The Dragon Isles: Grey Dragon

[tygati]

First, I must squee. flamebyrd made me pixel dolls of Aeynanyi and Mirofal! ^____^





^_____^ I need to do something with them. Icon maybe? >.> Or I could stick them on my userpage to guard my story links... ^_____^ Hee. *bounce*

Aaaaand.... >.> Like, half the length of Silver, we have...

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Crown Prince Teynaise's life was, to put it mildly, unique. The oldest memory he could consciously remember was watching one of his nursemaids, Buidhe, literally rip a man's arms off and leave him to bleed to death on the floor. Apparently he'd been an assassin or a kidnapper or something of that sort. No one was every really sure which, given that he expired before he could be questioned.

No one ever bothered to tell Teynaise that such things weren't normal. Up until he overheard a conversation between two of the servants assigned to clean his rooms, it hadn't occurred to him that there was anything unusual about his four nursemaids.

"You'd think someone as spoiled as he is would be messier."

"When does he have time to be messy, with all of them watching over him like hawks?"

A laugh. "Yes, he is the most well-guarded prince in the whole world, isn't he? No one would dare try to harm him with them on guard."

"Not anymore, at least."

"Oh? What do you mean?"

"Someone tried to break into the nursery when his Highness was only two. No one knows if the goal was to kill him or kidnap him..."

"The man wasn't questioned?"

"There wasn't enough left of him to question."

"Oh. Oh my. Was it... one of them? The dragons?"

"Who else would do that and not think twice? I swear sometimes they think our prince is a baby dragon."

Teynaise knew what dragons were. He had four nursemaids who were very protective of him, Buidhe, Dithean, Rionnag, and Sianionn, and they were all dragons. He was five before he finally figured out that 'dragon' didn't mean 'has funny-looking feet and long nails and pretty ears that were usually hidden underneath their bright hair.' But why the servants thought Buidhe or the others treated him like a baby dragon, he didn't know. He didn't look at all like a dragon. His ears were round and boring, his feet and toes were the same, and no matter how much he tried to let his fingernails grow, Rionnag always cut them short again. He didn't look at all like a dragon. He looked like uncle Mirofal. That part was good; he liked uncle Mirofal. But he'd rather look like a dragon.

When he was five, he learned what a dragon really was. When he was five, he got to ride a dragon for the first time.

After that, Teynaise was rather sorely miffed that he'd been born human. He had boring ears and boring hair and no scales and he couldn't fly. That was the part that vexed him the worst, to the point where he incessantly pestered his nursemaids, uncle Aeyn, and every other dragon in the palace to give him rides as often as possible.

He spent a lot of time thinking about the differences between dragons and other people, and more time trying to emulate the graceful, slinky way the dragons moved. It took a lot of practice, but he didn't want to be clumsy and awkward like the other people. Like humans. If he couldn't look like a dragon, he could at least try to act like one. He wished he really had been born a baby dragon.

Fortunately for Teynaise's life (One does not ask Deyllgo for a ride, he learned) and everyone else's sanity, shortly before his seventh birthday he met the one person who could successfully keep him occupied for hours upon end.

He was out in one of the lesser-used gardens after having escaped from his loving but overprotective nursemaids, lying on his belly in the grass and enjoying the sunlight as he watched fallen flower petals drift across the small pond. He'd managed to shed the confining clothing Sianionn had forced him into, deaf to his protestations about how uncomfortable it was, and was quite cheerfully pretending he wasn't a dumb human and was really a dragon in disguise. Maybe he was just a slow grower, after all. He'd never seen a baby dragon, so maybe they just took a little time to grow into their scales!

Yeah right. He sighed, blowing little flower petals every which way.

"Hmm, escaped from the octopi, did you?" a bemused voice observed.

Teynaise sat up quickly, scowling. They weren't supposed to find him this quickly! But, no, it wasn't any of his nursemaids. For one thing, his nursemaids were all female. Once the sun-haze faded from his eyes he could see the slender, graceful form of the dragon striding lazily across the lawn, differing shades of grey hair falling haphazardly across his bare shoulders and down his chest.

"Octopi?" he echoed cautiously as the dragon dropped down into the grass next to him.

The dragon laughed. "Your incredibly clingy keepers. I think I'd go mad if I had people following me everywhere, much less those leeches. I don't envy you a bit, human prince."

