Chapter Text
Miranda had spent four-thousand, one-hundred and ninety-six nights gazing up at the moon, alone in the stillness of nocturnal air.
Well. Not alone. Not completely. She had the company of her daughters - her beautiful daughters - and of Nigel, Emily, and Serena.
But she did not have a mate, not anymore, and in no world had she ever had cause to imagine that would change. For how could it?
She certainly had never imagined that not only would that change, but her mate would arrive in the form of a gangly, young human woman.
But Caroline had spirited away a runaway, the same one who was responsible for her very life, and the blinking night sky that had been devoid of all but stars for so long had bestowed a great gift on Miranda.
Although the young human woman was no longer human, but sprawled in front of them all as one of them, a resplendent dragon covered in rich chocolate scales, eyes as resolutely doe-ish as ever, sparkling with relieved confusion at the situation.
The situation in question being her summary dispatching of the human army who had wished death upon them all.
And sprawled on account of Miranda all but throwing herself at her.
***
Lesson 1 - Proper Transformations:
They had lain there for a little while, intertwined in the midst of the carnage, the others politely looking away. But they could not stay there forever, and so it was with a reluctant grunt that Miranda stumbled to her feet and transformed back into a human. While she had harbored severe misgivings about allowing any human male to continue to breathe air in her domain, for Douglas she would make an exception. If he continued to occupy Nigel's attention, that was good enough for her.
She smiled back at Andrea, who blinked up at her reproachfully, as if the disentanglement of their bodies constituted some sort of insult.
Miranda waited - for her, patiently, for anyone else, impatiently - for Andrea to turn back herself.
"Andrea?"
"Um," came the sheepish reply. "I think I'm stuck."
"Stuck? Whatever do you mean?" she asked incredulously.
"How do I get back?"
And that was the first sign of the impending tribulations Miranda was to be subjected to.
Namely, that Andrea may now technically be a dragon, but she had no knowledge of how to command her form. And the poor unfortunate soul who the mantle of teacher fell upon?
Miranda, of course.
***
"Concentrate," she said, squatting down to position herself at eye level with her mate. "Concentrate. Think about your body turning back into a human one. Visualise it, and will it, then hold on fast to the energy you will feel."
Miranda thought herself to have been wonderfully clear in her instructions. Alas, five seconds later, she grimly reconciled herself to the fact that she may have been mistaken.
For Andrea had, somehow, managed to will herself into being - somehow, miraculously - even more 'stuck'.
Behind her, she heard a stiftled snort from Emily.
"What on earth - "
" - Go and find my daughter, Emily. Shoo."
Suitably chastened, Emily's footsteps retreated into the forest.
Yet while Miranda would tolerate no criticism of Andrea, she had to admit that the redhead had a point.
"Andrea," she sighed. "What did you do?"
"What you told me to!" came the indignant exclamation. "I thought about parts of my body turning back, and - and then this happened!"
"Parts of your body," Miranda repeated weakly. "That would explain" - she waved a hand in Andrea's direction - "this."
'This' being the young woman's current appearance. Scales covered her right arm and left leg, her huge tail trailing behind her back - but she was otherwise human. Save for the wisps of smoke curling out of her nostrils with each breath, that was.
Oh, and the pointed ears. They were decidedly draconic in character.
"Um, Miranda? A little help, please?"
The silver haired woman sighed, but did as she was asked.
***
Lesson 2 - Appropriate Pronunciation
With the exception of when Douglas was included in the conversation, Miranda's family had taken to conversing in a fluent mixture of English and draconic language.
This had some benefits. Specifically, getting to hear her mate's voice form the shapes and sounds indelibly associated with the true nature of Miranda's own soul. It warmed her heart every time she heard it.
It also had some drawbacks. Primarily, the fact that Andrea pronounced her name in a particular way. A very particular way. A way, in fact, which warmed parts of her body not limited to her heart, and parts of her body which she would rather not grow warm in public company.
"...and I just thought to myself, Miranda would -"
Andrea petered off in confusion as Emily and Serena giggled. Her brow furrowed in confusion as she peered behind them and saw Nigel and Doug covering the twins' ears.
"What?" she said defensively. "Did I say something wrong?"
Miranda allowed the breath she hadn't even noticed she was holding to issue out of her mouth in a whoosh.
"No," she said, and it did not escape her that her own voice sounded notably more strangled than usual. "No, darling, not exactly. It's just…the way you say my name…"
"What about it?" Andrea asked, evidently perplexed. "I know it's a bit different to how everyone else says it, but you pronounce my name in a unique way, too. I just thought I'd do the same. What? Don't you like it?"
If only she knew…
Miranda bit the inside of her cheek to suppress a wholly uncharacteristic giggle. Instead, she schooled her features into something hopefully reasonably calm, and replied, "I - I do like it. It is merely - a word? Privately?"
