About A Dragon. G.A. Aiken
waist. “Stop that!”
Talaith pushed hard against his chest, but his arms wouldn’t budge. Still, she kept trying. And, finally bored with the struggle she assumed, he released her. Since she didn’t expect that, Talaith shoved herself backward and landed hard on the ground.
“Ow!”
He didn’t even apologize as he sat up, staring down at her. Was he angry? She guessed not when he began to speak to his erection.
“I know. I can’t believe she left us like this either. Cruel wench, isn’t she?”
After the long, frightening, horrible day she had, this was not remotely how she expected to end it. And, against her will, she smiled.
“Look. Now she’s laughing at us.”
Desperately fighting a bout of laughter, she ordered, “Stop talking to it.”
He shrugged. “Well, you won’t talk to him…and he’s feeling awfully lonely. And I think you hurt his feelings.” Then he made it bounce twice in agreement.
Talaith covered her face and sighed. What exactly did her mother tell her the seven signs of madness were? Well, a dragon talking to his own shaft had to be one of them.
“Are you going to answer any questions this evening?”
“No.” She wouldn’t even look at him. For her, he’d shifted to human when they’d first arrived and had remained that way ever since. Yet still she wouldn’t look at him. If she didn’t like him human and she didn’t like him dragon, then what exactly did that leave?
“I don’t understand—”
“Please,” she sighed. “I am so tired. Can we not simply go to sleep?”
He gazed at her across the campfire and she did truly appear worn.
“Of course.”
He patted the ground next to him. “Come. You can sleep here.”
“Oh, you must be joking.”
“No. I’m not. I don’t have blankets for you. My body will keep you warm.”
“I just bet it will,” she muttered to herself. She seemed to do that a lot. Talk to herself. He found it…odd. To him she said, “Do I look that stupid to you?”
“You don’t look stupid at all. I don’t waste my time on stupid people.”
“Well, that gives me ease.”
“I’ll make a promise to you. You’ll sleep here and I promise nothing will happen except sleep.”
“And you expect me to believe that?”
Briec, for the first time in a very long time, became a little angry.
Slowly, he pulled himself up and walked across the burning campfire, enjoying the warm flames briefly surrounding his body, until he stood over her. Brown eyes stared up at him, and he no longer saw any fear. Most likely because now she spent most of her time hating him instead.
“Are you questioning the word of a dragon, little human?”
She stood, looking much less fierce in her now filthy nightdress. “No. I’m questioning the word of you. You just happen to be a dragon.”
“My promises are much more reliable than some human might make.”
“You took me from my village—”
“I rescued you.”
“—and now you won’t let me go.”
“I break no laws, m’lady.”
“Dragon laws, which don’t affect me.”
“They affected you as soon as I saved you from those villagers.”
She stared up at him for several more moments then, growling, she turned from him and stepped away. “Thank you, but I’ll be fine on my own.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“It’s my right, or have I lost the ability to make all my own decisions?”
“Fine. Freeze in the night then. I don’t care.”
He turned from her and walked off into the woods, allowing his body to slowly shift back to dragon as he did so. He’d watch her and keep her safe, but he’d do it from a nice, respectable distance.
Briec didn’t understand this woman. Not at all. Even for a human she seemed damn strange. Was it not a mere hour or so ago she’d been laughing and smiling at his jokes? And now she’d returned to treating him like he’d wiped out her whole family.
He stopped in mid-stomp. Wait. Did I? He thought long and hard, then finally shook his head. No. He’d never damaged any villages or towns in Alsandair. So, he realized, he could be quite righteous in his anger and started walking again.
He didn’t have time for damn difficult women. Especially beautiful human ones. Perhaps the queen was right. Perhaps it was time to settle down with a nice dragon female. Pick a mate. Breed some hatchlings, if he absolutely must. He truly thought his older brother and heir to the Gwalchmai fab Gwyar throne would have taken care of the future heir situation for him so he wouldn’t have to worry one way or the other. But choosing a human as his mate, Fearghus resigned himself to a life without offspring. Of course, Fearghus seemed to like so few beings, perhaps that was in everyone’s best interest. Who knew what nightmare his brother would raise?
Briec settled his big body down and watched the woman from the trees, surrounding them both with a strong protection spell. She couldn’t see him. He was too far away for her human eyes. He didn’t know what he expected to see once she believed herself alone. But what he didn’t expect was for her to sit on the ground, her knees pulled up under her chin, her long arms wrapped around her legs. Then she turned her head and rested her cheek against her knees. She made no sound. She didn’t call for help. She didn’t try to leave.
Still, even from this distance, he could see her tears. He closed his eyes and fought his desire to return to her. His desire to shift back to human and to get her to stop crying the only way he knew how. It was a hard fight, but somehow he won.
As he watched her, looking so alone and so despondent, he tried to figure out what this feeling was he suddenly had. Deep in his chest, burrowing its way up his body.
It was something he’d never felt before and hoped to never feel again—the feeling he’d done something wrong. And that somehow he should feel bad for it.
He shook his head. No. He’d done nothing wrong. He was a dragon and this was how things were.
His sweet little human would simply have to learn to live with it.
She knew he watched her. Even from this distance, she could feel his eyes on her. Tears streamed down her face, but she refused to wipe them. To show him any of her feelings. He’d merely think she was sad anyway. That was far from the truth. Leagues away, in fact.
No, sadness wasn’t her problem. Frustration. Pure frustration was her problem. Exactly how many others would take her from where she lived and order her to do their bidding? How many others would use her like she were some barwench awaiting their next ale order?
For sixteen years now, Talaith waited. Waited for the day when the goddess who claimed Talaith as her own would come and tell her exactly what she wanted from her. That’s why she’d lived with that dullard she’d called husband all this time. That’s why she stayed in this land that was not of her people. And why she’d lost her power. Because she had a price to pay.
Yet she never saw this dragon coming. And Talaith would bet all the gold in the universe her goddess never saw him either.
The dragons had their own gods and their gods protected them with a fierceness bordering on rabid. The gods of humans were less protective but