Every Thorn Has Its Rose Chapter 3
The meeting in the barn was not nearly as unpleasant as Rose had feared. The other lieutenants, St. Hubbins and Shrimpton, joined the meeting out of curiosity, and the presence of witnesses seemed to tone down the admiral's rage. He kept away from personal affairs and his own righteous indignation at the whole untidy situation, and discussed only those matters that pertained to a rapidly-growing dragon. He spoke of feeding schedules, and adjustments to the harness, and first flights, and the need for the young dragon to meet as many people as possible.
"A feral dragon might kill and eat a human if the chance arose, and with a powerful dragon like this one, we will not take any chances. Your dragon must be completely comfortable in the company of people, even such people as might antagonize her or make her uncomfortable."
"By which you mean yourself?" Spina asked. Her facial expression was unreadable, but Rose thought she saw a twinkle in the reptilian eye.
The admiral felt his temper rising again; he mastered it. "By which I mean anyone whose personality is not a good fit for yours. People who join the military must learn to get along with other people of all kinds, and so it must be with dragons. It won't do for you to lash out at anyone whose manner does not suit you. And I must include lashing out verbally, as well as physically, young dragon."
Rose looked thoughtful. "Then perhaps it might be best if I took Spina with me into the village, so she will grow accustomed to as many different kinds of people as possible."
"Into the village? Out of the question!" the Admiral blustered.
"It sounds like a reasonable suggestion," Spina said mildly. "I confess to being curious. I have never been in a village before. What would I see there?"
The admiral did his best to restrain his impatience. "Madam... I mean Ensign, you show no fear of dragons, and that is to your credit. But surely you must know that most people recoil in terror from the presence of a dragon."
"To say nothing of the horses!" Shrimpton threw in.
St. Hubbins added, "It would become a race to see who could vacate the village faster – the two-legged citizens or the four-legged kind."
"No, Ensign, taking your creature with you into the village would be a horrifically bad idea," the admiral finished.
"Very well," she sighed. She'd already known what kind of reaction her dragon friend would cause in the town, and she had actually been hoping for the chance to make it happen. That provincial little village badly needed a good shaking-up.
"About that restriction on lashing out verbally," the dragon protested. "I thought British subjects had a certain freedom of speech."
"That doesn't apply once we're in the military, I'm afraid," Rose corrected her. "And, due to circumstances beyond our control, that is where we are. Both of us."
"I am heartily glad that one of you, at least, understands that," Admiral White nodded. "Ensign Smalls, your own situation will call for some unusual accommodations, but the greater share of the accommodating must fall on your own shoulders. If you are accustomed to being treated like a lady, you can expect no such treatment as a junior officer in the Aviator Corps."
"I see," she nodded. "So if I cannot take Spina with me into the village, and if I am to be treated no differently than any other ensign in the Corps, does that mean I shall be quartered in the barracks from now on?" She had no desire whatsoever for such accommodations; she had been living by herself for years, and had no desire for a roommate, never mind four male roommates. But she sensed the inevitability of it, and rather than allowing herself to be forced into it, she took the initiative, just to see how uncomfortable she could make the men.
All four lieutenants leaped to their feet in horror. "Four men sharing quarters with a lady?" Tufnel burst out. "It will be counted a scandal by all who hear of it!"
"There is no womanly privacy to be found in a men's barracks!" Shrimpton protested. "It would be miserably awkward for all concerned!"
"Tufnel will have to stop singing his dirty rugger songs in the shower," St. Hubbins added impishly.
"Sir, you cannot mean for me to share sleeping arrangements with my own sister?" Smalls nearly begged.
"Gentlemen, please, there is no cause for alarm," Rose said soothingly. "You need not upend the world on my account. I will require only my own bed and locker, and a small partition in a corner where I may change my clothing; nothing more."
"But..." Tufnel didn't want to be too indelicate. "But suppose some blackguard comes in the night, and..."
"I have had some exposure to blackguards in the past," Rose said grimly. "I recognize them easily as they approach, and the rest of the world may recognize them by their bow-legged walk as they depart."
"And if she can't handle such a one, then I assure you, I can!" her brother added heatedly.
"No, you cannot," Spina cut in, "because any blackguard who threatens my captain will answer to me before anyone else!"
"It appears that my virtue is in good hands," Rose offered. "Perhaps more single ladies should join the Corps, for their own protection." St. Hubbins smiled at the irony; the other men shuddered at the thought.
"I will leave the specific arrangements to you who will share the barracks," the Admiral decided. "I will intervene only if you cannot reach a modus vivendi among yourselves. I shall visit this place every week or two, to keep an eye on the dragon's growth. Lt. Tufnel, Ensign Smalls, I shall expect daily reports from each of you on Spina's progress. Will there be anything else?"