Her mate nodded, clearly concerned. When they had retreated to a secluded portion of the caves, she glanced down (for she was just a smidgeon taller than Miranda, which the older woman would never admit to rather liking) anxiously.
"Did I say something wrong?"
"On the contrary," Miranda said. "Not at all. But the way you pronounce my name, in our language rather than in English…it is a question of accent."
"Accent?"
"Yes. I have no doubt this is not what you intended, but you say Miranda in what is our equivalent of the way one vocalises names during the climax of mating."
The girl's cheeks flushed bright red. "You - you mean - "
" - Your unique pronunciation is indisputably erotic, yes."
"Ah. Oh. Oh, God, I - I'm sorry! I won't pronounce it like that again."
Miranda reeled back, offended. "Well. Don't be too hasty. I never said I objected to it per se. Just reserve it for when we are… alone."
Andrea nodded furiously, still blushing. "Yes. Yes. Loud and clear, loud and clear." Then her eyes widened.
"I've not said anyone else's name like that, have I?"
"Goodness, no!" Miranda exclaimed, scandalised. "I would have put a stop to it far sooner if you had."
"Thank God for that."
"Indeed. Now, given that we are, in fact, presently alone, I would like you to say my name again. I would like it very much. If you are amenable…"
"Yes, Miranda."
"Mmm. Yes, Andrea. Just like that."
"Miranda, what about my name? Is there an equivalent for that?"
"Oh, yes. Oh, yes."
***
Lesson 3 - Taking Flight
"No, no. That's far too high!"
Miranda glared at Emily, her ire due to the redhead suggesting a remarkably lofty perch for Andrea to attempt her first flight from.
"Emily," she hissed. "I have somehow - against all the odds - found someone worth committing myself to, and who is insane enough to deem me worth committing to herself, and your brilliant idea is to encourage her to throw herself off the cliffs?"
"She's got wings now!" Emily protested, and Miranda wondered when on earth Emily had developed the ability to talk back to her. She'd wager it either had something to do with Serena not mating with her properly (although she doubted it) or the more likely probability, which was that Miranda herself had behaved in such an embarrasingly…soft manner with Andrea publicly that her imperious aura had dimmed.
In either case, it was unacceptable.
"That she may have," Miranda replied smoothly, "but she does not yet have full control over them."
And that was true. The day before, Andrea had valiantly attempted to take flight, and promptly performed a ritual almost exclusively seen in the clumsier sort of baby dragons.
I.e., managing three wonky airbone flaps of her wings before barrel-rolling, tumbling, and crashing snout-first into a nearby blueberry bush.
(Not that Miranda had enjoyed licking the fruit smears off of her after pulling her out of the foliage by her haunches. No, not at all.)
So to suggest she brave a hundred-foot drop -
"Sorry, Miranda, but I wasn't here when she tried!"
That, Miranda reluctantly admitted to herself, was true. Emily had not borne witness to any of that - thankfully.
"Miranda," came a lower, male voice behind her.
"Douglas," she said. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"If this is about the whole Andy flying thing, I think she just needs the proper motivation."
"And what do you suggest?" she asked.
"Uh." He scratched the back of his neck, looking rather sheepish. "Um, she might have mentioned once or twice how she'd love to carry you around."
Huh. Perhaps Nigel did not have the worst taste in mates, after all.
"Did she now?"
"Yes."
It transpired that Douglas was correct. Upon Miranda promising that as soon as she mastered flight - something involving rigorous daily lessons and supplementary practice - Andrea would be permitted to have Miranda ride on her back as a human - her mate become highly, highly interested in learning fast.
***
Lesson 4 - Wing Maintenance
"Andrea!" Miranda called.
"Huh?" came the muffled reply, followed by a gorgeous chocolate head lifting out of yet more blueberry bushes.
By now, Andrea had learned not to crash into any more foliage. However, her mate had also learned that she harbored a distinct taste for fruit, and so had taken to diving into them deliberately and enthusiastically.
This only had one side effect…
"Andrea, your wings! They're covered in…you'll attract flies!"
"That's terribly rude, you know," Andrea laughed, shaking some of the berry leaves off. "Especially if you don't intend to help me do anything about it."
"Oh, no," Miranda growled. "I intend very much to do something about it."
Ten minutes later, Miranda had attended to her mate's face, neck and back with meticulous precision, applying the concoction that Andrea had originally used on her. There was only one area left in need of cleaning.
Her wings.
Miranda gulped, knowing that she would imminently face some rather interesting questions.
As ever, she was right.
A mere half-minute into proceedings, it became thoroughly clear just what sensations wing stimulation evoked. Her mate's body trembled, and then Andrea's head swivelled around to behold her with utter incredulity, beholding Miranda with an explicitly accusatory stare. For her part, Miranda had the good graces to look somewhat ashamed, a little guilty.
