Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Magic and Truth

Mikal DeVey growled low as he watched the scene unfold before him. Two men, both young and proud, neither willing to back down or compromise, circled one another. They had declared a death match--a fight to the end, no holds barred. Normally Mikal wouldn't have concerned himself with two men so foolish, but this time things were different. This time one of those idiots was his best friend's fiance.
Lady Jasmyne stood by Mikal's side, not looking much more amused than he, and clutching his arrm so tightly he was sure she had cut off the blood flow to his fingers. Her fool fiance had chosen to fight to the death over her honor, something she could have very well defended herself. Although, she thought with a smile, neither Mikal nor Jaroc would have allowed that without a fair bellow or two.
Mikal sighed for about the hundredth time and shifted his weight. He was there to support Jasmyne and knew his duty well. He did it out of honor to her as his leader and because she was the best friend he had ever known. She needed him now, but he needed something too. Or someone.

Damn it, man, concentrate! But as hard as he tried, he couldn't get that tiny little Irish woman out of his mind. The moment he'd left her that night, he knew how foolish the whole thing had been and vowed not to let things get out of control. He didn't need, nor did he want more heartache such as he had known. That was all Matty could bring...right?
Jasmyne suddenly moved by his side, snapping him out of his thoughts. He glanced down at her and noted with some amusement that she had turned away from the fight. Normally, she would chide anyone who had made such an action for being weak, but it was apparent she wasn't liking this fight one bit. He sighed, reaching out to put a comforting arm around her. She simply nodded her acknowledgement, too far gone in her own thoughts to respond properly.

Watching her for a moment, he turned his thoughts back inward. All it would take was one little thought...he could hear her voice again... Rolling his eyes, he sighed. He was not twelve years old and struck with a crush, and the moment his heart realized that everything would be fine.
Even as he chastised himself for thinking too much about her, he let his empathetic thoughts wander, searching the realm for her. He found her easily, realizing from her thoughts that she was back at the inn, tending and surrounded by family. Oh, how he longed to be there instead of where he was. He sighed softly and allowed his mind to touch hers, allowed her to be aware of his presence there, justifying it by telling himself that he needed support just as much as Jas did.

'Matty...'
There was a pause and Mikal grinned a little, picturing her head snapping up to look around for this voice invading her mind. If he could have seen her true reaction, he most likely would have either felt a great deal more guilty or fallen over laughing.

Back in the tavern, Matty's head did jerk up at the sound of Mikal's voice in her mind...only to slam into the bar counter. She had been digging underneath for a bottle for a customer when he'd contacted her, and though she had known empaths before--Zonker was an avid one himself--she had not been expecting him. In all reality, it had been a day and a half since they had spoken last and she figured he'd come to his senses and decided to keep his distance from her.
She picked herself up off the floor with a sheepish smile to the patron, handing them the bottle. Turning quickly, she raced into the back storage room and slammed the door shut, sagging back against it before answering him.
'Mikal? Is something wrong?'

'Matty...hello, no, nothing's wrong. I...I...no.'

She smiled faintly. He was lying. 'You don't lie very well, dear. What is it?'

'I...I need you, your support. I just need a presence to lean on, please..I just need you to be here for me. You don't even have to say anything.. Jasmyne, the poor dear, is being made to watch the whole thing...my heart goes out to her.' He grimaced at a particularly bloody move, glancing to Jas to see how she was holding up. She was studying the far wall with a great deal of intensity. He almost smiled.

Matty frowned into the dark storage room. Who the hell was Jasmyne and what was she being made to watch? She decided not to ask just yet. Maybe he'd reveal that to her gradually. She sensed the tension in his tone and determined to try and ease it a bit, turning the topic to something lighter.
'It's good to hear from you. I was afraid I'd run you off.'

'Matty, that would be nearly impossible. And it's good to talk to you again. I would be there in person if I could be, but...' He trailed off, not wanting her to fret. A death match was not a matter to be taken lightly.

