“We should have stayed,” Ephinea said, quiet voice filling the small rocky alcove they had decided to camp in for the night.

Well, Nysid would be camping there for the night; Ephinea had curled her long frame up to act as a fourth wall for her partner’s shelter, serving to keep the chill out and the heat of the small fire the prince had built in.

Nysid stared into the flames for a long minute and leaned in closer to their warmth to make up for his lack of clothing. He’d been soaked clean through during the fight in the marsh, though once they’d gone far enough for Nysid to be certain they weren’t being followed he’d wet them all over again in a clear flowing stream to rid himself of the mud and decay. After, he’d gathered wood and built a fire for Ephinea to light before laying his clothing out to dry, then made himself comfortable. So far the only thing dry enough to wear again were his underthings, but the prince was set on at least regaining the use of his shirt before bedding down for the night.

First help him, he was exhausted after everything they’d been through; morning felt like years ago, somehow. Too much had happened for any one day, surely? First there had been that debacle of a battle his uncle had forced him into, and then that nightmarish storm that had sucked him and Ephi out to sea where they’d nearly drowned… They’d landed so hard his riding gear had not only been wrecked, but had threatened to drag his partner down into the depths when it began to foul her legs as she tried to swim, forcing him to cut it free. He’d had to ditch most of his armor for the same reason as its weight threatened to finish what the lash of the looming waves had not, leaving them with nothing but the clothes on his back and what little the prince had in his pockets and belt pouch.

Luckily, fresh water was plentiful here in… wherever they’d swum too, though it hadn’t taken Nysid long to catch onto the fact that he’d apparently lost his ability to use magic when he went to clean it of any potential sickness before drinking. This, on the heels of Ephinea realizing she’d forgotten how to fly, was a terrifying development for the prince, who now found himself with one less tool to defend himself and survive. That his partner had forgotten something she’d been doing almost as long as she’d been alive, something that was instinctual for dragons was alarming, and not just because it was going to make their return to Rodshyom nigh impossible (though that was certainly the concern foremost in his mind for the time being). Combined with his sudden magical ignorance, Nysid was haunted by the thought that there were other things he’d forgotten without any way of knowing what kind of things they might even be.

More immediately pressing, they had no food and the prince wasn’t familiar enough with the local plant-life to dare gather anything that appeared edible — though give it a few days and he might. Maybe not, though. This place, wherever it was, was strange. Unnaturally quiet and devoid of living creatures, Nysid didn’t trust a single tree or stone he saw.

And then there was that… that man.

A little shiver that had nothing to do with the prince’s lack of clothes raced up his back and he hugged himself tight, frowning into the flames. The rider of the golden dragon had been a right terror on the battlefield, though Nysid hadn’t thought much of him at first. Another lumbering oaf for his beautiful Ephinea to fly circles around—  and she had, but rider and dragon both had persisted, chasing them from one end of the battlefield to another. Huge and slow their enemy may have been, but they were also clever. Too clever by half, and it’d inspired a wave of fear that dogged Nysid all battle. Unable to outmaneuver them, the golden dragon had been intent on running them to ground and had come so very close to succeeding. The advantage of darkness that the storm granted had been negated by clever spellwork, leaving them only the problems that came with strong winds and stiff rain for a smaller dragon like Ephinea. While the heavier golden dragon had soared easily behind them, his partner had struggled to steady every wing beat, draining her energy and leaving their only option to face the enemy head on.

And he’d had him. He’d had the bastard in his sights and still he’d failed.

He’d had him again when they’d met in the marsh but Nysid had failed then too, despite having his enemy on his back, sword ready to plunge down into his heart— then their eyes had met and it’d been like seeing the sun rise after an endless, harrowing night. Soft brown eyes, a strong jaw, and hair as gold as his dragon’s scales… it turned out the prince’s enemy was beautiful. Worse, it turned out he was Nysid’s mate.

“Nysid,” Ephinea said, voice gentle but firm as she called him from his thoughts.

“They’re the enemy,” the prince said stonily, refusing to meet his dragon’s pale blue gaze.

“That’s not all they are,” Ephinea countered, unyielding as she ever was when she had a point to make. Nysid could feel her watching him while he tried his best to ignore her and turned his attention to his hair instead. He’d rinsed that earlier as well, after seeing to his clothes, but all he had to work through the long tresses were his fingers— a laborious process he now turned his full attention to.

It’d been a long time since he’d last cut his hair and it fell to the middle of his back these days. Normally it was something he quite liked about his appearance, but stuck out in the middle of nowhere with none of his usual gear it was a serious pain.

They sat in silence for a time, the only sound the soft crackling of the campfire and the occasional muted curse from Nysid as he fought with a particularly stubborn tangle. The prince could feel the weight of his partner’s gaze the entire time, but when it came to stubbornness, they were evenly matched, and both knew the other would only talk again when they were ready to. For Nysid, that was when his clothes finally finished drying and he donned them once more, then settled down between Ephinea’s forepaws to sleep.

Once he’d made himself comfortable and closed his eyes, arms wrapped tight around himself for additional warmth, the man said, “We can’t trust them, Ephi. Whatever else they may be, they’re still the enemy.”

“We can,” the dragon countered, the words rumbling through her chest and into his lean frame. “They will help us, if we ask.”

“Why would they?”

Ephinea snorted lightly. “Because they’re ours,” she said— as if this were the most obvious thing in the world. It only made her partner open his eyes and cock his head to look up at her skeptically. She sighed, breath stirring Nysid’s long hair before she added, “Besides, they are also clearly stuck here or they would have flown away before we ever met. Working together to figure out what has happened to us is the most efficient option to secure a way home.”

“We don’t need anyone,” Nysid insisted, though he knew she was right. He couldn’t admit it, however, not with the tender ache lingering behind his ribs filling him with such longing. It’d been just the two of them for such a long time… the thought of letting someone else in, of opening himself up to the scrutiny of someone so clearly capable of hurting him, was terrifying.

While Nysid wasn’t sure about other countries, it was incredibly rare for the dragons of Rodshyom’s Malyara clan to find their soulmate. The concept was a tantalizing one, the prince had to admit. To find someone whose temperament suited yours in every way— two halves of a single whole that worked in perfect harmony, compensating for one another’s shortcomings while amplifying their strengths… it sounded like an impossible dream.

If he’d been asked yesterday, he would have called it just that. While one did occasionally hear of dragons finding their soulmate, the odds of one bonded to a rider finding one in another dragon that was also bonded were astronomically tiny. Nysid certainly hadn’t heard of any— not even since becoming a rider himself over a decade before. The concept was the stuff of myths; better suited to the florid stanzas of particularly romantic poems than someone as practical as Nysid.

Or so he’d thought, anyways.

Behind him, Ephinea sighed again and Nysid knew he’d disappointed her. It didn’t happen often, and while it stung every time he managed, his fear wouldn’t let him back down; not yet.

“It’s okay to need help, little prince. People worth loving won’t judge you for reaching out,” his partner murmured as she settled down to sleep herself. “But I suppose the only way to learn that lesson is the hard way.”