Sins of the Father Part Two: Chapter Seventeen (Patreon)

*****

Chapter Seventeen

*****

Valyrym followed his son back towards the camp, clutching his kill to his chest. Even with the carcass tucked up against his body, the weight left his forelegs aching. He shifted the deer, cradling it within his forelimbs. That eased the discomfort some, but carrying prey still left his front legs aching more than the flight bothered his wings.

More stray raindrops struck Valyrym’s wings as he flew. At first, they remained isolated, a few cold, slightly stinging splatters here and there. But soon they multiplied, as the sprinkles became a shower, and the shower became a deluge. By the time they reached the camp, curtains of chilly rain cascaded across the dragons. Water poured down Valyrym’s scales in streaming rivulets, sprayed off his wings with every beat. It was cold. It was uncomfortable.

Valyrym relished it.

“It’s raining, Valar!” The old dragon’s brassy laughter echoed through the downpour. “It’s raining!”

“Yes, Father,” Valar said, glancing back. His silver-gold eyes were dulled slightly by his flight membranes. “I had noticed that!”

Valyrym followed his son to land, touching down in the grassy meadow just beyond their camp sight. He touched down on his hind paws, hopping a few awkward steps while holding his cargo tight. Already, the ground was quiet wet, with puddles and mud squelching beneath his paws. He set the carcass down, then sunk his teeth into its neck to carry it towards the others. Valar did the same, taking his deer towards the gryphon.

The others had been busy while the dragons hunted. A simple rain shelter now stood above the fire pit and surrounding area. It was comprised of an oilskin tarp stretched across a wooden frame, along with a few stakes to hold it in place. The whole thing was easily assembled with a little teamwork, and could be broken down just as quickly. Alia had purchased it at the market they visited days earlier. Alia, Krek, and Vatch now huddled under the tarp, near the modest fire Vatch coaxed back to life. No doubt the urd’thin had kept the flames under more control than usual to avoid setting flame to their new shelter.

Alia and Vatch now wore thick rain cloaks, as well. Given their relative lack of dampness, Valyrym imagined they must have assembled the shelter just in time. Krek, meanwhile, looked sodden and miserable. The gryphon bore scattered bits and pieces of his silvery armor, with the rest of it haphazardly assembled upon the ground nearby, and the helmet alongside his paws. His ebony feathers drooped with damp, while his black fur was matted and slicked down against his body. He sat on his haunches, hunched over beneath the corner of the shelter. Water ran from it, and onto his tail. His ears were back, his beak set, and his eyes narrowed. All together, he looked half his usual size, and twice his usual surliness.

Valyrym set the deer down alongside the shelter. “Alia, look! I caught a deer!” He stood up straight, tapping his paws back and forth. “I caught a deer!”

“You sure did, Val!” Alia hugged her rain cloak around herself, venturing into the rain to wrap her arms around his neck. “I’m so proud of you!” She cupped his muzzle and gave it a kiss, then retreated back out of the rain.

“Oh, well done, Junior!” Krek lifted his head to offer the dragon a gryphon smirk, his beak half open and ears splayed. “Is this your first hunt, little hatchling?”

Valyrym only snorted at him. “Stifle your beak, bird. You shall not belittle my accomplishments, nor suppress my joy today.”

The gryphon tossed his head. “Accomplishments? Yes, congratulations on finally doing something every other dragon in existence does every day of their life.” He waved his paw at the deer carcass. “And is that even a deer? I can hardly tell! What did you do to it, throw it down a cliff? Perhaps next time, you could bring back something less unrecognizable.”

“Now, now, Krek.” Valar set his prey down in the wet grass, outside the shelter. “It was Father’s first hunt in half a lifetime. He did quite well. Now, come share my kill, if you’re hungry.”

Krek flattened his ears. “Out there? In the rain, again? I’ve only just gotten my front half out of that damn downpour.”

Valar shrugged his wings. “Suit yourself. But I’m not waiting for you.” He lowered his head, biting deeply into the deer’s meat.

Valyrym tilted his head, staring at the gryphon. “You look like a drowned rat adorning himself in bits of shiny garbage.”

“How dare you!” Krek rose, trying to fluff himself up. Soaked as he was, his feathers scarcely responded. Those few that did puff up only served to stand out from the rest, making him look even more bedraggled. “I’ll have you know-ACK!” Cold water poured down Krek’s back when he bumped one of the support poles, shaking the whole shelter. “Damn this thing!”

“Bird watch what he do!” Vatch shook a knife at the gryphon. With his hooded rain cloak pulled tight, Vatch was little more than a muzzle and oversized ears sticking out from under a hood. “He knock shelter down again, it go in fire this time!”

