Notes:
5.2k words. That's the longest I've written in a while. Man, Scrooge was pissed at the end of the chapter. I had to stop where I was because his anger was filtering in through to my RP.
On an unrelated note, if anyone wants to RP with me for DuckTales...:P
"We need to plan the second ceremony," Huey announced. They were all gathered together in one of the sitting rooms, including Donald and Della. Della looked weary but radiant, beaming at Dewey, Lena, and Webby. Lena, who was uneasy with adult approval, looked askance. Dewey beamed back at his mother, of course, and Webby smiled indulgently. Dewey had been a mama's boy without a mama until they'd found her in the jungle.
"After that ceremony, you three will be separated, without cell phones and put in remote areas of the continent," Huey continued. "You'll be stuck in your dragon forms and cannot communicate verbally with anyone. You'll also be cut off from your mates telepathically-you'll be able to feel their emotions and their proximities but won't be able to talk to them.
"You might've already noticed the telepathy between yourselves."
Lena ducked her head and stared at the floor. Webby moved closer to her on the couch and squeezed her hand. Dewey on Lena's other side wrapped an arm about her. The three Bondeds were sitting on one couch, Donald and Della on another, and Huey and Louie on a third off to the side so that they could look at everyone. Louie had been scrolling on his phone on and off, probably running another scheme. Right now, he was the least of their problems.
Huey was reading from the JWG, but he'd also memorized the information. He'd read it over many times since before the first ceremony. Lena knew him well enough to know he had memorized it because he thought it was soothing to be able to bring up the information swiftly. Although he wouldn't be losing Dewey, not really, this was the first time in history that the boys had been separated for an extended period of time. They were growing up, older, and apart. And Huey, who considered the triplets a cohesive unit, was doing his best to deal with it without crumbling.
Lena had never had close siblings like that. The closest she'd come was being able to hang out with the triplets when she was with Webby. She didn't know what it was like.
"It might take you a few weeks to locate each other and finish the consummation," Huey added. "As the dragon form doesn't...allow...for certain acts...there will be a spell performed before the second ceremony for Webby and Lena.
"And that's all I'm going to say about that because as far as I'm concerned, you're both my sisters and that's gross."
"What's the matter? You don't want to watch?" Lena teased. She glanced at Webby, who was grinning at her. Lena pushed back the desire to kiss her. She had experience in ignoring her desires, no matter how strong they were. For almost four years, she'd wanted to jump Webby, but she'd been good and disregarded it. It wouldn't help.
"No," Huey said succinctly. "Anyway, we need a date. A couple of weeks between the first consummation and the second ceremony is traditional. Any more than that and we risk leaving the Bond halfway consummated, which means that it could be unwoven if someone knew the right spell. Or someone wanted to capitalize on it, like Magica. If the second ceremony isn't performed by the time four weeks have elapsed…"
"We get it, we get it," Dewey huffed. "We're not gonna let it happen. Set it for two weeks from now. What's with all the doom and gloom, anyway?"
"Uncle Scrooge and Goldie got as far as the first ceremony and consummation," Huey said quietly, putting the JWG under his hat again. "They aren't officially married and they never completed the Flight. It tends to leave people unhinged if they haven't done the Flight. It's like throwing a ball and it never landing because it's still in the air. Forever."
"Or like the beat never drops on dubstep," Dewey said and Huey grimaced.
"Yeah, like that, except less annoying than dubstep. Also, with it partially consummated, if one party dies and leaves the other, in every single case, the other dragon loses their mind. It's the number one cause behind mass killers among dragon kind, unfulfilled Bonds. Of course, fully consummated Bonds where one dies, the other soon follows, but when it's not fully consummated, the other person lives as a lunatic."
Huey pulled out the JWG again in the awkward pause that had ensued.
"Not everyone's a candidate for Bonding. Not everyone finds their true love. Some people have loves, but they're not their soulmates. Only soulmates can Bond."
"So Magica might not be able to Bond with Gladstone anyway," Lena said, smug.
"The first consummation has already occurred," Huey pointed out and grimaced. "That's not something I wanted to think about either. But the chances are increased that they'll be able to go through with it. That's another reason to have the second ceremony soon, so you three are out of danger before they end up on their Flight."
"You lose your memories, don't you?" Lena said and swallowed hard.
