Part 6: Baggage and Gloves
Big thanks to
for being my labderg on this one and helped to edit and make this story what it is.
Submerged in the hot water, Viina watched with amusement as Keekzee told the story of the Dragoness of Mars, his exaggerated enthusiasm more fitting for a primary school play. Like her, the rest of the group chuckled at the black drake's antics as he recited the tale, attempting with mixed success to imitate the voices of the various characters. Not that anyone seemed to mind; they floated in the warm spring, enjoying Keekzee’s performance. It quickly became apparent that the story was meant to be told by the lead tour guide and their assistant, as it included long passages of dialogue. Undeterred, Keekzee leaned from side to side and curled his neck left and right as he performed the back-and-forth banter with himself. After each exchange, he paused briefly and glanced toward Rikusan, who held his daughter close and whispered a hurried translation so the hatchling could follow along. The infectious giggles and gasps of shock that followed a few seconds after everyone else’s, and quickly became a source of amusement for the group, many glancing at her to watch her reactions, unfiltered by adult propriety as they were. .
“And then! The mighty Leesiana, Dragoness of Mars, and all her friends breathed in!! And in!!!! And then buuuurned the evil men as they bathed!” Keekzee exclaimed, lunging his neck forward over the water in imitation of the heroes of his story. “They burned and burned the army with fire so hot it boiled the river, and all the bad men were turned to ash. But they didn’t stop there! Oh no! They kept burning and burning until the rocks in the stream became red-hot! When they finally stopped, the water continued to boil and froth for years to come! Centuries even! Until today, when you can still feel the heat of Leesiana's wrath!” Keekzee added before taking a deep breath to compose himself. Lowering his voice to a loud whisper that everyone could hear, he glanced over his shoulder as if checking whether anyone was watching, then spoke as though revealing a secret. “Legends say that if anyone comes here with hatred toward dragons in their heart, the water gets hotter and hotter as the ghost of Leesiana’s anger flares.”
The group collectively glanced toward Caariyo, who watched Keekzee intently while her father translated, then chuckled when the hatchling gasped dramatically. “And that! Is the story of the Dragoness of Mars,” Keekzee concluded, dipping his head in a polite bow as the humans in the group clapped and the winged dragons beat their wings against the water’s surface. “Thank you, thank you very much,” he chuckled, lifting his head and resetting his wings. Reaching for his harness, he unclipped a large water bottle and used a talon to open the drinking spout.
When the applause died down, Viina noticed that Daazuh had lifted his paw as if to ask a question while standing on his hind legs in the water. “So… are you saying that we are all swimming in dead guy stew?” he asked with a playful smile that earned a chuckle from the group. Turning his attention to Kooa, who shook his head in disbelief, the Australian drake’s smile deepened. “And you’re breathing that?” Daazuh added, laughing as the large aquatic suddenly flicked his tail, sending a big splash of water toward him.
“Considering it's been almost two thousand years, I'm pretty sure it's not dead-guy stew anymore,” Keekzee clarified with a grin, shaking his head. “Besides, the springs are geothermic, so I wouldn't take everything I said as absolute gospel.” He shrugged his wings. “But I think it's a good tale nevertheless, don't you?” he asked and was met with hums and nods of agreement.
Pulling herself closer to the edge of the spring, Viina lifted her head and looked toward Keekzee. “Wait, so it wasn't a real story?” she asked, shrinking back slightly as the group focused on her. Thankfully, their gaze didn't linger for long, as Keekzee sipped from his drink bottle while quickly nodding.
After he swallowed, the drake swept his attention from her to the rest of the group. “Was it a true story? Well, now that is a good question.” He repeated, just in case anyone missed it. “The victories of the ‘Dragoness of Mars’ were well documented in various histories and battle reports from the Roman Empire. Many historians believe that she was indeed real—or at least based on someone real, who was trumped up as war propaganda. Her escape and rebellion, however, is a more curious tale,” he continued, and Viina saw that she wasn't the only one hanging on every word. Every member of the group floated or treaded water with their focus locked on Keekzee, who paused to take another sip from his drink bottle.
“Archeological digs have found artifacts of the old Roman Empire around these springs—sword hilts, buckles, and bronze items—suggesting that a battle or something did happen here. However, for the longest time there was conflicting evidence about the details of a fight, whether an army from House Julii routed another house, or if it was just a group of dragons like the story says, is uncertain from the historical evidence. Many thought that if the story was true, and Leesiana made a stand here, House Julii would probably want to take credit for it. One thing that was certain is that sometime after the death of the Imperator, the Dragoness of Mars disappears from the historical record. Other than that story, she is not mentioned anywhere else in the roman history, nor were there any dragons since her that were claimed to be from her bloodline,” Keekzee explained, pacing along the wooden platform.
To his credit, Keekzee had a natural knack for captivating an audience, and all waited patiently for him to continue. “For centuries, many believed that she either died in this battle, or perhaps she was slain at the same time as her rider. It's always hard to tell with these sorts of things as most of the time history is written by humans and a tale of a rebellious dragon fighting for her freedom isn’t exactly a story they want to re-tell . However, the answer came much—much later. In the eighteen hundreds, the British Empire was expanding into West Africa. It was there that they came across a clan of exclusively dragons, which in and of itself isn't too uncommon in that part of the world. But in their leader's treasuries, they found a golden horn—twisted exactly as Leesiana's was described. Additionally, they had carvings and paintings of their tribe's history, all starting from a crimson ‘ness.’ So! After hundreds of years of mystery, it is believed that Leesiana, the Dragoness of Mars, made it out of the Roman Empire!” Keekzee added, causing the group to murmur remarks of happiness.
Viina found herself smiling, feeling her chest tighten at the idea that the dragoness had finally found a new life. Keekzee paused to let Rikusan translate to his daughter before tilting his head from side to side. “I've heard that the horn is currently kept in the British Museum of Natural History, which is a point of conflict with the tribe it was taken from. But if anyone finds themselves visiting the museum, I've heard it's worth the trip just to see it,” Keekzee added.
“So, they were ultimately conquered? It was all for nothing?” Viina asked, her heart sinking at the knowledge that Leesiana had fought so hard for freedom only for her tribe to be plundered like so many other nations. Her voice had been sharper than she expected, and she shrank back when the group looked at her with mixed expressions. Clearly, some shared her sentiment, while others seemed less affected.
Sensing the tension, Keekzee cleared his throat and flashed a warm smile. “I wouldn't say it was all for nothing. Every empire and civilization grows and shrinks over time. From the time historians guess she left here, to when her supposed descendants were rediscovered, it was well over a thousand years. That is a pretty long time, all things considered.” Keekzee offered, but Viina still didn't feel satisfied. She had found herself rooting for the dragoness, and while she hoped that the ‘ness had found the peace she had dreamed of, the idea that they had ultimately lost left a sour taste in her mouth. “This clan is still alive today, and I’ve heard that there are dragons there whose horns curve around one another like hers. Which leads many to believe that she did settle down—”
Keekzee stopped as the small voice of Caariyo squeaked a flurry of words. The small hatchling showed no fear speaking amongst the crowd that now watched her, and only when she finally fell silent did they all look at Keekzee, who now wore a wide grin. After a nod to acknowledge the hatchling, Keekzee repeated the question. “Caariyo wanted to know what happened to Leesiana's friend—the one who helped her escape the ‘ploughing farm.’” Many of the group chuckled and exchanged glances. When Keekzee had told the story, he had clearly substituted facts to make it more appropriate for the hatchling—one detail being the description of a farm the dragoness had been sent to. He had described it as a farm where they had to plough fields and sow seeds, which captured the hatchling's imagination, but the adults instantly understood that it had been a stud farm.
“The short story of ‘Reekan the Liar’ is a lesser-known one, and many dismissed it as just a folk tale until Leesiana's tribe was found. In summary, the story tells of the days after Leesiana's escape. Messengers all across the Roman Empire relayed sightings of the dragoness of war. Word would come from the east, saying that she had been spotted bathing in a lake, and then a few months later, she was apparently in the north, hunting in the forests.