Teynaise scowled. "My name is Teynaise," he announced flatly.

"Of course it is," the dragon agreed cheerfully. "Mine's Liath. Want to play?"

Blinking, Teynaise looked up at the older boy. "Play?" he echoed. "What kind of play?"

Grinning widely enough to show the slightly-pointy teeth that was yet another feature dragons had and Teynaise lacked, Liath produced a small wooden sailing ship and a slightly smaller carved dragon from behind his back. "Oh, I don't know... I'm rather fond of 'dragon sinks the royal fleet' myself..."

They sank so many ships in the pond that the gardeners started complaining. In response, Liath and Teynaise simply moved their games elsewhere. In good weather they were outdoors (climbing trees, destroying statuary, and learning how to hunt seagulls barehanded) while in foul weather they stalked the palace halls, practicing their hunting skills by sneaking up on servants. (One point if they screamed, two points if they dropped what they were carrying, and five points if they fainted)

If he suspected that uncle Mirofal and uncle Aeyn might have had something to do with the teenage dragon's willingness to play with the much younger human, it was swiftly overshadowed by the sheer amount of fun he got out of the friendship. It was Liath who snuck him out of his incredibly boring Lessons. It was Liath who brought him goodies when he wasn't feeling well. It was Liath who understood completely his dislike for his all-too-human clothing and helped him hide his entire wardrobe in strange locations throughout the palace.

It was also Liath who first discovered his magic, albeit not intentionally.

They'd been perched on the third floor landing, dropping little blobs of pudding on the heads of those who chanced to walk by (With the exception of Deyllgo and Cion, because that was just asking to get all your bones snapped in half) and Liath had leaned out a bit too far in his efforts to drop a decent-sized glob on Uaine's head. He'd lost his balance with a rather startled yelp and Teynaise had looked up just in time to see him go over the edge.

When he'd gotten all the way down the stairs to the bottom floor he'd discovered that Liath certainly didn't do things by halves. Not only had he fallen two floors to break several bones when he hit the floor, he'd also somehow managed to catch his arm on an iron candelabra on the way down and tear a bone-deep gash from elbow to wrist. Having grown up around nursemaids who preferred to eat their food raw, Teynaise hadn't batted an eye as he found himself kneeling in the spreading pool of dragon blood with his hands on Liath's arm. It was just blood. The unsettling part was when the injury stopped bleeding and started knitting back together right before his eyes.

He didn't remember anything past that point. Uncle Mirofal told him by the time he and uncle Aeyn had gotten there Liath didn't have a single scratch and Teynaise was unconscious. He'd remained unconscious for the better part of a day, after which he'd been given a scolding and even more lessons, though these lessons he didn't mind so much because they were with uncle Aeyn. Uncle Aeyn had explained that Teynaise had healing magic, and when he'd healed Liath he'd used too much, too fast, which was why he'd passed out. He'd then explained how to heal injuries just enough that they'd be able to mend properly on their own while still conserving your strength enough to be able to help if someone else needed you as well.

When he'd asked uncle Aeyn why he'd need to heal more than one person, the dragon had quite calmly detailed out wars and battles and pirates and things that gave him nightmares for a week. After that, though, he'd paid more attention to his lessons, both the magic and the mundane, and made a promise to himself that he was going to protect all of his people from terrible things like that.

The only person he told about the promise was Liath, who thought very carefully before sneaking him into the royal library where they started their own careful studying of wars and battles and what had caused them, making notes on anything they thought would help to keep their kingdom safe. He got the feeling that Liath had probably told uncle Aeyn, because at one point Liath arrived with three really, really old books that had been written by dragons a very long time ago and were particularly useful for getting an unbiased, observer's point of view on several ancient conflicts.

But for the most part he was still a young boy gradually turning into a young man, and acquiring all the problems inherent in growing up. The most frustrating and pressing of those problems being the fact that he found himself admiring his friend's sleek body at inappropriate times, wondering what it would feel like to touch certain parts of Liath, and his body reacting in entirely new and mortifying ways when he and the dragon got into wrestling matches. Worse, there was no one he could talk to about it, as his confidant was the source of his problem.

