To Long for Soot in Snow

by floofylove

 

Tags: Ancient Times, Animal Characteristics, Arrogant Characters, Beasts, Beautfiful Couple, Boy's Love Subplot, Clingy Lover, Cold Protagonist, Cute Story, Dragons, Elves, Fantasy World, Handsome Male Lead, Loneliness, Magic

Content warnings:

 

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Gray pointed ears flickered behind the light film of snow atop branches, luminous against the almost-black pinewood. The snowflakes were caught in the deep, knotted crevices of ancient trunks, lasting but a brief lifetime before melting away. More twirling snow piled atop the high, drooping branches and then tumbled down in heaping thuds.

Thin, icy pine needles crunched under barefoot soles—the thin surface of the snow broke like a stiff, caramelized sheet and revealed powdered snow beneath.

Tuyet Thuan traced the notched bumps of the passing trunks with a feather-light touch. The trees crowded so thick and dense that his hand never fell away, instead leaping from one to the other. Dark matted moss jumped off the trunks in the path of his hand before he finally moved it away. He rubbed warmth back into his gray, frosted fingertips.

Flakes of snow trembled atop his clear lashes before being blinked away into oblivion. His hair was devoid of color and as translucent as reflecting ice, cut sharp at his rounded chin in order to slip through crooked, wooden nooks. His robes were made of varying shades of gray wolf pelts he’d collected with every passing decade, all bound eloquently together with twine, before clasping the side of his neck with an asymmetric finish. They flowed down his body like an icy river.

He moved freely—and the forest parted around him, welcoming him home. The sweet, crystal chimes of the wind blew up from the jagged ice ravine deep north, where the gusts swept snow through the forest. Trailing along, however, was a deep, ashen scent. Tuyet Thuan’s ears flicked up and down. His thin brows and short, flattened nose scrunched together. 

There was fire.

Tuyet Thuan held a draping sleeve up to his mouth and contemplated the source of the fire as he stepped in the scent’s direction. It could be a human fire that caught wind from a settlement. Or perhaps a rebellious youngling had messed around with magic, away from the high elves’ watch. Or, though rare, an old withered tree had caught the passing eye of the sun and collapsed into ashes.

Still, it was worthy of investigation.

Like a curtain pulled open to reveal a window’s endless sight, Tuyet Thuan stepped past the last crowded line of trees before they gave way to a large clearing. Dense pine trunks, thicker than his body a few times over, littered the ground. Deteriorating bark peeked out of the decades of untouched snow. The brittle bark crumbled, dusting the pale snow with an ashen coat.

And at the center of the scorched earth, littered with patchy snow, was a goliath dragon. The hot-spike mane was slender like a feline’s, tapering down the serpentine torso to its scaled tail. Large wings furled tight against the dragon’s sides. Sword-like fins followed underneath, then backfins. It lay coiled into a tight knot—only the long snout and curly twine whiskers peeked out. The golden crest crowning the dragon’s snout and neck betrayed a gleam of the creature’s original color beneath the charcoal soot.

Snow piled atop the dragon like an untouched grave. A large chunk slid down its tail after precariously towering too high. Tuyet Thuan circled the dragon, careful to avoid being downwind wherever the ash blew. It took over a few minutes to fully circle the behemoth. He rubbed his throat out of habit.

A dragon—it was unheard of to see such creatures near this realm of frost.

Yet, this dragon could only be dead. No dragon would allow the winter chill to touch their scales, let alone etch their bones. It was the reason no dragons chose to settle here.

…Was it dead?

Tuyet Thuan leaned in while wincing inwardly at the inevitable specks graying his pristine robes. His fingers, manicured and bony, pressed beneath against the side of the dragon’s maw. A low, faint magic glimmered—the dull, lukewarm spark caged in bars of ice. The slow, lurching thumps of a dragon’s heartbeat vibrated against his fingertips, imprinting warmth onto his hand.

Even at the precipice of death itself, the dragon retained an unbelievable amount of heat. When it was awake, well, the result was already clear. Tuyet Thuan’s icy, aristocratic countenance softened with the crease of his brows. He supposed he had no choice but to help the dragon—it was his duty after all. Besides, it was far unbefitting for a creature such as this to look so pitiful in the snow. It was better suited to leave this forest with a revived chance.

