FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Liolyn pressed down the collar of the long coat she wore over her dress. The heavy thing, made of shed dragon scale, pushed down her tailfeathers in a rather discomforting way, but it was better than the frigid cold of Kor's Stairway. The gryphon took one last look in the mirror by the door to her studio apartment. The coat was stitched together from sets of blue scales that matched the bright blue of her feathers. The top of the coat opened to her dress, a royal purple with golden trim. The feathers around her collarbone, grown thick for the weather, were a glossy black that climbed up her neck to the rest of her face. Her triangular, cat-like ears ended in tufts of blue. Her hair, thick dark curls, cascaded down her back and disappeared in her mane. She took a moment to adjust the golden hairpin holding her hair in a side-part, then took another deep breath, and stepped out of her small room into the wider consulate.

The Kor Consulate for Bipedals housed every ambassador to the Kingdom of Kor. The polished limestone floors were cold against her scaly, black feet, and her talons clicked loudly across the floor as she started walking down a back hall into the main antechamber. It was the early hours of the morning, and so no one but a shaggy wolf who worked as a clerk at the front desk was awake. He nodded acknowledgement and said, "Good luck with your meeting, Lady Alabaster."

Liolyn did not stop her march to the door as she responded, "Thank you, Lymon, I'll let you know how it goes."

"I look forward to it," grunted the wolf before she opened the door and a blast of frigid air struck the gryphon.

"Kenna's cunt," Liolyn cursed before hugging her arms tight and hurrying down the broad avenue that led to the palace. Liolyn got up before the sun rose to get ready for her meeting with Prince Sirtas of House Cirrus. She had arrived at the Kor Consulate the night before, and, frankly, the young woman was excited and nervous. She spent half her life--fourteen years--preparing for the role of Ambassador of the Crown of Pinion, a set of nine federated city-states along Kor's border. Liolyn had always had a fondness of draconic culture, how their people's natural affinity for magic influenced everything from cooking to architecture.

As she approached the palace, she could not help but stop in the middle of the street, a hundred paces from the bridge to the palace proper. The complex existed in the crater of a long-dead volcano. In it was an iced over lake, surrounded on all sides right now by seasonal glacial buildups, except for the southern end where the city of Kor's Stairway spilled down the mountain in tiers. And the palace itself floated over the lake, balanced on a single pillar of rock that ended at a needle point before the whole thing expanded in a wide plane that cast a shadow over most of the crater. In the compound rose four marble towers, each thick enough to be three hundred paces across. Every one of them hosted a different royal family of dragons. Over the next week, Liolyn would make introductions to every prince of the families.

A gust of wind made her coat billow against her calves and, shivering, she continued to the bridge. There were no guards posted, but when she crossed the threshold to the bridge she felt the air shudder around her. It was the only safe way onto the palace, and even then required an invitation to cross it. She carried one such invitation in her coat pocket. Without it, hurricane force winds would rampage through the crater and cast anything that tried to enter the palace into the ice below.

The other reason the royal families did not keep guards was because, frankly, their powers were near godlike themselves. They had no threats. The Kingdom of Kor could rule the whole continent if it wished, but dragons did not seem interested in that sort of thing. They minded their business, and the lesser, bipedal races of the continent sought to curry favor for things as simple as a spell that would provide bountiful harvests, magical storms to unleash on rival kingdoms, etc. Dragons doled such things out sparingly, of course, and even though they did not control the continent, in some ways their influence was felt in every corner of it.

Crossing the bridge, Liolyn found the wind had died down some. Her ears twitched as she listened to ice grinding, cracking, hundreds of feet below her. Her breath puffed out above her black beak, and a gentle breeze carried it back towards the city. The marble towers practically sparkled in the early morning light as some of dawn's red hues struck them. They were even prettier at sunset.

Despite the seriousness of her mission, Liolyn felt a little giddy. She had read and dreamed of this place for so long that a strange part of her felt like she was coming home. The gryphon crossed the bridge, and the air suddenly turned warmer. She expected that but still took a moment to savor the more mild climate.

The palace gardens expanded before her in a maze of fountains, hedges, orchards, flowers, and plazas. Tiny streams fed through these spaces on a network that criss-crossed the gardens. Set between these spaces were the marble towers, with balconies and doorways on each massive story so dragons may fly between them with ease.

"You are early, little jay."

Liolyn squawked and spun to her right, already sweeping into a bow. Her right arm hugged her chest while her left arm and wing swept out. She did not even hear the dragon approach and yet--

Laughter. A rumbling sound with a little hiss at the end of it. The voice was deep and wide, like they were the vocal cords of a canyon come to life. It made her a little weak to hear the amusement. Heat flushed her cheeks, and Liolyn thanked Kenna for her black plumage that hid any blush.

"You may rise, Lady Alabaster, I assume?"

