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***

How crushed I am with having you at rest

Heavy upon my life. I love you so

You bind my freedom from its rightful quest.

In mercy lift your drooping wings and go.

– “A Fixed Idea”, Amy Lowell

***

Levitas kept breathing, his sides rising and falling shallowly, his eyes milky and barely open. He didn’t speak anymore, and neither did Rankin, kneeling in the dirt, breeches soaked in his dragon’s blood. After a time, Rankin began shifting from side to side, an impatient fidget that Laurence dared not chastise, lest he disturb the wounded dragon. 

Finally, Rankin rose entirely. He’d spent perhaps half an hour at Levitas’s side. With an almost nervous glance in Laurence’s direction, he said “Get some sleep, Levitas. I have duties to attend to,” and then wiped his dusty face with an arm, smearing his mouth and chin inadvertently with the blood. He wrinkled his nose in disgust, and spat in Laurence’s direction before hurrying off. Laurence couldn’t bring himself to stop him.

Levitas stirred a little, “Gone again?” he rasped.

“Yes,” said Hollin, and caressed his face gently, “There’s to be fighting soon. But I will stay with you regardless.” He flashed a pleading look at Laurence, who nodded. Temeraire could spare him for now. The surgeon had said it wouldn’t be long.

Laurence stood there a while longer, watching the dragon continue to breathe, cursing Rankin his callousness. For surely, with his dragon injured, there was no duty that truly required him. While other dragons might have open positions among their crew, Rankin had long been trained as a courier and a scout, and without a hale dragon, time was too short for him to learn another role. 

He himself couldn’t stay. Even now, Temeraire would be fully harnessed in battle rig, and the wind could change anytime, bringing the invasion with it. And Laurence had better beg Lenton’s pardon, after having dragged Rankin away in such a fashion.

Admiral Lenton was in his office, by all appearances in a foul mood. “I saw Rankin in the headquarters again,” he said, “So I assume Levitas has passed.”

“He breathes still,” Laurence said, grim, “Though I cannot imagine he will survive those wounds,” and Lenton’s scowl grew more severe. 

He sighed and turned away and refilled his snifter of brandy before offering Laurence the same. “Levitas is a brave beast, and though I pity his suffering, I admit it will give me some relief if he can hold on just a while longer. There’s a Winchester hatching unexpectedly at Chatham: any day now by the hardening of the shell. I haven’t found anyone to put to it, yet, and if Levitas dies, I will have little choice but to offer it to Rankin. He’s just made himself a hero, and if not him, the beast might well go unharnessed.”

Laurence went cold, “Surely he cannot be given another dragon when he’s used his last so poorly, and even now, abandoned him to suffer grievous injury alone.”

“I don’t like it either,” Lenton said, “And if there’s any luck, Levitas will hang on past the hatching, or at least for long enough that Rankin can’t reach the egg in time.”

It was a cruel hope for poor Levitas, and Laurence said, “Surely anyone would be better credit to the service than Rankin. I would ask you send Mr. Hollin, if he weren’t waiting with Levitas for the end. I can’t imagine anyone more suited.”

“Your ground-crew master?” Lenton asked, seeming a bit surprised. “I suppose such a step could do no damage to his career. I won’t take away what little comfort Levitas has now, but you might have provided a solution anyways. I’ll speak with the other captains. Surely one of them has a crewman he can recommend. There aren’t many gentlemen among them, but for a courier, we can hardly mind. And we can better spare one of them than an airman, with the French on their way.”

The wind was still in the north, so he set his crew to remove his armor for the night, except for Roland, whom he sent running off to Hollin to see if anything was needed.

Laurence slept with Temeraire that night. But in the morning, Laurence had no more time to think of the Winchester, for the wind had changed, and it was time for battle.

***

It was a celebratory mood back at the covert. Most crews had suffered losses, but the dragons were all faring well. The worst injured was Maximus, whose sides had been badly scored, but he was expected to be back to fighting strength after only a few weeks recovery. As for Messoria, she had been slashed across her chest and flanks, but they had stopped the bleeding quickly, and after two sheep, she had professed herself feeling much better.

Temeraire, whose newfound shattering roar had engendered their unlikely victory, was frankly being cosseted. 

