Azazel Balcony

Elektra stood at the rooftops wearing her normal black wardrobe, arms folded delicately across her chest, staring at the view from her vantage point. After the death of the Duke, Atticus had ungone several changes such as it's operation and officials, but particularly with it's landscape.

Atticus had been a seaside region, with everything connected to the bright sun and shining sea, much to Elektra's annoyance. Caraklein was the exact opposite. Located high in the Mountains, everyday and everything was covered with snow and ice, with harsh, unforgiving gales. A realm entirely of it's own, almost secluded in a way as not many would willingly attempt to cross and enter Winter's Hell without good reason.

It had been a sharp, not to mention painful transition from going from Winter Wonderland to a 'small, fisherman's shack by the ocean' as Elektra herself had described Atticus Castle upon first seeing it. After all, being a Carakleinian, she was used to the comforting embrace of ice to the point where she could walk in below freezing temperature with no protection whatsoever, unaffected. Atticus, with it's seaside atmosphere, had literally been hell for Elektra. The warmer atmosphere, and the constant sunlight had suffocated her, leaving her with unbearable headaches as well as episodes of temporary blindness.

Posol hadn't helped anything by throwing hissy fits every single time she declined an invitation to join him on a hunting expedition, walk down the beach, or what-not. Granted, not all of her declinations were for health reasons... but still. Elektra felt Posol ought to have shown her at least a bit more leeway or understanding in that region. Perhaps if he had done so, he would have had a more merciful death.

"Oh well," she thought to herself, smirking at the memories. "What is done is done."

A slight frown crossed her pale features as she remembered what the Carakleinian Ambassador Dyadam had told her earlier. Because it was Posol's death anniversary, it was custom to honor his death with a ball, with as many nobels and royals as possible, particularly since Posol had been a War hero. She was also required to perform a dance, which she had yet to truly think about and plan.

Sapphire orbs rolled briefly, as a soft sigh of irritation escaped their owner. She honestly wasn't looking forward to the required Ball. Despite the meetings with various other nobles, Elektra hadn't been able to get close with any of them, especially when they were close to Posol and most likely knew of the issues in their marriage. Whichever highly bent and twisted version it may be.

But still... one never knew what may happen, she told herself in a hopeful note. Especially since there was a rather strong possibility of seeing someone who was at the moment, and for, infurtunately, most of the time, was far away, and yet somehow never seemed to stray from her thoughts.

"Hopefully..." she whispered with a half-smile, half-smirk as she gazed across the frozen, icy terrain (she had transformed the beachy "paradise" into a surrounding similar to that of her homeland) with a new spark of excitement burning within her.

If there were two things that could be said of Iago they were this: firstly, he hated riding in a carriage. Even with a window open, one only had a limited view of where they were heading. Iago wanted to see precisely where he was leaving and to where he was headed. The second thing: Iago did not like traveling with an entourage. All his life he'd more or less been a solo operator in his own affairs, and couldn't help but feel that a gaggle of guards would only seek to report back to Baron Yorick his every move no matter how minute. No, he didn't need shelter while en route to his destination, nor did he need company.

The deity or power of choice be with the unfortunate fool that decided to accost him on his way to Azazel Palace.

Speaking of the Palace within the dukedom of Atticus, the sorcerer could see clearly now the sheer mass of the place. Immediately the sorcerer scanned the trees for his raven, Gethin, and called for it with a whistled sigh. A loud "Caw!" was heard shortly before the bird took flight, searching for its master.

Iago stretched out his free arm for the bird to perch on, calling the equally ebony-haired stallion to a halt. "Gethin..." the sorcerer murmured to the crow and stroked the creature's wing feathers. The place had been made into a wintry paradise since their last visit to the land, and personally Iago rather liked the change despite a need to dress exceedingly warm and the blinding glare of sun off the pristine white snow. "Kindly take this message to the Duchess for me..." he commanded, securing a scroll of parchment and a parcel to the bird's legs before sending it off again.

The parchment contained a dark, sophisticated poem indicating for the Duchess and sorceress Elektra to look to the south for he would be arriving shortly - though not in so many words. His parcel contained two roses of the deepest black petals, tied together with a blood red ribbon of silk.

Message sent, the sorcerer continued his ride to the palace at a gallop; neck-length raven hair bouncing in time with the hoofbeats.

Elektra shifted slightly in her position, opting to sit in a sideways manner on the ledge, as though she were riding sidesaddle, as she gazed across the frozen waters, thinking about everything, and nothing, at all. Every now and then, a random thought such as details needing to be looked at for preparation of the Ball entered her mind such as the invitations that needed to be sent out, but she honestly wasn't in any mood to care. At this moment, all she felt like doing was daydreaming.

It was only the sound of a bird's call that broke Elektra's reverie, followed by a slight, tingling pressure forming at her head. She was sensing something: A source of dark magic, heading closer and closer...

Her mind immediately fit the pieces of the puzzle together as happiness illuminated her ghostly pale features, brightening them further when a familiar raven appeared before her, holding a scroll and parcel.

"Hello Gethin..." she uttered softly, gently stroking the raven's feathers in greeting, before untying the items. From within her roves, she withdrew a small treat for the bird (she kept some with her at all times, just in case of moments such as this one) before more or less attacking the scroll. Her hands shook as she unraveled it, yet it was in no way as a result of the below freezing temperatures surrounding her. Oh no, far from it, considering Carakleinians, having grown up in the heart of the iciest terrain in the world, were nearly immune to it. No, the shaking in her hands was from an emotion far too personal for Elektra to ever publicly voice...

The breath caught in her throat as sapphire orbs scanned the paper as her heartbeat sped up. She closed her eyes briefly as his faint scent wafted towards her, causing her already racing heart to beat even faster. The poem caused her to melt inside, despite her icy surroundings, as well as inject excitement into her system as the news of Iago's impending arrival was revealed. The sorceress reluctantly tore her attention away from the paper (which she then vowed to save) and opened the parcel, curiosity and affection guiding her every move.

The smile upon her face increased even more, if such were possible, as Elektra gazed at the beautiful flowers the parcel contained. Gently, she picked up the bound roses, admiring them and the pure, dark beauty they contained. She tucked Iago's poem away within her robes (close to her heart) as she did as instructed, looking to the south for Iago's arrival, holding the roses close to her face. Not too close to the point where they would hinder her viewpoint, but close enough so that she could smell the sweet, subtle scent emitted by the roses, and still daydreams, simultaneously watching as one of them came true.

