[b]”I beg your pardon m’lady, but I’d request entry. May we speak?”[/b]

Throughout the entire week, Sparks made little to no progress. She was terrified of going onto her dragon's back, her magic training still came up with nothing, and she even had to sit out on some of the agility training because she refused to receive yet another bruise on her head. But that wasn't the only issue - her attitude to the entire situation hadn't changed in the slightest, and not only was it wearing down on her, it was also wearing down on Felynne. The two argued often. Felynne herself became snappy and violent to her own brothers and sisters, and on the other side of the issue, there were at least two occasions where Sparks and Felynne kept well away from each other, despite the piercing loneliness that their bond gave them (Which worsened their mood tenfold), just to try and stop the onslaught of negative emotion they were feeding each other.

Sparks herself wasn't inclined to eat much, or anything at all. She was sharply ripped from her usual alcohol consumption, which wasn't healthy for any addict. Not only was this causing even further problems but she was usually paler than usual, being sick, shaking like a leaf, sweating...most of her study periods were spent with Sparks vomiting in a bucket, whilst Felynne moved off to the meadow with books to try and read them so at least -she- knew something.

And, of course, her attitude towards Merrick hadn't changed.

"Come in!" she hollered, flopping onto her bed wearily. Felynne was out hunting, any excuse to keep a distance from Sparks. Whilst Felynne's' part of the stables was neat, it's clear Sparks' mood seeped out into her own room - books thrown everywhere, tables and other furniture upturned, pieces of paper and old bread rolls strewn across the floor in a mix between a feeding frenzy and a temper tantrum. Sparks looked a wreck, as per usual. She needed a bath, new clothes, and a good stern talking to. Whilst the idea of a bath could be approached, and the 'talking to' was about to be given to her, her wardrobe is completely empty. She's been wearing the same ripped up outfit for a whole week, making her look even more like a tramp.

Two amber eyes focused on Merrick coldly as he walked in. "What do YOU want?" she snapped.

Merrik struggled not to scoff at the blunt rudeness she still pushed on his presence. "Am I bothering you? If you'd like I can leave. I don't wish to cause you any more discomfort. But if you would have it, I'd like to talk to you." Truth be told, he had been worried sick about her. Obsidian Nova was openly connected with each of the other dragons, and they to their tamers. Through the stress of Sparks' bond with Felynne, Obsidian Nova could feel the pains that seeped through their connection. And through Nova's emotions Merrik could fell the sorrow and the pain and the stress that plagued Sparks, and therefore her dragon. He was not so proud a man that he would deny his sympathy for others. The fact remained that Merrik cared deeply through each of the tamers through their dragons; he felt as if he had known them a fair time longer than what reality would show. Sparks' had struggled throughout the first week and though things looked dim at this time, he would not give up on her. He would not give up for he saw a great strength, hidden beneath deep emotional pains. More than any of the other tamers, he wanted to help her to live up to her potential. Not because he thought she would make a fine soldier, though that was a blessing nonetheless, but because something about her made him feel like she deserved it. 

"Sparks, I have to ask you... What do you want?" A broad question, a strange one even. But all things came down to want and need, and he could not help her to achieve her desires until he knew what they were. He was done playing games with her; the situation between her and her dragon had reached a breaking point and if they continued down this road their bond would surely kill the both of them, be it by sorrow or pain.

Whilst Merrick was over with playing games, Sparks seemed to still have a bit of her usual, irritating self despite a week's worth of wear and tear on her personality. She pushed herself up a little, a coy grin playing on her lips, but a very bitter one. She glances around the wrecked room approvingly, and chose her answer; "What I want, is a drink." Sparks sat up, groaning just a little. "And some old clothes. These ones are ripped to hell. Oh, and a bucket, so I don't have to stagger past my freaking dragon each time I want to be sick."

Referring to Felynne as "her freaking dragon" is only a confirmation of how bad things have gotten, like a wound left to fester. The real question was - is their bond too infected to be saved? Sparks pulled her blanket over her shoulders, still shivering from wracking withdrawal pains. She took a deep, shuddering breath and, realizing that's probably not the answer Merrick wanted, decided to repeat what she said all those days ago, in the spar:

"I want to go home, Merrick. I'm a drunkard, and a tramp, and a beggar living on an eternal alcohol debt to fuel my own bar brawling income, which barely gets me a square meal each day. Despite what you want to think, I have no grasp on magic, I am not able to fly on my own dragon after a week, I -clearly- haven't 'bonded' with that sap at all, and I'm not worth anything. Shouldn't you be finding heroes to ride dragons into the sunset with? Why pick me, of all people? I'm expendable. Nobody should care about me this much, either, which is why I asked you what the hell you were doing here."

