how long has it been?

[small_magics]

Isibel's beloveds are home. And they are with her. And they are quite undisturbed.

Anyone who could not guess the ensuing events would not know them very well.

She has spent over a sennight, now, with them, entangled and sleepless and so very, very glad to have them again.

It is during a lull in the proceedings - if it can really be called that, when they are sandwiched around her, Ansharil in one of his humanoid shapes, Aianon with his wings wrapping them all up in a bundle - when it occurs to her that Lycaelon was promised a kiss, once, years ago.

Comments

[endragoned]

Oh, that he was.

Aianon supposes he could deliver that kiss sometime soon. If it did not come as too much of an interruption. Perhaps if they just summoned Lycaelon here, and Aianon kissed him, and then he - well, went away again or didn't, whichever seemed like the most delightful option.

[small_magics]

It would not be too much of an interruption.

[endragoned]

Hm.

Would she like to brainphone him, or should Aianon?

[small_magics]

She can.

[Hello.]

[wildlymagical]

[Oh! Are you—? Um, hello,] he says.

[small_magics]

[If you wished to collect your kiss from my beloved now - perhaps you remember, from when you first saw the island, wanting one - then you could visit us and do so.]

[wildlymagical]

[...All right,] says Lycaelon.

He teleports to where they all are.

[small_magics]

Isibel extracts one hand from the cuddle-wrap to wave lazily at him.

[wildlymagical]

That looks to be an admirably cuddly cuddle-wrap. Lycaelon admires it for a moment.

[endragoned]

Aianon gently unwraps his wings from around the snuggling Isibel and Ansharil, so that he can sit up and beckon to Lycaelon.

[wildlymagical]

Lycaelon leans in to kiss him.

Except—

He keeps looking at Ansharil, currently in the form of a human with long luxurious purple hair in all the sunset shades of his scales. He is just so beautiful. It's hard to pay attention to anything else.

[small_magics]

Aww, they're -

Isibel blinks, and sits up abruptly. "Lycaelon." And, silently, to her beloved - do they see what she's seeing?

[wildlymagical]

"Huh?" he says distractedly.

[endragoned]

Yes. Yes, they see it.

They are not sure what to do.

[small_magics]

"You are gazing at my dragon. You may wish to stop and think." She puts her hand between his eyes and Ansharil.

[wildlymagical]

"Oh. Oh," says Lycaelon. "He's - not a dragon right now, does that...? I guess it doesn't."

He shuts his eyes.

"I should ask Liselen what's going on," he concludes.

And he conference-calls them all on brainphone.

[Liselen, why am I about to bond with Ansharil?]

[pythbox]

[Fate, I guess,] says Liselen. [I don't have anything specific to tell you about it.]

[small_magics]

[So presumably you do not have to do it to save the world.]

[pythbox]

[Absolutely no world-saving involved,] Liselen confirms. [It's all up to you.]

[wildlymagical]

[Okay...] says Lycaelon. [That's... good? I guess?]

[small_magics]

[If you share my initial discomfort with the idea but would otherwise like to, it can, of course, be patched by magic.]

[wildlymagical]

"Right," he murmurs. [Thanks, Lise.] "Are - what do you think, I'm not just deciding this for me, am I?"

[endragoned]

"We are all deciding it," says Ansharil. "For all of us."

Aianon causes the floor of the tree to grow a comfortable chair for Lycaelon to sit in, and stands up to guide him into it. His wings arch around the chair, shielding Lycaelon from stray glimpses of his dragon even if he were to open his eyes.

[small_magics]

Isibel flops onto Ansharil. (She is already Bonded with him and can look at him as much as she likes.) "It would be different. Perhaps in a good way, though."

[endragoned]

"I would not mind," says Aianon, running his fingers through Lycaelon's hair (and being careful with his talons) as Ansharil hugs Isibel. "I could love you happily."