Dude like I've had 95% of this done for at least the past week, but I couldn't get through one freaking conversation! Like, I sat there and wrote it and rewrote it and tried to cut it at one point but it came back to haunt me... Like, come on! I FINALLY finished that conversation, and the rest was a breeze!

So, here's the yup yup stuff. It STARTED from the prompt of a burning pudding for an anniversary, and I was so tempted at first to leave it at the end of the first part, but it was only like 300 words long so I went on and added angst... more angst... It's 5:30 in the morning so I am just rambling when I want to sleep but yeah, stuff happens. It's me. What did you expect?

Let's Go On An Adventure


The acrid smell of smoke wafted through the air and into his nose, forcing his nostrils to curl at the stench. He coughed and used his hand to wave the smoke away, but his eyes stung and watered because there was so much smoke, so much of it…

"Grayson? What's going on in there?" her voice, so soft and lively, sounded behind him. Grayson turned, holding the collar of his shirt over his mouth so that he could breathe, and he looked at his wife sheepishly while smoke rose around them. Before he answered, he went to open the windows to let some of the smoke out of the room.

"I, um, burned the cookies." Grayson bowed his head with shame, and he tried to not feel guilty for the sake of his beloved treat now reduced to charred crisps sitting on a burning hot pan. He put out the fire that heated the wood-burning stove, and as the air cleared, he uncovered his mouth. His face was pink from the embarrassment and from smoke inhalation.

Kathryn looked at him patiently from the doorway, and she kept a hand over the baby bump that was starting to show. Grayson was one of the luckiest men alive to have such a wonderful wife and pretty soon a fine son or a beautiful daughter that he could raise here in the heart of the Empire. One year ago, Grayson wouldn't have thought that happiness would have been possible for him, and now it was within his grasp. He could just feel it…

"What do you mean that you burned the cookies?" she accused him warmly, and her eyes (light blue, clear, flawless perfection) were on the blackened rocks that were cooling down on the counter. "What cookies?"

Grayson dared not touch the tray of "cookies" lest he burn his own hand, but he wanted to rid the world of the offending objects because they were certainly not cookies and were not fit for human consumption. "Um, the cookies I decided to make for you for our anniversary?" Grayson defended, and he gave her his best doey-eyed pitiful smile that begged for forgiveness on its own.

The look seemed to work because she walked over to him and pecked his cheek. "Only you, Grayson," Kathryn said with a soft smile.


Smolders shot up from the flames of the campfire and remained alight for just a few seconds before disappearing into the night. Grayson was shivering under his cloak, but not from the cold, though the night was cool. In only a few split seconds, he knew that his life was changed forever. He kept the artifact hidden from sight, but he could feel its damning weight.

He had taken it, the Emerald City's most prized possession.

He warmed himself by the fire and did his best to compose himself. Emperor Ferox wouldn't suspect him, surely. Grayson was still the commander of the armies of the West, and any number of men or women could have taken the egg (that's what he told himself anyway).

Trust no one. There were only two people Grayson planned on telling about the dragon's egg. Obviously, he couldn't keep this from his wife. She had a way of reading him that no one else could, and she would know that something was up the moment he stepped into the threshold of their home. He would also tell Luke, his best friend in this place. Grayson would trust him with his life, and, if Grayson were to die, it would mean that there was someone who could carry on protecting the dragon's egg so that the Empire didn't get its hands on it again.

The crackling fire cast shadows around his face, and he drew the cloak closer to him, willing himself to get some sleep. In the morning, Grayson thought. In the morning I will deal with this.

Grayson watched the friendly reds and oranges and yellows, and, as he slowly drifted off into a restless sleep, he was reminded of a dragon's breath.


The fires burned so hot on his home that surely everything was to be destroyed. Grayson watched helplessly from afar, but the smoke was so thick that he could not tell if his family was in there. Oh god, he hoped that they weren't. A cold dread so opposite of the vengeful flames filled his heart, and he almost ran to the burning ruins in desperation to find them. What kind of father couldn't protect his son? What kind of husband couldn't protect his wife? What kind of man couldn't protect his family?

He was basically carrying nothing, just his money and the dragon's egg, which was proving to be more trouble than what it was worth. Grayson knew that it was worth far more than most people could even begin to imagine, but even so, he was starting to wish that he hadn't taken it, that he had left things alone. He had a life here, in the Empire. It wasn't like he would lose anything if the emperor were to use it like how he thought.

