Synchronous
By Shahrezad1
Summary: "A bird may love a fish, Signore, but where would they live?" Synlet. Tie in to chapter 5.
The tenth in a series of Synlet challenges for Synlet month. =^__^= Which was, ya know, in November. ^^;
Disclaimer: Syndrome (alias Buddy Pine) and Violet Parr belong to Brad Bird, the creators at Pixar, and the Disney/Pixar company itself.
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Chapter 10: The Serpent and the Sparrow
"A bird may love a fish, Signore, but where would they live?"
--Danielle, Ever After
"Then I shall have to make you wings."
--Leonardo Da Vinci, Ever After
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"…what if I were to tell you that I could make you far greater than the King ever was? To elevate you to such heights that none could stop you--none could keep you from your path of glory?"
And then he knew.
He had become a Dragon, the most evil of all creatures. Hunted by Knight and by mob, ever alone and eternally pursued. He was cursed…and there was no way to be free of it.
-Synchronous, Chapter 5
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His wings were wide enough to block out the moonlight, she realized sleepily as she curled up more tightly within the warm sport just at the base of his neck, pressed between two notched ridges. The wings also cut out both noise and the wind chill, she'd discovered in their travels and took solace in now. It was a proverbial nest, and wrapped in both her traveling cloak and blanket she couldn't recall feeling safer in all her life.
But it couldn't last forever, and she found herself struggling to stand up as sleep eluded her. Bracing hands soft with a life of, first, embroidery, then later research on the toughened plates of his shoulder blades, she was able to reach the narrow ridge of spires running along his spine. Lifting herself up into position upon his shoulder.
It was a precarious position to be in, but Viola wanted to be relatively on the same level as his eyes when she spoken to him, her arms wrapped tightly around one side of his neck.
"So…where are we?" she called into the wind, but the rush of air stole her words so that they came back as no more than a whisper. Still, his sensitive ears heard her and the man-beast answered without pausing.
'Somewhere above Metrovillage. I lost track when it started raining a while back.'
"Rain?" she frowned, drawing her cover closer about her shoulders, "I don't remember any rain."
It was the dragon's turn to turn bashful; a singularly out of character moment.
'I…blocked it out. Just pulled my wings closer together for a while, is all.'
"For how long?" she asked suspiciously.
'…about an hour.'
"You could have landed, you know. For the night at least," the sensible side of her spoke up, thinking about what it must have been like to fly through frigid rain, "your shoulders are probably going to get all knotted up from the beating you put them through."
'It's quicker this way. The sooner we get in, the sooner we can get out. And when we do…'
"You'll be free from the curse," the young woman filled in, quieter this time. She didn't know why, but every time she thought about it she became melancholy. It was so final, so permanent. And the idea of such a 'free' being wishing to have the constraints of humanity put upon him seemed, somehow…bittersweet. But a promise was a promise, and she'd never been one to go back on her word, "I'll do my best to fix your problem if defeating him outright doesn't work. And even if it takes me years, I'll somehow find a way to transform you back."
'Years, huh? You could end up being stuck with me, Princess.'
A playful shove against the flesh of his neck said without words her slight displeasure. Not so much at his allusion, but the title he'd tacked on at the end. Rolling her eyes Viola muttered, "you know I don't like being called that."
'I beg your forgiveness, your Royal Apprentice-ness.'
"Besides, that wouldn't be such a bad thing. At least I wouldn't be treated like a laughingstock anymore, with you backing me."
'You? Ridiculed? Who would have guessed it?' sardonic humor rolled off his proverbial tongue like butter, and even though she was technically the insulted party in their banter she had to hold back a laugh.
"Why? Does the idea of it surprise you? That someone else beat you to the punch?"
'Not really. You're a pretty easy mark. Even for a Princess.'
"So you've met a lot of Princesses, then? This makes you the expert on all things blue-blooded, I'm guessing," her words arch in tone, he took up the challenge with his own retort.
'No. Just arrogant brats out to make a mess of things.'
Navy eyes narrowed, then rolled, "ha ha. You're a funny one. Tell me another one, like the story of the Dragon that set its own tail on fire."
