Dragon (S)layers: ThePaladin Gambit

"Hm?"

"Nothing-- I..." Leslie sighed. "I've never been happier, and that scares the hell out of me."

"Why?" The two immortals asked at once.

"I'm scared someone's going to take it away from me again...Or I'm going to take it from someone else."

Isira nuzzled against her cheek, kissed her ear. "Never. Not intentionally, you won't."

"But-- but." She looked to Aee. "But why do we need the gods to make us happy, huh? Do we? I mean, if Elisandra came to you right now, would you be any happier than you are now?"

"Sometimes," he said simply. "The wrapping isn't what makes the gift." Slowly he turned his head to nuzzle into her thigh, watching her out of the corner of his vision. "Maybe you're asking yourself the wrong questions, maybe you need another perspective."

"But that's boring!" Isira chuckled playfully. "Sometimes the gift is looking you right in the face, sometimes it doesn't even have a face." She planted Her lips to Leslie's throat once more causing the older woman to sigh out.

Maybe She was right.

Yes, that sounded right. The gift she'd been given was still being built, it came moment by moment with every choice she made and while she didn't know what final form it would take, she was starting to see how things were shaping up...

She smiled to herself, brushing Aee's hair back with her nails. The future was bright with Isira beside her, but it was blinding when she was in control of it. "Is that offer still available?"

"Mrrr? Which one?" Aee sat up a little, curious and attentive.

"You promised to answer any question I had--"

He groaned. "The recipe? Of all things, you would ask me for--"

"No. No, I thought it over. I know what I want now..." There was no hesitation in her voice this time. No doubt or fear. This was right. "Ready? Okay, I want you to tell me what the answer to that riddle is. The one you asked me."

"Well, if you insist. The answer is E." He said in a flippant tone as he sat fully upright.

When nothing immediately happened Leslie tried to keep herself calm. Could she have screwed up somehow? Was the magic in it maligned? Had she somehow failed to make it work? "E? As in the letter?"

"Yes! Think of it: it was around for eternity, it's always in queen, never in kings and spelling joker, you'll get it there too!"

"E."

"E!"

Leslie tensed, but then she remembered what Isira had said earlier. "So your name is E?"

"Close!"

Isira giggled in her ear, uproariously tittering at Her paladin's failure. Of course She knew there were other ways of getting the word from his lips, but the idea...Leslie blushed and glanced away. It wasn't exactly unappealing, but something about it seemed vulgar-- the idea of a mortal and a divine creature...

"Wait, so..." She leaned in so they were almost nose to nose. His eyes never left hers even as she shamelessly drank in his visage. She used her best sultry purr, reaching for his chin. "What voice should I be moaning in your ear, hm?"

He shivered. "Tempting vixen though you are, your words will only take you so far--"

Leslie kissed him. Deeply and without reservation. He drew back and she pushed forward, further and further. He started to arch back to keep from falling flat and still she pushed until she was practically crawling over him. His massive paw touched her shoulder to halt her but there was no stopping a determined paladin; Leslie knew what was expected of her and she reveled in it.

She broke the kiss panting humid air into his sensitive ears. "Tell me...Tell me what name I want falling from my lips." As an after thought, she murmured. "Please?"

Aee chuffed a hot breath of his own drunken with the lust building inside and slurred by the forbidden fruit offered to him. He nuzzled against her cheek. "My name-- my name is Aee."

"Aee." Leslie cooed.

"Aee--..." She felt the magic swell around. Within. The bright, fluffy mire of dizzying power soaked into the clothing Aee wore pulled his consciousness in, slowly and deliberately pulling his mind in to its hazy folds as sleep gradually begin to overtake the immortal sphinx. He looked at her.

And he smiled. A wry, knowing grin. "Clever girl..."

Leslie wrapped her arms around him to brace his landing while the sleep finally dragged him into unconsciousness. He lay still except for his breathing, which was slow and rhythmic. For a moment she didn't think to get up, but stayed at his side for a few moments, running her hand through his hair and enjoying the closeness of his warm fur.

This poor creature had been there forever, possibly before that, and the first person to enter his life-- however unwillingly-- had tricked him. Leslie stroked his face. "We're not so different, huh?" She said to Isira. "I mean, I loved David but I loved him for what I thought he was and not what he actually was."

When Isira didn't reply she continued. "Maybe in another world, another time, we could've been something more. But that's past tense, huh? That's done..."

Leslie stood up, already swearing she'd leave the sleeping creature a note or something. When she turned to where Isira had been, expecting to see her patron smiling, she only saw emptiness. Confused, she looked around to find herself alone save for Aee.

She must have been waiting outside or in the casino itself. Odd, so close to the prize She'd just disappear, but maybe Leslie had taken enough of Her time as it was. Leslie stripped the bed of its comforter and laid it across Aee's sleeping form, tucking it in with a soft smile. "Sleep well..."

The magic wouldn't last forever if she'd understood it's nature correctly, she could already feel it unraveling and it wouldn't be long before Aee would awake groggy and hopefully not vengeful. The last thing she needed was an immortal out to kill her.

As she approached the display case she opened her and extra senses at the same time, as easily as if she'd reached out to touch it, she could feel the weak but compact nature of the glass's internal structure standing unperturbed by her presence. It was the tight weave of good silk combined with the nature of glass itself but for its practical value it was completely mundane. "If you're still with me, I hope the warranty you took out on my body covers fingers, too." Leslie wiggled her fingers and touched the case.

Nothing happened.

