Fantasy, romantic conquest - SierraArcanum & Gorgoniy

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'Sierra should be here every evening!', viscount La Seche thought. 'She livens up this dusty bunch'. She chattered away merrily, sitting right next to him. A broad grin decorated Gregory's face, as he listened to her stories. Sierra was the first spark of light he'd had in his life for some time. Melancholy spread lazily through him, as he reminded himself why his world had turned dark en grim for so long. The death of his wife had been a blow, he'd thought would end him. Only his duties, and upbringing, had let him survive the tragedy. Feelings of bereavement clawed at him, trying to drag him into misery.

Sierra's natural perfume perforated his memories. It became an anchor, keeping Greg in the here and now. "You smell very nice", Gregory murmured in a voice heavy with emotion. Saved from his heavy memories, he smiled at the warm woman next to him. He felt a desire to empty the room and keep her to himself. Although he was usually thoughtful, Gregory now just acted on his desire. Standing, proud and tall, he clapped in his hands. "Tis late, ladies and gentlemen", he boomed. Yawning a bit too broadly, he added: "My bed is beckoning. And I have a habit of complying with it's beckonings". Turning towards his guest of honor - Sierra - Greg bowed. "Sierra Arcanum. Thank you for your perfect performance. I enjoyed it a lot. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you miss Arcanum, most talented artist and bard!" With these words he started clapping. His other guests followed his lead. As the applause died down, some of the nobles started to rise and leave. "Thank you for your company, master Phillipe. You looked stunning this evening, misstress Philene. 'Till next time". The viscount personally escorted some of the stragglers out.

As the heavy doors of the dinner hall closed behind the departing guests, Gregory turned around with a broad smile. "Sierra, wondrous woman. You made the impact I hoped you would". Grinning, he thought back on the shocked expressions of many of the lesser nobles, as the bard had sung her song. "Hahahaaa...You were wonderful, you are wonderful!" Beckoning at a lackey he ordered a brandy for them both - as a nightcap. "Do you have lodgings", Greg asked Sierra, "or are you in need of some? I have rooms to spare, you know".
 
She told the nobles every kind of adventure folk stories she could remind herself of. These were humorous kind of stories, so she made sure to use obscene words to make them feel scandalized and offended. She was dying to see if any of them would dare to insult the Viscount's favorite guest. But instead, they just laughed for the sake of it, fearing that if they did it not, it would offend the Viscount and enrage him. The viscount and this guards, however, where truly enjoying themselves, laughing like there was no tomorrow at her jokes and choice of words.

After the chatting had quieted down, her sharp hearing had caught Gregory's deep voice murmuring how nice she smelled. She smiled seductively at him, her melted gold gaze fixed on his cold steel blue. Just like Ice and fire, however she knew she could just as easily melt this ice fortress and make a storm out of the waters of his soul.
"Why, thank you. Ya' smell just as pleasant, me' lord" She replied with a warm and sincere smile.

He then stood and announced the dinner as over. Sierra bowed in her antics as the guests clapped their hands in her honor, though she knew none of them actually meant that and were only complying with the viscount's wishes. She waited patiently 'till he bid them farewell, before speaking to him. She knew that she should follow their pattern soon and depart, but the thought of leaving the Viscount behind was making her feel saddened.

"Sierra, wondrous woman. You made the impact I hoped you would" Said he, grinning widely. She followed suit.
"It was my pleasure. Tho' I'm pretty sure they'll 'ave nightmares for the rest of the week!" She chuckled.
"Hahahaaa...You were wonderful, you are wonderful!" He laughed alongside her, then proceed to offer her a brandy, and of course, she couldn't deny it. Once a boozer, always a Sierra.

