The Black Collar: Chapter Twelve

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Chapter Twelve

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Kirra tried not to giggle at Alv’s misbehavior as the two of them made their way from the food court towards one of the outer rings. There was a large permanent stall there where a local baker sold a variety of pastries baked in a simple brick oven at the back of the stall. Both the oven and the stall were sheltered by a heavy canvas tarp dyed a dark blue shade. It made it look as though the pastry vendor was sitting beneath a clear evening sky even in the midst of a rain storm. Bits of straw and sticks hung down from several of the tarp’s corners where birds made nests in the supporting framework.

A young man was just placing a new tray of pastries into the wood-fired oven when the dragon approached. A bit of soot marked his face as well as his gray clothing. He turned around, wide-eyed as he spotted the dragon approaching. The baker swallowed so forcefully it seemed a wonder to Alvaranox that his stomach didn’t distend as a result. The man looked at the dragon, looked at Kirra, then at the dragon again.

“Hello, dragon,” the baker said, failing spectacularly at keeping his nervousness out of his voice. “How may I…service…you?”

“Service me?” Alvaranox blinked, pulling his horned head back till his neck curled in an S. “I prefer females.”

“Alv,” Kirra said, swatting him on the neck.

The dragon ignored her. He grinned down as the baker’s face twisted in confusion. “But you may go and try the lamb.”

“The lamb?” The man turned his attention to Kirra, hoping the dragon’s Handler could make sense of the monster’s cryptic remarks. Did the dragon always talk in riddles?

“Nevermind,” Kirra said, giving the baker a polite smile. “We’d like some fruit tarts.” Then before the man could ask for any more specifics, Kirra went on. May as well make this quick before Alvaranox decided to make things even more difficult. “Two each of whatever kinds you have today.”

The vendor quickly wrapped up the tarts in parchment, and passed them to Kirra. Kirra tucked them all away inside her basket alongside the lamb then handed the vendor a few coins. She thanked him and strode away from the stall. When the dragon did not immediately follow, she turned back to look at him a moment until he padded after her.

“Aren’t we going to eat those?” Alvaranox said, adding a whimper for emphasis.

“Are you still hungry?” Kirra asked. As the dragon walked up to her, she pulled a single tart from the basket and unwrapped it. She offered it up to Alvaranox “Here. You can have one. The rest we’ll eat when we get back home. Unless you want to linger in the market and see how crowded it gets.”

“No.” Alvaranox snorted, flaring his spines.

The dragon knew Kirra was just teasing him but he still didn’t like the idea. Despite his years serving this town, and his weeks recovering from injury, he did not like being amongst a crowd of humans any more now than he did when he was first collared. The more humans who surrounded him, the more uncomfortable he felt. The closer they pressed in around his scaly body, the more nervous the dragon became. Alvaranox looked around, flicking his spined tail. Already there were more people into the market than there had been when he’d arrived. The sooner he returned to the relative solitude of his home the better.

Alvaranox took the tart from Kirra’s hand in his teeth. Alvaranox was certainly careful not to let sharp teeth scrape soft flesh even if the idea of biting Kirra’s hand certainly amused him. The dragon seemed to recall the humans had a saying about that, though he couldn’t recall how it went. He crunched up the tart, gave a happy purr as the sweet fruits washed over his tongue, and then gulped it down.

“Aww, you purred over your dessert,” Kirra said, smirking as she rubbed the dragon’s cheek. “How adorable.”

“I did no such thing.” Alvaranox butted his head against her hard enough to make her stumble. How dare she suggest he purred.

Kirra glared at him when she caught her balance. “You’re lucky this basket is full of food, or I’d smack you over the head with it.”

“I’m lucky you’re not Nylah, or you’d twist my ears till they popped right off.” Alvaranox began to hobble away from Kirra, heading to the edge of the market. “Now come along. I wish to be home again. Being among humans is starting to make me feel like I’ve got mites crawling under my scales.”

“Perhaps you do.”

“I have not had mites in years, Kirra.” Alvaranox flared his spines, glaring at a portly man nearby. The man gave the dragon a dopey grin and a friendly wave. That only made Alvaranox scowl further. “And when I did have scale mites, it was because someone gave me a blanket infested with the damn things.”

“Well it wasn’t that old man, so stop glaring at him,” Kirra said. Her voice was soft, and her touch was softer as she laid her hand upon the dragon’s neck.

