Romance is...

by Cwn Annwn


About a Dragon and a Yak

“So are we dating then?”

Without waiting for an answer, Smolder nodded to herself and went back to hugging her knees, her blue eyes fixed on the lake ahead.  The setting sun had transformed the water into a pool of molten iron, a soothing illusion that fought desperately for survival against the autumnal gale.  It was a conflict attempting to give a voice to that which didn’t want to be heard; Smolder didn’t need an answer, she had never needed answers her entire life, yet here she was—waiting, anxious.  Weak.

“I mean, it’s not like I care about all that stupid warm-blooded stuff—y’know, labels and things.  They’re just dumb words really.” Smolder licked her lips, surprised that the taste was still on them.  “Us dragons, we don’t hide behind all that, we just say—hey! Are you even listening?”

Sitting beside her, Yona had begun to tremble with what Smolder hoped was excitement or pleasure; she was a simple dragon in many respects—things happened to you that were good, and things happened to you that were bad.  The problems arose in knowing exactly what somebeast found good or bad.  Smolder had never really worried about the feelings of others before being enrolled in the School of Friendship, and so even after spending years there she still found herself playing catch-up.

She stared at Yona, refusing to back down now that she had come this far.  It felt like her scales were being pulled one by one from her body, but she beat down the discomfort and tried to meet Yona’s gaze.  It wasn't easy; the yak’s face was mostly hidden beneath a thick tangle of hair, but Smolder was sure she saw the curve of a smile as she inclined her head.

“You kissed Yona,” Yona said, her hoof tracing the memory of Smolder’s sudden lunge.

For a few seconds Smolder was convinced she had unconsciously ignited a spiral of flame inside of her mouth.  She pressed her claws to her cheeks to check, but the scales there were still cold to the touch.

“Yeah I did!”  She wasn’t sure whether she intended the statement to sound like a challenge, but it was certainly better than sounding uncertain.  Feeling uncertain was bad enough.

“Yona was speaking about finishing school next year, about going back to Yakyakistan… Then Smolder kissed Yona.”  Yona pushed the thick braids away from her face. Her eyes were wide and staring, the green of them stained by the sunset into a colour Smolder couldn’t even name.  It was a mystery trying to recall exactly when she had started to feel the same way about Yona as she did about gems and gold, but she knew without question that it had begun with those eyes.

“Uh… Should I do it again?” she asked, when the wonderful, terrible feeling growing inside of her had become too much to bear.

Yona’s smiled widened for a moment.  Then she frowned. “Why?”

Why?”  Smolder almost took a step back.  She had been ready to fight if needed and she had been ready to storm off in a sulk.  She hadn’t been ready to explain herself, and didn't even know if she could. All she knew was that the thought of Yona leaving the following year, of her selfishly going away and diminishing Smolder's life in the process, was a lame one.

Feeling awkward and, even worse, anxious, Smolder retreated to the familiar and shrugged her shoulders.  When that didn’t work she glared at Yona. When that didn’t work she breathed a plume of fire into the air.  Light and shadow danced across the surrounding trees, startling birds and squirrels who quickly voiced their displeasure.  Smolder swore at them.

“I… don’t know.”  She rubbed the spines on her head before turning back to Yona.  Everything had become so vivid and intense: The bitter wind was pouring ice between her scales and the long grass tickled and caressed her feet and legs.  Worse still was the way her heart was thumping against her chest. “Because we dragons take what we want, I guess. Because you’re strong, and that’s cool.  Because you make me laugh. Because I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about feeling like this.”

Yona blinked, her muzzle twisting up to meet her brow.  Then she leaned across and tapped her horns against Smolder’s.  It was only a gentle motion, but it still sent the dragon tumbling backwards.

“No, Yona meant… Yona did not think dragons kissed.”

“W—We don’t!  It’s disgusting!”  Smolder sat up and rubbed her head.  Her blood was boiling at the mistake of revealing so much unnecessarily.  “But there weren’t any big sharp rocks lying around, so what else was I supposed to do?”

“Oh.”  Yona lowered her head, braids and tassels tumbling back over her face.  “So Smolder didn’t want to kiss Yona?”

Of course I did!”  Feeling horror and revulsion at seeing the yak look uncertain, Smolder practically screamed the words.  Not for the first time, she felt relieved that she had waited until their weekly walk into the Whitetail Woods before confessing.  “Ugh, this is what happens when you live around ponies for so long—you end up doing everything like they do.”

Yona raised her head, a hoof holding her braids out of her eyes.  “Yona is confused.”

