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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.

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One can train their punches to break steel.
One cannot undo the pain such hands endure for that strength.

*~*

In slumber's murky abyss, the rhythmic patterning of something roused her. One pointed, scaled ear awoke with a quickness imprinted from years of survival. Water droplets splattered on shingles and wood, an odd far cry from the cold stone and glass she was used to hearing. It was only rain, a conclusion her instincts were satisfied with.

That singular moment of urgency, however, wrest the peace of sleep away from her.

Inhaling with a deep, chest-expanding lungful, Shyvana gold eyes blinked open, working away the morning blur. The rain's gentle song greeted her in a calming embrace, a reminder of tranquility that beckoned her ease. A flower-patterned paper ceiling greeted her clearing vision, an unusually large, black scorch mark across its creamy expanse. She stared at it, not all her thoughts together, and old habits returned once more.

Her fingers twitched and curled shakily into fists; her toes and calves flexed. With a little focus, her abs and thighs tightened and relaxed, and her shoulders rolled off their stiffness. A weight on her arm, however, kept that thoroughly pinned.

The dragon looked to her side and found the fair backside of a beautiful woman, a long mess of white hair strewn across her creamy, unblemished skin. An elation lifted her heart at the sight and before she knew it, that difficult way of smiling came to her. Shyvana let out a soundless exhale, the last of her tension bleeding away into the rain’s song.

When did you roll there, hm? she thought, wiggling her arm. As much as she would have loved to stay there, watching Syndra's sleeping chest rise and fall, her numb arm was a problem. With a skill born from years of starry-eyed tavern wenches and clingy army cadets, Shyvana wormed her arm free, leaving her lover undisturbed. Massaging the numb appendage, Shyvana grimaced at the tingly pins and needles dancing down all the way to her finger tips. You're supposed to sleep on me, not my arm.

For as much as she loved when women slept on her chest, being a natural furnace made it difficult for them. She understood, but it didn’t sting any less when they were as far as they could be in the bed by morning. Syndra, however, made it work—she hadn't a clue how, but the sovereign always stayed near her. Shyvana's inner cuddlebug gleefully marked that off on a growing list of things she adored about the Ionian.

Scratching at her bed head, Shyvana finger-combed through the long red locks and their small snarls. Her slitted eyes lazily surveyed the dim bedroom, the cloudy morning sun spilling through the paper screen windows and the garden door. They settled on a porcelain tray sitting right next to the futon. A fleeting memory returned to mind, a scoff from Syndra at the very idea of having the tray around.

And this is why I had you get one, she thought smugly, leaning over. Plucking up a fine white cloth, Shyvana dipped it in a tiny washbasin before scrubbing her face. Once freshened up, she worked on the rest of herself, cleaning away the grimy spots the night left behind. I don't have to get up.

Her eyes stayed on Syndra while she worked, drinking in the enticing beauty laid next to her. The Ionian kept fit for a mage, pleasing dips and a firmness lining her back, yet still graced by those soft spots she loved finding. Small stains of red dotted her creamy skin, echoes of where Shyvana's own hands were, a reminder that left the dragon pleasantly warmer. Her gaze couldn't help going towards the big, bubbly butt peeking out from the bedsheets, Syndra's perfect globes beckoning.

Maybe later, Shyvana reasoned, burying her temptation enough to chuck the cloth back onto the tray. Satisfied at her cleanliness, she scooted across the futon and slid up against Syndra's inviting back. Mindful to not wake her up, the dragon looped an arm around Syndra’s belly and squeezed the two of them together, relishing the soft skin kissing her.

"My perfect little treasure," she mumbled, nuzzling into thicket of hair at Syndra's neck. The delicate scent of a flower–she had no idea what–graced her nose. Between Syndra's perfume and natural aroma, the flowery flagrance fit just right, even if she found such things annoying otherwise. She kept her nose free just enough for clean air, though.

