Law -- Logs

The sun rises on the Circle-H after the successful conclusion of the mission for Dominic, finding three Celestials sleeping in a happy tangle of limbs, hair, and bedclothes. Bella, who has nestled herself against one of Slate's sides while Rosie curled against the other, raises her head as she feels the breaking of the dawn. In the soft gray light she looks across the Seraph to the Mercurian, then takes the bare moment she knows she has before Slate awakens to study the big blonde's face. The last days have been full of worrisome thoughts and just plain worry, and naked relief is showing on her face. Shateishael's face is serenely happy when relaxed in sleep, his long bangs a tousled gold frame to it. His eyes open, bright ice blue focusing on Bella, and his face warms in lazy contentment... then, a second later, sharpening in concern. He rumbles quietly, "Bellisima? Wha's wrong?"

Bella chuckles and stretches just enough to kiss Slate's cheek, reaching up to touch his face, "Just thinking how happy I am that you and Rosie survived all that rigmarole."

Shateishael relaxes again, smiling as he gently closes his large hand around Bella's smaller one, and murmurs, "'Course we did. S'm'job, sweetheart." He's silent a moment, then grins lazily,

"Would that you could meet the sun and the wind with more of your skin and less of your raiment,
For the breath of life is in the sunlight and the hand of life is in the wind."

His grin gets even more mischievous as he quietly adds (in order to not wake Rosenstern), "Well... that 'n spoilin' pretty Brights is m'job..."

Bella smiles and rests her head against Slate's chest as he murmurs the verse. That simple little habit of his is one that has served to endear him to her over the years. She lets her hand rest over the center of his chest. At the comment about spoiling Brights, she looks up at him with a chuckle, "You mean by sending them mysterious packages?"

Shateishael doesn't mention his own worries about the mission, not wanting to spoil Bella's obvious relief in their safe return. Instead he chuckles, lightly stroking her hair and savoring the sheer sensual pleasure of her presence, "Is that how I'm s'pposeta do it? 'Kay, mental note: gotta send more!"

Bella very carefully climbs over Slate's body to sit on his stomach, smiling down at him with her hair tangling down over her shoulders, half-obscuring her face, voice soft, "Silly Seraph. You already do too much." She leans over just as carefully to kiss her lover's forehead.

Shateishael grins contentedly up at Bella, his large hands stroking slowly over her bare skin to gently cradle her hips. He's sturdily built enough that he's not discommoded at all by her sitting on him; he rather enjoys it, in fact. His eyes go half closed at the kiss, and he tilts his head up slightly towards her. As she's straightening, one hand gently brushes her hair back and he hesitates, studying her face, then rumbles slowly, "Bellisima... c'n I ask you... kinda personal question?"

The Bright sits back up, smiling down at Slate quietly, "Sure, hon." She rests her hands on his chest, just enjoying the feel of his skin under her hands.

Shateishael hesitates again, his ice-blue gaze shifting sideways as he considers how to ask... and then he notices the limply relaxed Rosenstern, still deeply asleep. He glances back at Bella with a rueful grin and whispers, "Le's go get cleaned up 'n let poor Rosie sleep, yeah?"

Bella covers her mouth with one hand and giggles very softly, murmuring back, "Probably a good idea..." Just as carefully as she climbed over Slate, she climbs off and slips out of the bed, not bothering with a robe.

Shateishael will sit up and slide carefully off the bed so it doesn't bounce or disturb the slight Mercurian. Unless Bella objects he then scoops her up in his arms, laughing in silent delight, his bright eyes dancing as he walks towards the bathroom with her held close against him. He closes first the bedroom door, then the bathroom door carefully after them. Once inside he grins, rumbling cheerfully, "How c'n I do too much when y'never let me do much, hmm?"

When she's scooped up, Bella grins broadly and helps herself be carried simply by wrapping her arms around Slate's neck and her legs around his waist, one hand stroking his nape. In answer to his question, she says, "That's a good question." She doesn't, however, answer it. Instead she leans close to kiss Slate. Shateishael's eyes widen slightly, but then he makes a small rumble of pleasure, meeting her lips with gentle enthusiasm. Standing still in the bathroom, holding her warmly and securely close, he closes his eyes and loses himself in the deep, complex joy of her presence and touch.

Despite the very pleasantly sensual time that was shared between the Bright, the Mercurian, and the Seraph just a few hours ago, the shower draws out as the lovers spend the time cleaning and enjoying one another. The bathing at times takes on almost a ritual tone, just in the care Bella takes helping Slate wash and very likely in the way Slate returns the favor. Once they're clean, Bella does slip into a terrycloth robe she brought with her when she was asked to housesit. Shateishael flips the towel he'd been using over one shoulder, then grins and gallantly opens the door for Bella, bowing with cheerful abandon to her, "Lady fair, after you!" Bella laughs and sashays out of the room, tipping her nose into the air in playful imitation of a socialite.

Shateishael chuckles rumblingly, following her out and casually tousling the ears of the yawning and stretching Rottie-mix waiting outside the door. Desty waggles happily, nuzzling Bella's hand, and trots after them. Slate murmurs with half-teasing thoughtfulness to Bella, "So... breakfast or package first, mm?"

The Bright turns to walk backward down the hallways, "Package first. I've been very, very good about not opening it."

Shateishael grins mischievously, padding quietly after Bella, "Y'sure? I know how much you like y'r mornin' coffee, after all!"

Bella stops and puts her hands on her hips, giving Slate a look. "Are you trying to make me pout at you?"

Shateishael tosses his head back, laughing delightedly, then grins and steps forward to give Bella a hug. He nuzzles her damp hair, still grinning, and murmurs, "'Kay, I'll be good now." He releases her, taking her hand and happily adding, "C'mon, sweetheart! Hope you like it." The Bright hugs back and just takes a deep breath, breathing in the scent of clean skin and morning air, and grins like a kid as she's led toward her present.

Shateishael steps into the room and closes the door behind them (mindful of potential squeals of happiness on other sleepy inhabitants of the house), then sweeps open the sliding glass door to the brightening morning. The room is well lit and spacious, with plenty of outlets and an overhead light. The big package rests in one corner, still in its protective wooden box -- it's almost chest high on Bella. Slate laughs, watching Desty bolt out to join in Thea's exuberant morning gallop... then he turns, his expression half wry, half excited, "G'wan then, sweetheart -- 's all yours!"

Bella pads over to the crate on bare feet, checking how to get it open. She eventually manages to get one of the panels off and peer inside. For a moment, she just stares at it, struck dumb by the gift. Then her hands go over her mouth and she turns to look at the Seraph, breath catching, "Oh, Slate..."

Shateishael shifts a bit worriedly, absently rubbing the back of his head, then glances sideways at her as he rumbles uncertainly, "Um... y'like it? S'th'right kind?"

Bella lowers her hands and she's smiling, even if there are tears shining in her eyes. She walks over and hugs the big Seraph as tightly as she can, face buried against his chest, voice muffled, "It's perfect."

Shateishael hugs her close in sudden relief, "Oh, good." He's silent a moment... then adds in a sudden rush, his voice rumbling in his chest, "I tried t'get th'same as th'one y'already got, but they din' carry it 'ny more so I hadta get th'next kind up, so, um..." he laughs a bit self-consciously, then rests his cheek against the top of her head, murmuring, "Glad y'like it, lover."

For a long moment, Bella hugs Slate, face against his chest, overwhelmed with her lover's thoughtfulness and the generosity of the gift. After a moment she raises her head and smiles up at him, "You are always doing everything you can to make sure I have whatever you think I might need, love."

Shateishael nods, smiling quietly as he watches Bella's face, "'Course, beautiful." He gently traces a finger along the side of her face, tucking a stray curl behind her ear, then rumbles quietly, "Want you t'be happy."

Tilting her head to the side, Bella's face goes thoughtful for a moment before she asks, "But what else do you want, Slate? You're always giving us all what we need or just what we want... what do you want?"

Shateishael will, if Bella lets him, draw her down to sit with him on the floor, so they can see both the kiln and the broad sweep of greenery and trees outside... then he smiles and rumbles, "Ah, tha's easy, lover. Want all th'folks I love 'n care 'bout t' be truly happy 'n safe. Want t'do my job well, 'n want David t'be proud of me. Maybe someday he'll want me as his Vassal." He's silent a moment, drawing a deep breath before he adds, "An' I want..." he hesitates, glancing at Bella for a second before frowning and considering a moment. Then he tries again, "It'd be nice... um... if you... jus' if you wanted, 'course... if you, um... lived here?" He watches Bella's expression carefully, with that same mix of concern and hopefulness -- then hastily adds, "That, uh, that was m'earlier question, beautiful -- was t'fin' out why y'lef', way back when? Wuz it sumpthin' I did? I could change, if I wuz annoyin'...?"

Bella lets herself drawn to the floor quite easily, face very serious as she listens. She chews on her lips and takes a deep breath, holding Slate's hand with one of her own, using her free hand to stroke his forearm as she thinks, "You want me to live here on the ranch?"

Shateishael blinks, then looks sheepish as his blurted out question sounds over Bella's. "Uhm, sorry 'bout that."

Bella shakes her head, leaning her head against Slate's shoulder, "No, no, love. You didn't annoy me."

Shateishael sighs, relaxing noticeably, "Oh, good. Always wondered 'bout that." He's silent a moment, just sitting and holding Bella, slightly surprised at the depth of relief he's feeling inside. He'd wondered for so long about why she'd left, trying to remember if he'd done anything rude or annoying... he almost feels lighter to finally know it wasn't him. Finally he rumbles carefully, "I... dunno how t'not trip th' Lilim geasa thing, so I been tryin' t'be real careful 'n not say anythin' that might cause you problems, sweetheart. But I figgered if'n I made sure when you were 'round ev'rythin' was nice, maybe you'd wanna come 'round more, 'n there wouldn' be no pressure 'r nuthin', y'know? So... jus' wanna make that clear -- don' wan' you t'feel you gotta do anythin' 'cause a' me, 'kay?"

The Bright's gaze wanders out over the vista shown by the open door. She laughs a bit wryly, "I left because I needed to figure out who I was, now that I was Eli's. And I needed time to think. You found me; you helped me." She takes a deep, deep breath, "I was falling in love with you. And that's a scary thing to happen to a Lilim, honey."

Shateishael tilts his head curiously at Bella, gently stroking her hair, "Wait, what? How come?"

Bella shrugs, smiling wryly as if even she knows what she's saying doesn't make much sense, "Because if you love someone, they've got part of you. They're inside your soul. You're not free any more... or that's what I thought then."

Shateishael is silent for several heartbeats, trying to wrap his head around this new concept... finally he rumbles slowly, "It's... against the Word a' Freedom?" He's silent a moment more, then puzzledly asks, "But... you said you'd been a sub sometimes, sweetheart. How could you've been a sub, 'n still be Free?"

Bella smiles, "Because it's very carefully negotiated. It's got an end. Love doesn't end like that. Love is placing yourself in someone's power in a very real way -- and there's no end to it. It just goes on." She laughs and shrugs, actually blushing slightly.

Shateishael rumbles thoughtfully, "Negotiated..." He's silent a moment, still gently stroking her back... then he grins, his eyes lighting up, "Okay! Lover, wanna negotiate?"

Bella laughs softly and smiles up at Slate. After a moment of looking thoughtful, she nods, "Yes. Let's negotiate."

Shateishael grins, stretching his legs out and hugging Bella -- he's delighted! "You got it, sweetheart. Tell me what we need ta do, 'kay?"

Bella chuckles quietly and wriggles a bit until she's sitting in Slate's lap facing him. It's quite reminiscent of how she was situated when he carried her from bedroom to bathroom, "It's just like any negotiation."

Shateishael beams at Bella, running his hands lightly along her shoulders and arms, "'Kay. Um... whatcha want, then? 'N whatcha 'fraid of, that y'wanna negotiate 'way?"

Bella rests her hands on Slate's shoulders, face serious, "I want my own room. You know I love both you and Rosie, but I need time to lock myself in my room and not be around people."

Shateishael nods and grins, almost glowing with excitement, "Already got one f'you if'n y'want, lover... 'n this one c'n be y'r workroom -- 'less y'want one out in th' barn? Got space there too."

The Bright smiles and shakes her head, "This is perfect for a workroom. Thank you." She kisses Slate's cheek, smiling, "Also..." She takes a deep breath, "There are going to be times I want to go away for a little while. Sometimes it's going to just be because I get itchy feet. Sometimes... well, you already know I'm not the monogamous sort."

Shateishael nods cheerfully, "Yup, already knew that, 'n y'r still welcome t'come 'long on th'summer routes I take t'sell swords, or t' take off on y'own if'n y'want!" He pauses, then adds a bit curiously, "This's all ole stuff, sweetheart. There anythin' new tha's worryin' ya?"

Bella smiles and strokes Slate's cheek, "How will you feel if I want to bring another lover home?" She doesn't sound particularly worried, and half of this has the sound of something she's saying just to have it said.

Shateishael thinks carefully for several moments, absently staring out at the brightening day... then rumbles, "Would like it if'n y'were careful not t'hurt Rosie's feelin's. Would like it if'n y'din' use m' room wi'out p'mission. Might be smart not t'bring home a demon if'n y'know Elly's gonna be 'roun'." He pauses, considering a bit more, then adds, "Tha's all I c'n think of right now, beautiful. Dunno if sumpthin' else'd trip me up, 'cause never done this kinda thin' b'fore. But if'n sump'in' does bother me, I'll talk it out wi'ya later, promise. That okay wi'you?"

Bella nods and smiles, "That works. And I want to try it for a year and a day first. Then after that, we'll see if I want to stay longer..." She grins widely, "I doubt I'll want to go."

Shateishael draws a slow, deep breath, his eyes shining... then rumbles carefully, "Um... c'd you wait here moment please, sweetheart?"

Bella wriggles her way out of Slate's lap and smiles, "Sure."

Shateishael rises fluidly, then beams down at her, "Be right back, 'kay?" He turns, takes a few running steps towards the outdoors, and shifts to Celestial form. The towel he'd had over his shoulder flutters to the ground like a startled moth as the Seraph shoots immaterially through the ceiling, wings flared and singing ecstatically!

Shateishael: a palpitating, wingéd snake, bright and cirque-couchant. A gordian shape of dazzling hue: vermilion-spotted, golden, green, and blue. Eyed like a peacock and all crimson barr'd; full of silver moons that, as it breathes, dissolve or brighter shine, or interwreathe their lustres -- so rainbow-sided!

Bella hugs her knees to her chest as she watches her lover fade from the world, smiling a little to herself.

Shateishael in Celestial form rockets straight upwards, wings whirling madly about it, the Symphony ringing with its joy... then slowly reaches apogee, allowing itself to slow and arc over into a long, stooping run back towards earth, its joyous Song streaming behind it like a rainbow banner. Far below, Aletheia starts, looking up intently... then shakes her mane into a gleeful mess, giving a delighted buck and squeal. A moment later she's galloping madly along, racing with the Seraph, their laughter mingling as much as their forms. The big mare doesn't know the exact reason why her stallion is so deliriously happy -- but at this moment she doesn't really care!

Shateishael and Aletheia whirl in a mad gallop/flight about the border of the property, and at some point she neighs excitedly in Comanche (her "native" human tongue), "What is it?!" The big Seraph's angelic response isn't intelligible to her, and she laughs whinnyingly again, shouting cheerfully, "Speak in words, Bear!" It takes a moment for the Celestial Seraph to register and translate in its head, but once the lead mare understands she blinks, tilting her head as she gallops... then whinnys back, "Well, finally! Why'd you wait so long to ask, you great thunder-hoof?!" She peels off to gallop towards the house, her tail still up and waving like a banner, and her muscles pumping, slowing enough to shout a cheerful, "Congrats! Welcome!" at Bella as she thunders by. Bella laughs delightedly at the celebration and the congratulations.

