A Night at the Bar

When Cynder had suggested that they join in on the festivities celebrating the first anniversary of Malefor's defeat, Spyro had expected to spend a relaxing day by his mate's side. He had expected to peruse the many stalls that had been set up, try out the new and exotic foods on display or spectate the wide variety of competitions that were being held. He and Cynder had done all that and more, but coming to one of Warfang's pubs was the last thing he thought they'd do.

He wouldn't say that he was particularly unhappy or uncomfortable with the dimly lit tavern or its patrons. A shout followed by a large thud caused the purple dragon to flinch. Make that very rowdy patrons, Spyro thought to himself.

No, the only thing that was bothering him was the black-scaled dragoness in the center of the room. Under any normal circumstances, he wouldn't have been worried about Cynder at all. He knew she was completely capable of taking care of herself. But now, she wasn't quite really herself.

"Is that all ya got?!" Cynder shouted over the other loud voices in the pub. "I'm just getting started!"

Spyro stared at the dragoness in astonishment as she quickly downed another mug of alcohol in just a few moments. As soon as the last drops of the mead left the container, Cynder slammed it down onto the wooden table in front of her. An earth dragon who had accepted her drinking challenge looked at her stunned with a half-full cup in his paws. Sighing in defeat, Cynder's opponent dragged himself away from the table. A wicked grin was plastered on the dragoness's muzzle.

"Alright! Who's next? I can drink any one of you under the table!" she jeered.

Spyro sighed and shook his head as yet another dragon, this time a fire dragon, sat down across from the black dragoness. A series of taunts and jeers aimed at her new opponent escaped from Cynder's muzzle. She was enjoying herself. Spyro was glad, but at the same time he couldn't help but feel a bit neglected.

He looked down at the drink in his paws and took a modest sip. The taste was bitter on his tongue and he managed to fight back a grimace. How Cynder could stomach so much of it in so little time surprised Spyro. He couldn't see himself lasting long in a drinking competition—not that he would ever be involved in one, of course.

Still though, the liquor helped divert his thoughts away from the black dragoness. It also distracted him from the small mole pulling up a stool next to him at the bar. Another round of shouts and cheers drew Spyro's attention back to Cynder's competition. Another victory for the dragoness it seemed.

Spyro's eyes wandered around the tavern. There was nothing of interest for the purple dragon, leaving him to stare into his near empty mug. A nearby grunt caught his attention.

A cheetah standing behind the bar was cleaning an empty mug with a rag. "You want another?"

The drake looked at the barkeep then to his drink. He shook his head. "No, thanks. I don't think I'll be having any more."

"He can pull the world back together, but can't handle a little drink? How pathetic," a voice to his side said.

Spyro quirked his brow and turned. To his left was the mole who had sat down earlier. "Excuse me?"

The mole drank large gulps from a mug that was almost comically large for him. He looked at the dragon with an uninterested gaze. "What? Ya hard of hearin' or somethin'? Ya heard me. Or are ya already too drunk to understand what I'm sayin'?"

A frown was etched on Spyro's muzzle. "I'm not drunk and I can understand you just fine. I just don't see what the appeal of this stuff is," he said, swishing around the remaining contents of his mug.

The mole scoffed. "That's because ya picked some piss-poor ale!" He gestured to the bartender. "Hey, cat! Why do ya even serve that crap here?"

The feline shrugged, unbothered by the mole's rude behavior. "Some people actually like it. It's cheap too."

"Well those people don't deserve to drink. They have terrible taste in alcohol!"

"That they do, Aedric," the barkeep nodded in agreement.

Spyro looked at the two curiously. "And what alcohol would be considered good alcohol?"

Aedric, the mole, ignored the drake and continued drinking, causing some irritation to fester within Spyro. The cheetah was more accommodating, fortunately, and answered his question. "It's more just personal preference."

"Then how can you say that anyone's drink is bad?" Spyro argued.

"Because they are!" Aedric said definitively, hardly pausing in between drinks.

"That doesn't make sense!" Spyro said, frustrated.

"Not many things do."

The purple dragon rolled his eyes. "Then what drink do you think is good?" Spyro eyed the mole impatiently, waiting for a response. Aedric either failed to notice or didn't care and continued to empty his mug. "Well?"

Aedric set his mug down on the counter and sighed. He muttered to himself, "Damn dragons, lettin' all their power go to their heads. Won't even let me have a peaceful drink." Spyro's jaw dropped, offended. He opened his mouth to say something when the crass mole held up a paw. "Hey, cat! Get us a couple of ciders and I'll show this dragon what a good drink is."

