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The Sovereign's Darkflame	By : Lord_Tyrant Category: +G through L > League of Legends Views: 11768 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The following work, concerning the intellectual property of Riot Games (League of Legends), is entirely non-profit and no intention is made to market or unlawfully charge for it.

Chapter List
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Potential bubbles beneath the surface, waiting for the smallest kindling.

*~*

Night had come to Ionia, and at long last, a celebration that had once followed year after year. As the sun sank below the horizon, flames lit braziers, colorful lanterns sprang up, and magic of all kinds went into the air. Drums beat along the street, drawing crowds to their marching dances while actors ran about, silent beneath their animalistic costumes. Others, more humble in their vendor ware, lined walkways and corners, offering treats and wondrous challenges for the discerning warrior in waiting.

These moments were one of the few times Syndra ever saw her people happy in earnest lately. The war with Noxus had cast a shadow over all of Ionia, even here in the farthest eastern fringes. One could go nowhere without hearing a part of it in conversation, or the fear that gripped her people despite the war’s end.

At least we can still do this, she thought, sipping her tea.

A flash of light shot through the wood-barred window, swiftly followed by a muffled crack and pop. Her eyes turned toward it, gazing out into the night sky as a few errant fireworks exploded overhead. What patterns their red-white explosions made she couldn’t tell from her angle. Still, she found it pretty to watch for the few seconds they hung in the sky.

Her glowing eyes turned away as the moonlight returned, and Syndra stared down at the dinner table once more. The same oaken frame as before with its embedded cherry wood top, wondrously polished and sealed in. What is taking her so long? the sovereign wondered, idly tracing her finger on her tea cup.

Syndra refilled it twice by now and still she was nowhere to be found. With a frown, she brought the cup up and downed the tea at once, not really tasting it. At least the lukewarm drink gave her something to do. Her hand, half way to the tea pot, stopped as she caught herself.

No, no. I will spoil dinner.

Perhaps, then, she’d look around the room again. The rather high quality, pricy, reserved room she got for just this evening. Its cream colored walls and their fanciful, iconographic drawings of forests and meadows was nice. The first time around, anyway. Syndra couldn’t help stopping on the thick paper door, scrutinizing its wooden frame accusingly.

Maybe if she concentrated really hard, she’d arrive. At least, not enough so that her magic will wake up—it’d be rather awkward destroying the door on accident. She hadn’t done that since she was five, at least. The shoji remained shut tight and Syndra sighed.

I suppose I will order.

Heavy footsteps reached her ears the moment she decided. This particular room, situated on the far side of the restaurant, was at the end of the hall, which meant it was coming here. Syndra sat up from her slight slouch, neatly smoothing out her cherry pink dress at the same time. A quick pull of the collar, some fluffing of the sleeves, and she readied herself, regal as ever, by the time the door opened.

“You didn’t say you’d be all the way back here!”

The gruff, deep, and feminine voice danced in Syndra’s ears. She regarded the woman with a cool indifference. For what she had expected, a snug set of pants with the upper body of a dress, sleeves and all, wasn’t one of them. The sovereign boggled at the strange, almost contradictory sight. At least she matched the red and white colors?

“You were told the room at the end of the hall, Shyvana,” she remarked, her brow inching upward by the second.

“Yeah, there’s five halls.”

Waving her hand dismissively at the notion, Syndra beckoned to be joined. She watched the dragon approach, climbing the three little stairs up to her. The whole spectacle struck her as odd, seeing the purple-skinned and scaled woman in something other than her rigid armor. The lighter hues of indigo showed much clearer now, much to her surprise. Fuller, and far more tempting to the eye.

Her smaller size—only a head shorter, really—became much more apparent. On the other, the raw power that bubbled beneath within dragon seemed much more … pure. Syndra struggled to put her finger on it exactly. Somehow, despite appearing almost ‘naked’ without her armor, Shyvana remained as imposingly powerful as always. The dragon sat down on the other side of the table, using that unbecoming cross-legged sit she liked. Two golden eyes caught hers, and a sardonic smirk etched its way across Shyvana’s serious face.

“What’s with that staring, hm?”

“I do not stare,” Syndra defended, her nose slightly upturned. “I am merely astonished.”

“Never seen a woman in a dress before?”

“I am not sure pants qualify as a dress, but, no. For the longest time, I had wondered—“ she absently gestured at the dragon “—if that armor of yours came off or not.”

A snortful laugh ripped out of Shyvana. “What? You sit around fantasizing about my armor coming off?”

Syndra paused for a brief moment. You would be surprised.

While it would be all too funny to say, but far more impolite than she liked. “I remind you I know little of real dragons. For all I know, it might indeed have been your actual body.”

“Psssh. Please. Rest assured that it does come off, then!” With a lift of her arms over her head, Shyvana struck a pose. The long sleeves of her dress slipped down, exposing more of her scaly, purple-skinned arms. It was indecent by Ionian standard, yet Syndra stared all the same.

She’s quite … strong, she marveled, a hint of Shyvana’s muscular biceps adding to her already convincing forearms. Every twitch and move of her arms only served to demonstrate how utterly defined they really were. “Y-yes, yes,” the sovereign grumbled, if only to disguise her interest. Shyvana shot a grin at her, but set herself in a more decent posture.

“I don’t wear heavy armor for nothing, you know.”[][]

“I would imagine so,” Syndra said, her words half-swallowed by the tea cup she sipped from.

Shyvana squinted at the assembled ceramic set with its two pots and four cups. “Is this all tea?”

“Yes.” Syndra smirked at the distasteful frown that followed the answer. “You will be pleased to note I had one of the more sweet varieties prepared.” While her cup set down, she pointed with her free hand at the untouched pot and its tray. A faint, dark purple glow surrounded the white ceramic, and the tea set lifted off the table. They gently glided from the center to in front of Shyvana, setting down with a quiet clink.

“Sweet, she says.” Shyvana unceremoniously leaned forward and plucked the pot’s lid off, and gave it a curious sniff. “There’s honey, right? This doesn’t smell sweet to me.”

“Do you only drink pure sweetness?” Syndra retorted. “But, yes, there is sugar in the one beside it.”

“Beer, ale, and a good mead. A woman doesn’t need anything else. I don’t know how you stand this … leafy, plant water.”

“Perhaps I should have them bring out all the wine, then.”

Some sort of unagreeable sound came out of the dragon while she took a tentative sip of the sweet tea. Her nose curled unhappily at first, but when the tea cup came down, an indecisive yet hopeful curl of her thin brows told a different story. “Where is the food, anyway? There’d be rows of it already out in Demacia.”

“And this is not Demacia.” Syndra clicked her tongue, but smirked anyway. “This is a luxurious restaurant.”

“The hell is a ‘restaurant’?”

“You sit down, and a waiter comes for your order after reviewing the menu.”

Utter bemusement overcame Shyvana. “Alright, so how do we order?”

“… A better question begins with, ‘Where are the menus’?” Syndra mused aloud, looking around the table. Frowning, she sighed and clapped her hands loudly. Half a minute later, a knock came from the door in a familiar pattern.

“Bring the waiter,” Syndra commanded to her unseen servant, and the shadow behind the shoji bowed in acknowledgement.

“Wait, so you can order anything you want?” Shyvana inquired, curiosity about her when she leaned forward.

“You can order what is on the menu. Some chefs will do requests, if they the means and skill to do so.”

“That’s so weird. Not bad weird, or anything!” A purple-skinned hand waved hurriedly. “Why not just have everything out to eat?”

“Food is another form of art in Ionia. The skills of one chef differ from another, and even two restaurants side-by-side can serve very different styles.”

“You telling me I could eat a steak, then go over and eat another, more different steak?”

“In simple terms, yes,” Syndra returned dryly. She blinked at the dreamy eyed look that overcame Shyvana, a ridiculous sort of giddiness to her she’d never seen before. The sovereign bit her lip, but her cheeks puffed with repressed laughter.

“Ionia is amazing,” Shyvana drawled with an over the top ridiculousness.

That sparkly, wide-eyed stare and comical voice tickled Syndra right into a bellyful laugh. Her hand flew to her mouth in a vain effort to stifle it, and she had to lean onto the table. Shyvana returned to her more normal seriousness after that, a wry grin to her while Syndra struggled to calm down.

“Got ya.”

“Please.” Syndra wiped her eyes, mindful of the light makeup. “Shall I take you to every restaurant? I am sure they would enjoy hosting a dragon.”

“Maybe another night.” Shyvana’s thin blue lips, painted in a slight hue of red, spread in a devious smile. “Be careful, I might eat you out of house and home.”

“You are welcome to try.”

Golden eyes widened in earnest surprise.

Their banter was interrupted by the shoji sliding open. Her servant returned, beckoning in a finely dressed, older man in Ionian server wear of an oversized shirt and pants. He gave a quarter bow before ascending the steps and gently placing two menus upon the table. With a smile, he stepped back down, his gaze politely upon the floor while he waited.

With a flourish of her hand, Syndra held her palm open and the menu flew into it. She unrolled the small scroll, scrutinizing its single page listing. An irritable grunt came from Shyvana, who did much the same. Without moving her head, the sovereign’s eyes flicked up.

“Is something the matter?”

“Yeah, ‘bout that.” Shyvana awkwardly flipped the scroll over, showing Syndra the menu. “Magic might let me speak your tongue, kind of, not read it.”

A vexed feeling made Syndra’s brow crease. That would be an issue.

“If I might,” the servant interjected, his old voice low and proper. Their eyes turned to him, and at Syndra’s rising gesture, he stood up a bit straighter, his eyes on Shyvana. “I know every meal by heart. What might interest you, my good lady?”

With a thoughtful hum, the dragon’s fingers idly picked at her chin. “Steak and chicken … lots of ‘em.”

“A few come to mind. Would you care to try any fish tonight?”

Shyvana’s lips curled distastefully. “Unless you caught it yesterday, I doubt it’s any good.”

A smile, one might be at a stretch to call it ‘smug’, crossed the servant’s face. “Would today’s catch suffice?”

“… Sure, why not.”

Syndra was grateful she had enough tact not to ask if it was fresh. Though the server turned a curious gaze toward her, she regarded him dispassionately. Over the next few minutes, she drilled out her order of food and wine. It took a couple minutes more to convince him yes, she did in fact want an order size enough for six people. If she hadn’t seen Shyvana’s appetite first hand, she would’ve been just as incredulous.

“Heh. That’s still weird,” Shyvana grumbled after the server departed.

“What is?”

“People looking at me like I’m not a flick of scum off a Noxian boot.”

“I have told you that—“

“Yes, yes, dragons are highly respected, blah blah blah. It’s still weird.”

Syndra squinted from being cut off, but settled for rolling her eyes. “If you are still unconvinced, I can arrange for the Elders in charge of the festival to know.” Shyvana’s captivating gaze shot toward hers, abject shock in them. “A dragon guest would have everyone coming to see you.”

“You-you’re just messing with me, aren’t you?” the dragon accused, pointing at Syndra dramatically.

“… Perhaps.” Syndra hid her smile behind a sip of tea, but she couldn’t stop it from widening at Shyvana’s huff. Still, when she lowered the cup, her eyes lingered on her dear friend. Despite the strange mix of sleeved dress and pants, a particularly feminine taste hung about the dragon. It wasn’t completely loose, rather hugging to Shyvana’s muscular frame in a few eye-catching spots on her shoulders and hips.

She was so much smaller looking and altogether an alluring woman to gaze upon. Syndra hurriedly disguised her inspection when Shyvana caught her staring, absently waving her hand. “In all seriousness, do not be so surprised. Even I am taken, with quite the intrigue, by the stunning beauty you possess.”

Verbosity had its uses, as far as Syndra was concerned, especially when magical translation got stuck in it.

Shyvana, half-way to a frown, looked at her skeptically. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I am only saying that, here in Ionia, you will find eyes not only because you are a dragon. Do not tell me that is so strange?” The sovereign merely inclined her head and took another sip of tea. Syndra hadn’t planned this ill-formed idea all the way through. All she wanted was to give a simple compliment, now those eyes were fixated quite firmly on her.

“When you can count with both hands the number of people who do that, yeah, it’s strange,” Shyvana said with utter seriousness. She cracked a smile when Syndra balked, however. “You’re sweet, though. At least someone appreciates when I wear a stupid dress.”

“Half a dress,” Syndra muttered while pouring more tea, if only to distract herself.

“This is a half-dress, on a half-dragon?”

Syndra’s face scrunched to a point of sheer, incredulous pain for just a moment, and Shyvana’s throaty laugh filled the room. She fought the urge to smile, lest she give the woman more reason to continue. “I thought you despised that,” she noted with a touch of airy politeness.

“No point denying it.”

“If you say so.” An ambivalent effort, but Syndra knew well how volatile the subject truly was. “Nonetheless, I will, ahem, thank you, for accompanying me this evening.”

“Ehh? Isn’t that my job?” Shyvana scoffed with a shrug of her shoulders. “You invited me.”

“Of course. You were not going to take me anywhere in Ionia otherwise.”

Shyvana held up a finger, a sort of ‘wait, hold on’ look crossing her furrowed brow. Whatever answer she may have come up with was cut off by a knock at the shoji. Shortly after, the server returned, accompanied by younger looking people with trays and trays of food. Her eyes—quite literally—lit up at the sight.

The servers set the food out in neat, curved rows, with meat in the center, and vegetables and noodles off to the sides. Three trays were set before Syndra, while over ten struggled to find a sensible place in front of Shyvana. All of them were quiet during their work, but Syndra could see their curious eyes shooting back and forth.

Her scowl sped them up, and in a few short minutes, the room was empty once more. Only then did she lean forward to take a dainty sniff of the meal, and an almost painful rush of mouthwatering hunger struck. She reached into her dress and retrieved a silky white napkin, covering her mouth.

Shyvana, meanwhile, was already shoveling different foods onto her plate.

Syndra’s eye twitched as it continued to pile up. “You will ruin the flavor by doing that.”

“Eh?” Shyvana blinked at her, a food plate tilted to drop more onto hers. “Really?”

“… I can name six dishes alone that should not be mixed together. Just, try to eat them on their own plates first.”

“Why bother cooking food then?”

“I cannot imagine even Demacians find the idea of plated food strange.” Syndra squinted at Shyvana, who stuck her tongue out at her. Nonetheless, the dragon seemed to settle for what she had and sat back, staring at her expectantly. “What is it?”

“Aren’t you going to do that, you know, dinner ritual? Whatever Ionian’s call it.”

