Timeless

Adventuring through twisted time.

Libelle wasn’t often one to go into the town, yet she found as the years had gone on her girls worked hard for her. The least she could do is go get things from the market when they were in between deliveries. Today was that day for her, she was often up with the sun habit really. She liked the warmth, she grew up in Australia where the heat seemed to never weaver. So she often could be found basking in it if she wasn’t cooking or working. Yet today would be different from normal as she put on her most respectable outfit. After all she didn’t plan to run the town half naked like she did in her brothel. She found herself walking the streets in the early morning sun just as others came from their homes to start their days. She paused in the middle of the street for a moment turning her gaze to the warm sun as he beat down on her tanned flesh. Taking a deep breath she got to work on her list of items she needed.

She had an Aura around her one that would make anyone run from her. It was just a curse part of being a drake. She had gotten used to it though, She used it to her advantage. As she walked from store to store she would smile at the people and they seemed more than willing to part with goods at a less than posted price. It made her chuckle to herself as she walked the streets how so many people feared her. Yet if they got past that aura they would see how utterly truly broken she was. Belle had gotten lost in that thought for a moment before shaking her head back and forth quickly no, she wasn’t going to think about Roderick. She hoped he earned everything he deserved. Letting out a frustrated sigh she took her goods and carried them back to the Brothel.

Once there she got to work opening the place. She made breakfast for those who stayed the evening, at a cost of course. She was busy making meals and pouring drinks she hadn’t noticed the day go smoothly. She undid the corset of her dress which caused her breast to fall slightly from where they had been held as she yanked down the sleeves so that she could breath better. Her eyes moved around the Dragon Lady; she knew most of the people there. After all, once some men got a taste they couldn’t stay away. The thought brought a slow smile to her face as she thought on that before she looked to the door open.

Someone new. Someone who didn’t look the type to hang around in a brothel not with how good looking he was. She moved to the bar and picked up a mug. “Come for a drink? Or a lady?” She called out to him with a coo in her gentlest of voices she could project his way. Wondering if he was scared to be in a brothel. “First time?” she asked as she poured a mug of ale. “If so first drink is on the house.” she smiled towards him slowly.

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The wicked Wind runs cold those of Its people who fight it when it blows.

Vega had no place to go since this little spat with Libelle. Except for a cold cot in the corner of the storehouse of his former boss, Ol’ Calico Jack. The old man only wished he could give Vega more. But this was as good as any for a Gypsy. It kept him dry as the rain poured down and rose the tide. And he could keep himself warm enough on his own. It helped that the guard dog who protected the liquid gold throughout the night loved Vega and would stop and curl up with him for a second or two.

But the WindWaker couldn’t sleep. So, he lay here alone with his woes.  Until the breeze crept in. Sliding down his spine. Gyrating into his soul. Chilling him to the bone. Drawing him into the fray. Yet he didn't answer. He refused The Wind’s call. Tired of being blown around like a feather. Never ending. Never seeing his mother and that side of his family. Never making a connection long enough to matter to people. Always losing the prospects of mattering the moment The Wind blew him away.

Woes only a WindWaker knows.

Tried as he might, but he couldn't win against The Wind. It hoisted him. Dragged him through the sky. The moon and stars hidden behind the heavy rain clouds shaded Vega in their darkness. Soaking him to his bones. And so, through her window, he flew. The Wind so kind enough to open it first. The loud and clumsy thud came right before his groan. A minute passed until he realized where he'd landed. 

Vega jumped to his feet. Slipping for a moment from his drenched boots. It took another minute to find Libelle. Who was still looking for her ring. The ring The Wind wasn't ready for Vega to see. It wasn't time for that secret to be revealed. Much to their oblivious dismay. Coyly tucking her ring away in her jewelry box for safekeeping. To be found by her later in a sober state. He was a proud man. But he wasn't above being humble. And before all else, he was a gentleman.

And so with a huff, he moved to help her. “What are you looking for, Dragonfly?” Forgetting for a moment he likely couldn't call her that anymore. But he stilled when she fought him. Recoiled from her and allowed her to beat on his chest. And everything else as he just stood there.

Until he caught her wrists. He could smell the liquor on her breath. And truthfully, she could break free of his grip with ease. She could overpower him like it was nothing. Yet, he still attempted to stop her. “If you keep this up you’ll be sick by morning.” Said the man dripping from head to toe. He could have easily said she was hurting him. But he didn't. Instead, he struggled to pick her up since she was stubborn. And carry her bridal style to her bed.

