The shadows of the Stardust Garden lengthened as the amber veil of twilight surrendered to the deepening indigo of night.
While Lili drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep.....no doubt exhausted by the day's eccentricities...Draco and Riveria found themselves locked in a final, lingering discussion. Time, which usually stood still in the tranquil corners of the Bahamut Familia's home, had slipped through their fingers.
In what felt like the mere blink of an eye, the stars had claimed their places in the heavens.
It was finally time for the visitors from the Loki Familia to depart.
At the wrought-iron gates of the garden, a peculiar sight unfolded.
Riveria, the high elf whose name commanded respect across the entirety of Orario, was currently engaged in a subtle tug-of-war.
Beside her stood Ais, the "Sword Princess," who, for reasons known only to herself, looked as though she had been rooted to the spot.
Her golden eyes were fixed on the garden path, her expression a mask of quiet, unyielding reluctance.
"Ais," Riveria said, her voice a mix of maternal patience and the weariness of a long day.
"We have stayed far longer than intended. Finn will already be wondering if we've been abducted by dragons."
Ais didn't move.
She shifted her weight, her gaze flickering toward the house roof.
For reasons she couldn't quite articulate, the air here felt different…..lighter, perhaps.
She wanted to stay, to observe, to perhaps understand the strange, magnetic rhythm of the Bahamut Familia for just a little longer.
But under Riveria's firm, guiding hand, her silent protest began to crumble.
Riveria had never intended for this to be a day-long affair.
She had arrived that morning with a notebook full of negotiation points, deals, and a few pointed questions regarding a specific family member.
It was meant to be a brief exchange of information between two influential familia's.
Yet, Orario was never a city of simple plans.
Between the strange, domestic "emergencies" that had popped up, the unexpected bouts of laughter, and the way the time seemed to warp around Draco's presence, her schedule had been utterly dismantled.
Oddly enough, as she felt the cool night air settle over her shoulders, Riveria realized she didn't regret a single wasted hour.
As an executive of the Loki Familia, Riveria's life was a relentless cycle of work, training, and political maneuvering.
But today had been different.
It had been chaotic, yes…..the Bahamut Familia seemed to attract chaos like a lodestone…..but it was a "chill" chaos.
She had eaten food that was homemade; she had drunk tea that wasn't served at a formal meeting; and she had talked about things that catered to her personal interests.
The relaxed atmosphere, the pervasive scent of blooming jasmine and damp earth, the way the wind whispered through the eaves of the house...it all felt dizzyingly familiar.
It stirred a dormant ache in her heart, a memory of the Loki Familia from years ago, before they were a titan of the city.
Back then, they were smaller, louder, and less guarded.
As they grew in strength and numbers, the walls had become thicker, the protocol stiffer.
Today, in this garden, she had caught a glimpse of that lost intimacy.
Shaking herself free from the clutches of nostalgia, Riveria adjusted her posture, her expression snapping back into its usual stern, regal mask.
She realized that if she didn't take charge, they would still be standing at the gate by sunrise. With a decisive movement, she pulled Ais along.
When the Sword Princess still hesitated, Riveria bypassed further negotiation, essentially hoisting the younger girl into a position that resembled a sack of potatoes slung over a shoulder.
High above them, perched on the edge of the roof tiles, Draco watched the scene with a grin that could only be described as predatory.
Beside him, Chloe stood with her arms crossed, her eyes narrowed at the spectacle below.
Draco raised a hand, waving enthusiastically as the two figures retreated into the night.
"Don't be a stranger, Ais! I'll make sure to beat you up slightly less next time you decide to come over!" he shouted, his voice carrying through the quiet street.
Ais, hanging precariously over Riveria's shoulder, let out a faint, muffled sound of indignation, her boots kicking uselessly in the air.
"How childish," Chloe muttered, her voice barely a whisper.
She shook her head in visible exasperation, her cat-like ears twitching with annoyance at Draco's antics.
"I heard that, you know," Draco said, turning his head with a smirk.
But when he looked, the spot beside him was empty.
Chloe had vanished, leaving him alone with the moonlight.
"Hopefully she warms up to everyone soon," Draco murmured to himself, his smile softening into something more genuine.
