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The full moon came too quickly.
It always does, but since the days have shortened, it seems the last time he had to say goodbye was only yesterday. Now it’s back again.
Shouto watched the sun set over the horizon in the middle of the afternoon, alone before either of them had the chance to eat dinner. They’d been careless this time, too busy to forget that they would lose hours just by enjoying the season.
He can hear the celebrations from here. Pyres dot the city below, and the smell of charred meats and spiced wine fills his nose all the way from the balcony. The solstice festival will last for two weeks, so they won’t necessarily miss it, but still there’s an ache in his chest knowing how much Eijirou wanted to be here. He’s been talking about how much he’ll be able to eat all month.
Shouto looks up at the moon hovering just above the peak of the mountain and huffs out until his breath comes out in a cloud around his lips. It’s too cold for this, and he’s too impatient.
He turns back toward their room and grabs his riding cloak for an extra layer of warmth, a heavy sack for the journey, and an unlit lantern to carry with him. Tonight will be the longest night of the year, and it will also be the longest full moon. He won’t waste any more of it here.
After a quick stop in the city below, Shouto slips out of the gates towards the mountain without a horse or guard. He won’t need either where he’s going.
He holds his lantern out with one arm and flicks his wrist of his other hand until fire glows within, and he ventures into the dark where no beast or bandit waits.
It’s a cold night. He should hurry.
There are steps carved out along the trail, pieces of rock and stone shoved into the ground and smoothed down thousands of years before, and Shouto’s feet never slip as he ascends them.
This place is ancient, sacred in its purpose, and Shouto has climbed these steps willingly for centuries, although he knows he isn’t supposed to, but no one here or who ever has been has ever had the power of mind to stop him. Shouto has never used his powers to hurt people, but the fact that he could seems to be enough for anyone who might care to leave him alone.
But the truth is he belongs on his mountain because Eijirou is here, and Shouto belongs where he is. That he won’t allow to be questioned.
It must take an hour to reach the top, and although his lungs burn from the walk, he can’t say that he’s tired. If anything he’s just more eager to get to the cave waiting for him at the top.
The entrance itself is narrow, just wide enough for a single person to pass through, and Shouto holds his breath as he sidesteps through it, careful not to drop his bag or lantern.
He continues like this until the cave widens past the mouth, and he walks normally as the lantern light flickers against the frozen walls inside. He frowns. Ice and snow don’t bother him, but that’s only due to his elven ancestry. Eijirou might not be comfortable out here. His steps quicken as he weaves towards the largest part of the cave.
There.
Light.
Shouto steps from the winding dark into a large expanse where a hidden forest grows, and a frozen lake reflects the perfect visage of the moon above, its light beaming down on all inside. Humans aren’t allowed here, and technically elves aren’t either, but Shouto is.
Because this is the domain of his husband, and Shouto has been recognized by the garden as Eijirou’s mate since they were children.
He doesn’t see Eijirou’s dragon form at first, so he walks around the outer edge, keeping his eyes open for the first sign of red in this otherwise verdant haven.
It’s the tail that reveals itself first, tapping lightly against the grass and curling around past one of the trees and a large natural stone wall, mirroring the harsh edges composed all over the slopes of the mountain.
Shouto hears a low rumble followed by a chirped whistle, and he smiles to himself. Asleep this early in the night? He should be ashamed of himself.
He walks towards the tail, following it around the tree until he sees Eijirou resting his head on his front paws and sleeping off his recent transformation.
Of course Eijirou can move between his dragon form and his mortal likeness freely whenever he wants, but every full moon, he must answer the call of his dragon’s blood and live in this form until the sun rises again.
This place serves as his brood where he was first hatched and where he chooses to take these transformations, and it’s why Shouto can come and go as he pleases. His friends could try, sure, and he would love them to be here, but the spirit keepers, guardians, and sprites would chase them off.
Shouto sets down his things and kneels down next to Eijirou’s larger dragon head so he doesn’t startle him. He runs his fingers down the bridge of his snout, noting how cool and smooth the scales are here compared to the jagged horns down his spine.
“Eijirou,” he says, and two large red eyes blink open, black slits narrow at the interruption, but when he sees that it’s only Shouto, his pupils enlarge like a kitten’s.
