Tempting the Dragon

Chapter 8

It soon became more than apparent to Alys that no matter how clever she thought she was with her cunning plan on how to deal with the staff, that it would have been better if she had left them to adjust to her leadership instead of turning them against each other. She was barely able to walk out of her bedroom without at least three of the staff falling over each other to either do things for her or to complain about one of their coworkers. Alys bore it with barely restrained impatience, snapping at approximately one servant per hour. Selendrile merely observed the proceedings with a smirk on his face and occasionally a knowing smile as she responded to someone by digging her fingernails into her palm, trying not to use the fist she was making to knock out some teeth.

“Lady Alys?” One of the servants called out to her as she tried to move from the kitchen to the dining hall. Alys recognized the voice easily, as it was quickly becoming one of the most annoying and persistent ones in her life. “I thought you should know that Catherine just spent five minutes sitting on the stairs instead of cleaning.”

This irritated Alys more than usual, probably because she had a soft spot for Catherine, the other girl being the catalyst to Alys ultimately being able to fire Wolsey. “Well,” Alys said a little sharply. “At least she doesn’t disrupt her work every five minutes in order to come snitch to me, Mary. I have to tell you, the more you tittle-tattle to me, the less I see you as a reliable and responsible employee. The only person you’re sabotaging is yourself.”

Then, because Alys liked to consider herself as fair, she went to find Catherine to see if anything was wrong. From what she had observed, Catherine was one of the good ones: a hard worker who was doing so because it was her job and not because she was under evaluation. Alys personally thought that Catherine deserved any five minute breaks the other girl happened to take, but she didn’t want to be one of those people who played favourites unfairly.

“Is something wrong?” Alys asked softly, climbing the back stairway to find Catherine still sitting in the same position Mary reported her in. Catherine raised a finger to her lips and gestured towards the wall with a movement of her head. Alys could hear the muted echo of voices through the wall, and she frowned in concentration, sure that she had just heard her own name mentioned.

“Lady Alys” murmuring she couldn’t understand “keep trying” followed by something that sounded like ‘dead’ or ‘bread’ and finally “Wolsey”

Carefully, Alys lowered herself onto the steps and placed her head against the wall. There was the hushed murmur of voices, but they were moving farther away and she couldn’t hear anything being said. Finally, when there was silence on the other side of the wall, she lifted her head and looked at Catherine. “Were they talking about me?”

“Yes,” Catherine said, getting to her feet and brushing off her apron. She wouldn’t meet Alys’s eyes, keeping her own demurely lowered and hands clasped contritely in front of her.

Alys frowned. “What were they saying?”

“I’m sorry,” Catherine said softly. “I didn’t hear much more than you did. By the time I realized that the voices were saying something against you and started to listen, they were already finalizing the plans. All I know is that Wolsey is arranging for you and his lordship to be usurped and I think they plan to do something to you first.”

Alys felt a shiver of foreboding, but it was more than that – it was also a rush of excitement at the promise of danger. She was addicted to the feeling of power that came from life-threatening peril, and there was something both comforting and exhilarating about the idea of being attacked by something she could fend off. The idea of witches left her feeling helpless, but the promise of someone she could meet head-on made her want to grin in anticipation. “Do you know when, or how?” Alys asked, trying her best to sound concerned. In her mind, she was already sharpening the knife she kept strapped to her side at all times.

“No,” Catherine said contritely, head still bowed and unable to look at Alys.

Warning bells went off in Alys’s head as she noticed the way Catherine was acting. Usually, she had noticed a bluntness in the other girl, a sense of confidence that allowed her to talk to her superiors without mumbling or talking to her feet. So when Catherine started to do just that, Alys knew something was off. “What is it?” Alys asked, grabbing Catherine’s arm sharply. Had Wolsey snuck back into the castle to continue what she had stopped him from doing nights before? If he could organize a party of servants to act out against her and Selendrile, then he could certainly find someone to hide him in one of the many unused rooms. “Did Wolsey hurt you?”