"You absolute scoundrel, Miranda!" Andrea breathed. "When I did this to you - you - you didn't tell me that I'd offered to engage in the early steps of mating with you!"
Miranda licked her lips sheepishly. "At least I'm returning the favour now, no?" she offered weakly.
"You're impossible," Andrea replied. "Now. Keep that up, please."
"Yes…what was it you said early on? That you addressed me by?" Miranda replied. Then it came to her. "Oh yes."
She smirked. "Yes, Ma'am."
Andrea shivered. Miranda stored away that exceptionally useful knowledge for future reference - and definitely future use.
***
Lesson 5 - Firebreathing (and a lesson in return from Andrea, too)
"Oh, no!" Caroline exclaimed. "Those were some of my favorite scratching trees!"
'Were' being the operative word, given what she was staring at was now little more than three large piles of ash.
"Sorry," Andrea muttered. "I'm not very good at controlling it."
'It' was her fire. The present situation, after all, had arisen from Andrea's contraction of the hiccups while in her dragon form, and subsequent emission of blazing flame in any direction she turned her head.
"More lessons," Miranda intoned, "I believe, are in order."
It seemed rational to indulge her own penchant for efficiency. Therefore, she brought Andrea to the outskirts of a nearby village.
(Or rather, Andrea had brought her, given she had disgustingly meagre abilities to resist her mate's imploring pleas to be allowed to carry her there on her back.)
"While we are here," Miranda said, "you can breathe fire with impunity."
"But it's a village!" Andrea replied. "I don't want to accidentally - you know."
"I most assuredly do not," Miranda muttered. "You cannot possibly be referring to humans."
Andrea bit her lip, and the older woman thought that most unfair, because every time the girl did that particular motion, Miranda could not help but think how much better it would be if she was biting Miranda herself instead - and Andrea knew it.
"I - I get cooking the crueller men. You know that. But I couldn't hurt women or children. Especially not children."
Miranda sniffed. "I'm not going to pretend I completely understand your moral framework, because I do not, but I suppose I can accept your penchant for sparing children as at least a matter of consistency."
Andrea smiled, and Miranda privately admitted that she herself would stop indiscriminately targeting humans if it meant she got to see that expression as a reward.
Speaking of humans, it was not long (only long enough for Andrea to practice her aim on a herd of goats) before a flurry of activity at one of the houses near the very edge of the settlement caught the two dragonesses' attention.
Two young girls, around the same age as their own daughters (for Caroline and Cassidy had solemnly taken to addressing Andrea as 'Mama', a title which Miranda had absolutely, definitely not shed a tear - or ten - upon hearing).
Miranda sensed out of her peripheral vision that Andrea's hackles had raised in tandem with her own. This was immensely justified, in her view, for the girls were not alone, but cowered under the raised hand - and belt - of an older human man, red-faced, paunchy and clearly intoxicated. Andrea's eyes fluttered shut, as if she could not bear to witness the point at which impact was made. Miranda kept watching, stock-still and steely-eyed.
When her mate's eyes cracked open once more, it was to watch as the door was slammed behind the girls, a few meagre scraps of bread - clearly their dinner - being thrown out just before it closed. But the children did not make to eat their scarce provisions, or at least not all of it. Instead, they split it in halves, and gingerly made their way down one of the paths to where a few stray dogs lay in the still-blistering summer evening heat, before offering it to the animals.
Andrea's lips pursed. She was clearly thinking about something. Miranda knew better than to question what it was before an explanation was offered to her. Once upon a time, she might have demanded one, but that was before, and this was now.
"Wait here, Miranda," Andrea murmured. Miranda swallowed her burning curiosity and perched back on her haunches.
She observed as Andrea shifted into her human guise and made her way over to the girls, crouching down and speaking to them, petting a few of the dogs as she went. Whatever she was saying, they appeared at once cautious and receptive.
Miranda had not expected Andrea to shift back in full view of two humans, small and relatively helpless though they were. But that was precisely what occured.
To their credit, the girls did not scream, although they did stiffen. Yet whatever Andrea had said had clearly taken root, or at least assuaged their fears enough to persuade them to shakily climb up on her back. Andrea soared into the air, chirping at Miranda to follow suit.
As they flew along back in the direction of the caves, human children in tow, clinging to Andrea's back, Miranda stared.
"Andrea?"
"They weren't happy there. Their lives would have been miserable. They had the same look in their eyes as I saw in the mirror for years. And don't you think Caroline and Cassidy would like some friends of their own age? They deserve it, they really do."
It was a pity they were flying, because it meant Miranda had to suppress the urge to leap upon her, such was the heady wave of affection - of love - that suffused throughout her entire being.
She had thought Andrea had much to learn from her, but perhaps she had quite a few things to learn from Andrea.
Miranda had loved her first mate, she really had. But if he had been a red-hot spark, Andrea was a blazing inferno.
She loved her far, far more.
FIN