Nixiesocean: … so, uh, about the questions… oh, wait. I have none
(Hint, hint. Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge) in any case, onward to chapter 7!

Chapter 7: The Perfect Romance

Cyrun looked out over the hills. It was dawn. This dawn was dimmer than the millions upon millions she had seen before. The sun wasn't as bright. The grass not nearly as green and the animals were not nearly as active. It was depressing. All of it was. Sir Eric had assured her that it would be okay, that everything would be fine. But, in her heart, Cyrun knew that it would never be okay. Nothing ever could be. She couldn't be the most powerful beast. She couldn't surge her wings against the relentless call of the storm. She couldn't sit still and watch time pass her by. No, she had to live.

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I came up to Cyrun. She was in one of my spare clothes, breeches and a loose cotton shirt. I gave her a thick cloak to chase away the morning chill. She was silent.

"Cyrun, come on. We're leaving." I said, trying to assure the dragon-gone-human.

"I have to live." She whispered. "It's all too confusing, knight. I can't watch time pass. It is so peculiar. I have to walk to places. I have to breathe in life itself."

"I know, Cyrun. I-" She didn't know the feeling. She didn't have it in her to lie to this poor woman. "Don't know. Listen, you have to be alive. To need to love who you are, not what you were."

"I love who I was. I hate who I am." She said without emotion. "I want to be a dragon, Eric. I want to live the Draconic life. I want to live on the winds. I want to be who I was."

"You can't," I said honestly. "You have to be Cyrun the human, not Cyrun the dragon."

"Then kill me. I can't live this short life. I don't know how!" She wailed. "I've always taken time to do something. I've thought it up over the span of a decade, then thought about the pros and cons for a few centuries, then I'd commit the idea over another century. Don't you see? I can't live a human life!"

I put my hand on her shoulder. I felt like an older sister. "I'll help. Come on, we need to go." I took her hand and gently pulled her toward our camp. Lance had set it up and taken it down. Since my injury, he seemed to do things without my asking. He even cooked dinner without my asking. "We're back now, Lance. We can go now."

"Good. Swift almost bit my fingers when I tried to feed him, you'll need to." He said. "That and Goldflame requests that you shine her."

He forgets I can talk to you, Mistress. Goldflame snickered, if a sword could laugh.

I know, Goldflame. I know, he is still a boy inside himself. I replied, knowing as well as my sword it was the truth. I think he still treats me like I am injured.

That he does, Mistress. It annoys me. Her sword said.

Go to sleep. I whispered. If you sleep.

Alright, my lady.

"Thank you. Let's move out. Cyrun, you ride Swift. Lance and I will walk." He balked. Normally, we dual-rode. But with the addition of Cyrun, one or both of us had to walk. "Yes, Lance. You will have to walk." I still teased him. Our relationship wasn't perfect. I still had problems with his ego; he still had problems with my commands. Such as walking.

"No, it's okay." Cyrun said, eyeing my stallion. "I think I'll walk. You may ride the pony, Lance." She recommended. For some reason, Swift wouldn't let Cyrun ride him. It disappointed me. I thought he would be more kind, now that I was healed.

"As if he was a pony." Lance snorted. "He's more than just a pony." He had neared the stallion, who had his ears back, and reached out a tentative hand. "Now, now, boy. I didn't mean it." He tried to put the saddle on Swift, who promptly knocked it off. Lance tried it three more times, to the pleasure of Cyrun, who if she wasn't so sad, would've laughed. "Damn horse." He cursed, then threw the saddle at me. "You ride him, princess-of-the-oh-so-polite-pony."

I caught the tossed saddle with ease and effortlessly put the saddle on him. "See, my oh-so-sweet prince-in-distress," Cyrun cracked a smile at the joke, albeit a small one. "It is simple. To saddle my little boy."

"You little devil is more like it." Lance countered.

"My little sweetheart." I crooned. I then lifted a leg and Swift kneeled so I could mount. "There's a boy. Good Swift." He stood up and I laughed. "See? That's how it's done."

"Right. He's partial to you, Eric." Lance objected.

"Unless you want to dual-ride, shut up." I said peevishly. Damn mood swings.

"Okay, princess, I know you have the power to make me shut up." He said with emphasis on the title.

"I do!" I said, turning to face the prince. "If I hadn't saved your sorry, over-spoiled, self-rightious ass from that damn dragon, you'd still be there, being a servant to her," I pointed at Cyrun. "Former master. So, if you want to get back to your little castle, shut the heck up and stay that way!" He shut up. He slowed up, so as to put distance between himself and me.

"I think that was a little harsh for a person that just saved your life." Cyrun advocated. "Try being a little more polite."

"If you have some miracle mix that takes away one's mood swings, then stop speaking." I lashed out. Her eyes widened, the filled with tears. "Oh, Cyrun, I'm so sorry…"

She looked back to me. "No, I don't have anything that would take away… what do you call them, mood swings." Apparently, dragons didn't have them. "What are they?"

I breathed deeply and began the lesson of the birds and the bees.

