OOM All Skate Skellig Dream Magic Weirdness -Part Three

[brave_kreyu]

The lost city is carved into stone, even into the earth itself in places. A small oasis remains, and that's where Kreyu lands in her dragon shape, Skellig on her back.

An entire PRIDE of lions was asleep here, this place a den, but Kreyu's arrival sends them all fleeing in terror. THEY know who the most terrible predator in the area is quite well, thank you!

"A bit of luck. Nothing too big should be here, if they had made this place a den." They won't be back while they can still smell her scent.

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[brave_kreyu]

"Safer to wear sandals in the city, greater chance of sharp things to step on unexpectedly." And, of course, more people mean more mess to potentially step in.

"You'll like the feel of finer linen on your skin, I think," she tells him. "Not silk, but it's nice."

She leans into him some more.

(If he has no idea what she has planned, then it will be a nice surprise!)

[27_53]

"You will spoil me," he teases gently, sinking a little further into the warm water of the bath as she cuddles into him.

He has Kreyu, he has had a snack, there is beer, he is warm and comfortable. What more could a man desire?

"And it makes sense." A smirk crosses his features. "I seem to suspect that your reputation comes with a higher social class than that in the village."

[brave_kreyu]

Kreyu chuckles. "Wasn't intentional on my part, but I suppose no one thinks someone who can do magic belongs in the lower social classes."

She flushes. "My understanding of how much things were worth was a bit...skewed." Given the draconic tendency to hoard wealth because karma tends to cling to it and the fact that a dragon doesn't really NEED to exchange goods for services often...

[27_53]

"I typically relied on handouts, trades," Skellig offers, with a shrug of one shoulder. "I seem to recall that I have long since played the role of the beggar. From what I can catch in my memory."

(There still isn't much, and what is there is worsening, the static becoming thicker and more difficult to sort through. He isn't outwardly concerned, and only mildly bothered inwardly...)

"It may be useful to teach me currency, before we go to the markets. Or what would be more 'normal' in trade, for things you are looking for us to gather."

[brave_kreyu]

Beggar is not a word Kreyu knows, but she can glean some things from context. "Trade is how it works, trading what one has for what one desires. Coins are valued by their weight and their metal. There is generally some bickering over the price until an agreement is reached."

"Gold and silver are useful for trade because they keep and they are widely accepted, but one might trade anything anywhere, if you can find a buyer who wants what you have."

[27_53]

"That makes sense, well enough."

Skellig reaches up, brushes an errant strand of hair back from her face to tuck it behind her ear, the motion familiar. And if his fingertips linger on her cheek for an extra moment? Then so be it.

"I am known to be rather persuasive, if the need arises."

[brave_kreyu]

She leans into his fingertips. "I had thought about braiding my hair, but that would deny us both the pleasure of tucking it back into place."

"I've certainly found you so," Kreyu replies. "Though I am of course quite biased." She reaches up to his hair, pats it gently. "Would you like me to wash your hair?"

[27_53]

Skellig shifts one eyebrow, intrigued. "I...I have never had someone else wash my hair." His voice is a little puzzled. "You would do such a thing for me?"

(This is not entirely true - there have been a few instances where he has had his hair washed by another, but not in a situation such as the one they are in now.)

[brave_kreyu]

"Of course," she replies. "Easier for another person to reach some places, and likely to be pleasurable for us both." He likes her hands in his hair, she likes HAVING her hands in his hair. Win/Win.

[27_53]

"More than likely."

He smirks. "We were in any other establishment, I would be concerned that we might cause a disruption, but I do not feel as if that is the case within these walls."

There are echoes, here within this room. As well as other sounds that he is very firmly Not Listening To, reverberating through the halls and from behind locked doors.

[brave_kreyu]

She laughs. "Oh yes, they cater to entertainment and pleasures of all kinds here. Part of the reason it's so popular."

She gestures to Skellig to dip his hair in the water.

[27_53]

"I gathered as much, as we approached."