“I am glaring because he should be afraid of me.” The dragon licked the golden spot at the end of his nose, sighing. He met Kirra’s eyes for a moment. “No one in this town is ever afraid of me. I could walk up to him and roar in his face, and he’d just smile at me like an idiot. Probably ask me if I wanted something for my breath. Everyone knows I’m harmless, Kirra. Because of this.” The dragon lifted his head as if to display the ebony collar that ringed his neck. “It is…embarrassing. It is humiliating. I feel like an old hound who’s lost his teeth, so no one fears his bite.”

“You’d rather you had people cowering in fear from you? You want to fly over the town, give a roar and laugh as everyone scrambles for shelter?” Kirra stroked the scales of his neck. “Isn’t that the sort of thing that gave dragons a bad reputation in the first place? Would you really be so quick to land in the midst of Asterryl and terrify everyone? Demand they bring you tribute or be incinerated?”

“…I don’t know,” Alvaranox said, sighing to himself. He tightened his wings against his body as if trying to shelter himself from a sudden chill. “I never had the chance to try it. I was too young to properly scare anyone when I was collared, and now that I’m grown, no one here has a reason to fear me.”

“You put a scare into that woman who ran the bakery,” Kirra said, trying to offer a little support. “And the vendors seemed nervous.”

“I startled the baker, and the other two were probably just worried the city would revoke their licenses if they did not appease their guardian.” Alvaranox hobbled along a few steps. Nearby a black and white cat lounged in the sun atop a large wooden barrel. It stared at the dragon, tail tip twitching. Even the animals were not afraid of him here. Just like the goats who shared the pasture he’d lounged in lately. Well, he’d show them. Once he took to his wings again he was going to eat those damn goats. “I am a dragon, Kirra. I should be feared and respected. The fact I am not merely reminds me of my place here.”

“People care about you here, Alv.” Kirra moved around to stand in front of him, gently rubbing his muzzle when he did not pull his head away.

“Do they, Kirra?” Alvaranox left his muzzle in Kirra’s hands, closing his eyes for a moment. “Or are they just happy I’m here to keep them safe at night?”

“They care, Alv,” Kirra said, insistence creeping into her voice as she stroked his pebbly scales. “Look at the flowers and the gifts people sent you. Look at the way the tavern owners treat you. They like having you come to drink their wine. I think that man selling tarts was in awe of you. And that woman in the bakery? She was genuinely pleased you liked her food!”

“A handful of treats and a few kind words do not remove the collar, Kirra.”

Kirra pursed her lips, shaking her head. “I’m telling you Alv, people care about you.”

“People care about their hounds, too.” The dragon turned his head, watching the guards who trailed them at a distance. They did not seem close enough to hear the conversation. “I am nothing more than a guard dog to them.”

“There’s more to it than that.” Kirra waved at the plaza behind the dragon. “People have changed, Alv. The town has changed. You just don’t want to see it.”

“What does it matter, Kirra?” Alvaranox pulled his head back, his neck curling a little. “Unless this collar comes off, and I can choose whether or not I wish to stay here, I am still their slave. Just because they do not treat me with the same open contempt their parents did does not mean I do not remember it. You can treat a slave kindly but until you set him free, you are still a slave owner.” Then the dragon amended himself, nosing at Kirra’s cheek as her expression fell. “I do not mean you, Kirra. I know you truly would set me free if you could.”

Kirra smiled a little. She lifted her hand and rubbed at the golden blotch on the dragon’s nose. “I think many people in town would do the same.”

“I doubt that,” the dragon said, hissing. “I think most of them are oblivious to the fact I am a slave. They delude themselves with small acts of kindness to feel as though they care. If they don’t see a slave when they look upon me, they will not feel guilt when they close their eyes at night.”

“I don’t know that…”

“Kirra,” the dragon said sharply, nudging her with his muzzle. “Before you were my handler, before you got to know me. When you were young, and you saw me flying in the skies. Did you look at me and see a slave? Or did you simply see the fascinating dragon who’d always been there to protect your town?”

Kirra swallowed hard, and her eyes fell. That was all the answer Alvaranox needed. “You see? I was a slave and a monster when I was first brought here. Now I don’t even rate enough concern for that.”

“I don’t think that’s true, Alv.” Kirra’s voice softened and her eyes lingered upon her own feet.

“Look at it this way, Kirra.” Alvaranox eased himself down onto his haunches, glaring at the black and white cat lounging nearby. “If you went to the moors, and caught a wolf. If you brought it into town and beat it until it was tame. If you tied it to a post in the hot sun, people may stop and pat it on the head. People may leave it a bowl of water or a bit of food.” The dragon lifted his spines, growling. “But do they untie it? Do they set it free? No. Showing it a bit of kindness without actually helping it does not mean they care. It means they are oblivious.”

