FSE

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Hello, Readers and friends. Welcome to another install-wait...this isn't an installment. This is just a preview. What am I doing? I must be crazy, right?

Well, I think we already know that I am.

Anyway, I've decided to post a preview of sorts of the upcoming installment, which I've been working very hard upon. This is essentially the first five "chapters" of the next installment.

They have NOT been proofread, reviewed, revised, edited, or anything else. So yes, there will be plenty more typos and words then usual, so No, you don't need to mention those. ::Grins:: If you can point out specific things to fix such as switched words or missing words that's fine, otherwise yup, I already know there are typos and plenty of errors.

Most of those will be fixed later when I eventually begin revising it, and begin to use the "Find/Replace" feature in order to fix all the to/too, then/than etc problems.

Obviously...this will contain BIG SPOILERS! And it is only half finished, at most. Certain bits and pieces here and there may be heavily edited in the future, or removed entirely, and new paragraphs, descriptions, dialogue, etc, is likely to be added as well.

I know some of you don't want to look at this until its done, and that is perfectly fine! I also know that some of you want to devour every little bit you can get ahold of.

So, if you want to avoid SPOILERS or you don't want to read an unfinished version...TURN BACK NOW!

Seriously...HIT THE BACK BUTTON! READ AT YOUR OWN SPOILER RISK!

SPOILERS! AHEAD!

UNFINISHED PREVIEW INSTALLMENT AHEAD!

LAST CHANCE TO TURN BACK!

Still here? Then I hope you enjoy. Feel free to leave a comment and tell me your thoughts on the story's development so far. One of the reasons I'm posting this preview-installment is I feel that in something as massive as my DITD Installments have become, lots of the little things get lost, lots of scenes are read and enjoyed that I never get feed back on. So, I'm hoping to hear what parts of this one you really enjoy, for those who read it in advance.

Enjoy, you DitD addicts!

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Alia awoke to the sound of rain. She could not recall falling asleep. The last thing she remembered was holding Valyrym. It was long since light outside by the time the old dragon reached the end of his tragic tale. By then she would have told the Queen herself to get stuffed before she'd put her duties ahead of being there for her friend. She told Valyrym just as much, and then she simply held him a while. By that time the old dragon's tears were spent, and Alia simply shared comfort with him until his breathing lulled her to sleep. When she awoke she was still holding him.

The morning sunlight that shone down through the air vents cut in the rock above Valyrym's prison was gone. In it's place there was only a cold, gray light, dimmed by the rain clouds. The sound of the rain was a steady, pattering rush, like a whisper echoing on the wind. Here and there a few rain drops found their way through the air vents, and dripped to the floor of Valyrym's sleeping chamber. Alia watched the rain a few moments. She almost expected the droplets to be silver. Part of her felt a strange sort of disappointment that they were not.

Alia blinked a few times, still groggy. She doubted she'd slept more then a few hours. She was still pressed against warm scales that gently rose and fell beneath her smaller body. For a while, she'd held Valyrym's head. Then she'd just laid against him, her arms partly around his body with her head against his side. Valyrym had fallen asleep as well. The old black dragon's wedge shaped head was resting against lilac toned pillow with a faded golden ruffle around the edges. It was one of the many stolen pillows he'd somehow smuggled into his cell.

When Alia spotted Val Junior, it very nearly broke her heart. Valyrym had the little cotton-stuffed black dragon clutched tightly to his chest plates. He'd wrapped both front legs around the little toy dragon as though it really were his son, and he would never again let go. Alia bit her lip, wishing Valyrym did not have to awake to such a heartbreaking reminder of what he'd left behind.

For a moment, part of Alia wished she'd never bought him that little toy. How could she have ever known what it would mean to him? Alia still clearly remembered the day she'd given it to him, and told him she'd named it Val Junior. In that moment, Valyrym had looked so horrified. At the time Alia thought she'd simply offended his stubborn draconic pride by presenting him a stuffed toy she'd named after him. Gods above, had she ever been wrong. How could she have even imagined the memories and feelings that must have flooded that dragon's mind the moment he saw that little black toy? Yet the very next day, there it was amongst his bedding.

Alia felt her throat tighten, and she grit her teeth. The last thing she needed to do now was break down and cry again. She took a deep breath, and let it out as slowly as she could. Gods. She felt as though she'd lived Valyrym's life. The tale he told in a single night felt as though it spanned years of her life. She would have never even considered the things that dragon had experienced, the pain he'd felt.

It was easy to see now why he was so afraid to tell anyone his tale, let alone Alia. She knew well enough she'd become his only friend here. The only friend he'd had in over fifty years. His only comfort in this terrible, dark place. Yet he was terrified he was going to drive her from his life if she knew why he was here. Alia lifted her hands, and ground the heels of her palms into her eyes. The dragon had abandoned his own son in order to pursue the vengeance that saw him take the life of a child. It was an accident, true enough, and yet the death of the child's mother was not.

Valyrym had burned that woman to death, and in the process, so too had her child burned alongside her. It was a terrible, terrible thing that was nearly unforgivable. And as spoke, his voice stretched taut with anger, and pain, Alia saw his heart laid bare. Valyrym saw himself as a monster, and a murderer, and he hated himself for what he'd done. The moment that child perished in the dragon's flames, the dragon gave himself up to whatever punishment both Gods and men could come up with. Alia suspected that Valyrym felt no punishment was great enough, no suffering too much to bear for the horrible sins he had committed.

Yet, all those years later, he somehow found a friend. Found someone whom had grown to care for him against all the odds. The fear in his eyes she saw the night before, when she convinced him to open his heart and tell his story was unlike anything else she'd ever glimpsed in Valyrym's gaze. Alia knew he had grown to care for her greatly as well, and if she spurned him because she discovered he was far more of a monster then she ever imagined, it would shatter what little was left of the dragon's psyche. Even as it was, Alia saw little holding him together any more. His body was still strong, but his shattered heart and soul were a broken tower held together by little more then a fragile network of patches and scaffolding.

It pained Alia to think that there was every chance in the world she might have come to see the dragon as the very monster he thought himself. If she had somehow learned of his crimes without knowing the rest of his tale, it would have been easy assumption to make. Aran'alian or not, she knew little of dragons before meeting Valyrym. If upon being given her Warden's job, she had been told that the dragon was a monster who burned a child in his mother's arms, Alia would have thought him a vile thing. All she'd ever heard of dragons was that they were monsters, and surely any beast cruel enough to incinerate an innocent woman and child was as wicked as they come.

But Valyrym was no monster. Alia thanked any God would listen for letting her get to know the soul behind those golden eyes long before she ever found out crime he committed. In asking Valyrym to tell her what pain he carried inside himself, she had only wanted to help him unburden his heart. Alia had sworn to the dragon that nothing would change, and no matter what he told her, she would remain his friend. And in so doing, she offered to help the dragon bear his burden.

Only now did she realize what symbolism that simple offer must have held to him.

Alia sniffed a little, wiping tears from her eyes before they could fall. How different things could have been for him if only he'd stayed with Kylaryn. Part of Alia wished he had. Though she would never have gotten to meet the dragon, at least he would have been happy. Even after what he'd done, Alia found herself thinking the dragon deserved happiness.

As Alia rose to her feet, she found herself thinking about the child in that burning carriage. She sighed, adjusting her crumpled blue blouse. How old would that child have been now? Aran'alia had been gone for at least fifty years, and Valyrym had been here longer then that. There was every chance that if Val had not taken his revenge that prince would have long since grown old and faded from the world himself. The years of life that Valyrym had denied that child were matched by the years the dragon spent in this prison, and the years he was denied a chance to share with Valar.

Alia turned to stare down at Valyrym's head while he slept. She made up her mind about the old dragon then and there. "You have suffered enough, Valyrym."

Valyrym murmured in his sleep, shifting a little. His gray tinged nostrils twitched. Alia moved to crouch down alongside him, stroking his neck a few times to try and soothe him. She didn't really want to wake the old beast just yet. As long as his sleep seemed to be peaceful, surely it was better then what he would wake too.

Now that it was all over, Alia felt a little guilty for making him relive such terrible moments. It almost seemed as though the dragon had finally moved past the worst of it before Alia came into his life. Yet now everything was going to seem so fresh again. She hoped she had not done more harm then good in opening that old wound. She'd only meant to help drain the ill humors that poisoned his heart, yet she feared she may have cut too deeply.

At least now he would have someone there for him. Alia found herself smiling at that thought. She would be there for Valyrym every day. At this point, they would have to toss her in jail to keep her from visiting the old dragon as often as she could. Hell, perhaps she could got herself caught for some minor crime, and request that she be jailed alongside the dragon. The thought made her laugh, and she bit her lip to keep from waking Val.

The sound of water dripping against stone caught her attention, and Alia rose back to her feet. At the far wall of Val's sleeping chamber, some of the rain coming through the vent was starting to puddle on the floor. Alia didn't really want it to end up soaking all of his bedding. What did he call it? His soft things. Certainly his soft things needed a wash but the dragon did not need a flooded sleeping chamber.

Alia cast her gaze around the room, taking in the measure of the dragon's so-called collection. It still looked more like a hoard to her, but she'd let him call it what he wished. There were boxes and wooden crates stacked all over the place. Many of them were filled with spare bedding, or old clothing. Or so it appeared, Alia wouldn't have been surprised if they were actually concealing more contraband deeper within. Sets of simple shelves held things like old lanterns, a wind up clock she'd never noticed before, a few little figurines and other trinkets, and some various liquor bottles.

Many of the walls were lined with sturdy bookshelves of burled walnut and oak. They actually looked as though they would have cost quite a bit of coin when they were new, and Alia wondered once more just where the dragon had gotten them. She supposed it was possible they were here when he moved in, but if that was the case they had held up extraordinary well. They did show signs of age and wear, but Alia suspected Val was exceedingly careful with them, just as he was with the many books that lined his shelves. A well worn red cover caught her attention as her eyes flickered across his many books. Faded golden lettering could still be read.

Of Poetry.

Could it be? That was the same book she'd selected to prove Valyrym could read. She simply thought it a good test of his reading ability. Surely, no dragon would bother with a book of poetry. Of course at the time she had no way of knowing that he would select to read a poem of his own. Or that the book would have such history for him. But...could it be the same book? It certainly looked old enough to be the once-blank tome that Amaleen shared with him.

Alia reached out and carefully pulled the book from the shelves, careful not to upset it's hardbound neighbors. The book was in worse shape then she remembered. The red leather that held it was worn and frayed, but the roses embossed on the cover still stood out. The spine creaked when she opened it to the first page, and the parchment seemed dry and brittle. Yet despite being creaky, the spine was also very supple and worn. The dragon must have paged through this book a hundred times or more.

Alia looked down at the inside cover. The ink there was faded, but the inscription was still legible. What she saw made her heart skip a beat.

To my new friend Valyrym, May the poetry I've found in your heart ever shine, And may you fill these pages with the beauty I've come to see inside you. Amaleen.

"Dead Gods," Alia breathed. It was the same book. How on earth had he gotten it back? She glanced back at the dragon, a wistful smile spread across her lips. "I solve one of your mysteries and you present me with another."

Reverently, Alia closed the book and placed it back on the shelf. That book was probably Valyrym's greatest treasure here. Alia would care for it just as lovingly as she would care for Valyrym. For a moment, she ran her fingers along the fading lettering across it's spine. Then she ran her fingers across a few more books, wondering how many of them were treasures from his past, as well. Maybe he even had one of the books he used to read to Valar. Oh, she'd love to see that.

Valar. Alia sighed, shaking her head. She wasn't sure who she pitied more right now. Valyrym, or his son. From the way Val spoke of him, Valaranyx sounded like just about the most wonderful little dragon hatchling she could image. Alia would have loved to meet him. Of course Valar would have been grown long before Alia was even born, so it would not have been the same. Wherever he was, Alia hoped he had grown up safe, and happy. More then that, Alia hoped Valar had forgiven his father.

Valyrym deserved forgiveness.

If only he would give it to himself.

The sound of water on stone soon took the increasingly distinctive patter of water on water. The noise drew Alia's attention once more. She frowned when she saw that the puddle on the floor was increasing in size faster then she'd anticipated. Alia spent a few moments digging through the dragon's various crates, boxes and piles of assorted junk and treasures until she'd located a suitable bucket. The search made quite a clatter but it couldn't be helped. Better Valyrym by awoken by noise now then a cold puddle soaking his bed a few minutes in the future.

Alia fetched a dirty blanket and used it to mop up the puddle, then replaced it with the bucket. Droplets of water plunked noisily against the wooden bucket, though their pace was uneven and it would take some time before the large bucket began to fill. At least Val's collection was safe from the rising tide for the moment, Alia thought with a smirk.

When Alia turned around, she saw Valyrym lifting his wedge-shaped head from the pillow. The old dragon scrunched his pebbly scaled muzzle, flaring his spines a little. His golden eyes were bleary and unfocused. He stared at Alia for a moment as if struggling to place her. Alia smiled at him, and approached to gently stroke his nose. She could almost see the gears turning behind his eyes as his waking mind struggled to cast of the shroud of dreams that had covered it so completely only moments ago.

"...Amaleen?" Val finally said, sounding both painfully confused, and heartbreakingly hopeful.

"No, Val," Alia said gently, taking his muzzle in her hands. "It's Alia. We...we fell asleep..."

"Oh..." Val blinked a few times, recognition starting to dawn on him. He took a deep breath, and let it out in a long sigh. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Alia said, smiling. She leaned forward and kissed his nose. "Were you dreaming about her?"

Val looked away for a moment. "...Yes."

Alia moved to settle down against Val's chest. He shifted his foreleg to make room for her, and as she leaned against his chest plates, Val enclosed her protectively in her grasp. Alia took Val Junior and settled him in her lap, then lovingly stroked the scutes along Val's front leg.

"You still dream about her a lot, don't you."

"...Yes," the dragon said again. He lowered his head to nudge Val Junior with her muzzle. "Him too."

"I hope they're good dreams for you, now," Alia said, lifting her hand to stroke Val's throat. "You deserve good dreams, Val."

"They are, mostly," Val said, sighing to himself. "The nightmares rarely come to me anymore. For that I am thankful." He laid his spines flat against his head, and then lay his head back down against the pillow. "The other day, I dosed off in the tub. It was right before you came to tell me about your friends, actually. I had a lovely dream."

"You sound as though you want to share it," Alia said, still stroking his leg.

A smile crept across the old dragon's muzzle. "It was all the lovelier because you were in it, Alia."

"Oh? Were you having a naughty dream, Val?" Alia giggled to herself as she teased the creature who had become her best friend. "Something about all your various human lovers putting on a show for you together?"

Val blinked, and Alia was happy to see the dragon smirk, even if it only lasted a moment. "No, but now I rather hope to have dream the next time I sleep."

Alia leaned back against Val's chest plates, and cuddled the stuffed black dragon against herself. "So what was I doing in your dream?"

Val turned his head to peer at Alia. The black fabric that made up Val Junior's body stood out against Alia's blue blouse. For a moment, it almost could have been Kylaryn holding their son to her breast plates. For now, it was the next best thing. Valyrym smiled a little. "What you're doing now, actually. Holding him."

"Oh?" Amaleen glanced down at Val Junior. "Your cottony son, or your real son?"

"My real son," Valar said with a hint of a chuckle creeping up his throat. "I was dreaming of Amaleen. She was dancing on a hill, in the rain. In her favorite dress. It's one of my favorite memories of her, and I could not clear it from my mind even if I wished too. She held Valar in her arms, and swung him around and around. He squealed in glee...and then you were there. Amaleen smiled at you, and she passed Valar over to you, and you held him just as lovingly as she did."

Alia found herself beaming at that image. It sounded like a wonderful dream. "What happened next?"

Valyrym snorted playfully. "You woke me and told me your idiot friends were coming to visit."

Alia couldn't help but laugh. "Well, to be fair to them, only one of them is an idiot. The other's just a bit easily distracted."

The dragon snapped his jaws a little. "I should wonder what they say about you when you're not around."

Alia twirled a finger around one of Val Junior's curved horns. "That I'm quite bossy, and stubborn headed, I should imagine."

Valyrym cocked his head, grinning as he tightened his grip around Alia's belly. "Are you sure that's not pig-headed?"

"Are you calling me ugly?" Alia tried to act offended.

"No, I'm saying you're a messy eater, and your snort a lot."

"You're one to talk," Alia replied with a laugh. "I've half a mind to send Val Junior hurtling straight towards your snout!"

"I'm sure his namesake would be proud if you did," Valyrym said with a laugh which turned into a sigh.

For a little while, Alia just lay against the dragon's body, stroking his front leg. Valyrym watched her in silence. Memories rolled behind his golden eyes in streams of images playing out in his mind. The old dragon had been buried under the Illandran castle for so long, he'd almost forgotten how an Aran'alian looked. When he'd first laid eyes upon her, he knew in some hidden corner of his mind. But it wasn't until he'd seen her with her friends that he truly thought about her heritage and her lose homeland.

Valyrym's lost homeland.

"You look so much like them," Valyrym murmured to himself, staring at Alia's face.

Alia's hair was like the feathers of a raven, black and full and lustrous. And her skin held that same, gently bronzed tone as all the others. Valyrym thought Alia's skin might be a little bit fairer then the average Aran'alian back home, but he imagined that was probably because Alia had spent so much time indoors over her life. Yet even a lifetime in the shade could not erase that beautiful natural hue. Compared to Alia, the dragon imagined most Illandrans must look sickly and pallid.

Also like most Aran'alians, her features were a little softer and more rounded then those of the average Illandran. Her nose was a bit small and round, her cheekbones only faintly noticeable. Even Alia's eyes held an almost almond shape, whereas Illandrans always seemed to have more sharply cut eyes as if they were constantly glaring. Glaring and judging. Perhaps that was in the dragon's mind. Her eyes glittered, bright and green, like mischievous emeralds.

Valyrym shifted himself, curling both his body and his neck a little bit. He moved his wedge shaped head down until he was practically nose to nose with Alia. He wanted to peer into her eyes. Alia didn't say anything, she just smiled at him. Alia lifted her free arm and gently stroked the dragon's throat, letting him stare into her gaze as long as he wanted.

Valyrym found himself nearly entranced by Alia's eyes. For as long as he'd known her, he'd found her eyes beautiful. There was something in them that had enraptured him from the very beginning. He hadn't really spent much time thinking about it, but now he wanted to know. Alia's eyes flickered and danced as Val stared into them. He could almost see the golden hue of his own eyes reflected in Alia's deep emerald pools. As he stared, a hint of a smirk flickered across Alia's lips.

"See anything you like, Dragon?"

It clicked. Valyrym knew then what he saw in Alia's eyes, and he spoke it aloud. "Defiance."

Alia blinked. That wasn't the answer she expected. "What?"

"Defiance, Alia," Valyrym whispered, pressing his muzzle gently to her cheek. "It's been there all along but I would not allow myself to see it. You walked down those stairs, you called me out, and you strode up to me bold as the rising sun. You knew I could strike you down if I so wished, and you defied me. You practically dared me too. ...Just like her." Valyrym swallowed hard and glanced away. "The first time I met you, you both defied me. You both thought me a beast, and you both came to see me as so much more. You could not mirror each more if you tried, Alia..."

Alia was quite a moment. She eased her head back, and took Val's muzzle in her hands. Then she leaned forward and gently pressed her warm, full lips to the gray scales that surrounded the dragon's nostrils. She kissed him right next to the fat pink scar that still marred his nose. Alia let her lips linger there for a moment. The dragon was so warm, the scales there were fine and soft. As she pulled her head back, she lifted her eyes to meet his own.

"She used to kiss me like that, too," Val said softly, glancing down at the old furs and blankets upon which the two of them lay.

"I know," Alia said with a little smile. "You told me many times throughout your tale."

"I suppose I did," the dragon murmured, licking his nose as if hoping to find Alia's taste still lingering there. "I hope that my ramblings did not go on for too long."

"I could listen to you for years, Valyrym, if you would but let me."

Valyrym's heart stumbled over it's own rhythms, fluttering a moment. "...Why must you be so kind, Alia? Why stay with me, even now? You know what I've done. I am but a monster with a hollow heart, an aging shell and a bitter, poisoned soul."

Alia took hold of Valyrym's ears tightly enough to keep him from pulling away. "Shush! You're none of those things, Valyrym. I told you before, that whatever you'd done, you were not the same beast. And you are not. You have paid your penance, Valyrym. You have grieved for your losses, and you have suffered for your crimes, and you have done so in solitude for more years then I am likely to live. But you are not a monster."

Alia let go of the dragon's ears with a long sigh. He slowly pulled his head back from her grasp, but did not turn his eyes away this time. "Perhaps you were, for a time. You did things that many would consider unforgivable. Terrible things. And yet, you have paid your price for those crimes."

Valyrym winced, his voice as flat as the spines pinned back against his head. "I killed a child, Alia."

"I know that, Valyrym," Alia snapped with more vehemence then either she or the dragon had expected. "But did you drag him from that carriage? Did you toss him into the sky and watch him plummet? Did you tear him apart in front of that king? If you knew he was in that carriage, would you still have burned it?"

"No!" Valyrym uncurled from Alia, pushing himself to his feet and flaring up his spiky frills. "I would not have!"

"And why not?" Alia shot to her feet, grabbing at the dragon's chin. "Is that not what you wanted? Blood for Blood, right?"

"Not like that!" Valyrym hissed, jerking his head away from Alia's hand. "Not on a child!"

"And what if it was Valar you lost? What if the king had Valar slain instead of Amaleen?" Alia advanced on the dragon who suddenly found himself backpedaling as though he expected her to strike him. "Would you have murdered that little boy then, right in front of his father?"

"NO!" The dragon practically roared his reply as he stopped backing away. "I would not murder a child!" And yet he had. But never in his life had he wished such a thing.

"Why not!" Alia screamed right back at him, her face flushing scarlet, anger flashing in her green eyes.

"Because I am not a monster!" Valyrym snapped at her, following it up with an angry growl. And then it clicked when Alia smiled.

"And that is why I stayed with you, Valyrym," Alia said gently. "Because I know your heart, and I know you well enough to know your life is not defined by the worst moments. Your life is defined by every part of you." Alia moved towards him, the anger that shone in her eyes for a moment was now replaced by wet sorrow. She had not wanted to hurt the dragon. But she had to know that somewhere in his heart, he believed he was still more than a monster. "You are not your worst moment, Val. You are your love for your son, and your love for Amaleen, and you are the poems you write and the freedom you fought for and the dying men you carried to the sky, and the names you carved in stone. Your life is not one terrible moment, Val, your life is a tapestry woven by everything you've ever done, and the good in you has far outweighed the evil."

Alia's voice began to shake, and Valyrym's breath caught in his throat. His heart pounded in his chest, and his mouth grew dry. There was another way Alia was so much like Amaleen. She was capable of drawing emotions from him he had worked so hard to bury. He turned his golden gaze away, and when Alia pulled his head back towards her, Valyrym closed his eyes instead. So Alia hugged his head against her chest tightly enough he could hear her own smaller heart hammering away.

"I have stayed, Valyrym, because I have come to care for you." Alia stroked his neck with a free hand. "I have stayed because I refuse to judge you based on one terrible act. Because I refuse to see only the monster you became. Yes, Valyrym, you were a monster, and you did a monster's deeds. But stay because I see so much more then that, Valyrym. I see the sorrow burning in your eyes when you talk about your crimes. I see the regret every time you look Val Junior, and when you carried him in your jaws last night I saw love and pain like I have never witnessed in another. Alia pulled back just a little so she could look down at the dragon's face as she head his muzzle to her breast. "I stay, Valyrym, because now I too have seen you at your all. And it is beautiful."

Valyrym slowly began to cry. Tears ran down his black scaled cheeks, and dripped to the floor. Others found their way to dampen Alia's blue blouse. He slowly pulled his head back from her, and reached out with a paw and delicately cup her cheek as best he could. She leaned her head into his encompassing paw, staring back at him with equally tearful eyes.

"Why are you here, Alia?" Valyrym asked, speaking as much to any Gods who might be listening as to Alia herself. "After all these solitary years, why have you come here?"

Alia knew he the dragon meant it as a rhetorical question. Yet to her surprise, Alia had an answer. Something the dragon said earlier stuck with her. "Symmetry, Valyrym."

"What?" The dragon curled his neck into an S, his golden eyes widened.

Alia lifted her hands to gently clutch Valyrym's paw as he pulled it from her face. "Symmetry, Valyrym. Like the old hermit said. You have suffered here for decades, Valyrym, and perhaps rightfully so. And yet..." She trailed off a moment, and then gently squeezed the dragon's paw reassuringly. "Yet here I am, staying at your side as you recount your darkest times. I know how afraid you were, Valyrym. Afraid to lose me, to lose the only friend you've had in years I would be afraid to count. I am here, Valyrym..." Alia let a smile slowly ease some of the pain on her face. "I am here, Valyrym, because of the wind."

"The wind?" The dragon lifted his ears a little, confused.

"The wind that carries, Valyrym," Alia said. That expression had stuck with her the moment Valyrym first used it. "I am here because the wind that carries us has carried me to you, to tell you that you have suffered enough. That you have paid your penance, and that it is time for you to let it go. Everyone you hurt is gone, Valyrym, and the pain you caused is a memory that has long since faded from existence." She gestured towards the rain falling through the skylights carved in the stone above. "No one out there knows why you're here." Then she waved to the ceiling above them, indicating the castle far beyond. "No one up there knows, either. The royals don't know, Valyrym. The documents don't say. There is no one left who was hurt by your actions, Valyrym, and that means there is no one left to forgive you. That is not a stain, Valyrym. That is absolution."

Alia pressed her hand to his chest, over his powerful heart. She gently stroked the hardened plates there. "You are the only one left who still holds this inside. You view yourself as a monster, Valyrym, but I do not. I would offer you my forgiveness, Valyrym, but such is not my place. Such is not why the wind has carried me to you." Alia moved forward, and whether the dragon liked it or not she put her arms around his neck, and kissed his throat a few times. "I am here because I feel your life is still worth living. I am here because you need someone to help you learn to forgive yourself. You have to let your pain go, Valyrym, You are the only one left to offer yourself forgiveness."

Valyrym's tail coiled on the floor, the spines dragging an animal hide a few feet. When he replied, the dragon's voice was soft, almost distant when he finally replied. "I think you know me well enough by now to know I cannot let things go."

"Not easily, anyway," Alia said, but she did not want to argue with the dragon. "But that is why I am here, Valyrym."

The dragon merely sighed, and turned his head away again.

"I won't press you, Valyrym, but I won't let you withdraw again, either." She moved and placed her hand upon his neck. "You have come to care for me, have you not?"

Valyrym slowly turned his head to peer back at Alia. His golden eyes shone with pain, and fear, and hope all rolled into one tearful whole. "More then I care to admit."

"As have I for you, Valyrym." Alia stroked his neck gently. "I will be here for you whenever you need me, Valyrym. And perhaps more then that. You may grow weary of my presence before long."

Alia meant it as a joke, but Valyrym did not laugh. "I would never grow weary of you, Alia," he said, his voice nearly breaking. "I would have you here every moment of every day, if I could. I cannot put words to the way you have made my life better. My existence was little more then the very dark, dismal hole in which I live, and I every day I wondered if I deserved it as much as I often felt I did. And then you arrived, and by the time you were stitching me up just like Amaleen stitched up my son I knew you were making my life better by the day." The dragon sniffed hard a few times, trying to hold in his tears. "You are right, Alia, I was so afraid when you asked me to bear my soul to you. It was...so much easier for me to try and forget what I had done, I could almost convince myself I wasn't half the monster I am. But in my heart, in my empty, ruined heart I knew what I had done. And when you asked me, I was terrified. If...If I lost you because...because of..."

"I know, Valyrym," Alia said gently, moving to take his head in her arms again. She stroked his muzzle a few times. "You don't have to say it."

Valyrym went on, anyway. "And then...then you told me you...you would..."

"I would bear your burden," Alia whispered. She remembered it as clearly as the dragon. Though the night before she had no idea what those very words might have come to mean to the old dragon. "And I will." Alia pulled Val's head up so that she could look straight into his eyes. A maelstrom of emotions whirled behind them, they churned like golden vortexes. Waves of pain washed across them and collided with the ever-increasing tide of hope. "I will bear your burdens, Valyrym, each and every one of them. I will hold you when you cry, I will soothe you when you rage, and when you feel cold and alone, I will be your warmth and your companion."

The dragon stammered a little. His wings shook as he quietly cried against Alia's blouse. She stroked his neck, rubbed one of his ears a little. Between soft sobs, he glanced up at her. "You are a beautiful spirit, Alia."

Alia smiled at him, sniffling a little herself. "It seems you have a habit of attracting those."

