Private Tales Of Sand & Dragonfire

[Seteta]

"I think I could manage attending something tonight," Seteta murmured into his skin, planting a line of kisses over his collarbone and up his neck. "But I don't know if I have anything that you would deem appropriate to wear for it."

She didn't know how long it would take for their things to arrive from Pedeo, and she couldn't remember if any of the clothing they'd retrieved in Annuakat was more formal or not.

When Chaceledon mentioned her mother, though, Seteta sat up with a small smile, and leaned in to kiss his lips again.

"I sent out the call for the Inizae before we left Pedeo," she said. "Any Inizae who felt it will relay it on, until it's spread across the whole desert. There's a pre-arranged meeting spot, so I know where she'll be, just not when. It's not too far from here though--maybe four or five days on foot--so it'll be easy to check."

The Inizae wouldn't put out a call from the location, to protect both the sanctity of the place, and the tribe. It was a private place, kept hidden from anyone outside the tribe, though it was one of several. But Seteta would be able to cast her senses through the earth, and see if she sensed her family's presence there.

"Don't... speak of it to Hassani yet, though," Seteta said quietly. "He is Inizae by blood, but there are certain things he is not privy to unless he decides to join us."

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

Chaceledon smiled. “I’m always good at thinking on my feet. What I’m wearing should serve, and if we get your things from Pedeo that wonderful green dress. If we don’t, I’ll pull down some curtains and we can make you something. You live with a tailor my dulcid darling.” He chuckled. “I won’t say anything to Hassani. He’s still adjusting to being in a building outside of Pedeo, let alone being an Inizae. He’ll be staring at the sky for a bit.”

He got back to the business of bathing, wondering exactly what the gathering would look like. Was it only for emergencies, or was it for holidays as well? Would they be thrilled to gather for happy news? One of their own coming home and another getting married? Dragons would balk at the inconvenience.

When they were finished and dried, Chaceledon refreshed his makeup and crafted himself a simple pair of black nails. “Let me check on our things.” He strode naked out of the room. It was his home. He didn’t care one whit. Unfortunately, their things hadn’t arrived, and Chaceledon couldn’t find any curtains he was happy with. They were all too heavy and far outdated than even the simple clothes she wore! This home badly needed an update.

When he came back upstairs he was a bit frustrated. “Well…it’s an informal party. I’ll dress down a bit to match you and make sure your makeup is perfect.” He tutted. “What color scheme, do you think?”

“If it pleases asayani, the party is in a canyon not far from here. Outdoors, casual dress.” The pet came in offering dressing robes to Chaceledon and Seteta. “Your…erm…the Volker wishes to come along, for safety. Given what happened at the last party you attended.”

Chaceledon blinked. “Other dragons wouldn’t dare…”

“He makes a good point, Asaya.”

Seteta

 

[Seteta]

Seteta was loathe to leave the amethyst tub, and lingered in it even after it had drained, her arms crossed on the edge, and chin propped on her arms, humming quietly as she watched Chaceledon do his nails and makeup.

When he sauntered out of the bathroom, Seteta eyed his backside appreciatively, then finally hauled herself out of the tub and finished drying off.

Since she was waiting for Chaceledon to figure out the clothing, she didn't bother to pull anything on and simply sprawled naked across the bed while she waited. If she thought there would be time, she would duck into the Well and check in with Nestor, but she suspected Chaceledon would be back quickly.

She did close her eyes and let herself relax, though. She'd never felt truky at ease in Pedeo, both because she was Inizae and because she couldn't really feel the earth within the city. Chaceledon's estate, though, practically hummed with earth energy, and really the only way she could feel more at home was if she went outside and sprawled across the sand instead.

She heard Chaceledon coming back up the stairs and cracked open an eye as he entered the room again.

When he came back upstairs he was a bit frustrated. “Well…it’s an informal party. I’ll dress down a bit to match you and make sure your makeup is perfect.” He tutted. “What color scheme, do you think?”

"Hmm... my abaya is tan, with blue and copper borders," she said. "So whatever will match with that."

She sat up when the pet returned, slipping into the offered robe.

"Rheinhard coming along would probably be best," she agreed. "Especially if there is anyone who might be annoyed by my presence. Since I'm not a pet."

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

Chaceledon painted her nails a soft blue with flecks of copper, and made sure her eye makeup reflected the pale blue of a desert sky. He wanted to do more, but with her simple clothing so limited anything further would be overwrought. Volker, as always, was clean and in his usual blacks. Chaceledon tutted at him. “Hardy dear really. The knives? What are knives going to do against dragons? This is a party.”

“They go where I go.” Volker said simply, and crossed his arms. “Since I do not know what to expect.”

Chaceledon sighed and arranged Seteta’s hair. It was in a braid over one shoulder; simple, but elegant and done well. He really did need their things they’d bought in Pedeo, and all of his tailoring and lapidary gear brought from storage. That was no small order. He would just have to be settled with what he had.