"Do you have lodgings, or are you in need of some? I have rooms to spare, you know" He asked her, as they drank together, peacefully.
"The innkeeper holds a grudge against me' since I've been causing 'er troubles yesterday. So I'm out on the streets tonight." She sipped her drink, and then continued "But If it isn't too troublesome, perhaps I'll accept yer' offer. If not for me, then for me' harp. It's an expensive instrument and it's a memento from me' late mentor. Can't 'ave it rotting away." Said she, sighing as she remembered Simon. Even so, she smiled at Gregory.

La Seiche was unique, and even though he was old enough to be her father - in physical ways - he was handsome and perfect looking. He also looked mature and wise, things that Sierra always treasured in men. He made her feel secure and at peace, as well as less lonely. She felt whole.

"Sorry, but see the Viscount when we're alone and you're smiling like a young boy, I can not. I offer you my humblest apologies, me' lord, but I only see a man, and a man alone." She said, sincerely, though maintaining her charming demeanor.
 
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"The innkeeper holds a grudge against me' since I've been causing 'er troubles yesterday. So I'm out on the streets tonight." Sierra sipped her drink. 'Beautiful lips', Gregory mused, as he waited her to continue. Which she did: "But If it isn't too troublesome, perhaps I'll accept yer' offer. If not for me, then for me' harp. It's an expensive instrument and it's a memento from me' late mentor. Can't 'ave it rotting away." Said she, sighing as she remembered Simon. At that, Sierra smiled at him. Greg noted a slight touch of melancholy within the sweetness.

Viscount La Seiche appreciated Sierra Arcanum's zeal, exhuberance and openness. This part of her made him feel alive. Something he hadn't experienced in a long while. This evening however he experienced a side of her he hadn't noticed before. She had calmed down, at times she even felt tentative and a bit shy. 'I like it', Gregory thought, 'it shows Sierra has depth'. The viscount preferred to interact with people who clearly displayed that there is more to them than the first, external (shallow) layer.

"Sorry, but see the Viscount when we're alone and you're smiling like a young boy, I can not. I offer you my humblest apologies, me' lord, but I only see a man, and a man alone." Sierra said, sincerely, though maintaining her charming demeanor. Gregory was unsure what she just said. Somehow the words didn't come together in a sensible sentence. "Young boy? Man?", he stammered. "What do you mean?" Greg noticed he desired more than words. Her scent tickled his senses again. Her charming smile plastered an oafish smile on his face. But he had been brought up as a true gentleman, so he sure wasn't going to take advantage of the young woman.

After some more conversation. Where save topics were discussed. Politics for example. Although Gregory didn't want to end the night, he knew his duties would wake him early the next morning, so reluctantly he said: "Milady Sierra...I have to send you to your bed. And myself as well'. Grinning he offered her his hand to help her out of her seat. A servant appeared immediatly - as if he materialized from thin air. "Sir?". he asked. "Ah, Mikail. Would you please show lady Arcanum her room. Make sure she's comfortable and that all her needs are met". Kissing Sierra's long, artistic fingers, he grinned: "Treat her as the honored guest she is".

The lackey - Mikail - ushered Sierra to her room. Perhaps room wasn't the right word. Her sleeping accommodation was easily as large as the common room of the jittery juggler. A impressively carved four poster bed stood proudly in it's centre. The floor was polished to a gleamy sheen. It reflected every pinpoint flame from the enormous chandelier overhead. A sinewy curved couch crouched in a corner, accompagnied by a couple of straight backed arm chairs. Someone had been very considerate and had placed a scented candle next to the bed. A warm autumn perfume now circled the four poster. It reminded Sierra of bright red leaves and warm apple pie. So, this was to be her nest for the night.
 
Sierra just smiled at his reaction. She knew that her words had seemed a little cryptic, but that was because she desired them to be so. Openly admitting to a man that you only see him for who he is on the inside, and not for his social position, would be a bit dangerous. If she had done so, she would be telling him right on his face that she was interested in him. In THAT way. And Sierra prefers to earn her conquests, not to simply request things for herself.

