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More from Angel Phantom Furry Artist
Listed in Folders
Another long one! But enjoyable hopefully!
We learn our dear ice breather's naaaame oooooo.
If you're NEW to this series, then I would suggest starting from the beginning, which is here:
http://www.furaffinity.net/view/5918826
If you don't read through "The Dragon" and "The Mortal" you will miss out on many humorous things that are involved in this story AS WELL AS SPOILERS!!! SO MANY SPOILERS!! GO READ THOSE FIRST!
MINE.
~Angel~
<<< PREV | FIRST | NEXT >>>
_______________________________________________________________
He should have left when she was resting. He should have left her when he finished flapping all that damn snow around her, or when he moved the crates into the far corner. There were so many opportunities to leave then, and now? Now why should he care if she goes to hell or not? Even if it WAS his fault, he didn't have to stay here because SHE believed in a blood debt.
His mind was getting muddied with instincts and feelings, things he usually kept in a very particular locked away portion of his life. He definitely reserved feelings for particular situations, and female ice breathers whom he didn't even know the name of were no reason to break that rule! His instincts were telling him a dozen different things that he did not want to be made aware of, ever. Females and feelings were not to be mixed, and that was all this ice chomper caused him. Instincts he wasn't aware he was capable of flared to life around her, beckoning him to follow down a path he did NOT want to go. He wasn't going to be trapped, not like his father, not like his brother. He wouldn't let himself fall prey to that kind of—torture, responsibility, and worst of all—no he wouldn't even mention it.
He wanted to get all the hells out of there, leave behind all these ridiculous instincts and emotions and never look upon her again. He didn't even want to know her name anymore, being nameless would make it far easier for him to forget her. That what was best for both of them, for her to just exist here and him to exist elsewhere.
He had to get out, even for a few days. He had to get away from sparkling scales, a quick tongue and no name! For she brought out—needs. Not the usual needs he had for attractive dragoness' either, no, these were far more dangerous.
The need to protect for one. Who said he had to kill that silver bull? Sure, he was going to try to kill Dracen but that hadn't brought out the bull dragon in Dracen. She had. The stranger's attack on HER had, finally snapping all his logical mind was pushing against and he did not like that need at all. With that protective instinct brought on the next infernal need. Her safety. Dracen, still covered in another dragon—another of his own species blood—carried her not AWAY from, but back to his—her—the damned lair! He NEEDED to know she was safe somewhere.
And the last need, the damnedest one of all, he needed her to LIVE. HER. LIVE. He couldn't let the burn slowly consume her, the charred flesh heating her far hotter than anything one of her species could handle. He had to keep her chilled and so what did he do? Used his wings to flap the newly fallen show on the lair step into, through and upon the dragoness, making sure to bury her in it and hopefully let her own healing ability take its course.
These—needs were beyond dangerous. He barely felt the need to protect immediate family, so why would his instincts want—no—need to protect her? The nameless one? What was she but an opponent? An enemy? No. No more. He now had a new need. The need to suppress all those needs and stuff them into a locked chest then throw it into the serpents' oceans! He lived in a VERY specific way, and he intended to keep it that way! Baser instincts or no! He would not be a slave to his nature!
“What are you thinking about?” the ice chomper asked, licking up some snow to satisfy her thirst. He was staring. Again.
“What?” he shook his head rapidly.
“You have been standing there quietly for more than five minutes,” she observed, looking a little like a snake sticking out of the snow. “What are you thinking about?”
“I—have an appointment I should be leaving for,” he lied, sort of, mostly. “I am going to visit with my brother and his mate for a few days—”
“If you think I won't hunt you down after I've healed, Dracen the Talking, think again,” she warned him. He believed her, if anything she was determined.
“I will come back,” he announced, “I wouldn't want you hitting me in the back of the skull again—especially if my brother were around to witness such a feat,” he couldn't help but rub the back of his skull where the tender lump had formed, “It might give him ideas.”
“How many days before I can expect you back, then?” she questioned, making him narrow his eyes at her.
“Are you my mother?”
“Not unless intelligence skips a generation,” she answered, before snorting at her own retort, “I would like to know in case you do decide to try and out run my blood debt. Then I can be on the hunt for you.”
“I will not be the one to condemn you to ice-breather hell, I assure you,” he responded in a droll manner. “However, if I am not back within two weeks, then you can come rescue me from the perils of family which will be the only reason I've been there THAT long.”
“I will be healed by then, and if your brother holds you captive, it would make an excellent way for me to fulfill my blood debt,” she said casually, her head and neck turning placidly to the side.
“Hmm,” he hummed a bit, “I wonder if mother would forgive me...No, no. Best just maim him. Death would make mother very disagreeable.”
“In any case,” she shrugged, the only indication she did so was the snow moving up where her shoulders would be. She completely missed his playful banter and took it more as truth. “I will expect you in two weeks.”
He turned to go before he got caught in another deep philosophical debate with himself, starting to leave the bitter-cold chamber.
“Aurorianna.”
He stopped when the word reached his ears, twisting his head around sternly.
“My name,” she responded to his questioning look. “Aurorianna—most call me Rori.”
“...I will keep that in mind,” was all he could muster to say, twisting his head forward again to embark on familiar territory, familiar torturing, familiar clarity. Damn. The viper had a name now. The name wouldn't leave his memory. Damned. He was definitely damned.
***********************************************************************
Rayne was supposed to be back within an hour. Since it had nearly been two, Magnus decided to head out in search of her, Ryre currently riding on his back although he also liked to climb up into his mane and bounce around on Magnus' head. Since he didn't want to get into any trouble with his little mate, he was walking through the forest instead of flying overhead and had made sure Ryre was in at least little pants and boots. The hatchling barely tolerated those things, even in the winter weather. He followed Rayne's scent with some detours for his larger body, finding her standing against a short tree near where the forest had been destroyed some years prior, staring out at something. He frowned as Ryre popped his head out from his mane, wiggling excitedly when he saw his mother.
