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Zag has some interesting hypotheses about their hosts, but at least they're friendly and generous. When it comes to food, maybe a bit too generous, though...
Oh no, is that.... is that....???
PLOT?
Despite being long-established, I've never really explored this part of Rangavar's story in actual writing, so this was an interesting exercise.
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Under Ice
Chapter 3
“Okay, spill it. What do you know that I don’t?”
Zag’s ears flattened beneath Rangavar’s glare.
“You’ve been acting weird ever since we got here. And why the fake names?” Rangavar threw up his paws. “And why is mine so awful, by the way?”
“I thought I did a pretty good job,” Zag protested. “Or like, an okay-job, at least.”
“Right, you gave me the world’s okayest-name,” Rangavar rolled his eyes, “…but, why?”
“You can always just, change it if you want. You can tell everyone I don’t actually know you that well, and say I got your name wrong. And pick a new one yourself,” said Zag helpfully.
“I meant more like, why should we hide information?”
Zag fidgeted uncomfortably from where he was sitting on the bed. He was watching Rangavar pace back and forth in frustration, the light of the single torch in their room flashing across his dark gray scales. He kept pausing to turn back to where Zag was sitting. “Why the secrecy?”
“Have… have you noticed how all of these dragons look?” said Zag carefully.
“What, that they’re… large?” Rangavar shook his head. “So?” If anything, the layers of blubber were probably protecting everyone from the cold. Even this far from the surface weather, the air coming down here from the vents was chilly. The dragons here had to adapt.
“I meant their other traits.” Zag stopped fidgeting and sat up a bit straighter for a moment. His belly still looked a bit bloated from his binge yesterday, and it bulged off his front more prominently when he shifted forward, covering part of his lap. Well, a good portion of his lap. “They’re clearly all from the same region. And… well, the dark gray scales. And dark gray wings.” Zag blushed. Rangavar could tell he was feeling more and more awkward as he tried to explain. “And their wings are darker than their scales, which is a really specific trait.”
Rangavar stared blankly. “So?”
Zag stared back. “So…” He gestured helplessly for a second. “What if they’re Iylarian?”
Rangavar frowned. “Like Ayla?” When they’d first met, she’d explained to him that she came from Iylara. She’d left because the people were plagued with corruption, or something. She’d never mentioned a large community may have split off and traveled somewhere else.
Zag watched him for a reaction. “Say that again, but slowly.”
He scowled. “So they might be related to Ayla’s people,” he acknowledged. “That would be a weird coincidence, but I don’t see your point.”
Zag started getting annoyed. “And who’s Ayla related to?”
It took Rangavar a moment. He said slowly, “You mean me.” He and Ayla hadn’t met until well into adulthood. He’d only heard second-hand stories of where she was from, and hardly thought of it as his own history.
Although he finally understood what Zag was getting at, quite a few things didn’t make sense. “Even if you’re right about any of that—” he still wasn’t sure that he was, although he made a convincing argument, “— and I am, somehow, distantly related to these people… So what?” And Zag was still refusing to answer the question that’d been plaguing him from the start: “Why do our identities have to be a secret?”
They were interrupted by the sound of someone coming from down the hall.
“Vaugh dammit,” Rangavar muttered under his breath. He jabbed a black claw at the other dragon. “We’re continuing this conversation later.”
Zag only nodded. It was another minute before the dragon made it down the curving hallway towards their room. It turned out being Rift again; since they’d only met the one time, briefly, Rangavar hadn’t learned to recognize his aura yet. When he appeared in the doorway, he leaned on one side with his arms crossed. “I hope everything here is to your liking?”
Rangavar could tell he was just being polite. “Yeah. Thanks.” Now that Zag mentioned it, he also noticed that Rift’s scale pattern did look pretty similar to his own. Rangavar was so used to standing out in a crowd that the idea of finding anywhere he wouldn’t, was actually a bit weird. It certainly wouldn’t have been on his mind if Zag hadn’t pointed it out. Between him and Rift, the most noticeable differences were that Rangavar’s horns were black from becoming a Darkal, and he also had a rather large scar on his right cheek that he didn’t like to think about. Their other traits… well, Zag had a point.
“It is my understanding that the two of you intend to leave later.” Rift continued hovering in the doorway as he spoke. From his expression, he looked like he was studying them. Still curious, but still wary. “Before you go, Garren wants to talk to you. He wants you to meet him for lunch; you two must be hungry by now.”
The two Darkals resisted sharing a brief glance. Word hadn’t gotten out that they’d gone wandering for a ‘snack’ the night before. Rangavar could tell that Zag was actually still feeling a little bloated, but the chubbier dragon nodded determinedly. “Alright, great.” It wasn’t really unusual for him not to turn down food.
“Then follow me.”
The three of them set off down the hallway.
They eventually arrived at the same round room as before, although only Garren was there now. There were already several plates set out on the stone table waiting for them, with what Zag realized was more fruit from the garden. He didn’t really think they were that bad, no matter what Rangavar said.
Rift left after a nod at Garren.
The thick, stocky dragon beckoned them over. “Sit. Have a meal with me before you go. I’d also like to hear a bit about what’s been going on in the other worlds.” He grinned a bit. He was already sitting at the table, a full plate before him. “It’s been a very, very long time since we’ve heard any news.”
Zag still felt full from the calorie-dense snack he’d had the night before, but he wouldn’t turn down a free meal. It would have been rude anyway, right? Surely, he could fit just a bit more, so as not to offend their host. Yeah.
He sat down in front of a plate, where there was more unrecognizable vegetation from the garden. He wasn’t really sure he could call it anything other than vegetation. Did the plant life on this world have an equivalent difference between fruits and vegetables? Was this something else entirely?
He glanced over at Rangavar, who ended up sitting across from him. Although his face was neutral, Zag could tell he was feeling less than enthusiastic.
“As I mentioned, we’ve never actually had company before,” Garren chuckled, starting on his own meal. Zag took that as his cue to eat, copying the way that Garren was tackling each food. His teeth easily sliced through the soft surface of the first thing he tried. He wasn’t really sure what he’d been expecting, but after the first bite, he realized it tasted… actually pretty good. The inside was soft and sugary sweet, like a fruit after all.
He glanced across the table to see Rangavar picking at his own. Zag sensed he wasn’t very impressed.
