Even Villains Give Happy Endings (Final Chapter (4))
#4 of Even Villains Give Happy Endings
Chapter 4: Happy to See You
The violent rumblings of the cart finally woke up Victor as he ascended up through the ramshackle streets of an unfamiliar land. A wire and cloth roof greeted his eyes as they slowly opened, the rousing sounds becoming more prominent and clear. The commotion was barely a stride away from the vehicle.
As he attempted to sit up, the wolf realized he was wound in rope from the top of his shoulders, down to his knees. It was nothing new but the fiber coat was still unfamiliar to him as the days passed, feeling tighter and more elaborate the further the trio went along. Still, he struggled against the restraints, much to the annoyance of the serpent that rested beside him, glaring at him and rubbing at the wound he left in her neck, horridly blackened.
"You're lucky she wants you. I would've happily crushed your bones." The guard said to him, sliding her tail around his ankles, playfully tightening around them.
"Germaine." The other driving the carriage spoke up, using her arm strength to rotate a wheel in order to propel the cart forward. "It's your turn, and don't antagonize the subject."
The burnt coiler scoffed, slithering towards the front. Their companion sat Victor up before settling beside him, being closer than the other, trying to appear non threatening but the wolf still remembered the burns that somehow dug through his fur and singed his bare skin in an instant. The pain from those burns persisted for the first few days as they traveled south from wherever he could tell. As opposed to her sister in arms, this scaled warrior was merely bruised and fatigued, bearing the brunt of his escape attempts just days prior.
Many details of their travel disappeared upon slumber and recollected upon waking. They had been out on this trek for three weeks. A tea greeted his lips before he slept, something that somehow fed him but also kept his mind unfocused. They traversed snow caps for five days, a lush green jungle path for six, and now they appeared to be in the desert for two days and counting. These glances at the world were only possible when the guards would have to take the burly fur out to stretch his legs and answer the call of nature.
"Try not to mind the noise." The bruised snake said. "We're passing through a village that established itself as sovereign from the Empress. They're simply prone to attack anything that comes through that's not them."
"Why though?" The partially singed wolf replied. "What'd she do to them?"
"Changed things. They didn't approve of her manipulations. However," She paused to offer Victor part of the meager fruit bits they had aboard the cart. "I feel she should explain that, not me. I can assure you we'll be fine."
"Sounds like a lot of people out there though."
The guard gave a small giggle. "Indeed, but they're scared of scale ridden folk like Ger and I."
"This is common?" Victor took the small cube of what he guessed was an apple with his teeth before swallowing it, not enough time to properly regret the taste.
"We barely existed in this kingdom until her Highness was in charge."
"You make her sound like an ido-"
A flurry of heat and shrapnel erupted in front of their cart, with the driver screaming to hold on, with her companion pulling a switch in the cart and bringing out a second set of the rotating mechanism from a trap door hatch, pumping as hard as she could, flinging the vehicle at a high velocity. The transparency of the cloth adorning the cart showed a mob of horn bearing furs chasing the cart and chanting:
"Death to the empress!"
"Bury their bodies in the Glasslands!"
"Scaled Demons!"
Turning forward, a wooden gate that led out of the village started closing on the trio. Germaine craned her head backwards before hacking up a mass of red liquid, only a few shades lighter than blood. The thick liquid coated the door and immediately melted away the wood, not even sparing the splinters and chunks as it fell apart, finally disappearing as it soaked and scarred the stone roads. The bull guards upon the city's walls and planted upon the door's hinges cowered upon seeing the effort of craftsmanship disintegrate in mere seconds.
The vehicle blazed through the archway and slid into the desert wasteland that accompanied the rest of the region. As soon as they were sure that the villagers wouldn't come after them anymore, they stopped pedaling.
"Too scared to attack, huh?" Victor broke the silence with a mocking tone.
"MOST of the time." The guard replied with a hiss. She turned to Germaine before uttering a message in language that Victor couldn't understand. The wolf only gathered that it was an actual message when Germaine replied in the same hushed sounds and flapping of the tongue.