“Mama!” Ryre shouted, making Rayne turn and smile, but there was something amiss. Especially when she turned back around to look at what ever had her attentions. Magnus moved forward and focused down on Rayne, letting Ryre slip down his snout and crawl onto his mother's shoulder, nuzzling under her chin as she scooped him into her arms.
“What is that?” she asked, jerking her head towards the vast clearing of snow that used to be forest with trees as thick as his torso. But, oddly enough he spotted what Rayne was referring to, the large blue dragon with the black mane and silver scales settled in the snow like a perched cat. He was staring downwards into a sliver of a stream, his tail whisking back and forth and melting all the snow behind it.
“That, is Dracen,” Magnus answered in a mumble, frowning.
“I'm aware of that,” she responded, “But—he's been out there for two hours, just staring down at the water.”
“You've been watching him—for two hours?” Magnus questioned. “Don't you get cold if you sit too long?”
“At the moment that's not the point,” she sighed with deep annoyance. “The point is Dracen came into your territory...not to pester you? Or announce himself? Or spy on us? So what is that?”
“Ahh, well. That,” he pointed with his claw towards his blue scaled brother. “Is somber Dracen.”
“Huh,” she murmured, before announcing, “That's—terrifying. Isn't that an oxymoron?”
“What?”
“Somber Dracen.”
“Obviously it exists,” he replied. “He hasn't noticed you staring at him from here?”
“No,” she shook her head and kissed Ryre's forehead. “Why?”
“He should have,” Magnus declared, “I heard your heartbeat far before I could see you, and I assure you he can hear it—if he was paying attention.”
“Do you think this had to do with his lair being taken over?” Rayne questioned as she started to worry. “He doesn't look injured...not as bad as last time.”
“I have no idea. You can always ask him—”
“I think you should go talk to him,” Rayne said in a far more ordering tone. Magnus snorted smoke through his nose at her, dumb-founded with her “suggestion”. “He IS your brother.”
“Yes and that fact is the only reason I haven't killed him yet. He has given me far MORE reasons to do so mind you—”
“You're his brother, he looks upset. Go and see why,” Rayne looked up at him with a stern glare, Ryre beginning to chew on her braid coyly. Magnus groaned, casting his eyes back onto his brother and lowering his head in defeat. He lumbered, dragged his tail, did everything but stomp his back claw like a hatchling on the way to his brother but none of that seemed to catch Dracen's attention. His annoyance waned, he hadn't been able to sneak up on his brother since Dracen was under a century. Now Magnus was deliberately making a scene and Dracen wasn't even twitching an ear in his direction?
He stopped close to Dracen although out of his swinging tail's way, giving him a few moments to see if his brother would acknowledge his presence. No such luck.
“Dracen,” Magnus called.
“Hm?” Dracen grunted at him.
“What are you doing?” Magnus asked first, walking around his brother to be able to see his head.
“Mmhm,” Dracen responded without even blinking. Magnus quirked one of his brows high, looking to Rayne and lifting his paw while shrugging to tell her of his defeat but she wasn't having it, urging him with a flicking of her paw back at his brother. Magnus rolled his eyes but went back to the problem of his pouting brother. Now how to get his attention...
Magnus grabbed his brother by one of his horns and shook his head vigorously, making sure not to let go until Dracen started to grab at his claw and try to bat him off. Magnus shoved his brother's head back and watched him roll a bit, finally getting Dracen to realize that he wasn't really alone.
“What was that for?!” Dracen shouted at him, standing back up and facing Magnus full on.
“Dracen, how long have you been sitting here staring into that stream?” Magnus demanded. “Because Rayne has been watching you for at least two hours.”
“Rayne?” Dracen looked around Magnus, before smiling—although Magnus knew Dracen's fake smile when he saw it—and waved a claw at her. “Why isn't she over here giving me a hug and petting my mane?”
“The ice chomper, she beat you again, didn't she?” Magnus ignored his brother's ploy to make him angry. “Is that why you're here moping?”
Dracen's fake smile fell, as did his gaze, moving back to the burbling waters of the slender stream.
“No, she didn't beat me.”
“...So you feel guilty about killing a female?”
“She's not dead, either.”
“So you chased her off.”
“...No.”
Magnus really was just becoming further and further confused, but he had to admit this was a strange change in his brother and he was more than intrigued about how Dracen became this—quiet. His brother really was never direct, but usually he had much more flare and obnoxiousness thrown in along with his chatter.
“You defeated her, but didn't kill her or chase her out of your territory,” Magnus clarified. “So she decided to leave and do the opposite of her own good nature?”
“No,” Dracen sighed, sitting on his haunches.
“...So...” Magnus concluded on what little information Dracen had yielded to him. “She's not dead, she's not gone. She is...still there.”
“Right.”
“...Are you on another species conquest? I thought we were avoiding this one's tail,” Magnus asked casually, and for the first time in Magnus' life Dracen seemed to truly be bulge-eyed and panicked about something. “Have you already gotten her tail? Did something...not add up right?”
“NO!” he shouted, and if Dracen could be embarrassed, Magnus was witnessing it. What a strange reaction...and a perfect opportunity. “NOTHING LIKE THAT!”
“She's female, a dragoness and living in your lair, and you aren't trying to get under her tail? Are you ill, Dracen? Because at this moment you appear almost—embarrassed about this whole thing,” Magnus poked with his words, then poked with his wing claw for good measure. “Is that why you're hiding here? Avoiding temptation? Or afraid to loose something valuable?”
“I did NOT come here to discuss anything with YOU,” Dracen growled, pointing a claw at his brother's nose.
“Then why have you come? If not to disturb my peace of mind,” Magnus asked in a small growling of his own. Dracen shoved Magnus' shoulders with his wing claws, and Magnus shoved back, harder. Dracen rammed his head into Magnus' chest, and before Magnus knew it they were in a wrestling match like they were still younglings! Tail blades bashing heads, punching, slapping, mane pulling!
“ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT!” Rayne's voice shouted, “STOP IT! BOTH OF YOU!”
Magnus rolled off his brother with a healthy amount of grumbling, making sure to smack the sneaky little whelp a few times in the face with the flat of his tail blade as he split off and stood next to his mate, Dracen taking his stance a distance away but they locked eyes and growls.
