The stream was a fairly shallow one, making it easy for Ghain to travel straight up the center of it rather than being forced to one side or the other where he would have to contend with the tree line again. Before they set off, Anders had noted the direction of the mountain so they wouldn’t lose their way if the stream began to wind too much, but thus far it was going the right way. If they were lucky, its source was the mountain itself, though considering the day they’d had, the captain refused to invest any serious hope in this being the case.

The man kept a close eye on the banks to either side of them for any sign that the Black Prince or his dragon left the water in favor of the trees, but saw nothing. The fact that they had no idea how much of a head start their enemy had on them put Anders on edge; the tracks had seemed fresh in the sand, but considering the total lack of wind ever since he’d woken up, they could have been hours old. On the other hand, they might be significantly fresher than that, and given Ghain had a much longer stride than the black dragon, it was entirely possible that they could catch up to them at any moment. Pretty though the forest around them was, it was hard for Anders to sit back and enjoy the view when they could be ambushed at any time.

His instincts proved more accurate than the captain would have liked when the stream transitioned into a dense, murky marsh just as the sun began its final descent towards the horizon. Anders tensed as the hair stood up on the back of his neck, and beneath him, no doubt sensing the same thing his partner had, Ghain hesitated then looked sharply about them with keen eyes less effected by the lengthening shadows.

A soft sound, negligible under any other circumstance, caught Anders’ ear and the man threw himself backward, rolling off his shoulder along Ghain’s spine and coming to a sliding stop further down his back, one hand clutching at the rough surface of his partner’s armored scales and the other going to the blade strapped to his thigh. There was a man dressed all in black crouching where Anders had been seated, a thin, curved blade the length of his arm gripped tight in his hands, having just finished cutting through the space the captain’s head had occupied a moment before.

The snap realization that his enemy had dropped down from the trees overhead sent a thrill of terror and admiration through Anders as he drew his own sword to defend himself. Neither rider got to do more than that, however, as both lost their footing when Ghain leaped backwards as something black and snarling surged up from beneath the surface of the marsh, great maw open and ready to latch its teeth around the golden dragon’s throat.

Anders hit the water back first but found it quite shallow as he thrashed upright to get his footing, certain that taking a moment too long would be the death of him. He made it to his feet just in time to raise his sword and block an incoming slash from the glittering arc of the Black Prince’s sword. The force behind the blow made their blades ring and sent vibrations up the length of Anders’ arm as he stumbled back a pace, but he rallied quickly when his enemy chased after, thinking he had the other rider on his heels. Anders blocked the man’s sword again, but this time he countered with a kick to the prince’s chest that sent the black-clad man tumbling back into the water.

The captain dove after him, hoping to pin his opponent long enough to disarm and talk some sense into him, but the moment he laid hands on the man, the prince came up swinging, fist catching Anders in the jaw and sending him spinning into the shallows. He barely avoided sucking in a lungful of water when he hit, but before he could push himself upright again, his opponent was on him, half straddling his waist, sword raised above his head in anticipation of plunging its point into Anders heart.

This was it, the captain realized abruptly as he scrabbled for his own blade and found it out of reach, dread certainty of his own demise settling heavy on his chest to drive the air from his lungs, leaving him helpless. The moment was strangely quiet when Anders’ lifted his eyes to get at least one good look at the man about to kill him; and was uncertain how he felt about the fact that his murderer was strikingly handsome despite the fierce expression contorting his face.

The Black Prince had dark skin and a close-trimmed black beard that matched the thick waves of his hair, damp and full of marsh-matter though it was at the moment. He had an arched nose, high cheekbones, and straight, black brows over a pair of striking gray eyes…

And oh what eyes.

Anders sucked in an unsteady breath when their gazes met and, looming over him, the prince’s eyes went wide as he froze, sword still raised for the final blow. It was like a spark passed between them, recognition despite their never having met before; one soul calling out to another. A shiver that had nothing to do with the chill water around them rippled through both men and the prince faltered, sword lowering fractionally as they stared at one another in the heavy silence that hung over the marsh. Acting on instinct, Anders reached up towards the other man, not entirely sure what his own intentions were, though he never found out as the prince flinched away before he had a chance.

“No,” the stranger said, speaking for the first time. Despite the dire circumstances, Anders found himself rejoicing at the sound of his voice all the same. “You stay away from me.”

“Wait, please—” Anders began as he tried to step forward again, to close the distance between them, but this time the prince snarled and thrust his sword forward, catching the captain under the chin and forcing him back, hands raised to either side in surrender lest the other man be tempted to cut his throat then and there.

