Private Tales Of Sand & Dragonfire

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Seikilos looked Seteta in the eyes. “Bend over backwards? My dear, you don’t even know the half of it. We are not an easy culture to get along with and there is a reason we have largely chosen to isolate ourselves. Harrier will likely not have a problem with you using your family members but it will complicate matters. You’ll all need to dress and act appropriately. “ she said sternly. “If you want to do your mate honor, you’ll need patience. Hokkaido is going off your ignorance and this sort of temper. He’s cruel but no one ever accused him of stupidity.”

She settled her hands in her lap, straightening as her own words were thrown back at her. Sometimes, she damned Saltarello for throwing in his lot with the Inizae. Other times…she thought him brilliant to ally with such a strong people. Seteta clearly didn’t have any issue calling her out. “So I do.” She acknowledged. “Have you explained the dangers of attending? Do you have a number of…how many of these people are coming with you? Harrier will at least need notice.”

“Considering I showed up to my last Nameday with six men and Nica…I don’t think anyone will have a problem with it. We’ll just have to keep the other dragons from mistaking them for servants.” Chaceledon said sheepishly. He wasn’t about to pretend like the Inizae would be treated equally. If left to their own devices they’d be bullied by staff into waitressing. It would be an alarming disrespect, but not one entirely out of character given draconian culture. “I can help teach them how to behave?” He offered.

“I can get them at least conversational. From the sound of it they need, at the bare minimum, how to say ‘no thank you.’” Nestor piped up. “Chaceledon can take care of walking and how they’re dressed. You, Seteta, can focus on artistic concept and getting stronger.”

Chaceledon looked at his plate guiltily. “I’m sorry for putting you through this.” He admitted.

“As though you’re the first young couple to be afraid of a marriage challenge.” Seikilos shook her head. “These are meant to be difficult. I have every faith we will pull through it.”
 
Seteta's mouth tightened for a moment as Seikilos spoke, but she didn't argue. She hadn't meant to be as forceful as she was with her words, but the urge to make her place known and recognized had been... forceful. A remnant of Nailah's personality, perhaps?

"I haven't been able to explain much to them yet at all," Seteta said. "Other than that I needed help with a performance. As for how many..."

Seteta looked up and down the table, picking out the illusionists she knew worked well with herself and with each other.

Her father. Supti. Nebit, if she was up for it at her age. Anai. Baul, Thema, and Tuaa. Maanai. Sakhon. Ludim and Souphis.

Keket was... not gifted enough with illusions, and she worried that the dragons would treat her especially cruelly. Hassani... he had little skill with magic at all yet, and she didn't know if she trusted him to keep his head for something like this.

"Maybe a dozen, besides myself?" she answered. "Not all of them might be able to come, depending on their families. Some have young children."

She gave Chaceledon a grateful smile at his offer, and nodded when Nestor made his suggestions.

"They need to be prepared for what dragons are truly like," she agreed softly, and then bowed her head to Seikilos. "I am grateful for your help, truly. It will not be forgotten, even if I fail."
 
Nestor eyed the groups down the table. “The more preparation I have, the better.” He sniffed, and poured himself a glass of wine. Chaceledon blinked at him. Wine? They were forbidden alcohol! The look in Rheinhard’s stolen eyes told him that Nestor was absolutely ready to make a scene if he didn’t get the wine, however, and Chaceledon let it go with a sigh. It wasn’t as though Nestor was Aaron; he wouldn’t drink himself incoherent.

“I suggest we gather the people you’d like to come, and explain things after dinner.” Chaceledon suggested. Part of him was grateful she hadn’t chosen Keket. Keket was sweet, but her figure would be viciously scrutinized by people who wouldn’t see her as a person. His own mother would be ruthless; Carnelia was built a lot like Keket was. He ate slowly, delicately, but he did have the wherewithal to clean his plate.

“Regardless of what happens the Inizae will always be welcome in my home. However if Chaceledon becomes hedahn, I’ll have to bar him from the premises. You understand.” Seikilos told her, not unkindly.
 
"I'll let them know after dinner," Seteta said, picking up her chopsticks and starting to eat again. "But... anything else may have to wait till morning. I'm feeling very tired again. They'll have children to tend to as well, and have all been up since yesterday evening, most likely. We could all do with a good night's sleep."

This was the aggravating part of healing. Feeling better... but only for a little while before the weariness would hit again and her mind didn't feel quite like her own.

She had to keep reminding herself that she was improving. She was alert more and more each day, and could walk longer each time she did so.

She smiled when Chaceledon finished his food, long before she did her own, and that was... rather disconcerting.

When Seikilos spoke, Seteta nodded understandingly.

"I hope one day you dragons can leave this hedahn issue in the past," she spoke quietly, "it will only weaken you further. But I understand your need to cooperate right now. They are still your livelihood."
 
The rest of the dinner went by quietly. Nestor was content as a cat; he hadn’t eaten a full meal in years and was nursing the glass of wine with a happy look on his face. This was what he’d intended when he’d agreed to take the Well. He was a teacher at heart, and Seteta actually valued his intelligence. Chaceledon hid a smile; Nestor radiated smugness.

Nestor also didn’t mind putting up residence in the garden for the evening. He accepted a small tent from Seikilos, and settled on his bedroll with a sigh. He’d have to relinquish control in a few hours…but for right now? He pulled on the bond, using the Well to siphon off a little of Ausar’s power for himself. Illusion slid over him like a glove, showing what he looked like in life. Nestor smiled at the sight of his familiar hands, his shapely legs. He did miss his muzzle…it felt odd to be sleeping without its pressure on his nose and cheeks.

After dinner the servants cleaned off the table, and went to draw baths for the dragons and Inizae. Chaceledon bundled Seteta off to their room; he was beginning to learn when her strength was waning and start planning accordingly. He turned down their bed, and prepared a few hair brushes.

