Time heals all wounds, Zale thought of the old saying, contentedly watching Wiro make her morning flight around the residential deck they'd been moved to a week before. Sometimes he rode along with her, but this morning she had risen before he'd wanted to get out of bed. He didn't work until afternoon, anyway, so why shouldn't he be allowed a lazy morning?

It had been two years, almost to the day, since Wiro had chosen him at that rushed and harried hatching, and as promised, she had grown to almost ten times her size at the time. If he'd thought she was large then, the biggest in her clutch, she was gargantuan, now, fully adult and even more beautiful than as a hatchling. When he did want to ride along for one of her flights, which was fairly often these days, he was hardly even a feather's weight of hindrance to her. Flying was a delight, though at first he'd been a little nervous, when she was younger and not quite so large and strong; time, experience, and her own pleas to trust her had won him over quickly enough.

Time, indeed. Zale attributed his own healing more to his dragon than to time. Two years was a long time, but so was one year, and two years with Wiro was far, far more healing than one without. Between his initial detox and that hatching, Zale had just drifted, not making much-- if any-- progress towards becoming a normal, functional human being again. The only real effort he'd made was to keep himself clean, free from drugs, not to improve his standard of living. If he'd stayed like that, he figured it would only have been a matter of time before he backslid into old habits and ended up in jail rather than rehab. Signing up for the non-native hatchings was probably the only intelligent thing he'd done that whole time.

Now, though, Zale felt closer to his old self, steadier and more confident, than he had since before he'd ever heard of that horrible drug called Butterfly. His hands only shook when he was extremely nervous, now, and he could focus for almost as long as he used to, when he had focused on his components for robotics; he'd even started up a little of his tinkering again, in his free time, fixing up their apartments with personalized machinery. He still wasn't exactly social, but he could put together sentences confidently again and didn't make people uncomfortable when he spoke with them. He was even hungry now and again. The cravings hadn't stopped, but he'd resigned himself to the fact that they might never go away, and time and the distraction and companion that was Wiro had dulled them to something he could ignore. Even Cothran said that he might be ready to graduate out of the rehab program, even as he and Wiro had just graduated from the new dragoner training program. Zale was looking forward to maybe finding himself an additional part-time job working with his machines again, if he could handle the interview process.

A flash of silver caught his wandering eye as Wiro zipped by. Zale smiled, settling his gaze on her again. Aware that she had his attention once more, she sent him a burst of flirty mischievousness and spiraled up with a flare of wings in a deliberately showy move, twirling up towards the deck's ceiling and catching the artificial light on her metallic hide. Standing on their shared apartment's launching ledge, he applauded lightly, knowing that though she might not be able to actually hear him, she would sense his fond pride that she'd accomplished that tricky air-dancing maneuver, and his amusement that she was showing off for him. That was, really, preaching to the choir. Zale didn't think there was a dragon on the station-- or off it, for that matter-- that matched Wiro for grace and beauty. She made a stunning picture at the top of her arc, wings spread, shining silver and dimly glowing blue-white against the darkened steel of the station's deck itself.

Filling his mind with pleasure for his praise, and sending an image of herself sticking her tongue out at him for the amusement, Wiro dropped into a dive again-- a dive that very nearly entangled her with another dragon who had chosen that moment to glide by. Laughing while she apologized, embarrassed, to the young mutt-dragon, Zale marveled one more time at how much he'd changed since she'd formed their bond. The most anyone could get out of him before had been a small chuckle, but now, here he was, laughing out loud.

:You flatter me,: Wiro told him as she glided back to the ledge and alighted gently, wings fluttering and flashing in the light. Zale's eyes might have been tricking him, but he thought she looked brighter than usual; then again, he might have just been biased, affected by her cheer. :I'm not nearly so good as all that,: she continued, giving herself a light shake before folding her wings primly and shooting him a gape-jawed dragon smile. :You made most of those changes yourself; I couldn't hardly force you.:

No, he admitted silently. Though he could speak perfectly well, he was still more comfortable with silent-speech, letting her pick up his thoughts along their link. She loved to hear his voice, but was content letting him speak when he felt comfortable. You couldn't force me to change, no. But you gave me my reason to.

:Oh, piffle,: she told him, turning her head with embarrassment and pleasure at his thought, but didn't try to contradict him. Instead, she padded over and dropped her vaguely pointed muzzle down to nudge his chest very carefully, inviting scratchings which he gave willingly, rubbing from the tip of her muzzle to the crown of her head, around the newly installed steel-spike cyborware they'd purchased, as a kind of celebratory gift, right after they'd moved into their new apartment. They had been free, a gift of the station for the simple fact that she'd been born there. The token they'd been given only allowed for a minor modification, so Wiro had chosen three polished spikes to affix to the top of her head. Someday, he'd promised, when they could afford it, she would get the moderate modification that she wanted to badly: ears.

For now, most of what he'd managed to save during their two years of double-discounts-- both his discount as a rehabilitating addict, and his discount for being a new dragon bonder-- had gone towards buying and outfitting this modest but comfortable dragon-pair apartment on the station's fifth deck, near the very top terrace of the residential section. His brother Ian had helped him get a particularly good deal on the apartment itself, being in the real estate business on the station, and had even negotiated the final sale himself. Now they owned it, with only a years' worth of mortgage payments after their large down-payment from savings, and Zale already couldn't imagine living anywhere else. Even the quarters assigned to them among the other young dragon-pairs hadn't really been theirs. It was a wonderful feeling to own his own home again.