Valyrym laughed just a little through his crying. "Every century or so."

Alia laughed with him, holding him. Now and then she used the sleeves of her blouse to dab at his eyes, and dry the pebbly scales of his muzzle. While the dragon let his emotions out, she wondered how close to accurate his little joke really was. Aran'alia had been officially converted to Illandra around fifty years ago, she thought. But that was something that would only have happened once they'd completely pacified it. Who knows how long they fought on after Val was captured, and who knows how long after conquering the land it took before they had made everything official. Alia peered down at the gray scales that marked the tip of his nose, and edged his ears. The same ashen tones ran along the edges of his wings, and the end of his spiked tail. Once, that gray had been blue. How long ago had that been? How old was Valyrym?

For now, it scarcely mattered. When the dragon's tears had stopped, she gently eased his head up with her hands, and kissed his scarred nose again. "I hope you feel a little better, Valyrym. For whatever it may be worth to you, I promise you I will never leave your side so long as you want me here. I...I truly believe that you have suffered more then enough." Alia sighed, gesturing towards the larger chamber with all the carved pillars. "You no longer deserve to be locked down here."

Valyrym turned his head to lick at Alia's hand a little. "I would drive you away from this place if I could, Alia."

Alia was taken aback for a moment. "What?" For a second, her own heart pounded. Had she done something wrong? Or did Val simply wish to wallow in his own self pity? Before she could think too hard on it, Valyrym explained.

"If they know how I have come to care for you, Alia, they will use you to hurt me." His voice trembled a little, and ghosts flickered behind his haunted, golden eyes. "I told you before, bad things happen to the best parts of my life. Alia, I can say without any uncertainty that you are now the best part of my life." He licked his nose, wrapping his wings tightly around himself as though he felt a sudden chin. "And I suddenly find that quite frightening."

"Oh," Alia said. She was unsure how to respond to that, especially considering the beating she'd delivered to that noble before. At the time she'd been acting on fury, and increasingly protective instincts over the creature she now considered to be "her" dragon. She did not regret punishing that cruel man, but she had to admit a trickle of cold fear suddenly running down her spine. She shivered.

"I can take any punishment they can dish out," Alia said without thinking. She meant it to comfort Valyrym, but too late she realized it might not have that effect.

"Have they a reason to punish you?" Valyrym said, his voice concerned. He pulled his head back, giving her a slightly suspicious look.

"They're always looking for reasons to punish the Aran'alians," Alia said, hoping that was that. No need to give the dragon anything more to worry about.

"If they harm you..." Valyrym's voice trailed off and Alia put a hand against his snout to keep him from finishing that thought.

"I know, Valyrym," she said gently. Then she forced herself to smile. Dwelling on unpleasant things wasn't going to help the dragon any. "Now. You've told me your story, you've bared your beautiful soul, and now I think you need to relax for awhile. I also imagine you're quite hungry."

The dragon licked his muzzle as his belly rumbled. A little smile crept across his black and gray muzzle. "I wasn't, until you just said that."

"Then how about I see to getting you some lunch, hmm?"

The dragon rustled his wings a little bit. "I would not say no."

"Good!" Alia's smile grew wider. "I'll see if I can find you something tasty to eat." Then she shook her finger at him. "But not cake. You need to eat something more healthy then that."

"Perhaps cake for dinner, then." The dragon growled playfully. "And more rum."

"Cake and rum are not a meal, Valyrym," Alia said, giggling.

Valyrym snorted at her, and gave a heavy sounding sigh. "My lovers never let me have cake and rum for dinner."

"So now I'm your lover?" Alia giggled again, her eyes shining.

Valyrym snorted, glancing away. "Don't make it awkward, Alia."

"Oh, so now it's awkward?" She smirked, and then gently scratched him under his chin, along his jaw line. "Besides, cake and rum is all you had for dinner last night."

"Yes, and look what that got me to babble on about," the dragon leaned into her hand. Slowly, he began to purr. The sound of stones tumbling about in a barrel grew louder and louder as he saw no reason to withhold such noise from Alia any longer. "I should hope you haven't gotten the wrong idea in your head about me. I hope you do not think me soft."

Alia could practically see Valyrym building the golden walls inside his eyes again. That was fine. She did not expect the old dragon to leave his heart bared to her at all times, after all. Let him build his walls again. Besides, Alia now knew those walls she always saw in his eyes came complete with a gate. A gate which Alia now held the key too.

"Don't worry, Val. I won't tell Thomas and Kaylen what an old softie you really are."

The dragon grunted, scrunching up his muzzle in a pained grimace. "I'd forgotten they saw my little display last night."

Alia rubbed his nose. "All the saw was an old creature growing sorrowful over his lost home. If you'd rather I tell them you simply got something in your eye..." Alia giggled. "Or rather both your eyes, I'll do so."

"Tell them what you like," Valyrym muttered, doing his best to act grumpy. "Just don't tell them I cried like a hatchling or I shall bite you in places the marks won't show."

"I would never tell them that, Valyrym," Alia said gently. "But, I think they'll be concerned about you. Would it be alright if they come and see you again sometime?"

Valyrym canted his head, staring at her through one eye. "If they really wish to see me again, I suppose I should not be completely against the idea. So long as they don't act like idiots."

"Well, I won't make promises they can't keep, Val," Alia said, giggling. "Oh, and if you bite me in places like that, don't expect to get to see those places again afterwards."

"Well, that would be a shame," the dragon said with a little smile. "Perhaps I can get Kaylen to show me her places then, instead. She did grab my sheath, after all."

Alia burst out laughing. "Oh, Gods Val, I'd forgotten about that." Alia gazed around Val's sleeping chamber, then crouched down to pick up her boots. She'd taken them off sometime during Val's tale. Holding them in one hand, she began to walk towards the exit back into the main chamber. "Come along then. I'll draw you a nice hot bath to relax in while I see about your food."

"Will you take it with me?" The dragon asked, a hint of a smirk evident in his voice as well as upon his muzzle.

"Not this time," Alia said with a giggle. "Perhaps later."

"Just as well," Valyrym said. "I cannot honestly say I am in the mood, anyway. But I had to ask."

"Of course you did."

Valyrym shook himself, flared and stretched his gray-edged wings, and then began to pad along after Alia. "Perhaps if my mood improves, you can send your sheath-grabbing friend and we'll see what else she likes to grab."

"You're pressing your luck, Val," Alia replied. She waited for the dragon to join her in the main chamber, and then gently put her hand upon his shoulder to walk alongside him.

"No," Valyrym said, grinning. He limped a little as he walked. His hind leg throbbed quite a bit as if angry to have been reminded of just how he'd gained such a large scar. "Pressing my luck would be asking the two of you to bathe me together. Been ages since I've had two girls at once."

"And it's likely to be ages more since you have it again."

"So you're saying there's a chance?"

Alia patted his shoulder. "Perhaps with enough rum." Before Valyrym could reply to that, she glanced back at his hind leg. "How's your leg? Sore?"

Valyrym paused to stretch the scarred limb out behind himself. He grimaced a little. The puckered gray flesh of the old scar stretched taut. Valyrym winced and hissed in pain as his hind toes splayed out when the deeply scarred muscles cramped a moment. His hind claws stuck out for a few moments till he'd stretched enough for the worst of the cramp to pass.

"It is angry with me."

"Go get in the tub," Alia said, stroking his neck. "The hot water will help. I'll get the stoves started."

"First, I must return the last of that rum to the water table," Valyrym said, giving Alia a little smirk.

Alia laughed, and as Valyrym turned away from her she playfully swatted him on the haunch. He yelped and glared back at her for a moment, but found himself smiling when she stuck her tongue out at him. Then as the dragon went to empty his bladder, Alia headed to the stoves. She passed alongside several of the towering, fluted marble columns that spanned the dragon's cell in neat rows. Far above her, those columns spanned out into elegant arches that gave the ceiling a graceful, ebb and flow that stretched on into darkness. By now Alia needed no torch to navigate the place, though thanks to the rain it was darker then usual. Instead of shafts of sunlight shining down through the air vents, there was only a cold light that permeated the area beneath the far wall.

Alia passed by the pillar that Val had carved into a waterfall. Dark as it was it was harder for her to make out the details of the carving then usual, but she paused to look at it anyway. It was all there, just as Valyrym had described it. Each line had purpose, and she could almost see the water pouring down the stone and across the floor. She almost expected to see Amaleen sitting alongside it, or dancing in the spray. The thought made Alia smile.

Alia was still looking at the carving when Valyrym rejoined her. "One of my better works," the dragon said, tilting his horned head back to peer up at it.

"How long did this take?" Alia asked, running her fingers down a few of the old carved lines. A bit of dust coated them, and she wiped her fingers off on her breeches.

"I've no idea," the dragon admitted. "Months, at least. Perhaps years." Valyrym licked his nose as he thought about it, flattening his spines back in distaste. "Definitely years."

"Every line..." Alia breathed, trying to imagine the patience.

"...Is perfect," the dragon said, finishing her thought. He did not mean to brag, though he was quite proud. "I spent days on that just thinking about where to place a single line. How to make the spray look right." Valyrym ran a paw back and forth over a few lines cut into the floor. "How to make it look as though it were really flowing."

"It's beautiful, Val. Truly beautiful."

"Thank you," the dragon said, genuinely glad she thought so. "It kept my sane, anyway."

Valyrym laughed to himself, but Alia was starting to realize he wasn't joking. "You mean that, don't you."

Valyrym sighed a little, and turned away, playfully bumping Alia with his tail. "It helped me calm down. Helped me focus my thoughts. Mind you, it took me many years before I could carve anywhere near that well. I carved over many of my first attempts because they came out so poorly. But the days when I was the angriest...whether I was furious with Illandra, or myself, or whenever I simply wanted to tear down this whole damn city or bash myself to pieces against these walls, carving kept me sane. I could not do it when I was angry, and so I used it to balance myself mentally. Expend my anger in a violent tantrum, then settle down in front of a pillar and try to carve something beautiful. Time and again I returned to memories. I knew well enough I had squandered my life, and given up my son to pursue revenge, but that did not mean I wanted to forget all these beautiful things I'd seen in many years."

As Valyrym began to walk towards the tub, he flicked his tail towards the pillar. "That is the waterfall at the Bones of The Earth, obviously." Then he flared a wing, pointing it towards the exit to the stairwell. "I've seen you and Enric looking at that pillar nearest the stairs. That is Sigil Stones, back when I first made a deal with the place. When it was still a humble little village. The pillar well beyond it is Sigil Stones after it had grown quite a bit."

"I'd love to see them all," Alia said, stroking the dragon's tail as she walked up behind him. "I mean I've had looks but, I'd like to see them through your eyes."

"I suppose I did once promise you a tour," the dragon chuckled. "And I'm sure you've seen my life in stone."

"Is that what you call it?" Alia patted the dragon's shoulder as they neared the tub, and then moved away from him to head to the stoves.

"Actually," the dragon said, looking back the way he'd come. Though it was mostly shrouded in darkness for the time being, the far wall of the place was inscribed along much of it's length with images from the dragon's life. Memories of all he'd seen and done in his long life forever carved into stone. "I call it my timeline."

"That's a good name for it," Alia said as she gathered up some wood and kindling. "And yes, I've certainly seen it. But I've never really looked at it closely. It seemed far too personal."

"Thank you for that," Valyrym said, watching Alia fill stoves with wood. "But it's alright if you wish to see it now."

"I'd like that," Alia said, smiling. "Maybe you can talk me through that as well."

The dragon only grunted. Alia kept smiling as she loaded the stove. Thanks to the hard work of a small army of workers, the dragon's cell was equipped with a hot water bath ever since Alia had taken charge of him. A system of simple pipes carried some of the water that flowed into the dragon's home across the custom built flat tops of three cast iron stoves. The water flowed slowly enough to give the stoves time to heat it before it eventually poured into the dragon's tub. Another stove nearby worked as a feeder by burning wood and providing hot coals to fuel the other stoves.

Valyrym padded over to the tub itself. He paused and lowered his head to sniff at the wooden walls. Iron banding, bolts and metal fasteners on the outside held the wooden walls of the tub together like an oversized barrel surrounding an oval shaped depression cut in the stone floor. "I've still no idea how your people managed to make this thing so sturdy." He stepped over the wall of the tub one paw at a time, glancing over at Alia. "One day, I'm going to slip on some soap you've left behind, and I'm going to crack my own eggs on this tub wall."

"And I'm going to laugh, and laugh," Alia called back to him as she got a fire started in the belly of the first cast iron stove.

"I would be worried about you if you did not," the dragon admitted. The depression in the stone naturally held a bit of water from the stream that flowed through the corner of his prison. At the moment there was more water flowing over the various moss-covered rocky ledges then usual thanks to the rainstorm. It was colder then usual as well. Valyrym shivered as he sat down in it, his scales all clicking together. "Do you think the stoves will be able to heat all that water?"

As Alia got a fire going in the second stove, she looked up at the water that cascaded over the granite ledges. In the dim light, the moss that covered them looked almost as gray as the layers of shelf fungus that clung to the underside of the outcroppings. "I'm not sure. I'm starting some fires directly in the three heating stoves this time, rather then just using coals from the feeder stove."

"Will that work?" The dragon sounded a little dubious.

"Probably. Only some of the water goes through the pipes anyway, but the rain has made it extra cold. So using direct fire instead of coals will either heat the water to the usual temperature, or it's going to scald you severely." Alia grinned mischievously. "Come to think of it, you might not want to be in the tub till we find out."

Valyrym just glared at her. He bared his fangs and hissed till she turned away, laughing. For a moment, he watched her work to put spark to flame, her black stresses swaying in front of her face. Unlike Amaleen's, Alia's hair was completely straight. Val soon turned his attention to the colder water he already sat in. Even if the water came in hotter then usual, the water resting in the tub already would cool it enough to keep it from hurting him.

Valyrym idly splashed his paws in the cool water that was already standing in his tub like a bored hatchling. An image of Valar flashed through the dragon's mind. The little hatchling was jumping in puddles, chanting in a sing song voice to himself. Splishy splashy, splashly splishly!

"Splishly, Splashy!" Valyrym murmured his son's words to himself without even realizing it. "Splashy, Splishy, splishly splashy, playin' in the rain..."

"Are you having fun there, my dear?" Alia giggled as she overheard the dragon and saw him slapping his paws at the water.

Caught in a personal moment, Valyrym only glared at her. "Just heat the water."

"Yes, Sir Dragon," Alia said, giggling. "Shall I also wax your scales and polish your horns?"

"Keep it up, Wench, and I'll give you something else to polish."

Alia put her hands on her hips. "Since when am I a wench?"

"Since I became Sir Dragon." The dragon waved his paw dismissively at her. "Thank you, that is all."

Alia just laughed to herself. After Alia got the fires in the stoves going, she went around to all the sluice gates built into the piping to start redirecting the water. Soon water was flowing across the hot area atop the stoves and down into the dragon's tub. As Alia adjusted the flow until she got it where she wanted it, she kept an eye on the dragon. When he didn't think she was looking, he went back to splashing in the water with his paws, and murmuring to himself under his breath.

Alia didn't need to be able to read the dragon's mind to get her own image of little Valar dancing in puddles while it rained. Alia bit her lip a moment. She could not help but wonder if getting the dragon to tell her so much of his life had made all those memories come rushing back. Obviously he'd never forgotten his son, but she hoped the old dragon's mind could handle the extra strain.

Alia walked to the tub, and put her arms against the wooden walls, leaning towards him. Val barely even noticed her. For a short while, the old dragon just seemed lost in his own little world. In his mind, he still saw Valar playing in the puddles. In his mind, Valar was happy because his father was playing right alongside him.

"Splishly, Splashy," Valyrym murmured to himself again. He finally caught Alia watching him, and cleared his throat with a growl. "Oh, get mounted Alia."

"He loved playing in the rain, huh?"

Valyrym nodded, and a wistful smile spread over his muzzle. "He always did. Couldn't keep him out of the mud and the puddles even if we tried. You should have seen all the mud he tracked into Amaleen's home one day while I was away, at war. By the time I came back, she was still trying to clean up her carpets and bedspreads!"

Valyrym laughed to himself, memories shimmering behind his eyes. As the hot water began to rise, he slowly eased himself down in it, sighing a little. Valyrym suddenly felt quite old. His scars ached, his ruined fire glands throbbed. His bones and joints were stiff, and all he wanted to do was sleep. He rested his head on the edge of the tub, relaxing a little as the hot waters rose higher.

"Thank you, Alia," Valyrym said, closing his eyes. "Thank you for everything."

Alia walked around to stroke his nose for a few long moments. "You are more welcome then I can say, Valyrym." She tensed, and her voice tightened. An idea had been creeping up in her mind for a little while now, but seeing the dragon playing in the tub, wishing he was still with his son had solidified it. "You don't deserve to be here anymore, Valyrym."

Valyrym just chuckled, purring to himself with his eyes closed. His tail swished beneath the rising water, sending little waves crashing up against the tub walls. "That is kind of you to say, Alia. I am not so sure I agree, but...at least I have found a friend."

Coming from Valyrym, Alia could not imagine a more touching thing to say. "Yes, my Lovely Dragon. You have." He had found more then that. "I need to go and get you some food, now. You know how to close off the gates when the tub is full. I've got a few other things to take care of for the day, and I'll be back soon with your lunch, alright?"

The dragon simply murmured, nodding lightly. Alia leaned down and kissed his muzzle. He licked her cheek, and then Alia turned to make her way off towards the exit. Once she had turned away from him, Valyrym slowly opened his eyes again. He lifted his head to watch Alia walk off into the darkness with his heart slamming against his sternum, his blood pounding in his veins. Alia knew the truth now, and she had not left him. Valyrym realized something then, as he watched Alia vanish into the gloom.

Alia would never judge him.

When Alia had disappeared completely into the darkness, Valyrym lay his head back down against the tub and closed his eyes again. For a while, Valyrym had tried to deny it. But he could not so do any longer. When it became clear that Alia would stay by his side no matter what, the truth was as bright as the sun itself. Valyrym could fight it all he wanted. Tell himself it was not true. But in the end the light of truth shone even into the depths of his dungeon.

And the truth was that for the first time since he'd lost Amaleen, love was blossoming in Valyrym's heart.

---

Chapter Two

Alia stared out the window as she lay relaxing in the hot water that filled her tub. She promised to bring the dragon his lunch as soon as she could but in truth she needed a little time to collect herself. Valyrym's tale had left her shaken to the core, and though she'd held herself together well in front of him she did not wish to return until she'd had a chance for her mind to settle. She felt as though she'd lived a whole lifetime over the last night and a half. Valyrym's words came across so vividly, his story so touchingly told it was no surprise to her that Amaleen once told him there was poetry in his heart.

While the dragon was speaking she'd done her best to stay strong for him. True enough when the dragon began to cry Alia had done the same. Even now when she thought of the way he'd learned of Amaleen's death the thought brought tears to her eyes. But Alia knew that in Valyrym's rare time of weakness and vulnerability, he needed someone to be strong for him. So when Valyrym faltered, Alia was steadfast. But Alia's strength was not an endlessly bubbling spring. She had nearly used the last of it when she roused Valyrym to anger in order to get him to admit to himself that he was not a monster.

As soon as she had the dragon relaxing in a hot bath, she knew she needed to do the same. Before she brought the dragon his food she had to have a little time to herself. Alia suspected that Val was probably glad to get some time alone as well. The depth of his recollection and the conviction of his words had come as quite a surprise. For such an old creature, his memory was sharper then Alia thought hers was even now. It was easy to see how things could still seem so fresh years later to a creature with a mind and memory so sharply honed.

Alia took a deep breath, and leaned back against the wall of the tub, closing her eyes. She'd come to greatly enjoy having a private tub in the time since her promotion to Dragon's Warden. Even the tub itself was practically a work of art. A lovely oval shaped thing of finely hammered copper upon three legs, each of which was sculpted to resemble an open dragon paw pressed flat against the ground. A set of copper pipes once ferried in hot water from the chamber next door. There was a bell to ring, and summon a servant to set about heating the water and pouring it through the pipes, but Alia was not about ot make some poor servant attend her every need. After all, that was exactly the sort of job she used to be stuck doing.

One of the first things she had done for herself upon taking on her new job was to install a water heater in her private bathing chamber that she could operate herself. Now it stood upon three raised legs in the corner of the room. It resembled a large brass kettle, with a slightly rounded tank Alia often kept filled with buckets of rainwater she collected upon her balcony. A basin beneath the bottom of the raised tank could be filled with hot coals which turn heated the water. A pipe that looked just like the spout of a tea kettle upwards from the bottom of the tank, and when pulled into a lowered position, allowed the hot water to floor directly into the tub. Lock the spout back into the upright position and the flow of water was cut off once more. The drain in the bottom of the tub was positioned above another drain cut into the stone floor. Remove the stopper from the tub, and the water poured directly into the drainage grate, where it flowed down a small channel and as far as Alia knew, eventually dumped outside the castle somewhere.

Hopefully not straight into some poor servant's meager garden.

A variety of flower and fruit scented soaps and perfumes complimented the bath well. Valyrym might not like having the aromas of fresh wildflowers and various fruits emanating from his water when he bathed, but Alia certainly relished it. Especially on a day like today, when she truly needed to relax. Today she had chosen the scents very carefully. She'd almost selected soaps that smelled like sweet roses. But then Alia saw another soap she had not used in some time, and decided it seemed far more appropriate.

Today, Alia's bath smelled like apples.

Alia opened her eyes, and turned her head. From her spot in the tub, she had a very clear view out the leaded glass doors to the small balcony that extended in a semicircle beyond the stone wall of the castle. There were soft, beige toned curtains on either side of the balcony to provide privacy for the bathing chamber. Yet Alia had never once undone the knotted, cream colored ropes that held them open. The balcony itself was quite high, and she probably could have strutted about it nude without anyone spotting her, let alone while she remained inside. Besides, she preferred the light of the sun and moon to that of candles and lanterns any day.

It was still raining outside. Alia found it a dismal sight. Which was a strange realization for her, because Alia loved the rain. As a young girl, long before she knew of her people's plight inside Illandra, her favorite days were always rainy days. Without hesitation she'd run outside at the first sign of rain. She could have been in her prettiest, most expensive dress and there was still little her poor mother could do to stop her from jumping in the nearest puddle and giggling like the giddy little girl she'd been. Even in the darkest days of her life, when her back was laid upon for standing up to the wrong man, or she was pressed into the bed of some liquor-stinking noble just for a few extra coins, the rain always made her happy. She danced in it every chance she had.

Now, the rain only seemed dreary. At first she wasn't sure why. It seemed the same as any other rainy day. And she'd never found rain anything but a joy before. Yet now, as she watched the droplets of rain splatter her window, listened to the pattering noise it made against the panes of glass, she struggled to figure out why it suddenly made her feel sad. Perhaps she was just feeling a little down from the dreadful conclusion to the Dread Sky's story. Maybe it had been seeing Valyrym emulate his own son playing in the rain, knowing he himself would never again have that pleasure.

The Dread Sky would never see the silver rain again.

And then it hit her.

Alia was sad because the rain in Illandra would never be silver.

Alia had always loved the rain, but she had only known it in Illandra. She had only known the rain as most of the world thought of it. Never had she had the pleasure to see it as her mother had seen it. As Valyrym had seen it. As all the Aran'alians in the world once saw it, before they were driven from their homes and saw their lands conquered.

Alia loved the rain, but never had it seemed so boring. So bland. So ordinary. Everything about this town was ordinary, and bland. What did they have but buildings of stone and clear rain and cold hearts and poverty. Alia had never known anything but Illandra. She had never seen her homeland, barely even heard tales told of it growing up. It was almost as if her mother did not want Alia to miss something she'd never get to see. Yet in a single tale, the dragon made her feel as though Aran'alia was her home, too.

And Alia had never missed her home so badly.

Alia could only imagine how Valyrym must feel. To have his love wrenched from his arms. To be so wracked with grief that it nearly drove him mad. To be locked for all his many years down in that wretched dungeon, beneath the castle. To know every day that he would never see his beloved home again. That he would never see his son again. His poor son. Alia sniffled, trying to hold herself together, but images spawned in her mind through Valyrym's words flooded her thoughts in a colorful rush.

Suddenly the rain outside was silver. The scent of apples was not her bath, but the fruit from the tree near the colorfully painted houses near the outskirts of Sigil Stones. Valar was the one splashing in the rain, chanting "Splishy, splashy" alongside his father. Amaleen was carving up freshly picked apples to give to her two favorite dragons when they came in from playing in the beautiful silver rain. Rain that poured along sloped roofs and into barrels where people who still lived free would to go to drink it.

But Aran'alia did not live free, and Amaleen did not live at all.

Valyrym did not free, and Valar would never see his father again. It all seemed so wretchedly unfair.

And it all hit Alia in a rush. "No!" She screamed, slapping her hands against the surface of the water like a child furious at being made to bath. "No! No, no, NO! Damn it!" None of this had to happen. None of this ever had to happen. If Illandra had just kept to their own damn lands, then Amaleen would have lived a full life with Valyrym, Valar would grown up with his father, and Alia would have grown up in the homeland who's name she proudly bore. Yet it did happen.

"Damn you, Illandra!" Alia thrashed about in her bath, furious as a wound animal. She rarely gave into fits of temper and rage, and yet emotions had been building inside her all throughout Valyrym's story. Better to release those pent up feelings now while she was alone, rather then risk having Valyrym accidentally bear their brunt. Soap water sloshed over the copper walls of the tub and splashed against the gray stone floor in a frothy mess. Alia finally shrieked another curse and slammed the bottom of her fist against the side of the tub.

Alia cried out again, this time in pain as she split open the side of her hand. She grit her teeth, her anger-reddened face scrunched up. "Son of a bitch," she hissed through her teeth, clutching her bloodied hand. Fat droplets of red blood fell into her bath, the crimson stains turning pink as they mixed with soapy foam. She rinsed her hand in the hot bath water, grimacing, then examined the wound. It was nothing that wouldn't help up on it's own, but it hurt like hell. The fact she'd so fool shiny injured herself in a fit of petulant anger over things she could not change only further soured her mood.

For a few moments she clutched her hand tightly, trying to get it to stop bleeding. Blood soon coated her hands. The image made her think of the blood on Valyrym's paws. When she rinsed her hands again, she could not help but think of Amaleen washing that same blood from the dragon's scales time and again. Alia slowly lifted her hand, and watched the blood dribble down across her wrist. She imagined her hand a dragon's paw, covered in blood. She imagined herself Valyrym.

There was no one left to wash the stains from my paws...

Alia curled up in the tub and began to cry. It was so wretched unfair to that dragon. It was unfair to his son. It was unfair to Amaleen. And it was unfair to the child who burned alongside his mother. And now, it was all too much for Alia to bear. So she cried. She cried for Valyrym, and she cried for Valar, and for Amaleen, and for the home she'd never known, and for that poor child who burned because of his father's war. She had shed tears for Valyrym before, after she'd seen that green dragon's head in the pub.

Oh, Gods! It couldn't be...could it?

That it might be Korvarak's head adorning Jena's wall only made Alia cry harder.

As she cried out, she could not help wondering what Valyrym had done to deserve this. Not this fate, not this cell, but what he'd done to deserve the horrible things that drove him to seek vengeance. Alia could not find an answer. It seemed to her that most of his life was spent trying to make himself a better creature.

From an icon of simple selfishness he had transformed into someone who risked his own life to protect those no one else was willing to stand up for her. His only love was dead because he dared to stand up to her enemies. Because he dared to fight for her freedom. Valyrym put his wonderful transformation all on Amaleen, but Alia saw through that. Valyrym thought with Amaleen's death all that goodness had bled from the dragon, and left him little more then hollow anger and despair. Alia saw through that, as well. Through his story, through the pain that shone in his eyes and the love that shone through his voice when he spoke of his son, Alia saw him at his all.

Alia saw a creature that had devoted so much of his life to fighting for others, and had never had anyone stand up and fight for him.

Valyrym thought himself a monster who abandoned his son. Alia saw a grieving lover and troubled father who found himself abandoned by the very people he tried to protect.

Valyrym thought his heart cold and empty. Alia saw the poetry in it shining through the cracks in the ice.

Alia saw a creature who never in his life had someone stand up and give their all to fight for him.

Until now.

As Alia cried into the apple scented air, she made a decision that would alter her life forever. Valyrym had suffered enough. Alia was going to fight for the dragon.

Alia would free Valyrym if she had to tear this greed-built castle down brick by blood-soaked brick.