The rain and her lover's sweet scent lulled Shyvana into a wondrously calm place. Her thoughts quieted, worldly concerns centering on Syndra's closeness, a half-aware urge that made her hug the woman closer. Her hand lazily explored, venturing across Syndra's belly and side, teasing the tops of her thigh, and skimming just beneath those lovely breasts. There wasn't a destination, only a need to reacquaint herself again with each little spot.

No one thing sufficed without the other, for every inch of Syndra fit so together so flawlessly. Long, flowing white hair, a hefty bosom caught her eye even under a dress, a delicious set of curvy hips and long legs that gave her the world's best butt. Shyvana grinned as she traced her fingers down Syndra's side, imagining every part her hand wasn't at.

Shyvana wondered how Syndra might be if she woke up in that instant. Languid, perhaps indignant, but she knew how to make the haughty woman preen to her attentions. Syndra's sharp will wouldn't ever own up to such a thing, glowering with that condescending look even as her lips trembled and a blush stained her face. That look alone spurred many of her fantasies late at night, just imagining the sovereign keening for her release with a slack to her domineering glower.

A lowly moan jarred her wandering thoughts aside, making Shyvana take stock. Her roaming hand nearly tipped between Syndra's shut thighs, snug in the tuft of white hair above her mound. She considered going deeper for a moment, but pulled her fingers back, feeling her way to Syndra's other side. A wicked thought made her stretch her rough, scaly fingers around the Ionian's rump. She grasped the full globe, appreciating it with a slowly tightening squeeze.

The mage stirred, her feet crossing and her head craning to the side, but she didn't wake up.

Shyvana listened to the slow breathing and felt Syndra's tiny twitches, both from a sleepy dream and her own wandering hand. Idle thoughts flitted by, notions of breakfast or what to do for the day blissfully irrelevant as she listened to Syndra’s breathing.

Her hand curled to a point, one lazy finger trailing up the sleeping mage's side toward her chest. Shyvana smiled as she found Syndra's one of big breasts, so beautifully flopped to the side. She dipped her finger into the little nook between breast and chest, tracing the curve into the cushy valley her bosom made. With how the bedroom air thickened as her finger teased, the dragon couldn't help smirking.

Ah, there's her magic, she mused, the extraordinary power teasing her as a calm ocean would wash on the shore. Most mages tended to spew magic out like fountains, but Syndra's simply was. How or why eluded her, but the very world around the sovereign bowed in ways she couldn't fully explain. The still waters rumbled would awake long and Shyvana couldn’t resist teasing that immenseness a little more.

Grinning slyly, she ventured upward with her finger. The ever-slightly-rougher texture of Syndra's areola slid under her finger until she pressed against her sleeping nipple. She rubbed it in slow circles, feeling the plump tit stiffen from its sleepy self to one begging attention. With her thumb and forefinger, she captured it, rubbing back and forth until it was hard as could be. A girlish gasp escaped from her lover when she gently pinched, one of sleep as much as arousal.

Shyvana propped her head up with her other hand, vividly watching the sovereign's groggy awakening. Syndra stretched all the way up with her arms while her legs straightened, her whole being trembling. Two golden eyes couldn't help enjoying how cute Syndra's half-awake efforts were and the dragon kept still all the while, quietly holding her breast.

Alas, seemingly ignorant of her, Syndra sat up just enough to draw her incredibly long hair straight, gathering up all the loose strands in a practiced motion. The white tangled mess looked to need quite a brushing, something Shyvana noted for later. Blinking her faintly glowing eyes, the mage's dazed gaze swept around the room until she found who was watching her.

Their eyes locked together, a delightful swirl of desire, happiness, and contentment whirled in Shyvana's head. Syndra, powerful and world shaping, sat before her as a gorgeous woman with the most beautiful, sleepy morning smile. Shyvana's hand rose slowly, the back of her fingers coming to rest against the mage’s cheek. She brushed away some stray hairs, her blue skin sharp against the creamy white.

"Is there something on me?" Syndra asked, her frown not as elegantly refined as it could be.