The party wasn’t far, a short flight compared to the treks they were used to. It was heralded by sound. Pulsating magic and sound so loud it challenged the sky, among dozens of bodies dancing in rhythm to the music. When Chaceledon landed, shifted back and changed, they walked into the small area.

The sand under their feet was bare! No rugs, no nothing! The tables were simple, and covered with arrays of grilled meat and rice stewed in chili’s. One could smell the smoke from the dragon in charge of cooking…no servants or pets to be seen! Just dozens of young dragons nibbling on chicken satay and liquor from a shockingly well-stocked bar. Chaceledon stared in horror.

They were all dressed like Seteta.

Simple, plain, with nary a hairpin or painted eyelid to be found! These children were wild, racing around and laughing. The music thundered all around them, and Volker silently took Seteta’s hand.

You’re here to learn. He reminded her, while Chaceledon sputtered.

“Oua! Old man! What’s with the suit?” One of the younger dragons cackled at Chaceldon as he passed.

Old?!

“Brat!” Chaceledon snarled back at him, and hurried to catch up to Volker and Seteta. Volker seemed to have his eyes on the stage, where three dragons stood.

Each dragon was responsible for several layers of the music, each with its own tone and sound. One dragon was manipulating air, rapidly expanding and collapsing air pockets filled with magic to create the most unusual sounds Volker had ever heard. He also seemed to be responsible for the visual effects, a huge koi fish made of nothing but light and air, swimming over the procession. When the music dropped swiftly, the fish sharply turned itself inside out to become another color, shattering colored lights over the dancers.

The next layer was bass, and the dragon in charge was using pulsating masses of sand and rock, shivering magic through the very crystals themselves to create sound. Volker could feel it in his very rib cage, grounding him to the beat. The dragon used massive columns of basalt as instruments, ancient rocks exposed by wind and sand.

The third and final musician rose slightly above the other two to lead the music, light and loud tones that led the others like the point in a good dog team. Volker could barely hear himself think!

Seteta

 

[Seteta]

Seteta changed back into her abaya, then relaxed as Chaceledon did her nails and makeup, grateful that it didn't take terribly long. She just laughed quietly when he acted put out about Rheinhard's knives. If there was anything Seteta was certain of, it was that Rheinhard would find a vulnerable spot on a dragon if he needed to.

She felt the party before it was within sight. The very air swelled and throbbed with sound and magic, and she shivered. Soon they'd landed, and Chaceledon was dressed again, and they wandered into the party.

Seteta couldn't help but grin, a small bout of giggles escaping her. It reminded her very much of the casual get-togethers the younger Inizae would throw together whenever they were at an oasis, especially if any other Abtati tribes were there as well. Since oases and sources of water were sacred--fighting and skirmishes strictly forbidden at them, even if mortal enemies came face to face--they also afforded the opportunity for socializing with those outside their immediate tribes. They weren't nearly this large, though.

Chaceledon's horror was clearly written across his face. If she hadn't known that everyone here, with the exception of likely only her and Volker, were dragons, it could have been one of those gatherings.

The music thundered all around them, and Volker silently took Seteta’s hand.

You’re here to learn. He reminded her, while Chaceledon sputtered.

I know, Seteta answered back as Rheinhard escorted her through the crowd. Though I suspect this is much less formal than a nameday dance like Hokkaido expects.

She looked back over her shoulder, catching the interaction between Chaceledon and the younger dragon, and though she couldn't understand what was said, it wasn't hard to figure out that Chaceledon was being teased. Laughing softly, she took Chaceledon's hand when he was near enough, soothingly stroking his wrist.

As the performance continued, she was sorely tempted to strip off her shoes and let her toes play in the sand. The koi illusion was impressive, and Seteta was more than capable of pulling something like that off, but it would cost her greatly. But she was just going to observe tonight. Not make firm plans. She needed to know a lot more about the dahn she would be creating this performance for.

She felt Rheinhard edging towards a little bit of overwhelm through the bond, though, and she gently squeezed his hand.

Music like this isn't meant for thinking, she told him. It's meant to felt.

"Well, gentlemen," she grinned, looking back and forth at her two companions. "Shall we dance?"

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

Chaceledon relaxed a bit, kicking off his shoes. Many of the younger dragons were barefoot, letting the music ripple through the sand under their feet and up their legs. He wasn’t surprised to see a few couples nestled into the dunes, taking full advantage of the music. Rheinhard looked supremely uncomfortable, but he had his head down and was treating it like any other endeavor; muscling through and learning from it.

“No. I am going to attempt to find this Dahn. There must be some younger family member here.” Rheinhard told her over the din. Without a word he released her hand and vanished into the mass of bodies.

Chaceledon took up her hand and kissed it, grinning. “He’s more at ease with a task anyway!” he told her, and nodded to the dragons around them. He mimicked them, swaying back and forth to the beat. He loosely wrapped an arm around Seteta’s waist. He wanted her to feel it. The way the different dragons layered the music with one another like a chef making different parts of a dish. They used sand, wind, crystals they’d brought with them to speak the magic.

