#without a care in the world just helping dragons and eating raw fish

[honeymilkbubbletea]

Is this NSFW? 🤔

Anyways, she's just a girl leave her alone 😔

I think I'll make it a running gag for Astrid to always be positioned in a way to provide censore

Oh, and don't worry, I AM actually cooking some lore drawings for this AU

I just have to get the silly out of my system first ~

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

Can I request a fic for Onyx/MC involving Onyx's pregnancy cravings?

Brief warnings of past abuse.  Implied past miscarriage.  SPOILERS FOR ROUTE.

Written by: @evoedbd Craving

It was midday when Onyx emerged from her bedroom, all bright smiles and twinkling eyes. The sunlight played across her platinum hair, causing the soft, meadow green streaks to glisten like freshly growing life. Much like the life within her. Just a few months in and Onyx had taken to pregnancy as she took to everything. Gracefully. Beautifully. With the support of her family, the Assassins, Onyx was thus far cruising through the trimester. Sure, morning sickness was an absolute bitch, but with Cali holding her hair back every morning it wasn’t so bad. And not being able to drink copious amounts of alcohol was playing some havoc on her, but Wrath’s baking, Malakai’s uncanny ability to sniff out the best milkshakes, and Darius bringing home endless snacks and magazines from undisclosed locations more than made up for that. Even shopping with Ripley was fun, finding new clothes and materials to replace her dwindling wardrobe. Cal and Avi were horrible influences on her baby collection, both constantly accompanying her to the toy stores and bookshops. Cal had even bought a tiny little guitar, one which Avi was beginning to practice lullabies on. It was enough to melt Onyx’s heart.

She padded across the common area towards the kitchen, barefoot in a pair of shorts, swaddled in a signature Tie-Dyed hoodie. One which was not part of her usual wardrobe. She couldn’t help it. The moment her eyes had cracked open it was like a string between her and the hoodie, a magnet pulling at every sense in her body until she surrendered. She couldn’t feel at ease until the unnaturally soft material was wrapped around her until the scratchiness of worn armpits and elbows chafed at her. Until she was surrounded by that scent. Of bike oils and sand, mixed with an unnamed element that made her heart sing in contentment. It smelt so fucking good, enough that she turned her head in burrow her nose into the hood and sniffed, inhaling as much of that scent into her lungs as she could. A hint of cherry blossom sent her into a moment of sheer bliss. The hoodie was just so good. So perfect. She didn’t even feel guilty about her theft, about leaving the current Envy assassin without a jacket. It wasn’t like Cali actually needed it half the time, she was hot enough, visually and literally if you asked Onyx, as it was.

Before she could make it to the kitchen, a soft sound caught her ear. A breath. Then it played again, stemming from the couches. Onyx couldn’t help but smile, pulling the hoodie just a little tighter around her shoulders before stumbling upon the controlled chaos.

The table was a mess, covered in stacks upon stacks of hand-drawn diagrams and crisply written notes. Writing Onyx could barely understand. It didn’t take a genius to recognise Cali’s flowing concoction of lines which were meant to replicate letters, something that likely would have fit in a med school. Each stack of papers had a name at the top, one for every member of the troupe. It took a few moments before Onyx was able to make out the notes scribbled across the pages, which only made her heart swell with joy. Across them were personalised notes, each a set of instructions regarding pregnancy. Notes to Cal to watch his snark if he wanted to keep his tongue. Demands for Darius to never comment on Onyx’s growing belly under any circumstances if he wanted to remain able to act on his lust, along with a sloppy sketch of some scissors. A gentle reminder that Malakai wasn’t allowed to squish Onyx with hugs, nor take her to packed clubs. Ripley had a whole page explaining that adding honey to everything did not make it suddenly magically healthy.

Quietly, Onyx read them all, her cheeks flushed at the evident care and dedication Cali had put into them. She snickered at notes, warmings such as “Do not squish Onyx, Biceps-sarama.” Or “Do not encourage Onyx to underdress as much as you!”. Eventually, her eyes drifted back to Wraths, specifically to one page marred with blocky letters underlined thrice.

NO PUTTING RAW FISH AND/OR ALCOHOL IN CUPCAKES UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES!!!

ALCOHOL + RAW FISH = NOT CUPCAKE FILLINGS

Onyx couldn’t help but laugh, dabbing at her eyes as delighted tears began to fall. Cali’s passive-aggressive notes and demanding were positively endearing, especially knowing how apologetic Cali was likely to be in person about them. Truthfully, the threats were comedic coming from the second shortest assassin. Especially for the vision laid out before Onyx.

There was Cali, sound asleep across the couch, twisted, exposed skin glowing a faint, washed-out brass in the sunlight.

Her bare feet were kicked out over the arm of the couch, a toe or two bent from repeated breaks, heel and balls of her feet callused from the blisters she’d earned riding the canyons. One chipped toenail, from a sparring accident, taunted Onyx’s inner fashionista. Made her itch to buff it out. It was only the blues and purples forming beneath the nail which gave her pause; colours which littered the fine skin across Cali’s shins, up to a spectacularly scuffed up knee. All the little sun worn scars mixed with the fresh graze, a tapestry of her determination. Mental and physical strength, which showed in the relaxed definition of her thighs. Legs which allowed Cali to balance her bike wheels upon the finest wires, let the woman flip with Onyx and play games of chase in the skies. The closest thing to wings a human could have. Twisted as she was, the waistband of her denim shorts rode low, hanging enough to expose the band of her underwear off a sharp hipbone. Low enough for Onyx to have a glimpse of strong core muscles before the simple grey shirt concealed Cali’s ribcage. Bones that could be felt, yet not actively seen. Onyx let her gaze travel slowly, taking in every bump and bruise across Cali’s muscled shoulders. That sent a bolt of pride through the dragon of the Envy Trio. Cali’s muscles had grown since they’d first met, and that growth was directly tied to Onyx’s training. To Cali wanting to stride alongside the small bombshell. Cali had grown stronger to support Onyx. To be there for Onyx. How could Onyx not let herself look? Even if it was for just a few moments? How could she feel anything but pride and admiration for the definition she was the reason for?

She didn’t even realise that she’d been literally purring until her rumbling seemed to wake the sleeping woman. Even before those deep, dark eyes opened, Cali’s lips peeled into a small smile; the meaning of radiance, like a beam of sunlight through the clouds.

“Onyx… you’re purring.” Cali noted softly, as if her sleep husky voice might disturb the quiet. Onyx swallowed. Shuddered. The rasp added to Cali’s usually sweet voice, the weight to the tones, it was unexpectedly appealing. A siren’s song calling Onyx to sleep. A tease. No… not a tease. A promise. An eventuality. An invitation. It was an invitation Onyx couldn’t resist. Cali had barely even moved her arms before they were full of a tie-dyed goddess, shielding her from the harsh world.

Onyx was a dragon, she had learned the depths of her fire in human death, thought she had understood warmth. Yet, Cali once more proved her a fool. The mystery of how Cali’s arms could accomplish a warmth that burning stone could not was beyond all science, magical and mortal. It was beyond reason and madness both. It consumed without destroying, converting fear and shame into courage and pride. It was love, a treasure beyond anything Onyx had comprehended feeling as a human, let alone as a Dragon. A simple hug, delivered in such a sleepy manner had Onyx cooing in bliss, wiggling her smaller frame into the scoop of Cali’s body. A perfect fit. Something written into the heavens, woven on looms of fate, carved by Hephaestus. Something so perfect couldn’t be an accident, no way in any hells could anything convince Onyx that Cali hadn’t been created for her. To protect and love, to offer that in return. Gods, Cali did that so well. This compassionate hurricane of a woman was a shield against the world when Onyx needed shelter. Water when Onyx had dehydrated herself shedding tears for a man who mistreated her. Yet, Cali was not immovable. She cried, she cowered and screamed in fear at times. She was fearless, showing every emotion so plainly, each a little slither of starlight Onyx greedily claimed. Cali, the saviour of Onyx’s soul, was also the greatest treasure to protect. It was befuddling how someone could be strong enough to not only need to protect, but admit they needed protecting.

“Are you hungry?” Cali questioned softly. Onyx simply let a content purr escape her, snuggling deeper into that unique warmth. Honestly, she could eat, but that wasn’t what she needed that very minute. Somehow the combined scent of oil, sweat and cherry blossom was making her entire world creep closer and closer to a standstill. Each blissful inhale had her senses settling, body relaxing in a way nothing could ever accomplish. Not a lovely bath. Not an exhausting night of lust, even with Lust’s friends. A hug. Her world boiled down to a hug… and that playful nudge to her cheek.

“I could probably fry some bacon in chocolate sauce. Maybe add some fried pickles in that Raspberry ice cream you’ve been loving the past few weeks.” This time, Cali’s suggestions earned an actual groan. Whether delight or disgust, even Onyx didn’t know. Her face had screwed up, nostrils flaring as she burrowed her forehead into side of Cali’s neck. Warm. Soothing. Dragging her back towards a land of bliss… disrupted bliss.

Onyx almost whined in frustration, comfort turning overbearing within a blink of an eye. That voice. Cali’s goddamn voice. Onyx couldn’t tell if she wanted to fall asleep to the melody, stay awake to listen as she ate every ungodly concoction her body craved or try to make Cali’s voice break with less wholesome things than snuggling. It was pulling at her, dragging her in a thousand directions until she was more frayed than the hem of Cali’s jean shorts. Loose threads Onyx realised she was twirling her fingers though. Each movement had her fingers brushing across Cali’s rich skin, dancing across the defined grooves of muscle… another realisation. Cali was flexing. No, not just flexing. She was giggling. Laughing. Shoulders shaking beneath Onyx’s torso.

“If you want to be ready to tell the others, I’m not on the menu.” She teased; her voice disappointingly clearer. Sleep had lifted, taking that romanticised rasp. Even without the gravely nature to her voice, Cali’s voice was a Siren’s song. One luring Onyx’s focus from one appetite to another. Touch reminded her of her warmed body, then voice lured her out of the beginnings of lust, back towards practicality.

“We could order Sushi.” Onyx finally suggested, cursing how her cheeks flared at the twitch of Cali’s lips. Indulgent. Admiring. Again, Onyx sighed blissfully, letting herself sink back into the welcomed embrace. Her fingers wove through Cali’s, thumb skimming the ring Cali proudly wore. The layers of twisted metal.

