Kipfel lurked. It was what he was good at, after all. He hid in the shadows and kept out of sight, lest Annabel do something drastic… Like tell him to get out and start helping build stuff. He snorted. The others could let themselves be common pack mules. He wouldn’t. He stalked slowly around a table, taking in the dimensions of the room. Nothing special, nothing special. The walls were plastered between thick oak bars, and there were steps that lead up to a second floor. He crept up them.

He hated the houses. Each one was the same as the rest. There were too many people and dragons and things around. He wanted to get out of there. He knew the doors were left accessible for the shorter bonded creatures who had grown accustomed to living directly with their bondmates. Silently, he crept downstairs again, pushed the door open with a shoulder, and slinked out.

It was day. He hated the day. He hated a lot of things, but he really hated the day. It was bad for his eyes. He squinted them nearly tight shut and stalked down the street. He knew there were woods somewhere. He would go there. Deal with things. Kill a tree or two. It was how he was feeling. After all, what was a tree or two?

Ira nodded and flicked his tail, neatly slicing a huge sheet of canvas along the lines directed with his back spikes. Tren was teaching Tor how to repair sails, since he had agreed to help out with the docks. Ira’s back spikes helped very much, as they were about the size and consistency of very long knives. And when the sun got too hot, they could go down below and help Ira master his magical object.

Ira genuinely enjoyed the time spent helping out. Sometimes he wasn’t needed, and he would watch the building of the port from crow’s nest of the Majestic. There he could see Delinet, Tren’s Clarus dragon bond, shifted as an elephant and hauling huge loads and wagons back and forth. She seemed okay with it, as any time she needed to, she could shift back and dive into the water so close at hand. He could see his mother, Gunnhild, and her companions lifting huge oak beams and hardening them in a fire farther along the way. Sandrylene and Tristan stood at a make-shift table (that was made of a box on a slight incline) as they argued a little over the blueprints. Aki’s tiny figure worked with Clarinet (and sometimes Delinet, too) to securely plant the poles to support the dock. And Annabel, he noticed more from Tor’s sudden surprise and delight than anything else as she wandered up the gangplank. She served more as a demolition crew with Kipfel than anything else, and when there was nothing to destroy, she cooked.

Ira puzzled a little as he peered down and watched the three interact. Odd how Tor almost seemed reasonable when he spoke to non-dragons. It was okay, though. Ira was used to being ignored. It was better sometimes; he could touch Tor’s mind lightly and activate the link the two had as bondmates. He knew Tor loved him, even if the Seer never said it. Ira had never said it himself, either. Never really saw the need.

“Nabel!” Tren said happily as he looked up from a strand of rope where he was showing Tor different knots. “What brings you here? It’s not time for lunch already, is it?”

Annabel waved, the sun catching the short, tight copper curls that had begun growing on her scalp after she had been found. “Not quite, though it will be by the time I get back to the pavilion. I just stopped by for a spot of a chat before it was ready. You boys haven’t seen Kipfel about have you?”

Her question had been so nonchalant that even Ira seemed puzzled by it. Wasn’t it normal for black dragons to skulk off and avoid people? That was how he understood it, at least. However, he also understood that Kipfel hardly ever left Annabel’s side. Unlike most blacks, he wasn’t territorial about things, but rather, people.

“Umm… no, can’t say we have,” Tren replied carefully, thoughtfully, even.

“He’ll turn up soon enough, Nabel,” Tor added, nodding.

Ira rolled his eyes as his bondmate beamed. Stupid human crushes, he thought bitterly, doing his best to watch the border of the forest as Palvion and Abvindor felled a tree. There were other people, those without bondmates, of course. They were helping, too, but Ira was drawn a bit to the forest. Suddenly, Annabel’s head and bright blue wings interrupted his field of vision and train of thought.

*Um… Hello,* Ira managed.

“Ira, darling, blow that pretty little horn of yours. It’s lunch time!” Annabel said as she leaned on the railing to the crow’s nest and grinned at him, her green eyes becoming slits. Then, just as suddenly, she let her wings cut out and return into her back and fell before her wings blossomed out again and she zoomed, propelling herself more out of will than out of thrust from her energy-based wings, across the bay and towards the pavilion where everyone ate.

Ira shook his head as she departed. *Showoff,* he projected softly to no one before jerking his head so that the Trumpet Piece, which hung around his neck, could come into his mouth. He let out a burst of fanfare at an almost deafening sound. He was getting better. Almost everyone had stopped what they were doing and looked up, which meant that the burst was getting louder. Only Palvion and Abvindor had not stopped, and they were fairly far away; it was understandable.

*I’ll go get Palvion,* Ira called down to Tor and Tren, who were setting aside their rope. *I won’t be long; save me something!*

That said, he let himself fall from his perch on the railing and watched the dock, sand, and town roll away beneath him as he beat his wings.

Ira landed with a flutter, and looked around. *Abvindor!* her called out, feeling the air for the mind-touches of dragons. He only felt one, and he knew it wasn’t Abvindor’s. *Hello?* he called.