'Things are rather quiet here anyway. Just the usual stuff. One exciting thing is we got our new shipment of Alberdarian Whiskey in. Good stuff.'
Matty rolled her eyes in the dark, glad he couldn't see the pink flush on her cheeks. Could she get anymore boring?

'Really? Mmm...It's all right. I do honestly need to be here for Jas...I'm worried a bit about her. I hate seeing her this way, she shouldn't have to watch this...'

There was this Jasmyne again. Matty bristled, not bothering to hide her reaction this time. She forced her internal voice to remain as aloof as possible.
'This Jasmyne...do you love her?' A bit blunt, but it served her purpose.

Mikal blinked, suddenly unaware of the fight or of Jasmyne or anything other than Matty. Was that jealousy he'd heard in her tone? Pure curiousity? Indifference? Was she only making conversation or was that actually a bit of hurt that he detected? He chuckled lightly and Jasmyne looked up at him curiously from his side. He didn't even notice.
'Lords, no, Matty...unless you mean in the way that a brother loves his sister. She is my best friend, and I consider her family.'

There was a long, silent pause. On her end, Matty was clinging to her skirts in an effort not to leap into the air with joy. On his end, Mikal held his breath.

Matty forced the noncholance back into her tone, grinning outwardly all the while. 'Oh...well that's wonderful. I have several brothers in that respect myself. I hope everything turns out well where you are.'

Mikal smiled a bit to himself, about to reply when Jasmyne suddenly whacked him in the side with her elbow. The fight was over! She beamed up at him, tugging his arm as she headed towards the ring where Jaroc, her dearest fiance, stood victorious.
She threw her arms around him and Mikal stood back, watching, smiling softly. They were a beautiful couple, not yet married but not needing to be to share the love the held. The were a truly rare breed....soulmates.
Jasmyne's eyes brightened as she gazed at Jaroc, glancing to Mikal suddenly.
"We must be married. Now. This night."

Mikal and Jaroc both stared at her, eyes wide in disbelief for a moment, but both recovered quickly and smiled back. Jaroc voiced his agreement and it went forth without a hitch...or without much of one. Nothing went without a hitch when Jasmyne was involved. Mikal kept half a mind on it, and half on Matty.

When he realized he was wishing she was by his side for this ceremony, he frowned and shook his head out. What a fool he was, a sorry, mindless fool. She would hurt him. Nothing good could come of it. He told himself this over and over, determined to have it embedded in his brain before the night was over.
He watched the wedding, but didn't honestly see it. He hoped he wouldn't be quizzed on it later, for if he was, he would fail miserably. Gods, this woman would not get out of his head! He had to see her. Tonight. He couldn't wait any longer. The moment the wedding was over, he would leave, he would go to her.

Jasmyne was suddenly by his side, hugging him, kissing his cheek. He was shaking Jaroc's hand and waving them off without even realizing what he was doing. And then he was standing there alone with one thought, one person on his mind. Matty.
He whirled for the door, grabbing his cloak as he went. Whether she wanted his company or not, she was going to have it. He needed a friend, that was all. That was all. He repeated that over and over again as he blurred into a dragon and took to the sky.

He repeated it even more fervently as the warm little tavern came into view. He repeated it out loud as he landed, metamorphasizing back into a man. He was nearly shouting it as he opened the door to the tavern, then stopped short and held his breath.

She was there, unaware of his presence for the moment, just as he remembered her. Her unruly red curls fell to her waist unbound and she bounced a bit, humming a tune to herself that he didn't quite recognize. She whirled in a dance matching her song, swept up in herself. The moment she saw him she froze, beaming.
"Hello!" she cried out, then paused, furrowing her brow. "My goodness! Sit down..."
Matty couldn't believe what was happening. Mikal looked awful, as though someone had just killed his favorite steed. How could he have regressed back into such a state? Had whatever made him contact her tonight done this to him?

He smiled faintly at her as he collasped into the nearest chair gratefully. The death match and all that chanting to himself had taken all the energy he'd had.
"Thanks...think I will..."