“It is a prayer, as you know—“ Her smile froze as her brain caught up with what the rest of her mouth was saying. Shyvana smacked the table as she guffawed, nearly knocking her drink over in the process. Though she shut up quickly to save the cup, the snarky little laugh didn’t leave. Syndra squinted at her all the while, wanting to be annoyed, yet finding it hard to do so.

There was something in the way the dragon laughed. Mocking, certainly, but friendly, and despite her normally intimidating exterior, she looked at ease. A little flutter passed through Syndra when she realized she stared too long, and the sovereign turned to her food. Perhaps, in selecting the plates for her opening meal, she might disguise her inadvertent ogling.

How I entertain this bothersome fancy of mine …

*~*

“Thank you for coming!” the restaurant staff sang in a chorus behind them as they left.

Cool night air washed over them, and Syndra hurriedly lifted herself from the ground, hovering a few inches. “Hmph! It is far colder than it should be this time of year.”

“Ah, but it’s so nice!” Shyvana stretched her arms overhead, leaning back a little as well. Her already well-fit dress clung tighter to her, if such a thing were possible. “Cold is good for me! Not so much a high class lady like you, hm?”

“I am dressed well enough for it,” Syndra said finally, her nose a little upturned.

Attendants shuffled out of the restaurant behind them, heads bowed. “Where to next, my lady?” the leader asked.

Dutiful and loyal, but they irritated her on the occasion. Syndra waved her hand dismissively. “You are all free for the evening. Enjoy the festival, and return to the fortress before dawn.”

“If you will it so, my lady, but who will escort you?”

The others shuffled together behind the leader, looking to one another.

“You are dismissed.”

They bowed at Syndra’s command and hurriedly left down the street.

“If you wanted alone time with me, you could’ve just asked,” Shyvana remarked, arms folded behind her head.

“I do not ask,” Syndra shot back. “It either is, or is not. Now, accompany me, there is more I want to show you.”

"Yes, my lady, right away,” Shyvana said with a mocking accent. Nonetheless, she fell in step beside the sovereign, grinning at the sidelong glance going her way.

“Do not say such a thing lightly,” Syndra warned with a dark tone, eyes narrowed. “I might become used to hearing it.”

“Eh?”

A victory for her. Syndra fought to keep her smirk from spreading.

In leaving the side street the restaurant sat in, they reached one of the few main thoroughfares of the town. The central part was more planned than by happenstance with its neat rows and grid-like layout, giving the people easy-to-navigate roads. For them, the modest crowds and hustling merchants didn’t pay much attention. There were those curious souls, however, with far too much free time that soon saw them.

“There’s the staring again,” Shyvana muttered under her breath, loud enough Syndra could hear.

“Does it bother you?”

“Fear I can live with, but those kids look like they wanna tackle me to the ground.”

Syndra blinked, and as subtly as possible, followed Shyvana’s weary look. A small gathering of what might be two or three families sat ahead and across the street. The children animatedly pointed toward them, earning scolds from their parents, but drawing their curious eyes too. “These are the eastern provinces …”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“The Endless Sea borders much of these lands. Perhaps they believe you a water born spirit, come to give good blessings to the festival?”

“… because of my skin?”

Syndra stared back at her.

“Right, of course.”

They continued on. A bell tolled in the distance.

“Would their parents really let them?”

A different sort of tone sat in Shyvana’s voice: hard sounding, but lacking the weight of such. Syndra weighed what words to use, only finding them after they had already passed the group. “Strangeness is not uncommon in Ionia,” she said, her dimly glowing eyes lifting up to the night sky. “It is not that we are ignorant of danger, but hopeful of new opportunity. Otherwise, we may never find the prosperous paths waiting for us.”

“Doesn’t really matter if their kids get killed, does it?”

“If such happens, then that is what happened. It does not mean it will, or can, always be so.”

Shyvana grunted and scratched her head, which in turn messed up some of her bound hair. “I guess.”

Even now you are still afraid of that? Syndra wondered, a perturbing feeling nagging at her. Time and again, no matter how much she tried, Shyvana only ever saw the worst of what could happen. Would it not ruin the night, the sovereign seriously considered telling the Elders of her. At the least, the riots that would come clamoring for Shyvana’s attention might dispel her disbelief.

“… Where are we going, anyway?”

“A garden,” Syndra remarked and kept her eyes from Shyvana’s inquisitive stare. “We are nearly there.”

The walk carried on in an unpleasant silence.

The sovereign took silent relief when they left the busy streets. The gardens themselves had fewer people—monks, couples, and the odd vendor with their little hand-drawn carts. Here, in the long-leafed trees, glowing flowers, and lantern-lit paths, she hoped for a more quiet setting.

Though, were she to be honest, the way Shyvana looked around was … something else. Bemused, but intrigued, not unlike cats she had seen once. Syndra, for however much she wanted to explain every little thing the dragon looked at, refrained. They were well on their way down a cobblestone path at a leisurely pace, and the quiet didn’t need her interrupting it.

“I’ve visited for over two years now,” Shyvana said, sounding whimsical, “and this land still surprises me.”

“How would that be?”

The dragon’s face scrunched in a thoughtful way, indecisive. “Demacia is very … rigid. Everything has a place, or is put into a place.” A smile cracked its way across her face, ever at odds with the seriousness in her eyes. “Ionia is, too, but not always. I feel like I’m in the forests, but I’m not alone, either.”

“I should hope not when I am beside you,” Syndra noted dryly.

“That’s not what I meant!” Shyvana laughed. “Going out in the wild, living there … it …” As quick as her good humor came, it vanished. “You’re always counting on yourself. Ionians don’t live that life.”

“Some do, though not for the same reasons.” Syndra glanced up to the starry night sky. “Everything has its place for us, but we do not look to dictate everything to be in a place. I could bore you with the great earth and heaven again, if you wish.”

“As tempting as it is to listen to you, I’d skip that one.”

Wait … Syndra’s brow creased. She barely had time to consider if she had been teased before Shyvana took the lead. Cast in the light of stars and lanterns, the dragon twirled her way down the path, arms open, her dress fluttering from the antics. Silly in its own way, but purposeful, and to Syndra’s eye, all too captivating to watch.

A bell tolled in the distance.

Half way through a spin, Shyvana froze, those golden eyes peering through the darkness at her. Syndra blinked, a tinge of nervousness in her belly at how intense the gaze was.

“Come now, surely you’re not here to just walk with me?” the dragon taunted, the slightest shift in posture making her more threatening. “A beast like me needs more entertainment than that!”

Syndra’s brow ticked at the less-than-savory naming. “As I would have it, there is something I wanted to show you.”

Head tilting to the side, Shyvana squinted with blatant curiosity.

“Come, there is a bench over here.” Syndra curled her fingers beckoningly, and Shyvana followed, perked up and alert. The sovereign sat down on the white-wood seating, folding her hands neatly on her lap. Shyvana joined beside her, sitting a little close.

“So what is it?” she asked, peering intently at Syndra.

“It will be any minute now. I will warn you, it can be quite loud.”

Whether from disbelief or interest, Syndra watched her companion look around, peering at the sleepy garden. She found it all too enjoyable how readily Shyvana showed her own interests in things. Ionians, with their many different faces, made it difficult for simple conversation sometimes. Wide eyes, a frown, displeasure, or rapt captivation; she could trust whatever Shyvana showed, for better or worse.

Oh, she was watching Shyvana too much again. The sovereign averted her eyes upward when the dragon looked back at her.
“Is it some kind of magic trick?”

Syndra smirked. “No. Not usually. I myself was surprised to find that out.”

“Then what—“

A shrill, metallic squeal pierced the cool night quiet, jolting Shyvana. Her head snapped upward, joining Syndra in watching the sky. The light of something burning rocketed upwards, barely a glint in the sparkling sea. It vanished, but only for a split second, and an explosion of color cast everything in its light. The dragon jumped off the bench, falling over backwards and into the flowers as the firework’s star-like pattern fizzled out.

Syndra, try as she might, couldn’t stop laughing into her hand. The other gripped her knee in a poor attempt at keeping composure. “D-do not startle so easy, dragon!”

“Why are they shooting cannons?!” Shyvana barked, pointing at where the firework had just been. “We’re being attacked?”

“No, no no! That is not it at all!”

“What are they doing then?”

“If you get up and watch, you might see.” With a widespread grin, Syndra extended her hand out and helped Shyvana get up again. The dragon sat beside her once more, but, in the strangely rough-textured hold of Shyvana’s hand, Syndra forgot to take hers back. “A show like this only comes once a year.”

“A show?”

“Yes. The Art of Sky Painting.” Deep, resounding thuds followed behind Syndra’s words. “Look, there is more!”

She pointed with her free hand, both of their eyes following a sparkling light into the sky. A colorful flash of blue and green filled their eyes, a vague scene of flowing rivers and rolling hills. Shyvana stiffened as soon as she saw it, but it was the half-second later ‘bang’ that made her jump in her skin again.

“Why is it so bloody loud?”

“Fire is not exactly quiet, as you would know.” Syndra bit the inside of her cheek to stop from smiling at Shyvana’s glare.

Another thud, another light in the sky. They turned to watch, and a blooming yellow mountain stretched before them. The angle was slightly off, but Syndra suspected the white lights were for the snowcapped tips. A grin spread across her lips freely now. “Ah, so that is what they are doing.”

“Eh?”

“You will enjoy this next one if I am right.”

They waited in silence while the lights faded and the smoke drifted away. A faint smell of fire powder tickled Syndra’s nose, but that was the norm with these events. In its own way, it actually reminded her of Shyvana. Burnt and crackly, but hers had a hint of smoke that no candle or wood could hope to emulate. A wispy, almost ethereal quality that reminded her more of fire than anything else.

The thud of cannons made her, lost in thought, jump this time. With how fixated she remained staring upward, she hardly paid any mind how Shyvana pulled her closer.

A great many lights rocketed into the sky with their fantastical trails. They petered out into the murky darkness, and all the town held its breath with theirs. Green and blue blossomed before them, the rivers and lands returned. Mountains erupted forth, jutting out tall and proud. Third explosions filled the void between, giving an impression of a true painting filled to the brim with the great lands Ionia.

The flaming sparkles of this sky borne tapestry wobbled, heaving as if the air itself sucked in a breath. In its mighty exhale, a swathe of teal and luminous sparking jade shot out, uncoiling from the abyss. Yet, where the rest lingered, the flames drew themselves forward into a mighty scaled serpent, its thick plates and elongated head power itself.

“A dragon?” Shyvana mumbled, somewhere between surprise and disbelief.

It swirled over the lands in the sky, its head sweeping as it surveyed all before it. For the briefest moment, Syndra felt it look at the two of them with its gleaming red eyes, but it passed as quickly as it came. Stretching its small arms around the waters and mountains, the dragon curled itself into a ball, huddling all of Ionia in its protective grasp.

And so, the image faded, the magic and powder alike extinguished at last.

Syndra smiled joyfully at the sight, feeling more herself in the emptiness of the display’s departure. “A good omen.”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“It is said the fire workers hear the whispers of the dragons, and through it, they let them speak on these nights. Last year’s display was quite different from this one.”

“… They probably do.”

Blinking with surprise, Syndra looked over. “What?”

“Draconic magic was in that,” Shyvana remarked simply, staring at the sky still. “Not any kind I recognize, but it was a dragon alright.”

At a loss for words, Syndra could only look up, wondrous. Nothing felt out of the ordinary to her, no more than any other presence of magic would. Was she blind to it, somehow? Such a dragon would have to be exceedingly skilled. That idea alone made her uneasy as much as curious.

“Then,” she added after a minute of silence, “I can only take it for the good omen it is.”

“Yeah.”

And Shyvana agreed with her as well? Such good fortunes lifted her spirits, and Syndra stood up. “Come, there is something—“ A tug at her hand made her look down, and she realized the two of them were holding each other. Shyvana, too, must’ve realized as well, for their eyes met in a long stare.

The dragon pulled herself up, and grinned. “Helping me up? How courteous.”

“Yes, of course,” the sovereign responded, more out of habit than thought. She withdrew her hand, folding it with the other at her front. “Follow me.”

Without waiting, Syndra turned, drifted a few inches from the ground, and glided forward. Only when her hands were out of Shyvana’s sight did she fidget and rub the one that had held the dragon earlier. A phantom of sensation lingered, that of rough skin, scales, and heat—more than the sort a person might have, a kind of bubbling, liquid warmth.

Perhaps she could've dismissed the matter were it not for the fact how very nice it felt holding Shyvana’s hand. It was beyond anything she had imagined before.

*~*

A peculiar sensation interrupted her pleasant mood, and Syndra tsk’d under her breath.

“What?” Shyvana asked.

“I require a modesty’s stop, for a moment,” Syndra remarked airily. They were, thankfully, still on a main thoroughfare street, with shops of all kinds lining both sides. As the night wore on the dutiful families had begun to thin out, the crowds became far more manageable.

“A what … oh.”

“Ahem, yes. There is one here, I will be a moment.” Regretfully letting go of Shyvana’s hand, Syndra went into the women’s restroom. She likened herself to be quick about it, but a particular care was necessary for her dress. In the end, nearly ten minutes later, she emerged all freshened up. The sovereign peered around, taking keen note of the dragon’s utter absence. A triumphant shout, undoubtedly Shyvana’s, caught her ear.

When she found her, the dragon was busy receiving something from a man in a stall. A game booth? she wondered. By her reckoning, one involving thrown balls or rings, though the game seemed finished already.

Shyvana, her prize in hand, turned around, and nearly jumped at seeing Syndra.

“What are you doing?”

“Passing the time,” Shyvana returned, sounding uneasy. “Are you ready?”

“Yes …?” Syndra spied at the thing in the dragon’s hands, but Shyvana twisted away to hide it. “Let us go.”

“Right.”

It proved hard not noticing Shyvana’s fidgeting. When they passed from the busy part of the street, and began heading into the quieter sections, the dragon cleared her throat. Syndra rolled her eyes before turning toward her. “What?”

“It’s—well, I have something for you,” Shyvana said, and then stiffly held out her hands. In them sat a stuffed doll of a kind, based on a black-and-white bear in some parts of Ionia; larger than what children had, but not inordinately difficult to carry. “A gift. If it’s not, you know, too terrible.”

Staring down at the offering incredulously, Syndra stood there beside herself for a moment. She tentatively took the doll into her hands, feeling its authentic but cheap fur. It wasn’t of a bad quality, though certainly far below what she could have commissioned. Perhaps, simply said, she found nothing utterly remarkable about it, save one thing.

A gift, freely given, just for her to have. When was the last time I ever had one of these?

