Chapter 336
The first sliver of dawn had not yet touched the spires of Babel when Bahamut’s eyes snapped open.
There was no groggy transition from sleep to wakefulness, only a sudden, electrifying awareness of the day that lay before her.
A giddy, breathless sound escaped her lips, and she kicked off her silken sheets with an energy that was wholly un-divine.
She hummed a sprightly, nonsensical tune, a bounce in her step as she padded across her room. The day of her date with Draco had finally arrived.
Her morning bath was not the usual languid soak but a swift, refreshing ritual, the scented oils chosen with unusual care.
Drying herself, she dressed in a simple, comfortable day dress and practically floated down the stairs of Stardust garden.
The city of Orario was still mostly asleep, the air cool and carrying the faint, sweet smell of baking bread from the early-rising bakeries.
She made her way to the northeastern main street, where the pre-dawn vendors were setting up their stalls.
"Morning, Lady Bahamut!" called a burly man arranging towers of grain.
"You're up with the sun today!"
"A special day requires a special start, Goran!" she replied, her voice like chiming bells.
Her smile was radiant enough to make the flickering magic lamps seem dim.
The vegetable seller, an elderly woman named Meryl, chuckled as Bahamut selected the plumpest tomatoes and the crispest wheat stalks.
"Someone's in a fine mood. Planning a feast?"
"Something like that," Bahamut said, her cheeks flushing a delicate pink.
The vendors, who had long grown accustomed to the cheerful goddess's morning visits, offered her their best wares and warmest greetings, basking in the reflected glow of her excitement.
Arms laden with fresh produce, eggs, a choice cut of steaks, and sausages she returned to the manor.
The hearth in the kitchen was cold, the rest of the household still deep in slumber.
This was her favorite time….the quiet before the storm of her children’s vibrant personalities filled the halls.
She tied an apron over her dress and began her work, the rhythmic chop of vegetables and the sizzle of meat in a pan composing a morning symphony.
One by one, the aroma of cooking drew the familia members.
First came the night patrol, weary but brightening at the sight of a hot meal.
Then the heavy sleepers, yawning and stretching.
They all noticed it immediately.
Their goddess wasn't just cheerful; she was effervescent.
Her movements were quicker, her humming more melodic, her smiles frequent and secretive.
Michalis with a mischievous grin, nudged Vasileios.
"Our goddess is practically sparkling. Is today the day?"
"It is. So, let her have her fun, and don’t say or do anything weird" Vasileios warned much to Michalis displeasure.
The dining hall was soon filled with laughter and the clatter of cutlery.
But at the far end of the long table, four girls were conspicuously quiet.
Clair, pushed her food around her plate.
Vasiliki, glared into her juice as if it had insulted her.
Alise was uncharacteristically somber, and Kaguya sat with a posture so rigid it looked painful.
Bahamut’s eyes missed nothing.
She glided over to them, her smile softening from giddy excitement to gentle understanding. "The dungeon must be particularly fearsome today to steal the appetites of my warriors," she teased lightly.
Clair’s head shot up.
"It's not that. We're just... not very hungry."
Bahamut reached out, gently tilting the tiger-girl's chin up.
"Oh? Or are a few of my precious children perhaps a little green-eyed that their captain is taking me out tonight?"
The four flinched, their attempts at nonchalance crumbling.
Vasiliki mumbled, "It's not that we aren't happy for you... it's just..."
"It's just that he's yours," Clair finished, her voice small.
"And you're you. How can we possibly... compete?"
Bahamut’s laugh was a warm, comforting sound.
"Silly girls. There is no competition. My heart is not a trophy to be won, and neither is his. It is a garden, and there is room for many flowers."
She leaned in conspiratorially, her voice a playful whisper.
"But if you keep pouting instead of working hard, I might just decide to keep him all to myself for a while longer. He does look so dashing when he’s flustered."
The tease, well-intentioned as it was, only highlighted the core of their frustration.
