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The world was dim and fuzzy, to Juneas, for some time. Voices were soft and muffled, scent was ignored, he could feel no touch through the haze of burning pain radiating from the wound in his chest, and he saw nothing--he was too weak to open his eyes. The agony was unrelenting, but it was not getting worse, either, and all he could do was concentrate on his breathing, in, out, in, out... At times it almost seemed too much for him, but though his thoughts were random and fleeting there was one thing he knew: he had to live. No matter how much it hurt, how hard it was to will his damaged, drained body to keep working, he forced himself to go on. The effort sapped his strength so much, and he slipped in and out of consciousness many times, unsure of how long he had struggled, how much longer he would, what might be going on around him... But gradually he felt his strength return, and the feeling fueled his determination until finally he was strong enough to truly, properly wake.

He wanted to open his eyes, but it seemed it was still beyond him... he could hear, though, and there were voices nearby, and some sort of pressure around one of his forepaws.

"...no word from the guardsmen. He may be waiting to see what happens here..."

"You worry about him... Karst is under control, and humans find humans better than I would. I have worry enough for Juneas."

A pause. "It's been so long--"

"He'll pull through. I know he will."

"Yes... of course. After all, his breathing seems more even now, and today's bandage is still mostly white..."

"He's such a strong dragon."

There was a low rumble, and both of them paused again. Then... "Juneas?"

That voice... Asara, beautiful, caring Asara. And that pressure on his forepaw, that was her paw holding his, and she was speaking to King William. He took a deep breath, moaning at the pain--that was that rumbling!--and then, finally, opened his eyes.

"Juneas!" Asara's head appeared in his vision, blurry at first but coming into focus; she was smiling, sitting next to him, squeezing his paw and nuzzling oh so gently at his snout. "You're awake... I knew you could do it."

"Masrra..."

"Shh, shh, don't try to talk," she stroked his neck with her other paw. "King William, bring something from your butchers so he can eat; he needs to recover his strength."

"They knew to be ready to feed him... Garrett, send word to the kitchens and have something brought out at once."

"You're very weak," she said softly to him. "You were so badly hurt by that spear... But the humans were able to extract it, and bandaged the wound, and they say you should be fine, as long as you can survive the first few days... Which you've done so far. Such a strong, tough dragon... I knew you could do it."

"Asara has hardly left your side," said King William, chuckling, though he was out of his field of view.

She nuzzled him again. "How could I have? I was so worried about you... I had to stay with you and lend you what strength I could. I'm so glad to see you awake again..."

He blinked--about all he had the strength to do--and watched her, trying to ignore the constant pain by looking into her beautiful eyes, her smiling face... He wanted to squeeze her paw in return. He concentrated, he did his best to will those muscles to move, to curl up his foreclaws against hers, and after a few moments--he squeezed her paw. Not very hard, but he definitely moved it, and she purred and nuzzled him again when she felt it.

"You stay awake, all right? We have to get some food in your belly if you're going to get your strength back, so just wait a few moments and I'll feed you something..."

He blinked again in understanding. Slowly, as they waited, questions formed in his mind: what had happened while he was unconscious? How long had he been out? Had they announced that they had captured Karst, had there been any sign of Elric or what remained of his soldiers, was Karst behaving, had anything unexpected happened... But he couldn't concentrate enough to ask those questions, so he just lay there until food was brought to them.

"Oh, thank you... even carved up already, perfect. I will feed him," she said eventually, and the smell of freshly slaughtered beef drifted across his nostrils. Asara shifted to take some of it, and he saw her free forepaw--she was still holding his paw in hers--come towards his snout, a little morsel of meat held in it. "Open your mouth, Juneas... Come on, open your mouth a little. You can do it," she smiled, when it took him a few seconds to focus hard enough to spread his jaws apart. "There you go," she pressed the morsel in. "Now chew and swallow..."

Slowly, achingly, he chewed, moaning softly at the taste of the food on his tongue... not realizing until that moment, thanks to the pain burning through him, that he was so starved. The taste and texture of the meat encouraged him, and after another few moments he swallowed the piece. Asara already had the next bite ready for him, and he accepted that as well, slowly working through the meal that had been brought for him, already feeling a bit of strength returning, and when all the beef was gone he rasped, "water..."

"Yes, yes, of course, they have a trough here for you already. Do you think you can raise your head?"