"I guess serpents still speak in Settler tongue." Victor simply stated, adjusting himself and resting against the cart wall. "Back in Sarengound, no one ever seemed to do that."
"That's because settling and never traveling was sort of Mari and I's thing, wolfy." Germaine replied from the front, starting to slowly pedal again.
"But this wonderful kingdom you're taking me to is giving you the opportunity to traverse grand distances just to capture one random wolf?"
"I'd happily leave you in the Glasslands if I could." Germaine spat back, turning her head but still furiously peddling.
"The Empress deems you important." Mari quietly added. "And if we left you to die and she found out, she would exile us and then send less understanding servants."
"Servants that would end you for the flesh necklace you gave me." The other added with a raised tone and metaphorical fire in their voice.
"Anyways." Mari sighed, bringing out a porcelain cup from her bag, a small pouch of water out of many and a pair of jade leaves. "It's time for your tea. It's going to be a long trek across the desert." Putting all the ingredients in the cup, she held it close to her mouth, letting out a small flame to heat up its contents.
"And if I don't want to today?" The wolf replied.
"I could let Germaine knock you out again like in the jungle."
"She had to restrain me before I could do more." Germaine chimed in.
He cursed to himself wondering how he could forget that experience. Pretty sure that since he was a fairly big lad, she wanted to try dropping him from a tree instead of merely knocking his lights out with a punch. Rolling his eyes and relenting, he let Mari hold the cup up to his lips and pour the terrible tasting drink down his throat. With her slender and scale-ridden fingers holding up the cup, he was tempted to move in a way to gnash off those digits with his teeth. He was hopefully so close to home that he could make his way without the two serpents, but chances of success were low with this bondage.
The idea of the Gigalon breaking the surface and consuming them all also came across his mind, even during the scenario in which he ran away successfully, but considering that there was life in these Glasslands made the idea shrivel away. Consciousness faded and dreams came into prominence as he wondered what Marco was doing, maybe he should have given the date a chance, but every optimistic scenario imagined back at Incantau reminded him that he wanted to be back at Sarengound to solve the one mystery he couldn't handle leaving unresolved.
If I make it out of this alive, maybe I give Fiona a chance. But I'm burying Anya if I ever find what they made of her.
What Victor was greeted when waking from another tea induced slumber was not at all what he was expecting: a cell with white walls and red candle lanterns. Clasping his hand over his nose, he suspected poison or hallucination from the wax, but that assumption was dropped when he noticed the holes present in the door locking him in. The exit was made of finely chiseled stone, with horizontal bars penetrating the rock and giving small view holes into the hall outside which seemed to be composed of even more holding units.
Turning around, a small window decorated the back of his cell but was reinforced by small metal bars in all directions. The view it offered though made the wolf stare with his mouth agape, marveling at the streets that shined white, the houses that stood out from one another in color and structure, and the towers that provided light and banners of the same insignia he saw the serpents bearing.
Is this really Sarengound? Everything was different yet the same, the template was familiar, but what was contained within looked new. The ridges on the side of the mountain that would lead to the drop in the Glasslands, the gradual slope to the Flooded District that occasionally dripped dramatically in elevation, and the train tracks were even in the same place. The cars that inhabited those tracks however were going much slower and didn't have as many ramshackle and improvised designs, appearing as absolute red cells and white containers more than desperate concoctions of metal, wood and plastic. It feels like home, but...
The insignia in this context derailed his thoughts, and was quickly dashed as an increasingly concerning sight took center stage. From down the hill that would've led to the formerly Flooded District came a series of trolleys and primed catapults. As the wolf realized where they were aiming, he broke out into a not so cold sweat and screamed for the guards.
Possible escape? Maybe.
Possibility of getting crushed to death or being set ablaze by the hay blanketing the massive boulder? Very fucking likely.
