#bdrpmelaenis

[gothedistance-herc]

Let’s Get Ready to Rumble ⚡ [DHFTJWTHBDEOA]

In which Hercules and Kiki fight a dragon...

@kiki-takesthesky, @melaenis-ficente

[tw -- violence]

KIKI: This morning, Kiki opened her eyes while the dawn pinked outside. The window pane fuzzied with soft shimmering rain, which Kiki knew would be almost all gone by the time she got out of bed and clutched her broom. But it had been relaxing for that minute that Kiki stayed curled in her bed, watching the raindrops trace lines down her window. She thought to herself very peacefully: I’m going to fight a dragon today.

And so she was.

She and Hercules were going to fight a dragon today. She’d gotten dressed quickly, covering her body with black trousers and a black thermal, the thermal magically reinforced to be fireproof-ish (fireproof-ish if only because she didn’t know if it could withstand dragonfire for an extended period of time. It would give her some protection at least and some was better than none.) She filled her pack with all the battle spells she could find. She brought trinkets too, in hopes of bribing the dragon. That was Plan B, really. B for Bribe.

Plan A was to sneak in, get Howl and Calcifer, and get out. Plan C was… fight the dragon.

One of these plans was going to work.

She finished packing her bag just as the rain stopped. Kiki stepped out into the chilly spring morning, clutching at her broom, the magic tingling at her fingertips. Kiki took a deep breath in, her eyes fluttering closed. The wind gathered around her feet and then lifted her, inch by inch, off the ground, and she floated like a flower petal.

She kicked off into the air after and crested over the tops of Swynlake’s quaint shoppes, just as the sunlight turned the sky a tender blue.

It wasn’t a long flight to the quarry, to the thorn wall, to where the dragon was. Kiki saw the thorns below her and glided once around them, squinting through her goggles. She couldn’t see anything. It was all rock and patches of green. If Hercules was there already, he was too small from where she was all the way up in the sky.

So Kiki tilted her broom down and swooped through the treeline, shooting down into the heart of the quarry. As soon as her feet skid against the dusty ground, the magic of this corner of Enchantra unfurled toward her--

Black. Dark. Thick. Kiki gasped a little, stumbling to a stop, but she managed to catch herself. She yanked her goggles up onto her forehead and looked around. Had she beat Hercules here?

There was a rustle. Lots of rustling. Kiki went for her wand and held it out toward the noise, all the snapping and crackling and was that someone’s voice…?

Hercules stumbled out, a few thorns still clinging on his clothes.

“Hercules!” She exclaimed. She put her wand in her pocket and lunged toward him, stopping just short of the hug when she saw-- well, all the thorns. “Oh gosh, those are nasty. Here I can, er--” she got her wand out and wiggled it in the air. The thorns flew toward the golden tip, and then fell to the ground.

HERCULES: Getting to the dragon’s lair on foot wasn’t nearly as nice as taking a lovely little jaunt through the air. Hercules didn’t really mind, though. He liked the forest. He had always liked forests and deserts and places he could go where he wasn’t going to hurt anyone. If he knocked down a tree all the birds and critters generally had plenty of time to get out of the way. In a way, for a boy like Hercules, it was freeing, out of the way of judging eyes.

So, he’d appreciated it.

The walk was brisk and he was full of nervous-excited energy, which just buoyed up higher and higher as he strolled along through the trees. The closer he got the more—optimistic he felt. Which was not really a way Hercules felt often, at least not for himself. But, testing out his abilities with Hades had been weirdly freeing. Being able to see what he could do like that—when it wasn’t hurting anyone. When it was potentially going to help? It had helped him reframe his thinking about his powers, at least a little.

He’d run home to Pegasus that morning, all excited, like a little kid, telling them how he’d been caught on fire that morning and nothing had happened to him! It had been amazing. Kiki had gasped and looked at him adoringly and Hercules ate it up. Every last look. Even Hades and Belle’s confused, curious expressions. He reveled in those too. Because, for once, they weren’t afraid of him. And that was all he’d ever wanted.

Hercules was eager to take down the dragon—or steal the heart—or whatever. Just one taste of something good. Just one time, he needed his powers to work in his favor.

He tore through the thorns that surrounded the dragon’s cave easily, they broke against him and tore at his clothing but didn’t tear at his flesh. They were more annoying than anything.

Eventually, he burst from the thick bracket, right into Kiki’s waiting arms practically. He flinched back as she came towards him like she was going to throw her arms around him—still on instinct when it came to physical touch. At her wand waving, he smiled and let out a breath, running his hand through his hair and dispelling some dirt and grime.

“Er, thanks! How’re you this morning?” he asked, his voice low as he looked towards the entrances of the caves. No doubt the dragon knew they were here. Probably.

“Ready for this?” he asked, leaning in, his eyebrows going up conspiratorially. He was bloody excited.

KIKI: Hercules leaned in, looking handsome in the glow of the morning-- even if he was, er, covered in a bit of dirt and grime. He still looked every part a hero to her. She could see it on him, you know, how he glowed, literally glowed, with confidence. It was like sunlight pouring from everywhere, lighting up his smile, turning the dark iris of his eye almost volcanic. Powerful.

All that confidence made Kiki smile. She was definitely still nervous, the thump-thump-thumping of her heart echoing in the back of her head, but looking at Hercules, it was hard not to feel all of his excitement and remember the way he’d looked lit on fire. If Hercules could survive ambassador fire and crash through all those thorns and still smile like that… he could do anything.

She trusted him. She trusted him with her life.

So Kiki nodded a little, reaching forward to delicately pluck a little leaf that had gotten stuck in his hair. She brought her hand down in front of her, twirling the leaf absentmindedly. “Yes. I-- I think at least. Though before we go in--”

The leaf fluttered to the ground, twirling like a ballet dancer. Kiki had turned to pull something out of the pouch of her backpack. She drew out a long silver chain with a white jewel at the end. It shined like quartz under the sun, throwing scattered rainbows, emanating a powerful, ancient magic. And if you knew how, if you held the jewel in your hand and closed your eyes, you would feel a rhythm moving through it. It was the rhythm of the great oceans of the world.

“This is a family heirloom of the Takayamas,” she said, and she took a step forward, lifting onto her tiptoes so she could drape it over Hercules’ head. “We believe in yin-yang magic-- which means that all magic comes from the interaction of two opposing but complementary forces. This is one of two tide jewels that draw from yin-yang,” she explained.

“That one’s manju, or the tide-flowing jewel. It represents when the tides flow. It centers strength and releases your greatest potential. I have kanju.” She pulled out the chain she was wearing that she’d tucked in her shirt before setting off. It shined a dark, rich obsidian. “It means tide-ebbing. It takes the energy from around you and draws it in. If…” she hesitated, but took a breath and went on. “If the dragon catches us, we might have a chance to bargain. These could buy us our freedom or safety or-- I dunno. Maybe she’ll give back Howl?” She gave a little shrug. “It’s just a back-up to all our back-ups, I guess. Besides, this way, you’ll be at your strongest.” She smiled again and nodded.

And then Kiki looked at the mouth of the cave. It was eerily quiet inside but she knew that it wouldn’t be for long. They’d come in the morning in hopes that the dragon would be tired after a night of hunting or eating. But even a tired dragon was still as powerful as an entire army.

Could one invincible boy and one little witch really do it?

She wrapped her hand around the heirloom that rested over her heart. Kiki was going to choose to believe that they were.

“Okay, I’m um, ready. Let’s go.”

HERCULES: Hercules stiffened when Kiki reached out towards him. Not because he was afraid of her, but still, even with his confidence glowing inside of him, he was afraid that he would hurt her. Just the slightest movement and he could break her fingers without meaning to. So, he stood, a perfect statue, as she grabbed at the leaf.

