Chapter Text
Scott smiled, watching his friends celebrate across the pub. He took a long swig of the luminous wine, enjoying this time how it felt going down. It seemed that, the more he had, the easier it became to drink. And, rest assured, Scott had a lot to drink in the last few days. He loved that they were all able to laugh and drink and play together. He just…wished he could be there with them. But the chill hadn’t stopped, even after Pyro had gotten the innocent verdict. At least the snowflakes had ceased.
He felt a twinge in his chest watching them. He wasn’t mad or disappointed in any of them, never, but he just…wanted to be normal. Pyro stood on one of the tables, dancing precariously close to the edge. He still couldn’t see well, and it gave Scott a start every time he stumbled. That man was dead set on raising Scott’s blood pressure.
Legs came up after a while, holding two bottles of sweetberry wine. He sat down across from Scott and passed one of the bottles over the table. “Noticed ya weren’t joinin’ in,” he said lightly. He was speaking less articulate now, which told Scott he was already a few drinks in himself.
Scott shrugged. “Still a little cold,” he muttered, looking down the bottleneck at the liquid swirling around the glass.
“Scott.”
Scott sighed roughly. “I know, I know. And…what you’ve said to me…it’s helpful. Really. It’s just hard for me to…let go of.” He glanced up, watching Legs’ trembling hand lift the bottle to his lips. “You all still freeze, and not everyone has the availability for leather boots.”
Legs propped his feet up on the table, showing off said shoes. “Jus’ so that you know I’m not getting hurt.”
A smile tugged at Scott’s lips, and an uproar of laughter came from the dance floor, making both mages’ heads turn. Elaina was doing the worm, with everyone standing around, cheering her on. Legs sat up straight again, grinning. The smile dropped from Scott’s face and his gaze turned back down to the alcohol. He felt the same familiar ache in his chest, the longing for connection that he often got when he was alone in a group of people. He hadn’t felt like that since he lived in Tegrith. It was harder for him to connect with other people his age—that was always Pyro’s beat. Sure, they liked Scott well enough, being the mayor’s kid and being the guy who took on all the hard work, but he felt it when they would smile at him blankly after he tried to make jokes or relate to them.
He would’ve loved to ask Legs to stay with him, but that wouldn’t be fair. He couldn’t be selfish. “Uh—you don’t have to…stay here and hang back with me. You can go be with everyone.”
Legs looked at him. He tipped the end of his bottle to the group. “I was with them, I’m gonna be with you right now, and I’ll be back with them whenever the situation calls for it.”
“Okay. Just don’t…feel like you have to, you know, force yourself to stick by. I’ll be fine.”
“You say that a lot.”
“Hm?”
Legs set down the bottle after taking a sip. “I’m jus’ saying, people here, they say they’re fine all the time. I think I hear it the most from you. And Graecie, Amber…But you, you say it a lot. Something up with that?”
Scott hummed. “No, not really, it’s just—”
“You don’t want other people worrying about you,” Legs guessed. “I’ve been there. But really, Scott, when people care about you, like we all do, it’s gonna be hard to not worry when you’re acting so different from your usual self. You jus’ look so sad all the time recently.”
“W-Well I’m not sad now, I’m relieved!” Scott protested. “My best friend was found innocent and is home safe, the Duke is out of the picture, and everyone’s…having a great time.”
“But you wanna have a great time, too.” Legs took his feet off the table and leaned forward, clutching his drink in two hands. “Because you feel lonely right now, unable to be near your friends. And the…least leather-expensive way to not hurt anyone while also being close means you can’t move.”
Scott looked up at Legs. “I don’t think anyone’s really gotten that before,” he said softly.
“Like I said; I sorta know what you’re going through.” The iron mage smiled, extending a hand to pat Scott’s glove. “Now. Let’s get dipped?” He raised the bottle, giving Scott a hopeful look.
Scott’s eyes flitted between his own drink and Legs, then to everyone else on the pub floor. He sighed, then tipped his head back to down as much as he could in one go. Legs whooped, throwing his hands in the air.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Scott was anything if not a reckless man. Sure, it took quite a bit for him to actually get drunk, but he was drunk. He leaned against the bar counter, trying not to freeze Zam while they all talked to Judge Septimus, who stumbled his way into the pub when they were testing out the molotovs. The pub swirled around him, bright colors from the luminous wine mixing with the general spinning that came with drinking. It made his head reel. No, it made him feel nauseous.
