Magic was an interesting thing indeed. Since his birth, oh so long ago, Draconis and felt the touch of magic. Some learned magic. Some were born with it. Draconis, going in recent years by the name Z'ev Zayveon, had it twisted upon his soul. The very fabric of his being' was a complex mingling of flesh and magic. Through his early years he'd practiced and practiced to control that which grew with in. Duties of old seemed long lost. Ancient. The mask that was the human form had been used for more years then some could count. Many upon the lands were easier to speak with when they found a human form, rather then that of creature. Very few about today, had seen of his true form. Had seen a height of not a little over six foot, but one over eight. Had seen those scales of red. Seen that long tail of his. Those clawed fingertips. That very distinct draconic like snout.

Some say Draconians were among some of the first. As old as the dragons, if not older. Once they were many and bold, strong. Now, it truly was hard to find one. Humans and Elves. Dwarves and Goblins. Orks and Ogres. So many other species had popped up and filled the lands with their kin. Draconis... Zayveon, held more then a few children. They were all grown now though. In truth, he held that of daughters only. Over the years, his sons were lost along the path of life. Wars all but gobbled them up. Not to say he didn't lose a daughter or two to such as well. Each daughter was unique in their own way. A few, even held to that of wings of some sort. He'd hoped a family secret was hidden away and not past along through his children. To this day, only two of his children had shown signs of holding such a secret. Something past down from Zayveon's great grandfather, who had not been pure Draconian. So far, he'd been able to keep such a secret buried away even better then that of his true form. Buried, he'd hoped to keep it.

Breath came calm and quiet from him. Sleep was savored and a welcome thing. There were matters upon the Lysandros Syndicate that needed tending to. A few things to tie up. But not this past night, nor the following morning. Everyone needed time away from work. Time away from the things at hand. An escape, if you will. The Gypsy had proven to be quite the fireside companion. Talking hand bloomed into something more. Old habits die hard they say. Zayveon often could tell what races, who was about by their scent upon the air. Each race held it's own, just as each person did in turn their own unique scent. The Gypsy held a unique scent all her own. Such things were hard to put into words at times. Her hair held his attention, as that of something in her eyes. His dreams were less chaotic as of late. A good thing for the population. Given it was a year.. perhaps two ago that upon a nightmare the winds upon the glen had picked up and caused a bit of damage.

A hand flexed against a pillow. Breathing caught slow and even. Like out of instinct, hands would slip forth and arms would encircle of the Gypsy's form. A brief moment or two before eyes would perk open, slow and measured. That faint draconic growl played along his throat. An intake of breath, taking her scent in. His lips nuzzled against the side of her neck, just below her ear. "Greetings, my Gypsy. Sleep well, Lilliana?" His body held an odd warmth to it. So many were curious as to it's origin. Curious of the odd warmth felt from a shaking of his hand, healing touch of his fingertips. Was it from his soul's mixing upon magic? Was it from his hidden Draconian form? Or was it something else, deep and buried that caused his flesh to warm like a summer's day.

"Let's linger here for a spell, Lilliana? Just for a bit before the day calls us away."

Zayveon looked out over the vast land of ice and snow. His castle upon the deep south was riddled with it. For miles around there seemed nothing but ice and snow. Frozen lakes, barren lands of nothing but cold. Below the surface laid more. More then anyone would more then likely come to know. Zayveon knew what laid below the ice ridden ground. What lay in the warm caves below ground.

He turned his gaze back toward the crackling fire upon the hearth. His tail slowly shifted out and to the side in a gentle sweep. Long and scaled, it was a rare thing to be seen. The human mask was worn now a days. Worn in public. But here, here upon his family's home of ice and snow, here he was free to walk the halls upon his birth right as a Draconian. Clawed fingertips moved over a large book upon a table made of oak. One of many books that made up a collection of the years, decades come and gone. Memories of his life.

Slowly ink would be taken, laid to a new page upon this book before him. Words would come forth. The tale of meeting a Gypsy. Time beside a warm fire shared.