Using his connection to his raven, Iago looked out through Gethin's eyes at the surroundings nearest the creature. There was a flutter of... something... upon seeing Elektra's response to his message. Even after all this time since meeting her and having been impressed by her improving skills in magic, he still couldn't place what this sensation was. A curse no doubt bestowed upon him by his father's cruel genes.

Coaxing Gethin to look to the south, Iago could clearly see himself riding along the ice-and-snow covered ground. It wasn't very hard: a raven-haired man wearing nearly all black and astride an equally ebony-haired and -skinned horse amidst a blanket of white was really a bit of a giveaway. Though Gethin was able to see clearly his master from the distance, Iago assumed that to Elektra he would appear as a black speck. The sorcerer relinquished his hold upon the crow, and allowed his own less-than-bird's eye perfect vision return. However, even from this distance, he could swear he could see someone upon one of the balconies. Then again, perhaps it was merely because of Gethin's help that he knew she was there.

Not sure if she would really be able to see him from there, Iago once again slowed his horse to a near-halt. This time, however, he commanded the creature to rear back on its hind legs but not so far as to where it would throw him off. The pose had ended almost as soon as it began, and once again the sorcerer's pace quickened.

* * * *

With some magical assistance, Iago managed to arrive at the gates of Azazel Palace within the hour. A stable boy insisted on taking the horse to food and drink, and not for the first time Iago simply let the young man do so. He ducked inside the palace walls and, when he was certain no one was watching him, attempted a feat of magic that would transport him from entrance hall to wherever the person of focus was located. It was not a feat that he could use when he was such a significant distance away as he was in Danothos. But here... here he could risk it. It was a tiring bit of magic, but he did it anyway.

"Greetings and good fortune to you, Elektra," he ventured in a quiet tone once he was certain no one was watching and that he hadn't botched the spell used to get from from the ground to this balcony. Had they been in public he would have addressed her properly. But since they were not... Iago for one was perfectly fine with dispensing with the formalities.

Elektra’s heart raced even fasted with heightened excitement as she spotted the black speck amidst the white domain, Iago on his horse, coming closer and closer to the palace. Closer to her. He was the dark passion play in her life. It was him and him alone who made the nonexistent flame within her burn, melting the bulwark around the Ice Queen’s heart. One look, one little word, and the sorceress was no more than a melted puddle, begging, pleading, and screaming for more. Dangerous position, she knew, but what could she do? The heart wants what the heart wants, even if what it longs for, denies it gratification.

Sapphire orbs locked unto Iago’s traveling form, soon closing as the dark magic emitting from him caressed her senses, torturing her into honeyed lunacy, as she felt the sorcerer come closer and closer.

Just when she would die from the sweet torture from sensing his magical presence come closer and closer, she heard him. His smooth, rich, almost chocolate like tone, escaping his mouth, cadencing towards her, coaxing a very light tinge of color to tint her ghostly features, accompanied by a small smile.

“Likewise,” she replied a bit breathlessly, bending her form slightly into a curtsy, though she was perfectly fine with dispensing the formalities. It was rather hard to explain why she felt the need to greet him with a semi-formal response. The best she could formulate was that there was just something about Iago that practically commanded absolute respect, similar to that a King should receive. One she was more than willing to bestow.

It was rather interesting, she thought, that while she had a remarkably difficult time showing respect and bowing to royals, particularly those reining this land, she would willingly, and happily, get on her knees and more for the sorcerer before her.

True, she also more or less worshipped him, but that wasn’t the point.

Feeling a bit bolder, possibly because of his gifts, she added with a hint of flirtation. “It must be good fortune indeed, for I am once more graced by your presence.” Flirtatious, but not even that could conceal the sincerity and emotion entwined in the remark.

“I trust your journey was well?” Elektra inquired warmly, knowing that the journey was fairly long and Iago may not be as accustomed or as fond as she was of the icy terrain that now covered Azazel (formerly Atticus). The sorceress stepped a bit closer to Iago as to lessen the gap between them, her hands still clinging the roses. “The roses are lovely, by the way.” She added, bringing the flowers up to her face, slowly, to inhale the sweet scent, before lowering them to her side once more, the petals brushing against her crimson lips slightly as she did so.

“I thank you.” The sorceress said, with a slightly wider smile, tilting her head downward, and dropping her gaze in shy thanks.

When Elektra curtsied, Iago immediately reciprocated with as graceful a bow as possible. The fact that her reply was a bit breathless hadn't escaped him. Had the sorcerer startled her? He didn't think it were possible, what with her ability to sense magic. Under normal circumstances he would resent bowing to others in authority, a trait learned from his plot to overthrow his father's reign in Danothos... a plot still in the works, regrettably... But it was different with Elektra. Different in the fact that he meant the respect conveyed in the gesture.

Different in that he would do... anything? ... for the sorceress in his midst. It was an odd feeling, really. One he'd never really felt about anyone before. There was Tobiah, the knight that rescued him from certain death, but that was a completely different sensation and situation. Tobiah was the father Iago never had. Elektra... well, she was a bit harder to place. What would he do for her? Or, better yet, what wouldn't he do? Technically she did far outrank him, even if he was a baron's son. Very few knew that who he truly was, however.

But social status was hardly the reason for his compliance in the custom, even if Iago hadn't convinced himself of that yet.

A smirk slowly twisted his lips at the semi-flirtatious but overall sincere comment. "Indeed... for I am equally graced by yours," he replied with similar sincerity. There was a faint amount of returned flirtatiousness... just enough to be considered an overtone. Like the tang of an unorthodox flavor to increase the overall appeal of a dish.

Despite his years, Iago had spent more of his time in pursuit of knowledge rather than love. And on the occasions he had made time for such a thing, it hadn't held much sway over him. It was nothing like his dedication to Tobiah's hope... or the tug of rare but true loyalty he felt the Duchess had earned of him upon succeeding in what he had yet to accomplish in his own realm. The time wasn't yet right to overthrow Yorick, but Iago could sense its swift approach...

"Quite... I doubt bandits have dared travel the road from here to Danothos since the last time I traveled this way," he replied with a light splash of amusement mixed with the words. Considering his brand of magic, it seemed all too clear as to how Iago might have taken care of that problem. "If it weren't the change from islandside to winter paradise, the trip would have actually been rather dull. I am going to assume that your grace arranged for the change in scenery?" Iago added, his question undeniably wry and slightly playful.