As soon as he landed, the ground crew swarmed to take off his armor. A cow was led into his clearing direct, so he didn’t have to go down to the pens to sup. A small army of crewmen surrounded him, with towels to clean him of grime and gore, and small sharp picks to pry out the odd bit of shrapnel embedded in Temeraire’s scales. It was more than just Temeraire’s crew that joined in. Laurence didn’t think it was the time for chastisement, but he fervently hoped that none of them were neglecting the duties to which they were actually assigned.

A vat of wine appeared, carried between four men and placed for Temeraire’s appreciation. Laurence didn’t know where it had come from. Perhaps some of the crew had clubbed together their own portions for Temeraire, or the quartermaster had been convinced to release a barrel for the hero of the hour. 

Temeraire, while quite tired, stretched with pleasure at having his harness off, and pronounced himself quite ready for the cow and some wine–once he had supervised the cleaning of his scales to his satisfaction.

Then Emily Roland dashed into the clearing. Her face was flushed and she came right up to Laurence and said with great excitement, “It’s Levitas. He says he could have something to eat, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Then you must find Morgan and Dyer. Have them go find him some meat–cut into fist-size pieces. You go for the surgeon. He might have more to say on Levitas’s condition now that a night has passed.”

“Yes sir,” And off she went.

Temeraire had already eaten half his cow, and Granby, looking in good cheer, was helping to tip the rest of the wine into his mouth.

Laurence put his hand on his dragon’s neck. “I must go see to Levitas, my dear.”

And Temeraire turned and said, “Oh, is he still very hurt.”

“I expect so, but he’s asked for something to eat. I’m no surgeon but I expect that’s as good a sign as any.”

“Oh,” said Temeraire, “I suppose I should come too.” But he looked with longing at the rest of his cow.

“No my dear. If you wish, you can come later once you’ve eaten. But I’ll send a runner if there’s any news.”

Levitas did look better. His head was still resting in a weary Hollin’s lap, but his breathing seemed easier, and while the bandages were clearly soaked through, the bleeding looked like it had stopped. The dark blood had formed a browning crust on the ground and the bandages across his belly and flanks, and no longer looked fresh.

The meat arrived before the surgeon, brought by Dyer and Morgan, but Laurence didn’t want to give it to Levitas before a medical opinion could be had. Smelling the bloody flesh, Levitas lifted his head a bare few inches hopefully–but Hollin patted him again and whispered in his ear, and Levitas was persuaded to settle again, in patience. 

Temeraire came soon enough, looking clean and satisfied. The clearing was not meant for a dragon of his size–especially when it already contained an injured dragon, so Temeraire had to coil himself in an awkward semi-circle around where Levitas lay, careful not to disturb him. Laurence felt a swell of affection for his companion, and stroked his neck softly. There was no need for words to pass between them as they both settled down to wait. 

A surgeon stopped by eventually. He looked tired and his clothes were smeared with blood. He had surely been busy patching up the many injured dragons, even if none of them had taken a truly dangerous wound. He didn’t seem irritated to be called back to Levitas again though. He peered in his eyes and listened to his chest, and examined the crusted bandages before motioning Laurence away from the dragon.

They walked out of earshot, stepping over Temeraire’s tail to do so, and the surgeon said frankly, “Occasionally the beasts surprise us. I in no account expected him to live through the night. He may eat if he wishes, but make sure he takes plenty of water. I’d say if he makes it through another day, he likely as not will survive, if infection doesn’t take him.”

But before Laurence could express his relief, the surgeon said, “But it is likely he will never fly well again.”

Apparently they weren’t out of Temeraire’s earshot. He raised his head and looked over in their direction. 

Laurence froze, “What do you mean, sir? His wings to me looked undamaged.”

“His wings, yes, they’re quite whole. But you see his left shoulder? The gash is quite deep. It cuts through some of the muscles necessary for flight. I do not know how he even made it back to the covert, with that bad an injury. When it heals, the muscle might lack the strength to move his wing, and even if it doesn’t, the scar tissue will likely be too stiff for him to have full range of motion.”