Jeovani was gentle where Libelle was rough. He laid her down on the bed softly. When many men might have just tossed her on it. He found a pitcher in her room and sighed in relief after smelling it and finding it was just water. He poured her a glass and set it on her bedside table. Retreating to a chair nearby after closing her window. He rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face. Clearing the water dripping from it as he then ran his hands through his equally soaked hair. “We can fight when you're sober if you wish. And you can even proceed to throw me out then. But I'll worry too much to leave you in this state. So please sleep it off. I'll be here for you to beat up in the morrow.”


✧ Familiar Face ✧
Libelle was in a fit of frenzy, her movements sharp and frantic as she rifled through the contents of her side table. She was searching for the ring, her precious ring, which she had illogically tossed across the room in a moment of rage. The sudden presence of another went unnoticed until his voice, soft yet commanding, broke through the storm of her thoughts. Startled, she whirled around, her eyes blazing with the fury she felt towards Daniel, only to see Jeovani standing there, dripping wet from the rain. His soaked appearance triggered a flood of memories, reminding her of Daniel returning from his shifts on the ship deck, drenched and weary.

"Bastard!" she cried, her fists pounding against Jeovani's chest and shoulders in a flurry of anger and confusion. Her words were slurred, a chaotic mix of accusations and emotions spilling from her lips. Despite her struggles, Jeovani's firm grip lifted her effortlessly, her wriggling resistance pausing as the chill of his wet clothes seeped into her skin when he set her down on the bed.

Libelle's mind was a whirlpool of conflicting thoughts. She watched Jeovani warily, expecting him to drop the façade of kindness and reveal some ulterior motive. Yet, he simply placed a glass of water beside her, closed the windows, and sat in a chair across the room, his actions gentle and considerate. The sight of him, cold and shivering, stirred something within her. She stood, her instincts as a caregiver taking over. "Tomorrow we fight," she declared, her voice softening as she knelt before him.

With a tenderness that belied her earlier fury, she began to remove his soaked boots, her fingers brushing against the icy fabric of his trousers. She worked methodically, undoing the ties of his shirt and laying it out to dry. "You will get sick if you stay in wet clothes," she admonished softly, repeating the very words he used against her moments prior, her fingers threading through his hair to brush it back from his face. "A warm bath, then bed."

Libelle didn't give Jeovani a chance to protest. She stood, slipping out of her dress, her movements fluid and unselfconscious. She led him to the bath, filled with fresh water. Pressing her hands into the water, she used her draconic power to warm it. "In!" she commanded, her voice louder than intended, which made her giggle softly. She stepped into the bathtub, the warm water soothing her as she sank into it, her anger dissipating.

Looking up at Jeovani, she offered him an easy smile. "Join me, Jeovani. Tomorrow we fight," she repeated, her voice inviting and calm. She had slept most of the day since their argument and wasn't ready for more rest. She was a single woman now, free to be herself, to indulge in her desires without concern for societal expectations.

Her eyes roamed appreciatively over Jeovani's body as he stood before her, naked and vulnerable. She shifted, her breasts peeking over the edge of the tub, her expression playful. "Many would kill for a chance to bathe with the Dragon Mistress Onyx," she purred, her tone both teasing and sincere. "Think of it like a bathhouse with strangers if it makes it easier, but you need to warm up." Her eyes softened with genuine concern as she spoke. “Unless you would prefer me to let my hands roam over you to warm you.”

Libelle's demeanor was a mix of strength and tenderness, her commanding presence softened by her care for Jeovani. In this moment, she was not just the mistress of The Dragon Lady Brothel but a woman offering warmth and comfort to a kindred soul. The promise of tomorrow's battle loomed, but for now, she embraced the peace and intimacy of the moment.

Danger.

It percolated through the air and gently pricked the tip of his tongue. If there was one thing a Gypsy could sense more than anything it was danger. Even without The Winds warning they could feel like. Like one could smell moisture in the air before a heavy rainfall. Her confidence and powerful aura domineered over his, the fewer layers they wore. He had no control or power in this situation. With Libelle he likely never really did. Not without The Wind at least. 

Respectfully, he looked away as she stripped. Blatantly aware that he was just a puppet on the strings she alone pulled. 

Tomorrow, we fight…

He winced at the thought. And though he'd been the one to say it. He didn't like how they whispered around the room like an ominous promise. Merely giving a curt nod to acknowledge the sickening words. Yet he swallowed that feeling and his pride as he just listened to her command to get in. His teeth rattled as he did his best to submerge himself in the water's warmth. Suddenly his nose wrinkled and a distasteful look flashed across his face. 

He pushed himself towards her and hovered over her. Leaning in close to her face his hands held the tub's banister at either side of her head. “I will not speak of my many so I will not have you speaking of yours when we are supposed to be alone together.” His tone is a deep and low jealous chide as his gaze steadily holds hers for a moment in silence before he returns to his side of the tub. Never put his hands on her because not only did he know better unless she gave her consent. 

But she had all the power. 

He needed to be careful. 

