TITLE: The Blood of Dragons 1 / ?
AUTHOR: Hana-chan gohana_chan@hotmail.com
CATEGORY: AU, fantasy, angst, yaoi, occasional lemon
PAIRINGS: Eventual 1x2, 3x4, 6x5
RATINGS: Varies. PG-13 for this chapter.
WARNINGS: Some violence.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Gundam Wing, or any of the characters from that show. This is for fun, not profit so don't sue me. Any characters that are not from Gundam Wing belong to me.
FEEDBACK: PLEASE! Any and all comments are welcome - I won't get tired of reading them, honest. It helps me to finish my fics if you tell me what you think.

~emphasis~ :: telepathy :: +++ scene change

The Blood of Dragons
Chapter 1

Commander Zechs Merquise of the Osarian light cavalry stood beside his mount in the underbrush of the mountain forest, predawn light staining his armor red and black. His unit stirred restlessly behind him, the chink and scrape of metal sounding softly as both men and horses shifted position in the chill morning air. Sighing imperceptibly, Zechs wondered why exactly they were here. Both he and his men knew the orders - to secure a stolen shipment of Crystals using whatever force necessary to subdue the Raiders responsible. The orders themselves didn't bother the young commander, he'd taken out Raiders before; what concerned him was the fact that they'd had to come through the Pass of Morning and onto the Eastern side of the Dragonback Mountains to do so. They were now not only in Chiinaran Territory, but in Dragon country as well, and neither group took kindly to strangers - especially armed ones.

He was uncomfortable with the entire situation, but unfortunately Shehrevar was here as head mage, so they had little choice but to follow without question. While he himself didn't particularly care much for mages, Shehrevar was not one to cross - especially as he was supported by Aldric the High Wizard of Roma. People might be willing to disregard the word of a mage, but no sane person disregarded the word of a wizard. This fact insured that if Aldric wanted these Crystals, despite being in Chiinaran territory, despite being in Dragon country, he would he get them with no argument from Zechs. Protesting technicalities such as jurisdiction was not worth the risk of coming to either Shehrevar's or Aldric's unwelcome attention.

Platinum brows drawn together in thought, the commander glanced back down the road, eyes pausing on the unmounted group that waited a bit further up the mountain. The leader had mid-length blond hair, and wore dragon-scale armor, easily identified by the tell-tale blueish-purple hue. From the edge of his sword belt hung over forty talon tips, each about three inches long, a trophy from each of his kills. In his hand was a six-foot spear topped with a large, vicious blade with serrated barbs arching away from the point. Zechs suppressed a shudder as he looked at the weapon. It had been created with one purpose in mind - killing dragons. The blade was designed to penetrate scales and skin, the barbs ensuring that it either lodged within the beast or did massive damage when pulled out. Needless to say, a dragon with a few of those in it didn't survive long.

The blond man turned towards his men for a moment, and Zechs spied the crossbow strapped across his back. Again he was forced not to react to the Slayer's weapon. The bolts for that type of bow were just as cruel as the spear, and almost as deadly. Zechs personally hated the weapons of the Slayers as much or more than the Slayers themselves, but on a mission into Dragon territory, he had no choice but to accept them, especially when they were there at Shehrevar's request.

Still regarding the Slayer captain, Zechs was caught off guard as the man turned back and held his gaze. Cold blue eyes bore into his and the commander forced himself to nod politely before turning to look back down the road. He noticed that his men were impatient to start, as, he admitted, was he. The sooner they took out the raiders, the sooner they'd be back in Osarian territory.

The signal came, and Zechs led his unit forward into the raider camp.
+++

High on a mountain ledge, the dragon watched in appreciation as the dawn light slowly bled into the fading indigo of the sky. His jade scales flashed redly, the light breeze stirring the rust colored hair of his mane, legs and tail. He stretched, serpentine body arching gracefully, wings fully extended, before settling into a more comfortable position on the outcropping.

