Fanfiction for The Dragon Isles
Mar. 1st, 2007 10:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maderr(posting now because I know I won't wake up in time tomorrow morning)
Based on The Dragon Isles: The Silver Dragon by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tygati. She wrote about a smexy, snarly black dragon and failed to give him a pretty boy. I solved that little problem for her.
Deyllgo growled low as he walked through the empty streets of the royal city.
He did not want to be here. He wanted to be home. But a certain Difficult Dragon would not budge from the side of his human and so Deyllgo was stuck now too.
For well over eight months, eleven days and twenty hours now.
Flying and swimming held no appeal, and if he did either he might very well come close to giving in to his urge to go home.
What was so interesting about humans anyway? Dumb clothes, dumb rules, stupid violent tendencies whenever they were scared of or didn’t understand something.
He snarled and kicked at a loose bit of stone.
It was entirely unfair that he wasn’t even able to perform his duty most of the time, Lord Aeynanyi ordering him away as often as he could – and shortly thereafter sneaking away with his confounded human.
So what precisely was a stranded, unwanted bodyguard supposed to do with his time?
Crunching some of the nastier humans was, sadly, no longer an option. Though if they dared to harm Lord Aeynanyi…
Deyllgo cut the thought off before it could increase his frustration to the point he really would do something violent.
Perhaps he should go swimming, he could have another tangle with that giant squid…
A ragged scream broke into his thoughts, and the protector in him honed in immediately on the sounds of pain and fear in it. Growling, he swiftly sought out the source of the sound, moving quickly along the street and eventually to the small alleyway where a group of men were hovering over…something quite small…
Deyllgo didn’t care what was going on, just that someone was hurt and the offenders were stupid enough to have all their backs turned.
Barely a heartbeat later they were lucky to be breathing, strewn out haphazardly across the larger street. He hadn’t bothered to pay attention to where he tossed them.
He frowned curiously at the thing huddled on the ground, listening to it sob and whimper. It was…tiny. Not a child…he didn’t think…did grown humans come this small? Deyllgo glared as it only continued to sob, and finally stalked over and knelt. Damn it, he’d somehow wound up helping a human, it could at least acknowledge the fact.
Prodding it gently, still not convinced the tiny thing was human, Deyllgo frowned and prodded more firmly until it finally, slowly, lifted its head.
Deyllgo growled and almost went back to turn the morons in the street into his late night snack. Why would humans do this to each other?
The man’s face was a mess, cuts and tears all across it, as though he’d been hit with something that had an edge. Dirt and grit were smeared all over and in the wounds, as though his face had been shoved into the dirt. The whole mess was worsened by tears.
“I told you,” the man said, voice trembling and thick with pain, sounding as though every breath was an effort. “I do not have the money. He ran off with all of it.” He groaned and laid his head back down, going suddenly still.
A second later Deyllgo realized the human was unconscious.
He frowned. What in the name of the winds was he supposed to do now? He could just leave it? Though part of him had no problem with that, as humans held no interest for him, Deyllgo’s protective instincts could not simply let him walk away from that wretched, abused face and who knew what other wounds. The human was so small, and the others much larger by comparison (though still insignificant next to him) and there had been four of them, so logically the small human was badly injured.
Vowing silently that Lord Aeynanyi would never learn of this, he’d rather eat his own scales first one by one, Deyllgo carefully lifted the small human in his arms, taking yet more care when it whimpered, and went to go find a warm, safe place to put it.
Unfortunately, it didn’t take more than a minute or two for him to realize that he only really knew one place he could take it. All the human buildings were closed up, and he didn’t know which ones would permit him dumping off a stranger and Lord Aeynanyi would Not Be Pleased if he caused a panic by breaking some rule he knew nothing about.
Grateful that everyone in the palace left him well alone, doubly grateful Lord Aeynanyi never had reason to seek him out in his quarters, Deyllgo quickly made his way back to the palace, slipping through the halls soundlessly, reaching the rooms he’d been given with no interference.
