MeiaNoite

Oszkar heaved, curling upon himself as he struggled to keep himself quiet and not wake the dragon sleeping next to him. Shadowbinder, why? It hurts. It hurts so much.

Why did this happen, today of all days? Why couldn't it let him rest? The poison had just started to feel like background buzz again, merely white noise he could block. But everytime he starts to get comfortable, it's like it senses his building indifference and cracks down once again, redoubling his pain and starting the process all over again.

His claws scratch up the floor where he curls up his toes, as if that would help. It's a constant, unrelenting pressure, pulsing as if millions of green-banded broodsacs lived under his skin and were trying to squirm their way up to his eyes. He wants his sister. He wants a hug. Oszkar heaves a big breath once again, feeling like he is losing air faster than he can gain it. Please- he's tired.

A black, enormous paw lightly touches Oszkar's shoulder. It's almost as big as his own head. Oszkar lets himself cry, leaning all of his weight against that single paw, seeking the comfort it provides. A low, guttural hum begins, singing what Oszkar thinks might be a lullaby, but he is too out of it to listen and confirm.

Instead, he lets the vibration of it pass through him, crying in earnest now and feeling nothing but relief as the gargantuan dragon curls himself around Oszkar, one gigantic wing covering him and blocking out the rest of the world. The paw on his shoulder softly moves up and down, a soothing touch.

The pain doesn't stop. It doesn't fade. But Oszkar trembles against the guardian, and relaxes as much as possible. He does so much for Oszkar, how could he ever repay him? Oszkar loves him. He truly does.

Eventually, in what feels like hours, Oszkar manages to fall into an in-between state of sleep and awake, snatching one big claw and holding the paw attached to it against his chest. Like this, he falls fully asleep, much more restful than he ever would have gotten by himself.

---

They first met as teenagers on the cusp of adulthood. By then, Oszkar had long been used to the pain, or as used as you can ever be. It was a time where he pretended the bad days didn't exist until he couldn't anymore.

But it was a good day, the day he saw an enormous dragon crouching by a cluster of bloody snapdragons and looking as if they had insulted his entire family. Stepping forward and looking closer, Oskar could see that quite a few of them had big teeth marks in it. Not being able to help himself, Oszkar started laughing.

Startled, the guardian had turned to look at Oszkar, looking confused. “Why are you laughing?” He sounded so bemused! The poor thing! It just sent Oszkar into bigger fits of laughter.

“You idiot! You're- pfft hahaha, you're not supposed to eat those!” There's a reason they're saved as winter rations, after all! Oszkar can't believe this dragon just decided to take a big bite out of them just like that!

“Why shouldn't I eat them?” The guardian asked, tilting his head. It was at that moment that Oszkar had decided to take a better look at the other dragon, and his breath caught in his throat, laughter dying down.

Unholy Shadowbinder. He's gorgeous. Bright, purple arcane eyes stared at Oszkar, framed by dark, shining reinforced scales. Grey, curving horns, looked right at home next to the giraffe-like pattern covering the more fragile scales. A mulberry, still growing beard, matched the color of enormous wings, the markings of which rather reminded Oszkar of a spinner. Gods. Who gave this guy permission to look like that?

“You can eat me right up…” Oszkar replied, catching up a second too late with what he just said. The guardian looked even more confused, and Oszkar interrupted him before he could even open his mouth. “I mean! Uh, You see…”

Oszkar clears his throat, puffing out his chest as he uses a wing to point back to the flowers. Gods, he feels warm. He hopes he isn't blushing. “Alright, see how the earth where they're growing in looks dry and devoid of nutrients?”

Oszkar is aware that most can't tell what the earth is like just from a glance, but this should be something anyone with seeing eyes can notice. And if not, maybe acting like it's obvious will make the guardian impressed with his knowledge. “Only sturdy plants like this species of grass and the trees around can survive with this poor quality ground!” He plucks one of the intact flowers from the ground, holding it up and balancing quite easily on just one foot. “Those beauties over here are a strong bunch, they can ever survive harsh winters. But!”

Oszkar launches into a bit of a speech about soil quality, durability, surrounding magic, and how it all relates to taste and also, really, you shouldn't be eating random things off the ground if you don't know what they are, how irresponsible!

“In conclusion, you should have cooked them before eating.” He grins at the guardian, who does actually look impressed. Score! 9 out of 10 times, people tend to zone out and stop listening. His sister, of course, was the only one who ever actually paid attention the whole way through, bless her.

“I see…” The guardian nods, looking deep in thought for a second. Then, he nods to himself again, seeming to have decided on something. “My name is Mourner, what is yours?”

Oszkar can't help but snicker. “Mourner? Like, as in, Mourning? Were your parents unhappy when you hatched or something? Ah ****, sorry-” He realized last second that insulting the name of this gorgeous man probably wasn't the way to get closer to him.

But Mourner simply looks amused. “I would hope not. No, mom is something of a jokester and was hoping I would end up as easily excited as her. It would make a funny contrast, wouldn't it?”

Thinking about it, it would be incredibly funny if Mourner turned out to be a happy go lucky man. Oszkar nods along, “I see where she was coming from.”

“And?” Mourner asks. Oszkar blanks out. And what? The guardian huffs out a laugh and leans down, looking Oszkar right in the face. He's even more handsome up close. “What about your name?”

It takes Oszkar a few embarrassingly long seconds before he can process Mourner's words. And then… “Oh!” His face heats up something fierce. “Right, ah,” Oszkar clears his throat. “My name.”

He needs to salvage this! What a disaster! Determined to look better, Oszkar draws himself to his full height and smirks, doing his best to hide the wince as he pulls already sore muscles. “The one and only Oszkar, at your service.” Oszkar sketches out an exaggerated bow and regrets it almost immediately.

Mistake, mistake, mistake! He can't have a straight posture and he can't bend his back?! Ugh, Oszkar should have already known. How does he keep forgetting his own limits?

“Oszkar…” The guardian says, looking as if he can taste the name. It brings the banescale out of his own head, sending shivers down his spine. Wow. Can Mourner say nothing else but Oszkar's name for the rest of their lives? “What a fitting name…”

After this meeting, Oszkar isn't quite sure how, but Mourner seemed more than happy to stick around. Oszkar would have thought his bumbles would have turned any potential friend off, but Mourner probably got dropped as a hatchling or something. Well, he can't complain!

After all, while Oszkar did get over his crush eventually, the dragon still ended up being one of the most important people in Oszkar's life.