The Reborn Witch had a nice 'Tea Time' with the Dragon Queen today-Chapter 42: A Dragon’s Sister, A Witch’s Scowl (And a Bedroom Bargain) (2)

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"Try not to wreck our garden if your family troubles you again, won't you? Rouen could hardly afford two dragons' clash that would have brought down even the sky." Adil closed her eyes as she lectured, not afraid of even the peacekeeper's deadly glare.

"What dealings did you make with her? With...Coriel?" The utter of name was of a bond that was far too gone, the fraying of the edges in her scales sharpening as her claws dug deep into her palms, her tyrant's blood roared at her to tear apart the druid, yet the peacekeeper's duty, and the promise to her wife bound her feet on the soil that once betrayed Lady Adil.

"Coriel...so that's the elder's name. I have made trade with this...Coriel regarding certain materials that would have been difficult to be acquired." A neutral term that spoke of business on the magnitude of a drought washed over the clear voice of Adil, the gaze never leaving the dragon's. "Vampire's dusts. Demon's bonemares. All grounded in the Northern Iceland that Alice has once descended her magic for, and I utilised them to carve the runes of the town, for a....personal vendetta to be put to a good use."

"Your personal vendetta...will only boil the flesh of your people in blood." The seething rage threatened to claw away the druid once again, yet the pain in her palm stormed her mind as she reminded this 'Lady Adil' was an old friend of her wife, a status she would not easily intrude despite the flood of bloodlust threatening to paint the garden red, as this Adil would for her disastrous decision.

"I am aware of my mistake, but truthfully...it is not I who should regret it." A hint of hesitation in the stutter, yet hatred threatening to leak out from the old hag's tone belied years of an unfinished vengance. "Perhaps as you abandoned your home without a glance, you would never cherish it. But I do cherish Rouen, obsessed with this land that was first built upon, a symbol to stand for my rotted hatred for the vampires, as I bear the name of its protector by the time I have long forgotten my sense of self."

"....I destroyed my own home, my own people for humanity so that the histories' follies were buried, not repeated, Lady Adil." Her tone's rage died down, The heating swirling around the peacekeeper stroke her own scaled neck, the vulnerability of the bulged nip at her throat reminded her of mortality for the little giant that sang with plants. She would not kill her, not yet, not when Lady Adil still proved not of malice, but of protectiveness towards her people.

"Perhaps. Allow me to clarify that you have not failed, peacekeepr, but even in the era of peace you brought, this protecter...this disgraced Druid was merely selfish and sunk too deep among the blackened swamp of flowers, as I ever bothered to hide the wretched meaning behind those runes, afraid to break the firm foundings of your peace."

The old hag's stern eyes narrowed, as even among the sea of flowers, one that spoke of a new home, a new beginning, was tainted by the pulsing single rune in the middle, the rune more profound and coursed with more power, as a small but unobvious clearing of grave soil was dug around it, biding the time to escape the coiling stems that crept up on its feet.

If one kneeled before the rune, crawled up with their ear pressing on the dead soil, one could hear a faint whisper, not of a weeping sorrow for the forgotten, desecrated, but of a silent grief that spoke of a bygone era, a mistake that has crawled up to far to carve out.

That longing, putrid gaze did not escape the peacekeeper's notice, as she hummed in annoyance not befitting of her usual playfulness. "Hiding something in your garden, I see?"

"As my whimsy old friend mocked, keep allies close, keep enemies closer. And I never doubt him...well, her in her outworldly wisdom and strength." Lady Adil's calm voice paled as she sighed, before her steady steps walked pass the dragon, leaving behind Adrei with the buzzing in her head as she revealed one last truth.

"By tomorrow night, Manasseh shall come here, and her ashes will serve well for a bygone redemption, hidden beneath the corners of the garden."

The revelation of both her sister's involvement and the rune's materials left the peacekeeper alone with a sour taste, a bitter flavor of piling flowers in her mouth. The garden's whispers grew faint as she fought against her spiraling anxiety, as she turned away from the graveyard that would knaw at its wicked beauty around it, her stride long and purposeful, the moon's glow trailing her like a loyal sentinel, as it did so in the war against the demons, the war that wiped out the vampires, the stamp that would seal Manasseh in her cage of hatred.