A few moments later (and several whirling, dancing, joyous flightings-about later as well), Shateishael manages to pull itself together enough to land and not practically burst with happiness... and he paces in towards the house again. In the morning sunlight his wind-tossed hair shines gold and his delight is still palpable; he walks in totally nude, panting slightly and grinning. "Um... 'kay, 'm better now!"

When the big angel reappears, Bella climbs to her feet and meets him with a tight hug, reaching up to tug him down by his hair for a kiss that she pours her whole being into for several long moments. Shateishael practically flows into her arms, almost incandescently happy to almost meld with her for as long as she'd like. He doesn't quite pick her up to hold her closer... but it's a near thing!

Some time later the Bright does gently disentangle herself, "Should we tell Rosie about this?"

Shateishael is still a little starry-eyed, slowly stroking one hand along her back, "Mmmokay, lover! Whatever y'want..."

Rosie shuffles out of his room at about that moment, rubbing sleep from his eyes. His flannel pajamas are a little mussed. "Evr'r't'ing okay?" he murmurs sleepily.

Bella just smiles and lets Slate explain. Shateishael beams at Rosie, still cuddling Bella close, his eyes shining with happiness. "Bella's willin' t'move in, Rosebud! That 'kay w'you?"

Rosenstern blinks and brightens, coming more awake. "Of course it is! Welcome to the ranch, Bella!"

Shateishael looks like he's only a deep breath away from bursting into Celestial Song again, as he holds out an arm to welcome Rosenstern into the hug as well. The little Mercurian moves to join the three in the tight hug, and Bella wraps an arm around Rosie warmly, stroking her hand over the small of his back. This feels like home, and though she's still got a little thrill of nerves about the decision, for now she just lets that go to soak up the warmth and welcome.

Shateishael rests his cheek against the top of Bella's head, holding both angels warm and close. Thea clops in, shaking her head excitedly, then slows... then smiles a horsy smile and curls her neck and head gently about the threesome. Slate's large hand strokes gently along Rosenstern's back as he sings softly to the three people he loves most on Earth,

"In your light I learn how to love.
In your beauty, how to make poems.
You dance inside my chest,
where no one sees you,
but sometimes I do,
and that sight becomes this art."

Even in the desert, fall eventually comes. The days had been slowly getting shorter, the sky purpling into twilight earlier every night. On the ranch, Rosie's carefully cultivated apple trees had begun giving up their first really ripe fruit of the season and there had been cider and apple pies aplenty. One early October evening, an unfamiliar car comes rattling down the driveway at the Circle-H, the deep green paintjob dulled by road dust and splashes of mud along the fenders. Though it looked somewhat like an SUV, there were bumper stickers plastered across it saying "Don't Hate Me Because I'm a Hybrid" and "We're not All Earth-Rapists."

Shateishael is behind the house, digging out an area for a new Jacuzzi for Bella. He tilts his head, hearing the car coming, and sticks the shovel into the dirt, rumbling to Thea, "Check'n see if'n it's anyone we needta get hinky 'bout, wouldja, beautiful?" He wipes his hands on his dirty jeans and steps out of the pit, pacing more slowly around the house than the big mare, as he wipes his face with his bandanna. Fall or not, it's still quite hot!

When Thea comes around the edge of the house, she spots a petite red-haired woman in the passenger cabin of the SUV. The shockingly red hair is pulled back in a ponytail from a pale, freckled face, and the eyes are hidden behind oversized green John Lennon shades as the driver peers at a dog-eared piece of paper, mouth moving as if she's reading something back to herself. Thea does a trot-by, tossing her head and with the dogs all barking excitedly around her and the car. She gets a good look at the woman as she does so. The driver glances up, smiling at Thea as if she recognizes her. She rolls down the window and calls out to the horse, "Are you Thea?" The woman is wearing a slightly loose tank top of chocolate brown fabric, and there's a necklace around her neck with a pendant that gleams golden in the mid-afternoon light.

Thea stops with a startled snort! -then paces forward at a slow walk, her head stretched out curiously, "I am Aletheia, yes. Who are you?" She raises her head to neigh loudly, "A tiny red mare who knows me, Bear of the Sun!" There's silence for a moment, then a delighted shout from behind the house, "Peony?!" A moment later Slate comes trotting swiftly around the house himself, a half eager, half hopeful look on his face.

The little redhead smiles and reaches her hand palm up out the window, letting the gorgeous mare get her scent, "My name's Peony. I'm a friend of Slate's." She chuckles, grinning, "Bella and Rosie, too, actually." The petite woman smells of clover and metal. She grins and waves through the windscreen as Slate appears around the corner of the house. She even does a decent job of not ogling the shirtless Seraph.

Thea blinks, her head going up even more at Slate's shout, her ears perked sharply... then she turns to Peony, an even more interested look on her face, "You're Peony? I'm so pleased you turned up finally; Bear -- all of them, really -- have told me so much about you!" She brushes her velvety nose gently against Peony's hand, getting her scent.

Peony holds her hand half-cupped for Thea to nuzzle into. She chuckles quietly, "Most of it good, I hope. I know Slate just about glows any time he mentions you." She half-turns in her seat and digs around in a small lunch-sized cooler, "I brought some carrots for you, actually... it's always good to get on the good side of your friends' families."

Shateishael laughs, shouldering in next to Thea and opening the SUV's door, "C'mon out, Miz Peony -- Bella'n Rosebud're gonna be thrilled t'have you here too!" He doesn't quite scoop her out of the car, but she does get an exuberant whirl-around kind of hug!

Peony, having gotten somewhat used to Slate's greetings, hangs on with arms and legs, laughing as she's whirled around. Her ponytail streams around. "I'll be thrilled to see them, too."

Thea remarks firmly, "What a nice young mare you brought home, Bear! Did you hear? She brought me carrots!"

The leprechaun grins at Thea when she can get around to face her, "Wish I could say I grew them myself, but I got them from a local organic co-op. They're so good."

Shateishael beams at Peony from about 3" away, having forgotten to put her down just yet. He laughs, glancing at Thea, "More carrots, gotcha!" then grins delightedly back at Peony, "Man, y'r a sight f'sore eyes, Miz Peony. Wuz jus' thinkin' diggin' wuz gettin' dull. Oh, heck -- th'others aren't here though. Um..." He thinks a moment, then nods firmly, "I c'n manage tea." He sniffs, then adds a touch guiltily, "Uh... an' a shower..." as he hastily sets her down.

Peony doesn't seem to be in a huge hurry to be set down, but she doesn't actually protest as she's put back on her feet, which are clad only in a pair of leather thong-style sandals. "Don't put yourself out. There's nothing wrong with fresh sweat." She leans into the SUV and digs out the bag of carrots. They're young, not yet thick enough to have gotten woody, and they still have the vibrant green tops attached. Thea leans in interestedly, watching and whuffling scents with pleasure. She doesn't quite rest her chin on Peony, but it's clear she shares Slate's touchingness... or perhaps he learned it from her. Peony grins and reaches up, scritching under Thea's forelock. "You're lovely. I like your ears." With her other hand, she offers a couple of the carrots.

Thea's eyes go half closed with pleasure at the scritching... but she's not so relaxed as to miss out on fresh young carrots. She murmurs, "Thank you!" and lips them up gently from Peony's hand, crunching them up with enjoyment. Slate watches silently, a quiet look of happiness on his face. When Thea's swallowed (and the loud crunching is concluded), he rumbles curiously, "So... howcum y'waited s'long t'come visit, Miz Peony?"

The little leprechaun grins at Slate and pushes her glasses halfway down her nose so he can see that her eyes are twinkling, "Wanted to give you time to miss me." She winks and laughs, "Plus, I had a massive commission to do the stained glass in some bigwig's house up in Chicago."

Shateishael smiles quietly down at the little leprechaun, rumbling, "Well, hope it went well then." He tilts his head, "C'mon t'th'house... we c'n have some tea 'n talk, if'n y'want?"

Peony nods, pushing her glasses back up over her eyes, "Sure! Let me just grab a couple of things." She leans back into the front seat and pulls out an oversized canvas messenger pack -- or perhaps it's just a normal sized pack and looks huge hung on Peony's frame.

Shateishael holds out a hand for it, "Lemme giveya hand?" Thea's still licking her lips as she turns to walk briskly towards the house, humming contentedly to herself. She pauses at the back door long enough to nudge it open, then wipe each hoof as she clops on in.

Peony laughs and lets Slate take the bag. It's not too heavy, but it clinks slightly as she hands it over, "Sure. It's just a change of clothes and a couple of presents."

Shateishael slings it easily over one shoulder and offers her his free arm, "S'cool. C'mon in." He grins shyly, adding, "Glad y'came."

She closes the door and slips her hand through the proffered elbow, laughing and shrugging, "I told you I'd come visit. Besides, I found myself sort of missing you."

Shateishael flushes with pleasure, "Really? Me too." He happily escorts Peony into the house, "Figger a bit a' sittin' 'n relaxin' t'get th'road outta y'r system, 'n then if'n y'want I c'n show ya th'ranch?"

Peony nods, kicking her shoes off without thinking about it once she's across the threshold, "Sounds like a good idea. Just not moving for a while would be nice."

Shateishael chuckles, "We c'n 'rrange that." He leads her into the living room, waving a hand, "Make y'self comfy, Miz Peony. Y'want y'r bag here, 'r in y'r room?"

Peony settles onto a couch, tucking her feet up and half beneath herself, "Down here. Can't give presents if they're in another room."

Shateishael grins, settling the bag next to Peony, "'Kay, although y'know y'din' hafta do that, yeah?" He straightens, adding, "Lemme start th'tea -- 'll be right back." He turns and heads for the kitchen, calling, "Thea? C'n you gimme-" and Thea's cheerful whinny from the kitchen, "Already there, Bear!" There's murmurings and the occasional clankings from the kitchen as a pretty tortoiseshell minces her way delicately over the couch to Peony, stepping carefully onto her lap and stretching to sniff carefully at the little leprechaun's face.

Peony smells a bit like cats already, at least two of them. She offers her palm to the kitty much the way she did to Thea, murmuring, "Well hello, fuzzy-butt." She looks around the living room, smiling to herself. It's a homey sort of a place. The fireplace has logs neatly laid for a fire, but they aren't lit currently. The few pieces of furniture tend more towards the 'well-loved' look -- overstuffed, comfortable, occasionally with that slightly chewed on look. The two dogs come trotting in, panting happily, and insist on slurping Peony several times to be sure she feels welcome! Peony doesn't seem to mind being slurped on; in fact, she actually laughs about it. There are copious scritches distributed to pups and the tortie in her lap. She's already feeling quite welcome.

By the time Slate walks carefully out of the kitchen, Thea clopping quietly behind him, the dogs have heaped themselves comfortably about Peony's feet and bag. Slate grins at the sight, setting a tray down with hot tea, a large bowl, and two mugs on it. Thea arranges herself neatly out of the walkway, watching Peony with pleased interest as Slate pours the tea, then sets things out for everyone. Once Peony has her mug, Slate relaxes at the other end of the sofa, stretching out his legs comfortably. He sips the tea, then rumbles, "So how wuz th'trip? Ev'rythin' go 'kay?"

Peony holds her mug between her hands, not yet actually drinking from it, "It was nice. I love road trips and this was one of those where you get to watch the country change around you."

Thea lowers her muzzle into the bowl, having a slow slurp, then carefully patting her nose against the towel the bowl's on, so she doesn't dribble everywhere. She licks her lips thoughtfully, then sighs with gusty pleasure. Slate nods quietly, "It's gorgeous 'roun' here, if'n y'can stomach th'heat." He falls silent, sipping his tea again and watching Peony. Thea flicks an ear at Slate, a faintly exasperated look crossing her face.

Peony nods, "The heat can sort of kick your ass, I know. My first couple of Burns I thought I'd melt and they'd find a freckled puddle somewhere on the playa."

Shateishael laughs! then grins, "Where d'y'ordinar'ly hang y'r hat, ma'am? Bit colder realm 'r somesuch?"

Peony chuckles, "My studio's in eastern North Carolina. The mountains around there remind me of home. Very green and rolling. Lot of hippies."

Shateishael laughs again, then rumbles amusedly, "Home wuz fulla hippies? Dang, girl... din' have that many a' 'em when I wuz passin' through!"

Peony laughs and shakes her head, eyes twinkling, "Well, they were sort of unwashed and painted blue. That's like hippies, only instead of painted blue, hippies are tattooed."

Shateishael grins lazily, his head tilting back and his gaze getting far away, "Oh, yeah... crazy fu- er, folks." He falls silent again, still smiling and thinking about the past... and Thea harrumphs softly, then turns to look at Peony, "So, how long can you stay? It takes us time to get Bear of the Sun moving in the direction we want, so the longer, the better." Slate's head jerks around to stare incredulously at Thea -- then he laughs, with a protesting, "Hey now! Be nice, Thea!"

Thea's gaze (and ears) flick to Slate, and she murmurs amusedly, "I am being nice. I'm not being as blunt as usual." Slate flushes a bit, then growls amusedly, "Shouldn' you be drinkin' y'r tea'r sump'in'?!" Thea grins, and has another long, careful slurp.

Peony shakes her head, still grinning, "You can say it. Crazy fuckers. They were. But they kept the Romans out for a while." She gives Thea a puzzled look, "What direction are you trying to move him in?"

Shateishael rumbles hastily, "Uh, so! Glad t'hear th'trip went fine!" Thea whickers amusedly. Slate adds firmly, "Thea c'n uh, c'n tell ya 'bout that later, if'n y'want."

Peony watches Slate do everything except actually blush and her face goes impish, "Why can't she tell me now?"

Shateishael grumpily mutters something into his tea, and Thea's grin, if anything, gets a bit wider... then she turns towards Peony, "My dear, would you care to walk with me and see your room? Some stallions are just... ahh... delicate." There's a world of amusement in her voice!

Peony looks intrigued and gently divests herself of the furry family members after giving each of them a final round of scritchings, "Sure." Watching Slate looking like he wants to sink into the couch is amusing, but her curiosity has her, "Let me get some things out of my bag." She pulls out three small parcels wrapped in brown paper and tied with brightly-colored twine, then slings her messenger bag over her shoulder, ready to follow Thea.

The big mare clops out of the room, pausing to gently lip at Slate's hair. He grins ruefully at her, letting one hand trail along her sleek side as she leaves. Thea adds over her shoulder, "This way!" She heads out of the living room through a hallway, opening one of several doors and clopping in. Like all the other rooms Peony's seen so far, this one is large, airy, comfortably furnished, and has a big sliding glass door to the outside. Thea pulls that door open, then glances over her shoulder, "Bathroom's right next door on the left. Bear of the Sun's room is two down on the right." She grins, adding, "Because of your scent around him, I'll tell you the same thing I tell every nice mare who's interested in him -- don't bother hinting. Doesn't work."

After a few minutes the back door opens and closes again, and Rosie wafts in (there's no other way to describe it) from the greenhouse and orchard, looking a bit mungy but happy. "We have guests?" he asks cheerfully.

Shateishael looks up and grins at Rosie, "Yeah! Guess who finally made it here? 'N tea's still hot, if'n y'want?"

Rosenstern pauses in the kitchen to wash his hands and some of the soil from himself. "Oh, tea? Lovely! Who made it? Ajax?

Shateishael says, "Uh, no, I did." He grins, adding, "No worries; Thea supervised, so I din' 'splode anythin' this time." He brightens, adding, "An' not Ajax -- Peony!""

Rosenstern blinks and brightens, "Oh, that's great! How was her trip? Where is she?"

Shateishael stretches out relaxedly along the couch, patting it to invite Rosenstern to sit if he wants. He rumbles amusedly, "She's currently in Thea's clutches... 'n far's I c'n tell, trip wuz fine?" Rosenstern laughs softly and settles down beside Slate on the couch, the tea mug in his hands. Shateishael puts an arm about the little Mercurian, relaxing and rumbling contentedly, "Glad she made it. Wuz startin' t'wonder if'n I'd 'ffended her 'r sump'in'."

Rosenstern laughs softly and snugs against Slate, smiling. "No, you hadn't. I'm sure of it.

