A/N: We're off to rescue Victoriatus!
R&R
Nine
With some quick signaling, a plan was formed midair. Daemon would immediately follow Volly, his crew setting off periodic flares to mark his position, so Temeraire could follow, also setting of flares for Maximus (who was by far the slowest of the three young dragons). With that decided, Daemon flared his wings and pumped once, hard, zooming forward and easily catching up to his small Greyling friend. Volly immediately sped up, while Daemon continued at a slightly slower pace, keeping the other well within his normal vision, and Lieutenant Smithe firing a flare every so often.
"Lieutenant Rogers had Jamie sign that, at this speed, and calculating how fast the injured dragon is going, we should be on them within an hour and a half!" Josie told Joshua, who called the information to Daemon, who nodded, keeping his wings spread at their farthest.
"Have the men practice maneuvers while we're waiting," Joshua ordered; the ten-year-old red-head nodded, and immediately signed the order. Daemon tilted his head so he could watch as his back become a hive of movement, men crawling around on his back swiftly, even the riflemen, who usually wouldn't move much except for when boarding an enemy dragon, or when boarded.
"Lieutenant Rogers asks if we should clear the back when we reach our destination," Josie said aloud suddenly, reading the signals Jamie was sending her. The two had come up with their own personal signals for entire sequences that they would use for only the two of them, and had memorized the usual flags already as well.
"That would be best," Daemon announced when he felt Joshua hesitate. "I may need to hold him up with my back. So, to clear my back when he comes in sight would be the best move."
"Make it so, Lieutenant Rogers," Joshua said to Josie, who quickly signed the order to her friend Jamie so he could pass the message. An hour and a half, on the dot, later, the dragon came into view, larger by half then the two Yellow Reapers struggling to support his drooping weight. The Parnassian (as Joshua named him) was laboring tiredly, his black and cream hide covered in blood-soaked gauze. Volly flew back to Daemon as they moved towards the wounded dragon.
"We're heading back to lead Temeraire," James called over the voice horn, gesturing with hand signs. Joshua waved a hand to signal them on, both Jamie and Josie flashing the signals to show that the massage had been received, and the Greyling zoomed back the way they'd come.
Flapping forward, his back cleared of all crew, who hung from the net and rings of his belly, Daemon circled down behind the larger dragon. Josie sent the signal exchange positions on lead dragon's mark at Joshua's order, and flags waved on the two Reapers in acknowledgement. Then on both sides of the supporting dragons, red flags went out. Then, they were swapped for green, and the two dragons dropped and peeled aside, letting Daemon slide smoothly in to take their place, his body taking the space between the larger dragons legs, his back pressing against his chest and stomach. There was no time to panic over the dragon's size, or the position. His wings sliced out and down firmly, having to flap more then he was used to, but he was able to keep the dragon up by himself.
The Yellow Reapers flew in front of them, relieved of their burden but still heavy with the dragon's crew and tired from the strain. Daemon grimaced and continued to pump his wings steadily and firmly, knowing he still had a good two hours before Temeraire would reach them. Joshua and Josie hung from the underside of his neck, so that his head could hold the other dragons up and give him as much of a rest as he could.
"This is going to be an interesting flight," he murmured, sighing, and continued to flap his wings.
It was two hours and a bit more until Temeraire came into view, and Daemon gave a relieved sigh. His wings were beginning to ache, and if his scales hadn't been so hard (something that was meant to make him immune to his own acid, they had learned from Sir Edwards books, so that if he mated with another of his own kind, or got in a fight with one, then they wouldn't be able to burn one another) he was pretty sure Victoriatus would have clawed his sides to ribbons. He was just lucky that, when he'd grown, they'd seen fit to add extra chains (at his request) instead of more leather, or else his harness would have been in ruins by now as well.
"Temeraire is in view," he called, and a cheer went up from his belly (a strange thing, but he could ignore it), and the Yellow Reapers crews all cheered as well at the sight of the large black Imperial dragon. Temeraire circled around and Daemon found himself repeating the move that he'd had the two Yellow Reapers do just hours ago. Only, confused by the sudden shifting and pain, Victoriatus scrabbled at Temeraire, his claws (larger then normal) leaving great scratches on the black dragons shoulder and side. Alarmed, Daemon flew up and crooned to the injured dragon soothingly, nuzzling his bloody face gently, calmly, and he soon fell still under both that and his Captain's coaxing. Temeraire's crew had the wound covered in gauze, and, just from the look of it, Daemon would guess and say that it was shallow. He remained where he was as his crew climbed back to their places, securing the harness wherever it was torn, flying backwards and continuously crooning to the pain-glazed dragon.
There was something useful about abnormally strong parental instincts, it appeared, and being able to sooth a larger and older dragon seemed to be one of them, in this case, at least.