The cheetah crouched down below the counter to grab a bottle. Spyro leaned over to see what the barkeep was getting, but immediately jumped back as the feline shot up. In one paw was an indistinct bottle and in the other was another pair of mugs. He placed the mugs in front of the mole and the dragon and opened the bottle. He poured its contents into each of the cups and handed them to Spyro and Aedric.

Spyro looked into his mug to see a fizzy liquid with a faint fruity smell emanating from it. He turned his gaze to Aedric who picked up the mug and started drinking without hesitation. Spyro picked up his own mug and took a cautious sip. The cider was tingly on his tongue and tasted like apples. It was actually quite nice. The purple dragon licked his lips, savoring the sweet taste. "It's good."

Noticing the drake's satisfaction, Aedric lowered his mug and said, "Not like that crap you were drinkin' earlier, yeah?"

Allowing himself a small smile, Spyro nodded. "I guess I know what I'll be ordering from now on."

Aedric merely grunted and continued drinking. The drake lifted the mug up to his lips for another drink, but paused. He looked at the mole beside him curiously. The mole caught Spyro staring and called him out. "What do ya want now?"

Spyro's cheeks flushed. "What do you do?"

Aedric raised an eyebrow. "What kinda question is that?"

"I mean, what do you do for a living?"

The mole let out a drawn out sigh. "Ya dragons always have to butt into everythin', don't you?"

The purple dragon balked. "No, no! I don't mean to—"

"I'm a blacksmith, if you must know."

"Ah, I see…" Spyro said noncommittedly. A sense of guilt washed over the drake from the mole's accusation. He wasn't trying to be nosy; he was just interested in what someone else who lived in Warfang did in their everyday lives. He took a small sip from his mug and swirled the liquid around in his mouth.

Aedric turned to him. "Well, aren't ya gonna to ask anythin' else?"

Caught off guard, Spyro only uttered a single syllable. "What?"

"Ya interrupt my drinkin' to ask me about my life and then decide to leave at one question? If I were a violent person, I'd smack ya over the head for bein' so rude."

Exasperated, Spyro laid his head on the counter and rubbed his temples.

"So ya have enough to drink now or what?" Aedric barked. "Damn lightweight."

Spyro ignored the mole's commentary and tried to think of something to ask. After a moment, he decided upon, "So what kind of stuff do you make as a blacksmith?"

"Durin' the war, I made all sorts of weapons from swords and maces to lances. Armor too. Nowadays, I just focus on makin' quality tools," he replied casually, not noticing or not caring how irritated Spyro was.

"Is there anything else you do?"

Aedric shifted in his seat. "Not particularly. Though I do make jewelry for my wife every now and then."

"You have a wife?" Spyro asked, shocked. How could someone stand the mole's incredulous behavior?

"Ah, yes, my darlin' Mara," he said, his eyes distant as if he was recalling something. "She's the love of my life. I don't know where I'd be without her."

Spyro glanced in Cynder's direction. "I know what you mean."

"'Course she can be a real handful sometimes…" Aedric trailed off, grumbling to himself.

The purple dragon studied the mole quizzically. In one moment, he could be harsh and abrasive. And in the other, he'd be rather normal. Then he'd go back to his less than pleasant self. He was an odd mole, but seemed to be fairly knowledgeable. He was well-versed in alcohol. He was even an experienced blacksmith and a hobbyist jewel maker. A thought occurred to Spyro.

"Hey, Aedric," he said, gaining the mole's attention.

"Mmm?" Aedric replied as he took a drink.

"You said you make jewelry, right?"

"I'm not makin' anythin' for yer dragoness."

Spyro blinked in surprise. "How did you know I was going to ask?"

Aedric waved his mug around in the drake's face. "It's written all over yer face! Everyone knows yer always thinkin' about her. Almost sickening, really."

Spyro's face reddened. Was he really that obvious? "How is it sickening? You were doing the same thing with your wife!"

"Aye, and it was absolutely disgusting. Doesn't mean I love her any less though."

Spyro sighed, growing tired of the mole's antics. "So there's no chance you can make a necklace or something for Cynder?"

"None." Aedric glanced at the dragon from the corner of his eye. Spyro's shoulders were slumped and his tail limp. Shaking his head, the mole then said, "If ya wanna get something nice for your lady, you either go find someone else or ya make it yourself."

"Well, do you know anyone else who knows how to make jewelry?"

Aedric shrugged. "Eh, not really."

"Then I guess I'll have to go to the market or something. Maybe I'll find something nice there."

"Good luck with that," the mole snorted.

Spyro raised an eye ridge. "What do you mean by that?"

