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*Here's another installment for DragonSong. There isn't a lot of delicious mating in this one, but there is a lot of exciting dialogue happening with a very unexpected ending. I went with character and a bit of world development in this particular part, hence the length. It's worth it, though! If you last until the end, you will be rewarded with a short and creamy surprise. Have a good time, my dear readers. *

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***

Laryn burst through the open ledge, extending his wings to their limits. They looked like slices of sky as light pierced through the thin, velvety membrane. He beat them several times, rising on the soft currents. Flying always soothed Laryn. Here in the sky, he was far removed from anything but the lashing of rain when the clouds burst. Today, they were tame and puffy. Warm wind rushed playfully under his wings, and the sun felt delightful on his shiny scales. He would have tested his alacrity against the soothing winds were it not for the human's constant pestering. Grengar was awfully sensitive to flying. Even soaring above the tree line made him complain and shout.

Laryn roared, settling for three smooth circles around his keep before his claws found purchase on the lowest ledge of the third spire. The construction loomed before him, a twisting rod of plateaus and wide oval ledges spiraling above him. Each led to a different chamber, and the tower was wide enough to allow flying on the inside.

"Ground...finally!" Grengar dropped like a boulder, absent any grace. The ground punished him for such clumsiness. He cursed, rubbing a sore knee as he rose on his legs. He shot an angry glare towards the crouching dragon.

"Why you lookin' like tha?"

"Amusement," Laryn growled. "The sky never hurt you, despite all your complaints and-"

He waved a hand dismissively. "Don't want to hear. Gah, my blasting knee is throbbing worse than me cock."

"I can carry you if you want."

"No need," he slapped the approaching snout, silencing the dragon yet again. "Can walk just fine."

He limped just fine. Laryn padded ahead, then leaped, ramming his head into the metal doors rising before him. The shock pierced through his skull like a swarm of buzzing bees, but dissipated almost instantly. Grengar shouted something.

"It only tickled," Laryn shook his wings and neck. Why couldn't humans have the same endurance? Laryn growled, imagining himself playing with his servans. If his wings merely tickled instead of shoving, and if his claws merely scratched instead of tearing their bodies apart...it would have been a lot more interesting than the cold reality. He liked his humans, even if nature made them frail and weak.

"You're one tough beast," Grengar said, stepping past the entrance. He looked here and there, whistling in appreciation. The inner spire was a huge thing, with beams of light spilling from everywhere. "What a cave! You've got pillars and ledges even up there!"

"Spire," Laryn corrected.

The square faced noble scoffed. "Spire, cave, den. Name it how you like. Dragons live in caves."

"Since when?"

"Since the dawn of time, you thick-scaled beast. Haven't you read the tales of adventurers or the writings of scholars?"

The dragon shook his head, tail flicking impatiently. Grengar rolled slower than an overflowing barrel of mead.

"I can't decipher your scratches," Laryn said.

"Have someone read them for you."

"I'm never interested."

Grengar chuckled at the dragon's dismissal, looking up. His eyes widened for a moment, then squinted as they found the dragon. "Course not. Pleasing your maidens is a far better affair."

"They weren't the only ones to enjoy it."

Laryn knew the words would pinch Grengar. The noble walked, stepping on the dragon's tail. Good thing the oaf didn't impale himself on the spikes.

"What male wouldn't?" Grengar shouted. "Gods, dragon! You are wetter than any creature has the right to!"

Laryn coiled his tail around his legs, almost tripping the noble. Grengar lunged ahead, embracing the dragon's foreleg with both hands. He cursed.

"Remaining here is a possibility."

"And be what? Your male whore?" The human collected himself.

"It's a possibility."

Laryn got slapped straight in a nostril. "Don't want to wake up with your eel between me arms every day. By all storms, dragon! All you think of is mating, mating, mating."

"Among other pleasures," Laryn licked his snout.

That's where the debate ended. The two walked side by side towards the center of the spire at an almost infuriating pace. Claws clicked on the polished stone with every step. Click. Click. Click. Grengar liked that. He praised Laryn a few times between the observations he made after every pair of steps. The columns supporting the circular ledges above them looked marvelous. This looked fabulous. That looked exotic and mystifying. He even said he'll build his academy with the same design in mind. Laryn agreed almost instantly. Despite his revered status among the humans of his city, there was a definite lack of dragons outside his keep.

"So where do you keep it?"

Laryn touched the stone with his belly, wings shooting up on either side. He flapped once, stirring dust. "Up there," he pointed with his horned head.

"Up?"

He bowed his head. Grengar pressed his lips and tapped his foot apprehensively. "I should have figured. Burying it in a cellar would make too much sense for a dragon."

"Damp. Cold. Dark," Laryn hissed. "Can you climb on my back?"

"Almost," Grengar gripped a neck spike and pushed himself up with a mighty groan. Laryn's neck tensed against the pull. This noble was heavier than he looked. Fortunately, he managed to scramble up without using the dragon's head as a stair this time. "All settled."

Laryn's growl echoed through the empty spire. He flapped his wings only a dozen of times, leaving the desolate base. He angled upwards, basking in the sunlight flowing between the crested ceiling. The third plateau found him with the unique texture of soil below his paws. Wild scents entered through his flared nostrils, and birds chirped in the vicinity. Laryn walked straight to avoid stepping on the blooming flowers. The lush patch extended all around him, perfuming the air with the suave smell of flowers and fresh vegetation.

Grengar laughed, tapping his hand merrily on Laryn's neck. "You have a garden? Inside a spire?"