“Don't!” Rayne reprimanded, putting a paw up and shaking it once in a threat.
“He pushed me first! On MY territory!” Magnus explained in a much more boisterous way than originally intended.
“YOU—are nearly 1,000 years old—and are still getting into trivial matches with your brother! I told you to TALK to him! NOT full on battle each other!”
“But HE started it!”
“I don't CARE!” Rayne shouted as Ryre covered his own mouth with his paws, knowing his mother's superbly peeved shout. Rayne and Magnus glowered at each other, before Magnus conceded and sat on his haunches, huffing indignantly and looking away. Rayne walked up to him and pushed Ryre onto Magnus' clawed paw, making sure to make herself clear by pointing back towards the lair when he turned to look at her.
“Rayne—”
“Go. Home. Now,” Rayne ordered in a clenched jaw manner, still pointing. “I'll be along shortly.”
What Rayne didn't see was Dracen hanging his long tongue from his open mouth and crossing his eyes like an imbecile, making Magnus growl in further warning as he placed Ryre on his shoulder.
“NOW, Magnus.”
“But he—”
“Magnus.”
His mate! Taking a standing point against his own words and judgments?! The upside being Magnus didn't have to “talk” with his brother anymore...
He best just leave, turning and heading back towards their lair and enjoying the fact he wouldn't have to try to play happy siblings. Once they were well out of Rayne's hearing, Ryre popped into his father's mane and concluded,
“Mama mad?”
“Only for a little while,” Magnus assured his son. “She'll come home mad at your uncle, and the world will be right again.”
***********************************************************************
She swore to herself she wasn't going to talk to Dracen, at least for a year or perhaps a month, she really hadn't decided. After throwing her son around like a child's toy, what more could Dracen have expected? So when she saw him looking contemplative and distraught, she didn't go seeking him out, asking what was the matter and trying to be downright glad about his misery.
She should have known better than to send Magnus down, but she was still trying to be angry at him. After the brothers little wrestling match, that luxury was no longer acceptable. Who would have known at some point in her life she wasn't afraid of literally getting in between two fighting bull dragons? Although they were acting more like children.
“Thank you for defending my honor Lady Morsel—”
She held up her paw to stop him where ever he was headed and to her shock he clamped his mouth closed. She let both her paws fall onto her waist, admittedly looking far haughtier than she really was at this point.
“You have some explaining to do,” Rayne said in her lower, quieter but still pissed off voice.
“Like I told you, Lady Morsel, Ryre asked me—”
“NOT that,” she interrupted him and motioned with her arm all around them, “This. All this, the sitting and pouting. The coming here and not pestering Magnus first chance you got.”
“I don't ALWAYS come to pester Magnus—”
She snorted outright, making Dracen's brows draw down onto his forehead.
“Tell me what's going on—NO flowery words and twisted phrases—you owe me for almost killing my son,” she dictated rather well.
“You scared me—”
“Ahh—ahh—ahh...” Rayne waved her finger at him. “Talk to me, Dracen. I don't like seeing you like this. In the four years we've known each other I've never seen you like this.”
“Like what?” he asked with a heavy huffing.
“Somber, distracted,” Rayne echoed Magnus' view. “Serious.”
“I can be serious,” Dracen pouted, leaning back up like a sitting dragon statue and crossing his arms across his chest.
“Defensive,” she added, “You, have something very troublesome bothering you and you're not hiding it well at all.”
“You are right, Rayne, as always your observational nature—”
“Don't try to change the subject to me,” she interrupted, pointing down at the ground. He sighed, heavily—honestly that must have come from their mother—but fell down on his fore limbs without shaking the ground too much and laid down on his belly, looking like a sphinx in front of Rayne. She sat down as well on the cold snow, ankles crossed in front of her and as she did with Magnus, gave Dracen her full attention. Dracen looked at the snow alongside him for a long, few moments, his wing claw playing with some of the piles of flakes before opening his mouth to speak,
“You remember the ice-breather?”
“Mmhm,” Rayne nodded to confirm with him.
“I—fought her again,” he murmured a bit, shaking his mane out and twisting his head to look up at the sky.
“I take it that didn't go so well?” she questioned, it would make sense with him being here but as she saw earlier, he wasn't really injured.
“I tricked her—into following me into my cave and pinned her to the ground easily,” Dracen explained further, reenacting the fight in his mind. “I had her, right where I wanted her, Rayne, she was my enemy, she should have paid for stealing my territory and nearly ripping my bowls open! I had her by her throat!”
“...I sense a 'but' to this story,” Rayne muttered when he stalled in his recollections.
“You are correct,” Dracen grumbled, “I couldn't kill her. My—natural instincts started to fight my mind, Rayne. Do you know what they wanted me to do?”
“That I could not tell you,” she admitted, releasing a heavy breath. “If I were taking a guess...”
She slowly raised her brows up on her black spotted forehead, which made Dracen snort in amusement, smoke coming from his nostrils.
“As much as it pains me to admit, that would be a normal response for me,” Dracen stated, “But even a beautiful dragoness pinned under me doesn't always mean anything.”
Beautiful?
“So this new instinct didn't mean anything,” Rayne inquired evenly.
“On the contrary,” he murmured as he looked back down and away. “It meant far more than killing her or trying to seduce her.”
“Dracen,” Rayne called and stopped him at the same time, “Are you telling me you've got—feelings for the tundra dragon?”
“Feelings,” he grumbled. “I have far more of those battling around in my mind then I even knew possible! Do you want to know what my natural instinct was when I had her by the throat? Not to crush it! Not to snap it! But—but—”
“To...” Rayne egged him on, becoming much more enveloped than she thought possible. It WAS Dracen after all. He didn't have relationships, he was a passing fancy, free tail chasing sort! And now he was admitting to having feelings—for a tundra dragon no less!
“Swear to me this won't go beyond us,” Dracen warned, narrowing his silver eyes on Rayne.