“Alright, Alv.” Kirra balled her hands up into fists, knuckles white around the handle of the basket. She looked away. She blinked a few times, unable to meet the dragon’s gaze. “I understand…”

“That is me, Kirra.” Alvaranox stared at her, his spined tail swishing back and forth. The dragon thought Kirra needed to know how he felt, even if it meant hammering his point home with the spikes of his tail. “I am the wolf they dragged in from the wilds. They beat me into submission and tied me to their gates to be their guard dog. No one bothers to think about how the guard dog feels. They reward him for doing the job they force upon him, but all he really wants is for someone to untie that rope.”

The dragon took a deep breath, his chest plates expanding. He held it as long as he could, and finally heaved a sigh. “All the kind words and gentle gestures in the world will not set me free. Unless the people are willing to open their eyes and acknowledge that they hold me as their slave, I see no reason to acknowledge their concern. If they cannot see that this slavery is torture for me, then they cannot care that deeply. You and Nylah are different. You understand, and you truly care. But the rest of them…” The dragon snarled, lashing his tail into a wooden crate that exploded into splinters beneath the impact. “I would rather have their fear than their oblivious concern.”

Kirra snapped at the dragon before she could stop herself. “But wouldn’t you rather be cared about than feared?”

The dragon pulled his wedge shaped head away from Kirra’s hand. “I would rather have been left alone to live my life.”

Kirra sighed. The basket nearly fell from her fingers. After a moment, she turned away, her red dress swishing around her feet as she walked off. Alvaranox watched her for a moment, guilt tugging at his heart. Kirra’s words were a double-edged knife. When they cut him, Kirra felt the pain as well. Kirra seemed to have a talent for putting her foot into a pile of dung even when stepping over a puddle.

Alvaranox grit his jaw as Kirra trudged away from him. The gentle pull of guilt around his heart was quickly blossoming into a heavy anchor. All Kirra wanted to do was show Alvaranox he was cared for around the town, and in return he’d practically pushed her into the gutter along with the rest of Asterryl. The dragon had not meant to hurt the woman any more than she’d meant to hurt him. He just wanted her to understand how he felt.

Alvaranox hobbled up alongside Kirra. He lowered his head and slipped it beneath her free hand. She came to a stop and glanced down at him. Her green eyes looked a little bloodshot, her face reddened. She seemed as guilt stricken by her own words as Alvaranox was for his reaction to them. The dragon parted his jaws and gave her palm and fingers a small lick.

The feeling of the dragon’s tongue against her skin tickled a small giggle out of Kirra. She tried to keep herself from smiling, murmuring. “Cut it out, Alv.”

“Not until you stop moping.”

“I’m not moping,” Kirra said, her tone and downcast eyes practically an admission of just that.

“You are,” the dragon insisted, licking her fingers once again.

Kirra giggled a little louder than before, pulling her hand away from the dragon’s muzzle. “So are you. I’ll stop if you do.”

Alvaranox thumped his tail against the cobbled street of the mostly deserted lane. His tail spines clattered against the stone as he gave a dramatic sigh. “If I must.”

“You must,” Kirra said, turning to smile at him. Already her countenance was brightening. It wasn’t like the dragon to try and cheer her up after she’d done something foolish to sully his mood. His attempts were a bit bumbling but the fact he made the effort was enough to lighten her spirits. “If I don’t get to mope, then neither do you.”

“So be it, Kirra.” Alvaranox hobbled a few steps forward, deciding their conversation was best forgotten as quickly as possible. He curled his spined tail around Kirra’s middle. She gave a little yelp and found herself stumbling forward as the dragon kept walking. “This way.”

“Watch those spines dragon!” Kirra swatted at one of them. “And do mind the basket.”

“I don’t know what you’re protesting about.” Alvaranox tossed his head, splaying out his frilled green ears. “I wouldn’t ever risk damaging lamb and fruit tarts.”

“What about damaging me?” Kirra switched the basket to her other hand, walking along behind the dragon in time with his own hobbling steps.

“I haven’t injured you yet, so odds seem fair I won’t injure you in the future.” Alvaranox flattened his black-marked wings against his back, turning his head to grin over them at Kirra. “Besides, someone has to make sure you don’t go wandering off, sticking your head into random bakeries again.”

“Oh no, you don’t get to shift the blame to me,” Kirra said, giggling. “If you continue to wander off, I’m going to have to find a way to clip a leash to that collar of yours like a dog on a walk.