“It’s true we’re technically stranded here. We gave up on the idea of getting off this world long ago. It’s incredible that you two have shown up out of nowhere.” Garren was already finishing up the first piece of the food on his plate, although there was plenty more. No wonder everyone here was a bit on the ‘large’ side, with an appetite that could handle all that! Zag was still full from having that amount just the night before. He didn’t know how he was going to eat all of this, too.
Not into the food very much himself, Rangavar picked up the slack of answering Garren’s questions, most of which were pretty general. Although, it was quickly evident that the people had been here so long, even the simplest of questions were requiring lengthy explanations to satisfy Garren’s curiosity, so there weren’t any lulls in the conversation. And with Rangavar doing most of the work, it gave Zag more time to eat.
He tried to work through the food slowly, but it was actually tasty enough that he was eating it at a pretty regular speed. Not exactly wolfing it down, but before he knew it, he’d already finished his own plate. Even Garren had fallen behind, since he’d been distracted by talking.
Finally, the other dragon looked over at him. “Oh! Would you like some more?”
“I’m a little full,” Zag started to say, but Garren was already beckoning towards someone waiting in the hallway. Zag had been so focused on eating that he’d barely noticed anyone else nearby, although now someone stepped forward to refill his plate.
“I forgot that by now it’s probably been more than an entire day since you last ate,” Garren apologized. Oh, if only he knew. Zag could only nod and pick up the next juicy fruit-thing. He supposed it would be rude to not eat it, right? He couldn’t just stop, after Garren had gone through the trouble of giving him extra.
He carefully pushed more of it into his mouth as the other two resumed their conversation, feeling his packed gut swelling under the pressure. He discreetly rubbed his belly under the table a bit, trying to relieve some of the pressure by kneading the doughy flab. He only had to make a little more room, and then he’d be done. His belly gurgled a bit in protest, but fortunately, Garren didn’t seem to hear.
“We originally came from an island called Iylara,” Garren was saying as he and Rangavar talked. Zag felt a tiny spark of satisfaction that he’d been right. “When the population left, most wanted to settle down on another world, but the rest of us wanted to settle down elsewhere.” Garren gave a wry smile. “I have to admit, this isn’t exactly what we had in mind. We didn’t have enough fuel to keep going, or to get back, so we’ve been here ever since.”
Rangavar was nodding along carefully. He’d managed to pick halfway through his own food without making any faces, but Zag got the impression that it was taking a great deal of self-control. “Grow up,” he thought at him.
Now, Rangavar was also suppressing a scowl.
“How long have you all been here?” Zag butted in, deciding it was time for him to add to the conversation. It was at least a chance to take his nose out of his food for a second. As it was, he still had some left on the plate to get through, and he needed a breather.
“Well, we set out right after everyone left the island.” Garren shrugged. “This wasn’t our long-term plan, but we’ve made this place our home. Everyone is happy and healthy here.”
Yes, ‘healthy’ was one way to put it, Zag supposed. They were certainly immune to starvation. “And now you have no interest in leaving?” Rangavar wasn’t the only one bitter about all of their wasted time and effort, not to mention their current predicament.
Garren half-shrugged, for the first time looking a bit uncertain. “Just because these weren’t our plans, doesn’t mean this isn’t our home,” he said vaguely.
It didn’t really answer, but Zag let it go. He and Rangavar had been through enough trouble that there was no point in devoting extra time to convincing them they ought to leave. To what end? The sheer size of the community was larger than they could have taken back with them anyway.
Across the table, Rangavar thought at him, “Was that supposed to be a pun?”
Zag scowled and thought back, “Now who’s in whose head?”
Rangavar suppressed a smirk as Garren gave Zag a confused glance. “What’s wrong?”
Oops. He’d forgotten to hide his facial expression. Zag just slowly shook his head and replied out loud, “Just thinking. Sorry.”
“I’m sorry you came all the way out here for us,” said Garren. Perhaps he was more perceptive than either of the Darkals were giving him credit for. “Just to find us actually living here.”
“It doesn’t matter now,” Rangavar picked the conversation back up, having finally finished eating during the lapse. Or, at least finished pushing it around his plate.
Zag took the opportunity to try hurrying up his own meal, eager to be done. He could feel his belly strain uncomfortably with each bite as he crammed the strange fruits into his mouth. He felt like a savage as juice dribbled down his snout, but was trying to finish while Garren wasn’t looking. The last thing he needed was for the friendly leader to call for more. He could barely fit another bite.
Almost… done… When the plate was finally cleared, Zag let out a satisfied sigh. He hoped he looked more relaxed than he felt, with his stomach uncomfortably taut. Although it was true he at least felt ready to slip into a food coma.
“Oh, excellent. I’m glad you enjoyed our food so much.” Garren didn’t seem surprised that Zag had finished it all, as if it were a normal portion size, or something. Zag disagreed, his distended stomach complaining uncomfortably.
“We appreciate the hospitality,” said Rangavar.
“After all you went through, it was no trouble.” Garren pushed himself to his feet, Rangavar quickly following his lead. Zag found himself having a bit more trouble, his movements slow and bloated, his gut so swollen it actually brushed the edge of the table a bit.
“If you’re ready to go, we can provide you some warm clothes that would protect you better on the surface,” Garren offered as they made their way from the room. “Although I have to warn you, the weather is still terrible up there.”
Rangavar’s ears flattened. “How long does bad weather usually last on this world?” He was trying to sound casual, but even the non-telepath in the room wasn’t fooled.
Garren gave him a sympathetic glance. “This time of year, maybe only a few days.”
“‘Only’ a few?” Now Rangavar sounded annoyed. Zag sensed he might also be feeling… anxious? Zag frowned. Or is that me? That’s probably me.
The broader, slightly taller dragon gestured down the hall. “If you’d like to stay longer, you’re perfectly welcome. I’d personally recommend it. You can stay until the weather lets up.”
Rangavar sighed. Zag personally wouldn’t mind going back to their room to lie down, anyway. Probably slip into that food coma he was fighting and sleep off his binge.
Of course, Rangavar could sense his mood. Zag felt him stifle a sigh. “You’re sure it’s alright if we stay until the storm passes?”
“I don’t see why not.” The larger dragon suddenly gave him a friendly clap on the shoulder. “I’ll walk with you two. We’ll get you some better accommodations, and maybe a small tour of the place to pass the time. I’m sure you’re curious.”
