Princess of Beasts - Chapters Thirteen and Fourteen (Patreon)

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Chapter Thirteen

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Princess Nira paced back and forth across the wide, bare wood-paneled hallway in the lower decks. Everything here was designed for the beasts who dwelled in the lowest decks. The corridors and doorways were large enough even for dragons to comfortably traverse. There was no carpet on the floors, just sturdy flooring scruffed and scratched by a decade or so of immense footballs and angrily unsheathed claws. What few paintings and other decorations once marked the walls had long since been knocked down by the stretching of wings, or the playful roughhousing of creatures many times her size. 

Nira visited the area often. The three gryphons who came here to relax were some of her best friends, and this was the easiest place for them to share a drink together. At least they could generally fit in other areas of the ship as well. For Malaresh, things were not so easy. If Nira restricted his access from this Common Room, the dragon would have few places on the ship left to venture outside his own so-called lair. She imagined it would infuriate him, and that was exactly why she was considering it. If nothing else, it would show him how she felt when she realized he’d only come down here to pick a fight with the gryphon, after all. 

The Princess supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. Malaresh probably thought he had honored his promises. In the dragon’s mind, not using his claws or his teeth probably equated to ensuring the gryphon was not badly harmed. Even if she confronted him about it, he’d probably give her some bullshit about how humans simply did not understand the ways of dragons, or gryphons. After all, they had their own codes of honor, their own morals, and Nira knew sometimes she just had to let them sort out their issues their own way. Still, she brought the dragon down here to talk to the gryphon. Fighting him was supposed to be a last resort. Malaresh, it seemed, had other ideas. 

Yet none of that was what had really pissed Nira off. The fighting was to be expected, really. Wasn’t as if it was the first time the dragon got into a fight after promising not to, or the first time she’d seen him beat the crap out of something. Maybe violence was in dragon nature, or maybe it was just his nature. Of all her ship’s crew, Malaresh was far and away the hardest one for her to read, or ever know what to expect from. 

But she’d sure as hell never expected him to use his fire inside the ship. That was what really pissed her off. There were very few things she’d ever expressly forbidden her crew from doing, and fewer still for Malaresh. After all, she wasn’t exactly in control of the dragon. But as far as she could tell, he’d always respected her authority over the ship, and her responsibility to keep its occupants safe. And one of the only things she’d ever outright ordered him not to do? 

Blast his fucking fire inside my ship. 

Nira balled up her fists, clenching her jaw. She paced back and forth a few times, trying to tell herself the dragon must have had his reasons. At least…she hoped he did. If his only excuse for lighting her ship on fire in flight was because his pride was afraid of losing a fight he picked? She was going to rip one of his damn horns off and beat him with to death with it. Granted, it had only been a very small fire, with no real lasting damage done, but that wasn’t the point. 

“Nira…” An soft voice, and a gentle touch on her shoulder pulled her from his thoughts. “Everything’s alright, now. Try and relax a little before you grind your teeth down to nothin’.” 

The princess took a deep breath, setting her hand atop Rog’s. The gnoll had arrived a little while ago, and spent the entire time apologizing for things that would have been out of his control, anyway. Nira had given him the night off, told him she could handle the dragon’s return on her own. Hell, she’d damn near ordered him to go and relax. While she was waiting for Malaresh, Rog had been spending time with drinking and socializing Kasis and Vekk. His freshly washed fur, and still clean gold and black clothing, told her he’d cut his night short to come help her as soon as he heard about the fight. 

With a sigh, Nira turned to Rog, and laid her head against the gnoll’s chest. She closed her eyes a moment, focusing on the steady, soothing thump of her lifelong friend’s heartbeat. The gnoll gently hugged her, stroking her hair with the other hand. Despite her anger, Nira was glad the gnoll was there. She hated that Malaresh’s actions had cost him his night off, but his steadying presence was, as always, a comfort. To think that people used to think gnolls were monsters, to imagine that the Union still did…it made her sick. 

“Sorry I wasn’t here to stop him.” Rog stroked her head again, resting his muzzle atop it. 

Nira scowled, slapping his arm. “Stop apologizing. We both know you wouldn’t have had any more luck than I did.” 

“Yeah, but…still shoulda been here.” Rog flicked his tail, a frustrated grimace washing over his muzzle. “Soon as I heard the chimes, I shoulda got up from the poker table, grabbed my axe, and ran my ass down here.” 

“Oh, yes,” Nira said, drawing back with a smile. “Because if anything can calm down a furious dragon, it’s an aggressive gnoll barring his way with an axe.” 

Rog only shrugged. “He’d have felt so bad about trampling me to death that he woulda forgotten all about the gryphon.”

Nira laughed at that, then gave the gnoll a playful shove. “Hilarious.” She glanced up the corridor, to where she’d sent most of the guards. She wanted to prevent anyone else from coming to the lower decks commons, but also give Malaresh and Alakor a little space when they finally left. “You should get back to Kasis and Vekk now that everything’s calmed.” 

“Nah,” Rog said, shaking his head. “Someone’s gotta soothe your nerves. Besides, they’re probably doing something else, now that they’re alone.” 

“Probably.” 

Nira turned back towards the Commons Area doors, where the three gryphons and Amelia waited. They’ll all waited behind to watch over her, as much as Malaresh. She was certainly happy to have them all there to help soothe her frazzle nerves and furious anger. Their presence alone had been a great comfort. Once Rog arrived, they gave her some space with the gnoll. Now, Jirril and Amelia were both watching Malaresh and Alakor through the small opening. Sivik and Lissir lounged together nearby, speaking softly. 

Rog put his hand on her shoulder. “You know what I mean? Since they’re alone, they’re probably-”

“Yes, Rog,” Nira said, swatting his hand. “I know.” 

Rog paused a beat, grinning. “…Fucking.” 

Rather than take the bait, Nira tried to turn the tables. “Oh, you’re right!” She spun on her heel, pushing him down the hall. “Quick, go see if they’ll let you join in!” 

The gnoll barked raucous laughter. “Hah! I don’t think it was that kind of invitation, earlier. Though…we were about to start playin’ strip poker when I left.” 