Scott ran out the back exit to the yard, barely making it to the fence before folding over the top rail and spilling his guts into the grass below. Sore hands gripped the wood. He coughed up some more, breathing heavy and ragged.
A hand braced his back while another pushed his bangs up his head, clearing the way in case Scott needed to empty his stomach again.
“Aye, Scott, there you go. Cough it up, man.” Pyro’s voice was a grounding force through the slight panic that had started to cave Scott’s chest in. He remembered that Pyro couldn’t get drunk like he did before his magic, and was likely only a little tipsy. “God, did you even have anything to eat since this morning? Look, I know you’re a big guy, but even big guys have limits.”
“Pyro,” Scott gagged, simultaneously embarrassed by the lecture and appreciative for his friend’s help.
The fire mage laughed softly. “I know, I know. But seriously, I think you should quit it for tonight. Don’t let Legundo convince you into any more shots, ‘kay? I’ll have a word with him about slowing down, too. He’s had a lot himself tonight.”
Scott nodded.
“You just want some fresh air or do you think you’re good to go back in?”
He grunted, slumping his shoulders. He nodded again.
“Not really an answer, bud. A or B?”
“B.”
“Okay.”
Pyro helped Scott as well as he could, trying to let Scott lean on him just as his friend did for him mere days ago. But he’d be a filthy liar if he said it was easy. Everything still hurt from Gandus, and he still wasn’t seeing great. But Scott at least had the mind to try and keep himself upright, so it wasn’t too much strain.
Scott was deposited in a chair near the bar, far enough away from everyone for Scott’s comfort. Soon enough, Legs was across from him, forehead pressed to the tabletop.
“Dipped,” he cheered weakly, raising a fist.
“Dipped,” Scott echoed.
Shelby scooted by with a platter of two bowls of mushroom rice, placing it between the two hammered men. “Pyro told me to bring these to you two,” she chirped. She eyed Scott carefully, gaze scrutinizing his flushed face. “Especially you, Scott. It’ll make you feel better, promise.”
She hopped away again as Scott and Legs sat up straighter. Scott groaned as he stretched his arms behind his head. He looked into the bowl, stirring around its contents with the fork he was provided. “I don’t want to eat this,” he admitted. His mouth still tasted like ass, and his insides felt like mush.
Legs sighed. “I know, but we probably should. I don’t wanna have a…another stern talking to from Pyro.”
“You’re right,” Scott sighed. “And Shelby’s right. It’ll be good for me. The nerves over the trial kinda made me…skip every meal after breakfast. I never realized how hungry I was until now, I guess.”
Legs hummed over the warm rice. “It’s really good, as well. I’ve missed the way Pyro makes it.”
“You’ve got your boots on? Not freezing?” In response, Legs tapped his knee with his shoe. “Okay.”
Once he actually ate some real food, Scott found he didn’t feel as sick. And soon, he was back behind the counter, staying out of people’s way and watching fondly as Elaina showed Judge Septimus her dance moves. He stopped Pyro from cleaning up after them, mostly by just using his body to block him from even reaching the bottles.
“Leave it,” Scott demanded, pushing his friend away from the counter.
Pyro laughed. “Let me clean up my alcohol.”
“Leave it!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Scott ended up taking Pyro home that night. The man was tired, understandably so, and just wanted to get back to Kindling. When they hugged, Scott accidentally leaned too far into Pyro, causing him to stumble. But there were no complaints. They were just happy to be together again.
“Pyro, I’m so happy you’re back and not executed,” Scott mumbled into Pyro’s shoulder. He felt a familiar stinging in the corners of his eyes, but he pushed the tears down as best he could.
“I’m happy to be back too, Scott,” Pyro said, recognizing the warble in his friend’s voice and rubbing his back comfortingly.
Pyro pushed Scott back, holding him at arms’ length by his shoulders. “Right now. You best go home. Go, git.”
Scott grinned. “Okay, okay, I’m leaving. I know when I’m not wanted. Goodnight, Pyro. I’ll come by to check on you soon.”
“Goodnight, Scott.”
As Scott made his way down the road to the docks, he couldn’t help but turn around to look at the brewery. He wiped away the tears welling in his eyes, threatening to spill over.