"How I adore a territory blanketed in snow and ice. Where upon the moment one greets the day they are as if kissed by the frost. A kiss not even the sun can match, for despite its attempts the chill still nips seductively at the skin..." Realizing he was likely rambling, Iago paused there. However, he decided to commit what he'd said to memory. It might make a good poem, with a bit of tweaking.

Clearing his throat, Iago added a bit more concisely, "I was most pleased with the improvement... though I only wish my Carakleinian heritage would've lent me slightly more resistance to the cold. I am nearly immune, but not completely." A light chuckle issued from him at the confession of sorts.

It was no secret between them of their shared ethnic heritage, after the time Elektra had identified for him the tune his mother's music box played as being Carakleinian. Admittedly, Iago had only books to go on as he hadn't much time with his mother, though only sought them out after he'd learned of his roots and had decided to learn more. It was this knowledge, though limited, that brought him here: it was nearly the death anniversary of Elektra's late husband, the Duke. A ball and dance in Posol's memory was mandatory according to Carakleinian tradition. It was the reason Iago had used to spare himself from Baron Yorick's presence for a while.

It was hardly the only reason that brought him here, Iago had indeed admitted that much to himself. Elektra's company was simply... there was no simple description he might use.

The heart within Iago's chest increased its pace slightly as the sorceress stepped closer to him. It mystified him as to why that was. He certainly didn't fear her... very much the opposite, in fact. Even his breathing had quickened. Never before had he reacted in such a way to a woman that merely approached him. It seemed to only happen around Elektra, and particularly after she told him precisely how she'd disposed of her husband and step-son. An increase in respect? Likely. A silent spell? Iago highly doubted that... But, he reasoned, these symptoms did not occur within him towards the few others the sorcerer respected with any amount of sincerity. Then again, those individuals were quite seldom indeed.

One could probably count them upon a single hand.

"I thought you would like them..." responded the sorcerer in the same quiet yet clear tone as he'd been using, eyes watching the journey of the roses: the slow but deliberate path to her nose, a pause, and then caressing her lips gently as they were once again returned to her side. Iago wondered which was softer: the petal of rose or the sorceress's scarlet lips. He suddenly felt slightly envious, though couldn't discern the source of such a feeling. The surely wonderful caress the roses created upon cascading down and passed her chin. ... Was that it? Envious over roses, of all things?! Iago immediately pushed the thought and the odd coveting out of his mind. "They come from my own garden at the Baron's castle; magically preserved to retain their scent... for a time."

The smirking smile he had been giving Elektra the entire time up until now grew, if such a thing were possible. Deciding that he would attempt a slightly bolder move than sending a Duchess flowers and a poem, Iago took two paces toward her while the sapphire orbs were lowered. A pair of long masculine fingers reached out, curled under the Duchess-Sorceress's chin, and tilted it up upward; encouraging her to return her gaze to him.

Orbs of blackest obsidian glittered, matching the smirk-smile on the lower half of his face rather well. "Being the recipient of your smile is more than enough thanks for me..." Iago stated, trailing off. He wasn't quite sure whether his actions warranted his using her title, her given name, or no means of extraneous address at all. But of one thing he was certain: he truly meant what he'd said.

A rarity for the ambitious son of a power-hungry baron...

It was painfully amusing, and nearly frightening to her just how far she would go for Iago's happiness. All her life, Elektra had always believed she was better than everyone. She loathed authority figures and those who outranked. Even with her own father she had forced herself to smile and courtesy. Yet with Iago, she genuinely believed she wasn't and would never be good enough for him. For the first time in her life, Elektra felt that her ancestry meant nothing. All it proved and showed was that she had merely been born lucky.

Her heart seemed to stop for a moment and then beat into overdrive once more at Iago's replied statement. She could have sworn she heard sincerity and... a hint of flirtation as well? Maybe? Although, the moment the thought was conceived, it was aborted. "Silence, you fool." she chastised herself. "He thinks nothing of you they way you think of him. Only laughter would escape him should you be foolish enough to confess..."

Was this her atonement? Her punishment for her sins she had done and continued to do to this very day? How cruel indeed, for the Sorceress was positive than there was no greater pain in life than to love a man so deeply, and yet be doomed to be trapped in a world where he would never return the emotions.

A soft, melodic laugh echoed from her at Iago's anecdote as she nodded. She knew of Iago's powers for it was one of the numerous reasons she admired him and couldn't help smile apologetically at the icy surroundings causing a lack of bandits and amusement for Iago, though the true smile of happiness she normally reserved for him returned full throttle at the sorcerer’s apparent approval and the hint of playfulness she detected in his words.

"Lovely, isn't it? Much more eye appealing than the blasted ocean, in my opinion. Bur then again, I may be biased as I was not able to see the previous scenery half the time,” she replied with the same trace of laughter. "The peasants aren't too thrilled with the loss of their swimming pool, but they'll adjust, in time."

A raven eyebrow rose slightly in interest at the cadence of what sounded like poetry emitting from the man beside her, bewitching her like a siren, luring her to her doom. As though she was under a spell, she slipped out her own addition to his words. "Passionate storm, fleeting and haunting. Dawn rises with she who rules the glorious ice, caresses or kills with a single kiss. Fear her or tame her. Seek her, seduce her, have her, kill her, tame her, blame her. Feast on it all. Beware. For never shall you be denied." she finished with a breathless note.

She couldn't help but wonder what would it be like for ice of her lips to caress his, for in her mind, it would indeed be a heavenly start to a day. Particularly since the start of her day for her, was a daily pain and curse she seemed force to endure, as her faux reality was revealed to be no more than wishful thinking, haunting her mind and dreams.

The sound of Iago clearing his throat immediately broke her reverie as she smiled in response. "I am glad." in a softer voice she added. "For there is none whose opinion I hold higher than yours, Iago..."

She couldn't stop herself from blurting out in a slightly dreamy tone "Perhaps if you stayed long enough, your immunity will strengthen.” which illustrated a bit more desire and hope than Elektra would have liked. A strong rebuke echoed in her mind at herself for such a display, along with another reminder to herself to keep her tongue in check. The last thing she desired was for a worshiped opinion such as the one Iago held, to be one viewing Elektra as no more than a foolish fool.