They knew Bahamut didn't mind sharing; she had always been openly, bafflingly supportive of their affections for the seemingly dense dragon-kin.
But it was the unspoken truth that stung: no matter what, their goddess would always have his firsts.
His first date.
His first kiss.
His first love.
The monumental milestones would bear her name.
The weight of that reality was too heavy for the breakfast table.
Without a word, the four girls shared a look of grim understanding.
They rose in unison, muttering excuses about a morning dive into the Dungeon.
It was better to take their frustrations out on a horde of monsters than to sit and watch their goddess glow with a joy they desperately wanted for themselves.
……………………………………………………………………………………………….
Draco’s day began at noon.
His room, usually a place of simple order, was in a state of unusual disarray.
Half a dozen outfits were discarded on his bed.
He’d been awake most of the night, first securing the perfect location, then making clandestine trips to transport everything he needed.
He had found it by chance the previous evening: a secluded meadow nestled in the rolling hills outside Orario’s walls.
It was a perfect, private clearing with lush, soft grass and a breathtaking, uninterrupted view of the city’s heart, Babel Tower, silhouetted against the sky.
Under a half-moon, it had felt enchanted.
He’d spent hours preparing.
A simple open-sided tent to give them shelter, not confinement.
Magical lanterns that emitted a soft, golden light.
A woven rug, a small folding table, two chairs, and a cooler packed with food and, after significant anxiety and expense, a bottle of fine Soma Familia wine.
He had checked and rechecked everything a dozen times.
Now, dressed in dark trousers and a crisp, white shirt that brought out the dark hue of his scales, he looked the picture of a gentle-man.
Only the slight tremor in his hands as he straightened a lantern for the fifth time betrayed the storm of nerves within.
He had fought monsters that could level city blocks, but the prospect of sustained, romantic conversation with the goddess he adored threatened to paralyze him.
‘What did one even talk about on a date?’
………………………………………………………………………………………………..
The early night air was cool and carried the scent of wildflowers and damp earth.
Bahamut arrived at the edge of the meadow, and her breath caught.
The scene was more beautiful than she had imagined.
The magic lamps cast pools of warm light, illuminating the open tent and the small setup within. Beyond, the lights of Orario began to twinkle like a field of fallen stars, with Babel, majestic needle piercing the violet sky.
And standing in the center of it all, waiting for her, was Draco.
He turned as she approached, and she saw the nervousness in the rigid set of his shoulders, the way his tail gave a single, stiff twitch before he stilled it.
It made her own frantic heartbeat slow to a more manageable rhythm.
He wasn't perfectly calm; he was just as terrified as she was.
"My Lady," he said, his voice deeper than usual.
He bowed slightly, a formality that made her want to giggle and hug him simultaneously.
"Draco," she replied, her own voice softer than she intended.
"This is... incredible. However did you find this place?"
"It found me," he said, then winced internally at the clumsy response.
"I mean, I was scouting around last night and stumbled upon it. I thought... you might like the view."
"I love it."
She meant more than just the view of the city.
He led her to the table, pulling out her chair with a slight scrape against the furry base he’d placed it on.
The silence stretched, comfortable for a moment, then becoming taut.
"The Familia breakfast was lively," she offered, grasping for a topic.
"Was it?" he asked, his mind blanking on any follow-up questions.
"I... slept through it."
Another silence.
The crickets chirped loudly in the void.
"Clair, Vasiliki, Alise, and Kaguya seemed a bit out of sorts," Bahamut said, a playful glint in her eye.
Draco, currently pouring two glasses of wine, nearly fumbled the bottle.
"Oh? Did they... say anything?"
"Not in so many words. But I may have teased them a little."
She accepted the glass, her fingers brushing his.
A jolt, subtle but electric, passed between them.
"I told them if they didn't work harder, I might keep you to myself."
Draco stared at her, his barely held composure finally cracking to reveal pure, unadulterated panic.
"My Lady, I……My….. I would try…."
Bahamut laughed, a genuine, joyful sound that echoed in the meadow.
