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The Dragon In The Dungeon: How Far We Fall

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Chapter One

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"Alia Silverrain. You are hereby summoned before The Queen's Court."

Alia took a deep breath to try and calm the hammering of her heart. It was time. She told herself she was ready. She was prepared. This would go well. Alia repeated the mantra in her head a few times. She'd been waiting for this moment for some time, and she murmured to herself that she held the advantage here. Still, despite her preparation and her attempts at confidence, she could not stop the twisted noose of nervousness from tightening around her throat.

Lord Armadine had finally brought his charges of assault against Alia before the Queen for a formal hearing.

Alia flicked her dark green eyes towards Bownen, the Queen's servant who'd come to fetch her. "Thank you Bownen," she said with a little smile.

Bownen returned the smile, bowing to her a moment. He'd give her a few moments to finish collecting herself. He folded his arms behind his back, and took up a position near the row of high-backed chairs with the gold toned cushions along the wood-paneled wall. Alia occupied one chair but the rest were empty. The room itself was but a small antechamber for those awaiting their turn before the Queen in the Grand Hall.

Alia was glad Bownen allowed her a little time. She rather liked the Queen's personal attendant after getting to know him little bit. After Her Majesty came to visit Valyrym, Alia had met with the Queen a few more times, and Bownen was always around. Alia found him a friendly enough sort in the rare moments when he wasn't kowtowing to stiff traditions and royal protocols. The older man had instructed her on courtside protocol and the way politics worked, and he was just as quick to point out when Alia was being wildly inappropriate. Alia had also caught the little smile that flashed across his face when he muttered that only he was allowed to get away with saying inappropriate things to Her Majesty.

Oh, the look on Bownen's face when the Queen herself mentioned that the old dragon dwelling beneath the castle had gotten away with far worse.

Alia lifted her face to smile at Bownen. The lifelong royal attendant was entering his old age with as much grace as possible. His hair was more silver than gray, and so carefully coifed Alia could easily imagine him brushing every individual hair one at a time. Compared to the colorful garb Alia usually saw him wearing, Bownen was dressed in unusually drab tones today. He wore a sharply cut gray overcoat with silver buckles along the sleeves over the top of a simple, indigo vest done up with ebony buttons. His trousers bore similar colors, dark blue with gray piping, tucked into dull gray stockings. Black leather shoes and silver buckles completed his outfit.

The colors of Illandra, Alia noted. Formal colors for a formal trial.

Alia allowed herself a bitter smirk. As if this were a formal trial. She knew how this was going to go. The Queen made it clear enough. Armadine was here to drag her through the muck. To punish her for daring to raise her hands to a noble, to defend the dragon from his unwarranted torment. The noble was going to do whatever he could to smear Alia's name and reputation in front of as many people as possible.

The Queen had clarified a few other things for Alia recently, as well. Alia knew there was little she could truly do to dispute the charges. She had after all left the man with a few scars, a few less teeth, and a permanently reconfigured nose. The Queen would have to issue punishment of some kind, yet admitting to the crime would lessen the harshness of the sentence. Whatever the punishment, Alia would gladly beat the smugness off Armadine's face again just to keep him away from her dragon.

Perhaps more importantly, Alia knew Kathlyn would give her a chance to tell her side of the story. The Queen wished the Warden to tell everyone in the court exactly what Armadine had done to earn his beating. Let the other nobles see what a monster he was. With any luck they might even glimpse the leader Alia could be.

That was part of the Queen's endgame, after all. To convince the rest of the kingdom that the Aran'alians were fit to lead themselves. Alia would do whatever she could to help the Queen in that effort. This was likely to be the Queen's last official business in Illandra before she left on her journey to visit Aran'alia. To propose liberation to the land that Illandra had conquered so many years ago.

A liberated Aran'alia. The very idea was enough to make Alia smile as she rose from her chair. Holding her head high and squaring her shoulders, Alia followed Bownen into the Grand Hall of Illandra.

From the small, wood-paneled antechamber that served as waiting room Bownen led Alia through an immense wooden door. The door was cut from dark walnut and carved in detailed relief. The image upon it depicted the first King of Illandra, standing before the kingdom's signature five-towered keep. In the carving, the King held his hand to the castle as though raising the five massive towers through sheer force of will. The sun rose behind them as if to greet his great achievement.

Beyond that door was the Grand Hall of Illandra where the Queen's throne sat. The Grand Hall was in some ways the centerpiece of the Central Keep, the innermost sanctum of the Illandran castle. Though Queen Kathlyn preferred to conduct business in her offices, the Grand Hall was where she received important dignitaries and visiting rulers, where she conducted high level meetings with her generals, and where she held court when a matter arose that she herself had to preside over.

Bownen came to a stop just inside the door. Alia paused as well, peering around the Grand Hall. Towering columns of rich, red marble lined the long, wide chamber. Each red column was fluted in a spiraling pattern and wreathed in an elegant swirl of golden vine. Near the ceiling the pillars spanned out into deeply curved arches that stretched for the length of the room. It reminded Alia a little of the pillars and ceiling of Valyrym's dungeon, though those here were far more elegant if not as large. Between each column stood delicate fixtures that were all golden curves holding mirrored lamps. Muted light in scintillating colors shone down through wall length stained glass windows depicting scenes from Illandran history. The room was heavily scented with lilac, lavender, and faintly smoky incense that burned in pots near the door. The murmur of dozens upon dozens of hushed voices rolled around the room as though the sound was a living thing looking for a way to escape its stony confines.

The crowd was gathered towards the far end of the court. There were more nobles and wealthy Illandrans there than Alia had ever seen in one place. Most of them were likely part of the families that ruled the various conquered provinces on Illandra's behalf. Many of them looked as though they thought clothing only existed to try and prove you had more wealth than the person next to you. Hell, Alia would be surprised if half of them could even dress themselves. They probably had servants for that.

Alia smirked, then bit her tongue as she chastised herself. She should not make such generalizations. Surely even among the wealthy and the nobles there were plenty of good people. If she wanted them to think better of the Aran'alians, then she had to set the example. She had to think better of them. She could not let people like Armadine give all the nobles and wealthy Illandrans a bad name.

Queen Kathlyn herself had already put the truth to that lie.

Bownen started forward again, leading Alia along a long golden rug that seemed spotless despite the many footfalls that must have already passed across it. Alia let her eyes wander over the assembled crowd as she followed Bownen towards the far end of the Grand Hall. Alia had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at half the outfits she saw. There was a man dressed head to toe in scarlet silk, complete with tri-pointed hat with three bright red feathers. Another man bore so many layers of stockings, vests, jackets, and other garments that he looked more like a puffy children's doll than an actual person. It was a wonder he hadn't gotten lost inside his own clothing on the way to the court. A woman with a frilly purple hoop skirt bore so much golden jewelry she actually seemed to have trouble moving around without it interfering.

The whole damn lot looked comprised of fools and self-obsessed fops. No wonder the Queen disliked them.

Finally, Alia spotted people who seemed to have dressed as though they had more sense than money rather than the other way around. She was not especially surprised to see that they had already taken their seats. Clearly they were more concerned with the outcome of this trial than they were about simply being seen here. There was an older man sitting by himself, wearing a simple green and gray jacket. A woman in a stylish but comfortable blue dress had settled herself nearby. Alia almost wished she knew who half the people here were.

One thing was certain, she was the only Aran'alian in the room. That much was not a surprise to her. She suspected half the people here employed Aran'alian servants and yet had never seen one rise to a position of power like Alia herself had. Her suspicions seemed confirmed when the various nobles and other gathered men and women set eyes upon her. Surprise flickered in many gazes, and whispers began to pass from ear to ear, hushed yet resonating.

Alia could almost hear them now.

Oh my, that must be her. She really is an Aran'alian!

To think they'd give someone like her such a job.

How dare she strike someone above her status. I hope the Queen tosses her in that dungeon with her filthy beast forever.

Come to think of it, that last one wouldn't be so bad.

Alia kept her posture strong and proud as she strode forward, unafraid to meet anyone's gaze. She smiled at them, one and all. She saw hostility here and there. Sometimes it was open and scornful. Other times it was shielded but roiling. Yet Alia also saw acceptance among some of those in the crowd. Others seemed pleasantly surprised the Aran'alian woman seemed so well mannered. A few even seemed hopeful. The older man in the green jacket smiled at Alia and gave her a little nod.

Alia returned the smile, and absently adjusted her blouse just a little. She'd dressed for the occasion. A few days earlier she had paid Paulson a visit and asked the clothier to tailor her something suitable for a trial held before the Queen. Paulson knew both the Queen and protocol well. He'd worked for Kathlyn for a time. Alia suspected they had once been more than simple friends though she dared not bring it up. Paulson was happy to take the request.

The outfit Alia now wore consisted of a blouse cut carefully to present a look of authority rather than femininity. It did not hide Alia's curves but nor did it show them off. The blouse was the color of slate, with indigo patches across the shoulders, and matching indigo piping down the sleeves and around the collar. The traditional golden Warden's Office emblems were pared down to a smaller size and settled into those indigo patches to accent the colors of Illandra. A pair of gray leather breeches complimented the colors of the blouse well, with black and gold stitching down the outside of each leg. A leather belt tooled in a scale pattern and dyed a dark blue continued the Illandran color theme. Both the belt and her black shoes bore silver buckles.

Alia tied her raven-hued hair into a long ponytail with a few simple blue bands. She wore her heirloom necklace. In the light cast from mirrored lamps the sapphire shone with a rich blue light and the silver frame sparkled. The sunlight that poured through stained glass highlighted the olive-toned skin of her cheeks in a way that made them seem even darker than usual. That was alright with Alia. Let them know she was proud to be Aran'alian. All the better when they would hear her testimony and discover she was not some ill-bred, uneducated backwater simpleton like they might expect.

"This will be your seat," Bownen said softly. He gestured towards a small square table of rich dark cherry wood. The table was carefully polished to show off the swirls of black that marked the dark, reddish brown wood. A series of folders were already stacked atop the table for her. There was also a small ledger available for taking notes, as well as a black feathery quill sitting inside a silver pot of ink. Bownen quickly moved to pull out Alia's chair. Soft red cushions covered the seat and the back of the chair. "Here you are, Miss Silverrain."

Alia smiled at his formality. "Thank you, Bownen."

Alia took her seat, and scooted it forward to the table, glancing around. She scanned the crowd for familiar faces. Enric's red-haired head was easy enough to spot. Much as she wished to smile at him and wave, this was not the place. Yet it was a comfort knowing he was already here, ready to support her. The guard wore a dark blue shirt with sleeves of silver, and formal gray trousers. She recognized a few other faces as well, including Servant Master Kesh.

Nearer the throne was a small area of seats reserved for those closer to the Queen. Several of her advisers sat there, though Alia did not recognize them personally. She did, however, recognize Prince Elvir. Despite spending quite a bit of time with the Queen, Alia had never met Kathlyn's son. Yet even without the portraits of him in the Queen's chambers the resemblance was clear. Elvir held the same red hair, the same piercing blue eyes, and at least at the moment, the same regal gaze. He was a stout looking young man with a slightly square jaw and a soldier's build. The Prince wore a regal looking tunic of deep purple with gold hemmed sleeves, and a bit of a frill around the collar. Several guards stood nearby, keeping watch over him.

On the other side of the Grand Hall was another table set up like Alia's. Alia scowled when she saw Lord Armadine seated at it. A set of folders and small books lay on the table before him. Armadine was dressed in a silken, pale-green jacket with leaf-like patterns outlined in gold strewn across the sleeves. Dark golden trousers with black threading that spiraled down the seam were neatly tucked into formal gray stockings just above elegant black boots. Next to him sat an older man in set of simple, brown clothes. The shirt and trousers both looked nicely pressed. Alia had spotted the man a time or two before, usually in a robe. Armadine and his adviser were conversing quietly and if they'd noticed Alia's gaze they did not bother to acknowledge it.

The Queen's throne was as yet empty. Kathlyn would be the last to actually enter the Hall. Alia was pleasantly surprised to find the throne almost as grandiose as she'd imagined. Not that she was disappointed by Kathlyn's general lack of royal pageantry but it was nice to see there was a bit of royal pomp somewhere in Illandra.

The throne itself was large and high-backed but not so immense that Kathlyn would get lost when she sat upon it. It seemed designed after an elegant take on the five-towered keep that was Illandra's emblem. Five wooden spires rose above the thick azure and ash tone cushions that covered the back of the chair. Each spire was a different kind of wood: oak, mahogany, walnut, and two more exotic dark woods Alia could not identify. Each spire was carved with a different design. One pinnacle held curling vines, another ended in the point of a spear while a third was engraved with stylized gryphons and so on.

The throne itself sat upon a raised dais of the same red marble that made up the pillars lining the Grand Hall. Three steps at the side of the dais were edged in gold. Though the throne took up the center of the dais there was plenty of room all around it. If the Black Bird were still in town, Alia could not help but wonder if he would have been seated next to the Queen, glowering and serving as her personal bodyguard during such a trial. Perhaps the open secret of his existence was not quite that open. Yet it certainly would have made for an intimidating entrance should the Queen have strode in atop the gryphon.

Alia knew the Queen hardly needed a gryphon to keep her safe. There were already a few of the Kathlyn's personal guard keeping watch over the Grand Hall. They'd searched everyone who entered the room already. Now some of them were positioned near the throne while others stood alongside the various entrances. They were just as heavily armed as they had been every other time Alia had seen them. The only difference now was that each wore a gray and blue surcoat over their plated armor and mail, a silver keep with five towers emblazoned upon the front of each surcoat. Formal colors for a formal trial.

A hidden door ensconced in the stone wall behind the throne suddenly opened, and another dozen guards filed out. As one they marched to the area between the throne and the tables where Alia and Armadine sat. Each man bore a heavy spear in addition to his other weapons, tied with ceremonial blue and silver ribbons. In perfect unison they thumped the haft of their spears against the stone floor three times. The sound echoed through the hall, demanding silence from all those in attendance.

"Be silent and stand for the Queen!" Called out the guard's captain. Alia recognized the man from his standoff with Valyrym.

Alia rose to her feet, as did everyone else who was not already standing. Anyone occupied with conversation quieted and turned towards the throne. Bownen walked out in front of everyone, gesturing in a grand arc towards the door. "Presenting Her Majesty, The Queen of Illandra, Kathlyn the Second."

Bownen was the first to drop to a knee, and bow his head. He did so before Kathlyn had even emerged, and the rest of the audience followed his lead though the guards did not budge. Alia lowered herself to one knee and bowed, thankful for the previous instructions she'd been given by Bownen the first time she'd met the Queen. While everyone kept their heads down, Kathlyn entered the room and crossed to her throne. Alia saw golden fabric sliding across the stone floor, then saw it hoisted slightly as Kathlyn ascended the three golden edged stairs. Only when Kathlyn had settled into the throne did she acknowledge those bowing before her.

"Be seated," was all the Queen said.

Alia blinked. She'd half expected Kathlyn to wave her hand, and tell everyone to stop acting so damn formal. The fact she did not simply reminded Alia this was not a private meeting. It also made her smile. She wondered just how many people here even knew the Queen as well as she did. How many of those self-obsessed nobles knew of the Queen's dislike for formality? Alia would have loved to see the looks on their face if they learned how the Queen had deigned to share casual conversation with an Aran'alian. And if they ever learned that she'd snuggled up against a dragon, they'd probably soil their over-priced trousers.

Alia rose and moved to her seat along with everyone else. Rows of cushioned chairs and simple benches were placed on either side of the grand hall for those in attending in observation. Once people had settled into their seats, the guards moved to take up new positions between those observing the trial and the Queen herself. Some of them flanked the throne directly. Others stood near the benches and seats, and yet more guards remained positioned at all doorways. Another set of guards moved to stand alongside the tables where Alia and Armadine sat. Alia grit her teeth, resolving not to let the guards unnerve her.

"Alia Silverrain," Kathlyn said as soon as silence had descended over the hall. Alia snapped her eyes to the Queen. "You are called before this court to answer for charges of unwarranted assault inflicting bodily harm."

"Your Majesty, if I may," Armadine said, his voice as smooth as oiled silk. "The charges are in fact, unwarranted assault inflicting bodily harm upon a nobleman."

Kathlyn tilted her head, her face totally unreadable. "Your point Lord Armadine?"

"It is my understanding that such a crime carries a higher penalty."

Kathlyn leaned forward slightly in her throne. "You believe that because you are a nobleman, any assault upon your person should receive a stiffer punishment than assault upon anyone else?"

"Stiffer punishment than assault upon a person of a lesser position, yes," Armadine smiled to himself. "That is my understanding of the law. Is it inaccurate?"

"Your understanding is correct, Lord Armadine."

Alia winced inwardly, but kept the grimace from showing upon her face. Armadine was quick, she had to give him that. And well prepared. Yet Alia had not come here unprepared, either. Hell, the Queen herself had helped Alia prepare for this. Alia smiled for a moment, then looked over the Queen who now sat before her.

The woman on the throne was almost unrecognizable. Every trace of Kathlyn's humble private manner had been completely replaced by the aura of a monarch in absolute command of her empire. Her dark blue eyes were unreadable, and her gently lined face seemed cut from stone. She wore a dress that cascaded down her body in layers of golden lace and fabric that despite the color and expense looked completely regal rather than lavish. Much of her gray-streaked red hair was obscured by the heavy Illandran Crown. Much like the throne on which she sat, the crown itself called to mind the five towers of the Illandran keep. A heavy gold circlet supported five spires each carved from a different precious metal. Each spire also bore a different jewel. The circlet itself was fastidiously engraved with tiny yet detailed images of Illandran history and former monarchs.

"Alia Silverrain." The Queen's tone made it clear she expected an acknowledgement.

Alia bowed her head. "Your Majesty?"

"You have been charged with unwarranted assault inflicting bodily harm," The Queen said, repeating the previous charge. Then she glanced at Armadine. "On a nobleman." She turned her attention back to Alia. "How do you answer these charges?"

"I offer no dispute that I assaulted this man," Alia said, keeping her eyes level with the Queen. "Yet I..."

"You see?" Armadine waved his hand towards Alia dismissively, raising his voice for the crowd. "She admits it! She's an Aran'alian, so that is no surprise." There were rumblings of agreement from some in attendance. "We all know they're savages at heart."

"Armadine." The Queen's tone was sharp, and Armadine went silent. "You will keep your outbursts to yourself or I shall have you gagged. I will not have you interrupting everyone with your blather. You shall get your turn to speak, but you shall wait until such time has arrived. Is that clear?"

Armadine bowed his head as deeply as he could, a decent attempt at feigning true humility. "Crystalline, Your Majesty. My apologies."

Kathlyn glared at him a moment, then waved her hand towards Alia. Alia noticed she hadn't painted her nails today. A shame, she rather liked the blue tones that often adorned them. "You were saying, Alia Silverrain?"

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Alia licked her lips, forcing strength to her voice. The Queen was on her side. The Queen wanted her to tell her story. "I was saying that while I do not dispute that I did indeed hit Lord Armadine, I will dispute to my dying day the fact that it was unwarranted. Lord Armadine is guilty of a far more serious assault than the one he suffered."

"Yes," Kathlyn said, crooking a few fingers towards Bownen. The attendant climbed the stairs to the throne, bowed, and passed her a small book bound in red leather before backing away. "I have read your pre-trial testimony. You claim to be defending your prisoner."

"That is correct Your Majesty."

Kathlyn flicked through the book. "So. Your defense is based upon the fact that Lord Armadine injured The Dragon, and you assaulted him in return."

"This was not a back-alley brawl," Armadine spoke up. "She struck me from nowhere."

Alia kept her tongue. She was happy to let Armadine tie a noose with his own words and hang himself with it. The Queen glared at him, and with a sigh Armadine went silent. He glared at Alia, folding his arms. Alia glared back at him for a moment but refused to play his game.

"That is correct Your Majesty. I realize I was wrong for punishing him in return, and that I should have brought the matter to your attention. But when the incident occurred, Lord Armadine had returned to assault the dragon a second time. The injuries I inflicted upon him were in fact in defense of the dragon. I simply could not let him harm my prisoner again."

Armadine blinked. He slowly lifted his head, giving Alia a glare through narrowed eyes. He had not expected that line of defense. He murmured to Traval, and the older man began to scribble down a few notes.

Alia went on. "As I have already admitted, yes, I struck this man. I will accept without complaint any punishment Your Majesty sees fit. However, I would first humbly beg Your Majesty to allow me to tell my side of the story. To explain just what cruelty Lord Armadine had already inflicted. Why I had to resort to violence to ensure he was unable to inflict such torment again when I saw him heading towards the dungeon stairs." Alia paused a moment, letting her words hang in the air. "With his whip." There were a few murmurs among the audience, just as Alia had hoped. "I would also ask that you consider such facts before you hand down whatever punishment you feel is just."

Alia thought she saw a glimmer of amusement flicker in Kathlyn's eyes. The Queen seemed pleased so far, though Alia could not be certain. "That is just and fair, Alia. However, to allow such testimony means I shall also have to allow Armadine to offer his own testimony. The same holds true if you should call any witnesses before me. Do you agree to this?"

"I do, Your Majesty."

Kathlyn steepled her fingers, and gave Armadine a hard look. "Then let us see just how deep this rabbit hole goes."

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Chapter Two

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Queen Kathlyn leaned back in her throne, waving at Lord Armadine. "As you have brought the charges against Alia, and we are proceeding directly to arguments on the nature of her punishment, you may proceed with your case."

"Thank you, Your Majesty. If I may rise?"

"You may."

Armadine slowly pushed himself up from his chair, wincing as though the effort of simply standing brought him pain these days. He clutched his ribs a moment, and gave a little groan. He straightened, and slowly made his way to the floor before the Queen's throne. The slim cut of his light green silk jacket, the tightness of the cream colored shirt beneath, and very straight lines of his trousers made him look even more slender than usual. He almost looked almost frail. Alia scowled at what she suspected was a ploy to win sympathy from the Queen.

Poor, fragile Armadine, beaten to within an inch of his life by a woman. An Aran'alian woman at that. The thought made Alia smile for a moment but she quickly wiped the smirk from her lips. This was not the time to feel smug.

Alia quickly opened the small ledger provided for her, and reached for the quill sitting in an silver inkpot. She ran her fingers over the soft ruffles of the black feathery quill. Definitely one of Krek's feathers. Alia was starting to suspect Kathlyn must have pulled them from the gryphon by the handful. Grinning at that mental image, Alia scribbled down a few notes. She glanced at Armadine, watching him limp around in front of everyone as though she'd injured his legs. Granted, after she'd battered his nose, knocked out a few teeth, kicked his ribs in and kneed his balls, his legs might be about the only part of him she hadn't injured.

Unexpectedly Armadine turned towards Alia, and walked towards her table. He hesitated as he neared it, a quiver of fear running through his body. Alia scowled. He was pretty good at this. He took a breath as though steeling himself, and came forward to set a hand upon Alia's table.

"Miss Silverrain," Armadine said, his voice a silken growl. "Are you familiar with Lord Asterbury?"

Alia flinched before she could catch herself. She had not expected that question. Armadine had done his research. "I'm familiar with..."

Armadine cut her off, turning to the crowds with a flourish of his hand. "Some weeks before you so horrifically assaulted me, you assaulted Lord Asterbury did you not?"

"I defended myself from..."

"You attacked him in the very halls of this castle, much as you attacked me."

"I was defending myself from him!" Alia fought the urge to jump to her feet. Color rushed to her face, and anger flashed in her eyes. "He was..."

Armadine's words came faster and sharper than Alia's. "Defending yourself? Ah, in much the same way you claim to have been defending your dragon. Preemptively. You thought perhaps there was a chance Lord Asterbury and I might do something you might not like, and so you took it upon yourself to strike us down, just in case. That is not defense, Miss Silverrain, that is assault."

Alia rose to her feet despite her best intentions. Her voice rose just the same. "The man pressed me into a corner and forced his hands beneath my blouse!"

Armadine took a swift step back as though afraid she would strike him again. "Did he? One claim of defense is reasonable, but two within the span of several weeks? Two grievous assaults, both upon noblemen now in charge of the provinces your people once called home. This is beginning to sound less like self-defense Miss Silverrain, and more like an agenda. More like a pattern."

Alia balled up her fists and swallowed hard. Armadine was getting to her, but he'd also brought up something she had not considered. Lord Asterbury had been but a visiting noble, and in truth Alia had no idea which house he'd belonged to. She hadn't expected Armadine to dig so deeply, and she could not refute the fact it did look a little bad for her. But she had to get control of herself. She couldn't let this slithering worm get the best of her. He was manipulating her just as he was manipulating the crowd, and Alia refused to play that game any more than she had to.

"Lord Asterbury caught me in the hallway," Alia said, letting her voice rise with strength rather than anger. "He pressed me into an alcove. If you've seen him, you know Lord Asterbury is a large man, strong. I could hardly struggle against such a man, but I asked him several times to release me. He forced his hands beneath my blouse and..." Alia trailed off. A little trepidation crept into her voice, her words wavering. "He...touched me..." She glanced away, swallowing hard. "I did only what I had to do to get away. If you consider defending yourself from a lecherous man touching your privates to be assault, then you and I have very different definitions of the term, my Lord."

Alia lifted a hand to wipe at her eyes, and Armadine leveled his gray gaze at her. For a tiny moment, an almost imperceptible smirk tugged at the very corners of his mouth. Alia was better at this than he thought she'd be.

"Oh no, Miss Silverrain," Armadine said, slowly turning on his heel. He approached the Queen as if his words were meant only for Kathlyn. "If that is truly what happened then I agree, you did act in defense. A woman must be allowed to defend herself from unwanted advances. Anyone with morals would agree to this. And yet..." Armadine whirled back towards Alia, advancing upon her again, his hands clasped behind his back. "That isn't what really happened, was it."

Alia blinked. "Of course it was."

"I rather doubt that, Miss Silverrain. In fact..." He snapped his fingers, and held out his hand. The older man in the brown clothing rose from the table, carrying a leather-bound folder. He passed the folder to Armadine and returned to his seat. Armadine withdrew a document. "I have here a signed affidavit from Lord Asterbury himself describing what really happened."

"Armadine," Kathlyn said, a hint of impatience creeping into her voice. "Lord Asterbury is not the one pressing these charges. What bearing does this have?"

"Oh, it has great bearing, Your Majesty," Armadine replied, his voice like a wolf slowly closing in on crippled prey. "You see, I must establish that I am far from Alia Silverrain's first victim. I intend to show a pattern of violence and disregard for the laws of Illandra that have plagued her behavior for years. A corrupted, wicked nature at the very heart of her character that will speak leagues about the punishment she should suffer. You...do think it is important for me to paint the entire picture of the woman who so brazenly, and horrifically assaulted me, don't you Your Majesty?"

Kathlyn drummed her fingers against the arm of her throne. For a moment she let silence hang in the air like a pall. "Very well, Armadine. You may proceed, and then it shall be the accused turn to paint her picture of you."

Armadine gave a gracious bow. "Of course Your Majesty. I'm sure she is fully prepared to slander my good name."

"Careful, Armadine," Kathlyn said, jabbing a finger towards the folder in his hand. "Just proceed with your case."

Armadine gave a little bow of respect to the Queen. How he could not wait to be rid of her. He waved the document about with a flourish of his fingers. "This report, written and signed by Lord Asterbury himself..." He flicked his eyes to Alia a moment. "My cousin." Then he turned and held the document out towards the throne. Bownen fetched it and walked it up the stairs to the Queen as Armadine continued. "Details what really happened between himself and Miss Silverrain. A mere servant girl at the time."

"I've already told you what..."

"You led him on," Armadine said, jabbing his finger in the air like a knife pointed at Alia's chest. "You teased him, you flirted with him, you flustered him, and you pulled him into that alcove because he was a man of great importance and you were but a lowly serving girl. You wanted him. Perhaps you even wanted to blackmail him. After all he is a man of great wealth with a wife and family, and you...well, it wasn't all that long ago you were whoring yourself out on the streets for a few extra coppers, was it?"

"That is nothing but lies, Armadine!" Alia shot back to her feet.

"_Lord_Armadine," he snapped back at her, his feigned fear long gone. "And it is not a lie. You were a whore, were you not? Before you were plucked from the filth and mire of the streets, and given a good life here in the castle? And look how you repay your betters. With violence. You were a whore, weren't you Miss Silverrain?"

"That is none of your concern, and..."

"Oh but it is!" Armadine slapped the folder down on Alia's table. "After all, who's word is the Queen to take? The word of a well-respected noble, a man with a wife and a child whom he is devoted to? Or some street whore with a history of violence and problems with authority? Why don't you tell the court about the scars on your back, Miss Silverrain?"

Alia tensed up. The old scars on her back burned when they were mentioned. "Those have nothing to do with..."

"You were whipped when you were young, weren't you? More than once." Armadine slowly gazed around at all the gathered people watching him. He was starting to enjoy himself. "Why don't you tell us why you were whipped?"

"You already seem to know the answers, so why bother to ask me?"

"A fair question." Armadine tapped his folder. "According to the reports I've had compiled, you assaulted a number of guards who attempted to stop a group of you from stealing from a..."

"For my friends," Alia said suddenly.

Armadine blinked. "What was that?"

"For my friends," Alia repeated herself. "I was whipped for my friends. We were teenagers at best. Struggling to keep ourselves fed, our families could barely scrape together a few coins to feed their children. So my friends and I, we did what we had to just to put food in our bellies. We stole. Sometimes coin, sometimes food, but it always went to our families. And yes, when my body came in, I whored myself out. There were always men who didn't care how old I was. Some of them were nobles, I'm sure that's no surprise to you." Armadine went red, his back stiffening, but Alia did not let him interject. "When we were caught, the guards were going to whip us all if no one confessed. So I did. The first time it was easy, only a few lashes. The next time it was worse, because he struck my friend even when he promised to only punish the ringleader. So I struck him back. So they tied me up in the alley, and made my friends watch while they whipped me even worse." Alia grit her teeth, and slowly shook her head. "I don't have a problem with authority, Armadine. I have a problem with cruelty."

Armadine growled as Alia sought to turn his argument against him. He slowly picked up his folder, knuckles white against his skin. "The point is, Miss Silverrain. You have a long history of violating the law, of physically striking authority, and of using your body to get whatever you want. Therefore, we can only assume you used your body to lure in poor Lord Asterbury in an attempt to seduce him, perhaps for blackmail purpose."

"That is the is the most idiotic thing you've said yet, Armadine," Alia snapped, settling herself back into her chair. "I didn't even know who the man was, aside from some foppish noble forcing me into a corner to try and have his way with me."

"And why would a noble be interested in a girl like you?" Armadine passed the folder back to Traval, who exchanged it for another. "He has wealth, power, he could have any woman he wanted. And yet you claim he..."

"Armadine," Kathlyn suddenly spoke up. Her voice was like an iron vice around the noble's throat, silencing him in an instant. "We've heard enough about Asterbury and Alia's alleged past. If Asterbury's story was true, I can only assume he would have brought his own charges before me. Therefore, given the fact that the man remained utterly silent until you seemingly contacted him to obtain this document, I must assume Alia to be telling the truth. Yes, Asterbury has a wife, but I think half the people gathered here today know that neither Lord Asterbury nor his wife have been faithful to each other for years. It is also well known that Asterbury has a weakness for wine that causes him to get carried away." She passed the document she'd been reading back to Bownen. "Consider this noted. Now. Have you anything more relevant to Alia's sentence or do you intend to simply drag her through the muck a little more for your own amusement?"

Armadine took a slow breath and held it. His body tensed, trembling with barely restrained anger. Damn that royal bitch. She was making it increasingly difficult for him to properly humiliate the woman who'd dared raise her hand to him. At this rate, he was going to have to take matters into his own hands after all. Perhaps that would be for the best. That way he could ensure Alia's punishment was as fitting as he wished it to be. Besides, with any luck he'd soon be rid of the Queen. Still, he wasn't done with Alia yet. Perhaps he could still make the old hag on the throne see reason. And if nothing else, the prince was in the audience, and he wanted his friend to hear what he had left to say.

"Of course, Your Majesty," Armadine said, bowing stiffly at the waist. "My apologies for getting side-tracked. I do have something far more relevant. It concerns the manner in which she has been conducting herself as Warden of The Dragon. And I think after hearing what I have to say, Your Majesty and those in attendance shall agree the most fitting sentence would be removing her from that position."

"I think such a sentence would greatly exceed the crime," replied the Queen, leveling her unreadable gaze at the nobleman.

"We shall see, Your Majesty." Armadine began to thumb through the second folder Traval had brought him. "I believe she has proven herself to be profoundly unfit to serve as Warden for The Dragon. I have numerous reports of sickening behavior conducted with The Dragon in private, and a witness ready to testify to their veracity."

Alia's breath caught. Her heart began to accelerate, thumping harder. Armadine couldn't know...could he? She thought they'd been careful. No one had known but those they allowed to know. Then again...would it matter? The Queen herself already knew, after all. And Armadine might not have known about Kathlyn and Krek. Alia took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Let him talk, then. She wasn't going to let him intimidate her, and she was tired of letting him run this show.

"To what manner of sickening behavior are you referring?" Alia spoke up, waving at Armadine. "You cannot be referring to my spotless record as The Dragon's Warden, nor can you be referring to the fact that for the first time since his capture The Dragon is on record as being completely passive and docile. Unless of course you consider doing my job better than any previous warden to be somehow sickening."

Armadine twisted back around towards Alia, lifting his voice to ensure that everyone heard it. "I am referring to the fact that you've become the dragon's whore. Or is it the other way around?"

"I have become no such thing, Armadine." Alia folded her arms beneath her breasts as if tired of Armadine's antics. "What else have you got?"

"Proof," Armadine hissed at her. "Witness accounts that you, Miss Silverrain, have engaged repeatedly in sexual acts with this dragon for nearly the entire time you have been the beast's warden." All around the court there were murmurs of discontent, sounds of disgust. Armadine paused a moment to let his words settle in, and then went on. "You have been witnessed grasping the dragon by the horns, and forcing him to..." Armadine made a face as though the very words themselves held a bitter, revolting taste. "...Pleasure you."

That was it then. Armadine's big play. It seemed he hoped to surprise Kathlyn with that knowledge, or perhaps just to sway the gathered nobles so completely against Alia that the Queen would feel obligated to remove Alia from the Warden's Office entirely on the basis that she was somehow forcing herself on her prisoner. Alia knew in that instant she had two choices. She could deny it, and let Armadine parade his witnesses and slander her name up and down the courts. Or, she could tell the truth. Either way the knowledge was going to be out there now, and she was going to have to deal with it.

Alia would not let Armadine dictate this any longer. Alia chose the truth.

"There is no force involved, Armadine." Alia tilted her head, watching him as coolly as she could.

Armadine stuttered a little. "W...what?"

"I don't force the dragon to do anything."

"So...you are admitting that you do in fact, have some sort of twisted sexual congress with this monstrous beast!"

"The dragon and I have become lovers, yes," Alia admitted, lifting her hand as if to silence the sudden outcry from many of those gathered. "But the dragon is no beast. He is a reasoning, thinking, speaking being just like you and I. If I were to have forced myself on him in some way, taken advantage of my position as his warden, yes, I would be the first to tell you that I should be immediately removed from office. Yet I assure you no such thing has taken place. Every act we have shared has been consensual."

Armadine glanced at Traval, who simply shrugged. One thing they had not expected was for Alia to simply admit to it, and attempt to explain it away as consensual. He grasped for retaliation, and found only insults. "You see? She is little more than a whore! Using her prisoner for her own pleasure. Using a monster for her satisfaction, it is disgusting! She is disgusting! Surely, she cannot be allowed to continue serving as this monster's warden when..."

"And why not?" Alia called out, leaning back in her chair with every bit of confidence she could muster. Let Armadine flounder. Let him insult her. Let him seem the petty one.

"Yes, Armadine," Kathlyn asked as well, leaning forward. "Why not?"

"Because..." Armadine threw his folder down against his table in frustration. "It is sickening to think of what they do!"

"Then do not think of it," Kathlyn snapped at him. "It is becoming increasingly clear to me that you are more interested in dragging Alia through as much fetid muck as you can find than you are in actually advocating for a punishment befitting the crime. Armadine, if you have arranged this trial and brought these charges against her simply because you've found out some little secret that doesn't sit well in your belly I shall be extremely cross."

"She should be thrown in a cell of her own!" Armadine snarled. "She's admitted before Queen and Court that she's having sex with animals, with monsters! That is against Illandran law and against Illandran morals! That is the sort of behavior they were known for in Aran'alia, before we brought them civility! That was the sort of thing they did to make their monsters fight on their behalf, was it not?"

"Armadine, sit down." Kathlyn's dark blue eyes flashed with growing anger.

"Your Majesty..."

"Sit down, or my guards will sit you down," Kathlyn growled. Several of the guards moved towards Armadine, who begrudgingly took his seat. Kathlyn eased back a little bit. "I will have no more of this slander, Armadine. You are making a mockery of my court with your personal vendettas. I sought to give you a chance to present your case and explain how you were undeservingly assaulted. Instead you have descended into insults and attempts to humiliate this woman that are totally unrelated to your claim. Whether or not she has had sex with this dragon has nothing to do with the fact she assaulted you, aside from perhaps strengthening her case."

"Her case?" Armadine nearly shouted, throwing his arms up in his chair. Traval put a hand on his shoulder to urge him to calm himself. "How on earth does that strengthen HER case?"

Kathlyn held a hand palm up as if offering it to Alia. "She claimed she and the dragon are in fact, lovers. Would anyone in this court not do anything in their power to protect their lover?" Kathlyn slowly peered around the room, meeting any set of eyes willing to match her gaze. "Set aside your personal feelings a moment, and consider that. Inappropriate as such a relationship may be, who could truly blame her for using force to defend her lover from torment? Any man or woman here who claims they would not do the same to protect their own lover is either a liar or a coward."

Kathlyn let that settle over the crowd. Some of them murmured to each other. Some of the nobles and others in attendance were nodding their heads in agreement. Others seemed unable to get over the very idea of a dragon and a woman becoming lovers. Kathlyn let the crowd digest things for a moment while Armadine fumed and Alia scribbled notes. When the burbling voices died off a little, Kathlyn held up her hand. The guards clapped their spears against the floor, and the sound silenced the Grand Hall.

"Let me be clear about one thing. Alia is not here to be charged with sexual crimes. She is not here because of anything she has done with this dragon. Nor would such a trial ever take place." Kathlyn made a sweeping arc with her arm, the golden sleeves of her dress swishing. "This is Illandra. It is a free land. There are no laws in Illandra against consensual sex of any sort. Yes, it may turn the bellies of some to think of a man with a man, or even a woman with a Koraa'gi. But would we toss a woman in jail for spending a night in a Koraa'gi's bed? Certainly not. They both speak, they both reason, they both consented. This dragon we keep in our dungeon. Yes, he is a prisoner, and no, it is not entirely appropriate for his warden to have a relationship with him. But neither is it against any law, and so long as it keeps him from causing my kingdom trouble, then so be it."

A little smile flickered across Kathlyn's lips. She let the audience consider that a moment, and then lifted a hand to shift the crown upon her head. Blasted thing was giving her a stiff neck. "Speaking of which, I believe it is time to let Alia Silverrain speak in her defense."

Armadine immediately protested. "I have no even gotten to speak of my injuries yet! Or how the assault was completely unprovoked!"

"Perhaps you should have started your case with that, instead," Kathlyn said. "I think I have given you more leeway than I should have already. But, pass the doctor's records here, I shall read them on your behalf." Kathlyn waited for Bownen to fetch the report, and then began to read from it. "Lord Armadine suffered the following injuries. Broken nose, resulting in permanent deformity of the structure. Split lips requiring multiple stitches. Several broken teeth requiring removal, another tooth lost in the assault. Bruising along ribcage and stomach." She glanced up at Armadine. "Does that about cover it?"

"More or less," the man muttered, sounding more and more like a petulant child who'd just had his favorite toy taken away.

"Oh," Kathlyn said, passing the report back to Bownen. "I almost left out bruised genitals. That sounds unpleasant."

Alia did what she could to hide her smirk. Armadine was just lucky she didn't take that whip and use it against him instead.

"Alia Silverrain," Kathlyn said. "You may rise and present a defense for your actions. As you claimed to be both retaliating for, and defending your prisoner against further violence, I should like to hear exactly how he was injured, and how grievous his injuries were."

"Certainly Your Majesty."

Armadine slapped his hand against the table. "It is already known that the dragon attacked me, and I defended myself against him. I see little reason to allow Alia to attempt to slander me..."

"And I saw little reason to allow you to slander her, and yet I did," the Queen snapped. "So now it is her turn to speak, and you shall sit there with your mouth shut or I shall have you gagged, Armadine." She beckoned Alia forward. "Alia, if you please."

Alia bowed her head, and took a deep breath. She steadied her heart and body, and rose to her feet. Now was the time they'd waited for. To tell everyone gathered here just what sort of monster Armadine really was. To show everyone how well spoken an Aran'alian could be. To prove to everyone what an exceptional job she'd done from the very first day. Just as Kathlyn wanted.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Alia said. "As I said before, I do not deny inflicting those injuries upon Lord Armadine. However, I did not do so with malice nor cruel intent. I did so only with the knowledge that Lord Armadine had already extensively tortured The Prisoner which I am responsible for. As well as the knowledge that Lord Armadine had returned solely to inflict more agony upon an already wounded creature."

"I was defending myself," Armadine hissed.

"Lord Armadine," Alia said, walking towards the table where he and Traval sat. She kept her voice level, her words polite and respectful. "I have weathered your many insults, and your many degradations, and I have done so with little complaint. You have had your turn to speak, and now I should like to have mine as Illandran law allows. Surely this is acceptable to you, given how you have repeatedly cited said law."

Armadine dragged his nails against his golden breeches, gritting his teeth. When everyone seemed to wait for him to reply, he finally growled through his teeth. "Of course, Miss Silverrain. My apologies."

"Thank you, Lord Armadine," Alia said, offering him a little bow. "Your apologies are accepted. Now, with that in mind, I can assure this court that Lord Armadine did not act in self defense. In fact I have witness testimony of my own to refer to." Alia turned towards Kathlyn. "If it pleases Your Majesty, I should like to call Guard Captain Enric to speak on my behalf."

Kathlyn nodded. "Summon Guard Captain Enric."

Alia kept her satisfaction hidden when the request sent Armadine and Traval into hushed whispers. Enric rose from his place in the seats, and made his way forward. Bownen fetched him a chair and set it between the two tables. Enric gave the Queen a bow, and then settled himself into the chair, nodding to Alia. Alia nodded back to him and got right to the point.

"Guard Captain Enric, please explain your duties at the time the dragon was injured."

Enric licked his lips a moment, folding his arms over his expansive chest. "My duties consisted of serving as the head of the guard force responsible for maintaining the security of the entrance to the Dragon's dungeon. I was also responsible for keeping tabs on you, Miss Silverrain. I was to report your successes and failures as Warden directly to the Queen. I was also responsible for the security of the Prisoner. By which I mean to ensure that not only did he not harm anyone, but he himself was not harmed. A job which I am sad to say I failed that day."

"Failed?" Alia tilted her head as though she did not know what he was talking about. "Please explain, Enric. We'll return to your other duties shortly."

"You had gone into town," Enric began. He shifted a little, rubbing his arm. "Lord Armadine came to the check point before the stairs leading to The Dragon. He was with a woman he fancied, and a whole group of his bodyguards."

"Were his bodyguards armed?"

"Yeah, but there was nothing unusual about that. Swords, knives, that sort of thing. Armadine of course had his whip. We've all seen him strutting around with that horrible thing. They demanded to be allowed to see The Dragon. Armadine wanted to show off for his woman, acting brave around a dragon. Wasn't the first time some idiot noble asked to go down there. Some of the previous Wardens told us to just run the nobles down there, let them have a look at the dragon, and take them back up the stairs. The dragon usually ignored them, and we were always there to prevent any trouble. You hadn't yet issued your orders to prevent such visits and I assumed, erroneously so, that Lord Armadine and his friends were just going to take a look at the dragon and come back up."

"But they did not, did they?"

"No, Ma'am." Enric set his jaw, casting Armadine a dark look. "They did not."

"Why did you let them down there in the first place?" Alia's question was as much for her own benefit as for that of the court.

"He's a noble," Enric said soft, a hint of guilt flickering in his eyes. He sighed under his breath, glancing down at his own hands. "He threw his rank around, told me I had to let him go down there. Brought up his friendship with the prince a few times. I believe he asked me if I'd rather let him see the dragon, or find myself guarding the shithouse by morning." Enric hesitated, grinding his teeth. "I still shouldn't have let him go."

"It's alright, Enric," Alia said, squeezing his shoulder. "You had no way of knowing they planned to torture the dragon."

Enric glanced over at Armadine again. "I should have known when he refused my attempt to accompany them. Told me his bodyguards would handle it, and that I should remain in my position."

Alia nodded, clapped Enric on the shoulder, and smiled to him a moment. "So you let them all into the Dungeon. And what did they do down there?"

Enric's voice was soft, yet pierced the air like an arrow. "They tortured The Prisoner for their own sick amusement."

Alia winced. She knew it was true, but she still didn't like hearing it. Armadine opened his mouth to protest, starting to rise from his chair, but Alia cut him off. "We have already heard Lord Armadine's claim that he was defending himself somehow. How do you know he is not telling the truth?"

"Because I conducted an investigation. First and foremost there was the grievous and unnecessarily painful nature of the dragon's wounds. As well as location of them upon his body, and the location of the blood splatters throughout the cell and the bottom of the stairwell. It was quite obvious that they had only the creature's pain in mind. I had deduced as much even before I was able to convince the dragon to give a truthful account of his abuse."

"And who are you to discern such things?" Armadine spat, waving his hand in the air. Traval put a hand on Armadine to caution him, but the noble continued anyway. "Just because you command a few guards here and there hardly makes you fit to conduct such investigations and make such pronouncements."

Enric twisted in his chair to glance back at the Queen. Kathlyn gave a subtle nod, permission for him to divulge a secret or two. "Actually, Armadine," Enric said, purposefully leaving off the man's title as he settled back down. "I am officially quite qualified. In my younger days I spent quite a few years heading up a team for Her Majesty's Investigative Service. Investigating crimes the public didn't need to know about, chasing spies, gathering intelligence and evidence. That sort of thing." Enric jerked his thumb towards the older man in the brown clothing at Armadine's side. "Much like your man Traval there, I trafficked in information as much as steel. I know how to get someone to tell the truth, and I know when someone is lying."

Armadine cursed under his breath. He was starting to feel as though this whole trial was a set up. Damn it, he was supposed to be the one setting people up. He balled his fists up at his sides. Traval squeezed his shoulder, a signal for him to remain silent. They'd take care of things later.

"So, you conducted an official investigation," Alia said, doing all she could to keep the smugness out of her voice. "And what did you determine?"

"That Lord Armadine and his cronies set an ambush for the dragon. Even if the dragon had refused to tell me what happened, it was clear to me that Armadine was lying about defending himself."

Alia walked to her table, picking up one of the folders. "How were you able to determine that?"

"By the nature of the dragon's injuries." Enric rose to his feet, and turned towards the Queen as he began to point out places on his body. He made sure the rest of the court could see it as well. "He was sliced open by swords here, and here..." Enric ran his fingers across his neck and shoulders as though they were knives dragged along his skin. "And here...and here. There was no reasoning for such wounds beyond the fact they simply wanted to see the dragon bleed. And that was not the worst of his injuries, either."

As Enric spoke, Alia pulled sketches from the folder. She'd had them done with Valyrym's permission and Enric's assistance. They were sketches of the dragon as she remembered him, bleeding everywhere, his body laid open, his nose split apart. One sketch simply showed the dragon's wounded body, another depicted him with his head and neck through the door, being hit by sword and whip.

Alia brought some of the sketches to Bownen to pass them to the Queen, then offered a few more to the guards to look over, before having them passed around the crowd. She'd paid very talented artists to draw up enough copies to pass around. "How did they accomplish this without the dragon fighting back?"

"Armadine went in alone, and worked the dragon into a fury. Made sure the dragon would want to make a point by chasing Armadine back out. The dragon's not a fool. He knew he couldn't actually harm Armadine without catching flaming hell for it. But he wanted to put a scare into him. So he chased him all the way back to the exit of the prison. What the dragon didn't know was that was Armadine's plan. There's a large set of double doors there with plenty of room on either side of them for people to lay in ambush. The dragon could fit his head and neck and part of his front legs through, but that's it. As soon as he pushed his head through, they attacked him. They cut him up everywhere they could reach him, just to make him bleed. They were already out of his range, they could have just gone back up the stairs. Instead, they laid into him with sword and knife..." Enric glared at Armadine. "And whip."

"Much like this drawing?" Alia held up the copy of the image depicting Valyrym's torture. In it, Armadine's whip was splitting the dragon's nose apart. The pain carefully rendered on Valyrym's face made Alia's throat clench. Blood sprayed from the wound, while other men were lashing blades against his neck and legs. "This sketch was commissioned to go alongside the report Enric filed to Your Majesty about the dragon's wounds. Is that correct, Enric?"

Enric nodded. "Yes, and the drawing appears to be very accurate."

"He was not wounded that badly," Armadine muttered despite Traval's attempts to keep him silent.

"Was he not?" Alia snapped, whirling on her heel. She strode towards Armadine and slammed the sketch down upon the table. "You nearly split his whole muzzle open! Do you deny that?"

"The beast had to learn his place!" Armadine folded his arms, glaring up at Alia. As did the Silverrain bitch. But that would come in time. "Regardless of what you may think, the monster chased me. I was certain he meant to devour me, and I was well within my rights to stop him."

"You were already at the stairs, he could not have harmed you then even if he wished it!" Alia jabbed a finger at Armadine's face. How she wished she could strike that smugness out of him once again. "Do you have any idea how much blood he lost? I had to sew his whole nose back together."

"I'm sure you're exaggerating," Armadine snorted. "Though, I'm also sure an Aran'alian servant girl has the sewing expertise to do a fine job with a dragon's nose."

"Exaggerating," Alia murmured, straightening up. She half wondered if Armadine was hoping to get her to slap him in front of everyone just so he could cry out about her history of violence again. "When I returned home that day, I followed a trail of blood that led across the entire prison. There were pools of it everywhere. Enric, how much blood did the dragon lose?"

"A lot," Enric said, his eyes fixed on Armadine. He'd like to wring that little brat's neck himself. "It splattered the walls where he was ambushed, and it coated the floor all across his prison. I do not know how much blood a dragon has to lose but he cannot have had much left."

Alia took a few steps away, turning around to face the Queen again. She trembled a little. Her heart fluttered at the memory of that terrible night. Her throat clenched, and she fought to do what she could to keep her voice from wavering too much. "When I found the dragon that night, when I followed that trail of blood, he was..." Alia grit her jaw and took a steadying breath. "He was curled in the little corner of his prison where he sleeps, with an old blanket clutched to his nose. The blanket was red, and wet, and it was not the first which he had soaked. He was desperate to stop the flow, and yet he could not. And he was..." Alia blinked away a few tears, and took a deep breath. "He was crying, though he tried to hide it from me. From the humiliation as much as the pain. Because whatever he might have done in the past, he knew he'd done nothing to deserve that. The dragon did not deserve to be some cruel noble's plaything, made to bleed and scream just for being a dragon. And yet that is exactly what happened."

"I concur," Enric said softly.

"Your Majesty," Alia said, letting her emerald gaze meet the Queen's deep blue eyes. "You were brave enough recently to pay a visit to the dragon yourself. With your permission, may I question you about your visit, for the official record?"

Kathlyn gave a little nod, her own voice still steely and even despite the turmoil that roiled around inside her heart. "You may, Alia Silverrain."

"Did you see the dragon's recent scars?"

"I did."

Alia turned towards Armadine, anger and hatred pouring from her eyes like boiling flames. If only they could consume that wretched man. "Would Your Majesty please describe them?"

Kathlyn set her jaw, her eyes narrowed. "They are wretched looking things that speak of torture, not punishment. And they certainly do not speak of defense. The scar upon the dragon's nose in particular. To this day it is angry and pink, and it looks as though the beast's nostrils remain held together by a thin margin of scar tissue and little more. It is a cruel wound that surely caused unendurable pain."

Alia nodded in agreement, wringing her hands together a little. "Did Your Majesty find the dragon to be at all aggressive? Threatening?"

Kathlyn shook her head, and answered honestly. "Only in a defensive manner. My guards frightened him, and I cannot blame the beast for that. For longer than I have been Queen, he has known only punishment and torment from those that bring weapons into his prison. In truth, I found the old creature quite pitiable." Kathlyn's regal veneer fell away for a moment as she gazed around the room. Her deep blue eyes shone like sapphire stars, though the pained sympathy that burned in them lasted only moments before her unreadable royal mask returned. "He seems little more than a lonely, sorrowful old man locked in the armor of a dragon. The powerful, dangerous beast he once was has withered away like an old soldier left to plead for scraps in some alley. Though I daresay Alia Silverrain's warden-ship has no doubt helped his health immensely. Whatever he is...he does not deserve torture."

Alia gave a slow nod, a few more tears brimming in her own eyes. She hadn't known how exactly how Kathlyn saw the dragon until now. "Enric...Enric earlier mentioned other duties. One of those duties is keeping tabs on the dragon's behavior, correct?"

Kathlyn nodded. A smirk crossed her lips for a moment. "That is correct. And I also have him keeping tabs on you."

Alia smiled at the Queen, gesturing with a hand towards the crowd. "And would you care to make those reports public?"

"Certainly." The Queen's voice was sharp, holding only the faintest hint of smugness. "Since you took the Warden's office, Alia, every single report I have gotten has indicated that the dragon has shown no signs of aggression nor hostility. Nor has he caused any sort of trouble for anyone. In fact, reports indicate that this is the most docile, placid, and well behaved The Prisoner has been since the moment of his capture. When Enric gave me his report upon the dragon's injuries, it was highlighted in that report that he saw very little possibility that the dragon had attacked anyone, least of all Lord Armadine. Would you also care to know how these reports reflect upon you, Alia Silverrain?"

Alia knew the answer already, and she was happy to have a chance to make that knowledge public. She gave a little bow, and smiled. "If it pleases Your Majesty, I should be happy to hear it. Especially if it has bearing upon the sentence Your Majesty may pass upon me."

"It does," the Queen said with a little chuckle. She waggled her fingers, sending Bownen scurrying to pick up a small stack of reports from Alia's table. While she waited, Kathlyn rubbed the back of her neck, tilting her head back and forth a little. Stupid crown always gave her a stiff neck. When Bownen returned, she took the papers from him. "Thank you, Bownen."

"Those are the reports reflecting my job performance, are they not?" Alia scanned the crowd a moment, wanting to make sure everyone knew what the Queen was reading from.

"They are," Kathlyn confirmed. "For the sake of brevity I shall simply read a few of the phrases and passages I've already highlighted for my own records. It says here that from day one, you have demonstrated an exceptional amount of courage, bravery and kindness, shown The Prisoner nothing but respectful and fair treatment, engaged him creatively in order to earn his admittedly grudging respect, and that you have demonstrated a truly remarkable ability to soothe, guide and control The Prisoner whenever necessary." Kathlyn tapped the parchment against her palm. "It goes on to say that never before has The Prisoner been this peaceful or easy to deal with, and never before has he gone so long without one single reported incident of any kind." She flicked her eyes to Armadine. "His own abuse notwithstanding."

Alia smiled to herself. "And if I may ask, Your Majesty. What conclusion does that lead you to?"

The Queen gave a little snort of amusement. If she was in Alia's place, she'd have asked the same thing. Well, might as well pay the girl her compliment where it was due. "That you are quite simply the greatest and most competent Dragon's Warden we have ever had." She sat up a little straighter in her throne, giving that a moment to sink in. That surprised even Alia, and brought flush to her olive toned cheeks. The Queen slowly gazed from one side of the Grand Hall to the other, meeting any set of eyes that dared accept her gaze. "That is the most important thing to remember. Regardless of what Alia Silverrain and the dragon do consensually in private, and regardless of how distasteful you may find that, she was given this position because it was believed she would perform spectacularly. And she has. She has accomplished what no other Warden ever could. She has, for all intents and purposes, effectively tamed the Dragon. I daresay she's damn near rehabilitated the old beast. Beyond even that, she has shown an ability to balance the budget she is granted with the needs of her office in ways many of the previous Wardens never quite grasped. Despite the fact Alia herself has hired assistants of her own, she has actually managed to cut the budget needed to house and feed The Prisoner by noticeable increments. In short, she's not only made the dragon a safer prisoner, but she's made him a cheaper prisoner. She is, and this bears repeating, the best Warden we have ever had."

Alia tried to turn away from everyone to hide the fact she was beaming with both pride and embarrassment. She wasn't sure she'd ever had so much praise heaped upon her before. From the way the crowds behind her were murmuring, it seemed as though the compliments were taking a lot of the nobles and wealthy families by surprise. Perhaps they hadn't realized just how good a job she was actually doing. Then again, why would they have known? Alia herself hadn't realized how well she'd worked her budget either. She'd just stubbornly negotiated with all the various butchers and other providers of food and supplies until they were willing to cut her a better deal. When they weren't willing to renegotiate their prices she found someone who would. It seemed like common sense to her, knowledge and experience gleaned from a lifetime of stealing food and saving every coin. At times she'd even used her own pay to secure what she needed or help pay her assistant's wages.

Finally, Alia managed to collect herself. She gave a deep bow to the Queen. "Thank you for your gracious words, Your Majesty. I am simply doing the best job I can."

"You certainly are, Alia Silverrain," The Queen said. "As are all your friends and assistants, according to my other reports." She thumbed through a few papers, then scanned a heavily inscribed section of parchment, grinning. "I have one here from Servant Master Kesh, lamenting the fact that you hired away two of his hardest working staff members, yet at the same time recognizing that they would surely do an exceptional job for you. Another report here from Enric, and others from further sources all indicating that the group of Aran'alians and...an Urd'thin..." The Queen smirked to herself, ignoring the sounds of distaste from the crowd. She lifted her voice above them. "...Are in fact working harder and accomplishing far more than any number of previous Illandran Wardens and workers ever did. Well done, Alia."

Alia smiled and bowed a second time. She was more than happy to give the Queen a chance to start proving her point to those who would otherwise stand in her way. Let them see that the Aran'alians were capable and hard working. Let them see they could lead. Though Alia continued to face the Queen rather than the crowd, from the whispered voices and muttered words behind her, it sounded as though they were rather evenly divided. Half of them seemed shocked that Aran'alians could accomplish such things. In some cases they seemed in open disbelief. Yet the other half of them seemed glad to hear it, or pleasantly surprised. That was good. Perhaps the Queen had more backing than she realized.

"Thank you again, Your Majesty." Alia straightened up and cleared her throat. "If I may ask, how does this reflect upon my assertion that when I struck down Lord Armadine, I was in fact doing so in defense of The Prisoner?"

"I should think it strongly supports that assertion," The Queen said sharply. "Given that the reports indicate you believe that regardless of a prisoner's crime, once he is in fact, a prisoner, his well being is the responsibility of his Warden and those in charge of him."

"Absolutely." Alia slowly turned towards Armadine, staring him down. The noble tossed his head, folding his arms over his chest. "It was clear to me he had come to assault the dragon again, and I had to stop him. Admittedly I went too far, but the dragon's wounds were still fresh, and so was my anger. I struck him first in defense of the dragon. Then, when he drew his whip, I feared he might strike me with it before he went to strike the dragon. So I put him down to protect the both of us. Captain Enric was witness to the event."

"And what did you see, Captain Enric?" The Queen leaned forward in her chair, listening intently.

"Just as Alia says it was." Enric nodded, stroking his chin a moment. "I'd been watching Lord Armadine for a little while actually. He was stalking the end of the hall, peering around the corner. He was alone this time, but it seemed clear to me he was looking to get another chance to hurt the dragon."

"And what made that so clear?" The Queen tilted her head, pushing her crown up when it began to slide just a little.

"Because every time he saw me, he vanished. Then a little while later, he'd show up again, skulking around until he spotted me. Then he was gone again." Enric smirked, cracking his knuckles. "If he'd come much closer I probably woulda broken his nose before Alia did. Noble or not, I got no use for people who take pleasure in tormenting a helpless creature."

"He was hardly a helpless..." Armadine began before Traval squeezed his arm tightly enough to make the noble wince.

Armadine glared at his bodyguard and adviser, rubbing his arm. But he went silent. Traval was right. They may as well just let everything play out now. After a moment Armadine settled back in his chair. His gambit had blown up in his face. That was alright, though. He had another plan in mind for Alia Silverrain. And as long as things went as expected, it would not be long before he had the ear of the new King, anyway.

When Armadine did not continue, Enric did. "Alia came up the stairs, and when I pointed out Armadine, she went to confront him. Next thing I know, he was trying to draw his whip and she was punching him in the nose. Not really sure which happened first." It was a distortion Enric was happy to make on Alia's behalf. "But he did draw his whip, and he was gonna use it on her. In my estimation, Alia was acting on behalf of the defense of her prisoner, and herself." Enric turned in his chair to glance up at the Queen. "Let's not delude ourselves, Your Majesty. What Alia did was illegal by the letter of the law, but no less deserved. It's no secret that Armadine's known for cruelty. If Your Majesty wishes, I have evidence to submit."

"Evidence?" The Queen perked her brow. "What manner of evidence?"