“I couldn’t really—“

“Thank you,” Syndra cut her off.

“I … well, as long as you like it,” Shyvana said, scratching the back of her head.

“I do.” The stuffed doll disappeared into her dress, neatly tucked away to free her hands. She beckoned to continue on while an airy warmth filled her chest.

A short walk later revealed what the sovereign sought. Nestled in a flattened, gravel-stone covered area, sat a merchant and his cart. Small enough to be pushed by one lonesome soul, a garish tapestry of sugary words and bowls of fluffy whiteness covered the sides. The cart worker perked up at their approach, his old eyes widening when he saw them properly.

“Welcome, welcome!” he said, jovially slapping a flimsy paper fan on the counter-top of the cart. “For what can I help beautiful young women such as yourselves?”

“And what flavors would you have this evening?” Syndra inquired.

The man straightened, regarding her with a touch more seriousness. “Why, all of them, my lady.”

“Then, I will have your best bowl with a strawberry taste.”

“Of course, and for you …?” He looked toward Shyvana.

“Uhh, what is it?” the dragon asked, scratching her cheek.

“Oho?” The man’s brows climbed up and he smiled widely, some of his teeth missing. “You haven’t had any before? I shall give you one of my greatest bowls as well. Tell me, what flavor is your fancy?”

“… Honey?”

The cart worked laughed as he turned around. “Honey! Oh, this will be very sweet, then.”

Leaning over to Syndra, Shyvana whispered, “What the hells is this?”

“Shh,” the sovereign commanded, a finger on her own lips. The two of them watched the elderly man work, his hands plucking out a yellowish-block the size of his palms from inside the cart. He dunked it into a bowl of white flour, coating it thoroughly before gently ramming a hole into the middle of it with a wooden tool.

“How have you two found the festival tonight?” he asked, squinting at the holed block in his hands. Twisting and turning it over and over, he worked it into a larger, more rounded loop-like shape.

“Splendid,” Syndra answered. “Good food and company, and a good omen as well tonight.”

“Ah, you saw old Talgin eh?” He chuckled, but grunted as he stretched the loop out. “I haven’t seen him since my young years … never thought I would again, either.”

“Who is Talgin?” Shyvana interjected.

“Whaaat? You don’t know about old Talgin? Haha! You’re not from around here, are you?”

“We visit from the far western provinces,” Syndra said. “Eastern treats are new for her.”

“The west, eh? How are things there?” Loop over loop, the man twisted and turned the sugar rope, slathering it in flour every step of the way. “Them violent curs minding themselves?”

“They will be off our lands by the year’s end.”

“Waaah?” The man looked up, surprised. “Truly?”

Shyvana and Syndra nodded, and he laughed loudly. “Wonderful, wonderful. People like them don’t belong in Ionia.”

By now, the honey had been looped so many times, hundreds of thin strands now stretched between the cart worker’s hands. Shyvana leaned a little closer the more he did it, a touch of incredulity to her eyes. “How did you do that?”

“Hm? Do what?” The cart worker paused for a moment, giving the nearly thousand strands of sugar rope a playful pluck.

“It was a block a minute ago!”

Syndra hid her mouth behind her hand, but not her laughter. Shyvana’s incredulous look only made her laugh even harder. The cart worker joined in as well with his jovial chuckling. In quick order, the hair-thin threads were splayed out onto a cutting board, and the cart worker started sectioning them off.

“But, anyway,” he said, “old Talgin is the guardian of the Endless Sea. It is he whom we give tribute to for calm winds and bountiful harvest. Or at least, so the saying goes.”

He finished up by placing bowlfuls of the stringy sugar into their ceramic dishes. Two small bottles followed, and a light drizzling of honey and strawberry topped the fluffy white treat. “Here you two are!” the cart worker declared, holding out their bowls to them.

Syndra fetched her coin purse and paid, making the man bow politely. With a courteous wave, she prompted Shyvana to follow, and they left again to walk into the village’s gardens.

“Ish shuu stuicky,” Shyvana slurred, a clump of the treat already in her mouth. “Aht teh fuk?”

“Enjoy it slowly!” Syndra chastised before taking a smaller lump for herself. Even her careful, articulated efforts couldn’t spare her fingers from the sticky sweet trap. A sugary sharp pang of deliciousness struck her as she nibbled on the lump. “Mmhm! So good.”

The sovereign spied over toward her companion, all but freezing on the spot at what she saw. The stringy treat had found its way onto Shyvana’s fingers and hands, but it was the dragon’s impressively long tongue that caught her attention. Seven, maybe eight inches, and how it slithered over the dragon’s hand simply astonished her.

Though this time, she had no excuse when Shyvana’s gaze found her staring again. The dragon paused mid lick, one brow slowly crawling upward. Shyvana’s whole neck flexed as she sucked her tongue back into her mouth, a tiny slurping gulp signaling its disappearance.

“See you something you like?” she asked, her lips pursed in a barely restrained smirk.

“How does …” Syndra paused, and looked around, if only for her own modesty to see they were utterly alone. She leaned in a little closer, to which Shyvana leaned in more with a wider smile, and whispered, “How does it fit in there?”

The dragon blinked owlishly, regarding her with wide, dumbfounded eyes. “Uh … it’s my tongue. Why wouldn’t it go in my mouth?”

“But it is so very—“ Syndra emphasized the rest with her hands, awkwardly holding the bowl in one, and drawing a seven-inch space between them.

A snorting laugh ripped out of Shyvana, sending the dragon bending backward. “Really? That surprises you?!”

Sighing and rubbing the bridge of her nose, Syndra waited for Shyvana’s short bout of laughing to subside. Somewhere between a tinge of her own embarrassment and amusement, she said, “Incredulous, not surprised. It is a very strange thing to see!”

“A strange thing,” Shyvana echoed, grinning. “Would that be a good strange, or a bad strange, for an Ionian like you?”

She knew a trap when she saw one, and Syndra squinted at the coy-sounding dragon. It was impossible to say ‘bad strange’, even if she had ever wanted to, but the other one paralyzed her with its impropriety. Not one to be outdone, Syndra lifted her nose ever so slightly, and said, “Good strange. There is nothing wrong about it, if that is what you mean.”

“Heh, funny. Usually women end up running away as soon as they see it.”

“Is that a dragon custom? Showing off your tongue?”

“… What?”

“It is an honest question.”

“I …” Shyvana’s cheeks puffed up. “Yes, it is. We only show it to women we enjoy the company of a lot.”

Ponderous over this new idea, Syndra plucked a soft lump of treat and chewed on it. She paused mid bite as realization began to creep upon her and hurriedly swallowed. “Ah, I see, then this dragon does enjoy my presence after all.”

“Try not to sound too pleased, but I am wearing this dress for you.”

“Wait, why?”

“’Why’ what?”

“You said you are wearing that dress for me. Why is that?” Standing there in the flicking fireworks and moon light, Syndra couldn’t put her finger on Shyvana’s look. The dress was certainly fetching, and it hugged the dragon’s frame lovingly, but she didn’t ask for it. Indeed, she’d enjoy staring at her more if they were at such a point a request like that could be made.

“I’ve no idea what’s going on now!” Shyvana grumbled, scratching at her head and ruffling her hair even more. “Are you messing with me?”

“No.”

“Do you … do you just not like women? Is that it?”

A ticklish sense of nervousness shot down Syndra’s back at hearing that. “How do you mean?”

“Okay, okay, nevermind. It’s nothing, let’s start walking again, it’s getting cold out here.”

The sovereign didn’t have a chance for a word before Shyvana started—quite stiffly—walking forward. An earnest question had left the air flustered and confused, all for reasons she couldn’t tell why. Scowling, an irritable sense gnawed at her gut, and she glided up to beside Shyvana. “You are saying things I do not understand clearly,” she said simply.

“Yeah, I’m just making an idiot of myself, ignore it.”

“I will not! As your friend, you must tell me what it is you meant.”

A frustrated sound escaped Shyvana, the woman holding her hands up. “It’s not something friends say to each other!”

“What people are the ones to say it, then?”

“The ones way beyond being friends.”

“Being obscure is not like you.”

Shyvana stopped on the spot at her remark and turned toward her. A frown, somewhere between a scowl and annoyance, twisted her rough-skinned face. One might even call it frightening, were it not for how familiar Syndra was with such a look. “I’m saving us both from doing something very, very stupid. Can I get that much?”

Drawing herself upright, Syndra stared down, her eyes narrowed. She waved her bowl holding hand, letting the sweet treat float away into the air before lowering herself. Cool, rocky ground met her naked feet, and she resisted the urge to shudder. Shyvana’s scowl turned to one of confusion as she looked up and down at the imperious mage. “I am the sovereign of all Ionia, and I will not have this any longer. Now, tell me, in no uncertain terms, what it is you are talking about.”

Golden eyes fought to find anywhere to look but her. Syndra waited, staring down at Shyvana and her rather strange fidgeting. The dragon picked at her hands with her claws, face twitching between frowns and toothy snarling. A sight like this was one Syndra never imagined to see, much less stand in front of. The whole of Shyvana’s aura anxiously curled with uncertainty, and she couldn’t tell why.

“… You can’t blame me when I tell you,” the dragon grumbled out, breaking the strangely tense silence.

“I won’t.”

“Can you make this bowl go away like that other one?”

“Yes? Here.” And off it went, floating into the air.

Freed of the treat, Syndra watched Shyvana stand ramrod straight, her shoulders squared. Those golden eyes locked with her own, their vertical slits tightly clenched. In all the years she’d known the dragon, this tightly coiled seriousness somehow overshadowed even her fury in battle. The aimless anxiety that crept up on her worsened, and a deeper concern began to nag at Syndra the longer they stared at each other.

Shyvana’s thin lips parted, and she spoke.

“I want you.”

The sovereign blinked. “In what way—“

“Like how a man takes a woman to bed, but a woman taking a woman instead,” Shyvana declared with perfect, unflinching conviction.

Syndra, in the face of those eyes, totally blanked. She heard it; understood it quite well, in fact. Yet, being there, having Shyvana of all people she knew, say it to her, it was beyond anything she imagined. The rush of heat into her chest, or the shrill, bone-gripping freeze that grabbed her for just a moment. Her hand absently pat down her dress, if only to give her something to do while she scrambled for an answer.

“Oh.”

All at once, Shyvana sighed, deflating in defeat. “Yes, I know, and you don’t want it like that. For both our sake’s, just—“

“You are incorrect.”

Jolting as if she had been struck, Shyvana looked up, her pupils dilating in her eyes by the second. “What?”

The heat from her chest shot up to her face, and Syndra averted her eyes to the sky for fear of reddening even more. “It is not men who stir my desires, Shyvana. You and I are very much the same in that regard.”

“I—huh?”

Syndra knew she had to look this matter in the eye, and she did so by gently taking hold of Shyvana’s hands. But, to her utter surprise, red glowing veins had bloomed up Shyvana’s whole neck and face. They pulsed in her purple skin, vibrantly drawing the indigo-like hues forth in their sun-burning glow. This was a sight of Shyvana ready to spit fire, and yet, not a hint of flame to be seen. Are … are you blushing?

Could a dragon blush?

The mere idea of Shyvana blushing at her, somehow made her own blush worsen. “I have often dreamed of such things,” she said, her own sense of propriety well and truly burning with embarrassment at this point. “But, I have only ever dreamed, and it has remained out of my reach for all my life.”

This wasn’t at all how important, life changing moments like this were supposed to go. As far as her stories told her, at least, there was always romantic declarations, and dowries, and impressive feats to win favors. Does Shyvana’s fighting in the war beside me really count for that?

“You’re … you, are a virgin?”

The grass around them flattened to a glassy-smooth surface as the weight of Syndra’s magic flared. “If you want to keep your tongue, do not say that so loudly again!”

Shyvana stared at her, well and truly dumbstruck. “But—but you’re so beautiful! You could have anyone!”

“It is not a matter of having anyone!” Syndra hissed, drawing a finger up to Shyvana’s nose. “It is only about having the right one!” Syndra’s lips pursed, but she didn’t dare take the words back. Her heart hammered in her chest, and sweat threatened to form on her brow, but she stood in spite of her own anxiety.

A small smile spread on Shyvana’s lips, oddly timid for her. Syndra found herself captivated as the dragon clasped her finger-pointing hand in both of those rough ones. “Then, even when I know so much will stop it, may I be that one for you, Syndra?”

Why did such a small sentence lift her heart so? A thrilling relief uncoiled the knot in her belly, but that in itself made Syndra more anxious. “What do you think might stop you from being that one, then?”

“Because,” Shyvana spoke softly, as much as her growly-low voice could. “I am beholden to Demacia, and all that lets me reach your hand is a thin veil of magic. If that was gone, we would be no more.”

“Do you think if such were to happen, I would not come for you?”

Shyvana’s eyes widened.

“I am the sovereign of all Ionia, as I have just told you.” Syndra smiled. “If you are to be the one, then nothing will stand between us.”

“Then, will you?”

Would she? Syndra chuckled, if only to cling to the absurdity of the question over her own nervousness. “I cannot speak much for experi—“ A sharp eep shot out of her as Shyvana’s other hand looped around her backside, pulling her closer. Never before had anyone done so, and the suddenness of something so new made her heart race.

“I want you more than any dragon could want gold,” Shyvana said, the rumbling of her voice strong enough to shake Syndra. “I don’t have a lot of things to give, and I’m not very good with words, but, I can make you my woman, and I can make you happy.”

Syndra jumped her in skin, clenching her teeth as Shyvana’s hand grabbed her butt through her dress. Despite all the layers, it enveloped enough to squeeze her firmly, and the heat of that draconic blood warmed her pleasantly. “Y-your woman, is it?” she asked, winching at her own chirp. “You have yet to prove a dragon worthy of my bed!”

Flickers of crimson shot through Shyvana’s eyes and a throaty, growling hum came, the first sort of sound Syndra ever heard from her. Somewhere between human and dragon, pleased but energetic like anger. “Then shall I, Syndra?”

The sovereign shuddered, the sound of her own name and Shyvana’s presence utterly tantalizing. This thrill stood far apart from battle or magic, a realm of something utterly new. Never had she imagined her very first encounter to go like this. No scroll of spoke of someone so bold, or a touch so powerful it made her skin tingle through her dress. If anything, the stories they told seemed utterly pale by comparison.

It made her cold toes curl a little the longer she thought on it.

“Come, Shyvana,” Syndra commanded, though her imperious tone was soft. “Entertain me with your skill and prove worthy of being my woman.”