It was grim news indeed. For what kind of life could a dragon have if it did not fly. A life confined to the breeding grounds, and denied even that joy natural to any dragon. And surely, if Rankin scorned his companion before, when he was loyal and swift and eager as a courier, now if Levitas was unable to perform his duties, Rankin would cast him aside entirely.

Laurence couldn’t help but imagine Temeraire so injured. If such a fate befell his dragon, perhaps duty would prescribe that he carry on as an aviator, in some much reduced capacity, but a different, perhaps an even higher duty, would require he not abandon his faithful companion. To leave Temeraire to a lonely fate in the breeding grounds, unvisited and unloved, was unthinkable. And most of his fellow captains would not think of it either, he was sure. But he was also sure that such was the fate that awaited Levitas, should he survive.

But there was no point in worrying over the issue now. Levitas would survive or he wouldn’t. He would fly or he wouldn’t.

It was late in the day by then, and Temeraire was hunched awkwardly to fit. He shouldn’t sleep like that. Besides, Temeraire had many crewmembers now, and soon they were bound to follow their charge to the clearing. The bustle would surely disturb Levitas’s rest.

Laurence went over to Temeraire’s head and stroked his soft nose until the dragon opened his eyes. “I wasn’t sleeping,” he said, which seemed untrue, but Laurence declined to press the issue.

“Let’s get you to your clearing my dear,” Laurence said, “Levitas needs his rest, and you need yours, after such a day.”

And reluctantly, Temeraire came to his feet, keeping awkwardly to one side of the clearing, and then took off, a little more ungainly than he normally would be. He must truly have been tired, but he still was very careful as he lifted Laurence in his fist. Easily enough, Laurence got the dragon settled in his clearing, and to sleep. 

***

Every dragon but a few courier weights tasked with scouting were given a week’s liberty to rest after the fighting. Maximus and Messoria would be a while longer in recovering, but they and their crew were in good spirits all the same.  

For the first two days, Temeraire did little more than eat and sleep and eat again. Though he wasn’t injured, he was well-tired from the fight, and his crew drove the animals to his clearing so he had no need to go down to the pens for his dinner.

Laurence slept out with him, reading to him when he woke, and staying by his side for much of the time while he slept, though he did bestir himself on the second night for a drink with the officers. 

When he came back, Temeraire raised his head in greeting, looking more alert. Meanwhile, Roland slunk into the clearing, and then started, very much looking like she’d been caught at something. 

He sighed, but he did rather need to deal with this sooner rather than later. 

“Roland,” he called, “How fares Levitas?”

Relaxing a little, she replied, “He’s eating again. And his wounds are closing a little, though he can’t move much. The surgeon saw him this morning and thinks he will live after all.”

Laurence nodded. It was good news, but it did create its own problems. Already, the runners and a couple of the ground crew had been quietly fetching and carrying for Hollin, or spelling him when he needed sleep or a meal, but such an informal arrangement would not serve when they were back to full duties. 

By involving himself more fully, Laurence was sure that all he would accomplish was getting himself chastised again for officiousness–this time by Lenton. At the same time, to allow this arrangement to carry on under his nose–when his crew too well knew he condoned it–was too much like allowing his subordinates to take the consequences for his own aims, by avoiding ordering them directly.

 “Can you gather the crew? Ground and airmen both. I know some of the officers went into town tonight, but get the ones you can.”

“Yes, sir,” Roland said, and dashed off.

She found most of them, with the help of Morgan and Dyer, whom she’d rounded up first. Hollin turned up as well, looking tired. Laurence felt a pang of guilt for not handling the matter sooner, but after the battle, all of his attention had gone to Temeraire.

“Gentlemen, I know several of you have been assisting Mr. Hollin with Levitas’s care in leisure time. I applaud your initiative, but the arrangement cannot continue.” Laurence paused just long enough to see Hollin go white. “Such a thing is likely to be frowned upon, if not expressly prohibited, should Admiral Lenton hear of it, but I do not see any alternative. I cannot leave a dragon in need when his captain is unwilling to tend him. All the same, Hollin is needed in the ground crew.” Laurence paused again and looked across them all. “I require this of none of you, and ask for volunteers only. I will not count it as a mark against any man who does not put himself forward. Those who do should know that they open themselves up to chastisement from their superiors, though any who face such censure should make it known that they acted solely on my directive. Any who is willing to participate, on top of his normal duties should go to Hollin at his convenience.” Laurence turned to Hollin, “Mr. Hollin, I will trouble you to sort out a rota to take care of Levitas’s needs.”