“I got my best friend back,” he whispered to the breeze. He turned again and continued down the path, taking the boat back to Thawdale.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Scott woke up at noon the next day, lying face-up in a covered wagon parked outside Thawdale. He groaned sitting up, head throbbing with the post-celebration hangover of a few too many bottles of alcohol.
“God,” Scott whined, leaning forward and cradling his head in his hands. Hands which were still in pain. He tore his gloves from his hands, wincing at the damage, The skin on his knuckles was raw and peeling, bruised. Tiny pricks of blood started to rise up again after being exposed to the air. He turned one of his gloves inside out and frowned at the smears of blood.
“Are you finally awake?” A voice asked from the dock.
Scott’s head snapped to the source. Osteon was standing on the dock, petting one of the heads of their dragon. “How long have you been here?”
Osteon looked at him. “Well, I came last night, found you passed out in the boat, got the boys here to help you into the caravan, and I came back at dawn to wait for you to wake up.”
“Wait for me to…?”
“How many drinks have you had?” Osteon raised an eyebrow at Scott. “Scratch that—what do you remember of last night?”
“Well, to answer your new question, I remember quite a bit, thank you. And to answer your first: enough for you to give me a disappointed glare.”
In response, Osteon gave Scott a disappointed glare.
“Do you need water, Scott? You look…hm, unlike yourself.”
“Just a bit hungover. But, yeah, water would be great, thank you.”
“Where would I be able to find some?” Osteon asked, looking toward Thawdale.
“There may be some in my house,” Scott replied, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“And that one is…”
Scott sighed. “Don’t worry about it.” He hopped off the wagon, knees almost buckling as his boots hit the dirt.
Osteon watched him. “Apologies, I would help you if I could,” she said.
“No worries. Wanna come to see Thawdale? I’ve made…some progress.”
“Mm…why not.” Osteon gave Theodore one last pet along the nose. A low grumble emitted from the head’s throat. He turned to Scott, gesturing down the path. “Lead the way.”
Scott started down the trail, boots shuffling in the dust. Too much effort to pick up his feet. He didn’t think about the patches of blood, the drops scattered along the trees and the grass, until Osteon mentioned it.
“When I saw the state of your hands the other day, I didn’t realize this was what you were doing to them.” They stopped in front of one of the trunks, inspecting it closely. Their eyes widened ever so slightly as it dropped to where Scott had been punching the most. “You…tore the bark off the wood. Just by punching it?”
Scott felt shame wash over him, hot in his head. “Er, yeah. It was…the closest available thing.”
“Do your hands hurt?”
Scott looked away. Maybe he could worm his way out of this. “Are you gonna lecture me if I say yes?”
Surprisingly, a laugh bubbled out of Osteon. “No, no. We’re not in the academy, I’ll spare you this time. But Scott,” her voice took on a warning tone. “It isn’t good for you. I know you know that. I recommend you stop abusing your hands before they’re unusable.”
Scott ran his fingers over the bark. The wood underneath was stained with red and brown streaks. “I don’t do it often. Honestly…I was just mad.”
“You’re strong,” Osteon said like praise, looking back at the torn bark and splotches of blood and skin. “You aren’t invincible.”
They continued down the trail to Thawdale, leaving Scott to his thoughts for a second. He followed behind her soon after, picking up some of the bits of bark he found along the way. Osteon stood in the middle of the town, looking around at the progress Scott had made. “It looks good,” he said, facing the ice mage as he approached. “You’re doing well, Scott.” They tilted their head seeing Scott stand away. “You…”
“Still cold.”
“Right.” Osteon’s eyes ran up and down Scott, looking like she wanted to say something. “That’s…unfortunate, I’m sorry.”
“Me too…” Scott walked past them, climbing the steps to his house. It was still mostly empty inside, but he was able to find a water bottle in one of his chests. Osteon entered after, looking around hesitantly like they weren’t sure they were allowed inside.
“I don’t understand why it persists. I assumed it was a factor of your stress, regarding Pyro.”
Scott opened the water bottle and chugged it. The liquid was cold after being in his hand, and an instant relief in his throat and head. He sighed, tossing the empty bottle back in the chest. “I thought it was that too,” he agreed. “I thought everything would go back to normal when Pyro was out. But it’s—I’m still like this. I’m…I’m frustrated, Osteon.” Scott felt his voice crack, and he tried to hold it in. “I—Frustrated and so, so tired…” Something warm grazed his cheek, and he wiped away the tear before Osteon could see. But they just kept coming. Embarrassment was the only thing heating him up.