A snorting flare of her nose came as Shyvana stood straighter, a determined warrior’s gleam to her eyes.

They stood there, staring at each other.

And stood there …

Shyvana’s golden eyes peeked from side to side. “Uhh, how do we get to your bedroom from here?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes. One moment.”

*~*

The ride back to her fortress was perhaps the tensest Syndra ever took. Traveling through the village, sitting upon the carrier, making sure all her attendants were in line, then having Shyvana sitting and staring at her so close by. The heat of the moment had passed, and yet a greater anticipation had filled her, a realization the ‘her’ that morning would’ve laughed as impossible.

I was actually that awkward. Oh, do not think about it.

Her head spun at the idea, and she was thankful how it easy it was to be commanding to her servants. A familiar routine, unblemished by her own swimming thoughts. At the least, everything went normal until they were walking through the quiet hall that lead to her private quarters. Alone together.

I am really doing this with Shyvana.

… How was she even going to do it?

My own body I know well, but another woman? What is there to do? The same technique I already know, or is there something different? Perhaps more because she is a half-dragon?

“Nervous?” Shyvana’s amused voice cut through her idle thoughts.

The sovereign looked over, mustering up her stately-empowerment to regard her soon-to-be lover. “Thoughtful, would be the word I use.”

Grinning in the lantern light of the hallway, Shyvana said, “Oh? What kind of thoughts?”

“Ones I would find improper to say.”

“Oh, let me hear them!” Shyvana begged, stepping a little closer. In doing so, she slipped an arm around Syndra’s hip, her grip firm.

There she was, being pulled into Shyvana again, that incredibly hardy body squished into hers. It was one matter to know how strong Shyvana was, and quite another to feel how pliable her own body could be against hers. Syndra bit her lip, and without saying anything, slowly slid her own hand onto Shyvana’s rear. Smooth fabric covered the slight bumps she felt, and indeed, she had her first thrilling handful of the dragon’s butt.

“You can grab a lot harder than that,” Shyvana whispered, smiling up at a surprised Syndra. “I like a strong touch.”

“The clothes make it difficult.”

“That’s half the fun.”

Syndra’s brow cocked upward.

The paper-screen door to her bedroom came up, utterly unremarkable. She stopped suddenly and Shyvana nearly walked past her. “Here.”

“Hm? Really?”

“Yes, really,” Syndra returned dryly. Sweeping the back of her hand across the shoji, a touch of magic helped slide it open for them. Wiping her feet on the tiny rug at the entrance, she stepped through, a sense of familiarity laced with trepidation on her. She turned back to Shyvana, whom stared at her with a smile, and found herself smiling back.

Holding out her hand inviting, the sovereign commanded, “Come inside.”

“Aren’t you formal?” Shyvana said, taking Syndra’s hand and stepping in ‘daintily’. A sharp snort of a laugh escaped Syndra at the display, and Shyvana giggled with her.

“Is politeness that strange?”

“When a woman pulls me into her bedroom? Heheh, it’s a little charming.”

A prickling suspicion arose in Syndra, one she wasn’t sure if she wanted to—or should—ask. “They do not treat you so well?”

“There’s a lot more pulling at my clothes, maybe a little hair grabbing.”

“Oh.” Syndra waved the shoji closed and turned to her large bedroom. Overly spacious by Ionian standards, her floor bedding lay to the right beneath a window, and her private closet to the left. A recessed part of the wall the bedroom door was a part of kept a small, shrine-like enclosure keeping her formal dress and armor. She took out the stuffed doll from her dress and waved it away with magic, setting it next to the shrine for later. Her aimless eyes fell onto the other shoji at the far side of the room, a door that led to the outside.

A touch of sweat threatened to form the longer the few seconds they stood there. She glanced at Shyvana from the corner of her eye, only to find Shyvana’s scaled, warm hand grasping hers firmly. Tentatively stepping forward, she tugged Shyvana to follow her. “Would you care for a drink?”

“Sure,” Shyvana said, thin lips peeled into a toothy smile.

Crossing the tan tatami floor, Syndra waved open the other shoji, and a draft of cool air blew into them. What lay beyond stood perhaps one of her most carefully cultivated personal projects. A wood porch led down into a small gravel path that led into the garden. Neat rows of flowers, berry bushes, and other shrubbery flanked this path, each section neatly arranged. Billowing trees, uplifted from different parts of Ionia, dotted the expanse, and though they couldn’t see it from where they were, small hovels for sitting were neatly made underneath them.

“Your plants are, uh, glowing?”

Syndra giggled at the incredulous tone. Even better, she found the small porcelain-jade tray had been laid out on the porch as she ordered to. “Sit with me,” she said, guiding Shyvana out onto the wood deck. They settled down next to the drinks, Syndra neatly on her knees, while Shyvana took to being cross-legged as always. “This is my personal garden,” she remarked, drawing the tray close. “I have handcrafted everything you see here.”

An appreciative sounding hum came out of Shyvana. “You Ionians love to garden, don’t you?”

“It is good for the soul.” Syndra plucked up the thin wine bottle, mulling over the small label on it. Nodding to herself, she sat back with it, and a small tinge of magic brought both cups floating up with her. “You might like this flavor, though I would not call it strong.”

Leaning over, Shyvana pressed into Syndra to take a whiff of the drink before it had even been poured. A sharp, throaty cough broke out of her and she covered her mouth with a hand. “What is that?” she squeezed out, patting her chest. “It’s strong as bloody fire!”

“Merely the scent of it,” Syndra returned airily. Tipping the bottle, she set to pouring their drinks out, a tiny smile on her face. “You should be honored. I have not poured wine for anyone not in my family before.”

A flustered noise came out of Shyvana at that. Syndra looked up with a touch of surprise at the cute sound, only to find the dragon not looking at her at all. Hints of red veins sat in her purple skin, a sight that warmed Syndra’s heart. She set the wine bottle down and took hold of Shyvana’s cup, letting it hover in her palm as she presented it.

“Will you not drink it, my dear Shyvana?”

To say the words aloud, and to see those golden eye’s turned toward her, sent goosebumps through Syndra. A tinge of excitement rose from her very core, gone as quick as it came, but warming to have. Her cheeks perked up when Shyvana’s rough fingers brushed her palm to take the cup.

“Ah, thank you,” the dragon said, quiet. “Did you … want to say anything?”

“Hmm? What do you mean?”
“In Demacia, drinks like this can be for, ah, great celebration.”

A thought crossed Syndra’s mind. “There is something, as it happens to be.”

“O-oh, what is it?”

The sovereign scooted over, all but pressing herself into Shyvana’s side as politely as one could. She peered down into those golden eyes, a fluttery nervousness within her. “I will say that,” she spoke with her ‘commanding’ tone, “I am happy beyond many words to have met you.”

Those draconic eyes widened, their slitted pupils dilating. For however long she knew Shyvana, Syndra had never seen her as expressive as this very night. Though her hard-set face remained, it softened in such beautiful, feminine ways at her words. “And,” she added, nervously biting her own bottom lip for a moment, “I can think of no one I would rather want.”

Her inkling suspicion proved true as the languishing veins in Shyvana’s face all but exploded in magmatic veins. But, the dragon herself put up a cocksure smile in spite of it. “Tell me more.”

“Now there is a lofty request,” Syndra said haughtily, turning her nose up. “Perhaps I may …”

She sipped at the wine, already anticipating the sharp taste and scent. It rolled through her mouth in a wave, heightening her senses in a face-scrunching rush, but in the wake remained a fruity aftertaste. Shivering, she waved her hand, letting the cup float back to the tray.

Shyvana, meanwhile, coughed beside her. “Holy shit.”

The sheer surprise in the dragon’s voice made Syndra laugh.

“The hell is this stuff?”

“A ceremonial drink. It cleanses the body, or so the saying goes.”

“People get drunk on it?”

“I would be surprised if that happened even after ten bottles.”

Shyvana’s eyes squinted confusedly. “Why on earth drink it then?”

“For fun.” Syndra winked at the mock offended look shot her way. “Oh, it is very rare, and hard to procure, certainly something not to be shared casually.”

“Uh huh.” Shyvana set her cup down.

“I am serious.”

“Oh yeah?”

A hand wrapped around her hips, and Syndra suddenly found herself nose-to-nose with Shyvana’s face. She had barely blinked before those captivating eyes filled her vision, accompanied by warmly radiating heat.

“Funny,” Shyvana whispered, her hot breath wafting over Syndra’s lips. “I’m serious too.”

In one moment, she laughed so freely, and in the next, Syndra’s heart hammered in her chest, the thumping almost audible. Frozen to the very spot, her mind tried to piece together what to do, every idea she came close to vanishing with every inch Shyvana closed in by. Hardy, yet soft, skin pressed into her lips, the very first kiss of another sealing her mouth. Her fingers twitched, and her skin prickled from the pleasurable sensation, a wholesome goodness she’d never expected in her life.

Shyvana pulled back just enough their lips parted. The pull, and sheer shock of separation, jolted Syndra, her lips humming with delight. A tiny, airy gasp escaped, and her clenched hands eased from her dress, something she hadn’t known she done at all. The dragon sat close, smiling with crimson flecks in her eyes.

“Enjoy that?” she asked with a throaty purr—another new sound to Syndra.

“More,” the sovereign whispered, command and desire alike mixing together. “I want more.”

Any doubt or trepidation within her fled by each word, and as Syndra grasped hold of a surprised Shyvana’s shoulders. Her boldness pressed the dragon to action, and it became her turn to be surprised when Shyvana lunged forward. She fell back onto the wooden deck, the weight of the fiery dragon woman pinning her.

“Gods,” Shyvana all but growled out. “I can’t hold myself back if you speak like that.”

“Then do not.”

“I don’t know how to be soft,” she mumbled, biting her thin lips. “It’ll be scary if I’m me with you.”

“Understand this,” Syndra returned, eyes narrowed pointedly. “I am a woman of great desires, and greater power still.”

Shyvana blinked, a little taken aback.

“If you wish to learn what softness is, I will teach you with my body.” Syndra smirked, her face beat red and hot. “But you must teach me what you are with yours, woman and dragon.”

Sheer excitement raced through her when Shyvana laid on top of her, their chests beating together. Her lips opened in anticipation as the dragon leaned in, but it was not for a kiss. Surprise intermingled with a ticklish pleasure from the hot mouth affixing to her ear.

“That I can do.”

Two strong arms laid on either side of her head. In its own way, Syndra found herself boxed in. Shyvana grinned from over her, shifting her weight. What felt like legs came from the sides of her hips, squeezing her tight. The whole of her being was caught in Shyvana’s clutches, and to her surprise, it excited her. Not unlike some martial arts and their close contact—intimate and playful.

“You have pretty eyes,” Shyvana mumbled, their noses brushing against each other. A tiny, surprised hum escaped Syndra that made the dragon chuckle. “They’re colorful.”

“Truly?” Syndra returned shyly. “Yours are such a soft shade of gold.”

“Heh, yeah. I like how yours change, though.”

“… Change?”

“When you’re angry or happy, they get darker or lighter. They’re almost pink right now—yeah, now they’re pink.”

Never in her whole life did she expect her eyes to be so betraying of her as in this moment. Syndra always knew they did change somewhat, but almost entirely to the degree of magic she used. “W-well, is that not interesting?”

Shyvana chuckled, her hot breath spilling over Syndra’s lips. “How much lighter can I make them, hm?”

Anticipation followed delight at those words. For, while kissing was one thing, Shyvana’s strong words added another, a kind of flavor that made her want to make herself just a little more available. The sovereign stretched underneath Shyvana’s hold, her lips tingly with anticipation as those last few inches were crossed. Their kiss slowed enough she could fully enjoy the firm press of Shyvana’s lips. She loved the friction between them and the more Shyvana’s mouth moved against hers, the more she tried to move back. There was no grand plan, only the desire to feel those scaly thin lips against her soft ones, and the electric tingles that shot down from her mouth.

A lull arose within her, one content to the gentle sway, press and pull Shyvana treated her with. It came so close, but suckling to her lips—a new kind of pleasure—rocked her from it. Shyvana pulled away, their mouths fastened together only to pop, and the shock of her mouth snapping back made her eyes open. The dragon purred a laugh in a humming ‘hmph’.

“Open wide,” Shyvana whispered and she sank down once more.

Syndra, half-way to speaking, found herself cut off by something warm and wet prodding her lips. Her eyes bugged a little at the alien sensation, ticklish, foreign, and strangely inviting. H-her tongue? She wondered, squirming under Shyvana’s weight. The tip of the thing curled along her lips, tracing their plumpness. Confused, but delighted, she sat there, trying to absorb this new feeling.

To her disappointment, Shyvana pulled away again.

“You need to open your mouth,” the dragon said, almost like an instructor were not for her teasing tone.

“That—to put your tongue in my mouth?”

Shyvana chuckled, her whole body rocking. “Yes. It feels good, trust me.”

Opening her mouth, Syndra made a small ‘ahh’ sound.

“N-not like that.” The dragon’s cheeks puffed up, an earnest laughter hiding in her eyes. Syndra withdrew a little, frowning. “Here, you’ll know.”

Out of everything she imagined to follow such sweet, friction-filled kissing, wetness wasn’t one of them. Shyvana kissed her lightly, but the long side of her tongue pressed firmly against her lips now, probing with its pointed tip intently. Syndra fought the urge to shut her mouth tightly against it. The wet slipperiness pried and prodded, strangely enticing to feel and she slowly opened up. It slid between her lips, a warm mass whose tasteless texture made her toes curl.

Syndra squirmed as conflicting emotions struck one after another. The ticklish licking made her want to giggle; the tasteless spittle, despite its slimy texture, was somehow delicious; the pressure of Shyvana’s mouth upon hers, the weight pinning her to the floor, and that tongue coiling all over hers. A sound wormed up from her throat, and Syndra dimly recognized her own moaning.

The moment Shyvana broke the kiss, Syndra gasped for a breath she didn’t realize she needed. All of her mouth buzzed with prickly pleasure and shutting her lips proved difficult with how sensitively they pressed against each other. “Ah, haha, oh?”

The dragon smirked down, her golden eyes curled in a gloating triumph. “You taste good.”

Were it not enough she was still putting together what just happened, Syndra’s blush darkened at the sexy purr above her. “N-now I understand …”

“Hm? What?”

“Why there is so much kissing in the stories.”

Shyvana chuckled heartily, a single finger of hers running along the hem of her loose dress top. “There’s a lot more than just that.”

“… What could there possibly be?”

“Is that an invitation?”