A pale white glow gathered at Tuyet Thuan’s fingers. His finger could barely cover a single scale on the dragon’s side—and his hand was only a small gray speck against a black backdrop of ashen scales. Tuyet Thuan manipulated the magic to gently trickle into the vast ocean of the dragon’s conscience, nudging it awake into a cool lucidity. He traced the crest above the dragon’s eyelid, carefully layering his magic atop the dragon’s as it thawed into a broiling power.

Its eyelid split apart with a slow creak. The coal-slitted pupil cleared of snowy fog, before shifting downward to stare at the elf. The overflowing heat would ordinarily escape now met with Tuyet Thuan’s blanket of magic and diffused into a minty, refreshing sensation. The dragon’s throat rumbled with a low purr.

Although unused to the feeling, Tuyet Thuan supposed he didn’t mind the vibrations, nor the noise. They weren’t so grating compared to other sounds.

“You may leave now. I’ve done you a great favor and chosen to spare you a lifetime of ice. Tuyet Thuan is my name—remember it well as your savior’s,” he announced, tone lordly and clear, as he stepped back.

The dragon untangled itself quickly, slinking as lithely as a sea serpent. Snow and ash fell like a waterfall, mixing into a muddy pile where the dragon once lay. A mesmerizing gold broke through the cracks of darkness, eventually recoloring the entire dragon with a glimpse of its original shine.

He looked on with a strange, light feeling in his chest. Wings unfurled to their greatest span, like the stretching of a cat. Tuyet Thuan waited patiently. He expected a majestic, worthwhile sight of the dragon spiraling into the air, before gliding away with the bounce of its whiskers.

Instead… the dragon raised its head and stared intensely at Tuyet Thuan. It watched with such rapt attention, he thought perhaps the dragon’s mind was still under the lethargic spell of near-death. 

But no. 

The dragon continued to stare. 

And stare more, as Tuyet Thuan brushed the fur on his sleeve impatiently.

“Why linger? Do you have something to say? If not, I will be leaving.”

The instant “leaving” left his lips, the dragon’s gigantic proportions melted away to a humanoid one, standing tall above Tuyet Thuan. His slitted, reptilian eyes and long, scaly tail remained the only signs of his previous form. The dragon conjured thin, almost veneer robes colored royal gold—albeit they immediately became ash-ridden with a single gust, courtesy of soot-caked hair. 

“Be my mate.”

“No,” Tuyet Thuan instantly responded, eyes narrowed with disgust. “I do not know your name, let alone desire to be your... mate.”

“Vinh Long—now you know my name. You are my mate. I’m sure,” the dragon said, leaning in close with an excited gleam in his eyes. Because the dragon’s large size had been condensed down to a smaller form–his features too, had adapted to Vinh Long’s power. Sharp, thick brows jutted down to a roman nose, all framed by his square jaw. Vinh Long stood a full head taller. He tilted his chin down, gaze naturally radiating an intense sovereignty belonging to a powerful creature. The close and intensely warm presence caused Tuyet Thuan to retreat. However, Vinh Long stuck close like sticky rice.

“I’m not your mate,” he repeated.

Vinh Long’s brows dropped. His lips pursed, as if unable to comprehend how Tuyet Thuan had words of rejection in his vocabulary. His sweeping, draconic tail too, lowered, dragging against the snow–that and his curled horns remained of his original form.

“But only my mate would desire to access my heart with magic. Only my mate is allowed to touch my crest.”

Tuyet Thuan’s shoulders stiffened. He was unfamiliar with how dragons established mating—as it was even rarer than a dragon itself appearing. Pity flooded in. Though he did not harbor close feelings for the dragon, Vinh Long instantly misunderstood Tuyet Thuan’s life-saving actions as romantic intent. Tuyet Thuan stopped walking—and Vinh Long’s broad chest bumped up against his back. The snow elf was unadjusted to the warm sensation. He couldn’t quite understand why his heart jumped every time he and Vinh Long exchanged a faint, often irrelevant touch.

