Dragon Wings: The Clean War - Chapter VII
The brief rest they took was probably nowhere near enough, but they had stayed as long as they were comfortable. The sense of encroaching danger and urgency had spurred them back into the sky. We’re nearing the coast, Eirian’s voice came through their link. We can smell the ocean. Grymus feels we may as well take the direct course. The Union won’t expect an enemy to come from behind.
I agree. It would be a waste to try and fly further around.
To their surprise, they quickly came upon the battle taking place in the Channel. The Union ships had apparently retreated closer to the mainland and the Allied ships advanced. As the two navies clashed on the water, the dragon forces were met in a vicious mêlée above them.
Eirian, I think we’ve let our target practice go for too long, don’t you? Jared heard Grymus’ suggestion through their link; he could even feel the other dragon’s amusement.
I do. What did you have in mind? There was a moment of silence as Grymus, apparently, sent an image of what he proposed. Jared wasn’t sure why he couldn’t receive images from his mate, but to date they had never been able. It was not unusual, they had been told. Then Eirian was answering, That should work. Suddenly the two dragons flew upwards, gaining altitude rapidly, before they turned and arrowed back down towards the ocean and fleet of ships sitting there. As they neared they must have been spotted, for puffs of smoke began to appear in the air around them. The dragons, however, were moving too quickly, and were impervious to the small calibre shells being fired upon them anyway. Jared and Steve flattened themselves further, making them as small a target as possible. Only metres above the ships, both dragons opened their massive jaws and sent balls of flame at the two nearest targets. Both hits were catastrophic. Though there was plenty of metal in these ships, there was a lot of wood to burn as well. Eirian and Grymus pulled up in a steep climb once more, though staying below the dragons above, as they headed back to base.
A white midweight dropped down between them, and they immediately recognised Merlin. You bloody did it! That was unmistakeably Bradley coming over the link.
Shouldn’t you be supporting your wing back there? Grymus grumbled.
We have leave to escort you back. Merlin answered. Your message, I assume, is more important than a few more metres of ocean.
We’re honestly surprised to see you back, but we certainly didn’t expect you from this quarter. Though not actually a question, Bradley’s curiosity came through loud and clear.
Long story. Eirian answered. We’ll explain later. For now...it’s all we can do to keep flying. Which was true. Their last efforts had drained them and they were struggling to keep up a steady beat of their wings.
Come on, then. Let’s get you back on safe ground. No sooner had Merlin passed on Bradley’s message than a lightweight dragon dropped down amongst them. Merlin veered to the right, to keep from being raked by reaching talons, and ended up crashing against Grymus, barely escaping getting their wind snarled together. By the time they had righted themselves, they could see that the French dragon’s task had, in fact, been to deposit a soldier onto the back of one of the heavyweights. It had caught hold of Eirian’s tail, right at the base, and held on with sharp claws as Eirian screamed and tried to shake it off. A soldier leaped from the lightweight’s back and speared some kind of three-pronged grappling hook into Eirian’s hide. At once, the lightweight let go and took off as fast as it could fly. It did it no good, as Grymus had now righted himself and caught up in a few strong wing beats. He captured the much smaller dragon in one big talon, crushing the delicate wings, and then cast it away. Unable to fly, the lightweight plummeted to the ocean below.
Meanwhile, Eirian was still twisting wildly, trying to dislodge the metal in his flesh and throw off the enemy on his back. It was clear, however, that the soldier had been trained for this situation. With a victorious grin, he made his way towards Jared, a pistol in one hand and a knife between his teeth. Jared cursed. He had had the same weapons himself, but they had been confiscated when they had been captured. He had nothing with which to defend himself.
They have taken three of our heavyweights with this strategy, Merlin told them. Once they have the rider, the dragon will submit.
Jared’s eyes widened. Eirian, they must not take you. They could force you to use your authority to control every dragon in the corps. You mustn’t submit!
Eirian was silent for a long moment. I have an idea. When I say so, I need you to unclip your harness.
“What?!” Jared was shocked enough to speak out loud.
Trust me?
Jared sighed. You know I do. Okay. Whatever it is, I’m ready.
Eirian shot up in another steep climb. When he was bordering on ‘too high’, he yelled down the link, Now! Jared took a deep breath and unclipped his harness. Only the briefest moment later he was falling through the sky. At some point they had crossed over into Britain and the land seemed to be rushing up to meet him. He panicked and searched for his mate, and realised what the plan had been. Jensen was plummeting not too far from him, as was the French soldier. Eirian’s heavy harness was dropping at an even more rapid rate, and Jared understood why he had been told to unclip and, though Jensen had blood on him, the grappling hook had lost its purchase. Just as quickly as Eirian had taken human form, Jensen reverted to his dragon self, his wings billowing out, catching in the air, and halting his fall. Then, with a defiant cry, he swooped towards Jared, catching him in a cage of carefully curled claws. The French soldier was given no such reprieve.
