Never since her knowing the draconian had Lilliana found his homes doors locked to her touch, this time was no exception. She'd snuck a bit of time away despite his insistence she was not infringing, that work was not currently a priority; but Niamh had been on the back of her brain, and her wounds had healed surprisingly quick... She still suspected Z'ev's presence, but who was the gypsy to complain? It would help her hide her silliness from her family.

Wet pieces of precipitation undecided on whether or not they wanted to be snowflakes or raindrops riddled and slipped throughout her fiery mane as she shook it loose from the thick draw of her cloak's hood. Though odd for the winter months, the light sound of thunder could be heard in the distance. The sound seemed to carry through the house?

A hum sat at Zayveons lips as he worked across the hall from his chamber room at the manor; his study. Magic was a thing deeply set upon the air as scrolls and books lay open all over the various tables in the study. Not to mention a few? more interesting devices by the walls here and there.

Molten eyes tilted to the stairs as she heard the soft, tell tale passing of Z'ev somewhere up and beyond. Chuckling quietly, her hand slipped along the banister as she crept upwards, dimming her magic and slipping out a ward to her scent in hopes of spooking her lover.

Up above, there was a thrash from the draconians hand and a flick of fingers over a large black bowl with jewels inlaid to its curved sides. A bit of smoke and a dash of sparks flew into the air above a second later. There came a soft pop and then a louder one before a bubbling sound from within and then that of a swirling mist about the table and his own form before rising upwards slowly to creep over the table and head for the bowl's contents. Keen gypsy ears took a cant to the soft noise that fizzled and sparked down the length of the upper hallway, her nose twitching for that faint smell of smoke; what was the old dragon up to? Still cloaked moderately with little odds and ends of magic, Lilliana crept further down, her steps impossibly light despite her lush size.

Fingertips laid to the door Z'ev had left ajar in his passing, she snuck an eye through the crack, her lips together in an inquisitive line as she watched the distant play of swirling mist from around the draconians form.

The source was the bowl, the mist swirled around and out upon the table before him. It spun wildly, then came another spark here, a flash of light there, and down his fingertips moved over the jeweled bowl with its dark colorings. A crackle from the fire burning within the hearth to the side painted the room in all sorts of dancing shadows.

The pour of his power and the motion of magic about the air sent a silent shiver down the witch's spine, setting the backs of her rose window hues to a gentle, irrepressible glow. A silent murmur of her lips and the door would slip open further without so much as a ghostly creak; in she strode on still silent steps, pale hand dipping up to smooth away a bit of stray curl.


Taking up a vial and pouring it into the bowl with a hiss of smoke, black, then a flash of gold escaped upwards into the air. An old tongue few remembered was spoken beneath Z?ev?s breath. It was draconic in nature, low and growling; a last word and a small puff of smoke rose from inside the bowl set to the table.

Lilliana side stepped quietly in the background, her neck craning as she sought a better look at what the pop and fizzle of the bowl was all about, watching as her lovers hand reached down. There was one last puff and fanfare of smoke. His fingers plucked an odd, ancient looking key of gold coloring out from the low lying smog, dry despite the liquid that had been poured in earlier.

Z?ev brought the hey above his head to the lamp light, examining it slowly; a turn left, then a turn right and he lowered it with a soft nod of his head. ?Perfect.?

The intent behind the witch?s magical cloaking slowly began to fade away as curiosity overrode her childish desire to startle Z?ev. Slowly but surely, all the bits of herself that were undeniable began to leak out; her scent, her magic, the bright phoenix of her aura. The draconian?s senses were slowly flooding with her presence as it all came undone in a quiet wash as his gypsy watched.

There came a pause to his motions and as the key lowered slowly he sudden turned in a spin upon the heel of his boot to face her with a smile.

?Lilliana... welcome my dear. I've been expecting you. I was hoping you'd make it back before I found myself turning in for rest this night. I've something for you. A gift if you will. Something you won't find in any of the shops in the markets.?

Her voice was half laughing as the witch moved closer, a hand for his hip despite the peer of her eyes towards his 'gift'. "I.. I'm sure anythin' tha' ever came from yer hand t'mine wouldn' be somethin' I could find in a place as casual as the marke'place." She was no fool; even if he hadn't mentioned it, she could sense the key wasn't a paltry piece of common metal. It was positively humming with unused potency.

