FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

[Chapter 1]

"Protect."

The voice was a low hiss. In the darkness, a little black lump of coal rolled to her feet. She reached down, picking it up to look closer at it. There were eyes on the coal. They stared at her fiercely, and yet they were full of love.

"Conquer."

The voice sounded like it was next to her ear. Yet she couldn't turn. She could only watch as the coal suddenly sprouted wings. It caught a cold fire, not burning her hand. Instead, the fire felt comforting, offering her a sense of power and strength in the despair that had followed her through her life. As it burned, it grew and grew until the little lump of coal was a mountain, those captivating eyes staring down at her.

"Above all, remain pure."

As she watched, the creature that had been looking down upon her began to change again. It grew long, the eyes becoming a dazzling orange, the whole body elongating until she was peering up at a serpent. It wrapped its immense coils around her, never taking its eyes from hers. It let out a loud hiss, its jaws opening wide, a bright, hot flame rushing down at her.

"Tamer!"

S're jerked awake, panting, staring up at the ceiling of the barn that she slept in. Small rays of dusty light filtered through the planks along the walls. It was early morning, the time that she had to wake up and get to work.

With a low groan, she slowly sat up, placing her hand to her temple, the dream she had just woken from leaving a strange sense of something unusual. Something was coming, something big, something reptilian.

She shook her head, figuring it was just the dream. She had had many dreams involving dragons her entire life. Her father had told her that they were just dreams, that they meant nothing, and that she had to stay away from the beasts. All her life she been sheltered from the massive animals, having never seen one other than the occasional Scouter high above taking messages back and forth.

Standing stiffly, she stretched a bit to loosen up from sleeping on the lumpy straw. She used the bucket of water by the door of the barn to wash her face and hands, her hand touching the vile metal collar around her neck. She had grown accustomed to it, but it was the constant reminder of her life after her father had died and orphaned her. She had shown up in this dirty little town 3 years ago, starving and lost. She had begged for food, but when no one took pity on her, she had stolen food from the tavern owner.

It had been the worse mistake of her life. She had been caught by a local guard and turned over to the owner. Jeboc was a heartless man, and when the guard had asked him what kind of punishment Jeboc thought she should suffer, he had decided he needed a slave to help around his establishment.

The two horses in the barn with her whinnied nervously. The sensation of something reptilian grew stronger. She could feel it in every fiber of her being, and it made her shudder.

There was a loud ruckus outside the barn. The beating of many wings, of snorting and growling, the creak of leather and membrane, and the many voices of people made S're jump. Shadows danced through the spaces between the planks, and a heavy creature landed on the ground.

S're rushed outside, looking up into the sky. Dragons were circling the town, low over the buildings, just above the trees. One of the beasts had landed in the clearing behind the barn.

It was immense, as tall as the two story tavern, its wings thrice its body length. The wing membrane stretched all the way to the base of the short, powerful tail. Stout, muscular legs held the animal's giant, scaly body up, its enormous chest flexing with the wing muscles as it folded its wings. The dragon was utterly black, not a single speck of color. The horns that grew from its head curved around a large bony crown that protected the back of the neck. Even the horns were black, which S're had heard meant it was a male.

"S're!"

S're jumped when Jeboc yelled at her. The ugly, little, fat man was glaring at her over his bent nose from the back door of the building, pointing inside. She bowed her head and hurried inside to get food ready. She didn't notice that the giant black dragon stared at her intently as she vanished through the door.

As she got around to making food, she heard the heavy booted feet of the soldier that had been on the black dragon enter the establishment. Jeboc greeted him nervously. She cocked her head, listening to what was being said. She could barely hear the soldier. His voice was unusually deep and guttural, a hint of the alluring accent of the Eastern Plains people. Their capitol city was the most advanced on the planet, S're had heard, and was a place where hundreds of alien species came to visit, thus the people who lived there had developed their own unique accent.

Risking a peek, S're glanced around the door to the kitchen. The soldier was taller than any man she had ever met in her life. He towered over everyone, Jeboc barely reaching his sternum, though he was even shorter than S're. The soldier wore the customary battle armor of a dragon rider. His jerkin was made of small scales taken from his dragon. His leather leggings were also black, as were his knee high boots, and elbow length leather gauntlets. Even the smooth, shiny metal armor plates that covered vulnerable areas of his body were black. Upon his jerkin was pinned an emblem. S're was surprised to realize that this was the commander of the talon. It was rare that a high ranking officer would put himself into danger with an unknown place.

"Get back to work, slave!"

S're gave a small yelp when a hand struck her against the back of her head. "Yes, ma'am," she muttered at the woman who had snuck up behind her.

Malissa was one of Jeboc's two nieces who helped him with the Dancing Pig Tavern. She kept her long curly brown hair in a tight braid down her back, her brown eyes always disapproving of S're. The only real act of kindness Malissa had ever offered S're was a contraceptive device so that S're wouldn't have children with whomever Jeboc sold her services to.

Jerassa, younger than her sister by 3 years, giggled at S're. "I don't blame you," she said quietly. "He looks really sexy. I hope the rest of him is as nice as his body."

S're sighed at the woman who was only a few years older than she was. Jerassa was not as cruel as her sister. Sometimes she was even pleasant. Both sisters were well known as the town sluts. They preferred the travelers who came through the town, few as they tended to be. S're knew those two were going to try and sleep with all the soldiers if they could. S're, however, hoped that she could stay out of sight and not attract any attention that would cause the soldiers to desire her instead of the sisters.

It didn't take long for the ground to shake as the massive dragons all landed one at a time in the large horse field behind the barn. Each one grunted and snorted, shaking themselves as their riders dismounted. They were tied to trees, or strange spikes that shot deep into the ground if no large tree was nearby.

Soldiers filed into the building, most of the locals having gathered to see the spectacle of the landing dragons. Most of the men hurried in, wanting to hear the manly, heroic tales of the soldiers.

Jeboc waddled into the kitchen, growling at S're. "Ye better be on yer best behavior, S're, or I'll be givin' ye a beltin' ye won't be forgettin' fer a long time! Understood?"

S're bowed her head in deference. "Yes, Master," she muttered softly, peeling the potatoes as quickly as she could.

Within an hour, the tavern was loud. The soldiers were ravenous, eating the food almost faster than S're could make it. They downed their ale with ease, telling the locals tales of their over exaggerated heroism in battle.

When at last the soldiers had begun to feel sated, S're was able to sit on the stool in the corner of the kitchen, nibbling on the various scraps from what she had made, which was all she was allowed to eat. Just as she was able to relax a moment, Jerassa and Malissa came into the kitchen, chattering back and forth.

"He just vanished," Jerassa pouted.

"He went up into the last room," Malissa replied. "Just give him a little time. He'll come out of there and then we can see if he's as cute as he sounds." She giggled, making S're roll her eyes.

That was when Malissa noticed her sitting. "And what do you think you're doing, slave?"

"Taking a break," S're mumbled. She had a back full of scars from her talking back to Malissa, but she always thought it was worth it just to show she wasn't afraid of the woman. As S're saw it, she had been made a slave by circumstance, but Malissa chose to be a whore. She had once stated that and had received a concussion for it.

"Oh, no you don't!" Malissa snarled at her. "You didn't take care of the horses this morning. Go get them water! Now!"

S're arched her brow, but decided she didn't feel like a beating today. Rising slowly, she headed out of the kitchen. She had to pass through a section of the main room of the tavern to get out the back door. Three soldiers just happened to be coming in from tending their dragons, noticing her as she attempted to sneak by them along the wall.

One of them caught her shoulder, holding her still. She bowed her head, looking down at their booted feet.

"Where you going in such a hurry, lovely?" the soldier holding her chuckled, turning her so they could see her.

"I, uh, I have to go fetch water, sir. I don't want to get in trouble." S're always hoped people would leave her alone, but it never seemed to work that way.

The soldiers grinned. "I think the water can wait," one of them stated.

"Yeah, I don't think you'll get in trouble for... entertaining us."

S're's skin crawled at their tone. There was no missing what they meant. Her instinct was to brush them off, fight back, but she knew better. Jeboc had beaten her into submission enough that she didn't strike out anymore.

"Derkal, Tafis, Kurt, I'm sure you all have far more important things to do." The stern, clear voice behind them made the three quickly turn and salute a tall, lean, older looking man. "For example, you three should get some sleep for pulling night shift."

The three glanced at each other with disdain in their eyes, but saluted their lieutenant, his emblem pinned to his gorgeous, glossy jerkin. As they filed up the stairs to take a nap, the lieutenant looked down at S're. His grey eyes softened, and he gave her a kind smile under his mustache.

"I'm sure you have things to tend to."

S're blinked a few times in surprise, then nodded to him. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir!"

She hurried out the door, closing it behind her. She let out a long sigh in relief.

She got the bucket from the barn and set it under the outdoor faucet, waiting for the bucket to fill.

She could hear the dragons on the other side of the barn. They grunted and groaned, growled, and muttered, and honked. Their wings creaked and rustled, their scales clicking. She could see one's nose peeking out from around the barn.

A powerful instinct took hold of S're, which she figured was just an intense curiosity. Glancing about the yard, seeing no one, she figured it wouldn't hurt to take a look at them. The dragons gave her a sense of calm and inspiration.

She turned off the water and snuck around the barn. The beasts were all tied down, several eyeing each other suspiciously, others dozing on their backs in the sun, still others staring at nothing.

A dark blue male slept but a few feet from her. His great breaths filled the air like a blacksmith's bellows. He lay on his back, soaking up the warm rays of the late summer sun.

Slowly, S're reached out carefully, wanting to know what they felt like.

She had gotten only inches from the snoozing dragon's head when its eye, golden and piercing, opened and constricted, looking straight at her. All the dragons turned in that moment to peer at her, though she didn't have the chance to notice them. She let out a whimper and backed away as the dragon rolled to its feet with a roar, standing over her. S're squeezed her eyes shut, figuring it was the end. Not that it really mattered if it was. She figured anything after death had to be better than this hell, so she didn't even bother trying to dodge the beast, which stared down at her more in curiosity than rage.

A strong hand grabbed her arm and jerked her out of the way. The dragon made a pitiful sound and stepped back as a deep male's voice began commanding it in a strange, elegant language.

It backed away and bumped into another dragon, who snarled and turned to snap at it. The blue male yelped and hunkered down, showing weakness. Immediately the whole talon was up in roars and they were all attempting to kill each other. The chains that held them to trees were snapped, and some of the trees themselves shattered. The noise was deafening as one large female pounced on the blue male.

With a mighty roar, a huge black beast lumbered into the brawl, grabbing the female by the back of the neck and tossing her like she was a toy. She went crashing through the trees, her cries of surprise turning to pain as her thrashing to gain her feet tore her wings.

S're, stunned by the power and brutality of the creatures, backed away before turning to run back into the tavern before anyone noticed that she had been the one to start the vicious brawl. Her only thought was not have Jeboc find out about this. Soldiers were running toward the battling beasts, even though the giant black dragon had already cowed all the others into noisy submission.