It was such a sweet gesture, it made Hercules’ heart squeeze. He still wasn’t used to kind gestures like that. People who reached towards him, instead of scrambling away.

He watched her curiously as she dug around in her pack. When the jewel appeared, winking in the sun, Hercules’ couldn’t help the way his eyes widened. He didn’t have much of a Perception, but even he could feel the powerful energy emitting from the stone. Or, maybe, he just convinced himself of that as Kiki spoke. Her words were light, but they were sure and confident and they washed over Hercules, bringing a kind of peace.

The kind that reminded him of when his mom used to tell him bedtime stories. You always felt safe, under the covers like that. She told him of Gilgamesh and Achilles and Bhishma and Beowulf, great heroes of their times and Hercules had gone to bed dreaming of being a hero, just like them.

Kiki’s story reminded him of those stories and those dreams—which had felt so far away, for so long. Now, they were at his fingertips and he was greedy for them—desperate for them.  

You’ll be at your strongest. That would frighten Hercules, usually. Terrify him. But, now, he was excited, eagerly ducking his head to accept the jewel and then reaching up to finger it delicately for a moment, casting its rainbows over the small clearing. Then, he tucked it into his shirt and pressed a hand over it. It was warm against his skin. It almost felt—like it was humming. He wasn’t afraid of crushing it into dust.

“Thank you,” he told her quietly, sincerely. “Yeah, let’s—uh, let’s do this.” He gave her a nod and then a boyish, cocky grin.

KIKI: Kiki took the necklace and tucked it back under her shirt, where it thrummed with the song of the oceans receding, drawing with it the energy of the world. It was an energy she felt crackling around her now...and nowhere else was the pull stronger than the cave in front of them. That magic was thick and dark and imbalanced, a stark contrast to where she stood with Hercules, their auras in harmony.

Imbalanced magic could be vicious, unpredictable-- even strong. But there was always a weakness. And that was why they were going to win, as long as they had each other.

“Stay close to me,” she whispered to Hercules. And then she lifted her chin and walked forward to the cave, her steps light, the wind still whispering at her heel. It was there with her; the wind would not leave her side.

The shadows engulfed them, the smell of forest left behind. Kiki’s foot nudged against something and she paused, looking down at a yellowed bone, long and sinewy, from some kind of creature-- she wasn’t sure what. Kiki drew her foot back and looked up. There were more bones scattered across the ground and mounds of treasure looming in dark shapes just up ahead. The cave smelled thickly of smoke.

She had no idea where the dragon was. Or where to even begin looking.

“Should we...look in the treasure?” she whispered to Hercules. Her eyes were wide and uncertain. “Or call for Howl or-- ”

That won’t be necessary, little witch, hissed a voice inside Kiki’s mind. She gasped, stumbling back a step. Her eyes darted back to Hercules. “Did you--”

Oh yes, I see you too. Quite skinny for a demi-god, aren’t you? And then two red eyes blinked from the darkness and a giant head swooped forward toward the both of them.

Kiki gasped, darting behind Hercules at once and clinging to his arm with her free hand. Smoke churned from the dragon’s mouth as her maw opened, almost like she was smiling at them.

Come for the sorcerer, Lady Takayama? How bold.

“L-let him-- go!” squeaked Kiki. Her nails dug into Hercules’ arm. “Please!” she added.

And why should I do that? Sorcerer and their hearts are hard to come by. Her large eyes blinked at them. Almost as rare as demi-gods. Counter-offer, little witch: leave the son of Diana here for me. And I’ll let you live.

“Wh-wh--no!”

Then I will take him and you will die, said the dragon, and she opened her mouth, the fire glowing hot red in the back of her throat.

HERCULES: Hercules’ heart beat steady in his chest as they entered the darkness. The crystal around his neck clinked against the amulet he wore—the only clue he had of his parents, his heritage. He always wore it. Maybe it would be valuable too, if they needed it. He would give it away if it meant Kiki was safe, if it meant that Howl was freed.

They walked, attempting to be silent, but it was near impossible, even on the cushioned earth. For everywhere there were bones. Hercules crushed them underfoot. His stomach churned with every step and the more the darkness swallowed him, the faster his heart started to go, until it felt like it was going to burst from his chest like a rocket taking off. He could barely see, squinting into that darkness, looking for danger. This was Kiki’s mission. He was just there for cover—back up, protection. Which didn’t bother him, but it set him on edge, muscles taut.

When she spoke, he turned his attention to her only by half, still peering into the darkness.

He thought he saw something move, right before that ancient voice filled his head, like the loud tome of a gong. Hercules stopped in his tracks, stiffening.

A demi-god?

Was she talking about him?

Suddenly, he could make out the shape of a massive head, the size of a car, barreling towards them. Hercules was never one to run—he didn’t have the instinct for it. He’d been hit by cars before. Would a dragon be that much different? If only it snapped him up in her jaws, he thought. And he wasn’t going to let that happen. At least not without a fight.

So, he stood his ground and Kiki ducked behind him. Good, that was good.

His heart was roaring in his ears, louder than the rumbling of the dragon, though her words were as clear as ever.

Son of Diana?

What did the dragon want with him? He was just—an orphan. A magical, indestructible one, but there was nothing this dragon could do that would make him be subservient to her, even if she did want him badly enough to capture him.

He didn’t have time to think fiercely on this, because only seconds later, Kiki was crying and shrieking and suddenly the cave was basked in a red glow. Hercules looking right down that dark, ugly throat. The breath was foul, like burnt flesh and fire. It would take hours for the scent to leave his nostrils.

At the moment, he couldn’t do anything but react.

It happened before he had time to question it. One second, he was staring at that fire, feeling its heat, even on his skin and the next second he’d lurched forwards with a yell and threw his fist towards the behemoth creature.

Hercules had never actually punched anyone or anything before in his life, but the moment of it drove him forwards. The dragon’s head knocked to the side, spitting a puff of flame, and he regained his footing, this time, knocking her in the bottom of her jaw so that her great maw would snap shut.

“Kiki, GO!” he shouted at her, though—go where, he didn’t know. Farther into the cave? Back away again? Either one. Whatever she decided. He would do his best to protect her.

KIKI: The air blistered with the heat of building dragon fire and Kiki thought, this is it. Her heart lurched and free-fell, no wind left to carry it up. The foul breath of the dragon had snatched away the air. It snatched away everything until there was nothing but fire.  

Her heart fell and it fell and it fell and--

There was a loud smash! like rocks tumbling down the landslide. Like thunder, cracking open the sky. Like a rocket going off.

Kiki thought the cave had collapsed around them. But that wasn’t it at all.

That was the sound of Hercules punching a dragon.

“KIKI, GO!” screamed Hercules and Kiki’s magic surged through her, like Hercules’ command had opened up some door and let it loose. It flooded through her, the air alive again as it circled around her feet and blew through her hair. Kiki leapt and the wind took her up, up, and onto her broom.

Kiki flew.

Her broom swept up, almost in a straight line as she soared over the dragon’s head. The quarry’s ceiling was higher than she thought it was having walked under all that dark, her eyes forward and then later down. But now she was looking up: up into the dark, up through the dark, until she saw the glittering of magic crystal, winking and beckoning forward. Kiki reached to the goggles on her forehead and she brought them down, protecting eyes. She reached into her pack and grabbed her wand.

“HIKARI!” shouted Kiki, drawing forth the light charm she’d prepared before. The tip of her wand flooded with light as white as the moon. It dazzled against the colours of the crystals, tossing rainbows across the ceiling.

She heard the dragon roar but Kiki did not look down. She had the wind underneath her, guiding her broom-- she had the magic of the Takayamas grown into the wood of the broom--  and that was all she needed.