Nira shook her head, smiling. Somehow, Rog always helped ease even the heaviest of weights form her mind. “Strip poker? With Kasis and Vekk?” 

“Yeah, why not?” Rog folded his arms, perking his ears. “It sounds fun.” 

“For them, sure.” Nira poked the gnoll’s belly. “You know Kasis is really good at counting cards, right?” 

“Wait…really?” Rog’s ears drooped, and a sneer twisting up his muzzle. “No wonder I keep losing every time I play her!” 

“Maybe you should be playing strip poker then.” Nira poked him again, smirking. “That way all you’ve got to lose is your clothing.”  

“True…” Rog scratch the thick ruff of fur on the back of his neck. “Better my clothes than my coin. Or my bullets. Or my booze.” 

“And, after the other morning?” Nira made a show of glancing down at the gnoll’s crotch. “She’s already seen what you’re packing, anyway. So you really don’t have anything to lose.” 

The gnoll laughed, ears splaying back. “Oh yeah. Kinda forgot about that. She did seem pretty interested.” 

“That she did,” Nira said, sharing his laughter. “Probably the first time she’s seen a gnoll naked. Maybe she didn’t know those things came in that size. Now come on.” She walked towards the gryphons. “Let’s go see if anything’s changed.” 

Rog followed at her side, his bushy tail wagging. “So, if I go play strip poker with them sometime, you gonna come play too?” 

Nira grinned at the thought, shrugging. “If I ever got invited, I might! Could be fun, with enough drink.” 

“You guys talkin’ about strip poker with Vekk and Kasis?” Amelia called out as they approached her. As Jirril sat on his haunches, watching through the opening, Amelia scratched his neck feathers. “I love playin’ with them. When’s the next game?” 

Nira stared at the other woman. “Wait, you’ve played with them, too?” 

“Oh yeah, couple times now.” Amelia lifted a hand away from gryphon-petting duties to rub her chin. “It’s a hell of a lotta fun. We all get real drunk first, though. Kasis is ridin’ a real hot streak, though, I ain’t see her outta much more than her jumpsuit yet.” 

Nira rolled her eyes, sighing. “She counts cards, Amelia.” 

“Oh…” Amelia curled her lip. “Well, shit.” Then she laughed and went back to petting Jirril’s indigo feathers. “Still had a lotta fun. You gonna come play too, next time?” 

“If I get a damn invitation!” Nira threw her hands up. “How come everyone’s getting invited to this stuff but me?” 

“Cause he’s a gnoll,” Amelia said, jerking a thumb at Rog. “They’re up for anything. And me? I’m a woman of the people. But you?” She shot the princess a look of feigned disdain. “You’re a stuffy, uptight royal. Everyone knows you don’t want nothin’ to do with all the dirty drinkin’ games us peasants play.” 

“The hell I don’t!” Nira laughed, thumping Aemlia on the shoulder. “I’ll drink, and strip you peasants under the table!” Then she blinked, trailing off. “That…sounded different in my head.” 

“Drinking and stripping?” Jirril warbled chirping laughter. The blue and gray gryphon sat on his haunches just before the slightly parted doors. “That sounds like my kind of table!” He flicked his feathery tail against the floor. “And my kind of game. How do I join in, darlings?” 

“You can’t play,” Amelia said, tweaking his ear. “You don’t wear clothes, so you don’t have anything to take off when you lose a hand.”

“That’s not fair!” Jirril slapped his paw against the floor. “That’s discrimination against nudists.” 

Nira giggled, joining Amelia in petting the male gryphon. “Unless other gryphons suddenly start wearing clothes and you don’t, you’re not a nudist.”

“Can I least join in for the drinking part?” Jirril leaned his head into the women’s touch. “And watch the stripping?” 

“Now you’re just fantasizing,” Amelia said, playfully swatting his head. 

Jirril ducked, hissing. “Watch the feathers! Don’t muss me.” He tilted his head, gazing up at the women and Rog with one eye, ears splayed and beak half open in smug gryphon smile. “Tell you what. How about I just start out on my belly, but take a series of increasingly provocative, and exposed positions? You can’t say you wouldn’t enjoy seeing that!” He fluffed up his indigo feathers. “Just look at me, I’m gorgeous!”

“You’re something, alright,” Nira said, smoothing down the feathers on the back of his neck. She leaned against him, trying to peer through the doors. She couldn’t get a proper angle, though, and could only see a bit of white feathers and black scales. “So, has anything changed? What are they doing now?” 

“Well, they’re not petting me, that’s for certain.” Jirril gave a plaintive warble, hanging his head. “It’s quite dismaying!”

“Two people petting you isn’t it?” Amelia rubbed his ears, shaking her head. 

“Of course not!” Jirril rustled his wings against his back. “A beautiful gryphon such as myself can never have enough petting.” He turned his head to give Rog a baleful glare. “Especially when someone is just standing there, not petting the gryphon like he should be.” 

Rog heaved a sigh, wading in around Amelia and Nira to start petting the gryphon’s back and wings. “Happy?” 

“Happier, anyway.” Jirril thrummed a raspy purr, even as he twisted his head to smile at Sivik and Lissir. “Ladies?” 

Sivik flared up her crown feathers, glaring at him. “Don’t even think about demanding we pet you.”

Jirril leaned onto his haunches, holding his forepaws up. “Wouldn’t dream of it! It’s simply not proper to ask another gryphon for pettings. Rather, I was going to suggest you come sit with me, and we share the pettings.” 

“Somehow,” Lissir said, tilting her gray-feathered head. “I suspect you’d keep hogging them, and find a way to rope us in, as well.” 

“Well…” Jirril circled a paw before setting them both back down. “If you offered, I wouldn’t say no. Be terribly impolite.” 

Nira stroked the gryphons throat, trying not to laugh. “Jirril, why are you like this?” 

“I just told you, its because I’m gorgeous!” He stretched his forelegs in front of himself, splaying his paws. “Wouldn’t you be like this, if you were me?” 

“Must be some remnant of bird evolution.” Amelia stroked him down to his shoulders, then scratched his neck all the way back up. “You know, like peacocks. Look how showy the males get! Jirril’s just like that, only it bleeds into his ego, and since gryphons can talk? He gets to show off with his beak, too.” 