“We’ve got to start taming that mane of yours. Hair is quite important to us culturally.” Chaceledon told her, and gestured for her to sit on the bed so he could properly brush and oil her hair and his. He looked over the bottles he’d assembled; some rose and almond oil for fats, then some sweet rosewater to add a little humidity, a beeswax cloth wrap for her hair so it could moisturize while they slept, some cuticle oil, his glass emery board, clippers, lotion for her feet and hands, another lotion for her body. Hair pluckers to get those eyebrows under control.

For himself he’d asked Seikilos for a binder. The whalebone and silk construction would put pressure around his torso and waist, forcing it into a more pleasing shape and encouraging good posture while he slept. Gods forbid he go to this Nameday slouching.

“Just a short nighttime routine.” He said, waving his hand dismissively. “Come sit.”
 
Mesi only spoke a few words here and there with Nebit, preferring mostly to watch the interactions around them. Thankfully, most of the conversations took place in the common tongue. She was a little surprised when the Volker took no notice of her after their past interactions, but soon witnessed first hand some of the culture clash he'd warned about between Seteta and Chaceledon.

"I'm certain you'll be one she chooses to attend," Mesi said quietly to Nebit, taking advantage of the bounty of food for a third helping. "You, Supti, her father, and herself are the strongest earth mages in the desert. I'm skilled but not... that skilled, and my illusions are not as strong as they used to be."

"It will be... interesting, certainly," Nebit murmured, setting her own chopsticks down. "They seem to be a haughty species."

"Seteta will be an equal match for them," Mesi snorted. "But the real question is whether one or the other will come out the victor, or if they'll both break each other's heads in the process."


"My hair is fine, sehejib," Seteta whined when they were finally back downstairs. "Especially for tonight."

Gods, she was tired. She felt like she could sleep for a week after the excitement dinner had been. Sitting in that dining hall had... brought up so many strange feelings. She needed to sleep and sort them out.

In the morning, she needed to see Nestor, too. Or at least Rheinhard. They'd spoken of... exercises, to help with the memories. It was time for those.

She glared at him as he gathered all those... bottles and tools, and rather than sitting on the bed, she stripped off her gown, carefully lifted the hair adornments off her head--though she scowled as a couple of them caught--and then crawled into the bed, buried her face in the pillow, and pulled the covers up over her.

"Beautify yourself," she mumbled into the pillow. "I'm perfect the way I am."

Then there was a knock at the door, and Seteta groaned.

"What now?"

The door creaked open, and Seteta peeked out from the bed to spot the healer. She pouted. The healer snorted.

"I understand you're my newest patient, Seteta," the healer said with an arched brow, looking over at Chaceledon for a moment. "I should also check that your lover's foot and nose have healed."


Ausar was just settling into the bath with Rehema, his lips teasing down the back of her neck, when he felt Nestor tug at the bond, but not for his attention. He flinched and growled, pulling away from Rehema briefly.

"What's wrong?" she asked, twisting around to face him.

"Nothing, meruv," he said, leaning in to kiss her forehead. "Just something with the Well. It will wait."

Sweat had broken out across his brow, and Rehema reached up to wipe it away, frowning as she realized he had gone pale. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Ausar nodded. He closed his eyes for a moment, reaching back through the bond and yanking Nestor out of Rheinhard's body and pushing him back into the Well with no gentleness.

Your choice, he snarled to Nestor. You can wait on your pedestal, or strip naked and wait for me--kneeling at the door--in the sunroom, no matter who might be there. Regardless, you will accept your punishment. But you will have to choose how harsh it will be based on your choice.

Nestor liked to go on about how smart he was. Then he would let the man decide--figure out--if he would rather keep his privacy and be dealt with more harshly, or be vulnerable and have a gentle hand.

Ausar pulled away from the bond then, and leaned against Rehema's shoulder, breathing in her scent to ground himself. Her fingers combed through his hair, and when he pulled away his breath was calmer even though his face was pale.

"I'm sorry we were interrupted," Ausar whispered, kissing her shoulder, his hands gently sliding down her body beneath the water.

She sighed at his touch. "It's not your fault. It's not like we can do much right now anyway."

"No, but I still want to spend time with my wife," he murmured, fingers tickling up her sternum and her neck until he tipped her chin up to softly kiss her.

A while later, after he tucked her into bed and sang her to sleep, Ausar moved to a chair across the room, steepled his fingers beneath his chin, and closed his eyes.

Did Nestor have your permission to attend the dinner in your place? Ausar asked Rheinhard as he descended into the Well. He took a few moments in the office to compose himself, though there was a fierceness to his eyes and a set to his jaw that would make even Tianau hesitate to approach him when he stepped out and went to find Nestor.
 
Chaceledon raised an eyebrow. “Don’t be silly. This will be a routine over the next few weeks. It gets shorter with things like your nails and callouses since they don’t grow that quickly.” He pointed out, and combed her hair as she flopped on her stomach like a child. “You can sleep while I do it if you like.” He offered. He lifted his head at the knock on the door, and left her briefly to let the doctor in.

He cleared his throat and blushed, touching the healing marks on his nose. Little more than scratches but he’d been covering them with makeup. His foot ached, but he had far worse. “I’m perfectly fine, just healing.” Chaceledon dismissed. “Seteta could use a quick evaluation; she’s quite tired.”

_______________________

Nestor was pulled back from control so quickly he actually stumbled, blinking as he was pulled from the relative serenity of the tent, the scent of succulents and sand, back to the blankness of the Well. It was like shoving one’s head in a glass box. He blinked owlishly at Ausar, coloring, but the other man left before he could begin an argument.

Tianau knew better than to mock him; Ausar was truly angry. Nestor lifted his chin, and with as much dignity as he could muster walked into the sunroom. “Out.” He barked at Ferenzi.