“No!” Catherine responded with surprise. “I just wasn’t paying much attention. I wasn’t working like I was supposed to be.”

Then, to Alys’s surprise, she blushed. Alys’s eyebrows winged up, but before she could ask any enquiring questions, Catherine stammered on.

“I was… I just… I was woolgathering, your ladyship.”

If Alys had been surprised by Catherine’s behavior, it was nothing compared to the shock and concern she felt now. She could sense what was wrong in the pit of her stomach and it concerned her that she hadn’t noticed it before in the slight flush of Catherine’s cheeks, and the small secret smile playing along the other girl’s lips. Alys hadn’t noticed the flower bud tucked into the servant’s hair to make her appearance softer, or the glazed look in her eyes.

Selendrile had been so sure that Alys was the next victim, and Alys had been convinced he was right, but in front of her was evidence that they both had been wrong. The witches weren’t coming after Alys next – they had already picked Catherine as their next target.

“Is he real?” Alys asked, her hand tightening around Catherine’s arm. “Or did he appear to you in a dream?”

Catherine looked startled, like a young fawn approached by a mountain lion. “He’s…” she stuttered. “Does it matter? We’re in love! He treats me like a queen and he said when we’re married that he’ll move me away from this place and set me up in a real house.” Catherine wrenched her arm away, scurrying down the stairs at a rapid speed.

Alys stared after her for a moment, a concerned and pitying look on her face. She wondered if the reason it was so easy for the young women to fall in love with these dream men was because they promised riches and wealth that was beyond anything the girls could ever hope for. Alys herself had dreamed big when she was a young girl, and even in her most extravagant daydreams, she had never even thought she’d fall in love with a dragon: sure, she’d imagined herself swept off her feet by a prince and made into a princess, but she’d given up such foolish ideas far before Selendrile had swept her off a witch’s pyre and into a far different life than what she was used to. If the spell which was casted over these girls targeted those childhood fantasies they had before the realities of their birth set it, then Alys could really see how they were so consumed with need for their dream man.

She could see how they were so taken in by love.

Sighing, Alys watched Catherine stomp out of sight. In that moment, she felt far older than her seventeen years. She turned and continued up the back flight of stairs, emerging in the back servant quarters. She moved quickly through the rooms, not comfortable with the idea of trespassing in the cramped, personal quarters where some of the hired help lived. She finally found the door leading into the hallway of the main house, and after quickly ascending a small flight of stairs, she found herself in familiar territory.

All the while, the thing going through her mind was a question: why Catherine and not her? Alys knew she had been having strange dreams recently, including that one she had of Selendrile declaring his love for her. Could it be merely a coincidence? Was she dreaming these things because the idea of dreaming about love was on her mind?

That had to be it.

Alys ignored her own bedroom, moving rapidly down the hallway until she found the door to Selendrile’s suite. She burst through his door without knocking, knowing that he was hidden in his back room for the day.

“Selendrile!” Alys called out as she rounded his bed and furnishings. She knocked softly on the door to let him know where she was, though she was certain that his senses had picked up on her approach long before she announced herself. She was gratified to hear his tail rap once back to her, letting her know he was listening.

She knew better than to approach him when he was caged and edgy like a captured animal. Especially now, so soon after he had almost eaten her.

“It isn’t me!” she called out to him through the wall. “I’m not the one having dreams of love. It’s one of the maids. She didn’t even try to deny it when I found her daydreaming in the hallway.”

The dragon snorted. Alys wished she could see his face, even in dragon form, so she could tell what he meant. She thought that particular snort sounded like one of derision, but it could just as easily be one encouraging her to finish the story. Just as she was thinking this, the door opened and Selendrile emerged, looking slightly sleepy. His hair was tussled, and he had hiked a sheet around his hips for modesty’s sake – hers, not his own, since he didn’t understand the human preoccupation with covering their nudity.

