If anyone tried to tell him he could be tender or gentle, Vicious would scoff and then punch them in the face. After the fiasco that had resulted from his love affair with Xanthorra's sister, a love affair that had pretty much ruined his entire life, he'd refused to see women as anything but temporary bedmates to be used and thrown away when he was bored with them or it was time to move on to the next hellhole dimension. The irony was that deep down, he'd always dreamed of finding a good woman, settling down and having a couple dozen kids. Deep down, kept hidden under layers and layers of muscle and training, was a
romantic. One Vicious liked to pretend didn't exist.
He'd thought that romantic part of him had died after Aurorra. In retrospect they obviously weren't meant for one another anyway. He'd convinced himself she was kind and soft and nurturing when buried inside her was a passionate warrior princess just begging to be released. He'd probably even known that about her all those centuries ago but he was young and reckless and determined to have her. The threat of her father finding out had probably made her all that much more alluring, come to think, although she hadn't needed all that much help. Comparing then with now, knowing how she'd firmed up both physically and emotionally, he wondered if they hadn't been meant to be friends more than lovers, and as he sat there before the fire wrapped around Dora, the glow of the flames and the scent of jasmine combining with his sleepiness to make him feel way more mellow than he usually did, he wondered if maybe they could be friends now. Even if she did know all his buttons and when to push. Seeing her again... He'd gotten a kick out of their verbal sparring, the kind of kick he'd felt on the battlefield as little more than a kid, that the hadn't felt in centuries because whatever fights he'd gotten into had utterly lacked passion.
But seeing Aurorra again had made him realise some things he probably wouldn't have realised otherwise. Like the fact that back then, he'd fancied himself in love with a gentle, caring girl... and now, here in his arms, was the genuine article.
Dora... was everything he'd imagined Aurorra to be back then. There was steel at her core but it was surrounded by layers of kindness. Even knowing he was a danger to her, she'd put Xanthorra's life above her own. He'd seen her try to help a guy who'd leered at her like she was a piece of meat.
He wasn't a mindreader like the upper levels but he'd known right away what Dora was. And he was very much afraid that he was falling for her. Hard.
As she leaned back against his chest, V lifted a hand to trail it up and down her arm, literally marvelling. He didn't just see the beauty on the surface. He wasn't going to lie, especially not to himself, to say that she could look like a warthog and he'd still feel this way. Her being a Nymph, being so hot, censored, it helped. But as hot as she was, as good as she smelled... it didn't mean squat in the end. He'd have bedded her and tossed her out on her ear just like always... except he'd seen the beauty on the inside too.
"I know something you should be doing," he told her, his voice wicked and suggestive. All he really wanted to do was sit here with her in his arms, sheltering her from whatever had put that look on her face and that tone in her voice. Someone like Nymphadora shouldn't ever be sad, it was a crime against nature. She should be dancing through the forest or around his quarters, laughing happily. Preferably naked for his viewing pleasure.
Pressing his cheek into her palm, V's eyes near closed, bare slits as he studied her face. He didn't know what she was about to say but part of him was glad she didn't get to say it. Whatever this was, it was moving too fast. Way too fast.
Her gasp made him jerk, the pain of it so clear as she bent over it. Vicious stared at her rather dumbly with no clue how to react. He was a god. Mortals to him were weaklings put in his path to censored him off, not creatures to fret over. Dora, though... He knew she was more than a mere mortal but he had no idea how far Xanth had gone or what could hurt the Nymph.
"Inimicus? That better be some kind of pet, woman, or so help me I'll censored slice him from gut to throat." He couldn't help it. He was possessive, just as most of his kind were. As long as she was sharing his bed, he'd better be the only male touching her but the panic in her voice made him almost berserk with jealousy. His eyes were suddenly glowing, his hair literally on fire as his wings and tats burst into full view. He followed her up onto his feet, a low growl rising from his throat as she told him to go with her.
"You're censored straight I'm coming with you. censored." The insult was aimed at Inimicus, whoever the censored was, but his heated gaze didn't leave Dora's. Reaching out to grab her around the waist and yank her against him, he manifested his sword in the other hand, his swordbelt and boots appearing with it. censored, it was good to be a god sometimes.
"Let's go, woman."
Aethereality † Piper's Boutique