:: How are the little ones, love? :: he called out telepathically. The mental growl that followed caused his orange-red eyes to light up with suppressed mirth. :: What, not enjoying your stint in the hatchery? ::

The mental grumble turned into a string of good-natured curses. :: Why can't they hatch as yearlings? :: complained the slightly higher mental voice. :: Our Yuming is finally getting to a manageable age. Teaching them to fight or fly I can handle, watching them hatch, and feeding them. . . Others are better suited to it than me. ::

:: Like me, you mean, :: he replied with a draconic smirk.

:: No, not like you, :: was her tart reply. :: You may be my mate, but you are on much better terms with the Memory Crystals than you are with the hatchlings. ::

The dragon laughed with his mate. :: I know, but it is our turn to watch the hatchery, while the others take a much needed rest in the village. ::

:: I know, I know - I'm just griping. :: she said. :: I look forward to the day we can take Yuming home to stay. He's almost got the change down pat you know, :: was her proud declaration. :: All he needs to master is the hair and eye color - he features look just like yours when changed. ::

The male dragon's chest puffed out with pride. :: And only a year old. He's going to be a very powerful fellow. Last night he Crystalized a shard. It was so small that it would barely contain a minor spell, but . . . ::

:: Just don't forget about his battle training, :: she threatened.

:: I managed both, and so shall he, :: assured the male. :: He has us for parents after all. ::

:: Well, I'm sure that the sun has risen by now, so why don't you come back here so I can stretch my wings? ::

The male dragon grinned and launched himself into the air. He felt the thermals caresses his body, lifting him high above the forest before allowing him to dip again and skim the tops of the evergreens. The beauty of the dawn and the land around made him grateful that their territory lay on the edges of the Chiinaran lands rather than to the west where he heard that his draconic cousins had been hunted nearly to extinction. He never truly understood humans with their hateful ways, though he had walked among them in human guise on occasion. Their tendency to make life much more complicated than necessary with their politics and their wars, as well as their capacity to hate boggled the mind.

Looking down the mountainside, he tried to spot the village. He could see the smoke from their chimneys spiraling into the red dawn. His kind had long ago found that the way to keep from the notice of humans was to masquerade as them and live in villages somewhat removed from the hatchery and lairs. Hiding in plain sight had saved many a life in his clan.

The wind shifted slightly, and the dragon caught the altered scent. The sweet scent of wood smoke was altering to a more pungent smell. Eyes widening, he saw the plumes blacken ominously.

:: INVADERS! :: The mental shout slammed into the dragon's mind. :: Protect the hatchery at all costs! ::

The enraged roar of his mate snapped the dragon's head away from the village and toward the cave-like entrance to the hatchery. Folding his wings, he dove, pulling up sharply to land before her.

:: Watch the hatchery, :: she demanded.

:: You can't go, :: he countered her, trying to stay calm as he heard the frightened cries of his people.

:: I'm not a coward, :: she exclaimed. :: I'm not going to let those bastards slaughter our people.::

:: The young are our responsibility, our priority, :: he shouted back.

:: You guard them then. I'm not going to sit here and let everyone die. ::

:: The elder ordered us here. ::

:: The elder will be dead if we don't help. :: With that declaration she launched herself into the sky, arrowing towards the black smudge above the trees that marked the location of the village.

:: Curses, :: he shouted to himself, divided as to his responsibilities. He had to protect the hatchery, yet he should be by his mate's side as well.

:: Why do you linger, young one? :: asked an old dragon emerging from the entrance.

:: I must protect the young ones, :: replied the other, still looking in the direction of his mate.

:: You're place is with your mate, :: he corrected. :: If she dies, you will too. My child is headstrong - she needs you with her. I will guard the hatchery. ::

Hesitating only a moment, the younger dragon nodded briefly and leapt into the air to follow his mate.

+++

Zechs felt ill.

It was no Raider camp that they were invading but a Dragon Clan village. The humans who believed that it was better to live in peace with dragons than to war with them were few and far between, and his unit was slaughtering them.

Shehrevar the bastard had known. The Slayers had been brought not on the off chance that they might encounter a dragon, but on the sure fact that they would. And now his men were slaughtering everyone and they dare not stop because the mage would execute any who disobeyed him, and the villagers would die regardless. The commander found himself mentally cursing all mages and wizards alike for sending him and his men on such a dishonorable, despicable mission as this.