He blinked, then took a deep breath, winced, and finally picked his head up off the ground. Asara nudged the low water-trough into place in front of him, and after stretching his jaws for a moment he dipped his head and began to lap up the water. It felt so cool and refreshing slipping down his dry, aching throat, and he slowly but surely emptied the trough, giving a little sigh of satisfaction when it was empty, his hunger and thirst sated. Then he turned his head to look at his chest, saw it all covered in bandages, some white, some tinted red...

"Such a strong dragon you are," Asara purred, and nuzzled him. "Does it hurt?"

"Yes..." he said, a bit of the usual resonance returning to his voice, but it was still so soft, and the concentration it took just to speak...

"Don't try to move... don't push yourself. There's nothing going on you need to worry about, so just put your head down and rest..."

He wanted to ask questions, but she just kept urging him to sleep again, and years of obedience took hold after a moment. He sighed and put his head down again, eyes closing... She's right, he thought absently as she squeezed his forepaw, I'm tired anyway... And before long he was unconscious once again.

Much of that first day back passed in that fashion. Juneas slept for a time, then woke, drank and ate again, then slept, then at sunset woke and ate some more, beginning to feel a little stronger but still too weak to try to do anything, and Asara kept telling him not to try to move, that the wound would heal best if he kept still... He wasn't sure he was ready to anyway, as even lifting his head or tailtip took so much effort, let alone attempting to stand. Asara stayed with him throughout, always there, always holding his paw in hers, nuzzling him and stroking his neck and giving him whatever support she could, whether that be feeding him, supporting his head if he grew tired, or even digging a little pit beneath his hindquarters when he needed to clear waste.

On the second day he slept less and ate more, able to curl and uncurl his tail more easily now, and to hold his head up for a while without growing tired; the pain even seemed a little easier to cope with, though it was still there, and it burned harder than ever if he tried to shift his left wing or foreleg. After his noontime meal he didn't feel ready to rest again just yet, and it was then that one of the surgeons came to speak to him.

"I'm glad to hear you've been up, and eating well, dragon," the man said. "How do you feel?"

He groaned. "Weak... and tired, and it hurts, especially when I move my leg or my wing."

"As could only be expected," he nodded, then gingerly pressed his hands to the bandage, checking the area for more bleeding, or perhaps heat, or maybe the progress of its healing... "We had to make an incision into the muscle, widen the opening, in order to remove the spear safely, and even then it had done a fair amount of damage already. But we were able to remove it without severing the muscle entirely, and none of the tendons or ligaments in the area were torn, so we all agree that you should fully recover from the wound. We can't be sure though, being unfamiliar with how your species heals, or how quickly, and as I'm sure dragoness Asara has told you, you must keep still in order to allow the muscle to heal."

"Thank you... I will do my best."

The man paused for just a moment. "And yes, we did all think that you will recover fully; so long as you do not over-exert yourself during the healing process, you should be able to walk and fly again without any pain."

That made Juneas stop, and look at the wound, and his wing and foreleg, himself. He hadn't even begun to consider what the injury could have done to him long-term, and to hear that it would not be a permanent issue relieved some load on his mind that he hadn't even realized was there. "I am glad to hear that," he smiled a little. "Thank you."

"Of course; thank you. I wish you the best of luck in your recovery." The man bowed to them both, then went away again.

"You'll be fine in a few weeks, I'm sure of it," Asara said softly, and nuzzled him again.

He purred in return, and turned his head to nose at her neck for a moment. Then he looked around and said, "what happened since we returned? Have you heard anything from Elric?"

"No, we haven't... It's been four days since we captured Karst, and we announced that we had him soon after returning and that Elric has a week to appear and surrender, but he hasn't yet. King William thinks he's waiting to see if he can learn if you're going to recover or not before giving himself up or trying to rescue Karst, but now that you're awake and eating and getting stronger, we hope that he'll give up soon."

"And what about Karst?" he looked around again, sniffing the air for the other male's scent, but he couldn't quite place it nearby.

"He's staying in your cell... shackled and bridled, to make sure he behaves, and to make it harder for him to be rescued," she chuckled. King William has spoken to him some, from the other side of the bars, to try and figure out where Elric might be hiding or whether or not Karst thinks the human would surrender now that he's been caught. He seems really loyal to that human, though... He wouldn't give us a location, but he says that the man should surrender by the end of the week, or at least he hopes so. He doesn't think he could stand a chance fighting with half his force and his dragon gone, and just wants them to survive this and be together..."