His howls went unanswered and were even suppressed by the sound of the boulders crashing into the white castle walls; showers of rock pelting and shattering the tiles of the district roads below. Two boulders came and crashed into Victor's holding cell, breaking his windowed wall apart and letting a third boulder fly in and bust the cell door off the hinges. The action however left the boulder stuck in the stretched door frame, and before the prisoner could think of crawling into the small space between the top of the frame and the smooth projectile, the ground beneath his feet crumbled completely, flinging the wolf into a rock slide that barely kept him glued to the castle walls. Panicking, he extended his claws and attempted to pierce the stone exterior. Success came for a mere second before his weight yanked the nail out, from the wall and of two of his fingers, finally plummeting to the ground with his back.
Licking the wounds on his fingers, he slowly rolled onto his front, whimpering and groaning. Crawling away, he hid himself in rows of greenery that surrounded the castle, watching through the spaces between branches at the raging mass of furs ascending towards the castle. Pulling himself further, the wolf managed to make it to one corner or the castle with one paw, looking back and barely being able to hear their protests over the ringing in his ears. The catapults were set at the top of the hill, less than twenty feet away from the monolithic structure, sending more rubble flying, the crowd calloused to the danger they were equally imposing on themselves.
As more of the prison wall fell, the wolf's hearing came back into focus, only to hear similar chants to those he heard back in the Glasslands settlement.
"There she is!" A bull at the front of the crowd screamed, a figure clad in black and red armor appeared from the highest tower, their face obscured and deformed by a strange helmet that stretched in the back like a tail pointing skywards, decorated with runes and yellow stones. The hole in their helmet only gave enough away to show teeth shining dimly before a concentrated blast of green flame was cast, setting ablaze the boulder throwing mechanisms and a few of the dedicated defenders.
"Spears!" The bull rallied once more. The steadfast that remained raised their arms, with their enemy replying in kind, raising their hands and tilting their head back. The yellow stones in their helm ground to dust and disappeared, with that color appearing as an expansive cloud of dust after it thrust its arms forwards to the crowd. The gas spread as fast as a flooding rapid, overwhelming the opposition and making them all collapse to the ground. A deep and horrific roar came from the figure's being, triggering the ringing in Victor's ears once again. They disappeared into the tower again, that stone trembling noise summoning the guards to pick up the protesters and throw them all into a cart similar to, but much bigger, than the one the wolf came in on.
_I don't know what's going on, but I guess I can go in the castle on my own terms now. _The cart was slowly moving down the hill towards the lower districts, with townspeople exiting their homes and looking at the mass of bodies before bowing their heads to the soldiers. Some even cheered and made their devotion to the empress heard.
Picking up a mace left by the bull, Victor pitched it into the cracks left in the wall and pulled himself up, using his unharmed hand as the second pick. A hole in the wall residing two floors below his holding cell served as his entrance, barely enough room for his body to go through. Best to get in before the locals see and have the guards on me again.
The second floor of this shining abode was pitch black compared to the fourth floor prison sector he resided in mere minutes ago. Eyes adjusting, some strange features defined the room: structures on the corners of the room imitated a mess of serpentine motifs with faces and orifices decorating the stone scales, three sets of marble basilisk hides riding over each other and twisting tightly like rope. The central pillars however were controlled in comparison, starting straight and curving slightly before they met the ceiling, appearing closer to ribs than anything else.
Pushing through a door on the other side, the strange architecture continued, with the pillars straying further from the center. A pedestal took center stage in the blackness, with vague shapes and somewhat familiar objects dotting the walls of the room. The pedestal held a blue orb and as Victor approached the curious object, it levitated several feet in the air before dispensing a great light upon its entire surroundings. Faint white and blue revealed the old training gear that he and Anya used in the olden days, now bearing marks of abuse: holes that would've gushed splinters and chunks of wood and burns that discolored every mechanism and weapon. Even the pillars wore marks of flame, the charcoal texture painting over the stone artistry.
Victor sighed before moving onward. It is home, but where are you, Anya?
