Hagane slammed his cold steel gauntlet down upon the weaponsmith's counter, his face a mask of rage as he brought his great sword around to point at the man's throat.
His eyes glowed with anger; it was the third time in a week Hagane had stopped by to get his sword enchanted and every time the smith said he was "out of rune stones." Hagane thrust his sword, spearing the shopkeeper through his throat. Withdrawing his blade, the body slumped forward onto the counter before he moved on to the armoursmith.
Nanarie quietly stepped to Hagane's side, placing her hand on his shoulder in the hope her touch would cool his wrath. As she waited for the armoursmith to fall to Hagane's blade, she hoped her delicate touch would be enough to calm his anger. He lowered his sword as he glared at the armoursmith. He sheathed his great weapon and relaxed, his hand rising to caress Nanarie's cheek as he whispered, "Thank you."
She reached up to caress his hand with hers, taking it and leading him from the shop in fear of the armoursmith's life. Hagane moved with her, removing his helmet to let his black hair fall around his shoulders, his hand entwining with hers slowly as he walked with her.
Nanarie led him into the quiet wood, where she spotted a dark and twisted tree, a perfect hideaway. Stopping before it, she turned to face her warrior. Her hand reached up to slide through his silken hair as she leaned closer into him, until his breath was warm upon her cheek.
Hagane exhaled slowly, leaning forward against her attentions. His helm and sword dropped to the ground and his armour moved as he breathed, the smell of fresh blood on his hands. He was always relaxed by her touch; she was his evil queen after all. An evil glint sparkled in Nanarie's eye as his steel made a thud upon the ground. Her hands left his hair to trail slowly over his cold, hard armour. She backed away a step, taking his bloodied hands in hers.
Raising them to her searing red lips, her tongue flicker out to lightly brush his fingertips. Releasing his hands, she leaned toward him, her lips brushing his. He smiled darkly, his hand rising to undo the clips of his band mail, which fell to the ground, leaving his hairless chest exposed. He then undid the clips to his lower armour, revealing his leather pants underneath. Kicking his banded boots off, his hand rose to brush against her cheek again as he smiled at her. "Better?"
"Mmm, much," she growled back at him, her robe suddenly feeling heavy upon her body. Her breath quickened at the sight of his bare chest before her. Her tongue flicked out to sear across his lips, then she pulled back to nibble his neck, her hands roaming over his muscular shoulders. Touching him, she wondered what he might like from her; slow and torturous to cool his temper, or brutal to satisfy his lust.