“Oh good,” Rangavar thought towards Zag as they headed back to the large central cavern. “I’d love to spend my time staring at rocks instead of getting out of here.”
“We should just be grateful,” Zag thought back. “They’re doing us a huge favor.” He had to admit, though, the situation was less than ideal.
“That’s an understatement,” Rangavar thought.
Zag scowled.
“How do you like it?”
“We already agreed not to go into each other’s minds! Let’s leave it at that!”
While they weren’t being watched by Garren, Rangavar glanced at Zag and smirked.
Their new living quarters were deeper into the cavern than Zag had even realized it went. This room was basically carved out of a relatively square mound of rock, but it was plenty big enough for just the two dragons. And this one had a door and window.
Rangavar paused to glare at the fact that there was only one large bed again, but Zag didn’t waste any time flopping down on it and groaning. He clutched at his swollen belly, rubbing it gently with his paws. “Why did I do that.”
Rangavar raised a brow. “Why did you ask for seconds?”
“I didn’t ask! He just had them brought to me! I couldn’t just say no!”
The corner of Rangavar’s mouth quirked up. “You’re awfully defensive about that.”
“Shut up,” Zag groaned again, rolling over a bit to bury his face in the blankets. Shifting made his stomach sag against the mattress, and also made him more aware of how full and heavy he felt. He gently pushed his fingers into the blubber, trying to knead some of the pressure away. He felt slightly better as his paws squished into the layers of adipose.
Rangavar sighed and came over to sit on the bed next to him. “I can’t believe we’re stuck here for a few more days.”
“At least a few more days,” Zag helpfully reminded him. It only made Rangavar scowl, though. “It won’t be so bad,” he tried to reassure him instead. “This gives us the chance to rest and recover from all the time on the ship it took to get here. Not to mention the, well… all the stuff that happened after landing.”
“I feel like we’ve done plenty of resting.” Rangavar sighed, finally flopping back onto the bed at Zag’s side. Zag turned to look at him slightly, although he didn’t stop rubbing his scaly tum. He was pretty sure the kneading was finally starting to help.
Rangavar was staring up at the ceiling, and Zag rolled over to stare up at it with him. He was ready for that food coma now, but the thoughts churning through his head were keeping him awake. He and Rangavar had the same unspoken worry.
When were they getting out of here?
Relatively average-sized clothes fit easily over Rangavar’s body. Zag wasn’t as lucky. At least the people here were varied enough in size that he had plenty of options.
Rangavar quickly finished pulling on his own warm clothes, provided to them as Garren had promised. Neither of them were intending to go up to the surface right now, obviously, but Zag had to admit it was a relief to finally get the chilly air down here directly off his scales. Where the two Darkals were from, clothing could be optional; in a place like this, it was pure necessity.
Zag wrinkled his snout unhappily at the tight pants that refused to move up farther than his thighs.
“You’ll find something.” Rangavar crossed his arms in amusement as he watched. There was a shower room at the back of their temporary living arrangement with a large mirror they were currently using. Well, that Zag was currently using. “That really big guy who helped us find food was wearing clothes that fit, so you definitely have plenty of sizes to choose from.”
“I’m also a bit full from lunch,” Zag huffed, refusing to believe the sight of the pale gray dragon in the mirror. That flushed, straining dragon looked quite a bit rounder than the dragon he remembered seeing in the mirrors back home. The ship hadn’t had any mirrors that showed more than his face and shoulders, so he hadn’t seen anything else in a while.
Now, standing in front of a full-sized mirror, Zag wasn’t happy about the way that his bloated belly sagged off his frame. He’d always had a bit of a paunch, but his thick, jiggling thighs and flabby upper torso were definitely softer than he remembered. He sighed. The extra weight couldn’t be entirely explained away by bloating from his hearty lunch. “Vaugh dammit.”
“They left a whole pile of clothes for us to try on. Just choose something else.”
“That’s not the point, Rangavar,” he growled, staring at his reflection. Darkals used so much of their energy for things like magic that they weren’t even supposed to be able to gain weight. Every roll and curve was a direct result of Zag’s choices. He’d tried dieting before, but he always ended up binging when he started to feel bad about it. Which led to him feeling worse. Which then led to more binging.
“Hey, I’ll grab you something to try on, okay?” Rangavar could obviously pick up on his mood. He was trying to be helpful. “I’ll be back in a sec.”
When Rangavar disappeared back into their room, Zag self-consciously hefted his belly in his paws, feeling the weight of it. It was heavier than he expected. Beneath the cream-colored scales, the collection of adipose squished in his arms. How had he managed to let this happen in only a few months? He ended up squeezing the soft flab, looking at how deeply his fingers indented the soft surface. There was nothing solid beneath it. Pure pudge.
Rangavar returned with some other clothes, handing Zag what looked like a cozy sweatshirt. “You’ll find something.”
Zag wasn’t convinced, but he took it anyway. “Thanks.” He was at least grateful for the encouragement. Although Rangavar didn’t seem to notice, whenever Zag was feeling down, he became… nicer. More sympathetic towards him, maybe. Zag would never dare point it out, or that would end real fast. He was well aware Rangavar wasn’t his biggest fan.
He shook out the sweatshirt and started to pull it over his head, careful not to catch his horns. It would be ironic to finally find something that fit, and then accidentally destroy it. He was surprised when he finally felt the hem reach the bottom of his gut. It was true that his belly was pressing firmly against the front, giving it a noticeable bulge, but none of the other shirts had come close so far.
Zag turned slightly in the mirror, inspecting it.
“It looks fine.”
“You’re only saying that to make me hurry up.”
In the mirror, Zag saw Rangavar scowl. The much pudgier dragon reached for a new pair of pants, hoping his streak of luck would continue. The warm, thick fabric of his next try slid up more easily than the previous pair. He could still see Rangavar watching in amusement behind him as he began to haul them over his ass. “Do you have to stare at me?”
Rangavar looked away. “Sorry. I’ll be out here if you need me.”
Zag hoped he wouldn’t need him. He didn’t want to try on any more pants. He hauled on his current pair, determined to get them up to his waist at least.
They were clinging pretty tightly around his thighs. He inched them up over his smooth scales until they were eventually halted by the budge of his belly, but that was pretty much what he was expecting. After a bit of straining, grunting, and sucking in, he was finally able to get the button closed. When he let out his breath in relief, his middle pressed more tightly against the shirt fabric, but the outfit wasn’t half bad. It would at least work until he could try on more clothes later. He was too sick of trying them on for now.
