Early evening, the underground was only slightly chilled by the loss of the sun, even in deep winter. A credit to the dragons, to be sure. I lay across the doorway leading into the hallway, lead on my paws, and watched the cubs preparing for the night. This was their fourth and final day as candidates at the Sanctuary bonding project, the day in which they would both likely be bound to dragons who choose them, and they wanted to look their best, look grown up and confident or at least not disgracefully ill-groomed.

Catame, I thought, would probably never look completely without nervousness, not anytime soon at least. As he tried to flatten his woefully curly hair, staring fretfully into the mirror that hung between his bed and his brother's, I could read the exciement and anxiety riding side by side in his spirit. He didn't know what to expect: hope told him he would return to this room tonight with a new friend who would stand by him for life, but doubt whispered that he wasn't worthy of such a thing and the dragons surely knew it.

I had watched Catame all three nights of meetings, and as often as I could bear the enclosed, heavy, dragon-scented spaces of the underground in between and around them. The young Light dragoness, Tantra, had struck up a kinship with him that the boy had never expected, not after the mild disaster of their first acquaintance. Under my watchful eye, they discovered how similar they truly were, and Catame bloomed from frightened and shy to encouraging and caring, drawing smiles and courage from the little one. Even of Catame feared that she would not love him enough to take the necessary step, I knew the only thing holding her back was her own bravery. Even then, her companion Frux might take the step for her and prod her into action. Rather the way Daynoren might shepherd Catame, in fact, and I smiled slightly at the similarity.

With shaking hands, Catame finally gave up on his hair and moved back to me, dressed in his favorite blues, the same brand new clothes Dana had provided for the first meeting. He sat down at my side and rested his head on my shoulders, ducking under my arm and burying his cold fingers in my fur. I lifted my head to gaze back at him, bringing a smile from him, but it was a weary one. "Are you tired?" I asked, perhaps rather too sharply, but he only shook his head and smiled on.

"Only a little," he murmured. "I'm mostly just nervous."

Of course, nerves would make him just as tired as exertion, if not more so because his emotions and mind had been so taxed of late, with all the happenings. I nuzzled his cheek. "Be sure you do not over-exert yourself tonight," I warned him with concern.

"What is there to exert ourselves over?" Daynoren asked from where he now stood before the mirror. Compared to the muted colors and simple style of Catame's chosen outfit, the older brother was resplendent in scarlet, white, and gold, an embroidered vest over a robe of heavy velvet with trailing sleeves and silken trim, and soft, white trousers beneath with more embroidery. He glanced at my reflection in the mirror. "All we do is stand there while the dragonets make their choice, after all."

While Catame's nervousness was plain for the world to see, Daynoren buried his beneath pride and a charming smile. Anyone who did not know him well, or did not know him as I did, would see nothing but a confident, self-possessed child with more arrogance than he rightly deserved. I knew better: the glitter in his eyes was not pride but fear, the toss of his hair aimed at drawing attention to his beautiful face and away from his hidden heart, the bored tone of his voice a mask to keep it from trembling.

For Daynoren's fate was not even as certain as Catame's, and he was well aware of it. The same fears that plagued his brother now hid behind Daynoren's public face of confidence, for he was stepping into a new experience, before a room full of others, and his future would be decided by creatures he admired but barely knew. Daynoren, however, had not met a dragonet who he loved, who he could know as he knew his own self, so his uncertainty was greater than Catame's, who was only uncertain because of his own doubt in himself. I had watched Daynoren as well as Catame at those meetings, and in between, and Daynoren had made superficial relationships, but nothing he knew would draw a dragonet to him for life. For once in his life, Daynoren was unsure of himself, and he was doing everything he could to hide it.

"Oh, I don't know," Catame answered his brother quietly. "Getting looked at by a lot of people at once is tiring, to me, and this bonding spell might be really strong. Wouldn't it have to be, to do what it's supposed to do? It could be really tiring, itself."

"But the magic isn't coming from you, or even the dragonet," Daynoren said reasonably. "It's coming from a set-spell in a scroll. It shouldn't tired you at all; if anything, it might feel very much like someone just pumped dragon-magic into you."

Catame's eyes grew wide. "Really?" he asked, obviously excited by that idea. He'd never drawn fresh dragon-magic before-- I was never certain he could hold it steadily at his young age without being overwhelmed, and I never had actual dragons available to donate before-- and the idea had always enchanted him.

"Possibly," I mused, even more concerned now. I had not considered the effect of the spell itself before... I vowed to myself to stand close by in case the boy should faint or fall, if I could. "The spell itself will be focused on you, and it will be very powerful. I do not know what it will feel like. Perhaps your brother is right."

Catame was excited, Daynoren was anxious, and I, myself, did not know what to feel. It was entirely possible that today I would loose both of my cubs, giving them away to the dragons I only barely trusted, to a purpose that was completely out of my hands. I could not bring myself to dampen their spirits, nor could I allow myself to begrudge them this opportunity for happiness, but I still could not shake off the feeling of loss and dread that hovered around me, that had not left me even though Catame's danger seemed to have passed. Trying to stabilize myself and free myself from such unfounded feelings, I drew in some of the magic from the room around me-- being so close to dragons, built by dragons, and visited surprisingly recently by one bearing the magic of a Light dragon, there was a store of magic that hummed quietly in the walls-- and breathed out slowly.

It was time.

Daynoren gave his hair a final smoothing with his hands, straightened his vest one last time, and turned to me as I rose, lifting Catame to his feet with me. "Come," I said. "You are expected for the ceremony feast."

Wearing a smile that I did not wholly feel, I led my cubs out to their future.