Private Tales Of Sand & Dragonfire

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Nailah tried not to listen to the conversation down below, but with the place so empty and quiet it was hard not too.

She barely moved when Chaceledon entered the room, only opening her eyes to watch him as he warmed the water.

"Thank you," she whispered, sinking a little deeper into the water as warmth enveloped her.

His quiet apology filled the air between them, and she smiled sadly.

"This is... as strange a situation for me as it is for you," she finally said. "The last thing either I or Seteta want to do is make you uncomfortable. But you should know that you ground her as much as the earth does now. She misses you, deeply. She wants to be held, and sung to sleep, and cherished."

She sat up and reached for his hand. "Seteta has no desire to break off your engagement," Nailah said. "But I understand more of the life you'll be subjecting yourself to at her side than she does. The kingdom I reigned was never a calm and quiet one. It was dying, and not gently. Reviving a long dead kingdom will be the same, no matter how different the two look in the end. New life is always accompanied by blood and pain and struggle.

"If you want out of it, the time to choose so is now."

Nailah ran her thumb over his knuckles. As much as she had chided him for emotional distance... there was something she needed to share with him too, if she were to leave the past fully behind. Because as she'd sat and soaked in that short time before he joined her, Nailah had realized she was at fault too.

"Before you decide, though, there is something I need to tell you," she said, shifting nervously. "The... naz'rim among the Inizae... originally, it was our equivalent of the nehmaji you dragons have.

"Originally, it was only a custom among the ruling family, and it was tied to bloodlines. The Hedoni dahn had long allied with us, and... Saltarello was my naz'rim companion."

There was more. So, so much more. But she didn't want to completely overwhelm him.
 
“I’m sorry for Joseph, as well. He’s suffered. Even other fae avoid him.” Chaceledon said softly. “And…the more I think about it, the less I want to become him. I don’t want to resent you.” He squeezed her hand a bit, warming her wet skin. “I miss Seteta. I miss her laugh, and the way she’d joke around. I miss making love to her. I don’t want you, or her, to be sick anymore.”

He listened, stroking his fingers over her hand. “If I was afraid of seeing blood, or fire, or people suffering, I’d have died in Witherhold. War’s been a part of my life for thousands of years now, Nailah. I’m not scared of war. I love Seteta, and I’ve blown my life to pieces for her. Give me the courtesy of learning to fall in love with this part of you too?” He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it.

Hearing his father had been her nehmaji gave him pause. It wasn’t unusual among dragons. His adoptive father’s brother had been his. A man he’d called uncle. He looked down. “If I were still a dragon, it still wouldn’t matter.” He said quietly. “My uncle was mine.”

Chaceledon slid the ring back onto her finger, and kissed it.
 
"I will never use you," Nailah swore, but it was Seteta's vow as well. "Not like Joseph's lover used him, by the sound of things. If I need something from you, I will ask, not manipulate."

She couldn't help the blush that warmed her face when he kissed her hand, and Seteta's relief was all-encompassing as Chaceledon slid the engagement ring back on her finger.

Nailah flipped his hand over and kissed his palm. "You are very easy to fall in love with," she whispered with the hint of a coy smile curling the corners of her mouth.

She settled back against the tub wall again, content to watch him through the soft tendrils of steam rising from the water.

"I have more to tell you, about Saltarello. Something you deserve to hear from me rather than accidentally among your kind, because dragons have very long memories," she said after a few moments of quiet contentment. She'd spent hours telling him general things about his father as they'd waited for the elders to arrive at the temple, but she'd avoided the topic of their relationship beyond friendship.

"I loved three men in my lifetime," she sighed, voice wistful and nostalgic. "Amphetrion was the first. My husband was the last, and he deserved to have been loved better than I could give him.

"But I loved Saltarello too," Nailah said, barely more than a whisper. "Unlike Amphetrion, though, our relationship had a clean ending. As much as we cared for each other, neither his family nor mine would have permitted us to marry, and I had a duty to my people. I was not free to follow the whims of my heart. I am glad to see that the Inizae have changed, in that regard. I had hoped they would."
 