They had chatted away some more, avoiding the topic and focusing on other things, until he decided that it was time to end the night. He bid her goodnight with a gentle kiss on her hands. She wanted to faint. But she wanted even more to laugh manically at the thought of Sierra Arcanum, Scallywag Extraordinaire, FAINTING like a regular female woman. She sternly told her inner hormones to quiet themselves.

"Good night, my liege. I hope yer' evening was enjoyable." She also bid him goodnight, bowing in her antics - however with sincerity.

However when she entered the room, Sierra's jaw dropped: The man had gone mad with his offer, It was much more than she needed!
But then she grinned widely and skipped merrily to her accommodations. Winking at Mikail with a charming demeanor, she closed the door on the poor man's gaping face. Ahh! The thrill of unsettling men never leaves her also.

But this night it had been she who has been unsettled by a man, namely the Viscount La Seiche. But she brushed the thought aside and prepared herself to bed. She searched the drawers and surprisingly found female clothes for the night.
"Hm, must be for the noble ladies who are invited to spend the night with their husbands, brothers or fathers. I care not, these might just serve me!" She muttered under her breath, snickering as she remembered the fancy females who she had met early in the evening. They probably hated her to their very souls.

Then she opened the windows and went to the bed. The delicious fragrance of autumn on the room also made her feel calm, and the bright moon also complimented her soft skin. She loved the wilderness, it was her home. She felt like howling to the moon, declaring her undying love for it's majestic nature. But she couldn't jeopardize her human cover. So she just closed her eyes and hummed softly a lullaby 'till she fell asleep.
 
Gregory knew he would have to rise early. Tomorrow was ordeal day. The day that inhabitants of his fiefdom could come before their Viscount. Most needed him to settle a dispute, some wanted his advice, others would beg money off him. Greg sighed. His late wife had initiated this day. It was a monthly phenomenon. Greg had to admit that the day had proved his way, time and again, since it had been established. Less bloodshed, more satisfied serfs. Yes, it had been a brilliant move by Hilde. Wiggling his toes in his warm, woolen slippers, the viscount slowly analysed his feelings. It were feelings of appreciation. He truly appreciated the valuable changes and additions his late wife - Hilde - had made to his life. 'No hurt, no sadness', Greg wondered. This was a brand new sensation for him. With an expression of complete relaxation Gregory looked inside himself, to discover how he had changed. Changed since...yesterday.

"Sierra", he fumbled. "Sierra Arcanum, wondrous woman. You are the new thing in my life, you are the change which is instrumental to my change". As he spoke the words, he knew them to be true. His heart fluttered in response, as the truth of his observation sank in. His new man-servant - Greg felt very guilty he knew his name (Berk) - had provided him with a warm grog earlier, even before he knew he craved one. With another pang of guilt, Gregory thought: 'Berk is so much better at this, than unfortunate... errr.... Pjotr'. Slowly sipping his grog, which smelled of cloves, heady red wine and cinnamon, he leaned back into the deep cushions of his bed. Peering up at the awning overhead, he mused about the enigma which was Sierra. Her talent was obvious, her charms as well. 'The woman is stunning', the viscount admitted to himself. Perhaps it was the grog, perhaps his manliness, but he felt his thoughts about Sierra turn from academic to sensual.

His skin tingled. For a moment Gregory was confused. Was it because of the images in his mind? Then he recalled the conversation from this afternoon with his mages. They would put a protective spell on him during the night. Or rather over the whole keep. Every room inside the castle would be incorperated in the circle of protective magic. It was a complicated spell, contrived and executed by four of his skillful mages. With the chosen words, and the dance patterns they would lay down a lattice work of magic aimed at keeping unnatural threats from acting against inhabitats of the keep.

Greg felt the magic interact with the genetic power inside of him. It made him slightly uncomfortable. Turning his mind inside, he watched the two different power lines curl and furl around each other. Slowly, carefully the viscount reeled in his personal power threads tying them into a solid ball and fastening them to his inner core. Eyelashes fluttering Gregory returned to his room. Now the protective lattice irked him less. Carefully he put the now empty cup on the table next to his bed. Stretching, he yawned broadly. Within minutes Greg slept peacefully.
 