The nobles of the various houses took this information and dispatched dragons and riders to try and capture the ‘ness. They searched high and low, far and wide,” Keekzee explained, returning to being animated again to entertain the hatchling. “Only for a new message to come saying that she had been spotted only a few days' flight away. That was until ‘Pontius the Wise’ stopped looking at the contents of the messages and instead started examining the chain of messengers who delivered the letters!” Keekzee added, and Viina's heart soared at the idea of what the drake was suggesting. “It turned out that Reekan, the drake who had befriended the dragoness of Mars, was telling lies! The moral of the story is to not just listen to what is being said, but also to be observant of who is telling it.” Keekzee concluded and took another sip of his drink before suddenly jolting.
“Ah, but what happened to Reekan? well! Once Pontius the Wise discovered what was happening, they tried to catch him and redirected the forces that were trying to find Leesiana to hunt down the drake, thinking that he was somehow still in contact with the dragoness. But they never could find him,” Keekzee added before resetting his wings and sitting back on his haunches. “It's not a very conclusive story, and maybe it's meant to tell us that there will always be people who lie to us. But I like to think he managed to escape as well, and who knows? Maybe some of the dragons in West Africa have some messenger blood in them too,” he added cheerfully.
Viina smiled warmly and blinked her glossy eyes at the knowledge that the drake had done everything he could to help. By using the empire's messenger network against them, he had bought his mate time to get to safety. The idea of the drake remaining in the empire, separated from Leesiana for so long, pulled at Viina's heartstrings. Reekan delivering false messages to misdirect those chasing his mate was an incredibly romantic gesture that Viina hoped was true, and she enjoyed the idea that they had managed to reunite.
“All right, everyone. We will need to be on the road in fifteen minutes if we are going to keep our schedule,” Keekzee announced to the group. “We have a brief lunch in Florence, and a chance to check out their awesome leather crafts. Then it's on to beautiful Venice! If you need to change, I've got your clothes, and there are showers for all, with change rooms just behind that tree line,” he added, gesturing with a paw toward the direction where they had entered the springs.
Re-sealing his water bottle, Keekzee waited as the guests began to climb out of the spring, and the various humans passed him to collect their belongings. Only once they had all taken their effects did he turn to Viina and approach her with the dragoness' harness hanging over his shoulders. “I believe this one is yours,” he said with a warm smile.
“Thanks,” Viina replied as she hooked her paws over the lip of her hot spring and lunged out with ease. After a brief shake, she took her harness from the black drake, and draped it over her shoulders just enough to hide her broken wings. She still wanted to take a quick shower to rid herself of the mineral-rich water and the sulfuric scent of the springs, but at least now she didn't have to walk across the springs with her injuries on display. “You are a good storyteller,” she mused as she checked how the harness hung over her shoulders.
“Oh, you liked it?” Keekzee asked with a sheepish grin. “It's always a bit embarrassing, but Caariyo seemed to enjoy the silliness.”
“I enjoyed the silliness,” Viina chuckled, her frill lifting as she looked him in the eyes. “The way you walk on your front feet when pretending to be a human was pretty funny,” she added, lifting each forepaw one at a time to mimic his performance.
Her impression of him made the drake chuckle and shake his head. “I figured that in a couple of days everyone will be heading home, and I'll never see them again. So I could let myself go a bit.”
“Oh? Was that the real Keekzee, then?” Viina giggled, earning herself a smirk and a glare from the black drake. “And here I was thinking you were a suave, worldly drake. But you're actually just a big, hairy goof, aren't you?” she teased, making the larger dragon chuckle a deep, throaty laugh.
“I think if you had joined us from the start, you would have known that already,” he replied with a genuine smile, nodding toward the path back to the bus. “Come on, Florence awaits,” he added before snorting in amusement. “Suave… that's a new one.”
Compared to the bus ride to the springs, the journey to Florence had been more direct, and the bus had swept across the land along double-laned highways rather than winding through the country roads. Yet the approach still felt theatrical. From the elevated seat on the bus, the city unfurled like a terracotta sea, low roofs the color of baked clay stitched with narrow streets, all anchored by a single, impossible dome rising above it, brick-red and ribbed, shouldering the late light as if the sun itself had chosen to pause there. To one side, a pale bell tower, square and elegant, stood like a stone metronome beside the cathedral’s bulk. Bridges stepped across it in a line, some plain and utilitarian, one crowded with little boxy shops that looked as if they were clinging on out of stubbornness.
Then the bus slid down from the vantage and into the weave of the streets, and the grandeur collapsed into texture. Pavement became tight cobble stone that had been worn through eons of foot traffic, corners tightened, facades pressed close. Rustic blocks on the ground floors of palazzi looked like stacked boulders, their upper stories trimmed with neat courses of blue gray sandstone. Iron rings and torch brackets jutted from the walls at shoulder height, ghost anchors for horses that had not passed this way in a century. Shrines were set into corners, tiny tabernacles with painted saints behind dusty glass, while above, shuttered windows blinked open and shut like sleepy eyes.
Once they arrived in the heart of Florence, the streets became tight once more, and the swarms of scooters, motorbikes, and small cars all passed the bus with only inches to spare. Unable to do anything but watch nervously, Viina had clutched the cushion of her seat until her claws threatened to tear the fabric. It was not just the proximity that stoked her anxiety, but the constant honking and jeering from the passing riders and the occasional pedestrian who would walk confidently into traffic. The lines painted on the road seemed to go unnoticed by the other road users, who simply went where they pleased, and by the time the bus arrived at their destination, Viina was more than glad to get off the nightmarish ride.
On foot, the city restored its scale. Sound spilled around corners, espresso machines hissing from a bar, a bell striking the hour somewhere above the roofs, vendors calling in practiced cadence, and the occasional dragon's wing beats overhead all flooded the senses. The air carried a mix of hot stone, exhaust fumes, espresso, and a faint tannic sweetness Viina could not place at first. Only when they stepped into a broader street did she notice it came from the leather shops, hides and belts hanging in dense arrays beneath striped awnings, the smell warm and vegetal, like sun-struck bark.
After their lunch and a brief tour of some of the more notable statues, Keekzee led the group to a large market square packed tightly with countless vendors selling all sorts of leather crafts. The square felt like a room with the ceiling missing. Buildings stood shoulder to shoulder around it, four and five stories, ochre and cream, their cornices casting sharp lines of shade. A long iron and glass hall occupied one edge, its roof trusses visible through ribbed windows, and from within came a constant low hum of knives on cutting boards and stallholders calling out to prospective customers. Elsewhere, arcades provided narrow bands of shade, columns freckled with old nail holes where notices had once been tacked. Banners drooped from upper windows, laundry lines ran like quiet pennants between opposite façades.
The group was encouraged to explore with instructions to meet under the large bell tower after an hour, a scheme Viina suspected might give Keekzee a short break from the guests. She looked toward the tower that would serve as their meeting spot, tall and square-jawed, with a clock face set high and a crown of machicolations that cut a jagged line against the afternoon sky. It rose from a palace that looked more fortress than home, its lower stones deeply scored, as if the building carried the memory of every cartwheel and footstep that had brushed past it for six hundred years.
At first, she had not been sure if keekzee wanted some time away from her as well, but that thought died when he invited her to join him with a small nod of his head.
“I think I ate too much,” Viina remarked as she slowly walked alongside Keekzee, looking down at the table of belts, straps, and harnesses that littered a vendor’s display. Buckles glinted in trays like coins, thick stitching ran in tidy ladders along strap edges, some hides were smooth and glossy, others pebble-grained and soft. The vendor’s stall awning threw a cool, greenish shade, and beyond its edge the sun hammered the square so hard that the pale stone paving seemed to glow. Each time the wind shifted, the leather scent deepened, mixing with roasted coffee and the faint mineral cool of an open fountain burbling somewhere out of sight.
“You liked it?” Keekzee asked, glancing toward her with a friendly smirk. When she nodded, his smile grew, and he hummed in acknowledgment. “I don’t know if Myyrah did—I’m guessing it wasn’t the sort of pizza she was expecting,” Keekzee mused, causing Viina to chuckle.
“What makes you say that?” Viina asked sarcastically. The entire group had exchanged glances while the dragoness had endlessly complained that there were better pies back home and how the ones they had been served were anaemic in their toppings. “I think they were really good, though. Much lighter and cleaner than the greasy ones we have at home. They don’t make you feel guilty for having more either.”