There was no reply at all. Deciding he could handle whatever it was out there and thinking maybe he could help if there was trouble, Ira set off into the woods. He saw Palvion’s axe embedded in a stump nearby and Abvindor’s huge tracks leading the way towards the pavilion. He supposed perhaps they had heard the trumpet burst. Still… There was someone out there…

Gathering curiosity rather than courage, Ira beat his wings and glided easily, fluttering every so often to stay aloft. He wove in and out of branches and trunks, looking for whomever it was that was hiding in the forest. *Olly-olly oxen free,* he whispered. The forest was silent. Not even the usually-gregarious birds were twittering away. Ira shuddered and continued flying.

Then, suddenly, he had the feeling that he ought to back up. He let himself be led on instinct and was astonished when a huge tree crashed down right where he had been moments before. He stared at it in awe, noticing the deep scratches on the base of the trunk going up four or so feet. He turned slowly to see where the tree came from, but all that was there was a hole where the roots came from.

Ira began to look away, but something small and hurried caught his eye as it skirted the hole. In a flash, he was swooping after it – small and covered in dark green fur with four legs and a long tail. He’d catch it, whatever it was. His mother was an excellent hunter, after all!

He raced after it, following close behind it. They sped over the ground, the hunter and the quarry. Strange that it didn’t feel any fear at being chased; maybe it hadn’t seen him?

These thoughts were promptly shaken from his mind, however, when something huge leapt up from nowhere and caught him heavily in the chest. He and his assailant went flying backwards, and he winced as the wind was knocked out of him and his long back spines got caught on another felled tree. He opened his eyes to see Kipfel’s scowling face glaring down at him.

*What do you want?* the black demanded of Ira.

*It’s time for lunch,* Ira replied, glaring back. He wasn’t certain why, but he figured animosity was best met with animosity; there was no sense in being civil to an assailant.

*We’ve already eaten. Go away.*

*We?*

*Yes. I’ll thank you if you never get thoughts of eating Löwenherzchen again.*

*Löwe—what?*

In reply, the small green furry thing he had been chasing before pranced happily from behind Kipfel’s body. *Herzchen,* Kipfel repeated. *Löwenherzchen. Think of touching it again, and you’ll get worse than a splitting headache.*

*Right, you mind getting off me?*

Kipfel made no effort to move. Instead, he made certain that he had Ira’s wings pinned firmly to the fallen tree. *I think, rather, that you need to learn something here.*

*Don’t touch the green furry thing. I got it,* Ira parroted in exasperated tones.

*I was thinking more along the lines of … curiosity kills the dragon.*

*Right. And what’s that?*

Kipfel dug his talons into Ira’s wings with very painful results. *We stay here like this, and the more questions you ask, the more it hurts.*

Ira glared up at him sharply. He was grinning back at him. *You’re sick,* he spat.

*What can I say?* Kipfel replied, and Ira whipped his tail up to strike him fiercely on the side of his chest. *What was that for?* he demanded, and Ira lashed his tail against Kipfel’s chest again.

*Well, the way I figure, if I’m being punished for my curiosity and asking of questions, so should you.*

*Fine, then. We’ll stay here until one of us gives up.*

*There’s a time limit?* Ira asked defiantly and Kipfel dug his talons in elsewhere. He winced, but didn’t give the black the satisfaction of hearing him cry out in pain.

*If you put it that way, then no, there isn’t.*

*Fine,* Ira hissed.

*Fine!*

So, the two spent the afternoon posing demanding questions of one another and dealing with the physical abuse offered by each other in retribution. Ira felt bad for stooping to delivering pain to another creature, but he would not allow himself to be the only one suffering injury. Eventually, however, the sun began to set and the moons began to rise.

*Well, Kipfel, it’s been plenty fun, I’m sure, but I think it’s time for us to go home now,* he muttered.

*You’re not going anywhere. No time limits,* Kipfel replied, though it was obvious he was tiring. Ira could tell it was difficult for him to maintain an air of cruelty and viciousness for hours on end.

Ira sighed. *Then you leave me no choice.* He jerked his Trumpet Piece to his lips and began to play, hoping to put Kipfel to sleep. However, Kipfel was quicker on his feet than Ira imagined, and he leapt off Ira and rolled to the side, snatching up a black rock with a purple sheen and growled.

Ira’s concentration left promptly, and he jerked his head this way and that, searching for something, but he wasn’t sure what. He looked frantically every way he could, his eyes losing focus more readily than his mind, which was screaming in frustration that he couldn’t find what he was looking for. With an anguished whistle, he finally gave up, defeated, and all notions of the swirling colors and images that had been before his eyes moments prior were replaced by sweet, serene blackness.

*Will you stop looking at me like that?* Kipfel demanded, glaring at Löwen as he wrenched Ira’s back spines out of the fallen trunk. *I’m not going to hurt him.*

Löwen ducked its head, but it didn’t leave Kipfel’s side. Night was closing in shortly, and there were predators in the night. It wasn’t safe to be alone in the darkness for any amount of time. Kipfel had made sure to instill that feeling in the little Sufan early enough.

*I’m just… taking him out of the tree… so that he umm… doesn’t get eaten, yes.*

Löwen quickly scampered up to perch on top of Kipfel’s head as the black tore at the log with his talons.

*Yes, because we all know dragons are so low on the food chain,* he muttered, pushing Ira’s limp body free and trying not to damage the blue’s wings any more. He felt a twinge or two of regret for having injured Ira, but the pain along his side was enough to make him ignore those feelings easily.