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Entering a chamber in the mansion, she found her wife, surrounded by an array of pens and tomes for references. The room smelled of ink and the faint scent of incense, a comforting embrace compared to the aching sweetness of the garden, draping itself around a dreadful existence.

The strokes by the witch's pen on the desk unearthed every detail and tale to what mana craved for, as the witch furrowed further with each story she etched into the seal. The stroke soon became faster, the seal glimmering within the small scroll spoke of a power near completion.

Then, she heaved a deep sigh of relief as she threw her pen aside on the table, her arms dangling on the chair like an exam students finished at the last minute, before she turned towards her husband, finally acknowledging her entry, who has been patiently waiting despite the scorching itch to vent her frustration like a spoiled worker who just returned home exhausted.

"Ah, Adrei...How was your chat with Adil? Did you get through to that stubborn hag?"

A hollowed groan escaped the dragon's throat as her heated scale scorched with the witch's mention of her old friend. "Terrible. There was much more beyond the depths of this town and your old friend, Demond."

Her voice was flat, steadfast with a hint of urgency as she recounted the overwhelming information that was already clawing away at her throat. At first, the witch trembled slightly when she heard a dragon elder was involved. Then a scowl came as she heard of her old friend's resolve for retaining her hatred, and worse is that....rune beneath the garden.

The witch's contemplative glance clicked, however, she realised the distance the frowning dragon took between them, who would have usually embraced her by now. Well...her husband is surely in more distress than her, similar in that the one they assumed closeness to became a rigid flaw that blinded them.

"....Coriel. The elder from the Dragon's council and one of your sisters, how much could you tell me about her?" The witch's gaze deepened, her icy question cracking open the tension that built in the air as it vaporised the overheatedness in the dragon's turmoil. The hesitant Dragon, upon realising her unbefittingness as a husband sighed, as she inched ever closer to her wife.

A moan of comfort sunk into the dragon's ears as her wife eased herself into her chest, her tiny arms wrapping around her waist as her large scaled palm pondered upon her wife's back. A little whine escaped the witch's lips, then as if finding her husband's inactiveness a minor inconvenience, the former old mage sunk her head further, the hat slipping forward from her head, a silent protest to the dragon's silent frustration.

A relief bubbled up from the magma right before the dragon sank into her own tangled thoughts. She sighed, her palm finally landing upon the witch's back before pulling her into a tighter embrace. Even amidst the boundless sea of thundereous realisations, her wife's grumble remained the only anchor that reeled the dragon back.

"She was...an excellent scientist, someone who gifted me the witchcraft formula to resurrect you in the new body you were in, Demond."

Another revelation...right. Demond sighed as her hug tightened, her burrowing cheeks on the large 'pillow', a soft professional for silencing her confusion. "So? Why did one of your council's members do such a thing? I thought you, as the leader, gathered all those old hags for the sake of peace?"

"We did, but I promised the...remaining sisters autonomy, and Coriel was the one who exploited it the most." The dragon petted the witch's white hair, the hair slithering between her fingers, like roots seeking soil.

"Then I assume she runs out on her own or something only to become an evil scientist?" The manga brain from Demond at work, a stark joke compared to the tense family situation from her husband.

"She...well, she is mostly a dreamer bound to her own ideal, just as mine did. A reliable ally against the common world-ending threats, yet a stingy enemy obeying nothing but her stubbornness." The dragon sighed, her arms trembling at the thought of her sister. "That sister....never learned tact. She believes peace lies in whether another creature would grow from either the most restless boredom to the most liberated chaos. Even as she joined my council, she rarely attended with her business to travel and scrape out the 'potential' of humanity."

"A runnaway child chasing her dream so hard, she would burn the wall to let monsters in then." A witch fummeled her cheeks onto the pillow, the uneasiness in the scales lessened with clunkiness, earning her a purr of...satisfaction? Satisfaction in return.

"If only though...if only our ideals aligned, perhaps the ordeal would prove less troubles for us." Adrei mumbled to herself, as the moonlight danced with the room's shadows, the ink's scent melded within the incense's aroma spoke of the two souls that may never be met.

