He brought the sword swinging down.

Down into the dirt.

The blade sank easily into the wet, sandy ground. His limbs went boneless and he fell onto his knees, kneeling against the blade. A cry of sheer fury and rage spilled from his lips, echoing across the valley and out into the hills beyond.

He panted. His throat was hoarse now, hoarser than it had been before. All his aches and pains made themselves clearly felt as his eyes became watery with tears he refused to spill, even if the dragon couldn't see them.

Why couldn't he do it?! It was a dragon! They were a blight on mankind, stealing and plundering and killing for no good reason! He had easily, so very easily, taken a human life. Why couldn't he do it now to some monster?

'Because it felt good the first time. Because it was too easy the first time. Because you are just as bad, if not worse, than the monster in front of you.'

Jaune refused to cry, but his breathing was choked and he lowered his head, squeezing his eyes shut. He didn't want this. He didn't want to be traipsing across the wilderness. He didn't want to be sleeping in cold, wet hills. He didn't want to be afraid every time he neared a settlement, wondering if bounty hunters or Inquisitors were waiting for him there. He just wanted to go home. He wanted to go back to the easier days when the days themselves were warmer, brighter and longer. When the realities of the world and the danger and worry they bring were hidden from him, shielded by a cadre of loving family and protective guardians he never gave enough credit for.

Something hot gusted across his faceplate, blowing through the small gaps that allowed him to see and breathe, bathing his face with a distinctly animalistic smell and warmth. He opened his eyes and raised his head, and came face to face with the dragon. It cooed softly, nuzzling his face with its nose, and he stared into its eyes, seeing his own reflected in the crimson red depths of them.

It was tired. He was tired.

He closed his eyes again, resting his head against the dragons. If he was in the mood for, anything really, he'd likely be freaking out with fear and confusion and maybe even happiness. Scared to be so close to a dragon, confused about its show of empathy, happy at the possibility that this dragon, this strange, sad, seemingly compassionate dragon, may not be the only type amongst its kind, and that peace may finally come to Remnant for the first time since historians began writing history.

But he wasn't in the mood for idealistic thoughts of what ifs or the potential long term consequences this may have. He took the comfort the dragon offered silently and gratefully.

And they sat there. He didn't know for how long. He didn't care either. Even when his knees began to ache, stuck kneeling for so long. The hail and sleet pitter pattered around them. The waterfall gushed down into the flowing stream, a constant, calming melody. His breathing evened out and he calmed down. The dragon's breathing became less ragged.

It was nice. It was quiet. It was peaceful.

Then the dragon's belly rumbled.

He leaned back slowly, and smiled at its expression. For the briefest moments he feared he was about to be eaten, but the somehow sheepish look expressed on its scaly, lizard-like face relaxed him immediately, and a short laugh bubbled out of his chest.

"You're not going to eat me are you?" Jaune asked teasingly, though he wasn't sure why, considering it was a dragon. It seemed to understand him to an extent, but he would genuinely crap his pants there and then if it could speak too. "That would be a very mean thing to do."

The dragon shook its head. A dragon shook its head.

Jaune had a feeling that he had to stop being so surprised. It was obvious it was far more intelligent than he, or anyone else he knew of for that matter, gave it credit for. Also he'd likely have a heart attack or a stroke.

"Right. What do you eat then?"

The dragon rumbled, then it huffed. It couldn't speak after all, but Jaune could work with that.

He stood, and took off his stuffy helmet. The dragon blinked. He blinked back.

"Surely I'm not that ugly am I?" He asked with a small smile. It was meant to be a joke, but the dragon's eyes widened and shook its head adamantly. It made him jump a little, how quick it suddenly moved, as it had been lethargic and tired with its movements so far. It was a stark reminder that for all its apparent humanity, it was still a dragon. "I-I uh was just joking. You know what that is right?"

Its look was one of deadpan disappointment.

"I-I'll take that as a yes. If I start listing animals and stuff, can you nod to tell me whether or not you eat them?"

The dragon nodded. He thought of all the animals he'd seen recently.

"Dogs?"

It shook its head adamantly.

"Sheep?"

It nodded quickly. He glanced at the stream, seeing a glimpse of silver.

"Fish?"

It nodded reluctantly.

"Well I can do that." Jaune said, putting his helmet on a large rock before heading towards the stream. Fish were falling down from the waterfall and heading down the stream towards the main river. He couldn't see them clearly in the murky water, but considering the time of the year and the location, he'd guess they were Atlesian Low-water Salmon. They'd be migrating to the sea to avoid getting frozen during the Atlesian winter, and would return via the wetlands and lowlands during the mating season next year. He looked up at the waterfall. Dozens of fish came pouring down. He looked at the dragon.

