The Den (DML)

The laughter of children was never false.

And, for Igor, it was what he filled his days with. He was popular amongst the young ones and he would always give them his attention when they crowed for it. They liked to marvel at his scales, his unique ability to ignite flames along his body, and it was nothing but a parlour trick but they screamed in delight every time.

He remembered once, when he was younger and still learning to control it, when his trainer had reacted the same way. That was when they'd dreamed of the glory of war but time had passed and better, stronger dragons had hatched and Igor was sidelined to be nothing more than another dragon too weak and too common to ever fight. It'd stung then, and it still did now.

In his habitat, he could see the warriors take flight. There was a handful of dragons the master used most, and a few others who would defend the islands when called for it, but there were three every dragon knew. They had been fed and trained to be the best, a good twenty levels above Igor himself, and they were all stunning. He'd never seen them up close, and they lived on a different island to his own, but he admired them as much as the children. They were heroes, protectors, and far too great for him.

He never thought he'd meet them.

And then, one morning, his trainer came to bring him out of his home. Igor followed him curiously, because he hadn't left for months, too weak to help explore the ruins, and he had no idea why he was called up now.

"Am I being sold?" he asked quietly.

"No," his trainer reassured him, pressing a hand to his snout, "it's nothing like that. You'll enjoy this."

Igor trusted him and he followed obediently, nodding his head to the other dragons as he passed. They didn't stop long enough for him to talk to them but, slowly, Igor pieced together the leering grins and whooping catcalls.

He was being brought to the breeding den.

"I'm to breed?" he burst out, unable to hide his surprise. "But why? I'm a common dragon, of fire and wind. The master would not choose me."

"Well, it's your lucky day, boy."

Igor thought the real lucky thing was that the other dragon wasn't there yet. He'd all but die of embarrassment if there was someone to see his blushing face and the sudden lack of control over his flames. He hadn't done that since he was a child.

"I've never bred!" he hissed quietly, "I don't know what to do!"

"The other dragon will know." His trainer said with confidence, patting Igor on the side of his neck. "You just follow his lead and I'll come collect you when it's over."

Things on the islands worked like a well oiled machine and Igor knew he would only be alone in the den for a few moments before the other dragon came to meet him. It was a terrifying thought to be found lacking or undesirable and Igor was so conscious of the fact he was no catch. He was made of the two most common elements, a measly level ten, and he knew nothing of making baby dragons.

He heard talk, of course, from other dragons who had gone to the den but he had never listened closely. The thought of him being chosen to add his essence to an egg was near impossible and he hadn't prepared for it. He wished he had now. Groaning, Igor buried his face under his wings and wondered if he could really die from shame.

A heavy thump outside the den caught his attention. It made the ground shake and the vibrations ran up Igor's legs, or maybe he was just shaking. He couldn't tell.

"Okay, Huma, you go in and enjoy yourself." A woman's voice travelled across. "I'll be here when you're done."

There weren't many dragons Igor knew outside of his island but Huma was a name he knew. Huma was a Radiant dragon, a trielemental warrior who could stun a foe and sap their life and seek retribution even when he fainted in battle. His name was sung in the songs and, aside from Seir, his battle partner, there was no stronger dragon.

Huma could have anyone, and yet the master had chose Igor. It didn't make sense.

"Hey," his voice, deep and low, was exactly what he imagined it to be, "can I come in?"

Igor couldn't refuse him. "Sure."

He knew what Huma looked like but he'd never seen him up close. It was amazing how brightly his scales shone and, for a second, he lost himself in staring at the light playing across him. He was sleek, lithe muscle and strong legs with a dashing jaw and sharp, sharp teeth.

And his eyes, a deep dark blue, met his evenly when Igor looked up at his face.

He blushed, quickly lowering his gaze. "Sorry, I didn't mean to stare."

"It's okay." Huma said, smiling slightly at him. "I confess I found myself doing the same."

Igor might've stared for a different reason this time.

"The young ones tell me of a Fireball dragon." He said, seeing the look on Igor's face. "I have always wanted to see him for myself."

Blushing further, Igor ducked his head. "I'm nothing special."

Huma brought a claw to his chin, lifting Igor's face up, "You are plenty special."

They spend the first hour in the den talking and it was weird to think he was sitting next to a fierce warrior when he spoke so softly. Huma spoke a lot about his battles, the Vikings he'd fought and the dragons he'd met, some even more fantastic and foreign than Igor could ever imagine. He found he liked the light cadence of his voice and, when Igor spoke, Huma would listen like it was important.

It was nice.

"We should retire to the bed." Huma said lightly, with none of the nerves Igor felt.

"Uh..."

Huma nudged him to the corner, a gentle presence by his side. "I won't hurt you."

At first, Igor was nervous. But it was Huma encouraging him and he was brave and kind and honourable, he wouldn't lead Igor astray. So he let his legs bring him over to the soft grass bed in the corner and he let Huma nudge him onto it, touches light and soft. He let Huma nuzzle his neck, small hot licks on his scales, and he felt a warm body press itself close. Huma took him gently, preparing him far too much before he slid in home and Igor cried out in soft mewls against his wings.

Later, after they'd had another coupling and Huma had cleaned them up, Igor rested on his chest and felt him breathe. It was oddly more intimate than anything else they'd done that day.

"What happens now?" Igor asked.

"What do you want to do?"

"I want to stay here forever," he admitted, too honestly.

"Why?"

It was easy to be honest when Igor wasn't looking at Huma so he said, absentmindedly tracing a pattern in his scales. "I fear I've given my heart to someone when I have neither his heart nor his bed."

A laugh travelled up Huma's chest, "I would not be so afraid."

Igor had to turn to look at him then, "Do you mean it?"

He smiled, soft and sweet, "If you would have me, it would be my honour."

It was a lie, but of the sweetest kind. So Igor played along and he asked Huma to visit him later, knowing he would have no one knocking at his door. When the night arrived and no dragon had come, he curled up in his bed and let his tears fall. It had been wondrous yet, at the same time, it had never been real.

He was on the edge of sleep when there was a heavy thud of something landing on his cave. There were Viking attacks all the time but Igor lived on one of the inner islands and no one ever got so close. It could only be another dragon.

He scrambled out, curious.

"Hello, Igor," Huma crept down the side of the cave, graceful despite his large bulk. "I hope I didn't wake you."

Igor gaped.

"I would've come sooner." Huma continued. "But the master called me out to fight and I confess I spent more time with the healer than I planned. I did not intend to leave you for so long."

And Igor should've tell him to stay away, because Huma was leaps and bounds above him, but he looked at him hopeful and waiting and he couldn't say no.

It passed like that for weeks. Huma would come and visit when he was done battling and he would listen patiently to all of Igor's inane stories, when they were nothing of worth to listen to at all. He would play with the children, ever so gentle, and let them climb along his back and tug at his crest. And he would look at Igor with his steady, kind eyes and, slowly, Igor let himself believe.

It was later still that the master brought them to the den again and this dragon they kept when it hatched. Para, all orange scales and a soft belly, had successes in training that belied her gentle appearance. She filled their home with soft laughter and grew fast before his eyes, maturing into a beautiful dragon with her father's grace and shining scales.

And then she was called to war.

And Igor had never wanted to fight more than then. He worried, he couldn't help it, but Huma would be there to keep their daughter safe. Every time, when they returned home victorious, it was more than he could wish for.

I wrote a fic about dragons, which I adore. It's based on the game Dragon Mania Legends, which I spend far too much time on.