Knowing that he himself had to continue fighting, or forfeit the lives of his unit, Zechs sought out the warriors of the village - he refused to kill the defenseless. The village warriors weren't unskilled, but they were no match for Zechs and his men.

An enraged shriek echoed through the valley and Zechs' eyes shot upwards, encountering a sight he hadn't expected to see again. The dragon looked majestic in her rage, battle cry trumpeting again into the dawn. He didn't know how he knew it was a female, he just did, and he found himself briefly recalling his experience eight years ago when, at sixteen, he'd witnessed two dragons like this one during their mating flight. It was an image he had carried with him to this day, and it was on of the reasons he hated the Slayers and anyone who spoke against dragons. Watching her in the red dawn light, he wished that he too could be flying up above and raining firey retribution down on those who dared harm his friends.

A second challenging shriek reverberated through the valley, and Zechs spotted a second dragon. he thought, vaguely recalling that dragons mated for life. The two dragons were killing his men, flaming breath roasting them in their armor, killing their horses. He found, however, that he could do nothing himself but watch in a sick fascination, sword hanging limply in his hand.

There was another enraged cry and Zechs watched as the male dragon flew back up the valley a ways. Having the two separate bothered the blond man for some reason he couldn't understand. He struggled to snap himself out of his seeming trance - he had a responsibility to his men who were dying while he did nothing but watch the dragons in the sky.

A glint of metal in one of the trees caught his eye, and he watched in horror as a Slayer raised his crossbow. "No," he whispered, unable to voice his protest any other way. He imagined he could hear the thunk of the heavy bowstring moments before he saw the heavy bolt fly through the air. Zechs flinched as the arrow imbedded itself in her chest. The roar this time was one of pain. Then her flames set the tree on fire.

There was another glint, and another arrow, and Zechs flinched as a second and third arrow found their target. The blond man dropped to his knees, watching helplessly as she floundered, trying to stay aloft enough to fight.

A desperate cry filled the air, bringing tears to Zechs' eyes as he saw the male dragon trying to get back to his mate. Both saw her falter and crash into the forest below.

A shriek filled with such despair that it struck the blond warrior to the core. He saw the remaining dragon rear back and crash through the forest canopy moments before he himself succumbed to the blackness of unconsciousness.

+++

Shehrevar nodded in satisfaction as the last dragon egg was loaded into the covered wagon. Once they were secured he turned to the hatchlings and human-looking children who remained in the hatchery. They ranged in age from newly hatched to a year or two old. The only ones he was interested in on this trip however were the ones who could take human form. If he could have taken the younger ones with him, he would have - they made excellent servants when they were trained to see him as their parent and elder. This trip, however was a long one, and he didn't have time to waste trying to feed and conceal young dragons.

"Alex," he called out.

The blond leader of the Slayers turned and walked towards him. "Yes, my Lord?" he asked with a bow.

"The children in the village, are there any who will be of use to us?"

"No, my lord," he replied. "They are too old to be influenced easily and would likely rebel at the first opportunity."

"Mores the pity," responded the mage. "We'll take only these three then. Have your men eliminate the rest."

Blue eyes lit with a dark fire as he grinned at the request.

"Quickly," the mage reprimanded with a frown. "There isn't time for you and your men to play with them. We must make it into the mountains before the Chiinarans decide to investigate."

Pulling a palm-sized iridescent Crystal from the pouch at his waist, the mage concentrated his energy into it. "Sleep, sleep, sleep," he repeated, casting the sleeping spell on the three human-looking dragons who huddled before him. One by one their eyes closed and they slumped to the floor. He placed the dull Crystal back into the pouch. He would recharge it when they returned to Roma.

He gestured to two of the Slayers who picked up the children. "Eliminate the rest," he commented, before walking out of the hatchery. They passed the corpse of the older dragon which was being looted for it's salable parts. He never was one to believe in waste, and it was a cheap way to pay the Slayers.

The second in command of the Slayers approached Shehrevar and bowed before him. "We haven't been able to find the third dragon, my Lord," he said politely.

