FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

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Chapter One

Alia awoke to the sound of rain. She could not recall falling asleep. The last thing she remembered was holding Valyrym. It was long since light outside by the time the old dragon reached the end of his tragic tale. By that point Alia would have told the Queen herself to get stuffed before she'd put her duties ahead of being there for her friend. She told Valyrym just as much, and then she simply held him until the old dragon's tears were spent. After that Alia simply shared comfort with him until his breathing lulled her to sleep. When she awoke she was still holding him.

When Alia had first dozed off, bright morning sunlight shone down through the air vents cut into the rock above Valyrym's prison. When Alia awoke the only light left was cold and gray, dimmed by the rain clouds. The sound of the rain was a steady, pattering rush like a whisper echoing on the wind. Here and there a few raindrops found their way through the air vents, and dripped to the floor of Valyrym's sleeping chamber. Alia watched the rain a few moments. She almost expected the droplets to be silver. Part of her felt a strange sort of disappointment that they were not.

Alia blinked a few times, still groggy. She doubted she'd slept more than a few hours. She was still pressed against warm scales that gently rose and fell beneath her smaller body. While the dragon had cried Alia cradled his head. When he had no more tears she instead lay against his body with her head against his scales. Valyrym had fallen asleep as well. The old black dragon's wedge shaped head was resting against a lilac toned pillow with a faded golden ruffle around the edges. It was one of the many stolen pillows he'd somehow smuggled into his cell.

When Alia spotted Val Junior, it very nearly broke her heart. Valyrym had the little cotton-stuffed black dragon clutched tightly to his chest plates. He'd wrapped both front legs around the little toy dragon as though it really were his son, and he would never again let go. Alia bit her lip, wishing Valyrym did not have to wake to such a heartbreaking reminder of what he'd left behind.

For a moment, part of Alia wished she'd never bought him that little toy. How could she have ever known what it would mean to him? Alia still clearly remembered the day she'd given it to him and told him she'd named it Val Junior. In that moment Valyrym had looked so horrified. At the time Alia thought she'd simply offended his stubborn draconic pride by presenting him a stuffed toy she'd named after him. Gods above, had she ever been wrong. How could she have even imagined the memories and feelings that must have flooded that dragon's mind the moment he saw that little black toy? Yet the very next day, there it was amongst his bedding.

Alia felt her throat tighten, and she grit her teeth. The last thing she needed to do now was break down and cry again. She took a deep breath, and let it out as slowly as she could. Gods. She felt as though she'd lived Valyrym's life. The tale he told felt as though it spanned years of her life. She would have never even considered the things that dragon had experienced, the pain he'd felt.

It was easy to see now why he was so afraid to tell anyone his tale, let alone Alia. She knew well enough she'd become his only friend here. The only friend he'd had in over fifty years. His only comfort in this terrible, dark place. Yet he was terrified he was going to drive her from his life if she knew why he was here. Alia lifted her hands, and ground the heels of her palms into her eyes. The dragon had abandoned his own son in order to pursue the vengeance that saw him take the life of a child. It was an accident, true enough, and yet the death of the child's mother was not.

Valyrym had burned that woman to death, and in the process, so too had her child burned alongside her. It was a terrible, terrible thing that was nearly unforgivable. And as the dragon spoke, his voice stretched taut with anger and pain, Alia saw his heart laid bare. Valyrym saw himself as a monster and a murderer, and he hated himself for what he'd done. The moment that child perished in the dragon's flames, the dragon gave himself up to whatever punishment both Gods and men could come up with. Alia suspected that Valyrym felt no punishment was great enough, no suffering too much to bear for the horrible sins he had committed.

Yet, all those years later, somehow the dragon found a friend. He'd found someone whom had grown to care for him against all the odds. The fear in his eyes she saw the night before, when she convinced him to open his heart and tell his story was unlike anything else she'd ever glimpsed in Valyrym's gaze. Alia knew he had grown to care for her greatly as well, and if she spurned him because she discovered he was far more of a monster than she ever imagined, it would shatter what little was left of the dragon's psyche. Even as it was, Alia saw little holding him together any more. His body was still strong, but his shattered heart and soul were broken towers scarcely held together by little more than a fragile network of threadbare patches and makeshift scaffolding.

It pained Alia to think that there was every chance in the world she might have come to see the dragon as the very monster he thought himself. If she had somehow learned of his crimes without knowing the rest of his tale, it would have been an easy assumption to make. Aran'alian or not, she knew little of dragons before meeting Valyrym. If upon being given her Warden's job, she had been told that the dragon was a monster who burned a child in his mother's arms, Alia would have thought him a vile thing. All she'd ever heard of dragons was that they were monsters. She would have thought that surely any beast cruel enough to incinerate an innocent woman and child was as wicked as they come.

But Valyrym was no monster. Alia thanked any God would listen for letting her get to know the soul behind those golden eyes long before she ever knew the crime he committed. In asking Valyrym to tell her what pain he carried inside himself, she had only wanted to help him unburden his heart. Alia had sworn to the dragon that nothing would change, and no matter what he told her, she would remain his friend. And in so doing, she offered to help the dragon bear his burden.

Only now did she realize what deep symbolism that simple offer must have held to him.

Alia sniffed a little, wiping tears from her eyes before they could fall. How different things could have been for him if only he'd stayed with Kylaryn. Part of Alia wished he had. Though she would never have gotten to meet the dragon, at least he would have been happy. Even after what he'd done, Alia found herself thinking the dragon deserved happiness.

As Alia rose to her feet, she found herself thinking about the child in that burning carriage. She sighed, adjusting her crumpled blue blouse. How old would that child have been now? Aran'alia had been gone for at least fifty years, and Valyrym had been here longer than that. There was every chance that if Val had not taken his revenge that prince would have long since grown old and faded from the world himself. The years of life that Valyrym had denied that child were matched by the years the dragon spent in this prison, and the years he was denied a chance to share with Valar.

Alia turned to stare down at Valyrym's head while he slept. She made up her mind about the old dragon then and there. "You have suffered enough, Valyrym."

Valyrym murmured in his sleep, shifting a little. His gray tinged nostrils twitched. Alia moved to crouch down alongside him, stroking his neck a few times to try and soothe him. She didn't really want to wake the old beast just yet. As long as his sleep seemed to be peaceful, surely it was better than what he would wake to.

Now that it was all over, Alia felt a little guilty for making him relive such terrible moments. It almost seemed as though the dragon had finally moved past the worst of it before Alia came into his life. Yet now everything was going to seem so fresh again. She hoped she had not done more harm than good in opening that old wound. She'd only meant to help drain the ill humors that poisoned his heart, yet she feared she may have cut too deeply.

At least now he would have someone there for him. Alia found herself smiling at that thought. She would be there for Valyrym every day. At this point, they would have to toss her in jail to keep her from visiting the old dragon as often as she could. Hell, perhaps she could got herself caught for some minor crime, and request that she be jailed alongside the dragon. The thought made her laugh, and she bit her lip to keep from waking Val.

The sound of water dripping against stone caught her attention, and Alia rose back to her feet. At the far wall of Val's sleeping chamber, some of the rain coming through the vent was starting to puddle on the floor. Alia didn't really want it to end up soaking all of his bedding. What did he call it? His soft things. Certainly his soft things needed a wash but the dragon did not need a flooded sleeping chamber.

Alia cast her gaze around the room, taking in the measure of the dragon's so-called collection. It still looked more like a hoard to her, but she'd let him call it what he wished. There were boxes and wooden crates stacked all over the place. Many of them were filled with spare bedding, or old clothing. Or so it appeared, Alia wouldn't have been surprised if they were actually concealing more contraband deeper within. Sets of simple shelves held things like old lanterns, a wind up clock she'd never noticed before, a few little figurines and other trinkets, and some various liquor bottles.

Many of the walls were lined with sturdy bookshelves of burled walnut and oak. They actually looked as though they would have cost quite a bit of coin when they were new, and Alia wondered once more just where the dragon had gotten them. She supposed it was possible they were here when he moved in, but if that was the case they had held up extraordinarily well. They did show signs of age and wear, but Alia suspected Val was exceedingly careful with them, just as he was with the many books that lined his shelves. A well worn red cover caught her attention as her eyes flickered across his many books. Faded golden lettering could still be read.

Of Poetry.

Could it be? That was the same book she'd selected to prove Valyrym could read. She simply thought it a good test of his reading ability. Surely, no dragon would bother with a book of poetry. Of course at the time she had no way of knowing that he would select to read a poem of his own. Or that the book would have such history for him. But...could it be the same book? It certainly looked old enough to be the once-blank tome that Amaleen shared with him.

Alia reached out and carefully pulled the book from the shelves, careful not to upset its hardbound neighbors. The book was in worse shape than she remembered. The red leather that held it was worn and frayed, but the roses embossed on the cover still stood out. The spine creaked when she opened it to the first page, and the parchment seemed dry and brittle. Yet despite being creaky, the spine was also very supple and worn. The dragon must have paged through this book a hundred times or more.

Alia looked down at the inside cover. The ink there was faded, but the inscription was still legible. What she saw made her heart skip a beat.

To my new friend Valyrym, May the poetry I've found in your heart ever shine, And may you fill these pages with the beauty I've come to see inside you. Amaleen.

"Dead Gods," Alia breathed. It was the same book. How on earth had he gotten it back? She glanced back at the dragon, a wistful smile spread across her lips. "I solve one of your mysteries and you present me with another."

Reverently, Alia closed the book and placed it back on the shelf. That book was probably Valyrym's greatest treasure here. Alia would care for it just as lovingly as she would care for Valyrym. For a moment, she ran her fingers along the fading lettering across its spine. Then she ran her fingers across a few more books, wondering how many of them were also beloved relics. Maybe he even had one of the books he used to read to Valar. Oh, she'd love to see that.

Valar. Alia sighed, shaking her head. She wasn't sure who she pitied more right now. Valyrym, or his son. From the way Val spoke of him, Valaranyx sounded like just about the most wonderful little dragon hatchling she could imagine. Alia would have loved to meet him. Of course Valar would have been grown up long before Alia was even born, so it would not have been the same. Wherever he was, Alia hoped he had grown up safe and happy. more than that, Alia hoped Valar had forgiven his father.

Valyrym deserved forgiveness.

If only he would give it to himself.

The sound of water dripping upon stone soon took on the increasingly distinctive patter of water splashing water. The noise drew Alia's attention once more. She frowned when she saw that the puddle on the floor was increasing in size faster than she'd anticipated. Alia spent a few moments digging through the dragon's various crates, boxes and piles of assorted junk and treasures until she'd located a suitable bucket. The search made quite a clatter but it couldn't be helped. Better Valyrym by awoken by noise now than a cold puddle soaking his bed a few minutes in the future.

Alia fetched a dirty blanket and used it to mop up the puddle, then replaced it with the bucket. Droplets of water plunked noisily against the wooden bucket, though their pace was uneven and it would take some time before the large bucket began to fill. At least Val's collection was safe from the rising tide for the moment, Alia thought with a smirk.

When Alia turned around, she saw Valyrym lifting his wedge-shaped head from the pillow. The old dragon scrunched his pebbly scaled muzzle, flaring his spines a little. His golden eyes were bleary and unfocused. He stared at Alia for a moment as if struggling to place her. Alia smiled at him, and approached to gently stroke his nose. She could almost see the gears turning behind his eyes as his waking mind struggled to cast off the shroud of dreams that had covered it so completely only moments ago.

"...Amaleen?" Val finally said, sounding both painfully confused, and heartbreakingly hopeful.

"No, Val," Alia said gently, taking his muzzle in her hands. "It's Alia. We...we fell asleep..."

"Oh..." Val blinked a few times, recognition starting to dawn on him. He took a deep breath, and let it out in a long sigh. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Alia said, smiling. She leaned forward and kissed his nose. "Were you dreaming about her?"

Val looked away for a moment. "...Yes."

Alia moved to settle down against Val's chest. He shifted his foreleg to make room for her, and as she leaned against his chest plates, Val enclosed her protectively in his grasp. Alia took Val Junior and settled him in her lap, then lovingly stroked the scutes along Val's front leg.

"You still dream about her a lot, don't you."

"...Yes," the dragon said again. He lowered his head to nudge Val Junior with his muzzle. "Him too."

"I hope they're good dreams for you, now," Alia said, lifting her hand to stroke Val's throat. "You deserve good dreams, Val."

"They are, mostly," Val said, sighing to himself. "The nightmares rarely come to me anymore. For that I am thankful." He laid his spines flat against his head, and then lay his head back down against the pillow. "The other day, I dozed off in the tub. It was right before you came to tell me about your friends, actually. I had a lovely dream."

"You sound as though you want to share it," Alia said, still stroking his leg.

A smile crept across the old dragon's muzzle. "It was all the lovelier because you were in it, Alia."

"Oh? Were you having a naughty dream, Val?" Alia giggled to herself as she teased the creature who had become her best friend. "Something about all your various human lovers putting on a show for you together?"

Val blinked, and Alia was happy to see the dragon smirk, even if it only lasted a moment. "No, but now I rather hope to have that dream the next time I sleep."

Alia leaned back against Val's chest plates, and cuddled the stuffed black dragon against herself. "So what was I doing in your dream?"

Val turned his head to peer at Alia. The black fabric that made up Val Junior's body stood out against Alia's blue blouse. For a moment, it almost could have been Kylaryn holding their son to her breast plates. For now, it was the next best thing. Valyrym smiled a little. "What you're doing now, actually. Holding him."

"Oh?" Alia glanced down at Val Junior. "Your cottony son, or your real son?"

"My real son," Val said with a hint of a chuckle creeping up his throat. "I was dreaming of Amaleen. She was dancing on a hill, in the rain. In her favorite dress. It's one of my favorite memories of her, and I could not clear it from my mind even if I wished to. She held Valar in her arms, and swung him around and around. He squealed in glee..." Valyrym was quiet for a moment, the ghosts of dreams drifting across his golden eyes. He smiled a little. "Then you were there. Amaleen smiled at you, and she passed Valar over to you, and you held him just as lovingly as she did."

Alia found herself beaming at that image. It sounded like a wonderful dream. "What happened next?"

Valyrym snorted playfully. "You woke me and told me your idiot friends were coming to visit."

Alia couldn't help but laugh. "Well, to be fair to them, only one of them is an idiot. The other's just a bit easily distracted."

The dragon snapped his jaws a little. "I should wonder what they say about you when you're not around."

Alia twirled a finger around one of Val Junior's curved horns. "That I'm quite bossy, and stubborn headed, I should imagine."

Valyrym cocked his head, grinning as he tightened his grip around Alia's belly. "Are you sure that's not pig-headed?"

"Are you calling me ugly?" Alia tried to act offended.

"No, I'm saying you're a messy eater, and you snort a lot."

"You're one to talk," Alia replied with a laugh. "I've half a mind to send Val Junior hurtling straight towards your snout!"

"I'm sure his namesake would be quite proud if you did," Valyrym said. The dragon laughed to himself but it ended in a sigh.

For a little while, Alia just lay against the dragon's body, stroking his front leg. Valyrym watched her in silence. Memories rolled behind his golden eyes in streams of images playing out in his mind. The old dragon had been buried under the Illandran castle for so long, he'd almost forgotten how an Aran'alian looked. When he'd first laid eyes upon her, he knew in some hidden corner of his mind. But it wasn't until he'd seen her with her friends that he truly thought about her heritage and her lost homeland.

Valyrym's lost homeland.

"You look so much like them," Valyrym murmured to himself, staring at Alia's face.

Alia's hair was like the feathers of a raven, black and full and lustrous. And her skin held that same, gently bronzed tone as all the others. Valyrym thought Alia's skin might be a little bit fairer than the average Aran'alian back home, but he imagined that was probably because Alia had spent so much time indoors over her life. Yet even a lifetime in the shade could not erase that beautiful natural hue. Compared to Alia, the dragon imagined most Illandrans must look sickly and pallid.

Also like most Aran'alians, her features were a little softer and more rounded than those of the average Illandran. Her nose was a bit small and round, her cheekbones only faintly noticeable. Even Alia's eyes held an almost almond shape, whereas Illandrans always seemed to have more sharply cut eyes as if they were constantly glaring. Glaring and judging. Perhaps that was in the dragon's mind. Alia's eyes glittered bright and green like mischievous emeralds.

Valyrym shifted himself, curling both his body and his neck a little bit. He moved his wedge shaped head down until he was practically nose to nose with Alia. He wanted to peer into her eyes. Alia didn't say anything, she just smiled at him. Alia lifted her free arm and gently stroked the dragon's throat, letting him stare into her gaze as long as he wanted.

Valyrym found himself nearly entranced by Alia's eyes. For as long as he'd known her, he'd found her eyes beautiful. There was something in them that had enraptured him from the very beginning. He hadn't really spent much time thinking about it, but now he wanted to know. Alia's eyes flickered and danced as Val stared into them. He could almost see the golden hue of his own eyes reflected in Alia's deep emerald pools. As he stared, a hint of a smirk flickered across Alia's lips.

"See anything you like, Dragon?"

It clicked. Valyrym knew then what he saw in Alia's eyes, and he spoke it aloud. "Defiance."

Alia blinked. That wasn't the answer she expected. "What?"

"Defiance, Alia," Valyrym whispered, pressing his muzzle gently to her cheek. "It's been there all along but I would not allow myself to see it. You walked down those stairs, you called me out, and you strode up to me bold as the rising sun. You knew I could strike you down if I so wished, and yet you defied me. You practically dared me to. ...Just like her." Valyrym swallowed hard and glanced away. "The first time I met you, you both defied me. You both thought me a beast, and you both came to see me as so much more. You could not mirror each more if you tried, Alia..."

Alia was quiet a moment. She eased her head back, and took Val's muzzle in her hands. Then she leaned forward and gently pressed her warm, full lips to the gray scales that surrounded the dragon's nostrils. She kissed him right next to the stitches that bound the fat pink scar marring his nose. Alia let her lips linger there for a moment. The dragon was so warm, the scales there were fine and soft. As she pulled her head back, she lifted her eyes to meet his own.

"She used to kiss me like that, too," Val said softly, glancing down at the old furs and blankets upon which the two of them lay.

"I know," Alia said with a little smile. "You told me many times throughout your tale."

"I suppose I did," the dragon murmured, licking his nose as if hoping to find Alia's taste still lingering there. "I hope that my ramblings did not go on for too long."

"I could listen to you for years, Valyrym, if you would but let me."

Valyrym's heart stumbled over its own rhythms, fluttering a moment. "...Why must you be so kind, Alia? Why stay with me, even now? You know what I've done. I am but a monster with a hollow heart, an aging shell and a bitter, poisoned soul."

Alia took hold of Valyrym's ears tightly enough to keep him from pulling away. "Shush! You're none of those things, Valyrym. I told you before, that whatever you'd done, you were not the same beast. And you are not. You have paid your penance, Valyrym. You have grieved for your losses, and you have suffered for your crimes, and you have done so in solitude for more years than I am likely to live. But you are not a monster."

Alia let go of the dragon's ears with a long sigh. He slowly pulled his head back from her grasp, but did not turn his eyes away this time as Alia went on. "Perhaps you were, for a time. You did things that many would consider unforgivable. Terrible things. And yet, you have paid your price for those crimes."

Valyrym winced, his voice as flat as the spines pinned back against his head. "I killed a child, Alia."

"I know that, Valyrym," Alia snapped with more vehemence than either she or the dragon had expected. The dragon cringed and whimpered, lowering his head. Alia softened her tone. "But you're not a monster."

"Thank you, Alia," the dragon murmured closing his eyes. "But I am not so sure I agree with you. And I hope you will forgive me for being unable to understand why you would stay with me even now. Why you would stay with someone who..." The dragon swallowed hard, trying to force the words over his lips. In the end, he couldn't bring himself to say it again. "...He was so young, Alia."

Alia sighed to herself, pressing a hand to her face. It was all so fresh for the dragon. Having told her his tale, he felt that guilt rising in his belly like rotten bile poisoning him from the inside out. That had not been Alia's intention. Valyrym may say he believed himself a monster but it was not a belief Alia shared. After all, Valyrym had a son of his own. Alia knew the old dragon would never in his life mean to bring harm to any child. But how to try and get him to believe as much about himself? Perhaps to drag that buried belief out of him from some long forgotten corner of his heart.

Alia stroked the dragon's neck a little. He kept his eyes closed, clenching up one of his fore paws into a fist as he tried to keep his rising anger in check. Alia wasn't sure where that anger was directed though she could hazard a guess. He'd spent so long hating himself and calling himself a monster in his own mind he'd come to believe it. Thinking the worst of himself was practically a habit for the old beast. Alia pitied her friend. She wondered if he'd even allow himself to admit he wasn't a monster. If she could only get him to speak it aloud and truly mean it, the words might sink into his heart.

It seemed a daunting task. Alia leaned forward and teased her fingers against one of the dragon's spiny crests. The frill twitched and flared, and Valyrym snorted at her, tossing his head. It seemed as though the membrane of the dragon's frills was rather ticklish. She idly wondered if Amaleen had ever tickled the dragon's spiny frills.

Speaking of Amaleen, it was a shame the woman couldn't be here to help. If half of what Valyrym said about her was true she always had a way to talk the dragon into admitting things he otherwise might not. Come to think of it, so had Enric when he'd suggested that Valyrym had somehow been responsible for his own injuries in order to get him to truthfully implicate the noble. The suggestion had infuriated Valyrym and fury had lead him into truthfulness.

It was possible rousing the dragon to anger might make him spit out the truth once more and yet Alia hated the idea. She did not wish to make Valyrym angry but perhaps she had no choice. One way or another she had to make him see he was not the monster he'd come to believe he was. The dragon needed release from his own guilt, and one way or another, Alia had to help him alleviate his pain.

"You want to know why I stay, Valyrym?" Alia said softly, steeling herself for the painful things she was going to have to say to get the reaction she needed from the dragon.

"I admit to being morbidly curious," the dragon murmured, not lifting his head.

"Tell me, Valyrym," Alia said, her voice beginning to rise. "When you killed that child..." She hesitated, and then forced the words over her lips like hot embers she was desperate to spit out. "Did you drag him from that carriage just to watch him burn?"

"What?" Valyrym lifted his wedge shaped head, swinging it around to stare at Alia with pained eyes.

Alia cringed inwardly while outwardly, she grew angrier. "I asked you if you dragged that child out of the carriage. Did you toss him into the sky and watch him plummet? Did you laugh at his screams?"

"Alia!" The dragon snarled, his spines flaring up all around his neck. "I would never..."

Alia cut him off, her voice honed like a well sharpened knife she drove into the dragon's heart. She jabbed a finger at him accusingly. "Did you tear that boy apart in front of that king? If you knew the child was in that carriage, would you still have burned it just to make his father watch?"

"No!" Valyrym uncurled from Alia, pushing himself to his feet and baring his fangs. Anger and agony both flared in his eyes like dueling stars. "Never!"

"And why not?" Alia shot to her feet, grabbing at the dragon's chin. "Is that not what you wanted? Blood for Blood, right?"

"Not like that!" Valyrym hissed, jerking his head away from Alia's hand. "Not a child!"

"And what if it was Valar you lost? What if the king had Valar slain instead of Amaleen?" Alia advanced on the dragon who suddenly found himself backpedaling as though he expected her to strike him. "Would you have murdered that little boy then, right in front of his father? Blood for Blood, Valyrym!"

"NO!" The dragon practically roared his reply as he stopped backing away. "I would not murder a child!" And yet he had. But never in his life had he wished such a thing.

"Why not?" Alia screamed right back at him, her face flushing scarlet, anger flashing in her green eyes.

"Because I am not some murderous beast!" Valyrym snarled at her with fury enough to drive Alia back. He tossed his horned head, baring his fangs to the vents in the stone. "I do not murder the innocent!" The dragon threw his wings out to his sides, flaring them to their full extent. "I do not burn children for sport!" Valyrym twisted on his paws, wanting to lash out at something. He smashed a forepaw into a wooden bucket with his claws extended, and the whole thing blew apart into splinters.

Alia took another step back, starting to worry for what she'd unleashed. "Valyrym, I..."

"No!" The dragon shouted at her, still fuming over her question. "I would not! I would never!" He lashed his tail against the wall, his spines scraping stone. "I am not evil, Alia!" Valyrym snatched up one of the many old crates laying around his sleeping chamber, and with a roar that forced Alia to clap her hands over her ears, he hurled it at the far wall. It exploded with a shattering crack. Broken wood and old books flew everywhere. "I am not!"

Now Alia was starting to fear this was going to backfire. It would all be for naught if Valyrym injured himself, or damaged something precious to him in a fit of rage. What good would helping him alleviate his guilt do if she only made matters worse in the long run? She had to try and soothe him before he went too far. Perhaps she should not have gotten too close to him at the moment, yet Alia no longer felt fear from Valyrym. She was only worried about what he may do to himself or his precious few treasures.

"Valyrym," Alia said, reaching towards him.

The dragon swiftly backed away from Alia, his golden eyes roiling with pain and anger. How could Alia say such hurtful things about him? Surely she knew better. When she reached for his snout, he pulled away from her, afraid he might harm her if he wasn't careful. No part of him ever wanted to hurt Alia, yet sometimes dragons simply lashed out. Valyrym couldn't believe Alia, of all people, would accuse him of such horrible things. How could she?

His pain and anger boiled over, and the dragon whirled around, seeking something, anything to destroy that wasn't Alia. His words were a furious roar, and they were heartfelt and true, just as Alia had hoped.

"I am not a monster!"

As the dragon roared the truth Alia had so painfully dragged from his heart, he directed his rage towards the nearest inanimate object. It happened to be the bucket Alia set up to catch the rain that was leaking into his chamber. By now it had a good bit of water into it, and as the dragon's paw impacted it the bucket shattered into a shower of fragments and an eruption of cold water that sprayed all across the dragon's face. The sudden cold wetness that soaked him startled the dragon and sent him stumbling back. The sudden shower also served to drain the worst of his anger from him just as swiftly as it had initially awoken. Valyrym gave a long, low sigh, pinning his ears back. For a moment he simply hung his head as though defeated, frills and ears drooping.

Alia took that moment to rush around him and snatch his wet head in her grasp, hugging him fiercely to her breast. Alia was crying, it hurt her as much as it hurt the dragon to do that to him. "And that is why even now I stay with you, Valyrym," Alia said gently, her heart welling with sympathy and pain. "I am ever so sorry to put you through that," she murmured, her arms around his head. "But you had to say it, Valyrym. It hurt me deeply to do that to you. Yet it hurt me worse to hear you call yourself a monster and know you believed it. I knew there was something left in you, Valyrym, that believed otherwise. I had to get you to say it."

Valyrym sniffled a little, pressing his nose to Alia's chest. He should have known it was a ruse, and yet, he hadn't expected to ever say the things he'd just spat out. Alia had exposed some darkened, nearly lost part of himself he'd tried to bury along with all his pain. It made his punishment easier to bear if he believed himself to deserve it. But Alia knew better. "How did you know..."

"Because I know your heart," Alia said simply, pressing her lips to the dragon's scaled muzzle. "I know you well enough now to know your life is not defined only by your darkest hour or your greatest mistake. Your life is defined by every part of you."

Alia lifted her head, gently stroking Valyrym's cheek. There was no sign of false anger in her eyes now, only pained sorrow for what she had to put the dragon through. She had not wanted to hurt Valyrym. But she had to know that somewhere in his heart, he believed he was still more than a monster. More so, she had to make him admit it to himself. She whispered a few more nearly silent apologies to the dragon, and soon he was nuzzling at her. A few more tears dribbled down Valyrym's scales.

"You are not your worst moment, Val," Alia said, doing all she could to reassure him as she stroked his nose. "You are your love for your son and your love for Amaleen. You are the poems you write and the freedom you fought for. You are the dying men you carried to the sky, and the names you carved in stone. Your life is not one terrible moment, Val, your life is a tapestry woven by everything you've ever done, and the good in you has far outweighed the evil."

Alia's voice began to shake, and Valyrym's breath caught in his throat. His heart pounded in his chest, and his mouth grew dry. In yet another way, Alia was so much like Amaleen. She was capable of drawing emotions from him he had worked so hard to bury. Valyrym began to turn his golden gaze away, but Alia didn't let him. Instead Alia hugged his head against her chest once more. She hugged him tightly enough he could hear her own smaller heart hammering away.

"I have stayed, Valyrym, because I have come to care for you." Alia stroked his neck with a free hand. "I have stayed because I refuse to judge you based on one terrible act. Because I refuse to see only the monster you became. Yes, Valyrym, you were a monster, and you did a monster's deeds. But I will stay by your side because I see so much more than that, Valyrym. I see the sorrow burning in your eyes when you talk about your crimes. I see the regret every time you look at Val Junior. When you carried him in your jaws last night I saw love and pain like I have never witnessed in another."

Alia pulled back just a little so she could look down at the dragon's face as she held his muzzle to her breast. "I stay, Valyrym, because now I too have seen you at your all. And it is beautiful."

Valyrym slowly began to cry. Tears ran down his black scaled cheeks, and dripped to the floor. Others found their way to dampen Alia's blue blouse. He slowly pulled his head back from her and reached out with a paw to delicately cup her cheek as best he could. She leaned her head into his encompassing paw, staring back at him with equally tearful eyes.

"Why are you here, Alia?" Valyrym asked, speaking as much to any Gods who might be listening as to Alia herself. "After all these solitary years, why have you come here?"

Alia knew the dragon meant it as a rhetorical question. Yet to her surprise, Alia had an answer. Something the dragon said earlier stuck with her. "Symmetry, Valyrym."

"What?" The dragon curled his neck into an S, his golden eyes widened.

Alia lifted her hands to gently clutch Valyrym's paw as he pulled it from her face. "Symmetry, Valyrym. Like the old hermit said. You have suffered here for decades, Valyrym, and perhaps rightfully so. And yet..." She trailed off a moment, and then gently squeezed the dragon's paw reassuringly. "Yet here I am, staying at your side as you recount your darkest times. I know how afraid you were, Valyrym. Afraid to lose me. Afraid to lose the only friend you've had in years so numerous I would be afraid to count them." Alia let a smile slowly ease some of the pain on her face. "I am here, Valyrym, because of the wind."

"The wind?" The dragon lifted his ears a little, confused.

"The wind that carries, Valyrym," Alia said. That expression had stuck with her the moment Valyrym first used it. "I am here because the wind that carries us has carried me to you, to tell you that you have suffered enough. That you have paid your penance, and that it is time for you to let it go. Everyone you hurt is gone, Valyrym, and the pain you caused is a memory that has long since faded from existence."

Alia gestured towards the rain falling through the skylights carved in the stone above. "No one out there knows why you're here." Then she waved to the ceiling above them, indicating the castle far beyond. "No one up there knows, either. The royals don't know, Valyrym. The documents don't say. There is no one left who was hurt by your actions, Valyrym, and that means there is no one left to forgive you. There is a saying that the only thing the dead can offer is forgiveness. And that, Valyrym, as much as anything, is absolution."

Alia pressed her hand to his chest, over his powerful heart. She gently stroked the hardened plates there. "You are the only one left who still holds this inside. You view yourself as a monster, Valyrym, but I do not. I would offer you my forgiveness if I could, but such is not my place. Such is not why the wind has carried me to you." Alia moved forward, and whether the dragon liked it or not she put her arms around his neck, and kissed his throat a few times. "I am here because I feel your life is still worth living. I am here because you need someone to help you learn to forgive yourself. You have to let your pain go, Valyrym, You are the only one left to offer yourself forgiveness."

Valyrym's tail coiled on the floor, the spines dragging an animal hide a few feet. When he replied, the dragon's voice was soft, almost distant. "I think you know me well enough by now to know I cannot let things go."

"Not easily, anyway," Alia said, but she did not want to argue with the dragon. "But that is why I am here, Valyrym."

The dragon merely sighed, and turned his head away again.

"I won't press you, Valyrym, but I won't let you withdraw again, either." She moved and placed her hand upon his neck. "You have come to care for me, have you not?"

Valyrym slowly turned his head to peer back at Alia. His golden eyes shone with pain, fear, and hope all rolled into one tearful whole. "More than I care to admit."

"As have I for you, Valyrym." Alia stroked his neck gently. "I will be here for you whenever you need me. And perhaps more than that. You may grow weary of my presence before long."

Alia meant it as a joke, but Valyrym did not laugh. "I could never grow weary of you, Alia," he said, his voice nearly breaking. "I would have you here every moment of every day, if I could. I cannot put words to the way you have made my life better. My existence was little more than the very dark, dismal hole in which I live. I knew in my own way that I deserved it. And then you arrived, and by the time you were stitching me up just like Amaleen stitched up my son I knew you were making my life better by the day." The dragon sniffed hard a few times, trying to hold in his tears. "You are right, Alia, I was so afraid when you asked me to open my very soul to you. It was...so much easier for me to try and forget what I had done, I could almost convince myself I wasn't half the monster I am. But in my heart, in my empty, ruined heart I knew what I had done. And when you asked me to tell you, I was terrified. If...If I lost you because...because of..."

"I know, Valyrym," Alia said gently, moving to take his head in her arms again. She stroked his muzzle a few times. "You don't have to say it."

Valyrym went on, anyway. "And then...then you told me you...you would..."

"I would bear your burden," Alia whispered. She remembered it as clearly as the dragon. When she first spoke them she had no idea what those very words had come to mean to the old dragon. "And I will." Alia pulled Val's head up so that she could look straight into his eyes. A maelstrom of emotions whirled behind them. They churned like golden vortexes. Waves of pain washed across his eyes and collided with the ever-increasing tide of hope. "I will bear your burdens, Valyrym, each and every one of them. I will hold you when you cry, I will soothe you when you rage, and when you feel cold and alone, I will be your warmth and your companion."

The dragon stammered a little. His wings shook as he quietly cried against Alia's blouse. She stroked his neck, rubbed one of his ears a little. Between soft sobs, he glanced up at her. "You are a beautiful spirit, Alia."

Alia smiled at him, sniffling a little herself. "It seems you have a habit of attracting those."

Valyrym laughed just a little through his crying. "Every century or so."

Alia laughed with him, holding him. Now and then she used the sleeves of her blouse to dab at his eyes, and dry the pebbly scales of his muzzle. While the dragon let his emotions out, she wondered how close to accurate his little joke really was. Aran'alia had officially been annexed by Illandra around fifty years ago, she thought. But that was something that would only have happened once they'd completely pacified the land and its inhabitants. Who knows how long Aran'alia fought on after Val was captured, let alone how long it took to make everything official. Alia peered down at the gray scales that marked the tip of his nose, and edged his ears. The same ashen tones ran along the edges of his wings, and the end of his spiked tail. Once, that gray had been blue. How long ago had that been? How old was Valyrym?

For now, it scarcely mattered. When the dragon's tears had stopped, she gently eased his head up with her hands, and kissed his scarred nose again. "I hope you feel a little better, Valyrym. For whatever it may be worth to you, I promise you I will never leave your side so long as you want me here. I...I truly believe that you have suffered more than enough." Alia sighed, gesturing towards the larger chamber with all the carved pillars. "You no longer deserve to be locked down here."

Valyrym turned his head to lick at Alia's hand a little. "I would drive you away from this place if I could, Alia."

Alia was taken aback for a moment. "What?" For a second, her own heart pounded. Had she done something wrong? Or did Val simply wish to wallow in his own self pity? Before she could think too hard on it, Valyrym explained.

"If they know how I have come to care for you, Alia, they will use you to hurt me." His voice trembled a little, and ghosts flickered behind his haunted, golden eyes. "I told you before, bad things happen to the best parts of my life. Alia, I can say without any uncertainty that you are now the best part of my life." He licked his nose, wrapping his wings tightly around himself as though he felt a sudden chill. "And I suddenly find that quite frightening."

"Oh," Alia said. She was unsure how to respond to that, especially considering the beating she'd delivered to that noble before. At the time she'd been acting on furious protective instincts over the creature she now considered to be "her" dragon. She did not regret punishing that cruel man, but she had to admit a trickle of cold fear suddenly running down her spine. She shivered.

"I can take any punishment they can dish out," Alia said without thinking. She meant it to comfort Valyrym, but too late she realized it might not have that effect.

"Have they a reason to punish you?" Valyrym said, his voice concerned. He pulled his head back, giving her a slightly suspicious look.

"They're always looking for reasons to punish the Aran'alians," Alia said, hoping that was that. No need to give the dragon anything more to worry about.

"If they harm you..." Valyrym's voice trailed off and Alia put a hand against his snout to keep him from finishing that thought.

"I know, Valyrym," she said gently. Then she forced herself to smile. Dwelling on unpleasant things wasn't going to help the dragon any. "Now. You've told me your story, you've bared your beautiful soul, and now I think you need to relax for awhile. I also imagine you're quite hungry."

The dragon licked his muzzle as his belly rumbled. A little smile crept across his black and gray muzzle. "I wasn't, until you just said that."

"Then how about I see to getting you some lunch, hmm?"

The dragon rustled his wings a little bit. "I would not say no."

"Good!" Alia's smile grew wider. "I'll see if I can find you something tasty to eat." Then she shook her finger at him. "But not cake. You need to eat something more healthy than that."

"Perhaps cake for dinner, then." The dragon growled playfully. "And more rum."

"Cake and rum are not a meal, Valyrym," Alia said, giggling.

Valyrym snorted at her, and gave a heavy sounding sigh. "My lovers never let me have cake and rum for dinner."

"So now I'm your lover?" Alia giggled again, her eyes shining.

Valyrym snorted, glancing away. "Don't make it awkward, Alia."

"Oh, so now it's awkward?" She smirked, and then gently scratched him under his chin, along his jaw line. "Besides, cake and rum is all you had for dinner last night."

"Yes, and look what that got me to babble on about." The dragon leaned into her hand. Slowly, he began to purr. The sound of stones tumbling about in a barrel grew louder and louder as he saw no reason to withhold such noise from Alia any longer. "I should hope you haven't gotten the wrong idea in your head about me. I hope you do not think me soft."

Alia could practically see Valyrym building the golden walls inside his eyes again. That was fine. She did not expect the old dragon to leave his heart bared to her at all times, after all. Let him build his walls again. Besides, Alia now knew those walls she always saw in his eyes came complete with a gate. A gate which Alia now held the key to.

"Don't worry, Val. I won't tell Thomas and Kaylen what an old softie you really are."

The dragon grunted, scrunching up his muzzle in a pained grimace. "I'd forgotten they saw my little display last night."

Alia rubbed his nose. "All they saw was an old creature growing sorrowful over his lost home. If you'd rather I tell them you simply got something in your eye..." Alia giggled. "Or even both your eyes, I'll do so."

"Tell them what you like," Valyrym muttered, doing his best to act grumpy. "Just don't tell them I cried like a hatchling or I shall bite you in places the marks won't show."

"I would never tell them that, Valyrym," Alia said gently. "But, I think they'll be concerned about you. Would it be alright if they come and see you again sometime?"

Valyrym canted his head, staring at her through one eye. "If they really wish to see me again, I suppose I should not be completely against the idea. So long as they don't act like idiots."

"Well, I won't make promises they can't keep, Val," Alia said, giggling. "Oh, and if you bite me in places like that, don't expect to get to see those places again afterwards."

"Well, that would be a shame," the dragon said with a little smile. "Perhaps I can get Kaylen to show me her places then, instead. She did grab my sheath, after all."

Alia burst out laughing. "Oh, Gods Val, I'd forgotten about that." Alia gazed around Val's sleeping chamber, then crouched down to pick up her boots. She'd taken them off sometime during Val's tale. Holding them in one hand, she began to walk towards the exit back into the main chamber. "Come along then. I'll draw you a nice hot bath to relax in while I see about your food."

"Will you take it with me?" The dragon asked, a hint of a smirk evident in his voice as well as upon his muzzle.

"Not this time," Alia said with a giggle. "Perhaps later."

"Just as well," Valyrym said. "I cannot honestly say I am in the mood, anyway. But I had to ask."

"Of course you did."

Valyrym shook himself, flared and stretched his gray-edged wings, and then began to pad along after Alia. "Perhaps if my mood improves, you can send your sheath-grabbing friend and we'll see what else she likes to grab."

"You're pressing your luck, Val," Alia replied. She waited for the dragon to join her in the main chamber, and then gently put her hand upon his shoulder to walk alongside him.

"No," Valyrym said, grinning. He limped a little as he walked. His hind leg throbbed quite a bit as if angry to have been reminded of just how he'd gained such a large scar. "Pressing my luck would be asking the two of you to bathe me together. Been ages since I've had two girls at once."

"And it's likely to be ages more since you have it again."

"So you're saying there's a chance?"

Alia patted his shoulder. "Perhaps with enough rum. Or a good enough mood." Before Valyrym could reply to that, she glanced back at his hind leg. "How's your leg? Sore?"

Valyrym paused to stretch the scarred limb out behind himself. He grimaced a little. The puckered gray flesh of the old scar stretched taut. Valyrym winced and hissed in pain as his hind toes splayed out when the deeply scarred muscles cramped a moment. His hind claws stuck out for a few moments till he'd stretched enough for the worst of the cramp to pass.

"It is angry with me."

"Go get in the tub," Alia said, stroking his neck. "The hot water will help. I'll get the stoves started."

"First, I must return the last of that rum to the water table," Valyrym said, giving Alia a little smirk.

Alia laughed, and as Valyrym turned away from her she playfully swatted him on the haunch. He yelped and glared back at her for a moment, but found himself smiling when she stuck her tongue out at him. Then as the dragon went to empty his bladder, Alia headed to the stoves. She passed alongside several of the towering, fluted gray marble columns that spanned the dragon's cell in neat rows. Far above her, those columns spanned out into elegant arches that gave the ceiling a graceful ebb and flow that stretched on into darkness. By now Alia needed no torch to navigate the place during the day, though thanks to the rain it was darker than usual. Instead of shafts of sunlight shining down through the air vents, there was only a cold light that permeated the area beneath the far wall.

Alia paused by the pillar that Val had carved into a waterfall. Despite having more trouble than usual making out the details through the gloomy light, the waterfall was clearly just as Valyrym had described it. Each line had purpose, and she could almost see the water pouring down the stone and across the floor. She half expected to see Amaleen sitting alongside it, or dancing in the spray. The thought made Alia smile.

Alia was still looking at the carving when Valyrym rejoined her. "One of my better works," the dragon said, tilting his horned head back to peer up at it.

"How long did this take?" Alia asked, running her fingers down a few of the old carved lines. A bit of dust coated them, and she wiped her fingers off on her breeches.

"I've no idea," the dragon admitted. "Months, at least. Perhaps years." Valyrym licked his nose as he thought about it, flattening his spines back in distaste. "Definitely years."

"Every line..." Alia breathed, trying to imagine the patience.

"...Is perfect," the dragon said, finishing her thought. He did not mean to brag, though he was quite proud. "I spent days on that just thinking about where to place a single line. How to make the spray look right." Valyrym ran a paw back and forth over a few lines cut into the floor. "How to make it look as though it were really flowing."

"It's beautiful, Val. Truly beautiful."

"Thank you," the dragon said, genuinely glad she thought so. "It kept me sane, anyway."

Valyrym laughed to himself, but Alia was starting to realize he wasn't joking. "You mean that, don't you."

Valyrym sighed a little, and turned away, playfully bumping Alia with his tail. "It helped me calm myself. Helped me focus my thoughts. Mind you, it took me many years before I could carve that well. Over the years I have carved over my earlier attempts because they came out so poorly. But the days when I was the angriest...whether I was furious with Illandra, or myself, or whenever I simply wanted to tear down this whole damn city or bash myself to pieces against these walls, carving kept me sane. I could not do it when I was angry, and so I used it to balance myself mentally. Expend my anger in a violent tantrum, then settle down in front of a pillar and try to carve something beautiful. Time and again I returned to memories. I knew well enough I had squandered my life, and given up my son to pursue revenge. That did not mean I wanted to forget all the beautiful things I'd seen in many years."

As Valyrym began to walk towards the tub, he flicked his tail towards the pillar. "That is the waterfall at the Bones of The Earth, obviously." Then he flared a wing, pointing it towards the exit to the stairwell. "I've seen you and Enric looking at that pillar nearest the stairs. That is Sigil Stones, back when I first made a deal with the place. When it was still a humble little village. The pillar on the other side of it is Sigil Stones after it had grown quite a bit."

"I'd love to see them all," Alia said, stroking the dragon's tail as she walked up behind him. "I mean I've had looks but, I'd like to see them through your eyes."

"I suppose I did once promise you a tour," the dragon chuckled. "And I'm sure you've seen my life in stone."

"Is that what you call it?" Alia patted the dragon's shoulder as they neared the tub, and then moved away from him to head to the stoves.

"Actually," the dragon said, looking back the way he'd come. Though it was mostly shrouded in darkness for the time being, the far wall of the place was inscribed along much of its length with images from the dragon's life. Memories of all he'd seen and done in his long life forever carved into stone. "I call it my timeline."

"That's a good name for it," Alia said as she gathered up some wood and kindling. "And yes, I've certainly seen it. But I've never really looked at it closely. It seemed far too personal."

"Thank you for that," Valyrym said, watching Alia fill stoves with wood. "But it's alright if you wish to see it now."

"I'd like that," Alia said, smiling. "Maybe you can talk me through that as well."

The dragon only grunted. Alia kept smiling as she loaded the stove. Thanks to Alia and the hard work of a small army of workers, the dragon's cell had a large bathtub complete with hot water. A system of simple pipes carried some of the water that flowed into the dragon's home across the flat, custom-built tops of three fat looking cast-iron stoves. The water flowed slowly enough to give the stoves time to heat it before it eventually poured into the dragon's tub. Another stove nearby worked as a feeder by burning wood and providing hot coals to fuel the other stoves.

Valyrym padded over to the tub itself. He paused and lowered his head to sniff at the wooden walls. Iron banding, bolts and metal fasteners on the outside held the wooden walls of the tub together like an oversized barrel surrounding an oval shaped depression cut in the stone floor. "I've still no idea how your people managed to make this thing so sturdy." He stepped over the wall of the tub one paw at a time, glancing over at Alia. "One day, I'm going to slip on some soap you've left behind, and I'm going to crack my own eggs on this tub wall."

"And I'm going to laugh, and laugh," Alia called back to him as she got a fire started in the belly of the first stove.

"I would be worried about you if you did not," the dragon admitted. The depression in the stone naturally held a bit of water from the stream that flowed through the corner of his prison. At the moment there was more water flowing over the various moss-covered rocky ledges than usual thanks to the rainstorm. It was colder than usual as well. Valyrym shivered as he sat down in it, his scales all clicking together. "Do you think the stoves will be able to heat all that water?"

As Alia got a fire going in the second stove, she looked up at the water that cascaded over the granite ledges. In the dim light, the moss that covered them looked almost as gray as the layers of shelf fungus that clung to the underside of the outcroppings. "I'm not sure. I'm starting some fires directly in the three heating stoves this time, rather than just using coals from the feeder stove."

"Will that work?" The dragon sounded a little dubious.

"Probably. Only some of the water goes through the pipes anyway, but the rain has made it extra cold. So using direct fire instead of coals will either heat the water to the usual temperature, or it's going to scald you severely." Alia grinned mischievously. "Come to think of it, you might not want to be in the tub till we find out."

Valyrym just glared at her. He bared his fangs and hissed till she turned away, laughing. For a moment, he watched her work to put spark to flame, her black tresses swaying in front of her face. Unlike Amaleen's, Alia's hair was completely straight. Val soon turned his attention to the cold water he sat in. Even if the water came in hotter than usual, the water already present would cool it enough to keep it from hurting him.

Valyrym idly splashed his paws in the cool water that was standing in his tub like a bored hatchling. An image of Valar flashed through the dragon's mind. The little blue and black hatchling was jumping in puddles, chanting in a sing song voice to himself. Splishy splashy, splashy splishy!

"Splishy, Splashy!" Valyrym murmured his son's words to himself without even realizing it. "Splashy, Splishy, splishy splashy, playin' in the rain..."

"Are you having fun there?" Alia giggled as she overheard the dragon and saw him slapping his paws at the water.

Caught in a personal moment, Valyrym only glared at her. "Just heat the water."

"Yes, Sir Dragon," Alia said, giggling. "Shall I also wax your scales and polish your horns?"

"Keep it up, Wench, and I'll give you something else to polish."

Alia put her hands on her hips. "Since when am I a wench?"

"Since I became Sir Dragon." The dragon waved his paw dismissively at her. "Thank you, that is all."

Alia just laughed to herself. After Alia got the fires in the stoves going, she went around to all the sluice gates built into the piping to start redirecting the water. Soon water was flowing across the hot area atop the stoves and down into the dragon's tub. As Alia adjusted the flow until she got it where she wanted it, she kept an eye on the dragon. When he didn't think she was looking, he went back to splashing in the water with his paws, and murmuring to himself under his breath.

Alia didn't need to be able to read the dragon's mind to get her own image of little Valar dancing in puddles while it rained. Alia bit her lip a moment. She could not help but wonder if getting the dragon to tell her so much of his life had made all those memories come rushing back. Obviously he'd never forgotten his son, but she hoped the old dragon's mind could handle the extra strain.

Alia walked to the tub, and put her arms against the wooden walls, leaning towards him. Val barely even noticed her. For a short while, the old dragon just seemed lost in his own little world. In his mind, he still saw Valar playing in the puddles. In his mind, Valar was happy because his father was playing right alongside him.

"Splishy, Splashy," Valyrym murmured to himself again. He finally caught Alia watching him, and cleared his throat with a growl. "Oh, get mounted Alia."

"He loved playing in the rain, huh?"

Valyrym nodded, and a wistful smile spread over his muzzle. "He always did. Couldn't keep him out of the mud and the puddles even if we tried. You should have seen all the mud he tracked into Amaleen's home one day while I was away, at war. By the time I came back, she was still trying to clean up her carpets and bedspreads!"

Valyrym laughed to himself, memories shimmering behind his eyes. As the hot water began to rise, he slowly eased himself down in it, sighing a little. Valyrym suddenly felt quite old. His scars ached, his ruined fire glands throbbed. His bones and joints were stiff, and all he wanted to do was sleep. He rested his head on the edge of the tub, relaxing a little as the hot waters rose higher.

"Thank you, Alia," Valyrym said, closing his eyes. "Thank you for everything."

Alia walked around to stroke his nose for a few long moments. "You are more welcome than I can say, Valyrym." She tensed, and her voice tightened. An idea had been creeping up in her mind for a little while now, but seeing the dragon playing in the tub, wishing he was still with his son had solidified it. "You don't deserve to be here anymore, Valyrym."

Valyrym just chuckled, purring to himself with his eyes closed. His tail swished beneath the rising water, sending little waves crashing up against the tub walls. "That is kind of you to say, Alia. I am not so sure I agree, but...at least I have found a friend."

Coming from Valyrym, Alia could not imagine a more touching thing to say. "Yes, my Lovely Dragon. You have." He had found more than that. "I need to go and get you some food, now. You know how to close off the gates when the tub is full. I've got a few other things to take care of for the day, and I'll be back soon with your lunch, alright?"

The dragon simply murmured, nodding lightly. Alia leaned down and kissed his muzzle. He licked her cheek, and then Alia turned to make her way off towards the exit. Once she had turned away from him, Valyrym slowly opened his eyes again. He lifted his head to watch Alia walk off into the darkness with his heart slamming against his sternum, his blood pounding in his veins. Alia knew the truth now, and she had not left him. Valyrym realized something then, as he watched Alia vanish into the gloom.

Alia would never judge him.

When Alia had disappeared completely into the darkness, Valyrym lay his head back down against the tub and closed his eyes again. For a while, Valyrym had tried to deny it. But he could not so do any longer. When it became clear that Alia would stay by his side no matter what, the truth was as bright as the sun itself. Valyrym could fight it all he wanted. Tell himself it was not true. But in the end the light of truth shone even into the depths of his dungeon.

And the truth was that for the first time since he'd lost Amaleen, love was blossoming in Valyrym's heart.

---

Chapter Two

Alia stared out the window as she lay relaxing in the hot water that filled her tub. She promised to bring the dragon his lunch as soon as she could but in truth she needed a little time to collect herself. Valyrym's tale had left her shaken to the core, and though she'd held herself together in front of him she did not wish to return until she'd had a chance for her mind to settle. She felt as though she'd lived a whole lifetime over the last night and a half. Valyrym's words came across so vividly, his story so touchingly told it was no surprise to her that Amaleen once told him there was poetry in his heart.

While the dragon was speaking Alia had done her best to stay strong for him. True enough when the dragon began to cry Alia had done the same. Even now when she thought of the way he'd learned of Amaleen's death the thought brought tears to her eyes. But Alia knew that in Valyrym's rare time of weakness and vulnerability, he needed someone to be strong for him. So when Valyrym faltered, Alia was steadfast. But Alia's strength was not an endlessly bubbling spring. She had nearly used the last of it when she roused Valyrym to anger in order to get him to admit to himself that he was not a monster.

As soon as she had the dragon relaxing in a hot bath, she knew she needed to do the same. Before she brought the dragon his food she had to have a little time to herself. Alia suspected that Val was probably glad to get some time alone as well. The depth of his recollection and the conviction of his words had come as quite a surprise. For such an old creature, his memory was sharper than Alia thought hers was even now. It was easy to see how things could still seem so fresh years later to a creature with a mind and memory so sharply honed.

Alia took a deep breath, and leaned back against the wall of the tub, closing her eyes. She'd come to greatly enjoy having a private tub in the time since her promotion to Dragon's Warden. Even the tub itself was practically a work of art. A lovely oval shaped thing of finely hammered copper upon three legs, each of which was sculpted to resemble an open dragon paw pressed flat against the ground. A set of copper pipes once ferried in hot water from the chamber next door. There was a bell to ring, and summon a servant to set about heating the water and pouring it through the pipes, but Alia was not about to make some poor servant attend her every need. After all, that was exactly the sort of job she used to be stuck doing.

One of the first things she had done for herself upon taking on her new job was to install a water heater in her private bathing chamber that she could operate herself. Now it stood upon three raised legs in the corner of the room. It resembled a large brass kettle with a slightly rounded tank Alia often kept filled with buckets of rainwater she collected upon her balcony. A basin beneath the bottom of the raised tank could be filled with hot coals which in turn heated the water. A pipe that looked just like the spout of a tea kettle rose upwards from the bottom of the tank, and when pulled into a lowered position, allowed the hot water to floor directly into the tub. Lock the spout back into the upright position and the flow of water was cut off once more. The drain in the bottom of the tub was positioned above another drain cut into the stone floor. Remove the stopper from the tub, and the water poured directly into the drainage grate, where it flowed down a small channel and as far as Alia knew, eventually dumped outside the castle somewhere.

Hopefully not straight into some poor servant's meager garden.

A variety of flower and fruit scented soaps and perfumes complimented the bath well. Valyrym might not like having the aromas of fresh wildflowers and various fruits emanating from his water when he bathed, but Alia certainly relished it. Especially on a day like today, when she truly needed to relax. Today she had chosen the scents very carefully. She'd almost selected soaps that smelled like sweet roses. But then Alia saw another soap she had not used in some time, and decided it seemed far more appropriate.

Today, Alia's bath smelled like apples.

Alia opened her eyes, and turned her head. From her spot in the tub, she had a very clear view out the leaded glass doors to the small balcony that extended in a semicircle beyond the stone wall of the castle. There were soft, beige toned curtains on either side of the balcony to provide privacy for the bathing chamber. Yet Alia had never once undone the knotted, cream colored ropes that held them open. The balcony itself was quite high, and she probably could have strutted about it nude without anyone spotting her, let alone while she remained inside. Besides, she preferred the light of the sun and moon to that of candles and lanterns any day.

It was still raining outside. Alia found it a dismal sight. Which was a strange realization for her, because Alia loved the rain. As a young girl, long before she knew of her people's plight inside Illandra, her favorite days were always rainy days. Without hesitation she'd run outside at the first sign of rain. She could have been in her prettiest, most expensive dress and there was still little her poor mother could do to stop her from jumping in the nearest puddle and giggling like the giddy little girl she'd been. Even in the darkest days of her life, when her back was laid open for standing up to the wrong man, or she was pressed into the bed of some liquor-stinking noble just for a few extra coins, the rain always made her happy. She danced in it every chance she had.

Now, the rain only seemed dreary. At first she wasn't sure why. It seemed the same as any other rainy day. And she'd never found rain anything but a joy before. Yet now, as she watched the droplets of rain splatter her window, listened to the pattering noise it made against the panes of glass, she struggled to figure out why it suddenly made her feel sad. Perhaps she was just feeling a little down from the dreadful conclusion to the Dread Sky's story. Maybe it had been seeing Valyrym emulate his own son playing in the rain, knowing he himself would never again have that pleasure.

The Dread Sky would never see the silver rain again.

And then it hit her.

Alia was sad because the rain in Illandra would never be silver.

Alia had always loved the rain, but she had only known it in Illandra. She had only known the rain as most of the world thought of it. Never had she had the pleasure to see it as her mother had seen it. As Valyrym had seen it. As all the Aran'alians in the world once saw it, before they were driven from their homes and saw their lands conquered.

Alia loved the rain, but never had it seemed so boring. So bland. So ordinary. Everything about this town was ordinary, and bland. What did they have but buildings of stone and clear rain and cold hearts and poverty. Alia had never known anything but Illandra. She had never seen her homeland, barely even heard tales told of it growing up. It was almost as if her mother did not want Alia to miss something she'd never get to see. Yet in a single tale, the dragon made her feel as though Aran'alia was her home, too.

And Alia had never missed her home so badly.

Alia could only imagine how Valyrym must feel. To have his love wrenched from his arms. To be so wracked with grief that it nearly drove him mad. To be locked for all his many years down in that wretched dungeon, beneath the castle. To know every day that he would never see his beloved home again. That he would never see his son again. His poor son. Alia sniffled, trying to hold herself together, but images spawned in her mind through Valyrym's words flooded her thoughts in a colorful rush.

Suddenly the rain outside was silver. The scent of apples was not her bath, but the fruit from the tree near the colorfully painted houses near the outskirts of Sigil Stones. Valar was the one splashing in the rain, chanting "Splishy, splashy" alongside his father. Amaleen was carving up freshly picked apples to give to her two favorite dragons when they came in from playing in the beautiful silver rain. Rain that poured along sloped roofs and into barrels where people who still lived free would to go to drink it.

But Aran'alia did not live free, and Amaleen did not live at all.

Valyrym did not free, and Valar would never see his father again.

It all seemed so wretchedly unfair.

And it all hit Alia in a rush. "No!" She screamed, slapping her hands against the surface of the water like a child furious at being made to bathe. "No! No, no, NO! Damn it!" None of this had to happen. None of this ever had to happen. If Illandra had just kept to their own damn lands, then Amaleen would have lived a full life with Valyrym, Valar would grown up with his father, and Alia would have grown up in the homeland who's name she proudly bore.

"Damn you, Illandra!" Alia thrashed about in her bath, furious as a wound animal. She rarely gave into fits of temper and rage, and yet emotions had been building inside her all throughout Valyrym's story. Better to release those pent up feelings now while she was alone, rather than risk having Valyrym accidentally bear their brunt. Soapy water sloshed over the copper walls of the tub and splashed against the gray stone floor in a frothy mess. Alia finally shrieked another curse and slammed the bottom of her fist against the side of the tub.

Alia cried out again, this time in pain as she split open the side of her hand. She grit her teeth, her anger-reddened face scrunched up. "Son of a bitch," she hissed through her teeth, clutching her bloodied hand. Fat droplets of red blood fell into her bath, the crimson stains turning pink as they mixed with soapy foam. She rinsed her hand in the hot bath water, grimacing, then examined the wound. It was only a minor thing that would easily heal, but it hurt like hell. The fact she'd so foolishly injured herself in a fit of petulant anger over things she could not change only further soured her mood.

For a few moments she clutched her hand tightly, trying to get it to stop bleeding. Blood soon coated her hands. The image made her think of the blood on Valyrym's paws. When she rinsed her hands again, she could not help but think of Amaleen washing that same blood from the dragon's scales time and again. Alia slowly lifted her hand, and watched the blood dribble down across her wrist. She imagined her hand a dragon's paw, covered in blood. She imagined herself Valyrym.

There was no one left to wash the stains from my paws...

Alia curled up in the tub and began to cry. It was so wretched unfair to that dragon. It was unfair to his son. It was unfair to Amaleen. And it was unfair to the child who burned alongside his mother. And now, it was all too much for Alia to bear. So she cried. She cried for Valyrym, and she cried for Valar, and for Amaleen, and for the home she'd never known, and for that poor child who burned because of his father's war.

Alia cried and cried in the tub, unable even to wipe her eyes because of the soap clinging to her hands. This was the hardest that she'd ever cried for Valyrym though not the first time. No, Alia had shed tears for Valyrym before. She'd cried them in sympathy and anger when he'd been injured by the nobles whip. And she'd shed tears again for Valyrym after she'd seen that green dragon's head in the pub, and could not help but imagine it as Valyrym's head upon that wall. But it wasn't, it was a green...

Oh, Gods! It couldn't be...could it?

That it might be Korvarak's head adorning Jena's wall only made Alia cry harder.

As she cried out, she could not help wondering what Valyrym had done to deserve this. Not this fate, not this cell, but what he'd done to deserve the horrible things that drove him to seek vengeance. Alia could not find an answer. It seemed to her that most of his life was spent trying to make himself a better creature.

From an icon of simple selfishness he had transformed into someone who risked his own life to protect those no one else was willing to stand up for. His only love was dead because he dared to stand up to her enemies. Because he dared to fight for her freedom. Valyrym put his wonderful transformation all on Amaleen, but Alia saw through that. Valyrym thought with Amaleen's death all that goodness had bled from the dragon, and left him little more than hollow anger and despair. Alia saw through that, as well. Through his story, through the pain that shone in his eyes and the love that shone through his voice when he spoke of his son, Alia saw him at his all.

Alia saw a creature that had devoted so much of his life to fighting for others, yet never had anyone stood up and fought for him.

Valyrym thought himself a monster who abandoned his son. Alia saw a grieving lover and troubled father who found himself abandoned by the very people he tried to protect.

Valyrym thought his heart cold and empty. Alia saw the poetry in it shining through the cracks in the ice.

Alia saw a creature who never in his life had someone stand up and give their all to fight for him.

Until now.

As Alia cried into the apple scented air, she made a decision that would alter her life forever. Valyrym had suffered enough. Alia was going to fight for the dragon.

Alia would free Valyrym if she had to tear this greed-built castle down brick by blood-soaked brick.

---

With her body dry and wrapped in warm clothes and her hand lightly bandaged, Alia made her way to the kitchen. After hearing Val speak at length about Amaleen and her assortment of colorful dresses Alia felt inspired to wear something like that as well. While Alia had purchased quite a few blouses, and pairs of breeches, and even a few skirts, she hadn't yet bought herself another dress. In truth she rarely found a reason to wear them. Nice dresses had hardly been appropriate for servant's work after all. And even after she'd been promoted to Dragon's Warden, a pretty dress hardly exuded the sort of power and respect for the office she wanted. Now, though, now she just found herself wanting to look pretty for the dragon. She hoped he wouldn't get the wrong idea. In no way did she want to make herself over into Amaleen, or cause the old dragon to start stumbling over his own memories. She simply felt he'd enjoy seeing her wearing such a thing.

So Alia had dug deeply into her closet, and pulled out the only fine dress she'd ever bought for herself. She had a few inexpensive sundresses and things, but only one beautiful dress that might be appropriate for formal occasions. It was a present to herself a few years ago, a gift to celebrate getting a job as a castle servant. While the earnings were meager, they were steady. Better yet, it meant a room and a bed she would not have to pay for or share with men for a few extra coins. She'd scrimped and saved for months after that, and finally bought herself the most beautiful dress she could afford.

The dress was a sky blue color that darkened towards indigo and midnight shades towards the very hem of its skirt. It was cut in a simple V around her neck that showed off just a hint of her breasts. The V-cut was outlined in double lines of golden lace. The sleeves flared out around her hands, and the color there also darkened to indigo. More golden thread ringed the end of the flared sleeves, and the ruffled hem of the dress's skirt where it spread out about her feet. She matched the color of the dress with a few sky blue ribbons that she tied around her black hair after pulling it behind her head in a loose ponytail. Given that just reaching Valyrym meant descending an entire army of stairs, Alia decided against the only elegant pair of shoes that she had, and instead went with a comfortable pair of cloth sandals. They might not match the dress, but then again matching fashions had never been high on Alia's list of priorities.

As Alia made her way through the halls of the keep, she found herself in a better mood. She had no idea how on earth she could possibly free Valyrym, or even if she could truly succeed. And yet, the simple fact that she had decided to try seemed to have lifted a burden from her heart. It was Valyrym himself who said people should always have hope. Well, now Alia herself had something to hope for.

Alia walked swiftly through long stone corridors. Many of them were padded with thick beige carpeting, others held rugs of burgundy and deep ocean blue. She passed a variety of small antique tables of burled ebony, sets of shelves made of rich mahogany and cherry, and all sorts of other decorations. There were silver and gold candelabras set atop silk tablecloths. There were immaculate paintings upon the walls of scenes of Illandran history and various countryside settings. And there were beautiful, intricately woven tapestries of grand battles and victories. Alia tried not to pay too much attention to them. If any of them depicted victory over Aran'alia she did not wish to see it.

Once it had amazed her just how easily Illandran wealth could be depicted through things as seemingly simple as fine furniture and decor. Now, she couldn't help but wonder how much of it was ill-gotten loot from ransacked countries, or how much money could be raised to feed the poor if they sold it all off. Still, she wanted to improve her mood not sour it so she tried to keep her mind from wandering too far down such darkened roads.

Alia soon reached the area referred to as the Second Kitchen. Illandra's capital citadel had multiple kitchens spread throughout its sprawling grounds and each of them held a slightly different function. The First Kitchen was reserved entirely for the personal cooking staff of the Queen and her immediate royal family. It was in the First Kitchen that the very best food was kept and prepared, and it was off limits even to the majority of most of the castle stuff. The Second Kitchen was actually quite a bit larger, as they were responsible for preparing food for the vast majority of the nobles, guards, soldiers and workers who served and lived at the castle. There was also a Third Kitchen, which was sometimes referred to as the servant's kitchen as it primarily existed as a place for the servants to cook for themselves.

