.:Prologue:.
***Smut in italics skip past it if it's not your cup of tea***
“Its quiet.” The shining blue dragon narrowed his eyes, peering around at the empty street. He wasn’t all that big at the moment, he didn’t need to be. He looked up to his master for agreement. Yet she just rolled her eyes.
“Kekei, if there isn’t something suspicious to you, its dead.” He sniffed disdainfully.
“I’m serious! I can’t even hear the human scuffling in the houses.” His master threw a glare.
“You’re talking to a ‘human’, babe.”
“Sorry.” The little creature grumbled. He batted his wings a moment, catching the air beneath them, and took to the small space dividing him and his master’s shoulder.
“You better not leave scratches again, mister. I’ll call you by your full name all week.”
“No…”
“Karekeiezekeilaragon.” Kekei shook himself, scales rattling. He hated his name. There was a lot to a dragon’s name, their individual name-Karekei, but his master had taken to calling him Kekei. The middle, their family, Ezekeil. This, for Kekei, was the worst part. His family was nothing to be proud of. Famous for sipping gold-infused tea and crumpets during a poor mens’ fight. Primped and pampered sort, fleeing at the slightest sign of danger. And, lastly, the power he possessed. Every dragon had powers-from telepathy to invisibility. No w was Kekei’s bragging rights-he could shift shapes. From the height of the Empire State building and the length of ninety buses. It wasn’t as simple as it sounded though. It drained his energy to the point he had to recover for days. Aragon meant shift in Draconic. Which Kekei’s master was oddly fluent in.
“Ugh. I hate it when you do that. I like it just…Kekei. I am Kekei. Kekeiaragon.” His master laughed, rumbling beneath him.
“You hate the formality, I know. Is that why you’re with me usually and not Louis?” The dragon remained silent for a handful of moments.
“Don’t tell him.”
“I won’t.” She used a finger to scratch the softer scales under his jaw. Kekei had a real master and a …favorite master. Louis Tomlinson, of the world-famous One Direction, had him bred. But dragons weren’t so simple. Kekei was legitimately four-hundred twenty-seven years old, or, in simpler terms, a teenage dragon. He’d seen the Civil War as a wyrmling, basically a chick, and loved to tell his master stories of it. Louis, however, didn’t share her interests. He just wanted to be able to boast that he had a dragon. Which he couldn’t even do, or Kekei risked death. The only way Kekei found his second master is when he got lost flying, mad at Louis for a reason he couldn’t even remember, rage fueling him across the ocean and crashing down on a whole new continent. Lost, exhausted, and now lonely with hurt, Kekei curled up in a tree and called out in Draconic all night, until he heard an accented voice. Sure enough, a human spoke Draconic. He was so enthralled, he bounded down the trunk, seeing a tall girl responding in elaborate Draconic, impressive for a human. They befriended one another, and when Louis finally located his pet, the funniest thing happened.
Kekei’s master developed a crush on Louis.
Nothing is better to hold over her head than such. She hates it. She blushes and glares at the floor, grumbling in a volume only Kekei can hear in the shining light of all her Irish glory. He learned quite the vulgar vocabulary from her rants, and Louis thought it hilarious. Kekei was a good friend, he’d never tell Louis even if he begged, but his master didn’t believe him and denied it on any account, even liking the band he was in.
