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Chapter Nineteen The sun felt delicious, just right for basking, and the cool mountain breeze kept it from becoming too warm for Valgaav's liking. It was such a perfect afternoon; the sky was a shade of blue so intense it almost hurt to look at it, and the enormous, puffy clouds offered dazzling contrast. Of course, the weather was hardly enough on its own to merit even a rating of good, as far as the quality of the day was concerned. The perfection came from the company. Filia had returned to her former position, laying perpendicular to him on her back, her head resting on his chest. Trailing out on his other side were her long, golden tresses, with which one hand was kept busy lazily stroking and toying at the curls. The other rested on her shoulder, underneath her dainty hand. Neither of them spoke, but it was a companionable silence, the sort borne only by the ease of one another's presence, not needing to fill the quiet with inane chatter. Yes, it was quite the perfect day. The darker moments over the past few months, the past few lifetimes, faded in the sunlight, growing obscure. He'd have to do something for Jillas and Gravos when they got back to thank them for this idea. As he watched the clouds drift lazily past through partially-closed eyes, something caught his attention and he opened his eyes wider, studying a cloud. Grinning faintly, he gave Filia a light nudge and pointed it out. "What does that look like?" She looked to where he indicated, her expression remaining blank. "A cloud?" "I know it's a cloud, but what does it look like?" Confusion muddled her features. "A...white, puffy cloud?" "Well, yes, it's that, but it looks like a dragon. See?" From her expression, he could tell she couldn't, so he pointed out and described the head and wings, and the wispy bits that could be a tail, and an outstretched paw. "Oh, yeah." Filia chuckled softly. "Getting creative, are we?" He looked at her. "What, you never played this game when you were younger?" "Game?" "You know, look at the clouds and try to find shapes in them?" The look Filia gave him not only told him she hadn't, but that she also thought maybe he was slightly insane. "You're no fun," he groused playfully. "Idle hands make demon's work," she quoted. "Laying around picking out cloud shapes doesn't sound like an activity we would have been encouraged to engage in." Valgaav stared at her for a long moment, then sighed, stroking her hair gently. "It's never too late to start." She looked at him. "Go on. Give it a try?" Filia hesitated, then gave him a small, indulgent smile. "All right. For you, I will." She turned her attention back to the sky, frowning in thought as her gaze roamed over the various clouds. Valgaav kept his eyes on her face for two reasons, to watch her expression, and to keep from seeing anything more and fighting the temptation to point it out to her. After several long minutes, a look of delighted satisfaction settled across her features, and she pointed up to a cloud. "There. That part of it, on top, to the left? It looks like a dog's head with floppy ears." Valgaav grinned triumphantly. "There you go! It does look like that." "Your turn." "Okay. Hmm." He studied the clouds, peering intently at a formation. "That one there looks a bit like a swan." Filia looked to where he indicated, then shot him a dubious look, which he had thoroughly expected. After all, it was a bit of a stretch. "A swan with a severe ego problem?" he suggested, bringing his hands up to his head and moving them away, as if to indicate swelling. Filia laughed and lightly swatted his arm before turning her attention to the sky. "Hmm. Actually, that so-called swan looks more like a cobra now, with the hood flared and head reared up to strike." "Nice salvage. Hey, look at the dog, it's different now. Tell me, who does that look like?" Filia glanced at it, staring in perplexed silence for a few moments, then burst out laughing. "It's Jillas! And that puff of cloud right there, his eyepatch!" "There's a bear. See the head, the ears, and snout?" "Oh, yeah." Filia was getting into now. "And over there, it looks like bell." "A bell?" Valgaav couldn't quite see it. "Think of one of those big church bells on the swing." Filia moved her hands to indicate what she meant. "And there it is, on the upswing, with the clapper going up." He had to turn his head a bit and view it at an angle similar to what she was seeing, but then he was able to make out the shape. "It does look like that." Filia giggled softly. "This is fun." "I told you so," he teased. "Your turn again," she replied, giving him a small smirk. "Very well. Look at the side of that one cloud, see where it's puffing out? It's a face. Well, a face with an extremely large nose." "Oh, over there, a vase with flowers." "And below it, see? A foot." "Know what that one reminds me of?" "What?" "A big, soft bed covered in pillows." Filia yawned. Valgaav grinned. "The sun getting to you?" "A bit," she admitted. "Here, sit up a moment. I've got an