"No," Shyvana muttered, turning her hand to cup the woman's cheek fully. Syndra’s sharp feature, yet soft skin, elated her as the sovereign nuzzled into her palm with warmest morning eyes she'd ever seen. Heat bubbled in the dragon’s own cheeks and she knew those stupid lines had to be visible with her blush.

With a soft, airy giggle, Syndra poked at Shyvana's nose, making the dragon go cross-eyed. "Good morning."

"Hmph, good morning," the dragon responded lowly, a toothed grin coming out. She snaked her other arm around and reached for Syndra's plump butt with strong, playful squeeze. The surprised little gasp that followed made her grin widen, but she kept herself back, content to hold her.

"I just woke up and you want to again?" the sovereign grumbled despite how she leaned in closer.

"I can wait," Shyvana purred, her butt grabbing hand sliding suggestively back and forth. The exasperated groan Syndra made stirred a hearty chortle from her. "Shush, woman, let me hold you."

A flair of that familiar combativeness flew through Syndra's glowing eyes, but it was gone as quick as it came. Grunting, she hugged herself closer and buried her face into Shyvana's neck. "It is far too early for this."

"Is it?"

Incoherent, ticklish mumbling answered back and she smiled, unable to resist poking the grumpy mage a little. Settling back onto the futon fully, Shyvana pulled Syndra on top of her, letting the taller Ionian squirm into perfect cuddling position. Taking advantage of the opening, Shyvana set a hand on Syndra's back, sliding it up and down with frank appreciation. Her possessive side preened at how the Ionian pressed closer in tiny opening moves, offering more to her hand.

The two of them laid there quietly, Syndra's softness molded to Shyvana's scaled body. The dragon relished it all, keenly aware of those hefty breasts pressed into hers, that kissable belly flush to her rock-hard abs. She tempered her urge to hug harder, to squeeze her lover tightly to her, to take in every part of her and more that she could. Such a fiery desire burned away the lull of slumber and peace, her heart beating excitedly, but still she waited.

Massaging Syndra's butt was more than an enough for the moment.

"You can use the other one, you know," the airy quip whispered into her ear.

Shyvana's heated thoughts paused in confusion. A moment's consideration and she realized her hand had only been on one cheek the entire time. Chuckling, she dragged her hand across and teased the dip of Syndra's rump before she squeezed the ignored side greedily. Those creamy white hips rolled into her lazily as Syndra's long legs slid into straddling her hips proper.

"How do you have so much energy?" Syndra wondered aloud in a breathy exhale, her warm breath billowing into Shyvana's neck. One pointed finger twirled on the dragon's shoulder, aimlessly following the erratic scale pattern.

"A peaceful morning with a gorgeous, naked woman on my chest?" The dragon remarked with a thoughtful hum, her free hand snaking across the broad of Syndra's back. "My beautiful little mage?"

"I am taller than you," Syndra cut in dryly before she caught her scaled ear in her lips.

"Not on your back you're not," Shyvana returned, tapping Syndra's butt with her fingers in a stiff, very light slap. She grinned at the way the sovereign jumped and the girlish squeak that escaped her.

"Do not think with how tender I am right now that I am easy," Syndra whispered darkly.

Despite her smile, a tiny worm of an idea arose in Shyvana's mind. An old fear, one buried in the earth of old and which she sought to keep there, inevitably returned. Although Syndra always insisted, she wondered how much someone so soft could take with her rough strength.

"Are you worried again?"

"I ... what?"

Startled awake, Shyvana could only watch as Syndra's head lifted into her vision, glowing eyes creased with annoyance.

"You are."

"No, I'm not," she defended lamely, more surprised at being found out. "Why do you say that?"

The annoyance became irritation.

"The only time you are not purring is when some silly fear is in your head."

"It is not silly! I–what do you mean, purring?"

All of Syndra shifted from the snuggly, goopy mess of cuddles into a solid and firm, fire driven purpose. She pressed in, not to hug, but to rub, the entirety of her commanding Shyvana's body awake. Her face leaned in, those glowing eyes crackling, and all her weight went into a smothering kiss. The tiny gasp from Shyvana was swallowed by her plump lips and that tongue delving inside, plundering her willing mouth with such desire.