---

With her body dry and wrapped in warm clothes and her hand bandaged, Alia made her way to the kitchen. After hearing Val speak at length about Amaleen and her assortment of colorful dresses Alia felt inspired to wear something like that as well. While Alia had purchased quite a few blouses, and pairs of breeches, and even a few skirts, she hadn't yet bought herself another dress. In truth she rarely found a reason to wear them. Nice dresses had hardly been appropriate for servant's work after all. And even after she'd been promoted to Dragon's Warden, a pretty dress hardly exuded the sort of power and respect for the office she wanted. Now, though, now she just found herself wanting to look pretty for the dragon. She hoped he wouldn't get the wrong idea. In no way did she want to make herself over into Amaleen, or cause the old dragon to start stumbling over his own memories. She simply felt he'd enjoy seeing her wearing such a thing.

So Alia had dug deeply into her closet, and pulled out the only fine dress she'd ever bought for herself. She had a few inexpensive sundresses and things, but only one beautiful dress that might be appropriate for formal occasions. It was a present to herself a few years ago, a gift to celebrate getting a job as a castle servant. While the earnings were meager, they were steady. Better yet, it meant a room and a bed she would not have to pay for or share with men for a few extra coins. She'd scrimped and saved for months after that, and finally bought herself the most beautiful dress she could afford.

The dress was a sky blue color that darkened towards indigo and midnight shades towards the very hem of it's skirt. It was cut in a simple V around her neck that showed off just a hint of her breasts. The V-cut was outlined in double lines of golden lace. The sleeves flared out around her hands, and the color there also darkened to indigo. More golden thread ringed the end of the flared sleeves, and the ruffled hem of the dress's skirt where it spread out about her feet. She matched the color of the dress with a few sky blue ribbons that she tied around her black hair after pulling it behind her head in a loose ponytail. Given that just reaching Valyrym meant descending an entire army of stairs, Alia decided against the only elegant pair of shoes that she had, and instead went with a comfortable pair of cloth sandals. They might not match the dress, but then again matching fashions had never been high on Alia's list of priorities.

As Alia made her way through the halls of the keep, she found herself in a better mood. She had no idea how on earth she could possibly free Valyrym, or even if she could truly succeed. And yet, the simple fact that she had decided to try seemed to have lifted a burden from her heart. It was Valyrym himself who said people should always have hope. Well, now Alia herself had something to hope for.

Alia walked swiftly through long stone corridors. Many of them were padded with thick beige carpeting, others held rugs of burgundy and deep ocean blue. She passed a variety of small antique tables of burled ebony, sets of shelves made of rich mahogany and cherry, and all sorts of other decorations. There were silver and gold candelabras set atop silk tablecloths. There were immaculate paintings upon the walls of scenes of Illandran history and various countryside settings. And there were beautiful, intricately woven tapestries of grand battles and victories. Alia tried not to pay too much attention to them. If any of them depicted victory over Aran'alia she did not wish to see it.

Once it had amazed her just how easily Illandran wealth could be depicted through things as seemingly simple as fine furniture and decor. Now, she couldn't help but wonder how much of it was ill-gotten loot from ransacked countries, or how much money could be raised to feed the poor if they sold it all off. Still, she wanted to improve her mood not sour it so she tried to keep her mind from wandering too far down such darkened roads.

Alia soon reached area referred to as the Second Kitchen. Illandra's capital citadel had multiple kitchens spread throughout its sprawling grounds and each of them held a slightly different function. The First Kitchen was reserved entirely for the personal cooking staff of the Queen and her immediate royal family. It was in the First Kitchen that the very best food was kept and prepared, and it was off limits even to the majority of most of the castle stuff. The Second Kitchen was actually quite a bit larger, as they were responsible for preparing food for the vast majority of the nobles, guards, soldiers and workers who served and lived at the castle. There was also a Third Kitchen, which was sometimes referred to as the servant's kitchen as it primarily existed as a place for the servants to cook for themselves.

The Second Kitchen was one of the places Alia visited when she wanted to get something special for the dragon. Though most of Valyrym's meals came through an assortment of butchers and marketplace mongers of this and that, many of the special treats she'd brought him came from the Second Kitchen. The cooks and chefs there were nice enough and didn't mind it when Alia took something for the dragon. They knew well enough half the food prepared for the nobles was probably going to be wasted anyway. For much the same reason they didn't mind Kaylen sneaking some morsels for herself and her friends when she was on kitchen duty, they didn't mind Alia walking in and taking possession of a meaty delicacies. Better they go to someone who would actually enjoy them then some noble who'd eat a few bites and decide he wanted something else, instead.

Alia pushed her way through the oaken double doors that marked the entrance to the kitchens. One door was inscribed with the word "Second" and the other "Kitchen." Both doors also shared engravings of things like bushels of wheat, racks of lamb, hams, and piles of fruit. Aromas of cooking meat and roasting vegetables wafted across Alia's face as soon as she opened the doors, accompanied by waves of warmth from all the cooking fires. Smoky scents presented themselves as well, it seemed the chef smoked something different just about every day. He took pride in his food, and Alia could not help but wonder if he was secretly very proud that even a dragon took pleasure in the things he'd cooked.

The room was noisy, the chef was calling out orders to his underlings and they in turn were bossing around their own subordinates. People in white, gray and black uniforms seemed to be rushing in all directions. It was later then she usually arrived, they were probably in the middle of preparing an extensive evening meal for the majority of the castle's population. Alia didn't want to get in their way, but she did have to get some food for Valyrym. Her own belly rumbled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten either. Alia folded her arms under her breasts, ignoring the fact it might not be an especially ladylike thing to do while wearing a dress. She was hardly concerned with how ladylike she was, anyway.

The kitchen was divided by several long granite countertops. The servant's kitchen only had more typical wooden counters, but the Second Kitchen had stone. Much as it might seem it was just another display of wealth, Alia knew the stone counters were a wise idea. This kitchen saw far more usage then the other two, and granite simply did a better job standing up to the immense amount of wear and tear. Up and down each counter people were chopping vegetables and herbs, slicing up chops of meat, butchering hogs and lambs, and much more. Each counter as broken up by a few cooking fires as well, some with cast iron stew pots suspended above them, others burning low beneath copper pans and skillets or heating entire stone ovens with smoldering coals. People rushed back and forth, a chaotic but well rehearsed routine that they repeated day in and day out.

Amidst all the chaos, only one person really stood out. A little shorter and a little plumper then many of the other cooks and workers, and dressed differently as well. Black hair cascaded over the back of her black and white servant's dress. She was humming loudly enough to herself to be heard even over the shouted orders of the head chef, and wiggling her body in an odd little rhythm that was probably off-time even to the music in her head. She stood at the far counter, artfully arranging plate after plate of food. A pan with slices of roasted duck was set nearby, and each bit of meat she plucked from it was every so carefully laid out against a crisscrossed latticework of roasted asparagus, then drizzled with a plum sauce. When the plates were completed she pushed them down the counter and soon someone else swept them up to deliver them to diners. Now and then the servant girl snuck a bit of duck for herself, and though she made no attempt to hide it, no one else made any attempt to notice.

"You there! Serving Girl!" Alia called out in the gruffest, most faux noble voice she could manage. "I see what you're doing there! How dare you steal food, you little tramp!"

Kaylen straightened in an instant, nearly dropping the next slice of duck on the floor. For a second, near-silence settled over the kitchen as they thought poor Kaylen was about to be dressed down. And if she was in trouble, odds were they'd all be reprimanded for allowing her behavior as well. After a moment's hesitation, Kaylen whirled around even as she picked her skirts up in a curtsy and lowered her eyes to the floor.

"My most sincere apologies, Madam!" Kaylen's voice was a nearly perfect approximation of actual regret. "I've no idea what has come over me! I swear to you, Madam, that I have never done such a thing before, and I promise on my own heart...that..." About that time Kaylen noticed the footwear of the woman in the blue dress who was chastising her. "Are those sandals, Madam?"

No real noblewoman would ever be caught dead wearing sandals with a dress. Come to think of it, that dress looked as though it were made of something as simple as dyed cotton. Hardly high quality material. When Kaylen didn't get an answer, she slowly lifted her eyes until she spotted Alia beaming down at her. As soon as their eyes met, Alia burst out laughing so hardly she nearly stumbled back through the very doors in which she'd just entered.

Kaylen dropped her skirt and shot back to her feet. "You dirty whore!" She burst out giggling as she gave Alia a forceful but playful shove. "You gave me quite a fright!"

Laughter broke out across the rest of the kitchen as well, and soon they were right back to work. Kaylen gave Alia a warm hug, and the two women embraced tightly for long moments. When they released each other, Kaylen returned to her station and resumed plating food, still giggling a little. "I should have known no real noble would ever bother sullying himself by coming all the way down here. Gods forbide they might catch sight of someone doing some actual work for once."

Alia was still laughing as well. She moved up alongside her friend, watched what she was doing for a moment, and began to give her a hand. Alia's plates were not as artistically perfect as Kaylen's, but Kaylen certainly wasn't going to complain about the help. "You should have seen yourself jump, Kaylen. I don't think I've ever seen anyone drop into a curtsy quite that fast before.'

"Thought I was about to get fired for a moment," Kaylen admitted, giggling. "My heart's still pounding."

"And yet you still found time to discuss my footwear," Alia said with a smirk.

"Yes, well, as soon as I spied your sandals I began to realize I'd been had." Kaylen spooned some sauce onto a plate, and handed it to the servant who was delivering it. "I shall have to think of a way to get you back." She gave Alia a devious grin, then softened her tone a little. "Still, I'm glad to see you. After the way things went last night, Thomas and I were a little worried about you. And about your dragon."

Alia paused a moment. Hard to believe that it was only the night before when she'd introduced her friends to Valyrym. Seemed like ages ago now that old dragon had first begun to tell her about his road. Alia bit her lip, chuckling to herself. Such an innocuous way to start such a heartrending tale.

When Alia seemed frozen, Kaylen reached out and gently touched Alia's arm. "Are you alright?"

Alia gave a little sigh, and went back to work. She gave Kaylen a little smile. "Yes, yes I'm alright, thank you my dear."

"And...the dragon?" Kaylen had plated the last of the duck, and soon she was working on boar chops with roasted apples. She deftly quartered each roasted apple, placed the quarters in a sort of diamond shape. The crispy roasted skin was resting against the plate and the pale, cooked flesh was upturned. Then she laid out a boar chop against the center of the apples, and gently spooned a thick sauce atop it all. "Is he alright, as well?"

That...was a harder question to answer. Alia wasn't really sure how to respond. For a few moments she busied herself emulating Kaylen's techniques as best she could. "I think your food comes out nearly as beautiful as your dresses."

"Thank you," Kaylen said with a very proud smile. Then she nudged Alia with the blunt end of her knife. "But how is your dragon doing?"

Alia chuckled a little bit. Kaylen could be surprisingly incisive when she wished to be. "He's in a lot of pain."

"I hope you haven't given the poor old thing a beating," Kaylen said, smiling. "He might be a little mouthy but he doesn't seem so bad to me."

Alia smiled a little as well. "He's as well as can be expected, I suppose. I think I...well..." Alia paused again, her knife resting against the plate, an apple lay uncut. "I wanted to help him, you know? To get him to unburden himself. But I didn't realize how fresh it would make things in his mind. I fear I've done little more then open all the old wounds he's spent so many years trying to mend."

"Ah," Kaylen said, nodding. "Then you shall have to help him mend them again, won't you."

"I'm not sure..."

"Hush now," Kaylen said, a little more forcefully. She waved her knife in the air as if making her point through threats of force. "You've done a fine job mending the poor old thing's nose and other wounds, and you'll do a fine job of mending his soul, as well. That's what you are, Alia. A mender."

Alia blinked. "A what?"

Kaylen smiled and went back to slicing apples and plating boar chops. "A mender. You mend things, Alia. People, mostly. Perhaps that makes you a healer, but my mother always called them menders. You've always put others before yourself, sometimes to a fault. Like those scars on your back that were meant for someone else." Alia stiffened, and Kaylen was silent for a little while. Then she gave a little sigh and went on. "You helped Thomas and I get our jobs here, you patch people when they're wounded, you heal people Alia, even when you don't know it. Body and soul, you're always there for them. If anyone can mend this dragon's soul, it is you, Alia."

Alia found herself smiling. Somehow Kaylen always found a way to lift her spirits. She suddenly turned and gave Kaylen another tight hug. Kaylen gave a little squeak of alarm, working to keep her knife well out of the way. "Careful, Alia, you damn near got yourself run through!"

Alia only smiled. When she pulled away from Kaylen, an odd question was suddenly tugging at the corners of her mind. She pushed away from the counter, looking around. Then she put her hands on her hips, and gave Kaylen a hard look. "Kaylen, if I leave this place, forever, would you come with me?"

"Oh?" Kaylen giggled, scratching at her lightly bronzed, lightly rounded nose with a free hand. "Riding off with some handsome prince, I suppose? Rather cliche, don't you think, Alia?"

Alia smirked. "What if I said I was riding off on a dragon, instead?"

Kaylen quirked a dark brow, tilting her head. Alia giggled at the gesture, it made Kaylen resemble a quizzical canine. "Is this hypothetical dragon kidnapping you, or are you going willingly?"

"Quite willingly."

"Oh!" Kylan's eyes widened further, and she found herself unable to resist a smile. "Well, yes, that's much less cliche."

"So would you go with us?"

"Yes," Kaylen said matter-of-factly, then returned to her duties plating food. She sliced a few hunks of boar off a spare chop, popped one in her mouth and handed the next to Alia. "That sounds like a grand adventure. Provided I had verbal assurances from the dragon that he wouldn't eat me."

"Not in the traditional sense," Alia couldn't help joking. She took a bit of the strip of boat. The skin was crispy, glazed and sweet while the meat was rich and juicy. The things nobles ate.

"What do you mean..." And then Kaylen caught on. "Oh, my!" Her face reddened in an instantly, and she turned away from Alia, trying to keep her giggle from escaping. It didn't work. Much as she tried to use her lips and teeth as a prison, the delightfully bubbling sound slipped out anyway. "Oh my, indeed! Has he...have you...has he actually..."

"That's quite enough out of you, Serving Girl," Alia said, grinning. Perhaps she hadn't expected Kaylen's incisiveness to extend so far. Or perhaps she had, and she simply didn't care. Alia wasn't sure, but she knew of all people, Kaylen would be the last one to judge. If Kaylen's mind were any more open, the castle itself would tumble inside. "So that's a yes, then? Should I leave this place forever on a dragon's back, you'll be coming with me?"

"Absolutely," Kaylen giggled. Surely, Alia was joking anyway. Yet, if she wasn't? "That is not an adventure I could ever forgive myself for passing up."

"Good," Alia said, slipping an arm around her friend's rounded waist. "Now, in the meantime, I've another idea. How would you like to come work for me?"

Kaylen glanced down the counter at the rest of the food that still needed plating. "I could squeeze in some time to assist you when I'm done here, but then I've got cleaning duties for the rest of the afternoon."

"Not any more you haven't," Alia said. Mischief sparked in her dark green eyes.

"What are you on about, you daft girl?" Kaylen kept working while they conversed.

"I'm offering you a job, actually."

Kaylen slowly let her hands come to rest against the granite countertop. "What sort of job?"

"The sort where you get paid a lot more and treated with a lot more respect." Alia began to smile, and her grin grew wider and wider with each beat of her heart. "The only downside is, you have to put up with being berated by a mouth old egotist."

"Thomas isn't that old, Alia," Kaylen said, giggling. Then she grew more somber. "Are you serious about this?"

"Completely." Alia nodded, grinning. "Look, obviously you've got time to think it over. I need to get some food to Valyrym, and I'd appreciate it if you'd help me do that right now."

"I'm busy at the moment..."

"I'm sure someone else can take over your important duties of helping yourself to the nobles' food."

Kaylen burst out laughing, and dusted off her hands. "Yes, I suppose you're right. So you really want to hire me? As what, exactly?"

"My assistant," Alia replied. "My contract says I'm allowed to hire assistants if I deem them necessary. You'll be an official employee of the Wardens Office, just like me. You'll help me keep the dragon fed, keep his home clean, keep his records up to date, conduct business with the butchers and everyone who helps keep him fed, help me with the financial contracts, and really, just about everything I need done."

"Ah," Kaylen said, grinning. "So I'll be an errand girl."

Alia poked her friend in the chest, giggling. "Well, I do outrank you after all. I want to hire Thomas, as well, if he's willing."

"I don't see why he wouldn't be," Kaylen said, then gasped. "Oh! Can I at least outrank Thomas? Please?" Kaylen giggled and twirled in a circle, her black and white skirts swirling in the air. "Oh, it would be wonderful to have something to finally hold over his head. I could boss him around!"

Alia couldn't help laughing along with her friend. "Well, I suppose since I'm technically hiring you first..."

"Oh, so I do outrank him! Oh, this is wonderful!"

Alia shook her head, laughing to herself. "Maybe by the tiniest of margins."

"Thomas," Kaylen said, shifting her voice to a lower, gruffer tone. "Fetch me my wine at once Boy! Don't leave me waiting, or I'll toss you out on your ass!"

Alia only laughed harder, grinning. "You're a disaster, Kaylen."

Kaylen bounced on the balls of her feet a few times, her excitement like a physical thing trying to escape her. "I can't help it! But I suppose if Thomas is sent to fetch wine for anyone, it will be for the dragon. Though I seem to recall he likes rum, better."

"You mean when you're not couching it up all over yourself?" Alia grinned, and then took Kaylen by the hand. If she didn't get her friend to help her fetch food for the dragon now, Kaylen would spend the rest of the day babbling in glee. "Now help me get him some food."

Alia lead Kaylen deeper into the kitchen, and was soon filling a burlap sack full of roast ducks. Kaylen protested about the treatment of such lovely food, but Alia assured her the dragon would be able to make just as much of a mess of himself no matter how the food was served. Alia also wanted to bring the dragon something a little more special. Nothing really caught her eye until she passed by the area where the Chef was always smoking one manner of meat or another. Something inside drew her attention.

"Are those what I think they are?" Alia asked the Chef when she caught his eye.

Alia set the ducks down and rubbed her hands together in excitement when the Chef confirmed her suspicions. "Kaylen, do me a favor and find the largest try you can, and then cover it with those."

Kaylen stared at the food in question a moment, scrunching her nose. "Really? You actually think a dragon is going to like smoked fish?"

Alia smiled more brightly then Kaylen could ever recall. "Oh Kaylen, you have no idea."

---

Chapter Three

Valyrym lounged in the tub till the water began to grow cold. His thoughts wandered down the many roads he had traveled in his long life. The many bad decisions he'd made over his countless years. All of them somehow culminating in the events that lead him here. There were so many things he wished he could take back, so many actions he longed to undue. Valyrym never wanted that child to die. That had hurt him almost as badly as it would have if it were Valar who died. And yet, if he were to relive his life again and again, he would avenge Amaleen every single time. He would do it differently so that the child might live, but Amaleen's death simply could not go unanswered.

Valyrym was a creature of vengeance. He had tried to deny it, tried to make himself something better. In a way, he'd even tried to live the life of a human, in a house, in a city. And when Amaleen was gone, he tried to carry on that life. Blood for Blood was not the way of the humans in Sigil Stones, and it was not the way of Amaleen. But Valyrym was not a human. Valyrym was a dragon, and dragons were vengeful.

Valyrym could only hope his son would be the one to break that cycle somehow. Assuming his son was still alive. Valyrym sighed as he thought of Valar. He lay his head against the wall of the tub, staring off into the darkness while the hot water slowly cooled around his black scaled body. Though he had no way of knowing, somehow he felt that Valar was still alive out there. Since the day of his imprisonment, that was all that Valyrym had left to hope for. Clinging to the hope that somewhere in the world, Valaranyx still drew breath was often the only thing that kept Valyrym going. It seemed a foolish thought to clutch so tightly to his heart. After all even if Valar did yet live, Valyrym would never see him again. Why hope for something he would never be able to confirm one way or another?

Because that glimmer of hope was the only light left in Valyrym's dark empire of stone.

At least, it had been until the day Alia arrived. In that first moment when she came into his life, and did all she could to feign courage while she faced him down, Valyrym saw something in her he hadn't seen since Amaleen died. There was boldness in her, yes, and defiance, and those things drew him first. But beyond that, there was warmth in her like he hadn't glimpsed in another being in so many years. She offered to build him that damn tub not as some reward for good behavior, but simply because she wanted him to be treated better. He saw glimpses of her heart that first day, buried beneath her false but amusing bravado. When she bore his insults and matched them with her own, when she engaged him not as a prisoner or a monster but another person.

But not until the night Alia patched his wounds had he begun to see Alia at her all. That was when the beauty inside Alia truly began to shine through whatever imagined armor of feigned bravery she draped herself in. In that moment, the courage in her was real and all she wanted to do was protect the creature who had not been able to protect himself. Though he'd said nothing of it at the time, as she stitched his nose all he could think of was how much she reminded him of Amaleen.

They were both healers, but that was not the crux of it. If anything, Alia's methods and techniques were crude and simple compared to the knowledge Amaleen had shared with him. The difference of course being that Amaleen had studied such arts her entire life from master healers, whereas Alia had simply learned them from her mother, who had in turn likely learned them herself out of necessity while journeying across the lands as a refugee. But that was not what mattered. No, what mattered was in their hearts they shared the same desire to help those who needed it.

It was so simply a thing, and yet it seemed so rare. Valyrym could not help but think that in much of the world, let alone Illandra, most people upon finding an imprisoned monster clutching his bloodied snout would first think, what did he do to deserve it? Even in Aran'alia, before he'd made his deals, how many of land's people would have rushed to a dragon's aid without even stopping to ask what happened? Yet for Amaleen...and for Alia, their first question was inevitably, how can I help?

It warmed the old dragon's heart for just a moment to know that Amaleen's kindness and spirit had persisted among her people even as they were scattered to the winds. Yet that didn't mean Valyrym had come to believe he deserved Alia's kindness. That said, he was hardly going to turn it down. He had suffered here in lonely solitude for more decades then he had dared to count in some time. If it was his fate then his last years should be spent in the company of someone he could share love with one last time, he was not going to fight it.

Especially now that she knew everything he had done. Now that she knew the monster he'd become in his last moments of freedom. A murderous beast who slew a child and abandoned his own son to pursue revenge. Valyrym wondered if Valar had ever actually read the letter he wrote him, the night before he left. If he had, he hoped his young one had taken it to heart.

Young one. He hardly be a young one now. If Valyrym's estimation of the years he'd spent down here were even close to accurate, Valaranyx would be an adult by now. A young adult, but an adult nonetheless. As old perhaps as Valyrym himself had been when he'd first conquered the road, if not older still. Valyrym tried to picture Valar in his mind, all grown up. He would be a handsome young male, handsome enough that should have find a group of unrelated female dragons, surely they'd all be lifting their tails for him in no time.

The thought made him laugh, and the rumbling sound echoed around the chamber. Valyrym sighed a little. It seemed so quite there when Alia wasn't around. He went back to thinking about Valaranyx. Perhaps he had only grown up handsome in Valyrym's mind. But what parent didn't think their son or daughter would grow up strong and beautiful? In his mind, Valyr saw his son standing tall, and proud. His body was strong, muscled beneath his black scales, and he was a little bit lither then his father had been. Blue coated his wings more completely now then it did in his youth, and the blue that tipped his snout had crept half way up his face. His blue mittens remained, the indigo scales covered his four limbs as unevenly as ever. His eyes blazed bright and golden, and the silvery flecks in them shone with determination. Or was it anger? Disappointment? Regret?

Valyrym shook his head. He did not like to imagine his son angry with him, but he could not help but do so. Still, wherever he was Valyrym hoped he had grown up strong. He hoped that Valar's wings had strengthened as well, and then even if he was not an agile flyer, that Valar had discovered the joy of flight. Some days, when Valyrym stared out one of his air vents, counting what few stars he could still glimpse, he imaged his son flying over head. He could almost see the silhouette of a dragon passing above, blotting out the stars for a only a moment and then vanishing again.

Valyrym shivered all at once, realizing the water had grown cold around him. Little ripples and waves washed across the tub, propelled by his shivering body. With a sigh, Valyrmy pushed himself to his feet, and carefully opened the flood gates to let the tub empty out back. The water poured out across the floor of the prison, sloshing towards the ancient drainage grate installed there by whoever had first built this place. Whoever it was, he rather doubted that they'd imagined the drainage system they'd cut into the stone would one day serve as the basis for a dragon's tub.

Valyrym snorted to himself in amusement. Technically, the drainage area itself served as the dragon's latrine, given that it naturally flushed itself out with the flow of water that ran through the area day and night. He rather doubted they'd ever imagined that, either.

As the tub emptied, Valyrym carefully stepped over the walls and onto dry stone. He shook himself a little bit, all his scales rustled and clicked and water flew off of his body in a misty cloud of spray and droplets. The dragon lifted each of his limbs and shook them out individually, then did the same with his wings, tail, and head. As he worked to dry himself, he glanced up towards the dim light pouring down through his air vents. Normally, the light would be bright and golden this time of the afternoon. But the rain clouds left it a sort of faint bluish-gray color, more of a glow then an actual shaft of light. Valyrym almost expected the rain to shine silver, but it did not. It never did.

There was no magic in the air or the rain or anywhere else in Illandra.

A bitter smirk twisted across Valyrym's muzzle as he turned away from the vents, and began to limp across his prison. All these decades down here, trapped beneath the heart of his enemy, and sometimes the color of the rain still surprised him. Or rather, the lack of color. He had never actually seen clear rain until he came to Illandra to pursue his revenge. It seemed as strange and exotic to him as the silver rain must to those who visited Aran'alia. Some days, when he awoke to find it raining, he glanced to the vents expecting to silver drops falling through the holes. The momentary confusion that followed was still enough to leave his heart sinking a little.

Valyrym wondered how long Alia had been away. She was supposed to be bringing him food. His belly rumbled ominously. At this rate, if she brought any servants to help her carry his meal he was going to have to eat them too. Hopefully the castle would deduct that loss from Alia's pay. That would teach her to leave a hungry dragon waiting. Valyrym grinned to himself, lashing his spined tail. The spikes rattled against the stone floor as he padded across his prison.

In truth, he imagined Alia needed a little time to collect herself. For a moment, cold talons pressed their way into his heart and belly. What if Alia wasn't coming back? A pained grimace twisted the dragon's muzzle into a worried mask of black and gray scale. What if she was so disgusted by what he was done she did not wish to see him anymore? He pinned his frilled ears back against his head. Valyrym wasn't sure he could handle that pain now. Yet, he knew that wasn't true. Alia would not lie to him, and she told him that she would stay with him no matter what. Slowly, a smile began to stretch across his snout, revealing a few of his sharp teeth as his pain was replaced by something better.

Valyrym believed Alia. Valyrym trusted Alia. There was not a bigger compliment he could offered her, and he only hoped she would come to understand that. Content that Alia would return to him when she was ready, Valyrym decided simply to be patient. Perhaps he would get a little carving done while he waited for her to bring him his damn lunch already.

Valyrym limped back towards his sleeping chamber. His thoughts drifted and circled around Alia like a curious feline. How had she been brought to him? Had he truly done something so great in his time spent imprisoned to have earned a reprieve? What great thing had he done to deserve her companionship? Perhaps the answer was simpler then he wished to believe.

The old dragon knew what he would have told himself many years ago. It was quite simply the same thing he'd told Kylaryn when they spoke about how easily things could have been different between them. A few simple words spoke at the right time, and the two of them might still be together to this day. And yet, those words were not spoke until it was too late. By then, the whim of the winds had carried them apart.

Maybe Alia was right. That was what Valyrym himself would have said years ago, Alia had simply used the old dragon saying to explain her own arrival. To explain their own growing love. What was it she'd said? That the winds had carried Alia to Valyrym, to tell him he had suffered enough. That she was his symmetry. Happiness to balance his sorrow.

Valyrym stopped dead in his tracks, and began to laugh. "Damn you!" He cursed out loud, shaking his head. He hadn't thought about that stupid old man for many years, not until he found himself pouring his heart's blood out for Alia. He would have been perfectly happy forgetting all about old Asgir and his foolish attempts at wisdom and his ugly, nit-infested beard. But no, Alia had to go and convince Val to tell his tale, and in so doing Alia had seized upon the hermits words as doctrine.

"Symmetry," Valyrym muttered, starting on his way again. "Very well, Alia. You can be my Symmetry." He glanced behind himself as if imagining Alia was really there. "But if you tell the old man, I shall eat you."

When Valyrym reached his sleeping chamber, he quickly fetched Val Junior. He lifted him in a paw first, gazing down at the little cotton stuffed hatchling. For a second, he was really looking at Valaranyx. The little hatchling was gazing back at him with love, his blue-tipped muzzle split wide with a grin. And then he promptly swatted Val on the nose. The vision was so clear in Val's mind he practically yelped.