The witch, Demond, looked up at her, the room's tension thickened with each second that tickled by, her eyes searched for something in the dragon's amber eyes. The peacekeeper's sigh grew heavier, the world seemed ever too vast for the centuries-old dragon's reach, and her sister stretched her shadow past the edge of what the Dragon Queen had been used to.

"Alright, enough complaining." Another stretch, however, bumped the dragon's head physically, the witch's tiny fist buried in golden silken head. She glanced down; the icy eyes that met her were narrowing ever so slightly. "I'm tired, and the last thing this man-turned wife needs is a dragon with a headache. Let's sleep, Adrei. Maybe tomorrow we can sort this mess out, together."

Her words, though blunt, carried a gentle lilt that seemed to soothe the dragon's turbulent emotions. The dragon leaned down, her scaled cheek brushing against the witch's forehead, a silent nod of understanding. The nightly glow reminded of the time they visited Leona's cave, the familiar's last tender moment and the promise under the rising dawn.

The path to peace is never as simple as massacring those who oppose you. So for now...before the grand goal of promising a further peace, she would allow herself the comfort of her wife's embrace, the tender touches on her hair, and memories of the kiss for vows they would soon embark on a journey for.

"Ah...right." Demond chortled with her eyes darting, panicking, attempting to further ease her husband, as her cheeks flushed a hint of red beneath her cheeks. "Remember that accident? Uh...the promise?"

The dragon blinked, a chuckle rumbling deep in her chest. Even admist the confusion of the town's threats, and the looming threat under their mansion, Demond had found a way to cut through the tension like her claw through the thickest hide of an orge. She nodded, her eyes reflecting the serene glow of the moon that spilled into the room.

"So...ah, this is absolutely troublesome, embarrassing, and....just, just..." Demond's words trailed off as she began to fumble with the ties of her robe, her thighs clamping together tightly as she avoided eye contact with her husband.

"What is it? As a skilled diplomat, I'm open to negotiation." Adrei's voice was filled with a mix of amusement and curiosity, as she watched her wife's awkwardness.

"Just...right, just turn around. You'lll definitely lose control if I slowly strip down, Adrei. It's not like you can control your...ahem, urges around me." The witch's voice was a cocktail of shyness and rebuttal, the tips of her ears burning like embers in the moon's embrace.

Adrei nodded and turned around, the playful glint in her eyes giving way to a soft smile as she listened to Demond's fumbling with the fabric. The room grew quiet except for the sound of fabric sliding against skin and the occasional rustle of a leaf from the wretched garden outside. The dragon's mind wandered to the events of the day, the revelation of Coriel's involvement, and the sanctity of the promise she had made to her wife, all distractions yet paled in comparison to the warmth that spread through her as the scent of her love's vulnerability grew stronger.

"Alright...ah, why is this so tiring...turn back, Adrei." The witch's voice was muffled by the fabric, a shyness that seemed out of place on a creature who once froze the Tyrant's flaming breath with a single chant. Adrei turned around, her eyes meeting the sight of Demond standing in her undergarments, the moon's glow painting her body with a soft silver sheen. The slight shivering as she hid her chests behind her own arms was not from cold but from anticipation, and utter embarrassment.

A smirk curled up from the dragon's lips as she took in her wife's figure, the white lace undergarment a stark contrast to her usual robe, a tease to the fiery passion that had long been put aside for the sake of duty. Yet, the smirk grew into a gentle smile as she took a step closer, her eyes never leaving Demond's.

"Your modesty is adorable, my love." Adrei spoke softly, her voice a warm caress in the chilly moonlit room. She reached out, her clawed fingertips grazing the fabric, tracing the outline of her wife's form with a careful touch, unbefitting of the tyrant's hunger within her blood.

As if the perverted dragon would allow the undergarment to hide her bareness. The tingly touch grew bolder, the dragon's thumb hooked under the lace, and with a tug, the fabric gave way. A soft gasp was the only sound in the room, as the cool moonlight kissed the warm, soft flesh beneath, revealing the treasure that was Demond.