idea." "Oh, dear." But she was grinning as she said it, shifting position to sit, watching him. Valgaav smirked a bit, then walked on his knees over to the picnic basket and carefully pulled out her portal. "Use this." Filia blinked, taking it from him. "Huh?" "Let's go dragon." Filia blushed furiously. "Um..." "What's wrong?" "Err... I'll..." She looked around, getting to her feet. "I'll just go over there and do it." "What's wrong with right here?" He didn't think it was possible for her to turn any more red, but he discovered he was mistaken. Her reply was so soft and mumbled he couldn't make it out. "What was that?" "I'm naked," she whispered. Valgaav blinked. Then promptly had to choke down a smirk as a hundred comments raced through his mind, all of which would most likely result in Mace-sama's appearance. Stay good, Valgaav. Stay good. Instead, he merely coughed, and gestured for her to go ahead. Still blushing bright red, Filia ducked behind some bushes. Valgaav turned his back, closing his eyes and changing to his dragon form. When he looked over his shoulder, he saw her standing there, her head ducked shyly, her wings folded tight to herself, and her tail coiled around her feet where she sat, the tip twitching slightly in nervous tension, and sporting a pink bow. Her young age was even more apparent in her dragon form, and her blue eyes looked at him in uncertainty through the locks of blond hair that tumbled down into her face. Tentatively, she started to take a step toward him, then stopped. "What is it, Filia?" he asked, crossing over to her. "I...I just wasn't sure how you'd react to me. Like this, I mean." She fluttered her wings slightly. In truth, he hadn't been certain how it would feel either, which was why he had turned around and transformed as well before facing her. But looking at her now, there was nothing which truly reminded him of the past. A few things, yes, but she never needed to know that. Gently, he nuzzled her cheek. "You're Filia," he said quietly. "That's all that matters." She sighed, a tiny, relieved sound, and nuzzled him back, stepping closer. Valgaav closed his eyes and rubbed his head along her neck lightly, flaring his wings and draping one over her back. Filia stepped closer to him, pressing her body up to his. He was surprised at the realization that her dragon form was a bit smaller than his own, since Goldens were usually among the larger dragons. But then, she was also younger. While his size didn't accurately reflect his age, he was a bit larger than he had been. Valgaav shook his head slightly and pressed his head against Filia's. The past was past. He wouldn't -- he couldn't think of those days. Not now, not anymore. "Let's stretch out," he whispered. Together, they moved closer to where the blanket was, stopping a few feet shy of it, and lay down on the grass. Gently, he craned his neck around Filia's, nuzzling her, and carefully lay his wing over her back. Filia sighed softly, closing her eyes and tucking her head back, resting her chin on his shoulder. Valgaav followed suit, moving his head to her in a way that his neck was stretched over hers, holding her protectively. The action brought another tiny sigh from Filia, and she snuggled closer. "This feels nice," she whispered. "Your fur's so soft, so silky." He smiled, closing his eyes as he wrapped his tail around hers lightly. "I didn't think you could hold me as a dragon." "Why's that?" he asked quietly. "We ... we weren't physically demonstrative. Not like this." "Filia, my love." He raised his head, drawing back to nuzzle her cheek, looking into her eyes. "They made you miss out on so much of what it is to be a dragon." "That's changing, though," she whispered, looking up at him. Valgaav smiled, resting his head against hers briefly. "Count on it." Drawing back, he resumed his previous positioning, snuggling closer to her protectively. "I love you," she murmured, her voice softened by the sun-induced drowsiness. "I love you too." "Filia." The warmth of his wing disappeared, letting a cold wind blow over her back. Half-asleep, she frowned, moving closer to him, trying to stay warm. "Filia, wake up!" She was jostled into opening her eyes when he roughly shoved his head against hers, causing her chin to slide off his shoulder. It was darker, the sun obscured by clouds. "Wha--" Filia never got the chance to finish her words as she was cut off by a dazzling flash of light that left her blinking and temporarily blinded, followed shortly thereafter by a deep, rumbling roar. "Filia, it's about to storm, come on! We've got to go!" Valgaav pulled away and nudged her to her feet. Quite awake at this point, Filia carefully picked up the picnic basket with her mouth by the handle, while Valgaav did the same with the blanket. "Should we try flying down? We'll make better time," Filia asked around the basket handle, raising her voice to be heard over the increasing wind. He looked around, hesitating, then shook his head, dropping the blanket to speak. "Not in this wind. We'd have to fly close to the ground as it is to