"At least that's one thing I don't have to worry about you, Val Junior," Valyrym said, perfectly happy to use the toy's name when Alia wasn't around. He squeezed it a little bit, grinning to himself. "You only strike me on the nose when Alia hurls you." He gave a sigh, and continued to speak to the toy. In an odd way he thought it seemed slightly less foolish to talk to a stuffed dragon then it did to talk to himself. "It is not fair, Val Junior. The old man isn't supposed to be right about things. And he's certainly not supposed to be able to pass on his so-called wisdom from beyond his likely frozen grave. Well, at least he's not around to gloat about being right all along." Valyrym paused, and then hissed at the toy. "What are you talking about? Oh no, he's not allowed to gloat once he's dead, I won't allow it."

Valyrym blinked, and then began to laugh again. "Gods, I'm going daft. I'm starting to talk to you even when she's not around. Next thing I know, that old man really will be haunting me and gloating about his damn symmetry."

Valyrym set the toy down, and the carefully took Val Junior in his jaws as he walked back out of his sleeping chamber. The toy was soft enough he could easily hold it in his paw and walk upon it, yet it simply did not seem right. Quick as he was to toss around and abuse the toy when Alia was there, in private he'd always treated it gently. Alia had not seen the old dragon take the toy in his jaws until the night he began his tale, but Valyrym had done so many times before.

Valyrym had seen Valar's face on that toy since the moment she brought it to him. The look that Alia saw on the old dragon's face when she first introduced Val Junior was not one of disgust at being given a child's toy that bore his name. No, it was a look of horror to know that every day now he would be faced with a cotton-stuffed reminder of the son he'd left behind. As if he didn't spend enough time thinking about his son as it was. Valyrym's first instincts were to destroy the toy so he wouldn't have to look at it, and to discourage Alia from buying him another.

In fact, after she left that day, Valyrym returned to where the stuffed dragon lay after being swatted aside. He was intent on tearing the thing into tiny little shreds and letting the stream flush them down the drain. Yet, as he stood over the toy, it simply seemed so helpless. Just like Valar had been. In that moment the toy transformed into a far happier reminder then Val had ever expected. Valyrym had picked Val Junior up in his jaws, carried him back to his sleeping chamber, and tucked him lovingly into his bedding. Now, more often the not, the little stuffed dragon and its reminder of happier times made him smile.

With Val Junior in his jaws, the old dragon padded out of his sleeping chamber and made his way to his timeline. He walked to the area where the carvings were unfinished, set Val Junior down on the ground, and then settled back on his haunches. He spent a few more adjusting the little toy until it appeared as though Val Junior was studying the carvings on the wall intently. With everything in order, Valyrym began to study them the same way.

The dragon murmured to himself now and then as he examined the lines he'd cut to resemble Alia's face. He was not yet finished with her image, but it was hardly something he could rush. He lifted a paw and pressed his pad to the cool stone as if seeking the pulse of the rock itself. Now and then he gently rubbed the stone with his pad. It was mostly smooth here, whoever had first carved this place from the bedrock beneath the castle had smoothed down the walls as well as the floor. Valyrym pulled his head back, tilting it back and forth, scrutinizing the way that all the previously cut lines worked together. He was looking for something, places to add more lines for detail and accent. The image was Alia, but it did not yet look as glowing and lively as he wanted it too. It was a sketch and Valyrym wanted a portrait.

When he was ready to carve his first line, he ever so slowly dragged his claw across the stone, scratching out a guideline. Then he studied that guideline in relation to the rest of the carving, and satisfied it was where he wanted it, he began to carve. Carving stone with claws was a very laborious and painstaking procedure. Though Valyrym had no way to be certain, he could not help but imagine that his method of carving was even more difficult then that which Asgir once undertook. After all he had no tools beyond his own claws. No chisels and no hammers to make his job easier. He had only the natural sharpness and sturdiness of his own claws, and his own strength to press them into the stone.

Cutting stone was hardly a natural use for a dragon's claws, though Val had known dragons who used rocks and boulders to sharpen or trim their claws now and then. And while a dragon's claws were naturally exceedingly sharp, and exceedingly strong, they could certainly still be broken. Valyrym had broken his claws quite a few times against the stone of this place in his many years of carving it. He had come to learn a great deal of patience for his carving, just as he had eventually come to learn how much force and pressure he could safely exert without cracking or shattering a claw. Thankfully, when they did break they eventually grew back.

Valyrym often kept only a single claw unsheathed while he carved, unless he was carving multiple lines at once. Most often he used the claw on what a human might call their index finger. He dragged it down the guide line, pressing firmly enough for his claw tip to scrape through the stone. Then he did so again, and again, and again. Though his claws were strong, they could hardly slice through stone the same way they sliced through flesh. Cutting a single line deeply enough to be easily observed in the carving took quite a few applications, scrapping and cutting through a single small layer of stone at a time until eventually a deep line had been gouged out.

When he had finished the line, he smiled to himself, looking it over. Yes, that was looking better at already. In the image, Alia had her head tilted slightly to the side, and the line he'd just added was the beginning of a few tresses of dark hair hanging to the side of her head in a careful manner It would take quite a few lines for that effect, but Valyrym had nothing but time. He also planned to add some lines around her mouth, to add to the effect that she was smiling.

The old black dragon had since come to find carving to be just about the most calming thing he could imagine. It certainly had it's frustrating moments when he struggled to create the image he saw in his mind, or could not seem to find the right place to fit an important line or arch. But as a whole, it helped him to clear his mind, and focus himself on something that had not only grown to become greatly satisfying, but provided a great deal of stress relief. A far cry from some of his earlier reasons for carving the pillars, he thought to himself with a smirk.

By the time Alia and Kaylen arrived, Valyrym had completely lost himself to his work. The two women set his food down upon the same ledge they'd all gathered the night before, and set out to find the old dragon. Valyrym was seated on his haunches in front of the timeline wall, with his paw pressed to the stone. His gray-edged wings were draped partly unfurled at his sides like half-opened curtains. The dragon's long neck was arched, his graying muzzle nearly pressed to the stone. Valyrym tilted his horned head back and forth, studiously examining the line he was currently carving in the stone. Now and then his spined tail clattered against the stone as if it were bored of the dragon's work. Val Junior sat just alongside the old dragon, apparently keeping tabs on his surrogate father's progress.

To Alia, the sight was strangely heartwarming. To think that he'd actually brought Val Junior out as if to keep himself company. The dragon seemed so absorbed in his carving that he hadn't even noticed the two women approaching. Alia and Kaylen came to a stop a little ways off from the dragon. Val flicked his frilled ears, the spiny crests atop his head raised and lowered at a pace set by the dragon's thoughts. For a few moments, Alia considered quietly walking off so as not to disturb him while he was so consumed by his work.

Kaylen, as was often her nature, took the choice out of Alia's hands. "Oh," she squealed in delight. "He's doing his carving! He looks so adorably thoughtful, like a little old man studying his latest masterpiece."

Though Kaylen might have meant that for Alia's ears, it was rarely in her nature to keep quiet. Valyrym jerked his head up in an instant, rose to all fours, and whirled around to face the two women. He hissed at them, all his spiny frills flared up around his head. He tightened his wings up against his body, lashing his tail behind himself. His golden eyes gleamed even in the very dim light of the dungeon, and soon they had fixed themselves upon Kaylen.

"Did you just call me an old man?" Valyrym demanded, hissing once more.

"Yes," Kaylen said with a giggle. "But I meant it in a good way. You know, like those little old men you see hobbling along, all stooped over, and you just want to go and give them a hug. Which is why I also called you adorable."

Valyrym snarled, swiftly advancing upon Kaylen. For a moment, his limp seemed gone, though Alia imagined he was just putting on a show to try and frighten her friend. "I am neither old, nor a man, and I am certainly not adorable!"

"Oh, don't be a cranky old dragon," Kaylen said, beaming despite the dragon's best efforts to intimidate her. "Alia says you're quite the sweetheart under all that armor and all those spines."

"Does she." The dragon's voice was flat as he turned his glare to Alia.

"Yes," Alia said, setting down the bag filled with food. Grinning, she rubbed the old dragon's soft, gray-marked nose. "She does. Now stop trying to intimidate my friend, and come see what we've brought you."

"If I'm to put up with you and your friend, it had better be an entire barrel of rum," Valyrym muttered under his breath as he began to pad along after Alia and Kaylen.

"Actually, that comes later," Alia said with a little giggle. "It should be delivered within a few days at most."

"Really?" The dragon lifted his head, grinning. "You're getting me a barrel of rum?"

"Good rum, too." Alia tossed her hair as she glanced back at the dragon over her shoulder. "It was going to be a surprise, but after last night, I think you've earned a little happiness in advance."

" I see," the dragon murmured to himself. He gazed at Kaylen as he followed them across the vast chamber, wondering just how much of his story Alia had related to her friend.

"What were all those images back there, that'd you'd carved along that wall?" Kaylen turned around, and walked backwards for a little while so she could regard the dragon.

"My life," the dragon said with a snort. "Such as it was."

"Oooh!" Kaylen giggled happily, clasping her hands in front of her breasts. "I should be delighted to see that."

"And I should be delighted if you did not." Valyrym clattered his tail spines against the floor.

"Oh, don't be a grumpy old lizard." Kaylen clucked her tongue as though speaking to a cranky child who did not wish to take his nap. "I'm only curious. You're the only dragon I've ever known, and I can hardly imagine what sort of life you must have lived."

"Consider yourself lucky," the dragon rumbled beneath his breath. Alia cast the dragon another glance, smiling. "You could tell her the good parts."

"The good parts inevitably lead to the bad." The dragon flicked his ears. Haunted ghosts drifted behind his eyes a moment, and he looked away.

Alia came to a stop. She turned around, and took the dragon's scaly head in her arms, hugging it against her body. "I know they do. But unless you don't want me to, I think I'd like to tell Kaylen and Thomas some of the good parts."

The dragon growled against Alia, closing his eyes. "If you must."

Valyrym's gruff response was all the acquiescence Alia could hope for. She gently stroked his throat a little bit, holding him a few moments longer. "They should know how you fought for, Valyrym."

"Myself, mostly," the dragon said, pulling his head back. Alia laughed, they both knew that wasn't true. But Valyrym had his appearances to keep up in front of Kaylen, at least for a little while longer. "Now stop delaying my meal. Where is my food?"

Alia patted the dragons nose, and lead him the rest of the way across the chamber. A few torches flickered near the door, and a lantern now hung from another sconce near the stony ledges where the women had set the dragon's food. It seemed as though they'd brought both food and light and perhaps with the assistance of a few servants as well. Valyrym was a little surprised to realize just how wrapped up in his carving he'd been. Over the years he'd grown used to ignoring people in his chamber while he worked. Some days it was guards taunting him in an attempt to make him lash out so they'd have an excuse to punish him. Other days it was some idiot former warden babbling about his new rules and this and that. As the decades passed they'd all blended together into one massive string of irritation that Valyrym had grown very good at blocking out when he was busy carving.

Now if Alia was going to bring her friends by more often, he supposed he'd have to start paying a little more attention. Valyrym hadn't really expected Alia to make a habit of bringing her friends down, and seeing Kaylen standing alongside her surprised the dragon. Though, he could not say he was disappointed to see Alia had not come alone. Before the subject of Aran'alia had come up the old dragon had actually been enjoying himself. After all it had been ages since he'd had a chance to simply sit and converse with friends.

Were they his friends?

Alia certainly was, but he was not so sure about Thomas and Kaylen. It certainly seemed as though Kaylen wished to be his friend, though from her attitude the dragon surmised she was happy to be anyone's friend given a chance. Then again, that wasn't such a bad thing. Thomas he wasn't so sure about, though the young man had seemed to warm up to the dragon after a little while. And even if they were not his friends, Valyrym had to admit that he'd enjoyed seeing them socializing with Alia. He'd even enjoyed sharing in that for a while. Though, he'd never admit as much to their faces.

Valyrym's gray nostrils twitched at the end of his black muzzle as he reached the far side of the room, near the area they'd walled up after chaining him inside. A strangely familiar scent was wafting from the ledge. For a moment, he couldn't place it. It smelt vaguely of wood smoke, as though someone was trying to coax damp, smoldering wood into full flame. Yet it also smelled like...He sniffed a few more times. Smelled like...

"...Is that smoked fish?" The dragon asked softly, as he climbed up onto the ledge.

Alia, beaming, seated herself next to the tray covered with the nostalgic delicacies. "It is," Alia said, beckoning the dragon over. "Come and make yourself comfortable. I'll see if I can get them scaled for you." She giggled a little. "Though I doubt I can do it as well as Valar."

Valyrym found himself smiling despite his best intentions not too. "Valar practically made learning to properly scale smoked fish his life's work."

"Who's Valar?" Kaylen asked innocently enough as she settled nearby.

Valyrym gave a long sigh as he gingerly lowered himself down onto his belly. Then he rolled to his side a little bit, stretching his hind legs out lazily. He turned his gaze onto Kaylen a moment, doing what he could to keep the golden walls intact. There was little he could do to hide his pain from Alia now, but he did not need everyone human who came to visit him to know just how deeply his old wounds had truly cut him. He licked his muzzle a moment, watching her as if considering whether or not her question was worth answering.

Finally, Valyrym simply said, "He is my son."

"Ooooh," Kaylen cooed, grinning. "Was that him on the wall thing over there? The little dragon puppy?"

Valyrym flared up his central spines as Alia stuffed her half her fist into her mouth to keep from laughing. "We do not call our young puppies! But yes..." The dragon eased his tone, but kept glaring at the lightly plump young woman. "That is him on the 'wall thing' as you call it." Valyrym waved a paw in the air, waggling a few unsheathed claws. "You're nearly as bad as the other one who was here."

"Thomas?" Kaylen canted her head, and then quickly shook it. Dark tresses waved back and forth in front of her face. "Oh, no, no, no. I'm not near as bad as Thomas. Thomas is far too stuffy to be any fun."

Alia smiled to herself. She worked with the simple knife, trying to de-scale the smoke bronzed fish. Her first few attempts were awkward, and she ended up shaving as much meat off the fish as she did scales. With a heavy sigh, Kaylen reached over and took the entire tray from her, then held out her hand for the knife. With a sheepish look, Alia passed the blade to her friend.

"So dragons don't like to eat the scales on fish?" Kaylen glanced up at Valyrym as she began to work.

"Do you?" Valyrym snapped.

"No, but I haven't got big, sharp, pointy teeth, either." Kaylen giggled to herself. With deft and practiced motions she quickly removed the scales from one side of a fish, flipped it over and did the same.

"Valyrym gets the scales all over his face," Alia confided in her friend, just loud enough to make sure Valyrym heard it too.

"Oh, just like the frosting from that cake?" Kaylen giggled even louder then before.

Valyrym lifted his ears and bared a few of his fangs at Kaylen. "So says the one who poured half the rum all over herself."

"And the other half of it went right down your gullet," Kaylen replied, scaling another fish. "But none of us complained about you hogging it all."

"I should send Val Junior to bite you," Valyrym muttered, flicking his tail. He glanced back the way they'd come. The stone-carved timeline was mostly shrouded in gloom on the other side of the chamber. Val Junior may as well have been playing hide and seek with the shadows themselves. "But I left him to carry on my carving while I'm away."

"It's just the same," Kaylen giggled. "He and I got to be friends last night. He'd never bite me now."

"No," Valyrym mused as much to himself as to the others. "I suppose he wouldn't."

"But he would bite Thomas," Alia said with a smile as she shared a private joke with the dragon.

"Hard and often," Valyrym said in agreement. Then he turned his attention down to Kaylen who had already scaled at least a dozen of the smoked fish they'd brought. "You're quite good at that. My son would have been proud."

Kaylen smiled up at the dragon. "I've spent a lot of time in the kitchen here. Even when I was young, I used to help my mother do the cooking and such around the house. Why would that make your son proud, though?" Kaylen tilted her head. "Was he a chef?"

Valyrym blinked at the ludicrousness of that statement. He was just about to spit a venomous retort belittling the very idea when an image popped into his head. He saw Valar standing in Amaleen's kitchen, reared up on his hind legs. With a spoon clutched in one paw, he was stirring a great pot of soup. With his other paw, he was trying to keep the oversized white chef's hat he was wearing from falling down over his eyes and the rest of his snout. Behind him the whole wall was covered in hanging fish being smoked, and as Valar didn't know any better then to smoke them indoors, the entire kitchen was quickly filling up with gray clouds.

The image of Valaranyx wearing a giant floppy chefs hat while smoking fish and stirring soup was too much for Valyrym to handle. It struck him just right and the old dragon burst out laughing. Valyrym was soon laughing so hard his wings were shaking and his tail spines were rattling against the floor. Alia and Kaylen simply exchanged looks. Alia shrugged, and soon she was giggling alongside the dragon. Finally, Valyrym lifted a paw to wipe a mirthful tear from one of his golden eyes. He shook his head, and gave a happy sigh.

"Ah, my dear girl, thank you." Val licked his nose, smiling. "I certainly needed that. No, my son was by no means a chef. Nor has any dragon ever been a chef, unless you count setting our prey on fire to be a culinary skill. But you have left me with the desire to a find a pillar somewhere, and carve little Valar upon it wearing an oversized chef's hat falling over his eyes."

Alia giggled a little more, and so did Kaylen. Then she glanced at Alia, whispering. "I still don't know why scaling fish would make his son proud."

"Because Kaylen, it's quite simple. In fact I can sum it up with a poem." Alia looked up at Val, and made a show of clearing her throat. She gestured dramatically in the air with her hands as though about recite some grand and sweeping epic. "Smoked Fishy, yum yum yum! Smoked Fishy..."

"In my tum," Valyrym finished Valar's poem for her, grinning widely. His fangs glittered in the lantern light, his golden eyes glowed. "Yes, that sums it up nicely, I think."

Kaylen gave the dragon a baffled look that was matched only by the confused glance she shot Alia as she scaled the last of the fish. "You two are odd."

Valyrym waved dismissively at Alia with a forepaw. "She's the odd one. I am quite normal by the standards of a dragon." He cocked his head, spines drooping a little. "Or at least the standards of a dragon held for decades beneath the earth."

Valyrym gazed up at the rain coming through one of the skylights. For a moment, Alia could almost see the rain reflecting silver in the dragon's gaze. He blinked, and turned his head away, and then chuckled to himself. Soon, Val reached for one of the smoked fish, and plucked it up off the tray between two claws. He held it aloft and gazed at the de-scaled fish with a strange mixture of longing, sorrow, and happiness.

"They're not the same fish you'd get in Aran'alia, obviously," Alia said. "But they're the closest I could get you."

"Oh Alia," Valyrym said, his voice growing softer. "They are perfect." Slowly, the sorrow Alia saw in the dragon's eyes was replaced by warmth and happiness. "Thank you, Alia."

As Valyrym popped the first fish into his mouth, Alia moved around the tray to put her hand atop his other paw. She smiled up at him, and stroked his leg a little. "You are ever so welcome, Valyrym."

Valyrym savored the smoky taste of the still-familiar treat and Alia's kind thoughtfulness equally. As he slowly chewed it up, he began to purr. He made no effort to hide it from Kaylen this time, and soon the sound of heavy stones tumbling about inside a wooden barrel was emanating loudly enough from the dragon to nearly rattle the scales on his throat.

"I like your purr," Kaylen said, smiling up at him. "You should not hide it so."

Valyrym reached for another fish, and even offered Kaylen a smile. "To better answer your earlier question, Alia brought me these because they hold a special significance to me. My son would have been proud of your fish-scaling ability because out of all the various and wonderful treats you humans have concocted, smoked fish were his all time favorite food."

"Aww," Kaylen giggled a little, glancing at Alia with a smile. "That's so sweet of you Alia." Then she peered back up to the dragon, licking her lips. "But how did your son get to eat smoked fish? Didn't you live in a cave, or something?"

Valyrym was in too good a mood now to let painful memories sully his time with Alia, or his meal. "My dear woman, you have no idea of the enormity of what you're asking. Suffice it to say that while we did live in a cavern for a time, we also lived together in a human village." He chewed the fish thoughtfully, then added, "In Aran'alia."

Kaylen softened her tone a little bit, leaning back onto her hands. "Thomas and I thought as much. That was your old home, wasn't it. We didn't mean to upset you last night."

"I know," Valyrym said, taking another fish and handing it to Alia. Then he waved at the tray. "Go on then, Kaylen. Help yourself."

"I thought you'd never ask!" Kaylen took up one of the smoked fish in her hands, and heedless of the oily nature of the meat quickly began to pick it from the bones and pop it into her mouth. "Oh, it's lovely!"

"Yes," Valyrym murmured, smiling down at Alia. "It certainly is."

Alia took the fish that Valyrym offered her, and moved to lean up against the dragon's body while she ate it. Valyrym peered down at her a moment, noticing for the first time just what she was wearing. The blue dress fit her well, the way it darkened as it blossomed out around the bottom made it look like an indigo flower swishing around her sandaled feet. He curled a foreleg around her middle, uncaring that Kaylen was there. If he could be affectionate to Amaleen in front of an entire town, he could damn sure show Alia the same affection in front of a single person.

"I think this may only be the second time I've seen you in a dress," Valyrym mused, his tail curling.

"This is the only nice one I have," Alia admitted, laughing. "I bought it a few years ago, when I first got a job at the castle. I have that more casual blue sundress, I like to wear that now and then. But this is the only formal dress I have."

"I remember that," Kaylen said, depositing some fish bones back on the tray. Unlike the dragon she couldn't exactly eat them whole. "You should wear it more often, it looks lovely on you."

"It does," Valyrym agreed. "You look beautiful, Alia."

Alia felt her face flush a little. She hoped the orange glow of the lantern would cover up the reddening of her cheeks. Though she was an attractive enough woman, beautiful was not a word she'd heard often from most of the men she'd been with. She'd heard it from Thomas, back when things were different between them, but it had been a while now. She found herself smiling as she stroked the dragon's leg.

"Thank you, Valyrym." She glanced away a moment, smiling to herself. "I hoped you'd like it."

"My pleasure, Alia," the dragon rumbled softly.

"What about my dress?" Kaylen said, playfully indicating her maid's uniform.

Valyrym turned his attention back to the other woman, hoping she wasn't expecting a serious answer. Her dress was layered in stripes of black and white fabric. It managed the rare feat of looking both formal and ludicrous. Valyrym scrunched up his muzzle and shook his head, grinning. "You look like the jester mated with the maid."

Kaylen giggled and scrunched up her nose in the best approximation of the dragon she could manage. "I'm not exactly sure what that means." She began to pick some meat off the bones of another fish, licking her fingers. "I mean, even if a jester and a maid had a child together, how would she give birth to a dress?"

"Quit while you're ahead, Kaylen," Alia advised her friend with a giggle.

Valyrym snorted as he helped himself to another fish as well. "That's nice of you to let her think she was ever ahead in the first place."

Kaylen stuck her tongue out at the dragon. Valyrym resisted the urge to poke it back into her mouth with a finger. For a moment, he wondered if all Aran'alian women shared that gesture. Then he simply did the same thing he would have done to Amaleen, or Alia at this point. He let his own long pink tongue hang from his snout, as close as he could come to sticking it out at her.

Kaylen burst out giggling, shaking her head. "It's not quite the same when a dragon does it! You look as though you're about to lick the platter clean. Or perhaps about to vomit." Kaylen peered up at the dragon for a moment, grinning. "It sure is long and red though, isn't it."

"Yes, girl, I assure you," Valyrym purred ,grinning at Alia. "It is quite long and red."

"Pppbbtttt!" Alia made a funny noise as she did all she could not to burst out laughing at that statement. Soon she covered her mouth with her hand, laughing into her palm as her cheeks flushed a little more red.

Valyrym turned his head to gaze down at her a moment, flaring his spines a little in mock concern. "Are you having a fit, Alia?"

Alia shook her head, still giggling into her hand.

"I don't know what was so funny about my description of your tongue," Kaylen said, giving Alia an odd look. She hooked some dark hair behind an ear.

"I don't think my tongue is what she thought of when you said long, and red." Valyrym's voice was as oily as the fish they dined upon as he smirked down at Alia.

Alia slapped the dragon on the foreleg, glaring up at him. As she couldn't yet take her hand away from her mouth lest she be completely consumed by the giggles that threatened to rattle her very bones, the dragon ignored her attempts to quell his misbehavior.

"Oh?" Kaylen glanced up at the dragon, innocent as could be. "Then what else is long and red that's got her giggling like a little schoolgirl?"

Valyrym tilted his head a little, narrowing his golden eyes. That sounded suspiciously like Kaylen was in on the joke. She'd displayed a rather well hidden cleverness the other night, and now the dragon wondered if perhaps Kaylen knew exactly what he was talking about. If that was the case, she seemed as amused by Alia's embarrassment as Valyrym was. Whatever the case, she continued to pick at the fish, like her fingers, and smile like a dolt.

"You've a lot more cleverness hidden in that little head then you let on, don't you."

Kaylen shrugged and grinned at the dragon. "I like to think so."

Alia slowly pulled her head away from her mouth, taking a few deep breaths. Then she slapped the dragon the foreleg again, a little harder then before. "You behave, you big scaly brat!"

Valyrym yelped though he was hardly in any pain. It was simply the principal of the thing. "What are you yelling at me for? You're the one who was giggling because you couldn't stop thinking of my..." He flicked his gaze to Kaylen, wondering if she really knew or if it just seemed that way.

Oh, she knew. "Were you thinking of the dragon's penis, Alia?"

Alia gasped, and went as red as the organ in question. For a moment, she looked horrified, her eyes bulging, mouth agape. And then Valyrym burst out laughing so hard the old dragon nearly toppled over. Kaylen started laughing as well, and soon Alia was doing everything she could to glare at the two of them at once. She cocked her head back and forth in a way that made her look like a curious bird, and that only made the other two laugh even harder. She couldn't decide who was more deserving of her anger, and so she just took it out on Valyrym.

"You shut up!" Alia said, smacking the dragon on his scaly haunches. "It's not funny!"

"Oh, but it is!" Valyrym only laughed harder. "You should have seen the look on your face when your friend said dragon's penis! I thought your poor eyes were going to pop right out of your sockets and you'd have to go chase them around, feeling about on your hands and knees."

Alia huffed, folding her arms under her breasts and glaring at Valyrym a moment longer. Then she glanced over at Kaylen. "I can't believe you said that."

"Well, I wasn't sure at first." Kaylen dropped a pile of fish bones back on the platter and dusted off her hands, grinning. "But then I thought, what could have her giggling so much, that the dragon might describe as long and red?"

"I'm just impressed you know what color it is," Valyrym said, his rumbling laugh still echoing around the chamber.

"I didn't," Kaylen said, shrugging. Her grin only grew wider. "It was the fact you called it long that clued me in. What male in the world wouldn't call his own member long? Usually the longer they claim it is, the smaller it is in reality."

"It's the same for Valyrym," Alia snapped, punching the dragon on his scaly haunch once again.

"It most certainly is not," the dragon said, hissing in protest.

"I'm actually more curious about how Alia would know, then how big it actually is," Kaylen said, her giggle a bubbling sound.

"He gets erections in the tub," Alia snapped as much to embarrass the dragon as to actually explain anything. Though she hardly wished to go around telling people just what she did with the dragon in private, if there was anyone who would not only keep it to herself but not judge her for it, it was Kaylen. Then again, the more Alia heard of her people's old lands from Valyrym, the more she realized there was a time when few of them would have cared what she did with a dragon. "One moment I'm helping him to bathe his back where he can't reach, and the next there's a red dagger jutting out under his belly!"

Valyrym snapped his jaws at Alia, glaring. "And the next moment, you're bathing that, too!"

"And the moment after that," Alia shot right back at him, her hands balled up into fists. "And I'm remarking on what a tiny little stiletto it really is!"

Kaylen was laughing harder and harder with each verbal shot the dragon and woman fired at each other. Stiletto was almost too much, and she couldn't help adding in. "Oh, is it all curvy and wavy like some of those little assassins' daggers?"

"Certainly not!" Valyrym whipped his head around to glare at the woman. "It is not little, and it is not curvy. It has a lovely arch, and it is quite large! In fact, it's not a dagger, it's a scimitar!"

"Actually, it's a morning star," Alia remarked, starting to laugh again. "It's all swollen at the end and covered with spikes."

That made Kaylen laugh so hard she topped over onto her side atop the stone ledge. For a moment all she could do was laugh and clutch her suddenly aching ribs. "Oh! Stop, stop! I can't even breathe any more!"

Valyrym stared down at his own sheath a moment as if imagining his tool in such a way. "Now that does sound like something to see." He smirked at Alia. "Perhaps we should have a little fun later, and let your friend watch. Show her what it really looks like."

