Night threw its darkened veil across the valley, covering the land from tip to toe as a long pale figure cut through the thick of it. He was no longer in hiding, no longer so careful as to not announce his presence. Luther had never been a patient man, and it was a whole miracle that he'd actually stood in place while his wounds healed. The Cerulean Tunnels were drab and void of any life, and for the purpose of hiding after being on the verge of death they may be perfect, but when he wanted to actually hang out and join the nightlife of Amaryllis they were far from great.

He missed being unbound by any restrictions. He missed the freedom of his title, of his Vater's riches. Soon enough he will have it all back. In that, he was certain.

And so he left the shoreline and directed himself towards the Hot Springs. The heat from the small pools was unpleasant at first until he slowly submerged his gargantuan body fully and let his muscles relax. Soon all will be right.

It had gotten dark around her that night. Anniston trailed hastily along the rocky slopes, the occasional misstep sending gravel debris plummeting downward with clipped echoes. She had thought she sensed an easy meal: a hare, or something like it lurking within the freeze. An hour or so of wandering had proven it too elusive for one so impatient as that young royal. She glowered pitifully as she walked, her paws numb and unfeeling with the cold even after she had changed her set course to (more simply) away rather than to a meal. That was when the scent hit her upside the nose: rotten eggs, running water, a stranger.

Anniston lifted her head up on instinct. Her stride turned into something more fitting of a princess rather than a frozen alleycat, her tail waving lavishly behind her as she rounded a tall set of rocks to finally get a glimpse of the sulfur-laden scene. There lay a shimmering group of pools glowing in the moonlight, a ghostly figure laid back and clearly basking in the steam billowing all around them.

"Did it smell like this when you got here?" She projected a mischievous question so as to be heard across the way.

---

|| december y10 | two years | LP royalty | at hot springs | @Luther ♔ ||

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The heat from the spring water immediately began to work on dissipating the tautness of his muscles, pulling away the exhaustion and the stiffness caused by long days lying in wait. Long days licking his physical and psychological wounds after that faithful night and the consequential days afterward. The fog rose from the pools, dancing tenderly upon his pale features, obscuring his view and yet he could hear the approach of someone. In a few moments, he could vaguely make out the shape of a woman at the pool's edges, her plum pelt draped in the ghostly fog. His eyes narrowed immediately, and he felt a momentary return of the stiffness in his body. Had he made a mistake coming here?

In any case - it was too late to think about it. He will simply roll with the punches, even if it was an unwelcome Ecrosian. Schemes & plans shifted in his head. Thankfully, the Hot Springs would be a good place for two things; relaxing & hiding a body.

"Did it smell like this when you got here?" The voice was familiar, but he could not pin a face to it. It was girlishly mischievous, and the scent that wafted toward him was that of the Plains - not of the Mire. This simple fact made him relax if only a bit. "Are you implying I smell like rotten eggs?" he called back with his own mischievous tone. "Because I don't." Well, maybe he did now, considering the smell was thick in the area around them. "You are always welcome to check for yourself though." He invited, smirking, and yet with a nonchalant shrug.

Heat bloomed in her stomach as she watched him adjust slightly to the realization of her presence.

"Are you implying I smell like rotten eggs? Because I don't."

Anniston turned up the corners of her mouth in a crimped smile as she dared slink forward. It was a masculine voice that greeted her – gruff and deep, though not malicious enough to truly discourage the girl yet. The closer she got, the more familiarity tugged at the back of her mind.

"That sounds like what someone who smells like rotten eggs would say," she mused airily. Coming up to the edge of his pool, the billowing steam was enough to shield the rest of the shadowy scene from view as if they were in liminal space.

"You are always welcome to check for yourself though."

"Hmm," she considered, squinting with delight down at the pallid near-stranger. Anniston only deliberated a moment before leaning over the water's edge and taking in a delicate whiff. "Moss... sand... eggs," she concluded with a resolute nod.