A set of spiral stairs came into view, where the darkness took domain once more. Ascending to the third floor, the halls were finally lit by the same objects that resided down below, inhabiting the center, top and bottom of every pillar. There were doorways on either side of the room, and he decided to move towards the one that was farther away from the destroyed wall of the castle, suspecting the guards or leader would be looking for him there.
As soon as he passed through the door, a metal gate slammed behind him, sealing it off. The floor, once whole and unassuming, dropped to a mere sliver, only holding enough space for one to shimmy across. Pendulum blades marked every ten feet, with the missing floor providing an endless abyss to fall into. The wolf cursed to himself, tempted to scream out loud. They wanted him alive for something earlier but he couldn't take that chance, he doesn't know if his liveliness would remain after today. Same with what I'm attempting here, but burn me for all I care now.
A deep breath.
Should be a consistent pace, no surprises, no rushing.
A few steps forward, the first blade mere inches from his nose. A few more, turning backwards, the curved edge catching onto the mace that was dangling from his paw. The force propelled him one direction ever so slightly.
_Losing balance, it's not letting go. _
Didn't attempt to pull the mace out of the blade's grip, letting it go and quickly stepping forwards to stumble and regain his footing.
Another deep breath. Stumbling forwards, the second blade is passed. Halfway there, the door on the other side slowly starts to lower the metal gate.
_Trying to tempt me to rush. _
Planting his feet firmly, he eyed the individual rhythm of the remaining blades.
_Fuck it! I have no choice! _
Hopping, sprinting and regaining control a dozen times, a final leap was made towards the wooden door, half obscured by the falling gate. His shoulder and head shattered the wood, sending him flying through. The teeth of the gate scratched one of his ankles, decorating the floor with some of his blood but the wolf paid it no mind as he ascended the next set of spiral stairs.
A long hall full of knights greeted him, armored furs that ranged in sizes and species, not being the same uniformed serpents he saw beforehand. They marched in formation down the hallway, failing to notice the battered wolf as he hid himself by going prone a few steps down. Glass pane windows decorated the far wall, displaying a few familiar sights to the wolf that tore at his patience.
_The mound in the lake. _The landmark he traversed through with his friend.
As the guards entered through a doorway and rounded a corner, he walked up to the window and glanced out towards the lavish courtyard it resided over, with flowers of purple, yellow, green, blue and red. The hallways formed a rectangular vestibule contrasting to the full castle sectors he escaped from. The ceiling of the courtyard was in plain view from the glass, a raised affair with the same coiling stone as the darkest abodes.
"Oh there you are." A feminine voice came before the ceiling opened up from his eyes, shifting the individual blocks and bringing forth a pale white hand with black claw tips. Clambering for a weapon he didn't have, the hand encapsulated his entire torso and the top half of his legs. The pearl fingers pulled him through the ceiling, moving individual blocks of stone and lines of plaster to the side as his body approached. Upon looking back at the vestibule floor, the stones that first moved then reassembled and sealed themselves as if they'd never been touched. A blinding light obscured the wrist and arm of the captor, but mystery remained for only a few minutes as the wolf shifted skyward, then right towards the courtyard, watching the coiled stone move aside as well, defying the gravity that would rightfully pull them to the flowerbeds, and then upwards once more, his exit in view as the stones of this higher floor separated and formed like a flower blooming. The hand pulled him through this means of ingress and let him fall gently as the stone block flower closed up to resemble a path once more.
Rising to his feet quickly, he reached out with his hands before retracting them, elated but unsure, happy but fearful. "Anya..."
There she sat, on an object that could only be called a throne: marble carving imitation of an old tree, with the stump serving as the seat while the extensive branches and leaves were meticulously pushing above the backrest and into the ceiling, almost as thick and whole as a wall in itself. The armored one that quelled the attack rested without a host on a rack next to her seat.
The familiar dragon stood from her throne, wearing what could charitably be called a dress: a red and white stitching of cloth that split down the middle of her chest, only keeping the two sides together with a few small strands crisscrossed from her neck down to her waist. Her legs and tail however were obscured by a long skirt that cut off at the ankles. Scars painted the formerly flawless jade midriff and her pale hands and arms.