avoid the lightning, and if a gust caught us wrong, we could crash into the hillside. Let's try to make it to that homestead you found." They darted down the slope, and when the skies opened up, talons dug deep into the earth for purchase as the thick grass grew slick with rain. Both of them kept their wings folded tightly against their bodies, trying to cut back on anything the strong gusts could catch. While neither of them were light enough by any standards to get blown away, the wind only added to the difficulty of navigating through the blinding rain, with the angle of descent, and slippery footing. Several times Filia wondered if it might not be easier to try navigating in her human form, but each time the question arose, the usefulness of her talons became clearly obvious. As it was, she wasn't even certain of their direction, she was just following Valgaav. Fortunately, he seemed to have more of a clue where they were going, and she almost walked into him as he stopped suddenly. Then he was gone, and Filia blinked furiously, giving her head a shake, trying to clear the water from her vision as she looked for him. He was standing there in his human form, using the soaked blanket to offer some meager protection from the rain. "Change down," he shouted over the storm. "We can't fit in there as dragons!" Filia balked, looking around for some privacy, and started to move away when a brilliant flash caused spots to form in her vision, and the air tingled over her scales with a powerful charge. Not ten feet away, a suddenly warped and splintered tree start to blaze, but the lightning-induced flames were quickly extinguished by the rain. Without a second thought, Filia dropped the basket and began to chant, changing forms from dragon to human. She had barely finished, reaching to pick up the basket, when she felt his hand wrap firmly around her wrist, pulling her past the derelict gate, running across the yard for the abandoned home. Valgaav shouted in surprise, and Filia felt herself being jerked forward roughly, stumbling to her knees as he disappeared into the ground, still gripping onto her wrist. She cried out as her knees struck stone, and the basket handle snapped out of her grip as she scrambled to plant her free hand on solid ground, digging her fingers into the sodden turf. Breathing heavily and whimpering at the burning sensations down her arm, Filia looked down the old well at Valgaav. "I can't pull you up!" she gasped, trying to draw him up, feeling his grip on her wet wrist slipping. A large blur of dark blues and reds flashed into her vision as the soaking blanket, which he still held tightly, was thrown out of the well. "Grab that!" he shouted. "Try to move back and brace yourself!" "All right!" Filia drew in a quick breath then released her grip on the ground, dropping down onto her shoulder, gripping the blanket tightly. Kicking her feet, she struggled for a foothold, trying to push herself further away from the well opening. "I got it!" Then the painful pulling on her arm ceased as he let go, and she felt the blanket take his weight, praying it would hold. Filia dug her heels into the ground, holding onto the wet material with both hands, shifting away from the well onto her back, trying to scoot backward as he started climbing out, hand over hand. When he was able to get his upper body over the mouth of the well, she released one hand from the blanket, reaching out to him, pulling him the rest of the way as he managed to get his knees onto the ground. Once out, they didn't waste any time getting to shelter, although their progress had been tempered by experience. They carefully picked their way over the rotting floorboards of the porch, and through the doorway. The wind still whistled sharply through the open windows, and down the crumbling fireplace, but at least the roof offered some degree of protection from the rain. "Are you all right?" they both asked at the same time. Valgaav just shook his head, not as much in response to the question as it was in exasperation, and took her arm again, examining the wrist. "How badly are you hurt?" "I'll be sore for a few days, I'm sure, but nothing's broken," she assured him. "What about you?" "Damn near dislocated my shoulder, but that's nothing new. Few scrapes I'll probably be feeling for a while, but aside from that, I'm fine." They looked at each other for a few moments. Filia didn't know who moved first, perhaps they both did. But one second they were looking at the other, and the next, they were hugging one another as if they'd never let go. Valgaav pulled away first, carefully holding her by the shoulders, looking at her. "You're absolutely trembling. We need to get you warmed up." "What about you?" she asked, and realized then that her teeth were chattering. "I can handle the cold a hell of a lot better." Valgaav pulled away, looking around, then put the wet blanket over her shoulders. "Not the best of options, but it's still thick enough to keep the worst of the wind off you for the moment." He walked over to the fireplace, looking