'That was an accident, and no one can prove it was me!' he proclaimed, and Viola let things lay like that for the next few minutes, her upbeat emotion systematically dropping with every metronomic wing-beat. The young woman's slim legs were nearly tucked up under her chin, only the arm attached to his neck keeping her steady.
"You know," she finally bookmarked the silence, thoughtfully sweeping a few strands of hair from her face, the pieces having escaped from her long braid, "I really did get taunted. And bullied. And tricked. I think it's because when I was born the Sorcerer proclaimed that I would save the kingdom, and father expected a boy. But he got me instead."
'The King rejected you because you weren't male?' the sneer in his mental tone clearly conveyed his own disdain for the man, and Viola rolled her eyes again. This time irritably.
"No! Well, father was disappointed, but he came to love me soon enough."
Wistfully staring up into the night sky, the missing Princess wondered how her family was and whether they were safe. All she had to hold onto was the determined look in King Robert's eye as he had forcibly told her to take the passageway to freedom; a passage only she had been able to fit through. But behind him had stood her mother, Lady Elaine, the baby Jaxon wrapped in her tensed arms. Her brother Dashiell had stood steadfast and immovable before the door under siege, fencing sword sharpened to a deadly point so as to improve the speed of his blows.
They loved her and they trusted her, otherwise her father wouldn't have sent her away in order to save them. It was as simple as that. The moment the wizard had attacked it had all made sense, and in a way it had been a fulfilling of their father-daughter relationship. With the knowledge that, for once, he was going to have to let things remain in the hands of those more experienced.
Even if those hands belonged to his seventeen-year old daughter.
No, her father loved her. More than he could ever express, she knew.
Pondering the gift she had finally come to recognize, Viola continued, "Mother used to tell me stories about when I was a baby. Father expected a son to carry on the warrior name, and when I was born he nearly lost his faith in the Sorcerer Richard, who had prophesied of my coming years before I was even born. But when he first spied my little bundle, his best knight, Sir Lucien, explained that there was more than one way to save a kingdom. And when the King held me for the first time he could only agree."
The dragon had no response to such heartfelt honestly and so remained entirely silent. But Viola neither noticed nor recognized the uncertainty of his quiet, finishing the tale by saying, "I became the apple of his eye, and mother doted on me as much as I would allow. And after that Father became a kinder King. Lowering taxes, aiding those in need. Crusades and adventures came less often, much to my mother's joy, and he came to love the town and the people he served. Once the King became a father his heart softened, and he learned to love all children in both the country and town."
"He even created a school for young Knights in training, and those wishing to Squire out to Lords."
Unexpectedly, her traveling companion recoiled.
"Dragon!" she shouted frantically as her formerly luxurious position became a whirlwind of rage and uncertainty.
Realizing he had just put his rider in danger, the creature snarled something, then coughed and seemingly spat to the side in disgust. Only when he had finally settled in the air again she dared to ask if he was all right.
'I'm fine. 's nothing.'
"Are you sure? Because if you're hurting from that rainstorm we can always--."
'I SAID I WAS FINE!' the roar sounded like a lion to her unprotected ears, and Viola spent the next several minutes trying to hide her shaking from him. But evidently he noticed, because the next time he 'spoke' it was much softer and more controlled, but only just barely in check, 'so if your pa loved you, why were you ridiculed? You'd think he would protect his daughter or something from humiliation like that.'
"Well…I didn't tell him," she felt uncomfortable saying the words out loud, the combination of pride and cowardice that she'd felt verbalized for the first time in her life, "I didn't wanted to be pitied or treated any differently than anyone else, so I acted normal around the King as much as I could…"
'So you do have some pride after all.'
"Enough to go before the fall. It got worse when the village girls found out about my Naming Poem," she mumbled out the information almost reflectively, so that her companion at first wasn't sure she'd said anything. But when he queried for more information she blinked once, straightened, and turned to clarify.
"Every member of royalty has a Naming Poem--it's been that way since the country first was founded by my ancestors. When Lord Farid saved the land from tyrants overtaking it, it was revealed that his coming had been prophesied long before it happened. Sorceress Gheyssel, who later became his Queen," she paused to note, remembering her history accurately, "revealed that in the magic circuit a series of predictions had been made regards unspecified events and people. In most cases those involved didn't even know it was about them until after the fact. Since then, however, a strange phenomenon has occurred in that the resident magic user receives a revelation for almost every generation of royals. Additionally, what with the introduction magic into the royal line, in most cases at least one magic user will crop up in every generation."