"Oh, Draco. I know. I was only teasing. Though..."
She took a sip of the wine, her eyes watching him over the rim of the glass.
"The idea is not entirely without its appeal."
The air shifted.
The awkwardness began to melt, burned away by the heat of that simple, flirtatious statement. The conversation found its flow.
They talked of trivial things…..the market prices, a new weapon one Tsubaki was crafting, a funny story about a prank some neighbors kid had pulled.
The words weren't important; it was the ease with which they came, the way his shoulders finally relaxed, the way she leaned forward to hang on his every word.
After they ate the simple meal he had prepared, they left the table and sat on the rug under the open sky, the half-moon their primary light.
The magic lamps flickered around them.
"I was so nervous," Draco admitted, the wine and the darkness giving him courage.
"I have no experience with this."
"Neither do I," Bahamut confessed, tucking her legs beneath her.
"For all my years, this is a first. I was afraid I would be terrible at it."
"You could never be terrible at anything," he said with such sincere conviction that it stole her breath.
She looked at him then….really looked.
At the strong line of his jaw, the way his eyes, usually so fiery, were now soft and earnest.
At the scales that dusted his skin, catching the moonlight like shards of obsidian.
He was her brave, beautiful, honorable child, and in this moment, he was just a man, and she was just a woman.
The space between them diminished without either seeming to move.
The world narrowed to the sound of their breathing, the scent of him….musk, perfume, and night air……and the palpable longing that hung between them.
"Draco," she whispered, her voice a plea and a promise.
He cupped her cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle.
His thumb stroked her skin, and he leaned in slowly, giving her every opportunity to pull away. She met him halfway.
The kiss was not a tentative brush.
It was an explosion of pent-up emotion, intimate and passionate.
It was the answer to a question they had both been too afraid to ask.
Her hands came up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer.
His arm wrapped around her waist, crushing her against his chest as he lowered her gently onto the soft rug.
The kiss deepened, becoming hungry, desperate.
It was a conversation of its own, speaking of reverence, desire, and a love that transcended goddess and follower.
His hand slid from her waist, tracing the curve of her hip, and a low growl rumbled in his chest. Bahamut arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips, lost in the sensation of him, the weight of him, the rightness of it.
It was that sound, that complete and utter surrender, that shattered the haze of his passion.
With a Herculean effort that felt like tearing his own soul in two, Draco wrenched himself away. He pushed back onto his knees, his chest heaving, his breathing ragged.
The scales on his skin were flushed a dark, heated purple.
"My Lady... Bahamut... I..." he panted, unable to look at her, at her kiss-swollen lips and dazed, confused eyes.
"I cannot. I am sorry."
The rejection was a physical coldness.
"Do you... not want me?"
The vulnerability in her voice was a knife in his heart.
"Want you?" He laughed, a raw, broken sound.
"I want nothing more. That is the problem."
He finally met her gaze, his eyes burning with a painful resolve.
"I made a vow to myself. I am not yet of age by any racial standard. I swore I would not... would not know a woman in that way until I was. I want to come to you not as a boy led by impulse, but as a man. This... tonight... is already more than I ever dreamed. To go further would betray that vow, and myself. And you deserve more than a boy who cannot keep his promises."
The confusion on her face melted into a look of tenderness and respect that it made his heart ache.
She sat up, straightening her dress, and reached out to take his clenched hand.
"Look at me, Draco."
He did.
"That is the most honorable thing anyone has ever said to me."
She brought his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles.
"Your vow is not a rejection. It is a gift. It makes tonight... perfect."
They sat there in the quiet meadow, hands clasped, under the watchful eye of the half-moon and the distant tower, the heat of passion banked into the enduring warmth of understanding.
The date had not ended as either had imagined, but it had ended exactly as it should.
A/N: So what do you all think, was the date too mild. Is Draco still waiting till he came of age right?....Feel free to read ahead on pat3on, donate and read 1 extra chapter as a free member.