“I swear it,” she answered quickly, raising a paw to make it official. Dracen looked around the hibernating forest, ears quirking around listening for any evidence of sentient life to make sure this secret stayed between them. What was it?! Rayne HAD to know!
He leaned his long head forward conspiratorially and gave one last glance to check around.
“You wanted to...” Rayne stated for him when he turned his gaze on her again.
He took in a deep, cleansing breath through his nostrils, closing his eyes and finding strength to say such a thing out loud. Rayne's outer appearance was patient yet focused, but her mind wanted to demand his answer far quicker than it came.
“I wanted to kiss her,” Dracen admitted in a flurry of words, his neck pulling back as he lifted a paw towards the sky in turmoil. “My instincts are wrong! Rayne! WRONG!”
“That's—bad?” she asked, quirking a brow up at him. Rayne tried to figure out the real problem. She knew dragons seldom kissed, but she assumed it was because it wasn't easy for them. His head snapped back around to her in shocked agitation.
“Kissing is—” Dracen stalled, cleaning his throat and turning down the volume of his voice. “Very—intimate with dragons. Dragons kiss when they—say have their first egg, kill their first rival as a pair. We don't do it all the time like mortals or you and Magnus. It is a very private gesture.”
“More private than mating?” she asked curiously.
“MUCH more private,” he answered, bending his neck around anxiously.
“I can see why you would be confused,” Rayne tried to sympathize.
“I'm not confused,” Dracen mumbled defensively, “I'm just not—sure of what to do.”
“About kissing?”
“NO! About HER!” Dracen exclaimed. “I tried to leave after fighting her—but she chased me down and forced me to talk with her!”
“About the kissing?”
“No—about the running! Honestly Rayne, are you even paying attention?”
“Sorry,” she apologized with a small giggle, putting her paws up in a placid manner.
“Trying to get her to leave me alone was hard enough, but then another dragon was attracted by our bickering and nearly fried her to smolders...” Dracen growled protectively. Oh yes, he was very hooked.
“Is she alright?” Rayne questioned in her worried tones.
“I killed the other dragon, took her back to my lair,” Dracen answered while shifting nervously and looking away, “Took care of her burns I think. That's where she is now, and THAT is why I'm here.”
“Avoiding her.”
“Precisely.”
“Wow,” Rayne said in a shocked tone. “I honestly didn't think it could happen.”
“Didn't think what could happen?”
“You LIKING a girl,” she smiled devilishly.
“I've liked plenty of females,” Dracen countered with a lean of his body and a pointing digit.
“This isn't simply being attracted to someone,” Rayne announced, “This is about wanting to be intimate with someone else.”
“Well—how do I make it stop?” he demanded in an increasingly flustered tone.
“Hey don't ask me,” she answered, putting up both paws in defeat. “I'm stuck with your brother, and I don't see that ending anytime soon to give you an answer.”
“But you've been with others,” Dracen said in a hopeful voice. “Haven't you? How did you stop—the feelings for them?”
“I hate to tell you this,” Rayne muttered, “But I don't think its going to be a simple “stopping” of feelings. You've kept your distance easily before, now your—instincts are going to make you grow close this time.”
He let out a loud groan of defeat, falling over onto his side to dramatize his point.
“I don't want to be CLOSE!”
“And someday you will never want to be distant,” she clarified, which earned her another groan. “Or alone—for long periods of time. Short periods of alone time are needed.”
“I do well with long periods of time alone,” Dracen said as if trying to prove his point. “And I don't need to hear hatchling tales about all these—feelings.”
“And yet after a while, you come here or see your females—or even your mother,” Rayne argued back. “Because you like company.”
“I like to torture my father sometimes, my mother protects me from him—and this is a matter of free will, Rayne. I know you mortals don't have much of it, but we dragons practically live by it,” Dracen stated, making Rayne roll her eyes. “AND I will choose whether or not to “get close” to anything.”
“Then you're not going back to your cave?” Rayne inquired, “Seems like avoidance is the easiest way to keep from temptation.”
“She's not tempting,” He spat out still very defensive and definitely lying. “And no, I have to go back.”
“Too many lovely treasures there that you can't give up?” Rayne teased and making her eyebrows dance.
“Playful, obviously you're not mad with me anymore,” Dracen smirked, “But...I...somehow told her I would be back,” he practically whispered as his tail hammered the ground in an anxious manner.
“You...told her you would be back? And you feel the need to actually do...what you're going to say?” Rayne assumed since Dracen never lived on a time table of his own accord. “Sounds like you have loads of free will there, Dracen.”
“You know, you sit there and mock me but I still don't have the motivation to eat you,” Dracen commented as he rolled to lay on his belly casually. “Yet.”
“And that is how you know you enjoy my mockings and company,” she replied, standing up slowly, “Now don't you feel better?”
“Are we done talking, then?” he pouted a bit.
“Unlike you, your brother and apparently my son, I actually get chilled if I don't keep moving in the winter,” she answered with a little brat-like tone. “And I've been outside too long not to get cold.”
“Oh, but you could always cuddle up to me,” Dracen offered, opening an arm up and bowing his head towards her.
“Yes, I do think you're feeling better,” Rayne concluded as she started to brush the snow off of her pants and back side.
“Not even close,” the blue dragon responded. “In any case, she will most likely crush all attempts of me getting anywhere near her.”
“What makes you think that?” Rayne questioned.
“Because she really seems to enjoy telling me the several ways she'd want to murder me,” Dracen answered with a large goofy grin.
“Isn't that a showing of affection for female dragons?” Rayne offered mischievously, “See you soon, Dracen.”
“Let us hope,” Dracen grumbled. “I would hate to deprive your boring life of my presence.”
Rayne smiled up at him, patting his guard scales a few times before heading to leave.
“Just be glad I'm around to keep Magnus from killing you,” Rayne snickered.
“Because you know how much you'd miss me,” Dracen commented as Rayne followed the path Magnus had left in the deep snow.
“Then do me a favor and don't provoke him!” Rayne called over her shoulder.
“I make no promises!” Dracen called back, making Rayne laugh outright as she disappeared into the treeline. A female ice-breather and Dracen, oh what Malandra would think about that.