Liolyn did with a smile. "Yes, your highness." Liolyn was no stranger to dragons, so she did not flinch or stare in awe of the creature before. Walking on all fours, Prince Sirtas was a buttercup yellow-scaled dragon twenty-five feet in length from snout to tail and ten feet tall at his shoulder. A healthy size for a dragon. Flecks of amber scales, like a stripe of freckles, covered his muzzle and shoulders. His ears were deer-like, and his horns were a rack of antlers white as the marble towers around them.

Sirtas had come from around a hedged-in plaza, turning the corner not ten paces from the gryphon. He said, "You must be hot in that coat."

"It is fine, your highness, I--"

"Nonsense, Finn, take it from the lady, would you?"

Coming around the hedge, a much smaller dragon stepped out from behind the other dragon. This one was tall as a horse, a little longer in length but no match to the average dragon. His scales were a deep forest green that reminded Liolyn of the verdant canopies of forests of her home. Her village was built in the foothills overlooking the forest. She had an unmatched view every morning of the rising sun casting so many different shades of green across it, and the morning sun seemed to do the same to this dragon. He walked on all-fours as well, wings tucked demurely to his back. His front had softer yellow complexion, close to his master's hide. His horns were two black points sliding backwards, and his yellow eyes stayed fixed to the ground. The Finn was totally unremarkable, but something about him made Liolyn nearly gawk.

And when Finn reached her and looked up to take her coat, he stared back. They both studied each other as an unmistakable sense of recognition passed between them. Liolyn had never met this dragon. All Finn lived on the palace grounds serving the royal family. They were a breed of runts who were magically dead. Spells neither affected them nor could they use magic, making them the perfect docile subjects to attend to the royal families' needs. They were creatures never even spared a name, utterly disposable from one to the next.

It had always been a cultural practice Liolyn disliked, but she was never one to judge the customs of dragons. A dark spot in her adoration for their people that she assumed she was totally capable of ignoring.

But from the moment she locked eyes with this Finn, something clicked. She knew he felt it, too. It was like all her longing and work for this position was not to live among dragons and know them as best and intimately as a gryphon could, it was to meet this Finn.

"I..." she hesitated to speak, but before she could say more Prince Sirtas snapped, "If you spend any more time ogling our guest I will have you blinded to be sure your manners are kept in check."

The Finn grunted and quickly swept behind Liolyn. He undid the buttons along the back of her coat, opening the back so her wings could come free of it. Dragons had quite dexterous forepaws, something she learned in intimate detail from the professor that taught her draconic in the Crown. He slid the coat off her back and draped it over one wing as if the appendage was no more than a coat rack.

Her dress had ruffled sleeves that ended at the elbow, showing just the hint of blue feathers before descending into the smooth, scaly flesh of her black arm. Liolyn wished she had the privacy to smooth out her tailfeathers. She tried her best to fan them out to straighten them some. Like her wings, the long feathers started blue and ended black.

She nodded to Prince Sirtas and said, "Thank you, your highness."

Though it was the Finn who served her, she knew it was a major faux pas to ever speak to them or even acknowledge their service with a glance. The fact this Finn stared so long at her likely meant he would receive a lashing by the end of the day.

The thought of that made her a little sick. But she bottled it as the prince gestured to the nearest marble tower. "My suite is on the seventh level. Give me fifteen minutes to prepare and I will meet you on the balcony you see there. In the meantime, enjoy the gardens. Your coat will be returned to you before you leave."

It would need to be. Without the invitation inside it, leaving the palace would be a death sentence.

The glorious dragon unfanned his wings, which were white as his horns. They were wide as a caravel's mainsail and twice the length of the dragon's body. The prince leapt into the air and a mighty flap propelled a gust of wind down on Liolyn that made her need to hold her dress down by the hem. The gryphon appreciated that Sirtas did not ask her to fly with him: she would have a hard time staying in the air if caught behind a single beat of those wings.

Curiously, the Finn lingered a moment longer. In the early morning, with the prince's back to them, the dragon spared the gryphon another scandalous look. When their eyes met again, the Finn flinched and made to walk back to the tower on foot.

"Wait!" the word came out Liolyn's beak before she could stop herself.

The dragon froze, back to hers. So long as it did not break one of the immutable laws Finn must follow or go against the orders of his masters, Finn was supposed to obey guests of the palace.

Keenly aware she might be putting this creature in mortal peril, Liolyn asked, "Is there a place less in the open where I may speak with you?"

The Finn started a little and looked at her incredulously. A series of decisions passed across his muzzle before his yellow eyes narrowed and he said, "Come."

He led Liolyn back into the plaza he came from. In it was a dragon-sized pavilion made of an unpainted and unfinished, soft-white wood. The wood soaked up the scent of some strong incenses, a smoky, waxy smell that made Liolyn feel a little more relaxed.

They both walked onto the pavilion before the Finn began speaking quickly, "Master Cirrus does his morning cleanse here, and incense must be lit before he wakes in the morning--so it should wipe away any trace of our scents and--" He started and came to a stop. Clearly mortified, he clapped a paw over his muzzle and shrank away from her. He said, "I am so sorry, Lady Alabaster."