“We have to do something about it,” Alys continued. “Maybe we should keep her here overnight or something. I doubt the witches would really be able to steal someone right out from under your nose. If they’re smart enough to keep from being stopped after god-knows-how-long, then they’re certainly not going to mess with you. They aren’t stupid, unlike Wolsey, who apparently has come up with a plan to get rid of both of us. They probably realize that you’re clearly a superior –“ Oh God, Alys realized, she was babbling. She couldn’t bring herself to stop, even after he looked sharply at her after she blurted out the thing about Wolsey.

He had never unnerved her with his presence so much before. She had never followed his every movement with her eyes, not in fear but with calculation, wondering what he would do if she grabbed the sheet around his hips and –

“Alys,” Selendrile snapped with impatience, breaking her out of whatever trance she was in. “Wolsey has a plan?”

“I don’t know much about it,” she told him with a sigh, sitting on his bed and not meeting his eyes. “Catherine, the servant I was telling you about, well she overheard someone talking about this plan of Wolsey’s to usurp us, or run us off, or kill us or something. She wasn’t paying much attention because she was too busy daydreaming about some white knight whisking her away. By the time I got there, all I was able to overhear was that I might possibly be the first target.”

Selendrile sighed too, a human habit he had clearly picked up from her, and ran his hand through his long golden hair. “Human superstition says these things come in threes.” He gave her a rueful smile. “With you it’s more like sevens.”

“I do seem to have months of bad luck,” Alys mused. “Followed by uneventful periods that make me think maybe my life is looking up.” Alys rested her elbows on her knees, clasping her hands together under her chin in order to support her head with. “I really was hoping the witches were after me, though. I think I – no, we – could have dealt with it better than Catherine can.”

“You’re right,” Selendrile told her, flopping backwards so that he was lying across his bed. “We have to watch over her the best we can. I doubt we can stop the spell, but maybe we’ll be able to catch the witches in the act. If they actually physically manifest to do the kidnapping and it isn’t just part of the spell for the girls to reach a certain point and then disappear.”

“The eye witness says she saw the witches steal her sister in person.”

Selendrile shrugged one of his shoulders carelessly. “So what? Young girls are fanciful, and the human mind has ways of dealing with grief and things it doesn’t understand. Maybe she didn’t see what she thought she saw.”

“Selendrile,” Alys frowned in concern. “We based the idea that we’re dealing with witches on the fact that Old Widow Andersen saw them when they took her sister. Are you saying we were wrong?”

“I’m saying it’s a possibility. I’m saying that I’m still no closer to figuring out what’s going on than I was a few days ago. And now we also have to deal with Wolsey trying to get revenge on us for dismissing him.”

“We could just kill him,” Alys joked, absently stroking the bone hilt to her dagger so that Selendrile gave her a look she couldn’t fathom, and turned his gaze away from her.

“That would solve a lot of problems,” Selendrile admitted. “Do you want to do it, or shall I?”

“I wasn’t serious,” Alys protested, her head snapping to look at him. She had been avoiding glancing in his direction since they started this conversation, but especially since he flopped to the bed beside her, his golden skin shining in the daylight with an unnatural sparkle. She itched to touch his skin, run her hand along the strong curve of his shoulder or down his back. She didn’t know what was wrong with her.

“You were serious,” he told her, his fingers stroking along the bare skin on the inside of her wrist. “You want to face him with your knife in your hand and hear the last groan of life as you slice him from gut to sternum.”

Alys gasped, pulling her arm away from him in a sharp jerk. “I do not,” she denied loudly, grabbing her wrist where he had been touching her and pressing against the rapid pulse there. She only had to look at the taunting smile on his face to realize that her safest option was to flee. She could feel his gaze following her from the room, mocking her for her fear.

She didn’t see Selendrile again that day. The servants kept her busy with their petty games, and she managed to slip quietly away for a few hours to practice her swordplay. The feel of the hilt in her hand and the power of her mock thrusts left a bad taste in her mouth after his words. She would not kill a man in cold blood, no matter how evil he seemed.

But a little voice in her head pointed out how easy it would be for her. That frightened her more than anything. She wasn’t a blood thirsty killer like Selendrile, even if she had taken her share of lives. She didn’t want to be.