She had just reached the door when the same gauntleted hand that had saved her took a hold of her wrist and spun her around, slamming her against the wall of the tavern, slightly knocking the air out of her. She looked up in surprise and fear.

"Do you realize how much trouble you just caused, wench?" It was the commander! His black eyes were narrowed dangerously, causing S're to shudder, though she didn't meet his gaze.

Tears swelled in S're's eyes and she looked down at her bare feet. Jeboc gave her barely enough clothes to cover herself with and certainly no shoes. The commander gave an angry growl, his body shifting as if he meant to strike her.

"I-I'm sorry!" S're cried, cringing, squeezing her eyes shut, plastering herself to the wall in anticipation of a blow. Surely Jeboc would give her another concussion for this. She trembled as she felt the commander's hard body against her shift in obvious irritation.

"I... I just... I thought...." She really didn't know what to say. Nothing seemed like it would be a good enough excuse to save her.

"How could you think petting a War dragon would be a good idea?" the commander growled at her in that deep voice of his.

S're stuttered a bit, her voice a low mumble. "I just... they make me feel better, sir. Strong and free. I like to, um, I like to think of what I could have been...."

She was sure that sounded stupid to the commander, but when she glanced up at him, her blue eyes meeting his black eyes for the first time, she realized she could see straight through him, see in his eyes that he understood her, and that he wasn't angry with her at all.

How she saw that, she didn't know. It wasn't the expression on his face, which was stoic and stone-like. She couldn't help but notice how handsome he was. His face was stern and angular, with a straight nose and strong jaw, a pointed chin, his lips thin, straight black hair hanging to just the tips of his ears which arched up into small points. He reminded her of an elf- extremely handsome, but much taller than any elf she'd ever heard of. Those eerie black eyes of his had a strange, reflective light to them, his pupils glowing pale green when the light hit them.

As their eyes remained locked, S're realized she could see more of him, see a desperate loneliness in him, and despite his reckless and often aggressive behavior, he was a kind soul, that he pitied her position in society. She immediately felt an instinctual trust in him that she couldn't explain. It was a sense that there was no way he could harm her, even if he wanted to. She just _knew_that she could trust him, and no matter how she tried to rationalize it, it was an irrefutable knowledge to her, as much truth as the sky was above her head and that gravity kept her and everyone from floating off the planet.

Suddenly, the door flew open next to them, breaking their momentary contact. Jeboc stepped out, his large belly making it out the threshold first before they could see his ugly pocked face. He looked with worry at the dragons who had been making quite the racket as they were commanded back into submission by the soldiers using that strange language S're had heard was magical.

He then turned and noticed the commander towering over him, his powerful, lean body hidden by the dragonscale jerkin. He hadn't bothered removing his armor, so his broad shoulders were made broader by the spiked shoulder armor. His thighs and groin were protected by the same kind of smooth metal. Those black eyes of his could pierce the soul. Jeboc was immediately cowed again.

"Uh, g-g'day to ye again, Mister Roscrow! I-" he had to pause to gulp the lump out of his throat- "I hope the dragons aren't too rowdy. I would hate fer 'em to... crash into my barn and hurt themselves!" He peered around, making a show of vigilance when really he just wanted to look away from the commander.

"My dragon, Granger, has the talon under control. My soldiers can easily put them back in their places. You've no need to fear about your barn."

He stood straight and tall, with his perfect male body, his figure so demanding and authoritative that Jeboc found himself more afraid of the man than of his dragons. The large sword at his hip certainly didn't make him any less intimidating.

Taking a moment to get himself together, Jeboc looked about the courtyard, noticing the bucket of water still sitting under the faucet. "I don't mean to bother ye with my petty problems, good sir, but have ye seen my slave about?"

His eyes turned back to the commander in time to see S're step out from behind him, her head bowed. His eyes narrowed, but she didn't need to see that to know she was in trouble.

"Ye had something to do with those dragons, didn't ye, S're?" The anger in his voice made her tremble, letting out a small involuntary whimper.

"Quite on the contrary." Roscrow's strong voice broke the tension between them. "She alerted me to the fact that Tins had been harassing one of my smaller males until it looked like a fight might break out." He looked down at S're who was too shocked to say anything. She heard his voice take on a sardonic tone. "You could say she saved your barn."

Taken by complete surprise, S're could say nothing. Jeboc gave a sneer and waved his hand toward the barn. "Fer that, perhaps I'll let ye get off early tonight. Now get that water to the horses 'fore I change my mind!"

S're quickly fetched the heavy bucket and headed toward the barn where the horses were whinnying in fear. She glanced up at Roscrow as she passed him, still surprised that he would lie for her. He only lifted his brow slightly before turning at the sound of his name as a soldier came up to him to report about the situation with the dragons. The only part of the conversation she heard was "...no idea what set them off, sir...."

[Chapter 2]

While S're was grateful for the coolness that the night brought, it was hardly any quieter. The soldiers drank, ate, and sang, entertaining locals with greatly exaggerated tales of their own prowess.

Once, S're had caught Malissa and Jerassa down in the cellar, one of the younger soldiers with them. Sneering in disgust, S're returned to making food and cleaning dishes. She was thankful to be in the kitchen so as to avoid any more harassment from the soldiers.

Around midnight, when most of the soldiers had either gone to bed or were passed out at their tables, Jeboc finally told S're she could go to bed.

She didn't hesitate, not wanting to give him the chance to change his mind. She trudged out to the barn where she slept in the stall next to the door.

She risked a peek around the building to see the dragons. They murmured to one another quietly, making soft cooing sounds as a few huddled together.

S're's heart leapt when she felt a gust of hot air over her. She looked up slowly into the glowing eyes of a dragon. Her horns glittered white in the light from the tavern, so S're knew this one was female. Her scales were glossy and beautiful, reminding S're of the iridescent jerkin of the lieutenant.

She stared at the dragoness, frozen in fear and awe. The dragoness murmured to her softly, laying down slowly and tucking her hand-like paws under her immense chest. Once she had curled her tail against her body, S're thought she looked like a really big scaly cat.

The dragoness then turned her head, peering down at S're again with a lazy expression. Her short, equine-like muzzle came down to S're's level just as S're was thinking of petting her. Hesitantly, S're reached out, terrified she would lose a hand, but she couldn't help her curiosity.

The dragon's scales were warm and fuzzy, as if they were covered in peach fuzz. S're was surprised by how calm this dragon was, allowing her to pet it. She didn't know what to think at the moment.

A loud growl caused S're to jump. On the other side of the dragoness was the massive black dragon that belonged to the commander. S're could barely see him in the dark, but she saw the glowing orbs of his eyes peering down at her.

Afraid to start another fight like earlier, S're quickly retreated, rushing into the barn and curling up on her bed of old hay. She then smiled, realizing that she had just petted a dragon and that it had allowed her to pet it.

With a sigh of contentment, she was soon in a hazy doze, hearing the horses whinny quietly, still nervous about the dragons so near them. She could hear the dragons breathing, snorting at each other, letting out little clicks and weird low howls. In her sleep, S're could swear they were talking to her.

The barn was suddenly gone, all around her standing dragons. They stared down at her, huge, dignified, all of them glowing like they were divine.

"You see us. We are passed."

She knew that it was the dragons who spoke, all of them in a unified voice, though their mouths did not move.

"Power."

It was a whisper on the wind, a sound so slight she almost missed it. Looking around, S're could see a long tendril of pure light moving toward her. It snaked around her, around the circle of dragons, weaving in and out of their legs. It drew closer and closer to her, moving as a serpent. She felt no fear of this thing, no fear of the dragons around her.

Out of the ring of dragons, came a pure white dragoness, iridescently white, drawn by the serpent of light. Her eyes were the most piercing, unique blue S're had ever seen. She was truly the most beautiful dragon S're could have ever imagined.

"My children shall never harm you. They know you for who you are."

Her voice was angelic, clear, pleasant. Her mouth never moved as she spoke, but her eyes were full of love.

The serpent of light that slithered around the white dragoness moved toward S're, curling around her as well, tethering S're to this dragoness.

"Tamer."

It whispered again as it drew itself around her, wrapping around her throat. It suddenly tightened, strangling her, jerking her awake.

Her eyes fluttered open as she gasped for air, looking up at three dark faces. The smell of alcohol assaulted her nose, making her want to gag. It was the three dragonriders that had harassed her earlier in the day. They were very obviously drunk.

S're knew drunk men. She knew they often did things they would not normally when sober. These were soldiers, trained all their lives to kill. She had no doubt they would and could hurt her severely if she resisted.

"Ye gave us the slip earlier, gurl, but not this time!" The one whose strong, callused hand held her throat slurred his words in his drunkenness.

Squirming, S're gasped for air. Her struggles only rewarded her with his hand tightening further. She went limp when she heard a sword hiss out of its scabbard.

"Dat's right, gurl, we won't be long!" The one that stood with the sword grinned, the other two chuckling.

She felt them push her rag of a dress up over her thighs, their rough hands moving over her pale skin. She let out a whimper when she felt fingers pressing into her. The resulting sharp slap immediately quieted her. Closing her eyes, S're tried to retreat into her mind, thinking of the dragons in her dream, the warm serpent of light.

The dragons outside began hissing, growling, their tails thrashing. There was loud wing flapping, grunts and snarls, the dragons eyeing each other in hostility. The sound of their aggression only grew louder the longer the soldiers stayed in the barn with S're. She could hear them, prayed that the soldiers would leave her alone and check on the beasts but they seemed oblivious to the growing ruckus outside.

"At attention!"

The voice was so authoritative, even the dragons outside went suddenly silent. Jerking away, the soldiers turned, nearly toppling over in their stupor. They could just barely stand upright, though their perked genders managed it far better than their legs. They saluted as best they could while they tried to pull up their trousers, trying to stutter an apology and excuse, but that deep, accented voice cut them off as effectively as if their throats had been slit.

"You three are supposed to be on night guard. Instead, my slumber is disturbed by the dragons getting rowdy! I certainly don't know what you three were doing to each other, but I'd suggest getting your pants on, sobering up, and getting out there where you belong before rumors start spreading!"

With all the gracefulness of fish on land, the three attempted to salute, pull up their trousers, and leave all at the same time. As they passed, one falling over and scrambling back to his feet, Roscrow made note of each to punish in the morning.

Once they had left the barn, Roscrow turned his attention to the stall they had been in. S're huddled in the corner, none too sure of whether she'd been rescued or not. Slowly, Roscrow came toward her, standing over her. He held out a hand. Hesitantly, S're reached up and took it, letting him gently draw her to her feet. She avoided his eerily glowing gaze, not wanting to look into his eyes should she see into him again like she had earlier in the day. She quickly pulled the loose strap of her dress back onto her shoulder to prevent it from falling off her.

She felt the soothing warmth of his hand touch the side of her face where the soldier had struck her.

"Did they harm you?" His voice was a low rumble, calming, soft like a purr.

For just a second, S're tilted her head into his touch, that feeling of trust causing her to almost forget that she was a slave and he was a commander. Then she snapped back to reality, feeling chagrin so that she stuttered, "I-I'll be ok, sir."