“Yes sir,” said Hollin, an odd tremble in his voice, that Laurence ignored. 

“Very good,” Laurence said, and dismissed the lot of them. He made sure to exit the clearing swiftly, so he wouldn’t see which ones approached Hollin afterwards. It was best he didn’t exert even unintentional pressure with his presence.

Later, Laurence returned to yet again sleep with Temeraire under the stars, or more accurately, under his sleek black wing. 

“My dear, do you mind awfully, sharing some of your crew with Levitas for the time being?” Laurence asked in a soft voice. For by now he had learned that dragons could be jealous of all their crewmember’s attentions, and not just their captain’s.

“Not if it’s just for a little while,” Temeraire said, and then more generously added, “He is very brave, though he is very small. No one else is caring for him, so we must.” He paused, “This is duty too, isn’t it Laurence? To look after Levitas because his captain won’t?”

“It is, my dear,” and Laurence patted him.

“I just wish we could give Hollin to Levitas,” Temeraire said, and then added a little sadly, “Though he is a very good ground crewman, and he always makes sure the harness is adjusted just right.”

Laurence sighed, “Even if Aerial Command allowed such a change, I do not know that Levitas would accept a substitution. He loves his captain, little as the man deserves such devotion.”

Temeraire snorted in displeasure and said, “Then we should take Levitas as a member of our crew, and we will make sure he’s looked after and Hollin can bathe him and look after his harness and still be a part of my crew. I am sure he doesn’t want to give up being a part of my crew. I am ever so much bigger than Levitas, Laurence.”

Chuckling a little, Laurence said, “Well you’ve surely sewn it all up nicely, though I don’t know that our superiors would see it that way. A dragon as a member of another dragon’s crew might be more forward thinking than the Corps is ready for.”

“I don’t see why not,” Temeraire said, offended. “He is quite small enough to carry on my back, and I think he could fight quite well to repel boarders.”

Laurence smiled at the image, and then sighed, “I’m afraid the Corps won’t trust a dragon to go into battle if he’s not under harness.”

“As if Levitas would ever disobey an order,” Temeraire said, “Sometimes the Corps is very silly, and I think if dragons made the arrangements we would sort things much more nicely.”

“Well, you are a born revolutionary,” Laruence said wryly.

***

It had been a little over three weeks, when Rankin arrived at Levitas’s clearing with the surgeon. Hollin was there wiping down the little dragon’s scales. He still took on much of the dragon’s care, though he had enough help. Despite Laurence’s efforts to learn little of the matter, he knew nearly all of Temeraire’s crew had volunteered to assist. 

Rankin looked at Hollin and frowned, but seemed unwilling to speak against him. Laurence followed them into the clearing. He had been walking back to the headquarters after a patrol flight on Temeraire, when he’d seen the other captain’s trajectory. He wasn’t sure Rankin had been back more than once or twice the whole time Levitas had been convalescing.

The surgeon looked between Hollin and Rankin in confusion. Laurence recognized him. He had several times looked in on Levitas, and clearly had believed Hollin to be his captain, though the man didn’t wear the uniform of the rank.

“Captain!” Levitas chirped, and made to come and greet the man.

“None of your fussing,” Rankin snapped, “Let the surgeon do his work,” and the Winchester drooped again.

“Right,” the man cleared his throat awkwardly and said, “Levitas is it? Could you just stand there at the edge of the clearing, left side facing me.” 

When the dragon complied, he said, “And now lift both wings–high as you can without pain.”

Levitas’s right wing fanned out in a graceful arc, perpendicular to the ground. But his left wing barely rose past his shoulder, and was trembling badly. He was panting heavily and clearly it did pain him.

“Alright you can put them down again,” the surgeon said quickly and Levitas did.

“I’m sure I can lift it much higher if I only had another day or two to rest,” the dragon said anxiously.

Rankin didn’t say anything at all. But he and the surgeon turned back towards the headquarters. Laurence followed behind them, uninvited, and into Lenton’s office after them. The admiral raised an eyebrow at Laurence but didn’t make him leave. That was good enough for now.

