A/N: Romance ahead, be warned. What kind? I'll never tellXD
Start
Scott’s head throbbed in unison with his heart beat. He groaned, acknowledging the absent pain that was slowly haunting his consciousness. Never opening his eyes, he moved to cradle his aching head only to have something cold bite into his wrists, followed by the sonorous notes of metal that echoed his movements.
He was chained.
Immediately he forced his eyes wide open, completely ignoring his mind-splitting headache. And yet, everything around him was black as a starless evening.
"Whistle?" his voice cracked from misuse. He rolled to his feet only to gasp when something bit into his ribs, countering his actions. He fell back to the damp ground, his joints giving way.
"Drostan?" he hollered a little louder as his mind began to register the fact that wherever he was not a safe place to be in. He began calling out the names of his Dragoon as he flailed in his chains feebly trying to break free. His muscles strained against the thick metal before he began banging them against the ground, confident in his own strength.
It would have been easier if he could see what he was doing. But for some sick joke fate decided to play on him, it wasn’t the case.
"I see you're awake," said a deep rumbling voice that reverberated against the floor he lay on.
"Oh no, I'm still dilly-dallying in dreamland--of course I'm awake!" Scott snarled blindly at the source of sound. He did not need someone to state the condition he was currently in. It was like being told to do something he was already about to do.
The voice hummed thoughtfully, “you must be from Pendragon, I presume,”
“Are you here to help me out or are we just going to talk all day long?” Scott was rolling his head against the sharp rocks beneath him in attempts to divert his attention from his internal pain.
“We are about to do the latter, if you must know,” said the voice, Scott could feel a malicious grin in his tone, “I have quite a few questions to ask you,”
Scott groaned, “you have got to be kidding me,”
XXX
After a very proper ceremonial farewell march from Blouyein--which mainly consisted of boats sailing beneath them as they soared away--they finally began their journey to Mellador, the Land of Valor.
There was a sheet of gauche silence as thick as the morning fog that hung over the group as they all watched Scott maneuver Whistle restlessly over and under Drostan’s dragon.
It was Morschell who had crept up to Drostan as he sat himself down behind the driver’s seat as he whispered, “should we ask about Whistle’s sudden hostility?”
From this, Drostan sighed. As inevitable as it was, they all knew that they eventually had to ask Scott a few questions for his dragon’s inexcusable behavior. They were lucky his dragon misbehaved in a very forgiving Kingdom. But should his dragon act like such in Mellador or Phoen, it was a grave sin.
“Scott,” Drostan said aloud. When the redhead didn’t seem to hear, him he maneuvered his dragon so that the carriage scooped the smaller one up like a net catching fish. Luina and Galvus quickly retreated to Morschell as Whistle and Scott tumbled in the sturdy vessel like toys tossed out of a jar.
“What was that for?” Scott snapped, quickly recovering from landing on his face. Whistle snorted irritably and shook his body like a wet dog before quickly taking off to fly independently as if it were in a hurry to distance himself from the group.
Drostan looked over the driver’s seat, propping an elbow on his backrest, “you need to keep your dragon in check,”
"Sure," Scott shrugged, dusting his hands and pants as he rose to his feet. Luina and Morschell exchanged glances as they watched Scott stand on the wooden railing best served as their back rests. The watched the redhead look at the earth below his nose before raising his arms to the side and slowly let himself fall.
Luina let out a petrified scream as Morschell dove for Scott only to be held back by Galvus with a firm arm.
"Calm down," Drostan sighed, shaking his head. Before the innocent Dragooners could retaliate, they heard Scott whooping in delight as Whistle spiraled around Drostan's Dragon quite arrogantly. The big beast remained unfazed as he focused on their airborne course.
Luina clicked her tongue and shoved her arms to her front and crossed them, "what in the name of heavens was he thinking? "
Morschell slid limply to the ground, turning his pale face to them, "I thought we almost lost him,"
"What if we already did?" Drostan thought aloud. His brows knitted together, surprising himself more than it did the trio behind him.
"What do you mean?" Luina watched the back of Drostan's blonde head, failing to digest what their leader's mentor had said. It was impossible, for Scott was just with them familiarizing himself with more maneuvers and pushing his dragon for a top speed that had yet to be discovered.
Drostan sighed and shook his head, "after managing to pull off that faux stunt, what if the fame was slowly getting to his head? What more when everyone in the world went crazy over him. Do you think he would manage the attention and remember himself?"