We learn our dear ice breather's naaaame oooooo.
If you're NEW to this series, then I would suggest starting from the beginning, which is here:
http://www.furaffinity.net/view/5918826
If you don't read through "The Dragon" and "The Mortal" you will miss out on many humorous things that are involved in this story AS WELL AS SPOILERS!!! SO MANY SPOILERS!! GO READ THOSE FIRST!
MINE.
~Angel~
<<< PREV | FIRST | NEXT >>>
_______________________________________________________________
He should have left when she was resting. He should have left her when he finished flapping all that damn snow around her, or when he moved the crates into the far corner. There were so many opportunities to leave then, and now? Now why should he care if she goes to hell or not? Even if it WAS his fault, he didn't have to stay here because SHE believed in a blood debt.
His mind was getting muddied with instincts and feelings, things he usually kept in a very particular locked away portion of his life. He definitely reserved feelings for particular situations, and female ice breathers whom he didn't even know the name of were no reason to break that rule! His instincts were telling him a dozen different things that he did not want to be made aware of, ever. Females and feelings were not to be mixed, and that was all this ice chomper caused him. Instincts he wasn't aware he was capable of flared to life around her, beckoning him to follow down a path he did NOT want to go. He wasn't going to be trapped, not like his father, not like his brother. He wouldn't let himself fall prey to that kind of—torture, responsibility, and worst of all—no he wouldn't even mention it.
He wanted to get all the hells out of there, leave behind all these ridiculous instincts and emotions and never look upon her again. He didn't even want to know her name anymore, being nameless would make it far easier for him to forget her. That what was best for both of them, for her to just exist here and him to exist elsewhere.
He had to get out, even for a few days. He had to get away from sparkling scales, a quick tongue and no name! For she brought out—needs. Not the usual needs he had for attractive dragoness' either, no, these were far more dangerous.
The need to protect for one. Who said he had to kill that silver bull? Sure, he was going to try to kill Dracen but that hadn't brought out the bull dragon in Dracen. She had. The stranger's attack on HER had, finally snapping all his logical mind was pushing against and he did not like that need at all. With that protective instinct brought on the next infernal need. Her safety. Dracen, still covered in another dragon—another of his own species blood—carried her not AWAY from, but back to his—her—the damned lair! He NEEDED to know she was safe somewhere.
And the last need, the damnedest one of all, he needed her to LIVE. HER. LIVE. He couldn't let the burn slowly consume her, the charred flesh heating her far hotter than anything one of her species could handle. He had to keep her chilled and so what did he do? Used his wings to flap the newly fallen show on the lair step into, through and upon the dragoness, making sure to bury her in it and hopefully let her own healing ability take its course.
These—needs were beyond dangerous. He barely felt the need to protect immediate family, so why would his instincts want—no—need to protect her? The nameless one? What was she but an opponent? An enemy? No. No more. He now had a new need. The need to suppress all those needs and stuff them into a locked chest then throw it into the serpents' oceans! He lived in a VERY specific way, and he intended to keep it that way! Baser instincts or no! He would not be a slave to his nature!
“What are you thinking about?” the ice chomper asked, licking up some snow to satisfy her thirst. He was staring. Again.
“What?” he shook his head rapidly.
“You have been standing there quietly for more than five minutes,” she observed, looking a little like a snake sticking out of the snow. “What are you thinking about?”
“I—have an appointment I should be leaving for,” he lied, sort of, mostly. “I am going to visit with my brother and his mate for a few days—”
“If you think I won't hunt you down after I've healed, Dracen the Talking, think again,” she warned him. He believed her, if anything she was determined.
“I will come back,” he announced, “I wouldn't want you hitting me in the back of the skull again—especially if my brother were around to witness such a feat,” he couldn't help but rub the back of his skull where the tender lump had formed, “It might give him ideas.”
“How many days before I can expect you back, then?” she questioned, making him narrow his eyes at her.
“Are you my mother?”
“Not unless intelligence skips a generation,” she answered, before snorting at her own retort, “I would like to know in case you do decide to try and out run my blood debt. Then I can be on the hunt for you.”
“I will not be the one to condemn you to ice-breather hell, I assure you,” he responded in a droll manner. “However, if I am not back within two weeks, then you can come rescue me from the perils of family which will be the only reason I've been there THAT long.”
“I will be healed by then, and if your brother holds you captive, it would make an excellent way for me to fulfill my blood debt,” she said casually, her head and neck turning placidly to the side.
“Hmm,” he hummed a bit, “I wonder if mother would forgive me...No, no. Best just maim him. Death would make mother very disagreeable.”
“In any case,” she shrugged, the only indication she did so was the snow moving up where her shoulders would be. She completely missed his playful banter and took it more as truth. “I will expect you in two weeks.”
He turned to go before he got caught in another deep philosophical debate with himself, starting to leave the bitter-cold chamber.
“Aurorianna.”
He stopped when the word reached his ears, twisting his head around sternly.
“My name,” she responded to his questioning look. “Aurorianna—most call me Rori.”
“...I will keep that in mind,” was all he could muster to say, twisting his head forward again to embark on familiar territory, familiar torturing, familiar clarity. Damn. The viper had a name now. The name wouldn't leave his memory. Damned. He was definitely damned.
***********************************************************************
Rayne was supposed to be back within an hour. Since it had nearly been two, Magnus decided to head out in search of her, Ryre currently riding on his back although he also liked to climb up into his mane and bounce around on Magnus' head. Since he didn't want to get into any trouble with his little mate, he was walking through the forest instead of flying overhead and had made sure Ryre was in at least little pants and boots. The hatchling barely tolerated those things, even in the winter weather. He followed Rayne's scent with some detours for his larger body, finding her standing against a short tree near where the forest had been destroyed some years prior, staring out at something. He frowned as Ryre popped his head out from his mane, wiggling excitedly when he saw his mother.
“Mama!” Ryre shouted, making Rayne turn and smile, but there was something amiss. Especially when she turned back around to look at what ever had her attentions. Magnus moved forward and focused down on Rayne, letting Ryre slip down his snout and crawl onto his mother's shoulder, nuzzling under her chin as she scooped him into her arms.