"Why haven't you caught any?"

The dragon huffed, this one a sigh of irritation if he had to guess, before it strained upwards and opened its maw. Water gushed down its throat, with only a few fish landing as well. After a few moments, it lowered its head and coughed water and fish onto the ground. Then it ate the few fish it caught.

"Yeah that looks unpleasant."

'You think?' The dragon's glare told him, and he raised his arms placatingly.

"I'm sorry for asking. Let me think for a minute."

It rolled its eyes and went back to his meal. Brothers above this was weird. He was talking to a dragon whilst it ate fish instead of him. It'd be a hell of a story to tell his grandchildren that was for sure.

'Skipping a few steps there Jaune. Gotta survive an Inquisitor first.' He thought, and he glanced back at the dragon. What the hell was he doing? He should just kill and be done with it. It would be easy to. It wouldn't expect it. It would be quick and easy and he could make it as painless as possible. He needed to get immunity from the Inquisition. And to do that he had to kill a dragon and join the Order of Drachentöter, the only thing free of the Inquisition's influence due to its importance.

Just kill a dragon.

It ate its fish, not a care in the world. Either not seeing him as a threat or trusting him not to do something stupid.

He sighed. If he fed the dragon, made it happier, maybe he could make a deal with it? You needed proof to join the Order of Drachentöter, and if he got it some food then maybe it would give him a scale or something if he asked nicely enough?

It looked up at him, licking its maw as it finished its meal.

Jaune sighed again.

"We need to talk. Or I need to talk. Can you listen? Please?"

It cocked its head and nodded.

"Let me start from the beginning…"

/#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/

"...and that's why I need one of your scales. If I don't then you may as well just eat me because I won't have a life to go back to. So…do we have a deal?"

Yang Xiao Long was many things. She was a dragon. She had been a sister. She had been a daughter. She had failed at those things.

And now she was failing to be a dragon as well.

She should've torched him with her fire the second she saw him approach, plundered his corpse, gulped down his remains then fly off into the sunset to make a nest. But she didn't.

She had lowered her head, closed her eyes, and waited for him to kill her like any normal human would have done. She was just glad it hadn't been Ruby to inflict the final, killing blow.

She had a feeling this human, this Jaune Arc, wasn't a very normal human.

He had refused to kill her. He hadn't tried fleeing from her. He had taken what little comfort she could give him and had returned it with his own, hard but gentle due to his armour. Then he had tried talking to her, communicating with her, figuring what food she needed and would have likely gone to find it.

And now he had spilled his life story to her. Weren't knights supposed to kill dragons rather than open up to them?

But he wasn't a knight wasn't he? He needed to kill her, or one of her kind, in order to do that, and to escape an organisation hunting him down.

Weirdly, she felt like she could empathise with that.

All he wanted was to return to the life he had, but couldn't because he was being hunted by those 'Inquisitors'.

All she wanted to do was to return to the life she had had, but couldn't because she was being hunted by knights, by silver-eyed monsters, by the last remnant of her old life herself.

Different but similar. And if Jaune Arc was true to his word, he would help her. Help. Help her.

Just the thought of it made her want to sing and dance. Yes, it was partly out of a selfish desire to help himself. Little more than a transaction. But she had been alone for so, so long, harassed by her own kind and hunted by the humans. The last time someone had spoken words to her was when a knight had charged at her, screaming about keeping her head as a trophy. Her own kind were little better. She was a threat to them, an orphan but one too young to be taken in, an orphan at an age where she would have been driven from her own nest by her mother to prevent her threatening her mother's hegemony over the nest and surrounding domain. She was driven away by dragons and humans alike, so even this tiny glimmer of something made her tired body muster with a strength she had thought she had lost due to hunger and exhaustion.

Yang Xiao Long was many things. A failure of a daughter. A failure of a sister. A failure of being a monster. She would be damned if she failed the first person to show her something other than suspicion or hostility for she didn't know how many years.

She looked into his eyes. They were as blue as the sky, glimmering with desperation and something that might have been hope. She'd never been good with emotions.

Yang Xiao Long was many things. But she would not fail Jaune Arc.

/#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/

Jaune watched as the dragon sat up and on its haunches. By the Brothers did it tower over him! It stretched out what he could only guess was its right arm so that he could see each individual scale, each little scratch and bump and scar that adorned them. Then it raised its other arm, and he stepped backwards, eyes widening with fear.

It was going to kill him. He was going to die.