“And you sure did have more, didn't you? Almost as much as me,” Keekzee teased with a chuckle, rearing his neck back into a cheeky yet proud grin. “I think Daazuh was secretly impressed,” he added when Viina looked up at him in surprise.
She hadn't been paying attention to how much she had eaten and now felt self-conscious that at least two drakes had noticed. “Well… it was really good, and I hadn't eaten since yesterday—”
“You didn't have breakfast?” Keekzee said, his smile vanishing as he paused mid-step, looking at her with concern. “That's the most important meal of the day!”
Avoiding his gaze, Viina focused on a harness that was for sale and picked up one of the straps in a paw. The peanut-butter-colored leather was incredibly supple, and the stitching was done with immaculate precision in a pale thread that would complement the leather as it aged. It would be something she would have loved to own. However, it wasn't designed to hide wings like hers, nor did she have the money to splurge on something she didn't need. “Well… technically, I didn't eat dinner either,” Viina added when she noticed that Keekzee was still watching her.
“So wait, you hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday’s lunch?” he asked, his jaw dropping when Viina shook her head. “Gods, Viina, I'm sorry! If I had known, I would have gotten you something. Emanuel had some—”
“It's okay—”
“No, it's not,” retorted Keekzee quickly, causing Viina to turn her head to look at him sternly. She knew she should have eaten something, but she didn’t much appreciate being lectured. After all, she was an adult, and when she had been deployed, it wasn't uncommon to go an occasional day without real food. The drake seemed to realize his mistake and shrank back under her glare, tightening his wings against his sides. “I'm just saying, you can't have a vacation in Italy without gorging yourself on the cuisine! It's not a vacation otherwise,” he added, attempting to lighten the mood.
A smirk pulled at Viina's lips as she shook her head to dismiss him. “Fair point,” she conceded and resumed looking at the various wares to diffuse the tension. “Although don't expect me to always eat that much. I am watching my figure. I may not be able to fly, but I don't want it to look like my wings broke because I was fat,” she added and glanced back when she heard the drake whine.
“You ate as much as me, what are you saying?” Keekzee replied, eyes wide in mock offense, pressing a forepaw against his chest. “I promise, most of this is just floof,” he added, and Viina watched as the drake's digits almost completely disappeared into the thick fur that framed his chest.
“I didn't mean—!” Viina started, but chuckled when Keekzee pouted dramatically and looked down with an exaggerated, crestfallen expression. “Oh, come on, you know what I mean. Plus, you can fly it off! I have to run through the streets like a psycho!” she retorted, nudging his rump with her hip. To her surprise, his fur was far softer than she expected. She had imagined it would be thick and coarse; instead, its softness reminded her of a time when a therapy dog had visited her during her recovery. With a small twitch of her head, she quickly buried the memory of the sterile facility and focused instead on Keekzee.
“Oh, I doubt you looked like a psycho…” Keekzee replied, giving her a wry smile. He either didn’t notice or didn’t care that she had brushed her scales against his body, continuing to walk slowly while glancing between her and the many wares. “I’ve seen you run—hell, I watched you pass out from running—and I never thought you were a psycho,” he added, pausing to straighten one of the leather satchel bags on the market stall’s display.
“Oh? And what did you think?” Viina asked, her frill lifting in curiosity as the drake’s eyes briefly widened, as if caught off guard.
The drake didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he fidgeted with a strap of the bag before finally turning to her, flashing a flicker of a smile. “I thought you had been attacked,” he added, chuckling when Viina looked at him in confusion. “To be fair, I was barely awake. I just kinda saw this white ‘ness frantically running with what I thought was blood on her neck,” he explained, nodding toward her crimson frill. “I was fully expecting you to be chased by a drake or something, given how panicked you looked. I kinda thought there would be a confrontation or something. But nope—just a ‘ness going for a run.”
“Awww, you thought I was a damsel in distress, did you?” Viina smiled, chuckling as he looked down at the market stall table, avoiding her gaze. “You did, didn’t you?!” she teased, laughing when he briefly flashed a guilty look.
“Well, you can see how I thought that, though. A pretty ‘ness running full tilt in the early hours of the morning, all alone and pushing herself to the point of collapse?” Keekzee replied, nudging his furry rump into the side of hers. “Running like that makes people wonder—like, what is that psycho running from?” he teased back, with a playful glint in his eyes.
His expression and wit made her giggle, but her eyes narrowed suddenly and her frill flicked up to full height. “Pretty ‘ness?” she asked, causing Keekzee to jolt in realization. His wide eyes betrayed that he hadn’t meant to let that slip, and truthfully, Viina wasn’t sure how to respond. Confusion washed over her as emotions clashed together; she felt slightly uncomfortable that the friendly drake found her pretty, especially when she had made it clear she wasn’t looking for anything more than a ride to Venice. However, she now regretted pushing for an answer, as she had been enjoying the drake’s company and ran the risk of ruining what they had. Judging by the drake’s panicked expression, he too was feeling something similar, and it took all of Viina’s self-control to flash him a friendly smile and click her tongue in amusement. “You must have been sleepy,” she added, trying to redirect the comment.
“Well—I was,” Keekzee started, shaking his head and pulling his wings tighter against his body. “I mean—I didn’t mean that—wait, no—I don’t mean that you’re NOT pretty—I mean, I just didn’t know that… your wings… not that there is anything wrong with them! I mean—” He stammered quickly before scrunching his eyes closed and stopping in place. “What I mean to say is, yes… I was tired. But you are also a good-looking ‘ness. However, I just meant it as a compliment, not anything else…” he tried to clarify, opening one eye to look at her and gauge her reaction.
“Calm down, Keekzee, I'm just pulling your tail,” Viina said, waving a paw to dismiss his concern. “And thank you—no one has called me pretty since…” she widened her smile and nodded in thanks.
Turning to the table, Keekzee flipped a pouch with one paw to inspect the stitching and shuffled his wings. “I mean it, though. Where I come from, having a white coloration is considered very attractive. Not that we discriminate based on fur or scale color or anything, but I think it's more of a traditional survival thing. You know, blending in with the snow and all that,” he explained before putting the bag down and glancing at her. “Combined with your size, build, and lack of wings, you’re an easy eight,” he added with a growing smirk before shaking his head. “Only because of your scales. If you had fur, tens all day long.”
“An eight?” Viina scoffed, glaring at him with a smile. Now she knew he was just trying to make her feel better. “What about when it's not snowing? Surely I'd stand out, right? Does that mean I'm only an eight in the winter?”
“Ah, well, you see, standing out in the spring is part of the appeal…” Keekzee started but chuckled sheepishly when he hesitated, and she continued to stare at him expectantly. “I mea… it’s only during the winter that ambush hunting is important. Food kinda gets scarce during that time. During the spring and summer months, being camouflaged isn’t as important,” he added, but the playfulness in his eyes told her he was probably exaggerating.
“Oh really? That’s good to know,” Viina remarked with a knowing smirk and glanced toward a rack of various leather pouches. Each one looked as though it had been custom-made to hold particular items, and while they lacked the practicalities of a universal pouch, the asymmetrical shapes allowed the artisan to lean into their craft and make each one look stunning. “Good save,” she muttered under her breath and glanced at the black drake.
“Thanks, I thought so,” he replied with a chuckle, inspecting the pouches alongside her. In the tight market lanes, he had to stand quite close to her to allow room for other patrons to pass. The faint scent of sulfur emanating from his coat brought a smile to Viina’s snout. While he hadn't gotten into the water, the humid air had still trapped itself in his fur, and despite his best efforts, he would need a bath.
The mental image of his thick, dark fur flattening against his body as he showered made her softly giggle, and when he looked at her, she quickly shook her head. “So… if I’m an eight because of my white scales, what does that make you?… traditionally speaking, of course,” she asked, turning her head to focus on his reaction.