Iago's Carakleinian heritage had been one, one of many, Elektra might add, of the reasons she had felt so drawn to him. She had arrived to the foreign world of Alrania as a stranger, locked and trapped among a whole new world, causing numerous bouts of loneliness, fear, and anxiety to ravage her. Iago had helped quiet those demons, in her mind, saw who she was, reaching for her hand, and being her first, and only friend, even before she had known of their shared roots, and for that she would always be grateful for. And always yearn for.

If Elektra were to be brutally honest, she could very well have opted to forgo the tradition of a ball in Posol's honor. After all, such a tradition was not in Alrania and there was no one forcing her to carry it out. No, there was only one reason Elektra had decided to hold the ball, and it had nothing to do with a dead, festering corpse. Her main goal was the guest-list, and to have one guest in particular return to her side, if only for a brief moment.

One brief ember of passionate longing, forsaken and silenced emotions, in the torturous game of love, so that she may carry on her dance of loneliness once more.

"It's rather ironic, isn't it, that even in death, Posol still, in some way, brings us together?" she whispered in a soft tone, with a hint of amusement.

Elektra couldn't help but notice the changes in Iago's frame as she stepped closer, particularly the quickened breathing. Her breathing was quickening as well... as was her heartbeat... Maybe he? No, impossible. He probably felt that she was invading his personal space. Perhaps he was growing annoyed with her as a result. Elektra prayed that that wasn't so. Nonetheless, however, she slowed her advances, standing close, yet not so close as that he may suffocate.

"I love them. They are absolutely beautiful,” she added as the flowers brushed against her lips. In her mind, she imagined Iago's lips brushing her's, and not roses he had given her. She wondered if his lips would be as soft as the petals, if they would be gentle and tentative, or fiery and passionate, conveying the same emotions Elektra fought with everyday. She halted her thoughts immediately, refusing to wonder any more about Iago's kissing abilities, for fear of what may happen should she lose control. "I had no idea you were fond of gardening." she replied, adding it to her list of reasons on why she loved him. "And a very talented at it, might I add."

She barely fought a gasp as Iago approached her, closing the remaining distance between the two of them, and cupped her chin. She closed her eyes at the sensation, feeling fluttering butterflies in her abdomen, mimicking the rapid beat of her heart. The were so close... It would literally take one more movement for yet another of Elektra's dreams to come true.

"Dare I?" she thought to herself, almost overwhelmed by the scenario, and the genuine sincerity she could feel in his words. "Dare I be so bold to risk it all to fulfill a fool's foolish wish?"

It terrified her. Terrified and excited her, that a man could hold so much power over her. A few spoken words, a simple touch, and embers would ignite her love-plagued soul. But yet, when it came down to it, she could care less for the dangers of her emotions.

This Ice Queen wanted to burn.

She wanted to lose herself, drown herself and burn in dark passion desire, poisonous longing, silenced and hidden motions, in her life's masquerade. She wanted him, longed for, and needed him. To live, to breath. He was taking over her.

Ignited by a new wave of boldness, catalyzed by her intense longing, she whispered in reply, the emotion in her voice, intricately laced into her words, as sapphire orbs mimicked and illustrated the emotion displayed. "All that and more, is yours, my dear Lord. For you to hold and cherish, if you desire, or yours to dispel of, if you see fit..."

At her apologetic smile about the deficit of ‘excitement’ while en route to Azazel, Iago merely shifted his own countenance into what he hoped was a look that said she needn’t apologize. “Quite lovely, indeed. I had not seen an ocean before since... nearly a year ago, as I recall, and I rather prefer this landscape instead,” Iago answered with a splash of amusement, wondering if she caught his reference to the day they’d first met. After all, he’d not been to Atticus until he was sent here by Baron Yorick. “As for the peasants, you are right: they shall adjust. Heed not their pleas unless they beg something worth your time to listen to,” he offered by way of advice. If it came right down to it, Iago supposed in the event the peasants left she could always arrange for a colony of Carakleinians to take up residence here. However then he might not want to leave ever, for the background he knew so little of would be here at his fingertips. He could learn what he’d always desired to know about his mother’s people. Yet he hadn’t dared ask Elektra too many questions lest he be seen as an ignorant fool.

He was rather surprised as Elektra began her own bit of poetry, ebony eyebrows raising as he listened to every word. Something he couldn’t quite place stirred within him at the words uttered. However, Iago had yet to place precisely what that sensation was. “Thou are quite the poet,” he murmured quietly, to show his pleasure at the returned bit of poetry.

The portion of ‘For never shall you be denied’ seemed to stick out rather plainly for him. Was Elektra trying to tell him something in prose? The sorcerer shook off the notion, considering it little more than a fool’s dream. No woman he’d ever been with truly loved him, just as he had never truly loved a woman he’d been with. At least... he hadn’t thought he loved them. Iago could barely even remember their names. Elektra, on the other hand... that was a name that stuck with him ever since he’d heard it.

Iago was surprised yet unsurprised to hear his opinions held so much sway. Ever since he’d split up an arguing Posol and Elektra, and spoken with the latter at length, Iago couldn’t help but feel a connection to the woman. He had wondered if his father ever choked his mother, though the sorcerer hardly considered the young woman before him his mother! If anything, Iago was technically old enough to be Elektra’s father rather than the other way around. Yet, what he felt for her was not what he would call fatherly. Tobiah’s behavior around him did not match Iago’s behavior around Elektra, so therefore it was something else.

Dark eyebrows raised with amused joviality at the suggestion. It was clear such a countenance didn’t visit his face often unless it was with a sinister amusement. Had the undertones of desire and hope been a bit more subtle, he would not have caught them. Though, he still waved it off as over-reading into the situation. “Perhaps; I have heard of such things happening with other conditions. Yet I would not seek to impose upon your hospitality...” he commented lightly.

While the amusement stayed, the joviality waned slightly at the former Duke’s name. A smirk was still upon Iago’s lips. “Quite,” he replied with a slight chuckle. “If it is indeed the late Duke who reunites us...” Iago let the sentence hang open to interpretation. In his opinion, his return truly had nothing to do with Posol... despite what his father might think.

“You are very kind; I thank thee,” he replied graciously, though had dispensed with the endless bowing and such other gestures. They were alone upon this balcony, not amidst the public eye. “And I have been known to dabble in gardening from time to time depending upon the season. Some of it is tended to by servants, of course... But the roses: they in particular come from my own toils only. Servants aren’t even allowed to pick them except at my request.”

