Private Tales Of Sand & Dragonfire

[Seteta]

"I burned the marriage robes myself," Seteta said gleefully, though she sighed as Hassani mentioned the politics of the place, and again when he explained about the dahns. It had been a weak hope, but she'd still had to be sure.

As Hassani spoke of his life, though, she resisted the urge to reach up and rub her forehead. Of course Persian had gilded the cage. And Seteta knew she would not be able to change his mind, but she would like to get Hassani to think for himself. Or at least to make him start thinking about thinking for himself.

"Even if you are not scrabbling for water or resources yourself," Seteta spoke gently, "someone is on your behalf. This is the desert. Everyone fights for the resources here. Even Persian.'

She nearly snorted at the hypocrisy as Hassani said that hunting us is illegal. "What about when your calling no longer has use to Persian?" she challenged. "You may not be hunted, but you won't be set free either."

Her brows nearly leapt from her forehead, though, when Hassani declared that the captured Inizae of Pedeo would be the triumphant survivors in the end. Persian had clearly fed them just enough of their heritage to feed their egos, and made them reliant on him for everything else.

"You are a haven?" she repeated after him. "How? You just told me you do not even know Abtat. How are you a haven for the Inizae when you do not even know the language of your kin, let alone our customs? Persian is no savior of the Inizae. Our only savior, despite the wars and the harshness of the desert, has always been Abtatu."

She stood then, and plucked the opal from Chaceledon's hand. "I am ready to go now, sehejib," she said when she had his attention. "We still have at least one more errand."

As she waited for Chaceledon to rise, she turned back to Hassani, bowing her head. "Go in peace," she offered a traditional Abtati farewell. "I hope you find a thoughtful owner at auction."

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

“I suppose I should be grateful then that Persian takes such good care of us.” Hassani chuckled. “I know what you were expecting to find. Me, mourning my freedom and railing away as though being locked in this tin can is the worst thing in Arethil. Begging you to take me away. If Abtatu protected you that well…the Inizae wouldn’t be hiding from Pedeo.”

Hassani gave her a sad smile. “Did you ever stop to think that maybe I was happy here? That maybe growing up as I did wasn’t horrible? That maybe we’re content not scrabbling for water and paying for ours in labor? There’s a price to pay, and you’re right. I could be killed in the next few days. But from everything I’ve heard, a kind knife is better than dying young because your body just can’t take the desert any longer.”

He settled back. “When you think about it…maybe I would have had the same amount of time. If Abtatu dislikes that, perhaps he should care for his own better first.” Hassani nodded to her. “Farewell.”

Chaceledon jerked as though she’d slapped him when she pulled the opal from his hand. He’d been deep in the crystal, swimming through the opal and rooting the sweet tones of magic in the very rock. Being pulled out of it was akin to someone punching him awake. He blinked, and looked between Seteta and Hassani. “Nice chat?” he said helplessly, clearing his throat and standing.

“Some philosophical differences. Farewell.” Hassani returned to his music, and Chaceledon had to walk away to prevent it luring him in again.

“Mind if I ask what that was about?” he asked gently. “Would you want to get something to eat on the way back to the Inner Wheel? They have some decent food carts here.”

Seteta

 

[Seteta]

"Just because you are content to be abused in exchange for luxuries does not make it right," Seteta said when Hassani continued. It felt a little like he was baiting her, so she made an effort not to argue further. "Nor does it change the fact that your ancestors were brought here against their will."

Seteta met Hassani's gaze without hesitation then. "You're wrong about one thing, though," she stated. "I never expected you to mourn a freedom you've never known. All I wanted was to talk with you. To be honest, I didn't even know that Persian had built this city out of the sands using Inizae blood and magic until a fortnight ago. I wanted more than just my people's side of the story.

"All you've done is confirm it."

The opal hummed in her hand, comforting and serene, as she followed Chaceledon out of the gem market, a stark contrast to the sudden turmoil within her.

“Mind if I ask what that was about?” he asked gently. “Would you want to get something to eat on the way back to the Inner Wheel? They have some decent food carts here.”

"Food would be good," she murmured, realizing that she was hungry. It had been many hours since breakfast now, and if Chaceledon was the one to mention food, she wasn't about to dissuade him.

"I don't know what I was expecting," she said quietly after a moment. "I knew that most, if not all, of the Inizae would be... somewhat content here. It's all they've ever known, by now. But Persian has fashioned himself into the savior of the Inizae. Convinced the ones here that after the desert destroys us, they will be the ones left. The survivors."

She wanted to shout and rage through the streets, but she kept her voice low and even, though her footsteps were fierce and forceful.

"He has fed them just enough of their true identity to give them a sense of pride," she hissed, "but other than our magic, they have no idea of what makes an Inizae an Inizae. They do not even know Abtat."

Her footsteps slowed, and she clutched the opal a little tighter.

"They are calves fattened for slaughter," she whispered, her voice filled with grief. "The gates could be wide open and they still would not leave because out there it is dangerous and unknown, and even if I taught them how to take care of themselves they have no desire to do so."

Her steps halted completely then, and a broken laugh escaped her as a memory came to mind all of a sudden.

"Just before I met you," she said, looking up at Chaceledon fondly, "I met someone who had a very strong hatred for slavery, and a desire to make sure all could live free. I warned him against it, cautioned him to not be hasty about which masters he went after, because he would never convince those who had only ever known slavery that they need to be free."

Her face scrunched and she sighed, looking down as she kicked at the ground with her toes. "I should take my own advice."

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

Chaceledon quietly steered her through the market, concern on his face as she talked. Persian a savior? It was a bit of a stretch. He’d always known the man to have a very practical streak, and wasn’t given to messianic ideals. Perhaps the Inizae born here had come up with it themselves? Perhaps he’d saved just enough from dire circumstances to spin such a myth? He knew Persian was infamous for picking up beggars and the like throughout Arethil; diamonds he called them. Ugly out of the ground but just needed polishing.

It had certainly been enough for the odd pet to develop an obsession over the years.