Syndra, despite being on the ground, stuck her nose up, giving Shyvana a haughty look. “You may.”

“Hah! Smeared lipstick and you’ll still talk? Alright.” Shyvana lifted herself up from Syndra, all but dragging the sovereign up with her. “Let’s go then, unless you find the floor comfortable?”

“Show me inside.”

In this, Syndra found her hand firmly gripped, and a tug at her arm that beckoned for her to enter her own bedroom. She marveled at the sensation, while utterly simple, was powerful. No one dared to touch or move her in such a way, demanding of her and her body and inviting her at the same time. Every action Shyvana took oozed of practice and experience, something she found herself all too intrigued by.

The shoji shut behind Syndra, barely a thought to it before Shyvana turned around. Though small lanterns lit the room, shadows still covered much of it, and the dragon’s shining gaze became all the more pronounced. She grinned in that predatory way of hers, the glint in her eyes making Syndra’s knees feel weak. A hand slid up her arm, securing to her shoulder, while the other went to the sash at her hips.

“Now, I could tear this off of you, if you want,” Shyvana remarked, smiling with a toothy flash.

“It is quite expensive,” Syndra noted, her own hand flying after Shyvana’s. She gripped those rough fingers to stop her on reflex, but a moment’s thought gave her another idea. “But, this night is special, I will allow it.”

The dragon paused and looked up at her, disbelieving. As quick as it came, it vanished, and she wrapped her arms around Syndra’s waist.

It all happened faster than she realized. The pull of the earth sank in her belly as Shyvana lifted her up. Syndra barely had time to blink before finding herself laid on her own bed, the abundant sheets and pillows cushioning her, yet the landing still shocked her. Weight fell upon her quickly, pinning her legs while strong hands groped at her arms and chest.

“Gods, you are so fucking beautiful.”

The growl rumbled in Syndra’s ear even with Shyvana sitting over her. Hard hands groped at her breasts, squeezing them through her dress. A soft gasp escaped her when they found her nipples, pressure and heat alike stirring her to push further into those powerful fingers.

“And strong, too. You know what that does to me? Seeing such a woman challenge me?”

Her heart beat excitedly from fingers crawling across her chest. They slipped into the folds of the dress, finding perch to grip, then pulled. The loosened sash fell away and Syndra found her whole front side dress opening, a faint snap of threads breaking. Cool air, marred by heat from Shyvana’s flush body, rushed across her naked skin and large, bosomy breasts. Syndra’s face flushed at the abrupt exposure. The urge to cover herself rose up strongly, but she resisted it, stiffly holding herself in place. This was what she was after, and Shyvana’s pleased look made so wondrously wet.

She could get used having the dragon look at her like that.

Hands crawled up her chest when Shyvana leaned in, their faces close together. The whole of those rough, scaly-skinned palms squeezed, strong fingers claiming her soft skin. She jolted, caught off guard by the sensation of being grabbed so pleasurably. “Ah,” the sovereign exhaled, her eyes wide.

“Heh, like that?” Shyvana smiled lecherously.

“Quite,” Syndra shot back, her smirk unsteady. It disappeared when Shyvana kissed her and squeezed again. She melted just a bit under the rush, blinking her eyes and clenching her knees together.

“Oh no,” Shyvana said darkly, hovering inches away from her lips again. “Tell me what you want, or I’ll take what I want.”

Nibbling on her lip for a moment, Syndra’s eyes shyly looked away. “Ah, hmph. Well. My breasts.”

“Louder.”

“Eh?” Syndra stared at Shyvana’s head tilting, her gaze falling to that long tongue stretching out. Its warm wetness firmly planted on her lips and gave her a long, licking taste. Her mouth parted to let it in on reflex, but she remained agape and feeling played.

“Say it louder.”

“Say what?”

“What you want.”

The embarrassment might’ve killed her if she did. Still, that demanding look rankled her nerves, and Syndra wouldn’t abide that. Shifting upon her bedding, she made herself more available, squeezing her shoulders to prop up her chest. “Touch my breasts, dragon.”

“Close enough.”

Shyvana kissed her again, their lips hard pressed together for a second. Every time she did that, the rush left Syndra a little dizzy, her mouth buzzing for more. The hands upon her chest jolted her from that haze, and all too acutely she felt them flex and position. From the very underside to dangerously close to her nipples, Shyvana took great handfuls of her. She squeezed in a curious rhythm, almost massaging her with those strong hands. Syndra sucked in a breath, finding feeling oddly trapped, but not. Another inviting their self to her was so queer, but she liked how Shyvana did it.

“Hnn, yes,” Syndra squeaked out, curling and uncurling her fingers.

“They’re so big,” Shyvana marveled aloud, an appreciation in her eyes that made Syndra’s belly flutter.

“You like them, then?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe!”

Syndra jumped when Shyvana’s face fell into her chest, a sudden, very new scaly-skin sensation coming. The dragon squeezed her closer, her breasts firm against Shyvana’s face as she rubbed up and down. “Ah, wh-what are you doing?”

“They’re so fucking good,” Shyvana growled into her.

Hot, slippery warmth slid over her chest, and in an instant Syndra knew what was happening. Her eyes bugged a little as Shyvana’s open mouthed, sucking kiss pulled at her. A hint of teeth followed, gently scraping after those thin lips. Syndra grabbed at the dragon’s clothed shoulders, drawing a curious gold eye. “W-why are you kissing them?”

Shyvana grinned openly, the tip of her tongue sliding across her lips.

Syndra’s skin prickled when the dragon’s head slid over to the top of her breast, that warm breath billowing over her, and Shyvana’s thin lips descending. They wrapped around her puffy nipple, squeezing with that soft-but-firm pleasure only lips could bring. A pure, electric jolt shot through her, and Syndra’s tiny moan escaped on its own, the sovereign pushing herself into Shyvana’s mouth.

“Do it more,” she demanded, grabbing Shyvana’s head. A chuckle answered in kind, and those lips moved, suckling and massaging all in one spine-tingly motion. The hand upon her other breast started again, massaging in tune with that devious mouth. Syndra bit at her lip, breathing heavier by the minute. It was all so close to what she did herself, yet Shyvana doing it somehow changed everything.

Laying so contentedly beneath the dragon, Syndra’s soft moans came in earnest. Huffing with every breath, she squirmed and gripped at Shyvana, uncertain on what to do, yet so delighted in doing nothing. The dragon switched from one breast to the other, and the suddenness of starting again drew a surprised cry from her. A finger and a thumb wrapped around her wet nipple, their hardiness sharp to the warmly wet lips from before. Syndra’s thighs rubbed together, barely any relief to the heated desire in her loins.

Shyvana’s hands ceased their massage, holding her firm, and the dragon’s lips popped free. A shuddering breath escaped, a look of satisfaction from a fine meal to her. “Your tits are the best.”

“T-thank you?” Syndra returned uncertainly, earning a hearty chuckle.

“Sure, let’s go with that.”

“What else am I supposed to say?”

“Couple things,” Shyvana said, sitting upright. Her hands loosened on Syndra, letting her overly sensitive breasts have a break. “How much you like it, what you’d want next, how you’re feeling …”

“Fine. I want to touch you.”

The dragon blinked owlishly, her head tilting to the side. A smirk soon overcame her. “So, touch me.”

Syndra’s hands hung in the air, her gaze drinking in Shyvana’s still dressed self. The pants would be simple to remove, but the dress would have to go first. This she knew, but doing it seemed a bizarre thought, but she wanted to see—more than anything else right then, she wanted to see Shyvana. The sovereign’s fingers flew along the sash, unwinding it. “Closer,” she demanded, tugging at the edge of Shyvana’s dress. When the dragon scooted up on her more, she wound her hands through the fabric’s folds, spreading it open with a far more delicate touch. Just to what could be expected, there weren’t any knots or secondary ties, and the whole thing fell open in a gentle wave.

Purple glowing eyes stared, widening the more the dress fell away. Syndra froze on the spot, drinking in the purple-skinned nakedness and the tiny slivers of magma running through it. Shyvana shrugged her shoulders, casting all of the dress to the bed, leaving her intensely toned, yet feminine self on display. Bold, scarred in some places with faint cuts or chipped scales. Every inch thrummed with power, the woven tapestry of a woman and a dragon in this half-blooded Shyvana.

“Well?” Shyvana said, the magma in her body flaring a tiny bit. “Say something.”

Syndra looked up to her lover’s eyes and smiled. She’s nervous too?

It helped knowing that. She set a hand to Shyvana’s demure chest. Unlike her, the dragon comfortably fit inside her hand, but those dark nipples stood out at their crowns. They almost seemed onyx to her, for what she remembered of that glimmering gem and its black-purple sheen.

“In Ionia,” she started, slowly gliding her finger tips across Shyvana’s hard, rough-skinned chest. “It is believed an artist can only imitate, never surpass, the most beautiful things.”

There was, and wasn’t, a rhyme and reason to Shyvana’s scales. They followed her muscles, conforming to fit, but in some places turned against that, twisting into a different shape, or hardening where it had to be inconvenient. It delighted her to exploring every little inch she could.

“In seeing this, I do not need words. There is no story or painting that would come close to imitating such beauty.”

Was it a trick of the light, or did Shyvana become truly flustered at her words? Syndra rose up, testing, and finding a lax dragon sitting atop her, staring wide-eyed. She smiled and twisted, turning them over such Shyvana now lay on the bed beneath her. Brushing her own white hair out of the way, Syndra leaned down until the tips of their noses touched. “I am truly blessed by the heavens to have seen you,” she whispered, closing the gap.

A kiss that was hers to give, and hers to taste. Syndra indulged in it slowly, massaging Shyvana in suckling and soft motions. A tinge of delight inched through her at how Shyvana responded, dancing with at her pace. A rough-skinned hand snaked onto her naked back, lighting her nerves with its possessive touch. With a pull, it brought the two of them together chest-to-chest, and an earnest gasp from her parted their lips.

Shyvana’s hardy chest met hers, their breasts pressing together. Her overly sensitive skin prickled against that rough, scaly texture, and Syndra moved a tiny bit, not even fully aware of the motion. Not a caress, nor a grope or handful, something different in its intimacy. She couldn’t put a word to it, but she wanted it fiercely, and clung closer to Shyvana. The beat of her draconic heart pounded faintly near hers.

“It’s not fair when you say things like that,” the dragon said lowly, her hand inching lower. “It makes me sound dirty when I talk.”

“You are not.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because I said so.”

Shyvana laughed, her head falling back into the pillows. “Really? Because I ain’t got a fancy way of saying I’ll fuck you until you can’t walk.”

Syndra’s face flushed, not only from the words, but the fingers slipping through what was left of her dress. They crawled past her lower back, and with no clothing in the way, firmly planted themselves onto her bubbly butt. The sovereign jolted when they squeezed her, every inch of each finger far clearer than before. Tight, deep, and so good to feel grabbing her.

“T-that is fine,” she squeaked out, giving in to the urge to press back. The more she did so, the harder Shyvana massaged her, and the more her loins quivered with such pleasurable promise. “I want you to.”

“Mm, yeah, say that again.”

Her brow tweaking, the sovereign smirked and leaned into Shyvana’s ear. “I want you,” she whispered, punctuating each word. “Shyvana.”

A great inhale followed, and the dragon rumbled. “That dress needs to go.”

Syndra barely had time to hear it before Shyvana started shimming her out of her dress. Through their awkward tangle of limbs, she managed to slip the arms off, and Shyvana all but ripped the rest away. Outer layers, inner, under; it didn’t matter, the dragon stripped her naked in record time. Scaly strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her hard into Shyvana’s hold. Airy, draconic giggling filled the bedoom with its slight hiss, Shyvana’s shaking chest vibrating right into hers.

“Your skin is so nice,” Shyvana said, her rough fingers probing along Syndra’s backside, groping and grabbing with lavish freedom. “Fuck, how do you even do it?”

It felt utterly silly to her how she tried meeting those hands, but Syndra tried all the same. In some places they grabbed possessively, holding her with a sweet, almost achy tightness. In others they stroked by, fingertips and thick nails leaving an electric trail on her skin. “Mmph, exercise, bathing …” Syndra mumbled, pressing her face into Shyvana’s neck and raising her butt as those fingers squeezed her. “Ah, oh! And a very skilled dragon.”

“’Very skilled’ hm? Lift up some more.” Though, for being told to ‘lift’, Shyvana’s hands pulled Syndra up by her butt just as much. The sovereign found herself in an awkward kneel, her face down in Shyvana’s neck, bottom up.

“It is rather hard doing this.”

“Yeaaah, I noticed. Sit up and lean over me.”

With a bit of shuffling, Syndra straddled Shyvana’s belly and rest her arms on top of the dragon’s head. Her bosomy chest settled on Shyvana’s face, much to her audible satisfaction. “Like this?”

“Perfect,” Shyvana mumbled, rubbing her face in between Syndra’s breasts. She took a moment to grasp and squeeze them against her, licking up the sheen of sweat off of them. Her tongue swept over, under, and around, coiling each one once, drawing a moaning shudder from the excited sovereign.

“Your tongue is quite w-WARM!” Syndra squeaked out, nearly jumping from the hand passing down her belly. Shyvana’s fingers crawled along, combing through the tiny tuft of white hair crowning her mound. She stopped, almost to appreciate it, raking those fingers back and forth through the neatly trimmed hair. Her legs tried closing of their own accord, only to squeeze tightly against Shyvana’s hips.

Oh. Oh my. The touching, the kissing, and the groping … it all felt delightfully sensual with Shyvana’s boldness. But, those fingers so close to her womanhood brought everything keenly into focus. The sensitivity of her own skin, the pulsing heat between her nether lips, and how very, very wet she was. Syndra squirmed and clung harder to Shyvana the lower those fingers dared to go. The tenseness stirred tiny trembles, the anticipation gripping her.

“Oh Heavens,” she muttered. “Shyvana—“ A yelp escaped at the sudden swat to her bottom: light, sharp, and a little stinging. She jolted on the spot, her head shooting straight up. “W-what was that for?!”

Shyvana chuckled. “Relax. You’re too tense.”

“You hit my butt!”

“Got your attention, didn’t it?”

Syndra jolted, another smack to her other, previously un-smacked butt cheek. It was so sharp across her nerves, but she couldn’t tell if she hated it or not. Did she like it for Shyvana’s hand, or that pleasurable buzz it left behind? On the other matter, the slight pain wasn’t at all to her taste … but then it became good? She frowned.

“Relax!” Shyvana said, rubbing Syndra’s butt. “You won’t enjoy it if you’re so tense!”