"Hey guys," Scott said landing on the carriage smoothly on his feet with a firm thud. The strings of his tunic were undone leaving the median dip of his strong collarbone bare to them, "what's up?"
"Where's your whistle?" Luina immediately took note of this as she eyed the absence of his silver necklace that she gave him.
Scott grinned with an oozing appeal, it was the kind that frightened Luina for it elicited a flutter of beats from her heart, hurtling a growing blush to dust her cheeks, "don't worry about it,"
Luina furrowed her brows only to soften into a surprise when he did something that caught them all off guard. He summoned Whistle without an instrument on his lips but the mere breath he drew out between them. He whistled.
XXX
"For the last time," Scott groaned, "my dragon is not a wind dragon!"
After having spent the last few hours of what felt like a moment of infinity of asking questions, Scott could have sworn his headache tripled. He needed to relieve it and repetitive questions ask by some man with a ridiculously manly voice did not help it at all. His captor had asked him who his parents were, what his dragon's giveaway trait was, what food his dragon ate and a lot of questions regarding his dragon that it seemed like he ran out of questions and decided to go over them again and again.
"Let's do this one more time, Scott," the man said with a calm voice as if he had not heard anything the boy told him, "how were you able to discover a wind dragon without having idea what one is?"
Exhausted with all his might, Scott merely sighed and turned his head away. It was difficult explaining to someone who wouldn't believe him anyway.
"Scott, who are your parents?"
"I don't know," he answered flatly.
"How were you able to discover a wind dragon without having idea what one is?"
"I don't know--look, I get it if I'm being interrogated just to verify if I had been lying. It was never my intentions to distort the truth--I did intend to just tell the king of Blouyein that I still had not discovered it yet. But my mouth got the best of me. So if you intend to punish me now for whatever reason I made, then just do it and save yourself the trouble,"
There was a pause, and then another set of words, "ignorance of the truth, this boy know naught of his past and blessings," it seemed that he began talking to someone else, "but then again, he was never the brightest in his class. Shall I tell him myself?"
XXX
It was evening by the time they had reached the dry borders of Mellador. What first seemed like a Scalesian beach that outlined bits of the sea grew to a fine sandy, desert wasteland the further they went. The cold winds that contrasted to the scalding sun in the morning, harshly bit into any exposed skin as the group began setting up camp.
Drostan's dragon helped them create a bonfire from a pile of sticks Galvus ingeniously gathered from the chances they had when their surrounding was abundant with resources. They all had gathered, sitting in civil silence over the grumbling water that boiled on a spit. Galvus dug from his bag of herbs and sprinkled it over the stew as he cooked the fishes he gathered the other day with Whistle. The scent wafted around them comfortably as they cradled their empty stomachs.
Luina who hugged her arms stiffened when Drostan returned from his Dragon's saddle to retrieve a thick blanket he gently draped over her shoulders. It strongly smelled of leather, laundry soap and the faint musky smell of him that it made Luina scrunch up her nose.
"You're welcome," Drostan smiled arrogantly as he sat on the blanket she specially laid out for herself. Sitting determinedly, she made sure not to move an inch to grant him the space he wordlessly asked--even if it meant risking clothed skin contact.
"I'm not moving," Luina said finally.
With an unwavering grin, he moved a few inches away, keeping a less suffocating distance away from her. Though he was giving her space, his very presence still smothered her.
"Is it done yet?" Scott hung his shoulders low as he hunched over Galvus' shoulder.
"Just a few more moments, my lord," Galvus said formally returning the metal lid on top of the pot.
"We should have just packed the meal Blouyein prepared for us," Scott sighed dismally, leaning back on his palms.
"It's rude," Luina responded, as if calmly talking to a child.
"Rude, schmood, I'm hungry," Scott lolled his head back. As he did so, he saw Whistle resting distantly behind them a few meters. As the dragon noticed this, he grew wary. "Hey buddy," he greeted his dragon.
Whistle responded stiffly like an alarmed prey. Everyone noticed except for Scott.
“Scott,” Luina began, “how did you manage to whi—“
Before she could finish her sentence, Drostan cut her off, "why is he on edge today?"
"Who's he?" Scott whipped his head towards his mentor, curiosity vivid in his eyes as they lingered for a moment on Luina.
Drostan wordlessly jutted his chin towards the draconian creature behind his protégé.
"Oh," Scott said flightily, "right. Him," He was nodding slowly until he began shaking his head to gesture his oblivion.