Jirril twisted his head around to offer Amelia the same smarmy gryphon smile he’d given the female gryphons. “Oh, you’re right about that, my darling, I do so love to show off what I can do with my beak.” 

“You know why he’s really like that, right?” Lissir stretched her wings out, yawning. 

“Because he has balls?” Sivik warbled giggling laughter. “The swamp clans with colorful males are notorious.”

Jirril fluffed himself up, cocking a hind leg as if to show himself off. “I do, they’re fantastic, and yes, we are!” He put a forepaw to his chest. “Notoriously magnificent.” 

“Besides all that.” Lissir waved her forepaw at him dismissively. “It’s because you keep encouraging him. The more you pet him whenever he wants it, the more he’s going to ask for it.” 

As much as Nira knew it was true, she also knew she wasn’t likely to stop any time soon. “I think you’re right. He’s like a cat that won’t stop flopping into your lap for attention. No matter how much you may sigh, you’re still gonna pet the damn cat.” 

“Oh!” Jirril ruffled up his wings, smiling at everyone. “I know! How about this?” He waggled a forepaw. “Since I don’t have any clothes to take off, I could put clothes on!”

Nira ran a hand back through her hair. “Are you back on the damn strip poker thing again?” 

“I refuse to be excluded!” Jirril puffed his feathers out all around his body. “So the bipeds will take clothing off, and Malaresh and I-”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Nira glowered at the gryphon. “Since when is Malaresh involved?” 

“Since now!” Jirril turned his head to preen a wing. “If I’m playing, he’ll certainly want to play.” 

“Oh, Gods,” Nira said, laughing. “I can hear it now.” She lowered her voice into the deepest, brassiest tone she could manage. “I am victorious. Now…disrobe for me, Maiden!”

Amelia laughed with her, rubbing Jirril’s neck. “Yeah, that kinda does sound like what he says.” 

Nira blinked, glancing her way. “And when does he say that, exactly?” 

“Oh, whenever.” Amelia focused her attention on the gryphon, rubbing him harder. “Who’s a good bird!” 

“I am, of course!” Jirril arched his neck into her touch. 

Nira chuckled, nudging Rog with her elbow. “I get the feeling Amelia’s ‘disrobed’ in front of the dragon before.”

Amelia only shrugged. “If I’ve been out riding him or the birds on a long mission, I want a bath when I come back. Sometimes it’s just easier to use their tub.” 

“Oh really?” Rog made a bawdy, growling noise. “I just thought that was a dirty rumor.”

Amelia lifted her hands away from the gryphon long enough to wave them around, feigning panic. “Oh no, creatures who never wear clothes have seen me naked! How will I ever bare the shame?”

“Point taken, Amelia.” Nira gently grasped Jirril’s ear and gave it a playful shake. “Not that this one would know shame if it bit him on the ass.” 

Jirril only smiled at her. “Is that where you humans like to be bitten?” He glanced at Amelia, beak open. “Shall I remember that, for the next time you need to use our tub?” 

Amelia flicked the tip of the gryphon’s beak, making him yelp. “Don’t make me start bathing with my rifle.” 

“The way you fondle that thing, I’m surprised you doesn’t already bathe with it.” Rog barked laughter, flicking his tail. 

Jirril gave an indignant squawk. “I am not an ‘it’! And any fondling that may or may not have occurred-”

“The rifle!” Amelia slapped the gryphon across the back of his head. “He’s talking about my rifle!” She shot the gnoll a dirty look. “Which I do not fondle.” 

Rog tilted his head. “Is that cause you’re too busy fondling the gryphon’s ‘rifle’ instead?” 

Amelia balled up her fists and took a threatening step towards the gnoll. “You’re about to get fondled by my boot!” 

The gnoll gave a mock yelp and hurried around behind the princess, pretending to cower behind the human woman. “Quick, Princess, protect me!” 

“I am not your shield!” Nira tried to move away but Rog stuck just behind her. “Let alone your…your crotch protector!” 

Jirril pushed himself to his feet in a sudden, smooth movement, forcing everyone to step away from the doors. “I think they’ve finished in there. Give them some room!” He stretched out a wing in a grand, sweeping motion, pushing everyone back. 

Nira batted at his wing as she moved aside. “You’re the one sprawled in the damn way.” 

Lissir peered through the cracked doors again. “Alakor’s approaching first.” She nipped at her sister’s neck, ushering her further down the hall. “Let’s let the Princess talk to them without us looming.” She lifted her head to glance back at Jirril. “You too. You can comfort your scaly lover after Nira’s finished screaming at him.” 

“Oh, very well.” Jirril brushed past Nira on his way down the hallway. “Don’t be too harsh on him. He had his reasons, and Alakor seems fine. Besides, it was only a little fire.” 

“How’d you like your bed set a little bit on fire?” Amelia shoved at the gryphon’s haunches. “Get moving, you oversized feather house cat.” 

Nira rubbed her forehead. “I’ll only yell at him a little, for now. I’ll yell more in the morning, when he’s hungover. That way it’ll really hurt.” 

The gryphons all moved to wait further down the hallway, leaving just Nira, Rog, and Amelia to greet Alakor when he emerged from the Commons Area doors. Malaresh must have been waiting to talk to her without the gryphon around. That part was perfectly fine, but he’d damn well better have something useful to tell her for all the trouble he’d caused. For now, she focused her attentions on Alakor.

The white gryphon emerged from the doors, limping just a little. He also wobbled slightly every few steps. Nira couldn’t tell where the line between pained limp and drunken wobble was. He’d certainly taken a hell of a beating from the dragon, but the two of them had also drank an awful lot of liquor after finishing their brawl. A few splotches of dried blood still marked his beak and his white pelt, and she was sure his beak, head, and quite a few other areas were going to be heavily bruised, but he didn’t seem to have suffered any serious injuries. Nira was thankful that Malaresh kept his promise about that, at least. 