Heart pounding and with breathing slightly more under his control, Iago was relieved all Elektra did was close her eyes and nearly gasp. He wondered vaguely if she thought he would strike her. Just as Posol did when the fool was alive... It angered him to think that because of that man, Elektra would fear the contact of a man’s hand upon her from now until the end of her days. Or that was what he thought her gasp was to mean. Their close proximity was not lost on him, as it was he who initiated it.

Dark eyes blinked at her returned sentiment. Dare he take such statements literally? If he did, where then would it lead? What if there was only exaggeration and courtly metaphor to such wording? There was only one way to find out. Well, two ways in actuality, but Iago wasn’t keen on actually asking for clarification. Uncertainty as to how to interpret her words overwhelmed him, for a lot of it depended on how he was to respond.

Suddenly, and without really thinking, Iago opened his mouth to reply. No words came but he did lean forward, the hand cupping Elektra’s chin beckoning her closer as the sorcerer caught her lips with his. While it was his intent to be gentle, there was something significantly ... deeper ... just beneath the surface, struggling to be free. A dark and passionate something ... quite a bit more than just a flicker of fiery flame crackling to life.


All the while the rational side of Iago’s mind screamed at him to stop and immediately beg pardon.

His mind’s pleas went unheeded.

An additional sparkle of happiness illuminated Elektra's features at Iago's response. Particularly his reference to the day they met. The reference was made rather subtly, yet she still caught it. How could she not? After all, in her mind it was one of, if not the greatest day of her life, for it was the beginning of an era in which she actually lived her life, the way she wished to, and not at another's bidding.

Rather ironic as she had escaped a life in which she served one Lord, in hopes and dreams of being in a position to fulfill another Lord's wishes. One who held her bleeding heart in the palm of his hand.

The Sorceress listened intently to his offered advice, nodding her comprehension. She rather liked the feeling of discussing domestic issues with Iago. Not becayse it was her favorite topic to speak of. No, quite the opposite, for despite the fact that domestic issues were within the circle of fascinating topics she could converse with Iago about, but rather because of the emotions she felt.

It was rather difficult to explain, as Elektra herself did not understand the emotion, but it felt... right... speaking of matters of the region with Iago, and making decisions by his side. Particularly since she viewed him as greater than an equal. It felt as though they were meant to do this: rule together, deciding the next step to dominance. In her longing mind she pictured them as rulers, overseeing the affairs of the region, albeit in a much more relaxed setting, with her sitting down, and Iago's head resting on her lap as she gently caressed his features, erasing any stress he may have.

A foolish fantasy, she knew. But what fantasy, particularly one of a woman enduring the pangs of unrequited love, wasn't?

"I thank thee for thy counsel. You are, as always, right. Thou are a true friend indeed." Feeling slightly more confident and wanting to move the conversation past all the dreary affairs of state, she playfully added, "I beg thy pardon, Iago. T'was not my intention to burden you with nonsense problems. Especially as I wished nothing more than for thy stay here at Azazel to be pleasurable..."

Pleasurable for him indeed, for Elektra would ensure that anything his heart may desire would be granted. But torturous for her, as what her heart yearned for would dangle before her longing gaze, yet for eternity, deny her any affections.

As she noticed Iago's raised eyebrows a bright tinge of color crept to her features, followed by a mixed feeling of dread and embarrassment. Perhaps she shouldn't have said so much... After all, Iago's opinion meant all of Gaia to her and it would break her should he think her a fool.

To say she was surprised at his apparent pleasure was an understatement indeed. A silent sigh of relief escaped her, as well as another tinge of color, splashed her features.

"And thou are too kind, for I am not but an amateur compared to thy own words. Thou speaks words of art whereas mine are naught but ramblings of a fool." she replied, glancing down shyly.

"Oh, thou would not be imposing at all!" she replied instantly, though she mentally scolded herself into toning it down a bit. "I mean, it would be an honor and a pleasure to have you stay here in Azazel." With me... she mentally added, her mind praying as her heart pounded into her chest the hope that he would consider her offer.

Sapphire orbs looked at Iago curiously at his response to her words regarding her late husband. Was it not Posol who reunited them? Granted, her mind and heart wished it was his desire to see her again that was the catalyst behind his visit, and not because the Baron bid him to do so. Unless perhaps...?

No, it couldn't be.

... Could it?

"For my part, tis not the memory of that blundering oaf, nor any binding force that lead me to hold the ball and agree to perform the dance..." she offered in a tone barely above a whisper, smiling softly.

She nodded in reply to Iago. "Well I promise thou that thy toils and dedication shan't be vain, for I shall keep these roses forever, and shall think of thou whenever my eyes are graced by their beauty." She promised as her hands ever so gently brushed the petals, trailing along the stem. She frowned slightly, however, as her right index finger happened to prick upon a thorn, creating a gentle cascade of crimson, a few shades lighter than that of the petals, to run along her finger and hand.

How mystical roses were. Beautiful to behold and treasure, yet at the same time, painful and wounding. Like her love for Iago...

She bit her lips lightly as she realized that, once again, she spoke too much and revealed much more than she should have. And yet... a rather large part of her didn't care. She was so tired of pretending and dancing. Tired of hiding her emotions behind masks of neutrality, tired of averting her gaze so he wouldn't see the look of longing in her orbs. Tired of dreaming of a life with him, and walking up to find herself alone, as always.

She wanted him. She needed him. More than she needed her next breath...

She gasped as she felt his lips against her's, wondering if this kiss was yet another daydream of her's. When she was sure, however, that this was in fact reality, she immediately gave into the kiss, reveling in the sensation. Her hand made it's way to the back of his head, where it tangled itself among his raven locks. as she gently deepened the kiss, though there was a strong undertone of need and love in the affection, fueled by pent-up, formerly hidden emotions.

His lips were not as soft as she had imagined, but softer. He was so gentle, yet at the same time... passionate... with his affections. However, the thought of it thrilled, yet frightened Elektra. What if his actions were merely caused by reflex, or were not meant to be interpreted as Elektra has interpreted them?

The thought and burns of reality scorched Elektra's heart and flesh as she broke away from the kiss in a panic. She rested her forehead gently against Iago's as panic illuminated her features, accompanied by tears beginning to well up in her sapphire orbs. "What dost thou mean by it, Iago?" she whispered as a few tears managed to make their way down her pale face.