A few dragons looked to be up to some mischief. Clouds gathered around the koi illusion, battered back and forth by the impressive shining tail. Chaceledon felt a few drops in his hair, then on his skin. He looked up, and licked some of it off his lips. Pink Slipper was raining from the sky. Some dragon gifted in water magic had thinned it, and caused rain! Chaceledon laughed as their clothes quickly became soaked. The sand beneath them rippled with thunderous magic, intoxicating those around them.

Seteta

 

[Seteta]

Seteta frowned slightly as Rheinhard disappeared into the crowd, but it quickly faded into a smile as Chaceledon's lips pressed against the back of her hand.

"Will he be all right? Since he's human?" She hollered over the music as she followed Chaceledon's lead and kicked her sandals off as well, catching them up and looping her fingers through the straps. His arm settled around her waist as he swayed to the music.

She was too short to drape an arm over his shoulder or around his neck, so Seteta gently rested her hands on Chaceledon's hips, smiling up at him from time to time. The sand beneath her feet was teeming with magic and music, and she reached out to touch it, letting it flow over and through her, moving along with it effortlessly. But for all her appearance of carefree dance, she took in every sound, every vibration of magic and music through the earth, and studied how it was done.

When wetness started falling from the sky, it startled her. There'd not been any storm clouds when they flew here, but then a drop fell between her lips, and she recognized the taste. She couldn't help but snort a laugh, then reach up and gently tug Chaceledon down.

"I assume the Pink Slipper would be highly inappropriate for a nameday dance?"

As the 'rain' continued to fall, she kept her head ducked down. The small bit of the drug that had landed on her tongue was not enough to affect her like the amount she'd shared with Chaceledon in the pet house those many weeks ago, but she didn't want to lose control of her senses here.

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

Chaceledon nodded. “If I trust Rheinhard to do anything, it’s be on his own! The fun part will be him convincing a young dragon to do business at a party!” He called over the din. Rheinhard wasn’t the most subtle creature on earth. Dragons thrived off of rumor, both carefully constructed about themselves and the people around them. With the pulsating music, people dancing and taking the magic in the earth around them, and the Pink Slipper raining down from flicks of the koi’s tail…he imagined Rheinhard was going to have difficulty.

Chaceledon danced with her, his arm loosely around her. He buried his toes in the sand, feeling the streams of magic intertwining and separating from the musicians. This was a unique form of art to dragons. No creature on Arethil was arrogant to use deep, abiding magic as cheap party tricks. Very few but Seteta would recognize it for what it was; a complex art form requiring the artists be in tune with one another and their instruments.

He laughed and leaned his head back, opening his mouth to take in a few drops of the drug. “Very inappropriate!” he answered, and threw himself into the dance. He was lost in something he hadn’t had for centuries. It was a new form of it to be sure, and very different from the songs of his youth, but that was what was so intoxicating.

The storm ended as soon as it started, and the music faded from under their feet. The musicians stood still for a moment, preventing themselves from injury. That had been a lot of magic excision, and they needed a few moments to let their bodies catch up. Chaceledon recovered a bit quicker than the younglings around him.

“What’s an Abtati doing at a dragon party?” A young dragon asked Seteta. She was dressed much like Seteta herself, though she’d slit her abaya up the sides enough to be scandalous, and knotted the fabric to show off her body. “Was it the music?”

Seteta

 

[Seteta]

Seteta smiled and nodded at Chaceledon's reassurance that Rheinhard would be fine, but kept her awareness open to the Well's bond just in case any issues arose.

As she danced with Chaceledon, even as she studied the music--the magical art behind it, similar in a lot of ways to the performances she'd put on with other Abtati illusionists--she couldn't help but smile up at him. Savor the moment here with him. He was back home, with his own kind. She desperately missed her family, her dispersed tribe, but couldn't imagine how he'd lasted nearly twenty millennia without his own.

At some point, she tugged him down for a surprisingly gentle kiss, and then let herself be lost in the dance and the music as well. She couldn't completely avoid ingesting the Pink Slipper as it rained down on them, but she did her best to focus its effects on the music and the magic, rather than the heat and movement of Chaceledon's body against hers.

When the storm and the music ended, she leaned against her lover for a moment, trying not to feel bereft as the magic faded away under her feet. It was... a lot. Enthralling. Especially after having been cut off from the earth for those days in Pedeo. She was smiling when she pulled back, though, and began to look around the crowd, her fingers lacing through Chaceledon's with a quiet ease.

“What’s an Abtati doing at a dragon party?” A young dragon asked Seteta. She was dressed much like Seteta herself, though she’d slit her abaya up the sides enough to be scandalous, and knotted the fabric to show off her body. “Was it the music?”

Seteta turned toward the female dragon, smiling at the sound of her own Abtat language, her grin widening as she caught sight of the... girl.