Fortunately if anyone noticed that Teynaise was willingly wearing his clothing or avoided touching Liath more than he strictly needed to, they didn't mention it. Nor did Liath seem to see anything was out of the ordinary, though he did give Teynaise a few puzzled looks when the young prince found alternatives to physical activities they'd once enjoyed. Really, there's no telling how long the growing crush would have lasted, unvoiced, if Teynaise hadn't decided one morning that he wanted to go flying.

"You know we'll get in trouble if they find out we've left the palace," Liath pointed out, trying to sound older and wiser and doing a lousy job of hiding the way he was bouncing from foot to foot and only barely keeping from grinning.

"Probably," Teynaise agreed cheerfully, "But we've been known to hide for hours before, so it'll be a while before they miss us, and we'll be back before then, so no harm done?" He plastered on his best 'I am cute, spoil me' smile, causing Liath to snort.

"That doesn't work on me and it never has," Liath dryly pointed out, though now he really couldn't keep the grin off his face. "How long?"

"An hour?" Teynaise asked hopefully, trying to keep from jumping gleefully into the air.

Liath looked thoughtful. "You think we can stay away a whole hour without getting into trouble?" he mused, then shrugged. "Oh well. What are they going to do if they catch us, confine us to the palace?" He snickered.

Teynaise rolled his eyes. "Give more lessons, probably." He matched Liath's grin. "So... does that mean we can go?"

"Race you to the forest!" Liath challenged, bolting off with Teynaise hot on his heels. The two teens (Was Liath still a teenager? Dragon aging was strange) skidded around corners and knocked over at least one servant in their mad dash for the private suites before finally slowing just outside the room shared by uncle Mirofal and uncle Aeyn.

Liath checked to make sure it was empty - you never knew - and they both slipped inside, going to the far wall where there was a section of paneling that looked exactly like the rest of the paneling. The trick was, if you knew where to look for it, there was a tiny hidden switch that would make the wall open up and reveal the hidden passageway behind. It was a well-kept secret, one that only two humans and a handful of dragons knew. Supposedly for emergencies, it also worked rather nicely for when two young boys wanted to sneak out for a bit of fun.

They stepped inside, Liath taking his hand before closing the door, then the dragon led him unerringly through the pitch darkness to the far side where the passage let out at the rear of the castle. They did a quick check of the grounds to make sure no one was watching, then Liath shifted into his dragon form and Teynaise scrambled astride him. A moment later Liath leapt into the air, dragon wind magic lifting them high into the sky and out of sight in moments.

There was no better feeling than this, in Teynaise's mind. The total freedom of being high above the sky with the wind rushing through your hair and all your responsibilities being left far behind. He kept one hand on Liath's spine scales, the other flung out to feel the air as it streamed through his fingers. Between his knees he could feel the heat of the dragon's body and he impulsively ran his fingertips along the sleek grey scales.

Liath started, faltering in the air a moment as he tried to twist himself enough to stare back at Teynaise, then he snorted and swooped down in a wild dive that carried him dizzyingly fast across forest and mountain and a handful of tiny villages. Teynaise held on for dear life, exhilarating in the gut-wrenching feeling as Liath abruptly pulled up from his dive, skimming low over the treetops. He swore if Liath just dipped a little bit further he could reach out and touch them, though of course there was an entire bulk of dragon between himself and the green.

They'd slowed down a bit, just coasting along idly and beginning the long, slow loop that would bring them out to the edge of the island before circling back for home when Liath suddenly threw back his head and bucked, roaring in pain. Teynaise clung with all his strength, praying to the gods of the sea that he wouldn't fall even as he tried to focus enough to heal whatever was wrong with his friend. There was a brief blur of something beneath them and Liath roared again, his wings beating unevenly as the ground seemed to come up on them terribly fast.

There was a rather sickening cracking of branches - Teynaise hoped it was just branches and not fragile dragon wings - then a sudden lurch that sent him flying off Liath's back and tumbling head over heels into what had to be the sharpest, nastiest, evilest bush on the entire island. He fought with it for several minutes, as every time he thought he'd managed to free himself some other part of his clothing got snagged, finally managing to crawl out in time to see two rough-looking men tying Liath's hands (When had Liath shifted back to human?) behind his back.

"What do you think you're doing?" Teynaise demanded, stalking towards them and ignoring the way his scrapes and bruises ached. He had to see if Liath was hurt. "Release him at once!"

