Scales and Hooves (BxB) (Unicorn X Dragon)

Ch. 8 Meet the Families/Dinner With Royalty (pt. 2)

Zion sat between an empty seat and his sister Mona. Across from him sat Kate, and beside her sat Sarabi; Lika sat across to her, still as formal as ever and well dressed—well, all the sisters were, in their various shades of blue dresses, but Lika just seemed to stand out from them all, as she always did.

To his left sat Jasmine, Molten's dam, on the other side of the empty seat. He thought it was an odd name, Jasmine, for a leviathan, but Molten had explained that 'dragon-like' names had been growing out of fashion since the 60s. Jasmine looked like an older version of her daughter, except with fair hair, similar to Ember's, lined with several silver locks. Across from her sat Blaze, a black drake with his cobalt underbelly—peeking its way into view because of his open polo shirt collar—and the same dark hair as Molten only tighter cut. From what Molten had told him, Zion had been expecting homophobic comments and an obnoxious attitude to come from him, instead he was quiet, which puzzled Zion, but he thought it best not to question it. Firestrike, who had been one of the first to sit to the long 12 seater table. She sat across from the empty seat, drumming the fingers of her spare hand on the table as she twisted her fork in her spaghetti carbonara, getting harsh looks from her dam every so often.

Zion ran his hand through his frilly neckerchief, which he had run upstairs to get soon after his sisters arrived in their dresses. He looked at Firestrike, wanting an explanation for her tension. She looked toward the door to her right, on the same side as Blaze was to her, the door that led to the hall they had walked from. She then looked back at him, staring him dead in the eye. He heard an audible sigh. Yet her breathing pattern didn't change.

I'm just worried about Molten, she said to him telepathically.

How did you?-- He thought, only to cut himself off, unsure how to finish the question.

Dragons are strong in mind, even after all our evolution. She looked over at Blaze. Even the more dense of us.

Zion stifled a laugh as she turned back to him. Kate gave him a look. He shook his head, shaking off her inquisition. She pushed aside some of her pink highlights and brown hair and sighed quietly.

Zion was about to eat another forkful of pasta when a pair of chuckling voices filled the air, coming from the hallway, into the dining room. He looked up, seeing the older cobalt drake with his hand on Molten's shoulder, both with broad smiles on their faces.

They separated at the end of the long table, the older drake stopping by Molten's dam—Molten pecked her cheek as he passed behind her. Zion tapped his hand on the empty antique style seat beside him. Molten nodded and pulled it out.

Once both males had seated themselves, the older one said: "Who knew the name Molten Flarescales would go down in history a second time, aye, Molten?"

Molten and Firestrike chuckled while Blaze rolled his eyes and scornfully tutted. "I doubt it went down the first time," Molten replied with a humourous tone.

"When did it first go down?" Asked Lika, her straight dark hair waving as she turned her head to Molten, spinning her fork in her midnight blue glove

"It was awhile ago," he said sheepishly.

"Five years isn't that long," said Firestrike, picking Ember up, placing her on her lap. Molten shrugged it off and twirled his fork in his spaghetti. Firestrike looked back at him with a look that said, Really?

"Did you say your surname was Flarescales?" Sarabi asked. Molten nodded at her. She spun the name in her head until an idea hit her. "Any chance you played basketball?" She thought aloud.

"Maybe," he shrugged, finally getting a forkful of food into his mouth.

The room fell silent as Sarabi pondered the information.

"Just tell them, Molten," urged Firestrike. Molten let out a quiet sigh and dropped his fork, about to speak.

"The shot from the halfway line!" Exclaimed Sarabi.

"Shit," mumbled Molten, getting a slap on the wrist from his dam. The rest of the royal family looked to their youngest sister.

She put down her fork. "Flarescales, number 14, Shovania High versus the Trita Titans. The match was over five years ago. It was the final of Wyrmia's Junior Basketball league. Both teams were drawing, so the game went to penalties. Del Bar had 4 out of 5; they had already missed a shot, and Shovania still had one penalty to go. They called number 14 to take the shot. He had to take the shot from the halfway line. He got it perfect." She said, adorning the word perfect with a chef's kiss hand gesture. Molten looked down at his food as the unicorns looked at him.

"People were talking about for weeks, even after school finished two weeks after the match," continued Firestrike. Molten stayed quiet, stirring his spaghetti.

"You never mentioned you played basketball," Zion said, looking at his mate.

Molten shrugged. "There was never really a reason to bring it up, and you didn't get to see the trophies," he said, glaring at Firestrike and wishing he could do the same to his sire.

Zion turned back to Sarabi. "How did you know that about him?"

Mona nodded, agreeing with the question. "Not even I knew that," she said sheepishly.

Sarabi picked up her fork again. "It was a big thing then. No junior had ever scored such a shot."

"That still doesn't answer his question," said Mona.

"You know I like to collect the Guinness World Book Of Records." She answered, getting back into her food.

"Who knew the little sister would know more about Molten than either of the twins," said Kate with a slight shrug as she also got back into her meal.

Molten raised a brow, this time Lika explained. "With one being your mate, and the other having followed your music for years, we just think it odd that never of them knew that."

Still so much we don't know about each other. Molten remarked to himself. He shrugged, "True," though he couldn't remember Zion mentioning he had a twin two days ago when he told him about his sisters. Maybe I've missed something. He concluded, getting into his meal properly.