Mere inches from the one she wanted more than anything, he stepped back, tears welling up in his eyes while clenching his fists. "How do I know if it's you?"
She held her breath, grinding her teeth together. "Why would it be anyone else?"
"I don't know!" He clutched onto his head, shaking it back and forth to believe his eyes. "Believe me, I wanted to see you, I wanted to believe that you were still alive, but part of me believes you're not here or you're at least being something you're not."
"You're referring to the rebellion..." She sheepishly answered. "I'm sorry you had to see that today, and I was hoping there was a way I could tell you later."
"Well I'm here now, so explain. What's going on and what happened to you and I a year ago."
The dragon sighed, looking downwards. "When we were separated at that door, I found the artifact. It was real after all." Raising her hands towards the marble tree that supported her throne, the top layer shattered and revealed the black glass structure, with its horrid and ever staring orange eye focused on the pair. Closing her palm, the layer restored itself.
Victor's mouth was agape upon seeing the eye before returning his gaze to Anya.
"When I touched it, I saw that this artifact, this misshapen remainder of a monolith only responds in kind to what it sees as the creators of this world."
"Creators? Dragons and serpents?" That would explain Mari, Germaine and the others.
"Yes." Anya simply replied, looking deep into Victor's eyes, a frown evident to come. "And when I connected with it, it didn't want you there. You weren't a creator to it, and sought to see you go. Turned to ash like the ones who touched the monolith stone before, disfiguring it into what we found."
"Which caused the Undoing." The wolf replied, realizing he never did hear anything about the ones who discovered the rumored miracle stone.
The dragon nodded her head. "I panicked but once I knew how to exert some power, I thought of the talk we had earlier that day, about sledding together. I was afraid we'd never get to do that."
Victor almost giggled upon hearing that, tempted to move closer to her. "That would explain why I woke up with a foot of snow surrounding me."
Her tone suddenly turned bitter. "And I never knew if you were still alive, I kept your things." Another wave of her hand conjured up the rucksack he brought with him that day, with the paste seal broken. "So I searched for a few months, not knowing if I actually sent you to where snow lied. I never saw your ashes so I didn't stop."
"I'm...sorry. I would have come myself if I knew how to get back."
She turned her back and walked towards the oaken throne once more, pointing to the branches that spread to the ceiling, spouting and carving out scales. "According to the monolith, I was a creator, descended from the dragons whose flames formed the stone of the world, and the serpents were helpers in our journey, formers of the rivers."
"Do you genuinely believe that?" _I never pictured you believing in deities. _
"It doesn't matter if I do." Her tone implied an apathy to her position. "I was given the ability to craft this place, I made life better for people here."
"Then why are there people trying to destroy you? And why are there settlements in the Glasslands?" He stepped up towards Anya, his grip loosening but his suspicion barely holding until this question.
"There were..." A tired sigh escaped her lips as she turned. "Unfortunate accidents when I first came to use my powers. Half of the Central Sect was destroyed by shifting masses of land and the High Rise replaced it in time, making this mountain shorter than before and less inhabited."
"And what of the rebels? What will you do to them?"
"They'll be banished." She said with no inflection in her tone. "And I'll provide them a map to the biggest settlement out there. They can figure it out." She walked over to the right wall of the throne room and waved her hand in one direction, a map carved itself into the marble, showing the mountain as a riveted bump and the settlement miles away as a flickering red flame. "The first defectors reside out there. First it was a riot and some bystanders got their homes burned and I told them to leave. So they did, and then their children and friends that stayed did the same weeks later. This attack was in response to the recent changes around here and some propagandists claiming I incinerated them." She went on to explain with a downcast glance how she was forced to stay in the kingdom to quell the rebellions and protect the ones who were getting hurt in the crossfire, serpentine guards scouring the lands for him and turning up with nothing. A month went by just being cooped up within the castle's walls, being driven mad, desperate and lonely. The guards found the rumored Central Plain in a civil war and scoured through the rubble and cemeteries for any confirmation of his presence. Mari and Germaine traveled upwards for several months until they found snow, sneaking through villages and finding nothing until that one fateful night.