"Sort of," Seteta answered. "I'm here to learn. I have to host a nameday dance in my challenge for his hand in marriage." She nodded back toward Chaceledon.

Then she shrugged and let her eyes dance over the dragoness' appearance. "But what's a party if you don't have some fun and make some new friends, too? My name is Seteta."

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

The dragoness laughed. “You have a challenge on your hands expelling so much magic yourself! At least our mages have help! Good luck to you, little elf.” she laughed, and rushed away to speak with the musicians. They looked quite tired, and Chaceledon frowned. His father hadn’t specified whether she was the only band member or not, but it would add an almost impossible layer to the challenge. He glanced at Seteta worriedly.

Chaceledon tried to shake off his concern as the party continued. He brought her fried rice balls on sticks for a snack, as eating that sort of thing was as rebellious as the waste in magic. Eating, sex, enjoying oneself and dressing comfortably…all very against dragon norms. Chaceledon danced another set with her, pulling her close as the illusions of coyotes howling in the dunes danced around them.

They found Rheinhard after the next song, quite thoroughly frustrated. The dragons had been playing keep away with the name, and when that had grown boring had devolved into poking the bear. Chaceledon flew them home, a little worse for wear. At least Seteta understood what would be required of her. Ingenuity, complex layers of music and illusion and light. Chaceledon hoped to the gods she could pull it off. It was exhausting for one dragon let alone a single Inizae.

 

[Seteta]

Seteta's eyes grew somber at the dragoness' response, though her smile remained bright and sincere, and she gave a friendly wave as the female sauntered away.

It was true. To put on a performance of this caliber and length, by herself... it would be difficult. If she were to rely heavily on her illusion magic, especially, it would be a strain. She would need to begin accruing her pain toll early, and even then she would be in an immense amount of pain afterward. After the performance in Maraan had been intense, but it was far from the worst it could get. It would be mitigated somewhat if she could get help from even one or two of her tribe, but Hokkaido had not said anything about what type of aid she was allowed, and those clarifications would have to wait until he returned with Peridot.

She caught Chaceledon's concerned glance she turned her attention back to him, but just gave his hand a gentle squeeze, and then distracted him with the party once more. She happily ate whatever he brought her, and made sure that he ate at least a few bites as well. She savored the moments of closeness as they danced, but was relieved when Chaceledon tugged her off the dance floor before it was terribly late.

It was easy to find Rheinhard in the crowd through the bond, and she could feel his frustration at the verbal games the dragons had been playing with him.

She was quiet on the flight back to the estate, her thoughts busy and just a little scattered. She didn't doubt her ability to put on an impressive show, but she wasn't certain that anything--no matter how impressive--would satisfy Hokkaido.

When they returned, Seteta quietly bid Rheinhard goodnight, then led Chaceledon back to their bedroom. Once their makeup was cleaned off, and they were cuddled together in bed, she finally spoke.

"Tonight and tomorrow," she said quietly. "I will take tonight and tomorrow to rest, and to spend time with you. That will be my birthday present for myself. And then I will need to focus on preparing for the nameday dance, and for meeting your mother, and getting you ready to meet my family."

She would need to learn as much draconian as she could, in that time, as well. At least she had 3 months, and not 3 weeks.

Seteta sighed, and nuzzled into Chaceledon's chest. "There is a formal betrothal process among the Inizae," she said. "It will probably have to wait until after the nameday dance, because it requires some amount of cooperation from all the families."

If... the worst happened, though, and Chaceledon was made hedahn then there was an option for the betrothal ceremony when one of the parties was orphaned. But there was no need to delve into that yet.

She stretched up and kissed him quickly, then settled back in his arms. "It's okay if you don't have a birthday gift for me tomorrow," she murmured, her voice drowsy. "I'm looking forward to just being with you. We don't have anyone chasing after us or expecting anything imminent from us for the first time. Let's just enjoy that."

In the morning, she would awaken with the first light of dawn and have breakfast brought up from the kitchen for them to share, and then she would crawl back into bed and awaken Chaceledon with soft whispers in his ear, telling him exactly how she wanted to spend the next several hours with him.

---

Seteta nuzzled her face into Chaceledon's scales for a moment. And then she swore softly.

"Rheinhard said someone was here, a bit ago," Seteta groaned. "I don't know who."

Someone’s here? Who?

Chaceledon lifted his head, and his small ears flicked forward. He could hear noises in the bedroom, a storm of furniture moving and rearranging. The door to the playroom creaked open, and a stern looking figure stepped through the door. He was an absolutely beautiful specimen of an elf, until one looked at his eyes and realized they held very little in the way of empathy. Flawless skin, flawless long black hair, every stitch of complex clothing in place.

The dragon froze like he’d been shot. Artis..?