“You misunderstood me. I’m not looking to become your or anyone’s mate.”

“Why not?”

A dusty, familiar emptiness welled up inside Tuyet Thuan, as if arising from the cracks of the ground long since covered in snow. “I have… no need for such arbitrary connections. I’ve known that ever since I was young.”

Tuyet Thuan was perfectly content alone.

“Then if you were seeking a mate, I would suit you perfectly,” Vinh Long concluded seriously.

Tuyet Thuan wondered if perhaps all the ash had muddled the dragon’s brain.

“You’re too dirty,” Tuyet Thuan cut off with exasperation. “Your hair is a mess—and you don’t know how to maintain a distance. I—under the assumption I would be looking for such an irrelevant thing like a mate—would only consider someone who is cleanly, well-behaved, and that I have been familiar with as a youngling. I have no interest in being with an unfamiliar elf, let alone a creature who cannot abide by such.”

“Those can be fulfilled,” he replied stubbornly. “I can bathe—dragons hold cleanliness to the highest capacity!”

Tuyet Thuan stared, unconvinced as Vinh Long’s tail dragged a winding trail of ash through the pristine snow. What did Vinh Long mean by “can”, as if he had the ability to and didn’t already?

“And, I would not be an overbearing mate. I consider you my equal, nothing less,” Vinh Long announced proudly, warm air puffing out.

Tuyet Thuan scoffed. He wondered if perhaps the dragon didn’t understand such treatment for an elf such as he was the bare minimum, if not scraping against mud beneath an icy layer of snow.

“My last condition is most important—it trumps all others.”

Vinh Long’s smile was as golden as the scales glinting up his neck. “Your last condition is perhaps the simplest one. I can always become more familiar with you, Tuyet Thuan. To me, time is irrelevant. Then, once I prove to you my capacity as a partner, will you be my mate?”

Tuyet Thuan cheeks rose to an unfamiliar sizzling. He coughed lightly in his raised sleeve. The coal-black eyes bore into his with a bright, defiant seriousness. He felt the heat of the dragon’s body temperature just by meeting his gaze. Tuyet Thuan broke it first, darting to the forest in a half-distracted observation.

“I suppose… I’d once more reconsider. But don’t expect an immediate deference to the idea, let alone claiming haphazardly that we are partners. Nothing of the sort! To begin with, I have no interest in finding a “mate”, as you put it.”

In the end, it didn’t matter if he agreed to Vinh Long’s words so long as they pacified the dragon. Tuyet Thuan knew best… that he would never let his heart leave its safe cage of ice. Never again would he open himself up to another.

Although Tuyet Thuan ignored Vinh Long outright, the dragon stubbornly clung onto his words with a grin. Vinh Long continued to follow him around, his scaly tail clumsily thumping and shaking every trunk they passed in a bouncing mood, in the way light streamed bright and flickered off the snow with bright beams. Vinh Long attentively maintained his distance—but his burning, impatient gaze practically scorched through the fur wrapped at Tuyet Thuan’s nape.

It knocked a faint memory forward, turning the cogs back to a dusty, unwanted memory. A clingy coal-black lizard that chased him around in the forest, just like this. The thought put Tuyet Thuan in a tangled mood—disconnected happiness, but also a painful stabbing upset. His lips thinned, as he stopped to survey the second to last stretch of forest. The calm of the snow was rather untouched—all was undisturbed.

Rubbing his throat, Tuyet Thuan turned to travel back in the direction he came from.

“Tuyet Thuan.”

Tuyet Thuan scrunched his nose, “Yes?”

“Tuyet Thuan,” he repeated.

“Stop repeating my name—what is it?”

“How can I prove I’m worthy of being your mate, right now?”

“You’re so insistent,” Tuyet Thuan said lightly, pinching the snow off the fur of his collar. “There are many factors to consider when picking a partner as an elf. It’s a complicated process that cannot be boiled down to a hot-headed decision. I am unfamiliar with dragons—how do you seek out a mate?”

“I only look for beauty.”

“You only desire to have a beautiful mate?”