Shateishael smiles quietly, turning his head to gently press his lips against Rosie's temple and murmur, "Thanks, lovely."

In the guest bedroom, Peony snorts and puts her bag down on the bed, going to the door and taking in her view. She grins at Thea and her head tilts in just such a way that the fact that her ears are pointed becomes apparent, "Oh, I already know that about him. After all, I propositioned him outright and still had to explain it to him."

Thea bobs her head in a nod, sighing in exasperated amusement, "Yes, he's like that." She considers, her head raised as she scents the outdoors, then muses thoughtfully, "Still... he has other things to recommend him. It does mean he's one of the most dedicated and true stallions I've ever met. I don't doubt for a moment he'd protect any of us with his life." She turns her head to face Peony and grins again, "So sometimes we're patient in getting him pointed in the direction we want him to run... he's worth the effort, I think." She tilts her head curiously as she regards Peony, adding, "I know why Rosenstern and Bella initially wanted to mate with him. Why do you want to?"

Peony looks curious, "Why did they? Want to be with him, I mean? I know he's sweet and he's honest and he's awfully easy on the eyes. Plus, I have a soft spot for men that work with metal."

Thea smiles, looking back outside, "You should probably ask them, actually -- I shouldn't tell their stories, and from what I've heard they'd be happy to." She flicks an ear back at Peony, adding amusedly, "Metal? Why's that?"

Peony perches on the edge of the bed, "I'm a leprechaun. We like shiny things."

Thea stretches out her head to curiously whuffle at Peony, murmuring, "A real Ethereal? Interesting. Your scent's not that divergent... I wonder if Rosie's correct, and you're all related? I've heard of what, er... whats'isname... whatever -- heard what he did. Sounded to me like he was on locoweed."

Peony smiles and shrugs, "I don't think anyone really knows much of we're related or not."

Thea nods slowly, her curiously pale blue eyes thoughtful... then she raises her head towards the inner room, "Rosenstern's returned from the greenhouse, if you'd care to rejoin them?"

Peony nods, smiling, "So I have your permission to court Slate?" she asks as she rises to go rejoin the Celestials.

Thea tosses her head, her forelock flipping back as she laughs, "Gracious, dear, of course you do!" She grins, adding mischievously, "I'll probably be nudging him towards you from behind as it is. He's a good stallion -- he needs mares and foals to keep him steady and focused."

Peony almost smirks, "I don't know about the foals thing."

Thea chuckles quietly, shifting out of Peony's way, "That'd be Rosenstern. Lovely young colt, isn't he?"

Peony nods, smiling, "The Flowerkin is a sweetling. Beautiful boy." Thea beams a bit proudly, nodding in agreement as she follows Peony back towards the living room. The leprechaun pads out to the living room again, almost silent on bare feet. She grins and speeds up a bit when she sees Rosenstern, "Rosie!"

Rosenstern perks up, smiling brightly and standing to give Peony a warm hug. "Peony! It's so good to see you again!" Shateishael glances over a bit trepidatiously -- he's always a bit unsure what precisely Thea says to the nice folks who come to visit, and he's not quite sure he wants to ask. He grins at Peony's reaction to Rosenstern.

Peony beams up at the Mercurian, being one of the few people that really has to look up into his face, "It's wonderful to see you, too!" She steps back enough to examine him, "You're all grubby. Was it fun?"

Shateishael chuckles rumblingly, listening. Rosenstern grins widely, and bobs his head. "Very much so, yes!

Peony laughs and kisses Rosie's cheek, going on tiptoe to do it, "Good!" She glances slyly at Slate and then looks back at Rosenstern, "So, why did you want to be Slate's lover?"

Shateishael gives Peony a startled look -- then his head turns to Thea, "Whut'ch'all talkin' 'bout?!" Then he waves a hand, grumpily growling, "Nah, nah... dumb question..." Thea grins, clopping over to have another slurp of tea.

Rosenstern blinks a bit at the sudden question, then purses his lips thoughtfully. "I'd been with him for years," he says, "And I trusted him with my life. And I liked the way he did things; the way he was. And he respected me for who I was. Some Stone Angels, they're a bit aloof when it comes to Flowers. Not him."

Shateishael rumbles a bit sheepishly, "Uh... wuz initially, Rosebud. Wuz 'bout ta thump ya in that p'rade we firs' met at..." He mumbles embarrassedly to his tea, "Thoughtcha wuza demon..." Peony sits down in the floor, grinning and listening as the two men talk.

Rosenstern smiles to Slate. "But you didn't stay that way. You adapt, and flow. Like smoldering lava... and just as hot as-- ahem, right, uhm... tea? "

Shateishael chuckles in spite of himself, his gaze affectionate, "Y'r real sweet, li'l flow'r."

The leprechaun laughs, watching Rosenstern try to recover from an overabundance of truthfulness. "Thank you for answering my question."

Rosenstern smiles to Peony, blushing, "You're welcome."

Shateishael grins ruefully at Peony, "'S 'n odd question t'ask...?"

Peony shrugs, still grinning and unconcerned, "I wanted to know. I asked."

Shateishael nods slowly, looking faintly puzzled, "Uh... 'kay. Got anythin' else y'were wond'rin' 'bout?"

Peony smiles and shakes her head, wiggling crimson-nailed toes, "Not that I want to make you answer in front of other people, no."

Shateishael tilts his head even more curiously, but doesn't push. Instead he glances between Thea and Rosie, rumbling, "Y'all got anythin' else y'think Miz Peony needs t'know 'bout, 'r should we take her f'th'tour?"

Rosenstern beams, "Oh, the tour sounds wonderful!"

Shateishael nods amiably, finishing off his tea and setting the mug on the low table, "Soun's good t'me then." He glances at the leprechaun, "Y'ready?"

Peony pops up to her feet, nodding, "Do I need shoes or can I run barefoot around here?"

Shateishael says, "Barefoot's fine, Miz Peony, 'n if'n y'get tired we c'n offer ya 'lift." He heads out, Thea clopping after him and trotting off, stretching her legs and happily tossing her head. Both dogs gallop exuberantly by a moment later.

Rosenstern grins merrily. "Considering how much I've come through here without shoes... and a lot of soil...."

Peony waits for Rosie and strolls with him, grinning, "I've never seen you grubby. It suits you."

Rosenstern laughs softly. "It happens, honest!"

Peony grins, "I can see that." She deliberately walks just a little bit slowly so that Thea and Slate gain some ground and leave her back far enough to have a moment of semi-privacy with Rosie, "I'm on your turf now, so I've got a couple of questions for you."

Rosenstern makes a quiet sound of curiosity, and nods. "Sure! Ask what you wish!"

Shateishael has shed his boots and is ruffling the ears of a big, purring, black and white tom while he waits for the other two. He grins relaxedly back at them over his shoulder, then goes back to crooning quietly to the blissful looking cat. Peony glances over toward Slate, "I think I know the answer to this, but I want to ask anyway. Are you comfortable with me trying to seduce your lover?"

Rosenstern's smile warms, and he nods, "I am, yes. I know you would not intentionally hurt him or anyone who cares about him, which is the only thing I would ask."

Peony smiles and leans her head over to bump Rosie's arm, "No, I don't want to hurt him and I'm not even sure I'm going to succeed. But it's polite to ask."

Rosenstern smiles and nods again. "Thank you for asking."

Peony squeezes Rosie's arm and speeds her pace a bit, catching up with the Seraph and the mare. Shateishael glances over and grins, "Ready?"

Peony grins, wiggling her toes against the warm earth, "And willing!"

Shateishael laughs! -then rambles about the 60+ acres of the ranch with Thea, Rosie, Peony, and occasional random animals bounding or trotting along. He obviously loves the land and the various creatures (whether two, four, or no-footed) which live there. Peony is proudly informed the ranch holds one of the last virgin pecan groves in the state, with oak, elm, and bois d'arc trees as well. Rosie's large, orderly, and well-maintained vegetable garden is pointed out on the southern side of the house, and two barn cats can be seen stalking and playing under the leaves of the larger vegetable plant frames.

The herb garden, the greenhouse, the forge, the barn are all noted, as well as the geese. Peony seems to genuinely be enjoying the tour, oohing and aahing in all the right places and occasionally slowing things down by playing and wrestling with the dogs or petting the random cats. Slate grins then, leading the group towards the forge, which has a large stone building abutting it, "C'mon... think Miz Peony'll like this..."

The forge faces east, so the rising sun floods the building. It's a small, three-sided, shed-like building, heavily shaded by a huge and ancient oak. The consecrated anvil is in the front, equipment and supplies storage down one side, and a large open fireplace in the back of the building. The mossy-stoned well which provides clear, cold spring water is on the other side of the front entrance from the oak, and there are several big chunks of wood set up in the shade to make places for loungers to chat and comfortably watch whatever Slate's doing -- as Slate happily explains, before leading folks into the next building.

In the forge's third wall is an open doorway, which leads into a long stone room. One of the long walls is covered with simple wooden display racks filled with finished swords of every style, tack, and culture, while mats are neatly rolled up by the other wall, ready for later use. There are no pews, and each of the narrow walls contains a window. The large eastern stained glass rose window floods the room with sunlight filtered through color, leaving a brilliantly glowing rainbow of roseate pattern on the floor. At the western end is a large stone outcropping, obviously being used as an altar. On the wall above the altar hangs a single long sheet of decorative Japanese calligraphy. A smaller stained-glass window high above that pours jewel-toned light over the altar when the sun is up. It's a simple stone holy place, but it's clearly not a Christian church.

Slate leads folks in, turning to see their faces as he rumbles, "Y'like it, Miz Peony?" Rosenstern follows along with the others, watching the interaction between Peony and Slate and grinning softly to himself.

Peony's eyes light up as she sees the glass. She's walking on the balls of her feet, carefully steering away from the blades, just from long habit. She reaches up toward the stained glass windows and sighs happily, "Oh, they're lovely..."

Shateishael beams with pleasure, leaning against a wall so Peony can take all the time she wants. "Ain't quite over th'bed, but thought y'might like it r'gardless." Rosenstern grins widely at the over-the-bed comment. Thea pokes her head inquiringly into the room, wondering what's keeping folks... then smiles at Peony's expression, and backs out quietly.

Peony laughs and looks over her shoulder at the angels, eyes shining with laughter, "I'll bet it lights up the floor gorgeously, though."

Shateishael smiles, nodding towards the jewel-lit architecture, "Usually. Bit 'a distraction durin' workouts, but tha's jus' good practice." Then he grins, straightening, "So... wanna see th'back forty 'r fifty?"

Peony looks up at the Rose window, squinting as she estimates the time, "Hmmm... tomorrow morning, maybe?"

Shateishael says, "Hm? Oh... y'tired? C'n offer ya 'ride if'n y'want?" Rosenstern tries really, really hard not to make any comment at Slate's offering Peony a ride. He manages to mostly succeed -- the rosy light coming in manages to disguise him holding in a laugh.

Peony takes a moment to concentrate on keeping her face straight before she manages to say, "Maybe later. I think I can walk back, though."

Shateishael looks a bit puzzled, but just nods, "'Kay. Sorry; din' realize how tired y'were, ma'am." He adds a bit sheepishly, "I tend t'get bit carried 'way 'bout th'land... kinda hobby a'mine." He leads the way back towards the house, adding, "Rosebud's a great cook, too!"

Rosenstern beams at the compliment. "I try," he says shyly. "I hope I can cook up something you like, Peony."

Shateishael grins at Rosenstern, gently ruffling his hair, "You do great, Rosie." He adds amusedly to Peony, "B'lieve me, y'don' wanna eat my cookin'!"

Peony chuckles quietly and grins at Rosenstern, "Just as long as it isn't haggis, we'll be fine."

Rosenstern smiles to Peony. "I don't blame you, really. They're pretty rough. But I promise, no haggis."

Shateishael paces into the house, then beams down at Peony, "So whatcha wanna do now? Y'need t'lie down 'n rest, 'r want sump'in' t'eat 'r drink 'r sump'in'?"

Peony chuckles quietly and stretches, "Rest. Maybe a little nap. I didn't get much sleep last night. I hate hotels."

Shateishael nods, "'Kay. If'n y'need anythin', jus' ask, yeah?" He hesitates, then steps forward and gives Peony a tight but gentle hug, "Thanks f'comin', Miz Peony."

Peony wraps her arms around Slate and hugs him back, resting her cheek against him with a smile and for a second just letting him hold her, "Thanks for not being flustered at me just showing up."

Shateishael chuckles quietly, "Now why'd we be flustered? We invited ya, ma'am. Um... did Thea show ya y'r room?"

Rosie can likely see Peony considering for a moment before she says, "She did. But could you show me again? The house is pretty big..."

Shateishael brightens, "Sure! This way..." He leads Peony off, and behind him Thea leans her head into the room and laughs silently. If Peony looks back, she gets a wink from the big mare. Rosenstern smiles quietly. He honestly likes Peony, and though he's not sure why he'd like to see Slate and Peony become involved, they like each other... and Slate, though he doesn't seem to show it, does seem to be attracted to her.

Thea murmurs quietly to Rosenstern, "I like her. I think you and Bella do too. I have to ask, though... over five hundred years and I only manage to hook him up with one good mare! And now the three of you are all interested in him." With dry amusement she whinnies softly, "What was I doing wrong?!"

Rosenstern laughs softly to Thea, gently hugging her. "I don't think it was anything you were doing wrong, Thea..."

Thea curves her neck and head about Rosenstern, returning the hug, and murmurs quietly, "I guess. I was beginning to despair of him ever finding a nice cuddle-herd though, before you and Bella came along."

Rosenstern smiles quietly, blushing -- though also a little sadly. "I think it was just a matter of Slate being ready."

Thea sighs softly, a warm gust down Rosenstern's back, "Maybe. I know he was brokenhearted for a very long time after he lost both Dancing Pony and his people of the time." She's silent a moment, then nickers firmly, "Still, that's the past, and things are looking up very well now!" She smiles, lightly lipping Rosenstern's hair in an affectionate caress, "So... shall we go make dinner, pretty colt?"

Elsewhere in the house, Shateishael holds the door open for Peony, adding, "Bathroom's right next t'this room, onna left. Thea said that'd be nicest f'ya -- that 'kay wi'you?" He picks up a cat off the bed -- it yawns and squeaks in quiet protest as he sets it gently outside and adds amusedly, "An' if'n th'dogs 'r cats get inna way, jus' nudge 'em outside, 'kay?"

Peony smiles and quietly closes the door, leaning back against it once the cat is outside, "I'm used to sleeping with cats piled in the bed with me. I'm not likely to put them outside." She studies Slate for a moment, looking for words.

Shateishael smiles, "'Kay. I like 'em too, but when y'got three cats 'n two dogs inna bed wi'ya, sometimes they c'n kinda crowd y'out." He pauses, studying Peony, then tilts his head curiously, "Sump'in'?"

Peony walks toward Slate, not being particularly seductive, just moving closer to him, "I'll shoo them out if they get to be too much. Or I'll just come and make you share your bed." She laughs and shakes her head, "Though I know you'd let me sleep beside you and not raise an inappropriate finger."

Shateishael looks curious, "A' course, if y'wanted." He looks around the room, then back at Peony, "Um... d'ya not like th'room? We have others, if'n y'prefer?"

Peony stops far enough away that she can look up at Slate without putting a crick in her neck, smiling, "I like the room, Slate. It's lovely. I just wanted to talk with you about something." She moves and perches on the corner of the bed, one foot tucked beneath herself, "Do you remember that first night we danced?"

Shateishael moves to sit unselfconsciously next to Peony in a relaxed half-lotus, "Sure." He grins, "Wuz a ver'nice dance, too." He adds curiously, "Whut didja wanna talk 'bout?"

Peony smiles and shifts to look at Slate, taking a deep breath, "Do you remember what we talked about while we were dancing?"

Shateishael thinks, frowning, "Um... durin' th'dance?" then adds, "Oh, yeah!" He looks a bit sheepish, "I, um, din' recanize ya as a leprechaun, 'n I asked whut kinda fae ya were."