He didn’t dare say that to Seteta. She was angry, and when she slowed he quietly put an arm around her and herded her to his side. “It’s not a bad thing to want to end slavery, Seteta. The Volkers are proof of that. Even those who still love Oor do it out of some…misguided sense of duty or love. Persian did a bad thing taking your people…but it’s likely those memories have all been lost here. They just know they were born here, and at some point they arrived. They have no elders to teach them. Listen, when we purchase a few at Auction…do your best to teach them. Maybe it will teach you how to guide others.” He kissed her cheek. “Please don’t shatter that opal.”

He bought her a bowl of noodles and grilled pork belly from a nearby cart. They were clearly hitting a portion of the industrial quarter where food was a large industry. Every working man had to eat, after all, and food carts meant they could be brought in for the workday and bustled away at the end. There were runners, people with heavy carts brimming with rice that would sell a bowl topped with meat of some sort, then whisk the dirty dishes away into a bin at the back of the cart and rush toward the blacksmiths or glass workers.

Chaceledon ate sparingly. There was really no dignified way to eat noodles, but he did his best.

“Chace?! Chace!!!” A woman, about as tall as Chaceledon but much wider, seized him about the waist. She was generously proportioned and round, her cheeks dappled with freckles and bright orange eyes. She had hair of his exact shade in wild ringlets, barely contained in a messy bun at the back of her head. She squeezed him, picking him up full off the ground with a bellowing laugh. “It is you!”

A sheepish figure came up next to them and cleared his throat, offering a hand to Seteta. He had warm, mossy eyes and dark skin the color of coffee with too much milk. His hair was about as wild as the woman; heavily dreadlocked black hair in curtains around his back and shoulders. He too, was tall, and recalled a shape Chaceledon’s body promised if he ever got his weight stable.

Chaceledon stared as he was plunked down, whipped around, and the woman grabbed his cheeks. “Where have you been you stupid boy? We got word that you had never come back from that stupid party but by the time we arrived no one could find you. And you know how father is he’s a stubborn bigoted bullheaded twat of a snake who wouldn’t lift a finger and your mother was convinced you’d gone mad and well I told…Gharnir! Didn’t I tell you he’d not go mad like that? Didn’t I say! And here he is. Oh give me the stupid bowl- Gharnir hold this? - and give me a hug! You wouldn’t believe the amount of nonsense we’ve gone through all these years and…”

Chaceledon couldn’t get a word in edgewise, just gaping like a fish. The darker man, Gharnir, chuckled and offered a hand to Seteta. “Gharnir, formerly of Dahn Alder. Well, hedahn now.” he said warmly. “Just let her exhaust herself, it’s pointless to interrupt.”

“Oh my gods who is this Gharnir?” The woman enveloped Seteta just as quickly, temporarily abandoning the dazed Chaceledon. “Abtati, aren’t you? You look like my Gharnir so much I almost thought you’d be a relative of his which is why I dragged him in for a closer look then I noticed my brother standing here like the little string bean pole he is and oh here I am prattling on. Carnelia, his older sister. Who are you? Don’t tell me, he’s found a business partner at long last. I knew all that couldn’t be true but the man could at least pen something to me..”

Gharnir hid a smile and nodded at Seteta. It was clear she was going to have to interrupt if she ever wanted a word in edgewise.

Seteta

 

[Seteta]

Seteta melted into his side as Chaceledon held her close. It was only barely past midday and so much had happened already. Her mind and heart felt like they were whirling, with no hope of settling.

He was right. She would have to learn how to speak with them. How to help them think for themselves. It would take months, if not years, in some cases.

She huffed when he kissed her cheek. "The opal is in no danger of shattering," she reassured him. "It just... helps to hold it. It's soothing."

Seteta kept hold of the opal while Chaceledon fetched food, standing out of the way of the bustling foot traffic on the street. She was famished, she realized, when the scent of the noodle and pork belly bowl hit her, and she handed over the opal for him to tuck away in a pocket in his robes while she leaned against a shop wall and ate, noisily slurping the broth and noodles down without hesitation or embarrassment.

She tensed for a moment, almost choking on a mouthful of noodles, as she heard a woman's voice call out her lover's name. Dear Abtatu, if she had to deal with another jilted lover on top of everything else this day...

But then Chaceledon was... tackled, essentially, and Seteta relaxed just a little when she realized this woman had the same color of hair. Family. It had to be family. Then a throat was cleared, and Seteta looked over to see another man, and suddenly she felt incredibly... short.

Then the talking started, and Seteta took a deep breath. Her mind was still spinning, and while she tried to keep up with everything the woman was spouting, it was a lot. Ignoring the offered hand from the strange man for a moment, she took advantage of the chaos to slurp down the rest of her food, managing to piece together that this must be the sister Chaceledon had mentioned once, the one who'd married for love. He hadn't mentioned any other sister, at least.

A giggle did escape her, though. Other than the time she teased him about not knowing how to brush her teeth, she hadn't seen Chaceledon speechless like this. Ever.

The darker man, Gharnir, chuckled and offered a hand to Seteta. “Gharnir, formerly of Dahn Alder. Well, hedahn now.” he said warmly. “Just let her exhaust herself, it’s pointless to interrupt.”

She was just reaching out to take Gharnir's hand and introduce herself when she was accosted as well. Once she was back on her feet and straightening her dress, she just sighed and shook her head.

"I'm Seteta," she spoke up in the very briefest of pauses that Carnelia took for a breath of air. "And I wouldn't say that Chaceledon and I are business partners." She glanced over at him fondly then, the very faintest of blush coloring her cheeks.

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

Chaceledon gaped. “Carnelia? What are you doing in Pedeo?” he managed to squeak out. She hit him in the shoulder, pulling a sharp ow from the younger dragon.

“Well that’s a fine greeting to your beloved sister.” she huffed, tossing her curls and smiling at Seteta. She caught the look Seteta gave Chaceledon and squealed loudly, grabbing Seteta’s hands. “Oh Abtatu and fire I knew it! We heard your story being bantered around in Ragash and we thought ‘no, couldn’t possibly’ so we went to Annuakat but you weren’t there and so we gave up. We were just on our way back north, and we thought we’d see if we could protect any poor souls.”