The Second Kitchen was one of the places Alia visited when she wanted to get something special for the dragon. Though most of Valyrym's meals came through an assortment of butchers and marketplace mongers of this and that, many of the special treats she'd brought him came from the Second Kitchen. The cooks and chefs there were nice enough and didn't mind it when Alia took something for the dragon. They knew well enough half the food prepared for the nobles was probably going to be wasted anyway. For much the same reason they didn't mind Kaylen sneaking some morsels for herself and her friends when she was on kitchen duty, they didn't mind Alia walking in and taking possession of a meaty delicacies. Better they go to someone who would actually enjoy them than some noble who'd eat a few bites and decide he wanted something else.

Alia pushed her way through the oaken double doors that marked the entrance to the kitchens. One door was inscribed with the word "Second" and the other "Kitchen." Both doors also shared engravings of things like bushels of wheat, racks of lamb, hams, and piles of fruit. Aromas of cooking meat and roasting vegetables wafted across Alia's face as soon as she opened the doors, accompanied by waves of warmth from all the cooking fires. Smoky scents presented themselves as well, it seemed the chef smoked something different just about every day. He took pride in his food, and Alia could not help but wonder if he was secretly very proud that even a dragon took pleasure in the things he'd cooked.

The room was noisy. The chef was calling out orders to his underlings and they in turn were bossing around their own subordinates. People in white, gray and black uniforms seemed to be rushing in all directions. It was later than Alia usually arrived, they were probably in the middle of preparing an extensive evening meal for the majority of the castle's population. Alia didn't want to get in their way, but she did have to get some food for Valyrym. Her own belly rumbled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten either. Alia folded her arms under her breasts, ignoring the fact it might not be an especially ladylike thing to do while wearing a dress. Then again Alia had never been one to act particularly ladylike in the first place.

The kitchen was divided by several long granite countertops. The servant's kitchen only had more typical wooden counters, but the Second Kitchen had stone. Much as it might seem it was just another display of wealth, Alia knew the stone counters were a wise idea. This kitchen saw far more usage than the other two, and granite simply did a better job standing up to the immense amount of wear and tear. Up and down each counter people were chopping vegetables and herbs, slicing up chops of meat, butchering hogs and lambs, and much more. Each counter as broken up by a few cooking fires as well, some with cast iron stew pots suspended above them, others burning low beneath copper pans and skillets or heating entire stone ovens with smoldering coals. People rushed back and forth, a chaotic but well rehearsed routine that they repeated day in and day out.

Amidst all the chaos, only one person really stood out. A little shorter and a little plumper than many of the other cooks and workers, and dressed differently as well. Black hair cascaded over the back of her black and white servant's dress. She was humming loudly enough to herself to be heard even over the shouted orders of the head chef, and wiggling her body in an odd little rhythm that was probably off-time even to the music in her head. She stood at the far counter, artfully arranging plate after plate of food. A pan with slices of roasted duck was set nearby, and each bit of meat she plucked from it was ever so carefully laid out against a crisscrossed latticework of roasted asparagus, then drizzled with a plum sauce. When the plates were completed she pushed them down the counter and soon someone else swept them up to deliver them to diners. Now and then the servant girl snuck a bit of duck for herself, and though she made no attempt to hide it, no one else made any attempt to notice.

"You there! Servant Girl!" Alia called out in the gruffest, most faux noble voice she could manage. "I see what you're doing there! How dare you steal food, you little tramp!"

Kaylen straightened in an instant, nearly dropping the next slice of duck on the floor. For a second, near-silence settled over the kitchen as they thought poor Kaylen was about to be dressed down. And if she was in trouble, odds were they'd all be reprimanded for allowing her behavior as well. After a moment's hesitation, Kaylen whirled around even as she picked her skirts up in a curtsy and lowered her eyes to the floor.

"My most sincere apologies, Madam!" Kaylen's voice was a nearly perfect approximation of actual regret. "I've no idea what has come over me! I swear to you, Madam, that I have never done such a thing before, and I promise on my own heart...that..." About that time Kaylen noticed the footwear of the woman in the blue dress who was chastising her. "Are those sandals, Madam?"

No real noblewoman would ever be caught dead wearing sandals with a dress. Come to think of it, that dress looked as though it were made of something as simple as dyed cotton. Hardly high quality material. When Kaylen didn't get an answer, she slowly lifted her eyes until she spotted Alia beaming down at her. As soon as their eyes met, Alia burst out laughing so hardly she nearly stumbled back through the very doors in which she'd just entered.

Kaylen dropped her skirt and shot back to her feet. "You dirty whore!" She burst out giggling as she gave Alia a forceful but playful shove. "You gave me quite a fright!"

Laughter broke out across the rest of the kitchen as well, and soon they were right back to work. Kaylen gave Alia a warm hug, and the two women embraced tightly for long moments. When they released each other, Kaylen returned to her station and resumed plating food, still giggling a little. "I should have known no real noblewoman would ever bother sullying herself by coming all the way down here. Gods forbid they might catch sight of someone doing some actual work for once."

Alia kept laughing as she moved up alongside her friend. Alia watched what Kaylen was doing for a moment, and began to give her a hand. Alia's plates were not as artistically perfect as Kaylen's, but Kaylen certainly wasn't going to complain about the help. "You should have seen yourself jump, Kaylen. I don't think I've ever seen anyone drop into a curtsy quite that fast before.'

"Thought I was about to get fired for a moment," Kaylen admitted, giggling. "My heart's still pounding."

"And yet you still found time to discuss my footwear," Alia said with a smirk.

"Yes, well, as soon as I spied your sandals I began to realize I'd been had." Kaylen spooned some sauce onto a plate, and handed it to the servant who was delivering it. "I shall have to think of a way to get you back." She gave Alia a devious grin, then softened her tone a little. "Still, I'm glad to see you. After the way things went last night, Thomas and I were a little worried about you. And about your dragon."

Alia paused a moment. Hard to believe that it was only the night before when she'd introduced her friends to Valyrym. Seemed like ages ago now that the old dragon had first begun to tell her about his road. Alia bit her lip, chuckling to herself. Such an innocuous way to start such a heartrending tale.

When Alia seemed frozen, Kaylen reached out and gently touched Alia's arm. "Are you alright?"

Alia gave a little sigh, and went back to work. She gave Kaylen a little smile. "Yes, yes I'm alright, thank you my dear."

"And...the dragon?" Kaylen had plated the last of the duck, and soon she was working on boar chops with roasted apples. She deftly quartered each roasted apple, placed the quarters in a sort of diamond shape. The crispy roasted skin was resting against the plate and the pale, cooked flesh was upturned. Then she laid out a boar chop against the center of the apples, and gently spooned a thick sauce atop it all. "Is he alright, as well?"

That was a harder question to answer. Alia wasn't really sure how to respond. For a few moments she busied herself emulating Kaylen's techniques as best she could. "I think your food comes out nearly as beautiful as your dresses."

"Thank you," Kaylen said with a very proud smile. Then she nudged Alia with the blunt end of her knife. "But how is your dragon doing?"

Alia chuckled a little bit. Kaylen could be surprisingly incisive when she wished to be. "He's in a lot of pain."

"I hope you haven't given the poor old thing a beating," Kaylen said, smiling. "He might be a little mouthy but he doesn't seem so bad to me."

Alia smiled a little as well. "He's as well as can be expected, I suppose. I think I...well..." Alia paused again, her knife resting against the plate, an apple lay uncut. "I wanted to help him, you know? To get him to unburden himself. But I didn't realize how fresh it would make things in his mind. I fear I've done little more than open all the old wounds he's spent so many years trying to mend."

"Ah," Kaylen said, nodding. "Then you shall have to help him mend them again, won't you."

"I'm not sure..."

"Hush now," Kaylen said, a little more forcefully. She waved her knife in the air as if making her point through threats of force. "You've done a fine job mending the poor old thing's nose and other wounds, and you'll do a fine job of mending his soul, as well. That's what you are, Alia. A mender."

Alia blinked. "A what?"

Kaylen smiled and went back to slicing apples and plating boar chops. "A mender. You mend things, Alia. People, mostly. Perhaps that makes you a healer, but my mother always called them menders. You've always put others before yourself, sometimes to a fault. Like those scars on your back that were meant for someone else." Alia stiffened, and Kaylen was silent for a little while. Then she gave a little sigh and went on. "You helped Thomas and I get our jobs here, you patch people when they're wounded. You heal people Alia, even when you don't know it. Body and soul, you're always there for them. If anyone can mend this dragon's soul, it is you, Alia."

Alia found herself smiling. Somehow Kaylen always found a way to lift her spirits. She suddenly turned and gave Kaylen another tight hug. Kaylen gave a little squeak of alarm, working to keep her knife well out of the way. "Careful, Alia, you damn near got yourself run through!"

Alia only smiled. When she pulled away from Kaylen, an odd question was suddenly tugging at the corners of her mind. She pushed away from the counter, looking around. Then she put her hands on her hips, and gave Kaylen a hard look. "Kaylen, if I leave this place, forever, would you come with me?"

"Oh?" Kaylen giggled, scratching at her lightly bronzed, lightly rounded nose with a free hand. "Riding off with some handsome prince, I suppose? Rather cliche, don't you think, Alia?"

Alia smirked. "What if I said I was riding off on a dragon, instead?"

Kaylen quirked a dark brow, tilting her head. Alia giggled at the gesture, it made Kaylen resemble a quizzical canine. "Is this hypothetical dragon kidnapping you, or are you going willingly?"

"Quite willingly."

"Oh!" Kylan's eyes widened further, and she found herself unable to resist a smile. "Well, yes, that's much less cliche."

"So would you go with us?"

"Yes," Kaylen said matter-of-factly, then returned to her duties plating food. She sliced a few hunks of boar off a spare chop, popped one in her mouth and handed the next to Alia. "That sounds like a grand adventure. Provided I had verbal assurances from the dragon that he wouldn't eat me."

"Not in the traditional sense," Alia couldn't help joking. She took a bite of the strip of boar. The skin was crispy, glazed and sweet while the meat was rich and juicy. The things nobles ate.

"What do you mean..." And then Kaylen caught on. "Oh, my!" Her face reddened in an instantly, and she turned away from Alia, trying to keep her giggle from escaping. It didn't work. Much as she tried to use her lips and teeth as a prison, the delightfully bubbling sound slipped out anyway. "Oh my, indeed! Has he...have you...has he actually..."

"That's quite enough out of you, Servant Girl," Alia said, grinning. Alia hadn't quite expected Kaylen's incisiveness to extend so far. Yet Alia knew of all people, Kaylen would be the last one to judge. Alia had certainly heard plenty of Kaylen's bawdy adventures with men, after all. Though this was a dragon, Alia didn't think that would change much for Kaylen. If Kaylen's mind were any more open, the castle itself would tumble inside. "So that's a yes, then? If I should leave this place forever on a dragon's back, you'll be coming with me?"

"Absolutely," Kaylen giggled. Surely, Alia was joking anyway. Yet, if she wasn't? "That is not an adventure I could ever forgive myself for passing up."

"Good," Alia said, slipping an arm around her friend's rounded waist. "Now, in the meantime, I've another idea. How would you like to come work for me?"

Kaylen glanced down the counter at the rest of the food that still needed plating. "I could squeeze in some time to assist you when I'm done here, but then I've got cleaning duties for the rest of the afternoon."

"Not any more you haven't," Alia said. Mischief sparked in her dark green eyes.

"What are you on about, you daft girl?" Kaylen kept working while they conversed.

"I'm offering you a job, actually."

Kaylen slowly let her hands come to rest against the granite countertop. "What sort of job?"

"The sort where you get paid a lot more and treated with a lot more respect." Alia began to smile, and her grin grew wider and wider with each beat of her heart. "The only downside is, you have to put up with being berated by a mouthy old egotist."

"Thomas isn't that old, Alia," Kaylen said, giggling. Then she grew more somber. "Are you serious about this?"

"Completely." Alia nodded, grinning. "Look, obviously you've got time to think it over. I need to get some food to Valyrym, and I'd appreciate it if you'd help me do that right now."

"I'm busy at the moment..."

"I'm sure someone else can take over your important duties of helping yourself to the nobles' food."

Kaylen burst out laughing, and dusted off her hands. "Yes, I suppose you're right. So you really want to hire me? As what, exactly?"

"My assistant," Alia replied. "My contract says I'm allowed to hire assistants if I deem them necessary. You'll be an official employee of the Wardens Office, just like me. You'll help me keep the dragon fed, keep his home clean, keep his records up to date, conduct business with the butchers and everyone involved with them, help me with the financial contracts, and really, just about everything I need done."

"Ah," Kaylen said, grinning. "So I'll be an errand girl."

Alia poked her friend in the chest, giggling. "Well, I do outrank you after all. I want to hire Thomas, as well, if he's willing."

"I don't see why he wouldn't be," Kaylen said, then gasped. "Oh! Can I at least outrank Thomas? Please?" Kaylen giggled and twirled in a circle, her black and white skirts swirling in the air. "Oh, it would be wonderful to have something to finally hold over his head. I could boss him around!"

Alia couldn't help laughing along with her friend. "Well, I suppose since I'm technically hiring you first..."

"Oh, so I do outrank him! Oh, this is wonderful!"

Alia shook her head, laughing to herself. "Maybe by the tiniest of margins."

"Thomas," Kaylen said, shifting her voice to a lower, gruffer tone. "Fetch me my wine at once Boy! Don't leave me waiting, or I'll toss you out on your ass!"

Alia only laughed harder, grinning. "You're a disaster, Kaylen."

Kaylen bounced on the balls of her feet a few times, her excitement like a physical thing trying to escape her. "I can't help it! But I suppose if Thomas is sent to fetch wine for anyone, it will be for the dragon. Though I seem to recall he likes rum, better."

"You mean when you're not coughing it up all over yourself?" Alia grinned, and then took Kaylen by the hand. If she didn't get her friend to help her fetch food for the dragon now, Kaylen would spend the rest of the day babbling in glee. "Now help me get him some food."

Alia lead Kaylen deeper into the kitchen, and was soon filling a burlap sack full of roast ducks. Kaylen protested about the treatment of such lovely food, but Alia assured her the dragon would be able to make just as much of a mess of himself no matter how the food was served. Alia also wanted to bring the dragon something a little more special. Nothing really caught her eye until she passed by the area where the Chef was always smoking one manner of meat or another. Something inside drew her attention.

"Are those what I think they are?" Alia asked the Chef when she caught his eye.

Alia set the ducks down and rubbed her hands together in excitement when the Chef confirmed her suspicions. "Kaylen, do me a favor and find the largest tray you can, and then cover it with those."

Kaylen stared at the food in question a moment, scrunching her nose. "Really? You actually think a dragon is going to like smoked fish?"

Alia smiled more brightly than Kaylen could ever recall. "Oh Kaylen, you have no idea."

---

Chapter Three

Valyrym lounged in the tub till the water began to grow cold. His thoughts wandered down the many roads he had traveled and the many bad decisions he had made in his long life. They all lead him here. There were so many things he wished he could take back, so many actions he longed to undue. Valyrym never wanted that child to die. That had hurt him almost as badly as it would have if it were Valar who died. And yet, if he were to relive his life again and again, he would avenge Amaleen every single time. He would do it differently so that the child might live and Valyrym could return to his son, but Amaleen's death simply could not go unanswered.

Valyrym was a creature of vengeance. He had tried to deny it, tried to make himself something better. In a way, he'd even tried to live the life of a human. He'd lived in a house in a city. He'd walked the streets and shopped at the market. And when Amaleen was gone, he tried to carry on that life. Blood for Blood was not the way of the humans in Sigil Stones, and it was not the way of Amaleen. But Valyrym was not a human. Valyrym was a dragon, and dragons were vengeful.

Valyrym could only hope his son would be the one to break that cycle somehow. Assuming his son was still alive. Valyrym sighed as he thought of Valar. He lay his head against the wall of the tub, staring off into the darkness while the hot water slowly cooled around his black scaled body. Though he had no way of knowing, somehow he felt that Valar was still alive out there. Since the day of his imprisonment, that was all that Valyrym had left to hope for. Oftentimes, the only thing that kept Valyrym going was to cling to the simple hope that somewhere out that, Valar still drew breath. It seemed a foolish thought to clutch so tightly to his heart. After all even if Valar did yet live, Valyrym would never see him again. Why hope for something he would never be able to confirm one way or another?

It was because that glimmer of hope was the only light left in Valyrym's dark empire of stone.

At least, it had been until the day Alia arrived. In that first moment when she came into his life, and did all she could to feign courage while she faced him down, Valyrym saw something in her he hadn't seen since Amaleen died. There was boldness and defiance in her eyes and those things drew him first. But beyond that, there was warmth in her like he hadn't glimpsed in another being in so many years. She offered to build him that damn tub not as some reward for good behavior, but simply because she wanted him to be treated better. He saw glimpses of her heart that first day, buried beneath her false but amusing bravado. Valyrym saw her heart when she bore his insults and matched them with her own, when she engaged him not as a prisoner or a monster but another person.

But not until the night Alia stitched his wounds had he begun to see Alia at her all. That was when the beauty inside Alia truly began to shine through whatever imagined armor of feigned bravery she draped herself in. In that moment, the courage in her was real and all she wanted to do was protect the creature who had not been able to protect himself. Though he'd said nothing of it at the time, as she stitched his nose all he could think of was how much she reminded him of Amaleen.

They were both healers, but that was not the crux of it. If anything, Alia's methods and techniques were crude and simple compared to the knowledge Amaleen had shared with him. The difference of course being that Amaleen had studied such arts her entire life from master healers, whereas Alia had simply learned them from her mother, who had in turn likely learned them herself out of necessity while journeying across the lands as a refugee. But that was not what mattered. No, what mattered was in their hearts they shared the same desire to help those who needed it.

It was so simply a thing, and yet it seemed so rare. Valyrym could not help but think that in much of the world, let alone Illandra, most people upon finding an imprisoned monster clutching his bloodied snout would first think, what did he do to deserve it? Even in Aran'alia, before he'd made his deals, how many of land's people would have rushed to a dragon's aid without even stopping to ask what happened? Yet for Amaleen...and for Alia, their first question was inevitably, how can I help?

It warmed the old dragon's heart for just a moment to know that Amaleen's kindness and spirit had persisted among her people even as they were scattered to the winds. Yet that didn't mean Valyrym had come to believe he deserved Alia's kindness. That said, he was hardly going to turn it down. He had suffered here in lonely solitude for more decades than he had dared to count in some time. If it was his fate that his last years should be spent in the company of someone he could share love with one last time, he was not going to fight it.

Especially now that she knew everything he had done. Now that she knew the monster he'd become in his last moments of freedom. A murderous beast who slew a child and abandoned his own son to pursue revenge. Valyrym wondered if Valar had ever actually read the letter he wrote him, the night before he left. If he had, he hoped his young one had taken it to heart.

Young one. He would hardly be a young one now. If Valyrym's estimation of the years he'd spent down here were even close to accurate, Valaranyx would be an adult by now. As old perhaps as Valyrym himself had been when he'd first conquered the road, if not older still. Valyrym tried to picture Valar in his mind, all grown up. No doubt Valar would be a handsome enough male that should he find a group of unrelated female dragons, surely they'd all be lifting their tails for him in no time.

The thought made him laugh, and the rumbling sound echoed around the chamber. Valyrym sighed a little. It seemed so quiet when Alia wasn't around. He went back to thinking about Valaranyx. Perhaps he had only grown up handsome in Valyrym's mind. But what parent didn't think their son or daughter would grow up strong and beautiful? In his mind, Valyrym saw his son standing tall, and proud. His body was strong, muscled beneath his black scales, and he was a little bit lither than his father had been. Blue coated his wings more completely now than it did in his youth, and the blue that tipped his snout had crept half way up his face. His blue mittens remained, the indigo scales covered his four limbs as unevenly as ever. His eyes blazed bright and golden, and the silvery flecks in them shone with determination. Or was it anger? Disappointment? Regret?

Valyrym shook his head. He did not like to imagine his son angry with him, but he could not help but do so. Still, wherever Valar was Valyrym hoped he had grown up strong. He hoped that Valar's wings had strengthened as well so his son could discover the true joy of flight even if with little agility. Some days, when Valyrym stared out one of his air vents, counting what few stars he could still glimpse, he imagined his son flying overhead. He could almost see the silhouette of a dragon passing above, blotting out the stars for a only a moment and then vanishing again.

Valyrym shivered all at once, realizing the water had grown cold around him. Little ripples and waves washed across the tub, propelled by his shivering body. With a sigh, Valyrym pushed himself to his feet, and carefully opened the flood gates to let the tub empty out back. The water poured out across the floor of the prison, sloshing towards the ancient drainage grate installed there by whoever had first built this place. Whoever it was, he rather doubted that they'd imagined the drainage system they'd cut into the stone would one day serve as the basis for a dragon's tub.

Valyrym snorted to himself in amusement. Technically, the drainage area itself served as the dragon's latrine, given that it naturally flushed itself out with the flow of water that ran through the area day and night. He rather doubted they'd ever imagined that, either.

As the tub emptied, Valyrym carefully stepped over the walls and onto dry stone. He shook himself a little bit, all his scales rustled and clicked and water flew off of his body in a misty cloud of spray and droplets. The dragon lifted each of his limbs and shook them out individually, then did the same with his wings, tail, and head. As he worked to dry himself, he glanced up towards the dim light pouring down through his air vents. Normally, the light would be bright and golden this time of the afternoon. But the rain clouds left it a sort of faint bluish-gray color, more of a glow than an actual shaft of light. Valyrym almost expected the rain to shine silver, but it did not. It never did.

There was no magic in the rain or anywhere else in Illandra.

A bitter smirk twisted across Valyrym's muzzle as he turned away from the vents and began to limp across his prison. All these decades trapped beneath the heart of his enemy and sometimes the lack of color in the rain still surprised him. He had never actually seen clear rain until he came to Illandra to pursue his revenge. It seemed as strange and exotic to him as the silver rain must to those who visited Aran'alia. Some days, when he awoke to find it raining, he glanced to the vents expecting to glimpse silver drops falling through the holes. The momentary confusion that followed was still enough to leave his heart sinking a little.

Valyrym wondered how long Alia had been away. She was supposed to be bringing him food. His belly rumbled ominously. At this rate, if she brought any servants to help her carry his meal he was going to have to eat them too. Hopefully the castle would deduct that loss from Alia's pay. That would teach her to leave a hungry dragon waiting. Valyrym grinned to himself, lashing his spined tail. The spikes rattled against the stone floor as he padded across his prison.

In truth, he imagined Alia needed a little time to collect herself. For a moment, cold talons pressed their way into his heart and belly. What if Alia wasn't coming back? A pained grimace twisted the dragon's muzzle into a worried mask of black and gray scale. What if she was so disgusted by what he was done she did not wish to see him anymore? He pinned his frilled ears back against his head. Valyrym wasn't sure he could handle that pain now. Yet, he knew that wasn't true. Alia would not lie to him, and she told him that she would stay with him no matter what. Slowly, a smile began to stretch across his snout, revealing a few of his sharp teeth as his pain was replaced by something better.

Valyrym believed Alia. Valyrym trusted Alia. There was not a bigger compliment he could offered her, and he only hoped she would come to understand that. Content that Alia would return to him when she was ready, Valyrym decided simply to be patient. Perhaps he would get a little carving done while he waited for her to bring him his damn lunch already.

Valyrym limped back towards his sleeping chamber. His thoughts drifted and circled around Alia like a curious feline. How had she been brought to him? Had he truly done something so great in his time spent imprisoned to have earned a reprieve? What great thing had he done to deserve her companionship? Perhaps the answer was simpler than he wished to believe.

The old dragon knew what he would have told himself many years ago. It was quite simply the same thing he'd told Kylaryn when they spoke about how easily things could have been different between them. A few simple words spoken at the right time, and the two of them might still be together to this day. And yet, those words were not spoken until it was too late. By then, the whim of the winds had carried them apart.

Maybe Alia was right. That was what Valyrym himself would have said years ago, Alia had simply used the old dragon saying to explain her own arrival. To explain their own growing love. What was it she'd said? That the winds had carried Alia to Valyrym, to tell him he had suffered enough. That she was his symmetry. Happiness to balance his sorrow.

Valyrym stopped dead in his tracks, and began to laugh. "Damn you!" He cursed out loud, shaking his head. He hadn't thought about that stupid old man for many years, not until he found himself pouring his heart's blood out for Alia. He would have been perfectly happy forgetting all about old Asgir and his foolish attempts at wisdom and his ugly, nit-infested beard. But no, Alia had to go and convince Val to tell his tale, and in so doing Alia had seized upon the hermit's words as doctrine.

"Symmetry," Valyrym muttered, starting on his way again. "Very well, Alia. You can be my symmetry." He glanced behind himself as if imagining Alia was really there. "But if you tell the old man, I shall eat you."

When Valyrym reached his sleeping chamber, he quickly fetched Val Junior. He lifted him in a paw first, gazing down at the little cotton stuffed hatchling. For a second, he was really looking at Valaranyx. The little hatchling was gazing back at him with love, his blue-tipped muzzle split wide with a grin. And then he promptly swatted Val on the nose. The vision was so clear in Val's mind he practically yelped.

"At least that's one thing I don't have to worry about with you, Val Junior," Valyrym said, perfectly happy to use the toy's name when Alia wasn't around. He squeezed it a little bit, grinning to himself. "You only strike me on the nose when Alia hurls you." He gave a sigh, and continued to speak to the toy. In an odd way he thought it seemed slightly less foolish to talk to a stuffed dragon than it did to talk to himself. "It is not fair, Val Junior. The old man isn't supposed to be right about things. And he's certainly not supposed to be able to pass on his so-called wisdom from beyond his likely frozen grave. Well, at least he's not around to gloat about being right all along." Valyrym paused, and then hissed at the toy. "What are you talking about? Oh no, he's not allowed to gloat once he's dead, I won't allow it."

Valyrym blinked, and then began to laugh again. "Gods, I'm going daft. I'm starting to talk to you even when she's not around. Next thing I know, that old man really will be haunting me and gloating about his damn symmetry."

Valyrym set the toy down, and then carefully took Val Junior in his jaws as he walked back out of his sleeping chamber. The toy was soft enough he could easily hold it in his paw and walk upon it, yet it simply did not seem right. Quick as he was to toss around and abuse the toy when Alia was there, in private he'd always treated it gently. Alia had not seen the old dragon take the toy in his jaws until the night he began his tale, but Valyrym had done so many times before.

Valyrym had seen Valar's face on that toy since the moment she brought it to him. The look that Alia saw on the old dragon's face when she first introduced Val Junior was not one of disgust at being given a child's toy that bore his name. No, it was a look of horror to know that every day now he would be faced with a cotton-stuffed reminder of the son he'd left behind. As if he didn't spend enough time thinking about his son as it was. Valyrym's first instincts were to destroy the toy so he wouldn't have to look at it, and to discourage Alia from buying him another.

In fact, after she left that day, Valyrym returned to where the stuffed dragon lay after being swatted aside. He was intent upon tearing the thing into tiny little shreds and letting the stream flush them down the drain. Yet, as he stood over the toy, it simply seemed so helpless. Just like Valar had been. In that moment the toy transformed into a far happier reminder than Val had ever expected. Valyrym had picked Val Junior up in his jaws, carried him back to his sleeping chamber, and tucked him lovingly into his bedding. Now, more often the not, the little stuffed dragon and its reminder of happier times made him smile.

With Val Junior in his jaws, the old dragon padded out of his sleeping chamber and made his way to his timeline. He walked to the area where the carvings were unfinished, set Val Junior down on the ground, and then settled back on his haunches. He spent a few moments adjusting the little toy until it appeared as though Val Junior was studying the carvings on the wall intently. With everything in order, Valyrym began to study them the same way.

The dragon murmured to himself now and then as he examined the lines he'd cut to resemble Alia's face. He was not yet finished with her image, but it was hardly something he could rush. He lifted a paw and pressed his pad to the cool stone as if seeking the pulse of the rock itself. Now and then he gently rubbed the stone with his pad. It was mostly smooth here, whoever had first carved this place from the bedrock beneath the castle had smoothed down the walls as well as the floor. Valyrym pulled his head back, tilting it back and forth, scrutinizing the way that all the previously cut lines worked together. He was looking for something, places to add more lines for detail and accent. The image was Alia, but it did not yet look as glowing and lively as he wanted it to. It was a sketch and Valyrym wanted a portrait.

When he was ready to carve his first line, he ever so slowly dragged his claw across the stone, scratching out a guideline. Then he studied that guideline in relation to the rest of the carving, and satisfied it was where he wanted it, he began to carve. Carving stone with claws was a very laborious and painstaking procedure. Though Valyrym had no way to be certain, he could not help but imagine that his method of carving was even more difficult than that which Asgir once undertook. After all he had no tools beyond his own claws. Though in the days people used to smuggle him things they'd even brought him a few large hammers and chisels, he disdained them. Valyrym preferred the natural sharpness and sturdiness of his own claws, and his own strength to press them into the stone. The more difficult the work was, the more focus it would require. And the more focus it required the calmer he became.

Cutting stone was hardly a natural use for a dragon's claws, though Val had known dragons who used rocks and boulders to sharpen or trim their claws now and then. And while a dragon's claws were naturally exceedingly sharp and strong, they could certainly still be broken. In the many years Valyrym had carved the stone he'd broken his claws more times than he could count. He had come to learn a great deal of patience for his carving, just as he had eventually come to learn how much force and pressure he could safely exert without cracking or shattering a claw. Thankfully, when they did break they eventually grew back.

Valyrym often kept only a single claw unsheathed while he carved, unless he was carving multiple lines at once. Generally he used the claw on what a human might call their index finger. He dragged it down the guide line, pressing firmly enough for his claw tip to scrape through the stone. Then he did so again, and again, and again. Though his claws were strong, they could hardly slice through stone the same way they sliced through flesh. Cutting a single line deeply enough to be easily observed in the carving took quite a few applications, scrapping and cutting through a single small layer of stone at a time until eventually a deep line had been gouged out.

When he had finished the line, he smiled to himself, looking it over. Yes, that was looking better already. In the image, Alia had her head tilted slightly to the side, and the line he'd just added was the beginning of a few tresses of dark hair hanging to the side of her head in a carefree manner It would take quite a few lines for that effect, but Valyrym had nothing but time. He also planned to add some lines around her mouth, to add to the effect that she was smiling.

By the time Alia and Kaylen arrived, Valyrym had completely lost himself to his work. The two women set the tray of fish down upon the same ledge they'd previously shared cake and rum. Alia carried the burlap sack filled with roasted ducks as they set off to find Valyrym. Valyrym was seated on his haunches in front of the timeline wall, with his paw pressed to the stone. His gray-edged wings were draped partly unfurled at his sides like half-opened curtains. The dragon's long neck was arched, his graying muzzle nearly pressed to the stone. Valyrym tilted his horned head back and forth, studiously examining the line he was currently carving in the stone. Now and then his spined tail clattered against the stone as if it were bored of the dragon's work. Val Junior sat just alongside the old dragon, apparently keeping tabs on his surrogate father's progress.

To Alia, the sight was strangely heartwarming. To think that he'd actually brought Val Junior out as if to keep himself company. The dragon seemed so absorbed in his carving that he hadn't even noticed the two women approaching. Alia and Kaylen came to a stop a little ways off from the dragon. Val flicked his frilled ears, the spiny crests atop his head raised and lowered at a pace set by the dragon's thoughts. For a few moments, Alia considered quietly walking off so as not to disturb him while he was so consumed by his work.

Kaylen, as was often her nature, took the choice out of Alia's hands. "Oh," she squealed in delight. "He's doing his carving! He looks so adorably thoughtful, like a little old man studying his latest masterpiece."

Though Kaylen might have meant that for Alia's ears, it was rarely in her nature to keep quiet. Valyrym jerked his head up in an instant, rose to all fours, and whirled around to face the two women. He hissed at them, all his spiny frills flared up around his head. He tightened his wings up against his body, lashing his tail behind himself. His golden eyes gleamed even in the very dim light of the dungeon, and soon they had fixed themselves upon Kaylen.

"Did you just call me an old man?" Valyrym demanded, hissing once more.

"Yes," Kaylen said with a giggle. "But I meant it in a good way. You know, like those little old men you see hobbling along, all stooped over, and you just want to go and give them a hug. Which is why I also called you adorable."

Valyrym snarled, swiftly advancing upon Kaylen. For a moment, his limp seemed gone, though Alia imagined he was just putting on a show to try and frighten her friend. "I am neither old, nor a man, and I am certainly not adorable!"

"Oh, don't be a cranky old dragon," Kaylen said, beaming despite the dragon's best efforts to intimidate her. "Alia says you're quite the sweetheart under all that armor and all those spines."

"Does she." The dragon's voice was flat as he turned his glare to Alia.

"Yes," Alia said, setting down the bag filled with ducks. Grinning, she rubbed the old dragon's soft, gray-marked nose. "She does. Now stop trying to intimidate my friend, and come see what we've brought you."

"If I'm to put up with you and your friend, it had better be an entire barrel of rum," Valyrym muttered under his breath as he glared down at Alia. "And I don't think you can fit such in that bag."

"The bag's not all we brought," Alia said, hoisting it up. She opened it and pulled one of several roast ducks out, then held it in offering to the dragon. "This is your first course."

"First course?" The dragon cocked his head, then delicately took the proffered fowl. "I rather like the sound of that."

"I thought you might," Alia grinned, her blue dress swishing about her sandaled feet as she began to walk backwards away from the dragon. She pulled another duck out, using it as a lure to get the dragon to follow her.

Valyrym ate the first duck and licked his muzzle with a happy purr. "Where are you going? Come back here with that duck." Grumbling under his breath, he began to pad along after Alia and Kaylen.

"Come and get it, you silly beast," Alia said with a little giggle. Then she smiled. "And your barrel of rum comes later," Alia said with a little giggle. "It should be delivered within a few days at most."

"Really?" The dragon lifted his head, grinning. "You're getting me a barrel of rum?"

"Good rum, even." Alia tossed her hair as she smiled at the dragon at the dragon. "It was going to be a surprise, but after last night, I think you've earned a little happiness in advance. Now catch!"

" I see," the dragon murmured to himself. He gazed at Kaylen as he followed them across the vast chamber, wondering just how much of his story Alia had related to her friend. Then when Alia threw him the second duck he snapped it up in his jaws in midair without missing a step.

"What were all those images back there, that'd you'd carved along that wall?" Kaylen turned around, and walked backwards just like Alia so she could regard the dragon.

"My life," the dragon said with a snort after chomping up the duck and gulping it down. "Such as it was."

"Oooh!" Kaylen giggled happily, clasping her hands in front of her breasts. "I should be delighted to see that."

"And I should be delighted if you did not." Valyrym clattered his tail spines against the floor.

"Oh, don't be a grumpy old lizard." Kaylen clucked her tongue as though speaking to a cranky child who did not wish to take his nap. "I'm only curious. You're the only dragon I've ever known, and I can hardly imagine what sort of life you must have lived."

"Consider yourself lucky," the dragon rumbled beneath his breath.

Alia cast the dragon another glance, smiling. "You could tell her the good parts."

"The good parts inevitably lead to the bad." The dragon flicked his ears. Haunted ghosts and pain drifted behind his eyes a moment, and he looked away.

Alia came to a stop. It wasn't like Valyrym to be unable to hide his pain in front of others. Alia was starting to realize that although he'd rebuilt his walls, relating his tale to her had punched holes in them he might never mend. She passed the bag to Kaylen, and then took the dragon's scaly head in her arms, hugging it against her body. "I know they do. But unless you don't want me to, I think I'd like to tell Kaylen and Thomas some of the good parts."

The dragon growled against Alia, closing his eyes. "If you must."

Valyrym's gruff response was all the acquiescence Alia could hope for. She gently stroked his throat a little bit, holding him a few moments longer. "They should know who you fought for, Valyrym."

"Myself, mostly," the dragon said, pulling his head back. Alia laughed, they both knew that wasn't true. But Valyrym had his appearances to keep up in front of Kaylen.. "Now stop delaying my meal. Where is the rest of my food?"

Alia patted the dragon's nose, and lead him the rest of the way across the chamber. As he padded after her, Valyrym dropped his head to nudge Alia's hand again. Since she hadn't yet told him about the bandage, he decided to force the issue. She stroked his muzzle as if not realizing what he meant by the gesture.

After a moment, Valyrym pulled his head back, snorting. "What did you do to your hand?"

"Hmm?" Alia glanced at her bandage, and realized the dragon must be worried about her. "Oh. I smashed it on the tub, actually."

"Why on earth would you do that?"

Alia giggled sheepishly, rubbing her sore hand. "You're not the only one who can throw a fit when they're angry."

"Ah," the dragon said, grunting. Then he smirked a little. "I hope you've not injured it too badly."

Alia shook her head. "Just a little cut, really."

As they walked, Kaylen decided to distract the dragon from Alia's wound by passing the last two roasted ducks. She was giggling like a giddy maid at having a chance to feed the dragon. For his part Valyrym made an effort not to bit her hands off in the process. Though when she commented that feeding ducks to a dragon reminded her of feeding apples to a horse, he was severely tempted to remove a finger on principal alone.

A few torches flickered near the door to the stairs, and a lantern now hung from another sconce near the stony ledges where the women had set the rest of the dragon's food. They must have had some servants bring down light in addition to the food they carried. Valyrym was a little surprised to realize just how wrapped up in his carving he'd been. Over the years he'd grown used to ignoring people in his chamber while he worked. Some days it was guards taunting him in an attempt to make him lash out so they'd have an excuse to punish him. Other days it was some idiot former warden babbling about his new rules and this and that. As the decades passed they'd all blended together into one massive string of irritation that Valyrym had grown very good at blocking out when he was busy carving.

Now if Alia was going to bring her friends by more often, he supposed he'd have to start paying a little more attention. Valyrym hadn't really expected Alia to make a habit of bringing her friends down, and seeing Kaylen standing alongside her surprised the dragon. Though, he could not say he was disappointed to see Alia had not come alone. The other night the dragon had actually been enjoying himself with her companions until the subject of Aran'alia came up. After all it had been ages since he'd had a chance to simply sit and converse with friends.

Were they his friends?

Alia certainly was, but he was not so sure about Thomas and Kaylen. It seemed as though Kaylen wished to be his friend, though from her attitude the dragon surmised she was happy to be anyone's friend given a chance. Then again, that wasn't such a bad thing. Thomas he wasn't so sure about, though the young man seemed to warm to the dragon as the night wore on. And even if they were not his friends, Valyrym had to admit that he'd enjoyed seeing them socializing with Alia. He'd even enjoyed sharing in that for a while. Though, he'd never admit as much to their faces.

Valyrym's gray nostrils twitched at the end of his black muzzle as he reached the far side of the room, near the area they'd walled up after chaining him inside. A strangely familiar scent was wafting from the nearby ledge. For a moment, he couldn't place it. It smelt vaguely of wood smoke, as though someone was trying to coax damp, smoldering wood into full flame. Yet it also smelled like...He sniffed a few more times. Smelled like...

"...Is that smoked fish?" The dragon asked softly, as he climbed up onto the ledge.

Alia, beaming, seated herself next to the tray covered with the nostalgic delicacies. "It is," Alia said, beckoning the dragon over. "Come and make yourself comfortable. I'll see if I can get them scaled for you." She giggled a little. "Though I doubt I can do it as well as Valar."

Valyrym found himself smiling despite his best intentions not to. "Valar made learning to properly scale smoked fish his life's work."

"Who's Valar?" Kaylen asked innocently enough as she settled nearby.

Valyrym gave a long sigh as he gingerly lowered himself down onto his belly. Then he rolled to his side a little bit, stretching his hind legs out lazily. He turned his gaze onto Kaylen a moment, doing what he could to keep the golden walls intact. There was little he could do to hide his pain from Alia now, but he did not need everyone human who came to visit him to know just how deeply his old wounds had truly cut him. He licked his muzzle a moment, watching her as if considering whether or not her question was worth answering.

Finally, Valyrym simply said, "He is my son."

"Ooooh," Kaylen cooed, grinning. "Was that him on the wall thing over there? The little dragon puppy?"

Valyrym flared up his central spines as Alia stuffed her half her fist into her mouth to keep from laughing. "We do not call our young puppies! But yes..." The dragon eased his tone, but kept glaring at the somewhat plump young woman. "That is him on the "wall thing" as you call it." Valyrym waved a paw in the air, waggling a few unsheathed claws. "You're nearly as bad as the other one who was here."

"Thomas?" Kaylen canted her head, and then quickly shook it. Dark tresses waved back and forth in front of her face. "Oh, no, no, no. I'm not near as bad as Thomas. Thomas is far too stuffy to be any fun."

Alia smiled to herself. She worked with the simple knife, trying to de-scale the smoke bronzed fish. Her first few attempts were awkward, and she ended up shaving as much meat off the fish as she did scales. With a heavy sigh, Kaylen reached over and took the entire tray from her, then held out her hand for the knife. With a sheepish look, Alia passed the blade to her friend.

"So dragons don't like to eat the scales on fish?" Kaylen glanced up at Valyrym as she began to work.

"Do you?" Valyrym snapped.

"No, but I haven't got big, sharp, pointy teeth, either." Kaylen giggled to herself. With deft and practiced motions she quickly removed the scales from one side of a fish, flipped it over and did the same.

"Valyrym gets the scales all over his face," Alia confided in her friend, just loud enough to make sure Valyrym heard it too.

"Oh, just like the frosting from that cake?" Kaylen giggled even louder than before.

Valyrym lifted his ears and bared a few of his fangs at Kaylen. "So says the one who poured half the rum all over herself."

"And the other half of it went right down your gullet," Kaylen replied, scaling another fish. "But none of us complained about you hogging it all."

"I should send Val Junior to bite you," Valyrym muttered, flicking his tail. He glanced back the way they'd come. The stone-carved timeline was mostly shrouded in gloom on the other side of the chamber. Val Junior may as well have been playing hide and seek with the shadows themselves. "But I left him to carry on my carving while I'm away."

"It's just the same," Kaylen giggled. "He and I got to be friends last night. He'd never bite me now."

"No," Valyrym mused as much to himself as to the others. "I suppose he wouldn't."

"But he would bite Thomas," Alia said with a smile as she shared a private joke with the dragon.

"Hard and often," Valyrym said in agreement. Then he turned his attention down to Kaylen who had already scaled at least a dozen of the smoked fish they'd brought. "You're quite good at that. My son would have been proud."

Kaylen smiled up at the dragon. "I've spent a lot of time in the kitchen here. Even when I was young, I used to help my mother do the cooking and such around the house. Why would that make your son proud, though?" Kaylen tilted her head. "Was he a chef?"

Valyrym blinked at the ludicrousness of that statement. He was just about to spit a venomous retort belittling the very idea when an image popped into his head. He saw Valar standing in Amaleen's kitchen, reared up on his hind legs. With a spoon clutched in one paw, he was stirring a great pot of soup. With his other paw, he was trying to keep the oversized white chef's hat he was wearing from falling down over his eyes and the rest of his snout. Behind him the whole wall was covered in hanging fish being smoked, and as Valar didn't know any better than to smoke them indoors, the entire kitchen was quickly filling up with gray clouds.

The image of Valaranyx wearing a giant floppy chef's hat while smoking fish and stirring soup was too much for Valyrym to handle. It struck him just right and the old dragon burst out laughing. Valyrym was soon laughing so hard his wings were shaking and his tail spines were rattling against the stony ledge. Alia and Kaylen simply exchanged looks. Alia shrugged, and soon she was giggling alongside the dragon. Finally, Valyrym lifted a paw to wipe a mirthful tear from one of his golden eyes. He shook his head, and gave a happy sigh.

"Ah, my dear girl, thank you." Val licked his nose, smiling. "I certainly needed that. No, my son was by no means a chef. Nor has any dragon ever been a chef, unless you count setting our prey on fire to be a culinary skill. But you have left me with the desire to a find a pillar somewhere, and carve little Valar upon it wearing an oversized chef's hat falling over his eyes."

Alia giggled a little more, and so did Kaylen. Then she glanced at Alia, whispering. "I still don't know why scaling fish would make his son proud."

"Because Kaylen, it's quite simple. In fact I can sum it up with a poem." Alia looked up at Val, and made a show of clearing her throat. She gestured dramatically in the air with her hands as though about recite some grand and sweeping epic. "Smoked Fishy, yum yum yum! Smoked Fishy..."

"In my tum," Valyrym finished Valar's poem for her, grinning widely. His fangs glittered in the lantern light, his golden eyes glowed. "Yes, that sums it up nicely, I think."

Kaylen gave the dragon a baffled look that was matched only by the confused glance she shot Alia as she scaled the last of the fish. "You two are odd."

Valyrym waved dismissively at Alia with a forepaw. "She's the odd one. I am quite normal by the standards of a dragon." He cocked his head, spines drooping a little. "Or at least the standards of a dragon held for decades beneath the earth."

Valyrym gazed up at the rain coming through one of the skylights. For a moment, Alia could almost see the rain reflecting silver in the dragon's gaze. He blinked, and turned his head away, and then chuckled to himself. Soon, Val reached for one of the smoked fish, and plucked it up off the tray between two claws. He held it aloft and gazed at the de-scaled fish with a strange mixture of longing, sorrow, and happiness.

"They're not the same fish you'd get in Aran'alia, obviously," Alia said. "But they're the closest I could get you."

"Oh Alia," Valyrym said, his voice growing softer. "They are perfect." Slowly, the sorrow Alia saw in the dragon's eyes was replaced by warmth and happiness. "Thank you, Alia."

As Valyrym popped the first fish into his mouth, Alia moved around the tray to put her hand atop his other paw. She smiled up at him, and stroked his leg a little. "You are ever so welcome, Valyrym."

Valyrym savored the smoky taste of the still-familiar treat and Alia's kind thoughtfulness equally. As he slowly chewed it up, he began to purr. He made no effort to hide it from Kaylen this time, and soon the sound of heavy stones tumbling about inside a wooden barrel was emanating loudly enough from the dragon to nearly rattle the scales on his throat.

"I like your purr," Kaylen said, smiling up at him. "You should not hide it so."

Valyrym reached for another fish, and even offered Kaylen a smile. "To better answer your earlier question, Alia brought me these because they hold a special significance to me. My son would have been proud of your fish-scaling ability because out of all the various and wonderful treats you humans have concocted, smoked fish were his all time favorite food."

"Aww," Kaylen giggled a little, glancing at Alia with a smile. "That's so sweet of you Alia." Then she peered back up to the dragon, licking her lips. "But how did your son get to eat smoked fish? Didn't you live in a cave, or something?"

Valyrym was in too good a mood now to let painful memories sully his time with Alia, or his meal. "My dear woman, you have no idea of the enormity of what you're asking. Suffice it to say that while we did live in a cavern for a time, we also lived together in a human village." He chewed the fish thoughtfully, then added, "In Aran'alia."

Kaylen softened her tone a little bit, leaning back onto her hands. "Thomas and I thought as much. That was your old home, wasn't it. We didn't mean to upset you last night."

"I know," Valyrym said, taking another fish and handing it to Alia. Then he waved at the tray. "Go on then, Kaylen. Help yourself."

"I thought you'd never ask!" Kaylen took up one of the smoked fish in her hands, and heedless of the oily nature of the meat quickly began to pick it from the bones and pop it into her mouth. "Oh, it's lovely!"

"Yes," Valyrym murmured, smiling down at Alia. "It certainly is."

Alia took the fish that Valyrym offered her, and moved to lean up against the dragon's body while she ate it. Valyrym peered down at her a moment, noticing for the first time just what she was wearing. The blue dress fit her well, the way it darkened as it blossomed out around the bottom made it look like an indigo flower swishing around her sandaled feet. He curled a foreleg around her middle, uncaring that Kaylen was there. If he could be affectionate to Amaleen in front of an entire town, he could damn sure show Alia the same affection in front of a single person.

"I think this may only be the second time I've seen you in a dress," Valyrym mused, his tail curling. "And they've both been blue."

"This is the only nice one I have," Alia admitted, laughing. "I bought it a few years ago, when I first got a job at the castle. I have that more casual blue sundress, I like to wear that now and then. Blue's one of my favorite colors. But this is the only formal dress I have."

"I remember that," Kaylen said, depositing some fish bones back on the tray. Unlike the dragon she couldn't exactly eat them whole. "You should wear it more often, it looks lovely on you."

"It does," Valyrym agreed. "You look beautiful, Alia."

Alia felt her face flush a little. She hoped the orange glow of the lantern would cover up the reddening of her cheeks. Though she was an attractive enough woman, beautiful was not a word she'd heard often from most of the men she'd been with. She'd heard it from Thomas, back when things were different between them, but it had been a while now. She found herself smiling as she stroked the dragon's leg.

"Thank you, Valyrym." She glanced away a moment, smiling to herself. "I hoped you'd like it."

"My pleasure, Alia," the dragon rumbled softly.

"What about my dress?" Kaylen said, playfully indicating her maid's uniform.

Valyrym turned his attention back to the other woman, hoping she wasn't expecting a serious answer. Her dress was layered in stripes of black and white fabric. It managed the rare feat of looking both formal and ludicrous. Valyrym scrunched up his muzzle and shook his head, grinning. "You look like the jester mated with the maid."

Kaylen giggled and scrunched up her nose in the best approximation of the dragon she could manage. "I'm not exactly sure what that means." She began to pick some meat off the bones of another fish, licking her fingers. "I mean, even if a jester and a maid had a child together, how would she give birth to a dress?"

"Quit while you're ahead, Kaylen," Alia advised her friend with a giggle.

Valyrym snorted as he helped himself to another fish as well. "That's nice of you to let her think she was ever ahead in the first place."

Kaylen stuck her tongue out at the dragon. Valyrym resisted the urge to poke it back into her mouth with a finger. For a moment, he wondered if all Aran'alian women shared that gesture. Then he simply did the same thing he would have done to Amaleen, or Alia at this point. He let his own long pink tongue hang from his snout, as close as he could come to sticking it out at her.

Kaylen burst out giggling, shaking her head. "It's not quite the same when a dragon does it! You look as though you're about to lick the platter clean. Or perhaps about to vomit." Kaylen peered up at the dragon for a moment, grinning. "It sure is long and red though, isn't it."

"Yes, Girl, I assure you," Valyrym purred, grinning at Alia. "It is quite long and red."

"Pppbbtttt!" Alia made a funny noise as she did all she could not to burst out laughing at that statement. Soon she covered her mouth with her hand, laughing into her palm as her cheeks flushed redder.

Valyrym turned his head to gaze down at her a moment, flaring his spines a little in mock concern. "Are you having a fit, Alia?"

Alia shook her head, still giggling into her hand.

"I don't know what was so funny about my description of your tongue," Kaylen said, giving Alia an odd look. She hooked some dark hair behind an ear.

"I don't think my tongue is what she thought of when you said long, and red." Valyrym's voice was as oily as the fish they dined upon as he smirked down at Alia.

Alia slapped the dragon on the foreleg, glaring up at him. As she couldn't yet take her hand away from her mouth lest she be completely consumed by the giggles that threatened to rattle her very bones, the dragon ignored her attempts to quell his misbehavior.

"Oh?" Kaylen glanced up at the dragon, innocent as could be. "Then what else is long and red that's got her giggling like a little schoolgirl?"

Valyrym tilted his head a little, narrowing his golden eyes. That sounded suspiciously like Kaylen was in on the joke. She'd displayed a rather well hidden cleverness the other night, and now the dragon wondered if perhaps Kaylen knew exactly what he was talking about. If that was the case, she seemed as amused by Alia's embarrassment as Valyrym was. Whatever the case, she continued to pick at the fish, licking her fingers and smiling like a dolt.

"You've a lot more cleverness hidden in that little head than you let on, don't you."

Kaylen shrugged and grinned at the dragon. "I like to think so."

Alia slowly pulled her head away from her mouth, taking a few deep breaths. Then she slapped the dragon the foreleg again, a little harder than before. "You behave, you big scaly brat!"

Valyrym yelped though he was hardly in any pain. It was simply the principal of the thing. "What are you yelling at me for? You're the one who was giggling because you couldn't stop thinking of my..." He flicked his gaze to Kaylen, wondering if she really knew or if it just seemed that way.

Oh, she knew. "Were you thinking of the dragon's penis, Alia?"

Alia gasped, and went as red as the organ in question. For a moment, she looked horrified, her eyes bulging, mouth agape. And then Valyrym burst out laughing so hard the old dragon nearly toppled over. Kaylen started laughing as well, and soon Alia was doing everything she could to glare at the two of them at once. She cocked her head back and forth in a way that made her look like a curious bird, and that only made the other two laugh even harder. She couldn't decide who was more deserving of her anger, and so she just took it out on Valyrym.

"You shut up!" Alia said, smacking the dragon on his scaly haunches. "It's not funny!"

"Oh, but it is!" Valyrym only laughed harder. "You should have seen the look on your face when your friend said dragon's penis! I thought your poor eyes were going to pop right out of your sockets and you'd have to go chase them around, feeling about on your hands and knees."

Alia huffed, folding her arms under her breasts and glaring at Valyrym a moment longer. Then she glanced over at Kaylen. "I can't believe you said that."

"Well, I wasn't sure at first." Kaylen dropped a pile of fish bones back on the platter and dusted off her hands, grinning. "But then I thought, what could have her giggling so much, that the dragon might describe as long and red?"

"I'm just impressed you know what color it is," Valyrym said, his rumbling laugh still echoing around the chamber.

"I didn't," Kaylen said, shrugging. Her grin only grew wider. "It was the fact you called it long that clued me in. What male in the world wouldn't call his own member long? Usually the longer they claim it is, the smaller it is in reality."

"It's the same for Valyrym," Alia snapped, punching the dragon on his scaly haunch once again.

"It most certainly is not," the dragon said, hissing in protest.

"I'm actually more curious about how Alia would know, then how big it actually is," Kaylen said, her giggle a bubbling sound.

"He gets erections in the tub," Alia snapped as much to embarrass the dragon as to actually explain anything. Though she hardly wished to go around telling people just what she did with the dragon in private, if there was anyone who would not only keep it to herself but not judge her for it, it was Kaylen. Then again, the more Alia heard of her people's old lands from Valyrym, the more she realized there was a time when few of them would have cared what she did with a dragon. "One moment I'm helping him to bathe his back where he can't reach, and the next there's a red dagger jutting out under his belly!"

Valyrym snapped his jaws at Alia, glaring. "And the next moment, you're bathing that instead!"

"And the moment after that," Alia shot right back at him, her hands balled up into fists. "And I'm remarking on what a tiny little stiletto it really is!"

Kaylen was laughing harder and harder with each verbal shot the dragon and woman fired at each other. Stiletto was almost too much, and she couldn't help adding in. "Oh, is it all curvy and wavy like some of those little assassins' daggers?"

"Certainly not!" Valyrym whipped his head around to glare at the woman. "It is not little, and it is not curvy. It has a lovely arch, and it is quite large! In fact, it's not a dagger, it's a scimitar!"

"Actually, it's a morning star," Alia remarked, starting to laugh again. "It's all swollen at the end and covered with spikes."

That made Kaylen laugh so hard she toppled over onto her side atop the stone ledge. For a moment all she could do was laugh and clutch her suddenly aching ribs. "Oh! Stop, stop! I can't even breathe any more!"

Valyrym stared down at his own sheath a moment as if imagining his tool in such a way. "Now that does sound like something to see." He smirked at Alia. "Perhaps we should have a little fun later, and let your friend watch. Show her what it really looks like."

"I think we've let Kaylen in on enough of your little secrets," Alia said, trying to smooth out her dress as she moved to her knees for a moment. Then she shook her finger at the dragon's gray-marked muzzle, glaring at him. "Now you behave yourself, or I'm going to have to buy myself a paddle and give you a serious spanking."

"Oh," the dragon said with mock reverence. "By all means, Mistress. Just tell me when to present my haunches." He tossed his head, clicking his teeth. "That would be the day."

"Present them at once, dragon!" Alia put as much fire in her voice as she could without falling back into giggles.

Valyrym pulled his head back, his neck curling into an S-shape. His golden eyes were narrowed to thin slits, faintly shining in the gloom of the dungeon. Alia glared right back at him, and a smirk tugged at the corners of Valyrym's muzzle. He slowly rose to his feet, and turned around, making sure to swing his tail just above Alia's head. Much to his dismay, she didn't flinch at all. Now that she knew he would never do anything to hurt her, it was going to be far more difficult to intimidate her. Or her friends, for that matter.

Soon Valyrym stood with his haunches presented to the two woman, his spined tail slightly raised. "Well? Now what?"

"Now you're going to stand there like that while my friend and I make snide remarks about you."

"Such as?" The dragon turned his head to gaze back at them around his body, grinning.

"He's quite a pair of balls, hasn't he," Kaylen said with a little giggle as her eyes settled on the plump black jewels hanging between Valyrym's hind legs.

"Such as that," Alia giggled as well.

"Hardly snide." Valyrym rustled his wings a bit. "More of a compliment, really."

"Good point," Alia said. "Try something like this Kaylen." She leaned over to whisper into her friends ear.

Kaylen nodded, grinning. "He certainly is eager to present himself. I can't tell if he's more desperate to have female eyes roaming his body, or if he's just that excited to be paddled."

"Hey!" Valyrym snapped his jaws. "It is neither of those things! And no fair helping." He started to lower his tail, about to turn around.

Alia put her hand against his tail, grinning. "Tail up, Dragon! You get a paddling for your misbehavior."

Valyrym huffed, tossing his head again. "As if you've got anything to paddle me with besides your hands, anyway. Go on then, give me your worst." Then he blinked and quickly amended himself. "But leave my balls out of it!"

"You'd be lucky," Alia giggled, though she had something else in mind.

Alia scooped up the tray, now divested of its fishy cargo. She swiftly dumped all the bones onto a neat little pile before Valyrym could figure out what she was up to. Then Alia quickly rose to her feet, and swung the wooden tray sharply against the dragon's rump. The wooden platter impacted Valyrym's haunches with a rather loud clap! Valyrym yelped in pained surprise, so startled he jumped enough for all four paws to leave the ground a moment.

"OW!" The dragon yowled, then hissed at them, glaring back. "That hurt!"

In lieu of reply, Alia simply walloped the dragon on the rump once more with the tray, this time even harder than before. Valyrym yelped again, stumbling for a second, glaring at the two of them over his wings. "That hurts! Cut it out!"

"I think I heard some scales crack, that time," Alia remarked casually to Kaylen.

Kaylen rose to her own feet, folding her arms as if coldly observing some wicked beast's punishment. "He complains a lot, but I don't see him lowering his tail or turning back around."

Valyrym snarled and flared out his spines at that comment. "That's only because I was planning to do this!"

The dragon took a few steps forward out of range, and quickly coiled his long tail around Alia. She gave a startled squeak, holding the platter up over her head. Then she started laughing, wriggling against the grasp of the dragons tail. She managed to toss the platter over to her friend who caught it, and grinned wickedly at the dragon.

"Ooh, it's my turn to spank you, Dragon!"

"Don't you even think about it!" Valyrym hissed, taking a few steps around the large ledge on which they all stood.

"Mind the edge, Valyrym," Alia warned him. "I'm not sure I can descend it stuck in your damn tail without falling flat on my face!" She prodded at one of the spines sticking out near her body. "And watch it with these things."

The dragon ignored her, and began to circle back around towards Kaylen. Kaylen did almost the same thing, walking around the dragon in an attempt to get behind him again. "Shall I paddle his haunches again, Alia?"

"No," Alia said, slapping the dragon's tail. "Get him right in the balls, this time!"

"Oh, even better!" Kaylan giggled to herself, threateningly swatting the tray against her hand as though demonstrating an oversized paddle. "Right in the balls, then!"

"Oh no," Valyrym snarled, whirling around to face Kaylen fast enough to make Alia squeal a little. "No one's getting me in the balls but Alia!"

Alia burst out laughing behind him, and he glanced back at her over his gray edged wings. "That's not what I meant!" He snorted, and turned his eyes back to Kaylen, circling her again. "What I meant is, only she is allowed to get away with it!"

"Oh, so you're going to let her get go so that she can hit you there?" Kaylen grinned, darting sideways to try and get around the dragon. "That seems fair!"

"It's not fair to my balls!" The dragon said, though Valyrym was soon laughing. Sore rump or not, he was having fun. The last time he'd gotten this playful with anyone...well, he had long since lost count of those years. Certainly before Amaleen's death. The thought gave Valyrym a sudden image, a memory of Amaleen chasing him around her backyard, threatening him with a snowball while Kylaryn encouraged her to aim for his testicles. That only made him laugh harder as he began to trot around in circles atop the ledge, Alia laughing behind him.

"Slow down, Lizard!" Alia cried out. "I'm gonna trip"

"Then call off your friend," Valyrym replied. He turned just a little, lifted a hind paw and pushed it out against Kaylen, shoving her hard enough to send her stumbling back but not enough to send her toppling over. "Truce, Truce!"

"I'll call her off if you take back what you said!"

Valyrym twisted around, darting away from a laughing, red-faced Kaylen once more. "But I don't remember what I said!"

"Then take back everything!" Alia grasped one of the dragon's tail spines and tugged it back and forth, trying to loosen his grip around her. Even during his story, Alia had scarcely realized just how prehensile his tail could be till it was wrapped around her.

"Stop that," Valyrym snapped at her, curling his tail tighter. "Those things are anchored to me!"

"Last chance dragon!" Alia laughed, still yanking at the spine. "Take it back, or my assistant lodges her boot in your testicles!"

"I'm not wearing boots," Kaylen said, pausing to peer down at her rather plain looking servant's shoes. "And I thought I was supposed to use the tray?"

"You're missing the point, Kaylen!" Alia called out to her, shifting her tactics. She tried to grab at the end of Valyrym's tail to unwind it from her body.

"I'm sensing disorganization among your ranks," the dragon said, spinning around once more, careful not to yank Alia about too sharply. "Attack!"

Kaylen squealed as the dragon charged right at her. She backpedaled but before she could get away Valyrym was upon her. He pressed his paw to her shoulder and shoved her to the floor, though he was gentle enough not to hurt her. Then he pushed the same paw against her chest to hold her to the floor, using his tail to keep Alia at a safe distance. Kaylen went to swing the tray down onto Valyrym's soft looking nose, but Valyrym was prepared. In an instant he'd snapped his teeth into the tray, then jerked his head to the side. The makeshift paddle was yanked from Kaylen's hands and tossed off the ledge. It clattered against the stone floor as it skidded away.

"There," Valyrym said. "Now, we negotiate our truce."

"Never surrender!" Kaylen said, giggling and wiggling beneath the dragon's paw. She lashed out with her few a shoe times, playfully trying to get the dragon in the balls with it, though he kept himself well out of range. "Damn, Alia, I can't reach the chink in his armor!"

"No, you can't," Valyrym smirked with a purr. "What you may not realize is I have played games like this with humans before."

From behind the dragon, Alia started laughing again. "You pinned Amaleen and she kicked you in the balls, didn't she."

Valyrym winced, a sheepish grin spread over his muzzle. "Quite forcefully." He glanced back at Alia, mischievousness shining in his golden eyes. "Took me about three attempts to find the best way to pin a human down safely. The key is not to stand directly over their feet."

"That seems like it should be pretty obvious, actually," Alia grinned, stroking the dragon's tail.

"Yes, well." Valyrym snorted and licked his nose, grinning down at the other woman pinned under his paw. "You try pinning down a wriggling human woman while nearby a dragoness is yelling get him in the balls, get him in the balls!" He winced again, then gave Alia another sheepish look alongside his body. "They didn't have to cheer when she finally got me, though. That was uncalled for!"

"Oh?" Alia tilted her head, her blue ribbon-wrapped ponytail falling over her shoulder. "I was going to cheer if Kaylen got you."

"I'd be disappointed if you didn't," Valyrym admitted, grinning. "Now, my bargaining terms. You two cease your quest to slay my un-sired hatchlings, and I shall let you take a victory lap..."

"That doesn't sound like a very good deal," Kaylen said, trying to pry the dragon's fingers off of her body.

"...Upon my back," the dragon finished.

"Ooooh!" Kaylen's eyes went wide. "I accept!"

Valyrym smiled. In truth, the reward was hardly meant for Kaylen, but that was alright. He meant to offer Alia a chance to ride on his back, but he didn't want the other woman to end up left out. Assuming, of course, that such an offer meant as much to Alia as he was hoping it would. Judging from the brilliant smile stretched across her ruby lips and the excited joy dancing about in her green eyes, it did.

"I'd love to ride upon your back, Valyrym," Alia said as the dragon slowly uncurled his tail from her. She quickly walked around in front of him, and hugged his neck. She kissed his scales a little bit. "I've been hoping you'd offer, because I was afraid I'd insult you if I asked."

Valyrym laughed, and lowered his head to nuzzle her cheek, then lick her. "At this point in our friendship, Alia, there is very little you could do to insult me without working extremely hard towards that end."

"While it's touching to see my best friend all lovey-dovey with a wicked old dragon who's not so wicked after all..." Kaylen said, squirming beneath Valyrym's paw. "It would be a lot more touching if you'd let me the hell up!"

"Oh. Right. You." Valyrym smirked down at her a moment. "I suppose I could let you up. If I must."

"Unless you want me to go back to trying to whack you in the balls!" Kaylen harrumphed and glared up at the dragon.

"Not something I have to worry about if I don't let you up..."

Alia giggled and grabbed the dragon's ear. She twisted it a little till he yelped. "Just let her up, you scaly old bastard."

"I am not a bastard," Valyrym muttered, but he lifted his paw to let Kaylen wriggle free.

Once Kaylen squirmed her way out from under the dragons grasp, she pushed herself back to her feet, and dusted off her black and white dress. Soon she was giggling again and bouncing about on the balls of her feet. "Oh, that was so much fun! I'd never have guessed dragons could be so...well...playful!"

"There's a lot of things about dragons you wouldn't have guessed," Alia said, speaking Valyrym's mind for him. "A lot of things you should know. The fact that they could be so happy and playful with their friends is just one of many facets to Valyrym's species I've come to understand."

Kaylen smiled at that. She reached out and gently rubbed the dragon's nose the way she'd seen Alia doing. "I wasn't really going to hit you in the balls, Dragon."