Peony smiles, "I'm talking about when I asked if you wanted to share my bed, Slate. When what I meant was did you want to have sex with me."

Shateishael tilts his head in silent interest at Peony, then nods once, "I 'member now, yes'm." He grins a bit shyly, adding, "An' ya said y'liked m'voice." He thinks a bit more, then nods as memory starts to return, "Yeah... an' we talked 'bout th'oath in Soma's court, too, 'n tricksters."

Peony puts her hand on Slate's knee, still smiling, "I still like your voice, but I like a lot more about you, too. And I've enjoyed being your friend. But I think... no, I know that I'd like a little more than that."

Shateishael studies Peony interestedly and silently for several heartbeats. Then he blinks... then gets a dawning look of understanding, "Oh! Y'r askin' me 'gain?" He hesitates then, uncertainly checking her response.

The leprechaun laughs, leaning close and saying quietly, "I'd like to be your lover, Slate, yes. I'm asking you again." After a moment she adds, "I'm not just offering a tumble, though."

Shateishael rolls his eyes amusedly, "Dayum... good thing Rosie 'n Thea aren't here, 'r I think they'd likely kick me 'r sump'in'." He grins good-naturedly at Peony... then nods slowly at her following statement.

Peony smiles and takes her hand back, standing, "You can think about it. And just like before, I'm not going to be offended if you say no."

Shateishael hesitates, then rumbles carefully, "Um... ma'am, I never been lovers wi'a fae, so... 'm not sure how y'do it? 'N... I'm real flattered'n all, but... gotta talk t'Rosie 'n Bella first, please? Don' wanna hurt them."

The leprechaun smiles, "I've already talked with them. Bella practically threw me at you back at the Burn. Rosie gave his blessing. Thea too." She smiles impishly, "I'm learning how this is done."

Shateishael blinks, opening his mouth... then closing it, flushing... then rumbling amazedly, "They... wait, you... alla them?!" He shakes his head, looking a bit startled still, "Dayum... gotta work on noticin' stuff more, f'sure!"

Peony laughs, watching Slate go pink, "Yes, all of them." She glances over her shoulder at the door, "Speaking of which, we should probably go back so Thea and Rosenstern don't think I'm ravishing you this minute."

Shateishael gives a snort of laughter at that, although he doesn't move yet. He's still watching her with some amazement... finally he simply holds out one large, calloused hand to her. Peony lays her hand in Slate's, trying to keep her face serious, but it doesn't really sit well on her freckled features. Shateishael smiles, watching the small fae as he slowly draws Peony closer if she wants. The leprechaun lets herself be drawn in, eyes twinkling as the serious expression crumbles even further.

Shateishael will draw Peony into a gentle hug -- with her standing and him seated, they're at about eye level with each other. He brushes back an escaped strand of her scarlet hair and rumbles quietly, "Mi- er, Peony, ma'am, I... think it might be nice t'... t'spend some time t'gether... if'n y'don' mind not hurryin' too much? I... dunno if'n I'm much good at uh... whut're they called... quickies?" He hesitates, then adds, "An' if'n y'don' mind my askin', how didja manage wi'Ajax? Been wrackin' m'brains tryin' t'figger that'un out..." with amused exasperation he adds, "'N Bellisima jus' giggles when I ask her 'bout it!"

Peony wraps her arms around Slate's neck and laughs softly, "I wasn't wanting a quickie. I'm asking about being something more serious than a friend... and I certainly mean to take my time about it." She throws her head back and laughs so loudly that it's probably audible a couple of rooms away, "Ajax is very gifted at glamour. He can take on a human seeming... and when he didn't use glamour, he didn't use anything below the waist. He's got strong hands and a lovely, lovely mouth. And I've never been opposed to using my hands or my own mouth." She leans in and kisses Slate's forehead, murmuring, "We'll just have to see what works out between a Seraph and a leprechaun, hm?" Then she tips her head, eyes still twinkling as she looks down along Slate's body suggestively, "Are you afraid you're going to hurt me?"

Shateishael nods slowly, listening carefully and reflexively wrapping his arms warmly around Peony's slight frame. He nods his head at her second question, though, "Wuz sump'in' I wuz bit concerned 'bout, yes'm. I mean, I wuz taught sex wuz diff'rent than how I see it now'days, but still, y'know?"

Peony bites her bottom lip for a moment, letting her eyes show desire for a moment, "I don't think you'll hurt me. If we try..." She squirms a bit and crawls up into Slate's lap, snuggling against him enough that it's very close to the Tantric position the Seraph is familiar with from making love with Bella, "We might have to be careful and we might have to find... alternatives. But I would like to try."

Shateishael grins relaxedly, shifting to easily accommodate and support the slight leprechaun, "Okay. Long as y'r willin' t'be patient wi'me, 'm happy t'learn new things? 'R 'least try?"

Peony nods and leans in until she can almost kiss Slate, but not quite closing the distance, "That's all I can ask."

Shateishael smiles, leaning forward enough to rest his forehead against Peony's, "Thanks, pretty lady. I... this's goin' real fast f'me, 'm 'fraid. Never had s'many folks innerested in me b'fore... 's a li'l startlin'!"

Peony laughs quietly, "Thank goodness for pleasant surprises."

Shateishael laughs softly, "Guess so, yeah!"

After her first night at the Circle-H, Peony came awake just before dawn, as was her wont at her own home. Slipping out of bed, she put on her workout togs: a pair of comfortable jersey shorts and one of her many tank tops. Once she managed to tame her hair into a braid, she made her way out the sliding door and padded on bare feet through Rosie's gardens and toward the forge with its attached dojo. By the time she was getting close enough to hear Slate's hammer on the anvil, the sun had started to show itself over the horizon, painting the sky in scarlet and vermilion streaks.

Shateishael has set aside his hammer and leather apron to face the sun. Seen from outside the little building, he's silhouetted with lurid, glowing fire from his forge, arms outspread in welcome to the rising sun. Peony can hear him chanting musically,

"We number nothing that we spend for you:
Our duty is so rich, so infinite,
That we may do it still without accompt.
Vouchsafe to show the sunshine of your face,
That we, with reverence, may worship it."

His expression is rapt, watching the sun rise... then he smiles, letting his arms fall slowly to his sides. He turns... then notices Peony, and smiles again, "Mornin'."

The petite leprechaun pauses, smiling as she watches Slate greet the rising sun. It reminds her to take a moment and drink in the dawn. Her eyes are still closed and her face still facing toward the dawn when the Seraph speaks to her. She turns her grin on him, "Morning yourself. I thought I'd come use your dojo for some stretches and a little tumbling. If it's OK, that is?"

Shateishael nods relaxedly, still glowing a bit with pleasure at the sunrise, "Sure thin', ma'am. Dojo's f'ev'ryone who wantsta learn."

The sky is starting to shade into orange and gold as the sun gets higher into the sky. "I appreciate it." Peony stretches up on the balls of her feet and motions for the blonde to lean down toward her.

Shateishael looks curious as he obligingly does so, rumbling, "Sump'in'?"

Once he's leaned down far enough, Peony kisses Slate on the cheek and smiles, "Thank you for the hospitality." She grins and moves carefully through the forge -- very carefully, because the place is pretty much brimming with iron and steel -- and into the dojo/temple.

Shateishael looks a bit puzzled still, "Happy t' 'blige, Miz Peony." He follows her to the door of the dojo, watching and wondering if he missed something there.

Once in the dojo, Peony starts dragging out mats and unrolling them, making a cushioned surface for herself as she looks over at Slate, "Just Peony, please, Slate. Calling me Miss or Ms. makes me feel like you're being formal with me."

Shateishael pulls off his boots at the door, bows once towards the altar before entering, then goes to help Peony pull out mats, "Um, 'kay. Peony." He says the name carefully... then grins, glancing at her with a rolled up mat under each arm, "So... how come you smell more like violets'n peonies, ma- er, Peony?"

Peony stands back, watching Slate carry the mats she has to struggle with, just because of her diminutive size, "Because it's really hard to find peony essential oil. I put violet oil in my bathwater."

Shateishael laughs, easily rolling out the mats and nudging them together so there isn't any tripping space between them, "Gotcha! Have ya thought 'bout askin' th'Rosebud t'make some for ya?" He grins over his shoulder at her as he works, adding a bit shyly, "Rosebud 'n I planted some peonies 'n such las' year, right after Burnin' Man. Thoughtcha might like 'em."

Peony helps arrange the mats once they're out, smiling, "Mmm... somehow I don't think that's a coincidence, either." She wiggles her bare toes against the mats, "I can certainly talk to Rosie about the oil."

Shateishael rumbles, "Don' think what's a coincidence?"

Peony laughs, "I just realized you said you thought I'd like the flowers... I meant I didn't think it was a coincidence that you planted them after meeting me." The leprechaun is starting to stretch, touching her toes and arching her back to loosen the muscles up, "I like to do some stretching and flexibility stuff in the mornings. Loosens me up for the rest of the day."

Shateishael nods a bit puzzledly, "Yeah, we planted 'em cuz we liked you, ma-Peony. 'Zat... weird'r sump'in'?" He pauses, then adds, "Um... y'mind if'n I work out some too? C'n be careful 'n stay outta y'r way, if y'want?"

Peony grins up at Slate, palms flat on the floor still, "It's your dojo. I'll do my best to stay out of your way."

Shateishael smiles relaxedly, stepping out onto the mat and bowing once to the altar, then moving to a spot a short distance away from Peony, to give her all the room she needs, "'S fine." He puts his Thor's Hammer into a pocket of his jeands, then starts stretching out also, enjoying the pull and stretch of muscles which have been fairly steady-state by the anvil all night.

The Ethereal settles down onto her rump and starts stretching her legs, reaching for her toes and getting a little closer each time until she can wrap her hands around her feet and put her forehead almost on her legs. She's still chatting as she works, "I used to take yoga classes, but a lot of them just felt so pretentious... sad, really, because it's such a wonderful discipline."

Shateishael rumbles quietly, "Heard there're some good 'uns out there now, 'though 's not really m'thing... 'm more an aikido'r martial arts kinda guy, y'know?" He grins in quiet happiness, adding, "'R dance..."

Peony laughs quietly into her legs, "You're a wonderful dancer. Most men your size, grace isn't that important to them. They'd rather go for bulk."

Shateishael nods, "Yeah, seen that. Usually those're th'guys get cut down quick, though... so thought it'd be smart t'learn grace too." He adds a bit hopefully, "Um... so were ya thinkin' a'staying f'a bit? Like... maybe we c'd do some acrobatics lessons're sump'in' while you were here?"

Sitting back up, the leprechaun starts stretching to the sides, smiling, "I thought a couple-three weeks if you'll have me that long. I have a project I have to start after that if I plan to meet deadline on it."

Shateishael grins, his face lighting up, "Tha's a start, sure!" He adds hastily, "I mean, jus' if'n y'want, a' course."

Peony grins at Slate's endearing and very childlike enthusiasm. She stands up and then leans over, putting her palms flat on the ground and slowly lifting her lower body until she's in a handstand, "If you've been working on grace, acrobatics shouldn't be too hard."

Shateishael smiles quietly, watching the graceful leprechaun move, "Hope not. Aikido's 'lot more 'bout redirectin' energy than 'bout force, after all." He wonders curiously if he can do a handstand... he's never tried, after all.

Peony starts very carefully to walk on her hands, grinning, "How are your back and arm muscles?"

Shateishael tilts his head amusedly at Peony, trying to see her at least sideways, if not rightside up, "Um... 'm a blacksmith, ma'am."

Peony grins, "Yes, I know... it was a bad attempt at a joke." She very carefully lowers her feet back to the ground and stands back up, "Acrobatics requires your limbs to be very flexible and strong."

"Oh!" Shateishael looks a bit embarrassed, "Sorry. Um, 'kay." He rises, adding hopefully, "Wanna start teachin' me now?"

Peony bounces on the balls of her feet, "Sure... do you want to start with tumbling or try hand stands or what?"

Shateishael looks fascinated, "Um... whut'd you start with?"

Peony laughs, "I started when I was about knee-high to a grasshopper and I started with somersaults."

Shateishael grins, somehow seeing a tiny grasshopper Peony as perfectly normal. "'Kay, le's start wi'that, then?"

Peony walks to one end of the mats and kneels, leaning to one side to pat a spot not far from her, "Come over here and kneel... have you ever actually done somersaults?"

Shateishael follows Peony over, kneeling next to her and thinking, "Um... don' think so. Took some ferocious tumbles while I wuz learnin' t'ride, but they weren't d'lib'rate, y'know?" He grins ruefully.

Peony nods and laughs softly, "These are easy and they teach you how to let your body follow a motion. It's basically a tuck and roll..." She starts to lean forward and grins, "I'm going to try to do this slowly, but I've been doing it for a very long time, so it's hard for me to do it slowly..." Shateishael nods and watches intently. Moving as slowly as she can, the leprechaun tucks her chin in against her chest and uses that to lead the motion of the somersault. She lands with a bit of a thump, laughing at herself, "That's easier to do fast than slow... unlike most other things."

Shateishael grins and nods, "Yeah, I hear that." He tries it himself once he's seen it done. It's very much like an aikido roll, although less bouncy -- he has to concentrate to not automatically come up on his feet, in fact.

The next hour or so passes with Peony demonstrating and helping Slate with forward and backward somersaults, working with the Seraph to get to where the motion is almost automatic. She explains that the point is to make it an automatic, fluid motion. When they're both getting a bit dizzy from all the rolling and going head-over-heels, she sits down and starts stretching out her legs and back again, "Stretching is important. Makes sure you don't overstrain... but I'm sure you knew that."

Shateishael finds he's rather enjoying himself, despite the slight dizziness. He grins, nodding to Peony and stretching out himself as well. The martial arts have been good for him; Peony can see he's quite limber for a man of his size, and the somersaults come relatively quickly to him. Peony eventually ends up sitting tailor-fashion and just taking some slow, deep breaths, "You're nimble and you're quick. You're going to be great at this stuff."

Shateishael beams at Peony, "Thanks, ma- Peony!" He looks sheepish, then rumbles ruefully, "Sorry... hard t'break ole habits. But I figger'd this'd be good practice f'me, 'n maybe even help me be quicker inna fight, y'know?" He pauses, then asks a bit shyly, "Um... so, wuz wond'rin' whut you'd like t'do t'day, Peony?"

She thinks for a moment before answering, "Does Thea let anyone ride her? Are there other horses around? I was thinking it would be wonderful land to take a horseback ride on."

Shateishael hopes internally that at some point he can find something she really enjoys or wants or needs, that he can help her with. He feels slightly out of his depth sometimes with the diminutive leprechaun. At her query, however, he grins, "Oh, yeah! Bet she wouldn' mind -- I c'n ask 'er." He bounces lightly to his feet, adding, "D'y'mind if'n we put you up in front a'me?"

Peony laughs and looks way up at Slate, "I'd be fine with that. Honestly, it's been so long side I was astride a horse, I'm not sure I remember my horsemanship."

Shateishael holds a hand out for Peony, looking down at her with interest, "Have you ridden b'fore, then?"

Peony takes Slate's hand and lets him help her to her feet, grinning, "Oh, yes. Quite often once upon a time, but that was before they created the car. Motorcycles are almost as nice as horses, but I don't think I've got the muscle to handle one right."

Shateishael brightens, "Y' like bikes too? We c'd go ridin' on mine if'n y'wanted?"

Peony beams up at Slate, "Why am I completely unshocked that you have a bike? I'd love to, as long as you don't mind me clinging to you like a limpet and squealing a lot on the curves."

Shateishael lifts Peony lightly and easily to her feet, then grins, "'N worse comes t'worse, if'n Thea's busy, I c'n give ya 'lift-" he laughs then, tossing his head back, then grins delightedly at Peony, "Y'know I'm not gonna be able t'resist takin' y'ridin' now, yeah?"

Peony also laughs, "Every girl wants to be irresistible."

Shateishael laughs again, leaning towards Peony for a fraction of a second -- then catching himself and straightening, his gaze a mix of amused and thoughtful, "C'n I... ask ya kinda personal question, m- Peony?"