“Persian gives released pets until their feet touch the sea to find safety. We help them. They’re often robbed or killed.” Gharnir clarified gently, in his soft voice.

“How are the poor dears supposed to survive the desert at all with no training? Theyre just given a large line of credit and kicked out the doors after three days with not so much as a ‘by your leave’! It’s a disgrace! So when we can we show up to Auction and help the poor things. It’s just awful, absolutely awful. Toddlers kicked out into the sands with a small fortune and not a lick of common sense! Oh when I think about it it just…hnf!” she sneezed a small plume of red flame. Gharnir patted her shoulder.

“You’ve been here all this time..?” Chaceledon whispered. He had a sudden and very sharp need to sit down. All this time being Oor’s escorts to formal events, the VIP tiers of Auction and the Ring of Teeth, and family members had been so close? He had never been allowed in the Outer Wheel without an escort, and even trips to the gem markets had been carefully supervised. Oor must have known, or at least conspired to keep him away from other dragons.

Chaceledon grabbed Seteta’s shoulder, looking a bit ashen. Carnelia was quick to hug him again. “I was so worried you wouldn’t even acknowledge me, being hedahn. This is all very scandalous in draconian circles.” she giggled at Seteta. “Don’t worry I stopped caring what those stuffy old lizards thought a long time ago.”

Chaceledon embraced her back, burying his face in her shoulder. He remembered her. His older sister, always with an appetite and a kind word, who never stopped talking. He felt the sudden need to apologize; he’d always teased her about her weight, and her talking. Even as children she was an odd duck among dragons. “Carnelia, this is Seteta. My koiros. It’s…quite a long story. Ive got property here, if you want to stay with us..? It’s in the Inner Wheel.”

Carnelia giggled at him. “Of course, but you had better fill your larders. Can’t stoke a fire without good wood!” she declared, winking at Seteta. “Liking them dusky runs in the family I gather.”

Seteta

 

[Seteta]

"Annuakat... didn't quite go as we hoped," Seteta told Carnelia with a gentle smile. "We had to leave rather unexpectedly."

As Carnelia rambled on about what they were doing there, about what really happened when Persian 'freed' his pets, her gut twisted. Mouth tightening and anger flaring in her eyes for just a moment, but it faded when she saw how Chaceledon's face paled when he realized what she had long suspected.

At any time, Persian could have reached out and reunited Chaceledon with his family. Oor could not have coordinated it so well, to keep them apart, without Persian's help within Pedeo. When he grabbed her shoulder, she reached up and squeezed his hand, though he was tugged away into Carnelia's embrace before she could do or say anything else.

"He's told me some," Seteta murmured when Carnelia talked of the scandal, then blushed and shrugged when the female dragon commented on apparent family tastes.

"Will Rheinhard know what to do if I ask him to stock the kitchen?" she asked, reaching over to slip her hand into Chaceledon's again. "He'll want to know before we arrive about guests, anyway."

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

Carnelia seemed to notice how pale Chaceledon was. She fell silent, and looked around them. Perhaps it would be wise to get somewhere to sit down…this clearly was a lot for all of them. Gharnir had clearly not taken the news as hard, but the forest dragon was merely an in-law through this process, and wasn’t given to making a fuss out of things even at the worst of times. He was the even keel to her chaos, and she was swiftly realizing that Seteta was the more sensate of their couple as well.

“What? Yes, he should be fine. Let him know we found two of my family members, and that we’re on our way. He’s used to running a household.” Chaceledon said a bit shakily. Persian had to know about Carnelia and Gharnir. Why hadn’t he told him? A favor to Oor? Why not tell him afterwards..? Surely that wasn’t the sort of thing that slipped one’s mind.

Carnelia looked around for Gharnir, but her husband had already turned in the noodle bowl and was waiting for them by the entrance to the Inner Wheel. The entrance was slowly grinding toward them with the rotation of the Outer Wheel. Carnelia tapped Seteta and Chaceledon. “I think we ought to head inside where there are less ears around for this conversation.” she said lightly, a soft smile on her face. She liked Seteta; she’d been hoping that Chaceledon would find someone a bit better suited to him than, well, a wraith.

Chaceledon took a deep breath and squeezed Seteta’s hand. Carnelia was right. “Let’s head home. Hopefully some of your clothes were delivered.” He kissed his lover’s hand, steadying himself. “You’re alright?”

“I think she’s more worried about you, dear.” Carnelia said playfully. They stepped through to the Inner Wheel, and Chaceledon recovered enough to lead them toward the Lion House. Carnelia was content to lag behind with Gharnir, whispering excitedly.

“I hadn’t even met her husband yet…” Chaceledon said helplessly, looking at Seteta. How much time had he lost? He let her go on the path to the door, noticing the lions perked up at her arrival. They nosed her, wanting the meat she’d promised, and looked a bit disappointed without it. At least as much as gargoyles could look disappointed.

Rheinhard made himself scarce the second Carnelia and Gharnir stepped foot into the lobby. He was watching, carefully, from the garden. Like a nervous stallion he was putting as much distance between himself and the other dragons as he could, but not letting them out of his sight.

“I don’t think I’ve seen a pet quite that old in a while. Hello, dear!” Carnelia waved at him. Rheinhard bared his teeth at her. “Rude old thing.”

Seteta

 

[Seteta]

Seteta nodded, grateful for the silence that fell over the group for a few moments. Biting her lip, her gaze became slightly unfocused as she focused her awareness inward, reaching for that cord that Nestor had told her about.

Rheinhard? We're on way back. We found Chaceledon's sister and her husband, and they're going to stay at the Lion House with us. Can you get the kitchen stocked? I need meat, too, for the gargoyles. They won't be picky. Thank you. And... I'm sorry about the last little while. I'll work on not projecting my emotions to you. It's just... a lot has happened the last little while, and everything has been a bit overwhelming to keep track of.