She emerged from the forest without completing all the training exercises she usually went through. She felt disgusted with herself for allowing Selendrile to get to her, but even more disgusted with him for thinking she could just run Wolsey through without another thought. Didn’t he know her at all?

The day was already darkening by the time she arrived to the side entrance of the castle she used so often. She could hear the sounds of dishes clanking from the dining hall, and it surprised her slightly to think that Selendrile had started a meal without her. He never ate, not if he could help it, and they had developed suppers for the sole purpose of allowing a place for the servants to see them interacting together.

Alys paused outside the door to the dining room, both shocked and slightly curious to hear the sound of Selendrile’s voice talking to someone. She pressed her ear against the door, listening in without divulging her presence. The best she could tell was that the other voice was male, and for a moment she worried that Selendrile had invited Wolsey for dinner – literally. Though he had promised her ages ago not to eat humans, Selendrile would probably not hesitate to do so with his former butler. The dragon had been furious to discover that his employee was taking advantage of the women of the household, and Alys knew that Selendrile believed that no death was too painful for a rapist.

Through the door, Alys could hear Selendrile say: “Thank you for responding so quickly to my inquiry. It was recently pointed out to me that my household is supposed to have a military reserve of sorts. You’ve come highly recommended to me. My sources say that you served in the last war and have experience training laymen to be warriors. We have a limited estate here and a modest household. There are no knights or fighters amongst my men, and we find ourselves in a precarious position.”

“What are you offering?” A second man asked.

“A small cottage in town and three meals a day for you and your family for the next year. In return, you’ll train my men during the waiting seasons – this summer, definitely, and perhaps during the winter months. In addition, I’ll pay you five silver per month and a bonus at the end for each man you successfully train.”

Alys was slightly shocked to listen to Selendrile’s business and negotiation skills. Had it been that long ago when he had shown her a handful of coins and allowed her to deal with the cost of things? To him back then, money had no value except for the fact it was shiny, and now he had business acumen that sounded far better than her own good judgment. It was a revelation that made her feel slightly useless. She had always told herself that she might need him for protection – well, maybe not so much anymore – and companionship, but he needed her experience in the real world in order to deal with life as a human.

Apparently he didn’t.

But, Alys realized as she backed away from the door, she didn’t really need him all that much either. It came as a shock to her to realize that the only reason the two of them were still together was because without each other they would be alone. She was so used to Selendrile in her life now, that she didn’t know what she would do without him.

Alys shook off the horror she felt at the idea of leaving him behind and instead focused on the fact he was hiring a skilled warrior as she had suggested. She wondered if he really thought they needed protection or if he was just giving her what she wanted. She knew Selendrile didn’t really have a connection to the land, and just as soon as he found whatever it was he was looking for in the area – the artifact he believed to be hidden within the castle walls – he would leave here as quickly as it took him to change into a dragon and take flight.

The two of them had discussed it time and time again. It was the plan. If he hated this place so much, then why was he investing part of his horde on making sure the people were protected against the danger the two of them invariably drew towards them? Why was he ensuring the safety of the people after the two of them left?

Alys didn’t think Selendrile had much of a moral compass or sense of obligation. He wasn’t someone who could be relied on to do the right, good thing. Selendrile took care of himself, and he took care of her when it was necessary.

Which was why Alys went to bed confused that night, her stomach growling in hunger from the meal she skipped. It wasn’t the same sensation as what she had experienced when her father was ill and there wasn’t enough food to nourish both of them so she had lived in a state of always being hungry, so much so she had stopped noticing it. It was due to Selendrile that she had a warm bed to sleep in, even during the coldest nights, and enough food to feed her entire village.

She fell asleep wondering why she didn’t feel more smug over what he was doing for her. She should feel proud and conceited over the fact he had gotten in a professional warrior due to her suggestions, but instead she felt a sense of dread as though this was just one more step leading to her downfall. She entered a dreamscape not worried about what possible things awaited her. She was convinced that it was now Catherine who was being targeted, and that her own dreams were merely a coincidence.

x.x.x

“Selendrile!” Alys called out as she rounded his bed and furnishings. She knocked softly on the door to let him know where she was, not surprised when he echoed back with a thump of his tail.