"Smells and feels better than any lifeless surface," Laryn answered.

A black door blocked their path. Its smooth surface looked completely void, absorbing the light instead of reflecting it. Laryn stopped three tails away from it and took a deep breath. Air rushed through his throat, stroking a soft hiss.

"That one too tough for your thick head?" Grengar chuckled as he approached.

"It is," the dragon arched his neck, wings flaring on either side. His tail rushed forth, pulling the human back. Laryn pushed his tongue inside his throat, summoning that annoying choking sensation. Instinct told him to swallow or cough, but the blaze welling inside his belly urged a different course. The dragon tensed, claws digging into the ground. Throwing his head forward, he unleashed the heated air with frightening intensity. Grengar's shout was lost amidst the torrent of flame erupting from the dragon's maw. Black vapors coalesced around the black surface, swallowing the living fire. Then, cracks blazed across the dark stone, webbing into intricate patterns. A burst of light followed, and the black stone puffed into nothingness.

"I've seen those!" Grengar shouted. "Oathgates. They imprint to the caster's magic signature. "

Laryn pushed his tongue around his rows of teeth, spitting the excess goo. Expelling fire always felt more uncomfortable than hot. Sure, his tongue itched and his throat felt rather sore, but the sensations never persisted for long. Grengar mentioned something about belching, yet Laryn chose not to answer. He shook his head, walked ahead, and went straight through the smoky door. The acrid smell made his nostrils itch. He lifted a forepaw and brushed his nose against the smaller scales of his toes. That felt delightful, until the itch carried deep into his nose.

Laryn sneezed, expelling a short gust of flame. "Oathgates bear a terrible scent, for all the good they do. Do you have these in your cave, human?"

Grengar huffed, coughing two times. "Gods, no. You can build a palace with that wealth!"

"My mages said the same," Laryn said, advancing inwards. "You always judge everything on value. Is safety not important to you?"

No answer came aside from another series of coughs. Laryn ignored them, padding forward. The dome shaped chamber was larger than one would expect. Crisp light flowed through tall, flame shaped windows upon the garden below. Trees grew tall, sheltering the small birds with their thick canopies. The rich smell of fruits and flowers soothed dragon's nostrils with each breath he took.

"What in the-" Grengar said, words dying inside his throat. He limped towards the nearest dragon, touching it all over. "This is gold!" He stuck his hand inside the carefully crafted maw, feeling the tongue and the teeth, with their jagged and serrated edges.

"It is," Laryn approached with a yawn.

"Looks bloody real, it does. The teeth and...look at the claws! Don't tell me you made these with that fire of yours!"

"My crafters did, then my mages. One couldn't work without the other."

"Mages, eh? They made you a real beauty..." Grengar kissed and spoke softly to the inanimate dragon, his words full of warmth and admiration.

Laryn felt a certain pride welling at the human's compliments. He moved towards another nearby female. She was resting at the base of a tree, tail wrapped around the thick trunk. Several hatchlings ran and squeaked under her fanned wings. Laryn growled softly, nuzzling the gold dragon's neck. Although cold, the scales softly rubbed and embraced his sensitive snout. He descended down her neck, all the way to a paw, where a pair of hatchlings nipped and tripped over the long claws.

"I spent weeks guiding those oafs," Laryn growled, flicking his tongue over a hatchling's tiny head. The creature stared forward, ruby eye glimmering under the sun's caress. "Teaching them the difference between types of scales. Smooth on the head, sinuous on the belly, large at the sides."

"Not just the scales, dragon. These-" Grengar rasped. "These look like you. Perfect copies!"

"It took a dozen tries and magic to achieve this result," Laryn said. "But it pleases me to have my kin guarding these empty walls."

"No doubt... just look at the wings, and the tail!" Gregan shouted excitedly, petting and touching like a wee human hatchling. He crouched under the dragon, then collapsed with a grunt. "Gah! This knee stings like it's about to give in."

Laryn approached the noble's dragon, a lounging male caressed by tall blades of grass. He sat on his haunches, tasting the air with his tongue. Laryn pawed and nipped at his neck playfully before crouching near the fallen noble. "On my back," he hissed.

"Cff. I can-"

"You can't, and even if you do, it hurts. Up."

Grengar didn't argue. He settled on the dragon's back, bouncing his bottom until he found a proper position. "Gratitude."

"You are most welcome. Would you care for a brief exploration?"

"No need to ask," Grengar grumbled his accord.

Laryn strolled around the garden briefly, explaining and answering Grengar's seemingly endless questions. The noble was curious about everything! He inquired about the plants, and how they grow here. Laryn pointed towards the holes carefully crafted through the walls and the windows. Then, he explained purposes and reasons in no small detail. It all came down to preference and the ability to shape everything as he desired, though Grengar always babbled about how costly everything was.

"I wouldn't mind having a few gold dragons spread around my garden," Grengar said.

"I will lend you my crafters."

"And what will they work with, dragon?"

"Gold."

"My gold?" Grengar laughed heartily. "Barely enough to shape a small drake."

"Mine can shape a lot more, if you match its weight with a feasible bargain."

"I may be...yes. I just may," Gregan rubbed the dragon's neck.

Laryn left the morning garden once he pointed out every dragon. The females with eggs were Grengar's favorites, though the dragon always liked the hatchlings more. They look so small and fragile, yet full of life. He thought on his own life as a hatchling, only to be met by a deep haze. It was similar to the oathgate, in a way. No matter how much he struggled to pierce through it, the fog allowed nothing through.