“What is that?” she asked, jerking her head towards the vast clearing of snow that used to be forest with trees as thick as his torso. But, oddly enough he spotted what Rayne was referring to, the large blue dragon with the black mane and silver scales settled in the snow like a perched cat. He was staring downwards into a sliver of a stream, his tail whisking back and forth and melting all the snow behind it.
“That, is Dracen,” Magnus answered in a mumble, frowning.
“I'm aware of that,” she responded, “But—he's been out there for two hours, just staring down at the water.”
“You've been watching him—for two hours?” Magnus questioned. “Don't you get cold if you sit too long?”
“At the moment that's not the point,” she sighed with deep annoyance. “The point is Dracen came into your territory...not to pester you? Or announce himself? Or spy on us? So what is that?”
“Ahh, well. That,” he pointed with his claw towards his blue scaled brother. “Is somber Dracen.”
“Huh,” she murmured, before announcing, “That's—terrifying. Isn't that an oxymoron?”
“What?”
“Somber Dracen.”
“Obviously it exists,” he replied. “He hasn't noticed you staring at him from here?”
“No,” she shook her head and kissed Ryre's forehead. “Why?”
“He should have,” Magnus declared, “I heard your heartbeat far before I could see you, and I assure you he can hear it—if he was paying attention.”
“Do you think this had to do with his lair being taken over?” Rayne questioned as she started to worry. “He doesn't look injured...not as bad as last time.”
“I have no idea. You can always ask him—”
“I think you should go talk to him,” Rayne said in a far more ordering tone. Magnus snorted smoke through his nose at her, dumb-founded with her “suggestion”. “He IS your brother.”
“Yes and that fact is the only reason I haven't killed him yet. He has given me far MORE reasons to do so mind you—”
“You're his brother, he looks upset. Go and see why,” Rayne looked up at him with a stern glare, Ryre beginning to chew on her braid coyly. Magnus groaned, casting his eyes back onto his brother and lowering his head in defeat. He lumbered, dragged his tail, did everything but stomp his back claw like a hatchling on the way to his brother but none of that seemed to catch Dracen's attention. His annoyance waned, he hadn't been able to sneak up on his brother since Dracen was under a century. Now Magnus was deliberately making a scene and Dracen wasn't even twitching an ear in his direction?
He stopped close to Dracen although out of his swinging tail's way, giving him a few moments to see if his brother would acknowledge his presence. No such luck.
“Dracen,” Magnus called.
“Hm?” Dracen grunted at him.
“What are you doing?” Magnus asked first, walking around his brother to be able to see his head.
“Mmhm,” Dracen responded without even blinking. Magnus quirked one of his brows high, looking to Rayne and lifting his paw while shrugging to tell her of his defeat but she wasn't having it, urging him with a flicking of her paw back at his brother. Magnus rolled his eyes but went back to the problem of his pouting brother. Now how to get his attention...
Magnus grabbed his brother by one of his horns and shook his head vigorously, making sure not to let go until Dracen started to grab at his claw and try to bat him off. Magnus shoved his brother's head back and watched him roll a bit, finally getting Dracen to realize that he wasn't really alone.
“What was that for?!” Dracen shouted at him, standing back up and facing Magnus full on.
“Dracen, how long have you been sitting here staring into that stream?” Magnus demanded. “Because Rayne has been watching you for at least two hours.”
“Rayne?” Dracen looked around Magnus, before smiling—although Magnus knew Dracen's fake smile when he saw it—and waved a claw at her. “Why isn't she over here giving me a hug and petting my mane?”
“The ice chomper, she beat you again, didn't she?” Magnus ignored his brother's ploy to make him angry. “Is that why you're here moping?”
Dracen's fake smile fell, as did his gaze, moving back to the burbling waters of the slender stream.
“No, she didn't beat me.”
“...So you feel guilty about killing a female?”
“She's not dead, either.”
“So you chased her off.”
“...No.”
Magnus really was just becoming further and further confused, but he had to admit this was a strange change in his brother and he was more than intrigued about how Dracen became this—quiet. His brother really was never direct, but usually he had much more flare and obnoxiousness thrown in along with his chatter.
“You defeated her, but didn't kill her or chase her out of your territory,” Magnus clarified. “So she decided to leave and do the opposite of her own good nature?”
“No,” Dracen sighed, sitting on his haunches.
“...So...” Magnus concluded on what little information Dracen had yielded to him. “She's not dead, she's not gone. She is...still there.”
“Right.”
“...Are you on another species conquest? I thought we were avoiding this one's tail,” Magnus asked casually, and for the first time in Magnus' life Dracen seemed to truly be bulge-eyed and panicked about something. “Have you already gotten her tail? Did something...not add up right?”
“NO!” he shouted, and if Dracen could be embarrassed, Magnus was witnessing it. What a strange reaction...and a perfect opportunity. “NOTHING LIKE THAT!”
“She's female, a dragoness and living in your lair, and you aren't trying to get under her tail? Are you ill, Dracen? Because at this moment you appear almost—embarrassed about this whole thing,” Magnus poked with his words, then poked with his wing claw for good measure. “Is that why you're hiding here? Avoiding temptation? Or afraid to loose something valuable?”
“I did NOT come here to discuss anything with YOU,” Dracen growled, pointing a claw at his brother's nose.
“Then why have you come? If not to disturb my peace of mind,” Magnus asked in a small growling of his own. Dracen shoved Magnus' shoulders with his wing claws, and Magnus shoved back, harder. Dracen rammed his head into Magnus' chest, and before Magnus knew it they were in a wrestling match like they were still younglings! Tail blades bashing heads, punching, slapping, mane pulling!
“ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT!” Rayne's voice shouted, “STOP IT! BOTH OF YOU!”
Magnus rolled off his brother with a healthy amount of grumbling, making sure to smack the sneaky little whelp a few times in the face with the flat of his tail blade as he split off and stood next to his mate, Dracen taking his stance a distance away but they locked eyes and growls.