“That is correct,” Vinh Long nodded, “the memories of my bloodline say so.”

“Then, you could marry my brother or any of my kind and feel the same—we hold closely similar features,” Tuyet Thuan mused.

Vinh Long huffed like an unhappy hen with ruffled feathers.

“But you are the most beautiful.”

“Have you met other elves before?” Tuyet Thuan asked, letting the little clumps of snow roll off the palm of his hand.

“Not personally.”

“Then how did you determine me to hold the most beauty?”

“Your hair glows like hoarfrost. Your keen, light eyes refract everything they see. Your unrestrained laughter. Your light, but strong voice.”

Tuyet Thuan’s steps slowed to a stop. His ears tremored, and his neck warmed as if in a vat of boiling water, spreading to the rest of his face. Tuyet Thuan quickly snuffed out the words burning in his mind, too flustered to catch their curious implication. He put up a sleeve, half-covering his face where only gray ears poked out. 

Tuyet Thuan cleared his throat, “I-I suppose you have made your point.”

Vinh Long, unperturbed by the circles the elf’s heart had begun running, nodded seriously.

“I want to be your mate.”

The words layered over each other like a chorus. Every time Vinh Long spoke, Tuyet Thuan felt as if the words got twisted further and further, causing a deep reaction to resonate from within his chest.

Tuyet Thuan’s pace resumed at a faster speed, and before the snowstorm had finished its flurry, he arrived at the front step of his Mua Dong Pavilion. Without looking behind, he held out a hand and stopped Vinh Long from stepping through the hall. He didn’t need to survey the dragon to know his magic-manifested form was still covered in soot, let alone how dirty the thickly matted, gold-spun hair was.

“Why are you following me in?”

“To prove to you I am a worthy mate,” Vinh Long said, shoulders attentively facing Tuyet Thuan.

“And if you are unworthy to be let in?”

“I’ll wait as long as I need to.”

Tuyet Thuan shook his head with a faint frown, “The nights are long—it’s pointless to be so stubborn.”

Vinh Long crossed his arms, “I won’t stop chasing you. If I freeze over again, so be it! You’ll always be there to help me.”

Tuyet Thuan’s chest tightened as he held Vinh Long’s gaze—the dragon’s words shifted an ancient slate in the crevice of his mind, uncovering a dusty familiarity. Tuyet Thuan looked away.

“…Fine. But don’t stand there—I won’t tolerate my pavilion dirtied by the wind chasing the ash off your robes. Follow me.”

He led Vinh Long around the outdoor paths. They wound farther into a thinner forest area, where an outstretched, flowing lake resided. The water was fresh and quietly moving, streaming from one end to the other. The river’s path disappeared into the shadows of the pine trees. Flat plates of ice floated along the current. A small pagoda was embedded within the trees near the shore, quaint and chiming from hanging crystals tied by ice twine.

“At the very least, you can enter the ice lake and bathe yourself here.”

“Will you join me?”

“No, I bathed before I left. I’d rather a change in clothes. I’ll retrieve robes for you as well.”

Vinh Long kept his gaze against Tuyet Thuan’s for the duration of a snowflake fluttering against the ground, before he stripped his robes without hesitation, revealing a strong, stocky figure. Tuyet Thuan could not turn his gaze quick enough—he wasn’t sure if Vinh Long simply held no sense of modesty for an unclothed figure, even in such a humanoid form, or perhaps if it were part of the dragon’s ploy to show off his prowess as a potential mate. He glimpsed at the water submerging muscular thighs and a tapering waist. Tuyet Thuan turned away with a flick of his sleeve.

Vinh Long watched Tuyet Thuan’s minute change in expression before the elf turned away. His figure glided across the snowy path, disappearing into the small pagoda. It was unknown if Tuyet Thuan was impressed by his display—or if he found it unpleasant. Vinh Long let out a breath of bubbles in the lake, before diving underneath. His humanoid form did not return above water.