Alvaranox cringed a moment. Such a thing was impossible, given that the collar lacked any clasps or buckles. He heard Kirra suck in a sharp breath, her instant regret palpable. She knew he hated being referred to as an animal almost as much as he hated being reminded of the collar. But if he wasn’t going to get to sulk, then neither was she.

Before Kirra could babble an apology, the dragon cut her off. “Perhaps instead I should put a collar around your neck and leash you for a while. You might appreciate my situation a little more.”

Kirra found herself giggling at the mental image. “That sounds a bit naughtier than I suspect you intended it, Dragon. Is that the sort of thing you like to do with your females?”

Alvaranox merely snorted, tossing his head again. “Kiss my green stones, Kirra.”

Kirra stroked the scales of his coiled tail as she walked behind him. “Kiss them? From here I could just about kick them, instead.”

Alvaranox straightened his neck, wings flaring in alarm. “You do and I’ll drop you in the lake!”

Kirra laughed at that, rubbing his tail a little more. Alvaranox expected another snappy retort, and when he didn’t get one, he turned his head to peer at her once again. Kirra watched him, a thoughtful expression etched across her face. After a moment, she offered the dragon a smile. “Thank you.”

Alvaranox lifted his frills in confusion. “For threatening to drop you in the lake?”

“No,” Kirra said, giggling. “For trying to cheer me up just then. And for not holding the stupid things I say against me. I know I say an awful lot of them.”

You certainly do. Alvaranox opened his mouth to speak those words, but let them die on his tongue instead. It would not do either of them any good to bruise the woman’s feelings any further. He licked his nose, and slowly uncurled his tail from around her. Kirra wriggled free and moved up alongside the dragon’s shoulder. She rubbed the base of his neck a moment, and Alvaranox simply watched her.

“You also try very hard not to say those things,” Alvaranox said after a moment of reflection. “And you bathe yourself in guilt when you say them anyway.” He took a breath, sighing through his nose. “For whatever it’s worth, Kirra, I appreciate your friendship. You’re right. It is better to be cared about than feared. It’s nice to know that at least two people in this place care about me as more than their Guardian Slave.” He began to hobble forward, snapping his teeth. “And if you tell Nylah I suggested that you and I are friends, I shall bite you on the ass.”

The warmth Kirra felt from the dragon’s words shone through in her smile, and in her playful teasing. “I’ll just tell her you’re a dirty old beast who wants to lead me around on a leash, then.”

Alvaranox smirked to himself. “I’m not old, Kirra.”

“Is that your way of admitting to the rest of it?”

Alvaranox snorted, rustling his wings. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“You’re the expert on self-flattery, dragon, always singing your own praises.”

The dragon chuckled low in his throat. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Nylah, I see. You’re starting to pick up her swift wit.”

Kirra and the dragon made their way back through Asterryl towards the outskirts. Kirra guided them through several side streets to help Alvaranox avoid feeling surrounded by humans as the town grew a little busier in the afternoon hours. Several times they passed through some of the ancient walls that had long since been reincorporated into the town’s design. Some of the streets passed through open gaps in the wall where the bricks had simply been removed. Other stretches of road ran through old gates and archways that remained standing, if in need of repair.

One old archway was built of stacked chunks of misshapen limestone. The top of the arch had long since crumbled and been replaced with a crisscrossing wooden trellis. Ivy vines with star-shaped leaves wreathed the archway, and patches of emerald moss clung to the old limestone blocks. Alvaranox ducked his head and tucked his wings tight to his body to squeeze through the gateway. Tendrils of hanging ivy tickled his wings. As he passed through the gap in the wall, the collar gave a nearly imperceptible buzzing around his neck. Though faint, the sensation made the dragon shiver.

Kirra heard Alvaranox’s scales click, and glanced back at him. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” Alvaranos said, flicking his tail against the old archway as though blaming it for some malfunction of the collar that bound him. His tail spines chipped the stone.

“I heard your scales do that clicky-thing they do when you shiver,” Kirra said, folding her arms. “Now what’s wrong?”

“Perhaps I just felt a chill,” Alvaranox said, lightly bumping her with his head. “Keep walking.” When Kirra took a few steps, Alvaranox continued after her. “The collar just…buzzed a little, that’s all. When I passed through that archway.” He smirked at Kirra as she scowled in concern. “Don’t worry. You probably just broke it when you made it revive me.”

“Very funny,” Kirra replied, swatting playfully at the dragon’s nose. “That is odd, though.”

“At this point I am growing used to the collar doing unexplainable things.”