Thinking about it for a moment, the mage shook his head. "Ignore it. The two dragons were mated. It will not have survived. I have what I came for. We're leaving."

Nodding, the man moved to the side to allow the mage and the following Slayers past where they carefully placed the children in the back of the wagon with the eggs. The mage climbed into his private carriage and the two vehicles began the trip back down the valley towards the remains of the village. As they neared, the stench of burning flesh became overwhelming, making the mage smile in amusement.

Alex approached his carriage respectfully. "My Lord," he said with a bow. "What of Leiutenant Merquise?"

"What of him?"

"He collapsed during the battle after most of his men were killed by the dragon. What should be done with him?"

"Leave him to his men," was the decision. "I can't afford to kill him yet - he may still be useful. Just make sure he stays away from the wagon with the eggs and dragon children."

Alex bowed, and Sheherevar knew that the blond Slayer couldn't wait for the day when he would be permitted to kill the other man. It amused the mage a great deal to watch the animosity between them.

Looking back at the still-smoldering remains of the village, he smiled. He hated the dragons for their abilities which far outstripped his own. Why should they be the only ones to be able to create Crystals, to be born with several types of innate magic? He would make them, and anyone who had ever taunted him with their magic pay. He would make sure that they paid dearly for being gifted with more magic than he was.

+++

Lieutenant Noin watched her friend's face in concern as they jolted along in the back of the supply wagon. Three quarters of their unit had been lost to the dragon, though most of the horses had been retrieved. She didn't understand what exactly had gone wrong with their intel, but she'd realized early on in the fight that they hadn't been up against Raiders. The Raiders she'd encountered before didn't live in villages with women and children. She had been sickened as she fought, knowing that she couldn't risk disobeying - Shehrevar had a nasty reputation for 'disciplining' troops who disobeyed. There had been a limited challenge - the villagers had been caught by surprise though and weren't completely prepared for an invading force.

Things had been going well, if slaughtering innocents could be considered well, when the dragon had shown up. Noin had never seen a dragon up close, and it had scared her almost as much as it had the horses. She'd been thrown early on and had been forced to fight on foot like the rest of the unit.

That's when the real slaughter began. By this time, most of the villagers were dead, and the dragon began killing her friends. She'd looked for Zechs, to see if he'd call a retreat, and had seen him briefly at the edge of the village, staring blankly at the dragon, the tip of his sword resting in the dirt. After that first glimpse, she'd been too busy trying to stay alive to be concerned with him.

It wasn't until the end of the battle, after the Slayers had killed the dragons, that she'd had the chance to find him. He'd been lying face first on the ground, unconscious, and apparently unwounded. She and the remaining able-bodied members of the unit had carried the commander and the other wounded to the wagon where they could be treated for their injuries. Meiser, who'd been placed in charge of the healing Crystals, had been as surprised and worried as she'd been when he found that Zechs was indeed physically uninjured.

Now they were traveling westward, back over the mountains to where they belonged. The blond man whimpered slightly, mumbling something undecipherable, left hand stretching out towards the forest. Surprised, Noin waved one of the scouts in the direction Zechs had been reaching. It was unlikely that there was anything to see out there, but it had been the first sign of life he'd shown since she'd found him after the battle and she wasn't going to take any chances.

A short while later, the scout returned. "There's nothing out there, but an unconscious villager," he told her softly. "He looks to have taken a blow to the head, but he should live if he's treated. I didn't want to kill him, and there is a ~slight~ chance that someone survived this mess to save him."

Noin sighed and nodded. Though the man would likely die anyway, she didn't want to have anything to do with killing him. There had been enough senseless death already today. She just hoped that Zechs would wake up soon.

+++

The young man approached the village cautiously, staff held at ready, circling around to see if there was anyone left alive. He'd seen slaughters like this on the rare occasion, but never east of the mountains. He felt his rage grow as he recognized the pattern of the buildings as being that of a Dragon Clan village. It reminded him of the village that had taken him in as a child.