"Wha' does i' open, darlin'?" She asked carefully.

A smile and nod to her as she drew in closer. ?A key to any door you can envision clear as day. I used one such key to whisk you here from the room you'd taken at the Inn, North of here.?

Lowering the key, he held it out to her. ? Slip this key, into any lock. When you open the door the doorway will spin a portal to the other door you?ve pictured in your mind. Only you, may use this key. I've used a strand of your hair to incorporate your essense to the key. Not even I, could use this key to travel with.?

"Oh?" This perked the witch's attention further, the bright line of her brows un-knitting and slipping right up towards her curly hairline. She knew him to be a clever creature, but this was one of the first times she witnessed an act of his power firsthand with such a magical purpose.

Accepting the piece's weight, she tested it gingerly in her hand, fingers curling around the key's oddly warm metal body with a small, excited expression. "Ya' jus'.... Ya' jus' gave me the mos' wonderful solut'ion t'a puzzle I've been t'ryin' t'wrap m'head around. Oh Z'ev, ya' clever, swee' thing." Lilliana crooned happily as she moved to embrace him, her lips seeking his in a warm tilt and press.

?I have my moments.? Modest with a smile as his arms would encircle of her form to draw her in close and snug against him, lips warm and tender met with her own. a rumbled growl might of been somewhere behind them.

"Ya' have many momen's... Though this one is genuinely a blessin', lover. T'ruly. Ya' pu' a bi' o' m'mind t'res' w' thinkin' o' a way t'visi' m'ma an' ge' some fine hands t'aid w' Niamh's pregnancy." She lingered there so close to his mouth, her lips pressing against the corner of his growling smile, her nose nuzzling gently to his cheek. Oh she was quite the happy woman at the moment; all of the pieces she'd been puzzling over were falling in place. "... Swee' thing asked me t'deliver, bu' I'm afraid I'm no' so st'rong in tha' area. I'dove been needin' help."

?I'm glad this gift comes at the right time my dear.? His hands moved along her sides and over her hips in a light caress as he smiled to her, as that of her touch.

?All one must do, is inquire for help and help shall be granted.? A wink to her and brush of lips to her cheek.

"Mm... Well, unfort'una'ely, m'dear, I don' ask fer tha' easily. Though I think ya' already know tha' 'bou' me by now." Laughing softly, she fought against the urge to shiver as his hands passed along in their idle, gentle motions. Still with her palm about the key, she moved to slip it away for now into the varying folds of her skirts; a draconian required both hands free. "... though yer presence does spoil, an' I'm st'art'in' t't'ry an' break some o' those solit'ary habi's." She offered lastly with a feigned, shy expression.

?We get used to things and change can at times be slightly odd for us.? There was a smile at his lips as he nodded to her words. Those smiling lips began to move then, their trail playing along the left side of her neck, taking in her scent even as the warmth of his breath as his lips worked.

Despite the distraction his mouth made against the more sensitive bits and spaces along her neck, Lilliana couldn't help but quirk a brow to his words. Perhaps, then, that was a comment that could be shared both ways?

"Do ya' speak only fer m'benefi', lover, or d'ya' speak from experience?" His breath made her succumb to the shiver she'd been staving off, she smelt as she always did; Of cloves and earthen sharp spices, of ember and sweet, feminine human pieces? And as of late, more and more, despite her cleanly nature, of him. It was the sort of scent bathing alone could not get rid of, and the draconian silently reveled in that.

That smile was still stuck at his lips as he replied. ?Most of my words come from experience in themselves my dear Lilliana. I've the years remember for such experiences along the way.? A wink and brush of lips against her cheek as his head turned slightly.

Both hands free meant she could capture that turning head of Zayveons. Her fingers were light, as was her touch, but the grip, if tested, was playfully firm. The light behind her eyes was brimming with a quiet thanks as she brushed a thumb to his cheek.

"I mean' were there things tha' ya' had t'change... Fer me?" Perhaps a bit of a loaded question, but her concern was quite genuine, as always; she did not want the draconian to feel hindered or burdened.

Was that a hint of insecurity? Possibly, but the gypsy would never word it so.

Zayveon flashed curious smile at her, pursing his lips for a moment. ?Nothing that wasn't welcomed from the previous ventures that had become the norm my dear. All things can enjoy time alone, but sooner or later we all need contact in our lives. Specially with those we care of.? The words were followed with a brush of lips to her own.