Had she risked it all, opened her heart and soul for nothing? Had she ruined the best friendship she had ever had in a fool's hopes of making a fool's dream come true?

A smirk twisted Iago’s features at her playful addition. “You burden me not, nor ever could you,” he replied automatically. He did not immediately comment on his stay being pleasurable or not, what with having just arrived, and to be honest he already considered his stay pleasurable. “Milady, my stay has only just begun and already it is a pleasurable one,” the sorcerer commented finally, working a bit of playful wryness into the nonetheless sincere words.

Iago reacted neither favorably nor unfavorably to her initial enthusiasm, but did nod pensively at the rephrased sentiment. “I shall consider it. T’would be fathoms easier had not I a Baron insistent upon pestering me at every waking moment. I gladly welcome the day Danothos is finally rid of him... preferably by mine own hand,” he replied in little more than a murmured whisper. It was not wise to discuss the demise of one’s lord too openly, even for a sorcerer such as he.

Elektra’s curiosity at his statement peaked his own. It wasn’t anything about his features that indicated his mutual curiosity, but the angle in which he was holding his head. It was tilted to the side slightly. However, the expression vanished upon her whispered statement to be replaced with a vague but genuine smile. By the new lines creasing to perform the expression, Iago rarely smiled in such a way. In fact, the only living person to ever receive a smile of any authenticity at this moment was indeed the woman before him. “Nor for mine,” the sorcerer replied in the same quiet tone. It would have tasted a lie to his mouth if he had thought Posol had anything to do with Iago’s being here. After the scuffle he’d witnessed between the late Duke and his wife, Iago held very little genuine respect for Posol. The scene he’d been witness to that day reminding him of the stories he heard tell from his adopted father, Tobiah, about Baron Yorick.

Iago observed her caressing of the roses, and couldn’t help but imagine the same soft touches upon his skin. Giving himself a mental shake caused the notion to dissipate. The sorcerer nodded with a smirk, glad to hear such a declaration from her. As the tip of her finger snagged on a thorn, Iago belatedly realized he should have plucked the thorns from the stem. He reached into his pocket for a black kerchief, and offered it to her for her wound without finding it necessary to say what it was for.

The gasp from Elektra as their lips met excited and startled Iago, but he refused to back away. For the briefest of moments the sorcerer thought the gasp was one of refusal rather than its true meaning. However, he learned just how wrong he was in that assumption as she clearly reciprocated the action. The feel of her fingers in his hair was... well, he wasn’t sure what it was but he knew he didn’t want it to end. The hand cupping her chin caressed her cheek and soon found its place cupped at the back of Elektra’s head and neck. As the kiss deepened by Elektra’s doing, Iago eagerly followed. He could strangely sense through this contact what she wanted, what she needed. A part of Iago not so deeply buried within himself wanted to reciprocate in full and take things to the next step. He wrapped his free arm around her waist...

It was Iago’s turn to gasp when the kiss was cut short, dark eyes flinging themselves open to see Elektra gazing back at him in panic. He gently pressed his forehead to hers in a kind of head-only embrace. The sorcerer blinked at the question and tears in surprise. No answers came to mind that he comprehended enough to respond with.

What had he done to make perhaps his only true friend cry?

“I-I’m not certain how to explain...” Iago murmured, reaching up with both hands to wipe away her tears and adding in a soft whisper, “I mean not to cause thou to weep.” How was he to explain his actions? She was so close, and since befriending her had he not in some way craved her? A kind of reflex based on an instinct and desire, but not at all lightly performed. Iago knew the implications of kissing her; that such an action and deepening the passion within said gesture would serve to change their friendship into something... different... forever.

Dark passion danced like flame in the eyes of the sorcerer. “I do not ask for pardon, unless my actions have displeased thee, for I regret it not,” Iago stated in a voice filled with a previously unacknowledged emotion, a tone he’d never taken with another. Even the women of his past never heard such affection from him. The sorcerer leaned closer for to whisper into her ear, “I do not offer affections – in falsehood nor truth – without them possessing the meaning to which they are meant for. And I swear tis not the former, but the latter variety, that lingers upon thy lips now as we speak.”

It was about as close to an ‘I love you’ as he’d ever stated before in his entire life.

Feeling slightly braver by Iago's statement regarding pleasure, Elektra couldn't help but flirtatiously reply with a light, seductive undertone "Indeed? In that case, I can only hope that thy pleasure shall reach the heavens of contentment and happiness, for to see thy happiness, grants me my own." A slight pause of hesitation ensued as she debated whether or not adding to her statement.

"Though I must confess... all pleasure I accumulate from thy presence shall fade into sorrow when the dreaded day arrives for thy to leave and return to Danothos once more..." she admitted quietly.

Her bolder attitude dimmed slightly, however, upon noticing Iago's neutral response to her excitement at the prospect of him staying longer. Her mind immediately perceived it to be Iago's way of politely dismissing the notion, causing a slight pang of pain to reverberate through her, though she forced herself to ignore it. It wouldn't do for Iago to see her tearing up at every moment of being denied. Instead, she quickly regrouped, summoning her infamous mask of neutrality, in semi-mode to at least cloud her whirlwind emotions and make herself look a bit more respectable than a heartsick cretin.

"Indeed. Know, however, dear friend, that thou shall always have an ally here in Azazel." she smiled warmly before adding. "Granted, tis unlikely thou shall ever need it." Or desire it...

It was a dangerous position, she knew, to place herself into such vulnerability and weakness that she would risk her very life and future for the sake for another. Elektra could only imagine the look on Count Fersen's face should he learn of her willingness to place all she had worked for into jeopardy for the man she loved, yet she was in no mood to care or truly think of the repercussions. There'd be no white flag upon her. She was in love, and always would be.

The smile that appeared upon Iago's face, quite literally, took her breath away. Despite their close friendship, it was rather rare for her to see a smile of that caliber grace his handsome features. Sure enough, a brighter smile, one she reserved solely for Iago appeared on her features. Although technically all her smiles were Iago's as very rarely was anything else able to bring a smile upon her face, this one was rather more... intimate... if a smile could be such a thing. She was pleasantly surprised to hear such a thing from Iago, and could only smile in response.

A light blush tinged her features once more, again from embarrassment, as Iago handed her a kerchief. "I thank thee." she replied shyly, cursing herself for her clumsiness as she dabbed at her wound lightly to staunch the bleeding, holding it in the same hand she held the roses.