Chaceledon sat next to the tub to listen to her, making sure his shoulder was against it so he could keep the water warm. He had expected as much; falling in love with a man or woman who helped with nehmaji was very common. There was a reason that dragons treated it like a business transaction and that contact was limited. One could become obsessed. Chaceledon certainly had been. He shook his head slightly.

“It’s not a rare thing to fall in love like that. You didn’t have parents to cut you off like mine did for me. I thought I was in love because of the ceremony, and how intimate it was, and that was my mistake. They were cruel to me for my own good. Maybe in another time and with another species they would have let you be with him.” Chaceledon sighed. “I’m glad the Inizae have changed, but the dragons likely never will. I don’t know what I was thinking trying to get them to accept you. They weren’t ready.”

He patted her. “Come to bed when you’re ready.” He kissed her forehead, rising and heading toward the bed. He would embrace her, and cuddle her, but he felt quiet.

In the morning, Chaceledon rose early and let her sleep in. He left her in Joseph’s care to fetch Ausar and Rheinhard. Joseph, for his credit, knocked on her door with a carafe of coffee and a bowl of fresh fruit, and a fragrant cigarette in his teeth. “Staff isn’t back yet. Grabbed you breakfast.” He called through the door. “Let’s get to the rat killing before I lose my sense of sympathy.”
 
"I did have parents," Nailah snorted. "But my affections were as much a business transaction as anything else. Whatever I had that could be used to further the Empire's interests was expected to be used..."

She had been the dutiful daughter and heir, only loving Amphetrion from a distance until Saltarello turned her heart upside down and inside out. Perhaps she'd been too greedy, wanting to love both of them.

In this life, she would be content with Chaceledon.

"Perhaps they would have," Nailah mused, smiling softly at Chaceledon's words of comfort. "But it doesn't matter. We have you now."

She was quiet when he spoke of the dragons, reaching over the edge of the tub to pat his shoulder gently. No one should have had to choose between their family and their lover.

When he kissed her forehead, she wanted to tilt her head back and kiss his lips, but she didn't. He clearly wasn't ready for more than that, and tonight--the whole day--had been difficult.

When she finished bathing, she wrapped a dry towel around her and snuggled up to Chaceledon in bed. She was likely going to have to wear the same clothes tomorrow and she didn't want to sleep in them.


She roused briefly when Chaceledon headed out, murmuring something about having Ausar pack some things for her.

When Joseph knocked a long while later, she was dressed and had braided her hair.

"Rat killing?" she asked with a raised brow, but frowned at the food. "No meat or eggs? Not even cheese?"

She shook her head, took the food, and headed back down to the kitchen, not waiting to see if Joseph would follow. Coffee and fruit were a start but not sufficient.


Ausar and Rheinhard were ready for Chaceledon when he arrived, and the dragon didn't even need to ask about packing things for Seteta. A bag with several changes of clothing and toiletries was already set aside for her.

"Can you spare a few minutes?" Ausar asked Chaceledon. They'd been on the wrong foot with each other since that... night with Persian.
 
“Well excuse me princess, either you eat light now or you throw up eggs all over the tiles in the Court.” Joseph snapped, following her. “If we’re going to do this you listen to me. Nothing but plant matter passes your lips. Tea. Coffee. Fruit. I’ll make you some damned potatoes but you don’t consume the flesh of the dead or crack eggs before going to see them.”

He pushed past her into the kitchen, grabbing a pair of potatoes out of a barrel. “Everything has symbolism to people that old. Everything from what you consume to how you behave. The dead are more forgiving than most but if you want that soul settled…you’ll be an Angel.” Joseph gave her a look, and scrubbed them clean. “Now sit down, pour some coffee and I’ll make you some spiced potatoes.”

________________

“Joseph’s agreed to help us. Will you be alright seeing him again?” The dragon asked Rheinhard, who nodded curtly and began packing their things up for a flight. Chaceledon watched him for a few minutes, hesitating, then dropped it. It wasn’t his place.