The two men looked up, appearing briefly startled, then both grinned. Teynaise blinked, then realized too late that he hadn't remembered to scan the area for other people in his haste to check on Liath. The last thought he had as a sharp pain blossomed in the back of his head and the world went dark was that uncle Mirofal was going to have his head for being so stupid. Or let Deyllgo punish him, which was infinitely worse.

He awoke slowly with a splitting headache, opening his eyes and promptly shutting them again as the room swam around him. He thought for a moment he might throw up, then he managed to focus enough to make the headache go away. This time, when he opened his eyes, the world more or less stayed put.

It was not a very big room. Entirely constructed from wood in a rather crude fashion by Teynaise's judgment, it held the stench of sweat and ale and other things he couldn't identify. It also held Liath, who was bound tightly with thick ropes and lying upon the floor. When he automatically tried to go to the dragon's side Teynaise discovered that he was tied similarly, though he appeared to be tied to a chair.

Someone behind him chuckled and he twisted his head trying to get a look at their captor. "Who are you?" he demanded. "What do you want?"

"Well, well, well," an unpleasant voice cooed. "We go out hunting a dragon, and the crown prince falls in our lap. The tides of fate must be smiling upon us, wouldn't you agree your highness?"

Teynaise held his head high, putting on what uncle Aeyn referred to as 'princely airs.' "I demand that you release us immediately."

The man laughed again, finally moving into Teynaise's field of view. He was big (Though Deyllgo still dwarfed him, Teynaise thought smugly) and ugly. Very ugly. He had more scars than Teynaise had ever seen, though he rather though that the scars were an improvement over the man's natural looks. "Come now, your majesty. Do you really think you're in any position to make demands?" he asked.

"I am the crown prince of Temnia," Teynaise announced as haughtily as he could manage. "On this island, my word is law. And I demand that you let myself and my companion go."

"Ah, but you see highness, we're not on your island. On the open seas, you're just a man like any other." The ugly man moved a little closer, grinning, then stepped back and sharply kicked Liath. The dragon made a soft whimpering sound, but did not wake. "But a man is still better than these freaks."

Heart in his throat, Teynaise forced himself not to react. Never let them see your fears, he'd been taught, or they will have power over you. "Even a freak is better than a scum of the seas pirate," he announced coldly. "Tell me what you want with us. Perhaps we can negotiate."

"Oh ho!" the man laughed. "The little sardine thinks he's a shark." He leaned in close enough that Teynaise could smell his rancid breath. "You want to know our demands, little princeling? I'll tell you." He pulled back just enough that Teynaise could see his eyes narrow as pure hatred flooded his face. "We want those monsters to go back to wherever it is they came from. You and your little pet monstrosities think you can just sit back and do whatever you want? Well the rest of the world doesn't want to bare its throat for you or your tame freaks!"

Teynaise smiled coldly, doing his very best to emulate Deyllgo in Not Amused mode. "I'd rather be around 'monsters' as you term them than foul, unwashed, flea-bitten bottom-feeders such as yourself. Would you mind backing up a few paces? I'm afraid your ugliness might be contagious."

With a roar the man backhanded him hard enough to knock over the chair Teynaise was tied to, sending him crashing to the floor. His cheek throbbed where he'd been struck, his head the same where it had collided with the wooden floor. The worst of the pain he managed to heal away before looking back up to catch the foul man's eyes. "Huh... you hit like a serving girl," he informed his captor calmly.

The next blow was harder than the first, and the third even moreso. A heavy boot impacted with his stomach and drove the breath straight out of him and it was all he could manage to heal each new injury as it came. Still, as long as the man's attention was on him, it wasn't on Liath. Teynaise could heal himself. Liath couldn't. Therefore, he could endure a little pain. Or so he was telling himself.

It was the blow to the head that did him in, as the sickening sensation of vertigo coupled with the throbbing pain made it far too difficult to concentrate on magic. Before the world went completely dark he managed to search out Liath's prone form, feeling a flicker of a smile come to his lips as the dragon's eyes began to slowly flutter open.

Liath's head hurt. Actually, his entire body hurt, but the pain in his head was more or less overriding everything else. He remembered getting shot out of the sky, and the pain of crashing, but nothing after that. What had happened? Was Teynaise all right? Teynaise!