The other didn’t look up from his book. “Whatever you two are planning to do, you can do it in the Arena. Not make this place a mess.” Ferenzi said sternly. His eyes flicked up as he turned the page. “I told you that was a step too far. Alcohol? Illusion magic? Were you trying to anger him? Oor would have put a stripe on your back.”

“Shut up.” Nestor snapped. “And get out.”

Ferenzi rolled his eyes and turned his back, shifting on the cushions so he was facing away from Nestor, eyes back on his book. “You can’t just take the room whenever you want.” He muttered. “Besides, we can’t take books out and I want to finish this.”

Nestor swore viciously in a language Ferenzi didn’t recognize, and pulled his coat off. “You did this to yourself, mind. You’ll never win against the owner of the Well; the place is designed that way.” Ferenzi sighed, and eyed the windows. It was dark outside, giving him a fairly good reflection of Nestor kneeling naked facing the door.

Rheinhard watched Ausar warily as he returned. “Yes.” He replied. “Just the dinner. Not sleeping overnight in it.” Rheinhard didn’t particularly like social affairs. It worked out for them both. He still didn’t like the look in Ausar’s eye, but he wasn’t about to lie to him. Nestor had permission to attend dinner but not loaf about for hours afterwards in the garden.
 
"Seteta will be getting a thorough exam," the healer said, glancing toward the bed. Seteta burrowed under the sheets again, hiding from them both. "Come now, it will take less time if you cooperate."

"Does it have to be tonight?" Seteta whined into the pillow. "Can't we do this in the morning?"

"I think you have a full enough schedule already in the morning, and if I can examine you now that I can tell the kitchen the foods they need to start preparing for you tomorrow."

Seteta huffed, and pushed the covers back down. The healer frowned for a moment at the sight of Seteta's naked body. She was... thin. The girl had always been slender, but this was borderline gaunt.

"Lie on your back," the healer said softly, and sat next to Seteta on the bed. "I want your pulse to calm down before I check it, and then I'll have you sit up and check it again."

The healer worked efficiently, but some things just took time. She asked about what had happened initially, and Seteta told her as briefly as possible. She checked Seteta's eyes, her lungs, her skin. Asked about any hair loss, and aches and pains. Her energy level throughout the day. Her appetite.

When she checked Seteta's resting pulse, she was satisfied, but when the girl sat up and she checked her pulse again, the healer frowned.

"I'm worried," the healer told them both at the end of the exam. "You lost more muscle mass than you should have for the short amount of time you were down, but that is likely because you couldn't eat much for several days. If you were in perfect health, I'd say you could go and do this Nameday without any concerns but... I know the toll the illusion magic will take on you.

"Right now, as you are, I cannot recommend that you start paying that pain toll ahead of time. Your body can't take it."

The healer helped Seteta lie back down. "You're going to be on six meals a day for a while," she continued. "Lots of protein, and lots of calories. You should have fruit more often than vegetables to give your body the quick energy you'll need for what you'll have to do the next few weeks. If you're dizzy at all, you're to stop what you're doing, drink a cup of salted water, and rest for half an hour. And I mean truly rest. I want you to lie down with a pillow and a blanket and close your eyes. Move around as much as you can throughout the day unless you're dizzy or actually tired. We'll do another examine in three or four days and reevaluate. No illusion magic yet, at all, no matter how little."

Seteta sighed and nodded wearily.

"Let me look at your foot now," the healer said, gesturing for Chaceledon to sit on the bed. "I saw you tensing from time to time when you put weight on it. It's bothering you still. That means it's either infected, or that blade damaged muscle more than a clean cut."
 
Chaceledon listened closely to the healer and got his own grooming out of the way. He slicked down his face with soap and water, rinsed and patted it dry. He oiled his hair generously and wrapped it in one of the beeswax wraps, following it up with a fresh towel to ensure nothing got on the pillowcases. He moisturized his face, plucked his eyebrows, groomed and oiled his nails, and slid on a sleeping gown. The binder went over the sleeping gown, and the curved whalebone forced his rib cage to curve inward slightly along his silhouette, giving the impression of femininity.

He had to wrap ribbons around hooks in the back, and tug them over his shoulders and around his ribs to yank the binder into position. It forced his chest into a pleasing shape, narrowed his waist, and made his posture perfect. He wrapped the final ribbons around his hand and tugged sharply just as the healer finished with Seteta. She was skinny, his poor precious creature. Much as he hated to say it, it would only help her with the dragons.

He huffed and extended out his injured foot. It was a bit swollen, but the infection had long since walled itself off into an abscess. “I’ve just…not wanted to look at it.” Chaceledon said defensively. “There were more important things.” He leaned over and kissed Seteta’s forehead. The abscess developing there would likely need lancing and cleaning. His foot was red, exacerbated by his extensive use of cosmetics to cover the red coloring and the creams he put on it nightly.

“Really; I’m fine.” Chaceledon urged, and combed through Seteta’s hair. “Alright love, we can skip for tonight but we need time for perfection.”
 
"Thank you, sehejib," Seteta murmured tiredly, her eyes closing as Chaceledon kissed her forehead. She tugged the blankets up around her shoulders, slipping into sleep in just a few breaths.

The healer's face softened for a moment. It was clear the dragon adored Seteta, and to some extent she couldn't fault him for forgetting to tend to his foot while she'd been... critical.

"Come sit," the healer said, her voice hushed so as not to disturb Seteta, gesturing to the far side of the bed. Her tone gave Chaceledon little option but to comply, however.

She checked Chaceledon's nose, satisfied when she saw it had healed without complications. "There's some scar tissue, but the marks will fade with time," she told him. "Another few weeks and they won't hardly be noticeable."

She knelt to examine his foot, frowning at the sight of it. She prodded at it gently for a few moments, and checked pressed a hand to his other foot to compare the temperature between the two. He ran significantly warmer than she or Seteta did, but his injured foot was  hot in comparison.