Seeing no living beings near the smoldering buildings, he approached cautiously. Most of the structures had been burned, though one or two were still partially intact. There were bodies everywhere, most of which were transformed dragons, judging by the Chiinaran looking features. Knowing that the dragons who populated these villages tended to hide their children when trouble showed, he hoped that he could find some survivors.

What he found made him heave his guts up.

The gathering hall where the villagers would meet and tell stories or socialize had been burned like the rest, but inside it were the corpses of dozens of children. Scrubbing at his tearless face, the young man backed out of the structure, clutching his long chestnut braid like a lifeline. He could tell by the way that the bodies were huddled, that they'd been alive when the building had been burned. Just like in the village he'd grown up in.

Knowing that there was one place where there might possibly be survivors, the young man looked around for an indication of where the hatchery might be located. He knew from long experience that dragons hid their hatcheries in the mountains, and one usually had to be familiar with the signs to find them. For such large creatures, dragons left surprisingly little evidence of their presence.

Creeping through the forest toward the western wall of the valley, the young stumbled across another sight that made him tremble in revulsion, fueling his rage. The remains of a dragon in its natural form lay stretched out among the broken branches, arrow stumps jutting from the remains of the torso. It had been stripped of the largest and most useful scales, claws and teeth; the rest had been left to rot.

Snarling in rage, the young man ran nimbly through the forest towards the spot where he thought the hatchery might be. He emerged onto what should have been a barely noticeable trail through and gasped in dismay when he saw the wagon tracks breaking a path along it. Following the now-exposed trail he pelted away from the village, afraid of what he would find.

As he reached the end of the trail, he cried out in dismay at the stripped body of another dragon in front of what had to be the hatchery entrance. Clutching his braid he circled the corpse and entered the cave. He cautiously crept down the tunnel, and when he got to the end of it he once again dropped to his knees, wracked with dry heaves.

The mangled corpses of infant dragons were scattered around the nesting chambers, broken and bloody. The eggs were gone. He felt tears prick his eyes, and fought them off, funneling his sorrow towards rage instead. He would find the bastards who did this and make them pay.

Forcing himself to examine the chambers of the hatchery, he looked for any hidden rooms. He knew that there was always one at least to store the Memory Crystals, if they hadn't been taken or destroyed as well. Finding a small, human-sized opening, he walked through into a huge room with no exit. Thinking about the dragons he'd known in the past, he realized that they would have transformed once in here and hidden the Crystals at a higher location.

Pulling a small iridescent Crystal out of his belt pouch, the young man commanded it to light, and a pale green glow filled the chamber. Setting the glowing Crystal on the floor, along with his staff, he peered along the ceiling of the cave until he found a place that was more shadowed than the others. He scrambled deftly up the rock face, slipping narrow fingers and toes into the nooks and crannies of the rough surface. Reaching the ceiling, he wormed his way onto the shelf. He'd been right - there was a cache of Memory Crystals here.

As carefully as he could, the young man gathered the slightly convex rectangles of pale blue Crystal and loaded them into his haversack. He knew that these were the most valuable item in a dragon's possession, each Crystal being a record of the Clan's history. There were a great many of Crystals here.

Scrambling down to the chamber proper again, he picked up the light Crystal and turned it off. Grabbing his staff, he exited the chamber and made his way back towards the entrance, trying not to look at the small bodies. Once outside he pulled out one of the newest Memory Crystal and invoked his decidedly limited mage skill to read the clan name on the Crystal.

"On this, the eighth day of the seventh month, in the year of the Chiinaran Tiger, I Duo Maxwell of the Maxwellan Clan do hereby record my memories of the last days of the Ellfyve Clan." Pressing the Crystal to his forehead, he felt his memories of what he'd found here imprint themselves onto the now-glowing shard. "I will seek justice, and will honor the dead in the ways of the Clan as far as I am able. I will pick up this record when justice is served, then deliver the Crystals into the hands of the Na'ta'kuu Clan. Thus my memory becomes the Clan's memory to last for all time."

