-- Somewhere deep within Ironforge a door swung open, giving entry to a room richly appointed with the trapings that only wealth and status could provide - Velvet and satin cloth poured over a huge bed, draping it in luxurious comfort, the simple, dark hues and obviously expensive fabrics giving way once they met the floor to darker wood, waxed and polished until it gleamed with its own internal light, and rare stones inset among the boards, their colors sparkling up, picked out by the light of the huge fireplace. The skin and fur of some giant beast was laid out across a portion of the floor, thick, soft hair stained in faint whorls of the same hues that clung to the breathtaking bed. Across the room, another door sat half-open, leading to a discreet but surprisingly large balcony that overlooked a portion of the Great Forge itself, the radient fire of the always-flowing molten metal providing all the illumination necessary. Books, clothing, a collection of discarded but not forgotten weaponry, and even a few small children's toys were scattered about the room as well, giving it the air of a private retreat.

The elf who stepped through the door was, it could be told at a glance, clearly the master of this domain. Nothing else would explain such a powerful stride, such a confident poise as that within which he walked, such a regal air from one who under other circumstances could be considered far from home. Here, though, he was home, he was king, and he passed without hesitation beneath the carved mantle of the doorway, shutting the heavy steel door behind him with ease, kicking off the intricately-worked and well-crafted leathers that hugged his form as he progressed further into his chambers. The faint sparkle of light off water from another adjacent room indicated that his bath was, as always, filled and waiting for him; the mute whose task it was to ensure that the water was hot on his arrival had also, it seemed, anticipated his other wants, leaving a tray atop a nearby low table on which rested a chilled pitcher of junglevine wine, a platter of barbequed boar ribs, and a loaf of still-steaming fresh-baked bread.

A fw bites cleaned two of the ribs of their succulent meat, a few more sent a thick slice of bread down to follow, and only then did he slide out of the remainder of his armor, the last few leathers carefully unlaced and unbound, shrugged off of broad shoulders and peeled down from strong, yet surprisingly graceful hips, leaving him striding toward the balcony door naked, a goblet of wine clasped in one long-fingered hand. He leaned against the doorway, looking out at the busy scene, aware that no one else was likely to see and enjoying this gargoyle's view of one of the many cities he considered his territory.

"You always look as if you're at a pulpit, staring down at your flock, when you do that. Do you expect them to come pray to you now?"

The sultry voice slid into one long, pointed ear, curled itself within a sudden hollowness in his stomach, settled snug around his throat. Grinning, he turned toward the bed that he'd not bothered to look at in his earlier entry and quick refreshment.

"You know that's not my style. More a puppetmaster, admiring from behind the curtain the way the marionettes all dance."

"I thought I recognized your fingers pulling a few of the strings today."

He glanced around the room, then back at the figure wrapped in his sheets, pale hair fanning out across one silken pillow, his expression one of injured innocence. "I can't possibly imagine what you're talking about."

With a wicked grin the jeweltone sheets were kicked back, revealing the elven body beneath in all its glory... naked, skin glistening in the firelight with the sheen he knew came only from a long, lazy massage with scented oils imported from the furthest corners of Azeroth, eyes glittering with light that somehow surpassed the fire's... and crowning that nakedness, not concealing it, a belt was worn slung low over strong hips, her fingers still tracing the lines of it.

"Come now, you think I'd be given such a pretty little bauble as this and not know whose hand it was who held it out in offering? The great Colere, whose fame stretches beyond our world and into the shadows of a hundred others, who commands armies and sends fear into the hearts of any who oppose him, whose desires can change the course of Azeroth itself..." and here she paused as the powerful form at the window moved toward the bed, arriving beside it at the same moment as he dropped to his knees, that carefully-cultivated innocence thrown aside to reveal a wealth of humor, lust, desire, and strength beneath it, his voice interrupting hers.

"...and as always, Mistress, your faithful puppy, simply bringing one more shiny toy for the Woman who owns him."

She smiled, drawing herself up and sliding her feet off the bed to the polished floor, the smile only broadening as he shifted, prostrate before her, lips pressing a kiss to the soft skin of one ankle, that incredible power for this moment checked, offered to the one person who knew what no other being in Azeroth even suspected.

"Aye, Mine. Such a GOOD little pet. Now come here... if you think even a lovely gift like this is enough to earn you a chance to slack off, you can just think again. I'm still all sweaty from the battle, and before I take advantage of that bath your servant so kindly prepared, I want to take advantage of something else first." Again, eyes gleam, one slender hand, imperious, beckons. "Come here, puppy. Let us see if your tongue has lost its' skill." --