"That abscess needs to be drained," she told him as she stood. "I'd be more comfortable if a doctor more familiar with your species was to check it as well, and make sure there's no damage to the muscles."

It was extremely late by now, though, and she wouldn't be able to prepare her tools to lance it without waking a good portion of the household or the Inizae.

"Come see me first thing in the morning," she said, reaching for a leather pouch at her waist and pulling a premixed packet of herbs out. "Make a hot poultice with this and bind it to your foot overnight. The abscess might burst on its own, but if it doesn't, this will still help to start drawing out the infection and make draining it tomorrow easier."
 
Chaceledon raised an eyebrow. An abscess? He looked at his foot in concern, and took the herb packet. He sniffed them, wincing at the acrid odor. “Good gods my feet haven’t stunk like this in years. Is this really necessary?” He whispered, his face contorted in disgust. “Come to think of it I do know a healer. He’s been my doctor for…well, the past few hundred years really. I’ll see if he’s awake. I’ve not really mixed anything like this before, and Seteta needs her rest. Could you give some recommendations to the kitchen? The pets will still be up; most dragon estates have a night crew.”

Chaceledon smiled over at Seteta’s sleeping body. He’d see if they had any chocolates for her in the morning. If his sweet princess was going to get in shape for the ceremony she deserved a reward for dealing with his primping. He put on a dressing gown over the binder and his pajama robe, and eyed his slippers. Probably not the best idea. “I…Im
not sure what’s going to happen at the ceremony. But I know I’ll follow her to
the ends of the earth and back.” He told the healer, reaching over to tug the covers up around Seteta and ensure her neck rested properly on her pillows.

Chaceledon rose, and tucked the packet in his pocket. Time to find Nestor.

_________________

Rheinhard was worried. Tianau was even more so, given that Ausar had disappeared from the Well pale and withdrawn. He was making his way down to their room, his brow furrowed. There was a sense of disquiet he didn’t like. He cleared his throat and quietly opened the door to Rehema and Ausar’s room, eyeing where Ausar had curled up to go into the Well.

He approached silently, his feet placed so carefully on the floor so as not to make any noise, and touched Ausar’s shoulder. He glanced at Rehema; he didn’t want to wake her.
 
The healer arched a brow. "You can't handle a simple poultice?" she asked. "All you need to do is soak the herbs in hot water, and wrap it around your foot in layers of cloth."

She smiled and nodded. "The kitchen was going to be my next stop, now that I know more of what Seteta needs."

She wanted to speak with the lady of the house as well. Seik-los? There had been so much going on at dinner that she wasn't sure if she'd heard the name right, and she'd been further back in the caravan when the dragon had introduced herself. She knew the dragon was going to put Seteta on a harsh schedule to prepare her for the challenge, but she wanted to make sure the girl wouldn't be overworked.

"Seteta will never take your loyalty for granted," the healer told him as they stepped out of the room together. "She will follow you to the ends of the earth and back as well. So don't test her patience too much."

The healer paused for a moment to make sure the door was closed behind them, resting a hand on Chaceledon's arm. When she had his full attention, she spoke very quietly, not wanting to risk Seteta overhearing even if she were to awaken.

"I'm worried about her heart," she whispered. "The bruising on her sternum... I can tell it was a wound of magical nature, but I can't sense how deep it went. But her pulse was... concerning. Combined with the amount of muscle she lost... it's going to take months of recovery for her to get back to how she was before this. She is going to have to be very, very careful not to overexert herself, especially with this challenge."

She bit her lip, glancing back worriedly.

"You should avoid anything that raises her heart rate for an extended period of time," she said apologetically, hoping he'd understand that it meant no sex for a while. "If possible... she needs minerals. The best you can find. I know nettle tea is good for that, but nettles aren't exactly abundant in the desert."


Ausar shuddered as Rheinhard's hand landed on his shoulder. He'd come out of the Well and... hadn't dared to move. Burning pain filled his torso, from lungs to bowels, and he was definitely going to vomit. He just didn't want to wake Rehema.

"Help me out of the room," he whispered through gritted teeth, pain spasming across his face. "Get one of Supti's wives to stay in here with Rehema. She shouldn't be alone."

Ausar's hands clenched at the arms of the chairs, bracing to stand. Hopefully... they'd at least make it partway down the hall before he had to vomit.
 
Chaceledon gave her a pained look. “It stinks. I can’t touch this. My claws and hands will smell awful for days.” He couldn’t help the slight whine in his voice. He hated stinky things, much less handling them. He didn’t want his hands to smell foul. He followed the healer out of the room; Nestor wouldn’t mind the poultice and could tell him what was in it. Not that he didn’t trust the Inizae healer, but he wanted to know for future injuries.

He paused when she touched his arm, and smiled faintly. “That bruise on her chest is from the Well. When you take it, it splits the sternum and makes a scar there. If you’ve ever seen Rheinhard’s chest, that big ugly scar on his breastbone is why. I asked Oor about it once; something about living flesh getting in the way of magic.” He explained. “Seteta’s must have healed when her father took the Well.”

He chewed his lip. No sex was understandable. No heart rate spikes. Ah, his poor lusty woman. When Seteta was feeling well they could barely keep their paws off one another. That caramel skin and wild mane of dark hair was addictive. He nodded in understanding. “Dragons can source just about anything. Dahn Agrys grows a lot of produce in big hot houses. Surely they must have something with a lot of minerals.” He thought aloud as they walked down the hallway.

They were just passing Rehema and Ausar’s room when the door was pushed open. Rheinhard had Ausar’s arm over his neck and was half-walking, half-dragging him into the hallway.

“Rheinhard what on earth-!” Chaceledon rushed to support Ausar’s other side.

“Nestor pulled energy from him without asking.” Rheinhard grunted. “Get a vessel, he’s going to be sick. I need to get him outside.”