Valyrym smirked under her hand. "Liar. For future reference, should Alia goad you into hitting me there, I shall expect either one or both of you to make it up to me."

Alia giggled and Kaylen only gave him a wicked grin, still stroking his nose. She chose to ignore his proclamation. "You're quite soft around your nose, aren't you."

Before long, Valyrym was purring for the two women. Kaylen rubbed his nose and Alia caressed the scales of his neck, and Valyrym felt lovely and content and relaxed. It was a strange thing for him. Even in the time since he'd first met Alia he hadn't gotten this overtly playful with her. It was almost as if he'd forgotten how to simply have fun. Not that he could blame himself. But after the mental and emotional toll that telling Alia his story had wrought upon him, perhaps he simply needed the release of playful times with friends. Gods knew he missed his friends. Missed those times with the other dragons, with Amaleen. This was the closest he'd come in a long time, and he intended to savor it as long as he could.

"So dragons often get playful with their friends like this?" Kaylen asked anyone willing to answer.

"We do," Valyrym replied, his eyes half lidded in satisfaction from all the petting. "But we have a reputation to uphold, you see. And outside of my old home in Aran'alia, I rather doubt many humans have ever had a chance to see dragons relaxing and playing with their friends."

"So, does this mean..." Kaylen paused a moment. She bit her lip, and began to rub the dragon under his gray-scaled chin. She smiled at the adorable way the old beast tilted his horned head back while she scratched at his warm, pebbly scales. "...Are we friends now?"

Valyrym turned his head a moment to glare at her through a single golden eye. "Don't ruin it."

"That's a yes," Alia assured her friend, grinning. "Which I'm very glad to hear! You could use a few more friends, Valyrym. I think Thomas would like to be your friend, too. I'd wager even Enric would enjoy your friendship, if you'd offer it."

"Thomas is a stuffy little bootlicker, and Enric is a bossy Illandran with a spear who's too clever for his own good." The dragon closed his eyes, growling.

"Well, I don't know who Enric is," Kaylen said, giggling. "But he's right about Thomas. He is a stuffy little bootlicker."

"Enric is the guard I've put in charge of making sure no one gets down here without my permission," Alia explained, smirking. "Valyrym's just being cranky because he knows Enric is a good man who wants to see the dragon cared for just as well as I do. Valyrym just doesn't like to admit that he needs to be cared for. Or that other people might actually care about him. Like Enric."

"You and Enric can both suck my..."

"So it's settled then!" Alia cut him off. "Thomas and Enric will both be your new friends."

"I'm surprised he wants Enric to suck it for him," Kaylen giggled. "Do you like other human males, Valyrym, or only Enric?"

Valyrym turned his head to glare at Kaylen. "You're on dangerous ground, Woman. I don't recall giving you permission to use my name." When the two women only giggled at him, Valyrym sighed and made a show of hanging his head and letting his spines droop. "I remember back when being a dragon assured you instant respect."

"Been a long time since those days," Alia said, grinning and patting his shoulder.

Valyrym snorted and flared up his spines, lifting his head again. "So it has. Are you two going to ride me, or just stand around teasing me all day?"

"Both." Alia took Kaylen by the hand, and lead her around the side of the dragon. "Now lay down, Val. Is there any trick to climbing upon your back without injuring myself?"

"I'm more worried about being the one who's injured," Valyrym muttered. He slowly eased himself down onto his belly, pushing his front legs out in front of himself like a dog getting comfortable beside his master's table. "Just don't grab my wing joint too tightly. Or my horns, or my ears. Come to think of it, I'm going to keep my head as far out in front of myself as possible."

Alia put her hands on her hips, looking the dragon over. She studied his form, and then smiled. Alia ushered Kaylen out of the way, took a few steps back, and then ran towards the dragon. She vaulted off the ground, stuck a foot against the dragon's shoulder and used the leverage to leap the rest of the way up onto his back. As Alia settled down against him, Valyrym turned his head to peer back at her, golden eyes gleaming and neck spines raised.

"That was quite impressive, actually."

"Yes, it was," Kaylen said in agreement. "Just don't expect me to do the same thing."

Alia grinned, leaning over the dragon's side to offer her hand to Kaylen. The other young woman took it, and between her own efforts to scrabble up the dragon's scaly body, and Alia's own work pulling the woman up, Kaylen soon enough settled against the dragon's back as well. Both women spent a few moments adjusting the skirts of their dresses best they could to get comfortable without ripping the fabric.

"Having trouble?" The dragon said, smirking back at them. "When I took Amaleen flying, she used to wear breeches."

"Figures you invite me to ride you the one time I'm wearing a dress," Alia muttered, hiking it up a little bit.

"Was hoping you'd have to take it off, actually," the dragon purred, his smirk growing wider.

"What a naughty beast your dragon is," Kaylen said, giggling to herself.

"Yes, he's quite the legend in his own mind," Alia said, patting the dragon's neck once she was settled best she could.

"You can both ride me naked, if you wish," Valyrym said as he carefully started forward.

"You'd be so lucky," Kaylen said, slapping his wing joint.

"Ow," the dragon snapped, glancing back. "Our wing joints are tender, you know."

"Good. Then I'll do it again." Kaylen did just that, making the dragon yelp a second time. Then with a smirk of her own, she shook her finger at the dragon. "You're going to have to get to know me a lot better first if you expect me to get naked for you."

"Ah," the dragon said, stepping down off the ledge. He did so as carefully as he could to avoid jarring either of the ladies riding on his back too much. The jolt was still enough to make Kaylen squeak and wrap her arms around Alia's middle. After stepping down, the dragon added, "So I will get to see you naked in the future, then. Good to know."

"That is not what I said," Kaylen said with a little gasp, though she was soon giggling to Alia.

"You'll get used to him actually," Alia assured her, giggling right back.

"I've a wit like a razor," Valyrym said as he began to walk along the wall of his prison.

"A dull razor," Alia said right back.

"Better a dull wit than a half-wit," Valyrym said, flicking his tail spines against the floor.

"Yes, the only thing you've a half portion of is modesty," Alia giggled.

"Modesty is for those without any outstanding traits of which to be proud," the dragon informed her, grinning back at the two women. "How's the ride?"

"Wonderful," Alia breathed softly, gently stroking the dragon's neck.

Wonderful scarcely defined it. Alia had ridden horses before, and always enjoyed it. But this was nothing like that. Riding a dragon felt almost indescribably powerful. She could feel the beast's muscles rippling beneath her body, he bore her with casual ease even after all his long years in the dungeon. But more than the sheer power and grace of the beast beneath her, riding Valyrym lifted Alia's heart to the skies even as his wings were trapped beneath the stony ceiling.

Alia now knew what it meant to a dragon to let a human ride upon them. In all his young years, Valyrym had let only a handful of humans ride upon his back. From Lenira, the woman who found his heart, to Amaleen, the one who opened it wide, to the man who taught Amaleen to heal and all those dying soldiers he simply wished to give hope to. For a dragon, allowing a human to ride upon their back was a personal, emotional experience. It was an act and an experience they so rarely shared. And yet he had offered it so openly to Alia, and to her friend as well.

There was still so much goodness and love in Valyrym, if only it came to the surface more often. There was light in him enough to banish the darkness that had wrapped itself around his heart for decades, if he would but let it shine. One way or another, Alia was determined to get that light to shine as brightly as it had in his happiest days. After so many years in the darkness, it was time for Valyrym to live in the light again.

As he walked around, Valyrym's mind drifted a little while as well. Despite how often he'd once ferried Amaleen around upon his back, he was a little surprised by just how familiar the weight of a human against him felt. He had not carried a single human since the day he buried Amaleen. It was simply not something he'd ever expected to do again.

Even now, it wasn't something he'd planned or thought might happen. It just came to him, in the spur of the moment, that perhaps Alia would like to ride him. And as Kaylen was there, perhaps she would like to ride him as well. After all, though he was hesitant to admit it, he was starting to realize the other woman was also becoming his friend. There was a time that draconic pride would have dictated he let no one ride him save perhaps Alia. Even back in Sigil Stones, no one rode him around town but Amaleen.

Yet where had pride lead him?

In truth, there was little pride left in Valyrym anyway. All that infamous draconic pride had long since been shattered by time, guilt, and loneliness. But Alia...Alia reminded him of who he'd once been. Alia's concern for him and seeming awe at his very presence was slowly restoring that same pride in himself. Alia reminded him that once, people had feared him. Once, people had loved him. Once, very long ago, there was far more to Valyrym then a bitter old monster trapped for the rest of his life in a stone tomb beneath the earth.

Once, there was The Dread Sky, protector of Aran'alia.

Without realizing it. Valyrym had come to a stop in front of the section of wall where they had bricked him in. Bricked being a relative term given that each separate block was large enough that even Valyrym would have labored to move it. While the girls giggled and cavorted upon his back, Valyrym looked over the carving he'd put there, upon all those blocks.

At the very center of the carving was a four pointed star like a compass in the middle of a circle, the four points touched the circle. Another circle around it, with swooping lines and archers stretching to the very edge of the wall. In some places they seemed to break the outer circle. It was one of several old Aran'alian Sigils Valyrym could have carved in his sleep at this point. Valyrym cocked his head, staring at it. He didn't realize the girls had gone silent until Kaylen spoke up a few moments later.

"Isn't that what you told Thomas was your escape plan?" Kaylen leaned around Alia to peer at the old wall, long since cut with strange lines and shapes.

"Yes," Valyrym said, chuckling. The escape plan was practically an inside joke he shared with himself.

"That's the freedom sigil, isn't it," Alia said softly. She leaned forward, idly stroking the dragon's black-scaled neck.

"Yes," the dragon said again. He was pleasantly surprised Alia recognized it. "I was not sure my description did justice enough to it for you to recognize it upon the wall, here."

"Freedom sigil?" Kaylen sounded a little confused.

Alia pointed out the shapes with her fingers. "That star in the center indicates the four points of the compass, as if on a map. The arching lines indicating following those directions as far as you choose, in any way you choose. And where they look to be rupturing that outer circle? That indicates breaking through constraints. Freedom."

Valyrym twisted his head around on his long neck, narrowing his eyes. "Where'd you get all that? I didn't tell you that bit."

Alia shrugged and laughed. "Just came to me, actually. Looking at the sigil in person, now, it seemed a pretty accurate representation."

The dragon murmured his approval, flicking his tail back and forth. His spines dragged against the stone with a light grating noise. "I like it. You're a wise woman, Alia. Your ancestors would have been proud."

"You would know," Alia giggled.

"Only if they came from Sigil Stones. If they were from one of the other villages I doubt I would have known them." The dragon mused to himself, licking his nose. "Ironic, though. If they were from Sigil Stones I might well have known them. Not that I knew everyone in town...perhaps it would be better to say that they knew me."

"I never heard anything about a dragon from my mother, but that hardly means anything." Alia leaned back against her friend. Kaylen was starting to wish as though she'd heard all the stories from the old dragon too.

"No, I probably would have been long locked away by the time even your grandparents were born. Given the way things turned out, I was..." Valyrym hesitated a moment, and then laughed bitterly. "Probably not a story many of them liked to tell once the war was over."

Alia leaned forward again to stroke the old dragon's black scaled neck with both hands. "You carved that sigil there for a reason, right? That's why you call it your escape plan?"

"Yes, Alia," Valyrym chuckled a little. "But I lacked the necessary ingredients to make the plan work."

"Ghost stones?"

Valyrym smiled, gazing back at the foremost of his two riders. "Clever girl. Yes, ghost stones. Those, and the blood of the Silver Rain people."

"Alia's a Silverrain," Kaylen spoke up, offering Alia's last name even if she had little clue what they were discussing.

"Not quite the same thing," Valyrym chuckled, though he did give Alia an odd look. "I do recall you mentioning that the other night."

"It's my last name," Alia explained, idly tracing circles against the scales of the dragon's back. "I think my family took that name as a connection to our old homeland, when we left."

"I see," the dragon murmured to himself. "You could still be from any part of Aran'alia, originally. But...who knows?" He smiled a little bit. "Perhaps your mother is from Sigil Stones."

Valyrym smiled, and slowly turned away from the wall to pad across his chamber. The two woman atop him shifted back and forth with the dragons slightly limping gait. As he walked, Valyrym mused aloud. "Ironic, isn't it Alia? All these years later, and an Aran'alian woman ends up my caretaker." Valyrym shook his head, laughing under his breath. "...The winds that carry."

"Do you think...I mean...my blood...?"

Valyrym knew what she meant. "You spent your whole life here, right? Away from the actual silver rain." He glanced back at her, then shook his horned head. "So probably not."

"But it's possible, isn't it?"

"Even if it was, we've no ghost stones, and..." Valyrym came to a stop, and slowly turned his head. "Alia...are you talking about...I mean, are you seriously talking about what I think you're talking about?"

Alia leaned forward as far as she could. She met the dragon's gaze, and soon her green eyes were boring deeply into Valyrym's golden ones. For a moment, Alia looked ready to unshackle the dragon's very soul with her spirit alone.

"I told you, Valyrym. You have suffered enough." Alia let that settle in on the dragon before she turned her eyes towards one of the vents and the cloudy sky beyond it. "The wind that carries has carried me to you, that I might set you free."

---

Chapter Four

The next day dawned bright and clear. The sun rose and banished the clouds, and Alia rose with it. She found herself in an excellent mood. How appropriate, she thought, that she was rising with the sun the day after deciding to set Valyrym free. A smile touched her lips as she stepped out of her bed. That smile remained there as she bathed, dressed and even as she ate breakfast. Thomas shared breakfast with her that morning and seemed quite confounded about why she was so happy. She hadn't yet let him in on her little idea the way she had Kaylen. It wasn't that she didn't trust Thomas, she just didn't feel like listening to him questioning the rationality of her decision.

Not that she yet had any idea how she was going to free the dragon. She had several ideas in mind, though Alia knew it was in fact quite possible she would never be able to set Valyrym free. But that would not stop her from trying. Nor would it stop her from feeling so joyous about the prospect. She hoped that joy was mirrored in Valyrym. In truth she couldn't be sure. When she told him, he'd laughed quite hard. It seemed a very happy laugh, as if the dragon was overjoyed just to have someone who cared enough about him to want to set him free. Though, she did not think Valyrym believed her capable. Or, perhaps he just did not believe himself deserving of freedom.

Alia and Kaylen had discussed the dragon's freedom quite a bit as they rode about on his back. In fact the talk lingered late into the evening. When they'd finished riding Valyrym around, Alia decided that it was time to remove the old dragon's stitches. She had Kaylen work as her healer's assistant. To help distract Valyrym from the discomfort of having his stitches pulled out and his scars rinsed with harsh cleansing spirits she kept him talking about what he'd do if set free. There was a lot of talk of burning things and eating people, but between the laughter Alia could see the dragon giving it serious thought. He tried to tell her he did not deserve such joy, yet Alia could see the hope gleaming in his eyes now and then.

Whatever the case, she wasn't going to tell Thomas about her idea to free the dragon just yet. But she did offer Thomas a position as her assistant, and he was as quick to accept it as Kaylen. Alia knew Thomas would make a good friend for Valyrym as well, and as far as she was concerned the more friends the old dragon had the better his life would be. Thomas, like Kaylen, would officially start his new position in a day or two. Alia had a few things to take care of first to make it official. She had to go and talk to the Servant Master and inform him that she was hiring her two friends away. Then she had to have contracts drawn up and inform the local treasury officer who handled payments. With any luck they'd be paid through the Warden's Office. If not, she'd just pay them a portion of her own salary. After all she already had more money than she ever thought she'd need.

Alia also fully intended to ensure that Enric became the old beast's friend, as well. Given that the guard's primary responsibility was now to protect the dragon from people rather than the other way around, Alia thought it reasonable he spend plenty of time down in the dungeon himself. When Enric sought her out to her to ask if the dragon was alright, she broached the idea to him. Enric seemed a little unsure the dragon would want one of his guards around that often but Alia brushed his worries aside. She even told him Valyrym considered him to be the most tolerable of all his jailors, and then she assured Enric that was in fact a compliment. For his part, Enric seemed to like the idea and even suggested perhaps he could teach the dragon to play a game of cards or dice to pass the time.

While she spoke with Enric, she also told him of her plan to hire Thomas and Kaylen as her personal assistants. She amended her standing order to allow both Thomas and Kaylen admittance to the dragon's dungeon as freely as she herself came and went. Enric was quite supportive of her idea and promised to pass on the new orders to the other guards. He also informed her that he'd taken the initiative and moved certain guards to duties in other parts of the castle. Enric didn't say why, and Alia didn't ask, but it seemed easy to assume they were the sort of guards more likely to try and cause trouble for Valyrym.

Alia also considered asking about Lord Armadine, the noble she'd beaten the other day, but decided to set that matter aside for now. She had plenty of other things to do, and did not wish to sully her good spirits. With matters of admittance attended, she bid Enric farewell and went about her next task.

Dealing with the Servant Master was a little bit more of an annoyance than she wished it to be. Servant Master Kesh was an older man, with a face scrunched in a permanent scowl that looked as badly weathered as the outer walls of the castle. He had fraying gray hair that somehow managed to sag limply over some parts of his head and stand at frizzy attention across others. Rheumy eyes peered at the women seated across his neatly ordered desk, and he grumbled and muttered about quotas and duties to be done and empty spaces to be filled. The old brown robe he wore clashed with the fanciful adornments and stationary upon his desk.

His inkwell was carved from ivory or perhaps exotic bone. Alia hoped it hadn't come from some poor dragon. While Alia couldn't be sure, the quill he kept dipping in the fancy inkwell seemed to have been made from a large black gryphon's feather. Certainly it seemed too large a feather for any traditional bird she knew of. A tiny, silver replica of Illandra's five towered keep served as an expensive paper weight.

Alia found herself sitting in an uncomfortable, stiff chair. The wood was hard and unyielding, the back not high enough to offer her any support, but plenty high to dig into her spine. A quick glance at the man seated across from her confirmed that his chair was quite the opposite. High backed, the dark wood carved with intricate, knotted designs and adorned with very plush blue cushions. Alia couldn't help but notice the discrepancy between the two chairs, and wondered if that had anything to do with the fact that most of his visitors were likely the servants he employed. Easier to loom over them if they were squirming around in discomfort.

Alia flicked her eyes around the place as she waited for the older man to give her his full attention. The walls were covered with bookshelves positively overflowing with books. Many of which looked to be following apart on the shelves. Pages and leafs of parchment stuck out here and there. Others had already fluttered to the floor, carpeting it like dead leaves in autumn. A few more valuable trinkets sat upon isolated shelves. A set of something that looked suspiciously like the claws of a dragon were displayed upon one shelf. A bowl carved in ebony sat upon another. The whole room smelled odd. Alia couldn't decide if the musty scent was the aroma of so much slowly moldering vellum, or if it was emanating from the old man himself.

"Going to be difficult to get everything done around here, missing two servants," the Servant Master muttered to himself, scribbling something down upon some parchment. He licked the tip of his quill, a hint of ink marking his pink tongue. "Must you take them both?"

"Yes, I'm afraid I must," Alia replied, as polite as could be. Her eyes fixed on the black mark on his tongue a moment as he left it protruding past his thin lips. That ink must taste awful, didn't he notice? "But if that leaves the remaining servant core overstretched, might I suggest hiring two more servants?"

"You can't just hire two servants," the old man snapped, irritably waving his gryphon-feather quill about in the air. He dunked it into the ivory inkwell, and went back to scrabbling down marks in his ledger.

Alia resisted the urge to tell him that perhaps if he bought himself less exotic stationary, he'd be able to afford more servants. "If you'd like, I can find two servants for you. Or better yet, I could help you hire a half dozen or so. That way you'd be assured of getting everything done on a daily basis, and you'd put even more good people to work."

That suggestion only made the old man scowl even more. He settled against the blue cushion that ran up the length of the high back of his mahogany chair. He shifted a bit in his brown robe. Alia wondered if he told himself that the simplistic and inexpensive nature of a brown woolen robe made up for spending so much money on everything else. Or maybe he was just liked to look as though he was a reasonable spender outside of his office.

"You can't just go around hiring those people," the old man finally said with an irritable sigh. "There's a screening process, interviews, security checks..."

Alia pursed her lips together, fighting to remain polite. The old man seemed to conveniently forget that Alia herself was one of "those people." She stared at him a moment, shifting against the uncomfortable seat. Though she might be squirming the same way he liked to see his employees wriggle, Alia certainly hoped she presented a more formal and confident air than the average nervous servant.

Alia was dressed in one of her most formal outfits, one she'd recently had put together. She wore a simple slate gray blouse with stripes of indigo and ebony that ran around the cuff of each sleeve. Across each shoulder, she bore the golden emblem of the Illandran Warden's Office. She paired the shirt with breeches that were a darker gray tone, but not quite black. Blue threading ran down the seams of the breeches, which cascaded over the top of her new pair of black leather boots. Several pouches along with her knife were secured to a dark leather belt carefully carved across its surface to resemble a serpent's scales. Casually as she could, she turned a bit to ensure that the Warden's Office emblem was clearly visible to the older man.

"With all due respect, Servant Master," Alia said, her voice smooth and smug as a cat's purr. "I can assure you from personal experience that must of those people are only looking for a better life. Better pay, a better place to live, and a chance to eat three full meals a day. Any one of them will work their fingers to the bone for you." She glared at him a moment, her voice hardening just a little. "As you are well aware, having already worked the current servants as hard as possible. And I should think that the Guard Corps would be insulted to hear that you have so little faith in their ability to deal with the clearly immense security threat presented by a few hungry Aran'alians."

For a moment, the older Servant Master looked as though he were ready to spit a retort at her as swiftly as he no doubt spit out food that wasn't cooked to his exact specifications. Come to think of it, perhaps that robe was just to hide his growing paunch. Sitting here at his desk, belittling her people even as he bossed them around, growing fat on the fruits of their labor. Alia balled her hands up into her fists against her knees a moment, scrunching up her dark gray breeches. She took a breath, and let it out slowly. As she relaxed, so did the Servant Master.

Perhaps he'd just realized the woman addressing him was the same women who'd sent Lord Armadine to the infirmary just the other day. Whatever the case, he relented. He stuck his gryphon-feather quill into the ivory inkpot, and folded his liver-spotted hands across his belly. He appraised Alia for a moment, and then attempted to explain his side of things, rather than just spout the same bigoted nonsense he might spout to others.

"It's just that...well, protocol demands that every new servant be interviewed extensively." He licked his thin lips a moment. "We are, after all, letting them into the inner most sanctum in all of Illandra. We have to know who are employing. You yourself were interviewed when you first came here, where you not?"

"I was," Alia said with a little nod. "And I was later told that I, along with my friends, attained very high scores." She chuckled a little to herself at the very idea of being scored on such an interview. It was as if their attempts to better their lives were a game to the Illandrans. "But I certainly do not recall hearing any such nonsense about a security check."

The old man sighed, and leaned forward. He put his arms across his desk, stretched his surprisingly long neck out until Alia could nearly feel his hot and no doubt quite unpleasant breath washing across her body. For a moment he just stared at her, long enough for her to start growing a little uncomfortable. Soon, he swept a hand across his desk, pushing all his stately belongings to the side.

"You've made it, haven't you?"

"What do you mean?" Alia pulled back a little, confused.

"I mean..." He drummed his fingers against the spot he'd cleared atop his desk. "You've ascended. You've risen above the mire in which your people crawl and you've made something better of yourself."

"I'm not sure I like your implication." Alia leaned forward a little to match the older man, narrowing her brilliant green eyes.

Kesh relented a little bit, shaking his head, rogue strands of gray hair tossed about. "I meant no insult. My point is that I can trust you more than I feel I can trust the average unknown Aran'alian."

"And why can't you trust the average Aran'alian?" Alia hissed through increasingly grit teeth.

The Servant Master lowered his voice to a barely audible whisper. "Because, there are spies among them these days."

"Spies?" Alia blinked, settling back into her uncomfortable chair again. "What are you talking about?"

The old man glowered at her a moment. "You did not hear this from me, alright? I'm only telling you this because your actions are forcing me to hire more labor."

Alia didn't like the way the old man made it seem as though she was some kind of villain just for getting her friends better jobs. But she let it pass because she wanted to know just what he was talking about. Alia watched as he pulled a key from a pouch around his belt, then used the key to unlock a small drawer on the other side of his desk. From the drawer he produced a leather bound folder wrapped with dark twine. He opened it, produced a single sheet of parchment, and lay it on the desk. Then he pushed it towards Alia.

"Have a glance at that, but a glance is all you're getting." Kesh kept his fingertips pressed to the parchment to prevent Alia from taking, as if he feared she'd snatch it and run away. "And remember..."

"Yes, yes," Alia muttered, irritably waving her hand. "I didn't hear it from you."

Alia turned her attention down to the parchment. From a quick glance, she saw that it was some kind of military intelligence report. Something about an investigation commissioned by the High Generals, and the Master Of Royal Security on behalf of Her Majesty, The Queen. Sounded to Alia like a fancy way of looking for trouble that they could later claim was the Queen's idea. It all seemed well over her head and totally unconnected to her or her people. Nonetheless, she began to scan the page anyway.

Soon, a few items here and there caught her attention.

...Indications are that numbers of Aran'alian rebels have surged in the past decade.

...Concentrations of rebels both in former Aran'alia and surrounding lands.

...Isolated attacks continue to persist against Illandran interests, and in some areas have increased in frequency.

Alia had to fight to keep from smiling. Somehow, she felt an odd sort of pride knowing that at least a few of her people had never quite given up the fight against Illandra. Yet she was conflicted. Part of her felt as though she should not be happy about that. After all, Illandra was the only home she'd never known. She'd reached a measure of success here. Still, she could not deny that measure of pride. She was sure Valyrym would be happy to know that somewhere out there, someone was still fighting for his old home.

...We see further indications that Aran'alian rebels continue to re-infiltrate refugee ranks throughout Illandra.

...Despite purging of spies and rebels in the years after annexation, recent surges in refugee numbers has made it difficult to ensure rebel cells are not among them.

...Extreme Caution is advised when dealing with unknown persons among the foreign ranks until the matter is resolved.

Alia sighed and rubbed her forehead. In a way, she felt that all this was going to do was make life even harder for her people. She was about to pass the parchment back to the Servant Master when something else caught her eye.

...Reports of dragon sightings continue...

Just then, Kesh began to pull the parchment back. "Well, you get the idea."

Alia grabbed it tightly, hissing through her teeth. "One moment, please."

Kesh looked nervous. He did not release his grip upon it, but he gave Alia a moment to read a little more. Her green eyes swiftly flicked back and forth as she read through the paragraphs that mentioned the dragon.

In a possibly related matter, reports of dragon sightings continue in lands known to be sympathetic to Aran'alian rebels, as well as lands outside Illandra's influence. The Aran'alian rebels were well known for their use of dragons in battle. Reports in some cases are credible. In one documented rebel attack, contact was lost with a convoy of soldiers passing through an annexed province. The soldiers were later found slain, the wagons and cargo burned although no hard evidence of dragon involvement was discovered.

Less credible reports include sightings of dragons in the sky above Illandra, and even the capital itself. Such sightings are considered not credible. Rarely a year passes without someone "seeing" a dragon during the Dragon Festival. This year as before, they are almost always reported at night. Someone, usually a drunkard or an Aran'alian, claims to have seen a dragon shaped silhouette circling far above the city, visible only against the stars. No real evidence of any dragon inside Illandra aside from The Prisoner has ever come forth, nor have any credible sightings. Only in light of potentially increased Aran'alian rebel numbers inside Illandra should these sightings be viewed with anything beyond the utmost skepticism.

With regards to The Black Bird...

As the document veered away from the sightings of dragons, it clicked in Alia's head that this was not the sort of document she'd expect a Servant Master to be in possession of. She slowly lifted her eyes from the parchment, glaring at him in suspicion. "Where did you get this?"

Kesh yanked it away before she could read any further and neatly tucked it back into the folder. "I have my sources." He put the folder back in the drawer, and locked it up once more. "If you must know, I was cautioned against hiring any new servants without extensive background checks, and when I pushed for a reason, I was stonewalled. I pulled a few strings I've had my fingers wrapped around for a decade or so, and was eventually given that. Now, I've shared it with you in confidence, and I hope that confidence shall be returned."

"It shall," Alia said, rising swiftly to her feet.

Perhaps the old bastard wasn't as bad as she thought he was. Or perhaps he was just trying to cover his own ass. Whatever the case, her business with him was concluded. She reached to the serpent-scale patterned belt around her waist, and removed a pouch full of coins. She'd intended to use it in town, but changed her mind. She could dip into her recently increasing savings for that. She tossed the pouch onto the Servant Master's desk where it landed with a satisfying jingle.

"That's for your trouble," Alia snorted, turning on her heel to walk out of his office. She called back to him. "Hire yourself some new servants. And buy yourself a new robe."

Alia allowed herself a little smile as she left the Servant Master's office. She closed his heavy door behind her, it squeaked against the slightly bent frame. Her boot falls were padded against the soft, red carpeting that lined the hall leading to his office. As she made her way back towards her own room to fetch some more funds for her trip into town, she could not help thinking about what she had just read. In all likelihood, it was all unrelated. The dragons sighted were surely not those Valyrym once knew, and it was likely they were not even helping the rebels. And most likely, there were no real dragons sighted above Illandra.

And yet, despite what common sense told her, Alia's heart felt differently.

Alia's heart knew. It knew that somewhere out there, Death In The Night yet lived.

---

Chapter Five

Alia watched the skies as she strode through the streets of Illandra. After what she'd read earlier that morning, she half expected to see a dragon flying about, just above the range of any arrows or ballista. It was a fanciful idea, but it made her smile nonetheless. And in truth, it did not seem so far fetched as it would have before Valyrym had told her about his life.

Alia allowed herself to enjoy the idea that a dragon was circling above. She imagined it for a little while, envisioning wings stretched out against the blue sky. Perhaps it was even one of Val's friends or family members come to visit him. Wouldn't that be lovely. And what a magnificent sight a dragon would make, drifting lazily in the skies above, bathed in sunlight. It was a sight Alia fervently hoped to see one day. She wanted to see Valyrym rise upon his own wings once more.

It was a shame that Illandra could not see dragons as more than monsters. It was lovely to imagine them wheeling about in the skies here, as they'd once down in Aran'alia. Wherever they had gone, wherever dragons remained free, Alia hoped that they had come to be friends with the humans there. Surely, there had to be a few other places in the many realms of the world where dragons could live without being hunted. Alia would love to get to see them flying.

Living in Illandra nearly her entire life, Alia had never seen anything even close. She envied those who had. Listening to Valyrym spin tales of his youth and the far away world in which he'd lived had awakened something Alia scarcely knew was there. It had brought about pride in her homeland, and a desire to see beyond the tall stone walls of the rich and the ramshackle slums of the poor that made up so much of Illandra. It was her home for all her life, and yet it suddenly seemed such a bland place. So boring. Worse, there was a coldness to it that she doubted its inhabitants even realized. Alia certainly hadn't realized it until her mind was filled with images of rolling green hills, and spires of jagged stone marked with ancient sigils, and colorful dragons spiraling in the skies.

There was nothing colorful spiraling in the skies above Illandra. And if there was, they'd probably shoot it down. Alia paused and leaned against the cool gray stone that comprised the wall of an old building. The bottom floor of the building held a clothier on one side, and a bakery on the other. The upper two stories housed homes. The ashen walls were pockmarked and weather worn, marked here and there with splotches of green moss. The windows all had bright red shutters, and were open to let the breeze through on a warm day. A wooden walkway covered with a slanted roof painted red to match the shutters spanned the area from the top floor of the building to that of its neighbor. Alia sighed, and stared up at the sky. It was clear, and blue, but the only thing she could see circling above where a few buzzards. Seemed appropriate, somehow.

"The skies have never seemed so cold," she murmured to herself, smiling just a little. Amaleen was onto something. Valyrym had the heart of a poem somewhere inside him, even if he'd never admit it.

Alia spent a few long moments just watching the skies. How she longed to see a dragon circling above. Preferably it would be Valyrym, but right about now she'd settle for any dragon. Perhaps it would even swoop down and set fire to the castle. Wouldn't that be amusing. She laughed to herself a little bit, and shook her head. She hooked a stray tress of black hair behind her ear, her green eyes flicking to a single formless cloud drifting across the sky.

"You there! Girl!" An angry voice snapped Alia back to reality. A stern looking woman in a green and gold dress was leaning out of the clothier, glaring at Alia. Dark eyes flashed beneath lighter hair, her pale cheeks were ruddy with irritation. Or perhaps drink. "What do you think you're doing, leaning against my wall like that."

"I'm watching the skies," Alia said, gesturing towards the single cloud. "Imagining dragons."

"You're what?" The woman blinked, narrowing her eyes. "Are you daft? Or do you people just never grow up? Stop thinking of childish things and get yourself a job. And move away from my wall. I'll not have some ill-bred foreigner scaring away my fine customers."

For a moment, anger flared inside Alia. It flashed in her green eyes brightly enough to cause the woman watching her to duck back inside her doorway a little. Then Alia took a deep breath, calmed herself, and thought of a much more amusing way to handle the situation. Alia calmly slipped away from the wall, and approached the woman, smiling.

The woman backed up further, moving into her shop. "If you try and strike me I shall call for the guards and have you hauled away!"

That only made Alia laugh. "My dear woman, I am the guard." Alia turned herself a little, and tapped one of her Warden's Emblems. "You see, my people and I, as you call us, have come to outrank you. Now..." Alia made a show of turning herself about, examining the woman's wares. "I should like to buy some clothes. You shall be helpful and polite, and you shall accept my coin for your clothing, or..." Alia's grin got even wider. "I shall have you hauled away."

Alia spent the next hour or so being as obnoxious a customer as possible, while frequently reminding the woman that her polite assistance was required. She asked all manner of inane questions, and when the woman didn't have an answer Alia required her to look into the matter. Oh, you don't know if this blouse is made with silk from the Thelnon region? Well, by all means, consult your log books, surely you must know. Would these breeches stand up to an extended bout of dragon riding? Can you suggest an outfit suitable for belittling ignorant racists?

In the end, Alia purchased several garments, some for herself and some for her friends. She had to guess at Kaylen and Thomas' sizes, but she'd done so before with success. She was sure they'd like them either way, and if they didn't the story of their purchase would more than make up for it.

By the time she was done shopping, she was getting a little bit hungry. As she still had business to conduct in the town, Alia decided to return to the castle to put her new clothes away, and have lunch with Valyrym. On the way back she stopped at a small but popular stall hawking all manner of meat pies. She bought out the vendor's remaining stock, carefully packed them all in a burlap sack he had laying around, and returned home. Soon she was dining with her favorite dragon.

"I still don't know why you humans put so much effort into stuffing something delicious into something so dry and crusty," Valyrym muttered as he devoured his third mutton pie, a few flaky pastry crumbs clinging to the end of his gray marked muzzle.

"Oh go stuff yourself," Alia giggled. "You love those and you know it."

"They are quite delicious," the dragon said, grinning.

While they ate Enric made his way down the stairs and approached them. Alia was pleasantly surprised to see he was not as heavily armored as usual. The guard wore heavy chain mail over a layer of padding atop his gray and blue uniform, with padded breeches wrapped in layers of studded leather. There was no sign of the thicker metal plating he'd worn on certain previous visits. Enric also hadn't bothered to wear his helmet, his short cropped red hair stuck up here and there at a few odd angles above his handsome if roughly worn face. And rather than an assortment of weapons he bore only a single sword strapped at his hip in a leather scabbard with Illandra's five towered keep emblazoned upon it.

"Delivery for you, Ma'am." Enric said, offering a little bow.

Alia glanced up at him, grinning as she wiped crumbs from her mouth. "What sort of delivery?"

Enric idly touched his crooked nose. "A barrel of rum."

"Oh, wonderful!" Alia jumped to her feet, grinning. "Can you fetch it?"

Enric blinked, and turned to gaze back at the long and winding stairwell he'd just descended. "Not without assistance."

"Oh...right." Alia pursed her lips. She hadn't considered that particular aspect of delivering the dragon a barrel of rum. "Do you suppose you and I could handle it together?"

"We could certainly give it a shot," Enric said with a shrug.

"You had better be careful," Valyrym growled, rising to his feet to glare at Enric.

Alia smiled a little at the dragon's protective nature. "Thank you Valyrym, but I'm sure he'll be quite careful."

"I am speaking to both of you." The dragon snorted. "If you spill my rum I shall be quite cross."

Alia smile faded, and she turned to glare at him. "What about me? What if I'm crushed beneath a barrel of rum?"

"Then I shall have to find a replacement girl," Valyrym said, waving a paw in the air. "Besides, from the way I hear you tell it, you Aran'alian girls are ten to a copper in this city. Why, I'm stuck in this dungeon and I've already met two of you."

Alia laughed, shaking her head. "You're an ass, Valyrym."

"Yes, I am," the dragon said, smirking. He glanced at Enric a moment, narrowing his golden eyes. "Lost your helmet, have you?"

Enric ran a hand back over his reddish hair, ruffling it up further. "I hate wearing that thing. Besides, I took a look at those tail spines of yours."

"What about them?" Valyrym glanced back at his own tail, lashing it so that the slightly curved, dark spines clattered against the stone floor.

Enric grinned, resting a hand on the leather wrapped hilt of his sword. "If I had to guess, I'd say those things would punch right through my helmet if you really got it in your head to do me in."

"You would guess correctly," the dragon said, chuckling to himself. He turned around and made a show of lashing his tail in the air, calling back to them as he walked off to get a drink of water. "They have punched through far thicker armor than I have ever seen you wear. Now fetch my damn rum before I've a mind to demonstrate them."

Enric turned back towards the stairs, and as Alia joined him for the ascent, Enric remarked, "I'm starting to like that old bastard."

The barrel of rum turned out to be a bit heavier than Alia expected, but not so heavy that the two of them couldn't carry it about. After all she imagined that burly bartenders had to be able to carry the things around by themselves. The real trouble was the length of the staircase and the way it twisted and turned as it cut ever deeper into the earth. Now and then the two of them had to carefully set the barrel down on a stair, reposition themselves, and then hoist it aloft once more. Once they reached the bottom of the stairs, Alia told Enric they'd store the barrel in the old office near the double doors carved with the image of the dragon in chains.

"If I leave this barrel with Valyrym while I'm out, I'm liable to return home to find him passed out and the barrel emptied," Alia explained. "It was quite expensive so I'd like him to be able to enjoy it on at least a few different occasions, rather than just giving himself liver failure all at once."

When the barrel was safely stowed away in the still messy office, Alia went back to tell Valyrym she'd bring it for him later. Though he seemed disappointed he didn't get to follow up his lunch with half a barrel of rum, he also did not argue Alia's contention that he'd drink the whole damn thing if she wasn't around to prevent it. She stroked the dragon's muzzle a little bit, and told him she'd return that evening. Then she smirked, and told the dragon that Enric would keep him company this afternoon. That was news to Enric, as well.

"Ah, well...hmmm," Enric stuttered a little, before he finally shrugged, grinning sheepishly at the dragon. "You wanna play cards, or something?"

Alia left Valyrym looking both grumpy and befuddled as she made her way out of the dungeon. She returned to her room, and fetched the lovely pack she'd brought shortly after meeting the dragon. The sight of it made her smile. It was a simple but sturdy pack with plenty of room, crafted mostly of black leather with edging and pockets done up in shades of gray. The moment she saw it, it reminded her of Valyrym and she'd cherished the pack ever since. Strapping it onto her back she returned to town.

Once back on the streets of Illandra, Alia set her mind to business. Important business, in fact. The business of buying a whole host of stuffed dragons with which to adorn Val's prison. As far as Alia was concerned, it was about time for Val Junior to have a clan of his own. And if she could find enough she'd buy a second set for Kaylen as well. As the summer Dragon Festival was drawing closer and closer, there were plenty of options to choose from. Just about every street vendor and shop had at least one or two dragon related items for sale, though far too many of them were focused on said dragons captivity or destruction for Alia's liking.

With a little work, Alia began to assemble quite the cotton-stuffed menagerie. She first found a black one that was a little smaller than Val Junior, and lacked the forward-curled ram horns. It even had little golden spots on it here and there. She decided to call that one Little Nary. There were plenty of stuffed green dragons, but Alia decided she wanted the stuffed Korvarak to be just right. She considered purchasing one that was discounted because it was missing one of its little stuffed wings, but decided that would hit too closely to home. The idea was to make Val feel better and remind him of good times, not bad ones.

Finally, she found a toy that resembled Val Junior in almost everyway, aside from the fact that it was a dark forest green color rather than black. Seemed to make the perfect Kor Junior to Alia. No, wait. She'd name it, Cuddly Korvarak. That would sure amuse and irritate Val in the most delightful way.

Alia continued her search. Soon, she selected an extra large red dragon. Though Val hadn't mentioned anything about red dragons, they seemed a popular color. She was going to get that one for Kaylen. She also picked up a second green dragon and another black for dragon for Kaylen as well, each a different size. As she could hardly carry them all in her arms, she began to stuff them down inside her pack.

"Sorry about the cramped quarters," she giggled as she pushed the latest toy down into the others. "Try not to squish each other too badly."

Ignoring the funny look she got from the vendor, she ventured on. It took a little work to seek out a dragon that resembled Voskalar, but eventually she found a small, brownish color stuffed toy. The thing had large, crossed eyes which made Alia laugh. It gave the little toy a befuddled and confused appearance which fit young Vos quite well. The brown fabric that covered the thing was also very soft, almost velvety. So Alia named that little toy Velvet Voskalar.

Somewhat to her annoyance, Alia found it difficult to find a blue dragon. She could have sworn she'd seen some before. Perhaps blue was a popular color that sold swiftly. Alia spent a while searching, but the only blue toys she could find at first were simply too small.

Finally, she spotted a wagon she'd never seen before selling wares down a side street. Alia knew the street well enough, as it lead into the district in which she'd grown up. It was a rather run down area lived in mostly by Aran'alian refugees. She hadn't been down that road in a while, and in truth had no intentions of heading down it today until she spotted the wagon. It looked like the sort of wagon traveling merchants might live in, totally enclosed with glass paned windows and everything. The walls were very colorful, painted with images of brilliant blue skies, rolling green hills and gray spires of stone on one side, and stylized, slashing silver rain on another side.

Alia's heart leapt. She knew at once that wagon was from Aran'alia. Or, at least, the land that used to be Aran'alia. She quickly walked towards it. The windows were open upon one side of the colorful wagon and from the looks of things they were vending food and trinkets from the old lands. Alia had seen such wagons before, it wasn't unheard of for merchants from home to venture to Illandra to try their luck. Such merchants rarely stayed long as the Illandrans were not often interested in their wares and the average Aran'alian often couldn't afford them.

Alia had never paid such wagons heed before, but now she found herself drawn to it. A couple of dark haired boys in ragged clothes were looking at the menu longingly, though it seemed none of them had the coin to afford much more than a biscuit. It mattered little as soon enough the woman inside the wagon passed out a few cookies free of charge. She was happy to give them to the children. They ran off laughing and stuffing their faces.

Alia couldn't help smiling both at the woman's generosity. As she approached, she smiled and waved to the woman inside. The vendor was an older woman, though probably not yet a grandmother. Dark hair framed her bronzed face in lightly curly locks. She reminded Alia immediately of Amaleen, though Alia imagined with all the Illandrans present in her home land, there were probably a lot of half Aran'alian children running around. The woman wore a purple apron over a golden blouse, and happily waved back to Alia.

"Hello, my dear!" The woman's voice held a hint of a musical accent that Alia hadn't heard in some time. It reminded her of her own mother. So many of the Aran'alians she knew here in Illandra had never known the accents and languages of home. "What can I do for you?"

"Oh, I haven't decided yet," Alia said with a laugh. "I'm just surprised to see someone from home out here. It's been a while."

"Oh, we stop by now and then." The woman laughed a little, leaning an elbow on her counter to peer out the window at Alia. "There's quite a few of us who make the rounds to all the big cities and things. I suppose you could say it's in our blood, we just don't like staying in one place too long."

The woman was probably right. Since Alia had become a servant, she hadn't once come back to her old neighborhood. She'd simply been far too busy. Strange as it seemed, now that she was in charge of caring for Valyrym she found herself with more free time to spend in the town than she ever had as a servant. Perhaps it was about time she went and visited her old home.

"Have you ever been?"

Alia tilted her head. "Hmm? Been where?"

"Home, my dear," the woman said with a laugh. "Aran'alia."

Alia shook her head. "No. But it's not there anymore, anyway."

"Oh, but it is," the woman said, smiling. "At least to us." She made a dismissive gesture towards the city beyond Alia. "They can call it whatever they want, but it will always be Aran'alia to us."

"I've heard things are..." Alia trailed off a moment, glancing down. "Quite hard there."

"And they're not quite hard here?" The woman said with a chuckle. "You seem to be the first person from home I've seen here all day with a few coins to her name."

"Point taken," Alia said, chuckling. "I can't imagine you make much profit here, though."

"We scrape by," the woman said. As they spoke she picked up a purplish ribbon and carefully tied it around her dark hair, behind her head. "We make most of our money in other lands and cities, but there's so many of us here, we can't come by this area without stopping for a few weeks. So, see anything you like?"

Alia scanned the menu board for a while. Plenty of things she'd never heard of, truth be told. Lots of pastries and cakes, and some fish dishes she knew little Valar would have loved. The thought made her smile. Then, at the bottom of the menu, she saw something that damn near stopped her heart.

"Silver water," Alia breathed out loud, her throat going dry a moment. Could it be?

"Oh, that," the woman said, laughing and shaking her head. "We like to tell the Illandrans that its full of mystical things and brimming with health benefits." She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "But really, it's just the rain. You see, back home the rain is..."

"Silver," Alia said softly. "I know."

"Do you," the woman pulled her head back, and gave Alia an odd look. "I thought you said you'd never been home?"

"I've heard the stories," Alia said, smiling. "I was born here, but my mother was born in Aran'alia. She used to talk about the silver rain all the time."

It was a lie, of course, but it suited the moment. Alia wasn't sure just how much she wanted to tell this woman. In reality, her mother had never spoke a word of the silver rain itself, or where she'd gotten her last name from. Alia thought it was probably a painful reminder for her of all the things she'd left behind. Perhaps she never really wanted Alia to know just how wonderful their home had been. No sense in leaving the girl longing for something she'd never have.

But thanks to Valyrym, Alia knew all about it. And long for it she did.

"Oh, well isn't that lovely," the woman smiled. "Here, let me get you a glass."

The woman vanished for a moment, and left Alia fumbling for her coin purse. The menu board listed the silver water as costing two pieces of gold, but Alia got the distinct impression that was the "Illandran" price. And that if any Aran'alian asked for it, they'd either get it for a copper or two, or completely free. Nonetheless, when the woman returned Alia set two gold upon the counter.

"Oh, you don't need to pay, my dear," the woman said, offering Alia a glass.

"I insist," Alia said, pushing the coins across to her.

Alia took the glass, and held it up to the sun. The liquid that filled it to the brim shone brilliantly silver in the sunlight. "Gods," Alia murmured to herself. "It really is silver."

"Yes, it is," the woman laughed. "You should see the rains! They're beautiful." Then she added a cautionary tone to her voice, as if trying to ward off disappointment. "It is just water, though, so don't expect it to taste like honey or anything."

Alia smelled the water. Even kept in a barrel, it still smelled like fresh rain. She brought the cup to her lips, and drank deeply. The woman was wrong. At least to Alia, the water tasted like honey and sweet melon. It tasted like home and it sent shivers down Alia's spine. Alia drank the whole cup down, and put the glass back on the counter along with two more coins.

"Another, please."

The woman laughed in a lovely, lilting way. "Thirsty girl, hmm? Well I won't refuse good taste, nor good coin." The woman vanished again, and soon returned with the glass filled once more with silver rainwater. "Here you are!"

Alia took the glass, and this time sipped it. She smiled to herself. It seemed odd to feel so nostalgic about something she'd never truly known, and yet she found herself missing so much from her unknown home. When she asked Valyrym to tell her his story, she had no idea it was going to be the story of her own people's downfall as well. She gave a little sigh, sipping her water again.

"Have you much of this?" Alia called out.

"A few barrels worth, yes," the woman replied. She began dusting up inside the wagon.

"Good, I'd like to bring my friends by in the future."

"We'll be here a few weeks at least, maybe a month or two." The woman laughed inside the wagon. She soon leaned out the window to dump a dustbin out on the street. "When never really know how long we'll stay in one place or another."

Alia nodded to herself. As she savored her water, she walked around the wagon, looking at the beautiful murals painted across it. Even the exotic, colorful nature of the wagon reminded her of a home she'd never really known. From the way Valyrym told it, it sounded as though the villages in Aran'alia had been very colorful in ways a string of banners strung over stone walls could never match. There were not many places around here that were painted in such colorful murals, aside from the shop of Paulson, the old tailor she liked.

Alia walked around the backside, admiring the artwork depicting the silver rain. At the front end of the wagon, there was a bright blue sky above rolling green hills. The wagon gradually darkened to a gray tone towards the back to give the feeling of clouds rolling in. Beneath the clouds, fat, shiny silver droplets the size of her fist were painted in curtain like waves rolling across the side of the wagon. Each raindrop was individually stylized, looking almost sharp as they cut through the air. Something blue caught her eye in one of the windows.

There, sitting on the window ledge like a badge of honor, was a stuffed blue dragon. Alia chuckled. It figured she looked all day for one, and after she'd given up she finally happened to spot one. It was a good deal larger than the other ones she had, as well, and would have made the largest dragon in Val's newly started collection. Alia craned her neck and stood up on her tip toes to peer through the leaded panes of glass at the stuffed dragon beyond. It was set up as though sitting on its haunches, looking at the outside world.

It was actually a very well made stuffed dragon. Higher quality even than the ones she'd already purchased. Its soft, fuzzy looking exterior was comprised of several shades of blue. It was a dark, nearly midnight blue across its black and its thin, leathery-looking wings, fading to a very pale blue across its belly. It had little gray horns sprouting from its head, and a rather short looking snout. The coloration was almost perfect. Almost uncannily so. Alia felt a shiver run down her spine that the warm sun did nothing to abate.

It could have been Kylaryn.

Alia walked back around the place, calling out to the woman. When she poked her head back out, Alia gestured around the side of the wagon. "How much do you want for that stuffed dragon on the other side?"

"Hmm?" The woman glanced back into the wagon, towards the back. "Oh, that old thing? That's not for sale. That's an antique!"

I bet it is, Alia thought. "Nonetheless, if you're willing to part with it, I'm willing to part with the necessary coin."

"Oh...well..." The woman seemed hesitant, and Alia suddenly couldn't read her. She felt as though the woman had thrown up an inner wall as impenetrable as the golden shielding Valyrym often positioned just behind his eyes. "It does hold a special meaning..."

Death In The Night. Alia almost said it aloud, but she caught herself just in time. Her imagination was running away with her again. Surely this woman was not an Aran'alian spy, and not actually affiliated with anyone who knew the dragon that toy seemed to be based upon. Then again, anything was possible. If Alia blurted out the wrong thing, the woman might close up shop and never return. Hell, if she was some kind of rebel spy, she might think Alia was working for Illandra. She was wearing their emblem, after all.

Trying not to stammer or appear nervous, Alia simply smiled and said, "From your family or something? I'd not want to divest you of a precious heirloom or sentimental treasure. It's just that I've got a friend who collects all manner of stuffed dragons."

"Do you." The woman's voice hovered between suspicious, and curious.

"Oh, yes, I do!" Alia smiled as innocently as she could. She pulled her pack from her shoulders, and opened it up to show the woman the pile of stuffed dragons she had crammed inside already. "I'm out buying him new ones while they're available, you see. He'd ever so much love to have a blue one, and I've been looking all over for one to no avail. All the good ones seem to be bought up already. And I can tell just by looking at it that yours is of a far superior quality anyway."

The woman chuckled a little bit, vanishing back inside the wagon. Alia shouldered her pack again. The woman soon returned bearing the stuffed toy, but she did not yet hold it out to Alia. "As I said, it's an antique. It's been passed around my family, but we've all worked to take very good care of it. It's not totally unique or anything, but there aren't that many of them, either." She worked her fingers around one of the wings, smiling. "The wings are real leather, you see, dyed a lovely shade of blue."

Alia stared at it a moment longer, her heart hammering her chest. If it hammered any harder she was afraid the woman would spot the ripples in her glass of silver water. It was her. It had to be her. Even if it was just some antique stuffed toy, made to look like one of the dragons who protected Aran'alia so long ago, it was still an incredible find. She could scarcely imagine the look on Valyrym's face when she presented him a literal stuffed Kylaryn.

The thought made her grin like a drunken fool staring at a girl he liked. Or perhaps, like Valyrym thinking about rum. "Yes, I see the craftsmanship is stunning. I'm willing to pay quite a hefty sum, actually. You see my friend would...well...I assure you, my friend would relish that particular toy more than any other."

The woman stared at Alia a moment, and then looked down at the large stuffed blue dragon in her arms. Alia was glad she'd brought plenty of money with her. She still had a coin pouch left that was brimming with coins. If she kept spending like this she was going to be broke again, but right now it scarcely mattered. She had to have that dragon. While the woman seemed to be mulling it over, Alia took the purse from her belt, and dropped it on the counter in such a way as to ensure it clinked quite loudly.

The woman's eyes flicked to the pouch, and she sighed. Finally, she handed the stuffed toy over the counter towards Alia. "Oh, well...alright."

Alia's smile could have outshone the sun as she reached for the toy she knew Valyrym would cherish above all others. Her smile vanished when the woman unexpectedly snatched up her wrist, holding her tightly. Her fingers dug into Alia's flesh, and the woman's gaze dug into her eyes. "It's him, isn't it!"

"Let me go," Alia hissed, pulling her hand back. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"It's him!" The woman insisted. "Your friend. It's him!"

The woman released her Alia from her grasp, and Alia swiftly took a few steps back, clutching the stuffed toy to her breast in trembling hands. Her wrist ached and she glared at the woman a moment. She seemed nearly as much a puzzle as the female dragon whom the toy she held represented. Kind one moment, fearsome the next, alternatively welcoming and suspicious. And she certainly seemed to know who Valyrym was. Alia honestly didn't know if that was a good thing, or a very bad thing.

Alia rubbed her wrist as she glared. She half expected the shopkeeper to jump out of her wagon and snatch Alia by the shoulders to try and shake some answers out of her. In truth, Alia already felt a little shaken. Reading reports and rumors was one thing. Coming face to face with a potential spy with vastly differing ideals and goals than Alia was something else entirely.

The woman soon wavered a little under Alia's gaze, glancing down at her hands. "I'm sorry if I hurt you," she said softly. Alia couldn't be sure if the woman was genuinely remorseful, or just putting on a front because she was as unsure of Alia's motives as Alia was of hers. "I just...well...I didn't expect to meet someone like you, that's all. And now I'm wondering who you are."

"I could ask you the same question," Alia said tucking the large stuffed blue dragon under one arm.

"A fair enough assumption, I suppose." The woman leaned forward, glancing up and down the street. "It's just...well...you see, it's difficult to know which side a person is on."

"I'm on no one's side," Alia said sharply. "Whatever you may be involved with, I want no part of it. But if you're who I think you are..." Alia trailed off, waiting for the woman to fill in the blanks. When she did not, Alia pressed on herself. "I assure you that I mean you no harm at all. But the only side I'm on is that of my friends."

The woman gave a single nod. "Fair enough, my dear. Here." She picked up the coin purse, and tossed it back to Alia. Alia deftly snatched it out of the air with her free hand. "Take your coins. Keep the dragon. May it bring him comfort."

"If anyone wanted to bring him comfort, they wouldn't have left him here to rot." Alia turned and began to walk away. Before the woman could reply to that, Alia called back over her shoulder. "Thank you for your time. If I've a chance I shall bring my friends by for more of that water!"

The woman called something else out to her as Alia walked back towards the main street, but Alia scarcely heard it. Her own heartbeat drowned out almost every other sound around her. A steady thumping rush filled her ears and thudded painfully inside her head. Her face felt hot, her skin flushed and red. Perspiration beaded upon her forehead. Her stomach twisted itself into pained knots like an agonized serpent.

As soon as Alia was back on the main street, she found a shady bench beneath a tall elm tree and flopped down upon it. She wiped her forehead and gave a long, weary sigh. Alia set the large stuffed dragon on the bench next to her, and pressed her face into her palms. Her whole body was shaking. For long moments she sought to calm herself, breathing deeply. Only when her heartbeat had eased a little and her stomach had unknotted itself did she lift her reddened face away from her clammy palms.

Alia took a deep breath, and held it as long as she could. Finally she let it out with a long, wavering sigh. She warred with herself for a little while. Was that really a spy? Or was she just being paranoid? And if there truly were Aran'alian spies in town, what did they seek to accomplish? Alia reached out and hoisted up the stuffed toy, and plopped it on her lap. "You know, don't you Little Ky. But I don't suppose you're going to tell me." Alia smiled at the toy as if expecting an answer. "No? I thought not. Then I shall have to ask Valyrym and see what he knows."

Alia hugged the toy against herself, cuddling it for a little while. She took some measure of simple comfort in its warm softness, smiling to herself. When she finally forced herself to rise to her feet, she was still clutching the stuffed blue dragon to herself like a child clinging to her favorite doll. As she made her way down the street, Alia wondered if Death In The Night was not only still alive, but skulking about in Illandra itself.

The thought sent tremors through Alia. If Death In The Night was here in Illandra, she doubted they were here to rescue Valyrym. There was something greater going on, some dark tapestry seemingly woven in the shadows for years.

Whatever it was, it was a sticky web, and Alia could only hope she still had time to escape it.

---

Chapter Six

By the time she'd nearly reached the castle, Alia remembered she'd promised to bring the Urd'thin more food. Come to think of it, she'd promised to do so the day before and completely forgot. Not that she could blame herself. Valyrym's tale lasted well into the morning, and Alia had not slept. By that same evening Kaylen and Alia were riding upon Valyrym's back like a couple of giddy children with a beloved pet.

It had warmed her heart to see Valyrym so happy for a little while. Alia wished to put some measure of happiness in his heart every day now.

So long as she was already in this part of town, she figured she may as well go see if Vatch and his comrades were around. With Little Ky tucked under her arm, Alia ventured away from the main road and down a side street. She'd been to that little bakery enough times now to know the best route to take to avoid the alleys pocked with puddles of unknown origin. Alia followed a side street that wove back and forth like a lazy river. It cut and twisted between old houses with wooden walls and sagging roofs that seemed only one good rain storm away from complete collapse. Alia knew plenty about houses like that, she'd lived in such a place for a while growing up.

As the first scents of freshly baked bread and pastries stuffed with candied fruits perfumed the air, Alia found herself smiling. Not just because the delightful aromas were overpowering the smells of garbage and worse things littering the street, either. Alia smiled because she found herself looking forward to seeing that odd little creature again. Despite the unpleasant meeting they had, Alia couldn't help but find herself amused by the Urd'thin's antics. Maybe she'd even buy the little bastard his own cake this time. Then he couldn't complain about her fat dragon friend getting all the treats.

As soon as Alia rounded the last corner behind the bakery she saw something was wrong. About a half dozen guards with gray and blue surcoats over their armor were standing around in the street out in front of the bakery. A few more men stood behind it. The rattle of heavy chain mail and the clatter of iron plate hung in the air as the guards slowly combed the area. One of them paused to peer in the same dumpster that Vatch and his friends had been digging through when Alia first encountered them. Two of the armored men struck off down an alleyway, their hands on the hilts of the swords. Another man held a crossbow in his hands with an bolt nocked. Two guards were talking with each other in hushed voices, one of them gesturing to a nearby corner. Alia flicked her eyes in that direction. Backed into a corner between two moldering, moss covered walls was Vatch.

"Damn it, Vatch," Alia hissed under her breath. "What've you done this time?"

Whatever he'd done, the Urd'thin looked as though he couldn't quite decide between being terrified or furious. His furred hands were balled up into fists at his sides, and his dark eyes were narrowed as he glared at the nearest guard. Alia half expected Vatch to march right up to the guard and punch him in the belly. Or, at least kick him in the shins given that punching armor wouldn't be especially effective. But every time that guard glared back at Vatch or moved towards him, the little horned dog-like creature gave a yap and backed away again.

As the guards seemed disinclined to pay any attention to Alia, she took a moment to appraise the situation. Vatch was wearing unusually clean clothes. She couldn't recall ever actually seeing one of the furred bipeds in clean clothes before. He wore a light blue shirt that was clearly too big for him. It hung down almost to his knees, and the sleeves looked as though they'd been rolled up a great deal just to reach his hands, all bunched up around his wrists. Now and then he reached up to scratch nervously at the dirty brown fur around his oversized ears and undersized horns. He'd probably stolen the damn shirt.

Laid on the ground nearby were the two grimy knives that Vatch had previously tried to rob her with. There was also a threadbare backpack with its contents upended on the dirty, broken cobblestones of the back street. Some old biscuits, some moldy bread, a meat pie half wrapped in parchment, a few copper coins, and what looked like an old ornamental hand mirror all lay nearby. Probably the contents of his pack, now evidence of his crime.

Alia wondered for a moment if he'd hurt anyone. She pursed her lips, and thought about walking off and leaving him to his fate. Yet that didn't seem right. At least not without knowing the circumstances. Alia took a deep breath, and let it out in a long sigh. Boldness and following her heart had gotten her this far. No sense in walking another path now. Alia walked over to the nearest guard, grasped his arm to get his attention, and tilted her head towards her Warden patch to make sure he didn't think she was just some Aran'alian girl out for a walk.

Granted, not many Warden officers carried a stuffed blue dragon under one arm, let alone wore a whole backpack filled with their cottony cousins. But Alia wasn't going to give the guard a chance to wonder about that. Alia held herself up straight, the toy tucked beneath her arm like an angry accountant might carry a clipboard.

"Guard," Alia said sharply, gesturing to the Urd'thin. "What's going on?"

The guard hesitated for a moment, furrowing his brown beneath his gray and blue toned helmet. He wasn't used to being addressed so matter-of-factly by Aran'alians, let alone Aran'alians carrying a load of stuffed animals. But he knew who she was, and he knew she had rank. Maybe she'd just really come to like dragons and wanted to collect her own. He cleared his throat with a little cough, straightening himself up.

"Ma'am," he said, inclining his head. "We received reports of armed robberies in this area involving Urd'thin. Upon arriving we observed this little rat-faced bastard loitering around along with a few of his filthy mongrel friends. Most of them ran off before we could call in any back-up, but this one stuck around long enough for us to get hold of him."

Interesting. That was just what Vatch had done the first time Alia met him. Granted, he'd also tried to rob her, but more and more it sounded like he was equally interested in giving his friends a chance to escape. After all, when Alia promised to buy him food, he'd also bartered a deal to feed his friends as well, and carried the food to them himself when they proved too afraid to get near Alia. Now it seemed Vatch had given himself up to give those same friends a chance to flee.

"So that Urd'thin over there was robbing people?" Not exactly the deal Alia made with him.

"He was here when we arrived, yes."

Ah. Alia knew what that meant. Whether Vatch was robbing people or not, all the Urd'thin related crimes in this area were about to pinned on him. Granted, it was possible many of them really were his fault. She couldn't really blame the guards for assuming the worst. After all, the little bastard had pulled a knife on her, too. But at the same time, Alia wasn't sure he'd ever actually hurt anyone before. And she herself knew how easily theft could tempt someone with a hungry belly. If she let them take him away, they'd probably put him to death.

"I think you are mistaken, Guard," Alia said before she could think better of it. "I recognize this Urd'thin. He was here because he was supposed to be picking me something up from this bakery. Probably having a chat with some old comrades. I suggest you look elsewhere for your robber, because this little bastard here is my servant." While the guard struggled to process that, Alia made a show of giving a very long, frustrated sigh. "And quite an ungrateful servant, at that! I tell you, you give these things a roof and a bit of food and you scarcely even hear any gratitude!"

Without giving the guard any chance to reply, Alia strode across the small plaza straight towards Vatch. She marched with the fiery anger of an arrogant noble furious that their servant wasn't doing exactly as they were told every moment of every day. It was an attitude Alia would never want to adopt herself, yet it was one she was quite familiar with. Feigning it proved easier than she cared to admit. For all these guards would know she'd already taken to her new position of power and was now bossing around servants of her own. Urd'thin servants, in this case.

Vatch caught sight of Alia approaching him, and his dark eyes lit up as he spotted his potential savior. Barely visible pupils quickly fixed upon her. "Alia!" He cried out. "You must listen! I not do what they say!"

Alia struck him sharply across the muzzle with an open palm as soon as she reached him, hard enough to jerk his head to the side. Vatch yelped in pain, stumbling back and cupping his muzzle with his paws. His large ears pinned back against his head, muzzle scrunching up in pain as his nose stung madly. Alia didn't give him a moment's break, either. She reached right out and snatched him by the collar of his oversized blue shirt, shaking him roughly.

"I've been looking everywhere for you!" She scowled at him, taking the same tone a mother would take with an ungrateful child. Or Servant Master Kesh might take with a servant asking for just a copper more in payment. "And here I finally find you, causing these decent men trouble? I've half a mind to dump you right back on the filthy streets and see how you like that! And look at your fur, why, it was only a week ago I allowed you that lovely bath, and now you look as though you've been rolling around in the mud."

The nearest guards were now staring in bewilderment, just as Alia had hoped. She was grateful none of them could see inside her body to catch a glimpse of her fiercely pounding heart. It seemed her pulse could scarcely take a moment to slow its pace today. It was just as well, Alia found her best performances seemed to come when she was pulsing with adrenaline. She snatched one of Vatch's hands away from his snout, then squeezed it as she turned and walked away. Vatch was forced to follow to avoid having his arm wrenched from its socket.

"I'm sorry for any trouble my servant has caused you," Alia said as she walked past a group of guards. Then she paused in full view of everyone, and turned back towards him. "Here! You carry this, you filthy thing." She shoved Little Ky into his arms, glowering. "And don't you dare get your stink all over it, or I shall have you furry little bottom paddled raw for the second time!"

That brought a crude laugh from several of the soldiers, and Alia strode past them with her eyes forward and her shoulders square, ensuring her demeanor said as much about her as the emblems on her clothing. One of the guards moved to get in her way, and when Alia went to side step him, he grabbed her arm.