Barely recovered from her surprise, Shyvana found Syndra slipping away, those wettened lips dragging all the way to her ear.

"Grab me," the sovereign demanded, nipping at scaled ridge.

"What?"

One boney, articulate hand grabbed Shyvana's and forced her onto Syndra's bubbly butt. "Grab me, Dragon. Do it like I am the gold you desire so much."

The taunt prickled Shyvana's pride and she obliged with a hard squeeze, the luscious skin of Syndra's rump enveloping her fingers. She scoffed at the tiny, mockful fight that followed and pulled Syndra into more, just enough to keep her in place.

"Yes, like that," the Ionian hummed, her whispery breath in Shyvana's ear. The very sound stirred the dragon's blood, a flush warmth arising from her core. Yet, her fears remained, a concern that not even lust could diffuse.

"Syndra–"

"What, exactly, are you concerned about?" the sovereign's cut her off, her voice resonating in the quiet bedroom.

"I don't want to ..." Shyvana mumbled, feeling Syndra's very presence leering down. Her hardy eyes turned aside. "You know, hurt you, because I'm rough."

Of everything she might've expected from such an embarrassing confession, giggles wasn't one of them. Blinking at the girlish sound, she laid there as Syndra shook with amused laughter, uncertain if she should be offended or relieved.

"Do you forget that I desire such roughness?" Syndra intoned, airy and amused. She sank a little lower, nuzzling into Shyvana's mess of red hair, her lips resting on the crook of her neck. "Hmm? Do this, then," she commanded, grasping for Shyvana's hand once more. "Take me as you would, no thoughts of fear. Enjoy me, little dragon."

Even as Syndra emulated an encouraging grope with her hand, Shyvana's sensed something else going about. The thrum of power coursed in the air, mute beneath the rain, but a sheer presence that goaded her ego as much as her lover's taunt. The dragon raised a hand, only to find a vice-grip of something unseen locking it in place, not even her skin twitching.

"You will not go far from where I want."

In what wasn't the first time, she had to remind herself how fantastical Syndra actually was. The Ionian could be a soft beauty on the eyes and hands, but she wasn't a push over by any imagination. The invisible grip disappeared as the magic in the air simmered and that fathomless ocean of power calmed again.

"You like it rough, hm?" Shyvana growled playfully, flexing her fingers.

"Did I say that?" Syndra smiled into Shyvana's neck.

With a grunt of a laugh, Shyvana grappled the Ionian's backside and rolled over. A sweet, airy laugh joined hers, a tangle of sheets snaring their legs as the dragon pinned Syndra to the futon, and those creamy legs spread across her scaled hips. Half-lidded glowing eyes peered up at her, Syndra's long finger rubbing invitingly at the bottom of her own lip; her messy bed head of white hair splayed around her with the allure of an unwitting temptress.

For as many other women she'd seen, Shyvana's blood never thundered so much as it had with her. Desire, once so difficult to conjure, came easily, and she laid atop the soft skinned woman with a commanding angle. Gazing deep into her eyes, she took hold of her breast fully, and the inhale that followed made her smile lecherously.

Words were said but they flew past Shyvana as she hugged to Syndra and laid claim on those open lips still smeared with last night's lipstick. She kissed hard, drinking in their plumpness, wetting them with flicks of her tongue and popping suckles. Syndra arched in a wave beneath her, pressing closer, legs snug around her hips, her warmth inviting Shyvana in.

Her blue fingers slipped around Syndra's head, delving into those long white locks with a determined grip. Pulling the mage back slightly, she pried open her mouth with her own, finding an eager moan greeting her long tongue as she went in between those lipstick smeared lips.

She couldn’t help preening with victory, greedily tasting every succulent inch she visited. Syndra’s own eager embrace spurred her on, their bodies squeezed together as tightly as their mouths. Her breast holding hand slid down and sank into her lover’s grinding hips, taking perch to help in the haphazard grinding.