The roar of the fire was deafening to him, but the angered yells of those who were burning his home were even louder. Grayson's eyes watered before he really understood why, and he pushed back thoughts about the dragon's egg as he forced himself to look away from the fires consuming his home.

No, there's still time, Grayson told himself, and his heart clenched with desperation as he walked away from his home, from the life he had managed to make for himself in this brand new world. I can save them. I can find them. I have to. However, the farther away he seemed to walk, the louder the flames seemed to get, and soon, the same fires would consume Grayson's heart and fuel him for years to come.


The flames danced cheerfully in front of him, seemingly unaware of the echoes overtaking his mind. They just kept screaming and screaming and screaming, and he was powerless to help. The fires would consume everything in its path, and deep down, he was ready to let it take him too. He stared into the fire, unable to look away from the shadows of his past as they leapt from the flames and taunted him about everything he had lost.

"Grayson?" A voice sounded through the screams, the friendliest voice and the friendliest face he had seen in two years. But no, it was a lie, it had to be a lie because he couldn't trust anyone. The last person he had trusted had gotten his family killed. Now that Grayson had nothing more to lose, he didn't care if he put his trust into the wrong person, but he didn't reach out for Drake. He stared into the flames that were rising higher and higher as more wood was fed to it.

They kept screaming over and over again. It was deafening, so why couldn't Drake hear it? As lost as he was in his memories and his guilt, it registered to Grayson that he wasn't alone here, that he had a friend beside him. However, having a friend with him wouldn't mean anything if he ended up dying because of him. Grayson ignored the pleas for him to look at Drake, to turn away from the flames and from his past. The flames raged on, and the memories would bother him anyway.


Grayson coughed out his lungs through the smell of dust and smoke. The white-hot sting of snow clawed at his face, but years of living in an arctic wasteland made him almost immune to its effects. He could grit his teeth and bear the cold if he must, but it was for his friends that he was most concerned for.

"Drake? Mia?" Grayson called out their names desperately, the burning cold already reaching his heart. He scrambled to free himself from the burning wreckage of the airship, and once he was topside, all he could see on the horizon was snow. The area was alight by all of the flickering orange flames, which stood out against the pale whites, blues, and greys of the barren landscape.

"Grayson! Over here!" That was Mia's voice, and he was able to see a figure waving wildly through the snow. It felt like it took much longer than it should to have reached her, but Grayson was panicking on the inside and trying to find Drake. Where are you, man?

There was no sign of their taller friend, and Grayson spun his head in circles looking for some daned miracle. "Where's Drake?" he yelled over the deafening roar of the snow. Mia was worse for the wear herself with singed clothing and some blood from the crash, but Grayson could tend to her later. He needed to find Drake.

"I think…" the elf was looking over at a large piece of smoldering wreckage in shocked horror. "I think he saved us…" There had been… something that protected Grayson during the crash. While his body hurt like hell, he was alive and relatively unharmed. A feeling of uneasiness overcame him, and something drew him over to the mangled mess of burning wood despite Mia's calls for him to stand back.

Grayson's eyes watered from the song of ice and fire that danced in front of his face. There! He could see him! Grayson's mind screamed at him to get away from the burning wreckage, and those screams were backed up by more screams: the screams of townspeople, enemy soldiers, and his family, all of those he could still remember from that fateful night. His eardrums pounded with his heart, and Grayson made to cover his ears before he remembered what he was here for.

With the strength of ten men, he managed to pull the large piece of wood that was pinning Drake down so that he could free his friend. Flames licked at his fingers, but he did not find it within himself to care as he gathered Drake into his arms and pulled him from the burning flames to safety.


Mia had bandaged his hands and lower arms, but Grayson had insisted that she tend to Drake first. He hadn't woken up since the crash, and Grayson refused to leave his side once. All of his potions had been destroyed in the crash, and he tried to use what was left of their supplies to fashion a shelter against the blizzard. There was nothing to build a fire with. To be honest, Grayson wasn't sure he wanted to.