The drake’s neck coiled back into an elegant ‘S’ shape, and he lifted a forepaw across his chest to appear even more regal, his wings partially lifting at his sides. “Me? Oh, I’d be considered the most handsome drake in the whole country. I find it kinda hard to walk through the street without flocks of ‘nesses wanting to say hello,” he lied, his expression clearly not serious. Viina laughed, and his own chuckle grew before he shook his head and pulled his wings closer to his body. “No, based on traditional attractiveness, I’m a bit of a weird one,” he admitted, glancing back at the bags.
“Well, fuck ‘em, you’re alright,” Viina remarked, flashing him a reassuring smile. “I think an easy four, maybe even a five if you didn’t smell of the springs—”
“Gods, you can smell that too?” Keekzee asked, tightening his jaw when Viina nodded. “I’m sorry, the hotel should have a proper drying vac, so I’ll take a shower once we get to Venice.”
“It’s fine, it’s really not that noticeable,” Viina lied, chuckling as the drake curled his neck around to sniff his wing shoulder. “Okay, it’s kinda noticeable,” she added when he recoiled slightly.
“Yup… joys of fur and feathers,” Keekzee sighed, shuffling his wings against his sides. “I may as well have just gotten in the water,” he added, a hint of annoyance in his voice.
“I promise it’s really not that bad,” Viina replied, trying to console the drake. “Forget I said anything—you’re a five regardless of the smell.” She added with a playful grin, earning a lighthearted glare in return. Pretending to notice something on the market stall, her frill flicked up as she looked down at the first item she saw. “Oh, this looks smart,” she mused, picking up one of the black leather tubular pouches that seemed made for storing maps or posters.
“That is quite handsome, isn’t it?” Keekzee mused with a smirk. It was clear he picked up on her redirection but didn’t complain. “It matches your harness color too,” he added, sitting back on his haunches and glancing toward the market vendor, who was busy harassing another customer.
“I was thinking for you!” Viina remarked, holding it out toward him. “My harness isn’t modular like yours, and this matches your fur.” She tilted the tube from side to side to entice him further.
“It is nice, but I’m kinda loaded up, to be honest,” Keekzee replied, taking the leather tube to inspect it. “But why don’t you get something for yourself? Florence’s leather craft is world-renowned, and I could see you pulling off a tail bag,” he added, his friendly tone making it clear he wasn’t insinuating anything more.
“I’ve already got one though—just for toiletries and stuff I leave in the hotel,” Viina explained.
“Well, why not another one? To make it symmetrical? It’s gotta be better for your hips if it’s balanced.”
“I don't know, I usually try to travel pretty light,” Viina mused, taking the tube back from the drake and placing it where she had found it. “I think if I had extra pouches, I'd just fill them with trinkets and junk,” she added, glancing up at a series of plump pouches hanging from the awning over the market stall. The drake wasn’t wrong—a tail bag wouldn’t clash with her elastic harness and would add some practicality her harness sorely lacked.
“That is kinda the point though, isn’t it?” Keekzee replied, lifting a paw to turn over one of the dangling pouches. “You know, collect a few souvenirs so you can remember you were here later? Also makes people jealous when they ask where you got it,” he continued, making Viina scoff. “Oh, this? It’s nothing, just a little thing I picked up in Florence one time!” the large drake added in a higher-pitched voice.
“Oh, that’s how I sound, is it?” Viina asked with a giggle, met by the drake giving her a coy shrug of his folded wings.
“No, but you know what I mean. It’s not every day you get to come here. Might as well get something to make people a little envious,” he replied, playfulness in his voice. “So? What do you like to collect?”
“Oh, I don’t collect anything. Just the odd photograph,” Viina replied, feeling a rise of emotions simmer deep in her core. Unlike the others, she hadn’t been viewing the sights through the lens of her camera phone. After all, she didn’t have anyone to share the photos with. Likewise, she didn’t collect trinkets as there wasn’t a mantle to place them on back home, nor was there a home to return to. Swallowing, she cleared her throat before nodding toward him and tilting her head. “What about you? Do you collect trinkets? I can see you as a snow-globe type,” she started, attempting to redirect the conversation away from herself.
“That’s racist,” Keekzee retorted sarcastically and flatly, flashing her a grin while inspecting another pouch. The speed of his reply cut through her thoughts like a knife, and before she could stop herself, a genuine laugh escaped her maw. Putting down the pouch, Keekzee joined in, chuckling at his own remark before shaking his head. “I never really got the whole snow-globe thing. We sold them at the ski resort, and it kinda made sense there, because, you know… it actually snows. I don’t think I could pay money for a snow globe of a place like Florence.”
Nodding in understanding, Viina paused, frowning at a row of gaudy-looking saddles. Of course, riding dragons wasn’t as frowned upon here as it was back home, but it still felt strange to see an entire row of various designs in broad daylight. She had never really paid much attention to a saddle’s design, nor would she be confident in judging what was good or bad style. However, seeing four in a row made exclusively of a repeating monogram from a famous fashion label looked out of place compared to the rest of the leather goods. Each was still wrapped in clear plastic, suggesting to Viina that they might not be as authentic as the handwritten sign above them claimed.
“Very real! All handmade here in Italy!” called out the vendor, an aquatic dragon whose scales were the color of spilt oil on black asphalt. “A pretty price for a pretty ‘ness, just for today!” he added with an overly welcoming smile.
Waving a paw to dismiss him, Viina moved on to the next stall before glancing back at Keekzee, who looked more amused than he should have been. “See, he called you pretty. That's two for two,” Keekzee added, laughing when he had to recoil his head to avoid her long tail slapping him.
“I wouldn't take the word of a vendor pedaling knock-offs, sorry,” Viina replied with a playful glare that did nothing to dampen the drake's mood.
“Knock-offs?! They were all authentic! Made here in Italy!” he retorted, his attempt at the merchant's accent surprisingly accurate. “Although, I'm pretty sure Louis Vuitton is French or something, right?” he added, prompting a perplexed look from Viina.
“I have no idea, not my scene,” she replied, glancing toward a rack of human wallets and keychains. The drake seemed interested in what she was looking at and settled back on his haunches to peruse the wares. “So, if it's not snowglobes, what is your vice then?” Viina asked, catching a look of concentration on the drake's snout as he flicked through the small leather tags embossed with names.
“They never have Keekzee…” the drake muttered under his breath before looking up from the lower hangers and locking eyes with her. “Me? I don't know. I kinda have to travel light too, so that limits things…” He glanced back at the racks, flicking through a different section.
Viina watched for a moment before a playful smile formed on her lips, her frill lifting involuntarily. “I bet you collect the towels from the hotel, don't you—”
“Pffft—no!” Keekzee scoffed, looking up from his search with an imploring expression. “Hell no, they ain't cheap!”
“That's the point, isn't it?” Viina grinned and laughed as the large black drake coiled his neck back, casting her a disapproving glare down his snout. “If they were cheap, it wouldn't be worth it. I bet you have one from every hotel you stay at—” She paused, laughing as Keekzee gave her a look of pure resentment before his lip twitched into a smile.
“My old bosses were always complaining about how many towels they had to order ahead of a ski season. It was a joke that we should save money on laundry and just buy new ones each time,” Keekzee said, raising a furred eyeridge at her. “Am I going to need to search your bag? I don't want you to get me in trouble, little ‘ness,” he added in a mock chastising voice.
Shaking her head, Viina's chest vibrated with each laugh before she inhaled and met his eyes. “No, it's not my thing,” she replied, met with the drake tilting his head as if he didn’t believe her. “But I don't think people would want to steal wet towels they've used. It's the fresh ones that people take. So I think your bosses would still need to pay for laundry.” She laughed as Keekzee's eye ridges rose in mock disbelief. “What? No one would want to carry a soggy towel home, plus they weigh more, and excess baggage is daylight robbery.”
“Spoken like a true towel thief!” Keekzee countered, making her cackle in amusement. “I'm onto you! Viina the Linen… larcenist!” He added after thinking of an alliteration. “Sneaks into hotels in the dead of night and takes only the freshest towels! With a cape made out of a bedsheet–” This made Viina scrunch her eyes closed as she leaned back on her haunches and laughed.
“Stop!” she begged, without any conviction, as she used the back of her paw to wipe a tear from her snout. She couldn't remember the last time she had laughed so hard, but the image he painted, combined with the memory of escaping her hotel via the window in the dead of night, all came together to make her lose control.