Liolyn stared. Unlike Prince Sirtas and most dragons, the Finn had a voice of warm honey. The type she would want to hear sing or read poetry to her. She shook her head and took a step towards him. "It is okay, Finn. I wished to speak with you. You are allowed to speak."

His expression told her he did not believe her. Liolyn offered him a smile, and, shyly, he lifted his neck and smiled back. He admitted, "I, um, have never spoken so many words to someone else in my life. At least, not to anyone who wasn't a Finn."

"Hehe, is there something special about me, then?"

Flustered, the dragon's earfrills hugged close to his head and neck. "I... I am not sure."

Something about his shyness made him all the more alluring to her. The Finn was scared, though, so Liolyn said, "I promise I wish to do nothing that might see you hurt."

He chuckled. "You are talking with me, aren't you?"

She cringed. "I suppose you have a point."

"But I am glad you insisted on it. I... I do not understand it, but when I look at you I..."

"I recognize you," Liolyn said. She took another step to him, close enough now she could touch him. She wanted to, but resisted for fear of scaring him.

He did not pull away, but instead his nostrils flared. He sighed and asked, "Your perfume... it's made from coral heart extract?"

The sudden question made her stop and smell the feathers at her collar. It was the base in the perfume she used. "That flower only grows in a valley in the Crown, how did you know--"

"There is a garden here, tended by the Cumulus Family that grows them. When they bloom they are my favorite smelling flower."

The serendipity of this encounter was quickly turning from butterflies in Liolyn's stomach to full on nausea.

Earfrills drawn back again, Finn laughed a little nervously and said, "Sorry, I know that probably makes this all the stranger."

"No," she reached for his head. "Is it alright if I touch you?"

The dragon huffed and quickly scanned their surroundings in the empty garden. "It should be safe but--"

He was cut off when her fingers rested on his cheek. Warm, soft scales pushed out by a fine, delicate cheekbone. The dragon's muzzle hung open again. Her heart was pounding. The urge to lean in and embrace the Finn became so strong it alarmed Liolyn. She yanked herself away and turned her back on the dragon. She looked down at her trembling body and muttered, "Am I under some spell? Is this some cruel prank?"

"Lady Alabaster?"

She faced the Finn and saw he was also shaking a little.

The Finn said, "Did you, uh..." he checked around their little slice of the garden again, clearly on alert, "I should leave unless you have something you need to ask me?"

"You are a Finn, aren't you?"

"My Lady?"

"Magic cannot affect you?"

"We are tested at birth, and any who can be affected are killed. My being here should be proof enough."

Liolyn felt confused and betrayed. And beneath that, a revolting disgust at a bit of trivia she never knew about. She asked, quietly, as if the question was more for herself, "Then why does it feel like my whole life has been leading up to this moment where I might meet you?"

"I... I do not understand it, either, my lady." The Finn scratched at the wooden floor in agitation, leaving deep furrows in it with his claws. He was so distracted by the gryphon in front of him he did not even seem to notice. "If this is what it feels like to have a spell cast on oneself, I am not sure I wish to be afflicted with it."

It felt like he punched her in the sternum. Winded by his words, they stared at each other a moment longer before he said, "I must go hang up your coat and return to my duties before I am missed."

Liolyn let him leave. Her mind reeled so much just by the Finn's presence in her life that she stayed stunned in the pavilion so long she was almost late for her meeting with Prince Sirtas.

***

"Distracted, Lady Alabaster?"

Liolyn grimaced a little. "I suppose I am, your highness. My deepest apologies for it." She had been staring at the gentle amber liquid in her cup of tea. Inside it, she could not shake that Finn's face when he first met her gaze.

They sat on the balcony of Prince Sirtas' suite. Tall, heavy curtains blocked a view inside his bedchambers. While the dragon lounged opposite her with a small, polished wooden table between them, she sat on a cushion with her legs folded, positively tiny next to him. On the table was a tea service Prince Sirtas himself poured. She had a cup proportional to her size, and the prince had one the size of a bucket that was demure and delicate when he picked it up in his forepaw. The view around them, city spilling down in one direction, glacial mountainside on the other, was stunning.

"My company that much of a bore?"

"No no no!" Liolyn almost got up to supplicate herself before the dragon, but Prince Sirtas' laughter helped her refrain from doing so.

"Good," he rumbled, "I am getting quite old, but not so old to drone on and on. Perhaps a subject change is in order, hmm? What brings you here?"

"Your highness?"

Prince Sirtas' tail reached over the table and nudged her shoulder. "You, Lady Alabaster. So young, yet your draconic is flawless. The last gryphon the Crown sent us always held his tongue against the roof of his mouth too much when speaking draconic. Once, at a state dinner he accidentally said, 'the fish is poisoned' when he meant to say, 'the fish is delectable.'" The prince laughed. "Hah! It made quite a scene let me tell you, Lady Alabaster. And he was twice your age when he arrived here! He had twice as much time to master draconic as you did."