She tossed and turned on her sleep. Something was trying to bind her down, to dominate her soul and tear it apart. Sierra let out a low growl in her sleep. Her eyes then shot open and she felt immense pain on her chest.
"Magic...Protection!?" She whispered as the energy found her to be of a sinister nature. She immediately growled even more and tried to calm herself down, but it was to no avail.

Seconds later, she began to transform into a lupine form, but she knew it was the magic of the place trying to force her to do so. Her canines had elongated and her irises got wilder, her eyes glowing a sinister yellow in the dark of the night.
"No...No...NO!" Sierra howled and then tried to fight against her own nature. She tugged at the edge of her soul and begged it to not release herself, her human heart trying to soothe her wolfish nature.

Then, she desperately thought of Gregory La Seiche, and how much disappointed he will be when he finds out of her true identity. Fear took over her heart, and she tried harder to revert back into a human, pushing herself over the edge. She can't loose him! She can't! She immediately howled and tears leaked from her face. Her human heart was dominating the beast and masking it once again.

Sierra fell back on the mattress, panting heavily, after calming her nature a bit and reverting back into human form. Closing her eyes, she saw magic lines, like a web. They were trying to tie her down and reveal her as a threat. She used the black and smoky tendrils of her soul to communicate with the power lines. They tried to reject her power and banish it, but as soon as she summoned a warm image of Gregory on her mind, she proved to be of no harm for him or for those inside the keep. Then, the power lines accepted her as someone to be protected as well.

The door had burst open that exact moment.
 
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There he stood, brandishing a slim, but deadly rapier. It gleamed with a promise of dead, as the moonlight struck it. The bleakness of the weapon's steel contrasted with the honey hue of his skin. Most nobles would sport a unnatural white skin, but Gregory adored the sun and loves to ride barebacked and with bare chest through his woods. A chest which was bare now as well. His eyes peered about wildly, sleep had a residual hold on him, and his mind was a bit foggy still. Seeing Sierra in the bed, he charged her to lay back. "Where's the thug?!", Greg demanded.

Not a minute ago, Gregory had awoken. The protective netting had been disturbed. He noticed because the impact of the disruption had tightened the net around him, gagging the ball of power tendrils curled tightly in his core. The viscount wasn't going to tolerate another thread to his house, so he'd sprung up, grabbed his rapier and thundered though he hall. Although the magical lattice had relaxed again, he could follow the releasing stress to it's core. As he reached Sierra's door, he didn't hesitate - he heard restless sounds inside. With a powerful push Greg slammed the door open, adrenaline pumping through his veins, expecting to do battle.

"Where is he?", Gregory asked again. As he did so, he positioned himself between the majority of the suite and the four poster which held the treasure. Glad for lady Moon to aid his search, he peered around in the room. He didn't see anyone, anything. 'Perhaps, it had fled through the window', he wondered. Turning his eyes to Sierra he noticed her disheveled appearance. Sweat plastered her wild hair to her head, her honey eyes burned like wildfire. "Are you all right, Sierra?", Gregory asked. "Were you attacked?"

As he waited for his favorite singer to gather her emotions and words, he became aware of his body. He'd jumped out of bed, without taking the time to dress properly. His bare chest started to show goose bumps highlightinig a few of his scars. The moonlight showed a body build from wiry, long muscles, a small pouch only slightly masking the sixpack beneath it, straight, muscular arms and legs and a nice v-shape down Greg's back. His short, linnen breeches were of a bright blue setting the light brown of his skin off nicely. Unwavering his arm held the rapier high for ages, clearly showing it's familiarity with the weapon.

A ruffle of foot steps in the hallway announced the arrival of guards and mages. The interruption in the magic field had been noticed by them as well. As it should have. In moments they would burst in behind the Viscount. "Sierra", Gregory murmured, "what has happened here?"
 