up the chimney and examining it before scouting around the room. "What are you doing?' Filia asked, huddling down on the floor. "Looking for wood dry enough to burn." He scowled. "I'm not...wait." "What?" "These floorboards over here are already broken. They feel dry though." Reaching down, he grabbed the edge of one and brought his heel down at the other end to break it loose. "Be careful!" Filia called out as he staggered slightly when the wood gave way. After a few more breaks, he appeared satisfied that he had enough to get a decent blaze going for at least a little while. Valgaav dropped them into the fireplace and stepped back, and she forced herself to pay attention to what he was doing in an attempt to fight off the increasingly sluggish feeling that was settling over her. He concentrated on a spell, casting a flare lance at the fireplace, controlling its intensity and taking care that only the wood on the other side of the hearth would ignite. Then, with even more obvious caution, he cast another, this time aiming directly at the stone hearth, heating it as well. "That looks good. Come here." Valgaav crossed the room as Filia struggled to make her cold-numbed legs work well enough to stand, and helped her to her feet, moving her closer to the fireplace. He took the wet blanket and lay it down on the hot rocks of the hearth, far enough away from the fireplace to avoid the occasional spark. "Lay down on this. The hearth should heat it up. It's still wet, but at least it'll be warm and wet, and better than you getting burnt by the rock." Filia gratefully lay down on it, facing the flames and curling up into a huddled ball, trying to conserve her body temperature as much as possible. She heard him move away, and listened to the staccato rhythm of wood splintering and breaking, punctuated occasionally by a loud clatter as he would toss the timbers into a pile. Past that, the storm still raged overhead, and the thunder shook the forlorn building so frequently, it seemed to be almost a constant roll. The erratic illumination of lighting was giving her a headache, so Filia closed her eyes, concentrating on the steady red glow of the flames in front of her face. She hadn't even been aware she had dozed off until she felt Valgaav shaking her into consciousness, and she struggled through the thick mire of stupor to open her eyes. "Stay with me, okay?" he asked, and his eyes were worried. She saw he had removed his shirt at some point, and it was hanging on a piece of timber propped up by the fire to dry. "Come on, sit up, get moving." Filia groaned in protest, but he wasn't having any of it, sliding his hands under her arms, gripping her sides, pulling her up. She wavered unsteadily, but once he was sure she had her footing, he let go, pulling the blanket back from the hearth in preparation for another flare lance. That one seemed a bit stronger, because the rocks took on a brief red glow as the lance hit. Filia heard a short sizzling sound as he lay the still-wet blanket back over the rocks, then guided her back to her spot. Laying down again quickly, eager to get back to the heat of the fire, Filia sighed in pleased relief at the hot, moist sensation filtering up from the hearth stones. Valgaav lay down behind her, spooning his body against hers, draping his arm over her stomach and holding her close. Soon, she was as comfortable as she could possibly be in her wet garments, between the heat from the flames, the heat from the stones, and the warmth of his body pressed up all along her back. After a bit, the side she wasn't laying on, which was still somewhat exposed to the elements, began to protest at being ignored. Filia carefully rolled over onto her other side, facing Valgaav with her back to the fire. Eyes closed, she snuggled closer, nuzzling his bare chest, enjoying the sensation of his arms around her. "This is good," she mumbled, slurring her words a bit. "Feeling better?" he asked softly, and his breath was warm against her ear. "Mm-hmm." She snuggled closer and looked up at him. "Interesting afternoon." That prompted a chuckle that she felt more than heard, the sound rumbling low in his chest. Valgaav kissed her forehead, holding her tightly. "That it is." "The storm's not bad. A bit cold, but not bad." She hugged him tighter. "I can live without ever coming that close to losing you again, though." "That's twice now you've saved my life." He nuzzled her hair. "I'm gonna have to start catching up." "I'd rather avoid placing my life in peril if it's all the same to you," Filia replied wryly, and he chuckled again, planting a light kiss on her lips. "I can manage with that, I suppose." He smiled down at her, drawing a hand up to lightly brush his fingertips against her cheek. Filia leaned closer, tenderly grazing her lips against his. He closed his eyes, cupping her cheek against his hand and strengthened the kiss to where it was more tangible, but still delicate. Valgaav drew back from the kiss, looking at her worriedly. "You're still shivering," he said quietly, "and this time, I don't think