He lifted his hand from Drake's forehead with a little frown. He was burning up with a fever from the loss of mana when he protected them from the explosion, and Grayson didn't know if he would ever wake up. He wasn't going to cry. He refused to cry, but those salty tears still tried to fill his eyes and he had to blink them away before Mia saw. He knew that she probably did see, but she didn't comment on them.

"Is he going to be alright?" Mia asked him softly from her perch closeby. She had turned most of their blankets into bandages, but Grayson had forced her to keep one for himself. He wasn't that cold, and he didn't want to make Drake overheat.

He reached down again towards Drake's face, brushing aside a lock of messy hair. His hand lingered on his forehead despite the burning heat resonating from the skin. Grayson's eyes watered once again, and this time, a few slipped past his defenses and rolled down his cheeks landing onto Drake's overheating ones.

"He has to be," Grayson answered, both for himself and for Mia. No, Drake had to wake up. Grayson didn't know what he would do if he didn't. Come on, Drake. Don't do this to me. I can't lose you, too.

It seemed as though his luck was finally turning around. Drake stirred under his touch, and Grayson nearly choked when he exhaled in relief.


"Does it… hurt?" Grayson eyed the small flame flickering in Drake's hands distrustfully. The only thing that fire brought was destruction, and after seeing Drake use the fire magic on the mercenaries that attacked them earlier, he was reminded of that fact. Through the winter Grayson had built fires, and every night was spent remembering the destruction, the death… He shook his head, forcing himself to pay attention to Drake.

Drake shook his head and let the little fire in his hand die. "No, it doesn't hurt unless I lose control of it."

Grayson frowned to himself, but with the fire gone, he was able to relax. "And have you?" he asked his friend, trying not to imagine him burning alive because he had been using too much fire magic.

"Have I what?" Drake was giving him a strange look. Sometimes Grayson wondered if Drake was able to guess anything about his past, though he never asked about Grayson's family unless prompted to.

"Lost control." Grayson had always harbored some concern over Drake's well being, and it had only grown after they started traveling together again. After they had been forced to separate, Grayson had to stop himself from going after his friends in case he brought danger with them. In this case, Drake had been the one to seek him out first. Deep down, Grayson felt better knowing that he didn't have to travel alone.

Drake's answer was reluctantly given, but he pushed through whatever was holding him back. "Only a few times. After Armen…" Grayson understood without Drake needing to finish, and his eyes turned sad as he nodded. His eyes lingered to the faint scars showing from under Drake's clothes, the marks of uncontrollable flames that Grayson had only barely saved him from. Burning. Burning. Death. He clenched his fists to ground himself here with Drake.

It hadn't been the first time that Grayson had lost someone to the flames. He still remembered Armen's fall into the lava as clear as day, and he remembered how close he had gotten to losing Drake. He could lose him again if he wasn't careful, but Grayson knew that he would be careful. Drake wouldn't do anything stupid with the magic he had been given. He just had to trust him, to trust in him.

"Just be careful, all right?" Grayson urged gently, like a father would a child, a friend to his friend, a man to the one he loved.

Drake smiled faintly at him. "I promise."


Everything was ablaze. Grayson's eyes watered from the heat, and he coughed and waved his hand before his face to direct the smoke away from his eyes, nose, and mouth. Someone (Drake) was pulling him back, and once the smoke cleared, the innocent baby dragon was looking up at them like he and Drake were its parents.

"Aw, look at it!" Mia gushed, and she was running forward to join them in marveling at the dragon. The last of the dragons.

Grayson could still smell the smoke. Tiny fires were still burning around them, but right now he was smiling. He had his friends. He had his dragon. He gave Drake's hand a small squeeze as the dragon hiccuped and shot a tiny spurt of fire from its mouth that quickly incinerated a helpless twig.

They were okay.


Originally it was gonna come full circle with Drake trying to bake cookies to cheer Grayson up, but at the last minute I just wanted a cute family moment instead with a tiny baby dragon because that's fire. Fire was heavily used in this, I know, but that's the point. I took the title from one of my drabble series on the Merlin side of my writing and utilized it where I could here. The conversation that I had trouble with was the Grayson and Drake one with Drake's fire magic... another originally for that was Drake injured himself and Grayson is treating the wound, but I couldn't get the words to work so I did The Magic Library loose AU (where like they are more injured from the crash but you know the thing still ends the same)...

See, I'm rambling. I just need to sleep!

~Lya200~