Peony was starting to look almost anticipatory until Slate caught himself; then she relaxed, grinning a bit at herself, "Please. If we're going to be friends or more, personal questions have to be allowed."

Shateishael nods, missing her expression as he takes a deep breath to brace himself for the asking, "'Kay. 'M useta bein' kinda um... too big f'comfort f'most folks, 'least up close. So... d'y'mind if I touch ya sometimes? 'N are there times I shouldn't, 'r anythin'?"

Peony rolls her eyes and steps close enough that the fronts of her legs are against Slate's -- just touching, not pressing -- and she tips her head back to look up at the big blond, "Slate, I have been actively putting myself in situations to be touched by you. If I minded you touching me, I wouldn't have asked you to bed me, and I wouldn't have crawled into your lap last night."

Shateishael looks a bit startled at Peony's frankness... then thinks about it a moment... then grins, leaning down to pick Peony carefully up. "Well, good! Been want'n' t'do this f'while now!" He holds the tiny leprechaun easily in one arm, taking a moment to carefully scoop her lovely long braid around into her lap... then grins at her, "Noticed y'weren' wild 'bout steel, 'n I know my shop better'n anyone -- so I c'n c'mbine two pleasures inta one this way!" He's already pacing swiftly through the dojo, pausing to turn and bow politely to the altar, then weaving his way with swift, familiar ease through the forge. Peony's never too near anything made of cold metal -- and then they're both outside, and Slate rumbles to Peony, "Gonna make 'loud noise, fair warnin', 'kay?"

The leprechaun laughs and just loops her arms around Slate's neck as he carries her outside, letting her head rest against his chest. She's noticed that he seems to like to carry people around, having witnessed him doing it with Rosie, "Mmm. I'm warned."

Shateishael nods, then puts two fingers to his mouth and inhales -- then coughs with laughter as a dry voice murmurs, "I'm right here, you know, Bear..." Thea walks over and whickers cheerfully, "Good morning, Peony! I couldn't help overhearing your request for a ride, and I was thinking a good morning gallop sounds lovely." She shakes her mane amusedly, adding, "If you don't mind, of course, Bear?"

Shateishael grins lazily at Thea, "Silly mare." He lifts Peony up, setting her carefully up on Thea's broad back, then taking a handful of mane and doing a swift, whirling leap to throw himself easily up behind her. He takes a moment to settle himself in place, then puts an arm around Peony, snugging her firmly close to him, "How'zat, Peony? Comfy? Don' worry, y'won' fall."

Peony settles herself on Thea's back and watches Slate mount, with an admiring smile, "I can tell you've been doing this a while." Once the Seraph is settled on the mare's back, Peony scoots herself back into his embrace, fitting her back against his chest and stomach, "I trust you both."

Shateishael smiles with quiet pleasure, although neither of the women can see it, and runs his free hand in a gentle stroke down Peony's side, along her thigh, to Thea's neck and shoulder. Thea chuckles, snorting calmly, "Quite right!" then tosses her head, "Yes indeed -- a glorious day for a run!" She shifts her gaits quickly to a gallop, although she's polite enough to start slow and in a straight line, so Peony can get a feel for balance on her first.

The little leprechaun actually shivers for a second as Slate's hand moves over her thigh, and then she catches herself, reaching forward to curl her fingers in Thea's mane, "A glorious day in general," she murmurs. When Thea moves through her paces, Peony shifts to let her body ride through them, hinting that she's fairly confident in her horsemanship.

Soon thereafter Thea's galloping madly along, head stretched out and snorting with excitement, bounding easily over hillocks and gullies. Slate is leaning forward, keeping both his and Peony's center of gravity close to Thea's, one strong arm securely about Peony and the other hand tangled firmly in the big mare's flying mane. Thea's exuberance is infectious -- Slate laughs aloud at her glee, and the two of them occasionally practically shout snippets of song together as they fly madly over the ranch's terrain. There is an ease to the two of them that hints at long association and partnership, and Peony may notice they've traversed the perimeter of the 60+ acres two or three times before Thea finally has to slow. She's still snorting with happy excitement -- but she's also cheerfully huffing and puffing, and her coat is dark with sweat.

Peony closes her eyes as the mare reaches full-out gallop, holding onto Thea's mane with one hand and doing her best to tug out the braid in her hair, letting it fly back behind her in the wind created by the joyful romp. She joins in the carefree laughter and just soaks up the obvious affection between man and mare. The leprechaun is panting a little herself once the pace slows back to a trot. Shateishael, however, is looking a bit flustered -- he's been wind-tangled up in violet-scented, extremely silky feeling scarlet hair, and it's... startlingly erotic to feel it trailing over his bare skin! He takes a deep breath, then rumbles, "Um, Thea, we need 'moment 'fore we dismount -- got tangled up in Mi- er, Peony's hair..." Thea gives a snort of laughter, still moving at a long-striding walk as she heads for the picturesque little pond, "Horrors, dear stallion! I'm sure Peony's as aghast as I."

Peony fits herself back against Slate again as Thea heads toward the pond, smiling quietly as she says, "I couldn't resist letting it get in the wind... should I leave it in a braid next time?" Her voice sounds both exultant and almost dreamy as she strokes the mare's neck, "I haven't had a ride like that since the last time I went with the hunt."

Shateishael has released Peony now they're walking -- he's quite sure the athletic little leprechaun can keep her balance at a walk -- and is carefully unwinding her hair from where it's tangled about him. He mumbles absently, "Uh, no, 's fine, jus' startled me, long's y'don' mind it gettin' bit sweaty 'gainst me... er, wait. Whut wuz that 'bout th'hunt?"

Peony shakes her head carefully, "There's nothing wrong with honest sweat. Besides, baths are easy to have. Especially with a pond right there." She chuckles softly at the question about the hunt, "I suppose it should really be The Hunt, capitalized. We used to have The Hunt twice a year -- once at Midwinter, once at Midsummer. We'd hunt the white stag through faerie and any other realm he could reach."

Shateishael looks a bit relieved -- for a moment he'd wondered if she meant the Wild Hunt. That would have been... unpleasant to be associated with, considering they hunted for human souls. He rumbles, "The Hunt? Huh..." His voice is a little wistful as he adds, "'S it true th'fae horses were all silver fog 'n sea foam, beribboned 'n caparisoned wi' silver bells on their tack?" He adds in explanation, "Always loved that description..."

Peony wriggles just a little with the sheer happy thought of the riding, "Oh, they were magnificent... not actual horses, of course. They're spirits of motion. It's like riding the wind."

Shateishael finishes untangling Peony's hair, although he can't resist letting it run through his fingers a bit. He rumbles quietly, "Soun's lovely, pretty lady." He continues stroking her hair for a moment, then adds, "Really like y'r hair, m- Peony." He sighs amusedly, adding, "Damn, this's a hard habit t'break; sorry. But I wuz 'bout t'say th'sunlight makes y'hair look like fire in m'han's... really lovely."

Thea snorts in gentle amusement at Slate's comment, then adds a bit wistfully herself, "I would have loved to have seen them too..." she grins, adding, "although if they're coming onto my territory they better be well behaved! Slate and I agreed long ago he can bring home all the folks he wants, but I choose who stays or not... and I don't put up with silly young stallions who don't have any manners!" She's silent a moment, just huffing slightly as her breath evens out, then adds thoughtfully, "I know there's a Song about Motion. I wonder if the fae horses were an embodiment of that perhaps?"

Peony doesn't seem inclined to move away from Slate's untangling and stroking of her hair, "Thank you, Slate. I have to admit, I'm a little vain of my hair. People keep telling me redheads shouldn't spend so much time out in the sun, but I love it, and I don't mind the freckles."

Shateishael was just leaning slightly to brush his cheek against a handful of the leprechaun's hair, and appreciatively inhale the delicate scent of Peony... he sounds a bit puzzled as he rumbles, "Whut's wrong with bein' out inna sun?"

Peony's hands are still moving absently over Thea's neck, stroking her coat almost lovingly. She chuckles and shrugs, "Bad for the skin. Of course, I can't actually say 'I'm immune to cancer.' It just makes me get more freckles and puts copper highlights in my hair."

Shateishael nods slowly, studying the shining swatch of Peony's hair he's got spilling over his hands, "Uh-huh... 's really beautiful, I think. Always try, when I'm workin' wi'copper'r brass, t'try t'capture that sheen... but 's really hard t'keep. Works best when it's heated, almos' glowin'... but I can't keep it that way, unfortunately."

Peony smiles and tips her head back so far that she's almost looking at Slate upside-down, voice teasing, "You want a lock of it?"

Shateishael blinks down at Peony... then grins slowly, stroking the back of one finger gently along Peony's cheek, "Like a token a' y'r favor? That'd be real sweet a' you, beautiful." He blinks, looking down at her leaning back against him, suddenly and strongly reminded of how his lovers lean against him... and his eyes get a bit smoky as his fingertips gently trail down her throat, between her small breasts... then he takes another deep breath, forcing himself to move his hand and look up as Thea unwittingly announces, "Here we are! One beautiful pond, ready for the swimming!" She strides into the pond, pausing when the water laps against her belly to stretch her head out and drink thirstily.

Peony goes very, very still as Slate caresses down her chest, even holding her breath. It's very much the way one would behave when trying not to spook a slightly shy animal, a stillness so intense that it's right at the edge of trembling. Thea's announcement makes her jump a bit and the freckles are joined by a very obvious blush, "I think... I think a dunk may be in order."

Shateishael rumbles a touch self-consciously, "Um, sorry 'bout that, m-darnit!" He rubs his face, then rumbles amusedly, "Okay, yeah, dunk -- good," and simply slides off Thea's back and underwater. Thea tilts her head in surprise, then sighs gustily, "Well, horsefeathers. I interrupted something, didn't I? I'll go graze a bit to give you both some time along, I think."

Peony takes a moment to wriggle out of her tank and shorts, craning around to throw them to the bank. She leans over Thea's neck and laughs, giving the beautiful mare a warm hug, "You don't have to go, sweet lady. I think your stallion is trying to behave himself." There's a definite sense of disappointment there. With that, the leprechaun slides off Alethia's back, using it almost like a slide to splash into the cool water of the pond.

Thea sighs amusedly, watching Peony, and whickers, "Yes, he's like that. Still... he has other things to recommend him!" She grins. A moment later the geese cackle with annoyance at Slate as he suddenly comes up amidst where they're swimming, and he grins and flips some water at them, then pushes his water-dark blonde hair back and grins at the other two, "Hey! Y'all comin' in 'r not?" Thea snorts amusedly again, and continues walking into the water until she has to swim, heading for the little isle in the middle of the pond. Her head stays above water, followed by a long, swirling wake that tumbles her mane behind her -- and then, a moment later, she's heaving herself up out of the water onto the little island. She shakes herself vigorously from nose to tail, spraying the annoyed geese again.

Peony bobs to the surface, just her head and shoulders breaking out of the water. With her hair slicked back against her head, the copper highlights are harder to see, but the delicate points of her ears are very obvious. A flip of her head sends the majority of her hair back over her back and shoulders. "Ooo... and island!"

Shateishael grins, "Yep -- put it in 'nitially f'th'symmetry a' it, but Thea'n th'geese really like it. Wanna go sit inna sun there, 'r under th'weepin' willow?"

The leprechaun beams and nods, "That is a wonderful idea." She bounces in the water enough to give herself the height to be able to half-dive. The motion is quick and fluid, the flashes of flesh it affords very quick before she's immersed completely again, swimming under the surface toward the island and its equine inhabitant.

Shateishael blinks startledly, watching -- did Peony really have no clothes on?! He shakes his head once, half amused and half ashamed of himself as he swims easily over to the island. Of course she has clothes on! He should be embarrassed to be thinking such things of the poor girl. He strides slowly through the thigh-deep pond near the island, absently wiping the water off his now-gleaming torso, and wringing it out of his hair. He looks around curiously, wondering where Peony is.

The leprechaun breaks the surface at the bank of the island, scrambling up onto dry land again and using her fingers to push her hair off her face, giving it a quick expert twist to wring out the excess water -- and it becomes very obvious that Slate's first thought was correct and the diminutive woman is bare except for her hair and her necklace. She's unselfconscious about her nudity as she plops down in the sun, tipping her head back so her face catches the sunlight.

Shateishael blinks, coming to an unwitting halt as he watches Peony swiftly move by him, his eyes a bit wide with surprise. He draws a slow breath, straightening... then is suddenly very relieved he's still wearing jeans! He moves up onto the little island and settles a polite arm's length distant from her, carefully watching Thea instead of the lovely, water-gleaming leprechaun.

Peony either doesn't notice the pause or pretends not to. She grins over at Slate, face bright with happiness, "This is fantastic." The leprechaun takes a moment to watch Slate, eyes twinkling as she realizes just how carefully he's not watching her. Being polite, she asks, "Should I got put my clothes back on? I didn't really think..." As the leprechaun speaks, she moves closer to Slate. Polite she may be, but she's also not stupid.

Shateishael has settled cross-legged, and at Peony's question he looks down at his hands resting in his lap, flushing a bit, "No'm, y'should wear whut'cher comfy in. I'm jus'... not real good at this, 'n 'm still learnin' whut's p'lite 'n whut's not. Sorry." Thea's casually grazed around to the other side of the big stone Japanese lantern.

Peony looks curious, scooting just a little closer, "What is it that you're new at? I know you have lovers and I know you know how to swim." She sits up on her knees to face Slate, crossing her arms casually over her chest so that she's almost decently covered, "And you don't have to apologize. I just need to know what's polite for you... you're a whole new ballgame as well."

Shateishael tilts his head thoughtfully, a wry grin crossing his face at the idea that he's at all hard to figure out, "Me? Huh. Guess I always thought a' m'self as pretty simple. Jus' a Seraph a' Stone, y'know?" He's silent a moment, thinking, then slowly answers the first question, "'M new at... whut'd y'call it? Courtin'? This's all real sudden t'me, y'know?" He frowns, staring out over the pond as he sorts things out in his head, then rumbles thoughtfully, "I jus'... guess I always had it easy, inna way. Always had sump'in' worthwhile t'offer t' m'lovers. They needed pr'tection, mostly, 'n that I'm good at. You... not s'sure whut it is I hafta offer you, y'know?" He adds a little wistfully, "I... like bein' useful t'm'frien's..."

Peony uncrosses her arms and smiles, "Believe me, you have protection to offer me as well, Slate." She knee-walks over and quite boldly settles herself into Slate's lap, "You are a force to be reckoned with. Your name is already becoming one to conjure with."

Shateishael stiffens, straightening startledly and leaning back a bit as Peony settles in his lap. Despite Peony's location, Slate keeps his hands carefully on the grass on each side of himself, and deliberately locks eyes with her. Hhe rumbles very carefully, "Ma'am, I..." He falls silent then, drawing an absolute blank on what to say! Finally he registers what Peony said, and rumbles confusedly, "Wait, what? Who's usin' m'name t'conjure with?!"

Peony reaches up and uses both hands to comb Slate's hair back off his face, "Not literally conjure. You've just garnered quite a reputation. Your wrestling match with the big boys; your sword... you're almost a legend already."

Shateishael draws a slow breath, still carefully keeping his ice-blue gaze on Peony's face -- so far, not too bad... he rumbles amusedly, "Peony, pretty lady, that kid's gonna grow up 'n be 'mazin' all on his own -- prolly better'n me, if'n he keeps up at this rate. 'N m'sword's a fine blade, but prolly nuthin' c'mpared t'whut Karl c'n craft." He tilts his head thoughtfully at the small leprechaun, rumbling curiously, "Whut'sa real reason folks're talkin' 'bout me? Jus' cuz I'm'n angel, 'r goin' wi'Bella 'n Rosie t'th' Win'er Court, 'r whut?"

Peony leans in to kiss Slate's forehead, as if she was brushing his hair back just for that, "It's your sword work, not the sword itself."