She reached out with both hands and briefly considered pushing it over. Instead she slipped into her new senses and felt around the 'weave' of the material's weak points. She found a tiny dent in the thinnest part of the case where the nature of glass's weave was loose enough she could wiggle a finger into between the strands and, with some work, unravel a couple strands and unbind them-- the rest of it came unraveled even easier. When she was done she had a space big enough that she could have crawled in.

The armor's distinct sense was divine. Unquestionably powerful, but off somehow. It didn't feel like anything Isira would have made, it had no trace of Her power. It felt cool, compassionate and ready for a fight. Beyond the physical protection it offered the magic itself was bound to protect and attack. This was armor built for war.

By a different god.

Leslie blinked. Isira had lied to her...

She'd come too far to turn back, she'd already committed herself, she couldn't just let it go-- No. It was too late to question herself. She reached for the armor and was promptly blown off her feet to crash spectacularly into the bookcase near the door, splashing into the abyss of unconsciousness.

* * * * *

Leslie awoke some time later amongst a bunch of books and splintered wood with a crushing headache biting into the back of her skull. Reaching for what was surely going to be one hell of a knot she noticed she was clad in a new dress with a considerable amount of frill and lace. All practical but extravigantly beautiful with its quasi-leather bodice and lacey chest and modest knee length skirt. The high heel boots only capped off the strange mix of fashion. The armor in the case was gone.

Surely she wasn't wearing it.

But the feeling was there. Everything about her person said Elisandra's touch was pressed to her skin as surely as Isira's was to her soul. Painfully she rose and nearly faceplanted when she tried to take a step on the heels. She flailed on her way down to her knees but when she slammed into the stone she barely felt it. The cloth under her knees had taken the impact; as strong as steel, as smooth as silk.

Leslie got to her feet once more and stumbled, half tripped and nearly went end over end as she made her way into the main chamber. The thought of lower heels morphed the boot around the bottom of her foot to accommodate her 'request' allowing her an easier step.

Hesitantly she made her way past the dangling magic objects, past the odd vehicle and the archaic, indecipherable billboards and up the arching steps to the casino's high stakes area. She poked her head through the veil of darkness to find it empty. Instant relief swept through her-- she snatched a drink of cherry water from the bar and crept up the spiral stairs to the main pit.

She stood strong and proud, the way she imagined a paladin should as she crossed the gambling floor. Her visage drew a great deal of attention from men and women alike but no one tried to stop her. No one had known what she'd done. No one tried to stop her; they stood in awe of her presence.

It was heady. It was insane. And it took everything she had not to burst into a run. She prowled towards the door. It opened for her and the doorman stepped aside to allow her entry. He already had her mantle slung over his arm. "Madam," he said cordially.

Leslie swallowed. If there was any chance she'd be stopped, this was going to be it. She stepped into the chamber and the man stepped behind her, affixing her mantle over her shoulders and tying its ribbon neatly at her throat. The front door then opened on a bright afternoon full of hope and singing birds.

She allowed herself to smile. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," he said softly. "Enjoy your day, and congratulations on your winnings."

Leslie peeked outside, there was no one around. "Ah, have you seen my friend?"

"Your friend?"

"Yes, uh...tall brunette woman? Incredibly beautiful, very curvy? She didn't seem particularly thrilled with you?"

The man looked at her oddly. "I'm afraid not. You came alone, miss."

"No I didn't. I came with Isir--...with a friend. She was with me when I came in here. Remember? You two had some kind of friction."

"I'm terribly sorry, but I would have remembered two exceptional beauties."

"But-- but you're a cherub! She told me!"

His polite smile turned faintly cold and he clasped his hands behind his back. "You should probably take your winnings and leave, miss..."

"But--"

"The Holy Elisandra does not take well to thieves." He said simply. "I may not be able to do anything to you, but there will be those who can."

Leslie stared at him already feeling the blood drain from her face. "She was never here?"

"No."

"I'm alone."

"I wouldn't say that, you have Her touch about you." He nodded to the necklace she was wearing. The bronze lotus was in full bloom, shining brightly in the muted light of the room. "If you say your goddess sent you here, I'm sure The Holy Elisandra and your goddess can decide what will become of you."

Leslie took a deep breath, dampened her lips, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity she smiled. "Guess I should get my ass in gear, then."

"That would probably be wise, yes."

"Would you do me a favor? Let Aee know I--...I really like him and I hope he's not upset."

"I will." The Cherub turned away. "Pleasant travels, miss Leslie."

"You too--" she said to the closing door. She was alone? When had Isira left her? What about the music, or the dancing? The jokes?! Leslie stared at the door searching for clues she was missing-- somewhere she had to have gotten away from Isira, somewhere she'd been politely nudged to do things on her own...

But--

But, no. The more she thought about it, the more she realized no one had actually commented on the things Isira said, they'd not acknowledged the things She had done. The singing, the dancing? The room full of people praising Isira's name?

That couldn't have been her, could it?

Leslie looked to the sky warily. "What'd you do to me?"

Maybe that wasn't it, though. Maybe it wasn't about what had been done 'to' her but rather what she herself had chosen to do. Leslie had free choice. She had always had free choice. Maybe in her heart of hearts she had been expressing it the only way she knew how. Deities were known to take mortal forms, but never for one person.

Isira had given her the gift of sight again, She had bestowed powers upon her and then set Her new paladin off to sink or swim. In the process teaching her everything she needed to know about how to handle herself.

She had done in an evening what Leslie hadn't been able to do in five years of living in darkness. Isira had given her back her spirit and her life and while she would never be able to go back to a simple life-- especially not now that she was probably going to kick off some kind of holy conflict with her theft of the armor-- but she felt proud. She laughed all the way down the steps into the great unknown.

It was a good time to be alive.