“The chocolate sauce is in the fridge. Or I could melt some dark chocolate.” Cali’s offer was so genuine, so utterly casual Onyx almost forgot how disgusting fish and chocolate was to anybody who wasn’t pregnant or deranged. When Onyx paused to think on it, she was sure even the most dangerous of lunatics would flee the usually vile combination. Not Cali. Every single time, Cali braved it. With a bright smile, she’d bathe her shrimp or raw fish in chocolate sauce right alongside Onyx. When the stares became too much, there was Cali, loudly proclaiming her love for the combination. Making such a spectacle of herself that Onyx’s weird cravings were forgotten.

Cali was so different to Dorran. Cali was there, eating every lunatic concoction fearlessly, ensuring it wasn’t lethal. Even going as far as to make the other trope members taste test everything before allowing Onyx to eat it. Where Dorran had tried to drown it out, Cali drowned in Onyx’s pregnancy. She made Onyx the centre of her world, of her galaxy even. Everything had Cali’s support, her enthusiasm. Even the rare arguments when Onyx felt a little too babied, which never lasted long when she heard the genuine fear in Cali’s voice. The agony held within two little words. One single line.

You died.

In that line, Onyx saw how broken Cali could become. Just how deeply their bond ran in their veins. That. Perhaps it was that intimacy Onyx craved the most. Cali, no matter how, was the only constant Onyx clung to. From her scent, to her warmth, to her voice. Her touch. Onyx never realised that cravings could be more than food, could be so consuming and subtle. Contradicting and complimentary. For so long, validation had been her desire. For somebody, anybody, to care for her as if she was worthy of it. When she’d kissed that girl in the Casino to distract a crowd, she’d never believed her deepest cravings would be sated. Yet here she was. Here they were. Just beginning to learn the true meaning of craving.

[robertdowneyhiddlesbatch]

Chapter 4: Purpose

warnings: anatomy/talk of sex

Myrena was expecting an earth shattering roar to wake her, buried under the collapsed mountain. She was happily surprised to find herself awoken in bed by the sound of birds. She stared up into the abyss, listening to their twitters and tapping beaks. Myrena had no way to tell what time of day it was from deep within a mountain. After a while, she forced herself out of bed and dragged her feet to the giant basin of water. The water was unforgivingly cold on her face, but she needed that to wake up. Myrena left the room after washing up, ready to start her day. 

This round, she took her time to look around her surroundings. They were underground; the ceiling probably reaching beyond the skies if she had to guess. It was perhaps a kingdom of some race back in its day. A hundred chambers lined this way and that; ruins of stairs going all the way up and all the way down. This place was a shadow of its former glory, she'd guess. Of course, with a dragon living in it now, nothing else could. Speaking of, Myrena wondered where her host had gone to.

She picked a random room of choice, and to her joy found a great big window. Myrena ran to it and stepped out on the terrace. Oh was the morning breeze a blessing! Having closed her eyes to enjoy the cool, she opened them again to look out. In front of her was a clearing, beyond which began the forest. To its left was a lake. Myrena felt as if she were a child again. Gathering her inner strength in a deep breath, she ran and leapt to the terrace next door. 

Her landing was successful, but her wounds from yesterday punished her. Ignoring the stings, Myrna continued running and leaping till the lake was front and center. She closed her eyes again, feeling the wind blow the water gently in her face. Suddenly, the air froze and her eyes snapped open, danger looming. Myrena leaned over the railing, watching the water rumble. Then without warning, a red flash leapt out of the lake, showering her with lake water. It would have been more fun if fish weren't part of that experience.

"You're awake!" She was sure the voice boomed across the world.

"What are you doing?'' she screamed up at Smaug.

"Going. For. A dip." He answered as he twirled higher up, showering her more.

Myrena laughed and waved him off, going back in to change her clothes. 

There was a pile of clothes in another part of her room. Myrena didn't dare think where the dragon could have picked them up from. As she began to take off her soaking dress, the cloth weighed heavy on her shoulders, causing her body to ache. She grunted as she used her strength to push the sleeve down her shoulder, the wound on her oblique stinging painfully.

"Need a hand?"

Myrena yelped as she turned to face Smaug standing in the doorway, hands clasped behind his back, wearing his red coat and black leather pants again. The only sign that he'd been in the water was the curly hair on his head, sticking to his forehead.

"Um, I know this is your home, but can't a girl have some privacy?" Myrena was half serious as she covered her chest.

Smaug laughed a throaty laugh that went up the caverns of the room. 

"And who, may I ask, bound you in the first place?" He curiously pointed at her with a knuckle.

Myrena looked down herself. Her wounds had been patched and wrapped, and the dress on her shoulders was not her own. Her cheeks stung with shame. 

"You've... seen me. Naked."

"Ah, only to necessity. You seem to forget I am not man, your human hesitations do not apply to me."

"Right. Well then, Mr. Dragon. I've soaked through my dress and bandages thanks to you. So if you wouldn't mind?"

She teased him and stood up to stand toe to toe with him, suggesting he undo the strings on her torso. Smaug smirked and grabbed the top of her dress, and in one go, ripped it straight down the middle. She instinctively moved her arms to cover her chest and groin, but found it silly. Her breast wrappings from days ago was still bound tightly around her chest, and her underwear was also still on, though both were threatening to fall from the weight of the water. For a dragon, Smaug was pretty chivalrous. 

"I need to take them off." Myrena simply told him and turned away, back towards the bed. 

The end of the wrap was tucked into the binding just below her left armpit. But her right shoulder killed her as she reached to the other side to peel it off. It took the breath out of her just the first unwrapping, and she rested after it.

"Need a hand?" Smaug asked again as he came behind her.

"No! Don't rip it! I don't assume you've got more under wraps?"

"Never needed them."

Myrena laughed. 

"Great. I'll just..." she reached for it again, now hanging below her right arm, straining as she did. Smaug huffed and grabbed it instead, unwrapping it all the way. 

"Darn." Myrena exhaled instead of thanking him. "The bandages."

"I've done it before," Smaug offered.

"Thank you. But I had my wrap on then. Now I don't..." she squealed before she could finish. Smaug had grown tired and, turning her around, lifted her in his arms and placed her on the bed. 

"For the last time, and you remember it well, now. I am a dragon. I don't care for your human trivialities. Either you can shut up and let me do you, which isn't something I do for anyone else, or you can suffer in your pain and help yourself!" Smaug told her all in one breath, and Myrena watched him, too stunned to speak. 

"I'll take your silence for your consent. Now, I'll warn you. It may sting a little." 

That was his only warning as he began to redo her bandages. She hissed when he dabbed the healing potions on her wounds, but never complained. 

"Thank you," Myrena said when he was almost done.

Smaug half smiled. "I was beginning to think you were the ungrateful kind. It takes you a minute to appreciate." He stepped back when his work was done. 

Myrena stood up to put on the dress, thankful that this one didn't have strings. It did have buttons on the back of the collar, which she could no doubt ask Smaug to do for her. Smaug's kindness had reached its cap and he let her get the dress on herself. It took her longer than usual, but eventually she got it on. As she was dressing, Myrena noticed Smaug play with a bird. The little thing flittered around his head then came to sit on his offered finger.

"You don't eat birds?"

"Eat birds?" He turned her way. "Why would I eat birds? Do you think a bird would satisfy me?"

Myrena suddenly remembered the night she'd seen his dragon form. He'd eaten all her assailants, and her horse too. 

"You'd have to eat a whole forest."

"Eh, I wouldn't. Birds clean my teeth for me, eating the stuff stuck in between. Kind of a co dependent relationship."

"Interesting. Speaking of eating..." she looked guiltily at him.

"Right. Any interest in fish?" He lead her out of the room.

Myrena laughed, realizing he meant the ones that he'd 'given' her in the morning. 

"As long as it's cooked." She followed him into the terrace room.

The terrace was still wet, with a heap of fish lying about. The room had a furnace as well, on which she could cook her breakfast. Myrena collected the better looking fish and brought them into the room. She cut off their heads with the blade she'd brought with her, and fixed them on to the spit.

"Can you, light the fire?" She curiously asked him, wondering if he'd have to turn into his full form.

Thankfully, he didn't. Smaug went up to the furnace and crouched next to it. Then he took in a big breath and blew, hot streams of fire coming up from his throat and lighting the coal. Myrena sat opposite him, turning the spit. 

"Does that not burn you? In your human form?"

"Not really. It feels like it always does. A tickle in the back of the throat."

As he went on describing it, Myrena got up and brought more fish from the terrace, replacing the cooked ones with some of the raw. 

"You said I'm the only one you've ever helped."

"Hmm?" 

"Back in the room, you said I was the only person you were ever going to help. What makes me so special?"

Smaug mused. "I've been stalking your legend, ghost bride. The night you first saw me was not the first time I'd seen you."

"And you decided I was helpless?" She playfully suggested while popping a piece of fish in her mouth. 

Smaug laughed. "No, you're quite the opposite really. I decided..." he paused for effect, "that you would be my mate."

Her eyes grew ten fold. "I... Because I look like a dragon?"

"Metaphorically. You've got dragon traits; the solitude, the strength, the determination." Smaug had golfed down his second raw fish.

"When you say mate. I assume, would include... the act..." Myrena blushed.

"Yes." Smaug stated matter of factly.

"In your human form of course?" There was no possible other way.

"Initially." He stated.

"Initially?!" She choked. "You think you'd fit?" Her legs reflexively closed. 

"Hah! Mortal, I have talons longer than your arms." 

The red of her cheeks reached the tip of her ears. 

"Oh! We can't be possible! I'm afraid just thinking about it!"

"Lovely! You're just worried about the length. The barbs would be no trouble for you, yes?"

"B-barbs? There are... barbs?! They'll cut!"

"They serve their purpose. When we mate for the first time, the barbs will surely cut you, but that'll allow my seed to get into your blood." He ate. "As my mate, you'll need to be changed, my chemicals would have to bind with yours, change your chemistry. Make you turn."

His mouth made a clicking sound, releasing his fangs which startled Myrena.

"My fangs will release a venom in your blood..."

"But venom kills."

"Yes. But with my seed running in your blood as well, the two will work to match your chemistry to mine."

"What if I object?"

"You don't have the choice. It'll be easier for you to accept your fate."