Carnelia tapped Seteta and Chaceledon. “I think we ought to head inside where there are less ears around for this conversation.” she said lightly, a soft smile on her face.

"Less ears would be good," Seteta murmured as they waited for the entrance to the Inner Wheel, and was glad when Chaceledon suggested the Lion House, as much as it made her think of Oor.

“Let’s head home. Hopefully some of your clothes were delivered.” He kissed his lover’s hand, steadying himself. “You’re alright?”

“I think she’s more worried about you, dear.” Carnelia said playfully.

Seteta smiled a little, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Still a little shaken," she spoke softly. The last few days had been... a lot. Between Annuakat and taking the Well, as well as all three of them being hurt... at some point, she would need things to just... stop. Even for a day. But she suspected it wouldn't be until after the auction.

"Carnelia's not wrong, though," Seteta said, gently squeezing his hand as they stepped into the Inner Wheel, Carnelia and Gharnir falling back behind them as they walked. "Right now I am more worried about you."

“I hadn’t even met her husband yet…” Chaceledon said helplessly, looking at Seteta.

"You have time now, sehejib," she murmured, reaching up to touch his face as they paused to let some pets pass them, carrying things that must be for the auction. Seteta didn't take any particular notice of them at that moment. "Don't waste it on regrets of what you might have done differently. You can only change the future, not the past."

She tucked herself under his arm when they resumed their walk again, wrapping her own around his waist, savoring just being close to him in a small bubble of peace for a few minutes.

When they returned to the Lion House, the gargoyles immediately perked up and came to greet her. She scratched their chins and rubbed their ears, quietly telling them that Carnelia and Gharnir were allowed in the house indefinitely. When the cats sniffed her over for the promised meat, still scenting the pork belly she'd eaten earlier, she apologized, laughing softly when their tails drooped and their ears sagged in disappointment. "Soon," she whispered, leaning down to kiss each one on the nose. "I promise."

She followed the three dragons into the house, just in time to hear Carnelia's comment about Rheinhard.

"That's Rheinhard," she spoke firmly. "He's Chaceledon's adopted son, not a pet."

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

“Son? Well, come on in and say hello!” Carnelia called to Rheinhard. The other snorted at her, and moved away to sit in the grass. Carnelia shrugged. “Frankly I’m a little surprised he’s so…plain.”

Chaceledon smiled faintly at Rheinhard. He didn’t trust the other dragons, and was keenly aware even the bubbly Carnelia could end him with a swipe. It made him nervous, as evidenced by his uncomfortable huffing and taking up a strategic position in the grass. Chaceledon noticed he was close to both the side garden wall and able to see them, making both defense of his family and escape equally possible. Chaceledon didn’t blame him; Carnelia was too much even for highly social nobles. To the Well, and men like Rheinhard and Nestor, she would be sheer torture.

Gharnir smiled faintly, standing next to Seteta. “Like a wolf. He can get through that window and attack me or get over that wall and either prevent my escape or get to us from behind.” he said knowingly as Carnelia grabbed a trio of wine glasses and set about making them a snack plate. She swanned around the kitchen, raiding the larders Rheinhard had just had delivered. Half of it was still in packaging. She set out a cutting board full of cheese, meat, crackers, and began cutting up dried fruit and vegetables.

“So. Tell me absolutely everything. Last we heard you’d eloped with some Silent Court noble and had no interest in seeing anyone. Honestly, by then I was out of the family so I’m not sure how true that really is. I did try and find you but it was really like playing that silly hiding game when we were children. By the time I caught wind of a red haired blacksmith who blew purple fire, the last sighting of you had been weeks ago or the town was burned to cinders. So, tell me everything. How you adopted a son, met this pretty little thing, everything.” Carnelia babbled like a brook as she cut, sliced and arranged. More of it was nibbled away than was put on the board.

Gharnir made a quiet foray into the garden, settling on the grass with a sigh. He smiled at Rheinhard, who circled him mistrustfully before sitting squarely behind him. “Coming to Pedeo is always hard for poor Gharnir. He’s made of wind and trees that one. He’s good with animals too.” Carnelia giggled. “Seteta! Tell me how you met up with these two.”

Seteta

 

[Seteta]

Seteta was tempted to try and say something reassuring to Rheinhard, but she doubted it would do anything other than make him feel pressured, so she stayed silent, and just gave him a helpless look. At Gharnir's observation, she laughed softly. "I'm sure he has about ten other plans as well for if he feels that Chaceledon is threatened. This is... just the first time he's had the freedom to actually exercise those skills, if he feels a need to."

As Carnelia began putting together some of the food, Seteta quickly sorted through the rest of it and found the raw meat. Carnelia kept chattering at Chaceledon, and Seteta quickly divided up the meat into several small portions, then found a couple of plates and took it some out to the gargoyles.

"Here you go," she murmured, setting a plate in front of each cat. She watched silently for a few minutes as they ate, puffs of smoke escaping from their muzzles and nostrils as it had with the stone pit bulls in Witherhold. When they'd licked the plates clean, Seteta scratched each of their heads between the ears, retrieved the plates, and went back inside.

Carnelia was still babbling away when she returned, and Seteta tugged Chaceledon over to sit at the table where she'd shared breakfast with Rheinhard, settling herself in his lap again. She just... wanted to be close to him. Wanted to be held. They were both processing a lot of information at the moment.

“Coming to Pedeo is always hard for poor Gharnir. He’s made of wind and trees that one. He’s good with animals too.” Carnelia giggled. “Seteta! Tell me how you met up with these two.”

Seteta tipped her head back and laughed then, the memory of that day in Fal'Addas just the thing she needed to lighten her heart at the moment. It hadn't even been half a year yet, but she already couldn't imagine her life--her future--without him at her side.

With a sigh, she leaned her head against Chaceledon's chest, lacing her fingers through his. "I'd been in Falwood for maybe a week," she spoke softly. "I'd left the sands to explore the world for a while, after my tribe was forced to disband. I was in desperate need of warmer clothing, and somehow I ended up in his shop.