The rain song was broken by their half-formed moans and the wet pop of their gasps, and Shyvana shuddered as heat bloomed within. Syndra’s hands flew onto her back, desperate to hold as she broke the kiss with her resonant cries.

“Yes! Keep moving!”

Shyvana licked her lips of spittle and sank her teeth on the Ionian’s delicate neck with a throaty suck. The thumping pulse of blood coursed under her lips, Syndra’s very excitement dancing against her licking tongue. The hands and legs upon her tightened and she ground the entirety of herself with abandon, their hair a wild mess, the sheets snaring the two of them together.

The wetness between their legs flowed freely, a slippery mess of their love that left their nerves sizzling for more. Their womanhoods pressed against each other and their thighs, sloppy and fitful in their fervent pace. Every stroke of smooth skin against Shyvana’s clit shocked her fiery blood, stirring deeper growls as her body grew tight and tense.

Her hands fisted the futon as she grabbed for leverage, golden eyes fixated on Syndra’s red-stained face. Every part of her scale skinned prickled, and a desire deep from within, her very instincts overcoming her, and she ground against the sovereign. Their breasts smashed together as Shyvana rocked her hips into Syndra’s, asserting as much as she could every time their pussies ground together.

Nary a thought but desire compelled her, a primal urge to make her beautiful lover know who she belonged to. With all her body singing with fire and sex, Shyvana let out a stuttering, victorious growl, the drunken pleasure of dominance thundering in her blood. The electric joy of release jolted through her, every inch of her body jerking as release spilled and her nerves sang their joy.

Through the fired haze of sweat and moans, Shyvana found Syndra slackening around her, an incoherent mumbling tickling her ear. The mage laid beneath her, not an ounce of muscle left in her, and the primal desire in the dragon was satisfied. She groped at Syndra blindly, enjoying what parts of her lover’s owned body she wanted.

Panting for air, Shyvana drank in the sight and smells, satisfied in a way that she hadn’t expected. Her boiling blood demanded more, its ever insatiable hunger for greater release, but she tempered it with Syndra’s sweating, slick body.

“Take you asss I would, hmm?” Shyvana recalled, her growly voice a bit deeper. “Did my woman forget how I like taking her?”

A familiar look of indignation passed through Syndra’s eyes, but it only stroked Shyvana’s ego. With a laborious effort, she sat up with her arms, leering down at her panting lover. Mere minutes ago Syndra thought to be mocking, but a perverse pride swelled at the sight of how spent she’d made the sovereign.

Reluctantly, she worked on rolling off of Syndra, and the two of them groaned as their skins kissed one another. Their hair and sheets tangled together, and that alone took several minutes for them to free each other. Scratching her sore head, Shyvana chuckled and awkwardly reached over to the forgotten tray, drawing a curious look.

“What are you doing?” Syndra mumbled, lazily trying to tidy herself up without much success.

“Finding a cloth, I’d hope,” Shyvana remarked, eying the white fabric in her hands suspiciously. Syndra’s giggle made her smile and she readied the cloth. Bringing its cool wetness to the sovereign’s face, she gently wiped around her mouth.

“Oh, it’s cold,” Syndra cooed as Shyvana went to her cheeks and forehead. She followed along every stroke, presenting the best openings with a regal appreciation. Laid down as she was, her eyes shut, an unintelligible but pleased murmur coming out.

The dragon diligently worked, not bothering to hide her blatant caressing. It was a delightfully torturous tease in its own way; the lustful fire rippled at how soft and supple Syndra’s skin was, blocked by a thin layer of fabric. A half-formed idea came to throw the cloth away, but she kept at it, tempering the urge with her desires to make Syndra comfortable.

Here I am, cleaning someone else, Shyvana thought with a chuckle, finding nothing wrong with the idea. One glowing eye cracked open, giving her a curious look.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

“Well, I’ve already told you you’re beautiful.”