Gently, he caressed her cheek with his thumb, causing her to look up at him. His eyes reflected the weak light.

He definitely wasn't all the way human, which wasn't all that uncommon. This world was a human colony, having been so for over a thousand generations, but it was not shut off from the other worlds. Trade ships came and went, all manner of aliens arriving and departing.

She could see someone who looked very similar to himself, perhaps his father, even more alien looking, less human. He was thinking of this man while there was also a feeling of confined lust toward her, that he could sense her staring into him, but that he had as much a clue about it as she did.

Then he smiled, shaking his head. "That's not what I asked," he purred smoothly again.

S're let out a breath, breaking the eye contact. "I, uh, I'm used to it, sir."

She felt his body draw closer, his eyes intent on her. "You deflect again."

"I... I don't want to get anyone in trouble," she mumbled, hoping he would leave it alone.

He made a sound of humor. "They're already in trouble." He then sighed, changing the subject. "I don't believe I ever caught your name."

She hesitated a moment. "It's S're, sir."

"S're. A lovely name for a lovely woman." She glanced up at him again, surprised. He only smiled charmingly at her. "I am Roscrow alt Szizander."

Then he stepped back, taking S're's hand and bowing down to place his lips on the back of her hand with infinite tenderness. He stood back up, letting her hand fall away carefully. "It is late. I leave you to your sleep. My men will not bother you again, S're. Sleep well."

With that, he bowed sweepingly before turning and leaving her standing there in the dark, dumbfounded. S're had never had anyone treat her like that.

Once he'd closed the door behind him, however, exhaustion swept over her. She sank back into her bed, feeling a strange sense of calm, his promise leaving her feeling just a little safer.

As she fell back to sleep, she hoped she'd have her dream again, as she had had all her life. Constantly, dreams of dragons that would come to her, speak to her, protect her. Always, a little black bundle of fire, a piece of coal that would grow and grow, sprouting wings and horns, fire engulfing it, eyes burning themselves into her. But the rest of her night was quiet and dreamless.

[Chapter 3]

"S're!" The angry voice of her master jerked her from blissful sleep. "If I come in there and find ye still sleeping, I swear I'll belt ye 'til ye beg me to feed ye to these dragons!"

Realizing she was supposed to be awake at least an hour ago, S're struggled to untangle herself from her blanket. Just as the door creaked open, S're managed to stagger to her feet as Jeboc came in.

He pointed toward the tavern. "Get yer ass in there and start cookin! Ye gotta earn yer keep if ye ever want to be free again!"

Rushing past him, S're just barely avoided a kick Jeboc aimed at her rump. She ran into the kitchen, getting herself cleaned up and started cooking. The last thing she wanted was to make Jeboc any angrier. Not to mention, fed soldiers tended to be mellower, which would also make her life a lot easier.

As she stirred some oatmeal, she heard Malissa and her sister come in, giggling amongst each other.

"Oh, I'm sure you can persuade him! The tall, dark, and silent types always play hard to get, but then they fall the hardest."

Malissa gave a bit of a shiver. "Yeah, but that stare he gives me, as if I don't even exist. Never met a man like that. But I'm sure between us we can break that ice cube!"

They both giggled again.

S're gave the quietest snort, thinking it was hidden by all the various other noises going on. But Malissa turned to her. S're didn't need to turn to know that the woman was scowling at her.

"And what do you have to say about it, eh, slave? I bet the commander notices you even less, being at the bottom of the food chain, and lacking in any womanly features. A man of his stature can choose from much better bred women."

S're kept her mouth shut on that. A scathing remark was on her tongue, but she knew better. She cracked an egg, watching the yolk sizzle on the skillet.

Sneering with a malicious laugh, Malissa taunted her further before turning with her sister and sweeping out of the kitchen. "What with your father being a drunken vagabond, who knows what kind of a whore your mother was!" The sisters giggled as they left.

Clenching her jaw, S're had to fight an urge to scream at the two. Malissa often teased her about the fact that her father had been a traveler before he had finally died when she was fifteen years old, leaving her to wander and beg for food for a year before her travels had brought her here. S're was sure it was from a broken heart from whatever past he had been running from. He had usually been drunk, but he had always ensured S're was safe and fed and had a place to sleep. If it were ever a choice between ale to calm the demons in his head or food for her, he'd suffer quietly. Despite his constant stupor, she wished he were still alive.

Taking a deep breath, S're calmed herself. Shaking her head, she had to smile. Leave it to the two to try and seduce anyone that caught their fancy. She was glad that they had finally found someone who frustrated them, though. It wasn't like those two were of any better breeding than she. And S're figured it wasn't about breeding, or even about social stature for the commander. Someone with his rank could chose from almost anyone, and just from what she already knew about him from the strange connection they seemed to have, she figured he had a set of qualities he looked for that was different from most other men. No wonder he looked right past those two sluts.

Using a ladle, S're poured out a bowl of steaming oatmeal. As she turned, she struck an immovable body. The ceramic bowl shattered on the ground, having slipped from her stunned fingers. The contents sloshed all over the floor, causing S're's heart to leap into her throat.

"I-I'm sorry!" she whimpered, quickly grabbing a rag to start cleaning off the commander's knee high black leather boots. They were perfectly polished, not a scuff on them. Now, though, they were covered in the sticky gruel.

Roscrow was about to say something when Malissa popped her head around the corner. "What'd you do this time, slave?"

She went quiet when she realized whom it was that stood in the kitchen. Roscrow hardly gave any indication that he acknowledged Malissa's presence, just continued to watch S're with great interest. Malissa looked down at her ample bosom, making sure her bodice was straightened and her blouse showed enough cleavage to just be one degree from totally lewd. She then stepped into the kitchen behind Roscrow, a lascivious hint to her voice.

"I'm so sorry for her clumsiness, sir. She's just a slave, you see...."

Her voice died in her throat. Those black eyes of his flicked to her, but only for a moment, as if to discover what the source of the unpleasant noise was before turning back to what he was finding a great desire in. Thinking of another strategy, Malissa tried to reach for another rag. "Here, I'll you show how to really clean some boots...."

"I think she can handle it." S're shivered. The cold steel of his voice bit into her very soul. "She dropped it, she can clean it. Your assistance is not desired."

Glancing up, she saw that his words were in no way directed at her. Instead, Malissa stood there, her face pale and eyes wide, staring into the reflective gaze of the commander. She barely managed to stammer something unintelligible before quickly retreating out of the kitchen.

When the commander turned his eyes back to S're, she was surprised to see a warmth in there. "Those two are very irritating."

The tiniest smile crossed S're's face at his tone. She quickly looked down so that he didn't notice. His gaze had a way of making her whole body tingle. She didn't know why or how he was able to get such a reaction out of her, but she figured it was best if she didn't let him see.

"I did not mean to startle you," the commander said softly, his voice silky and gentle. "I'd only wanted to make sure no one bothered you last night. I'd given my men orders not to harass the locals, but I guess they are just too eager to drown their sorrows in spirits and sex."

"S'RE!"

A quiet groan left S're. Of course Malissa would run off to tattle on her. She couldn't stand that the commander would give his attention to the slave girl. So she ran straight to Uncle Jeboc, who stormed into the kitchen, face red with anger and embarrassment. He glared at S're, who had finished cleaning the commander's boots and was trying to pick up the pieces of the bowl, scrubbing the floor hurriedly.

"I'm very sorry, sir. I promise she'll be punished fer...."

"I certainly don't think so." The sword Roscrow wore at his hip was dull compared to the blade of his tone. "It was my fault. I should not have startled her. As it were, I was coming in here to... seek her company."

Malissa flashed a glare at S're. S're could almost read her mind. What did a half starved, beaten slave girl have that she didn't? Honestly, S're had no idea. She kept cleaning, waiting for a kick from Jeboc, though it wouldn't come while the commander was there. He never beat her when there was company. Besides, he was looking about as browbeaten as she was at that moment.

"W-well, good sir, her company does come with a price...."

S're looked up to see why Jeboc had gone quiet. She noticed that Roscrow had a smile on his face. It was the most dreadful thing she'd ever seen. How a smile could promise death, she didn't know, but his most certainly did. Jeboc was so pale that he looked like he might faint from fear.

With a small motion to S're, indicating for her to stand, Roscrow mockingly tipped his head. "Your government thanks you for your sacrifice in times of war." It was as if he was finding a great amusement in the look on their faces, his voice so sardonic and trained.

In times of war, no one could ask for payment from a soldier. If they felt like paying out of generosity, they would, otherwise the peasant folk were just out of luck. In times of peace, the rules were different, but now Jeboc was only keeping his head on due to Roscrow's mercy. Jeboc knew that very well, but S're knew he had been hoping to trick a soldier or two out of their coins.

Without another word, the commander turned on his heel and strode out of the kitchen, S're close behind. Whatever he had planned for her would most certainly be better than what Jeboc would have done to her with Malissa hissing in his ear.

He stopped only once to oblige a cheer that went up from his soldiers in his honor as they had been relating a tale of his bravery in battle to some newcomers to the tavern. After a slight bow, he continued his way up the stairs to the room he had taken residence in. It was the furthest room with windows that overlooked the dragons resting in the clearing behind the barn.

Roscrow opened the door, standing aside to motion for S're to enter first. She went in, eyes flicking about in an old instinct that had saved her on many occasions. She had learned that vigilance was her friend. She noticed a heap of Roscrow's black metal armor in the corner as if he didn't care that it might get dented or scratched.

The sensation of Roscrow's eyes on her made her stop in the middle of the room. She jumped a bit when she heard the door latch and lock behind her. She could feel the heat of his body behind her, radiating out of his armor. He gently brushed past her, his voice much more calm and informal than she had heard it before.

"It really is unfortunate that such asses are allowed among our populace. I would have liked an excuse to put him in his place."

He proceeded to remove his sword belt as he spoke, carelessly tossing it over the back of a chair. S're had no doubt he wore it more for show than protection.

"It confuses me that some people don't get it when you obviously don't like them."

S're said nothing, shyly watching him from where she stood. He continued removing his armor, pulling the dragonscale jerkin over his head. It made an odd hissing sound that caused the hairs on S're's neck to stand on end. It was the sound a dragon made in warning, right when it would attack. Instinct told her that, not knowledge.

He laid the shirt of scales over the back of the chair. Under it he wore a thin, stretchy fabric that was designed to keep him dry and avoid chafing.

He then pulled his elbow length leather gloves off, tossing them on the chair as well. S're was surprised to see his powerful forearms covered in scars. He noticed her eyes looking at them almost immediately.

"Baby dragons," he said as he rubbed his forearms, "Adorable bundles of death. When they get playful, they give no thought to the fact that we don't have scales like them."

Curiosity gripped S're. She knew next to nothing about dragons, and yet she was drawn to them with an overwhelming instinct. The thought of baby dragons sparked her interest the most. Cautiously, she cleared her throat, speaking very quietly.

"How...?" She stopped when Roscrow looked at her. She averted her eyes. Jeboc never allowed her to speak out of turn.

"My dear, with me you can speak freely. 'How' what?" His voice was warm, that accent intoxicating. She could have sat and listened to him speak all day.