"Laurence, hold on!" Temeraire suddenly called, and Daemon's head snapped over that way, instinctively ducking so he didn't unseat his Captain. Laurence was in very real danger of falling off the side of Temeraire, while attempting to fix a nearly-broken shoulder-strap. Without hesitation, Daemon flipped and dove down underneath his friend, until his back was directly beneath the other dragon's dangerously dangling Captain so that, should he fall, he would easily and quickly be caught, and Temeraire needn't drop Victoriatus to catch him, which was what he was moving to do.
He needn't have worried, though, because as he anxiously watched, Lieutenant Granby, Laurence's lieutenant, rescued the Captain and soon, with the help of the rest of the crew, had him back at the base of Temeraire's neck.
"I am fine, Temeraire," Laurence called through a speaking trumpet clearly. "Only, keep flying." The tension left the Imperial, and he regained the altitude he had lost. Daemon breathed a sigh of relief, and tilted out from under his friend so that he could return to crooning to the injured Parnassian. He felt Joshua rub the sensitive base of his horns.
"Well done, Daemon," he called. "Well done." Daemon purred and continued to croon as Victoriatus' claws were bandaged to keep him from clawing Temeraire any more, and then Maximus was coming into sight, hurrying to their assistance.
The mission had been a success.
Temeraire was given a week of rest and relaxation for the shallow wounds to heal. Daemon nuzzled his head in relief before he nuzzled Laurence as well, then he moved on, nudging or nuzzling each and every member of his own crew who, after two weeks, had learned to bear the affectionate dragon's coddling, though it was rather amusing to most of them.
"I am hungry," he declared abruptly, head jerking up and silver eyes looking around with interest. "Pray, Joshua, let us go to the feeding grounds," he pleaded, his stomach making itself known for the first time in two months. Quickly, his harness was removed to be repaired, and Joshua led him by foot to the feeding grounds, where two cows were released for him. He quickly killed and ate these, and eagerly waited for more. After some quick discussion, four sheep were released, and Daemon killed and ate these as well, needing only two more sheep after them before he was full. Humming with contentment, he glided back up the hill where Joshua waited, and smiled down at his hatchling.
"That was a good meal," He informed him happily, sighing with satisfaction. Joshua laughed, and ordered him to go off and bathe, which he obeyed, rolling in the icy water with relish after having walked Joshua back to the courtyard. He rose out of the water and dove back in, gulping in a few mouthfuls every once in a while, but otherwise just swimming. He had no idea how much water he had stored now, but it had to be around a thousand or more pounds. Deciding he'd think about it some other time, the Steelwing rose from the water and flew towards the courtyard, settling outside it next to Temeraire with a happy yawn.
"That meal will last me at least another two months," he informed his friend warmly, licking his chops happily. He curiously eyed the little tent set up so that Laurence could sleep beside Temeraire in comfort, but shrugged it off. Feeling tired and now a little queasy (as he always did after a meal), Daemon curled up and wrapped his wings around himself, settling in for a nice, long nap, his tired wings aching softly as he sigh.
He dreamt once more of the Black Lake in wintertime, and again, was at peace.
He woke near sundown, and took to the air, flying over to the Practice Courtyard, where Celeritas was.
"Well flown, Daemon," the older dragon said in the most approving way. "Very well flown. No need to apologize, I know the strain that was put upon you during the mission while waiting for relief. I also understand that you have eaten for the first time in seven weeks, yes?" Daemon nodded sheepishly, scratching behind his right horn in embarrassment. "Good, good. Captain Blemmings and Lieutenant Rogers have both given me their accounts, which is just as it should be. Temeraire is doing well, I hope?" Daemon nodded.
"He's been given a week and orders to eat and rest as much as he likes, sir," he replied simply; the old dragon nodded with a hum.
"Excellent. I trust you have been working on your signal flags outside of training with him, yes? You are still a little slow to recognize the more complex of them." Wincing, Daemon nodded again, more rapidly. "Yes sir, I most definitely have been," he said earnestly. "Temeraire has been helping me a lot with them in his free time, between his meals and things." Celeritas nodded again, and then had him to a few one-winged circuits of the valley in the near-dark of late evening… Well, near-dark to him. It was much brighter to Daemon, so he was comfortable, especially with the energy his nap and fresh meal had given him.
"I shall see you tomorrow at noon," Celeritas told him firmly after having him land. "You may go ahead and sleep in the morning, to get used to your meal. I shall see you tomorrow, Daemon. Goodnight," he said, turning to fly away.
"Goodnight, Celeritas," Daemon called after him, and took to the air, flying over the covert in a few lazy circles. He glided over the lake, dipping a wingtip into the water every so often, his body well away from its surface. He hummed, and shifted up, aimed at the moon. After a few hundred feet, he turned and tucked his wings close, plummeting at a deadly speed, eyes locked on his reflection in the water, steadily growing. At the last second, he snapped his wings open, and soared up and away from the water without even causing a ripple, though his toes and tail-spikes had been less then a half-inch away. He soared quietly, enjoying his freedom.
"And it's all because Dumbledore threw me away," he murmured, smiling slightly. He really had to thank the man. Not for the torture he'd gone through, but for at least not keeping him himself, because if he had, who knew what mindless puppet he would have gotten, without a soul or free-thought of his own in his entire body. Humming the tune from Spiral dance, he continued to circle over Loch Laggan.