Finally, Kipfel gained some headway and pushed Ira’s body off the tree. The arboreal landed heavily on the ground, and Kipfel looked down at his paws, which were cut from the blue’s knife-like back spines and the harshness of the wood. It was nothing some dirt wouldn’t fix, if he didn’t feel obligated to keep Ira safe during the night.

Carefully moving Ira to sleep more comfortably, Kipfel was certain not to damage Ira any more with his talons. He curled the blue’s body up safely and nodded before letting Löwenherzchen curl up next to the blue for warmth and a place to hide. Kipfel, however, stayed aloof, diligently rubbing his bruises and lacerations with grass and other plants nearby. He kept his eyes on Ira and his ears on the forest the entire time. Nothing would touch his quarry, and if something thought it could, then he would show it otherwise.

Eventually, the moon rose and the pain subsided. Quietly, Kipfel crossed the area to where the two sleeping forms were bathed in moonlight. Silently, patiently, he studied them, memorizing their forms. Löwen was nothing too special; the dark green Sufan curled up between his paws more often than people thought. He smiled. Löwenherzchen was one of the few creatures who loved him for who he was.

Then, his gaze fell on Ira. His smile faded away and he fought back a growl. Ira would never trust him, especially not after today. Kipfel silently padded towards the sleeping arboreal. He never once tore his gaze from the blue’s soft, gentle face. Ira was a dragon accustomed to laughter and life, but he still had this understanding of Kipfel’s tendencies. It was a very intimate feeling, knowing that he could be understood. Kipfel felt his heart thundering in his chest more heavily than any time since he killed Carmelotto and stood with Annabel against her father.

*This is only the passion of the hunt,* he told himself. *It is right for the victor to feel excitement and satisfaction when viewing his quarry.* But his eyes would not move from Ira’s face. He sat down close beside the other dragon, careful to give Löwen room. He watched Ira’s sleeping form harder, as if expecting it to move away in protest.

It didn’t, and Kipfel gently touched his snout to Ira’s jaw. His heart seemed to be leaping into his throat. He nuzzled Ira’s neck before fighting back tears. *Why?* he whispered. *Why can’t I be happy? You’re happy. Why aren’t I?* He leaned over Ira’s neck, gently pinning him down lest the blue wake up before he did. *Someday,* he mused quietly, *I will be happy, too.* He closed his eyes and let the whispers of the night wash over him.

Morning broke, and Ira was still not awake. Neither was Kipfel. Löwen was, though, and it skittered out from between the two dragons. Kipfel, it knew, was a very silly dragon. He took too much thought in how people felt about him. Happily, Löwen began to nibble on some ripe grains of grass seed. Its devious little mind began thinking what it could get Kipfel to do for it today. Mmm… the scheming it did! And though occasionally it was a disappointment that Kipfel hardly realized the compulsions as directives from Löwen, most of the time, the little Sufan enjoyed them.

It turned and glanced at the two sleeping males. They were both silly dragons. They both wanted to be in charge. The silly things did not realize who the true boss was of this outfit. Löwen smirked. Perhaps it would make them want to get him pretty flowers today? No. It could do more devious than flowers.

It glanced up at them again. Judging by their reactions yesterday, they would need something more devious. And then, then, oh glorious then! Then Löwen would have two dragons to pamper it.

Löwen smiled and romped in a circle. It was going to be such a wonderful day!

Ira had been awake for some time before he had enough of being pinned to the ground by a big black dragon. For at least an hour he had watched Löwen scamper about the area in a state of excruciatingly cheerful. He was annoyed, and he was needed back at the docks.

*All right, Kipfel. I really need to get back now,* Ira growled, poking at the dragon draped oh-so-casually across him. Kipfel made no effort to move. *Don’t tell me he’s a heavy sleeper!* Ira groaned.

He sighed and watched Löwen prance through the grass, almost fully camouflaged in the shadows. He strained his neck to look behind him and over to the one side. There was nothing. The birds were silent and nothing moved except Löwen.

There is only so long that small green furry things can hold Ira’s attention, however, and he soon returned his attentions to rising Kipfel. He shifted his weight beneath the sleeping dragon and sighed. This was going to be difficult. *Come on, Kipfel! Wake up! I have to go! Screw your time limits!*

Nothing could move him, it seemed, and Ira entertained the thought of using his back spines to wake up the terran, but the thought was always promptly suppressed, and often for very few reasons. Ira glared forcibly at Kipfel’s head. *This is all your fault,* he growled. *You and your twisted games and lessons.*

Ira’s anger was dampened, however, by the expression on Kipfel’s sleeping face. It was so sad, he realized in alarm. Why, though? Kipfel never seemed to want anything more than to be left alone, and when he got that, he was still sad? What could do that to a dragon?

He entertained the thought for a few moments before his attention snapped quickly to a spot slightly in front of him that was blocked entirely by Kipfel’s form. His first thought was ‘Löwen!’ and his second was ‘fox!’ He panicked and struggled to move to help the Sufan, but Kipfel was … no longer on top of him. Ira sprang airborne as Kipfel landed hard on the fox and watched in vague horror as the terran mauled the creature, tearing its white breast to ribbons with his talons, snapping its neck with his jaws, and letting the blood of the dead fox spill into the area.