“HOWL--!” she cried, zipping through the cave. “HOWL, WHERE ARE YOU! HOWL!”

THE DRAGON: The demi-god’s fist hit the dragon’s jaw like a meteor strike. The fire died in her throat, the dragon’s head jerking to the side, before the fist came again, smashing underneath the dragon’s scaly chin.  

At first, the dragon blinked, almost shocked with the force of the punch. But then the dragon’s lip pulled away from her teeth, saliva pooling in her mouth. She swiveled her head back toward the demi-god, all that power in such an unassuming frame, and she wanted so badly to taste it. Take it. Keep it here.

The dragon was smirking, then. How nice it was to be faced with someone almost her power.

But he was a boy still. He was mortal, still.

She opened her mouth--

The witch streaked through the air.

The dragon roared and this time she did not built the fire. The anger pushed it forth: fire spurting through the dark, turning everything orange as she tried to burn the little gnat and her toothpick-broom to a crisp. But her fire was too slow, the witch flying too nimble. The fire burned through the air, catching the walls, the ceiling on fire, but the witch slipped behind her.

The dragon roared again and whirled around, smashing Hercules with her tail and breathing more fire down through the tunnels of her cave.

She lurched toward the witch.

HERCULES: There wasn’t really time to think. There was only time to react. Hercules could only think so far as his next move. Not that he had any idea what that was. Hercules had never fought anyone before. The most he’d done was shove that kid that had been bullying Meg. And he’d learned that day that he shouldn’t touch other people—whether in anger or otherwise.

He had never unleashed his full power before. Not on purpose.

So, he stared in shock for a second as he watched the dragon rear backwards and shake her head. He’d just punched a dragon. And the dragon had felt it.

Hercules felt powerful.

For once, his magic was doing good. (And really, he didn’t want to kill the dragon or anything like that, just wanted to keep Kiki safe, and get Howl back.) That joy ricocheted through him, as he glanced up, though it didn’t last long as the dragon roared, loud enough to shake the floor beneath his feet, and even he winced, ducking to the side and covering his ears.

When he looked back up, the dragon was blowing fire at Kiki. His heart lurched in his chest as he watched the orange snap at the end of her broom, but Kiki was too fast.

“GO, KIKI!” he whooped then, and it wasn’t a warning, it was encouragement.

Unfortunately, this distracted him, and the dragon turned, faster than he thought a beast like her would be able to move, and her tail caught him, slamming him into the cave wall, making the entire thing groan and tremble with the force.

The dragon was chasing Kiki.

Hercules didn’t even think. He was barely winded by the hit (though, he did feel it like a rattle in his bones). Reaching out, he grabbed onto the dragon’s tail, its slick scales hard to get purchase on, but he dug his fingers in deep. And, then, he began to pull her backwards. One step at a time. The dragon roared and thrashed, but Hercules kept his feet planted on the ground, dragging her slowly, her claws making an awful sound as they turned up the stone of the cave into gravel.

KIKI: Kiki whizzed through the air, the crackle of fire right on the tail of her broom. She heard the pop and hiss, smelled the acrid smoke, felt the heat as it tried to bite at her boot heel. But Kiki jerked the broom up, and then down, dodging the flames as they reached for her. She didn’t even have to look back to know, she just knew--

No, her broom knew. It waas her broom, dazzling with the magic of all the Takayamas who had flown before her. It bobbed and weaved as though it could predict the way the flames would lick next. And so Kiki looked forward into the darkness, her wand scattering light into the tunnel, and she left those flames behind.

Leaving Hercules behind.

She flew farther away, her heart pounding. And she couldn’t look back, no matter how worried she was. She couldn’t look back. She told herself not to look back.

THE DRAGON: The dragon was jerked back. The force of the pull came from behind her and was like nothing she’d felt in years-- for men, all men, were rats to her. They hit her with their tiny metal sticks and it did little more than sting. But she felt this. Her claws gave way, scraping groves into the tough stone ground as the demi-god pulled and pulled.

As though she were a little worm he was fishing out of a hole. The dragon was no worm.

She roared in her anger, dousing the tunnel in front of her with more flame, but then lifted her tail up, dislodging the pest from the ground. She swung it down. She smashed him. She smashed him again, and again. She bent her neck around, trying to snap him from the end of her tail, but the cave was higher than it was wide and there wasn’t enough space. She whirled her tail again-- smash, smash, smash. She’d crush him into little pieces, and if she couldn’t, then she’d knock him unconscious and store him in a cave made from her own scales, one that even he would be unable to break.

But the little light was getting further into the cave and she couldn’t have that, could she?

I don’t have time for YOU! She hissed and she raked him through her mounds of treasure until she felt those iron grips of his release.

And then the dragon pushed off into the air and roared after the witch.

HERCULES: Even Hercules could feel the heat. It pushed back towards him like a physical wave. The smoke was in his lungs and it burned in a way he was unfamiliar with, but it wasn’t enough to make him let go. It wasn’t enough to make him stop. Even as sweat pooled above his eyebrow, dripping down into his eyes, making them sting.

He hung on with all his might, knowing that Kiki wasn’t going to stand a chance if he couldn’t subdue the dragon.

His feet were planted firmly, or so he thought—

There was just a moment’s warning, the dragon’s roar deafening, even to his ears. And then, he was jerked upwards towards the ceiling. Hercules felt all his insides scrambling, heart plummeting down, stomach jumping up. He may be relatively invincible, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t immune to motion sickness or vertigo.

His eyes squeezed shut and he did all he could to hang on.

He crashed into the wall, the cave trembling and he felt the impact, his head snapping backwards. The rocks tore at his clothing. Still, he hung on.

Up. Down. Right. Left. Until he couldn’t determine what was up or down, or right or left.

The only thought that he clung to was that if the dragon was thrashing about like this, dealing with him, it meant that she wasn’t dealing with Kiki—and that was all he wanted.

Suddenly, the angle changed and Hercules was being dragged along the ground with an awful clatter of gold and bone and other items. They knocked him over the head and scraped against his hands, until he hit something hard enough that he felt his grip slipping and he tumbled to the earth, rolling several times.

He lay there panting for a moment, his body sorer than he’d ever felt it in his life. His muscles actually burned.

Once more, he was tossed backwards as the dragon launched into the air after Kiki.

Smashing into the side wall, he felt the whole cave tremble. He could only see the dragon. Not Kiki. There was no way he could catch the dragon, she was too far, and his powers were not super speed. Feeling desperate, Hercules looked around for something he could throw—anything at all. But, nothing was big enough to do any damage.

Hercules looked back at the wall, his brow furrowed.

There wasn’t time to consider the consequences. There was only time to act. Hopefully Kiki had a far enough head start.

Please, please, he thought to himself.

With a cry, he made a fist with one hand, clutching it with the other before he twisted his body like he was swinging a bat. His fist connected with the wall, and, immediately, a shower of rock began to fall, the cave giving a mighty roar itself as it began to crumble around them.

THE DRAGON: For the dragon, the flight to the witch was nothing. She might be small and speedy, but one flap of her wings and she’d have crossed half the length. It was all she needed, and then she’d have the witch wiggling between her teeth, before she swallowed her down in one gulp. She’d be as tasty as the sorcerer from a year ago. Her power would crackle in the dragon’s blood until she was intoxicated with that power.

What a delicious appetizer before she made a meal out of the demi-god next.

And so the dragon opened her mouth, tail lashing in the air. She didn’t see the curtain of rocks until they toppled on top of her. Her roar turned into a sharp, high-pitched scream, and she hit the ground, shaking the cave again.