“Oh good gods… where is Nestor now?!”

“Shut in the Arena, blocked it off with poison spikes. Won’t talk to a soul. Something happened.” Rheinhard grabbed a decorative bowl off a side table in the hallway and dumped flowers and water onto the floor, thrusting it under Ausar’s chin. Hopefully it would hold if he was ill. Chaceledon rubbed Ausar’s back and looked at Rheinhard in concern.

“Nestor doesn’t shut himself away like that unless he’s had a breakthrough…did he find the way out?”

“It’s not that. Nestor and Ausar have been in some sort of…” Rheinhard shifted the man so they could go up the stairs. “Psychological warfare with one another.”

“Psychological warfare? What the devil have you been doing to my children?” Chaceledon bristled.

“Not now.” Rheinhard hauled Ausar bodily up the stairs, and out toward the garden. The man wasn’t a featherweight and weak to boot. He needed air, and water, and earth.
 
The healer snorted. "The scent will wash off. It doesn't soak in." She reached up and tapped her nose. "We're not impervious to smells either. Elves have more heightened senses."

She nodded when Chaceledon spoke of the scar on Rheinhard. "I helped treat him when you... well, you remember, I'm sure," she said. "I'll ask about nettle and some other things with... the... what is the name and title of the lady of the house? I'm sorry, I haven't quite caught it all yet."

She looked up in surprise when Ausar and Rehema's door opened, brow wrinkling for a moment trying to figure out what was happening.

Ausar was positively green, sweat heavy on his brow, and while his legs were strong enough to support him, the problem was everything between his neck and his hips was revolting against him.

He looked up at the healer as Rheinhard emptied the bowl of flowers.

"Illusion magic," he ground out through gritted teeth, then couldn't hold back the contents of his stomach any longer.

The healer's mouth tightened, and she stepped around the males to close the door behind them, glancing in at Rehema. The priestess hadn't stirred yet. Hopefully she could keep sleeping.

"Get Kahi or Anai to stay with her," Ausar mumbled, spitting into the bowl with a grimace. He jerked his head toward their room, and the healer nodded.

The cool night air kissed Ausar's face a few moments later, and he wished he could say he felt relief.

"Just put me down on the ground," he rasped to Rheinhard. "I won't be going far anytime soon."
 
“Dahna Seikilos.” Chaceledon answered the healer. “Her name is Dahna Seikilos.” He gave the healer an encouraging smile. Hopefully she would be able to find the nutrients that Seteta needed. He was planning to write Harrier directly. The dahnesh had taken a shine to her at Cassius’ household. Maybe a little request for some specialty products hurried along with some of his best wooden bangles would cut some ice with the older dragon.

Chaceledon helped Rheinhard lay Ausar on the ground in the garden, and glared at him. He wasn’t sure what had happened. He just knew he wasn’t pleased with the sound of it. Rheinhard fetched a cup of water and propped Ausar up on his knees, offering it to him. “To wash the acid out of your mouth.” He told him sternly.

“How are the boys? If they’re fighting I’ll go in there and beat them myself.” Chaceledon bristled.

“They are fine.” Rheinhard said dismissively. “Nestor took magic from the bond without giving Ausar the chance to pay the price. Inizae pay dearly for their magic.”

“Best keep an eye on them, then, unless they decide to be petty and give Ausar a stomachache every time they feel sour about something.” Chaceledon sighed.

“Try not to tell Seteta. She would worry.” Rheinhard muttered. He wanted her to recover well, and not worry about the growing pains that came with dealing with his curse.
 
Ausar did his best to catch his breath, gazing up at the stars while Chaceledon practically stood over him. The pain was washing through him in waves, at least, so he had short moments of reprieve. When Rheinhard returned with water, he managed an amused snort at the man's brusque sternness. He swished water around his mouth several times, spitting it out on the ground before attempting to take a drink.

It burned like alcohol going down his throat. Alcohol that was on fire. But Ausar forced himself to finish the whole glass. It was the magic making it feel that way, not any physical injury.

"She'll know," he rasped quietly, bending his knees and leaning forward to rest his head on them. "She'll take one look at me in the morning and she'll know."

He glanced warily up at Chaceledon.

"Nestor won't do it again," he murmured. "Tianau certainly won't. And I doubt Ferenzi will try anything like it, either. Hopefully between the three of them, if and when I wake any of the others, they'll make it clear that my magic is off-limits."
 
Chaceledon folded his arms across his chest. “What did you do to them?” He asked, his tone stern and cold. “You may be Seteta’s father but I am their mother. I’ve changed diapers on most of those boys. Nestor isn’t as strong as he looks and my sweet little Wren isn’t either.”

“Not the time.” Rheinhard muttered, taking the glass from Ausar and setting it aside. “If he had to make a point to them, he had to make a point. They cannot die.”

“You didn’t see what happened, did you?” Chaceledon challenged. He wasn’t sure about Ausar. Rehema and Seteta were fine women but perhaps they had placed their faith in the wrong man. Perhaps he was just being overprotective…but he couldn’t help it. They’d been family for too long. He still remembered Ferenzi arriving tearstreaked and covered in blood, and cradling Nestor in his arms in a rare moment of weakness. In many ways they were more family to him than the dragons were.

“No. I didn’t want to. Drop it, Chaceledon. What’s done is done.” Rheinhard’s tone told him pushing further would start an argument.

“Fine. I’ll get him some mint tea. But I want to see the boys later.” Chaceledon said in a pinched tone, and walked off with his nose in the air to get some iced tea for Ausar. He returned and put the pitcher down on the ground without looking at him.

“We can sleep out here.” Rheinhard said with a sigh, and curled up on the ground.
 
Ausar was quiet as Chaceledon and Rheinhard... bickered. He was slightly surprised that the dragon offered to go get tea. The mint would perhaps help. He wasn't sure how much of the nausea was the magic itself, or his body reacting to the pain.