As they passed through the outer districts of Asterryl, the dragon kept watch. He half expected to see men in silver armor and or oiled rain cloaks charging at him from the alleyways. He focused on the collar, asking it for a threat, but got no reply. He doubted there was anything for him to worry about. It had taken to sending him odd signals lately after all. Chiming when Kirra told it she wouldn’t let it erase his memories, tolling in the distant corners of his mind when he considered how large the town had gotten. Buzzing when he passed through ancient archways.

“Stupid collar,” the dragon said, gritting his teeth. “Just make sense already.”

They passed a long, two story inn with walls painted a bright, sky blue shade and spiraling designs in black wooden framework roaming across them. Alvaranox looked the place over. He’d passed by it before. The back of the building abutted up against a section of the same wall they’d just passed through. The inn had a covered patio out front serving their tavern, a few of the tables were occupied with groups of laughing patrons. Some of them looked up at the dragon and waved. Others just stared. The dragon ignored them. Movement from an upstairs window caught his eye. Someone was watching him from one of the rooms in the inn, but as soon as the dragon looked up the gray curtains fell closed.

Alvaranox hissed through his teeth.

“Now what?” Kirra asked, though her tone was concerned, not exasperated.

“Just being paranoid,” the dragon admitted, licking his nose. “Saw someone watching me from one of the inn rooms. But when I looked up, they closed the curtains. It may have just been a child.”

“Probably just a traveler.” Kirra scowled, giving it a moment of thought.

Kirra turned and waved at their guards. Davan approached them, and Kirra explained what the dragon saw. After the assassination attempt, Kirra didn‘t want to take chances. Neither did Davan. He vanished into the inn. While they waited, Kirra stroked the scutes upon Alv’s wounded foreleg where the cloth of the sling gave way and exposed them.

Ravel returned after a tense few minutes. Relief had already relaxed his face. “You were right, it was just a kid,” Davan said, resting a hand on his sword. “Family of merchants. Never seen a dragon before.”

Alvaranox smirked. “Thank you, Davan. I suppose I cannot fault him for wanting to bask in my magnificence.”

Kirra shook her head as she started walking again. “I imagine most travelers are curious about you. You know, not every town has their own dragon.”

“Thank the gods for that,” Alvaranox said, laughing a little. “As far as I know, Asterryl is the only town that does.”

“If any other town does, it would be news to me.” Kirra shrugged, switching the basket to her other hand as they neared the edge of town. Soon the only buildings that surrounded them were half constructed. A few of them still had workers scrabbling over the framework, pounding in nails or lashing things together. “But then again I’ve never visited any of the other towns, so I wouldn’t really know.”

Alvaranox tilted his head as he followed after Kirra. He pinned his frilled ears back against his head, trying to drown out the sound of construction and the ignorant voices calling out for his attention. “Never? Why not?”

Kirra turned to face the dragon, walking backwards a few paces. Her red dress swished about her body. “Never had a reason to. When I was young, I was always helping my family make a living here in town. After that, I started learning the healing arts from Nylah. Was thinking about being a doctor, or perhaps a vendor. I’d always enjoyed wandering the shores of the Lake of Teeth and roaming the nearest moors for herbs and mushrooms and things. Then once Nylah took an interest in having me succeed her as your Handler, that was pretty much it. Had a lot to learn before she was willing to make the change official.”

Alvaranox lifted his frills a bit, nostrils flaring as if he was sniffing out the true emotions behind her words. “Your parents…they are…”

“Not around,” Kirra said. Her tone made it clear she had no desire to discuss it further.

Alvaranox simply nodded in understanding. “Do you not wish to see other towns? Other places?”

“I’d love to, yes,” Kirra said, coming to a stop long enough to stroke Alvaranox’s muzzle. “Perhaps when you’re healed I’ll have you fly me around to all the other towns.”

“Good idea,” Alvaranox said, smirking. “Let’s see how much we can really piss off the collar.”

“Won’t it let you fly that far?”

“Doubtful. Though…” The dragon shrugged his wings in uncertainty. “I’ve never had a handler order me to do so, either. If nothing else, I can certainly fly you out over the moors. Show you some of the wild beauty I hatched into. Oh, and there are plenty of desolate ruins I could show you. Those are very exciting.”

Kirra giggled to herself as she started walking again. “You could take me to your island.”

“Don’t press your luck, Kirra.” Alvaranox growled at her, though the mirth that flickered in his copper eyes undermined the threat significantly. “That place is mine and mine alone.”

“Fine,” Kirra said, waving her hand. “I’ll just swim out there on my own.”

“You couldn’t swim that far.”