KIKI: She knew the dragon was coming for her. She felt the cave shake and tremble and she heard that awful roar, so loud it felt like it was coming from everywhere. It was the roar that told her Hercules might be lost behind her. Had he been swallowed? Knocked to the side? Torn in half? She wanted to look back. Kiki’s fists tightened on her broom and the urge to loop around and zip the other way nearly overtook her, enough that she felt her broom give a tiny jerk up like it might do exactly this. Because her broom knew what was in her heart. Hercules was there. As sure as the necklaces thrummed with the rhythm of Hercules’ pendant too.

And it was that pendant that kept her from turning around. Because if hers was still alive with that rhythm, she had to believe Hercules was alive too.

So Kiki flew straight, leaning over her broom and urging it to go fast, faster, as fast as she’d ever gone. Hot air rushed over her from behind. Dragon’s breath on her neck. Don’t look back, Kiki, she repeated to herself again.

She looked forward, and saw the crack as it snaked across the ceiling and broke the cave in two.

Kiki only had enough time for her lips to open, a shout in her throat, before the rocks tumbled all around her. Her broom zipped right, then left, then right, before a rock caught her in the back of her skull. She slipped off her broom and fell through the air.

She felt the cushion of wind gather around her, as though it were hands guiding her to the ground. She heard the roar of the oceans of the world in her ears.

And right before Kiki closed her eyes, she thought Hercules’ name.

HERCULES: Part of the cave collapsed. Some of the rocks tumbled down on top of Hercules but he put his arms above his head and most of the falling debris broke against his arms.

When it was all said and done, the silence was deafening. There was only the pitter-patter of pebbles settling. There was no more roaring of a dragon. Nothing moved.

“Kiki!” Hercules called and he started forwards, stumbling and tripping over rocks as he went, but he ran anyway. He climbed over the largest mound of rocks, where the scales of the dragon glinted, even in the darkness. Parts of her peeked through the rubble, but she didn’t move, except to breathe. Which meant she was alive—probably knocked out. Hercules didn’t begin to think that a small rockslide was going to keep her down for long.

He went passed most of the rocks, hoping that Kiki had missed the worst of it. He stood on the top and raised his crystal into the air, looking for any sign of Kiki. It glowed to faintly, but it was still glowing. His heart was pounding and he was actually breathing heavy, feeling more exhausted than he ever had in his life. But, he needed to find Kiki. And fast. So, he ignored the fatigue.

After a few moments, he noticed her broom, lying discarded among the stones. With a smile of relief, he started in that direction and without much forethought, began heaving the rocks off the pile near the broom.

He didn’t know how long it took him, but by the time, he was dizzy with fatigue. Sweat covered his arms and back and chest and dribbled into his eyes, stinging them (or was that tears?) But, eventually, he uncovered Kiki. First the flash of her shirt, and then her slender neck—covered in blood. Then her face and body. He pulled the rocks off fast and, hesitated for just a moment before grasping her wrist gently and pulling her from the wreckage.

Hercules gathered her as softly as he could in his arms, doing his best to support her head and hold her steady. He didn’t know how injured she was, just that she was, and it wasn’t good. And he was going to have to run through the forest—miles, to get back to town, close enough to get help. The task felt impossible.

Kiki felt heavy in his arms.

He stepped forwards and heard a snap!

Flinching, Hercules squinted, peering down through the darkness. And there, wedged between two rocks, was Kiki’s broom, hanging at an angle—like a tree branch snapped in a storm.

Hercules’ stomach rolled and he felt tears sting his eyes, but there was no time to salvage it. Instead, he adjusted Kiki and his arms and started to run.

[labellerose-acheron]

A Woman True and Fair *** [Mel-Belle]

@melaenis-ficente

Belle clutched her Christmas-birthday gift from Howl tight to her chest as she started up the vaguely familiar path to Melaenis’ little cottage, not far from Belle’s own house. 

She was not--nervous, per se. She had known Melaenis long enough to know that this was probably going to be a hard sell, mostly because Mel was not going to listen to a silly little Mundus girl who knew nothing about magic. Except, Belle did know something about magic. She knew about magic, and she most certainly knew about love, because Belle loved hard when she did--and she loved Howl, dreadfully so. She didn’t want anything to happen to him.

And even if she didn’t know a thing about magic--Calcifer had warned her and Calliope had confirmed her fears. Whatever was happening to Howl was not something that he could fix on his own.

And, it needed to be fixed.

It needed Melaenis to help fix it. Belle just had to convince her that was the case. Which she knew would be difficult. So, she wasn’t nervous but maybe--the task felt a little daunting. Because Belle liked Melaenis. She respected her. But, she also knew her reputation and didn’t want to be on the wrong side of it. The last thing she needed was another powerful being who disliked her.

So, she climbed the steps of that rickety little cottage and she knocked on the door, pushing down the not-nerves and taking a deep breath, lifting her chin a little and flexing her fingers once again around the spine of the book.

[thestrength-of-thewolf-blog]

The Witch’s Brew -||- [Alpha Dragon]

@melaenis-ficente

The witch had requested that they meet at her cottage. She had given him the directions and he had followed them with ease. What was a wolf if they did not possess a sense of direction, after all?

He would have preferred to meet in the woods, but one thing that Akela had learned long ago about witches in particular was that you did not say no to them unless absolutely necessary. So, fine, let her entertain him with her imported tea and vegetables from her garden. He brought nothing with him but himself, for the friendship of an Alpha was a valued thing, and he knew that she knew this.

Her house was easy to sniff out, for it stunk of magic. Dark magic that cloyed at the back of his throat, but the sweeter magic, too, of an unruly and wild sort. That was the dragon’s magic, which still clung about the witch’s shoulders and made him more comfortable with her than he was with most humans.

She had a carnal understanding that he could appreciate.

When he arrived, he did not knock, simply waited.

“Hello, Melaenis,” he said, as pleasantly as he could allow while keeping his stoic exterior. “Thank you for the invitation, it is not often that a witch opens her home to my kind. Your hospitality is appreciated.”

Not often, indeed. Back home, wolves were of the evilest sort. Vile villains. Demons. Bloodthirsty beasts out to ruin lives. Even the sorcerers (who were well respected around many secluded areas) did not take kindly to being neighbors with the wolves, and often perpetuated such rumors as so to keep their positions as village protectors and shamans.

[delightinginthunder-blog]

Confrontation ⚡ [Meus]

Zeus gets wind of Mel’s egg. Things get...stormy... [tw gore, violence, and death]

ZEUS: A month ago; when all that black magic had poured out into the sky, Zeus had awoken from a fitful sleep with a start. He’d felt it, thick as black smoke around him and he knew that something dark had happened.

He’d heard about the fire at the Inn and he’d been able to put it together then—Yubaba’s magic had broken. Snapped, harsh and violent, and disappeared from this world. Which was a good thing, even he wasn’t stupid and he knew that Yubaba had been toxic waste to this place, her magic cloying in the air anywhere near her little Inn. The magic was old and powerful and Zeus had known better than to face her alone. He also knew that breaking the magic would’ve taken a great deal of black magic to combat it and immediately, he’d suspected Melaenis.

This time, though, he didn’t charge up to her house. He waited, he plotted, he stayed quiet.

When Dikaios informed him that Melaenis had smuggled something very round and very blue to an enchanted door; Zeus knew that there had been consequences to Yuababa’s defeat. There always were. So, he’d had Dikaios keeping tags on the woman for the past week. She entered the forest every day around the same time, in the evening, just as the sun was setting—as the air was cooling.

It did not take long before Zeus could not stand it any longer. The possibility that Melaenis had bitten off more than she could chew itched under his skin and made him restless. He told his wife his suspicions. That Melaenis was up to something and he wasn’t sure what, but that he was going to try and stop it—or, at least, figure out what exactly it was.