"Yes, sir," Rose said hesitantly. "I need to go into the village for a few hours. I need to collect my goods, and to dispose of such things as I shall no longer need."
The admiral gazed back at her silently.
St. Hubbins said, "Ensign, I believe you meant to say, 'I request permission to go off-base in order to clear up my personal affairs.'"
"Yes, it is as you said," she replied. Still the admiral said nothing.
"You have to say it, Rose," Smalls urged her.
"Oh, all right," she snapped. "I request permission to go off-base in order to clear up my personal affairs."
"Permission granted," Admiral White said easily. "I trust this will be the last time?"
"Yes, sir," she said tightly. "Like any good conscript, I am cutting my ties with the civilian world. It's not like I have many ties to cut."
"Very good," the admiral nodded as he rose. "There will be much consternation at Admiralty Headquarters when they hear about this, but that is not your problem to solve. Your only problem is to train this dragon... and this former civilian," he added cuttingly, with a nod toward Rose, "...in the ways and the discipline of the Aviator Corps, and prepare them for proper training at Loch Laggan. That is all." The four lieutenants and the newly-minted ensign stood at attention as he left, then relaxed, then stood and stared at each other, unsure what ought to happen next.
"I hope I am not being undisciplined," Spina said wistfully, "but I am very hungry."
o
"Another five inches," Tufnel exclaimed as he read his tape measure. "The same as the other wing."
"Is that good?" Spina asked him.
"It's certainly unexpected," the officer answered as he rolled up the tape. "Your growth in length and weight is typical for a young dragon, or at least, for one as gluttonous as you are. But your wingspan and wing growth are without precedent. We had assumed that your long wings were a feature of your birth... I mean hatching, and that they would grow more slowly than the rest of you, so you would have normal proportions when you reached adulthood. This is clearly not the case. It would seem that 'Longwing' is a very good name for you and your kind."
"I am glad of that," she answered seriously. "It would be most monotonous to be known as an Average-Wing."
Rose stroked the wing membrane for a moment, marveling at its smoothness and tautness. Then she asked, "Spina, is there a reason you haven't tried to use these wings yet?"
"I am not sure I am ready for flight," the dragon said with a rare touch of nervousness. "My wings are so long... I am not sure my wing muscles are ready to flap them and hold my entire weight in the air. But you speak of 'my kind.' Are there any others like me?"
"Not yet," Rose replied. "You're the first of your kind. From your eggs, a new breed of dragon will arise!"
"That is a pleasant thought," Spina nodded. "Again, I have no desire to be ordinary. But what of you, Rose? Will a line of wonderful humans arise from your eggs?"
"No," Rose said as she turned away, blushing furiously.
"No? But why not?" the dragon wondered. "You are intelligent, you are not ill-proportioned, and you do not fear dragons. Surely some human male would be glad if you gave him an egg!"
"Spina... with people, it's not that simple," she stammered, humiliated that Lt. Tufnel was listening to this conversation. "It calls for a lifetime commitment, there are social and monetary issues, there are personal concerns... we don't just give each other eggs. On top of all that, I fear that no man will have me."
"Staff and nonsense!" Spina burst out. She had heard that expression last night and was trying to use it correctly.
"I think the word you meant to use is 'stuff,'" Tufnel corrected her. "Stuff and nonsense."
"Perhaps that is how you like to say it," the dragon shot back, "but I have been listening to you officers talking about the absurd ways that military staffs make decisions, and it seems to me that 'staff' and 'nonsense' go very well together. But we were speaking of Rose's reproductive potential. If she offered to give you an egg, Lieutenant, would you refuse?"
Now it was Tufnel's turn to turn red. "Ahh... ahh... you must pardon me, I feel a sneeze coming on." He turned, hastily walked a few steps away, and sneezed, loudly and artificially. He kept walking until he was some distance from them.
"Now that is strange," Spina noted as she cocked her head and watched him. "The lieutenant seemed healthy enough a minute ago. If he is coming down with a sickness, I do hope he does not pass it on to you."
Rose tried to collect herself. "Spina, this may be hard for you to understand, but people don't talk about... eggs, and that sort of thing... so openly. The arrangements are made either by the couple's parents, or by themselves, in private."
"Oh." The Longwing considered this. "Very well; I do not wish to cause a disturbance. I will not talk about eggs and that sort of thing in public again." She brought her head down to Rose's level and whispered, "But I think you are unhappy by yourself. If I find a fine man for you, may I speak to you about him in private?"