"When Lord Armadine drew his whip, Alia cut it apart with her knife." Enric beckoned to Bownen to fetch the evidence he had set aside. "I took a piece of it to serve as evidence of his assault on the dragon." When Armadine stuttered under his breath, Enric smirked at him. "What, you didn't think I took that as a trophy, did you? I told you, I spent years in Illandra's intelligence field. I know evidence when I see it."

Bownen brought over a small wooden box, and passed it to Enric. Enric thanked him and took the box. He stood up, and held the box with one hand, opening it with the other. Then he reached inside and withdrew the end of the long braided leather whip. Woven into it were wicked looking jagged metal shards. Enric held it up so that everyone could get a look at it, then handed it to Bownen to present to the Queen. The servant quickly ascended the stairs and passed it to her.

As Kathlyn looked the thing over, her face twisting in disgust, Enric explained it. "As you can see, Your Majesty, the whip has sharp metal fragments woven directly into it. Now, your normal whip is more than enough to cut flesh, and even break bone if used correctly. As for why anyone would then put metal into a whip? Pain. Cruelty. To leave a far worse wound. Or..." Enric folded his arms behind his back, turning towards the crowd again. "In battle with an armored foe. Or say, a creature with natural armor all across its body. As you know, Lord Armadine's lineage rules over the Twenty Fourth province. That is, the land once known as Aran'alia. The same land where The Prisoner once lived, before his capture. Lord Armadine makes frequent visits to the Twenty Fourth province, and is in fact in control of quite a few business holdings out there. He also controls much of his family fortune, as well as...other elements."

Kathlyn handed the whip back to Bownen. "Take that to the audience, and have it passed around. I should very much like everyone to see just what manner of implement Lord Armadine enjoys using to strike someone held in captivity. Make sure my son sees it, as well." She glanced at the Prince, who stared back at her a moment and then looked away as if unsure if he was more ashamed of his friend's behavior, or his mother's attempts to get him to acknowledge it. Then Kathlyn leaned back in her chair. "Go on, Enric. You were saying?"

Enric gave a stiff nod. "Simply that there are still a few dragons in the Twenty Fourth province, as well as the Twenty Third, Twenty Second, Twenty Fifth, and so on. Hell, we've seen them closer than that in recent years. The point is, in the Twenty Fourth province they make that sort of whip specifically for dragons. Now, it may well have been years since they've actually caught one, but we know they still harass our trade and supply caravans from time to time. Armadine has whips like that because they are designed specifically to inflict injury upon a dragon. I suspect Armadine bought it for himself, or perhaps got it as a gift, and wanted to try it out on a real, live dragon. It's only a theory..." By now, the whip was being passed around amongst those in the audience. Even those who were clearly disgusted by Alia's behavior with Valyrym could not help making faces as they got a first hand look at the wicked implement used to torture the beast. "But I shall leave it to you to decide what kind of man would use such a thing on a creature not in battle, and not in punishment. But simply for sport."

Enric settled back in his chair and folded his arms.

Abruptly, Armadine spoke up. "Are we about done here? I feel as though I've been beaten enough in this ambush as it is."

Traval heaved a sigh, but Armadine ignored it.

"Ambush?" Kathlyn turned her attention towards Lord Armadine. "My dear Nobleman, it was you who called for this trial in the first place. It was you who asked that Alia be called before this court to answer for her assault upon you. And it was you who came with stacks of documents and witnesses ready to be called to testify to the nature of her relationship with the dragon. Witnesses who had no bearing on the actual crime itself, and served only as means to humiliate a woman who has done nothing more than her very job to the best of her ability. If anyone was ambushed, I believe it was Alia Silverrain. You cannot expect to call her here simply to besmirch her in front of everyone, and then express disbelief when she uses your own tactics against you."

"Are you going to punish her or not?" Armadine slapped his hand upon the table, rattling the stacks of papers. "The law is very clear. Regardless of what you think of me, Your Majesty..." Armadine spat the title out like a mouthful of rotten food. "The law says she has committed a serious crime. And surely, while you may not hold my title in high regard, you do hold the laws of your kingdom in such? Do you not? Or will you use your authority to disregard those laws much as you disregard the disgusting things Alia does with this dragon?" Armadine glared at the Queen, slowly easing back into his chair. "Perhaps because of your own...shall we say, affections for a certain beast with black feathers?"

Kathlyn's face twitched slightly yet she otherwise showed no reaction to the accusations. "You're striding dangerous ground, Armadine."

"My apologies, Your Majesty. I'm sure that your haste in sweeping Alia's carnal desires for this beast has nothing to do with your winged assassin. Now, about the Laws of Illandra. Will they be upheld or not?"

The Queen might not be in a position to show any real emotion, but Alia could not help balling up her fists on the Queen's behalf. It took everything she had not to walk over and punch Armadine right in his broken nose a few more times. He had no right to insinuate such things about the Queen, let alone in front of everyone. Still, Alia knew the Queen was taking the right path. Given the discontented way half the crowd was murmuring, it seemed quite a few of them thought Armadine had overstepped his boundaries as well. It also sounded as though most of them felt his accusations were baseless. Which would have made Alia smile if she weren't so angry at the noble. To think, of all the people in the Kingdom, she and Valyrym actually knew more about the Queen and her gryphon friend than almost anyone.

"Of course they will be upheld, Armadine," the Queen said, her voice a cold steel blade that threatened to cut both Armadine and Alia too deeply in her hidden anger. "But first a point I should like to make very clear to you. As Queen of this land, when you slander me, you slander my very country. And while I consider myself a fair monarch who is willing to let her subjects speak their minds, I have my limits. If you insult my country and my honor in my own court again? If you make another thinly-veiled accusation of indecency between myself and the gryphon, or anyone else for that matter, I shall have you tossed in the dungeon." She leaned forward, glowering at Armadine. A knife could not have cut him as deeply as the Queen's blue eyes did in that moment. "The _Dragon's_dungeon. You shall be begging the Warden to keep you safe. Is that clear?"

Armadine sunk lower in his chair, the color drained from his face. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"Good." Kathlyn glared at him a moment longer, then turned her attention to Alia. "Miss Silverrain."

The sharpness of the Queen's voice yanked Alia from her thoughts. She twisted upon her heel to stand at attention before the Queen. "Your Majesty."

"Let me state first that I think you were in the right for defending your Prisoner. Let me also state..." The Queen spoke through grit teeth for a moment, glaring at Armadine. "That under no circumstances did your dragon deserve what befell him." Then she turned her attention back to Alia, and gave a little sigh. "But the law is clear, and as you have admitted to the act all along, I must issue punishment against you for assaulting a nobleman."

Alia gave a small nod. "I understand, Your Majesty. I will accept whatever punishment you feel is just."

"Under the circumstances..." The Queen pursed her lips, looking around the room a moment. "A punishment I feel is just is hardly feasible. Under normal circumstances, the law might call from you to be permanently removed from your position, and jailed for a period of several months."

Alia tensed up. She would accept time in the dungeon, but being permanently removed from the position was...

The Queen did not give her time to think about it. "Yet given your spotless record, removing you from the position of Warden would be far more detriment than benefit. And given the circumstances surrounding your crime, I do not feel your deserve a single moment in a cell. Therefore I feel compelled to make a compromise between what is called for by law, and what I feel in my heart. It seems the fairest thing I can do in terms of balancing existing laws, and issuing fair judgment." Kathlyn rubbed her forehead, sighing to herself. She did not want to do this, yet she had little choice. A Queen's duty was not to flaunt the law on behalf of friendship. Such was a path to corruption. "Alia, you shall be banished from this castle, and from the Dragon, for a period of three months. You shall receive enough pay to house yourself in the city until such time as your banishment is lifted. As such, you will advocate your position as Dragon's Warden for the same period of three months. After which you shall be re-instated to the position at full pay, completely and permanently."

Alia's heart dropped into her belly. Her hands and feet went cold in an instant, and her stomach twisted. Three months? She thought the Queen was going to be lenient. For a moment, she felt anger rising in her, but it was quickly quelled by both common sense and fear. Alia realized the Queen was being lenient. She was being given three months in a house in the city, rather than three months in dungeon cell. To deviate any further from written law would make her a poor monarch.

"I understand, Your Majesty," Alia said, her voice more a throaty whisper than she would have liked.

"That is hardly fitting..." Armadine started.

The Queen cut him off. "Armadine, one single word from you before I have left this Hall, and I shall allow Alia to strike you again. You should consider yourself exceptionally lucky that Alia herself was the one to punish you, rather than bringing you before me. Had you been the one on trial here, for torturing the dragon? You would be begging me for a less fitting judgment."

Armadine scowled, but folded his arms and went silent.

Alia wished she could have smiled at that. Yet she was suddenly filled with cold fear. It was not fear on her behalf, but rather fear on Valyrym's behalf. They had already discussed the possibilities that this trial might lead to, and Valyrym had never taken well to the idea of going without Alia. Nor did he want a temporary Warden in her absence.

In the days between Kathlyn's visit and the trial, Alia had done all she could to reassure the dragon that things would be alright for him. She'd promised him Kathlyn would not take her away, at least not for long. Yet three months suddenly seemed like a nearly unendurable length of time to go without seeing each other. More than anything else, Alia was worried for Valyrym's mental state. While she did not really think it would deteriorate, she did not know how the old beast was going to handle such a time without her. She'd have to make sure her friends were there for him whenever he needed them.

"Your Majesty," Alia said, lifting her eyes to the Queen. She blinked away a stray tear, trying to focus herself. "May I request a temporary stay upon my banishment, under the terms that I must prepare The Prisoner for my absence?"

Kathlyn allowed herself a little smile. "You've no need to request such a thing, Alia. Given that your Warden-Ship seems solely responsible for the dragon's good behavior, it would hardly be wise to remove you abruptly. Your punishment will begin one week from tomorrow. I hope that will be enough time for you to prepare the dragon to deal with your absence. I understand you shall also need to put all your affairs in order so that everything goes smoothly while you are away. This is punishment for your assault, but I do not wish it to cause trouble for the Warden's office, the guards, or any other part of my castle."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Alia gave a curt bow, trying to hold her voice together. "That should be enough time. Also, may I respectfully request to appoint my own replacement warden?"

"Temporary replacement," Kathlyn reminded her, as if hoping to cheer Alia up a little. "And yes, you may. You are the most knowledgeable person to make such a choice after all. Is there anything else?"

Alia swallowed hard, shaking her head. "No...No, Your Majesty."

Kathlyn slowly stood up. "Then I shall consider this matter resolved, and your punishment rendered and set to begin in one week. You are dismissed, Alia Silverrain."

Alia gave the Queen a formal bow, dropping to one knee for a moment. She rose, and Bownen led her back out of the courtroom. This time she met no one's eyes, but it was not out of shame or sheepishness. She blinked away a few tears, her heart still fluttering. Already her thoughts were on Valyrym. She had to go see him right away. How was she going to tell him? How would she soothe his anger, his fear? She'd have to make it clear to him that he simply must behave while she was gone.

Somehow, she had to tell Valyrym that he was going to lose her for a while.

---

Chapter Three

---

Valyrym paced. The old black dragon strode up and down his prison, hissing to himself. He limped a little, the pink scar upon his hind leg throbbed yet he scarcely noticed it. From time to time he lashed his tail, clattering the spines that tipped it against the cold stone floor. Fire danced in his golden eyes each time he passed by one of the lanterns hanging from the curved, wrought-iron fixtures recently installed.

Dread and fury roiled together in the dragon's belly. Each took turns climbing his spine to settle inside his mind.. When fury next rose to the forefront, the dragon snarled. He unsheathed his claws and hoisted a front paw in the air, about to strike at one of the many pillars that ran the length of the prison. When he saw the carving of the apple tree on the front of it, he sighed, and slowly set his paw down.

"And she still hasn't brought me my damn painting!" Valyrym said, turning his wedge-shaped head to glare at Kaylen as though it were all her fault.

"I know, I know," Kaylen said softly, trying to soothe the dragon. Despite his anger and his current proclivity to strike things, the somewhat plump young woman showed no fear at all. Instead Kaylen simply reached out and rubbed his nose around the scar that was ever so slowly fading. "I'm sure everything will be fine."

"Well aren't you the helpful optimist," Valyrym said, snorting. He began to pace again, and Kaylen followed at his side. "Why are you following me?"

"Because if Alia comes down here and finds that you've ruined your carvings in anger, she'll fire me." Kaylen giggled a little, the lilac and gold dress she wore swishing around her as she walked. "And if you injure yourself by striking stone in anger, I'm going to fire myself out of guilt."

"What she's trying to say is that, she's taken it upon herself to keep you as calm as possible while Alia is at the hearing." Thomas walked at the other side of the dragon, keeping a little more distance than Kaylen. "As we're all trying to do. It was just assumed that Kaylen is probably the only one you actually want touching you right now."

Valyrym murmured under his breath, then tossed his head, flaring his spines. "Aren't you all thoughtful."

"We have our moments," Thomas said with a little smile. "I think Kaylen is right, though. Whatever the Queen decides, it will be alright in the end. Didn't she already say they were going to let Alia keep the job no matter what?"

"They may have lied," the dragon murmured, coming to a stop when he reached the end of his prison. He started to turn around, then glanced at Thomas. "Mind the tail." Then he swung himself around, and began to pace back the other way. "Do you honestly think they'll let her get away with it?"

Thomas appreciated the fact the dragon actually warned him about his tail this time. Used to be, he'd just try and knock over anyone he could when he turned around. "That would depend on how you defined getting away with it."

Valyrym growled under his breath, flaring a gray-edged ebon wing to buffet Thomas a little. "Meaning?"

"Meaning, according to Alia, the Queen already said she'd have to punish her and would be as lenient as possible." Thomas gave the wing a little shove, and Valyrym tucked it back to his body.

Valyrym flared his central spines, hissing again. "That could mean anything." He glanced around as he strode across the prison. "Where did Vatch go?"

Kaylen giggled, pointing towards the far area, near the tub and some of the barrels of silver water and rum. "He's waiting down there. You're walking awfully fast for him."

"I am not," the dragon muttered.

"You are," Kaylen said, grinning. "You've half winded me, and poor Thomas over there can scarcely keep up with you."

"Speak for yourself, Madam Huff And Puff," Thomas said, glaring at her around the dragon.

"I've no idea what that means, Thomas," Kaylen said, rolling her eyes. "The point is, poor little Vatchy Pup didn't want to get trod upon by the big, grumpy dragon."

"I am not grumpy," Valyrym said with a snap of his jaws. "I am concerned. There is an important difference."

"Yes, I know," Kaylen said, softening her tone. She put her hand on the dragon's neck the same way she'd seen Alia do so often. "Take a few deep breaths. Why don't you go and read with Vatch a little more?"

"I am tired of taking deep breaths. I do not need more air, I need more Alia." That made Kaylen giggle. Valyrym hadn't really meant to phrase it that way, but a little smile crept over the pebbly, gray-tinged scales of his muzzle anyway. "Besides that, I cannot read right now. I tried and I could not focus. How long is this trial to take?"

Thomas crossed in front of the dragon. The young, black haired man was in his usual semi-formal looking clothing. A stiffly sleeved gray tunic with silver threading and black buttons up the front, along with a black pair of trousers with gray diamonds down the side. He clambered up one of the dragon's ledges, and then another until he could peer through the barred opening of an air vent. "It's well into mid afternoon, so she ought to be back soon."

"Unless they've tossed her in the dungeon already," Valyrym muttered. "I need a drink."

"I don't think that's really..."

Valyrym cut Thomas off, calling out across the prison. "Vatch! Rum! Now!"

"Vatch not think..." Vatch's protest got as far as Thomas' did.

"I said rum, Vatch! Rum, now!" Valyrym glared at the furred creature across the prison. "Or no story time for a week!"

"EEP!" Vatch gave a squeaking yelp at the idea of going without his favorite dragon-based activity.

The chocolate brown furred Urd'thin snatched up the dragon's drinking bowl. He climbed atop the small wooden crate he'd set near the barrels so that he could reach inside them more easily, and scooped up a bowlful of rum for the dragon. Then holding the drinking vessel in both hands, Vatch carefully made his way to where the dragon was waiting. Along the way he did his best not to let the rum slosh out onto the floor, or onto his dark green shirt. It was one of his favorite garments, Kaylen herself had helped tailor it for him with Paulson's instruction. Short sleeves, a rich forest green color with oak leaves embroidered upon the chest in a soft golden hue to match the Warden emblems on the shoulders.

Vatch scrunched his canine-like muzzle, and flattened his oversized brown furred ears back against his head as he offered the dragon the bowl. "Here is rum. But Vatch think is bad idea for dragon to get drunk at time like this."

"I'm not getting drunk," Valyrym muttered, lowering his head to lap directly from the bowl while Vatch held it.

"Hey!" Vatch yipped, stepping back and pulling the bowl away. "Vatch is not table! You take bowl now."

Valyrym growled, narrowing his golden eyes. "A lot of use you are." He dropped back onto his haunches with a sigh, and took the bowl from Vatch. Much as he wanted to make a show of angrily snatching it away, he didn't want to spill any of the rum.

"Doesn't that burn your tongue?" Kaylen asked with a grin as the dragon returned to lapping at the rum.

"Not when the rum is this good," Valyrym replied, licking a few droplets from his snout. Then he glanced back at Vatch, relenting a little. "Thank you, Vatch."

"You welcome," Vatch said, patting the dragon's foreleg. Then he bared his fangs playfully at Kaylen. "And Vatch not pup. I hear you say this."

Kaylen tweaked one of the Urd'thin's ears. "I can't say I'm surprised. With ears like this, I should imagine you can hear my relatives in Aran'alia." Kaylen laughed as Vatch flailed at her hands. It always seemed to drive the furry little creature mad when she toyed with his ears. "But you'll always be Little Vatchy Pup to me."

"Let go of ears, Crazy Lady!" Vatch batted at her hands again, but grinned at her just the same.

"You two are a mess," Thomas said, shaking his head.

"You're all idiots," Valyrym muttered under his breath, glancing at the three of them. Yet a current of affection swirled beneath the waves of anger and worry that had roiled in his words all day. "I don't know what Alia sees in any of you, and I certainly don't know why she lets you all down here."

"Someone has to keep an eye on the big cranky dragon when she's away," Kaylen said. She stretched a little to rub the dragon's wing joint where it met his shoulder.

"And she lets Vatch down here because he's good at stealing things," Thomas said, reaching out to ruffle up Vatch's fur between his ears. Vatch yipped but didn't protest half as much as he did when Kaylen made the same gesture. "Alia's planning to have him abscond with all your stuffed dragons, you see."

"My stuffed family?" Valyrym gasped in mock horror. "I shall eat the both of them if they try."

"Aww, coming to love them are you?" Kaylen smirked, putting her hands on her hips. "That's so adorable."

"Hardly." Valyrym tossed his head. "I'd simply be out of projectiles to hurl at visitors."

"It's alright, Val," Thomas said with a laugh. "We'll make sure they leave you Val Junior to cuddle, at least."

Valyrym lowered his eye ridges, tail tip twitching. "They'd damn well better. He makes better company than the rest of you put together."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Kaylen poked the dragon in the ribs, grinning.

"He knows when to shut up."

"I suppose that is one virtue I lack," Kaylen giggled.

Thomas smirked at her, idly rolling up his sleeves a little. "You say that as though you've a single virtue to your name to begin with."

"Hey!" Kaylen laughed, and stuck her tongue out at Thomas. "If I wasn't so busy comforting poor Valyrym here, I'd have half a mind to chase you around the prison."

"That'd be half a mind more than you've usually got."

Kaylen playfully glared at her friend. "You're getting dangerously close to developing a wit, Thomas. I think you're spending too much time around the dragon." Then she darted over and grabbed Vatch around the middle. The Urd'thin squeaked and struggled, and Kaylen giggled. "Here, Valyrym. If they take your plush toys you can still have Vatch to cuddle with."

"Vatch not stuffed toy!" Vatch laughed, squirming against Kaylen's grasp. He tried to duck down out of her arms, but she held him fast. "You let go now!"

"A fair trade," Valyrym murmured. "Vatch is softer and fluffier, after all."

"Vatch not fluffy," the Urd'thin protested. "Females fluffy! Pups Fluffy! Vatch not fluffy."

"Vatch very much fluffy," Kaylen said, laughing as she let him go. Vatch ran a few steps away from her, then paused to try and flatten down some of his fur. Kaylen smirked. "And look at Vatch now. Grooming his fluff like a little kitten."

Vatch glared at Kaylen a moment, then huffed. "You get mounted now."

Valyrym burst out laughing both at the expression the Urd'thin had picked up from him, and at the startled expression it garnered from the two humans. "That's telling her Vatch."

Vatch grinned at the dragon, straightening out his tunic. "You feel better now after rum, Dragon?"

"A little." Valyrym looked down at his paws. He unsheathed his claws, and idly began to trace little patterns in the stone floor. A series of curved lines, almost like a chain. Then he traced a diamond around them. The scratch lines were very faint, and with a sigh, he swept his paw pad across them as if to wipe them away. Without looking up at anyone, he softly said, "I'm glad you're all here."

That made everyone smile. Valyrym did not object when they pressed in around him to stroke his scales or hug him best they could. He did not return the gestures, but a dragon had to draw the line somewhere. After a few moments, he shook himself, rattling his scales and sending them moving back. "Alright, alright, that's enough. ...Who wants to get me some food?"

That made Thomas laugh. "Isn't that just like a dragon. Furious one moment, starving the next, and emotional in between."

"Yes, yes," Valyrym said, waving his paw. "We're a scaly shell stuffed with confusion. Now fetch me some lunch before I have to eat Vatch."

"Vatch stringy," the Urd'thin casually pointed out, the same way he always did when the dragon just as casually threatened to eat him.

"Which is why I don't wish to have to resort to devouring you." Valyrym licked his muzzle, glancing back at Thomas and Kaylen. "But I haven't eaten anything but rum since breakfast."

"Technically you drank the rum," Thomas pointed out.

Valyrym narrowed his eyes at him. "Food. Now."

"Yes, My Lord and Master," Thomas said with an overly stiff bow. He smiled as he straightened. "I'll see what I can get you."

Thomas trotted off, leaving the dragon with Kaylen and Vatch for a little while. Valyrym was pleasantly surprised by the haste with which Thomas returned. As he re-entered the dungeon, he was flanked by a couple of servants each bearing a tray laden with thickly sliced, lightly roasted meats. The servants nervously approached the dragon, but Valyrym didn't have it in him to frighten them. Instead, he just dropped his head and sniffed at the platters after they set them down and retreated.

"You're in luck, Valyrym," Thomas said, grinning. "They were just slicing roasted elk in the kitchen when I went to see what was available. It's probably for all the idiot nobles in the castle, and I'm sure I'm not supposed to be helping myself. But I thought, what would Alia do? And I realized she'd take all the choicest bits and bring them straight to you. So, that's just what I did. If anyone asks I'll just blame Kaylen."

Kaylen laughed, swatting Thomas on the arm. "You brat. Though you're right, that is what Alia would have done. She'd have blamed you, though."

"She'd have blamed me," Valyrym muttered, spearing a slab of elk with a claw. He hoisted it up and popped it into his muzzle, then gave a little groan of delight. Oh, that was nice.

"That is good practice though, Thomas," Kaylen said. She reached out and grabbed Thomas' shirt sleeve, rolling it back down his arm just to irritate him.

"Practice?" Thomas tugged his arm away from her, rolling his sleeve back up.

"Yes," Kaylen said, nodding. "In case Alia can't...well...In case we have to pick up the slack. It'll be good for you and I to act as much like her as possible."

Valyrym growled under his breath. He wondered if they knew something he didn't. "You sound as though you have knowledge you have not shared."

"Only guesses and assumptions," Kaylen admitted. "We'd already talked about it, though. If Alia is...well, unable to serve you as Warden for a while, we're hoping to be able to fill in for her. To try and keep you happy, keep things running as smoothly as possible until they let her return."

Valyrym flared up his spines, growling low in his throat. He ate another slab of elk, then sighed. Things could be worse. He flicked his claws at Thomas, splattering his face with elk juice droplets. Thomas wiped his face with a hand, and the dragon smirked at him. "So long as this one here does not expect to be...servicing me in the special way Alia sometimes does."

Thomas' eyes went wide, and he backed away with a laugh. "Oh, no, I've no intention of servicing you at all. Not like that, anyway." He jerked his thumb at Kaylen. "Kaylen, though, I sometimes think she'd be happy to "service" you and Vatch at the same time!"

"Hey!" Kaylen laughed. She stomped a foot like a grumpy toddler. "That is quite enough out of you Thomas."

"What means service?" Vatch asked, confused by the entendre.

"It means..." Valyrym started before Kaylen swatted him on the nose. "Ow!" He hissed at her.

"Oh no you don't, Dragon." Kaylen shook her finger at him. "Don't you go giving Vatchy Pup any ideas. And if you keep acting like a scaly brat, and I'll see to it you'll be going without "servicing" whether Alia is suspended or not."

Valyrym snorted, rubbing his nose. "So does that mean if I behave myself, you shall service me yourself if she is absent?"

Kaylen flushed a little, swallowing hard. Perhaps that hadn't come out quite the way she'd intended it. "That isn't what I meant."

"Alia says you quite enjoyed yourself last time," Thomas spoke up, grinning.

"Oh no, Thomas," Kaylen said, turning towards him with narrowed eyes. Her dark hair swished around her rounded face. "You won't get me to admit things that easily."

"So you've something to admit to, have you?" Thomas made a show of examining his fingernails. "I thought as much."

"Nice try, Thomas," Kaylen said, turning back around and immediately changing the subject. "May I have some of your elk, Valyrym?"

"You may," the dragon said with a little chuckle. "A shame my old friend Korvarak can't pay us a visit. I'm sure he'd be happy to experience Thomas' services."

Thomas folded his arms, grinning. "You dragons are perverts."

"Simply less ashamed of the natural pleasures of the world," Valyrym said, eating a few more slices of roasted elk. "More willing to embrace what we enjoy, and less willing to look down on others for enjoying something different."

"Wish more of the world was like that," Kaylen said, settling down on the floor across from the dragon.

Thomas settled down nearby, and soon Vatch did the same. Thomas passed Vatch a piece of elk, and then took one for himself. "It would make things easier if more creatures thought like dragons, I suppose."

"You should see gryphons," Valyrym said with a chuckle. "Or so I hear. According to the Queen, that gryphon she calls friend will share pleasure with anything that breathes." He stroked his muzzle a moment, laughing. "I bet Korvarak would have loved that."

"From the way you talk about him, I'm starting to think this Korvarak was far more into males than females," Thomas said, scooping up some sauce with his elk slice.

Valyrym smirked a little. "No, in truth, I'm sure it was the other way around. He did have a daughter with my sister, after all. But we had to tease him about something." Valyrym waved his paw, laughing to himself. "There was this little runt, Voskalar."

"Like Velvet Vos? You named them all after your old friends, didn't you."

Valyrym murmured. "Yes, I did. Voskalar was a tiny little thing when I first met him. Captured by some soldiers in fact. Nearly pissed himself in fear. An adolescent but not by much. Probably should have still been with his family, but...well, things rarely work out the way they should. Luckily for him, they were Aran'alian soldiers who captured him, and I happened to come along at the right time to talk them into letting him go. Sent him to go see Korvarak, and Korvarak took him on as a sort of beta-dragon the same way I once did for Kor." Valyrym popped a piece of elk into his mouth, murmuring in thought and enjoyment as he chewed it up. "When the war started, Korvarak and Voskalar were nearly inseparable, and Voskalar never seemed to grasp why we were teasing them about it. I'm pretty sure they did play around with each other a time or two, but none of us truly cared. It was just fun to tease them."

"I'm sure it was!" Kaylen giggled. "Did you ever...you know, catch them?"

"Not in the literal sense," Valyrym said, licking juice from his nose. "But in the sense of getting them to blurt things out they shouldn't have, a few times." He chuckled, and then gave a little sigh. "Voskalar was a sweet little thing, really. Earnest, a beautiful heart. More than willing to give his blood to fight for his home." Valyrym held his breath a moment, memories flickering behind golden eyes. The others could almost see the young bronze dragon's ghostly image drifting across Valyrym's gaze. "I wonder whatever happened to him." Then the dragon shook his head, grinning. "I hope that little runt hasn't gotten himself into too much trouble."

"I'm sure he's fine," Kaylen said. She reached out and set her hand atop the dragon's paw, smiling. "Besides, if he was a runt the last time you saw him, he's probably just hitting his prime now that you're all old and decrepit."

Valyrym snorted and flared his spines. "Yes, thank you for that uplifting thought."

"Anytime," Kaylen said, patting the dragon's forepaw.

"Hopefully, wherever he is, he is far from Aran'alia." Valyrym licked his nose. He helped himself to a few more slices of elk, and then sought to explain himself when Thomas and Kaylen gave each other a confused look. "I cannot imagine it a hospitable place for my kind anymore."

"Maybe he moved to Denoria," Thomas suggested, nibbling on some elk as well after handing Vatch another slice. "Enric seemed to think they were quite happy to host dragons."

"Yes, perhaps," Valyrym said, his voice softening as a smile crept over his muzzle. "Denoria. It is not a country I had heard of before then, though it sounds as though it is some good distance from where I once lived. I think...I think that is where my son lives now."

Valyrym turned his eyes up to one of the air vents, staring at the small swath of clear blue sky beyond. He smiled to himself for a moment, and the others were happy to let him enjoy his moment of happiness. Anything that could ease his burden for a little while at a difficult time like this was helpful for the dragon. After a little while, the dragon gave a playful sneer, thumping his tail against the floor. His spines clattered on the stone.

"I shall have to have the Queen bring her bird down here. Then I can wring his neck until he tells me all about my son. Kathlyn wouldn't commit to an answer about where Valar actually lives now, but I am fairly certain it was Denoria."

"I don't think you're supposed to call her Kathlyn," Thomas said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand in lieu of a napkin.

"And I don't think she is supposed to withhold information about my son," Valyrym snapped. "She's not my queen. I'll call her whatever I damn well please. Besides, she and I are on a first name basis now. She even cuddled with Alia and I for a time."

All three of Valyrym's visitors burst out laughing. He pulled his head back, neck curling in an S. The old dragon glared down at them a moment. "What's so funny?"

"The idea that you'd cuddle on anything not named Alia, or Val Junior," Kaylen said through her giggles.

Thomas jumped right in. "Actually, I'm not sure which is funnier. That you just admitted to "cuddling", or the fact that you actually think you can convince us the Queen herself cuddled with you!"

"She did!" Valyrym protested, his frilled ears drooping a little. "If it makes it more believable, I wasn't supposed to tell anyone. Besides, it was Alia's idea, I just went along with it."

"That's actually a little more believable," Thomas admitted, then smirked. "If it weren't for the fact that Alia had been so worried about your behavior before you actually met the Queen."

"She needn't be." Valyrym curled his tail around his paws after pushing the nearly empty tray towards the others. "I was a black-scaled angel."

"That's not how Alia tells it."

Valyrym narrowed his eyes, flaring up his spines. "And how does Alia tell it?"

"She says you called the Queen an old bag and threw things at her."

"That's because Kathlyn is an old bag, and the only thing I threw was soft." The dragon smirked a moment. "As I said, I was an angel. Otherwise I'd have thrown a barrel at her and gone for a nap while Alia attended the bleeding."

"I suppose that would be one way to end your imprisonment. Execution for throwing barrels at the Queen." Thomas grinned, shaking his head.

"Kathlyn wouldn't execute me." Valyrym rose up from the floor, and began to pad over towards one of his ledges. He chose the one with the soft, burgundy rug he'd come to cherish, not that he'd tell anyone. As he climbed up onto the ledge, he glanced back with a toothy grin. "I remind her of her bird."

"Do you then?"

"Yes, that's why she cuddled me." Valyrym stretched myself out upon the rug, sighing. He wished Alia would hurry up and tell him the bad news so he could start dealing with it. Perhaps it would be good news. Probably not. Valyrym was hardly an optimist, he suspected it would only be bad, or worse. "Because she misses her bird."

"I'm actually not surprised he reminds her of the gryphon," Thomas said matter-of-factly.

"And why's that, Thomas?" Kaylen asked, handing the last slice of elk to Vatch. As the Urd'thin eagerly devoured it, Kaylen stacked the trays atop each other to carry them out of the dungeon. Thomas had fetched the food in the first place so Kaylen thought it only fair she return the trays.

"Because the way Alia tells it, the only creature in all the world more layered in vanity and wrapped in smugness than Valyrym is the Queen's gryphon."

Valyrym glared at Thomas a moment. "I should bite you, but I'd never get the taste of pompous twit out of my mouth."

"Case in point," Thomas said, waving grandly at the dragon.

"So I see," Kaylen said, grinning. "I should like to meet this gryphon, sometime. Though I suppose if I made a request of it the Queen would probably have Alia thrown in the dungeon for spilling state secrets to a bunch of Aran'alian servants."

Kaylen made her way to the stairs, and Valyrym sprawled upon the rug. Thomas fetched himself a mug of silver water from the barrel, and brought Valyrym a bowl of it as well. Vatch went to the little office beyond the exit, and soon returned bearing a few of his favorite books. Thomas handed Vatch a little mug of water as well before the Urd'thin settled in on the carpet across from the dragon. He offered the dragon one of the books, a dopey grin spread over his somewhat canine muzzle.

"We read now?"

"May as well make the attempt," Valyrym said, gently taking the book from the Urd'thin. He peered at it, snorting. "The Village And The Dragon, again?"

"Is good book, is happy ending," Vatch said. Then he patted the dragon's paw. "Is cheer you up."

"I suspect I shall need further cheering up by this evening. But I appreciate your gesture, Vatch. Very well." Valyrym eased his head up, opening the book to the first page. "The Village and the Dragon it is."

As Valyrym began to read, Thomas settled in nearby to listen as well. Before long the story had brought a smile to his face. It was rare to read stories depicting his homeland, or at least someone's imaginative interpretation of it. Even rarer to hear stories that ended happily for both the titular village and dragon.

"Is this a true story?" Thomas asked, partway through.

Valyrym glanced up at him, shrugging his wings. "We can hope so, at any rate."

The old dragon returned to reading the story to an increasingly enrapt Urd'thin. Valyrym found Vatch's joy at such simple thing rather infectious. Though he might have hated to admit it, reading the story once again did improve his mood a little bit. This time they didn't quite have enough time to finish the story, though they both knew how it ended. By the time they were nearly three-quarters the way through, Kaylen had returned and was happily announcing who she'd brought with her.

"Look who I just found wandering the halls!" Kaylen said, gesturing towards Alia.

"I was hardly wandering the halls, Kaylen," Alia said, laughing a little. "Though I am sorry it took me so long to get down here. I had to take a bath, and get a change of clothes and some fresh air."

"That bad, was it?" Valyrym asked, lifting his head.

Alia pursed her lips, turning her attention to the dragon. She walked towards him, her heart racing. For a moment, she simply let her eyes linger on Valyrym's, measuring all the hope and fear that roiled within his golden gaze. "No, my Love," Alia said, wishing she could offer him more comfort than that. "It was not so bad."

Alia wore her simple pale blue sundress with the indigo blossoms spiraling across it. She'd had enough of formal wear for the day, and wanted something loose and comfortable. Alia strode to the ledge, and hiked up the skirt of her dress a little bit to climb up atop the recently carpeted shelf of stone. Then she settled down near the dragon, and gently took his head in her hands.

"Careful Alia," Kaylen said, giggling in an attempt to lighten the mood. "You hike that dress up any further and you're going to be showing everyone here your ass."

Alia couldn't help but share the giggle a little. "Is there anyone here who hasn't seen my ass already?"

Vatch slowly lifted his hand, grinning.

Alia laughed harder, and stuck her tongue out at the Urd'thin. "Maybe next time, Vatch." Then she yelped in surprise when Valyrym wrapped a foreleg around her middle and dragged her up against his chest plates. He lowered his head till he was nose to nose with her, and gave her a tender lick. "So? How bad is it?"

Alia tilted her head as he licked at her cheek, and neck, closing her eyes a moment. No hiding their affections now, not among her friends. She liked that, it was liberating in a way. "I told you, it wasn't that bad."

"That does not answer the question." Valyrym, worried as he was, was in no mood for platitudes. He simply wanted to know the answer to his fears.

"You are going to have to do without me for a little while," Alia admitted, slipping her hand under his chin. "But only for a little while. It's only a temporary suspension."

"How long is a little while?" Valyrym growled at her, anger mixing with his fear.

"...Three months." Alia swallowed hard. Thomas winced and Kaylen swallowed, though Valyrym seemed unreadable for a moment save for the shining of his eyes. "I have one week to prepare everything for my absence, and then I am banished from the castle for three months." Alia quickly put her hand on the dragon's nose as if to shush him before he could protest. "But that is it! After that, I return to re-take the Warden Position. Permanently. Forever, Valyrym. After three months, you'll be stuck with me for the rest of my life."

Valyrym did not seem to share her humor. He pulled his head away from her hand, growling low in his throat. He blinked away a few hot tears, pinning his ears against his skull, his spines flat. "Three months..." He unsheathed his claws, and dragged them back against the red-wine toned carpet, leaving long ruts. Alia could feel his body tensing with unspent anger. "You never should have struck him!" The dragon snarled. He lashed his tail, and slammed his paw against the rug. "You should have let it be, Alia!"

Alia grit her teeth. She knew Valyrym didn't mean to take things out on her, and in truth she had expected anger from the dragon. Anger and sorrow and fear for his upcoming time alone. Though his anger began to rouse an indignant sort of the same from her, Alia forced herself to quell it. Growing angry and yelling at Valyrym would not help either of them now. She'd already prepared herself for as much, so she took a deep breath, let her indignant frustration fade, and then simply stroked the old dragon's neck.

"Yes, Valyrym," she admitted. "I should have let it go. But I couldn't. Especially not at that moment. Besides, you're..." Alia paused, trying to choose her words carefully. She'd almost said, you're one to talk about letting things go. But Alia had no desire to reopen old wounds, simply to make her point. "Would you have let it go, Valyrym? If I was the one he'd tortured, and you were the one who came across him skulking about?"

Valyrym growled, glancing away. "I would have killed him."

"Then you should be glad I only shattered his nose and beat the teeth of his mouth," Alia said. "Three months is not that long, Valyrym. So long as you are going to be alright without me..." Alia paused, and took his head in both hands. She pulled it back towards her, kissing his nose. "And you are. I will gladly take three months banishment in return for teaching that little bastard a proper lesson."

Valyrym snorted. "I suppose I cannot say I am totally caught unaware. As soon as you told me of this...trial...I feared they would take you from me."

"Temporarily," Alia reminded him again. "From the first day I am gone, just...count down the days. Surely ninety days or so will fly by for a dragon."

"Yes, I'm sure they will," Valyrym snarled under his breath, waving his paw in the air. "What with all the enthralling activities I'm up to every day." Then he pulled his head back, giving Alia just a little smirk. "Did you really knock his teeth out?"

"Yes," Alia said, grinning. "And you should see his nose. It's all...crooked, and flat." She stroked the dragon's cheek, leaning her head against his muzzle. "And now all the nobles and wealthy families in town know just what a twisted, cruel piece of filth he really is."

"Do they, then."

"Kathlyn and I made sure I got to tell my side of the story." Alia lifted her head, grinning at her friends. "My side being just how badly injured Valyrym was, and how he'd done nothing to deserve it."

Thomas smiled for a moment, but soon it twisted into a scowl. "Wait, did you just call her Kathlyn too? Bad enough the dragon does it. You're going to get us all thrown in the dungeon at this rate."

Alia laughed. "It's not as if I call her that to her face."

"So what was his side of the story?" Valyrym asked, a little more insightful than Alia had hoped he'd be. "I assume if you were attempting to show his true colors, he was attempting to make you look just as bad."

"He was," Alia said. "Thankfully, The Queen was the only one actually passing judgment, and she already knows me."

"What does that mean?" Valyrym cocked his head. "What did he say?"

"I'd rather not..."

"Do I not have a right to know what goes on with you, Alia?" Valyrym flared out his wings with a growl, beating them against the air above everyone. Wind buffeted their hair about as the dragon glared at his lover. "I may be stuck down here, but I am still part of your life, am I not? I would have been there if I could! I want to know what they said, I want to know what you will have to deal with! I want to be able to protect you from it!" The dragon snapped his jaws in frustration, balling up a forepaw and slamming it against the carpet. "I hate knowing you will be out there, alone, for three months while I cannot do anything to help you! Do I not at least have a right to know what was done, what was said?"

Alia sighed, and waited for Valyrym's anger to bleed off a little before she gestured for him to lower his head again. Then she pulled his head back against her body, hugging him to her warmth. Valyrym folded his wings against himself again, grumbling under his breath. Alia stroked his jaw line a little while, trying to decide how much she should tell him. It took her only a moment to realize the dragon was right. Valyrym was her lover now, and he had every right to know what happened in her life.

"Armadine had done a lot of digging," Alia said softly, still rubbing the warm, pebbly scales of the old dragon's jaw. "It was pretty clear he wanted to use the trial as a chance to humiliate me as much as possible. I don't know if he thought he could actually sway the Queen to issue a stiffer punishment, but he certainly wanted to make me look bad in front of as many influential people as he could."

"How so?" The dragon asked, gently nuzzling at Alia.

Alia chewed on her tongue a moment. The more she told the dragon the angrier he might get, and yet she did not want to lie to him. Nor did she wish to hide anything from him. If knowledge spread he'd probably find out eventually, anyway. "First he babbled on about my past, and my scars, and claimed I have a problem with authority."

"Don't you?" Kaylen asked, giggling. Alia's three friends had remained mostly silent to let Alia and the dragon have time to talk, but so far they had stayed on to support the two of them should they need it.

Alia smirked at Kaylen a moment. "Only when that authority is abused. Then the little bastard tried to convince people that I somehow seduced Lord Asterbury and dragged him into that alcove myself."

Thomas scoffed in disbelief. "Did anyone actually believe him? Even I knew Asterbury was a letch."

"Who is Lord Asterbury?" Valyrym asked with a hiss.

"Some idiot noble who pushed your woman into a corner and felt up her tits," Kaylen said, grinning at the dragon.

"You've quite the way with words, Kaylen," Valyrym snorted. "When was this?"

"Before I even met you," Alia said as if to head off the dragon's anger before it began.

"Alia kneed him in the balls," Kaylen added, laughing.

"Good girl," Valyrym murmured.

"Think he coughed one of them up," Kaylen added, still giggling to herself.

"I remember when she did that," Thomas said. "There was a time we all half thought she'd been assigned to you out of punishment!"

"Oh, so I am a punishment to the lot of you?" Valyrym curled his tail, growling. "I see how I rate."

"To be fair, Valyrym," Alia said, grinning and rubbing his nose. "You are awfully hard to put up with."

"Hey!" Valyrym hung his head a little, whimpering.

"Alright, alright, plea for sympathy granted," Alia said, hugging his head again. "Actually I only thought it was a punishment because I didn't know you yet. You should have heard the guards telling me about all the injuries you'd caused over the years as I first descended your stairs. I was half convinced you were going to eat me."

"The guards should not have tried to stick me with pointy things." The dragon growled, casting a glance back at the old scar on his hind leg. "So what else did this idiot have to say about you?"

"Well, I'm not sure how successful his attempts were, for one thing," Alia said, leaning against Valyrym's chest plates. She adjusted her blue dress a little across her legs. "It seemed even the other nobles there knew that Asterbury was a letch. And I think at least some of them understood why I did the things I did when I was younger. I also think some of them didn't appreciate the fact he'd called me before the Queen just to try and roll me around in as much filth as possible. I think there are more reasonable people among the Illandrans than I used to imagine."

"That doesn't really answer the question I asked though, does it."

Alia gave the dragon a bittersweet smile. Sometimes she almost wished he was a little less perceptive. "No, I suppose it doesn't. Very well, Valyrym. He also brought us up."

"Us?" The dragon tilted his head.

"Yes." Alia slowly nodded. Her black hair hadn't finished drying from her earlier bath, it swished around her face in damp strings. "Us. As in, you and I."

"I understand the meaning of the word, Alia." The dragon's voice was growing sharper.

Alia knew the dragon didn't like her dancing around, so she just blurted it out. "He told everyone we were lovers."

Valyrym growled. Vatch squeaked. Thomas sucked in a soft breath and Kaylen gasped.

Alia looked from face to face, her own skin heated and flushed at the admission. Not that she was embarrassed by such a thing in front of her friends now, but to have so many other people know...to have it used to try and humiliate her. "He called me your whore, actually. Basically...he was trying to prove to everyone I'm some sort of...sick pervert using a dragon for my own pleasure, and should therefore be removed permanently from the Warden's Office."

"But...obviously...The Queen didn't..." Thomas wasn't really sure how to proceed.

"The Queen disagreed," Alia said, starting to smile again. "Quite vehemently so."

"Did she then?" Valyrym asked, tilting his head. The idea that the queen would actually defend their relationship in public helped to soothe some of the dragon's simmering anger before it reached a boil.

"Oh yes," Alia said, her smile growing. "In fact she made it quite clear to everyone that she did not care, and neither should they. She basically told them, it was alright if they personally found it distasteful, but that they should keep in mind there was no law against such consensual acts between various peoples, and that they should judge me based upon my performance in my job, and not my personal life."

Valyrym rolled over onto his side a little. He tugged Alia with him, ignoring her squeak of protect. "I knew I liked Kathlyn for a reason. Though I cannot help but wonder if her...feelings...for her bird are not similar."

Alia stroked the scutes of Valyrym's right foreleg. "It was brought up by Armadine, actually. I half thought she'd have him thrown out of the Hall for it, too."

"She should have."

"How did Armadine even know?" Thomas asked, glancing at Kaylen. "Kaylen and I certainly haven't said anything to anyone, and we all know prying information from Enric is like trying to pry a coin from an Urd'thin."

"Hey!" Vatch yipped, glaring at them.

"Sorry," Thomas said sheepishly.

Alia shrugged. "I'm not sure. I know there have been rumors floating around for quite some time. But it seemed like there was far more...concrete information for Armadine to try and use against me. If I had to guess, I'd say Valyrym and I got careless and some guard spotted us. Armadine had a lot of testimonials and claimed to have witnesses ready to call. Though by the time it was clear he was only out to humiliate me in front of as many people as possible, Kathlyn decided it was my turn to talk."

"Well, there's that to be thankful for, at least." Thomas reached out and gently squeezed Alia's shoulder. "I'm sorry you had to go through all that."

"I've been through worse," Alia said, smiling at him. She touched his arm in return. "Besides, I think it may have backfired on Armadine. From the sounds of it, half the people there were as disgusted with the way he was using my personal life against me as the other half were by the fact I have a dragon as a lover. And once Enric and I were presenting the evidence of Armadine's cruelty, I think even some of the people revolted by me were starting to turn against Armadine."

"Perhaps one of them will do the world a favor and toss him off some high bridge somewhere," Valyrym said, grumbling. "So...everyone...knows, now."

Alia gave a little shrug. "Well, the people in the court today, do. That is, the wealthy families and the nobles that were invited to bear witness to Armadine's charges. Some of them invited by him, others by the Queen, and others there for protocol, I'm sure. Her advisers, her son, and so on."

"The prince is here?" Kaylen perked up. "He's usually off playing diplomat, isn't he?"

"Yes, as far as I know. But he's here to run the country while Kathlyn goes on her journey." Alia hooked some damp hair behind her ear. "I think she was hoping he'd see what an ass Armadine really is. Not sure if it worked or not."

"Mm," Kaylen hugged herself, sighing. "I should like to meet him. Was he as handsome as they say?"

Alia shrugged and laughed. "I suppose. I didn't pay much attention to him to be honest. I think they exaggerate the attractiveness of royals to begin with, but he seemed handsome enough." Then she tilted her head back against Valyrym's scales, smiling at him. "Not as handsome as my dragon, though."

"Nor as well endowed," the dragon murmured. There was laughter, and the dragon smiled for a moment. Then he grew more serious again. "Do you think they will give you problems for it? For us, I mean. While you are...where are you going to be, exactly?"

"They're giving me enough pay to get myself a little house in the city," Alia explained. She lifted her hand, idly stroking the dragon's neck. She sighed to herself. Gods, she was going to miss him. Still, she could last three months. She knew it was going to be harder on him than it was on her. "I don't think they'll give me problems for it. Perhaps some disgusted looks, some dirty words and slurs. But I'm Aran'alian, Valyrym. I've heard that all my life. If they want to call me a dragon's whore, that's fine. If they push it too far, they'll just have to answer to my boot and my fist."

"Perhaps no one outside the court will know, anyway," Thomas suggested. He didn't much like the idea of Alia beating up everyone who insulted her. Well, actually he did like that idea. He just didn't want her to get herself in any more trouble.

Kaylen prodded Thomas' shoulder, grinning. "You're probably right, Thomas. Because everyone knows that the nobles and the wealthy never do any gossiping."

"It doesn't matter if they know," Alia said. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against Valyrym. "And I'll be fine. It's not as though I'm being banished to some blackened wasteland. I'll just be in the city, away from the castle for a few months."

"Three months," Valyrym murmured.

"Yes, Val, three months," Alia said, tilting her head back and forth as though tickling his scales with her hair. "After all the years you've spent here, three months should be nothing for a dragon. And just think of all the treats and presents I'll have accrued to bring you by the time I return."

Valyrym snorted, lifting his head a little. "I should hope you're not stashing away treats for the entire three months or they shall gone quite rotten by the time you return."

"And if you misbehave for Kaylen and Thomas, that's all you'll be getting when I return. Rotten cake and moldering dumplings."

"I shall promise no such good behavior for either of them," the dragon said, turning his golden eyes towards his other three friends. "I shall behave for Vatch, though. He knows how to get things done around here."

"As long as you're behaving for someone," Alia giggled, looking at Vatch.

Vatch grinned back at her, perking his oversized brown furred ears. "Vatch Warden now."

Alia's smile twisted into a scowl. "Oh, no. Not for another week, anyway."

Kaylen gave a gasp. "You're making him the warden?!"

Alia couldn't help laughing. "No, I don't think so. Sorry to disappoint, Vatch."

Valyrym gave a disappointed, mewling sound. "Shame. He'd have done a far better job than the rest of you. Especially you, Alia. I don't think you could have bungled this operation any worse."

"No, I've certainly made quite the mess of things." Alia hooked her arm around the dragon's neck when he lowered his head to pull him against her body. "Actually, I'm thinking of making Thomas the warden."

Alia stroked Valyrym's neck while watching her friends to see how they handled that idea. Thomas' jaw dropped and his eyes widened. He stammered a few times, mouth opening and closing like a fish struggling for oxygen. His ears flushed a little, and Kaylen stared at him with a gaping expression of her own.

After a moment, Kaylen gave a mock huff, putting her hands upon her hips. "And I thought I outranked him!"

"It's only a temporary position, anyway," Alia said, smiling. "With all due respect to you, my lovely Kaylen. I think Thomas has the wisest business sense and the greatest ability to deal with extremely frustrating people out of the lot of us." She waved her hand at Kaylen, smirking. "You're always threatening to knee people in the groin, and even I've just gotten out of trial for assaulting a nobleman. In fact I think Thomas here is the only one of us who hasn't been in some kind of trouble with authority."

"Ah," Kaylen said, nodding. She folded her arms beneath her breasts. "So you're just appointing a pushover to the job for the sake of appearances. I can live with that. So long as Thomas is willing to admit I'm better than him."

"I shall admit no such thing," Thomas said, laughing. "I don't know about this though, Alia. Why don't you consider appointing Enric?"

Valyrym grunted at that idea, flicking his spined tail. "The man spends too much time acting like my friend as it is."

Alia ignored the dragon. "I considered Enric for a moment. And then I realized that even if I offered him the position and he accepted, it would be a pretty big demotion. It's a wonderful job for us, obviously, but Enric? The man's a highly respected captain of the guard and longtime spy for Her Majesty. I rather feel Dragon Warden is a bit of a step down for him."

"How is that expected to make me feel?" Valyrym asked, tilting his head back against Alia's body to glare up at her face.

"Oh, hush up you scaly old bastard," Alia said. She leaned down to kiss his nose.

"I see how I rate," Valyrym muttered.

"Besides," Alia went on, gesturing at Thomas again. "I'd rather have a capable Aran'alian in charge. After all, that was part of this whole grand experiment the Queen came up with. To prove to everyone we're as capable as they are. Apparently, I've done well enough to help prove her point, and as proud as I am of that, I shall be even prouder if you can continue that trend for me. To show them that I am not an aberration. That I can leave the position, another Aran'alian can step in, and continue to do the job just as well."

Alia paused, and leaned forward to put her hand against Kaylen a moment. "Kaylen, I love you like my sister, and I don't doubt you could do this job yourself. But remember when we first went to see Paulson together, and you talked about how glad you were you wouldn't have to feel like you were putting yourself in a neat little box for the Illandrans all the time any more? If I made you the warden, you would have to put yourself back in that box, and lock it shut for the next three months. As soon as the butchers and suppliers and everyone else we have contracts with hear that there is a new warden, they are going to seek to cut themselves better deals. You'll have to deal with them for weeks on end, I'm certain. To say nothing of every other person you'll have to meet with to learn all the logistics of actually keeping a dragon fed and sheltered and paid for, and with all the infuriating idiots who will try and pull rank upon you to get a chance to come gawk at Valyrym. And with the guards who'll question you about this and that and..."

"Alright, alright," Kaylen said, laughing. "I get the idea. I'm not sure I could cram myself back in that little box anymore, anyway." She gave a little sigh, and then smiled at Thomas. "You're right, though. Thomas is far better at that sort of thing than I am."

"Thank you, Kaylen," Thomas said, grinning.

"It is after all the sort of job best suited for a stiff blouse who doesn't know how to have any fun, and doesn't mind how much you insult him." Kaylen smirked, poking Thomas in the arm.

Thomas poked her back. "I know how to have fun. Besides, if that was what the job really needed, how did Alia do it so well?"

"Dumb luck," Alia offered, laughing. "I wasn't exaggerating though, Thomas. You will have to do all those things, and I do think you're the best suited for it. Out of all of us, I mean. Even myself. I may be better at actually handling the dragon, but you're far and away the most business savvy. Or at least the most people-savvy. I've bumbled my way through contract negotiations and things by sheer determination but I think you'll be able to beat even my rates. Which, I assure you, would impress quite a few important people around here. So what do you say? Want to be the Warden a while?"

Thomas gave an exaggerated sigh, folding his arms over his chest. "I suppose someone's got to do it, it may as well be me. Very well Alia, I accept this offer. I also accept what I assume will be a substantial pay increase."

"You may be disappointed then," Alia said, laughing. "But I'm glad to hear it. Then again, I suppose if Kaylen and Vatch don't carry their weight around here while I'm gone, you can always reduce their pay in penalty and pocket the rest."

"An excellent idea," Thomas said, grinning at Kaylen.

"I shall knee you if you do, Thomas."

"I shall fire you if you do that, Kaylen."

"You see?" Alia giggled. "Thinking like the Warden already." Alia rose to her feet, walked around the dragon's front leg, and then sat back down to lean up against his side, just behind his shoulder. As she got comfortable, she turned her attention to the others. "Now, a few other things we'll need to go over."

"I am not furniture to be manipulated for your comfort," the dragon said in protest.

Alia ignored him completely, rubbing his scales. "As I said, I have a week left. In that week, I will set up as much as I can to make sure everything goes smoothly while I'm away. I'll also run the three of you through as much information about your new responsibilities as I can. Thomas will be taking over directly for me, so Kaylen and Vatch will have to step up and take on a share of his previous duties."

Kaylen stuck her tongue out at Thomas. "I'm sure I can make time to walk around and act pompous at least twice a day. Vatch, do you think you'll have time to complain at least once a day, and tell us why we shouldn't be doing what we're doing?"

Vatch gave a solemn nod. "Vatch do his very best."

Thomas just snorted. "You two are begging for a pay cut."

"Good," Alia said, leaning her head back against the dragon again. She could faintly feel his powerful heart beat thudding behind his scales, beneath his ribs. "Now, while I'm being banished from the castle, and by extension my lovely dragon here, I am not forbidden to meet with you three. In fact I believe I'm going to be allowed to meet with you whenever needed, so long as it is in the city, in order to discuss business. Such as how things are going with the dragon and if you're having any problems. I'll be expecting an update at least once a week, perhaps twice a week."

"Right," Thomas said with a nod. "I'll keep excellent logs, Alia, and I'll have reports prepared for you weekly if not more often."

"Good," Alia replied, then smirked. "Really though I'm just looking for an excuse to meet with my friends. But I would like those reports."

"Where are you going to live?" Kaylen rose to her feet, and went to the barrels to get everyone a drink. She returned with an armload of cups filled with silver water, then filled up the dragon's bowl as well. "And will we get more of this stuff? We're almost out."

"I'll see about another barrel before I'm kicked out," Alia giggled. "After that it will be up to Thomas to keep on top of that sort of thing. But last time I talked to her, she seemed to hint she had plenty more to offer." Alia pursed her lips. "Which was a bit of a surprise actually, given that the first time I enquired about it, she acted as though it was very scarce."

"Can't be that hard to barrel up rain," Thomas muttered. "Probably having wagonloads of it shipped to her now that it's selling so well to all the Aran'alians thirsty for a taste of home."

"Probably true," Alia said, nodding. She worked her pale blue dress out over her legs a little, and then glanced at Kaylen. "Speaking of home. To answer your other question Kaylen, I'm thinking of getting a little home near the Aran'alian district. Perhaps by where we used to live."

"Really?" Kaylen scrunched her face up, shaking her head. "It's a bit slummy isn't it?"

Alia burst out laughing. "Slummy? Listen to you, working as a servant in the castle for a few years, and suddenly your old home is slummy."

"Oh, it was always slummy," Kaylen said, giggling. "I just couldn't afford to live anywhere better. And if you must know it's the promotion to Warden's Assistant that's done it. I've become quite the uppity snob."

"Yes, I'm sure you have." Alia smirked at her friend. "How long has it been since any of us have actually been to the old Aran'alian district? I had a bit of a look around the last time I went to see that vendor..."

"The spy?" Thomas asked, quirking a brow.

"Yes, Thomas," Alia said, scoffing a little. "If you want to call her that. Whatever she's doing here, she's the only one who can get me that water for us to enjoy. Anyway, I wandered around a bit. Things seemed nicer than I remembered, at least in the part of the district I was in. Things seem fixed up lately. There were also a lot more Aran'alians than even when we were all children. I think it will be nice to live among them again for a little while. Maybe hear some stories of our home from people who've just recently arrived."

"Yes, I'm sure that's the sort of story you'd be dying to hear, Alia," Thomas said, rolling his sleeves back down. "Nothing like hearing how oppressed we are back in our own homeland."

"Can't be much worse than here," Kaylen said.

"Is it really that bad here, though?" Alia countered. "The three of us are clearly doing just fine."

"If only the rest of us could get a decent job, I might be inclined to agree with you."

"This is the first step, though, isn't it?" Alia waved her hand around them. "The three of us doing an important job, succeeding at it. I'd like to think the Queen is right, and that we really are...well...The tip of the spear, as it were. If we want to see our people succeed, we have to set the example. We're already doing that, and soon, I'm sure others will be following in our steps. I can tell you, if I get a place in the Aran'alian district, I shall be happy to help as many of them find good jobs as I can while I'm there. I've made enough contacts now that I think I know quite a few places who will be willing to hire them on at good rates, and treat them as equals."

"Ah, so you've some ulterior motive for moving into the Aran'alian district." Thomas grinned at her. "Good on you. Just..."

"Just what?" Alia tilted her head, a hint of concern flickering in her eyes.

"Be careful how you approach the subject, Alia." Thomas wrung his hands a little, then sipped his silver water from his wooden mug. "Some people might take it the wrong way. They might think you're being condescending to them. Some wealthy castle worker come to pay a visit to the poor and tell her people how they ought to be running their lives."

Alia's emerald eyes flickered a little. She hadn't really thought of it like that. She took a drink of water, and swished it about in her mouth in thought. "I suppose I see your point. I don't want them to get the idea I think I'm better than them or anything. I'll see how it goes, and wait for the right moment, and the right people to approach about the subject. I'll be careful."

"You'd better be," rumbled Valyrym. "If I have to tear down that wall to come protect you, I shall be quite cross."

"Oh no," Alia said sternly, though a grin diffused the sharp tone of her voice. "You won't be tearing down any walls. We are going to wait until the Queen returns, and sets you free."

"You sound awfully optimistic about that lately." Valyrym smiled a little. He wouldn't say it, but he appreciated the optimism Alia had brought into his life. It warmed his buried heart a little more day by day.

"And why shouldn't I be?" Alia prodded Valyrym's foreleg until he lifted it. She crawled beneath it, and he draped it around her middle. "The Queen herself was snuggling with you. Why shouldn't she decide you've suffered enough?"

"Wait..." Thomas stuttered a little, nearly choking on his water. "Wait...wait! The Queen..."

"I told you," Valyrym snorted.

"The Queen really did snuggle with him?" Kaylen asked when Thomas couldn't quite spit out the words.

"She most certainly did," Alia said, grinning. "Not that I'm supposed to tell anyone. But it's alright. No one else would believe it anyway."

"I didn't even believe him," Thomas said, gesturing to Valyrym with his cup. A little water sloshed over his fingers. "I thought he was making it up."

"That's because you're an idiot," Valyrym growled, narrowing his sun-gold eyes.

"No, it's because you're always telling us stories that are half true at best," Thomas said, glaring right back at the dragon.