“Oh…” Osteon sounded helpless. She wasn’t sure what to do in this situation. It wasn’t the first time another dragon rider had broken down in front of him, but it felt different seeing it happen to Scott. They could understand on a level, however. The job had a lot of stress to provide for its soldiers, and it was hard to not crumble under the pressure. “Oh…no.”
“Sorry,” Scott mumbled. He sniffed. “I’m sorry, I-I don’t mean to—”
“Oh, you don’t need to apologize,” Osteon said quickly. “Do you…Would you like me to step out? Give you space?”
Scott shook his head out, clearing away the voices in his head. “No, I’m good. I—I’m okay. Don’t worry about me. Sorry.”
“Uhmm…” the knight hummed, looking around the room for a distraction from the conversation. “Your wrists, I noticed they weren’t, uhm, good? The other day. They wouldn’t be broken, correct?”
“No,” Scott answered immediately, without thinking. “I don’t know. I think they’re just sprained.”
“Still, it’s good to give them a break so they can heal properly. I don’t think you should go to the rift in the meantime, nor do much in the way of physical combat or hard labor. Maybe you can get one of your…fellow dragon riders to help you in the fields of your town. I’m sure many would be willing to—”
“I can’t do that. I can’t ask them to do that. It isn’t fair. This is my problem; they don’t even know about the whole punching thing. I don’t know if I really want them to find out.”
“That is…a troubling way of looking at it, but I’ll respect your wishes.” Osteon shivered, causing Scott to back away.
“Sorry.” Scott sighed. “I just wish this problem would sort itself out,” he grumbled. “It doesn’t feel good at all, having to stay away from my friends.” He glanced up at Osteon, realizing what he just said. How could he stand there and complain, when at least his friends were all still alive? Selfish, the voice hissed. “I’m sorry—”
“Scott, you needn’t apologize. What happened in the past…it’s my burden to bear. I can’t bring them back, no matter how I wish I could.”
“We see you as a friend, you know,” Scott pointed out. “Me, and Pyro, our class may look up to you as the cool, older dragon rider, and as our head of security, but past all of that, we see you as a friend.”
Something like a smile ghosted Osteon’s face for less than a second before it was replaced with casual annoyance. “I just wished some of you saw me as enough of an authority figure to actually work on your villages.” She looked at Scott, a sarcastic glint in their dark eyes. It shocked a laugh out of Scott.
“Michela is grateful for the cover, by the way. She’s just a chronic procrastinator.”
“I know,” Osteon groaned. “No matter what I do, she doesn’t want to work.”
“She’ll get it done, eventually. There’s just—no offense—bigger things going on right now.”
Osteon nodded. “I understand. But my higher-ups make some noise whenever I’m unable to get you students to do your tasks. I rest easier knowing she’s at least going to build a nest for Princess.”
An idea formed in Scott’s head. An evil prank. He smiled at Osteon. “Oh, is that what she told you?”
Osteon’s expression was deadpan, but their voice carried a pleading exhaustion. “Don’t do this to me.”
“Okay, okay, I won’t. I actually haven’t asked her about building a nest yet. I’m sure she will, though.”
“I don’t doubt her abilities, though I sometimes doubt her motivation to show me her abilities. I feel she may be intimidated by me. Which is good, I suppose, in some situations. Even…funny, I’ll say. I like to appear behind her as she’s actively talking about not doing what I asked.”
The two settled into silence, but it wasn’t anything uncomfortable. Osteon looked out the window. “If you refuse to ask your classmates, would you allow me to help in your farm?”
Scott shook his head. “You don’t have to do that, Osteon. Honestly, I’ll be fine on my own.” He looked around in his chest for more water, but couldn’t find anything. He’d have to go to the well later; his head was still pounding.
“And how far are you willing to go before you seek medical attention?” Osteon challenged.
Scott didn’t like this line of questioning. Hell, he wasn’t used to people asking him questions like that. And he was too focused on soothing his headache to worry about his words. “What does it matter?” snapped from his mouth before he could stop it. Scott winced and looked at Osteon.
The older dragon rider watched him coolly, but it was always impossible for Scott to tell if that expression was angry or not. “I’ll give you a second, let you get your thoughts in line, but I request that you fix your tone when I ask you questions regarding your wellbeing.”