"But what incentive does Elric have to surrender?"

"King William chose to decree that if he gave himself up by the end of the week, he and his followers, and Karst, would be exiled. But after that week ended, they would be tried as traitors, and likely executed, when caught... though he doesn't think he has the authority to execute a dragon, which is also why he didn't threaten Karst's life to get Elric to turn himself in."

He growled softly. "I suppose he's right about that... He can let us, or let you, deal with him by our own customs. What do you plan to do with him?"

Asara sighed and looked towards the cell. "If Elric surrenders on time, then he will be exiled with him. If he doesn't... I will have to hold him until Elric is found, and likely until after he is tried. but after that, I don't know. Send him away somewhere, I suppose..."

"That would be best. All he has done is lost a duel; that is no great crime to punish," he said, then looked away himself--considering that he was being punished, for a much greater crime.

She either didn't notice or didn't want to react to it, for her grip on his forepaw did not loosen, and she said, "yes, you're right," softly.

Then both of them were quiet for a little while; Juneas looked around the grounds of the castle, mostly quiet and empty, then up at the clear, pretty sky. Eventually, though, he felt Asara's eyes on him, and he returned her gaze, head tilted a little to one side, trying to read through her guarded expression. "What?"

"I--" She looked at the ground between them, then back up at him, and continued, "I've... been thinking, since we defeated Karst and those soldiers. When I dueled him, when I was able to get control and then defeat him, I felt... strong, again, in a way I haven't felt in so long-- Not since before I was in your dungeon," her tail twitched, and her eyes shone with tears for a moment before she blinked them back. "I remembered then how wonderful it can feel to be strong and confident and powerful, sure of your abilities and your place in the world... And I relished that feeling, I enjoyed it so much, and I didn't want it to go away. But whenever you're around... I can't. I can't feel that way, because I see you and I think of what you've done to me, and all that strength and that confidence just drains out of me when I remember what happened then..."

He lowered his head, and squeezed her paw. "Asara, I am so sorry... If I could go back and undo what was done--"

"I know, Juneas," she said softly, but firmly. "And then I thought, if I want to feel strong, not have to worry about that confidence leaving me, then I have to deal with what is making that happen... and that is you. And if you are what makes me feel weak, if you are preventing me from being the proud dragoness I can be, then I have to do something about that."

Juneas drew his head back just a little, feeling nearly frozen, not sure what she meant by this, or what it could mean for him and her, not wanting her to go on but unable to interrupt...

"And if every time I'm near you I feel weak... Then the way to be strong is to send you away, so I don't have to remember what you did to me anymore."

He could only gape at her in disbelief. No... No, he could not leave her, he could not go the rest of his life without seeing the dragoness he loved, he could not-- If it would make her happy again, and strong again, then he would, even if the thought made him feel on the verge of tears, vision going blurry as they began to form.

"But then I thought... The strong dragoness would not hide her fears and her troubles away. She would confront them, face them, find a way to conquer them once and for all so that she can know that she will never be weakened by them again. So sending you away is not the answer I have sought for so long..." She shifted, and now grasped his forepaw with both of her own, leaning forward, looking right into his eyes. "No. I cannot send you away... If I am to be strong again, then I must truly move on from what you did to me, and there is only one thing I can do. Juneas... I forgive you."

He wept, and wept openly, but it was not from the sadness that had made those tears first form. He had not thought once in all his time as her slave that he would hear her say that to him... Hoped, yes, wanted so badly for her to find a way to do it, but he had never imagined that it could truly be possible for her to forgive him for all the things he had done to her. Head bowed, he shuddered as he cried and squeezed her paw, as hard as he had the strength to.

"For so long I hated you, was afraid of you, was broken by you... But those wounds are finally healing. I have seen you grow from a selfish, cruel dragon into the kind, mature one you are today, and I know that the dragon I know now could never do again what you did to me. I know that if you had the choice, you would somehow make it so it never happened. And having seen you mature, having seen you apologize so many times... I forgive you, Juneas, so that we both can move on." Both her forepaws squeezed his, and she leaned forward to nuzzle him firmly, eyes shut, her own snout damp with tears.

They huddled and nuzzled together for a little while, long enough for the tears to run dry, and then finally Asara broke away with a sigh, eyes reddish but smiling at him. "I wanted for years for that weakness to go away... I think now, it finally will."