Valyrym cocked his head. “Again?”

Krek gave an irritable chirrup. “I did not knock it down. I merely bumped into one of it’s legs. It’s not my fault that-”

“Bird big ass cause much trouble!” Vatch threw his hands up, turning towards the dragon. “Also, Bird is big ass, yes?”

Valyrym rumbled laughter. “Yes, Vatch. The Bird’s a big ass.” He patted his bloodied kill. “Here. Come and cut breakfast for you and Alia from this. Take as much as you’d like. Cook some for later, if you want. I’ll eat the rest.”

The urd’thin cinched his rain cloak even tighter before venturing out from under the shelter. He quickly stripped away a section of deer hide, and then cut long strips of meat. When he’d collected a few of them, he glanced back at Alia. “This enough, you think?”

Alia chewed her lip, then held up a couple fingers. “Two more that size, Vatch. We’ll have snacks for later after they’re cooked.”

While Vatch finished up, Valyrym turned his attention to Alia. “Did the bird knock this thing over, or what?”

“He did, yes.” Alia shook some of the beaded raindrops from her cloak. “He came to beg for my help in getting his armor on, and-”

“I did not beg!” Krek stomped a forepaw on the wet ground.

Alia glanced at the gryphon. “You’re right. You didn’t beg.” She rolled her eyes. “You demanded.” Alia turned back towards the dragon. “Anyway, Vatch and I were already working on getting this shelter up to protect the fire before the rain really set in. I told Krek he’d have to wait because the fire was going to be more important.”

Vatch carried hunks of venison back under the shelter. “Then bird say, nothing more important than gryphon mag…magni…” He glanced up at Alia. “What word, again?”

“Magnificence, Vatch.” Alia crouched near the fire, helping the urd’thin lay the meat out across the flat stones ringing the fire. It sizzled immediately. A delightful aroma soon permeated the otherwise rain-scented air. “Krek said there was nothing more important than a gryphon’s magnificence.”

“Yes, he say this.” Vatch fetched a pouch with seasoning spices in it, sprinkling some across every piece of meat. “Then he bang big ass against tent pole! Knock everything over!”

Krek clacked his beak at the urd’thin. “That is a slanderous lie! My haunches are in perfect proportion.”

Alia straightened up, adjusting her cloak. “Of course that’s the part you’d take issue with.” She waved her hand at the gryphon. “He turned around to go sulk, and sent our hard work toppling right back down. Thankfully, he didn’t break anything. We just had to put it all back up.”

Krek glared at her. “You should be more thankful your precious pole didn’t break anything of mine!” He hissed, lashing his tufted tail. “This stupid shelter scarcely even fits me!”

Alia clasped her hands in feigned supplication. “I’m ever so sorry the isolated village you took us to for supplies didn’t make a gryphon sized shelter. And what was it you said when Vatch and I were debating whether we should buy it? That it was a stupid idea, and it would probably fall apart, anyway?”

“Well, it did, didn’t it?” Krek shook himself, water spraying everywhere. “And I knew who’d end up having to carry it. We poor beasts who don’t even benefit from its meager sanctuary.”

“Bird, it only fell over because you smashed your ass into it.” Valyrym glowered at the gryphon. “Furthermore, I’m the one who’s been carrying it, not you. I think you’re just jealous that Alia and Vatch are still nice and dry while you’re…” He made a show of looking the gryphon over. “Soggy.”

“Soggy?” Krek gave an alarmed squawk. “You’re lucky I don’t just topple this whole flimsy contraption down on the rest of you. Then you’d all be soggy!”

“Firstly, Bird.” Valyrym flicked out a single claw. “I’m already soaking wet. Secondly…” He unsheathed a second claw. “It’s impossible for scales to become soggy.”

“Pipe down, Lellumgurb.” Valar lifted his head, licking blood from his nose. Rain washed more of it down his muzzle in red-tinted rivulets. “Come eat some breakfast, or you’re going to go without.”

“Don’t call me that in front of the others!” Krek shot the dragon a horrified look, his emerald eyes wide.

Valar ignored him, focused on his meal. “I’ll happily eat this whole thing myself, you know. I’m not saving you any.”

“Oh…” Krek heaved a overly dramatic sigh. “Very well. Once more unto hell, it is.”

Valar snorted. “It’s hardly hell, Lellumgurb. And not even you usually complain this much about the rain.”

