Shape-Shifter: Tinar and Methiel's Story

Methiel wasn't sure whether she was giddy, terrified, peaceful, or all three in some strange, convoluted way. She did know that her head hurt, pounding behind her eyes from the psychic trauma she'd just subjected it to, but she also knew that she didn't care. She'd suffer more than this, and gladly, for what had just happened.

::And to think, you didn't even want a dragon.::

Meizo, sitting at her feet, cast her a sly look along with his thought. He'd been poking around in her memory, something which would normally have put her into a frenzy of fear and sent her mind locked down so heavily that she would have trouble thinking, but somehow, just because it was him and he was already inside her protections, this time she didn't. He managed to look and feel enigmatic, even though his mind was so intimately connected with hers that there couldn't be any secrets between them, if they didn't wish it.

::And now you have two....::

Meoda's thought and expression, peeking up around one opalescent shoulder shyly at her, were closer to to anxious. She did no such nosing around, afraid or polite or simply quiet, but because of that, she also didn't know what Meizo already knew. Methiel scooped her up from where she crouched on her knees, cuddling her up against the fur of her face, heedless of the faint stickiness left over from her stay in the eggshell and the flecks of blood from the rare meat she'd been feeding her.

"And I wouldn't give you up for anything," she reassured her, and smiled at the faint purr she heard in response. "So don't you worry."

::I wasn't.::

::I guess maybe I was. I've never done this before.::

"Well, neither have I, so we can figure it out together, then." She scratched gently along the scales of her smaller dragon's head-crest, and felt the relaxed pleasure in response, reveling in it a moment before offering her another cut of meat.

The dragons were both nearly full, little bellies bulging with the huge meal they'd consumed and mouths just a little blood-speckled-- they were remarkably neat eaters, for children or for dragons, from what Methiel might have thought-- when Tinar finally worked up the courage to clop himself over from the doorway. He was smiling, proudly yet nervously at the same time, and though he didn't touch her, she could tell he wanted to. If not for that silly taboo, Methiel would have gladly thrown herself into his arms, caroling with joy and trembling with fear, letting him congratulate and comfort her all in one. As it was, she couldn't even take his hand, even though she ached to.

::You're in love!::

Blinking, she glanced at Meoda, who ducked her head and fell mentally silent after that singular surprised-- and, she thought, pleased?-- outburst. If Tinar hadn't been already within hearing distance, she would have spoken: denied it, asked why she thought so, or wondered if it might be so. Never had she considered the possibility, thinking she only liked him to keep her warm at night and keep her safe from the rest of the world. Love was frightening, dangerous, and not something to be trifled with. She'd ask Meoda about her thoughts later, certain she'd remember; she doubted she could forget.

Meizo, for once, had no comment, but he looked even more sly and inscrutable than ever. She poked him lightly in the jowls, fed him one last bit of meat, then turned her attention to Tinar, now standing over her, trying to find words. She must be strong and bright for him, secure in her aloneness.

::You're not alone.::

::Never, not anymore.::

Smiling softly, she gathered Meoda into her arms again, curling her tail around Meizo, and looked up at Tinar. He dropped with a ponderous grace to his knees, collapsing first forequarters, then hind, beside her.

"This is Meoda'Vuku," she said quietly, holding the sparkling white against her breast, and turning so he could see her. The hatchling blinked bright blue eyes at him, and he smiled.

"Hello, Meoda," he rumbled gently, offering her a pair of fingers for a sniff or a caress. She did the former with a kind of quiet dignity, then rubbed her head against them in a very catlike gesture. The Equita obliged carefully, his big fingers looking oddly blunt against Meoda's graceful muzzle.

"And this is Meizo'Fask," Methiel continued, letting the brightly purple dragon nod his head gravely at Tinar. "Meizo, Meoda, this is Tinar."

::It is a pleasure, Tinar,:: Meizo said solemnly.

"Likewise," Tinar replied, somewhere between equally solemn and mildly bewildered. He wasn't one for formality, her warrior wasn't, and he simply wasn't sure what to do with it when he encountered it. Methiel tried not to giggle.

Before any of them could try to say or do anything else, though, the clearing of a throat behind Tinar's bulk of horseflesh made them all jump-- except Meizo, who simply looked smug. Turning, they all saw the golden Vulpyr Kin standing there, a heavy book under one arm and a quill in one hand. Standing to their sitting, she looked down her narrow muzzle at them all, expression one that suggested she'd just tasted something foul. Tinar's expression went blank, a sure sign that he was worried again, and Methiel felt a spur of fear, as well. What would bring her here, looking like that, unless she knew something? Something in particular, which could, Tinar said, get them both killed--

::It's all right,:: Meizo said instantly, derailing that panicked train of thought neatly. ::Just wait.::

Confused, but no longer quite so afraid-- just what did Meizo know that she didn't?-- she found her voice. "Mistress Kin... how can we help you?" It sounded more controlled than she felt, cool and confident.

"Just making rounds," Kin grumbled. "Checking names. You know."

"Well," Methiel answered calmly, "I'm Methiel, of course, and this is Meoda'Vuku, and Meizo'Fask." She nodded lightly to each dragon in turn, and both of them nodded a greeting-- shy and superior respectively-- while Kin checked off their names in her book.

"And you are-- Tinar, yes?" Kin said unexpectedly, sharp eyes on the Equita. Tinar blinked at her, and Methiel resisted the urge to put a hand on his arm reassuringly. "Here for the Hunts, are you?"

"Ah-- yes, ma'am," he replied. "Not for a while, though."

"Hmph. We are horribly full up, backed up until next year sometime. You'd think a body would be smart enough to not want one of those brutish mutts, but nooo, everyone seems to want their share!" Kin's voice was a scoff, but before Methiel could bristle on her warrior's behalf, the fox continued even more unexpectedly: "They're so full we're running out of room for you all, it's ridiculous." Her eyes flicked between the pair of them. "In fact, Tinar, if you could find, ah, alternate quartering, you would be welcome to do so." Another quick glance from one to the other and she added: "With the Lady's blessings."

Then she was gone, leaving Methiel and Tinar a bit nonplussed, looking at each other on confusion. Meoda slipped from her arms, up onto her shoulders, and Meizo stepped back a little, as if they knew very well what Kin had meant, and also knew exactly what would happen when their chosen made the connection. They were right. Of the two, Methiel was the first to understand, and as soon as she did, she let out a little whoop that made him jump and caught the eyes of a few nearby pairs of hatching and chosen. Since most of them were from off-world-- and the other two shifters had already left-- they didn't realize just what was so surprising about her throwing herself at Tinar, arms wrapping around his neck and, though her canine lips could not bestow a kiss, her tongue did the job with an enthusiastic lick to his cheek.

Tinar was slower to understand, probably hampered by the shock of her own reaction, but when she whispered in his ear, "She doesn't mind. --Tonight, it's my new room," he turned darkly red, finally making the connection. Even despite the embarrassment, still he smiled, and nodded.