The three dragons regrouped. While Merlin was unscathed, he was beginning to tire. Grymus was slowing with exhaustion and starting to dip lower in the sky. Eirian was bleeding and depending more on gliding than actual wing beats. They didn’t discuss their condition, merely headed steadily for the airfield. It was possibly the longest flight any of them had ever made, or so it felt. When they made the airfield, Merlin landed with a less than graceful plop and Grymus landed with a thud beside him. Eirian hovered frantically, long enough to release Jared from his cage, and then crashed to the ground; his wings were outspread and limp, his tail laid out long and straight behind him. If they had not been able to see the rise and fall of his breath, they would have thought him dead. Jared, unable to rouse him, bellowed louder than he had known a human was able, “Medic! We need a medic out here!”
***
There was a tiny waiting room in the airfield’s hospital. It seemed even smaller when filled with five anxious men. Jared was pacing back and forth. He had been witness to the unpleasant sight of the medics jabbing a dragon-sized needle into his mate’s exposed chest, injecting him with a serum that forced a dragon back to its human shape. It was much easier to treat a human than a dragon, but watching a dragon shudder and shake and take so long to change was an ugly business. Jared paced to keep himself from storming into the room where they had whisked Jensen.
Bradley and Colin were sitting side by side, Colin’s head rested on Bradley’s shoulder and he was dozing in and out. Bradley was wide awake and watching the others, but his hand stroked through Colin’s hair soothingly. Steve and Chris were also sat side by side, but there was a gulf of a chair’s space between them. Chris was holding himself stiff and upright while Steve threw worried glances at him. He couldn’t fathom why his mate was keeping such a distance between them, but the first time he had reached out for him, Chris had twisted away and made it clear that touching him was not an option.
Suddenly, Jared stopped pacing and looked at the door across the hall like he could see Jensen through it. The door opened and a shaky Jensen smiled at his worried mate. He was wearing scrubs bottoms, and his top half was swathed in bandages, but he was alright. He was alive and his injuries weren’t life threatening. Jared swept across the hall and took Jensen’s face between his palms, leaning down and kissing him like he never needed to come up for air again. As always, Jensen opened under it, and Jared dropped his head to the smaller man’s shoulder and wept. Jensen shushed him and patted at him until Jared was able to stand up and look him in the eye again. Then, tired as he had never been in his life, Jensen whispered, “Let’s go to bed.” Jared just nodded, but Jensen looked over his shoulder and ordered, much louder, “You lot as well. Go to bed.” No one argued with him.
***
“Chris.” Steve watched his mate all but prowl around their tent. He was wired and just waiting for a chance to lash out, but Steve couldn’t fathom why. The restless dragon didn’t answer, so Steve raised his voice and spoke more sternly. “Chris.”
“What?” The word was vicious and furious. Steve didn’t react.
“What’s wrong, Chris? Are you still upset about Jensen?”
Snorting, Chris continued to pace. “No.”
“Okay. Then what?” Steve remained calm, which only needled at Chris more.
The dragon wouldn’t be surprised if that was why he did it. He whirled on his lover, coming close and hissing. “You might have missed it, sitting pretty on my back, but I killed today.”
Ahh. “Chris, this is a war. He attacked us. You did what you had to.” For all that his mate blustered about being rough and tough, inside of that there was a large-hearted man.
Chris shook his head, the auburn strands whipping about with his earnestness. “No. He attacked Colin, and Jensen, but not us. He was just trying to get away when I caught him. I could have let him fly away, or taken him as a prisoner. Instead I...”
“No.” Steve was vehement this time, grabbing Chris’ shoulders and shaking him once, hard. “If you let him go, what’s to stop him from doing this again? They’ve done it before. He was following his orders, and you were protecting your comrades. Chris, this is our world now. Until this bloody war is ended. We just have to do our best and not lose track of ourselves.”
Chris sighed. “I know they need heavyweights. I know that we don’t have a choice. But, Steve, I’m not sure I can do this.” It was harder for Steve to cope with this side of his mate than the loud, brash one. Seeing the pain in those normally bright eyes, hearing the defeat in his voice, tore at Steve’s heart.
He pulled the dragon into his arms and held on tight. He couldn’t make any promises that they would never need to do this again, or that they could run away and be happy, but he could promise one thing, “We’ll be okay, Chris. As long as we stay together, we’ll be okay.”
Chapter VIII: http://lady-krystal-79.livejournal.com/38304.html