“Yeah…Sorry I snapped.”
“There’s a lot in your head, I understand.”
“No, you’re right, I need to be more careful with my words. That’s on me.”
“So I’ll ask you again. How far are you willing to go?”
Scott took a deep breath, puffing out his chest. He was always so used to being the big, strong wall for people; back home at Tegrith, at the academy…but even at his tallest, Osteon still towered over him. “Till the job is done.”
There was a smile in Osteon’s voice now. “You’re very noble, Scott Boralith.” She swung their backpack off their shoulder and started to dig through it. “I wonder if I have anything in here that may help you…” From the bag, he produced a roll of bandages and some tin of blue gel. “I fear I do not carry anything for hangover…I prefer to do all my drinking at home, by myself or with other staff members.” She placed both items on the windowsill for Scott to pick up. “Never repeat that. The gel goes on before the bandages; it won’t necessarily heal your knuckles, but it may make them feel less on fire. As for the cold…” they looked at Scott, and sighed when they couldn’t come up with a solution. “I can always make more boots for people. Just ask.”
“I wish there were a more permanent solution,” Scott admitted. “Well, I suppose there is, but it’s not one I’d ever consider. Especially not with Aurora.”
Osteon’s eyes widened. “You should not be telling me this,” he said sternly. “You should not even think it, even as a joke.”
Scott backed up, putting his hands up in defeat. “I-I don’t! I promise.”
Osteon let go of the breath she was holding. “Good. That ‘solution’, whatever you call it, is out of the question.”
“Of course,” Scott agreed. He took his backpack off, letting Aurora out on the ground. “How could I ever do that to my girl?”
“I’m going to harvest some of the cabbage you have out there,” Osteon said, gesturing to the field out the window. “Those ones are hard to get out. Give your hands a break. And Scott…” They turned halfway out the door to level him with a promising glare, their eyes narrowed. “Should you find yourself thinking of that solution as a real possibility, I trust that you go to one of your friends. And if you’re that intimidated by it, you know where my office is.”
Scott nodded. “I will. Well, I won’t, because I will never consider that as an option, but I will.”
As Osteon left the house, Scott called out a quick apology.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Over the next few days, Scott got busy in Thawdale, doing his best with his wounds to rebuild, cook, and harvest. He forced his hands still when they started to shake too bad. He would dunk himself in the ocean if he found he was dozing off too much. And of course, he kept his mind fully, one-hundred percent on his tasks. If he didn’t think about anything else, like how he was still freezing people and couldn’t get near his friends without hurting them, then there was zero chance of him having a panic attack. That was the sort of logic that he had been using lately.
Legs came to Thawdale that day to see what Scott had been up to lately. Scott was working in the fields, his usual clothes folded neatly on one of the flagstones. Legs had come prepared with leather boots, and hot meals for the both of them, just in case. They hadn’t had the chance to see each other much since the night at the pub, and Legs wanted to make sure Scott was taking care of himself.
The good news was, Scott was eating.
Other habits left a lot to be desired.
Legs watched Scott run back and forth around the farm for a good five minutes before piping up. “So…how have you been?”
Scott startled, head snapping towards Legs. “I’ve been fine!”
Legs sat down on the stairs leading up to Scott’s house. He unpacked the food he’d brought, setting both containers next to him. “And your hands?”
Scott paused. “Hm?”
“Your…no, Scott, come on. I saw the trees, the bandages on your…it’s easy to put two and two together.” Legs folded his arms across his chest, watching Scott. “And Pyro said there was a giant, bloody crack going up his wall? He said it was something you used to do.”
“Uh…yeah, but those are all…old. They’re from, like, before the trial.”
“But—so you’re okay? Do they still hurt?”
“Osteon got me bandages the other day,” Scott sat down next to Legs, stretching over the stone stairs with a groan. Legs placed one of the containers on top of Scott’s chest, opening his own and starting his lunch. It wasn’t a clear answer to his question, but Legs figured he’d drop it for now.
They ate in a comfortable silence, enjoying each others’ company for the moment. Legs tucked the empty containers back in his bag, and let Gadget out to play with Aurora. They sniffed each other tentatively, before springing into a play-wrestle in the dirt. Scott laid his head back, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “It’s been a long week,” he mumbled.
Legs hummed in agreement. “And it hasn’t even been a week.”