Ira watched silently as Kipfel crossed to Löwen, who was crouched low in a tuft of violets. The black nuzzled the Sufan with amazing care, and in return, the Sufan swiftly scampered onto Kipfel’s head. Ira glanced at the dead fox, lying there, ignored. He felt a little faint and swallowed hard. He could have met a worse fate, he realized.

*Um… Kipfel?* Ira ventured.

*What do you want, Flyboy?* Kipfel demanded, busying himself with licking the blood from his talons.

*Is Löwen okay?*

Kipfel looked up sharply at Ira. *Of course he is,* was the cold reply.

*Oh. Well, then, are you okay?*

Kipfel narrowed his eyes to slits. *Go away, Flyboy. Go back to your town. You’re right. They probably are missing you.*

Ira blinked as Kipfel and Löwen wandered farther into the forest. *What? Hey! Kip!* Kipfel stopped, and Ira said the first thing he could think of. *They’re missing you, too, you know!*

*Who is?*

*Annabel, mostly.*

*Heh. Figures. Go back to town, Flyboy. It’ll do your heart some good.*

And he walked off into the darkness of the shadows, leaving Ira staring heavily after him. What was wrong with that dragon?

“At least we know he’s okay, Nabel,” Tor pressed as Annabel pulled on heavy black boots.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that Kipfel and ‘okay’ are not ideas that coexist harmoniously,” Annabel snapped, glaring at Tor. “And he hurt your dragon. You should at least feel a bit angry.” She glared at him condescendingly.

*Look, I’m fine already! Tren fixed me up right good, okay?* Ira protested from where he was perching atop a bookshelf.

“I will not let my dragon hurt your wings and get away Scott-free for it.”

*He didn’t get away ‘Scott-free’ per se.*

“Well I also won’t let my dragon wander the woods while being bloody injured!”

Ira sighed and rolled his eyes. Women! he thought in dismay. Never happy, always needing to cause trouble. I’d thank someone that Tor’s a man, but… he can be just like them some days.

“Well I won’t let you go alone!” Tor finally decided. “You might need help!”

“That’s very kind of you, but –“

*But I’m going with her,* Ira interjected.

Annabel smiled at him sweetly. “Ira, I really think this is something I ought to do alone.”

*So do I, so maybe you should stay here, and I’ll get it done alone?*

Annabel gazed levelly at him. “My dragon, my problem. I’m coming.”

*Right then. Tor, mind the kitchens, eh?*

Tor hurried after them as Ira flew swiftly after Annabel, but they closed the door in his face and hurried towards the woods. Ira could feel Tor’s aggravation, but that wasn’t important right now.

“Why did you want to come along, Ira?” Annabel asked, running to keep pace with the swift blue.

Ira did not answer right away. Annabel looked at him as if he was blatantly ignoring her question, and he was. He didn’t want to admit to anyone, least of all Kipfel’s bondmate, what was on his mind. It had only been two days since Kipfel had told him to go back, and every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was Kipfel’s leering glare.

“Ira!” Annabel’s scolding and slightly panicked tone jerked him back to reality.

*What? Oh. Because I worry about him, of course,* was Ira’s calm reply. Lies, lies, lies, Ira mused inwardly. I don’t feel anything at all for that irritating excuse for a dragon.

He glanced over at Annabel, who looked pleased with his reply. Without notice, he continued at a faster pace. Where was he? Why couldn’t he feel the whispers of Kipfel and Löwenherzchen? Were they okay? They weren’t hurt, were they?

“Ira! Wait up!” Annabel was full-out running by now.

*They’re right ahead, I think!*

“I feel him, too, but he’ll hear us if we keep up at this rate.”

*He’ll hear us either way. We may as well be able to catch him before he bolts!*

There! Amidst the thick floral undergrowth, Kipfel and Löwen were playing. Annabel stopped, stunned at the eerie sight of her black dragon, the one who had killed in both hot and cold blood, romping and playing in the flowers with a small furry green creature. Ira willed her not to say anything. The sight was too perfect in such a twisted sense to ruin.

Unfortunately, Annabel found it otherwise. “Kipfel?”* she asked, her face screwed up in confusion. “Was machst du?”* Ira could tell by her tone she wasn’t happy.

Kipfel stopped dead and turned slowly to face Annabel. He had the decency to look ashamed, and Löwen bounded onto his head in confusion as to what would interrupt their game. *Hallo, Nabel,* he projected, for the first time Ira ever knew, meekly.

“Sagst zu mir dass du nichts für vier Tagen in dem Wand warst!”

Kipfel nodded a little.

“Und hattest du alle Tagen in die Blumen gespielt?”

Kipfel looked away in a haughty manor.

“Sagst zu mir!” Annabel demanded.

*Nein, Nabel. Ich spielte für vier Tagen in die Blumen nichts. Nur heute. Okay?*

“Es ist nicht ,okay’, Kipfel!”

*Und warum?* His reply was so fierce that Ira blocked some of his receptors to the projection. There was tension between the two, Ira realized, and he was surprised it took him so long to realize. They both loved each other, but more in a mother-son fashion than Clarinet would ever be able to master with Kipfel.

“Ich habe Angst für dich!”