Matty's eyes widened in concern as she hurried back to the bar to pour him a cup of tea from the pot she'd been brewing in the hopes that he would stop by this evening. She stirred it a bit before bringing it to his chair.
"Here, hon...hold on..."
He watched her, wondering what she was up to this time. Without another word, she moved behind his chair and pushed it with all her might towards the hearth. The chair jerked slightly before sliding with great protest towards the roaring fire.
"Hey now...make me spill this and I'll be mighty unhappy,"
he teased, amazed by her strength. She must have been training since last they spoke. He shifted the teacup carefully in his hand so as not to spill any and smiled at her.

She laughed and grunted, giving the chair one last shove before stepping back, clapping her hands in satisfaction.
"You're going to complain about my hospitality?" She stood next to his chair, hands on her hips defiantly.

"No, ma'am..." he sighed, propping his feet up on the hearth as he took a sip of tea. "Matty?"

She smiled. "I'm too young to be a ma'am, Mikal. Just plain Matty." She glanced at him, brow lifted, as she headed back towards the bar. "Hmm?"

"Do you by any chance have a room to spare for the night? I'm far too tired to head all the way back to the Hall tonight."
His voice sounded positively exhausted and she frowned. She didn't like him being this tired. And his next words confused and vexed her all the more. "Probably fly into a damn mountain or some such crap..."

She blinked, wondering what that meant. Of course, if he wanted her to know, he'd tell her. Instead of pushing it, she smiled and turned to the large training sack hanging from the rafters in one corner of the inn, attacking it vigorously. It had been a long night, and her energy level had somehow increased because of Mikal's presence tonight. Perhaps it was because she wasn't expecting him and his visit had startled her. Yes, that must be it, she told herself.
"Of course you can stay here, Mikal. I wouldn't dream of tossing you out." She felt his eyes on her as she worked but didn't let up in her assault.
Mikal lifted a brow, blinking. "Thanks...Matty? Feeling a bit stressed?"
She snorted and kicked the bag harder. "You have no idea....I'll live, though."

Maybe. Gods, tonight had been pure hell. She had finally broken things off completely with Condal. He hadn't been pleased at all, especially upon hearing that she'd made a new friend. He was immediately suspicious, and of course had pulled his begging and sobbing and dramatics on her. She had finally learned to ignore it, though, forcing herself to close her heart off to the world.
Most of the world anyway. Save one man.
Mikal's sigh brought her back to the present. "My fault...I'm sorry as hell to have called on you like that..."
His voice was as soft as the first night they'd met again and Matty stopped attacking her bag, panting hard. She couldn't let him fall back into that place, so she turned her full attention on him, whether he wanted it or not.
"No...not you...I'd do that again in a second..." She smiled, then flushed slightly as she became aware that she was panting like an animal and dripping sweat. She brushed her forearm across her face and tried to look as cool as possible.

His gaze fell back to the hearth. She sighed softly and crossed the room back to his side, sitting on the arm of the couch to face him. She realized then that she was barefoot as well, with her sleeves shoved up to her elbows, hair unbound. She must have looked afright and wouldn't have blamed him at all if he'd just gotten up and walked out. She was fairly sure that his beloved Jasmyne never looked so heathen.
"How are you, by the way? You really had me scared."

"I'm better...sorry to have scared you, but I was pretty scared myself for a bit there..."

She shook her head. "Don't worry about me. Helping is what I'm here for, and as long as things turned out good, then it's fine." She smiled reassuringly.

He sighed and stretched, wincing a bit and nearly spilling his tea. Matty frowned, standing immediately. Something was wrong. He was hurt. She was amazed by the wash of panic that accompanied that thought, followed by rage towards the one that had hurt him.
"Are you hurt?"

"Just stiff is all, Matty...nothing a hot bath won't cure..."

"I have a better idea," she frowned, pushing a footstool between the hearth and his chair. She patted it gently. "Sit here, I'll be right back."

