A cool morning breeze, scented with flowers and damp earth from last night's unexpected shower, seeped through an open window.
The curtains, usually a still, elegant drape, now danced with a playful abandon, their light fabric fluttering like a trapped moth.
Rays of sunlight, golden and warm, flickered across the polished wooden floorboards in erratic, shimmering movements, painting fleeting patterns that vanished as quickly as they appeared.
The world outside hummed with the gentle awakening of the manor's vibrant garden, a symphony of chirping birds and rustling leaves.
On the large, fluffy bed, draped in silk sheets the colour of midnight, Draco groaned.
A low, rumbling sound that seemed to vibrate through his very bones.
His reptilian red eyes, sharp and piercing even in their groggy state, snapped open, scanning the familiar contours of the opulent bedroom.
The lingering warmth beside him, the faint scent of perfume and something familiar, beckoned him closer.
Letting out a soft, almost purring yawn that revealed a flash of pointed teeth, Draco turned onto his side.
There, nestled against him, was Bahamut, his goddess and lover.
She lay curled in a state of utter contentment, her slender arms and even her tail, latched onto his body with the tenacity of a content koala.
Her face, framed by cascades of silver hair, was buried comfortably against his chest, a soft, rhythmic breath caressing his skin.
Her beauty, even in sleep, was a sight that never failed to make his heart ache.
Gently, tenderly, Draco tried to untangle her limbs from his own.
His skin, usually impervious and rough, softened to allow his touch to be as delicate as possible. He carefully lifted one arm, then the other, but with each subtle movement, a deep, adorable frown creased Bahamut's forehead.
She stirred, a soft whimper escaping her lips, and tightened her grip, her tail coiling around his thigh with renewed determination.
It was an act so endearing, so completely innocent in its possessiveness, that Draco found himself hesitating, a wave of warmth washing over him.
His plans for the day, suddenly seemed distant, irrelevant.
He could easily spend the entire day right here, held captive by his sleeping goddess, and consider it time well spent.
However, duty called, an insistent, nagging voice in the back of his mind.
With great effort, Draco managed to execute a perfect escape plan.
He carefully slid his arm from beneath her head, then, with an almost imperceptible shift, replaced his body with her favourite, impossibly soft pillow.
It smelled of him, a faint, comforting scent that Bahamut subconsciously snuggled into, her frown easing into a peaceful expression once more.
With a quiet sigh of relief and a pang of reluctant regret, Draco finally managed to fully escape her grasp.
Leaving the comfortable confines of the bed, he padded silently across the room, his bare feet making no sound on the smooth, cool floor.
He walked towards the open window, the cool morning air washing over his dark skin, a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the bed.
Lightly, he pushed the curtains further to the side, allowing the partial brilliance of the morning sun to wash over him, and stared down at the vibrant, sprawling garden of the manor.
Now clearly observing it in the full, unforgiving light of day, a fresh wave of annoyance washed over him.
The meticulously maintained flowerbeds were dishevelled, several exotic blooms snapped at their stems.
A section of what had been a perfectly manicured hedge now looked like it had been violently wrestled with, its top flattened and several branches broken.
A small, decorative stone statue of a frolicking nymph lay face down in a patch of petunias, its pedestal askew.
'Ugh, I thought I was careful with my landing last night...guess another chore to the list,' Draco mused, a faint, almost imperceptible plume of steam escaping his nostrils as he scratched the back of his neck in annoyance.
Turning his attention from the terrestrial mess to the celestial clock above, Draco observed the position of the sun, now a bright orb climbing steadily in the sky.
He quickly gauged the time.
It was somewhere between half past ten and eleven.
Far later than he usually allowed himself to sleep, even after a raucous gathering.
"Oh no, got to wake them up," Draco muttered, a flicker of urgency sweeping through him as the full weight of the day's obligations crashed down.
Bahamut and Aasterinian, were supposed to go shopping for the outfits they intended to wear for the party that evening...a social event in Orario, one where their presence, and appearance, would make a significant statement.