"The point is," Alia said, her voice like a hardened shield set between the two of them. "That when the Queen returns, and when she sets Valyrym free, he and I are getting the hell out of here. And as we've previously discussed, you three are welcome to come with us to go and visit his son in Denoria, or wherever it is he's settled himself."

"I cannot carry all four of you," Valyrym said, stretching out his gray-edged wings as if to show their tatters. "Especially with wings that have not carried me aloft in years I care not to count. I glide and pump my wings to keep some strength in them but it is not the same. We shall have to leave someone behind. Perhaps two someone's. I nominate Thomas."

"Why me?" Thomas asked, huffing. "I think we should leave Kaylen behind. She'd only drive everyone crazy, anyway."

Valyrym gave a throaty laugh. "Yes, well, I may be leaving her behind as well. As I'll be carrying Alia, certainly, and Vatch of course."

Vatch beamed, thrusting his mug into the air as if in victory. Water splashed him and made him pin his ears back. "Vatch win!"

"Don't feel bad," Valyrym told Thomas and Kaylen. "We can get the Queen's bird to carry you two."

"Oooh!" Kaylen squealed, balling up her fists in front of her face. If Valyrym meant it as an insult it clearly backfired as she bounced upon the burgundy carpet in unbridled glee. "I'd love to ride a gryphon!"

"What?" Valyrym curled his neck, hissing. "What about riding a dragon?"

"I've already done that," Kaylen said dismissively. "Now I want to ride a gryphon."

"You haven't ridden a dragon into the skies," Valyrym insisted, his tail coiling slightly.

"But I've ridden you around the prison, I'm sure it's all the same." Kaylen waggled her fingers as if brushing away the entire idea. "Besides, I'm sure gryphons are much better flyers anyway."

Valyrym narrowed his eyes, growling low in his throat. His wings twitched as though they felt insulted by the very concept. "They most certainly are not. They spend more time telling you how well they can fly than they do actually flying in the first place. Dragons are certainly the superior flyers."

"That's not what you told the Queen," Alia giggled, poking Valyrym's chest plates. "Or me."

"You keep that up, and you'll be riding the bird too." Valyrym abruptly opened his wing and curled it partly around himself to cover Alia. "No more out of you."

"Hey," Alia complained, pushing at the dragon's wing. "Let me out of here."

"When you apologize."

"For what?" Alia tried to wriggle her way free, but Valyrym tightened his wing around her. "I'm not the one who said dragons can't fly as well as gryphons."

"You just did! Even if you weren't the first one to bring it up." Valyrym glowered at Kaylen, flaring his spines. Kaylen utterly ignored him and instead began to fidget with the sleeves of Thomas' shirt. He batted at her, and Valyrym grunted. He didn't like being ignored when he was acting like a brat. "Someone apologize to me!"

"Vatch sorry," the Urd'thin said, rising to his feet.

Valyrym licked his nose. "That's a start."

Vatch stretched his arms up over his head, his tail fluffing out behind himself. He yawned and his pink tongue curled inside his vaguely canine-ish muzzle. "Vatch sorry dragon not fly as good as gryphon."

"Oh you can all kiss my stones." Valyrym huffed, then began to squirm and fidget as Alia brushed her finger pads over the inside of his wing membranes. His wing twitched at the ticklish assault. "Stop that!" Valyrym's wing twitched again and he found himself retracting it just to pull it away from Alia's fingers. "Stop that at once!"

As soon as there was a chance to wriggle free of his grasp, Alia did just that. She squirmed loose of his fore leg and then danced away from the dragon to join her friends as Valyrym rolled over onto his belly again.

Valyrym hissed at everyone, folding his wings tightly against his body. "No fair tickling my wings."

"Aww, did Alia find a ticklish spot on the dragon?" Kaylen cooed to him, sticking out her tongue.

Alia smirked. "He's got a few of them."

"Yes, I seem to recall you demonstrating that for me."

"And it's a good thing too," snapped the dragon. "Once Alia's not here, you're going to be expected to pick up the slack in other areas, too. So I hope you recall the particulars of that lesson."

"Not much to it as I recall," Kaylen said, grinning at Alia. "A few quick moments of a little rubbing and you were spent. Rather anti-climactic really."

"At his age that's about the best he can do," Alia said right back to her friend, giggling.

Valyrym pushed himself up onto his haunches, curling his tail around his paws. He gave a dramatic sigh, hanging his head and flattening out his spines. "I don't know why I let you all down here. All you ever do is tease me."

"And you love us for it," Alia said, patting the dragon's nose. She smiled at him a moment, and when Valyrym soon returned the smile, Alia moved to take his head and hug him tightly against her body. She stroked his pebbly scales, and soon the old dragon was gently purring for her. The sound oozed from his throat, softer than usual as though the stone-filled barrel she often imagined his purr resembling had been lined with velvet. "You'll be alright, Valyrym. I won't be gone that long, and then you'll have me all to yourself, for the rest of my life."

"The rest of my life too, I think," the dragon said softly. Alia knew his years better than he did, but he knew well enough his body was slowly wearing down. Even dragons had their limits, and he had been here a long time without proper exercise and nutrition. Age would take its toll even faster on him than it would a free, healthy dragon.

"That's not so bad, is it?" Alia asked, pressing her forehead to his muzzle. "To grow old together?"

"No Alia, it is not." Valyrym's voice began to grow a little hoarse. He resented getting emotional in front of anyone but Alia, but he was starting to get used to it lately. "I would be ever so grateful to any Gods or Fates who saw fit to let me watch you age alongside me for the rest of my days."

"And we shall do so in freedom," Alia said, stroking the dragon's jaw. "Wherever your son lives, that is where we shall live, if he will allow it."

"If the Queen..."

"Damn the Queen," Alia said sharply. "If Kathlyn doesn't let you go, Valyrym, I will free you myself. I told you, the winds have carried me here to tell you that you've suffered enough. And they have also brought me here to bring you at last to freedom."

Valyrym chuckled a little at that pleasant thought. A lovely warmth blossomed in his heart and poured through his body like a fresh spring oozing hot water. "And how do you plan to do that, if the Queen denies your bid?"

Alia kissed the dragon's nose then pulled her head back to give him a cryptic smile. "You shall have to wait and see. But suffice it to say, I am hard at work upon a viable backup plan."

Valyrym slowly cocked his head, lowering his eye ridges. His voice was flat. "Are you then?"

"I am," Alia said, patting his nose. She turned around, swishing her skirt in the dragon's face. "As of this moment, I am also hard at work on the idea of throwing a party down here."

"A party?" Valyrym snorted at her attempts to change the subject. Still, he had to admit he was intrigued. Damn it Alia, he thought. Why must she be so good at redirecting him? "What manner of party? If you're planning to invite half the castle down here in their ball gowns and finery, I shall have to deny it. My home is filled with enough fools lately as it is."

"That's alright, Valyrym," Thomas said, smiling at the dragon. "I don't think you'd look good in a ball gown, either."

"You couldn't find a gown big enough for my balls." The dragon smirked to himself, lifting his spines a little.

"That's not what a ball gown..." Alia began, then abandoned the attempt. "Oh, never mind. That's not the sort of party I was talking about, anyway." Alia climbed down off the ledge, looking around the dragon's prison. "I meant, a party just for us. One of my last nights here. We've talked about Kaylen cooking dinner for us, right? Well, why not do that next week, before I have to leave? We can all help her make something truly special for Valyrym, and we can all sit around and talk and tease each other. We can drink, and celebrate, and eat cake." Alia spun back towards the others. "Like the very first night I brought Thomas and Kaylen down here, only this time we won't have anything to be sad about. We'll just enjoy ourselves."

"So, a going away party for you," Kaylen said, following Alia down off the ledge.

"I rather like that idea," Thomas said, pushing himself up to his feet. He finished off his water and set his mug aside.

"Yes, a going away party," Alia replied, smiling. "And when I come back, we can throw another one, just because."

"Vatch can come too?" Vatch got to the edge of the ledge, and Thomas helped him down to the ground. "Vatch never go to party before."

"Yes, of course you can come, Vatch," Alia said. She worked at a ruffle in her blue dress, mulling things over. "Do you think we should invite Enric?"

Valyrym tossed his head. "Why don't we just invite the Queen herself while we're at it."

"I would, but she might be gone by then," Alia said, laughing. "Though I bet it would be delightful fun to see her and that pompous black feathered friend of hers get stumbling drunk."

Valyrym rose to all four paws, and followed the others off the ledge. As he climbed down he swished his spined tail like a cat contemplating whether to meow for attention or bite someone. "This is your idea, then? To spend your last night here with some sort of drunken festivity?"

"Actually," Alia said, a playful grin creeping across her lips. "I was thinking the party might be my second to last night here. I thought I might rather have the place all to myself on my last night here."

"Ah," Valyrym said, nodding. The dragon smiled to himself. "I rather like that idea."

"As do I," Alia said. "It'll give me a chance to cuddle with Val Junior."

"Oh, I'll give you something cuddly alright," Valyrym said with a playful snarl, baring his fangs.

Alia tapped a finger against her chin. "Yes, I suppose I could snuggle on Cuddly Korvarak, as well."

"I'll give you something...snuggly..." Valyrym grunted, then huffed a sigh. "Alia, it has been too stressful a day for me to keep coming up with euphemisms."

Alia couldn't help laughing at that. She gave Val's head a hug, stroking one of his spiny crests a moment. "Do you like the idea, though? I know we'd talked about having Kaylen cook you a lovely meal, and we do all seem to get along well enough now I thought you might enjoy having everyone spend the night that way."

Valyrym murmured a little bit, then smiled at her. "Yes. I do quite like that idea." He gently pressed his wedge-shaped head against Alia's body for a moment, closing his eyes. "It has been a very long time since I...simply spent an evening with friends." He swallowed hard, a little lump forming in his throat. "With...with _my_friends. I would...enjoy that immensely."

"Then it's settled. In just under a week, we all help Kaylen cook, and then we get drunk off our scaly, furry, and soft asses." Alia laughed to herself.

Valyrym laughed with her, savoring her warmth, and her love. He lifted a paw and gently stroked her back. For a moment he wished he could stay like that forever. Perhaps, soon enough, he could. Three months. It was not so bad. He could make do without Alia for three months, in return for spending the rest of his life with her.

Yes. He liked the sound of that.

The rest of his days with Alia.

Still smiling at that idea, Valyrym lifted his head. "Come. I want to show you all something I've started carving recently, since the Queen's visit."

"Oh?" Alia rubbed his neck, and began to walk alongside the old dragon. She stroked his neck as they crossed the chamber, with the others following behind them. "And what's that?"

"My son," Valyrym said, his smile growing. "Flying."

"Ah," Alia said reverently, smiling up at him. "I was wondering what you'd started working on over there."

"Yes," Valyrym murmured to himself. "After...she told me he can fly, I found myself dreaming of Valar. I don't know how accurate my image of him as an adult is, but...I felt inspired. After I show you, we shall have a toast, I think, while I've still some good rum left."

"And what shall we be toasting, my lovely dragon?" Alia patted his shoulder, gesturing for the others to catch up to them.

Valyrym turned his head to smile back at Alia as they walked. For once his golden eyes shone only with love, and hope.

"The rest of our days."

---

Chapter Four

---

Queen Kathlyn of Illandra smiled to herself as she listened to the rustling leaves all around her. She stood in the midst of her personal garden oasis atop one of the famous five towers of the keep at the heart of Illandra. The trial had taken a lot out of her, and though she still had preparations to make, she needed a little time to relax and collect her thoughts. Her garden always helped to center her. She'd retreated there not long after dismissing everyone from the court, and having Bownen ferry some documents to Alia involving the details of her punishment.

Kathlyn's heart sank. She hated having to do that to poor Alia. The woman didn't deserve that sort of punishment. As far as Kathlyn was concerned, Alia didn't deserve any punishment at all. But laws were laws, and now more than ever she had to show her people she was willing to support those laws. She'd already stretched them a little with her creative punishment in order to keep Alia out of the dungeons herself. Yet the rule of law was important to Kathlyn, and much as it pained her she had to set an example. Letting Alia go totally unpunished would have been abusing her power and position.

It wasn't that bad, really. Alia would return to her position before Kathlyn had even returned from her upcoming journey. Hopefully then she'd have good news to share with Alia. She'd come to like that young Aran'alian woman. If the first round of negotiations for the liberation of some of Illandra's provinces were successful she would want Alia and her dragon to be among the first to know after her ministers. Then would come the more difficult task of informing the rest of Illandra.

Still, Kathlyn had worked throughout her monarchy to try and position herself as a trusted ruler. Issuing punishment to Alia even when she hoped it was clear that Armadine was just as much in the wrong would show people she continued to respect the laws of the land set down long before she took the throne. That was just as important to Kathlyn as trying to make things right.

Kathlyn paused to savor the warm, gentle breeze that blew through the many trees and flowerbeds covering the top of the tower. The wind brought with it the scents of sage and lilac and apple blossoms. Some days it was very windy atop the tower, but today the breeze was as soft as Krek's feathers. That made Kathlyn smile. If only the old bird was here now, he'd certainly help improve her mood.

Wanting to feel the breeze all across her body Kathlyn twirled in place, a half-full watering can in her grasp. The soft, loosely fitting cream colored sundress she wore swirled around her. Red hair streaked with gray billowed about her face, allowed to hang wherever it pleased now that she'd had a chance to take off the crown. If any of her guards were paying the least bit of attention, they knew well enough not to make any snide remarks about her moments of playful behavior.

Kathlyn smiled to herself as she thought of Krek. She poured some water from the green painted vessel into the gray stone planter of a large apple tree. Thick green moss coated the planter in a few places, nourished by the frequent watering the apples got and sheltered by the shade of the boughs. Kathlyn reached down and ran her fingers against the soft, damp moss, thoughts drifting to Krek and his mission. By now he'd probably already reached Denoria and that little village where Valar lived. Surely Krek was hoping to get his old friend to talk Kylaryn out of...

"I thought I might find you here." The slightly resigned voice of Kathlyn's only son drew her from her thoughts before they grew too dark. Still, she suspected that very subject was what her son had come to discuss. "Lot of damn stairs, though. If anyone ever asks me what I attribute my mothers continued good health to I shall tell them it is because she spends most of her days climbing and descending every stair case in the whole castle."

Kathlyn smiled to herself a little bit. She turned slightly to water another tree, and waved her free hand towards her son. "Hello, Elvir."

"Hello, mother," the prince replied. "Do you need some help with that?"

"I could use a few more watering cans full of water, if you don't mind."

The prince grunted. But Kathlyn soon heard some cans rattle as Elvir picked up a few empty ones, and vanished back down into the tower to fill them up with water from the barrels kept within. After Kathlyn poured the last of the water in the can she held into the tree, she walked to the nearest guard and shoved the can into his armored chest. Without a word, the guard descended the stairs beneath the trap door to fill up that watering vessel as well.

As Kathlyn waited for her son to reemerge she pulled her hair back behind her head. Yet she had nothing to tie it with, and as soon as she let it go the breeze was buffeting it back around her face. She tried to smooth out and adjust her dress against her body, but the wind was blowing it around just the same. After a moment's effort she sighed and gave in. It wasn't as though her son had never seen her looking less than regal before.

The prince soon crested the stairs bearing several full watering cans, one of dark wood and another of simple tin. He handed the wooden can to his mother, and kept the tin one for himself. Soon Elvir was looking around for plants in need of watering. He attended some droopy looking blue and purple flowers while his mother returned to watering some of the trees. Kathlyn knew he'd come up here for a reason, but if she pressed him for it he'd only get cross with her. Best to let him bring things up at his own pace.

Now and then she glanced over at him. The prince had taken after Kathlyn in many ways. He had the same red hair she'd had in her youth, though that was a common enough trait to many Illandran families. The hints of curl to the prince's hair were definitely from his mother's side, as were the dark, piercingly blue eyes he possessed. The stout structure of his face, sturdy cheek bones and sharp nose all came from his father. Prince Elvir had also inherited the strength of his father's body, a soldier's build that while not massive by any stretch was still strong and firm no matter how many evenings the prince spent drinking with his often idiotic friends.

Kathlyn saw his father in Elvir now and then. A twinge of old pain clenched her heart for a moment as she looked at her son. All these years later and she still missed his father. He'd never even gotten to see his son. Kathlyn liked to think that Elvir's father would have been proud of him. But he'd probably be disappointed to know his son so often associated with men like Armadine. Still, Kathlyn was doing what she could to try and wean her son from the influence of his more poisonous friends. Hopefully today he'd gotten a better idea of what she meant when she spoke of Armadine's less reputable behaviors.

When Kathlyn had exhausted her supply of water, the guard she'd sent for more approached and swapped her wooden can for the green-painted one he'd just refilled. She thanked him, and sent him on his way to fill up the wooden one again. Kathlyn began to water a long, narrow wooden planter. A crisscrossing trellis was anchored into the dirt, wreathed heavily with dark green leaves from the bramble that crawled across it. A few blackberries clung to the vine here and there, with many more berries just beginning to develop amidst a lingering scattering of small white flowers. Kathlyn plucked a berry and popped it into her mouth. The delightful sweetness made her murmur. She took another one, glancing towards her son.

"Have a few of these berries, Elvir, they're lovely."

"I didn't come here to eat berries," Elvir said sullenly. The half emptied tin watering can now sat atop a baked-clay planter, as forgotten as the sage bush he'd once intended to water. Given how shrouded it was in healthy purple flowers, it could probably go a little while longer without water, anyway. "You were too hard on him."

"Is that really what you've come here to talk to me about?" Kathlyn asked, eating another berry.

Elvir scowled, idly tugging at one of the gold hemmed sleeves of his rich purple tunic. "Don't change the subject, Mother."

"I suspect you have a second subject in mind for discussion already." Kathlyn clucked her tongue, then chuckled. She walked to the prince and began to water the sage bush he'd forgotten about. "But if that is what you wish to discuss first, then I will inform you that if I wished to be hard on Armadine I'd have had him thrown in a dungeon."

"He was not the one in trial," Elvir insisted, grinding his teeth. "And yet you let that woman drag him through..."

"No more so than he did to her," Kathlyn cut the prince off. "Armadine is the one who asked to have the charges presented, and Armadine is the one who chose to spend all of his time blathering about her personal life and her history and doing all he could to embarrass her. After he'd spent so much time ridiculing her in front of everyone, I could not fairly prevent her from offering the same sort of details on her own behalf, now could I."

"I suppose not," Elvir muttered. "But he did not deserve to be humiliated in front of the whole court that way."

"Neither did Alia," the Queen said, giving her son a long look. "And yet Armadine chose to spend his time doing exactly that. It was almost as if he only wished to press these charges in the first place to get a chance to publicly humiliate the woman."

"I think that's a bit exaggerated."

"If all he cared about was the end result, why did he request the noble families and wealthy houses to be in attendance? The law allows him to present his case to me in private, if he truly wished it, with only Alia in attendance to present her own defense. Instead he chose a public trial, as I suspected he would, because that man cares more about his image and the image of others than he does the law itself. You heard the way he dragged her through the mire, Elvir." Kathlyn reached out and gently squeezed her son's shoulder. "I know he is your friend, and I know you are loyal to your friends. As you rightly should be. But surely even you can see that Armadine is in the wrong here."

Elvir scowled, though he knew his mother was right, much as he hated to admit it. "Still. You should have cut that horrible woman off long before you did."

"Come now," Kathlyn said, patting his arm. "She's hardly a horrible woman. Your friend deserved the battering she gave him, and she's done nothing but an exemplary job since I gave her the position." She smirked a little bit. "You cannot hold it against her that she has proved you and Armadine and the others wrong. I shall not make you admit that an Aran'alian has performed the job better than any Illandran, because I'm sure you have already admitted as much to yourself."

The prince snorted. He fidgeted with his purple tunic a moment, then folded his arms over his broad chest. Elvir narrowed his blue eyes, glaring at his mother. "Perhaps that has less to do with her actual ability to perform her job, and more to do with the way she...performs upon the dragon."

Kathlyn set the watering can down and straightened up. Her own deep azure eyes flashed in anger. "Don't you even start, Elvir. Alia has been belittled enough today."

"How am I belittling her?" Elvir grit his teeth, not backing down. "You heard her admit it herself. She has..." His face twisted up in disgust as he forced himself to spit out the words. "She has sex with that dragon. It's revolting."

"It has nothing to do with you," Kathlyn said, waving her hand at the city below. "And I shouldn't have anything to do with them, either. Armadine had no right whatsoever to bring that up, regardless of the truth of it. It held no bearing upon his case, and served only to humiliate the poor girl. Which proves my point about him."

"I would argue it does have bearing," Elvir said, though his voice softened. "If the only reason she's actually succeeded at this job is because she's whoring herself to this dragon."

Kathlyn shook her finger in Elvir's face, fighting the urge to slap him. "Then by that logic your implication is that she has also been whoring herself out to every butcher, servant master, engineer, woodworker, and everyone else whom she has procured services from since the moment she took office. Given that she's reduced contract rates in all areas, and has somehow found a way to save this country money despite actually doing more to benefit and placate her prisoner than any previous warden." As Kathlyn spoke her voice rose steadily. Her cheeks flushed hot, her eyes grew darker till the usually placid azure hue nearly a stormy purple. "Is that your implication, my son? Shall we go and visit them one by one, and ask them if they've cut us better rates because Alia Silverrain has let them bend her over their desk? Because if that is a genuine suspicion of yours I feel we should address it immediately."

"Point taken, mother," Elvir said, backing down a little.

"You should read Enric's reports," Kathlyn insisted, her voice still hot. "In fact, you are to read them. All of them."

"Mother..."

"Tonight."

"But, mother..."

"I am serious, Elvir." Kathlyn's eyes bored into her son's. "I think your personal feelings have been clouded long enough. You have heard me give evidence on her behalf, but I wish you to read the reports themselves. I shall have them sent to your desk immediately." She summoned over one of the guards, and gave him instructions to do just that. "I do not care what you think of the woman, nor do I care what you think of her actions with the dragon as they occur in private. But Alia will be returning to her Warden Office long before I have returned from my journey to the Twenty Fourth province. During which time you shall be acting King, and I want you to understand just why she has been given the job permanently. I hardly expect you to embrace her or call her friend, but I have every expectation that you will respect her as Warden and the job she is doing. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Mother," Elvir muttered sounding more like a child being punished than a prince being given an order. "I still don't think it's right what she does."

"No, I'm sure you don't," Kathlyn said, sighing. Some of her anger began to abate, and she squeezed her son's shoulder a moment. "Nor will I ask you too. I would simply ask you to respect the woman and her office, and to consider the fact that her private life is none of your concern."

"I wonder if you would feel differently if not for Krek," Elvir said softly. He meant it not as an insult, but as something for his mother to consider.

Kathlyn scowled a little bit. She released the prince's shoulder, and moved to sit upon a shady bench beneath a willow tree that took up a large spot in her garden. She leaned back against the bench and gave a little sigh. "I rather doubt that I would feel her private life or what she did in it was my business if I had never met the gryphon. But if I would have, than that is yet another reason for me to thank the Gods for bringing us together." She glanced up at her son, giving him a long look. "The first reason of course, is still you."

Elvir frowned, knitting his brows together. He hated when she brought that up in this discussion. It seemed so utterly unfair of her. Any time he suggested she cut off her unnatural dalliance with the creature once and for all, she inevitably reminded him that not only had the gryphon saved her life, but Elvir's life as well. After all, he'd still been in her belly at the time.

"You know I will always be grateful to the gryphon for saving you, Mother, and by extension me." Elvir joined her on the bench, settling in next to his mother. "I just wish he had done so without...luring you to some sort of...lurid, unnatural affair."

Kathlyn chuckled to herself. "He hardly lured me into anything, Elvir."

"And a creature of a different species who is hardly ever around, hardly makes a suitable father figure growing up." Elvir folded his arms, looking off through the garden.

"That isn't what this is about, and we both know it." Kathlyn folded her hands in her lap, staring at them. Her throat tightened a little. There were days she wished ever so much she had done better by her son. Days she felt as though she'd failed him somehow. Elvir's father died before he'd been born, and though there had been other men in Kathlyn's life after him, it was always...It was always Krek she came back to, despite the secrecy that surrounded them. "I am...sorry, though. For the way things worked out."

Elvir turned his eyes to his mother, his expression softening when he caught her blinking away a tear or two. "I know, mother. But even to this day, regardless of how you may feel about the..." He tried not to spit the word out like poison, if only to spare his mother's feelings. "Bird." It wasn't that he hated Krek, how could he after all the bird had done for them? He simply hated what he felt Krek had done to his mother. "...Surely there are other men you could turn to for companionship. What about Paulson?" Elvir gently nudged his mother. "I always liked him, even when I was a child."

Kathlyn chuckled and gave a little sigh. She smiled wistfully for a moment. "Yes, Paulson is a good man. A very good man. But...the heart wants what it wants, my love. And Krek has meant so much to me over the years..."

"Then you should listen to him this time," Elvir said with sudden sharpness.

"Hmm?" Kathlyn didn't catch his meaning at first. She was too lost in her own thoughts to realize that her son had finally broached the subject he'd really come here to discuss. "What do you mean?"

Elvir put his hand atop Kathlyn's, squeezing it. "You should not go on this journey. The gryphon opposes it wholeheartedly. As much as he and I may have our disagreements, I trust his judgment. He knows more about this sort of thing than almost anyone. If he thinks it is too dangerous for you to make this trip right now, then for once he and I are in complete agreement."

"Ah," Kathlyn murmured, leaning back against her chair. "I suspected you would have some objections."

"Some objections?" Elvir perked his brows, trying not to laugh at the understated nature of that. "If objections were a resource that could be counted, I would have all of them, Mother. Krek left me documents detailing his fears, Mother, and you know how much he hates to let me in on any of his secrets. So you know how strongly he must feel about this. I must assume you know he fears a dragon is going to try and kill you?"

"Someone is always trying to kill me, Elvir," Kathlyn said, a hint of bitterness creeping into her voice. "And at this moment, Krek himself is off trying to find out if there is truth to this rumor or not. And if there is, he will do what he can to stop it."

"What does that mean?" Elvir ran a hand back over his head. "Don't tell me he's going to try and find this dragon and talk them out of it."

"Krek is good at that sort of thing."

"He's also good at pissing people off." Elvir growled a little, then held his hand up towards his mother. "Krek is not the point. You are the point. You need to stay home until this is all sorted out."

"And if it is never sorted out?"

"Then...you..."

"I cannot hide in the castle, Elvir." Kathlyn smoothed out her dress against her knees, sighing. "You know as well as I that Illandra is at risk of collapse. Not immediately, but in the near future. If not in my lifetime, then certainly in yours. All the sins we have committed as conquerors are hanging over our heads, my son. We can work to absolve them, or we can let them crush us as they have crushed so many empires in the past."

"I understand your obsession with history, mother, and I know you want to do the right thing. But what good are you going to do anyone if you get yourself killed on some hare-brained attempt to free a province that is likely to be profoundly ungrateful anyway?"

Kathlyn only chuckled. "You won't want to hear this, but you sound just like..."

"Don't say it," Elvir snorted.

Kathlyn said it anyway. "...Krek. He said almost the same things to me when he tried to talk me out of going. Only, he framed it in such a way as to ensure that I believed in myself, in my own ideas. He helped me confirm that this was the right thing to do. The only thing to do."

"Of course he did," Elvir said, bitterly folding his arms. "At least wait for him to return. I saw that you already had his armor laid out and waiting. At least have him there to protect you."

"I am waiting long as I dare, my love." Kathlyn leaned her head back, closing her eyes. "I have appointments with Aran'alia that I will risk endangering if I do not leave within a week or two. I cannot build trust with them by treating them as though they are a secondary concern. Krek knows my route, and his wings are far swifter than any horse. He will catch up soon enough."

"And if it is too late? If...If you are..." Elvir couldn't bring himself to say it. Saying it out loud would make it seem all the more real.

"Then I will pray for you, my son. And I will pray for this country, that you will do the right thing."

"You cannot pray if you are dead, Mother." Elvir grit his teeth, his throat tightening. Damn it. He didn't even want to think about that.

"You know what I mean," Kathlyn said softly. "If worst comes to worst, I hope that you will follow the right path. Do not let your heart be clouded by anger, or the poison your misguided friends spew. I know what they would tell you to do, and I also know that this country cannot afford another war now. If the worst happens, and you decide to take revenge by leading us into war, then our enemies will join the fray against us. And you will be leading Illandra into ruin."

"Then let us hope it does not come to that."

"If it does," Kathlyn said softly. She reached out and gently took Elvir's hand between both of her own, squeezing it. "Then I believe in you, Elvir. I believe in your heart you truly know what is right. I believe you will make the right choice."

Elvir sighed, and slowly leaned his head against his mother. He closed his eyes. "Just...promise me you'll be safe, Mother."

Kathlyn kissed her son on the head, squeezing his hand. "I shall do my very best."

---

Chapter Five

---

Krek marveled as Valaranyx flew. Valar's wings stretched only as far as comfort would allow as the young dragon soared over rocky bluffs and craggy foothills. His flight was not graceful, and he could not soar and glide as smoothly as other dragons. Yet to Krek, Valar's flight was no less a thing of beauty and strength.

For several days Valar led Krek through the skies until at last they were nearing the place where Kylaryn dwelled. Krek could have outpaced the dragon easily and yet he hung back out of respect for his oldest friend. Not that the gryphon was looking forward to reaching their destination. This was not going to be a happy reunion for Valar and his mother. Krek just hoped it did not end in bloodshed.

Yet whatever was to come, Krek was happy to cherish what time he had left with Valar. Krek would have followed Valar anywhere if Valar but asked him. In all the great world, Kathlyn was the only one Krek respected as much as Valar. The gryphon relished the chance to watch his friend fly again. Krek was happy to let Valar lead him the entire trip just so he could watch the black and blue dragon fly.

Strange that such ungainly flight could be such a thing of beauty. Krek could hardly imagine overcoming such an injury. Every time Valar beat his wings it must have hurt and yet the pain rarely showed on the young dragon's face. To have the very way he moved altered forever at such a young age was something Krek could scarcely understand. The gryphon sometimes thought that Valar must take to the skies by sheer willpower alone. If Valar ever lost his wings entirely Krek was sure he'd still find a way to convince the wind to carry him aloft.

The strength and determination Krek saw in Valar's golden, silver flecked eyes was a thing of wonder. From the moment they had first met it was something that fascinated the gryphon. Something that he would grow to model himself after. It had altered the very course of his life, and in time, the course of Kathlyn's life. He doubted Valar would ever take credit for it, though. For a dragon, Valar was remarkably humble. So long as the topic was not his sexual prowess, but Krek could hardly blame him for bragging about that.

Krek blinked, images playing through his mind as he flew. The gryphon could never forget the day he met Valar. How he'd flown loops around that young, seemingly crippled dragon. How Krek had taunted Valar as he took from the dragon and his human friends. He'd taken from those humans many times before the dragon finally came to try and stop him. A lot of good that first attempt had done Valar and his allies. About as much good as the alliance that Krek had made with that group of thieves in the first place. Of course Krek never would have thought a crippled dragon could track him down after all that. Krek smirked, then winced, rubbing the old scar on his chest.

Valar glanced back at him, calling out over the winds. "We're almost there." Then he spotted Krek's paw upon the gray scar that marked his chest. "Stop thinking so negatively, Krek!"

Krek only smiled. "I wasn't." He tucked his paw up against his body, banking to the left when Valar began to do the same. Wind rustled all his long black and silver edged flight feathers. "Just old memories. I'd almost forgotten how beautiful a sight it is to watch you fly!"

"I rather doubt that," Valar said with a laugh, turning himself in the air in a slightly ungainly fashion. "You sound like my mother, when I was younger. She used to tell me there was nothing more beautiful than watching me fly."

"I know," Krek said, laughing. "You've told me that many times. She and I used to agree about that." Not the only thing they used to agree on. Krek sighed to himself, beating his wings a few times to fly up alongside Valar. "Things were a lot simpler back then."

"Maybe," Valar said, glancing over, his golden eyes slightly glazed by his flight membranes. "Or maybe it just seems that way. She was always plotting something, even back then. She just had her children to worry about first." He flicked his spined tail towards his friend's tufted one. "She thought I was an idiot for taking a gryphon as a friend."

"And here I thought she was proud of you for saving me," Krek said with a little laugh.

"Oh she was!" Valar grinned at his friend. "Very proud! She just thought I should have slapped you on your feathered ass and sent you on your way as soon as you were healed."

"You did one of those things," Krek called back, laughing. He flexed his silver edged wings a little, banking away. "I think she just didn't like seeing me outwit you all the time!"

"That might be true, if that had ever happened!"

Krek smiled to himself, flaring out his wings a little to slow down. As Valar retook the lead Krek gazed out across the lands they traversed. The sun was sinking ever lower towards the mountains in the distance. The dragon and gryphon now flew above a wild land whose name was as lost as the empire that once governed it. Whatever the place was once called it had long since collapsed into little more than a collection of scattered city-states that speckled the rugged, often inhospitable landscape.

Up ahead of them, a city lay nestled against the rugged, gray mountains and the red stone bluffs interspersed amongst them. There was a fan shaped sprawl of buildings and streets that spread out through the foothills and into the flatter lands beyond. A verdant blue river cut a serpentine line through rocky bluffs above and thick forests beyond the city. A single road stretched out from the city and soon rose and fell across the gentlest section of hills and slopes beyond. Even at a distance, Krek could see that much more of the city was actually carved into the mountains themselves. Buildings were cut into the stone in terraced levels well up into the mountain. The stone work was ancient yet very well maintained by the current inhabitants.

Krek had heard the place referred to as the City Of Stairs in some of the secrets he'd gathered over the years. It seemed a fitting moniker. Such an impressive city might once have been the capital of that long vanished empire though there were likely few scholars left who knew for certain. Still, it made suitable location for a successful city-state.

Further up into the mountains stood what was left of the citadel that long ago stood guard over the terraced city. It looked as though it was once a very impressive place. A towering and imposing fortress carved directly into the mountainside, built to be nearly impenetrable in case of invasion. Many centuries later much of it was falling into ruin. Several once-elegant towers carved in peaks of stone had long since collapsed, marking the mountainside with immense, ring-shaped debris. Trees grew from old windows cut in the rock, their trunks gnarled and twisted against the stone window frames. Hills of broken stone scree were all that remained of what had once been the old castle's entry point and courtyard.

A fairly impressive castle still remained above the ruins. Several sections remained mostly intact, including the large central keep carved from the mountain's granite heart and two smaller structures on either side of it. Recently constructed walkways spanned the area between the three buildings. As they drew near enough for Krek's sharp vision to make out finer details, the gryphon realized some of the stone windows in the mountain had wooden shutters. He saw doors at the ends of the walkways, as well, and he saw movement along one of them.

"Are there people in that old broken fortress?"

"Of course," Valar said, tossing his head.

"Why are there people up there?"

"Why do you think?" Valar said, snorting. "To help repair the damn place, of course."

"But how did they get all the way up there?" He clacked his beak. "Are there still tunnels and things leading up there? I guess the citadel isn't as ruined as it looks."

"My mother likes to hide things in plain sight," Valar muttered.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Valar snorted, snapping his jaws. "She prefers it look ruined when it is in fact, nearly impenetrable. The entry hall and courtyard are gone, which makes it nearly impossible to reach on foot. There are tunnels, yes, but the average Illandran would think the place impossible to enter without wings. Which is half the idea. The other half is that while it may seem ready to collapse, she's had enough structural engineers in there to tell her it's safe for her family." Valar waved his paw. "It's carved out of a damn mountain. Most of the place is inside, anyway."

"Are you telling me your mother has put her lair inside a fortress carved into a mountain?"

"You know, for a bird who claims to know just about everything, you sure don't seem to know where my mother lives."

Krek ruffled his feathers, not that Valar could tell with the way the wind was flattening them out. "I knew she lived out here. I didn't know she'd decided to move into a castle."

"It's just a fancy cave, really," Valar said dismissively. "I lived in plenty of caves growing up, after we fled Sigil Stones. You know that. Besides, what is a house if not a cave made of wood? This one's just a lot bigger, and harder to conquer."

"And carved by men instead of nature," Krek grumbled. "Still, an impressive lair she's taken to keeping."

"Headquarters," Valar said, a sneer creeping into his voice. "That would be her headquarters."

"Ah," Krek swallowed, glancing down at the city they were quickly approaching. All around the city checkered stretches of farmland covered the hills where the forests were cleared away ages ago to construct homes and make room for crops. "So what is this place called, anyway?" Then he amended himself. "I mean, I realize it is often called the City Of Stairs, but what do the locals call it? I don't want to hear whatever silly dragon name you've given it like, Mountain House."

Valar began to subtly descend towards the city. "The locals call it Amira."

Krek cocked his head, following Valar as he slowly descended. "I've heard that before."

"I'm sure you have. My mother didn't exactly move here yesterday, you know."

"No," Krek said, chuckling. "But once she knew about Kathlyn and I, I was hardly a welcome guest."

"No," Valar said. "You were not. Which is why we are descending."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know who's here right now. If my siblings see you in the skies, they might think you're following me." Valar blinked, then glanced back. "I mean, you are following me, but they may think you are doing so without my permission. Or they might just want a chance to strike at the Wings of Illandra while they have the chance." Valar glared at his friend a moment. "So we'll land, I'll roar, we'll see who's around, and then you'll follow me nice and meek up to the citadel. Unless mother's in the town instead."

"Is she often in town?"

"She lived in the town a while, before she took to the citadel. Before she decided the city needed a new headquarters."

"Who rules this city-state, anyway?"

Valar began to laugh. He shook his head a little. Krek really didn't know as much as he thought. "My mother."

Krek made a face as they swept in low over the outer wall around the city. Armored soldiers patrolled along the broad walkway that spanned it. Tall, well fortified stone watchtowers marked the wall at evenly spaced increments. Krek counted at least four archers with their arrows trained on the black gryphon as he flew past them. Heavy bells tolled in the distance, their calls soon echoed by others. Krek grit his beak. He had not expected a warm welcome but perhaps this was one of those times where he stretched his own cleverness a little too thin.

"So does that make you one of this city's rulers, as well?" Krek called out, teasing his friend.

"Yes," Valar said in clipped reply.

"Oh," Krek said. He hadn't really expected that answer. "Then why haven't you moved here with your family? You could patch things up with your mother."

Valar seemed to ignore the question as he flew over the city. Now that they were flying right over the top of it Krek could see the city was larger than he'd first realized. The lower city that spanned out across the ground seemed to be comprised of an even mixture of old stone buildings and much more modern wooden buildings. The main streets were all lined with shops and smithies belching smoke, taverns and restaurants and inns that likely catered mostly to traveling merchants and traders from the other city-states. Valar flew straight down the main street, and a few people passing below called out greetings. Krek didn't hear the dragon's name used, but clearly the people here recognized Valar despite his limited visits. Krek also suspected the town was on friendly terms with just about any visiting dragon.

Valar alighted upon one of the wide circular plazas that served as hubs throughout the city. Rather than cobblestone, the plaza was paved in a multitude of wide flagstones. The flagstones held a variety of colors and from above it was clear that they formed an image that spanned across the plaza. That image was a flight of dragons that looked as though they were circling around the open court, offering protection. Krek landed a little ways behind Valar, glancing around. The plaza was quickly emptying out as the warning bells tolled, but that didn't stop a few people from calling out to Valar before they vanished indoors.

"They seem to like your kind here," he murmured, scratching idly at one of the flagstones.

"They like my kind in Denoria," Valar grumbled, turning around to glare at Krek. Krek thought the dragon was going to ignore his earlier question, but it seemed it weighed heavier on Valar's mind than expected. "Why should I wish to drag my mate and daughter away from the peaceful home they love? We are happy there. I have no desire to rule anyone. You think I want to sit around on my tail all day, counting coins and appropriating trade agreements with neighboring states? Or subject my daughter to calls for revenge and talk of war? I live where I live, Krek, because it is peaceful there. I have seen what war and revenge bring about, and I want nothing to do with that. You think I want my daughter to go through what I went through?" Valar bared his fangs, flaring up his spines. "The fact my mother lied to me about my father's fate is not the only reason I scarcely speak to her. My mother presses on with this pointless war. Look around you, Krek. Look at the symbols. This is not the place I wish to raise my daughter."

Valar snorted, and turned away. He took a few limping steps away from Krek, towards the center of the plaza. Krek slowly gazed around them. The plaza was ringed by old stone buildings kept in good condition throughout the many centuries they had stood. There were clothing shops, vendors of good and furniture for the home, bakeries, a smithy, a bank, and a branch of the Amira Trade Ministry. Though the buildings themselves were made of heavy blocks of drab granite, they were all adorned with colorful banners and flags. Strings of blue streamers were stretched between some of the buildings. Ancient oak, pine and aspen trees grew up around some of the buildings, with benches hewn from their boughs beneath them. Highly colorful murals adorned the walls of some of the buildings. There were images of children at play, of dragons circling in the skies, of green hills with stone spires and fanciful, silvery rain drops.

Krek blinked. He took a few steps towards the building. The plaza was nearly deserted now as the tolling bells sent people indoors. There were wooden stalls and stands set up, but none of them held goods at the moment. Dark haired people peered out at the gryphon from windows, but flicked the shutters closed when he glanced their way.

Krek peered at a banner. It was blue, with a silvery raindrop emblazoned upon it. The raindrop held an odd, stylized shape. The bottom of the raindrop was unusually crescent shaped like the blade of an axe. Then it clicked in Krek's mind. He looked around. There were banners with that symbol on them everywhere. There were other banners as well that held a different symbol with the same meaning. A slightly curved, bright silver blade embossed upon a black flag speckled with a hundred points of white light.

"Death In The Night," Krek murmured to himself.

Valar's sharp ears still picked it up. "Yes. Amira has become the closet thing they have to a home. This is where they live while they plot to take back Aran'alia. This whole city is Death In The Night. It is a festering bed of anger directed at your Queen's home. That is why I want no part in ruling it, nor will I ever move my family here. We will stay in Denoria where it is quiet, and peaceful, and the people do not nourish themselves on misguided hatred."

"That explains why everyone is staying indoors right now," Krek said, folding his wings against his body. He slowly moved to stand closer to Valar as though he feared getting an arrow in his throat. "It sounds as though the warning bells have tapered off, though."

"They have done their job. Everyone has taken shelter already." He turned his head to smirk at the gryphon. "That way, when my kin come to kill you on behalf of Death In The Night, no innocents will be harmed."

Krek shivered a little, ruffling up his feathers. "I am starting to think this may not have been our wisest idea."

Valar growled under his breath. "So am I. But no one has come to greet us, so they are waiting to see what we do. Probably wondering if I've come to hand you over to them as a spy."

"That isn't funny," Krek said, clacking his beak.

"It wasn't meant to be," Valar said sharply. "If my brother and sister or anyone else try to harm or capture you, fly. You can out fly everyone here and I expect you to do it. Do not give them a chance to surround you, or drag you to the ground."

"You really think they would do that to me?" Krek tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. He hadn't always gotten along that well with Valar's siblings, but then again, they'd never really disliked each other, either. "Even after all the years you and I have shared friendship?"

"I do not think they would harm you without provocation, no," Valar said, but he lifted a paw, unsheathing a single claw in warning. "But as far as they are concerned, you are a highly valuable servant of Illandra. And there is no telling what ideas might be creeping around their heads these days. Any friendship you held with them was severed when you took up Illandra's cause."

"I did not take up-"

Valar cut him off with a snap of his jaws. "In the mind of my mother, and her mate, and my siblings, you did. And right now, that is all that matters. Now cover your ears, you sensitive songbird."

Krek flopped back onto his haunches, grumbling. "Should have worn my damn armor."

"You have armor?" Valar smirked.

"Yes, and I look magnificently sexy in it." Krek grinned, and pressed his front paws over his ears.

Valar took a deep breath then tipped his head back to the sky and roared. The powerful, primal sound echoed out across the city for long moments. When it faded, there was an answering roar from the west. Then another from where the city was carved into terraced roads and levels far up the mountain. Then a louder roar rang out above the others, echoing down from the high keep that kept watch over everything.

Krek tilted his head back towards the skies. The sun had vanished behind the clouds that drifted above the mountains, and the city was cast in purple-hued shadows. Soon several dark silhouettes passed before the sunlit clouds, spiraling in the sky a few times. Then they tightened up, flying alongside each other as they began to descend towards the city. The two dragons soon broke away from each other again. One of them began a slower, spiraling descent while the other entered into a steep dive straight for the plaza where Krek and Valar stood.

Valar motioned with a paw. "Stand right alongside me, Krek. At my good side." He snapped his jaws. "Now."

Krek did not hesitate. He moved to stand next to the dragon, close enough for feathers to brush scales. "Is this so they remember I'm your friend?"

Valar snorted, flaring out his wing and wrapping it over Krek's back. "This is so my brother cannot end his dive by pinning you under his claws."

Krek gave a little growl. "Valar, if your brother attacks me..."

"You will not draw his blood unless it is a last resort," Valar cautioned the gryphon. "And then you will get away as fast as you can. Under no conditions are you to stay and fight no matter what happens, unless you want four dragons to tear you apart and make trophies of those silver-edged wings."

"I thought you said they weren't likely to harm me?"

"Blood for Blood, Krek," Valar said softly. "If you draw theirs, they will draw yours."

"What if they draw mine first?" Valar did not answer, and Krek hissed through his beak. "I will defend myself if I must, Valar. You would think your family would have already learned what that particularly draconic tenant leads to."

"My mother would not allow harm to her children to go unpunished," Valar said simply. "And when my father followed Blood For Blood to its inevitable end, I was the only one of my siblings yet alive to learn from it."

Krek gave a long sigh. He nuzzled up against Valar's neck, unashamedly pressing himself to his friend. The dragon felt strong, and Krek took comfort in that. The gryphon would not want to admit just how painfully hard his heart was beating. Arrogant as Krek could be, he knew that the odds in battle with a dragon were not in his favor. Though his chances would be better if he bore his armor, he was at least confident he could best a single young dragon in battle in the sky. However upon the ground things would be much harder. He had learned that lesson first hand long ago.

Krek panted a little as he peered up at the dragon diving at them. The sun broke through the clouds just in time to paint the young dragon's bronze body a golden shade. The blue speckles and splotches that marked his body stood out almost as much as the sky blue socks that covered each of his paws. He was younger than Valar, and smaller as well. The bronze dragon's body was still a little wiry and lean, yet nonetheless Valar's half brother was still much bigger than the last time Krek saw him. In a way it was a strange thing for Krek to see. The gryphon had long since finished growing, yet here it was many years later and Valar's younger sibling was yet to reach his full size.

"It strikes me, Valar," Krek said, his panting getting heavier, thin tongue peeking from his beak now and then. "That the last time I saw your brother he called me a Stink-Bird. So I pushed him down and sat on him till he took it back. I fear at the time I did not consider the fact that someday he was going to be larger than me. You don't suppose he's forgotten that, do you?"

"No," Valar said, licking his friend's cheek. "I don't. But it'll be alright. You've come here with peaceful intent to discuss matters of importance with my mother. More importantly, you've come here with me."

"I don't suppose your mother would forgive me if I preemptively punched him in the balls, do you?" Krek cracked a smile, making a joke as much to relieve his own tension as anything else.

"She might, but he wouldn't," Valar said, smirking. Then the smirk dropped from his muzzle. "Now be quiet, and ready yourself just in case. We shall see what intent my brother has."

---

Chapter Six

---

Krek ruffled up his ebony feathers nervously, and took a deep breath. He held it for a moment, pulling all his fear inside himself. A trick he'd learned from Kathlyn that he'd taken to heart. It did not matter how frightened you were. It only mattered how frightened you appeared to be. Krek slowly pulled the emotion from his face. He held his head high, narrowing his green eyes a little. He perked up his ears, and flared out his silver crown feathers. He even twisted his beak into a smirk as though he just couldn't wait to push the bronze dragon down and settle himself upon his chest again.

The young dragon dove straight at Valar and Krek until it was nearly too late to avoid a dangerous collision. At the last moment, he threw open bronze wings edged with blue speckles, pulling away from the two of them. He roared, and spat flame into the sky above the two visitors as if angry that he hadn't intimidated his brother, or the gryphon. With heat still boiling in the air from the burst of fire, the young dragon dropped to the ground a little ways away. Flaring up all his spines, the blue-marked bronze dragon closed the distance with a charge. He skidded to a stop just in front of Valar and Krek. He lashed his tail angrily, spines scratching at the flagstones. He slashed his paw in the air, claws threateningly close to Krek's face.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Half-Brother?" He snapped his teeth in front of Valar's nose. "I haven't seen you in ages, Mother frets about you constantly and you have to go and spoil your visit by dragging our enemy into our home?"

"I am not your enemy," Krek said, glaring at the other dragon.

"Quiet Stink-Bird or I'll slap that smirk off your beak." He hissed at the gryphon, tensing up.

"Hello to you too, Brother," Valar said, a smirk of his own crossing his muzzle. "I brought Krek here because I wish him to talk to mother. Whether you know it or not, she is planning something terrible. Her actions will help no one, and they certainly will not help further your cause."

"It is your cause too," the bronze dragon hissed at Valar. Then he softened his tone, narrowing his eyes. "What is she planning?"

"If she has not told you, it is not my place to speak of it on her behalf. Will you take us to see her?" Valar tilted his head, then inclined it towards the keep far up atop the mountains. "Or shall we go on our own?"

"Why don't you just send the bird? I'd be curious to see who beats the feathers off him first. Mother or Father."

"They're both here, then?" Valar tilted his head.

"Where else would they be?"

Valar took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. "I don't know, Voskyr, I haven't been here in ages."

"Well, who's fault is that?" Voskyr flicked his spined tail.

"Our mother's." Valar glared at his half brother, flaring his spines a little.

"Oh, Valar, let it go," Voskyr said, pushing his head forward till his nose brushed Valar's. "You're clinging to that anger just as badly as you would say she clings to hers."

"Surprisingly insightful, actually," Krek murmured, brushing a wing against Valar's side. "You should listen to your brother."

"Half-brother," the two male dragons said nearly in unison. Then Voskyr turned his glare to the gryphon. "Though I appreciate your support, Stink-Bird. And I admire your balls in daring to come here."

"You always did admire my balls," Krek said, clacking his beak. "Now, we really must see your mother."

"Before my sister arrives to greet you?" Voskyr tossed his head, snorting and flaring his blue-speckled spines. "I think not."

"So Valar is the only one you call your half-sibling? I hadn't realized you reserved that indignity for him." Krek slipped out from under Valar's wing a little bit. "That doesn't seem very friendly of you."

"We had the same father who raised us," Voskyr said, glancing over at Valar. "He was the one always pining for someone he barely knew."

Valar growled low in his throat, narrowing his golden, silver-flecked eyes. "I knew him better than you think."

"Perhaps. Though I sometimes think you must have invented half those memories." Voskyr snorted, glancing up at the sky to where his sister was lazily spiraling towards the ground. "You were still awfully young when he abandoned you and our mother, after all."

Krek turned his green gaze to Valar, expecting him to raise an objection. It often seemed like Valar was happy enough to suggest his father abandoned them, but should anyone else suggest the same he took offense. Yet for the moment Valar lacked the energy to argue that. Krek turned a little to nuzzle comfortingly at Valar's neck. The gryphon suspected Valar was saving his energy to argue with his mother.

Valar was quiet a few moments. Ignoring Voskyr's bait, he watched his younger sister sweep in low over an empty road beyond the plaza. Even at a distance, her colors were very familiar. In many ways she was nearly the opposite of Valar. Her body was shades of blue, mostly paler than those of her mother. And where Valar had blue socks and blue markings on his snout and wings, his sister bore similar marks and patterns in black. Valar narrowed his eyes as his sister touched down upon the empty street. She bore a rider upon her back. A black haired woman with a brown cloak edged in what looked like a pattern of green leaves. The rider hopped down, patted the dragon's shoulder and vanished into a nearby building.

Valar licked his nose, and returned his attention to his half-brother. "Does everyone think we're going to fight? I've never seen this city so empty."

"Us?" Voskyr shook his head, chuckling. "No." He rustled his bronze wings a little. "Him?" Then he inclined his head towards the black gryphon. "That's a different story. If he'd come here alone..."

"I am not that foolish," Krek said sharply, flaring out his silver edged wings a little as he stepped away from Valar.

"And yet here you are," Voskyr said, unsheathing a few claws and waving them at the gryphon. "With only my half-brother to prevent us from capturing the Wings Of Illandra and putting you on display. It was wiser for us to give the signal for everyone to stay indoors rather than take any chances."

"I come with peaceful intent," Krek said, lifting up his crown feathers. "And that is a rather silly moniker you have given me. I serve more than just..."

Voskyr snapped his jaws, cutting the gryphon off with a snarl. "Your peaceful intent may change if we decide to prevent you from leaving."

"You will not even think about harming him," Valar growled, neck spines rising as he stepped towards his brother. Voskyr growled back at him, turning to face the other dragon. Soon their pebbly scaled, blue marked noses were nearly touching yet it was not a friendly gesture. Valar gave a little snarl. "He is here as my guest, and he will leave as my guest."

"Perhaps," Voskyr said, glaring into Valar's eyes. "Perhaps not. We shall see what our mother decides."

A female voice called out. "If you males are going to fight again, at least wait for me to get there." The female dragon laughed to herself as she approached the others. "I should like to watch this time!"

Krek bristled his feathers. That female had entirely too much cheer in her voice for his liking. Just the way he remembered Kylyra. Nonetheless if this was her attempt to diffuse the growing tension, Krek was happy to try and help. "Kylyra, you should only like to watch so you can yell for them to get each other in the balls!"

"Yes," the female dragon said as she padded towards them. "I should."

Krek ground his beak as the two male dragons scarcely seemed to notice the new arrival. Valar and Voskyr remained nearly snout-to-snout, spines flared all around their heads. Valar had always been larger than his half brother, and now that he was full grown the differences stood out all the more. Yet Voskyr was at the age where he'd fight anything no matter his chances. Krek couldn't recall the dragon's term for it. Something about nuts and teeth, was it?

Even before they'd matured Voskyr and Valar had a history of rivalry that sometimes turned violent. At best the half-brothers were often held an uneasy sort of friendship. They loved each other, Krek was sure. The gryphon was also sure they had differences that were difficult for anyone to bridge, let alone angry dragons. Not that Krek could blame them. Much as the gryphon hated to admit it a lot of that tension was probably on Valar's part. Despite Voskalar's best efforts Valar often felt as though he'd grown up without a father. And by the time Valar himself was at the age where adolescent anger came far too easy, he was watching Voskalar teach his own son to fly. Meanwhile Valar's father was in Kathlyn's dungeon.

Just as the two males bared their fangs, the blue scaled female dragon suddenly pushed her way between them. First she stuck her black-marked muzzle directly between their snouts to force them apart. Then she took several long strides forward until she was standing directly between the two male dragons with a black-edged azure wing half draped over each snout.

"If you boys are going to stare at something, at least stare at something prettier than yourselves."

Valar snorted, but cracked a smile again as he pulled his wedge shaped head back. He gave the black-edged wing a lick. "Hello, Kylyra."

Kylyra smiled, and made a show of turning all the way around to face Valar. In the process, she bumped her haunches up against her younger half-brother, forcibly shoving Voskyr out of the way. He stumbled and yelped and growled, only to yelp a second time when Kylyra smacked him on the snout with her tail. The female dragon grinned at Valar, her own small spines flared up in a show of smug amusement rather than aggression. Black markings tipped her pale blue snout, and the golden flecks in her silver eyes sparkled with wicked mirth. Valar always saw his father reflected in those golden specks.

"Hello, Brother." Kylyra sniffed at Valar's nose, and then gave him a lick. "I have missed you! Can you not see fit to come and see us more often than the occasional visit by Stink-Bird over there?"

Krek squawked and ruffled up his feathers in indignation. "What, you too? At least come up with your own insults."

Kylyra smirked over at the gryphon, cocking her sky blue head. "How about Small-Balls?"

"That sounds more suitable, I think," Valar said, grinning at his friend a moment.

Krek made a show of hanging his head and splaying his wings around himself as if hiding from his shame. "Whole damn family's got a tongue like a knife."

Valar grinned, and then nosed his sister. He licked her muzzle, and when she tilted her head back he licked her chin as well. Then Valar gave a nearly-gryphon sounding squawk of his own when Kylyra surprised him. She surged forward to push forcefully against him. When he stumbled a little she wrapped her forelegs around his body and soon followed suit with her wings. A heavy, rumbling purr built up in the dragoness' throat as she hugged him, and soon Valar was hugging her in return.

"Alright, alright," Valar said, laughing as he worked his own wings around his sister, one of them a little more completely than the other. "I missed you too, Kyly!"

"Promise?" Kylyra pulled her head back, her black neck curling a little.

"Yes, I promise," Valar said, licking at her throat, unable to stop smiling. "My home is always open to you, you know. You need not wait for me to visit, you can come and visit us, as well. Aylyryn and Ayly would love to see you. You should see Ayly, she's getting so big already. And she's already claimed her first gryphon!"

"Has she then!" Kylyra explained in mock pride, turning her smirk to the black bird.

Krek turned his head, preening at his shoulder. He spat out a feather. "And I've the claw marks in my back to prove it. Little brat climbed me like a tree!"

Kylyra laughed at that, moving back from Valar after a few more moments of hugging. "I would like to come and visit sometime. Perhaps when I'm not busy providing ferry service."

"I did see your passenger," Valar said, lowering his voice. "Someone important?"

"No one you'd like to know about, Valar," Kylyra said. She knew well enough what path her brother had chosen, and what path he had worked so hard to avoid. Then she flicked a wing tip towards the gryphon. "Nor anyone I'd talk about in front of him."

"You all make it sound as though I'm here to spy on you," Krek said, twisting his head to preen his other shoulder, near where his wing sprouted.

"You are," Voskyr said, growling softly.

Valar spoke up before the gryphon could reply, and pointedly avoided that subject. "You are welcome to visit me at my home anytime as well, Brother. For all our spats, you are still family, and I still love you. We would be very happy to host you for as long as you'd like to stay."

A half smile tugged at the corners of Voskyr's muzzle. "Thank you, Valar." He ducked his head a little in respect. "Perhaps I should wait until your daughter stops climbing people." He lifted his head again, grinning. "It seems the ideal time to visit my niece would be after she stops using her claws to scale her father's friends and family..." Then he shot his sister a glare, hissing. "But before she learns to hit balls!"

"That's sound advice," Valar said, glaring at their sister as well.

Kylyra acted as innocent as she could. She looked back and forth. "Why are you all looking at me like that?"

"For the same reason I plan to keep my tail tucked as tightly as I can while I visit," Valar muttered, then gave his younger sister a lick across her cheek.

"You mean because you're ashamed of your small nuts? I'm not sure why that would cause you to glare at me," Kylyra said through her purr. "Now, are you two males about done fighting?"

"Perhaps for the moment," Voskyr said.

Kylyra snorted, and turned her body partway around. She bumped her haunches forcefully against her younger sibling, grinning as he stumbled. Then she hoisted a hind paw and kicked it out a little to press it against his chest. She gave him a hard shove with her hind leg. He stumbled back again, yelping a little bit.

"Cut it out," he snapped.

"No. If you're going to cause trouble with our brother, I'm going to have to keep you two separated."

Voskyr hissed in frustration, and tried to walk around her. Kylyra simply pivoted on her paws till her haunches were in front of him again. This time she hoisted her tail a little bit and swatted him sharply on the nose with the tip of it. Voskyr yelped and grabbed at his nose with a paw, whimpering.

After a moment, he swatted her sharply on the haunch, hissing at her. "I thought I told you to cut it out!"

Kylyra simply hoisted up her tail in preparation to swat his nose with it again. "You want another one?"

Voskyr stepped back, curling his neck to pull his head away from her tail. "No. Now get your scaly ass out of my face."

That only made Kylyra laugh. She waved her haunches at her half-brother, her tail up. "You like it."

"Very funny," Voskyr said, glancing away after a moment. "Wave it in Valar's face, why don't you."

"Valar's harder to fluster than you are." Kylyra smirked at her brother. "Perhaps I should wave it in the gryphon's face instead."

"By all means, my dear," Krek said with a little purr. "I shall stare for as long as you like. Though, keep that tail up too long and I might mount you as well."

"What, here in the street?" Kylyra gave a rumbling yet musical laugh, slowly lowering her tail. Then she prowled forward, pushing her blue scaled body up against Krek's black fur and feathers. "Oh, my little bird. Believe it or not, I have missed you as well." She smiled at him, pressing herself against the gryphon as she walked all the way around him. Her tail tip brushed the fur of his rump, and the back of his furry sac. She licked his ear as she completed her circle. "Have you missed me?"

Krek shivered a little, grinning at her. "Apparently not as much as I should have."

"Silly bird," she said, nipping at his neck. She walked around in front of him, hoisting her tail and shaking her haunches a moment. Krek found himself presented with a very clear view of the pink folds of her sex, standing out quite clearly amidst the pale blue scales of her underbelly, hind legs and haunches. "There is one thing you should know, Krek."

Krek found himself staring at the female dragon's sex, his sheath quickly plumping up. When she lowered her tail, and began to press herself against him again, he shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He also tried to ignore the fact that Valar was smirking at him. "And what is that, my Dear?"