“Stop?! I'm the victim here!” Keekzee exclaimed with a playful smile. “Do you know how hard it is to dry myself just with towels? Every time I go to take a shower, I have to phone ahead, and the number of times they think I'm stealing them is atrocious!”
“Ah yes, my master plan is coming into effect,” Viina added with a toothy grin that made the drake shake his head disapprovingly—or rather, it would have if it weren't for his equally large smile. “Keeping Keekzee damp and mildly uncomfortable–”
“Hey-hey-hey, it's a real problem,” Keekzee said, holding up a paw to cut her off. “Where I come from, not being dry can be dangerous!”
“Sure, buddy,” Viina scoffed sarcastically, glancing back at the rack of trinkets between her and the dark drake. There wasn't anything there that truly interested her, but it provided a nice barrier between them to converse without making her feel too friendly.
“It is dangerous!” Keekzee retorted, pulling his wings tighter against his sides in an almost defensive gesture. “When the temperature is below freezing, having any moisture in your fur is a recipe for hyperthermia. Doesn't matter what you do—the fur just stays cold, and you can't get warm. And that's before having your fur matted with ice—that hurts!”
She believed him, of course. She had flown through countless clouds and knew that the added moisture always amplified the wind's bite. However, it had always been something she did to cool off after flying in the sun all day, and she simply nodded in understanding at his remark.
“Well… if ice matting your fur is an issue, you could always shave,” Viina added nonchalantly, flicking her gaze to the drake—only to see him glaring back at her. “Just a trim, maybe one like those little dogs have. You know, a fluffy ball at the end of your tail, the rest trimmed tight–”
“Kill me,” Keekzee retorted flatly, before something caught his eye on the rack and he pulled it off its hanger. Viina couldn't make out what it was, but the drake appeared quite chuffed with his find by the way he glanced between the item and the merchant. Before she could ask, he had already begun talking to the vendor in Italian. After a brief exchange, the black drake tapped his wrist-mounted smartphone against the merchant's payment machine, and a cheerful beep played out.
“Whatcha get?” Viina asked, craning her neck around the rack to try and see, but she failed to glimpse it before he pocketed it in his front harness pouch.
“Oh, nothing special,” Keekzee lied, zipping up the pouch and flashing her a guilty smile. “Just a snowglobe,” he added, which made her tilt her head and look at him quizzically. Judging by the coy expression on the drake’s face, his purchase was either very private or had something to do with her. The idea of the drake buying something for her made feel uncomfortable, not because the gesture wasnt welcome, but because she wasn’t sure how she should react. Thankfully, whatever it was, Keezee didn’t seem to plan on revealing it to her just yet and she chose not to press the matter.
“A snow globe…” she muttered, shaking her head with a smile. “I knew it,” she added jokingly before getting to her feet and continuing to walk through the market stalls. With Keekzee at her side, she glanced over her shoulder to get his attention and nodded toward his body. “Out of curiosity, how many towels do you need to dry off?” she asked, keeping their conversation going.
“Planning your next heist, are you?” Keekzee retorted, making her giggle. The gaps between the market stalls widened slightly, and with a few steps, Keekzee was able to come alongside her, although he still had to walk quite close. “Most decent hotels have drying vacuums you can rent. Sort of like those ones you use to clean carpets—oh, it's not that funny,” Keekzee added quickly when Viina whipped her head to look at him with a wide, toothy smile.
“I said nothing!”
“Uh-huh, it's perfectly normal and really the best way to get dry. Most places have dedicated ones for dragons, but I've stayed in some places where I wasn't so sure,” he explained, rolling his eyes when he saw Viina trying hard not to laugh. “The hotel I worked at mostly had fur dragons due to the snow, so every room had its own, and housekeeping would clean them daily. Funny story, actually…” he started, glancing toward her to see if she was listening.
“This one time, I was out on the eastern slopes dealing with a pack of wild boars when I got caught in a sleet storm. The winds were so rough that I couldn't fly back to the main resort, so I had to walk through half a metre of snow to get to one of the residents’ cabins,” he explained, pausing to let another dragon pass beside them. “Kind human couple, though the look on their faces when they opened the door was kinda funny. I must have looked like something from hell, covered in all sorts of nasty. The man fainted right there… poor sod, almost cracked his head on the floor,” the drake continued, frowning. “Where was I going… Drying vacs! Yes, that's right. So anyway, while the wife—or girlfriend—tended to him, I used their bathroom and got myself civilised. But with the storm, I couldn't exactly leave. The woman was very curious about my fur, and once I showed her how the vac worked, she spent most of the evening helping to dry me off.”
The mental image of a woman fawning over the large drake made Viina giggle, and she looked at him with a playful expression. “Oh, I bet you loved that. A little human taking care of the big, strong Keekzee,” she teased, laughing when he coiled his neck back and smiled sheepishly. “Did her little hands make you feel big… bigger?”
That made the drake laugh happily before stepping even closer to her side and lowering his head so he could speak more quietly. “I think she learned something about herself that night. Her man just sat in the cuck chair and looked miffed. I think they were planning something else that night, but I kinda ruined it.”
Frowning, Viina tilted her head and deliberately looked confused. “Cuck chair? What's a cuck chair?”
“Oh, it's that extra chair or cushion in the room that points toward the bed. It's incredibly common in hotels…” Keekzee's words drifted off as he realized Viina was joking and already knew exactly what he was talking about. His trust in her made her laugh quietly until she shook her head to compose herself.
“So, you spent the evening being groomed by a human, did you? Did it just stay as grooming, or did you really make the man jealous?”
“Hey, what happens on the slopes, stays on the slopes,” Keekzee replied with a guilty expression as Viina snorted in amusement. “No, nothing happened. Once the storm eased, I got out of there. The owners gave them an extra night as compensation.”
“That’s nice of them,” Viina mused, catching a glimpse through the market stalls at another row of goods. However, it wasn't the wares that caught her attention, but the sight of Kooa and Daazuh standing under one of the stall’s awnings. The large aquatic seemed to be having some difficulties with a harness that didn’t fit him properly, while the Australian drake helped by adjusting the straps and moving his paws across Kooa's flanks. Viina wasn’t entirely sure if it was the light, but the aquatic’s frills seemed a more vibrant green as he allowed his friend to assist him.
“Yeah, they’re a good sort,” Keekzee continued, unaware of what Viina was seeing. “Riilary always makes a mean Christmas roast, and her mate Jeremy is super respectful. The sort of boss that rolls up his sleeves and helps before bothering you on your days off.”
Tearing her attention away from the two drakes, Viina nodded along with what Keekzee had said. “Jeremy and Riilary, huh? Mixed couple?”
“Yeah, she’s a typical wingless fur whose family has owned the mountain for generations. He’s a pretty normal dude, and then there is their daughter….” The drake’s words trailed off before he paused to inspect a set of drink coasters made out of firm leather.
“Their daughter…?” Viina asked with a knowing smirk. “What's her name?”
“It’s rude to talk about your ex,” Keekzee replied, putting down the coaster and continuing to walk slightly ahead of Viina.
“Oh, so hold on—her family owned the whole mountain, right?” Viina asked and was met with a nod from the drake. “So, she was the pretty rich heir, and you were the… what… the one that was banging your way to riches and glory?” She continued, guessing that it wasn’t actually the case but wanting to get a rise out of the large drake.
“No! It wasn’t like that!” Keekzee retorted, but his smile made it clear he took no offense at her remark. “And one? I thought I was a five!”
“Well, that was before you told me you liked women tending to your needs,” Viina countered, bumping her hips into his to add to her tease. “But tell me this then—were you working there before you met her? Like, did she fall for the help? Or did they give you the job to keep an eye on you?”
“Fell for the help! Viina!” Keekzee scoffed with a laugh. “No, I'm pretty sure it was the latter. We went to a boarding school together, and I didn't have a job. So during the school breaks, I would fly up and hang out with her on the mountain while she worked. Then Jeremy kinda just started paying me and giving me a few jobs here and there. You know, cleaning the odd cabin, supervising the ski lift–” His words died in his throat as Viina snorted and then succumbed to a fit of giggles. “What?”