He’d wrapped himself in a cloak full of ingredients, premixed and ready to be shaken into the sky. Flashes of hot anger and full-body laughter for lightning; storm clouds made of tears gathering on lids that hadn’t fallen; rain made from the meandering path of a child’s first steps; thunder that existed in the pounding of a heart, scorned and broken by love (a truly rare ingredient, as one had to be in just the right time to capture it. Zeus had only three in his possession and he hoped he wouldn’t have to use this one.) The greatest ingredient was that of the winds—which he’d gathered from the words stolen (kisses and coughs and sneezes that chopped off sentences and swept them away—also tricky to procure. It was all about the timing.) If he released them; they’d be powerful enough to blow down trees; combined with the tears—he could create a cyclone between his strong hands.

It wouldn’t not come to that, of course.

Melaenis was prompt—and from his hiding spot beneath his concealment charm, he followed Mel silently into the trees until they parted to reveal the mouth of a cave. It wasn’t very deep and from the entrance, he could spot the glint of a gemstone behind Mel’s crouched form. At once his concealment charm dropped and his eyebrows rose as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Been busy since we last spoke, haven’t we Ms. Ficente?”

MELAENIS: Every day, sunset came, and Melaenis headed back into the woods toward her brood, with the heart of the dragon growing larger and larger in her chest. She had smuggled it away into a cave, built protection charms and concealment charms around it so its dark pulsing aura might be hidden from talented Magicks, and spent every night with it as a mother should. Sometimes she was Melaenis, and she watched over it with her human eyes, inquisitive and scientific as she took notes, measuring its temperature fluctuations and its size. She told herself she kept the egg alive for the sake of knowledge-- for her curiosity, not her love. Other times, the dragon missed her offspring so much, worried herself too frantic, and Mel let the dragon take over, curling around the egg so it was nestled right up against the dragon’s soft underbelly.

She tried to minimize the dragon’s time. She tried to keep a wall between herself and the beast, as she always had over the years. But with the coming of the egg, the wall had practically crumbled, and Mel felt she and the dragon were practically one. She could feel the dragon’s love for the egg bleed over into the rest of her, until she was stroking its stony form and letting her magic spark over it like raindrops.

She wondered if the child inside knew she was there. She wondered if the child missed her when she was gone. She wondered if the child could hear her-- when she spoke out loud to herself, or when she spoke to it-- when she hummed lullabies from a time long ago, lullabies that had belonged to her mother.

She wondered if it would hatch, if she was moderating its temperature right, if she should spend more time hidden in the cave with it, as the dragon, so it would not feel alone.

She wondered if this was the right thing to do, or if she should have perhaps tried to destroy the eg.. The dragon always answered that question with a fierce, resounding yes.

She wondered, if the egg hatched, if her child would be as beautiful and terrible as she dreamed it would be.

On this night-- nine days since the arrival of the egg--Melaenis flew eagerly to the egg, with questions she had to answer, her list at the ready. She entered the cave, and upon seeing the egg still nestled in the magically-enchanted firepit she’d created for it, felt her heart ease and her body fill with relief. Leaving the egg was always so hard. She’d never felt so much joy as she did when she returned and saw it safe.

“Hello,” she greeted it with a little chuckle, stepping right over to the firepit. She slipped out of her shoes so she might step on the hot, burning coals (which did not bother Mel one bit), the flames jumping and growing as she did, for they responded to the presence of her magic. Kneeling, she stroked the egg. “Look at you tonight,” she murmured. The blue glimmered bright, closer to sapphire than ever.

She’d been so eager to see her egg, she’d not paid attention to the tiny signature of magic that had followed her here. She did not feel the magic fall away, or Zeus’s own signature appear.

Not until his voice.

She stiffened then, her veins filling with dread that was thick and black as tar-- as thick and black as her black magic.

Slowly, she rose from where she was kneeling and turned around to see the man at the entrance of the cave with the burning sunset at his back. Melaenis lifted her chin.

“Ah, Zephyr,” she said. And then she chuckled.

She was laughing at herself. Truly, she was a fool. She had forgotten about Zeus’s presence in the town, or had simply underestimated it. She should have known that a sorcerer of his caliber would have sensed the egg’s arrival upon the Harvest Moon (all that black magic thick in the air) and would want to investigate. She should have taken extra precaution. She should have created a much more complex spell for the hiding of her egg.

For once, she had to admit it-- her arrogance had gotten the better of her.

“I should have known you’d come for another visit,” she said after the slight pause. This isn’t what it looks like, she wished she could say, but-- well, it was. And he would want to take the egg from her. Or destroy it.

Neither of these options could happen. She would not let him.

“Have you come to...discipline me?” she said and raised her eyebrows.

ZEUS: The chuckle bounced around the walls of the cave, the sound tripping over itself like water boiling in a pot. The vibrations of them knocked about in the air and Zeus tried to determine what kind of laughter it was—self-depreciation, I’ve-got-a-secret, you-think-you-can-beat-me?

It wasn’t easy to pinpoint, especially as it echoed through the darkened cavern, danced like the flames from the pit on the walls. There was a smoke that curled up from the fire; making everything within the cave hazy, but Zeus could still make out the outline of an egg just behind Mel. He couldn’t help his own intrigue and curiosity. He wanted to get closer. Wanted to examine it, it was, after all, such an unprecedented thing and Zeus smelt the opportunity ripe on the air. Maybe if he couldn’t feel the steady pulsing of black magic surrounding and within those thing dark blue walls of the shell, he might feel more inclined to letting Mel keep it.

As it was—it could not continue existing. Zeus knew that and he knew Mel knew it too.

But, mothers never were rational when it came to their young.

Zeus felt the tension in the air, but he kept his form casual. He did not want this to end in a fight; not because he wasn’t confident he would win, but, because he did not want a fight. A fight would be exhausting and a drain on his resources. Resources which were better used elsewhere. Then again, what was a better use for something than the defeat of vile, black things that tainted the world? That egg was an abomination. It should not exist. It disrupted the order and balance of things.

“Do I need to?” Zeus asked carefully, dark eyes trailing over Mel’s face before darting to the egg.  

MELAENIS: She stayed put, standing firm, straight and all in front of her brood. She saw the sorcerer as his eyes darted to try to get a better glimpse of it, but she wouldn’t let him. The dragon was already knocking on her chest. She wanted to meet Zeus for herself, but not before she hid the egg entirely behind her massive, black body.

This wasn’t going to end well. This was going to end in fire. Mel knew it. Did Zeus know it, yet? Or did he think he could reason with her?

There could be no compromises here. Even if Mel wanted to compromise-- the dragon did not.

“No,” she said swiftly then. She lifted her chin and met his eyes and did not cower, did not blink. “What you’ve found here is exactly what it looks like-- a dragon’s egg and nothing more.” It was a lie but she was hoping-- even if the egg reeked of the dark magic which had brought it forth, perhaps the Zephyr sorcerer would not know of its true hybrid nature, for if he sensed demon magic inside it, she doubted anything she said would persuade him from its destruction.

“It’s not a danger to anyone like this. It’s entirely defenseless.”

Another lie. It wasn’t.

It had its mother.

ZEUS: Oh, he knew all right. That that thing was not just a simple dragon’s egg. And even if it was, it was more than a little illegal to own a dragon’s egg. They were fiercely protected creatures. Some of the rarest of all magical beasts--which was a shame, since the were so beautiful and intelligent. They used to exist in every corner of the world, but now, having been hunted for centuries their numbers had never properly recovered. It was a great crime to take one from the wild. Whatever it was Mel had done though--that was a greater crime still.

He knew things could possibly get ugly and fast. If his suspicions were correct and Mel had performed more dark magic...her shadow-beast would be close to the surface, ready to fight. Zeus was confident he could take on the dragon, but, he would rather not.

“Don’t play me for a fool, Melaenis. That is no ordinary dragon’s egg and we both know it. Tell me what you are doing with it and how it came to be in your possession. You cannot say it is no danger, because you do not know that.”’