“Alakor.” Nira stepped towards him, flanked by her two officers. A pang of guilt struck her, cold and sharp in her belly. She’d promised no harm would come to him while he was here, and failed to keep him safe. “I am deeply sorry-”

“Don’t apologize.” The gryphon managed a little smile, his ears slightly perked. He lifted a forepaw, pads towards her. “You’ve nothing to be sorry for. He wanted a fight, so I gave him one. If anything, I should apologize to you, for fighting on your ship.” The gryphon bowed his head, touching his beak to the floor. “I apologize for causing your crew trouble, and for the damages.” 

Nira grit her jaw, balling up her hands. The gryphon didn’t sound drunk. If anything, he sounded as if everything had gone as he expected. “I’m guessing you knew that was going to happen.” 

Alakor lifted his head again. “Dragons and snow gryphons do not have a pleasant history. I assumed he’d come to throw me a beating, and now he has. Given the way you arrived with him, I’d wager he threatened to do more than just beat me.” 

The Princess decided against giving the gryphon the specifics. “There were more detailed threats, yes. I tried to stop him, but-”

“He’s a dragon.” The gryphon shook his head. “Short of putting a very large caliber round into his skull, I doubt there’s anything you could have done to stop him. I appreciate the effort, but you need not guilt yourself. Trust me.” Alakor fluffed himself up, lifting his black-tipped crown feathers. “It’s better this way.” 

“Better?” Nira arched a brow. “Better than someone dying, yes.”

“True, but not what I meant.” Alakor turned, gazing back the way he’d come. Malaresh busied himself stowing away the last of the empty bottles and drinking vessels. The gryphon clicked his beak, watching him. “He was going to fight me eventually, one way or another. Better to get it out of the way immediately, under controlled circumstances, with rules about claws and such. Otherwise, tension would have built between us, day by day.” He settled onto his haunches, sighing. “When it finally exploded, it would have been in an outburst of uncontained fury, with claws, and beaks, and teeth, and blood.” He glanced down at a few red stains marring his chest feathers. “Well, more blood. A fight like that, erupting at the wrong time, that’s how people die, and things get destroyed. No, no, this was for the best.” He preened at the stained feathers, and spat one to the floor. “At least we have an understanding now, to an extent. I don’t think you will see us fighting again.” 

“I sure as hell hope not.” Nira took a deep breath, and ran a hand down her face. “Alright, if that’s the way you see it, I’m willing to leave it there. But I’d like the girls to escort you back to your quarters for the night. I’ll send Amelia around in a bit. She’ll bring medics to give you a thorough examination.” Nira wagged a single finger at him, cutting off any potential protest. “Which is mandatory.” 

Alakor pushed himself back up to all fours. “I understand.” As Sivik and Lissir approached him, he bowed his head to the female gryphons. “Thank you for standing up for me, earlier.” 

Lissir grunted and clacked her beak. “Just following our orders, really. We’re in charge of your security too, after all.”

“Nonetheless, I do appreciate you helping to set the rules, and keep claws sheathed.” He mantled his wings against the ground, then returned them to his back as he lifted his head. “Ready when you are, my beauties.” 

Sivik gave an irritable sounding hiss as she turned away. “Gets his ass kicked once, and he’s right back to the smooth talk and flattery.” 

“This way, Snowballs.” Lissir stretched her wing to brush it across his back, guiding him down the hallway.

Only when Alakor was long gone did Malaresh enter the hallway, and approach Nira. By then, the hottest fires of her anger had dwindled a bit to smoldering coals. She gestured for Jirril to go and see him first. She’d waited this long to chew the dragon out, the least she could was give his lover a moment to check on him. 

The blue and gray gryphon hurried over to the dragon, hugging Malaresh around the neck with both forelegs. Jirril stroked the dragon’s neck, and Malaresh stretched his vast, ebony wings forward to enshroud the gryphon with them. The dragon tucked his head under his wings, further muffling their whispered exchange. Nira turned away and leaned up against the wall. Under the circumstances she couldn’t give them much privacy, but she could at least avoid staring at them. 

Malaresh soon withdrew his wings, and Jirril pulled away from him. The gryphon padded over to Nira, then settled on his haunches alongside her. He brushed his beak across her shoulder, his voice gentle. “Thank you, for that. Now you may yell at him.”

Nira rubbed the gryphon’s beak, then smoothed back his ears with both hands. “I’d have yelled a lot more a little while ago. But the night’s young.”

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Chapter Fourteen

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The dragon settled back on his haunches, in the middle of the hallway, his eyes on Nira. He was silent as she approached him, and she could only imagine he was steeling himself to take whatever onslaught she was about to unleash. She strode up to him, her arms folded. Nira tipped her head back to glare up at him, her eyes boring into Malaresh’s. Several moments of silence passed before she finally spoke. 

“You know we’re on an airship, right?” She unfolded her arms again, waving her hand. “And that we’re flying, thousands of feet above the earth? In an airship?” She jabbed her fingers against his scales. “A flammable fucking airship?” 

Malaresh took a slow breath. He rustled his wings, then let out a great, weary sigh. “I should not have used my flame.” 

“No fucking shit!” Nira jabbed him again, then balled up her fist. “Because allow me to fucking repeat myself! We’re flying on a gods-damned airship! What do you think is going to happen to all of us if some arrogant dragon accidentally lights it all on fire, just because he’s losing a fight he started to sate his own fucking pride?” 

“I was not losing the fight, I was-”

“Answer the fucking question!” Nira punched the dragon’s lower chest, scraping her knuckles on his scales and jarring her wrist. “What happens to all of us if you light the ship on fire, and we can’t control it in time?” 

Malaresh shifted his weight, curling his tail around his paws. “We die.”

“We die!” Nira punched him again, heedless of the fact the angry gesture hurt her more than it hurt him. “We all fucking die, because you broke the one rule I made you swear to! The one fucking rule! No!” She slugged his scaled chest again with each word. “Fire! Inside! The! Ship!” 

Malaresh winced, though Nira was certainly it was more from embarrassment at being berated by a creature a tenth his size than from any physical discomfort she might be causing. “I was careful not to-”  

“No!” Nira glanced down, took aim, and stomped on his forepaw. This time she did intend it to hurt.

“OW!” Malaresh yanked his forepaw up, shaking it and hissing. “What are you doing? That hurts!” 