He can’t speak in this form, and Shouto rarely speaks at all, but the affection is still there. Shouto leans down to place his nose against his snout, a gesture more familiar for dragons than elves, but Shouto has come to love the dragon ways more than his own.
Eijirou stands up on his four limbs and stretches out his wings as far as they can reach, and Shouto watches him from his place on his knees before him. He is larger than a building, and it’s one of the reasons he prefers to spend his moons here than at home in the castle, although Shouto would have a special place built for him if he ever wanted.
But he can see why he prefers this over the masonry and glasswork below. This is a dragon’s home.
“I brought you something,” he says and stands up to retrieve his travel sack, keeping his back to Eijirou to not spoil the surprise. Heavy footsteps follow him, and a puff of hot breath passes through his hair before the dragon head slides over his shoulder. “No peeking.”
Eijirou whines softly and nuzzles him innocently, refusing to move away, and Shouto smiles to himself and reaches into his bag until he finds what he brought.
He pulls it out by the bone, unsheathing the unnaturally large turkey leg he purchased below the way he might unsheathe a sword. Eijirou snorts with interest and sits back, and Shouto turns and holds up his treat between them.
“I won’t let you miss the first feast,” he says, earning another low snort as if Eijirou is trying to tell him that it wasn’t that important, which they both know it was. “You’ve waited all year.”
He shakes his head from side to side, and Shouto holds back a smile.
“You don’t want it then? I’ll keep it.”
Eijirou bites down onto the turkey leg and jerks it away, stomping around in a large circle before settling back down in the grass to tear at the meat with his giant fangs like one of the hounds. His mortal form eats this way too, but Shouto has never once pointed it out.
He waits patiently and fondly as Eijirou chews his turkey leg down to the bone and turns his head away for the inevitable crunch that didn’t bother him before he saw him fight an ettin about three hundred years ago.
Shouto gives him another and one more after that, all he could carry with him on his climb, but Eijirou eats happily and well. It’s nice that even here they still get to celebrate.
“I will stay with you tonight,” he says, earning a rough grunt. “It’s not too cold for me, and I don’t like leaving you here.”
Eijirou nudges him fondly with his snout, and Shouto pets him along his jowls.
“You’ll get lonely,” he says. “Don’t deny it.”
Eijirou nudges him again, and Shouto exhales a deep breath. He wishes he could hear him speak. For all their lives he has heard him talk about every thought that has ever passed through his head, always cheerful and full of so much life and passion. His praises always come from truth, and his criticism always comes with care. Every word he has ever spoken to him is more precious than gold, and now Shouto must speak enough for both of them.
“I’m sorry I woke you,” he says, and this time the resulting snort comes out almost annoyed with him. Shouto smiles at that. “You looked peaceful.”
Eijirou stands up with another stretch, spreading his wings farther than any room in the castle could hold and flapping them once, sending a gust of cold air through Shouto’s robes and knocking out the pin holding his hair in place.
It flows behind his back, and he doesn’t bother stopping it, knowing how much Eijirou prefers him like this, although his claws won’t feel as nice running through it as his fingers do.
And then Eijirou stomps around again until his back faces Shouto, and he lowers himself with his wings spread wide.
Oh.
He doesn’t have to speak for Shouto to know exactly what this means.
He approaches him and mutters an apology before digging his boot between a cluster of raised scales, even if Eijirou swears he barely feels it.
He hoists himself up his back, grabbing the horns to pull and anchor himself, and once he can get his legs on either side, he settles in between Eijirou’s shoulder blades. This is a place he has been thousands of times before.
Shouto doesn’t have to say he’s ready. Eijirou pushes off the ground with a hop and flaps his wings, lifting them high above the gardens towards the opening and the moon itself above.
Yes this cave may exist as a home for a dragon, but it is no cage for one.
Eijirou lifts them high above the mountain and swoops towards the city and castle below. The people still celebrate the solstice with their snacks and songs, but this is how he and Eijirou will.
Shouto holds on, breathing in the frigid air into his lungs, higher than even smoke can reach, and he leans forward to rest his cheek on his companion.
A dragon choosing to mate with an elf may have been unusual to some, but for Shouto there was never another option. Eijirou hatched first, and Shouto was born only a season later, and his own mother had touched Eijirou’s egg, blessing it with the Gift of Winter, not knowing that she herself would soon bear another child.
