It felt like he had blinked and suddenly it was the night he was supposed to meet the dragons. Cacopheny sat on his nest on the floor while Chiya carefully brushed out his hair and Ketvia looked on from where she leaned against the wall. They had made him bathe again-- if he had thought it strange before, in the tub at the inn, here, using the "shower" which rained water down on him was even stranger. Not unpleasant, though. In fact, he'd stood under the flow of warm water for so long that Ketvia had come in to drag him out, grumbling about how he was a "crazy kid" and would be late if he didn't hurry up.

Though now, neither of them seemed in too much of a hurry. Chiya was slowly and methodically separating out all the tangles in his long hair, hardly pulling a single one in her care, and Ketvia was brooding. Her shadow was muttering about how hopeless she thought this was, but at the same time how she hoped it would work so that he would be out of her fur. It used much more flowery language, of course, but now that he was used to dragon-shadows, he could mostly understand them. Well, what they said, anyway; sometimes what they meant was less clear.

She's right, you know.

About what?

About it being hopeless.

Oh....

As much as Cacopheny loved Chiya, and loved and hated Ketvia, he couldn't help but wish that he might actually catch the attention of a little dragon. If Enyi was any judge of them, little dragons were worth knowing, and the constant worry that, like Ketvia thought, they'd be afraid of him or disgusted by him made him feel profoundly sad. The shadows were having quite the time picking at him, with such a ready subject to use against him.

Nobody likes us.

So of course no on will like you.

We want you to ourselves, anyway.

You're ours.

No, I'm not. I'm Hers.

That silenced them, for a moment anyway. They couldn't dispute that, even if he hadn't seen Her in what felt like a lifetime. She had laid Her claim long before he had any shadows to talk to, and had a much deeper hold on him. Or, She had used to. What kind of hold She would still have on him now, he really didn't know, and he didn't want to think about.

"There," Chiya said, a smile in her voice. "All done. And much drier, I must say."

"Well, since you took so long," Ketvia snorted, "it's a wonder he's not all dry. Now get him in some clothes, already, would you? I have no idea why the thought of going into season makes you blush, but you can sit around a naked man without blinking."

Chiya's shadow cringed, but Chiya only said, "That's different." She rose, going to where fabric of black and deep violet lay folded on one of the beds and picking it up. He watched her turn, offering them to him. "Here, Cacopheny," she said. "They're brand new, just for tonight." Her smile held guilt and fear beside the pride, and her shadow was chattering very quietly of nothing at all, but he took the new clothes carefully, anyway, and unfolded them. The violet was a thick, softly-woven robe that probably would drag on the ground once worn and sleeves that must have reached almost as far. He ran his fingers over it, enjoying the feel of the fabric before setting it aside to investigate the other garment. It turned out to be another robe of heavy, black velvet, sleeveless and high-collared. It felt even more inviting than the first, and he spent a moment just feeling its fur change direction under his hands.

"The black one goes on top of the purple one," Chiya said at last, breaking the long silence and reminding him that he was supposed to put the wonderful fabrics on.

Stupid.

That's what clothes are for.

The purple one went on easily enough, and as he'd suspected, the sleeves reached down to his knees. Chiya came over then to pull his still-damp hair out from inside the robe, then held up the black velvet with a smile. Getting into that one, even with Chiya's help, was more difficult. The sleeves kept tangling, getting stuck against the slightly rougher fabric or simply refusing to go through the holes intended for them, and then the fastenings on the front were difficult, especially with Cacopheny's claws. Finally, Ketvia shooed them both away and did the fastenings herself, muttering about fumble-fingers and nervous hands.

Then they both stepped back and stared at him. He shifted nervously under their looks. Chiya spoke first, her voice small but pleased: "You look wonderful."

Contained, her shadow said.

"You'll do," Ketvia admitted. "At least you look halfway descent, even if you do have fangs and claws."

If he manages to bring harm in fabric that copious, I will devour my own tail-plume, her shadow said.

For a moment, caught between conflicting voices, Cacopheny looked from dragon to dragon. Bring harm? Contained? What--

They mean you can't hurt anyone if you're smothered in velvet like that.

They don't--

They do. And they're part right, too.

It would be hard to move quickly in all that.

Much less get a clear shot at anything.

Can you imagine, making a swipe and getting fouled up in all that...?

Cacopheny hissed softly, mostly at the shadows, but he still turned away from the dragons and sat down in his corner, drawing darkness and clothing around him. If that was what they thought of him, there was no point in even trying. They obviously didn't want him, certainly the little dragons wouldn't want him, even She must not have wanted him, if She hadn't come after him by now.

We want you.

We love you.

We've always loved you.

"No, you don't," he snarled under his breath. "You just say that because you don't have anyone else who listens to you."

"Cacopheny-- Cacopheny, what's wrong?"

Chiya tried to put her hands on his shoulders, but he twitched away. "You ssink I vill. Hurrt ssem?" he growled, not looking at her, but rather glaring at the wall. Chiya's hand fell, and her shadow wailed guilt and despair though her tongue was tied by the same. There was a long moment of silence; even Cacopheny's shadows were silent, holding breaths that they did not breathe.

"No," Ketvia finally said, with all the impatience of someone who thinks someone else is being horribly silly. Cacopheny waited for her shadow to tell him she was lying, but it was silent, as well. "We were afraid you might, like you did last time you were confronted with a big group of dragons, so we took precautions. That doesn't mean we think you will, just that it's possible. Anything's possible, and if we can prepare for something that, though not probable, is still possible, you'd best believe we will."

It took a moment to sort all that out, and Cacopheny frowned. "Sso. You too not ssink I will?"

"No, we think you'll be more likely to freeze up and do nothing, or scare kits away by glowering at them, honestly."

"Ketvia!" Chiya exclaimed, but Cacopheny didn't mind honesty. It was better than hearing different things from mouth and shadow. Besides, those were both things he might well do.

"I vill. Trrrrry. To be goot and not scarrrre. Anyvone," he said haltingly.

"That's all anybody could ask of you," Ketvia answered with a nod. "Now are you done sulking? We've got a lot of dragons waiting to meet you, you know."

Smiling, Cacopheny climbed back to his feet, saying in his own tongue, "Don't let it get around, but there are times I really like you, Ketvia."

The red-skinned dragoness looked at him suspiciously. "What'd he say?" she demanded of Chiya, who only shrugged, mystified.

Cacopheny chuckled-- it sounded more like a cough, but who cared?-- and turned to face them both fully. "Sssssso? Arrrreh ve going?"

Ketvia opened the door for him without another word, and he swept out into the hallway. Even if the kits didn't end up liking him, at least he could say he tried.