"But you're still acting on them, conscious or unconscious," Huey reminded her.
"Maybe it should be sooner than two weeks," Donald said, glancing at the boys with a frown.
"But any less than that and we won't have time to prepare," Della objected.
"The second ceremony tends to be a much more intimate affair," Huey said. "I think we should be okay if we have only a week."
"Assuming Uncle Scrooge comes back before then," Della pointed out.
"We might have to have it without him," Dewey said and his words fell heavily. "What? Just saying."
Della grimaced. "I'd really rather not. But you have a point. We can't wait on Uncle Scrooge to get here for the ceremony. Plus, someone has to keep Magica in line."
"Or throw her under a bus," Lena muttered. She had no problem imagining a bus running her aunt over. And over. An evil grin spread across her face and Webby shot her a worried look. She'd forgotten that she had a dark sense of humor courtesy of Aunt Magica. And that Webby and Dewey didn't.
"We're not throwing anyone under a bus," Donald said and Lena rolled her eyes. Of course they weren't. They weren't any fun at all. And wouldn't Magica dead solve a lot of problems? In Lena's mind, it definitely would.
Magica didn't even have to be mortally wounded. Lena suppressed a snicker.
"Do we have a vague idea where we'll be?" Dewey asked, changing the subject. He could sense Lena's thoughts too and, to her surprise, he and Webby leaned forward to touch her hands. Warmth rushed through her and she was embarrassed by it and the support they showed her. She didn't deserve them. They were too good for her. Abashed, she didn't meet anyone's gaze.
"It'll have to be somewhere unpopulated or relatively low populated," Huey answered. "Beyond that, we're not allowed to tell you."
"But you know," Dewey pressed.
"Of course we know," Louie scoffed. "We're not going to dump you somewhere and then spend weeks wondering where you went."
"But in the history of Bonding, the couples and threesomes never failed to find their significant others," Huey added.
"There's always a first time," Louie teased and Huey elbowed him. Despite that, Louie smirked.
"But anyway…" Huey said. "We'll be able to monitor it. We'll make sure nothing goes horribly wrong. Not that we're anticipating that it will."
Except Magica was still a factor. Lena's stomach churned and Webby and Dewey clutched her hands tightly. She had to stop herself from thinking that although they'd consummated the first time, there was still time for them to change their minds. That was a dark mental road to travel and they'd cotton on quickly. Her self-loathing rose nonetheless and burned her insides. It was like a weight she couldn't get rid of.
"As long as you have your necklace in dragon form, you'll be okay," Webby assured Lena.
"For the actual ceremony itself, we have a non-denominational priest to help," he continued, determined to keep the conversation from deviating. "Like I said. I'll bring him in a couple of days from now and we'll catch him up."
"Is it anyone we know?" Louie asked idly.
"Fenton," Huey admitted and blushed. Everyone looked up at him and he huffed. "What? He read some courses online and he mostly knows what he's doing. He's good for it."
"Not sure I can trust someone who can barely keep a suit that's powered by his own brain in check," Louie said. "Just saying."
"It takes a while for him to get acclimated to changes in the suit!" Huey said hotly, clearly defensive about his favorite superhero.
"And what if he ends up Bonding our brother to, say, the koi pond instead?" Louie teased.
"He will not!" Huey snapped, jumping to his feet.
"Louie," Donald said in a warning tone. "Don't rile up your brother."
"I'm just making a point," Louie said, but he looked smug. Lena rolled her eyes. Brothers.
"He'll be fine," Huey said in a tone that sounded downright threatening. Lena snickered.
"Don't you start in," the red attired boy warned Lena. She didn't even feign an innocent look. Instead, she exchanged grins with Louie. Huey was too easy a target sometimes.
"You can't give us a general idea where the others will be?" Dewey pressed. This was unusual. She could feel his agitation and wondered what was feeding it. Was he anticipating trouble? She couldn't penetrate deeply enough to determine that. Unconsciously, her hand slipped toward her amulet and she squeezed it until its edges dug into her palm. In doing so, she released Dewey's hand. Her heart thudded.
"Midwest, Southeast, and North," Huey said. "That's it. And I can't tell you who will be where because that'll be randomized."