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Lance was shocked by Sir Eric's anger. Sure, she had gotten angry before, but she had never taken up the argument about the dragon. She knew it was a sore subject. Yet, she brought it up anyways. She put salt in his wound. She had the nerve of a dragon and the guts of any noble, which she was, he reminded himself. She had never thanked him for taking her to Cyrun. She had never apologized for calling him a girl. She never explained the kiss. Sir Eric in and of herself was a mystery and a puzzle, yet he was missing a piece. It was like losing one book of a series. Or, having just enough room for that little bit of clothing, but the pants just won't fit.

He knew he held some affection for the knight. It was hard not to. She was a beautiful woman, but rough. He desperately wanted to find the missing piece to the puzzle. He thought knew why she was being so rude. She wanted to distance herself from him. She was already engaged. She couldn't fall in love with someone that wasn't her fiancée. He wanted her to approach him about it. He hoped she would, along with her name. He wanted to talk to her about it, rather than just be rude so he would start not to like her anymore. Sir Eric and Cyrun were deeply engaged in some sort of talk. He sped up to listen, then, hearing what they were talking about, slowed up again.

The women were going to leave him to his thoughts. And what thoughts they were. He loved Sir Eric, but this wasn't the perfect romance. It was almost the opposite.

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"So, understand?" By this time, my cheeks were burning. I hadn't had this talk since my nurse told me when it started.

"I believe so, knight." Cyrun replied, probably ignorant of the embarrassment the subject caused me. She sighed, then looked up at me. "What do you think of romance?" What in the world…?

"I hate it." I said. "I have to."

"Why?" She asked. "Why do you hate it?"

"Because." I said shortly. "I do."

"Is it because you are engaged?" Why did she have to ask these questions?

"Yes." I declared. "It is. Why do you want to know?"

"I've always heard my m-the dragon- say that damsels are rescued by their knights and they live happily ever after." She seemed saddened. "I wanted to know what you thought of such a story."

"That it's a load of crap." I said. "No one lives happily ever after. You always will have fights."

"I see." Cyrun said.

"What do you think of romance?"

"I don't know. I've never experienced love before. It's a hard subject."

It was my turn. "I see."

"And, since I'm human…" She was extremely accepting of the fact… "I thought I might as well get used to it, and I wanted to know love when I felt it." Wow, talk about saddening…

I looked behind me. There was Lance, absorbed in whatever thoughts men think of. "Lance!" I called. "We're stopping for lunch." It was high noon but the trees gave us protection from the scorching sun and the midday heat. We stopped and had lunch, comprised of small berries, boiled roots, bread and water. Cyrun went off to do whatever she likes to do, leaving Lance and I staring at our food.

"What's your problem?" He demanded. "We've known each other for slightly over a month and you've kissed me. Why do you hate me?"

"I don't hate you. Hate is a strong word." I replied, ever so calm.

He rolled his eyes. "Then strongly dislike."

"I don't strongly dislike you." I replied mildly.

"You are so…" He yelled.

"So what?" I inquired. "Please, do tell."

"Hard to understand." He whispered. "I don't get you."

"Then deal with it. I'm washing my dishes, hand me yours." I said, standing. I reached out my hand. He stood and gave me his dishes and looked me in the eyes.

"I'll wait for you, Eric. Tell me when, and I'll come calling." He walked away, leaving me stunned. What had he just said? Did he mean all of that?

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He sat by the rocks, staring into the clear brook where they'd fetched the water for lunch. Cyrun came around a tree. A tear leaked out his eye and dripped into the brook, rippling the reflection of his face.

"You love her." Her voice carried across the damp forest floor.

"Yes. I do."

"I… overheard." She admitted.

"I see." He said.

"Why?" She asked.

"Why what?"

"Why do you love her, if she's so hard?" The reflection came back. Why did he love her? Why didn't he hate her, like she surely did him?

"I don't know, Cyrun. I've tried to, it gives me a headache."

"What do you think of romance?"

"Right now? Or before Sir Eric?"

"Now."

"That women have too complex of a mind. It's so hard. She loves me one day, then the next she's yelling at me."

"That wasn't the answer to my question."

He smiled. At least she knew what she wanted. "Of romance…" He hummed a tune his mother had used when he was a child. "I like a bit of romance now and then, but right now, I think that it's all a load of crap."

"Is that why you are having a hard time with your lady?"

"No."

"Then what is?"

"What?"

"What is the problem?"

"That she is bi-polar."

"She told me why."

His cheeks burned. "I know why but not why she can't control it."

Cyrun rolled her eyes. "I doubt you'll ever understand."

"See? That's just it! You women think we men are always inferior!" He stood and looked at Cyrun.

"I never said that." She whispered. "I simply said that you wouldn't understand the human female." He rolled his eyes and stalked off.

Sir Eric had re-saddled and re-bridled Swift. "You can ride. He'll let you." She walked ahead, leaving Lance staring at her 'little sweetheart.' Sighing, he mounted the horse and, surprisingly, trotted, then slowed up, just behind Sir Eric. Cyrun came out of the forest and jogged up to Sir Eric. They were deeply engaged into a chat.