Shateishael mumbles, "Oh," then falls silent again. He has a panicky moment of wondering what to say -- then carefully focuses on sword work -- there was that night at the talent show, but that was it, really... he rumbles a touch amusedly, "Poor Gaelach. He sure is unpop'lar, I guess."

Peony smiles crookedly, "He's a blowhard braggart and an ass. He is not well-liked by those that can see through his inflated self-worth to what's really not there." She kisses the bridge of Slate's nose and then the tip of it, then pauses, "You know to say stop if you're uncomfortable, right?"

Shateishael's gaze breaks away abruptly at that comment, and he flushes, mumbling something. He coughs, then tries again, still a bit embarrassed looking, "Sorry. I jus'... not sure whut's comfy right now."

Peony rests her palm against Slate's face, still smiling, "I'm pushy. And you're still uncertain." She kisses Slate, if he stays still for it, almost chastely on the lips before she moves to get out of his lap.

Shateishael stays very still, drawing a slow breath once Peony's moved... then he looks away. He's still not sure precisely how he himself feels, but he is worried he's hurt Peony. He rumbles carefully, "Ma'am, I..." He falls silent again for several heartbeats... then looks back at Peony a touch unhappily, "I hope I din' hurt y'feelin's, Peony."

Peony is sitting tailor-fashion a couple of feet away, hands in her lap, "No, you didn't hurt my feelings, Slate. I was letting my emotions and my hormones run away with me." There's no hint of dishonesty there; the fae's voice gentle.

Shateishael nods slowly, not quite following but not sure he should ask -- it sounds personal. He tries to remember what they were talking about before... "Oh, yeah -- I 'member now. Y' mentioned wantin' pr'tection, yeah?" He hesitates, then adds almost shyly, "Wouldn' mind bein' helpful t'ya if'n y'wanted?"

Peony smiles, "You could be very helpful to me, actually... not even just by protecting me, either. I have a lot of clients who want steel used in their commissions."

Shateishael blinks interestedly, unwittingly brightening at the prospect of being able to help, "Really? I c'n help wi'that, sure. Whut kinda c'mmissions?" He blinks, realizing what Peony just said, then adds a touch worriedly, "Wait... whut wuz that 'bout you needin' pr'tection 'gain? Who's threatenin' you?"

Peony smiles, "I'll answer that last one first. No one's exactly threatening me, but I'm getting tired of Gaelach and his lackeys. They're persistent and, well, pushy -- which is why I was apologizing earlier. I don't want to seem like them."

Shateishael gives the leprechaun a startled look, "Peony, you're nuthin' like them far's I've seen!" He considers a moment, adding worriedly, "They still both'rin' ya, even after th'talent show?"

The leprechaun shrugs, "I can usually handle him quite easily when we're in public. He hates to be embarrassed. He's harder to duck when we're alone. And he still can't get the old class distinctions out of his head."

Shateishael looks puzzled, "Then why's he..." He falls silent, considering, then rumbles, "Oh. Got it, I think." His voice sounds disgruntled... almost warningly so. He's silent for a while, then looks back at Peony, his voice grimly thoughtful, "When're y' 'lone 'roun' him, sweetheart?"

Peony smiles and shrugs, "From time to time. You can't stay in crowds all the time. And he knows where my studio is, so I get to put up with his visits a couple of times a year."

Shateishael grins lazily at Peony, although it doesn't reach his eyes, "Really? He on any kinda schedule?"

Peony actually squirms a bit at that particular grin, flushing and silently telling herself, 'down girl' -- there is sometimes something about a very gentle person looking dangerous that is intriguing, "If he were on a schedule, I'd arrange to be away that day, no. It's not scheduled."

Shateishael nods slowly, still thinking... then gives Peony another glance, "So, um... he jus' drop in, 'r whut?"

Peony nods and chuckles, "Yeah. Usually on a day I have to be there all day for supervision and can't just leave."

Shateishael rumbles curiously, "How's he know?"

Peony laughs wryly and shrugs, "Damned if I know." Her hair is starting to dry a bit, some of the strands moving in the breezes that occasionally happen by. In something of an abrupt left turn, she asks, "Would it be pushy to put my head in your lap?"

Shateishael smiles quietly, "No, that'd be fine. D'y'mind m'askin' you 'bout this?"

Peony stretches out, resting her head on Slate's thigh and stretching her legs out, right down to wiggling her toes, "No, I don't mind. I wouldn't have mentioned it at all if I was uncomfortable answering questions."

Shateishael looks down at the slight leprechaun, then gently, almost reverently touches her shining hair with one large, calloused hand. He sighs quietly, wondering for a moment what such beautiful people like Peony and Bella and Rosie see in a big, sometimes clumsy Stone angel like him... he smiles a touch ruefully at himself then, and if she doesn't seem to mind he'll start gently stroking her hair as he rumbles, "I jus'... makes me angry t'see folks abusin' those weaker'n themselves. Wuz thinkin' mebbe I c'd hang out 'r sump'in' on those days, if'n y'wanted?" He pauses, adding hopefully, "I c'd be he'pful too, if'n y'wanted? I'm strong... wouldn't min' bein' useful as well...?"

Peony smiles up at Slate, making sure not to make any sudden movement that might be interpreted as a desire for the caressing to stop, "I could let you know next time I'll be stuck in the studio like that. And I'd love your help. I meant it about the clients wanting steel... I can't work with it. I lose jobs that way."

Shateishael nods, looking pleased, "I'd love t'he'p, sweetlin'. Y'got any jobs like that comin' up?" He thinks, then adds, "Um... where's th'studio, please?"

Peony smiles lopsidedly, "There's the catch. It's outside Asheville, North Carolina."

Shateishael looks puzzled, "Um... sorry? Why's that a catch, please?"

Peony smiles and shrugs, "It's a long way to travel."

Shateishael is silent a moment, gently stroking Peony's hair and thinking. Finally he says startledly, "Wait... y'don' have any other forms? This'n's th'on'y one y'have?"

Peony blinks, "Well, I have this..." She shimmers a little and changes only very, very slightly. Her pointed ears are now rounded, her teeth looking slightly different as well, making her smile a little less bright. "But it's just a different seeming."

Shateishael smiles, stroking Peony's hair gently, "Not quite whut I meant, love. Y'all don' have a... how t'put it... a non-C'poreal form, 'm thinkin', yeah?" He does a rough bit of math in his head, then rumbles thoughtfully, "'M faster C'poreal, so... that'd be, um... 'bout 120 hours atta dead run f'me. Guess I'd better use th'Tethers t'get there inna timely fashion."

Peony shrugs, smiling, "I change even more when I go back home..." She slowly fades back to her normal seeming. Her teeth actually look a little more pointed like this, but not frighteningly so, "My eyes are a little less human over there. More feline."

Shateishael nods, "Home's th' fae realms inna Marches?" He smiles a bit wistfully, "Would like t'see ya there sometime, if'n y' ever wanted th' comp'ny?"

Peony reaches up with one hand to rest it against Slate's chest, over where a human's heart would be, "I'd love your company there. Though it would be wisest to wait a while. I am less... restrained there. I would want to be sure I've known you long enough to behave properly."

Shateishael grins ruefully, flushing a bit and rubbing the back of his head as he looks away, "Uh, yeah... we kinda noticed th' 'ffect th' Garden has on folks..." He hastily adds, "So, uh, if'n y'sent me word, 'd be happy t'stop by y'r studio?"

Peony gets a very curious look at that, then grins, "You're sort of cute when you blush, Warrior." She says the title with affectionate teasing, adding, "I promise I'll call... how long will it take you to get there?"

Shateishael flushes a bit more at that, although he looks more amused at himself than not... then thoughtfully adds, "Peony... y'do realize if'n I see Gaelach pushin' himself on ya, 'm likely t'take a swing at 'im, yeah? Tha's 'kay wi'ya?"

Peony smirks a little, "I try to be a modern girl, Slate. I succeed most of the time, but there's still a little part way down deep that's sort of glad when someone else does my pushing for me. It's not that I want people fighting over me, but it's nice to have someone truly on your side." She shifts a little as she thinks how to clarify that, "I think I'm saying part of me would think it was sweet and part of me would be applauding someone knocking Gaelach out and another part of me would be saying 'You know, you could have handled that yourself.'"

Shateishael rumbles a bit embarrassedly, "Don' wanna get in y'r way, sweetheart...?"

Peony laughs at herself, "Slate, I'm saying I wouldn't mind. I'm getting tired of pushing him back and him thinking he can ignore it and come back because I'm just a leprechaun. Like I said before, you're a force to be reckoned with. He pushes you too hard and you can possibly push back hard enough to really hurt."

Shateishael takes a slow breath, pushing down the sudden anger the phrase 'just a leprechaun' gives him. A moment later he rumbles quietly, "Sweetheart, y'ain't jus' a leprechaun. Don' say that, even if it's jus' sump'in' y'heard Gaelach say, 'kay? Please?"

The leprechaun smiles slightly, "I promise, Slate." She smiles a little more widely, looking almost sheepish, "And this has nothing to do with all of that, but I would really like it if you would kiss me. Would you feel OK with that? It doesn't have to be anything else." She makes a cross-my-heart gesture across her chest.

Shateishael studies Peony for a long moment as he gently strokes her hair. His Resonance is telling him she's not telling the absolute truth -- but also that she doesn't even realize it. She's apparently tremendously flattered that someone actually wants to protect her. He finds that oddly sad... and he's glad Soma has dispensed with the archaic old hierarchies. A millennium and a half of being told you're "just" something is far, far too long, to his way of seeing it.

He blinks, suddenly wondering if the Light knew part of this -- that'd certainly explain, at least partially, why the Ethereal Holocaust wasn't stopped before it started! Ruefully he realizes that's something he can't ever tell the poor Ethereals, though -- it would sound horrible, as if he were telling them it was their own fault it happened, or that it was for their own good. Instead he rumbles quietly, "Pretty lady, 'd be happy t'give ya kiss if'n y'want." He leans to scoop her gently up in his arms, settling her comfortably in his lap, and slides one hand up to carefully tilt her face up towards his.

Peony isn't protesting at all at being scooped back into Slate's lap-- she's rather finding she enjoys being in his lap. The leprechaun is very careful not to press too tightly against the Seraph, trying to be as close as she can without actually being uncomfortably intimate about it. Her chin tips up, one hand going up to rest her palm against the side of Slate's face. She's also holding her breath just a little, back to her don't-spook-the-Seraph mode.

Shateishael leans his head down to gently brush his lips against Peony's, as careful himself about not spooking the tiny woman in his lap as she's being with him. He's not used to being treated quite so carefully, so it doesn't even occur to him that someone might do that! Instead, if she doesn't seem to mind, he'll try kissing with a bit more fervor... he's been doing his best to be polite, but there is a part of him quite well aware of how lovely her corporeal form is, and how brightly and beautifully her inner light shines.

Peony's hand slides up from Slate's face into his hair -- careful as her control is, it's actually not up to the reality of the kiss. Fervor is welcomed and more than welcomed -- reciprocated even. Shateishael draws a slow breath, then dips his head to press ever more closely to Peony. His arms twine warmly and strongly about the lithe little leprechaun, and his focus narrows dramatically as he fills his senses with her, tasting her gently, feeling her soft hair tumble over his hands and arms, her skin growing increasingly heated against his skin...

For a moment the leprechaun completely forgets about being careful and not pushing Slate's boundaries -- it's near impossible to be kissed with that much concentration and not respond to it. Her diminutive form fits against his drying chest and stomach, both hands going to tangle in Slate's mane of hair. Her tongue is a warm, wet little flicker against the Seraph's mouth before retreating. Shateishael inhales slowly, his eyes half closed with the sensuality of the moment... then follows her lead and gently traces the curve of her lips with his tongue. One hand has slid up to tangle in her shining, slightly damp hair; the other presses her close to him, supporting her as he reflexively starts to lie back on the grass.

Peony feels Slate starting to lay back, and manages to pull together enough self-control to break the kiss, mouth still almost touching Slate's, voice husky almost to the point of hoarseness, "Slate... if we make it to horizontal I'm going to get a lot more pushy."

Shateishael shivers once, trying to pull himself together enough to think clearly. His voice is rumbling a deeper tone than usual, "Uh... 'm sorry, Peony, y' want me t'stop?" He's momentarily confused -- he could have sworn she said she wanted to sleep with him...?

Peony shakes her head, still not pulling back, reaching with one hand to trail the tip of one finger along Slate's bottom lip, "No, I don't want you to stop. I want you to lay back with me and I want you inside me. I want to make love with you... but not if you're going to feel bad or uncomfortable about it."

Shateishael takes a deep breath, firmly reminding himself it's her decision if she wants to stop -- then nods, trying to listen carefully as she speaks... ah, okay. He takes another deep breath, checking his feelings to make sure things are okay in his head. He realizes something's changed in how he sees her now -- he can actually be useful to her now! It's a curiously heartening thing to know, even though he's not quite sure why it makes such a difference to him. His slightly distracted gaze focuses again on Peony, and he smiles slowly, "But 's okay if'n neither a' us feel bad'r uncomfortable, yeah?"

It takes her a moment to answer in any other way but an eager little nod, and her voice is even harder to hear, "Yes. If you're sure, yes. Not just yes... please." She wriggles her way around in Slate's lap until she's facing him, trying to kneel across his lap. Shateishael sighs with quiet happiness, lifting Peony to try to help her settle however it is she wants to be sitting. Peony is careful to keep her legs out of the way of Slate reclining on the island, hands resting on his shoulders as she moves in to kiss him again, eyes almost seeming to glow, "Is that a yes from you, too?"

Shateishael smiles lazily, letting himself finish slowly laying back and running his calloused hands gently along Peony's legs, sliding up to cradle her hips and rear as he rumbles happily, "Think so, yeah, sweetheart..." he grins, adding, "If'n y'not busy're nuthin' right now...?"

The leprechaun leans forward until she's resting on Slate's chest, legs astride his waist. Her skin is warm from the sun and her breathing is speeding up. The joke catches her off guard and she laughs, "No, but I will be in a few minutes. I hope." She has to push upward slightly, her diminutive stature making it necessary to reposition herself to be able to sink into another kiss. Despite the obvious heat in the kiss, she doesn't seem in a hurry. Shateishael chuckles quietly, stroking his hands slowly along Peony's sides and back and rear... his eyes go half closed again at the sheer pleasure of feeling her warm, soft skin pressed close, and he tilts his head a bit, reaching for another slow, sweet-tasting kiss. His arms slide about her again, holding her warmly close, and she can feel him heating up as he lets himself fall into arousal.

Peony makes soft, happy noises against Slate's mouth, sun-warmed skin tightening into goose bumps in the trail of the large hands that move along her body. Her still-damp hair falls around his face, enveloping them both in a cloud of violet-scented hair. The Ethereal has forgotten that she and the angel did have another companion, not realizing that Thea has been making it her business to be extremely unobtrusive. The big mare is standing utterly still, not even chewing... although there is a very pleased expression on her face! She shakes her head amusedly -- silly stallion, waiting so long when it's clear how much his pretty mares -- and colt, can't forget little Rosie -- want him. Still... Bear of the Sun is getting better, and that's what's really important. A few more minutes now, and she might be able to slip away through the pond. She's happy to wait.

It doesn't take long for Slate and Peony to be completely lost in one another, letting Thea slip off to give them privacy. The little leprechaun seems determined to make this last as long as possible, filling endless minutes with lingering caresses and lazy but needful teasing, reveling in Slate's willingness to do the same. The sweetly languid build-up ends with a very gentle, careful consummation, the leprechaun guiding the angel to assure him he won't injure her. With the afterglow wrapping them, Peony finds herself trying to drift off against Slate's side, giggling sleepily.

Shateishael is feeling rather wonderfully, exquisitely wrung out, both pleased and surprised at not having accidentally hurt his graceful little lover. He's tremendously happy he could help her feel so nice too... although at the giggling he blinks, then gives a lazily inquiring rumble? Peony blushes, actually blushes, and snuggles against Slate's side, slinging her leg loosely over his hip, "I just... giggle." She giggles again, kissing the front of the Seraph's shoulder. "And I was realizing that I keep wanting to sleep on you."