He managed a quiet murmur of thanks when Chaceledon returned with the tea.

"It's unlikely I will sleep," he told Rheinhard as the man curled up nearby. "But you should get what rest you can."

Ausar grimaced, and scooted himself over to lean against a large, stone planter. He frowned slightly, bothered by what the dragon had said earlier, and spoke up before Chaceledon walked away.

"I know he isn't," Ausar sighed. "I know Nestor is... vulnerable and tenderhearted. But he refuses to listen to me. So I have to find whatever way I can to make him do so.

"But I promise, I will not break him without putting him back together again. Any of them."
 
Chaceledon paused, and looked back at Ausar. “Nestor is a refugee. He was beaten every day of his life by an adoptive father who couldn’t stand his intelligence, and a mother so shattered by what happened to her she let it happen. He hated both of his parents. He’s always been alone and he’s physically weaker than the rest of the boys. Of course he’s not listening; he’s had however many hundreds of years of brutes who couldn’t read.” He sighed and rubbed his face. “Be kind to him. I tried, gods know I tried, but even I was dull and uninteresting to him.”

The dragon pursed his lips. “Seteta was smart, and resourceful, and she asked him to teach her. You’ve got a room full of dragons to impress in a very short amount of time and no command of the language. You should be spending all the time you can with Nestor learning. I need to make your clothing; I’ve got a lot to do and not a lot of time.”

Chaceledon took a deep breath. “I could use Klaus’ help.” He said warily. “For sewing and embroidery. He’s got a gift.”

Rheinhard sighed tiredly, and closed his eyes as his mother returned to Seteta’s side. He slept, though fitfully. He curled up with his knees to his chest, back against stones to protect his vulnerable spine, hands curled up near his throat. He growled occasionally in his sleep, but didn’t wake the rest of the night.
 
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"Nestor said at dinner he would help with teaching all of us," Ausar sighed. "He'll have quite a lot to keep himself occupied for the next few weeks."

Chaceledon mentioned Klaus then, and Ausar grimaced.

"Absolutely not," Ausar answered, shaking his head, and then groaning as the pain rippled through him again. "I have enough on my hands with Nestor right now, let alone the one who murdered Rehema's father. You'll have to do your best without him. Many of the Inizae are gifted with those skills. You'll have to get their help."

He wasn't about to awaken Klaus while Rehema was vulnerable. While he was weakened. While they were surrounded by Inizae families with young children. No matter how well Chaceledon thought he might be able to control him.

Fortunately, the conversation was finished for the night. Ausar bit back a pained moan, slumping forward to settle his forehead against his knees, arms clenched around his middle. It was going to be a long night.


Seteta woke earlier than she would have liked in the morning, to the healer and a pet carrying a tray of food rapping on the door before letting themselves in. She sat up and wrapped a shawl around her naked shoulders.

"The kitchen pets have been informed of your diet for the next few days, and how often you need to eat," the healer told her, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed as the pet settled the food tray on Seteta's lap. "They will come and find you whenever it's time for you to eat." She held out a small piece of paper. "This is your schedule. If your betrothed can spare me some time after breakfast, I'd like to speak with Dahna Seikilos about it personally. I had hoped to speak with her last night but it got too late."

Seteta looked over the paper as she began to eat. The food was... simple. Stewed fruit, scrambled eggs, rice cooked in broth. A creamy custard, warm from the oven. All easy to digest. The schedule was... less simple. Her day was broken up into several slots, no longer than 3 hours at a time except for overnight. Times for her to work on Nameday preparations, interspersed with rest and eating, and a few smaller bits of time for physical exercise.

"Of course, as I said last night, if you feel dizzy, you stop whatever it is you're doing and rest," the healer said sternly. "And then we'll reevaluate how you're doing in a few days."

Seteta nodded, though she bit nervously at the inside of her lip. So many setbacks had happened... she was beginning to feel that being prepared in time for the Nameday would be a miracle, let alone winning Chaceledon's hand.

"I understand," she said with a nod, then turned to the pet. "Will you ask Keket to meet me in the garden?" A short walk was on her agenda after breakfast. It would be easier to have Keket coordinate the people she wanted for the Nameday dance.

Then she turned to Chaceledon. "You can help the healer speak with Seikilos, right, sehejib?"
 
Chaceledon woke with Seteta, and sat up slowly when the healer entered. He approved of the schedule; it kept work light on Seteta and encouraged her to eat and rest as much as possible. He rubbed her back as the healer spoke, turning to his own thoughts. He needed to start sewing. Get everyone’s measurements, begin working on mock-ups. Gods, why did Ausar have to be so damned stubborn? He could control Klaus! He needed to speak with Seikilos and make some arrangements for him, but he’d always had a good rapport with Klaus.

He was a bit worried about him being asleep for so long. The last time Klaus had been active was in Vel Anir. So much had passed…he’d rather he be on their side than locked away and forgotten. It was one of his biggest fears having someone else hold the leash…that the Inizae involved would be so terrified of one or the other that they’d just never wake again.

He tuned back in when Seteta touched his arm, and nodded. “Of course, love. Could you do a favor for me..? I need Klaus to help with the sewing. More than that, I want to talk to them about me getting married. It feels so dishonest to have them shut away and ignorant of everything that’s happened. I know Klaus is dangerous, but he listens to me and there are precautions we can take. He’s just sensitive is all.” He said worriedly.

Chaceledon got up and began to dress himself. He brushed his hair, lotioned his face and hands, oiled his cuticles, brushed his teeth, brushed a little oil over his eyebrows and through his hair, and splashed his face with a little rosewater. It was the bare minimum, really. He added kohl to his eyelids as an afterthought. “Right,” he turned to the healer. “Let’s go.”