*Hast Angst für ein Anderes!*

“Kipfel, ich—“

*Sprechen Sie zu mir nichts! Ich hatte für Sie wegegangen! Ich werde selbständig sein! Sie können Angst für mich nicht haben!*

Ira blinked. Even if he could not understand the words as the two bantered in Annabel’s native tongue, he could understand the feelings. Annabel was truly concerned, and Kipfel, as usual, was totally unreadable. Ira envied him for that. He had tried, since he had first met Kazimir, to hide his emotions. He wasn’t very good about it with Tor, and surprisingly not too good at it with Dmitrii, either, but with many other humans, he was pretty good at showing them only what he wanted, which was surprisingly little.

The two continued to banter. “Für mich?”

*Ja. Für Sie. Ich bin nicht Ihnen Männchen, Nabel! Ich kann Ihnen Männchen nichts sein! Ich liebe Sie, aber Sie brauchen ein menschlich Männchen. Wir wissen dass Sie werden ein Brut für Ihnen Selber! Gehen Sie weg! Sie werden ihnen mehr lieben! Gehen Sie weg!*

“Ki—“

*Gehen Sie!* Kipfel roared before finally noticing Ira hovering nearby. *What is he doing here?* Kipfel demanded coldly, suddenly having his fire replaced by ice.

“He led me to you,” Annabel replied with equal calm.

*So that’s how it is, eh, Flyboy? I let you go and you lead her back here?* Kip demanded, glaring at Ira. Who knew flowers could look so menacing?

Ira stalled for a moment, flinching under the black’s heavy and hating gaze. *Yes, Kip, that’s how it is,* he finally replied with reluctance. His private mind, however, was screaming No! I didn’t want her to come, you idiot! Can’t you see that! I wanted it to be just us!

*Fine then. Both of you go back. Quit bothering me.*

“But—“

*I said go away!* Kipfel roared, his fire back again as he reared up on his hind legs, crushing delicate lavender blossoms with his heavy forepaws as he did so. The petals drifted serenely back to the ground in the golden afternoon sun, and Annabel, Ira noticed, was trembling.

“Fine, Kipfel,” she whispered, turning her face from him. “You can come home whenever you miss us. I hope it’s soon.” She turned quickly and Ira could tell she was trying to hide that she was crying from both of them as she hurried back the way they had came.

Kipfel waited in anger for a few minutes as he watched Annabel’s form disappear into the forest. *You, too, Flyboy,* he muttered, nuzzling Löwen reassuringly. *You can go, too.*

Ira stood his ground, so to speak. *You shouldn’t adopt that tone when talking to your bondmate, you know,* he said quietly, defiantly.

*Yes, well. What do you care? Just go away.* Kipfel sounded resigned, tired, suddenly. He looked as if he was going to walk away, but instead he flopped over in the flowers and the sunbeam, letting his black scales absorb the warm and golden light. His animosity was not totally gone, though, Ira realized, and they watched each other silently.

*Well, I…* Ira began, before realizing that his normal means of dealing with controversy – e.g. hiding what he was thinking – would achieve nothing here. *I didn’t stay just to tell you to be nicer to Nabel,* he managed.

*Well then what did you come here to tell me?*

*Umm…* Ira wanted to tell him everything. Be open, honest, don’t hold back. Tell him everything. Tell him what you’re feeling, let him cut you down. Once you’ve been cut down, the feeling will die. But his thoughts froze. He couldn’t find the words or emotions to express how he felt, because he wasn’t sure at all how he felt. He looked desperately at Kipfel, hoping vainly for some reassuring glance. Kipfel merely glared.

*Look, Flyboy, I don’t have all day,* he snarled.

The words came in a flurry, and Ira had no idea how or why they kept coming. *It’s just not right! I mean, she raised you from a wyrm, and you should at least respect her for that! She’s not asking you to come back and work, just to come back because she misses you! There is absolutely no excuse for your tone, and--*

*I thought you didn’t come here to patronize me,* Kipfel snarled. *You’re all the same. You all think you’re so much better than me, just because you get along with people in your happy little dream world. You never seem to realize that maybe I want to fit in, but can’t, do you? No… Let’s just blame his color. He hatched a bad seed, he’ll be one until his dying day, let’s just give up on him, shall we?*

*Gods! Listen to you! Stop playing the victim, Kip! Poor you! Poor you! You want pity, you get it and a plea to come back and you turn it down! You know what your problem is? It’s not that everyone thinks you’re a bad guy; it’s that you don’t know where your interest lies. So snap out of your sulking, and get over it!*

Kipfel was on his feet in a flash. *You don’t know what you’re talking about!*

*Oh don’t I?*

*No, you don’t! You have no idea what it feels like to love someone and have no way of ever having them!* He bared his teeth and growled, bracing himself to start another fight.

*Will you give up on your sick infatuation with Nabel, already?*

*This isn’t about Nabel!*

*She’s a human, and you’re a dragon! Get with it!*

*Don’t you listen!?*

*I mean, I understand that you must feel something, but --*

*Ira!* Kipfel trilled sharply, his muscles rippling in aggravation at forcing himself not to pounce. *I’m talking about you.*

Ira blinked, stunned. Did he just say what he thought he just said? He blinked, and his heart was rushing with joy, but he stayed silent, unreadable.