The sovereign grumbled in her throat. “Easy to say.”

It did help talking, though. She shivered and squirmed when Shyvana’s hand started moving again, all but shoving her face into the dragon’s crimson mane. Despite the sweat and smoky scent, the only thing on her mind was those fingers sliding over her mound. Stiff, rough, and not her own. Familiar, but they moved in ‘different’, unexpected ways.

She shuddered with pleasure, her knees and thighs tightening. Shyvana cupped her whole mound with a firm snugness.

“Fuck me, you’re so wet,” Shyvana muttered appreciatively.

Her face burning with a scarlet blush, Syndra sucked on her lip. She wanted to tell her off as much as moan and it all felt so embarrassing. A stroke of that hand, deeper between her legs, pulled a throaty, half-formed moan out of her. Sucking in breath after breath, she couldn’t stop if she wanted to. Her hips followed that hand in tiny, eager little humps. Shyvana chuckled at her again, but she didn’t care. Those rough fingers were the very heavens she sought to climb to all her life.

As her hips pumped back and forth, Shyvana kept stroking. She’d reach firm into her, not enough to truly sink between her pussy lips, but press with wonderful firmness. It’d always start at the bottom, then slid up slowly along her inner folds, right until she was about to reach her crown. Her hooded clitoris throbbed in anticipation, but the touch never quite came. Shyvana’s fingers split apart, going around and just pressing teasingly.

“Touch me,” Syndra breathed out, absentmindedly rubbing her face against Shyvana’s head. “Touch me higher.”

Those fingers closed in now, cupped together, and they slid over her clitoris. She loved touching it herself, and Shyvana’s unique hands thundered through her nerves with their own way of doing it. Syndra seized for the singular second they slid past, her mouth agape as tremulous sparks shot through her.

It ended as fast as it came, and she breathed again, her hips shaking. “I-incredible.”

“Yeah, you are.”

Syndra barely had a moment to think on it before the world went sideways. With Shyvana’s help, she ended up rolling onto her back near the edge of the floor bedding. She blinked, a void between her legs where that hand needed to be this instant. The sovereign’s accusing glare fell short when Shyvana laid upon her side, wrapping their bodies snug together.

“Spread your legs,” Shyvana breathed, a need in her tone. Her slitted eyes were almost thin cuts, keenly focused on Syndra.

A part of her prickled at the order, but another wanted to. The sovereign nibbled upon her lower lip and slowly pulled her knees open. That wonderful hand slid between her thighs, its palm almost ticklish as it passed along her folds. She shuddered when it cupped her firmly in that new, but so desirable way. Shyvana’s fingers pressed in a little firmer, threatening to part her delicate folds, and her knees went weak at the teasing.

Her eyes shot over to Shyvana’s, watching when the dragon pressed even closer. Molded to her side, Shyvana smiled—though were it a grin or a show of teeth, she couldn’t tell. Their faces came close together and warm, breath spilled over her lips just before the kiss landed. Firm, yet pliant lips sealed hers, but different; a claim laid with leisure certainty. Her toes curled at the half-formed idea, pleasure deeper within stirring.

The fingers between her legs stirred, and for a moment, their lips broke as she gasped. Shyvana’s hands rotated upon her pussy in slow, deliberate massaging. Her hips rotated to match, for however little she needed to move, seeking more of that wonderfully rough skin and those fingers. Outside, inside, deeper within, they worked every inch of her, pointed and powerful in each motion.

“Keep—mphff—doing that,” Syndra eeked out between kisses, clutching to Shyvana. In the course of moving, she found an angle with her hips, a perfect spot for Shyvana’s stroking hand. How or why disappeared beneath every swipe, her hips shaking in tune with it. She broke their kiss, stuffing her face into the dragon’s shoulder, sucking in air between her fervent humping. “Oh He-eavens, oh!”

“You’re so beautiful,” Shyvana purred into her ear. “My beautiful woman.”

Syndra’s hips sped up on their own, the roiling bliss within her womanhood erupting forth. All the heat of their intimacy, the pleasure seeping through her, her sensitive skin throbbing from every place Shyvana had touched; it all came crashing through in a catalyzing, orgasmic clarity. Womanly cries escaped from Syndra, her hips bucking hard, her grasp on Shyvana as hard as it could be. For a few, mind-blanking moments, every thrust of her hips got those fingers rubbing on her pulsing folds and needy clitoris.

A warm, rough, strong body next to hers. That hand between her legs, cupping her with animated fingers. Sweat, so much sweat, her own body achy, her hips wanting rest, nipples rubbing against scaly skin, yet still, Syndra swam on her release, clinging to every long second for much as she could.

The world returned more by virtue of discomfort than anything. She couldn’t ignore her awkwardly clingy posture anymore. Syndra rolled off the strange half-angle she had on Shyvana, her back fully on the bed once more, her hips suddenly and quite pleased. Breathing in long, lungful breaths, she trembled, wet between her legs, and keenly aware of the fingers still there, stroking up and down, albeit softly.

She mewled a moan of sorts between delight and exasperation, too tired to move anymore. Three of those fingers ceased, only to turn inward, dipping into her slick pussy folds with ease. Syndra gasped, her half-closed eyes popping open to find Shyvana’s lecherous leer staring down at her.

The fingers stroked up to the roof of her pussy, flush to her engorged clitoris. An earnest cry escaped Syndra, the sheer jolt of hypersensitive pleasure jostling her whole body. Tinges of muscular pain laced through it, droplets that wanted rest, but she wanted more.

“Spill yourself, woman,” Shyvana breathed out with a growl. “Spill all over my fingers.”

Did she want to refuse? Syndra couldn’t decide, nor did she truly care. She lifted, even just a little, for an inviting angle to Shyvana’s hand. The strokes came faster, pointed to her clitoris, and her body trembled under the dragon’s domineering dexterity. Syndra’s legs peeled open on their own accord, seeking a better angle, giving more of herself to Shyvana.

Her eyes squeezed shut, she never saw those hot lips approach. They sealed to her neck, clamping down with a determined suckle, Shyvana’s long tongue licking her throat with gleeful abandon. The strokes in her pussy intensified, and that sudden eruption returned with its ecstatic pleasure. Her cry came in a short, almost timid way, the purity of the electric sensation making it all but impossible for her to even twitch.

A droopy, easy smile overcame Syndra, her pussy throbbing and squirting with its wet release. Her leg twitched at an odd tempo, not that she cared. Those wonderful fingers swept across her as an inkbrush did parchment, every stroke bliss on her soul.

Minutes later, she opened her eyes, dazed for a moment. I … fell asleep? she wondered, her body singing with its own joy, however diluted. Shyvana was sitting up next to her, staring with sparkling golden eyes punctuated by shards of crimson. Tousled red hair, a magma-veined blush to her face, the halo of candlelight in her bedroom about her.

Syndra’s heart throbbed in tune with her pussy for a very different reason.

“W-what?” she said, her voice quiet, the words difficult to make. A scaled hand—dry, unlike the other—came to her face, brushing the hair out of the way. Syndra blinked, her face tingly as those fingertips grazed it.

“Can I not look?” Shyvana asked, teasing, but with an edge to her tone.

All sorts of answers came to mind for her, but Syndra merely stuck her nose up in whatever messy haired, dignified pose she had. “I shall allow it.”

“How gracious.”

They laughed, but the very motion made Syndra gasp from the fresh, post-orgasm ache her hips protested with. She reached down, gently cupping herself and wincing at the piercingly delightful, yet sore, pleasure she found. “Oh, oh.”

“You want more so soon?” Shyvana brow raised with her skeptical tone.

“No, I … it is silly.”

Shyvana smirked. “Try me.”

She’d barely thought of why herself and already Syndra knew she’d never stop blushing if she said it. Those sparkling gold eyes were impossible to deny. She turned her head, but she kept Shyvana’s face in view all the same. “I wish to savor it … my first,” she said, then added amusedly, “and second.”

Shyvana stared at her, a little taken aback. Yet, she also saw a look, one that made her skin excited and her achy nipples threaten to engorge with arousal. The dragon looked from her to her womanhood, and with a timidness she hadn’t expected, reached between her legs. The hand that so vigorously claimed her laid on top of her own, slick with juices still. She might’ve thought it gross, but it felt nice to her oddly enough.

“May I?” Shyvana asked.

It wasn’t like the dragon to speak so nervously. Syndra’s brow tweaked, but she smiled. Reaching up with her free hand, she pulled Shyvana down on top of her slowly. “I am your woman now, am I not?” she said with a musing tone. “A woman should please her … woman. I think that is how the saying goes. Dragon-woman?”

Shyvana snorted a laugh under her breath, nuzzling into Syndra’s shoulder. “I didn’t think you so eager to please someone else.”

The sovereign, after a moment’s thought, turned her head and stared pointedly at Shyvana. The dragon froze at the look, her eyes widening with alarm.

“No, wait—“

“I am whatever I want to be,” Syndra remarked coolly.

“I didn’t mean—“

“And,” Syndra interjected, her lipstick smeared lips peeling into a smirk. “Tonight is a woman with a rather amorous dragon. Perhaps I might also be the woman who wants to please said dragon?”

Shyvana stared at her, the faint panic in her eyes frozen with incredulity. Conflicted emotions passed through, some sort of troubled thoughts Syndra couldn’t discern. Extending a single finger, the sovereign laid it on Shyvana’s nose, making her go cross-eyed. “What is it you said? ‘Say what you want loudly’?” Shyvana’s snort blew her finger away.

“Think you can do it then, hm?” The dragon smirked. “Care to try that tongue between the legs of the beast?”

Before she even fully understood the proposition, an eagerness to prove herself overcame Syndra. Yet, the more she thought on it, the further her brow creased. Her eyes flicked down toward Shyvana’s loins, shut as they were. “… Down there?”

Sliding off of Syndra and onto her back, Shyvana sputtered out, “Y-yes, down there.”

“But … why?”

A strangled snort choked out of Shyvana just before her uproarious cackle broke free. “N-no, wait, I sh-shouldn’t laugh!” she spit out, smacking herself at the same time.

Syndra, laid upon her back, felt a smile coming at the ludicrous display. Pushing herself up, the sudden change starkly reminded her what happened between her legs with a strong, skin-crawling shudder. She cast one eye on Shyvana’s poor efforts to collect herself. “What is so funny about that?” she asked, finger combing her messy white hair back into something tamer.

“It’s just the way you said it,” Shyvana gasped out, pulling herself upright.

While the dragon rubbed her own face, Syndra paused her finger combing. Sat in her bed with such disheveled hair, glowing with her blush, and the candlelight upon that purple skin, Shyvana left her staring. The word ‘beautiful’ passed through her mind, but it didn’t suit. Small, almost, to this captivating pull that gripped her. She stared as long as she could between blinks, soaking every little detail, especially when those gold eyes turned toward her.

Yet, they were downcast.

“I, ah, wasn’t laughing at you.”

“Shush,” Syndra commanded, reaching out and picking Shyvana up by the chin. “I enjoy your laughter.”

The confusion that followed somehow made the dragon a touch cute. Sexy and cute, if Syndra dared to put the two together. That loose crimson hair and its messiness gave a disarming quality to Shyvana’s fierce face. She brought her hand up and cupped her soft yet rough cheek, the whole of it filling her palm and earning her a look. This is … nice.

“Well?” she said lowly, staring into Shyvana’s wide, dilated eyes. “Will you not tell me why?”

A teasing look overcame Shyvana and her smile. “It’s a secret between women that does require practice.”

Shyvana squeezed her arm and pulled away. She fell over onto the bed, taking up a comfortable seating on her back, her arms and legs splayed open with an inviting air. Syndra’s eyes roamed across her freely, lingering on those firm, shapely abs. Her fingers twitched and she reached out to lay them upon Shyvana. She probed gingerly, feeling out each little solid dip in that scale-hewn skin. It twitched underneath her, moving with every breath Shyvana took.

“Hm? Did you want to practice or touch my belly?”

Syndra paused and she tilted her head. “Can it not be both?”

“It can, but, I want you a bit lower than that.”

Tiny little goosebumps flitted over Syndra’s skin at the wanton tone. Her eyes crawled lower, to the dip between Shyvana’s shut thighs. With those pants she wore all night, she hadn’t a glimpse until now. So much she wanted to see, yet so little she could. A frown crossed her face, and Syndra shuffled across the bedding. Shyvana pulled her knees in, shut tight, just as she sat in front of her.

“… What do I …?” Syndra waved her hand to complete her words.

“Heh. Give me your hands.”

She did so, those wondrously scaled hands clasping hers. Syndra barely had time to enjoy it before she found herself packed in between Shyvana’s knees.

"Now,” Shyvana purred, her tongue swiping across her lips. “Open them.”

Syndra’s eyes shot up and down, a formless thrill making her throat tight. She shuffled a little closer, and with a touch of trepidation, started prying her hands apart. There was a slight resistance—the tightness of Shyvana’s muscular thighs—but a quick look at the dragon’s playful smirk told her all she needed. Squinting, she pried a little harder, parting those purplish legs with a touch of determination.

The victorious feeling when Shyvana yielded flew from her mind completely when she really took in what lay in front of her. Splayed across her bed, Shyvana stared up, legs open, her own glistening womanhood bared at last. The whole of her muscular body seemed to gravitate around that darker, flushed skin, and the hint of a shimmer in its wetness.

She swallowed her dry mouth. Such a precious place was open to her and Syndra couldn’t find a word to describe it—this sudden smallness of her person, and how much Shyvana enticed her. “Amazing,” she muttered, the closest thought she managed.

“Heheh, now there’s a first,” Shyvana said, amusement in her throaty words. She reached between her legs with a hand, planting one finger either of her dark folds, and spread herself open. “Come closer.”

It took her a minute to figure out a good position. Bending over didn’t work, nor did leaning forward from her knees. Syndra ultimately laid on her front, propping herself up on her elbows, Shyvana’s heavenly legs towering around her head. Her eyes fixated on those wet netherlips, clearer to see now. They were the softest part of Shyvana she’d ever seen, even more than those cute breasts. Tiny, pebble-like skin formed the outer lips, leaving the darker-violet inner ones hidden were it not for Shyvana’s fingers.

Syndra breathed in, the musky thick scent of something Shyvana filling her nose. A shiver slithered down her back at the freshness, her mouth tingly with the desire to taste. She hadn’t the faintest clue why, but it felt right somehow.

“Now,” Shyvana said from over her, “it’s … kind of like kissing, but it’s only your tongue. See my lips?”