"So where now?"

"You'll see," Laryn approached the missing door and slammed his tail on the ground. The impact sent a jolt of pain up his spine. With a groan of rocks slamming into each other, the black guardian resumed its eternal vigil.

"Up again," the dragon said.

"What could you possibly have up there?"

Grengar's incredulous words were dispelled soon enough. Flying onto the ledge above, Laryn melted the second oathgate to reveal a second sanctuary. The evening garden was shaped like a wedge and was basked in the most pleasant ruddy light. The fiery rays cascaded upon the golden grasslands, reflecting off the dragons prowling, hunting, and fighting with each other. Laryn walked briskly, bending the grasses with each step. His growls summoned a complaint from the sensitive noble.

"Too loud, too fast."

Laryn snapped his jaws at him. It took a certain measure of restraint to contain his excitement. Nestled with a dozen of his kind, he felt a noticeable urge to run around and play. To do something, as he had done during the past visits. Yet this time, he wasn't alone, and he offered to help Grengar. It was inconsiderate of him to test the human's resilience.

"God's throbbing cock," Grengar whispered as they approached a rearing dragon. His wings were so wide they blocked the sunlight, and his paws almost as thick as Laryn's. Laryn imitated the pose, finding purchase on the dragon's shoulders. He nuzzled its head, licked its cold nose, then dropped down on his fours with a growl. "This is the evening garden, home to a clutch of juveniles."

"They don't look that young," Grengar observed as they passed from one dragon to another. Some were a bit shorter than Laryn, while others were just a bit above him. Most were alone, basking in the sun, rolling in the grasses or playing with their long, sinuous tail. Pairs or even groups of three or more were scattered near the clusters of trees. Those were siblings, still too young to disperse and find their own territories.

"They're big..." Grengar whistled.

"Age isn't important. Dragons fully mature in the first five years of life. Past that, the growth slows considerably."

"Why?"

Laryn snorted. "It is the way of things. We do not ask why the sun rises in one part of the sky and sets in the other."

"Mhmm. So are you going to gift me one of these drakes?"

Crouching, Laryn pushed his head between a dragon's hind legs. A female, by the feel of it. He ran his tongue along her slit, wishing he could taste more than the slightly salty metal.

"No. We'll trade in gold," Laryn growled softly.

"This is gold!" Grengar slapped the solid metal. "And look at her sparkling eyes, shining like living emeralds. It stirs you, dragon!"

"Stirs your greed, more likely. There is something else I want to show you before concluding our bargain," Laryn turned tail and ran towards the exit. It only took two, long leaps to reach the central chamber. Grengar cursed the dragon's excitement. He almost flew from his back were it not for his muscular grip around a convenient neck spike.

They flew near the top of the spire. Laryn beat the air hard, hissing. The tension made his joints burn, but the slight pain only added to his excitement. He knew very well what was up there. Angling towards the fractured sky above, Laryn gained a bit of altitude, only to drop down in a whipping frenzy of growls and currents. Gregan's screamed. He was probably terrified with his stomach all the way up to his throat. Laryn touched the ground with a roar. The lack of grace made his legs buckle under the impact. He shook his form, dispersing the shock with one powerful slap of his wings and tail. Gregan was a storm of complaints and curses to which Laryn paid little attention. His flared instincts made everything blurry save for the fire tingling beneath his scaly hide.

Laryn leaped towards the third oathgate, digging large gashes into the soft soil as he skidded to a stop. With a jerk of his head, he roared, breathing a burning inferno. The stream fell upon the gate and the surrounding wall in an avalanche of fire and heat. Globes of molten fire dripped between Laryn's teeth, charring the vegetation below. With a snap of jaws, the torrent ended, though the heat still lingered. It bounced back from the gate towards the dragon and the terrified man on his back Laryn tucked his wings. The heat was so intense he had to close his eyes.

"Gods' charred cock! You almost burned me to a crisp!" Gregan yelled angrily.

Laryn cared not to reply. He swirled the oily substance around his maw, coating his aching teeth and stinging tongue with the soothing substance. With that done, he ran past the cloud of smoke, emerging into what appeared to be a dark, grassy tundra. The sun filtered its bright light through the painted glass, turning the falling rays into a soft, midnight radiance. Small holes represented the stars, and a crescent edge took place of the moon. Grengar whistled softly, embraced by light and darkness alike.

The dragon growled excitedly, stepping over the small vegetation. Fir trees were huge but spread and scarce, hinting at a colder climate. Dragons favored high places. It was no wonder they chose to make their homes inside mountains and valleys. The air here was still warm though, and the chorus of crickets gave way to the shrilling chirps of birds.

"I can see other dragons, but...look around you! Ice trees growing taller than you, birds zipping from one branch to another...oh dragon..." Gregan took a deep breath, humming softly. "I like this. It's serene. Beautiful. Living. Mayb' I'll build myself a garden in the main hall. Wouldn't that be a sight to see?"

Laryn shared his enthusiasm, scratching his neck against the trees and clawing their bark. He felt at home here, in the bosom of nature and with his kin spread all around. Something about this place stirred the dragon's dormant instincts. He spent many nights outside, though this place seemed much more intimate. The lack of stairs prevented any human from reaching the upper gardens, unless Laryn chose to fly them up.