Kip, too, seemed to just realize what he had said and all the implications of his words. Quietly he rose to his feet and turned his back on Ira, his head hung. His entire posture screamed of defeat, and he began to walk away, deeper into the forest.

*Wait! What?* Ira finally managed.

*I already told you. I’m not going to say it again,* was the somber reply.

*You say you have feelings for me?*

*You listen so well.*

*Why me?*

Kipfel’s back arched as his neck bent in a growl. *I don’t know!* he snapped. *Look, sorry to offend, Flyboy, so I’ll be going now.* He stalked off into the shadows, and his heavy padding told Ira he was running.

Whatever happened to letting him shatter my confidence? Ira asked himself as he started and began to fly after him. *Kip! Wait!* he called, and Kipfel’s heavy footsteps became more rapid.

Ira, however, was colored for speed, and he zoomed between the trees, trying to catch up. There they were: Kipfel running full-speed, and Löwen pattering quickly along behind him. He got ahead of them and hovered in their running path, but both dragon and Sufan were of similar minds, and Kipfel cut left, followed shortly by Löwen. Ira followed quickly after, and soon caught up with them again. He veered his body sharply towards Kipfel, matching his speed, concentrating on gently pushing him to the ground.

Moments later, Ira’s wings were smothering Kipfel’s body. He leaned heavily on him to stop him from kicking or scratching, and he delighted in the heavy rising and falling of the black’s chest. *Tell me what you’re on about,* Ira ordered quietly.

Kipfel clenched his eyes shut stubbornly; refusing to show Ira the hurt and fear that they both knew was there. *Go away. Please,* he begged. *I don’t want you to be so close to me…*

*Why not?*

*Because…*

Time seemed to slow for Ira. He felt every lobe of his brain screaming, Say it, say it, say it! He did his best to suppress that feeling, though, lest he project it. Instead, he watched Kipfel’s eyes as they finally opened and turned on him.

*… I know you’ll leave me eventually, too.* It was so quiet, barely perceptible, as if he didn't want to admit it to himself.

*What?* Ira demanded, incredulous. *Where do you get that idea?*

Kipfel turned away in anger or shame, Ira couldn’t be certain which. Instead, he felt the growing tension in Kip’s muscles, and he held him down tighter. Ira glared fiercely at him. *Kipfel!* he begged. *Tell me!*

The closeness of their bodies had Ira feeling the growl before he could hear it. *Why?* Kipfel demanded angrily. *So I can stroke your ego again, or so you have something to hurt me with?*

Ira stared, aghast. *No!* he said firmly. *No, no, no!* He nuzzled Kipfel’s neck affectionately, his tone still pleading. *It’s because I think I feel something for you, too, okay?*

Kipfel seemed to consider this for a moment. *Don’t lie to me,* he said coldly.

*I’m not-*

*Now let me go, or I’ll rip your pretty little wings to shreds.* He struggled to move under Ira’s weight and strong wings, but the blue pressed harder.

*You want to destroy my wings? Fine. So be it. But you are not leaving until you believe me.* He gently nuzzled Kip’s neck again. *Please. I won’t hurt you.*

They were silent for a while, and Ira wasn’t sure if Kip was biding his time or if he was seriously considering Ira’s words. *Ira,* he said sternly, but not unkindly, *get off of me.*

*I told you I --*

*I want to talk to you, and it’s bloody hard to do so like this.*

Ira smiled and nodded, pushing off to hover a little before floating down to the ground again. He folded his wings as Kipfel staggered to his feet, stretching out his muscles. Ira watched in fascination as Kip turned to face him.

*Did you mean it?* the black asked.

*Of course I did! Every word of it.*

Kipfel smiled. Not out of hatred or cruel irony, but because he was happy, Kip smiled. He crossed the distance between them and gently touched his snout to Ira’s. He nuzzled the blue, and his heart rejoiced for the first time in ages. *Thank you,* he whispered, and finally, he felt complete.

And Löwenherzchen, fortitude Sufan, happily watched from atop a pine cone. It was satisfied, as it watched. And since fear of telling the truth was no longer an issue for either, it busied itself with playing with a pine cone. After all, there was only so much time one could employ with work.

*Really? That’s absolutely wonderful, Kipfel!* Clarinet, the moonstone marine female remarked. *I’m glad you’ve found yourself a mate at last. When do I get to meet her?*

Kipfel laughed nervously. *Well, Mom, you see…*

*Oh-ho-ho! Silly me! She probably lives so far away that you hardly get to see her at all, right?*

*Well… Not exactly…*

Clarinet cocked her head to the side, her large, intelligent eyes pondering this and studying her son. *Well then, who is it?* She paused. *It’s that lovely white, Sofi, isn’t it? She was quite a girl at your shantel.*

*No, Mom, it’s not Sofi. She’s too quiet for me, anyway.*

*My son, oh Prince of Brooding, thinks someone is too quiet for him! Hah!* The area was filled with Clarinet’s chirping laughter.