Nonetheless, the information seemed to mollify the middle triplet and he settled back. His gaze landed on Lena and Lena wished she could relinquish her grip on the amulet, but she was still apprehensive. There was time for Magica to make another move and punish her for letting Poe die. She'd failed her father. Horrible guilt swept in with the self-loathing and she wished she could leave the room. She also wished she knew how to wall out Dewey and Webby to keep them from knowing what was running through her mind.
"She won't touch you," Webby hissed. Lena had a flashback to last night and the feel of her skin against hers. She felt guiltier, knowing how much she'd enjoyed being with the two of them. How much she loved Webby and how she was growing to care for Dewey.
"I can always distract her," Della suggested with an impish grin. "She's hated me forever. And then there was that fling we had…"
"Ew, gross!" the boys exclaimed and Lena stared hard at the female Dragon.
"You're kidding, right?" Lena said.
In answer, Della just kept grinning. Webby looked torn between filing that away for future knowledge of the Dragon clan and being disturbed by it. The boys certainly were. Lena was unsettled, as she didn't like to think of Magica as anything other than pure evil. And pure evil definitely didn't have liaisons like that.
"That was more than I wanted to know," Donald grumbled.
"Same here," Louie muttered.
"It'll all work out," Della reassured Lena. "I won't let anything happen to my daughter-in-law."
Lena flushed. That was right. She wasn't Lena de Spell anymore. She and Webby had taken Dewey's last name. Well, Webby had hyphenated. Lena was Lena Dragon and Webby was Vanderquack-Dragon. Lena had some fun last night teasing her about being Webby V-D. Webby interlaced her fingers with Lena's.
"So, with that in mind…" Della suggested. "I can make cake-"
"No," Huey said hastily. "That's okay, Mom."
The last time she'd made a cake, she'd set the oven on fire. Mrs. Beakley had not been pleased with the result. There was an unwritten rule that while Donald was a disaster in the kitchen, he was at least relatively innocuous. Della, on the other hand, was a hot mess that Mrs. Beakley didn't want anywhere near anything that could explode, burst into flames, or otherwise destroy itself.
"Mrs. B can make the cake," Dewey added quickly to avoid hurting his mother's feelings. "No offense, Mom."
"Oh, no, it's fine," she replied. "After all, we don't want an exploding oven. Again. Mrs. B never let me live that one down."
Della grimaced, shaking her head. Evidently, the memory still stung, years later. She'd tried making a cake when she returned home from her jungle adventures to celebrate her children's missing birthdays and it had gone as well as to be expected-more excitement than actual skill, as Webby had told her, albeit in a more tactful way than that. Mrs. Beakley's anger was legendary, mostly because Della had set the kitchen on fire as a result of her baking attempts.
"Well, now that that's settled," Della added, attempting to regain face, "we should celebrate. I've never planned a second ceremony before."
"You and Huey have fun with that," Louie said. "I'll be here. On my phone. Ignoring you."
"Aren't you excited?" Webby asked, jumping up and down in her seat. "We'll be linked together for centuries!"
Lena would've been more excited if she hadn't suspected her aunt was simply biding her time, waiting for the right moment.
As a matter of fact, Magica had two things occupying her mind right now. One of which was, of course, revenge. The other was fretting over Bonding with Gladstone. Now that she'd consummated it, he could feel her emotions too. No one had ever known her so intimately, not even her brother. Love and compassion were supposed to be a weakness. Gladstone could turn her weakness against her.
Magica had at present isolated herself from her betrothed and was standing in his kitchen, which had a beautiful view of Dragonburg Bay. From here, she could almost see Cape Suzette. Her heart hammered in her ribs. Gladstone could destroy her and so easily, too. She was terrified, especially because she knew that everything running through her head could if he were paying attention to it be in his mind as well. She rubbed her arms.
Bonding wasn't supposed to be like this. For anyone else, she supposed it wouldn't have been. For anyone else, particularly someone more light-sided, they would have been luxuriating in it. Magica's throat was tight. It was too late to back out. She'd passed the point of no return.
What if Gladstone saw her for who she truly was and decided not to go through with it after all? Beyond Scrooge deciding her life was forfeit, it'd mean someone knew her for her and decided to repudiate her because of it. Because even they knew her soul was rotten. Normally, she wouldn't have cared. But with Gladstone, she cared all too much.