"I think we've let Kaylen in on enough of your little secrets," Alia said, trying to smooth out her dress as she moved to her knees for a moment. Then she shook her finger at the dragon's gray-marked muzzle, glaring at him. "Now you behave yourself, or I'm going to have to buy myself a paddle and give you a serious spanking."

"Oh," the dragon said with mock reverence. "By all means, Mistress. Just tell me when to present my haunches." He tossed his head, clicking his teeth. "That would be the day."

"Present them at once, dragon!" Alia put as much fire in her voice as she could without falling back into giggles.

Valyrym pulled his head back, his neck curling into an S-shape. His golden eyes were narrowed to thin slits, faintly shining in the gloom of the dungeon. Alia glared right back at him, and a smirk tugged at the corners of Valyrym's muzzle. He slowly rose to his feet, and turned around, making sure to swing his tail just above Alia's head. Much to his dismay, she didn't flinch at all. Now that she knew he would never do anything to hurt her, it was going to be far more difficult to intimidate her. Or her friends, for that matter.

Soon Valyrym stood with his haunches presented to the two woman, his spined tail slightly raised. "Well? Now what?"

"Now you're going to stand there like that while my friend and I make snide remarks about you."

"Such as?" The dragon turned his head to gaze back at them around his body, grinning.

"He's quite a pair of balls, hasn't he," Kaylen said with a little giggle.

"Such as that," Alia giggled as well.

"Hardly snide." Valyrym rustled his wings a bit. "More of a compliment, really."

"Good point," Alia said. "Try something like this Kaylen. She leaned over to whisper into her friends ear."

Kaylen nodded, grinning. "He certainly is eager to present himself. I can't tell if he's more desperate to have female eyes roaming his body, or if he's just that excited to be paddled."

"Hey!" Valyrym snapped his jaws. "It is neither of those things! And no fair helping." He started to lower his tail, about to turn around.

Alia put her hand against his tail, grinning. "Tail up, Dragon! You get a paddling for your misbehavior."

Valyrym huffed, tossing his head again. "As if you've got anything to paddle me with besides your hands, anyway. Go on then, give me your worst." Then he blinked and quickly amended himself. "But leave my balls out of it!"

"You'd be lucky," Alia giggled, though she had something else in mind.

Alia scooped up the tray, now divested of it's fishy cargo. She swiftly dumped all the bones onto a neat little pile before Valyrym could figure out what she was up too. Then Alia quickly rose to her feet, and swung the wooden tray sharply against the dragon's rump. The wooden platter impacted Valyrym's haunches with a rather loud clap! Valyrym yelped in pained surprise, so startled he jumped enough for all four paws to leave the ground a moment.

"OW!" The dragon yowled, then hissed at them, glaring back. "That hurt!"

In lieu of reply, Alia simply walloped the dragon on the rump once more with the tray, this time even harder then before. Valyrym yelped again, stumbling for a second, glaring at the two of them over his wings. "That hurts! Cut it out!"

"I think I heard some scales crack, that time," Alia remarked casually to Kaylen.

Kaylen rose to her own feet, folding her arms as if coldly observing some wicked beast's punishment. "He complains a lot, but I don't see him lowering his tail or turning back around."

Valyrym snarled and flared out his spines at that comment. "That's only because I was planning to do this!"

The dragon took a few steps forward out of range, and quickly coiled his long tail around Alia. She gave a startled squeak, holding the platter up over her head. Then she started laughing, wriggling against the grasp of the dragons tail. She managed to toss the platter over to her friend who caught it, and grinned wickedly at the dragon.

"Ooh, it's my turn to spank you, Dragon!"

"Don't you even think about it!" Valyrym hissed, taking a few steps around the large ledge on which they all stood.

"Mind the edge, Valyrym," Alia warned him. "I'm not sure I can descend it stuck in your damn tail without falling flat on my face!" She prodded at one of the spines sticking out near her body. "And watch it with these things, too."

The dragon ignored her, and began to circle back around towards Kaylen. Kaylen did almost the same thing, walking around the dragon in an attempt to get behind him again. "Shall I paddle his haunches again, Alia?"

"No," Alia said, slapping the dragon's tail. "Get him right in the balls, this time!"

"Oh, even better!" Kaylan giggled to herself, threateningly swatting the tray against her hand as though demonstrating an oversized paddle. "Right in the balls, then!"

"Oh no," Valyrym snarled, whirling around to face Kaylen fast enough to make Alia squeal a little. "No one's getting me in the balls but Alia!"

Alia burst out laughing behind him, and he glanced back at her over his gray edged wings. "That's not what I meant!" He snorted, and turned his eyes back to Kaylen, circling her again. "What I meant is, only she is allowed to get away with it!"

"Oh, so you're going to let her get go so that she can hit you there?" Kaylen grinned, darting sideways to try and get around the dragon. "That seems fair!"

"It's not fair to my balls!" The dragon said, though Valyrym was soon laughing too. Sore rump or not, he was having fun. The last time he'd gotten this playful with anyone...well, he had long since lost count of those years. Certainly before Amaleen's death. The thought gave Valyrym a sudden image, a memory of Amaleen chasing him around her backyard, threatening him with a snowball while Kylaryn encouraged her to aim for his testicles. That only made him laugh harder as he began to trot around in circles atop the ledge, Alia laughing behind him.

"Slow down, Lizard!" Alia cried out. "I'm gonna trip"

"Then call off your friend," Valyrym replied. He turned just a little, lifted a hind paw and pushed it out against Kaylen, shoving her hard enough to send her stumbling back but not enough to send her toppling over. "Truce, Truce!"

"I'll call her off if you take back what you said!"

Valyrym twisted around, darting away from a laughing, red-faced Kylaryn once more. "But I don't remember what I said!"

"Then take back everything!" Alia grasped one of the dragon's tail spines and tugged it back and forth, trying to loosen his grip around her. Even during his story, Alia had scarcely realized just how prehensile his tail could be till it was wrapped around her.

"Stop that," Valyrym snapped at her, curling his tail tighter. "Those things are anchored to me!"

"Last chance dragon!" Alia laughed, still yanking at the spine. "Take it back, or my assistant lodges her boot in your testicles!"

"I'm not wearing boots," Kaylen said, pausing to peer down at her rather plain looking servant's shoes. "And I thought I was supposed to use the tray?"

"You're missing the point, Kaylen!" Alia called out to her, shifting her tactics. She tried to grab at the end of Valyrym's tail to unwind it from her body.

"I'm sensing disorganization among your ranks," the dragon said, spinning around once more, careful not to yank Alia about too sharply. "Attack!"

Kaylen squealed as the dragon charged right at her. She backpedaled but before she could get away Valyrym was upon her. He pressed his paw to her shoulder and shoved her to the floor, though he was gentle enough not to hurt her. Then he pushed the same paw against her chest to hold her to the floor, using his tail to keep Alia at a safe distance. Kaylen went to swing the tray down onto Valyrym's soft looking nose, but Valyrym was prepared. In an instant he'd snapped his teeth into the tray, then jerked his head to the side. The makeshift paddle was yanked from Kaylen's hands and tossed off of the ledge. It clattered against the stone as it skidded away.

"There," Valyrym said. "Now, we negotiate our truce."

"Never surrender!" Kaylen said, giggling and wiggling beneath the dragon's paw. She lashed out with her few a shoe times, playfully trying to get the dragon in the balls with it, though he kept himself well out of range. "Damn, Alia, I can't reach the chink in his armor!"

"No, you can't," Valyrym smirked with a purr. "What you may not realize is I have played games like this with humans before."

From behind the dragon, Alia started laughing again. "You pinned Amaleen and she kicked you in the balls, didn't she."

Valyrym winced, a sheepish grin spread over his muzzle. "Quite hard, too." He glanced back at Alia, mischeviousness shining in his golden eyes. "Took me about three attempts to find the best way to pin a human down safely. The key is not to stand directly over their feet."

"That seems like it should be pretty obvious, actually," Alia grinned, stroking the dragon's tail.

"Yes, well." Valyrym snorted and licked his nose, grinning down at the other woman pinned under his paw. "You try pinning down a wriggling human woman, while a dragoness nearby is yelling, get him in the balls, get him in the balls!" He winced again, then gave Alia another sheepish look alongside his body. "They didn't have to cheer when she finally got me, though. That was uncalled for!"

"Oh?" Alia tilted her head, her blue ribbon-wrapped ponytail falling over her shoulder. "I was going to cheer if Kaylen got you."

"I'd be disappointed if you didn't," Valyrym admitted, grinning. "Now, my bargaining terms. You two cease your quest to slay my unsired hatchlings, and I shall let you take a victory lap..."

"That doesn't sound like a very good deal," Kaylen said, trying to pry the dragon's fingers off of her body.

"...Upon my back," the dragon finished.

"Ooooh!" Kaylen's eyes went wide. "I accept!"

Valyrym smiled. In truth, the reward was hardly meant for Kaylen, but that was alright. He meant to offer Alia a chance to ride on his back, but he didn't want the other woman to end up left out. Assuming, of course, that such an offer meant as much to Alia as he was hoping it would. Judging from the brilliant smile stretched across her ruby lips and the excited joy dancing about in her green eyes, it did.

"I'd love to ride your back, Valyrym," Alia said as the dragon slowly uncurled his tail from her. She quickly walked around in front of him, and hugged his neck. She kissed his scales a little bit. "I've been hoping you'd offer, because I was afraid I'd insult you if I asked."

Valyrym laughed, and lowered his head to nuzzle her cheek, then lick her. "At this point in our friendship, Alia, there is very little you could do to insult me without working extremely hard towards that end."

"While it's touching to see my best friend all lovey-dovey with a wicked old dragon who's not so wicked after all..." Kaylen said, squirming beneath Valyrym's paw. "It would be a lot more touching if you'd let me the hell up!"

"Oh. Right. You." Valyrym smirked down at her a moment. "I suppose I could let you up. If I must."

"Unless you want me to go back to trying to whack you in the balls!" Kaylen harrumphed and glared up at the dragon.

"Not something I have to worry about if I don't let you up..."

Alia giggled and grabbed the dragon's ear. She twisted it a little till he yelped. "Just let her up, you scaly old bastard."

"I am not a bastard," Valyrym muttered, but he lifted his paw to let Kaylen wriggle free.

Once Kaylen squirmed her way out from under the dragons grasp, she pushed herself back to her feet, and dusted off her black and white dress. Soon she was giggling again and bouncing about on the balls of her feet. "Oh, that was so much fun! I'd never have guessed dragons could be so...well...playful!"

"There's a lot of things about dragons you wouldn't have guessed," Alia said, speaking Valyrym's mind for him. "A lot of things you should know. The fact that they could be so happy and playful with their friends is just one of many facets to Valyrym's species I've come to understand."

Kaylen smiled at that. She reached out and gently rubbed the dragon's nose the way she'd seen Alia doing. "I wasn't really going to hit you in the balls, Dragon."

Valyrym smirked under her hand. "Liar."

Kaylen only gave him a wicked grin, still stroking his nose. "You're quite soft around your nose, aren't you."

Before long, Valyrym was purring for the two women. Kaylen rubbed his nose and Alia caressed the scales of his neck, and Valyrym felt lovely and content and relaxed. It was a strange thing for him. Even in the time since he'd first met Alia he hadn't gotten this overtly playful with her. It was almost as if he'd forgotten how to simply have fun. Not that he could blame himself. But after the mental and emotional toll that telling Alia his story had wrought upon him, perhaps he simply needed the release of playful times with friends. Gods knew he missed his friends. Missed those times with the other dragons, with Amaleen. This was the closet he'd come in a long time, and he intended to savor it as long as he could.

"So dragons often get playful with your friends like this?" Kaylen asked anyone willing to answer.

"We do," Valyrym replied, his eyes half lidded in satisfaction from all the petting. "But we have a reputation to uphold, you see. And outside of my old home in Aran'alia, I rather doubt many humans have ever had a chance to see dragons relaxing and playing with their friends."

"So, does this mean..." Kaylen paused a moment. She bit her lip, and began to rub the dragon under his gray-scaled chin. She smiled at the adorable way the old beast tilted his horned head back while she scratched at his warm, pebbly scales. "...Are we friends, now?"

Valyrym turned his head a moment to glare at her through a single golden eye. "Don't ruin it."

"That's a yes," Alia assured her friend, grinning. "Which I'm very glad to hear! You could use a few more friends, Valyrym. I think Thomas would like to be your friend, too. I'd wager even Enric would enjoy your friendship, if you'd offer it."

"Thomas is a stuffy little bootlicker, and Enric is a bossy Illandran with a spear who's too clever for his own good." The dragon closed his eyes, growling.

"Well, I don't know who Enric is," Kaylen said, giggling. "But he's right about Thomas. He is a stuffy little bootlicker."

"Enric is the guard I've put in charge of making sure no one gets down here without my permission," Alia explained, smirking. "Valyrym's just being cranky because he knows Enric is a good man who wants to see the dragon cared for just as well as I do. Valyrym just doesn't like to admit that he needs to be cared for. Or that other people might actually care about him. Like Enric."

"You and Enric can both suck my..."

"So it's settled then!" Alia cut him off. "Thomas and Enric will both be your new friends."

"I'm surprised he wants Enric to suck it for him," Kaylen giggled. "Do you like other human males, Valyrym, or only Enric?"

Valyrym turned his head to glare at Kaylen. "You're on dangerous ground, Woman. I don't recall giving you permission to use my name." When the two women only giggled at him, Valyrym sighed and made a show of hanging his head and letting his droop. "I remember back when being a dragon assured you instant respect!"

"Been a long time since those days," Alia said, grinning and patting his shoulder.

Valyrym snorted and flared up his spines, lifting his head again. "So it has. Are you two going to ride me, or just stand around teasing me all day?"

"Both." Alia took Kaylen by the hand, and lead her around the side of the dragon. "Now lay down, Val. Is there any trick to climbing upon your back without injuring myself?"

"I'm more worried about being the one who's injured," Valyrym muttered. He slowly eased himself down onto his belly, pushing his front legs out in front of himself like a dog getting comfortable beside his master's table. "Just don't grab my wing joint too tightly. Or my horns, or my ears. Come to think of it, I'm going to keep my head out in front of myself completely."

Alia put her hands on her hips, looking the dragon over. She studied his form, and then smiled. Alia ushered Kaylen out of the way, took a few steps back, and then ran towards the dragon. She vaulted off the ground, stuck a foot against the dragon's shoulder and used the leverage to leap the rest of the way up onto his back. As Alia settled down against him, Valyrym turned his head to peer back at her, golden eyes a little bit, his neck spines raised.

"That was quite impressive, actually."

"Yes, it was," Kaylen said in agreement. "Just don't expect me to do the same thing."

Alia grinned, leaning over the dragon's side to offer her hand to Kaylen. The other young woman took it, and between her own efforts to scrabble up the dragon's scaly body, and Alia's own work pulling the woman up, Kaylen soon enough settled against the dragon's back as well. Both women spent a few moments adjusting the skirts of their dresses best they could to get comfortable without ripping the fabric.

"Having trouble?" The dragon said, smirking back at them. "When I was going to take Amaleen flying, she used to wear breeches."

"Figures you invite me to ride you the one time I'm wearing a dress," Alia muttered, hiking it up a little bit.

"Was hoping you'd have to take it off, actually," the dragon purred, his smirk growing wider.

"What a naughty beast your dragon is," Kaylen said, giggling to herself.

"Yes, he's quite the legend in his own mind," Alia said, patting the dragon's neck once she was settled best she could.

"You can both ride me naked, if you wish," Valyrym said as he carefully started forward.

"You'd be so lucky," Kaylen said, slapping his wing joint.

"Ow," the dragon snapped, glancing back. "Our wing joints are tender, you know."

"Good. Then I'll do it again." Kaylen did just that, making the dragon yelp a second time. Then with a smirk of her own, she shook her finger at the dragon. "You're going to have to get to know me a lot better first if you expect me to get naked for you."

"Ah," the dragon said, stepping down off the ledge. He did so as carefully as he could to avoid jarring either of the ladies riding his back anymore then necessary. The jolt was still enough to make Kaylen squeak and wrap her arms around Alia's middle. After stepping down, the dragon added, "So I will get to see you naked in the future, then. Good to know."

"That is not what I said," Kaylen said with a little gasp, though she was soon giggling to Alia.

"You'll get used to him actually," Alia assured her, giggling right back.

"I've a wit like a razor," Valyrym said as he began to walk along the wall of his prison.

"A dull razor," Alia said right back.

"Better a dull wit then a half-wit," Valyrym said, flicking his tail spines against the floor.

"Yes, the only thing you've a half portion of is modesty," Alia giggled.

"Modesty is for those without any outstanding traits of which to be proud," the dragon informed her, grinning back at the two women. "How's the ride?"

"Wonderful," Alia breathed softly, gently stroking the dragon's neck.

Wonderful scarcely defined it. Alia had ridden horses before, and always enjoyed it. But this was nothing like that. Riding a dragon felt almost indescribably powerful. She could feel the beast's muscles rippling beneath her body, he bore her with casual ease even after all his long years in the dungeon. But more then the sheer power and grace of the beast beneath her, riding Valyrym lifted Alia's heart to the skies even as his wings were trapped beneath the stony ceiling. Alia now knew what it meant to a dragon to let a human ride upon them. In all his young years, Valyrym had let only a handful of humans ride upon his back. From Lenira, the woman who found his heart, to Amaleen, the one who opened it wide, to the man who taught Amaleen to heal and all those dying soldiers he simply wished to give hope to. Riding a dragon was very nearly a persona, emotional experience for their kind, something they reserved for so few. And yet he had offered it so openly to Alia, and to her friend as well.

There was still so much goodness and love in Valyrym, if only it came to the surface more often. There was light in him enough to banish the darkness that had wrapped itself around his heart for decades, if he would be let it shine. One way or another, Alia was determined to get that light to shine as brightly as it had in his happiest days. After so many years in the darkness, it was time for Valyrym to find the light again.

As he walked around, Valyrym's mind drifted a little while as well. Despite how often he'd once ferried Amaleen around upon his back, he was a little surprised by just how familiar the weight of a human upon him felt. He had not borne a single human upon his back since the day he buried Amaleen. It was simply not something he'd ever expected to do again.

Even now, it wasn't something he'd planned or thought might happen. It just came to him, in the spur of the moment, that perhaps Alia would like to ride him. And as Kaylen was there, perhaps she would like to ride him as well. After all, though he was hesitant to admit it, he was starting to realize the other woman would make a good friend for him, as well. There was a time that pride would have dictated he let no one ride him save perhaps Alia. Even back in Sigil Stones, no one rode him but Amaleen and the occasional archer.

Yet where had pride lead him?

In truth, there was little pride left in Valyrym anyway. And what little was there was slowly being instilled by Alia. Her concern for him, her seeming awe at his very presence was slowly restoring much of the infamous draconic pride long since shattered by time, guilt, and loneliness. But Alia...Alia reminded him of who he'd once been. Alia reminded him that once, people had feared him. Once, people had loved him. Once, very long ago, there was far more to Valyrym then a bitter old monster trapped for the rest of his life in a stone tomb beneath the earth.

Once, there was The Dread Sky, protector of Aran'alia.

Without realizing it. Valyrym had come to a stop in front of the section of wall where they had bricked him in. Bricked being a relative term, given that each separate stone block would have been difficult for Valyrym to move on his own, let alone an entire wall comprised of many such blocks. While the girls giggled and cavorted upon his back, Valyrym looked over the carving he'd put there, upon all those blocks.

A four pointed star like a compass in the center of a circle. Another circle around it, with swooping lines and archers stretching to the very edge of the wall. In some places they seemed to break the outer circle. It was one of several old Aran'alian Sigils Valyrym could have carved in his sleep at this point. Valyrym cocked his head, staring at it. He didn't realize the girls had gone silent until Kaylen spoke up a few moments later.

"Isn't that what you told Thomas was your escape plan?" Kaylen leaned around Alia to peer at the old wall, long since cut with strange lines and shapes.

"Yes," Valyrym said, chuckling. The escape plan was practically an inside joke he shared with himself.

"That's the freedom sigil, isn't it," Alia said softly. She leaned forward, idly stroking the dragon's black-scaled neck.

"Yes," the dragon said again. He was pleasantly surprised Alia recognized it. "I was not sure my description did justice enough to it for you to recognize it upon the wall, here."

"Freedom sigil?" Kaylen sounded a little confused.

Alia pointed out the shapes with her fingers. "That star in the center indicates the four points of the compass, as if on a map. The arching lines indicating following those directions as far as you choose, in any way you choose. And where they look to be rupturing that outer circle? That indicates breaking through constraints. Freedom."

Valyrym twisted his head around on his long neck, narrowing his eyes. "Where'd you get all that? I didn't tell you that bit."

Alia shrugged and laughed. "Just came to me, actually. Looking at the sigil in person, now, it seemed a pretty accurate representation."

The dragon murmured his approval, flicking his tail back and forth. His spines dragged against the stone with a light grating noise. "I like it. You're a wise woman, Alia. Your ancestors would have been proud."

"You would know," Alia giggled.

"Only if they came from Sigil Stones. If they were from one of the other villages I doubt I would have known them." The dragon mused to himself, licking his nose. "Ironic, though. If they were from Sigil Stones I might well have known them. Not that I knew everyone in town...perhaps it would be better to say that they knew me."

"I never heard anything about a dragon from my mother, but that hardly means anything." Alia leaned back against her friend, who was starting to wish as though she'd heard all the stories from the old dragon too.

"No, I probably would have been long locked away by the time even your grandparents were born. Given the way things turned out, I was..." Valyrym hesitated a moment, and then laughed bitterly. "Probably not a story many of them liked to tell once the war was over."

Alia leaned forward again to stroke the old dragon's black scaled neck with both hands. "You carved that sigil there for a reason, right? That's why you call it your escape plan?"

"Yes, Alia," Valyrym chuckled a little. "But I lacked the necessary ingredients to make the plan work."

"Ghost stones?"

Valyrym smiled, gazing back at the foremost of his two riders. "Clever girl. Yes, ghost stones. Those, and the blood of the Silver Rain people."

"Alia's a Silverrain," Kaylen spoke up, offering Alia's last name even if she had little clue what they were discussing.

"Not quite the same thing," Valyrym chuckled, though he did give Alia an odd look. "I do recall you mentioning that the other night."

"It's my last name," Alia explained, idly tracing circles against the scales of the dragon's back. "I think my family took that name as a connection to our old homeland, when we left."

"I see," the dragon murmured to himself. "You could still be from any part of Aran'alia, originally. But...who knows?" He smiled a little bit. "Perhaps your mother is from Sigil Stones."

Valyrym smiled, and slowly turned away from the wall to pad across his chamber. The two woman atop him shifted back and forth with the dragons slightly limping gait. As he walked, Valyrym mused aloud. "Ironic, isn't it Alia? All these years later, and someone with a silver rain bloodline ends up my caretaker." Valyrym shook his head, laughing under his breath. "...The winds that carry."

"Do you think...I mean...my blood...?"

Valyrym knew what she meant. "You spent your whole life here, right? Away from the actual silver rain." He glanced back at her, then shook his horned head. "So probably not."

"But it's possible, isn't it?"

"Even if it was, we've no ghost stones, and..." Valyrym came to a stop, and slowly turned his head. "Alia...are you talking about...I mean, are you seriously talking about what I think you're talking about?"

Alia leaned forward as far as she could. She met the dragon's gaze, and soon her green eyes were boring deeply into Valyrym's golden ones. For a moment, Alia looked ready to unshackle the dragon's very soul with her spirit alone.

"I told you, Valyrym. You have suffered enough." Alia let that settle in on the dragon before she turned her eyes towards one of the vents and the cloudy sky beyond it. "The winds have carried me to you, that I might set you free."

---

Chapter Four

The next day dawned bright and clear. The sun rose and banished the clouds, and Alia rose with it. She found herself in an excellent mood. How appropriate, she thought, that she was rising with the sun the day after deciding to set Valyrym free. A smile touched her lips as she stepped out of her bed, and remained there as she bathed, dressed and even as she ate breakfast. Thomas shared breakfast with her that morning and seemed quite confounded about why she was so happy. She hadn't yet let him in on her little idea the way she had Kaylen. It wasn't that she didn't trust Thomas, she just didn't feel like listening to him questioning the rationality of her decision.

Not that she yet had any idea how she was going to free the dragon. She had several ideas in mind, though Alia knew it was in fact quite possible she never be able to set Valyrym free. But that would not stop her from trying. Nor would it stop her from feeling so joyous about the prospect. She hoped that joy was mirrored in Valyrym. In truth she couldn't be sure. When she told him, he'd laughed quite hard. It seemed a very happy laugh, as if the dragon was overjoyed just to have someone who cared enough about him to want to set him free. Though, she did not think Valyrym believed her capable. Or, perhaps he just did not believe himself deserving of freedom.

Whatever the case, she wasn't going to tell Thomas about it just yet. But she did offer Thomas a position as her assistant, and he was quick to accept it just as Kaylen was. Alia knew Thomas would make a good friend for Valyrym as well, and as far as she was concerned the more friends the old dragon had the better his life would be. Thomas, like Kaylen, would officially start his new position in a day or two. Alia had a few things to take care of first to make it official. She had to go and talk to their servant master and inform them that she was hiring the her two friends away. Then she had to have contracts drawn up and inform the local treasury officer who handled payments. With any luck they'd be paid through the Warden's Office. If not, she'd just pay them a portion of her own salary. After all she already had more money then she ever thought she'd need.

Alia also fully intended to ensure that Enric became the old beast's friend, as well. Given that the guard was essentially now more in charge of protecting the dragon from others then he was protecting them from the dragon, Alia thought it reasonable he spend plenty of time down in the dungeon himself. When Enric sought her out to her to ask if the dragon was alright, she broached the idea to him. Enric seemed a little unsure the dragon would want one of his guards around that often but Alia brushed his worries aside. She even told him Valyrym considered him to be the most tolerable of all his jailors, and then she assured Enric that was in fact a compliment. For his part, Enric seemed to like the idea and even suggested perhaps he could teach the dragon to play a game of cards or dice to pass the time.

While she spoke with Enric, she also told him of her plan to hire Thomas and Kaylen as her personal assistants. She amended her standing order to allow both Thomas and Kaylen admittance to the dragon's dungeon as freely as she herself came and went. Enric was quite supportive of her idea and promised to pass on the new orders to the other guards. He also informed her that he'd taken the initiative and moved certain guards to duties in other parts of the castle. Enric didn't say why, and Alia didn't ask, but it seemed easy to assume they were the sort of guards more likely to try and cause trouble for Valyrym.

Alia also considered asking about Lord Armadine, the noble she'd beaten the other day, but decided to set that matter aside for now. She had plenty of other things to do, and did not wish to sully her good spirits. With matters of admittance attended, she bid Enric farewell and went about her next task.

Dealing with the servant master was a little bit more of an annoyance then she wished it to be. Servant Master Kesh was an older man, with a face scrunched in a permanent scowl that looked as badly weathered as the outer walls of the castle. He had fraying gray hair that somehow managed to sag limply over some parts of his and stand at frizzy attention across others. Rheumy eyes peered at the women seated across his neatly ordered desk, and he grumbled and muttered about quotas and duties to be done and empty spaces to be filled. The old brown robe he wore clashed with the fanciful adornments and stationary upon his desk. His inkwell was carved ivory, and while Alia couldn't be sure, the quill he kept dipping in it seemed to have been made from a large golden brown gryphon's feather. A tiny, silver replica of Illandra's five towered keep served as an expensive paper weight.

Alia found herself sitting in an uncomfortable, stiff chair. The wood was hard and unyielding, the back not high enough to offer her any support, but plenty high to dig into her spine. A quick glance at the man seated across from her confirmed that his chair was quite the opposite. High backed, the dark wood carved with intricate, knotted designs and adorned with very plush blue cushions. Alia couldn't help but notice the discrepancy between the two chairs, and wondered if that had anything to do with the fact that most of his visitors were likely the servants he employed. Easier to loom over them if they were squirming around in discomfort.

Alia flicked her eyes around the place as she waited for the older man to give her his full attention. The walls were covered with bookshelves positively overflowing with books. Many of which looked to be following apart on the shelves. Pages and leafs of parchment stuck out here and there. Others had already fluttered to the floor, carpeting it like dead leaves in autumn. A few more valuable trinkets sat upon isolated shelves. A set of something that looked suspiciously like the claws of a dragon was displayed upon one shelf. A bowl carved in ebony sat upon another. The whole room smelled odd. Alia couldn't decide if the musty scent was the aroma of so much slowly moldering vellum, or if it was emanating from the old man himself.