Finishing the ritual intonation, Duo felt drained as he always did after using dragon magic. Knowing he had one more thing to do kept him from seeking rest yet. He replaced the Memory Crystal in the haversack with the others, then removed a large Crystal from his belt pouch. This one was as large as a Memory Crystal, but it had a red sheen to it rather than the blue of the Memory Crystal, or the iridescence of a regular Spell Crystal.

Holding the red Crystal in both hands, he once again invoked his mage skill. "Purifying fire," he intoned, directing his energy towards the object in his hands. He felt it warm drastically, and sweat broke out on his brow. Then there was a series of small 'booms' and the bodies of the dragons began to catch fire, burning in an intense red flame, quite different from the yellow-orange of natural fire. He concentrated on the flames, keeping them intensely hot until he felt them burn out one at a time as the bodies were consumed. He dropped to his knees, exhausted as he felt the remains of the two naturally formed dragons disintegrate under the power of the Crystal.

Duo slumped to the ground, spent Crystal cooling between his hands. He was breathing harshly, feeling completely drained of energy. He knew that he couldn't stay where he was however. If there were any dragon Clans near by then they would likely send a scout to investigate, and he suspected that the Chiinarans would also send warriors to find out the cause of the black smoke, if only to assure themselves that there no Raiders threatening their territory.

Using his staff to lever himself up, he used it to support his weight as he made his way slowly down towards the Path of Morning. He didn't want to see the village again, and planned on bypassing it entirely, sticking instead to the north side of the main road. He would have to find shelter for the night soon, for he was far too tired to extend his trip as he'd originally planned.

Angling westward, Duo staggered through the forest, very glad for the lack of underbrush on the shaded forest floor. The yellowed needles, cushioned his steps, as he silently walked under the towering evergreen trunks.

His mind was so fogged with exhaustion that at first he didn't register the lighter patch in the forest canopy until he was almost into the exposed area. Frowning, he scanned the clearing. It was very much like the area where he'd found the body of the first dragon - branches torn and broken as if something large had fallen from above.

There was no dragon however.

Frowning in puzzlement, Duo approached the area cautiously. There were some hoof-prints to the south where a horse had obviously spun around and kicked up the needles, but there was little evidence of anyone else having been here. Walking lightly, physical state ignored for the moment, the young man made his way towards the centre of the clearing.

At first he was unable to see anything, then he noticed an arm poking out from under a broken tree branch. Flipping the branch away with the end of his staff, Duo gasped at what he saw. It was a young man with shoulder-length black hair and caramel coloured skin. He wore a simple green robe and he looked like an average, though handsome, Chiinaran. Except for one thing.

He lay ~on~ most of the branches.

The only way he could have lain on ~top~ of the branches was if he were to have fallen on them from above, and only dragons could do that.

Scrambling towards the man, Duo felt for a pulse. It was faint, but there. Searching for injuries, he was puzzled to find his skin unblemished except for some scratches left by the branches. Duo was both impressed and confused. He was impressed because this dragon was obviously a powerful one because he'd been able to shift to his human form despite plunging through the trees. He was confused because of the lack of visible injuries. He knew that dragons were very hardy people whether in their natural or human form, and the only time he'd heard of one falling without obvious physical injuries was when his or her mate was killed - unfortunately, that usually meant that ~both~ were dead.

Sighing, he shook his head. There was no way he was going to leave the man here to die, but he was in no condition himself to take him very far. Scanning the area he spotted a deadfall fairly nearby that would due as shelter for a while - it was too obvious for a prolonged stay, but for the moment it would be enough. Going there himself, he noticed that there was quite a deep hollow under the trunk of the fallen tree. He deposited his gear there before going back to the unconscious man. Grabbing him under the arms, Duo dragged him to the natural shelter.

Deciding to waste a bit more energy, he pulled out two iridescent Spell Crystals. Using the last of his energy he used the one Crystal to cast a healing spell on the dragon beside him, and he used the other to cast a subtle illusion that would subtly convince anyone who saw them to ignore the site. A wizard would see through the spell, but it was unlikely that any of the few wizards that existed would bother to show up in the middle of a forest in the Dragonback Mountains. Feeling relatively safe, and really too tired to care anymore, Duo curled up near the other man and fell into an exhausted sleep.


TBC