Seikilos was in the kitchen, drinking a cup of weak tea. The kitchen itself was a storm of activity getting breakfast for so many ready. Chaceledon had to pull the healer away as a harried pet swept by with two very full baskets of eggs. Seikilos looked up with a smile.

“Ah, good morning.” She greeted them.

“Good morning. The healer has some requests she’d like to make…and I’d like to revisit one.” Chaceledon sat down with a sigh, gesturing for the healer to sit.

“I see.” Seikilos cocked an eyebrow.

“While I thank you for use of your studio what I really need is an assistant. The best assistant. Unfortunately, it’s Klaus Volker. He’s a bright boy and very sweet, but he can get a bit rambunctious in the way they can. I was wondering if you had any way he could blow off some of that energy before settling to work.” Chaceledon said carefully.

“I do, actually. My son owns a series of establishments where three men were caught stealing. Humans. I’ve agreed to punish them but wasn’t sure how. This seems an agreeable solution.” Seikilos sighed. “One has to remain alive.”

“Klaus never was really a fan of killing, just rearranging.” Chaceledon said brightly, and looked to the healer expectantly.
 
Seteta scowled lightly when Chaceledon mentioned Klaus, but gnawed the inside of her lip thoughtfully. She wished she'd had the chance to talk with Klaus while she'd still been steward but... so many things had kept happening. And then suddenly she wasn't the steward anymore.

"I don't know about the sewing," she said. "But I'll tell mit that you want to speak with Klaus about the wedding. I know you're fond of him. Are you... allowed to help that much, sewing the costumes? I know you mentioned before that helping me too much would negate the challenge."

She couldn't imagine that her father would be okay with bringing Klaus out while her mother and Mesi were present, let alone all the younger children. Not after what had happened to her grandfather.

She certainly wouldn't have been comfortable with that.

She finished eating as Chaceledon dressed, speaking quietly with the healer to clarify some things on the schedule, and smiling softly as she snuck glances at Chaceledon. The pet took the tray when she was finished eating, around the same time that Chaceledon and the healer departed.

"Will you have Kahi or Anai come help me dress?" she asked. "They're staying in Persian's old room."

"Of course," the pet nodded before she left to return the tray to the kitchen and fetch Keket to the garden.

"Thank you," Seteta murmured, pushing back the covers and carefully swinging her legs over the edge of the bed.

Anai skipped through the door just a moment later, then paused to look at Seteta and quietly tsk'd. "You didn't wash your face last night did you?"

Seteta stuck out her tongue. "I was too tired."

"Well then, let's get you cleaned up and dressed for the day," Anai giggled, looping her arm through Seteta's and helping her stand.

Seteta let Anai catch her up on all the gossip from the caravan as she washed up and dressed, but it was while Anai was braiding her hair that she said something truly concerning.

"What do you mean Kahi slept in mut's room last night? Where was mit?"

"I don't know exactly," Anai said after a moment's pause. "The healer knocked on the door late last night and said Ausar asked for one of us to stay with her. That... something had happened with the Well."

"Again?!" Seteta sighed. She thought Nestor had agreed to go easier on her father. "I'll ask him or Rheinhard later, I guess. Did mit return?"

"Yes," Anai said as she finished fastening Seteta's braid, then helped her stand. "He came back early this morning, though Kahi said he seemed very tired. Now, are you feeling all right?"

"A little tired, but no dizziness," Seteta answered. "Keket's probably waiting in the garden by now. You're welcome to come walk with us."

Keket was in the garden when they made it outside, and Seteta kept her eyes peeled for Rheinhard as she spoke quietly with Keket, telling her which people she needed for the Nameday dance and asking her to help gather them--it would be a bit much for one of the pets to handle, as they didn't know who everyone was.


The healer followed Chaceledon down the kitchens, letting out a startled gasp as he tugged her out of the way of the bustling pets.

"Good morning." She smiled at the dahna, and waited patiently as Chaceledon made his request, though she couldn't help grimacing at the topic. It was... a strange conversation to listen in on.

There was quiet for a few moments before she realized that both Chaceledon and Seikilos were staring expectantly at her.

"Ah, sorry," she mumbled, then pulled out a couple more pieces of paper and handed them to the dahna. She'd made an effort to scribble her notes in common, but it had been a very long time since she'd had to use the script, and a couple things were marked out and re-written in Inizae. Hopefully the dragoness would be able to read them.

"Those are Seteta's schedule for the next few days, and also a list of ingredients that I need," she said. "Some of the ingredients, though, I'm... not entirely familiar with. Ausar brought me a recipe for a tincture for Seteta but didn't mention where he'd acquired it.

"The schedule will be reevaluated every few days as she grows stronger. But for the next few days, especially, it's vital that she doesn't over exert herself. Her heart is... very unstable right now. I'd prefer it if she didn't use magic at all for the time being."
 
“Costumes…” Chaceledon looked at Seteta like she’d slapped him. That word had never come out of anyone’s mouth to describe his clothing. Costumes. The word was some obscene thing that conjured up images of garish clowns and street performers in bells, fetid clothing so colorful a man could vomit. He dressed, wounded, and accompanied the healer to Seikilos.

He stood by as she read out what Seteta needed. Costumes! The word put bile in his mouth and he barely heard what she said. Seikilos took the paper and read it quietly, though she squinted at some of the Inizae words and had to sound them out under her breath. She sighed and nodded.

“I can get you these. You tend to Seteta. Keep her alive and well. Your people need her.” Seikilos looked…tired. The events of the past few weeks had worn her considerably. She wasn’t young anymore, and magic exhaustion crept around the edges of her consciousness. She wasn’t eating well, as dragons never did in front of company, and she had the stress of her own Dahn to manage.

She may have been alone in the house, but her businesses were vast, she had a pair of boys to handle nehmaji for, and her children at that.

“Thank you, Dahna.” Chaceledon added with a meaningful look at the healer. “I know this isn’t easy for you.”