Laryn could hardly stay in one place for long. He bounced around the enclosed space, growling his bliss until he found another tree to abuse. He scratched with his forepaws, scrapping the tough bark and revealing the lighter colored wood underneath. The sound of scrapping twigs filled the air. Laryn stretched his neck, sniffing and pushing into the thinner branches. The roughness of it felt delightful on his scales. A proper scratch this was. The scrapping sound, the feel of wood and the fresh scent invigorated him as much as a fresh kill.

"Getting itchy?"

The noble only got a growl in response. He huffed, looking around for something to distract himself. Then he burst, laughing copiously. Laryn drew back, wings flapping. He hissed, annoyed at the rude interruption.

"Wha-" Grengar almost cried from his mirthful ordeal. "Are those two mating?"

Laryn tucked his wings, passing between the two trees ahead. Branches tickled his wings as he burst on the other side. He came right next to a pair of golden dragons. They touched snouts, tongues and wings, growling their newfound bliss.

"Certainly," Laryn replied curtly. He nuzzled their heads, offering his own, soft growl to the mating pair. It would have been a much tender moment were it not for Grengar's outbursts. He calmed for a few breaths, then burst again in a most annoying and repetitive laughter. What amused him so?

Laryn silenced the ruckus with a threatening snap of his jaws. He walked to another nearby pair, delighting himself in the scent of fresh pine needles. These dragons barely got past the mating fight. The female bared her teeth, lashing at an equally vicious male. He retreated from a swiping paw, tail brought around his form for extra protection. Though they seemed hateful of each other, both dragons had their gender fully exposed. Laryn touched everything with his sensitive snout, taking in all the details. It didn't take long until lust stirred inside his lower belly. There was something primal in the way the dragons licked and nipped at each other. In how the male mounted his mate and thrust, or how the female snarled, tongue limp from all that exertion. Mating culminated with release, but these dragons burned with lust and affection long after they spent their seed.

Laryn closed his eyes, imagining himself sharing the same moments with his promised female. Her licks were warm and tender, and she felt warm. So warm... Laryn crouched, slowly thrusting inside her depths...

He blinked. There was no female under him. Only tough soil and short vegetation to tickle his erect member. Laryn shook his head, hissing a strange, moaning sound.

"You want one of your own, eh?" Grengar bent forward, hugging and scratching the dragon's neck. "Das' alrigh'. Once my mages return with their catch, you'll be inside your female before you know it."

Laryn snorted. He couldn't show such weakness before a human. He was a dragon, resilient and unyielding as the scales latched on his hide. Desire could wait a few more days. Blazes! He went a dozen years without a female to mount. Why complain now and demand like a restless hatchling? He needed distraction. Something to spend his fire on. The two golden dragons offered the perfect opportunity.

He crouched. "Down."

Gregan took that the wrong way. With a wide smile on his face, he settled back and kicked his legs. "Onwards, mighty dragon! Your liege requires-"

He got a loud and slimy roar instead. Grengar's arms were pelted with saliva as he braced against the onslaught. "I-I was just-"

Rolling on the side, Laryn rid himself of the burden.

"I was joking, you lust-ridden beast!" he spat at the dragon, retreating away from his restless wings. Laryn flapped them several times, speeding the human's retreat. They felt heavy and useless in this position, but his paws had plenty of space to flex and rake. They slid along the two dragons, latching on whatever grip they found. Coiling his tail around the male's, Laryn nuzzled the two dragons, purring with contentment. Lifeless metal did little to reciprocate feelings, but to Laryn these dragons had a higher value than gold. He gave them life and sought comfort here whenever that annoying longing for his kind became too unreasonable to contain.

"Come on now, dragon. You're scratching them all over!"

Biting at a dragon's neck, Laryn jerked his paws. He was vaguely aware of his growing excitement as he lost himself in the thrill of playing. He scrambled on all fours, leaping and rubbing between the mating dragons. A real dragon would be quick to lash with his tail or slash his claws, but Laryn didn't care. He buffeted with his wings and slid his claws over the dragons until his breath became heavy and deep. He drew back, crouching. Every part of his body was tense, including his member. Exposed to the dry air, it slapped against his belly in all its glistening glory.

Roaring, Laryn dropped on his back and rolled towards Grengar, every limb going suddenly limp. The human gulped, his gaze fixed on Laryn's hindquarters. Lifting his hind leg to further expose himself, the dragon gripped the tip of his tail and looked towards the human, flicking his tongue between the translucent spikes.

"I'm not joining you. By all gods, those dragons would be bleedin' to death after all that abuse!" Grengar coughed. He spoke no further words. Did any need to be shared? Releasing his now slimy tail, Laryn turned towards something as warm as his tongue. He didn't intend to release, though that didn't stop his tongue from sliding once across the length of his draconic member. He moaned softly. Warmth was most welcome on the cold, exposed flesh. A shiver coursed through his spine, wings fluttering with anticipation. His tongue was warm and moist, and his maw so inviting. A dozen thrust could see him as fulfilled as all the males surrounding him.

"Only a few gashes would bother them," the dragon said, breaking away from his own, tantalizing scent. "Playing has a way of stirring our blood. It feeds our fire, nurtures our instincts. It's a necessity, same as mating or hunting."

"But those aren't-" Grengar started.

"It doesn't matter what they are," Laryn interrupted. "To me, they are dragons. They lack the scent and the feel of our kin, but sight provides a strong deception."

Gregan merely stared, scratching his short cropped beard.

"Movement, human. Without testing our mettle, our strength withers. Hatchlings have their siblings, mates have each other, and solitary dragons often fight for the thrill of it. I have nothing."

"You have your servants."

Laryn placed his head on a forepaw. "I'd kill them. Your race hasn't been born to endure. That is why you build keeps and walls and houses. They compliment your deficit."