"Listen, Lady..."

Alia ever so slowly turned her head and leveled her gaze at him. If her green eyes were any sharper they'd have cut the man's head clean off. She made a very deliberate show of looking him up and down. He wore chain mail over a padded jerkin, but was not wearing any armor across his legs, or below the waist at all. Alia knew the guards well enough now to know that they were assigned armor to cover all their vulnerable areas, though unless they expected combat some of the guards were a little too lazy to bother putting it all on.

"Take your hand off my arm immediately, Guard." Alia grit her jaw. "And never refer to me as "Lady" again, unless you wish me to demonstrate why you should never go on duty without all your armor." She lifted her knee slightly, quirking a brow at the same time.

The guard released her arm, and took a step back, his face flushing behind his helmet as his fellows laughed at him. "Yes, Ma'am. Sorry Ma'am."

"That's better," Alia muttered. She glanced around at the other guards, most of whom were staring at her now. Alia waved a hand at the myriad side streets and alleyways connected to the plaza where the bakery stood. "Well? Those muggers aren't going to catch themselves. Perhaps if you spread out to conduct an actual search instead of standing about gossiping like a bunch of old maids over their knitting, you might actually find the right Urd'thin this time. Now get to work before I pass it up the chain that you're all just lazing about while armed robbers prowl the streets!"

The men were soon scrambling to divide themselves up into smaller search groups, some of them calling out orders at each other. Alia took advantage of their distraction to snatch Vatch by one of his large ears and lead him yelping down the street. As soon as she felt she was far enough away from the guards to be safe, she released his ear, and whirled around on him.

"Vatch," she whispered, her heart still pounding. "Are you alright?"

Vatch tilted his head back to peer up at her. His eyes were so wide they resembled immense, brown-black marbles, and Alia thought if they went any wider they were going to crack his skull. He rubbed his sore ear with a hand, clutching the stuffed dragon tightly in his other arm. He swallowed so hard Alia could hear it, and took a step back from her. Alia took a deep breath and held it, her breasts pressed against the gray fabric of her blouse for long moments. Then she let it out slowly, and held her hands out. Vatch passed the stuffed blue dragon back to her, and Alia tucked it back under her arm.

"I'm very sorry I hit you, Vatch," Alia said gently. "And I didn't mean what I said. Is your nose alright?"

"...Is sore," Vatch said, cautiously. "You...say to save me?"

Alia chuckled a little bit. "Yes, Vatch. I said those things so they'd think you were my servant. I only had a moment to think of a way to get you out there, and that was all I could come up with." Alia giggled to herself. "Frankly I'm surprised I pulled that off at all, after the day I've been having."

Vatch rubbed his nose a moment, grinning just a little. "You pretty good at play big, mean bitch."

Alia blinked, not sure she should take that as a compliment. "Just consider yourself lucky."

"What you do out here, anyway?" Vatch tilted his head. "You bring food?"

"You don't think of much else, do you," Alia replied, licking her lips a little. Her mouth was still dry from nervousness. "I came to buy you something to eat, yes, since I wasn't able to make it yesterday."

"Yes, I think you not want come. Is okay." Vatch shrugged, and turned as though he was going to walk off.

Alia grabbed him by the shoulder. "Oh no you don't. We're not done here."

"...Why not?" Vatch turned back around, a little suspicion creeping into his voice.

"Because if I let you wander off now you're only going to get caught again."

"I not get caught..."

"And because I need to know if you did it." Alia tightened her grip on his shoulder.

"Did what?" Vatch tilted his head, one big ear perked, the other flopping down.

"Don't be coy, Vatch," Alia narrowed her eyes at him. "I am not in the mood."

"Koi? Is fish, yes?"

Alia took another deep breath. "Vatch, I'm not going to warn you again."

Vatch gave a little growl, snapping his sharp little teeth. "No! I not do it! I promise you before, I no rob, and I no rob! Stupid ugly guard think all Urd'thin is robber! I try tell them is not me, but they say, have knife, have knife, must be robber! Have stolen food, must be thief! Wear clean shirt, must be stolen!"

"Is it stolen?"

"Shirt? Yes. But food? ...Yes. But knife for protection."

Alia slowly felt her irritation abating. Somehow, the furry little bastard always seemed to amuse her. "You pulled that knife on me, Vatch."

"Yes!" Vatch nodded a few times. "For protection!"

"You demanded my money," Alia reminded him.

"Was bad decision," Vatch said, glancing away. A little embarrassment flickered in his eyes for a moment as though he was humiliated to have resorted to such a tactic against a woman who later proved kind of heart even to an Urd'thin. "I...I sorry."

"Alright, Vatch," Alia softened her tone, and gently patted him on the head, between his ears and horns. "So you promise me you haven't robbed anyone else with that knife?"

"Yes!" Vatch swore to her, his dark eyes gleaming with what Alia hoped was earnestness. "Only take shirt from clothesline, only take food from dumpster! ...And shelf." Vatch licked his nose a little bit, reaching up to brush his fingers through Alia's raven hued locks. "You know. Dark hair. You know."

"Yes, Vatch," Alia said gently. "I know what it's like to have to steal to fill your belly. The choice between another hungry night or a stolen loaf of bread is an easy one to make, and I've made it plenty of times in the past. But...it's no way to live your life, Vatch. Taking other people's hard work for yourself is not a good way to live."

"Oh." Vatch flicked his large ears, and tossed his head, baring a few teeth. "I just go down bank, take out big withdraw, buy all food I want, yes? Is easy, since have such high pay job!"

Alia couldn't help but laugh. She took Vatch's hand again, this time gently, and began to walk down the alleyway. The Urd'thin reluctantly began to follow her. Alia glanced back at him. "You're going to fit right in."

"What mean fit in?"

"It means you're going to get along well with me, and my friends." Alia smiled to herself.

Vatch pinned his ears back. He tugged at Alia's hand but she did not let him. "Where we go?"

"We go, Vatch," Alia said with a smirk. "To get you a job."

---

Valyrym slowly lifted his wedge shaped head from the old lilac toned pillow edged in lace. He'd been dreaming of her again. Now, though, as he woke from his nap, his thoughts were on the sound of water splashing in the distance. It was not the usual faint sound of water trickling over stone. No, this sounded like a person splashing around in a deeper pool of water. Someone was in his tub. Alia must be drawing him a bath, perhaps even preparing to share it with him this time. Now that was a lovely thought to wake up to.

Valyrym smiled to himself as he began to rise from his bed of soft things. He stretched himself out, hoisting his hind end in the air, and reaching as far forward with his front paws as he could. He yawned and his pink tongue curled inside his dark, gray marked muzzle. Just as he finished his stretch and stood the rest of the way up, he realized something had changed drastically.

At the end of his bedding, two Val Juniors stared back at him.

Valyrym blinked at them a few times. He lowered his head, sniffed one, then sniffed the other as if making sure he wasn't simply seeing things. Then he hissed. "You've multiplied!" With a swat of his paw, he sent the one with the unfamiliar scent flying across the room, muttering under his breath. "Damn imposter."

Valyrym limped out of his sleeping chamber, but as soon as he began to turn the sharp corner to the archway leading to the main chamber, he spotted a third Val Junior.

"Damn things are breeding like humans!" As he walked past it, he noticed this one lacked curved horns, and had little golden spots along it here and there. The golden spots proved little shielding to the lash of a dragon's tail and soon the cottony intruder was spinning end over end through the air before bouncing off the nearest wall and tumbling across the floor.

Turning the corner into his primary prison chamber, Valyrym spotted yet another stuffed visitor staring up at his carved timeline. This one was a very dark green color, almost a forest tone. A green one, a black one with golden spots? Valyrym was starting to sense a pattern. He chuckled to himself, and licked his nose. He walked over to the green one, and hoisted it up in a paw. He sniffed at it, and then turned back the way he'd come. Gauging the distance, he lobbed the toy back beyond the archway, landing it not far from the black one with golden spots.

"There," he said to himself. "I'll leave you two alone for a while." The dragon turned towards the tub and began to make his way across the chamber, calling out for the dastardly villainess behind this soft and huggable invasion. "Alia!"

"I'm over here, Val." Alia's voice drifted back to Val over the sound of running water.

"I think we're going to have to have Val Junior neutered!" The old dragon flared up his spines, tossing his head and grinning to himself. "He seems to be siring himself quite the infernal little cotton-stuffed litter!"

"That's terrible!" Alia called back to him, laughing. "You can't neuter poor Val Junior. Besides, if we neutered him I'm afraid we'd have to neuter you too. It's the only way to be fair."

Valyrym snarled, flaring his wings as he followed the sound of Alia splashing about in the tub. "Just you try it! Besides, you'd miss them too much."

"Not as much as your ego thinks I would," Alia giggled.

"Just wait till I climb into that tub with you," the dragon purred to himself. "We'll see what you think of them then."

Yet as Valyrym drew closer to the sounds of splashing water, he realized the sounds were not actually coming from Alia. In fact, Alia wasn't in the tub at all. Rather, she leaning against the outer wall of it, giggling. But the tub was full, and it was occupied. As Valyrym neared her, he saw a furry, vaguely canine-ish head poking up above the water. Large ears lay half flat against that head, with small horns sprouting between them. Sopping wet, chocolate-brown fur was slicked down against the tapered muzzle. Dark eyes widened and peered right back at the dragon, and the creature gave a startled squeak.

"Alia," Valyrym hissed, scrunching his snout up in distaste. He flared out all his spines. "That had better not be an Urd'thin in my tub."

"Dragon is mad?" The creature sunk a little lower in the murky looking water.

Alia shook her head, black tresses waving. "No, no. Dragon is not mad."

"Dragon is mad," Valyrym insisted, stalking towards the tub as though it were unsuspecting prey about to be pounced upon. "Why is there an Urd'thin in my tub?"

"Dragon sound mad," the Urd'thin said, chittering a little and pinning his ears all the way back.

"Dragon always sounds mad," Alia said with a giggle. "He's just grumpy. Don't mind him."

"So...Dragon not eat me?" The creature turned his head back and forth, gazing alternately at Alia and Valyrym. Water dripped from his snout.

"Yes, Dragon eat you," Valyrym said, snapping his jaws as loudly as he could while trying to bore holes through the little creature with his golden eyes.

"No," Alia cooed as if Val wasn't even there. "Dragon not eat you Vatch."

"Why is Dragon being ignored!" Valyrym stomped a paw against the floor. "Not wise to ignore Dragon!"

Alia finally burst out laughing. She turned around and folded her arms under her breasts, leaning against the tub wall. "Talking in the third person doesn't suit you, Valyrym."

"Alia..." Valyrym gave a long, weary sounding sigh. "Why is there an Urd'thin in my tub?"

"Because he was filthy," Alia said, as if it were the only explanation Valyrym needed.

Valyrym stalked forward until he was nearly pressing his muzzle against Alia's nose. He gestured towards the brownish water in which the Urd'thin sat. "Perhaps you should consider bathing him in clean water, then."

Alia glanced back at it, scowling. "It was clean when he went in."

"Ah, well that case, it appears as though he was carrying the contents of an overflowing latrine in his fur, and his now transferred that into my tub." He reached forward, dipped a single paw into the water, and then peered at the discolored beads of water clinging to his scales. "Thank you for that, by the way." Then he flicked the lingering droplets into the Urd'thin's face and made Vatch flinch. "Consider yourself lucky you're entirely too filthy to even think about eating."

"That good, right?" Vatch tilted his head.

"Only if you're proud of resembling the inside of a toilet."

"Actually, you have a point, Val..."

The dragon cut her off with a snap of his jaws and a flourish of his wings. "Alia, if you give my name to this dirty little mutt, I shall dump you in the tub with him."

Alia only smirked at him. She reached out and rubbed the soft area around Val's gray nose, soothing him a little. "The Dragon has a point, I was going to say. It's time to send all that dirty water down the drain and replace it with fresh, soapy water."

"Perhaps you should send the Urd'thin down the drain as well," Valyrym muttered, glaring at the smaller creature.

Alia swatted him on the nose. "Be nice."

Valyrym yelped and pulled his head back, turning his smoldering gaze to Alia, instead. "I am being nice. I haven't killed him yet."

Vatch gave an audible gulp, scooting back to the far side of tub. "Dragon not like Vatch?"

"Dragon not like finding you in tub, after nap." Valyrym settled onto his haunches, coiling his tail around his paws.

"Is cause I call you fat?" Vatch perked one of his ears, the other flopped at the side of his head.

"You called me what?" Valyrym snarled.

"You get whole cake all to self...I not know you dragon, though."

"I've no idea what you're babbling about, you soggy rat." Valyrym bared a few of his fangs, letting them shine in the flickering light of the torches Alia had set up nearby. The slightly acrid scent of their flames had tinted the air. "But I shall be considerably fatter after I devour you." Valyrym waved his paw towards the creature, flaring up his central frill. "So do be sure and get nice and clean in there."

While the two creatures bantered, Alia walked around the tub, opening up the sluice gates so that the dirty water could start pouring out. It rushed down across the stone floor in a sludgy wave towards the old drain. Soon it pooled there, a filthy looking whirlpool swirling just above the grating. As the tub emptied, Alia went to add a few more hot coals to each stove, and get fresh, hot water flowing back in.

When Alia returned with an armful of soaps and things, she grinned at the dragon. "Dragon, this is Vatch. Vatch, this is the dragon. If he likes you he'll give you his real name. If you hear me slip up and use it around you...well, just don't repeat it."

"Dragon eat me if say name?"

"Yes." Valyrym growled low in his throat, lowering his head a little closer to the tub.

"No, he won't," Alia assured Vatch. "But he will bitch and moan about it and then Thomas and Kaylen and you and I will never hear the end of it."

"Must you persist in spoiling all my attempts to intimidate this little runt?" Valyrym uncoiled his tail long enough to clatter his spines against the floor.

Alia simply shrugged. The fresh hot water began to flush out the last of the dirty water, and Vatch used a washcloth to cover himself. Alia tossed a hunk of scented soap to the Urd'thin. The Urd'thin caught it in one hand, sniffed it, and then bit it and made a face. Alia burst out laughing and Vatch glared at her.

Vatch pinned his big ears back, licking at his muzzle as though trying to get the taste of soap out of his mouth. "This smell good but taste bad!"

"It's soap, Vatch." Alia giggled to herself, leaning against the tub wall. "You don't eat it, it gets you clean."

Vatch scrunched up his vaguely canine snout. "Is make me smell like flowers! Is female scent!"

Valyrym rumbled a laugh, grinning down at Alia. "Ah, finally he says something I can agree with. You see, Alia? No one wants to smell like flowers but you."

"Shut it, Lizard," Alia said without looking back. She went around the back of the tub, closed off the sluice gates, and soon the clean hot water began to fill it. "Just rub your fur down with that, Vatch, and the water will do the rest." Alia turned around to give the Urd'thin a little more privacy while the water was still rising. "And that washcloth is for...well, washing. Not just for modesty."

"Not that he's anything to be modest about," Valyrym said, golden eyes gleaming mischievously. "I can scarcely even see that tiny little sheath."

"Hey!" Vatch yelped, huffed, and folded his arms over his thin, brown furred chest. He muttered softly, almost under his breath. "Dragon gay."

Valyrym went silent a moment, blinking as his frilled black ears swiveled forward. He snorted. "What was that?"

"Is okay Dragon." Vatch shook his head, grinning. "Vatch not judge."

"You'd better watch what you're implying there, little rodent."

"Is not imply." Vatch shrugged, glancing over at Alia. "Dragon already admit he look at Vatch sheath."

"I did not!" Valyrym stomped a paw against the stony floor like a child throwing a tantrum in an argument.

"You did, actually," Alia said, moving to put her hand on the dragon's neck. "You said it was tiny, which implies you've seen it. Which is the same as admitting you were looking." Alia stroked Valyrym's neck, and glanced back at the Urd'thin with a smirk. "And for the record Vatch, it's not tiny at all."

Vatch beamed. "Thank you!"

"I hope you both get the damn runs," the dragon grumbled under his breath. "Now, is anyone going to tell me why there's a damn Urd'thin in my damn tub?"

"There's a damn Urd'thin in your damn tub because I'm giving the damn Urd'thin a damn job as my damn assistant." Alia giggled to herself, though she seemed more amused by her play on the dragon's overuse of the word damn than Valyrym did. "Any other questions?"

"more than I can count," Valyrym said, watching Vatch splash around in the water like a hatchling at play in a puddle. "Such as, why does he act as though this is the first time he's ever seen water before?"

"Because he's never had a hot bath."

"Given the state of the filthy water you just emptied, I find it difficult to believe he's ever had any manner of bath."

"I take bath in rain," Vatch said, as though that was a perfectly reasonable option.

"You take bath in urine, from the smell of you," Valyrym hissed back at the creature.

Alia swatted the dragon's neck. "Be nice. You'll hurt his feelings."

"Perhaps if someone had hurt them earlier, he would have found reason to take better care of himself."

"You be nice to Vatch!" The Urd'thin said with a little snarl right before flinging a handful of soapy foam and water into the dragon's face.

Valyrym yelped in surprise, some of the soap bubbles stinging his eyes. "ACK!" He shook his head a few times, rubbing at his eyes with his paws. "You little vermin! I'm going to drown you in that tub!"

Alia started laughing as the dragon struggled to clear the soap from his eyes. More foamy white bubbles ran down the end of his snout while others dripped down his cheeks. Valyrym shook his head again, and some of the soap flew in all directions. Just as he'd nearly recovered, Vatch threw another handful of the frothy stuff right into the dragon's face again. This time Valyrym gave a surprisingly bird-like squawk of alarm, nearly falling over. Which of course only made Alia laugh harder.

"Oh, good shot, Vatch!" Alia cried out between bouts of laughter. "I guess it's not just your friends and family who end up throwing things at your face, eh Valyrym?"

Valyrym and Alia realized she'd just spoken his name aloud at the same time. Valyrym opened his eyes to bleary golden slits, glaring at her a moment. Alia turned to run but it was too late. Valyrym snatched her up in his front paws, hoisted her up off the ground, and promptly tossed her right into the tub. Alia gave a squeal as she arced through the air, and nearly landed atop Vatch. The Urd'thin scrambled out of the way, and Alia landed in the water with a tremendous splash. Soapy waves emanating from her landing point washed across the water in all directions and cascaded over the walls in frothy waterfalls.

Valyrym was already laughing like mad when Alia found her footing, and stood up in the nearly chest deep water. Her gray blouse was slicked down to her body, the curves of her breasts pressed against it. All her black hair was clinging to her face, and her eyes shone with both furious rage and mischievous amusement. Furious amusement, perhaps. Vatch scrambled away from her, but even the Urd'thin found himself laughing as Alia balled up her hands into fists at her hips.

"You brat!" Alia hissed at the dragon, and quickly looked around for something to throw at him. "I'm going to kill you!"

"Bring it on, Alia," Valyrym purred playfully. "I warned you, after all. Consider that the price you pay for giving him my name, and for bringing him here and putting him in my tub in the first place."

Alia found nothing suitable for tossing at the dragon and so just stood in the tub, soaked and frustrated. "I am going to kick you so hard!"

Valyrym growled a little bit, backing away from the tub. "Don't you even think about it."

"Oh, I'm thinking about," Alia replied with a wicked grin. "You'll be lucky if you can ever find that left one again!"

"But that one's my favorite," the dragon said with a playful whimper.

"That's why he's target number one!"

"Why don't you kick the Urd'thin, instead," Valyrym suggested as though trying to be helpful. "He's the one staring at your waterlogged breasts."

Alia glanced over at Vatch, who quickly looked away. That only made Alia laugh. She turned towards him and rubbed his wet head between his ears and horns. "Naughty little thing."

Vatch gave her a sheepish grin. "They look nice!"

"Why thank you, Vatch," Alia said with a smile.

Valyrym growled. "Oh, sure. If I say that when you're mad you'd curse me out."

Alia just laughed. She fished around in the water until she'd found the remains of a bar of soap, and the washcloth, then she pressed them to Vatch's chest. While her breasts were pressed so fully against her blouse, she made sure to wave them in Vatch's face, as much to make Valyrym jealous as anything else. "Here. Get yourself good and clean."

"Why don't you stroke him off while you're at it," Valyrym said, stalking back and forth beside the tub. He looked like a warrior waiting for an opening to strike.

"Oh?" Alia quirked a brow. "You want to watch me do that?"

"I would say you wouldn't dare, but that would only give you more reason to do it."

"Ah, so you do have a jealous side," Alia said with a giggle.

Valyrym snorted, shaking his head. "I do not. It is only because you are doing it to irritate me." Then he licked his nose, grinning. "I think the proper word might be envious, anyway. If he gets stroked off, I should want the same." Then he scrunched his snout. "Ech. My nose still tastes like soap."

"Next time I'll tell him to aim for the inside of your mouth," Alia said, watching the dragon a moment. Then she turned towards Vatch, and couldn't help but notice he looked a little hopeful. He was grinning and his big ears were perked up. She laughed, and patted him on the head. "Sorry, Vatch. I don't know you that well just yet."

"Didn't stop you when we first met," Valyrym said with a smirk.

Alia twisted around, glaring at him. Her face flushed and her ears grew hot. She bit her lip a little, and then shook her head, laughing softly. "Let's just say I got carried away." She sloshed through the water back to the wall of the tub, and carefully climbed out while casting a glance back at Vatch. "Get yourself clean, alright? With any luck those clothes I fetched you should fit after you're dry."

As Alia stepped out of the tub, sloshing water everywhere, Valyrym took a step back. He glared at her in suspicion, tucking his tail protectively. "Be that as it may, I'm quite glad you were carried away as you put it."

"So am I," Alia said, smiling. With a wet hand she stroked the dragon's soft, gray-marked nose. "Even though at the time I had no way of knowing you had a history with human woman. Come to think of it, you tricked me into that, you dirty beast." She giggled at him, still stroking his nose.

"I merely suggested it. The fact your people had a history of pleasuring mine to gain our favor had little to do with it." Valyrym gave her hand a few licks, grinning. "You were the one who played with my balls till I had an erection."

Alia's face only grew redder. Much as she hated to admit Valyrym was right about anything, she had been the one to initiate their very first encounter. After all she'd been bathing him, and he'd simply been laying there letting her do as she pleased. He'd been so relaxed, it seemed as though the dragon scarcely even realized he had gotten an erection until Alia pointed it out at him. Alia wondered if his mind had been drifting to Amaleen back during their first encounter.

"Let's just say we're both happy things went the way they did, and call it even." Alia slipped her fingers beneath the dragon's chin to stroke along his jaw line.

"Call it even, yes." Valyrym grinned back at her. "I like the sound of that. Let's call everything even, actually, including me throwing you in the tub. I should rather like to avoid getting kicked in the testicles if the option exists."

Alia giggled and lifted her foot, waggling her wet boot at him. "I'll tell my boot to call a ceasefire with your balls. For now. But I'm afraid you may have ruined them."

"Ruined my balls? I certainly have not." The dragon tossed his head, snorting. "They're as functional as they ever were!"

"I'm talking about my boots, you thick-skulled old salamander." Alia swatted him on the nose, grinning. "Don't make me call off the ceasefire."

Valyrym pulled his head back, neck curling into an S. He flared his wings a little. "I don't suppose there's anything I could do to soothe the rest of your furious rage?"

Alia gestured towards Vatch who was busy soaping up as much of his fur as he could. "You can stop trying to make Vatch look bad, and start being nice to him."

Valyrym grunted. Nice to some mouthy, upstart Urd'thin? That would take some effort. Curling his lip in a draconic sneer, Valyrym glared at the Urd'thin. Not that the Urd'thin seemed to notice.

The scrawny little creature seemed fascinated by the effect the soap was having upon his body. He rubbed it against his fur, then ran his fingers through the trail of froth it left behind as if he couldn't understand where it came from. Then he lifted fingers covered in soapy foam to his nose to sniff at them. He sniffed a little too hard and snorted some of the foam into his nose which immediately caused him to start coughing and sneezing all over the place.

Valyrym lashed his tail, grinning. "I suppose he does do a good enough job making himself look bad. Very well." He tilted his head down towards Alia. "I shall endeavor to be...nice. But in return, I demand you tell me why he's here."

"I already told you," Alia said, stroking the dragon's cheek. Then she turned and walked back towards the stoves, beckoning for the dragon to follow. Valyrym reluctantly began to pad after the soaking wet woman, the scent of flowery soap that still clung to her left a trail he could have followed with his eyes closed.

Alia called back to him. "Because I know what it's like to be in his place. To live on the street, to steal just to survive. Knowing there's no one out there who cares about what happens to you. Being looked down upon every day of your life because you're a little different. At least when I was arrested I knew I wasn't going to be executed. It's different for him. Half the guard stations throughout the city have a standing bounty on the heads of Urd'thin known to be dangerous."

"Dangerous?" Valyrym came to a stop, glancing back at the creature splashing about in the tub. "This is the one that tried to rob you, isn't it."

"Yes, but don't hold that against him."

"Don't hold armed robbery against him?" The dragon tossed his head and flared his spines, incredulous.

"Attempted robbery," Alia reminded him, coming to a stop. She stood near a pile of clothes for the Urd'thin, as well as her gray and black pack, and a cream-toned bed sheet she'd brought down to cover something up with. "Valyrym, do this for me. I've forgiven him for that, and he and I have started to become friends. I've even been feeding him and his people a few times. When he pulled the knife on me, I think it was just..." Alia waved her hand in circles, searching for the right word. She scrunched her face a little. "A spur of the moment decision. A bad decision, but I think he was just hoping I'd give him my coins and run away. He was trying to cover his friends' escape."

Valyrym growled a little bit, his spines still flared out. He turned his head to glare back at the Urd'thin, a surge of anger running through his blood. When Alia told him about the robbery attempt, he'd joked with her at the time. But now, seeing the actual perpetrator, knowing that little bastard had pulled a knife on the woman he cared so deeply for. Valyrym growled again, louder, and started to turn around. Before he could do so, Alia reached out and snatched him by the ear.

Valyrym yelped and turned his head back towards Alia. She placed her other hand upon his nose, peering into his eyes. "Let it go, Valyrym. He has apologized, and I have forgiven him. I want you to do the same. Let it go."

"Alia, I cannot easily..."

"Let it go," Alia repeated, her voice soft, soothing. "For me."

Valyrym took a deep breath, and held it until his lungs burned. He closed his eyes for a few moments, opening them only when he finally exhaled again. He grit his teeth, but slowly nodded, spines relaxing against his head. "Very well, Alia."

Alia smiled at him, gently stroking the dragon's nose. "No one else would ever consider giving him a job, Valyrym. No one would help him, or his people. People think they're monsters. Or Vermin. That they should be slain, or driven out for the good of the city. Does that sound at all familiar, Valyrym?"

Valyrym grumbled to himself, but slowly nodded again. Then he smirked a little, his tone flat. "Your ability to draw parallels between our species is uncanny, Alia."

"You can't lament the way your species is treated, and turn around and do the same to another." She stroked his cheek, smiling. "You understand that, don't you?"

"I am not angry with him because he is an Urd'thin," Valyrym said with a little growl. "I am angry because he tried you hurt you."

Alia suddenly hugged his head tightly against her body. It surprised him a little, but it was not long before the dragon had lifted a foreleg to wrap it around her back and return the hug. "And your desire to protect me is a lovely thing, Valyrym. But Vatch and I are friends now. I can't ask you to make friends with him, but I am hiring him as my third assistant, and so you'll see him around a lot. I'm just asking you to treat him with the same respect I treated you with when I first met you."

Valyrym pulled his head back after a moment, then nuzzled at Alia's cheek. "Very well, Alia. I shall be sure to threaten to kick him in the testicles as soon as I get the chance."

"Not exactly the part of our meeting I meant, but it's a start," Alia said with a little giggle.

Valyrym thumped his tail against the ground, spines rattling. He flared a wing, and flicked it towards the cream colored sheet covering an unknown object nearby. "What's all that?"

"The clothes are for Vatch." Alia put her hands on her hips, grinning. 'Though if I'd known you were going to pull that little stunt with the tub I'd have brought down dry clothes for myself, as well."

"You may as well start keeping extra sets of clothing down here."

"Not a bad idea."

"That way I could throw you in the tub at my leisure." Valyrym grinned wickedly, his golden eyes glimmering with mischief. "If the rat wasn't in there I would have joined you."

"Keep it up, Dragon, and you won't get your present."

Valyrym cocked his head to the side, frilled ears perked. "I have already seen the stuffed menagerie you've coaxed Val Junior into breeding."

Alia giggled at that, scrunching her nose a little. "I rather doubt Val Junior would need any "coaxing" to breed. From the way you tell it, you males practically throw yourself on every available female just because she starts to smell nicer than usual."

Valyrym glared at her a moment. He wanted to tell Alia that there was more than that to it...but there wasn't. "That is about the gist of it, yes."

Alia walked back towards the sheet that lay across the mysterious object. "I hope you like the other stuffed dragons, though. I actually had to work very hard to find any that looked familiar."

Alia crouched down, looking up at Valyrym. For a moment, ghosts danced behind his eyes. Memories of friends he'd not seen in ages, rekindled by the tale he told her, and the sight of cotton-stuffed reminders. If Val Junior could become such a beautiful reminder, than so too could the other dragons. Valyrym swallowed hard, and then slowly began to smile. "Thank you, Alia. They are beautiful. I shall cherish them." Then his smile faded. "And if you tell them that I shall sink them in the tub with that filthy Urd'thin."

Alia giggled a little but, but she was suddenly nervous. She felt as though a host of teeny tiny dragon hatchlings were all chasing each other's tails inside her belly. "I'm glad you like them. I have one more, actually. I almost didn't find this one and...well..."

In truth, Alia wasn't sure how Valyrym would feel about Little Ky. She hoped it would make him happy, but part of her feared it might prove a more sorrowful reminder than the others. Valyrym felt differently about Kylaryn than any of the other dragons. She hesitated for a moment even to show it to him.

"Is it...blue?"

"Yes, Valyrym," Alia said softly. "It is." She licked her lips, her mouth a little dry. "I thought it might make a lovely surprise for you, and I searched everywhere before I finally found a very, very special one. But...once I had it, I realized...well, I brought you Val Junior without ever knowing about Valar. Now I know all about Kylaryn, and if you don't want to see this..."

Silence settled across them like cold snow as Alia trailed off. The old dragon's heart was thundering in his chest so forcefully he feared it might explode through his sternum and stain Alia's cream-toned sheet crimson. What a way to go that would be. For a moment, he considered telling Alia to wrap up the blue dragon and take it away from him. Valyrym wasn't sure he could handle it.

As often as he thought about Valar and Amaleen, he spent almost as much time trying not to think about Kylaryn. It was not that he did not miss Kylaryn, for he missed her very deeply. But things between them were different. The more he thought of Kylaryn, the more guilt he felt over leaving someone behind who had grown to love him so completely. Valyrym was already tormented daily by the knowledge of leaving his son behind to pursue his revenge, and he simply tried not to think about poor Kylaryn.

Please Valyrym, don't die.

Come back to me some day.

Find me. Find your son.

Valyrym had not died, but never would he be able to fulfill his promise to return to Kylaryn some day if he survived. For a moment, he wondered if Kylaryn was even still alive. He often feared she was dead. He often feared they were all dead. He had left Kylaryn in charge of Death In The Night, and left her alone to raise their son together. In the end, Aran'alia had fallen, Death In The Night had failed, and all the dragons he once knew were either dead, or exiled to some far flung land.

And yet...

Alia watched Valyrym in silence. She could see clouds of thought and specters of memories drifting behind his golden eyes. It seemed as though the walls he'd long ago erected to shield what remained of his broken soul from the outside world would never be the same. Alia felt as though he'd taken those very walls down brick by bloody brick in order to allow himself to tell her the full harrowing truth of his tale. He'd tried to put them back up after that, but Alia could see it in his eyes even if no one else could tell the difference. There were gaping holes in Valyrym's emotional walls now, and they could never truly be mended. And shining through one of those holes, Alia could see the flickering light of a truth Valyrym denied even to himself.

In all the many years since he'd left her behind, Valyrym had grown to love Kylaryn.

When Valyrym finally spoke, he did so with a hoarse, trembling voice. "I should very much like to see her."

Alia smiled at him, and slowly pulled away the sheet to reveal the stuffed blue dragon she'd acquired from the Aran'alian vendor. The sight took Valyrym's breath way. The dragon stared at the toy a moment, and slowly crept forward as if afraid the inanimate thing was going to bite him. Knowing Kylaryn, it probably would if it was able. Valyrym crept closer and closer to the stuffed dragon, lowering his head to stare it until he was nearly muzzle to muzzle with Little Ky.

"It is..." Valyrym didn't know what to say. The coloration was nearly perfect. "It...it is..."

"It's her, isn't it," Alia said for him.

Valyrym flopped down onto his belly as though suddenly sapped of his all his strength. He pulled the stuffed blue toy towards him with his fore legs, looking it over. Indigo wings. Dark blue back, paler belly. Gray horns. The dragon blinked away a few tears. For a moment, a bittersweet moment, he was holding Kylaryn. Everything was different. He had never left. He watched Valar grow. Kylaryn was his life mate. Amaleen was un-avenged, but his family was happy to have him in their lives. And Valyrym was not a murderer of children.

And then Valyrym was back in the dungeon.

Valyrym heaved a heavy sigh, and pulled the toy tightly against the plates of his chest. "Yes, Alia," he said with a shaking voice. He sniffled a little bit, closing his eyes. Alia moved over to stroke his neck gently. "Yes, it is her. It is Kylaryn."

"I hope you like it," Alia said, her voice barely audible. She truly hoped it would become a happy reminder for her dragon. She wanted ever so much to make him happy.

A ghost of a smile flickered across the dragon's muzzle. "It like it very much. Even if..."

"I know, Valyrym," Alia said. She crawled to his head and gently kissed his muzzle. "I know. I'm glad you like it."

Valyrym turned his head to look up at Alia. For a few moments, a strange sort of fear shone in his eyes, wet and unhidden. "I do not know what kind deed I must have done to have earned your friendship, Alia, but you have truly made my life worth living again. I...Alia, I..." Valyrym took a breath, and let it out in a sigh. "Alia, I dare not put my feelings for you to words, because I fear for what will happen to you when I do."

"You don't have to say anything, Valyrym," Alia whispered, then gently kissed the dragon's ear. "But...I...well..." She gave a nervous giggle. "I suppose I'd better not say it either."

Valyrym lifted his head a little more to lick her cheek. "Let us be superstitious together, then."

For a time, the two of them simply lay together on the floor of the dungeon. For those long moments, there was no one else in all the world but Alia and Valyrym. There was no other feelings than happiness, warmth, and love. Alia would have been happy just laying there in wonderful silence with Valyrym all day long. She would have done just that if not for the only other occupant of the dungeon eventually interrupting them.

"Hey! Water getting cold over here!" Vatch called out. "Bring clothes, yes?"

Alia burst out laughing. Valyrym lifted his head, growing at Vatch. "Are you sure I can't eat him?"

"No, Valyrym," Alia said, slowly rising back to her feet. "...I'm not sure."

That made Valyrym grin wickedly. As Alia walked over to get Vatch's clothes, Valyrym thumped his tail against the stone floor, still clutching Little Ky against his chest. "So what have you named this little beastie, then?"

Alia giggled as she walked past the dragon. "I call that one Little Ky."

"Little Ky?" A look of uncertainly crossed the dragon's muzzle. "I suppose there are worse names you could have given it." He held the toy out at foreleg's length for a moment. "She's not going to glare at me and judge me all the time, is she?"

"She certainly is," Alia said, still giggling. She reached the tub, set the clothes down nearby, then opened the sluice gate to start draining it. She turned away from Vatch to give him some privacy, and began to walk back towards Valyrym. "But only because she loves you."

Valyrym chuckled a little at that. He stared at the toy a little while longer, licking his muzzle. "This..." A note of nervous confusion crept into his voice. "This really is Kylaryn."

"Yes, I thought it was." Alia stood beside the dragon, resting a hand on his shoulder as he looked the toy over.

Valyrym scrunched up his snout, glancing down at Alia. "Alia, why is this Kylaryn?"

Alia laughed, shrugging. "I've no idea."

"This isn't Illandran, is it?" Valyrym sniffed the thing again. He scrunched his nose, and sniffed it harder. "This smells...familiar. I smell...I smell the rain on this."

Alia smiled, rubbing the dragon's scales. "The silver rain?" Alia's smile only grew. "Oh! I have something to tell you about that!"

Valyrym took a deep breath through his nostrils, pressing the toy right up against his nose. "Alia," Valyrym whispered, his voice growing tense enough to make Alia a little nervous. "Where did you get this?"

Alia wrung her hands together a moment. The dragon's sudden concern sent a chill rattling down her spine unrelated to the still-wet clothing she wore. "From a vendor. An Aran'alian vendor, actually. I mean, I know there's no Aran'alia anymore, but this person was from there. They had a wagon with silver rain painted on it and everything. And...I got to drink silver water! They were selling it, and..."

"Alia," Valyrym said sharply. Not that he minded Alia's ramblings, but right now he needed to focus. "An Aran'alian vendor was selling this?"

"No," Alia shook her head. "It was in the window, actually. I tried to buy it for you, but they said it was an antique. I...well...when I told them how desperately I'd like to get it for my friend, the vendor...well...I think she might have been...that is...she seemed to know who you were."

Valyrym pulled his head back a little, snorting. Then he found himself laughing, much to Alia's surprise. "I'll bet she did."

"Valyrym," Alia asked, reaching out to touch his pebbly scaled cheek. "What is it?"

"It is hope, Alia," Valyrym said, taking another deep inhalation of the toy. "You probably can't smell it. But this toy's scent is so familiar. It smells like the forests after the rains in spring, and it smells like the fields of wild flowers and it smells like sweet spices I have not smelled in so many years." Valyrym hugged the toy to himself, grinning. "Alia, this toy smells like Kylaryn. The scent is somewhat faded, but it is there."

It smelled like Kylaryn? Alia furrowed her brow, deep in thought. Did that mean that the woman had gotten it from Kylaryn herself? Or had Kylaryn given it to someone else who eventually gave it to the woman? That would explain how she knew about Alia's "friend". But...did that mean Kylaryn knew Valyrym was here? Trapped? Why hadn't she come to...well, that answer was obvious. Trying to free Valyrym by force would have been suicide for any number of dragons. But it still left so many more questions. It did convince Alia of one thing, though. She must have been right about the woman.

"Valyrym," Alia said gently, stroking his neck as he seemed lost in his own little world, beaming at the stuffed dragon who smelled so familiar. "There's something you need to know. I could be wrong, but I think I got that toy from a spy. I think she might be working with Aran'alian rebels."

"Death In The Night," Valyrym said as much to himself as to Alia.

"I think so," Alia said, though she wasn't sure the dragon was looking for someone to agree with him.

Valyrym gave a long sigh, and rose back up to all fours. He glanced down at Alia, speaking solemnly. "Then I have something to show you, Alia."

---

Chapter Seven

As Valyrym walked back towards his sleeping chamber, he glanced back at Alia. "Pick up Little Ky for me, will you?"

Alia scooped the toy up and clutched it to her chest. "Sure. But why don't you just carry her in your jaws like you carry Val Junior?"

Valyrym chuckled low in his throat, and shook his head, spines slightly raised. "That is hardly appropriate, Alia."

Alia just smiled. Must be some dragon cultural thing she didn't understand. Apparently a male dragon could carry a toy around that reminded him of his son, but not one that reminded him of a former mate. Perhaps it was because he'd never carry Kylaryn around that way? Maybe it was a gesture reserved only for children. Or, maybe it was because male dragons often bit female dragons on the neck when they mated.

Alia giggled, smirking to herself as she cuddled Little Ky. "Is it because biting a female on the neck is a sexual thing?"

Valyrym jerked his head up, glaring back at her through narrowed golden eyes. "Certainly not. It is just that..."

Alia cut him off. "Well I'd better not catch you humping Little Ky the way you hump those furs. Speaking of which, we need to get those washed later."

Valyrym muttered something in draconic that Alia couldn't understand. It was probably just as well. She smiled at him, ignoring the fact that he swung his tail spines almost perilously close to her face. She knew well enough now that the dragon was in perfect control of his tail at all times. He knew where she was, and he knew where those spines were, and Valyrym would never let them harm her.

As Alia passed by Vatch she paused to see how well his clothes fit. She'd gotten him a pair of blue breeches with a black stripe down the outside of each leg, and a black shirt with silver swirls across the shoulders. She hoped they'd look good against his dark fur, though in truth she had just been looking for something that might actually fit him. If she had her way she'd toss his old clothes into one of the tub's stoves as soon as possible.

"How look?" Vatch asked. The clothes were still too big. The shirt hung well past his waist, and the pants were baggy enough they were likely to fall down without a belt cinched tightly around them. Luckily, Alia had brought him one of those, too. Though Vatch didn't exactly seem to know how to use it. He'd figured out how to buckle it shut, but he'd done so after wrapping it around his shirt as if to hold both his shirt and his pants in place. He grinned at Alia, perking his oversized ears. "Is good, yes?

"Is close enough," Alia said with a giggle, gesturing with her free hand. "You've got the belt in the right place, but it's not supposed to go over your shirt. It goes around the waist of your pants, where those little loops around. Fit it through those, and then buckle it closed in the front to hold your pants up."

"Oh..." Vatch looked down at the belt, and slowly undid it. No sooner had he done so than his dark blue pants dropped to the floor, pooling around his ankles. Luckily the overly long shirt kept him covered. "Eeep!" Vatch squeaked, and crouched down to hoist his pants back up. But as soon as he let them go to try and work the belt through the belt loops, they fell right back down. "Is hard belt up pants!"

Alia burst out laughing, and set Little Ky on the floor. "Oh, here. Let me help you."

"Alia," Valyrym called back to her. "Stop playing with the rat and come along."

Alia called back to the dragon. "I told you to be nice to him. I'll be there in just one moment."

Valyrym snorted, clattering his tail spines against the floor. No sooner had Alia turned around, then a small, brownish cotton-stuffed dragon went sailing all the way across the chamber. Alia didn't even see Velvet Voskalar arcing towards her until it bounced soundly off the back of her head. Alia yelped in surprise and stumbled into Vatch, who stumbled backwards, dropped his pants again and then tripped over them. He gave a clipped yowl of his own, while in the background, Valyrym burst out laughing.

"Looks like you're not the only one who can hurl squishy-soft approximations of themselves at their friends!" Valyrym thumped his tail soundly against the stone floor once more, and then vanished around the corner before Alia could retaliate.

Alia rubbed the back of her head, chuckling to herself. "Such a brat." She looked down at Vatch, and offered him her hand to help him back up. "Alright, Vatch. Hold your pants up with one hand, and we'll get the belt threaded through with the other."

Vatch staggered back to his feet, grinning a little. "Fat dragon is crazy."

"Yes, Vatch, fat dragon is crazy." Alia took the belt. "I'll get this threaded through if you can hold your pants up."

It took a little doing to make it work. In the end, Vatch had to hold his pants up with his hands, while clutching the hem of his shirt in his teeth to keep it from falling back down and obscuring the belt loops of his pants. Alia deftly threaded the belt through each loop, and then buckled it closed at the front of Vatch's pants. She made sure to tighten it down enough notches to ensure the Urd'thin's pants wouldn't come back down until he wanted them to.

"Is tight," Vatch said, squirming a little in discomfort.

"Is better than your balls hanging out," Alia said with a giggle, then patted the still-wet fur atop his head. "Besides, in a day or two we'll get you fitted for custom clothes of your own, so that they'll fit you just right. For now though, I need to go talk with Valyrym. You're welcome to wander around down here while your fur dries. Don't go back upstairs without me though. We'll have to make sure everyone in the lower sections of the castle knows you work here."

Alia crouched down to pick up little Ky, then gestured towards the other bags and things they'd brought with them. "Feel free to help yourself to some of the snacks we brought." She shook her finger at him. "But not all of them. You'll get plenty of food from now on, so don't be greedy. Won't be long now till you'll have the money to go and buy food for your friends so they wont have to steal, either."

Vatch grinned and nodded happily. That would be a wonderful thing indeed. He fidgeted with his shirt a bit, then twisted his belt back and forth. He hoped he could still feel his legs by the time Alia got him new clothes. "Okay. I have look around then. Look at pretty things on wall."

Alia patted his head again, then made sure to pick up Velvet Vos before she turned away from the tub. With Little Ky under one arm and Velvet Vos under the other, Alia made her way towards the dragon's sleeping chamber. Helping Vatch with his clothes had proved enough of a distraction to convince her heart to cease the worst of its hammering, but her pulse still raced as she turned the corner beneath the old stone archway.

In his sleeping chamber, Valyrym was tossing things about. He'd made a little pile of books upon one section of his bedding. In another place, he'd pulled aside enough of his soft things to expose the stone floor beneath, revealing what looked like part of a large sigil carved into the stone there. As Alia entered, Valyrym had his head shoved into one of the wooden crates stuffed with a myriad of what she'd previously considered to be junk. He pulled his head back, tossed a few crumpled wads of parchment aside, and then stuck his muzzle back in the crate. When he pulled it back again, he clenched what looked like a very large, perhaps even dragon-sized chisel in his jaws. He tossed it over near the book pile, and glanced at Alia.

"About time. What were you doing, sewing the little rat a new pair of breeches?"

"No," Alia said as nonchalantly as she could. "He was dealing with a persistent erection, so I helped him out with it."

"You what?" Valyrym pulled his head back till his neck curled in an S. Then he snorted, narrowing his golden eyes to irritated slits. "Liar."

"It's only a lie if you believe it," Alia said with a giggle. "Otherwise it's just nonsense."

"You seem to be full of nonsense, then," Valyrym replied, chuckling to himself.

"Better than what you're full of," Alia said right back, smirking.

"Arrogance, foolishness, blood, and regret," the dragon murmured. Then matched Alia's smirk with his own, if only for a moment. "And not in that order."

Alia giggled again, holding up the two stuffed dragons. "I brought Little Ky. And Velvet Voskalar. He didn't appreciate being used as a projectile."

"Neither does Val Junior, but that doesn't seem to stop you."

"Good shot though," Alia said, ignoring Valyrym's own comment.

"Thank you," the dragon said, grinning. Then he waved his paw in the air. "You may as well get fetch the others. It is time to convene my war council."

Alia smiled. It took her only a few moments to gather up the other dragons. Soon she had returned, and settled them all in a semi-circle at the side of Valyrym's bed chamber as though they were all watching the proceedings. No sooner was she satisfied with the way she'd set them up then Valyrym thrust an empty glass vessel into her hands.

"Here. Now go fill this up with that lovely rum you bought me.'

Alia took the container, resisting the urge to break it over his head. "What am I, your servant?"

"Don't backtalk Alia, or you shan't get any of my rum."

"Keep it up, Lizard, and I'll send it back."

Valyrym leveled a playful glare at her, flaring his wings a little bit. "That is hardly any way to talk to the former General of the Aran'alian army."

Alia giggled at that. "You'd scarcely be the general of your own scaly ass."

Valyrym glanced back at his rump, grinning. "Yes, well. I did get to boss around a few other dragons for a while. Just fetch the rum, will you?"

"Very well, my general." Alia gave an exaggerated bow.

Alia soon returned once more, this time with a glass bottle filled with golden rum. When she arrived, she saw that Valyrym had taken Little Ky and moved her to the head of his bed, along with Val Junior. Now it looked as though the two of them were either engaged in deep conversation with Valyrym, or perhaps scrutinizing his every move. Alia brought him the bottle of rum, and he took a long swig from it.

Alia watched the way he tilted it back to his muzzle, pouring the liquid down his throat without spilling a drop. Not bad for a creature with a mouth not designed for drinking that way. "You're pretty good at that."

Valyrym licked his muzzle, and passed the bottle back to Alia. "You'd be surprised what skills you learn spending years of your life in a human village. Comes in handy when I've only a limited quantity of something and don't want to waste it."

Alia took a drink as well, and then stopped the bottle up before setting it down as the rum spread warmth through her chest. "I can understand that."

The dragon went back to rummaging through another crate, and Alia peered around a little. She walked to the pile of books he'd set aside. One of them was Of Poetry. Alia crouched down and picked it up. She ran her fingers over the faded golden lettering on the red spine, and touched the embossed roses that decorated its cover. Alia carefully opened the book, and delicately began to page through the poems. She scanned a few of them, giggling when she came across "Burn, Burn, Burn." Valyrym glanced back at her, scowled a bit, and tossed aside the crate he was digging through in favor of another.

"I see you really did write your first poem in here," Alia said, grinning at him.

"Amaleen made me," the dragon muttered. "Where did I get these?" He pulled out what looked like a ragged, purple and gold pair of breeches.

Alia burst out laughing. "Oh, found your old pants did you? Rather doubt those will fit you any more, with all that cake you're eating lately."

"Oh, get mounted Alia." Valyrym tossed the old breeches aside.

"Really though, you've amassed yourself quite the hoard here. Sounds just like your old collection. That is, you can't remember half of what you've got, and you don't even know where it came from." She grinned at him. "Trust a dragon."

"Ah HAH!" The dragon finally gave an exultant cry. "I knew it was in here somewhere."

"And just what is that, hmm?" Alia cradled Of Poetry to herself as she moved to join the dragon.

"You said there was silver rain painted on the side of this wagon, where you got Little Ky?" Valyrym turned his head to regard Alia with his golden eyes. His spines were flared just slightly in interest.

"Yes, along one side of it."

"And was it painted like regular rain, or where there large, fat droplets depicted individually?"

"Larger droplets, I think," Alia said, hugging the book to her chest. "Why?"

"Did they look like this?" Valyrym pulled a small painting out of the old crate.

The dragon offered Alia the painting. Alia tucked Of Poetry under her arm and took the little painting. She carefully looked it over. The canvas was painted with a sky blue background, and over the top of that was a single raindrop. The raindrop was quite large however, taking up over half the painting. It was a bright, shining silver in color, and its shape was heavily stylized. The bottom of the raindrop was more of a crescent shaped arch then it was circular, and the top of the rain drop came to a sharp, angular point. The painting was surrounded in a dark wooden frame. It certainly looked familiar.

"Yes, I think they did look like this." Alia scrunched her nose a little, glancing up at the dragon. "At least, I think they did. I wasn't exactly looking at them with an artistic eye, after all."

"Then you are right," Valyrym said, and gave a little sigh. "That woman was a spy."

"You can be sure of that just because of a raindrop?"

"Because of this raindrop, Alia." Valyrym tapped the painting with a single claw. Then he gestured towards Little Ky. "And because of her."

Valyrym stared at Little Ky around the side of his body for a moment. He licked his nose, shook his head a little. He missed her, now. After a moment, he collected himself and turned his attention back to the painting Alia was still studying. He unsheathed a single claw, and ran it around the edges of the rain drop.

"The crescent of it represents the blade of an axe. The point at the top represents the point of a spear. And the fact that those things are themselves hidden within a silver rain drop..." The dragon chuckled to himself, scratching at the plates of his chest. "Well, that part should be obvious even to you, Alia."

Alia held the painting in one hand and smacked the dragon on the shoulder. "So this symbol..."

"...Is so they know each other." The dragon answered before she finished her question. "I was told the idea is that they would become as unpredictable, and yet as ever present as the silver rain itself. Illandra would never know when they would strike, or how they would strike. Only that they would strike again, and again, and again."

Alia stared at the painting. A hundred thoughts ran through her head all at once, and she could not find a way to sort them out. Just as she felt a question making its way across her tongue, another one jumped ahead of it and jumbled up all the words before she could spit any of them out.

"I was told that what I started would never end," Valyrym said softly, staring at the painting. "That Death In The Night would come and go with the silver rain for as long as the rain would fall, that they would strike at Illandra time and again like a silver tide ebbing and flowing. Like storms rolling across the land until Illandra's stain was at last washed away."

"Is that...is that where you got this?" Alia gently set the painting down on one of Val's shelves, and pulled the book out from under her arm. "And this?"

Valyrym slowly nodded. "From Death In The Night, yes."

"So they knew..."

"That I was buried alive in a hole beneath the heart of my enemy?" The dragon gave a bitter growl, baring his fangs. For a moment, old anger smoldered in his golden eyes. The fire that flashed there was brief, but it burned quite brightly. "Oh yes. They knew." Then he gave a low sigh, shaking his horned head. "Not that there was anything they could do about it, even if they wanted to."

Valyrym reached out and gently plucked Of Poetry from Alia's hands. He made his way back to his furs, smoothed a few of them out, and settled down atop them. He gestured at the other pile of books he'd set aside, as well as the chisel, and without complaining Alia fetched them all. She sat down next to the dragon, and leaned up against him. After a moment, he enclosed her in his fore leg, and curled his neck to press his head against her.

"Your heartbeat sounds beautiful, Alia," Valyrym said, murmuring.

Alia smiled and gently stroked his neck, and his muzzle. "Yours lulls me to sleep, you know."

That made Valyrym smile. For a few lovely moments, he simply rested against Alia. He set the book down, and put his paw atop it, gently stroking the well worn cover. Alia reached out and caressed the back of his paw, smiling.

"I'd been wondering how you got that book back. Kylaryn had it the last time you saw it, right?"

"Yes, she did." Valyrym lifted his head a little, chuckling to himself. He turned his golden gaze to the stuffed blue dragoness watching him from nearby. "It has been a while, hasn't it old girl. To think that after all these years, Death In The Night has finally returned to Illandra. Seems they've almost forgotten about me, doesn't it. At least they thought to part with you, to bring me company." Valyrym smiled at the toy, and finally gave an unusually happy sounding laugh. "Oh, you're still out there, aren't you Kylaryn. You lovely old thing. What've you got your paws wrapped up in now, hmm? I hope you've kept our son out of it, whatever it is."

Alia kept quiet, just giggling now and then. She stroked the soft, fine scales along the back of Valyrym's paw, now and then rubbing a few of the larger ones across his knuckles. She let her hand slide up his leg, caressing the smoother scutes that covered the front of his limb. She could not help imagining a sword deflecting across them. What a sight it would have been to watch Valyrym in battle. Though Alia thought he might perhaps have embellished his own combat prowess just a little, she could not help but imagine how awe-inspiring it would have been to watch him tear through an army as he had many times over.

"I think it was close to ten years," Valyrym finally said, drawing Alia from the vast and fertile fields of her own imagination.

"Hmmm?" Alia blinked and glanced up at the dragon.

"Are you listening, or day-dreaming, Alia?" Valyrym snorted at her. His hot breath washed over her face and sent her black tresses billowing about.

"I was imagining you in battle actually." Alia smiled at him, reaching up to stroke his chin a little.

"Oh," Valyrym said, pleasantly surprised. He tilted his head back, smiling. "And how did I look?"

"Magnificent."

"That is good to know," the dragon said, purring a little as Alia rubbed his throat. "I was saying I think it was close to ten years."

"What was?"

"The amount of time before Death In The Night found me," the dragon explained. He licked his nose, flicking his gaze towards the air vent above his sleeping chamber. At least it wasn't raining. "I think I was in here about ten years before I heard someone calling to me from that vent. Mind you, I'd heard people call to me before. Guards, gawkers, brave and foolhardy children, men trying to impress their women and women hoping to outdo their men. Many times before people had come to those air vents and called out to me. Some of them teased me, others insulted me, others simply wanted me to come closer for a better look. I paid them all little heed unless it amused me to reply. But this...this was different." The dragon unsheathed his claws, and lightly dragged them against one of his sleeping furs, ruffling it up in organized lines. "Someone woke me in the middle of the night, by calling my name."

"Oh!" Alia sat up straight a moment. "That must have really shocked you."

"It did, actually," Valyrym admitted, grinning to himself. "Obviously I hadn't given anyone my name since I'd left Sigil Stones. Some of the dragon slayers they'd hired before, to aide in my capture, told the Illandrans the importance a dragon places upon his name. Thus, they wanted to get it out of me. A few times, while I was still chained up, they tried to twist it out my fingers and toes. When that didn't work, they tried to squeeze it out of my balls. I still would not give it up. Once the king had issued his edict declaring an end to my torture, they did not get another chance for some time.

"Later, after the king had killed himself, my new warden came down and asked me my name. When I refused to tell him, he summoned one of the dragon slayers who helped transport me. I remembered him well. He told me he was going to make me respect my new warden and reminded me he knew how to make a dragon hurt. I reminded him that the last time he'd hurt me, I was still chained to a stone slab. I then reminded him that I knew how to make a man die when I put my tail spines through his face."

Valyrym allowed himself a wry little grin. "I asked the warden if he had any other questions I could answer for him, and for some reason, he never ventured back into my home again."

Alia giggled to herself, stroking the dragon's neck. "So no one ever learned your name, and yet someone at one of your air vents knew it."

"No one ever learned my name from me, anyway," the dragon admitted. "They might well have tortured it out of some poor Aran'alian. But if they had come to know it, I certainly never heard them use it. So, yes. To answer your question in a very long winded way, I was very surprised to hear some human calling my name from outside my prison."

Alia gently rubbed one of the dragon's spiny frills, her fingers sliding back and forth against the thin membrane between the spines. The sensation soon had Valyrym purring to himself. "That's alright, Val. I'm used to you being long-winded by now."

"Hmph!" The dragon gave a snort. "Be that way, and I shall not tell you any more of my life's adventures."

"I was under the impression you'd already told me them all, anyway."

"Yes, well..." Valyrym shifted himself a little, rustling his gray-edged wings against his body. "I could still tell you about my younger days, back in the clan." He chuckled to himself, and stretched out his tail behind his body, yawning a little. "Anyway. I half thought I was dreaming when I first heard someone calling out Valyrym, Valyrym."

"Did you know them?" Alia asked, tilting her head a little. "I mean, was it an Aran'alian that you knew personally?"

"No," Valyrym shook his horned head, thumping his tail spines against the furs and blankets. "All those I would have known were still in Aran'alia. But as it turned out, though the tide of war had turned against my homeland, they were still holding their own at the time. And to help make up for my loss, Namar had continued expanding Death In The Night. He had begun to infiltrate deeper and deeper into Illandra. And the deeper Illandra pushed into Aran'alia, the more cities and villages they took, the more refugees they created to wander the world.

"And beyond that, just as Illandra had turned Aran'alians against us in Amaleen's murder, so too had Namar managed to turn Illandrans against their own empire. As it turns out, people did not appreciate having their family members forcibly conscripted in order to go and fight a war to conquer someone else's land. So even as Aran'alia was slowly crumbling piece by tiny piece, Namar was putting together quite the network of infiltrators and spies. Imagine their surprise when they discovered that the dragon they thought long dead, was in fact not only alive, but held prisoner right in their enemy's underbelly."

"If they thought you were dead, it was probably almost as much a surprise to them as it was to you," Alia said, rubbing the dragon's neck. She leaned back against his chest plates again, tilting her head back against him.

"I can only imagine." Valyrym chuckled a little. "Over the next few years, they did what they could to stay in contact with me."

"So that's where you got all this stuff," Alia giggled. "And here I was believing your stories about trading with so-called mages and Urd'thin and sympathetic guards."

"Oh no," Valyrym said, smiling a bit. "Those stories are true. Most of what I have here was in fact brought to me that way. I think I got more of it from Urd'thin than anyone else, actually." He gestured to all the soft things the two of them were sprawled upon. "These were almost entirely smuggled to me by the Urd'thin, as were many of the books, the rum and so on. Some of the other books came from mages, though I find it foolish to call them that. After all they've as much "magic" under their control as I do. But they seem to think if they spend their days researching it and trying to discover if it ever existed in a form that could be manipulated, they get to call themselves a mage!"

Alia giggled, and playfully poked the dragon's scales. "You're rambling, Valyrym."

"Oh. Right." The dragon snorted, and grinned at her. "Anyway, these not-so-magic mages provided me most of the writing supplies and things I used to continue writing in my poetry book, as well as a few other books and things. Parchment to sketch my carvings upon, that sort of thing." He clicked his teeth, hissing. "Idiots wanted my blood in return half the time. Luckily for them I had plenty to give."

"You mentioned that before. You suppose it had anything to do with the fact you grew up drinking silver rain?"

"I assumed they just wanted a chance to study dragon blood. I never thought they were wise enough to know anything about the silver rain." The dragon chuckled to himself, then flexed his wings. "Anything is possible, I suppose."

"What about the shelves?"

"Ah, the shelves..." The dragon gestured to the old bookshelves of burled walnut and other dark woods that held his books. "Those I had guards build for me. Just like the Urd'thin, they were able to pawn scales and other odds and ends for quite a bit of money. And they soon found it was not a very...healthy idea to try and take such things from me by force. Better that they do a little work and keep their mouths shut in return. Of course, I didn't tell them that I was going to use those shelves to hide the tunnel there from the next group of guards."

"The guards didn't care about that?"

Valyrym chuckled and tossed his head. "No. They were idiots. As long as I was cooperative, and gave them things that they could use to make money, they didn't really care what I did." He smirked, gesturing with his nose to the tunnel entrance hidden away behind the shelves. "Of course, while they knew that I was too large to fit through there, they had no way of knowing that I had Urd'thin smuggling me things in through the tunnels, let alone that I was inviting Aran'alian rebels to come and visit me."

"You had them visit you?" Alia giggled, and rubbed the dragon's nose. "Isn't that sweet. Just like old times!"

"Hardly," the dragon muttered. "But they were running a big risk getting caught by bringing things to my air vents. Guards did patrol the grounds after all. I thought if I had the Urd'thin show them the way through the tunnels into my prison it would be safer for everyone involved. I think they actually formed quite the alliance with some of the Urd'thin. After all, the Urd'thin naturally held no love for the average Illandran, and they too had to operate in secrecy. So the rebels and Urd'thin had something in common. The Urd'thin were more than happy to assist a secret rebellion, I think."

"So you actually had Aran'alian rebels wandering the halls of your home?" Alia's voice was filled with a mixture of disbelief and amazement. She'd never have imagined half the things this old dragon had wrapped himself up in when she first met him.

"Oh yes," Valyrym said softly. "They were quite interested in this place."

"Why would they be interested..." Alia trailed off. The answers suddenly seemed so very obvious.

Valyrym pointed it out in his usual way nonetheless. "Oh, I don't know," the dragon said, waving his paw in the air as if struggling to think of an answer. "Perhaps because of the stairway that leads directly into the castle. I don't suppose rebel agents would be at all interested in that, do you?"

Alia snickered and swatted the dragon's neck with a paw. "Alright, you big sarcastic ass."

"I thought it was scaly ass?"

"It's both." Alia glared at him a moment. "And it's going to be sore ass if I have to go and get that tray to paddle you again."

Valyrym just laughed a little. "Anyway, they were quite interested in having a tour of my home and a look at the staircase you so often traverse. Though, I think the idea of a sneak attack on the royal family proved far more enticing than the actual possibilities. For one thing, it is my understanding there are several heavily reinforced gates along the way. For another, at the top of those stairs, there was once a very large guard regimen stationed there at all times. It may not be the case now. And beyond that, the narrow confines of the stair case would make it difficult for them to mount a serious attack on that guard station if they were unable to escape the stairwell itself prior to the attack."

Alia pursed her lips, nodding. She hooked some black hair behind one of her ears. "That would make it difficult, yes."

"Yes, it would," the dragon agreed. "But they still had other ideas. They were here in the city reason, after all."

"To attack Illandra?"

"Among other things," Valyrym murmured, glancing at his air vent. "They were here for the same reasons Death In The Night was anywhere. To sow chaos. To slay Illandran soldiers. To force Aran'alia into the nightmares of the men who were taking it from them. They burned down guard posts and military checkpoints in the night. They stationed hidden archers to take shots at officers during whatever parade they had going that month. They spread rumors in the taverns and the streets that Illandra was losing the war, that dragons had slain thousands of men. And they gathered every bit of intelligence they could on Illandra's troop movements, morale in the city, Illandra's plans, trade routes, anything they could get their hands on they sent back home. If they were to be believed, over the years they were able to infiltrate some very high ranks within the Illandran leadership. Apparently, not everyone of royal blood or noble lines back then was in agreement with the war. But they were always looking for something..." The dragon licked his nose, and smirked. "Something bigger."

The dragon pointed to the stack of books sitting nearby. "Open that one. The one about economics."

Alia stretched herself out and pulled the book into her lap. She opened it a few pages in, and began to read at random. "The model then shows that with proper allocation of said resource, growth can be projected to increase on a quarterly basis..." Alia made a face. "Ugh. This book is dryer than Thomas' wit."

Valyrym smirked. "I couldn't tell that he had any wit to begin with. But the book is not meant to be entertaining. Go to page one hundred forty two, please."

Alia leaned back against the dragon's chest plates once more as she skimmed through the pages. When she reached the page in question, she gave a little gasp. The pages there were filled not with words, but with lines and numbers, angles and squares and archways and other geometric shapes. "What is this?"

"Place it on the ground," Valyrym said, then pointed to another book. "Open that book to page seventy eight, and lay it directly beneath the first book."

Alia peered at the dragon in suspicion, wondering what he was playing at. But she did as he asked, and opened the book to the pages he indicated. She was less surprised than before to find it was covered in more lines and shapes and numbers. Alia lay it down beneath the first book, and when she pushed them as close together as she could, she realized the images aligned and intersected precisely. Valyrym soon pointed out a few more books, told the page numbers and where to place them, and before long Alia had them all lined up against each other.

Alia stared at the assembled image, trying to figure it out for a moment. "It almost looks like a map."

"Close," Valyrym said, grinning to himself. "It is a blueprint. Or, at least a cross section of one. It carries all the pertinent information, anyway."

Alia reached out and ran her hands across one page, grinning to herself. Damn sneaky Aran'alians. Even if the Illandrans had found one of these books, and found the page with the image, it would have been difficult for them to tell what the hell it was aside from more Aran'alian sigils. Even if they'd found them all it would have been difficult to put them together properly. Even seeing it aligned correctly Alia still wasn't sure what it was a blueprint of.

Then a long set of lines on a diagonal slope caught her eye. "Wait...those almost look like..."

"Stairs," the dragon explained, running a single finger along them. "Those are the stairs leading into my prison. And these struts here are actually the pillars that line my home. As you know, my prison was actually constructed long before much of the current castle that sits above us. Though the Aran'alians believe that the current castle was constructed in such a way as to heavily incorporate the original citadel that sat upon this spot."