After a moment of leaning against Wiro's cheek, scratching along her hide while she thrummed happily, Zale realized that she felt a good deal warmer than normal. That was odd. Normally she wasn't any warmer than he was, perhaps a little cooler, despite her great size, but now she felt at least a couple degrees hotter than he was, like she was feverish, though she seemed to be feeling just fine. More than fine, in fact: she was radiating happiness and contentment, if a little restlessness. That seemed familiar, like something he'd learned about, but he couldn't quite place it, so he didn't think about it. Sometimes, if he just left an idea alone, it would come back to him and make more sense later on.

Meanwhile, Wiro had sunk down to a crouch on the cool tiles of the landing platform, resting her chin on her forepaws while he turned his scratching to her neck, giving her face a rest. The platform itself was edged with unpolished stone, to give a solid grip for landing on, but the rest was paved with cheap stone tiles, smooth-cut for bare feet and only polished faintly, so as not to be slippery. Inside, even in Wiro's side of the dwelling, was carpeted, though her side was obviously floored with something tougher and more hardy than the plush on Zale's side. Cannon, their large, shaggy dog, lay sprawled on the very edge of the plus, snoozing in the artificial sunlight, completely oblivious to the massive dragon just feet away from him. He'd come a long way, too, from at first being afraid of Wiro, to now being able to treat her with the same mournful affection he afforded Zale.

"So did you have a nice flight?" he asked. Judging from the level of her purring and the vague, happily distracted sense of her mind, Wiro wasn't going to be picking up a stray mental question without some kind of vocal prodding.

:Other than almost running into that nice young dragon, yes,: she told him fuzzily.

Nice young dragon, hmm? When she didn't respond, he repeated, "Nice young dragon, hmm? Should I be jealous?"

:Maybe,: she teased. :He was rather handsome, after all.:

"I didn't know you cared about handsome young dragons," Zale commented, settling to sit on her foreleg, leaning back against her shoulder.

:Maybe I do,: she answered, mildly surprised. :I didn't used to.:

Now that he had her attention, he didn't bother speaking. Well, you are an adult now. You're allowed to think about handsome young dragons. Her surprise at that was tinged with anxiety, enough that he had to pat her neck reassuringly. What? Is there something wrong with that?

:I don't know....: She shifted a bit, rustling her wings, and Zale picked up a slightly different kind of embarrassment from her than what he usually felt from her when he complimented her. Against the dimmer lighting inside their apartment, he could see that she really was glowing more brightly than usual, the silver almost matching the brightness of her lightning marks.

Suddenly he remembered why the rise in her temperature had seemed like something familiar to him, now that he had it coupled with those other symptoms, and he chuckled. I think you're getting ready for your first flight, dearest.

He expected more embarrassment, or maybe a little maidenly nervousness, but the sudden surge of fear and dismay caught him off guard. For a moment he teetered on her foreleg as she went stiff with shock, nearly falling off onto the floor before he tugged himself out of her feelings and sorted himself out again. Being as closely bonded as they were did have the occasional drawbacks-- only occasional, of course, and far outweighed by the benefits. Now, though, he had to focus hard to keep from getting drawn into the stirrings of her panic.

"Wiro," he said, trying to sound as gentle and calm as possible. Controlling his tone of voice still wasn't his best talent, but at least his voice wasn't shaking. His hands were, though, and he laid them on her neck to still them and reassure her at the same time. "Wiro, sweetheart, it's all right. Relax. There's nothing wrong with that, honest. It's perfectly natural."

:But-- I don't know anyone! I don't have anyone to-- I don't want to!:

"Why not?" he asked, a little confused. He thought that flights were natural for dragons, not something they were afraid of or nervous about. That's what they'd said in classes, anyway.

:Because-- I don't know.: Being unable to find a reason seemed to calm her some. :It's kind of scary. I mean, isn't it supposed to be a big thing? Important? I-- didn't think I would be a mother so soon!:

"Other dragons do it all the time," Zale reminded her. "Some even twice a year."

Her horror was almost laughable, or would have been if Zale hadn't been bound to her and, so, felt it along with her. :I wouldn't! Would I? Twice a year?:

"I don't think so, really," Zale assured her, stroking her neck gently. "You're not like the dragons here, maybe it won't even be once a year. Maybe it won't even be once every other year. I don't know, but it can't be twice a year." With a dragon her size, if she rose even once a year, she would be spending most if not all of her time either pregnant or watching eggs, and that would be a very boring life, even for a dragon. "Probably not even once a year."

She gave him a sidelong look, still full of anxiety, surprisingly shy, now. :But... you're the only person I know very well, really, and you can't-- you know.:

Feeling her feelings or not, Zale almost did laugh, that time. "Um, no, Wiro, I can't. But a lot of dragons just hold open flights, don't they?"

:What if I don't like them? The dragons who come, or the dragon who-- who catches me?:

"Then you don't have to see them again, after they've caught you."

There was a long pause before she asked, in a very small voice, :What if I do like them?:

Zale was surprised. "What if you like them?"

:You won't be jealous?:

Even more surprised, he stared at her. "Why would I be jealous? I only want you to be happy, dearest, and if some dragon makes you happy, that's good enough for me."

That seemed to reassure her, some. :Well, and you can have the rider, anyway, right? Isn't that how it works?:

Though he was tempted to chuckle at her for her eagerness to make sure he was happy, too, Zale had to think about that. He hadn't been particularly interested in women-- or men, for that matter-- even before Butterfly. Now, he didn't know if he would even get interested if he were sharing whatever Wiro felt in her flight. Butterfly did a lot of things to him, and killing what little sexual urges he had might have been one of them. Certainly he hadn't so much as thought of a woman like that since he'd gotten hooked. "We'll see," was all he told her. "Want me to sign you up, on my way out to work, for an open flight?"

After a pause, Wiro sighed, lifting her head from her paws and turning it to nuzzle him carefully. :All right.:

Wiro is rising at Star City Dragonry

Chapter Seven

Back