MELAENIS: Well, she had tried. No one could fault her for that.

She took a small step to the side to position herself fully in front of the egg. She wanted to take a step back too, but that would push her closer to the wall. She needed an escape plan. But there was only one exit and the sorcerer was blocking it. If it came down to it-- she’d have to force her way out that way. She would have to go through him.

It wouldn’t be easy. But when did that ever stop Melaenis Ficente from trying?

“You’re making a lot of assumptions,” she responded, the heat entering her voice. Should she lie? She barely even considered it-- no. There was no wiggling her way out of this, no matter what she said.

She would not cower or kiss ass, not now.

“I do know,” she went on. “I’m the egg’s mother. It’s mine. I made it. So if you think you’re getting your dirty little hands on it, think again.” Her eyes flashed scarlet and then her voice grew softer. Deadly soft. “I would advise you turned around, Zephyr, and left the way you came.”

ZEUS: Zeus couldn’t help the way his eyebrows sprung up in surprise at Mel’s admission.

It’s mother?

Now, that. That was a troubling thing indeed. It changed everything in a split second.

Mostly because that meant the thing was definitely of dark magic. Something that should not exist in this realm or any realm, really. Yet, it also meant that Melaenis would protect it with her life. That meant irrationality. And there was nothing more dangerous than irrationality. It meant that Melaenis could not be reasoned with. Zeus knew that--immediately, instinctively. And he felt all his ingredients rumbling and warm in his coat pockets. That laughter and rage burning hot. He could feel his magic in the tips of his fingers. He would have to be quick, he would have to strike fast--destroy the egg in one swoop and deal with the aftermath later.

“You know I can’t do that,” Zeus said, voice sharp as flint and strong as steel.

And the thing was: Zeus couldn’t. He knew that he was, perhaps, outmatched, but he could not stand aside and let something so evil brew in the bowels of Swynlake. Even if he could retreat and come up with a strategy, he knew it would be no good--Mel would change the egg’s location, take greater care to hide it with enchantments that would take months to unravel. Months that may be too late. This was his one chance. And he had to take it.

His crossed arms got a hold of his wand in one hand and around the vial of laughs and rage in the other. Quick as lightning (ha), he’d whipped out both, flinging the stopper off so that the lightning crackled and sizzled at the end of his wand. With a practiced, precise hand--he directed the flash of electricity towards the egg on its pyre. It curved around Melaenis--close enough that the white-blue charges flickering off it could easily catch her in the side.

The lightning, for just a moment--lit up the entire cave in brilliant white light--making Mel’s skin glow pale and the red of her eyes sharp as rubies.

MELAENIS: You know I can’t do that.

He would regret this noble attitude of his. She’d make him regret it.

The lightning flashed and Mel at once fell to the ground, her hands pressing into the hot coals of the fire pit. Magic burst from inside her, sparking on the ground. She had a single thought in her mind, which was to protect. Protect her egg. Protect the child within it. Protect, protect, protect.

The coals transformed, from hundreds of rocks into one mighty steel wall, that sprang up around the egg, encasing it inside. The transmutation had its price: the lightning hit the metal wall and instantly crackled and spread through the entire cave in a flood of electricity. Mel felt the shock enter her bones, felt it tremble through the cave floor-- even Zeus might feel the lightning as it was redirected.

Mel could only cry out briefly as the electricity traveled through her body, making her hot and numb all at once. Her entire body tingled as she hunched on the ground. And for that second, she couldn’t move-- swore she could hear some sort of ringing in her ears-- and then her shoulders began to shake.

She was laughing.

When she looked up, the dragon was awake and alive in Mel’s eyes. “Not going to even challenge me to a proper duel, Zephyr?” she laughed at him as she rose to her feet and then drew her wand from her robes. “I didn’t take you for a cheat.”

She was still shaking-- twitching-- from the electricity. But her steel walls behind her held strong.

Mel flourished her wand again and sent a curse flying straight at Zeus, one that would turn him into something she could squish.

ZEUS: Zeus had just a moment to steel himself before the electricity entered his bones—freezing him to the spot and shaking him up inside. Everything sizzled and burned and he bit through his tongue until it bled, unable to control the contraction of his muscles.

It left him panting and disoriented—weak for a few moments while his heartbeat regulated.

The hesitation was enough time for Mel to get to her feet and brandish her wand from beneath her robes. Her words did nothing to taunt him. Zeus knew he was in the right. There were no rules when it came to the demolishment of dark magic—only that it should be destroyed. No hesitation necessary, or very well required.

He dropped down to a knee, feeling his magic pulsing hot and steady through his veins. The lightning strengthened his heart, made it feel ten times its size. Made his magic sizzle and crackle beneath his skin. In the same fluid movement—he reached into his robes and popped the lid from the winds, tipping the silvery blue substance out until it burst towards Melaenis. There was a rush-roaring sound in the cave now, as Melaenis’ clothes were tosses and ripped about.

Zeus had a hand up, steadily directing the wall of fierce air towards the walls—trying to beat them down, trying to get around them. Perhaps the egg would fall from its perch and break on its own. The lightning still snapped and zapped along the steel walls, along the floor too—clinging to the moisture of the cave, catching on updrafts of wind and sparking into lightning bolts that scattered the cave with bursts of light. His other hand closing in a fist, he tried to guide the wandering bolts to Melaenis’ feet.

“I don’t want to hurt you!” he shouted over the gale. “That egg must be destroyed and you know it!”

MELAENIS: He dodged the curse, but Melaenis took a step forward and threw another one his way, wasting no time in its casting. But the curse got blown into the ceiling of the cave as the wind swept her way. She was thrown back, landed hard on the ground as the wind roared through the cave in a gust strong enough to bring tears to her eyes.

The lightning shocked her again, peeling another cry from her lips. The dragon in her chest roared. She felt its claws, its teeth-- the shadow awoken. With each cycle of the lightning through her nervous system, the dragon tossed its head and roared again. All the magic crackling in the air made it excited and hungry-- and the pain made it angry--

She twitched on the ground and rolled away from the fresh lightning bolts that danced her way. The rocks pinched and stabbed into her skin and then she hit the other wall.

But the steel walls around her egg had stayed steady-- her magic firm and the walls rooted to the ground and the ceiling. Her egg would be safe. Until the magic broke, it would be safe. Or if Mel herself perished.

She wouldn’t be doing that.

She had no ingredients. She had no prepared spells. All she had was her raw magic, and her finely honed specialty. But that wasn’t nothing.

She gripped her wand harder then sent another curse, but not at Zeus this time. She sent the transmutation at the rocks of the cave wall and they transformed. 

A wolf leapt from the wall and bit into Zeus’s casting wrist and began to drag him out of the cave.

ZEUS: There was a part of Zeus that felt bad for the sound of pain that roared out of Melaenis. But, the wind caught it up and tossed it away, giving him only a momentary flash of guilt. Overall, he did not hesitate in this matter. It was the right thing to do—destroying that egg. He could not let it be unleashed on the town. Could not let it hurt his precious wife.

Zeus did spare a thought for Hera now as Mel writhed on the ground, scrambling to get her feet under her again. He did not feel pity for the woman as he watched her, she’d brought this on herself.

He did, however, feel sorrowful for his wife. Certainly this informal duel would get upturned noses from fellow sorcerers, would—whatever the outcome—cause a stir in town. And his poor wife, with her golden hair and head held high—would have to endure more rumors and more pain because of him. But—this was what was right and good. Hera would understand that. They had worked together towards what was right and what was good for years now. She would know; and he would apologize and make it up to her.

All these thoughts were just a flash, more of a feeling really, warm in his heart as he stood—defensive, tall, and strong—waiting for Mel to make a move.