Zayveon gave pause and glanced over toward the hearth. He watched the flicker of flames held with in. A light shake of his head with an almost smile to perk at his snout. "Time to return to the city. I've a Gypsy to see."

As they finished moving up the stairs, their steps echoed mutely down the hallway, their path familiar. Z?ev?s smile held nothing but a tender light for his gypsy, caught as always by the soft fire in her eyes, She'd had a few rough nights it sounded like, and he wasn't going to bother her with questions. Those could always be asked at a later date. Though the witch thought herself a clever, capable creature like all independent folks, Lilliana also held my small, albeit endearing flaws. Placing one?s self on pedestals of impossible expectations, extending reaches too far, caring too deeply, worrying too gravely; these were so many of the little defects she habored in a nutshell. Though the gypsy would never admit or fully know the extent of her silliness, her family could and often did crow on them. Many people catered to similar problems in all fairness, but here and now, the draconian wished for nothing more than to take that uncomely weight away from his tired lover. All that would begin with the press of a hand to the door.

As the door creaked open the warmth from a crackling fireplace was given allowance and bathed across their closely curled forms. Only a single candle served as further light aside from the pop and snap of the hearth, it?s dim, flickering light spilt from across the room on a high shelf. The dim light left the wide sprawl of his four-posted bed and it?s spill of crimson sheets caught between both the world of that flickering firelight and that single candle. An old ivory tub sat near the fire's embrace filled with water and pooling a gentle steam from within. The entire scene brought a soft, quiet look of awe to Lilliana?s otherwise smiling face.

Either he had thought ahead, or it was all a happy, romantic coincidence. Extricating herself from the curl she'd made to his side, the gypsy chuckled softly, stricken all sorts of shadowed downs and brightened ups in the dramatic lighting. Her bag hit the ground with barely a sound as she set it. "Ya' live too lavishly, lover." The tone she held was teasing of course, soft and coy.

There came a soft nod of the draconian?s head upon his reply. ?All acquired, through the decades of life. What's the point of having coin, if you don't spend it now and then? I'll have to take you to the forests depths? Not so lavish a place lays there. But that is for another time. A bath perhaps?? That soft almost smile he often catered to slipped to lilt his lips, the simple leather of his pants and the silk of his shirt moving with little noise against his form. ?Or would you rather slip below the comfort of silken sheets??

"Fire an' wa'ter... Now tha's somethin' I hadn' pic'ured." Not as if she didn't expect him to bathe, oh no. But the image of them both immersed in such was an interesting one; she always did enjoy their compliment of elements.

?The bath then it is?? Tilting his head to the left slightly off slipped that silken shirt before it was left over the end of his bed. Turning back, Z?ev worked the leather ties free from their bindings, working the pants down past his hips in route to the ivory tub. Moving slowly as he proceeded to slip into the water's warm embrace within the ivory, his gaze turned and lowered over toward her.

?I'll have to show you some warm springs soon, full of water and fire my dear.? Lilliana seemed distant as he spoke, her eyes swollen and soft, stricken to sights elsewhere despite the sound of his voice in her ears and all his lovely talk of visiting the forest?

A master of Tenebrism could not have painted him finer, Lilli thought quietly as she turned in time to watch him disrobe. There it was again, that soft little bird's urgency in her chest; she swallowed it away. Again, like her urgent, distressed thoughts of the week or so past; Another time, she'd deal with it all another time. Right now there were shadowed pathways across his body that drew her attention. New maps to follow, new abstract, flickering paths to trace; seeing him there drew her hands first and her feet second.

"Well when ya' move an' pu' i' like tha', Z'ev... How could any woman say no?" Her tone had lowered to something a touch thicker and smoother, her eyes following after him with all the slow, predictable crawl of a flame after a wick. Distracted, it was only when he sank down that Lilliana realized she was foolishly overdressed and her hands began the slow, careful work of rectifying her situation.