"I couldn't tell if he was a man or a woman, but either way, he was utterly beautiful and absolutely rude. The first thing he did was scrub my hands and paint my nails. And then he made me strip in the middle of the shop stating that if I was too hairy, he would have nothing to do with me. Then he shoved me into a bath."

She shook with quiet laughter.

"That was how I met Rheinhard. He wandered back into the shop when I came out of the bath, naked and dripping water everywhere. But at some point, as he dressed me, he asked for help. Or, well, implied that he was in need of help. And there was something in his eyes that made me think if he didn't get that help, and soon, something dreadful would happen to him. Not to his body, but his heart. So I agreed to try."

She'd told Chaceledon, after the first time they made love--really made love, not just teased each other--about the Inizae custom, where they seek out a spirit of the desert to reveal the potential paths of their lives. She'd told him about the shamaness--the form the spirit had taken for her--but... she had not told him that she'd been taken to a sea of dragon-glass. Of the words the shamaness had uttered. That she'd made a choice in the shop that day.

It was not common for Inizae to share the details of their vision quests with others. Many didn't even share them with their spouses later. But one day... one day, she would tell him.

"As for what brought him and Rheinhard to that point, he will have to tell that."

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

Chaceledon welcomed her into his arms, if only to relish and find comfort in her weight on his lap and the sound of her voice. He listened to her tell their story with a smile, his thumb stroking over her hand. He could listen to this story a thousand times and never tire of it once. He had a reason, just one reason, to thank the cold.

Carnelia, for once, didnt dare interrupt. She grazed on the board she’d made, settled and listening intently to Seteta. It was such a romantic tale! Chaceledon kissed the top of her head when the story had been passed to him. “I met Rheinhard when he was three. A poor, skinny little thing. I remember just…the uproar to the house. Klaus, his father, unraveling. It was just the end of a normal cycle. Klaus had been alive far longer than any human is supposed to live, and he had become too hard for my captor to control. Klaus Volker was a burning forest; he consumed himself as much as he did everything around him. He did love me as a mother, of that I have little doubt. He cried and begged and tried to kill Rheinhard twice. But he died, the same as the others, and I was left with a frightened three year old who could barely speak and had a badly mangled shoulder from his sire.”

Chaceledon shook his head a bit, a sad smile on his face. “It took him a week to come out of the trees. I’d startle him in the morning, like a squirrel. When he did finally let me bathe him, and see to his wounds, he held me so tight…I was mother from then after. I held him after every job, every butchery and war. I put him back together every time Oor ripped open my door and threw him in a broken heap on my carpet. When he grew old enough to be out on his own, mid twenties or so, he became a babysitter of sorts. I was let out, the perks of being a good captive for so long, and he was there to protect me and make sure I was put back in the cage.”

Chaceledon looked down at Seteta’s hand in his. “He was so sweet and troubled growing up…I remember the first job, the first time he knew women had no interest for him, his first formal robes, everything. I was too hurting and proud to ask Seteta for help. Rheinhard was the one who saw how strong she truly was.” He chuckled. Who would have thought the killer born and bred to savagery would have known better than the seasoned socialite? “I fell in love with her slowly. At first I didn’t believe she’d succeed. She was naive and young; but had a good heart. I remember pulling Rheinhard aside and asking him if she would die quickly. He just looked at me and told me she wouldn’t, in that strangely resolute way he says everything. He was right. Night by night she charmed me, and helped me not to be so bitter and rageful. It spoke to me that she…mistrusted my children, but she never hated them. She handled wraiths and trolls and psychotics alike with determination and grace. I could never envision a life without her.”

Carnelia smiled at them, and gave a wistful sigh. “You two are perfect for each other. Just like me and Gharnir are. And she’s so pretty.” She nodded to the dragon settled on the grass. “He was the only one who saw me for me. Not for what I looked like. But me. What will you do now? You’re so close to the dahn’s land.”

“Rest here for a month or two. The world hasn’t stopped spinning since we started running.” Chaceledon laughed.

Seteta

 

[Seteta]

Seteta listened quietly as Chaceledon spoke of Rheinhard's history. She hadn't learned most of it yet, and she knew none of the Volkers had easy lives, but the things Rheinhard had endured from so young... it made her heart ache.

But her heart also warmed when she heard that Rheinhard had faith in her from the beginning. He hadn't given a hint of it to her, merely warning her time and time again that it might be a futile task. That he'd kill her if she hurt Chaceledon. But she'd known, at least, that Rheinhard respected her skills. They would not have starved or gone without water if Rheinhard hadn't been able to help in that way.

She just smiled at Carnelia's compliment, but then a moment later was twisting around to scowl up at Chaceledon.

"Rest here for a month or two?" she nearly screeched. "I love you, sehejib, but you'll be coming to court me in a tent outside the city gates if you expect me to live for more than a few days in your former husband's house in a city ruled by the one who has enslaved my people for thousands of years."

She didn't trust Persian. He'd switched from Oor's side to theirs awfully quickly, and while she suspected he had been sincere about the change in that moment, she wasn't sure it would last.

But to be cut off from the earth for that long, too... Chaceledon had endured thousands of years away from the heat of the sands, but he'd had to. She did not.

"Have you told her about Oor yet?" she said a moment later, voice softer, gesturing towards Carnelia. "About why you disappeared?"

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

Chaceledon blinked. He’d been looking forward to…well, a nice long rest. Let Seteta adjust to domestic life as well as Rheinhard. Maybe start up a small boutique here in Pedeo. He knew she hated the place but he had no idea how virulently. Carnelia giggled. “Seems you’re moving on after Auction. Gharnir and I live in Floiland, near Alliria. We have a treehouse there; a giant redwood. You really can’t miss her, Gharnir planted her and encouraged her to grow.” She said.

Chaceledon nodded. They would go and see her. But Floiland? It wasn’t warm at all, except in the summer. It had drifts of snow in winter, really. Chaceledon didn’t want to see snow for at least a few more millennia. Seteta’s prompt made them both quiet. He toyed with Seteta’s hair, taking her updo down and unbraiding it as he talked.