And a move it was.

Zeus had hardly any time to react properly as a wolf sprung, fully formed from the rocks and bared its teeth. The thing was massive with a snarling mouth full of sharp teeth. In one leap it sprang towards him, rearing back on its massive paws and sinking those fangs into his forearm. A cry tore from Zeus’ lips as he jerked his hand back. The wolf thrashed its head—Zeus felt tendons and muscle ripping, tearing, the searing pain shooting up his arm and exploding in his chest. The wolf began to drag him backwards—but still, Zeus fought.

With his freehand, he got hold of the rain and let it spring free—a jet of water that went directly towards Mel’s chest, though it only hit her in the side before the wolf jerked Zeus’ arm, sending his wand the opposite direction and the rain exploded against the wall, swirling with the wind, becoming sharp as needles as it fell from the ceiling—coating everything in a sheet of white water.

MELAENIS: She had her wand pointed at the wolf, the connection between the creature and her own magic alive and thrumming viciously, its heartbeat Mel’s heartbeat, its ferocity Mel’s ferocity. And she was not thinking simply disarm. She was thinking Maim. Devour. Kill. Kill. Her eyes flashed their furious red and the lightning still crackled at her feet, but at this point, the dragon had come to her aide. She might twitch, but she didn’t fall. The dragon curled her lip back as she smiled at Zeus and his pain.

The jet of water hit her hard as a wall though and her body jerked. Her hand flew back and she hit the wall again, but the jerking motion just made the wolf jerk too-- back and back dragging him out of the cave.

And in the cave, it began to rain.

It began to do more than that. The wind and the rain began to swirl together, thickening into a dark grey cloud. The cave was acting as a kind of terrarium, encasing the cloud and letting it grow and grow. Within seconds, the cloud spilled rapidly both back, deeper into the cave, and outside of it.

Mel, soaked through, had to get out of here.

She sprang to the walls she had created to encase the egg and the tip of her wand lit on fire. She scalded a protection rune into it, working fast and with broad strokes before Zeus could attack her again-- but her wand, of course, kept going out with the gushing rain, he rune half finished—

ZEUS: The wolf being flung had Zeus plunging to his knees, scraping against the rocks and still the wolf attacked, growling and snarling. He cried out again, watching as blood mixed with rain on the brown rock. With his wand—he stabbed the wolf hard in the eye, puncturing a hole and making the creature yelp and release Zeus’ arm.

Cradling the mangled flesh against his stomach, he stood again, kicking the wolf hard in the throat before he dashed into the growing cloud.

He couldn’t really see Mel, but, he could feel the magic she was trying to create pulsing even over the roar of his storm and he let it guide him too her.

Zeus was soaked through—the wolf was lost in the downpour and the wind but Zeus heard it searching for him anyways. There was a little flash of light, not the bright white electricity of the lightning that still flashed near him—close enough to singe his clothes.

It was a warm, orange light—and Zeus saw Mel illuminated in it. She was close enough he could almost reach out and grab her, and he saw she was trying to put a charm on the box she’d created. With a painful jerk of his arm, Zeus redirected a bolt of lightning onto the top of the box again—a bright flash of light blinding the both of them for a moment as electricity filled all corners of the cage, freezing Zeus’ muscles in his body again as they constricted painfully.

MELAENIS: Even the dragon could not keep the tip of Mel’s wand lit. And so she dropped the wand. She did not hear it clatter, not over the roaring wind and the patter of the rain. It was lost in the water, which was already deep enough to cover the lip of Mel’s shoes. She could barely see through it. But still she pressed on and this time she attacked the steel with her own claws-- a hand transformed, black and scaly, with the dragon claws glowing white in the flash of each lightning strike.

She dragged the circle closed just as the lightning bolt speared her through. Another cry left her lips, but this one sounded like an animal. Her body convulsed before she fell back into the water. Her vision blurred, then blacked, Mel slipping out of consciousness.

But what she could see before the black was a form headed toward the steel walls, toward her child—

“NO!” She opened her mouth to scream and the dragon roared alive.

The storm could not beat back the fires of the Underworld as they erupted around Mel’s meager, limp form against the puddling cave floor. Instead, it turned the water to steam as the dragon burst to life, breathing fire through the rain, through the clouds, through the wind, and toward Zeus.

ZEUS: Zeus saw his chance.

And Zeus took it.

There was one ingredient left in his possession now: heartbeat of a scorned lover—one of three in his collection. The heartbeat inside the vile beat alongside his own. Just as strong, just as sure. He could feel it in his hand as he withdrew it from his cloak as he made his way towards the egg, steps determined—even if they were on shaky legs.

He uncorked it and had just a moment, where he felt the hot, pulsing ingredient in his hand. Zeus heard the brontide rumble in his ears—an orchestra warming up between his fingers, the drumroll to a finale, beginning and end coalesced into one moment.

It was a pure sound, low and powerful, and he knew, if he released it—the lightning would be strong enough to blow that ring apart. If he could just get inside of that circle—if he could just get his hand around that egg.

Instead, Mel roared—the sound drowning out that of the thunder in his hand and Zeus whirled to the side where he saw the massive, black beast—with eyes like fire and hot, sticky breath which curled the water into a hiss as it breathed. He saw the swirl of fire gather at the back of its throat, the glint of its sharp white teeth and the sound of it like the loudest of rushing winds.

The thunder dropped to the floor, where it exploded into a deafening BOOM! that could be heard, he was sure, all the way back in town.

Zeus’ heart beat hard in his ears—louder than the thunder like if it just beat hard enough, it could save him for what was to come.

He felt the heat of the inferno, even through the cool water pouring onto his head.

There was just a moment—

Zeus thought:

I’ve made a mistake.

Hera.

And then—everything was red and hot and sharp, until there was nothing.  

[swynlakes-fairygodmother-blog]

Duties and Obligations ~*~ [Fairy/Mel]

It was a good thing Fairy always brought a pair of sneakers with her into work. She never knew when a one Rodmilla Tremaine would come marching into her office demanding to know what she had done about the snow storm. Which was to say: not a lot, except go around making sure all the store owners were happy with the fixes that were being made and paid for by the city. Most places had been satisfied (and minimally damaged, thank fairies). The bookkeeper had refused to allow the city to fix the hole in her wall (how it’d got there was a complete mystery and Miss Beauton hadn’t been helpful divulging information) but she’d always been an odd one, and Fairy figured as long as she’d tried, that was all there was to do.

But, she had neglected the very large part of her duty—which had been to go speak to Melaenis about it. Not something to look forward to. The last time she’d gone, it had only served to piss the woman off and Fairy almost left well—not Fairy, probably some sort of insect that Mel would’ve been entertained to see scuttle around her floor. It was a good thing she wasn’t an idiot, and had a few tricks up her own sleeves. You didn’t go into the lion pit without armor (read: protection spell.) Not that Mel had actually tried to cast something on her, Fairy’d made her way out before it escalated that far…

It did not mean the sorceress would be glad to see her making her way up the path to her little cottage. She wished she could still be wearing her heels, but she refused to get them dirty—too expensive, and not worth it. Sneakers would do just fine (plus, easier to run if Mel did decide to come after her). It wasn’t that she didn’t like Mel, the woman was a powerful witch, and she could admire that. But she needed an attitude check sometimes and to not get so damn insulted.

Fairy came to a stop a few feet from the front door, knowing (from experience) that knocking would just send her onto her ass in about the same spot she was standing now. Instead, this time, she picked up a rock, bouncing it lightly in her hand once, before reaching her arm back and lugging it at the house. It bounced off the side of the window pane with a dull thud. Ugh, protection spells. With a sigh, she cupped her mittened hands around her mouth. “Melaenis, dear, we are about due for another chat. If you’d be so lovely as to let me in. It’s freezing out here!”