"So what?" Myrena stormed up, and Smaug followed suit. "You'll force me to marry you? Subject me to you? Like, like him?"

Smaug growled and roughly pinned her next to the fireplace. 

"iiigh am not like other men! You have no master except Smaug!" He bellowed, but calmed for the next part of his dialogue, though the anger was still there. "I will only force you to be my mate, and the sire bond that will be between us. But beyond that, you'll go about as you always have: with your free will."

Angry as he was, no one had ever offered her the life this dragon currently was. It may have been his mating instinct talking, but she'd trade her whole town for this dragon. 

"What if, I don't know?" She meekly asked.

"Don't know what?"

"How to... how to mate."

Smaug laughed a deep laugh.

"You don't know how to mate?"

"Well I get the basic sense of it, but I don't know all the rituals."

"We dragons just, get it in, let it out and done." He finally let go and walked back to his seat.

Myrena laughed. "Well that's very banal! I hope that's not how humans do it."

"Your mother never taught you?"

Myrena stalled in her step, then took her seat before answering.

"My mother died before I was of age."

"I'm... sorry." Smaug said mutely. "I picked up the sentiment from watching mortals for quite some time." He explained when she gave him a puzzled look. "Who else is in your pride?"

"My family? Well, I'm the oldest of three. There's Beorn after me, then Feomer. The both of them took after our father, greedy and evil and insults to our race! But then there was Quince. Oh, little Quincy! He was born... different. The other two didn't accept him, neither did our father. But mother and I loved him. He was all I had after mother died. I took him to the monks before my wedding."

"Wedding." Smaug stated the word, but his heart burned with the thought. "You married?" He got off his seat, heading for the door. 

Myrena suddenly remembered back two minutes ago when he'd proclaimed her as his mate. She felt bad for him, for the two of them, and followed after.

"Only the ceremony. We never consummated."

"I suppose you need more of your clothes." Smaug changed the topic. "There's a town by the foot of the mountain on the other side. You're welcome to visit it if you like." He told her and turned away towards his treasury.

"I will. Thanks for letting me know." Myrena called after him, letting him go in peace.

@tschrist1

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[ask-de-writer]

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 64 of 83 : World of Sea

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

Part 64 of 83

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

copyright 2020

written 2007

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users   of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may   reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information   remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in   my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical   compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here

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Kurin watched her unbar the door of the cabin as she thought about it.  She said, “No, I don’t think so.  He used to be my friend.  I just wish that I understood how things went so wrong.”  She looked a mute appeal at Tanlin and added, “How could he hate me so?  I never did anything to him.”

Tanlin paused before opening the door.  She considered before answering, “Nae t’ ‘ear Silor tell t’e tale.  ‘E believes t’at ye were t’e author o’ all o’ ‘is misfortunes.  According t’ ‘im, ye were a Dragon-wicken an’ ‘eld t’e ‘ole Naral fleet in t’e palm o’ yer ‘and.”

Kurin was taken aback.  “You mean it?” she asked.  “What could put him so far onto dry land?”

Tanlin looked at Kurin with pity in her eyes.  “Oi’ve been tryin’ t’ tell ye.  ‘E’s insane w’ere ye are concerned.  ‘E believes ‘imsel’ a tragic ‘ero, persecuted for ridding t’e fleet o’ a deadly an’ unperceived menace.”

“Lady Tanlin,” came a forlorn voice from within the cabin, “I can hear you out there.  Who is with you?  Has the fleet come to their senses yet?”

Tanlin opened the cabin door, leaned in, and said, “Silor, someane ‘as come t’ speak wit’ ye.  She’ll be representin’ t’e Grandalor before a fleet tribunal.  Will ye tell ‘er t’e exact trut’ o’ yer involvement in t’e poisoning?  ‘T may ‘elp our case.”

Silor’s voice answered, calm and assured, “Of course I will talk to her but it is a waste of time.  No case will be needed.  The Witch is dead and in a short time her curses will be gone.  When people are themselves again, they will know themselves freed.”

Kurin spoke from out in the hall where Silor couldn’t see her.  “Silor, you were a good student at learning to navigate by wave and current. Do you know where we are?”

He replied with confidence, “We are in the Dragon Sea.  It was clever of Captain Barad to bring us here.  No fleet owns these waters.  We will be safe here.”

“What of the Great Sea Dragons?  If Mecat taught the witch, perhaps they will not like your having killed her,” Kurin said.

“Dragons live too long to care much about any particular human.  They won’t care one way or the other,” Silor replied airily.

“I’m afraid that you’re wrong about that, Silor,” said Kurin, stepping into his view.

“You’re dead,” he said flatly.  “Nobody can survive Ord poisoning.  Your dying is why the Grandalor had to flee in the first place.”

“No,” Kurin contradicted, “I lived.  The sailor that you duped into poisoning me is the one who died.”

Silor looked at her in dread and leaped at the conclusion that fit his delusion.  “You turned the Ord against the man who poisoned you!” he accused.

“I didn’t have to,” Kurin said quietly.  “The Corliss fleet knows how to heal Ord poisoning.  Sula carried me to her ship and Doctor Worran cured me.  The sailor that you gave the poisoned awl to wasn’t so lucky.  He got the poison through his shirt from carrying the awl in his pocket.  It got to his lungs first.  The doctor tried but she couldn’t save him.”

A wild glint entered Silor’s eyes and he shouted, “Don’t lie!  It was you!  You and that evil Dragon magic!  You killed him just like you did your father!”

Kurin recoiled as if she had been struck.  The very idea that she would have harmed her father was past simply shocking.  It was truly sickening and called to mind her mother’s accusations as she sank into madness.

Silor bunched his legs under him as he paused for breath.  “What does it take to kill you?” he screamed, lunging at Kurin, arms outstretched, hands clawed.

“More’n ye’ve got, Lad!” said Tanlin as she pounced almost into his path and grabbed his arm as he passed, spinning him headfirst into the wall.  Kimson landed on top of him and Tanlin calmly pulled her knife from concealment.  She laid its blade against Silor’s throat and added, “Mister Kimson’s goin’ t’ get off o’ ye, an’ ye’re goin’ t’ get onto yer bunk very slowly.  I’ ye try t’ ‘arm Kurin again, ye die.  Clear?”

Tears of rage and frustration in his eyes, Silor mutely nodded.  Carefully, Kimson released Silor, who slowly got to his feet and sat on his bunk.

Dully, he asked, “I heard whales, who else has she killed?”

As Kurin was about to protest, Tanlin waived her to silence and answered, “Nane.  We lost ane killed outright an’ ane mortal injured.  Yer Longin did t’ose murders an’ some ot’er injuries as well.

“Just gettin’ Kurin ‘ere ‘ad a ‘eavy price.  Macoul t’e steersman died o’ a cut t’roat an’ Lenai Halin died later o’ an abdominal wound.”

That brought a reaction of disgust from Silor.  “So, the witch got to you too?  She made you sacrifice good people just to finish her revenge on me?”

At that, Kurin would not be silent.  “Revenge?  What for?  No witchcraft is needed.  I never lifted a finger against you.  You bring yourself down!”  Bitterly, she added, “If I was a witch, I’d have just changed you so that you wouldn’t care.”

“You knew that I was here on the Grandalor!  How?”

“You were careless.  You were seen at the Gathering,” Kurin retorted angrily.  “Even the sailor that you killed told us it was you before he died.  You are under the same execute on sight order that you got put onto Barad and all the officers of this ship with your murder plot.”

That brought Silor up short.  “Barad?  He tried to stop us.  Why would the Council order him executed?”

Tanlin burst in, icily angry, “M’ too, as an officer o’ t’e Grandalor.  We’re all t’ be executed on sight because o’ ye. Our ‘ope lies in Kurin’s ‘ands an’ t’e jaws o’ t’e Dragons.  T’e Dragons ‘ave let us ‘arbor ‘ere in neutral woters but we cannae go t’rough t’em t’ escape t’e justice o’ a fleet t’at seems t’ ‘ave nane.”

Silor began to whimper and curl up.  “I tried to save you all.  I never wanted to hurt anybody…”  He uncurled an accusing arm, pointing at Kurin.  “If she is your hope, you are as doomed as I am. . .”  He collapsed, eyes rolled back in his head, still breathing but showing no other sign of life.

Shaking and slapping elicited no response.  Silor was gone where none could follow.

Sadly Tanlin said to a thoroughly shocked Kurin, “Oi warned ye.  ‘E wa’ so far ont’ dry land t’at not’ing could bring ‘im bock t’ safe woter.”  She looked grimly down at Silor’s still form and reached a decision.

“Oi’m proof t’at Doctor Corin can care for a person in a coma.  T’he doctor’ll care for ‘im until ‘e recovers or simply dies.” She turned to Kimson.  “Guard ‘im until men come t’ take ‘im t’ sickbay.  See t’at ‘e’s restrained after ‘e’s taken t’ere.”  

She led Kurin back to the Captain’s cabin.  Barad was out and they had the place to themselves.  Tanlin ordered food and drink for Kurin and then said, “T’at wa’ awful.  Oi wad never ‘ave guessed t’at ‘e wad just retreat like t’at.  Wat now?”

Kurin had no answer.  She simply sat and shook, crying inside but not allowing the tears to reach the surface.

Sympathetically, Tanlin sat by her and held her hand.

With a bit of scratching at the window, Thunderhead entered the cabin with a skelt in his beak.  Tanlin looked up at the big Sea Hawk and smiled.

“Ye’re right, T’under’ead.  She does need lookin’ after just now. T’anks for t’e ‘elp.”  She took the small fish and held it out to Kurin.  “‘Ere, youngster.  Take a bite so ‘e’ll know t’at ‘e’s ‘elped.  Friends ‘oo’re ‘urt need food t’ get well.  Tis all t’at ’e knows ‘ow t’ do for ye.”

“It’s raw,” Kurin said, a bit of smile beginning to show around the edges of her shock.

“T’at’s ‘ow tis best for young birds,” said Tanlin tolerantly.  “Go on, ‘e’s really tryin’ t’ ‘elp.”

Kurin took a small bite of the fish and realized that the skelt was good, even raw.  She set to nibbling around the coarse bones until most of the meat was gone, Thunderhead watching critically.  Tanlin absently scratched him under the right wing.