“You haven’t changed a bit.” The elf sneered. “Clean yourself up and take your filth with you. We’re claiming this as a closet.” He turned on his heel just as Rheinhard opened the other door, robes in hand, likely trying to circumvent what had just happened. The elf looked him up and down. “Getting slow in your old age, or did you forget where the linens were?”

Volker didn’t have time to retort. Artis was already back through the door and into Chaceledon’s bedroom.

Volker offered Seteta a robe, averting his eyes. “Who was that?”

My mother’s hand maid, Artis..

"Artis?" She murmured as she wrapped the robe around her. "Seems to be a… most pleasant fellow."


Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

Chaceledon accepted a robe from Volker and helped Seteta to go sit on the bed. She was going to be a bit wobbly. Rheinhard looked embarassed beyond belief; Chaceledon had never seen him so scarlet. Well, understandable considering some of the puddles in the room.

“I drew you a bath before they intruded, but they emptied it and began scrubbing it as though it had a layer of grime. You can have mine.” Rheinhard muttered, gesturing to the door. Chaceledon went to gather up Seteta, and almost fell over.

Rheinhard grimaced, and picked her up for him. He was still red as a cherry, avoiding her eyes as he carried her downstairs. Past a gathering of chaos. The servants had arrived a little bit ago, but Peridot had brought her personal attendants who had deemed the house the filthiest thing with four walls. Their abode was being scrubbed, scraped, washed, dried, raked, weeded and repaired by a small army. Walls were being painted, paintings removed and replaced.

Chaceledon didn’t bat an eyelash. “When the queen of a Dahn arrives, you redecorate.” he muttered, following closely behind Rheinhard.

Rheinhard, it seemed, had been booted out of his rooms for Artis and had set up in the basement behind the wine racks. Chaceledon glared at the older blankets, the old pillow, the tin bathtub. “I would put a dog down here!” he exclaimed in disgust.

“I think that was the point.” Volker said softly, taking Seteta’s robe and holding it open to keep her from view while she got into the steaming tub.

Seteta

 

[Seteta]

Seteta pouted slightly at the thought of not getting to lounge in that gorgeous amethyst tub, but didn't say anything on the matter. When Chaceledon leaned over to try and pick her up, she made a small noise of consternation, relieved that he failed at the attempt early into it. She had no desire to be dropped on the floor.

She almost, almost started to insist that she could walk, but her legs were still trembling and she knew that if she tried, she would end up on the floor either way.

"Thank you," she said to Rheinhard as he scooped her up, but didn't press for any conversation or comment on the way he avoided her gaze. She was practically his step-parent now and there were some types of embarrassment that were just... unavoidable.

When they exited the playroom, the house was... noisy. She goggled at the servants and pets as she was marched past in Rheinhard's arms, only grunting slightly at Chaceledon's explanation. It was somewhat ridiculous, she thought, but she was so high on sex right now that she really didn't care to ponder it further.

"If they do anything to my birthday present," Seteta whisper hushedly to Chaceledon, remembering that it was lying somewhere in the playroom that was being re-purposed as Peridot's closet, apparently, "I will murder them all."

When Rheinhard brought them to his new... quarters, though, she hissed through gritted teeth, "I might murder them all anyway."

She gratefully sank into the warm tub, though, even though she wished it was the crystalline one. The earth magic in that one would have helped to settle her mind and body a little further. The experience with Chaceledon over that morning had been wonderful, but intense.

"Even if redecorating is customary," she asked, "how is kicking people out of their rooms considered good manners in any regard?"

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

“I’m a human.” Rheinhard said as he folded her robe for her. “Not a person, by draconian standards. I may well have been an escaped goat sleeping on the rug.”

Chaceledon made a small, frustrated noise. “If they touch the gift we set up for you…”

“They won’t. I said I was doing it for the master of the house and they cleared off.” Rheinhard offered Seteta some simple tallow soap, the type one would use for dishes. Chaceledon batted it out of his hand with a disgusted squeal.

“It’s all they gave me. They’ve taken over your bathroom.” Rheinhard said sharply, picking up the soap bar and giving it to Seteta. “It’s still soap, it works just fine.”

Chaceledon begrudgingly used the tub after Seteta, and sent Rheinhard up for clean clothing for himself and Seteta. Peridot, apparently, was taking his room. Artis was taking Rheinhard’s, and Chaceledon had been given another suite. Their house pet was in the process of turning that suite down when Chaceledon, Rheinhard and Seteta arrived to get dressed.

“I’m sorry asaya, asayi.” She bowed. “Please get dressed. There is still the gift outside.”

A simple white abaya had been set aside for Seteta. It was beautifully cut for her, and fit like a glove. She could move and run comfortably, and it breathed in the desert sun. Chaceledon had embroidered it tastefully in desert succulents, all in an off white color that barely showed.

“Not really the way I wanted your second gift to go.” Chaceledon smiled crookedly as he put on a matching thobe.

 

[Seteta]

"Abtati aren't much better in their eyes," Seteta murmured. "But that doesn't mean it's right."