Jerking his eyes open wide, Liath stared blindly around, disoriented for a moment. This was not the forest, or outdoors at all. Where was...

A hateful snarl drew his attention to the back of a large man whose unpleasant odor Liath could smell even as far away as he was. The man appeared to be savagely beating a smaller form that looked an awful lot like-

Liath saw red. His enraged shriek made Teynaise's assailant whirl and stare at him, though it was doubtful how much the man actually got to see before Liath summoned up enough dragonfire to fry him to a crisp and set half the room on fire in the process. He writhed heedlessly, nails digging deep furrows in his wrists as he slashed wildly at his bonds. Blood dripped down his arms and onto the floor, unnoticed, unimportant, as he freed his wrists and ankles before dashing over to check on his unconscious friend.

There were the beginnings of what would be painful bruises everywhere, and Teynaise's lip was bleeding. Liath sliced through his bonds with far more care than he'd shown with his own, pulling the teen into his arms gently, as mindful of the bruising as he could. How long had Teynaise been unconscious, for there to be as much damage as there was?

It hurt to think about the pain his beloved friend had endured. It was his job to protect Teynaise. No matter how often it seemed to wind up working the other way around. He'd sworn to protect the young prince no matter what the cost. He wouldn't -couldn't- fail.

Still cradling Teynaise close, Liath ignored the spreading flames and savagely kicked the door open. The ground was swaying unsteadily beneath his feet as he stumbled down the narrow hallway; he crashed into the wall several times, aggravating his injuries in the process, before finally managing to stumble up a flight of stairs and into the sunlight.

Nearly a dozen humans gaped openly at them as Liath stumbled onto the deck of what proved to be a large merchant ship, or perhaps they were staring at the plumes of smoke that were beginning to waft up from belowdecks. Either way, it didn't really matter. He was halfway to the railing with his precious burden before any of them thought to raise a shout, and over it before anyone could even begin to reach them.

The shift was painful, reminding him of each and every one of his injuries. The first downstroke even moreso, bringing tears to his eyes and making his vision swim for a moment as the agony seared through him. It was only the knowledge of the small shape clutched securely in his front claw that kept him from giving in to the urge to black out completely. He had to get away. Had to get Teynaise to safety.

The sea passed by beneath them, glittering brightly in the sunlight, far closer than it should be. But he couldn't quite summon the strength to lift up higher into the sky. Every beat of his wings took everything he had left, just to stay in the air at all. Just a little further. A little bit further.

There. A glimmer of sand, a few scraggly trees - an island. If he could just make it to the island, just that little distance more, he could rest. It seemed so very far away; his wings felt leaden, every muscle in his body screaming in protest. The only part that didn't hurt was his left front claw, but that had long gone numb from the rigid way he'd locked his talons to keep his precious passenger safe.

Not much further now, not much. He could make it. There was the sand, a few large rocks, those sorry-looking trees... and his entire body decided to give up all at once at the sight. It was all Liath could do to curl up around Teynaise's unconscious form, using his own body to shield the young prince from the worst of the fall. He felt the sharp impact as his back met the ground, and then nothing at all.

Teynaise hoped that waking up with a splitting headache wasn't going to become a habit. Of course, the moment he healed that ache a hundred others promptly made themselves known and memory flooded through him. The pirate-kidnapper-man. The ship. Liath!

His eyes snapped open, though he immediately had to shutter them against the bright sun. Turning his face away he managed to crack an eye open again, finding most of his field of vision occupied by varying shades of grey dragon scales. There was only one dragon with multiple shades of scales, and only one dragon that was grey at all.

He was clutched protectively in Liath's claw, which was in turn resting upon the dragon's breast. Liath himself was lying on his back, breathing shallowly. There was blood everywhere and Teynaise almost swore he could feel his friend's pain. Closing his eyes he reached out and placed his hands firmly against the warm scales, summoning up all the energy he had remaining and pouring it through Liath's broken, agonized body. Uncle Aeyn would probably scold him if he knew, but uncle Aeyn wasn't here, and Liath needed him.

And that was all that mattered.

When he woke again it was dark, and there were thousands of stars out overhead. He could hear the faint crackle of a fire and sat up slowly, blinking at the little pile of burning driftwood. His back felt cold, as whatever he'd been laying on was considerably warmer than the night air, but he barely had time to consider that contrast before warm arms were wrapped tight around him, pulling him back against an equally warm chest. Teynaise relaxed, knowing those particular long-nailed hands anywhere.