'Like you?'
"Like me."
One massive eye ridge arched thoughtfully, before he voiced something else that had been niggling at the back of his skull, 'so those with magic become resident sorcerers. You, in the royal family, are replacing this 'Rick' guy. What does that make him?'
"Sorcerer Richard of the House of Dicker," Viola corrected archly, "he's not a royal, but is a wanderer who traveled for many years, aiding those under corrupt rule and teaching those with magic powers. When he reached our kingdom it was during my father's time, when he was already stooped with age and experience. He had intended to stay for only a short period, but ailment kept him through the winter and afterwards he declared that his stay was permanent. He has been aiding my father for years, and is a trusted advisor. And my revered teacher."
So mock him one more time and you'll be losing a wingspar, the silence between them seemed to say. Breathing heavily through his nose, the 'Dragon' resisted the urge to roll his eyes and shake his head. Knowing, without a doubt, that a movement like that would possibly have a negative outcome for the shoulder-perching Princess. But wry thought paused mid-journey as a flash of memory shot through his consciousness, startling him enough that he almost forgot to fly.
'Wait. This Sorcerer…he didn't happen to be stoop-shouldered, with grey robes and eyes and hair? Who looked like an old dog with a wide nose? Never really smiles, except with his eyes?'
"Yes, actually. But how could you have known him? That would mean you would have had to be…" both left the thought unfinished, the young woman's eyes drawing wide as her mouth fell, slack-jawed, "just…how old were you when you were…changed?"
'I can't remember. It's been a long time, and soon enough the years blur into one another. Every season looks much like the one that came the year before, anyway.'
They both fell silent, lost in thought. Time passed by like this for what seemed like hours, but could have very well been mere minutes to the Sorceress-in-training. Then, feelings tumbling over one another with a sudden influx of emotional information, Viola felt the desire to act.
Pulling herself tighter against his form and persistently tugging her glove off, the sorceress in training wriggled a slim hand beneath one platter-sized scale, and to the skin underneath. Once there she ran the very tips along his inner skin, feeling his pulse flutter to the rhythm of wing beats, something she'd wanted to do since they'd met at the waterfall, the light glimmering through the drops of liquid that had run down his scaled form. Then, closing her eyes for a half a moment, she wondered what it would be like to touch a man's hand.
As both a Princess and a Sorceress-in-training she'd been sequestered from others, and particularly those of the opposite gender. First as they'd made fun of her, then later as she became dedicated to the magic arts, working to take their aging magic-user's place. The closest she'd ever come to having a suitor was in the form of Sir Anthony, but when he'd fallen for one of her former Ladies in Waiting, Karina, she'd given up on even interacting with a man. Until now.
Not that 'her beast' was the best example of the species.
Her brief flashback was cut short as the foundation shook beneath her, the dragon abruptly doing a halt mid-air. In the process he almost threw her from her perch, and nearly loosened the carryall she'd attached to one of his crimson spires as well.
'What in spells was that?!'
Her hand retracted faster than a turtle to its shell, "forgive me! I was just curious--please don't be angry with me!"
'What did you--how in the worl--what?!' he seemed to clear his mental throat as the blue eyes previously trained on their path whirled around to face her, a boxy jaw and solid fangs coming around on winding neck to face her completely. Violet swallowed hard as she was abruptly forced to explain.
"I just…wondered how it would be…"
'…' the dragon wordlessly expressed his confusion, waiting for an actual response.
"…to feel what you were like. Your scales always get in the way and I thought that if I tried the muscle underneath that I might be able to…" her words petered off, thought filtering in.
To what? To somehow show that she cared? her subconscious sneered. She was averse to physical touch of any kind as it was, so what made him different? Was it the fact that he was a creature rather than a person, maybe, or could it be that she was the one making the first gestures of friendship?
Whatever it was, she felt a certain measure of kinship for the transformed man. Although under examination she couldn't determine what it amounted to.
It was more than friendship, and more than affection. It was the knowledge that there was one person in existence who understood her entirely, even if that one person was nothing like her. Gender, age, or species. It was a kind of warmth that began in her ribcage and flowed outward, like liquid sunshine pumping through her veins. A blanket of heat surrounding her heart, so prevalent and so beautiful that it practically hurt.