it's from my kissing you." She chuckled and blushed faintly. "My side's getting cold." Valgaav studied her, thinking. "Give me a moment, I might be able to fix that." She whimpered in protest as he pulled away from her, sitting up, then opened her eyes wide as two black, feathered wings emerged from his back. They had disappeared one day after Filia was certain they were healed, and he never mentioned them, and Filia never asked. "Doesn't that hurt?" she asked him hesitantly. "Not anymore," Valgaav replied. "We've always been able to achieve a partial form. It was just the Mazoku blood in me before that had issues with my body trying to acknowledge its draconian heritage." He lay down beside her again, pulling her close, this time draping a wing over her as a blanket. "Any better?" he asked softly. "Mm-hmm." Filia nuzzled closer, getting comfortable again. "Safest place in the world." Valgaav was still for a heartbeat, then hugged her so tightly that oxygen threatened to become an issue. "Ai shiteru," he whispered. Filia's heart skipped a beat at the declaration of love so solemn and formal it was virtually a vow. She had heard it before, part of the binding ceremonies the Goldens used to hold, but those matings were arranged. The words were spoken in rote, just a part of the necessity of the process. But when Valgaav said it, it sounded worlds apart. Not in mechanical obligation, but in truth, in a voice low and husky with the strength of emotion underscoring the importance of the words themselves. "Ai shiteru," she whispered back, turning her head up to gaze at him. Valgaav kissed her again, the touch more solid, firmer than before. She kissed him back, a sense of urgency uncoiling within her, fueled by the adrenaline and storm. A low moan escaped her as their lips parted, the kiss deepening, his tongue invading her mouth to brush against her own in a tender possessiveness. Almost desperately, she clung to him, her fingers tightening against his warm skin, matching the kiss with her own hunger. She felt lightheaded, and the erratic drumming of the rain and thunder seemed distant as her world was reduced to one of sensation and touch and fire. The kiss grew in urgency, and Filia wasn't certain when they had moved, for she was now on her back, his arms under her, holding her, supporting the back of her head. She slid her arms around him, her fingers brushing against his back, tracing up his spine, circling around the base of his wings. Another kind of fire sparked and flared to life, a roiling heat low in her stomach that robbed her of her ability to breathe. Her heart stopped in her chest, then exploded in an unsteady, pounding rhythm as Valgaav's lips left hers, leaving a trail of searing kisses down her neck. Her fingers tightened against his back, forming nails that bit lightly into his skin. In response, his teeth nipped the flesh over her pulse, and a gasp caught in her throat as electricity rippled down her nerves, fueling the heat within. Filia writhed slightly on the blanket, her body moving almost on its own accord, responding to a call older than time as she nuzzled against his damp hair, kissing his cheek and forehead. She was drowning in sensation, her world reduced to mere nerves, and when it abruptly stopped, with the warmth of his body pressing down on hers disappearing, it was like breaking the surface of water into freezing air. Head reeling, she turned her gaze to look at Valgaav, who was laying on his back beside her, eyes closed, breathing heavily. She made a soft sound of question, and his amber eyes opened, focusing on hers before he leaned in to kiss her again, with more restraint. "What is it?" she whispered, snuggling closer, shivering. "Not like this, Filia," he murmured, kissing her temple and wrapping his wings around her again for warmth. "What do you mean?" "Not here. Not in a derelict building in the middle of nowhere like some illicit tryst." Valgaav brushed his fingers over her cheek. "We have a home." She blushed furiously, burying her face against his chest, causing him to chuckle. "And if you're reacting like this to a vague reference, I'm wagering you're really not ready for the reality." She curled up tighter against him, whispering an apology. He stroked her hair, cradling her close to him. "None needed at all, Filia, my love." His lips brushed her forehead, then she heard him cast a levitation spell. Looking at him curiously, he pointed to the fire. "Putting more wood on it. Are you still cold?" "Not as much as I was." "Good." He looked up, listening. "It doesn't sound like the storm's about to break anytime soon. Why don't you get some rest?" "I hope Jillas and Gravos aren't worried..." "Knowing them, they are. But we'll be home by tonight. If it's after sundown, we can just soar down, even if it's still raining. It can't storm forever." "What about you?" "What about me?" "Are you going to sleep?" "Probably." "Good." She snuggled closer, and his wings were wrapped around her like a soft, thick blanket. Safest place in the world. |
to be continued...
Chapter Twenty