Sighing softly in relief, he deposited the small human on the bed and went in search of things to take care of his wounds. This would be a lot easier if he could get Lord Aeynanyi to heal, but one he didn’t want to walk in on that again and two he didn’t feel like sharing he had a human in his room.
In his bed.
Deyllgo growled at the unfairness of it all and stalked back to the bed.
He knowledge of treating such wounds was severely limited. Dragons were healed by the Wind Lord.
Still growling, Deyllgo carefully set to work cleaning away the grit and blood, growling louder as he saw just how bad the wounds were once he stripped away what was left of the human’s clothing.
Bruises and cuts everywhere…but it seemed everything would heal fine on its own. He thought. Who knew with stupid humans? He impatiently tossed the ruined clothes aside, and immediately sent his own right after them. Winds, he hated the stupid clothing!
At least the palace and Lord Aeynanyi were finally resigned to his wearing nothing more than the…pants. Yes, those. He was not going to encumber his movements by wearing all the rest of that stupid stuff.
Tugging the blankets up over the human, Deyllgo set to prowling the room, not certain what to do now. Would it go away in the morning? Would he be stuck with it for a few days? He stalked back to the bed and glared down at the human.
At the moment, it was rather ugly looking. Not that humans ever looked good, but it would probably be a long time before all the cuts and scrapes healed. The hair was also filthy, dirt and grime all but hiding the dark reddish-brown color.
The small human was making a mess of his bed…but Deyllgo had put him there, so he supposed it wasn’t entirely fair to blame the human for the mess.
He remembered the pain-glazed eyes being a light brown color.
It moaned softly, obviously still in pain despite being asleep, and Deyllgo glared. It was warm, wounds tended, what more did it want from him? Maybe it wasn’t warm enough; it was awfully small for a human. Growling low, wishing he’d just stayed in the castle or gone after the squid from the start, Deyllgo stalked to the trunk where extra blankets were kept – something he’d discovered only yesterday, and only because he’d been bored – and pulled out two, then took them over to the bed and clumsily arranged them over the small human.
There. Maybe now it would be quiet.
As if sensing his thoughts, the small human moaned again, shifting on the bed and then giving what sounded almost like a sob.
Snarling, Deyllgo reached out and grasped its shoulder – and froze when the human abruptly went silent. Had he hurt it? No, he’d been careful… Slowly he withdrew his hand, but almost immediately the noise started up again. He put his hand back on its shoulder, and again the small human grew quiet.
Winds blow all humans to the ends of the world.
Deyllgo stood that way for several minutes, withdrawing his hand only when the human seemed to…sink, somehow, into a deeper sleep. When he withdrew his hand, it stayed quiet.
Satisfied the problem was resolved, Deyllgo abruptly realized he was tired. The last time he’d slept had been…before the slight upheaval he’d caused at that banquet thing. Dealing with the small human had not helped anything.
He could just go sleep somewhere as a dragon…but even if this was a human island, and a human castle, this was his room and he wasn’t going to leave it.
Even if there was a human in his bed who shouldn’t be there but was anyway.
Clenching and unclenching his claw-tipped hands in frustration, Deyllgo finally snarled and crawled into the empty half of the bed. It was his, he was going to sleep in it, and if the human didn’t like it then Deyllgo would be more than happy to go put him back in the alleyway. So there.
Growling low, muttering soft curses against all humans, Dey burrowed into the bed, ignoring the way his dark hair fell all around him, and promptly went to sleep.
*~*~*~*
Cion murmured softly, resenting wholly that he was starting to wake up. It was warm and soft, and he could smell the sea on a faint breeze. A dream, of course, but so very nice. Couldn’t he enjoy it a bit more?
Apparently not, he thought bitterly, as every ache and pain in his body began to make itself known, rendering going back to sleep impossible. Groaning in agony, he slowly forced his eyes open.