Chuckling a little at what must have the most mortifying moment of her predecessor's life, Liolyn admitted, "I was always quite taken with draconic. As a child. I first heard draconic from a bard visiting our village and I became transfixed." Blushing a little, Liolyn fingers played with her dark hair as she added, "Since then I tried to get every fragment I could. My parents saw my talent, so they were able to pull together their money and every favor and connection they had to get House Alabaster to agree to tutor me."

Prince Sirtas quirked a brow. "You mean you are not of noble birth?"

"I was adopted by House Alabaster a decade ago. It brings them great honor for me to represent the Crown, and they believed I would be selected once the previous ambassador retired."

"A great gamble to place on a single young woman," Prince Sirtas observed. He picked up his cup between thumb and index digit and took a sip from his tea. When he set it down he asked, "So a love of draconic drove you here."

Blushing a little, Liolyn glanced shyly off the balcony and asked, "May I admit something to you, Prince Sirtas? At the risk of sounding like a madwoman or dragon fetishist?"

"Heh, well now you must tell me!"

She folded an arm under her breast and squeezed her elbow. "Since I was a child, even before the bard, before I saw my first dragon, I dreamt of them. If I had not become ambassador, I think I would have eventually found myself in your kingdom one way or another. Draconic feels like my first language, not my second. And, frankly, your highness, I have never even found other bipedals attractive, I--"

Liolyn stopped herself when she noticed the very amused look on the royal prince's muzzle. Snickering a little, he said, "Go on."

Claws pinching into her arm, she said, "My only romantic encounters have been with dragons."

Prince Sirtas glowered at her. "Are you making an advance on me, Lady Alabaster?"

Liolyn squawked, springing to her feet and waving her hands, "No, no, no! Your highness I would never--"

"Oh, am I not to your liking then?" he growled, becoming haughty just long enough for Liolyn's beak to hang open. She did not know what to do or say until Prince Sirtas' mask of indignation cracked. He howled with laughter at her expense, tail beating against the balcony while he clutched his side.

Mortified like she just said "poison" instead of "delectable" at a dinner, Liolyn quietly sat down and took a long sip of her tea to hide her face.

When Prince Sirtas recovered his senses, he said, "Oh, thank you for that, my dear. I can tell I will enjoy having you here. Though, when it comes time to meet Prince Kerramot, maybe don't lead with your interest in us as bedside partners, yes?"

Staring at the table between them, Liolyn muttered, "Noted, your highness."

"Do you have any other questions for me?" Prince Sirtas asked.

It was midmorning by now, and Liolyn could tell their meeting was drawing to a close.

"No, your highness."

"Excellent. Finn, Lady Alabaster's coat?"

The curtain parted, and Liolyn's breath caught in her chest. But it was not the same Finn from before, and, quickly, she recovered her senses. A dragoness this time walked head bowed towards Liolyn. Her scales were a deep, sea blue, and she had similar features to the Finn from before. A part of the gryphon was relieved she felt nothing but a simmering sympathy for the creature. It meant whatever afflicted her was not some spell meant to make her fall for every Finn she saw. Fall for... had she fallen for that Finn? After a single, clandestine meeting?

This Finn helped Liolyn into her coat without incident. After the back had been properly buttoned, the dragoness retreated as if she never once intruded on the scene.

"At least the sister is not defective," Prince Sirtas muttered.

"Excuse me, you highness?"

"It is nothing," Sirtas said as he stood and walked with her to the edge of the balcony. There was no guard rail or impediment to protect from falling. After all, what dragon had to fear falling?

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Lady Alabaster."

Liolyn bowed again to the dragon, but said before she departed, "My lord, may I trouble you with a request?" She said it without considering the consequences, but instantly regretted it. She wanted to take it back but knew Sirtas was the type of dragon to insist she speak.

He said, "Of course."

"The Finn that made eye contact with me today," Liolyn said, "Please do not punish him too severely for his poor manners."

Prince Sirtas was considered one of the more patient and good humored of the royal dragons. But even he had an edge to his voice when he asked, "Are you suggesting I let his breach in conduct go unnoticed?"

"By no means!" Liolyn said quickly before adding, "I just mean, I do not believe he would do such a thing again, and that what happened was merely an anomaly in his behavior."

He studied her for a long moment then said slowly, "I would advise you, Lady Alabaster, not to feel sympathy for those creatures. Think no more of them than you would a broom. They are just tools we use to clean up after ourselves." Dread and fear curled into a tight ball in Liolyn's gut, but before she might beg forgiveness, Prince Sirtas said, "I will consider your request. You are correct that he has never acted out before. I will not blind him, and he will be lashed across the flank fifteen times instead of thirty. Is this sufficient, Lady Alabaster?"

Liolyn, with immense relief, bowed deeply and said, "Yes, Prince Sirtas. Your benevolence exceeds your already grand reputation. Thank you, your highness."

"Hmmhmm, you are correct in that regard, Lady Alabaster. I look forward to seeing you again."