"Though I consider you a friend," Kylyra said, purring as she wriggled her larger blue scaled body against the gryphon's smaller black furred one. "If you have come here to make trouble, or endanger our operations? If you make a wrong move, or my mother orders your capture and you refuse to surrender?" Kylyra deftly shoved her forepaw beneath Krek's underbelly, snatching his black furred testicles in her grasp. Krek squawked and tensed up, and though Kylyra did not squeeze him he could feel her claw tips prickling his sensitive flesh. "I will make trophies out of your fuzzy little black-bird balls. Is that clear?"

"Painfully so," Krek said with a gulp. He turned his head to peer under Kylyra's tail again while he had the chance. "But my words are true. I came here only to ask your mother to reconsider the madness I fear she is about to undertake. If she refuses I will leave here without so much as unsheathing my claws."

"That is good to hear," Kylyra said, grinning. "And well spoken considering you have your eyes locked on my slit." She rolled the gryphon's orbs around in her paw, making Krek groan. "Not bad, for a bird. Perhaps if your words are as true as you say, we'll have a little fun before you leave. I assume you two are staying the night?"

"I don't know," Valar said, laughing at the look on the gryphon's beaked face. "I do not want to stay here any longer than I have to."

"Aw, mother shall be disappointed if you do not stay," Kylyra said, releasing Krek. She patted the gryphon's haunch, and then thwacked his beak with her tail tip. He squawked and flopped onto his haunches to grasp his beak. The blue-scaled female strolled past her brother, smiling. "She's had a room made up for you in the citadel, in case you ever came by. She'll ask you to reconsider, I'm sure. But, at any rate, come along. I'll take you up there before the bird decides to masturbate here in the streets."

"Are you saying it's better if I masturbate in the castle?" Krek asked, rising to his feet again.

"We'll see," Kylyra said, shaking her haunches at the gryphon.

Voskyr hissed. "Why are you taking them? I shall do it."

"Because," Kylyra said, leveling her silvery glare at her half-brother for a moment. "You've already had enough chances to try and pick a fight. Besides, Mother wants you to make sure our other guests are well taken care of."

Voskyr glanced up the street towards the building Kylyra's rider had vanished into. He twitched his tail spines, and huffed an irritable snort. Then he began to stride away from the plaza, lashing his tail. "Very well." He tossed his head, but did not look back. "Farewell Brother. Stink-bird."

"Pleasant fellow, your brother," Krek said, nudging at Valar's neck with his beak.

Valar's muzzle twisted into a little scowl. "He has his moments."

"I seem to recall him having a lot more of them when he was younger." Krek softened his tone a little, nudging Valar again.

"A lot of things have changed since we were all young, Krek." Valar flattened his spines back against his head, and sighed. "Voskyr and Kylyra follow after my mother. They believe in her, and they are not happy with the fact I have turned away from that path."

"I wonder, Valar." Krek pulled his head back, lifting his crown feathers a little. "If your mother had told you the truth about your father from the start, would you still be here, fighting her war alongside her?"

"I sometimes wonder why you pose such questions, Krek." Valar cocked his head to the side, lifting an ear. "The answers cannot be pleasant for you to think about."

Krek gave a thoughtful warble. Then lowering his head a little, he softly said, "When we consider the other paths our lives may have taken, it is easier for us to know if we walk the right road."

"Are you two going to come visit my mother, or are you going to keep trying to sound smart with your pseudo-philosophical banter?" Kylyra smirked at the two males from nearby.

"Knife like a tongue," Krek muttered. "Very well, take us to see the old girl."

Kylyra raised her blue eye ridges. "Call her old to her face and she'll mount your beak upon her wall."

"I'll give her something to mount," Krek said, flaring his wings a little.

Valar tried to hold back his laugh, bumping his body up against his friend. "Keep it up, and you'll be lucky if she leaves you anything to mount her with by the time this is over." Then he ducked his head down in a show of respect for their guide. "Now, if you'll lead the way, dear Sister?"

Kylyra smiled at Valar, spread out her wings and bounded away. The blue dragon ran across the plaza and leapt into the sky. Her vast, black-edged azure wings swept out beneath her, pulling her into the sky. A few swift wing beats carried her well above the rooftops of the buildings surrounding her sibling and his feathered friend. Valar glanced at Krek, then gestured with his head towards the sky, signaling Krek to follow. Krek did not hesitate, launching himself off of his powerful hind legs. Black wings with trailing silver feathers worked the air, hoisting the gryphon skyward.

A few moments later, and Valar ascended behind him. The young black dragon's ascent was the choppiest of the three. Where the dragoness and the gryphon rose smoothly with even strokes of their wings, Valar took to the skies in a more halting manner. Each forceful beat of the dragon's wings pulled him higher into the sky, as though he were a puppet rising a little further each time his strings were yanked. Ascending was always the hardest part for Valar but it was something he'd long since grown accustomed to.

Soon, the sprawl of the lower city was stretching out beneath them in a network of houses and shops and webbing of so many streets and pathways. Valar gazed at it for a little while as he ascended, then turned his attention to the other two who shared the sky with him. Kylyra was not exactly waiting for the slower dragon to catch up. Rather she was flying swiftly towards the square citadel crowning the towering peak that kept watch over the city. The lower half of the mountain was terraced with layers and levels of streets and buildings cut into the stone itself. Blocky, sturdy looking towers stood here and there, teeming with armored watchmen. The streets in the mountainside section of Amira looked a little more busy. Distant bells tolled and a glance backwards told Valar that the lower city was coming back to life as well. It seemed the city's guards were satisfied there was not going to be violence after all.

Ahead of them loomed the central building of the citadel Kylaryn called home. Up close it was clear the place was far less of a ruin than it appeared from below. The roughly square-shaped building in the middle of the complex looked like the massive, helmeted head of the mountain itself. The many windows cut in the stone walls could easily have been a multitude of eyes peering warily at the approaching dragons. Walkways stretched from that building to those on either side of it. Some of the walkways were original stone structures, others were more recently constructed wooden spans. Both had a few guards upon them.

The guards were new. The last time Valar had been here, his mother hadn't yet had humans running around the place. Valar wondered if they were related to Krek's fears, or if they were simply here because she'd been conducting meetings with other humans she did not trust. Either way, the guards did not seem too concerned with the group approaching. Valar couldn't blame them. They knew as well as he that the dragons who dwelled in the City Of Stairs could handle a single gryphon, no matter how well trained and experienced he may be.

Kylyra led them on until they swept over the walkways and square-cut stone buildings that rose from the mountain itself. She tucked her wings in, banking a little as she swiftly began to descend. Behind the three buildings visible from the town was a large open area that served as an inner courtyard. Ancient, gnarled pine and fir trees rose here and there from the broken ground. Their twisted forms held evidence both of howling winds, and of binds once used to secure a roof or canopy in ages long faded. Steam rose from the hot spring in the courtyard in angry, writhing swirls.

Given the stone walls around it and the staircase descending into the water, it seemed the spring had once served as both bathing area, and the center of an old garden. Krek suspected they used to trap the warm steam under a roof of some sort to help keep the plants alive through the winter. The garden was long gone, but the water remained. Several wooden poles erected around it held iron rings with lanterns hanging from them. A few other poles held banners with silvery, crescent shaped raindrops and white daggers, or dragons silhouetted against a blue sky.

At the other side of the courtyard were a few more stone buildings. There were a few smaller outbuildings, and a wide, tall building towards the center. The wide building had immense, newly constructed double-doors that were painted a bright blue color. Stylized dragon wings were painted stretched across the doors, outlined in gold. Ancient Aran'alian runes ran around the edges of the doors in fanciful silver script. Even from across the courtyard it was clear those doors were designed to be worked by dragons rather than by men. Each door bore an immense lever-like handle carved from dark wood in the shape of a dragon's foreleg. On either side of the doors, massive banners were affixed to the wall. The banners themselves were silver, and each bore the head of a dragon upon them. One of them bore a female's dark blue visage, with the name of Valar's mother upon it in several languages. The other bore a male dragon's face, his pebbly scales a deep bronze hue.

Kylyra touched down near the hot springs, lashing her tail. She trotted out of the way to make room for the other two to land. Krek touched down first, glancing at the faintly bubbling hot waters. The springs tinted the air just faintly with the aroma of sulfur, but Krek would have gladly let that foul scent cling to his feathers for a chance to spend the night relaxing in the hot water. He walked to the edge of the spring and placed a paw upon the stone wall around it, peering down into the water.

"I suppose the springs are off limits to guests, hmm?"

Valar landed alongside Krek, and quickly snapped his teeth at the tuft on Krek's tail. "There's no time to bother with that, Bird."

Krek squawked, ruffled his feathers and spun around. "I suppose not. Pity your mother didn't discover this place when she and I were still on friendly terms."

"This way, boys," Kylyra said, ignoring Krek's question. She padded towards the large building with the dragon banners and colorful doors. As the two males walked behind her, she made a show of hoisting her tail up and flashing them both her slit. Valar simply snorted and shook his head, while Krek did not bother to hide his stare.

"Tease," the gryphon muttered.

"And proud of it," Kylyra said. "Besides, you're not the first guests I've had to take up here lately. Have to amuse myself somehow." Kylyra said. She came to a stop before the large doors, and carefully reached out to wrap her paw around the wooden handle. "Press the lever down and turn just a little to open the door," she instructed Krek.

"Yes, thank you, I understand how a door works."

"Oh, that's right." Kylyra depressed the lever, and gently eased the door open. It creaked a little but the heavy door slowly swung on well oiled hinges. "I forgot you're a city bird who lives in a castle and can't remember how to hunt."

"A_rich_ city bird," Krek corrected her, grinning. "And in my castle, we can afford metal door handles."

"If we had metal door handles out here, your paw pads would freeze to them in the winter." Kylyra stepped aside to let the others enter. "And then how would you pleasure yourself after you tore your soft little gryphon paws apart?"

Krek clacked his beak as he strode past the female. "I'd mount some mouthy young dragoness."

Valar chuckled, pausing to give his sister's cheek a lick. "Thank you, Sister. If you don't mind, I think we'd like to talk to mother alone."

"I don't mind," Kylyra said with a purr. Then she gestured for Valar to walk through the door so she could close it. "Mother asked for it to be that way, anyway."

Valar wasn't sure he liked the sound of that. Before he could think too hard about it, Kylyra made a show of shutting the door quickly enough to nearly smash his tail. Valar jumped a few paces forward, bumping into Krek who gave a little squawk. He kicked out with a hind paw, thumping his friend's chest plates. Valar grunted and punched the gryphon on the haunch.

"Watch it, Bird!"

"You watch it, Lizard! You're the one who bumped into me." Krek twisted around a little and carefully smoothed down some of his ruffled feathers and patches of fur.

Valar smirked at him. "Vain bird."

"Magnificence requires effort," Krek replied, finishing his grooming.

Valar didn't mind. It gave the two of them time for their eyes to adjust. There were lanterns and lamps here and there. In the distance, the crackling sound of fire could be heard. It was a bit dim deeper inside. The fiery mountain sunlight that streamed in through the windows during the day was quickly being extinguished by the waters of nightfall.

"This is her meeting hall," Valar said softly, walking forward.

"And here I thought she'd have us meet her in her sleeping quarters," Krek muttered, following after the dragon. He peered around as they walked into the sizable chamber.

Everything about the room was impressive. From the hearths at either end in the shape of immense dragon maws, to the elegant white marble railing that spiraled around the winding staircases leading to the balcony, to the many exotic rugs and carpets coating the floor in layers of color. Yet Krek soon found his attention drawn away from the room's appointments and focused squarely on Valar. The young dragon had fixed his attention on the collection of banners hanging from the balcony railings.

Krek himself had paid the banners little heed at first. He knew well enough dragons liked to have depictions of themselves to appreciate. Given the chance Krek would have banners of himself commissioned as well. Only when he caught Valar staring with wide, golden eyes at them did he realize there was something different about these banners.

Unlike the banners strewn about town, these represented specific dragons like the two at the front of the meeting hall. There were five banners total, and each depicted a different dragon. Krek recognized the blue female immediately, even without the name _Kylaryn_spelled out beneath it. She looked younger than Krek had ever known her to be. Her wings were spread and her head was held high in pride. Her colors were a little different, her blues a little lighter. The banner to her right clearly depicted Voskalar, though the bronze dragon was far more youthful in appearance then Krek could recall him, and he held far more brown tones on his body than he did the last time they'd met.

Krek glanced at Valar. The young black dragon was silent. Valar was staring at the banner on the other side of Kylaryn. It depicted a black dragon as well, with hints of blue along his wings, and his nose. For a moment, Krek thought it was a banner of Valaranyx. The resemblance was certainly there. But the dragon in the banner did not have blue paws. Without realizing it, Valar lifted a trembling paw, holding it half outstretched towards the banner of the black dragon. Krek's breath caught when he saw the name.

Valyrym.

"Valar," Krek said softly, reaching out to his friend.

The moment Krek spoke, Valar yanked his paw out of the air and shoved it back to the ground so forcefully it must have hurt. The action made Krek wince inside. Even now, even after all of this...Valar missed his father. Krek reached out and gently rubbed Valar's shoulder, just before his wing. He moved up to nuzzle Valar's neck a little, murmuring to him.

"It's alright, Valar," Krek said softly. "It's alright."

Valar swallowed a few times, blinking away the sudden wetness from his eyes. His voice was a rattling croak. "She...she did not have these up last time."

Krek only nodded, and nuzzled the dragon's neck again. He cooed softly into his ears. While Valar calmed him, the gryphon glanced up at the banners again. There was a green dragon, a male, and a black female with golden stripes on her limbs. Krek recognized them as Valar's aunt and uncle. Though in the banner his uncle still had a functional wing and a body that wasn't wrapped in a mass of scar tissue on one side. Krek even spotted another banner with a little black and blue hatchling with an oddly cocked wing on it. He smiled at the sight of it, but decided against teasing his friend about it. He could always tell him how adorable he looked later.

"Those must be quite old," Krek said softly.

Valar merely nodded. "They...they are from Sigil Stones. From long before my father was even captured. I had...forgotten them."

Krek stood by Valar while Valar collected himself. It did not seem to take him long. Valar took the sudden pain he felt, and twisted it into strength. "Mother!"

When there was no immediate answer, Valar hissed. Seeing those banners made him irritable on top of his already gnawing anxiety. He did not like being kept waiting. The young dragon's brassy voice bounced around the expansive chamber, echoing off stone walls and ceiling. "Mother! Voskalar! It is Valar. I have come with Krek. We must speak to you."

"We know who it is, Valar," came a soft, familiar male voice in reply. "Give your mother a moment, and she will join you soon."

Valar and Krek both turned as an older male dragon the color of a well aged bronze sculpture emerged from the wide entryway to a side room. Valar smiled, some of his irritability fading at the sight of his mother's mate. He'd always liked Voskalar, and it was not the bronze's fault his mother had lied to him for so many years.

As Valar approached the older male dragon, Krek stood his ground. He was not yet sure how warmly he was going to be welcomed, and wanted to stay out of striking range just in case. Still, he smiled at Voskalar and inclined his head in a friendly enough greeting.

Valar walked up, intent on a simple greeting. He nosed the older dragon a moment. "Hello, Voskalar," Valar said softly.

Voskalar, however, would have none of Valar's simple greeting. Instead, the bronze dragon simply flopped down onto his haunches, and dragged Valar up against him in an immense, nearly crushing hug. Over the many years since Voskalar first met Valar's father, his scales had gradually changed from a nearly even mixture of bright bronze and earthen browns to a much more refined, burnished bronze tone over much of his body. Here and there dark browns the color of rich, freshly tilled soil highlighted the bronze coloration. Darker stripes now marked his tail, with patterning in formless blotches across his haunches and limbs. Scars from battles fought long after Valar lost his father marked his body in several places. Through the many years of his life his early shyness had faded and instead developed into a sort of warm thoughtfulness. And he'd grown far more open with his own affections for those he cared about. He hugged Valar tightly and let his tongue slide up over Valar's nose in a few affectionate licks.

Valar laughed, struggling and pushing at his muzzle. "Alright, alright! I yield!" Still, Valar was hardly offended by the show of affection. It warmed his heart, and helped him feel a bit better for a little while.

Voskalar gave a deep, rumbling laugh, and finally let Valar go. "It's good to see you! You never come by any more. Your mother and I would love it if you visited more often."

Valar huffed and looked away. He pinned his ears back, feeling sheepish. "I know. And...I'm sorry for that. It is...hard for me to face her, sometimes."

"And yet here you are," Voskalar said softly, rising back to all fours. "So it cannot be that impossible a task."

"I hope you're not going to nag me about visiting the entire time I am in fact, visiting," Valar said, smirking.

Voskalar grinned. "Oh, but I must!"

"Let me guess," Valar said, gesturing with a wing for Krek to come forward. "Mother told you bring it up so she wouldn't have too?"

"Oh, she'll bring it up too," Vos said, grinning a little.

"All these years, and you still do everything Mother tells you." Valar laughed.

For a moment, Valar smiled at the dragon who had in so many ways served as his father for much of his life. Valar could never fault Voskalar for any of the things that had happened. The years had proved that the once-shy youngling had a heart filled with love he wanted to share with everyone he could. In time, he had come to share that love with Kylaryn.

"Can you blame me?" Voskalar asked with a little laugh.

"No," Valar said, shaking his head and grinning. "I'd prefer to keep my balls out of the vice, too."

"Better a vice then her damn paw," Vos replied, laughing. He lifted his spines, grinning wickedly. "Besides. Do you not do everything your mate asks you to?"

"Yes," Krek spoke up, ruffling his wings. "He does. Whipped, I tell you. You should see him cowering when Aylyryn approaches. Hanging his head, whimpering, calling her Mistress. Presenting his haunches for a paddling..."

"You're off in your own little fantasy world now, Krek," Valar said, grinning.

"Yes, but it's a fun fantasy," The gryphon replied, then took another step towards Voskalar. "Hello, Voskalar."

Voskalar watched Krek a moment, and then lashed out with a paw to deftly snatch one of Krek's sensitive ears. The gryphon squawked in pain and tried to twist away but found himself unable. Voskalar smirked. "Hello, Krek. You know, I think my son still owes you for pinning him down the last time you visited."

Krek tried twisting in the other direction, beating his wings ineffectually. "Rather a long time to hold a grudge, isn't it?"

"I suppose it is, yes," Voskalar said with a little laugh. "But what have you gotten my step-son wrapped up in this time?"

"He hasn't gotten me wrapped up in anything, Voskalar," Valar said softly. "The web that we are wrapped in now is a weave spun by my mother. We are here to talk to her about the Queen Of Illandra."

"Ah," Voskalar said, slowly releasing Krek's ear. He lowered his paw. His spines all flattened back against his head, and he turned his gaze down to the ground. "I rather feared as much. But, I enjoyed the moments of levity just the same." A smile flickered across his muzzle.

"So it is true?" Valar asked, lifting his voice a little. He reached out and gently placed his paw upon the scutes of Voskalar's front leg.

"I..." Voskalar took comfort in Valar's touch for a moment, then eased his leg away. "I shall have to let your mother answer that."

"And where is my mother?" Valar asked, trying to keep the irritable edge out of his voice. The young dragon's heartbeat was picking up now, his belly knotting. "It is not like her to keep me waiting."

"No," Voskalar said. "It is not. But neither is it like you to turn your back on her for so long a time. It has been hard on her, Valar. She has hoped ever since she visited to see your daughter that you might find it in your heart to forgive her. She has hoped so much that you would come to see her again." Voskalar turned his head to gaze at the banners that hung from the upper balcony of the grand meeting hall. "Come to see all of us here. And now that you finally have, it is only because unpleasant circumstances have forced your actions. She knows how badly you want to stay out of this, Valar. She only keeps you waiting because she is preparing herself to meet with you."

"I...I see," Valar said, holding his breath a moment.

Voskalar reached out and gently cupped Valar's cheek in a paw. "Whatever happens, Valar, she loves you more than you can imagine. She is so immensely proud of you, and what you've become. We both are." Voskalar smiled, and pressed his nose to Valar's. He lowered his voice, almost pleading with the younger dragon. "She will be with you when she has steadied her heart, and dried her eyes."

"I understand," Valar said, swallowing the sudden lump in his throat. "I have not come here just to make things difficult for her."

"I know," Voskalar said. He turned and patted Krek on the head before quietly padded back the way he'd come. "Just go easy on her, Valar. Your anger is a very deep wound, and your forgiveness would go a long way towards mending it."

Valar murmured low in his throat and hung his horned head for a moment. Krek brushed his beak against the scales of the dragon's neck. "He's right, you know."

Valar smirked just a little, glancing at his friend. "Shut up, Stink-bird."

---

Chapter Seven

---

Kylaryn held her breath just outside the Meeting Hall. For a moment, she simply listened to her son banter with his friend. She missed hearing that. Valar used to sound so happy with the bird. It reminded her of the way Valyrym and Korvarak used to get along so well before their worlds all fell apart. Somehow she knew if she stood there long enough to give her son and the gryphon time to relax, Valar would sound happy again. Part of her wanted to linger there, hidden away, and simply wait until she could hear happiness in her son's voice once more.

The rest of her knew that happiness would fade when he set eyes upon her.

Still, it was nice to know that after everything her son had been through there was still peace and happiness in his heart. For many long years she had feared he would grow up bitter and angry. Sure enough, he had wallowed in such emotions from time to time and she could not blame him. She herself so often felt the same way. Yet, even now when he barely wished to speak with her, Kylaryn took much joy in the fact that Valar had made a life for himself, and in that life he had found happiness.

If only Krek had not come back now threatening to spoil all that. Valar did not have to know what Kylaryn was going to do. Yet the bird was dragging him into the hidden war Valar so sought to avoid. Kylaryn grit her teeth, flaring her spines. Damn that bird. Krek had been such a good friend to her son and Kylaryn had always been ever so proud of Valar not only for sparing the gryphon's life but doing all he could to save it. There was mercy in Valar the likes of which dragons rarely seemed to know. Yet Kylaryn knew it was a mercy gained from agonizing hindsight.

Valar knew what Blood For Blood brought about and Valar rejected it. That thought alone made Kylaryn smile for a moment. Yet here poor Valar was, getting dragged into something else he wanted to stay out of. Krek had snatched him by the throat and hauled him across the country to see the mother who had lied to him for most of his years, and thrust him right into the middle of the war Valar refused to fight.

Kylaryn could not fault him for making that choice. Valar had a family to look after now. When Kylaryn had young to raise, she too had stepped back from the war. For years she focused her life on raising her children and keeping her family safe. Now that they were all grown, war with Illandra was once more her focus. Soon, there would be no more Illandra. There would only be Aran'alia, and freedom for the oppressed. Then Valar's family would be safe wherever they chose to live.

The burning of Kylaryn's lungs reminded her she was holding her breath. She let it out in a long, slow sigh. It seemed she was not going to quell the hammering of her heart after all. She should have known. She always got nervous around Valar now, not that she showed it. It never used to be this way. Yet Kylaryn always felt anxious around Valar ever since her beloved son learned the truth about his father. Each time she saw him, Kylaryn felt she was going to disappoint him again. Today, she knew she would.

Yet it had to be done. Kylaryn could only hope that someday Valar would understand.

Kylaryn padded out into the cavernous hall, her head held high. Her silver eyes shone as her gaze settled on Valar. "Hello, my son."

"Hello, mother." Valar's voice was soft, and his golden eyes lingered on Kylaryn's silver ones as if searching for some great secret she refused to reveal. There was pain in Kylaryn's eyes, deeper and more open than Valar had expected. It made his heart ache. He did not want to hurt his mother like this, and yet she had hurt him so deeply by hiding something so painful from him. "Do you...know why we are here?"

"I do," Kylaryn said simply. She strode deeper into the room, walking beneath the banners. Valar watched her, and Kylaryn caught sight of her son's eyes flicking to the banner with his father on it. She winced, crinkling the scales of her muzzle and laying her spines flat against her head. "I'm sorry, Valar. I...I would have taken them down if I'd thought about."

"It's alright," Valar said. He followed after his mother, but his eyes kept returning to the image of his father. He looked so young, vibrant.

"You look so much like him," Kylaryn said, peering up at the old image. "If your father had blue paws, that could be you on that banner."

"Those are from Sigil Stones, aren't they," Valar asked, his spined tail clattering against the floor.

"Yes," Kylaryn said. "I took them when we fled. Nary and Kor did not want theirs, I suspect because Nary did not want Kor to have to look at an image of himself before his injury. They took Ary's, though."

"What about the one of me, before the fall of the city? When I was older?"

Kylaryn smiled a little. "I...I have it. I thought...you..." The blue dragon faltered a little, and sighed. She licked her nose. "I had a room here, made up for you. For when you brought your mate and daughter to visit. I mean...if...you brought your mate and daughter to visit. I put it...I put it up in there."

Kylaryn took a step towards Valar, and he took a step back. He held up a paw. "Not yet, Mother. I do not think we can make amends just yet. Not till this..." He glanced at Krek, flaring his spines. The dragon took a moment to make sure his voice did not tremble. Bad enough his heart was already fluttering, his stomach lurching. "Problem is resolved."

Kylaryn gave a simple nod, and settled herself on her haunches. She curled her tail around her body, staring at the gryphon. "So what have you told my son, Bird?"

Krek did not answer right away. Instead, he simply stared back at Kylaryn. It had been many years since he'd seen the old dragoness. She had always been an especially impressive female. He knew where Valar got some of his determination and iron will from. For all the years Valyrym had been imprisoned, Kylaryn had been at war. She'd been marked with a multitude of scars that had long since faded, and now adorned her like pale blue runes of strength. Even by the standards of a dragon, Kylaryn had a body that may as well be cut from stone. Krek had certainly never seen a dragon who moved with quite as much fluid grace or silent power. Kylaryn's body had been forged by a lifetime of war, and her soul by decades of sorrow and anger. Her eyes were silver fire that threatened to burn the feathers from Krek's wings with their mercury glare.

Glancing at the banner, Krek could see how much she had changed over the years. The pale blues that once marked much of her form had darkened greatly. The indigos along her back had spread over much of her body, darkening her wings, and the top half of her limbs. Darker striations ran down her tail, as well. Her underside, from her throat over her chest and all down her belly was still a paler shade, a sky blue tone that also splashed across her thighs. Here and there, hints of gray had come in since the last time Krek had seen her. It faintly tipped her muzzle, and edged her wings. Nonetheless she still looked as though she could rip Krek in half. Hopefully he'd never find out.

Krek finally sighed, and spoke the honest truth. "I have told your son goodbye."

Kylaryn blinked, pulling her head back. "Goodbye?"

"Yes," Krek said softly. "Because I believe you are going to try and kill Kathlyn."

"Kathlyn," Kylaryn said, a hint of sarcastic derision rising in her voice. "How amusingly informal of you. I'd almost forgotten you served as her little house bird these days. Flitting about her home, whispering secrets into her ear."

"Mother..." Valar said, growling.

"Don't act like you don't know, Valar," Kylaryn growled right back at him. The anxiety she'd felt earlier was melting away into anger tinged with sorrow. If she yelled at Valar now, if she fought with him, later it would tear her apart. But for now she would speak her mind. They had come here for answers, and for honesty, and that was what she would give them. "He is Illandra's greatest spy, stealing secrets from those he calls friend and whispering them in her ear. Makes it that much easier for the Queen to twist the knife later."

"He is our friend, mother," Valar said, hissing.

"He is your friend," Kylaryn said, snapping her jaws. "Consider yourself lucky for it. You're likely the only friend he hasn't yet stabbed in the back. Or filled with rumors and falsehoods, poison that drips from his beak like venom."

"That is not true, Mother!" Valar jumped to his feet, anger rising in the young dragon's heart.

"Is it not?" Kylaryn tossed her head, snorting. Then she turned her gaze back to the gryphon. "Tell me then, Bird. What would the Queen's death have to do with your farewells to my son?"

Krek kept his voice even despite the emotions that caused his wings to shake at his sides. "You know well enough."

"I want to hear you say it."

"Your son is one of my two very best friends in all this world." Krek turned his head towards Valar, softening his gaze a moment. "Valar is one of only two people that I would happily give my own life to protect. I would die for Valar." Then he turned his roiling emerald eyes back on the blue dragon, narrowing them. Passion rose in his heart and in his voice. As he spoke his claws unsheathed. "The other person is Kathlyn. I would gladly give my life if it meant even the slimmest chance that she might live. If you come to slay her, you shall have to take my life first. As I suspect you will." He lowered his voice, glancing at Valar. "That is why I came to tell your son goodbye."

"Then you are a fool," Kylaryn whispered.

"Would you not lay down your life for the one you loved, Mother?" Valar strode towards her, growling in his throat. "If you could give your life to save mine, would you not do it? Or to save Voskalar? Did I not hear you once whisper through your tears that you would have gladly taken Amaleen's place in that fire if it kept Father from..."

Kylaryn lashed out with her paw and slapped Valar so hard across the muzzle it staggered him. "Don't you say that! You may hate me now, Valar, and you may have reason to do so, but I will not let you tear the hardest moments of my life out of my heart, and expose them before the bird! Those are private moments between you and I, and I will not have you speak of them in such company. And this...Queen!" Kylaryn hissed through her teeth. "Does not deserve comparison to someone so pure as Amaleen."

Valar held his muzzle a moment, pain burning in his nose, and tears in his eyes. He took a breath, and let it out slowly. He knew he'd gone a step too far. There were some things his mother told him in confidence that he swore to keep to himself. It was a dark moment, and he doubted she even meant it, yet Valar knew Valyrym's decision to leave them behind was as much a scar on his mother's heart as it was his own.

That night, when he was still young. When he had cried and screamed and shrieked and begged her to bring back father.

The night she told him his father was dead. And she had cried and cried with him. At the time he thought she cried for Father's death. Yet now he knew she cried because Valyrym lived yet she knew she would never see him again. Kylaryn knew he would never come back to her. She cried because she knew she would have to tell that lie to Valar for decades.

In her pain she had spoken a heartrending truth Valar didn't fully understand until later in life.

I would gladly lie down in that fire in Amaleen's stead, if it meant your father was still here for you.

Valar sniffed a few times, fighting back tears. He raised his voice to make sure his mother heard him, spines rising with it. "I do not hate you, Mother. Do not mistake anger and pain for hatred. I shall always love you but I am not sure I can forgive you for such a thing." He licked his nose, lowering his paw. "But I am sorry for the words I just spoke." He sniffed again, shaking his head to try and clear the fog of emotional pain. The tears that threatened to spill down the young dragon's muzzle caused his golden eyes and silver flecks to shine all the more brightly. "But I must know. Is Krek right? Do you intend to kill the Queen? Please, do not lie to me."

Kylaryn sagged a little bit. Glimmers of anguish flickered in her silver eyes. She was angry with herself for striking Valar. His apology only made her feel worse and as her spines pinned to her head, her wings drooped at her sides. "Oh, my Love, I think I have lied to you enough." Kylaryn's voice trembled, and her heart sank for the things she had to tell her son. "Yes, Valar. I intend to kill the Queen." She slowly turned her gaze towards the gryphon. "No matter who stands in the way."

"I shall defend her to the last drop of blood," Krek said, his voice a whisper forged of iron.

"Than I shall be forced to bleed you dry," Kylaryn replied, her own voice soft and resigned as if she were discussing events that had already happened.

"Mother!" Valar snapped at her, flaring his blue edged wings. "What manner of madness is this?"

"It is not madness, Valar," Kylaryn said, gazing at her son. "It is victory."

"It is murder!" Valar hissed. "You cannot just kill an innocent woman!"

"She is not innocent, Valar," Kylaryn unsheathed her claws, growling. "She is not a civilian. She is the ruler of an enemy nation, and that makes her the most legitimate target of all. The deaths of all our people that have come since she ascended the throne are blood upon her hands, sins upon her head. She rules over the land that murders our kin, slaughters our allies, and steals our homes. She idly sits her throne while her people push Aran'alians into the mud and put boots to their throat. The Queen may not call it a war, but she has carried on her fight against us just the same. When I strike her down, it will not be an act of murder. It will be an act of war."

"War?" Valar flared his spines, taking a step towards his mother. "You lead groups of rebels and assassins, yes, but I grow weary of hearing you talk of war. The war is over, mother, we lost! Yet you talk of war as though you still have armies spread across some battlefield!"

"I do," Kylaryn said. "I have an army everywhere, Valar. An army that I have pieced together and cultivated for over one hundred years." She flicked her eyes to the gryphon, dragging her claws along the stone floor. "While Illandra forgets the war that drove us from our homes, while their people put their boots to the necks of Aran'alians everywhere, my army grows. My army spreads. We are everywhere, Valar, and we are poised to strike. This war has gone on for generations, and soon..." Kylaryn smiled a little, then bared her fangs. "Soon it will end with the victory of Aran'alia."

"What are you talking about?" Krek said, opening his wings, flaring his silver edge-feathers. "Killing Kathlyn will not bring you victory. If anything, it will spur her son into rash action. He may well declare open war against Aran'alia again in his mother's name."

"Let him," Kylaryn spat. "Let him stretch what forces he has left to the breaking point. Let the Illandrans dash themselves against the wild lands once again. They will remember how many men they lost before. This time, their allies will not be so eager to join the cause. Their enemies, however..." Kylaryn turned glared at the gryphon, tilting her head and flaring her wings. "Surely you know this. Your Queen's enemies watch with hungry eyes, Bird. They watch for weakness and they wait to strike."

Kylaryn paused, then curled her neck a little, eyes narrowed to silver slits. "And how are your coffers these days? Flush with coin enough to support another war in foreign lands? Are your cities stable, and prosperous? I'm sure they are, since they're filled with cheap labor. And how about you, Bird?" Kylaryn's voice grew darker and colder. "You who fly to distant lands to count your enemies, and your allies. To judge their allegiance or sow distrust among your enemies. I wonder what else you count, Bird? When you fly south, do you count the dragons in the skies? I have. I have counted them. I have found their clans and called upon them. And they have answered me. Dragons have very long memories, Bird, and mine was not the only clan Illandra scattered to the winds."

Krek sucked in a breath as realization began to dawn on him. His emerald eyes widened. "By the Gods..."

"You think you are the only one who can gather secrets, Bird, but I know all about Illandra. I know your economy falters, unrest ferments among the Aran'alians. Your army is stretched thin holding so many conquered lands. So by all means, tell the prince to declare war on his own provinces to crush the rebels and the dragon that murdered his mother. He will find not a rag-tag militia, but an army waiting to strike at him at any moment, from any place. And should he get far enough, he will find not one dragon but an army of them. So yes, let the Prince and Illandra wage war for vengeance. Let him seek Blood For Blood. It will ruin Illandra as surely as it ruined Valyrym. Illandra will shatter like stone beneath a hammer, and Aran'alia shall be reborn."

Krek snarled, his claws bared in fury. How could Kylaryn be so callous? "So that is what this is about? You would murder Kathlyn just to rouse the Prince into vengeance?"

"I would kill Kathlyn because she is the Queen of the nation that is my greatest enemy," Kylaryn said, snapping her jaws. "What happens next is upon the prince, but it is the beginning of the end of Illandra either way."

"And if the Prince doesn't rise to your bait?" Valar spat, hissing at his mother.

"He may have little choice," Kylaryn replied, flaring out her wings. "The news of the Queen's death will be a tolling bell that calls my people to action."

Krek's whole body was trembling now. It took all his will just to keep himself from attacking Kylaryn then and there. How dare she use Kathlyn as such a pawn. "You would find invading Illandra a far more daunting prospect than luring them into a trap."

Kylaryn watched the gryphon closely for a moment. She rose to all fours, and began to stalk towards him, closing the distance till her muzzle nearly brushed his beak. Kylaryn stared into his emerald eyes, silently daring the bird to bring claw and beak to bear against her. "I have already invaded Illandra."

Valar forced his way between his mother and his friend. Neither of them seemed to want to budge, so he gave Krek a shove out of the way. Then Valar twisted himself to stand between them and bar them from each other. "What are you talking about, Mother?"

"I think the Bird knows," Kylaryn said, softly. She lifted her head, peering down at Krek, tilting her head. "Kathlyn's parents made it so much easier."

Krek's beak dropped open. Oh. Gods. "The refugees..."

"....Are in every city in Illandra," Kylaryn said, coldly regarding the gryphon over her son's wings. "Looked down upon, scorned, discriminated against. In every corner of the country, I have filled their ranks with my men. It was difficult at first, to hide soldiers and conspirators amongst the ranks of refugees. But we guided many of the refugees to Illandra for a reason. And when the old king and queen decided to finally do something noble and throw open the gates of their city for all who sought shelter there...it was almost too easy."

Kylaryn glanced away a moment, her tone softening. "You know, at the time, I actually had hope. I thought perhaps they would change things, then. But it was one bright drop in an ocean of darkness, and the more Aran'alians they let inside the more they were marginalized. It simply pushed more and more of them to our cause. And now..." Kylaryn lifted her forepaw pads up, unsheathing her claws in the air. "Now I have an army inside Illandra. An army that is hidden in plain sight, and ready to strike at Illandra's very heart when the signal is given. When the bell tolls, and chaos descends. That is when we rise."

"You...you cannot be serious..." Valar stared at his mother in horror. He knew she would not let this war go, but never in his life had he imagined the level to which she had taken it.

"How could you even..." Krek seemed just as baffled, and just as horrified.

"I told you," Kylaryn said, resignation creeping into her voice. "Dragons have very long memories, and very long lives. When humans plan for the future, they plan what, ten years? Twenty? I have planned for decades, Krek, for a century. In that time I have slowly put the pieces together. I have planned for the future, and I have marshaled my army, and I have found the chink in Illandra's armor. Now I shall put my claws to it and bleed them dry. There is only one way for this war to end, Krek. With Aran'alia's victory."

Valar's breath shook in his body. He turned towards his mother, subtly pushing Krek back away from her. He was starting to fear for his friend. This did not sound like information Kylaryn was going to want to let him leave with. Valar never should have brought Krek here.

"This will not fix things, Mother," Valar said, his voice trembling. "This will make things worse. If you do what you are talking about, you are only doing to Illandra what Illandra did to us. You will bring unto them the same years of suffering that Aran'alia endured. They will desire to strike back at you just as you struck back at them. That does not break the cycle, that continues it! That is not victory, Mother." Valar's voice grew taut. Gods. She was starting to sound like his father. "That is vengeance."

"In this instance, my son," Kylaryn said, her voice laden with cold determination. "They are one and the same."

There was no anger left in Valar, only despair over the depths to which his mother had fallen. "You fly upon a stormy wind, Mother. That same current once carried my father to his ruin. If you fly it any further I will not be here to watch you fall." Tears began to brim in the young dragon's eyes.

Kylaryn grit her teeth, fighting back a rising wave of emotions that threatened to wash her away completely. She would not cry now. Later, she could cry to Voskalar, when Valar was gone. "I would prefer it that way, my son. I would never wish the pain upon you that witnessing my actions would bring."

"And what about the pain I feel now?" Valar cried out, flaring out his half-crippled wing. "No one who did this to me is alive, Mother! No one who took Aran'alia from us is alive." His voice softened for a moment. "No one who imprisoned father is alive. You are seeking vengeance upon those who had nothing to do with the war we once fought." Soon Valar's voice was rising again, as did the spines all around his head. "You openly claim to be prepared to slay my best friend! Do you not see the pain that brings me? Do you think I will just stand idly by while you tear him-"

"Do not, Valar!" Kylaryn snarled with sudden, fearful fury. "Do not choose sides. You chose peace, and I freely admit you are the wisest in our family for it. Do not throw that away now and pick a side to fight."

"I choose no side, Mother," Valar snarled right back at her. His claws unsheathed on instinct. "I choose only to protect my friends. Krek will not let you slay Kathlyn without getting through him, and I will not let you slay Krek without going through me! So what do you say to that, Mother?" Valar snapped his jaws in his mother's face, inches from her nose. "Have you planned for that eventuality as well?"

Somewhere deep inside her, Kylaryn's heart cracked. She had not considered that. She flinched, her eyes wavering as she stepped back from Valar. "Stay out of it, Valar. Please, just stay out of it."

"Or what, Mother?" Valar advanced on her as she stepped away. "Will you strike me down to ensure your plan succeeds? I will call your bluff if I must, mother."

"It is no bluff, Valar," Kylaryn whispered, her voice a desperate plea. She could never take his life, but she would not have to slay him in battle to defeat him. Yet it would ruin her heart forever to fight Valar, let alone to make him witness Krek's death. "Please, by any love you have left for me, stay out of it."

"I have a heart filled with love for you, Mother," Valar said, stepping towards her again till his blue-marked nose brushed her own. "And I always will. But I cannot stay out of this any longer. When you endanger my friends you force me to protect them..."

"So be it, Valar," Kylaryn said, closing her eyes. Tears squeezed their way free and left hot wet streaks on the dark blue scales of her face. "So be it."

"This does not have to go any further, Mother," Valar insisted, nosing her a little. "Call this madness off before it descends into something that cannot be undone."

It was too late for that. But Kylaryn had nothing left to say about it. She sighed to herself. After a moment, she opened her eyes, staring into Valar's wet golden gaze. "I still see him in your eyes, Valar. I am ever so sorry for all the years I lied to you."

Valar took a step back away from his mother. For some reason, that simple apology coming so unexpectedly set him on edge more than anything else. "I do not think this is an appropriate time for that discussion mother."

"Do you know how I justify it to myself?" Kylaryn asked, blinking away tears. She cocked her head, sniffing. "How I found slumber at night, when I told you your father was dead? How I find it now, knowing how justified your anger is."

"It kept me alive," Valar said, answering before he could stop himself.

"It kept you alive," Kylaryn said, hardening her voice again. "I knew, Valar, that if you knew Valyrym was alive you would try to free him. I am sure by now you have admitted as much to yourself. Just as I am sure you know that any such attempt would lead to your death."

Valar glanced down at his paws, curling his tail a little. He took another subtle step backwards, towards the door. With a wing, he gently pulled Krek closer to himself. If his mother tried anything now, he was ready to protect his friend. "Yes. I know."

"I have seen the citadel in which they keep him," Kylaryn said. "As have you, have you not?"

Valar gave a sullen nod. Krek had helped that to happen for them, in the years past.

"Then you know why it would be suicide for any number of dragons to try and rescue him. Vos and Nary and I talked about it many times over. We even thought about sending agents with ghost stones in. And yet, we always came to the same conclusion. Any attempt to free him by force would only lead to our death. I knew as much long before you were ever old enough to think about trying to rescue him. I knew you had to believe he was dead until you were old enough to make the wiser decision."

Kylaryn took a step towards Valar, and Valar stepped back, bringing Krek with him. "There came a time I had to let him go, Valar. For my own sanity. If I fixated on Valyrym any longer, if I spent my days seeking the impossible, desiring vengeance, then I would have fallen into madness just as he did. I could not afford it because I had you to raise, and I had Kylyra to raise, and later, Voskyr. Telling you...telling you and your sister that your father was dead made it easier for me to believe it myself for a time. It made it easier for me to move on, and protect you all through the war." She took a deep breath, her blue plated chest slowly expanding till the plates were nearly separated. "But it protected your father, too."

"What do you mean?" Valar asked, cocking his head a little. With his tail, he touched one of Krek's hind legs, trying to ease the bird almost imperceptibly towards the door. "How did it protect my father?"

"I doubt there was much of him left by then," Kylaryn said. "Physically, or mentally. But...I tried to help him cope, tried to help him survive what I cannot imagine enduring myself. The old poetry book I had you give the bird to bring him, for example. Yet I knew Valyrym well enough to know what would keep him going in that hole. And I knew it was not me." Kylaryn stared at her son a moment. "It was you. I knew in those last days, I was not the hardest thing for him to leave behind. You were. His hope that you would someday fly was almost enough to keep him with us."

Valar cringed at that. Almost enough.

"Whatever was left of him, Valar, if you had tried to free him you would have destroyed it. You would have shattered whatever patchwork heart he had left."

"How would I..." Valar realized the answer before he'd even finished the question.

"Had you tried to save him in your angry youth, you would have failed." Kylaryn's voice trembled a little bit. "You would have dashed yourself to death against Illandra's walls, so near to your father yet so far away. Valyrym would have heard your dying screams, my son. I told you your father was dead so Valyrym did not have to hear you die."

Valar closed his eyes, flattening his ears against his head. The very idea sent trickles of ice running down the dragon's spine. Valar may have felt far more anger at his father than he'd like to admit, yet he'd never want to put the old bastard through something like that. If anything were to happen to Ayly while he was unable to stop it...Valar swallowed hard as the thought made his belly lurch. It was not enough to give him reason to offer his mother forgiveness, but it was a facet to her decision he had not considered.

"You see, Valar," Kylaryn said gently, silver eyes wet and burning. "There are always things that go unseen, unknown. There are always more factors at play than you realize. I was protecting two dragons I loved, not just one."

"There is a factor you have not realized, as well," Krek said suddenly, glaring at Kylaryn as he stood near Valar.

Kylaryn slowly turned her head back towards the gryphon. A growl built in her throat as she flared up her indigo spines. She glared at Krek as though he was suddenly interrupting a very private conversation. She hissed at him, but when she moved towards the gryphon, Valar blocked her again. For now Kylaryn held her ground, waiting for the gryphon to explain himself.

Krek clacked his beak, glaring right back at her. His silver edged wings were half extended, his claws all unsheathed. "You clearly know that Kathlyn is going upon a journey, but do you know why?"

Kylaryn snorted. "She wishes negotiations with the Aran'alian leadership."

Krek's mobile beak twisted a little as he smirked, flaring his crown feathers. "Not as well informed as you think, then."

"What are you babbling about, Bird?" Kylaryn pressed against Valar, who tensed up and stood his ground.

Krek stared at her a moment, green eyes whirling. "Kathlyn is going to offer Aran'alia their freedom."

For a moment, that scarcely seemed to register with Kylaryn. She blinked, knit her eye ridges, and then slowly pulled her head back. "...What do you mean?"

"I mean," Krek hissed, stepping towards Kylaryn as though adding physical force to their battle of wills. Valar snapped his head around towards his friend to freeze the gryphon in place. Krek heeded Valar's advice, but kept speaking. "Exactly what I say. Kathlyn has been working in secret to liberate Aran'alia. And Vurnel. And half a dozen other conquered provinces if this goes well. She faces great opposition among her own advisers and her own people. So much so that counting myself, and the two of you, there are perhaps a dozen people who know the true nature of his journey. Most think this is about trade negotiations with the people currently in charge of Aran'alia. It is not. It is about one thing." Krek held up a paw as though offering it in peace. "It is about freedom."

"You lie," Kylaryn hissed at the gryphon, flaring her wings.

"He tells the truth, Mother," Valar insisted.

"And how would you know, Valar?" Kylaryn swept her furious silver gaze between the two of them, her indigo tail lashing like a furious snake. "Because the bird tells you? Yes, I think we can all trust every word that drips from his beak like bile."

"I speak the truth in this," Krek said, his tone softening just a little.

Kylaryn growled at her, baring her fangs. "Just as you spoke the truth to me, when you swore you were not going to go work for Illandra?"

Krek's wings sagged a little. Some wounds would never quite mend. "I went to work for Kathlyn, not Illandra."

"You see, Valar?" Kylaryn dismissively waved her paw at the gryphon. "These are the sorts of half-truths and twisted words he peddles us. Tells us just what he thinks we want to hear, to believe whatever he needs us to. Perhaps he even believes his own lies from time to time." She snorted, tossing her horned head. "Or does it just make it easier for you to lie to us when you can twist your words around to justify them? When you can tell yourself you were not lying to me, because working for Kathlyn is somehow different than working for my greatest enemy."

"None of that matters," Krek suddenly spat. "I speak the truth here and now! Kathlyn desires only peace! She knows you will try and slay her, yet she will undertake this journey anyway, simply because she believes it is the right thing to do. She knows what a monster Illandra has become, and she knows she is the only one who can put that monster down."

"Perhaps if you had not lied to us so many times before, I might find this deception a little more convincing." Kylaryn rumbled to herself, watching the bird carefully.

"Mother, he is not..."

"Enough, Valar," Kylaryn snapped at her son. "Let the bird spill his own lies if he wishes."

"They are not lies!" Krek shouted. Gods, of all the times to need someone to believe the truth rather than a simple deception. Krek pulled away from Valar, anger rising in his blood. "Damn it, Kylaryn, can you not see what you're going to do? Kathlyn is going to offer Aran'alia their liberation." Krek advanced towards Kylaryn like a stalking lion. When Valar tried to snatch his tail to stop him, Krek yanked it away. He pinned his ears back, hissing at the dragoness. "Kathlyn wishes a real and lasting peace, and she is the only one who can deliver it! If you slay her, you will forever end Aran'alia's chance to life free, and peaceful. Because even if you conquer Illandra? Then they will in turn rise against you! You'll be every bit the monster to them that Illandra is to you. If you can't get past your own blindness long enough to let this go..."

When Krek drew too near, Kylaryn was on him an instant. She seized the gryphon's throat in a paw, snarling in his face. "Do not deign to lecture me about monsters, Bird!"

"Mother!" Valar grit his teeth, afraid to intervene while Kylaryn held the gryphon's throat within her grasp, claws at his neck. "Let him go!"

Gagging, Krek clutched at Kylaryn's paw around his throat. Krek stumbled a little on three paws as Kylaryn pulled him forward. She lifted her paw, forcing Krek to rise up onto his hind legs a little. The gryphon grabbed at his throat with both his forepaws. He struggled for breath, wheezing when Kylaryn relaxed her grip just a little.

"Yet...a monster is...what you are...becoming!"

Kylaryn threw her head back and roared. The sound seemed to grow and grow as it echoed and bounced off the walls as though furious to be trapped within the chamber. Krek struggled against her grasp, and Kylaryn reared back onto her hind legs. The movement forced Krek to rise further as well or be hoisted up by his throat. As soon as he was rising, Kylaryn snatched his foreleg just where it met his body, and pivoted herself around. Throwing her weight into it, Kylaryn hurled the gryphon towards the wall of the chamber, dropping back to all fours as soon as she let him go.

Krek squawked in surprise as he flew through the air. Like a startled feline he nonetheless managed to twist himself around and land upon his paws, stumbling a little. Before he'd even started to get his balance Kylaryn was upon him. Once more the dragoness snatched the black gryphon by the throat. This time she threw him up against the wall, banging his wings against the stone. Kylaryn pinned Krek to the wall by his neck, curling her head down until she was nearly nose to beak with him. The dragoness tightened her grip until she could feel his pulse thumping against the pads of her paw, and the gryphon's wheezing gags were cut to breathless silence.

Krek struggled for air a few moments. He beat his silver-edged wings against the wall, feathers ruffling ineffectively. He dug his claws into Kylaryn's foreleg till he drew dribbling lines of red blood from her blue scales, but she scarcely seemed to notice. Krek's green eyes bugged out and rolled back a little, his thin pink tongue protruded when his beak hung open.

This time Valar tried to intervene, but once again his mother was faster than either of them. As soon as Valar ran forward to try and free his friend, Kylaryn twisted around, pushing Krek along the wall away from Valar. At the same time she lashed out with her tail and twisted it around Valar's neck, just below his jaw. She did not tighten it down the way she had her paw around Krek's throat, but she kept her tail entwined firmly enough to prevent Valar from going anywhere. Valar shook his head, hissing at her, grasping at her tail.

"Mother!" He wheezed, furious and terrified for the gryphon. "Stop this at once! He cannot breathe!" As Kylaryn seemed to ignore him, the anger began to bleed from Valar's voice, increasingly replaced by a plea for mercy. "Mother! Please, let him go!"

"Listen to me very carefully, Bird," Kylaryn said, focused only on the gryphon held at her mercy. Her voice was a hissing whisper that nevertheless carried throughout the room. "If you lie to me about this now, I will end you right here. Nod if you understand that."

Krek gave a single nod, and Kylaryn eased her grasp just long enough to let the gryphon draw in a ragged breath. Then she squeezed the gryphon's throat even tighter than before. Krek thrashed helplessly, black feathered wings pounding against the wall. His mind reeled as pain sang in his lungs and throat. Fear tightly clutched his ever-accelerating heart. Kylaryn was far stronger than he was, she might crush his throat by accident in her anger. He tried to think of options. Lash out with his hind paws, try and sink his claws into Kylaryn's belly. He wasn't sure he could get them deeply enough even if it wouldn't leave him hanging from her grasp by his throat.

"Mother!" Valar screamed, sinking his claws into Kylaryn's tail till blood ran across them.

Kylaryn shot her head around, baring her fangs at him. "Stop that, Valar! I have no intention of harming him further so long as speaks only the truth. But I will not have this spying bird spit lies to me about the Queen in my own home!"

"Mother, if you so much as..."

"Silence, Valar," Kylaryn said, her voice filled with silken menace and barely hidden anguish. She did not want to do this. Not to Krek, not to Valar. Yet she had no choice. She had to know. "So long as I have his life in my grasp, you will do nothing but listen."

Valar stood trembling behind his mother. He looked at Krek, and saw the terror in Krek's green eyes mirrored his own. Usually, he'd expect to see a strange sort of calmness there. The gryphon had been in enough near-death situations to understand when struggling and fighting would not help. This time, though, Krek wasn't sure Kylaryn wasn't going to kill him anyway. Krek tried to nod at Valar to reassure his friend but couldn't move his head very well.

Valar took a deep breath to try and steady himself. The ferocious pounding of his heart made his scars ache. He never should have brought Krek here. Yet how could he know how far his mother had fallen? "Please...just tell her the truth, Krek."

"Yes, Krek," Kylaryn snarled into the gryphon's ear. She slowly relaxed her tail from around Valar's neck now that he seemed to have accepted he could not stop his mother from handling this her way. "Tell me the truth. Why is Kathlyn really going on this journey?"

Krek exhaled, then drew in a wheezing breath when Kylaryn relaxed her grip enough to let the gryphon speak. He locked his emerald eyes on Kylaryn's silver gaze, his fore paws still locked around Kylaryn's wrist. Her blue scales were slicked with blood. When he spoke, his voice was a forceful growl that shook with pride, determination, and a righteousness he rarely allowed himself. It might cost him his life if Kylaryn did not believe him, but he was going to do as she asked. He was going to tell her the truth. "To set. Aran'alia. Free."

Kylaryn growled, and her grip began to tighten again. She could feel the gryphon's heartbeat mirrored in his pulse beneath her pads. His heart beat fast and strong, fearful. As it rightly should be. She could kill the bird here and now, remove one of the biggest obstacles in her path to slaying the Queen. And yet... Kylaryn could see the truth shining in the gryphon's eyes. She could hear it burning in his voice. Krek really did love Kathlyn, and...

Kathlyn really did wish to free Aran'alia.

With a hiss, Kylaryn released the gryphon and withdrew from him. Krek collapsed to the floor, clutching at his throat with both forepaws. Valar rushed over to the gryphon to try and help him. Krek gave the dragon a weak shove, wheezing something about being just fine. Kylaryn watched them for a moment, her heart sinking yet again. Some days she hated herself for the things she had to do. "I believe you, Gryphon."

When Krek had gotten his breath back, Valar rose up from him, and whirled around on his mother. Valar surged towards her and lashed out with a front paw, striking Kylaryn across the muzzle as hard as he could. The blow surprised her more than it should have, and the strength of it was enough to stagger the older female dragon. She cried out in startled pain and stumbled away from him. Instincts unleashed her claws and screamed for her to strike back at the dragon who'd hit her, but she fought the urge. She'd already struck Valar once today, and she did not want to do so again despite the fact her son seemed clearly ready to fight her if he must.

"What's wrong with you!" Valar snarled at her, advancing on her when she caught her balance. "You could have killed him!"

"I had to give him reason to be honest," Kylaryn said, slowly forcing her claws back into their sheaths.

"He_was_ being honest!" Valar snarled at her. His golden-hued eyes burned just like Valyrym's had so many years ago when he told Kylaryn he was going to fight the war with Illandra, simply because it was right.

"So it seems," Kylaryn murmured softly.

Valar watched her a moment. There was an entire ocean of uncertainty heaving behind his mother's silver eyes, and the waters were darker than he'd ever seen them. "What's happened to you, mother?"

"The wind, Valar," Kylaryn murmured. "The wind has long since changed me."

"What does that even mean?" Valar hissed, shaking his head.

Kylaryn lifted a paw, inspecting the wounds Krek's claws had made. She'd barely noticed them in her anger, but now they were beginning to sting and throb. She licked at them, washing away some of the blood. She wasn't sure she could properly answer Valar's question. She licked at her paw a few more times, mulling the answers over.

"Don't ignore me," Valar said as though growing impatient. He made no attempt to help her clean her wounds. Instead, he walked back to where Krek was sitting, and settled himself next to him. He put a wing around his friend, and gently licked the gryphon's cheek. "You never would have done this when we were all younger."

"I cannot protect you forever, Valar." Kylaryn set her paw down, gazing longingly at her son. How she wished things could have been different for all of them.

"Stop evading my questions." Valar glared at his mother a moment, growling under his breath. He dragged his claws against the floor.

Kylaryn slowly tilted her head. She coiled her tail, it left a trail of blood on the stone floor from where Valar's claws had dug beneath her scales. "You know the humans call me The Wind That Carries. But do you know why I chose that name?"

Valar took a deep breath, and let it out in a slow sigh. He looked Krek over a moment, then turned his attention back to his mother. At least she seemed to have calmed. When the time was right, he was going to leave this place, he was going to make sure Krek made it out safely, and he was never going to return. "I suspect it has to do with Father."

"In the beginning, it did." Kylaryn watched him closely, a terrible sort of numbness settling in upon her now. She'd just broken Valar's heart, and she could see it in his eyes. Like his father, there were times her firstborn simply could not hide his thoughts. His eyes were silver-speckled golden windows that often let far too much of his soul shine through. At least Valyrym could hide things when he tried. Valar had never quite had that ability. "I am sorry, Valar."

"No you're not," Valar said. "When someone is sorry, they don't just say it. They act. They make things better."

"In time, I shall."

"No." Valar said, glaring at his mother. "You're going to make things worse."

Kylaryn flared up her spines, baring her fangs. For a moment, she wondered if Valar was right. But Illandra had done this world far too much harm. They had to be stopped and Kylaryn was going to stop them. For Aran'alia. She could only hope that one day, Valar would come to understand that. That one day, Valar would come to forgive her.

"Just before your father left us, we talked in the hills." Kylaryn turned her head away as if unable to look Valar in the eye. Memories began to drift like lingering dreams behind her silver eyes. "I confessed to him then just how long I had loved him, and I told him how I regretted all the chances I had to tell him of that love when it might have made a difference. When it might have kept us together. When it might have changed our lives. To think that so simple a thing to say..." Kylaryn lifted a bloodied paw, grasping at specters in the air. "Might have kept him with us. Might have kept Aran'alia whole. Might have sent us away early, if he'd loved me instead of her. To think that one little thing could have changed so much in so many ways." Kylaryn set her paw down, glancing back at Valar. "Your father always said it was the wind. That the wind that carries had carried us apart, and that it was not our choice to make. As though somehow we dragons are simply at the mercy of the wind and that our own wings have no power to carry us without it."

Kylaryn growled to herself, shaking her head. "What a foolish thing to believe. And I was all the more the fool for believing it. For far too many years I lamented the fact that the wind had carried your father and I apart. For ages I grieved the winds that carried the Illandrans who tore our homeland asunder. I asked the uncaring skies why the wind only seemed to bring us only pain, and never happiness, never love..."

Out of the corner of her eye, Kylaryn saw bronze scales and shining eyes in the far hallway. She wondered how long Voskalar had been there. If he'd seen the whole thing he must have been fighting with himself about intervening. The lovely old bastard always did have a heart softer than he'd ever admit. A smile flickered across Kylaryn's muzzle.

"Then one day, I realized that the wind had brought me love." Kylaryn's smile grew a little more, and she licked her nose, her eyes shining in the torchlight. "For all the years I cried about your father, Valar, for all the years I worried how I would raise you and your sister and protect our homes, for all the times I felt so..." She trailed off, her voice breaking. "So utterly alone without Valyrym...love was growing in front of me and I had not seen it even as I cried into bronze scales in the dead of the night. It was not the day your father spoke of the wind that I took that name. It was the day I realized I had grown to love Voskalar. And the moment I realized that love was the moment I spoke it out loud. I would not let the wind carry him away before I ever spoke my heart aloud. No, the wind would no longer dictate the path I flew."

Kylaryn lifted her horned head high, strength returning to her voice. "I knew from that day on I would carry myself on my own wings to whichever destiny I chose, the wind be damned. No longer would I let it carry me wherever it wished. I realized that day, that I _am_The Wind That Carries. I decide my own destiny, my own fate. That was...not long before they finally took Sigil Stones. By then, I'd already evacuated you and your sister, but Vos and I went back to try and help. It..." Kylaryn closed her eyes.

"It was too late," Voskalar said from his alcove. "It was gone."

"They burned it," Kylaryn whispered, her voice trembling. "When they finally took Sigil Stones, they burned it. They razed the city that had first called us friend. They burned the homes that the humans built for us. And they burned the houses those humans lived in. Some of them they rounded up first. Others they burned in their homes...just like Amaleen."

"Before it fell, we helped evacuate as many as possible. And when the city was actually falling, we...covered the escape of those we could," Voskalar said, sighing. "But...we heard..."

"Screaming," Kylaryn continued. "All day long, screaming. From inside Sigil Stones as they burned it down. To make an example before they raised their flags over what was left. Before they decided to build their own city atop all that desecration. If you are looking for a moment, Valar, when I began to change...that was it. That was when I decided what destiny I would carry myself to. When they burned Sigil Stones to the ground with our friends still inside it, I decided then and there that The Wind That Carries would someday carry Aran'alia to victory no matter the cost."

