Opal could not sleep.

And since he and Carnelian had the HeartLink that DragonCallers were able to establish with their dragon familiars...the small dragon could not sleep either.

The boy Sidhe could not forget the look on Onyx's face when he said that he ran away from home to escape being married and got stuck with a BOY instead. He also could not forget a pair of ocean-dark eyes softening as the knight tried to console him. And he especially could not forget...He blushed deeply again.

Don't be too hard on yourself. Carnelian said, as she perched on the edge of his rather large bed and spread her crimson wings slightly.

Opal turned over and drew the covers to his chest, carefully positioning his injured arm so as not to lean on it. He sighed, exasperated. "I just wish they'd chosen somebody else to play it on," he muttered. "What did I ever do to them?"

Hmm. The small dragon disappeared from her perch with a rush of air and reappeared next to her friend's cheek. She nuzzled his neck slightly and released a breath of warm cedar-scented air to soothe him. Well...at least you seem to like your husband-to-be. You didn't exactly get a hairy barbarian for a betrothed.

Despite of himself, Opal laughed, imagining Onyx as a barbarian...then blushed when he realized the idea was almost appealing to him.

Carnelian chortled. See? Now go to sleep. Everything will be fine come morning.

But Opal had one last objection. "I know I like him, Carnelian. The reason I'm losing sleep is because he doesn't like me. And there isn't anything to do about that, is there?"

Hmph, said the dragon. You worry too much. I can take care of it.

"How?"

A tiny chuckling note sounded deep in the ruby creature's throat. You'll see. SLEEP, Opal. Everything will be better after you get a good rest.

~

Everything wasn't.

The rumors spread throughout the Clan Lands like wildfire, about the DragonCaller finally finding his "husband". Luckily, Lord Jade had been able to stop the servants before they talked to the young lord, because most of the gossip would have hurt his tender feelings. Onyx, too, was not immune to it. After breakfast (which Opal did not attend, for reasons Onyx knew perfectly well and was beginning to feel increasingly guilty about), he quietly slipped to the stables to groom his horse Ferra and try to get some peace of mind. He grabbed one of the many brushes hanging on the stable walls, the familiar motions comforting him as they always did. As he groomed, he pondered.

He had no qualms about going on an entirely new quest, to find the missing stone of the sword. Onyx Nanika, sometime mercenary and wandering knight, had became such because he loved adventure. He did not care much about reputation, and preferred to disappear into the shadows. But wandering sucked the energy out of you after a while and he had been disillusioned enough to do a few paltry jobs and just continue on. The important thing was that no one owned him and that was that. He had been completely free.

That is, until a pair of lovely jewel blue eyes caught him unguarded.

He snorted as some servants watched him groom Ferra, marveling (or maybe laughing) at the horse and the owner. Some were whispering, pointing the way gossips will.

"That's the vagabond knight."

"Why would the sword choose him?"

"A joke of the gods..."

"The poor young master..."

He ignored them stoically. He knew what they thought of him and he cared not.

"He doesn't even look as if he could take care of himself, much less our lord heir..."

At that Onyx did bristle. Who the hell did they think he was? He could take care of himself, and Opal, and do more than that. He would protect young Opal with his life if necessary...

He stopped mid-thought.

Where the hell had that thought come from?

~

Opal bent over his bags, quietly packing while Carnelian filled his head with chatter. He found it comforting, and knew that Carnelian, despite her sometimes pointed remarks and sardonic comments, loved him like one of her own nest-brothers and was only trying to soothe him. Despite his father's efforts, Opal knew that the Clan Lands were abuzz with gossip about him and Onyx. He didn't care much, to tell the truth, but some untrue rumors stung.

I should be used to it by now. Opal folded away a few healing herbs inside his small satchels. My whole life has been one great joke to most of the other boys, and not a few of the girls. Why is it bothering me like this?

Carnelian hesitantly perched on his shoulder and craned her slender neck so as to look him in the eye. Because, love, you know that some of the rumors are true.

He dropped his gaze from her rainbow-colored eyes and redoubled his efforts to pack. He said nothing, but his silence confirmed what he could not admit to himself and what Carnelian so bluntly voiced.

~

The consecration ceremony was held the next morning in the Great Hall of the manor, where Opal had been consecrated as a baby. Where the Great Joke of his life had begun.

He stood silently next to Onyx as the other was offered to the Clan as the bearer of the Dragonsword. Lord Jade presented the sword to the old Patriarch (what was worse, reflected Opal briefly... to live forever, or to live old forever?), who grasped it firmly by the ebony hilt in his withered hands and held it out to Onyx.

"Accept, Swordbearer," he chanted, "the pride and honor of the Dragon Clan of Sidhe Trevelyan. Our blessings upon our Swordbearer, and upon his Bride."

At this Opal felt something within him shift, and he knew what it was.

His life.

His world.

All this time he had been steeling himself against the change, but it was only at that moment that he truly realized he would not see home again for a very long time. That he would be alone for a very long time.

Maybe not alone. He risked a glance at Onyx, who was staring at the sword as if he expected it to turn into a serpent and latch onto his arm. The knight's handsome features might as well have been set in stone. To everyone else he appeared stoic and hardened. To Opal he looked terrified.

Opal bit his lip. No, he need harbor no illusions. He was alone.

A small soft trill sounded from the carved wooden perch nearby. Not completely, murmured Carnelian softly in his mind's ear.

And he was comforted, a little.

~

At that moment Onyx could have done with some of that comfort.

He was as skittish as a newly-penned horse. In that blade, in its one empty socket where the third Dragonstone was to rest, he saw the death of his freedom.

The old Sidhe proffered the sword. Onyx clasped numb fingers where the shriveled ones had rested and hoped desperately that nothing would happen, that this would all turn out to be a mistake and he would be allowed to go on his mercenary way, and not be bothered again.

To never again look into the shimmering depths of a pair of pearl-blue eyes...

IDIOT!

The sword seemed to hum in his hands, and the two stones flared to life. The members of the Clan gasped, all doubts put to rest by the purple light of acceptance.

Just what I need, thought Onyx. Worship.

The Patriarch motioned a little impatiently to Opal, and the boy stepped close enough to the knight to touch him. Onyx suddenly stiffened. Was he expected to kiss him? Like a normal bride? In front of everyone?

But it was not Onyx that the young lord reached out for. It was the sword.

Pale slender fingers slid over his own and gripped the hilt tightly, so that they were both holding the Dragonsword. At Opal's touch the breath burned suddenly in Onyx's throat. The boy had such soft hands...and graceful fingers...

Then the old one was chanting again, in Clan language probably since Onyx couldn't understand a word. He risked a glance at his...at his...

Oh, damn me to burn in all five hells...

...at his bride.

What he saw surprised him. Opal's lovely blue eyes were brimming with tears. The boy was staring at the hellish instrument of both their fates, which was now glowing all over with a light more white than purple, illuminating the entire Hall. The tears glowed in Opal's eyes as he whispered just low enough for Onyx to hear: "Forgive me. I beg of you."

Startled, Onyx realized the words were meant for him.

"I should never have trapped you like this," whispered Opal. "I should never have brought you home."

What was he supposed to say? "It's all right" was as bad a lie as he could ever tell. "I forgive you" seemed a little unfair to the boy. He settled for murmuring, "It isn't your fault. Don't hurt yourself so."

Immediately he clamped his mouth shut. He hadn't even meant to say that last...if his tongue was slipping, this boy was really affecting him.

But Opal smiled then, and something melted in Onyx's belly. "Thank you."

The Patriarch's chanting faded, as did the sword-light. The consecration was over.

END CHAPTER 3