She snorted a little at the scuffle over the soap, finally taking it from Rheinhard gratefully. "I could just not use soap at all," she said with a devious grin at Chaceledon as she lathered it over her skin, careful to keep below the water out of respect for Rheinhard.

When Chaceledon had bathed, and they'd been directed to their reassigned suite, Seteta shook her head and gave the house pet a gentle pat on the shoulder. "You're not to blame," she said. "No apologies necessary. Will you make sure Hassani doesn't get lost in the shuffle?"

When the abaya was presented to her, though, Seteta gave a delighted gasp, running her hands over the fabric and marveling at the embroidery before she slipped it over her head to check the fit. Not that the fit needed checking. It was Chaceledon's work, after all.

“Not really the way I wanted your second gift to go.” Chaceledon smiled crookedly as he put on a matching thobe.

"It's perfect," she smiled, grinning at his matching thobe. "I love it. And I love you."

She crossed over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head against his chest.

"Thank you," she whispered. "What else is there? The pet said something about outside."

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

The pet bowed, acknowledging she would keep track of Hassani, and scurried away. Chaceledon smoothed down his clothing, looking over at Seteta and offering his arm. “Of course. We don’t know any Abtati birthday traditions so we just combined draconian and human. New clothing and sex are fairly normal on a birthday morning, to make you feel beautiful and desired.” Chaceledon smiled and kissed her cheek.

Outside, in one of the sandy gardens, Rheinhard had set up a sitting area. White linen sheets protected them from the sun, and he’d arranged cushions and mats for sitting. A low table had some tea, and a cake under a glass cloche waited for them. It looked rather poorly, but neither Rheinhard or Chaceledon were cake decorators. Chaceledon helped her sit at the table, and poured her some tea.

“Your gift first.” Chaceledon smiled at Rheinhard.

Rheinhard settled by her and set a knife in front of her. It had the lizard of her tribe along the handle, carved in ivory. The blade itself was meteorite, a rare and tough metal that would serve her well. As she held it, it sang slightly in her hand. “We made it. Kaska’s forging skills, Huron’s carving, and Nestor made sure the enchantment held. I made sure the blade fit your size and your hand.” Volker told her quietly. “It should sing when water is nearby.”

He picked up his teacup to show her. The closer he brought it, the louder the blade thrummed.

“And mine!” Chaceledon set down a simple sandstone box. It had two tabs that had to be flipped up and out to open it, and inside was a bracelet made of stone beads. The beads were carefully, intricately carved flowers.

 

[Seteta]

Seteta grinned as Chaceledon kissed her cheek, shivering slightly at the memories of that morning, her soul sated and body aching pleasantly. "Oh, I feel very, very desired," she purred.

She was led out to the gardens, and found herself charmed at the sight of the temporary seating area. The linen shades reminded her of the ones used outside of the oases, the cushions and mats spread on the ground making her just very briefly homesick. Chairs and stools were a luxury among the nomadic Abtati. They were difficult to transport.

There was some sort of treat, it seemed, tucked under a glass dome, and Seteta eyed it curiously as she was seated at the table and Chaceledon poured her tea. She'd never seen anything like it, round and covered in something fluffy and creamy!

Her heart was nearly bursting with joy as Chaceledon and Rheinhard settled on each side of her. Last autumn... if someone had told her, as she was heading toward the Elbion portal stone, that she would be back in the desert mere weeks later, but with a mate and a son at her side... she didn't know if she would have believed it was even possible.

Thank you, she offered up a silent prayer to Abtatu. Oh, thank you.

As Rheinhard set the knife in front of her, Seteta reached out and traced the carving on the handle as he told her about how they'd crafted the knife. She tucked away one of the names he mentioned--Kaska--because while she was certain that the Volkers all knew who she was after the incident in Vel Anir, she hadn't actually met him yet.

She picked up the knife, testing the weight of it, and grinned at Rheinhard as it settled in her hand, perfectly fitted for her. The quiet hum it emitted was not jarring, and when he showed her how it reacted to proximity with water, she laughed with delight.

"It's amazing," she said, setting the knife back on the table before leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you."

“And mine!” Chaceledon set down a simple sandstone box. It had two tabs that had to be flipped up and out to open it, and inside was a bracelet made of stone beads. The beads were carefully, intricately carved flowers.

As he showed her how to open the box, Seteta almost bounced eagerly in her seat, but bit back a groan as her muscles greatly protested that consideration. When she flipped the lid open, and spotted the stone bracelet inside, she fell quiet for a moment.

She pulled it out, her fingers running over the delicate, intricately carved beads. "You made this?" she murmured quietly. "Tell me about the flowers. What kind are they? Why did you pick them?"

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

Rheinhard looked a bit startled by the kiss, and Chaceledon hid a smile. It said a lot about the man that he hadn’t immediately snapped at her. Rheinhard was intensely protective of his private space, and even Seteta was usually loath to breach it. A little surprised exhale through his nose was the worst she got. Chaceledon was proud of him, before once again being distracted by jewelry.