"Deficit? You're too bloody big! Any creature would have trouble taking down a dragon!"

It was Laryn's turn to be silent. Gregan didn't understand. How could he explain the soothing ferocity of fighting or the thrill of soaring upon the winds? Humans had a difficult time grasping the nudge of raw instinct. Though Haran and the two maidens nodded their heads in understanding, they merely pretended to comprehend something beyond their reach. They weren't born of fire. They had the ability to suppress the wild pull of instinct, and that made them weak.

Free, but weak.

The dragon scrambled on his fours. He felt too giddy and ecstatic to bother with the few seed he had left. He crouched towards the human, one paw moving slightly ahead of the other.

"Don't you pounce on me! Those claws-" Grengar started to get up.

"Won't get anywhere near you," he poked his wounded knee with the tip of his snout. Grengar winced.

"Still throbs, blazes take it!"

"I shall not bother with you then."

"What? Yer leaving me here?"

"For a bit," Laryn turned around. "What I'm about to do would leave you aching in several other places."

Gregan frowned. "What do you plan?"

Laryn took to the air. He flew around the garden, performing every aerial flick he could think of. No. He didn't think. He swirled and dived through the air like a luminescent mote, delighting in the freedom. Once his wings burned with fatigue, he took to the ground. Running yielded less speed and grace, but the thrill of leaping and hunting whatever he set his eyes upon felt equally satisfying. When he returned to Gregan, every thought and worry about his future mate or the trade vanished. For a bit, at least. Gregan was already near a pair, inspecting them up-close.

"Well," Gregan started. "That was a mighty fine exercise. Did you give any thought of my gift?"

"Gift?" Laryn cocked his head.

"These two lovelies," he kissed the two dragons. "They like me. We shared words and kisses while you flew and roared around like some...oversized crow or something."

Laryn snorted, ruffling the human's hair.

Gregan looked at him, scoffed, then turned towards his prize. "These are perfect. You see the way their necks are angled and how they look at each other? It's beautiful! "And the one above has his right wing drooping over their bodies, so you don't see they're mating unless you know where to look! It's suave. Delicate. Sublime."

Quite a decent observation, coming from a two legged oaf. Laryn settled on his belly, growling in contentment.

"Grengar."

"Hmh?"

"That male is about to have his foreleg bit off," Laryn prodded and touched with his snout between the many limbs. "He claimed his mate too fast."

"Too fast?" he rasped, almost coughing.

"Side position is more suitable for mating. She just rolled, judging from her upraised wing and the position of her legs. Yet the male was impatient. He thrust instead of pulling out."

"How do you know?"

"His pose, the way he's facing, his curving neck. Instincts are quick to guide us out of danger, but we can still make mistakes."

"Gah," the human grumbled. "Don't care about that. This is the only pair that doesn't look lewd."

"He's one claw away from filling her with all his length."

"You can't see-"

"You can."

"Can't!"

Laryn snarled, dwarfing the human's pitiful shout.

That did little to silence Grengar. "I want this one. Gods, dragon! I'm about to give you a female with warm scales and wet folds to pierce, and you defy me?!"

"I will pay you accordingly," he snarled towards the human. His face was all red and tense.

"With these!" He jabbed finger towards the dragons. "I want these two."

"You will have gold.".

"That's gold."

"They're my clutch," Laryn bared his fangs, tired of this unruly pest. "You can't have them."

Grengar cupped Laryn's snout. When shouting failed, he resorted to pleading. Smiling radiantly, he spoke in the softest tone possible. "You...can spare a pair, yes?"

"No."

"But you have-"

"No."

The depth of the dragon's throat -or the sight of so many teeth- drew all strength out of the human. He pet his snout carefully, smiling weakly. "Your breath smells..."

Laryn approached further, touching the tip of his tongue to the human's short beard.

"Ack! Fine. I'll- I'll settle for what you give me. Just don't...don't....lick me!"

A reasonable request, if Laryn was feeling forviging. He pushed his moist tongue all the way out, brushing it all over Gregan's face. His hands gripped and pushed, barely able to catch the agile eel. The human coughed and spat, screaming like dying prey.

"You vile- vile..."

"I only licked your face," Laryn purred. "Are you giving me ideas about what's below?"

"Gods, no!" he curled into large, slimy, sweaty ball. "I'll- we'll talk. Words. No licks"

Laryn considered the offer and nodded his horned head. Relief washed over Gregan. His eyebrows returned to their flaccid state, his fingers relaxed, and his throat released a long exhale. "Grahaaah!"

Laryn's chest rumbled with amusement as he dropped on his side. He lashed with his paws, pinning the human to his belly.

"I cannot give you a dragon, but you will have the gold."

"You will need a handful, drake. By all the gods and their throbbing cocks! I'm giving you a living dragon here!"

"I said will see you repaid in kind."

"There's no doubt about kindness," the noble grumbled, breaking free of the lax grip. "I only question the quantity."

"It's sizeable."

"Like your absent cock?" He chuckled. "This clutch of yours weights more than this whole city!"

"I doubt that."

"I doubt you too," Gregan blabbered angrily.

That washed the lingering mirth away. Laryn pushed his nose in the human's face, baring his teeth. He disliked greed, but demands were a different breed. It took restraint to avoid inching just over that pudgy head and snapping his jaws shut.

"You mistake me for one of your own, human."

Grengar squirmed. No use, with two large paws pressing down on his back.