It took Juneas a few more moments to recover his voice. "I'm glad that it will... For so long I have only wanted to see you strong and proud and happy again."

"I think I will be, soon," she purred, and nuzzled him again. "And... I'm happy that I didn't have to send you away to do it," she said softly.

"So am I," he returned that nuzzle, then put his head down on her forepaws, she put her neck across his, and they rested in the sun together.

---

On the third day the wound became infected.

Juneas knew first that something was wrong; he woke up dizzy and thirsty, and the pain had increased from the previous evening. There was a trough waiting in front of him, and he extended his head to drink it down, but his body seemed stiff and the world was hazy again, and he seemed to spill more water than he swallowed...

"Juneas, is something wrong? You don't look well," he heard Asara say, her paw still tightly gripping his; he tilted his head, looking over at her, and groaned weakly before getting down the rest of the water. "Tell me what's wrong..." she nuzzled his snout, then flinched away. "You're feverish! Fetch the surgeons at once," she said to one of the humans nearby, who hurried off to find them.

"It hurts more..."

"Shh, shh, the surgeons are coming, they'll figure out what's wrong," she stroked his neck. "Don't worry."

He groaned again, emptying the trough and then putting his head down... He only closed his eyes for a moment, only to hiss and open them again when he felt a lance of pain, but things around him had changed: there were many humans there, including King William, and several men who had removed his bandage and were looking at and touching the wound in his chest, talking quietly to each other while Asara's head hovered nervously above them, trying to listen to their discussion. The deep cut through his scales looked different as well: the area was swollen, reddish and very hot, and at its edge there was an odd off-white discharge that smelled like... He couldn't place it, but he knew that smell meant something bad.

"There can be no doubt," one of them finally said. "The wound is infected."

King William sighed, and Asara growled softly. "What does that mean? What are we supposed to do?"

"Infected wounds are very dangerous if not controlled, and controlled quickly, especially when it's in such a central location of the body," said another. "Ordinarily when presented with an infected wound like this, we would amputate the area to spare the rest of the body... but we can't amputate his chest."

Another of the surgeons nodded. "The best we can do is attempt to clean the wound, drain as much of the pus as we can find, then put on the tightest, cleanest bandage we can manage and hope that it will be enough. But... It's going to be very painful."

"It's... better than dying," Juneas panted, having seen enough infected wounds among his soldiers, long ago, and knowing too well how serious they could be.

"All right. We need a large cauldron full of water, a fire to boil it, and cloth to use as swabs and bandages."

The humans scattered, and the surgeons began to discuss what needed to be done while they waited for the equipment to be assembled--and, once it was all there, for the water to boil. Asara stayed with him, though, nuzzling his snout and gripping his paw as she had seemingly since he landed in that courtyard, and before the water could boil she soaked one of the cloths and draped it across his forehead, to try and cool him down, whispering reassurances all the while. The humans would fix him, he would get better again soon, he'd already made such progress and if only he could stay strong and stay with her, he'd be fine... Her words seem to become more distant the longer she spoke, though, and he could feel himself growing horribly weak again, until he could no longer squeeze her paw or feel it squeezing his, or raise his head, or speak... Before the water could boil, the pain and the disorientation drove him again to unconsciousness.

Once again, Juneas found himself drifting. The world around him was made so distant and hazy by the pain and weakness that had overcome his body, agony throbbing from his chest to every corner of his body and stabbing even more powerfully from time to time. Dimly he was aware that the spikes of pain might have been the surgeons wiping the wound to try to clean the infection away, or cutting away the infected skin and muscle, but any thoughts he had were fleeting and scattered in his addled mind.

This tortured, weakened sleep was not as it was before: his head and tail and his good foreleg shifted the little he could move them every few moments as his body unconsciously strove to find some slightly different position that might ease his discomfort, and he mumbled and groaned wordlessly in reaction to the effort of each movement, and to the pain, and his fevered state. While he had been too weak to dream before, now he dreamed vividly, his mind conjuring disjointed, impossible scenarios that seemed to change and disappear and reappear every few moments, each troubled hallucination forgotten the instant it faded away. It was difficult to realize what was real pain, what was imagined, and what lay somewhere between the two; once he dreamed he floated as if a cloud, cold and stiff and too far away to see or hear or feel anything else; once he fell defeated by an army of faceless, shapeless creatures that slowly and painfully carved him apart, cackling to each other in an alien tongue all the while. He even dreamed of Toma, lying powerless and watching as she sliced open his chest, broke his ribs and pulled out his heart, pierced on her claws... And when he dreamed of Asara, he saw her broken and bleeding at the claws of another dragon, suffering agony so much worse than the pain he felt while he could do nothing to save her from it.