"Do me next," the princess insisted girlishly and leaned forward.

---

@Luther ♔

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The silhouette shifted to cut through the drapes of ghostly tendrils, her features becoming clearer with each step she took toward the edge of his pool. The closer she got, the more his eyes played along the athletic curves of her robust body, of the dulled plum shade of her pelt & the pink eyes that sat prettily against her youthful features. Pink. Where have I seen those? The face was familiar, but he could not for the life of him put neither a title nor a name. There was a vague memory somewhere in the back of his mind, but not enough to create her identity. Not nearly enough.

Her voice joked again, and his lips upturned in a broader smirk, entertained by her jests. Or perhaps he was simply playing the courteous gentleman, as per usual. She approached his invitation, her face now dangerously close to his. Tasting his scent. He felt warmth awaken within the pit of his stomach, the beast of desire quick to stir within the gluttonous ex-prince. Her soft voice concluded that he smelled of moss, sand, and... eggs. He scoffed, but his cold eyes burned now, entranced by the closeness of her. "Do me next," He shifted so he could face the edge - face @Anniston. The charming smile upon his lips was inviting, and playful. Oh, I will do you. He took a deep inhale of her. "Mmm," his baritone voice muttered thoughtfully, then concluded; "Does delicious count?" He leaned forward, fangs showing in a cheeky grin. Her scent tasted of meadows, likely that of Lorien. To him, though, she smelled like desire.

His scoff was a familiar lullaby to the brazen girl, a melodic laugh escaping her at her own teasing. "Mmm," he seemed to consider her, breath tickling slightly at one ear as the brute took his turn with her.

"Does delicious count?"

"Yes it does," Anniston confirmed with delight. How correct of him to notice! Her smirk did not waver even as her eyes met his of cool pine, that fanged grin earning her dazzled interest for the moment. She rolled her shoulders up to her neck in a brief shiver from where she sat. Though the steam danced all around her with its glowing warmth, it was tantalizing at best to one so nearly frozen.

"Are you going to help me get in... what's-your-name?" She murmured, furrowing her brows the moment it dawned on her they had still not swapped introductions.

"I'm Anniston Frei – Heiress of Lorien," she introduced. He need not know it was not a working title.

---

@Luther ♔
+5 - Relax with someone else
+5 - Slack off or shirk one's responsibilities

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Her laugh was musical, a wonderful little bird song that made him wonder what those tones would sound pitched, with him as the director. Fire burned in his loins as she batted her eyelashes, lust overbearing a greedy mind that always wanted more & more. He will have all of her by the end of tonight. In that, he was more than confident.

"Yes it does," Her confirmation was met with his gaze hungrily trailing the way her lips upturned, and how wonderfully plump they looked. "Gut, because you're nothing short of it, liebling." It was strange how simply, how easily, Luther could turn into the complete opposite of what he was. Now he was courteous, charming, angelic even... when he was the quite opposite of these things. These masks he wore like a chamelion were trained since childhood and strengthened every day. Practice made perfect.

"Are you going to help me get in... what's your name?" "You needn't ask a second time," he stood, water cascading down his thick pale furs, englossing the brutish musculature that lay usually hidden, to offer her his arm. Or his body, if she so desired. "- Luther. Just Luther, of the World." He grinned cheekily, purposefully omitting his surname. He would be damned if his mother's side cockblocked him tonight. The bearish woman had done enough ruin for a lifetime to let her ruin his fun now. @Anniston's introduction made his brow twist in what seemed like subtle awe at her title, but was actually jealousy at a title he himself had held. And now he didn't. Still, he somehow managed to turn that jealousy into desire again. Desire to conquer a high-status woman even now, when he was nothing but a wanderer. An outcast. "Anniston," the name tasted familiarly upon his tongue, and yet it still ran from his memory. "It suits you. It has a... queenly ring to it." Flattery opened all doors. And legs.