“Oh, nothing,” Viina lied, giving him a cheeky grin. “I'm just imagining you doing housekeeping, dressed in a maid outfit!”
“Oh, I bet you are!” Keekzee retorted, pulling his neck back and placing one forepaw forward to look more majestic. “But I'm sorry to disappoint, this drake doesn't wear lace,” he added before breaking the pose and bumping his hip into Viina's as she giggled at the idea.
“Aww,” Viina pined between laughs and nudged him back. “Definitely a four then,” she added, earning herself a snicker from the black drake.
Unconditionally, she began to slow her steps, pretending to peruse the wares and prolong the moment with Keekzee. She was enjoying her time with the tour guide and his stories, and found that the more he talked, the less she thought about herself and her past.
“So, boarding school, huh?” Viina asked, stopping to check out a pair of what initially looked like very large fingerless gloves, far too large for a human. Turning them over in her paws, her lips pursed as she saw that the palm had a few extra layers of leather sewn in to create a padded, cushioned section. Clearly, they were for paw protection, and as she sat on her haunches to compare their size against her own paws, she discovered that they were too small.
“Yeah, my folks loved me, though,” Keekzee replied, sitting down beside her to flick through the various paw gloves. “And technically, it wasn't a complete boarding school—just a school with accommodation. We were in a pretty remote area, and I was one of three in our grade that had wings. So having accommodation on campus was really helpful, although we all still went home on weekends.” Keekzee explained and fished out a pair of tan leather gloves that looked like they might be her size.
“Hmmm, I think my folks would have sent me there if they could afford it,” Viina mused, feeling her chest tighten as she brought down the mood. Forcing a smile, she took the pair of gloves Keekzee had found and tried them on. The leather was surprisingly firm, and due to its design, it would have been impossible to put on without the small zip that ran down the side. With the zipper undone, she wiggled her digits through the openings before pulling the glove up her paw as far as possible and then tried to close it. It was tight, but in a good way, as if it wouldn't slip while walking. After giving it an experimental step, she found that she could hardly feel the cobblestone streets. “I think I prefer black, but the size looks okay,” she added, trying to redirect the conversation.
“It's just like they say, once you go black…” Keekzee joked, holding out a paw to collect the gloves from her. Viina shook her head in mock disapproval as she slowly extracted her paw from the leather glove and then slapped the pair into his outstretched paw to emphasize her point.
“But you know that isn't entirely true. After going black, men are apparently the way to go,” she teased, making him snicker and put the pair back where he had found them. “So, how did a four like you manage to get with the heir of a whole mountain?” Viina asked, tilting her head in mock confusion. “Did her eyes look in different directions or something?”
Snorting in amusement, Keekzee shook his head. “No, no, she was perfectly normal and pretty.” He chuckled to himself. “Trust me, the jokes that followed us were constant. I was a bit of a weird kid, after all.”
“You? Really? Never?” Viina teased sarcastically, grinning to ensure he knew she wasn't being serious. “Why were you the weird kid? Did you smell weird or something?”
“No! It was because I had wings!” Keekzee retorted, shuffling the large black appendages against his sides to emphasize his point. “It's kinda rare in those parts. And I didn't help that I was way taller than most of the class, which only got worse in my final year. Made for some awkward photos during Studniówka—that's kind of our version of your prom.”
“Oh, so you were the tall awkward one, hey?” Viina teased while picking out another set of gloves. Though too large and not shaped for forepaws, she placed them against the sole of her hind paw to judge their size before putting them back.
“Yeah… Liiria was a pretty normal-sized ‘ness, maybe even a little shorter than average. But when we graduated, I had just finished a growth spurt, and her shoulders only came up to here,” Keekzee added. Viina glanced at him and saw that he had his forepaw just above his bicep.
Viina’s jaw tightened as a laugh tried to escape her maw, but she forced herself to remain composed, looking between his paw and his face. “Poor girl,” she muttered before grinning playfully at the drake, who glared back at her. “Did she have a size kink or something? Or was it just that the rich girl fell for the tall, dark, and handsome drake?”
“The latter. We were dating for the last few years of high school—or whatever you call awkwardly hanging out at shops,” he explained, passing her another pair of gloves to try on. These were a handsome pair, made of matte black leather with extra stitching down the middle of each digit to give them a more interesting shape.
“You mean like hanging out in marketplaces? Trying on gloves?” Viina asked, making the drake’s eyes widen slightly before he gave her a friendly smile. Pulling the glove on and zipping it up, she clenched and unclenched her digits to see how they fit and was pleased to see that they conformed nicely to her paw’s shape.
Turning her head to look down the drake's body and then to where he had indicated his ex had come up to, she couldn't help but smirk. “I can see why she went with a man. No offense, but not every girl wants to feel like they are laying an egg when they’re with their mate,” she added, laughing at the drake's expression. “I’m just saying, that can't have been fun.”
The drake didn't reply right away; instead, he took a deep breath and finally nodded. “It was a challenge, but we made it work,” he explained, waving a paw to dismiss the thought. “But that is all in the past. She has her man now, and I'm doing my own thing. No point hanging onto something that can't be.”
His words struck a chord in Viina's mind, and her smile wavered slightly as she began to undo the gloves. Slipping them both off her forepaws, she turned them over and paused when she saw the price hanging from a small leather tag. It hadn't taken her long to work out the exchange rate from her bank to the local currency, and she was taken aback by the exorbitant amount they were asking. Placing the gloves back roughly where she thought Keekzee had found them, she rose to all fours. Sensing that he might ask about the gloves, she quickly continued their conversation. “If she dumped her man and asked you back, would you?”
Keekzee didn't take as long to answer as she expected. He shook his head slowly as he walked beside her. “No... I don't think so. She is happy now, and we were kinda on the rocks for a while.” His sincere voice made Viina look up at him. Seeing her gaze, the drake flashed a pained smile before nodding. “Yeah, sometimes it's just better to let go and see what's ahead. You know what I mean?”
“Sure,” Viina said, without as much conviction in her voice as she probably should have had.
Her tone must have been noticed by the drake, who leaned in closer and gave her a small nudge with his folded wing. “Besides, it's like you said: tall, dark, and handsome. This drake won't be single for long.” He pulled his head up, curving his neck elegantly again. The cheeky grin and pose made the dragoness snort in amusement, which caused the drake to recoil as if stung, giving her an exaggerated look of offence. “You don't believe me?”
“I didn't say anything!” Viina whined with a smile and nudged him back with more force. Keekzee, for added effect, stumbled into the lane, almost colliding with another passerby, and quickly pulled himself back beside her. Laughing with the drake, she only stopped when she caught a glance from one of the other patrons. Looking around, Viina was grateful she hadn't drawn too much attention but also noticed a fair number of dragons, both as customers and merchants in the market. “I guess you're probably right. You're not the weird one here, are you? Almost everyone has wings.”
“The climate will do that. It's mostly because of how cold it gets where I'm from. It's not exactly inviting for winged folk to come and start a family unless they have ones like mine,” Keekzee explained, lifting one of his wings. Looking on instinct, Viina noticed that the leading edges of Keekzee's wing arms were much thicker than hers had ever been and now that she was so close to him, she could make out the slight bulges of wing fingers that ran from his wing wrist to the trailing edge, and guessed it was only natural for his wing structure to be similar to her own rather than that of a bird's.
Folding his wings back against his sides, the drake dipped his head while walking. “That being said, I would be lying if I said I didn't feel the cold some days.”
“Even with your fur?”
“The fur helps a lot, but feathers only go so far, and flying can get pretty cold. They are still large surfaces, after all,” Keekzee explained, chuckling before giving her a sheepish smile. “Back at the slopes, if I ever wanted a day off, I'd bitch about the cold until the owners let me stay indoors.”
“Oh really?” Viina asked, smirking when he nodded. “And you're telling me that you did mandatory service?” she added.
“Did! Past tense!” Keekzee retorted, shuffling his wings again. “That ain't for me at all, but full respect to those who did, though.” He looked toward her to gauge her reaction.
Viina could feel his gaze as she paused briefly to let another patron pass before she looked at him and tried to change the subject. “How did that go with your ex? You said you were dating during high school.”
