.”