"Liath."

"Don't you ever, ever do that again, you idiot," Liath muttered, apparently doing his best imitation of an octopus as he clung tight to Teynaise. "They could have killed you, and Aeynanyi warned you about over-exerting your power, and... and..."

Teynaise squirmed around so that he was facing Liath, hands splaying across his friend's bare chest as he carefully checked to make sure all of the dragon's injuries had gotten healed. Liath's hands were running across him oddly, and it wasn't until he decided Liath was completely healed that he realized his friend was doing an injury-check of his own in the only way available to a non-healer.

"What are you..."

"Are you oka..."

The two boys blinked at one another several times, then promptly collapsed into each other's arms, laughing. It was a healing laughter, one that allowed them to shake off some of the terror of what had occurred to them, and they were both breathless and nearly exhausted by the time they both fell silent. Teynaise found himself half sprawled in Liath's lap, the dragon's head resting on his shoulder, and it wasn't nearly as uncomfortable a position as he thought it ought to be.

He stayed silent a moment, feeling the dragon's body heat all around him, smiling at how nice it felt. How nice it would feel if he could stay right here always.

It was Liath who finally broke the quiet, his words only audible because he spoke them right next to Teynaise's ear. "You really scared me, you know."

Teynaise blinked, squirming just a bit so that he could better see his friend's face. "I scared you? I wasn't the one that was bleeding!"

"You were!" Liath protested. "He was kicking you, and there was blood on your face, and..." His expression shifted, becoming oddly defiant. "I set him on fire."

Teynaise arched a brow. "That's rather restrained for you dragons, isn't it?" he teased. "Shouldn't you be like threatening to bite heads off and remove body parts or something?"

Liath bared his teeth. "I was a bit concerned with getting you off of that ship, but I'd be more than happy to go back and eat them all, one piece at a time."

Teynaise considered, nobly resisting the urge to snuggle into Liath's lap. "I dunno... I wouldn't want you getting sick. The one smelled like he hadn't bathed in a year."

Liath's nose wrinkled. "You have a point. And I don't think asking them to wash before I eat them would work."

Teynaise grinned slyly. "Of course, we could always just ask uncle Aeyn to send Deyllgo after them..."

"Now there's a fate worse than death," Liath murmured, the points of his fang-teeth flashing as he matched Teynaise's grin. "That little human of his may have gotten him to calm down enough to the point where he's not automatically killing people who offend him, but I swear he's gotten more... creative... in his punishments."

"Mmm, that would-be rapist last year..." Teynaise agreed, and they both winced, remembering.

The remembering dragged into an awkward silence, one that wasn't improved a bit as Teynaise discovered that he was starting to get a cramp from being in such a bizarre position for so long but if he squirmed he risked Liath letting him go or, worse, reacting. But the longer he lay there in his awkward position the more his back and legs started to hurt and healing them didn't really do much good as it was a continuous problem. So, there was no helping it. He was going to have to wiggle around to find a more comfortable position and pray that Liath didn't notice his-

He blinked. Liath blinked. They blushed almost at the same time, as Teynaise's squirmings had brought him into contact with something unexpected and the moment the surprise ceased overriding everything else he felt his own body immediately reacting in response. They stared at one another, blue-grey eyes to strange, mottled grey, then Teynaise leaned up just as Liath leaned down, their noses bumping awkwardly as they each tried to tilt their heads properly so that their lips could meet and then, oh, then Liath was kissing him, or he was kissing Liath, and it didn't really matter because Liath was warm and delicious and holding him close, or maybe he was holding Liath? They were holding each other, the kiss just as awkward and clumsy as all such first kisses are and yet the need was still there, burning hot and fierce and demanding and Teynaise wasn't really sure when he wound up sprawled out atop the naked dragon but he was quite certain that he really needed to lose a few layers of clothing. Namely, all of them.

He pulled back, intending on doing just that, but Liath's arms caught him and held him in place and he got only the brief glimpse of gleaming grey eyes so full of intense desire before Liath had claimed his mouth once again and all sense of rational thought fled entirely. There was only Liath and Liath's lips and Liath's tongue and, oh, hands sliding down the back of his pants, cupping his butt, making him writhe and - winds! - grind down hard against Liath, drawing a ragged moan from the both of them.