Tuyet Thuan pulled the folded clothes out of a bamboo chest, and before he could begin pulling off his robes to change, remembered the unclothed dragon outside. With a small sigh, he set his own clothes down and found a size larger than his own. Then, he drifted back outside. A rumbling noise, like waves crashing against the shore, echoed. Golden scales wove in and out of the water, causing rippling waves to push out and splash on the shore. Tuyet Thuan avoided the snaking dragon’s splashes at a distance, and found a high, flattened rock side to set the robes safely atop.

“Vinh Long,” Tuyet Thuan called. His voice did not rise in volume, but carried a careful weight that was never lost in the arctic winds. Vinh Long located the elf with ease, swam over, and transformed back into his humanoid form. Tuyet Thuan averted his eyes as the man approached, only catching the warm steam rising off his skin and drying the dragon off in a short time. Vinh Long’s internal heat was so powerful that his skin retained it, despite swimming in the icy water. 

It had no effect on him…which meant when Tuyet Thuan found him in the forest, Vinh Long had let himself freeze, after all.

“Thank you,” Vinh Long said as he pulled on the robes, tying the thick bundled clothes together and slipping on the fur-lined pants.

By the time Tuyet Thuan refocused on the dragon, Vinh Long’s wet mane of long, shaggy hair pressed against the robe’s collar and began to soak through, before drying with a little puff of steam. The thickly woven, gilded hair was no more than a tangled, uncared-for pile of hay.

“Sit down, your hair is abominable.”

“It’s fine—it has always been this way.” Vinh Long ran a hand through his hair, harshly tugging through large knots with a painful rip. Tuyet Thuan stopped him angrily, and in a huff, marched back into the pagoda and returned with a wooden-toothed comb.

“Don’t move, or else you’ll lose all your hair. It’s like your scales. You must maintain them or else they won’t be so shiny and eye-catching. Sit down now,” Tuyet Thuan said impatiently.

Although his tone was rough, he guided Vinh Long’s shoulder with a light grip. The dragon’s incomprehensible strength could easily shake it off and send him flying into the lake. Instead, the dragon obediently followed along, tilting his chin upward. Tuyet Thuan’s hand combed through the hair with careful strokes, unraveling thick knots with ease. The faint flow of the rushing lake and the fog cascading down in the distance past the wide pines filled the quiet space.

Presence—the presence of another being beside him in this solitary forest was familiar. It called Tuyet Thuan back to an old past. To his time as a youngling. A wisp of chiming laughter and the splatter of powdered snowballs itched the tips of Tuyet Thuan’s numbing fingers. He wiggled them back and forth every so often as he pulled the comb away, regaining the frigid sensation.

For elves like him, the cold affected them in every capacity. However, the cold could not harm them. Tuyet Thuan belonged in the winter, but it did not necessarily mean the winter did not obstruct his senses.

“Why did you stop? It feels comfortable,” Vinh Long finally said.

His eyes remained closed. Vinh Long’s body leaned back, posture loose and melting against Tuyet Thuan’s own. The pleasant body heat brushed against Tuyet Thuan, neutralizing the ever-present coldness, and stripping the sensation bare from his skin. Once again strange, but familiar to Tuyet Thuan.

The elf ran his hands through the untangled hair, watching it fall through his fingers like cascading water. He then brought the comb up and continued detangling the other side. The colors of rich gold and phantom-coal black swirled together and thawed away an old memory. With the pulling noises of the brush now and again, Tuyet Thuan slowly pieced together the arisen memories with a forlorn smile.

“You remind me of a little coal lizard I used to take care of,” Tuyet Thuan began.

“I do?”

“I found it as a block of ice on one of my earliest walks as a youngling. And when I thawed it, the little thing stuck to the hem of my robe and completely coated it black. I was so angry; I could’ve flung it away. But even as I pried it off me and set it down, it would follow from a distance, up until I returned home. I slid the door on it, not allowing it inside. But overnight,” Tuyet Thuan trailed off as he laughed, combing through an especially thick knot, and slowly untangling it with careful tugs in many directions.

“The little thing scratched my entrance black and managed to get itself frozen over once more. I don’t think I was any more dismayed than when I stepped out that morning. And just like now… I scrubbed it down good in the lake, before warming the wet thing in my bed chambers. So clingy and cute—it never wanted to leave. It was a shame when I found it had thrown a tantrum in my bedroom and escaped through the window after a few cycles of the moon. I suppose it had a will of its own, no longer wanting to be stuck by my side.