The words he spoke were funny – ironic, to have a paternal language she had never known, and now shared with this stranger. Perhaps their ancestors were laughing. Pleasure brimmed in her gaze as the gruff stranger spoke sweet nothings to her, earning another sniffing laugh from her just as he stood in all his soggy glory. A large man, yes, but she could still look down at him from where she sat above the springs. Anniston paused in a moment of consideration before giving out her paw to meet his,

"- Luther. Just Luther, of the World."

So she had found a wild man! Even if his position was notably lower than hers, did that not make her appear that much more grand by comparison? She lightened her expression with approval as she allowed him to lead her into the scorching depths of the springs, giggling with a small shudder as the heat washed away all remnants of frigid turmoil in a matter of moments.

"What a pleasure," she purred, glancing from the simmering pool back up to the fanged stranger – had he moved closer, or was she imagining it?

"Anniston. It suits you. It has a... queenly ring to it." Bread, meet butter.

"You really think so?" She fished. Her stomach fluttered with the unabashed attentions of the man, flattery doing its work to loosen prissy lips as she tried to meet his gaze in search of appreciation. She could not help the way she glanced briefly to the space at his side, girlish apprehension wondering if she should fill it.

---

@Luther ♔

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He stood poised in wait for her to take his extended paw. Just a man here to serve. To pamper. Not a selfish, greedy bastard in need of a woman to bed tonight. No. A gentleman. He played his role with such ease that he could clalify for an Oscar if such thing existed in Amaryllis.

Finally, the Heiress took his arm and he aided her in descending into the hot pool of spring water. He watched her shift toward the other edge, fluttering away like a butterfly from his clutches. It was alright, of course. He was nothing if not a patient man. He knew how to play this game for two, and he will enjoy every moment of it. The chase was fun on it's own. The Rike man shifted a few inches closer, hoping that she would not notice. Or if she did notice? Certainly, she wouldn't mind. "Indeed," her echoed her purred remark. "Far more pleasant with such glamorous company." He complimented, shooting the girl his most charming smile.

It seems his flattery was met with open arms, and they even sought to grab more of it. Well, if @Anniston wanted more flattery, she had come to the right place, at the right time. Not to mention, she was quite delectable. All things in her favor. "Oh, don't act modest now, liebling," he began with an appreciative gaze that trailed the visible curves of her body. The fire of lust burning throughout his body, and his eyes burned brightest. "From your name, your body, to the way you hold yourself - you are a Queen without a doubt, Anniston." Luther cooed, noting the way her eyes fluttered briefly toward the spot beside him. Instead of inviting her, he sought to shift ever closer while speaking his sweet nothings, to stand dangerously close. One step at a time. He was nonchalant, careful not to overbear her. Women were the most skittish prey, after all.

Glamorous, queenly, delicious! She had to wonder where all of those lovely words came from, and why others had not been using them sooner. It was what she deserved, and Luther's lavish praise only made her feel it that much more.

"Oh, don't act modest now, liebling." When had she ever been accused of that? Anniston smirked as she watched his gaze roam across her features, that fluttering feeling in her gut turning into a burning weight somehow separate from even the heat of the waters churning around them.

"From your name, your body, to the way you hold yourself - you are a Queen without a doubt, Anniston."

She was already gliding through the water. Luther pressed closer and she tried to jump inside of his drowned arms, watery weightlessness overtaking her even as she felt the firm security of his muscled grasp greedy and enveloping.

"Tell me more," she purred. Her gaze glittered as it studied his of seafoam, faint smile permanently etched across velvet lips. Even still, she did not give in fully – did not press her kiss to his nape, as some animalistic part of her wished. She only basked in the electricity of such close quarters and such heavenly praise. Time had made her immune to the scent of sulfur by then, far more pressing matters such as the droplets on his chin and the feeling of soaking furs pushing up against her enough to dizzy the play-pretend heiress.

---

@Luther ♔

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