By the time that she was done with the fish, Kurin had a grip on herself.  The distraction provided by the somewhat comic antics of the bird and having to eat as well, helped.

There was a knock at the cabin door and Benj, the cabin-boy entered with a tray.  It had sliced, hard-boiled paddle duck eggs, red-weed bread and dried fillets of skelt for Kurin to eat.  Beside the water bottle were sweet and tart flavors.

By the time that she was done eating the simple fare, Kurin had regained her composure.  She gave Tanlin a measuring look.

“I have all the information that I am likely to get,” Kurin announced, “and I have begun to outline a multi-issue defense.  You said that you could summon the fleet Council and the Longin.  I would like to see how you do that from here.”

TO BE CONTINUED

<==PREVIOUS    NEXT==>

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

[modestlyabsurd]

Survival Pt. 3 (Loki x Reader)

So far, a few things have been discovered through your Asgardian-Jötun defense training: for one, Loki is literally a soldier. Well actually, a warrior. He's a goddamn fighting machine. For some odd reason that has never crossed your mind. With the privilege of guns and bows and knives, exactly how skilled he is in hand-to-hand combat has never really come into play.

The second thing you've learned is just how unskilled you are in hand-to-hand combat.

It's embarrassing when you think about it. Of course, thinking about it is what got you knocked down with a blade to your throat probably eight out of ten times. Oh yeah, Loki wasn't fucking around. He showed you a few things. Without any weapons, you're shit.

You shudder to think what you'd be without him. Dead? No, probably worse. In a lot of ways.

He lay, after finally giving in to slumber a few hours ago, under a pink mildewy comforter on the mattress. He'd trained you all night and well into the morning. Gone was the bright springy sun from yesterday, and in its place was a grayish blue sky covered in fish-scale clouds. That's always a sign of a cold front, but damn, how could it get any colder? Surely some sort of solar collapse would take place if it did. Regardless, that meant problems.

The physical training had not been the best thing for Loki to do. He won't admit it because he's as stubborn as a jackass. But he's hungry.

Despite feeling the effects of not sleeping much after taking the Advil, you got up at daybreak when the light came in the kitchen window and reviewed your stocks. You already know it's bad but that doesn't matter; Loki's gonna eat today even if you have to force feed him.

Not that you could possibly restrain him long enough to do so. Not that you could restrain him at all ... God, you're sore from training with a famished person. It was nice, though.

Loki had already replaced the food into your backpacks, but he left the notepad open on the counter with them. At first you struggle to read his ridiculously pretty, loopy cursive handwriting. It's prettier than your grandma's.

18.2.2020

x1 tinned pineapple

x2 tinned tuna fish (cat food)

x1 handisnacks cheese and crackers (what?)

x1 smashed cereal bar

a bit of peanut butter.

We MUST find more.

~L

"Well no shit, Sherlock," you mumble.

The logical option is obvious. You dig into your backpack and find the cans of tuna, as Loki begins to stir in his sleep. Green eyes shine from across the room and long arms emerge from the blanket like butterfly wings. You can't help but grin a little.

He groans upon seeing you. "Good morning."

"Morning. Nice hair."

"Mm, yes. The morning after look suits you nicely as well," he murmurs. Damn your burning face.

"You wish."

Loki sits upright and slowly stands up, looking around the heart of this small house. As if it didn't look bad enough, it became sparring grounds last night. Everything was fine - until he decided to reverse the roles and let you practice a bit. Scattered glass from broken artwork, a dented kitchen cabinet, and now one of the floor boards is bowing up. Loki smiles, remembering that last take-down of yours and feeling something come loose beneath him.

You'd thought you broke one of his bones, and he let you think it. His muscles cramping from laughter and nearly getting punched in the face established the end of your first training session.

The floors creak even louder now as he approaches you by the kitchen sink. He places a hand on your shoulder with pride. "You did well last night."

You scoff, "Tell that to my ass that got kicked."

"Don't be too hard on yourself," he encouraged, his voice not fully awake. "I'm no easy teacher. But you learn quickly. You just need a bit of patience, grasshopper." He booped your nose.

"Yeah, whatever," you try not to smile. "Oh, by the way, this is not cat food. It's real tuna and you're gonna eat it."

Loki visibly gets on the defense. "Are you ordering me?"

You notice the jab but remain composed. "Yeah, Mr. Prince of Asgard, I am."

"And if I refuse?"

"Don't worry, I have a plan."

He shrugs. "I'm not hungry."

"Yes, you are! Would you stop lying?!" the slam of the can rings through the walls and makes Loki jump.

"I don't need - "

"What did we agree on?" you demand.

He purses his lips solemnly. "No lies. No lies between us."

"And you've been lying about this for a minute."

"I haven't!" he hisses. "I don't know what you're so worried about but it's senseless! I can take care of myself, my body is not the same as yours - I'm not human!" The harshness of his eyes, so literally and figuratively transparent, along with the gauntness of his cheeks unnerved a distant part of your mind.

"I think you're the one that's worried."

His slightly agape mouth sighs and his eyes blink in disbelief. The harshness melts away. He looks anywhere but in your face. You're so bloody perceptive. Normally it's quite helpful, and it's one of the things he likes about you. But not when you read him like a cheap, paperback novel.

"Loki, I don't wanna be mad. I don't want us to yell and scream at each other. Just ... be a good cat and eat the fucking tuna." You slide the can over to him, "For me."

He picks up the can with pale, deft fingers, looking it over deep in his thoughts. The only other person who knew him so well was Frigga. His hidden feelings. The right things to say. The code to crack his walls. How, especially in such a tumultuous world, does someone else know the same things? A human nonetheless. Of course, he knows if he thought about it too much he'd eventually figure out the answer.

He's not sure he wants to know the answer. At least for now. Maybe even for eternity.

Having gathered the will to look you in the eye, he notices your face painted with dirt. Your hair, growing over your eyes and nearing your shoulders. The rip at your jacket collar. The healing cut on your lip.

"It seems you possess patience already. What you lack is the ability to harness it."

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. "Was this a test?!"

"It was," Loki chirps while opening the tuna can, "and you passed with excellence."

~

More training filled the rest of the morning easily. Amidst the physicality of sparring in life-and-death scenarios, Loki assessed your mentality as well. He sharpened your strengths, which grew the fastest in your fighting, and honed in on your weaknesses. Most, if not all, stemming from your emotions.

He went so far as to create illusions to test you. Only, you didn't realize they were illusions.

Whilst showing you one of the many ways to escape someone's grip without the help of a weapon, he mounted you with his knees pinning your shoulders. Your arms useless, your neck exposed to his silver dagger. The coldness of the blade was paralyzing.

"This feeling means you're not dead and you have time to act."

"Fuck, your breath reeks."

Loki nearly loses it all. "Focus, you sausage! You have to act fast!"

You try to move what little you can when suddenly the weight holding you down is thrown to the floor. A man has Loki down and connects with a few punches before you can launch to your feet. The dagger was dropped in the struggle so you grab it and drive it through the stranger's neck, only to lose balance and nearly fall. Your hand went through air.

The man was air?!

Someone seizes your mishap from behind and wraps their arms around your throat. You distantly hear Loki scream your name before the feeling of cold, hard metal presses against your skull.

"Whatever you've got, give it!"

Once your vision focuses you see Loki, his hands above his head, begging. "Let her go. Please."

"Now!"

"We don't have anything!"

"The backpacks! Get 'em! Empty everything out!"

Loki keeps looking at you, as if he's begging you to do something. Then you remember the dagger you're clutching in your hand.

You swing toward the stranger's head. Again, your arm goes through air, but at last you're free. Frantically you look around to find where the air people are coming in. Before you pass Loki, he haults you.

"Come on! We gotta stop them - "

"Easy, darling, easy," he coos, "it's alright. There's no one here."

"But they, they are! They were here ... "

"Shhh," he grips your shoulders down to your triceps, looking deeply into your eyes. Instantly calming you down. "It's alright, darling. It was all an illusion. We're safe."

"Wh... Illusion..?" you ask breathlessly. The house is quiet. The wind howls outside. Everything begins to play out in your head again; how your hand kept going through the robbers. They weren't real. In one hand, you want to melt into Loki's embrace due to the draining withdrawal from raw fear.

But in the other hand is the dagger.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" you swing wildly, not aiming at anything but definitely aiming for something. Loki disarms you before you poke an eye out.

Many, many obscenities later and you're sitting on the mattress together discussing your strengths and weaknesses while cleaning your weapons.

"Your reflexes are a bit slow, but they're improving. Just when the fear is about to consume you beyond return, you recover, and you recover well. Your strikes are deadly. But that bit of time when your emotions dare to take over ... it could be enough time for anything to happen."

"Yeah, yeah. What's my grade?" you wipe the barrel of your rifle.

Loki laughs. "You've graduated from grasshopper to novice. Well done."

You smile at him.

Then, you hear it.

Far off, but approaching.

Your eyes dart toward the sound, then drift back to Loki staring back at you.

A herd.

Loki frowns, his brows furrowing above sorrowful green eyes.

"We have to move."

~

i aint fuckin around no more y'all. this is a motherfuckin Last of Us AU

tag list: @sydneyss-worlddd @afinedilemma @fire-in-her-veinz @belladonnabarnes @drakesfiance @internetgremlin @dragon-chica @triggeredpossum @tarynkauai

[ussjellyfish]

dragon queen, 5

one night stand and falling pregnant au

oh nonnie, pregnancy fic is totally my weakness, thank you. 

Alice, Robin and Maleficent have a conversation. Kind of fluffy and all found family. (I love Alice, she’s precious). 

Dragon Queen and Curious Archer, though it’s mostly just Alice and Mal making friends. 

“One of the best things about parties here is buffet gets all mixed up. This bit, with the fish, that’s from Arendelle, and these funny cakes? they’re straight out of Wonderland, minus the magic powers, I think. I hope.” Alice balanced another cake on top of the first and smirked. “Guess we’ll find out.”

“If I end up miniature, put me somewhere outside before the magic wears off, I tend to return to form all wings and scales.”

“Well that’s an idea, a wee little dragon.” Alice chuckled, imagining a palm sized little creature breathing fire. “Cakes unfortunately make you bigger, so we’d have to hope you were in a good mood before the castle got squashed.”

Maleficent raised an eyebrow. “Can’t say I’ve ever been accused of stepping on a castle, burning one, razing…” She raised her hand in a submissive gesture.