"…In the arms of the great stone circle…"
Dawn came and he landed next to Temeraire lightly, yawning as the huge dragon began to wake.
"You just going to bed?" the black Imperial asked sleepily; Daemon hummed in agreement, curling upon himself.
"Celeritas said I can train at noon today, so I can sleep off my meal for now," he told his friend groggily, yawning again, feeling his jaw pop slightly. "G'night, Temeraire," he murmured, and Temeraire murmured back to him as he shut his wings, closing out the sun, and went to sleep.
He woke a few hours later to Joshua's familiar tap-tap-tap on his wings, and opened one eye and one wing to peer at the boy lazily.
"Don't have to work 'til noon," he told him simply; the boy gave him an amused look.
"And it's an hour until then now," he said dryly, making Daemon groan and open his wings, only to uncoil so he was lying on his back, a forearm over his eyes.
"Don't wanna get up yet," he complained, and made Joshua laugh, the boy climbing onto his stomach and walking carefully up his chest.
"Come on, lazy-bones," he said lightly, using both hands to scratch the slightly bulging spot on the exposed underside of the purple-and-silver dragon's chin, where his chemical-sac was, and making the dragon go limp, purring loudly. "You need to get up so we can put your fixed harness on you and check to make sure everything is working properly," the boy sang, grinning as he manipulated the dragon. Finally, Daemon sighed, and turned, carefully sending Joshua tumbling to the thick grass as he got to all fours.
"Fine," he said moodily. "I'm awake. Doesn't mean I have to be happy about it, does it?" he asked, nuzzling the boy as he laid on the grass; the fifteen-year-old laughed and rubbed his nose lovingly, before getting up, straightening his bottle-green jacket, and leading him away to get re-harnessed. Once that was done and his entire crew was on him in their proper places, Daemon leaped into the air, glided once over the lake (as was his usual habit before and after training) and then headed for the Training Courtyard.
There he and Maximus spent the whole day finishing the upside-down maneuvers that they had had interrupted the previous day, which he also had to fly with one wing. He found it all rather boring, and dozed off halfway through one of the maneuvers, which lead to him getting scolded by Celeritas for a good ten minutes, to his embarrassment.
After that, he concentrated on his work, and did it diligently, no matter how boring. He loathed being scolded, or having someone he liked and respected disappointed in him, and having Celeritas give him that look… Well, it's safe to say that he wouldn't be dozing off again for a very long time.
At dinner, he dropped his crew off at the courtyard, stopped to chat with Temeraire for a few moments, and then took his usual fly over the lake, breathing deeply and enjoying the peace. It was broken by Orianna, the young Yellow Reaper he'd flown in the Endurance Trial of Doom with, flew up beside him.
"Hello Daemon," she greeted happily, and he smiled at her easily in greeting. She was slightly smaller then him in size, and flew below and to the right of him, so that he could flap his left wing only or risk hitting her. He didn't mind. "I hope you do not mind if I fly with you; it is just that it is too beautiful an evening to fly in alone. Don't you agree?" She smiled at him and looked at him a little sideways, and, slightly bemused, Daemon agreed and smiled back.
When he was finished with his circuit of the lake, Orianna at his side, he landed at the shore so that he could walk his way to Temeraire. Orianna landed beside him, and, as they walked, got steadily closer until her small wings brushed his own, making him lean away.
"Oh!" she blurted, looking at him, smiling. "Sorry about that," she tittered, skipping a bit to the right. "I didn't even notice how close I was getting to you. I apologize," she said, looking away and, once again, eying him sideways.
"It's not a problem," Daemon told her quickly, worried he might have offended the little female, and confused. "I was just a little startled, is all. My wings can be a bit sensitive at some random points in time, and when you brushed them, I wasn't expecting it." She smiled at him, and he hesitantly smiled back. He walked her to the courtyard, where she reluctantly left him with a flustered "Goodnight, Daemon" and another sideway glance, and he bemusedly walked back to his usual place next to Temeraire, who looked at him askance, curious.
"Females are strange," he said honestly, simply; Temeraire blinked. "I do not believe I shall ever come to understand them in any way at all." With that, he bade his friend goodnight, and curled up to stare to the east and await the sun.
He was still staring sometime around midnight when all of Orianna's little sideways looks and glances, all her brushes and touches, finally linked together in his mind. Oh sweet Merlin, he thought with mild panic. She was flirting with me! Shuddering, he curled tighter upon himself, ad promised that, unless it was absolutely necessary, he would refrain from going anywhere near the Yellow Reaper and, if he had to, then he would be nothing but courteous and distant. Nothing he would do or say would let her think he was remotely interested in her in (shudder) that way.
With his plan cemented firmly in his mind, he returned his gaze to the east, and once more awaited the sun, thoughts of flirting female dragons cast aside for the moment as they all focused on the await of the morning.
A/N: Lolz, poor Daemon! Please R&R~!