"Why do they believe that?" Alia asked, still peering at the odd blueprint. Something was tugging at her mind. An ephemeral cloud of an idea she couldn't quite grasp. It almost seemed better that way.

"Because this central structure here," the dragon said, tapping a set of rooms and walls. "Is all part of the original citadel. They have built the castle up around it, even incorporated it as a set of support structures for much of the current building."

"...Why does that matter?" Alia asked. Her mouth suddenly felt quite dry. She had to ask the question yet she feared the answer she was knew was coming.

"Because all those pillars in my home, Alia." The dragon waved back towards the primary chamber of his prison. "Those arches above them are designed to help bear a heavy load. Whatever this place was, be it a cathedral or some grand hall of an underground castle, it was very important to the old Illandrans. A great chamber carved into the bedrock of the earth itself, with pillars not only incorporated for their majesty but designed to bear those arches which in turn bear the weight of the ceiling above them. The pillars are support structures you see. That is why this place is so large, so sturdy, so well built. The original designers knew their grand hall would have to help bear the weight of the castle above them, and they have done such an excellent job that it persists hundreds or thousands of years later, as a far more massive castle now sprawls above us."

Valyrym paused a moment. When Alia just gave him a blank stare, he burst out laughing. "All those pillars Alia. Kept down here, away from the elements, away from erosion. Because if those pillars crumbled, then the castle would crumble with them." Valyrym made a show of slashing a few claws across the depictions of the pillars. "The pillars fall." Then he dragged his claws down the center of the blueprint. "And the castle falls with them. They unknowingly imprisoned me in the most vulnerable part of their entire castle, and yet, I had no way to take advantage of it."

Alia slowly drew in a breath. Her heart hammered and her face felt hot. "Are you...really sure that would happen? The whole castle would collapse?"

"Well, probably not the whole thing." The dragon chuckled to himself. "Maybe not even half of it. But this section here..." He tapped the blue print. "Do enough damage to the support section and it will topple in on itself like a sinkhole in the rain. As it falls into the chamber out there, then these walls here will fall inward...and from there, who knows how much of this place would finally come crashing down around them."

"But...all those people..." Alia swallowed hard. "Val, there are residential sections in there, there are a lot of innocent..."

"Alia," Valyrym said sharply. "Before you get too carried away with the what-ifs, I should point out that obviously nothing ever came of this theory. And in truth...it is just that. A theory. For all I know, we could have brought down every one of those pillars, and the castle above us would have barely even creaked. The Aran'alians seemed certain it would work but...as I said, it was only a theory."

Alia rubbed her face, and let it a long sigh. "So that was Death In The Night's plan?"

"That was the plan I was privy to, anyway. And at the time, I quite liked it. They had struck us in our heart, and I thought it an excellent way to strike back at theirs."

"How in the hell would they have brought down those pillars, anyway? That would have taken a hell of a lot of hammers, and..." Her eyes fell to the large, dragon-sized chisel that sat nearby. "...Chisels."

Valyrym smiled as she seemed to catch on. He pointed to one of the books. "Flip to page two hundred twelve, please."

Alia did so, and found herself presented with another image. This one was a drawing of a pillar, like those found all through Valyrym's prison. Lines were scribed up and down its length in long, graceful arches that swooped back and forth. It almost looked like a stylized indication of rivers curving back and forth as they flowed down the pillar. Beneath it, an old inscription read, Sigils for guiding vertical flow.

"Vertical flow of what?" Alia asked aloud, though the answer was forming in her head even as Valyrym spoke it.

"Primal." The dragon looked down at the image. "They wanted to use ghost stones to bring down the pillars." The two of them were quiet a little while, and Valyrym scratched at his snout. "I think they got the ideas from my carvings. I'd already begun the waterfall, and the carving of Sigil Stones, and I think that put the idea in their head."

Alia let out a long, slow breath. The dragon gave her a few more pages to look at, and each one held a different diagram of a sigil he could carve in the stone to help direct the flow of the primal magic trapped inside the ghost stones. "So these images, they're actually used to control the magic?"

"In a manner of speaking."

"Where did they learn all this stuff? It didn't sound as though many of the Aran'alians really understood the way it worked." Alia looked up at the dragon, tilting her head.

"They didn't," Valyrym said, laughing bitterly. "I suspect they got this from Asgir, though I don't know to be certain. Very few people even know what the ghost stones could really do. During the war, Amaleen was very hesitant to use them as weapons because she was a little afraid of what might happen if Illandra learned about them, and captured themselves a few silver rain prisoners. Beyond that, they were exceedingly rare outside of Asgir's valley. I suspect with the way the war was turning against his people, Asgir threw his lot in with the remaining rebels in hopes of turning the tide." Valyrym rumbled low in his throat, pinning his ears back. "That is only my own guess, mind you." He gestured at the books. "But I wouldn't know who else would give them information on guidance sigils like that. Once they had spies here in the castle, I'm sure they sent back all sorts of blueprint information for him to analyze, look at weak points in the stone. Probably gave the old bastard and his beard an erection."

Alia was so taken aback by Valyrym's comment in such an otherwise serious discussion that she burst out laughing. She slapped at his neck. "Val, you're terrible!"

"Yes, and you like it," the dragon purred right back to her.

Alia giggled a little more, then ground her teeth in thought. She idly hooked her fingers around a few black tresses, twisting them around her hand. "How did they get all this information out to Aran'alia and back without being discovered? It must have taken months just to travel all the way out there and back, even with horses."

Valyrym shook his horned head a little bit. "No, Alia, the spies in Illandra stayed in Illandra. They sent messages back to Aran'alia, and to whatever other places they had embedded themselves in. After all, once they had secured themselves cover here in town it wouldn't do them any good to abandon it." A phantom smile flickered across the dragon's muzzle, and for a moment, amusement shone in his eyes. "They told me they had a winged messenger."

"Really?" Alia drummed her fingers against Valyrym's scutes in thought. "You mean a dragon?"

Valyrym flexed his wings, stretching one out lazily. "The possibility crossed my mind. Obviously not a dragon that came to the city of Illandra. But it's not an impossible thought that they had found some hidden grove somewhere a dragon could land in at night without being spotted, well out in the countryside. Delivering things to some runner who brought them to the city under guise of a merchant."

Slowly, Alia and Valyrym both turned their eyes towards the stuffed blue dragon who seemed to be watching them so intently. "It is only a guess," Valyrym said, almost under his breath. "But perhaps they still do."

"She misses you," Alia said without even thinking about it.

"You think so, do you?" The dragon asked, a bittersweet note creeping into his voice.

"She..." Alia began, then trailed off. Did she really want to tell Valyrym about the rumors of a dragon circling the city at night? "Yes. I do think so." Alia gestured at Little Ky. "You said that thing brought you hope. Do you...want to elaborate on that?"

"Do I ever?"

"You seemed to elaborate pretty well when I finally got you to open yourself up to me." Alia smiled at him and let her hand come to rest over the top of his paw.

Valyrym gave a sigh, gesturing towards the books. "Will you hand me Of Poetry?"

Alia retrieved the book, and reverently handed it over to Valyrym with both hands. The dragon took it in a paw, and put it up to his face. He slowly inhaled, his gray-tinged nostrils flaring. He could almost smell Amaleen on the book. Her scent was faded from the physical word, overwhelmed with all the other scents that had touched the book and lingered upon its leather and vellum, but in Valyrym's mind her scent was still there.

"I thought she was dead, Alia." Valyrym sighed, and began to delicately page through the book. "Until today, I often thought Kylaryn was dead."

"Oh..." Alia swallowed hard, her face reddening a little. For a moment she almost regretted seeking out that little blue stuffed dragon. "You hadn't...mentioned that. Only that you were hopeful..."

"And I was," the dragon said before she could finish. "Hopeful that I was wrong. Hopeful that somewhere out there, she not only lived but had found herself some great happiness. Someone to share her love with for all of her days. ...That she had raised my son strong and proud and free, and that despite what horrors had befallen our home, they were both alive and well."

Valyrym went quiet, staring at the book in his paws, open to a poem he'd written ages ago. Alia caught sight of the title before he turned the page. "Blue." The dragon continued to flick through the pages, and finally realized Alia must be waiting for a little more explanation than that.

"As you know, I told her I wanted her to have this book just before I left." Valyrym tipped his head towards the glass bottle of rum, and then opened his mouth. With a giggle, Alia poured a swallow of the rum down the dragon's gullet for him. "Thank you. This book...well, you see, this was one of the last things they ever brought to me. You were asking how they operated here without being caught? Well, the short answer is that they did not. Illandra is guilty of many things, but ignorance is not one of them. They knew well enough that Death In The Night was operating in their city, and it was only a matter of time before they caught them."

Valyrym paused, and opened his mouth again. Alia glared at him. "You're going to turn into a drunkard, Val."

The dragon's only response was an impatient growl through his opened maw.

Alia giggled, shook her head, and poured some more rum into the dragon's mouth. He gave a happy sigh, and looked down at the book again.

"One day, they simply stopped coming through my tunnel. By that point, their numbers had already thinned. Some of them had been caught, and I do not wish to think of what fates befell them from that point on." The dragon opened a wing, and pointed one of the talons that tipped it towards an air vent. "On rare occasions, a single spy would come and visit me through an air vent again. Usually under guise of some local fool dared to go and taunt the dragon. They told me that Illandra had discovered the entrances to the old tunnels and bricked them up, stationed guards all around them. It kept the Urd'thin from visiting me through those catacombs, and it kept Death In The Night from doing the same. Ironically, the theory was that the guards were just trying to eliminate the Urd'thin hiding places." The dragon gave a bitter, rumbling laugh, his wings shaking. "They didn't even know those spies were coming to visit me. At least, I don't think they did. If they cracked under interrogation and told them about their plans, Illandra must not have taken them seriously. I wasn't once questioned about Death In The Night."

"Illandra might not be ignorant, but they certainly are arrogant," Alia said, patting the dragon's foreleg. "Probably didn't think the Aran'alians were capable of such an attack."

"Perhaps," Valyrym murmured. "In any case, the visits from Aran'alians grew less and less, and I became aware that one by one, Illandra was rooting them out. Their grand plan to destroy the heart of their enemy would never come to fruition. In truth I had never expected it to. They talked of great revenge, but in the way of most, they were more talk than they were action. They were little more than blind men flailing about in the dark, and dreaming for the day when their blows would finally strike home. Though they had the plans, and they had me to carve the guidelines for them, they never once presented me with a single ghost stone. Nor were they sure how much of their blood it would actually take to bring down a pillar, let alone many of them."

"What about your so-called escape plan?" Alia asked, grinning.

"Ah," Valyrym said, smirking. "That was my idea. You see, as much as I liked the idea of bringing the castle above me crashing down into my prison, I was much less enthused by the idea of being crushed beneath it. I had already started to carve that Freedom sigil upon the wall they bricked up, but when they began rambling about bringing me ghost stones and offering their blood to guide the magic, I began to get other ideas. Such as the possibility that they were all mad. As well as the idea of escaping my own unpleasant death."

Alia stretched out and picked up the heavy, metal chisel. "And this?"

"They wanted me to ensure that I cut the lines deeply enough for the magic to truly burn its way through the stone." The dragon grinned at her. "Not that I had much use for such a tool without an equally sizable hammer, and wielding two such tools at the same time is a little difficult for a dragon."

Alia ran her fingers against the edge of the oversized chisel. "The freedom sigil. Is it actually designed to cut through a wall of stone like that?"

"Not that I'm aware of. But I couldn't help noticing the way the various lines intersect and lay against the stone. If Primal cut those lines deeply enough, I should think I could pull the rest of the wall down if it wasn't already blown apart." The dragon scratched at the side of his neck a little. "Not that it matters, since we have not even a single ghost stone to our name. Nor anyone who's blood is filled with silver rain."

Alia thumped the chisel against the meat of her palm. For a moment, she wondered just how much silver water a person might have to drink for it to start to change their blood. After all, Alia herself now knew the sweet taste of Aran'alian water. more than that, she knew where there was at least a whole barrel full. Not to mention a woman who's blood might well be purely silver rain. Not that she trusted that woman enough to bring her down to see Valyrym. Alia thought it was a shame her mother wasn't still around. She was as pure blooded silver rain as they came, and she would have volunteered her blood in an instant.

"How much blood do you think you'd need?"

"It is hard to say." The dragon flared up his spine a little, tilting his head. "They were never in agreement over how much blood would actually be required to fill the proper guidelines along one of those pillars."

"We're not bringing down any pillars, Val," Alia said sharply. She waved the chisel in the air like a scepter. "There are far too many innocent people in this castle, and you've more than enough blood on your paws already."

Valyrym murmured, his ears drooping against his head. He looked down at his front paws as if imagining the crimson stains spread across them.

Alia's heart leapt into her throat and froze there. Icy, clawed hands tied her stomach into painful knots. "Val, I didn't mean it like that, I..."

"I know, Alia," the dragon said softly. He shifted his head on his long neck until he could lick her cheek. "I know. Do not trouble yourself over it. But if we are not bringing down the pillars, what are we bringing down?"

"The wall," Alia said, still feeling the guilty sting of a self inflicted dagger. She hadn't meant to say that to Valyrym. "How much blood would we need to bring that wall down?"

"Considerably more than we have," the dragon chuckled, shaking his head. "more than I would be comfortable with any one person donating, I think. And we would need at least one ghost stone, of which we have none. Though..." the dragon softened his tone, and licked her cheek again. "Your concern for me, and desire to set me free does lift my heart, Alia." Valyrym stared at her a moment, his golden eyes shining with a sort of hope that Alia so rarely saw in them. Something else shone in them too, though Alia was afraid to call it love. Perhaps Valyrym's superstitions were rubbing off on her. "I hope you know that."

Alia smiled lovingly right back at him. She cradled his muzzle in both hands, and leaned forward to press her lips to the gray tip of his otherwise black muzzle. "I do." She stroked his cheek a few times. "Now...I seem to have distracted you. You were telling me about that book, and how you got it. And why you thought Kylaryn was..."

"Dead," Valyrym forced himself to say the word Alia couldn't. "This book was one of the last things I ever got from Death In The Night." Valyrym flicked through a few more pages then patted blank vellum. "It came to me quite some time after most of the rebels in Illandra were already rooted out. They had brought me a few things. Now and then they even brought me letters from Sigil Stones they hoped might bring me comfort. Telling me I was not forgotten, and all that other nonsense. In truth, I...I did not read them all. They may have meant them to comfort me, but...they were...painful reminders of what I had given up." The dragon's voice cracked, and he took a moment to collect himself. Alia stroked his leg and neck gently, cooing softly to him.

When Valyrym was ready, he went on. "But one night...I dreamt of the sound of wing beats. Soft, almost silent, unlike the wing beats I remembered. But it had already been so long I could scarcely remember what wings sounded like, anyway. But I awoke in the morning, padded out into my main chamber to see if my breakfast had been delivered yet...and I saw something sitting upon one of my ledges, where someone had managed to stuff it through an air vent. It was Of Poetry. There was little explanation, only a simple note tied to the book with a bit of twine. It simply said, "She wants you to have this". It was obvious who the note was talking about, and I took it to mean Kylaryn was going to do something very foolish, and wished to see this book put back in loving paws while she still had the chance."

Alia murmured in sympathetic thought. "I can't say I would have drawn a different conclusion. Especially after everything you told me."

"No," Valyrym shook his head. "I would think not." The dragon flicked his tail against his pile of soft things. A smile soon began to spread across his muzzle, gradually revealing his fangs like a curtain being pulled back from some display of weaponry. "And then you brought me this." The dragon reached out and grasped Little Ky, pulling the large stuffed blue dragon up to his snout. He sniffed it a few times, and sighed in contentment. "And it smells like her, and that means that somewhere, she must still be alive. And that...that means Valar is probably still alive, and that, Alia. That gives me hope."

"Everyone should have hope," Alia whispered to the dragon. They were Valyrym's words but she was glad to adopt them as her own. She reached up and rubbed his neck, smiling. "So she must have held that toy sometime, right?"

"Yes," Valyrym said, softly. In his mind he saw Kylaryn, older now but still vibrant and blue. She was curled up in some dark cave somewhere, with Valar all grown and off to find his own home. As she slept, she cuddled a simple child's toy. A relic from her days in the war, when she had taken over Death In The Night. Probably a gift someone had given to her back when she protected Sigil Stones. Perhaps even one of many such gifts. "Maybe they gave them out to children, during holiday celebrations. Little toy representations of the dragons who sacrificed so much to try and keep those people safe."

Alia realized Valyrym was off in his own little world, speaking his thoughts aloud. The old dragon seemed to do that a lot lately. Now and then he scarcely seemed to realize when his thoughts and words switched places for a little while. Alia had never noticed him doing it before she'd convinced him to spin her his tale, though. Had he simply been hiding it from her before? Maybe he had had just realized that Alia wasn't going to think badly of him for rambling. Or perhaps reliving all the best and worst moments of his life after trying to hard to bury them in his heart had changed him somehow.

Alia could only hope they'd changed him for the better.

Alia knew well enough there was a only a fragile framework holding the dragon's sanity together. The long years spent utterly alone and with no company but his own guilt-ridden thoughts had taken a heavy toll on the poor old beast. He was still perfectly coherent, and yet Alia still had the sense that it was a very delicate sort of cohesion holding his mind together. The pillars that held Valyrym's mind aloft were far more pitted and eroded than those that kept his prison intact.

And she had no way of knowing how a dragon's mind might fare with age. They seemed to have memories far sharper than any knife, filled with vivid images they could not forget or escape even when they wished to so desperately. Yet for a human, the older they got the more often their mind could be drawn to fits of fancy and the more likely they were to confuse those fancies with reality. Alia wondered if it was the same for dragons. Or did their minds bear a strain that only grew heavier with the years, holding so much wisdom aloft? What if a dragon's mind didn't go gradually over the years, but all at once when those supporting structures finally snapped under the strain?

Alia shook her head as if to banish the notion of it. Valyrym was still murmuring to Little Ky, and Alia reached out to cup his scaly cheek in her hand. Valyrym leaned against her touch, closing his eyes. She stroked his pebbly scales and the old dragon began to purr. Val had no intention of ever hiding his purr from Alia again.

"I bet you're right," Alia said, smiling at him. "They probably made a lot of toys to resemble Kylaryn and the others. The woman did say it was an antique, after all. Probably crafted them in Sigil Stones. I bet they even made one that looked like you!"

"Yes," Valyrym grumbled under his breath. "They probably called it, The Fool Who Left Us Behind."

"Don't mope, Valyrym," Alia told him gently, stroking under his chin. "You're supposed to be happy and hopeful right now."

Valyrym sighed, but when he pulled his head back to peer down at Little Ky, he could not help but smile. "You're right, Alia. Somewhere in the world, Kylaryn is still around. She has touched this toy within the last year, I would say. Perhaps more recently. Scent does not linger forever, and though hers is starting to fade from this thing, it is still clear enough to be unmistakable."

"I bet that woman knows where she is," Alia said through half-clenched teeth. "Maybe I should go wring some answers out of her neck." Alia giggled, though she was only half joking.

Valyrym smirked. "I would advise against it. If she is as much a spy as we believe, she's probably well trained and more than capable of handling herself against any number of guards."

"I suppose you're right." Alia shifted herself, rolling over onto her belly to look at Of Poetry.

"I should hate to have to break myself out of here to go break some woman's legs for hurting you, Alia." The dragon rumbled in amusement, then peered down at Alia a moment. "Would you like to...to see them?"

"To see who?" Alia looked back up at the dragon who was curling his neck around to smile at her.

"My family," Valyrym said, pinning his ears back sheepishly. "My..former...family. As close as I can come to showing you, anyway."

Alia giggled at him, her feet kicking idly at the air above her while she lay on her belly. "You're cute when you're flustered, Val. And I'd love to. Are you talking about the carvings on your timeline?"

"A little better, actually," the dragon said softly. "Keep flipping through the pages. I didn't realize this at first, but...before they returned Of Poetry to me, they...added a few things. There is a poem from...well, you can guess. But...I'd...rather you not read that, if...if that's...

"Val, that's fine," Alia murmured, stroking the dragon's muzzle when he lowered his head again. "I've barely even looked at your timeline because it didn't seem right to examine it without your permission."

"I shall have to walk you through it then," the dragon said, trying to gather up his composure. In truth he hadn't looked at the pictures Alia was about to see in ages. And he had certainly never shared them with anyone. "The first picture you will come to is Valar. By now he's an adult, but the picture is...well...someone wanted me to see how he had grown. He's certainly not an adult in this drawing, but he's depicted a lot closer to adulthood than he was when I left."

Near the end of the book, Alia came to a full page drawing of a young dragon. It was hard to gauge his size given that there was no other image to use for scale. He was quite the handsome little dragon, with his wings half flared, one hanging just a little awkwardly. Spines were just beginning to protrude from the tip of his tail, and his horns were a bit longer than the nubs she'd imagined based on Val's description. His hind limbs and feet looked just slightly too large for his body. Spines were flared around his head as if in excitement, and a huge, toothy grin was smeared all across the young dragon's muzzle. The image was done only in dark ink, but different shadings indicated where the blue coloration marked each of his limbs in different proportion, as well as his nose, wings and tail.

"He's beautiful," Alia said, warmth shining through in her smile and voice alike.

"Yes, he is," Valar's father agreed. Alia did not have to look up to know there was love shining brightly in his eyes. She could hear it oozing through his voice like warm honey. Valyrym reached out, and touched his paw pad to the image a moment, murmuring softly in his native tongue. "Vellarhaak, Ta'sooth."

Alia decided against asking the dragon what that meant. Instead, she simply followed his example, and gently ran her fingers against the image. "He really does look a little like you."

"You think so?"

"Mhm," Alia said, then touched the image over Valar's hind legs, smirking. "Your legs are too big for your body, too."

"Oh shut up," Valyrym muttered.

"Oh, my mistake," Alia giggled. "It's your ego that's too big for your body."

"I thought I told you to shut up."

"And your mouth," Alia said, completely ignoring the dragon. "That's far too big for your body."

"So are my balls," Valyrym snapped.

"No," Alia shook her head, giggling again. "Those are actually too small for your body."

"Oh get mounted by a gryphon," the dragon growled.

"A gryphon?" Alia blinked and glanced up at the dragon, grinning. "That's an odd fantasy to have, Val."

"Just turn the page, Alia."

Grinning, Alia turned the page to the image of Kylaryn. It was a larger image, spread across both pages so that Kylaryn's front limbs were on the left side of the book and her hind limbs on the right. Her wings were flared out above her back as if she were showing them off. She seemed to be smirking at the viewer, a trick Alia suspected she'd learned from Val. Even to Alia, her body was noticeably more curvy, agile, and simply feminine looking than Valyrym. Despite that she remained a very powerful, dangerous looking creature. Her spines and frills were less pronounced than Val's, and her tail had no spines at all. Again, the image was only in black ink but shaded carefully to reveal darker coloration along her back and paler along her belly.

"That is just how I remember her," Valyrym said, grinning. "And...now that I know she's still alive...I can appreciate the next picture all the more."

Alia gave the dragon an odd look, and slowly turned the page. Another image spread across two pages lay before her, and this one nearly took her breath away. It was also image of Kylaryn, but this time the dragoness was clad nearly muzzle to toe in elaborate armor. A helmet with stylized runes lay against her head, and heavy steel plates ran all the way down her neck, and throat, buckled around her with thick leather straps. A much larger breastplate covered her chest, and more segmented plates covered all her underbelly. Yet more protected her legs, and her tail. At the end of her tail lay heavier sections of metal with spikes affixed to them as if to imitate a male dragon's tail spines. Most of the plates that guarded her body had elegant, curving sigils drawn across them. An even more elaborate sigil was inscribed upon her breastplate. It was a sigil Alia had come to recognize.

Freedom.

In the image, Kylaryn seemed to be glaring right through the viewer, as if trying to pierce their very soul. Ready to fight to the death for the very freedom who's emblem she now bore into battle. She also looked strangely resigned to whatever fate lay before her. As if even in a still image, Kylaryn knew she faced a battle she would not win.

"That is..." Alia found she had no words for it.

"That is Death In The Night," Valyrym said, as if to finish her sentence. "That is Kylaryn doing as I tasked her with, and leading our people in my stead. That is not the armor we all had made for us, that is far more intricate and elaborate. I suspect there was a time when they had truly come to rally around her, and I fear that this image was drawn shortly before what she suspected would be her final battle. Before she sent this book off to find its way back to me. She knew by then, that while I yet drew breath I would never be able to return to her. And so she returned my most cherished possession to me, instead. Just before she left to fight her final battle for Death In The Night."

"That's..." Alia felt her throat clenching. She sniffed and wiped one of her eyes. Her heart felt tight in her chest. "That just seems so terribly unfair."

"Yes," Valyrym said in agreement. "It does. But..." He turned his brilliant gold eyes onto the stuffed blue dragon that smelled of his lost mate. "But it also now seems untrue. But...I never received anything else from her, or the others after that. Not until you brought me that toy."

Alia smiled up at the dragon, gently touching the image of the Freedom Sigil on Kylaryn's breastplate. "Maybe there's more to it than that. Maybe she wanted you to know that Aran'alia persevered. That she did as you asked, and lead Death In The Night in the protection of your homeland. This armor was clearly made by a very talented blacksmith who must have had access to a great forge. I think she was telling you that Sigil Stones remained free, and that she was leading its defense. She looks as determined as she does resigned, at least to me."

"I rather like your optimism, Alia," the dragon said with a little smile. He lowered his head and nudged Little Ky. "Especially as I now know that I have reason to share it."

Alia lifted her hand to gently stroke the dragon's neck. She felt as though she'd been granted enough of a view into his soul for the time being, and gently closed the book. She put it aside so that it wouldn't inadvertently be stepped upon, and then began to close the other books as well. She closed the book with the blueprint of the pillars last, wondering just how close Death In The Night had truly come to felling the castle of Illandra.

"Would you have done it?" Alia looked up at the dragon after closing the last of the books.

"I think you know the answer to that," the dragon murmured, stroking Little Ky's head.

"I think the answer would change depending on when I asked the question."

Valyrym snorted at the little blue dragon as though she were the one talking to him. "You see? I told you that you knew the answer. In my first decade or two here, absolutely. I would have brought this entire castle crumbling into ruin, and I would have roared that Aran'alia lives free as I did it. But in my later years..." Valyrym lifted a front paw and held it at arm's length as if examining it for stains. "I thought perhaps I had enough blood on my paws."

"You're right," Alia said, smiling. She rose to her feet, and wrapped her arms around the dragon's neck, hugging him tightly. "I did know the answer."

Valyrym gently rubbed Alia's back, savoring her warmth against his scales. "That is not to say I do not still think of it, now and then. Of sending this whole Gods-forsaken place toppling into the very pit in which they have buried me. And if I still had my flame, I would burn this city down around the ruined corpse of this citadel."

A bittersweet smile touched Alia's lips. There were days she would happily be the one setting the torch to straw and wood. "I think everyone imagines something like that now and then."

"Humans think," Valyrym murmured, a soft growl creeping up his throat. "Dragons act."

"You have already acted, Valyrym," Alia said, offering a gentle, non-judgmental reminder. "And look where it has lead you." She took a deep breath, and let out a sigh. "If I can get you out of here, Valyrym, I do so with one condition."

The dragon laughed, a rumbling sound that Alia could feel emanating through his body into hers, nearly rattling her to the core. "And what condition is that?"

"No revenge," Alia said simply. "You take to your wings, you leave this city and its people behind, and you fly as far from here as the wind will carry you. You take your last look at this horrid place, and you let it all go. The guards and the royals and everything they've done to you. The castle, the people in the streets...you leave them all behind, alive and unharmed. That is my condition, Valyrym. No revenge."

Valyrym thought about it quietly a moment. When he spoke, he did so with his frilled ears slightly perked, and his voice a silken purr. "I should have thought your condition would be that I take you with me."

"That's not a condition," Alia said with a little giggle. "That's a requirement, but it's a given."

"Would you really want to go with me?" Valyrym lifted his head a little, his neck curling into an S.

"Absolutely," Alia said without even a moment's hesitation.

"Even to an unknown fate? To live in some dank cavern for the rest of your days, if not to spend your life on the run with an old dragon, fleeing a legion of men carrying a multitude of sharp implements?"

Alia tilted her head back to let her sparkling green eyes meet the dragon's golden ones. She could not help but grin at him. Even when he was asking a serious question he seemed to find a way to let a little wit creep into it. "Yes, Valyrym. I would gladly spend my days fleeing all the sharp implements the world has to offer, so long as I did so at your side. Because, I have come to-"

"Don't say it," Valyrym said gently. "Bad things happen to people who say that to me."

"I think you're starting to let your superstitious rule you, Valyrym."

"Yes," the dragon said, hissing through his sharp teeth. "Because I am old and stuck in my ways. Humor me though, will you? You don't say it to me, and I don't say it to you. We both know it, and we can go on with our lives without me having another reason to fret for your wellbeing."

"Alright," Alia said, smiling. She didn't mind. She did not to put words to their love to know it was true. "Though, Kylaryn said it, didn't she? She's still alive."

"It seems she is," the dragon said with a little smile. "But there are other bad things besides death, Alia. I would consider losing the one you love to an obsession for revenge a bad thing. Knowing he is alive and you cannot help him. Raising your son on your own in a crumbling homeland you know in the end you cannot protect."

"...I see what you mean," Alia stroked the dragon's throat, and saw that he had turned his attention to Little Ky.

"Dragons act," he murmured under his breath. "She knows it as well as I."

"What are you talking about, Valyrym?"

"What are you planning?" Valyrym barely seemed to hear Alia. He licked his nose, then glanced at Alia when he realized she was waiting for some kind of answer. "Death In The Night. They must be here for a reason."

Alia nodded, still caressing the scales of the dragon's neck as if to keep him calm while the gears of his mind began to turn faster and faster. "I got a look at some documents from the kingdom's security apparatus."

"Did you?" The dragon pulled his head back, grinning. "Well aren't you just the little sneak-thief."

"I didn't steal them," Alia giggled, then a smirk twisted her rose hued lips. "I bribed my way into looking at them. I was trying to figure out why the Servant Master was making such a big deal about the difficulty of hiring new servants lately. It seems the guard is on high alert for Aran'alian rebels. They seem to think there may be a lot of them in the city, lately."

"I thought they'd flushed them all out," Valyrym murmured to himself.

"It sounds as though they're starting to infiltrate all over again."

"Perhaps," the dragon said, tapping a few claws against the floor. "Though I suppose when they started getting caught, some of them probably just...melted away. A populace of refugees would make an easy hiding place. And for those Illandrans who had joined their cause, they could have been anywhere in the city. Even in the castle, I should think."

"That would make sense," Alia said in agreement. "But the castle is looking for them now. Perhaps I should warn that woman. Her wagon practically screams Aran'alia."

The dragon tilted his horned head, grinning at her. "Which is precisely the point, I'm sure."

Alia furrowed her brow a bit. "What do you mean?"

"Her wagon is covered with images of Aran'alia. It has the Death In The Night raindrop all over it, you said." The dragon chuckled, flicking his spined tail. "I'm not certain they even use that emblem anymore. That wagon sounds as though it is the equivalent of someone walking down the street, wearing a sign around their neck that reads, I am a spy."

"So they're going to catch her."

"I rather doubt it," the dragon said, grinning wryly. "Think about it, Alia. What if you were a guard and you saw a woman with a sign around her neck that read, I am a spy? Would you think she was in fact, an actual spy?"

"No," Alia admitted with a little giggle. "I'd think she just crawled her way out of the asylum."

"Exactly. Her wagon is practically broadcasting the fact she's not only Aran'alian, but has no idea just how badly her people are looked down upon here." The dragon lifted his paw to rub his head between his horns. "She's a clever thing, really. A rebel spy hiding in very plain sight and doing a brilliant job of it." Then he blinked, as another possibility came to his mind. "Or, she really is a merchant from Aran'alia who just so happens to have been through whatever village or realm Kylaryn might have found herself living in."

"I'm starting to doubt that possibility," Alia admitted, picking up Little Ky. She pressed the soft blue toy to her face, and smelled it. She almost wished she had the dragon's sense of smell. She couldn't detect anything out of the ordinary, a bit of wood smoke from the woman's cooking fires, and that was about it. "I think she is working with Death In The Night, or whatever they may be calling themselves these days. I just wish I knew what they were doing here now."

"So do I," the dragon murmured. "As I was saying, Alia. Dragons act." He reached out and tapped Little Ky on the head. "Humans plot, and dragons act. They are here for a reason. The last time they made themselves known to me, they wanted to take down the castle itself. I do not think they would be here now if they were not here for something big. And whatever it is, whether she knows it yet or not, I suspect Kylaryn is wrapped up tightly in the middle of it."

---

Chapter Eight

In the days after Valyrym shared the things he'd obtained from Death In The Night, Alia was kept busy. Her first priority was to complete her hiring of Kaylen, Thomas, and Vatch. There were papers to sign, a Treasurer to negotiate wages with, notaries to have write and issue contracts, and much, much more. It was busy work, but it was work Alia was glad to be wrapped up in. It simply put truth to the idea that she could better the lives of her friends. Soon not just one but three Aran'alians and even an Urd'thin would have respectable, well paying jobs working directly for the Illandran castle.

Beyond the earlier episode with the Servant Master, Alia found she had little trouble hiring Kaylen and Thomas. Though not everyone seemed happy to have more Aran'alians rising to more successful positions there was little they could do about it. Alia had read her contracts carefully, and kept them with her as she made her rounds. Anytime anyone objected to her choice of assistants, she had but to produce the contracts and point out the clause that allowed her to hire whatever assistants she deemed necessary in order to provide both effective care and security with regards to the dragon.

Or rather, The Prisoner as the official documents offered to Valyrym. After all while Illandra no doubt held many prisoners in what was likely a myriad of dungeons, there was only one that was instantly identifiable as "The Prisoner." It seemed a rather cold, uncaring moniker but Alia had come to expect no better. And she knew well enough that Valyrym wouldn't allow his name to be recorded on any official document anyway, even if Alia wished to do so. So, The Prisoner it was.

A few times Alia was questioned on her actual need for assistants. Alia was ready for that as well. She had plenty of documented cases of former Wardens hiring anywhere from one to over a dozen assistants. Some of them had hired extra guards to keep watch over the dragon at all times. Others hired full time butchers. In at least one case, one of the wardens seemed to have hired a dozen men to assist in his own laziness, by making them do all the work. Alia of course had no such intentions, only wanting to lighten her own work load so that she could spend more time directly supervising the dragon.

After all, it had done wonders for his behavior so far. Alia was swift to point to her own record. Since she had taken over as the Dragon's Warden, there hadn't been a single instance in which he had caused any trouble or harmed anyone. On the contrary in fact, Enric was quick to verify for her that the dragon had been unusually and exceedingly cooperative in all regards since Alia's first day on the job.

In the end, the most resistance Alia encountered was opposition to hiring an Urd'thin. She could not say it was unexpected. If there was anything the Illandrans looked down on more than refugees from Illandra, it was the city's resident Urd'thin population. To most Illandrans, they seemed little better than vermin. They were like rats that had grown large enough to steal more than a bite of cheese here and there. But Alia stood her ground, and made sure Vatch did the same. After all, there were no laws on the books forbidding the hiring of Urd'thin at the castle or anywhere else. People simply had no desire to do so. But despite their distaste, no one at the castle could prevent Alia from hiring the Urd'thin. When they threatened to protest her actions Alia suggested they take it up with the Queen herself, since that was who Alia worked for.

To help smooth things over, Alia worked hard to teach Vatch to be as polite as possible to everyone he met, while also keeping a restful distance from those who did not yet know him. Alia also wanted Vatch to be as presentable as possible to work in the castle. Frequent baths and brushings would help with that, but so would new clothes.

To that end, when all the meetings were concluded and the papers were signed, Alia headed into town accompanied by her three newest assistants with the intention of having them all fitted for new clothing. Alia walked in the middle of their group with Kaylen on one side and Thomas on the other, and Vatch just sort of hovering around Alia.

At first Thomas was a little wary to be walking down the street alongside an Urd'thin, just as he'd been wary of the idea of working with one. But just as he had with Valyrym, Thomas was warming up quickly enough to Vatch. Kaylen, as expected, had wholeheartedly embraced the idea from the very beginning.

"You're such a fluffy little thing," Kaylen said with a smile, ruffling the fur on the back of Vatch's neck despite his grimace.

A good bath, a hearty brushing, and in a few cases a pair of scissors had left Vatch's chocolate and beige-brown fur looking lustrous and more than a little fluffed out, especially around his head and tail. Apparently Urd'thin could be quite the handsome little mongrels when their fur wasn't covered in filth and mats. He even looked a bit comical as his ill fitting shirt pushed up the longer fur around his neck and made it look as though someone had stuffed a well groomed but very fluffy hound into an old tunic. He still drew plenty of odd looks as they all walked down the main thoroughfare together but it was nothing the Aran'alians were not already used to.

Vatch tolerated Kaylen's ruffling of his fur for a while. When he couldn't take it any longer, he flailed ineffectually about, swatting at Kaylen's hands. "No more touch!"

"Oh, but you're so fluffy," Kaylen giggled, immediately running her hands through his fur once more.

"No mean no!" Vatch dashed away from her, trying to hide behind Alia.

Kaylen grinned wickedly, stalking him around the back of her friend. "If I'd known you Urd'thin could be so adorable under all that grime, I'd have started bathing you years ago."

"You'd have gotten your throat cut, and your coins taken," Thomas said, muttering.

"As if I had any coins to take, Thomas," Kaylen said, then scolded him. "And don't say such things. That's as bad as some Illandran fool saying we're all a bunch of thieves just because we're Aran'alian."

"You know what I meant," Thomas said, folding his arms over his slate gray tunic. "We all know Kaylen wouldn't go around giving baths to the kinder Urd'thin like Vatch here. No, she'd find the meanest, grimiest, stabbiest little mongrel she could."

"Did you just say stabbiest?" Kaylen blinked, and then burst out laughing. "That is horrible, Thomas! Horrible yet hilarious."

Thomas just grinned to himself. "You wouldn't think so when you met him. Why, he's the nastiest Urd'thin of all. Even the other Urd'thin steer clear of him. He's tall and strong, by Urd'thin standards. Why, he must be at least four foot and eighty pounds, or so. Smells as though he's rolled around in a urine soaked ditch, because in fact he has." Thomas waved his hand down an alleyway as if indicating the lair of this particular made-up monster. "They call him, Stench-Fur The Stabby."

"What means Stabby?" Vatch asked, peering at Kaylen from around Alia's back.

"Never you mind, Vatch," Alia said through her giggles. She patted Vatch's head. "Don't you pay Thomas any mind. He's never been quite right since the dragon whacked him in the head with his tail."

"Dragon hit in head?" He ducked around the other side of Alia to peer over at Thomas instead. "You lucky not dead."

"And you," Thomas said, reaching out to tap the Urd'thin on the nose. Vatch blinked and scrunched his muzzle. "Need to learn when people are teasing."

"He'll figure it out soon enough," Alia said, putting her arm around Vatch's shoulder. She'd decided to be as friendly to the little creature as possible. No sense in giving him a job where he wouldn't need his knives if he grew too lonely and miserable to want to stick around. "Now, we're almost there. I want all of you to be on your best behavior." Alia turned as though about to indicate Vatch, then with a grin she pointed right at Kaylen. "Especially you!"

Kaylen gasped as if mortified by the accusation. "I'm always on my best behavior."

Thomas laughed at that, folding his arms again. "You haven't even got any best behavior. You think best behavior means not threatening to kick anyone, and not stealing any food off someone else's plate."

"And as long as I don't do those things I'm behaving well, aren't I?"

"I don't think the old tailor is going to have any food to steal," Alia giggled, and shook her finger at Kaylen. "But if you threaten to kick the poor old sod I shall slap you silly then and there. And then I shall have Vatch bite you."

Vatch nodded and gnashed his teeth. "I bite!"

"Oooh, such a fearsome little thing," Kaylen said, soon chasing after Vatch. "I want to just squeeze your cheeks and pet your tail!"

Vatch ran circles around Alia, yelping. "No squeeze! Go away crazy lady!"

Alia couldn't help but laugh. She loved her friends. Even if Kaylen seemed to be climbing a little higher on the tower of exuberant insanity than usual. Alia caught her arm, grinning at her. "Kaylen, calm down."

"Yes, mother," Kaylen shrugged off her grasp, backed away and stuck her tongue out at Alia.

Thomas seemed to share Alia's thoughts. He smirked at Kaylen. "You're acting even more like yourself than usual."

"And what's that surprised to mean?" Kaylen put her hands on her hips, shooting Thomas a withering glare he proceeded to ignore completely. "It just so happens that I'm exceedingly happy because I know I get to work with my friends every day now! Every day when I had to stuff myself into that silly black and white servants dress I felt as though I had to lock myself away in a box and act like a different person. A boring person! And I only ever got to open that box and be myself again at night, when I was spending my time with you two. With my friends. Well, now I'm going to take that box and hurl it out of the highest window I can find! So yes, I'm going to let my happiness and excitement run free as often as possible."

"So long as that happiness doesn't break anything and get me banned from my favorite clothing store," Alia said, smiling at her friend.

Kaylen giggled a little, walking backwards while Vatch hid himself just behind Alia again. "And here I thought you said this old man likes Aran'alians?"

"He may change his mind if one of them ends up knocking over his clothing racks because she's chasing an Urd'thin all around his store."

"Yeah!" Vatch said, baring his teeth and perking his big ears. "You no chase!"

Alia turned and patted his head, then tweaked his ear a little. He gave a cute yip and Alia scolded him. "That goes for you, too. No running around in there, and keep your hands to yourself. I know old instincts die hard, but I like this man. He's kind, and he's always treated me fairly. I want you to give him a chance to treat you just the same, alright Vatch?"

Vatch nodded in agreement. "Yes. I be good. Is nice have someone be nice."

Kaylen giggled. "Oh, he's so cute when he talks."

"I think Kaylen has a crush on Vatch," Thomas said with a wry grin. "Are you going to ask him to bed you, Kaylen? Innocently enough of course. You'd just lay in bed braiding his fur."

"I think my knee's going to have a crush on your balls if you keep it up!" Kaylen tried to swat at Thomas's shoulder and Alia moved to separate them, laughing. "You two are like little children."

"Perhaps sometimes," Kaylen admitted, grinning.

"More like all the time," Alia replied, tussling up both her friends hair at the same time, much to their squirming dismay. "Now cut it out. You can both act like idiots again later when we go see Valyrym. Besides, we're here."

Alia waved her hand at the small wooden house in which the old tailor conducted his business. Kaylen wandered around for a moment, examining all the colorful murals. Each wall had a different mural depicting various people in fine clothing having a wonderful evening at a party, or a picnic out in the sun. The bright, cheerful images were a lovely contrast to the colder stone walls and austere structures that surrounded the old, cozy house on almost all sides.

"Hardly fits in," Thomas mused, then he smiled. "I like the place."

"As do I, Thomas," Alia agreed. "It almost looks as though its been transported here for another city entirely. Like they plucked up a house from Sigil Stones and dropped it right here in Illandra."

"Sigil Stones?" Thomas asked, tilting his head.

Alia offered him a sheepish smile as she walked towards the door of the shop. "That's the name of the city where Valyrym used to live, in Aran'alia. I don't think it's the city's original name, but that's what Valyrym knows it as. From the way he described it, it sounds ever so vibrant and colorful."

"Ah," Thomas said, smiling a little. "Sounds nice. Probably...not as nice now, though."

Alia scowled a little, flicking her green eyes across the various colorful murals. "Perhaps not. Anyway, come along."

"Vatch get door!" Vatch ran ahead of the others, opening the door to the sound of a jingling bell. Vatch held the door for the others. One of many little gestures of politeness Alia was teaching him that he was eager to practice.

"Thank you, Vatch," Alia said, smiling as she walked through the doorway. She patted his head.

Vatch held the door for Thomas and Kaylen as well, and entered behind them. The four of them all looked around, and Vatch made a little trilling sound. He'd never been allowed in a place like this before. The inside of the shop was cozy, albeit a little cluttered. Dark wooden shelves lined the walls, covered in all manner of colorful, folded clothing. There were racks standing everywhere. Some had dresses and skirts hanging from them while others had pairs of breeches and slacks. Another wall towards the back was covered with shelf after shelf of boots and shoes on display. The place smelled a little musty, though today the air was also lightly scented with a floral aroma. A vase of freshly cut flowers sat atop the counter.

It wasn't long before the jingling of the bells tied to the door drew the old tailor from the back room. His name was Paulson. Every time Alia saw the man he seemed to have gotten just a little heavier and just a little older. An obvious fact perhaps but one that seemed more noticeable of late. Alia almost wished she'd known the man when he was young, he must have once been one of the stronger men in town. She found it intriguing he'd ended up a tailor rather than a soldier or some well paid bouncer at a popular tavern.

Today he wore a dark green tunic with black buttons that were only slightly strained by his increasingly protruding belly. The older man also wore a pair of very dark golden breeches and simple brown leather boots that looked unusually well worn compared to his clothing. Unlike his shoes his clothes looked so new that he may have well just finished sewing them up for himself. He had even less hair than before, and Alia could almost see it turning from gray to white before her eyes. What hair he did have left clung to his head in such a frizzy way that Alia thought it wouldn't take much more than a stiff gust of wind to blow it all from his scalp like the fluff from a dandelion.

Any alarm the old tailor might have felt from seeing an Urd'thin walking about inside his shop was mitigated by the fact it was an unusually an unusually well-dressed Urd'thin that came in alongside Alia. She'd always been one of his favorite customers. She always seemed so cheerful and so kind hearted he simply could not help but like her, Aran'alian or not. Not that he was ever one to judge someone by their heritage or how many coins they had in their pockets. He'd happily sell to an Urd'thin if the furry little thing was legitimately looking to buy and had a nice enough way about them.

Case in point, he walked right up to Vatch and promptly patted him on his head. "Hey, Little Guy. Looking for some new clothes?"

Then he gave a boisterous laugh when Vatch seemed utterly perplexed. Before the Urd'thin had a time to react, the tailor turned towards Alia and wrapped his arms around her. Paulson gave the woman a hearty bear hug, hoisting her clean off her feet for a moment while Alia just laughed and squirmed. She kicked her legs in the air a little, much to the amusement of Thomas and Kaylen.

"Alright, alright, put me down ya old bastard," Alia giggled till the man finally put her down.

Thomas and Kaylen glanced at each other, uncertain for a moment. They'd heard Alia call Illandrans insulting names before, but never to their faces. For a moment Thomas seemed afraid the tailor would toss them both out on their asses. He stepped forward as though prepared to apologize on Alia's behalf and assure the man that she'd never said such terrible things before.

But before Thomas could even get the words out, the old man bellowed with laughter. Holding his paunchy belly with one hand, he put the other on Alia's shoulder, grinning at her in a manner that seemed to expose nearly all his teeth at once. "Old Bastard, that's a good one. Your old dragon friend teach you that one?"

"No," Alia shook her head, grinning back at the tailor. "My dragon friend is the old bastard. I guess I'm just so used to calling him that, it just slipped out."

"Well at least he hasn't eaten my favorite Dragon Tamer yet," the shopkeeper said, squeezing her shoulder and grinning. "How is the scaly old bastard then?"

"Grumpy," Alia said with a giggle. Then she gestured towards her friends in turn. "These are my friends, Thomas, Kaylen, and Vatch." She rubbed Vatch's head, not at all surprised to see the older man didn't have a problem with letting Vatch into his store. "They're also my newest employees."

"Oh, they let make your own hires, do they?" The older man smiled at her friends. "Glad to see you're still climbing that ladder."

Alia shook her head, her black tresses swaying. "Honestly I keep expecting them to yank it out from under me at any moment." Then she waved at the shopkeeper. "This is Paulson, the best tailor in all of Illandra."

Paulson gave a hearty chuckle, shaking his head. "Second best, maybe. Third best if I'm drunk."

That made everyone else laugh. Paulson looked them over, appraising each with a critical eye. "Let me guess, then. You've brought them all here to get them fitted for some new clothes?"

Kaylen smiled, idly twisting some of her hair around a hand. "How did you know?"

"Because that's the same thing Alia usually comes here for." Paulson laughed, and began to make his way towards the back room. "That, and she told me she was going to buy her friends some clothes the last time she was here."

"Oh, you little cheater," Kaylen said with a giggle. "She is very generous, though. Why, just the other day she bought me a lovely little array of stuffed dragons to decorate my room with."

"And cuddle at night," Alia said, poking her plump friend in the ribs.

Kaylen gave a little yip, and grinned. "And what's wrong with that? You cuddle a real dragon at night."

"Kaylen," Thomas hissed through his teeth. He wasn't sure just how much they ought to be talking about Alia and the dragon, much less in front of an Illandran. Even a friendly Illandran.

Paulson however, just laughed. "I wouldn't think all those scales and spikes would very comfortable to cuddle with."

"I steer clear of the spikes," Alia said with a giggle. "And you'd be surprised how comfortable the scales can be, when you're all snuggled up against them and the old dragon's purring like a big kitten."

Paulson laughed even harder, shaking his head. Thomas wasn't sure if he thought Alia was just joking about it, or if he knew the truth and simply didn't care. Either way he supposed it was alright. If Alia didn't care what they talked about in front of the tailor, than neither would Thomas. Though, there was something else he could tease Alia about.

"Alia never buys me anything," Thomas said as though pouting aloud to Paulson. "She's bought Kaylen all these little toys and not once has she brought something back for me."

Alia turned towards Thomas with a grin. "Aw, are you jealous, Thomas? Do you want a stuffed dragon to cuddle too?"

"Wouldn't hurt," Thomas said, playing along.

"Well tell you what." Alia turned back around so Thomas couldn't see her smiling. "When we get back to the castle, I'll tell Valyrym to spend the evening cuddling you. The real thing is better than some stuffed toy, anyway."

"You...what?" Thomas gulped. "No, that's alright, I don't think he'd appreciate that..."

Alia laughed. "Besides, I'm buying you these clothes aren't I?"

"You are?" Thomas felt a little guilty for a moment. "I thought we were buying them for ourselves..."

"I was going to buy them for you," Alia said, grinning. "But since you're acting like a brat, I think I'll let you pick up the tab for everyone."

"Sounds fair to me," Kaylen called back. "Have him pay for lunch too!"

Paulson was waiting at the door to the backroom. "Is anyone actually planning to be measured today? You can just stand around chatting if you want, I'm rather enjoying myself just listening in."

"Sorry," Alia said with a giggle, pushing Kaylen towards the back room. If she could get Kaylen back there the rest would follow suit.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," the somewhat plump young woman said. She smiled at Paulson. "I'd like something very colorful. Purple, perhaps. Purple is one of my favorites. And green! I do love green. But I don't think they'd go well together."

Paulson gave her a blank look, then started to laugh. He grinned at Alia. "I like this one."

Kaylen beamed. "I like me too."

"There's a surprise," Thomas muttered.

"Crazy people always like self," Vatch spoke up, as if in agreement with Thomas. Thomas grinned down at the Urd'thin, nodding.

Kaylen just rolled her eyes. "And only fools and people with too much sorrow in their hearts dislike themselves. If you can't like yourself you can't expect anyone else to like you."

"And who says anyone likes you, Kaylen?" Thomas asked, barely able to hold back his grin.

"Well Paulson here likes me," Kaylen giggled. "And so does the dragon. He even let me ride on his back!"

"Giving rides out to visitors, is he?" Paulson asked as he dug through a few drawers for his measuring tapes.

"Only for those he really likes." Kaylen stuck her tongue out at her friend. "Which excludes Thomas."

"Ah, guess that leaves me out, then." Paulson grinned. "Too bad, I'd have liked riding a dragon."

"Maybe we can get him to make an exception for you," Kaylen said with a smile, then glanced at Alia, hopeful.

Alia merely smirked. "Let's not press out luck too far just yet."

"Can't imagine the average dragon would be too fond of letting people ride him." Paulson walked around Kaylen, mentally measuring her first. "Then again, I've never met a dragon so I can't say as I know. Alright, Kaylen. I need to take your measurements. But if you're not comfortable with a bawdy old bastard measuring you up, I can have Alia take the measurements and just give me the numbers."

Kaylen only smiled at him. "Measure away, you bawdy old bastard."

"Oh, God," Thomas muttered under his breath, putting his face into his palm.

Kaylen turned to shake her finger at him. "You watch it, Thomas, or I'll knock your..."

Paulson interrupted her with a grin. "I'm going to need you to hold still while I measure you, actually."

"Oh," Kaylen said with a sheepish giggle. "Right."

Paulson smiled as he began to measure Kaylen. He took detailed measurements all across her body, muttering numbers to himself as he did so. When he'd fully measured Kaylen, he called Thomas over, and repeated the process. Once more he wrote nothing down, just mumbled under his breath the whole time. Finally, he called Vatch over, and much to everyone else's amusement, Vatch seemed far more nervous about being measured by a human than the man was nervous to be measuring an Urd'thin. As Paulson ran the tape around his body, Vatch began to fidget. Paulson took extra time carefully measuring the Urd'thin's legs as he'd never tailored anything for a creature with legs designed more like some animal's hind limbs than those of a man. Let alone anything with a tail. He tugged the tail out, measuring it, and Vatch yipped and pulled it away.

"Quit your squirming," Paulson finally told him.

Vatch whined to himself and pinned his oversized chocolate brown ears back against his head. "Is like he size me up for make rug!"

That only made Alia giggle. When Paulson was done, he patted Vatch on the head, grinning. "There, there. No one wants to make a rug out of you. You're too small for that! Your pelt would be better served as a welcome mat."

Vatch gave a squeak and ran off to duck behind Alia, which had the effect of causing everyone else to laugh at him more than ever. Paulson shook his head, chuckling. "You know, for a creature thought to be violent and dangerous, you sure get scared easy."

That seemed to embolden Vatch. Alia had noticed in the past the furry little thief often swung rapidly between brave and fearful, cowardice and courage. The Urd'thin as a people almost seemed to have a dual nature to them. Alia couldn't help but wonder if life lived on the streets of a city who hated them and often sought to exterminate them had changed the very nature of the species.

"I not scared," Vatch snapped, stepping out from behind Alia. He pointed at Paulson, grinning and hissing through his teeth. "Just not want big fat man eat me!"

Paulson blinked, then gave another bellowing laugh. He patted his own belly with a hand. "Guess you got a point, Little Guy."

Vatch grinned and thrust his hands into the air as if celebrating some exultant victory. Alia rubbed one of his oversized ears. Now that Vatch was nice and clean, she'd found that the fur upon his ears was exceedingly soft. She'd also found he rather enjoyed having his ears petted. It soothed him in much the way caressing Valyrym's nose seemed to soothe the old dragon.

Kaylen followed Paulson back towards the counter. "Are you sure you've got all those numbers? Should you write them down, perhaps?"

"Nope," was Paulson's only reply.

"Nope...to which question?" Thomas asked.

"The second one, mostly."

"Mostly?" Kaylen giggled. "I hope you don't expect payment if I end up with a dress tailored to fit Thomas." She glanced at her friends. "And I rather doubt Thomas would like to be wearing a skirt, though Vatch might look cute in one."

"Skirt for Vatch," Paulson muttered to himself. "Got it."

"Skirt?" Vatch blinked, looking up at Alia. "Is for girls?"

"Yes, Vatch," Alia giggled, still rubbing his ear. "Skirts are for girls."

"Vatch not girl!" Vatch protested with a little snarl.

"They're teasing you, Vatch," Alia explained, grinning down at him. He'd catch on sooner or later. Then again, she imagined it was harder to pick up on when someone was teasing you in a foreign language then it was in your own. For a moment, Alia wondered how hard it might be to pick up the Urd'thin language. Perhaps she should try and have Vatch teach her a little of it just like she wanted to have Valyrym teach her some of the draconic tongue. "Don't worry, no one's going to make you wear a skirt."

Vatch grumbled under his breath and folded his arms. His bushy tail flicked and twitched behind him in irritation. "Better not. Or...or Vatch be mad!"

Alia just smiled, and made her way over to her friends. Thomas and Kaylen were both standing across the counter from Paulson as he began to sketch a few rough images onto parchment with a charcoal stick. Alia placed a hand against her friend's backs, grinning at them. "And you two. I assure you that you don't have to worry about Paulson. That man has more measurement numbers in his head than...well...any cliche I can think of. I've never seen him write down any numbers and his clothing always comes out fantastically."

Paulson smiled at her. "Thank you, my dear."

"You're welcome." She removed her hands from her friends, and leaned forward against the counter. "Now, I'm sure they've all got input about what they want to wear. But I'd like them to each have three outfits with the warden's emblem incorporated upon the shoulders. You know, the same way you've done for some of my clothes. Beyond that, you're free to do whatever they'd like, and whatever you would look good upon them, and fit their new positions."

Alia strode around the store a little bit as her three friends began to give Paulson ideas for their clothing. Kaylen wanted colorful and beautiful and fun, and Thomas wanted comfortable yet formal. Alia suspected they'd probably both get something in the middle. After all they needed to look the part, but they didn't have to look like stuffy accountants to do so. Vatch on the other hand, seemed to have no idea what he wanted in clothes. When he pressed, his suggestions included such strict requirements as "No skirt", "not fall down", and "not be itchy."

Alia laughed, and as Paulson continued to sketch out some possible design ideas for a variety of clothing, she wandered his store. Now and then she picked up something she liked, and held it against herself. She posed in front of a mirror with a fancy blue gown, decked out with white lace. Nice, but a little too formal for her liking. She held a pair of black breeches against herself, smiling. She liked them, but really, she had enough breeches. more than anything else, she was just passing the time.

"So this dragon's not so mean after all, eh?" Paulson asked with a chuckle.

"Not as much as you might imagine," Thomas said. "He seems something like dragon equivalent of the grumpy old grandfather with something unexpectedly bittersweet hidden away under all that grump. You can't help but like him a little bit no matter how many times he insults you and tells you to get the hell out of his garden. Or, his dungeon, as the case may be."

Kaylen leaned forward with her elbows against the counter, resting her chin in her palm a moment. As she talked, she idly swayed her hips to the sounds of music playing only in her head. A bundle of energy, as always. "He's actually quite sweet, in his own way. I was very surprised! I'm not sure if he's always had that sort hidden warmth in his heart, or if it was Alia who put it there. Whatever the case, countless decades buried beneath the earth would harden anyone's heart, dragon or otherwise."

"Ah, so you'd call him a friend, would you?" Paulson gave the two of them a grin. "Alia does, it's nice to know the old beast is open to having other friends, to."

"I certainly would, yes," Kaylen giggled, then stuck her tongue out at Thomas. "Though, I don't think Valyrym considers Thomas a friend. More like a know-it-all-annoyance!"

"At least he knows I won't be blabbing his name to every person who asks about him," Thomas said, smirking right back at her.

Kaylen blinked. "Oh...right." She scowled a moment, and then lowered her voice to Paulson. "Pretend you didn't hear that. He gets ever so grumpy if anyone gives away his name."

That made Paulson laughed. He idly scratched at his face with the charcoal stick he was using to sketch with, leaving a gray smudge on his cheek. "Dunno why anyone would want to keep their name a secret, though."

"It's a dragon thing," Kaylen said, as if offering the perfect explanation.

"Well," Paulson said, gesturing with his charcoal stick. "Obviously I don't have any real frame of reference aside from his newest friends, but I can't say it seems to me as though the dragon really deserves to be held prisoner so long. Seems a nice enough old beast at this point, anyway. Though...I realize he must have done something to get himself put there."

Thomas and Kaylen slowly turned towards Alia as if expecting an explanation or at least a reply. Though she'd been listening in while trying out some clothes, she merely shrugged and picked out another blouse. There was some things she just wasn't going to tell her friends without Valyrym's very explicit permission. If he wanted them to know how his freedom came to an end, she was sure he'd tell them himself, some day. And if not, that was a secret she'd keep for him all her life.

When they realized no explanation was forthcoming from Alia, the other two returned their attention to Paulson. Kaylen soon offered her own thoughts. "You're right, you know. Getting to know him, I really don't think he deserves to be stuck down there." A brilliant smile soon stretched her lips almost all the way to her ears. "That's why Alia and I are going to set him free!"

Thomas simply rolled his eyes. By now, he'd heard the ideas. He couldn't say he agreed with them, but at the same time, he didn't disagree, either. Though, he did think it was exceedingly unlikely to ever happen. He also didn't really mind Kaylen blurting it out to Paulson. And not just because it seemed as though they could actually trust Paulson, but because there was nothing more easy to write off as a joke than the idea they were going to spring the dragon free.

As Thomas expected, Paulson started laughing. He passed a few sheets of parchment over to Kaylen and Thomas for them to examine as he began to sketch out some ideas for Vatch. "And how do you plan to do that, then?"

"Probably by sneaking him a lot of spoons and telling him to start digging," Thomas said, laughing to himself.

Kaylen elbowed Thomas lightly in the rubs, giggling. "Don't give away the plan, Thomas."

"Yanno," Paulson said, pausing in his sketching. He lifted his eyes from the parchment upon which he was drawing, then glanced over at Alia. When he saw that she was listening too, he went on. "If you really want to free the dragon...you ought to ask the Queen."

"Ask the Queen?" Thomas said in disbelief, then began to laugh. "Oh, now that's funny! I can just see the three of us, knocking on Her Majesty's Door." He made a grand show of knocking on an imaginary door, and then giving an exaggerated bow. "Oh, excuse us your Majesty, you know that murderous dragon you keep locked in that oversized cellar? And you know how you've kicked our people out of our own lands? We feel you owe us a favor...So, we'd like it if you'd just let him go. We promise he won't rain too much fiery vengeance down upon you before he leaves."

Most of the group had a hearty laugh, but Alia just chuckled to herself. She hadn't told anyone about Valyrym's ruined fire glands. She rather doubted he wanted anyone else to know the more graphic details of his own torture. After all he hadn't even told her everything they'd done to him while he was helpless.

What really drew Alia attention though was Paulson's suggestion itself. She knew the old man better than the others did. Alia also knew that sometimes he wasn't always joking. For some reason, Paulson now reminded her of Valyrym's friend Asgir, if Asgir could be called that. Where Asgir hid beads of wisdom behind a veil of feigned insanity, Paulson usually just wrapped them up inside a joke or an offhand comment and left it to Alia to determine what he really meant.

Alia hung the dress she'd been looking at back up on the rack, and walked to the counter again. She squeezed in between Thomas and Kaylen, down the counter from Vatch who was on tip toes trying to see the sketches. She pursed her lips, and gave Paulson a long look when he'd finished laughing about Thomas' comments.

"Ask the Queen, you say?"

"Aye," Paulson replied, grinning and returning to his sketching.

"I rather doubt the Queen would grant an audience to some random Aran'alian," Thomas said, still laughing to himself.

"As do I," Paulson said, smirking to himself as he kept sketching. "But none of you are random Aran'alians. Especially Alia." He gestured to her with his free hand without lifting his eyes from the parchment. "Unless I completely misunderstood her explanation of her current position, she's employed directly by the royal family. By the Queen."

Alia fidgeted, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as an idea began to form in her brain. "Technically speaking, yes."

"Any employee of the Queen can request an audience with Her Majesty, if the need arises, or the matter is important enough to demand her personal attention. Such an audience is not always granted, but, I'd wager even the Queen would be curious to hear what the Dragon Warden had to say about her charge."

"How do you know that?" Kaylen asked, tilting her head and drumming her fingers on the counter.

"I worked as a tailor at the castle, when I was younger," Paulson said, grinning. "Made clothing for nobles and royals for a while."

"You never said that," Alia said, taken aback.

Paulson just shrugged. "And you never asked. That was a long time ago, anyway. Before you were even born, I'd wager. The point is, the Queen's not inaccessible. Especially to someone who actually works for her, and might have something that would pique her interest. After all, she takes audience from Illandran citizens and businesses from time to time, and her own employees ought to rate higher than that."

"Even so," Thomas said, waving his hand. "She wouldn't just...free the dragon."

"Why not?" Paulson asked.

"Well...because..."

"You can't know if you don't ask. Obviously, you'd have to do it right. Convince her why he should be freed, and even then, there's a great chance she'll deny it." Paulson slowly straightened up, smiling a little. "Look. I've been listening to Alia talk about this dragon for a while, now. And every time I see her again she seems to like the old beast more and more. And I trust Alia, I've known her a long time. She's a sweet thing, and yes, she can be a little quick to trust..." Paulson grinned at Alia. "But she's also an excellent judge of character. She seems to see into someone's heart deeper than almost anyone else. She also does so before most people even find a way to peek beneath the armor we hardly realize we wear. If Alia thinks the dragon deserves freedom, then that's good enough for me. So..." Paulson waved his hand at Alia as if preparing for a grand proclamation. "Does the Dragon deserve freedom?"

Alia's mouth felt dry. She never knew Paulson thought that way about her. All this time she'd known the old man, and he was seeing deeper into her soul than she'd ever realized was possible. No wonder she'd come to like him so much. From the sound of it, he felt the same way about her. She took a deep breath, and let it out slowly in a long, calming sigh.

"Yes," Alia said. "He does."

"Then I suggest you put your argument together, and request an audience with the Queen." He smiled at Alia. "You may find her to be a surprisingly reasonable woman. Besides, even if she denies the request, I think she'd like you, Alia."

Alia just laughed a little. "Do you?"

"Of course!" Paulson gave a hearty laugh as well, gesturing at her. "What's not to like?"

Alia folded her arms under her breasts, grinning. "Why do I get the feeling you think there's another reason she might like me?"

"I've no idea," Paulson said, smiling. He handed down some sketches to Vatch who began to look them over. "But it cannot hurt to ask, can it?"

"No..." Alia rolled the words around in her mouth as though savoring a sweet morsel. "No, it cannot."

"She may very well say no, no matter what you have to tell her," Paulson said, taking the sketches back from Kaylen and Thomas to make a few alterations. "But she's a good woman, at heart. At the very least, I think she'll listen."

That was good enough for Alia.

