Bahamut is owned by me.
Whisper is owned by  naughtywhitetiger

Bahamut had stumbled by a cliff, his body so heavy he no longer had the strength it hold it.. A trail of blood traced his path from beyond the plains, a journey which had taken altogether too much time. The golden dragon was in a horrible shape, his body bloody from his injuries and muddy from the crawl which had led him here. His arms formed crooked angles and it was a miracle that he was even able to use them for support. But worst off still were his wings, once majestic and powerful, now turned to shreds, broken and no longer able to support the dragon. Sheer willpower had carried him across the miles and although he just wanted to let himself rest, he knew that he had to push on now or lose the opportunity forever.

The dragon's breath came sporadically as he slowly made his way onwards, inching forward in a painful crawl. His eyes were bloodshot, his view hazy, but there was a strong wind blowing from beyond the cliff and it was calling him, leading him to the edge, his final destination. He had little more to travel, less than 50 paces, but his journey had taken such a toll upon his body and mind. Yet he wouldn't let anything stand in his way and while his mind remained a blur, he slowly edged onwards, one arm at a time, dragging his body through the damp soil.

But there was only so much energy the wounded dragon could expend and soon, his arms failed him, dropping his head to the ground. So close from his goal, but it might as well be a thousand leagues away now. A tear of rage slipped by his eye. He was tired and emotional and hurt, and he was failing the last thing he would ever do. Perhaps this was for the best. His body would be found soon, laying in eternal sleep. Sleep sounded really good right about now.

"Bahamut!" he heard in the distance, the cry waking him back into consciousness. The name was cried once more and he knew to whom it belonged: Whisper. Of course the white tiger would be here, despite his best attempts to avoid him until the end of his journey was reached. But the dragon had left a trail of blood along his path, making any discretion impossible.

“Bahamut!” Whisper repeated, again and again as he closed the distance, until finally the tiger was upon him. Immediately he fell to his knees, grabbing the dragon's now mostly lifeless body and holding it against him. Bahamut didn't even have the strength to turn his eyes to him. But even if he did, would he dare? In his final moments, he had made his choice and he knew Whisper would not accept his departure so easily.

“Why didn't you tell me!” the feline cried out, his tone accusatory. “I could have helped! I could have alleviated your pain. You know what I can do!” and on those words his hands began to glow. Despite the wind and the cold, Bahamut felt a warmth deep inside of him, but it lasted only for a moment before vanishing.

“It's not so easy,” Bahamut responded with a raspy voice. He had known that his healing powers would not be enough. Not for this. And so he had left without a word, rather than extending the pain any longer. “I couldn't bare the thought of saying good bye,” he added after a long pause.

Whisper couldn't accept that this was exactly that, a final good bye before the dragon would move on. He had lost so much already and it was unthinkable that the dragon would make that list as well. Bahamut had hoped that by being absent, the pain would be lessened for both of him. Laying there, in his arms, being weak, he felt like he was being weak, betraying Whisper by his death.

"You should have told me," the tiger whispered, knowing full well the futility of his words. Bahamut always was stubborn, always seeking to keep some sense of control over his life. If he had to die, then it would be on his own terms. But despite it all, the dragon was happy to find himself in Whisper's arms one last time. A part of him wanted the moment to never end, yet if he had crawled such a distance with a blatent disregard for his wounds, it was because he had one final goal to accomplish.

“I came here to fly, one last time,” Bahamut said, his voice a rasp, responding to the silent question.

"But, Bahamut..."

"I know," the dragon interrupted, weakly moving his wings. Once mighty and powerful, the shred and broken remains could no longer sustain flight, let along a glide. Bahamut had known from the start where his path would lead him once off the cliff edge. But he was a dragon and to the end, he was meant to fly.

"Help me," Bahamut pleaded, which broke the tiger's heart. He had never heard the dragon plead for anything before. How cruel that the one time where he was truly needed, was for this one unfair final deed. And yet, through silent tears, Whisper wrapped one of the dragon's arms along his shoulders and carried the heavy beast as he could.

The ascension was slow, the wind cold and cutting. Bahamut winced and grunted in pain with every step, but Whisper knew better than to stop. They pushed on together, one step following each, as the dark horizon revealed itself and the turbulant sea below.

Once at the edge, he let the dragon slowly slide to the ground, one hand hanging in the void beyond. Both were breathing heavily, but the loud winds carried the sounds away. Bahamut spoke a few words, but the tiger could not hear them at first.

"You have been there when I needed you the most," the dragon weakly repeated as the tiger got closer. “Thank you.” For a moment, Whisper thought the dragon had lost consciousness, but he then spoke once more. “Now go. And don't look back.”

“No...” Whisper weakly uttered in shock, not wanting to believe what the dragon has just asked of him. They had gone so far together and the thought of leaving him in this place... It was too much to bare. “I'm not leaving you!” he cried out against the wind, against fate and against innevitability.

“We always knew this would be where we would part ways. I just... I want you to remember me as I was, not as I am.” Bahamut's voice was shaking, the separating breaking his heart even though he was too proud to let it show. “Please... just go.”

Whisper let out a cry of anger as he got up and abruptly turned. He let the unfairness of the situation fuel his steps, the wind in his back and the tears in his eyes. At that moment, they both felt each other's pain, and all Bahamut could do was look at the tiger walking away from him, one last time. And then, once Whisper was far enough, the dragon pushed himself over the edge with one last feat of strength.

He felt his body spinning, the wind whirling around him. The cliffside rushed at an impossible pace, the sea appoaching with haste, but he simply closed his eyes and smiled serenely. Finally, he could fly again! He could see the sunshine, fields below him and the shadow of his body across it. He could see the snowy mountain peaks, luscious green forests, walled cities of stone which spread forever in every direction.

And he could see that one homestead where it had all begun, the tiger's small figure waving to him far below. Bahamut waved back as he landed.

“I'm home,” Bahamut told Whisper.

Then the eternal night fell, and he was no more.