“Good! Since nothing else seems to get through to you, I’ll stomp the other one, next!” She snatched his front paw in both hands, tugging it down to glare up at his face. “I don’t want to hear your gods-damned excuses! The rule is not, a little fire inside the ship! Nor is it, fire is allowed when carefully applied! The rule is no fire!” Nira tried to hurl the dragon’s hand down in disgust, but managed little more than pushing it out of her grasp. 

“I am sorry.” Malaresh lowered his head, his muzzle hovering before head. His ears drooped, and there was genuine contrition in his voice. At least, Nira hoped it was genuine. She could never quite be sure with the dragon. “I have violated your trust, and for that I genuinely apologize. I…let my anger and my pride get the better of me, and…acted foolishly, endangering your ship and your crew. I will accept whatever punishment you believe fitting.” 

Nira took the deepest breath she could, running her hands back through her hair. That was a more direct, more sincere apology than she expected. While it was possible the dragon was simply trying to manipulate his way out of trouble, Nira did not believe that the case. If nothing else, this ship was Jirril’s home, too. 

“Understand something, Dragon.” Nira tapped her finger against the sensitive area between the dragon’s nostrils. “A serious fire, inside this ship, is one of the most dangerous things we could ever deal with. Yes, you only used a small amount of your flame, and yes, we put it out quickly. This time. But half the damn ship’s made of wood, dragon. If things go south, it could burn through the ship before anyone could ever stop it. And then all we can do is hope to land quickly enough to give some of the crew a chance to evacuate before they burn to death, or choke on fumes. Or, if the fire burns through something vital too fast?” She shrugged, shaking her head. “We all go down with the ship. Including you…” She thrust a finger at Jirril. “And him, and the girls. Your wings aren’t gonna do you any good if you can’t get outside in time to use them. Hell, we don’t even have the escape vessels we were meant too. Those we once had, have long since been scavenged for parts. There’s a reason I gave you that rule. It’s the same reason things like cooking are so tightly regulated, and why Vekk’s got some many rules about engine upkeep, boiler maintenance, and so on.” 

Malaresh stared down at his own forepaws, silent. Behind her, Amelia and Rog waited. She glanced back at them, inclining her head towards the dragon, curious to see if they had anything to add. After a moment, Rog stepped forward. 

“Look, Dragon.” He took a few steps forward, and put a steadying hand on Nira’s shoulder. “We’re all glad you’re one of us. But…you can’t do this again. You can’t endanger the ship. If that gryphon was an active enemy, and tryin’ to kill you? If you were protecting Nira? Sure, we’d cut you some slack, since it was so easily put out.”

“That’s a big part of it, actually.” Amelia walked up on the other side of Nira. “Not just that you broke Nira’s fire rule, but that you did it in a fight that you picked, just cause you were made.” She held her hands up, warding off any reply. “I don’t wanna hear what his people did to yours, that ain’t a part of this right now. You went there to start a fight you didn’t have to, and you chose to use your fight to make sure you won. It wasn’t life or death, you weren’t protecting anyone, you were just mad.” 

“That’s right.” Nira slapped the back of her hand against her palm. “That’s what really pisses me off. Maybe I sound like I’m overreacting, or overblowing the threat of you using your fire aboard the ship. After all, the ship’s made to engage in sustained combat. The whole crew is trained in fire suppression. Everyone knows where the nearest water storage tanks are, where the pressure hoses are, what areas can be sealed off and how to do so, and on and on. But combat’s different. Everyone’s awake, active, and at battle stations. It’s the middle of the damn night right now, and most of the ship’s asleep. It’s the worst damn time to have a fire, cause it’s going to take the longest to get an organized response.” She wrung her hands, sighing. “In the end, no, you blasting your fire in the Commons Area tavern probably isn’t going to crash the ship. But that isn’t the point. The point is, you…” Nira scowled at the dragon. “You said it yourself. You violated my trust.” 

“Yes, I did.” Malaresh bowed his head till his muzzle brushed the floor, near Nira’s boots. “I apologize again. And I promise upon my honor, and my ancestors’ honor, it will not happen again.” 

Nira had never heard the dragon use those terms before. She glanced at Jirril who gave her a sly nod as if to say, yes, that was a big deal for a dragon. Nira eached out and touched the dragon’s neck. “I really have little choice but to take you at your word. But I hope you realize this is the sort of thing I could have you exiled from the ship, for.” Malaresh tensed under her touch. Jirril sucked in a breath, his crown feathers flared. Nira let them worry for a moment before clarify. “I could but I won’t. You’ve a home here, with us.” She tilted her head towards the gryphon. “With Jirril. You got…carried away in a fight, but, everyone makes mistakes.” 

“Everyone gets carried away in fights.” Rog snorted, glowering at the princess a moment. “And sparring matches.” 

The dragon slowly lifted his head, then pressed his muzzle to Nira’s hand, gentle. “I thank you for your mercy in allowing me to stay, Your Highness.” 

Nira patted his nose, unsure how to feel about all his sudden formality. Made her feel as if she was taking part in some kind of ancient draconic ritual she did not know the rules for. “You’re welcome. Besides…” She gave his muzzle a gentle rub, then dropped her hand. “You’re our only dragon. And just because I’m letting you stay doesn’t mean I’m not still pissed at you.” 

The dragon nodded once. “I understand.” He cocked his head. “What punishment am I to suffer then, till your fury is assuaged?” 

“Honestly, I don’t know.” She glanced around at the others. “You and Alakor did a pretty good job of punishing each other, already. Speaking of which, how’re you feeling?” 

“Perfectly fine.” The dragon shook himself, thumping his tail. His spines scratched at the floor. “Hardly a bruise on me.” 

“Your swollen jaws say otherwise.” With her anger abating, Nira took a moment to look the dragon over. His frills looked discolored where the gryphon had struck a number of blows around the sides of his head. Broken scales and scattered hints of dried blood along the dragon’s jaws marked other bruised areas. “I want the medics to look at you, too. Before you sleep.” 

Malaresh hissed, lashing his tail against the wall, adding a few more scratches. “Must they? I hate the medics! Always poking, and prodding, and sticking me with things, and looking in places!” 