"And now you have an army in Illandra, ready to raze it," Krek murmured, shivering. His feathers fluffed a little.

"Yes," Kylaryn said simply. "But I have no intention of burning anything to the ground. I wish victory and freedom for Aran'alia. I do not wish senseless vengeance and slaughter of innocents."

"Yet I cannot help but wonder if this so-called hidden army of yours shares that sentiment," Krek hissed, his voice still raspy.

"They will," Kylaryn said with a heavy sigh. "They want what I want."

"Kathlyn wants something better," Krek said, unable to help growling at the female. "She wants peace without more violence. You only want to prove your point."

Kylaryn bristled a little, flaring her spines. "How do you know Kathlyn tells you the truth? I believe that you think she wants peace, but how do you know she's not lying to you?"

"I cannot make my case any more clear than I already have," Krek said, some of his own anger slowly melting into fearful resignation. "Kathlyn is the greatest hope for peace Aran'alia and Illandra have. If you had a chance to talk to her, you would see that, but it is clear there is nothing more I can do to change your mind."

"Talk to her..." Kylaryn murmured a little, tilting her head. "Perhaps you will be of some use to me yet, Bird. Perhaps you could convince her to surrender herself to me if I bring you with me when I set out to find her. Perhaps she can simply...hand Illandra over to us. Then I can give it to Aran'alia peacefully. If peace is truly what she wants, I do not see why she would resist."

"You need not tease me," Krek said, glaring at her. "We both know there is a great difference between peaceful negotiating and handing your home over to a tyrant."

"Tyrant?" Kylaryn pulled her head back, snapping her jaws. "I am no tyrant, Bird. I already rule too much land and too many people for my liking. Death In The Night is not a governing body. When we have taken control of Illandra, I shall hand it over to the proper authorities from Aran'alia. To those who actually know how to properly govern a country."

"I'm sure that will put her mind at ease," the gryphon said with a snort.

"Perhaps you should have convinced her to stay home instead," Kylaryn said, smirking at him. "At least then she could remain safe inside her precious castle. Or perhaps if I take you with me as a peace offering, she will be more receptive to surrender. Then I would not have to slay her. You and her could...fly off somewhere, spend your last days together."

"That's not funny."

"It was not intended to be," Kylaryn said, narrowing her silvery eyes and lifting her spines. "I think if you ask Valyrym, he would tell you people should listen to me when I advise them to take their lover and flee."

"Valyrym," Krek said, glancing at Valar. He looked back at the dragoness again. "She's going to set him free you know."

"...What?" Kylaryn pulled her head back till her neck curled in an S shape. She flared her wings a little. "Who?"

"Kathlyn." Krek spread out his silver crown feathers. "When she returns from her journey, she's going to set Valyrym free. The dragon her nation once saw as its greatest enemy, and she is going to free him simply because she thinks it is the right thing to do. That is the kind of person you intend to slay."

For a moment, Kylaryn's jaw quavered. Her frills shook, and her wings trembled. Kathlyn was going to...free...Valyrym? Her heart fluttered and her stomach lurched. After all these years...Then she rose to her paws, growling in anger. "Do not try and use Valyrym against me! It matters little if he is freed or not, because when Illandra has fallen we shall have him freed ourselves." She glanced at Voskalar, then back at the gryphon. "I think we are done talking here, Bird. I have no desire to harm you further but you continue to press your luck. Perhaps as a peace offering, you..."

Valar jumped to his feet. That was it, then. They weren't going to let Krek leave willingly. Which meant this reunion was over. Valar shoved Krek towards the door. "Krek! Go! Fly!"

Krek did not hesitate.

---

Chapter Eight

---

The gryphon sprinted towards the door that led outside. Kylaryn snarled and bound after him, but Valar was in her way in an instant. She crashed into her son, knocking him backwards, yet he lashed out with his front paws and snatched his mother's wrists in his grasp. With a cry, Kylaryn toppled over onto Valar as Krek reached the door.

Krek grasped the handle and threw the door open. A little ways off, Kylyra was lounging in the sun. She lifted her head, and spotted the gryphon emerging. She watched him a moment but when she realized he was fleeing, she rose to her feet. Krek sprinted a few paces then leapt into the air, beating his silver-edged wings and ascending like an arrow piercing the sky. Kylyra snarled in frustration and leapt into the sky after him, beating her own larger black-edged indigo wings as swiftly as she could. As Kylyra rose up after the gryphon, she called out a warning with a great roar. Somewhere in the distance of the city and the mountains around it, other roars echoed in answer.

Valar twisted himself away from his mother. He rose to his feet and slowly backed away, filling the doorway to prevent her from chasing Krek. "Leave me be, Mother! And call my sister off of Krek!"

"She won't kill him," Kylaryn snarled right back at him, advancing.

Valar glared at his mother then swiftly spun around, swinging his tail against Kylaryn's head. He was mindful of his spines but let the bulk of his tail buffet her skull. Kylaryn cried out and stumbled a little, giving the younger dragon time to run outside. The sprint made his scarred leg ache considerably but he pushed the pain aside, turning to slam the door shut and throw his weight against it. Valar hoped Krek was already halfway out of the city. Instead, he spotted the gryphon spiraling in the darkening sky just above the plaza with Kylyra close behind. Damn that gryphon and his loyalty. Valar might not have to fear serious injury from his family, but Krek certainly did.

"Fly, you stupid bird!" Valar yelled up to his friend. He twisted himself sideways to hold his body against the door as Kylaryn tried to force it open.

"Not without you," Krek called back to him.

Valar hissed again. "I know where to meet you!" He tried to dig his claws into the stone plaza for leverage, calling out to his sister. "Kylyra! Leave him alone!"

"We don't want to hurt him," Kylya called down to her brother. "But we need to keep him here!"

"I will not let him be your bargaining chip!" Valar grunted when Kylaryn threw herself against the door, nearly dislodging her son. "Damn you, Krek, just fly away!"

"Then you shall have to talk Mother into letting him go!" Kylyra called back at Valar as she tried to snatch Krek's tufted black tail. "Until she says otherwise, the bird stays!"

Krek flicked his silver edged wings and deftly spun about in the air, his tail whipping out of her grasp. "You're asking for trouble, Kylyra! We just want to leave in peace, but I will not leave without Valar!"

Kylyra snarled at the gryphon as she spun around to follow him once more. "Land, you stupid bird! I don't want to have to hurt you!" When Krek ignored her, she growled to herself. "Come here, Stink-Bird, or I'm going to have to sink my claws through all those feathers to keep hold of you!"

"You draw my blood, Kylyra, and you cross a line!" Krek glanced back at her over his feathered wings, unsheathing his own claws. "I will defend myself!"

"You're bringing this on yourself, Krek!"

Kylyra winged her way up behind Krek again. This time rather than grab at his tail, she lashed out at his haunch and sunk claws into flesh. Krek yowled in pain, blood dribbling through black fur and falling to the ground below. To Krek, Kylyra crossed the line. He tried to warn her. Drawing the black gryphon's blood changed his mindset from evasion to defense. If there was one advantage his kind held over dragons, it was superior flight and maneuverability. It was an advantage Krek would now press.

The gryphon twisted and flicked his wings, spinning so swiftly through the air he was practically dancing. In an instant he whirled around towards Kylyra, lashing out with his front paws nearly half a dozen times before she'd even registered that the gryphon had somehow come face to face with her in midair. Claws sliced through thin scales and Kylyra squealed in pain, trying to pull her head back. Krek flicked his wings again at a different angle, acrobatically dancing along Kylyra's back. Krek slashed at her with all four sets of claws all along her back. In an effort to get away from the lines of hot pain opening up all along her back, Kylyra folded her wings and dove away from Krek.

As Kylyra began to dive, Krek pulled his own wings in and dropped onto the dragoness' back. His weight caught Kylyra off guard, pushing her from a controlled dive into a near freefall. With a terrified yowl, she flared her wings to keep from crashing as Krek rode her down to the ground. She extended her legs just in time to avoid smashing her belly against the stone. The force of their landing jammed her limbs painfully. She stumbled forward, crying out as her legs gave out beneath her. She flopped onto her belly, blood running down her back.

"Now leave me alone!" Krek hissed at her, before leaping back into the air.

When Valar saw Kylyra crash with Krek on her back, he bound away from the door, running to his injured sister's side. He snarled up at Krek as the gryphon spiraled back into the sky. "If you're about done fighting my sister, you need to get the hell out of here!"

The bloodied gryphon was not about to argue this time. After only a moment he'd already vanished as he swooped down beyond the front of the citadel. Valar stayed with Kylyra a moment, worried for her. "Kylyra, are you alright?"

Kylyra pushed herself unsteadily to her feet, flexing her wings. Blood dribbled down her scales, painting them in red lines. She winced in pain, turning to look at herself. "A few new scars. Your little friend is faster than I remember." She shook her limbs a moment, wincing as she tested each of them. "Nothing broken. Shouldn't you be following Stink-Bird?"

"I wanted to make sure you were alright," Valar said gently, licking her nose. "You are certain you are not badly injured?"

"Kylyra!" Kylaryn called out as soon as she caught sight of her bloodied daughter. Once Valar was no longer barring the door she ran towards the two siblings, skidding to a halt alongside Kylyra. She licked her neck, cleaning a few of the wounds. "You are wounded. Lay down till I can have a healer look at you."

"I can still chase him, Mother..."

"Your health is more important," Kylaryn said, growling under her breath. "Besides, not even I could catch him with a head start. But it matters not. Now lay down." She nipped her daughter's neck for emphasis.

With a sigh, Kylyra eased back to her belly. "Perhaps Voskyr can still catch him."

"Unlikely," Valar said with a snort. "Besides, has there not been enough bloodshed already?"

Kylaryn lifted her head, staring at Valar. Anger and sorrow weighted her voice. "You should go."

Valar backed away a few steps, sighing. "It doesn't have to be this way, Mother. You can still call this off."

"You're right, Valar," Kylaryn said, lapping blood from Kylyra's scales. "You can still convince Krek to make the Queen surrender."

"That is not what I meant!"

"I will not pursue him," Kylaryn said. "But if your brother or anyone else catches him I will not release him again until the Queen is dead, or in my custody."

Valar snarled under his breath, and hung his head for a moment. He grit his teeth, hissing in horrified resignation. The many roads for him to walk were narrowing to a single path. He knew what he would have to do. In all this madness, someone would have to do what was right.

Flaring his spines a little, Valar grit his jaw and glanced at Kylyra. "Good bye, Sister. May you realize the madness into which Mother has plunged you all before it's too late."

Valar ascended to the skies without another word. The young dragon had no goodbye to offer his mother.

Kylaryn had one for him, though only Kylyra was there to hear her offer it by the time the words fell from her tongue. "I am...so sorry...it came to this. Goodbye, my Love."

Kylyra nuzzled her mother. Kylaryn cleaned the blood from her daughter's face, and Kylyra wiped away the tears from her mother's scales.

---

Valar swept low over the buildings of the City Of Stairs' lower quarter. The sun had set behind the mountains, and save for a purple blush that still brightened corners of the sky, darkness had settled in over the town. Light spilled across the many streets from open windows and shone in flickering waves emanating from torchlight. Laughter drifting from tavern doors propped open in the warm summer evening sounded bitter and shallow in the young dragon's ears. The people here seemed so happy, with no idea just what his mother was leading them to. They had no idea what was unfolding in the skies above their town.

Valar's heart hammered as he sought to catch up to Krek. They needed to get as far from this town as they could before some other dragon or Death In The Night member took it upon themselves to capture the Wings of Illandra. Even in the growing darkness Valar could see his friend clearly enough. Krek was clinging to the roofs of buildings, flying as low as he dared to avoid being any easier to spot. It probably made him a lot harder for all the humans to notice, especially given how quiet his black feathers were. Yet black feathers or not, it was difficult for any creature to hide from a dragon's vision even in the midst of night. Valar thought perhaps Krek was the only creature he knew of with better night vision than a dragon.

Yet all the night vision in the world could not see through walls, and Krek could not see Voskyr laying in wait to ambush the gryphon until it was too late. Like an arrow loosed from a bow the young dragon erupted from an alleyway in a flurry of bronze wings and talons. Krek was far faster yet he never had a chance to adjust his course before Voskyr collided with him from below. Krek squawked in pained alarm as the dragon crashed into his belly and sent them both tumbling out of the sky.

"Krek!" Valar screamed in horror as his best friend and his half brother crashed atop the roof of an old wooden building. The roof was not meant to support such weight and no sooner had the two beasts landed atop it than it gave way with a terrible, splinting crack. Krek and Voskyr disappeared in a cloud of splinters and dust. A muffled cry from within told Valar the building was occupied. "Damn you, Voskyr! Leave him alone!"

Valar beat his aching wings harder yet, sprinting through the air. Even from a distance he could hear cries, snarls, and the sound of something shattering. Then the entire front of the building exploded outwards as Voskyr smashed Krek right through the wall. Debris blew outwards in a fan-shaped pattern, chunks of broken wood rolled across the cobblestone street, and Krek tumbled away from the young bronze dragon.

Krek shook his head, staggering to his feet. He flexed his wings and his paws. Nothing seemed broken, but a dull thudding ache reverberated through his bones. The gryphon had never been hurled through a wall before. Couldn't say he liked it. Voskyr was soon advancing on him, baring his fangs. The young dragon snarled.

"Been looking for a reason to beat the smugness out of you for a while, Bird," Voskyr said, growling as he flared out all his spines.

"And I thought we were friends," Krek said, circling the dragon. He had to get back to the sky.

"We were," Voskyr spat, lashing his spined tail as though ready to punch the spines into Krek's belly. "Until you betrayed us."

"I betrayed no one!" Krek hissed at the dragon.

Voskyr surged towards Krek and Krek backpedaled down the street. When the dragon drew too close to him Krek lashed out several times in rapid succession with a fore paw. Like a cat swatting at an aggressive dog, Krek's claws laid open Voskyr's nose. The hot liquid pain boiling between his nostrils was enough to bring the young dragon to an instant stop. Though as soon as Krek tried to press the advantage, Voskyr snapped at his paw, trying to bite the gryphon's claws clean off. Krek took another step back, and this time so did Voskyr. No sooner did Krek wonder what the dragon was up to than Voskyr's tail spines were sailing through the air straight for Krek's face.

Yowling, Krek dropped to the ground, the spines whistling just over his head. Voskyr's sudden pivot carried him a little too far around and his spines slammed into the wall of another home, embedding themselves in wood with a splintering thunk! Krek shot back to his feet, and leapt onto Voskyr's back. Voskyr yelped in surprise, struggling under the weight of the black feathered gryphon while he tried to free his tail. His spines soon popped free, and he began to spin himself in circles, trying to dislodge the gryphon.

Krek sunk claws into Voskyr's wing joints, tearing at the unprotected flesh there. Voskyr screamed in pain, dropping to his belly and rolling to the side. He tucked his wings as he rolled over to force the gryphon off his back. Krek jumped off the dragon before he found himself trapped beneath him. Just as fast Krek moved to try and straddle the dragon's belly to prevent him from rising. He lashed out with his fore paws at Voskyr's face, slicing up his cheeks.

With the gryphon on his belly, Voskyr couldn't easily reach him with his hind paws. He grappled at the gryphon with his front paws instead, but Krek gashed his paw pads. Voskyr yowled in pain, jerking his paws back. He tried to bite the gryphon's legs, tried to put teeth to his throat, but the gryphon's own claws and beak were faster every time. Finally, with a snarl of effort he surged upwards, rolling over and bringing the gryphon with him. Voskyr pressed Krek's wings down against the cobblestone, blood dribbling onto the gryphon. The gryphon scrabbled at the dragon's belly, but his claws had a harder time cutting through the thick plates that protected Voskyr's chest.

"I oughta kill you, you filthy little traitor!" Voskyr snarled at the gryphon, fighting to get hold of his paws.

"You already tried," Krek snarled at him, snapping his beak at anything he could. "Those spines nearly took my head off!"

In desperation, Krek heaved a hind paw upwards as sharply as he could, landing it squarely between the dragon's hind legs. "AWWWRRHHHH!!" The young dragon cried out in agony, his spines all flared up around his head, eyes bugging out. A fore paw shot back to grasp his aching testicles, and as he started to curl up, Krek tried to wriggle free.

"That's for using your spines," Krek snapped at him, pulling himself free of the dragon. He glanced up at the skies, spotting Valar swooping in. He'd been further ahead of his friend than he realized. "Valar!"

"Krek!" Valar cried out. "Fly!"

"I plan to-AAAAAH!" Krek screamed in pain as Voskyr staggered back to his paws and brought his claws to bear against the gryphon's exposed side. Claws cut through flesh and scraped bone along Krek's rib cage. Krek staggered away from the dragon, white light flashing in his vision from the intensity of the pain suddenly searing all along his flank. Blood ran swiftly enough to soak his feathers and pool upon the cobble stone.

"And that's for kicking me in the balls, you filthy pigeon!" Voskyr hissed in pain, advancing on the gryphon while enough adrenaline flooded him to keep him going.

"VOSKYR!"

Voskyr turned his head at the sound of his brother's roar. "Stay out of-"

Which was as far as he got before Valar ended his dive by slamming full-on into Voskyr's side. The impact of dragon against dragon sent both of them tumbling down the street. Voskyr screamed in agony as at least one rib snapped from the impact. Pain rolled through Valar's body as well but the older dragon was prepared for the crash, and had momentum on his side. Momentum that nearly carried him all the way through his half brother. As the two dragons rolled head over tail down the street, they battered each other with their paws. Claws and teeth clattered off thick scales and drew blood wherever they found purchase.

By the time the two fighting dragons came to a stop, Valar was atop his brother, striking out over and over with both forepaws. He knocked Voskyr's head back and forth, drew ragged gashes along his cheeks, and opened his brother's nose far worse than Krek had done. Soon Voskyr had given up fighting back and was just struggling to defend himself. When Valar saw his half-brother desperately trying to shield his face with his foreleg, he eased to a stop, panting. Blood ran from Valar's neck and shoulders, and some from his face as well. It dribbled down his blue-marked ebony scales in scarlet lines. Some of it dripped onto Voskyr's body to mingle with the bronze dragon's blood.

"Gods damn it, Voskyr!" Valar shouted at his brother through his panting. "I told you to leave him be! We were all friends, once!"

"He...betrayed us all...Valar," Voskyr said, his voice strained with pain and fatigue. He wheezed. "Valar...I can't breathe..."

Valar eased himself up, careful to keep his tail tucked protectively. "There...Just...you'll be alright..."

"No...I still..." Voskyr wheezed a little bit, fear filling his eyes. "Valar...I can't breathe...help!"

"Damn it, Voskyr," Valar hissed, though he wasn't sure who he should really be cursing. "I think its your ribs. Roll over, stand up. Take some pressure off them."

Voskyr whined in pain and fear, trying to roll over. Pain shot through his midsection and he cried out again. His face hurt where Valar had battered it and opened him up, but his ribs hurt far worse where the other dragon had collided so sharply into him. "It hurts...help me...roll over."

Valar grit his teeth. Keeping a careful eye on his brother, he called back to the gryphon. "Krek, are you alright?"

"I've lost more blood in the past," Krek said, limping towards Valar. "But not much more." Krek groaned in pain, clacking his beak. He shook his head, ruffling his feathers a little. "Valar if we are to flee, I must insist we do so now."

"And I told you several times to leave! If you'd listened to me the first time..." Valar turned towards his friend and the rest of his words died in his throat. Krek's side was soaked with blood, and more of it was dripping onto the cobblestone street. A ragged wound marked the side of his body, Valar thought he could see bone bared through the wound. "Oh...Gods, Krek..."

"I shall take your inability to finish your "I told you so" speech to mean I look as bad as I feel."

Valar tried to smile. "I've seen you looking worse." Still, it was an eerily similar reminder. "You're going to have to fly on your own this time."

"Valar," Voskyr wheezed weakly, reaching out to grasp at Valar's paw. "Please...I can hardly breathe...don't leave me like this..."

"Someone will be here soon, Voskyr..." Valar snarled in frustration. Damn it. Both his brother and his friend needed his help. He lifted his head, looking around. There were people gathering at both ends of the street, eyes watching them from the windows. No guards yet, though. Probably afraid that Valar and Krek would turn on them if they showed up. "Healers!" Valar called out. "Bring healers! Voskyr is wounded! He needs assistance!" Then he looked over at Krek, scowling. "You need help."

"I cannot stay, Valar, or Kathlyn..." Krek trailed off, unable to finish that sentence. After a moment he sighed. "I have to try and reach Kathlyn."

Down the street, a few people were calling for healers. Valar caught sight of armored guards moving between buildings. They were taking up positions of cover. Some of them had longbows, others had crossbows. He hissed in frustration, his heart still threatening to rattle the plates right off his chest. Valar nudged Krek a moment. "If you can, help me get Voskyr onto his feet."

"I shall do my best," Krek murmured, limping up alongside the bronze dragon.

"Bandages!" Valar called out. "Someone bring me plenty of bandages, and a tub of blood-cake salve."

"Do you think they'll still listen to you?" Krek asked.

"We can hope," Valar replied. He lowered his head, giving his brother's wounded cheek a tender nuzzle and a loving lick. "Voskyr, you are my brother, and I love you. I am sorry things have turned out this way. Whatever happens between us, remember that. Now...this is going to hurt, are you ready?"

Voskyr whined a little, as much at the sentiment as anything else. He nodded. "Yes, Valar."

With Krek's limited assistance, Valar was able to help Voskyr roll to his feet. Voskyr gave a muffled scream against grit teeth as he slowly rolled over. He could feel his broken ribs grinding against each other, but once he was standing up, the pressure on his lungs seemed to ease just slightly. Valar quickly moved to stand alongside him, allowing the younger male to lean against him as they moved towards a building. Once there Valar helped Voskyr lean against the recently constructed stone wall.

"There. Just...stay like that until the healers are here." Valar licked his brother's neck again, sighing. "You've a few broken ribs, I'm sure, but those are not fatal. They'll heal just fine. And those scars on your face will make you look tough to the females."

Voskyr chuckled a just a little, before pain washed over his face in a grimace. "You think so, do you?"

"Well, that's what mother and father used to tell me about my scars."

"Valar," Krek said, a note of warning in his voice.

Valar turned around to see a few humans cautiously approaching them. A man and a woman, both fairly young, the woman dressed in a green cloak with a hood obscuring her face, the man in a long sleeved blue tunic, and black breeches. Each of them carried a basket filled with bandages, and pots of herbal salve. The woman set the basket down and backed away. "Here. Take it and go, if that is your intention."

Valar picked up the basket, sniffing at the ingredients. He half expected the salves to smell like poison. But the only scents he detected were the sort of healing, herbal salves he considered himself far too familiar with. The familiarity of the scent made him scrunch his blue-marked snout in bittersweet memory. "Thank you." He glanced over at Voskyr, sighing. "I didn't want any of this. I just...wanted to talk her out of the madness she's leading you all towards. Voskyr needs your help. Please be gentle with him."

Valar saw a few more guards taking up positions, and he moved himself to stand between them and Krek. "Time to fly, Krek. Do you know our destination for tonight?"

Krek nodded weakly. "I remember it, yes."

"Good." Valar turned his head to lick his wounded friend. "Go there. Do not strain yourself, but fly as swift as you can in your condition. I will be there shortly after. Now go, before one of these guards decides to make a name for himself and puts an arrow in your throat."

Krek leapt into the air. He cried out in pain as he beat his wings, the motion tugging at his wounded ribcage. Droplets of blood splattered the road as Krek ascended. Valar hoped Krek could make their destination safely, but if he had to stop early then so be it. They would go as far as the winds would carry them. Valar found it a bitter irony he continued to use that phrase in his head, even now.

Valar turned back to his half brother, and gave him a gentle lick again. "You'll be alright, Voskyr."

Voskyr gave a trembling sigh, a look of guilt twisting his pebbly scaled face. "Thank you for not leaving me, Valar. I am...sorry."

Valar sighed, swiveling his ears back. "You only did what you thought was right, Voskyr. That's all any of us can do. Think about that when mother talks of her plans. Think about what you feel is right. If you truly believe in your heart that mother is doing the right thing, then I cannot fault you for following her into the abyss. But if you find Krek and I standing before you, trying to save the life of a good person...Remember. In our hearts, we are doing the right thing too."

Voskyr swallowed head, hanging his head a little. His wings drooped at his sides. "I understand, Valar."

Valar smiled, and nosed his sibling before backing away to get room to fly. "Farewell, Brother. May we both do what is right."

---

Chapter Nine

---

Valar could have followed Krek's trail of blood to the secret place they once shared near the far edge of the vast land known as the Forest Of Ghosts. After leaving the boundaries of the City-State of Amira, Valar saw speckles and splatters of blood that marked the ground and the trees Krek had flown over. Wet blotches that shone lightly in the moonlight. At least the frequency of the blood lessened after a while. So long as that didn't mean Krek had nearly bled out, that was one less fear to trouble Valar's heart.

Short of death or captivity, things could not have gone worse. Ever since Krek first confessed his fears to Valar, the young dragon had held out some hope that his mother would never truly try and slay the Queen of Illandra. Valar felt certain that if worst came to worst he and Krek could at least talk her out of it. Now worst had certainly come to worst, and they'd failed completely. Things were starting to spiral out of control. Valar and Krek had fought with his siblings before but never to the point of real injury. Valar and his kin loved each other in their hearts, but they now stood on opposite sides of a line long since been drawn. The further Valar flew, the more he feared the way this would end.

As he flew, Valar tried to ignore the pain that throbbed through his body. His wing hurt most of all. The old knot of scar tissue there had been quietly protesting for days already, and the battle and furious flight afterwards had turned those gentle protests into screaming complaints. His face and shoulders hurt where Voskyr's claws had found purchase. Valar let his thoughts wander to dark corners he wished he could leave unexplored to try and distract him from the pain.

Had his mother planned all along to capture Krek? Given that Kylyra had waited outside the meeting hall, and Voskyr laid in ambush along their likeliest route to leave, it seemed clear the dragons were prepared to try and capture the gryphon if Kylaryn wished it. If Valar hadn't blocked the door, would Kylaryn have fought Krek herself? If Kylyra hadn't been injured, would Valar's mother have chased the gryphon down?

Valar growled to himself as he pumped his wings. The pain that pulsed with every wing beat brought an awkwardness back to his wing strokes despite his attempts to keep them even. Perhaps he was making too much of it. Krek knew he had little chance to best Kylaryn in battle, and if she had chased him into the skies, he could have simply out-flown her. Surely Kylaryn knew that as well, knew it was no use sending anyone after Krek once he had a head start.

Hell, for all Valar knew, maybe Kylaryn actually wanted Krek to make it back to Illandra. Perhaps Kylaryn wanted Krek to reach Kathlyn, and talk her out of her journey so that The Wind would not have to kill her. Or maybe they were hoping Krek could talk her into surrender.

Gods. Trying to figure out the way his mother's mind worked was like trying to untangle a finely knotted rope with only his tail. And his eyes closed. What was it the old bastard used to say? Even to his father, Kylaryn had always been an enigma. She was a puzzle Valyrym had never solved, and Valar had done little better than his father.

Yet now the fate of a Queen and two nations may well lay with solving that very puzzle.

Valar hissed, lashing his spined tail against the air as if angry with the very wind itself. He told himself it didn't matter if Kylaryn had let Krek go on purpose, or if she'd simply been more concerned with her daughter's wellbeing than with catching the gryphon. The important thing was that Krek was alive. Despite his injury he still had a chance to keep Kathlyn from getting herself killed. Whatever the importance of making this journey on time was to Kathlyn, she'd be no good to anyone if she were slain in the attempt.

Valar hoped Krek's injuries were not too severe. The bird had lost a good amount of blood, but he had plenty left. Valar knew that well enough. Though the gashes had been deep enough to expose the gryphon's ribs, at least they would be easily stitched together once they had reached a place where someone could stitch them up. And after all, ribs were not exactly deeply buried bones. For now, they'd have to make do with salve and a simple bandage job.

Valar peered beneath himself as he swept over an ocean of trees. In the darkness, the Forest of Ghosts looked more gray than green. Valar smiled to himself for a moment. He'd missed this place. Though not as vast as the wilds of Aran'alian, the Forest of Ghosts was nonetheless a huge swath of forest that in many places was just as inhospitable and just as uninhabited. There was a reason after all that though Illandra had long since laid claim to the place, they'd done little to actually colonize it the way they had Aran'alia and Vurnel.

Much of the Forest Of Ghosts brushed up against the borders of other lands. It touched old Aran'alia, it lay against Vurnel, and it stretched on and on and lapped against other realms, as well. Most of them were part of Illandra by now, but not all. A peninsula-like swath of the Forest Of Ghosts even stretched into the heavy, rugged mountains that ran through the lands of the many far-flung City-states. In his adolescence, Valar spent some time exploring the Forest Of Ghosts. The lightly populated lands had made an excellent temporary home and hiding place for the dragons of Aran'alia after they were forced to flee their old homes.

Valar had not met Krek until a little later in his life, but once the two of them were fast friends, there were many places he was happy to take Krek to see. His destination now was just such a place. It was one of many hot springs and hidden glades deep within the Forest Of Ghosts. Krek and Valar used to go there once in a while to get away from the rest of the world. As it lay fairly near the City Of Stairs by the standards of winged beasts, they'd already decided to visit. Valar was also fairly certain neither his mother nor any of his siblings knew the place.

Of course, they'd never had a trail of blood to follow, either. Valar just hoped Kylaryn would not change her mind. He feared she had other dragons following her command now. After all she'd mentioned other clans answering her call. Valar considered that. He knew of a few other clans himself. Icy talons scraped at his heart at the thought of Aly's old clan throwing their lot in with his mother against Illandra.

What a foolish waste it would be. His mother talked of bringing peace and freedom to Aran'alia. Yet that land was long since lost. And as for the survivors of the dragon clans once scattered by humans? They had peace and freedom now. Why throw that all away to avenge something upon the children of enemies who had long since fallen to age? It made no sense to Valar. Yet he supposed he had a unique perspective on the idea of vengeance. If only the old bastard was around to explain things to Kylaryn.

An idea twitched in Valar's mind. A shame Kathlyn hadn't already released his father. He could not help but wonder if Kylaryn would listen to Valyrym. Seeing him again would certainly give her pause. Yet Valar doubted it would stop her. And it mattered little anyway, since Valyrym was locked away beneath Illandra, and the only woman with the power to set him free was about to embark on a journey that may well lead to her death.

Valar stretched his wings as far as he could, and began to glide. He slowly descended as he neared his destination. Peering down through the lush canopy of the ancient forest, Valar spotted several pools of dark water. Some of them flickered and shone silver when the moonlight hit them just right. Up ahead, he saw a clearing, and flicked his wings a few times to reorient himself towards it. Then he back-winged and swept in over the clearing, carefully dropping through the trees. He set down the baskets he carried in his jaws as he alighted in the glade.

"Bout damn time," muttered a hoarse voice from nearby.

"We don't all have the speed of gryphons, Krek," Valar said. He chuckled as he folded his wings against his body.

Valar glanced around the familiar area. It did not look to have changed at all in the years he'd been away. A dark pool of hot water lay in the center of the glade. Coils of wispy steam rose from it. The spring itself was surrounded by thick, soft moss and smooth gray stones. Knotted roots from an assortment of towering trees stretched across the ground and into the water as though thirstily draining the pool itself. Curled ivy and bramble vine crawled up the trunks of nearby trees. Tendrils of gray moss hung from the boughs nearest the water.

Krek was huddled near the edge of the water upon a patch of moss. His feathers looked wet and sticky where blood caked them. The gryphon's green eyes shone in the darkness as they caught every hint of moonlight they could. Valar sighed, the gryphon looked miserable. Not that Valar could blame him. Right now Valar wasn't sure which must hurt more. The gryphon's physical wounds, his pride, or his heart.

"Kathlyn will be alright," Valar offered, guessing the gryphon's heart needed the most support.

"She'd damn well better be," Krek grumbled.

Valar chuckled. He picked up the handle of a basket in his jaws and trotted over to Krek. He set it down, looking the gryphon over. "How do you feel?"

"A little less magnificent than usual," Krek said, turning his head back to gaze at his wounds.

"Only a little? Cause you look a lot less magnificent than usual."

"Speak for yourself," Krek said, gesturing at the dried blood on Valar's face and neck.

"You should see the other dragon," Valar chuckled, unpacking some of the bandages, and a pot of salve.

"I did," Krek murmured, tilting his head. "I don't think he expected you to hit him that hard."

"Then he shouldn't have cut you so deeply," Valar snapped. Then a hint of guilt flickered in his eyes, and he gave a little sigh. He hadn't meant to injure Voskyr that badly. "I think he'll be alright. Just a few broken ribs and a few new scars."

"And bruised balls," Krek said, allowing himself a little smirk.

"See?" Valar tilted his head. "You shouldn't have done that. You made him angry. You should have just surrendered, and then let me throw him off of you."

Krek clacked his beak. "I shall try and remember that next time."

"Let's hope there isn't a next time." Valar licked his nose. He tasted blood, and sighed. He'd get himself cleaned up later. "Sit up, if you can."

"I flew all the way here, didn't I? I think I can manage to sit up." Despite his confident words, sitting upright took the gryphon a lot longer than it should have. Pain rolled through Krek's side, and he groaned as he forced himself up onto his haunches. "There...That wasn't...so bad."

"Liar," Valar muttered. "Lift your wing."

Krek eased his silver-edged wing up and way from his wounded side so Valar could get a good look. The wound ran along Krek's side in several long gashes, each exposing bone and the muscles that connected them. The deep cuts had shed plenty of blood and would be painful for a long time. Yet gryphons were creatures built almost as sturdily as dragons. Given time, Krek would heal just fine, Valar hoped.

"I don't see any real lasting damage," Valar turned his head to nuzzle at Krek's cheek. "Going to have some big new scars, though."

"Wonderful," Krek muttered, tilting his head into his friend's affection. "Sooner or later I suppose I'm going to have to stop getting my beautiful pelt scarred by your family."

"You make that sound as though we're constantly scarring you," Valar said, licking Krek's ear.

"Well, let's see." Krek held up a paw, flicking out claws as he counted. "You've given me one, your brother's just given me one...your sister's probably given me one on my haunch. That's three of the four of you."

"I forgot about Kylyra getting her claws in your haunch." Valar scowled, looking down at the gryphon's hind leg. Blood caked his fur there as well, but the wounds were much smaller and far less serious. "Doesn't look too bad."

"No, once your brother cut me open I forgot all about Kylyra's claws. Not that I can blame her for wishing to grab my ass."

Valar chuckled to himself. "Vain bird."

"You'd not wish me any other way," Krek said with a little sigh, smiling to himself.

"No, I wouldn't," Valar said. He picked up one of the pots of salve, and carefully opened it up. The young dragon was thankful they'd given him the sort of pots designed to be utilized by his species. He sniffed at one, memories flooding his mind at the familiar bitter aroma. He'd never forget the scent of the salves Amaleen used to put on his bandages every day. He sniffed the jar again, then scrunched his muzzle and licked his nose. "How does Kathlyn appreciate your vanity?"

"She finds it to be my most endearing trait."

"I rather doubt that."

"Actually she finds my most endearing trait to be my soft fur, and softer heart." Krek gave a little sigh, staring out over the steaming waters.

"I believe one of those things, anyway."

"Honesty."

"Hmm?" Valar tilted his head, peering at the gryphon.

"Honesty. That is one of the things Kathlyn truly likes best about me." Krek turned his head to gaze back at the dragon, concern etched across his face as he pinned his ears back.

Valar reached out and put a paw on Krek's shoulder. "She'll be fine, Krek. We'll figure this out."

Krek sighed, and then a small smile spread over his beak. He was always thankful for Valar's optimism, even when he did not share it. "Thank you, Valar."

"Of course." Valar glanced at the gryphon's wounds. "I haven't got any spirits or anything to clean these with."

"Thank the gods for that."

"So we'll have to wash them the old fashioned way."

Krek cringed a little, clacking his beak. "Oh, very well."

"Why don't you tell me about that honesty you mentioned while I try and get you cleaned up a little? As I find that idea exceedingly hard to believe."

"No one asked for your opinion, Dragon," Krek said, glaring.

Valar rose to his feet. "Into the water, Gryphon. Do you need some help?"

"I'm going to say no, and then I'm going to lean on you anyway."

"Fair enough, Krek." Valar grinned, and moved to stand alongside the gryphon.

Krek slowly pushed himself to his feet with a groan. He wobbled a little, leaning his weight against the larger creature for a few moments. Together, they slowly stepped down into the hot water. For a few moments, the heat felt heavenly around Krek's paws and limbs. But the moment the lowered himself into the depths, heaven turned to hell as that same hot water infiltrated his freshly rent flesh. He tossed his head back, openly crying out, his beak wide.

"Aaaaaaah!" He tossed his head back and forth, wings beating at the surface of the water, splashing Valar. "Gods, it hurts!"

"I know, I know," Valar said, licking at Krek's ears in an attempt to soothe him. "Just bear it for a few moments, and the worst of it will pass."

"Till...you start...cleaning it!"

Valar turned himself a little bit, settling down upon his haunches in the water next to Krek. Once he had a paw freed up, he gently stroked the gryphon's foreleg under the water. He nuzzled at Krek's neck, licking him now and then while the gryphon trembled and bore the worst of the pain. Valar cooed into his ear a little, murmuring softly. When Krek's breathing eased again, Valar smiled at him.

"There. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Krek glared at him through angry, tearful eyes. "I think I should rather have my balls clamped in your paw for an entire day than do that again!"

"We can arrange that, if you like."

"At this point I might welcome another pain to distract me from this one," Krek muttered, snapping his beak. He sighed, and lay his head against Valar's scales. "I am weary, Valar."

"I know," Valar said. "You can sleep when this is all over. I'm going to try and get some of the blood out of your fur."

Krek tensed up when he felt Valar's paw sliding near his wound. Valar began to work the caked blood out of Krek's fur as gently as he could, but it was not a process he could undertake without jarring the wounds. Now and then Krek yelped, or grit his beak and groaned. He kept his head resting against Valar.

After a little while, Krek said, "That is not the sort of weariness I meant, Valar."

Valar lifted a frilled ear, delicately working his fingers through knotted fur. "I thought not, but I did not want to press."

Krek, however, did not seem to mind going on. "I am weary of being away from Kathlyn for half my days. I am weary of wondering if the many difficult decisions I have made in my life have been the right ones. Weary of questioning myself, weary of lying to those who thought I was their friend, weary of spilling trusted secrets...weary of not being at Kathlyn's side."

Valar murmured to Krek. He did not think Krek really wanted a reply, he just wanted someone to listen. That was fine with Valar. He worked his paws further along the gryphon's body. If the sun were up, he was sure the waters all around them would be clearly tinted crimson, but in the darkness the blood seeping from the gryphon was barely distinguishable. The water stung at Valar's own cuts and wounds as well, but compared to what the gryphon was going through, Valar did not even wish to allow himself a whimper.

"If by some miracle, we should all survive this ordeal," Krek said, lifting a paw from the water. He gestured with it, droplets splashed back down and sent tiny ripples in all directions. "I think I should like to give up this spy business. I should prefer to spend the rest of my days at her side. I could be her personal bodyguard and enforcer. Less of an open secret, and more of an acknowledgement that if you anger the Queen of Illandra, her gryphon will eat you."

Valar found himself laughing at that. "Yes, that sounds perfect for you."

"Yes, well..." Krek ruffled his feathers, though seated in the hot spring it did little more than spray a few droplets against Valar and send ripples lapping up against the dragon's scales. "...We've got to survive first."

"We'll survive just fine," Valar assured his friend.

"You will," Krek said, turning his head to gaze up at the dragon. "Kathlyn and I may not be so fortunate."

"Stop being so pessimistic." Valar nipped at Krek's ear.

"It would be a bitter sort of irony, wouldn't it?" Krek pulled his head back from the dragon's teeth. "Kathlyn being slain for trying to set Aran'alia free."

"That's enough," Valar growled. "I don't want to hear you talk about that anymore right now."

"Alright, my dear," Krek murmured. He shifted himself to lean against Valar. The gryphon lay his head down against the dragon's shoulder and closed his eyes. His tufted tail swished beneath the water. "Are you about finished bleeding me out?"

Valar lifted a paw to stroke the gryphon's neck. "Nearly so. I'll bandage you up best I can but you'll need to be stitched up as soon as possible." Valar considered it a moment, licking his nose. "Actually, I know a place we can visit tomorrow to get your wounds properly treated."

"I have to get back to Illandra, Valar," Krek murmured against the dragon's scales.

"Not without having your wounds tended."

"That's why they wounded me," Krek said, idly nibbling at a loose scale on the dragon's neck. He sounded sleepy. Valar hoped it was simple fatigue, and not shock. If it was there was little he could really do aside from keep the gryphon warm and safe while his body recovered. "To slow me down."

"I think Voskyr wounded you because he wanted to capture you and impress Mother."

Krek chuckled a little, ripples rolling from the vibrations of his body. "I suspect when your mother heard we were there, she told your siblings to catch me if I appeared to be trying to flee. Before we talked she could not have known what direction the conversation would take."

"That's true," Valar mused to himself. His spined tail swished under the water, causing the surface to boil and stir. "Perhaps that's all there is to it. Hesitancy on my mother's part to really engage you in front of me, and uncertainty about whether or not to have my siblings go all-out for your capture. I think knocking Kylyra out of the sky like that was the right thing to do. Put enough of a scare into her and mother to keep them both occupied."

"Yes, I'm glad you appreciate my tactics." Krek opened his eyes to peer up at Valar, though he did not lift his feathered head from the gryphon's shoulder. "A shame your brother had to make things difficult."

"Could have been worse," Valar said, stroking the gryphon's wet, feathered head.

"Yes," Krek closed his eyes again, smirking. "I could have used my claws when I kicked him."

"I think I'd have left you there if you did that," Valar said, laughing. "Come on...we should get you out of the water and at least partly dried off."

"You know, Valar," Krek said with a little sigh, nestling against the dragon despite Valar's suggestion. "If circumstances had been different from the beginning, I think I could have been quite happy with you."

Valar smiled, warmth spreading through him. He licked Krek's head a few times. "That's nice to know. Still, I think we both made the right choices. You'd never have known love with Kathlyn if you'd stayed with me. Besides, you still get to spend time with Ayl and I. You know we don't mind letting you watch, you dirty bird."

Krek gave a throaty laugh, one fore paw idly stroking Valar's front leg. "I think the word you're looking for is prefer. You prefer to let me watch. After all, if I were to join in, I'd only embarrass you in front of your mate."

"Yes, yes, we've all heard the tales of your superior mating exploits," Valar chuckled. He licked Krek's head once more, and then slowly pulled himself away from the gryphon. "Come on. Onto the shore. Lean against me if you need to."

Krek grumbled about his comfort being disturbed, but slowly pushed himself back to his feet. Gods, his ribs hurt. He leaned against Valar, limping back up onto the shore where he promptly lowered himself down onto his belly, rolling onto his good side. "There. I shall not move again until morning."

"You shall be quite stiff if that is the case." Valar inspected the bandages he had, and began to cut some to different lengths with his claws.

"I am always quite stiff in the morning," Krek muttered with a bit less smug enthusiasm than usual.

Valar grinned, tail swishing. "Good to see your humor is still intact."

"So is my ego, and my vanity," Krek said, flicking his tail. Water sprayed from his soggy tuft. He lay his head down against his forepaws, watching the dragon through slitted green eyes. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to use some of these bandages like towels so that I can get you dry enough to wrap some of them around you. I don't want you spending the night in soggy bandages, but I need to get some salve on that wound. It will help keep it from bleeding too much more."

"But bleeding makes me look tough," Krek murmured with another flick of his tail.

"It makes you look like you've had your feathery ass kicked."

"Well I have, haven't I."

"Indeed you have," Valar said, settling down upon his haunches next to Krek. "By the runt of my family."

"That's comforting," Krek said, grumbling.

Grinning, Valar leaned forward and braced himself against one forepaw. With the other, he began to work a strip of thick, gauzy bandage against the gryphon's feathers and fur. It was not as effective as a true towel, but it would serve the purpose well enough. He worked it against the gryphon's foreleg and shoulder until it was soaked, then discarded it. He picked up another strip of bandage and began to work that against Krek's body as well. He wouldn't be able to dry the gryphon completely but he'd get enough of the water out of his pelt to be able to wrap some bandages around him without thoroughly soaking them.

Krek tensed and hissed in pain as Valar began to dry the area around his wound. Valar grimaced. He tried to work that area as tenderly as he could, but he knew it was going to bring Krek more pain no matter how gentle he was. More blood was already seeping out, but at least the worst of the bleeding seemed to have eased. Valar inspected the wounds now and then, tilting his head back and forth. Then he went back to drying the gryphon off, using a good portion of the bandages he'd brought in the process. At least he'd be able to get more the next day when he took Krek to see a more professional healer.

"Alright," Valar said, patting the gryphon's head with a paw. "Sit up."

"I thought I told you I wasn't going to move until tomorrow."

"Once I get the bandages on you, you can lay there for the rest of the night." Valar dipped a few digits into one of the pots of salve. He smeared the bitter, slightly acrid smelling stuff onto the middle of a long section of bandage, glancing at the gryphon. "Now sit up, Krek. Please."

Krek gave a weary sigh. "Damn dragons. Always think they can boss us gryphons around. At least you didn't threaten to punch me in the balls this time."

"Would that make it easier?" Valar smirked at him. "Sit up or I'll punch you in the balls."

Krek squawked. "Not funny, dragon! You know, as long as I don't sit up, you can't actually do that."

Valar's smirk only grew. He reached down with a forepaw, grasped the gryphon's ankle, and began to hoist up his hind limb. "You were saying?"

"Alright, alright." Krek snapped his beak. "I've an injured haunch, you know."

"It's got a few claw marks in it, anyway. Now sit up already you damn lazy bird."

When Valar released Krek's hind leg, the gryphon slowly eased up onto his haunches. The movement sent a pounding throb into his ribs that echoed the beating of his heart. Krek groaned, his face twisting in pain. Valar licked one of his ears, nuzzling him. Then the dragon began to gently wrap the bandages around the gryphon's body, across his wings as well. Krek gave him an irritable look.

"You're bandaging over the top of my wings."

Valar glanced at him. "I know. Your wound is right under them. I don't know any other way to keep the bandages in place than to wrap them all around your midsection."

Krek fought the urge to shift and rustle his wings. "How the hell am I supposed to fly in the morning?"

"We'll walk," Valar snapped, getting a little irritable. "It isn't that far, really. A few hours walk, perhaps. There's a small village I know. I'll have them stitch you up and then we'll fly. Just don't pull the stitches out."

"You are the worst doctor I've ever met," Krek muttered, but offered no further complaints. "This village had better have some good herbs to help with the pain, then. Or I shall pass out halfway through the flight back to your home."

"I'm going to need herbs myself to deal with all your damn complaining." Valar snorted, flaring his spines a little as he wrapped another layer of bandage around Krek.

"You're wrapping that too tightly," Krek said, clacking his beak. He gave irritated chirp. "You're going to give me a wing cramp."

"Spirits, but I thought your warbling was annoying enough by itself!" Valar snapped his jaws. "I don't recall you being this obnoxious the last time you were badly injured."

"That's because I thought I was dying." Krek nudged his beak against his friend's scales. "I'd lost a lot more blood that time."

"Yes," Valar said, his voice softening. "I remember."

"I hope you don't still feel guilty about that," Krek said, tilting his head a little. He slowly lifted his silver crown feathers. "It was my fault you had to do that in the first place after all."

"Yes, it was," Valar agreed, pulling his head back to inspect the bandages a moment. "But I still didn't mean it to happen."

"I know," Krek said. "Are you almost done?"

"I think so, yes." Valar carefully cut the end of the bandage off with his claws, and tucked it into place beneath what he'd already wrapped around the gryphon. "That should hold for now, anyway. Lay down slowly."

"I think slowly is the only way I'm going to be doing anything for a while." With a sigh, Krek eased himself down onto his belly, stretching his front paws out before himself. He curled his tail a little, and eased over onto his uninjured side. "There. _Now_I'm not moving till morning."

Valar chuckled. "Good, good."

"You should do something about your own wounds." Krek peered up at Valar from where he lay with his head tilted to the side and resting on his forelegs.

"Do they look bad?" Valar glanced back at the gryphon as he put the stopper back on the pot of salve and placed it back into the basket.

"Hideous." Krek weakly laughed. "As if your deformities were not great enough already."

"Deformities?" Valar couldn't help but laugh. "Such as?"

"Oh...uneven nostrils, blunt snout...crossed eyes," Krek lifted a paw to wave it at the dragon. "Stubby paws, crooked legs. And just look at your feet. A different shade of blue on each one."

"Yes, I'm horrific, aren't I." Valar grinned, moving to settle in alongside the gryphon. He lay down next to Krek, and slowly opened his wing to lay it across the gryphon's back to help keep him warm through the night.

"Atrocious. I don't know how your mate can even be seen with you in public."

"I wonder the same myself," Valar said, laying his head down against the mossy ground. "I must have done some great good deed in my past to have earned myself such a wonderful female companion, and such a beautiful daughter."

"I think we both know that's your reward for living your life the right way," Krek said, his voice drifting into a sigh. "For making the right choices. Doing what the rest of us should have done. For trying to leave the world's war and hatred behind and just...living your life. Helping people without...having to bloody your claws."

"A lot of good it's doing me now," Valar gave a little sigh, then licked at Krek's neck. "But enough of that. Go to sleep, Krek."

Krek snorted. "What am I, your child?"

"You may as well be right now for all the care I'm giving you."

Krek tried to shrug his wings, but found the bandages too restricting. "You probably would have made me a better father than my real one, anyway."

"That's a terrible thing to say," Valar said, nudging Krek with his nose. "I thought I told you to go to sleep."

"I'd wager you'd have made yourself a better father than your real one, as well," Krek said, closing his eyes. "You wouldn't have left, would you."

Valar sighed, staring off across the water. His tail curled, flicked and twitched in thought. His heart fluttered for a moment, then sank into his suddenly unsteady belly. "...I don't know."

"Hrrm?" Krek opened his eyes up to green slits. "Not really the answer I expected."

"I don't know what I would have done in my father's place." Valar unsheathed his claws and slowly drug them back through the moss, tearing ruts into the earth beneath. "I can rant and rave and complain all I like. I can curse his name and lament his abandonment, but...In the end, I don't really know what I'd do. If I lost Aylyryn the way he lost Amaleen...who's to say what I might do? I can swear to the skies that I would never leave Ayly behind, that I'd never leave her to a life without her father, and yet..." He turned his head, staring at Krek. "...Am I not risking that by pledging you my protection against my mother? Does that...not make me run the risk of repeating my father's actions? Everything I've tried to avoid, Krek, everything I've built the walls in my life to protect my family from. It's all finding its way back to me, anyway. I try and cover my ears, Krek, and yet I hear the echoes of my father's life getting louder all the time."

"...When the time comes," Krek said, his voice a whisper laden with conviction. "You should stay home with your family. With your daughter."

"I can't let her kill you, Krek," Valar said. The dragon stared across the darkened spring as if his father sat across it, watching him. "I cannot. And the fact that I know that is what my father would have said in my stead terrifies me."

Krek nuzzled Valar's neck a moment, purring softly into his scales. "It's alright, Valar."

"I don't think it is," Valar said softly. He lay his head down against Krek's paws, closing his eyes.

Krek soon lay his head down next to Valar's, feathers brushing scales. He smiled to himself a moment. "Enough sorrow. Tell me a story, Valar."

"A story?"

"Yes. So long as you're acting like my father, tell me a bedtime story."

Valar found himself laughing a little at that idea. A pleasant enough way to distract them from their troubles. "I don't know that many stories."

"Liar. Just any story. Something made up or something from your past, I don't care."

Valar rumbled in thought, spines lifting. "I could tell you about a village and a dragon. Or perhaps about a human woman."

"Mm. Human woman, hmm? What was her name?"

"Melira. I met her before you, though not by a great span of time."

"Oh? And how did you meet this...Melira?"

Valar grinned, closing his eyes to let the memories play over his mind. "She was trying to kill me."

---

Chapter Ten

---

Valyrym sprawled atop his favorite burgundy rug. Despite the upcoming extended absence of his favorite Warden, the dragon was in a good mood. Even for Valyrym, it was hard to be grumpy with all the food and drink about to be shared with the motley group that had become his unexpected family deep in his dungeon. Though Alia had been quite busy the last week getting everything prepared for her suspension, she'd spent as much time as she could with Valyrym. The old dragon certainly appreciated her attention, just as he appreciated her frequent reminders that three months really wasn't that long a time. Given that he'd had a week for it to settle in, Valyrym decided to enjoy this little party as much as possible. Then he'd have another night with Alia followed by three months in which to attempt to drive Kaylen and Thomas mad.

"What are you grinning at?" Thomas asked when he spotted the old dragon smirking down at him.

"Your impending insanity." Valyrym ruffled the carpet beneath a paw. "I give you one month taking care of me before you crack."

"I should hope I last longer than that, or I'll never hear the end of it from Alia and Kaylen."

"You say that as though they don't already tease you incessantly."

"No sense giving them anything else to pick on me for," Thomas chuckled, leaning against one of the recently delivered barrels. He turned and prodded at the top a little bit.

"Stay out of that," Valyrym hissed. "You don't get to have any of that till I do."

"I thought Alia got first taste of everything?" Thomas grinned at the dragon, tugging at one of his gray sleeves. "This is her party, isn't it?"

"It is my party, just as everything in this dungeon is mine."

"Not Vatch!" The Urd'thin protested from nearby where he was busy poking around the newly arrived barrels as well.

"Especially Vatch," Valyrym insisted, craning his long neck to peer back along himself and see what the Urd'thin was doing. "And if Thomas doesn't get an early taste of any of that, you certainly don't either."

Vatch simply grinned at the dragon. He perked his oversized ears, and wagged his bushy, chocolate furred tail a little. "We drink all of this?"

"Gods, I hope not," Thomas scoffed, running a hand back over his hair. "We'd never see the morning."

"Yes," Valyrym murmured with a grin that bared a few fangs. "I fear even a dragon could not drink that much alcohol. Though I aim to try. Some of those are silver water, as well."

"Is not all rum?" Vatch licked his muzzle. He'd quite come to enjoy rum since getting this job.

"No, is not all rum," Valyrym rumbled, lifting his frilled ears. "There's whiskey as well, and ale, and mead. Some other wine too, I think."

"Basically, Alia plans to kill us," Thomas explained, grinning.

"If must die, is good way die," Vatch replied, sniffing at one of the barrels. "This one smell sweet. Is mead, I think."

"Get your nose out of my mead," Valyrym hissed, rising to his paws to turn towards the Urd'thin beyond the ledge.

"Nose not in mead," Vatch assured the dragon, then grinned right back at him. "But when barrel open, Vatch be sure put nose in right away."

"You do, and I'll tip you into that barrel and put the top back on." Valyrym snapped his jaws. "Then I shall have Alia and Thomas carry it back up the stairs, and roll it all the way down."

Vatch's dark eyes slowly went wide, his furry ears twisting to the sides of his head behind his little horns. "Ooooh..." Then an enthusiastic grin spread over his muzzle. "That sound like fun! It be like ride at fair!"

"Aside from the whole drowning in mead part," Thomas said, ruffling the fur between Vatch's ears. "Don't worry, Vatch, we'll make sure you get as drunk as the rest of us."

Valyrym turned his golden gaze towards Thomas. "I am still not convinced you actually have the ability to get drunk in the first place."

Thomas simply shrugged. "And I'm still not convinced Kaylen has the ability to drink rum without coughing it up and spilling it all over herself. I suppose we'll find out if both those things can happen tonight, won't we."

Valyrym laughed, his wings shaking. "Yes, hopefully she does a better job with her drink than the first time we shared rum together." The dragon tilted his head, licking his nose. "How are things coming anyway? My hunger is growing."

"My hunger is growing?" Thomas blinked, and then burst out laughing.

Valyrym's frills settled against his head. "What is so funny about that?"

"It sounds like something the villain in some grand adventure tale would say." Thomas swept his arm out in front of himself as though indicating an army of minions. "My hunger is growing! Go, my minions, conquer this realm!"

Valyrym licked his muzzle again. "I should settle for having my minions conquer me something to eat." He lifted his spines, glancing between Thomas and Vatch. "You two are my minions, by the way."

Vatch cocked his head, perking one ear. "I thought dragon was minion for Alia?"

"Yes, I rather like the sound of that," Thomas said, chuckling. "If Alia was a wicked Queen, Valyrym would make a wonderful minion for her."

Valyrym simply snorted, tossing his horned head. He settled onto his haunches, curling his tail around his paws. "She could not afford to hire me as her minion."

"I rather thought she'd just force you into being her minion," Thomas explained. He lifted his foot, waggling his newly purchased brown leather shoe. "You know, with her boot."

Valyrym lowered his eye ridges, glaring at Thomas. "You'd better watch what you threaten, considering I can actually do that back to you. Unlike Alia."

Thomas held up his hands as if in surrender. "No threat! Just an observation."

Valyrym growled, looking the man over. Thomas was dressed in a long-sleeved shirt the color of slate. Blue threading ran along the sleeves, and circled the cuffs. A weave of faintly diamond shaped patterns in silver crossed the chest of it. He also wore black trousers which looked a bit looser and less formal than the sort of thing Valyrym was used to seeing Thomas in. Still, by the standards of his other human friends, the man still looked as though he'd dressed himself up to discuss important contracts rather than eat and drink with a dragon.

"Don't you ever dress in anything that doesn't look as though you're expecting to have your performance reviewed?"

Thomas huffed a little, adjusting the collar of his tunic. "There's nothing wrong with dressing well."

"You may feel differently when you ruin that shirt by drunkenly spilling food and wine all over it."

Thomas folded his arms, grinning. "I'm more worried about what Kaylen's going to spill."

"Another reason to wear something less drab and official looking."

"So you think I should wear more colorful clothing to accommodate for stains?" Thomas quirked a brow, smirking at the dragon.

"Makes sense to me."

"I shall take that under advisement, then."

"Besides," Valyrym said, lifting his head a little till his neck curled into an S. "I am used to wardens in colorful clothing. You should put on a green shirt to make me feel more comfortable. Or perhaps a blue dress."

Vatch burst out giggling. "Oh yes! Thomas must wear dress now."

Thomas scowled, trying to swat at Vatch who simply danced away. "Oh no! Thomas is most certainly not wearing a dress. Not now, and not ever."

"What's that about Thomas wearing a dress?" Kaylen called out as she strode across the chamber. "Is that what's going to happen when he gets drunk?"

"No," Thomas scowled, lamenting Kaylen's perfect timing as always. "It is not. Aren't you supposed to be cooking?"

"I have been! I've come to get you to help me bring it down." Kaylen wore a heavy black apron over the top of her lilac and gold dress. Spatters of grease and sauce marked it here and there from whatever it was she'd been cooking all afternoon. She walked up to Thomas, and pinched his arm, giggling at his yelp. "Since you and little Vatchy pup here are just lazing around with some old dragon, anyway."

Valyrym snorted. "I'm not some old dragon! I am the old dragon."

Kaylen giggled, strode to the ledge, and reached up to pet Valyrym's nose when he lowered his head. "Hello, The Old Dragon."

"Hello, Chef Kaylen." Valyrym nuzzled her hand a moment, then sniffed at her apron. "You smell delicious."

Kaylen burst out laughing. "I could take that so many ways. But good! Hopefully that's a sign you'll enjoy what I'm making for you."

"The sooner it gets here, the sooner I shall enjoy it."

Kaylen lifted her other hand to stroke the dragon's muzzle. "I just need these two and a few extra servants to help Alia and I carry it all down."

Valyrym pulled his head back with a derisive snort. "So all I'm waiting for is these two lazy buffoons to go assist you?" Valyrym waved his paw at Thomas and Vatch. "Go on then, buffoons! Be gone!"

Thomas and Vatch gave each other a look as if deciding to ignore the dragon in tandem. However, their strategy was quickly thwarted when Kaylen stomped her foot and pointed towards the stairwell. "Go! Don't make me grab you by your ears and drag you." She smirked at them, and made a fist in the air. "Or shall I grab something even more sensitive?"

"Yes," Valyrym murmured. "That one. That shall teach them to obstruct a dragon's feast."

"Vatch going, Vatch going," the Urd'thin muttered. He stuck his tongue out at Kaylen, and when she made a move to grab him by an ear, he dashed off towards the stairs, laughing.

"Excitable little runt," Valyrym said with a snort, then flexed a wing out to brush it against Thomas. "Now go. And don't return without food, and Alia."

"Yes, my mighty master," Thomas said, giving the dragon an exaggerated bow.

"Mighty Master," Valyrym mused to himself. "I like that. You may use that during your brief and likely futile stay as my warden."

"Careful, Dragon," Thomas said as he walked off. "Or I'll give Kaylen permission to purchase a set of paddles."

"You wouldn't dare," the dragon growled, tucking his tail a little.

"Already got my eye on a set," Kaylen called back, laughing. "We'll be back with dinner!"