“Well, gentlemen?” The admiral asked. 

The surgeon said, “Sir, the wing muscle has been badly damaged, but not completely severed. In another month’s time, he should be well-healed, and might begin on a plan of stretching and exercise that will loosen the scar tissue and strengthen the remaining muscle. He is still a young dragon–only 12 years old. It is entirely possible he will fly again, though his strength and speed might never be what it was.

Lenton nodded, expression unreadable. “Very well, Green. Tell the other surgeons I’ve put you in charge of his treatment plan.”

Rankin cleared his throat.

“Something to add, Captain?” Lenton asked mildly. 

“Sir,” Rankin said, “Surely you can’t mean to leave me leashed to a crippled beast who surely will never again be good for even the lightest courier duty. Send him to the breeding grounds and have done with it. He was tolerably fast in his day, and can breed up more of the courier sort. Surely that is the best use for him now.”

Lenton had remained silent through this shameful speech, but he had grown rather red by the time it was done. “ Captain Rankin. Levitas might be a common sort of dragon, but you are a very uncommon sort of aviator. An aviator who cares so little for his dragon, who would throw him away in such a manner, when there are tens of aviators who will never be put to a beast despite their most fervent wish.”

Rankin had grown red in turn, but Lenton wasn’t done, “England is not so rich in dragons that we can give up even one that can be put to service, even a courier weight. You will see Levitas through his convalescence, and if you cannot do that, tell me–and see if you ever set food near another dragon again.

“Yes, sir,” said Rankin, through his teeth.

“Very good. Dismissed,” And Rankin pushed roughly passed Laurence as he walked out, giving him a disgusted look.

The surgeon looked a little uncertain, but then he seemed to gather his courage and addressed the admiral, “It will be a long recovery.” He licked his lips and continued, “It’s hard on a beast without its captain to help it along.”

“I understand Mr. Green,” said Lenton. “You’re dismissed.” And this time the surgeon really did leave. 

Laurence stayed where he was. 

“Don’t make a habit of this, Laurence,” Lenton said dryly.

“Yes, sir” said Laurence, a bit shamed for the manner in which he has inserted himself.

“All the same,” Lenton said, “I assume you’ll continue your meddling in this manner?” He sounded amused.

“Yes, sir” said Laurence.

“Very good. Carry on.”

When Laurence returned to Temeraire’s clearing, however, the dragon wasn’t there. In Levitas’s clearing, though, he found the bigger dragon curled around the smaller. They were talking quietly together in (to them) hushed voices, but Laurence could still overhear their words.

“It doesn’t matter,” said Levitas, despondent, “My captain doesn’t want me anymore. I should go to the breeding grounds, and then my captain can fly with another dragon as he likes.”

“I know he’s your captain but I'm quite tired of hearing of him,” Temeraire said, “And I don't see what business he has wanting to fly with other dragons. He was given to you. My Laurence would never prefer to fly with another dragon.”

“But you are a heavyweight and have won us the battle against the French. Whereas I am very small and not much good in battle. And I was not fast enough when we were bringing the news, and a French dragon clawed me very badly and my captain too.”

“He did not seem very badly clawed,” Temeraire said. “And you both brought warning which makes you both heroes. I don’t see what cause for complaint he has.”

“All the same,” Levitas said, “captaining a courier as he is, he can never have much hope for advancement.”

“I don’t see how that’s your fault,” said Temeraire. “But anyways, if he won’t fly with you, you shall fly with me and we shall do quite well. It will be much better than the breeding grounds which sound quite unpleasant. I’m sure there is no one to read to you, and certainly there is no scouting or battles, which can be quite exciting.”

But by then the dragons had spotted Laurence and the conversation moved on to which of the books he should read to them that night.

***

At first, Laurence thought nothing of Temeraire’s increasingly frequent visits to the Winchester’s clearing. Temeraire had tolerated the dragon, and even been friendly with him before his injury, but now he seemed to have taken up on Laurence’s own efforts to help the dragon where his captain wouldn’t. 

Laurence had arranged for Levitas to be moved to a more spacious and better kept clearing, stooping to informing Rankin by runner only after the move was complete. After the last meeting with Lenton, Laurence thought it unlikely that Rankin would dare complain. 