"Your soldier gals also set fire to an entire village." Victor said, imagining the aftermath that Incantau had to deal with, if it survived at all.
"You didn't go willingly." Anya replied with a small furrow in her brow.
"They didn't give me any reason to trust them. Armored killers that tell me they want me for the empress, you're telling me that sounds safe and dandy?"
Anya bared her teeth. "I didn't think they'd be that vague with you. They only obscured my name to protect me...probably." Her tone dropped to weary uncertainty before she looked back up dejected. "I'm sorry that happened, but things can be fixed, right? You're here now, aren't you? The way it's supposed to be?"
"The way it's supposed to be?" His tone raised in surprise. "With people getting hurt, getting dragged across a continent and barely being able to recognize or feel you with that monstrosity behind your throne?!"
"So what?!" Slamming her foot on the ground, the tiles beneath Victor's feet erected themselves rapidly, throwing him off balance and falling back first onto the ground. "You want to turn on me as well?! After all I've tried to do, I never asked anyone to sacrifice anything for me. This castle was made by this magic, not by the blood, sweat and tears of the people. This kingdom is the best result after what we did!"
Victor picked himself up and stared down his friend. "You're just as reckless as ever."
A curl of her fist erected walls in front of every entrance and exit in the room.
"And you're not leaving."
Terrified as he was at what she was doing, he gave off a quick chuckle before remarking. "Somebody wants a dojo rematch?"
A devilish smile appeared for a moment before she conjured up the staves from that day and charged forwards with an overhead strike. Victor grabbed the staff with his bare paw before yanking with as much force as he could muster, pulling Anya off of her feet and prompting a cry of surprise as she let go of the weapon and flew towards the wall, using her hands to cushion the impact.
"Impressive, you've certainly gotten stronger, furball." She said with a fire in her eyes.
"What do you hope to gain from this?" Victor replied, throwing the staff back at her.
"Well you either accept me as I am and vow to stand by me without question." She spoke, pointing her staff at Victor, her teeth prominent once more. "Or I keep you to breed me an army."
"Come again?"
"You heard me." The thin, red tongue flashed between her sharp canines. "I know you've wanted me. And judging from the look in your eyes, despite everything..." Speaking in a low whisper and another wrangling of the tongue. "That hasn't changed."
"A-and if I win?"
A small chuckle came from her lips. "You're in my domain, wolfy. No matter how far you run in these city streets, I can erect a wall to stop you, I can form shackles around your feet, I can make the sky fall on your head."
"Fine then." He changed his stance, ready to use one move he hasn't used in action for a year. "But I'm not going to make things easy for you."
"Good."
Cracking both his wrists, the wolf held his staff in the center with both hands before spinning the weapon, passing it back and forth between his paws. He pushes forward with the staff spinning into a blur. The distance was closed in a few seconds, with his opponent reaching out her hand and stopping the spinning shield in its entirety, grasping onto one end as Victor struggled to keep it moving. She moved her tail to whack at his ankles as he pushed her back, veins becoming prominent and ugly as they tried to establish dominance in the push.
Two whacks to the ankles and the wolf still didn't falter, pushing the dragon up against one of the thrones. Looking behind her, Anya relinquished her strength and assault to prop one foot against the chair and push herself forward, still clutching the staff with Victor as she above his frame and to his backside. The wolf let go of the staff, following up with a quick punch to the instrument, making the dragon's flight clumsy for a moment before the little wings on her arms displayed themselves and zipped her in between the many pillars of the room. Victor looked around fearfully, his opponent becoming nothing but a vague image as they flew from spot to spot.