Valyrym grinned to himself as the group left his dungeon. When they were gone, he peered around the place. The silence settled in heavily upon the old dragon. It seemed emptier than usual lately when he was the only one there. All those years alone and he'd grown accustomed to the solitude, even relished it in a lonely sort of way. Yet it took only a few months of love and friendship with a small group of people to undo all that. Much as it had only taken Alia a short time to break down the walls he'd spent so many years studiously building brick by golden brick.

Alia. He was going to miss her more than he could put into words. Yet, over the last week the old dragon had done what he could to convince himself it would not be so bad. Alia was right about the fact that three months was not such a long time for a dragon to endure. She was also right about the fact it would be made all the easier because for the first time since he'd left Sigil Stones, Valyrym had friends to rely upon. Kaylen and Thomas and Vatch and even Enric would help him get through this without Alia.

"Bah," the dragon muttered under his breath. "Bunch of idiots."

While Valyrym waited for everyone to return, he busied himself by setting up the other invited guests to the party. He gave Val Junior the place of honor atop the newest barrel of rum to arrive in his home, and then positioned the rest of his little stuffed family around the area. The old dragon put Cuddly Korvarak behind a few barrels, just peeking out as though waiting for his opportunity to be hurled at the first person to insult Valyrym. Val set Little Ky up atop the highest ledge he could reach. Velvet Vos was placed a little ways away, atop another barrel where it looked as though he was staring down at Cuddly Korvarak.

He held up the doll that represented his sister a moment, grinning at it. "Hello, Sister. Still haven't come up with an appropriate name for you, yet. Naughty Nary? Stuffed Nary Ah! Better yet." Smirking to himself, he set the black and gold stuffed dragon down where it appeared as though she were strutting around in front of Korvarak. "Get Stuffed Nary."

Valyrym laughed at his own joke for a little while until he realized he was actually setting up the toys as though they were real friends invited to the little get-together. Then he growled at himself, pinning his ears back. "Gods, Valyrym. You're losing your mind by the day." He hoisted his fore paw, ready to send the nearest stuffed toy flying. Then he relented, sighing as he set his paw back down. "I'll let you stay this time."

Soon the old black dragon heard the clatter of an entire army of servants descending the stairs. So much for enlisting Kaylen's friends to do all the work. They all wore the same foolish black and white striped outfits he'd been teasing Kaylen about before Alia gave her this job. Considering the fact that they were all bringing him food, the dragon decided against teasing or frightening them.

Instead, he decided to make himself unusually pleasant to the humans he did not know. "Well, hello!" Valyrym greeted them as they cautiously approached. He settled himself down upon his haunches, curling his tail. Then he swept in a paw through the air in a grand arc. "Welcome to my humble home, do please make yourselves comfortable." The dragon licked his muzzle hungrily, grinning at them. "And by making yourselves comfortable, I mean put down my food so I can fill my belly."

The assorted Aran'alian servants quickly set down all their platters, as did Thomas, Kaylen, and Vatch. Soon the floor was covered in trays of food.

Kaylen shook a finger at the dragon. "No eating before the rest of us."

Valyrym growled at her. Kaylen ignored him and passed out coins to each of the servants, thanking them for their help. Valyrym growled a little louder, then huffed when she continued to ignore him. "Do not ignore the growling dragon."

"If I stopped what I was doing every time the dragon growled, I'd never get anything accomplished." Kaylen giggled, patted Valyrym's nose, and then waved towards the stairs as the servants departed and Alia entered. "And here comes your lovely bride!"

"Bride?" Valyrym pulled his head back. He made an odd noise, hissing and laughing at the same time. "She is my mate, but she is not my bride."

"Isn't it the same thing?" Kaylen tilted her head.

"The concept is similar, I suppose." He flicked his tail. "But I like our word better. You make it sound as though we have gone through some sort of, odd little ceremony where people throw flowers at us, and now live in a little cottage that she cleans all day while I'm off working at the mill."

"What are you babbling about?" Thomas folded his arms, glaring at the dragon. "Have you been in the rum already?"

Before Valyrym could decide whether to ignore Thomas or simply bite him, Kaylen burst into giggles, running over to the assorted barrels when she spotted the stuffed toys. She picked up Val Junior and hugged him to her breast, spinning around. Her skirts swished around her legs before she came to a stop, holding the little toy out to Thomas. "Look, Thomas! Val's invited everyone else!"

"Aww, isn't that sweet," Thomas said, his voice sugar coated and dripping with honey. "I knew the old beast had a soft spot for all his little friends."

"I most certainly do not," Valyrym hissed, uncurling his tail to lash it at Thomas' feet. "I simply thought Alia would tease me about leaving them uninvited."

"So you'd rather I tease you about fetching them all to join us for our dinner?" Alia asked as she reached the dragon.

"I'd rather you shut up," Valyrym snorted, then grinned at Alia. "Hello, my love."

"Hello, you dirty old lizard," Alia giggled. "Look what I've brought you."

Alia held up the largest chocolate cake Valyrym had ever seen. It was easily twice the size of the cakes Alia usually brought him, and looked absolutely slathered in the darkest, richest chocolate icing he could imagine. He sniffed at it, black nostrils flaring. The delightful aroma made his belly rumble nearly loud enough to rattle the scales of his stomach.

"Oh, Alia, that looks heavenly." He lifted a paw, intent on sticking a claw in the icing.

"Oh no," Alia said, stepping out of range. "No cake until after the meal."

"Oh, very well." Valyrym smirked at Alia as she sent to set the cake with everything else. "Half expected to see you in a formal dress for this little occasion."

Alia laughed a bit, shaking her head. Rather than something formal she'd worn a light cream colored blouse with blue blossoms sewn across it in several places. It was loosely fitting, flowing and bouncing around her form with her movements. The golden dyed breeches that she wore were similarly loose and flowing. Though when Alia bent down to put the cake's tray upon the floor, Valyrym couldn't help but notice the vaguely heart-shaped outline of her rump pressed against them. Given the way she shook it at him, she knew he was looking.

"Given how I'm probably going to end up drunk by the end of the night, I thought it best I wear something casual, and more importantly, inexpensive." Grinning, Alia walked back to the dragon and stroked his jaw line. "Since I'm likely to spill food all over it. Besides, this is hardly a formal occasion. It's just a casual party. I wanted to wear something light and comfortable."

Valyrym rumbled a soft purr, leaning into her touch. "And here I thought you'd just decided to wear something we could get off of you in a hurry."

Alia only laughed again. She kissed his nose. "We'll see, Dragon. Now, who's hungry?"

"I'm damn well hungry!" Valyrym announced, pulling his head back from Alia's touch. "And you all know it." Mock pain slipped into his voice as though he thought they were all conspiring to keep him from his dinner. Soon though, a smile replaced the frown he could not keep up, and he turned his golden gaze onto Kaylen. "So, Chef Kaylen. Why don't you tell me what delicious things you've brought me, hmm?"

Kaylen giggled in glee as she set Val Junior back down atop the barrel. Then she rubbed her hands together. "Oh, I'd love to." Kaylen walked around the dragon to the area where they'd put all the food. "I wanted to cook enough to make sure all of us could get stuffed."

"You want to get stuffed, do you?" Thomas couldn't help but smirk at Kaylen. "I hadn't realized it was that sort of party."

Kaylen merely smirked at Thomas. "Be a good boy, and perhaps it will be."

Thomas' face reddened a little, and he flicked some dark hair out of his eyes. Nonetheless, the young man smiled at Kaylen a little more. Then he glanced away, and Valyrym clattered his tail spines against the floor to draw everyone's attention.

"The food, if you please." Valyrym snapped his jaws, flaring up his spines a little. "You can discuss your odds of mating later, as I imagine they shall increase significantly once you're drunk."

"Indeed," Kaylen said, bouncing in place a little. "So yes. The food!" Kaylen began to walk along the line of trays set up, gesturing at and explaining each one. "So for starters, we have one of Valyrym's favorites. Smoked fish!" Kaylen crouched down, and picked up one of the long, thick fish tinted a golden-bronze color by smoke. She picked up a knife from the tray as well, and quickly scaled the fish. "I actually started smoking this late last night, with help from the Chef, as I'm hardly an expert on the process. But I wanted to make sure to include it in Val's meal."

When the fish was scaled, Kaylen handed it to the dragon. He sniffed it, murmured happily at the smoky aroma, and then popped the whole thing into his muzzle. He groaned in delight as he chewed it up, the flavors were heavy with smoke and a delicate, slightly herbal spice. After he swallowed it, the dragon sighed in satisfaction. "Oh, you've done a wonderful job there, Kaylen."

"Thank you!" Kaylen beamed. She glanced around at everyone else. "Go ahead and take some if you want to get started. I thought it would make a good first course."

"Good idea," Alia said, snatching a scaly fish from Vatch's grasp just before he bit into it. The little Urd'thin gave a disappointed sounding coo, his big ears drooping. Alia laughed at him. "No, you silly thing. You take the scales off first. Like this." Alia deftly scaled the fish the way Kaylen taught her, and then handed it back to Vatch. "Now you eat it."

Vatch happily took the fish back, and then took a big bite out of it, bones and all. He chewed the fish up, his oversized ears soon perking right back up. "Oh! Yes! Is very good. Is much better with no scales."

Alia shook her head as she quickly scaled a few more fish, handing one to everyone else before tasting it herself. "This is really delicious, Kaylen," Alia said, licking her lips. "Maybe even better than the fish the chef usually smokes."

"Thank you!" Kaylen said, beaming. "I am rather proud of how well it came out, actually."

"As you should be," Valyrym said. Then he reached out with a paw and took a big slab of juicy, fragment smelling meat. The outer edges of the slice were crusted with hints of herbs and lightly blackened skin. He sniffed it, popped it into his mouth, and then did his best not to moan too loudly in delight. "Oh, this is good. Is this lamb?"

"It is," Kaylen said, grinning. "Roasted a whole lamb on a spit. I thought about bringing the whole carcass down, but decided since we're all sharing it would be easier to carve everything into slices and chunks just before serving it."

While everyone else worked on their smoked fish and Valyrym helped himself to more of the lamb, Kaylen walked them through everything else she'd cooked. The rest of the meats included slow smoked beef ribs, fire roasted rack of elk, and wild boar cooked in a sauce made from apples and berries. There was also a tray piled with duck, some of which was roasted and the rest of which was fried.

"Because, as Valyrym points out," Kaylen said to Alia, giggling at what had become an inside joke. "He prefers duck."

"I do appreciate it when people remember what I like," the dragon said, grinning.

"And for those of us who don't subsist entirely on meat, I've brought plenty of other dishes to go with it all." Kaylen held up her hand to the dragon as soon as Valyrym opened his muzzle. "Before you make your usual smartass remark, yes. I have in fact brought you an entire bucket of Gravy, all for yourself."

"Oh, thank the gods," Valyrym said, purring at the thought.

Kaylen laughed, fetching the greatly oversized bowl of gravy. She set it before the dragon, and patted his neck. "Enjoy."

Kaylen had brought plenty of gravy for everyone else, too. She'd intended it to go with some of the meats, as well as the assortment of roasted potatoes, turnips, and carrots she'd cooked. She also had baked apples, a dish of pan fried spinach and garlic, several loafs of crusty bread and rolls, a platter of cheeses and cold sausages, sliced and salted tomatoes and even more.

By the time Kaylen had finished her explanation of all the myriad things she'd cooked, Valyrym was quite impressed. Kaylen was an even better chef than he'd realized. He wondered why she hadn't ever gotten a job working as some fine restaurant's head chef, though the answer was as clear as her hair was black. He snorted to himself, tossing his head and flaring his spines.

"Would you like to be a chef, Kaylen?" Valyrym cocked his head. "I mean, professionally. As your real job."

"I'm quite happy working with you all, actually," Kaylen said, laughing. "But if it had been a possibility, yes, I think I'd have loved that. Though a few years ago I wouldn't have been near good enough, I don't think. I learned a lot from my mother growing up, but since I've been a servant here the Chef has been very kind and very eager to teach me anything he can."

Valyrym licked some gravy from his fingers after dipping a hunk of meat into his bucket. "Should Alia and I actually get out of this rotten little hole together, I think we shall have to find you a place where they'll hire you as a chef. Put your greatness on display."

Kaylen laughed even harder, popping a roasted potato into her mouth. After she swallowed it she grinned at the dragon. "I'm not sure I have any greatness to display in the first place, but that does sound nice."

"It's settled then," Valyrym said, then rose to his paws and padded to the assorted barrels. "Now. Let's drink. I want rum. I also want ale. And wine. Make it happen, Alia."

Alia followed the dragon over. She gave her other friends a slightly nervous glance. "This might have been a bad idea."

"Yes, yes," Valyrym said, waving his paw at her. "Getting dragons drunk is a terrible idea, but I promise to try and avoid falling on anyone."

Alia soon had the barrels open and the taps flowing. She passed out cups and mugs to all her friends so that they could simply take what they wanted. For Valyrym, she filled his usual drinking bowl with his favorite rum, then filled up a few more bowls with everything else he wanted to try. By the time the dragon returned to the spread of food, he had six different drinking vessels around him. Valyrym lapped at each of them in turn.

"This was definitely a bad idea," Alia said, laughing.

"No, this was perhaps the best idea you've ever had," Valyrym purred to himself as he began to take big pawfuls of food from every tray available.

"Try not to spill it all on the floor, hmm?" Alia grinned, settling down next to the dragon. She took a thick slice of lamb, dunked it in her own little bowl of gravy, and bit into it. Gravy dribbled down her chin while she chewed, and Valyrym made a point to lick it off her face. She scowled, shoving his muzzle away.

"And what do you care if I spill it on the floor? Not like you'll be the one stuck cleaning it up anymore." The dragon turned his triangular head a little to smirk at Thomas.

"That's a good point," Alia said, reaching for a bread roll.

"I don't know why you're both looking at me," Thomas said, passing the tray of duck to Vatch. The Urd'thin accepted it with both hands, set it in front of himself, and began to shovel food from it into his snout with both hands. "After all, Vatch will be in charge of cleaning up the dragon's mess while Alia is gone."

"Why Vatch must do this?" The Urd'thin protested, his eyes widening and ears perked. A bit of half chewed duck fell from his muzzle to the floor, another handful frozen in his grasp.

"Because you're already dropping food all over the floor," Kaylen giggled. She picked up a bread roll and playfully threw it at the Urd'thin. It bounced off his chocolate brown furred muzzle, and startled Vatch so badly he yelped and threw his hands up, bits of roasted duck flying in directions. Kaylen burst out laughing as dark poultry bounced off the floor and rolled away. "Oh, nicely done Vatch."

"Nicely done yourself, Kaylen," Thomas said, glaring at her. "You're the one who made him throw it all over the place."

Kaylen stuck her tongue out at Thomas.

Vatch glared at her a moment. "You make Vatch throw food! Now Vatch throw food at you!" Vatch picked up one of the bits of duck that had landed nearby, and hurled it at Kaylen. It bounced off her cheek, making her yelp in surprise and leaving a sticky smear across her olive toned skin. "Ooh, Vatch get bullseye!"

"Oh!" Kaylen would have stomped her foot if she hadn't been seated on the floor. "You little sneak!" She quickly looked around for something appropriate to retaliate with.

"Oh no," Alia said, laughing. She moved to grasp Kaylen's wrist, grinning at her. "As fun as a food fight would be, after all the work you put into cooking this, there's no way I can let you waste it by throwing it all over the place." When Kaylen relaxed, Alia settled against Valyrym again, smiling. "Perhaps when we're all a little more drunk."

"Speaking of which," Valyrym said, licking his nose. "What are you drinking at the moment, Alia?"

"The ale right now," Alia said, holding up her cup. The dark reddish brown liquid within sloshed in her mug. "It's a little stronger than I expected, but it's really very good."

"Ah, yes," murmured the dragon. He dropped his muzzle down to his own drinking bowl filled with the dark ale, sniffed at it, and then lapped at the bowl until it was dry. At which point the dragon picked up the bowl in his teeth and dropped it in Alia's lap. "More."

Alia raised a brow, staring at the dragon. She picked up the bowl, and promptly whacked Valyrym on the nose with it. The dragon yelped and recoiled from her. Alia grinned and got to her feet, then went to the wooden, iron-banded cask filled with ale. She topped off the dragon's drinking bowl and brought it back to him, setting it down before the beast.

"Next time ask nicely, and you won't get smacked on the nose."

Valyrym glared at her, baring a few fangs. "Yes, Mistress! Shall I..."

Alia prodded the dragon's scaly haunch with a dull butter knife. "You remember what happened the last time you offered to present your haunches for a paddling, don't you?"

Valyrym slowly narrowed his golden eyes, flaring his spines. "...Nothing."

"Oh?" Thomas grinned, leaning forward over his tray of food. "Sounds like there's a story there."

"There is," Kaylen said, giggling. "We called his bluff. And then we paddled his scaly ass with a wooden tray."

Valyrym muttered, spines sinking back against his wedge-shaped head in embarrassment.

"What was that, Dragon?" Alia looked around for an empty tray. Finding it a futile search, she transferred the remaining bread rolls onto another dish. She picked up the tray and smacked it against her palm for emphasis. "Are you challenging my authority again?"

"I said it was hardly a paddling," Valyrym growled, clattering his curved black tail spines against the stone floor. "More of a friendly swat."

"How about I give you a not-so-friendly swat right now?" Alia asked, grinning mischievously at the dragon.

"Get him in the balls!" Kaylen said, giggling.

Valyrym snapped his head around to glare at her, hissing through bared fangs. "You are not helping."

"I dunno, Valyrym, that's not the worst idea Kaylen's ever had," Alia said, her grin getting wider. She swatted the tray against her palm again, eyes trailing down the dragon's belly.

"You shall do no such thing," the dragon insisted, though it was quickly becoming as much playful plea as gruff protest. He reached down with a paw to protectively cup his ebony eggs.

"Don't play with yourself, Dragon," Thomas said, laughing. "I'm trying to eat a meal here."

"You should be on my side!" Valyrym huffed, swiveling his frilled ears and scrunching his gray-marked nose a little. "You're about to be my warden. That means you're supposed to be protecting me."

"He's right, Alia," Thomas said, waving a piece of smoked beef in Alia's direction. Droplets of juice splattered the trays of food between them. Valyrym grinned when Thomas defended him. Though the old dragon's grin faded when Thomas continued. "If you hit him in the balls here he's going to thrash around all over the place and crush all the food."

"Hey," the dragon snapped, glaring at Thomas once more. "That is hardly a suitable defense."

"It's the only one I'm prepared to offer, so I suggest you accept it," Thomas said, popping the beef into his mouth.

Kaylen dredged a slice of boar in the apple and berry sauce, then thoughtfully chewed upon it. "I suppose we could drag the dragon off somewhere else, and then hit him in the balls." She gestured with a piece of meat towards the rusted chains in the distance. Bits of sauce flew through the air. "Those don't seem to be doing anything these days. Perhaps we could chain him up in there and have a little fun with him."

Valyrym cocked his head, then arched his long neck to glare down his muzzle at Kaylen. "Don't you have rum to choke on?"

Thomas burst out laughing, grinning at Kaylen. "I think she's sticking to mead today. Easier on her delicate sensibilities."

Kaylen finished off her boar, glaring at her friend. "You're one to talk, Thomas. A few hours ago you were asking me which outfit I thought best said casual party with friends."

"I see that discussion was a spectacular failure," Valyrym said, reaching out with a forepaw to pick up an entire tray. He lowered his muzzle and snatched big hunks of meat right off the tray with his teeth. "Considering the man still managed to look as though he'd dressed for a funeral."

"I like to look good," Thomas said, half in explanation and half in protest. "I don't have much in the way of frilly, fanciful clothing."

"You've that blue thing you wore the other night," Kaylen said, smiling at Thomas. "You know, when you were in my quarters..."

"Alright, alright," Thomas said, trying to cut Kaylen off. "Besides, that was a night shirt. I can't wear that to a party. I may as well show up naked."

"Now that would be fun," Kaylen giggled at him, pinching his arm.

"In your bed chamber, was he?" Valyrym asked with a smirk, simply because Thomas had clearly been trying to avoid the subject.

"None of your business, Dragon," Thomas snapped, but mirth flickered in his eyes nonetheless.

"Yes, he was," Kaylen said as offhandedly as she could. "But nothing much really happened."

"Nothing much happened?" Alia giggled, glancing at Thomas who did his best to ignore everyone. He picked up a tray of food and made a show of inspecting what was left, trying to hide the increasingly reddish tint of his cheeks. "Well, that's the way I remember my nights with Thomas too. He'd show up, we'd chat..." Alia smirked at him. "We'd crawl into bed, nothing much would happen...at least not for me, and then Thomas was sound asleep."

"Yes," Kaylen said solemnly, nodding her head. She finished her mead, and rose up to get herself another mug full. When she returned, she gestured at Thomas with it, a little of the sweet, golden liquid swishing out to splatter upon the floor. "That's just how it happened. I did slip my hand down his trousers while we were chatting, and then nothing much happened in a hurry, and he fell fast asleep. Typical Thomas."

"I refuse to play this game." Thomas set the tray of meat down, and rose up to go fill his own drinking vessel. "Need a stronger drink."

Kaylen shot Alia a sneaky grin while Thomas was occupied, whispering. "Let's throw him in the tub!"

Giggles bubbled through Alia at that idea. "It's empty, though."

"So fill it up."

Alia shook her head, black hair swishing around her. "He'll get suspicious." Alia nudged Valyrym with her elbow. "Val. Get your tub filled up so we can throw Thomas in it."

Valyrym looked back and forth at the two woman a moment. He glared at them, but soon the dragon was sharing in their mischievous spirit. "Yes, alright. That sounds amusing."

Valyrym pushed himself up to his feet. He paused, feeling just a tiny bit wobbly for a moment. Already he could feel his muzzle, ears and crests getting quite a bit hotter than usual. "I think I'm getting a little drunk already."

"I should hope so, after all the rum and ale you've been downing." Kaylen took a long pull from her own mead. "You're outpacing me about four to one, and I'm certainly feeling a little flushed. Looks like your cresty things are getting all red."

Valyrym chuckled at the term cresty things, then cleared his throat with a growl. "Alia. I should like a hot bath. Fill up my tub." He turned his head to look down at Alia. When she just shrugged, he prodded her with his paw, snorting.

"Oh, right," she whispered. Then she lifted her voice. "Fill up your own tub, you crusty old newt!"

"Crusty old newt?" Valyrym pulled his head back, glaring at her. If she kept that up Thomas wouldn't be the only one getting tossed into a tub. "Oh, very well."

Valyrym padded off towards the tub, swinging his tail perilously close to Alia. She yelped and ducked, and the dragon laughed as he padded over to the large wooden tub. In retaliation she threw an empty mug at him. Given that she'd been drinking as much as anyone else, the cup sailed harmlessly over the dragon's head, and clanged off the far wall.

"Did you just call him a rusty gold boot?" Thomas asked, scrunching his nose. What an odd thing to call a dragon.

Kaylen, Alia and Vatch all burst out laughing at Thomas' jumbled interpretation of the playful insult. "Yes, Thomas," Alia said, giggling. "That's just what I called him." She lifted her voice, calling out to the dragon. "Hey, Valyrym!"

"What?" The dragon called back as he began to work the stoves. There were just enough coals left in the feeder oven from his bath earlier in the day to get a new fire started.

"You're a rusty gold boot!"

Valyrym looked back along himself when everyone began to laugh even harder. The old dragon cocked his horned head in confusion. "I have no idea what that even means."

"It doesn't mean anything," Alia said, taking another gulp of ale. A bit of foam clung to her lips. "You just are it."

"You're drunk," the dragon snorted.

"You know," Alia replied, peering into her ale as though the gently swirling beige foam was gradually revealing the mysteries of life itself to her. "...I think you may be right."

"Well that's the idea, isn't it?" Kaylen giggled, her words holding just a hint of a slur. "Even little Vatchy pup is going to get drunk..."

"Vatchy not Vatchy!"

Kaylen blinked at the Urd'thin. "What?"

Vatch blinked back at her, pinning his ears back. "What?"

"What?"

"What means you what?"

"I'm confused," Kaylen said, much to Thomas' amusement.

"It's not that difficult to follow, Kaylen," Thomas said. "Vatch here, is trying to tell you his name is Vatch. Not Vatchy. And then you asked him what, and...well, I'm not really sure what happened after that."

"Vatchy is so named Vatchy," Kaylen said, giggling to herself. "And he's the most adorable, fluffiest little pup a Vatchy could ever be...and further more, Vatchy Pup is - AAAAAH!"

It was at that point that Vatch had enough, and promptly tackled Kaylen to the ground, startling her into screaming. Normally such an act would be difficult for the Urd'thin, but Kaylen was seated and Vatch took her totally by surprise. So when he threw himself into her he easily knocked her over, and found himself seated upon her belly. Baring his teeth in a victorious smile, Vatch thrust his fists into the air, settling against Kaylen.

"Vatch win! Vatch beat crazy lady!"

Kaylen's cheeks reddened as the Urd'thin celebrated his victory, but soon she was laughing along with everyone else. She folded her arms over her breasts, and tried her best to glare at the Urd'thin. "Oh, very funny. So you've bested me once, hmm? Well, that still leaves the score Vatch one, and Kaylen four thousand, three hundred forty two. By actual count."

"Vatch victory worth ten thousand, cause Vatch is best!"

Kaylen continued to try and look stern, and her giggles continued to ruin her efforts. "Vatch better watch it, or Vatch get kick when he get up. Right here!" Kaylen poked the Urd'thin with a finger, though not quite in the right place.

"That Vatch belly."

"I meant here," Kaylen huffed, poking him lower.

Vatch gave a little yip, laughing. "That Vatch sheath! You drunk."

"Perhaps a little," Kaylen said, grinning at him. She pressed her finger against the Urd'thin's sheath through his breeches, feeling the shape of it a moment. "Sheath, hmm?"

Vatch shivered, his ears hanging down at the sides of his head in pleased relaxation. "Y-yes...sheath."

Kaylen trailed her finger down over Vatch's sheath till she found the base of it. Then she swirled her finger against the Urd'thins breeches till she felt the forms of his testicles. She rolled her finger around each one, making Vatch shiver. Then she flicked one of them and made him yelp and jump. Laughing, she gave the Urd'thin a shove while he was distracted and quickly rolled over to sit atop him, instead.

"Hah! Now Kaylen wins." She leaned down, grinning into his muzzle.

"No fair," Vatch squeaked. "Kaylen is cheater! And heavy. Quit squish Vatch!"

Kaylen only laughed at him, shifting herself to grind her rump against the Urd'thin's groin a little. She could feel him swelling beneath his trousers. "You'd better not be callin' me fat, Vatch."

"She's such a tease when she gets drunk," Thomas said to Alia, just loud enough for Kaylen to hear.

"Oh!" Kaylen jumped to her feet, and stomped over to poke Thomas in the chest a few times. "I'll show you a tease."

Thomas only grinned at her, idly tugging at a thread upon his sleeve. "I think that proves my point, Kaylen."

Kaylen considered that, then glanced back at Vatch who was sitting up. "Then perhaps I'll just have some fun with little Vatchy instead of you, tonight."

"I think Vatch might be a little too terrified of you for anything like that to happen," Thomas said, grinning at Vatch. "Then again, if he's drunk enough, perhaps he'll forget his fear."

Kaylen huffed, glaring at Thomas. "Valyrym," she called out, still watching Thomas. "How's your bath coming along?"

"Give it a few minutes," the old dragon murmured, peering into the tub.

"Are you really about to take a bath now?" Thomas asked, turning towards the dragon. "I'm only half drunk, so...the party must not be over."

"I had no intention of ending this little party," Valyrym said, padding back over to where he'd left all his alcohol. He lowered his head, and began to lap at each bowl in turn, glancing up now and then. "I simply planned on relaxing in my tub, drinking my booze, and insulting the lot of you. I had also planned to convince Alia to join me."

"And what about the rest of us?" Kaylen asked, spinning towards the dragon. "Maybe we want to party in your hot tub, too."

Valyrym blinked at her, pulling his head back. Had she already forgotten the real reason he was filling up the tub? He glanced at Alia, lifting his ears in a questioning gesture. Alia simply shrugged. Valyrym gave a little sigh. "I shall consider it."

"Vatch want party in tub!" Vatch jumped to his feet, grinning. Then he let his tongue hang from his muzzle in Valyrym's general direction. A gesture he'd long since picked up from the humans. "If old dragon promise not stare at naked Vatch too much."

"Old dragon thinks Vatch spends entirely too much time contemplating having other males see him naked." Valyrym lashed his spined tail behind himself a few times. "Old dragon also thinks Vatch is forgetting why the tub is being filled."

Vatch blinked. He tilted his head, perked one ear and pinned the other back near his little horns. "Why is tub be filled?" Then he gave a little gasp, a grin spreading over his canine-like snout. "Oh, yes! To throw in who-know-you."

"That's you-know-who, Vatch," Thomas said, then smirked at the women. "And I'm not daft. Nor am I deaf." Thomas laughed to himself, sipping his whiskey. "I heard you two harpies chattering about tossing me in that tub the whole time. You're both too drunk to whisper anywhere near as quietly as you think."

Kaylen gasped in drunk, horrified shock. He knew! He knew their terrible evil plan. Oh, and didn't he just look smug about it. She glared at Thomas while he smirked at her a moment. Well, time for Plan B, then. She downed the rest of her mead in a few gulps and dropped her cup. It clattered and rolled across the floor. Then she thrust a finger at Thomas as though accusing him of some terrible crime.

"Grab him!"

Thomas' eyes widened and he took a step back away from Kaylen. Alia moved up behind him, snatching his arms and pulling them behind his back. Thomas started laughing and tried to twist away, but Kaylen quickly moved to grasp his feet as well. The two woman hoisted him up together, and began to carry him towards the tub with quick, stumbling steps.

"Let me go," Thomas said, laughing as much as he was genuinely protesting. "Val said there's not even enough water in there!"

"There should be by now," The dragon murmured, padding after them with a grin plastered on his gray-tinged muzzle.

"At least take off my shoes," Thomas pleaded, trying to wriggle free.

"And give you a chance to escape?" Kaylen scoffed. "I think not! You know, Thomas, you're not really all that heavy. And you called me the delicate one!"

The woman soon reached the edge of the tub with a wriggling Thomas still in their grasp. They peered over the edge, saw that the tub was nearly full, and grinned at each other. Alia tried to swing Thomas one way, and Kaylen tried to swing him the other, and the young man gave a pained yelp.

"Ow! You're going to twist me in half!"

"Kaylen," Alia said through her laughter. "Swing him towards Val, first. Toss him on three!"

Kaylen nodded, and together the two woman swung Thomas back and forth a few times. Each time they swung him a little harder and Thomas gave an increasingly loud cry of alarm. At this point, he was just hoping they didn't accidentally let him go too early and drop him on the floor. Or land him with his back against the tub wall. Wouldn't that be an ignominious way to end up injured.

When the woman reached three, they hurled Thomas over the edge of the tub. He gave a clipped cry for a moment before he splashed into the water, sending hot spray in all directions. The hot water splattered Alia and Kaylen but they were too busy laughing to mind at all. Thomas sank beneath the surface, and soon came up sputtering. His black hair was plastered to his head and all his clothes were slicked down against his body. He ran a hand over his face, trying to clear the water from his eyes, coughing a little.

"You horrible wenches," he called out, blinking a few times, unable to see. "As soon as I can see what I'm doing, I'm going to climb out of here and toss you both in!"

"You'd have to catch us first," Alia said, laughing.

"No, I don't think he will," Valyrym said, his fangs bared in a wicked grin, golden eyes gleaming.

Before Alia could reason out what the dragon meant, he'd already grasped her in his front paws. Plopping himself back against his haunches, he promptly hoisted his Warden up and tossed her in the tub as well. No sooner had her shrill scream been covered up by the loud splash she made when she impacted the water than Valyrym was grabbing Kaylen next. She shrieked and beat her fists at the dragon's paws. It was no use as the dragon hurled the plumper of the two woman into the tub just as swiftly as the first. Before the two woman had even recovered, Valyrym turned his head to show Vatch his teeth. He snapped his jaws at the Urd'thin.

"You can climb in, or I can throw you in."

---

Chapter Eleven

---

Vatch just grinned at the dragon's challenge. The Urd'thin took a running start, and leapt over the wall of the tub. He gave a squeal of glee as he flew through the air, splashing down near Thomas. His landing threw up a wall of water that rolled over everyone else in the tub, and left Valyrym the only one still dry. Valyrym was also the only one still laughing at the whole ordeal.

"Oh, now that was fun!" Valyrym lashed his tail, grinning. "That little plot blew right up in your faces, didn't it. Val Junior and I had that planned all along." He flexed a gray edged, lightly tattered wing and pointed with the talon at its tip towards the stuffed dragon atop the nearby barrel. "And just look at that smugness on his face."

"Yes, he's a smug little stuffed beastie, isn't he," Thomas said, still wiping water from his eyes. "He also says, now that you've got us all in here, you may as well go and get our drinks."

Valyrym glared at Thomas a moment. Thomas waded up to the edge of the tub, holding his hand out as if expecting the dragon to put his mug in it. Valyrym lifted a paw and promptly shoved Thomas by his head right back into the water. The man yelped before he was submerged. Valyrym chuckled to himself, but then padded off to get their drinks. He set four mugs atop one of the trays, and then carefully picked the tray up in his jaws, carrying it back to the tub. Alia came to the edge and took the tray from him with a smile.

"That was pretty impressive, actually," Alia said. Kaylen took her mug and so did Vatch, and Thomas eventually did the same. Then Alia took her cup, and set the tray on the wall of the tub. "Didn't know you could balance things that well when you carried them in your snout."

"It's not that difficult. Carried glass bottles of rum and things around inside crates before. And used to carry things for Amaleen." Valyrym soon fetched a few of his own drinking vessels, setting them outside the wall of the tub. He lapped at a few of them, then lifted his head and nudged Alia with his nose. "Now move aside."

"What for?" Alia smirked at him, rubbing his muzzle.

"So I can get in."

"Get in somewhere else. Why do I have to move aside for your fat scaly ass?"

"Because I enjoy being difficult, obviously," the dragon said as though he thought the answer should be quite clear.

"And I enjoy squeezing the testicles of dragons," Alia muttered in playful threat as she moved out of Valyrym's way. "Alright then, try not to crush anyone when you get in here."

"Now, now," Valyrym said, grinning at Alia as he carefully stepped his front paws over the wall of the tub. "You're going to scare Val Junior talking like that. Besides, I believe the words you're looking for are playing with, not squeezing."

"Are you sure you're going to fit in here with the four of us?" Thomas moved to the very far end of the tub. He leaned over the wall to set his drink down near where the hot water pipes were. After he straightened he folded his arms. "I don't think I'd like to be accidentally crushed to death against the wall of a tub by some grumpy old dragon."

Valyrym glanced at Thomas as he stepped a hind paw over the tub wall. "You should have thought of that before you all decided to invade my bathtub."

"They're the ones who tossed me in here," Thomas said, unfolding his arms again to wave at Alia and Kaylen. "And you tossed them in here."

"Yes," Valyrym said, grinning as he stood in the water. "I did, didn't I."

"So you know what I think," Thomas said, glancing at the others. "We should all get the dragon."

"I'll get his balls!" Kaylen announced, setting her own drink down with a giggle. Then she sloshed through the water towards the dragon's hind end.

"Oh no you won't," Valyrym snarled. He promptly grasped her head and dunked her under the water, then gave her a shove away from him.

Kaylen soon came back up coughing and sputtering, wiping her face. "Oooh! Now you're really going to get it!"

"That's not what I meant," Thomas said through his laughter. "Besides, if anyone was going to get the dragon that way, we'd send Vatch."

Vatch blinked from nearby. Short as he was, only his head and shoulders were currently above the waterline. "Why you try get Vatch in trouble with dragon?"

"Because, you're the smallest," Thomas explained, laughing. "You could sneak right under Valyrym and...you know..."

"And then I'd flop on my belly and crush the little runt," Valyrym said, glaring at Vatch to make sure the Urd'thin didn't try anything.

"Vatch not much like this idea..." He licked his wet nose. "Besides, Dragon is friend. Vatch not hit friend in balls! That what crazy lady do."

Thomas burst out laughing, drink and mirth reddening his cheeks. "Yes, that is what crazy lady do."

Valyrym shifted a little in the tub, waves of hot water rolling and lapping up against everyone. He reached out to try and grasp Alia, but she ducked under his foreleg and reemerged near Thomas. In reaction, the dragon surged forward, and reared up a little to grasp them both and dunk them under the water. After he let them go, he started laughing as they soon popped up nearby.

"Cut that out," Alia said, swatting at his nose.

"But it's so fun!"

"Which leads me back to my idea..." Thomas blinked heavily, trying to clear his eyes. He pointed at the dragon. "We all gang up on him..." Then he glanced at Kaylen. "Not to hit him anywhere tender, but rather just to...I don't know, dunk him for a change. Instead of the other way around."

"Hah!" The dragon snorted, and tossed his head. "You idiots can't dunk a dragon."

"Everybody get the dragon!" Alia announced, then began to charge towards him. However, thanks to the water her charge was significantly slower and less impressive than she'd intended.

Valyrym simply tilted his head down at her, grinning. "Yes, that is a mighty impressive wading technique you have. Why, I'm sure you'll reach me in the next half hour or so. I'll be sure to ready myself by then."

While the dragon was distracted with Alia, Kaylen got behind him and began to scrabble up his tail. Valyrym yelped when he felt her clinging to him, looking over himself at her. "Hey! What do you think you're doing?" The dragon flung his tail about behind himself, spraying water over the wall of the tub, but Kaylen stubbornly clung to him. Alia then jumped up and got hold of one of his horns, yanking his head down. "Ah! Let go!"

Alia did no such thing. Instead she hung onto the dragon's horn and lifted up her feet, pulling his head down towards the water while Kaylen scaled his back. Soon, the dragon was shaking his head to try and free himself from Alia while Kaylen crawled up between his wings, towards his neck. Thomas soon joined Alia in pulling Valyrym's head down, while Vatch followed in Kaylen's trail and clambered up the dragon's tail.

"Ah! Damn you all and your teamwork, you-blurrblearrrppggbgl!" Valyrym's words twisted into incomprehensible bubbling as the group effort finally submerged most of his head under the water. He shook his head a little more, then tried to push the two humans gripping his horns away from his head. "Arrrppplearruggebllurrg!"

Atop his back, at the base of his neck, Kaylen threw her arms up in victory. "We did it!"

Alia burst out laughing, and soon Thomas had joined in. "Well, Thomas and I did it, anyway. You and Vatch just decided to ride him."

"Ride him? Yes, that's a good idea!" Kaylen kicked her heels against the dragon's scales. "Onward, dragon!"

Valyrym jerked his head up when Thomas and Alia slackened the grip on his horns. Water poured down his neck and dripped from the pebbly, gray-tinged scales of his chin. He made a show of coughing, glaring down at them. "Are you trying to drown me? I should spank Alia silly for that!"

"Spank me?" Alia explained, then she glared at the suddenly flustered Thomas as though he was the one who'd made the suggestion. "What about Thomas?"

"Thomas would enjoy it too much," Valyrym muttered. "Besides, I think Kaylen would enjoy spanking Thomas more than I would."

"In his dreams," Kaylen giggled from the dragon's back. "And I thought I told you, onward!"

Valyrym twisted his head around. "Where am I to go, exactly?"

Kaylen wiggled a finger in a circular motion. "A circuit of the tub, of course!"

"Oh, very well," Valyrym muttered. Then he moved forward and began to slosh his way slowly around the tub. There wasn't really a whole lot of room for him to maneuver, and he made sure to bump up against Alia and Thomas as often as possible. He opened his wing, knocked Thomas into the water, and then butted his shoulder against Alia, sending her sprawling out into the tub as well. "Whoops. Do mind the dragon, won't you?"

"Oh, I definitely mind the dragon," Alia said, shaking her head. Wet black hair swished back and forth in the air, spraying droplets around her. Then with a grin, she suddenly turned on Thomas, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him right back under the water no sooner than he'd popped back up. "Got you!"

Thomas yelped and burbled as he went under. Alia backed away from him, laughing. She turned to watch the dragon splash his way around the tub, and as soon as Thomas came back up for air, he launched himself onto Alia's back, baring her right back down into the water in return. Alia yelped and flailed under him before he let her up, backing away and laughing. "Turnabout, and all that, Alia!"

"Turnabout?" Alia yelled at him. "I just pushed you under! You jumped on my back!"

"I think he wants to mount you," Valyrym said in a playful, hissing whisper. Then he slapped his paw against the surface, sending a curtain of spray over both Alia and Thomas. "Why don't you drop your breeches and the rest of us can watch?"

Alia turned her green glare towards the dragon, shielding her face from the spray with her hand. "I'm not sure which of you would like that more. The dragon, the Urd'thin, or the fancy boy."

"I'm not a fancy boy," Thomas protested, smirking. "Though I would enjoy seeing you drop your breeches."

Kaylen giggled from the dragon's back. "It's not like you've never seen that, Thomas. Or done that with her."

"You shut up," Alia said, jabbing a finger at Kaylen.

"Or what, Alia?"

"Or I'll climb that dragon's tail and hurl you right off his back!"

Kaylen folded her arms under her breasts, her wet lilac and gold dress clinging to her curves. "You'd have to get past my Urd'thin body guard, first."

Vatch sat up straight behind Kaylen, grinning down at Alia. "I tough!"

Alia smirked at the two of them. "I think I can take him." Then she began to laugh, walking around to Valyrym's tail. Valyrym began to walk away from her, trying to keep his tail out of reach. Alia sloshed ahead and grasped one of his tail spines. "Maybe I'll pull Vatch's breeches down and spank him, instead."

"No spank Vatch!" Vatch made a growling noise, baring his little fangs.

"You know," Kaylen said, giggling and wrapping an arm around Vatch. "Out of all of us, I think Vatch here is the only one who hasn't seen Alia naked."

Everyone started to laugh. All save Vatch. Alia shook her head, still clutching Valyrym's tail spine. "Don't say that. It makes me sound like a whore."

"Well..." Thomas said, smirking and waving a hand in the air. "For a while..."

"Oh, that's it Thomas!" Alia whirled around on him, grinning wickedly. "Now your pants are coming down!"

"What?" Thomas scrambled backwards towards the tub wall. "Oh, no. No one wants to see that..."

Kaylen called out from atop the dragon. "I do!"

"Then help me get his pants," Alia replied, laughing.

Kaylen carefully slid down the dragon's back, leaving Vatch the only one still riding Valyrym. As Kaylen and Alia tried to corner Thomas, Vatch moved up to settle against the base of the dragon's neck. Vatch patted Valyrym's scales. "Now Vatch in charge of dragon!"

Valyrym turned his head to glare at Vatch through one golden eye. "What's that now?"

"...Vatch..." The Urd'thin gave Valyrym a big dopey grin. "...In mutual alliance with dragon?"

"Yes, that is acceptable." Valyrym chuckled, watching the girls futilely chase Thomas around the tub. Whenever they seemed to get close to him, he managed to duck their grasp and slip away amidst a flurry of laughter and splashing. "Well, Vatch, what should our alliance do?"

"Get drinks."

"Yes, I second this motion." Valyrym waded to the side of the tub where his drinks lay. He stretched his neck and lapped at the one filled with red wine, savoring the warm, slightly fruity taste. Then he delicately grasped another drinking vessel in his teeth and stretched his neck to offer the cup to his rider. Vatch took the mug and gulped it down, before tossing the empty container away.

Valyrym glared at the smaller creature. "Just throw my belongings around, why don't you."

"You not use," Vatch muttered, swaying a little on the dragon's back.

"Don't expect me to get you another one, you drunken little varmint."

"Vatch not varmint," the Urd'thin snapped, swatting at the dragon's neck. "Remember. Vatch in charge now. Vatch Warden."

"Vatch seems to have a selective memory," the dragon snorted, grinning at the smallest of his friends. "Very well, Warden, any more orders for me before I dump you back into the tub with the rest of these miscreants?"

Vatch pinned his oversized ears back, his muzzle twisting a little. He turned his attention to the miscreants in question, watching Alia and Kaylen playfully chase Thomas around the tub. They couldn't quite corner him enough to get hold of him for more than a moment or two. Any time they came close, he managed to dunk one of them and slip away, or splash water in their faces to distract them.

"Warden Vatch order you help girls!"

"Ah, eager to see Thomas naked, are you?" Valyrym curled his tail under the water, lifting his spines a little. "I thought as much."

"No," Vatch said with a little chittering sound. "Vatch eager be on girls' good side."

"Ah," Vaylrym replied, dipping his wedge shaped head. "A wise endeavor. But you see, Thomas is to be my warden after tomorrow."

"So...you not want make him mad."

"No." Valyrym smirked at the Urd'thin. "Which just means I have to act relatively nonchalant about it."

Valyrym watched Thomas slosh about the tub for a few moments. Once he had a good idea of where the human man was going next, Valyrym moved forward, talking loudly as though replying to some order Vatch had given him. "Very well Vatch, I shall stretch myself out."

Valyrym lowered himself down into the hot water, waves washing up across the surface and crashing over the walls of the tub to cascade across the increasingly wet floor. Just as Thomas was about to dart away from the women once more, suddenly there was a big black dragon sprawling across the enter of the tub, taking up most of the room. Valyrym lay his head against the wall at one end, and let his tail drape across the far end of the tub wall. Water washed up against the Urd'thin's legs as he sat upon the lounging dragon's back. Thomas found the way blocked. He bumped up against the black scaled creature, thumping a fist into Valyrym's haunch.

"Your fat ass is in the way, dragon!"

Valyrym lifted his head from the wall to glance back at Thomas. "Not my fault Alia didn't build a big enough tub."

Before Thomas could argue further, Alia seized his arms. He struggled and laughed as he tugged at her grasp. Alia pushed Thomas up against the dragon as though Valyrym was just a conveniently located wall. Kaylen tried to get hold of his breeches as Thomas squirmed.

"Let me go," Thomas insisted, wriggling against the dragon.

"Oh no," Kaylen said, finally getting her fingers in Thomas' breeches. With a wicked grin, she deftly undid the buttons and began to tug them down over his hips. Kaylen then crouched down in the water and yanked them the rest of the way down. Much to Thomas' amused embarrassment his privates were now fully exposed. When Thomas tried to wriggle again, Alia tugged him back and forth to lift his feet from the bottom of the tub. Kaylen tugged his pants over his shoes, then hurled the wet garment out of the tub. "There! Now I'll let you go."

"You two are horrible," Thomas said, laughing. At least the water was deep enough to cover his privates, though the clarity still allowed the girls a decent peek.

Valyrym lifted his head from the tub wall and craned his neck around to gaze down at Thomas. He laughed to himself. "Not bad. For a human. But your bits still look hilarious."

"They do not," Thomas huffed, pulling his arms away from Alia when she finally let him go.

"It certainly does. It just..." Valyrym held a paw limply in the air. "Hangs there. It doesn't even have a sheath."

"Yes, thank you, Dragon," Thomas said, cheeks increasingly red rather than olive toned. "I am familiar with my own anatomy. Don't know what's so great about that sheath you're so proud of, anyway."

"It doesn't dangle and flop about for one thing."

"Ours don't flop about either," Thomas insisted.

"It certainly does flop about," Kaylen giggled. She slipped a hand under the water to prod Thomas.

"Hey!" Thomas said, trying to squirm away from her again, swatting at her hand.

"Does it not chafe?" Valyrym asked, tilting his head. A few fangs were bared as he smirked.

"Only when he plays with it too much," Alia replied before Thomas had a chance.

"Oh, hah hah, Miss Fully Clothed," Thomas grumbled. He crouched down into the water, slipping his hands down to his feet.

Alia looked down at herself. Her cream colored blouse was slicked down against her body. The curves of her breasts were practically outlined against the blue blossoms sewn in it. Her formerly loose golden breeches were just as tight to her skin now, but thanks to the water covering the lower half of her body it was far less obvious. She ran her hands over her belly a moment, giggling. "Not that it makes much of a different now. What are you doing Thomas?"

"Removing my shoes," the man muttered. He soon stood back up, and tossed his shoes out of the tub. "My clothes should survive the soaking but I'm not so sure about my footwear."

"That's a shame," Alia snickered. "Kaylen and I will have the same problem you know."

"Yes, but I was actually wearing a nice pair of shoes, and you were just wearing - AAH!"

Thomas yelped when Kaylen snatched his testicles under the water, grinning at him. "You were saying, Thomas?"

"I was saying..." Thomas grit his teeth, half glaring at Kaylen and half grinning at her. "Your shoes are lovely, and I'm ever so sorry if they're ruined."

"That's what I thought," Kaylen said, giggling. Then she perked an brow. "Are you starting to inflate, Thomas?"

"Not sure I've heard it called that," Thomas muttered, then smirked at her, glad her touch was gentle despite the implied threat. "But perhaps a little."

"Just what I need," Valyrym snorted, tossing his head. Droplets of water flew about. "A horny human in my tub."

"You wouldn't say that if it were Alia," Thomas said.

"If it were Alia in the mood I would kick the rest of you out of here," the dragon said, chuckling to himself.

"Or you'd ask us to watch," Kaylen smirked, releasing Thomas from her grasp. Then she leaned in and kissed his cheek, fingers dancing beneath the water.

"I am not here to put on a show for you like some circus animal!" Valyrym rose up to his feet again, pulled his tail from the wall and slapped it against the water hard enough to thoroughly splash everyone. "Despite whatever twisted ideas may be floating about in the dirty seas of your minds."

Alia laughed and moved to stand alongside the dragon, stroking his neck. "I thought you liked being watched."

"By you, perhaps," the dragon murmured, lowering his head to nuzzle at his lover's face and neck. "Perhaps even by Kaylen. But certainly not by Thomas."

"What about Vatch?" Vatch asked, grinning on the dragon's back.

Valyrym glanced back at him a moment, and then promptly sat down upon his haunches. The sudden shift left Vatch tumbling down the dragon's back and into the water. Vatch vanished beneath the surface, and soon popped back up coughing and sputtering. He wiped water from his eyes, blinking heavily. His ears pinned back, the fur on his face now waterlogged.

"Hey!" Vatch said between coughs. "I thought we friends!"

"We are," the dragon assured the Urd'thin, then chuckled. "But being friends doesn't mean you get a free pass to watch Alia and I share pleasure. And to think, you're the one always teasing me about peeking at you in the bath."

"Not want look at dragon," Vatch said, sticking his tongue out at Alia. "Want look at Alia!"

"Oh?" Alia giggled at Vatch. She flashed Valyrym a smirk, and then flashed Vatch something else, deftly lifting up her water soaked blouse to show the Urd'thin her bare breasts. Water clung to them. The supple lightly olive toned mounds were practically reflected in the Urd'thins eyes for long moments before Alia burst out laughing and pulled her blouse back down. Wet as it was, it hid little more than the most intimate details. "Happy?"

"Oh yes," Vatch murmured, a lewd grin spread over his tapered muzzle.

"Tease," Valyrym snorted, shaking his head.

Still smirking, Alia slipped her hand beneath the dragon's belly and grasped his thick ebony sheath. Valyrym hissed in surprise, and Alia slid her hand towards the end of it, circling a finger around the point of smooth flesh she was not surprised to find exposed. Valyrym shivered, and as she felt the dragon starting to grow further, she pulled her hand back and laughed.

"_Now_I'm a tease," Alia said, grinning at the dragon.

Valyrym growled, curling his tail. "You certainly are. I hope you plan to do something about the situation you're beginning to cause me."

Alia merely shrugged, backing away towards the tub wall. "Perhaps. I could use another drink. Maybe if we put a bit more drink into Kaylen, she'll deal with Thomas' and Vatch's...situations...as well. Maybe you'll get to be the one to watch for once."

Kaylen gave an indignant scoffing noise, a cross between a cough and a growl. She put her hands on her hips and glared at Alia, but did not offer any further defense of herself.

"Oh, come now, Kaylen. I know you'd like to give little Vatch bit of a fun. And Thomas would like to give you a bit of a ride, in turn." Alia reached out, tantalizingly stroking her fingers across both Thomas and Kaylen's cheeks. "It's a win, win, win situation."

Kaylen only laughed, grinning at Thomas and then at Vatch. "Perhaps after another drink."

"Not in front of everyone," Thomas snorted, turning away.

"Oh, live a little Thomas," Alia said, swatting his bare rump under the water.

"You all get a lot more fun when you're drinking," Valyrym murmured, then ran his paw over Alia's back, gently stroking her. He squeezed her rump a moment, and she wriggled against his grasp. "But if I'm not going to be pleasured right this moment, I think I should like to eat that giant cake Alia brought me. Alia will join me, of course, and you three hangers-on can stay here and play with yourselves."

Valyrym began to climb out of the tub. He coiled his spined tail around Alia's middle, grinning back at her for a moment. She stroked the wet scales of his tail, smiling at him. He gently pulled her forward as he climbed over the tub wall, and kept the grip of his tail slack enough to allow her to climb out. Then he padded back towards the remaining spread of food, paw pads slapping against the wet floor.

"Come along, Alia," The dragon said, idly twisting his tail around her belly as he walked. "It is time for cake and more drink. After that, perhaps we shall see about what to do for...dessert."

---

Chapter Twelve

---

Lord Armadine of the Twenty Fourth Province lounged upon the luxuriant gold-cushioned sofa in Prince Elvir's private parlor. Armadine always liked the prince's parlor. It was quiet, very comfortable and filled with trophies of the sort Armadine could appreciate. Treasures from the prince's conquests in battles and duels, for one. More to Armadine's liking were the skins, hides, horns and claws of the various creatures and monsters the prince had hunted and slain over the years. It reminded Armadine of the furs and hides that Kathlyn adorned her offices with in honor of her son, though without the displeasure of the old bitch herself.

Armadine ran his fingers back and forth over the silken, golden cushion that ran up the back of the couch he sat upon. If only the prince wasn't moping about his mother. It almost made Armadine feel guilty knowing what fate was to befall the arrogant queen. Almost. Still, Armadine knew that Elvir would soon have the throne to console himself with. What better consolation was there for grief than power? Well, perhaps revenge.

"What are you smirking about?" Elvir asked from behind his expansive apple wood desk.

"That desk I got you," Armadine said.

It wasn't true at first but as Armadine considered the desk, his smirk grew. It was a beautiful thing, a gift from Armadine himself. The wood had a lovely polished ochre tone, with a grain of darker striations that looked almost marbled. Took an awfully big apple tree to make such a marvelous wraparound desk. Armadine found it a far better use for the tree than sitting in the middle of some city in Aran'alia. Besides, the natives spent far too much time praising and rallying around the damn thing. Amazing it had survived the razing of their city. Well, it hadn't survived Armadine. Now all that was left of it sat in the parlor of his best friend.

Elvir ran his hand back and forth against the polished surface, smiling. "You'd think by now you'd be tired of bringing it up."

"The years that pass beyond the giving of a gift do not diminish its importance, nor the pride I feel at putting it in your parlor."

"True enough," Elvir said, leaning back into his own elegant chair. Mahogany arms were carved into the heads of fantastical beasts resembling a cross between a dragon and a lion. Dark red cushions embroidered with images of the same beasts in gold ran up the back of the chair, and covered the seat. "I'm still amazed you managed to get the whole thing in here, let alone across the country."

"Oh, it was nothing," Armadine said, flicking his fingers in the air. "I had the desk planned out before I had the damn tree chopped down. Then I had the wood prepared and shipped and I had the desk put together inside your room. I wanted it carved from a single piece, but the trunk wasn't quite large enough, and the desk never would have fit through the door anyway."

"Well, it came out wonderfully." Elvir grinned at his friend, folding his arms over his blue and silver vest. Only one of the four ivory buttons held the vest together across his pale gray shirt. "I'd thank you once again but I fear your ego could not stand any more inflation."

"Ego?" Armadine acted wounded, shaking his head, his expression falling. "I've no ego." He slowly looked up at his friend again, waving a hand at the scattered assortment of objects atop the desk. "You know, you could better show it off if you removed those trinkets. Starting to look like your mother's desk."

Elvir leaned forward, a scowl darkening his expression. "They aren't trinkets. And at least my desk doesn't have scenes from some fool child's storybook scrawled across it."

Armadine rested one black-booted foot across his knee, careful not to smudge any dirt over the elegant golden patterns sewn into his dark green trousers. "Your mother always did have a soft spot for flights of fancy, and childhood things. To say nothing of beasts better left forgotten, or ground under boot. Or at best put into harness and made to serve man like the oxen they are."

Elvir's scowl grew, his bright blue eyes flashing with momentary anger. "I don't like it when you speak of my mother that way."

"I was speaking of her friends. That idiot bird, and that monster in the dungeon."

Elvir's anger ebbed just a little. "I hardly think the monster in the dungeon is my mother's friend."

"No?" Armadine quirked a brow. "Quite a spirited defense she raised for him, and she spent an awful lot of time down there when she went to visit the beast. She does seem to have a soft spot for..."

"She defended him because you abused him needlessly," Elvir said sharply, cutting Armadine off. "Which she and I are in agreement about. You had no right to do that."

"The beast has to learn his place," Armadine said, a growl creeping into his voice. His posture remained casual even as his tone grew more aggressive. "He is property. Property of the Twenty Fourth Province, and he cannot just chase..."

"Property of whom?" Elvir hissed through grit teeth, drumming his fingers against the desk.

"Oh, my apologies, Your Majesty," Armadine said, leaning forward in a mock bow. "Property of Illandra, of course. But...he did come from the Twenty Fourth Province."

"So did this desk," Elvir said, tapping it with a single finger. "Are you saying it also belongs to you?"

"Certainly not," Armadine said, shaking his head. "It belongs to you because I gave it to you as a gift. But the dragons should belong to us. They come from our land, they harass our people and our soldiers, threaten our wealth."

"Then perhaps your should catch yourself your own dragon, if you're so keen on owning one." Elvir chuckled to himself. He reached out and picked up a small dragon figurine that adorned his desk. It was a whitish color, carved from the bones of some fallen beast. Supposedly the bones belonged to a dragon, though as it had been given to Elvir as a gift in a foreign land he had no way to judge the veracity of that claim. "The point is, Armadine, you had no right to torture the beast the way you did."

"It's just a monster, anyway," Armadine snorted, folding his arms over his chest like a petulant child having his candy taken away.

"Monster or not, you should not have done it, and I wish you'd just admit that." The prince slowly turned the dragon figurine over in his hands. "When you do that sort of thing, you're no better than those barbarians in the south who pen up beasts and make them fight each other to the death, or try to hurl darts at the captive things."

"I always rather liked those barbarians," Armadine said, smiling.

"And you wonder why my mother looks down upon our friendship."

Anger slowly curled round Armadine's heart like a parasitic vine gradually strangling a tree. What did Kathlyn know of friendship. An infatuation with some filthy bird? The giggling amusement of some Aran'alian girl? The Queen made him sick. Who was she to judge her son's friends? Elvir had been Armadine's best friend nearly as long as he had drawn breath. They had grown up together, played together as children, pursued women together as youths, consoled each other in all their darkest times.

Armadine had always been there to support Elvir in every step of his life.

And what had Kathlyn done for her son, besides look down upon him for those he chose as friends? Nothing. She spent more time with her damn bird than she did with her own son. Pursued her misguided attempts to give a lesser people far too much freedom when instead she should have busied herself building Illandra's strengths. She should have been preparing her son to take the throne. Yet she did none of those things.

No, Elvir would be better off without her, and Armadine knew it.

"Your mother knows little of friendship, anyway." Armadine's face twisted like some tribal mask depicting a furious spirit. "She keeps a beast as a pet and claims him a friend. If she'd spent more time around you growing up, she'd know our friendship was not only genuine, but beneficial to you. Someone has to teach you the way the world works. As she so clearly could not be bothered to do so, she should not be so upset about my family and I stepping in to take the reins and guide you on the proper path."

"Perhaps," Elvir murmured, folding his hands together. He worked his fingers back and forth against each other a few times. "Though I sometimes think she has a point. The Aran'alians don't seem so unready to rule to me."

"Oh? Because one girl has managed to keep a captive dragon from biting anyone? Because she saved the treasury a few coins, no doubt by sticking her hand down some butcher's trousers?" Armadine snorted, licking his cracked lips. "Yes, those are certainly the qualities I look for in a leader."

"That's not what I meant and you know it." Elvir sighed. He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. "My mother has valid points about our country, and the things we've done. I think perhaps she may be right about the Aran'alians deserving a chance to rule themselves again."

"They'll only be conquered by someone else. It is a backwater of a province. It was little more than a scattering of barbarian villages beset by roaming beasts before we brought them true civilization. If we abandon them now their so-called country shall fall apart before our very eyes. We owe it to ourselves to continue guiding them down the proper path. Your mother simply fails to see that because she's blinded herself with her own vision of an ideal world." Armadine wrapped his fingers around the handle of his whip, stroking the braided leather. "An ideal world that will never exist no matter how deeply she yearns for it."

"My mother is just..."

Armadine cut him off. "Your mother sees Illandra as a criminal. She sees Illandra as a murderer, and a thief, and it is that belief that is driving us into ruin, because she refuses to let us act to our strengths. But Illandra is not a criminal. Illandra is a hunter. Illandra is a predator. Do we claim that wolves and lions are evil? No. It is their lot in life to hunt prey, and nourish themselves thusly. Do we claim a king who defeats his foe, and brings his land prosperity to be a monster? No! We proclaim him a victorious hero. Illandra is a predator, a warrior, a hunter. It is in the very nature of the world for the strong to nourish themselves on the weak. Wolves do not coddle sheep. Wolves do not claim the sheep should rule themselves. No, the wolves eat the sheep because that is the way of the world. Illandra is a wolf, and if Illandra does not feed, then Illandra will die. Your mother is slowly starving Illandra to death because she wishes to protect the sheep instead."