"Going to be difficult to get everything done around here, missing two servants," the Servant Master muttered to himself, scribbling something down upon some parchment. He licked the tip of his quill, a hint of ink marking his pink tongue. "Must you take them both?"

"Yes, I'm afraid I must," Alia replied, as polite as could be. Her eyes fixed on the black mark on his tongue a moment as he left it protruding past his thin lips. That ink must taste awful, didn't he notice? "But if that leaves the remaining servant core overstretched, might I suggest hiring two more servants?"

"You can't just hire two servants," the old man snapped, irritably waving his gryphon-feather quill about in the air. He dunked it into an ivory inkwell, and went back to scrabbling down marks in his ledger.

Alia resisted the urge to tell that perhaps if he bought himself less exotic stationary, he'd be able to afford more servants. "If you'd like, I can find two servants for you. Or better yet, I could help you hire a half dozen or so. That way you'd be assured of getting everything done on a daily basis, and you'd put even more good people to work."

That suggestion only made the old man scowl even more. He settled against the blue cushion that ran up the length of the high back of his mahogany chair. He shifted a bit in his brown robe. Alia wondered if he told himself that the simplistic and inexpensive of a brown woolen robe made up for spending so much money on everything else. Or maybe he was just liked to look as though he was a reasonable spender outside of his office.

"You can't just go around hiring those people," the old man finally said with an irritable sigh. "There's a screening process, interviews, security checks..."

Alia pursed her lips together, fighting to remain polite. The old man seemed to conveniently forget that Alia herself was one of "those people." She stared at him a moment, shifting against the uncomfortable seat. Though she might be squirming the same way he liked to see his employees wriggle, Alia certainly hoped she presented a more formal and confident air then the average nervous servant.

Alia was dressed in one of her most formal outfits, one she'd recently had put together. She wore a simple slate gray blouse with stripes of indigo and ebony that ran around the cuff of each sleeve. Across each shoulder, she bore the golden emblem of the Illandran Warden's Office. She paired the shirt with breeches that were a darker gray tone, but not quite black. Blue threading ran down the seams of the breeches, which cascaded over the top of her new pair of black leather boots. Several pouches along with her knife were secured to a dark leather belt carefully carved across its surface to resemble a serpent's scales. Casually as she could, she turned a bit to ensure that the Warden's Office emblem was clearly visible to the older man.

"With all due respect, Servant Master," Alia said, her voice smooth and smug as a cat's purr. "I can assure you from personal experience that must of those people are only looking for a better life. Better pay, a better place to live, and a chance to eat three full meals a day. Any one of them will work their fingers to the bone for you." She glared at him a moment, her voice hardening just a little. "As you are well aware, having already worked the current servants as hard as possible. And I should think that the Guard Corps would be insulted to hear that you have so little faith in their ability to deal with the clearly-immense security threat presented by a few hungry Aran'alians."

For a moment, the older servant master looked as though he were ready to spit a retort at her as swiftly as he no doubt spit out food that wasn't cooked to his exact specifications. Come to think of it, perhaps that robe was just to hide his growing paunch. Sitting here at his desk, belittling her people even as he bossed them around, growing fat on the fruits of their labor. Alia balled her hands up into her fists against her knees a moment, scrunching up her dark gray breeches. She took a breath, and let it out slowly. As she relaxed, so did the servant master.

Perhaps he'd just realized the woman addressing him was the same women who'd sent Lord Armadine to the infirmary just the other day. Whatever the case, he relented. He stuck his gryphon-feather quill into the ivory inkpot, and folded his liver-spotted hands across his belly. He appraised Alia for a moment, and then attempted to explain his side of things, rather then just spout the same bigoted nonsense he might spout to others.

"It's just that...well, protocol demands that every new servant be interviewed extensively." He licked his thin lips a moment. "We are, after all, letting them into the inner most sanctum in all of Illandra. We have to know who are employing. You yourself were interviewed when you first came here, where you not?"

"I was," Alia said with a little nod. "And I was later told that I, along with my friends, attained very high scores." She chuckled a little to herself at the very idea of being scored on such an interview. It was as if their attempts to better their lives were a game to the Illandrans. "But I certainly do not recall hearing any such nonsense about a security check."

The old man sighed, and leaned forward. He put his arms across his desk, stretched his surprisingly long neck out until Alia could nearly feel his hot and no doubt quite unpleasant breath washing across her body. For a moment he just stared at her, long enough for her to start growing a little uncomfortable. Soon, he swept a hand across his desk, pushing all his stately belongings to the side.

"You've made it, haven't you?"

"What do you mean?" Alia pulled back a little, confused.

"I mean..." He drummed his fingers against the spot he'd cleared atop his desk. "You've ascended. You've risen above the mire in which your people crawl and you've made something better of yourself."

"I'm not sure I like your implication." Alia leaned forward a little to match the older man, narrowing her brilliant green eyes.

Kesh relented a little bit, shaking his head, rogue strands of gray hair tossed about. "I meant no insult. My point is that I can trust you more then I feel I can trust the average unknown Aran'alian."

"And why can't you trust the average Aran'alian?" Alia hissed through increasingly grit teeth.

The Servant Master lowered his voice to a barely audible whisper. "Because, there are spies among them these days."

"Spies?" Alia blinked, settling back into her uncomfortable chair again. "What are you talking about?"

The old man glowered at her a moment. "You did not hear this from me, alright? I'm only telling you this because your actions are forcing me to hire more labor."

Alia didn't like the way the old man made it seem as though she was some kind of villain just for getting her friends better jobs. But she let it pass right now, because she wanted to know just what he was talking about. Alia watched as he pulled a key from a pouch around his belt, then used the key to unlock a small drawer on the other side of his desk. From the drawer he produced a leather bound folder wrapped with dark twine. He opened it, produced a single sheet of parchment, and lay it on the desk. Then he pushed it towards Alia.

"Have a glance at that, but a glance is all you're getting." Kesh kept his fingertips pressed to the parchment to prevent Alia from taking, as if he feared she'd snatch it and run away. "And remember..."

"Yes, yes," Alia muttered, irritably waving her hand. "I didn't hear it from you."

Alia turned her attention down to the parchment. From a quick glance, she saw that it was some kind of military intelligence report. Something about an investigation commissioned by the High Generals, and the Master Of Royal Security on behalf of Her Majesty, The Queen. Sounded to Alia like a fancy way of looking for trouble that they could later claim was the Queen's idea. It all seemed well over her head and totally unconnected to her or her people. Nonetheless, she began to scan the page anyway.

Soon, a few items here and there caught her attention.

...Indications that numbers of Aran'alian rebels have surged in the past decade.

...Concentrations of rebels both in former Aran'alia and surrounding lands.

...Isolated attacks continue to persist against Illandran interests, and in some areas have increased in frequency.

Alia had to fight to keep from smiling. Somehow, she felt an odd sort of pride knowing that at least a few of her people had never quite given up the fight against Illandra. Yet she was conflicted. Part of her felt as though she should not be happy about that. After all, Illandra was the only home she'd never known. She'd reached a measure of success here. Still, she could not deny that measure of pride. She was sure Valyrym would be happy to know that somewhere out there, someone was still fighting for his old home.

...Further indications that Aran'alian rebels continue to re-infiltrate refugee ranks throughout Illandra.

...Despite purging of spies and rebels in the years after annexation, recent surges in refugee numbers has made it difficult to ensure rebel cells are not among them.

...Extreme Caution is advised when dealing with unknown persons among the foreign and ranks until the matter is resolved.

Alia sighed and rubbed her forehead. In a way, she felt that all this was going to do was make life even harder for her people. She was about to pass the parchment back to the servant master when something else caught her eye.

...Reports of dragon sightings continue...

Just then, Kesh began to pull the parchment back. "Well, you get the idea."

Alia grabbed it tightly, hissing through her teeth. "One moment, please."

Kesh looked nervous. He did not release his grip upon it, but he gave Alia a moment to read a little more. Her green eyes swiftly flicked back and forth as she read through the paragraph that mentioned the dragon.

In a possibly related matter, reports of dragon sightings continue in lands known to be sympathetic to Aran'alian rebels, as well as lands outside Illandra's influence. The Aran'alian rebels were well known for their use of dragons in battle. Reports in some cases are credible. In one documented rebel attack, contact was lost with a convoy of soldiers passing through a recently annexed province. The soldiers were later found slain, the wagons and cargo burned although no hard evidence of dragon involvement was discovered.

Less credible reports include sightings of dragons in the sky above Illandra. Such sightings are considered not credible. Rarely a year goes without someone "seeing" a dragon during the Dragon Festival. This year as before, they are almost always reported at night. Someone, usually a drunkard or an Aran'alian, claims to have seen a dragon shaped silhouette circling far above the city, visible only against the stars. No real evidence of any dragon inside Illandra aside from The Prisoner has ever come forth, nor have any credible sightings. Only in light of potentially increased Aran'alian rebel numbers inside Illandra should these sightings be viewed with anything beyond the utmost skepticism.

With regards to The Messenger...

As the document veered away from the sightings of dragons, it clicked in Alia's head that this was not the sort of document she'd expect a servant master to be in possession of. She slowly lifted her eyes from the parchment, glaring at him in suspicion. "Where did you get this?"

Kesh yanked it away before she could read any further and neatly tucked it back into the folder. "I have my sources." He put the folder back in the drawer, and locked it up once more. "If you must know, I was cautioned against hiring any new servants without extensive background checks, and when I pushed for a reason, I was stonewalled. I pulled a few strings I've had my fingers wrapped around for a decade or so, and was eventually given that. Now, I've shared it with you in confidence, and I hope that confidence shall be returned."

"It shall," Alia said, rising swiftly to her feet.

Perhaps the old bastard wasn't as bad as she thought he was. Or perhaps he was just trying to cover his own ass. Whatever the case, her business with him was concluded. She reached to the serpent-scale patterned belt around her waist, and removed a pouch full of coins. She'd intended to use it in town, but changed her mind. She could dip into her recently increasing savings for that. She tossed the pouch onto the servant master's desk where it landed with a satisfying jingle.

"That's for your trouble," Alia snorted, turning on her heel to walk out of his office. She called back to him. "Hire yourself some new servants. And buy yourself a new robe."

Alia allowed herself a little smile as she left the servant master's office. She closed his heavy door behind her, it squeaked against the slightly bent frame. Her boot falls were padded against the soft, red carpeting that lined the hall leading to his office. As she made her way back towards her own room to fetch some more funds for her trip into town, she could not help thinking about what she had just read. In all likelihood, it was all unrelated. The dragons sighted were surely not those Valyrym once knew, and it was likely they were not even helping the rebels. And most likely, there were no real dragons sighted above Illandra.

And yet, despite what common sense told her, Alia's heart felt differently.

Alia's heart knew. It knew that somewhere out there, Death In The Night yet lived.

---

Alia watched the skies as she strode through the streets of Illandra. After what she'd read earlier that morning, she half expected to see a dragon flying about, just above the range of any arrows or ballista. It was a fanciful idea, but it made her smile nonetheless. And in truth, it did not seem so far fetched as it would have before Valyrym had told her about his life.

Alia allowed herself to enjoy the idea that a dragon was circling above. She imagined it for a little while, wings stretched out against the blue sky. Perhaps it was even one of Val's friends or family members come to visit him. Wouldn't that be lovely. And what a magnificent sight a dragon would make, drifting lazily in the skies above, bathed in sunlight. It was a sight Alia fervently hoped to see one day. She wanted to see Valyrym rise upon his own wings once more.

It was a shame that Illandra could not see dragons as more than monsters. It was lovely to imagine them wheeling about in the skies here, as they'd once down in Aran'alia. Wherever they had gone, wherever dragons remained free, Alia hoped that they had come to be friends with the humans there. Surely, there had to be a few other places in the many realms of the world where dragons could live without being hunted. Alia would love to get to see them flying.

Living in Illandra nearly her entire life, Alia had never seen anything even close. She envied those who had. Listening to Valyrym spin tales of his youth and the far away world in which he'd lived had awakened something Alia scarcely knew was there. Pride in her homeland, and a desire to see beyond the tall stone walls of the rich and the ramshackle slums of the poor that made up so much of Illandra. It was her home for all her life, and yet it suddenly seemed such a bland place. So boring. Worse, there was a coldness to it that she doubted its inhabitants even realized. Alia certainly hadn't realized it until her mind was filled with images of rolling green hills, and spires of jagged stone marked with ancient sigils, and colorful dragons spiraling in the skies.

There was nothing colorful spiraling in the skies above Illandra. And if there was, they'd probably shoot it down. Alia paused and leaned against the cool gray stone that comprised the wall of an old building. The bottom floor of the building held a clothier on one side, and a bakery on the other. The upper two stories housed homes. The ashen walls were pockmarked and weather worn, marked here and there with splotches of green moss. The windows all had bright red shuttered, and were open to let the breeze through on a warm day. A wooden walkway covered with a slanted roof painted red to match the shutters spanned the area from the top floor of the building to that of its neighbor. Alia sighed, and stared up at the sky. It was clear, and blue, but the only thing she could see circling above where a few buzzards. Seemed appropriate, somehow.

"The skies have never seemed so cold," she murmured to herself, smiling just a little. Amaleen was onto something. Valyrym had the heart of a poem somewhere inside him, even if he'd never admit it.

Alia spent a few long moments just watching the skies. How she longed to see a dragon circling above. Preferably it would be Valyrym, but right about now she'd settle for any dragon. Perhaps it would even swoop down and set fire to the castle. Wouldn't that be amusing. She laughed to herself a little bit, and shook her head. She hooked a stray tress of black hair behind her ear, her green eyes flicking to a single formless cloud drifting across the sky.

"You there! Girl!" An angry voice snapped Alia back to reality. A stern looking woman in a green and gold dress was leaning out of the clothier, glaring at Alia. Dark eyes flashed beneath lighter hair, her pale cheeks were ruddy with irritation. Or perhaps drink. "What do you think you're doing, leaning against my wall like that."

"I'm watching the skies," Alia said, gesturing towards the single cloud. "Imagining dragons."

"You're what?" The woman blinked, narrowing her eyes. "Are you daft? Or do you people just never grow up? Stop thinking of childish things and get yourself a job. And move away from my wall. I'll not have some ill-bred foreigner scaring away my fine customers."

For a moment, anger flared inside Alia. It flashed in her green eyes brightly enough to cause the woman watching her to duck back inside her doorway a little. Then Alia took a deep breath, calmed herself, and thought of a much more amusing way to handle the situation. Alia calmly slipped away from the wall, and approached the woman, smiling.

The woman backed up further, moving into her shop. "If you try and strike me I shall call for the guards and have you hauled away!"

That only made Alia laugh. "My dear woman, I am the guard." Alia turned herself a little, and tapped one of her Warden's Emblems. "You see, my people and I, as you call us, have come to outrank you. Now..." Alia made a show of turning herself about, examining the woman's wares. "I should like to buy some clothes. You shall be helpful and polite, and you shall accept my coin for your clothing, or..." Alia's grin got even wider. "I shall have you hauled away."

Alia spent the next hour or so being as obnoxious a customer as possible, while frequently reminding the woman that her polite assistance was required. She asked all manner of inane questions, and when the woman didn't have an answer Alia required her to look into the matter. Oh, you don't know if this blouse is made with silk from the Thelnon region? Well, by all means, consult your log books, surely you must know. Would these breeches stand up to an extended bout of dragon riding? Can you suggest an outfit suitable for belittling ignorant racists?

In the end, Alia purchased several garments, some for herself and some for her friends. She had to guess at Kaylen and Thomas' sizes, but she'd done so before with success. She was sure they'd like them either way, and if they didn't the story of their purchase would more then make up for it.

By the time she was done shopping, she was getting a little bit hungry. As she still had business to conduct in the town, Alia decided to return to the castle to put her new clothes away, and have lunch with Valyrym. On the way back she stopped at a small but popular stall hawking all manner of meat pies. She bought out the vendor's remaining stock, carefully packed them all in a burlap sack he had laying around, and returned home. Soon she was dining with her favorite dragon.

"I still don't know why you humans put so much effort into stuffing something delicious into something so dry and crusty," Valyrym muttered as he devoured his third mutton pie, a few flaky pastry crumbs clinging to the end of his gray marked muzzle.

"Oh go stuff yourself," Alia giggled. "You love those and you know it."

"They are quiet delicious," the dragon said, grinning.

While they ate Enric made his way down the stairs and approached them. Alia was pleasantly surprised to see he was not as heavily armored as usual. The guard wore heavy chain mail over a layer of padding atop his gray and blue uniform, with padded breeches wrapped in layers of studded leather. There was no sign of the thicker metal plating he'd worn on certain previous visits. Enric also hadn't bothered to wear his helmet, his short cropped red hair stuck up here and there at a few odd angles above his handsome if roughly worn face. And rather then an assortment of weapons he bore only a single sword strapped at his hip in a leather scabbard with Illandra's five towered keep emblazoned upon it.

"Delivery for you, Ma'am." Enric said, offering a little bow.

Alia glanced up at him, grinning as she wiped crumbs from her mouth. "What sort of delivery?"

Enric idly touched his crooked nose. "A barrel of rum."

"Oh, wonderful!" Alia jumped to her feet, grinning. "Can you fetch it?"

Enric blinked, and turned to gaze back at the long and winding stairwell he'd just descended. "Not without assistance."

"Oh...right." Alia pursed her lips. She hadn't considered that particular aspect of delivering the dragon a barrel of rum. "Do you suppose you and I could handle it together?"

"We could certainly give it a shot," Enric said with a shrug.

"You had better be careful," Valyrym growled, rising to his feet to glare at Enric.

Alia smiled a little at the dragon's protective nature. "Thank you Valyrym, but I'm sure he'll quite careful."

"I am speaking to both of you." The dragon snorted. "If you spill my rum I shall be quite cross."

Alia smile faded, and she turned to glare at him. "What about me? What if I'm crushed beneath a barrel of rum?"

"Then I shall have to find a replacement girl," Valyrym said, waving a paw in the air. "Besides, from the way I hear you tell it, you Aran'alian girls are ten to a copper in this city. Why, I'm stuck in this dungeon and I've already met two of you."

Alia laughed, shaking her head. "You're an ass, Valyrym."

"Yes, I am," the dragon said, smirking. He glanced at Enric a moment, narrowing his golden eyes. "Lost your helmet, have you?"

Enric ran a hand back over his reddish hair, ruffling it up further. "I hate wearing that thing. Besides, I took a look at those tail spines of yours."

"What about them?" Valyrym glanced back at his own tail, lashing it so that the slightly curved, dark spines clattered against the stone floor.

Enric grinned, resting a hand on the leather wrapped hilt of his sword. "If I had to guess, I'd say those things would punch right through my helmet if you really got it in your head to do me in."

"You would guess correctly," the dragon said, chuckling to himself. He turned around and made a show of lashing his tail in the air, calling back to them as he walked off to get a drink of water. "They have punched through far thicker armor then I have ever seen you wear. Now fetch my damn rum before I've a mind to demonstrate them."

Enric turned back towards the stairs, and as Alia joined him for the ascent, Enric remarked, "I'm starting to like that old bastard."

The barrel of rum turned out to be a bit heavier then Alia expected, but not so heavy that the two of them couldn't carry it about. After all she imagined that burly bartenders had to be able to carry the things around themselves. The real trouble was the length of the staircase and the way it twisted and turned as it cut ever deeper into the earth. Now and then the two of them had to carefully set the barrel down on a stair, reposition themselves, and then hoist it aloft once more. Once they reached the bottom of the stairs, Alia told Enric they'd store the barrel in the old office near the double doors carved with the image of the dragon in chains.

"If I leave this barrel with Valyrym while I'm out, I'm liable to return home to find him passed out and the barrel emptied," Alia explained. "It was quite expensive so I'd like him to be able to enjoy it on at least a few different occasions, rather then just giving himself liver failure all at once."

When the barrel was safely stowed away in the still messy office, Alia went back to tell Valyrym she'd bring it for him later. Though he seemed disappointed he didn't get to follow up his lunch with half a barrel of rum, he also did not argue Alia's contention that he'd drink the whole damn thing if she wasn't around to prevent it. She stroked the dragon's muzzle a little bit, and told him she'd return that evening. Then she smirked, and told the dragon that Enric would keep him company this afternoon. That was news to Enric, as well.

"Ah, well...hmmm," Enric stuttered a little, before he finally shrugged, grinning sheepishly at the dragon. "You wanna play cards, or something?"

Alia left Valyrym looking both grumpy and befuddled as she made her way out of the dungeon. She returned to her room, and fetched the lovely pack she'd brought shortly after meeting the dragon. The sight of it made her smile. It was a simple but sturdy pack with plenty of room, crafted mostly of black leather with edging and pockets done up in shades of gray. The moment she saw it, it reminded her of Valyrym and she'd cherished the pack ever since. Strapping it onto her back she returned to town.

Once back on the streets of Illandra, Alia set her mind to business. Important business, in fact. The business of buying a whole host of stuffed dragons with which to adorn Val's prison and surprise Kaylen. As far as Alia was concerned, it was about time for Val Junior to have a clan of his own. As the summer Dragon Festival was drawing closer and closer, there were plenty of options to choose from. Just about every street vendor and shop had at least one or two dragon related items for sale, though far too many of them were focused on said dragons captivity or destruction for Alia's liking.

With a little work, Alia began to assemble quite the cotton-stuffed menagerie. She first found a black one that was a little smaller then Val Junior, and lacked the forward-curled ram horns. It even had little golden spots on it here and there. She decided to call that one Little Nary. There were plenty of stuffed green dragons, but Alia decided she wanted Kor Junior to be just right. She considered purchasing one that was discounted because it was missing one of its little stuffed wings, but decided that would hit too closely to home. The idea was to make Val feel better and remind him of good times, not bad ones. Finally, she found a toy that resembled Val Junior in almost everyway, aside from the fact that it was a dark forest green color rather then black. Seemed to make the perfect Kor Junior to Alia.

Alia continued her search. Soon, she selected an extra large red dragon. Though Val hadn't mentioned anything about red dragons, they seemed a popular color. She was going to get one for Kaylen. She also picked up a second green dragon and another black for dragon for Kaylen as well, each a different size. As she could hardly carry them all in her arms, she began to stuff them down inside her pack.

"Sorry about the cramped quarters," she giggled as she pushed the latest toy down into the others. "Try not to squish each other too badly."

Ignoring the funny look she got from the Vendor, she ventured on. It took a little work to seek out a dragon that resembled Voskalar, but eventually she found a small, brownish color stuffed toy. The thing's large eyes looked quite cross, which made Alia laugh. It made the little toy look befuddled and confused, which she supposed fit young Vos quite well. Somewhat to her annoyance, Alia found it difficult to find a blue dragon. She could have sworn she'd seen some before, perhaps they were a popular color. Alia spent a while searching, but the only blue toys she could find at first were simply too small.

Finally, she spotted a wagon she'd never seen before, set up selling wares down a side street. Alia knew the street well enough, as it lead into the district in which she'd grown up. A rather run down area lived in mostly by Aran'alian refugees. She hadn't been down that road in a while, and in truth had no intentions of heading down it today until she spotted the wagon. It looked like the sort of wagon traveling merchants might live in, totally enclosed with glass paned windows and everything. The walls were very colorful, painted with images of brilliant blue skies, rolling green hills and gray spires of stone on one side, and stylized, slashing silver rain on another side.

Alia's heart leapt. She knew at once that wagon was from Aran'alia. Or, at least, the land that used to be Aran'alia. She quickly walked towards it. The windows were open upon one side of the colorful wagon and from the looks of things they were vending food and trinkets from the old lands. Alia had seen such wagons before, it wasn't unheard of for merchants from home to venture to Aran'alia to try their luck. They often did not stay long as the Illandrans were not often interested in their wares and the average Aran'alian often couldn't afford them.

Alia had never paid such wagons heed before, but now she found herself drawn to it. A couple of dark haired boys in ragged clothes were looking at the menu longingly, though it seemed none of them had the coin to afford much more then a biscuit or so. Though soon enough, the woman inside the wagon passed out a few cookies free of charge, happy to give them to the children. They ran off laughing and stuffing their faces.

Alia couldn't help smiling both at the woman's generosity, and at the reminder of home. As she approached, she smiled and waved to the woman inside. The vendor was an older woman, though probably not yet a grandmother. Dark hair framed her bronzed face in lightly curly locks. She reminded Alia immediately of Amaleen, though Alia imagined with all the Illandrans present in her home land, there were probably a lot of half Aran'alian children running around. The woman wore a purple apron over a golden blouse, and happily waved back to Alia.

"Hello, my dear!" The woman's voice held a hint of a musical accent that Alia hadn't heard in some time. It reminded her of her own mother. So many of the Aran'alias she knew here in Illandra had never known the accents and languages of home. "What can I do for you?"

"Oh, I haven't decided yet," Alia said with a laugh. "I'm just surprised to see someone from home out here. It's been a while."

"Oh, we stop by now and then." The woman laughed a little, leaning an elbow on her counter to peer out the window at Alia. "Quite a few of us who make the rounds to all the big cities and things. I suppose you could say it's in our blood, we just don't like staying in one place too long."

The woman was probably right. Since Alia had become a servant, she hadn't once come back to her old neighborhood. She'd simply been far too busy. Strange as it seemed, now that she was in charge of caring for Valyrym she found herself with more free time to spend in the town then she ever had a servant. Perhaps it was about time she went and visited her old home.

"Have you ever been?"

Alia tilted her head. "Hmm? Been where?"

"Home, my dear," the woman said with a laugh. "Aran'alia."

Alia shook her head. "No. But it's not there anymore, anyway."

"Oh, but it is," the woman said, smiling. "At least to us." She made a dismissive gesture towards the city beyond Alia. "They can call it whatever they want, but it will always be Aran'alia to us."

"I've heard things are..." Alia trailed off a moment, glancing down. "Quite hard there."

"And they're not quite hard here?" The woman said with a chuckle. "You seem to be the first person from home I've seen here all day with a few coins to her name."

"Point taken," Alia said, chuckling. "I can't imagine you make much profit here, though."

"We scrape by," the woman said. As they spoke she picked up a purplish ribbon and carefully tied it around her dark hair, behind her head. "We make most our money in other lands and cities, but there's so many of us here, we can't come by this area without stopping for a few weeks. So, see anything you like?"

Alia scanned the menu board for a while. Plenty of things she'd never heard of, truth be told. Lots of pastries and cakes, and some fish dishes she knew little Valar would have loved. The thought made her smile. Then, at the bottom of the menu, she saw something that damn near stopped her heart.

"Silver water," Alia breathed out loud, her throat going dry a moment. Could it be?

"Oh, that," the woman said, laughing and shaking her head. "We like to tell the Illandrans that its full of mystical things and brimming with health benefits." She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "But really, it's just the rain. You see, back home the rain is..."

"Silver," Alia said softly. "I know."

"Do you," the woman pulled her head back, and gave Alia an odd look. "I thought you said you'd never been home?"

"I've heard the stories," Alia said, smiling. "I was born here, but my mother was born in Aran'alia. She used to talk about the silver rain all the time."

It was a lie, of course, but it suited the moment. Alia wasn't sure just how much she wanted to tell this woman. In reality, her mother had never spoke a word of the silver rain itself, or where she'd gotten her last name from. Alia thought it was probably a painful reminder for her of all the things she'd left behind. Perhaps she never really wanted Alia to know just how wonderful their home had been. No since in leaving the girl longing for something she'd never have.

But thanks to Valyrym, Alia knew all about it. And long for it she did.

"Oh, well isn't that lovely," the woman smiled. "Here, let me get you a glass."

The woman vanished for a moment, and left Alia fumbling for her coin purse. The menu board listed the silver water as costing two pieces of gold, but Alia got the distinct impression that was the "Illandran" price. And that if any Aran'alian asked for it, they'd either get it for a copper or two, or completely free. Nonetheless, when the woman returned Alia set two gold upon the counter.

"Oh, you don't need to pay, my dear," the woman said, offering Alia a glass.

"I insist," Alia said, pushing the coins across to her.

Alia took the glass, and held it up to the sun. The liquid that filled it to the brim shone brilliantly silver in the sunlight. "Gods," Alia murmured to herself. "It really is silver."

"Yes, it is," the woman laughed. "You should see the rains! They're beautiful." Then she added a cautionary tone to her voice, as if trying to ward off disappointment. "It is just water, though, so don't expect it to taste like honey or anything."

Alia smelled the water. Even kept in a barrel, it still smelled like fresh rain. She brought the cup to her lips, and drank deeply. The woman was wrong. At least to Alia, the water tasted like honey and sweet melon. It tasted like home and it sent shivers down Alia's spine. Alia drank the whole cup down, and put the glass back on the counter along with two more coins.

"Another, please."