Shouto’s father blessed the egg too, the Gift of Summer, and Eijirou’s parents asked him to bathe it in fire, a ceremony only shared among the dragons, but there were no other dragons in this part of the world to do so.
This flame is one they share.
Eijirou dives lower towards the festival below, and Shouto closes his eyes with a smile as he screeches out a fireball, flying right through it because it can’t burn either of them.
The people below cheer for them, clapping and shouting in delight as the dragon they all adore half as much as Shouto does paints the sky a vibrant orange.
Shouto raises his arm and follows with a thin flaming trail like a ribbon that he snaps away with a flourish. The people below cheer for him too.
Eijirou swoops over them again before the ear piercing screech rips through his mouth, and another ball of fire shoots out into the sky.
They’re too far to actually burn anything, but just close enough to give everyone who sees them a show. Shouto can feel how happy Eijirou is, that he got to participate in this way, and it makes Shouto happy too.
He could spend forever up here in the air with him, not even looking at the world below but with his eyes closed as he feels the wind whip through his clothes and Eijirou’s delighted dragon cries echoing against the trees.
Shouto relaxes against his back, his arms dangling from either side as Eijirou coasts from one end to the city to the other, blowing out his balls of fire for the crowd’s enjoyment.
Yes, this is perfect. This was the celebration both of them needed, and Shouto is happy he could share this moment with him.
The sound of Eijirou’s wings beat softly in the air as he begins to coast at a lazy pace over the world below.
The sky is a special place for them. No one else can come here, and Eijirou has never let anyone but Shouto ride on his back, and Shouto knows that no matter what, Eijirou will never let him drop.
He exhales a peaceful breath and rests here as he’s practically rocked to sleep just beneath the moonlight. Shouto pets the scales and dragonhide, and he hears a soft rumble come from deep within Eijirou’s chest.
He’s lost count of the centuries they’ve had together, time itself meaningless to both elves and dragons, but he knows that he has consistently loved him for all of them. That won’t change in all the centuries they have left.
Sometimes he wishes they could stay up here forever.
Shouto never feels himself fall asleep, drifting easily as Eijirou soars until he slips into a dream, never having to worry about being dropped even from this height.
Even his dreams are gentle here, and sure some might wonder how he could fall asleep while riding on a dragon’s back, a privilege he has been told others envy, but it’s the same to him as falling asleep in his companion’s arms—terrifying at first but now as natural as breathing.
He dreams of warmer days with Eijirou in his mortal form napping on the grass with his bare back soaking in the sun, and he sits next to him, plucking out the dandelions growing at his knees.
Shouto looks up and sees a deer with infinite antlers, and as it lowers its head, snow begins to fall, and Shouto can only guess that this is an omen that signals the birth of spring.
He reaches to wake Eijirou, touching his sun-warmed shoulder so he can see this too, but the deer is gone before he ever lifts his head, like this vision itself was a secret meant only for Shouto.
When Shouto opens his eyes, he’s back in a bed of grass with his head resting on a heavy dragon’s arm, tucked away safely in one of Eijirou’s wings.
Snow falls lightly from above, but what catches his attention are the little wisps of light floating around the dragon’s garden, spirit orbs the color of moonlight meant to watch over the dragon inside.
Being an elf he’s familiar with natural spirits, but this space is still sacred to a dragon. He is a guest here, and as a guest, many of the wonders here will always be hidden from him. Tonight the spirits seem content to let him see this place as it is.
He turns on the ground toward Eijirou and closes his eyes again and wonders if he should tell him that the wisps finally revealed themselves to him after all these centuries or if he should keep that a secret too.
Although he imagines knowing will make Eijirou happy enough to cry, so perhaps he will tell him in the morning. He won’t wake him now though.
Shouto runs his fingers along the smooth dragon scales until he falls back asleep, too tired to stay up any longer in such a peaceful place.
The next morning he’s awoken again by the feeling of something shuffling over him, and he opens his eyes to a very naked and mortal appearing Eijirou, shoulder length black hair a tangled mess from his transformations.
Eijirou pushes himself up, red eyes soft from sleep, and the sunlight above catches the flecks of fire red scales dotting his shoulders and arms. Shouto blinks a few times at the morning light, and Eijirou smiles at him with his perfectly pointed teeth that match the points of his ears.