Draco, on the other hand, had a monstrous list of tasks.
He needed to sort through a mountain of paperwork he had been putting off.
After that, a visit to the Guild was imperative.
Then there was manor maintenance…..beyond just the garden…..and a few other personal errands before the evening.
In addition to all these, and perhaps most pressing, he had to make up for the ridiculously large amount of money he had squandered from the familia funds in the party last night.
The unintended celebration, a necessary display of generosity to potential allies, had been undeniably extravagant.
The bill, however, was now a rather daunting, multi-zero figure that loomed large in his financial projections.
Thinking of all these things, the gentle, morning languor evaporated.
Draco immediately got to work.
He walked back to the large, fluffy bed, where Bahamut still snuggled obliviously into her pillow.
He gently tried waking her up, his touch light, his voice a melodic coo.
"Wake up, sleepy head," Draco said, his fingers lightly tracing the delicate curve of her cheek, then gently rocking her shoulder.
"Hmmm, five more years," Bahamut groaned, her voice muffled, a cute, incoherent protest of deep slumber.
She subconsciously refused to open her eyes, burrowing further into the pillow, which still bore the faint scent of him.
Draco was more than a little amused at the sheer length of extension she was demanding. Normally, one might request five, ten, or at most twenty minutes of extra sleep time, but here she was, the great goddess Bahamut, demanding half a decade.
'I guess deities are built different,' Draco mused, a fond smile touching his lips.
However, he couldn't let his goddess procrastinate all day.
The shopping, the party, his own responsibilities were all contingent on getting her moving.
So, Draco leaned over her petite frame, his lips hovering teasingly close to her sensitive ear.
His warm breath ghosted over her skin as he whispered, his voice a low, seductive rumble that only she could hear, "If you don't get up right now, my dear, I might be forced to use some rather naughty means to get you up."
And to punctuate his threat, his tongue, quick and agile, flicked lightly, tracing the delicate curve at the base of her ear.
The action was immediate and effective.
Bahamut let out a soft gasp, a shiver running through her entire body.
She squirmed on the bed, her muscles tensing, as she tried her best to resist reacting, a blush creeping up her neck.
Her internal struggle was palpable, a delightful battle between the allure of further sleep and the rising heat of Draco's playfulness.
However, Draco only intensified his actions.
He moved closer, his body pressing lightly against hers, the growing warmth between them undeniable.
He connected their lips in a slow, languid kiss, his tongue delicately parting hers, deepening the embrace until their bodies were beginning to heat up with a familiar, delicious anticipation.
"Still not getting up, huh? Perhaps ramming this hard thing into you will do the job," Draco whispered, his voice husky, his pants suddenly feeling far too tight, quite unable to contain his inner fire.
Bahamut's eyes snapped open upon hearing this, sparkling with mischief and an inviting, lustful grin plastered on her face.
Her arms, which moments ago had been clinging to a pillow, now wrapped around Draco's neck, pulling him closer, her hips arching slightly.
However, the couple didn't get to enjoy what came next.
A sharp, distinct knock on the door immediately dissipated the rising heat, like a bucket of cold water doused on a flickering flame.
Immediately, Draco, with a yelp of surprise, ducked under the voluminous sheets, pulling them high to cover his rather obvious predicament.
He shot a frantic, pleading look at Bahamut, urging her with his eyes to answer.
They both knew that it was Aasterinian at the door; she was the only one currently staying in the manor with them.
Draco's crotch was currently on fire, a painful, throbbing rod, so he couldn't possibly answer the door in that state.
With a hint of embarrassment coloring her cheeks, a charming blush that reached her hairline, Bahamut crawled off the bed.
She took a moment, with feigned casualness, to tidy her cute, frilly pajamas, smoothing down the fabric and composing her expression.
With a serene, practiced smile, she opened the door.
"Morning, Asta," Bahamut greeted, her voice perfectly calm, though a keen observer might have noticed a slight catching of her breath.
However, Aasterinian did not immediately greet back.