The woman laughed in a lovely, lilting way. "Thirsty girl, hmm? Well I won't refuse good taste, nor good coin." The woman vanished again, and soon returned with the glass filled once more with silver rainwater. "Here you are!"

Alia took the glass, and this time sipped it. She smiled to herself. It seemed odd to feel so nostalgic about something she'd never truly known, and yet she found herself missing the things from home she'd never even known. When she asked Valyrym to tell her his story, she had no idea it was going to be the story of her own people's downfall as well. She gave a little sigh, sipping her water again.

"Have you much of this?" Alia called out.

"A few barrels worth, yes," the woman replied. She began dusting up inside the wagon.

"Good, I'd like to bring my friends by in the future."

"We'll be here a few weeks at least, maybe a month or two." The woman laughed inside the wagon. She soon leaned out the window to dump a dustbin out on the street. "When never really know how long we'll stay one place or another."

Alia nodded to herself. As she savored her water, she walked around the wagon, looking at the beautiful murals painted across it. Even the exotic, colorful nature of the wagon reminded her of a home she'd never really known. From the way Valyrym told it, it sounded as though the villages in Aran'alia had been very colorful in ways a string of banners strung over stone walls could never match. There were not many places around here that were painted in such colorful murals, aside from the shop of the old tailor she liked.

Alia walked around the backside, admiring the artwork depicting the silver rain. At the front end of the wagon, there was a bright blue sky above rolling green hills. The wagon gradually darkened to a gray tone towards the back to give the feeling of clouds rolling in. Beneath the clouds, fat, shiny silver droplets the size of her fist were painted in curtain like waves rolling across the side of the wagon. Something blue caught her eye in one of the windows.

There, sitting on the window ledge like a badge of honor, was a stuffed blue dragon. Alia chuckled. It figured she looked all day for one, and after she'd given up she finally happened to spot one. It was a good deal larger then the other ones she had, as well, and would have made the largest dragon in Val's newly started collection. Alia craned her neck and stood up on her tip toes to peer through the leaded panes of glass at the stuffed dragon beyond. It was set up as though sitting on it's haunches, looking at the outside world.

It was actually a very well made stuffed dragon. Higher quality even then the ones she'd already purchased. It's soft, fuzzy looking exterior was comprised of several shades of blue. It was a dark, nearly midnight blue across it's black and it's thin, leathery-looking wings, fading to a very pale blue across it's belly. It had little gray horns sprouting from it's head, and a rather short looking snout. The coloration was almost perfect. Almost uncannily so. Alia felt a shiver run down her spine that the warm sun did nothing to abate.

It could have been Kylaryn.

Alia walked back around the place, calling out to the woman. When she poked her head back out, Alia gestured around the side of the wagon. "How much do you want for that stuffed dragon on the other side?"

"Hmm?" The woman glanced back into the wagon, towards the back. "Oh, that old thing? That's not for sale. That's an antique!"

I bet it is, Alia thought. "Nonetheless, if you're willing to part with it, I'm willing to part with the necessary coin."

"Oh...well..." The woman seemed hesitant, and Alia suddenly couldn't read her. She felt as though the woman had thrown up an inner wall as impenetrable as the golden shielding Valyrym often positioned just behind his eyes. "It does hold a special meaning..."

Death in the night. Alia almost said it out loud, but she caught herself just in time. Her imagination was running away with her again. Surely this woman was not an Aran'alian spy, and not actually affiliated with anyone who knew the dragon that toy seemed to be based upon. Then again, anything was possible. If Alia blurted out the wrong thing, the woman might close up shop and never return. Hell, if she was some kind of rebel spy, she might think Alia was working for Illandra. She was wearing their emblem, after all.

Trying not to stammer or appear nervous, Alia simply smiled and said, "From your family or something? I'd not want to divest you of a precious heirloom or sentimental treasure. It's just that I've got a friend who collects all manner of stuffed dragons."

"Do you." The woman's voice hovered between suspicious, and curious.

"Oh, yes, I do!" Alia smiled as innocently as she could. She pulled her back from her shoulders, and opened it up to show the woman the pile of stuffed dragons she had crammed inside already. "I'm out buying him new ones while they're available, you see. He'd ever so much love to have a blue one, and I've been looking all over for one to not avail. All the good ones seem to be bought up already. And I can tell just by looking at it that yours is of a far superior, quality anyway."

The woman chuckled a little bit, vanishing back inside the wagon. Alia shouldered her pack again. The woman soon returned bearing the stuffed toy, but she did not yet hold it out to Alia. "As I said, it's an antique. It's been passed around my family, but we've all worked to take very good care of it. It's not totally unique or anything, but there aren't that many of them, either." She worked her fingers around one of the wings, smiling. "The wings are real leather, you see, dyed a lovely shade of blue."

Alia stared at it a moment longer, her heart hammering her chest. If it hammered any harder she was afraid the woman would spot the ripples in her glass of silver water. It was her. It had to be her. Even if it was just some antique stuffed toy, made to look like one of the dragons who protected her people so long ago, it was still an incredible find. She could scarcely imagine the look on Valyrym's face when she presented him a literal stuffed Kylaryn.

The thought made him grin like a drunken fool staring at a girl he liked. Or perhaps, like Valyrym thinking about rum. "Yes, I see the craftsmanship is stunning. I'm willing to pay quite a hefty sum, actually. You see my friend would...well...I assure you, my friend would relish that particular toy more then any other."

The woman stared at Alia a moment, and then looked down at the large stuffed blue dragon in her arms. Alia was glad she'd brought plenty of money with her. She still had a coin pouch left that was brimming with coins. If she kept spending like this she was going to be broken again, but right now it scarcely mattered. She had to have that dragon. While the woman seemed to be mulling it over, Alia took the purse from her belt, and dropped it on the counter in such a way as to ensure it clinked quite loudly.

The woman's eyes flicked to the pouch, and she sighed. Finally, she handed the stuffed toy over the counter towards Alia. "Oh, well...alright."

Alia's smile could have outshone the sun for a moment as she reached for the toy she knew Valyrym would cherish above all others. Her smile faded when the woman unexpectedly snatched up her wrist, holding her tightly. Her fingers dug into Alia's flesh, and the woman's gaze dug into her eyes. "It's him, isn't it!"

"Let me go," Alia hissed, pulling her hand back. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"It's him!" The woman insisted. "Your friend. It's him!" The woman released her Alia from her grasp, and Alia swiftly took a few steps back, clutching the stuffed toy to her breast in trembling hands. Her wrist ached and she glared at the woman a moment. She seemed nearly as much a puzzle as the female dragon whom the toy she held represented. Kind one moment, fearsome the next, alternatively welcoming and suspicious. And she certainly seemed to know who Valyrym was. Alia honestly didn't know if that was a good thing, or a very bad thing.

Alia rubbed her wrist as she glared at the moment. She half expected the shopkeeper to jump out of her wagon and snatch Alia by the shoulders to try and shake some answers out of her. In truth, Alia already felt a little shaken. Reading reports and rumors was one thing, coming face to face with a potential spy, let alone one who might have vastly differing ideals and goals then Alia, was something else entirely.

The woman soon wavered a little under Alia's gaze, glancing down at her hands. "I'm sorry if I hurt you," she said softly. Alia couldn't be sure if the woman was genuinely remorseful, or just putting on a front because she was as unsure of Alia's motives as Alia was of hers. "I just...well...I didn't expect to meet someone like you, that's all. And now I'm wondering who you are."

"I could ask you the same question," Alia said tucking the large stuffed blue dragon under one arm.

"A fair enough assumption, I suppose." The woman leaned forward, glancing up and down the street. "It's just...well...you see, it's difficult to know which side a person is on."

"I'm on no one's side," Alia said sharply. "Whatever you may be involved with, I want no part of it. But if you're who I think you are..." Alia trailed off, waiting for the woman to fill in the blanks. When she did not, Alia pressed on herself. "I assure you that I mean you no harm at all. But the only side I'm on is that of my friends."

The woman gave a single nod. "Fair enough, my dear. Here." She picked up the coin purse, and tossed it back to Alia. Alia deftly snatched it out of the air with her free hand. "Take your coins. Keep the dragon. May it bring him comfort."

"If anyone wanted to bring him comfort, they wouldn't have left him here to rot." Alia turned and began to walk away, and before the woman could reply to that. "Thank you for your time. If I've a chance I shall bring my friends by for more of that water!"

The woman called something else out to her as Alia walked back towards the main street, but Alia scarcely heard it. Her own heartbeat drowned out almost every other sound around her. A steady thumping rush filled her ears and thudded painfully inside her head. Her face felt hot, her skin flushed and red. Perspiration beaded upon her forehead. Her stomach twisted itself into pained knots like an agonized serpent.

As soon as she was back on the main street, the woman found a shady bench beneath a tall elm tree, and flopped down upon it. She wiped her forehead, and gave a long, weary sigh. Alia set the large stuffed dragon on the bench next to her, and pressed her face into her palms. Her whole body was shaking. For long moments she sought to calm herself, breathing deeply. Only when her heartbeat had eased a little and her stomach had unknotted itself did she lift her reddened face away from her clammy palms.

Alia took a deep breath, and held it as long as she could. Finally she let it out with a long, wavering sigh. She warred with herself for a little while. Was that really a spy? Or was she just being paranoid? And if there truly were Aran'alian spies in town, what did they seek to accomplish? Alia reached out and hoisted up the stuffed toy, and plopped it on her lap. "You know, don't you Little Ky. But I don't suppose you're going to tell me." Alia smiled at the toy as if expecting an answer. "No? I thought not. Then I shall have to ask Valyrym and see what he knows."

Alia hugged the toy against herself, cuddling it for a little while. She took some measure of simple comfort in it's warm softness, smiling to herself. When she finally forced herself to rise to her feet, she was still clutching the stuffed blue dragon to herself like a child clinging to her favorite doll. As she made her way down the street, Alia wondered if Death In The Night was not only still alive, but skulking about in Illandra itself.

The thought sent tremors through Alia. If Death In The Night was here in Illandra, she doubted they were here to rescue Valyrym.

Just what the hell had she gotten herself into?

---

Chapter Five

By the time she'd nearly reached the castle, Alia remembered she'd promised to bring the Urd'thin more food. Come to think of it, she'd promised to do so the day before and completely forgot. Not that she could blame herself. Valyrym's tale lasted well into the morning, and by the evening she and Kylaryn would riding around on his back like a couple of giddy children with a beloved pet.

It had warmed her heart to see Valyrym so happy for a little while. Alia wished to put some measure of happiness in his heart every day now.

So long as she was already in this part of town, she figured she may as well go see if Vatch and his comrades were around. With Little Ky tucked under her arm, Alia ventured away from the main road and down a side street. She'd been to that little bakery enough times now to know the best route to take to avoid the alleys pocked with puddles of unknown origin. Alia followed a side street that wove it's way back and forth like a lazy river, cutting and twisting between old houses who's wooden walls and sagging roofs looked one good rain storm away from complete collapse. Alia knew plenty about houses like that, she'd lived in such a place for a while growing up.

As the first scents of freshly baked bread and pastries filled with candied fruits filled the air, Alia found herself smiling. And not just because the delightful aromas were overpowering the smells of garbage and worse things littering the street, either. Rather because she found herself looking forward to seeing that odd little creature again. Despite the unpleasant meeting they had. Alia couldn't help but find herself amused by the Urd'thin's antics. Maybe she'd even the little bastard his own cake this time. Then he couldn't complain about her fat dragon friend getting all the treats.

As soon as Alia rounded the last corner behind the bakery she saw something was wrong. About a half dozen guards with helmets in gray and blue were standing around in the street out in front of the bakery. A few more men stood behind it. The rattle of heavy chain mail and the clatter of iron plate as thick in the air as the guards slowly combed the area. One of them paused to peer in the same dumpster that Vatch and his friends had been digging through when Alia first encountered them. Two of them struck off down an alleyway, their hands on the hilts of the swords. Another man held a crossbow in his hands with an bolt nocked. Two guards were talking with each other in hushed voices, one of them gesturing to a nearby corner. Alia flicked her eyes in that direction. Backed into a corner between two moldering, moss covered walls was Vatch.

"Damn it, Vatch," Alia hissed under her breath. "What've you done this time?"

Whatever he'd done, the Urd'thin looked as though he couldn't quite decide between being terrified or furious. His furred hands were balled up into fists at his sides, and his dark eyes with barely a hint of a visible pupil were narrowed as he glared at the nearest guard. Alia half expected him to march right up to the guard and punch him in the belly. Or, at least kick him in the shins given that punching armor wouldn't be especially effective. But every time that guard glared back at Vatch or moved towards him, the little dog-like creature gave a yap and backed away again.

As the guards seemed disinclined to pay any attention to Alia, she took a moment to appraise the situation. Vatch was wearing unusually clean clothes. She couldn't recall ever actually seeing one of the furred bipeds in clean clothes before. He wore a light blue shirt that was clearly too big for him. It hung down almost to his knees, and the sleeves looked as though they'd been rolled up a great deal just to reach his hands, all bunched up around his wrists. Now and then he reached up to scratch nervous at the dirty brown fur around his oversized ears and undersized horns. He'd probably stolen the damn shirt.

Laid on the ground nearby were the two grimy knives that Vatch had previously tried to rob her with. There was also a threadbare backpack with it's contents upended on the dirty, broken cobblestones of the back street. Some old biscuits, some moldy bread, a meat pie half wrapped in parchment, a few copper coins, and what looked like an old ornamental hand mirror all lay nearby. Probably the contents of his pack, now evidence of his crime.

Alia wondered for a moment if he'd hurt anyone. She pursed her lips, and thought about walking off and leaving him to his fate. Yet that didn't seem right. At least not without knowing the circumstances. Alia took a deep breath, and let it out in a long sigh. Boldness and following her heart had gotten her this far. No sense in walking another path now. Alia walked over to the nearest guard, grasped his arm to get his attention, and tilted her head towards her Warden patch to make sure he didn't think she was just some Aran'alian girl out for a walk.

Granted, not many Warden officers carried a stuffed blue dragon under one arm, let alone wore a whole backpack filled with their cottony cousins. But Alia wasn't going to give the guard a chance to wonder about that, let alone question. Alia held herself up straight, the toy tucked beneath her arm like an angry accountant might carry a clipboard.

"Guard," Alia said sharply, gesturing to the Urd'thin. "What's going on?"

The guard hesitated for a moment, furrowing his brown beneath his gray and blue toned helmet. He wasn't used to being addressed so matter-of-factly by Aran'alians, let alone Aran'alians carrying a load of stuffed animals. But he knew he she was, and he knew she had rank. Maybe she'd just really come to like dragons? He cleared his throat with a little cough, straightening himself up.

"Ma'am," he said, inclining his head. "We received reports of armed robberies in this area involving Urd'thin. Upon arriving we observed this little rat-faced bastard loitering around along with a few of his filthy mongrel friends. Most of them ran off before we could get any back up, but this one stuck around long enough for us to get ahold of him."

Interesting. That was just what Vatch had done the first time Alia met him. Granted, he'd also tried to rob her, but more and more it sounded like he was equally interested in giving his friends a chance to escape. After all, when Alia promised to buy him food, he'd also bartered a deal to feed his friends as well, and carried the food to them himself when they proved too afraid to get near Alia. Now it seemed Vatch had given himself up to give those same friends a chance to flee.

"So that Urd'thin over there was robbing people?" Not exactly the deal Alia made with him.

"He was here when we arrived, yes."

Ah. Alia knew what that meant. Whether Vatch was robbing people or not, all the Urd'thin related crimes in this area were about to pinned on him. Granted, it was possible many of them really were his fault. She couldn't really blame the guards for assuming the worst. After all, the little bastard had pulled a knife on her, too. But at the same time, Alia wasn't sure he'd ever actually hurt anyone before. And she herself knew how easily theft could tempt someone with a hungry belly. If she let them take him away, they'd probably put him to death.

"I think you are mistaken, Guard," Alia said before she could think better of it. "I recognize this Urd'thin. He was here because he was supposed to be picking me something up from this bakery. Probably having a chat with some old comrades. I suggest you look elsewhere for your robber, because this little bastard here is my servant." While the guard struggled to process that, Alia made a show of giving a very long, frustrated sigh. "And quite an ungrateful servant, at that! I tell you, you give these things a roof and a bit of food and you scarcely even hear a thanks!"

Alia strode across the small plaza, straight towards Vatch. She marched with the fiery anger of an arrogant noble furious that their servant wasn't doing exactly as they were told every moment of every day. It was an attitude Alia would never want to adopt herself, yet it was one she was quite familiar with. Feigning it proved easier then she cared to admit. For all these guards would know, she'd already taken too her new position of power and was now bossing around servants of her own. Urd'thin servants, in this case.

Vatch caught sight of Alia approaching him, and his dark eyes lit up as he spotted his potential savior. "Alia!" He cried out. "You must listen! I not do what they say!"

Alia struck him sharply across the muzzle with an open palm as soon as she reached him, hard enough to jerk his head to the side. Vatch yelped in pain, stumbling back and cupping his muzzle with his paws. His large ears pinned back against his head, muzzle scrunching up in pain as his nose stung madly. Alia didn't give him a moment's break, either. She reached right out and snatched him by the collar of his oversized blue shirt, shaking him roughly.

"I've been looking everywhere for you!" She scowled at him, taking the same tone a mother would take with an ungrateful child. Or Servant Master Kesh might take with a servant asking for just a copper more in payment. "And here I finally find you, causing these decent men trouble? I've half a mind to dump you right back on the filthy streets and see how you like that! And look at your fur, why, it was only a week ago I allowed you that lovely bath, and now you look as though you've been rolling around in the mud."

The nearest guards were now staring in bewilderment, just as Alia had hoped. She was grateful none of them could see inside her body to catch a glimpse of her fiercely pounding heart. It seemed her pulse could scarcely take a moment to slow its pace today. It was just as well, Alia found her best performances seemed to come when she was pulsing with adrenaline. She snatched one of Vatch's hands away from his snout, then squeezed it as she turned and walked away. Vatch was forced to follow to avoid having his arm wrenched from its socket.

"I'm sorry for any trouble my servant has caused you," Alia said as she walked past a group of guards. Then she paused in full view of everyone, and turned back towards him. "Here! You carry this, you filthy thing." She shoved Little Ky into his arms, glowering. "And don't you dare get your stink all over it, or I shall have you furry little bottom paddled raw for the second time!"

That brought a crude laugh from several of the soldiers, and Alia strode forward with her eyes forward and her shoulders square, ensuring her demeanor said as much about her as the emblems on her clothing. One of the guards moved to get in her way, and when Alia went to side step him, he grabbed her arm.

"Listen, Lady..."

Alia ever so slowly turned her head and leveled her gaze at him. If her green eyes were any sharper they'd have cut the man's head clean off. She made a very deliberate show of looking him up and down. He wore chain mail over a padded jerkin, but was not wearing any armor across his legs, or below the waist at all. Alia knew the guards well enough now to know that they were assigned armor to cover all their vulnerable areas, though unless they expected combat some of the guards were a little too lazy to bother putting it all on.

"Take your hand off my arm immediately, Guard." Alia grit her jaw. "And never refer to me as "Lady" again, unless you wish me to demonstrate why you should never go on duty without all your armor." She lifted her knee slightly, quirking a brow at the same time.

The guard released her arm, and took a step back, his face flushing behind his helmet as his fellows laughed at him. "Yes, Ma'am. Sorry Ma'am."

"That's better," Alia muttered. She glanced around at the other guards, most of whom were staring at her now. Alia waved a hand at the myriad side streets and alleyways connected to the plaza where the bakery stood. "Well? Those muggers aren't going to catch themselves. Perhaps if you spread out to conduct an actual search instead of standing gossiping like a bunch of old maids over their knitting, you might actually find the right Urd'thin this time. Now get to work before I pass it up the chain that you're all just lazing about while armed robbers prowl the streets!"

The men were soon scrambling to divide themselves up into smaller search groups, some of them calling out orders at each other. Alia took advantage of their distraction to snatch Vatch by one of his large ears and lead him yelping down the street. As soon as she felt she was far enough away from the guards to be safe, she released his ear, and whirled around on him.

"Vatch," she whispered, her heart still pounding. "Are you alright?"

Vatch tilted his head back to peer up at her. His eyes were so wide they resembled immense, brown-black marbles, and Alia thought if they went any wider they were going to crack his skull. He rubbed his sore ear with a hand, clutching the stuffed dragon tightly in his other arm. He swallowed so hard Alia could hear it, and took a step back from her. Alia took a deep breath and held it, her breasts pressed against the gray fabric of her blouse for long moments. Then she let it out slowly, and held her hands out. Vatch passed the stuffed blue dragon back to her, and Alia tucked it back under her arm.

"I'm very sorry I hit you, Vatch," Alia said gently. "And I didn't mean what I said. Is your nose alright?"

"...Is sore," Vatch said, cautiously. "You...say to to save me?"

Alia chuckled a little bit. "Yes, Vatch. I said those things so they'd think you were my servant. I only had a moment to think of a way to get you out there, and that was all I could come up with." Alia giggled to herself. "Frankly I'm surprised I pulled that off at all, after the day I've been having."

Vatch rubbed his nose a moment, grinning just a little. "You pretty good play big, mean bitch."

Alia blinked, not sure she should take that as a compliment. "Just consider yourself lucky."

"What you do out here, anyway?" Vatch tilted his head. "You bring food?"

"You don't think of much else, do you," Alia replied, licking her lips a little. "I came to buy you something to eat, yes, since I wasn't able to make it yesterday."

"Yes, I think you not want come. Is okay." Vatch shrugged, and turned as though he was going to walk off.

Alia grabbed him by the shoulder. "Oh no you don't. We're not done here."

"...Why not?" Vatch turned back around, a little suspicion creeping into his voice.

"Because if I let you wander off now you're only going to get caught again."

"I not get caught..."

"And because I need to know if you did it." Alia tightened her grip on his shoulder.

"Did what?" Vatch tilted his head, one big ear perked, the other flopping down.

"Don't be coy, Vatch," Alia narrowed her eyes at him. "I am not in the mood."

"Koi? Is fish, yes?"

Alia took another deep breath. "Vatch, I'm not going to warn you again."

Vatch gave a little growl, snapping his sharp little teeth. "No! I not do it! I promise you before, I no rob, and I no rob! Stupid ugly guard think all Urd'thin is robber! I try tell them is not me, but they say, have knife, have knife, must be robber! Have stolen food, must be thief! Wear clean shirt, must be stolen!"

"Is it stolen?"

"Shirt? Yes. But food? ...Yes. But knife for protection."

Alia slowly felt her irritation abating. Somehow, the furry little bastard always seemed to amuse her. "You pulled that knife on me, Vatch."

"Yes!" Vatch nodded a few times. "For protection!"

"You demanded my money," Alia reminded him.

"Was bad decision," Vatch said, glancing away. A little embarrassment flickered in his eyes for a moment as though he was humiliated to have resorted to such a tactic against a woman who later proved kind of heart. "I...I sorry."

"Alright, Vatch," Alia softened her tone, and gently patted him on the head, between his ears. "So you promise me you haven't robbed anyone else with that knife?"

"Yes!" Vatch swore to her, his dark eyes gleaming with what Alia hoped was earnestness. "Only take shirt from clothesline, only take food from dumpster, and shelf. " Vatch licked his nose a little bit, reaching up to brush his fingers through Alia's raven hued locks. "You know. Dark hair. You know."

"Yes, Vatch," Alia said gently. "I know what it's like to have to steal to fill your belly. The choice between another hungry night or a stolen loaf of bread is an easy one to make, and I've made it plenty of times in the past. But...it's no way to live your life, Vatch. Taking other people's hard work for yourself is not a good way to live."

"Oh." Vatch flicked his large ears, and tossed his head, baring a few teeth. "I just go down bank, take out big withdraw, buy all food I want, yes? Is easy, since have such high pay job!"

Alia couldn't help but laugh. She took Vatch's hand again, this time gently, and began to walk down the alleyway. The Urd'thin reluctantly began to follow her. Alia glanced back at him. "You're going to fit right in."

"What mean fit in?"

"It means you're going to get along well with me, and my friends." Alia smiled to herself.

Vatch pinned his ears back. He tugged at Alia's hand but she did not let him. "Where we go?"

"We go, Vatch," Alia said with a smirk. "To get you a job."

---

Valyrym slowly lifted his wedge shaped head from the old lilic toned pillow edged in lace. He'd been dreaming of her again. Now, though, as he woke from his nap, his thoughts were on the sound of water splashing in the distance. It was not the usual faint sound of water trickling over stone. No, this sounded like a person splashing around in a deeper pool of water. Someone was in his tub. Alia must be drawing him a bath, perhaps even preparing to share it with him this time. Now that was a lovely thought to wake up too.

Valyrym smiled to himself as he began to rise from his bed of soft things. He stretched himself out, hoisting his hind end in the air, and reaching as far forward with his front paws as he could. He yawned as well, his pink tongue curling inside his dark, gray marked muzzle. Just as he finished his stretch and stood the rest of the way up, he realized something had changed drastically.

At the end of his bedding, two Val Juniors stared back at him.

Valyrym blinked at them a few times. He lowered his head, sniffed one, then sniffed the other as if making sure he wasn't simply seeing things. Then he hissed. "You've multiplied!" With a swat of his paw, he sent the one with the unfamiliar scent flying across the room, muttering under his breath. "Damn imposter."

Valyrym limped out of his sleeping chamber, but as soon as he began to turn the sharp corner to the archway leading to the main chamber, he spotted a third Val Junior.

"Damn things are breeding like humans!" As he walked past it, he noticed this one lacked curved horns, and had little golden spots along it here and there. The golden spots proved little shielding to the lash of a dragon's tail and soon the cottony intruder was spinning end over end through the air before bouncing off the nearest wall and tumbling across the floor.

Turning the corner into his primary prison chamber, Valyrym spotted yet another stuffed visitor staring up at his carved timeline. This one was a very dark green color, almost a forest tone. A green one, a black one with golden spots? Valyrym was starting to sense a pattern. He chuckled to himself, and licked his nose. He walked over to the green one, and hoisted it up in a paw. He sniffed at it, and then turned back the way he'd come. Gauging the distance, he lobbed the toy back beyond the archway, landing it not far from the black one with golden spots.

"There," he said to himself. "I'll leave you two alone for a while." The dragon turned towards the tub and began to make his way across the chamber, calling out for the dastardly villainess behind this huggable-soft invasion. "Alia!"

"I'm over here, Val." Alia's voice drifted back to Val over the sound of running water.

"I think we're going to have to have Val Junior neutered!" The old dragon flared up his spines, tossing his head and grinning to himself. "He seems to be siring himself quite the infernal little cotton-stuffed litter!"

"That's terrible!" Alia called back to him, laughing. "You can't neuter poor Val Junior. Besides, if we neutered him I'm afraid we'd have to neuter you too. It's the only way to be fair."

Valyrym snarled, flaring his wings as he followed the sound of Alia splashing about in the tub. "Just you try it! Besides, you'd miss them too much."

"Not as much as your ego thinks I would," Alia giggled.

"Just wait till I climb into that tub with you," the dragon purred to himself. "We'll see what you think of them then."

Yet as Valyrym drew closer to the sounds of splashing water, he realized the sounds were not actually coming from Alia. In fact, Alia wasn't in the tub at all. Rather, she leaning against the outer wall of it, giggling. But the tub was full, and it was occupied. As Valyrym neared her, he saw a furry, vaguely canine-ish head poking up above the water. Large ears lay half flat against that head, with small horns sprouting between them. Sopping wet, chocolate-brown fur was slicked down against the tapered muzzle. Dark eyes widened and peered right back at the dragon, and the creature gave a startled squeak.

"Alia," Valyrym hissed, scrunching his snout up in distaste. He flared out all his spines. "That had better not be an Urd'thin in my tub."

"Dragon is mad?" The creature sunk a little lower in the murky looking water.

Alia shook her head, black tresses waving. "No, no. Dragon is not mad."

"Dragon is mad," Valyrym insisted, stalking towards the tub as though it were unsuspecting prey about to be pounced upon. "Why is there an Urd'thin in my tub?"

"Dragon sound mad," the Urd'thin said, chittering a little and pinning his ears all the way back.

"Dragon always sounds mad," Alia said with a giggle. "He's just grumpy. Don't mind him."

"So...Dragon not eat me?" The creature turned his head back and forth, gazing alternately at Alia and Valyrym. Water dripped from his snout.

"Yes, Dragon eat you," Valyrym said, snapping his jaws as loudly as he could while trying to bore holes through the little creature with his golden eyes.

"No," Alia cooed as if Val wasn't even there. "Dragon not eat you Vatch."