Liolyn bowed one last time, managing a smile before stepping off the edge of the balcony. Her wings opened and caught the wind, and she glided for the bridge, heart racing a little. A mixture of fear, relief, and rage burned through her. She wanted to tear into Prince Sirtas for his cruelty, but she did not know how. The thought of that Finn being punished for looking at her made her sick. Sick of dragons for the first time in her life.

Liolyn landed at the edge of the bridge and took a few calming breaths before crossing it. By now, others walked along the bridge. She waved at the vulpine ambassador when she saw the vixen crossing, but most passerby were dragons. Her talons clicked across the polished stone, and she hugged her jacket closer as the comfortable, magically induced climate of the palace was replaced with the frigid air of the mountain top. Hands in her pockets, she felt among her invitation (a letter stamped with the Cumulus family's royal seal) another piece of parchment. A note?

She resisted the urge to pull it out. A single gust of wind could tear it from her hands at a moment's notice. She picked up her pace across the bridge and reentered the city proper, down Palace Avenue back to the consulate. She sighed when she got out of the frigid air, and went to the front desk. The room now had bipedal guests wishing to use the various services the consulate offered to the citizens and guests of the Kingdom of Kor. The front desk was now manned by three people and asked the same wolf from before, "Any messages for me, Lymon?"

"An updated itinerary for your meeting with Prince Gelvain, but nothing pressing, my lady."

He handed her an envelope and she nodded thanks before moving back through a door that led to the backrooms of the consulate. Here, each ambassador had a small apartment. Liolyn entered her room and stoked the fireplace inside before taking off her coat. She hung it up, retrieved the note and sat at her writing desk and read it by the light of a tall, narrow paned window foggy with frost and ice.

Dear Lady Alabaster,

It has only been an hour since we last spoke, and for some reason I feel compelled to risk my life to write you this letter. I do not understand why, but I already miss you. All my life I have lived with this pit inside me, and when I saw your face I felt whole for the first time. Your eyes are like the haloed violets Prince Sirtas cultivates in his garden, but never has a flower captivated me like your eyes have. And your scent makes me feel like I have come home after a long and weary journey.

What binds us is a mystery to me, Lady Alabaster. It maddens me. I left in a panic after our first meeting, but I have barely contained myself since we parted. I do not care if it puts me at risk, but I must see you again. I do not think I will be right of mind until I do.

If what you feel is akin to what I feel, and believe with certainty it is, then when you return to the palace leave a note where we met today under the pavilion steps. Be sure no one sees you.

Once I have heard from you, I will try to make arrangements for us to meet.

Your Finn

Liolyn must have read the letter four times before she finally set it down, heart doing leaps in her throat. As far as Liolyn knew, Finn were not taught to read and write. There was so much risk in this letter that the Finn would surely be killed for if found out. And it horrified Liolyn. She almost did not wish to respond if only to protect him, but the thought of doing so left her with an agony she did not understand. Now that she had met this Finn, she did not feel she could let him go any more than she could let go of eating food or drinking water.

She needed to know what was going on. The remainder of her day was free. She really should have spent her time reviewing the royal lineages in preparation for her meeting with Prince Kerramot as the dragon loved to prattle on about family histories and genealogies, but Liolyn was certain she knew enough for a passing conversation.

Taking out a piece of parchment, she began writing a letter to the Finn.

Dear Finn,

Today I cost you fifteen lashes across your flank. The next time we see each other, and I pray to Kenna we will see each other again, those scars will be because of me. I begged Prince Sirtas to forgive you, but still he insisted on punishment. It makes me sick to think you must live this life--that, like most outsiders to the palace, there is no more than mere mentions of what Finn are anywhere. You are considered a footnote, or, as Prince Sirtas said today, just 'tools we use to clean up after ourselves.' It disgusts me. It makes me sick to know that I cause you such danger, and I almost wish to ignore you just to protect you.

But it seems I am too selfish. Since our meeting, I, too, have been driven wild by this maddening sense you and I are meant to know each other. When I touched you today, I was barely able to keep myself from throwing my body against yours. It feels as though something else is at work here--some cruel machination of a heartless god to sow such a connection between us. And here I complain about the thought of you being harmed when you risk life and limb with a simple correspondence.

I wish to see you again, Finn. If I had the power, I would stand between you and all the wrath of the royal families combined to protect you. Such things are beyond a simple gryphon such as myself, but I will do what I can to hear your voice. Know you are not alone in this affliction, and I will risk all I can to protect you in these matters. Even my life, if I must.

Your Lady Alabaster

It was near noon by the time Liolyn finished writing the letter. She reached for an envelope so she might seal it, then hesitated. The letter already was thoroughly incriminating, but without the seal she could always deny it was her who wrote it. A moment's hesitation turned into a hard edged resolve as she snatched up the seal. She did not care. Let them find out it was her. She meant what she wrote.

***

The Kor National Library was the largest library in the world. It existed further down the mountain from the consulate, which was easily reached by flight. Frankly, Liolyn felt bad for the creatures of the city who couldn't fly about. The urban design was so clearly meant for it. The front entrance of the library could only be reached by flying up to what was the roof of the first floor. That roof acted as a plaza with four large statues of the dragons that founded the royal families facing a fountain in the center with an immaculate replica of the royal palace.