As he burst through the door, Sierra's eyes quickly averted to where he stood. He then dashed through the room and rushed to her side, eyes wide and alert, searching for the threat. She felt too tense, too scared ant too awed to do anything.

She tried to collect her thoughts and process everything. However, Sierra soon caught notice of Greg's disheveled appearance. He looked sensuously and manly, a perfect distraction. The musician couldn't even breathe as she took in his marvelous looks.
'Get a hold of yourself, woman' Sierra chided herself.

Gregory kept asking her what happened. She didn't know what to do or what to say, not having a real excuse. The wolf-maiden closed her eyes and tried to breathe.
"It was... A nightmare." She lied. Sierra opened her eyes and looked into Gregory's blue irises. She concentrated on their beauty and smiled slightly. "Just a terrible nightmare." She whispered sadly.

The duo heard the guards and the mages burst in. Great. Now they would discover that she was the source of the problem, and that could quickly lead them to discover her identity. Be smarter now, Sierra!
"I have been born into a family of powerful sorcerers, whose traditions I had decided not to follow or practice. Whenever I have nightmares, however, my priestess powers manifests themselves and messes with any kind of magic energy that may be around." Sierra creatively explained, as she combed her slender fingers through her auburn hair.
"Is there some kind... Of a barrier here?" The woman asked cautiously. When the mages confirmed that indeed it had, she just nodded.

"I believe that was the cause of the disturbance then. I never use my powers. They are untrained and confusing energies that may pose as a threat sometimes." She confessed them her fault, though not wholly. "I guess I should had listened to papa, but I was such an insubordinate child that I had decided to become a musician rather than a sorceress." Sierra finished her creative and convincing tale and resorted herself to stare openly at Gregory's delicious chest, smirking seductively, not even bothered that they had an audience. "Thank you for your worry, and I am truly ashamed of waking you up with my childish nightmares, my liege. But I am fine now. Worry not" She said.
 
"It was... A nightmare. Just a terrible nightmare." Sierra whispered. Five people, two women and three men, three mages and two guards. All of them looked askance at their employer. Gregory shrugged and pointed at his guest. With the six of them as audience, Sierra Arcanum elaborated on her earlier answer, by explaining her heritage. The story she told sounded reasonable. More importantly, the protective magic hadn't hurt her and had relaxed now. Gregory was quite aware of the magic's nature. It wouldn't have relaxed, if the auburn musician posed any threat to him or his household. But it had. That was enough assurance for the viscount, that his guest didn't feel a grudge against his house.

Part of her story he recognized. After all Greg had inherited his position, title and lands from his father. Nobody had ever asked whether he wanted to become responsible for the people in his fiefdom. In his youth - when he was about the same age as Sierra now - he'd had some terrible doubts about his own qualities and whether he was good enough to decide over the future of his servs. His father had fallen away quite unexpectedly, forcing Gregory to become the next Viscount La Seche in a time of extreme turmoil and unrest.

Sierra ended her tale, and the mages and guards turned towards him. Gregory nodded and said: "Well, that's settled then. Do not feel shame lady Sierra, surely we will not hold you accountable for something which you cannot influence. I'm glad you are fine, and relieved that no outside threat managed to breech our security measures". With that he signalled to his underlings. "It is all right now. You can go back to bed". The fivesome nodded and left the room.

Turning back to Sierra, he felt her warm gaze tracing the lines of his chest. A broad and seductive smirk was plastered on her delicate features. The way her eyes caressed his body, unsettled Gregory. He wasn't used to women being so open, about their interests. It had been long since the viscount had blushed, but the bright red now chalked on his cheeks couldn't be denied.