Her question made the drake shift as if slightly uncomfortable, but he answered after a brief pause. “I think that was kind of the beginning of the end, if I'm honest. It's only the males who have to do it, and while I was there, she was out exploring Europe. When she came back and I was done… I don't know, things were just kind of different.” He shrugged his wings. “I guess we both kind of grew up a bit after that. I wanted to go back to what we had, where we would hang out at work. But she wanted to explore more of the world,” he added, chuckling. “Which is ironic, as now I'm traveling the world, and she is settling down.”
“Well…” Viina started, then worked out what she meant to say and turned to him, tilting her head. “I guess it all worked out in the end,” she offered in an attempt to reassure him. “Like, she has a man. You have Myyrah. Both of you have come off pretty much the same,” she added with a playful grin.
The drake’s powerful glare made Viina's smile deepen and her frill flatten against her neck sheepishly, but it was clear he took the joke well as he shook his head in defeat. “Both of them might be Americans, but I still feel like I got the short end of the stick,” Keekzee remarked before turning to her with a knowing look. “If I had a human, then at least I would have a little person to groom me–” The drake's words were cut short by Viina's snicker, but he didn’t stop. “’Cos you know, us fours need all the help we can get!”
“Oh, I could see you now—big black Keekzee sitting by a fireplace with a storm outside, book in paw, and a human brushing your rump–
“Mmmmhmmm, heaven!” Keekzee hummed, tilting his head skyward with a look of contentment on his snout. “You had me at fireplace and a book; the brushing is just extra. Maybe a cup of hot chocolate—you’ve got yourself a great excuse to lose a few days,” he added warmly.
“Hot chocolate? I didn’t realize you were still a hatchling.”
“First of all, there aren’t any age limits on hot chocolate. Second, you can’t look me in the eyes and say you wouldn’t want to be next to a fireplace with a hot chocolate,” Keekzee started, then looked ahead dreamily. “Maybe a couple of marshmallows thrown in, dim candles, the howl of the blizzard outside, the crackle of dry logs roasting in an open hearth, the bone-warming heat from it all.”
“Okay, you make it sound pretty good. I’ll have to try it someday,” Viina replied and was surprised when Keekzee looked back at her in horror.
“What? I never had a fireplace growing up,” she explained, her crimson frill flicking up defensively. “And when I was in the corps, lighting fires would give our position away, especially in adverse weather.”
“Geez, your childhood sounds like a tragedy!” Keekzee exclaimed and missed her frill flattening as he looked ahead. “I mean, no fireplace!? Tell me you at least had an iron stove?” He glanced down at Viina as she shook her head. “That’s gotta be against the Geneva Convention or something. Every dragon should sleep next to a fire once in their lives… never!?”
Viina found some amusement in his version of a tragic childhood and shook her head. “There was a fireplace where I stayed in Paris. But I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to light it,” she offered, shrugging her wing stumps. “Although I still say that hot chocolate is for hatchlings—”
“Aren’t we all just hatchlings on the inside?” Keekzee replied quickly, pausing to scratch his chest with a forepaw. “You’ve got to try it, though. A big bowl of hot chocolate, waaay too many marshmallows, a bear-skin rug, and a book,” he continued, waiting for Viina to nod. “Or, if you insist on not drinking hot chocolate, a good Merlot or spiced mead. That stuff warms the soul and can heal any wounds.”
His choice of words made Viina scoff, and when she glanced at him, she saw a look of regret in his eyes.
“Heals anything, huh?” she teased, changing her voice to that of an optimist hatchling. “You mean it will fix my wings?” she added and immediately regretted it. It was a natural reflex to offer a sarcastic remark, and she knew it. Now she feared that she was pushing the drake away.
“Well…” Keekzee started before a whimsical smirk formed on his snout. “Yeah!” he added confidently, making Viina raise an eyeridge. “I promise you. A big blizzard outside, and I mean a proper one—one that howls through the trees and makes it feel like the rest of the world is gone except for you and your cabin. And a roaring fireplace with thick, barky logs that crackle and pop. A book that’s a few inches thick, with the occasional picture, and a hot chocolate that you could drown a child in. All of this, after a way-too-big roast dinner, of course. Then, with those things combined, you won’t want your wings—you won’t want to fly anywhere.”
The imagery made Viina's chest warm, and the drake’s attempts at digging himself out of the hole he had made all made her swoon slightly before she caught herself. Shaking her head slowly, in a way that made it clear she wasn't denying his suggestion, Viina continued to walk. “That does sound pretty good,” she admitted before looking across at him. “Maybe on top of a mountain—”
“Well, of course!” Keekzee added, grinning. “Maybe a few humans to polish your scales too.” He added, making Viina chuckle once again. “Their little hands do have a way of getting to the hard-to-reach places…”
“Ah, so you do have a thing for the two-legged folk. Seems your ex isn't alone in that—”
“No!” Keekzee corrected quickly before swallowing and ruffling his wings. “I mean, I don't have anything against them. But, like… Liiria was already kinda small enough,” he explained with a self-conscious laugh. “And I wouldn't want to hurt someone who was that ambitious.”
“Aww, aren't you sweet,” Viina cooed, making the drake pull his neck back and tuck his wings in tighter, assuming a more prideful posture.
“Tall, dark, handsome, AND sweet. Careful, Viina, anyone would think you're hitting on me.” Keekzee joked and nudged her with a folded wing. “I'm okay giving you a ride to Venice, but I don't want you getting your hopes up or anything—”
“Sorry, Keekzee. If only you would wear lace. Then maybe,” she lied with a laugh, which made Keekzee join in. Movement ahead of them forced them to stop and watch as the familiar faces of Myyrah and Liinal came walking toward them. Although they walked one slightly ahead of the other, the countless bags hung on their harnesses made them appear twice as wide as usual and forced many of the other patrons to squeeze against the market stalls to let them pass.
“Oh my god, Viina! They have whole stalls of designer gear! Next aisle over there might be some still left, if you're quick!” Myyrah exclaimed in her overly nasal Bostonian accent. “They are, at worst, half the price of what they charge us back home—all genuine!” She added as she pushed past Keekzee, her head snapping to the next stall to see what loot they could find.
With the stalls counter to one side and Keekzee pressed against her, Viina felt momentarily trapped until the pair had passed, and Keekzee quickly gave her space. Turning her head to watch the two Americans continue their hunt, Viina flicked her eyes to Keekzee, who looked mildly annoyed. “Copies?”
“Oh, yeah,” Keekzee mused, scratching his bicep with a forepaw. “I just hope she doesn't want us to come back here once she works it out.”
Arriving in Venice as the sun was setting looked almost magical to Viina. From the long bridge spanning the width of the lagoon, the group had received an unobstructed view of one side of the city and looked on in awe as the golden sun reflected off the domed rooftops and ancient terraces. Every building appeared steeped in history, and those that once had shiny copper domes had long since turned green with age. With the sun nearly at their backs, the facades of the buildings burned a vibrant orange, while the harsh shadows cast by their architectural details made each structure look even more noble.
As the bus rattled across the last lengths of the causeway, Viina found herself cataloguing the skyline. Bell towers rose like brick needles, some listing ever so slightly, onion-like domes layered like scales. Low, saw-toothed rooflines broken by squat chimneys shaped like inverted funnels. Even at this distance she could make out the gleam of pale limestone banding the corners of certain palazzi, like a white skeleton bracing warm red brick.
Closer in, the buildings gathered tightly around hidden courtyards and often looked as though they were leaning in to touch one another. Windows were a language unto themselves, some were like arches from a gothic movie, others like sober rectangles with pediments from the later palazzi. Many of the balconies were barely deep enough for a dragon to land, yet they were held aloft by thick stone corbels carved with leaves and beaks and tiny curled tails that time had softened but not erased.
Completing their journey across the bridge that connected Venice to the mainland, the road continued only a few hundred yards before tightly turning back toward the bridge. Large pull-off areas lined the street, and Viina counted a dozen buses similar to theirs, all stopped to let passengers disembark. Slowing to a crawl as one bus abruptly pulled out without signaling, Emanuel seized the opportunity and maneuvered into the departing bus’s space, parking just an inch from the curb with room behind to allow the top-deck passengers to exit.