"Aye... Good t'hear then. I'll be an anchor t'no one's fee'. I've seen i' happen in.. w' rela'ionships like this an' others. An'..." She paused again; unusual for her normally sure, steady words. Again the chink in her fairly sturdy armor showed; Lilliana didn't fight it this time. She'd been trying to loosen her rigid demeanor about closeness for some time.

"... an' I jus' like makin' folks happy. I mean. Ya'. You. I like the idea o' makin' ya' happy w' the t'ime we spend, mm?" Odd, perhaps, that so sensual and empathetic a creature as she held such a silly hurtle before her.

?I quite enjoy, when we're together my dear Gypsy. You're not impeding or other wise taking up my time in any way other then savory blissful my dear. You're a welcome, to my life. Don't ever let your mind wander and think you may be hindering me in any way, shape, or fasion. I'm quite content, when we're together.?

"Oh dear... All the ques's an' darknesses. All the accomplishmen's an' all the journeys t'o an' fro t'touch m'goddess an' her magic." Lilliana seemed a bit stricken, her laugh sudden, bright, and disbelieving as she shook her head. "... an' somethin' so swee' an' simple t'urns me t'somethin' an' someone I though' years pu' b'hind me." Her eyes spoke volumes that her words did not; Z'ev was a good thing, and she had been being quite silly for quite some time.

?No worries, I'm not going anywhere... you know where to find me.? He lifted of a hand and gestured around; meaning the manor in the city.

?I'm quite happy being around you. Content? Lilliana. Life can be interesting when you walk it alone for the most part, over time. Though there is something to be said about walking through life with someone else. Leave's you less time to talk to yourself.? There came a smile and wink.

"I's only when ya' star' answerin' yer'self back tha' ya' should be worryin', lover." His good humor was a contagion that licked at her own.

Inspired, she moved to inch him backwards, her arms careful and barely there, like ghosts to trail across the hairless skin beneath the arms of his robes. "I will help ya' keep the insanit'y a' bay a bi' longer..."
_____________________________________
_____________________________________
Adapted from Live Play


http://th05.deviantart.net/fs41/300W/f/2009/024/c/d/Once_Gold__Always_Beautiful_by_xLittle_Miss_Jekyllx.jpg

There was always a certain lonesome peace to the house when Brishen was not home. Niamh lay on her stomach in front of the remains of the fire, sorting pins with which to tack together her first rough outline of the little quilt she intended to make for their child. Not that it was anything on the scale of Brishen's plans - from Da, the bairn would be recieving a nursery room, built onto the existing house. From Ma, there would be this quilt, and no doubt a variety of other, little things.

She was distracted in her task by the faint glimmer of metal and precious stone on her finger. A low smile touched her lips as her eyes lowered to the claddagh Brishen had given her, in answer to the one she had given him. Not an engagement, but a promise more binding than marriage in her eyes.

Suddenly she looked up, alert and suspicious. There had been a tug ... a pulling of forces beyond mortal ken, but very obvious to her. Thanks to her mother's Sidhe blood, Niamh was highly sensitive to such forces now, and she had felt something enter the house. A something she did not recognise, moreover, as either friend or foe.

She rose to her knees, a deep frown on her brow, and concentrated, tapping into the power within her to listen closely to the air around her. Yes, there was something here, someone hidden. Just how they had bypassed her wards, Niamh did not know, but she was not about to wait around to ask.

Then she heard it. A knock, sounding from the bedroom across the hallway. She crept towards the room, reaching out to take up the poker from the fireplace as she passed. Good, solid iron, but what mattered most was that the poker was a long, sharp piece of soot covered metal, as good a weapon as any.

In the doorway to the bedroom, she paused, listening once more. There was someone there; she could hear rustlings from the locked closet, though why anyone would enter through the closet was beyond her. Edging closer, the poker held high, Niamh realised she recognised the voice muttering on the other side of the door.

"Lilli?"

Moving forward smartly, the little Irish woman unlocked the closet and flung the door open, stepping back once more with her impromptu weapon ready to swing, in case it was not the fiery witch. Her eyes widened at the sight of Lilliana McClae squeezed into the small space.

"What th'bleedin' hell're ye doin' in there?"

Niamh stared in utter astonishment at the sight of Lilliana McClae unfolding herself from the musty confines of the closet. The raven-haired lass from Eire could not for the life of her work out what in the world her sister witch was doing in the closet, let alone why she would want to be in there in the first place.