“It isn’t. But I promised, and I made a promise to my late dahnesh.” Seikilos rubbed her eyes. “I need to make entreaties to Dahn Peridot and Prunella today for my grandsons. You’ll be largely on your own.”

_________________________

Rheinhard patiently watched Seteta and Keket from afar. Hassani hovered nervously, not wanting to intrude on Keket’s moment with her friend but not wanting to get too close to Rheinhard. The Volker was quietly exercising, stretching and making sure his ribs had healed entirely from his scuffle with Chaceledon. Neither of them had sat down to talk about it with everything going on. He wasn’t sure if they ever would.

At the moment, rest was their watchword. Seteta needed to rest. He needed to rest. Chaceledon needed it but wouldn’t take it, not with work to be done.
 
"I will do everything I can for Seteta," the healer swore, and gave a releived sigh. But then she frowned at the dragoness' weariness.

"I have... one more favor to ask, Dahna Seikilos. Chaceledon has a foot injury. I can treat it" --she shot him a look that said she hadn't forgotten and he shouldn't dare to think of trying to go untreated-- "but I'd be greatly relieved if a dragon physician could check it as well. And... perhaps you should get checked as well? You seem tired."

She was likely out of bounds suggesting that, but she knew the dahna was an elder. It was clear from the way Chaceledon deferred to her. She would be remiss in not caring for the dahna if she noticed something was wrong.


Seteta had spotted Rheinhard within minutes, but let him have his space as she walked and talked with Keket and Anai. Hassani was... almost adorable in his attempts to both be around Keket and not around Rheinhard.

It wasn't long before she kissed Keket and Anai on their cheeks and sent them on their way. She waved cheerily to Hassani, and then turned and approached Rheinhard, her face serious.

"What happened with my father last night?" she demanded. "Was it Nestor again? You know what... just take me in. I need to know if he's still going to help with lessons for the Nameday."
 
Seikilos raised an eyebrow, and looked at Chaceledon’s foot. She did smell infection no matter how hard he tried to hide it. Dragons weren’t used to admitting weakness. She drew herself up and straightened her back, banishing the exhaustion from her eyes as much as possible. “You tend to the Inizae. Chaceledon will come with me to Dahn Prunella.” She said decidedly. “I am fine. Accommodating guests such as yourselves is what Dahn Hedoni does best.” She shook her hair out a bit, and finished her tea with a sharp clink of her cup in its dish. She rose, arranging her hands elegantly in front of her. “Give the list to the pets in the kitchen; they are authorized to order things and they know common. Chaceledon? Come with me.”

She was sharp, authoritative, and swept out of the room swiftly. Chaceledon winced. “Try not to point out things like that to our host…you’ve offended her..” he muttered as he passed the healer. He followed Seikilos out to the landing. He likely wasn’t going to get any respite himself; she now was going to prove she wasn’t tired. Any plans to take an easy pace to Prunella were gone. If she had to keep up a strong pace to prove her vitality she would, and Chaceledon wouldn’t dare call her on it.

As they flew, Chaceledon eyed her. Her scales were clean but worn, and her claws were fragmenting a bit with age. Her mane wasn’t as full. As with most dragons, her shape was distinctly peaked along her spine with low body weight. Chaceledon was slightly fuller, being younger, and his colors were much more bright. His ochre body was shining from being able to polish his scales on the sands again, and he still looked at his bronze claws occasionally in thanks to Aptuv.

In dragon form his foot was much more obvious. There was a large swelling and discoloration around the scales on the top of his foot, and his footpad was swollen and tender. He sighed and let it dangle a bit as they flew, the cool air refreshing the fevered skin a bit. He should have asked Nestor to lance it. Too late now. Seikilos’ pride was at stake here, and consulting Dahn Prunella would give her an excuse to edge in questions about her grandsons.

Nehmaji, and eventually marriage. Nehmaji was just their introduction to social circles as adults, or eligible bachelors. This was between women of the Dahn, not for him to intrude upon.
______________________

Rheinhard gave her a pained look, but she was as strong as her father. Arguing wasn’t going to do him any good. She might have been tired, and she really shouldn’t be going into the Well, but pointing that out might just make her more stubborn. He settled his jaws over her eyes.

Tianau was napping in the Sunroom. Ferenzi was out in the Well, reading Nestor’s notebook. He’d forgotten it in the Sunroom during the incident, and his pride wouldn’t let him come out of the Arena to get it. The Arena still bristled with poisoned vines, that tightened and tensed like muscles whenever Ferenzi passed it in his pacing.

“You sure you should be in here? You’re pale.” Ferenzi looked up from Nestor’s book. “He’s got a lot of tricks in here. Want to see?”

Tianau yawned and came out of the Sunroom, ruffling his white hair. “Your friend lost the plot. He’s been in there for hours screaming his head off and breaking things.” Tianau jerked his head to the entrance to the Arena. Faintly, one could hear glass crashing to the floor and a frustrated, choked noise. “I think your dad broke him.”

“He’s deserved it for a while, he’s been nothing but arrogant.” Ferenzi shrugged, flipping a page. “Little bastard’s been holding out on us…did you know we can eat?”

“What? Really? I can’t taste anything in here!” Tianau rushed over to read over Ferenzi’s shoulder.

“Says here memories are about feeling just as much as sight, or sound, or smell. If we concentrate on a shard, we could taste what the person did. Not just watch it. He tried it with one of my fancy dinner memories…” Ferenzi scowled. “…Bastard. Says here he was afraid we’d use up more of the Well’s power or damage the memories the more we used them, so he didn’t tell us until he was sure. ‘Further test needed’ what the hell does that mean?”

“What else?” Tianau craned his head to try and read. “What language is that?!”

“Some of it’s old fae, some common, some orcish or Voltese…even some Sunlander in here. The major stuff he’s got in a cypher. There’s no key, before you ask.” Ferenzi muttered.
 
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