"How... big are they? The baby dragons?" Her voice remained hushed.

The smile that spread onto his face was nothing like what he had given Jeboc. It was soothing, made her feel safe. It left S're wondering how he could be so frigid one moment, then so warm the next. It had to have something to do with his heritage. She had to force down a smile imagining steam rising off him from his sudden emotional change.

Raising his hands, he indicated their size. "Not that big. Like one of those small retrieving dogs the hunters have. Maybe 25 kilos. They tend to impress on the first thing they see, kind of like a foal or a chicken. A lot of times, it's their mother. Trying to keep a mother dragon away from her hatchlings when she can hear them calling for her in the egg is nearly impossible. But we get paired to our dragons very soon after birth, almost before they even get all the egg fluid off. We train until we're about 15 years before getting our dragons. Since they don't live much past 200 years, we need to be a bit older than they are. But once we have our dragons, we are paired for life. Our very souls get intertwined in a short time."

"So... you've had your dragon since he was a baby?" S're felt a bit of jealousy. If she had such a beast at her command, Jeboc would be sorry!

"Granger was the largest of his brood," Roscrow explained, nodding idly as he looked out the window. "He was so big that the Masters thought to keep him unpaired for breeding purposes only. But he ended up choosing me. Three others and myself stood before the 5 eggs. I remember his mother, a magnificent white beast, so incredible, scales that shone like the white moon on a still lake. She had the most piercing blue eyes, like she knew more than any of the other dragons. My father told me she belonged to the last Tamer, so I was lucky to be chosen to receive one of her offspring, even though I had told my father I refused to be like him."

There was a momentary tone of bitterness in his voice, though he shrugged, glancing over at S're.

"But Granger was the first to hatch. He turned his head and looked straight at me. He paid no heed to his mother, to any others in the room. He came right at me from his egg, glared up at me, _challenged_my very existence with those penetrating eyes of his. I just stared back at him. I don't know how long we stood that way, but when he finally blinked, all the others had hatched. He then sat by my side and wouldn't leave it. When the Masters came to take him, not even commanding in the Ancient Tongue could make him leave me."

S're watched him, smiling. He was so lost in the memory, absently staring out the window at his magnificent beast. The brute lay in the clearing, wings fanning the air to stay cool as the heat rose steadily. His eyes were slits, always vigilant, always keeping an eye over his talon. Of course Roscrow needed no weapons. His dragon could take on all comers, his size and weight nearly twice that of any the others in the talon.

She suddenly became aware that Roscrow had turned his attention back to her. She'd been staring out the window as well, admiring all the dragons that loitered about. A playful grin split the commander's face as S're looked down. "I bet you'd like to touch one. You were trying to yesterday."

Remembering how angry he'd been about that, S're fidgeted nervously. "I, uh, I... well, one of them let me pet her...."

Roscrow rolled his eyes. "Was it Beaut? The big pretty one?"

S're nodded shyly.

He sighed. "Yeah, she's the friendliest dragon I've ever known. She loves all people and animals." Then Roscrow chuckled. "Once Kelvin left her off her lead, so she decided to go wandering through town and make friends with the locals. Took us a couple of hours to chase her down and get her back to where she belonged." Then he snickered. "Another time we caught her in a field with some cows. She was prodding them around with her nose as if she couldn't figure out why they were just standing there eating grass. She's my dragon's sister, which is appropriate, I suppose, considering that Kelvin is my adopted brother."

He then stood, walking over to the window and swinging it open. All it took was a short, sharp whistle. S're could feel the ground under her feet shake as his dragon trotted over since he was not tied like the others.

The brute had no trouble peering into the second story window. The dragon gave a mumble of greeting to his rider while Roscrow gave him a pat on the thick, bony eye ridge. He then indicated for S're to approach. Stunned, she walked over slowly, not quite sure about what was happening. Snatching S're's wrist gently, Roscrow held her hand out to Granger's cheek scales.

Even he was fuzzy like Beaut had been. S're ran her hand over his brow, peering into his massive, all knowing copper eye. As she looked into his eye, she felt like she was spiraling down into that depth, felt like this was right, it was the most natural thing in the world, like she'd petted a million dragons, stared into all their eyes and saw deeper into them than even their riders ever could. With each bellowing breath, she could feel herself filling with life, with an instinct to command, to lead, to draw all the dragons of the world to herself. The metallic copper of his eye seemed to swirl, turning into the piercing blue of the dragoness in her dream, an angelic voice whispering in her mind.

"My children know you...."

"Wonderful, aren't they?"

S're suddenly snapped out of her trance. She shyly drew her hand away. With just a brief gesture from his rider, Granger let out a groan and strode back to his spot, stopping to peer around as if searching for someone. Indeed, one of the dragons was missing, but no one had noticed the snapped chain, the two guards on duty sitting by the barn playing dice.

As Roscrow closed the window, he glanced at S're. "They have that velvet on their scales to help keep them warm high up in the atmosphere. It's not much use against the Spindles spitting their fire, but that's what the hard belly scales are for. The Scouter dragons are even furrier."

"Do War dragons fight with the Spindles?" S're asked.

Roscrow shrugged, turning to her. She suddenly felt smaller than usual under his steady, dominating gaze. "Rarely. The Wars know better. They would rather hunt a young Scouter than mess with any Spindle. Even right out of the egg, a Spindle can set a forest on fire."

"Oh," was all S're could think to say as Roscrow suddenly drew close to her. She only reached his chest, almost making her feel like a child.

She felt Roscrow's large hand cup the side of her face, his flesh radiating a calming warmth, unlike the heat of the drunken rages of her master. He slowly lifted her face to his, his lips touching hers with a tenderness that left her feeling like she was sinking into him. His hand rested comfortably on her hip, drawing her against his lean body.

His hand slipped behind her neck, holding her to his lips as he deepened the kiss, dominating her mouth with confident sensuality. S're's heart pounded in her chest, a sudden warmth spreading through her body from under her navel. The instinct, the knowledge that she could trust him completely kept her from pulling away or panicking as she often did when she knew she would be violated. But she knew, without doubt, that they were equals in this moment, that he would never harm her, never force her, that though he loved a submissive woman, he believed it was she who held the power, and that he would respect her if she didn't want this. She had seen that in his gaze, and it was an irrefutable instinct.

She didn't know how long they stood that way, but when the commander suddenly pulled away from the kiss, it left S're breathing hard, her whole body tingling. He walked past her, though he turned his head to speak to her. "I would appreciate it if you'd join me for my morning shower. I never can scrub my back very well." His voice was full of mischievous humor, though the commander side of him left a hint of an order to his voice, making S're feel like she had no choice in the matter.

As she followed him toward the shower room, she watched him bashfully, marveling at the olive tone of his skin, the lean muscles that he exposed as he pulled the tight black shirt off. His body was covered in scars, making it obvious he'd been in several battles. He was not afraid to wield his blade, and certainly not afraid to run that blade through another person, or to have it run through him.

"Why don't you start the water rather than stand there and stare at me?"

S're jumped, not realizing that he had stopped. He raised a brow at her, a good-natured smirk on his face. He moved his head to indicate for her to go ahead. She scurried away into the room, figuring he had need of relieving himself, as the toilet and shower were separate.

While the colonists of this world had originally abandoned all modern comforts, a few had made a comeback with all the aliens that came and went, electricity and plumbing being two. For that, S're was grateful. It wasn't often she got a hot shower, usually having to suffice with a bucket of cold water and a cloth in the barn, but when was she was able to acquire one she was thankful.

She turned the water on, testing the drizzle that came down from the thousands of little holes in the ceiling of the shower. The last time she had been in this shower, Malissa and Jerassa had gotten the bright idea to use her for their own twisted entertainment. It sent a shudder through her, thinking of how those two had ordered her to do some disgraceful things to both them and herself in front of them.

So lost in her thoughts, S're didn't notice Roscrow until he spun her around, pressing her up against the wall, trapping her with his body. She gasped as the cold wall touched her skin. Roscrow used that to kiss her, his tongue invading her mouth with the same gentle domination that left S're breathless and weak. His hands cupped her head, holding her helpless to his passion. She could feel he was hard and ready, his naked body pressed against her. Slowly, his hands caressed down along her neck, making her let out a soft moan, and further still until he gently slipped the straps that held up her dress over her shoulders and down her arms.

A shiver ran through her, now naked before him. Instinct and memory battled desperately, causing her to squirm. Her instincts told her to trust him, and yet 3 years of slavery made it difficult for her to surrender to the sensations.

Roscrow felt her tension, his hands having made their way to her hips to hold her to his body. He withdrew from his kiss, feathering tender little pecks to her ear. "I won't hurt you, S're. Just relax." His voice was like satin, dark and smooth, making her melt from within.

He gave her another sensual kiss before stepping back under the steaming drizzle, pulling her after him. He chuckled as she squeaked, reaching out to stabilize herself. He held her protectively, gently stroking her wet hair. After a few heart beats, she allowed herself to relax against his powerful body for a moment.

She didn't understand why she felt so safe with him. Why did she feel like she had known him all her life?

Roscrow's hand gently cupped her chin, drawing her face up to him, interrupting her thoughts. She saw in his dark gaze that he felt the same about her, as if he had known her all his life.

He touched his lips to hers briefly, his other hand wandering down her body. His expert fingers probed her intimately, causing her to sigh against his lips. Pressing her against the wall, he placed a hand above her head to steady himself as he bent over her, his mouth leaving hers, slowly moving along her jaw and around her ear before heading further down along her neck, giving her tender bites, testing her reactions to see how hard she enjoyed being bitten and where. All the while, his other hand probed her, finding the small bud of pleasure that had been so ignored all her life.

As S're moaned quietly to his touch, Roscrow suddenly leaned forward, slipping his hands around her thighs and lifting her up, planting her back firmly against the wall. She gasped, feeling intensely aroused. She had to wrap her arms around his neck to feel more stable but he didn't seem to mind at all as he kissed her again, deep and dominating, leaving her gasping for air and squirming in his hands.

When he at last lowered her onto his hard length, she let out a loud moan. He pierced her, driving deeply into her recesses, using his immense strength to bring her up again before letting her drop back down the full length of his shaft several times.

Without warning, S're's body tightened, a dark wave of rapture ripping through her. She gripped Roscrow with all four limbs, shivering with her sudden climax. She wanted to scream out, but instead she bit down on her lip, swallowing the sounds that attempted to escape, letting out only a choked little moan. Jeboc often threatened a severe beating if he ever heard her while with a "customer."

Roscrow slowed, chortling at her. "Someone's a little enthusiastic." He sounded almost sympathetic.

Gasping for air, S're felt a little ashamed of herself to be so wanton. She thought to apologize, but Roscrow's lips wouldn't allow that. He continued his powerful motion, causing wave after wave of intense sensations tingling through every part of her being. His body pressed tightly against hers, leaving her no room, nowhere to go but to submit to his driving desire. She panted and moaned, small sobs of pleasure leaving her lips, which he hungrily absorbed into his own mouth, even his tongue invading her.