Greg felt flustered, amused and decided to return the favour. Steel blue eyes - now soft - took in the beauty of the young woman. Her auburn locks looked like a halo around her sweet face. 'Angelic', popped into his mind. He noticed that Sierra had picked one of the nightgowns from the nearby dresser. One of the shoulder straps had slid off her slender shoulder. The skin exposed there looked incredibly soft. Gregory's hand itched to caress the round form. Wishes and dreams invaded his mind, setting it afire with passion. His wild feelings battled Greg's noble upbringing. He knew he wasn't supposed to feel this kind of animal attraction for a woman he knew only for a couple of days. Gregory knew he was supposed to leave Sierra's room, to walk back to his own quarters and to go back to bed.

Softly Greg took a seat on the far corner of Sierra's bed. 'I know I should', he thought, 'but I won't'. Perhaps the adrenaline in his blood kept him from doing what a gentleman ought to do, perhaps it was something else. Looking at Sierra, Gregory murmured: "I was really worried about your well being. Really, really worried". Mixed with his honesty, was a hint of surprise. He hadn't expected any woman to affect him like this ever again. But Sierra had. "And your shoulder strap slid off", Greg grinned, whilst pointing at the exposed skin.
 
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"Well, that's settled then. Do not feel shame lady Sierra, surely we will not hold you accountable for something which you cannot influence. I'm glad you are fine, and relieved that no outside threat managed to breech our security measures." He told her, but she wasn't paying attention to his words, rather admiring his firm and perfect chest, her golden irises gleaming with fire and desire.

Sierra felt the adrenaline that had came with her half transformation rush back into her veins, when he decided to return her favor by openly staring at her as well when the servants took their leave. That adrenaline, however, was much more powerful, passionate, wild, and truthful than ever, going up into a whole new level.

Her heartbeats instantly increased, yet time seemed to freeze itself completely. It was almost as if fate decided to interrupt it's natural and unstoppable course, just to preserve this beautiful, indescribable moment... A moment where two lonely souls finally met. There were no masks. Nor shapes, excuses, titles, names. Only feelings.

And even though her mind had no ways of explaining this silent, yet powerful 'discovery'... Her heart seemed to realize that this man, this human being, may possess something that she 'desired to desire' for herself in the most intimate way possible.
This 'jewel', was perhaps inside that same luscious hard chest that she was staring at, currently. He held something powerful enough to make her complete. It was just a matter of her earning such a treasure.

To make matters even more stunning, she came to this deep, poetic, passionate, philosophic and sweet conclusion under the 34 seconds that she spent ogling at his body under the moonlight, with a vixenlike smirk gracing her features. 'Wonderful what a beautiful manly body could do with a creative woman's mind and soul.' She thought, trying to brush her earlier train of thoughts as a product of female hormones. But of course, Sierra knew that she was using her cocky side to mask the fear and he thrill she actually felt before. She could try to reason all she wished, but deep down it was more, much more than just her raging hormones speaking their mind.

"I was really worried about your well being. Really, really worried" Gregory's smooth and strong voice brought her back from her inner conflict. She smiled softly at his concern, her heart reinforcing her earlier theory.

"And your shoulder strap slid off." And with this, her battle had transformed now into a war. Go along? Brush him off? What should she do? And why was she questioning herself anyways? This wasn't getting her nowhere.

Sierra then decided. To hell with consequences!

"'Tis how I prefer. Sleeping disheveled brings the creative side of me'. I hope it doesn't offends ye' or yer' house, me' lord." The musician told him in a playful manner, speaking fast and charmingly in the sailor-ish accent she commonly uses when drunk or simply eloquent - both which she was currently not. She sat up on the mattress, but moved herself closer to where he sat, face to face with him.

Her smirk then softened into a genuine smiled, and she dropped her antics, reverting back to her natural accent.
"Thank you for your kindness, my liege. I really appreciate your generosity and friendly hand. This place has the feel of a home... Something that I've been missing on my life." She told him, with serious gratitude. She didn't know however if showing her delicate side that contrasted with her wild and crazy nature would do something to him. She just felt like confessing something tonight. Anything.
 