Chunks of stone fell from each pillar as she dashed between them, with the wolf listening to the gravel bounce off the ground. The first set was close, the second was far, the third was even closer than the first. A fourth came but no quick fifth followed: Ready to pounce from the close left. The vague image of green and white came to clarity as it closed the distance with claws ready for his throat. They sunk into his arm instead as he blocked and then grabbed the hand prepping a follow up strike, pulling her close before slamming them both into the ground, pinning her underneath.
"Impressive, furball." Anya said, sticking out her tongue and gave a token attempt at trying to resist Victor cuffing her wrists with his hands. "I guess those winter plains gave you some useful skills."
"Naturally." He responded with a cocky smile. "Didn't need some special stone to do that for me."
"Hey!" She struggled against him, the words coming out more as a childish plea instead of defiance. "I've still got more to work with naturally." Her toothy smile returned and Victor felt the weight being put down on her shift, but before he could react, his back was viciously hit several times with the dragon's tail, breaking his concentration and strength, letting Anya free herself before throwing him off. "Still got the better tail."
Growling while he picked himself up, he threw off the remaining taters of clothing that adorned his chest, showing the scars and bruising that the long winter had earned him from ferals and the wild. The dragon's eyes lit up even more upon seeing his bare body. "Now you're getting the picture."
Her form diminished once more as she flew between the pillars with the wolf listening intently but with a weary mind. Letting off a small flame, the source of green heat exploded at the top of a separate pillar. The wolf looked east instead of where she was coming from: north. At terminal velocity, she flung herself at the wolf, legs open and aiming straight for his head. By the time he realized the trick and turned his head, it was far too late. Her underneath was pressed up to his nose as she wrapped her legs around his head. The scent of her overwhelmed the wolf, failing to even summon the strength to pry her off, wanting to drink in all of her and breath in nothing but that perpetual and unique smell.
A few seconds later, he was snapped out of the trance and moved his hands to pry off her legs, but that sleep-like state was still threatening to pull him back in before the ravenous and hungry feeling that would certainly come. Hands rested upon her legs, she hatched a devious plan and siphoned power from the stone to give her more strength. Flapping her wings, she tightened her leg lock and lifted him off of the ground, forcing his nose and mouth even closer, pressing against the fabric that already failed to hide the excitement she had upon seeing and fighting him. His grip on her thighs stayed but the willingness to scratch, bite and release himself faltered with every inch they were farther from the ground.
If this is the way the world is now, nothing can be done...and I wouldn't want to be with anyone else...
He pressed himself even closer than her legs could and let his tongue escape his mouth to grace the white that hid her underneaths. A gasp came from Anya upon feeling a tenth of the roughness of his tongue upon her parts, followed by a giggle, knowing she had won. Floating down, she let go of Victor's head, seeing the wolf whimper and long for more, she curled her finger and beckoned him to come over to a door next to the thrones. The room before them was full of treasure that adorned the sides, but the point of interest was a large round bed covered in red sheets and blankets. Anya grabbed her companion's hand and led him over to the bed, pushing him onto it before dropping the little cloth she had on, exposing her breasts once more to him and her underneath for the first time. Crawling onto the bed, the wolf's head was tilted back as she sat on his face, letting her juices flow and be licked by him with no resistance. His rough tongue lapped up the sweetness and warmth she provided, filling the room with her gasps and giddy wails.
"I don't need that army, but I do need you." She said with a giggle as she dismounted his face and moved downwards to his concealed parts. He eagerly took off the remainder of his clothes, grabbing onto Anya and throwing her onto her back and propping her legs to be over his shoulders. His member twitched and radiated heat being so close to her inviting spot, the knot begging to be enveloped immediately by her passage. Pushing himself deep inside of her, the dragon screamed in approval and begged for him to just be a part of her. He shouted the same and fucked her violently into the bed, making it shake and creak as he slammed his hips into hers and threatened to knot her with every deep thrust. Taking control once more, she wrapped her legs around his back side and pulled him in even more, having to feel his tip touch the farthest point of her being. Nails ran down his back and teeth marks appeared in her shoulders as they pushed against each other relentlessly.