Her nose, a delicate, aquiline feature, twitched subtly as she sniffed the air, her sharp draconic senses picking up the lingering scent of rising passion.
A moment passed, her gaze taking in Bahamut's slightly dishevelled hair and flush.
And then, slowly, a knowing, utterly wicked grin spread across her strikingly beautiful face, widening until her eyes crinkled in amusement, much to Bahamut's deepening embarrassment.
"Morning, Bahamut.....Draco," Aasterinian greeted, her voice dripping with playful mockery, her gaze drifting pointedly towards the suspiciously lumpy mound under the sheets on the bed.
A muffled groan came from beneath the silken covers.
"Morning, Asta," Draco replied, his voice a little strained, his lower half still buried in the deceptive safety of the sheets.
"I was just about to come wake you up… seems that was unnecessary."
The lie, thin and transparent, hung in the air, but he bravely maintained it.
"Sure, whatever you say," Aasterinian replied, her grin only growing wider, not believing a single word.
Her eyes sparkled with mischievous delight.
"Ahem, anyway, what brings you here?" Bahamut said, clearing her throat, determinedly wrestling the conversation back to a more appropriate, less salacious topic.
"Well, we had plans to go shopping before noon," Aasterinian said, her gaze alternating teasingly between Bahamut and the sheet-covered lump that was Draco.
"Should I assume those plans haven't changed?"
"Of course not! Just give me a few minutes so I can freshen up and get ready," Bahamut immediately replied, her demeanor shifting quickly from that of an embarrassed lover.
"Alright, then… I will be waiting downstairs," Aasterinian replied, turning to leave.
But then, she stopped, pausing at the threshold, a new thought seemingly occurring to her.
"Ah, right. Some tailor delivered some more clothes for you, Draco. And I will be taking some bread, eggs and sausages from the pantry for breakfast," Aasterinian said, her voice now more casual, though the lingering amusement was still evident in her eyes.
'Tailor,' Draco pondered from beneath the sheets, a brief moment of confusion.
But then, he quickly remembered that he had indeed commissioned some custom clothing two days ago, along with Bahamut.
His draconic features and unusual proportions made off-the-rack garments impossible.
"Thank you, Asta," Draco replied, pulling the sheets down just enough to reveal his head.
"And please, feel free to help yourself to anything in the pantry. Oh, and take the money in the kitchen drawer as your pocket money for shopping… I will replace it later."
Aasterinian was still somewhat new in Orario, and didn't have any money to buy anything in Orario's bustling markets.
Draco had long decided to allocate her some pocket money until the goddess found what she wanted to do for a living.
He wouldn't have her feel indebted or helpless.
"Thank you," Aasterinian said, and this time her smile was genuinely mesmerizing, devoid of mischief, imbued with a radiant warmth that left both Draco and Bahamut momentarily stunned.
Then, with a graceful turn, she left, her footsteps light and airy as she descended the staircase.
"She really is dangerously charming at certain times," Bahamut said, a soft sigh escaping her lips, her eyes still lingering on the spot where Aasterinian had stood.
Draco, finally emerging fully from beneath the sheets, stretched and nodded behind her in agreement.
"Well, she isn't a goddess encompassing pleasure for nothing," Draco added, retrieving his discarded shirt.
"True," Bahamut admitted, turning to face him, a faint smile playing on her lips.
"Alrighty then, out with you, whelp… I need to get prepared. Unless you wish for us to continue where we left off?"
She raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge in her eyes.
"Hai, hai, me lady," Draco replied, giving a mock bow.
The fire in his crotch hadn't quite died down due to Aasterinian's bait, but it was nothing a cold shower wouldn't solve.
Besides, the day was pressing.
He planted a quick, affectionate kiss on Bahamut's cheek, feeling the soft warmth of her skin, before exiting her room and heading to his own, which was conveniently located right beside hers.
After taking a bracingly cold shower that successfully doused the lingering embers of his morning desire, Draco dressed in simple clothes suitable for a busy day of errands.
He felt refreshed, his mind clear and focused on the monumental list of tasks awaiting him.