From here, she thought she could see Baloo's plane too, though it might've just been a speck in the sky. She could've been imagining it. She knew she wasn't imagining her heart pounding or her dry palms that she kept wiping on her dress. It was the same dress she'd worn last night, not having bothered to change or shower yet. She kept expecting the second shoe to drop and in that position, she couldn't allow herself the vulnerability that showering left.
She was being stupid. She knew she was and yet, she was powerless to stop it.
That was another thing. Love made you stupid. She had mocked Lena for the same thing and yet, here she was. Magica rested her head against the cool glass door that looked out onto the balcony of Gladstone's high-rise apartment. That same plane speck was doing loop de loops. She almost wished she were there instead.
A sentimental fool. That's what she was. Magica sighed, self-loathing burning through her. She'd far rather be arrogant and ignore her insecurity. She was Magica de Spell, for fuck's sake. She was the best sorceress she'd ever known or ever would know. Yes, she was missing an eye and a tail. Yes, a child had bested her. She might've been down, but she wasn't out. And she could still take her revenge on Webby and Lena.
That was another thing. If she got her revenge on them, Gladstone might repudiate her. Her heart clenched. Surely as a neutral creature, he would understand her need for vengeance. It was only light-siders that didn't perceive the necessity for it. She extended her mental powers out but, again, Lena was defended by that necklace. She'd grown so accustomed to lashing out at Lena to relieve stress and help herself feel better that she felt bereft without that outlet.
A small purple and black dragon was flying over the bay and caught Magica's attention. Dragons weren't uncommon in a place named after them, of course not, but the black and purple dragon intrigued her nonetheless. She sensed untapped magical potential and it'd been a long time since she'd noticed that outside of her niece. Who might this be?
And would she answer if she reached out to her mind? Could she do so? She knew she had a mental connection with Lena due to their shared blood. This creature, however, might not be able to respond. Crooking her mental finger, she beckoned the purple and black dragon toward her. The female dragon turned and Magica smiled.
Violet. Violet Sabrewing. The girl had no mental defenses, clearly not anticipating any sort of attack, and knowledge of her and about her flooded Magica with a simple nudge in her mind. Not only was Violet unguarded, but she was also naive. She had no idea she had such magical potential or that she was transmitting herself to anyone capable of receiving that transmission. Magica's smile broadened.
The girl was a bookish sort, which meant she had no street smarts. That was even better. She wouldn't know how to protect herself against Magica's onslaught. But Magica didn't intend to attack her. This required a more deft touch.
It was almost pathetic how vulnerable Violet was to Magica's probing. She was ambitious, which impressed her. She wanted to know more about magic and yet was turning to the wrong thing-books-which were too dry and weak to hold her attention for long. Sooner or later, Violet would want to experiment with the real thing and Magica intended to be there when she did to entice her. Violet wasn't associated with the Dragons or Lena. That meant she was a new canvas and completely oblivious to Magica's machinations.
She might be able to foist her off on Lena or Webby. If she could just nab that necklace away from Lena, she'd be vulnerable before her again. If she could figure out a spell to immobilize Webby, one that Violet could enact, then Magica could swoop down and destroy her up close and personal. Unlike Violet, Webby wasn't vulnerable to magical attacks. Mrs. Beakley had trained her granddaughter too well for her to fall for that. It was a shame, but then again, if killing her had been easy, she would have done it ages ago. Impudent whelp.
She let the plan foment in the back of her mind and folded her arms across her chest. Though she didn't have a tail in humanoid form, she could feel its absence keenly. She caught herself rubbing the area above her rear where it should've been and suppressed a sigh. If she were being honest with herself (and she was the only one she'd tell this to), she'd had it coming. Webby was fiercely protective over her loved ones, like everyone in that extended family. Loyalty was strong within clan McDragon and its associates.
Focusing on that airplane speck again, she nonetheless heard footsteps over polished wooden floorboards and permitted Gladstone to approach her. She couldn't have been oblivious to him anyway; the nascent Bond between them accentuated everything, including physical sensations. Her skin had prickled at his approach.
He placed his hands on her shoulders and then drew her into his chest. His hands slid down to her waist and she let him hold her.