These days, when Temeraire’s duties were done–formation practice, or patrol flights–the dragon could more often than not be found at the other dragon’s clearing, often providing unnecessary commentary or advice as the surgeon had Levitas work through his daily exercises to improve the function of his wing. 

After a couple days of this, half-embarrassed by his own dragon’s behavior, Laurence had had a word with the surgeon to see if he should quietly persuade Temeraire to redirect his attention.

The surgeon protested immediately though, “The most important thing now is for Levitas not to lose his spirit. They seem quite friendly with each other, and I imagine Levitas likes the company, though I’ve never seen one of the big dragons be so solicitous with the little ones before.”

Laurence had heard this before. Temeraire indeed was much more gracious with the smaller dragons than either Maximus or Lily. Laurence took this to be an extension of Temeraire’s unusual sensitivity and fine manners. These might be a feature of his breed, or perhaps, a reflection of Laurence’s own sensibilities. Not raised in the Aerial Corps, he considered the big dragons’ tendency to shove aside the smaller to be uncouth and unacceptable, and Temeraire–though he possessed some dragonish sensibilities about the need to assert himself–seemed to reflect some of those values. The born aviators, meanwhile, just shrugged and said that that was how dragons behaved. In many cases, Laurence thought it was a disservice to creatures who indeed could mind their baser instincts should they be taught to do so.

Either way, Temeraire’s visits to the little dragon were allowed to continue. And indeed the Celestial saw rather more of Levitas than his own captain did. Even with Lenton’s most stern reproofs, Laurence didn’t think the man saw his dragon more than one day in two.

But the dragons were having a lot of whispered conversions that they did a better than normal job of keeping out of earshot of the aviators. They might have thought they were being unobtrusive, suddenly halting their whispers and then loudly taking up a different topic when aviators entered the clearing, but they weren’t nearly as circumspect as Temeraire clearly believed. 

All the same, Laurence didn’t pry. The dragons were entitled to their privacy, especially Levitas. Despite his interfering, Laurence wasn’t his captain, and wasn’t owed his confidences. 

***

By all accounts Levitas was healing well. Three months from his injury, he could lift his wing to the top of its arc again, albeit shakily, and the surgeon–with satisfaction–suggested the dragon attempt a short flight.

However, takeoff put more strain on a dragon’s wings and muscles than simply staying in the air. So the surgeon enlisted Temerarie and his crew in their leisure time, to assist with the project. Temeraire was kitted up in harness, as was Levitas. And then a great metal chain was brought up, and tethered to the top of Temeraire’s back, and the center of Levitas’s chest. Once they were in the air, Levitas could put out his wings and soar above them like a great kite, with no danger of falling, and no need to exert himself in take off. 

“Don’t flap your wings,” the surgeon told Levitas sternly, to show his seriousness, “Only glide this time. Once that is easy for you we can proceed with true flight. If you push yourself beyond that, you might set your healing back for many weeks.”

“Oh I will do just as you say,” Levitas said, shaking in his eagerness. 

Temeraire’s ground crew were wrapping the courier dragon’s claws in leather and cloth to ensure he couldn’t gouge Temeraire’s sides if he landed roughly. Only Laurence, Granby, Doctor Green, and a couple of the bellmen were going up with them, to leave space on the back for Levitas, who perched very gently on Temeraire’s withers, and curled up like a barncat on the back of a horse. 

And then Rankin, who, when he bothered to attend Levitas’s work with the surgeons, watched from the sidelines and barely spoke to his dragon, came forward as if he meant to go with them.

As Levitas’s captain, it was surely his right, as little as Laurence relished the company, so he gritted his teeth and prepared himself to offer the bare minimum of courtesy, when Temeraire shot his head around snakelike, and hissed at the aviator, moving with such speed that the other man paled and stumbled back in alarm.

“Temeraire,” Laurence said, appalled. “You mustn’t.” He had a sinking feeling that this reaction was entirely his fault. He had himself been as rude as his upbringing would allow, interfered with Levitas, and solicited his crew to do the same. Temeraire could hardly be blamed if he now considered this behavior to be acceptable.