*Mom… Will you listen to me? I want to tell you who he is!*

Clarinet nodded and forced herself to stop laughing. *Yes, yes! Tell me who!*

*Well, Mom, you know Ira…*

*It’s his sister, isn’t it? That lovely divine, Eliya! She’s the one, is she?*

*Umm… No, Mom. It’s Ira.*

*The… blue?*

*Yes, Mom, the blue.*

Clarinet paused and puzzled over this. *The trumpeter?*

Kip rolled his eyes in exasperation. *Yes, Mom. And yes, he’s the Seer’s bond.*

Clarinet paused again. She slithered over to her son’s side and wrapped her tail around his shoulders. Her tone was delicate and diplomatic. *Now, Kipfel, I must say I’m very pleased that you’ve found someone at last, but couldn’t your someone have been a female?*

Kipfel turned, blinked at her, and asked in all innocence, *Why?*

Clarinet fidgeted a little, and Kipfel was a little concerned; she hardly ever fidgeted. *Well, you see, if you mate with a male, you can never sire a clutch… And…*

*And your precious little mutant genes get lost forever?* Kipfel asked, following Clarinet’s natural train of thought.

*Not mine! Yours! You could sire a good many strong blacks!*

*Mom, think what you’re saying! Who would want a whole mass of blacks running around? Other than you, of course,* he added hastily, figuring what she was going to say next.

*Well, I wouldn’t mind seeing them, and I doubt very much a few other people wouldn’t mind, either.*

*I would mind! Think if there was a lot of me!*

*Oh, you’re not that bad, Kip,* Clarinet said, patting him gently with her tail.

Kipfel sighed and shook his head. *We’re going to be mated, and that’s that,* he said sternly, pulling himself out of Clarinet’s grip. *I just wanted to tell you so you’d get all your lecturing out of the way first. You can’t sway me.*

Clarinet nodded in an understanding manner. *I didn’t think you’d expect me to try to, Kip,* she said kindly. *I really am glad you’ve found someone… I just wish he were a female.* She smiled sweetly and Kipfel grinned.

Kip couldn't help but smile a little and shake his head in exasperation. *Thanks, Mom.*

*NO! I absolutely forbid it!* Gunnhild reeled on Ira, who was busying himself with fading into the background. *I will not have my sons mate male dragons!*

Ira sighed. He knew he shouldn’t have just come out and said that he had fallen for Kipfel. Especially since their mothers did not get along too well.

*Especially one of her sons!*

There it is, Ira thought smugly to himself. Always got to bring it back to the parents, don’t you, Mom? Never can judge a dragon by himself, can you?

Gunnhild was in a right temper, flitting angrily about the area, causing enough of a ruckus that their hunting had become moot. She reeled on him again. *Why!?* she demanded, obviously very distraught over the entire circumstance.

*Because I love him, that’s why!* was Ira’s exasperated answer.

*Hah! Love!* Gunnhild barked coldly. *You don’t know love! You have no idea what love is!*

Ira looked away. He had gotten enough grief from his mother when she found out he was in no ways as blessed as his siblings, though she kept that between the two of them. It was her own secret shame that she had mothered two mundane dragons, even if they both inherited her back spines with other minor mutations. No, nothing could ever be as wonderful as her perfect little feathered children.

*I’ll find you a nice girl. No blacks for you, Ira. And you’ll have the most charming children!*

*No, Mom,* Ira finally said.

*And why not!?*

*I don’t want some nice girl. I want Kipfel!*

*The black?*

*The black.*

*The male?*

*The male.*

Gunnhild narrowed her eyes at her son’s impossible patience. *Her son?*

Ira glared back. *He’s his own dragon, Mom. As much as I respect you for being my mother and all, there is a certain something about you trying to run my life for me I don’t respect. I ask that you stop. Now.*

Gunnhild looked stunned, and Ira knew why. The times he would talk back to his mother were few and far-between, though he had never actually gone so far as to tell her that there was something wrong with how she mothered him. She turned to glare at him with her one good eye, but by that time, it was too late. He was already flying away.

“Kip, sagst zu mir du summst,”* Annabel laughed as she continued to skin some of the hares Sendarriel and Ingegerd had delivered to her that morning.

*Mm… Vielleicht,* Kip replied coyly, lounging in a sunbeam and watching her work on gutting another rabbit.

“Wirklich? Was macht dich so froh?”

*Ich habe ein Geheimnis.*

“Oh?”

*Ja.*

“Und was ist das, denn?”

*Ich habe ein Männchen gefundt.*

Annabel almost dropped her knife in surprise, more at Kip’s announcement than his word choice. “Wirklich?” she asked, excited and turning. “Dann machst du ein Brut für Selber?”

*Vielleicht,* Kip replied, looking smug. *Aber, wahrscheinlich nichts.*

Annabel seemed a bit disheartened at that statement. “Warum nichts?”

*Wir können --* He was cut off as Tor burst in the room cheerfully.

“Hello, Nabel,” he said casually.

“Hallo, Tor,” she replied, easily going back to cleaning the rabbits. “What can I do for you?” Kip could tell by her expression that she didn’t want to talk to him at the moment.

“Well, I was wondering, you see, if you’d like to come with me to the South Beach tonight.”

Annabel sighed. Both she and Kip could see right through the Seer’s request. *You know he likes you,* Kip whispered only to her.

Please, don’t remind me, she thought back to him. “Tor, you are too sweet, but you know, why don’t you just give me up all ready?”

“What? Give up a pretty girl like you? I’d have to be madder than I am to do such a stupid thing.”