---

Chapter Nine

By the time the first sets of clothing from Paulson were finished, Alia officially had three employees. All the contracts had been written up, verified, notarized and signed. After overcoming the initial pushback from those against the idea of hiring Aran'alians and Urd'thin, the only real difficulty came when it was time for Vatch and read and sign his own contract. As it turned out, while Vatch could speak the common tongue of Illandra well enough, he couldn't read or write a single word of it. And while he knew how to sign his own name, he could only do so using the old, runic symbols of the Urd'thin tongue. In the end, Alia read the contract to him word for word, had him sign it in his own way, and then she guided him in signing his own name in the common script as well.

All the while, an idea was growing in Alia's mind. The seed that was planted when Paulson first mentioned the Queen had long since sprouted, and over the ensuing days that sapling was fast becoming a full fledged tree. Each new leafy limb it sprouted was another argument Alia assembled in her mind, another reason that Illandra should show the dragon mercy. Another chance for Valyrym to be set free. How perfect would it be if the Queen herself decided to release the dragon from his decades long imprisonment?

In the meantime, Alia decided to undertake another sizable task. That was, the washing of Valyrym's many soft things. She certainly wasn't going to wash them all herself. In fact she planned to make Valyrym do as much of the work as possible. After all it was his bed, she saw no reason why she should have to do all the scrubbing and washing.

Even as she worked alongside her new assistants, it seemed to take countless trips to drag all of Valyrym's blankets, furs, pillows, and assorted piles of old clothing out to the tub. Valyrym wasn't helping, either, given that he kept insisting certain things not be touched or moved and snapping at anyone who tried to do just that.

Kaylen picked up an armful of old colorful pillows wrapped in ragged lace, ignoring the dragon as he snapped his teeth near his face. "Stop being so cranky, your old hermit. We have to get these things clean."

"I am not a hermit," Valyrym hissed at her, lashing his spined tail. "A hermit's exile is self imposed."

"You'd have exiled yourself if Illandra didn't do it for you," Kaylen said, clucking her tongue at him.

Valyrym reached out and deftly plucked a pillow from Kaylen's grasp. "That is not the point! I have...where did you get this one?" He stared at the pillow, a dark forest green color with golden diamond shapes sewn into it. "I haven't seen this one in ages."

"Buried under the rest of your bed," Kaylen giggled, reaching out and yanking it from the dragon's paws. "Now are you going to help us take all this stuff out to the tub, or not?"

"No," the dragon said sullenly, glaring at Kaylen as hard as he could. Given that she was the only one in his sleeping chamber at that moment, she was the recipient of Valyrym's usual assortment of withering words and looks. "If all my bedding is soaking wet, what am I going to sleep upon?"

"The ground," Kaylen said, snickering. "I've seen you curled on the floor, napping in a patch of sunlight shining down through one of your vents before." She giggled at and bopped the dragon on the head with the green and gold pillow. "Now quit being cranky and help out."

"No," the dragon said again, growling under his breath and flaring his spines. "I refuse."

"That's your choice," Kaylen said, turning around, her red and white skirt swishing around her ankles.

Given that she'd be working with the dragon and her friends all day she'd selected one of her more playfully colorful new outfits. It consisted of a sort of cheerfully bright red top with golden highlights along the sleeves, and her warden emblem upon her shoulders. The skirt matched with it held the same happy reddish tones, interspersed with a sort creamy white layer of stripes. Kaylen thought it looked adorably unique and happy, and had insisted on the colors herself.

As she walked off, Kaylen called back to the dragon. "But if you don't do any work all day long, when the rest of us are finished I'm going to have to kick you right in your old dragon balls!"

Valyrym flattened his spines down at her, hissing and tucking his tail protectively. "You are welcome to try!"

"Good to know," Kaylen giggled as she carried her armload of pillows out in to the main chamber.

Feeling as though he'd somehow been bested in a contest he wasn't even aware he'd competing it, Valyrym called out after her. "Well, you look like an oversized children's treat!"

"I'm a treat for anyone," Kaylen called back, giggling.

Valyrym muttered under his breath, gazing around at his sleeping chamber. By now his bed of soft things was over halfway gone. It had been reduced from a lovely pile of soft comfort to a few thin and uneven layers of padding on the stone floor. And from the looks of it, the bottom layers were in better, cleaner shape than the top layers had been. They looked remarkably bright and clean compared to the dingier blankets and pillows that had already been carried away. Not that Valyrym would ever admit aloud that Alia was right about something.

Deciding he didn't want to test the veracity of Kaylen's threat, Valyrym took an indigo pillow that was edged with a ruffle of black lace into his jaws. He padded out of his sleeping chamber, making for the tub where everything was going to be washed. Along the way he passed Alia as she made another trip to his sleeping chamber. She smiled at him and patted his shoulder as though glad to see him pitching it. Valyrym was happy to let Alia think that helping was his idea, and not simply because the comfort of his balls depended on it.

The scents of flowers and berries perfumed the area of Valyrym's primary prison chamber. It hung heaviest near the tub where soapy froth was already overlapping the wooden walls in a few places and cascading to the floor in a whitish, bubbly mess. Valyrym hoped that all the sloshing water wasn't going to rust the metal fasteners that held his tub together. Though, he supposed if they did he could always get Alia to build him another. Spotting Kaylen standing at the end of the tub, Valyrym spat out the pillow right at the woman's feet, glaring at her for a moment.

"Here's a damn pillow. There, I helped."

Kaylen picked up the pillow and dropped it into the tub. She smiled and patted Valyrym's nose. "It's a start. Now go get more! And don't you think for one moment that a single pillow is going to be enough to keep your testicles and my boot from being introduced later tonight!"

"You're treading dangerous ground," the dragon hissed at Kaylen.

She only laughed at him, then reached out to rub his chin, much to Valyrym's indignant amusement. "You can't fool me, you cuddly old lizard. I know you're not going to hurt any of us, now."

"I can still toss you into that tub."

That actually gave Kaylen pause. Valyrym grinned, considering that a victory, however temporary it might prove to be. He turned back around, making sure to bump Kaylen with his tail. She gave a startled yelp and Valyrym laughed. "Mind the tail, won't you?"

"Mind it yourself you clumsy beast!" Kaylen yelled at him, kicking at the spiny end of his tail as Valyrym walked off.

Back in his sleeping chamber, he found Alia gathering up as many blankets as she could. He arrived just in time to see her bending over, scooping another one up. For a moment, Valyrym peered at Alia's nearly heart shaped rump as it was pressed out against her black breeches. She seemed to own a lot of breeches like that. Valyrym certainly didn't mind. He knew she found them comfortable, and besides, they looked good on her. Especially when she bent over. The sight caused the old dragon's sheath to tingle and swell a little bit, and he licked his nose.

"Like what you see, you old pervert?" Alia said with a giggle and a shake of her hips.

"Indeed," the dragon murmured to himself. When he saw Alia peeking back at him, he made a show of reaching under his own belly to rub his sheath a little. "But why does everyone keep calling me old today?"

"Cause you are old," Alia said, straightening up and laughing. "And if you end up with an erection, don't complain to me about being embarrassed and teased about it."

Valyrym snorted, setting his paw down. His tapered red tip was peeking out but no more. "You were teasing me, first."

Alia held a large bundle of blankets together in her arms as she turned towards the dragon. "No, I was picking up a blanket. You decided to stare."

"Only because you decided to stay bent over." Valyrym licked his nose, rustling his dark wings at his sides. "Where are the other two, anyway?"

"We sent Thomas and Vatch to go into town and buy some more soaps and things." Alia began to make her way towards the exit of Val's sleeping chamber. "I suspect we're going to need to do more than one load."

"I'd like to give you more than one load right now," the dragon purred to Alia.

The young woman burst out laughing as she squeezed past the dragon with an armload of blankets. She glanced at him, her lightly bronzed face a little flushed, a smirk spread over her ruby lips. "That's actually a pretty good one! Should have seen it coming, but I didn't."

"What can I say," the dragon said, turning to follow her back out. "I've a very sharp wit."

"Like a knife. A butter knife." Alia muttered, shaking her butt for him as she walked back into the main chamber. "Now stop staring at my rump before you get yourself all unsheathed."

"Then stop shaking it at me."

"Maybe I should keep shaking at you." She glanced back at him over her shoulder, black tresses swaying. Her green eyes sparkled with mischief. "Maybe Kaylen would enjoy seeing what a dragon's erection looks like."

"She did grab my sheath when she first met me," the dragon said, grinning.

Back at the tub, Kaylen had already begun to scrub a few pillows in the soapy water. She was washing them as gently as she could, hoping that the water wouldn't destroy them or cause them to lose their shape too dramatically. If worst came to worst, at least now the three of them could afford to buy the dragon some new bed things. She looked up at her friends as they arrived, and Alia deposited an armful of old blankets.

When she saw that Valyrym hadn't brought anything himself, she grinned at the lightly limping dragon. "It seems you're still aiming for that kick in the balls."

The dragon snorted, tossing his wedge shaped head. "And it seems you're eager to see what a dragon's erection looks like."

Kaylen gasped, staring up at the dragon. Her rounded face was quickly flushing scarlet as her ears grew quite hot. When the dragon gestured towards Alia behind her back, as if indicating she'd spilled some great secret, Kaylen turned her glare towards Alia. Her eyes smoldered for a moment.

"You told him that?"

"No!" Alia burst out laughing. "But you just did!"

Kaylen nearly went purple and turned away from both of them. Valyrym just laughed, shaking his head a little. "I learned that trick from Amaleen. But Alia did suggest..."

"I was teasing you, Valyrym."

"I was only curious," Kaylen muttered. "If there's anyone Alia's going to talk about that sort of thing to, it was me." Kaylen turned her head to give Alia a sly grin, as if hoping to embarrass her friend just as well. Then she glanced at the dragon. "Is it as red as she said it was?"

"I thought he was the one who mentioned it was red," Alia laughed, but then shrugged. "But yes. It is quite red."

"Like a red spear, I should think," Kaylen giggled, her embarrassment fading quickly. Open and outgoing as Kaylen was, it was hard to embarrass the girl. She had, after all, grabbed the dragon's sheath upon first meeting just as Valyrym said. And this was the second time they'd had a laugh comparing the shape of a dragon's penis to various types of weaponry.

"A spear?" Valyrym grinned. "Yes, I rather like the connotation."

"Too generous, though," Alia said, shaking her head.

"Oh? Sized more like a dagger, is it?"

"It is much larger than a dagger," Valyrym insisted, hissing.

Alia shrugged. "He's right. It's actually very long. Like a whip!"

Valyrym smiled at that. His smile faded quickly.

"Long, thin, and flaccid!"

"That's it," the dragon stomped a front paw. "Someone's getting thrown in the tub! Now which one of you is it going to be?"

"Why don't you get in the tub," Alia said, darting away from the dragon when he tried to snatch her up. "And start scrubbing your damn furs and blankets."

"Perhaps if you get in with me," Valyrym snarled playfully, turning to follow Alia. "I'll give you something else you can scrub for me again." Then he glanced back at Kaylen, who was giggling like crazy behind him. "You as well, if Alia gives her permission. Wouldn't want to make her jealous."

"You wicked beast," Alia said, feigning anger as she put her hands on her hips. "Trying to corrupt an innocent girl like that."

"Innocent?" Valyrym glanced back at Kaylen, tilting his head. She smiled and waved at him. "Her? I've seen Urd'thin more innocent than that one."

"Hey!" Kaylen exclaimed, and then found herself laughing.

"Oh, it's alright my dear," Valyrym murmured to her, coiling his spined tail around her middle for a moment. "If you're that curious about a dragon's mating tool, you're welcome to climb in the tub with Alia and I, and I shall arrange a demonstration."

"You filthy thing," Kaylen said in mock horror. The mischievously gleaming sparkle in her eyes betrayed her. "I've half a mind to kick you in your perverted stones for real, now!"

"As if you weren't already thinking about that," Valyrym laughed. "Haven't met an Aran'alian girl yet who doesn't default straight to that particular move."

"Well it is an effective method of behavior control," Alia giggled. "All I ever have to do is threaten it, and you do whatever I want!"

"Yes, I suppose you've a point," Valyrym said, grinning. Then he flexed one of his wings, gesturing with it towards Kaylen as he slowly uncurled his tail from around her.

"Does she..." Valyrym trailed off, and then made a barely perceptible waving gesture between himself and Alia. He wasn't really sure how far he could take this. So far, if their relationship remained completely secret from Alia's friends it would be easy enough to write this all off as a playful joke. "Know? About..."

"She knows," Kaylen called out from behind the dragon. Apparently his gesture was not as imperceptible as he thought. Sometimes the old dragon forget how exaggerated the movements of a dragon's paws could be compared to a human's hands. "And she thinks you're a filthy beast for corrupting poor Alia that way!"

For a moment, Valyrym's heart couldn't decide if it should skip a few beats, or simply stop beating entirely. It fluttered in his chest ,and his belly tried to flip itself completely over. Kaylen knew, and she thought...oh...wait. Wasn't that the same damn thing Alia just said to him?

"Oh, I see what's going on here," the dragon snorted. "I should hurl you both into the damn tub. Why must females always gang up on males? You're just like the female dragons back home."

"You mean because we don't judge you for having a relationship with another species?" Kaylen giggled, unable to help herself.

That actually made Valyrym smile a little. "Yes, well, that as well. Though, I was referring more to the fact you two always seem to gang up on me, to say nothing of the fact you've both taken to threatening to kick me in the balls."

The two girls laughed, and Valyrym caught Kaylen in his tail when she tried to move away. "Oh, no, I didn't say you could go anywhere." He gave her a playful squeeze as though about to interrogate her, mindful of his tail's spines. "How long have you know, anyway?"

"I'm not sure, exactly," Kaylen admitted, fidgeting inside the dragon's tail. "Alia never came out and said it or anything. I just sort of figured it out. It's there in her eyes, when she talks about you. She can probably hide it from most people, but not from me, not from Thomas. When she speaks of you, we can see that she l-".

"Don't say it," Valyrym cut her off. "Don't say that word."

"What?" Kaylen blinked, grabbing one of the dragon's tail spines. "Don't say that she lusts after you?" Giggling, she stuck her tongue out at Alia.

Valyrym smirked. "No, you are welcome to say that." He turned his head to grin at Alia. "Especially since we both know it's true."

"Only in your own mind," Alia giggled, reaching out to scratch under his chin.

Valyrym rumbled a soft purr. "But don't say what you were really going to say. Please. Call it a superstition, alright? Nothing good has ever befallen those who...feel that way about me."

Kaylen released the dragon's tail spines, folding her arms under her breasts. "You sound like a little child, afraid to tell the girl at the school yard what he really thinks of her."

"Humor me." Valyrym tightened his tail around her till she squeaked. "Or I'll squish you."

"Alright, alright," Kaylen said with a giggling wheeze. "You know I can see your balls from here, Dragon."

"Why am I not surprised you're staring?"

"Not much else to look at, actually. I rather imagined you'd only wrapped me in your tail because you enjoyed having them stared at."

Valyrym laughed, shaking his wings. "I certainly do not dislike it. Alia can't keep her eyes off them. Or her hands." When Alia gave a little gasp, and Kaylen giggled like mad, Valyrym added a bit more as he relaxed his tail to let the other woman go. "Or her mouth."

Kaylen's giggles turned into full fledged laughter, and she slapped a hand over her mouth. Wide as her eyes went and red as her face got, she looked as though she couldn't decide if she should be more shocked and appalled or amused and indignant on Alia's behalf. Valyrym only chuckled to himself and Alia slapped him soundly on the nose, glaring.

"Val! There are some things you just don't tell people!"

Val grunted, rubbing his nose, then smirked at Alia. "Now you're the one admitting to things that might otherwise not have been believed." Then the dragon glanced back at Kaylen, flaring his spines up and grinning smugly. "Perhaps if you ask her nicely, Alia will let you put your mouth on them too."

Kaylen's face went from scarlet to nearly purple in an instant, and the dragon only laughed harder. Even Alia couldn't help giggling at her friend's sudden embarrassment. It was hard to embarrass Kaylen that much, and from the looks of things Valyrym had just scored a direct hit. Kaylen fidgeted with her skirt a little, working a brown and gold shoe against the floor. She alternated between glancing at Alia with a sheepish look, glaring at Valyrym in embarrassed anger, and looking away when she couldn't meet anyone's eyes.

"Oh, cheer up," the dragon said, chuckling. "You said you were curious, so I thought I'd offer."

Kaylen swatted at his tail. "That doesn't excuse you, Dragon!"

"Kaylen," Alia called out, giggling. "Why don't you just kick him?"

Kaylen grinned wickedly, and Valyrym glared at Alia. "I'll thank you to keep your mouth shut, before you give her any id-AWWWWWWHHHH!"

Before Valyrym had a chance to finish his sentence, let alone tuck his tail down to protect his testicles, Kaylen had already slammed her foot into them. Alia had actually been teasing the dragon as much as anything else, but Kaylen took it seriously and Alia could not blame her. Nor could Alia stop herself from exploding into laughter at the look on the dragon's face when he finally got the kick in the stones the two woman had long playfully threatened.

Alia never knew a dragon could get so bug-eyed. They looked like fat golden marbles ready to roll right out of his sockets. Before the dragon had even crumpled both Val's eyes had gone completely cross. Then it seemed to take just a second for the rest of pain to really hit the dragon after his initial cry and when it did it seemed to hit all at once. His hind legs snapped together, his front paws shot back to grasp his suddenly aching balls, and in an instant Valyrym was crumpled in the floor in a scaly, groaning heap.

Both girls burst out laughing as the dragon collapsed, curling up with a loud moan of pain. "Ooooooh, Gods! My stones!"

Kaylen pressed her hands to her face, struggling to hold in her laughter and failing completely. "Oh, Valyrym! I'm sorry!" Despite her apology, she only laughed harder.

"I was only teasing! I didn't mean you should kick him for real," Alia said between her own fits of laughter. Soon she was doubled over, clutching her aching ribs. "You really nailed him, too!"

"I'm sorry," Kaylen repeated through her giggles. "Are you alright?"

"Nnrrrrrrrhhhhhhhhgggg!" Was Valyrym's only immediate answer. The old dragon clutched his balls in both front paws, writhing on the stone floor as his two most precious jewels ached relentlessly. By then his entire face was contorted with the constant ache, his black and gray muzzle so scrunched up he seemed to be trying to show off all his fangs at once. His frilled ears were twisted back against his head, but all his spines stood half way out from his head as though pain and anger were vying for control of them. When Valyrym finally found some words, his voice was strained, wheezing, and quite incredulous. "You...you got me...in the balls!"

Valyrym's obvious statement only made the two girls laugh even harder. Kaylen shook her head, taking a few steps back as the dragon's spined tail lashed and coiled in pain. "I noticed! I wasn't going to do it for real! I mean, I wasn't going to do it hard...but, Alia told me to, and I thought she meant for real!" Kaylen watched the dragon writhe, unable to help but giggle at his pained antics. "And, to be fair, you did insult her. And me!"

"It was an offer, not an insult!" The dragon snapped, then curled up tightly, one wing flaring out behind him and beating the air a moment. "Gods, you got 'em both."

Alia grinned at her stricken friend, crouching down to rub his nose. "Now, now, Valyrym. How do you think Amaleen would have reacted if you told her she could put her mouth on your balls, right in front of her friend? And then told her friend the same?"

Oh, Valyrym knew how Amaleen would have reacted. She'd have kicked him even harder than Kaylen did. But that didn't mean Valyrym was going to admit as much. "She would have done it!" He snapped, then gnashed his teeth near Alia's hand. "I ought to bite you both!"

"More like gum us both, you old lizard," Alia giggled, then gently stroked his neck a little. "You gonna be alright?"

Kaylen walked around to join Alia, still giggling. "I'm sorry, Val. I didn't think it would hurt a dragon quite so badly."

"Why the hell not?" Valyrym growled, tilting his head to glare at the one who'd kicked him. "When I get up, I'm gonna bite that foot off."

Kaylen ignored his threat. "Because...you're a dragon. I dunno, I just didn't think it would hurt a dragon as badly as it does a man."

"But they're the same damn organs," Valyrym groaned, laying his head down. He hoisted a hind leg to a little to openly rub his aching testicles. "They're just bigger."

"A little bigger, anyway," Alia said, grinning. "Quit playing with yourself."

"Get mounted," Valyrym murmured, rubbing his hind legs together around his paws. Then he peered up at Kaylen, his golden eyes narrowed and filled with an odd mixture of pained anger, respect, and amusement. They flickered a little as he licked his nose. "You got a hell of a kick, I'll give you that. Amaleen woulda been proud."

Alia giggled and settled onto the stone floor. She hoisted Val's head onto her lap, stroking his muzzle. "You think Kaylen would have given Amaleen a challenge for Chief Dragon-Balls Kicker?"

"Been a long time since anyone's done that to me, but from what I can recall..." Valyrym chuckled a little. "Kaylen would have been a close number two, at least."

"Guess I need more practice then," Kaylen said, folding her arms under her breasts, pressing them out against her red and gold blouse.

"Then I suggest Thomas and Vatch," Valyrym snorted.

"Not a bad idea," Kaylen mussed, grinning.

"I wonder where I'd stack up against Amaleen and Kaylen?" Alia asked, giggling. "All these threats and I've never yet actually gotten to kick a dragon in the testicles!"

"Oh, you simply must try it Alia," Kaylen said, making a show of kicking in the air. "It's delightful fun!"

"Not funny," Valyrym grumbled.

"And what if it was Korvarak she'd just kicked in the eggs?" Alia rubbed Val's cheek tenderly. "What if Kor was the one curled on the floor groaning? You'd be laughing your own tail off, wouldn't you."

"Of course," the dragon said with a chuckle. "It's funny when his get hit."

"And its funny when yours get hit too," Alia said, grinning. "I do wonder how I'd compare to the other human girls who've kicked you in the balls. Do me a favor, Val. Stand up and hoist your tail. I'll give you a swift kick, and you can tell me where I rate on the scale."

"You'd have to offer me a hell of a lot more than clean bedclothes and smoked fish to get me to let you kick me in the stones. Let alone right now!" Valyrym snorted, and Alia just laughed, stroking his scales.

"Oh?" Kaylen giggled. "So if she offers you something...pleasurable..." She twisted her skirt in her hands, grinning. "You'd let her kick you then?"

Valyrym closed his eyes. "I might consider it for a moment, anyway." He took a few breaths, then without opening his eyes, he grinned and said, "Speaking of which, I expect someone to make me feel better before the day is done."

"You'd be so lucky," Kaylen said, laughing.

"I've half a mind to tell you that you ought to be massaging my balls until they feel better, since you're the one who kicked them."

"And the other half of your mind?"

Valyrym cracked one eye open, peering up at her. "Is afraid you'd just kick them again."

Alia began to crawl down the dragon's body a little. "There's not any guards around, are there Kaylen?"

Kaylen peered about the place. "Not that I can see. Do they usually come down here without announcing themselves?"

"You never know," Alia murmured, trailing her fingers along the dragon's belly.

"Why do you ask?" Kaylen turned back to Alia, then realized the answer to her question, and quickly covered her mouth with her hand as if in futile attempt to stifle her own giggles. "Are you going to...touch him?"

"Maybe a little," Alia said, smirking. "Why, do you want to watch?"

"I..well..." Kaylen stammered a bit, looking half flustered and half eager. "...Perhaps?"

Alia just smiled. "Lift your hind leg, Val. Let me see them. I'll make sure they're still intact."

"They'd damn well better still be intact." Valyrym snorted, slowly hoisting up his hind leg. "I really will bite that foot off if I've lost one."

"That doesn't seem like a very fair trade," Kaylen said, scowling down at the dragon.

"That's only because you're female."

"I need my feet for walking! What do you need your extra ball for?"

"It's not extra!" Valyrym snapped. "They are both equally valuable and equally important."

"Only to their owner," Alia piped up, grinning. "Now move your paws."

"This isn't a trick, is it?" Valyrym kept his paws clutched around his sore balls, peering down along his belly at Alia.

Alia just grinned at him. She reached out, and ran a single finger along the dragon's fleshy black sheath. Alia noticed a bit of red at the end of it, and realized Valyrym's tapered tip was already peeking out. Smirking to herself, she soon traced her finger around that hot red flesh, making Valyrym suck in a sharp breath. His body trembled, and he slowly pulled his paws away, rolling a little more onto his side. His eggs, looking no worse for the wear, were soon resting against the pebbly scales of his inner thigh.

"They look fine to me," Alia said, giving the dragon a very smug look. "I'm more interested in the fact that you're sticking out of your sheath a little just after getting kicked in the balls. You know, Val, I'm starting to think you enjoy it when females threaten you that way. Or even when they do it."

"You're out of your mind," the dragon stared at her aghast she'd even suggest such a thing. His ears swiveled and flattened out to the sides of her head.

Alia shrugged, circling her finger around the dragon's red tip again, smiling at the sight of more of his tool spilling forth. "Maybe. But you certainly went out of your way to tell me about all the times you got hit in the balls in your past. You could have left those out of your story, you know."

"Colorful details make a story more memorable," the dragon muttered, though his voice shook a little.

"True," Alia said, smiling. "But nonetheless, Kaylen kicked you in the balls and you were peeking out."

"Peeking out?" Kaylen asked. Her voice was uncharacteristically meek as she came around to see just what Alia was doing.

"That's what he calls it when his member is protruding just a little from his..." Alia giggled. "What did you call it when you grabbed it? His pride?"

Kaylen's already blushing face just kept getting redder and redder when Alia reminded her she'd actually grabbed the dragon's sheath before. At this point she feared if her ears grew any hotter they'd actually burst into flame. "Something like that," she murmured.

"And she's been dreaming of it ever since," Valyrym said, chuckling.

"I have not," Kaylen said, with a childish stomp of her foot. The action made Valyrym wince given what she'd just done with that same foot. "But I'll admit to a bit of curiosity that's sprung up since I've figured things out between you and Alia. I did ask her...a little...about it, when we were alone. But she played quite coy."

"This is called his sheath," Alia said suddenly and rather loudly, as if deciding to give Kaylen a dragon-based sexual anatomy lesson then and there. "As you can see, it contains the dragon's penis."

Kaylen, still blushing, slowly moved over and knelt down alongside Alia. Valyrym lifted his head to watch them, chuckling. "You sound like a scholar giving a lesson in biology, Alia."

"Are you going to complain if I use you to educate Kaylen?"

"....No."

"I didn't think so." Alia giggled. "I thought perhaps if we had a little fun with it, made it more...scholarly, she might be a little less embarrassed."

"Embarrassment didn't stop you the first time." Valyrym purred at the memory.

"The situation was different, dragon," Alia said, glancing up at him. "My life was different. I had to...do things...that Kaylen didn't have to do. Things that left me a little more desensitized to quick sex."

"Yes," the dragon murmured, curling his neck to lay his head down on the stony floor, and watch the two girls. "I have realized as much." He waved a paw in the air. "Very well, professor. Conduct your lesson. I should hope this lesson includes a demonstration of the draconic ejaculatory process or I shall consider it very unfulfilling lecture."

Alia grinned up at her friend. Two could play the Talk Like A Scholar Game. "So long as the subject is compliant and gives no indication of ill behavior, I do believe the subject is likely to experience the ejaculatory process, yes."

"What the hell are you two babbling about?" Kaylen gave them each a blank stare.

Alia smirked, patting the dragon's sheath. "Val wants me to make him cum, basically."

"Oh." Kaylen gulped, and then flashed the dragon a sheepish grin. "Well, I suppose as long as you're demonstrating, I might as well see the end result, too."

"And would the student enjoy assisting the scholar in helping the dragon achieve that end result?" Alia gave her friend a smirk, giggling. "I can assure you the dragon wouldn't mind."

Kaylen gave both Alia and Valyrym an unusually shy smile. "I'm...not sure. Perhaps. But I think the more important question is, would the scholar herself mind?"

Alia shook her head. "Certainly not in this instance. The scholar thinks it might be fun to give the dragon a dual demonstration. He could certainly use the extra attention, lately."

"Good to know," Kaylen said, still a little sheepish.

"Though, he's quite messy. We might have to get him in the tub."

"I think he'd like it too much if we got in with him."

"Less bantering, more touching please," Valyrym said, thumping his tail. "My balls are still aching if you're looking for a place to start."

Alia laughed at that, and soon Kaylen was laughing as well. Alia reached down and gently touched the dragon's balls, running her fingers over his smooth, soft ebony sack. The glands within shifted lightly, and Kaylen's eyes were soon locked upon Alia's fingers as they gently explored the dragon's scrotum. Alia soon slipped her hand beneath the dragon's jewels, and lifted them gently. One of them slipped to the side, hanging from her head, the other rested just against her fingers.

"These are the dragon's testicles," Alia said as if Kaylen actually needed an explanation. "As you can see, they're similar to those of a man in appearance. Still quite egg-shaped. Though, they're also much larger and heavier." Alia glanced up at Valyrym's face, and stuck her tongue out at him. "Luckily for him, they're also much sturdier."

"Very funny," Valyrym muttered, though his voice was already softened with pleasure, his eyes lightly glazing. He did so enjoy having his balls played with.

Alia grinned at Kaylen. "Your foot has already gotten to know his testicles. Perhaps your hand would also like to get acquainted?"

"I...well..."

"You don't have to say anything, Kaylen," Alia giggled a little. "If you don't want to, that's fine. And if you do want to, you can just do it. If you ask Val, dragons prefer action to words anyway."

Meekly at first, Kaylen reached out and gently touched the testicle that Alia held in her hand. The skin of the dragon's sac was very warm, and very smooth. She gently rubbed her fingers back and forth against it, earning a tiny trill of enjoyment from Valyrym. "It's very soft, isn't it. And not hairy or anything at all."

"That is a human trait," Valyrym said, chuckling. "Dragons only get larger at adolescence, not hairier."

"Certainly not my favorite part of being human," Kaylen admitted, rubbing the dragon's ball a little more. "Is it still sore?"

"Yes," Valyrym replied, moaning under his breath. "But starting to feel better."

"You play with that one," Alia giggled, coaxing Kaylen to take the dragon's left testicle in her hands. "And I'll play with this one. And I'd wager he finishes getting hard before we even touch his sheath again."

"Likes it that much, does he?" Kaylen said. She held the dragon's left ball in her hands, and gently began to roll it around between her palms as though working some especially valuable dough. She had to admit, she did feel sort of empowered holding the testicle of a dragon in her grasp. Something so private and vulnerable, yet part of a creature so regal and powerful. However smarmy and obnoxious he may be at times. Soon, Kaylen's face wasn't the only thing that felt flushed and heated.

Alia held her hands next to Kaylen's so as to keep the dragon's testicles near each other, while both girls toyed with them separately. "Oh yes," Alia assured her friend. "He loves having his balls handled."

"Rather ironic, isn't it?" Kaylen tilted her head, giggling. "That a dragon should enjoy such things. Some men seem to be so afraid you'll not be gentle enough they won't even let you touch their balls."

Alia smiled and nodded. For a moment, it seemed almost hard to believe she'd actually invited her friend to play with Valyrym's privates like this. Still, she meant it when she said she thought the old dragon could use some special attention. And Kaylen had been one of her two best friends for many, many years before she'd ever met Valyrym. There was little the two woman hadn't shared or spoken openly of over those years, and though they'd never actually shared lovers together, they'd certainly spoken of them plenty of times.

Beyond that, letting Kaylen play with the dragon alongside her hardly sparked much jealousy in Alia. In truth she found it hard to feel jealous over another's attention to the dragon given all she'd heard about his life. The ways of dragons and the ways of humanity were very different, and it felt wrong to judge the dragon by her own standards. That was not to say she wouldn't feel jealousy if she had simply come to the dungeon one day and found Valyrym being pleasured by Kaylen, seemingly behind her back.

Yet she imagined she had little to fear about that. Dragons were nothing if not open, and if Val wanted to seek pleasure from others, she was sure he'd simply come out and ask her if that was alright. It was what he would have done with Amaleen, after all. And even that seemed more accommodating of human moral values than other dragons might be. Even in his own story, he'd come right out and said Nary had taken Voskalar in her muzzle right in front of her mate. And had Korvarak been jealous, or angry? No, he'd simply climbed onto her back and joined in.

Alia burst out laughing. Why couldn't humans see things so easily? So simply? Nary and Korvarak clearly loved each other as deeply as two beings could. Yet sharing pleasure with another friend seemed a simple thing that drove no wedge between them, did nothing to diminish the love they felt. Alia could not help but wonder if dragons saw the world so much more clearly than humans. Yet in other ways, it seemed their view was so much more clouded and dark.

"You'd better not be laughing at my balls," Valyrym murmured.

"Actually I was thinking about your story," Alia said, grinning. "I just remembered the part where Nary was playing with Vos, and Kor jumped on her back." She nudged Kaylen, grinning. "Remind me to tell you about Valyrym's sister and his friends sometime."

"Oh, it sounds like a very dirty story," Kaylen said, holding the dragon's ball with one hand, and rubbing her fingers gently across it with the other. "I should very much like to hear it."

Alia grinned, and went back to concentrating on her play. She rolled Valyrym's testicle around in her hand, giggling as she watched her friend doing the same. From the looks of things Kaylen was nearly copying Alia's motions. Alia began to massage the egg, and as Kaylen did the same, Valyrym began to groan quite loudly. Soon he was practically kneading his front paws like an oversized kitten; one against the stone floor and the other against his own belly scales.

"Oh, Gods," Valyrym murmured, his eyes closed, tail slowly curling. "That feels so lovely..."

"See," Alia whispered. "I told you he loves to have his balls played with." They two girls giggled, and Alia called out to the dragon. "So? How is it having two girls play with your balls together?"

"Wonderful," was the dragon's only reply. "If I was stroking off right now I'd probably shoot."

That made the two of them burst out laughing, and Kaylen nudged her friend. "Is he always so quick?"

"Not generally. But, it's been a little while since I've gotten to touch him. And..." Alia reached over, touching the other girls fingers as well as Val's other ball. "I think we are sort of...fulfilling an old fantasy he used to have. He used to love having two woman play with him together, you see."

"Did he!" Kaylen said in mock horror. "Dirty old beast."

"Yes he is," Alia said in agreement, releasing the dragon's balls for a moment, to gesture along his now rather prominent erection. "And you can see just how much he's enjoying it."

"I certainly can," Kaylen said, grinning. With Alia releasing the dragon's other testicle, Kaylen took them both into her hands, gently massaging and rolling them about in her hands. "And I can see why you call these things his apples."

"Does she then?" Valyrym asked, lifting his head a little bit.

"You know I do," Alia grinned.

"I didn't know you talked about them when I wasn't around."

Alia only smirked at him. By now, Valyrym was quite erect. Gesturing for Kaylen's attention, she ran a single finger along the dragon's tapered, deep red length. "This, my student, is what a dragon's penis looks like when fully erect." Alia had to fight to keep from giggling over the words coming out of her own mouth. "As you can see, it is quite different from that of a man."

"Yes, I can see that," Kaylen said, rolling the dragon's left ball around in her hands, before doing the same with the right one. They were warm and hefty, rather firm inside the sac. She rather liked playing with the dragon's eggs. "Much more impressive than a man's, too."

That made Valyrym chortle to himself, flaring up his spines in pride a little. "Do be sure and demonstrate its other unique features as well."

"All in good time, my dear dragon." Alia smiled at her, slowly wrapping her fingers around the midsection of his length. She gave him a little stroke, making him whimper in lustful delight. "But I do appreciate your willingness to serve as our test subject."

Kaylen grinned at her friends, working a single finger in a teasing circle around the dragon's left testicle. "This one's a little bigger, isn't it."

"Indeed it is," Alia said, nodding. "Also not unlike some men, but perhaps more noticeable upon a dragon because of the size of the organs." She watched as Kaylen held the dragon's nuts in her grasp, and then let them slide from one hand to the other. She passed them back and forth over dancing fingers, making Val moan. Then Alia laughed. "They are fun to play with, aren't they."

"Surprisingly so, yes," Kaylen giggled. "Perhaps because they're so dangly in his old age." Valyrym snorted, but did not comment, and Kaylen let his balls slip from her grasp for a moment. She pointed towards his erection. "So. Tell me about this wicked looking thing."

"Yes," Alia said, having fun with this scholarly role. "As you can see, the dragon's sheath has completely retracted, while his penis has extended, and swollen up. Without clothing it can be difficult for a dragon to hide his erection. But on the other hand, they're not as modest about them as men are, either." Alia patted the base of the dragon's ridged member, elbowing Kaylen playfully. "Val lays about and struts around with erections all the time."

"I'm not surprised. From what I can tell, dragons are natural show-offs."

"Indeed." Alia drummed her fingers against Val's ridges, making the old dragon shiver. His scales clicked together, and he hissed through his teeth. "As you can see, in addition to the size and color, a dragon's member differs from a man's in a few key ways. While much of it is smooth, it has these raised ridges around its base. They're actually exceedingly sensitive."

"Are they really?" Kaylen leaned forward, peering them. Alia rubbed a couple ridges swiftly back and forth to demonstrate, and Val tensed up, his hips twitching. Kaylen giggled. "So they are!"

"It's a little known fact about dragons, that you can actually trigger them into climax just by over stimulation of the ridges."

"Really?" Kaylen reached for the dragon's ridges.

Alia caught her hand gently, smiling. "Yes, really. Let's not do that just yet, though."

"Oh, right," Kaylen said, sheepishly.

"Can I roll upon my back?" Valyrym asked, lifting his head. "My hind leg is getting stiff from behind held aloft."

"Very well, Dragon," Alia said, moving aside.

Valyrym slowly rolled over onto his back. His pointed erection nearly lay against his belly, elevated just slightly by his arousal. The gentle arch it held kept his tapered tip brushing lightly against his belly scales. Alia moved to kneel down near his rump, and Kaylen did the same across Val's tail from Alia. Without asking, the plumper of the two girls soon took Valyrym's balls into her hands and began to roll them gently around her grasp once more.

"Oooooh," Valyrym murmured in enjoyment. "If you're going to make a habit of playing with those I shall have to have you visit more often."

"Don't press your luck, Dragon," Kaylen said.

Valyrym snorted. "Sounds exactly like what Alia would say."

Alia just grinned up at him. "What can I say, Kaylen has learned from the best. So! To review. Testicles." Alia pointed at them, then at the dragon's retracted sheath, and beyond. "Sheath. Erect Penis. Ridges."

"Yes, Headmistress, I do believe I'm caught up on the basics." Kaylen giggled. "It's sort of...curved, isn't it."

"Arched is the correct term, my dear," Alia said as if she really were some authority on draconic sexual anatomy. "They don't like it when you call it curved. But yes, it's arched. And as you can see, a dragon's penis has very little in the way of a discernable head the way a human's does."

"I had noticed as much, yes."

"That's not to say the tip of a dragon's maleness isn't very, very sensitive," Alia smirked. She reached out and wrapped her hand around the minor flare just beyond Val's tip, then twisted her grasp around it. "Because it certainly is."

As Alia twisted her fingers around his minor flare, Valyrym groaned loudly, bucking his hips and thrusting himself into Alia's hand. She laughed, and began to slowly stroke the eager dragon with a single hand. She stroked him about halfway down his length, and then back up to his tapered tip once more.

"You can see how much he enjoys that, and how he seeks more stimulation." Alia released the dragon's length, much to Val's growled frustration. "We call this pointed bit at the end and the little flared area his spear flare. Because that's what it resembles."

"It does look a bit like a spear, doesn't it." Kaylen smiled, looking up at it.

"Would you like to stroke it a little?" Alia asked on Valyrym's behalf.

Kaylen bit her lip, and then grinned. "Yes, I think I would."

Kaylen moved to lean forward on her belly against the dragon a little bit, so that her breasts were practically resting against Valyrym's balls. That gave her a much more up-close look at the dragon's admittedly impressive mating tool. With one hand, she reached out and snuck her fingers under the dragon's length, along the underside of his ridges. She squeezed a little, wrapping her fingers around as much of it as she could. Then she began to gently stroke the underside of the dragon's cock, rubbing his ridges up and down. It felt very hot in her hand, and quite hard, the little ridges felt firm and raised. Kaylen found herself filled with taboo excitement. It was an exotic thrill to be holding the erection of such a creature. She was certainly coming to feel quite heated herself. At the end of this encounter she feared she might need some attention of her own.

As Kaylen began to stroke the underside of Val's length further up the smooth shaft, Alia pressed her hand to the other side of it. She had a bit of an idea, grinning at her friends. "Start stroking him now, but not too fast. And keep your hand underneath his tool, and I'll keep my hand atop it."

Kaylen nodded, and tried to do just as Alia suggested. She started stroking along the underside of Valyrym's tool, while Alia rubbed just the top side of the dragon's erection. But as Kaylen worked her hand up, Alia moved her own hand downwards. She tried to match Kaylen's rhythm in the opposite direction so that her hand found Val's ridges just as Kaylen's found the spear tip. They couldn't both wrap their hands around it or their fingers would conflict. Instead, they both stroked and caressed it with their warm, soft palms. Soon, the two woman had worked up quite the evenly opposing movements, and before long the old dragon was positively crooning his delight at their wicked attentions.

"Ooooooh, Gods," Valyrym moaned. He arched his back in pleasure, lifting his tool into the air a little more.

"You like that, Val?" Alia asked.

"It's...delightful!"

The girls both laughed. When Alia saw a few driblets of draconic pre starting to ooze from his tip, she quickly made a fist around his tapered tip and spear flare, then ushered Kaylen's hands aside for a moment. Alia worked the dragon all the way down to his ridges and back again, rubbing the slick liquid in to help lubricate their attentions. Kaylen shifted positions so that she could play with the dragon's balls a little more, and as that only coaxed out a little more pre, soon both women were stroking up and down the dragon's increasingly slick maleness.

All the while the dragon moaned, crooned, purred and snarled his delight. Each little touch and motion the girls gave him caused him to utter a different sound of pleasure. He nearly whimpered when the stroked him in opposite directions. Then when Alia began to work her fist around his tip, while Kaylen stroked is ridges, he snarled in delighted over-stimulation. After a little while, Alia pulled back a little, and simply worked a finger up and down the dragon's shaft, right down the center of it.

"Do you want to know what really drives him mad?" Alia said softly, her face and body both flushed, and hot.

Kaylen slowly nodded. "Certainly."

Alia giggled a little bit. "...This." Then she lowered her face to the dragon's erection, and placed a gentle kiss against the flare just behind his tip. After a moment, she used her hand to pull his red organ away from his black belly, towards her face. She parted her lips a little, and swept her tongue out, swirling it around the dragon's tapered tip so that Kaylen could see just what she was doing. Valyrym gave a loud cry, his hind paws curling a little. Alia twisted her tongue once more, then lifted her head a little and returned to gently stroking Valyrym's length. "Told you," she giggled to herself.

"Oooh..." Kaylen's eyes widened. She hadn't been certain Valyrym had been telling the truth about Alia using her mouth. She couldn't help giggling. "Though I think that drives any man crazy. Or any male, in this case."

"You have a point."

"So does he from the looks of it," Kaylen giggled. Then she scrunched her nose a little. "Has he ever...you know...while you do that?"

Alia smirked. "Yes, the very first time, and without even warning me."

"I thought you knew," the dragon said, lifting his head to grin at Alia.

"Liar," she said, giggling and swatting his underbelly. Then Alia couldn't help but give Kaylen a very wicked grin. She knew a few things about her friend that not many knew, and she knew the sorts of things Kaylen enjoyed doing for men when in the right mood. "Do you want to go down on him?"

Kaylen's eyes widened, and though she doubted she could flush any deeper, somehow he face still felt even more heated. She glanced away for a moment, then back at Alia. Then she looked up at the dragon's face, who was grinning down at her. He cocked his head to the side a little, licked his muzzle."

"...Please?" He smiled at Kaylen a little more, then added, "You did kick me in the balls a little while ago, after all."

"So I did. Perhaps you've earned it." Kaylen giggled, and moved up a little, coming around to the side of the dragon and leaning against him. "I've come this far, anyway."

"I've heard your stories, Kaylen," Alia giggled. "I'd wager you'd been thinking about it."

"Oh hush, you," Kaylen grinned, peering down at the dragon's erection in front of her face. "It looks intimidating from here."

"Thank you," Valyrym rumbled, grinning.

Alia held the dragon's erection up away from his underbelly, and Kaylen leaned in. She could practically feel the heat exuding from it as her lips hovered inches from the pointed tip. After taking a moment to try and control the nervous yet excited hammering of her heart, Kaylen let her tongue flick out over the dragon's so-called spear flare. Val trilled in delight as the velvet heat rolled across him. Kaylen found the dragon to taste...well, exotic was the best word she could come up with. Not unpleasant or strong as she might have expected. Really, it wasn't that different from licking human skin aside from the vaguely exotic tint to it.

While Alia held Valyrym's cock in place, Kaylen pressed her lips to the point of it, and slowly let her tongue encircle it the same way Alia had done moments earlier. Valyrym gave a high pitched croon, and Kaylen giggled to herself. Ooh, the dragon really did enjoy this, didn't he. Slowly, she parted her lips a wider, and pressed her mouth down around him. Kaylen was cautious of her teeth, using her lips and tongue to shield the dragon's very sensitive skin from them. She pushed down a little further, and closed her mouth around him. Then she began to suck against the dragon's trapped organ, twisting her tongue all around his tip as she slowly pulled her head back.

"Oooh, dear Gods," the dragon cried out happily, fighting the urge to thrust now that someone had him in their mouth.

Kaylen pushed her head back down, and with one of her hands, she began to lightly stroke the rest of him. Alia pulled her own hands back now that Kaylen seemed to have control, and let her fingers dance down across the dragon's pebbly scales, over his thighs and eventually to his balls. When Kaylen began to lazily bob her head against the top portion of the dragon's length, Alia began to roll his balls around in her hand. Soon, Alia lowered her own head to start kissing the dragon's sac.

As the girls began to truly pleasure him in earnest, Valyrym lay his head down against the stone floor, horns scraping against it. Gods above, what great thing had he done to deserve this treatment? He'd come to expect this sort of thing from Alia, but from her friend, too? If he ever found out just who was responsible for sending Alia into his life in the first place he would have to remember and thank them as often as possible.

Beyond the obvious pleasure, part of Valyrym was grateful to see that even taken from their homes, Aran'alians reminded true to their nature. Just as the people of Sigil Stones had come to accept his relationship with Amaleen, so too had Alia's friends come to accept her relationship with him. To say nothing of the fact that Aran'alians always seemed so much more open minded than other humans. Somehow, he rather doubted he was the only dragon to ever be pleasured by more than one human girl in Sigil Stones. Though he had no way of knowing, he suspected that as the war went on, Voskalar and Korvarak probably had their fair share of encounters with Aran'alian women from time to time.

For the moment, though, it was the pleasure that Valyrym found himself lost in. This truly was a special treat to the old dragon, being lavished with delightful attentions by two wonderful women at once. In his younger days as he'd told Alia, it was not uncommon for two girls to come and deliver him a tribute in pleasure. But as his life went on, he valued the friendships he'd created far more than simple pleasure. He had already come to love Alia, though he dared not put it in words. And despite his reluctance, he was already coming to view Kaylen as a great friend as well. That friendship made the pleasures she was assisting in all the more delightful.

Valyrym closed his eyes again to savor the warm velvet delights of two different mouths and tongues roaming his most private parts. Kaylen held his erection firmly in her hand, stroking it in time with the movements of her own head. As she pushed her mouth down against him, she stroked him over his ridges, and as she pulled away she ran her hand back up his spear. The whole time she sucked against him, little slurping sounds escaped the lewd union now and then. Every time she pulled back she swirled her wonderfully hot, silken tongue around his ever-so-sensitive flared tip once more. And every suckling movement and every twist of her tongue pushed the dragon closer to his impeding eruption.

While his pleasure grew, Alia worked with his balls. She held one plump orb in her hand, pressing her lips to it, rolling her tongue across it. She licked the dragon's left ball from the bottom to the top of it and then back. Then she slipped her tongue between the two fleshy eggs, only to turn her head and repeat her lapping at the right jewel. With her hands she kneaded whichever egg she wasn't licking at the time. Now and then she let her hands roam, caressing the area between the dragon's balls and his scaly thighs. Other times she worked her hands up over his retracted sheath to tease at his ridges. Sometimes she even lifted her head to play her tongue along those ridges instead, sending little waves of hot bliss cascading through Valyrym.

Valyrym lifted his head to watch to the two girls pleasuring him together. Four hands and two tongues working towards his release. What delight. He would have to return the favor, certainly, though he wasn't sure if Kaylen would let him or not. If not, he'd just have to do so twice for Alia. For a few moments he just watched the two of them working him. The way Kaylen's head worked his tool, dark hair bouncing around it, and Alia licked and nuzzled his balls made for a memorable image. He even caught them share a little wicked smile. Naughty things. He knew as much about Alia, but only had suspicions about Kaylen until today.

Valyrym groaned louder and louder as he watched them, nearing his peak. Finally, he grit his teeth, and though he'd have loved to startle Kaylen the same way he startled Alia in the past, he finally forced himself to hiss out a warning. "I'm getting very close! If you don't stop, I'm going to shoot in just a moment!"

Alia lifted her head, grinning at Kaylen. "Kaylen, stop! If he shoots in your mouth you'll never get it all down...you'll ruin your lovely clothes."

Kaylen pulled her head back, a little string of saliva connecting her pink lips to the dragon's red tool for a moment, before she gave it one last lick. "Sorry, Dragon. As much fun as I'm having, this is a brand new shirt."

"So take it off," Valyrym murmured.

"Not just yet," Kaylen said, giggling. Valyrym couldn't tell if she was teasing or serious. Then she glanced at Alia. "What now?"

"Now, I think we finish him off together. Grasp his tip while he's all nice and slick, and just...well, you know. Stroke him as fast as you can, and keep yourself out of the line of fire. I'll do the same for his ridges."

"Sounds good to me," Kaylen said, resettling herself a little further down the dragon so that she'd not be likely to be hit with any spatter.

"Just try and keep it pointed towards his chest. Then we can just make him get into the bathwater to get cleaned up."

Before Valyrym could snidely suggest that the two girls join him in the tub for a little more fun, Kaylen had already wrapped her hands around the tapered tip of his cock and begun stroking him like mad. Alia was quick to do exactly the same thing, wrapping one hand best she could around his ridges, and taking the dragon's balls in the other hand. She began to pump him swiftly in her grasp while rolling his balls around, caressing them ceaselessly.

"Aaaaah! AAAAAH!" Valyrym's groans quickly turned into sharper cries, his back arching up, hips lifted from the floor.

"Who's a good dragon!" Alia teased him, giggling. "Who's gonna cum for the human girls!"

Kaylen soon joined in as her hands flew up and down the top half of the dragon's pointed red length in a blur. "Come on, Dragon! Shoot your seed for the human girls!"

"Rrraaaaahhh! I'm...I'm Cuummmming!" Valyrym snarled as he began to do just that. The dragon started thrusting frantically upwards into the women's hands as bestial instincts took over, and sheer ecstasy blossomed deep inside him, then exploded in blissful waves that rolled across his cock. As Valyrym roared, all his spines flared out around his face, his muzzle scrunched and his ears flattened back.

The expression of sheer draconic delight was accompanied by the dragon's erection jumping in the women's hands. A burst of whitish dragon seed spayed against his belly in a little pool. Immediately a much larger rope of the sticky stuff erupted from his tapered red cock, arcing through the air before it splattered against the plates of his chest. It was followed by a few more shots of dragon cream, one of which went far enough paint the dragon's throat white in a few sticky blotches. All the while Valyrym's face reminded twisted up in that orgasmic expression of feral bliss.

The women kept stroking the dragon till his spurts had dwindled to dribbles, and his tool finally began to soften up a little. Even then Kaylen gave him a few more strokes, despite Val squirming as if in discomfort, his penis a little oversensitive now. Finally, they both let him go, and Valyrym simply collapsed against the stone floor, panting heavily and extremely satisfied.

"Thank you," he said between gasping pants, without even lifting his head.

Alia merely smiled. "And that, my dear Kaylen..." Alia gestured towards the many white pools and sticky blotches that now coated the dragon's underbelly. Some of them were starting to dribble down the scales along his side. "Is the Ejaculatory Process of a dragon."

---

Chapter Ten

Kaylen couldn't help giggling at that. She leaned back a little bit as she looked over the messy, panting dragon. "That was quite the demonstration!" Idly, Kaylen stroked the scales of Valyrym's hind leg. "I can scarcely believe the way I assisted, either."

"Live in the moment, right?" Alia smiled, rubbing the underside of Val's tail. "You never know when the next moment might be your last. You never know what you might miss out on if you're too beholden to the beliefs of another. One of the things I've learned about myself and our people from Valyrym is that we're very open to new things."

Kaylen giggled a little bit more, her face still quite flushed. "That's putting it lightly. Unless of course you're Thomas."

"Thomas is practically an Illandra," Alia replied, grinning and happy to tease her friend whether he was there or not.

"Yes, I don't think I need to tell him I masturbated a dragon," Kaylen laughed, shifting herself to lean up against Valyrym's haunch.

"That is hardly all you did for a dragon," Valyrym said, lifting his head to smirk down at her. Then he licked his nose, tilting his head a little. "You are not going to regret your actions, are you?"

Kaylen pursed her lips, thinking about the question. She twisted some black hair around one of her fingers, then smirked. "Well I didn't get any stains on my lovely new clothes, so no, I don't think so." She shrugged a moment. "Maybe I should, I don't know. But regretting things that can be so enjoyable just seems so...Illandran." She gestured towards Alia. "I don't think I'd regret anything that didn't hurt anyone."

"So you regret kicking me in the balls?" Valyrym grinned at her.

"Not in the least, you scaly ass," Kaylen grinned right back. "But I also don't regret making it up to you. Pleasuring a dragon doesn't seem like something I'd get many chances to try after all. And since neither you nor Alia seem to be the jealous type, I don't see much reason to regret anything. Perhaps if I had only just met you, I might feel otherwise. How long did you and Alia know each other before you...well you know, did we what just did?"

Valyrym glanced at Alia, unsure if she wanted him to answer that question honestly or not. When Alia only shrugged, Valyrym turned his golden gaze back to Kylaryn. He flared his spines a little. Might as well embarrass his love, if she was willing to allow it. "Actually, Alia took me into her mouth the first day she met me."

"The first day?" Kaylen gave gasp that was nearly a squeak, bolting up right ahead. She twisted around to give Alia a wicked grin. "And you said I was quick to jump into bed with a man! I've never done that on the first day!"

"What about that southern traveler you met down at Jena's bar?" Alia folded her arms under her breasts, grinning. "You told me the next day he plowed your field better than it had been tilled in months!"

"Plowed my field?" Kaylen burst out laughing at that particular analogy. She certainly hadn't put it that way. But she rather liked it, perhaps she'd have to steal that one. By now the lightly bronzed tone of her cheeks was nearly permanently tinted crimson thanks to the steady grasp of both excitement and embarrassment. "That was different!"

"How was it different?" Alia pushed herself to her feet, walking to the tub. She dipped a hand in to see if the water was still hot.

Kaylen picked herself up as well, patting Val's haunch. "I was drunk!"

"That doesn't make a difference," Alia argued through her laughter. "Sex on the first date is sex on the first date."

"It wasn't a date!"

"That makes it worse!"

"Then what does it make what you and Valyrym did the first day you met him?" Kaylen picked up a faded blue pillow from the pile and tossed it playfully at her friend.

Alia caught it, and motioned as though she was going to throw it right back. When Kaylen went to duck, Alia pivoted and hurled it at Valyrym's head instead. The dragon yelped and Alia laughed, gesturing towards the tub. "That was simply my special Warden's Dragon-Pacification technique. Nothing subdues a wicked beast like a good, exhausting orgasm."

"She has a point there," Valyrym said, rolling over to his feet. A few droplets and blobs of spent dragon cream dribbled from his belly scales down onto the stone floor. He padded towards tub, glaring at Alia the whole way. "I suppose you're going to make me scrub my soft things while I'm in there?"

"Yes, you should scrub your balls while you're in there," Kaylen grinned at him. "Though I've never heard anyone call them his soft things before."

"I wasn't talking about my..." Valyrym trailed off when he realized Kaylen was probably teasing him. "Oh, get mounted."

"Now that might make Alia jealous," Kaylen said, walking over to stroke the dragon's scales a little. "Besides, I rather doubt it fits. Does it?"

Alia bit her lip, glancing at Valyrym. She spoke up before he had a chance to answer. "We haven't tried. I'm a little nervous to do so, actually."

"Well you couldn't take it all, obviously," Kaylen said, ducking a bit to peer at the dragon's sheath. His length had mostly retreated by now. "But you could probably take some of it."

"Till he starts thrusting," Alia snickered. "I've caught him humping things before, and the ferocity with which he does so is both exhilarating and terrifying."

"Alia!" Valyrym hissed. "Feel free to discuss your thoughts on sex all you want, but leave my embarrassing masturbatory habits out of it."

"Really?" Kaylen asked, completely ignoring the dragon. "What does he hump?"

"These furs, mostly." Alia gestured to some of the dragon's sleeping furs. She crouched down, picked a few of them up, and tossed them into the tub. "Why do you think they need to be washed?"

"I just assumed because they smelled like old dragon." Kaylen giggled to herself, and turned to watch Valyrym make his way into the tub. "I should rather like to watch him hump something actually."

"Would you?" The dragon turned his head, a few spines flared up as he offered Kaylen a rather wicked smile. "I should not mind masturbating for an audience."

"I'll invite Thomas and Vatch, then!"

"A female audience," Valyrym amended himself when Kaylen teased him. "Perhaps you two could pleasure yourselves as well, and we could all watch each other." He soon turned his wicked grin to Alia. "It certainly worked for Kylaryn and I when she was in season."

"Kylaryn?" Kaylen knew the general history of Valyrym's family now, if not the deeply personal details. "She was an old mate of yours, right?"

"She was," Valyrym said, standing half way in the tub. His fore legs were in the water but his hind paws were still upon stone. "We already had one hatchling, at the time, and did not want to try raising another while he was still so young. Dragons can mate at any time for pleasure..."

"Obviously," Kaylen said, sticking her tongue out as if to both tease the dragon, and remind him of what she'd just done for him.

"True enough." Valyrym chuckled. "But when she was in season, that is when she was receptive to my seed, she would sleep in another cavern till it passed. Sometimes I visited her, and we watched each other masturbate like curious little younglings. So if you should like to watch me, I should like to watch you as well."

Valyrym hoisted up a hind leg and stepped over the tub wall, but before he could step over with the last hind paw, Kaylen deftly reached out and grasped his testicles in a hand. Valyrym gave a startled and very un-dragon-like squeaking yelp. Kaylen rolled the plump orbs around in her hand a little, watching the hefty ovoids shift about inside the ebony sack. Valyrym tried not to squirm, his tail twisting.

Valyrym slowly turned his head back to glare at her, his fangs raised. "Unhand my testicles!"

"He really does have a lovely pair of apples, doesn't he Alia," Kaylen said, grinning at her friend and completely ignoring the dragon. "I could get used to the idea of getting hold of a dragon's balls anytime I want."

"Sort of empowering, isn't it," Alia giggled.

"It really is," Kaylen said in agreement, gently isolating one of the orbs in the sack to examine if. "Though kicking them was even more so."

"Do you think pleasuring me once gives you the right to fondle my privates any time you wish?" The dragon snorted, tossing his horned head.

"Yes," Kaylen said, smirking at the dragon. "And they're hardly that private the way you flash them about at everyone. You said yourself you rather enjoy having people stare at them."

"So I did," the dragon said, chuckling. "If you'd like to strip off your clothing, and get in this tub with me, I shall let you play with them all you want."

"In that filthy water?" Kaylen released the dragon's balls, and let him finish climbing into the tub. "I don't think so."

"It isn't filthy." Valyrym splashed a little as he turned around inside the tub so that he was facing Kaylen. He slapped his paw against the surface, splashing her a little. "Not yet, anyway."

Kaylen yelped and danced away from the tub. "If you ruin my new clothes, dragon, I'll climb in that tub just to spend the rest of the day squeezing those balls!"

Valyrym merely smirked at her, and lashed his spined tail against the water so that a spray of wet, soapy foam exploded out and splattered both women. Kaylen yelped once again and Alia just laughed. By now she wouldn't expect anything else from the dragon. Valyrym made a noise like a cross between a snarl, and a purr as he glared at Kaylen. "You are welcome to try."

When Kaylen felt she was safely out of the danger zone, she put her hands on her hips, glaring right back at the dragon. "I'm starting to think Alia's right. I think you do enjoy having girls abuse your balls!"

"I enjoy having girls play with my balls, anyway." Valyrym flared his wings out at his sides, spreading out over the entirety of the tub.

"He enjoys having girls talk about his balls," Alia giggled. "It feeds his ego. Makes him feel like he's got a larger set."

"Oh, so the more we talk about them, the more he feels like he's actually got a pair worth being proud of."

"Nice try," the dragon purred to himself. He folded his wings, settled down upon his haunches, and snatched up a floating cloth to scrub at his messy belly scales. "But you already told me you think they're lovely."

"Actually," Alia said to Kaylen, gesturing at the dragon as though he wasn't right there nearby. "He doesn't really want you to try squeezing his balls. But he does want to trick you into getting naked for him. He's a dirty thing you know, loves to see human girls naked."

"I can't say I'm surprised." Kaylen clucked her tongue and shook her head as though Alia had just confirmed some long held suspicion. "Unfortunately for that filthy beast, I'm not setting one foot in that foul water."

"What about after we drain the tub, and fill it with fresh water?" Valyrym paused in his scrubbing to watch the other two girls. "If you do not join me in the tub, I can not thank you as easily."

"You've already thanked me, Dragon," Kaylen said, snickering.

"Not with my tongue, I haven't."

Kaylen's eyes went wide, and she quickly turned to look at Alia. "Is he..."

Alia smiled as innocently as she could. "I don't know why you're looking at me. I didn't make up the rules that dragons play by."

"Dragons express their gratitude for receiving pleasure by giving pleasure back, you see," Valyrym explained, rubbing the cloth up and down against his chest plates. "If you don't want it, that's fine. But if you do, you're going to have to get in this tub."

Kaylen wrung her hands together. The idea of letting the dragon use his tongue on her certainly kept the moist heat between her thighs from diminishing any. "I'm not sure that Alia..."

"If Alia did not like the idea of my reciprocation, she would not have allowed you to pleasure me in the first place," Valyrym said with a little chuckle. "She knows the rules dragons play by almost as well as I do."

"Is that...common for you dragons?" Kaylen squirmed a little, adjusting her skirt. All sorts of delightfully vivid, wickedly erotic images played out in her mind. "Pleasuring each other like that? ...In a group?"

"It depends on the dragons, and what number they are in. But we have no stigma against group pleasure, no." Valyrym flicked the cloth in the air, flinging a few droplets of dirty water towards the two women. "It is you humans who seek to complicate things by making up extra morals to interfere with the mating process." He went back to scrubbing himself, now working the cloth down the scutes of a fore limb. "Not that all human morals are bad, mind you. I'm quite fond of your idea of doing unto others as they do to you. Even if the majority of humans in this land don't understand it themselves."

Kaylen came forward, setting her hands on the edge of the tub. "So you dragons don't have any principals at all?"

Valyrym paused, the cloth laying still against his front leg. Principals. An interesting term. He gave a little sigh, his neck curling into an S shape as he peered down at Kaylen. "Oh, dragons have principals alright. Blood For Blood is a draconic principal. So perhaps we are not the best example." Then he allowed himself a little smile. "But our mating principals are better."

Valyrym went back to scrubbing, and Kaylen knew enough not to press him about the meaning behind his words even before Alia shot her a look and shook her head. "So what are these mating principals?"

"Shared pleasure must always be willing, for one." Valyrym said, switching the cloth from one paw to the other. "For another, if it is given to you, you should offer it in return." He scrubbed his other paw a moment, then grinned at the girls. "Which brings me back to, are you going to get in this damn tub with me or not?"

"Perhaps when the water is clean again," Kaylen said, reaching out to stroke the dragons nose. He lowered his head to allow her to do so, and as if just to encourage her to take him up on his offer, Valyrym slowly licked each of her fingers in turn. Kaylen shivered, giggling. "That tongue does seem...quite nice."

Valyrym slowly pulled his head back, glancing around. "Cleaning my bedding would be faster with three of you in here."

"It would also be faster if you'd stop begging, and start scrubbing!" Alia called out, hurling another pillow at him. This one bounced right off the dragon's nose. He jerked his head back in surprise, clutching his snout with a paw as the pillow splashed into the water. "Now get started, dragon, or no naked girls for you for a week!"

"You couldn't last that long," Valyrym muttered, but began to do as Alia said.

As Valyrym finally started to do some real work, Alia and Kaylen worked to dump the rest of the pillows, furs, blankets, and other various soft things into the soapy water. While the dragon was hardly adept or experienced at doing laundry, he did the best he could. Val plucked an old animal hide out of the water, and with his paws he worked the warm, soapy froth into the fur. When he considered it to be about as clean as he could get it, he passed it to Alia. She took it and rinsed it in the clean water redirected around the tub while the sluice gates were closed. When it was rinsed, she laid it out nearby to start drying.

"I think we're going to have to set up a laundry line, or something," Alia mused, hands on her hips as she surveyed the area. "Once we're done with the tub we can probably lay most of these things out across the walls of it to dry, but a few lines would make it easier."

The dragon continued to wash his bedding, and soon voices were drifting towards them. The conversation was still unintelligible, but the voices were distinct enough for Kaylen and Alia to realize that Thomas and Vatch were returning to the dungeon. Kaylen harrumphed and put her hands on her hips. "Oh, damn. Well there goes my chance at repayment."

Valyrym turned himself, sloshing in the water. "Oh? Going to take me up on my offer, where you?"

"I was considering it," Kaylen admitted. "While the others were away."

"I tried to tell you," the dragon said with a chuckle. "You should have gotten in here while you had the chance."

"And then Thomas would have caught me in there with you! Speaking of which, you should shut up before Thomas hears you," Kaylen muttered.

"Why does it matter if he does? He knows about Alia and I, does he not?"

"Yes, but that's not the point."

Valyrym snorted, slapping a paw against the ground. "Then I do not understand the problem. Come here and let me pleasure you. Perhaps he will enjoy watching."

"Oh no!" Kaylen shook her finger at Valyrym, her brows knitted together as she scowled. "He's not getting to watch anything at all like that."

"Why not? I should wager he would also get aroused. Perhaps he would let you watch him masturbate, as well."