"Ye-yes, yes. I chose my words...poorly," he stopped, catching his racing breath. "I just...just really wanted a...a dragon, you know." He tried to smirk, but his trembling lips refused to obey. "You're majestic and...and beautiful and fierce...."

Laryn pressed harder, making the pitiful lump of meat groan and yelp.

"Pl...please!"

"You will take what I give," the dragon roared in Gregan's face. "How much I give," he parted his jaws. "Or I will claim your life."

Gregan nodded erratically. Laryn relaxed his paws and nuzzled the human's sweaty forehead. "I'm pleased we agree."

He was a trembling mess, dropping from the dragon's belly with a scared yelp. Arms flailing, Gregan barely kept his footing as he stumbled away. "You're a beast, through and through. Even gave me a back ache."

"Could've given you a broken one."

"Gods..." Gregan propped himself against one of the golden dragons, huffing like a boar. "What if you killed me?"

"The possibility existed."

"A possibility? For a few thoughtless words?"

"They were poorly chosen."

He mumbled something, then pointed with a finger. "I don't murder people for snickering at me, or for making snide remarks. Drunken thugs do that!"

"Dragons too. I was sorely tempted to taste your flesh."

Gregan squinted his eyes, unsure if it was a jest or a threat. He pulled his knees to his chest, placing a palm on the dragon's chest. "You wouldn't."

"True," Laryn arched his head over his back. "You have something I want."

"Is that the only reason you don't indulge in your fantasies?"

"I certainly don't keep you around for sharing words."

Gregan frowned, then burst like an overflowing barrel. "Yer lying!" He laughed, tapping a foreleg. "Can't talk to your trees, nor your dragons. I brought a measure of amusement under this tough hide of yours."

"Perhaps," Laryn growled. "Now get up there. There are a clawful other dragons I want to show you."

"Ah, I won't linger," Gregan sighed, slapping the dragon's neck once he hoisted himself on his back. "Would like to see what you would trade for a living kin."

"Can wait."

"Can't. I've seen enough dragons to last me for days."

The human had the right of it. Once he was safely strapped on Laryn's back, they left the midnight garden. Speeding his strides, Laryn burst into the flaming light of the central chamber. Vegetation bent under his hurried paws. Laryn leaped off the edge, adjusting his flight path with powerful beats of his azure wings. The dragons' scales sparkled under the light's caress. He flew up, slits narrowing to accommodate to the brightness. Laryn chose the very last ledge. Though sun fell in its earnest here, no vegetation grew on the dusty rock.

"No oathgate?" Gregan pointed as they touched solid stone.

"Unnecessary," Laryn pushed the silvery doors with a paw. They parted with a screech, revealing dark walls, dust, and little in the ways of illumination. The beams fell through the small arches above, caressing the stone figures of men and the shining piles rising up to their waist. Gregan whistled, no doubt glaring over all that scattered gold.

"This is a proper hoard!" he exclaimed. "You have coins and...let me get a closer look."

Laryn allowed the human to dismount. The air was stale here. Smelled of aged stone and dust. Scratching his nose on a forepaw, the dragon got back on his fours.

"Fancy goblets, these. Jewel encrusted," Gregan muttered, picking through the coins and the crafts of his kin. Laryn drove a paw into the pile, jerking it. Coins scattered everywhere, accompanied by the clatter of goblets and other vases.

"Loud! Can you..." Gregan pressed his lips together, sealing them with a finger. He earned an even louder growl in response.

"Pff. A proper dragon you are."

"I don't see how pots and pebbles attract you so."

"It's not the look, dragon, but the quantity!" The noble scooped a handful of items, letting them slip between his fat arms. "No lord or king ever saw such wealth!"

"They did. You are not the only highborn I bargained with." Laryn sniffed the stone statue rising amidst the golden pile, then settled on his haunches. His tail went around his limbs, high enough to be licked without too much effort.

Gregan scoffed. "Others? Peh! You probably forgot them already. I'll will be remembered for my selfless deeds," he smirked, approaching. "You can tell your hatchlings how Gregan the Kind brought you and your mate together!"

"And if she turns out to be a he?" Laryn released his tail from his maw.

"I'll get you another one!"

He growled, scratching his shoulder with a hind paw. "You speak as if our kind willingly swoops into your esteemed care."

"You did. My dragon did. There have to be others," Gregan chuckled, measuring the statue with a most curious stare. "Large beard, unreasonably long hair, crown... who is this, a king?"

"Was," Laryn scrapped his claws along the stone, drawing a most unpleasant shrill.

"You killed him?"

"Naturally. That was his hoard you were fondling."

"Wh-" Gregan looked back and forth between the pile, the dragon, and the rest of the room. "You killed all of those?!" He was a frenzy of pointed fingers and slobbery words.

"I didn't belch or lay this hoard myself," Laryn led the way to another pile. Gregan struggled to catch up with his limp. He had a spiky crown on his head and two jewel encrusted goblets in his hands.

"Gods above. These men. Statues, whatever" he corrected himself. "All look royal or highborn."

"They are."

"What about their subjects?"

"Underlings?" Laryn looked back.

"Aye. Roasted them? Slashed them with your claws?"

"Only if they attacked first."

"Gods... You did kill a lot of humans..."

"Someone had to." Laryn swiped his tail, urging Gregan to increase his pace. The next pile had both silvery and golden objects. Swords, daggers, and shields found their way among more usual items. Gregan pulled out a rod. A large diamond shaped crystal lay at the top, surrounded by four flaming pillars at the side. He hit the ground with the butt, speaking with a grave voice.