Mikal blinked, shrugging and doing as she asked, too tired to argue. That death match had taken more out of him than he'd thought. Plus Jasmyne's death grip on his arm the entire time didn't help matters much. He watched her curiously, quietly sipping his tea.

She had hurried off into the kitchen and was now returning with a large wooden bucket of steaming water and a heap of towels in the crook of her arm. He blinked at her, startled. She wasn't thinking of...
"Matty? What...?"

She smiled enchantingly, dropping her supplies by the side of the armchair as she crawled into it, kneeling behind him.
"I won't hurt you, now turn around and take you shirt off."
She pushed her sleeves up even farther and situated the bucket to where she could reach it easily, tucking the towels in behind her in the chair.

He sighed, relenting, and turned to face the hearth again. Slowly, he set down the teacup and removed his shirt. Matty wasn't prepared for what she saw. A massive, intricate dragon tattoo covered his entire back, from the base of his neck to below his waistline. It seemed to be a deep, shimmering blue and almost...alive. Just like his eyes, not that I'd notice or anything.
She smiled softly at the artwork. "That's beautiful...when did you get it?" Without waiting for an answer, she dipped one of the towels into the bucket of water and wrung it out, laying it lightly across his shoulders. Gently she began to knead his muscles through the steaming cloth.

Mikal shuddered slightly as the cloth and her hands came in contact with the tattoo. The damned woman was lighting fires in him without trying, and she didn't even know it. He determined then and there that she wouldn't know it, either. Not tonight anyway.
"Born with it, Matty...and please do be careful with your hands, as it's very sensitive..." His voice was painfully quiet, and Matty lifted a brow at the odd tone in it. She nodded, whispering to match his softness.
"I'm sorry...I'll try not to touch it." She kneaded at his shoulders gently but firmly until the towel cooled, then dipped it into the water again. Once it was thoroughly heated, she wrung it out and reapplied it lower down, working her hands along it and keeping mindful of the tattoo.

To her surprise, he laughed. "Matty dear, it covers almost my entire back. All that I ask is that you be aware that I might flinch now and again as your hands come in contact with it...okay?" His voice was gentle, teasing, reassuring.

"Okay...but I'll still try." She remained determined, smiling as she worked.

"Mmm...don't worry about it. Goddess above, that feels good, Matty..."

"Youre in awful shape, Mikal...how in the world did you get so terribly tense?" she asked, frowning as her hands fluttered over a rather large knot in his muscles. Without thinking, she tackled it vigorously, working to get it out. And working to get the memory of his deep, gentle voice out of her mind as he responded to her hands.

He winced, biting back a smile at her attack on his muscles. "Watching a death match does that to one, Matty..." Well that answered that question. No wonder he was so worked up. She had yet to witness a neat, clean, or fair death match.

"I'm sorry...remind me never to fight to the death around you..." She caught his wince and immediately gentled her actions. As if in response, the tattoo shimmered irridecently for a moment and he shuddered. She grinned at the action and rewet the towel, draping it down the middle of his back as her hands worked at several more knots--far more gently--across his shoulders.

"No, they need to go....I'm all right." His voice was quiet, eyes focused on the hearth before him. She smiled gently.
"You don't look all right..."

He let out a quiet, almost relaxed groan as she spread her hands across the width of his back. His head dropped into his hands, letting himself go to her completely.
"I'm fine...lords above, woman...where in the universe did you learn this trick...?"

"Common sense taught me. It's where I learned most of my tricks." She smiled quietly, pressing a bit harder with her palms along either side of his spine. She was not unaware of the power and silkiness beneath her fingers. Gods, he was like no man she'd ever seen.

"Mmm...you could make a fortune, Matty, with those hands..." The outline of the dragon shimered lightly again, catching her attention. She smiled shyly at the compliment and shrugged it off, working up his neck gently so as to avoid the tattoo. He instinctively arched his neck into her hands.
"I'm sure you've had better massages, Mikal. It's just because of the state you're in," she rationalized, smiling at his reaction.