“I know you do.” Nira smirked, reaching out to cradle the dragon’s jaws in her hands. “So let’s call that phase 1 of your punishment. A thorough…very thorough…medical examination. And you will do, and take, everything you’re told, no matter how distasteful.” She ran her hands up along his jawline, to where they met his head. The scales there felt very hot, and a few more showed signs of splitting and cracking. Just behind his jaws, the top of his neck was noticeably swelling up. “This is where he punched you, when you were choking him.” Nira touched one of the swollen areas, and the dragon yanked his head back, hissing. “Sorry.” 

Malaresh tossed his head, snarling. “Fucking gryphon hit me in the fire glands!” He reached up, rubbing one with a paw, wincing. “Could hardly see straight for a few moments.” He set his paw back down, licking his muzzle. “Couldn’t believe he did that.” 

“You were choking him, weren’t you?” Amelia crossed her arms. “What’d you expect him to do?”

“I didn’t expect him to know how to target a dragon’s fire glands in the first place.” Malaresh worked his jaw around. “Dragons sure as hell never do that to one another, unless their life is on the line.”

“A, he’s not a dragon,” Amelia said, ticking off her fingers. “And B, in the moment, he probably felt like his life was on the line.” 

“Regardless, sharpshooter,” Malaresh said, still working his jaws. “Hitting in the fire glands, in non-lethal combat, is highly offensive to a dragon.” 

Nira chuckled to herself. “So should I tell him to just kick you in the balls, next time?” 

Malaresh glared at her, ears flat and frills extended. “Oh, what a hilarious jest!” He tossed his head. “And honestly, that would be less offensive, yes. Those are expected targets in pride battles and sparring bouts. Fire glands are not.” He rubbed his throat again, wincing. 

Rog rubbed one of his ears. “Dragons are weird.” 

Nira glanced his way. “What do gnolls consider off limits in fights like that?” 

Rog tilted his head, perking one ear and splaying the other. “Nothing. Just don’t kill ‘em, and try not to break anything. That’s about it.” 

Nira grinned, shook her head, and returned her attention to the dragon, her smile fading. “Seriously though, you’re not injured, are you?” 

“I don’t think so, no.” The dragon set his paw back down. “I spat blood a few times, but I think they’re just bruised. They should heal fine like everything else.” 

“Good.” Nira put her hand on Amelia’s arm. “I still want the medics to do a thorough assessment of all his injuries. Make sure he’s not still bleeding inside his jaws or anything.” 

Amelia nodded once. “Understood.”

Malaresh rumbled his disapproval but did not protest. “I suppose I should expect further punishments?”

Nira crossed her arms again, leaning against Rog. “Honestly, I don’t know yet. Let me string you along for the night, at least.” 

The dragon grunted, cocking his head. “I hope you’re not planning to…” He cocked his head. “How did you so eloquently phrase it earlier? Put your boot in my nuts?”

A hint of a smile cracked Nira’s otherwise stoic façade. “Depends on how much more you piss me off. Though it might help you learn your damn lesson if the medics had to inspect those, too.”

Amelia laughed. “Who would that inspection be punishing more, the dragon, or the medics?” 

Nira chuckled but her smile faded just as swiftly as it arrived. “Either way, Malaresh, now I damn sure expect you to fly us to The Emplacement.” 

“Ugh.” The dragon groaned. “That again? I suppose I have fewer grounds upon which to decline, now.”

“Damn right. But…” Nira trailed off, deciding to cut the dragon some slack for the moment. “It’s late, you’re in pain, I’m angry…we’ll talk about in the morning. Before I send you back to your chambers, though…did it work?” 

Malaresh tilted his head. “Did what work?” The tiniest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of the dragon’s mouth. 

Nira only glared at him. “Not in the mood, Dragon. Don’t play coy. You sent everyone out of the room so you could try your dragon mind games on the gryphon. So spit it out. Is he telling the truth? Can we trust him?” 

“Yeah, lizard.” Amelia nudged the tip of his tail with her boot. “Did your dragon tricks work, or what?” 

“To an extent.” 

“Alright, then Dragon. Let’s hear it. Give me something useful, and maybe I’ll consider you punished enough already.”

“Very well.” Malaresh arched his neck. “I believe the gryphon’s defection is genuine, but I am not certain how completely we can trust him. Because…” The dragon splayed his frills out, his tail tip twitching. “I do not believe he is being wholly truthful about the reasons for his defection.” 

Nira took a slow, deep breath. She should have known better than to hope for a simple, concrete answer. Still, she’d take what she could get. “I’m guessing you plan to elaborate in a vaguely mysterious, roundabout way, just so you can hold it over my head a little while longer?” When the dragon only smiled at her, Nira sighed, waving her hand. “Alright then, go ahead.” 

Malaresh licked his nose, collecting his thoughts. After a few breaths, he began. “Do you know what I saw, when I stared into his eyes?” Malaresh stretched a single wing out, gesturing with it in a sweeping motion. “Hatred. Anger, and hatred.” 

Nira scowled as she paced before the dragon. “I don’t like the sound of that.” 

“You say that as if I wouldn’t see the same thing in your eyes.” Malaresh lowered his head towards her, flicking his wing tip at Jirril. “Or his.” He pointed with it to Rog, and Amelia too. “Or his, or hers, or everyone else on this rattling deathtrap.” 

Nira drummed her fingers against the handle of her pistol. “What do you mean?” 

“The Union,” Jirril said. The blue and gray gryphon sat near Malaresh, his feathered tail draped across the dragon’s scaly one. “He’s talking about the Golden Union, right?” Jirril tilted his head back to look up at Malaresh. 

“Yes.” The dragon offered the gryphon a little stroke with his outstretched wing. “I am. After all, what does everyone on his ship hate more than anything else?”

“Sittin’ on your nuts?” Rog grimaced, flattening back his ears. “I hate when that happens.” 

Amelia laughed, glancing at the gnoll. “Not all of his have to worry about that, Rog. I’d say, drinking so much you spend the next day puking till you’re just, dry heaving.” She paused, then shook her head. “No, wait, I don’t hate the drinking part. Just the puking, and heaving. I bet everyone hates that, right?”