“Yes,” Syndra breathed back, watching those two purple fingers stroke up and down. Shyvana’s folds molded around them, moving with a lewd grace that almost looked out of place on a woman with such a hardy body.

“It’s all you kissing them. Love them with your mouth, mmm, everywhere you see.” Shyvana’s hips trembled with a tiny motion, her wetness becoming damper. Her fingers trailed upward, to the crown of her womanhood, where a bumpy nub jutted out. “Especially here,” she stuttered out the last word, her legs clenching as a finger rubbed a circle around her clitoris.

Syndra stared, wide eyed, her thighs squeezed shut together. Fingers, pillows, even some of her own magic she knew well herself. But, a mouth? Soft lips and a firm tongue?

She wanted to feel that. She wanted Shyvana to do it to her, too.

“An-and, don’t forget to go, mmm, inside.” Shyvana’s heavy breathing was almost as loud as Syndra’s heart in her ears. That slickened hand of hers sank inward, three whole fingers disappearing between her folds. They pumped once, twice, three times—deepest to the knuckle, then they withdrew, leaving her open folds and slippery strands to Syndra’s eyes. “Got it?”

“I do,” Syndra returned, only half her listening. That is a woman’s honey? she thought, staring at the seemingly clear, wet stickiness. Shyvana laid back properly upon the bedding, her face disappearing from sight. A confident, sexual aura permeated the air, and simply being near her excited Syndra.

“Hm? Well? Start.”

“Oh!”

She had to get closer, didn’t she? Put her face right onto that … that. Syndra leaned forward on her elbows, edging closer. The scent in the air thickened the closer she came, yet not unpleasantly. Filling, almost; this precious place Shyvana opened to her. She couldn’t see and use her mouth at once, and so, Syndra crossed the gap. Of everything she might’ve imagined, the straight forwardness of it wasn’t one. Shyvana’s skin felt much hotter to her lips, and a slick wetness very different from spittle greeted her. It was, and was not, like a mouth, but quite differently shaped.

This … does not taste like honey at all.

She extended her tongue a little more, pressing into the strange, pebbly-like smoothness of Shyvana’s labia. With the flat-side of her tongue, she licked along the outside, tasting of the heat, skin, and feminine wetness. The thighs around her head shuddered, and a pleased hum came from above.

“Yes, like that,” Shyvana said approvingly.

Syndra, tilting her head, licked the other side, taking another long, slow taste. Everything about it wasn’t terribly off-putting, she felt. Different. Intriguing. A few more licks was needed to really get an idea. She licked again, pressing her mouth a little more firmly in while she did so. Shyvana’s womanhood molded to her mouth, quivering in tiny spasms to her curious probing. The outer folds, with their draconic texture, gave way to unbelievably soft and malleable skins. Syndra couldn’t help starting from there and following all the way inside as far as she could go. She had to bob her head up and down with Shyvana’s hips, rolling back and forth as they were.

“F-fuck,” the dragon’s airy growl choked out, loud in the quiet bedroom.

Pulling away, Syndra asked, “What is wrong?”

“What? Nothing! Just, keep going! You’re a natural!”

Flurried words and followed by a hand setting on her head. She barely understood half of it, but the flagrant pleading was certainly pleasing to hear. Syndra, taking a second to size up the task at hand, set to work again. Outside, then in, then … down, and up?

Would her own personal way work so well? Fingers she knew, tongue not so much. Pressing the flat of her tongue along the outside, Syndra swiped up from the very bottom of Shyvana’s slick wetness. The more she did, the more she couldn’t help noticing just how soft the dragon really was. Nowhere she’d explored was as soft as here, and some part of her had wondered if it would be hardy instead. A tiny thrill rose her in heart with every suckling lick.

With every squirm Shyvana made, seemingly trying to escape just as much as offer herself more, Syndra ventured deeper. Her lips sealed against Shyvana’s labia, her mouth comfortably open, the hot inner wetness wrapped around her tongue. It tried to squeeze around her, pulling inward with a familiar, enticing rhythm. Shyvana all but stilled save her thighs slowly pressing in on her head. The dragon’s legs jumped in small, excitable jolts with every deep reaching delve of her tongue.

“Oh fuck, yesss,” Shyvana’s growly voice slurred with a hiss. “Jussst a little more, higher.”

The wildness she heard sent a shiver down Syndra’s back. Shifting herself, she spread her own legs open and snuck a hand between them. With one elbow for balance, she wasted no time in running her fingers across her wet netherlips. A pleasurable sting gave her pause for a second, the wonderful ache of Shyvana’s work still fresh. Just as her tongue went to the roof of Shyvana’s vagina, so too did her fingers find her own clitoris.

A sharp ‘ah!’ escaped Shyvana the moment Syndra’s tongue gently slid over her exposed clit. Those scaled thighs tightened around her head hard, holding with an almost ridiculous determination. Yet, she could hardly move her head, let alone angle her mouth anymore. Syndra’s brow creased irritably.

The will to power—a single thought, an impulse of emotion and instinct together, and her magic spurred to answer. Wisps of magic emerged from nowhere, wrapping around Shyvana’s knees with the speed of furious vipers. They pulled gently, prying open the dragon’s legs slow but certainly.

“What’re you doing?” Shyvana asked, a mixture of a whine, concern, and desire to her voice.

Syndra, who sat up and quickly finger-brushed her hair back into place, squinted her eyes. “Sit there,” she commanded and lowered herself once more. A glimpse of Shyvana’s incredulous face and, perhaps even arousal, passed by. The thought made her smirk while she got comfortable again. “I will say this is not like honey at all.”

“Well, yeah—but it tastes good, right?”

The tone gave Syndra pause. It still sounded as Shyvana as ever, yet a feeling nagged at her. “Mmm, I certainly do desire more of you …”

She hovered before Shyvana’s glistening womanhood, ready, but her eyes found something new. Criss-crossing veins, pumping with that draconic fire and glowing beneath Shyvana’s skin, stood plainly visible in the dragon’s loins. They seemed in tune with the very beat of her heart, pulsing at an erratically steady rate under every breath Shyvana took. What a beautiful light.

Could she make it brighter?

The sovereign set her lips upon Shyvana’s vagina, kissing firmly. An airy gasp followed, those scaled hands finding her head once again. They ruffled her hair enough it fell around her face, blocking everything but Shyvana’s intimate, glowing loins. That mysterious taste flooded into her mouth with a freshness that made her mouth ache for more. Extending her tongue as far as she could, Syndra greedily licked, lapping for more. Her magic strained under the sudden clench Shyvana tried, but the dragon stayed splayed open, her legs pinned to the spot.

“Just, do it like that!” Shyvana begged. “Fast!”

Spurred by such cries, Syndra obliged, running her tongue in long, simple swipes up and down. Soft, to pebbly, then to the harder, malleable clit at the crown. She paused there, setting her lips upon it and rubbing. Shyvana bucked underneath her, little more than a tremulous jump of her hips, and a hissing suck of air as she drew in breath. With every visit up, another throaty moan and writhe followed, and Syndra, enamored with such sensual reactions, kept going.

The wetness of not-honey-but-still-good splattered over her lips and into her mouth, but Syndra didn’t care. She licked it up and swallowed, scarcely taking a breath before sealing her lips to Shyvana’s quivering pussy once again. A desire to feel everything—the wet, the hot, the squirms Shyvana made, surged with her need to hear the dragon. Her hand wedged between her own thighs, fingers hastily sinking inside, pumping to the pace of her tongue.

The taste of Shyvana’s pussy and her fingers working away swirled together into an altogether, newer sensation. With every stroke she made, she wanted to lick more, and Syndra pursued each one with increasing fervor. Shyvana barked out tiny, throaty moans underneath her, grabbing harder with her hands. The dragon forced her closer and all she knew to do was to simply kiss and lick harder.

“Yes, yesss!” Shyvana purred out, her deep voice rising to a rumbling cry. “Keep going! Keep going!” Her deep-skinned glow fluctuated, a wave of fire pulsing through her veins. Syndra only saw little of what was happening, the luminous glow as inviting as a warm campfire. A tightness of presence surrounded the dragon, her errant squirming stilling. Her vagina clenched around Syndra’s tongue, desperately holding still for but a moment.

Giddiness filled Syndra at the all too familiar sensation. She raised her lips, dragging her tongue to Shyvana’s clit, and suckling to give her that one, last push. The dragon’s hips bucked, stronger than ever, and a cry escaped her, one sounding more of a beast than human. The air twisted around them in that instant, a rush of movement and a much different sound erupting out.

Syndra’s eyes shot up as a brighter light filled her bedroom. The roar of flame filled her ears as her eyes beheld the sight of Shyvana, head back, and spitting flame right into her ceiling. Rich, vibrant reds and oranges spewed out, a hint of blue woven into the torrential blaze, more captivating than any firework Syndra had ever seen. Those fanciful explosions were paltry to what Shyvana could make.

I never knew she could … wait, she’s burning my ceiling.

The sovereign blinked. It was very much a wood and paper-oriented ceiling, as almost all Ionian buildings were, save the roof shingles.

OH NO!

Rocketing upward, Syndra raised her hands, strands of tiny lightning crackling out. Where the fire met the ceiling, space-time bent in funny directions, funneling it apart into twisting vortexes. The air shimmered where her magic threatened to emerge in full, the barest event horizons of her dark spheres forming from Shyvana’s draconic flame.

In the end, she managed to stop the fire before it began in earnest. A black scorch mark stretched across her ceiling, the faint embers in the paper easy to snuff out with a touch of magic. Syndra let out a sigh of relief, absentmindedly wiping her wet mouth and shaking her hands. The rush of adrenaline didn’t sit well with her naked arousal in the slightest.

“Sssorry, sssorry,” Shyvana’s lowly mumbling caught her attention.

Looking over, the prone dragon had cast an arm over her eyes, hiding beneath it. The bright fire in her veins had dulled, but all of her body glowed with its subdued heat. “What are you sorry about?” Syndra asked, fanning her hot neck. Sweat, and her own heavy hair, left a flushed toll on her. When no immediate answer came, Syndra tapped Shyvana on the leg, startling the dragon. Two muscular legs closed around her in a pincer, but broke away just as quick for Shyvana to roll away.

What in the world?

“Shyvana,” she spoke sternly.

A scowl overcame her, and Syndra curled her fingers. Magic would do what she could not with just her hands and lift Shyvana up.

“Hey, ssstop that!” the dragon demanded as she was pulled across the bed. Her useless squirming ceased when she landed head first on Syndra’s lap, the sovereign staring down at her pointedly. “Wh-what?”

“Your hair’s a mess,” Syndra remarked airily, weaving her fingers into Shyvana’s red hair. An incredulous look answered her, but she paid it no mind as she brushed bangs and stray locks back into place.

“Thanksss? Oh—ssshit.”

Syndra followed her gaze up to the ceiling and looked back down amusedly. Shyvana stared at her with wide, almost terrified, eyes. “I suppose I will have to fireproof my bedroom.”

“You … you aren’t mad?”

“A little surprised, perhaps. It was quite the sight to watch.”

“I—um, alright.”

“Is your throat dry?”

Shyvana’s eyes squeezed shut. “I wasss hoping you wouldn’t notice.” The heavy, flanged became heavy in the aftermath. Her voice, while always ‘growly’ and deep, now had a distinct hiss accenting her words. Farther from a normal human voice, though in the realm of it still. “Jussst, give me a minute to put it down.”

“I do not dislike it,” Syndra refuted her gently, poking at Shyvana’s forehead. “What does it mean?”

“Sssomething my father left me,” Shyvana said with a dry tone. “Ssspeaking as dragonsss do. Human tongue isss quite different.”

“You speak quite well.”

“After I practiced. Ssso many uselesss idiotsss laughed at my ssstupid sssluring.”

Syndra rolled her eyes. “Their loss over something so enjoyable to hear.”

“You’re jussst being nice.”

“In fact, I should hear it the remainder of this evening. You can do that, of course.” She smiled at Shyvana’s disbelieving gaze. Bending down, Syndra crossed the gap between them in an awkward hunch, landing a sweet, full press her of lips to the dragon’s. Throaty chuckles followed her departure as Shyvana rubbed her own face.

“What a graceful virgin I have,” she said, more to herself.

Syndra neatly cleared her throat, taking a more prim and proper posture. “I hardly think that matters anymore.”

“Excussse me. Graceful, lovely woman I have.”

Try as she might to ignore the heat in her face, Syndra still ended up squirming. In lieu of passion’s wonderful haze, the full brunt of Shyvana’s words landed squarely inside her. Lover’s speak is so … so flustering.

She hated the embarrassment.

On the other hand, she found herself quite fine with Shyvana doing it. “Oh, sit up.” With a bit of a push, she got Shyvana upright. But, before the dragon could turn around, Syndra wrapped her arms around her. Shifting and kicking her legs out, she scooted up and hugged Shyvana from behind, squeezing into her

Syndra nuzzled into Shyvana’s ear, setting her lips on the firm outer ridge. “Watch,” she breathed, holding out a hand in front of both of them. Wisps of magic formulated in her palm, the air distorting as shape asserted itself. One dark sphere, then two, and finally three in total, small in stature, and unusually solid looking. Their shimmering horizons were frozen in place, turning them into overtly large marbles.

“I will tell you a secret, Shyvana,” Syndra muttered, rolling the spheres in her hands with an old, practiced grace. “Being a lonesome woman has certainly taught me some interesting techniques these can do.” She brought her hand in closer, holding the marble spheres to Shyvana’s face. “Try them.”

“Uhh …”

Reaching up with her other hand, Syndra slid her fingers across Shyvana’s throat, inching to the bottom of her jaw. She tipped the dragon’s head back onto her chest further and stared down. “For me?”

A sound of wanting to disagree came from Shyvana, her face scrunching up. Her gold eyes switched from Syndra’s face to the ceiling above, and she eased up with a sigh. “… Fine. Sssticking little balls—“ she coughed at the sharp look “—ssspheress inssside ssseemss dangerousss.”

“They are not.”

“What if they get stuck?”

“Oh—that. No, they will not.” Tipping her hand in toward Shyvana’s chest, the marble spheres rolled onto her, promptly tumbling their way down. The dragon’s legs shut tight, catching them in her lap.

“What the? Are they glassss?”

“Gemstone.”

“Ssstill feelsss like glassss.”

Syndra’s eyebrow tweaked while she and Shyvana stared at each other, her hand still on the dragon’s throat. Every time Shyvana shallowed, or spoke, or even breathed, she felt it all, a surreal and new sensation she hadn’t even imagined possible. “I will simply have to disprove that,” she muttered, distracted. Widened, gold eyes stared at her, and a curious taste of vulnerability mingled to the imposing potential of the dragon.