“No,” the prince repeated, then, sword still at Anders’ throat, looked around for his dragon.

The captain did the same and was surprised to find that the unnatural silence hadn’t been something he’d imagined; Ghain and the black dragon were standing not far away simply staring at one another, wings half mantled and dripping marsh water from their brief struggle. How long had they been that way, Anders wondered. Clearly they’d had their moment of revelation sooner than their riders, and now…

Ghain moved first, stretching his neck out towards the female dragon as she regarded him warily, but did not pull away. Before anything more could happen, though, the prince called, “Ephinea!” his voice cutting through the silence like a knife.

The black dragon gave a start and looked towards her partner, suddenly uncertain, then withdrew to meet the prince halfway as he backed away from Anders, gray eyes narrowed in suspicion. The captain didn’t dare move, and a moment later, the prince had sprung astride his dragon and the pair fled the scene together, disappearing into the trees on the far side of the marsh.

Neither Anders nor Ghain moved for a long moment after that, not until well after the sound of the black dragon’s─ Ephinea’s, footsteps faded into the distance. When they were out of earshot, it was like the captain could finally breathe again, the weight on his chest replaced with a tender ache somewhere behind his ribs that had nothing to do with the physicality of the fight he’d just survived.

Shaken, Anders forced himself to take a deep breath, then fetched his sword from where it had landed, blade thrust deep into the mud, hilt only just visible over the surface of the murky water. He wiped it down as he waded back towards his dragon and re-sheathed it when he came to a stop besides him.

Ghain sat back on his haunches, appearing lost as he looked down at his rider and said, “She’s my lifemate.”

Anders met the look with a sad smile and gave the dragon’s scaled foreleg a sympathetic pat. “Yeah, I gathered.”

“She’s beautiful,” Ghain said, tone unbearably wistful as he turned his gaze back in the direction their one-time enemies had disappeared.

“Yeah,” he agreed with a tremendous sigh that seemed to well up from some deep, distant part of himself he’d never even been aware of before today. Anders had thought he was done discovering new parts of himself the day he’d bonded with Ghain, but now it’d gone and happened again, and with someone who was ostensibly the enemy too. “So was he,” the man admitted, pained.

It was a curious side-effect that when a bonded dragon found their mate in another bonded dragon, their riders experienced the same connection. It made sense, Anders thought; after all, dragons only bonded with humans they felt a soul-deep connection with, and their mate bonds worked similarly. If two dragons were compatible, then it tracked that their humans would be as well, and through their shared magic, they got to feel that as keenly as the dragons themselves did.

Not that such a thing happened very often. A relatively small percentage of dragons signed up for service, so the odds of them finding their lifemate among their similarly human-bonded peers was statistically unlikely. In fact, Anders couldn’t think of any currently in service, not in Marilderland, anyways. From what he understood, most dragons never found a true lifemate at all; although, considering Ghain’s was a dragon from a different clan, maybe there was just a lack of exposure holding them back.

Anders gave himself a mental shake. Whatever the case, it complicated an already peculiar and potentially deadly situation in a way he wasn’t sure how to approach. On the one hand, he still thought the best way forward was for them to work together to get to the bottom of what was going on here; on the other, the Black Prince clearly wanted nothing to do with him, despite obviously feeling their connection himself.

Stung by the thought, Anders grimaced and rubbed the center of his chest absently with one hand as Ghain surged to his feet beside him then announced, “We should go after them.”

“What?” the captain asked, startled by his partner’s proclamation. “No. Ghain— look, I get it; but this is… this is complicated, and I don’t know if you noticed, but your mate’s rider just almost slit my throat.”

The golden dragon fixed him with a stern look and said, “He’s your mate,” as if that was all that needed to be said on the matter.

Truth be told, it was, but burned once already, Anders resisted anyways. “I know. But lets go to the mountain,” he suggested. “We’ll have a look around, see if we can’t figure out what’s wrong with us, then double back and help them.” Ghain hesitated, so his rider pressed, “They might be more welcoming if we have more to offer than our pretty faces.” The dragon snorted and Anders flashed him a grin before a shiver raced up his back. This time, at least, it had everything to do with being cold and nothing at all to do with a pair of bewitching gray eyes. “I’m soaked, it’s going to be dark soon, and there’s no way we’re going to find a black dragon after the sun goes down. Not even your eyes are that good.”

Ghain considered the suggestion for a minute, then heaved a tremendous sigh that would have been enough to blow Anders off his feet if it’d been aimed in his direction. “Fine,” he replied eventually, then fixed his partner with one yellow eye and added, “But if we don’t find anything by tomorrow evening, we’re doubling back before they can get too far from us.”