“Care to wager, dragon?” Kirra held the basket in the crook of her elbow, undulating her other arm in the air as if mimicking her swimming motions. “I happen to be an excellent swimmer.”

“If you drown in the attempt Nylah shall be quite cross with you.”

“Are you saying you wouldn’t be?”

“Might be nice to get a little peace and quiet.” Alvaranox pushed his horned head against her back, laughing. “Though I’d miss having you buy me treats.”

Kirra let the dragon nudge her forward before she trotted out of range. “I should hope you’d also miss my sparkling personality.”

“I might.” The dragon snorted, flaring his spines. “If you had one.”

“I most certainly do!” Kirra stomped her foot, laughing.

“You shine as much as a lump of coal, Kirra.”

Kirra tossed her red hair over a shoulder as if imitating Alv’s head-tossing. “Well you’re ugly and poorly endowed, especially for a dragon.”

“What?!” Alvaranox stared at her a moment, and then burst out laughing. “That was pretty good actually. The sort of insult a female dragon would use.”

“Thank you,” Kirra said, giving a little bow as they walked along the path quickly turning from cobblestone to dirt.

“Of course, you’re also quite incorrect. By dragon standards, I am ferociously handsome and impressively endowed.”

“I didn’t know dragons had such low standards.”

Alvaranox chuckled to himself. “You really are starting to sound like Nylah. Though you don’t call me a drunken lout enough yet.”

“Shall I work on that?”

“No,” the dragon said, grinning. “I am trying to wean myself off Nylah, remember?”

“Then I suppose you’d like me to send her home, hmm?” Kirra leaned up against the willow-bough fence surrounding the verdant meadow in which Alv spent much of his convalescence sunning himself. She waved the basket towards Nylah. The older woman was seated in the grass, surrounded by reams of colored yarn. She was busy with her darning, working on another new pillow for Alvaranox. “I can go give her the lamb we brought her and tell her to get her bony old ass out of your pasture, if you like.”

Alvaranox gasped in horror, staring down at Kirra with wide copper eyes. After a moment the young woman burst out laughing. Alvaranox snarled when he realized he’d been had. It was rare for Kirra to pull one over on him like that. Kirra just kept laughing and walked along the fence till she reached the opening that lead into the meadow. “Oh, Alv. You should have seen your face. Your eyes bugged out so far I thought I’d have a set of big copper marbles to play with when they rolled out of their sockets.”

“That is a far more disturbing image than I needed to hear, Kirra,” Alvaranox said as he hobbled after her. “I’m going to tell Nylah what you said about her.”

Alvaranox limped across the grass. By the time he reached Nylah, his body was an aching mess. The dragon had ignored the strain of walking upon a single foreleg for most of his trip, but now that the journey was over every muscle he had seemed to scream at him. The healing wounds in the meat of his paw and deep in his belly throbbed steadily. Alvaranox fought the urge to simply flop down in fatigue cause he didn’t want to jar his injuries. He eased himself down onto the warm grass and rolled to his side. The dragon splayed his black mottled wings over the grass and wildflowers that surrounded him.

“Hello, Alv,” Nylah said when the dragon got comfortable. She smiled at him, but did not stop her knitting. “Enjoy the market?”

“I enjoyed the food, if not the imbeciles doling it out,” the dragon said. He carefully stretched himself out, one fore leg still bound up against his body with the white cloth sling. “Kirra says you have a bony old ass.”

Kirra sputtered and coughed. She hadn’t expected Alv to actually say that. Nylah meanwhile simply raised a single brow, looking over at Kirra. Her frizzy gray hair rustled around her head in the breeze. “Does she then?”

“I was only joking about your ass,” Kirra insisted. The moment she realized what she said, she tried to steady her course only to veer further and further from the road. “I mean, not that I was going around talking about your ass. Or that you’re old. Or bony. I was only joking! After all you’re not that old and I’m sure your ass isn’t that bony yet. Wait, I mean, not that it ever will be…”

With every word that stumbled from her tongue, Kirra’s face grew redder, her ears hotter. Alvaranox started to laugh. It began as a growling chuckle and soon erupted into a roaring cascade of draconic laughter. “Kirra, stop!” He said, struggling to catch his breath. “You’re going to make me laugh so hard I open up my belly again!”

“Do quit while you’re ahead, Kirra,” Nylah said, smiling at the younger woman a moment. “No need to encourage him.”

Kirra scowled, her face nearly purple with embarrassment and a quickly building flash of anger. The dragon didn’t have to humiliate her like that. Then again, it wasn’t exactly Alvaranox’s fault she’d blurted all that out. Usually when she did that, it was something upsetting to the dragon, not embarrassing to herself. And Nylah didn’t seem to mind.