To find himself staring at bed drapes that were far too fine for him to be anywhere near. They were a deep sea green, with the faintest shimmer, pinned to the bedposts with gold silk cords. The bed itself was just as impressive, rich dark wood carved all over with oceanic images. He dared a look at the rest of the room, just as finely appointed and…
Cion felt his cheeks burn and hastily looked away from the image on the far side of the room. A tall, broad-shouldered man with long, long hair and…at a glance, rather a fine physique, as he wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing.
He didn’t look up as he heard the naked man approach.
“Are you feeling better, human? Are you able to return to wherever it is you belong?”
Cion’s bitter reply that he belonged nowhere was forestalled by the ‘human’ part of the first question. Puzzled, he looked up – and up – and realized with a shock that in his one hasty glance he’d missed several vital details.
One oddly pointed, webbed ear was visible where the waist-length hair had been shoved behind it. Strange, dark eyes that almost looked as though they were true black. The hair was the same, a rich blue-black far finer than any Cion had seen before.
Dizzily he noted the other telling signs. Long, black claws on fingers too long to be human…and the scales. If nothing else gave it away, the glistening black scales did. Like oil on water, holding a fine iridescent shine, swirling and spiking in a pattern that reminded him of waves crashing upon the rocks.
“Is something wrong, human?”
The icy voice made Cion realize he was staring, and he felt his face heat with mortification. “Y-you’re a dragon.”
“Yes,” the dragon replied. “Are you healed?”
Cion blinked at him. “Um…I guess? Did you rescue me?”
“You were making a lot of noise,” the dragon said with careful patience, his expression stony, face lined with frustration. “I did not know where to put you. Are you able to leave now that you are awake?”
Ouch. Even his rescuer wanted to be rid of him as soon as possible. Not that Cion had any reason to feel hurt, but that was never how it went in the stories…
Of course, he couldn’t remember ever reading a story involving a poor apprentice mapmaker whose lover wound up being a thug who ran off with money that wasn’t his and left the poor apprentice mapmaker to lose his job, lose what little coin he had, get beat up in alleyways and rescued by a dragon who looked as if he’d preferred he hadn’t played rescuer.
Never let it be said he couldn’t take a hint.
“Of course,” he said, forcing a smile. “I’m fine. Sorry to be such a bother.” He slowly pushed back the blankets – then turned red and hauled the blankets back up. “I, uh, don’t suppose you have my clothes?”
The dragon blinked at him. “They were ruined.”
“I can’t leave without my clothes.”
Muttering something that sounded like ‘stupid humans’ the dragon wandered off, vanishing into another room for several minutes, reappearing just when Cion thought he’d gone away entirely. Piles of clothes were bundled in his arms, and he dropped the entire pile on the bed. “Are these correct?” the dragon demanded, looking affronted and thoroughly offended.
Under ordinary circumstances, Cion might have laughed. The miffed expression was almost cute, especially on such an intimidating figure. He ducked his head to look at the clothing.
Silk. Satin. Superfine. The dragon had just dumped a small fortune’s worth of fabric on his lap as though they were offensive scraps. Cion hesitantly reached out to touch. His own clothes would not cover the cost of a single shining button on the jacket spread across his lap. “Umm…are you certain I cannot just have my clothes back?”
The dragon heaved a long, grievous sigh. “They were ruined. Covered with blood. I threw them out. Why would you want them back? Aren’t these good enough?” He glared.
Swallowing, Cion gave a nod and fumbled through the costly pile for something simple, finally tugging on a loose pair of pants and an overlarge shirt. Perhaps if he had time he could do something to adjust them…
If he was still alive.
Feeling sick and dizzy, Cion forced himself to stand and dress, fighting embarrassment as the dragon merely stood there and watched him. At last dressed, wishing badly that he could crawl back into that wicked-soft bed, he turned to the dragon and bowed. Bad idea. Fighting the dizziness that washed over him, Cion rose and kept his eyes politely directed at the floor. “Thank you, Master Dragon, for rescuing me. I am sorry to have caused you so much trouble. I bid you good day and good fortune in all things.”