His walking form, although always draconic, appears as an elf like Shouto is and not a human, which has always warmed Shouto deep inside his chest. He’s not sure if it has to do with the elven fire magic that blessed his egg or if Eijirou himself chooses this, but either way, it is a sure sign of their eternal companionship.
“Hi,” he says, and Shouto mumbles a greeting. “I thought you weren’t coming.”
“You left earlier than usual,” he says. “I always come.”
“I didn’t want to get caught before I could get inside the cave.”
Shouto nods in understanding. “Was it alright?”
“It took longer than I’m used to,” he says. “I must be getting old.”
“Dragons don’t age.”
Eijirou laughs. “I know, I’m joking.”
Shouto‘s frown softens. “I see.”
“Flying above everyone was fun,” he says. “No one seemed afraid of me.”
“That’s because no one is afraid of you,” he says.
“I know, but–. I don’t want to give them a reason to be.”
“You protect them, and you are kind,” he says. “They were happy to see you.”
“Do you think it will be okay for me to fly around more? Stay a dragon when it’s not needed? You know, so my moon transformations will be easy again.”
Shouto reaches up and touches his cheek. “You should be a dragon whenever you want to be.”
Eijirou smiles down at him, soft and warm, and Shouto can’t say that even after all these years, it still doesn't fluster him. “Will you fly with me?”
“It is my preferred way to travel,” he says, and Eijirou laughs brightly. “Did you bring any pants with you.”
Eijirou pauses, his eyes widening in horror, and Shouto waits patiently for a response. “Did… you… bring any pants with you?”
Shouto shakes his head. “I only brought turkey legs.”
Eijirou sits up and scratches his jaw. “Well that’s going to be an interesting walk back.”
“Do you want to fly,” Shouto asks, and Eijirou’s eyes widen. “We can fly back down to the castle in your dragon form, and I will retrieve your clothes for you.”
“What if I want to stay a dragon for the day?”
“I will carry them in my bag with me,” he says. “And if you don’t want to turn back, we can sleep here again.”
Eijirou smiles softly. “I’ll miss talking to you.”
“Yes, I do miss that part,” he says. “You are better at speaking than I am.”
“No, I’m not,” he laughs. “I just can’t shut up.”
“That may be true,” he says fondly, and Eijirou laughs again.
“You won’t mind sleeping here?”
Shouto shakes his head. “I like being in this place. I’m glad it allows me to be here.”
“You’re welcome here even without me, you know,” he says. “The guardians like you. They ask me where my pretty elf is every time I come.”
Shouto smiles at that. “I saw the wisps last night.”
“You did?” Eijirou’s eyes widen. “I wish I could have seen them with you.”
“Don’t you see them often?”
Eijirou shakes his head. “No, not really.”
“Hmm.”
“The whole garden must like my pretty elf,” he says. “I picked a good mate.”
“I was so sure when you first called me that that it meant I was going to be a dragon too,” he says, and Eijirou laughs brightly.
“You can make fire with your hands, and you can fly on my back whenever you want,” he says. “You’re a dragon to me.”
Shouto hums, content. He likes that sentiment.
Eijirou leans down and gives him his first kiss since the sun was up yesterday, and Shouto wonders if it might be his last for a while, a small sacrifice for Eijirou to stretch his wings a little longer. “We should get breakfast.”
“Yes, I’m hungry too.”
Shouto gets up and steps to the side to give Eijirou room, and he watches as the scales ripple over his flesh, and two giant wings appear at his bag, springing out like blooms before Eijirou cries out, his dragon blood boiling beneath the skin in a way that hurts only for a moment.
He turns again, a transformation that only Shouto and other dragons are allowed to see, and once he returns to his form, Shouto approaches and returns the kiss on the corner of his mouth.
Eijirou rumbles softly and lowers himself for him, and Shouto grabs his things before hoisting himself up on his back once more.
They will fly down together, landing in a nearby field, and Shouto will find Eijirou some clothes and hopefully enough meat to satisfy a dragon for breakfast, and then perhaps they will fly again, roam the skies until the sun sets, and then Eijirou will get to join the festival as either dragon or elf, whichever form makes him the happiness.
And Shouto will be at his side either way, just as he always has been.