“Oh yeah?” Shyvana mumbled out, her lips peeling into a smile somewhere between a sneer and amusement. “And howssee that—“

Squeezing her hand ever so lightly around Shyvana’s throat, Syndra tilted her head back. Those pouty, thin-lips parted, hanging open with a silent gasp of surprise, and a thrilling excitement over came the sovereign. She crossed the gap, claiming this smarty-mouthed dragon for herself, a shiver shooting down her back at the firm, yet malleable lips. Kissing her slowly, she savored every tiny inch their mouths met, and the odd taste of breath inside further. With a pop, she parted just to lick her own sensitive lips, savoring the fresh feeling of Shyvana’s mouth.

“What is it you said?” she asked, lowly, her grin devious as she stared into her lover’s eyes. “It was … strong. Mmm, demanding?”

“Um …” Shyvana blinked with a sense of confusion. She squirmed when Syndra’s other hand walked down her chest, lithe fingers playing with her hard belly. Her knees locked together harder the lower she went. “W-when?”

Pausing, Syndra kept her hand on Shyvana’s belly, splaying her fingers open, and enjoying what tough muscle and scales she felt there. A satisfied hum escaped her and she squeezed closer, her breasts delightfully tight against Shyvana’s back. “Ah, your body is quite the master work, my little dragon.”

“Little?” Shyvana scoffed.

“I am taller.” Syndra stuck her tongue out a little, earning a surprised look in turn.

“T-thatsss cheating!”

The sovereign leaned in, silencing Shyvana’s pouty protest with a hard kiss. She pulled away just as quick, enjoying how conflicted Shyvana seemed. Trailing upward with her hand, Syndra grasped at one her modest breasts, the unusually soft skin yielding to her. While not quite as soft or pebbly feeling as the loveliness between her legs, Syndra enjoyed how very perky they were. Shyvana jumped in her arms, a strangled moan of a sound in her throat. “But,” Syndra said, smirking. “I do desire it, you know.”

“B-by my father’sss blood, woman, I thought you were a virgin?” Shyvana shot back, her faux-twisting struggles little more than rubbing her body against Syndra’s. A more earnest moan wormed out when the hand on her breast squeezed. She stilled from Syndra’s mouth venturing to her ear, warm breath gently breathing onto it.

“You took care of that, did you not?”

She truly had no idea if any of that talk worked or not, but Shyvana seemed to love it. A sputtering, malformed answer died in the dragon’s mouth, her hearty, sexual shudder speaking for her. Syndra couldn’t help indulging in the warm, glowing feeling of doing so well, or how excited she made Shyvana. Rough hands grasped at her thighs, squeezing and pushing as if she wanted to be free, but all they did was caress her in turn.

“Oh, I just remembered,” she said, laughing an airy giggle. Freeing Shyvana’s breast, Syndra went lower with her hand, her other tight on her throat still. “It was quite, hmm, sexy, hearing it. You should do it more in the future for me.” How red her face must be right now. Syndra tried not to pay any mind to her own blushing.

“W-what isss it?”

The heat of Shyvana’s loins enveloped her fingers as they nudged past the ignored spheres. Tightly shut together, Syndra couldn’t get deep into Shyvana’s thighs at all, but she didn’t need to, either. She laid her hand there, and said, “Spread your legs, woman.”

Huffing in tiny, heated breaths, Shyvana’s thighs rubbed together. One of her hands shot toward Syndra’s and laid on top of it, almost to pull her away, but only pressing her down more. “Do you think a dragon isss sso easssy?” she rumbled with faux-threat, the fire warmth inside her lighting up a little.

“Easy? No … but I know you will.”

“Why’sss that?”

“Because I said to.”

Her heart beat furiously in her chest. Syndra loved this play of theirs, yet too, she wasn’t certain what would be too much. Perhaps teasing Shyvana on her height was mean? She was sensitive about such things. Anxiety flitted by, stilling Syndra as graver concerns began to weigh on her mind. Shyvana pushing backward shot her heart into a panic. The dragon shifted, and with her new angle, pushed herself open, her legs coming to rest over Syndra’s.

Elation wiped away any worry that overcame her, and giddiness bubbled up in her belly. Reaching lower, Syndra cupped Shyvana’s sopping wet pussy and the dragon jumped a tiny bit. “Good,” Syndra purred into her ear, “this will make it easier.”

She plucked up a sphere, rolling the orb between her knuckles, Shyvana’s burning gaze on it all the while. Pressing it against the outside folds of Shyvana’s pussy, she smirked at the small, surprised jump. Wetted and slippery smooth, she waited at the entrance, two fingers ready to push. “Now, relax.”

“You’re jussst copying me now, aren’t you?”

“Am I wrong?”

“You-youuu—“ Shyvana trailed off into a higher pitch, inhaling when Syndra pushed inward. She stiffened on the spot and grabbed Syndra. Little by little, the sphere went inward, the slight resistance of muscles yielding to it. Shyvana broke out into tiny, panting huffs, the jerky spasms of her hips making her buck against Syndra’s fingers. “Holy sssssshit!”

“Is there something wrong?”

“It’sss kind of—ngh, tight.”

It was clear to her that Shyvana was trying to act cool, but everything else betrayed her. Giddy excitement shivered through Syndra at the tiny, strained huffs of breath, and the scale-skin rub against her Shyvana did in her squirming. She hugged closer to the dragon and cupped her wet, twitching pussy lovingly. “Now,” she whispered, resting her chin on top of Shyvana’s head, “for the second one.”

“W-wait, two?”

“Three, ideally.”

“Three??”

Finger-deep, and the sphere well inside, Syndra withdrew, reaching for another. “You really do need two or three to appreciate it.”

“I can’t fit that many!”

“Let us find out.”

She had to bite her tongue to stop from giggling at Shyvana’s incredulous and flustered face. Syndra crossed the gap between them, planting a solid kiss on those thin lips. In a short minute, Shyvana began to relax in her arms, yielding to her demand with silent acceptance. Parting, the sovereign smiled, tastefully licking her own lips clean while she enjoyed Shyvana’s blushing face. “Relax,” she said teasingly.

A lowly, inaudible grumble answered back.

Without skipping a beat, Syndra picked up one of the remaining spheres. Fixed between her fingers, she brought it to the soft folds of Shyvana’s pussy. Syndra smirked and rolled her fingers back and forth, letting the tiny sphere slide up and down, just barely dipping in without committing. A jolt of Shyvana’s hips and a tight grip on her leg told her all she needed. “Well?” she whispered into the dragon’s scaled ear.

“W-what? Jussst do it!” Shyvana barked out.

Chuckling, Syndra pressed the sphere inward with two fingers, that same resistance of muscles meeting her once again. A tiny, keening cry sounded in Shyvana’s throat, the dragon tightly stiff in her arms. “Does it hurt?”

“Keep pusssshing innnn!”

A skin-tingling shiver shot down Syndra’s back. Pressing harder, she sank the sphere deeper, soft folds and feminine wetness enveloping her fingers once more. Shyvana jerked in tiny spasms, what might’ve been a moan coming out of her. Satisfied it was in place, Syndra withdrew her fingers to cup Shyvana’s quivering pussy with her whole hand. “There,” she breathed out, heavier than intended. “Two now.”

“Fuck, fuck,” Shyvana panted out, her head lolling back onto Syndra’s shoulder. “I’m ssso fucking tight.”

Using her other hand, Syndra ran her fingers along Shyvana’s twitchy, rock-hard belly. An earnest gasp followed, the dragon’s very breath erratic from each stroke of her fingers. Perhaps in a little way, she understood how hard Shyvana’s abs clenched, but it was hard to tell what was normal or not for her. Syndra smiled nonetheless and rubbed her face into Shyvana’s wonderfully thick hair. A heavy, not-quite-sweaty scent filled her nose, a mixture of their exertions together and that smoky smell she was starting to enjoy so much.

Syndra curled her fingers on Shyvana’s pussy, stroking up and down in slow, but pointed motions. The outer folds, the inner softness, and all the wetness dripping out; she felt everything, even Shyvana’s heart beat with its frantic pace. “Shyvana,” she whispered, clear enough to grab attention.

“H-huh?”

“What is it called … when a woman feels the best between her legs?” Syndra asked, flexing her fingers into a wide, wholesome grab of the dragon’s hotly dripping pussy. “When her mind goes blank with pure happiness?”

“Uh, uhm, mmmmmm …” Shyvana shuddered, her knees turning inward as her lower half clenched for a moment. “I don’t—your fingersss are sssso good …”

“That is what I wish from you.”

“Huh?”

The familiarity of this angle proved more useful than ever to Syndra. Though she had to reach a little farther, and the vagina her fingers played with was different, she knew best how to pleasure herself this way. In turn, she bet the same technique work where. She angled her fingers, bringing them together in pairs, and started her fingering in earnest. “Go blank,” she commanded into the dragon’s ear. “Feel so good you can’t think anymore.”

A throaty, choked moan answered in turn, and Syndra clung to Shyvana’s squirming form. Solid, muscular thighs closed around her fingers, but still she worked, delving inside deep with her middle and ring fingers. The very edges of the spheres teased her reach, bouncing and roiling around inside Shyvana as they were. Her palm, at this angle, teasing rubbed against the dragon’s clitoris, not wholly hard, but one each motion made Shyvana’s hips jerk.

“Sssyndra,” the dragon hissed out, almost a pant.

What a pure sound. Syndra smiled, giddy with happiness, and she brought up her other hand to Shyvana’s modest breast. Far too focused on her diligent working, she grasped it firmly, holding on with only a half-thought of squeezing pleasurably. More than anything else, it gave her a greater hold on the Shyvana, and the sovereign held her dearly, all the way to the roaring end. Though glowing with her magmatic blood, no fire came with Shyvana’s sexual cry, loud in the bedroom, this time. The dragon’s body clenched, twisted, and spasmed, every motion she made going straight into Syndra. Warmth gushed out onto the sovereign’s fingers, joining the other splatters on her bed sheets. Hardness teased her finger tips, and knowing that those spheres sought release as well, Syndra kept them inside, letting them do their work.

It took a good few minutes before all the tension in Shyvana bled away into nothing. The dragon went slack in Syndra’s arms, breathing in deep, her eyes shut, and her body’s glow lively. Such an honest expression, Syndra mused, letting go of Shyvana’s breast to follow along the lines with her fingers. Her other hand remained—almost painfully—trapped between Shyvana’s thighs.

She could not suppress this satisfied feeling in the slightest. Though her own body yearned for an intimate touch, Syndra relished the satisfaction of having so thoroughly sated Shyvana. Whatever great power the dragon had vanished into a noodly mess in her arms, using her as such a vital place to rest upon. She had read such things in her stories, and but to hold Shyvana herself, that was a world apart.

Syndra’s beaming smile went unnoticed, her attentions far too busy on finger combing Shyvana’s hair into place. I really do need a brush for you, hm? She mused, watching as Shyvana’s eyes wearily blinked open. Those golden eyes regarded her with shimmering brightness, her slitted pupils almost circular with how wide they were. Syndra paused, her breath catching in her throat.

“You’re good,” Shyvana muttered, her voice surprisingly clear of its draconic tones. “Sssyndra.”

“That is high praise coming from you.”

Snorting, Shyvana reached up with a hand, hooking behind Syndra’s head. She brought the sovereign in close, sealing the two of them together in a kiss. Hard, but with a certain intimacy, a kindness and love in a way neither of them wanted to put into words. She broke away slowly, smirking with that warrior’s pride of hers. “Quite the virgin, aren’t you?”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“For me? Yeah … ‘causssse I can’t believe my luck having a woman like you.”

Syndra chuckled and kissed Shyvana’s forehead. “There is a saying in Ionia, between two people like this.”

“Yeah? What?”

A trickle of embarrassment rose up Syndra’s throat, but in staring into Shyvana’s earnest eyes, she found the strength to go past it. “When one gives … or, is close to another, they say to take care of it, and them. It is … more complicated than that, but …”

Shyvana chuckled, and one of her hands sought Syndra’s, intertwining their fingers together. “Yeah. I get it. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you, Sssyndra.”

“Good.” Syndra lifted her nose up, staring down it at Shyvana. “I will take care of you in turn, Shyvana.”

The dragon broke out into a hissing giggle, one intermixed with a sharp inhale when she shifted her legs. “Look down at me, will you? Jussst … five more minutesss.”

Syndra wiggled her stuck hand between Shyvana’s thighs. “Could you open up a little?”

“Hm? Oh, but the sovereign is so eager to continue …”

I’ve been tricked, Syndra thought as Shyvana twisted in her arms, suddenly bringing them both face-to-face. Pure desire stared her down in Shyvana’s gaze, and she could only shiver in anticipation.

*~*

There was an odd feeling tickling Syndra's senses. Her body felt worn out and tired still, even after her slumber. It was a delightful feeling, better than even the tiredness she had after a workout. It beckoned her to laze about, to enjoy it and herself in a wonderful idleness. Yet, a pressure sat upon her chest, its weight unignorable now that she recognized it.

She slowly opened her eyes, squinting at the bright morning light trying to shine through her window. Beneath her face lay a mass of red hair, and a hot, steady breathing on her neck. Deep vibrations resonated through her breasts and belly, almost ticklish with their rhythm. The sovereign’s sleep addled brain slowly pieced together not only what happened last night, but the strange thing happening right now.

Is she … is she purring like a cat? Syndra marveled, amusement interwoven with sheer perplexity. A good few minutes of sitting there and thinking on it only reaffirmed her suspicion. Shyvana sat draped over her, face firmly planted into her neck, purring away with utter contentment.

Breathing in deep, the taste of each other hung on the air still. Syndra stared up at her burned ceiling, exhaling slowly. Her body tingled the more it woke up, wonderfully numbing heat rolling off of Shyvana in waves. Even asleep, the dragon radiated warmth, explaining in one stroke why her thick bed covers were nowhere to be found.

Syndra raised a hand, flexed her fingers to wake up her muscles, then set it upon Shyvana’s back. Hardy scales and rough skin met her, and she held it there, hugging the dragon to her. Her eyes closed, though not to sleep.

Hm, this is nice …

One detail remained, however. A small fact that none of the stories or gossip she’d studied ever mentioned. Such was its potency, Syndra visibly strained beneath it, doing her best to do anything other than get up. The utter hell of this agony certainly made it clear why no one talked about it.

… but I really have to pee.

[THE END]
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The Sovereign's Darkflame