When he felt reasonably confident he wouldn’t fall flat on his face, Cion slowly turned and began to walk towards the door. His ankle protested that – loudly – but there was nothing for it. He wouldn’t stay where he wasn’t wanted.
A hand wrapped firmly around his upper arm and forced him to a halt. “You are not better.”
“I will be fine,” Cion answered, frowning up – and up – at the dragon. This had to be one of the ones staying in the palace. Which meant he was in the palace. Fighting panic, feeling thoroughly overwhelmed and lost and tired and confused and so very sick of it all, Cion strove to sound more confident than he felt. Than he ever felt.
The dragon growled – growled! How utterly fascinating, Cion wondered that it could do that while seeming so very human – and his thoughts were abruptly cut off as he found himself literally swept up and dropped unceremoniously back on the bed. “You are not better.” The dragon gave another aggrieved sigh. “Stay here. I suppose I shall have to get you food. Do not leave this room.”
Without waiting for a reply, the dragon stalked to the door – then abruptly stopped, turned back, snatched up a pair of loose black pants that he quickly slipped on, then threw open the bedroom door and stormed out.
Cion blinked, but before he could form a coherent thought the soft bed and soothing sound of the sea beyond the window pulled him back into sleep.
He woke a few minutes later to the sound of growling and a slamming door, and fumbled to sit up – just in time, as the dragon stomped to the bed and all but threw down the silver tray of food he was carrying, very nearly upending it over the clothes still piled next to Cion on the bed.
“Food,” the dragon announced stiffly, looking very much like a weary soldier who’d just lost some vital battle in a particularly humiliating fashion.
Cion ducked his head to hide a smile he could not quite restrain.
He was beginning to suspect that it wasn’t exactly that his rescuer wanted him gone so much as the dragon didn’t know quite what to do with him. “Thank you,” he replied. He flushed as his stomach growled audibly, forcibly remind him that he’d not had more than a cup of tea and the last of his black bread for the past three days. That combined with the beating, it was little wonder he felt dizzy.
Well, a good meal would fix the worst of his problems.
And what a meal it was. Cion almost felt like crying.
White bread, soft and still steaming, cut open and smeared with fresh butter. Hot porridge, sweetened with honey and a touch of milk. Bright orange fruit and the redberries he’d picked as a child, back when he’d been able to do such things. “Thank you,” he repeated softly, and began to eat, savoring each bite, committing each one to memory. He sincerely doubted he’d ever see another meal like this.
He was nearly finished, savoring a last bite of porridge and honey, when the dragon growled – right before the door flew open.
Another dragon. All silvery. Lovely. Not as fine as the black one, and a bit smaller, but still lovely. The dragon opened its mouth to speak – then stopped, staring at Cion. Cion dropped his gaze, wondering if perhaps he’d breached some sort of dragon etiquette.
“Deyllgo…” the silver dragon finally said, “there’s a…human…there’s a human in your bed.” He said the words slowly, repeating himself as though convincing himself he wasn’t crazy.
Deyllgo, if that was indeed the black dragon’s name, growled again. Cion swore he could all but see a tail lashing irritably back and forth across the floor. The absurd thought almost made him laugh. “Yes, Lord Aeynanyi.”
“Why is there a human in your bed?” Lord Aeynanyi peered curiously at Cion, crossing the room to get a closer look. “You have been badly hurt,” he said, eyes on the scratches marring Cion’s face.
“It was badly wounded by some other humans. It is also very small.”
Cion frowned, not certain which annoyed him more – being called an ‘it’ or being described as ‘very, very small.’ So what if he was only just over five feet? So maybe he was fine boned…
All right. He conceded the small. He was not however going to let himself be called it. He opened his mouth to say precisely that, but the dragons kept talking, not giving him a chance to voice a single word.
“Yes,” Lord Aeynanyi said, nodding. “He is rather small.” He gave Cion an apologetic smile. “I am sorry, I am not terribly good at healing human wounds.”
