Dances of Flames

“LOVE!” I swept into the Brown‘s door, cloak and still-damp gown flowing, flushed and heated from my stalking walk home. My eyes were flashing, and I was still struggling to wrap my head around what had just happened during my bath. If anyone knew who that had been, it would be the Brown. He handled most of the entries into the Inn; he must know who the dragon was!

“Mmm?” He leaned back in the chair he was working in to peer at me inquiringly from around the doorway. I could smell the ink he was using-he must have been working-and I felt a bit guilty for interrupting him. I gave him a sheepish grin, and was about to apologize, but the smug, impish smirk on his face removed any incentive I had for that…and now I wore a look of suspicion, in place of the guilt. Two smug males, both wearing the same exact smirk, in one day? I couldn’t help wondering if he already knew what I was about to present him with…but I couldn’t smell the dragon anywhere nearby, so I could not think how he would.

I shook my head. No matter. I spun off my cloak, hung it on one of the hooks near the door and whipped around, ignoring the pointed smirk he gave me when my speed dislodged my dress a bit too much. I put my hands on my hips, eyes flashing, hair mussed, daring him to comment on the gown when I had more important matters at hand. “Do you have any idea if there are any purple shape-shifting dragons in the Inn?”

( Cut simply for length. )

**This entry was written for LJ Idol**

Cool water slipped off my fingers, the scents of many flowers and herbs permeated the air, the sweeping trees rained their falling blossoms on the water and my hair. I smiled, and waded deeper into the cool pool I sought solitude in. This place was healing to me, welcoming after the trial I had just faced. I was clad in nothing more than a light flowing white linen gown, a bathing gown reminiscent both of my Grecian ties and my elvan heritage. I was not modest tonight, I feared no intrusion, and the gown in question scarcely covered my breasts and back, though its skirt was long. The woods of this place had a way about them…rarely did any intruder unwanted by the grove keeper reach their destination unharmed. And so I sank into the pool, breathing in the scents of the place.

As I lay, I braided the night blooming jasmine into some fallen wisps of the flowering weeping tree, and added in sprigs of the herbs nearby, to form a long rope. I was careful with my choices, and it was rare that I took of the plants of this place. I never did so for pure pleasure; I planned to use this rope for a couple who had a handfasting soon to come. And I sang in my native Elvish language to the grove, softly thanking them for sheltering me once again.

A soft chuckle floated through the back of my mind, a rough dusky Irish brogue, and I sent a smile back where it came. My deities usually watched me here. They rarely saw me at peace. I finished my song of thanks, and the rope with it, but started singing again. I was unusually vocal tonight, and I hoped to craft something of it. The works I made here were always unique amongst all their fellows. But I must have slipped asleep in the water, because my song was cut off mid-note when I was jerked awake by the sense of someone unknown approaching me. I was alone unarmed, unarmored, and effectively naked in a pool of water.

( Cut for bulk. )
**This entry was written for LJ Idol**

"Of course some folks end up finding this to be extremely difficult."

I quote Gary, from the week 0 topic post. He may not really know how apt this statement really is.

I am, as a rule, a private, paranoid woman of paradoxes. I am so used to condemnation, discrimination, and betrayal that the idea of a public post available to people with a mere single common tie has me shuddering as if I've had a bucket of spiders dumped on my arachnophobic head. Delve into single memories to form a creation of hopefully well-phrased eloquence? Share experiences that, while private, give only a little insight to myself? This I can do without fear. I can stay hidden in my metaphorical shadows, I remain unknown. But give a summary of my being? Try and explain the complexity that is myself in one general writing, all too easy to set myself up for prejudices, misconceptions, misunderstandings which I may never be able to successfully untangle..even had I the desire? No...oh no. That is a whole new can of worms, and unlike the boy in the book, I don't care for eating them on a dare. And I've heard horror stories from my year of lurking last season, some pieces of my identity may or may not get me persecuted just like the others. But I signed up for this, did I not? 

Curiosity will kill the cat. Nine lives is all I've got, and I've already used up some of those.

I am, first and foremost, a firey, obstinate, stubborn bitch. Or, if you met me on the street, that is likely what you'd think. I am certainly all of those. I am a fire-woman, a fire-dancer. A pyrokinetic shifter of forms, I exude my element. I am passionate in everything about my life. Intense as an inferno, condensed as the core of St Helens, but you'd never know it, never see it. Not unless you could convince me enough to let you find me at the center of my labyrinth.

For hidden I remain, watching and lurking from the shadows, ever waiting. You may never know it's me, flitting just beyond your senses, curious to see whether or not you'll turn to look and see me there. For I am a dancer, a Walker, a tailor and designer, a musician and singer, a healer, guardian, leader, and warrior, and I have scars to bear for this. Each tell a story, if you can read them right, but not just anyone I'll allow near enough to see the words. I am an artist, a creator by trade and nature, one who has paid for the gift, but who would expect me to bring this to the corners of the worlds I do?

Of religion, family, and duty I can say very little. The worlds are simply too fluid to say where one ends and the other begins, and who am I to think I can? They all intertwine and fan out to their own corners of the web. My religion includes my family, my family includes my religion, I have duty and loyalty to the both. These three things are my life, the three places I can focus my passion into, the three places I may prove my worth and use, they are my reason for existing. But I can never truly define them, ever different and ever the same they three remain. 

These words say everything and nothing. They give the seeds to find everything at the core of who I am, and yet they will never be grown if you care not to till the earth and sow them as need be. Best of luck to you all in this season...and for those small few who I may have intrigued enough to set foot inside the door, may you remain ever curious, ever intrigued, and ever well while you tread the winding ways.