At that point Kaylen's face flushed an even deeper hue than it had all throughout her activities with Valyrym. She whirled away from him, her red and white skirt swishing around her ankles. She balled her hands up into fists at her sides and huffed. For a moment Valyrym was confused, and then he caught on. The dragon rumbled a laugh and returned to his scrubbing. Valyrym grinned at Kaylen's back while he worked some soap into his lilac toned pillow.

"Ah," the dragon said in a smug but silken voice. "Now I see why you and he fight so much. You have grown to care for him."

"I have not," Kaylen said, refusing to look at the dragon.

"You have, and you don't know how to admit it to yourself." The dragon laughed again. "That is alright. It will come to you in time." Valyrym tossed one of the wet blankets out of the tub towards Kaylen. It landed near her feet with a soggy splatter. She yelped and jumped, whirling back around at him, anger flashing in her eyes. But before she could say anything, Valyrym waved at the sodden blanket with his paw. "I suggest you use that to do a little cleaning if you don't wish them to know what the three of us just did."

A look of confusion flickered across Kaylen's face. Vaylrym pointed to the place on the floor he'd been laying. Several whitish blobs here and there still marked the floor. A trail of similar droplets led from the place where Valyrym had been laying all the way over to the tub. Taken as a whole, the evidence seemed fairly damning.

"Oh balls," Kaylen cursed. She snatched up the soggy blanket, and began to swiftly clean up as much of the mess as she could.

Kaylen had just dropped the blanket back into the tub by the time Thomas and Vatch were nearing them. Each of them carried a basket positively stuffed with soaps and scented oils, wash clothes and lotions, and soft brushes for scrubbing stubborn stains.

"Hello, everyone!" Thomas called out. "Sorry we were gone so long. As Alia suggested, I took Vatch into town to help me buy some serious cleaning supplies." Thomas peered into the murky looking water and made a face. "Just in the nick of time, by the look of it."

"Yes," Valyrym agreed, making a show of glaring at Alia. "Why haven't you allowed me to empty out this filthy water yet?"

"Oh, hoist your tail and get stuffed, Dragon," Alia muttered, kicking the sluice gate open. Water began to pour out, and Alia snatched up a few blankets and things that tried to escape with it.

"Certainly not," Valyrym said, as though offended. "That is more Korvarak's sort of game, anyway."

Alia burst out laughing, though everyone else just gave the two of them a blank look. Alia waved dismissively at them. No sense trying to explain that kind of inside joke to the others. She called for Kaylen to come ensure none of the dragon's bedding was washed out with the dirty water, and then she went to stoke the heating stoves. Soon enough, fresh hot water was flowing in to displace the dirty and cooling water. Thomas and Vatch both began to throw some new soap into the tub as well as jarfuls of scented cleansing oils. Thomas even pulled out a soggy old green pillow, and showed Vatch how to use one of the brushes to begin scrubbing it clean.

Once Vatch was occupied, Thomas glanced over at Kaylen. "Why were you washing the floor a minute ago?"

"Washing the floor?" Kaylen looked away as though distracted by something more interesting than her friend. "I've no idea what you're talking about."

"Did you all do something naughty while we were away?"

"Certainly not, Thomas," Kaylen said with what she hoped sounded like a derisive snort. Just how much did Thomas know, anyway? "We've been working quite hard while you've been off gallivanting about town."

Alia smiled as her friends bantered. She gave Thomas a hug, and let him continue to interrogate Kaylen. She had every intention of staying neutral in that particular battle, and so would the dragon if he was wise. Alia patted Vatch on the head and rubbed him between his ears a little before she walked around to the other side of the tub, stepping over and ducking under the makeshift pipes in the process. When she reached the far side of the tub, she gestured for Valyrym's attention, and then signaled him to approach her.

"Yes, my dear?" Valyrym murmured softly as he lowered his horned head and pressed it into Alia's waiting hands.

Alia just smiled to him a moment. She let one hand roam down his long neck, gently stroking the scales there a little. Then she ran her fingers back up his throat, scratching under his chin. Still silent, she worked her hands around the sides of his head, gently caressing his frilly crests, toying with little spines here and there before she stroked his nose and muzzle. Soon, Valyrym was happily purring up a storm for her, blissfully ignorant of the amusingly innuendo filled argument going on just beyond him.

Alia leaned down and kissed the end of the dragon's nose. "I'm going to talk to the Queen tomorrow."

Valyrym grunted, flicking his golden eyes upwards a little to meet her green ones. Hope sparkled brightly in Alia's emerald gaze. "Still planning to chase that particular goose, are you?"

"I've been granted an appointment with her tomorrow afternoon." Alia smiled a little wider, cupping the dragon's cheeks with her hands.

"And what, you think she'll order my wall to be torn down so that I may simply..." The dragon lifted a dripping paw from the water, and tapped a few claws along the top of the tub wall as though prancing his digits across a tiny walkway. "Walk out of here? After all I've done?"

"No," Alia said softly, stroking the scutes of the dragon's leg. "But it doesn't hurt to present my case for your right to freedom. To ask her to consider the circumstances." Alia gently rubbed the puffy, pink scar on the dragon's nose where the whip had cut him so deeply. "To ask her to consider that the same king who put you here once ordered you to be treated fairly."

Valyrym closed his eyes, pressing his muzzle against Alia's hands. Even with Thomas and Kaylen arguing, and even with Vatch chittering to himself as he scrubbed pillows clean, Valyrym could almost imagine himself alone with Alia. She simply had that effect on him now. Her comfort was everything to him. It eased his burdens and it soothed his pain, and it quelled his fears. She was his oasis.

"Very well, Alia," Valyrym said softly, not opening his eyes. "You realize this may come back and bite you right on your soft-skinned ass, right?"

"Nothing great is without risk, Valyrym." Alia cradled the dragon's chin in her hand, lifting his head a little. When Valyrym opened his eyes to thin golden slits, Alia smiled at him. "There was a time, Valyrym, when you risked everything you had to fight for those you care about. Yet I have seen no one in your life who was willing to fight for you, when you needed them. I am changing that Valyrym. more than anything, I am going to fight for you with every breath I have. Yes, I will take a risk asking the Queen to free you. But it a danger I am happy to dive headlong into if it means I am fighting for the one I have come to care so deeply for."

As Alia spoke, her voice rose with heated passion and love and strength she felt as though she'd never truly known until she grew to love Valyrym. She flicked her eyes to the others, and realized they were making a point not to look at her now. With a smile, she kissed Valyrym's nose once more. "This is not the time nor place for this conversation. But know, my dear dragon, that I will fight for you with very beat of my heart for the rest of my existence. Because no matter what you may think of yourself, I know in my own heart your punishment has been terrible enough. And now..." Alia waved her hand at the dungeon beyond them. "Now you deserve better than this."

Valyrym smiled a little, pressing his head against her body. The dragon purred to her, his eyes closed. He did not argue. He did not tell her that he loved her for he would not allow himself to breathe the words aloud just yet. But the feeling was there, and his heart was warmed more by the day to know that it was not a feeling that went unrequited. "I may not agree, but...I shall not argue."

"Thank you. Then before I see the Queen, my lovely dragon," Alia said, stroking his nose. "I need you to do something for me."

"What is it?" Valyrym tilted his head a little, his horn bumping Alia's shoulder.

"I need you show me where you've made the marks in your wall that count the snowfalls." Valyrym tensed. Alia knew he wouldn't like the idea, but she felt it was a question she had to have an answer to. She had to tell the Queen. "I have to know how long you've been imprisoned here. I need to know just how many years of your life you have lost to this place."

Valyrym slowly pulled his head back from her, and gave her a long, hard stare. Old pain and new fear suddenly flared to life in his golden eyes. They flickered like old coals giving life to new flame. They both knew what that would mean. Valyrym had long since given up counting the years, though he added a new mark each winter. If Alia counted them, then Valyrym would have a much better idea of just how old he'd really gotten. And that, in turn, would give the old dragon a much better idea of just how much life he had left to live.

Dragons did not often count their years because they had so many of them to cherish. But at the same time, they did not count their years because to do so would tell them how close they were getting to their own end. Dragons did not like to know when the end of their long natural lives might be approaching. The gradual encroachment of aches and pains and graying scales was reminder enough without keeping track of the centuries.

But for Alia...for Alia, Valyrym would do anything. "So be it, Alia. Tonight I shall let you count my years."

---

Late at night, after Thomas and Kaylen and Vatch had all returned to their own quarters Valyrym lead Alia to his sleeping chamber. He'd left a few furs and blankets there to serve as his bedding while the rest of his soft things were laid out to dry. One by one, he pulled them aside, revealing an old sigil carved into the bedrock of the floor upon which he slept. It was different than the sigils Alia had seen or heard described before. Laid out around it were a few sets of assorted lines and marks cut into the stone.

"Those were the first," Valyrym explained, before he went and began to carefully move aside some of his shelves and various crates. "The rest I began to put where I wouldn't have to look at them anymore."

While the old dragon moved things aside, Alia peered down at the unfamiliar sigil carved where the dragon slept. A diamond inside a circle, with several angular, intersecting lines woven within it. It did not look Aran'alian. Alia crouched down and ran her fingers across a few of the lines. "This isn't a sigil from my homeland, is it?"

"No," the dragon replied without glancing back. He moved a heavy crate aside. "It is a dragon rune."

"Oh," Alia said, standing back up. "What does it mean?"

Valyrym gradually pulled aside one of the old, burled walnut bookshelves. He dragged it only a few inches at a time, clutching the side of it with a fore paw. He was careful not to wobble it and send his books toppling to the floor. Behind it lay a wall almost entirely covered with sets of marks carved into the stone to count the snowfalls and the many years he'd spent alone. When the bookshelf was moved aside, Valyrym turned around and began to walk towards the exit.

In a soft voice, the dragon said, "Count my years, Alia. But keep them to yourself." As he brushed past her, she stroked his scales a little, and he flicked his tail towards the symbol she had questioned. "Penance. It means penance."

Valyrym left Alia behind to count the years. It was a tally he did not wish to know. Valyrym had left a single mark for each winter that came to remind himself of the day when Valar's stitches had been removed. Valyrym had kept track of them for the first few decades. Yet when enough time had passed even a dragon began to realize his life was slipping away. Though Valyrym felt he deserved to spend his life here, he did not wish to know just how many years he had truly lost to this place. How many years he had gone without seeing his family.

How many years he had left.

Dragons lived a long time, and in truth they held no exact measure of their span. Amaleen had once told him a human would be lucky to see an entire century pass. Dragons who did not lose their lives early to unnatural causes saw far more years than that. But they had no accurate knowledge their own life expectancy. Three centuries was not an unexpected length of time for a healthy dragon to continue to draw breath. Valyrym was not even sure he'd consider a three hundred year old dragon to be all that greatly aged. Five hundred was likely far closer to a dragon's potential life expectancy. A dragon who had seen five centuries was getting to be a very old dragon indeed.

As Valyrym padded out of his sleeping chamber, and back to the torchlight prison beyond it, he tried to think back on his own life. Just how old had he been when he'd first claimed the road in Aran'alia? At least a century or so, he thought. Some time had passed and then he met Lenira. Another human's lifetime had passed after that, before he'd gotten to know Amaleen. And in the span of time since he first met her and she was eventually taken from him, a few more decades had passed. And then he was taken away and put in this horrible place for any number of decades. Somehow, Valyrym suspected there more marks on that wall than he'd ever imagined.

Valyrym briefly wondered how much time he had left. If he was to spend the rest of his days in this place, he hoped he would have time to watch Alia grow old. Perhaps they could even grow old together. The dragon chuckled, tossing his head a little. Wouldn't that be different. Valyrym lifted his paw and gazed at it. Smudges of gray tipped the fine scales at the end of each of his fingers. They seemed to have spread further then he last recalled. Valyrym sighed to himself, and shook his horned head. What was he thinking, growing old with Alia.

No, Valyrym had already grown old.

Valyrym's paw trembled a little as he stared at it. With an irritable growl, he finally set his paw back down. Valyrym took a few more steps and found himself walking along his timeline. He hadn't intended to go there, yet it was where he often ended up when left alone with his thoughts. So many years he had spent carving it in the stone, and for what? A reminder of his own life, and all the places he'd gone wrong. Not that anyone else would care about the life of a dragon. Other than Alia, perhaps. He allowed himself a smile at that.

Valyrym had nearly finished carving Alia into his wall. Her face shone at the end of it, like a beacon of bright hope at the end of a long, dark tunnel. He was glad to have her there. For so many years now there had been nothing at the end of that timeline but pain, loneliness, and anger. Now, at last, there was something hopeful to light his way.

Hopeful. That was not a bad idea.

Valyrym considered that as he limped up and down along the wall, inspecting his many carved images. As usual, he soon came to a stop near one of his favorite images of Valar. Where his son looked happy and cheerful, his wings half stretched, gazing in a pond full of fish. No doubt planning to drag them out one by one and smoke them himself. If only he could. Valyrym smiled, a twinge of sorrow tugging at his heart. His throat tightened a little, and the dragon forced himself to swallow. He reached out and gently pressed his paw to the image of his son.

"How old would you be now, my Love?" Valyrym murmured aloud. "Do you have a family, I wonder? Can you fly? ...Are you happy? ...I hope you're happy." He licked his nose, and pulled his paw away, then began to limp back towards the end of his timeline. "...Are you even alive?"

Along the way, he glanced up to the last image he'd ever carved of Kylaryn on the timeline. She looked small in the picture. It was the last time he'd seen her, as well. He remembered it so clearly. When he was leaving Sigil Stones to claim his bloody revenge, and he took one last look down at her. She looked so sad, even in the image. Valyrym found himself feeling an odd mixture of guilt and pride. Even now, he felt guilty for what he'd done, and the way he'd left her. And yet the dragon could not help being proud of how well he'd captured that emotion in his depiction.

Valyrym lifted his paw and gently pressed his pads to the carved lines of Kylaryn's image. "And what about you, you azure enigma? What have you gotten yourself wrapped up in now?"

Soon, the dragon wandered the rest of the way down his time line. His tail swayed behind him, and now and then the spines rattled against the stone wall. When he reached the image of Alia he was carving he turned to face the wall and settled upon his haunches. For a while, he simply stared at her face. Even in stone, he looked beautiful. Valyrym hoped the kindness she had always shone him came through in her carved eyes. He wanted anyone who ever saw this to know how well she'd treated him. What she'd come to mean to him.

How many years did he have left with her? With a hissing laugh of bitter amusement, the dragon though it would be somehow fitting if Alia came to outlive him. All these decades alone, accepting his punishment only to finally find someone else to care for. And wouldn't that just be the way of the wind.

"Sorry, dragon." Valyrym murmured aloud, as if giving voice to the wind that carries. "We know you've grown to love again at last, but your time is nearly up. Enjoy your last few years while you can."

Valyrym snarled to himself, anger and bitterness rising inside him. He pressed a paw to his head, between his horns. His heart felt tight, and his belly shook as though it was filled with bubbles. The dragon took a deep breath till the barrel of his chest expanded so far his scales nearly parted and all his old gray scars stood out. Valyrym held his breath till the effort grew painful. He lashed his tail against the floor, his spines clattering and scraping little lines in the stone. When he finally exhaled, he was able to relax just a little.

Trying to keep himself from sinking too deeply into depression, Valyrym sought to focus himself. He wanted to carve something new, something hopeful. Valyrym studied the wall a little while. A bevy of ideas and images tumbled through his head yet he discarded each in turn. Finally he settled upon something that seemed both hopeful, and simple enough to carve without sketching ahead of time. The dragon smiled to himself, and pressed his paws to the lower section of the stone wall. He slowly began to cut the first line.

By the time Alia left his sleeping chamber, Valyrym had already carved a few of the first base lines to the image. They were a few curving, sloping lines, but they were just enough to give the general impression of a blunt little dragon's muzzle. The sort that a toy might have. And in fact that was just what he was carving.

"It's going to be Little Ky," Valyrym said aloud as Alia walked up to him. That toy had given him something great to hope for, after all. "Then I'm going to carve one of you, holding her to your chest and smiling." Valyrym licked his muzzle, and smiled a little as well at the thought. "But I'm going to need to sketch that one first, to make sure I get it right."

Valyrym slowly turned his head towards Alia. Her green eyes looked tearful, and a little blood shot. Her cheeks were reddened, and when she sniffled it was clear she'd been crying. Valyrym's heart sank a little for her. He must have been older than he thought. Without asking he simply turned towards her, flopped down onto his side and pulled her against him. Alia lay down against the dragon and buried her face in his scales, wrapping her arms around the base of his neck.

As Alia began to cry against the dragon's scaled body, he put a foreleg around her, and then ever so slowly enclosed her in his wings. Valyrym clutched her tightly to himself. "Shush," Valyrym whispered to her. "It is alright. It is only age, Alia." The dragon sighed, and stroked her back with a front paw.

Though there was no one there to see her crying, Valyrym kept her wrapped in his wings just the same. It was as much a gesture of love and protection as a dragon could offer another. To use their precious wings to shield their loved one from all the world could hurl at them. It was a gesture Valyrym was happy to offer Alia for all his remaining days.

When at last Alia had stopped crying, he pulled his wings back just a little. Valyrym tilted his head down to gaze upon her, and Alia managed a small grin. "I'm sorry, you old beast," she said, giggling just a little. "I didn't mean to come to you in tears. I know you didn't want to know the count."

"And you haven't told me. Though..." H swallowed, trying to dislodge the seemingly ever present lump in his throat. "I suspect I have an educated guess."

Alia merely nodded. She lay her cheek against his chest plates. With one hand, she idly stroked his scales. "They fought on, you know."

For a moment Valyrym was confused. He tilted his head the other way, swiveling his frilled ears forward. "Who fought on?"

Alia smiled up at him. "My people. Your people. Aran'alia." She lifted her hand and stroked the dragon's cheek. "You were here long before Aran'alia truly became part of Illandra. So Death In The Night must have fought on for a long time before Illandra made it official."

"They still fight, from the sounds of it," Valyrym murmured.

Alia only nodded, and kissed the dragon's chest plates a few times. "I'm sorry if I upset you."

Valyrym only pulled his wings tighter around her once more. "You would never upset me now, Alia."

For a little while, the two of them shared silence, comfort, and warmth. Valyrym watched Alia the whole time even as she closed her eyes and simply savored the sound of his heartbeat. A ghost of a smile spread across her lips, and Valyrym tilted his head.

"What are you smirking at?"

"For an old man, you still have an awfully strong sounding heart." Alia giggled just a little, and Valyrym shared her laughter. "You're old, Valyrym. But you're strong, and healthy, and you still have a lot of life left to live. One way or another, I will see you live free again."

Valyrym did not know how to respond to that. He sniffed once. His throat was tight, his ears and crests flushed hot. In so many ways, Alia was just like Amaleen. She always knew how to cut straight through his armor and through his sarcasm. She cut through all his fears and laid him bare before her eyes. Just like Amaleen, she always knew how to find his heart, and how to warm it. And just like Amaleen...

Superstition be damned. Alia deserved better. Alia deserved to hear it.

"I love you, Alia." Valyrym lowered his head to press his muzzle to her face.

Alia's emerald eyes widened when she heard the dragon speak his feelings aloud. She grasped at his head, and pressed her lips to his nose, smiling.

"I love you too, Valyrym."

---

Chapter Eleven

As Alia sat waiting anxiously to meet the Queen, she found her thoughts drifting to Valyrym and the many decades he'd spent locked away beneath the city. Valyrym was old. Older even than Alia expected, and older than the dragon himself realized. Alia tried to keep herself focused. Any time now, she would be called back to meet with the Queen and wanted to be ready. Yet the more anxious for the encounter she grew, the more she found herself counting all those years over again in her head. Then she recalled what Valyrym told her afterwards. A smile flitted across her face, a flush tinted her cheeks.

Valyrym loved her.

The thought actually made Alia laugh. It was a bubbling, happy laugh tinted with disbelief, and it drew an odd look from the guard standing nearby. Alia waved sheepishly at him and shook her head, glancing away. She wondered if the Queen's Guards saw many mad Aran'alian women waiting to meet the Queen, or if it was just her.

Trying to distract herself from her thoughts and the nervousness inherent to meeting with the Queen herself, Alia turned her attention to the room in which she sat. Given that the antechamber was designed exclusively for those about to have an audience with the Queen, Alia was not surprised to see how well appointed it was. Each wall was heavily paneled in dark wood, cut with a raised diamond pattern. It gave the illusion that the walls themselves were covered in giant, earth toned scales. Both the door she'd entered from and the door which lead to the Queen's reception area were paneled in the same diamond scale pattern. It gave the impression that the room was some sort of secret chamber accessed only by unknown means.

Here and there shelves were tucked away in hidden recesses, and each alcove held its own little treasure. A glittering gemstone on a crystalline pedestal here, a gold and ruby chalice there. Thanks to carefully positioned lamps hung from elegantly arched golden poles, each valuable trinket had a chance to shine.

A single row of chairs sat along one of the walls. Each was carved of ebony, and covered with silken cushions the color of red wine. Each chair also bore armrests carved into a different shape. One chair's armrests were dragons staring across the room, another bore the heads of gryphons, or the twisted coils of a serpent. Not surprisingly Alia chose the chair with dragons.

On the wall across from the chairs hung several of the finest tapestries Alia had ever seen. The color and detail was incredible and they looked as though they were woven entirely from spun silk. The central tapestry itself depicted the infamous, five towered keep of Illandra shining in the light of the rising sun. Wisps of mist flirted with the towers, twining around them here and there. On either side of that tapestry were others depicting former monarchs. Anyone could have a portrait painted, but in Illandra, it seemed the royals had tapestries woven of them. Somehow, Alia doubted the two former kings depicted had ever actually looked so healthy and regal in reality.

Another wall held shelves covered with a variety of books both modern and antique. Alia was half tempted to rise from her seat and go peruse them. Probably some very interesting tomes kept in that collection. Though, despite the fact she was ostensibly in a waiting room, she could not help but imagine the guard would frown up on visitors disturbing what was probably a very valuable collection.

Granted, Alia had seen very little that wasn't valuable since being whisked away into the Central Keep. In addition to being located exactly where the name suggested, the Central Keep was the area of the castle where all the most powerful and influential people in Illandra lived and worked. That included of course the Queen, as well as her most direct relatives. It also included her various ministers and advisors, and the heads of the Illandran military who served the Queen directly. Some of them also had palatial homes throughout Illandra, but formally they lived inside the castle, in the Central Keep. The Central Keep was also home from time to time to some of the wealthiest noble families.

Until today, the Central Keep was one of few locations inside the castle Alia had never visited. All its entrances and exits were guarded all times, and visitors were always screened. In this instance, Alia could understand why. It wasn't simply that the Illandrans didn't want any lower class citizens wandering their hallowed halls. After all, assassins could be a very real fear for any important Illandran, let alone the Queen herself.

When Alia first arrived at the room which served as entry checkpoint to the Central Keep, she'd been searched for weapons. Then she'd been assorted by a guard through the hallways, and eventually to a waiting room outside the Queen's office. The deeper into the place they went, the more impressed and disgusted Alia was with the wealth on display. And she thought the rest of the castle was garish.

The hallways of the Central Keep were adorned with all manner of antique furniture carved from exotic woods or whisked away from foreign lands. Tables were adorned with bowls of gold and silver carved in detailed relief with images of wars and events of great importance. The walls were often decorated in massive paintings of far away landscapes, including a few that looked distinctly Aran'alian.

Here and there, display cases held fine weapons or decorative shields and helms. Other display cases held things that made Alia wince. Trophies from various creatures no doubt slain during Illandra's many conquering expeditions. Some of them, like scales, claws and teeth were clearly dragon in origin. In another place, a pair of dragon's horns were mounted to a mahogany plaque and hung from the wall. At least the dragon's head seemed to have been spared that fate. Some of the other body-parts turned trophy had origins Alia was unsure of. She knew well enough there were many beasts and creatures in the vast world that she would never lay eyes upon. With any luck, such creatures did not have loved ones to miss them the way the dead dragons might.

"Alia Silverrain?" A voice with the clear, steady tone of someone used to announcing guests all day long drew Alia from her thoughts. "Her Majesty will see you now."

Alia rose so swiftly she practically jumped out of her chair. "Th-thank you," she said, stammering just a little.

The door had opened so silently she hadn't even noticed it. She flicked her eyes towards it, warm light exuded through the doorway. An older man, one of the Queen's personal servants, stood waiting. His expression seemed completely passive. Whether he was impatient for Alia to join him or willing to wait all day until she'd gathered up enough nerves to actually speak to the Queen was impossible to say. He wore a purple and indigo shirt, the sleeves were a little puffy and the collar lightly frilled. He also wore trousers of black, with dark blue and golden stripes along the sides of them, tucked into rather ornate shoes with a wealth of golden buckles. Alia couldn't decide if he looked exceedingly formal or just foolish, but she knew well enough to keep such thoughts to herself.

Alia took a few steps towards the doorway, and felt her legs wobbling. Nervousness had clamped its icy grasp around her belly and was not letting go. Alia felt her stomach twist over and over as though someone were struggling to braid it. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. She couldn't let this take hold of her. She had a dragon to worry about. A dragon to care for.

A dragon that she loved.

Alia took another deep breath, holding it. Near the door, there was a tall body-length looking glass edged in silver so delicate it looked as though the mirror were only held aloft by wisps of ephemeral mist. She peered into the mirror a moment, examining herself. Before she knew it she was fidgeting with her appearance. Alia herself had dressed as formally as she could today. She wished to present herself not simply as a woman or an Aran'alian or an Illandran or anything else. No, she wished to present herself as Head Warden, here to present an official request to the Queen.

She wore a new dark green blouse that she'd picked up recently from Paulson. It lacked the black laces of her other green blouse, she found that a little too informal for such an encounter. This shirt was specifically cut to present a formal air. It was a simple thing, a lovely dark green shade with black buttons up the front and down the sleeves. Upon each shoulder she bore an oversized Warden's Emblem. Alia's breeches were a slate gray color, neutral in tone and formal in appearance. A black vertical stripe ran down the outside of each pant leg. Both blouse and trousers were chosen specifically because unlike many of Alia's other garments, they did little to showcase her form as a woman. Such was the way she wanted it. This was the Queen was visiting, not some leering treasurer or brothel mistress. Alia also wore a brand new pair of black boots with silvery-gray laces rather than buckles.

Alia tried to straighten her blouse out best she could. Then she fidgeted with her hair a moment. She'd trimmed the very ends off, and done the whole black mass up behind her head in the closest approximation to a very formal hairstyle she could manage on her own. She scowled at herself, not liking the way the lamplight in the room affected the color of her cheeks. The glow almost made her skin tone appear golden rather than lightly bronze, as though she'd done herself up in far too much makeup. Perhaps she should have put on a little rouge. It wasn't something she'd ever done before.

"Oh, damn," she muttered under her breath.

For the first time in a long time she also wore her heirloom necklace. It was a gift from her mother, one of the most precious possessions she had. One of the only things she had left of her mother, really. It was not totally uncommon for Aran'alians families to pass down jewelry and other heirlooms from the homeland, as it was one of the few things of value they might have been able to take on such a long journey all the way to Illandra. Alia curled her fingers around the blue sapphire pendant that lay in a coiled silver frame, hanging from a silver chain. She'd only worn it a few times before, and even then she usually kept it tucked under her shirt out of fear that someone might try and snatch it from her.

In the mirror, she saw the room's lone guard walking up behind her. Though there was only one of them in this particular room, just outside it there were dozens. Each of them more heavily armed than the last from what she could tell. None of them wore any sort of surcoat with Illandra's colors or anything. Rather, they simply wore armor and a lot of it at that. After all, they were here for one reason and one reason only. They were here to protect the Queen, and should they be needed, what good would wearing some indigo and black cloth over their armor do them?

The guard put a mail-covered hand atop Alia's shoulder. For a moment, old fears and instincts flared to life. Alia tensed, tightening her grip upon her pendant. She half expected to hear him say, "Oh, the Queen has just realized you're Aran'alian. I'll be throwing you out on your penniless ass, now." She tensed up, but did not move to pull away from his hand. At this point, the man could start groping her and she'd stand there and take it just because she did not want to lose her audience with the Queen.

Much to her pleasant surprise, the guard had no such intentions. Instead, he leaned down and whispered only comforting words to Alia. "Relax. She's only a person, after all. Maintain the proper respect but don't be intimidated." He gave her shoulder a little squeeze, and let her go. "She's a woman just like you. You'll do fine."

Alia glanced up at the guard. She couldn't make out his face through his helmet very well, but she smiled at him just the same, and whispered a thanks. Then she straightened her shoulders, and quickly walked to the door to meet the servant. He nodded and gestured for her to follow him. He lead her down a short, carpeted hallway with plenty of lamps, to another door. Alia imagined this hallway was to ensure that no one in the waiting room could eavesdrop upon the Queen's conversations in the room beyond. At the end of the hallway was a single wooden door, with a simple carving of the Five Towered Keep upon it. The man knocked, and when a guard inside opened the door, the man stepped forward, signaling for Alia to wait a moment longer.

"Your Majesty, may I present Alia Silverrain, Head Dragon's Warden." The servant gave a deep, elegant bow, and with a simple, nearly hidden flick of his fingers, beckoned Alia forward. Then he rose, turned to face Alia, and made a grand sweeping gesture with his hand. "Alia Silverrain, may I present Her Majesty, Queen Kathlyn The Second."

As Alia came forward and started to bow, the servant gave her a series of swift hand signals instructing her on how to present herself. He flicked his fingers towards her eyes, and then the floor. Then he gestured at her knee, and the floor once more, and put a hand across his own belly as if illustrating the beginning of a deep bow. Alia did her best to follow his silent instructions. She doubled over with her eyes to the floor, bowing as deeply as she could. She then lowered herself down to one knee before the Queen, keeping her eyes upon the floor. Which she noticed was carpeted in rich, faintly blue carpet. Rather nice, really. When she saw the servant kept his open palm towards her face, she realized he was instructing her not to move from that position just yet. All the hand gestures made her feel as though she were a dog being trained and yet she was glad to have them. She certainly knew little of the protocol involved with meeting royalty.

Then an interminable amount of time seemed to pass. It was as though seconds were crawling along as hours and Alia could feel the gradual contraction and expansion of each nervous beat of her heart. She could hear the occasional scratch of what sounded like quill against parchment for a little while, as well as familiar rattle and clank of armor. Turning her head a tiny bit, she could see a few more guards positioned at the corners of the room.

Finally, the Queen spoke. Her voice was measured and regal, but Alia thought she could also detect a note of amusement held within it. Perhaps the woman was simply tickled to have an Aran'alian so bold as to dare to address the Queen directly. Or perhaps Alia was just looking too deeply into so simple a statement.

"You may rise, Alia Silverrain."

The servant pulled his hand away from Alia's face. He deftly stepped to the side, bowed once more, and then vanished back down the hallway, closing the door behind himself. Strange, he hadn't been in the waiting room when Alia arrived, and she hadn't seen any other doors in that short hallway. Perhaps he had a secret passage that lead to an office. Or perhaps she was just letting her imagination get away with her.

Alia slowly rose to her feet, lifting her eyes as well. The Queen sat not upon some grand, regal throne, or in the midst of some grandiose hall with elegant marble columns rising to the ceiling. If anything, Valyrym's prison was more impressive than the room in which the Queen deigned to meet people. In fact, it appeared as though she took her audiences in a room that served as both office, and library for the woman.

The Queen sat behind a large, wrap-around desk topped with a brilliant, black marble surface. The outside of the desk was carved all across its face with fanciful scenes from Illandra's past, true events given a whimsical rather than historical spin. Alia rather doubted the founder of Illandra himself rode a dragon with the feathered wings of a bird, or sat down for tea and cake with God himself at any point in time. She was also certain Illandra's various military exploits never involved traversing a land filled with toadstools the size of ancient trees.

Upon the desk's black marble top sat all manner of books and papers. In fact the Queen seemed to have far more matters of importance than decoration atop her desk. Everything was neat and orderly, stacks of documents needing to be signed were kept in one pile beneath a paperweight of carved silver in the shape of a galloping stallion. Another stack of papers was held down by a weight cut seemingly from the same beautiful black marble as the top of the desk. That particular paperweight was in the form of a gryphon spreading his wings as though proud of their span. A vase at one side of the desk held a variety of writing quills, and Alia could not help but notice several of them were made from immense black plumes. The desk also held reports waiting to be read, and books in which all manner of information was logged.

All around the room the stone walls were not paneled in wood, but rather draped with a variety of thick animal hides from all around the world. Alia spotted easily recognizable hides from wolves and foxes, elk and deer, and pelts from bears as well. There were plenty more hides she could not immediately identify. In between the hides hung several thick looking, colorful quilts. None of them held any identifiable image, just abstract yet bright designs. They were beautiful in their own way but certainly not of the immaculate quality Alia would have expected of anything owned by a Queen.

In the corner of the room was a private hearth, though the day was warm enough there was no fire burning. The hearth itself was constructed of ill-fitting bricks of stone, each seemingly a little more misshapen than the last. Between the animal hides, the quilts, and the odd little hearth, the whole place felt as though it were someone's private den in some far flung lodge.

Adding to the effect were the massive bookshelves spread out behind the Queen. Though Alia suspected they were probably filled with a variety of boring topics such as taxation laws, diplomatic codes and various treaties, economic practices and so forth, she still couldn't help but enjoy the sight of such things in such an unexpected place.

"Alia Silverrain," the Queen said, a little smile flitting across her thin lips. "If you have come to request more food to fill the dragon's belly, I shall have to deny you. I shall also have to instruct you to tell him to slim down as he's put enough of a dent in our coffers over the years."

"Your Majesty," Alia said, unsure if the Queen were joking with her or not. "If the dragon were any slimmer when I had first been given this job, I should have accused the former Warden of malnourishing the dragon in order to skim funds for his own pocket. Though I would have done so in private as it is not polite to speak ill of the dead."

The Queen seemed to take that in stride, smiling just a little. Alia took the opportunity to look her over. Queen Kathlyn was not near as old as Alia had expected. As the royals made few public appearances, and the Aran'alians were hardly the sort to pay attention to images of their ancestors' oppressors, Alia had simply let her imagination wander when thinking of the Queen. Where she had expected an elderly woman, she found one perhaps only a little more than twice her own age. Her face was a little thin, and a little drawn, heavy lines of worry if not age marked it here and there. But her skin while pale still had a healthy tone, and her reddish hair, pulled behind her head with a golden brooch, held only streaks of gray. And her eyes were a rather unusual shade, a blue dark enough to be nearly purple. Such hues were not that common among Illandrans, and Alia thought perhaps it was a mark of her royal blood.

The Queen sat behind her desk in a chair with a high but not especially elegant back. The sandy brown wood was slightly curved, and the though the pale blue cushions matched the carpet beneath her feet, it was clear the chair was designed for comfort rather than expense. Best Alia could tell the Queen was wearing a lacy blue dress that was both elegant, and comfortable. A darker blue brocade in the shade of a graceful rose sprawled across the front of the dress. A few layers of lacy frill rolled down her sleeves as though she'd dipped her arms in frothy blue clouds then froze them there. Though it likely cost a fortune, it wasn't exactly the sort of stately attire she'd expected. In fact, very little of this Queen was what Alia expected.

Why, she wasn't even wearing a...

"You're wondering where my crown is, aren't you," the Queen said. Her voice held some of the prim and proper tone that seemed to be missing from her appearance.

Alia quickly bowed her head. "No, of course not, Your Majesty."

"Oh, don't be silly," The Queen cut her off, waving a hand. "It's usually an early topic of discussion with first time visitors." Slowly, a smile spread across her face. "I hate wearing that thing. Have you any idea how heavy gold is? Honestly it's quite the burden to have to bear for any extended period of time. And I do not say as much out of some sense of arrogance but rather in the literal sense. It gives me quite a neck cramp, you see."

Alia decided in that moment that she was going to like the Queen.

"I...I see," Alia replied, unable to help giggle a little bit.

"If it makes you feel any better, Alia," the Queen said, leaning back against her chair a little. "I do gussy myself up for diplomats and dignitaries, for foreign royalty and important events. And yes, I even put that god-awful crown upon my head for a time. But for my own people, for matters of less importance, and do not take offense for I mean that when compared to matters of state, I prefer to be...well, as you see here." Then she swept her hand over her desk. "I like this place, you see. It is quiet, and this is where I conduct most of my business. Therefore, I see it a fitting place to hold my audiences as well. Now, would I assume correctly in that you are here to discuss The Prisoner?"

"Yes, your Majesty, I am."

"Have a seat then." There were no seats available across the table from the Queen, but with a glance one of the guards was sent to fetch one. As he did so, the Queen explained, "I do not like looking up at people while I speak to them, and I do not wish to discuss matters with you while standing like some street corner gossip."

The guard fetched a small but comfortable chair and positioned it just across the desk from the Queen. As Alia thanked him and settled herself into the chair, the Queen busied herself opening a book with a plain blue cover and no title or inscription whatsoever. She also opened drawer and removed a leather bound files and set them aside. Finally, she fetched herself a fresh stack of parchment and pulled one of the black gryphon feather quills and pressed it into an inkwell.

"Very well, Alia." The Queen said, inclining her head slightly. "I'm curious to hear what you have to say. After all you've already made waves, as it were, since you were first given this job."

Alia blinked, all her carefully collected thoughts swept aside for the moment. "I have?"

"Ah yes," the Queen assured her, smiling. She waved her hand at one of the files she'd fetched. "I have here a collected stack of reports and assessments of your performance so far."

Alia reddened. "I was not aware I was being assessed."

"Everyone is being assessed, my dear." The Queen leaned back again and folded her hands into her lap. "Life is an assessment is it not? Of how we handle ourselves, how we conduct ourselves?"

"I suppose that's one way to put it, your Majesty."

"Indeed." The Queen leaned forward again, raising her brows. "You my dear are being assessed far more than anyone else. You are, after all, the first Aran'alian to attain any sort of meaning position within my government. Within any Illandran government, really, since we first conquered the place." The Queen tilted her head a little. "Do you know why you were given this job, Alia Silverrain?"

Alia hesitated, and so did her heart. This conversation was suddenly taking a not entirely pleasant turn. When her lungs began to burn, she realized she was holding her breath and let it out slowly. "No," she admitted. "I had always rather hoped it was because after I became a servant here, I had made a reputation for myself as an exceptionally hard worker, no matter the task I was given. But I am not so foolish as to think that is the only reason."

"Ah, but that is part of it," the Queen said with a smile. She lifted her eyes to the guards still in the room, and then inclined her head towards the door. "You may leave us. Close the door on your way out. I am not to be disturbed short of an emergency."

"Yes, your Majesty," replied the guards in unison.

With clanking armor and rattling chain mail they vacated the room swiftly. Alia found herself alone with the Queen she suddenly wasn't so sure about. Her mouth was dry, and her pulse was rising. She wished the Queen had some water to offer her. Instead, the Queen only had a stare that was filled with far more intensity than Alia would suspect one woman's eyes capable of. Ah. There was the regal, commanding aura Alia had expected a Queen to bear. And now it was all focused directly on her.

"Tell me what you wish to request of me with regards to The Prisoner," the Queen said, her voice like spider-silk, soft yet deceptively strong. "And I shall tell you why you were given this job."

Before coming to this meeting, Alia had prepared quite the case on Valyrym's behalf. She'd put together her arguments, and planned to lay them out before the Queen in neat, professional order. That though his crimes were great, they were also part of a war, and that in a war, leadership is a legitimate target. That the dragon had been imprisoned here a very long time, and had been tortured quite badly for much of that time. And that his punishment had now exceeded the life span that he had taken away. After all these years, he had suffered enough. It was time for Illandra to show that it could be as merciful as it could be powerful.

And yet when The Queen spoke that question, when her deep blue eyes bored into Alia's heart and soul with the same intensity that would pierce any enemy diplomat here to state his case for negotiation, Alia faltered. This was how Alia imagined it must be to speak with a Queen. Her simple quarters, her slightly playful demeanor, it was all but decoration upon a powerful, regal persona. Alia's words were like sand and the harder she tried to grasp them, the more the grains fell through her open fingers. She struggled to moisten her mouth and her throat as the Queen awaited an answer.

"I would request you to set the dragon free," Alia said, and immediately her heart sank. She could not possibly imagine botching something worse. She had perhaps a real chance to have royal backing for Valyrym's freedom, and surely she had just bungled it away with her own bumbling words and sudden nervousness.

The Queen did not even blink. At this point, she had settled into her role, and over her many years as monarch she had heard far more surprising things and far more unexpected pleas. "An interesting request." Her voice was not so much flat as it was simply even, with no hint of how she might view such an idea. "I take it you have solid reasoning to back up such an course of action?"

"I...I do...I mean..."

Alia grit her jaw. Damn it, Alia, she thought. Get hold of yourself. Even the guard outside said the Queen was just a woman like any other. Under that suddenly steely, hardened gaze there was a human heart. Alia told herself she had faced down worse. Hell, she'd faced down a dragon. The day she met Valyrym for all she knew he was a monster ready to pounce upon any sign of weakness and tear her apart. With a deep breath, Alia forced herself to draw upon that same pool of inner courage and bravery she'd once drawn upon the day she met Valyrym. At the time, she cast herself in a cloud of false bravado. But she had learned things about herself since that day, and there was nothing false about the brave, confident aura she began to wrap herself in now.

"I do your Majesty." Alia straightened herself in the chair, letting her gaze meet the Queen's. As the Queen did not chastise her or look away, it seemed she had chosen wisely. "I assure you, I would not waste Her Majesty's time with a frivolous request lacking in substantial reasoning for its suggestion in the first place."

A smirk twisted at the edge of the Queen's lips. "That is heartening to know, Alia Silverrain. I do not like having my time wasted. I shall hear your reasons in a little while, though I am glad to hear I have not been mislead about you."

Alia furrowed her brow, fighting to avoid fidgeting in her seat. "Your Majesty?"

The Queen set her hand upon a folder again, smiling. "First, Alia. The reason you were given this job. I am rather ashamed to admit that it was a prank. A joke." She scowled while that settled in on Alia. Before Alia's heart had too much time to sink, the Queen went on. "A joke I am further ashamed to admit was perpetrated by my own son. The prince, you see, has friends in all the wrong places. Try as I might to steer him in the right direction, his friends among the more youthful nobility steer him right back in the opposite direction. Queen or not, a mother can be hard pressed to keep her son away from every bad influence. Particularly when her son is of royal blood."

The Queen lifted her fingers and pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing. "My son is quite close friends with several of the young nobles from the House in charge of the Twenty-Fourth Province. Aran'alia. When this job became available, there were not exactly people chomping at the bit to apply for it, you see, and it is not a position that can be left vacant for long. So as a joke, my son's idiot friends suggested that he appoint an Aran'alian to the position. The House in charge of your former land is not comprised of the best of people, and I would replace them on the spot if they did not have their fingers so deeply invested in so many treasuries and military alliances. They repeatedly stand in the way of Aran'alians taking leadership positions within their former country because they believe them unfit to lead.

"Quite frankly, they thought it would be funny to appoint the lowliest Aran'Alian they could find as The Prisoner's new Warden. They thought they would have quite the laugh watching this person flounder around until they proved totally unfit for any sort of leadership, just as they expected...or until they were eaten by the dragon. Whichever came first."

By now, Alia's face had flushed nearly purple. She didn't know whether to feel angry, upset, embarrassed, or humiliated. In the end, she felt all of the above. She clenched her hands into fists against her knees till her knuckles were wide. She grit her teeth so hard she nearly expected them to crack, and her eyes felt wet, her throat hot. This whole thing was just some idiot noble's prank? She'd considered that before, but it was only a joke she told herself.

"Take a deep breath my dear," the Queen said, patting the leather bound folder. "There is more to this story, yet."

Alia did her best to calm down. She knew growing angrier would not help her case. What was done was done. Yet the callousness of these people to treat her as some kind of object of amusement just because she was an Aran'alian was sickening. And why should they block her people's attempts to rule themselves? Still, the Queen seemed to have more to say, and Alia found herself curious despite her pained humiliation. Somehow the Queen did not seem to share the same bigotry as the nobles she spoke of. And from the sounds of it, she was trying to steer her son away from such things even as his noble friends steered him in the other direction.

"I do not know who originally suggested it to him to be honest," The Queen said with a sigh. "He has met with a great deal of groups from former Aran'Alia over the years. I have tried to keep him engaged as a diplomat, as I feel it is great experience for a man who may be King someday. Unfortunately it was likely been during his meetings in the Twenty Fourth Province that he first struck up this friendship with a batch of spoiled nobles. He must have come home with the idea that we should have an Aran'alian guard the dragon, because wouldn't that be a laugh." The Queen's voice was filled with bitter sarcasm for a moment. "So when the chance came, he and his friends put it into motion."

"He got the idea when he was in Aran'alia?" Alia blinked. That wasn't quite the way she'd first perceived it. She thought it was just nobles here in the castle suggesting such a thing on the spur of the moment. But it almost sounded like...

"It matters little where he got such a cruel idea," The Queen said, stopping Alia's line of thought before she could really pursue it further. "What matters is that I have final say on any important hiring inside the castle. Head Dragon Warden is considered an important position, as you might imagine." She smirked a little. "Granted I have final say on everything in the country. Yet I leave many lesser decisions up to others, so as often happens, they tried to slip this by me under the assumption that it wasn't worth my time. Thankfully I have eyes and ears everywhere. Loyal eyes and ears."

Alia wasn't sure what to say. So, she simply waited a moment to see if the Queen was going to continue or if she was waiting for information from Alia herself. The Queen began to untie the gold ribbon that bound the leather folder shut. Alia saw a blue and black seal made of wax that had long since been broken. The Queen hadn't bothered to seal it back up again, merely tied the folder shut.

"When word of this little prank reached me," the Queen said, glancing up at Alia with a grin. "At first I was outraged. I half thought to forcibly appoint one of them to Dragon Warden just to teach them a little respect not only for the position, but for the person serving it. And then I had a much better idea. I decided to let them go through with this little prank of theirs, on the grounds that I got to select the Aran'alian."

"What?" Alia burst out before she could stop herself. For a moment and only a moment she almost forgot she was talking to a Queen. "Why the hell did you do that?" Then, before she could ask if the Queen meant to laugh at her people too, she remembered where she was and quickly bowed her head. "Gracious apologies, your Majesty."

The Queen ignored both the outburst and the apology that followed, and instead simply answered Alia's question. "Because I wished to prove them wrong."

Alia sucked in a breath, her eyes widening.

The Queen began to pull stacks of reports scribbled on parchment from the folder. "I wished to prove them and all their ignorance wrong, in the vain hope it might somehow teach them something about themselves. Let alone about your people. So, I asked the Servant Master and the Guards and all my secret eyes and ears for the most capable, hardest working Aran'alian they could find." Smiling, the Queen passed report after report across the desk towards Alia. "And you have worked out spectacularly, my dear."

Alia's face somehow flushed even darker as she was suddenly awash with the most pleasant kind of embarrassment. She began to page through the reports. They looked to be written by Enric. He'd been keeping tabs on her since the day he and his guards first ventured into the Dungeon alongside her, and never once had he brought it up. Here and there words and phrases jumped out at her.

Bravery. Creative Engagement of The Prisoner. Kindness. Fair Treatment. Concern for The Prisoner's Well-Being above and beyond call of duty. Remarkable ability to soothe, guide, and control the dragon when necessary.

"Ah, that one," the Queen said, chuckling to herself as she watched Alia flip through the reports. "I think you'd enjoy that part."

Alia Silverrain demonstrates not only remarkable resolve to do her job to the best of her abilities, but more so a truly remarkable ability to do the job itself. Since her first day as Dragon Warden, there have been zero reported instances of aggression towards the Warden, zero instances of reported violence or aggression towards Guards, and Zero instances whatsoever of the dragon causing any amount of trouble for anyone even when the dragon himself was assaulted. May I point out, that this is an absolute first for any Warden, let alone a new Warden.

Recommendation is for permanent instatement.

"Permanent instatement," Alia breathed aloud. "It was...some kind of test, wasn't it."

"I told you, my dear," the Queen said, leaning back. "Everything is an assessment."

Alia glanced down at the report again, and gave a little gasp. "This was written weeks ago!"

"The night you battered Lord Armadine, actually," the Queen said, giving a hearty laugh.

All the color drained from Alia's face, and she nearly dropped the report.

"Yes, dear," The Queen said softly. "I know about that. I know a great many things." She waved her hand a little bit. "I've had you looked into, you see. I know you grew up on the streets of Illandra, I know you worked a variety of unpleasant jobs including bedding men for coin. I know you earned your servant's job here because your work ethic so impressed the Servant Master on your trial basis. I know you helped get your friends jobs as servants, and that you've more recently hired them as your assistants. I know you've also hired an Urd'thin, a very interesting idea, and I know you've kneed one noble in the groin and beaten the hell out of another."

The Queen let all that settle on Alia, watching as the weight of the words nearly bore Alia down into her chair. "And I know you did so because this noble tore your dragon open with his whip. You quite impressed Enric, actually, given the risk you took to protect your only prisoner simply because you felt it was right. He wrote that report in your hand that very night, though I did not know the details for a few days."

With trembling hands, Alia lay the report upon the desk. "I suppose I should not be surprised how much you know," she said, her voice soft.

"My dear, I would be a very poor monarch if I did not know everything that happened within my own walls." The Queen folded her hands in her lap a moment. "I feel I should warn you that I suspect Lord Armadine will bring a case against you in front of me. If this happens, I shall likely be obligated to issue some manner of punishment."

Alia bowed her head a little. Worry spun her mind in fearful circles. She knew that was going to come back and bite her on the ass, just like Valyrym said. Even though he didn't really know what she'd done aside from taking risks on his behalf "I understand."

"When this happens," the Queen said. She picked up the black marble gryphon and began turning it over in her hands. "You shall be obligated to tell me, and everyone present, exactly what happened."

Alia slowly nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"Including the extremely grievous nature of the wounds inflicted upon the dragon. At which point I shall bring up how appalling I find that, given that I have numerous reports stating that he has shown no sign of aggression towards anyone since the moment you took office." The Queen let that sink in. "You understand what I'm telling you?"

Alia sucked in a breath, lifting her emerald gaze. "I think so, Your Majesty."

"Good." The Queen passed the marble gryphon back and forth between her hands. "I will be obligated by my own laws to issue you some manner of punishment. However the more justified your actions seem, the more lenient I shall be. And I shall tell you straight away that you have no fear of losing your job. It is yours to keep." The queen allowed herself a little smirk. "Furthermore, Lord Armadine is one of my son's friends. If he thinks he can torture a prisoner under my care for no reason whatsoever, I should like it very much if that became public knowledge. A little public scorn among his peers is likely to go a lot further towards teaching him some respect than merely beating him. I should also like it to be known how thoroughly beaten he was by a woman."

Alia couldn't help laughing at that, some of her fear of the potential hearing abating a little bit. More and more Alia began to realize her first impression of this woman was correct. Paulson was right. The Queen was a surprisingly reasonable person. She wondered for a moment just how well Paulson knew this Queen. Paulson was a little older than the Queen but perhaps not too much. Could they have been a secret couple once? Or perhaps they'd just been friends. Alia realized it was probably neither of those things. Her imagination was simply running rampant again.

"Why do you care?" Alia finally asked. "Why do you care what these nobles think of me? Of my people? Why did you want me to prove them wrong?"

The Queen took a deep breath, and let out a sigh so heavy it was as if she was trying exhale all the burdens of running a kingdom at once. "Because rare is the person who can truly judge themselves, but history judges us all. And history is a harsh judge. Do you know who said that?"

Alia shook her head. "No, I do not."

"The King of Illandra, many years ago. It was part of set of letters he wrote, before his death." The Queen paused. "Before he leapt from our tallest tower."

Alia stiffened and gasped. That King?

"The same king who put plans into motion to conquer Aran'alia." The Queen watched Alia coolly. "They say first he was driven by the need to secure wealth, land and power enough to ensure Illandra's survival through the ages. And when the cost proved too high for his kingdom to easily bear, it was revenge that drove him to continue his invasion anyway. In the end it was likely guilt that drove him to throw himself from that tower."

Alia looked down at her hands as she wrung them together. She was starting to feel as though this Queen knew all too much what Alia had planned to tell her. She supposed she not be surprised. If there was anyone who would know what really happened all those years ago, it was likely to be the royals.

"You know why he's here, don't you." The Queen's voice was soft. "The dragon, I mean."

"I do," Alia said, just as softly. "You do as well, then."

"Indeed," the Queen said. "For the murder of the Queen and the Prince over one hundred years ago."

"But you don't know why he did it," Alia murmured to herself. Yet was there really an excuse? She felt as though she were standing at the edge of the ocean, with her plans and words written in the sand, and the waves were slowly lapping at them and washing them all away before she could even speak them aloud. "Yet I did not come here to make excuses for him."

"No, I did not think you the type to make excuses, Alia," Queen Kathlyn said, sighing again as she leaned back against her chair. "To answer your question Alia, I wanted you to prove them wrong because I want you to prove Illandra wrong. As Queen of this country I have access to knowledge and truths the likes of which the average Illandran will never see. My parents, the former King and Queen, presided over the beginning of the influx of Aran'alian refugees. Illandra resisted much of the refugee tide for quite some time. Some of them were allowed entry but many more were barred or forced to dwell beyond our walls for years. They trickled in over the years, and the trickle grew larger each generation. But my parents opened the flood gates as it were, deigned to do what they felt was right, and let them all in. The average Illandran did not agree with the decision, and they still do not.

The Queen paused, and gazed off at the fur and quilt lined walls, lost in thought for a moment. Alia was a little surprised by just how haunted her gaze became. ""I didn't understand it myself when I was young. It seemed a foolish thing to do. They were more of them in our city than could find employment, and I was too young to understand it was about more than that." She took a breath, and sighed to herself, leaned back into her chair and closed her eyes. "I did not yet realize it was about trying to right a wrong."

"Your parents realized your people had taken away their homes," Alia said, idly toying with the black buttons on one of her sleeves. "And they hoped to make up for it by opening their own doors."

A bittersweet smile came to the Queen's lips. "Something like that. You know, Alia, as I grew I became a student of history. I had nothing to do with the conquering of Aran'alian, and neither did my parents. Yet the words of the Conquering King resonant with me because as I studied the history of the world I grew to know he was right. Every Empire that is born will inevitably crumble away again no matter how vast they may grow to be. And in time, history will judge each and every Empire, and that judgment will be harsh."

The Queen sat up again, turning her gaze back to Alia. Now her eyes shone with indigo fire. "When I look back at the last hundred and fifty years or so, I see a nation I wish so deeply I could be proud of. Yet, so often I am not proud of Illandra. Alia, I have come to realize that I am Queen of a nation on the wrong side of history."

Pursing her lips, the Queen drummed her fingers on her desk. Then she waved her hand towards the furs hanging along the walls. "My son hunted those himself. I am proud of his achievements and I love him dearly, yet I am fearful that should become king, he will continue to follow the wrong path. That he sees the world as something for Illandra to hunt and conquer. And I fear continuing that path would lead us only into ruin. That is why I feel I must try and do something to set us on the right path long before that can ever happen. This nation is at a precipice. If Illandra is ever to be on the right side of history, it has to happen soon. It has to start with me."

"What are you going to do?" Alia asked, her breath nearly caught in her throat.

The Queen gave a little laugh. "That, I am afraid, is knowledge I am not willing to share with you, Alia. You will forgive me for keeping state secrets to myself."

Alia smiled, bowing her head a bit. "Of course," she said simply, though her mind was bubbling like a spring. This was better than she could have hoped for. And what had she said earlier? Something about...nobles blocking attempts for Aran'alia to rule itself, again? And the Queen wanted to prove them wrong...

Alia opened her mouth, about to blurt something out, but the Queen held up her hand for silence instead. "Alia, I will admit I like you. And you have turned out marvelously in your new job. You could not have proven them more wrong. But I am not ready or willing to discuss my plans and my ambitions with someone I have only just met."

Alia closed her mouth again, nodding once. "Of course, my apologies your Majesty."

The Queen waved her hand. "Think nothing of it. Now. I think it is time for us to take a walk together. I should like to get some air, and you still have to tell me your reasons you believe the dragon should go free. I can only promise I will consider them." The Queen rose to her feet, and Alia saw that the rest of her dress matched the sleeves. It cascaded down her legs in layers of lace and waves of blue silk, each a little darker blue than the one above it. She patted the black stone gryphon as she rose. "And when you have given me your reasons, I have a friend who would love to meet you."

---

Alia followed Queen Kathlyn out of her chamber and into the many winding hallways that twisted and turned through the Central Keep. As soon as they left her office and passed through the waiting room they were flanked on all sides by a dozen of the most heavily armed men Alia had ever seen. She'd seen a few of the Queen's Guard earlier, but the moment the Queen set foot outside her office more of them seemed to materialize out of thin air. Each gave Alia a look that made her shiver. She knew in an instant they did not care if she was Aran'alian or Illandran but if she made a wrong move they would put her down without hesitation. Alia wondered for a moment if the Queen always kept the company of such guards inside her own castle, or if there was more to the reports of Aran'alian infiltrators than even the Servant Master's documents seemed to indicate.

"Is it acceptable for me to speak of such matters in front of your guards?" Alia asked, a little apprehensive about explaining why she felt the dragon should be freed while there were so many other ears about.

"Oh, don't worry about them," the Queen said, waving dismissively at the group of men she'd long since come to ignore. "I've had all their tongues cut out to ensure they can't speak of anything they overhear in my presence."

Alia gave a little gasp, and then realized the Queen was surely joking. Before she had time to give a polite laugh, one of the guards spoke up. "We could still write, you know. If your Majesty really wishes to ensure our silence, you ought to have our fingers cut off, too."

"But then you couldn't hold a weapon. How would you guard my life the next time an assassin infiltrates my inner sanctum?" The Queen shook her head, smiling.

"We could still kick pretty hard," the guard replied.

"I could head butt," another guard offered with a dead pan voice.

Alia finally started laughing. It seemed as though the Queen was actually friends with her guards. Or at least they seemed to hold a good camaraderie. That was good though, Alia thought. Surely they took their duty seriously, but if they actually cared about the Queen on a personal level, Alia could not help but think they would work even harder to keep her safe.

The Queen turned down an intersection. Up ahead, there were a few servants about, and a group of noblemen Alia wasn't familiar with. Each was dressed in a green and gold jacket over the top of a golden vest, and each also wore a pair of rather tight, formal black and silver breeches. Alia wasn't sure but she thought they bore the colors of one of the southern Houses. They all gave a graceful bow to the Queen as she passed. It was almost a shame they had to bow because Alia would have loved to see the look on their faces when they realized that yes, that was an Aran'alian girl walking alongside Her Majesty.

"Well, Alia Silverrain?" The Queen glanced at her as they walked, the rattle and clank of armor accompanying them. "Are you going to tell me why you believe I should free the dragon before we've ascended to one of my private gardens, or are you going to need to schedule another appointment?"

Alia bowed her head a moment, clearing her throat. "Yes, of course Your Majesty." Alia thought for a moment, trying to re-arrange her arguments now that they'd all been shattered and lay scattered around her in broken fragments. "I should ask a question first, if you permit me." When the Queen did not stop her, Alia asked "Does your Majesty believe in the notion of mercy? And I mean truly believe in it. That is, that mercy is a principal that all civilized peoples should strive to embrace."

"I do," the Queen said quickly, and then gave Alia a meaningful glance as they walked past a hallway-spanning painting. In the painting towering, jagged gray mountains and a black feathered creature flying above them were silhouetted against a bright blue sky. "But I also believe in the notion of justice, so do be careful with the way you proceed if you intend to frame your argument within the constraints of a merciful release."

"And where would your Majesty draw the line between mercy, and justice?" Alia tilted her head, watching the Queen closely.

The Queen spend a moment considering it, her ruffled blue dress swishing about her feet as he walked. Thoughts and considerations slowly turned behind her eyes, the dark blue tones grew even darker for a moment. "An interesting question, Alia Silverrain. I grow more and more curious where you plan to take this argument."

"Would I be correct in assuming the King who first imprisoned The Dragon signed a writ declaring he remain here for all of his days? That he be treated fairly for the extent of that time?"

"You would." The Queen clucked her tongue. "Though it is hardly an assumption when you have inside knowledge from the Dragon himself."

"I am curious, Your Majesty," Alia pressed on. "In the official records likely seen only by royalty, is the dragon listed as a murderer? Or is he listed as an enemy combatant? An enemy soldier, an assassin? Does he even have an official status?"

The Queen gave Alia an odd look. "I believe the records state that the creature is in fact, a murderer of a woman and child. After all, his crime hardly occurred on some battlefield as would befit the status of a captured soldier. Let us not try and tip toe around the dragon's actions, Alia Silverrain. This creature burned a woman and her child to death. Does that not make him a murderer?"

Alia did not rise to the bait. Instead she posed another question of her own just as swiftly. "What then of the man who burned the leader of Aran'alia to death in her own home, in the middle of the night? What of the man who gave the order to have her burned to death? Not in the middle of some great battle, but in the midst of the night, in her own bed..." Alia's voice cracked a little. She did not know Amaleen, but through Valyrym's tale Alia had grown to feel as though she knew the woman just as well. "...With no one there to help, in her last moments..."

Alia cleared her throat before she could grow too overwhelmed with emotions. "If the dragon's act against enemy leadership was murder, then Illandra's act against Aran'alian leadership was murder just the same. If Your Majesty truly believes in justice, then she must realize it is unfair to hold a double standard. One man may well have had a medal pinned to his chest for having a woman burned to death in her bed, while another creature is condemned to a life of lonely sorrow for the same."

The Queen turned a corner and ascended a small flight of stone stairs without reply. Alia watched her a moment, and saw that the blue glow in the woman's indigo eyes had intensified. At least she seemed to be mulling over Alia's words. She paused at the top of the stairs, and pinched the bridge of her nose, holding it a moment.

"Your Majesty," Alia said softly. "The dragon's crimes are terrible indeed. But they follow a standard set not by the dragon, but by Illandra. Illandra kidnapped the families of innocent Aran'alians and forced them to set flame to the homes of their friends, and their leaders. They could not reach the Aran'alian leadership in honorable battle, and so they came like cowards in the night. They burned their leader's home to the ground while she slumbered in her bed. They ensured she did not escape."

The Queen took a few steps, and then flicked her hand towards the guards. They knew the signal well. They all moved back, blocking off the hallway at both ends to ensure no one could enter or approach the Queen. It was a way of giving her and Alia a little more privacy without compromising her safety or their numbers. She folded her arms beneath her breasts, regardless of the fact it might not be the most womanly of gestured, and gave Alia a long, hard look.

"So this is your first argument?" The Queen asked, once more boring into Alia with that oppressive, regal stare. "That the dragon's actions were merely following a standard of unethical warfare previously set by Illandra?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes." Alia pressed her hands together, rubbing them as if trying to warm her fingers. "The dragon had no intention of taking the prince's life. His target was the Queen, he did not even know the king had a son."

"So he was sent by the new ruler of Aran'alia? To attempt a suicide mission in order to retaliate for the slaying of their Queen?"

"Her name was Amaleen," Alia said, not taking her eyes from those of the monarch. "And she was not a Queen. She was a healer, actually, who wanted no part of war. A woman who had dedicated herself to saving lives, who cried every night because Illandra had forced her into a position where she had to order life to be taken, rather than saved. Because Illandra forced her to order her friends into battle knowing full well many of them would die every time. She was the ruler of Aran'alian, yes, but she was no Queen. She was elected to the position because they felt she was the most qualified. Yet I rather doubt she ever took a life in all her years. I doubt her even capable of such an act. According to the dragon, she was the kindest soul he had ever known."

Alia grit her teeth, sniffing a little bit. She blinked away tears and glanced away. "And they burned her to death in her bed, simply for wanting her people to live free lives. You speak of belief in justice, your Majesty. But if you see justice in a death like that, than you and I are two very different people."

"I see no justice there," the Queen said softly, shaking her head. "Yet I see no justice in revenge, either"

"Nor do I," Alia said, sniffing again. "I agree, the Dragon deserved punishment. And yes, my first argument is now stated. That this was not some monster, simply striking out to murder a woman and child for some perverse pleasure. That this was an act of war, following the standard set forth by Illandra itself. The moment they burned Aran'alia's leaders to death, they opened themselves up to the same act. You cannot rightfully punish one and reward another for the same act if you truly believe in justice."

"You seem awfully sure of these facts, Alia Silverrain."

"I am." Alia bowed her head a little. "With all due respect your Majesty, I believe that this is perhaps the one and only area in which I am more knowledgeable than you. No matter what you may have read in the history books, history is inevitably altered in some way by the victor. And there is no man or woman alive who can remember what happened. But there is a creature who lived through those days, and though his body and soul are battered and broken, his memories are very much intact."

The Queen began to walk again, though her steps were slow and more measured now. So far, Alia was glad to see that it appeared the Queen was taking her words into consideration. She rather doubted the Queen knew of Amaleen's death. It was possible even the old King himself did not know exactly why Valyrym chose that horrible manner of death for his revenge. Alia followed along at the Queen's side, just a respectful step behind her. The guards began to walk with them as well, maintaining their distance.

"And your second argument?"

"My second argument is the simple belief that the dragon has suffered enough," Alia said, her voice soft. She looked down at her boots a moment, nudged her toe against the soft blue carpeting that covered the upper hallways here. Then she turned her eyes back to the Queen, watching her as they walked together. "That mercy and justice can be one and the same. That justice has been done, and the dragon has suffered greatly for his crimes for longer than either of us can ever hope to draw breath. There is precedent, of course. A man imprisoned in his youth may one day be freed from the dungeon in his old age, simple because it is the merciful thing to do."

"He loved her, didn't he," the Queen said, rather unexpectedly.

"Your Majesty?" Alia replied, a little taken aback.

"Do not play coy, Alia." The Queen gave her a brief glance. "Simply speaking of what you've learned from the dragon has nearly brought you to tears. This woman who burned to death, this Amaleen. He loved her, didn't he?"

"...Yes, your Majesty." Alia bit her lip a moment, and then chuckled. "In truth I was not sure you would believe me if I told you as much."