“See?” said Rangavar when he emerged. “Knew you’d find something.”
“Later, I’m going to try and find something more comfortable,” Zag huffed as he hopped on the bed. When he did so, his gut pressed harder into his pants, and the sweatshirt rode up a bit. Vaugh dammit.
Rangavar raised a brow. “You could just try and find something more comfortable now.”
Zag shook his head. “I need a break.”
“Are you actually just hoping things will fit better after you digest all of that dense, heavy food?” Across the room, Rangavar was still adjusting his own warmer clothes slightly, which consisted of what looked like a pretty regular jacket and pants. Zag had no idea what any of this stuff was made of, and couldn’t imagine the material without going over to touch it. He assumed all the clothes were made out of something from the underground garden. At least they were warm.
“Zag?”
Zag snapped out of his thoughts to realize Rangavar was still talking. “Yeah? Sorry.”
The other dragon looked annoyed. “I said, we also need to finish the conversation we started this morning.” Zag stared blankly at him for a moment until he elaborated, “Why are we being so secretive?”
“Oh.” Zag had been struggling to think of ways to explain. He wasn’t sure he’d succeeded. “These dragons came here like, a bajillion years ago, or whatever,” he started. “Garren confirmed that himself. They lived on the island.”
“So?” Rangavar crossed his arms. “Hey, I know you’re a huge history nerd and stuff, but honestly Ayla would be way more excited to talk about this stuff than I am. I barely know anything about them, and certainly not anything useful.”
Zag quickly shook his head. “That’s not my point.” It was true that he loved history, but ancient Iylarian politics weren’t really his thing. What he did know was a thing or two about the members he’d met of Rangavar’s family. “Two of your siblings grew up with the other Iylarians, right? And when they tried to leave, the other Iylarians did everything in their power to stop them, right?”
“I guess.” Rangavar still had a blank look on his face, not following.
Zag spread his paws. “These people and those people split off from each other when you and your siblings were still very young. Even though you weren’t there when they split,” Zag interrupted when Rangavar opened his mouth, “they still knew about you then. They knew your name. So, if any of these dragons are even older than you are, they’ll remember you.”
Rangavar seemed to ponder that for a moment. “I mean, I guess. Although that’d be really fuckin’ old.”
“Garren talked about it as if he was there,” Zag shrugged. He wasn’t sure how old Garren seemed, but not every Faerian dragon aged the same way. Especially the ones that won the genetic lottery and were able to live indefinitely. “He’d know exactly who you are.” Zag self-consciously tried pulling down on the hem of his sweatshirt again, but it slid right back up over his tum. “So, if they realized you’re literally Rangavar… what if they tried to… stop… you?”
“From what?” Rangavar scoffed. “You mean leaving? What, like a prisoner? Why would they do that?”
“Didn’t Ayla have to literally sneak out?”
“I mean, that was different,” Rangavar began, but was starting to look uncertain. “They wouldn’t have a reason to do that here. Those others tried to stop her because she was next in the bloodline to lead, or whatever. Those Iylarians needed her.”
Zag crossed his arms. “Huh, I wonder if there’s anyone in her family ‘bloodline’ here that they might want to keep around for the same reason?”
Now Rangavar was starting to look mad. He threw up his paws. “It’s not the same situation! She was born for that role. I don’t know anything about these people!”
“You want to find out all about them the hard way?” Zag retorted. Maybe it seemed like a bit of a stretch, but Zag didn’t think he was all too bad at understanding politics. And if these dragons thought that they’d stumbled onto something—or in this case, someone—important, he could very well imagine them not wanting to let it go. “If your family history was important to the other dragons, I don’t see why they wouldn’t care about it here.”
“Because I’m not one of them,” Rangavar growled softly, but sounded increasingly unsure. Zag could tell he was finally starting to get through Rangavar’s head.
“It would be much harder to escape this place, where we still have a lot of work to do to get our ship off the ground, and where we have nowhere else to shelter if anything else goes wrong,” Zag pointed out. “Is it a risk you want to take?” It was certainly a risk Zag didn’t want to take.
With a deep sigh, Rangavar sat down on the edge of the bed. He was staring at the wall across from them, but his thoughts seemed miles away. Zag was content to sit in silence, but he suddenly didn’t have anything to distract him from the discomfort of his pants button digging into the underside of his flab. He slipped a thumb into his waistband and pulled at it uncomfortably. Maybe the pants would stretch.
“We’ll do it your way,” Rangavar finally said. He nodded slowly, as if still confirming it with himself. “We’ll be out of here in a few days anyway, so it’s better not to make things more complicated.”
It was a weird way of saying ‘you were right and I was wrong,’ but Zag could sense that was what Rangavar was really feeling, which was satisfying in its own way.
“Oh shut up. I’m not saying I believe you—it still seems like a bit of a stretch. Just that… it’ll be easier, your way.”
Zag lowered his head to hide the tiny smirk on his muzzle.
“Why do you need a fake name then?” Rangavar asked suddenly.
Zag flattened his ears. “Well…”
Rangavar’s eyes narrowed. “What, you didn’t want to feel left out?”
“N-no!” Zag stammered. He could feel his cheeks turn a shade darker anyway. “I thought if I only made up one for you, you’d think I was messing with you and blow it.” Since Darkal telepathy could hear lies, Rangavar would hear he was telling the truth.
Rangavar opened his mouth to reply, but paused, and eventually snorted through his nose with amusement. “Honestly, you’re probably right.”
They sat in silence another moment. As weird as it seemed, it was probably a good thing that Rangavar hadn’t been conscious when they’d been found, or he’d have blown it from the start.
Zag felt lucky enough to have put the pieces together himself, although one of the first dragons he’d met was Rift, who had a… startling, resemblance to the passed-out Darkal. It hadn’t taken long for Zag to notice the trend among the other inhabitants, although only today had Garren proved him right.
He leaned back with a small, satisfied smile.
His expression changed a moment later when as he shifted a bit, both dragons heard a ripping sound from the back of his pants. They suddenly didn’t feel so tight. “Oh come on.”
“I told you there’d be other stuff that actually fits,” said Rangavar in amusement as he watched Zag storm back into the shower room with a frustrated growl.
Oh no, is that.... is that....???
PLOT?