Did she have pointed teeth?  She couldn’t really have pointed teeth. Maleficent had totally normal teeth. She was human. Human-ish, human right now.

“These cakes aren’t magic, I promise.”

“Then the castle should remain intact.” Maleficent handed Alice a napkin. Such a mom thing, of course, she was a mom, some kind of dragon mom and she did hang out with Regina a lot, which made sense because Regina was totally a mom.

“Champagne?” Alice offered, holding out the flute. “I hear it’s the good stuff.”

Maleficent took the drink and gestured towards the tables. Somehow they’d ended up together: Papa, her Nobin, the dragons, and some lovely dignitaries from the Realm of Untold stories. They seemed to have stepped out of some sort of Eastern European fairy tale and they only talked in Elvish. Robin thought it was maybe Lithuanian, because she’d been through there when she was cursed and backpacking.

As they sat down, Lily looked at her mom, eyes wide. “Mom!” she hissed.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing at all. Thanks for grabbing me some more champagne.” Lily’s glass was full, but she downed it, guilping it all like cold tea.

Robin’s eyes got big and Papa looked from Maleficent to Lily as if he knew something. Papa was really good at figuring things out. When there were things to figure out, which it seemed like there was. Interesting.

Was this a thing? It was just a diplomatic dinner, something where Regina would give a nice speech and there would be food. Why wasn’t Lily letting her mom drink her champagne?

“Is this sushi?”

“I don’t know what sushi is, dear. It’s a salmon dish from Arendelle, one of my favorites.”

“Which you–” Lily stopped again, learning in. “Really shouldn’t be eating because it’s raw, you know that?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”

“I put the app on your phone, I told you how to use it. Smoked fish isn’t cooked and you really shouldn’t–”

“My phone’s somewhere safe.”

Alice leaned in close to Robin, her lips brushing her cheek. “I bet she’s got it in a cave or something.”

“She doesn’t have a cave.”

“She does, it’s underneath the library, Auntie Regina trapped her there for decades.”

“Well that’s romantic.”

“They’re so not romantic.”

“Uh-huh,” Robin rolled her eyes over her champagne. “Tell her what romantic might look like, Detective.”

“Oh no, I prefer to be left out of this,” Papa said, shaking his head. “Whatever has occured between the Good Queen and the dragon is between them and none of our business.”

Alice raised both her eyebrows. “So something did happen? They got all flirty with fireballs and stuff?”

“We don’t pry into the private affairs of others, Starfish.”

Alice shot a look at Lily and Maleficent, who were still arguing and paying know attention to anyone else. “It’s not exactly private if they’re discussing it in front of us.”

Robin stole a cake from Alice’s plate and shrugged. “Mostly they’re arguing about where Maleficent should keep her phone.”

“You said it was precious,” Maleficent insisted, eating the salmon she wasn’t supposed to eat.

“Phones are expensive,” Lily started, waving down the waiter for more champagne, because she seemed to need it. “But it’s really of no use to you if it’s in your horde somewhere.”

Robin nudged her, whispering, “Told you she was hiding it.”

“Well, they are a little jewel-like, I suppose.”

Maleficent rolled her eyes. “If someone needed me, I’m easily summoned. Any idiot with half a brain and a–”

“Mom, don’t announce how you’re summoned.”

Now that was interesting. You could summon a dragon? “Sorry, pardon me for butting in, you can really be, like, summoned? What’s that like?”

Maleficent stopped arguing with Lily and turned her head, looking right at her all predatory. “It tingles a little.”

“Do you know who summoned you? Is there like, a message?”

“I don’t think it’s like texting,” Robin said, because she knew more about magic.

“It’s not that specific, most of the time.”

“So having a phone would be more useful,” Alice offered, taking out her own and holding it up. “See, here’s Robin telling me to get marmalade at the store yesterday. If she just summoned me, I wouldn’t know I needed to go to the store, just that she wanted me to come home.”

The dragon lady took her phone for a moment, and her smile grew. She twisted her fingers and a fresh jar of marmalade appeared in front of Alice’s plate. “I concede that your messages might be useful, but, so is magic.”

Grabbing the jar, Alice opened it with a grin. Marmalade would go brilliantly on her cake. “All right, you can have a point for that.”

Robin tried to help. “What would you do if you needed someone to know something specific, like…you wanted to tell Lily something. Can you summon her?”

“Nah, she’s not a mythical figure from fairy tales, I don’t think she gets her own summoning spell,” Alice piped up, spreading marmalade on her cake, because why not? It was going to be better with marmalade.

“So what would you do?”

Maleficent set down her fork and dabbed her mouth with her napkin. “Inhabit a reflective substance near her and tell her what I needed to.”

“You could just call me.”

“It’s not my way.”

Lily looked up at the ceiling, as if somehow the great wooden beams could help her. “You lived without magic, you’ve used tools. Phones are a tool. Part of this world, and they’re really helpful. You can learn a lot from having a tiny computer in your pocket.”

Staring at her daughter, Maleficent’s eyes grew soft, almost liquid blue. “Living without magic was a cold, lonely hell.”

“This isn’t without, it’s in addition.” Lily reached for her mother’s hand, wrapping their fingers together.

Alice’s eyes stung a little. Parents and their children got to her way too fast, especially when they were good to each other. She could just hear Nobin teasing her for being soft.

“You get to keep your magic,” Lily continued, “But you get the bonuses of the modern world too. Indoor plumbing, Netflix. Apps that answer all the questions you might have about the weird shit that’s going to happen.”

Robin mouthed “weird shit”? And Alice shrugged, they shouldn’t be listening, but it was really hardly a private conversation, and she was curious, dreadfully so.

“I’m getting more food, just think about it, okay?” Lily stood, touching her mother’s shoulder. “I’m sure you can use magic to make the damn phone fireproof so you don’t have to worry about melting it.”

Standing up a moment after Lily, Papa leaned down and kissed Alice’s forehead. “I’ll talk to her.” That promised, without a word.

That left the three of them and the Elvish half of the table. Alice wasn’t supposed to ask, Robin was going to make that face as soon as she did, but she couldn’t help herself. Not that Maleficent seemed to care about privacy. Maybe she needed a chance to talk about it as much as Lily did.

“So, why can’t you eat raw fish? Is that a dragon thing?”

The sharp pain was Robin kicking her ankle under the table but Alice smiled and ignored it. Robin was too tentative and never found things out.

“In dragon form I ate nearly everything raw, perhaps scorched on the outside. This body is more picky, but no, the restrictions are rules from this world. No drinking, no raw fish, no coffee.”

“Do you like coffee?”

Maleficent tilted her head, like the iguanas did at the zoo when they were about to be fed. “I do, it hadn’t reached the Enchanted Forest yet, though I’d had it in the far south. Here, everything’s so easy.”

“Couldn’t you just magic it up if you wanted to?”

“Never turned out right. Rather like wine. Some things are better if you let them grow and age instead of pulling them from the air.”

“So you must miss it?” Alice started to ask why she couldn’t have it but Robin squeezed her hand, stopping her.

“You can have one cup a day, usually. I mean, you’ll want to talk to someone.”

What did Robin know? How did she have this figured out? What did she know about coffee and dragons and stuff?

“Who would she talk to?” she demanded, looking from her to Maleficent. Both of them ignored her, having some kind of conversation beneath their words.

“That obvious?”

“My mom was a fake midwife, before she became a real one. Kinda heard a lot about everything.” Robin grabbed the coffee pot from the middle of the table and filled the mug in front of Maleficent. “Lily’s not exactly subtle.”

Midwife. Pieces clicked together like she’d finally seen why the chess pieces were where they were. Dragons got pregnant, apparently, and Lily worried about it.

“She’s concerned.”

“She loves you.”

Maleficent took a breath and smiled, really smiled, all bright and happy. “I’m not accustomed to anyone trying to protect me.”

“It’s a little freaky. You’ll have to give her some time to get used to it.”

Yeah, it bloody well would be freaky if your mom got pregnant when you were Lily’s age. Not really unheard of, everyone’s age was all messed up. Papa was young, Queen Regina was apparently at least fifty years older than she looked, so was Zelena, and the Charmings.

“Who’s the father?” Alice asked over her champagne. “Are you excited?”

Robin’s elbow slammed into her ribs.

“Ouch.”

“You can’t just ask that.”

Alice began to protest, but Maleficent’s warm hand settled over hers. “It’s all right. I don’t mind. I haven’t told the father yet. She’s been very busy.”

“She?” That was far from the weirdest part of this conversation, but it was kind of cool if some kind of magic existed where two women could make a baby. Did one of them have to be a dragon? Did that mean she could have a little baby who would look like Robin some day?

“Zorro.”

“Zorro? Zorro’s a girl? That’s brilliant.”

Robin chuckled. “All the fairytales have to have a twist.”

“Anyway, congratulations, before I forget.”

“Thank you.” Maleficent squeezed her fingers before wrapping both of her hands around her coffee. “Lily’s right about the app thing, whatever that is, isn’t she?”

“They’re useful, if you have questions, or if you like tracking things. There are even cute things where it compares the size of your baby with a fruit or a cookie or something.”

“Why would you want to compare a baby to something edible?”

“Makes it less scary.” Alice offered. “Compare it to a marmalade sandwich and suddenly it seems like you can handle it.”

“I think that’s the idea,” Robin agreed.

“So, what’s Zorro like? All swashbuckling and mysterious?”

“She can be.” Maleficent stared upwards, towards the head table and Regina, Snow, David, Emma, the other version of Papa, and Henry. “Kind of brash, really, the first time we met, she wandered into my castle, brave enough to face the dragon.”

“No wonder you liked her. It really means something when someone isn’t afraid of you.”

Robin nuzzled her cheek and whispered. “I’ll never be afraid of you, Tower Girl.”

Blushing a little, Alice took Robin’s hand. “So you haven’t told Zorro?”

“We haven’t had the right moment.”

“Is there a right moment?”

“It’ll never be perfect,” Robin said. “You just have to be brave.”

“Is that what you did, dear?” Maleficent’s smile went soft and indulgent.

“We both had to be brave enough to work it out, luckily for us, it was all true love and rainbows,” Alice teased, and Robin rolled her eyes.

“There were rainbows, but it definitely wasn’t easy.”