Chaceledon gave Ausar a tired look. “What is it, Ausar?”
 
"You could have said so," Nailah snapped right back. "But coffee and fruit and potatoes is not enough to sustain me. Eggs aren't dead flesh, though, and neither is cheese or milk."

She gave him an expectant look, waiting an explanation about why she couldn't crack eggs and could only eat plant matter.

She would have offered to help with the cooking but it seemed likely that would offend Joseph too.


"I owe you an apology," Ausar said. He'd tried to do so once before, but they'd both still been too fires up.

"I don't regret defending my daughter," he said. "But I should never have called you nameless and without family. I did that solely to make you hurt, and it was wrong.

"I'm sorry, and I recognize that you gave up your family to be with my daughter. For that alone, you will always be a part of ours."
 
Joseph turned and thumped her lightly with the potato. “Think. Eggs are a symbol of great rebirth, but they’re also a coffin. A babe dead in the womb long before it could even begin. Cheese, milk? Motherhood. Birth. New life. Since you’re not a mother it’s disrespectful to the folk there. Dead xio’pan and gryphons will smell the egg on you.”

He shook his head and began chopping up the potatoes. “Think, girl, think. Living with a dragon should have given you a sense of the romantic a long time ago. You can eat like a Floilander when you return. For now, you’ll have to deal with eating like a dragon.”

____________________

“No. You were right. I am nameless.” Chaceledon sighed. “And you cannot swallow words back up. I appreciate the effort though, Ausar. Just keep your mind on the task ahead. Do what Joseph asks of you, no matter how odd.”

“Unless it involves alcohol.” Rheinhard said sourly. “His slow moving suicide is not to be entertained.”
 
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Nailah scowled and attempted to dodge the potato. "Eggs are coffins?" she almost howled with laughter. What in the blazing sands kind of fae nonsense is that? she thought silently.

"I have been a mother, though my children are dead for millennia now," she said. "But I'll allow you that Seteta has not been and this is her body. As for the Inizae, egg shells signify protection, not tombs."

She sighed and looked around the kitchen. They would need more then fruit and potatoes to eat. Legumes and nuts would be filling as well, and she started poking through bags and canisters.

"What else do I need to know about not offending the fae dead?"


Ausar sighed, but nodded. He had made his apology but it was not his place to force Chaceledon to react one way or the other to it.

He glanced at Rheinhard, and nodded in acknowledgement of the instructions about this Joseph.

"Shall we be off then?"
 
Joseph gave her a hard look. “If you laid an egg, you might think of such lost potential in a different light.” He said coldly. “You’ve got to learn to expand your thinking. Protection, motherhood, loss, death, all in a single egg.” He set the cut up potatoes in a pan to fry them, sprinkling herbs and salt over them. He tossed them in the pan, watching her root around.

“Know that you’re already starting off on the wrong foot, for one. The Inizae and dragons burn their dead, and the dead take offense to it. They see it as being mistrustful, and denying your dead the chance to reconnect in the afterlife. The dead see it as their realm to manage reincarnation. Only when a soul is ready can it emerge through. You…are a special case. You went through neither Cardinal nor ceremony.” Joseph shrugged.

“It’s up to them to interpret whether Carruth meant this as a favor…or a curse. He and he alone dictates death. Above all other gods, in all other cultures, death unites us all.” Joseph sighed. “Respect the wurms, as well. You’re bound to see one being Inizae. They’re huge creatures, bigger than dragons, and are rarely seen above the soil. They protect the Court.”

Joseph set the plate of fried potatoes on the counter, and opened a cabinet to tug down a bottle of whiskey. He poured himself a glass and leaned against the counter, sipping it. A loud thumping outside, and a few exclamations. “That’ll be your beau.” He snorted.