Elvir slumped into his chair. Annoyance and resignation clouded his face. He grit his teeth, grumbling under his breath. "I suppose that is one way to look at it."

"I simply hope that your mother has not killed Illandra off before you are given your due as King, and your chance to put us back on the right path."

Elvir sighed, reaching out to pluck one of the black gryphon feather quills from the ebony inkpot atop his desk. His mother had given quills made from Krek's feathers to quite a few of her family and friends over the years, a symbol of trust she liked to bestow. "I do not think Illandra's daylight has dimmed quite as deeply as you seem to." He ran his thumb over the feather a little, ruffling the black plumes. "But neither do I think we are as overstretched and weak as mother does. Rather, I suspect the truth is somewhere in between. Yet I will not disagree that Illanda would benefit from a free Aran'alia and Vurnel willing to join a military alliance."

Armadine tugged idly at the curled whip at his belt. "We would benefit more by increasing the amount of their resources we have sent to us, and simply conscripting more of them into our army."

"Volunteers will fight harder than conscripts."

"If that is the case, you must simply apply your boot to the conscript's throat for the proper motivation. After all, what good is a conquered populace if they cannot be put to use?"

"People are not a resource, Armadine." Elvir rolled the feather back and forth between his fingers. "At least not in the way you seem to see them lately."

"Are they not?" Armadine rose to his feet, walking around the room a little bit. He reached out and ran his fingers down the scaly, greenish hide of some monstrous lizard-like beast. "They're certainly a drain upon our resources. Why can they not be used as a resource themselves, in turn? All these lazy dark-haired Aran'alians clogging up our streets. So few of them even working for a living. Yet they claim they simply aren't given a chance. Well, I'll give them a chance to work. If it were up to me, I'd simply conscript them all into our armies. That would give them food, a bed, a bit of pay. Less than the volunteers of course, but surely more than they're making by picking pockets. Your mother thinks our army is overstretched, yet we've got all the men we'll ever need slinking around our back allies."

"It's a cold way of thinking. But not entirely insensible."

"Governance is not a warm bosom, Elvir. Governance must be cold because governance is all about the greater needs. If you stop to worry about every single person, if you try and dole out coin to every hand and food to every mouth in equal measure, you will run your country into the gutter. For a country to be strong, there must be sacrifice, and sometimes that sacrifice must come from the weakest members. Either the strong can thrive and the country can prosper, or the strong can suffer and starve by trying to share with the weak while their country crumbles around them. Those are the only ways of the world, and you had best learn that as soon as possible. All the strongest countries understand this. I assure you that Illandra's enemies understand this concept. They are growing strong by the day, and I promise you they are not wasting their coffers by trying to clothe and shelter a legion of weak-minded refugees."

"Refugees we created," Elvir said with a little sigh. He plopped the feather back in the inkpot. "Surely you see we have at least some responsibility..."

Armadine waved his hand. "I see no such thing. These people need to get over the fact they lost the war, and start contributing. Hell, even this Alia bitch has figured that out. If more of her people were like her and actually worked until they got a damn job, Illandra might not be so desperately in need of stronger leadership willing to let the wolves feed."

Elvir laughed to himself. "And here I thought you hated that woman."

"Oh..." Hot tines of slow burning fury buried themselves in Armadine's heart. "...I do."

"Which reminds me," Elvir said, leaning forward to put both hands upon his desk. "I don't want you giving her any trouble while my mother is away."

"Trouble?" Armadine turned towards his friend, innocently perking his brows. "Why would I give her trouble?"

"I mean it, Arma." Elvir tapped his fingers against a leather-wrapped folder. "I've been reading up on her, lately."

"Momma's boy," Armadine said with a smirk.

"Be that as it may," Elvir grinned back, mostly ignoring the chiding. "Mother seems to be right about her. These reports are..."

"Yes, yes," Armadine waved his hand, shooing the notion away like a bothersome fly. "The woman's a saint and a hero, so I've heard."

"I wouldn't go that far, but the point is, Mother has passed her judgment and I want you to respect that."

"Hardly a fair judgment," Armadine murmured, nudging the toe of his boot against a golden leaf-patterned rug upon the floor. "Three months banishment is an insult."

"And it was hardly fair of you to bring her personal life into it."

"It is disgusting!"

"I agree," Elvir said, holding up his hand for patience. "You know how I feel about my mother and that...bird." Elvir's composure darkened as he scowled. "But my mother is also right that what she does with that dragon is...not our concern. The effectiveness she's had in her job is our concern."

"But only three months..."

"Enough, Armadine," Elvir said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You're going to give me a headache if you get any more exasperating. Judgment is passed, and it will be respected. Just relax and enjoy the fact you won't have to see her for at least three months."

"And if she shows up early?"

"I shall order the guards to arrest her on sight if she returns to the castle before the three months is up. Then she can spend the rest of her banishment in a cold dungeon cell. Happy?"

"No." Armadine ground his teeth a little. "But I shall deal with it."

"By deal with it, you had better mean accept it." Elvir leaned back in his chair, watching his old friend closely. "I'm serious, Arma. I don't want you to touch her."

"Oh, I won't touch her," Armadine assured his friend. It was truthful enough. He had others to do the touching for him. Armadine tugged at the scaly green and gray hide a little bit. "Is this a dragon's hide?"

Elvir took a deep breath and slowly sighed when Armadine changed the subject. Still, he'd made his point. "No. Some other scaled beast. No wings or anything. More an animal than a dragon. Hell of a hunt, though."

"Ah," Armadine ran his fingers down the fine scaling over a front leg of the well-tanned hide. "Have you ever killed a dragon before?"

Elvir shook his head, glancing around his parlor. He had plenty of hides and leathers and furs from all sorts of beasts, but nothing he'd taken from a dragon. "No. Never had the chance."

"Would you like to?" Armadine asked, slowly turning towards the prince again.

Elvir stroked at the stubble upon his chin a moment. "I'm not sure."

"What's not to be sure about? Can you imagine a more thrilling hunt?"

"I can't imagine many more dangerous hunts, either."

"Which makes it all the more exciting, doesn't it?"

Elvir shook his head, laughing under his breath. "I suppose, as long as you survive. But they're not really beasts. They speak. They think. Apparently they even love, and seek vengeance."

"I don't see the problem." Armadine walked from trophy to trophy. He ran his hand over the bristly fur of great mountain-dwelling boar, then the silken hide of a towering arctic predator. He idly felt the ridges upon a set of horns from some desert dwelling monster, then glanced back to the prince when he didn't get a reply. "Why should that keep you from hunting one?"

Elvir gaped at him a moment. "For the same reason I'd not hunt a man for sport, or even a damn Urd'thin."

"I should think you wouldn't hunt an Urd'thin because they're disgusting and smell like excrement." Armadine chortled to himself. "To say nothing of the fact they'd not be much sport."

Elvir didn't share Armadine's self-amused laughter. "I wouldn't hunt them because they're not beasts. Hunting animals is one thing. Hunting creatures that think is...well, it's wrong. That includes dragons, apparently."

"Yet you don't seem to have any trouble with dragonslayers."

Elvir shrugged. He reached out and plucked a knife from the table. The blade was forged of dark Damascus steel, swirling lines ran through it. The hilt was carved from the horn of a dragon. He had not slain the beast himself, but he'd seen the corpse some years back while on a journey. He knew the slayers who'd killed the thing, and they'd given him the horn as a gift to have made into a knife. "That's different. They hunt down dragons who attack villages, murder people. Those beasts deserve their death. But it's wrong to hunt and kill some random dragon who's done nothing wrong."

"So..." Armadine spread his arms wide as if making some great point. "You'd be happy to hunt and kill a dragon so long as the dragon deserved to die."

Elvir wasn't sure what Armadine was getting at, but he shrugged nonetheless. "I suppose so, yes. Though I don't know that I could do it myself."

"I'm sure we could put a team together for you, should it ever come to that," Armadine said, smiling.

"What are you on about, Armadine?" Elvir set the knife back down.

Armadine walked over to the desk and set his hands upon it. He leaned forward, smiling at Elvir. "We've a bit of a dragon problem in Aran'alia. I thought perhaps when your mother returns from her journey, you might want to help us deal with it."

"A dragon problem, hmm?" Elvir smirked, leaning back in his chair. "You mean they don't like you turning their old mountain homes into quarries and trying to dig up all those supposedly magic stones?"

"Something like that," Armadine replied, his eyes shining. "Though we are hardly the first to attempt that. Besides." He rose back up, gesturing to a few bare spots on the wall. "Wouldn't you love a bronze and blue hide upon your wall?"

"That's an odd set of colors."

"Perhaps you'd prefer them separate. A bronze hide, and a blue hide." Armadine grinned to himself as he turned back around. "We've plenty of the beasts to go around."

"I suppose if it becomes necessary, I could consider it."

"Good to know," Armadine murmured.

Before long, the prince was going to have plenty of reason to want to slay dragons. While his back was turned to Elvir, Armadine allowed himself a smile. When that big blue bitch came and killed the Queen, Elvir would be crowned king. And the new king would be vengeful. A vengeful king was just what Illandra needed. A vengeful king would unleash the wolves and let them feed upon the weaker peoples and the weaker nations. Illandra would be strong once more.

Yes. Once that blue dragoness had done her job and slain Kathlyn, Armadine would have to be sure she was next on his list of obstacles to remove. Surely she was cooking something up in that filthy little dragon brain of hers. Once Elvir was king, Armadine would have to make sure his friend got a chance to join a party of dragonslayers. Elvir should be allowed his vengeance, after all.

The new king should have his revenge upon The Wind That Carries and all her vile brood.

Just as Armadine would soon have his revenge upon Alia. He'd let her enjoy her little banishment first, to avoid suspicion falling upon him. Then, when she'd settled into her new rhythm, he'd have Traval put his plans for her into motion. Yes, Armadine liked the sound of that. He would have his vengeance upon Alia, and Elvir would have his vengeance upon The Wind.

Then Illandra would consume all that was left of Aran'alia till only the wolves remained.

---

Chapter Thirteen

---

Warm summer rain fell on Ayly's face. Rain fell on the rest of her, too. Ayly loved the rain, but she didn't like thunder because thunder was loud and loud things were scary. Thunder was like the sky roaring at her and when things roared at her Ayly got scared and when Ayly got scared Ayly hid beneath Mother's wings. Why did thunder have to scare her anyway? Was thunder her foe?

Today there was no scary thunder. Today there was just fun rain. So Ayly ran and jumped and bound and sprinted and skidded and splashed. She roared at the rain, daring it to fall harder. When it did not, she considered herself victorious.

Ayly liked to play in the long grass by the river when it rained, but Mother wouldn't let her today. When the rain fell too much the river got big and the river got mad and Mother didn't like it when the river got mad. Mother sometimes talked to Father in hushed tones about something the river once carried away, but that was alright with Ayly. She didn't want to get carried away either. No one wanted to live in an angry river. Besides, the river was cold even when the rain was warm and Ayly didn't like the cold. Ayly liked the warm.

So when the rains fell all day long, Ayly played in the fields around her house instead, or in the many puddles that appeared along the roads that led through the village. Ayly liked the puddles and when it rained there were not as many people on the roads to get in her way. From time to time Mother called out for Ayly to get out of the road because horses were coming or a carriage was on its way. Ayly heeded her mother's calls but soon bound right back out to jump in the nearest, biggest, muddiest puddle.

Ayly liked the rain and Ayly liked the mud. Sometimes Mother got mad about the mud but not when it rained because the rain washed the mud right back off Ayly before she could track it into their house. Ayly didn't know why mother didn't like the mud because the mud was fun and it made her look tough. Father often came home muddy from work and Mother always seemed to like it because it gave her a chance to take Father to the river and bathe him and Mother liked to bathe Father and sometimes they wrestled.

Spotting a particularly large, particularly muddy puddle up ahead, Ayly crouched down and waggled her haunches. She was a ferocious predator, a dangerous dragon feared by all her foes. She still wasn't sure who her foes were but she was sure that they feared her and her ferocious roaring and all her many claws and teeth. When she finally met her foes, she would bite them right on their butts and send them running away to hide behind their mothers. Maybe not thunder, cause thunder scary. But for the rest of her foes...

"Raawrrr!" Ayly roared, and sprang into action.

She bound down the road and leapt as high and far as she could. In fact she leapt too high and too far, and missed the puddle she was targeting entirely. She landed on wet cobblestone and her paws slipped out from under her in all directions. With a startled yelp she flopped right onto her belly and skidded down the road. In the distance she heard her mother laughing. The laughter was infectious to the little hatchling and soon she was giggling too. Good humor outweighed any embarrassment.

Ayly pushed herself back to her feet, and shook herself. Droplets sprayed in all directions from her scaly little body, quickly replaced by the falling rain. She turned around, baring her fangs at the puddle as though it was somehow responsible for her missed pounce. Ayly stalked towards the edge of the muddy looking puddle. Splashes and ripples rolled across the surface from each droplet of rain that struck it.

"Imma get you!" Ayly growled at the puddle.

When its only response was to continue rippling as more rain splashed down against it, Ayly lashed out with her purple paw and struck the water. A much larger splash resulted and sent a fat muddy droplet right against her sensitive nose. The sudden splatter of muddy water between her nostrils startled Ayly. She yelped, backpedaled and flopped down onto her scaly rump in the middle of the street, her silvery eyes wide.

"What happened, my love?" Called out Ayly's mother.

Ayly peered up at the much larger dragoness as she approached. Her mother was beautiful, colored like the sky and the sunset and pretty purple flowers and silver speckled snow. Bluest along her back, fading to purple along her sides and belly with silver speckles like stars dusting her haunches and tail. The silver stripes that marked her forelegs looked like the icing on Ayly's favorite honey cakes.

Ayly thrust her paw accusingly at the muddy puddle. "Puddle getted me!"

"Aww, that mean old puddle," Aylyryn said, grinning. She lowered her head and licked at her daughter's blunt little snout as though clearing away the mud. The rain had already washed it away before she arrived, but the gesture was all that mattered. "There, all better."

"Now Imma get it!" Ayly jumped back to her feet. She waggled her black scaled rump, purple tipped tail swaying behind her. Then she pounced and this time landed directly in the puddle. The impact was enough to send a wave of muddy water sloshing over the hatchling, with brownish spray splattering her mother as well. Ayly giggled, bouncing in the puddle. "I got it, I got it!"

Aylyryn tilted her head back, closing her eyes to let the rain wash the mud from her face. She murmured in amusement, pinning her spines back. "You certainly did, my love."

Aylynaryn slowly turned a circle in the puddle, stomping and splashing and giggling like mad. "Splishy, splashy, splashy, splishy!" Ayly giggled to herself. Sometimes her Father sang her that little song when he took her to play in the rain. But Father wasn't here today so she'd better sing it extra loud. She took a deep breath, and at the top of her lungs, called out, "SPLASHY SPLISHY SPLISHY SPLASHY PLAYING IN THE RAIN!"

Aylyryn pinned her frilled ears back against her purple and blue head, grinning. "Not so loud, my lovely little mud monster. The whole town doesn't need to know you're playing in the rain."

Aylynaryn gasped and gaped up at her mother. Her muzzle hung open in hatchling shock. She wasn't shocked at being called a mud monster. Mother called her often when she played in the mud. Rather, Ayly was shocked at the very idea that the entire town didn't want to know what she was doing at all times.

"Of course they do!" She took a deep breath, preparing to call out her splashy fun time song as loudly as she could once more. Then her belly rumbled, and for a moment she just stood there with her mouth open. As the hunger pangs rattled her stomach, she had a better idea. "Let's get fishies!" Then she was off, sprinting down the road, singing a different tune. "Fishy, fishy, in my tum!"

"Ayly!" Aylyryn called out, though it was already far too late to stop the hatchling's heedless sprint down the street and into the village. "The market might not even be open right now!"

Ayly could scarcely conceive of such a thing. Surely the market was open and surely the fish vendor was open and surely he'd leave a fish out and forget about it just long enough for her to steal it and oh wait mother was with her and she couldn't steal the fish now or mother would know that she stole fish and she'd get in trouble and...

Ayly's near endless stream of thought was only interrupted when shadows swooped through the clouds above. Something dark was descending through the rainstorm. Ayly skidded to a halt at the edge of the market district of town. Many of the stalls were indeed shuttered, a few others remained open with colorful canopies erected to help keep the rain off the vendors and their wares. In some places the rain had collected in open vessels and containers left out. Where the rain was gathered and free of all the dirt upon the road, it held an odd, slightly silvery sheen to it. Yet Ayly paid the silvery water little heed because she soon realized that the dark shape slowly spiraling down from the clouds was in fact, her favorite giffid.

Granted, it was the only giffid she knew, but still.

"It's my giffid bed!" Ayly announced as her mother caught up to her.

Aylyryn laughed and shook her horned head, then gently nosed her daughter. "Yes, it seems it is. Which means your father can't be too far behind. At least he'd better not be. If Krek's left him leagues behind I'm going to squeeze his..." Then when she saw Ayly staring intently at her, she amended herself. "Paws."

Down the street, the gryphon swept in for a landing where there was plenty of open space in the rain soaked plaza. Ayly glanced up at her mother, grinning deviously. "Imma climb Mount Giffid!"

Then she was off again. Ayly heard her mother yell something about bandages, and something else about, don't climb someone or other, but Ayly was certain her mother must be talking to someone else. After all Ayly didn't have any bandages on, and what was Mount Giffid for if not for climbing? Perhaps for sleeping on because she'd also discovered a soft fuzzy giffid made an excellent bed.

Krek had only just landed when Ayly sprang onto him. He squawked in alarm, flaring and flapping his wings as Ayly sunk her tiny claws in for purchase, and swiftly made her way up his soaked black-feathered body. As she climbed she noticed a few soggy white strips of cloth now circled him here and there, but paid them little heed. Giffids could wear whatever funny looking clothes they wanted.

"AWWK!" Krek squawked and huffed, turning his head to snap his beak and glare at the hatchling. "I've only just arrived! Couldn't you put off climbing me like a tree until I've gotten dry, at least?"

"Hi, Lellumgurb!" Ayly chirped happily as she reached his shoulder. She even remembered his name. Sort of.

Krek sighed to himself, his glare soon melting. "That is not my name, Ayly."

"Uh huh." Ayly nodded. "Uh huh it is. Lellumgurb the Giffid Bed."

"I am not a bed," Krek snorted. "And it's gryphon, not giffid."

Ayly poked and prodded at his feathers a little. Then she squeezed a pawful of the fine pinfeathers upon the gryphon's neck, watching water squish out between her purple fingers. She scrunched her muzzle. "You're soggy, Lellumgurb."

"So are you," the gryphon muttered, shaking himself a little.

"Nuh uh," Ayly told him, stretching herself to plop her little wedge shaped head atop his own. Her dark blue snout stood out against Krek's black feathers. "I's got scales and scales dun get soggy."

"Then you're soaking wet, at least."

"But not soggy like you, Soggy Feathers!" Ayly giggled to herself, beating her little blue and purple edged wings against the rain in amusement. Then she nipped at his ear. "I'm hungry, Lellumgurb."

"Ow," Krek hissed, turning his head to glare back at her, green eyes narrowed against the rain. "Don't do that, Ayly."

"But I'm hungry!"

"Be that as it may, I do not want you feasting upon my ear."

Ayly took a breath so deep her tiny black chest plates were nearly separating. Then she heaved a sigh of hungry hatchling resignation. "Oohhh kaaay."

"Krek!" Aylyryn called out as she neared the gryphon settled in the plaza. "What happened?"

Ayly didn't give him any time to reply. Instead she turned her silver eyes upon her mother. "Momma!" She giggled and flared her tiny spines. "Lellumgurb's soggy!" Then she swatted her paw against Krek's neck to prove her point, squishing waterlogged feathers and sending little droplets flying about. "Soggy bird, soggy bird!"

"Ayly!" Her mother snapped at her, lashing her tail. There was a fearful sharpness to her mother's voice that made the warm rain suddenly feel much colder against her scales. "Stop that, and get down from Krek at once."

"Yes, Mother," Ayly murmured. Then she pressed her blunt little blue snout against Krek's ear, whispering. "I think she's mad at you, Lellumgurb."

Ayly scrabbled halfway down Krek's back, and then leapt into the air, flaring her blue and purple edged wings. They weren't large enough to allow her to glide, but the instinct was there. She gave a gleeful cry as she dropped to wet cobblestone plaza, skidding to a stop. Then she padded over to where her mother sat, and butted her head against Aylyryn's silver-speckled haunch. She whined plaintively and peered up at her mother.

"Momma, I'm hungry," she said, bumping her nub-like horns against her mother's scales.

"In a moment, love," Aylyryn said, though her focus was clearly on Krek. She reached out with a paw and gently touched some of the soggy looking cloth that was wrapped around him in several places. "What happened? Where's Valar?"

"Shortly behind me," Krek replied, glancing down at the bandages. They were wrapped along his side and around his limbs, though as he had to be able to fly it was more a covering and less a tight bandaging. "His family and I had a disagreement."

Aylyryn's muzzle twisted into a scowl, pebbly purple hued scales crinkling together. "How bad is it?"

"Well, I do not think they'll be inviting me to Kylaryn's next hatching day celebration."

"Your wounds," Aylyryn hissed, in no mood for Krek's so-called wit.

"Hatching day, hatching day," Ayly chirped, bouncing about on her paws. "Hatching day, hatching day!" She paused and peered up at Krek, grinning. "It's my hatching day!"

"Not fatal," Krek replied, glancing back at his bandaged side. "And I can still fly, but I do feel as though half my body is currently held together by an assortment of bundled sticks and twine." He flared up his wet silver crown feathers, then gave Aylyryn a little grin. "I'm alright, Trouble. Just some stitches."

"Hatching day!" Ayly called out. She didn't like being ignored. With a playful growl, she pounced upon one of her giffid's forepaws. She gnawed at his toes, then looked up at him, golden flecks shining in her silver eyes. "Its hatching day!"

"No it isn't," Aylyryn said, grasping her daughters tail. She gave it a little tug. "Behave, Ayly. We need to get Krek somewhere dry."

Aylyryn turned and began to walk back the way they'd come, away from the plaza in the center of the little village and towards their house beyond. Ayly whined, she was hungry. She didn't like being ignored. She didn't like not eating. She didn't like not playing in the rain. She stood her ground and stomped a paw in a puddle. "I'mma stay and play and eat and play and eat!"

"No you are not!" Aylyryn snapped at her. Ayly whimpered, pinning her ears back. Her mother softened her tone just a little. "You will come with us on your own or you'll be carried in my jaws."

"Eep!" Ayly squeaked at that. She didn't want to end up hanging from her mother's jaws again. That was how tiny hatchlings were carried, not big, strong, ferocious dragons like her. It was embarrassing when village saw her dangling from Mother's jaws. She heaved a heavy sigh, her wings drooping. "Yes, Mother," she murmured, moving to pad along at her mother's side.

Krek soon moved up on the other side of Ayly, walking nearly in time with her mother. If not for the hunger gnawing at her belly, Ayly would have felt quite important, walking between two big adults. If only there were more humans out playing in the rain to see her walking along with them. Clearly she was the most important of the group. After all, Mother and Soggy Bird must be serving as her bodyguards. Yes, that was it. She waggled her rump as she walked, feeling important.

"Raawrr!" She roared to herself. "I'mma get you now, foes!"

Krek glanced down at her, grinning. "Since when do you have foes?"

"Since now!"

The gryphon chuckled as Ayly contented herself with growling insults and threats at her various imagined foes. Ayly's mother and the gryphon walked slowly enough for her to keep up with them, which didn't always happen. After a few moments, the hatchling noticed that Krek was walking a little funny. One of his hind legs didn't quite seem to match the other the way it normally did. It reminded her of her father. That made her giggle.

"You walk like Father!"

"Temporarily so in my case, with any luck." Krek opened one of his wings, and held it out as if to shield Ayly from the rain. "I probably fly like your father right now, too."

"Is he hurt?" Worry chilled Aylyryn's voice.

"He's got some cuts and scratches from his brother, but nothing serious. The only reason I got here first is he told me to fly ahead. Wanted me to get here and get dried off." Krek smiled weakly. "I think he just wanted some peace and quiet away from me."

Ayly snuggled up under the gryphon's wing. Much as she liked the feeling of the warm rain splattering against her scales and wings, the concern creeping into the adult's voices was starting to make her feel a little chilly. "Who got cut and scratched?"

"Was it his brother who hurt you?" Aylyryn ignored her daughter's question for the moment.

"Yes. He only got wounded because he'd come to defend me." Krek shook himself, faintly silver-tinted water flying in all directions. "Voskyr ended up getting the worst of it. Broken ribs, bruised balls..."

Aylyryn giggled at that. "Lellumgurb said balls!"

When neither Krek nor her mother acknowledged the fact she'd just said a dirty word, Ayly knew something was wrong. Normally that was an easy way to get attention. She narrowed her silver eyes, peering up at Krek beyond the edges of his wing. She thought about it a moment, trying to figure out who and what they were discussing. She was a smart little hatchling, and she knew when they didn't want her to know something. Of course that just made her want to know it even more.

As they all walked through the rain towards the edge of town, a few passersby in heavy rain cloaks called out to them. Some asked if Krek was alright, but the two adults gave only cursory answers and quick thanks for their concern. A few other people dashed from building to building, holding slats of wood or other material over their heads as a temporary rain shield. Ayly paid them all little heed, her mind focused on her highly important task of discovering what the adults were hiding from her now.

"Perhaps you should have Kathlyn come hide here for a while." Aylyryn peered at Krek, rain dripping off her facial scales like silvery tears.

"That's what he suggested, as well," Krek replied, then shook his head, fur and feathers all slicked down against him. "I don't think she would agree to it, and I would be quite fearful that his mother would turn her attentions to your lovely little town."

"She wouldn't do that," Aylyryn said. Whatever she was talking about, she didn't sound very sure of herself to Ayly. "How far behind you was he?"

"Not terribly."

"I hope he has not worn his wings out." Aylyryn lashed her tail against the ground, splattering rainwater that sluiced between the cobblestones.

Worn out his wings? Who could do that? Someone with bad wings, that's who. Father had bad wings. And Father had been gone lately. Gone with Krek. Yes, she remembered his real name. But it was boring. She liked Lellumgurb better. And Father had been gone with Lellumgurb and Father had bad wings. Oh!

"You're talking about Father!" When Ayly's mother snapped her head around to look down at Ayly with wide eyes, the hatchling knew she was right. She giggled and bounced around in a circle for a moment. Then she blinked up at Krek. Why was he limping? "Did Father beat you up?"

"No," Krek chuckled to himself. "His brother did."

"Oh..." She'd met Fathers brother once, she thought. But it was a long time ago. It had to have been at least a hundred years. Or ten years. Or six weeks. She wasn't sure, but it was all a very long time to her. Ayly came to a stop in the street, whimpering a little. "Where's Father?"

"He'll be here soon," Aylyryn assured her. "Come along, Love."

Ayly started to pad after them again, running to catch up at first. "Is Father hurt?"

"No more so than you when you tumbled down that hill into all that bramble," Aylyryn murmured, lowering her head to give her daughter a few warm, comforting licks across her neck. "Just some scratches."

"But that hurted a lot! I cutted up my wings and my pads and my butt." She turned her head to look back at herself. All that remained from that incident now were a few barely perceptible scar lines across her haunches, and her wings. She wiggled her scaly rump, glad she'd healed up. No one liked a cut butt. "Cut butt," she giggled to herself.

"Father is fine," Aylyryn said. Still, there was a sharpness to her voice, an edge that cut through the rainy afternoon and laid bare the concern pressing down against the adults.

"Then why isn't..."

"Ayly," The dragoness snapped, clacking her teeth. She held up a paw towards her daughter, growling a little. "Enough!"

Ayly quieted down, pinning her ears back against her skull. Mother was worried and now she was angry and that made Ayly worried too. She whimpered and slunk out from under Krek's wing to nuzzle at her mother's fore paw. Aylyryn sighed, lowered her head and gave her daughter an apologetic lick.

"Momma, I wanna ride!"

Aylyryn glanced at Krek, who did not hesitate to scoop the little one up in a fore paw. He gently deposited her upon her mother's back. Aylynaryn snuggled in between her mother's wings, heedless of the rain that gently pattered against her. Aylyryn raised her wings a little bit to cradle her daughter as she resumed the slow walk back home. Ayly sighed and lay her head down, staring out past her mother's wing at the colorful buildings scrolling by. Now and then she caught flashes of the river behind the buildings. It looked brown today and it rushed and boiled with growing anger.

"This rain," Krek murmured as they neared the bridge near the waterwheel Ayly liked. "Is it always this color here?"

"Hmm?" Aylyryn was barely paying attention.

"The rain," Krek said a little louder. "It has a silver tone to it. Like Aran'alian rain."

"Oh, that," Aylyryn replied, her voice still distant. "It didn't used to be like that. But lately it often seems silver-tinted. Valar and I were talking about that not long before you arrived, in fact."

"Interesting," Krek said, clicking his beak. Then he moved closer to nuzzle the dragoness. "He's alright, Trouble. Just some scratches, I promise."

"Thank you," replied Ayly's mother. She turned her head and licked Krek's neck. "Though I'm more concerned with what he's going to do next. He's a stubborn streak bigger than this whole village..."

"At least we know where he gets it from."

Ayly sighed a little atop her mother. As they walked past her favorite blue waterwheel, she watched it rotating through the water. It was moving faster than usual, the white patches on it looked like clouds whipping across the sky. Soon they were crossing the covered bridge, temporarily sheltered from the rain. Beyond the wooden lattice carved in cross-crossing leaves the river churned. The water looked higher and closer to the bridge than usual. The others didn't seem to notice how it was spinning her waterwheel so much faster. No one was going in and out of the mill the way they usually did. Ayly didn't know why everyone else didn't like playing in the rain.

Once they crossed the bridge, the buildings thinned out giving Ayly a view of the animal pens and fields beyond. Long rows of fence constructed of twisted willow boughs penned in a group of sheep. Their wool looked soggy yet the sheep themselves continued to graze. At least they didn't mind the rain. Beyond a larger, sturdier fence and markers of stacked stones was the old bull. Ayly didn't like the old bull because the old bull was stinky. And further beyond the bull were emerald fields of crops and rolling hills of grass and wild sage and heather. Red and blue blossoms recently colored the hills though today everything was obscured by rainy haze like a gauzy curtain of spun silver.

The walls that surrounded the village were simple. They were built mostly of a variety of flat gray stones gathered from the surrounding hills and little valleys as well as some of the quarries where the masons worked. In some places they were simply stacked atop each other, while in others they were mortared together. The walls were more to keep beasts at bay than marauders or bandits. After all, it was a well known fact in this part of the land that the village had dragons protecting it.

The house that the dragons lived in was built by the village as a gesture of friendship and of thanks for just such protection. It was also a way to show their appreciation for all the hard work the dragons had put into the village over the years, and a way of letting the dragons know they were welcome to stay for all their lives. By now Ayly and her family were as much an intrinsic part of the village as the waterwheel she so loved and the market she so often visited.

The place Ayly called home was not at all unlike the home of a human on a much larger scale. The multi-story building sat atop a bluff overlooking the river. It was located just a little ways beyond the village walls. A gentle slope nearby led down to an area of sandy bank and usually lazy current. The entire building had been designed and constructed with dragons in mind, and had been built as sturdily as possible to withstand the long years of good natured abuse by its inhabitants.

While most buildings in the village were constructed of wood, this one was built of stone like a miniature castle. After all, stone could better take the wear and tear of a family of dragons than a home made of wood. To keep the place from seeming too cold and fortress-like, the building was painted in a bright, cheerful blue color. Over the top of the blue other murals had been painted. There were scenes of dragons in flight over a happy looking village. Another scene depicted the two adult dragons at play with their daughter, while yet another showed Ayly running around a crowd of humans offering her treats and toys. The messages were clear enough. Yes, a family of dragons dwelled in this place, and yes, they were friend to all who would have them.

Windows were cut into the stone in many places. They had no glass panes, they were simply left open to allow air to flow in and out and help keep the stone home from getting too stuffy. Each window also had thick hide curtains that could be folded down over the window to block out the cold or the heat or for privacy. Not that dragons seemed too inclined to privacy most of the time. A trail cut through grass by dragon paws and human boots lead away from the road that entered the village and straight to the dragon's front door. Large signs along the side of the road were painted with images of the dragons, and each sign also gave the dragon's name in the common tongue. Let everyone who dwelled here know the names of their friends.

Ayly smiled at the sign depicting her as they passed it. She didn't think she could smile quite that big no matter how hard she tried. She tried to smile as wide as she could, stretching her jaws and pulling her lips back. She turned to look at Krek, who stared back at her with wide, green eyes.

"Are you alright, Ayly?" The gryphon cocked his head. "You look as though you've got a cramp in your face."

Ayly huffed. "I'm smiling like my sign."

"I don't think anyone could smile like your sign, my dear," Krek said, chuckling. "And I see your mother still hasn't added my sign."

"You don't get a sign unless you live here," Aylyryn murmured. "But if you do, yours will say Stink-bird on it."

"Oh, not you too." Krek groaned, hanging his head a little.

Ayly giggled. "Stink-bird, stink-bird, Lellumgurb's a stinky bird!"

"Don't you start!"

"Sir Stink-bird Soggy Feathers!" Ayly giggled even louder, sitting up on her mother's back. Time to remind everyone of her most pressing need. "Momma!" Ayly swatted her mother's neck for emphasis. "I'm hungry!"

"I know, I know," Aylyryn said, fatigue weighing down her voice. "We'll get you some food in just a moment."

Ayly peered from her mother's back towards the front door. The door was large and gently arched, more than enough to accommodate even the largest of dragons. It too was painted with its own mural. Rolling green hills dotted with gray spikes of stone spread across the door. A swirl of bright silvery rain drops cascaded down above them. A little memory of home, Father often said. Ayly didn't know why that reminded father of home because that wasn't the village at all. Then again, the rain did look funny today.

"Look Momma!" Ayly pointed with a paw towards the door. "Rain looks like that today!"

Aylyryn cast the door's mural only a cursory glanced before she grasped the large, horizontal handle and pushed it down. "Yes, love." The latch clicked and the door slowly swung open. The hinges were freshly oiled, thanks to Aylyryn raising a rather loud complaint at the City Maintenance office the other day. "Come on in, Krek. Let's get you dried off."

Compared to the rain-soaked air outside, the inside of the house seemed dry and warm. Ayly carefully climbed down from her mother's back and hopped to the floor. Aylyryn shook herself just inside the door, spraying droplets around. Then she padded deeper into the house to give Krek a chance to do the same without soaking her in turn. The gryphon shook himself gingerly, his body aching too much to allow a thorough feather-shaking. Ayly giggled at the soggy bird and then shook herself as well. Silver-tinted droplets ran down the walls of the entry hall.

The entry hall of their home led into the largest of the three rooms upon the ground floor. Essentially the draconic equivalent of a living room, it was filled with a sprawling assortment of colorful cushions, blankets, pillows and other soft things for the dragons to lounge around upon. The walls were lined with shelves covered in various trinkets and treasures and heirlooms, as well as large bookcases filled with a library's amount of books. There were a few recliners and sofas and other types of human furniture as well for when the dragons had visitors. A few paintings and tapestries hung from the walls here and there, depicting Aran'alian landscapes and dragons in flight.

At one end of the room a hearth was built into the wall. Though most of the walls were gray granite, the hearth itself was white marble with a few golden ribbons in it. The hearth was designed in a sort of curved, sloping shape like the roofs of the houses Ayly had seen in paintings of Father's old home. Because it was white, Ayly thought it looked like a happy little snow covered house. When the fire burned inside it, the golden flecks all shone like windows at night.

Aylyryn gave her daughter's head a few licks after closing the door behind everyone. "I'll go and get you some food." Then she glanced at Krek. "And some towels for Stink-bird."

Krek grinned at her, watching her haunches sway as she sauntered off into one of the other rooms. Despite the fact he was still soggy and wet, Krek belly flopped onto the largest, most comfortable looking cushions he could find. The black gryphon groaned in a way that somehow mixed pain and weary comfort.

However, Ayly was not about to let the gryphon rest comfortably. Ayly padded right over in front of Krek, and pointed at the blue cushion he lay his head upon. "That's mine."

Krek snorted, lifting his ears and flaring his crown feathers just a little. "Only your father gets to say that to me and have it mean anything."

"But it's miiiiiinne!" Ayly whined, stomping a paw and lashing her purple-tipped tail.

Krek gave a heavy sigh, slowly lifting his head. "I see he's taught you well." He pushed her the cushion, and pulled himself another one to lay his head upon. "There you are."

Ayly sniffed at the blue cushion, and then flopped down upon it. She whined again. "Now it's soggy."

"You should have thought of that before you demanded it from me."

Ayly stared at him. She twisted and curled upon the cushion. After a moment she sat up upon it as though it was her squishy blue throne. She pointed her paw at the second cushion Krek had lain his head upon. "That's mine."

"No," Krek murmured, wrapping a foreleg around the cushion. "This one is definitely mine. Don't you remember? We already had this discussion, before your father and I left a little while back."

Ayly considered that a moment, and decided to revise her claim. She lifted her paw, pointing instead directly at Krek. "That's mine."

"Says who?" Krek gave an indignant squawk.

"Me," Ayly chirped in reply. "That's my giffid bed."

"I suppose you're going to come over here and sleep on me again, eh my Dear?"

"No," Ayly said, shaking her head.

"And why not?"

"I dun like soggy beds," Ayly replied as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. How could the giffid not know that? She scrunched her muzzle in distaste. "Get dry, Soggy Feathers!"

"He'll be dry soon enough," Aylyryn called out from the other room. "But do be careful where you lay on him, he's hurt."

"Poor Lellumgurb," Ayly said, nodding in sympathy. "Soggy and hurt."

Aylyryn soon came back out with a large wooden platter held in her teeth. She set it down between the gryphon and her daughter. The platter was covered with an assortment of smoked and dried fish, some cheeses, some breads with jam spread upon them, and some various preserved fruits and things. Ayly gave a happy little squeal and quickly began to shovel food into her muzzle.

"Don't eat too fast, Love, or you'll give yourself a belly ache."

Ayly jerked her head up, staring at her mother in surprise. "Nuh uh! I has a belly ache cause I'm hungry!"

"Her logic is certainly sound," Krek murmured, watching Ayly eat. "Looks like an awful lot of human food you're feeding her."

"She likes human food," Aylyryn explained. "It's easier to keep food in the house that won't spoil quickly. Feel free to help yourself if you're hungry, she won't eat all that."

Ayly gasped in shock at her mother's claim. She flared out her little wings as if to try and hide her food. "But it's miiiiiiine!"

"Don't be greedy, Ayly," her mother said, licking her daughter's nose. "Share with your bed while I get some towels."

Krek squawked in indignation. "I am not her bed. But, I will partake of her snacks." He smiled at Ayly. "With little Ayly's permission of course."

Ayly stared up at him. Then, in the interest of dragon-giffid bed friendship, she nudged the tray a little closer to the gryphon. "Okay."

"And what are the best bits, My dear? What do you recommend?"

As Ayly made her recommendations and Krek began to sample the assorted snacks, Aylyryn returned with a few towels. They were useful things even for dragons. They helped dry and polish wet scales. More importantly, they proved excellent at wiping up muddy paw prints from stone floors. Aylyryn began to gently brush the gryphon down with the towels, working as much excess moisture from his fur and feathers as she could. He rolled to his uninjured side after a while so that Aylyryn could work on drying his chest and belly as well.

"Let me know in advance if I'm going to have to throw one of these towels over your hind end to hide your excitement." Aylyryn smirked at Krek while rubbing his belly with a dark red towel. "There are some things Ayly just isn't ready to see."

"I think that would be of greater concern if I didn't feel as though I'd had my ribcage flayed open not long ago." Krek smirked right back at her, thumping at her with his tufted tail. "Though if she runs out to play, and you'd like to go a little hands on, I'm sure the effort would be rewarded."

"I'm not sending her back out into the rain now, Krek," Aylyryn chuckled, leaning in to nip at one of his ears.

"Perhaps you could just cover me with the towel then while you worked your paw. Tell her you've giving me a special massage."

Aylyryn couldn't help laughing at that. "You are the dirtiest bird I've ever met."

"I shall take that as a compliment." Krek sighed to himself, laying his head down on the cushion again. "Was worth a try, anyway."

Soon Krek was nearly dry, Ayly's belly was nearly full, and the little hatchling was nearly asleep. She curled atop her blue cushion and yawned, her pink tongue curling inside her blue-marked muzzle. Then she lay her little wedge-shaped head on her purple and blue forepaws. Through sleepily slitted eyes she watched her mother carefully work on drying Krek's wings with the towel. Ayly saw her mother peer under the bandages across Krek's side. From the way her mother scrunched up her snout, she must not have liked what she saw.

"Going to have to get these wet bandages replaced as well." Aylyryn patted Krek's shoulder. "I'll get a healer from the village to do that for you tonight."

It was not long after that when the front door opened, and Ayly's father finally slunk inside. He pushed the door shut with a hind paw and shook himself in the entryway. Silvery mist surrounded his body for a few moments, faintly visible in the cool gray light that seeped through the windows. Here and there raindrops blew through the holes in the stone, running down the walls in wet trails. A bit of green moss clung to the nearest window ledge.

Ayly jerked her head up from her paws, instantly wide awake again as soon as she spotted her father. "Father!" She squealed in glee, jumping to her paws and hopping off the cushion. "Father! FatherFatherFatherFatherFatherFather!"

Ayly galloped across the living room as fast as her stubby little hatchling legs would carry her. She darted and wove her way around the cushions and piles of blankets that littered the floor like obstacles of pure comfort. Stupid pillows. How rude of them to be in her way when she was trying to pounce upon her father's legs. Ayly lashed her tail at one of the pillows as she ran past it, nudging it a good few inches. That would show it to mess with Ayly, Queen Of All Things She Wished To Be Queen Of.

"FATHER!" Ayly shrieked in glee as flung herself against her father's blue foreleg, covering the last few feet through the air. She wrapped her front legs around Valar's limb, clinging to him. "FATHER! You're back! I missed you!"

Ayly blinked to herself as she realized what that meant. Father had been gone far too long, and without the permission of Queen Ayly. Well, she'd have to punish him, and that was all there was to it. Ayly promptly bit down against the dark blue scutes on the front of his leg, gnawing at them with all the fury a tiny hatchling could muster. How dare he be gone so long. And how dare he keep walking into their home even as she clung to his leg and chewed on his scutes. Didn't he realize she was violently assaulting him at this very moment? Father could be awfully rude sometimes.

"Hello, my love," Valar murmured, lowering his head to lick at the back of Ayly's neck. "Nice to know I was missed. I've missed you too."

Ayly purred to herself, arching her neck into the warm, soothing caress of her father's tongue. Then she blinked to herself. Oh, no. Father wasn't getting away that easily. She released her grasp on his leg, hopping down to her paws. Then she promptly hoisted her purple marked front paw, and swatted her father soundly on the nose.

"Bad Father!" She chastised him, hissing through her teeth. That would show him.

"Ow!" Valar yelped, jerking his head back. Ignoring the laughter from his mate and the gryphon, Valar rubbed his nose. He gave Ayly a stern look, golden eyes narrowed and spines lifted just a little. "No hitting, Ayly."

"No goin' away for ten years, Father!" Ayly snapped right back at him. Then she spotted some of the scratches on his face. "Did you get beat up?"

"Yes," Aylyryn said, walking over to nuzzle her mate. She began to inspect the various cuts and gashes that marked his face and shoulders. "Did you get beat up?"

"Just a few claw marks," Valar muttered, licking his mate. "Compared to what Krek and my siblings endured, they're nothing." Then he glanced down at his daughter. "What's this about being gone for ten years? I must have been gone longer than I thought."

"Everything is ten years to her lately," Aylyryn explained. She pressed her nose against her mate's, concern oozing from her voice. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Ayly watched her parents a moment. Once the two older dragon began nuzzle and purr and lick and kiss and other things Ayly didn't care about, she seized her opportunity to play one of her favorite games. While her parents were distracted, Ayly slunk away from them. Soon she crept around behind the gryphon to hide. Ayly giggled to herself as she stretched out on her belly alongside her black feathered bed. As if sensing her urge to hide, Krek opened his wing a little and draped it across her back. Soon the only thing that revealed her presence was the continual giggles drifting out from beneath black feathers.

"They'll never find me here, Lellumgurb," Ayly whispered into the gryphon's wing.

Ayly waited patiently for her father to decide he needed to find his wonderful daughter. Her patience lasted and lasted and lasted for at least ten years. Or ten seconds. Then she was fed up with waiting. "Father!" She called out from under Krek's wing. "I'm hiding!"

Valar pulled his muzzle away from Aylyryn's and lowered his paw from her neck. He glanced over at Krek, grinning. "Indeed you are my love. But when you talk in your hiding place, people can follow the sound of your voice."

"EEP!" Ayly giggled, nuzzling up against Krek's side. She whispered to the gryphon again. "You're not so soggy now, Lellumgurb."

"That's good," Krek replied, lifting his wing a little. Shining silver eyes peered back at him. He grinned at her. "You wouldn't want your bed to be soggy."

Ayly giggled, shaking her head. "No soggy beds."

Krek lowered his wing again when Valar approached them. The gryphon smiled up at his friend. "Wherever she is, she isn't hiding under my wing."

Another round of hatchling giggles and the purple-tipped tail sticking out from beneath Krek's black-feathered wing put the truth to that friendly lie. Valar laughed to himself, nuzzling his friend a moment. "I'll be sure to look elsewhere, then. How are you feeling?" He quickly held up a paw. "In hatchling appropriate terms."

"Quite unpleasant," Krek said, squawking a little. "But alive, and able to fly. Things could be worse."

"You need to rest now," Valar said, flaring up his spines for emphasis. "At least a few days."

"I haven't the time, Valar," Krek said softly, lowering his head.

"He needs a healer to get him fresh bandages, and look at those stitches," Aylyryn said, cutting off any argument about how long Krek was going to stay before it got started. They could argue about that in the morning. "And I'm sure he'd like some herbs to help ease his pain."

Ayly huffed under the gryphon's wing. Why were they talking about boring things? They were supposed to be looking for their mischievous daughter. She thumped her tail, then nudged Krek with her muzzle. "Tell them I'm still hiding!"

Despite the fact everyone could hear her, Krek made the announcement. "Her Majesty Princess Ayly would like you to know she's still in hiding."

"And her father, King Valar, would like the young princess to know her tail is sticking out from under a gryphon's wing." Valar grinned to himself.

Ayly blinked inside her hiding place. She turned her head around under the wing to see if her father was telling the truth, or trying to trick her. Uh oh. Her tail really was sticking out! She'd better pull it in nice and slow before someone noticed. Careful as could be, Ayly began to pull her tail in under Krek's wing. Just when she sure she was in the clear, she realized her father must have spotted her tail to make that claim. And if her father spotted her tail, did that mean he knew where she was hiding? She'd better throw him off the trail.

"It's just my tail!" Ayly announced from under the wing. "The rest of me is hiding somewhere else!" Yes, that ought to show-"AAAH!" Ayly gave a startled yelp when her father stuck his paw under Krek's wing and grabbed her by the tail. She wriggled, squirmed, and giggled. "Leggo my tail!"

"If this is just your tail, then why do I hear the rest of you giggling about it?" Valar gave her purple splotched tail a little tug till her silver-speckled haunches were sticking out from under Krek's wing feathers. "And who's haunches are these?"

Uh oh. Busted. Time to retaliate. Ayly twisted herself round as if attacking her own tail. She grasped at her father's indigo front paw, tiny hatchling claws scrabbling at pebbly scales. "I'mma get you Father!"

"Yes, you're quite the ferocious little thing, aren't you my little Ayly." Valar lifted up his front paw, and Ayly gave a startled squeak. She wrapped her forelegs around her father's and dangled from it. She kicked her hind legs in the air as though pedaling some sort of dragon bicycle. "Now what are you going to do, hmm?"

"Momma, help!" Ayly called out, causing her mother to burst out laughing.

"Oh no," Aylyryn said. "You've gotten yourself into that mess, you can get yourself out of it."

"Lellumgurb, help!" Ayly squealed, kicking her legs again. The allegiances of a hatchling quickly shifted.

"Oh, very well," Krek muttered, pushing himself to his paws. He turned around, grinning at the sight of the tiny black, blue and purple dragon hanging from her father's paw. She kicked her back legs and beat her purple ribboned wings at the air as though she were suspended over some grand chasm rather than mere inches above the floor. Krek made a show of clearing his throat with a loud growl. In a monotone voice, he said, "Unhand that hatchling at once, you cur."

"As you wish," Valar said, smirking. "Lellumgurb."

"Oh, don't you start with that as well," Krek said, flaring his silvery crown feathers in irritation.

Rather than set Ayly down, Valar simply passed her over to Krek where she was quick to cling to the gryphon for purchase. Ayly scrambled up Krek's back and perched herself on the gryphon's shoulder. Her youthful anger and fear were immediately replaced with hatchling cheerfulness. She giggled into Krek's ear, and then gave him a lick.

"Hi, Lellumgurb."

"Hello, Ayly," Krek chuckled, tilting his head to nuzzle at her.

"Why on earth is she calling you that?" Valar settled down onto his haunches in front of his friend, leaning against his mate. Aylyryn licked his neck and nuzzled Valar's throat.

"Because she's insane," Krek snorted.

"What's insane?" Ayly asked, sprawling out against the gryphon's back and shoulder as Krek eased himself down onto his belly again.

Aylyryn nipped at Valar's frilled ear, grinning when he twitched it. "I think her calling him that is just like those stories you used to tell. About Amaleen."

Valar laughed to himself, grinning at his mate. He licked her nose. "Ah, right. Of course."

"Someone explain to the sexy gryphon what you're on about."

"What's sexy?" Ayly asked, her muzzle half buried in the feathers around Krek's neck. Now that they were dry, they were nice and soft. Ayly liked soft things. Ayly liked her giffid bed. "You're soft, Giffid."

Much to Ayly's boundless hatchling exasperation, the adults chose to ignore her questions in favor of answering her bed. Valar grinned at Krek. "You know about Amaleen, right?"

"Of course," Krek said, nodding, ruffling his feathers against Ayly.

"When I was a hatchling, I always called her Argleblarp."

Krek blinked, and then blinked again. He tilted his head the other way when Ayly worked herself around to sprawl out over his other shoulder. "Valar, I shouldn't have to ask you why you'd call her such a thing. You should simply know I cannot possibly fathom the reason."

"Because it drove her mad," Valar said, a sly grin spreading over his muzzle.

It took Krek a moment to realize the connection. Then he twisted his birdlike head around, peering at Ayly. "Ah. Of course. So that's another of your old habits she's picked up, hmm? First she claims me, then she makes me her bed, and now she's calling me silly names just to ruffle my wings the wrong way."

Ayly giggled to herself. She rose back to her paws, stretching up over Krek's neck to try and gnaw at his ears. Krek flicked it around a few times, and finally she got her sharp little teeth into the tip of it. Krek squawked in alarm, ducking his head. Ayly yelped in surprise and slumped back down onto his shoulder, catching herself with her claws.

"Squawky bird!" She giggled at him.

"No biting the ears, Ayly." Krek said, lifting a paw to rub his ear. "Those are very sensitive."

"Ayly," Valar said, making sure Ayly would take the request seriously. "No biting Krek's ears."

Ayly stared at her father a moment. She slowly opened her mouth and stretched her neck towards Krek's ear again.

"No!" Valar bared his fangs, and gave a little growl. "No biting Krek's ears, or you don't get to play tomorrow."

Ayly gasped. That was possibly the worst punishment imaginable. A whole day without play? She quickly jerked her head back, trying to scrunch her neck down into her shoulders. With a huff, she flopped herself back against Krek's shoulder. Krek chuckled, and Ayly casually reached out and ran her little paw through the soft pin feathers of his neck.

"Lellumgurb, play with me tomorrow."

"Alright, Ayly," Krek said softly, glancing down.

Ayly watched her father and mother for a little while. Aylyryn nudged Valar with her nose. "Krek was telling me about the fight. Your mother was...not easily swayed, it seems."

"She never was," Valar said softly. "But she...this is..." Valar seemed to have trouble finding the right words. Ayly understood that, she had to play hide and seek with her words sometimes too. When he finally found the right words, her father's voice was soft. Usually when he spoke that way he was telling Ayly stories from when he was a hatchling. Not that she believed he'd ever been as young as her. This time though, he sounded sadder. "She's always been stubborn, at least as stubborn as the old bastard. But this is different. This is what she believes must be done. She doesn't just believe it, it's consuming her. It's practically her reason for living, I think. To try and make things right the only way she knows."

"With blood," Aylyrn said, sighing.

"With blood," Ayly's father repeated. "All those years trying to fly a different wind than my father, and it's all come back to blood."

"For her," Aylyryn said, nosing Valar. "Not for you."

Valar looked away, sighing.

"I like blood," Ayly announced, wanting to join the discussion. Then she scrunched her muzzle. "When it's prey blood. I don't like my blood. It hurts when it comes out."

Krek chuckled a little, nuzzling the hatchling. Her parents glanced at her, gave her smiles that even Ayly thought looked hollow, and then returned their gazes to each other. Aylyryn put her paw atop Valar's and gently squeezed it. "It doesn't have to lead to blood for you, Valar. Just...stay out of it."

"That's just what she said," Valar murmured, laying his head against his mate's neck. "And you know as well as I that I cannot because Krek will not."

Aylyryn's face twisted up as though she was in pain. Ayly wondered if she had a belly ache. "Krek does not have a daughter to leave behind."

Krek swallowed so hard that Ayly felt his body move. She looked up at the gryphon, and grasped a pawful of his pinfeathers. She wondered why he was being so quiet. She might not have known the gryphon for long but even Ayly knew Krek rarely kept his beak shut. Maybe her giffid bed was getting sleepy too. She looked up at the gryphon a while, saw him blinking a few times. His eyes looked wet.

"That isn't fair, Aylyryn," Valar murmured, closing his eyes.

"Nor would it be fair to her if anything happened to you," Aylyryn said gently, stroking Valar's neck. "You know what that life is like, Valar. You curse his name to this day, despite the love I still see in your eyes for him. Even now, you cannot decide if you miss him or hate him. Do you want Ayly to grow up feeling the same way? Feeling as though her father abandoned her to pursue some..."

"This is different," Valar hissed suddenly, lifting his head from his mate. "This is so different."

"How?" Aylyryn said, her voice a rising challenge.

Ayly whimpered. Her parents rarely got angry with each other, but it always made her sad when it happened. "Don't be mad," she whined, reaching towards them from Krek's shoulder with a paw as if trying to wipe away their anger with her pads.

Both the dragons looked at Ayly, their muzzles and faces twisting a little. "We're not mad, Ayly," Valar said gently.

"We're just...worried about each other," Aylyryn said.

"Why?" Ayly asked, sniffling. Her belly twisted and suddenly all those snacks she had a little earlier didn't feel so good inside her.

"Because good people are going to be hurt if we do nothing," Valar murmured. "And if we try to help them, then we might be the ones who get hurt."

"You can let this go, Valar," Aylyryn insisted, pressing her nose against her mate's. "You and I decided many years ago that we wanted nothing to do with your mother's war." She held her paw out towards Krek, her paw pads up. "He can find the Queen, and take her somewhere safe. Hide her. You don't need to protect him."

"Kathlyn won't let him do that," Valar said, his voice growing softer by the moment. "And I...I can't..." Valar's voice broke for a moment, and Ayly whimpered. Was father going to cry? She didn't like it when Father cried. It made her cry, too. Her jaw started to tremble a little as her father went on. "I cannot let my mother harm my friend. And perhaps more importantly, Aylyryn...I have realized that I cannot let my mother harm the Queen. Whatever it takes, I have to try and stop her."

"But why, Valar!" Ayly's mother sounded both furious and terrified. Ayly had never heard such a combination before.

"Because no one else will protect her," Valar whispered. "My mother once spoke those same words to me about Sigil Stones, when I was no older than Ayly. I remember them to this day, though I fear my mother has long since forgotten their meaning. They fought...my mother, and my father, they fought for Sigil Stones because no one else would. Because those people lacked the strength to protect themselves, and so my family shared their strength with all those who needed it. Kathlyn, and her men, lack the strength to protect themselves from my mother. And so I must share my strength with her."

"They lost that war, Valar," Aylyryn murmured, lowering her head to rest upon Valar's paws.

"They did," Valar whispered, licking her ears. Ayly saw a few tears running from both her mother and her father's eyes. Soon Ayly was crying a little too. "But that makes it no less the right thing to do." Valar's voice trembled, and he lay his head against Aylyryn's neck. "My father told me...once. In a letter. He told me there was...nothing he was more ashamed of than...than the fact he was about to abandon me. All for revenge. He told me...he told me to fly a different wind...to walk a different path. But he also told me that after myself, his proudest moment was the day he decided to fight for Sigil Stones. Simply because it was the right thing to do."

Valar eased away from Aylyryn to retrieve his crying hatchling. He plucked her from Krek's back, and curled against his mate with Ayly between them. He licked her a few times, then gestured towards Krek. "This...protecting Krek, protecting Kathlyn. Protecting the woman who simply wants to give Aran'alia a real chance at peace? Aylyryn...this...this is the right thing to do."

"I have one more trick hidden beneath my wings," Krek murmured softly. "One more option to consider."

Valar gave a bittersweet chuckle. He licked his hatchling. Ayly was still crying a little, trying to snuggle against both her mother and father at the same time, hopefully without splitting herself in half. That didn't seem pleasant. Her father stared at the gryphon. "By all means, Krek, enlighten me."

"We might still be able to talk her out of this madness."

"I think we have proven that idea is destined to fail."

"For us, yes. For another...she might yet be willing to listen."

"Krek, who are..." Valar trailed off. Ayly squeaked when his grip suddenly tightened around her. "No."

"I have to return to Illandra as soon as possible," Krek said, laying his head down against a pillow. "After your healer attends me in the morning. Kathlyn will likely have already left, but her convoy travels slowly. Even wounded, I should be able to get my armor from Illandra and then catch up with her."

Krek closed his eyes, and silence settled on the room for a few moments. "Before I leave, I am going to visit your father. If anyone can talk Kylaryn out of her madness, it is him."

"It may be too late for a message from my father to change her mind, Krek."

Krek kept his eyes closed. He could not bring himself to meet Valar's golden gaze. "His Warden has a ghost stone, the purest I have ever seen. And she has the blood. It is not a message I plan to bring your mother. It is Valyrym himself."

---

Chapter Fourteen

---

Kylaryn flew. For hours she soared beneath the cold, uncaring skies, grasping for answers. It was like trying to snatch clouds in her claws. No sooner did she think she might have finally settled her mind than the answers simply dissipated into ephemeral wisps of confusion. If Valar came to stand between the Queen and victory for Aran'alia, could Kylaryn shed the blood of her first hatched son?

Kylaryn simply did not know.

As she spiraled above the jagged peaks well beyond the City of Stairs, she took a deep breath. The air at such heights was icy even in the summer. Snow capped the tops of the many stone sentinels stretched out around her. When her chest plates could expand no further, when her lungs burned from the chill of the air, she threw her head back and roared to the skies.

The skies, as always, did not care.

The roar echoed, rolling across the mountains in waves of furious sound. Echo by echo it faded a little more until it sunk into silence. In the distance, there was an answering roar, followed by echoes of its own. Another trumpeting call soon rose to skies, and another. Her family, and her growing clan knew her anger, knew her pain. They could not ease it, but they could help her bear her burden.

Kylaryn dipped a wing and lazily pivoted in the sky. In the distance she saw her citadel nestled amongst the mountains. She knew her love was there, awaiting her return. One of those roars had been his own. She also knew her children were there, recovering from their injuries. The thought of their pain made her muzzle twist in dismay. She blamed herself for the pain Voskyr and Kylyra suffered. She should have called her children off, and pursued the bird herself. Yet she feared what it would do to her to have to harm Krek. Worse, she dreaded what it would do to Valar.

It was Valar who'd caused Kylaryn to hesitate. The fear she heard in his voice when his friend was in danger had cut her to the core. All the strength she had built over the years fled from her in that instant, and once more she was just the conflicted, uncertain youth who could not even tell Valyrym that she loved him.

In those moments, all she heard where Valar's screams. The terror in his voice and the strength and determination in him to protect his friend. Kylaryn could not be more proud of the dragon Valar had become. By the time she got outside, Krek had already sent Kylyra crashing into the ground. Even then she hesitated to chase the bird herself, choosing instead to stay with her injured daughter. Voskyr took it upon himself to do what his mother could not.

Her hesitation led to her children's injuries. Kylaryn snarled at the thin clouds drifting just above her. Why hadn't she joined them in battle before either of them were hurt. By the time healers were called for Voskyr, she had no desire to track down the gryphon and her son. Her children's wellbeing was far more important. So she let Krek go. She should have just called them off.

Still, she did not think it would matter in the long run. If the gryphon should stand in Kylaryn's way once more, there would be no more hesitation. Kylaryn would kill the bird if she must, no matter what. Krek's death would be just one more scar on the hardened heart beating deep in her blue chest.