“Don't!” Rayne reprimanded, putting a paw up and shaking it once in a threat.
“He pushed me first! On MY territory!” Magnus explained in a much more boisterous way than originally intended.
“YOU—are nearly 1,000 years old—and are still getting into trivial matches with your brother! I told you to TALK to him! NOT full on battle each other!”
“But HE started it!”
“I don't CARE!” Rayne shouted as Ryre covered his own mouth with his paws, knowing his mother's superbly peeved shout. Rayne and Magnus glowered at each other, before Magnus conceded and sat on his haunches, huffing indignantly and looking away. Rayne walked up to him and pushed Ryre onto Magnus' clawed paw, making sure to make herself clear by pointing back towards the lair when he turned to look at her.
“Rayne—”
“Go. Home. Now,” Rayne ordered in a clenched jaw manner, still pointing. “I'll be along shortly.”
What Rayne didn't see was Dracen hanging his long tongue from his open mouth and crossing his eyes like an imbecile, making Magnus growl in further warning as he placed Ryre on his shoulder.
“NOW, Magnus.”
“But he—”
“Magnus.”
His mate! Taking a standing point against his own words and judgments?! The upside being Magnus didn't have to “talk” with his brother anymore...
He best just leave, turning and heading back towards their lair and enjoying the fact he wouldn't have to try to play happy siblings. Once they were well out of Rayne's hearing, Ryre popped into his father's mane and concluded,
“Mama mad?”
“Only for a little while,” Magnus assured his son. “She'll come home mad at your uncle, and the world will be right again.”
***********************************************************************
She swore to herself she wasn't going to talk to Dracen, at least for a year or perhaps a month, she really hadn't decided. After throwing her son around like a child's toy, what more could Dracen have expected? So when she saw him looking contemplative and distraught, she didn't go seeking him out, asking what was the matter and trying to be downright glad about his misery.
She should have known better than to send Magnus down, but she was still trying to be angry at him. After the brothers little wrestling match, that luxury was no longer acceptable. Who would have known at some point in her life she wasn't afraid of literally getting in between two fighting bull dragons? Although they were acting more like children.
“Thank you for defending my honor Lady Morsel—”
She held up her paw to stop him where ever he was headed and to her shock he clamped his mouth closed. She let both her paws fall onto her waist, admittedly looking far haughtier than she really was at this point.
“You have some explaining to do,” Rayne said in her lower, quieter but still pissed off voice.
“Like I told you, Lady Morsel, Ryre asked me—”
“NOT that,” she interrupted him and motioned with her arm all around them, “This. All this, the sitting and pouting. The coming here and not pestering Magnus first chance you got.”
“I don't ALWAYS come to pester Magnus—”
She snorted outright, making Dracen's brows draw down onto his forehead.
“Tell me what's going on—NO flowery words and twisted phrases—you owe me for almost killing my son,” she dictated rather well.
“You scared me—”
“Ahh—ahh—ahh...” Rayne waved her finger at him. “Talk to me, Dracen. I don't like seeing you like this. In the four years we've known each other I've never seen you like this.”
“Like what?” he asked with a heavy huffing.
“Somber, distracted,” Rayne echoed Magnus' view. “Serious.”
“I can be serious,” Dracen pouted, leaning back up like a sitting dragon statue and crossing his arms across his chest.
“Defensive,” she added, “You, have something very troublesome bothering you and you're not hiding it well at all.”
“You are right, Rayne, as always your observational nature—”
“Don't try to change the subject to me,” she interrupted, pointing down at the ground. He sighed, heavily—honestly that must have come from their mother—but fell down on his fore limbs without shaking the ground too much and laid down on his belly, looking like a sphinx in front of Rayne. She sat down as well on the cold snow, ankles crossed in front of her and as she did with Magnus, gave Dracen her full attention. Dracen looked at the snow alongside him for a long, few moments, his wing claw playing with some of the piles of flakes before opening his mouth to speak,
“You remember the ice-breather?”
“Mmhm,” Rayne nodded to confirm with him.
“I—fought her again,” he murmured a bit, shaking his mane out and twisting his head to look up at the sky.
“I take it that didn't go so well?” she questioned, it would make sense with him being here but as she saw earlier, he wasn't really injured.
“I tricked her—into following me into my cave and pinned her to the ground easily,” Dracen explained further, reenacting the fight in his mind. “I had her, right where I wanted her, Rayne, she was my enemy, she should have paid for stealing my territory and nearly ripping my bowls open! I had her by her throat!”
“...I sense a 'but' to this story,” Rayne muttered when he stalled in his recollections.
“You are correct,” Dracen grumbled, “I couldn't kill her. My—natural instincts started to fight my mind, Rayne. Do you know what they wanted me to do?”
“That I could not tell you,” she admitted, releasing a heavy breath. “If I were taking a guess...”
She slowly raised her brows up on her black spotted forehead, which made Dracen snort in amusement, smoke coming from his nostrils.
“As much as it pains me to admit, that would be a normal response for me,” Dracen stated, “But even a beautiful dragoness pinned under me doesn't always mean anything.”
Beautiful?
“So this new instinct didn't mean anything,” Rayne inquired evenly.
“On the contrary,” he murmured as he looked back down and away. “It meant far more than killing her or trying to seduce her.”
“Dracen,” Rayne called and stopped him at the same time, “Are you telling me you've got—feelings for the tundra dragon?”
“Feelings,” he grumbled. “I have far more of those battling around in my mind then I even knew possible! Do you want to know what my natural instinct was when I had her by the throat? Not to crush it! Not to snap it! But—but—”
“To...” Rayne egged him on, becoming much more enveloped than she thought possible. It WAS Dracen after all. He didn't have relationships, he was a passing fancy, free tail chasing sort! And now he was admitting to having feelings—for a tundra dragon no less!
“Swear to me this won't go beyond us,” Dracen warned, narrowing his silver eyes on Rayne.
“I swear it,” she answered quickly, raising a paw to make it official. Dracen looked around the hibernating forest, ears quirking around listening for any evidence of sentient life to make sure this secret stayed between them. What was it?! Rayne HAD to know!
