Private Tales Dragon Dreams | Fieravene

[Fieravene]

If there was another way to proposition a dragon other than being unabashedly forward, Fiera knew it not. Red eyes maintained their contact on the single hellfire ocular before her, watching it shift in and out of focus under the weight of burgeoning thoughts. Once upon a time in Ragash she'd offered to show Aivrid how the little folk found ways to enjoy one another - making sport of an event that was otherwise only used for procreation by dragons, so said Aivrid himself.

Though she would not have objected to simply spending the evening conversing with him, either. Not that they couldn't continue this conversation along the way.

"I think I may have become rather fond of your chosen mortal coil," the edge of her smirk had worn under the mental image of the man's figure, "and I personally never believed that familiarity breeds contempt."

 

[Aivrid]

Tag: Fieravene

Breed indeed.

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​

The dragon snorted and raised his head, returning to the regal position of a perched dragon. This relationship he had with Fieravene was an odd one to say the least. It was nothing if not amusing. Someone so driven by simple desires, yet so intriguing -- he was always curious to see what the dark elf would do next. Then again, their encounters did have a tendency to end in rather carnal ways. There was a rhythm emerging here. He couldn't be entirely sure if he liked it.

"Very well, Fieravene," Aivrid rumbled. "I will meet you in your room tonight, down in the village. My lair proper... I believe it would be rather uncomfortable." The cold stone would likely bother a frail human body. And, as much as he loved his gold, it was hardly ideal to lie on.

"If that is all, you may take your leave," he told the dark elf. There was no other business for them to attend to. Back in Kannorgopad the guest house awaited, along with a shaman who would advise her of her mission and a pick of warriors for her to choose from for when she departed. Aivrid spared no expense for her assignment. Perhaps it was a sign of trust, or of the importance of the mission, or both.

 

[Fieravene]

The expression on her face wasn't quite smug, but some other implication of being pleased with the outcome of their conversation. She would have worn it regardless of his answer - any dealings with a dragon where one walks away intact is something to be pleased with in her book.

"Very well," the elf inclined her head politely as Aivrid returned to his regal basking in the moonlight. Only a few steps were taken before she paused, "oh, I nearly forgot. Aivrid, if you would be so kind-" a gesture was made to request he lower his head again, "I have something for you."

She waited, taking a step back as he curled that gargantuan skull back down to her level, indulging her once more. Talk in the orc settlement at the foot of his mountainous lair had informed her that today was a very special day indeed. It might be testing the limits of his patience but certainly she'd gone out for lesser annoyances.

"Happy Birthday," an earnest declaration offered on a warm smile. She leaned up to the toes of her boots and planted a kiss on the dragon's scaly muzzle.

And with that she happily dropped back to her heels, turned, and departed to leave him to his peace.

 

[Aivrid]

Tag: Fieravene

...

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​

"Hm?"

He leaned down, only to be surprised by Fieravene getting very close to his face and doing something. He couldn't quite see. What was she trying? Happy birthday? After that he simply watched her leave.

The dragon returned to his regal posture, inhaling deeply. He could still smell her. That was... intoxicating, oddly.

"What's a birthday?"

He pondered that question for a while longer.