Lowering the poker, although not quite prepared to set it aside just yet, she frowned laughingly at Lilli's greeting.

"Alrigh', alrigh'," Niamh laughed, waving her free hand. "Good evenin', Lilliana, how are ye?" She even dropped a curtsey as she giggled. It was the manner of greeting more than anything that assured her this was, in fact, Lilli; no one else would try and pass off a mistake so ridiculous as this one as intentional.

Backing up, she gestured for the fiery witch to come through to the main room, pausing when the notion of a test was aired. Biting her lip thoughtfully, Niamh stared in unabashed amazement at the golden key as it was flourished under her nose. So this was what had tugged at her, that not-hostile, not-friendly force that had delivered her lover's sister into their locked closet.

She made no move to touch it, however; it smacked of magic beyond her knowledge, and there was only one person from whom Lilli could have recieved such a gift.

"Yer dragonman is certainly one fer th'myst'ries, is he nae?" she smiled. "C'mon through, an' I'll put this awa'." She gestured with the poker absently, leaning it behind her back to fling an arm about Lilli's ample waist and half-hug, half-drag her sister into the warmth of the main room.

Clonking the poker back in place, she rubbed her hands together, tilting her head curiously as Lilli imparted yet more mysteries for her ears. "Visitin'?" she asked curiously. "I though' there wasnae way tae know where yer kin fetched up fer th' winter?"

It was tempting, though, all the same. The last time Niamh had laid eyes on Lilliana's mother had been during that distressing episode with the Sidhe, and that had not been the best of circumstances in which to inform the woman that she had a new daughter in all but name.

She regarded Lilli thoughtfully. "T'willnae hurt th'bairn, will it?"

Somewhat bemused by Lilliana's excitable pacing, Niamh was only too pleased to sit down. Just watching her sister witch move about was tiring. Lilli seemed to be fizzing with energy, all lit up like a Christmas tree and ready to explode in a thousand happy stars. That mental image made Niamh smile, and she lifted a hand to hide the smile before Lilli could see it.

That smile, however, grew more than a little sly as she listened to the fiery gypsy speak, seeing how softness seemed to spill through her friend as she thought on her mysterious dragonman and his gift to her. Niamh bit her lips together, trying to suppress that treacherous little quirk of lips. She knew that look well enough; she saw it in the mirror almost every morning, after all. It was hard for a woman to hide the tell-tale signs of being thoroughly loved, even if it were only in the physical sense of the word.

"M'nae sayin' anythin' agin yer man, Lilli, dinnae be sae quick tae jump tae his defense," she laughed softly, leaning back as the fizzing, fiery witch knelt before her. "He is a man, though - ye cannae blame me fer bein' wary o'a man's magic at such a time."

Her hands shooed away, she looked down to where the freckle-dashed fingers of Lillana McClae touched over her womb, biting her lip as she fought not to suck in her stomach. To the eye there may seem to be no change, but to the touch ... there was a firmness, a subtle roundness there that had been lacking in the last few weeks. Niamh knew it all too well; her jeans were proving remarkably difficult to do up already.

"Y'sure y'Ma wouldnae mind?" she asked softly, a small flash of the vulnerable little girl appearing for a split second. "I didnae mean tae unnerve ye by asking, only - Well, were it possible, I would've asked my Ma, but ..." She trailed off, shrugging. There was no way she could fathom that the Summer Queen of the Sidhe would take a moment or two from her duties to tend to the birth of her own grandchild.

She took the key as it was proffered, smiling a little as she cast to memory the feeling of Z'ev's magic, so's not to be startled upon the entrance of he who was friend, and more, to this family. She snorted with laughter at Lilli's explanation of the magic, lifting her eyes to fix her sister witch with an amused grin.

"Ah, sae that's how ye ended up in our closet, aye?" A small giggle escaped her for the remembered sight of the buxom gypsy crammed into that small space. "Ye do realise I'm goin' tae take great pleasure in sharin' all that wi'Brishen?"

As Lilli spoke, though, a gentle sense of calm was pervading her senses. She'd worried almost non-stop since discovering her pregnancy, and indeed, a development only that morning that heightened those worries considerably. But Lilli and Brishen's Ma would be able to set her mind to rights, she was sure.

"Aye, then, sae when d'we go?"