Liolyn landed next to the fountain and walked up a flight of steps and between a set of pillars to enter the library proper, sighing with relief when she got out of the cold. Along the entrance of the library, several fireplaces roared to bite back the cold, with more inside the interior of the building. It was still too cold for Liolyn to take off her coat, but she no longer shivered as she went to reception area to speak with a librarian.

A dragoness, a sleek marine sort with rose quartz patterned scales, bowed her head and said, "How may help you, ma'am?"

Liolyn did not mince words, "I am looking for texts on the Finn."

The librarian blinked. "I'm sorry?"

She expected bluntness would be needed. "My name is Lady Liolyn Alabaster, and I am an Ambassador for the Crown of Pinion. Today I had a strange encounter with a Finn at the palace. I wish to read more on them so I may not breach etiquette while at the palace."

Her reasons for the research were a lie, but one the librarian swallowed. "Ah, I see, Lady Alabaster. While there are not texts written on the Finn, I do believe there are some histories that mention them."

"These histories wouldn't be Netrikor's Treatises on Dragon Genealogies, would they?"

The librarian blinked. "Um, yes, that is what I had in mind."

Liolyn offered a curt smile that did not reach her eyes. "Thank you, I appreciate it."

She marched off to do some digging of her own. Netrikor's Treatises were beginner's reading on draconic histories. She read her first volume of it in draconic when she was sixteen, and all it mentioned on Finn was they were to be considered the lowest caste of dragon society. Bred for a specific purpose before moved to the palace to fulfill that purpose. Netrikor, nor any other dragon, called the Finn slaves. Officially, dragons abhorred slavery and would not deal with nations that trafficked in it. But what else could the Finn be? Given the one she met today, Liolyn knew for certain the Finn were rational, sapient creatures deserving of more than the treatment they received.

"Your eyes are like the haloed violets Prince Sirtas cultivates in his garden, but never has a flower captivated me like your eyes have." The line from Finn's letter made Liolyn gasp as she remembered it among a row of stored scrolls on the third floor of the building. She paused and ran a finger along her brow. No one had ever directed such words towards her. He'd practically written her poetry. And Liolyn was supposed to believe the Finn were no more thinking or feeling than a broom? Her beak pinched together in a frown as she dug through the scrolls, finding titles that seemed promising. They were older works, some before Netrikor's lifetime, before the time when dragons came to a diplomatic agreement and united as the Kingdom of Kor. There had to be mention of the Finn somewhere.

All the while she searched, Liolyn's mind revolved around her Finn. His shy expression, the warmth of his face when she touched it, the soothing sound of his smooth voice. She imagined that voice reading those lines in his letter. It made her chest flutter a little, and kept her buoyed even when she wasted the afternoon on a fruitless search.

***

Her first night of sleep inside the consulate had been easy. Exhausted from traveling and moving her things, she had merely fallen into bed with instructions of when to be woken for the clerk posted during the night.

Her second night at the consulate, after meeting the Finn, found her lying awake, listening to the wind beat against her window. Outside, snow was falling in harsh flurries. She felt trapped in her room, but what trapped Liolyn was not the weather or strangeness of a new place. What trapped her were desires she still did not fathom. One long chasm of longing had opened up in her chest, and she could not stop thinking about her Finn. She had found a code of how Finn should be treated, but it did not offer any insights. Still, while she lay on her back staring at the ceiling, the list rang off in her mind:

Finn shall never leave the palace grounds

Finn shall only eat, drink, and void waste in the privacy of their quarters

Finn shall not read or write

Finn shall never have a name

Finn shall never speak unless ordered to speak by a member of the royal family

Finn shall not fly unless in the case of an emergency for a member of the royal family

Finn shall submit all children to be tested for any magical resonance

Finn shall not keep any possessions

The list went on and on. Her Finn had already broken several of those rules, each one punishable with death. Liolyn wondered what others he had broken. Had her Finn ever known the joys of flight? Did he have trinkets or valuables he had stowed away in his quarters. Did her Finn have a name?

Liolyn took a deep breath, rolling over onto her side and hugging one of her pillows against her breast--as if she might smother this longing inside her.

Thunk thunk thunk

A solid, heavy knock on her door made Liolyn squawk a bit. She got out of bed, and in the dark groped for a robe in her closet. She wrapped it around herself as another knock sounded. Grumbling that it was much too late to be disturbing her thoughts, she opened the door.

And he was there in the doorway.

Liolyn's beak dropped.

"Lady Alabaster," the dragon breathed, like he was releasing a great pain by speaking her name. He pushed inside, having to wriggle his way through the door to fit in her apartment. She backed herself against the wall opposite the door, blabbering and trying to find words.

Eventually she managed, "How?"