The sorceress reveled in the sensations the wizard invoked in her: the tenderness of his caress, the loving yet passionate movement of his lips against her's, and the comfort and solace she found within his embrace. The moment she pulled away she wanted nothing more than to reconnect with Iago, take in all he offered, like a winter lily, basking in the welcomed icy aura, blossoming from it after being denied for so long.

Yet the same fear that seemed to walk hand in hand with happiness, kept her rooted to the ground.

Sapphire orbs closed as she savored Iago's touch as he wiped away the tears that had fallen. As he did so, Elektra to tilted her head slightly to press a light kiss upon one of his wrists as she listened to his words. The passion she saw burning within him thrilled yet frightened her, yet more so the former. She inhaled softly, shivering with delight from his whispers, as more tears forming at what Iago spoke, only this time, not tears of fear and potential pain, but instead tears of relief, joy, and love, with a slight hint of disbelief at what was occurring. Surely this had to be a dream...

In silence, Elektra stared into his obsidian orbs. Absentmindedly, she vanished the roses and the kerchief safely within her rooms. With her free hands, she tangled one hand into Iago's hair, while the other rested gently against his cheek. Tenderly, she caressed him, tracing his features whilst staring into his eyes. Not knowing any words in any language to describe all the emotions she was feeling, she did the only thing she could do: she kissed him lovingly, deeply, and gently, trying to convey as best as she could, all she felt for him.

Iago smirked at the flirtatious reply with obvious approval. He wasn’t certain about such things being able to reach the heavens, but Elektra’s presence at his side certainly made it very close to such a standard of contentment. “As shall mine when the time comes to return...” the sorcerer confessed in reply, barely above a whisper. “I shall stay for as long as I can get away with, or until Danothos guards come to fetch me.”

“And thou shalt always have an ally in Danothos... A true ally I had not until meeting thee, so thus I shall make need of my desire for an ally if nothing else,” he said earnestly, a faint smile upon his lips and his voice. Whereas his Baron and the Duke had gotten along well, so too now did the nobles’ sorcerers. Or rather, sorcerer and sorceress...

Seeing the return smile – one he’d rarely seen upon her face but hoped he would see a lot more of in future – only cemented his decision to stay for the absolute maximum duration he could get away with. Iago would risk whatever punishment his Baron and father deemed worthy, in the event it came to that, to be with Elektra. He personally knew it wouldn’t be a lethal retribution, for without him the Baron would expire. While Iago wasn’t certain there could be intimacy in a smile... it almost seemed as though the sorceress before him had achieved infusing precisely it thoroughly into her expression.

Flesh tingled with delight where Elektra’s lips had been. Iago didn’t fully understand her further tears at his words, but she clearly appeared more at ease with this close proximity than when he’d first kissed her. Perhaps words should’ve preceded actions. A mistake he would make sure to remedy in future, if there was need to. If his actions hadn’t ruined all their friendship had built...

Iago sensed ... something... within the silence between him and Elektra. Whether it was tension or a magical charge in the air he wasn’t entirely certain. ’She’s silent... clear indication of disapproval. She is merely humoring thee,’ his mind-voice chided his earlier actions. However, he had to question that thought as she once again ensnared her hand in his raven hair... as she caressed his features... all the while she stared into his eyes, as he stared into hers. Absentmindedly he too caressed her cheek, the hand eventually slipping to its earlier place behind her head. The other hand wiped away the last few tears and lightly rested upon her hip when Elektra leaned forward to kiss him.

The sorcerer met her halfway, eagerly allowing her lips to cover his at the same time his lips sought to cover hers. They felt even softer than the first time he’d kissed her not more than a few minutes ago. Either that or perhaps he’d rushed their previous kiss. Iago wasn’t going to make that mistake again... Achingly slow but steadily deepening, with a surface of gentleness yet a core of passionate fire wanting nothing more than to burst forth and consume, Iago savored this kiss more than anything to date he’d ever savored. He could feel what she felt for him, and couldn’t help but demonstrate the feelings were as mutual as he could muster to show.

Iago wanted her. Iago needed her.
He loved her...
And now, if Elektra were willing, Iago would have her.

“Permit me...” he gasped urgently in an attempt to collect more air before locking lips with Elektra once more. The hand at her neck left to rest at her hip as Iago noticed one or the other of them had shifted so that they were now up against a wall. As masculine lips went to begin a trail of kisses in the same gentle yet passionate manner up, down, and across Elekta’s neck, Iago’s hands dexterously began attempting to unlace the outer corset-type garment around her waist. An impulsive action if there ever was one but the sorcerer didn’t see the need for Elektra to be wearing the added and, if he might say so, unnecessary cloth. Certainly it flattered a few particular features ... but Iago felt no such aids were required for to find Elektra attractive.

A light fluttering sensation filled the Sorceress at Iago's whispered confession, much like a butterfly flickering within her, flickering spark after spark to feed the raging flame of longing within her, torturing her and pleasuring her all at once. She smiled with light melancholy, not at all looking forward to the day when Iago would leave and she would be alone and lonely once more. With firm conviction, she replied, "Should the Baron be so bold as to order soldiers to take thee by force, rest assure they shan't come near the palace. I swear it."

She smirked softly before adding a small insight as to what would happen should any foreign guards attempt to force Iago. "I daresay Azazel would look rather unique with its frozen Danothos Guard decor."

Elektra nodded with a smile, committing his words to memory. It was rather ironic, in her opinion, that while the Baron and Duke were rather good fiends, it appeared that their sorcerer and sorceress had grown close as well. A fact that would certainly have and would have had both Nobles spinning.

Posol had certainly been spitting fire when he discovered Elektra's true feelings for Iago. In fact, it had been his threat to forbid Iago any admittance to Atticus and inform the Baron of all that was the final catalyst, causing Elektra to finally take the plunge and kill the man.

Her heart pounded furiously within her chest, the adrenaline coursing through her. Surely this was all a dream, or perhaps, more plausibly, some pathetic fantasy she had somehow conjured. The idea of Iago possibly sharing her feelings seemed impossible. It wasn't that she doubted his words. Far from it, in fact. It was simply that her past had taught her that luck and fortune was rarely on her side.

However, this was the present. By the looks of it, perhaps the tide was destined to turn, her days of loneliness and longing drawing to a close.