“I…was angry at Father. He wasn’t particularly keen on me either. I embarrassed him constantly, and he hated the business I had making jewelry for people he thought were lesser. So the last party I threw, I…well…I intended to sleep with a wraith and throw it in his face. It was so juvenile. Oor was there, and once I was cold, and away from the sands, that was it. I was drugged and barely noticed my magic bleeding away. The underground had this sort of…sexual appeal at first. Then I had my claws taken away, and I was left freezing in that horrible house. The first few weeks he beat me, raped me. Threatened to gouge out my eyes and cut off my nose, or turn me into a drooling sex doll. The Volkers ignored me at first. I didn’t think they thought I’d survive long. Then with the newest one, he had this idea that I’d mother them. He plunked a toddler in my arms, and told me to keep it alive, and that was all I had.”

Carnelia grew quiet, and still for a moment. “The morning after your party…we were looking for you. Me and your brother. Peridot was both angry and crying, and she refused to speak with us. She thought we’d been in on your plan…more me than your brother. We were told that you’d gone home with the wraith, and that a living person in the Silent Court often didn’t come out alive. I never had any doubt you were alive, wraith or no, but Callas thought you’d been slaughtered. You’re not hedahn, at least not to my knowledge, and Mother still has your egg, but she mourned you as though dead. She burned her clothes and hair, and sang a song for your spirit. Father was insensate with rage. He tore her from the sky. She was always dramatic, like you, and he hated that.”

Carnelia sighed. “I know you need to rest. But…if you wanted to make an interesting comeback…there’s always your estate.”

Seteta

 

[Seteta]

"We'll visit," Seteta promised, though the thought of Alliria--she wasn't familiar with Floiland--made her shiver. It would be colder than Falwood had been, of that she was certain. Even in summer. But she did still want to see other parts of the world, though she suspected that the desert truly was home now in more ways than it had been before.

She shivered again--for entirely different reasons--when Chaceledon's fingers started playing through her hair, unpinning and undoing the braided bun he'd arranged it in earlier. Whenever his fingertips grazed her skin--her scalp, her neck, her shoulders--as he arranged her hair, her own fingers twitched against the side of his leg. He was so, so warm now, and it spread through her with the slightest touch.

It helped to fight the chill of dread that twisted in her gut as he spoke of the past. Her own touch shifted, her hand gently and soothingly stroking up the side of his thigh.

As Carnelia told of the aftermath of his disappearance, Seteta wondered if she should speak of the letter from Chaceledon's father that Oor had given her. Thankfully, it had been left behind in Witherhold. She still suspected it was a forgery, though, and she didn't want to stir up a grievance that might not even exist in the end.

Carnelia sighed. “I know you need to rest. But…if you wanted to make an interesting comeback…there’s always your estate.”

Seteta took Chaceledon's hand in hers again, softly tracing her fingers over his knuckles. "We need to find the girl we ran into in Maraan," she murmured, then looked over at Carnelia. "A little over a week ago, we were approached by a pet in Maraan who recognized Chaceledon. She said she was from his estate, and that it was being dissolved. Do you know if it's true?"

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

Chaceledon hid a smile at her hand sliding up his thigh. He moved her hair to kiss the nape of her neck, and continued braiding it. He could face anything with her by his side. Desire burned hot and low for her, and even the way her beautiful neck melted into her shoulders was wanton to him. He braided her hair simply in a long chain down her back, his artful fingers keeping it neat and nestled between those attractive shoulders.

Carnelia shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. The pet would have returned here if she was set free from the house. I suppose the easiest way to figure that out is requesting to see Persian’s registry. If they’ve all returned to Pedeo…you’ve got your answer.” she said softly.

“Will you stay with us tonight? There are a dozen rooms in this infernal house.” Chaceledon mentioned.

Carnelia glanced outside. Gharnir had twice attempted to approach Volker. Chaceledon followed her gaze; honestly, the other man wasn’t doing too poorly. He settled in the grass whenever Volker warned him off, and approached slowly. That was at least until a knife buried itself in the turf centimeters from his feet. Gharnir gave up the game, sensing that was the final warning he would get, and returned to the kitchen to peruse some of the fruit his wife had cut. “Try not to tease him too much. He needs rest.” Chaceledon chided gently.

“Well, what would we like to do to occupy ourselves until dinner? I think a quiet evening with a few glasses of wine and a deck of cards sounds lovely.”

Seteta

 

[Seteta]

Seteta hummed softly, head tilting forward at the feel of Chaceledon's lips at her nape. His fingers kept brushing over the skin of her shoulders as he braided her hair again, and she gently leaned into his touch. Other than their moment in bed that morning, they hadn't been intimate since leaving Ragash, and she was missing his touch.

"You should probably talk to Persian soon, then," she murmured to Chaceledon as Carnelia suggested checking the records. "If your estate is in the process of being dissolved, you'll need to make an appearance there sooner rather than later."

As Chaceledon asked about Carnelia and Gharnir staying the night, Seteta followed the other woman's gaze out to the garden, wincing just slightly as Rheinhard tossed the knife. Cleary his patience was at its limit.

“Well, what would we like to do to occupy ourselves until dinner? I think a quiet evening with a few glasses of wine and a deck of cards sounds lovely.”

"I would like to rest a while," Seteta said quietly, her fingers softly stroking up and down Chaceledon's thigh. Resting and cuddling for a while would be nice. "It's been... an eventful few days. I should tend to my face again soon too."

The cuts had improved significantly, but she probably shouldn't let the makeup sit on them for too long, not until new skin was forming.

"Perhaps wine and cards after dinner?" she suggested. "A few hours of rest, and then I'll come down and help Rheinhard cook." She glanced at the other woman. "Or whoever is taking charge of the cooking. I just know it's not Chaceledon, if we want it to be edible."