"Why is Dragon being ignored!" Valyrym stomped a paw against the floor. "Not wise to ignore Dragon!"

Alia finally burst out laughing. She turned around and folded her arms under her breasts, leaning against the tub wall. "Talking in the third person doesn't suit you, Valyrym."

"Alia..." Valyrym gave a long, weary sounding sigh. "Why is there an Urd'thin in my tub?"

"Because he was filthy," Alia said, as if it were the only explanation Valyrym needed.

Valyrym stalked forward until he was nearly pressing his muzzle against Alia's nose. He gestured towards the brownish water in which the Urd'thin sat. "Perhaps you should consider bathing him in clean water, then."

Alia glanced back at it, scowling. "It was clean when he went in."

"Ah, well that case, it appears as though he was carrying the contents of an overflowing latrine in his fur, and his now transferred that into my tub." He reached forward, dipped a single paw into the water, and then peered at the discolored beads of water clinging to his scales. "Thank you for that, by the way." Then he flicked the lingering droplets into the Urd'thin's face and made Vatch flinch. "Consider yourself lucky you're entirely too filthy to even consider eating."

"That good, right?" Vatch tilted his head.

"Only if you're proud of resembling the inside of a toilet."

"Actually, you have a point, Val..."

The dragon cut her off with a snap of his jaws and a flourish of his wings. "Alia, if you give my name to this dirty little mutt, I shall dump in the tub with him."

Alia only smirked at him. She reached out and rubbed the soft area around Val's gray nose, soothing him a little. "The Dragon has a point, I was going to say. It's time to send all that dirty water down the drain and replace it with fresh, soapy water."

"Perhaps you should send the Urd'thin down the drain as well," Valyrym muttered, glaring at the smaller creature.

Alia swatted him on the nose. "Be nice."

Valyrym yelped and pulled his head back, turning his smoldering gaze to Alia, instead. "I am being nice. I haven't killed him yet."

Vatch gave an audible gulp, scooting back to the far side of tub. "Dragon not like Vatch?"

"Dragon not like finding you in tub, after nap." Valyrym settled onto his haunches, coiling his tail around his paws.

"Is cause I call you fat?" Vatch perked one of his ears, the other flopped at the side of his head.

"You called me what?" Valyrym snarled.

"You get whole cake all to self...I not know you dragon, though."

"I've no idea what you're babbling about, you soggy rat." Valyrym bared a few of his fangs, letting them shine in the flickering light of the torches Alia had set up nearby. The slightly acrid scent of their flames had tinted the air. "But I shall be considerably fatter after I devour you." Valyrym waved his paw towards the creature, flaring up his central frill. "So do be sure and get nice and clean in there."

While the two creatures bantered, Alia walked around the tub, opening up the sluice gates so that the dirty water could start pouring it. It rushed down across the stone floor in a sludgy wave towards the old drain. Soon it pooled there, a filthy looking whirlpool swirling just above the grating. As the tub emptied, Alia went to add a few more hot coals to each stove, and get fresh, hot water flowing back in.

When Alia returned with an armful of soaps and things, she grinned at the dragon. "Dragon, this is Vatch. Vatch, this is dragon. If he likes you he'll give you his real name. If you hear me slip up and use it around you...well, just don't repeat it."

"Dragon eat me if say name?"

"Yes." Valyrym growled low in his throat, lowering his head a little closer to the tub.

"No, he won't," Alia assured Vatch. "But he will bitch and moan about it and then Thomas and Kaylen and you and I will never hear the end of it."

"Must you persist in spoiling all my attempts to intimidate this little runt?" Valyrym uncoiled his tail long enough to clatter his spines against the floor.

Alia simply shrugged. As the fresh hot water began to flush out the last of the dirty water, and Vatch used a washcloth to cover himself, Alia tossed a hunk of scented soap to the Urd'thin. The Urd'thin caught it in one hand, sniffed it, and then bit it and made a face. Alia burst out laughing and Vatch glared at her.

Vatch pinned his big ears bag, licking at his muzzle as though trying to get the taste of soap out of his mouth. "This smell good but taste bad!"

"It's soap, Vatch." Alia giggled to herself, leaning against the tub wall. "You don't eat it, it gets you clean."

Vatch scrunched up his vaguely canine snout. "Is make me smell like flowers! Is female scent!"

Valyrym rumbled a laugh, grinning down at Alia. "Ah, finally he says something I can agree with. You see, Alia? No one wants to smell like flowers but you."

"Shut it, Lizard," Alia said without looking back. She went around the back of the tub, closed off the sluice gates, and soon the clean hot water began to fill it. "Just rub your fur down with that, Vatch, and the water will do the rest." Alia turned around to give the Urd'thin a little more privacy while the water was still rising. "And that washcloth is for...well, washing. Not just for modesty."

"Not that he's anything to be modest about," Valyrym said, golden eyes gleaming mischievously. "I can scarcely even see that tiny little sheath."

"Hey!" Vatch yelped, huffed, and folded his arms over his thin, brown furred chest. He muttered softly, almost under his breath. "Dragon gay."

Valyrym went silent a moment, blinking as his frilled black ears swiveled forward. He snorted. "What was that?"

"Is okay Dragon." Vatch shook his head, grinning. "Vatch not judge."

"You'd better watch what you're implying there, little rodent."

"Is not imply." Vatch shrugged, glancing over at Alia. "Dragon already admit he look at Vatch sheath."

"I did not!" Valyrym stomped a paw against the stony floor like a child throwing a tantrum in an argument.

"You did, actually," Alia said, moving to put her hand on the dragon's neck. "You said it was tiny, which implies you've seen it. Which is the same as admitting you were looking." Alia stroked Valyrym's neck, and glanced back at the Urd'thin with a smirk. "And for the record Vatch, it's not tiny at all."

Vatch beamed. "Thank you!"

"I hope you both get the damn runs," the dragon grumbled under his breath. "Now, is anyone going to tell me why there's a damn Urd'thin in my damn tub?"

"There's a damn Urd'thin in your damn tub because I'm giving the damn Urd'thin a damn job as my damn assistant." Alia giggled to herself, though she seemed more amused by her play on the dragon's overuse of the word damn then Valyrym did. "Any other questions?"

"More then I can count," Valyrym said, watching Vatch splash around in the water like a hatchling at play in a puddle. "Such as, why does he act as though this is the first time he's ever seen water before?"

"Because he's never had a hot bath before."

"Given the state of the filthy water you just emptied, I find it difficult to believe he's had any manner of bath before."

"I take bath in rain," Vatch said, as though that was a perfectly reasonable option.

"You take bath in urine, from the smell of you," Valyrym hissed back at the creature.

Alia swatted the dragon's neck. "Be nice. You'll hurt his feelings."

"Perhaps if someone had hurt them earlier, he would have found reason to take better care of himself."

"You be nice to Vatch!" The Urd'thin said with a little snarl right before flinging a handful of soapy foam and water into the dragon's face.

Valyrym yelped in surprise, some of the soap bubbles stinging his eyes. "ACK!" He shook his head a few times, rubbing at his eyes with his paws. "You little vermin! I'm going to drown you in that tub!"

Alia started laughing as the dragon struggled to clear the soap from his eyes. More foamy white bubbles ran down the end of his snout, or dripped down his cheeks. Valyrym shook his head again, and some of the soap flew in all directions. Just as he'd nearly recovered, Vatch threw another handful of the frothy stuff right into the dragon's face again. This time Valyrym gave a surprisingly bird-like squawk of alarm, nearly falling over. Which of course only made Alia laugh harder.

"Oh, good shot, Vatch!" Alia cried out between bouts of laughter. "I guess it's not just your friends and family who end up throwing things at your face, eh Valyrym?"

Valyrym and Alia realized she'd just spoken his name aloud at the same time. Valyrym opened his eyes to bleary golden slits, glaring at her a moment. Alia turned to run but it was too late. Valyrym snatched her up in his front paws, hoisted her up off the ground, and promptly tossed her right into the tub. Alia gave a squeal as she arced through the air, and nearly landed atop Vatch. The Urd'thin scrambled out of the way, and Alia landed in the water with a tremendous splash. Soapy waves emanating from her landing point washed across the water in all directions and cascaded over the walls in frothy waterfalls.

Valyrym was already laughing like mad when Alia found her footing, and stood up in the nearly chest deep water. Her gray blouse was slicked down to her body, the curves of her breasts pressed against it. All her black hair was clinging to her face, and her eyes shone with both furious rage and mischievous amusement. Furious amusement, perhaps. Vatch scrambled away from her, but even the Urd'thin found himself laughing as Alia balled up her hands into fists at her hips.

"You brat!" Alia hissed at the dragon, and quickly looked around for something to throw at him. "I'm going to kill you!"

"Bring it on, Alia," Valyrym purred playfully. "I warned you, after all. Consider that the price you pay for giving him my name, and for bringing him here and putting him in my tub in the first place."

Alia found nothing suitable for tossing at the dragon and so just stood in the tub, soaked and frustrated. "I am going to kick you so hard!"

Valyrym growled a little bit, backing away from the tub. "Don't you even think about it."

"Oh, I'm thinking about," Alia replied with a wicked grin. "You'll be lucky if you can ever find that left one again!"

"But that one's my favorite," the dragon said with a playful whimper.

"That's why he's target number one!"

"Why don't you kick the Urd'thin, instead," Valyrym suggested as though trying to be helpful. "He's the one staring at your waterlogged breasts."

Alia glanced over at Vatch, who quickly looked away. That only made Alia laugh. She turned towards him and rubbed his wet head between his ears and horns. "Naughty little thing."

Vatch gave her a sheepish grin. "They look nice!"

"Why thank you, Vatch," Alia said with a smile.

Valyrym growled. "Oh, sure. If I say that when you're mad you'd curse me out."

Alia just laughed. She fished around in the water until she'd found the remains of a bar of soap, and the washcloth, then she pressed them to Vatch's chest. While her breasts were pressed so fully against her blouse, she made sure to wave them in Vatch's face, as much to make Valyrym jealous as anything else. "Here. Get yourself good and clean."

"Why don't you stroke him off while you're at it," Valyrym said, stalking back and forth beside tub in a slow circle. He looked like a warrior waiting for an opening to strike.

"Oh?" Alia quirked a brow. "You want to watch me do that?"

"I would say you wouldn't dare, but that would only give you more reason to do it."

"Ah, so you do have a jealous side," Alia said with a giggle.

Valyrym snorted, shaking his head. "I do not. It is only because you are doing it to irritate me." Then he licked his nose, grinning. "I think the proper word might be envious, anyway. If he gets stroked off, I should want the same." Then he scrunched his snout. "Ech. My nose still tastes like soap."

"Next time I'll tell him to aim for the inside of your mouth," Alia said, watching the dragon a moment. Then she turned towards Vatch, and couldn't help but notice he looked a little hopeful. He was grinning and his big ears were perked up. She laughed, and patted him on the head. "Sorry, Vatch. I don't know you that well just yet."

"Didn't stop you when we first met," Valyrym said with a smirk.

Alia twisted around, glaring at him. Her face flushed and her ears grew hot. She bit her lip a little, and then shook her head, laughing softly. "Let's just say I got carried away." She sloshed through the water back to the wall of the tub, and carefully climbed out while casting a glance back at Vatch. "Get yourself clean, alright? With any luck those clothes I fetched you should fit after you're dry."

As Alia stepped out of the tub, sloshing water everywhere, Valyrym took a step back. He glared at her in suspicion, tucking his tail protectively. "Be that as it may, I'm quite glad you were carried away as you put it."

"So am I," Alia said, smiling. With a wet hand she stroked the dragon's soft, gray-marked nose. "Even though at the time I had no way of knowing you had a history with human woman. Come to think of it, you tricked me into that, you dirty beast." She giggled at him, still stroking his nose.

"I merely suggested it. The fact your people had a history of pleasuring mine to gain our favor had little to do with it." Valyrym gave her hand a few licks, grinning. "You were the one who played with my balls till I had an erection."

Alia's face only grew redder. Much as she hated to admit Valyrym was right about anything, she had been the one to initiate their very first encounter. After all she'd been bathing him, and he'd simply been laying there letting her do as she pleased. He'd been so relaxed, it seemed as though the dragon scarcely even realized he had gotten an erection until Alia pointed it out at him. Alia wondered if his mind had been drifting to Amaleen back during their first encounter.

"Let's just say we're both happy things went the day they did, and call it even." Alia slipped her fingers beneath the dragon's chin to stroke along his jaw line.

"Call it even, yes." Valyrym grinned back at her. "I like the sound of that. Let's call everything even, actually, including throwing you in the tub. I should rather like to avoid getting kicked in the testicles if the option exists."

Alia giggled and lifted her foot, waggling her wet boot at him. "I'll tell my boot to call a ceasefire with your balls. For now. But I'm afraid you may have ruined them."

"Ruined my balls? I certainly have not." The dragon tossed his head, snorting. "They're as functional as they ever were!"

"I'm talking about my boots, you thick-skulled old salamander." Alia swatted him on the nose, grinning. "Don't make me call off the ceasefire."

Valyrym pulled his head back, neck curling into an S. He flared his wings a little. "I don't suppose there's anything I could do to soothe the rest of your furious rage?"

Alia gestured towards Vatch who was busy soaping up as much of his fur as he could. "You can stop trying to make Vatch look bad, and start being nice to him."

Valyrym grunted. Nice to some mouthy, upstart Urd'thin? That would take some effort. The scrawny little creature seemed fascinated by the effect the soap was having upon his body. He rubbed it against his fur, then ran his fingers through the trail of froth it left behind as if he couldn't understand where it came from. Then he lifted fingers covered in soapy foam to his nose to sniff at them. He sniffed a little too hard and snorted some of the foam into his nose which immediately caused him to start coughing and sneezing all over the place.

Valyrym lashed his tail, grinning. "I suppose he does do a good enough job making himself look bad. Very well." He tilted his head down towards Alia. "I shall endeavor to be...nice. But in return, I demand you tell me why he's here."

"I already told you," Alia said, stroking the dragon's cheek. Then she turned and walked back towards the stoves, beckoning for the dragon to follow. Valyrym reluctantly began to pad after the soaking wet woman, the scent of flowery soap that still clung to her left a trail he could have followed with his eyes closed.

Alia called back to him. "Because I know what it's like to be in his place. To live on the street, to steal just to survive. Knowing there's no one out there who cares about what happens to you. Being looked down upon every day of your life because you're a little different. At least when I was arrested I knew I wasn't going to be executed. It's different for him. Half the guard stations throughout the city have a standing bounty on the heads of Urd'thin known to be dangerous."

"Dangerous?" Valyrym came to a stop, glancing back at the creature splashing about in the tub. "This is the one that tried to rob you, isn't it."

"Yes, but don't hold that against him."

"Don't hold armed robbery against him?" The dragon tossed his head and flared his spines, incredulous.

"Attempted robbery," Alia reminded him, coming to a stop. She stood near a pile of clothes for the Urd'thin, as well as her gray and black pack, and a cream-toned bed sheet she'd brought down to cover something up with. "Valyrym, do this for me. I've forgiven him for that, and he and I have started to become friends. I've even been feeding him and his people a few times. When he pulled the knife on me, I think it was just..." Alia waved her hand in circles, searching for the right word. She scrunched her face a little. "A spur of the moment decision. A bad decision, but I think he was just hoping I'd give him my coins and run away. He was trying to cover his friends' escape."

Valyrym growled a little bit, his spines still flared out. He turned his head to glare back at the Urd'thin, a surge of anger running through his blood. When Alia told him about the robbery attempt, he'd joked with her at the time. But now, seeing the actual perpetrator, knowing that little bastard had pulled a knife on the woman he cared so deeply for. Valyrym growled again, louder, and started to turn around. Before he could do so, Alia reached out and snatched him by the ear.

Valyrym gave a yelp turning his head back towards Alia. She placed her other hand upon his nose, peering into his eyes. "Let it go, Valyrym. He has apologized, and I have forgiven him. I want you to do the same. Let it go."

"Alia, I cannot easily..."

"Let it go," Alia repeated, her voice soft, soothing. "For me."

Valyrym took a deep breath, and held it until his lungs burned. He closed his eyes for a few moments, opening them only when he finally exhaled again. He grit his teeth, but slowly nodded, spines relaxing against his head. "Very well, Alia."

Alia smiled at him, gently stroking the dragon's nose. "No one else would ever consider giving him a job, Valyrym. No one would help him, or his people. People think they're monsters, Valyrym. Or Vermin. That they should be slain, or driven out for the good of the city. Does that sound at all familiar, Valyrym?"

Valyrym grumbled to himself, but slowly nodded again. Then he smirked a little, his tone flat. "Your ability to draw parallels between our species is uncanny, Alia."

"You can't lament the way your species is treated, and turn around and do the same to another." She stroked his cheek, smiling. "You understand that, don't you?"

"I am not angry with him because he is an Urd'thin," Valyrym said with a little growl. "I am angry because he tried you hurt you."

Alia suddenly hugged his head tightly against her body. It surprised him a little, but it was not long before the dragon had lifted a foreleg to wrap it around her back and return the hug. "And your desire to protect me is a lovely thing, Valyrym. But Vatch and I are friends now. I can't ask you to make friends with him, but I am hiring him as my third assistant, and so you'll see him around a lot. I'm just asking you to treat him with the same respect I treated you with when I first met you."

Valyrym pulled his head back after a moment, then nuzzled at Alia's cheek. "Very well, Alia. I shall be sure to threaten to kick him in the testicles as soon as I get the chance."

"Not exactly the part of our meeting I meant, but it's a start," Alia said with a little giggle.

Valyrym thumped his tail against the ground, spines rattling. He flared a wing, and flicked it towards the cream colored sheet covering an unknown object nearby. "What's all that?"

"The clothes are for Vatch." Alia put her hands on her hips, grinning. 'Though if I'd known you were going to pull that little stunt with the tub I'd have brought down dry clothes for myself, as well."

"You may as well start keeping extra sets of clothing down here."

"Not a bad idea."

"That way I could throw you in the tub at my leisure." Valyrym grinned wickedly, his golden eyes glimmering with mischief. "If the Rat wasn't in there I would have joined you."

"Keep it up, Dragon, and you won't get your present."

Valyrym cocked his head to the side, frilled ears perked. "I have already seen the stuffed menagerie you've coaxed Val Junior into breeding."

Alia giggled at that, scrunching her nose a little. "I rather doubt Val Junior would need any "coaxing" to breed. From the way you tell it, you males practically throw yourself on every available female just because she starts to smell nicer then usual."

Valyrym glared at her a moment. He wanted to tell Alia that there was more then that to it...but there wasn't. "That is about the gist of it, yes."

Alia walked back towards the sheet, laying across the mysterious object. "I hope you like the other stuffed dragons, though. I actually had to work very hard to find any that looked familiar."

Alia crouched down, looking up at Valyrym. For a moment, ghosts danced behind his eyes. Memories of friends he'd not seen in ages, rekindled by the tale he told her, and the sight of cotton-stuffed reminders. If Val Junior could become such a beautiful reminder, then so too could the other dragons. Valyrym swallowed hard, and then slowly began to smile. "Thank you, Alia. They are beautiful. I shall cherish them." Then his smile faded. "And if you tell them that I shall sink them in the tub with that filthy Urd'thin."

Alia giggled a little but, but she was suddenly nervous. She felt as though a host of teeny tiny dragon hatchlings were all chasing each other's tails inside her belly. "I'm glad you like them. I have one more, actually. I almost didn't find this one and...well..."

In truth, Alia wasn't sure how Valyrym would feel about Little Ky. She hoped it would make him happy, but part of her feared it might prove a more sorrowful reminder then the others. Valyrym felt differently about Kylaryn then any of the other dragons. She hesitated for a moment even to show it to him.

"Is it...blue?"

"Yes, Valyrym," Alia said softly. "It is." She licked her lips, her mouth a little dry. "I thought it might make a lovely surprise for you, and I searched everywhere before I finally found a very, very special one. But...once I had it, I realized...well, I brought you Val Junior without ever knowing about Valar. Now I know all about Kylaryn, and if you don't want to see this..."

Silence settled across them like a cold snow as Alia trailed off. The old dragon's heart was thundering in his chest so forcefully he feared it might explode through his sternum and stain Alia's cream-toned sheet crimson. What a way to go that would be. For a moment, he considered telling Alia to wrap up the blue dragon and take it away from him. Valyrym wasn't sure he could handle it.

As often as he thought about Valar and Amaleen, he spent almost as much time trying not to think about Kylaryn. It was not that he did not miss Kylaryn, for he absolutely did. But things between them were different. The more he might think of Kylaryn, the more guilt he would feel over leaving someone behind who had grown to love him so deeply. Valyrym was already tormented daily by the knowledge of leaving his son behind to pursue his revenge, and he simply tried not to think about poor Kylaryn.

Please Valyrym, don't die.

Come back to me some day.

Find me. Find your son.

Valyrym had not died, but never would he be able to fulfill his promise to return to Kylaryn some day if he survived. For a moment, he wondered if Kylaryn was even still alive. For all he knew, she was dead. For all he knew, they were all dead. He had left Kylaryn in charge of Death In The Night, and left her alone to raise their son together. In the end, Aran'alia had fallen, Death In The Night had failed, and all the dragons he once knew were either dead, or exiled to some far flung land.

And yet...

Alia watched Valyrym in silence. She could see clouds of thought and specters of memories drifting behind his golden eyes. It seemed as though the walls he'd long ago erected to shield what remained of his broken soul from the outside world would never be the same. Alia felt as though he'd taken those very walls down brick by bloody brick in order to allow himself to tell her the full harrowing truth of his tale. He'd tried to put them back up after that, but Alia could see it in his eyes even if no one else could tell the difference. There were gaping holes in Valyrym's inner walls now, and they could never truly be mended. And shining through one of those holes, Alia could see the flickering light of a truth Valyrym denied even to himself.

In all the many years since he'd left her behind, Valyrym had grown to love Kylaryn.

When Valyrym finally spoke, he did so with a hoarse, trembling voice. "I should very much like to see her."

Alia smiled at him, and slowly pulled away the sheet to reveal the stuffed blue dragon she'd acquired from the Aran'alian vendor. The sight took Valyrym's breath way. The dragon stared at it a moment, and slowly crept forward as if afraid the toy was going to bite him. Knowing Kylaryn, it probably would if it was able. Valyrym crept closer and closer to the thing, lowering his head to stare it until he was nearly muzzle to muzzle with Little Ky.

"It is..." Valyrym didn't know what to say. The coloration was nearly perfect. "It...it is..."

"It's her, isn't it," Alia said for him.

Valyrym flopped down onto his belly as though suddenly sapped of his all his strength. He pulled the stuffed blue toy towards him with his fore legs, looking it over. Indigo wings. Dark blue back, paler belly. Gray horns. The dragon blinked away a few tears. For a moment, a bittersweet moment, he was holding Kylaryn. Everything was different. He had never left. He watched Valar grow. Kylaryn was his life mate. Amaleen was un-avenged, but his family was happy to have him in their lives. And Valyrym was not a murderer of children.

And then Valyrym was back in the dungeon.

Valyrym heaved a heavy sigh, and pulled the toy tightly against the plates of his chest. "Yes, Alia," he said with a shaking voice. He sniffled a little bit, closing his eyes. Alia moved over to stroke his neck gently. "Yes, it is her. It is Kylaryn."

"I hope you like it," Alia said, her voice barely audible. She truly hoped it would become a happy reminder for her dragon. She wanted ever so much to make him happy.

A ghost of a smile flickered across the dragon's muzzle. "It like it very much. Even if..."

"I know, Valyrym," Alia said. She crawled to his head and gently kissed his muzzle. "I know. I'm glad you like it."

Valyrym turned his head to look up at Alia. For a few moments, a strange sort of fear shone in his eyes, wet and unhidden. "I do not know what deed I must have done to have earned your friendship, Alia, but you have truly made my life worth living again. I...Alia, I..." Valyrym took a breath, and let it out in a sigh. "Alia, I dare not put my feelings for you to words, because I fear for what will happen to you when I do."

"You don't have to say anything, Valyrym," Alia whispered, then gently kissed the dragon's ear. "But...I...well..." She gave a nervous giggle. "I suppose I'd better not say it either."

Valyrym lifted his head a little more to lick her cheek. "Let us be superstitious together, then."

For a time, the two of them simply lay together on the floor of the dungeon. For those long moments, there was no one else in all the world but Alia and Valyrym. There was no other feelings then happiness, warmth, and love. Alia would have been happy just laying there in wonderful silence with Valyrym all day long, if not for the only other occupant of the dungeon eventually interrupting them.

"Hey! Water getting cold over here!" Vatch called out. "Bring clothes, yes?"

Alia burst out laughing. Valyrym lifted his head, growing at Vatch. "Are you sure I can't eat him?"

"No, Valyrym," Alia said, slowly rising back to her feet. "...I'm not sure."

That made Valyrym grin wickedly. As Alia walked over to get Vatch's clothes, Valyrym thumped his tail against the stone floor, still clutching Little Ky against his chest. "So what have you named this little beastie, then?"

Alia giggled as she walked past the dragon. "I call that one Little Ky."

"Little Ky?" A look of uncertainly crossed the dragon's muzzle. "I suppose there are worse names you could have given it." He held the toy out at foreleg's length for a moment. "She's not going to stare at me as though judging me all the time, is she?"

"She certainly is," Alia said, still giggling. She reached the tub, set the clothes down outside, then opened the sluice gate to start draining it. She turned away from Vatch to give him some privacy, and began to walk back towards Valyrym. "But only because she loves you."

Valyrym chuckled a little at that. He stared at the toy a little while longer, licking his muzzle. "This..." A note of nervous confusion crept into his voice. "This really is Kylaryn."

"Yes, I thought it was." Alia stood beside the dragon, resting a hand on his shoulder as he looked the toy over.

Valyrym scrunched up his snout, glancing down at Alia. "Alia, why is this Kylaryn?"

Alia laughed, shrugging. "I've no idea."

"This isn't Illandran, is it?" Valyrym sniffed the thing again. He scrunched his nose, and sniffed it harder. "This smells...familiar. I smell...I smell the rain on this."

Alia smiled, rubbing the dragon's scales. "The silver rain?" Alia's smile only grew. "Oh! I have something to tell you about that!"

Valyrym took a deep breath through his nostrils, pressing the toy right up against his nose. "Alia," Valyrym whispered, his voice growing tense enough to make Alia a little nervous. "Where did you get this?"

Alia wrung her hands together a moment. The dragon's sudden concern sent a chill rattling down her spine that was not at all related to the still-wet clothing she wore. "From a Vendor. An Aran'alian vendor, actually. I mean, I no there's no Aran'alia anymore, but this person was from there. They had a wagon with rain painted on it and everything. And...I got to drink silver rain! They were selling it, and..."

"Alia," Valyrym said sharply. Not that he minded Alia's ramblings, but right now he needed to focus. "An Aran'alian vendor was selling this?"

"No," Alia shook her head. "It was in the window, actually. I tried to buy it for you, but they said it was an antique. I...well...when I told them how desperately I'd like to get it for my friend, the vendor...well...I think she might have been...that is...she seemed to know who you were."

Valyrym pulled his head back a little, snorting. Then he found himself laughing, much to Alia's surprise. "I'll bet she did."

"Valyrym," Alia asked, reaching out to touch his cheek with a hand. "What is it?"

"It is hope, Alia," Valyrym said, taking another deep inhalation of the toy. "You probably can't smell it. But this toy's scent is so familiar. It smells like the forests after the rains in spring, and it smells like the fields of wild flowers and it smells like sweet spices I have not smelled in so many years." Valyrym hugged the toy to himself, grinning. "Alia, this toy smells like Kylaryn. The scent is somewhat faded, but it is there."

It smelled like Kylaryn? Alia furrowed her brow, deep in thought. Did that mean that the woman had gotten it from Kylaryn herself? Or had Kylaryn given it to someone else who eventually gave it to the woman? That would explain how she knew about Alia's friend. But...did that mean Kylaryn knew Valyrym was here? Trapped? Why hadn't she come to...well, that answer was obvious. Trying to free Valyrym by force would have been suicide for any number of dragons. But it still left so many more questions. It did convince Alia of one thing, though. She must have been right about the woman.

"Valyrym," Alia said gently, stroking his neck as he seemed lost in his own little world, beaming at the stuffed dragon who smelled so familiar. "There's something you need to know. I could be wrong, but I think I got that toy from a spy. I think she might be working with Aran'alian rebels."

"Death In The Night," Valyrym said as much to himself as to Alia.

"I think so," Alia said, though she wasn't sure the dragon was looking for someone to agree with him.

Valyrym gave a long sigh, and rose back up to all fours. He glanced down at Alia, speaking solemnly. "Then I have something important to show you, Alia."