The little coal was dirtier than any creature I had seen in this forest. But with a gentle scrub, like your hair and crest, it glinted a mesmerizing…”

Gold.

Vinh Long held Tuyet Thuan’s wrist, and with a dripping gurgle of moving water, held it to his lips. The warm breath tingled Tuyet Thuan’s wet fingers, drying them off after a few huffs.

“You told me long ago to remember Tuyet Thuan—to remember the name of my savior carefully—the one who willfully kept me alive.”

“…I told that to my little black coal,” Tuyet Thuan replied in a slow, panicked whisper. Red rose from his neck with a continuous, strange burn.

Vinh Long’s draconic tail lightly thumped against Tuyet Thuan, before curling hesitantly around the elf’s side. Seeing as it wasn’t rejected, the scaly tail wound itself fully around Tuyet Thuan’s arm.

It was just as the little lizard did, clutching at his wrist whenever it was even remotely nearby. The little coal thing would scurry over in an adorable hurry, as if scared Tuyet Thuan would move away, and planted itself against his arm—a pulsing, but strangely pleasant sensation ebbing away the cold tone of his skin.

Warmth—the only traces of warmth. Tuyet Thuan attributed the sensation to the lingering comfort in his blankets or air caught in the cusp of his robed fur. But warmth—a true idea of warmth—had always existed in Tuyet Thuan’s mind like an anomaly. And the anomaly was because…a certain stupid coal lizard had always secretly emitted a faint, satisfying heat that was difficult to ignore once recognized.

“Haven’t I always been clean?” Vinh Long asked.

Tuyet Thuan’s stupid little coal would always dive after him in the snow, even so much as following him into the lake to bathe and clean. Tuyet Thuan’s delighted laughter echoed in the bubbling surface of memory, hugging the lizard tight to his chest as he stepped out of the water, gooseflesh rising in waves from the wind. The mischievous little thing would always scramble its way onto his chest. Despite Tuyet Thuan’s angry words, it wound its way up his neck and curled into a thick, scaly scarf, and then licked his cheek as if claiming to have done good. It would lower Tuyet Thuan’s boiling emotions to a simmer as the sleepy, comfortable heat spread from one body to the next.

“…You have,” Tuyet Thuan said.

“And haven’t I always been obedient?”

The little lizard slinking about echoed in Tuyet Thuan’s mind. He had shouted at the little thing, angry at its sticky behavior—and the pinching guilt followed as the little thing refused to come close for weeks on end. Tuyet Thuan could only catch sight of it from the corner of his eye, not even able to sleep with the stupid thing anymore as it pitifully sat at the corner of his blankets. When he couldn’t stand it anymore, Tuyet Thuan chased the stupid little coal for over half a day, trapping it in his arms and crying over it with big, embarrassing sobs. From then on, the little lizard lived very harmoniously by his side, sticking close, yet often maintaining distance at a quiet moment.

“You have,” Tuyet Thuan finally said.

“I’ve known you… for a long time as a youngling—and our time together. Didn’t you say it was tantamount to everything you wanted in a mate?”

As one memory fell, the others too, rushed to the forefront like a flurry of snowflakes, each dancing and spinning with recollection. Tuyet Thuan, confiding a sensitive, passing thought as the wind howled against the frame of his home, little thing curled up on his chest. 

Tuyet Thuan walked through the forest in the back, far from the other younglings at his own frail, trembling pace. He recalled watching their backs as they dove and brawled, magic sparking up in tremors of all kinds, while his Elder advised them all with a proud gaze. Such gaze melted away when it landed on Tuyet Thuan’s weak ball of ice, like spring’s claim on snow. The Elder held back a disappointed laugh as he presented the snowy forest, questioning why Tuyet Thuan would choose to master what is already so simple. But, even as Tuyet Thuan trailed behind them all, heart freezing over with every glancing remark, a little black coal would trail at his heels, jumping around at his hands in attempt to eat his ice.