"The king decreed that from this day forth, all men should surrender their possession to Ser Dragon the Vicious."

"I tried that," Laryn brought his head down, gripping the staff. He yanked it out of the human's frail grip and threw it against a wall. "And failed."

"This is why," Gregan complained. "You lack tact and a soft approach for this kind of things."

"Softness and caring only gave them time to fire more arrows. Those two legs weren't like you."

"Truly? They had fur and scales and walked on eight limbs?"

Laryn shook his head. "They looked like you do, but..." he trailed off with a soft growl. He couldn't remember them. Fires! Every time he flew here, it was like he saw these treasures for the first time. He knew his spire well, but the statues and the gold... Where did they all come from? The fog spread all around his senses, clouding every detail. Who were these men? How did their crafts end up here? Why?

Laryn couldn't answer.

"Matters not," the dragon fluttered his wings. "Their legacy isn't dead like the dust of their burned bones."

"Nor should it remain so. Caged here, all this wealth is useless," Gregan said.

"Not if I trade it."

"To me."

"To you, and to the others who might appease my desires."

Gregan bridged his hands together and rested his chin on them. "To me. All of it, dragon. You will trade it all, to me."

He looked despicable with that stupid smile and the greed shining in his eyes. All of it?! He demanded that after only seeing one side of the chamber. There were several more piles spread throughout the chamber, even taller than the two they've seen.

"All?" Laryn flared his wings, head lowering to match the human's gaze. "You know of what you speak?"

He didn't cower this time. "I know of what I have."

"What do you have, human?" A gust of warm air rushed out of the dragon's nostrils. "I see no dragon here. Only words and promises."

"I keep my words and promises," he shouted. "Have the other fools you traded with done so? Have they offered you what I have?"

"They did," Laryn snapped at the air, saliva dripping between his bared teeth.

"Then why are you still alone, with only metal and stone to keep you company?" He slapped the dragon's snout. Such defiance! He would've pull back a stump if it wasn't for-

A second slap, straight between the nostrils. "How many times have you released on bare stone, dragon?"

A third slap, then a fourth. "Wealth does not continue your legacy. Coin cannot sprout hatchlings just as stone cannot breed grass. Without MY dragon and MY aid, you are as dead as the walls around you."

He was a storm of unrelenting hits and unbroken words. A crackling thunder of harsh, terrifying truths. Every word felt like lightning across Laryn's hide, slithering under his scales until they were cold and numb. So what if he killed this human? What if he kept his hoard? He would have no female to warm him with her licks and no hatchlings to shelter under his wing. He would be lifeless. Purposeless. Just another golden dragon to decorate a garden for all eternity.

Laryn drew back, licking his itching nose. His paws relaxed, wings resuming their place at his sides. His snarl softened, culminating with a pitiful yowl.

"You shall have what you ask for," Laryn turned away from that vile, accusing face. He couldn't trust himself to keep his claws sheathed. Though he felt pitiful and weak for giving in to the human's exorbitant request, his instincts urged a more simple choice. End him, then fly in search of a proper mate. His wings were resilient enough to brave the fiercest currents, and prey would kept him fed for months. The barrier of mountains came into his mind. So close, yet so far away...

You are not what you own. You are not what others demand you do be.

What if he was?

"Dragon, I-" Gregan spoke.

Laryn whirled around. His jaw was so tight it trembled, and his claws tried their hardest to tear into the stone below his paws. He touched the cold stone with his belly, bowing for the impetuous filth.

"On my back."

"I-"

He cut the highborn's words with a snarl. "Say one more word and I will leave you here to dry along with your beloved gold."

Gregan nodded and struggled to climb. It took longer than both man and dragon preferred. Without a paw to support him or a conveniently placed head below his feet, the human grunted and fell, tried and collapsed until he finally found his strength.

Laryn didn't wait for him to settle. He leaped on his fours and dived straight down. Ledges flew past him like birds in the sky. When the ground threatened to approach, he flared his wings. Air flew under them, almost ripping them apart from all that rush. The dragon snarled. His paws touched the ground roughly, collapsing under the heavy strain of his body.

"Gah!" Gregan screamed. "Almost killed yourself with-"

His words were cut short. Laryn swiped his head around, pushing the weight off his back. In two leaps, he was out of the third spire. Within three beats of his wings, he soared back into the sky, a territory where no human could ever walk. He growled his freedom, looping lazily in the golden sun of the evening. Somehow, he didn't have the willpower or the energy for the complicated maneuvers. Settling for a simple glide, the dragon circled his keep. After two full loops, he landed on the tallest ledge of the central spire. He walked around, growling and snapping at the air. Not even flying shattered the shackles of his thoughts. Settling just at the edge, the dragon busied himself with a forepaw. He had view of the whole city here, and the wind bore the wildness of the high skies.

His city. He wanted to feel that sense of pride welling inside him. To appreciate the improvement he brought upon these humans. They revered and cherished him, and had only words of praise for his fiery eyes or sparkling scales. He remembered a day in the plaza, and a great feast. Humans were all around him, touching, talking praise. Laryn felt so warm that day. So fulfilled.

He reached into his memories, ripping it back. Nothing. With each stroke of his tongue, Laryn only tasted the bitterness and deceit of their kind. The intensity startled him. Somehow, he knew he shouldn't feel such aversion towards humans for a single trade. No matter how he put it, he gained the better end of the bargain. A living dragon was priceless.