Shateishael reaches to carefully, easily shift the small woman up onto his front. He smiles lazily down at her again, not quite verbal yet, gently stroking one large hand from the top of her head, down the smooth curves of her back and rear, along her thigh... then sighs contentedly, the other arm curling about her to keep her comfortably braced. Peony nestles happily atop Slate, who sighs contentedly again, letting his own eyes close and just enjoying the feel of her lying trustingly against him. Despite telling herself very firmly that she should stay awake, Peony drifts off, one hand tucked beneath her cheek, hair spread across Slate's chest and shoulders as she sleeps, feeling utterly peaceful -- and most of all, safe.

Peony awakens at midday from the sun shining directly down on her. She's still lying across Slate, although curiously enough she's not uncomfortably hot... in fact, as she realizes that, she can feel something cool and damp trail down her back. The little leprechaun raises her head, blinking wide green eyes sleepily for a moment. It takes her a few seconds to orient herself, but when she does a cat-in-the-cream smile spreads across her face and she stretches head to toe. Then it occurs to her that she fell asleep atop Slate and not actually in the water.

Shateishael grins down at her, rumbling lazily, "Hey, beautiful. How y'feelin'?" He very carefully, gently brushes the back of one finger along her cheek, tucking a scarlet strand of hair behind one small ear. His ice blue gaze studies her face with quietly fascinated pleasure.

Peony raises her head and smiles at Slate, like a child who just received the most amazing, magical toy ever, "Mmm... deliciously achy."

A flash of worry crosses Slate's face, "Y'okay, sweetheart?"

Peony sits up, moving herself astride Slate's stomach, "I'm better than okay, Slate. Do you ever work really hard at something -- smithing or sparring or anything -- and when you're done your back and your shoulders and your legs and your arms ache, but it's also sort of this warm glow. You made something good or did something good and so the ache is just this wonderful reminder of this fantastic thing?"

"Oh, sure -- done that lots." Shateishael pauses, considering a moment... then grins shyly, "'Kay then." He hesitates, then looks away and rumbles even more quietly, "...thanks..." He gently runs his hands in a damp, cool caress along Peony's thighs where she's sitting astride him. There's a damp towel lying next to him -- that must be what's been keeping Peony cool.

Peony grins as the comprehension dawns on Slate, "Now imagine that that soreness is in a part of your body that, when you really concentrate on what made it sore, it sends a shiver up your spine... that's the kind achy I mean." She leans over, kissing the hollow of Slate's throat, then his chin and finally his lips, giggling a little at the tickle of his mustache. "What are you thanking me for? You're the one who got us a damp towel. Thank you."

Shateishael grins ruefully, his large hands continuing the caress by sliding slowly over Peony's rear, then up her back. "Um, well, ac'sh'ly that wuz Thea. I asked her t-mmph..." He loses track of his thoughts as he's kissed, returning it with quietly rumbling pleasure.

Peony arches again, unabashedly reveling in the simple sensuality of having her back stroked. She's still smiling, "You didn't tell me what you were thanking me for."

Shateishael blinks, trying to pull his thoughts together after starting to fall into sensuality again, "Uh... oh." He flushes, mumbling, "Uhm... nothing. Much. Er... well, yeah, ac'ch'ly..."

Peony sits up, looking for a moment like a kit fox or other sleek little creature whose attention has been grabbed, "Yeeees?" The way her nails slide over his skin may make it a bit difficult to stop the slide into sensuality.

Shateishael grunts a bit startledly, then draws in a slow breath as his large hands gently stroke across Peony's back again. His thoughts are rapidly scattering at her touch, "Mmm..."

Peony laughs and sits back, crossing her arms to resist the urge to continue teasing Slate at least for a moment, "OK, let me stop and ask that again. Why the thank you?"

Shateishael looks a bit startled when Peony sits back -- did he hurt her? -- then sighs amusedly as her query registers. He considers for a moment, trying to think of what she means... then grins in sudden mischief, tilting his head at her. His drawl is teasing, "I dunno, sweetlin'... do I get anythin' f'tellin' ya?"

Peony smiles back at him, "If you answer, you get two kisses. Anywhere you'd like them, any way you'd like them."

Shateishael chuckles, setting his hands behind Peony to catch her, then sitting up abruptly. The little leprechaun squeaks and lets herself wriggle into the grip of Slate's hands. He nuzzles her cheek gently, rumbling quietly, "Wuz jus' teasin', sweetlin'. 'N I wuz sayin' thanks..." He takes a breath, then firmly continues, "Wuz sayin' thanks both f'bein' patient wi'me... 'n f'helpin' me help ya feel good." He kisses her forehead gently, adding, "Keep th' kisses, 'n we c'n share 'em some rainy day, 'kay?"

She laughs and tries to lean in again to nibble across his collarbone with small, white teeth, "They'll earn interest if I keep them."

Shateishael laughs in quiet delight, "Oh, no?" He cheerfully wraps his arms around her, rolling suddenly to his feet, then grins shyly down at her again, "So, uh, gotta question f'you too, if'n y'don' mind... whut madeja wanna wait 'roun' on gettin' t'know me?" He doesn't quite have the chutzpah to ask what made the diminutive Ethereal fall in love with him, though.

She nestles against Slate's front, dragging her nails down the nape of his neck beneath the mane of his hair, "Because you're worth it, and I could tell that after knowing you for a very short time. You radiate your worthiness."

Shateishael's shoulders roll reflexively, his head tilting back with a growl of lazy pleasure at the leprechaun's touch... then he looks back down at her in his arms, and smiles slowly, "Thank you, Peony." He casually puts her up on his shoulders, then starts wading into the pond, heading for the far shore. As the water churns around his thighs he hesitates, then rumbles thoughtfully, "Hey, um... I don' wanna soun' arrogant 'r nuthin', but I jus' 'membered... din' Soma say sumpin' 'bout it bein' dang'rous f' 'thereals t'fall in love?"

Peony squeals again, delighted at being given a piggyback ride by the Celestial, tiny hands tangling in Slate's hair for balance, her legs hugging his neck very briefly as she gets herself settled. She smiles affectionately at the top of Slate's head, knowing he can't see it, "It can be, yes. We give away part of ourselves -- a literal part of our soul. If the beloved is harmed or killed it can be extremely dangerous."

Shateishael grins with almost embarrassed pleasure at the delighted squeal -- then tilts his head slightly, one large hand resting on one of Peony's thigh's to steady her -- well, maybe stroking just a little... "So Soma said y'all c'n take oaths that c'n stop that from happ'nin'. 'Zat sumpin', um..." he blushes, then mumbles a bit sheepishly, "Jus... don' wanna see ya get hurt'r nuthin'..."

Peony has to lean half-over Slate's head to stroke the line of his cheekbone, "I don't want to restrict myself. Love, real love, is worth the sacrifice and the risk."

Shateishael glances up at Peony, drawing in his breath in worry. He's silent while she touches his face, one big hand coming up to gently cup her tiny hand as he thinks... then he rumbles slowly, "Peony, if'n I wuz hearthfolk, wouldn't say nuthin'... but y'already know I'm a warrior first, yeah? Gonna come time 'gain when I get hurt. Might even get m'Corporeal vessel killed -- 'n whut'll happen t'ya then, if'n..." He falls silent, worried to the point that he's not even sure what to say... so he just keeps heading for the other shore, leaning into the swimming with long, powerful strokes when the bottom of the pond falls away from beneath his feet.

Peony holds onto Slate only close enough to let his movement propel her as well. She licks her lips and says quietly, "You said Vessel. Your... soul... it isn't bound into your physical body? It dies, your soul stays whole and you build a new body?" Shateishael just nods once, concentrating at that moment on not inhaling pond, and keeping his shoulders above water for her. Peony smiles softly and murmurs, "Then it might hurt, but it wouldn't kill me and I wouldn't be maimed in my soul. You would probably be the safest being in the world for a fae to love. The danger would be to you... but as I understand it, Celestials' souls can be rebuilt by their masters."

Shateishael rises up out of the water a few moments later, dripping and bracing Peony again with his hands. He shakes his head confusedly, rumbling, "Our Hearts are in Heaven, pretty lady. Our vessels die here, we get zapped up t'Heaven in front 'a our Heart. Usually takes 'bout a week 're so f'us t'c'mon back t'ourselves 'n get 'nother vessel from our S'periors. But... 'm not sure 'zactly whutcha mean yet, please. C'n y'feel injury 'r sumpin' t'y'r loved ones? C'n y'on'y love one, 'r whut?"

The leprechaun clings gently to Slate, very resistant to the idea of letting him go, "Mmm... a drastic, mind-affecting injury, yes. Something that feels like it hurts the core of your being. And no, we can love more than one, but it can increase the danger. Imagine a maiden loving three different knights, and they all get killed in battle? She would wither in a year."

Shateishael winces at that thought, pacing along the shore to casually flick up clothing into his hands. He tucks them under his arm, musing as he heads towards the house in a relaxed, long striding walk. Finally he rumbles slowly, "So... jus' gettin' cut'r sumpin', tha's fine? Wouldn't hurtcha if'n I burned m'self at th'forge, 'r got inna sword fight?" He continues to rest the other hand lightly as a brace on Peony's thigh... or perhaps he's just as resistant to the idea of letting her go just yet.

Peony seems unconcerned that Slate is carrying her clothes rather than returning them. "Nope. No more than it would hurt you if I soldered my fingers for the ten millionth time."

Shateishael sighs quietly, relaxing a bit... then rumbles thoughtfully, "How y'mean it hurts, then? Will I be able t'tell if'n y'r deeply wounded, 'n whut 'zactly does soul maimin' mean, please?"

Peony thinks for a second before replying, "Ever been injured so badly that the pain seems to eat away at you? All you can think is how much it hurts and won't it ever go away? A consuming hurt like that, I would feel because pain that deep touches every part of you, physical and not. And for soul maiming... imagine a cut that will not heal, somewhere that a slow leak would be OK for a while, but eventually you'd exsanguinate from it and die. That's what having your soul maimed is like. Your very essence can drain away, a drop at a time."

Shateishael rumbles bemusedly, "Bright Lady, girl... how d'y'all ever let each other outta y'all's sight?!"

Peony laughs and shrugs; the motion can be felt through her whole body, "How do you let Rosie out of your sight. I've seen you look at him. If he came to harm, you would grieve. It would wound you to lose him. There's just a slight difference to how we react to those wounds."

Shateishael growls worriedly, "But I know I c'n go t'Heaven 'n wait f'him t'heal, sweetheart, after I get rid a' whutever killed him. Same f'Bellisima." He draws a slow breath, curbing his sudden worried urge to lecture her sternly or tell her she needs to move someplace less dangerous or -- or something to keep her safe! Instead he strides along in grim silence through the thigh-high grass, forcing himself to shut the hell up -- he doesn't own her.

Peony continues smiling down at the top of Slate's head and then leans down again to whisper, "You'll know if it happens, Slate." Her smile shows in her voice, "The only way I think I would know with you was if you told me."

Shateishael rumbles grumpily, "Know whut?" He sighs then, berating himself for being rude, and adds, "Not sure whutcha referrin' to, pretty lady."

Peony wriggles her way down Slate's back so she can scamper around him and put her hands on his chest to stop his forward motion. She's smiling up at him, "You'd have to tell me you love me if you ever do."

Shateishael stops so he doesn't trample the little leprechaun, staring down at her in worried silence... then he sighs, dropping to one knee so they're closer to eye level with each other, and resting his big hands on the curve of her hips, "Sweetheart, whutcher sayin' scares me t'death. Don' wanna hurtcha, 'n don' wanna see y'hurt neither." He sighs again, pulling her into a tight hug if she'll let him. Then he sighs quietly, resting his head against hers, and rumbles unhappily, "Yeah, but I don' ordinarily wonder if'n I'm gonna accidentally kill 'em by linkin' up wi' 'em, lover." He sighs again, closing his eyes and making himself hush before he starts babbling worriedly at her again.

The leprechaun pushes herself back away from Slate, but keeps her hands on his skin, face serious, "Slate, would it be better if we just... didn't?"

Shateishael opens his mouth to indignantly tell her of course it would be better if they didn't! -and... can't quite do it. He gets a slightly confused look, thinking about that... he wants her safe, definitely! He doesn't want to hurt her -- also definite. He's silent for a long moment, thinking... then draws a slow breath of understanding, "Ah... got it. Gotta be y'r choice."

Peony realizes her question didn't come across the way she meant it, "I don't know if I really will have a choice. I don't want to make you worry over me, either. I'm asking if it would be best if I... if we... didn't get involved? Just take whatever time we've got right now and then let it go? Because I don't think I could stand to bind myself, and I already know it's not an if I fall in love, it'll be a when."

Shateishael absently ponders, lightly twisting a strand of her fiery hair about one finger... then he looks back at Peony, his ice-blue gaze grave, "Sweetheart, I don' wanna hurtcha. Not sure I'm th' great 'n worthy choice y'seem t'think I am... but cain't do y'r livin' for ya. So..." he sighs quietly, leaning to lightly kiss her shining hair where it's wound about his fingers, then rumbles slowly, "so... yeah. 'M not even sure it's a when f'me any more... but ain't gonna tell ya how t'live, Peony. If'n y'wanna walk 'way, won' stop ya... 'n if'n y'wanna stay, I'll... do m'best t'be here for ya." He feels like his heart is too big for his chest for a moment, from sheer worry for her... then he takes a deep breath and nods once, forcing a smile, "Whutcha wanna do, lover?"

He's watching Peony's face very steadily. His unwitting body language, though, is a bit less neutral... still on one knee, he's curled one arm almost protectively about her, almost shielding her with his body. His other hand is absently stroking her hair, the fingers slightly tangled in the shining strands.

Peony is still serious, but she can't help smiling at the feel of Slate's fingers in her hair, "No, you can't do my living for me. I can't do your living for you. But I think I would... I know I would like to live my life with you in it. And if things keep moving the way they are, Soma may one day be able to heal those soul wounds the way Oberon or Cernunos once could." The diminutive fae leans into the curve of his body, voice soft as she adds, "Thank you for being willing to let me go, but I don't want to be let go."

Shateishael draws a slow breath, still conflicted but suddenly very -- surprisingly! -- glowingly happy inside. He makes himself take another slow breath so he doesn't do something stupid and scary like grab at her... then smiles slowly and rumbles, "'Kay. Um... y'wanna 'nother hug?"

Peony chuckles quietly and tips her head to the side, "You really do always ask permission, don't you?" In answer to his question, she wraps her arms tightly around his body and hugs him.

Shateishael is having to remind himself to take deep, slow breaths, but the suddenly very visceral realization of the fragility of his little lover makes him extremely keenly aware of her... the warmth of her soft skin against his, the strength of her slight form, the light violet scent imbued in her flowing silky hair... he catches his breath, his eyes squeezed tightly closed for a moment as he feels emotion swell inside him again... then he whispers, "Sorry... y'din' gimme p'mission yet t'touch ya whenever I wanted, though... so... guess you'll tell me if'n y'want me t'stop, yeah?"

Peony's lips twitch as she tries not to laugh, delicate but strong hands sliding over Slate's shoulders and then down over his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles, "I plan on touching you every single chance I get. You're welcome to do the same."

Shateishael presses his face against the side of Peony's head, trying to press as much of himself to her as he can. His lips brush one pointed ear as he whispers,

"Lady, grant that I might seek rather to comfort,
than to be comforted
to understand, than to be understood
to love, than to be loved.
For it is by self forgetting that one finds.
It is by forgiving that one is forgiven.
It is by dying that one awakens to eternal life..."

Unless Peony objects, Slate will draw a slow line of kisses from her ear, along her jaw line to her lips... his arms are warm and strong about her slight form, his hands caressing and his kisses get hungrier as he tries to not think about her possibly getting hurt, and he'll try gently to draw her down to lie in the grass with him.