"I think..." Liath swallowed, panting, tongue darting out to briefly lick Teynaise's lips. "I think... we should head back to the castle... Everyone's... most likely panicking over where we are... and... and..." He seemed to be having a terrible time holding onto his train of thought every time his gaze met Teynaise's, and he gave up entirely on remembering what he was trying to say when Teynaise wiggled again.

"Why can't we stay right here?" Teynaise asked, trying not to sulk when Liath grabbed ahold of his shoulders and lifted him up and away from the warm, delicious dragon-body beneath him.

"Because..." Liath had to blink several times before he managed to put his thoughts back in order. "Because the palace has soft beds?" he decided at last, "And the ground is very hard."

That, Teynaise decided, was a good reason. Though he still didn't want to get up. Liath was comfortable to lay on, though he conceded after a moment that it probably wasn't so comfortable for Liath. "Okay, we can go home. But I get one more kiss first." He squirmed backwards off of Liath, helping the dragon to his feet, then yanking him close for a quick, hard, consuming kiss. Liath reciprocated immediately, burying his hands in Teynaise's hair and holding his head close, breaking the kiss only when they were both completely out of breath.

Teynaise stepped a few paces back, running his eyes unashamedly down Liath's nude body, licking his lips at the sight of the effect he'd had upon the dragon. "Oh, the plans I have for that..." he murmured.

Liath flushed and scowled at the same time. "You are so not helping." A moment later a long, sinuous grey dragon was coiled around Teynaise, crouching low so that the young prince could scramble up onto its back. Liath spread his wings wide, gathering the wind magic beneath them and launching them into the air with as much speed as he could gather. The faster they flew, the sooner they'd be home, and then he'd have his beautiful, enchanting prince all to himself.

In retrospect, Teynaise decided that dealing with the would-be kidnappers would have been far more pleasant than the furious reprimand awaiting him when they got back to the palace. Granted, it could have been worse. He only had to deal with uncle Mirofal reaming him. Liath got both uncle Aeynanyi and Deyllgo. Teynaise cringed in sympathy.

"Well?" Mirofal demanded into the lull.

Teynaise scowled at his feet. "Don't we at least get a little credit for rescuing ourselves?" he asked.

The two older dragons exchanged a look, Aeynanyi smiling at him in a manner that was only partially reassuring. "You don't believe that your healing magic gave you an edge to allow you to succeed where others would have failed?" he asked, silvery eyes oddly intent.

Teynaise frowned, looking from one adult to the other, noting that while uncle Mirofal just looked annoyed (and a little relieved) the two dragons wore near-matching expressions that he couldn't quite puzzle out. "You're the one who told me that my magic is just part of who I am. Everyone has their own strengths, something they can use in an emergency. Mine just happens to be magic."

"And Liath?" Aeynanyi pressed. "He seems to be becoming rather reliant upon your magic to patch him up after each successive incident..."

The dragon in question started and made as if to protest, but Teynaise beat him to it. "Liath isn't reliant on anyone!" he exploded. "He was hurt when he got us out of there, and I was unconscious, so I couldn't heal him until after we were away! I just had to keep that idiot occupied long enough for him to wake up!"

He expected his outburst to garner more frowns. Instead, Aeynanyi almost looked... pleased. Uncle Mirofal looked confused, and Deyllgo was practically smirking. Which was rather a terrifying expression, as it usually meant he was about to or had just gone and torn arms off of unsuspecting criminals.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Teynaise asked finally, feeling rather unsettled. He noticed that Liath had managed to scoot closer to him and the edges of their hands were touching. It helped.

Aeynanyi smiled. "Liath is confined to the castle for the next two months as punishment for endangering you-"

"But I asked him to-"

"And he's going to have to learn when to tell you No," Aeynanyi continued without missing a beat. "However, in a week's time we will be having a proper celebration of valor in honor of his success in battle, and you are more than welcome to attend, as we will be commandeering the ballroom for the purpose."

Teynaise blinked. Liath gaped. Deyllgo smirked. Aeynanyi just continued smiling that little half smile of his even as uncle Mirofal jerked and exclaimed, "Aeyn! You're not supposed to be praising them for getting into trouble!"