"Everyone knows how pricey the stuff there is. Lot cheaper to make it yerself."

"But I don't know how to make jewelry and I don't know anyone who can teach me."

"I can be a pretty good teacher, ya know."

The purple dragon eyed the mole doubtfully. "But you just said that you wouldn't make anything for me."

"Didn't say nothin' about teachin'."

"Are you being serious right now?" Spyro asked hesitantly.

Aedric lifted his mug to his lips and finished off the rest of his drink. He grabbed a few gems from a pouch on his side and tossed them onto the counter. "If ya want to take me up on the offer, you come see me in the crafting district sometime next week." He hopped off the stool and started walking to the door.

Spyro got up from his seat to follow the mole. "Hey, wait!" he called out. The mole didn't break his stride and ignored the drake. "Why'd you offer to teach me? Why did—gah!"

Something smooth and cold stroked the scales of his underbelly, causing the male to jump. He immediately recoiled to see Cynder pulling her metal tail blade back to herself. A wave of confusion replaced his surprise. He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by a fit of giggles.

"Hey there, handsome," she said, the smell of alcohol heavy on her breath.

Cynder rubbed her side against Spyro's. His face flushed as he remembered that they were both in full view of the pub's patrons. "Cynder, wh-what are you doing?"

The dragoness slid her head underneath the drake's neck and nuzzled him fiercely. "I just wanted to show you how much I love you." She pulled back and matched his gaze with a rather seductive one of hers. Her voice lowered a pitch or two. "And right now, I really love you."

Spyro's heart began to beat faster as he realized exactly what she wanted. He slowly backed away from her, keeping in mind that they were still very much in public. That didn't seem to deter Cynder, however, as she stalked towards him with a hunger in her eyes. Spyro stumbled over his own paws and fell onto his back. There was a devilish grin on the dragoness's muzzle.

He scooted away from her as she got closer. "N-now, Cynder," he stammered, "i-if you want that, we should head home first."

"What I need right now is you," she purred.

"I didn't know we were getting a show!" a voice in the bar shouted.

"I guess we'll finally see just how 'impressive' the purple dragon is!" another joked.

Spyro shrunk underneath their comments and quickly got up. He placed a wing over Cynder's back and rushed her to the door. As they walked into the cool night breeze, he could hear the bartender call out to them.

"Hey! You still haven't paid yet!"

"We'll pay later! Sorry!"

After several minutes of struggling with Cynder on the streets, Spyro managed to get them back to their room. As they stepped inside, Cynder wrapped her paws around him and began a trail of kisses along his neck. The smell of alcohol on her was still strong. He tried to pull away—he couldn't take advantage of her inebriated state—but her grip on him was strong. She mashed her lips against his.

"Mmph!" he cried out. He could taste the alcohol on her tongue. They stayed like that for a few moments, Cynder's limbs wrapped securely around Spyro, before she gave him enough room to pull away to breathe. Cynder leaned in again for another kiss, but the purple drake managed to free himself.

A mix of longing, hurt, and confusion was in Cynder's eyes. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Don't you love me?"

Spyro, still breathing hard, placed a paw on his chest in an attempt to calm his pounding heart and quell the carnal desire Cynder was inspiring within him. "Of course I do, but you're not yourself right now. I don't want to take advantage of you like that."

"You're so sweet." She nuzzled him deeply, rubbing her shoulders against his chest. "But I want you so much right now."

He flared his nostrils as her inviting scent filled the air. Spyro let out a low whine. It was taking all of his willpower to not give in. "I-I know, but l-let's just go to sleep. There isn't anything we can do." A great deal of her weight pressed against him, threatening to topple them both onto the ground if Spyro didn't support her. "Cyn?"

He looked at her to see her closed eyes and he could make out her slow and steady breaths. She was already asleep. Spyro smiled and carried her over to the cushions that served as their bed. With her now asleep, it would make ignoring his urges much easier. He laid his head down on his paws and tried to fall asleep next to his mate. Unfortunately for the young male, the effects of Cynder's advancements still hadn't left him yet.

Spyro sighed and did he best to forget the fire he felt in his belly. It was going to be a long night.

Somehow I managed to finish another chapter for this story. And so far, this one has given me the most trouble. I had to rewrite this one a couple times before I was satisfied, and I hope you enjoy it despite it being a bit of a filler. The main purpose of this chapter was to transition to the next chapter which will focus on the main thing introduced into this chapter: Aedric and his jewel making. You probably have an idea of what will happen next chapter.

I do have final exams in two weeks and will refrain from working on the next chapter until at least those have passed.

Thank you for reading and thank you to those who reviewed!