Krek watched the curtains of water cascading across the meadow for several long moments. “That’s because normally when I see you, I don’t have to fly in it all day. Or wear my armor when I’m soaked. And there’s often a very cheerful hatchling to brighten my spirits. But now all we’ve got is a senile old lizard with a habit of mangling deer.” He took a deep breath, and pulled his wings tight. “But I suppose if I must, I must.” Krek slipped out from under the shelter. Immediately, the pouring rain flattened back the rest of his fur and feathers. He slunk over to Valar, and then flopped down onto his haunches alongside the dragon. Then the gryphon nuzzled Valar’s neck in open plea for pity. “At least put your wing over me.”

Valar groaned, but stretched his indigo-rippled wing out to its full extent, then draped it across the gryphon, sheltering him from the rain. “Gods above, Lellumgurb, but you are the biggest diva.”

Valyrym cocked his head. “What is that you keep calling him? Some pet name for your bird boyfriend?”

“Oh, no,” Valar said, shaking his head. “It’s much worse than that. It’s what my daughter’s taken to calling him, just to get under his feathers.” He arched his neck, grinning down at Krek. Valar lifted his voice to a sing-song pitch. “You’re soggy, Lellumgurb! Soggy bird, soggy bird!”

“Soggy Lellumgurb?” A dangerous smile spread across Valyrym’s muzzle. “Oh, I like that. That might be even better than Soot.”

“Don’t you start!” Krek snapped his beak, glaring sharpened talons at the older dragon. “I’ll not have to return to calling me Soot, let alone call me Lellumgurb. Or Soggy!”

Valyrym merely waved him off. “Shut your beak, Soggy Soot. No one’s listening to you.”

“Yes, Soggy Soot.” Valar snatched the gryphon’s beak in a forepaw, playfully shaking it. “Quiet down, for your complaints shall continue to fall upon deaf ears. Now eat your food.” He released the gryphon, turning his attention to Valyrym. “You too, father. The rest of that one’s yours.”

“Yeah, Val.” Alia crouched near the fire, helping Vatch flip over the slices of seasoned venison. “We’ve got all we need, so I don’t know what you’re waiting for.”

“Very well.” Valyrym lowered his head to his prey. The coppery-sweet scent of its blood infused the smells of rain, and wet gryphon. “I’m simply savoring the moment.”

After all, Valyrym thought, it was a moment to be savored. Though the old dragon had enjoyed the pleasure of fresh kills many times on their journey so far, this was the first such meal he had slain himself. Off the top of his head, he could not remember the last time he’d hunted his own prey. Considering it would have been right before the attack that led to his capture, Valyrym preferred not to dwell on such specifics, anyway.

The dragon rolled the deer over in the wet grass, away from where Vatch had sliced off his own meat. Its blood left crimson swaths that the rain soon rinsed away. Valyrym sniffed at his prey. It still smelled of fear and adrenaline and blood. The age-old familiarity of such scents left his belly rumbling with painful intensity. He licked his muzzle, then bite deeply into the deer. The exhilaration of sharp teeth punching through hide, and into still-warm flesh thrilled him. Blood coated his tongue. He tore away a large piece of flesh, eagerly chewing it a few times before gulping it down. The rich, slightly minerally taste of fresh venison meat was all the more satisfying, knowing he’d caught it himself.

“Oh, gods,” the dragon said, licking his muzzle. “That’s delightful.”

Krek chirped at him. “Keep it in your sheath, dragon.”

Valyrym spared him only a brief glance. “I’ll consider it, but only because I wouldn’t want to embarrass you bird.”

Whatever retorts Krek may have spat at him were lost to the rain, and to Valyrym’s excitement at devouring his own prey. All pretensions of savoring his food were soon abandoned as ancient instincts took hold. Valyrym consumed his kill one greedy, half-chewed mouthful at a time. He ate through skin and flesh, muscle and organ alike. Only the most distasteful bits were eventually discarded. The dragon even cracked open the largest bones to slurp and suck out the tender marrow. When Valyrym was finished, there was little left of his carcass fit for a dragon to feed upon. What did remain would serve as meal enough for carrion birds and scavengers.

Valyrym lifted his head, licking blood from his muzzle. He sat up on his haunches, and cupped his forepaws before himself. When enough rain water collected in his paws, he splashed it over his muzzle, rinsing himself. Valyrym repeated the motions several times until his hands and face alike were clean. He settled his front legs back down, gazing around.

Everyone else was finished eating, too. Alia and Vatch were slicing the last of the venison into smaller strips. Valyrym imagined they planned to cook it a little longer until it became something resembling jerky, that they could pack away and eat later in the day. Valar was busy licking blood off Krek’s face and beak. Somehow, the gryphon had managed to look both contented and aggrieved at the same time. His eyes were happily half-lidded, but his ears were pinned. It was as if the gryphon simply could not believe that Valar dared to wash him like he might his own hatchling, and yet also never wanted him to stop.