It brought its arm crashing down, letting out a bellow as it did so. He closed his eyes and waited for death.

It didn't come.

And it still didn't come.

And so he opened his eyes.

Red blood gushed from a wound on its arm. It lightly huffed fire onto it, cauterising the wound. In front of him, was a scale the size of his hand.

"Y-You cut off your scale? F-For me?" He stammered, eyes darting from the scale to the dragon. It nodded.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" He cried, overcome with joy and happiness and even more sheer freaking joy! He was free! The Inquisitors couldn't get him now!

He slammed into something cold and warm at the same time, but it was definitely hard. It took him a moment to realise he was hugging its leg, and he stepped away quickly, rubbing his head awkwardly.

"Sorry about that." He told the dragon, which looked so comically shocked that the only word to describe it there and then was bamboozled. "Just give me a few minutes to rig up some fish traps and then I'll get to work fulfilling our deal."

He turned away from the dragon. His instinct still screamed at him for being an idiot for doing so, but a larger part of him both did and wanted to trust the dragon. It had hurt itself just to help him, had communicated with him. It wasn't like any other dragon anyone had ever known. Perhaps it could convince other dragons to be less…dragon-like?

But he had to focus on the task at hand. He was an Arc, and an Arc always kept their promises. He shrugged off parts of his armour for better mobility and began clambering up the valley, picking up stray branches that had been broken off some of the few trees that grow along the valley's slopes. After collecting a bundle of the wet but strong wood, he returned to the dragon, who watched him curiously.

He tore off part of his tunic that stuck out from underneath his chest plate and began using the strips of fabric to tie the wood together in a rickety, makeshift basket, though it would be used as a cage. Then he turned and sighed as he stared at the waterfall. The valley was too steep to climb all the way to the top, and he wondered just how he was going to get up there.

The dragon, who had been watching silently, followed his gaze and chuffed. Its teeth were bared and for a brief second Jaune feared it was going to kill him for not being able to complete their deal. Then he realised its chest was heaving not because it was about to bathe him in flames but because it was laughing.

He was witnessing a dragon laugh. What would happen next? Would the Gods themselves appear before him, proclaiming him their son and making him God-King of the world?

Best not to tempt fate actually, considering how crazy his life had been lately.

"Laugh all you want." Jaune said, somewhat petulantly. "I need to get up there to get your food, so you're the one who loses in this situation.

That got it to stop laughing…

Oh gods he'd stopped it from laughing!

It crawled over towards him and nudged him with its head. He stared at it in sheer confusion as it continued to do so, before it huffed in annoyance and dove between his legs, pushing him up onto its head with its snout. He let out a not very manly scream as the ground suddenly grew further and further away from him, and he clutched onto the crests that made its eyebrows desperately.

"Oh gods I'm sorry! Just put me down!" Jaune yelled, clinging for dear life. The dragon huffed and puffed for a few minutes but made no move to either eat him, toss him or lower him. Reluctantly, like coaxing a snail from its shell, Jaune opened his eyes and realised the dragon had raised him up so he was just underneath the edge of the cliff next to the waterfall. "Oh. Thank you."

The dragon huffed and he clambered off it and pulled himself onto top of the sheer cliff. Then it lowered its head and raised the basket he'd made, which he took with one hand, the other bracing himself against the cliff edge. He thanked the dragon again, and it rolled its eyes before sitting at the bottom of the cliff and watching him, reminding him distinctly of a cat or a dog. If either was massive, scaly and could breathe fire that was.

He set about tying the cage against a rock near the edge of the waterfall. The current was strong but not strong enough to tear his makeshift basket apart but he gathered a few rocks from the stony river bed and used them to fortify the ropes made of strips of his tunic which kept the basket tied to the rock. Then he sat near the cliff edge so the dragon could see him and waited.

Jaune talked to the dragon whilst he did so. He told it of the little things and the big things. Of the personal things and the private things. In all honesty he just ranted for a while, periodically checking the basket. If it was full he'd throw it down into the gaping, waiting maw of the dragon.

The storm had long gone and the sun showed itself briefly. It was around noon. After nearly two dozen full fish basket throws, the dragon raised its head and huffed at him. Realising it was full (and wanting to avoid the blasts of fishy breath) he undid the trap, fed it the last few fish it had caught and cautiously leaned over the edge so he was perched on its snout. Then he lowered himself down a little further so he was firmly seated on the hard, scaly crests that looked like triangular ears.

"Does this make me a dragon rider?" He wondered aloud, making the dragon chuff in what he recognised as amusement. However, the chuff made him lose his seat for a moment and he dropped the fish basket in order to cling with both arms. "Guess not."