Sparks hunched over and into herself, keeping her face on Merrick. Her usual glare of hostility softened into a look of pure bewilderment, as if she didn't expect that sort of thing to slip out of her mouth. But clearly, she blamed Merrick for it, because she scowled at him and shifted her weight uneasily. "Besides," she muttered angrily, "Felynne shouldn't be stuck with a wreck like me."

The all to common furrow of Merrik's brow deepened as Sparks' spit her words at him in her usual way. He thought he was right when he assumed she would simple leave him with a snide remark and the threat of a swift kick to the groin. She seemed so lost, as if she had fallen to a dark place and could never truly be retrieved. But Merrik Tetra was not one to give up so easily. His caring personality and personal feelings for Sparks' and Felynne refused to let her break his effort. He was about to turn around and leave when he noticed a look on her face, a look of debate, and then she spoke. With each word she spoke he felt a sadness growing inside him again. 

"It is strange, that you would title yourself as such. For I do not see a drunkard before me; I see a woman who's body trembles in proof of her defeat of her addiction. I do not see a tramp; I see a proud woman that none could step on. I do not see a woman living in debt; I see a Dragon Tamer. I see a woman with a sacred bond to a creature of legends, I see a woman who, despite many hardships and burdens that have befallen you in the last week, still stands before me. Still trying, still fighting. You say you have no grasp on magic, but I say you simply have not found a hold sturdy enough for a mind who's grip is as strong as yours. You say you cannot fly and take that as some kind of an offence but what you don't know is that it took my ancestor, Merrikhai Tetra, nearly 5 months to find his place on Cosmaur Sarpe's back. He went on to become the greatest legend in the history of the Order." He sat down slowly on the bed next to her, his eyes staring intently into hers.

"You say you have not bonded, and yet you are fully aware of Felynne. You have a connection with her that leads you to believe that she can do better. If you did not care, you would not take it to mind that she deserves better. Despite what you think, Felynne chose you and she knows everything about you. A dragon only chooses on person in the entire world to dwell with them in their soul. And Felynne chose you, and her decision was a good one for I did indeed go out seeking heroes. And before me, I see a hero. I see a powerful woman with all the makings of greatness. But those makings are shrouded in a pain that cannot allow your maximum potential to flourish. And whether or not you wish to believe my words, I will say them yet. You, are not expendable. You are not worthless, you are not weak, you are not a burden on your dragon. You are filled with potential that all but you can see. You have determination and strength to be envied by most. Felynne isn't stuck with you, she would do anything in her power to keep you near her. She would die for you, because she has seen into your soul and what she saw pleased her. So do not say that she deserves better, for it is an insult to her judge of character." Standing he walked to the other end of the room, leaning on the rail before turning to face her.

"So what the hell am I doing her? I'm here to tell you that I won't be giving up on you for it would be a great loss to this army and it would pain me personally to see a woman with such potential slip away into the gutter. I'm here I'm here to bring out a hero, one that sits before me in hiding. One worth more than all the gold and ale and want in the world. You are a dragon tamer. You are a legend now."

Sparks shifted restlessly under her blankets, watching Merrick like a hawk, listening to every single word he said. Her untrustworthy gaze turned rather quickly into one of disbelief, and she made sure to shuffle a little away from Merrick when he went to sit down next to her. She didn't show much of a reaction until Merrick said, with all the sincerity he could muster, that she wasn't expendable; at that point, her eyes widened in shock and she sat there, numb and speechless. She didn't move at all, even when Merrick got up and moved to the railing.

Whilst she didn't really get around to the 'speaking' part, she gave it a very good try to figure out some sort of snide remark to make it seem like this little chat did nothing to change her, but her face was an open book. Merrick would be able to clearly see that she hasn't had someone say something like that to her in decades, at the very least. Then her eyes narrowed and she looked away, muttering "Thanks." scathingly.