At last, he drew away from the kiss, growling in her ear while his teeth nibbled at the cartilage when he felt her body tensing again.

"Scream for me, darlin'. No one will hear you in here." The vibration of his voice, heavy with his own lust, reverberated through her whole body.

Unable to hold back any longer, S're allowed the sounds that built up in her to escape, feeling her entire body shiver and gyrate on its own with her next climax. The sounds she made drove him on, his body moving to let out his own release.

S're didn't even realize she was disappointed that it was over, so lost in the sensation that she didn't know she had begged for more until she again felt his body vibrate with a chuckle, his voice hot against her ear. "Be careful what you wish for."

He wasn't anywhere near to finished with her, his low growl filling her ear with all kinds of sexy details, heightening her senses. When he wasn't talking, he was ravishing her mouth, or biting her neck just the way she liked it.

Stars of rapture exploded behind S're's tightly closed eyes, instinctual sounds tearing from her throat. Without meaning, her nails dug into Roscrow's flesh, causing him to give a deep groan of his own.

The steam that rose off them was not from the heat of the water. That had gone cool a while ago before they were finally done. The commander lay his forehead against S're's, both of them panting. S're could feel the warmth of him inside her and it made her squirm. Slowly, Roscrow let her down to her feet, holding her steady when she wobbled. They both stood quietly, attempting to clear their wits.

"Gee, all I wanted was for you to scrub my back and here you went and distracted me!" Roscrow snickered, grinning down at S're. She gave a coy giggle. In the past 3 years, she hadn't had a whole lot to laugh at.

She continued to lean her head against his chest as the cool water washed over them. She ran her hand over his smooth chest, totally hairless. Her fingers felt a scar, and she peered up at it, tracing it gently. It was a stab wound, directly where a human heart would be located.

Roscrow laid his large hand over hers, his deep voice thick though quiet. "A lot of people don't realize I'm a quarter Q'Ra. My heart is on the other side and a bit lower. It has saved me a few times."

S're smiled up at him. "So that's why you're so tall." She had once seen one of the elf cousins known as the Q'Ra. Often well over 3 meters tall, they were as close to physically perfect as a humanoid could get. They were almost godlike in their beauty.

He laughed. "Not as tall as my father. The human blood has rather stunted my growth. But it's why I have the glowing eyes, the strength to rival 5 men, and a lacking of hair. I can't even grow a beard." He scratched at his chin, mocking himself.

With that, they cleaned up, Roscrow stepping out of the shower to allow S're a bit of privacy, as if he knew it'd been a month since her last true shower. She scrubbed at her skin with an almost angry fervor, trying to get off any lingering sense of her master and any other man who had touched her without her wanting.

At last, as the water finally began to run cold, she turned it off and peeked around the curtain, wondering why Roscrow had been so quiet. A towel was suddenly dropped over her head. She giggled as he playfully ruffled her hair dry with the towel. He then pulled it from her head and wrapped it around her body, sweeping her off her feet. Squealing with laughter, S're offered minimal resistance. He smiled at her, a most endearing boyish grin. He then dropped her onto the bed. She let out a small shriek, almost drowned by his deep amusement.

A knock at the door startled them both. Roscrow's head tilted sideways, an irritated glint in his eyes. But he turned and headed for the door. S're drew the towel around herself a little tighter, praying it wasn't her master. Roscrow swung the door open, letting his broad shoulders relax when he saw it was his friend and lieutenant.

"Sorry to interrupt, sir, but I thought I should let you know your dragon, in his infinite vigilance, has discovered Fire Flower had broken her restraints and fled into the woods. I have several of the men out looking now. I was going to get Beaut saddled up to scout for her." The lieutenant didn't even bother to glance at S're as she sat on the bed.

Roscrow let out a thoughtful grumble. "She's probably laying her eggs. If you find her, be careful, Kelvin. Even the Ancient Tongue will have little effect on her if she's so desperate to protect her brood that she would break her bonds and slip away." Kelvin saluted to leave when Roscrow stopped him to add, "Do tell those two sluts that I'd like my breakfast in my room."

Kelvin grinned good-naturedly under his mustache. "You'd prefer their company?" His voice mocked his commander, indication of the deep friendship they had.

Grunting with ill temper of thinking of them, Roscrow growled. "I'd prefer them to that pig of a barkeep."

Kelvin's voice lowered so S're almost could not hear him. "Beaut doesn't like him either. She's pretty hungry...."

Roscrow glared at his lieutenant. "You don't dare."

Kelvin shrugged, walking away from the conversation, but the barely contained smirk on his face told Roscrow he was only trying to pull strings. Shaking his head, Roscrow closed the door, turning back to S're.

"Guess Fire Flower is laying her eggs. It's very late for a War dragon but a bit early for a Spindle." He strode over to the bed. She watched him as he sat on the edge of the bed, hunched over with his elbows on his knees. She drew a bit closer to him.

A dark marking on his neck caught her attention. "Um... what's that on your neck?" For a moment she cursed herself for being too bold, but Roscrow turned to look at her quizzically.

Touching the back of his neck, he smiled. "Oh, you mean my family crest." He turned to show it to her better. It was a tattoo in dark red ink that almost blended with his darker colored skin. Within a circle, a stylized War dragon sat proudly on its haunches, in one paw holding a sword, the other resting on a long shield. The shield had an eye on it. The dragon's mouth hung open, exposing its vicious teeth.

"It's the crest of the alt Szizander family line," he explained. "Legend has it we were the Guardians, the sworn and sacred army of the original Dragon Tamers, magically bound to protect them and do them no harm. We were in the service of the Tamers long before the Masters began taking over the government. Throughout our history, we've pledged our unwavering loyalty to our lords, the Tamers. We would fight beside them in battle, give our lives for them. We advised them, spied for them, went to any lengths to ensure their security. Any who married into the Szizander line, who took the name, also took the oath to his or her personal Tamer family. And then all the Tamers began to die out, over the course of the last 300 years, most of our bloodline dying out with them. Soon, the uld Morthar family was wiped out, the last of the Tamers to go. My mother gave her life for the last of them. But it was to no avail." He sounded quite bitter, his jaw clenching for a moment.

"About 20 years later, he and his family simply vanished. His dragon, Granger's mother, was poisoned, which led everyone to think he'd gone mad. After my mother died, though, I blamed the Tamer for her death and told my father I would never pledge my life, so I never actually met him in person. Though I did happen to meet his wife in passing while with my father, but I really didn't care to pay attention to her, though as I recall she was pregnant.

"But, I wanted nothing at all to do with the Tamers so I moved away and lived in Daksing, where I had been born, for 23 years before I was forced back into service after the last Tamer vanished. Once you have a War dragon, your life belongs to the military. The only way to get out of it is to give up your dragon, which is basically a death sentence."

S're gently touched his crest. "I have one."

Roscrow turned to look at her in surprise. Turning so her back was to him, she let the towel slide off. At the very lowest of her back was a black tattoo unlike any Roscrow had seen. Unlike most crests, it wasn't a simple circle that created the border. Instead, it was a dozen small dragons, each holding the tail of the one before it in its mouth. Within the circle of dragons, there was a single solid black dragon, wings spread in flight, tail whipping, uncontained by the border. In one outstretched paw was a deadly spear gun, the weapons used against dragons in battle. In the other was a shield. But what really made the crest strange was the black flame that spewed from the dragon's open maw. It ran up her spine a short way. Around the inside of the border were markings, an ancient and mostly dead language.

Roscrow reached out and traced the crest with his finger, making S're shiver. She looked back at him. "Do you know it?"

"No." He continued to stare at it. "I've never seen this kind before. You've had this all your life?"

Nodding, S're turned to look at him. "I often wonder about it. I don't know what the words mean."

"It's in the Ancient Tongue. It means 'Protect, Conquer, and Remain Pure.' Never seen anything like it. I don't know what family it's from. It may not even be from our side. Who knows, you might be a refugee from the Sadgos'Lak nation. Maybe even from across the sea. I know their crests tend to look different from ours." He then reached out and caressed her cheek affectionately.

She thought about it. "I suppose. I don't remember a lot. I just know my father made a big deal of never dealing with the army. But he was always drunk. He died when I was fifteen. I think it was from the pain he was in from his past. I don't even know my last name. It was like he made a point of never letting me find out. I don't remember my mother. He said she died not long after I was born. Some nights, he was so drunk he'd start screaming and swinging at imaginary things. I would hide away. But the few times he was sober, he would tell me that I had to stay hidden, I couldn't ever show anyone my crest. But that seems kind of moot now. I mean, you don't even know it."

A knock at the door interrupted Roscrow's train of thought. He stood again, heading for the door. S're quickly covered herself with the blankets on the bed. When he opened the door, she could tell by how his muscles tensed that he was not pleased by what he saw.

"Oh, why hello, Commander, sir. I hope we aren't interrupting anything?" S're gave an inward groan, Malissa's voice carrying into the room easily enough.

Roscrow took a step back, pointing to the table in the room. "Please put the food there." His voice was hard and sharp, his irritation made evident.

Malissa and Jerassa quickly entered, both glaring at S're as they put the platters of food on the table. Jerassa then turned to Roscrow, her eyes hungrily following the lines of his powerful muscles to where they vanished under the towel he still wore wrapped around his waist. "You know, sir," she said in a hushed, seductive tone, "there's so much more we can offer you than that slave...."

Roscrow's black eyes narrowed. It stopped both women in their tracks. He pointed toward the door. "If you two do not leave, I shall have my soldiers remove you. They are not known for their courtesy or tenderness." Then, as a sadistic side note, he added, "And I hear the dragons are hungry."

In fear, they both rushed out the door, all but tripping over each other. Roscrow slammed the door behind them, a deep laugh breaking the tension. "Hopefully that will be the end of their irking me!"

Returning to the bed, Roscrow dragged the table over to them with hardly any effort. He poured a glass of juice for both of them. He offered S're a sweet roll. Despite the fact that she knew she wasn't supposed to, she took the food with gratitude. It had been a very long time since she'd had a good meal.

A thought crept into S're's mind, something Roscrow had said about the dragons. "Um, so, this dragon that's missing, you said she was a Spindle?"

Roscrow shrugged. "She's a halfling. The Masters are trying to create the 'perfect dragon.' One that can be strong enough to battle physically as well as breathe fire and not get burned. Fire Flower can breathe fire all right, but she's very fragile. She hangs back in aerial combat and generally just burns any ground troops. The Masters decided to breed her with another War dragon to see if they could toughen up the offspring. Out of all their experiments, she is only one of maybe 6 such dragons, and only a handful of the offspring survive to hatch, much less to adulthood. Of those that manage, none breathe fire. It's a waste of time, in my opinion."

An uproar of the dragons made Roscrow curse. He stood and peered out the window. "Oh good, they found Fire Flower. She's not happy about us moving her eggs." He shrugged and came back to sit beside S're.

"Aren't you going to go make sure no one gets hurt?" Again she hoped she wasn't too bold. But he just shrugged.

"They can handle it. Besides, I'm not much of a commander if I don't eat. Q'Ra don't store much energy for later, sadly. And I don't benefit from breathing down the necks of my men. I trust them to be careful." He continued to eat.

