The grit of the damp sand between your claws was comforting. The drag of the waves that washed over the bridge of your feet and drained in between the crevices of your scale-armour, however, stung your skin, cooling the lava that flowed thick and dense through your veins. But you stayed with the pulse and ebb of the ocean, you'd have to get used to it if you went along with the plan you had conjured. You stood, pertinent and braced at the place where the salt ocean water lapped at the sand, and rose a stone pillar a hundred feet out into the surging sea. It was a frighteningly familiar scene. The first thing you had ever seen in your life, but it was missing something. Your counterpart. And so you waited, patient and resilient as the rock you governed.

Though you grew mildly impatient, you knew that she could have been anywhere in the world's oceans. It could have taken days for her to arrive, and you would have waited all those days and nights.

Each minute out of the eleven that you waited for her felt like a year. Each second was painful in it's tenseness and each minute wracked your mind.

Your view of the world was saturated and bright despite the night that enshrouded the crannies of the stone and the depths of the sea. Each white peak of the water was sharp and the navy lines of light that were deep into the cryptic carvings of your scales looked like a clan of Volbeat had settled themselves into the ridges.

You heard her presence first, a great groaning sound that rumbled through the ocean, the minutes became quicker, and so you waited. The water rippled with her exhalation, bubbles rising to the surface.

Then you could see a dark form just beyond your stone tower, and she swerved about it, her fin slashing through the sea and a great wave came forth, toppling the obelisk into gravel. Another great sound emanated through the damp, salty air and the tip of her head emerged from the frothing ocean.

The hue of her skin was several shades brighter than the colour around it. The rest of her form wavered under the surface, the ruby luminescence trembled and writhed like an Ekans. She looked at you, nothing more, nothing less than pure neutrality. You kept your gaze solid. You had really only raised the pillar on a whim, though you knew she would arrive to the disturbance. You also knew that she was waiting for a reason to pound at you with Water Spout. You were't planning on giving her one.

And your reasoning for this is? Or do you even have one?

No, not really -

You never seem to, ever. Well, I suppose that attempting to anger me is enough reason for you.

I don't know, I just wish you would understand something.

What would that be then?

That we don't have to fight.

. . . what?

I mean it, I just wish, really, that we didn't have to, but really we don't.

That's impossible.

It's not, I mean it I think we can, I think we can stop it. We don't need it.

You could see something in her movements, not her eyes, she had long squeezed them shut, but she was tense. you never spoke in any manner that could be considered nervous . . . but now you were, to her of all living creatures. She knew now, you thought, that this wasn't just one of your jokes that was conceptualized just to start a fight.

We need release.

No, they need it, we can do without it no matter what they say.

Do you not understand? We are primal creatures. We have no way to find that which we need except through each other.

Yes, I know . . .

Well drop it.

No, I am tired of it.

I don't care-

And you are too. Do not lie to me! I know you better than any other! There is another way. I know there is, there has to be . . .

There is not, stop this foolishness!

There is and we will find it!

I am not going to waste my time over some dream of yours that does not exist!

It does exist, and if it does not, I will make it!

It will never exist, we will fight until the end of time eternal.

I will . . . I will not continue with this. It is your dream as well . . . we are exhausted.

I . . . I am bone tired. I cannot lie of it.

But will you?

No.

Ever?

No, not ever. I promise you. But . . .

Yes?

Do you promise?

Yes.

Then we will find a way. I suppose.

A/N: Probably the last installment of this . . . thing. However, if you did like it tell me in the comments along with your favourite legendary ship and I'd be happy to try and write something for you.