But how could something that hurt also be so wonderful? It was a contradiction, and she'd been taught to keep an eye out for contradictions, both in life and in texts. But somehow it still existed.
Maybe the lesson her Master had taught her about accepting what was unchangeable hadn't been about life or death, or even fate? But of feelings and emotions over those intellectual 'must-be's' that had dominated her life.
Because what wasn't making sense in her head, this sentiment washing over her, was clicking into place somewhere to the left of her breastbone. Somewhere deep and pounding. As though the love she felt for her parents and brothers was compounded and changed somehow, morphing by magic into another form, just as he had been changed.
It was growing into something different…like a strange, faceted jewel-love. Where she cherished her cantankerous companion for his sharp edges, rather than trying to smooth them over.
His words interrupted her self-aimed confusion.
'Okay…I'll let you do it, then. Just…'
"I'll be careful," she promised with child-like innocence. And how could she have known that at that moment the dragon's heart softened?
Several minutes passed by as she rested her hand against the slightly dry, ever-so-soft skin just below the surface, his heart beat rising and falling in an almost-purr of reverberating sound that shook her very body. The dragon said nothing, merely flying continually into the darkness, but every now and again she would see the glint of moonlight bounce off his lightning-blue eyes as he looked back at her. Confusion and fear and hope warring for control.
And then it clicked.
"You haven't felt human touch for years, have you?" the epiphany came out in a whisper of realization, but had the effect of a lightning strike.
And he hadn't, she knew, his serpentine form freezing like the crystal statue in her mother's lounge. The man-beast said nothing, but she already had her answer, and as the mathematical formula of truth added up behind her eyes Viola made a second realization.
He should be insane. Viola knew this from having studied cases of self-seclusion in her magic books, but all he'd come out with was a bad attitude and case of sarcasm a town wide. But somehow even that became a blessing in her eyes. It redeemed his soul, somehow giving him a chance amid the chaos of their situation.
A chance.
A chance to become a man again.
But maybe there was something there; an element that she'd missed that could possibly change everything? Perhaps there was something about him that made him different; something that had helped him cope with being trapped within his own mind.
Training took over as years of tome studying came to mind, the Princess desperately attempting to remember what she had learned of dragons. The darkness didn't help, either, in that she couldn't quite get a good visual of his form, but imagination and memory from times of daylight filled in the blanks as she made a mental tally.
Meanwhile his shoulders had hunched directly beneath her perch, and she had to do a quick save or end up with a long drop, 'well…it's not like I was at a loss for company. It just happened to be my luck, however, that all of them were out to kill me. By your father's dictates.'
"My father's dictates? What do you mea--," she slowly said, brow furrowed in her distraction. Abruptly it cleared, "Oh. So you're the one that's been eating all of our flocks over the years. Then he put a bounty on you, and that's why you hate my father."
The breadth of his back tightened further, but his tone adversely became muted, 'some…something like that.'
One thinly sculpted eyebrow rose at his hesitant 'vocal' tone, but she let it go for the moment, "well, I believe I may have actually solved that problem for you."
'What, me having volatile house guests?'
"That and, well…I might be wrong, but," she hesitated, then forged on bravely, "I was just thinking about my studies and I realized that you are probably an Omni-Dragon of the Blue Dragon Type, what with your mottled skin and ridged spine. Otherwise known as Draco Electricus, which tend to be Lawful Evil in nature but in your case runs along the same lines as what you were like before the spell was cast."
'So? What does that have to do with anything?'
She paused for breath but it wasn't nearly long enough as he was overloaded with information. Just milliseconds later she continued, "This also makes you resistant to certain types of magic, since essentially you are made of magic, which explains why you haven't gone completely insane with the transformation. It also explains your odd shadow, which reveals your true nature," she pointed at the tiny speck below them. He blinked, and she continued, "And from what I recall, your dragon type can actually speak and create spells. So I think it's possible for you to release yourself from your own spell, provided you learn how to verbally speak as a dragon."
'What.'
"You might be able to release yourself. With my help, that is," she added hastily.