But didn't like her speaking about what other people would do, die, or kill just for this moment. He sank a bit further into the water so his chest was fully submerged. “It doesn't help.” He finally spoke again after keeping silent for a long while. “Imagining doing this with strangers. Because all strangers would know with just one glance that I'm Gypsy. And so, all strangers can't be trusted until proven otherwise.” His eyes scanned this side of her room. A vulnerable softness coated his words as they gently danced through the peaceful night. “But…” he locks his gaze with hers. “But I trust you. Dragonfly.” His eyes were soft. Nervous. Caring and remorseful.

“I'm really am sorry.” He wanted so much to say more but he couldn't find his words. “I don't want to fight tomorrow.” He cautiously admits. “I just said it to hopefully calm you down. So we didn't say things when neither of our heads were fully clear. So I wouldn't hurt you more. But if that's what you want or if that's what it takes for you to forgive me. For us to move on and be okay once more than… okay.” He huffed. “Tomorrow we fight. But if it doesn't resolve this rift between us I…” he looked away as he sat up and leaned back against the tub. He ran his wet hands through his hair, slicking it back and out of his face in a more permanent manner. Though he enjoyed it far more when she had done it. Obvious in how he shivered when her fingers touched his scalp. And how he didn't have that same reaction when he did it to himself. “... I can't stay. The Wind won't let me stay if we can't find a way to fix our burned bridge.” 




Libelle's heart raced as she watched Jeovani, his movements stiff and unyielding, reminiscent of her own struggles after that harrowing night when Daniel had saved her life. The memory of how rigid she had felt, how lost in despair, flooded her mind like a winter storm. She had endured pain and healing since then, with only Ruby truly understanding the depth of her scars. Yet, in this moment, as Jeovani leaned over her, his rough hands gripping the edge of the tub near her head, she felt warmth blossom in her chest—a stark contrast to the coldness of the past.

His presence stirred something primal within her. The way he hovered above her, a mixture of strength and vulnerability, ignited a desire to push him back and reclaim control. But then, she heard his words, laced with jealousy that mirrored her own feelings when he had chosen Ruby over her. An involuntary shiver ran down her spine, and she swallowed hard, daring to glance down before whispering, “Then it shall be just you and I tonight.”


Little did he know the power he wielded over her heart. Inside, she battled against the magnetic attraction that seemed to draw them together time and again. The wall she had erected in her mind—the Daniel wall—had been shattered moments ago by the arrival of a letter, forcing her to confront the painful truth of her past. She realized how he had made her forget, even if only for a fleeting moment, the ache that Daniel's absence had left behind. Yet, the scars were still fresh; her heart was fragile, and she couldn't afford another heartbreak.


As Jeovani settled back across from her, she focused on him, her hands instinctively warming the water with her unique ability. When he expressed his trust in her, she felt a pang of disbelief. Trust? She wasn’t even sure if she could trust herself, let alone accept the faith he placed in her. Her gaze slipped away, searching the reflections of their intertwined lives in the shimmering water. “You trust me? Even though all I do is push you away? Sounds a bit insane, doesn’t it?” She attempted to lighten the mood, but the heaviness lingered.


“I don’t trust easily,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. “For me, most only desire a handful of things from me—basic needs.” Her eyes returned to him, searching for understanding. “Trusting you strikes fear in me. Allowing myself to let someone—let you—into my heart.” She felt her shoulders tense, battling the instinct to keep him at arm’s length. He was the kind of man who could sweep her off her feet, and she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, falling into him was the right choice.


“I am opening myself to trusting you, gypsy man,” she said softly, her tone betraying the vulnerability beneath her bravado.


His apology caught her off guard, and as she blinked in surprise, she shifted to her knees in the water. Beads of water rolled down her feminine form as she reached out, fingers trailing through his damp hair, that he pushed back from his forehead. “Maybe we both deserve a fresh start,” she mused, her voice low and inviting. “Being creatures that tend to repel others... perhaps finding solace in each other is what the powers that be intend for us.”


Her fingers danced down the side of his neck, and gratitude washed over her for the alcohol that had emboldened her to speak from the heart. “So no fighting tomorrow, I promise.” She traced her finger over her heart in a gesture of sincerity. “I can’t promise I won’t be a dragon sometimes; I am fickle by nature.” She teased gently, allowing her fingers to trail down his chest, savoring the warmth of his skin beneath her touch.


“Jeovani,” she whispered, her voice a soft caress, “I’m sorry as well.” With a boldness she hadn’t anticipated, she shifted to sit on his lap, feeling the heat radiating between them. “Shall I show you how sorry?” The tone of her voice was velvety, rich with promise and longing, and she wondered if he was ready to cave as quickly as she was, both of them caught in this intoxicating moment together.



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