Climax approached for her and she begged for him to make her his. The wolf complied and gave her everything, with the last thrust releasing an almost endless supply of his semen, coating her insides and leaking out onto the bedspread, his knot keeping him inside and he emptied his entire being into her, being the most happy and willing to receive it. His knot swelled and touched against the walls of her, feeling the mess he made inside her coat back onto him as well. Collapsing into her, he confessed it might be hard to disentangle himself, but she giggled and said she didn't want him to detach anytime soon anyways.
They slept in that same bed for seven hours, cleaning each other off with tongues tired from kisses and declarations of affection, before locking eyes without saying anything. Troubling thoughts still held sway in Victor's mind, but he was still absolute in being with Anya and that anything that happened was for the better, even in a selfish way.
"So what about Garreus, and everyone else on the day I disappeared?" Victor asked while his companion rested her head on his chest.
"Old man Garreus is fine." Anya tiredly replied but still holding a smile upon looking at him. "He was actually looking for us himself when we didn't show up for class, closer to the Flooded District than the Central, so when things shifted, he just got trapped in a house for a day. Never worked for me but he did stay as an instructor to the new and confused people."
"Well that's good at least." Victor replied, rubbing her back with his paw. "Can you change the weather around here with the Monolith?"
"Yeah..." She sighed before giving a small laugh. "But I did that once and everyone screamed cause they'd never seen snow before and assumed we were under attack."
Victor chuckled upon the image of that. "Well I can think of a place where we can go sledding."
"Really?" Her lips curled and she placed a kiss upon his cheek. "Would you like to start the trek tomorrow?"
"You sure the place will be fine without you here?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "Mari and Ger should be able to handle it fine while we're away. That rebellion will hopefully be the last."
"Tomorrow it is then." He replied before looking around the room. "Also, what's with the hordes of gold? I thought you said you basically created everything through magic."
Another shrug. "An empire still has to make money. Plus, I'm a dragon."
Victor tilted his head in confusion.
"Dragons like hoarding."
The three maidens of song lit up the Bitter Arrow with their tenor melodies, flapping their tongues and bustling their bodies to the rhythm of the backup band. Their voices reverberated across empty glasses and the windows threatening to break under the strain of the most ambitious performer.
Furs bounced against each other for the sake of dance and some through the weak veil of flirting. The bar illuminated the entire village, with all the residents being inside or surrounding the establishment. A hare hung himself off a wolf's shoulder, with an older one handing him an old sword and a crest to keep.
"It'd be real nice if you could stay, Victor. But I'll consider you family no matter your obligation and location." Said the older hare.
"Thank you Elder Damieus." Victor replied, bowing his head and holstering the blade on his belt. "You and Marcus were far more kind than I ever deserved. Were it not for you, I might not be where I am." He looked to the side to see Anya enjoying a drink and giving a wink.
"The moment I stop being able to look after your gargantuan toosh, and you become an emperor. What cursed land do I stand on?" Marcus said with exaggerated inflections and still hugging Victor's arm.
"You found yourself a good mate yet?" Victor churlishly asked.
Marcus punched his arm, hurting himself again. "All in time."
"Well if you marry rich, come visit our mountain. I assure you it'll be really interesting." Victor gave Marcus a full hug before saying his goodbyes, claiming he had diplomatic business to attend to.
Between the burnt but unbroken trees, the dragon and wolf embraced under the bright moonlight, kissing and squeezing for warmth. Ripping the bark off of the trees, their makeshift sleds would have to do when traveling light. The mounds led directly into the wild expanses of white.
Giddy with excitement, the pair slide down, hitting bumps, sinking further and forcing themselves to pick up speed before crashing into the banks of fresh snow.
After the fifth crash, the giggles and declarations of fun filled the arctic air. Victor looked upon the one who was formerly his closest friend and partner and saw a lover and companion he feared losing more than anything. Guilt used to hang around her name when he thought she was dead, and reluctance did before that.
Now one word hangs around her frame at all times, no matter where they were.
Home.
He was finally, truly home, in place and in mind.