"I don't think so, Matty..." His voice was quiet, muffled by his hands. "It's wonderful, but that's not the real reason either...it's..." He stopped himself before his thoughts got out of control. Damn her for making him mindless.

She smiled and dipped her hands into the steamy water to warm them before continuing. "Well then you need to get out more. Tell me when I've tortured you enough and I'll stop."

He chuckled softly. "You ready to spend eternity...or at least the next hundred years or so doing what you're doing now?" He paused to groan with pleasure before speaking up again. "Matty, seriously...there are not many that have the hands or the skill to do what you are doing...and you don't even know..."

She laughed gently, chiding him. "Mikal, seriously...this is the first theraputic massage I've ever given in my life, so you don't even know..."

"Matty, it's also the first you've ever done one a dragon..." His voice was very relaxed and slightly richer, the outline shimmering as if to accentuate it. Matty's brow shot up curiously, but she dismissed the comment. He wasn't thinking straight.
She removed the towel, sitting back a bit. "Best customer I've ever had in any case...lean back against the chair."

He sighed deeply as he did her bidding, leaning back and absently rolling his shoulders in the same action. He let out a little satisfied groan as she rested his head against her knees, her hands moving down to his temples. It was now or never if she was going to find out what all this dragon stuff was about...
"The dragon on your back...why does it change color and shine like that?"

His eyes were closed so she couldn't read them. "A reflection of the dragon, Matty."

What the hell was that supposed to mean? She lowered her voice in response to his near whisper instinctively leaning closer. "What does that mean?"

"Brave enough to see?"

"I'm brave enough for anything. What is it?" She smiled defiantly as she gently rubbed his temples with her thumbs, the rest of her fingers splayed along the back of his neck.

"I'll show you, but...Matty, you'll have to let me up..." He gave a soft groan and a little shudder of pleasure even as he spoke. She smirked back, teasing.

"Brave enough to let me stop?"

"I think it would be safer, yes..."

"Safer?" She laughed, wondering what in the world that meant.

He opened an eye and looked at her, his gaze holding a hint of green fire for a moment. "Safer."

There was something strange about that gaze...what cou--Mikal didn't have green eyes. It took Matty a moment to come to that realization, but it finally hit her. Who is this man? she asked herself for the millionth time in two days.
She removed her hands from his head and fell back into her chair, nudging him up with her knees. "I didn't realize I was in danger," she managed, a small smile fluttering across her lips. For the briefest of moments, she wondered if she was in danger, if she shouldn't get up and run like hell.

Mikal didn't smile in return, sighing instead. He stood and flexed his shoulders absently as his blue eyes scanned the room, muttering something she would have missed had she not been listening so intently. "More than you know..." She lifted a brow and he cleared his throat, raising his voice so she could hear him clearly. "The dimensions of this room are...?"

"I'm not sure...we've had rather large beasts in here before with no problem, and the room can hold a hundred people across...why?"
She crossed her arms, watching him. Suddenly his murmured word "safer" came to mind again. "When are you going to explain what 'safer' meant?"

Mikal walked to the center of the room without looking at her. "I'm going to show you the relfection of the dragon, Matty..." He glanced her way upon her last question, whispering, "...some other night, my friend..."
Without any further hesitation, he turned again so that his back was to her. "Watch the outline carefully, Matty...I'll do this slow so that you can see..." His voice was even and lulling. Teaching. She nodded, brow lifted.

He stood very straight, his shoulders back, the light dancing off the outline of the tattoo. As she watched, the entire thing began to slowly shimmer brighter and brighter, seeming to grow in some way so that it surrounded and absorbed his human form. Slowly, the two blended together, the dragon outline becoming a part and one with the man...or was it the man becoming one with the dragon?
Finally, there was just the dragon, real and solid, the same irridecent blue that the tattoo had been. It's wings lay folded neatly along it's back and it's massive body curled in the center of the floor where only moments before Mikal had stood.