“It never is. All kinds of love and complicated. Even when it’s true, or as simple as the love of a mother for her child. Lily grew up far away from me, and since I found out about this little one, I can’t help worrying that somehow I’ll lose this one too.”

“No, no, don’t think that. We’re at the end of the book now, everyone gets a happy ending. Look at Regina, she was evil, now she’s good, and we all love her. She won’t let anyone take your little dragonling.”

“Auntie Regina’s pretty trustworthy that way, I promise, if you tell her, she can help,” Robin added.

Something shifted behind Maleficent’s eyes and she blinked twice, but that didn’t stop a single tear, running down from her left eye. “She’s found her place now, hasn’t she?”

“She’s happy.”

Alice grabbed her napkin and passed it to Maleficent. “It’s okay.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s really going to be okay,” Alice insisted, starting to ramble about how much they’d all overcome to get here, this crazy mashed together realm, but Maleficent knew that. She knew things were different now. Everyone, even formerly villainous dragons had a chance at their happy ending. “We all work together on things here, so, if you need a village to help protect a little wee dragon, then consider yourself family.”

Arms went around her quickly, strong, warm arms that smelled like a campfire on a cozy evening.

Hugs were apparently a thing that they did, and as far as hugs went, it was a strong one, tight and heartfelt.

“Everything all right?” Papa asked as Maleficent eventually let her go.

“Just getting to know each other,” Alice said, smiling at him.

“Turns out these two have a lot in common,” Robin said gently.

Lily’s concerned took a little longer to settle, but she sat, slowly losing the tension in her posture. “Making friends?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, I guess we did.”

“Okay.”

Maleficent touched Lily’s cheek. “It is, dear.”

Robin leaned in close enough that only Alice could hear. “Did you just volunteer us to babysit a little dragon?”

Giggling, Alice shrugged. “I might’ve.”

“Just checking.”

[birger-wuvs-elsa]

An Angel and a Dragon

Day Two of OCWatch 2017, Theme Domestic

Nikolai Reynaldé was lounging on the couch, not even giving the program on the television half of her attention. All she knew was that it was on and playing something. Nikolai had no idea what was actually happening; but then, she didn’t really care, either. The only thing that mattered to the Portuguese woman was the blonde angel that was sitting curled up and relaxed in her lap, head tucked comfortably beneath Nikolai’s chin. The woman’s arms were tucked close to her chest, while Nikolai’s were wrapped around her to hold her close.

Angela Ziegler, the gifted Swiss doctor who’d once been a part of Overwatch...and who’d actually been integral in a mission to save Nikolai’s own life.

Though that was an adventure in an of itself, that didn’t momentarily matter to Nikolai either. Not given the...less than healthy situation she’d been in before her anjo had appeared, led by “the cavalry” and a cowboy(?). In fact, save for the fact that was when she first met Angela—who’d introduced herself as Mercy at the time—Nikolai tried to forget everything else.

A beautiful laugh helped draw Nikolai out of her sullen musings, and she refocused on the blonde using her as a body pillow.

“What happened?” Nikolai inquired, but only half-heartedly, blinking down at Angela. “I wasn’t really paying attention, hehehe.”

Angela grinned at her chuckle, but it grew teasing as she tilted her head back to look at Nikolai. “I could tell, mein herz.” The blonde giggled as the affectionate term succeeded in making Nikolai blush. “The dragon just made the boy eat a raw fish he’d regurgitated, and given some of the European dishes I am used to, I found it especially amusing.”

The over-exaggerated gagging Nikolai immediately began making only caused Angela to outright laugh. The blonde turned around in Nikolai’s embrace and regarded the brunette with a fond smile.

“Come now, Nikolai. You’ve never tried any of the more...adventurous dishes, how do you know you don’t like them?”

Nikolai returned Angela’s soft gaze with a deadpan one. “The more my food looks like it does when it was alive, the more gross it seems. They may call me a dragon on the field, but that’s because of how awesome I am in my armor! I don’t eat like one!”

Angela raised one well-kept eyebrow. “I’ve seen you eat, Nikole. What you call a bite, the rest of the world calls a chipmunk’s mouthful. You’re squeamish in the strangest of times, but definitely draconic in your habits.”

Nikolai got a wicked grin as she saw an opening. “True, but you’ve never complained about my draconic habits in our bedroom.”

The fierce blush, accompanied by an adorably flustered expression as Angela pulled back to slap her shoulder, was exactly what the brunette was aiming for. Nikolai let the laughter go as she leaned her head back on the couch, not paying attention as Angela shifted. As she felt the blonde settle, the new position oddly enough being a straddling one, Nikolai looked down. Where one eyebrow had at first been lifted questioningly, both were now raised in surprise and...something else...

She’d been laughing so hard, Nikolai had distracted herself enough for Angela to straddle her hips and take off the sweater she’d been wearing all at once. As Nikolai’s eyes locked on the blonde’s bra-clad chest, and a familiar (and very welcome) fire ignited in her belly, she heard soft chuckling coming from above.

“That is very true indeed...so tell me...” Nikolai didn’t resist when nimble fingers touched her chin, and lifted her gaze to meet Angela’s. “Is mein drachen feeling hungry tonight?”

Without a word, but a very bestial growl, Nikolai grabbed a firm hold of Angela’s waist and stood.

A couple hours later found the couple in peaceful—and quite cuddly, actually—sleep. Nikolai lay on her back, one arm beneath Angela and wrapped around her waist; the blonde herself laying on her side as she hugged the brunette in her sleep. Angela had been the first to slip into slumber, Nikolai having taken advantage of still being awake to admire her lover before giving in as well.

Nikolai would never understand Morrison’s aversion to the domestic...not when she got to share it with an angel.

[shardclan]

Here’s the Clan Aphaster specific map, which I feel pretty pleased with, and will probably reference pretty much constantly.

Below the cut are some basic descriptions of locations including some points of interest not pictured, and just my sort of collated thoughts from other posts.

This is going to be An Important Lore Post(tm), but only because it will be a nice central world-building summary.

Left to right:

Diver’s March: Borderland protected by the Water Representative. Due to Peacetide’s death and Boreas declining to take the position, it remains empty until a suitable and trustworthy Representative can be found to become the Water Margrave. Boreas serves as the Head Knight of the area.

Sundew Fishery: Equal parts seafood pantry and fish nursery that reports to the Water Margrave. In spawning season, they cease local fishing activity, ensure the river is kept peaceful, and monitor the fish for signs of sea lice and other pestilence.

Summerland Spa: The sister site to the Starwood Spa, opened after Pistis decides on a proper site, hires replacements for Camellia and Willow, and re-establishes trade with Aeronwy by developing new Light-based products to replace those exclusive to the Starwood Spa. Once House Betelgeuse’s port is operational, the Starwood Spa also re-opens with Camellia as primary management. Pistis moves between the two. Their opening products include Chickweed Oil and Whitesand scrubs, Day Lily therapy (to assist in the correction of fouled circadian rhythms), and celestine soaking pools. Primarily defended by the Water Margrave, but the Shadow Margrave also guards the spa.

Leyline Gardens and Solar Farms: Pre-existing branch of the Leyline Gardens, which are present in Arcane, Light, Nature, and Fire. With their founder Tawhaki and their manager Chlorophyll both lost during the Exodus, Kea takes responsibility for the local branch as the best fit and also passes through House Betelgeuse to tend to the original Arcane branch, which she is eventually able to leave its care to the Longnecks with the agreement that Clan Aphaster may take 30% of the yield. The Solar Farms crop up downland from the food growing area when Suncore and Amonix arrive to the clan and develop a local power grid.

House Perihelion: Formed initially as a socio-political group of the clan who believed it was best to explore ways to thrive in the Sunbeam Ruins, and that there was nothing un-Arcane about doing so. They play with new ideas, are the first to bond with new ally clans, and are the backing force behind most of the clan’s new technologies and exports, such as the Solar Farms, the Glassworks and Textiles sections of the Twilight Labs and Artisan’s Guild, and the Summerland Spa. Their founding motto was “Stella a stella est” or “A star is a star”

Earthsong Nursery: (Not pictured)  Because House Perihelion’s architecture was so new and required a lot of effort and energy, Eoria and her sisters gave the power of their songs to help quickly facilitate the construction and boost the capabilities of the Earth Mage who had to mold the materials he was provided. Because the raw magic of the songs were channeled through Eoria’s runes, she fell into a deep sleep that she was not expect to wake from for several eons. The remaining sisters, Metafalica,  Harvestasha, and Frelia, created the clan’s nursery area in the enclosure created by her arms. It is regarded as the safest place in the territory.

Foxfire March: The only one of the four marches to have been immediately manned and given a name because Caress, the Shadow Representative, immediately took the offer to become the Shadow Margrave when it was offered to her. Her Head Knight is Tawny, but the area is known to be an exceptionally peaceful pleasure district, so mostly he plays cards and does fire tricks for the ladies. One could almost be fooled into thinking he was complacent if they knew nothing about the local Margravine.

Thunder’s March: The march that sees the most traffic as it’s situated at the end of Trader’s Walk. It was a clunky and much argued over march at first, but began to flourish and flow properly when Noon Point cropped up Then it became possible to direct weary travelers there and keep the arrivals moving while simultaneously being able to observe them on the rest of the path.

Noon Point: A small midway resting town largely brought into being by virtue of being half-way between House Betelgeuse and House Perihelion, but which was able to flourish via its proximity to Trader’s Walk. Travelers can access many services here, including but not limited to: Noon Point Inn, Sundial Brewery, 11 Flights Mail Service, Sunway Ranger and Escorting, and Occult Services.

Nature’s March: The longest to go without a Margrave due to the difficulty inherent in crossing the open ocean from Nature to Light. Opalite is the watchdog, paying it visits daily to ensure everything is well, but a proper Margrave and Knight set up is not in place until the clan begins work on carving out a new Step and building a trader’s bridge from Mirrorlight Bay to the Everspring Isles.

Hall of Five Lights: Originally a flatland area outside the Promenade where the entire clan would gather to sleep at night in their first tumultuous days in the territory. The first task of the Earth Mage who eventually built House Perihelion was to turn it into a proper gathering area. The clan was still shy of roofing at the time, so the side was large arcades and open tunnel vaults. Eventually, it became the governmental area, and as their loyalty was proved to the Lightweaver, they were allowed to bring the pieces of the Chalcedony Circle to prevent their misuse in the Isles, so long as they were interwoven with blocks of white granite and pathing stones were mixed with celestine  to prevent activation and eventually drain their long-built stores of magic. The four paths are the entrance/exit, the Tribunal Hall, the resting place of the Chalcedony Seat, and a longer path which leads to the Promenade Medical Hall.