From the top deck, Viina could see how the city began abruptly. The tightly built buildings looked almost as if they were a proud phalanx holding back the tide of water, and were failing. Ahead, a glass-and-steel spine of a modern bridge arched low over a canal, its ribs catching the last light like a fish’s back. Beyond it, the Grand Canal revealed itself in snatches. A slate-green curve edged with tall wooden piles that had been driven into the lagoon’s floor, each bound by iron collars and littered with countless small black boats tethered to them that bobbed in the current.
To the right, a broad white church fronted a small campo, its steps descending almost to the canal. The facade was made up of crisp geometric shapes, yet the corners were feathered with age. Farther off, a long quay lined with low, brick warehouses, each banded with white stone.
Even the practical things felt theatrical. Timber bollards leaned at crooked angles, ladders of iron struts clung to walls where, at high tide, a resident might climb directly from a bobbing skiff to a kitchen door. Rain gutters ended in carved animal heads, and downpipes spilled into copper scuppers stained black-green. Rooflines bristled with lightning rods and little rooftop altanas—bare wood platforms like open boxes—where once, Viina imagined, people might have climbed to dry laundry and watch for sails.
She tried to imagine the city without the sound of motors; to strip away the diesel rattle of buses and the hiss of air brakes and hear only water patting stone and the hollow thrum of oars in forcole. In that imagined quiet she could almost hear the buildings themselves: old beams swelling and settling, lead flashing whispering, bell metal cooling toward night.
Emanuel killed the engine, and still the city seemed to hum with its own music. Venice was not merely picturesque to Viina; it felt engineered in layers, an improbable machine for living, assembled out of brick and prayer and the steady persistence of piles hammered into mud. And now, with the day closing, it presented itself like a stage set waiting for its actors to step down the bus stairs and enter, one by one, through the right door.
“Alrighty folks, welcome to Venice!” announced Keekzee, his voice coming through the speakers mounted just next to Viina. “Our hotel is only a short walk from here. If I can get you all to collect your bags and meet me near that sign that says San Marco, I’ll get us to our hotel.” Viina looked back to see the black drake stepping down from the ramp at the rear of the bus. With the hiss of the brakes and the subtle sink of the suspension, everyone took it as their cue to rise.
Sitting at the front of the bus’s top deck, Viina had to wait for everyone behind her to collect their belongings and step down. The knowledge that this was where her ride ended weighed heavier on her mind than she would have liked, and she began to wonder where her journey would take her next. A small part of her had enjoyed the structure of the tour and not having to worry about how to get to her next destination. Likewise, the drake’s stories and insights into the country’s rich history were something she would miss. Thoughts of joining them for tomorrow’s tour were tempting; perhaps she could even book a last-minute room at the same hotel. The idea faded when she overheard a guest remark about their hotel being five-star and quite lavish. Since they weren’t on the mainland, she guessed the hotels would be more expensive, and she knew she didn’t have an exorbitant amount of money to commit to a place she would only use to sleep.
Finally, as the last guest stepped off the bus’s rear ramp, Viina collected her tail bag of toiletries and other effects, curling around herself to lock the clasps at the base of her tail. Satisfied it wouldn’t slip, she rose to all fours and padded down the length of the bus. Waiting on the pavement was Keekzee, the large drake sitting on his haunches, leaning to one side with one paw holding a heavy, boxy black bag. Beside him, Emanuel worked to secure the straps of the bag to the drake’s harness.
“Karaoke,” Keekzee explained when Viina gave him a puzzled look. “Hotels don’t always have a machine, so we bring our own.” He glanced under his wing to check on Emanuel. “That goes over that one… yeah, that’s it… and then pull it tight—” The drake’s voice shifted to an undignified yelp as his wings flared while Emanuel heaved on a strap. Startled, the man jumped back and looked up at Keekzee in concern. “You pinched some fur,” Keekzee clarified, shifting his paw from the bagged speaker to where the buckle had caught him.
“Scusa, Keekzee–” the man began, but the drake dismissed him with a wave of his paw and a shake of his head.
“It's okay, I've got plenty more fur,” he added to reassure the man, then flashed Viina a warm smile. “Thank you, Emanuel. I guess I’ll see you in two days. Try not to eat just petrol station junk food,” he added, grinning at the man, who gave a brief bow and replied something in Italian.
Viina glanced between the dark drake and the rest of the group. Thankfully, none of them were paying any attention to their host; they were either taking photos of the buildings or looking into the windows of the various shops that lined the drop-off area. “So…” Viina started, not quite sure what she wanted to say.
“Yeah…” replied Keekzee, his voice equally uncertain. Shuffling his wings, he fidgeted with the large speaker hanging from his harness, looking as if he had more to say but wasn’t sure how to say it.
Sitting down on her haunches in front of him, Viina gave a polite dip of her head and a smile that caught his attention. “Thank you for giving me a ride, Keekzee,” she said, feeling as if she were a hatchling thanking a friend’s parents for giving her a lift after a playdate.
“It was nothing!” Keekzee said, waving a paw. “Emanuel did all the work,” he added, a hint of playfulness in his voice that made Viina smirk and her frill perk up.
“Still, it saved me a hell of a walk.”
“Well, it was my pleasure… and thank you for hanging out with me in Florence. It's rare to get time away from the group, and I really enjoyed talking to you,” he admitted, holding her gaze. Looking into his powerful, yellow eyes, Viina saw a sincerity that made her heart skip a beat and her scales feel warmer. A part of her felt as if she shouldn't have enjoyed her time with the drake, that she was somehow cheating on her mate. However she couldn't deny that it had been a refreshing change from her lonely travels and the thought of being surrounded by strangers for the rest of her time in Italy weighed on her mind.
Clearing his throat and looking back toward the group, Keekzee tried to appear nonchalant, curling his tail loosely to one side. “So, ah… did you have a hotel booked?”
“I hadn't planned that far ahead,” Viina admitted, meeting his gaze when he looked back at her. “I guess I’ll just walk until I find one that’s vacant.”
“They might have some rooms where we’re staying. It's a beautiful old building from the fifth century… or rather, I think it's just the foundations that are that old; the structure itself is a bit newer,” Keekzee explained, tilting his head in contemplation. “If you call the tenth century ‘newer,’” he added, his tail twitching in amusement.
“Well… I guess technically it is. But I think I'll find somewhere a bit cheaper; it's just a place to sleep after all,” Viina explained, shaking her head as Keekzee opened his mouth. “Thank you, Keekzee, but I couldn't accept a handout… again.” She saw him visibly deflate slightly. “Sorry, but you’ve already done so much for me. It's not fair on the others—they paid money to be here.”
Nodding in regretful understanding, Keekzee dipped his head before pulling it back and giving his group another look to make sure they hadn't wandered off. “I understand; I didn't want it to feel like a handout,” he murmured, lips twisting into a lopsided smile. “But tell you what—join us for dinner, and I'll call us even,” he added, catching Viina off guard and making her frown in confusion.
“What? I'm already in your debt… that's not how this works—”
“Does it matter?” Keekzee asked, tilting his head and curling his tail tighter around his paws. “Besides, it would make me feel better knowing that you didn't skip another dinner,” he added, softening Viina's look of confusion. “And I promise I won't ask you to join us for karaoke,” he said, lifting a paw to place it on the front of his harness in an honest gesture. “Although I can't promise you won't laugh at Kaariyo trying to sing.”
Viina couldn't stop the smile forming on her snout, nor the frill flattening against her neck in uncertainty. “I don't know, Keekzee…” she started but couldn't find the words to finish her sentence.
“That must mean you’re hungry. It's always hard to make decisions when you're hungry,” he countered, leaning closer to lift himself onto all fours. “Come on, it will be fun,” he added with a confidence in his voice that made it difficult to say no. Turning toward the group, he looked back at her with a genuinely friendly smile that broke down the last of her resolve.
Taking a deep breath and looking away from the black drake, Viina scanned the various buildings around her and noticed that the signs were all in Italian. She knew she could find a hotel and a place to eat without speaking the language, but the thought of wandering the streets alone without the drake made her rise to her feet and take a step toward Keekzee. “Fine. Dinner sounds good, but I'm serious—no karaoke.”