Laryn focused on his female, but even she refused to grace his thoughts. A deep, burning anger replaced the space reserved for his private, most innermost desires. He reached deeper into it. It felt odd. Out of place, somehow. Concealed like the fog shrouding his memories. Perhaps they were all tied to something.... Something that lay before his very eyes. Two legged creatures living inside their ostentatious caves and roaming the city with only a single care in their mind. To get more, no matter the cost.

Humans.

Laryn roared, unleashing a stream of fire into the air. Molten drops spewed from his maw, falling down like burning rain. His instinct warned of betrayal and pain. The crowned kings in the hoard's chamber were proof enough. The price of their insolence and the wounds they inflicted was repaid with blood and gold. Instincts never lied. Whatever path they chose, Laryn followed. That one happened to end in blood and death. Gregan had the right of it. Laryn killed humans. He couldn't remember how many or for what reason, but the taste of their blood still felt fresh on his tongue.

Laryn jumped from his perch. Wind rushed under his swings, flaring the azure membrane to its full span. The sun lazily set behind him, blessing dark scales with molten auras. Trees and statues passed under him in a rush. The wall quickly approached, and a human shielded his eyes from the glare. Haran?

Laryn swooped down, but couldn't catch a clear glimpse. He whipped the air with three flaps of his broad wings, passing the gate and the figure in a blink. Buildings rolled under him, soon replaced by fields of crops. They too gave way before vast greenery.

The forest offered a measure of tranquility. Resting his aching wings at his sides, Laryn coiled his tail around his form. Such silence. The wilds whispered a most soothing song unlike Gregan's prattling tongue. His words still carried weight, whispering obscenities with each gust of passing wind.

Laryn bared his teeth. Even the memory of that man made his scales churn. Turning a forepaw, he nibbled and licked at the frayed scales. They shed easily, though a few resilient ones made his tail jerk with their annoying tickling. With one paw done, Laryn worked on the other. Humans were exactly like these dull scales. Redundant and useless. They feigned importance and stubbornness to mask their fragile nature. Laryn plucked a scale, then flicked his tongue twice between his teeth. The scale dropped in a patch of dead leaves. A lone mote of darkness surrounded by death and decay.

Laryn thought of Gregan's mangled corpse. Worms would find his flesh accommodating. But when he looked at his face, a pair of blue eyes stared back. Eyes bearing the color of the sky, and white, snowy hair.

Haran.

Laryn blinked. Visha and Nyx jumped around him. He could almost hear their soft voices as they laughed and taunted him with their delicate hands. Snorting, Laryn buried his nose under a flank. These images. Why did they haunt him so? He needed rest from the flight, the feast, and everything. Growling softly, he settled into a comfortable position. The claws of a hind paw gripped a horn, while the other ducked below the dragon's coiled tail. He closed his eyes. Images came and left, but he ignored them. His focus lay on the chirping of the birds and the rustling leaves until he thought of nothing. Only the faint smell of his musk led his thoughts towards his female. Laryn flicked his tongue, licking over his bulging vent. The tip of his member just emerged from its shelter, greeting his tongue with soft throbs.

Growling softly, Laryn took the straight tip in his maw and waited. The throbs intensified and his length grew, reaching near the base of his fleshy tongue. Laryn coiled it around his member. Jolts of elation fed his throbs as his member spasmed inside the tight grip. Delightful. Thinking of his female, Laryn closed his eyes. He was deep inside her, feeling her tight embrace around his sensitive member. Whenever she squeezed he squeezed, simulating the relentless stimulation. Laryn kept to the ephemeral mounting until his breaths became too greedy and his blood too hot to focus on his fantasy. His tail twitched, sending a shiver of warmth to his clenching tailhole. It was coming. All the pressure coalesced in a single point, traversing through his scale-hard member.

Laryn couldn't hold back the bliss. He uncurled his tongue and roared, nuzzling desperately around his oozing member. Precum started flowing in its earnest, lubricating his snout and wetting his tongue. Laryn licked and rubbed around the tip until every muscle in his body tensed. He snarled, catching the first spurt inside his half-parted maw The hot seed rushed to his throat, offering no relief between the spurts. Kicking his paws, Laryn unleashed his burden, thrusting savagely into the air. Each thrust brought forth a new spasm, and each spasm another wave of fresh seed. Semen splashed against his wing and side with the force of a torrent. Laryn licked around the tip, pushing his tongue around the oozing entrance. The pressure stoked his delight, making the next spurt far more powerful than usual. The jet shattered against his wet tongue, sending drops flying everywhere around. They latched on his flanks, his paws, his head, and even back on his overflowing member.

With bestial greed, Laryn licked every drop between roars of pure pleasure. It was a pity to waste his seed, but it was simply delicious! The taste of his smooth, draconic seed flared his lust, making him all the eager to release. Throbs became softer and lesser until only a sickly cascade flowed from his once-erupting tip. Sniffing around the puddle created underneath, Laryn sneezed, clearing the semen from his nostrils. He was thoroughly covered from eyes to shoulder in a warm, dripping blanket. Licking his snout, he attacked his retreating member with gentle licks. Shivering from the raw stimulation, Laryn licked his closing vent twice and slurped whatever the ground didn't before grooming his other bits. His paws were excellent at catching errant strings, but undoubtedly a bath was a better choice than his own tongue.

When every scale has been thoroughly cleaned, Laryn coiled around, adopting the same sheltering position. With his nostrils pressed against his slit, he huffed a short, pleased snort. He was too relaxed to find a water source, so he fell asleep to the scent and taste of his own, fertile seed.