"Feels strange, having someone to care for you, doesn't it?" purred Felynne, drawing up to her fullest height to peer over at Sparks from her own stall. When she returned from hunting is indeterminable, but it's assured that she heard the whole thing. "Going to break down and cry a little?" she added slyly, a big grin on her lips, revealing the rows of ivory fangs.

Sparks picked up a ruined book from near-by, and hurled it at Felynne angrily. Of course, a book can't do anything against a dragon - Felynne caught it in her jaws and, with a jet of flames so hot they were white, reduced the valuable knowledge into ash in milliseconds. 

"And I suppose you think all of that is true too?" snarled Sparks, rising up to her own height instead of sitting there on the bed, hunched up. 

Felynne rolled her eyes. "Of course it's true, you idiot." she snapped, albeit not in frustration. "Despite what you want to think about it. You've done nothing but try to rip yourself to shreds ever since we arrived, and it's taking a lot out of me to stitch you back together again. Besides - and I'm sure you'll agree - Lord Merrick has a point."

"That...that you still think that I'm the only person in the entire world to bond with?" stammered Sparks uncertainly.

"No, that you're insulting my judge of character." replied Felynne, cocking her head to the side, smirking.

At that, Sparks stood up angrily, crossing the room in moments. She shoved up-turned furniture out of the way, slid books across the floor with her feet, rolled a bottle of nearly non-alcoholic wine that she smuggled from the feast across to Merrick's feet unintentionally, and stood face to face with Felynne, looking as if she'd kill the dragon.

But that doesn't happen - she just pressed her forehead against Felynne's, and shut her eyes. Almost instantly, that dark cloud of torment that hung over Sparks dissipated, and there was a distinct outburst of emotion from the two of them - something they didn't get the chance to do when they first bonded, as Sparks finally opened herself up to her dragon. Neither of them broke down crying, or laughed, they just stood there, Sparks with her fists clenched and Felynne glancing down at the top of a mass of dreadlocks pressed against her nose.

"Right," stated Sparks, her voice cracking with emotion - as soon as it did she glanced over at Merrick and blushed furiously, pointing at him threateningly. "Tell. No-one." she snarled. "I don't want them to think I'm soft." she added, after a moment's hesitation. Felynne watched with amusement as Sparks paced around her wrecked room for a few minutes, fixing her hair, trying to do anything to not look at Merrick. Then she span around again.

"First thing's first - You do NOT cut an addict off their addiction like that." she snapped. "I. Have been through. Hell. Just to try and fight this off. Didn't you know that you were supposed to wean someone off of their drink instead of stopping it altogether? You probably noticed that I've been trying to get those wine bottles all damn week, and even then it's only grape juice. I NEED a drink. Even if you kept brandy in your bedroom, I don't care, because if I get the shakes and the hallucinations on the back of Felynne, we're BOTH going to end up in trouble. Especially if she's in the air. I bet she can't do a dive maneuver yet, can she?"

Felynne looked at Sparks seriously for a moment, and Sparks slumped her shoulders, feeling Felynne's disapproval weighing on her back. "But don't-....Don't give it to me unless I need it, it's just....if I end up getting really bad. Only in case of emergencies." she mumbled regretfully. But at least she caught up with her own anger as she remembered what else she asked for. "And another thing! If you've got any old clothes, I'll take them. If you don't want me thinking I'm a tramp, you'd give me something else to wear - I've been wearing this ripped shirt over my boobs for a week and I'm constantly worried it's going to fall off."

"Don't forget the bucket," urged Felynne, finding the whole situation hilarious as she stifled a laugh. "AND THE BUCKET!" exploded Sparks, throwing her arms into the air, then hoisting the aforementioned shirt back up a little. "Who in their right mind wouldn't give an alcoholic a bucket?! Besides, you can carry things in it too! It's useful!"

With her little rant over, she looked over at Merrick expectantly. "Well?" she asked. "Bucket, clothes, booze. Simple enough, right?" From behind Sparks, Felynne glanced over at Merrick with a big grin on her face. She's still trying to keep in a laugh, but there's a grateful look in her eyes. Thank you, she mouthed silently to Merrick.