Peony closes her eyes, lips curving into a smile as the Seraph quotes the poem, tipping her head to the side with a sensuous little sigh as Slate starts kissing her ear, turning her head just enough to meet that first kiss to her lips. Her hands reach blindly, tangling in his hair and gripping it tightly as if afraid he's going to try to pull away, nearly-silent whimpers escaping against his mouth. When he starts to lie back into the grass, she comes close to swarming over his body in her eagerness to stay close.

Shateishael is trying to be careful and slow, like they were before, with his tiny new lover. Peony's sudden ravenous hunger startles him a bit, but he quickly responds, his own desire flaring up in return. When she feels her lover responding in kind, it simply stokes the diminutive woman's desire. There is a kind of passion that feeds on itself, and Peony seems to be doing her best to strip away Slate's careful control, perhaps wanting to see what the Seraph is like when he has let himself go completely.

Shateishael struggles on some level to maintain some modicum of self-control -- he's never really let go completely except in the crush of battle, and he's not exactly sure what might happen. Focusing on Peony instead of his reactions, however, gets easier as she clearly lets herself go as well... and at some point Slate's head is too full of her -- her rich scent; her soft, eager panting; the feel of her fingernails on his skin; the delicious softness of her slight body -- he can't remember why he was holding back when it's painfully clear how much they both want, both need each other -- and with a low growl he throws caution to the winds and pours himself into his tiny lover, heedless of anything but the heat consuming them both.

There is a core of wildness in the fae and that is what comes to the surface, drawing Slate's hunger out, Peony's body moving like some lithe little animal. Though the Celestial's sheer size and need is deliciously overwhelming, the leprechaun revels in his strength and ardor rather than trying to move away or escape. The heat and almost desperate joining of their bodies has the Ethereal's fingers digging into Slate's shoulders, clinging to him, sweat soaked bodies moving against one another with an unbearably sweet friction. At the blinding peak of sensation, she nearly howls, feeling like she might slip her skin and fly apart or simply slide through her lover's being.

Shateishael is not so much a wild thing in the core of his being as he is an irresistible force -- like the onslaught of a heaving earthquake, once he looses his normally-tightly-reined-in passion, there's no stopping that raging, almost brutal need. He feels wrung out after the fiercely demanding explosion of release, his breath slowing, his eyes a touch dazed... was that him? He has to recognize the ache in his arms before he remembers to release, to open his hands and relax.

Peony is again collapsed atop Slate, her hair spilling over both of them, sticking to sweat-damp skin as she pants. The expression on her pixyish face is somewhere between blissful satisfaction and amazement; the various aches in her body don't seem to be bothering her one bit. One hand is still tangled fiercely and almost possessively in Slate's mane of hair. Shateishael groans, low and rumbling in his chest. His eyes are half closed and he's slowly relaxing his tight muscles as they ache into his awareness while he catches his breath. He's not sure he hasn't left bruises on Peony... he sighs softly, half afraid to look, and tiredly, tentatively strokes one finger gently along her damp skin. His whisper is a bit hoarse, "Peony? Sweetheart, y'okay?"

Peony doesn't raise her head, but she does arch into the stroking like a cat who was just given the run of a creamery and is now lying sated in the sun. "Mmmm... m'fine..." Her fingers very, very slowly unclench from Slate's hair, but only so she can pet the side of his face softly but blindly.

Shateishael sighs softly again, this time in relief -- she's not upset or scared, good. He's silent a moment, thinking... then rumbles confusedly, "Whut th' hayull wuz that?! Ain't never had that happen b'fore!" He's still absently stroking Peony's skin with a hand now, the touch light and deeply satisfying on a visceral level to him.

Peony laughs softly and kisses the flat of Slate's chest, just beneath his collar bone, "Very, very nice... oh, stars and stones, that was... I needed that." She seems to be having a hard time staying coherent.

Shateishael smiles slowly, still a bit puzzled but faintly pleased Peony seems actually... happy about it? He wonders what she needed that he gave her... or did he? He sighs gustily, starting to lose his worry, and puts an arm behind his head so he can look down more easily at Peony lying sprawled relaxedly across him. His eyes warm with pleasure, studying her slight form, and he absently starts lightly brushing her hair to one side... he wants to check her for bruising, and... and just because it feels nice! [Nothing wrong with that], he thinks half-defiantly, half-amusedly to himself.

Peony's pale skin is showing a couple of marks that look like they could bruise, but she either hasn't noticed or doesn't care -- mostly they seem to be where Slate was holding onto her. Eventually she's able to push herself up to look up at the Seraph's face, "You seem worried..."

Shateishael runs his fingers slowly through Peony's hair, his eyes dreamy, and murmurs softly,

"O fleece, that down the neck waves to the nape!
O curls! O perfume nonchalant and rare!
O ecstasy! To fill the alcove shape
With memories that in these tresses sleep,
I would shake them like pennons in the air!"

He mms at Peony's question... then gets a faintly rueful look, "Well, yeah... never let go like that b'fore. Wuz 'fraid when I got back into my head that I'd really hurtcha 'r sumpin', sweetheart." Then he amends thoughtfully, "Durin' lovin', least'ways. Lost m'head in battle b'fore, but that's diff'rent."

Peony blinks slowly, "You've never..." She tips her head to the side, brow furrowing slightly, "You always hold back?"

Shateishael raises a wryly amused eyebrow at Peony, "Sweetheart, y'got any idea how strong I am?"

The Ethereal sits up, rump resting on Slate's stomach as she starts gathering her hair together, blinking, "I know you're at least as strong as Ajax and Karl."

Shateishael smiles and shrugs a touch diffidently underneath Peony, "Han't tried m'self 'gainst them... but I know th' Jotunsens 're 'bout strong as me?"

Peony blinks slightly and then chuckles wryly, "Oh... I see." She looks almost sheepish. Shateishael mms inquiringly at Peony? The fae wriggles slightly, "I was... trying to... wanting to see how hungry I could make you for me."

Shateishael chuckles rumblingly, then smiles up at Peony. His voice is genuinely curious, "Why?"

She shrugs, still smiling sheepishly, "Maybe to prove to myself that you really, truly, actually wanted me."

Shateishael looks a bit surprised, "Sweetheart, why din' ya jus' ask me?" He sighs quietly, his fingers trailing lightly around some of the marks on her body, and rumbles a touch unhappily, "I'd feel terrible if'n I accident'ly broke sumpin'..."

Peony smiles and wriggles slightly, "Because the body speaks what the heart wishes. The mouth speaks what the mind knows." She says it like it's a proverb, "I'd have let you know if you were hurting me. Or, well, hurting me too much."

Shateishael draws a slow breath, worry darkening his face for a moment... then he says carefully, "Peony, sweetheart... d'you know whut bein' a Seraph means? Y'know whut our Natures are?"

Peony looks sheepish again, "Yes. I know you can't speak untruth." She shrugs, smiling apologetically, "Also... I..." She shifts, then smiles as something occurs to her, "Rosenstern is your submissive, right?"

Shateishael rests a careful hand on Peony's thigh, "Hol' on, sweetheart. It's bit more'n that -- I won't even speak truth t'deceive. 'S why I got such problems talkin' t'Soma sometimes, 'n why I keep wantin' t'smack Gaelach -- th'moth fae likes deceivin' folks wi' apparent truth." He studies her for a moment, then rumbles, "Y'unnerstan', sweetheart?"

Peony nods quietly, "Basically, you are truth."

Shateishael sighs quietly, "Wish I wuz, but mostly it's bein' able t'hear th'Symphony real clear -- deception 'n lies're painful." He gives the little leprechaun a rueful smile, adding, "Next time y'wanna know sumpin' 'bout how I feel, jus' ask, please? 'Stead a' riskin' gettin' a broken arm 'r sumpin'?"

Peony smiles and leans over to kiss Slate very softly, "Yessir."

Shateishael looks sheepish, "'M sorry, Peony -- don' mean t'be a jerk t'ya... jus'... well, don' wanna be testin' m'strength t'destruction on m'lovers, y'know?"

Peony nods and smiles again, "You aren't being a jerk. You're being very sweet and I was acting a little insecure. Part of it, though..." She wriggles, "Rosie is your submissive, right? When you make love with him, you want him to forget himself and just feel good. Feel pleasure and love, right?"

Shateishael thinks about that a moment, then rumbles, "Um... yeah, but... well, ne'er mind. G'wan?"

Peony smiles, hands resting on Slate's chest, "I wanted you to not worry. I wanted you to lose yourself and just feel."

Shateishael is silent for a moment, considering that as he absently strokes his fingers lightly over the backs of Peony's hands... then nods slowly, "Think I get it... wuz a gift?"

Peony nods and smiles, "Yes. It was a gift." Her smile goes a little impish, "Not that I didn't get anything out of it. But it was a gift."

Shateishael smiles slowly, reaching one large hand up to gently cup the side of Peony's face, "Then thank you, sweetheart... 'n 'm glad you got sumpin' from it too." There's still a hint of worry in his eyes, but he shoves that back -- he's not going to mess up Peony's genuine attempt at a gift to him with his insecurities. He's still a bit perplexed as to how it happened, though.

Peony watches Slate's face, smiling softly, "If it worries you, though, we can figure out what not to do, maybe?"

Shateishael sighs thoughtfully, "Well... 'm li'l surprised it happened, 'n I wanna be sure I don' hurtcha, 'r whoever I'm with. But if'n y'really liked it..." he chews absently on his lower lip for a moment, then nods once, "If'n y'really enjoyed it, maybe I should try'n figger out how t'handle it -- f' you'n Bellisima t'enjoy." Thinking about it, he's actually tremendously surprised Peony's apparently undamaged -- he's been taught most of his life that the slighter person determines the speed and force of intercourse... and he's nervously aware he certainly didn't this time.

Peony seems to not actually be aware that she's petting Slate's chest like one would a nervous horse, "It was lovely... a bit rough, but lovely." She chews the inside of her cheek for a moment and ventures, "I will probably be extremely sore tomorrow and these..." she traces over the finger marks on her skin, "will probably bruise. You were following your body's pleasure... and that's powerful, but..." She squints her eyes, trying to reason this out.

Shateishael listens quietly, not letting himself stress. She's not upset, so he's not going to let himself get upset too... although he may turn up with liniment tomorrow! Peony wriggles again, not in a seductive way, but a thoughtful one, "I think if there had been any anger in it, you really could have hurt me."

Shateishael nods ruefully to Peony, his drawl quite apparent, "Ayup. Y'know anythin' 'bout Stone?"

Peony smiles, "Implacable. Safe. Strong. Earthy."

Shateishael chuckles, "Thank y'kindly, ma'am." His smile gets rueful as he adds, "Also not given t'strikin' first. Takes an actual attack t'get us t' 'ttack back. Now, I know this don' count as me 'ttackin' you, but it does make me feel li'l hinky inside... 's why I got kinda spooked 'bout maybe havin' hurtcha. Make sense?"

Peony tips her head thoughtfully, "So... maybe it was that I struck first, so to speak? I wasn't holding back, so you didn't?" She thinks on that a second.

Shateishael smiles quietly, "Dunno 'bout that, sweetheart. Jus' tryin' t' 'splain why I wuz li'l freaked 'bout lettin' everythin' go."

Peony nods, reaching for one of Slate's hands and turning it over so she can trace the lines of his palm, "You feel like you attacked me. Used your strength on me."

Shateishael sighs softly, "Well, if'n y'were upset I prolly would. Right now I'm jus' real relieved I din' scare ya 'r upsetcha."

Peony actually laughs softly, "Do I need a safeword to make you feel better?"

Shateishael lets his other hand stroke gently along Peony's thigh, to come to rest cupping her small rear. He watches her for a moment, then rumbles curiously, "Y'know, thassa good question... how'd that happen?" He tilts his head thoughtfully at Peony, considering that... then smiles and shakes his head, "Nah, don' think so. I trust ya t'tell me t'stop when y'really want me to, 'm thinkin' y'already know I would. Far's I unnerstan' it, a safeword's as much so's th'sub c'n cry out t'stop when they don' really mean it, as it is t'make 'em feel safe cuz they know th'dom'll stop at hearin' th'safeword." He thinks a moment more, then adds, "'Less you want one?"

Peony shifts so that her rear is settled more securely against Slate's hand, "I pushed you. You kissed me, I kissed you deeper. You touched me, I touched you with more need. It built." She smiles, "Sometimes sex is a challenge. Come get me. Catch me. Take me. F-...." She laughs, some of the mischief coming back into her eyes, "Find me." Her eyes light up as she hits on something, "A challenge. A hunt! You've hunted, right?"

Shateishael is looking a bit worried as Peony seems to be describing sex as a competition, but at her query he nods thoughtfully, relaxing, "Sure. Hadta, t'feed m'families."

Peony nods, speaking carefully as if she's feeling her way along, "No... I'm going wrong there. Sort of..." She takes a deep breath, "I gave you permission. Struck the first blow, in a way. I wasn't keeping any rein on myself. It touched that part of you that meets like with like, maybe."

Shateishael frowns thoughtfully, "Yeah, but... howcum nuthin' like that's ever happened b'fore? I mean, not like I had lotsa lovers, but... well... is it that rare t'let go c'mpletely, 'r 'm I jus' real inexperienced?"

Peony shrugs slightly, "I'm not sure why it's not really happened before. Maybe people are just as careful around you as you are around them."

Shateishael tilts his head curiously, "Y'think maybe? But why would Bella 'r Rosie do that?"

Peony smiles and shrugs, "You'd have to ask them. It's not in my nature to hold back."

Shateishael nods thoughtfully, "I will. That's kinda innerestin' thought." He grins ruefully at Peony, "This y'r way a' sayin' p'litely I c'n 'xpect that t'happen 'gain, pretty lady?"

Peony actually manages to look demure, despite being mother-naked and perched on Slate's stomach, "Only if you'd like it to. I can be careful if it's needful."

Shateishael chuckles quietly, then rumbles slowly, "Le's... see how y'are t'morra, 'kay? I wanna be sure y'r truly not damaged 'r nuthin' 'fore we try sumpin' like this 'gain, please?"

Peony leans over and kisses Slate's nose, saying solemnly, "If I am truly, badly hurt, I will let you know."

Shateishael sighs amusedly, tapping her nose lightly as she straightens, "Girl, ain't gonna wait f'that if'n y'r limpin' 'roun' 'r sportin' a rainbow a' bruises! 'N if'n y'think I'm bad, jus' try limpin' 'roun' Thea." He rolls his eyes amusedly.

Peony looks indignant, "But part of the fun of really good sex is walking funny!"

Shateishael raises an eyebrow at Peony, grinning, "News t'me, lover. T'me, walkin' funny's whutcha get when y'put a greenie up on horseback."

Peony snorts and shakes her head, looking amazed, "You're telling me neither you nor your lovers ever got those achy-thigh mornings after?"

Shateishael looks a bit puzzled... then chuckles again, putting one hand on Peony's rump, the other supporting her back, and rolls smoothly to his feet, "'Kay, now I'm gettin' real curious -- le's go ask!" He looks around, then waves an arm, "Hey, Thea! C'n we have a lift?" then quickly scoops up clothing again as the big mare walks on over, her head bobbing with interest. She snuffles curiously at Peony and Slate, then whickers, "You both okay? That was... quite dramatic, earlier!"

Peony looks very obviously fake-repentant. Thea snorts amusedly, nudging Peony with her soft nose, "I'll take that as a yes, then, silly mare!" Slate chuckles, setting Peony on Thea's back, then swinging up easily behind her, "Still bit s'prised 'bout it m'self, pretty lady... but figger'd be innerestin' t'ask Bella 'n Rosie if'n they hol' back 'r not, 'n if'n they like walkin' funny." Thea gives Slate a faintly incredulous look over her shoulder, then just shakes her head, muttering, "Stallions!" under her breath as she canters easily to the house.

[Previous Log] [Index] [Next Log]

Last modified: 2006-Aug-27 20:09:50

All material on this site is
Copyright © 2006-2024 Reality Fault
unless specifically indicated on each document.
All Rights Reserved.
Administrated by Reality Fault Webmaster