"Is... is Granger the father?" S're looked up at Roscrow with curiosity.

The commander smiled. "One of many broods he's sired. I often tell him he's a lucky bastard." Roscrow chuckled to himself.

Again, she could see the loneliness in his eyes. She turned her eyes away, still unnerved by how she could see into him. She was afraid to say anything, lest he think she was somehow using magic on him.

"When will the eggs hatch?" S're nibbled on another sweet roll, more interested in the dragons than the food.

"I'm not sure," he admitted, shrugging. "For Spindles, they keep their eggs inside their bodies for almost a year, then the eggs hatch in a couple of days fully formed, miniatures of their adult selves. But War Dragons only carry the eggs around for 2 months, then lay them and keep them safe for nearly 6 months. When they hatch, they are able to hunt small prey that their mothers bring to the nest alive, like bingku and razja, but not able to fly or really fend for themselves for about 5 months. So the eggs could hatch in a few days, or a few months. No one knows. When cross breeding, there're so many variables." Then Roscrow stood, taking a bite of an apple. "One thing always remains the same, though: when they hatch, all baby dragons are starving."

He started to pull his clothing on, readying himself to go down and check on all the commotion. "You stay here. I'll be back in a little while. Duty calls." He leaned over and gave S're a passionate kiss, long and deep and possessive, a promise for what he had planned for the evening. It left her squirming, wishing he didn't have to leave.

Once he was out the door, she felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her. She hadn't gotten much sleep during the night. Maybe if she just took a nap while he was gone, she'd be rested enough for whatever he intended for them to do in the evening.

[Chapter 4]

Roscrow had watched his men move the eggs one by one back to the tavern. They placed them with infinite care into a large, padded basket. With much effort, Fire Flower's rider was able to keep her calm enough that they could move all the eggs. She continued to hiss and fret.

After a quick inspection of the eggs, all of which were a shiny platinum color, Roscrow came over to Granger. The brute lowered his head, accepting his rider's touch with a mutter of greeting. Roscrow scratched his dragon right under his eyelid where the thick scales turned to skin. Granger's eye closed, a small drop of spittle forming at the corner of his mouth as he purred in pleasure.

"Four eggs with this batch, eh, buddy? You keep going like this and soon half the army will be made up of your offspring." Roscrow smiled when Granger murmured to him. War dragons were known to be the most vocal with hundreds of unique sounds. Many times, Roscrow could almost swear he heard Granger talk.

"Living the high life, sir?"

Roscrow turned to look up at Kelvin atop his gorgeous dragon, a massive female he had named Beaut. She well deserved the name, her scales the most uniquely iridescent with constantly shifting colors of blue, green, purple, and the occasional pink if the light hit her just right. Her immense gleaming ivory horns curved gracefully around her spiked crown, giving her a regal appearance. There were times that Roscrow felt a bit jealous, but it never lasted long enough to make a full thought in his head.

As the magnificent creature strode over to the commander, she mumbled to Granger. He offered a grunt of greeting, accepting an affectionate nuzzle from his sister. Out of the whole talon, she was the only one who nearly rivaled him in size.

As Roscrow came over to take her reins, Kelvin spoke a word in the Ancient Tongue. Without hesitation, Beaut raised her leg, gently lowering her rider to the ground.

"Ah, you know me too well, my old friend. I just can't stand the brutality one man can inflict upon another for no damn reason!" He jerked sharply at a strap of Beaut's saddle.

The dragon turned her large head to look at him with curiosity. Normally he was a lot calmer. She let out a soothing trill sound that a mother dragon uses to calm her offspring. Having mothered three broods, she knew all the tricks of the trade. Without meaning to, Roscrow smiled up at Beaut. Her eyes narrowed in satisfaction, considering her job done.

Kelvin chuckled at his dragon. "I'm with you on that one, Roscrow. I would be careful, though, sir. It's not your place to go around saving damsels in distress." Kelvin heaved the heavy saddle off his dragon, handing it off to one of the other soldiers to put it in the barn.

Shaking herself, Beaut hunkered down next to Kelvin, stuffing her hand-like paws under her chest and curling her thick short tail around her haunches, looking for all the world like a giant, scaly, content cat. While Kelvin wasn't watching, she lowered her head, affectionately mouthing the top of her rider's head. Kelvin immediately started batting at her, but it was too late to save his hair. She looked off into the distance, the most amused and pleased look on her face.

"I swear! One of these days I'll break you of that habit, you damn lizard!" Kelvin swore at his dragon, trying to smooth his hair down.

Roscrow laughed heartily. "She's been doing that to you for the last 60 some years, I highly doubt you'll ever break her of it."

Growling, Kelvin couldn't help but grin. "I suppose so."

Roscrow then let out a sigh as they headed over to look at the eggs. "There's just... something about her."

"Oh?" Kelvin peered closely at his friend. "You sure it's not just a knightly desire?"

Roscrow grunted in humor. "No, not even that. It's like I'm drawn to her, like she's somehow familiar. I can't explain it. It's like she can look right through me...." He quickly changed the subject when Kelvin raised his brow skeptically. "You know, she has a dragonrider's crest. I've never seen it before. I wonder what family she's from."

"She doesn't know?" Kelvin asked incredulously.

"She says her father would never let her learn her last name," he said as he shook his head. "Said he told her it was important that no one see her family crest. It makes me wonder if perhaps he was a traitor to his nation and fled." Roscrow shrugged. "But whatever the reason, her father's burden is not her own. Not in my eyes." He let out a heavy breath. "I just think it's sick that slavery is even acceptable. Whatever happened to the old days my father always speaks of?"

"Those days have died," Kelvin replied bitterly. "Ever since the Tamers went into decline and the Dragon Masters began digging their greedy talons into the land and its people. If it wasn't for you and the graciousness of your father, even I would have succumbed to their newfound cruelties when they wanted to take Beaut from me just because my parents were farmers." He gave Roscrow a fond pat on the back.

"Don't you think four eggs is kind of odd for a War dragon?" Kelvin changed the subject abruptly.

Roscrow shrugged. "Who knows? Being a halfling, it may be natural. Might want to scout the area, see if you missed one, but I doubt it." He obviously wasn't too worried about the thought of losing an egg. He turned away, walking over to the street the tavern was on.

The town was tiny, only a few dirt streets and a few dozen houses with a small market. The west side of the town had several acres of farms but nothing too big. He watched as a few of his soldiers headed off into the woods to go hunting, just about the only entertainment here, not to mention the dragons needed feeding.

"I never will understand why the Generals sent us here to wait for further instructions." Kelvin peered around as the town folk went about their business. A couple of women hushed their children, dragging them away quickly in fear of annoying the soldiers.

"Something about staying low profile," Roscrow replied with a shrug. "Since we're so close to the border to Mardarow they think the Sadgos'Lak Scouters won't risk any further conflicts by crossing their border. For now, Mardarow refuses to get involved, but they won't hesitate to shoot down a Scouter from their neighbors."

He gave a sigh. "Get Fire Flower and Blask saddled up. We have to send her back to Academy. Even if one egg is missing, I doubt they'll care much. All other breeding attempts have failed with others like her. Tell Jander and Mok to get their things. Mok will be very happy to see his family again." There was a twinge of sorrow and longing in the commander's voice.

Kelvin drew closer to him. "I've known you since I was 10 years old, when I stumbled into that nest chamber without anyone knowing and Beaut hatched right in front of me. Already I'm starting to look like an old man. You, you've hardly changed since you were 16. That Q'Ra blood of yours will keep you young for many more years than the rest of us. You've got plenty of time to make a family of your own, sir."

Roscrow had to smile at his friend's attempt to console him. "I suppose you're right. My father likes to bring up the fact that he's lived over 900 years and only had two children. That's the part that scares me. But we'll see how things turn out when this war is over."

"I doubt it'll be over any time soon," Kelvin sighed. "The Head Master seems very adamant on continuing the war with Sadgos'Lak, not even bothering to make any attempts at trying to make a truce. I think only if a Tamer showed up somehow, maybe then it'll be over in my lifetime, at least."

Roscrow let out a low growl, not liking that idea much.

Kelvin rolled his eyes. "At least when they were around, wars were brief and there were far fewer causalities. Not even when the Tamers would get mad at each other did they throw their armies so haphazardly about, wasting resources like the Masters have been doing. They throw us around like we're toys. Something will have to give, though. Eventually."

"I hope you're right, Kelvin," Roscrow responded quietly. "I hope it gives before the war turns inward."

Kelvin glanced at his friend with a raised brow, but said nothing as Roscrow turned back to the tavern, heading for the door. Kelvin's teasing chuckle made him stop and turn to glare at his lieutenant.

"All too eager to go back to your bed warmer, eh, commander?"

"You should try it sometime, Kelvin," Roscrow shot back. "Far more entertaining than sleeping alone."

Kelvin grinned at him. "Beaut's the only woman I need in my life. My type is quite rare to find."

Roscrow snickered before he entered the tavern and headed up the stairs, though he made a point to glance around, hoping for another chance to put Jeboc in his place. However, the pig was nowhere to be seen, obviously keeping himself well hidden.

Slipping into the room quietly, he found S're fast asleep on the bed. He pulled off his armor and clothing with barely a sound, sliding silently under the sheets. He smiled down at her sleeping form. She lay on her side, her arms wrapped tightly around a pillow, her legs pulled up as close to her chest as she could get.

With curiosity, Roscrow pulled the sheets away from her naked body, peering a little more closely at her crest. It seemed almost familiar, like he had seen it once so many years ago. It frustrated him that he couldn't place it.

With a soft moan, S're's body shifted slightly in slumber. Roscrow leaned over and feathered his lips along her shoulder. She gave another soft moan, her body unfurling. She drowsily opened her eyes and looked up at the commander. He smiled mischievously. "There'll be plenty of time for slumber later, my dear...."

[Chapter 5]

The days went by all too quickly. Before they knew it, nearly a week had passed. The days were hot, the evenings warm. Each day, Roscrow forced himself to leave his room, much less the bed. In order to avoid the sisters and the barkeep, Roscrow brought the food up to his room for S're. With him, she had already gained some weight.

Her fascination with the dragons fueled most of their conversations, history and military life being the subject of most others. S're was a quick study, soaking up the information as fast as it could leave his mouth. She was also well versed in ways of pleasuring a man, much to Roscrow's enjoyment.

He told her much of his life in Daksing, of the many aliens he had met, and how he had been the head of the city guards. Because of his distinguished military career and the influence of his father, who was the head general, Kelvin and he had been able to secure comfortable lives in the technologically advanced city.

In return, S're told him of her young life and the few aliens she had seen, though her stories were nowhere near as entertaining or informational. However, her life had forced her to become wiser than her years, teaching her street smarts and her intelligence impressed him greatly.

At first, Roscrow's playfulness surprised S're, and it almost seemed to surprise him. With others, he was stern and short, nothing like the warm and childlike interior that he generally only allowed Kelvin to see. It was infectious, rubbing off on S're.

Every morning he told her to join him in the shower to scrub his back. It never turned out that way. After three mornings of this, he went into the bathing room and called to her to assist him in scrubbing his back.