Scott’s eyes snapped open. He sat up straight, gaze boring holes into Legs’ face. “Sorry?”
Legs tilted his head. “Well, I guess it has been a week since we raided the bandit camp, and Lion Island, and Pyro; but we got Jibble back on Monday. It’s only been five days since then. Two since the trial.”
“It’s only been…” Scott’s voice trailed off in disbelief. It’s only been five days since his magic went off the rails. “How?”
Legs sorted. “Time flies when you’re…” he looked back at the ice mage. “God, you look exhausted, Scott. Have you been getting any sleep lately?”
Scott sighed. “It usually becomes dawn by the time I’m getting around to it.”
“So no.”
He grumbled. “I just messed up my schedule a bit, with everything going on. It’ll fix itself soon, I’m sure.”
Gadget nipped at one of Aurora’s feet, earning himself a sharp warning from his rider. In retaliation, Aurora raised a front paw and swatted at the other dragon.
“Play nice, you two,” Scott said slowly.
Legs shook his head, returning to the previous topic of conversation. “A sleep schedule isn’t something that just fixes itself, Scott. You have to fix it, first and foremost by going to bed.”
“But what if something happens while I’m asleep?”
There it is.
“Scott, I’m sorry, but you can’t be prepared for every situation. I know you want to be, but no one can see the future. And you doubly can’t neglect yourself for the sake of maybe needing to protect other people at any given moment. And you triply—trip–triply? You triply can’t expect yourself to be entirely on your game to protect when you’re running on fumes. Believe me, I would know.”
Scott believed him, but he couldn’t let himself take the advice lying down. “Just…if something happens…”
Legs looked down. “Tell you what: How about you go to bed, and if anything happens, I can wake you up?”
“That’ll be boring,” Scott said. “You don’t have to stay here for however long it takes me to wake up again.”
Legs shrugged. “I can keep myself busy. If you needed anything done around here, or…but I’m also not opposed to just…staying nearby for you. You do it for others, why not let someone return the favor for once?”
Scott searched Legs’ face, looking for any indication that this wasn’t something the young man wanted to do. Something dropped onto his lap, and he checked to see Aurora standing on him, pulling at his coat with her teeth. She was revved up by her playdate with Gadget, and wanted to fight everything. “So…you promise, that you’ll wake me up if anything happens?”
“Should anything happen, and I need your help dealing with it, I will wake you, Scott. But don’t run yourself into the ground.”
Scott didn’t always fall asleep with someone else in the room. The only people he’d been able to comfortably fall asleep around were Pyro, Igna, and his parents. Even Shelby and Drift, when they were on their training trip, Scott would go to bed after them and wake up before them. But somehow, whether it be the stress of the last week crashing down on him, or the general exhaustion from sleep deprivation, Scott found himself easily closing his eyes with Legs sitting next to his bed. He felt guilty about Legs sitting on the floor the whole time, something he voiced multiple times only to be told it was fine.
He wasn’t asleep long by any means; two and a half hours at most. But Scott would be a liar if he said even just that little bit of sleep helped. He blinked his eyes open to see Legundo’s resting face, slumped against the bedpost. He stayed the whole time. Something small and unfamiliar lit up inside Scott’s chest, and his hand reluctantly reached out to brush the blue bangs from Legs’ face. Then Legs stirred, and shivered, and Scott drew away again. Right. He had very nearly forgotten about the freezing. But it always reared its ugly head when Scott was feeling good again.
He stood up from his bed, grabbing his coat from its pile on the floor, and draped it over Legs like a blanket. Being such a large garment, even for Scott, it covered the iron mage completely. Scott left both dragons in the room with him, and crept out the door as silently as he could. Soon Legs will wake, and he will go outside to find Scott working again. Soon Legs will sit down on the front steps of Scott’s home and watch him carefully, and when Scott is finally done working, he’ll go into the dumpling shop and make dinner for the both of them. Soon, Legs will leave Thawdale, passing the bloody trees with a wince. He’ll board the caravan, watching the lights of Thawdale shrink and fade in the distance.
But right now Legs is asleep in Scott’s room, with a large coat draped over him. Two baby dragons rest peacefully on his lap, curled up next to each other. At least he’s getting the rest he deserves, Scott thinks, gritting his teeth against the spikes of pain in his fingers as he pulls a carrot out of the ground.