Despite being long-established, I've never really explored this part of Rangavar's story in actual writing, so this was an interesting exercise.
<<< PREV | FIRST | NEXT >>>
Under Ice
Chapter 3
“Okay, spill it. What do you know that I don’t?”
Zag’s ears flattened beneath Rangavar’s glare.
“You’ve been acting weird ever since we got here. And why the fake names?” Rangavar threw up his paws. “And why is mine so awful, by the way?”
“I thought I did a pretty good job,” Zag protested. “Or like, an okay-job, at least.”
“Right, you gave me the world’s okayest-name,” Rangavar rolled his eyes, “…but, why?”
“You can always just, change it if you want. You can tell everyone I don’t actually know you that well, and say I got your name wrong. And pick a new one yourself,” said Zag helpfully.
“I meant more like, why should we hide information?”
Zag fidgeted uncomfortably from where he was sitting on the bed. He was watching Rangavar pace back and forth in frustration, the light of the single torch in their room flashing across his dark gray scales. He kept pausing to turn back to where Zag was sitting. “Why the secrecy?”
“Have… have you noticed how all of these dragons look?” said Zag carefully.
“What, that they’re… large?” Rangavar shook his head. “So?” If anything, the layers of blubber were probably protecting everyone from the cold. Even this far from the surface weather, the air coming down here from the vents was chilly. The dragons here had to adapt.
“I meant their other traits.” Zag stopped fidgeting and sat up a bit straighter for a moment. His belly still looked a bit bloated from his binge yesterday, and it bulged off his front more prominently when he shifted forward, covering part of his lap. Well, a good portion of his lap. “They’re clearly all from the same region. And… well, the dark gray scales. And dark gray wings.” Zag blushed. Rangavar could tell he was feeling more and more awkward as he tried to explain. “And their wings are darker than their scales, which is a really specific trait.”
Rangavar stared blankly. “So?”
Zag stared back. “So…” He gestured helplessly for a second. “What if they’re Iylarian?”
Rangavar frowned. “Like Ayla?” When they’d first met, she’d explained to him that she came from Iylara. She’d left because the people were plagued with corruption, or something. She’d never mentioned a large community may have split off and traveled somewhere else.
Zag watched him for a reaction. “Say that again, but slowly.”
He scowled. “So they might be related to Ayla’s people,” he acknowledged. “That would be a weird coincidence, but I don’t see your point.”
Zag started getting annoyed. “And who’s Ayla related to?”
It took Rangavar a moment. He said slowly, “You mean me.” He and Ayla hadn’t met until well into adulthood. He’d only heard second-hand stories of where she was from, and hardly thought of it as his own history.
Although he finally understood what Zag was getting at, quite a few things didn’t make sense. “Even if you’re right about any of that—” he still wasn’t sure that he was, although he made a convincing argument, “— and I am, somehow, distantly related to these people… So what?” And Zag was still refusing to answer the question that’d been plaguing him from the start: “Why do our identities have to be a secret?”
They were interrupted by the sound of someone coming from down the hall.
“Vaugh dammit,” Rangavar muttered under his breath. He jabbed a black claw at the other dragon. “We’re continuing this conversation later.”
Zag only nodded. It was another minute before the dragon made it down the curving hallway towards their room. It turned out being Rift again; since they’d only met the one time, briefly, Rangavar hadn’t learned to recognize his aura yet. When he appeared in the doorway, he leaned on one side with his arms crossed. “I hope everything here is to your liking?”
Rangavar could tell he was just being polite. “Yeah. Thanks.” Now that Zag mentioned it, he also noticed that Rift’s scale pattern did look pretty similar to his own. Rangavar was so used to standing out in a crowd that the idea of finding anywhere he wouldn’t, was actually a bit weird. It certainly wouldn’t have been on his mind if Zag hadn’t pointed it out. Between him and Rift, the most noticeable differences were that Rangavar’s horns were black from becoming a Darkal, and he also had a rather large scar on his right cheek that he didn’t like to think about. Their other traits… well, Zag had a point.
“It is my understanding that the two of you intend to leave later.” Rift continued hovering in the doorway as he spoke. From his expression, he looked like he was studying them. Still curious, but still wary. “Before you go, Garren wants to talk to you. He wants you to meet him for lunch; you two must be hungry by now.”
The two Darkals resisted sharing a brief glance. Word hadn’t gotten out that they’d gone wandering for a ‘snack’ the night before. Rangavar could tell that Zag was actually still feeling a little bloated, but the chubbier dragon nodded determinedly. “Alright, great.” It wasn’t really unusual for him not to turn down food.
“Then follow me.”
The three of them set off down the hallway.
~
They eventually arrived at the same round room as before, although only Garren was there now. There were already several plates set out on the stone table waiting for them, with what Zag realized was more fruit from the garden. He didn’t really think they were that bad, no matter what Rangavar said.
Rift left after a nod at Garren.
The thick, stocky dragon beckoned them over. “Sit. Have a meal with me before you go. I’d also like to hear a bit about what’s been going on in the other worlds.” He grinned a bit. He was already sitting at the table, a full plate before him. “It’s been a very, very long time since we’ve heard any news.”
Zag still felt full from the calorie-dense snack he’d had the night before, but he wouldn’t turn down a free meal. It would have been rude anyway, right? Surely, he could fit just a bit more, so as not to offend their host. Yeah.
He sat down in front of a plate, where there was more unrecognizable vegetation from the garden. He wasn’t really sure he could call it anything other than vegetation. Did the plant life on this world have an equivalent difference between fruits and vegetables? Was this something else entirely?
He glanced over at Rangavar, who ended up sitting across from him. Although his face was neutral, Zag could tell he was feeling less than enthusiastic.
“As I mentioned, we’ve never actually had company before,” Garren chuckled, starting on his own meal. Zag took that as his cue to eat, copying the way that Garren was tackling each food. His teeth easily sliced through the soft surface of the first thing he tried. He wasn’t really sure what he’d been expecting, but after the first bite, he realized it tasted… actually pretty good. The inside was soft and sugary sweet, like a fruit after all.
He glanced across the table to see Rangavar picking at his own. Zag sensed he wasn’t very impressed.