[thestrength-of-thewolf-blog]

Were(fore) Art Thou Dragon -||-[Alpha Dragon]

@melaenis-ficente

The dragon had left the forest.

At least, that was what the trolls joyously proclaimed as they moved back into their caves. All the creatures of the forest rejoiced. Most of them. There were those who had appreciated the dragon’s presence. She was assurance that the forest would be protected and respected.

Without her, Akela was not sure the sprite would be able to take care of matters on her own.

However, Akela was wolf enough to admit when he was wrong.

He watched with satisfaction as the animals of the forest began to encroach on the town. How the town bemoaned the change. He even reveled in their anger. It amused him, their anger. Because he knew what lurked behind that anger--and it was fear. A fear Akela had felt his whole life--fear for his family, their land, their home and way of life.

His family had been killed because of such fear, but now, he knew that his family was on the winning side. They would not be hurt in this altercation. They had already been hurt. Akela wanted to assure that would not happen. 

He spent more time in his wolfskin these days than he had in over a year. He prowled along the edge of the forest, patrolling its boarder of his own volition. Watching Mundus, waiting for them to make the mistake of venturing beyond their four-walled homes. 

That was how he caught the scent of the dragon--though it was mixed with something human enough to emit a growl from his throat. He turned with his nose in the air to follow the scent deeper into the forest. At times, he nearly had to crawl on his belly through the thickets and thorns, but they moved enough to let him pass. 

It did not take him long to find the clearing. To find the woman. To find the--dragon. Though, it was not the same dragon. No, this was the dragon’s daughter. The witch’s daughter.

He stayed on the edge of the meadow for a few minutes, simply watching, but the winds shifted and he knew that his hiding place would be revealed. And he did not want to anger the witch by thinking he was spying. He was not. He was simply curious. His ears twitched and he stepped out of the woods, his massive form easily spotted. 

The small dragon was just a mite bigger than him and she turned her head towards him, letting out a curious chatter.

Akela looked at her and then swung his head towards the woman, padding cautiously forwards, ears alert in front of him. His tail wagged once. 

Do you know who I am? he asked, can you hear me?

[thestrength-of-thewolf-blog]

The Dance of the Wolf and the Dragon -||- [Alpha Dragon]

@melaenis-ficente

There was a dragon in the forest.

The beast hung like a shadow over the treetops. The whole forest held its breath in wait. Prey was as skittish as ever. You could hear the creature’s rumbling breaths through the rock quarry if you ventured close enough—not many did.

Not many, but the alpha wolf. He went for several reasons. To assess the situation, first and foremost. To, perhaps, seek out an alliance to keep his own family safe from the dragon’s maw. And, most importantly, to pay his respects, as were due to such ancient creatures.

The Law of the Jungle was clear in such matters. The balance of the jungle had been written in the beginning of time, before most animals even existed and all over the world, dragons were at the top of the hierarchy. No animal was higher. No animal did not answer to a dragon. Even the alpha wolf, who was the top of the food chain—formidable and respected—bowed to the dragon.

At the edge of the rock quarry, he was greeted by great, thick thorns. Huffing, he began delicately weaving his body through them, which, while bulky was also lithe and flexible, even at his age.

It took the better part of the early morning to crawl through the tangle of thorns. He did not approach the mouth of the cave, but instead perched on the ledge outside of it. He stretched down, laying so that he could lick at one of his paw pads that was bothering him, scraped on a thorn.

“Great, magnificent dragon,” he said with his mind, reaching, reaching. Though, he was sure the dragon already knew that he was there. “I, Akela, alpha of the Seeonee wolf pack, request an audience if it suits you.”

[delightinginthunder-blog]

A Disturbance in the Force ⚡ [Meus]

Zeus felt it from the other side of town. 

The day was still early. He had not yet fully woken, though he was laying in bed, eyes opening and closing sleepily. The sun had risen. And so, Zeus should rise as well. He knew Hera was asleep on the other side of the bed, her golden hair spread out on her pillow, a hand curled up by her face. 

Everything was very peaceful.

And then he felt it. 

Like a rumble through him, like someone plucking on a string and making it vibrate through him. Like an earthquake. Like all the magic in his veins suddenly energized to full capacity. Like someone had detonated a bomb and he could feel the aftershocks. 

It jolted him wide awake. He sat up and looked out the window. Trees moved in the distance, but besides that, it was calm. 

Whatever it had been was dark and ugly, sitting heavy in his chest. Felt like he was having a heart attack for a moment. 

Eventually, he stood and dressed himself--slipping out of the house quickly and quietly, like he did most mornings. Except, this time, he had a mission. As soon as his feet hit the pavement outside of his house, he could feel the magic crackling through the air. It was overwhelming. Like a thick, dark cloud--and not the good kind, not the kind that brought rain and wealth and prosperity, but something poisonous and polluted.

Zeus made his way down the street, following the feeling. There were only a few in town capable of such power, and even less that were capable of the darkness of it. He could feel each other powerful person, normally dormant, occasionally a tickle if he was near enough, or the spell they were brewing was strong enough. This--he felt it in his whole body. 

The feeling brought him to a quaint little cottage on the edge of town where magic crackled in the air. It made the hair on his arms stand up, his own magic gathering inside of him protectively. He didn’t really have a plan, except to figure out what the fuck had happened here. Striding up the steps, feeling the magic--different magic, but from the same person, and still powerful--that wrapped around the house as he brought his fist up and knocked a few short times. 

He supposed he was overdue to meet his sorcerer neighbors, regardless.

[labellerose-acheron]

Fire Me with Daring *** [Mel-Belle]

Please, please, you have to help him, you have to find a way, please--

Persephone’s words head echoed in Belle’s brain ever since she’d spoken them. They filled her both with dread and determination in equal measures. Her promise was still on the tip of her tongue, she tasted it there, like metal it lingered. 

How was she supposed to help him?

That question haunted her, for the past two days--she could not properly rest without it lurking behind her closed eyes. It made her feel listless and desperate to find an answer. Every day that passed with her still stuck in dead ends was another day that Persephone lost hope, was another day that Hades was locked away--god only knew what was happening to him. 

The feeling that it was up to her to do something weighed heavily on her shoulders, but her back did not bend beneath it. Honestly, it urged her forwards into greater action. Belle always worked best with something to cling to: a project, a goal, an emotion driving her on. Her desperation rose inside of her, the realization that she could, and would, take this into her own hands, gave her purpose--gave her a focus. 

She spun that determination, wove it like wool on a loom, took every string of it and transformed it into ideas and places to look and stones to overturn. At work she spent her time researching anything and everything she could: dragons, sorcerers, spells for concealment, spells for kidnapping, spells for cutting off communication, spells for keeping someone in one place, boundary spells and potions. 

All her research did was make her more frustrated--there was nothing more than short blurbs on these spells, if anything at all. No weaknesses to them, no ways to circumvent them. 

It took her two days to realize that she needed someone with the knowledge to actually apply this information. 

The only sorcerer she knew was Howl, and Persephone had already gone to him. 

But, there was another...

The idea, once it came to her, had bounced around in her brain all day at work and she was so determined and restless to carry it out that she closed the shoppe early to make her way towards the little cottage tucked along the outskirts of town--carrying two books and a notebook full of research. 

Belle marched with determination. She had no time to be afraid of the dark trees or the woman who resided in the--frankly--charming little house that she came upon.

She did not pause, did not break stride. Her heart was pounding in her chest--she knew of the sorceress’ reputation, knew that she was, perhaps, a dragon (this had been a fact she’d laughed off--now, though...) but it did not matter, because she might be able to help Belle help Hades.

Climbing the front steps, she shifted the books and notebook so that she could raise a fist to knock forcefully three times on the door.