The Finn stepped towards her, his face falling into a slant of moonlight from her window. "I just left. I just... I needed to see you, I couldn't wait any longer." His face burrowed into her front, and the sudden contact made Liolyn freeze up. He nuzzled into her bare stomach and took a deep breath. Whispered, "I've missed this scent."

That got her back to her senses. "Hehehe," giggling, she stroked down his neck and said, "It's only been a day."

"It's been an eternity..."

"Finn--"

"Rothishel," the Finn cut in, pulling back to look her in the eye.

She understood what he meant. "Your name." His expression softened. She caressed his cheek and whispered, "Rothishel."

He nuzzled into her chest this time, growling before he answered with, "Lady Alabaster."

"Liolyn."

"Liolyn?

"That's my name, Rothishel," the gryphon whispered.

Rothishel growled. "Even your name... everything about you is beautiful."

She giggled again, hugging his head to her chest. Her bust heaved against him as she took a deep breath, really smelling him for the first time. He was the petrichor that heralded the approach of a drought ending rain. She tucked her face into his nape and took another deep breath. The dragon whined a little as she did, and she sensed a clear need in him. A shared need.

He backed away and rose to his full height in the studio. "I want you, Liolyn."

The simple statement made her shiver a little. She shrugged off her robe and whispered, "I'm yours, Rothishel."

He huffed seeing her naked form in the dark. Just enough moonlight entered the room to catch her blue front, to show the curve of hip and thigh, the trimness of her waist and gentle slope of her breasts. But he did not rush to take her, instead his shyness returned and looked down at the ground. "I am, uh, inexperienced in these matters."

She laughed a little, which just made his earfrills pinch back and tail ball tight in embarrassment.

"I am sorry I am not--"

"No no!" Liolyn waved him off and stepped up to the dragon. "You misunderstand, your shyness is adorable."

He huffed. "Dragons are not supposed to be--"

She put a finger to his snout. "Hush. Your masculinity will survive. Besides, I am excited to be with you regardless of your experience. Most dragons I have been with are unfamiliar with bipedals, so I will be happy to teach you."

"Most?" Rothishel asked, clearly upset. "How-how many..."

"Relax," Liolyn cooed before turning back to the bed. her wing unfolded and ran across his cheek in a "come hither" gesture, and the dragon followed her to the bed. She whispered, "Think of tonight as a challenge--to make me want no other dragon."

He growled, a hunger to it. She fell back onto the bed, and he hesitated at the foot of it until she spread her thighs. In the dark, her sex was a black line that already glistened with moisture. The feathers around her plumped up mound were fine and soft to the touch as fur. Seeing it, Rothishel climbed over the foot of the bed. It creaked in protest but held under the dragon's weight.

Liolyn ran a finger across her sex, shivering and giving a soft moan. She did not even tell Rothishel what to do. His snout burrowed into her sex and the gryphon moaned. His touch jolted any concerns from her mind. Her hips rolled into his muzzle as he took a deep scent of her sex. It was no blooming flower in the royal gardens, but a spicy musk that made Rothishel snarl. The dragon's tongue spilled from his maw and dragged across her lips. Her labia, split by that muscle, sparked with pleasure, clit quickly engorging so it too may be touched. The gryphon moaned louder this time. Rothishel murred at her taste, and soon the oral muscle lapped across her sex. It rubbed her outer lips hard, slimy draconic drool heating Liolyn up. Her whole mound became a wet mess for Rothishel.

But she needed more, and she realized Rothishel would need guidance. She grabbed his horn and guided his maw down. Just enough for that probing tongue to finally drag along her opening. Rothishel murred when he found her entrance. Tongue dug its way inside her steaming vent. "Oh yes!" Liolyn gasped, her walls squeezing that writhing invader. The beastly tongue slithered deep as it could, its tip just teasing around her cervix. She felt its thick taste buds as they rubbed all along her sensitive walls. The stimulation coursed through her nerves. Her thighs twitched and closed around his muzzle. She felt pressure building inside her crotch, and the hand on Rothishel's horn went back to her mound. She worked her two fingers between his burrowing snout and her clitoral hood and started rubbing.

Her walls flexed at the sharp spike of pleasure, and a flood of arousal leaked around the muzzle eating her out. Liolyn moaned and did her best to hump into her lover's face. The pleasure and tension inside her quickly built as her fingers rubbed her dark button faster and faster. The stimulation verged on being too much, but with the tongue digging all around her passage, she was desperate for it. Desperate for a release she longed to share with this dragon. Longed for from the moment she touched him. A shuddering, shaking moan ran out her beak as her body found it. Her walls clamped down so hard they almost pushed Rothishel's tongue out her cunt before another rush of femme cum surged against his questing maw. She quaked, fingers on her clit going still as surge after surge of pleasure rocked through her body. Rothishel growled and managed to force his tongue back inside her. She milked it like it might breed her, and the dragon seemed content to massage her walls into a sweet numbness through her orgasm. Till the undulating organ inside her began to make her body heat up again.

Liolyn longed for a whole evening with this dragon between her thighs, but she smelled something else in the air. There was the bitter spice of her orgasm, but with it a meatier musk also had become apparent as Rothishel's arousal spilled from his slit.