Promenade Medical Hall: Originally opened at it’s location because it was where everyone was gathering at night. Eventually remained due to proximity to Noon Point and Trader’s Walk, and to espouse Haematica’s intent to serve either House with absolute neutrality. Tungsten still technically works there mixing salves and seeing to general health concerns, but her work on the Tribune often keeps her busy.

Twilight Labs and Artisans (A): Called the Twilight Guild for short. This site came first and is situated on the outskirts of what piece of the Hewn City exists on the mainland. It contains the Alchemy Labs, the Forge, and the Smallcraft Area.

Twilight Labs and Artisans (B): Also called the Twilight Guild for short. This site came into being when new industries and new processes required new space. It contains the Textile Workshop, the Glassworks, and the Processing Area for large materials brought by House Betelgeuse. Site B is connected to Site A by a waste pipe which leads out to Rot Cliff. 

Rot Cliff: An outlet area for waste generated by the clan, organic, alchemical, or otherwise. It is managed entirely by two plague dragons. One utilizes her powers as a Rot Witch to decompose harmless wastes and deliver them back to the mainland for use as fertilizer or fuel. The other eats and/or drinks harmful wastes and liquid run-offs best not left to flow out to the ocean.

House Betelgeuse: Formed initially as a sociopolitical group of the clan who believed in preserving the old ways and preserving their relationships and ability to return to the Starfall isles. The first thing they accomplished toward this goal was portal magic that initially relied on locking onto the signature of the Chalcedony Seat. With their newfound ability to come and go, they were able to  arrange for the Starfall longneck clans they were friendly with to ‘inherit’ their territory until such time as they could return. They also staged an effort retrieve lost articles and were able to allow the members of the clan who couldn’t leave the Isles to come to their new clan. Theirs was a house that enjoyed massive popularity due to their pursuits in closure for the clan, but fell out of it just as quickly due to the first founder overstepping their boundaries. While they drew the ire of the Lightweaver, it was through the corrective action that Telos took the god saw where the loyalty of the clan lied, and allowed the house to keep existing. Their founding phrase, quickly struck down as it was, was ‘Higher than the Sun’.

Skyboat Docks: Clan Skyboat is a nomadic clan primarily composed of 11 peppy fae and one snuffling, sleepy imperial who make it their business to fly the sick, injured, or naturally flightless safely across Sornieth. They came to an agreement with Clan Aphaster to use some of their open flat land as a dock area in Light.  While they originally made their business proposition to House Perihelion, they ended up creating the dock near House Betelgeuse because they were interested in the gravity magics used to keep the entire structure floating off the Hewn Canyon cliff-side. The skyboat itself comes and go, but two fae: a mechanic and a Glasswings ace, usually remain on-site to act as Liasions and are treated as honorary members of Clan Aphaster.

[ask-de-writer]

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 23 of 83 : World of Sea

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

Part 23 of 83

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

copyright 2020

written 2007

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

//////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users   of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may   reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information   remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in   my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical   compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here

///////////////////////

Chapter 6: A Problem of Ship’s Business

Kurin sat in the shade of her small toy booth, as she had for every Gathering market since Cat had gone back to the sea with her mate, Dark Iren.  The wind fluttered the dagged edge of her awning, making the embroidered birds and fish seem to fly and swim.  In front of her were toy fishing boats and small sailing boats that would actually work.  There were also soft flexible Strong Skin fish and Glue Fish, Wing Rays, lobsters and crabs.  All the creatures were fashioned out of a modified form of glue and the Strong Skin scraping dust left over from boat building. Behind her, on prominent display, was a large model of the Longin under full sail, with all sails and rigging neatly done.   As usual, there was a knot of children and a few adults in front of her booth, and trade was brisk.

Quietly, the crowd parted.  Approaching her booth were the woman and man that she had seen come from the Dark Dragon and the Soaring Bird.  They stopped in front of her booth and seated themselves cross-legged, regarding her curiously.  The woman’s big scabbards were no longer empty.  The odd looking one on her right leg held an ax like none that Kurin had ever seen before.

“Are you not Kurin Behar Longin of the Naral fleet?” asked the Captain of the Dark Dragon, tilting her red-brown head curiously.  Her lively green eyes had taken in the toys on the board and she was studying them intently.

“I am.  May I get you something?” asked Kurin.  “I can send for food and water, if you wish it.”

The two Captains regarded each other a moment.  “That would be appreciated.  It is well past noon, and we have not yet had a chance to get food.  You are most courteous.”  The woman gestured towards herself, “Allow me to introduce us.  I am Captain Sula Corin Dark Dragon of Winternight, guest of the Corlis fleet and this is the Honored Captain Huld Barsan Soaring Bird of the Barant fleet.  We have come from the other side of the world to get news of a ship and crew favored by the presence of a Great Sea Dragon.  Every one that we speak to, says this or that and then adds speak to Kurin.  She knew the Dragon best.  So, we have come to speak to you.”

Just then, a large red haired man jostled Captain Sula aside and started to point at one of Kurin’s toys with a long knife with large jagged teeth down the cutting edge.  Kurin knew the style of weapon and thought little of it.  A show-off’s toy, prone to breakage.  “Give me that one,” he demanded.  “I know someone who wants it.”

“Mister Kotance,” she said sharply, “I would like you to meet Captain Sula Corin Dark Dragon.”  Meanwhile, Sula and Huld had risen to their feet.

Kotance turned to Captain Huld and said, “Sir, my apologies for bumping into your wife.”

Sula took Kotance’s knife hand, the front of his shirt and stamped across his instep as she pulled the startled Kotance from his feet. As he hit the raft face first, she wrapped his knife hand around behind him and pushed up, her knee in the middle of his back.  She wasn’t even breathing hard as she said, “I am Captain Sula.  Drop the knife or I break your arm.”

Kotance made an abortive attempt to break free of her hold then dropped the knife as Sula began to press his arm against the joint.  She immediately released him and stepped back, ready.

Sula smiled the coldest smile that Kurin had ever seen as she said, “You have interrupted the business of Captains.  Please put away your toy and leave us.”

Kotance, scowling and rubbing a sore shoulder, put the knife into its scabbard and left.

“I’m sorry about that,” said Kurin. “Just a moment while I get someone to watch the booth for me, then we can talk — — Hey! Roper!  Will you watch my booth for a bit?  I’ll give you lunch and a toy off the board.”

The boy that she called to came up and slid into place behind the counter.  “Done.  Can I get the lunch right away?  I’m starving.”

Laughing, Kurin went with the Captains to Marad’s food booth.  He and some apprentices were preparing fresh shellfish and other delicacies on the spot.  “Hi, Marad.  Would you send some water, a pair of fish cakes, a slice of crab cake and some redweed salad to Roper?  He’s watching my booth.”

“Sure, Dragon-hair.  What will you have?” he answered, turning to adjust the reflector of one of the solar heaters used for steaming and boiling crab, lobster and shrimp.  It was made of large, highly reflective, side-jumper scales, glued to a backing of Strong Skin.

“The same for me.  What will you have, Captain Sula, Captain Huld?” she asked turning to them.

She saw Captain Mord and Alor discussing the morning’s Council session at a nearby table.  She overheard Alor saying heatedly, “If the Captains can’t even make it illegal, we Pursers will have to do something!  It’s costing hundreds of Skins a Gathering!”  Kurin made a note to ask about it later.  For now she had another fish on her line.

They took their lunches and Sula and Huld led the way to the Council Pavilion.  Seating themselves in its shade, they began to eat.  

Sula asked, “What did your cook mean, calling you Dragon-hair?”

Kurin pulled her sea-foam white hair over her shoulder.  “This, Captain Sula.  It was my parting gift from Cat — — that is Blind Mecat. My hair used to be almost black.  It reminds me of her because now it’s the same color as hers was.”

“I see,” said Huld, writing in a blank book made of supple paperfish parchment.  “Know her how did you come to?”

“She was always a part of the Longin, as far back as my memory goes, Captain Huld.  We didn’t know that she was a Great Sea Dragon until the end.  The Longin picked her up from the open sea as an infant, drifting in a tiny boat, about twenty four Gatherings ago.  She was made the foster daughter of Alor, our Captain’s mother, who is also the Longin’s Purser.  About six and a half Gatherings ago, my father died, and my mother went mad from grief.  I was too filled with my own heartache even to cry.  

“Cat took care of me like a Wide Wing with a chick and helped me to get over it.  While she was at it, without trying to, she taught me that I could do anything.  Because of that teaching, I’m not an apprentice boat-builder anymore.  I’m a full journeyman and consequently a legal adult.  I also work in the rope-walk, the weaving shop, the net shop, the galley, and the Captain is teaching me how to navigate with instruments and arithmetic.

“Cat just did anything that needed doing anywhere on the ship.  She worked up in the rigging, and in every shop.  She fished and dove for shells.  Whatever she did, she showed me or shared with me.  She always had time for me.”

“Position in crew she had what?  Did she so much?” asked Huld with great interest.

“Oh, she wasn’t in the crew, Captain Huld.  Her name kept her out.  They were afraid of bad luck from her name, so they never gave her a position in the crew.”

“This Honored one, would find honor more if Huld you call him,” he said with a small bow.

“As always, Honored one, you lead me in courtesy.”  Turning to Kurin Sula added, “Please, call me Sula.”

“Name Cat unlucky how was?” asked Huld, critically inspecting his bone pen point

“It was short for Mecat.  Her name goes back to how the Longin found her. A storm blew the Longin off course, way north, to the Dragon Sea. There, they found a little boat,” Kurin gestured with her hands, about three feet apart, “with a baby in it.  On the boat, someone had written Mecat.  She told me that she always hoped that whoever wrote it there was asking the Dragon to look after her instead of wishing her ill.

“Everyone knows that it is bad luck to name someone with a Great Sea Dragon’s name, but fleet Law and naming Custom left no choice.  With no mother name first, and no father’s clan name second, all that was left to her was a ship name, and that was Mecat, the Dragon’s name. She contrived to make me feel sorry for her, with her crippled name.  That was the start of my healing.”