He didn't speak, for which she was grateful. Instead, he rested his chin on her shoulder and then kissed her on the cheek. She moved slowly, wary of upsetting her balance, and kissed him on the lips. The spark, part of the Bond, leaped between them and suddenly, she wanted more. If she'd had a tail, it would've been lashing in anticipation. Her heart thundered in her ears and she could feel him responding. He wanted her as badly as she wanted him. Their kisses grew more intense and his hands moved to a less chaste position on her body. He picked her up, carrying her over to the adjacent living room, and put her down on a couch before resuming their kiss.
He wasn't going to comment on her thoughts, though she knew he'd heard them or at least sensed them. That might've been the reason why his kisses were so passionate, though it wouldn't end with kissing, not now.
Gladstone broke off the kiss and rested his forehead against hers. They were panting and his hands had left her hips and rear to slip to her back. He was tugging at her zipper.
"I'm never going to leave you," he said and her heart pounded. Was it an idle promise from a man who had never worked a day in his life? Or did he mean it? Was there even a remote chance he could see the darkness within her and not shy away? Her body and the spark, which was lust and love bundled in one, was impatient to get on with this and ignore her compunctions. She had to bite her lower lip to keep herself in line and she feared that wouldn't be enough, not for very long.
"I mean it, Magica," he said. He was having the same difficulty keeping himself in line as she was. Her hands drifted too and slid down his stomach.
"I love you and I'm never going to leave you," he said and kissed her neck. His lips trailed down lower and ignited a fire in her stomach and groin. "I swear on my life."
Her lips quirked toward a smile. "You shouldn't swear by that. You never know what could happen."
At least he hadn't commented on her preoccupation with Violet. Perhaps he hadn't noticed. And now it was harder to think because her desire for him was too strong to permit lingering on anything else. He moved against her and she bit back a moan. All right, she'd figure out what she was doing with Violet later. She wanted Gladstone too badly to care about anyone or anything else.
Goldie had wanted to fly the entire way in dragon form, but Scrooge's problems with that were twofold. One, when they were both in dragon form, the urge to consummate the Bond with her in that form and completely link them was too strong to be denied. Two, and more importantly, they'd make better time in an airplane.
The Sunchaser had left early with Launchpad at the helm. Both Scrooge and Goldie were too tired to make chit-chat and Scrooge's thoughts were miles away anyway. Part of him wondered, albeit a part he wouldn't vocalize, whether he wouldn't have been better off negating Magica's influence years ago, back when he'd trapped her in dragon form. If he had known about Poe and Lena, he would have. He should have. He had no one to blame for their fate but himself.
He could fix that. If he found the lamp before Goldie, he could wish for a reversal. You couldn't change certain events in time-fixed points and all that-but you could take someone out of time before they were about to perish. It hadn't been done in centuries, because the magic that required it was immense. While dragons could demonstrate small magical feats, the greater, stronger powers had started to fade out of the world. Only the truly old dragons, sorcerers, and sorceresses could accomplish it. Magica, obviously, wasn't one of those. She wasn't that old, even-she was in her late thirties, the same age as Donald, Della, Fethry, and Gladstone. They'd grown up together.
If he recalled correctly, Magica had always had a crush on Gladstone but had refused to act on it. He knew that they'd hung about each other, despite Scrooge discouraging it. It was like the more he discouraged it, the more Gladstone insisted on meeting up with clan de Spell. They were ancestral enemies for a reason, damn it.
Not that he could've done much. The boy was besotted and look what a bad egg Magica had turned into. He ought to have known from the onset that Magica would be no good. Poe had shared her fate, too, because of her foolishness and stubbornness.
Lena wasn't cut from the same cloth, somehow. He didn't know how she'd evaded that destiny but he never would've allowed his grand-nephew to Bond with her if he'd felt differently. Webby was one thing. He knew Webby-she'd been around the manor since her parents had perished in a SHUSH related assignment. Webby might've been overenthusiastic and overeager, but she was loyal to a fault. Even to him, which he didn't always deserve-but he wouldn't admit that. After all, Scrooge McDragon had deserved all of his accolades and fan clubs.
"I'd ask you a penny for your thoughts, but you'd probably keep it to yourself, you penny-pincher," Goldie snorted.
"It's nothing," he replied, shaking his head. He didn't feel like divulging it right now and she could probably divine it without much guessing.