“Enjoy your meal, Val?” Alia smiled at him from underneath the shelter. “I don’t think I’ve seen you eat that voraciously the entire time we’ve been traveling.”

“Very much so.” Valyrym gave a rumbling purr, stretching his wings out in the rain. “I could use a nap now, though.”

Alia laughed, checking a piece of meat. “I think even you might struggle to sleep in all that rain.”

“It too early for nap!” Vatch inspected another piece of venison, then used a knife to remove it from the rock. He set it on a wooden plate to cool. “We must travel soon, yes?”

“I should imagine so, yes.” Valyrym pushed himself to all fours, wings still draped across the wet ground. “Doesn’t mean I can’t fantasize about napping after a lovely meal.”

Vatch flicked an ear back, transferring another piece of food. “Dragon turned on by strange things.”

Alia giggled, moving the last of the meat to the plate. “Not that kind of fantasy, Vatch.” She smirked at Valyrym. “Or if it is, it’s not one he’s shared with me yet.”

“You’re all hilarious.” Valyrym gazed around again. Puddles increasingly dotted the grassy meadow. Beneath the low gray clouds, they looked almost silvery. Raindrops fell across them in constant eruptive dance. The dragon beat his wings once, spraying water, then folded them against his back. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have puddles to play in.”

Vatch scrunched his furry brow, looking up at Alia. “Dragon getting more senile every day.”

Valyrym turned away from them, careful not to smash his tail right through the canopy’s support poles. He padded away from the shelter, water squelching beneath his paws. As he neared his son and the gryphon, Valyrym slapped a paw against the wet ground, splashing a little water at them. Valar chuckled and Krek glared at him. The gryphon’s reaction only spurred him on. He walked past the two of them, but made a point to thump his tail into a puddle, hard enough to more thoroughly splash the bird.

“Ack!” Krek sputtered, wiping his beak. “You got that on my face!”

Valyrym only smiled back across his wings. “Splishy, Splashy…”

Krek narrowed his eyes, his ears flat. “Don’t you start that nonsense.”

Valyrym cocked his head, lifting his head to imitate a hatchling’s voice. “Splishy-splashy?”

“Father…” Valar lifted a paw, rubbing his muzzle. His eyes were still slightly dulled by his flight membranes, protecting them from the rain. “Please don’t.”

“Splishy…” Valyrym hopped from one set of paws to the other. “Splashy…”

Valar let out a very put-upon sounding sigh. “Father, please.”

The old dragon bounced back and forth, from his left paws to his right and back again. Each jump left little splashes. “Splishy, splashy, splishy, splashy-”

“Father, don’t you-”

“Playing in the rain!” Valyrym slapped his tail down again, spraying the other two. The bird cringed as if he’d been struck, and Valyrym laughed to himself. “Oh come along, Valar. Surely you still like splashing in puddles!”

Valar arched his neck, his frills standing up. “Father, I’m a grown adult. That’s far beneath my dignity.”

“He’s lying!” Krek nipped the dragon’s neck. “He splashes in puddles with his daughter all the time! He even taught her that little song you’re singing.”

Valyrym perked his ears, smiling. “Did he now?”

“That’s different!” Valar tossed his head. “She’s a hatchling! She-”

“And,” Krek said, adding a chirrup loud enough to drown out Valar’s protests. “I have personally witnessed him splashing in puddles and singing that song to himself, when he’s all alone!”

“Oh, shove it under your tail, Soggy Lellumgurb!” Valar snapped his teeth at the gryphon. He yanked his wing back, exposing the gryphon to the pouring rain. “This is what I get for letting you cower beneath my wings.”

Krek only warbled birdsong laughter, shaking himself. “No, this is what you get for telling your father what your daughter calls me!”

Valyrym only smiled at his son, his heart soaring. “Did you really teach your daughter your rain song?”

“I’d hardly call it my rain song, Father, but…” He trailed off, then chuckled to himself. “But, yes, I suppose I did. I think I used to sing it to her, when it rained, without ever even realizing it. I’d take her out to splash around in the puddles, and…” He lifted a forepaw, then lightly smacked it back down against the sodden grass. “Splishy, splashy.”

“Splishy, splashy…” Valyrym swallowed, his throat tightening. “Playing in the rain.”