“I don’t see why he may fly with us. He is not my captain or my crew–”

“He is Levitas’s captain,” Laurence said, shocked.

“No he isn’t,” said Temeraire. 

Though he’d had a shock, color was coming back into Rankins’ face, two red spots of anger in his cheeks. “Control your beast,” Rankin snapped at Laurence, not even deigning to speak to Temeraire, whose nostrils were flaring with outrage. “I’ve tolerated more interference on your part than anyone should allow, but this is beyond the pale, sir.”

And then to Levitas, he said, “Come down from there. I don’t see why you need any of this. If you are to fly, you must take off from the earth like any other dragon. This is nonsense.”

The surgeon drew in breath to object, perhaps, but it was Levitas who spoke next. “No,” he said. And Laurence froze and turned to look at the Winchester. 

“What are you talking about you silly beast,” Rankin said, “I am your captain and you must obey me.”

The little dragon drooped visibly and curled up even further, though it didn’t seem like it should be possible, but he said again, “No. I won’t come down. Because…because you aren’t my captain.”

The dragon had paused but no one said anything. Everyone was looking amongst themselves in confusion, and Levitas continued, “You should go join a big dragon’s crew and then you can be one of their captains one day. But you aren’t my captain anymore.”

Rankin looked even more furious, and for a moment, Laurence thought he was going to do something about it–perhaps try to punch Laurence–but Temeraire’s presence clearly prevailed on him the futility of attempting anything of the sort in the presence of a heavyweight dragon. So eventually he just kicked the sand, swore something under his breath, and stormed off.

Levitas didn’t get his test flight after all. He went near unresponsive after that confrontation, and so Temeraire’s ground crew bustled around, detaching the chain and the harnesses, and eventually Levitas was persuaded to shift down to the earth again, where he lay huddled, Temeraire curled protectively around him, for a long time.

***

That night, when Temeraire finally had returned to his own clearing, leaving Hollin to sit up with Levitas, Temeraire seemed gloomy rather than triumphant at having achieved what was clearly his aim.

“How did you convince him,” Laurence asked, still a little alarmed at the events of the day.

Temeraire shifted uneasily. “Levitas told me that Rankin wished to be a captain of a bigger dragon. So I told him about how you had to give up your ship to fly with me, and that I told you I’d let someone else fly with me if you’d wanted your ship back.”

Temeraire drooped a little, “He didn’t want to do it, but I convinced him it would make his captain happy. And I thought then Levitas wouldn’t be so sad, and he could fly with us. Only now he won’t talk or say anything, and I worry I’ve done the wrong thing afterall.”

Laurence sighed, wishing he’d thought to advise Temeraire against this kind of interference. But it was done now, though instead of joining their crew, surely all Levitas had won was an assignment to the breeding grounds. But Laurence didn’t say that, when Temeraire was already so low. Instead he said, “It is a very great blow, and you must give Levitas time to recover.”

And Temeraire nodded unhappily before lapsing into silence.

***

The expected summons from Lenton came the next morning. Laurence grimly donned a newly pressed neckcloth and went. He couldn’t imagine he was in for anything less than great reproach, if not some sort of official discipline, and he also couldn’t help but think he deserved it.

Rankin was there already when he arrived, and shot him a truly venomous look.

“Leave us,” Lenton said to Rankin, which surprised Laurence. He’d expected chastisement in front of the other captain to be part of his punishment.

Once Rankin left, Lenton looked at Laurence for a while. Then he broke the silence saying, “Rankin is off to Loch Laggan, where he will be trialled as a first lieutenant on the dragons we have training there.”

It didn’t seem like an invitation to speak, so Laurence kept silent.

“Then there’s the question of what is to happen with Levitas,” Lenton said. “If I’d known this was where your interfering would lead, I don’t know if I would have encouraged you more directly, or put a stop to it entirely,” he said dryly. “A dragon rejecting a captain it has previously accepted is almost unheard of. I can’t begin to imagine how your beast convinced him to do it.”

