Chapter Text
It was, he thinks, the way that he watched her, day in and day out, toil tirelessly for a home that wasn’t even hers. She felt compelled to do this - to help, to thrive - because of her care for a people that were struggling long before she had even known of the place. As she cleared the land, built barns and coops, raised animals, worked her crop field each season - he felt… something. Exactly what, he didn’t know - he’d been dormant for a long, long time, and his perception of humans had been left in poor taste. She was... Exceptional. Hardworking to a fault, as he’d tried to tell her - you don’t have to do everything all in one day - but yet, she tried.
And, she - talked. To him, as if he was a human. As if she... cared for him. Sometimes, in the rare evenings, air heavy and thick with heat, moisture clinging to her skin with every movement - she would lean against the cold of his marble base, sometimes dozing, other times talking about anything and everything she could. It was… mundane. She talked about the far away lands she’d visited, the town gossip, how different plants were seen cropping up in different places within the fields, her family - or what little was left of it… She kept him updated on the goings-ons of his land, the small ins and outs he wouldn’t typically concern himself with. It was… nice, to be included. Usually he had very little input, but still, she talked to him everyday. Leaving the farm, she’d stop to have a quick chat, complete with a “see you later, Caldarus!”. It… unsettled him, in the best of ways. He liked her, he decided; yes, out of all the humans he’d met, he quite liked her a lot.
He does, sometime, wonder if he’d be ever out of this statue again - to be able to wander amongst the forest, feel the cool rock of the mines, swipe his hand gently into the ocean. Maybe… to feel - cool sweat on hot summer skin-
He does not think of it.
There is a memory that he hates to recall; it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth when he remembers the sting of uselessness that permeated his stone body. He shares his powers with her, as best as he can - but still, he cannot pick her up when she collapses; cannot carry her into the safety of her home; cannot protect her from the dangers lurking in the mines that she’s so determined to explore (for him, he knows). It had gotten very late, and very dark out, and he had already been worried for her - when she comes stumbling into the entrance to the farm, looking bruised and bloodied and worse for wear - and she sends a faint wave over to him, taking a shaky step forward, before completely collapsing mere feet away from him, before she even reached her house. He remembers the worry he felt, the thrash against the binds that hold him in this stature - the need to get out and go to her - but all he could do was merely watch the rise and fall of her chest. She got up some hours later, as the sun rose and the birds were chirping, and off she ran to her barn without so much as a word.
/
He never took it for granted, now; the ability to touch. When he broke free from his cursed form, his farmer having broke the seals - and he refusing to be helpless this time - all he wanted to do was reach out to her. To glide his clawed hand gently through her sacred hair, take in its earthy scent, to feel the delicate curve of her neck -
He wondered if his sharp teeth would puncture her skin with a simple graze - how fragile she was, yet still, so sturdy, so tough - if her calloused hands would rake over his horns -
He had invited her back to his temple, because - he needed her presence there. It was selfish, greedy. He thought it funny, almost, how he was the god, and yet he practically worshipped the ground she worked on. She had done so much for him - and he needed to fill his quarters with her grace, lest he forget her with their sudden distance. He’d make the trek, of course, but - he would miss sunsets in the evenings and stargazing on restful nights. He’d miss the morning chit chats and the quick “goodnight’s” as she went to bed for the evening. He’d miss warm nights where she’d lean against him to get some kind of relief from the heat of day, or the cold nights where she’d bring out a blanket and a hot cup of tea - and she’d lean on him, all the same, despite the extra chill that would surely seep into her skin.
He couldn’t… help it, really. The first time he touched her, he couldn’t stop. He wasn’t thinking, it was just - he had his corporeal form again finally, and he’d spent a lot of time - touching other things. Leaves on trees, petals on flowers, scales on fish - he just reached out to brush some dirt off of her face - and watched as his claws cupped her cheek, grazing so, so tenderly over her skin. A red line of irritation appeared as his thumb swiped over her cheek, landing on her cheekbone, as the rest of his hand held her chin in his hands. His eyebrows raised slightly in amusement - maybe fondness, even - as her cheeks bloomed beet red, a familiar hue from exhausted summer days. He moved her head around slightly, looking at her face from different angles, inching slightly closer to see how her eyelashes touched her bottom lids as she glanced down at his hand, blush still darkening.
“I believe,” he rattled out, desperately trying to soothe over his mishap, “that the statue by my temple and the statue at your farm are connected. Should you need me…” He trailed off then, pulling his hands from her face, stroking a lock of her hair as his hand hung in the air, “just touch the gemstone and wish where to be. Go on, try it.” He said, stepping back and motioning over to the statue by his temple. She said - nothing, which was… odd, for her - and her eyes met his for just a moment before they shot back to the floor. She shimmied past him, moving stiffly over to the statue, before touching the gemstone. She thought, and thought, but she was stuck here. She turned around, eyes wide, blush apparent still, and Caldarus let a small smile slip.
“I don’t think it’s really working, Caldarus.” She said, one hand tugging at a strand of hair in - nervousness?