The look in uncle Aeyn's eyes was one that Teynaise knew well, and he struggled to hide a smile. Uncle Mirofal was doomed.

"It's a dragon thing, Miro. How often you get yourself into danger isn't nearly as important as what you do once you're in it. Getting yourself out of a hazardous situation without needing rescue is one of the cornerstones of a dragon's coming of age." Aeynanyi paused, flashing Liath and Teynaise a brief, smug smile, then he added, "Considering that young Teynaise has been raised by dragons and is likely even more familiar with our customs and... priorities... than you are, I would recommend you arrange something similar in his honor."

Now everyone was gaping at Aeynanyi - excluding Deyllgo, who was still smirking - and Teynaise could feel his jaw dropping. Uncle Mirofal, it seemed, wasn't faring much butter. "But... he... they..."

Aeynanyi smiled gently. "They are growing up," he finished warmly. "Learning that their decisions have consequences, and how to utilize their own strengths and that of their companions to their advantage. Some such lessons can only come of unexpected situations, and in my opinion they handled themselves rather better than expected." He tipped his head thoughtfully, then gestured with one clawed hand. "You do want him ready to assume the throne of Temnia when he comes of age, yes?"

Mirofal blinked. "Yes, of course, but..." He gestured helplessly. "He's not a dragon, Aeyn."

And there was that odd smile again. "Mmm, I think he is, Miro, in everything but blood."

The shock and pleasure that ran through him at Aeyn's words was almost overwhelming. Almost. Because no matter how thrilled he was at the statement, nothing could keep the amusement from bubbling up in him as uncle Mirofal shot his lover a resigned, exasperated look. "I knew I should have insisted on at least one human nursemaid."

"You couldn't find one that would work alongside dragons after what Buidhe did to that one fellow," Aeynanyi pointed out mildly.

"And when you and the dragons go back to the Dragon Isles?" Mirofal asked. "What's he going to do then?"

"Not all the dragons will be going back," Liath's voice announced without the slightest falter. "I'll be staying here. He'll always have me."

Mirofal blinked at him, then looked sharply at Teynaise, then back to Liath again. At his side Aeynanyi started laughing helplessly. "Well, some things run in the family, I see..." he managed to get out between bouts of helpless giggles.

Liath's fingers intertwined with Teynaise's as the dragon regarded Mirofal challengingly. After a moment the Lord Regent sighed and shook his head. "I know when I'm outnumbered."

Teynaise couldn't help it. He started laughing. Liath managed to hold out for a few moments longer before his shoulders began shaking and he hunched forward slightly with the effort of staying silent. That, of course, set Aeyn off again, and it was several minutes before they managed to settle down, Mirofal glaring at them all the entire time.

"Are you done laughing at me?" he asked dryly, then yelping as Aeynanyi's wrapped around him, caressing rather intimately considering the company.

"I'll make it up to you later," Aeynanyi promised softly, and they could all see Mirofal shiver. Teynaise hid another snicker. Uncle Aeyn was way too good at that. Though... He slid his eyes over briefly to Liath, fighting down a blush as he realized Liath was looking at him as well. Apparently they'd both had the same thought.

'Later' Liath mouthed, and Teynaise grinned. Yes, Later. Later he would see if he could reduce Liath to a mindless puddle as easily as uncle Aeyn could Mirofal. Or maybe Liath would be making him insensible. It didn't really matter, as long as they were together.

"Deyllgo," Aeynanyi said calmly, apparently oblivious to what his wandering hands were doing to Mirofal, "Take a few dragons and head north to see if you can find these would-be kidnappers, hmm? Shouldn't be hard to find a ship that smells like smoke."

Deyllgo's return smile was positively terrifying. "Yes, my lord." He turned and stalked out of the room with a look of anticipation that no doubt had everyone he passed scrambling to get out of his way.

Liath chuckled softly, leaning closer to murmur into Teynaise's ear, "Know what the worst part of being confined to the palace is?"

Teynaise blinked and turned to look at him. "What?"

Liath grinned. "Not getting to watch what happens when Deyllgo finds that ship."

Matching his grin, Teynaise used their linked fingers to yank Liath flush against him. "Why don't I give you something even better to watch?" he asked.

Liath's lovely grey eyes sparkled. "Just watch?"

"I hope not," Teynaise retorted.

Their lips met.