Alvaranox kept laughing and laughing. He thumped his tail against the ground, tearing chunks of sod with his spines. The dragon laughed so hard his ribs ached, and the pain in his belly got a little sharper. Still, it was worth it to the beast. He could certainly use the laughter. For a few moments he laughed so hard he could scarcely see through bleary eyes. He lifted his good paw to try and wipe away tears.

“Alv,” Kirra said, her voice sharp enough to draw his attention.

Alvaranox turned his head towards her, expecting an angry rebuke. Instead, a fruit tart splattered against his face, right between the dragon’s eyes. Sweet berry jam caked the pebbly green scales of his snout, and pastry crumbs flew into his eyes. The dragon gave a high-pitched squeal of shock, jerking his horned head back.

“AAAAAACK!” Alvaranox frantically shook his head, trying to clear the stuff from his face. He grabbed at one of his eyes with a paw. “There’s crumbs in my eyes!”

Now it was the women’s turn to laugh. Both of them were nearly doubled over in an instant. Kirra clutched her ribs, stumbling around a little as she tried not to let her laughter fell her. Nylah was already seated so she just hunched over a bit, her gray hair hanging all around her face.

Alvaranox rubbed at his eyes, blinking. Both the dragon’s brilliant copper eyes were watering and stinging thanks to the crumbs. “You’ve blinded me! There’s pastry shrapnel embedded in my eyes.”

“Good shot, Kirra,” Nylah said, her laughter slowly dying down to giggles. Hardly the ringing condemnation Alvaranox hoped for.

“Thanks a lot, Old Lady,” the dragon said with a snort.

“Call me Old Lady again and I’ll have her hurl another one at you.”

“Alright,” Alvaranox snorted, gnashing his teeth. “Truce then! Stop wasting those. They’re too delicious to use as projectiles.”

Kirra fetched a bucket of water and a cloth. She wet the cloth and walked over to the dragon. “Give me your head you silly beast.”

Alvaranox stretched his neck out towards Kirra knelt as she set the bucket in the grass. “That was a good shot, actually.”

“Thank you,” Kirra said, giggling. She began to wipe the dragon’s muzzle and face down with the cloth, washing away the lingering smears of berry jam. Mostly. “I think it’s stained your scales.”

“What?” Alvaranox crossed his eyes, trying to see the marks on his face.

“The jam was red, so it’s sort of mixed with your green scales and left a few purple marks.”

“Then wash them off,” the dragon said, hissing.

“I’m trying,” Kirra said, though her continued laughter spoke of how concerned she really was about leaving the dragon a little more colorful than before.

Nylah set her pillow aside, and rose up to inspect Kirra’s work. “Sort of a flower pattern, right between his eyes. Where his snout meets his head.”

“Damn it, I am a dragon!” Alvaranox thumped his good paw against the ground, and lashed his tail. “I cannot have a flower pattern on my face.”

“You can, and you will, cause it’s not coming off.” Kirra set the cloth down, grinning. “Don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll wear off in a day or two.”

“Or a week,” Nylah added, then picked up the basket and took it to the wooden table with bench seats set up nearby. “Now, what else have you brought?”

“Lamb!” Kirra said, rising up to follow Nylah. The two women ignored the dragon’s complaints until he grew tired of lodging them. “It’s delicious too.”

When it became clear to the dragon that neither of them were listening to him any longer, he rose back up to three paws and hobbled to the table as well. Then he stuck his head right between the two women, attempting to glare at them both. “Dragons do not like being ignored.”

“Poor baby,” Nylah cooed to him. She leaned against the dragon’s head, draping her arm over him just behind his ridged black horns. With her other hand, she gently stroked his muzzle, tracing little circles around the golden blotch upon his pebbly scaled nose. “How are you feeling, Alv? This is the most activity you’ve had since you were wounded.”

Alvaranox rumbled in his chest. He wanted to tell her that he felt fine. That he was ready to be rid of all these damn bandages, stitches, and the sling for good. The truth was the trip had worn him out, and his wounds still ached. They were healing well, but half a day spent in town told the dragon he was not as quite fully recovered yet.

“Tired,” he said softly. He would let Nylah lean against his neck as long as she wanted. “And sore. And my wounds are starting to itch.”

“Itching means you’re healing,” Nylah said. “So don’t scratch at them. Honestly, Alv, as frustrating as this has all been for you, you should be very glad. You’re healing very fast. If a human suffered the same wounds you did I doubt he’d even be able to get out of bed yet. You dragons are very fast healers.”