"Suit yourself, Moneybags," she said with a shrug. "It's gonna be a long flight if you don't start talking."
"I could run Darkwing Dragon!" Launchpad offered.
"No...that's all right, laddie…" Scrooge said, wincing. Launchpad's enthusiasm for Darkwing Dragon was too much most of the time. Or all of the time, if he were being honest.
"Making up your mind what you're going to wish for?" Goldie prodded after another few minutes had passed in silence.
He wanted to ask her why she wouldn't Bond with him fully but knew that to ask it would be to sound like a petulant child. They were clearly meant to be together. They'd been through so much, including betrayal and backstabbing. Perhaps that was why she wouldn't fully Bond with him. Maybe, at their basest level, they weren't soulmates. He'd never heard of a Bond pair that, once started, didn't share souls, but then again, he'd also never heard of a Bond that had remained half-consummated for this long. It'd been over a century and she hadn't flown with him. He kept telling himself not to think about it, which only seemed to make the problem loom larger.
Goldie was watching him intently. "What?"
"You're really not going to talk to me?" she asked, pouting slightly. "I'm hurt."
"What do ye care? You're probably plottin' how to stab me in the back as soon as ye get the lamp!" Scrooge snapped.
"Such a lack of trust. How are we ever going to be partners if you can't bring yourself to fully trust me, Scroogie?"
"I'm not the only one who donnae trust someone!" he countered. "If ye fully trusted me, we'd be Bonded by now!"
"Oh, this again," she said and rolled her eyes.
"Aye, this again," he snapped back.
"We've been over this. And over this. I'm not rehashing it with you again. Just get over it, old man."
He'd hit a nerve and he wasn't sure where. Part of him was determined to poke and prod at it until the reason was brought to light. A combination of frustration and fatigue swept over him. If Goldie wanted to have her secrets, then fine. He wouldn't bother. She had made her stance clear, after all. They weren't meant to be fully Bonded. He shouldn't have been holding out for the impossible.
"Then perhaps after we get the lamp, we ought to part ways," he snapped. She frowned.
"If you say so," she said, shrugging. Her attempt at nonchalance was infuriating. Then again, she was, in general, being infuriating, so perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised. No, nothing about Goldie should've been surprising and yet, somehow, he ended up taken aback every single damn time.
"You'll be back as always," he muttered. "Ye cannae leave well enough alone."
"Why spoil a good thing?" Goldie asked, shrugging.
Scrooge was back to feeling like a petulant child. Folding his arms across his chest, he determinedly looked away. Launchpad was, thankfully, staying out of this. That was good because it was above his pay grade to interfere.
"Are you really going to hold it against me?" she asked.
"Ye threw my ring back in my face!" he snapped, glaring at her.
"The time wasn't right. I can't believe you're still upset about that. That was sixty years ago. Get over it."
"Still feels like yesterday," he muttered. He raised his voice. "An' when is the time going to be right? Never?"
"I don't know. Jeez. I thought we were here to have a bit of fun, not this," she snapped. "If you're going to act this way, I'll just fly to Peru myself."
"An' still manage to head me off," he grumbled.
"I can't help being faster," she said and then frowned, perhaps sensing that now was not the time to needle him. "Scroogie, we need two different things. Why ruin a good thing, like I said, by putting expectations on it? We're better off when we're not serious."
"That's your opinion," he said. He really didn't want to continue this conversation if she was going to act like this.
"You're acting like a child."
"And you're so innocent?" he shot back. "Little Miss Glittering Goldie O'Gilt? The Ice Queen of Dawson?"
For a moment, she simply glared back. He matched her. He didn't care if he was acting sophomoric. She'd stung his pride, of which he had a considerable amount. As far as he was concerned, her reasons were bull. She was stringing him along because she was afraid of something. Maybe she didn't really want to pair with him. Maybe she only wanted their brief brushes and that was it. Maybe he wasn't worth it in her mind. The thought infuriated him, not the least of which because he felt he deserved better than that.
"You knew all of this going into it," Goldie countered. "Don't act all surprised now."'
"You're right," he spat. "I shouldnae."
Another silence fell, this one tenser than the previous. It seemed that winning hadn't been what Goldie had been after. Whatever she wanted, however, he was at a loss to provide it. She was right. This was going to be a long flight.