Just then, a few young deck-hands from the Fauline came up, raucously, they called, “Hey, White-hair!  Teach us to feel the bottom, too! Do you feel it with your own arse?  Do the crabs pinch?  I’ll bet that’s how you know where they are!”  One of them felt the other’s bottom and gave a pinch, in imitation of a crab.  They were near doubled over with laughter at their witticisms.

Without getting up, or seeming even to look, Sula reached up behind her and grabbed the shirt of the ringleader.  Before he could brace himself, he was slammed to the deck in front of her, on his back, stunned. She leaned over him, speaking venomously,  “You are rude.  You interrupt the talk of Captains.  If this were my command, I would hang you over the side of the Dark Dragon and feed you to a hungry Strong Skin, feet first.  Now, your name, your ship and your Captain!”

“Thelo, deck-hand of the Fauline, Captain Skua,” he replied in shock, struggling to get his wind back.

“You will be reported, Thelo,” Sula said grimly.  Effortlessly she picked him up as she rose to her feet.  She threw him into his cronies, knocking them down like nine-pins.

Kurin was startled at this display of skill and raw strength, though nowhere near as much as the young ruffians who were picking themselves up off the deck, and scrambling away.  What they said penetrated through her surprise.  Looking worried, she excused herself, “Sula, Huld, I must find my Captain.  Someone has been spreading Ship’s Business where it should not be.”

TO BE CONTINUED

<==PREVIOUS   NEXT==>

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[ask-de-writer]

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : World of Sea : Part 64

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

copyright 2018

written 2007

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

//////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions. All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here

///////////////////////

Kurin watched her unbar the door of the cabin as she thought about it.  She said, “No, I don’t think so.  He used to be my friend.  I just wish that I understood how things went so wrong.”  She looked a mute appeal at Tanlin and added, “How could he hate me so?  I never did anything to him.”

Tanlin paused before opening the door.  She considered before answering, “Nae t’ ‘ear Silor tell t’e tale.  ‘E believes t’at ye were t’e author o’ all o’ ‘is misfortunes.  According t’ ‘im, ye were a Dragon-wicken an’ ‘eld t’e ‘ole Naral fleet in t’e palm o’ yer ‘and.”

Kurin was taken aback.  “You mean it?” she asked.  “What could put him so far onto dry land?”

Tanlin looked at Kurin with pity in her eyes.  “Oi’ve been tryin’ t’ tell ye.  ‘E’s insane w’ere ye are concerned.  ‘E believes ‘imsel’ a tragic ‘ero, persecuted for ridding t’e fleet o’ a deadly an’ unperceived menace.”

“Lady Tanlin,” came a forlorn voice from within the cabin, “I can hear you out there.  Who is with you?  Has the fleet come to their senses yet?”

Tanlin opened the cabin door, leaned in, and said, “Silor, someane ‘as come t’ speak wit’ ye.  She’ll be representin’ t’e Grandalor before a fleet tribunal.  Will ye tell ‘er t’e exact trut’ o’ yer involvement in t’e poisoning?  ‘T may ‘elp our case.”

Silor’s voice answered, calm and assured, “Of course I will talk to her but it is a waste of time.  No case will be needed.  The Witch is dead and in a short time her curses will be gone.  When people are themselves again, they will know themselves freed.”

Kurin spoke from out in the hall where Silor couldn’t see her.  “Silor, you were a good student at learning to navigate by wave and current. Do you know where we are?”

He replied with confidence, “We are in the Dragon Sea.  It was clever of Captain Barad to bring us here.  No fleet owns these waters.  We will be safe here.”

“What of the Great Sea Dragons?  If Mecat taught the witch, perhaps they will not like your having killed her,” Kurin said.

“Dragons live too long to care much about any particular human.  They won’t care one way or the other,” Silor replied airily.

“I’m afraid that you’re wrong about that, Silor,” said Kurin, stepping into his view.

“You’re dead,” he said flatly.  “Nobody can survive Ord poisoning.  Your dying is why the Grandalor had to flee in the first place.”

“No,” Kurin contradicted, “I lived.  The sailor that you duped into poisoning me is the one who died.”

Silor looked at her in dread and leaped at the conclusion that fit his delusion.  “You turned the Ord against the man who poisoned you!” he accused.

“I didn’t have to,” Kurin said quietly.  “The Corliss fleet knows how to heal Ord poisoning.  Sula carried me to her ship and Doctor Worran cured me.  The sailor that you gave the poisoned awl to wasn’t so lucky.  He got the poison through his shirt from carrying the awl in his pocket.  It got to his lungs first.  The doctor tried but she couldn’t save him.”

A wild glint entered Silor’s eyes and he shouted, “Don’t lie!  It was you!  You and that evil Dragon magic!  You killed him just like you did your father!”

Kurin recoiled as if she had been struck.  The very idea that she would have harmed her father was past simply shocking.  It was truly sickening and called to mind her mother’s accusations as she sank into madness.

Silor bunched his legs under him as he paused for breath.  “What does it take to kill you?” he screamed, lunging at Kurin, arms outstretched, hands clawed.

“More’n ye’ve got, Lad!” said Tanlin as she pounced almost into his path and grabbed his arm as he passed, spinning him headfirst into the wall.  Kimson landed on top of him and Tanlin calmly pulled her knife from concealment.  She laid its blade against Silor’s throat and added, “Mister Kimson’s goin’ t’ get off o’ ye, an’ ye’re goin’ t’ get onto yer bunk very slowly.  I’ ye try t’ ‘arm Kurin again, ye die.  Clear?”

Tears of rage and frustration in his eyes, Silor mutely nodded.  Carefully, Kimson released Silor, who slowly got to his feet and sat on his bunk.

Dully, he asked, “I heard whales, who else has she killed?”

As Kurin was about to protest, Tanlin waived her to silence and answered, “Nane.  We lost ane killed outright an’ ane mortal injured.  Yer Longin did t’ose murders an’ some ot’er injuries as well.

“Just gettin’ Kurin ‘ere ‘ad a ‘eavy price.  Macoul t’e steersman died o’ a cut t’roat an’ Lenai Halin died later o’ an abdominal wound.”

That brought a reaction of disgust from Silor.  “So, the witch got to you too?  She made you sacrifice good people just to finish her revenge on me?”

At that, Kurin would not be silent.  “Revenge?  What for?  No witchcraft is needed.  I never lifted a finger against you.  You bring yourself down!”  Bitterly, she added, “If I was a witch, I’d have just changed you so that you wouldn’t care.”

“You knew that I was here on the Grandalor!  How?”

“You were careless.  You were seen at the Gathering,” Kurin retorted angrily.  “Even the sailor that you killed told us it was you before he died.  You are under the same execute on sight order that you got put onto Barad and all the officers of this ship with your murder plot.”

That brought Silor up short.  “Barad?  He tried to stop us.  Why would the Council order him executed?”

Tanlin burst in, icily angry, “M’ too, as an officer o’ t’e Grandalor.  We’re all t’ be executed on sight because o’ ye. Our ‘ope lies in Kurin’s ‘ands an’ t’e jaws o’ t’e Dragons.  T’e Dragons ‘ave let us ‘arbor ‘ere in neutral woters but we cannae go t’rough t’em t’ escape t’e justice o’ a fleet t’at seems t’ ‘ave nane.”

Silor began to whimper and curl up.  “I tried to save you all.  I never wanted to hurt anybody. . .”  He uncurled an accusing arm, pointing at Kurin.  “If she is your hope, you are as doomed as I am. . .”  He collapsed, eyes rolled back in his head, still breathing but showing no other sign of life.

Shaking and slapping elicited no response.  Silor was gone where none could follow.

Sadly Tanlin said to a thoroughly shocked Kurin, “Oi warned ye.  ‘E wa’ so far ont’ dry land t’at not’ing could bring ‘im bock t’ safe woter.”  She looked grimly down at Silor’s still form and reached a decision.

“Oi’m proof t’at Doctor Corin can care for a person in a coma.  T’he doctor’ll care for ‘im until ‘e recovers or simply dies.” She turned to Kimson.  “Guard ‘im until men come t’ take ‘im t’ sickbay.  See t’at ‘e’s restrained after ‘e’s taken t’ere.”  

She led Kurin back to the Captain’s cabin.  Barad was out and they had the place to themselves.  Tanlin ordered food and drink for Kurin and then said, “T’at wa’ awful.  Oi wad never ‘ave guessed t’at ‘e wad just retreat like t’at.  Wat now?”

Kurin had no answer.  She simply sat and shook, crying inside but not allowing the tears to reach the surface.

Sympathetically, Tanlin sat by her and held her hand.

With a bit of scratching at the window, Thunderhead entered the cabin with a skelt in his beak.  Tanlin looked up at the big Sea Hawk and smiled.

“Ye’re right, T’under’ead.  She does need lookin’ after just now. T’anks for t’e ‘elp.”  She took the small fish and held it out to Kurin.  “‘Ere, youngster.  Take a bite so ‘e’ll know t’at ‘e’s ‘elped.  Friends ‘oo’re ‘urt need food t’ get well.  Tis all t’at ’e knows ‘ow t’ do for ye.”

“It’s raw,” Kurin said, a bit of smile beginning to show around the edges of her shock.

“T’at’s ‘ow tis best for young birds,” said Tanlin tolerantly.  “Go on, ‘e’s really tryin’ t’ ‘elp.”

Kurin took a small bite of the fish and realized that the skelt was good, even raw.  She set to nibbling around the coarse bones until most of the meat was gone, Thunderhead watching critically.  Tanlin absently scratched him under the right wing.

By the time that she was done with the fish, Kurin had a grip on herself.  The distraction provided by the somewhat comic antics of the bird and having to eat as well, helped.

There was a knock at the cabin door and Benj, the cabin-boy entered with a tray.  It had sliced, hard-boiled paddle duck eggs, red-weed bread and dried fillets of skelt for Kurin to eat.  Beside the water bottle were sweet and tart flavors.

By the time that she was done eating the simple fare, Kurin had regained her composure.  She gave Tanlin a measuring look.

“I have all the information that I am likely to get,” Kurin announced, “and I have begun to outline a multi-issue defense.  You said that you could summon the fleet Council and the Longin.  I would like to see how you do that from here.”

TO BE CONTINUED

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