Skellig shifts slightly to lean forward and duck his head under the water - going face first helps keep the water off his wings, even if they're not being 'seen' at the moment - and also gives him a brief respite from the 'noise' surrounding them. Even with his ears 'off', it is still loud in this space.

He resurfaces, looks at her. Now she's armed with the soap...

[brave_kreyu]

The soap smells of honey and cinnamon as she puts some on her hands.

She smiles softly at him, then starts working on the front of his head first. She massages the soap into his hair, gentle circles, massaging his scalp.

[27_53]

His eyes are shut, because he has no desire for soap to get in them - even though he knows Kreyu's hands are careful, along with her fingers - and it is obvious as he sighs, that that feels very nice.

"Could get used to this."

[brave_kreyu]

"I wouldn't mind if you did," she answers. She works her way through all of his hair that she can reach from the front, then moves behind him to reach the back. Slow, careful, thorough. Hopefully, he's not asleep by the time she asks him to duck his head under the water again.

[27_53]

He isn't asleep, but he has definitely drifted off a bit into the haze that lingers between levels of consciousness, and it takes an extra blink or two before he does as she asks and ducks his head to rinse.

"I would offer to do yours," he says, a little unsure. "I just do not know if I would get it sufficiently?" After all, she has a lot more hair than he does.

[brave_kreyu]

"I think you could, but we don't have to do it now," she replies. "My hair gets a bit...frizzy just after it's been washed, disobedient."

She kisses him, soft and gentle. The smell of honey and cinnamon mixed with HIS scent surprisingly alluring.

[27_53]

"You are a wild creature, my dragon."

He returns the kiss, equally soft. While there are many things they could do in this space...simply existing, relaxing, enjoying each other's company...is quite nice. A welcome respite from the chaos.

"It would make sense it would resist being tamed."

[brave_kreyu]

"Perhaps that IS the reason," she replies. "Or as good a reason as I'm likely to find."

She grabs some rags, starts to wash her body with the soap. "Stay in here TOO long, and I'll start to look like a prune."

[27_53]

"As would I."

He waits until there is a pause in her motion enough for him to lean in, press a kiss to the side of her head, lips brushing her temple.

"I would still find you alluring, even with wrinkled skin."

[brave_kreyu]

She flushes. "I would find you alluring too." She passes him the soap, then rinses off the soap on her skin.

Once they're finished washing up, there are cloths available to use as towels to dry off. She slips easily back into her linen gown and sandals, then starts to unfold the bundle of clothing for Skellig. "Oh good, everything is here."

[27_53]

Skellig dries himself, watching her as she dresses and then as she unfolds the bundle of clothing.

"I will admit I had no clue what you asked for them to fetch for me," he says. "My focus was on your friend and his leg. I had to tweak a few nerves to align them better..."

Curiously, he steps closer and looks at the clothes, then at her.

[brave_kreyu]

"The kilt will be familiar enough, although the linen is finer," she says as she passes it to him. The linen is indeed much softer than that of his old kilt.

"Given that you are used to milder climes, you may be able to do without the top." The item she unfolds is also white linen, something like a vest. "I'm not sure how it will interact with your wings, I may need to modify it."

"And you can just slip your feet into the sandals, then adjust the straps." They are fancy sandals, with tiny bits of gold embossed onto the leather.

[27_53]

Dressing himself in the kilt has become automatic and familiar as well, the motions now well-practiced. He appreciates the feel of the linen against his skin, a tighter weave. Studying the top, he contemplates just how he would make it work with his wings - they would need to modify it just a bit, to allow for room.

"I would wear it if it would best suit the role you would have me play," he says. "Would your man wear it, after we have now completed our journey to the city?"

Sitting on a low bench, he studies the sandals before working to put them on.

(He misses his boots.)

Adjusting the straps, he glances over again at the vest, then at her.

[brave_kreyu]

"Possibly. But you could get away without it, especially since I'm known as a foreigner here." She fiddles with the pot of kohl, the lid is stuck. "My husband may wear what pleases him."