He leaned his long head forward conspiratorially and gave one last glance to check around.
“You wanted to...” Rayne stated for him when he turned his gaze on her again.
He took in a deep, cleansing breath through his nostrils, closing his eyes and finding strength to say such a thing out loud. Rayne's outer appearance was patient yet focused, but her mind wanted to demand his answer far quicker than it came.
“I wanted to kiss her,” Dracen admitted in a flurry of words, his neck pulling back as he lifted a paw towards the sky in turmoil. “My instincts are wrong! Rayne! WRONG!”
“That's—bad?” she asked, quirking a brow up at him. Rayne tried to figure out the real problem. She knew dragons seldom kissed, but she assumed it was because it wasn't easy for them. His head snapped back around to her in shocked agitation.
“Kissing is—” Dracen stalled, cleaning his throat and turning down the volume of his voice. “Very—intimate with dragons. Dragons kiss when they—say have their first egg, kill their first rival as a pair. We don't do it all the time like mortals or you and Magnus. It is a very private gesture.”
“More private than mating?” she asked curiously.
“MUCH more private,” he answered, bending his neck around anxiously.
“I can see why you would be confused,” Rayne tried to sympathize.
“I'm not confused,” Dracen mumbled defensively, “I'm just not—sure of what to do.”
“About kissing?”
“NO! About HER!” Dracen exclaimed. “I tried to leave after fighting her—but she chased me down and forced me to talk with her!”
“About the kissing?”
“No—about the running! Honestly Rayne, are you even paying attention?”
“Sorry,” she apologized with a small giggle, putting her paws up in a placid manner.
“Trying to get her to leave me alone was hard enough, but then another dragon was attracted by our bickering and nearly fried her to smolders...” Dracen growled protectively. Oh yes, he was very hooked.
“Is she alright?” Rayne questioned in her worried tones.
“I killed the other dragon, took her back to my lair,” Dracen answered while shifting nervously and looking away, “Took care of her burns I think. That's where she is now, and THAT is why I'm here.”
“Avoiding her.”
“Precisely.”
“Wow,” Rayne said in a shocked tone. “I honestly didn't think it could happen.”
“Didn't think what could happen?”
“You LIKING a girl,” she smiled devilishly.
“I've liked plenty of females,” Dracen countered with a lean of his body and a pointing digit.
“This isn't simply being attracted to someone,” Rayne announced, “This is about wanting to be intimate with someone else.”
“Well—how do I make it stop?” he demanded in an increasingly flustered tone.
“Hey don't ask me,” she answered, putting up both paws in defeat. “I'm stuck with your brother, and I don't see that ending anytime soon to give you an answer.”
“But you've been with others,” Dracen said in a hopeful voice. “Haven't you? How did you stop—the feelings for them?”
“I hate to tell you this,” Rayne muttered, “But I don't think its going to be a simple “stopping” of feelings. You've kept your distance easily before, now your—instincts are going to make you grow close this time.”
He let out a loud groan of defeat, falling over onto his side to dramatize his point.
“I don't want to be CLOSE!”
“And someday you will never want to be distant,” she clarified, which earned her another groan. “Or alone—for long periods of time. Short periods of alone time are needed.”
“I do well with long periods of time alone,” Dracen said as if trying to prove his point. “And I don't need to hear hatchling tales about all these—feelings.”
“And yet after a while, you come here or see your females—or even your mother,” Rayne argued back. “Because you like company.”
“I like to torture my father sometimes, my mother protects me from him—and this is a matter of free will, Rayne. I know you mortals don't have much of it, but we dragons practically live by it,” Dracen stated, making Rayne roll her eyes. “AND I will choose whether or not to “get close” to anything.”
“Then you're not going back to your cave?” Rayne inquired, “Seems like avoidance is the easiest way to keep from temptation.”
“She's not tempting,” He spat out still very defensive and definitely lying. “And no, I have to go back.”
“Too many lovely treasures there that you can't give up?” Rayne teased and making her eyebrows dance.
“Playful, obviously you're not mad with me anymore,” Dracen smirked, “But...I...somehow told her I would be back,” he practically whispered as his tail hammered the ground in an anxious manner.
“You...told her you would be back? And you feel the need to actually do...what you're going to say?” Rayne assumed since Dracen never lived on a time table of his own accord. “Sounds like you have loads of free will there, Dracen.”
“You know, you sit there and mock me but I still don't have the motivation to eat you,” Dracen commented as he rolled to lay on his belly casually. “Yet.”
“And that is how you know you enjoy my mockings and company,” she replied, standing up slowly, “Now don't you feel better?”
“Are we done talking, then?” he pouted a bit.
“Unlike you, your brother and apparently my son, I actually get chilled if I don't keep moving in the winter,” she answered with a little brat-like tone. “And I've been outside too long not to get cold.”
“Oh, but you could always cuddle up to me,” Dracen offered, opening an arm up and bowing his head towards her.
“Yes, I do think you're feeling better,” Rayne concluded as she started to brush the snow off of her pants and back side.
“Not even close,” the blue dragon responded. “In any case, she will most likely crush all attempts of me getting anywhere near her.”
“What makes you think that?” Rayne questioned.
“Because she really seems to enjoy telling me the several ways she'd want to murder me,” Dracen answered with a large goofy grin.
“Isn't that a showing of affection for female dragons?” Rayne offered mischievously, “See you soon, Dracen.”
“Let us hope,” Dracen grumbled. “I would hate to deprive your boring life of my presence.”
Rayne smiled up at him, patting his guard scales a few times before heading to leave.
“Just be glad I'm around to keep Magnus from killing you,” Rayne snickered.
“Because you know how much you'd miss me,” Dracen commented as Rayne followed the path Magnus had left in the deep snow.
“Then do me a favor and don't provoke him!” Rayne called over her shoulder.
“I make no promises!” Dracen called back, making Rayne laugh outright as she disappeared into the treeline. A female ice-breather and Dracen, oh what Malandra would think about that.
Category Story / Fantasy
Species Dragon (Other)
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 76.5 kB
Listed in Folders
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