“Not fast enough,” the dragon muttered. Then he smiled a little bit, a soft purr creeping up his throat as Nylah caressed the scales of his muzzle. “We brought you lamb, Nylah.” He didn’t care that Kirra had already told the old lady. He wanted to tell her himself. She…meant something to him. “And fruit tarts.”

“Yes, I noticed the tarts when Kirra hurled one at your head.”

Alvaranox chose to ignore that. “The lamb is excellent. I have been told to tell everyone that, but I’d have said as much to you anyway. I think you will enjoy it.”

“Thank you for bringing it then,” Nylah said, patting the dragon’s neck. “Let me get some, and then I’ll join you on the grass. I’ll bring your tarts over as well, alright?”

Alvaranox nodded. When Nylah straightened up he withdrew his head. Kirra shifted her weight back and forth a little, fidgeting with the scarlet half sleeves of her dress. Alvaranox settled back on his haunches nearby, curling his spined tail around his paws. “It was Kirra’s idea to bring it back for you.”

Nylah probably already knew that, but Kirra seemed happy to hear the dragon say it out loud. Kirra smiled. She gave the dragon a warm glance when Nylah thanked her for her thoughtfulness. Nylah soon gathered up the lamb wrapped in parchment and walked over to the dragon. She sat down alongside him, leaning up against his haunch. Nylah leaned her head back against the dragon‘s green scales, her smiling face framed by layers of frizzy gray hair.

Nylah reached up, offering the dragon a tart. “Here. This one is blackberry, I think. Your favorite.”

Alvaranox smiled at the woman, and delicately took the tart from her hand with his teeth. He tossed his head back, snapping it up, then gave a heavy sigh of pleasure at the sweet, familiar flavor of the blackberry jam that filled it. His favorite of all flavors he’d grown accustomed to while being stuck in Asterryl. As he savored it, Nylah began to eat some of the roast lamb they’d brought her, murmuring in delight.

“Oh, this is wonderful!” Nylah beamed up at the dragon, then at Kirra. “Thank you both for bringing it.”

“You’re welcome,” Kirra said, giving the green dragon and older woman a little smile. She nibbled on one of the other fruit tarts, leaning against the bench.

Alvaranox watched her a moment, then glanced down at Nylah. The sun was warm against his scaly back and the leathery membranes of his wings as he stretched them out. Strange. He felt unusually at peace in that moment. Simply sharing company with the two humans who had become his only real companions in this place. Whenever Nylah and Kirra were with him, the barrel in which he was always trapped felt just a little larger.

A little more like home.

The dragon sighed. Such emotions made him feel soft and sentimental. He was a dragon. He was supposed to be furious. He was supposed to be above needs for simple friendship with humans. He should not strive for or accept companionship with anything other than another dragon. Yet he was also supposed to be free.

The Guardian Slave would never be free. Perhaps it was not so bad for him to accept companionship wherever he might find it.

Alvaranox turned his head to smile down at Nylah. He stretched a wing out to his side, then draped it across the woman like a warm blanket. Nylah accepted the gesture, snuggling up against Alvaranox’s black-mottled haunch. Alvaranox wondered if she actually understood the comforting intimacy for a dragon of wrapping another beneath his wings. To accept them as a friend, and offer them shelter from the world.

Kirra rustled around in the basket, fetching herself another tart. She leaned against the picnic table, staring off into the distance while she nibbled the treat. It almost seemed as though she did not wish to intrude on what was a semi-private moment between the dragon and his former handler. Yet it was not a gesture Alvaranox intended to reserve solely for Nylah. Not anymore. As Nylah so often said, Kirra was his handler now. Kirra was also his friend.

Alvaranox opened his other wing, half curling it around an empty space. He cleared his throat with a little growl to get Kirra’s attention. “Come along, then. My other wing isn’t going to cuddle itself.”

Kirra’s face brightened. A radiant smile stretched over her lips. She picked up the basket and quickly trotted over to the dragon. She plopped herself down on the grass, snuggling up against the dragon’s side opposite Nylah. Alvaranox slowly closed his wing around her. Kirra soon offered him a tart just as Nylah had, and the dragon gently took it the same way.

After that the dragon gave a happy sigh. He gazed around. Davan and the other guards were at a distance. Hopefully they were too far to see how cuddly the dragon was acting. Alvaranox took a deep breath, and let it out in a long sigh. At least for one evening, the Guardian Slave was completely at peace.

Not that he’d ever admit it.

“If either of you ever tell anyone I let you cuddle me, I shall bite you both on the ass.”