"I have heard rumors of dragons and women before," The Queen said. Her tone was just cryptic enough to leave Alia wondering just what rumors she'd heard. "The dragon can speak, after all, it is not out of the realm of possibility to believe that such a creature can also love. Though to love a human..." She trailed off, and Alia was unsure if she left that intentionally vague, or if she just thought such a thing was nearly impossible.

"He loved her very much," Alia said softly. "He still does." And he always would. Alia knew Valyrym would never let Amaleen out of his heart, but that was alright with Alia. She'd long since come to accept that about the old dragon she had also come to love. After all, she could hardly blame him. "Her death...it very nearly broke him."

"They burned her to death in front of him, then?"

"No," Alia said, sighing. "I think it was all the harder on him that they did not. He was visiting his family at the time. His sister, and her mate, another dragon who had been injured in the war."

"He had a son too, did he not?"

Alia's breath caught, and she straightened up. How did the Queen know that? Had it been in the old King's letters she mentioned? What if the old bastard had found Valaranyx and had him slain in revenge? Alia could hardly bear to consider such a possibility. And if it was true, she would never be able to tell Valyrym. But she did not know if it was true or not. If not, Alia was unsure if she wished to let the Queen know that Valar was still alive when his father was captured.

"He did, yes," Alia said, happy to let the Queen take whatever she wished from that. "He had taken his son to visit his new cousin."

The Queen chuckled a little bit. "I have no reason to doubt you, Alia, but I cannot say as I have ever imagined dragons to have families the way humans do."

"Neither had I, until I met Valyrym," Alia said, letting the dragon's name slip before she realized it.

"Valyrym?" The Queen asked, and finally gave a laugh. "Wardens have spent decades trying to learn the beast's name, and you waltz right in there and get it right out of him."

Alia blushed a little bit. "He does not like to give up his name. Only to those he respects, or those he considers a friend."

"And you seem to have earned his respect, and his friendship."

"I have," Alia said softly. Alia took a breath, and ran her hands back over her face. "Your Majesty, I could spend all day telling you about Valyrym, and I could spend all night going on about how deeply he loved Amaleen and his son. But you have not the time for that and in truth, I am not sure I have the heart to retell so wrenching and sorrowful a tale. Suffice it to say that he has lived a very hard, very painful life even before he was dragged here behind a team of horses."

The Queen bit her lip, gazing down the hall. For a moment, old pain flickered in her eyes. Alia knew that look, now. Perhaps Valyrym's tale would hold heavier meaning for the Queen than Alia had realized. "For what it is worth Alia, the more I know about this dragon and his life, the more weight your arguments will have."

Alia took a step towards the Queen. She had not planned to tell the Queen the personal details of Valyrym's past. After all she knew Valyrym would not want her to share certain things with anyone let alone Illandra royalty. Yet something in the Queen's eyes now told Alia the Queen would understand Valyrym's pain better than most. If putting Valyrym's love for Amaleen to words would help lead to the dragon's eventual freedom, then Alia would gladly bear his anger in the meantime.

Now Alia let her own gaze bore into the Queen's eyes. As she spoke, her voice slowly rose. "Then know this. Though many might choose to look down upon their union simply because they were not the same species, Amaleen was far more than just the dragon's lover. She was everything to him. She was the woman who saved the life of his innocent young son. When Illandran scouts put arrows into the dragon child who only wanted to greet them, Amaleen was the one who saved the hatchling's life. Amaleen was the woman who invited the dragon into her city. Amaleen was the one who found a way to make dragons feel at home and welcome in the land of men. She was the woman who proved to Valyrym the value of human life. The value of all life. And if you asked the dragon, he would tell you that Amaleen was the woman who made him a better creature."

Alia paused a moment, and took a deep breath. She let it out as slowly as she could stand. "But if you ask me, he was always a good creature. There was always poetry in his heart. Amaleen was just the one who finally found a way to draw it out of him. He loved his son, he loved his home, and when no one else would he took to his wings and he fought for his friends. That was his crime. Fighting for the freedom of those he cared for. To fight for Amaleen. Amaleen and his son were everything to him. They tried and failed to take his son from him, but they did not fail when they came for Amaleen. He came home, to the city in which he lived, a city that called him friend...to find that Amaleen's home had been burned to ashes. The next day he carried what was left of her on his back, dug her grave with his own paws, and buried his love in a mound of cold dirt."

The Queen remained silent for as long as Alia wished to speak, and Alia was thankful. She took a moment to compose herself, and pressed a hand to her eyes. She had never expected to tell any of this to the Queen. Yet all her carefully composed arguments were gone the moment the Queen asked for them.

"Valyrym was no saint, not like Amaleen was. But he was no monster." Alia slowly shook her head, sighing. "Not until Illandra took Amaleen from him. Her death, her horrible, agonizing death in which he was not there to save her...it broke him, deep inside. It cut him to his heart, and grief bled him dry. Each day the cracks in his mind grew larger and larger until he was perched upon the very precipice of madness. Until revenge and his own death were the only answers he could find. And so...so he left his son behind, and he avenged Amaleen the only way he knew how. The only way he saw fitting."

"By killing the woman he saw as responsible the same way his own lover had died," the Queen said, her own voice a little hoarse as she summed things up.

"Essentially, yes," Alia said. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand, regardless of the Queen's presence. "I assure you, he had no intentions of killing the prince. In fact, that was what stopped him. That was how they brought him down. When he heard the prince scream, he was so appalled by his own actions that he simply went into shock, and gave the King's Guard a chance to fall upon him. Otherwise, I suspect he may have killed the king as well."

"That is..." The Queen began, then trailed off a little. She took a deep breath of her own, and held it while she fought to compose herself. "...A tragic tale, if it is true as he has told it to you. But suffering such tragedy is not in and of itself excuse to set him free, as it does not excuse his acts."

"No," Alia said in agreement. "It does not. But it does lead me to the crux of my argument. That the dragon has suffered enough. Your Majesty..." Alia gestured in the air, waving her hand in a circular motion. "If a man is convicted of murder, and for whatever reason is not sentenced to death, he is instead sentenced to life in prison, is he not?"

The Queen slowly nodded, curious to see where Alia was going with this.

"The idea being, that he should spend a span of time imprisoned equivalent to the years of life he took away. Years the dead never got to live, and years the living spend missing those they lost. That is how long the convicted should be imprisoned, correct?"

"It is the general idea of life imprisonment, yes."

"Then, Your Majesty, may I humbly submit that Valyrym has already exceeded that range of years in his time imprisoned."

"How can you be certain?"

"Because the dragon has kept track of his years. He has made a mark on the wall for every first snowfall. A snowfall because it was during such an event that he celebrated his son's birth, and survival from his nearly fatal wounds."

"And...how long has he been here?"

Alia half expected the Queen to know. Perhaps she did. Rather than answer immediately, Alia posed another question. "How long do you think the Prince would have lived, if he were not slain so cruelly early? Seventy years, perhaps? And the Queen, how much longer would she have lived? Another twenty years? Perhaps thirty, forty if she was lucky? That would be what...a hundred, a hundred ten total years of life taken away?"

Alia furrowed her brow, waiting on the Queen to answer. When the Queen instead seemed to be waiting for Alia to get to the point, Alia closed her eyes. She thought of Valyrym. Of the gray in his muzzle and his wings that had once been blue. Of the strength in his body she now knew was likely drained as much by age as it was by malnourishment. Of the son he longed to see once more who if he still lived was long since grown.

"Valyrym has suffered here far longer than that." Alia moistened her mouth, and then forced herself to spit it out. "One hundred forty one years. For one hundred forty one years, the dragon has lived buried beneath this castle."

The Queen tensed. Alia realized that was one thing she hadn't known. Before she could reply, Alia pressed what she felt was an advantage. "For one hundred forty one years the dragon has been tortured, abused, and malnourished. The king's directive to treat him fairly has long since been ignored. He bears scars upon scars all across his body. Every day of his life, a life that has been spent imprisoned and tortured far longer than you or I could ever hope to live, he thinks of his murdered love and the son he left behind for revenge. Every day he does what he can to cling to little more than threads of sanity.

"I have looked into the dragon's golden eyes, and I have seen his very soul. It is a thing of pain and patches, and the patches have all worn bare. There is little left that keeps him stitched together, aside from the hope that somewhere out there, his son is still alive. That somewhere out there, his son has not grown to hate the father who abandoned him. The hope that someday, when he dies, all this pain will finally end for him." The Queen finally broke Alia's gaze, looking down at the floor for a moment. Alia softened her tone. "Your Majesty, Valyrym has suffered enough. One hundred and forty one years of anguish is enough justice for any crime. It is time for Illandra to show itself to be merciful. It is time to let the dragon go."

The Queen clasped her hands together tightly enough for her knuckles to pop out white against her fair skin. She moved to lean up against a wall, and one of the guards moved a little closer as if to support her till she waved him off. Alia politely looked away as the Queen closed her eyes, trying to collect thoughts. When Alia thought she'd had enough time to gather herself, she pressed on a little more.

"Your Majesty, we both know Lord Armadine tortured Valyrym with his whip, and if you had seen his wounds you would know there was no other word for it than torture. When I first found the dragon after that, he was huddled in a corner, trembling in pain and trying to staunch the blood flow from his nose. His muzzle was rent from nostril to nostril, and he could scarcely quell the bleeding without my assistance. And yet, when I asked him what happened he did not wish to tell me. He simply told me to leave it be." Alia's voice began to strengthen once more, and the color rose in her cheeks. "It was very clear that it was not the first time such a thing has happened to him. In the century and a half that Valyrym has been here, he has grown so used to torture that he has simply resigned himself to it. No creature should have to put up with that. Death would have been more merciful than the fate which he has resigned himself to."

The Queen finally held up her hand for Alia's silence. Alia took a step back, bowing her head a bit. She did not wish to make the Queen angry, only to prove her point. The Queen wiped her eyes a moment, and pursed her lips. She gave a heavy sigh, and began to walk once more. Again, the guards shadowed them at a distance wide enough to give them a bit of privacy. Anyone in the halls quickly got out of their way before they even drew near.

"I cannot promise you that I will set this dragon free, Alia Silverrain," The Queen said softly. "But I promise you I will give the matter very serious consideration."

"That is all I ask, Your Majesty." Alia bowed her head again.

The Queen snorted a bit. "Oh, quit your bowing, you silly girl." She chuckled just a little bit. "You've nearly put a tear in my eye, you may as well cease acting overly formal. At least for the moment."

Alia smiled. "As you wish. I would also like you to consider that there is no one in all the world who is as hard on the dragon as he is on himself. He is wracked with more guilt than I could possibly bear in his stead. There is pain, sorrow, guilt and loneliness in his eyes the likes of which I can scarcely comprehend. Yet he is too proud to ever admit to such anguish openly. At least...he was." Alia walked along side the Queen in silence a moment, idly tugging at the dark green sleeves of her shirt.

"He was?" The Queen asked, whether Alia had intended on proceeding or not.

"When I first met him, his eyes were like a golden wall, impenetrable and unreadable. And his demeanor was like another layer of armor atop his scales. He shrouds himself in veils of smugness and sarcasm, of fury and threats. But under it all, when you've laid him bare, he is...he has such love to give, if he but had someone to share it with. And he was so utterly lonely without her. Without his son."

Alia glanced up at the Queen a moment. "I saw it, now and then, shining in his eyes like beacons of sorrow whenever I unknowingly asked him if he'd ever had a human friend before. When I...bought him a stuffed dragon, and named it after him without knowing he had a son who truly did share his name. I think being around another woman from Aran'alia was...eating at him. He began to break down a little, now and then. I was afraid if he didn't let out whatever secrets he held they were finally going to end him. So I convinced him to tell me about himself, and how he came to be imprisoned here. The story was..."

Alia pressed her hand over her heart, and shook her head. "I feel as though I have lived his life, and suffered his many pains. In a way, I think it has helped him to be able to tell someone. He is far more open, and even happy around me now. But at the same time...I can see him struggling to put his walls back together and he no longer has the strength. He can scarcely hide his pain now, and I think that frightens him."

"I should like to meet this dragon." The Queen's request was simple, and her voice was soft. But it rang in Alia's head like a hammer blow against her skull. It nearly physically staggered her, and she took a step back.

"Your...Your Majesty?"

"The dragon," the Queen said softly. "Valyrym. If I am to seriously consider your request, I should like to meet this dragon first. It is not that I do not believe what you say, Alia. But I must see such a thing for myself. Not today, of course."

Alia grit her teeth, her flexing. She had hoped it would not come to this. After all she had no way of knowing whatsoever how Valyrym would act during such a meeting, especially now that the Queen might bring up Amaleen. In Valyrym's mind, Amaleen's death would always be a fresh wound brought on by the Illandran royals. He had not seen a royal since the day he spoke his piece to the old king. Though Alia told herself Valyrym would never do anything foolish, she knew there was a chance the dragon might not be able restrain himself if the Queen said the wrong thing about her.

Alia knew she had no choice in the matter. If she tried to dissuade the Queen then surely she would think Alia was lying about the dragon. So, Alia simply nodded, feeling a little numb. She would just have to work with Valyrym to get him ready to handle the meeting beforehand. "Very well, Your Majesty. If I may be permitted time to prepare the dragon for your arrival?"

"Of course," the Queen said with a little smile. She reached out and gently squeezed Alia's shoulder. "You'll have plenty of time. Do not worry, my dear. I assure you that I have no intentions of doing or saying anything that will get me eaten."

Alia managed a little smile. She just hoped that would be enough for Valyrym. Granted, as long as the Queen did not do anything to anger him, she imagined Valyrym would behave himself. Mostly. "I would warn Your Majesty that dragons do not hold themselves to the same standards as humans. As such, he can be a little...abrasive."

The Queen shook her head, grinning just a bit. "My dear, believe it or not, I have dealt with non-human creatures before. I do not expect them to hold themselves to the same standards as a human. As long as he does not go out of his way to insult me at every turn, I am sure I can handle his abrasiveness just fine."

"And if he does?" Alia asked with a nervous giggle.

"Then I shall order you to kick him in the testicles," the Queen said with a smirk.

Alia couldn't help giggling again, this time a little less nervously. "I see Enric has told you a bit about my dragon-training techniques."

"Indeed."

For a little while they walked in silence, with only the clank of the guards' armor to disturb the peaceful quiet. Alia realized she hadn't seen any other people for a little while. They must really be deep inside the Central Keep. Perhaps an area designated solely for the Queen. When they came to a set of doors that opened into a large, circular stairwell that soared up into darkness, Alia realized they had ventured to one of the five towers. Alia had never actually been into any of the towers before.

"You're not afraid of a few stairs, are you?" The Queen asked, grinning at Alia. The guards soon fetched lanterns from hidden alcoves and lit them, then began to venture up the stairs to illuminate them with orange light for the Queen. Her Majesty hiked up her layered blue skirt just a little and began to ascend the steps.

"Not anymore," Alia said, giggling as she followed after the Queen. The steps were old, almost as old as those Alia descended everyday. The stone was long since worn smooth and slightly concave in the center of each step thanks to generations of footfalls upon them. "Where are we going?"

"To one of my personal gardens." The Queen glanced back at Alia. "I should like to visit your dragon within the next few weeks, if possible. Within a month I going to be going on a long journey for diplomatic reasons. I shall not return for at least six months or so, I think. While I am gone I shall have plenty of time to sit and do nothing in my carriage while we travel, and I expect my thoughts will often turn to The Prisoner, and your request. If I have met him before then, I will more easily be able to weigh my impressions of him alongside your arguments for his freedom. Then, by the time I return, I will have a decision for you one way or another. Does that sound fair?"

"Exceeding so, your Majesty." Alia could not help but beam. Her heart soared and leapt, and for a moment, she felt as though she were the one ascending to the skies upon her own wings. In less than a year, Valyrym might be set free. It was a small chance, but it was more than the dragon had to hope for only that morning. "If I may ask, why are you taking me to your garden?"

"Because, my friend The Black Bird is visiting, you see." The Queen laughed to herself.

"Black Bird?" Alia scrunched her face a little. She'd heard that somewhere before.

"And when the Black Bird visits, he often likes to spend the day lounging in the garden, unseen."

"And who, or what is the Black Bird?"

The Queen gave Alia a very sly look. "He's my personal messenger, among other things. As I said, I've eyes and ears everywhere. You know, Alia, you're not the only one with a winged friend."

---

Chapter Twelve

Alia ascended to the very top of the tower, following behind the Queen and her many guards. It was a long climb, though if it bothered the Queen she did not let it show. Alia was thankful for the long, winding stairwell she traversed every day to see Valyrym. If not for growing accustom to making that trip the ascent up the tower would have completely worn her out. Even so her legs were burning by the time they finally reached the top. Yet it was a burning that paled compared to that of Alia's curiosity. A winged friend? What did the Queen mean?

At the top of the staircase a large circular room comprised the tower's top floor. Alia paused and looked around. The place looked as though someone had turned a giant bedroom into some gardener's store house. At one side of the room there was a hearth built directly into the circular stone wall. Shelves filled with musty old tomes sat right up next to shelves covered in potted plants and sacks of dirt dragged up from the castle below. A few small trees in clay pots sat nestled around a window, bathing in the sunlight that shone through. Barrels filled with water lined another section of wall. At the fair side of the room, there was an exceptionally large, exceptionally sturdy looking bed covered with layer after layer of colorful blankets and pillows. A few black blotches marred the bed here and there. The room was scented with the sweet aroma of flowers, and another, vaguely animalistic scent she couldn't quite identify.

"This way, my dear," the Queen said cheerily as she walked across the room to yet another staircase. This one ascended to a very large trap door in the ceiling.

As the Queen reached the staircase, one of her guards went first. "Allow me your Majesty."

"Oh, nonsense," the Queen huffed. "As long as he's not got his fat ass on the trap door again, it's nothing I can't manage."

The guard laughed, but nonetheless went to open the trap door. The Queen did not stop him from putting his armored shoulder into it, and heaving open the thick wooden door. Alia noticed the door's sturdy deadbolt had been left open. The guard went outside first, and the Queen followed after beckoning with a hand for Alia to follow before the younger woman could further investigate the room.

Alia joined the guards and made her way up the last set of stairs. They were simple stone and followed the curvature of the wall. With the ample light shining down through the trapdoor in the ceiling Alia spotted a hint of green lichen clinging to the stairs here and there she hadn't been able to see earlier on the way up. The smell of fresh air heavily scented with flowers and fruit blossoms billowed down through the trap door, and when Alia emerged she found herself amidst an oasis of sorts.

The top of the tower had been transformed into a beautiful garden. There were planters everywhere, from small narrow boxes filled with blooming red and blue flowers, to much larger circular pots scarcely wide enough to contain the roots of the fruit trees that towered above them. Some of the planters were wooden, others carved from stone or shaped from baked clay. Some of them looked as though they'd been up here for ages, almost totally covered in thick layers of green moss or yellowy lichens. In the distance, Alia caught glimpses of what looked like red fruit ripe and ready to be picked. Beyond them something large and dark lay crumpled, like a tarp or other covering to protect some of the more delicate plants from getting too much sun.

Nearby, the Queen lifted a watering can and shook it. Scowling, she set it back down, and picked up another one. Finding it half full, she began to water the nearest plants. Alia could not help but giggle. Who would have thought the Queen would have some sort of secret garden high atop one of the famous towers? It couldn't be seen from the city, that was for sure.

"Fill that," she said to one of the guards, indicating the watering can. He scooped it up and then went back down the stairs. The Queen smiled at Alia a moment. "What do you think?"

"It's beautiful," Alia admitted with a smile.

"Thank you," the Queen said. "I consider this a sanctuary of sorts. Between the exertion of climbing the stairs and the relaxation of tending a garden, it's hard not to leave in a better mood than I arrive in." When the watering can was empty, she passed it to another guard and waved at him. "I collect different plants and things, when I can. When I travel I try to bring some back. Not everything can survive the same climate, of course. Some of what's up here does better in a cooler, rainy climate. The apple trees for example."

"Apple trees?" Alia's eyes went wide. They couldn't be...could they?

"Yes," the Queen said, taking the watering can that was offered by a guard upon his return. "Apple Trees. From the area in and around the Twenty Fourth province. There's a few with apples if you're hungry. Lovely sweet things, even if they never seem to know when they're supposed to be with fruit and when they're not."

Oh please, oh please, oh please. Let them be. "I should like to see them, at least. "

"Of course." The Queen waved her hand. "They're on the far side, but so is The Black Bird. Don't let him frighten you, but don't frighten him either if he's taking a nap. Lazy thing." She laughed and shook her head. "Go on, Dear."

Alia gave the Queen an odd look. Black Bird. What an odd thing to call a friend. Almost like a code name. Then again, she said he had wings, right? Alia giggled to herself, imagining the Queen talking to an immense crow. She wondered if such a thing ever talked back. As she worked her way between the trees and plants Alia wondered where had she heard that name before. Alia mulled it over in her mind as though savoring a foreign food and trying to discern an odd flavor. She couldn't quite place it. Wait...hadn't she seen that term in the Servant Master's report?

Just as Alia recollected that, she spotted the apples. The trees were not too large, no taller than she was, but the apples themselves were instantly recognizable even to Alia. They were plump looking, and their skin was a brilliant ruby red hue with flecks of golden spots all across the rind. They really were Aran'alian apples. Or were they Vurnel apples? They grew near the border, if she remembered correctly. Not that it mattered. She could take some back for Valyrym and he'd be ever so delighted. Lost for a moment in her own thoughts, Alia reached out to pluck one of the apples from a bough. The Queen said she could have a few, didn't she?

"That is mine," a silken voice suddenly rumbled behind her.

Alia dropped the apple and whirled around. For a moment, she completely expected to find a black dragon with blue paws staring at her. Instead, she found a creature she had never seen before. Suddenly she understood what the Queen meant when she referred to her winged friend as the Black Bird. The Queen's friend was a black gryphon.

While Alia was fixated on the apples, the crumpled black form she'd spotted at the far edge of the tower had quite silently risen to its paws and slunk through the garden to stand just behind Alia. Alia trembled for a moment in a mixture of shock, fear, and excitement. It wasn't as though she thought the Queen had taken her to be devoured, but she imagined it was only natural for to be feel a twinge of icy fear flooding her veins when startled by a large predator. Though the gryphon was not as large as Valyrym, he was certainly a good deal larger than Alia.

Yet, the first question that spilled across Alia's lips had nothing to do with who the gryphon, why it was friends with the Queen or whether it intended to devour her. "Where did you hear that?"

"What?" The gryphon pulled its head back, and Alia was startled by just how expressive its beak seemed, how intelligent its faintly green eyes. "What do you mean where did I hear that?" The creature tossed its head, flaring up a crest of longer silver-edged feathers around the back of its ebon head.

"You said that is mine," Alia explained. "I want to know where you heard that."

The gryphon snorted, flaring its black feathered wings a little. "...Thought you'd be less daft."

A smirk twitched at Alia's lips. That sounded like something Valyrym would say. She crouched down to pick up the apple. "It's a simple enough question, isn't it?"

"It's a foolish question. I simply stated my ownership of the apple you're stealing." The gryphon rustled its wings. "How else am I to tell you something belongs to me without telling you exactly that?"

"It was the way you said it," Alia said with a sigh and a laugh. It was foolish of her to assume anything else, and she knew it. While she was crouched, she snuck a peek along the creature's belly in an attempt to ascertain its gender. She half expected the thing to be equipped like a cat, with everything stuck out the back. Instead, she spotted a sheath and testicles that were not unlike those of a canine, or even Valyrym, for that matter. Aside from the fact they were covered in black fur. "It reminded me of someone, that's all."

"Ah, that's right," the gryphon said with a silken purr. "You're the dragon's warden, aren't you. I can only imagine how much effort even a captive dragon must put into claiming everything as his own." The gryphon twisted his beak up into a little smirk. "And stop looking at my balls."

There was a time when that comment would have made Alia blush. But by this point, she was so used to hearing things like that from Valyrym, let alone seeing them, that it didn't even phase her. She dusted off the apple with her sleeve, and shrugged. "I was only curious about your gender."

"You could have asked, you know."

"And you could have her Majesty's tailor sew you up a pair of pants if you didn't want people peeking at your balls."

"You've a quick wit for someone who asks such stupid questions."

"And you," Alia said, gesturing at the gryphon with the apple. "Are you a liar. The Queen has already told me these apples belong to her."

"Has she then," the gryphon muttered, sounding as though he were sulking. "Well, I brought them to her." He looked around, and soon pointed with a paw at a particular apple tree. "That one, any way. So that one's mine."

Alia watched the gryphon point at the tree while claiming it. "Is it then," she said, her voice flat. Granted, how else could a creature indicate something in particular without pointing at it? She took a bite of the apple, watching the gryphon, and found it tasted delightful. Sweeter than the average apple, with crisp flesh and plenty of juice. She could only imagine how wonderful it would have tasted if it had been nurtured its whole live on silver rain rather than regular water.

"They're good, aren't they?" The gryphon asked with a little chuckle.

"Fantastic, actually," Alia admitted, taking another bite. She stared at the gryphon while she ate it.

He ruffled his feathers, and gave an odd little squawking noise. "It is impolite to stare."

"Sorry," Alia said with a giggle. "I've never seen a gryphon before, though."

"Oh?" The gryphon squawked again and then gave an exaggerated gasp. "That is terrible. Gryphons are marvelous, everyone should get to see one now and then. Here, come admire me in the light."

Gods Above, Alia thought to herself with a wry grin. This creature could give Valyrym quite a challenge in a smugness contest. "I thought you said staring wasn't polite?"

"It isn't," the gryphon said, turning to walk back the way he'd come between trees planted in massive stone pots. "But you won't be staring, you'll be admiring. And gryphons enjoy being admired."

"Sounds like something a dragon would say," Alia giggled, following after the creature. She could not help but notice he wasn't exactly as she'd imagined a gryphon to be, based upon images and the occasional description.

"Dragons," the gryphon said, as if scoffing at the very notion. "Arrogant, self-obsessed and violent."

"So far the only difference I can see is that you haven't been violent yet."

"Nor will I be," the gryphon assured her. "Any friend of the Queen's is a friend of mine. As for dragons, well you see a dragon demands to be admired. A gryphon, on the other paw, deserves to be admired. You see the difference don't you?"

"Oh, I see the difference alright." Alia took another bite of her apple, giggling. "The difference being that you're somehow even more vain than the dragon I'm in charge of. Must be all the feline blood."

"Feline blood?" The gryphon squawked indignantly, then clacked his beak. "My dear, we gryphons do not have any feline blood. We are not related to felines, nor are we related to birds, or any other creature we may in some slight way resemble. We are our own creature, and we are quite proud of it."

Alia wondered if the gryphon had picked up the term "my dear" from the Queen, or if in fact it was the other way around. "That actually sounds just like what the dragon says, whenever I compare him to a lizard."

"Well, that's foolish of him, because he is a lizard." The gryphon reached a clearing at the far end of the tower, where plenty of blankets were spread out upon the stone in a large patch of sunlight. A few black feathers marked them here and there. Ah, so that was what she'd spotted earlier on the bed. "I, however, am not a feline, nor a bird. I am fact better than both put together."

Alia couldn't help but laugh, shaking her head. "I'm starting to see why the Queen likes you."

"Of course you are. It's because I'm fantastic," the gryphon said as matter-of-factly as if he was pointing out the sky was in fact blue.

"I was going to say it's because you're so unbearable vain it's almost endearing."

"Close enough, I suppose." The gryphon turned to the side and stretched himself out a little as he stood before Alia. He spread out his wings, flicking his lightly tufted tail. "You may commence admiring me. And feel free to admire with your hands, as well." He clacked his beak, watching her through one green eye. "So long as they don't wander where they don't belong."

"You should be so lucky," Alia smirked.

Alia smiled at the way the gryphon tossed his head indignantly. It reminded her of Val. She began to walk around the gryphon a little, squeezing herself between his outstretched wings and the various fruit trees growing from gray stone pots all around the tower. The longer feathers along the back of his wings rustled just a little in the breeze. Most of the wind she expected atop the tower was shielded in part by the stone battlements and the taller trees growing up around the edges of the roof.

Just as Alia had never seen a dragon until the day she met Valyrym, she'd never seen a gryphon up close until this moment. Now she was a little ashamed to realize she'd once thought of them as something the gods must have stitched together from spare parts. She'd always rather imagined some eagle's head and wings rather awkwardly placed upon the body of a lion, yet this creature was anything but awkward. Alia couldn't help but think this gryphon would appear graceful even while falling down the stairs. Which would be a rather amusing sight.

"You don't look as stitched together as I'd imagined."

"What?" The gryphon gasped as if horrified by the notion. He turned his head to glare at Alia, then narrowed his dark green eyes when she began to laugh and he realized she was only teasing him.

Despite what people might think, there was certainly nothing haphazard about the gryphon's composition. It actually reminded Alia a little bit of dragons, in so far as dragon anatomy also seemed to blend bits and pieces of other various creatures into one fluid, unique whole. The gryphon's anatomy certainly shared structures and qualities with large felines, but there was also something somewhat canine about its body as well. And those features flowed quite smoothly into the beast's avian looking head and feathered wings.

Alia stood alongside the gryphon a moment, examining his limbs. Rather then the faintly scaled talons of a bird, the gryphon's front legs much more closely resembled those of an immense black furred lion complete with broad paws. When the gryphon spotted Alia looking at his paws, he hoisted one up, and turned it over to show off the soft black pads. He flexed the paw, and Alia saw that just like dragons, the gryphon held an opposable thumb upon his paw as well. The creature's hind limbs held a similar structure to those of a dragon, about halfway between canine and feline to Alia's mind.

"Have you claws?" Alia asked.

"The sharpest you've ever seen," the gryphon said with a smug purr, unsheathing all the claws upon the front paw he was demonstrating for her. While his paw was furred in black, his talons were a grayish tone. He waggled them in the air a little.

Alia shrugged. "Not bad. My dragon's are sharper, though."

"They are not," the gryphon scoffed.

"He cuts stone with them."

The gryphon clacked his beak, then quickly withdrew his claws and set his paw down. "Probably breaks them in the process."

Alia giggled. It seemed gryphons accepted defeat about as well as dragons did. She walked around the creature again, now turning her attention to the layers of fur and feathers that covered his body. Much of his form was coated in inky black fur that looked as soft as anything Alia could imagine. The rest of him was covered instead in ebony feathers of varying sizes. Near where the fur and feather met Alia often couldn't tell where the fur ended and the tiny, downy feathers began.

"You've a lot of feathers, haven't you."

"That's a silly thing to say," the gryphon murmured. "But yes, I do. Especially here!"

The gryphon threw his wings the rest of the way open. It seemed more a gesture of smug pride than one of thoughtfulness towards Alia's examination. Alia did not mind as it gave her a better look at the creature's wings. Alia had to admit, they were very impressive wings indeed. A impressive wingspan and a multitude of mobile feathers gave the gryphon great maneuverability in the air. As Alia watched, the gryphon flexed a few sets of feathers up and down a little. At the very back of his wings, Alia realized there was a hint of silvery gray, only a single layer of feathers there that almost seemed to outline the trailing edge of his wings when they were fully extended.

"You've some silver hidden in there," Alia said as much to herself as the gryphon.

"I certainly do." His voice oozed smugness. She was starting to think this creature was more proud of himself than Valyrym had ever been. "Some of my tail feathers and crown feathers are the same."

Alia glanced towards the creature's tail. Long and tufted, it resembled the tail of a thickly-furred black lion perhaps more than the gryphon would care to admit. But on either side of his tail, around his rump, the gryphon flared out a series of long feathers no doubt designed to help with stability in flight. Most of them were black as well, but they were speckled with more of that silvery color. Alia dared not tell the gryphon how beautiful she thought they were lest that knowledge swell his ego till his skull burst open.

"So I see," she said, smiling. "And I take it the crown feathers are the ones on your head?"

"You would be correct," the gryphon said, turning to gaze upon her. "These, to be specific."

The gryphon raised an extensive set of larger, longer feathers around his head and neck. Now Alia realized a whole host of long feathers ran down the back of his neck, as well as all around the back of his head. There seemed to be two layers of crown feathers around his head. The top layer was black like most of him, but the second layer was silvery gray, so that when he flared them all up together it almost gave his head the appearance of being edged in moonlight.

"These we call our crown feathers," the gryphon said, lifting a paw to run it back over his own plumage. "The silver ones along the back of my wing we call our wing's under-feathers, and the tiny feathers such as those along much of my neck, or those that blend into our fur, we call our pinfeathers."

"Aren't you just full of knowledge," Alia said, smirking.

"Everyone should be educated on the greatness of gryphons," the creature assured her, slowly lowering his crown feathers back down.

"I do believe you're the smuggest creature I've ever met," Alia said, shaking her head and laughing a little. "And I take care of a dragon for a living!"

"At least we gryphons have the beauty to back up our smugness. Dragons just have scales and bad attitudes."

"Well, you're right about that, anyway." Alia folded her arms under her breasts, grinning. "But I wonder how quick to insult a dragon face to face you'd be."

"Quite, I assure you," the gryphon grinned, pulling his wings back against his body. Between the various flexible crown feathers, the gryphon's furry ears, and his almost shockingly mobile beak, Alia was surprised by just how expressive the gryphon's face could be. While it resembled a bird's head in outward appearance, his beak was clearly not the same given its suppleness. And she'd already seen the creature's dark green eyes narrow and widen, and she was sure birds couldn't do that, either. "Besides, I can out fly any dragon."

"Sounds as though you already have."

"Indeed," the gryphon said, shaking himself, ruffling up some of his feathers. Then he plopped himself down on his rump, extended a wing and curled it in front of himself to begin preening it. "I am a creature of the world, after all."

"And you spend a lot of time insulting dragons and then flying away from them?"

"In my experience with dragons, they do an excellent job insulting themselves." The creature pulled a loose feather from his wing and spat it out.

"No wonder you have to fly away from them." Alia glanced up at the sky, half expecting to find something circling high above. She wondered if the reports of dragons in the sky had actually been a gryphon, too far up for anyone to tell the difference. "Sounds as though you hate them as much as the average human does."

"And it sounds as though you do not." The gryphon nibbled the edge of his wing, then spat out a beakful of fluff.

"I do not," Alia assured him. "I see no reason to hate a creature simply because he was born a different species than me. And that goes for all creatures, not just dragons."

The gryphon smiled, his oddly mobile beak twisting up a little. "An excellent answer. And I attitude I share. I bear no hatred or ill will towards dragons." The gryphon pulled his wing back, folded it, and soon extended the other wing for continued grooming. "I simply find them arrogant, foul tempered, greedy, and exceptionally quick to punch a poor gryphon in the balls."

Alia burst out laughing, nearly doubling over. She wasn't sure if the gryphon meant that as a joke or not, but it certainly struck her as funny. She laughed so hard she had to wipe a tear from her eye when she straightened back up. "To be fair, it sounds like they're quick to hit each other in the balls, too. And from the way you speak about them, I'm going to go out on a limb and assume you deserved it."

"I certainly did not," the gryphon said before giving an indignant squawk. "And I can assure you, you've not felt pain until you've been punched in the testicles by an angry dragon."

"Not a problem I have to deal with," Alia giggled.

"No, I suppose not," the gryphon said, then chirped and grinned. "Next time I shall stay well out of range while hurling insults at the scaly beast."

"You could try not making them angry in the first place."

"What else am I supposed to do when he's chasing me around?" The gryphon flared his crown feathers. "Compliment all those sharp teeth he's gnashing at me?"

"That would be a start." Alia tilted her head, grinning. "You said I could touch you, right?"

"I did, and in fact I'm quite impressed with your self control. Must humans would have put their hands all over me by now."

"Don't be so cocky, Bird," Alia said, grinning.

"Don't call me Bird, Girl," the gryphon said, clacking his beak.

"Don't call me Girl, or I shall tie you up next to my dragon and paddle your furry ass right alongside his."

"Is that a common punishment in your dungeon?" He made a show of peering through the trees towards the Queen, busy trimming a hedge. "Perhaps I should ask her Majesty to sentence me to a day down there, then."

"It wouldn't seem so kinky when my dragon decided to kick your feathery ass up and down the prison for peppering him with insults." Alia giggled, and stepped forward to place her hand against the gryphon's chest. "Now quit being an arrogant brat."

The gryphon heaved a great sigh, staring out through the trees towards the horizon as if being forced to give up a cherished possession. "If I must."

Alia smiled as she stroked the gryphon's fur. It was quite warm and exceptionally soft. Softer than she expected, in fact, almost like silk. "So do you have a name, or do you want me to call you Gryphon?"

"Black Bird will suffice, for now, I think."

"I thought you didn't want me to call you Bird?"

"Black Bird is different. It is an affectionate nickname that her Majesty has bestowed upon me." The gryphon chuckled to himself. "Besides, you probably couldn't pronounce my real name. Krek is the shortened form, if you wish."

"I was just curious if you'd tell me or not. Dragons don't seem to like giving up their names."

The gryphon only murmured, closing his eyes for a moment as Alia stroked his chest. As he seemed to be enjoying it, she rubbed him a little more vigorously. When the light hit the gryphon just right, she saw a patchy line of gray that extended across part of his chest. She hadn't seen it before, it only seemed to appear when she ruffled his fur up and the sunlight hit his under-fur. Intrigued, she began to stroke him against the lay of his fur in other places as well, but was unable to find any more hidden gray.

"Cut that out," the gryphon finally said, squawking. "It feels funny!"

"There's a gray patch here." Alia gestured to it when the gryphon looked down. "I was just curious if you had more."

"It is a scar," the gryphon said, glancing away. Some old memory flickered in his dark green eyes, and he blinked a few times until it vanished. As a secret messenger the gryphon seemed good at hiding things. Alia would not have caught that look in his eyes if she hadn't attuned herself to looking for hidden pain in Valyrym's eyes so that she knew when he needed comfort most. The gryphon lifted a paw and pushed back some of the fur upon his chest to expose the old scar beneath, a puffy area of raised gray skin. "You see?"

"Yes, I do," Alia said, stroking the gryphon's fore leg a little. The fur there was even softer. "Who gave it to you?"

"Some idiot with a host of sharp, pointy implements," the gryphon muttered, smoothing his fur back down. "Not everyone is as fond of gryphons as they should be."

"I suppose he thought your hide would look better draped around his shoulders than your own body." Alia made a face. There was a time she might not have thought twice about that, just as there was a time that green dragon's head in Jena's bar wouldn't have bothered her. Now, both ideas made her sick. These were not animals or monsters, these were thinking, speaking creatures. "I hate people like that."

"Well that is good to know," the gryphon said, chuckling. "Let us not speak of it."

"Very well," Alia said in agreement. She walked around the side of the gryphon, touching one of his wings a moment. "Why did you want to speak to me?"

"I was curious." The gryphon turned his head around to watch Alia toy with his wing. He opened it up a little for her to tease his feathers. "I've never met a dragon's warden before. Does he give you much trouble?"

"Nothing a good boot in the balls won't fix," Alia said, smirking at the gryphon. Then, without warning, she yanked one of his black feathers from his wing. "This is mine, now."

"Ow!" The gryphon yowled, closing his wing up in a hurry. "That hurt! Just when I was all set to trade witty quips with you about kicking a dragon in the balls, you go and claim one of my feathers. I am not some bit of land to be claimed like some dragon's toy."

Alia whirled towards the gryphon, waving the feather in the gryphon's face. "You called it claiming! You know him, don't you!"

"Know who?" The gryphon asked, exasperated. "I know many people, in many lands. Of many species." Krek pivoted around to keep his black feathered wings out of the woman's grasp before she could decide to yank out any more of his precious plumage. "And what else am I going to call it when you steal one of my feathers for your own?"

"It's the way you said it, and I think you know exactly what I'm talking about." Alia regarded the feather a moment, running her fingers up and down the silken black plume. "I'm keeping this, by the way."

"Well I wasn't going to ask for it back, was I." The gryphon glared at her, and then made a show of lifting a paw to casually lick it a few times. "Everyone wants a piece of the gryphon's greatness."

"You seem to spread it around enough. Both the Queen and the Servant Master have gryphon feather quills. Black ones, at that." Alia tapped the feather against her palm.

"Yes, but they asked nicely," the gryphon snorted. "They don't get all grabby and yanky like some freshly hatched eggling."

Alia giggled at that mental image. "What do you do for her, anyway?"

"If by her you mean the Queen, then that is a state secret." The gryphon stretched out in in the sunlight, sprawling out on the ground.

"She said you were her messenger," Alia said.

Krek tilted his head to the side, regarding her a moment as if trying to decide if she was lying or not. "That is mostly correct. I do deliver royal missives and their replies to foreign nations, and that sort of thing. The sort of missives one wouldn't trust to your common messenger hawk. The pay is quite good, actually."

"Pay?" Alia giggled. "So she pays you?"

"Why else would I do it?" The gryphon stretched one paw out in front of himself, unsheathing and admiring his own claws.

"That's what I'm wondering about." Alia carefully stuffed the feather through her belt loop so she wouldn't forget it. "I've never seen a gryphon in Illandra, or at all. Much as they hate dragons here, I'm a little surprised they let a gryphon in."

"I should think Illandra would let in anyone willing to conduct profitable business with them."

That was probably truer to Illandra's nature than the gryphon realized. It also gave Alia the sudden mental image of the black feathered gryphon sitting in a cramped accountants office, stacks of papers littered about. He was clacking his beak like mad, working a comparatively tiny abacus with the claws of one paw while counting up coins with the other. When she burst out laughing, the gryphon gave her a puzzled look.

Alia ignored it. She shook her head in amusement, her black hair threatening to escape the bonds in which it was held behind her head. "What does a gryphon do with coin, anyway?"

"Whatever anyone else does with coin!"

"So you pay taxes and buy yourself a home, then have a pint down at the local pub?"

"Well, perhaps not everything others do. But I do buy myself things, and yes, I even have a home of my own. Not here, mind you, but in a place more...frequently accepting of gryphons."

"And of dragons?" Alia asked.

"Just full of questions, aren't you."

"Is the rain that falls on your house silver?" Alia's voice rose a little. This gryphon was a puzzle and a half and she didn't for one moment believe he wanted to talk to her simply because he was curious.

"Silver rain?" The gryphon scoffed and clacked his beak, then shook his head. "Whoever heard of such a foolish notion."

Alia stared at him a moment. She rested a hand on her hip, idly working her fingers against the softness of the feather tucked in her belt. He'd said himself he brought back one of those apple trees, so he must have seen or heard of the silver rain before, despite his scoffing. She wondered for a moment if this bird was one of the Queen's eyes in far lands. He certainly seemed good at keeping his own secrets. "How do you get in and out of town?"

"On my wings, my dear," the bird said, then chirped in amusement at what seemed such a silly question.

"Without being seen," Alia revised her question, feeling slightly irritable all of a sudden.

"Oh, that bit," the gryphon warbled to himself. "The darkness, of course. I fly into town in the middle of the night. I glide. I'm quite silent you see, when I'm gliding, and against the night sky I am very nearly invisible. During the day I stay inside, or upon this roof top or one of the other hidden gardens. The Queen considers me an open secret, in so much as many of her people know of me, but I am rarely acknowledged."

"Can you fit down the stairs? I mean, do you ever go inside the castle? I noticed some feathers on the bed in the tower, but aside from that."

"I don't like the stairs leading down the tower. A bit narrow and winding for my paws, but if I must, I can." The gryphon flicked his tail towards the railing. "There's another larger garden, on a balcony below. The doors there are widened to allow me access into the Central Keep."

So that was why there were areas of the Central Keep where Alia hadn't even seen any servants. An open secret. She rather liked the sound of that. "So you're hidden in plain sight. Seems a rather hard thing to achieve."

"Not particularly." The gryphon shrugged his wings. "Many things are hidden in plain sight, my dear. Just look at that stone around your neck."

Alia blinked. She'd almost forgotten she was wearing her heirloom necklace. Without thinking, she closed her fingers around it as if to hide it from the gryphon. An instinct she'd come across in her younger days, trying to keep covetous eyes off her only valuable possession. She felt her heartbeat quicken a moment.

"What about it?" She asked, forcing her voice out over her dry tongue.

"It's an heirloom, isn't it?"

"How'd you know that?"

"Don't many Aran'alian women have such jewelry?"

Alia thought about it a moment. She knew Kaylen didn't have such a necklace, but she could think of a few other times she had seen similar heirlooms in her youth. Mostly friends of her mothers, gathered for a rare joyous event. Poor as they all were, they still got together now and then and brought food and drink to be enjoyed by everyone. If anyone had a fancy dress or nice clothing they dressed up. At the time Alia had been too young to really enjoy such a party, but she'd busied herself playing with the other women's children.

"I suppose so, yes. But what does that..."

"Hidden in plain sight," the gryphon said, waving his paw in an arc as though opening some secret passage. "It looks to be a beautiful sapphire. But hold it up to the sun, and you get something more astounding still! I saw the light catch it earlier, and it looked spectacular, I can assure you."

Hold it up to the sun. It couldn't be. Could it? Alia turned away from the gryphon, and slowly, lifted her pendant. She clutched the sapphire, cut in the shape of a perfect sphere, held in silver coils. When she was facing the sun, she squinted and held the jewel up to it. It had been ages since she'd really looked at the thing. Most of her life she'd kept it hidden away for fear of losing something that was so precious to her. Her last remnant of her mother.

Sunlight glittered on blue stone. It shone brilliantly. Alia gently shook the stone, trying to peer inside it without blinding herself in the sunlight. As her eyes adjusted, fat, wispy coils of silvery mist twisted and swirled within the stone, illuminated only when directly in the sunlight. Alia's knees wobbled, and she nearly fell over, dropping the stone to hang from the silver chain around her neck once more. To her surprise, the gryphon moved to his feet in a flash to catch her as she stumbled, leaning against her till she caught her balance. She patted his furred body thankfully, giving him a sheepish grin. "Thank you."

"Not a problem my dear," the gryphon smiled at her. "Are you alright? Perhaps you should lie down, if you're feeling faint."

"I'm fine, thank you." Alia worked to catch her breath without realizing she'd actually lost it. She pressed her hand to her face, and began to laugh. She laughed and laughed, harder and harder until she was completely out of breath all over again.

The gryphon gave her a very odd, confused look. "What on earth are you cackling about?"

"Plan B, my dear bird," Alia said, beaming. "Plan B."

"That's an odd thing to say," the gryphon said, tossing his head and flexing his wings. "But I think I am coming to expect that from you." He smiled at her, and began to make his way past her, towards the Queen and the stairs. As he passed, he flicked his tail against her rump, making her yelp. "Nonetheless, it has been a pleasure to finally meet you, Alia Silverrain. I shall see you again with any luck."

Alia reached up and clutched her necklace tightly, watching the gryphon slink between the potted trees. "Who are you?"

Krek just grinned at her over his wings. "I'm the Black Bird, my dear."

Alia sighed to herself as she watched him walk away. She turned, and walked to the edge of tower, past all the trees and all the plants and to the serrated stone battlements that ringed the top of the tower. She pressed her hands against the old pitted stone block of one of the granite parapets and leaned against it. Alia stared out over the sprawling city of Illandra and the countryside beyond. It was a stunning view, and one she'd never behind before. All the buildings and houses of Illandra looked like the gray and brown scales on the back of some great monster, and the green forests and farmlands beyond where like the land on which that monster slumbered. It was a sunny day and everything was bathed in orange light. A few birds wheeled lazily in the sky. In the distance, hazy outlines of gray-blue mountains scratched at the horizon.

Yet the smile that broke out across Alia's face came from none of the things. She scarcely even noticed the view. No, that was not why Alia was smiling. She tightened her grip around her necklace and once more began to laugh.

Alia was smiling because one way or another, Valyrym was going free.

---

Chapter Thirteen

Far from Illandra, an worn down inn lay huddled and sheltered beneath a pair of towering willow trees like an old man curled beneath a warm blanket. Days of steady rain had bent the ancient willows down far beyond their usual drooping state until their boughs were resting against the inn's oft-patched roof. Water ran down the boughs and across the roof towards the gutters that edged it before being drained away to the swollen creek that surged behind the inn.

A single cloaked figure on horseback trudged up the darkened, muddy road that ran past the inn. The road was wide and from time to time well traveled, mostly by merchants and the occasional mercenary or family traveling to visit relatives. Tonight though, the road was nearly empty thanks to the heavy rains that had blanketed the land for the last few days. Thankfully for the owners of the inn, their business did not suffer. After all they were the only such establishment for quite a stretch of land in either direction. Isolated as they were, any travelers who wished to sleep in a bad rather than on the ground had little option. And travelers who had already arrived by the time the rains began and did not wish to journey further till they abated were stuck staying a few extra nights.

The man on the road had little choice in the matter, he had a meeting to attend this evening, and it took place within the confines of this isolated inn. His horse, a painted mare, seemed to have little more appreciation for the rain than he did. She fidgeted, and tossed her head often along the trip, her hooves splashing in the mud with every step. As if sensing a warm, dry stable, the horse picked up her pace without being bidden as soon as the first faint flicker of lamplight illuminated the rain in the distance.

The man was happy to let the horse quicken her pace. Tthe sooner she was stabled the sooner he'd be inside the inn. Before long he had his horse tucked away in a cozy, dry stable. As soon as the horse was happily digging into a trough filled with plenty of feed the man removed his pack and made one last dash through the rain. A cobbled pathway lead from the stables around to the front of the inn.

The place looked as though it was nearly as old as the trees that stood like sentinels above it, though the trees had weathered the ages far better than the inn. Many of the once white-paneled walls were obscured by a heavy layer of thick green moss. A few hornets clung to nests no one bothered to remove beneath overhangs. The roof of the place had likely seen more repairs than the owners had seen winters. It was two stories yet with the way the visible beams sagged here and there it looked as though it might cave in on itself at any moment.

Twin lanterns hung on either side of the old oak door out front. The lanterns were heavily mirrored to increase their light. In that light, the man arriving at the inn could not help but notice the heavy rains seemed to shine with an almost silver hue. A moldering sign hung on a wooden post near the front door, proclaiming this place to be The Hammered Dragon. A faded painting upon the sign depicted a rather fat and satisfied looking beast of indeterminate looking color fast asleep upon a hoard of mugs and steins. The place looked more like The Dragon's Latrine as far as the man was concerned.

He opened the front door, stepped inside, and shook the rain from his cloak best he could. Silvery droplets splattered the floor. He furrowed his brow for a moment. He'd rarely seen rain like that this far east of Aran'alian. After a moment's though, he put it out of his mind. Silver rain or not, at least it was warm and dry inside the inn. Perhaps more importantly, the interior of the place seemed in excellent shape compared to the exterior.

Though the rain made it a chilly evening even in the middle of summer, a warm fire roaring in an old stone hearth kept the ground floor tavern nice and cozy. The man glanced around till he spotted a place to hang his cloak to dry. He pulled his oiled green rain cloak off, and hung it up. Beneath it his thick, pleated long sleeve grey tunic was damp, but not soaked, and his short black hair was much the same. His dark blue and gold breeches had not fared so well, thanks to the wind driving the rain against his legs whenever his cloak fluttered open. Still, he'd dry eventually, and had spare clothes in his travel pack. Granted, those were probably soaked as well.

Aside from the green cloak he hung up himself, the rack was otherwise empty. It seemed anyone else staying here hadn't bothered to go out into the rain and no one else had showed up to the inn that evening. Either that or there was a cloak thief about. The man chuckled to himself. Hopefully there was still a room left. Otherwise he'd have to sleep in the tavern or something. At least he had a bedroll strapped to his travel pack.

Deciding it was best to conduct his meeting first and worry about lodging second, the man made his way into the tavern that made up most of the inn's ground floor. A long bar lined one of the walls. The bar's wooden countertop was carved nearly end to end with all manner of names and dates and phrases, as though every customer who'd ever been here had been allowed to scratch a lasting token of their visit into the wood. Behind the bar lay rack after rack filled with barrels of ale, mead, and wine. Heavier spirits in expensive looking bottles lined a few shelves. Several gruff looking customers sat along the bar, ignoring the jovial barkeep's attempts to lift their spirits.

The rest of the room was filled with a motley assortment of tables and chairs, few of which actually matched. The walls were lined with cozier looking wooden booths, a few of which even had cushions upon the seats. Here and there buckets caught a bit of water leaking through the ceiling. Given that they were on the ground floor, such a sight made the man worry about the quality of the rooms above them. A variety of lanterns hung from the dark wooden rafters that spanned the ceiling in interlocked arches. At one corner of the room, there was a small wooden platform that served as a makeshift stage for entertainers. Given the lute resting against the wall there seemed to be a musician or a bard in residence. If he was any good the bard could probably make a killing entertaining the travelers stuck an extra day or three as they waited out the rain. And if he wasn't any good, well, by that third day it would probably be the audience doing the killing.

A few of the tables were occupied, but many were empty. Instinctively the man swept his gaze around the room. With one discrete glance he took in all the room's occupants as well as all the exits and entrances. There were three ways in and out. They including the door he'd just come through leading to the entry room, and another door that lead to a hall with several inn rooms and the stairwell. Behind the bar was a third door that lead into the kitchen.

The man paid most of the occupants little heed, but two people immediately stuck out to him. One of them was a woman he recognized. She stuck out because she was the woman he had traveled all this way to meet with. The woman gave him an excited wave as she spotted her long time friend.

The other occupant drew his attention for two reasons. One, he was sitting in a place that allowed him a very clear view of all three doors and allowed him to keep an eye upon all the various patrons. From the looks of it that was exactly what the person was doing. Perhaps he was an ex soldier, or a spy, or simply a well trained bouncer. The second reason the man immediately noticed that particular occupant was because he was a Koraa'gi.

Koraa'gi were hardly common in this part of the world, though they weren't completely unknown, either. Native to far southern lands of both hot plains and high, icy mountains, the Koraa'gi were often thought of as something akin to wolves who had long ago taught themselves to walk upright and speak the tongue of men. Of course such a thing was no doubt an insult to the Koraa'gi themselves, but the resemblance was certainly there.

In general Koraa'gi stood a little taller than men though the difference was a matter of inches, not of feet. They tended to be a broad shouldered people, comprised most often of lean, corded muscle and bodies covered with plenty of thick fur. The general shape of their body was as much that of a man as their fine details were those of a wolf. They had a very canine looking head complete with a long muzzle and pointed, swiveling ears. Yet despite the canine muzzle and features, their faces were far more expressive than those of any true wolf. They also had firmer lips around their muzzle, and a tongue with as much a talent for speech as any human had. They also had a tail much like a wolf would, and the shape of their legs and feet always reminded the man of the hind legs of a dog. Not that he'd ever make such an observation right in front of Koraa'gi. Not unless he wanted his face punched in.

In his admittedly limited experience, the Koraa'gi were a couple of things. They were quite friendly to anyone who showed them the same courtesy, and they were extremely loyal to any friends they'd made. They also tended to be a bit hot tempered and generally took any comparison to animals to be in insult worthy of a brawl. Usually, the Koraa'gi won those brawls, to. Save for that one time that really drunk Koraa'gi got kneed in the groin by a woman as soon as he stood up to challenge her. Apparently the wolves kept their balls in the same place as men because that fight was over before it started.

Granted, the man had only ever met a handful of the wolf like creatures. They were not often common in lands held mostly by humans. In fact the Koraa'gi along with their various smaller cousins had quite the reputation as little more them primitives at best, and barbarians at worse. Or was it the other way around? Most of them lived in simple, far flung tribes where they subsisted as they always had with hunting, farming and trading. They made excellent warriors as well, as all their kind trained from a young age to protect their tribe. Not all of them liked humans, and the man could hardly blame them. It always seemed like humans were spreading faster than any other race, and slowly but surely the other peoples of the world were being squeezed out. It was increasingly common to see the wolves traveling further abroad, finding work as mercenaries or bodyguards or other work where strength and loyalty were virtues.

This Koraa'gi in particular was covered mostly in fur of gray and brown, fading towards white along his muzzle, with sandy brown ears. He wore lightly pleated, dark green jerkin, and plenty of muscle rippled beneath the fur along his arms. more than a few weapons were strapped around his body. The man waved at the Koraa'gi, always good to appear friendly to them as soon as possible. The wolf glanced up at him, nodded in appreciation, and gestured with his mug of ale.

From the other side of the room, a woman's voice called out. "You gonna come say hello, or you gonna stare at the wolf all day?"

The man cringed inwardly. He half expected the Koraa'gi to stand up and demand an apology immediately. But the Koraa'gi only snorted and took a swig of his ale. Either the wolf didn't speak the common human tongue, or he simply didn't care. Perhaps he'd been in these lands long enough to realize calling him a wolf was not usually meant as an insult. Either way, the man made his way over to the table in the corner to greet his friend.

He pulled out a chair, and ran his hands back over his head, squeezing out a little more rainwater. He flicked his hands to send the droplets spraying across the table then wiped his fingers off on his half-dry tunic. Again he couldn't help notice that the water he'd rung from his hair had just a hint of a silvery sheen to it.

"You're soaked, Tarek" his acquaintance said with a laugh. "You look like the mouse that got plowed by the cat. And then drowned."

"That's not an expression," Tarek said, shaking his head and laughing a little. "And where's my damn ale, Sylva?"

"Well, it should be an expression!" Sylva laughed, and gestured for the barkeep to bring a few fresh mugs of ale. She set her empty mug at the side of the table, and in only a moment the ruddy faced, sturdily built barkeep had swapped them out. "Thank you, my good man." Sylva picked up a mug, and took a long pull from it, then wiped the froth from her mouth with the back of a hand. "You're gonna have to drink fast if you plan to catch up."

Tarek smirked. "I know better than that, Sylva. I'd say you can hold your drink better than any man I know, but I'd have to pick at least three men and put them together to make it even close." He took a drink, found the ale to be of surprisingly good quality, and took another swallow before setting it back down.

"Four men, I think," Sylva said, grinning.

"At least," Tarek muttered.

Tarek had known Sylva a while now, and there were two things he'd never recommend anyone do. Sylva could drink just about anyone under the table, and she could outfight just about any professional soldier Tarek could think of. She might not be as strong as some of them but she was ten times faster. She could hit them ten times in all the most sensitive parts of their bodies before they'd even taken the first swing at her. And she could do the same with a knife or a sword when she had to. Hell, she could outfight a Koraa'gi, he was sure of it. Come to think of it, it was Sylva who'd kneed that drunk one in the balls last time.

Tarek glanced over his shoulder at the Koraa'gi seated in the center area of the tavern. Now that he thought about it, that wolf looked awfully familiar. The gray-white muzzle stood out a bit. Gave him an older appearance though Tarek was pretty sure it was just his natural coloration. After a moment, he gave a long sigh and shook his head.

"That's the same wolf you kneed in the balls, isn't it."

"Sure is," Sylva said as if proud of that. "Not too many women can truthfully claim they've dropped a Koraa'gi with one blow."

Tarek couldn't help chuckling. "I suppose there's that. So what's he doing here, he come to beat the shit out of you for embarrassing him?"

"He can try, if he wants," Sylva said, shrugging. "But since we're friends now I don't think he's going to want to do that."

"Ah," Tarek said. "That kind of friend." He gave the wolf another little wave, and once again the wolf raised his glass. This time though, he made a point to show the hilt of his hand ax strapped at his hip. Tarek turned back towards Sylva. "You know, Sylva, there was a time you didn't need a bodyguard."

"Times have changed, Tarek." Sylva scowled, and folded her arms beneath her breasts. "We knew the stakes when we started this."

"I know, I know," Tarek said, chuckling. "Remember when we kids, and we always talked about how we were gonna fight evil and bring down the wicked empire of Illandra?" Tarek swished his ale around in his mug, smiling wistfully. "It seemed like a lot more fun when our lives weren't actually on the line."

"Yes, but at least our secret meetings aren't being held in a tree fort barely patched together by children anymore."

Tarek grinned, and gestured at the inn around them with its leaky ceiling, motley furniture and sagging outer walls. "I'm not so sure about that, actually."

"Oh, it's not that bad," Sylva said, giggling. "And doesn't the rain make you feel nostalgic?"

"It is unusually silver." Tarek scowled a moment. "Never seen it get so silver this far east before."

"It happens now and then," Sylva said, waving her hand through the air. "When a strong enough storm sweeps through Aran'alia and then into other lands." She paused, took a drink of ale, and then made a face. "Though if I'm honest this is furthest I've ever seen the silver rains extend."

"Maybe it's a good omen."

"I'll drink to that!"

"You'd drink to it even if it was a bad omen," Tarek said, grinning.

As Sylva giggled at his joke, Tarek smiled to himself. He hadn't heard her giggle in a while. He knew that sound well in their younger days, and now that he heard it again, he found himself missing it. For a moment he just enjoyed the sound as he looked Sylva over. How long had it been since he'd seen her last? Months? A year? Too long.

Sylva had never been a queen of beauty, in fact to most men she was likely downright plain looking. She had a rounded face, light olive toned skin marked with a few pocks here and there. Her hair was very dark, and very curly. She'd inherited the raven tone from her Aran'alian father, and the curlyness from her Illandran mother. Despite how such a union might sound, Slyva was very much the child of love and not force. Growling up, Sylva was nearly the definition of a tomboy. Those tendencies had traveled with her far into adulthood. Her nose was a little crumpled looking, thanks to having it broken as a child in a fight. A fight that she won as Sylva was always quick to point out. And though her body was certainly shapely enough it was also firm and strong.

Just like Tarek, Sylva had long been a warrior. They were both soldiers yet they were not part of an army. An army had form that could targeted or hunted down. An army had a country to call home. Yet Tarek and Sylva had no such place to their call their own. What country they did have was possessed in heart and mind but not in physical form. That country had been taken from them long before they'd ever been born.

Tarek and Sylva were Death In The Night.

Death In The Night had no home to call its own. They were an army without form. They were a knife in the back, an arrow in the throat, a flame in the darkness and they were everywhere now. Aran'alia was gone but Death In The Night was an ideal, and it could never be destroyed. They had no base to raid, no homeland to conquer, and no head to remove. The more Illandra hunted them the stronger they became.

"So what did you bring me out here for, anyway?" Tarek finally asked, leaning back into his chair with his mug of ale in one hand.

"It's happening," Sylva said simply.

"What is happening?" Tarek took a drink.

"It," Sylva said, as if that should explain it.

Tarek sighed, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. Gods, she could irritating when she really wanted to be. "Sylva, I have been traveling in the rain for three days. I've scarcely slept and I haven't been dry since I set out."

"The endgame," Sylva hissed through her teeth, leaning forward. "It's happening."

Tarek slowly opened his eyes. He leaned forward as well. By now he'd realized that this inn was clearly very sympathetic to their cause, but old instincts died hard. He kept his voice low. "You mean it's happening, then? It's confirmed?"

"Yes," Sylva said, nodding. "We don't have all the details yet, but she's definitely going to be leaving the walls of that festering city at last."

"So..." Tarek pursed his lips, sweat suddenly beading on his forehead. "We'll have a shot."

"Oh, we'll have more than a shot at her," Sylva said, grinning. "We're going to kill her, Tarek."

Tarek took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "You make it sound like it's an easy thing to kill a Queen."

"We'll have help, you know," Sylva said quietly before taking a drink of her ale. "This is what Death In The Night had been waiting for. A chance to strike the kind of decisive blow that hasn't been struck since the dragon who started this whole damn thing nearly decapitated Illandra."

"Shame he didn't," Tarek muttered.

"You know what they say, Tarek. The wind that..."

"Yes, yes," Tarek muttered. His mood was more thoughtful than soured, though it might not appear that way. "I've heard you say it enough damn times over the years."

Sylva merely chuckled to herself. She took a drink of her wine, and watched Tarek, trying to read his rather broad, sun-darkened face. "When she's dead, we'll put everything else into motion. They will never see it coming, but they've brought it on themselves with their greed, and their cruelty, and their..."

"Sylva," Tarek snapped, drawing her attention. "Enough rhetoric. You say we don't have the details yet?"

"No," Sylva said, shaking her head. "But we know she's going to be taking a very long journey across the continent. Once our contacts get us more solid information about her itinerary, we will know the best place to strike her down."

"You can't just strike down the Queen of Illandra," Tarek said, folding his arms and leaning back against his chair. "She's going to have to more highly trained guards than either of us can possibly count. She'll have far too tight a defensive perimeter for any of my assassins to penetrate, and if we call up enough forces to mass an army big enough to overrun her positions, they'll catch wind of the movements long before we're ready, and get her to safety before our men are even on the march."

"You let me worry about that," Sylva said softly. She reached down under the table, and pulled up a large, brown leather travel bag. Patting it, she smiled in a very knowing way. "We won't be doing this alone, Terak."

"Won't we?" Tarek raised a brow, wondering what Sylva was getting at.

"No," Sylva assured him. "She'll keep her guard force relatively small. It's supposed to be a secret journey. She won't want so many soldiers with her that she'd draw our attention. Unfortunately for her, she already has."

"Even a small force may be an insurmountable task, given the type of men she'll have protecting her."

"Ah," Sylva said, holding up a single finger. "That might be true, under normal circumstances." She patted the bag again, her grin only growing wider. "But we will have a secret weapon."

"Will we then," Tarek said with a disbelieving snort.

"Yes," Sylva said sharply. "A dragon."

"A dragon?!" Tarek sat bolt upright in his chair. He could think of one dragon immediately of the top of his head. But the more he thought about, the more he knew that dragon would want nothing to do with this. "He won't help us," Tarek said, shaking his head.

"I'm not talking about that dragon," Sylva said as she began to open the bag. "I assure you, the dragon I speak of wants the Queen dead as badly as we do."

Tarek's belly twisted a little. Surely she wasn't talking about that dragon, was she? As soon as Sylva opened the bag a little, Tarek peeked inside. In an instant Tarek knew exactly which dragon she spoke of.

"She calls herself..."

"The Wind That Carries," Tarek finished for her.

"Yes," Sylva said, smiling. "She is The Wind That Carries." Sylva slowly withdrew a stuffed blue dragon from her bag. The dragon that had become the unspoken symbol of Death In The Night. Sylva set the blue dragon atop the table. "And The Wind That Carries shall carry the Queen of Illandra to her death, and carry us at last to victory. Victory for Aran'alia."

Tarek slowly reached out, and symbolically placed his hand on the blue dragon's head.

"For Aran'alia."

---

Thus ends The Wind That Carries. Thank you so much for reading. Please Fav, Vote, and leave your comments. You make it all worth while.