But if Valar was there...

Gods, she missed him. To think that he would never want to see her again. Beneath the layers of scars and anger she had armored herself with over the years, Valar had a claw in her heart he could never withdraw. He did not mean to twist it, yet twist it he did. Still. If victory and freedom for Aran'alia demanded that Krek die, and Valar bear witness, then the deed must be done. She could not let her desire to mend things with her son blind her to the reality that they were finally about to accomplish their decades long goal.

Kylaryn wondered for a moment if Valar would kill her in his own anger. Valar had inherited far more from his father than he'd ever admit. But from time to time, Kylaryn saw it in his eyes. The nearly uncontrollable emotion, the need to protect or avenge. Valar was far better at holding it in than Valyrym ever was, but it was still buried inside him.

Krek's death would be a wound that may never heal. Kylaryn wondered if Valar would follow Blood For Blood if she had to kill the gryphon. Kylaryn swallowed hard, considering that. Would she even unsheath her claws to defend herself? Or would she let her son strike her down to avenge the greatest friend he'd ever had?

Kylaryn knew what the gryphon meant to Valar. Beyond his family, Valar had few real friends growing up until he met Krek. Though they began as enemies, the bond her son soon forged with the gryphon was as strong a connection as she'd ever seen. They were inseparable for years she dared not count, and they shared a common affliction. Both deserved a better father. Valar grew up thinking his father was dead, and Krek grew up wishing his father was. Their shared troubles helped them make a connection in their angry, youthful days. Now Kylaryn might have to sever that bond forever.

When this was all over, Kylaryn would let her son do what he felt was right.

Even if it meant her death.

Aran'alia would go on without her. Death In The Night would go on without her. Plans were in motion. When the Queen was slain, Kylaryn was confident the machinery she had put in place would continue to run even beyond her own death. True, they would be better served with Kylaryn there to fight for them. But if worst came to worst, there were other dragons and other leaders to take her place now.

Perhaps that would be best. If Valar chose to slay her, she might not resist him. Yet, if he fought her to protect Krek, to protect the Queen of Illandra, she would have no choice but fight back. She could strike Krek down if she had to, but Valar...The thought of fighting Valar terrified her. She did not think she could bear to hurt Valar even a little. How far would she have to go to stop him?

How much of her son's blood was she willing to shed for Aran'alia's victory?

That was the question she could not answer no matter how long she flew. Where flight often brought clarity, lately it only brought confusion. She could consider the question for years and never answer it truthfully. It was a question she could only answer when she stood face to face with her son, and saw him ready to defend her enemies.

Kylaryn knew in her heart that day was coming. She had best harden herself for it.

Finding no answers in the skies Kylaryn began to wing her way back home. She had other uncertainties growing in her mind, gnawing at her belly like a hunger she could not fill. What if Krek was right? What if in her heart, Kathlyn truly did want peace? If that was what this journey was actually about, then would Kylaryn's plans only make things worse?

Kylaryn scowled, flaring her blue spines. No. She could not allow herself to think that way. Queen Kathlyn sat atop a throne built of bone and blood, a throne from which she ruled a kingdom built upon tyranny and conquest. Even if she'd had a change of heart, offering some small peace and minor freedoms to the countries she'd long oppressed was too little, too late. Besides, if she truly wished them to be free, why not make it happen immediately? She was the Queen. With but a stroke of her pen, she could declare the provinces released from Illandra.

Surely, the Queen would say it was not that easy. That she had to take these things slowly if she wanted to ward off rebellion among her people. That they had to be given time to learn to rule themselves. Kylaryn knew better. Kylaryn suspected the Queen's true goal was to offer them some measure of freedom, in return for some kind of military alliance. Some increase in trades. To let them call themselves free even as their people were pledged to Illandra's army and their resources to Illandra's coffers.

That was not freedom. That was oppression. It was no different than the status quo, aside from the fact it might be easier for Aran'alians to swallow. It would allow Kathlyn to sleep better at night if she could convince herself she'd somehow set people free.

Perhaps the woman was an idealist. She could talk and talk about freedom and ideals and how things had to be taken slowly and carefully. Yet she'd had decades as Queen to slowly set Aran'alia free, and had made no progress. She had plenty of chances to do the right thing, and yet she had not done so. For all her ideals, there had been only talk and no action.

Kylaryn was a realist. There was only one way for Aran'alia to be free, and that was through victory. Humans talked, and dragons acted. Kylaryn was going to act.

Yet why did her determination leave her feeling so ill at ease lately? Her stomach lurched and twisted and flopped about as she flew. The dragon knew her writhing belly had nothing to do with the icy winds that buffeted her. For all the wind's attempts to throw her off course, her flight was as steady as the determined beating of her own heart.

The wind no longer carried her. She carried herself on her own wings. And she carried her family. She carried Death In The Night. And she carried her growing clan. They were all relying upon her to finish what she had started. To send Illandra toppling down the chasm of defeat. To bury them beneath the Aran'alian landslide. To secure a home forever for Aran'alians. To carve out a homeland for her new clan.

A homeland for dragons.

When this was over, they would have a place to call their own where they would never be hunted again. Their clans would never again be shattered. Families would never be broken. They would not have to watch their parents be slaughtered. They would not spend half their lives searching for a lost brother they could never find. They would have a home, safe and protected. And Illandra would never again be able to ruin families.

It was so nearly in her grasp she could feel it tingling against her paw pads.

The thought finally brought a smile to her dark blue muzzle. She folded her wings a little, descending towards her home. The square cut citadels and towers loomed ahead of her, contrasting sharply against the jagged mountains they were carved from. The granite peeks rose all around the fortress like stony serrated knives. Steam rose from the hot spring and hung in the cool air like a gauzy blanket draped across the courtyard. As Kylaryn swept in over her home the fog rippled and swirled beneath her, tiny vortices rolling beyond the tips of her wings.

Kylaryn touched down on her hind paws near one of the ancient trees that stood at the corner of the spring. Kylaryn liked those trees. They were some type of elder pine with bushy patches of emerald needles sprouting here and there from misshapen boughs. Their frames were bent and twisted, yet never broken by the centuries of icy, swirling winds and servitude to the anchoring ropes and chains that once held a canopy in place. No matter how much abuse the trees endured, no matter how twisted they became, they yet stood. The harder their lives grew, the stronger they became. The winds could no longer shape them, and pain could not break them. It only brought them strength.

Kylaryn liked the trees because they reminded her of herself.

"Staring at the trees again, Mother?" Kylyra called out from the spring, a note of teasing amusement in her voice.

Kylaryn snorted, turning away from the tree to look down into the spring. Both her injured children were lounging about in the hot waters. That was good. She'd told them to relax and recuperate, and the hot water would help them heal. It would also help them stay comfortable. Voskyr's wounds were the worst, particularly his ribs. He'd broken a few of them, but they would heal well enough. Kylyra had mostly bumps and bruises, but she may have torn a few muscles when Krek bore her down into the ground as well. Both dragons had plenty of cuts and gashes slowly healing into pink scars.

"I like the trees," Kylaryn murmured. "Those trees, at least."

"Yes, we've heard," Voskyr murmured. He lay mostly submerged in the hot water with just his bronze head above the surface, his blue speckled chin resting on the stone ledge that surrounded the pool. "They remind you of yourself. No matter how badly the wind tries to toss you about, you tell it to get mounted."

Kylaryn gave a throaty laugh. She liked the way her youngest son put things. "Yes. That." She padded to the edge of the spring, and lowered her head to gently lick Voskyr's nose. "How are you feeling?"

"Like my brother broke my ribs," Voskyr muttered under his breath, closing his eyes as his mother licked him.

Kylyra lifted her head, stretching her neck above the water. Beads and droplets of it ran down her pebbly blue scales as she smirked at her brother. "Don't you mean half-brother?"

"Oh, shut up," Voskyr said, grumbling a little.

"You're the one who always makes the distinction, not me."

"Funny," Voskyr said, turning his head to glare at his sister a moment. "You're quick to chastise me for calling him my half brother, yet you're even quicker to claim you do not share his father."

Kylyra growled at him, baring her fangs. "That is because Valyrym..."

"Is your father." Kylaryn snapped, putting an end to her children's argument. Then she gave a little sigh, staring off into the curtains of steamy haze. "Voskalar is also your father, and he loves you very much. But Valyrym..." Her heart trembled in her chest, fluttering like a drunken moth flitting about a light. Even all these years later, Valyrym was a breath of ice frozen in her lungs. Valyrym was a wound that would never quite heal. Valyrym was a claw in her heart. "...Valyrym would have loved you with every drop of blood in his body. You should not disparage him so."

Kylyra shifted herself, laying her muzzle against her younger brother's head. He huffed a bit but did not pull away. "As you wish, Mother."

Kylaryn lifted a paw to gently stroke her daughter's head, running her pads over an ear. "How are you feeling today?"

"Not as bad as my pillow here, I am sure," Kylyra said, laughing. Her laughter shook her muzzle against Voskyr's head. The younger male gave a playful growl, and she nipped at his spines. "Achy, sore. But healing. Voskyr was still having a little trouble breathing this morning so I made him get in the pool here in the hopes the heat would relax him."

"And is it working?" Kylaryn turned her head down a little, her silvery eyes burning. She didn't like it when Voskyr withheld things about his health from her.

"Mostly," Voskyr admitted. "My breathing is not as labored as it was."

"Good." Kylaryn gave both her son and her daughter a few soothing licks. "Stay in there a while longer, then."

"But my pads are getting wrinkled."

"I should think you'd be more worried about the water causing your balls to retract," Kylyra giggled at her brother.

"That is cold water that does that, sister," Voskyr said, snorting.

Kylaryn laughed and shook her head, looking around the otherwise empty courtyard. "Where is Voskalar?"

"Inside, I think. He was going to come join us, but he went inside. By the time he shows up Voskyr here is going to be as wrinkled up as an elderly human."

Kylaryn peered down at her children a moment, slowly lifting her spines. "I'm going to go see if I can find him. You two stay in there a little while longer. When you do get out, take it easy. No roughhousing till you're healed."

"But mother," Kylyra said with a playfully plaintive whine. "I can't wait that long to beat up my little brother again!"

"You haven't been able to beat me up since Valar lived with us," Voskyr said, snorting.

"I beat you up three weeks ago!"

"Hitting me in the balls by surprise does not count as beating me up!"

"Does too!"

"Does not," Voskyr said, jerking his head out from under his sister. He hissed at her, grinning, flaring up his crests. "Neither does squeezing them when we wrestle!"

Kylaryn laughed a little. "Actually, I think that one does count."

"He sure howls like it counts," Kylyra said, smirking as she slunk away from her brother in the hot water.

Kylaryn smiled down at her children as they playfully bickered. For a moment, an image of her own little brother flickered in her mind. How old had he been when Illandra attacked their clan, slew their parents? Younger than Voskyr was now. She doubted he'd lived much past the time they were separated. She'd never found any sign of him. Eventually she'd come to accept what that meant. He must have been killed in the assault or shortly after, then butchered and taken away in pieces. She sniffed and shivered, her scales clicking together.

"Consider yourselves lucky you still have each other," Kylaryn said softly. "Play nicely while you're injured, hmm?"

"Play," Kylyra said, grinning at her brother. "As if we are both children! Instead of just Voskyr."

Kylaryn laughed to herself, and padded off towards the fortress entrance. She had a feeling she knew where Voskalar was. From the mountaintop courtyard, Kylaryn made her way to the grand, intricately carved double doors at the back of the primary keep. The doors, like much of the decorations, were new. Kylaryn had commissioned them herself. They were cut from dark ebony. Carved across their surface were images of dragons sheltering humans and hatchlings alike beneath their wings. The doors depicted an ideal that Kylaryn long since came to believe in. That dragons could be creatures of fierce nobility, and that they could be friends of humanity if humanity would simply allow it.

Here, in the City of Stairs, that ideal had come to life.

Once inside, Kylaryn padded down a stone hall lit with flickering lamps hanging from iron hooks in half hidden alcoves. Where there were no lamps yet, a few torches had been lit and settled into temporary sconces. After all the place was still being refurbished. Windows cut in the stone and freshly paned with leaded glass allowed more light to shine in during the day. The halls here were all wide, the ceiling arched and sometimes vaunted with elegant, fan-like stone work. The doorways were equally tall and wide, more than accommodating for a dragon. Though Kylaryn had no way to be sure, she believed this place was constructed by dragons.

Kylaryn was happy that her kind once more occupied it.

Kylaryn made her way down a wide granite staircase. The edges of each stair had long since worn smooth though ancient scratches and claw marks still gouged them here and there. At the bottom of the stairs she passed a few humans from town helping to work on the fortress's reconstruction. Further along she saw few heavily armored members of Death In The Night serving as guards.

She smiled and bowed her horned head to every human she passed. She knew most of them by name, and called them as such, asked them how they were. These were her people now. These were the people who fought for her. These were the people she fought for. They were all her friends and she wanted them all to know that.

Kylaryn found Voskalar exactly where she expected him. Her mate sat in the room they had set up for Valar years ago, in case he ever came to visit with his family. The soft things they'd carefully piled for his bed had never once been slept upon. Kylaryn had collected just about every colorful blanket and quilt she could in case her eldest son ever came to visit. She knew he'd always loved blankets ever since he was a hatchling.

Somehow even the blankets seemed lonely to Kylaryn without someone to sleep on them.

The door to the room was slightly ajar, and Kylaryn gently pushed it open with her paw. Her mate was settled on his haunches, in the center of the room. The room was still fairly well lit though it was growing dimmer as the late afternoon sun settled behind the nearby mountains. The illumination saturating the room was already fading from gold to purple-hued twilight.

Voskalar stared at the banner of Valar that hung near the window. The banner had been made for them in Sigil Stones, not long before they had to flee. Valar was just into the early stages of draconic adolescence then. His body was beginning to fill out, his blue colors expanding and deepening. But his limbs were looking a little gangly, stretching just a bit too far for the size of his body. His tail spines were only beginning to emerge. In the image he was smirking, as though he'd just realized that he was going to be a very handsome dragon someday, and it was about time he start feeling smug about it.

Kylaryn quietly padded into the room, and settled down alongside Voskalar. He turned his head and gently nuzzled at her neck, stroking her scales with the tip of his nose. Then he licked her a few times, purring softly to his love. Kylaryn returned the affection, licking at his ears and spines. Then she lay her head against his shoulder, and closed her eyes.

For a little while, she just listened to her mate breathing. "Do you think I am wrong, Voskalar? To put him through this?"

"He was never meant to be involved," Voskalar said softly.

"No. He was not. I wanted him to stay in Denoria, in his peaceful home, with his family. But the bird..."

Voskalar chuckled to himself. "Probably loves him almost as much as he loves his human woman."

Kylaryn took a deep breath, and let it out in a long sigh. She sagged lightly against her mate, her wings drooping. "We should have known. Of all the things I did not predict...it was the bird dragging Valar into this."

"We cannot predict the wind, Kylaryn, or the direction it will carry us." He smiled a little bit, licking her nose. "Even you cannot predict the way it will carry others."

Kylaryn closed her eyes, wishing she could bury herself beneath Voskalar's wings for the rest of the days. "When I was young, my father told me we measure our lives by how high we climb, and how far we fall. When I broke my wing, he said I had fallen as far as I could, and soon I would fly higher than ever." Kylaryn sniffed a little, licking at Voskalar's neck. "And Valyrym...Valyrym told me it was not about how far we dared to dive, but when we spread our wings. He said the only difference between diving and falling is if we leave ourselves time to recover." Sorrow added gravely weight to her voice. "Lately I feel like I have folded my wings, and tumbled from the sky. I fear I have fallen too far, and I can never recover before I am dashed against the earth."

Kylaryn slowly lifted her head from the other dragon's neck, staring up at the banner of her son. "I have hurt Valar so much." Her voice trembled, and she fought to marshal her strength. "I have done so wrong by him, pushed him from my life when I only sought to protect him. Now I seek to stop Illandra's evil...and I fear I cannot do so without ripping Valar's heart from his chest. When Krek stands in my way..." She trailed off, staring down at her own blue paws. Tiny scars marked them. "Do you...Do you think I'm wrong, Vos?"

Voskalar took a deep breath, and let it out as slowly as he could. He pressed his nose to Kylaryn's throat, nuzzling her gently. "No, my love. If I thought you were wrong I would not have followed you this far. But..." He hesitated a little, tail tip flicking. "Perhaps the Queen and Krek need not die. If they could be taken alive, would it not achieve your goals just the same?"

"It may," Kylaryn admitted, leaning against Voskalar. "Yet I fear that is easier said than done. Either way, I think Valar is through with me."

"Then what is done, is done," Voskalar said, licking her ear gently. He coiled his tail around her own, squeezing it. "And if it cannot be changed, you cannot let it stop you from what you have dedicated your life to."

"So..." Kylaryn twisted her own tail back around his. She set her fore paw against his own. "You believe in this, too. You believe that this is the best way to free Aran'alia, and protect its people for all time."

Voskalar was quiet for a little while. Even in the dim light of the room, his eyes shone like copper coins polished with love, and determination. "I believe in you, Kylaryn."

Warmth blossomed in Kylaryn's chest. The sunshine of a warm smile slowly banished the gloomy clouds spread over her indigo muzzle. She licked at Voskalar's ear, happily pushing herself against him. "Thank you, Voskalar. You have always been there for me when I needed you most."

Voskalar gave a happy little laugh, playfully pushing her away. "Oh, hush. I have not. Maybe a time or two."

"No," Kylaryn murmured, burying her muzzle in Vos' neck. "Always."

Voskalar smiled, and flared out one of his bronze wings. He wrapped it around Kylaryn, encasing her in its warmth and protection. Voskalar purred, the rumbling sound reverberated through his body and into Kylaryn's, soothing her. She sheltered beneath his wing, scrunching herself down to better hide beneath it. Soon, little more than her blue scaled head was peeking out from beneath the male's earth-toned wing. While snuggling against her lover, Kylaryn slowly peered around the room they had set aside for Valar, her silver eyes shining.

The room was decorated with all the remnants of Valar's childhood Kylaryn still possessed. Shelves that lined a wall were covered with his old toys and books. Oldest among them was Oodle, the wooden dragon that someone in Sigil Stones had carved for him when he was a tiny hatchling. Oodle was an antique now, older even than the stuffed blue dragons Kylaryn gave out to her most trusted officers. Oodle had survived both the fire that took Amaleen's life and the ages that passed afterwards. If anyone played with it now its brittle wood would surely shatter yet and part of Kylaryn wished Valar would simply come and see it. Valar's favorite book from his hatchling days was proudly displayed upon the same shelf. It too had survived the fire that claimed the homes Amaleen and Valyrym once shared. How many times had Valyrym read that book to Valar? Somehow Kylaryn suspected both Valar and his father could recite that old hatchling tome by rote.

Toys that were newer in a relative sense lined another shelf. Squigg Junior and Rorgie Too sat prominently in the center. The original toys had been lost in the fire, and Kylaryn tried to get him replacements in the months that followed Valyrym's departure. She had the townsfolk sew up plush dragons that resembled the previous toys as closely as possible. A dark stuffed dragon for Squigg, and a bright red one for Rorgie. She had hoped Valar might not spot the differences but the youth knew immediately they were not the same.

Kylaryn closed her eyes. She could still hear Valar's voice in her mind.

"It's okay, Mother," Valar had said so softly. He'd put his paw on hers. "I know Squigg and Rorgie are gone. ...They burned up, like Amaleen. We should bury them, too."

"We gathered some ashes," Kylaryn murmured outloud. Vos nuzzled her, but did not ask what she was murmuring about. "And buried them by the old pond."

In the months after Valyrym left Valar had clung to those new toys as tightly as he clung to his favorite blanket. A little smile flickered across Kylaryn's lips when she remembered Valar telling her what their names were.

"And why is he Rorgie Two?" Kylaryn had asked. "Are there two of him?"

"No!" Valar had replied, giggling. "He's also Rorgie! Cause he's red and Rorgie is a good name for red dragons."

"Ah, I see," Kylaryn had said, nuzzling him. "And what about Squigg Junior? Why didn't you call him Squigg Too?"

"Cause he's not Squigg," Valar had said, his head hanging and his ears drooping. "He's Squigg's son. His father is gone, too."

Kylaryn suddenly buried her face against Voskalar's chest plates as she began to cry. Hot tears streaked down her blue muzzle and wet the bronze armor she sobbed into. She had cried that day, when Valar broke what was left of her heart, and now she cried again at the memory of it.

That day she had gone to cry in private. Valyrym's absence was slowly crushing her and yet she knew her son needed her. She did not want Valar to see her sobbing, and she did not want the youngling to think he was the cause of her pain. Kylaryn had taken her shattered heart to the hill she'd once shared with Valyrym, and cried into the green grass and the silver rain. She cursed the winds for carrying her on this path.

And then Voskalar was there.

Voskalar had landed alongside her, and without asking permission the way he usually did, he simply pulled her against his body. He folded his wings around her, sheltered her from the rain and the sky and the world beyond, and held her while she cried. He did not have to say a word and neither did she. When her tears had stopped, she lay against him for a while, silent yet thankful for his company. When she was ready, he flew back to town with her, and together they played with Valar to brighten his spirits.

Over the years that followed whenever her days were darkest, somehow Voskalar was there to rise with the sun and shine his light upon her. When she had no strength left to bear her many burdens Voskalar took them upon his wings and bore them for her. When she first knew she was with Kylyra's egg, Voskalar was there to help ease the fear. When her beautiful daughter hatched, Voskalar was there to help raise her and protect her. Voskalar grew and matured into a powerful, noble male, shedding blood and giving his own alongside the others as they fought Illandra.

Year by year Voskalar helped Kylaryn piece her shattered heart back together. The day she knew she had grown to love him was the same day she spoke those words aloud. The same day he spoke them in return. Valyrym would always be in her heart, he would always be the wound she could never quite close. But Voskalar was everything to her now, a love built by years of comfort and solace and battle and heartache and understanding. They raised her children together, and Voskalar had been a more loving father to both of them than Kylaryn ever could have hoped for. And when the time was right, when they made new life together, Voskyr's hatchling was as joyful a moment as she had ever experienced.

In her heart, Kylaryn knew why Krek would die for the Queen, because she understood that feeling all too well. She would die for Voskalar just the same. Somehow, Voskalar had built her back up from almost nothing. Before their love began she held herself together best she could, but her heart was a threadbare cloak. Day by day it was coming apart at the seams. By the time Voskyr's egg was growing inside her, she understood what Valyrym meant when he said Amaleen changed him into something better. She understood that because she had grown to know that Voskalar had made her something better, too.

Voskalar had made her face all her weaknesses and all her faults. When she knew she loved him she refused to let that love go unheralded the way it had with Valyrym. She came to realize she could not spend so much time searching for a brother who was surely dead. Not if her search came at the expense of those who were right in front of her, those who were still drawing breath. Those who loved her. Day by day and year by year Voskalar pieced Kylaryn back together until she was stronger than she had ever been. Until all the uncertainty and pain and fear that had ruled her for so long had been burned away by the righteous fires of love and determination.

Death In The Night praised her strength. They spoke of the steely silver fire in her eyes. They claimed that all the hardship she had endured over the years had made her stronger than any other dragon or creature they knew. Yet Kylaryn knew the truth of it. It was not the pain that had made her stronger. The pain had very nearly destroyed her the same way it had destroyed Valyrym.

It was Voskalar. Voskalar had sheltered her, supported her, loved her, made her a better person. It was Voskalar who helped her change into something great. Voskalar had helped Kylaryn grow into The Wind That Carries.

Only when she came to know Voskalar the same way Valyrym knew Amaleen, did Kylaryn truly understand what her death did to him.

"Do you even know how wonderful you are?" Kylaryn asked softly. A few tears still dribbled down her scales. She lifted her head to smile at Voskalar and lick his nose.

"I've been told I'm moderately wonderful," Voskalar said, grinning at her. "Are you alright? I know you were thinking about Valar..."

"I was," Kylaryn said, nuzzling him. "And yes, I'm fine, now." She gave a heavy sigh, her spines drooping as she leaned against her mate. "I have realized something, just now."

"And what's that?" Voskalar licked the back of her neck a few times. "If you're going to tell me I'm sexy, I'm not sure I'll believe it. But I may let you drag me out into the spring to prove it to me."

"Kylyra and Voskyr are still in the spring," Kylaryn murmured, smiling.

"Damn kids," Voskalar said, playfully huffing and lifting his spines. "Always spoiling my fun." He laughed to himself, squeezing Kylaryn's tail with his own. "What did you really just realize?"

"It's about Illandra," Kylaryn murmured, nibbling a few scales along Voskalar's neck.

"Oh?" Voskalar tilted his head, flicking his frilled ears. "Don't want to destroy it anymore?"

Kylaryn knew he was joking, but he was closer than he knew. "No. I don't."

Voskalar blinked, pulling his head back till his neck curled into an S. "What...? Ky, we've come awfully far to stop now..."

"We aren't stopping, Voskalar," Kylaryn said, turning her head away from her mate for a moment. She stared at the old blood-stained blanket hanging across from Valar's banner. Years of use had made the old quilt a little threadbare, and the black dragon upon it was faded as was the lettering. "We are just beginning. You and I have seen the silver rains spreading, Vos. The world itself seems to be changing, and we are going to be part of that change."

"What are you talking about?" Voskalar licked her ear, then glanced at the blanket again. He murmured the saying emblazed upon it to himself. "May The Dread Sky ever rise. I miss that bastard sometimes."

Kylaryn only smiled. Gods knew she loved Voskalar, but he could still be blissfully ignorant at times. "I am talking about change, Voskalar. Change for the better." She lifted her paw, and gestured at the blanket. "Amaleen changed Valyrym from a selfish beast into something so much better, something willing to fight for those he cared about. And you..." She pressed her paw to Vos' chest, stroking the plates protecting his heart. "You changed me into something strong, and loving, and determined. Your love changed me into a better person. You made me a leader. You pieced together my heart, Voskalar, and you rebuilt me into something great."

Voskalar flushed a little under his scales. His nose and the inside of his ears both took on a scarlet tint. "I don't know about all that but...what are you getting at?"

"When the Queen is ours," Kylaryn murmured, her eyes fixed on the faded, blood-stained image of Valyrym. "Dead or captured. When our hidden army rises and strikes the tyrants of Illandra in the heart, when they pull them from their bloody thrones. When Aran'alia lives free again, then it will be our time. Our duty. Not to tear Illandra asunder, Voskalar. Not to ruin their land. This is not vengeance, for we are better than that. You made me better than that."

"Then, what are we..."

"Amaleen changed Valyrym. You changed me. Together, we shall change Illandra. Aran'alian shall stretch her hand, and rebuild the shattered Illandra into something better. Something great. One grand realm for us to call home. A home for dragons, and all those who would call them friend. They will resist at first, because they will not understand. But in time, they will see that our way is the way of peace, and in a generation or so, their children will know us as friends. And we will have rebuilt Illandra into the land Aran'alia once was."

"A home for dragons, you say?" Voskalar chuckled to himself, laying his head against his mate. She always dreamed so grandly. "I like the sound of that."

Kylaryn smiled to herself, savoring the warmth and private shelter beneath Voskalar's wing. "Then we have only one task left to complete. Soon...soon we will strike."

---

Chapter Fifteen

---

Valyrym woke curled around Alia on the day of her banishment. They lay together atop Valyrym's pile of soft things, draped in blankets Alia had spread across the dragon before snuggling the dragon beneath them. Val Junior hid amidst the soft pile as though trying to cuddle with the two of them in secret. Valyrym slept well despite his anxieties over losing Alia for a while. His dreams had been pleasant, almost as comforting as Alia's warmth. By the time he opened his eyes, plenty of late morning sunlight streamed through his air vents. The room was already well illuminated even without lighting the two elegant, silver, bell-shaped lanterns Alia had added to his sleeping chamber.

Valyrym closed his golden eyes again, leaving his horned head atop the faded lilac pillow with golden tassels. No sense rising yet if Alia wasn't up.

"Mmm," Alia murmured, her bare back arching against the dragon's belly as she stretched, her hands balled into fists above her head. "Morning, love."

"Mrrggleflrrff." Valyrym muttered incomprehensibly against his pillow. So much for going back to sleep.

"Are you still drunk?" Alia giggled, twisting around just a little to caress the plates of the dragon's chest. He was sprawled upon his side, with his scaly underbelly pressed to Alia's back.

"No," the dragon said, shifting himself to wrap a paw around her middle. He stroked her belly a little with his paw pads. "But I suspect I will be soon."

"I hope you're not planning to get sloshed as soon as I leave," Alia said, moving her hand to rub the scutes of the dragon's foreleg. "I don't think Thomas would appreciate having to deal with a drunken dragon his first day as warden."

"Thomas can get mounted."

"You'd never fit," Alia giggled again, wriggling closer to the dragon's warmth.

"Not by me!" Valyrym hissed at the very idea. Then a smirk twisted over his muzzle. "By Korvarak. He'd enjoy it, and he's a runt, so he might not kill Thomas in the process."

"I'm sure Thomas would appreciate not being killed."

Valyrym idly ran his paw up and down Alia's body beneath the blankets. "He may feel otherwise when he finds out what an irritable old beast I'm going to be without you around."

"Now, now," Alia said, trying to sound stern. Yet any authority her voice possessed was negated by the way she wriggled and pressed herself into the dragon's grasp. "If I come back here in three months and find that you've been an absolute, unmanageable horror to my friends, my first official act upon being reinstated as Warden shall be to plant my boot in your testicles. Repeatedly."

Valyrym winched, scrunching up his muzzle. He pinned his ears back against his head. "I shall be sure to strap something soft and cushiony to myself as a protective device before you return, then."

"As long as it's not Val Junior!"

"Never!" Valyrym flared his spines, scoffing. Then he grinned. "I'll use Little Ky. About time she protect those parts of me instead of assault them."

Alia giggled, then yawned a little. She pushed herself up onto an elbow, the blanket falling partway off her nude form. "I should get up." Alia looked up at the skylights, messy black hair falling about her face. She squinted into the light, hooking hair behind her ears. "Judging by how light it is outside, I've got to be out of here in a few hours."

Valyrym growled, and thumped his spined tail against his bedding. "Must you?"

"Yes, Valyrym." Alia smiled at him, splaying her fingers out to stroke the back of his paw. His scales were fine and warm. "You know I must."

"Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"No, neither of us are required to like it." She turned a little to gaze down at the dragon's horned head resting against his pillow. "Only to accept it and move forward. Three months will not be that long."

"I suppose not," the dragon said with a snort. As Alia sat up a little straighter, Valyrym's golden gaze roamed her body. In the cool air outside the blankets, Alia's nipples had perked up as if attempting to highlight her breasts for the dragon. With a murmur, Valyrym lifted his paw and gently cupped one of them. Valyrym purred to himself at the soft, warm feel of the woman's breast beneath his paw, her nipple a little bud of firmness. "I don't suppose we have time..."

"Hey!" Alia laughed, shaking her head. Black hair swished about. She lifted her hands to cup the dragon's paw as his soft pad teased her sensitive flesh. "No, Valyrym, we really don't. What, you didn't get enough last night?"

The dragon laughed to himself, massaging Alia's breast in a lazy circle. "I think I'm still making up for lost time. Besides, you sleep naked. That puts ideas in my head."

"Oh, I know," Alia smirked at the dragon, giving him a throaty groan. "It's fun to tease someone you love. But I'm afraid today you shall have to make do with your paws. I've got to get cleaned up, get dressed, sign my documents, collect my coin and get out. I've also got to have breakfast before all that, which I hope you'll have with me."

"Of course."

"Good." Alia smiled at the dragon, then worked her fingers beneath his paw and gently pried it away from her chest. She stroked his pads a little bit, then lifted his paw to kiss the back of it. "Now quit teasing me before you melt my resolve."

"That was the idea," Valyrym said, chuckling.

Alia laughed, and wriggled her way free of the rest of the blankets. She stood naked before the dragon, stretching her arms over her head as she yawned. Though the dragon was happy to let his eyes wander the lightly bronzed skin of her body, he found her yawn contagious. Valyrym pushed himself up onto his haunches in the midst of his own gaping yawn.

"Your tongue looks so cute when you yawn," Alia giggled, stretching her back.

"Hmm?" Valyrym cocked his head, licking his nose.

"It's all cute and curled in your snout." Alia nudged her bare foot against the blankets in a few places, trying to determine where she'd left her clothing the night before. "Like an oversized cat."

"Mmm," the dragon murmured.

"Very talkative today, aren't you," Alia giggled.

"M'still sleepy," the dragon muttered. He curled his tail a little, cocking his head when Alia bent over to pick up the simple blue and white dress she'd worn the night before. The dragon reached out to trace a few pads over the curve of her bare rump. Alia wiggled herself against his paw. "And increasingly excited."

"You're always excited," Alia said, laughing as she straightened up. "For such a decrepit old thing you've still got a healthy sex drive. I guess that makes you the dragon equivalent of a dirty old man."

"Then what does that make you?" Valyrym snorted, tilting his head.

"That's a good question," Alia replied, slowly pulling the dress over her head. She tugged it down slowly, teasing the dragon with his last look at her bare flesh for the next few months. From inside the dress, she murmured. "I can't be a gold digger cause you haven't got any money."

"Yes, afraid I gave away all the gold in my collection ages ago." The dragon flared his spines a little bit. "Perhaps you simply have a dragon fetish."

"Perhaps I simply love the heart that's under all those scales," Alia murmured when she finished pulling her dress down. She fussed with her messy black hair a few moments before deciding not to bother with it till she'd had a quick bath. "Though I can't say I'm going to miss being insulted every five minutes or so."

"Liar," Valyrym said, grinning.

Alia smiled as she walked to the dragon. She pressed herself against his chest, wrapping her arms partway around him. She put her ear to his plates, listening to his heart thump deep inside him. She sighed as Valyrym lifted a forepaw to gently stroke her back. He lowered his head to nuzzle at her hair, then her face.

"I am going to miss you so much, Valyrym," Alia murmured against the dragon's scales.

"I know," the dragon said. He closed his eyes, and licked her cheek. "I shall not tell you how much I shall miss you, for I do not wish to worry you while you are away. I have no poetry to speak of our goodbyes, for...any such words would likely move me to tears, and I...shall keep those to myself this time, if I can."

Alia only smiled wider, and gently kissed the plates of Valyrym's chest. "I understand, Lovely Dragon."

For a few moments, the two of them simply embraced, savoring each other's comfort and warmth. Alia closed her eyes and let the dragon's heartbeat soothe her for a while. She wished she could stay with him here, forever. Still, she consoled herself with the fact that after her banishment was over, she'd never have to leave Valyrym again.

Alia already suspected the Queen already planned to free Valyrym when she returned. Alia and Kathlyn had met a few more times since the trial, both to shore things up and because Alia required Kathlyn's help for a few more surprises she had in mind for her dragon. From the way Kathlyn spoke, she already seemed to share Alia's belief that Valyrym had suffered enough.

"When you're free," Alia said, kissing the dragon's chest again. She traced her finger against the scales of his shoulder. "After we go and find your son, I would love to see the hills of Aran'alia. I want to dance in the silver rain."

"I would love nothing more, Alia," Valyrym replied, his own eyes still closed. He could almost see her in his head, whirling around with her arms outstretched atop some rain soaked hill. "It would be...romantic," the dragon said after a moment. It was not a word he used lightly, given that romance was even less common to dragons than love itself.

"Yes, it would," Alia agreed. She opened her eyes, sighing. A hint of something red at the bottom of her vision caught her eye, and she couldn't help giggling. "And this would be a lot more romantic right now if you didn't have half a boner sticking out of your sheath."

"Is that not what romance is about?" Valyrym pulled his head back, grinning.

Alia nudged the dragon's testicles with her bare foot. "Only to you males."

"That is not helping the situation, Alia." Valyrym shifted a little, swallowing hard, a light flush tinting his crests and nose.

"I suppose not." Alia sighed, and moved away from the dragon with a smirk. "Come on, then. I think I left my sandals by the tub. I'll go and get us some breakfast after I find them."

"Oh, very well," Valyrym muttered. He rose up to all fours, and padded after Alia as she made her way out of his sleeping chamber. "I think after you leave I am going to go back to bed."

"I think after I leave," Alia said, glancing back at him over her shoulder in a way that tossed her black hair around. "You're going to frantically stroke yourself off."

"I was going to do that while you get breakfast." Valyrym smirked as they walked towards the tub.

Alia laughed and found her sandals, pulling them on. "And here I thought you'd try and get me to watch."

"You keep babbling about the fact you haven't got the time for anything fun," Valyrym said, letting his spines sag against his head.

"I haven't," Alia said, grinning. She reached out and cupped the dragon's chin in her head, giving him a devious grin. "But we had fun last night, didn't we?"

"Hordes of it," the dragon murmured, a grin slowly spreading over his muzzle too.

"Good," Alia said. She leaned forward and kissed his nose, then stroked his cheek a few times. "I'll be back with some food shortly. Try not to wear out your foreleg in the meantime."

True to her word, Alia was not gone long. She took a brief bath in her private copper tub, just long enough to scrub her body clean and wash her hair. She already had her clothes and belongings packed and ready to go. When she was dry she changed into a set of silvery breeches with white stars and black blossoms all across them. She liked them, they reminded her a bit of something Kaylen would wear if a bit less dramatically colorful. She also put on a custom tailored blue blouse with short sleeves hemmed in gold. Though she'd bought a new pair of brown leather shoes with bronze buckles, she kept her sandals on instead. She quite liked them.

By the time Alia returned Valyrym was sprawled upon the burgundy rug that had quickly become his favorite place for lounging. Shafts of sunlight streamed in through the barred air vents, dappling the dragon's mottled black and gray hide with splotches of gold. A few dusty motes swirled in the pillars of sunlight. When he heard Alia approach, he shifted himself up to his haunches. As the golden light played across his body it caused ancient gray scars to stand out against his darker scales for a moment. When the light hit his eyes they shone like twin suns. A flicker of fear and loneliness shone in them for a moment, but the dragon quickly banished it. Not because he was afraid to let Alia know his feelings anymore, but because he had come to know he would be alright while Alia was away.

Thanks to Alia, he had friends here now.

Alia climbed up onto the ledge and settled across from him. She was carrying an immense tray piled high with breakfast meats. Several kinds of sausages were coiled together in unbroken links. Large slabs of ham and hefty cuts of bacon sat next to them. Crusty bread smeared with blackberry jam, and thick slices of cheese lay nearby. A large bowl of porridge dusted with sugar and dried fruit occupied the far end of the tray.

Alia set the tray down, and sat cross-legged across it from the dragon. She pointed to the bowl of porridge and smirked. "That is yours."

Valyrym glared at her, then lowered his head, sniffing at the porridge. "You may keep your bowl of infant vomit." He unsheathed a single claw, and speared a sausage. "I shall eat this instead."

As Valyrym lifted the first sausage, the rest began to follow till he swiped another claw through one of them, severing the link. Alia blinked at him, then stared at the bowl of porridge, grimacing. Valyrym ate the sausage, purring to himself as savory juices spilled across his tongue. He watched as Alia picked up the wooden spoon on the tray, and slowly prodded the porridge with it.

"What are you doing, Alia?" The dragon cocked his head. "You look as though you fear something is about to leap out of that disgusting looking swamp and attack you."

Alia giggled to herself. "Trying to decide if you've totally ruined my porridge for me or not."

"If I haven't, I could scrape some slime off the ledges near the tub and deposit that in your bowl." When Alia's face twisted up at the idea, the dragon went on, flicking his spined tail in amusement. "It would probably taste better that way. At least then you'd know what was in it."

"I know what's in it," Alia protested, tapping her wooden spoon on the edge of the bowl. "It's porridge."

"And what exactly is porridge made of?"

"It's...well..." Alia floundered a little. She dunked her spoon in the bowl and then popped it in her mouth as if hoping to decipher the contents by flavor. "It's oats and things. ...I think."

"Yes, that sounds delightful." Valyrym plucked one of the slices of bread from the tray, taking as small a bite as he could. Blackberry jam was a rare treat for the dragon, though thanks to Alia he got to enjoy it more often these days. He murmured in enjoyment as he rolled the stuff around his mouth with his tongue. It reminded him of Sigil Stones, and the marketplace, and of better times. "This, on the other hand," he said, waving the remaining half of the hunk of bread. "Really is delightful."

Alia smiled, glad he was enjoying it. She ate a few more spoonfuls of porridge once she'd banished the dragon's disgusting image from her mind. "This actually is quite good. I've got some sugar in it and some fruit. I like it."

"Better you than me," Valyrym murmured. After finishing the bread he helped himself to some more sausages, then some of the ham and bacon. Though he suspected Alia had brought most of the meats for him, he did not want to eat everything before she'd had a chance. After watching her eat half the bowl of porridge, curiosity got the best of the dragon. Without asking, he stuck a single digit into her bowl then licked the off-white mixture from his finger. He licked his nose, then gave an unimpressed shrug of his wings. "Not so bad. I've had better."

"And you'll have worse if you keep acting like a brat," Alia said, giggling. She nibbled on a slice of bacon, smiling at the dragon. She was really going to miss him. Valyrym had his paw wrapped around her heart now, and every day away from him he was going to be squeezing it just a little tighter. She finished off her bacon, and waved her spoon at his nose. "I'll tell Kaylen to feed you nothing but porridge for a whole month! No sugar or anything either!"

As Alia waved her spoon a blob of the porridge flew off of it and splattered the dragon's nose across his pink scar. The dragon blinked in surprise, and Alia burst out laughing. "Oh! Sorry about that."

Valyrym gave her a playful glare. "You did that on purpose."

"Did not," Alia said, eating another spoonful of porridge. She left a bit on the spoon. "If I did it on purpose, this would have happened!" She flicked the spoon in the dragon's direction and this time several large splotches of the stuff sprayed across the gray-tinged scales of his muzzle. As Valyrym recoiled with a cry of surprise, Alia burst out laughing. "Oh! Now you look like you've been sharing pleasure with Korvarak!"

"I do not!" Valyrym hissed in horror, quickly wiping the stuff from his muzzle with a paw. He reached out and wiped his paw off on Alia's breeches, grinning.

"Hey!" Alia whacked his paw with the spoon. Valyrym yelped and pulled his paw back, and Alia glared at him. "Those are clean!"

"They were clean," the dragon snorted. "Now they're filthy. Like your dirty mind."

"My mind was a field of pristine snow before I met you," Alia said, giggling as she scraped at the porridge bowl with her spoon.

"Yes, you were a real innocent little virgin," Valyrym murmured, slowly lifting his spines as his smirk returned. "I could tell by the way you were so hesitant to pleasure me the first day we met."

Alia's face reddened a little as she ate the last of the porridge, and dropped the spoon into the bowl. "I oughta whack you in the eggs, dragon."

Valyrym curled his tail protectively, grinning at her. "I should offer to let you just this once, but I fear I shall soon be in a foul enough mood as it is without sore testicles." The dragon glanced around as if surprised no one else was down in the dungeon with them. "Besides. I've a sneaking suspicion Kaylen will be as quick to actually use that move as you are to threaten it."

Alia grinned at him. She picked up another slice of bacon, bit it in half and waggled the rest of it towards the dragon. "So you'd better stop mouthing off to her so much."

"Or better yet, I could just keep my balls out of range." The dragon glanced down at himself.

"Good luck with that, then," Alia giggled, eating the last of the bacon. She picked up one of the last sausages and offered it to the dragon. Gently as he could, Valyrym took the food from her hand with his teeth. With her other hand, Alia stroked his muzzle, sighing and smiling at him. "I am going to miss you, Valyrym."

"I don't blame you," the dragon murmured around a mouthful of sausage. Then when Alia glared at him, he pushed his muzzle forward to nuzzle her cheek. "I shall miss you as well, Alia. More than you realize, I suspect."

"No," Alia said softly. She leaned in to kiss the dragon's nose, stroking his jaw. "I think I know." Alia pressed her face to the dragon's muzzle for a few long moments. Finally, she glanced up at the vents, trying to judge the position of the sun. "I'm afraid I really should be going..."

"...I know." Valyrym nuzzled at her throat, sighing against her skin.

"I have another surprise for you, but you'll have to wait a little longer before you see it."

Valyrym pulled his head back, swiveling his ears forward in interest. "What is it?"

"I just told you it's a surprise, you silly dragon. You'll have it soon, though. I think it will..." Alia fumbled for words a moment, then chose those she hoped would be meaningful. "...Ease your burden while I'm away."

"Very well, Alia," Valyrym said, warmth blossoming in his heart and hoarseness creeping up his throat. "I shall at least feign patience then. Though, that reminds me." The dragon glanced back towards his sleeping chamber. "I wanted to give you something as well, before you left. Give me one moment."

Alia knit her brow, tilting her head a little. What could Valyrym possibly have gotten for her, and how? "Alright, my lovely dragon. But a moment is about all I have. I'd rather not have the guards have to come down here to drag me out because I'm late for my banishment."

Valyrym dipped his wedge shaped head in a nod, and quickly clambered down the ledge. He trotted off towards his sleeping chamber. The dragon dug through his blankets and pillows and the rest of his bedding until he found what he was looking for.

The idea had come to him recently, when he learned Alia would be gone from his life for a time. He soon realized that meant he would be gone from her life, as well. Valyrym did not know how often Alia would get to see her friends. It seemed strange to the dragon to think that he might actually get to see Kaylen and Thomas and Vatch more than Alia did for the next three months. Alia might actually be lonelier than the dragon.

Valyrym never wanted Alia to be lonely. Valyrym never wanted Alia to be alone again. So Valyrym was going to give her something to ease her burden, too. The dragon was going to give her something to ensure she'd never be alone while she was away.

Valyrym was giving her Val Junior.

Valyrym trotted back to the judge with his cotton-stuffed son clutched gently in his jaws. He climbed back up, and as soon as Alia saw who he was holding she sucked in her breath and covered her mouth with her hand. Valyrym settled down on his haunches and slowly extended his neck. He held Val Junior in his jaws as reverently as he had once carried his real son, and pressed the stuffed hatchling against Alia's chest until she carefully took the toy from him.

"Valyrym, I can't-"

"I want you to have him," Valyrym said. The dragon's voice cracked a little despite the battle he fought to keep it steady.

"But Valyrym..."

The dragon lifted a foreleg, and gently stroked Alia's arm. His throat tightened, hoarseness grating his voice. "Alia...when you gave him to me, you told me I'd never be alone as long as Val Junior was with me." The dragon sniffed, wetness began to shine in his golden eyes. "And you were right. He was always a comfort to me, when you were not around. I would not be embarrassed now to tell you that I clung to him that night. Or that I cried into him. But...I am not alone anymore, Alia. Even when you are not here, you have...you have brought friends into my life. But you?"

Valyrym swallowed hard, glancing away. He tried to blink the tears from his eyes, several of them running down the pebbly black scales of his face. "You need him now, while you're gone. I don't...I don't want you to feel lonely, while you're away. So...take him. I want you to have him. I want you to know that..." Valyrym sniffed again, a little smile starting to creep across his snout. "With Val Junior around, you'll never be alone."

"Oh, Val!" Alia cried out, flinging herself against the dragon. She wrapped her arms against his neck as she began to cry into his scales. Valyrym was a little surprised by the response. He hoped it was the good sort of crying. He lifted a paw and pressed it to her back, hugging her against him. "I'll take good care of him, I promise!"

"I know you will," Valyrym said, trying to clear his throat with a growl. He rubbed Alia's back, then grinned to himself. "Because if you don't he'll tell me all about it in three months."

Alia sniffled, and slowly pulled back from the dragon. She wiped her eyes with one hand, cradling Val Junior against herself with the other. "In three months, then."

"Three months," the dragon repeated. He took a deep breath and held it in an attempt to calm the hammering of his pained heart. "I love you, Alia."

"I love you too, Valyrym."

---

"You should wait for your bird, Mother." Prince Elvir stood in the courtyard alongside his mother. Behind them, an entire convoy of carriages, wagons, and transports were being prepared to depart. A small army of workers and soldiers were quickly stowing the last of the luggage and supplies. "Surely he will return soon."

"I have waited as long as I could, Elvir," Kathlyn said softly. The Queen and her son stood in the long shadow cast by the towering stone wall that circled the castle grounds. Legions of guardsmen patrolled the walkway atop the wall, their armored bodies half obscured by tall battlements. "In fact I have waited longer than I should have in order to do someone a favor."

Elvir folded his arms over his chest. The green and gold sleeves of his tunic rustled a little. A scowl darkened his countenance. "For that Alia woman, I suppose?"

"Yes, Elvir," Kathlyn said, a hint of irritability creeping into her voice. "For Alia. She was still Warden until today, after all. I wanted to offer her my full assistance in making sure the transition goes smoothly. I had to ensure there is no chance of the dragon's aggression returning while she is away. I do not understand why..."

"I rather doubt that is all you did for her, or you would not have called it a favor," Elvir said, smirking.

"Elvir..."

The prince cut his mother off. "It is not who you did the favor for that bothers me. It is the fact you are willing to delay your trip for a favor, yet unwilling to delay it long enough to afford yourself further protection."

"Krek will catch up," Kathlyn said, turning away from her son a moment. She gazed around the courtyard, idly straightening the pale blue dress she wore. It bore no layers of cascading fabric, no lace or anything even resembling fanciful. This was going to be a long journey spend with many months in a carriage, and Kathlyn had packed as many clothes purely suited for comfort as she could. "That gryphon could out fly an arrow if he had half a mind too."

Elvir opened his mouth to reply, but then slowly shut it. He'd been planning to ask his mother why the bird was gone so long. Krek must have been delayed, or wounded. Or worse. But the prince realized his mother knew that just as well as he did. There was no need to bring up something that must already weigh heavily on her heart. "Very well, mother."

For a few moments the two of them were simply quiet. Normally Kathlyn liked her castle's expansive front courtyard. It was a beautiful place with sprawling gardens and groves of towering trees. Little ponds and creeks lined with smooth, mossy stones gave it a picturesque quality. Today, though, the courtyard was filled with men shouting orders and curses, and horses whinnying, nickering, and stomping their hooves against the ground. Kathlyn couldn't recall the last time a royal trip of such magnitude had taken place. With a bitter sigh, she realized it might well have been the trip that ended with Valyrym's attack.

Kathlyn swiftly spun around, and snatched her son into her embrace. Though the younger man was noticeably taller than her, she had no trouble pulling him fiercely against her body and hugging him tightly. After a moment's hesitation, Elvir was soon hugging his mother back just as hard.

"Be safe, Mother," he whispered. "For the love of the Gods, please be safe. If the worst should happen, if Krek is there...Just get on his back and fly away. I know you have the best of intentions, but remember. Illandra needs you even more than Aran'alia does. If you will forgive my morbidity, you cannot lead from the grave, Mother."

Kathlyn sighed. It was an unsettling way to put things, but she knew her son was right. "For what it's worth, Elvir. If the worst does happen? I certainly have no intention of standing there and letting Kylaryn slay me without putting up a fight."

Elvir chuckled a little, rubbing his mother's back. "You use her name as though you know the bitch. But don't be foolish. If Krek and all your guard cannot stop her, you certainly cannot. I am serious when I tell you to ride Krek to safety. Surely he can out fly some wrinkled up old dragon."

"If it eases your heart," Kathlyn said, resting her head against her son's shoulder. "I have a suspicion that should the dragon actually attack, Krek will snatch me up and fly me away whether I allow it or not."

"Good," Elvir murmured. "When the bird comes for his armor, I shall be certain to order him to do just as much. Not that he'd listen to my orders, but since it's you we are talking about, he may make an exception."

Kathlyn smiled a little before she finally pulled away from her son. She took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "Let's make this official, then."

Elvir nodded, and lowered himself to one knee before his mother. Kathlyn waved for the officials and ministers that were standing nearby to come forward. All six of them were clad in robes of office baring the traditional colors of Illandra. Silvery gray and vibrant blue, with ancient Illandran runes in bright silver and gold depicting their positions and offices. The six all knelt in a semi circle beyond the prince, bowing their heads to the two royals.

Kathlyn put a hand upon her son's head, speaking softly. "I am Queen Kathlyn The Second of Illandra. I hereby decree that until such time as I return to my castle, my son Prince Elvir shall rule in my stead, and with my blessing. He is as King."

"He is as King," repeated the six ministers.

"His word is law," Kathlyn said.

"His word is law," they repeated after her.

"If I should fall, Elvir is to be crowned King of Illandra immediately, revocable only if news of my death should prove highly exaggerated." Kathlyn smirked to herself. She added that last bit just to make herself grin. The ministers didn't seem to know if they should repeat that part, given it was not part of tradition. Kathlyn snorted, lifting her hand and glancing around. "Alright, that's enough. You can all get up and get back to business."

Elvir rose back up, and without hesitation hugged his mother fiercely once more. "Be safe, Mother." He sniffed softly, and kissed her cheek. "I mean it."

"I shall do my very best, my Dear." Kathlyn hugged him back, and kissed his cheek in return.

Kathlyn pulled away with a little sigh, and walked towards her carriage. Bownen held the gilded blue and silver door open for her, and offered her his hand to help her step up. Kathlyn waved to her son, then settled in against the plush pale blue-cushioned bench. Bownen closed the door, and armored men on horseback quickly fell in all around the carriage. Someone whistled, and the carriage soon lurched forward to take its place in the long convoy that began to carry Kathlyn from Illandra.

---

Valyrym awoke late in the morning on the first full day of Alia's banishment. For a few brief, blissful moments the groggy haze draped across the old dragon's mind kept him from remembering that Alia would not be there today. With his eye still half lidded, Valyrym licked his nose and wondered what Alia would bring him for breakfast. Then he hissed when he remembered the truth.

Day one. Surely this would be the worst day. The hardest one to get through. After that, he could start a new series of marks upon his wall. Unlike his collected years, these marks would be leading towards something far happier. Still, there was no sense dwelling on what he could not change. At least he would have Kaylen, Thomas and Vatch to keep him company. Much as he might enjoy insulting the three of them whenever possible, he had certainly come to call them friend. Not that he'd admit as much.

Perhaps he'd tell Vatch. But not the other two.

For a time, Valyrym lay curled atop his sprawling bed of soft things. With no one there to prod him or rouse him he allowed himself to wake slowly, even dozing a little more for a few minutes at a time. Gradually he became aware that he was snuggled around something soft. Valyrym smiled to himself. At least he still had Val Junior to keep him company.

Wait. No. He gave Val Junior to Alia.

So what the hell was he curled around? Probably Little Ky. That seemed oddly appropriate somehow. "Never could resist me, could you Blue." Valyrym chuckled to himself. He yawned, muzzle split wide around his curling tongue. Then the dragon began to rise up, stretching his forepaws out front of himself with his rump in the air. Might as well get up and start getting Day One over with.

Once he rose to his feet, Valyrym glanced under himself expecting to see an antique blue plush dragon settled upon his bed. Instead he found a soft little green stuffed toy peering up at his hind end. Oh damn! He'd been snuggling Cuddly Korvarak all night. With an irritable hiss, Valyrym swiftly turned around and batted the stuffed green dragon across the room.

"How the hell did you get there?" Valyrym snarled at the toy as it careered off his bookshelf, and tumbled across the ground. "You think you can just sneak up under my belly while I'm sleeping? Yes, that'd be just like Korvarak, wouldn't it."

Valyrym plopped down on his haunches, glaring at the toy. Good thing Alia wasn't here. She'd never in his life let him live it down if she knew he'd been cuddling with the Korvarak toy in his sleep. It was also a good thing he hadn't awoken with an erection. Valyrym blinked at that thought, glancing down at himself to make sure. Good. His psyche never would have recovered if he'd awoken aroused after that.

Valyrym shuddered at the idea, his scales clicking together. He turned his horned head to glare at the stuffed green dragon as though it were all his fault somehow. "You'd have loved that, wouldn't you." He peered at the toy a little while, his pebbly-scaled face soon twisting into a more thoughtful expression. He lifted his spines a little, perking his ears. "I wonder where you are, Korvarak. I hope you're alright. You'd better be treating my sister well." He snapped his jaws, and then chuckled at himself. "Gods. Now I'm talking to Korvarak. At this rate I shall be convinced all my old friends are actually here with me by the time Alia returns. Won't that be fun for her, to return to a dragon gone mad. At least I can finally introduce her to my family."

Valyrym eventually pushed himself up to all four paws, spined tail swaying behind him. He stretched his gray-edged wings a little bit, careful not to upset any of his trinkets and treasures upon his shelves. Might as well go and get a drink. Surely Kaylen and Thomas would be down soon with his breakfast. At least they'd better be. If they were substantially late, Valyrym was going to have to make things very difficult for the new Warden and his assistant.

Valyrym padded out of his sleeping chamber and made his way towards the water that cascaded in over the ledges near his tub. Still a bit groggy, the old dragon paid little attention to his surroundings. When he reached the water he dropped his head and began to lap at it, slowly easing the deep thirst that persisted across his long throat. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted something green. At first the dragon thought it was the rose bush that Alia had brought him not that long ago. Thanks to Vatch's help, so far the rose had not only survived but gone into heavier bloom as well, decorated with several beautiful, blood red flowers. Only when Valyrym lifted his head from the water did he realize it was not the rose bush he'd spotted.

It was an apple tree.

Valyrym's breath caught. For a moment he froze. It couldn't be. Could it? How the hell did...Alia. That sneaky woman. She'd claimed she had a surprise for him, and so she had. Valyrym slowly turned and padded towards the tree, his heart fluttering inside his plated chest. Valyrym had no idea where she got it, or how she got it down here. She must have left instructions for it to be brought down during the night to surprise him when he woke.

It was a healthy young tree, not quite as tall as a man. It rose from a sturdy looking clay pot carved with images of an Aran'alian village, homes with sloped roofs spanning all around the pot. The tree itself was covered in quite a few blossoms. From one branch hung a single ripe apple. The tree was set in a patch of sunlight streaming in from an air vent. In the sunlight, the golden spots on the apple rind flickered almost like tiny fireflies.

"I don't know how you did it," Valyrym murmured. "But thank you, Alia."

The dragon sniffed at the apple tree. The sweet scent of the blossoms filled his head with memories of beauty and love. Images of Sigil Stones flickered in his mind. He saw Amaleen dancing in the rain beneath blossom-covered boughs. He saw Valar scaling that old apple tree to help himself to the fruit. He saw himself curled beneath the tree, when everything had gone so terribly wrong. Somehow Amaleen made it all right again.

Somehow, Alia found a way to do the same without even being there.

Even in banishment, Alia kept making his life worth living again.

Valyrym was just about to curl around the apple tree to enjoy the scent while he awaited his breakfast when he spotted something else that was new. It seemed one heartwarming surprise was not enough for Alia. No, she had to leave him two. Something hung from the wall a little ways down his prison. Alia had finally fulfilled his request for a painting. Just like the apple tree she'd had it brought in overnight to surprise him on his first day without her. The painting hung over the ledge carpeted with his favorite burgundy rug.

Valyrym smiled to himself as he padded towards the ledge. He wondered just what sort of painting she'd gotten him. A landscape, probably. That was fine with him. He'd enjoy getting to stare at something beautiful while he lounged about. As he drew a little nearer, he could see there was a large figure front and center on the painting. A winged figure. A dragon in a sort of noble looking pose. Ah, she'd brought him a painting of a noble dragon. How lovely. Valyrym was already smiling when he reached the ledge, got a better look at the painting, and realized it was not just any dragon on the painting.

It was a portrait of Valaranyx.

"Oh..." Valyrym nearly crumpled in shock. His legs wobbled, his heart thudded and his stomach twisted into knots of heart-wrenching delight. Some way, somehow, Alia had brought him a portrait of his son. "Oh...Gods...Valar..." Valyrym reached out towards the portrait as if his son truly stood before him. His paw trembled in the air. "My son...you've grown...you look...so handsome..."

Valyrym stared at the painting for long moments, tears welling in his eyes just as happiness welled up in his heart like warm water overflowing a basin. The portrait was not of Valar as Valyrym remembered him. It was not of his son as a hatchling, nor even of him as a lanky adolescent like the image Kylaryn sent him in the book Of Poetry. No, the vivid, lifelike portrait showed Valar as he must look now.

In the painting, Valar sat on his haunches with his tail curled around his blue paws. He held his head up proudly, a hint of a familiar smirk spread over his muzzle. His horns and spines were all grown in, his colors deepened and vibrant. Scars that Valyrym knew all too well still marked his body, but they looked as though they'd faded with age. His wings were lightly flared, one looked just a little awkward. He would not fly well, but he could fly just the same. The dragon looked handsome, noble, regal and healthy, sitting in the midst of a beautiful grove of apple trees somewhere far from Illandra.

Slowly, Valyrym climbed upon the ledge, and settled himself down upon it. Now Valyrym knew. Somewhere out there, his son was alive, his son was healthy, and his son was happy. With that knowledge, so too was Valyrym happy.

"Thank you, Alia," Valyrym murmured, his voice hoarse. "Thank you so much. I know not how you did this, but I cannot think of a more perfect gift."

Even in her absence, Alia made Valyrym's life better. Valyrym smiled, and gave a gentle sigh as he stared at the painting of his beloved son. He almost felt as though Valar were there, watching over his aged father. What a wonderful gift for Alia to have given him.

Alia's real surprise was peace of mind.

Valyrym knew everything was going to be alright.

---

Thus ends How Far We Fall. If you've enjoyed, please Fav, and leave me a comment with your thoughts on the story. They keep me writing! See you next time, my friends.