She stood at the door, her arms crossed, staring at him from under her long, dark lashes. "No. You can scrub it yourself."

Roscrow's brow shot up in surprise, then he bared his teeth in a nefarious grin, letting out a playful growl as he took a step toward her. She gave a squeal of laughter and slammed the door shut in front of him and hid behind the bed, unable to escape the tickle torture he unleashed upon her.

The next day, Roscrow was busy dealing with a dispute between one of his soldiers and a local. When he came back, he was rubbing his temple. He let out a groan and fell on the bed with his uniform on.

"I hate dealing with fools," he growled, his mood sour.

"Are you hungry?" S're asked softly, concerned for him.

"Starving," Roscrow muttered.

"Do you want me to get food?"

Roscrow peered up at her with one eye. "If that pig lays a hand on you, I'll take it off, and as much as that would please me, it might be an issue for my superiors."

S're smiled, slipping from the bed, pulling on her clothes. "I think he knows, or he would have come up to get me by now."

With that, she didn't give him the chance to tell her otherwise and hurried out the door. She went down into the kitchen, glancing about, a little worried that Jeboc would indeed try to give her a beating for the simple sake of her being in service to the commander for so many days.

Because it was already evening, the tavern was quieter, most of the locals having gone home and only a couple of soldiers still up.

While S're threw together a generous meal, the hairs along her neck stood on edge, her powerful instincts telling her that someone undesirable was behind her. When she turned, she let out a sigh.

"So," Jerassa started. "What's he like?"

S're shrugged. "Like a man."

"Oh, don't give me that!" Jerassa snorted. "I want to know the juicy details."

S're glanced around, grabbing a ripe fruit and tossing it at Jerassa. "That juicy enough?"

Jerassa stared at her for a moment in shock. She didn't know what to say, so S're took the opportunity to heft the heavy tray and headed out of the kitchen, going back upstairs.

When she got in, Roscrow was mostly undressed, polishing his armor. He glanced up at her. "I was starting to get worried. Put it on the table." His voice had the sharp bite of an order though he likely hadn't meant for it to be.

Instead, S're placed the tray on the foot of the bed.

"I said the table," he teased, raising his brow at her.

S're shrugged. "The bed was closer," she muttered defiantly.

It made him laugh. "Alright, dinner in bed. I can live with that."

A couple more days passed, finding ways to entertain one another. Lying in bed on his back, Roscrow held S're close, her head against his shoulder. The warm morning sun shone in on them, pleasant on their naked skin. His hand moved along S're's smooth skin, feeling her stir awake. He never made her wake up at any particular time, knowing that once he was gone, she would be sleep deprived yet again.

Thoughts of his leaving plagued him, knowing what would happen to S're once he did. But Kelvin's words were true. In this time of war, he had neither ability nor any right to free her. He could buy her from Jeboc and let her go free, but where would that leave her? She'd have nothing, be left on her own yet again, and he couldn't leave his post to take her to his home. For now, no matter how much it hurt him to think of it, here was the best place for her.

"Good morning," S're spoke softly, smiling at him.

"Ah, all mornings are good with you." Roscrow gave her a gentle squeeze.

A shadow blocked the sun in their window briefly. The dragons honked and roared, snarling and making an awful ruckus. Startled, Roscrow hurried out of bed, tossing on his clothing as fast as he could. He pulled his boots on just as he opened the door, glancing back at S're to make sure she stayed before bounding down the stairs.

Reaching the bottom, he could feel his heart sink into his feet. Only one type of dragon had wings larger than Granger's.

The Scouter dragon was a mottled brown color, its belly and under wing a creme. Its body was designed for flight and nothing else. Small, sharp head, very small horns, short neck, streamlined body, with very short legs. Its body was no bigger than a horse, but its wings rivaled any of the War dragons in his talon.

As it folded those immense wings, its short tail lashed, the wing membrane reaching nearly to the tip. It shook its body with a nervous snort as its rider dismounted. Instinctively, it peered around, making sure it wasn't about to be attacked by a War dragon. For eons the War dragons had hunted the Scouters, and even through all the selective breeding, they had yet to remove the instinctual hatred the two species had for each other. Whatever the reason had been for the two species to have such hatred of each other had been lost to time and the short memories of humans, despite their greatly extended lifespans.

The rider stepped into the tavern. All the soldiers had gone silent. The messenger removed his oxygen mask and thick helm. He looked battle hardened, carrying a sense about him that a veteran soldier would even though he was obviously very young. Those who received Scouters were trained very differently from those who received a War dragon. They were often the bearers of bad news, so very often were jaded at a young age.

"Commander Roscrow?" The man called out, his green eyes peering around at the soldiers.

"Here." Roscrow stepped forward.

The messenger stood at attention, saluting him, his voice terse and trained. "Sergeant Jerred mac Brian, 6th Scouter talon. Orders, sir, from the Masters." He pulled out a scroll case from his belt, offering it out to the commander.

Slowly, reluctantly, Roscrow reached out, taking the dreaded scroll case from the messenger. He popped the seal and pulled out the parchment. Unrolling it with agony, he took a deep breath before reading it.

He abruptly rolled the scroll back up and shoved it back into the case. With pursed lips, he handed the case back to the messenger. "Thank you, sir. You are dismissed." Saluting him again, the young man turned, pulling on his helm and mask. Mounting his dragon, they left in a flurry of dust and small cyclones.

Roscrow stood in the middle of the room, all his mens eyes on him. He knew they held their breaths. They wanted to go home. They'd been fighting for 2 years straight. Some had not seen their families in 11 months. They were supposed to rotate home, let another fresher talon go out and fight in their place. Turning, Roscrow looked upon his men.

"We go to aide our sister nation, Nutherlund." He could feel the anger and disappointment in the air; it stifled him. Somehow, as he always managed, he kept his voice steady and demanding. "We leave in the morn. Ready your dragons and sleep well tonight."

Turning away, Roscrow returned upstairs as everyone stood to get ready to leave. He stopped at the door to his room, taking a deep breath to calm himself. Opening the door, he found her sitting on the bed, reading his battle diary. He had allowed her to read it, and she did when he was drawn away from her by his duties.

She looked up at him as he came in. The expression on his face told her everything she needed to know. With a sigh, she turned back to the book, but now without interest.

Roscrow sat on the bed, his hand reaching out to cradle S're's face. She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes. She had hoped, prayed even, that the war would be over before he had to leave. But she knew such wishes could not be fulfilled.

In the absence of the Tamers, the nations had fallen into quarrel, the larger ones trying to absorb the smaller ones around them. Already they were down to only 9 from the 23 nations at the high point of the Tamers' time. The last few- the largest of them- were now locked in desperate stalemate, throwing their armies at each other with almost reckless abandon, uncaring of how many they slaughtered. As Roscrow had said, the Dragon Masters did not fight and so they did not care.

"You have to go." S're could feel a tear run down her cheek. Tenderly, Roscrow wiped it away with his thumb.

"I've survived the war this long, love, I'm certain I can survive the rest." He smiled at her, trying to reassure her. But when she looked away, he drew her against him. "There's nothing I can do about your situation right now, my dear. But when I get rotated out, I promise I'll come back for you. You have my word. I'll come back, take you to Academy, and we'll find out about your crest. Imagine if you're from a lost family of Dragon Masters. You can always come back and turn that pig into your own slave!" He smiled at her, hoping to cheer her up.

She smiled, clinging to him, breathing in his scent. "When do you have to leave?"

"Not until tomorrow morning." Again he thought to cheer her up. "I wonder what we can do between now and then?"

Squirming, S're giggled. "Oh, I don't know. I'm sure you can think up something," she stated coquettishly.

"It really doesn't take a lot of thought to get it up..." he purred.

It took no more than a few heartbeats for the clothing to come off. Pushing her to the bed with his lips, he moved over her, his hands caressing all of her, every part of her body, memorizing it.

His lips moved from hers, his teeth nipping at her flesh, his kisses feathering all of her. Every sound she made urged him on, urged him lower, down to her feet where he kissed her arches with great tenderness, slowly continuing back up, following the line of her legs, further up still to the apex where her legs met. Her hands gripped the sheets, her back arching when she felt the heat of his tongue. The sensation was the most exquisite thing she'd ever felt, leaving her breathless.

Even when he was at last done, his mouth moving over the rest of her body, each touch like a sliver of Heaven, she could barely talk, panting and moaning just as he had intended.

When he swept into her, time seemed to cease, no sorrowful goodbyes soon to come, no painful, hidden past, only each perfect moment that was gone as soon as the next came to take its place.

By the time the rusty moon spilt its bloody rays through the curtains, the two had exhausted themselves, tangled in each others arms. Rarely did Roscrow allow himself into such a deep state of oblivion, but somehow he felt it was right. Like all the Universe had aligned itself to this moment.

In the darkness of his slumber, a serpent slithered around him, orange eyes burning themselves into his very soul. He was unable to move as the serpent twisted around him until it had ensnared him, left him breathless.

"Guardian's vow."

He could hear the hiss, not in his mind, but in his soul. The serpent grew longer, more dragonlike, those orange eyes piercing him with more effect than any sword. In the darkness he saw a light behind the serpent, it grew as it came toward him, a person who shined, a person on a dragon holding high a speargun, the purest white light he had ever seen.

"Vow to this. Your life to this."

The serpent twisted around him tighter, its head coming to block his view of the light, the hissing growing louder as it opened its mouth, lunging at him.

"Guardian!"

His eyes snapped open. He panted for a moment, not sure what he had just dreamed. He looked down at S're, her arms still wrapped tightly around him. He smiled, kissing her forehead. He wished he could stay, but the sun demanded his attention.

Slipping from the bed, he got his clothes and armor on, packing his few belongings into his satchel. As he sat on the edge of the bed to pull on his boots, he heard S're stir behind him. She turned to him, looking up at him drowsily. When he turned to her, she did not meet his gaze.

"See me off?" he asked softly.

S're took a deep breath, then slipped from the bed. "Sure. I'll have to face Jeboc sometime."

Roscrow growled a little deep in his chest as he slung his satchel over his shoulder. He led the way out the door and down the stairs. His eyes flicked about, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jeboc to terrify the man a little before he left, but the barkeep stayed smartly hidden from sight, no doubt waiting until the soldiers had left. It didn't surprise Roscrow that he would be good at hiding.

After all his soldiers had left the tavern and were saddling their dragons, Roscrow stopped at the door, turning to S're. "I think I forgot my battle journal. Go get it, would you?"

S're stared at him a second, then shook her head. "No. You'll get it back when you come back."

For a moment, their eyes locked again. Somehow, Roscrow felt like there was nothing he could do about it. He thought to go get it himself, but the fact that she had said "no" seemed to prevent him from moving. Maybe, he thought, it was the fact he wanted her to keep it as a memory. Yes, that was the reason.

He then smiled. "You don't make a very good slave," he teased softly, reaching out to tuck her long, straight, auburn hair behind her ear.

She smiled back. "I've been told I have an attitude before. I learned it from my father, I think."