Princess Nira pinched the bridge of her nose. “I get that you’re trying to diffuse the tension, but let’s just be serious for a moment.” 

“Oh, yeah.” The gnoll cleared his throat with a growl, then focused on picking a few tangles out of his tail fur. “Definitely what I was doing. Just…diffusing the tension.” 

Nira slugged him on the shoulder. 

“The gnoll’s humorous anatomical troubles aside…” Malaresh rumbled, thumping his spined tail against the floor. “Everyone aboard this ship hates the Golden Union, probably more than anything else. And the hatred I saw in Alakor’s eyes was the same. The more I brought them up, the hotter those flames burned.”

“So you believe his defection to be genuine, because you believe he despises the Golden Union as much as the rest of us.” Nira pivoted on her heel to face the dragon again. “Is that the gist of it?” 

Malaresh nodded once in a single, slow motion. “He mentioned to me that he’s used to being hurt.” The dragon cringed, flattening his ears and frills. “Alakor made it sound as if being beaten was a regular occurrence, and he was…simply grateful to be allowed the privilege of fighting back, for once. Given the cruelty and spiteful bullshit the Union already espouses towards anything they consider a ‘monster’, and the things they do to their non-human captives…” 

The dragon trailed off. Ghosts drifted behind his emerald eyes, and his jaws trembled, a rare display of fear and uncertainty. The dragon swiftly looked away from everyone else, as if to hide his own momentary vulnerability. Jirril shifted positions to lay against the dragon, and offer him gentle comfort. While the gryphon nuzzled at the dragon, Nira turned towards her other friends to give Malaresh and Jirril a private moment. 

It was the Golden Union that Nira and her crew saved Malaresh from in the first place. The Union had captured him just after the end of the war. They held him a while, perhaps trying to break him, and force him into serving their people. Or more likely, she thought, they planned to keep him alive just long enough to stage a grand public execution. He certainly would not have been the first ‘demon’ they’d put down in a public display meant to cow the other non-humans, and rally their own misguided supporters. Whatever the case, Malaresh was in rough shape when they first rescued him. Wounds both old and new littered his body, at the time. Most of them were faded now, dark scars against darker hide. They’d never spoken in detail about the things his captors inflicted upon him, nor did Nira plan to. She sure was hell wasn’t going to make the dragon recount what she could only imagine must have been horrific experiences. 

Nira stepped forward to pat the dragon’s neck. “I think we can safely assume Alakor’s telling the truth about being beaten by his former masters.” She stroked Malaresh’s scales. “The girls made it pretty clear to me that the Union is known for beating their snow gryphons into submission, and for brainwashing them into accepting it. I’d sure as hell want to get the hell away from that, too.” 

“As would I,” Malaresh said, finally returning his attention to the others. He opened draped his half-open wing across Jirril’s back. “I do not believe we need to worry that he still serves the Union. He does not. Nor is he knowingly leading us into a trap. Those things were clear to me, despite the fact he is trained in deception, and in hiding truths.” The dragon tapped unsheathed claw tips against the floor. “There are some things that simply cannot be hidden from my kind. When the truth is written within your eyes, a dragon will always find it.” 

Nira paced again, striding back and forth between Malaresh and her other friends. “And yet, you said he’s not being truthful about the reasons for that defection. I don’t suppose you found out what those reasons were?” 

Malaresh snorted, easing himself down onto his belly alongside the gryphon. “I can tell when he’s being deceptive, Nira, but his thoughts are not written upon his eyes like old script carved into a wall.”

“Of course not.” She turned towards the dragon, trying to remain patient. “But you have suspicious, I assume?” 

“The white bird told me he is defecting to our ship because he refuses to be a slave, any longer.” Malaresh circled a paw in the air. “And because he wishes to be treated, in his words, like a person. He believes this ship was afford him that.” 

Nira glanced at her friends. “Which it will. Because he is a person. But…” She clenched her jaw. “There’s more, isn’t there?” 

Malaresh only shrugged his wings. “Imagine yourself in his place. Your life spend doing the Union’s bidding, trying to avoid another beating, watching your species be treated as nothing more than animals to be sent, headlong, into the fire. If you saw a chance to escape, would you not take it?” 

“Of course.” Nira crossed her arms. Something didn’t add up, and her mind was already trying to piece the puzzle together, even as Malaresh went on. 

“So why isn’t he escaping?” The dragon’s voice took on a sharp edge. “Why doesn’t he flee, while he has the chance?” 

“What do you mean?” Nira studied the dragon’s face, his eyes, looking for any clues to what he was thinking. “He is escaping. He’s escaping the Union, by joining us.” 

Malaresh only tilted his head, his frills lifted. “Is that what you’d call this?” 

Nira heaved a growling sigh, wishing the dragon would just get to the damn point. She hated it when he knew something she didn’t, because there was nothing she could do to stop him from lording it over her as long as he wished. “Dragon, will you just skip to the end?” 

“Earlier…” Malaresh slowly lifted his head, urgency creeping into his voice, bit by bit. “You told me that Alakor believes the Union considers you a threat, again, and that they may be considering an attempt on your life. Correct?” 

Something icy skittered down Nira’s spine, and left her shuddering. “Yes.” 

“Interesting.” Malaresh unsheathed a few claws, studying them. “If I was a snow gryphon looking to escape the Union, I’d fly towards the Broken Teeth, I think. Try and get as far away from Union controlled lands as I could, as quickly as possible.” 

“That’s…” Nira glanced at Rog and Amelia, both of whom shrugged. “That’s the way he told us to go, though.” 

“That’s the way anyone would go. From this area, it’s the easiest way to leave the Union behind. So…” The dragon set his paw back down, claws retracted. “If all he wants is escape, why didn’t he go there? If he left weeks ago, he’d already be out of Union lands. He’d already be free. If all he wanted was to escape the Union, he’d have already done it. Instead, he came here.” 

“Shit.” Nira rubbed her forehead as the pieces all started coming together. “That’s why he’s defecting. He doesn’t want to flee them, he wants to fight them.” 

