For a long moment Ruan was silent, his grin slowly dropping down into a more thoughtful expression, as he processed Adrissu’s words.
“Fated,” he repeated—not quite a question, but testing the word out. “So... We’re linked by magic? Is that what you mean?”
“Well, in a way,” Adrissu stammered. Words suddenly failed him. How could he explain it when he barely understood it himself? “Yes, it’s magic that links us, but—it wasn’t something I cast. It just... is.”
Ruan frowned, and Adrissu’s heart leapt into his throat.
“Hmm,” the human finally murmured, glancing away. “So I didn’t even have a choice? I was always going to love you?”
He was all but helpless to answer. “I don’t know. If not, then I didn’t have a choice either.”
He watched Ruan scratch his chin, still ruminating.
“I... have mixed feelings about that,” Ruan finally confessed with a sigh. “I don’t really understand, but I guess you don’t either. But I trust you that it’s not something you didtome, so... I don’t know. I just want to be with you.”
“If it’s any consolation, Ruan, you can magically force beings todothings, but to manipulate their inner emotions is much more difficult. It’s nearly impossible to do for an extended length of time,” Adrissu said quickly, looking down at his glass of wine. Something about the conversation felt precarious. “I am an accomplished mage, but even I have my limits. I’m not capable of that level of magic.”
To his surprise, Ruan laughed. “Well, now I know that must be true. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you speak so poorly of yourself.”
His laugh broke the tension that was building in Adrissu’s shoulders, and he managed a resigned smile over at the human. “Unfortunately, I cannot be an expert in everything.”
They were silent for a moment, and Adrissu took a deep gulp of his glass of wine. That had gone well—better than he expected, even. Maybe it would be best to save bringing up the ritual for later. Maybe it would be too much all at once—
“Was there something else?” Ruan asked, still eyeing him. Adrissu took one last drink of wine, before setting down his glass.
“It was related, yes,” he sighed, folding his hands on the table in front of him. “I learned, very recently, that there is a... ritual that some fated pairs will undergo. It is to ensure that in the event one mate dies, their souls remain linked. The soul will be reborn nearby, so the two can find each other again.”
“Aren’t dragons immortal?”
“Immortal, yes, but not unkillable,” Adrissu continued. “It was developed around the time mortals first started becoming strong enough to threaten a dragon’s life. I have... come into possession of the details of this ritual.”
Ruan’s expression had gone stony, and Adrissu knew that Ruan already knew what he was going to ask.
“Ruan,” he said softly, reaching for the other man’s wrist. “You already know how much I... dread the thought of being without you. I know the idea of death seems far away to you, but for me—it’ssoon, Ruan, we will have so little time together, even if you live to the very limits of a human lifespan.”
“So reincarnation is the answer, then?” Ruan retorted. He did not pull away, but his brows were furrowed together, and he stared down at the table with his fingers pressed tightly around his own glass still half-full.
“To be without one’s fated mate is despair. It isagony, Ruan,” Adrissu protested. “Even imagining it frightens me.”
“I don’t know, Adrissu,” Ruan sighed, shaking his head. “That is... Extreme. I don’t know.”
Even though Adrissu was not surprised at such a reaction, it still made his heart sink to the very bottom of his stomach. But just as he’d said, forcing emotions in others was a nearly impossible task—and trying to push Ruan now would only make him more resistant. So even though he wanted to insist, to demand, to doanythingto keep Ruan with him forever, he instead released his grip on Ruan’s wrist and raised his hand in a placating gesture.
“There is no need to come to a decision now,” he said. His voice was rough, a betrayal to his cool and distant expression. “I only wanted to make you aware of these things. I have no desire to... keep things from you ever again, Ruan.”
There was no reply for a long moment. When he chanced a nervous look back over at Ruan, the human was watching him with an expression as carefully blank as his own. But when their eyes met, a tiny smile slowly played across Ruan’s mouth, and he shook his head with a sigh.
“Maybe it is magic drawing me to you,” he laughed. “Because I feel like I should be irritated with you, but all I can think about is how much I want to kiss you.”
There was a strange relief that settled over Adrissu at the words. He couldn’t hold it against Ruan if he felt uncertain in the moment—after all, it had taken him years to grapple with his own feelings about the whole situation. But the knowledge that Ruan did not rage or run from the magic that had brought them together soothed Adrissu in a way that he hadn’t realized he’d needed.
“Why hold back, then?” he murmured, a smirk crossing his features. Ruan’s laugh rang between them as he acquiesced, closing the space between them to press their lips together.
Adrissu did not broach the topic of the soul-binding ritual again for well over a year, and Ruan did not ask about it. Occasionally, he would inquire about the nature of being a fated pair—often with frustration because most of his questions Adrissu simply could not answer. But quietly, whenever Ruan was gone for longer than a week or two, Adrissu would leave town as well to find the ingredients for the ritual, those which he did not already have.
The first was a flower that grew far to the north, in the foothills of a mountain range that eventually became part of the orc wildlands. The area was remote and still disputed between the orcs and nearby elves; but the conflict meant that there were no permanent settlements there, so he flew without fear of being spotted. He came upon one orc raiding party, but there were no survivors to spread tales of having sighted him.
Adrissu knew that he would need to be careful not to be seen, as even the most remote places would occasionally have visitors. When he spotted the foothills, he dropped from the sky and took his usual elven form to search on foot. It meant not searching as quickly, but at least if hewereseen, he’d only be some strange elf foolish enough to travel alone.