The gauche silence that followed after was greatly welcomed by the rest and decided it was best to keep it that way until Galvus had finally began serving dinner. As usual, his cooking was like a mother's embrace that one sought for comfort. While everyone began cleaning up after dinner, Scott began unrolling his sleeping blanket next to whistle. As Drostan observed, Whistle snorted and rolled to have his back face his Dragoneer. It was a very strange reaction for the majestic beast would cling on to his Dragoneer endearingly.
Completely oblivious, Scott plopped back first on his cot before lying still as sleep took over him.
Resting his chin on his folded forearms atop his sleeping dragon's head, Drostan chewed thoughtfully on a long mint leaf's tip.
“Scott whistled, don’t tell me you didn’t notice that,” Luina remarked as she sat herself down on his seat, Drostan shrugged.
“You know he can’t whistle,” she added, her voice never leaving its usual calm tone, "there is something not right about him,"
"Indeed," Drostan sighed.
"Do you think he got abducted and got replaced by a doppelganger?"
Drostan snorted in laughter before quickly trying to quell it. Luina scowled as her cheeks burned red, but her voice did not betray her, "this isn’t something to be laughed about,"
"I know, I know," Drostan sighed, wiping a mirthful tear from the corner of his eye, "I'm sorry, it's just that your imagination is quite amusing,"
Luina rolled her eyes and, without him noticing, had thrown her slipper right at his face with a satisfying thwack.
"Ow," Drostan half-laughed in disbelief, his hand slowly cradling his jaw as he gawked at her in a manner where he couldn't decide if he should be amazed or insulted. Out of the many years he had lived, it was the first time he was attacked by his subordinate.
"Not so funny now, huh?" Luina grumbled as she gracefully made her way out of Drostan's dragon to fetch her footwear. A malicious grin graced the blonde's handsome features before deciding to sweep his fingers against the ones Luina used to balance herself on the way down.
He watched her fall clumsily on her rump as a lady-like scream ripped through her throat. While a growing cloud of sand billowed around her, Morschell and Galvus leaped out from the tent they have set up next to Drostan's dragon's belly with their fists raised, ready for a bare-handed battle.
"Oh it definitely is," Drostan smiled cheekily which easily came off as an air of arrogance for Luina.
"You shouldn't have done that," Luina said finally before grabbing a wooden pole they used to support their cooking pot over their spit. The metal ware fell on to the sand with a cushioned thud. Thankfully, there had been no leftovers gone to waste. Before racing back up again to Drostan, Morschell and Galvus watched them parry blows before deciding that sleep was a calling they were more pleased to respond to. It wasn't long before the two head back inside the spacious tent.
The corners of Drostan's mouth quivered in delight as he fought the urge to smile while carefully watching Luina. She remained oblivious to his gaze as she focused on hitting him somewhere just so that she could wipe the smugness out of his pretty face.
What annoyed her more was that he was armless and yet, he could still easily flick her blows and side-step her. In one swift motion, Drostan tapped her weapon far away from her hand like he would Scott hundreds of times when she watched them train.
Casually planting a palm next to her head, he ran his free hand through his hair, ruffling it as he chuckled, "did you really think you can win against me?"
Drostan watched the slightest flicker of her eyes before she tensed the moment she realized he had shepherd her to his Dragon and ultimately trapped her with just a hand.
He, of course did not realize this, for he already found himself trapped as well by her enchanting green eyes that never faltered. And he held them with his equally calm ones. Her cheeks smoldered a subtle pink from the remarkable fight she put up with him; she moved with the languidness of a Phoenician yet had the burning desire to stand up to him like a Scalesian. Her chest rose and fell as he watched her struggle to calm down, shuddering a few times as her cool breaths ghosted over his flushed skin, teasing him with their distance.
The sheen layer of sweat gracing her features made her skin glow radiantly against the gentle bonfire behind them, nearly taking his breath away. His reserved smirk glazed with arrogance fell lax in wonder before realizing how his lips burned when his eyes fell on her soft pair of plum, rosy lips.
His hand found its way to cup her cheek, an action he only noticed when her soft skin grazed his fingertips. His heart skipped a beat before racing against his ribcage, he was entranced just as he was afraid that one false move can ruin this moment.
He needed to stop.
It was blatantly obvious that Scott was head over heels for her like a lost puppy. And yet, his body did not respond--failed to respond when he slowly found himself inching towards her.
Like rose petals grazing against his lips, he sighed as they kissed.