The outter bodice she often wore had been left behind for the night in favor of a looser, warmer gown. It was only when that material pooled and fell that one would see she still indeed still had worn a bodice? It was merely undercover and out of sight. An off pale, off peached-white with thin dark stripes. Garters flashed shadowed in the dim light to matched, as did the swirling, color touched triangle of cloth about her hips. These too were taken away, but with a touch more gentility; she wanted him to enjoy the atmosphere the room as much as she had been, of course.

Beside the tub, she laid hands to its rim, her smile just the right side of coy. Realizing she?d left a small tick of her curiosity unanswered, she inquired softly as to the whereabouts of these said springs. All the while Z?ev?s eyes followed each movement, each piece of clothing, and each piece of light and shadow that catered to her sweet nudity. Eventually his gaze would follow its part from her form, a light smile held his lips, another slight tilt taking his head as she drew near the ivory tub. ?Below the very ground we've walked upon my dear, Gypsy.? He replied.

"Ahh... is tha' why yer skin's always so warm an' echoin', m'lovely draco'?" Having long ago been informed of his differences the witch had whole heartedly believed him; accepting his oddity without much pause. Z'ev always had a spice about him she could not ignore, what did it matter if he held a greater, truer, more beastial form? She gave herself to any situation without the eyes of a bigot, why would such a rare piece in her life such as her draconian be any different?

Mindful of her lover's limbs as she slipped down in the water to join him. The hot water didn't take long for her to get used to, and each moment she took to sink and assimilate she nearly purred with the pleasure of it. Draco?s eyes could not help but follow her once more. His gaze played along her form as the water drew higher,

?My warmth, comes from my heritage my dear. Though the places I sometimes visit does help. We all hold blood lines with possible perks to them.? Came his quiet, thoughtful reply.

"Mm, tha' they do. Ya' could thank m'ma fer the shape I see ya've t'aken a likin' t'o. Though... this hair." Seeing the path of his eyes, she drew a hand to a curl that'd fallen to the heat of the water, limp and dripping, she fingered it idly. "... tha's no' hers, an' another t'ale." She didn't quite give him a tone that suggested it should be left for another time, but neither did she hold an inflection that it should be gone into further.

With a small shake of her head, the witch moved, half sliding, half wading through the thick warmth for his greater source; there was always the compulsory need to touch him.

A slight shift of limbs and his arms were welcoming her motions to ease closer within the water's warmth. a soft nod of his head. ?I see. Something to talk on, upon another flicker of flames light at a later date and time perhaps then, my dear Lilliana.?

His eyes quite enjoyed roam and round of her body, savoring every curve, rumbling with quiet amusement. ?Remind me to thank your mother, at a later date then.?

"If yer business does no' t'ake ya' away from me nearer the summer's t'urn an' solst'ice, lover, ya' migh' cert'ainly have the chance t'do so." Though the hint was a small one, a part of her felt a bit silly for hoping so far ahead. Who knew what the future held? She could pick up and leave in two months time, she could be needed elsewhere, she could....

Again her thoughts were straying, and the shadows fell on her face without her meaning them to. She folded in where he gave though, chuckling quietly at the feel of water sliding between their skin, savoring the feel and the slip, worming gently.

Fingertips moved along her arms and downward along her sides in turn. ?I've no plans, to be anywhere else, Lilliana. You may, be stuck with me for a while.? Lips brushed the bare of her shoulder, eased inward to her neck in a light touch of warmth kissed there. She sighed with a soft contentment as his mouth found and pressed to the familiar hollows of her neck. Taking in her scent all the better with her so close and at hand, a faint draconic growl perked somewhere in his throat.

"Ya've been sayin' tha' m'dear... I know, I know.? Hearing that undeniable peel rumble down through his chest, she leant back against him, shifting, still amused by the slip and slide of her softer self to his. "... forgive this gypsy, hm? I've no' had a long st'andin' lover b?fore." And there it was, she'd said it; and all it took was a casual turn of the conversation and a few smooth, bathtub kisses. The core of what little awkwardness she felt in regards to her draconian. Feeling a bit lighter, she turned playful and decided to return his rumble with an attempt of her own; a softer, more feminine sound of course. The sound that came from her throat perked light smile at his lips, his hands playing below the water's embrace to glide along her sides and over her hips in light stroking motions.