A knife whistled through the kitchen entryway and slammed into the wood just above Joseph’s hair. He startled, dropping the glass of whiskey. Before he could start shouting, Rheinhard followed the knife through the door. He picked Joseph up in a bear hug, ignoring the fae’s angry sputtering.
 
"In my time, we didn't burn our dead," Nailah said as she hauled out canisters of dried chickpeas and lentils and roasted peanuts. She prodded Seteta's memories for a moment. "You have Persian to blame for that, partially. We were unwilling to leave our dead exposed on the sands as we fled from his slavers, without a way to attend to funerary and mourning rites properly."

She filled a small bowl with the peanuts and dumped the other things into bags to take with them.

"The Inizae and the dragons both belong to Aptuv before Carruth, even in death," Nailah said with a shrug as she sat back down and speared a potato with a knife and popped it in her mouth. "And the issue in my case was that I had to wait for the circumstances in the world of the living to be right for my return. If Seteta had not visited Dahn Hedoni too soon and nearly died when the full strength of her magic was awakened, she and I would have merged naturally over time."

Joseph mentioned the wurms, and her brow furrowed a moment. "I sensed them," she murmured thoughtfully. "When Seteta was dying and I awoke. We were one with the earth and its power for a short while. It was... like nothing else."

Nailah laughed when Chaceledon landed outside and startled passers-by. "Hard not to make a dramatic entrance when you're a dragon," she grinned at Joseph. "In more ways than one."

She tucked another bite of potato into her mouth and quickly chewed and swallowed it as Rheinhard barrelled through the door and greeted his friend. Ausar was practically on his heels and Nailah started to rise to greet him but he waved her back into her seat, kissing her forehead.

"Good morning, mit," she murmured, and Ausar smiled as he sat beside her.

"You're looking more like yourself," he said, watching her thoughtfully.

She glanced at the doorway, waiting for Chaceledon. "We had a much needed talk last night," Nailah said. "Seteta is... more at ease, which means I am too."
 
Chaceledon came through the door, smiling sheepishly at Joseph. The fae sighed, scratching between Rheinhard’s eyes and along his cheek. Rheinhard leaned into his fingers slightly, closing his eyes briefly to indulge the petting. “If Klaus is awake…” Joseph threatened.

“Aron is awake. Ferenzi and Nestor as well. Tianau you do not know.” Rheinhard set him back on his feet. The fae adjusted his clothing, clearing his throat.

“It’s…good to see you again, anyway. We’ll need you and Nestor.” Joseph eyed Ausar.

“The steward, Ausar.” Rheinhard explained.

“Great. Another Inizae.” Joseph eyed him. “You two are definitely related. Eat your food. We’ll be ready to go soon.”

“I do need a few moments to just…sit.” Chaceledon begged, grabbing a stool so he could sit at the table with Nailah. He patted her arm companionably.

“Please. If I needed a flight I’d never have gotten here on my own. We take the traditional way.” Joseph waved a hand dismissively. “Not afraid to go back to your captors territory are you?”

Chaceledon shook his head. Joseph nodded approvingly, and opened up the wood stove. He reached in, gingerly snatching a piece of charcoal and deftly shutting it again. “Whenever you’re ready then, princess.” Joseph told Nailah.
 
Nailah was relieved to see Chaceledon step through the door, but his weariness was evident. He hadn't eaten enough the day before, and she doubted he'd eaten breakfast before he flew back to the temple. Seteta was worried, but also enjoying seeing Rheinhard relax with one of his friends.

"Ausar is Seteta's father," Nailah reminded Joseph as Chaceledon sat beside her. She shoved the bowl of potatoes his way. "Eat something," she urged him quietly. "You've worked hard the past couple days."

She watched curiously as Joseph plucked a piece of charcoal out of the stove, and rolled her eyes as he called her princess.

"We can go whenever Chaceledon is done eating," she said, then grinned cheekily. "And if you really want to call me something, it's queen not princess."

She glanced up at Chaceledon. "Are we going back to Witherhold, then?" she asked, pulling the name from Seteta's memories. "And how does the charcoal help us get there?"
 
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