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

Chaceledon smiled at Seteta. He was thinking the same. They hadn’t had the chance to be intimate in quite a while, and not having the looming specter of Rheinhard’s abuse made him relaxed. He wanted his estate; that was important to get his lover away from Pedeo. But he had been gone so long, what was another week? He pushed all thoughts of what they had to do aside and kissed the side of her neck.

Carnelia giggled. “You two rest. I can take care of dinner. If your son wants to help me, he’s more than welcome. I’d like to meet him anyway.” she winked at Chaceledon and stood. “I’m sure this godforsaken house has a gaming table somewhere. I’ll see about it while you work on making me an auntie.” She grinned and swanned toward Gharnir. She herded her husband into the next room to explore the house, chattering away. She was clearly excited to see her brother again. Chaceledon felt the same way…it was good to have Carnelia around. A little puff of laughter.

Chaceledon picked Seteta up and carried her toward the stairs, nuzzling her nose with his. “I don’t think you’re going to get much rest once I get that gorgeous green thing off you.” he told her in a husky whisper, ascending the stairs. His mouth darted to hers hungrily.

Seteta

 

[Seteta]

Seteta melted back into Chaceledon's hold as his lips teased over her neck, then blushed a little at Carnelia's teasing, but she didn't feel the need to clarify that there wasn't any chance of making the dragoness an auntie yet. As Carnelia and Gharnir vanished to explore the house, Seteta laughed quietly as Chaceledon scooped her up into his arms and carried her up the stairs.

She hummed, shivering in his arms, as he devoured her mouth. She met him in kind, nipping at his lips with her teeth and gently biting his chin when they finally parted.

"I do need to clean my face first," she murmured as they neared the bedroom. "But I'll spare you the stench of the ointment until afterward."

Seteta bit her lip a little nervously then. "Rheinhard... this morning he said he could... ah... feel what I was feeling. I... think I can solve it. Hopefully."

Still resting in Chaceledon's arms, Seteta scrunched her eyes closed. She reached for that cord now connecting her and Rheinhard, and imagined pushing it outside of a door. She'd considered putting it on the other side of a wall, but that just... seemed like something she'd have to focus too much on keeping up. A door she could lock, and forget about for a while. And she did just that, quickly whispering a quiet apology to Rheinhard for if it didn't work.

She was hopeful that if he actually needed something, him tugging at the cord would... knock at the door as well, without making giving him access to her own thoughts and feelings right away.

"All right," she whispered. "I think it's fixed now."

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

Chaceledon was pleased to step out of a hot bath and find their clothing had been delivered. He’d have to send her dress off to be cleaned, but neither of them regretted that particular round of play. He gave Seteta a little more time to herself, knowing how sore she got. He made sure she had towels and a change of comfortable, loose fitting clothing, and did his makeup. Lightly this time, just enough powder to cover his scars and a light palette of copper for his eyes.

He was engaged. He smiled at the mirror. He was engaged to Seteta. And ye gods, what a wedding they would have! He’d been dreaming about his wedding since he was young. A crystal hall, a fantastic set of robes for himself and his beloved, flowers everywhere, a buffet that would make a king’s feast look like a charcuterie board. He sighed wistfully and headed downstairs to tell Rheinhard the news.

He passed the parlour, where Carnelia and Gharnir were curled up reading a book together. Gharnir was curled up in Carnelia’s deep red coils, playing idly with a strand of her long, lovely white mane. She held up the book so both could read, and Chaceledon smiled at them. He leaned against the doorway for a moment, then headed into the kitchen.

“I proposed.” Chaceledon told Rheinhard, smiling. His son looked up at him from the pan of green beans he was sautéing.

“Good. Seteta is a good woman.” He said quietly. Chaceledon quietly embraced him from behind, kissing his cheek.

“You don’t have to cook if you don’t want to, you know.”

“I am attending at the Ring tonight. I wanted you to eat before I left.”

Chaceledon frowned and drew back. “Rheinhard…you’ve only just recovered! Why on earth would you want to step a toe back in there?” he glanced at the doorway to the kitchen. “Is it Carnelia?”

Rheinhard sighed and dumped the beans out into a serving tray, pouring white wine in to deglaze the pan. “No.” He said, as though the conversation was done. Chaceledon sighed and let him go, squeezing his shoulder.

“Alright. I know you’re not much for card playing or conversation. Just be careful?”

Seteta

 

[Seteta]

Seteta soaked a little longer in the bath after Chaceledon stepped out of it. He'd made sure to clean both of them thoroughly, and melted blissfully into the water when he washed her hair, his fingers doing things to her scalp that she'd never dreamed of.

She followed him downstairs about a quarter of an hour after he'd stepped out of the bath. The pungent smell of the ointment unfortunately lingered around her, but she hadn't dared to put off re-applying it any longer, though she'd carefully dabbed on as little as possible. Her dark hair fell loose and long in soft waves, though still damp, nearly down to her hips. The trimmed length, and then some, had regrown since Chaceledon clipped it in Fal'Addas. The garment he'd laid out for her was delightfully soft and comfortable, a layered shift dress that fell nearly to the floor, a soft white with floral embroidery up the front and around the hem. She'd foregone any sort of footwear, enjoying the feel of the marble floors beneath her feet, the quiet hum of magic tickling at her skin.

When she passed the parlor where Gharnir and Carnelia had settled, she smiled and nodded, but didn't interrupt them nor draw their attention to the ring now adorning her finger and continued on to the kitchen. She lingered outside the doorway for a moment, not wanting to interrupt Chaceledon and Rheinhard if they were having a private conversation. Her brow furrowed, though, as she listened.

“I am attending at the Ring tonight. I wanted you to eat before I left.”

Chaceledon frowned and drew back. “Rheinhard…you’ve only just recovered! Why on earth would you want to step a toe back in there?” he glanced at the doorway to the kitchen. “Is it Carnelia?”

Rheinhard sighed and dumped the beans out into a serving tray, pouring white wine in to deglaze the pan. “No.” He said, as though the conversation was done. Chaceledon sighed and let him go, squeezing his shoulder.

“Alright. I know you’re not much for card playing or conversation. Just be careful?”