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"'Tis how I prefer. Sleeping disheveled brings the creative side of me'. I hope it doesn't offends ye' or yer' house, me' lord." The musician told him in a playful manner, speaking fast and charmingly in a sailor-ish accent. Her response to his observation, made Gregory grin. He loved how she used humor to spice up their conversations. "Disheveled is how all of us end up in the morning", he chuckled, "A good night's sleep doesn't do any coiffure, or carefully pressed nightgowns any good". Sierra sought a place closer to him to see eye to eye. She didn't however make any move to pull the shoulder strap up. The creamy skin was so close now. Gregory's heart thundered in his chest. Barechested as he was, Sierra surely must see it pouncing at it's boundary of flesh. Her warmth reached out to his, as if their auras caressed each other. The room felt explosive, the tension between their bodies and souls was building and building. Greg felt as if any move would result in a visible and tangible spark.

Sierra's playfulness lessened and her expression turned solemn, honest and open. It softened the tension between them, making the energy less frantic. It still was there, but it now had achieved a kind of peaceful quality. A restful state. 'Silence before the storm?', Gregory wondered. Sierra's next words hit a nerve. "Thank you for your kindness, my liege. I really appreciate your generosity and friendly hand. This place has the feel of a home... Something that I've been missing on my life." Her honesty, her ability to express her gratitude and show her weakness, made him feel all protective and manly. Gregory felt like taking the angelic creature in his arms and protecting her from the world. Still, he'd been brought up a nobleman, and he was certain that his mother wouldn't approve him being so forward. 'But I must show her I appreciate her openness', he knew. Grabbing her hands with his - they felt adorably small, cupped in his - he said sternly: "Sierra, you will have a home here always". Peering into her golden orbs, he felt as if he was losing himself in them. Her hands were warm, glowing in the cup of his hands. They made the skin of his palms tingle. It felt as if all of his blood flowed to that one spot.

"I know what it is to find something missing in your life", Greg acceded. With fondness he thought back on his life with his late wife, and how she'd been ripped from him. It happened again! 'I don't feel any sadness', the viscount thought, 'how wondrous'. Gregory looked at Sierra and knew she was the source of his acceptation. Peace descended on him. I'm in balance, right here, right at this moment. A satisfied smile curled his mouth upwards, and he kneaded Sierra's delicate hands. "Perhaps you are a part of my puzzle, Sierra". Lust had been replaced by something else. What? Greg couldn't quite pinpoint it, but it felt good, it felt so right.
 
A spark of electrifying pleasure shot up her spine as he gently took her small hands in his. Sierra stared sincerely at his eyes, her wild and warm golden gaze contrasting with his cool and calming blue ones.
"Sierra, you will have a home here always" She heard him say. Her heart melted at his words, her delicate lips parting slightly as she felt surprise for a second. What should she say to that? There's exactly no words to describe how she felt. She trembled slightly.

"I know what it is to find something missing in your life" He told her, with all of his sincerity. And that tenderness and sweetness that he was having towards her made the wolf-maiden feel some sort of closure about her late Master. Now, don't get her wrong: Sierra and her master had never engaged themselves with any kind of a romantic relationship with each other. But he had been a friend, a father... He made her everything that she was. Simon was one of these humans that makes people change through their creative words and beautiful thoughts, instead of forcing the law of the sword upon them. Not that Gregory would be a tyrant, quite the contrary: He seemed to be good in both his words and his powers. Perfectly balanced and stable, something that she was not. She smiled in content seeing how much they contrasted to each other, complemented each other.

"Perhaps you are a part of my puzzle, Sierra" He whispered, kissing her hands. The musician's heart beat faster, but she didn't show her anticipation in the outside. He really meant it?