“Ah, so cactus flowers in the deep desert usually only bloom for a night, and very rarely. I found a book of them I used for an exhibition…oh, ages ago. I thought an equally rare beauty would appreciate them as much as I do.” Chaceledon smiled.

Volker set three plates in front of them, and pulled the cake over. It had a myriad of candles imbedded in the top, and he struck a match to light them.

“I thought it would be indelicate to put all of them on there, so we divided by ten.” Chaceledon said playfully.

“It’s a human tradition. You blow out the candles after saying a wish.” Volker told her.

“Please excuse the ugliness. I wanted to try piping but your adoptive son here is painfully pragmatic.”

“It wastes a lot of food making frilly decor.” Volker groused.

 

[Seteta]

"It's absolutely lovely," Seteta smiled, slipping it onto her wrist. Rare beauty. Seteta had never been insecure about her looks, but Chaceledon was so beautiful himself... and he'd seen so much, more than she could ever hope to. That he thought she was beautiful... she looked over at him, returning his smile with gleaming eyes. "It's perfect, sehejib. Thank you."

As the cake was pulled over and uncovered, the strangely tiny candles embedded on the top made her tilt her head curiously as Rheinhard lit them.

“I thought it would be indelicate to put all of them on there, so we divided by ten.” Chaceledon said playfully.

Seteta arched a brow, but bit her lip nervously as she counted the candles quickly. A dozen. Divided by ten so... he thought she was at least a hundred years old. She laughed weakly, nodding absentmindedly as Volker explained the human tradition of wishing and blowing out the candles.

"I'm gonna tell him," she whispered out the side of her mouth to Rheinhard as the two males argued about the... frosting. "The shock won't kill him, right?"

Gods, this could be a mess. When he'd lived in Amol-Kalit, all those millennia ago... the Abtati were long lived, nearly as much as any of the other elves in the world. But times had changed. The desert was harsher. And even if her family didn't mention her age, by some miracle, at some point someone would mention that the oldest in their tribe was only 274 years old.

First, though, the candles. Which were starting to become frighteningly short and dripped wax onto the cake.

"I wish..." she paused for a moment. She had so many good things in her life right now. What more could she want? "I wish... that my challenge for Chaceledon's hand will go well, and that Hokkaido and Peridot will ultimately accept me for who I am and how much I love their son, regardless of anything else."

Then she took a deep breath and blew out all the candles, before turning back to Chaceledon.

"I'm... ah, hoping that you don't think I've been lying to you, but it... didn't seem important before," she said, her hands dropping into her lap as she nervously picked at her nails. "But... I'm onlyturningforty-eight."

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

Rheinhard eyed Chaceledon. Well, now or never. He always advocated for honesty if at all possible. He waited until she blew out her candles, and plucked them from the cake. Chaceledon cheekily took one and licked the frosting off the end. She had made a good wish. Her next words, however, sharply sucked the candle in with the sharpest intake of breath he’d ever taken. He coughed, and Rheinhard reached over to pat his back.

Chaceledon turned his head to the side and coughed a small, choking amount of purple sparks. He spat out a bit of molten wax, and the remainder of the wick. “I’m sorry darling, I think you meant forty-eight hundred. That’s young but it’s really nothing to be ashamed o-“ he caught Rheinhard’s small, nigh imperceptible shake of the head. “…only four eighty?” Another shake.

“You’re twenty years younger than Rheinhard?!”

“Twelve years.” Rheinhard corrected.

“I’m a fashion icon, not a mathematician.” Chaceledon snapped at him. He stared at Seteta. She was a child! He’d taken advantage of a child! Ye gods she could be a Volker at her age! What they’d done this morning he’d done to a creature who would have been barely out of her first moult in dragon years!

“Stop it. You know mammals age differently. Abtati elves only live to around three hundred or so.” Rheinhard told him sternly, trying to prevent a panic.

 

[Seteta]

Seteta grimaced as Chaceledon inhaled the candle, was nearly to her feet to help him if he started choking, but he spat it out as molten wax a moment later, and she sat back down, silent as he... slowly came to the realization.

She fought the urge to flinch away when Chaceledon turned and stared at her. She... wasn't quite sure what to make of his expression.

As Rheinhard scolded him, Seteta reached over and gently squeezed the man's wrist. It's all right, she sent over the bond as she took a deep breath. I need to handle this.

"Sehejib," she said softly, "If my actual age was such a concern, then you should have asked what it was after I kissed you for the first time. By my people's customs and reckoning, I am an adult, and I have been for quite some time."

He had, technically, inquired once. While they played parlor games with his sister in Pedeo. But that had not been the proper time for this discussion, especially if this was how he was reacting.

"Rheinhard is right, though," she continued. "Abtati usually only live a few centuries. The desert is harsh. And the Inizae... well, it is often not so long, for us.