In an instant, he saw his son as a tiny hatchling again. Swaddled in bandages, in constant pain, and ever so bravely playing in the right, just the same. Chasing his reflection in puddles. Ignoring his wounds, and singing at the top of his lungs. Valyrym’s throat clenched. A few tears brimmed in his eyes. He let them fall, thankful that the rain would hide them from his son.

But the rain could not hide the hoarseness of his voice. “I still remember it so vividly.” His eyes drifted towards Valar’s scars. “You were so brave. So strong. And I was so proud of you. I could not imagine the pain you must have been in, and yet…” The old dragon sniffled, a few more tears streaking down his pebbly scales. “All you wanted to do, was go splashing in the puddles, and dancing in the rain.”

Valar swallowed hard, looking away. His ears drooped, and his tail hung limp. The younger dragon’s wings trembled at his sides. “I could barely even walk, Father. I sure as hell wasn’t dancing.”

“But you tried, Valar.”

“Yes, I suppose I did.” Valar curled his neck, gazing back at the old scar marring his hind leg. “Until Amaleen came outside, and yelled at you for letting my bandages get wet.”

Valyrym managed a gravelly laugh. “She was always going to yell at me for something anyway, back then. I knew she’d have to put fresh bandages on you, and yet sometimes I could not bring myself to deny you your joy. The Wind and the Sky certainly knew you deserved a little happiness. You’d always loved splashing about in the puddles.”

A smile slowly stretched across Valar’s muzzle. “I still do.”

Valyrym sniffled again, forcing himself to match Valar’s smile. “I’m heartened to hear that. You know, sometimes when I look into the water, and I see my reflection? I still see you standing alongside me. You’re…” He held a paw out, just above the ground. “This big. And…you’re laughing, and singing, and you’re happy just to be dancing in the rain with me.” A sob seized him, wracking him. His wings shook. Valyrym struggled to force words through the growing onslaught of tears. “And for a moment, my life isn’t wasted, anymore. Your life, isn’t half-ruined. Because I never left you. And that moment, it is perfect, Valar. Because in my head, you’re splashing with me, in the rain again.”

Valar surged forward, seizing Valyrym in his forelegs. He hugged him tightly, his own voice breaking. “Damn it, you old bastard! You’re not supposed to do this to yourself, anymore.”

“I know, Valar.” Valyrym returned the hug, wrapping his beloved son up in his wings. Valar’s loving kindness was a warm balm for an old heart, aching in the cold. “But sometimes, these moments just…” He took a shaking breath. “Wash over me. Like the tide. I cannot fight them, I can only let them carry me along. And for so long, for so very long, those moments, those memories? They were all I had to cling to. They all that kept me afloat. Until the moment passed, and you were only a memory again. And I was drowning without you.”

“You’re not drowning, father.” Valar eased back, lowering his muzzle to stare into Valyrym’s eyes. “And I’m not just a memory, anymore. I’m here.” Valar clasped Valyrym’s paw, squeezing it. “I’m with you. So, damn it. Let’s go make you some new memories, that you might finally let the old ones go.”

“Oh, Valar,” Valyrym said, his voice a broken whisper. “I would never let those memories go. But I would ever so much like to make new ones, with you.”

Valar squeezed his father’s paw again. “Come on then.” He stepped back, tugging Valyrym’s leg forward. “The puddles are waiting.”

A smile slowly returned to Valyrym’s muzzle. He lifted his frills halfway in playfully questioning expression. “Splishy splashy?”

“Yes, Father. Splishy, splashy.” He dropped Valyrym’s paw, then turned away. “Playing in the goddamm rain!”

Valar bound away after that, sprinting across the soaked meadow. Water sprayed around his paws, splashing everywhere. Valyrym watched him for a moment, before glancing back at Alia. She smiled at him, and made a shooing gesture, as if to tell him to get on with it already. Valyrym quickly returned his attention to his son. Valar was already halfway across the meadow. As Valyrym watched, he took a running leap, jumping into an especially large puddle. Muddy water went everywhere.

Valar skidded to a stop, then turned to stare at his father. “Well?” His voice echoed through the rain. “I do believe I’ve proclaimed a splishy splashy, Father. Don’t leave me out here playing in the rain by myself!”

“Never, Valar.” Valyrym started after his son, his trot soon breaking into a sprint. “Never!”

Valar took off again just before Valyrym reached him. Together, they bound all around the meadow. They leapt through the rain, and danced like giddy hatchlings. They jumped into every puddle they saw. They laughed and splashed one another, hurled pawfuls of mud against each other’s scales and let the cold rains wash them clean again. Valyrym cackled mad, happy laughter, as father and son played together in the rain.

For a beautiful moment, all was right in Valyrym’s world.