"Wish I could thank him." With that, Roscrow bent down, his hand cupping the back of her neck, drawing her to his lips. In his kiss, there was no need for words. In the tender touch of her lips, he sealed his vow, a promise that gave him reason to survive the war that he was headed back into. That was something she saw in his eyes when he drew away.

He walked away, striding confidently to his dragon. However, every step left a feeling of dread in his heart, like he knew when he would return here again, she would not be here.

S're watched from the doorway as Roscrow called his men to attention. Behind him stood Granger, the black beast saddled and ready. They matched absolutely- the commander the vision of masculine perfection, what all men strove to be, his dragon grand, and powerful, and without fear, as all dragons inspired to.

Turning, placing on his great horned helm, the commander mounted his dragon with his soldiers. Granger opened his wings with muted creaks and rustles, fanning the air with mighty beats that threw the dust all around himself. Then he let out a mighty roar, eliciting much movement and responding sounds from those within his talon; even the local onlookers taking a step back in surprise at his power.

In a show of their immense strength, Granger leapt at the sky, rising with great speed. One by one, all the dragons followed suit. They circled the town as they gained altitude until they were lost into the low layer of clouds that had started forming.

Sighing, S're turned away, finding Malissa and Jerassa standing behind her, their arms crossed.

"You're in big trouble, slave," Malissa smirked.

In her eyes, S're could see that the woman hated herself, and thus she took it out on S're. It wasn't something she had ever seen before, but it was something she had felt. But it was the seeing, the knowledge of it that now unnerved her. She looked over to Jerassa. In her brown eyes, she saw an insecure little child that would have been a nice person if she only knew how to be.

S're had to turn her eyes away, uncertain of this strange new insight she seemed to have. It was like she was seeing into the souls of people when she looked into their eyes.

Shrugging, S're let out a sigh. "Might as well get it over with...."

[Chapter 6]

When night at last came, S're stumbled to her old bed of hay in the barn. Collapsing, she curled up in agony. It was as if Jeboc had tried to pack a full week's worth of beatings into one day. She couldn't help the choking sobs that tore from her. She was sure she had to have a broken rib after Jeboc had kicked her several times.

The only comfort she had was that she had managed to sneak back up to the room she had shared with Roscrow and grab his battle journal before anyone else had managed to find it. Now she looked at it as she lay in the hay, gently stroking the leather binding. In his eyes, she had seen his intention to return, and yet, she couldn't help but think why would he ever come back here for her?

A rustle and a hiss made S're look up, panic gripping her, thinking that Jeboc wasn't done with her. Instead, a gorgeously deadly animal looked down at her with bright green eyes. It was a drakon, a mammalian dragon. S're had seen another like it once, though that one had been a green, very different than the blue before her. The creature was the size of a very large draft horse, covered in a thick layer of bright blue fur. The rustle came from its thickly feathered wings. She figured it must have shown up at some point during the day, possibly with the kind old man that had arrived not long after the talon had left.

Slowly, the vaguely canine like alien lowered its head, looking at her. "I never will understand homon need ta do bad t'ings ta each odder." The creature had an extremely thick accent, finding S're's language difficult with her long muzzle.

Looking into the sentient animal's eyes, S're realized whatever insight she had in others, she did not have for this creature. It was not native to her world; it likely had not been born on this world. She knew drakons could live for thousands of years, so it would not surprise her if this one had been born even before humans and drakons had discovered one another. But she gave no more thought to why it was she could not see into this creature; it was not an ability she was accustomed to to begin with.

Sniffling, S're sat up with great effort. She found it difficult to breathe. The drakon sat back on its haunches, reaching out a paw in invitation. S're felt drawn to the female. Its fur was soft and warm, luxuriously plush. Her thick black mane smelled of the forest. Patting S're on the back, the drakon let out a soft purr, soothing her. She could hear it speak, words she couldn't understand. An unnatural warmth spread through her body. She could feel all her injuries mend. Her pain melted away.

When the warmth ceased, it left her feeling calm. She looked up at the drakon. Its eyes were kind. Being a blue, it had no sense of malice, very much unlike the reds of its species. "My dear homon, I've a gift fer ya."

It stood, trotting over to a corner stall. S're followed it, peering into the stall. She gasped. The thin rays of the white moon struck a dark platinum eggshell. The egg was slightly shorter than S're, oval and fat. "They left it? Is it dead?"

"I 'ould not drag it all t'is way if it be dead, homon. Very alive. Must take care of da boy. My partner will not take wif us." The drakon nodded to the egg she had leaned up against the corner. "I've enough young of my own. No need fer more."

"I... I can't take care of it! What if my master finds out?" S're felt a spike of fear.

"Ya hide egg. Homons be clever. Ya da best of dem. T'is I know. Come, we sleep. In morn, I leave." The drakon turned to head back to the stall S're slept in.

Staring at the egg, S're couldn't help but think of getting rid of it, leaving the egg to the wilds. She couldn't very well keep such a thing hidden forever, certainly not until Roscrow got back! Though as she stared, she felt drawn to the egg, drawn with an inconceivable attraction. She found herself resting her hand on the shell, feeling the life growing inside, innocent to the world outside the thick barrier of its universe.

The moment she touched the shell, she felt a maternal instinct, an overwhelming desire to protect this young life. She felt the shell vibrate slightly, as if the tiny dragon within was moving, twitching, aware that something was outside its universe.

"Will not hatch faster ta stare."

With a start S're snapped from her trance. Knowing there was nothing she could do about it tonight, she quickly covered the thing with hay. She would figure out how better to hide it later.

Finished, she went to the drakon. It crossed its almost hands before it, raising a wing. Curling up beside the creature, it used its feathered wing as a blanket for her. Curling her long thick tail around S're, the drakon laid her head on her paws, knowing the serpent in her dreams, bowing in respect to the orange eyes that invaded her slumber.

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"SRE!"

Waking with a start, S're realized she was still under the warm wing of the drakon. Stirring, the creature opened its eyes and looked up at Jeboc. He stepped back in a fear he could not hide from the sensitive nose of the drakon.

"Uh, good morn, sir. I don't suppose ye've seen my slave?" He didn't directly meet the steady piercing gaze of the drakon.

Heaving herself into a standing position, long and thin spines rose out of the fur along her tail. She let out a hiss as she pounced before Jeboc, nearly causing him to fall. He slammed his back against the door of the opposite stall. "Touch, and dead ya will be 'fore da fortnight be gone," she growled, her voice eerily inhuman. She grabbed Jeboc's head under his chin with those paws that resembled hands almost perfectly. Her fingers were long enough to reach his temples, which she squeezed, piercing him with that steady stare. "Touch, and dere be no mercy, no fergive. Dragon not fergive. Never fergive...."

"Talosa! Leave the poor man alone! Where are your manners?" The voice of an older man made the drakon back away from Jeboc. Turning, not looking back, the drakon strode toward her partner. After letting the old man onto her back, she strode off down the street, heading out of town.

For the day, the drakon's words had seemed to shake Jeboc. He kept his temper. However, it didn't take long for him to revert back to his usual self.

The only thing that gave S're any comfort was the egg that she checked every night, watching it change from the dark platinum to a chocolate brown. She didn't know if this was natural. Roscrow had never told her the eggs would change color, but every time she placed her hand against the shell she could inexplicably feel the life within grow more and more restless. Its universe was shrinking fast. It kicked and squirmed in the fluid that kept it suspended. She didn't know how she knew that the tiny dragon felt her presence; she figured it was just a fanciful thought.

As the weeks passed, the two moons peered down at the world below them, watching silently as S're dragged herself to her bed. Slumping down, she did not bother with checking the egg. Jeboc had sold her services to a very drunk man earlier in the evening. She wanted nothing more than to scrub the feeling of violation from her flesh, but she knew it would do no good. Maybe she'd find some solace in her sleep.

Maybe something like a dragon of the purest white, eyes of a blazing blue. She had seen the dragon before, and now, it was even more beautiful. It bore itself with such majesty S're could not help to weep, its grand ivory horns curving up and around a most regal crown. Looking down at S're, it drew her to its body. Like a whisper loud enough to echo in her soul, she heard its pristine feminine voice.

"My dearest, S're. Do not fear the coming days. Your father had the foresight to take you away, but not the courage to face his destiny. He lost sight of his courage in his desperation to save you. Forgive him of this. His love for you was absolute. When my children come for you, they will know you and you will know them as you have always known."

The angelic dragon scraped her claws against the ground as she stood. Slowly, she walked away, the pristine light she emitted turning to darkness. Each of her steps sounded louder and louder the further away she walked. "Do not fear...."

Startled awake, it took a moment for S're to realize the scraping sound was very much real. Sitting up, her heart pounded as she realized the sound came from the egg. The lessons Roscrow had taught her about dragons rang in her ears. She needed to get food for the hatchling.

Leaping to her feet, S're ran for the cellar doors. She cursed when she found them locked. Thinking, S're peered into the window, noticing that Malissa was slumped over the bar, fast asleep. What better way to get back at the bitch than making it seem like she'd slept through a robbery?

Silently slipping in, S're snuck past Jeboc's room into the kitchen. A chunk of pig leg sat on the block, forgotten by the sisters. S're was certain that Jerassa was busy with some patron upstairs.

Running back to the barn, S're stopped before the stall, noticing that the egg had fallen over. It rolled back and forth, the tiny hatchling inside scraping and squealing. With a mighty thrust, the hatchling managed to crack the shell. S're jumped back as a small flood of egg fluid dumped a squirming black mass at her feet. Wiggling, the hatchling struggled to gain its feet. Reaching down, S're grabbed the slippery little thing and dragged it to a dry spot on the floor, helping it gain traction.

Sitting up unsteadily, the tiny hatchling peered up at S're with massive copper eyes. As soon as their gazes locked, S're could feel a connection deeper and more profound than any she'd ever known. In those innocent eyes, she saw something in herself. She saw a royal bearing, an attitude of defiance, a fierce loyalty to that she held most dear, and in this tiny shivering black creature, she saw all that she was within its soul.

Realizing that the hatchling was shivering, S're took a horse blanket off a stall door, gently drying the hatchling off. She noticed the tiny black knobs that would one day grow into enormous horns.

"So you are a boy. The drakon somehow knew. Well, little boy, I bet you're hungry."

He squealed in response. Dropping the pig leg, she smiled as the dragon fell upon it, his teeth already strong enough to crack the bone. He consumed all of it, licking his lips, looking around as if he could find more.

"I'm sorry, little one. That's all I can give you. And I need to go to bed. I'm afraid if I sleep in too late, Jeboc will come in here and find you."

She turned and headed back to her bed. When she sat down, pulling her blankets around her, she was surprised to see the hatchling stumbling after her. It let out a loud "Ah-Ah!" before falling over on its unsteady legs. She giggled at the little boy. With great determination, he rose back to his paws and stumbled over to her, collapsing onto her legs.

She was about to chide the dragon, but his eyes, much too big for his small head, made her stop. Sighing, she lay down without another word, feeling the hatchling curl up against her, his tiny body producing an unusual amount of heat.

Her slumber that night was empty of any more dreams.