Adeon hadn't slept.
Catherine was nestled in the crook of his arm, warm and unfathomably tiny. Her mouth had fallen wide open, and a lock of curling black hair fluttered over her lips in time with her breathing. She was still wearing the same dress as last night, the neckline hanging haphazardly from one shoulder. Adeon's eyelids lowered slowly in a weary blink. The residents of the hall were beginning to stir.
It was going to be a long day.
"Catherine," he said, lowering a talon to touch her cheek, and she murmured something before catching it in her hands, clutching it to her chest, and rolling over. He hesitated, then gingerly pried it from her fingers. "Catherine."
Her eyelids fluttered. "Mmm." Her legs shifted, lifting her dress and exposing a creamy length of thigh, and Adeon cocked his head to the side before tracing the line of flesh with a claw. Although the cogs of his brain were sluggish with sleep-deprivation, he found himself idly licking his lips. He wondered vaguely how furious she would be if she awakened to find his tongue in between her legs. She would turn that delicious shade of pink, he thought, and her lips would part in an enticing moan while he lapped her up. He imagined the arch of her spine, the near-agonized wail she would reward him with while her body was wracked with those familiar shudders, the way the corners of her lips would twitch into a blissful smile.
His mouth watering slightly, he caught the hem of her dress delicately beneath one of his claws and lifted it a few inches higher. She shivered a little as the tip of his talon skimmed her flesh, but then grew still. He began to descend towards her, his maw splitting into a greedy grin, but paused as he caught sight of a pale shape making its way towards him in the gloom of the cavern. His eyes narrowed moodily. He tugged her dress back down to her knees.
"Adeon, isn't it?" a familiar voice said. The white-haired dragon was regarding the two of them with interest, pink eyes lit with curiosity. He was shed of his scales, clad in a saffron-gold tunic and dark tights. His pale skin was luminous in the dark.
"Yes," Adeon said irritably. The other dragon lifted an eyebrow.
"I hope I'm not interrupting."
Catherine was stirring against the curve of his arm, and those enormous blue eyes slid open to regard Adeon blearily. "Ist mrnng?" she slurred, and he nudged her chest with his nose.
"It's morning," he agreed, trying to hide the weariness in his voice. Her face slackened in a wide yawn, and he watched her dress strain against the swell of her bosom as she stretched. Disappointment and exhaustion made the glare he shot the other dragon a little more vicious than he intended. "What is it that you need?" The other dragon bowed with a flourish.
"I am called Cael by some," he intoned. "I'll be accompanying you on your journey this morning. After much contemplation, I've decided to exchange my favor with the Unseelie fey for the advantage of our battle."
Adeon's scaly brows furrowed. "How very valiant of you," he said dryly. Cael's lips spread into an impish smile. "And just how long did it take you to come to such a noble decision?" Cael shrugged and let his eyes wander throughout the cavern.
"A debt from the Unseelie is precious. I'd be devastated if it were to go to waste. But it's all for the better if I join you, I suppose. It would be unwise to attempt to redeem it on my own. Scary place, you know."
As Adeon listened to Cael drawl, watched the lazy shift of his eyes, he decided that he wasn't overly-fond of the other dragon.
"You're very kind to offer your help," Catherine said from in between his claws, and he glanced down at her. She was much more awake now, all lustrous blue eyes and rosy cheeks, her lips cheerfully curved.
"I
am
very kind," Cael said. His smirk evoked a faint pang of rage from deep in Adeon's chest. "When will we depart?"
"Soon," Adeon grunted.
"Good, good. I suppose I'll go and find the rest of your little cavalry." And with that, he turned, stretched, and moseyed right out of the cavern. Adeon watched him warily for a moment, and then felt Catherine lay her hand on his snout. Her pink lips parted in inquiry, and he lowered his head so it was level with hers.
"I don't like him," he finally mumbled. Catherine laughed, a sweet chime like so many bells, and he felt the tension loosen in his shoulders.
"He
is
quite sure of himself," she said. "But I think it's charming. He reminds me a bit of you." Adeon's mouth quirked in annoyance, but then her face fell. "Adeon," she murmured, "are you alright?"
Adeon struggled to mask the droop of his eyelids, the slackness of his features. "Tired," he said. Her warm hands clutched his jaw, drew his head into her arms, and he let his eyes slide shut.
"You didn't sleep," she said accusingly.
He winced. "I did not."
"You're worrying." Her chin was raised sternly, and he flashed her a weary, reluctant grin.
"I told you not to worry for the both of us," he said. "We would never get anything done." Her arms constricted in a tiny squeeze as she laughed, and he tried to ignore the intoxicating warmth of her embrace. Her hands stroked the ridges of his brow, slow and soft, and he exhaled in a rattling sigh. "Nor will we if you put me to sleep," he added drowsily.