Merrik smiled as Sparks' true nature returned as she gruffly began barking out rules to him. "You have my word. Our private workings are of no concern to the others. Though I doubt anyone could ever mistake you for being soft" He furrowed his brow at the memory of the many times she had nearly damaged his manhood. No, she would never be a soft woman, she was a warrior inside and out. He listened to her continue on to lecture him on removing all her alcohol. For this he had no regrets; a woman with such will as hers needed drastic measures to make progress. He had no doubt that a seasoned alcoholic such as Sparks' could find the means to make even an ounce of liquor remain in her system for much too long. No, he had carried no intentions of letter her consume so much as a drop until he saw a definite change in her mindset. It wasn't her drinking that was the problem, he himself enjoyed the escape of a heavy drunk; the problem was her need for it and the reasons behind it. She did not simply enjoy drinking, she needed to do it. And until this moment, he knew that any brew offered to her would be used as an escape from facing her real inner struggles. 

"I will not apologize for what I did. I know full well what it takes to wean an addict, but you are no weak minded, pathetic addict. No, you contorted your use to draw yourself into a well fortified fortress of seclusion within your mind. You needed to be ripped out of that fortress and held captive in the dungeons of sobriety until I could get through to you. You're too sly to be subjected to usual methods." He leaned down and slid his hand into his boot, retrieving a thing flask of pure, 60-year-old brandy. Laughing about her remarks about the usefulness of a bucket he straightened up.

"Here." He said tossing her the thing silver container."You'll get exactly 6 ounces a day, and no more. Make it work, and don't tell me you need more because I know better. I'll get you a bucket soon, but first, I want you to come join me at the dinner table. We'll eat and act as if we never had this conversation. Later tonight I want you to come with me to the manor. I'll explain more at dinner. We'll get you fresh clothes from the wardrobes there; you'll have a pick of some well made attire, perfect for training and everyday operations, so look forward to that."

A warmth entered into Merrik's heart. It was not the heat of victory, but the warming presence of comfort and relaxation of a portion of the strains in his mind. He hoped what had happened in this loft today had unlocked the true warrior with the dreadlocked woman that stood before him. "Now come, I have to return to the table to greet the rest of the tamers."

Obsidian Nova felt a rush explanation of the events that had occurred. Merrik had been too consumed by the happenings to regularly inform his dragon, but as he walked past his stall, the great black drake silently joined them, a warm smile, just hardly noticeable, tugged at his scaled lips. An aura of hope and positive aspirations filled the bonded space between him and his tamer.

Sparks reached up and grabbed the flask mid-air. She kind of tuned out for most of the conversation, but hearing scraps about heading up to the manor alone with a rich man kicked in a few little warning bells and she glanced up again, only to have her precious, precious liquid courage stolen from her by Felynne.

At that point, she really did punch her dragon, and damn-near broke her hand on the tough scales. Felynne hid the precious brandy. "You will get it when I know you're ready," she scolded, trying to shout over the incoherent yellings, whines, and curses of Sparks for getting her hope and joy snatched from her again. "Food first!" roared Felynne, loud enough to make Sparks stop complaining, her deadlocks billowing behind her at the force of the yell.

---

Sparks burst out of the stables, her mood visibly lighter and more upbeat than she was for the entire week. More importantly, she looked much less irritated with her dragon, who was prodding her in the back with a talon to get her to move towards the feast table. She took a seat between Tara and Arameus, grabbing the bottle of sweet wine by instinct, not even listening to Merrick. She gulped down a quarter of the bottle while he talked, her expression thoughtful, before putting it down on the table where her glass should be and glancing over at Arameus.

"See this?" she said bluntly, pointing at the wine bottle. "Merrick wants you to think he doesn't want his precious tamers with hangovers for training the next morning, but between you and me, he's a massive lightweight. I should know, we met in a bar." muttered Sparks, grinning mirthfully. "The name's Sparks. I need to get used to meeting you guys since I've been in a sulk all week. What's your name, then?" she asked. Whilst it wasn't exactly very polite, and her tone of voice was rough and hardened by years amongst the scum of society, she did sound generally warm, friendly and inviting.

Felynne glanced over at Sparks, and smiled just a little. Her elation and joy to see that Sparks is finally happier once again could be felt by her siblings, the other dragons, as she tumbled around and played with them, but she did not speak a word of the happenings within her stall.