There were few constants he was aware of during his tormented slumber. There was the pain, waxing and then ebbing away in turn but always there, always cutting through his thoughts and dreams; there was the shivering, dreadful chill that had fallen over him, brought on by the fever... And there was the unrelenting pressure around his right forepaw as Asara continued to watch over him. Her presence was an anchor, his one true link to reality, and though it was hard to tell if he gripped her paw in return he tried his hardest to make sure her paw did not stray from his, afraid of what might happen if he lost her touch, if he did not have her strength to support his damaged, sickened frame.

That connection never wavered.

As time slowly dragged on, he began to hear things, occasionally, little hints of the world around him. Once, he thought there were trumpets. Once, roaring, and another time the stomp of boots and the shouts of a nearby crowd. And, once, he heard Asara speaking... talking somewhere nearby. Talking to him.

"Juneas... I don't know if you can hear me," her voice said, low and close by, as if whispering into his earhole. "I don't know if you're awake. I just... I have to tell you. Watching you fight this wound, watching you fight the infection, I've felt so sad and so worried about you, in a way I haven't felt before, and... I don't want you to die. I don't want you to leave me." She paused. "I don't, because... I care about you, so much more than I might have let you know, so much more than even I was aware. I keep wanting to see you open those pretty blue eyes of yours, I want to hear your voice, watch you stand again, see you give me that caring smile you've shown me for so long, but... For two days you've been... asleep, fighting this infection, and the humans aren't sure you'll survive it even though they've been keeping the wound as clean as they can, and whenever they say it I think about you dying--"

Asara made a low, choked, unhappy sound, almost like a concealed sob. "I couldn't bear it, if it happened. Because, Juneas... I feel the way I do for a reason. I forgave you, I wanted to forgive you, for a reason, and I'm sorry I didn't realize it until now, not until you were in such pain, had such a strong fever, on the brink of, of--" She sobbed again. "I love you, Juneas. I wish I could have known that when you told me the same, but I wasn't ready then, I hadn't... understood, that things between us are so different now than they were ten, twelve, twenty years ago. But I do love you, with all my heart, love your voice, your kindness, your maturity, your big powerful body, your strength and your willingness to protect me... And I don't want to lose that! I don't want you to die, Juneas, I want you to be the love of my life I'm finally ready for you to be." Her paw squeezed his even more powerfully. "I know you can do it. I know you can fight it, and be strong, and I know you can get better. I believe in you, my love... and I won't leave your side."

He felt some vague presence, a gentle touch, to his snout, that held for a few moments before breaking away, and then he could feel himself drifting, sliding out of awareness once again... He didn't know what strength he had, if he had any control over his limbs, but he hoped that she could feel it when he tried his hardest to squeeze her paw in response, before the world slipped away once again.

Juneas continued to lie there and fitfully sleep, but now his mind had something to focus on: Asara loved him. Unlike his hallucinations, her revelation was something he fixated on, held in the front of his mind throughout the continuing hallucinations, and the horrible pain, no matter how much time was passing while he was trapped in this state of illness... It was something he needed. Asara loved him, finally loved him as he loved her, and he could not simply let himself die now that she had told him! He needed to get better, so they could be together, so they could share their love, so that she would not see her love taken from her after she'd finally discovered him... He could not let this infection, this horrible wound, defeat him. He had to win, for her, for them... and it was that drive to be with her that kept him going.

His determination rewarded him, eventually, as the pain began to fade from its throbbing agony to more of a dull ache, and the world around him seemed less hazy and distant, he was more aware of his limbs, his position lying on the grass, of what was going on nearby...

"...believe it if I wasn't looking at it myself. His fever's broken, and the swelling hasn't just decreased, it's gone. We managed to clean the wound enough for his body to shake off the infection."

"I knew he would. He's a tough dragon... would take more than a little illness to kill him."

"I didn't think he had a chance. Infected wounds are so hard to stop, especially when you can't remove any of the affected tissue... But then, I'm much more used to human patients."

He heard a deep, rumbling chuckle. "Yes... Of course." It was Asara... she'd believed in his strength, stayed with him, and helped him pull through.

He opened his eyes.