"You should rest."
"We have very few allies in our endeavor, and time isn't one of them." His limbs creaked with protest as he stirred, and she pouted mutinously when he eased his head out from her arms. "We'll be leaving soon."
"I have to dress," she sighed after a moment. He watched with amusement as she rose to her feet, clutched her enormous makeshift sack in her hands, and dragged it slowly towards his shoulders. He unfurled one of his wings obediently, and even that elicited a weary pop from his joints. As he listened to the shift of fabric behind him, he tried to swat away thoughts of the forest, of the inevitable threat of fairy sabotage. Catherine, naive and blissfully ignorant of the wicked compulsions of the fey, couldn't possibly know what they were walking into.
"I'd rather you stayed outside the forest while we spoke," he said softly, and he heard her pause. "The Unseelie court can be nightmarish, its inhabitants doubly so."
"I thought you said the dragons and the fairies were...I don't know..." Her voice became muffled as she wriggled into another dress. "...friendly?" Adeon snorted.
"A truce doesn't necessarily beget friendship. We tolerate each other, and that tolerance doesn't extend to human visitors." She wandered out from behind his wing wearing a pale blue dress, a black cloak, and her slippers. "They'll be very interested in you," he said quietly.
"Isn't that a good thing?" she retorted.
"Never." She looked down at the floor, and he felt despair well up in his chest. "I'm not going to be able to change your mind, am I?" he murmured. She offered him a wry smile that he did not return.
"I thought you weren't going to let me out of your sight." He groaned, and she scooped up his pile of clothes. "I'll be alright," she said. "I'll have you to keep me safe. And Roane, and Sher, and Shax, and maybe even Cael, although he doesn't really strike me as the valorous type..." He shifted and twisted as he shed his scales, feeling them withdraw slowly into his skin, and tried to hide his brooding expression as he took the clothes from her. Her eyes narrowed. "Don't brood," she said, and he heaved an exasperated sigh.
He dressed in silence, and his eyes flitted down to Catherine's knapsack as he tugged on his trousers. Something was glittering in its depths, and after a moment's pause, he knelt down to scoop it up. A smile teased at his lips.
"You still have it," he mused.
The sapphire pendant hung heavy and bright from the silver chain that was tangled in his fingers. It caught the strange yellow light of the cavern and sent it ricocheting back tenfold, as dazzling as a star plucked from the sky. Although he had once treasured it with a grim sort of pride, now it only brought to mind the damp spirals of Catherine's curls that were plastered to her cheek as she rose from the spring, the wide uncertainty of her stare, the way she had tried to mask her embarrassment with indignation the first time he saw her wear it.
"I'm sorry I haven't worn it," she said, wrenching him from his thoughts. "With all that we've done, I've been terrified of losing it." He stalked behind her and paused, then parted her mass of curls to kiss the nape of her neck. He relished her shudder, closing his eyes to inhale her heady scent.
"It reminds me of your eyes," he said against her skin. He draped the chain over her throat and fastened it with a deft slip of his fingers. "It would make me so happy if you never took it off."
"Then I won't," she whispered.
"Good." He pressed his mouth to her neck again, and his hands lingered on her shoulders as he drew away. "They're probably waiting for us," he said grimly, and she clung to him as he began to stride unsteadily towards the exit.
"But you look so tired," she protested. She leaned against his arm as they walked, worry darkening her gaze. "What if you fall from the sky?" she wondered out loud, and he lifted his eyebrows.
"Then you'll fall with me, I expect, unless you sprout some wings of your own."
"I don't believe I possess the ability to sprout wings on command."
"Perhaps it's latent. You've never fallen from the sky before, have you?" He tilted his head towards her and grinned broadly. "We could try it."
"You're absolutely terrible."
"You brought it up. And I am feeling quite weary..." She shot him a glare, and he leaned in closer. "You'd better hold on tight," he crooned, giddy from the terror in her expression.
"You don't scare me," she retorted, but he felt her fingers grip the fabric of his shirt a little tighter. "Not one bit." A purr of contentment rumbled in his throat as he drew her closer.
"That's a shame," he said into her hair.
The stone hallway around them was growing busier with every step they took, full of figures in various stages of dress stirring from slumber. At his side, Catherine was growing increasingly tense. Her gaze darted warily from one wall to the other much like a rabbit's; scanning each face, searching for predators. For a horrible moment, Grindel's smirking face surfaced in Adeon's thoughts, and he felt his jaw set.
He's not...he isn't...right,
she had protested. Not for the first time, Adeon wondered fervently what sort of exchange had gone on without him.