Panting, Liolyn pleaded, "M-mount me." Rothishel finally ripped his head away, tongue slipping out of her with a little gasp from the gryphon. Trembling from her orgasm, Liolyn rolled over onto her hands and knees. She lifted her tailfeathers and offered herself to him. "Please, Rothishel," she urged. The bed squeaked and protested as he crawled completely onto it and on top of her. His body dwarfed hers. The dragon's forepaws rested above her shoulders, and she felt his throbbing length brush against her tailfeathers. The dragon's spade tip smeared precum on her feathers, and the virginal dragon shuddered at just that little taste.

Carefully, Rothishel settled his body against hers. The dragon's belly pinned her tailfeathers to her back, and one of his forepaws reached under her and grabbed her breast. Liolyn gasped at the rough squeeze, but puffed out her chest to encourage more. A rumbling growl moved through his body into hers, and she felt his slick tip bump against her vent. He thrust hard, but his cock pushed past her sex and between her thighs. It reached up past her navel, and the throbbing length squirted more precum into her feathers before it drew back. Rothishel was not the biggest dragon Liolyn had taken, but he might be the first capable of actually hilting her.

With urgency, the woman reached between her thighs and grabbed the drippy spade. She aligned it with her entrance, and Rothishel speared her with it. Liolyn screamed into the bed. Her body erupted in another orgasm as a foot of dark draconic cock filled her pussy. It was ecstatic, raging pleasure. The ridged tool clipped inside her, each mound of throbbing flesh caving in her labia before it sank inside, then release before the next caved her in again. She felt Rothishel's heartbeat through it and sighed as he came to a stop with his knot rubbing against her entrance. His tip was rammed against her cervix, an inch from battering its way into her womb.

Rothishel panted and whined. His cock twitched and jumped inside her. Liolyn could tell her virgin was holding back, close to the edge. Sighing, she pushed herself up on shaky arms. She reached up and touched his neck, drawing his head down. She wrapped an arm around his neck for support and whispered, "It's okay, Rothishel."

"Li-Liolyn."

"You're going to cum aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Do it, hah, you're so big inside me..." she gyrated her hips back on his knot, milking his dick with her walls. She moaned gently. "So warm and good. Cum Rothishel, claim me, breed me."

The dragon snarled weakly and began humping her. A few short, frantic thrusts that stabbed Liolyn's insides and made her moan before that dick buried itself inside her, knot trying but not quite tying her. His cock flexed and her lover came. She felt the cum pulse up the underside of his shaft before exploding inside her. Thick gouts of fertile, draconic cum filled her passage. It was the first time she let a dragon cum inside her without some contraceptive nearby or taken beforehand. But Liolyn didn't care. Her womb practically cartwheeled inside her as some deep need was sated when Rothishel's virile seed drowned her egg chamber. Dragons could breed anyone. And she knew with certainty after only a day that she wanted to be Rothishel's hen.

Liolyn held him close while the dragon shook and trembled. Cum overflowed her passage and spilled onto her thighs. Thick streams of it tangling into her feathers and adding the smell of draconic seed to the room. Liolyn reached back, other hand still holding onto Rothishel's neck, and scooped up some of the cum. She brought it to her beak and licked it off her fingers, moaning at the thick, heady taste of her mate.

The thought hit her like a battering ram. She stayed locked still for a minute, then let herself sink down into the concept. Her mate. Rothishel was her mate. Had always been hers. A sinking certainty they were destined for each other. Liolyn did not understand it, but she embraced it with a loving embrace.

***

Thunk thunk thunk.

Liolyn gasped and snapped awake. The door unlocked and cracked open before Lymon told her, "This is your morning wake up call, Lady Alabaster."

Groaning in protest, Liolyn said, "Thank you, Lymon." The door shut and the wolf went through the hall to wake the other residents of the consulate. Liolyn slumped back into her pillows. It had been a dream. A very wet dream, judging by the moisture between her thighs.

The gryphon sighed, dawn light pouring in through her window.

With that inescapable ache in her chest, Liolyn sat up.

Rothishel. That name... in her dream she thought nothing of it, but it was the name of the previous prince of House Stratus. Prince Rothishel had been famous for his generosity in gifting spells for other lands, but he had been overthrown and executed by the other Houses of the palace. Allegedly, he had been crafting a coup to take over the kingdom and reign as its sole monarch. The new Prince of House Stratus was a nephew of Rothishel's, as the previous prince had no seeming direct line of inheritance. Had her mind reached for the name in her dreams? Plucked one of the dozens of draconic names she memorized over the years?

Liolyn got up and went to her writing desk. Ignoring the stickiness between her thighs, she unsealed her letter and added an addendum:

P.S. Tonight I dreamed of you. We made love and you told me your name is Rothishel. Is this true, my Finn? Do Finns keep names? There are so many questions, but I know with certainty that I will do everything in my power to someday call you my mate.

Love, Lady Liolyn Alabaster