?I can understand that? my dear. Does such worry you, Lilliana?? His lips brushed just below her left ear, indulging in a tender nibble of the flesh before his lips would move and cover with a warming kiss. Hot breath still played against her ear in a feather light touch as one arm slid to glide about her waist, cradling her closer, smiling as he felt her curve to his touch and accommodate the slide of his hands.

A soft, breathless little part came from her lips, his words striking a soft chord within. She suddenly found herself tired of avoiding the thought; he fit her all too sweetly.

Taking a lighter path, she still tread carefully, but she couldn't deny the small dimples blossoming at her cheeks as that slow, sweetheart's smile crept out to brighten her expression. "Should this vagabond fear a dragon tha's come t'gobble up her hear'?" Eyes half closed, she let her own hands wander, either of them picking and weaving a slow, sensuous path along the outer length of his thighs, her fingertips circling gently at the knees.

? I don't believe so.? A brush of lips at her shoulder then as he paused. ?She didn't seem to mind the last time he 'gobbled' her up.?Lips brushed at her ear gently with the warmth of his breath in turn. ?Sweet tasting. How could one resist savoring such a delectable treat??

His quiet admissions and subtle insinuations brought to a few of their previous encounters to her brain with a soft, welcoming creep of warmth to her body; a flash of such memories does the body good, and his careful, slow fingers more so. Lilliana shifted again, mesmerized by the flicker and soft shimmer of low, low light to the water's surface.
His hands moved further below that shimmering surface to their distorted forms, easing in gentle strokes against her thighs before moving back up along her hips. ?I'm growing quite used to, our time together. And look forward to the next each time we part for a day... or night.?

Seeing the distorted mingle of their legs beneath, she smiled, her neck offering a gentle turn, moving with the warmth of his breath to her ear. It made her shiver despite all the heat. "... as do I, lover. As do I."

Teeth moved to press at her lower lip, kneading the soft flesh gently as she stole a hand from the water and slipped it with a hot cupping of water up and back over his shoulder. The motion was slow and affectionate; gentle to match the lazy pace of his hands. It brought a light smile to the draconian as the warm water washed over his flesh. Enjoying the fresh, close, spiced scent of her, his hands lifted in turn then, giving her breasts a light cradling, cup. A soft noise escaped her then, but it quickly trickled down to a soft, throaty, contented musing.

?T'ease..." It couldn't be helped, she arced into the curl and rolling cup of his touch, enjoying the soft trickle of sensation it sent down further along her body. The hand she'd used moments before to spill warm water slipped back and uncurled from about his shoulder. It took a trip down the length of his forearm, rubbing it up and down slowly, savoring the odd, pleasant lack of finer hairs and friction. Him having so little hair always intrigued her, it made his skin feel so much softer; she silently attributed it to his scalier heritage.

?I've been called far worse. I think I could live with, tease, my dear.? His smile was ever light at his lips as he, of course, teased them along her shoulder and into her neck with a tender nibble taken. Fingertips were light for the moment, Tenderly he stroked along the wet, ample bulk of her bosom, musing across the tighter, sweeter ends her found perked there. He'd been called a tease, why not act as one? The nibbles to her steam glazed flesh, the palmed, heady musings and the soft cadence of his voice were all the stricken match sticks that set her soft moan aflame. Wriggling softly, she drew and unguarded fingertip between her lips and teeth in retaliation.

?Just think, in no time at all, my dear, the ground will green with grass? The days will bloom in warmth, the birds will speak their songs and lovers will once again savor the moons above on heated nights. Only the stars to gaze down upon them and know their sweetness?? His breath was back to her neck, unable to leave, still buried in the intoxicant that was her. Those red eyes of his, however, were fixated on the suckling she was doing to his finger. Feeling the weight of his gaze and his words, she relented, but not before giving the poor digit a soft flick of her tongue.

A touch breathless, she murmured quietly in response to his sweet, poetic nothings. "... would tha' mean, swee' draco', tha' ya' managed t'keep in m'company an' kindled as promised through the wint'ered months?"