The dragon lowered its head and he slid off and onto the solid ground. He couldn't wait to tell his sisters when he got back to Ansel. They wouldn't believe him, but that made the fact it was true all the more better.

He put on the equipment he had shed earlier and sheathed his sword after wiping it clean of dirt and sand, having left it buried in the ground from earlier. Then he picked up the dragon scale and tucked it inside his breastplate. Tucking his helmet under one arm, he turned to the dragon, who had cocked its head and was watching him curiously.

"I cannot thank you enough for your help. You've given me a chance at living a normal life again, and for that I owe you a life debt." Jaune told it sincerely. "I won't tell the others where you are, and I can only ask you don't plunder and stuff. Anyway, I wish you nothing but the best in life."

He turned to leave, content he'd gotten all he needed to say off his chest. Then a thick, long tail slammed onto the ground in front of him, making him drop his helmet with shock and stumble slightly as the earth itself trembled.

He resisted the urge to cry. He had a feeling it had been too easy.

/#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/

Rage. That was what she felt. Rage and a possessive, jealous fury.

It was animalistic. Instinctive. Her body had acted of its own accord, and as Jaune Arc turned to face her with fearful eyes she felt nothing but guilt and shame.

She tried to reassure him, and in the absence of a human body what would have been words came out as a low, trilling coo. It did little to reassure him. She cursed her mother, her draconic blood that sought to dominate and take without regard. She would not be a monster like her mother, but how could she make Jaune realise this?

Decision time. What was she going to do? What could she do? She had little strength and no desire to be like her mother, to force herself on an unwilling man, even if the draconic side of her demanded it in order to show her power and strength over a potential mate. She ignored that part as best she could.

She couldn't lose him. He was the first glimpse of kindness in what felt like millennia. She thought quickly.

Did she have the strength? Maybe. And it would be easier to survive as a human, especially with the aid of Jaune and the friends he had mentioned, than it would be to survive as a wounded, still hungry and universally hated dragon.

The meagre food he'd given her should be enough. She hoped it was enough. She closed her eyes, and she concentrated.

She was a being of energy. She didn't know if it was magic. She did not know if it was given by gods or devils or anything else. All she knew was that she was energy. And that the energy could be moulded in three different ways.

Armour, a big body with leathery wings, thick scales and lungs specially built to decimate with fire. Teeth capable of penetrating the thickest metal and claws sharp enough to rend and tear the walls of great cities. An insurmountable strength limited by the animalistic rage that came with it.

Infiltrator, a soft, supple body that was far weaker than her Armour but infinitely stronger than most humans. It had been awhile since she used this, so she had no idea what she would look like.

Fire, something that remained with her at all times, whether Armoured or Infiltrated. It was the hallmark of her species' power, and could devastate armies if used correctly by an experienced warrior.

She closed her eyes and concentrated. Her body heated up. The muscles and fibres melted and morphed. The bones cracked and snapped and reformed as her body changed, growing smaller and smaller and softer and softer.

She wouldn't steal him. She wouldn't lock him away and confine him to a lonely, solitary life, hated by his kind and hunted by her own to inflict pain on her.

But no one said she couldn't go with him.

/#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/

'This is how I'm going to die.' He couldn't help but think, turning around to face the dragon that blocked his path. The tentative trust he'd felt was broken, and he could only hope it ended him quickly.

It didn't. It began to glow. Then creak and crack and shrink.

He could only watch, spellbound, even as its light burned his eyes, as what was once a dragon shrunk into a glowing, orange and vaguely humanoid thing.

Then the light faded, making him blink as orange spots danced around his vision. He closed his eyes for a few moments, then opened them. Then he blinked.

Then he blinked again.

Then he blinked one more time for good measure.

He stared in shock. Instead of a massive, fire breathing monster there was a girl, a woman, a her! She was lounging on a rock, hip cocked and one hand resting on it. She had long, luscious hair the same colour as her scales and lilac eyes that were filled with emotion, mirth chief among them. Her body was littered with small scars and she had muscles and a stomach so defined he was absolutely certain it could cut steel. There was also a very noticeable lack of clothing protecting her body, and Jaune quickly diverted his eyes so he saw nothing but her eyes, where her own lilac ones met his, glimmering with mischievous humour.

Had he died and gone to the Otherworld? Was this a reward or a punishment?

"Hello Jaune Arc." The dragon, the woman, the being said, voice hoarse with lack of use but clearly filled with humour and confidence as it smirked at him. "I'm Yang. Yang Xiao Long."