Annabel glanced at Kipfel, and Tor followed her gaze. “You see that dragon there?” she asked.

“Yes?” Tor said, slightly uncertain where she was going with this.

“He doesn’t like it when I’m upset.”

“Yes?”

“Do you know what he does when I’m upset?”

“No?”

“You see those pretty little claws of his? You know what he does with them to people who bother me?”

“No?”

Annabel leaned in close to Tor’s face and whispered, “You’re a smart boy. I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually.” She then lightly kissed his cheek and lightly tapped his cheek with a bloody hand before resuming cleaning the rabbits and leaving Tor to find his own way out.

When he left, Kipfel pulled a liver off the counter and wolfed it down before Annabel could laughingly knee him away. *Du bist sehr böse, Nabel!* he chided, laughing; still imagining Tor’s stunned and slightly bloody expression. *Warum sagst du nichts über Tren?*

“Was? Und ich ermutige Tor?” She laughed. “Nein, Kipfel. Folter macht Frei.”

*Tja,* Kipfel replied, a tone of playful banter in his voice. *Und Arbeit, auch.**

Gunnhild swooped in after twilight had set in and Clarinet looked as if she was about to retire to her nest. She landed in the moonstone’s path and glared challengingly at her. *Clarinet,* she said sternly, knowing she was better than the marine in so many ways. *We need to talk.*

*Oh do we?* Clarinet asked, playing dumb. *And why’s that again?*

*Your son has corrupted mine. I demand you put a stop to it.*

Clarinet laughed pretentiously. *You think I can control that son of mine? I would think it easier for you to quiet your own young, Gunnhild.*

Gunnhild sneered back. *Don’t you think I’ve tried? Your black has planted ideas in his head, he has.*

*Oh really? Well I’m glad one from your flighty family has finally learned some good common sense.*

Gunnhild’s back spines flicked in annoyance. *It’s more than I can say about your pig-headed line, too stubborn to know when to drop a past transgression.*

*Hah! I will not forgive an open assault on my mate or my young, you can mark my words on that.*

*And you think I will?*

*You ought to, with your inferior line.*

*Inferior!? Why you pompous little marine!* Gunnhild’s back spines flared again. *I’ll give you ‘inferior’!*

*Hah! Like anything you have to throw at me would be worth being afraid of.*

*That sounds like a challenge!*

*It may well be, Gunnhild.*

*Fine then! Whoever wins is the one whose son is allowed to love whom he so desires!*

*Fine!*

Ira fluttered down onto the large rock on the beach next to Kipfel. The two nuzzled affectionately and watched the moons rise in silence over the blue-black sea. They stayed there in silence for a while as the constellations slowly faded into view, simply enjoying one another’s company. Neither wanted to be the first to speak, but both had things they wanted to say.

As it happened, Ira finally spoke up. *I’m really glad our mothers have stopped bickering and let us do as we pleased,* he said quietly, trying to watch both Kipfel and the sky at once.

*Mmm…* Kip agreed, nervously looking down at his paws, where he was hiding a package quietly. Ira was silent again for a little, and Kipfel decided it was time to speak his piece. *Umm, Ira?* he asked, nervously, looking up shyly at his mate.

*Always listening, Kip,* the blue replied calmly, a smile touched on his snout.

*Umm… Mom told me about how the dragons of our clan go about with mating, and I know it’s silly because we already agreed to be a pair, but … well, tradition is tradition, and I want to uphold it as much as possible. So, umm… I thought you might like this, actually.* He gently picked up a small box and turned a key before flipping open the lid, whereupon the key began to spin the opposite way and the box began to play the melody of “Für Elise.” There was a small mirror embedded in the lid of the box, and a glass covering over the small device that played the music.

Ira stared in delight at both the thought and the music. *Where did you…?*

*Löwen showed me an old shipwreck and the few pieces not destroyed with time and weather. I umm… Thought you’d like it.*

*I do!* Ira exclaimed. He watched the key spin a little longer before whispering, *Thank you,* and touching his snout to Kipfel’s.

Kip looked down with more his mother’s grace than anything most had ever seen in him. He inspected his paws heavily before Ira tapped him on the shoulder with his tail. He turned, and there, glittering in the moonlight, were three of the most beautiful, perfect rings: one gold, one silver, and one copper.

*I umm… talked to my mom about the same thing, actually, and she told me the Lore that blacks like to keep a collection of pretty things. I wanted to let you know that even though I can’t always be part of your collection for whatever reason, I’d like to be. I also want to see you start a proper hoard.*

*They’re lovely!* he declared, gently slipping them off Ira’s tail. *But…A proper hoard?* Kipfel repeated, easily slipping the three rings over three of his taloned toes. *You’re not good enough?*

Ira beamed. *No, silly! Because I think you might enjoy hoarding shiny things more than people. You’re less likely to get hurt that way.*

*Aw, I’!* Kip whispered, touched, before nuzzling his mate contently. *You’re too good to me…* The two nuzzled for a few moments more before watching the sky again. A slight breeze began to pick up, and Kipfel turned to Ira. *Do you want to go back inside?* he asked, knowing most dragons didn’t like the crispness of the sea breeze as much as he did.

Ira shook his head gently. *No,* he affirmed. *I want to stay here. With you. Forever.*