"And in that case... isn't it better than I'm only 48? Because then we might have two hundred more years together... maybe even three hundred, if things go well."

She glanced down, her voice wavering a little as her throat tightened. "If we had only met when I was 200 years older... had fallen in love then... we would only have decades together."

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

Chaceledon looked down and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked over at Rheinhard. “You knew about this?” he asked.

“Because I don’t get hysterical.” Rheinhard growled. “Stop being childish! You’re both adults. Be glad you’re afforded the luxury of time that some of us don’t have.”

Chaceledon had the brains to look chastened. Rheinhard had clearly guarded her secret well and she’d been afraid to tell him because of…well. This. He reached out for her hand and held hers in his. She looked about ready to cry, and yet still made a good point. If she were older he wouldn’t have the time with her that he did. He kissed her fingers. “I’m sorry, koiros. I was just caught by surprise.” he said. “Maybe I should be grateful, being such an old man, to have caught you.”

“As well you should.” Rheinhard said coldly. “I didn’t expect you to snort a candle like a fool. Are you alright?”

 

[Seteta]

"He hasn't known long," Seteta reassured her lover. "Only since I took over the Well."

She heard the heartache in Rheinhard's voice, though. Knew that the man, though incredibly happy for Chaceledon, yearned for his own mate, and he was not young anymore. But that was a kind of heartache that was not easily soothed.

And Chaceledon, at least, seemed to take both of their words to heart, despite his shock. When he reached for her hand and kissed her fingers, relief washed through her.

“I’m sorry, koiros. I was just caught by surprise.” he said. “Maybe I should be grateful, being such an old man, to have caught you.”

“As well you should.” Rheinhard said coldly. “I didn’t expect you to snort a candle like a fool. Are you alright?”

"You should be grateful to have caught me at all, regardless of your age," she teased gently, letting the somberness of the prior moments ebb away, then eyed her lover as Rheinhard mentioned the candle.

"Are you okay?" she asked as well, then bit her lip with a giggle. "That is certainly going to be quite the story for our children one day."

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

Rheinhard dished up the cake. It was almond, light and fluffy with cream cheese frosting. Chaceledon only took a razor slice, and Rheinhard took a modest one for himself. Seteta was given the most generous slice. Rheinhard didnt indulge in sweets often…or ever. He ate slowly and savored the candied nuts, fluffy spiced cake, and sweetness of the frosting. Chaceledon smiled and cuddled close to Seteta. Despite the chaos of the house, the rest of the day was spent amicably.

Over the next few days Nestor drilled her relentlessly on her draconian. She had to get everything right culturally as well as verbally. She’d have to perform the bow; this was a dahna she was greeting. She would have to be culturally restrained, graceful, and poised. Most importantly, silent.

“You want to show a mastery of dragon culture.” Nestor told her. “This isn’t about your opinions of his culture, or what you think of Peridot. A dahnesh is the head of a dahn, but his dahna is the neck. She turns the head any way she desires. You have got to impress her. Both of you.” He gestured between Volker and Seteta. “No bullshit, none of this ‘oh I’m an intelligent elf who walks her own path with the wind in my hair and a dead animal on my horse’, no ‘I’m a renowned assassin’, none of that. None of it matters.”

Rheinhard sighed. “That. That right there. Stop it.” Nestor growled at him, pointing an accusatory finger. “Now. Rheinhard. Three colors forbidden to you on this visit.”

“White, purple, green, and blue. Those look most like the colors of the dahn which I haven’t earned.” Rheinhard replied.

“Seteta. Give me a bow.” Nestor barked the order.

 

[Seteta]

The cake was delightful, and Seteta happily polished it off for breakfast the next few days, before hours spent in the Well being schooled by Nestor. She listened closely to his instructions, but he was so... dry. And she took it as her personal responsibility to inject some levity in the lessons.

It wasn't hard when Nestor would toss out idioms that made no sense to her. Her brow wrinkled at the most current one as she silently and confusedly mouthed the phrase and a dead animal on my horse. What, exactly, did he mean by that? The Inizae didn't ride horses. Why would she be carrying a dead animal around, anyway?

Fortunately, Rheinhard had audibly sighed, so she wasn't scolded for sassing.

As he answered Nestor's question, though, Seteta couldn't help but comment. "That was four colors," she whispered cheekily as Nestor barked an order at her.

Ugh, a bow. The bows were the worst, simply because there was no margin for error. She was fit enough that they weren't much of a physical challenge, though, and fortunately the soreness from her and Chaceledon's... rather wild birthday morning was abating.

She took a breath and gracefully lifted her hands to her forehead, thumbs and fingertips lightly kissing each other. Then she gently bent her knees, lowering to the floor as she leaned forward until her hands touched the ground. She carefully folded her legs under her and stretched out her arms, keeping her belly relaxed but active, and her spine straight.

Hopefully Nestor wouldn't make her stay like this for an hour.

Chaceledon