“Mmm… Perhaps it needs to be activated from both statues before the connection is fully formed. Well, when you go back to your farm, just touch the gemstone. I will be here. We can test it again after.”
“Oh, so... We’ll be able to teleport to each other?” She asked, tugging at her hair. Caldarus nodded, entranced by the notion.
“It’ll be as though we were never parted. I will likely be unable to use it for long, however; it requires essence to use, and as you know, I am in rather short supply. Now, hurry along, before it gets dark. I hope to see you soon.” He nodded at her then, motioning towards the door. She nodded and shuffled outside, bidding him a “see you tomorrow”. The ‘tomorrow’ startled him in the best of ways - surely she wouldn’t still visit every day. He knew how busy she was, and he had to admit, he’d feel a little guilty about her feeling obligated to visit him, despite how welcome she was into his temple. But… if he got to touch her like that, again -
The glow of the statue interrupted his thoughts; she had gotten home fast, or he had gotten lost in his thoughts - regardless, she was touching her statue; he walked over and focused on his, and he could feel the connection instantly. Before he knew it, a slight whir sounded, and she was standing before him, again. Caldarus reacted quickly, lunging to catch her before she fell, wobbly on her feet from what was likely her first experience teleporting. He’d be damned if he ever let her hit the ground again.
“Alright there?” He asked, voice low. Her eyes were scrunched close, and she shook her head lightly.
“I didn’t like that feeling very much,” She started, straightening up, “but I suppose I’ll get used to it.” She said, opening her eyes and looking at him. His arms were still bracketed against her sides, and as she stood straight, she placed her hands lightly on his arms, a way of comfort. He frowned at her.
“Well, don’t feel like you need to use the teleportation on my behalf - but if you are in danger, I am but a few essence away. I… enjoy your presence, and visits would be appreciated while I recover, but I understand that you are a busy woman, Laya - I have seen it over the seasons. I do not wish to be another burden to you.” With this, Caldarus moved his arms from around her to her arms, trailing his clawed fingers over her covered arms before letting go entirely. She then grabbed his hands as he let go, squeezing them in hers with a smile before letting them fall.
“You could never be a burden to me, Cal. You were my first friend here, and the reason why I became so comfortable here so quickly. I’d be honored to visit you - teleporting or not. You’re my best friend.” She smiled then, and Caldarus’ heart did something very weird, then - he could swear he felt it flip in his chest. He could only ever recall, with his dim memory, feeling the same when he first learned to fly.
“I think you need more friends, my dear.” He said in jest, and she laughed lightly, turning back towards the dragon statuette.
“Goodnight, Caldarus. See you tomorrow.” She said quietly, and he nodded his head at her, bewitched by her very being.
/
Not only did she visit often - it was rare that she missed a day, even with her goings-ons, she stopped by his temple in the mornings or evenings for a chat - but she would bring him gifts. He was touched - he always told her that she’s already done too much - but she would wave it off with a smile and a laugh, and the next day she’d be back, smiling as bright as ever. She’d bring little pieces of town culture to him; different foods that various townsfolk would make, crafts from the smithy and carpenter shops, textiles from the markets, things she’d foraged from the outer reaches of Mistria. But today - today, she brought music.
He didn’t mean to, really.
He was enraptured by the device she brought; a little record player that she set up on his desk, and various records with all different kinds of music; some recorded in Mistria itself, some from bands that she’s enjoyed from the far places she’s been. And she shared it - with him.
He really didn’t mean to. But once the record was switched and the melody dropped to a slow, low ballad, he had to; he reached out a hand, and, blushing, she took it. They had done a handful of intimate things together; watched the stars fall as she sat on the marble between his feet, picked out clothes together for upcoming events, thought of names for her farm animals together. But this - being humanoid, being together, skin and scale touching - was something entirely new, entirely different. Caldarus felt the tell-tale flipping of his heart and the rushing of his dragon’s blood from his horns to his tail and he tried - he tried to stop it. But she took his hand, not hesitant, not fearful of his claws, blushing and smiling and giggling all the same - and he was gone. He was a man well taken. He pulled her to his chest, clothed in his layers of robes - one of which she’d bought for him - and his other arm snaked around her waist. She squeaked at the pull and her hands landed on his chest, moving his long hair over his shoulder, trailing her fingers over the cloth the entire way. She looked at him through her eyelashes, blush and shy smile on her face, as she carded her fingers through his hair after moving it. He sucked in a breath and closed his eyes, steadying himself. Slowly, slowly, he began to sway her to the music.
“Didn’t realize dragons were dancers.” She teased lightly, and he opened an eye and looked down at her, a ghost of a smile on his face.
“Hmm,” he started, voice gravelly, “I do not quite remember, truth tells. We did dance among the skies; we had a practiced, instinctual dance we performed, though I do not remember why. I suppose… as a human, this suffices.” He replied, smiling now. She grinned up at him.
“I don’t know about being in the skies, but… this plenty suffices for me.” She replied, her hands dragging back across his shoulders and squarely onto his chest once more, leaning into him. If he hugged her to him a little tighter, well… that’s for the rugs to keep secret.