Malaresh smiled, bowing his head to her. “He wants to fight them. This gryphon is filled with as much hatred for the Union as I am, maybe even more so. And he knows their operations, he knows their plans, he knows their people. And that’s why he’s defecting. He’s joining with the strongest ship in all the world, just in time for his old masters to try and kill its captain. He doesn’t want escape, he wants revenge. If he says they’re coming for you, then they’re coming for you, Nira.” 

“Shit, shit shit.” Nira ran her hands down her face. It had been nearly a decade since she’d sworn off the war, sworn off revenge for her parents, sworn off being an Empress. “So…we do like he said, and, head for the Broken Teeth, before the Union…” Nira trailed off, stomping a boot. “Fuck! They’re already there, aren’t they? The Union. Looking for him! You said it yourself, everyone would expect him to go that way. I bet that’s why there were Union ships at the Emplacement, too. They’re looking for their runaway spy.”

“Indeed.” Malaresh rumbled, as if pleased she’d finally caught up to his thinking. “I believe there is a trap being set, and Alakor is leading us towards it. But the trap is not meant for us.” 

“It’s meant for his old masters,” Nira said, balling up her fists. “We are the fucking trap.” 

“Well, shit.” Amelia folded her arms, glaring at the dragon as if he’d somehow created the situation. After a moment, she told towards the Princess. “So what do we do?” 

Rog growled. “I say we wreck shit up.” 

Nira ground a fist into her palm, clenching her jaw. “If Alakor’s telling the truth about the Union wanting to come after me, then it doesn’t matter what we do. They’ll be coming for us, sooner or later. If we turn away from the Teeth, there’s only so far we can fly till we’re back in Union controlled lands, anyway. We’ve been avoiding this as long as we can, because I don’t want to put any of you in danger, but…” 

“If hell’s coming, Princess, then it’s coming.” Amelia put a hand on Nira’s shoulder, gently squeezing. “Even you can’t hold back the storm, forever.” She tilted her head towards Rog. “So let’s do like the gnoll says, and go wreck some shit.” 

Nira couldn’t help but laugh at that, thankful for her friends comfort, and support. “I suppose I did promise Rog a trip to the Emplacement, anyway.” 

“Damn right you did.” 

“Alright, alright.” Nira held her hands up. “We’ll stick with out plan of heading to the Emplacement, and try to find out why they may be pursuing us again. But I want to talk to Alakor before that…see if we can squeeze any more information out of him.” 

Amelia held up her hands, and slowly made two fists. “Just tell me what to squeeze.” 

“I was thinking metaphorical squeezing, but we’ll see how cooperative he is when we confront him with our suspicions.” She dropped her hands down, resting them on her pistols. “I’m sure as hell not getting into a war on his behalf, but…we already expected we might have to deal with some Union muscle, and guns, so if he wants to kick a few asses, I’m not sure not going to stop him.” She ground her teeth a moment, then glanced at the dragon. “I think that’s all I have for you tonight. Go get some rest. I’ll have some food sent by, after the medics have been around. For now, I’ll defer any further punishments.” 

“That is appreciated. Good night then, Princess.” Malaresh pushed himself up to his paws. “Come along, bird.” Then he gently bit down on the back of Jirril’s neck, tugging the gryphon up to his paws by his scruff. Malaresh padded down the hall, dragging the stumbling, protesting gryphon along with him. 

When they were gone, Amelia gave Nira a sudden, forceful hug. It caught her off guard, but the comfort was certainly appreciated. Nira returned the hug, holding Amelia tightly for several long moments. Amelia rubbed her back, speaking gently into her ear. 

“I know you wanna keep us all safe, Nira. But we’re all a part of this thing, too. These decisions, these fights, these moments in your life? They don’t ever have to be yours, and yours alone.” Amelia hugged her tight, before pulling away and simply holding her hands. “We’re all in this without.” A smile tugged at her lips. “We might only be a buncha peasants, but everyone on this ship is behind you. And…whatever comes next, I’m…I’m always here for you.” She tilted her head towards Rog, standing nearby. “We’re all here for you.”

“Thank you, Amelia.” Nira squeezed her hands. “That…that means everything, to me. I…I know you’re all there, but…it’s nice to hear it spoken, sometimes.”

“Of course.” Amelia let her hands fall away from the Princess’, then put them on her hips, grinning. “Just don’t forget it. Princess, Captain, whatever you wanna be called, you don’t always gotta make these decisions on your own. I joke around a lot, but…I hope you know I’m here for you, if you need me. And you need a serious talk about what we’re gonna do, I’m all for it. Any time you need it.” 

“I know, Amelia, and thank you for that, too.” She took a breath, and then waved down the hall. “I think, for now, I’m going to get a little drunk, and flop into bed. You’d better go make sure Alakor’s not giving the girls too much trouble.” 

“What if he’s givin’ ‘em something else?” Amelia laughed, taking a few steps down the corridor. 

“Then I guess they’ve decided he can be trusted!” Nira laughed with her. “Make sure the medics check him over, though, and for now, don’t bring up what we discussed tonight. When the medics are done with Alakor, take them to see Malaresh. I don’t want that lizard wriggling out of this without an examination.” 

“Got it.” Amelia waved. “See you in the morning, Princess. Try not to be too hung over.” 

“No promises.” Nira turned towards Rog, the only one left in the hallways with her. “Plans for the rest of the night, Rog?” 

“For the night?” The gnoll scratched at his ruff. “Whatever you need me to do.” 

“I think we’re good, actually.” Nira ran her hands back through her hair, sighing. “Been a hell of a day.”

“Yup.” Rog swished his tail a bit, scrunching up his muzzle in vain attempt to stifle a yawn. “Probably oughta just sleep.” 

“Probably.” Nira circled an arm around the gnoll’s waist, flashing him a mischievous grin. “How about instead of that, you escort Her Royal Highness back to her room, and help her get…” She paused, grimacing at her own impending wordplay. “Royally shitfaced?”

“Love to.” Rog scrunched his muzzle. “But I’m gonna drink till I forget that pun.”

“That’s my Guard Captain.” Nira leaned against the gnoll, smiling. “Lead the way.”