Rose scratched the dragon's eye ridges. "Spina, I think you make me happier than any man ever could." She tried and failed to hide a chuckle.
"Humor?" Spina asked.
"I'm not laughing at you. I just find it amusing that you're barely three days out of the shell, and already you're trying to manage my nonexistent personal life."
"I enjoy arranging things," the dragon mused. "Does that bode well for my future? If I am thus when I am so young, then what shall I be when I am fully grown?"
"The Queen of England, I should think," Rose answered with an open smile.
o
"This harness bothers me," Spina complained. "It is too tight in some places, and too loose in others."
"That is unavoidable, my sweet," Rose said. "The harness was made to fit hatchling dragons of all kinds. The buckles and straps can be adjusted to some extent, and I will fix them if you tell me where the need is."
"You mean... I am wearing a used harness?" Spina was aghast.
"That is also unavoidable," Tufnel tried to reassure her as he felt along the straps for tight spots. "Hatchlings grow so quickly that it would be futile to make a harness for one specific young dragon. He would outgrow it in less time than it took to fabricate. So the breeding ground has harnesses in readiness for dragons of all ages and sizes. As one dragon outgrows his harness, another grows into it. It is a tried and tested system."
"But now I feel so common!" the dragon fussed.
"When you are closer to full-grown, you will have your own harness, especially made for you and you alone," Rose promised. "But for now, this is how it must be."
"Is there nothing that can be done to make my harness special?" the dragon almost whined.
Rose began to speak, but Tufnel cut her off. "Ensign, I believe it is my place to handle this. Spina, you make this harness special, by wearing it. No other dragon of such distinction has ever worn it before, and none greater will ever wear it afterward."
"You are a smooth one with words," Spina said, not much mollified.
"Thank you," he nodded, completely missing her sarcasm.
After lunch, Rose returned to the barn first. "I've brought you something that may make you feel better about your harness," she said brightly.
"That seems unlikely," the dragon complained.
"Let us see what you think of this," Rose replied as she opened her fist. Inside was a man's gold ring. Spina instantly forgot all her complaints as she fixated on it. She sniffed it and tried to push at it with her nose. When Rose moved her hand from side to side, the dragon's entire head tracked it, as though her chin was connected to the ring by an invisible wire.
"Yes, it is real gold," Rose explained. "This ring belonged to my father. It is all I have left of him."
The Longwing roused herself to look up at Rose. "Then... perhaps you should not give it away."
"Staff and nonsense!" The phrase was becoming Rose and Spina's private catchphrase. "It is a man's ring; I can't wear it. And I think you will derive much more pleasure from it than I ever could." She looped a thin but strong chain through the ring, then fixed the ends of the chain to two of the buckles on the front of Spina's harness. "There! Now do you hate your harness so badly?"
The dragon craned her neck so she could see the ring. "Oh, that is just the thing! Thank you, Rose! Thank you so very much! That does make a difference."
"Then it makes me happy as well," Rose nodded contentedly. "Now, if you will, consider this possibility..." She whispered in the dragon's ear for half a minute.
They noticed Lt. Tufnel entering the barn. "Look, Lieutenant!" the dragon burst out. "Look at what Rose gave to me!"
"What's all this, then?" Tufnel demanded. "Are you making unauthorized changes to military equipment, Ensign?"
"No... sir," she replied with a mildly acidic tone. "I am giving a gift to my friend."
"Gifts from one service member to another are frowned upon," the lieutenant scolded her. "It breeds unwarranted familiarity, and suggests an attempt to curry favor."
"Really?" she challenged him. "All right. If Spina is a fellow service member, then what is her rank?"
"Rank? Don't be ridiculous!" Tufnel scoffed. "People have rank. Dragons do not. They are dragons, nothing more."
"Then the idea of me currying favor with her is just as ridiculous, isn't it?" she demanded. "As for familiarity, I doubt that Spina will like me better or worse for the giving of a small ring."
"She may like you better than she likes me," Tufnel protested.
"You need not worry about that, either," Spina said, with a passable imitation of Rose's sarcastic tone of voice. "The gold ring changed nothing. I always liked her better than I like you."
"Is that the truth?" he snarled. "Well, we shall see about that, blue dragon! If gold is what you crave, then I will show you something! My family and I can do far better than one small ring!" He stormed out of the barn.
Rose smiled and rested her hand on the dragon's neck. "I think he fell for it. You will soon have a multitude of pretty things to wear on your harness."
"That was a clever tactic," the dragon nodded, carefully resting a clawed forefoot on Rose's forearm. "I hope he keeps his promise. I like pretty things. But even if he gives me a bed of gold to sleep on, I shall still like you best."