"She's a tough nut to crack, but she's a good person."
He shifted his position, lying back against the cool, slanted roof tiles.
The ceramic surface felt smooth beneath his palms, and he let out a long, contented sigh.
Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to bask in the silver glow of the moon.
It was one of those rare nights where Orario felt peaceful, the roar of the city dampened to a distant, rhythmic hum.
A cool night breeze brushed against his skin, fluttering the edges of his clothing and cooling the scales that traced the lines of his body.
His tail, a powerful limb that often had a mind of its own, began to drum lazily against the tiles. Thump.
Thump-thump.
Thump.
He created a stylish, syncopated beat, resisting the urge to hum a tune he remembered from a life that felt increasingly like a half-remembered dream.
The silence of the night was his sanctuary...until it wasn't.
"Room for one more?"
The voice was like velvet and smoke, familiar and teasing.
Draco didn't even have to open his eyes to know who it was.
His goddess, Bahamut, had a way of announcing her presence, a shift in the very static of the atmosphere.
"Hmm," Draco replied, his voice a low rumble of acknowledgement.
He didn't move his head, but his tail shifted, tapping the empty space on the roof tile beside him to signify an open invitation.
"You are being awfully bold today, my little dragon," Bahamut teased.
He heard the rustle of her dress as she settled down beside him.
As she lay back, their bodies touched.
Draco felt the sudden, radiating warmth of her side against his arm.
She was a goddess, yet she felt so remarkably solid, so vividly alive.
The scent she always carried...a mixture of flowers, rare spices, and something ancient….tickled his nose, making his heart skip a beat.
They remained silent for a time, eyes closed, ears perked.
They listened to the city.
Orario was in a state of gradual recovery, the aftereffects of the recent war still lingering like a healing bruise.
Their home was situated close to the northeastern main road, and even at this hour, the sounds of carts, the occasional shout of a night-traders, and the distant clatter of tavern doors provided a backdrop to their solitude.
With their heightened senses, it felt as though they were drifting through the streets themselves, invisible observers of the city's slow pulse.
After several minutes of comfortable silence, Bahamut finally spoke, her voice losing its teasing edge.
"A lot has happened in the past few weeks," she began.
She opened her eyes, staring up at the vast expanse of the sky.
Beside Draco, she turned her body slightly, her tail swaying back and forth until it came to rest against his chest.
The sensation was distracting, to say the least.
The slight weight and the rhythmic movement of her tail were mildly arousing, a physical reminder of the goddess's presence that Draco found increasingly difficult to ignore.
He kept his eyes shut tight, enduring the "torment" with a stoicism he didn't truly feel.
Bahamut had a way of making his resolve...specifically his decision to wait until he was of age…..feel like a crumbling fortress.
She wasn't even being deliberate about it; it was simply the effortless magnetism of a deity who saw no reason to hide her affection.
"We all nearly lost each other," she said softly, taking in a deep, shaky breath.
The memory of the war was a dark shadow in her eyes.
She had watched her children….her family…..throw themselves into battles against enemies that theoretically should have crushed them.
She had felt the cold hand of mortality brushing against her familia, and for a goddess, that was a terrifying novelty.
"If it wasn't for those coincidences... those tiny, favorable moments... we wouldn't be sitting here right now," she whispered.
Her brow furrowed, and she moved closer, her hand finding Draco's and squeezing it with surprising strength.
When she had first descended to the mortal world, she had viewed it as a place to escape the boredom of the heavens.
She had never imagined she would become so emotionally shackled to mortals.
Eight of them.
Eight lives that now outweighed the stars in her estimation.
And with time, she knew that the new members would join these numbers.
Draco felt her unease vibrating through her palm.
He opened his eyes then, turning his head to look at her.
He squeezed her hand back, his grip grounding her.
"We all survived," he said, his voice firm and devoid of doubt.
"The 'what ifs' are just ghosts. We're here. That's what matters."
"Hmm," she replied, her head finally coming to rest on his chest.
Draco didn't tell her that he had the same thoughts at times.
He didn't mention the nightmares.
He kept those buried deep, preferring to be the anchor he thought she needed.
