A.N. I just wanted to thank everyone who has read or reviewed this. I expected maybe 10 people to read it, tops! I feel like my writing has improved with all the feedback as well. My biggest issue now is that I have so many different fics I want to write; It's hard to focus! Rest assured, though, this one takes priority!

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Priscilla stands outside of her home, her hands on her ample hips. Having finished the first floor, she had decided to take a break and admire her handiwork. Sitting down with a THUD, she twirls the diamond-studded ribbon Sær gave her. A saccharine smile spreads across her face as she thinks of what his reaction might be when he sees her progress. He would be so proud of her!

The undead in question was returning through a stroll in the woods. Truthfully, he had been scouting for game, as he had all but hunted every creature in the nearby forest. Priscilla did have quite the ravenous appetite, though it should wane some once she finishes the house. Thankfully with Sær's ability to flit betwixt the bonfires, he could hunt through all of Lordran and beyond, yet still be back in time to give Priscilla her nightly tail-rub. He's quite good at it, and can have her purring and mewling in seconds.

"Hey, friend! Come!" A voice emnates from a dark corner of the shrine. Patches had returned. He speaks as Sær walks towards him. "You will call me a liar, but I saw a she-dragon! Right here! In our own Firelink Shrine!"

"Yes, she's-"

"-Got marvelously large breasts. Quite a buxom figure, too. Ahh, if only she weren't a freak. No offense, friend, but she would certainly pick the great Patches over-" His sentence is cut off by a bare foot slamming his head into the stone. Patches' vision flashes white, the ground spinning.

As his vision focuses, he sees Sær glaring at him, fury in his soul. The hairs on the back of Patches' neck stand up, and his whole body is seized by a paralyzing primal fear. Sær has the look of a tiger who has just been kicked in the snout.

"That 'freak' is who I love more than anyone or anything. Certainly more than you, or your skull." He slams Patches' head into the stone once more. "She is the sweetest, most adorable, and most caring girl I have ever met, and if you open your filthy mouth to slander her again, I'll stuff it full of steel."

There is a gasp from behind him, and he is lifted into the air by his foot. Priscilla brings him to eye level, frowning. No, smiling! Leaning forward, she kisses him hard, rotating and hugging him whilst doing so. "Oh darling!" She says, pulling back. "Dost thou- Do you really mean it?!"

"My do-eth." Sær replies.

She giggles. "Will he be alright?" She asks, pointing to Patches with her tail.

Sær shrugs. "Sure. Would you like me to make dinner? You must be starving after all your hard work."

"I finished the first floor hours ago," she replies. "And I finished making dinner just now."

"You did?" Sær exclaims. "You're amazing!" He wraps his arms around her neck, nuzzling his cheek against hers. "Just another reason I love you."

"How many reasons are there?"

"Can't count that high," Sær replies, his voice muffled. He had pressed his face into her fur and proceeds to cuddle her viciously. Priscilla sighs happily and turns around, her tail smacking a very dazed Patches.

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Back in their newly finished home, having just finished dinner, the couple is embroiled in a fierce display of affection.

Sær and Priscilla are making out.

Priscilla- shy, inexperienced and strong- tentatively puts her hand on his chest, caressing it. Sær- unsure, caring, and brave- gently urges her on, cuddling up to her whenever she grows nervous. Her heart is beating so fast that it vibrates Sær.

Pulling back, he caresses her cheek, planting kisses along her scaled neck. "You don't have to do that," she mumbles. "Normal girls don't have them."

"So?"

"So they're odd."

"...So?"

"So, they're not pretty. If a human girl had four eyes, o-or scales, you would be repulsed."

"I love your scales," Sær says. "They're bright, colorful, cool, smooth to the touch, and they make you like me."

Priscilla cocks her head, puzzled. "Like you? how?"

"Immortal," Sær replies. the whole reason your fa- why Seath captured you was to gain immortality from your scales."

"I'm... Immortal?" She whispers. "But... I age. I came to Ariamis as a young girl."

"When did you get your scales?"

Priscilla closes her eyes in thought. "I grew a few when I was one-and-five... But my whole neck was covered when I was finished growing, at one-and-eight."

"See? The scales of dragons are only complete at adulthood. Other wise, they would stay young and vulnerable forever."

"Immortal..." She whispers, stunned. She puts her head in her hands, blushing furiously. "We can be together, always..." She whispers.

"Hey, hey, focus on the present, please!"

"Huh?" Priscilla lifts her head, allowing Sær to steal a kiss, smiling against her lips. Gently repositioning himself, he pulls her head forward so that he can kiss her harder. Moaning, Priscilla lets out a frigid breath... Literally. One of her most powerful magic abilities she is granted by her dragon blood, Frost Breath, spews from her mouth as she exhales. Her eyes are unfocused, her magic abilities temporarily forgotten in a haze of pleasure.

The frozen mist washes over Sær, traveling over his skin and into his lungs, chilling him to the core. Priscilla focuses her eyes, confused. "Darling? Why did you stop?"

He doesn't answer, instead opting to bury himself in Priscilla's sizeable chest, covercovering himself with her tail to warm up and thaw.

Sær sighs. Most men have to deal with their woman occasionally being frigid, but this is ridiculous.

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A.N. Soon they will travel back to Anor Londo... But why?