“It’s true we’re technically stranded here. We gave up on the idea of getting off this world long ago. It’s incredible that you two have shown up out of nowhere.” Garren was already finishing up the first piece of the food on his plate, although there was plenty more. No wonder everyone here was a bit on the ‘large’ side, with an appetite that could handle all that! Zag was still full from having that amount just the night before. He didn’t know how he was going to eat all of this, too.
Not into the food very much himself, Rangavar picked up the slack of answering Garren’s questions, most of which were pretty general. Although, it was quickly evident that the people had been here so long, even the simplest of questions were requiring lengthy explanations to satisfy Garren’s curiosity, so there weren’t any lulls in the conversation. And with Rangavar doing most of the work, it gave Zag more time to eat.
He tried to work through the food slowly, but it was actually tasty enough that he was eating it at a pretty regular speed. Not exactly wolfing it down, but before he knew it, he’d already finished his own plate. Even Garren had fallen behind, since he’d been distracted by talking.
Finally, the other dragon looked over at him. “Oh! Would you like some more?”
“I’m a little full,” Zag started to say, but Garren was already beckoning towards someone waiting in the hallway. Zag had been so focused on eating that he’d barely noticed anyone else nearby, although now someone stepped forward to refill his plate.
“I forgot that by now it’s probably been more than an entire day since you last ate,” Garren apologized. Oh, if only he knew. Zag could only nod and pick up the next juicy fruit-thing. He supposed it would be rude to not eat it, right? He couldn’t just stop, after Garren had gone through the trouble of giving him extra.
He carefully pushed more of it into his mouth as the other two resumed their conversation, feeling his packed gut swelling under the pressure. He discreetly rubbed his belly under the table a bit, trying to relieve some of the pressure by kneading the doughy flab. He only had to make a little more room, and then he’d be done. His belly gurgled a bit in protest, but fortunately, Garren didn’t seem to hear.
“We originally came from an island called Iylara,” Garren was saying as he and Rangavar talked. Zag felt a tiny spark of satisfaction that he’d been right. “When the population left, most wanted to settle down on another world, but the rest of us wanted to settle down elsewhere.” Garren gave a wry smile. “I have to admit, this isn’t exactly what we had in mind. We didn’t have enough fuel to keep going, or to get back, so we’ve been here ever since.”
Rangavar was nodding along carefully. He’d managed to pick halfway through his own food without making any faces, but Zag got the impression that it was taking a great deal of self-control. “Grow up,” he thought at him.
Now, Rangavar was also suppressing a scowl.
“How long have you all been here?” Zag butted in, deciding it was time for him to add to the conversation. It was at least a chance to take his nose out of his food for a second. As it was, he still had some left on the plate to get through, and he needed a breather.
“Well, we set out right after everyone left the island.” Garren shrugged. “This wasn’t our long-term plan, but we’ve made this place our home. Everyone is happy and healthy here.”
Yes, ‘healthy’ was one way to put it, Zag supposed. They were certainly immune to starvation. “And now you have no interest in leaving?” Rangavar wasn’t the only one bitter about all of their wasted time and effort, not to mention their current predicament.
Garren half-shrugged, for the first time looking a bit uncertain. “Just because these weren’t our plans, doesn’t mean this isn’t our home,” he said vaguely.
It didn’t really answer, but Zag let it go. He and Rangavar had been through enough trouble that there was no point in devoting extra time to convincing them they ought to leave. To what end? The sheer size of the community was larger than they could have taken back with them anyway.
Across the table, Rangavar thought at him, “Was that supposed to be a pun?”
Zag scowled and thought back, “Now who’s in whose head?”
Rangavar suppressed a smirk as Garren gave Zag a confused glance. “What’s wrong?”
Oops. He’d forgotten to hide his facial expression. Zag just slowly shook his head and replied out loud, “Just thinking. Sorry.”
“I’m sorry you came all the way out here for us,” said Garren. Perhaps he was more perceptive than either of the Darkals were giving him credit for. “Just to find us actually living here.”
“It doesn’t matter now,” Rangavar picked the conversation back up, having finally finished eating during the lapse. Or, at least finished pushing it around his plate.
Zag took the opportunity to try hurrying up his own meal, eager to be done. He could feel his belly strain uncomfortably with each bite as he crammed the strange fruits into his mouth. He felt like a savage as juice dribbled down his snout, but was trying to finish while Garren wasn’t looking. The last thing he needed was for the friendly leader to call for more. He could barely fit another bite.
Almost… done… When the plate was finally cleared, Zag let out a satisfied sigh. He hoped he looked more relaxed than he felt, with his stomach uncomfortably taut. Although it was true he at least felt ready to slip into a food coma.
“Oh, excellent. I’m glad you enjoyed our food so much.” Garren didn’t seem surprised that Zag had finished it all, as if it were a normal portion size, or something. Zag disagreed, his distended stomach complaining uncomfortably.
“We appreciate the hospitality,” said Rangavar.
“After all you went through, it was no trouble.” Garren pushed himself to his feet, Rangavar quickly following his lead. Zag found himself having a bit more trouble, his movements slow and bloated, his gut so swollen it actually brushed the edge of the table a bit.
“If you’re ready to go, we can provide you some warm clothes that would protect you better on the surface,” Garren offered as they made their way from the room. “Although I have to warn you, the weather is still terrible up there.”
Rangavar’s ears flattened. “How long does bad weather usually last on this world?” He was trying to sound casual, but even the non-telepath in the room wasn’t fooled.
Garren gave him a sympathetic glance. “This time of year, maybe only a few days.”
“‘Only’ a few?” Now Rangavar sounded annoyed. Zag sensed he might also be feeling… anxious? Zag frowned. Or is that me? That’s probably me.
The broader, slightly taller dragon gestured down the hall. “If you’d like to stay longer, you’re perfectly welcome. I’d personally recommend it. You can stay until the weather lets up.”
Rangavar sighed. Zag personally wouldn’t mind going back to their room to lie down, anyway. Probably slip into that food coma he was fighting and sleep off his binge.
Of course, Rangavar could sense his mood. Zag felt him stifle a sigh. “You’re sure it’s alright if we stay until the storm passes?”
“I don’t see why not.” The larger dragon suddenly gave him a friendly clap on the shoulder. “I’ll walk with you two. We’ll get you some better accommodations, and maybe a small tour of the place to pass the time. I’m sure you’re curious.”
“Oh good,” Rangavar thought towards Zag as they headed back to the large central cavern. “I’d love to spend my time staring at rocks instead of getting out of here.”