Immediately, he headed downstairs to the kitchen, knowing Bahamut would undoubtedly take a while longer.
Female deities, even pragmatic ones, were rarely rushed when it came to their personal grooming.
As he entered the spacious, sunlit kitchen, the aroma of sizzling sausages and freshly brewed boiled milk greeted him.
On a high stool by the large central counter, Aasterinian sat, her long, elegant tail swishing lazily behind her, like a contented house cat.
She was already digging into a generous serving of bread, perfectly cooked eggs, and plump sausages, a picture of enjoyment.
"Come sit, Draco, I made extra," Aasterinian invited upon noticing his arrival, gesturing with her fork to a plate piled high with food on the stool beside her.
Her smile was easy, completely free of the earlier teasing.
"Thank you, Asta," Draco said, taking the stool beside her, his stomach rumbling in appreciation.
Taking a glance at the portion of food on Aasterinian's plate…..which looked like it could feed a small family...Draco couldn't help but marvel, internally, at the fact that she still had the appetite to eat so much.
She and Bahamut had, between them, devoured at least two cows' worth of meat during the party last night, along with barrels of fine ale and mountains of vegetables.
It was a wonder how she even had the space to eat anything, let alone such a grand breakfast.
His own considerable draconic hunger paled in comparison to the goddesses'.
Perhaps sensing his subtly insulting, if unspoken, thoughts, Aasterinian paused mid-chew.
Her tail, which had been lazily swishing, suddenly whipped out.
It delivered a sharp, playful warning attack, a tap against Draco's thigh.
However, Draco anticipating her mischievous nature, reacted instinctively and quickly.
Before her tail could make contact, his own, thickly scaled and powerful, shot out from beneath his stool, blocking her attack with a resonant thwack.
"Hehehe," Draco chuckled, a sound like gravel rolling over stone, amused by her swift retaliation.
But that proved to be a mistake. Aasterinian, affronted by his chuckle, doubled her effort.
Her tail became a blur of motion, launching a rapid series of attacks, feints, and parries, all while she continued to casually eat her breakfast, not spilling a single crumb.
She even included tricky feints, aiming for his ribs, his shoulders, his head, each movement surprisingly powerful for a playful attack.
To match her, Draco himself had to remain just as casual in his defence, parrying her blows with his own tail, his movements fluid and precise.
The situation quickly devolved into a full-on tail fight, their scaled appendages bashing against each other with astonishing speed and force.
Metal-like sparks flashed with each collision, the sound echoing through the kitchen as though they were dueling with swords, yet both maintained an expression of complete nonchalance, their faces calm, almost bored.
Draco continued to eat his own breakfast, occasionally dodging a particularly clever jab with a subtle twitch of his body.
Their little, destructive fight only stopped when Bahamut, having finally completed her preparations, came downstairs.
The clashing tails froze mid-swing, both Draco and Aasterinian adopting an expression of innocent surprise.
Bahamut, however, was not fooled.
She started scolding them both, her voice stern, for them being childish and irresponsible.
After being thoroughly scolded and finishing their now somewhat cold breakfasts.
Aasterinian and Bahamut finally left the manor, their laughter echoing through the halls as they looked forward to their shopping expedition.
This left only Draco at home, surveying the damage from their impromptu tail duel.
He had to do some immediate repairs.
The floorboards around the counter, though sturdy, bore distinct scuff marks.
Bahamut's eyes, when she'd urged him to fix her kitchen before they came back, had not been joking.
"Sigh, to think this could have all been avoided if I apologized for thinking rudely," Draco mused, bending to inspect the scuff marks, feeling firsthand the absurdity and intricate demands of women, even divine ones.
The day, already stacked with tasks, had just gained another item...a direct consequence of his own stray thoughts.
Such was life with goddesses.
A/N: Sorry, feels like nothing much happened this chapter. I originally planned to progress towards the party, but got caught up writing mundane things, I was already almost 3k words in when I realized I hadn't even made any progress… lmao…..