“I could stand to hear it again.”

Shyvana chortled heartily as she threw away the dirtied cloth and got another. She began again at Syndra’s neck, mindfully cleaning where the faint line of her lips left a mark. “Your ssskin leavess my handss and, heh, mouth, tingling. Sssoft and tasssty,” she said, finishing with an audible bite of her teeth.

Her hands went lower in spite of the disbelieving snort, looping around to Syndra’s captivating breasts. “Your breasts are so big, but always hidden in those dresses of yours. You know I want to tear them open, right? Just to hold them like this.”

“I have seen your eye once or twice,” Syndra remarked, pushing her chest up into Shyvana’s groping fingers. The wash cloth crawled across them, extra slow upon her erect nipples, drawing a delighted shudder from her. “And what would you do with them?”

“Make them know who they really belong to,” Shyvana said frankly, then grinned at the squinted gaze. “Maybe masssage them until their plump and tender afterward.”

“They are now, but I do not see any massaging.”

“Oh?” Shyvana echoed with offense, cupping Syndra’s bosom in her hands. She worked her palms in a rhythm, giving them the caress she’d promised. Working up from the very underside of her lover’s breasts, she made certain every part had its attention, even the pointy, erect nipples at the peak. Syndra’s airy inhale delighted her to hear and she couldn’t help give a tiny, playful jiggle of the sovereign’s huge bosom with her fingers.

Syndra spared her a dry look, but smiled all the same. She shifted on the bed, throwing her hair to the side and cocking her head against her hand. Seeming all the more comfortable now, an air of command arose in spite of her bedhead and flushed looks.

“Continue,” the sovereign purred, eyes narrowed.

Shyvana, confused at what had been happening, could only marvel at how effortlessly she’d been shown up. It pleased her in ways she didn’t bother to figure out, but she stuck out her tongue all the same. Syndra smiled with a sultry allure and Shyvana made a show of finishing, but all too certainly taking handful gropes until she was done. She especially rolled her palms and the wash cloth over Syndra’s round areola in a way that wouldn’t be wholly satisfying.

The grumpy moan that came when she pulled away left her a little smug.

“Do I pleassse you now?” she asked with faux-servitude.

Syndra hummed thoughtfully, lifting her own hefty chest to inspect it. She didn’t bother hiding her own gloating smirk at how Shyvana watched a little too keenly. “Yes, this will do.”

“Ssso glad to be of ssservice.”

Damnit, she got me again.

The dragon’s dry humor won her a giggle and she couldn’t help doing so herself. A lewd air hung about, but fun as well in a way she hadn’t had in a long time. The quiet morning rain felt so fitting for how warm their bedroom was, the light illuminating Syndra’s creamy nakedness in ways divinity would be jealous of.

Leaning forward, she perched ontop of the sovereign again, planting a sweet kiss upon her lipstick-smeared sexy lips. The two of them fell into an intimate caress, a naked hug that brought them so close together once more. Shyvana smiled and chuckled, happily rubbing against Syndra slowly.

“What is so funny?” the Ionian asked between their wet kisses.

“Jusst wondering,” Shyvana said much the same, “about sstaying in bed all day.” A hand of fine, long fingers snuck onto her rump, groping as hard as she had done earlier.

"What an idea that would be," the Ionian breathed, taking her mouth toward Shyvana's ear. "Ohh," she breathed out a moan, stirring a primal shiver from her draconic lover. "Laying here all day with those hands of yours? I might be able to do that."

Those very words sent an electric jolt down Shyvana's back, an excitement that lit her blood and nerves alike. "Ssshall we?" she whispered heatedly, her heart beating faster.

Syndra gave one long, thoughtful hum, before she grabbed Shyvana's shoulder and butt, then rolled the dragon right off of her.

"After breakfast and a stop at the bath house."

The dragon laid on the futon, blinking wildly as the sovereign rose up, disentangling herself from the bed sheets.