He closed his eyes again, letting the warmth of their contact shield them from the cold night air.
The silence returned, heavier this time, filled with the unspoken weight of their bond.
Then, Draco's eyes snapped open.
A thought had been crystallizing in his mind for the last hour, and if he didn't say it now, he might lose his nerve.
"I think we should go on a date," he said.
Bahamut jerked slightly, her head lifting from his chest.
She looked at him with wide, surprised eyes, a faint blush creeping onto her cheeks.
"A date? Where did that come from? Not that I'm complaining, but that was quite the sudden leap."
Draco rubbed the back of his neck, his tail twitching nervously against the tiles.
He took a moment to gather the words, trying to sound more like a confident adventurer and less like a flustered teenager.
"I'm leaving soon," he said, his voice dropping an octave.
"Likely in the next three months. I don't know how long I'll be gone, or when I'll be back. But..." He paused, looking away toward the silhouette of the Tower of Babel.
"I don't want our flame to die out while I'm away. I want to give us something... real. To hold onto."
He trailed off, his face heating up.
He was a dragon-kin, a warrior who had faced down many strong opponents, yet uttering those three specific words felt more daunting than a Level 7 boss.
"What I'm trying to say is that..."
"That you love me, right?" Bahamut finished for him.
She was smiling now, a soft, knowing expression that made Draco want to bury his head in the roof tiles.
Draco simply nodded, unable to meet her gaze.
"Sigh. You know, to any other lady, that awkward delivery would be a major turn-off," Bahamut said, though her eyes were dancing with amusement.
"Eh?" Draco muttered, finally looking at her.
"When you say something like that, you have to be bold! Confident!" she scolded playfully, poking him in the chest.
"How are you going to win the hearts of the others if you're this much of a bumbling mess?"
Draco blinked, genuine confusion replacing his embarrassment.
"Others? What others? I'm only talking about you."
Bahamut rolled her eyes, a gesture that was remarkably mortal.
"Don't give me that look. Don't tell me you haven't noticed the way those girls look at you. You're many things, Draco, but you aren't blind."
Draco tilted his head, feigning a level of ignorance that he hoped was convincing.
He knew exactly what she was talking about, but it wasn't a Pandora's box he was ready to open. Talking about other women while trying to secure a date with his goddess felt like a tactical error of the highest magnitude.
His past-life memories of TV tropes and romance novels screamed at him to stay the course.
"Sigh. Forget it. You'll figure it out eventually, probably in the most dramatic way possible," Bahamut said, flashing him a brilliant, toothy grin.
She didn't seem upset; if anything, she seemed entertained by his plight.
"Anyway, when is this date? I need to know how much time I have to prepare. A goddess doesn't just 'show up' for a romantic outing."
"How about the day after tomorrow?" Draco replied, regaining some of his composure.
"I need to make some arrangements myself. I want it to be... right."
"Great! I shall look forward to it with bated breath," Bahamut said.
She sat up, the moonlight catching the silver of her hair and making it shimmer like liquid metal. The backdrop of the stars and the shadow of her red, reptilian eyes created a sight so mesmerizing that Draco felt his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.
But before he could say another word, before he could even offer to walk her back down to her room, Bahamut suddenly unfurled her magnificent wings.
With a powerful leap, she took to the air, the gust of her departure nearly knocking Draco backward.
She disappeared into the night sky, a dark silhouette against the moon, leaving Draco alone on the roof.
He stared at the spot where she had been, his mind racing.
'Where could she be going at this hour? To celebrate? To gloat? To simply fly?'
Meanwhile, high above the clouds where the air was thin and freezing, Bahamut was soaring at a speed that would have terrified any mortal.
Her cool, goddess-like facade had utterly dissolved.
Her face was a brilliant shade of crimson, and she let out a frustrated, high-pitched scream that was swallowed by the wind.
"Aaaah! That was so silly! Why did I start scolding him about other girls?" she yelled at the empty sky.
"I should have just kissed him! Why am I like this?"
But the stars, in their infinite silence, offered no answer.
Below her, the lights of Orario twinkled like a carpet of fallen diamonds, and for the first time in a millennia, a goddess felt the fluttering, terrifying, wonderful anxiety of a first date.