"Oh, Juneas, you're awake!" She was there, sitting next to him as she had for so long, and she gave his forehead a firm nuzzle. "How do you feel?"

That made him pause for a moment... then he raised his head and gave a slow yawn, wincing a little at the pain of such a deep breath, but it wasn't too bad, and he was so glad of the ease of being able to move compared to how weak he'd been at first. "I... Better. It still hurts, but I feel... stronger, now."

"Oh, good! You do seem to have made some progress, even if the infection slowed it down some... I'm just glad you're going to be all right," she said, closing her eyes, releasing his forepaw and wrapping her forelegs around the base of his neck, hugging him tight, pressing her snout to his neck. "I was so worried..."

He leaned against her, purring softly, but something bothered him: "what if the infection comes back?"

"It's highly unlikely," said a human voice, and he looked down to see one of the doctors there. "After the infection cleared up last night, we cleaned it one last time, then, because the internal bleeding had stopped, we were able to cauterize the skin to close the wound. Might give you a bigger scar in the end, but unless there's something still inside you, there won't be any more infection to worry about."

"Yes... Don't think about the sickness anymore, just worry about eating, and resting, and healing," she said softly, nuzzling him again. "Speaking of which, send for some food for him, please."

"Yes, at once." The human left.

"Rrrh... How long was I out this time?" he groaned, shifting his hind legs to get a little more comfortable.

"Three more days. It was... hard to watch, at times... You were so feverish, you kept moaning and mumbling, and for a while it sounded like you could barely breathe... The doctors didn't think you'd make it. I-- I thought you might not live," she nudged him again, eyes shining with tears.

"It seems I did," he murmured reassuringly, and nuzzled her. "I survived, I'll get better, we'll be able to be together..."

It slipped out without his even realizing it, but when she stopped and stared at him he realized what he'd said--and suddenly, so strongly, hoped that it wasn't just something he'd imagined in his disoriented state.

But then she smiled and said, "so you could hear me..."

"Yes... I heard you tell me that you loved me... as much as I love you."

"I had hoped-- I couldn't be sure, but I'd hoped you'd be able to hear me, and I was worried that you might die, and I... I'd realized it, and I had to tell you in case-- I'd thought you were listening, and hoped that I hadn't just imagined that you squeezed my paw when I was done..."

"I tried my hardest to," he pressed his snout to hers. "And your words... they kept me going, my love."

"Mmmm..." She shivered a little. "How nice it is, to hear you say that, and to want to hear it... I love you too, Juneas," she purred, and gave the tip of his nose a little kiss.

The two of them sat together and nuzzled quietly for a couple of minutes, until a couple of humans came with a meal for Juneas. They set it down before him, and Asara released her hold on his neck to cut up the beef into bite-sized chunks to feed to him. He watched her work, then said, "and what of Elric, and Karst? Has the human surrendered?"

"Oh, yes, he has, though I barely cared at the time... It was not long after the infection took hold, and you were unconscious again. They are both imprisoned, but the King will keep his word; the only reason they haven't been sent away is because King William wanted me to be part of the escort, but didn't want to ask me to leave you in such a state. Now that you're up, though... they might be exiled soon. Now here, let me feed you..."

He opened his mouth, jaws spreading wide and tongue extending for her to give him the little morsel. She smiled and placed it on his tongue, then he drew it in, chewed and swallowed. "Mmm... that tastes delicious."

"Yes... I noticed the chefs couldn't resist cooking this one, in case you needed some 'encouragement' to eat," she chuckled. "I think I'll try a bit myself!" She gave him another piece, then took a little of her own. "Oh, wow, that's very tasty! If you didn't need the food, I'd make you share more equally." She gave him a playful nudge, then fed him the next piece, keeping them coming until the food was gone, then moving the trough close enough for him to drink.

"Oh, it feels nice to have a full stomach... thank you," he purred, licking his lips.

"It's no trouble," she smiled. "Now, do you need anything else?"

"No... No, I think now it would be wisest to rest, so I can let my body use its energy to heal," he yawned again, though he stretched his hind legs and tail a bit before putting his head back down.

"Of course. And I will be with you, watch over you, my love... You sleep, and if you need anything at all, you tell me, all right?"

"Yes... Of course, I will," he mumbled, closing his eyes after one last look up at the beautiful dragoness. "I love you."

"And I you," she said softly, nuzzling him, then snuggling against him, the two dragons resting together in the afternoon sun.