Chapter Text
The name of the pub was Siren's Call.
Alfred had only visited it for the first time last week, but he found himself compelled to return again and that was humorous when you considered the name of the establishment. It beckoned to him.
As a dragon, it was almost poetic. He, a great beast disturbed from dormancy by the voice of an angel.
Or, rather, the voice and sight and scent and feeling of a lover, albeit one who did not know his name.
Walking once more down the sloping, cobblestone streets of the city, Alfred felt nervousness flutter to life in his chest. When Arthur, his mate, had died, he had said to come find him. And Alfred had done just that, although unknowingly, summoned here by the spell Arthur had cast on him with his last breath...
The thing was, he didn't know what it was he was supposed to do next.
He had found Arthur, the once half-incubus now in the form of an under-twenty something with white, fluffy wings. He wasn't sure what he was but he knew that it was fitting in a strange way. Those wings were identical to the ones of tattoo the man had had on his back, so there was no question that this must have been fate.
Or perhaps divinity just had a funny sense of humor.
Whatever the cause, it mattered not. What did matter was that this was his mate and their bond was still there, albeit faint, and he had to figure out what he was going to do about that. Arthur didn't know who he was, let alone their delicate, but intimate, relationship, but that didn't change the fact that he was a dragon's most prized treasure and the restless urge to have him near, safe and protected, was an unsettled simmering in Alfred's blood.
He had only been able to stay away for a mere seven moons before the urge to see him again had become too much to bear.
Weaving by those passing on the walkway, Alfred navigated the bustling main street, the shops alive with couples this time of night. It was later in the evening than the first time he had come here, so he wasn't surprised to walk in and find the pub alive with music and inebriated patrons.
It took only moments for him to locate the figure of Arthur as the server slipped through the crowd, an empty tray under one arm as he headed for the kitchen. Turning his attention away from his mate for a moment, Alfred saw the pubkeeper grinning at him.
"Couldn't stay away, could yew?" He laughed. "I was actually surprised yew left b'fore the main show last time."
"Main show?" Alfred repeated, approaching. He and the pubkeeper had hit it off fairly well when he had paid for his last meal with a solid gold coin. He wasn't an idiot-- he had known its value. But unfortunately he hadn't had anything less on him at the time.
Still, he was a dragon. It was no matter if his hoard grew smaller as long as he could see Arthur as he pleased. He suspected the pubkeeper had caught onto his slight preoccupation with the winged server.
"Yew don't know?"
Alfred raised a brow at him that quite clearly said that he wasn't here to play games.
The pubkeeper just smiled and pointed a thick finger at Arthur. "He'll get up on the stage in an' hour an' sing. It'll be like nothin' yew've e'er heard before."
For a long moment Alfred stared at him before his eyes glided over to Arthur, the young man taking a table's order. "He... sings?" The gnawing inside of him was intense-- raw and unyielding. This was something new. This was something about his Arthur that he hadn't known. He wondered if the old Arthur could sing. What might an incubus' song sound like?
His throat suddenly felt tight.
"Sure does! Keeps this place in business 'e does. I'd get a seat before they're all gone if I were yew."
Alfred didn't even respond as he gave the room a quick look and found, coincidentally, that the same table from his first visit was vacant. He made short work of claiming it, slipping down into the seat with ease. He shot the stage a calculated look and decided that he had a decent view. He wasn't near the front, no, but there were no other tables that would block his view.
He was satisfied.
It was only a minute or so before Arthur was over to take his order and those beautiful eyes were once more focused on him and only him. "You again?" He said, his sweetly accented voice making the dragon's head feel light.
Alfred spared a glance to the ring on his own left hand, nestled meaningfully onto the finger after the littlest. The emerald in the setting glimmered back at him. He should have known that an imitation couldn't compare. Regardless, it was probably the closest he could have physically gotten...
But the real thing was before him and he indulged in looking deep into those vibrant eyes. "Yes?"
Arthur suddenly seemed to realize that his greeting had been a bit rude and he flustered, "O- oh, ah, well-- sorry. I mean-- Can I take your order?"
Oh gods, how was he not supposed to ravish this sweet, young thing? It was Arthur, but so vulnerable and left bare of all his shields.
He felt a twinge of arousal. What might he taste like?
"Beg pardon?" Arthur balked.
"What?" Alfred said, blinking.
His reincarnated lover's face turned scarlet. "Y- you... you..." He shook his head, a scowl trying to surface on those reddened features, "I'll make this very clear-- we are not that kind of establishment. I am not on the menu." And with that he stormed away, disappearing through some door that only employees were allowed to enter.
It took Alfred a very long moment to process what had just happened.
And when it finally came to him he felt a blush creep across his face.
Arthur had heard one of his thoughts... and somehow he seemed to have mistaken it for Alfred speaking aloud. They still had that mental connection from before, weak but there, embedded neatly alongside his ability to sense all that his mate was feeling.
The dragon couldn't help himself.
Filled with an overwhelming amount of mirth, he laughed.
It just felt so damn good to be near him again.