“You think you’re the only one!?”  Smolder climbed to her feet, her aching legs twitching in protest.  “I like you, Yona.  I… I don’t know what that means and what we should do about it, but I like you and I kissed you.”  She folded her arms. “But it doesn’t matter why does it? We kissed, so now we’re dating, okay?”

"No, not okay."

This time Smolder did take a step back.  "Huh?"

Yona shook her head, the colourful tassels that hung from it fluttering with the motion.  Smolder couldn’t recall exactly why Yona had started to wear them over the past year—something about her having reached a certain age or something—but they suited her, like emeralds studding a particularly valuable crown.  Smolder had always liked green.

Her chest began to feel tight again.

“No?”

“Not yet.”  Yona took a breath and stared at the ground.  Noticing a small rock, she brought a hoof down onto it and pounded it into dust.  Only then did she look up.

“Smolder is competitive… and opinionated. Funny too.”

Despite her nerves, Smolder found herself smirking.  “Guilty as charged.”

“And kind.”

The dragon raised an eyebrow at that.  “Hey now…”

Yona’s cheeks darkened.  “Is Yona doing it wrong? Smolder said nice things about Yona.  Yona now saying things about Smolder that Yona likes.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get that.”  Thin slivers of smoke escaped Smolder's lips as she spoke.  "But don't you go yak-shouting about that kindness thing too much."

Yona laughed, a deep throaty sound that Smolder wanted to snatch and lock away with all of the other things the yak did that made her smile.

"Smolder protests too much.  Yona remembers all times Smolder helped Yona with school work, or ate with Yona, or went on walks and adventures with Yona.  Like today! Smolder kind. Yona will shout, loud."

"The 'loud' was unnecessary."  Smolder tried to roll her eyes, but she felt far too conflicted to pull it off with any degree of sass or indifference.  It pained her to admit it, but the fact that Yona liked something about her that she wasn't even sure she liked herself made her feel…

Good.  The truth was it felt good.

"Now Yona will kiss Smolder too!"

Before Smolder had a chance to process her words, Yona had leapt to her hooves and swept the dragon up in a wing-crushing embrace.  Smolder opened her mouth to protest, but found it suddenly stifled by Yona's enthusiastic kiss. Her brain popped and fizzed, smashing together thoughts of resistance or flight.

And of yielding.

It was the latter that won out; a warmth was creeping from Yona's body, infusing the air around Smolder and then finally the dragon herself.  It was as though she had sunk into the most scolding of lava baths, and Smolder's eyes flickered shut as she began to meet Yona's kiss with her own.

Okay, she thought, maybe it isn't disgusting.

But then it was suddenly over.  Yona pulled her head back as though Smolder had bitten her, and the dragon was left leaning into air.  She stepped back, feeling foolish.

“Hey!  What gives?”

Yona's head was cocked, her muzzle scrunched.  "Yona not like kissing. Yona prefer yak way."

Smolder folded her arms, hoping that the scales on her face weren't really on fire and that her heart wasn't really about to break through her chest.

"You know, I can't decide whether to be offended or not."

Yona grinned.  "Don’t be. Yona likes Smolder.  Yona likes likes Smolder.  But yak way involves wrestling.  Is better."

"Oh of course it is—wait," Smolder shook her head, "did you say wrestling?"

Yona nodded, a hint of arrogance sharpening her features.  It was, Smolder decided, a very cute look.

"But I thought... So yaks wrestle instead of doing all of that mushy stuff? You just decide who you like and go up to them and throw down?"

"Yak demonstrate suitability for relationship and strength of love by hitting each other, yes."  Yona fixed her eyes on Smolder's, the green of them almost luminescent in the dimming light. For a moment the dragon was convinced she saw a flash of challenge in them.  "Shows passion, resilience and vulnerability. Shows commitment and respect. Sometimes, wrestling lasts all week!"

Smolder grinned.  The heat in her face had become almost pleasant now.  "You know, as crazy as that sounds… It sounds cool. In fact, it doesn’t seem too different to what we dragons do.”

Yona nodded, and this time Smolder was certain she saw the challenge.  “Good. Because if Smolder wants to date Yona, Smolder has to wrestle.”

Smolder swallowed, now certain her heart was about to burst from her chest.  Alien feelings were assaulting every part of her body—hope, fear, anticipation.  Her scales itched with desire, with affection. Genuine, unguarded affection.  

And with it came a sudden clarity.

I want this.  I really do.

Smolder inhaled, then matched Yona’s expression.

“So, this wrestling… Can we use rocks?”