?Yes...? Came Z?ev?s single, husky reply. That watchful gaze of his spilt her shoulder past the caress of his lips, past the nibbles he was still taking, past the kisses he laid, and narrowed down along the curvaceous path his hands had abandoned for more sensual schemes of grandeur.

His steady fingertips would soon find other warm tasks at hand, and his gypsy other, sweeter responses for her lover?s insatiable ambitions.
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Adapted from Live Play

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Matters of business, ah, but what of family? Lilliana was downright exhausted after the past week she'd had. What with helping her mother, Melina, settle in the space between her own wagon and her brother's home where the expecting Niamh lived; giving a hand in the harvest and grinding of special poultices that Melina would need in the coming months, and promising to arrange a small tour of the town in the coming days; the fiery buxom was one tired gypsy indeed.

With Zayveon up and away somewhere in the skies, and her bed beckoning oh so sweetly, it was no surprise the Draconian found his moon ripe lover curled and fast asleep in the swaddle of quilts and suede soft sheets. The gypsy's wards were still strong and firm, so it was only a few choice bodies that could sneak so confidently into her home without waking her; Zayveon was one of those bodies, be he in his true scales or his human skin.

It was rare the gypsy didn't wake to a touch, but somehow, at least with him, it was a half and half sort of thing. Either she woke to roll and greet him with both her arms and heart wide for him, or other times she'd keep on sleeping sound.

This time she woke, but it was a deliciously slow coming. Lilliana just remembered feeling warm and safe, wound up in something larger than herself, something firmer and more corded with muscle than her favorite quilted comforter.

"Z'ev..." Came her soft, sleep fogged voice. It was still husky and still heavily accented, but somehow with the world about them softer than soft and warmer than warm, for a moment it sounded like muted music. Her hands moved then, following the fond curl of her voice, needing to feel that body, wanting it's cradle and peace. "... m'love."

Those molten eyes of her were still half closed to the world, but even blind, the witch could navigate her lover's body it's world over and not miss one glorious inch. Still half awake, love drunk and body weary, the witch moved to meet his press, curving where he bent, molding to form what softness of her she could to the hardness of him. A variable tangle of arms, a lazily needful press of lush lips to the warm, scaled edge of his collar bone. Perhaps it was a dream?...

The thought had crossed her mind.

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The Xiuhcoatl, massive as the skyship was moved over the early morning skies of the southern glen. Clawed fingertips tapped to a railing as Z'ev Zayveon, gazed downward at the landscape so far below. "Here you are and yet I've seen what beauty awaits you down below." Zayveon had to perk a sort of smile at his muzzle as he turned his gaze toward the upright, walking bear of green fur. "Antaeus, I thought you didn't meddle in the romantic ventures of others?" A shift of those large, green wings of Antaeus. The tribal bear gave a shake of his head as he stepped to the railing and looked out. "I don't. I'm just wondering what you're doing up here when I've met Lilliana and seen how she is with you." Zayveon gave a light bow of his head. "Merely enjoying the morning before I have to attend to some matters." "Matters." A nod from Antaeus. "I thought you were sort of the head of the organization. Which by, you could shift duties and matters that need attending to, to that of others. One might be inclined to then seek out a Gypsy beauty and enjoy time with her instead of being boggled down with what some would call simply, work."

A flick of Zayveon's tail behind him. Much like that of his friend Claws, who usually spent his time at the shop upon the markets, Dragon Acquisitions, Antaeus was one to skip to the point and not beat around the bush as some call it. A straight forward approach, and Zayveon had always admired him for such. "Perhaps you're right my friend. What is the point in being in control, if you don't shift the work load off your shoulders and into capable hands." "The ship will be fine. Your fleets in deep space will survive a day without you overseeing to them. Go, do what couples do or what not. Forget of work, let us without someone worry over those things." Antaeus perked a rare smile over at the slightly taller Zayveon.

"Done.." Came the simple word from Zayveon's muzzle, before a motion of large hands swept up his form into a vortex of color and he was gone in the blink of an eye.