Tuyet Thuan’s heart perhaps then… began to thaw.

“…I suppose, in some ways.” Tuyet Thuan managed to say, throat unable to move with such heavy pounding reverberating in his chest.

Words gnawed away at the snow elf. The wind blew relentlessly at Tuyet Thuan’s back. A snowflake landed on his cheek, before melting away down to his chin, where tears followed. The comb fell out of his limp hand.

“If this is all true, then why—why did you leave me,” Tuyet Thuan’s voice choked. “After all this, you were my stupid little coal. I never wanted you to go—I had nothing else. So why did you leave me?”  His shoulders shook with the tremors of centuries past. Vinh Long turned around in a flurry, wrapping Tuyet Thuan in a heavy embrace.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want an apology—I moved past this loss a long time ago.”

With a shaking breath, Tuyet Thuan stood up. “If nothing else, I ask that you leave. I don’t… I can’t… stand a person who’d leave without warning. I can never be at risk of it again. I told you before. I’m not interested in finding a partner. Not any longer.”

“Tuyet Thuan,” Vinh Long cried, reaching for his hand, even as the dragon’s tail fell away from Tuyet Thuan’s arm. The elf shook it off and strode away with heavy steps, as if his entire body had plunged into the icy lake behind him.

“You would’ve died if I stayed! This forest you loved so deeply—would’ve been nothing but cinders. I could not control it, I could not stay, I could not tell you—I didn’t have any control over transformation, over my power, over when my adolescence would cocoon into adulthood!”

Tuyet Thuan halted. “And then… you let yourself freeze?” He spun around, “You stupid thing, what if I hadn’t found you? You would have—!”

“But you saved me again. I knew you would—it would be no other. Tuyet Thuan, for the rest of my life, you told me to never forget the name of my savior. Tuyet Thuan.”

The way Vinh Long spoke his name was like fire melting through the glacier in Tuyet Thuan’s chest.

Vinh Long took another step, and then another. And slowly—tenderly—took Tuyet Thuan’s hand, gray and devoid of warmth, and interlocked their fingers. Vinh Long moved carefully, as if approaching an animal nigh ready to bolt through the maze of pines.

“There is no other,” Vinh Long said. “No other elf compares to your perseverance as deep as the icy ravines, your heart as sensitive as powdered snow, and your kindness melting the world around you. Tuyet Thuan—there will never be another. Will you be my mate?”

“No. I won’t.”

The wind howled after Tuyet Thuan’s words. Vinh Long slowly lowered his arm, letting his hand go slack as he pulled his hand away.

“But I can consider it again,” Tuyet Thuan continued, clenching Vinh Long’s hand tight. “In some ways you aren’t too terrible—better than anyone else I’ve spent time with. So, I suppose… I have no choice but to reconsider.”

Vinh Long laughed lowly as he pressed his forehead against Tuyet Thuan’s. “You’re cruel to me!”

Warmth spread from the touch of their foreheads—to the tips of their frost-bitten noses—to their lips.

“My coal lizard—you stupid thing. I’ve yet to forgive you for how you dirtied my home.”

“I didn’t know any better.”

“And how you spat melting ice down my sleeve.”

“…Did I really?”

“Or how you ripped the hem of my favorite robes.”

“…I have no recollection of doing such thing.”

Tuyet Thuan jabbed a finger in the dragon’s chest repeatedly, “We have a lot of time to review your mistakes. I recall you said ‘time was irrelevant’, so long as you became my mate. By then, you’re sure to confess to these problematic behaviors.”

“I’ll confess to you now,” Vinh Long interrupted, hugging Tuyet Thuan’s waist.

“Oh? Go ahead then—I’m listening close.”

“I love you,” he whispered, so faint and tender, it was like a secret not even the winds were allowed to carry away.

Tuyet Thuan flushed to the tip of his ears—they twitched sporadically as he hid his face in Vinh Long’s shoulder.

“You stupid thing.”

Warmth took hold, so honeyed and sweet it melted away the sharp, icy stakes embedded in his soul. Tuyet Thuan was unable to extricate himself.

“My stupid little coal.”

You finally returned.

 

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floofylove