“Sir,” Laurence said, “I must completely accept the fault–”

Lenton cut him off, “I appreciate the attempt to take responsibility, but in this case it is rather counterproductive. And I’ve learned enough of your dragon to know he has many strange notions. Also, I believe you have enough respect for the chain of command that you wouldn’t have encouraged Levitas to such a thing. It is just as well. If you were responsible, I would have to come down on you very harshly for the very interference I previously condoned. Instead, this is a thing that was stirred up and settled among the dragons, so in accordance with Corps customs, I will let it be. Dragons may follow different rules than people.”

Which Laurence didn’t quite agree with, but he let that pass under the circumstances.

Lenton paused, “Though I trust you will be discouraging Temeraire from any similar future acts.” 

“Yes sir,” said Laurence, and then, since he could hardly stay out of the matter now that Temeraire and himself had inserted themselves, “Sir, what is to happen to Levitas?”

Lenton just looked at him for a while, as if he was thinking how to respond to Laurence’s sheer nerve at asking for anything after his role in this mess.

“In any other circumstances, I would send such a dragon to the breeding grounds. If you can’t trust their loyalty to their captain, how can you trust them in battle? But I know Levitas to be the good and loyal sort, that Rankin simply pushed beyond endurance, damn the man. We will see if he will take another captain. You mentioned Mr. Hollin before. We will let him try. I don’t suppose your dragon thought about such things before he convinced Levitas to make such a move.”

A little chagrined, Laurence said, “I believe Temeraire had a notion that Levitas could join his crew.”

Lenton actually laughed–a single great guffaw. “That would be a treat to explain to Parliament. And let us hope for another battle soon to occupy your dragon, lest we have every one of our customs and traditions overturned,” Lenton said. “I suppose you’d better tell Mr. Hollin at once. Since you have felt so free in involving yourself, I won’t shrink from giving you more work. Oversee Mr. Hollin’s attempt, and report back to me on the results. I have perhaps one other candidate who could try, if Hollin is refused, but if he refuses both, he’s for the breeding grounds.” 

And Laurence agreed and hurriedly left the office to do as he’d been bid. 

***

“Me to fly Levitas?” Hollin said, his voice breaking a little with emotion.

“If he’ll take you,” Laurence said warmly, turning away a little so he could better ignore the wateriness of the other man’s eyes.

Hollin sobered and said, “He does miss Rankin, of course. I do not know that he is ready to fly with another, though I know if he won’t take anyone, he will be sent away, which would be a shame.”

“He may never be well enough again for more than domestic mail service,” Laurence warned, though he didn’t expect it to put the other man off, and indeed it didn’t.

Laurence had taken the man aside, back to the headquarters, so they could discuss matters outside of the dragons’ hearing, but now they turned back and made for Levitas’s clearing.

Laurence stood back as Hollin approached, wary when normally he was eager and friendly. The little dragon raised his head at the other man’s approach, from where it had been otherwise listing in the sand, a picture of despondency.

Laurence stayed back to give the pair their privacy, but after a little while, Hollin beckoned Laurence over, joy in his face that he was trying and failing to hide. Levitas sounded less delighted, but he said, “I suppose I shall fly with Hollin, since he says he would very much like to fly with me, and my captain…I mean Rankin will not anymore.”

It was hardly an enthusiastic reception, but Hollin was undeterred, and by the time Laurence departed to report to Lenton that the substitution had been accepted, Levitas had curled around Hollin much the way Temeraire was wont to due while Laurence, shielding him with one wing, while Hollin carefully buffed the dragon’s scarred scales with a soft cloth. So Laurence thought they’d do all right together after all.

***

“Hollin is very nice of course,” Temeraire said, a little dubiously, “But I’m not sure why Levitas would like him as a captain instead of to be a member of my crew.”

“Well,” Laurence said, hiding a laugh, “How would you like it, if instead of having me as a captain, you and I were both a part of Maximus’s crew.”

Temeraire huffed a little in displeasure, “Well that is not at all the same thing. For one, Maximus is only a very little bit bigger than me. And you were already my captain before we joined the Corps.”

But Laurence seemed to carry his point, for only a little while later, Temeraire conceded. “I suppose, even if he is a little dragon, he would have felt very heavy on long patrols.”

And Laurence gave him a pat on the soft velvet of his nose, and then pulled out Euler’s Introductio in analysin infinitorum –reluctantly acquired from town–and began to read to him in his halting, schoolboy Latin.