“I’m not the one the witches have targeted,” she called through the door, knowing he would be interested in this piece of information.

In response, the door opened and Selendrile emerged, looking slightly sleepy. His hair was tussled, and he had hiked a sheet around his hips for modesty’s sake. Alys’s eyes were drawn to his chest, the skin rich like old gold and as smooth as silk. Her eyes shifted lower, and she watched his hand hike the sheet up as he moved around her. Her hands itched to touch him, perceptively shaking with the need so that she had to make fists, and she wondered what he would do if she grabbed the sheet around his hips and bared his beautiful body to her eyes. More and more often he had been emerging from dragon form with an erection, and she wanted to know what it felt like in her hand.

She wanted to know if it was for her.

And why not? This was a dream, right?

“Alys?” Selendrile asked questioningly as she took a step towards him. Her hand touched his chest as she braced herself against his body, reaching up on tiptoe for a kiss. Alys pressed her mouth against his urgently, her lips soft and pliant at first, her bottom lip caressing his with a subtle movement. He stayed deathly still for a moment, just allowing her to kiss him. Then he placed his hand on her back, stroking between her shoulder blades as he pulled her closer.

Alys gently bit down on his bottom lip, her hand slipping beneath his sheet and skimming over his heating flesh. The back of her knuckles brushes against what she was searching for and he twitched in surprise.

“Alys,” Selendrile repeated in a gasp as he grabbed her hand and lifted it away. He pulled his mouth away from hers and took a step back, his gaze focused on her shoulder. “We’re not going to do this.”

Alys gave him a secretive smile, not putting up with his attempt to control the situation. Without allowing intent to flicker in her eyes, she wrapped her leg behind his knees and pulled his feet out from under him. Selendrile tumbled backwards onto the bed, and he looked up at her with a heated spark in his amethyst eyes – they gleamed with a combination of possession and passion. Alys gasped, pausing for a moment to stare at him lounging across the bed, the sheet barely covering his hips and leaving nothing to the imagination.

He gave her a predatory look, though he was the one who was supposed to be at a disadvantage, and she felt all her control slip away and her pulse thrum in anticipation.

Selendrile stood, completely naked, and grabbed her, pulling her back onto the bed with him so that she landed on his chest. She could feel him beneath her, separated by a layer of clothing. Alys paused for a second, trying to catch her breath, and then she pushed herself up so that she was leaning over him, her knees planted on either side of his thighs.

Selendrile moved to kiss her, but Alys was faster. Her fingers tangled in his long, silky hair as she jerked his head backwards, bowing his body beneath hers. He hissed as she kissed him, using her tongue to make him open his mouth for her.

She was the one in charge.

Alys explored his mouth leisurely, tasting him and feeling his teeth against her tongue. The entire time, she was aware that this wasn’t real and that she could do anything she wanted to, with no consequences. And what she really wanted to do was touch him – explore his body until he gasped her name and begged her for more.

Alys moved her mouth down his jaw, her lips stopping over the pulse in his neck. She gently scraped her teeth over the flesh there, her hand moving down his chest, over his stomach. She tasted him, amazed to find the beat of his heart thrumming against her tongue. Her fingers tightened around his arousal just as he flipped her over and landed on top of her, so that she was no longer dominant.

Selendrile leaned over and kissed the side of her neck, whispering in her ear. “The first time I enter you, it will be in real life where you can feel it properly.”

Alys awoke with a gasp, startled to find herself alone in the room. She could still feel the faint echoes of his skin against her palm, and her hand tingled with the memory of his heat. She bit back a groan of frustration, rolling over and curling into a ball to stop herself from leaving her room in search of him. Her skin was dewy with sweat and she was frustrated beyond belief.

She was also confused. Had that just been a normal dream, or had it been something else?

©17.2008

This fic is a year old. Happy Birthday, Tempting the Dragon! I’m sorry I don’t update you as often as I should.