“We should just be grateful,” Zag thought back. “They’re doing us a huge favor.” He had to admit, though, the situation was less than ideal.
“That’s an understatement,” Rangavar thought.
Zag scowled.
“How do you like it?”
“We already agreed not to go into each other’s minds! Let’s leave it at that!”
While they weren’t being watched by Garren, Rangavar glanced at Zag and smirked.
~
Their new living quarters were deeper into the cavern than Zag had even realized it went. This room was basically carved out of a relatively square mound of rock, but it was plenty big enough for just the two dragons. And this one had a door and window.
Rangavar paused to glare at the fact that there was only one large bed again, but Zag didn’t waste any time flopping down on it and groaning. He clutched at his swollen belly, rubbing it gently with his paws. “Why did I do that.”
Rangavar raised a brow. “Why did you ask for seconds?”
“I didn’t ask! He just had them brought to me! I couldn’t just say no!”
The corner of Rangavar’s mouth quirked up. “You’re awfully defensive about that.”
“Shut up,” Zag groaned again, rolling over a bit to bury his face in the blankets. Shifting made his stomach sag against the mattress, and also made him more aware of how full and heavy he felt. He gently pushed his fingers into the blubber, trying to knead some of the pressure away. He felt slightly better as his paws squished into the layers of adipose.
Rangavar sighed and came over to sit on the bed next to him. “I can’t believe we’re stuck here for a few more days.”
“At least a few more days,” Zag helpfully reminded him. It only made Rangavar scowl, though. “It won’t be so bad,” he tried to reassure him instead. “This gives us the chance to rest and recover from all the time on the ship it took to get here. Not to mention the, well… all the stuff that happened after landing.”
“I feel like we’ve done plenty of resting.” Rangavar sighed, finally flopping back onto the bed at Zag’s side. Zag turned to look at him slightly, although he didn’t stop rubbing his scaly tum. He was pretty sure the kneading was finally starting to help.
Rangavar was staring up at the ceiling, and Zag rolled over to stare up at it with him. He was ready for that food coma now, but the thoughts churning through his head were keeping him awake. He and Rangavar had the same unspoken worry.
When were they getting out of here?
~
Relatively average-sized clothes fit easily over Rangavar’s body. Zag wasn’t as lucky. At least the people here were varied enough in size that he had plenty of options.
Rangavar quickly finished pulling on his own warm clothes, provided to them as Garren had promised. Neither of them were intending to go up to the surface right now, obviously, but Zag had to admit it was a relief to finally get the chilly air down here directly off his scales. Where the two Darkals were from, clothing could be optional; in a place like this, it was pure necessity.
Zag wrinkled his snout unhappily at the tight pants that refused to move up farther than his thighs.
“You’ll find something.” Rangavar crossed his arms in amusement as he watched. There was a shower room at the back of their temporary living arrangement with a large mirror they were currently using. Well, that Zag was currently using. “That really big guy who helped us find food was wearing clothes that fit, so you definitely have plenty of sizes to choose from.”
“I’m also a bit full from lunch,” Zag huffed, refusing to believe the sight of the pale gray dragon in the mirror. That flushed, straining dragon looked quite a bit rounder than the dragon he remembered seeing in the mirrors back home. The ship hadn’t had any mirrors that showed more than his face and shoulders, so he hadn’t seen anything else in a while.
Now, standing in front of a full-sized mirror, Zag wasn’t happy about the way that his bloated belly sagged off his frame. He’d always had a bit of a paunch, but his thick, jiggling thighs and flabby upper torso were definitely softer than he remembered. He sighed. The extra weight couldn’t be entirely explained away by bloating from his hearty lunch. “Vaugh dammit.”
“They left a whole pile of clothes for us to try on. Just choose something else.”
“That’s not the point, Rangavar,” he growled, staring at his reflection. Darkals used so much of their energy for things like magic that they weren’t even supposed to be able to gain weight. Every roll and curve was a direct result of Zag’s choices. He’d tried dieting before, but he always ended up binging when he started to feel bad about it. Which led to him feeling worse. Which then led to more binging.
“Hey, I’ll grab you something to try on, okay?” Rangavar could obviously pick up on his mood. He was trying to be helpful. “I’ll be back in a sec.”
When Rangavar disappeared back into their room, Zag self-consciously hefted his belly in his paws, feeling the weight of it. It was heavier than he expected. Beneath the cream-colored scales, the collection of adipose squished in his arms. How had he managed to let this happen in only a few months? He ended up squeezing the soft flab, looking at how deeply his fingers indented the soft surface. There was nothing solid beneath it. Pure pudge.
Rangavar returned with some other clothes, handing Zag what looked like a cozy sweatshirt. “You’ll find something.”
Zag wasn’t convinced, but he took it anyway. “Thanks.” He was at least grateful for the encouragement. Although Rangavar didn’t seem to notice, whenever Zag was feeling down, he became… nicer. More sympathetic towards him, maybe. Zag would never dare point it out, or that would end real fast. He was well aware Rangavar wasn’t his biggest fan.
He shook out the sweatshirt and started to pull it over his head, careful not to catch his horns. It would be ironic to finally find something that fit, and then accidentally destroy it. He was surprised when he finally felt the hem reach the bottom of his gut. It was true that his belly was pressing firmly against the front, giving it a noticeable bulge, but none of the other shirts had come close so far.
Zag turned slightly in the mirror, inspecting it.
“It looks fine.”
“You’re only saying that to make me hurry up.”
In the mirror, Zag saw Rangavar scowl. The much pudgier dragon reached for a new pair of pants, hoping his streak of luck would continue. The warm, thick fabric of his next try slid up more easily than the previous pair. He could still see Rangavar watching in amusement behind him as he began to haul them over his ass. “Do you have to stare at me?”
Rangavar looked away. “Sorry. I’ll be out here if you need me.”
Zag hoped he wouldn’t need him. He didn’t want to try on any more pants. He hauled on his current pair, determined to get them up to his waist at least.
They were clinging pretty tightly around his thighs. He inched them up over his smooth scales until they were eventually halted by the budge of his belly, but that was pretty much what he was expecting. After a bit of straining, grunting, and sucking in, he was finally able to get the button closed. When he let out his breath in relief, his middle pressed more tightly against the shirt fabric, but the outfit wasn’t half bad. It would at least work until he could try on more clothes later. He was too sick of trying them on for now.
