This was what made our relationship so complicated. Neither would bow to the other, give in. It was what had brought us together in the first place, that inner strength that could never be denied. We were almost too alike, so similar that we clashed every time we met. I hardly held a memory in which we did not argue, did not fight in one way or another. But I would never change that for the world. The fire that raged between us would never be put out, never quelled by the rain that pelted us from the heavens.

My gaze remains lifted even as I cut him off, asking him how he could possibly say such a thing to me. His words stop in his throat, and for a drawn out heartbeat silence lingers between us. But his next words ignite a different fire within me, a rage of dissonance. I am a Queen and I will not be told how to act, how to treat with he who was not even my pack anymore. But those last three syllables, the intensity of that whisper, almost begs me to break my resolve. I don’t. I will not be commanded by another, I will not bend to him as he will not bow to me.

The words that follow cut me to the bone. So it was true, this was my fault. I had done this to him. The notion that I needed him to change into something that fit the mold of a pack wolf, a pack’s warrior, had scared wolf trying to mend himself. He states yet again that he will not beg me to love the version of himself that I have always known. As his words fade and he turns away my eyes finally fall upon him, and a growl accentuates my words. “I have always loved you. For all that you are, and are not,” I say, tones hard and cold, but somehow akin to a whisper.

It is when I tell him that he no longer bears the right to know what I need that his eyes flash back to mine, and our gazes lock. But I do not search his eyes; my own remain hard though they are filled with tears. There was no part of me that thought he would give in easy to my proclamation. As he stepped towards me my ears pulled back, lacing against my skull as my tail lifted dominantly. I would not stand down to him, nor give way to the pressure he put upon me now. We are so close that the tips of our fur might brush against one another if either were to make a movement. The harsh way he speaks my name is like a bite to my flesh, and my lips rise in warning, though no snarl accompanies the action.

Once more he calls me his dragon, and I blink away the tears, hardened fury taking their place. He throws allegations in my face. His words vilify the roots of my character. He accuses me of being fearful, of turning my back on him, that I was giving up when I never had before. And then he dares to claim that he has somehow tainted me, that this affliction he has upon me has somehow changed me. Finally a snarl rips from my lips as I lunge forward, closing the minimal distance between us to thrust my chest against his, forcing him back. If he staggers backwards I will remain where I had made impact, giving me more room than I had had moments before.

“I need not defend myself to you, oathbreaker. I asked the man that I grew up with to stay with me forever, to be my guardian and shield, my shadow and my light. You vowed yourself to me and the next day you abandoned your Queen.” I practically spit the words, but there is still an air of composure to every syllable. “Go then, it is what you do best.” The words sink their claws into my heart and head, and I am destroying myself by telling him to leave. But it has become clear to me that it is the only way. Maybe someday we will be able to forgive one another for every transgression we have made, but today is not that day.