She stepped inside, her gaze soft and fond when it fell on Chaceledon, and then friendly as she smiled at Rheinhard.

"Is there anything I can help with?" she asked, coming over to the stove to peek around the two men and see what was being fixed. "And what's the Ring?"

She understood Chaceledon's concern. Rheinhard was on the mend, but his ribs would take weeks to heal. But she suspected that Rheinhard needed something familiar to occupy himself with. She knew Chaceledon wanted him to have a life of leisure now... but from what she'd observed of Rheinhard so far, she knew the man would be utterly miserable like that.

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

Chaceledon set the beans on the island counter next to a pot of rice, and watched Rheinhard start braising chicken legs in the sauce he’d just made. “The Ring of Teeth. It’s a fighting pit in the Outer Wheel.” Chaceledon explained with a sigh. “Its not as though you’ve got to earn your keep anymore, darling. Those ribs need healing and you’re hardly in a position to get thrown around on the sand.”

Rheinhard was silent, but frustrated. He wasn’t meant to be…domestic. He was used to healing as fast as possible, getting on his feet and earning cash. There was also the problem of his head being so quiet. Nestor wasn’t given to noise, and it felt so empty with everyone asleep. They had more work to do in the Well to get Seteta used to it, but it was such a drastic change. He looked at the ring on her finger. “Congratulations.” He told her quietly.

“I suppose you’ve got to get used to calling her mother instead of me.” Chaceledon joked. Rheinhard filled their bowls with rice and green beans, topping them with chicken and a little fish sauce. Rheinhard set the bowls for Seteta, Chaceledon, Carnelia and Gharnir on a platter. His own he bolted, seemingly without tasting it.

“Let’s go disturb the lovebirds, Seteta.” Chaceledon kissed his cheek and picked up the platter. “I’d really rather you rest and read a book.” he chided, and headed toward the parlor.

“I can’t read.” Rheinhard muttered, and rolled up his sleeves to do the dishes.

Seteta

 

[Seteta]

Since Rheinhard didn't answer her question about anything she could help with, Seteta just stepped back out of the way and watched as he finished up the dinner.

"Thank you," she said with a quiet smile when Rheinhard offered his congratulations, and then she subtly--gently--elbowed Chaceledon in the ribs when he joked about her being called mother now. But she smiled again when he kissed her cheek before grabbing the platter of food bowls, though she didn't follow behind him right away.

As Rheinhard started filling the sink, she came to stand beside him at the counter.

"You don't have to call me anything other than Seteta," she told him. "I think you calling me mother, even if that wasn't Chaceledon's role in your life, would be... superbly awkward now that you know my age."

As she spoke, she quietly went within her mind and unlocked and opened the door she'd put up between her emotions and the cord binding her and Rheinhard. She didn't reach out to grasp it, though. Just made it more easily accessible for both of them once more.

"Do you want me to wake up any of the others in the Well?" she asked. "You could go and spar there instead, where you won't hurt your ribs further."

She hesitated for a moment, then offered further, "I can't read very well. Nestor is going to start helping me with that. I'm sure he wouldn't mind teaching you either at the same time."

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

Volker silently began washing dishes. He’d bolted his food so quickly his bowl wasn’t even cold. He looked over at her; he hadn’t been planning on calling her anything other than her name. It was who she was to him; an equal. “Nestor is not a very kind teacher.” He warned. “But you will need to read common as an Asaya. I would begin on draconian as well. Aron would be better suited to that, and Gere for your common. Nestor is a smart creature but don’t let him fool you into thinking he is the only one with book education.”

Volker nodded to the door. “I will stay here…Mother makes a decent point about my injuries. The male dragon is…odd. They are both odd. I don’t know how to think of them.” He scrubbed the sink full of dishes, adding flakes of bar soap and swirling the water to help it dissolve, then scrubbing with a rough cloth. “Auction is tomorrow. Or at least the opening ceremonies. I miss the desert.”

This wasn’t really his world. He had been dragged around in it, and he knew enough not to get himself killed, but he’d never liked it. Being indoors all day, never working, fussing over appearances. Sending runners out for your groceries. Parties. He shook his head. “I cannot wait to leave this place. Chaceledon may be able to forget this house, and what happened in it. But I buried every body in these walls. Every pet that angered Oor, every petty power play. There’s too much death in this house.”

Seteta

 

[Seteta]

"I won't let him bully me," Seteta said when Rheinhard spoke of Nestor's teaching skills. "I suspected he was not the only one educated, though. Nestor suggested starting to learn draconian as well." She glanced down at her ring. "I think I should probably make that a priority now."

As Rheinhard said that he would stay in for the night, Seteta sighed with relief. "Thank you," she said, reaching over to gently pat his arm, then huffed and shook her head at his comment about Gharnir and Carnelia. "I'm not entirely sure what to make of them yet either. But perhaps you should try and join us for a round of whatever game they're settling on without us. You can sit between me and Chaceledon, and we can buffer them. And you can keep him from cheating by trying to distract me."

She watched for a moment as he scrubbed furiously at the dishes.

"If you'd rather be alone, though, or go into the Well, that's fine. Just let me know if you want me to wake up anyone besides Nestor, or have him go to sleep for a while."

When he mentioned Auction, she bit at her lip nervously, then turned around and hopped up to sit on the counter for a few minutes. "Is there... anything I should know, to mentally prepare myself?" she asked quietly. "Things that Chaceledon might not think to warn me about."

As Rheinhard talked about what he'd experienced in this house, though, she gripped the edges of the counter, her knuckles turning white.

"I have no desire to linger in this place," she said quietly. "Not in this house, nor in this city. I've made that clear to Chaceledon, and it's not something I will compromise on. I don't trust Persian, either.

"I can't erase the memories," she murmured. "But the house itself is safe now. Oor won't be able to enter without the very stones of this place coming down on him. And the gargoyles out front only answer to you, me, or Chaceledon now."

She hopped back down off the counter then, smoothing her dress with her hands. "I hope that you'll join us, at least for a little while. But it's all right if you don't."

Chaceledon