'Of course he means it' She scoffed mentally at her doubtful thoughts. La Seiche was honest and rightful, he would never try to sweet talk a woman into his bed. And though Sierra is playful, charming and flirty, she actually never slept with a man in all of her life - Resorting herself only to steal kisses to deceive men or play with their minds. Getting attached only hurts, and most men of this era were namely pigs. It would have been a waste of her time and body.

But that is until now... Now that someone had sparked her interest. 'Greg is different', she thought. He seems like the gentlemen that exists only in the fairy tales that she tells to people. How can this man be even real? She didn't have an answer... So the only thing that the Arcanum could do now, was to find out.

"Am I?" She asked him, leaning on him slowly but surely. Her eyes glowed yellow in the dark. Being the brave woman that she was, Sierra lifted one of her hands from his and placed it on his firm chest for support. She felt a pleasuring shock go through her body and hit the core of her soul - and daresay, of her womanhood also. She smirked. "Then perhaps... We should seek confirmation..." She whispered sexily, purring like a kitten, as she inclined her head even more, her lips barely touching his.

And then, it happened.
 
"Am I?" Sierra asked him, as she leaned over towards him. And it didn't end there. With playful smirk, the wondrous woman placed her hand on his chest. As she did, Gregory felt as if his heart would explode. As if all his feelings coursed through his body to come together in right that moment of contact. Arousal, passion and... and something else thumped in his chest, drummed in his head and rode the tides of his veins.

With burning yellow eyes, Sierra purred: "Then perhaps... We should seek confirmation..." Slowly her moist, soft lips brushed against his. His inner gentleman, valiant and brave, died a quick death, as Greg's pure and naked passion brushed it aside. His strong hands drew the exciting, young woman closer, and he tasted her sweet lips. Goosebumps spread all over his torso as their lips met and Gregory teased Sierra's.

And then, it happened.

Darkness descended on them. It might have been accompanied by a hoarse roar, but Gregory hadn't heard it. A cloud before the moon? The wind toying with the thick curtains? No reason to release the tantalizing lips, surely. Then a bright flash of light flooded the room. The viscount registered the color - it was a deep blue. As he looked over his shoulder Greg also smelled a faint burning smell. As if pig's hair was being singed from it's neck. Then he layed eyes on the source of all the commotion.

Broad jaws, filled with dozens of dagger like teeth, sawed at the magical lattice which covered the castle. A medium sized it's owner. It sat perched on the balcony, just outside Sierra's chambers. It was magical of nature. The mages' protective barrier delayed it, but didn't seem to hurt it. It even seemed to relish in the challenge and slowly but surely chewed through the magic netting. "GODS!!!", Gregory shouted. Quickly he jumped off the bed, grappling for his weapon. For the second time in the same night Gregory found himself protecting his lady, brandishing a rapier. 'Mine, did I just think that', shot through his head.

As he stood there, between the bed - which still held an enchanting promise, and the lady Sierra - he noticed the strain on the magical lattice work. They flared beneath the dragon's onslaught and Gregory could see them weaken. Turning towards Sierra, he said with a voice warm with feeliing for her and cold from the danger they found themselves in: "Quickly, Sierra. Get out of here. I'll cover you!" The bright blue flashed again, pointing out the urgency of their predicament. Then a deep silence banged against their eardrums. A silence so deep it robbed Gregory of his breath. Experience told him what that meant. It meant his mages would be on their way. They would be running, screaming, hopefully chanting as well. Why? Because their magical defenses had failed.

And then, it happened. The dragon (can they smirk?) had chewed his way through the mystic boundary. Thriumph was smeared over his snout, as the huge reptile pushed his head through the open doors. It took a huge gulp of breath. As it did, Gregory could smell the vulcano inside it's belly. Looking around for a shield, he hated to be in caught in the women's quarters. Only a round, decorative shield on the far wall could perhaps yield some protection. Momentarily torn between his duty to the lady and self preservation, he hesitated for a second. Then he leapt for the shield. He doubted he would reach it in time to safe them from the gulf of fire which probably would flood their room within seconds.
 
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