"But I - wait, what?" she sputtered, watching as Syndra smirked evilly down at her and turned away. Her eyes couldn't help going to the sight of Syndra's big bubble butt, jiggling tantalizingly with every step the mage took.

Damnit, you can't tease me like that!

*~*

“This is quite relaxing.” Syndra sighed pleasantly, laid back in the hot spring. The water rose to her shoulders, her head set on a small tower on the rocky water edge.

“You don’t ssay.” Shyvana, who laid beside her, spared a dry look.

“Hm? Do you not enjoy it?” Syndra asked with one eye cracked open.

“It’sss fine, the heat iss only a little lossst on me.”

“The heat … ah. Dragon. That would be a problem.” A minute of silence passed between them, Syndra’s frown deepening all the while. “Wait, how do you enjoy bathing, then?”

“Cold water.”

“Cold water?”

Shyvana shrugged, aimlessly staring at the rafters in the ceiling. “It relaxesss me more. Wakesss up my blood and mussscles.”

“Cold can be welcoming sometimes,” Syndra agreed. “But for me, this heat is wonderful on my soreness.”

An uncomfortable feeling jabbed its tiny daggers at Shyvana’s conscience. “Sssorry.”

“Spare me such drivel. Have you not once been sore after a workout?”

“Who hasssn’t?”

A surge of magic swelled in the air, wrapping its invisible tendrils around Shyvana. The dragon perked up in surprise as she was lifted over right onto Syndra’s lap. Blinking owlishly, she found herself comfortably nestled on the sovereign’s soft thighs and cushy breasts, a welcome change to the spring’s rocky floor.

That Syndra perched her head on top of hers, however, prickled the shorter woman’s pride a bit.

“Then I should massage you in turn, hmm?” Syndra mused aloud, her pointed fingers inching their way onto Shyvana’s modest breasts. Finger-by-finger they wrapped around them, grabbing hold with a possessiveness that surprised the Demacian.

"You could," Shyvana airily remarked, jutting her chest forward encouragingly.

“Perhaps even satisfy you twice today, my greedy dragon?”

A practiced ear did not miss much, least of all such a change in tone. Shyvana stilled, wondrous if she had misheard. “What do you mean?” The fingers on her chest started their slow work, but Shyvana ignored them. “Sssyndra? You didn’t enjoy our morning?”

“Mmm, I did,” the sovereign hummed into the dragon’s ear. “Your eyes alight, a hunger for me that left my knees weak, that determined look I see in my dreams … oh, it was very enjoyable.”

“I—you sssound unhappy?” Shyvana asked aloud, as much to herself to Syndra.

“Why would you think that?”

“You didn’t get the, err, sssame, as I did?” Shyvana wasn’t sure how to broach such a topic. What came to mind was better suited for women she’d never see again, not the one she wanted every night. Creeping dread, that foul taste of failure, crept up in her throat at the thought.

“ … What?”

Shyvana turned part way around, her incredulous gaze meeting Syndra’s. The two of them sat there, utterly perplexed at what the other was saying.

“Can you tell me what we are talking about, exactly?” the sovereign inquired with a raised brow.

Scratching at her wet head, Shyvana huffed and shrugged her shoulders. “Did you enjoy our morning?”

“Yes?” Syndra intoned as if that could possibly be a wrong answer. “I was delighted to wake up to it.”

Although she felt as if she was still missing something, Shyvana squirmed her way back into her spot underneath Syndra’s chin. “It’ss fine, then. Let’sss do the massage.”

Syndra chuckled behind her, the motion jiggling her. Lithe fingers snuck their way into her hair, rubbing her scalp gently.

“What terrible stress you have. Why not lounge upon me, dragon, and enjoy my gift to you?”

The mage’s other hand, unoccupied, rose from the water, three fingers held up. Shyvana’s eyes crawled toward it as three familiar, marble-sized dark spheres warped into existence.

“I may be too sore, but they are certainly eager.”

A tiny, acknowledging ‘ah’ escaped Shyvana before Syndra set upon her.

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The Sovereign's Darkflame