“See?” said Rangavar when he emerged. “Knew you’d find something.”
“Later, I’m going to try and find something more comfortable,” Zag huffed as he hopped on the bed. When he did so, his gut pressed harder into his pants, and the sweatshirt rode up a bit. Vaugh dammit.
Rangavar raised a brow. “You could just try and find something more comfortable now.”
Zag shook his head. “I need a break.”
“Are you actually just hoping things will fit better after you digest all of that dense, heavy food?” Across the room, Rangavar was still adjusting his own warmer clothes slightly, which consisted of what looked like a pretty regular jacket and pants. Zag had no idea what any of this stuff was made of, and couldn’t imagine the material without going over to touch it. He assumed all the clothes were made out of something from the underground garden. At least they were warm.
“Zag?”
Zag snapped out of his thoughts to realize Rangavar was still talking. “Yeah? Sorry.”
The other dragon looked annoyed. “I said, we also need to finish the conversation we started this morning.” Zag stared blankly at him for a moment until he elaborated, “Why are we being so secretive?”
“Oh.” Zag had been struggling to think of ways to explain. He wasn’t sure he’d succeeded. “These dragons came here like, a bajillion years ago, or whatever,” he started. “Garren confirmed that himself. They lived on the island.”
“So?” Rangavar crossed his arms. “Hey, I know you’re a huge history nerd and stuff, but honestly Ayla would be way more excited to talk about this stuff than I am. I barely know anything about them, and certainly not anything useful.”
Zag quickly shook his head. “That’s not my point.” It was true that he loved history, but ancient Iylarian politics weren’t really his thing. What he did know was a thing or two about the members he’d met of Rangavar’s family. “Two of your siblings grew up with the other Iylarians, right? And when they tried to leave, the other Iylarians did everything in their power to stop them, right?”
“I guess.” Rangavar still had a blank look on his face, not following.
Zag spread his paws. “These people and those people split off from each other when you and your siblings were still very young. Even though you weren’t there when they split,” Zag interrupted when Rangavar opened his mouth, “they still knew about you then. They knew your name. So, if any of these dragons are even older than you are, they’ll remember you.”
Rangavar seemed to ponder that for a moment. “I mean, I guess. Although that’d be really fuckin’ old.”
“Garren talked about it as if he was there,” Zag shrugged. He wasn’t sure how old Garren seemed, but not every Faerian dragon aged the same way. Especially the ones that won the genetic lottery and were able to live indefinitely. “He’d know exactly who you are.” Zag self-consciously tried pulling down on the hem of his sweatshirt again, but it slid right back up over his tum. “So, if they realized you’re literally Rangavar… what if they tried to… stop… you?”
“From what?” Rangavar scoffed. “You mean leaving? What, like a prisoner? Why would they do that?”
“Didn’t Ayla have to literally sneak out?”
“I mean, that was different,” Rangavar began, but was starting to look uncertain. “They wouldn’t have a reason to do that here. Those others tried to stop her because she was next in the bloodline to lead, or whatever. Those Iylarians needed her.”
Zag crossed his arms. “Huh, I wonder if there’s anyone in her family ‘bloodline’ here that they might want to keep around for the same reason?”
Now Rangavar was starting to look mad. He threw up his paws. “It’s not the same situation! She was born for that role. I don’t know anything about these people!”
“You want to find out all about them the hard way?” Zag retorted. Maybe it seemed like a bit of a stretch, but Zag didn’t think he was all too bad at understanding politics. And if these dragons thought that they’d stumbled onto something—or in this case, someone—important, he could very well imagine them not wanting to let it go. “If your family history was important to the other dragons, I don’t see why they wouldn’t care about it here.”
“Because I’m not one of them,” Rangavar growled softly, but sounded increasingly unsure. Zag could tell he was finally starting to get through Rangavar’s head.
“It would be much harder to escape this place, where we still have a lot of work to do to get our ship off the ground, and where we have nowhere else to shelter if anything else goes wrong,” Zag pointed out. “Is it a risk you want to take?” It was certainly a risk Zag didn’t want to take.
With a deep sigh, Rangavar sat down on the edge of the bed. He was staring at the wall across from them, but his thoughts seemed miles away. Zag was content to sit in silence, but he suddenly didn’t have anything to distract him from the discomfort of his pants button digging into the underside of his flab. He slipped a thumb into his waistband and pulled at it uncomfortably. Maybe the pants would stretch.
“We’ll do it your way,” Rangavar finally said. He nodded slowly, as if still confirming it with himself. “We’ll be out of here in a few days anyway, so it’s better not to make things more complicated.”
It was a weird way of saying ‘you were right and I was wrong,’ but Zag could sense that was what Rangavar was really feeling, which was satisfying in its own way.
“Oh shut up. I’m not saying I believe you—it still seems like a bit of a stretch. Just that… it’ll be easier, your way.”
Zag lowered his head to hide the tiny smirk on his muzzle.
“Why do you need a fake name then?” Rangavar asked suddenly.
Zag flattened his ears. “Well…”
Rangavar’s eyes narrowed. “What, you didn’t want to feel left out?”
“N-no!” Zag stammered. He could feel his cheeks turn a shade darker anyway. “I thought if I only made up one for you, you’d think I was messing with you and blow it.” Since Darkal telepathy could hear lies, Rangavar would hear he was telling the truth.
Rangavar opened his mouth to reply, but paused, and eventually snorted through his nose with amusement. “Honestly, you’re probably right.”
They sat in silence another moment. As weird as it seemed, it was probably a good thing that Rangavar hadn’t been conscious when they’d been found, or he’d have blown it from the start.
Zag felt lucky enough to have put the pieces together himself, although one of the first dragons he’d met was Rift, who had a… startling, resemblance to the passed-out Darkal. It hadn’t taken long for Zag to notice the trend among the other inhabitants, although only today had Garren proved him right.
He leaned back with a small, satisfied smile.
His expression changed a moment later when as he shifted a bit, both dragons heard a ripping sound from the back of his pants. They suddenly didn’t feel so tight. “Oh come on.”
“I told you there’d be other stuff that actually fits,” said Rangavar in amusement as he watched Zag storm back into the shower room with a frustrated growl.
Category Story / Fat Furs
Species Western Dragon
Gender Male
Size 116 x 120px
Listed in Folders
Something is thickening here like a roux. Maybe several somethings!
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