The information, however, was apparently too much for the transformed being, and he turned to perch on nearby cliff for a moment, 'face' coming around to look her straight on. And in those seconds she reveled in how human his lightning-blue eyes looked as he searched her features for truth.
'You're serious?'
"Yes," the girl nodded, slow smile developing on her lips as she swept away the forelock that always seemed to fall in front of her face.
'I can release myself. And I could have released myself all this time, if I had only known.'
"Hypothetically. But only with a magic user's help, probably."
'And you just happen to be a conveniently present magic user,' he murmured in quiet echo, and her smile softened even further. Until, 'which means we don't actually have to defeat Xerex then, I'd wager?'
Her smile dropped, "what?"
A bark of laughter, human in its entirety, caught her unawares, 'no, I gave my word, Princess. And for good or evil I keep the promises I make. But instead let's make this one an even bargain--I help you, you help me. Promise?'
"I pr--."
'Don't say it unless you mean it,' he interrupted, and for a moment she was chilled by the steel in his tone as enormous jaws clenched. Meeting his look with a fierce one of her own, Viola utilized years of breeding to regally follow.
"I promise, on my magic and my honor, that after having received your help in saving my family and my people, I will release you from your curse. Even if I spend my entire life trying to reverse it, you will be free. On my honor--a Princess never breaks her vow."
The tenseness he'd built up beneath her perched form abruptly disappeared, and she had to hold on tighter to keep from being dislodged. But it was worth it to see the 'expression' on his ferocious face, the intelligent gentleness of his eyes balancing out any and all fear.
'And here I thought you didn't like being a Princess.'
"I don't. But a woman's got to do what a woman's got to do."
'More like a girl.'
"We're not starting that again, do you hear me?"
'Right, right…'
And so they continued their flight. And as they did so the thought of her Naming Poem became suddenly much clearer.
"When blood moon rise,
The seat shall fall.
Another Kind shall answer call.
Which once was man,
But not at all,
Came at hand to answer maid.
Her hand was fair,
And will be so.
He follows 'ere she asks to go.
And 'gainst the rain,
The fear, the foe,
The seat they shall again regain."
It was a lyrical little ditty, full of half-truths and repetition. Unknown to the Princess, however, there existed another verse. Torn out by the Sorcerer 'Rick,' himself. For he had known if the King had gotten word of it he would have never have let her go. But it was their only hope, as was the redheaded youth he had shown it to just before the boy was taken. Together they would save the kingdom and each other.
They just didn't know it yet.
And so somewhere dark and dank, in a prison cell within Xerex's dark tower, Richard of Dicker hummed a little poem to himself, altered by spiteful children to fit an obscene drinking song. But instead he thought of the merit of those it spoke of.
"He takes her 'pon,
The clouded sky.
Her soul on wings,
To fly or die.
And if she wants,
To see the king.
Spell must break,
And bells must ring."
"What's your name, Dragon? You've never actually told me," the young woman asked somewhere far away. And in that same dark sky he answered.
'I…can't remember it,' and then the transformed man practiced his version of awkward shuffling; a shift in wing movement that jarred ever-so slightly. The dragon seemed to pull the move every time she asked him about his past, 'Just call me…'Friend.'
"Friend," she tasted the word on her lips, and while it felt right it somehow didn't flow. Friend, companion, comrade, ally; none of them seemed to work. But, just on the tip of her tongue, a single word flew off, "…Buddy. How about Buddy?"
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AN: Yep, Dash's name stay the same. Violet becomes Viola because I love Twelfth Night. Gheyssel is pronounced "Hazel," and is actually my friend's name, from church. And I just like the name 'Farid.' –smiles-
Everyone feels rather out of character, but Buddy the most of all. Then again, I am writing a fantasy one-shot from the perspective of him having been a Dragon for years and Violet being three years older than she is in the series. All in all, I like this one-shot to a certain extent. It's good, story-wise, and there are a lot of in-jokes, but it doesn't quite feel like "Synlet." There needs to be more arguing. XD Still, I like it for the most part.
"Naming Poems" are inspired by "Patriarchal Blessings." The Naming Poem itself was written by me on a whim. And let me assure you that while it seems rather pretty in content, its total crap when it comes to actual poetry requirements. My AP English Teacher is probably scowling at me in disapproval. Yeesh. ^^;