Every aspect, every detail of this moment was burned into Elektra's memory. From the feel of his warm touch, the tenderness of his kiss, to the unfamiliar affection that seemed to lather his words. This moment, this sweet, adored, mystical, paradise moment, would be her strength. It would be her salvation and blanket, shielding her from the cruel, lonely, maze-like world she had been trapped, wandering in for what seemed like eternity.

Knowing that he who held her heart would not forsake it, generously accepting it and her... there were no words to describe it. At least, none that Elektra felt would convey her emotions more than her actions would and did.

She leaned into his caress, closing her eyes at the touch. Often when in her studies or in the library, she would come across a tale of romance, where the two protagonists loved, supposedly, like no other. Their touch and caress would burn and consume them, feeding and depriving them, all at once, into pain and pleasure. Elektra had scoffed at the notion back then. Back then when all hope of Iago ever looking at her the way she desired. Back when the love she felt did nothing but cause her pain and despair. Back in a moment in time the sorceress now knew she would never have to revisit, for now, if only for a moment, Iago was her's.

Eagerly, Elektra gave all that she have into the kiss, showing her emotions, reveling in how they were returned, giving what she had, and taking all that Iago offered, wrapping her arms around Iago's neck, one hand running through his hair, the other leaving gentle scratches along his neck.

Instinctively, she froze inside as she noticed that they were no pressed against the wall. It wasn't the implications of the new position or the advantages she knew Iago now held over her, nor the slim possibility of them getting caught in what others would label as a scandal. She froze due to the plethora of memories of Posol holding her in that position, often with his bony, wrinkled fingers curled tightly against her neck.

However, one crucial difference lay between the scenarios: Where Posol had yelled in rage, Iago whispered in love. Where Posol had greedily clutched, Iago gently held in embrace. And where Posol had struck, Iago had kissed. One was the man who had forcibly taken her hand, in exchange for a dowry. The other was a man who had stolen her heart and held it, and would hold it, forever.

She knew this very moment, what she and Iago were doing, and all they were about to do went against all her upbringing had ever instilled in her, and that Count Fersen would blow an artery should he happen to find out, but she could care less. Being a princess and Duchess had brought her naught but loneliness, whereas being with Iago brought her what she had for so long been denied, what she desired above all, first and foremost: happiness.

She nodded breathlessly in reply as she struggled to catch her breath before she found their lips locked once more. Using one hand to help Iago undo the lacings of her outer corset, while the other gently lead him along the wall, towards the arched entrance of her bedroom.

She broke away from Iago briefly to whisper against his ear a simple plea, "Bring Me to Life..." Before beginning her own trail of kisses from his ear, through his jaw line, before meeting his lips once more.

From this moment on, she surrendered: to her love, to her desires, and to Iago.

Iago couldn’t help but smile in a bittersweet fashion at her words, and the fervor that was within them. He loved being with Elektra more than being in the presence of the Baron. At least with Elektra his efforts were appreciated; Yorick was merely satisfied and made comments about Iago continuing to prove useful. While he understood the Baron’s need for usefulness, and hated the Baron’s guts, in a strange way Iago still sought the respect and recognition he deserved from his father. Whilst he knew someday he would have to return to Danothos, Iago couldn’t help but dread the return home. At least here in Azazel he had a worthy friend. Danothos sported no such being, alive or dead, that he might seek or conjure to relieve the loneliness in his heart. A self-imposed loneliness to further his magical capabilities... a thing that immediately vanished around Elektra.

A smirk and a chuckle issued from the sorcerer at the afterthought. “That it would... Perhaps any surplus might be sent back to the Baron as a ‘gift,’” he replied with humor. “Thy oath I accept, yet with great regret I knoweth I must return eventually if my plot is to have any chance of success. Then I shalt come and go as I please, and return to thee without worry of retribution.”


Though Iago had never read the works of fiction detailing around a romance, he had heard his adoptive sister, Rosemary, speak of them on many occasions during their time out on the street. He had put little store in them, how each and every little thing one did would enrapture the other. Yet, heart slowly increasing in its pounding, Iago was finding every movement of Elektra’s only fueled what was in the passionate flames he already felt. Perhaps there was a shred of truth to the tales after all...

How he wanted to kiss her closed lids, yet held back. Iago did not want to frighten her and give reason to assume he would do something whilst her eyes were closed or back turned. He would cheat and backstab all in this world he needed or desired to with the exception of the Carakleinian Princess turned Duchess. That included taking advantage in such a moment as the one they were in now.

Iago made certain to burn this moment into his memory, for who knows if there would be another? Of course, the sorcerer would welcome such intimacy with Elektra... but their differences in social class would surely interfere with future incidents. Yet with as much as she put into the kiss, it seemed certain that everything was about to change, for Iago was willing to accept what she offered and reciprocate with just as much. Hands on Elektra’s hips, Iago’s mind and body fought between speeding up and slowing down the progress they were making as she ran a hand through his hair. The scratches left upon his neck a perfect symbology of the blend of pleasure and pain that would be felt by him after whatever became of this slowed down to rationality.

Iago felt her stiffen, freezing up at being against the wall, but was so involved in the moment he didn’t realize or ask himself why. True, he now had a distinct advantage... perhaps that was it. Elektra carried herself as a woman that allowed no weakness, a quality he admired in most instances. Was she suddenly worried about the scandal their positions would likely cause if they got caught? The sorcerer was personally beyond such worry at this time, so caught up in the emotions revealed and the heat of the moment.

Then he thought about it... and while he did not cease for even an instant to change position Iago couldn’t help but feel something like guilt for causing her to think he’d do anything like Posol had done. He should’ve known the effect it would have on the sorceress. His only hope was that his continued affections would prove himself greatly different than her late husband. When she did nothing to fight against him, Iago considered his wish granted.

There was no mistaking her nod of consent, and thus one hand reached for to undo the lacings with Elektra’s assistance. Iago’s other hand returned to cup itself behind her head. He didn’t even realize they were moving until she parted from him. Dark eyes blinked at the door nearby in curiosity as to how that had gotten there, for he knew not precisely where they stood in relation to the palace. Elektra knew the area far better than he, so Iago assumed wherever she was leading him would be away from prying eyes.

Her whisper sent a tingle of delight through his entire being, which only increased as she kissed him. ”I shall do ... whatever thou wishes of me, Elektra,” Iago murmured breathlessly in the second before their lips met once again.

Without another moment’s hesitation, Iago followed Elektra into the room beyond the door...


((To Elektra’s Sitting Room and Bedroom ^_^))