“Huh?” Cion asked. He struggled to comprehend. “No, don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine now that I’ve eaten.” He looked at Deyllgo, dropping his gaze when the dragon only continued to glower at everything around him. “I am most grateful to Master Deyllgo for rescuing me from my attackers last night. I am hardly worthy of such efforts, and it is a debt I cannot repay.”
“What debt?” Lord Aeynanyi asked, looking genuinely confused. “There is none. I will send a human to tend your wounds.” He turned away and looked at Deyllgo, smirking briefly. “He is too small to make even a light snack, Deyllgo, so do not eat him if you lose your temper.”
Deyllgo merely growled.
Lord Aeynanyi left, and Cion went back to his food, hoping that comment about eating him was some sort of dragon joke.
Just as he was working up the nerve to speak to the dragon prowling restlessly around the room, there came a knock at the door. Deyllgo snarled and stalked toward it, startling the man on the other side.
The man swiftly regained his composure, however, voice cool as he spoke. “Lord Aeynanyi sent me.”
“There,” Deyllgo said, pointing to Cion, then stalking across the room to stand in front of the window, crossing his arms and glaring.
Cion shifted his gaze from dragon to man, taking in the fine robes and the insignia of a healer on the right breast…unsurprised but hurt all the same by the cool disapproval he saw in the man’s expression. He couldn’t blame the man, of course, he looked precisely like what he was – a poor, filthy peasant who’d tangled with either the city guard or the city thugs.
That they were one and the same didn’t matter a whit to anyone.
He was riff raff and he knew it, and the healer knew it.
Swallowing, Cion summoned a polite, composed tone of voice. Damn it, he might be a loser now but he wouldn’t act like one if he could help it. “I am sorry you were troubled on my behalf, good Sir. I assure you I am quite fine and you need not bother with me. I shall be ready to leave in a few minutes more.” Even if he’d give a limb to stay a few more hours in this soft, warm bed and enjoy the sound and smell of the sea…
The healer ignored him, merely striding to the bed and setting down his satchel. “You do not look too awful,” he said in a detached, professional tone. He rifled through his satchel, coming up with an ointment and soft cloth. Expressionless, he applied the ointment to the cuts and scrapes.
Cion hissed the first time he did it, startled by the sting, but subsided thereafter.
“Any further wounds?” the healer asked.
“None,” Cion lied, unable to bear it. He didn’t want to be helped if no one truly wanted to help him. The only thing worse than pity was forced pity. His ankle would be fine, and it wasn’t like he would need his left wrist a whole lot anymore anyway.
A low growl. “You are lying. Before, you were limping.”
Face still carefully expressionless, the healer motioned for him to pull back the blankets.
“I’m fine,” Cion said in a faint voice. “I’ve endured worse. I just need to get…home and rest a bit more.”
Ignoring him, the healer carefully went about examining his legs, coming at last to the twisted right ankle. Frowning slightly, he quietly set about bandaging it. “See that you try to stay out of trouble for a few days,” he said when he’d finished. “No doubt that will be difficult, but try anyway.”
Cion flushed with shame and dropped his head. He wasn’t a criminal…but he may as well be, and didn’t thinking that make him more tired than ever.
An angry snarl tore apart the air, and the healer let out a startled, frightened yelp as he suddenly found himself dangling a good foot and a half above the ground.
“You are supposed to make him better,” Deyllgo said angrily. “Why does he look worse? What did you do to him?”
The doctor tried to glare, but dangling as he was the expression looked more ridiculous than threatening. “I am the finest healer on Temnia. I should not be reduced to treating vagabonds and criminals.”
Growling, Deyllgo carried the healer to the door and threw him out.
Cion winced at the painful-sounding landing.
“He…you didn’t need to do that, Master Deyllgo…he helped me enormously.”
Deyllgo shifted his glower from the door to Cion. “You are better?”
“Very nearly, I promise,” Cion replied. To prove his words, he slid slowly from the bed, made certain he wouldn’t fall over, then walked slowly toward Deyllgo. “See? Much better.” So long as he didn’t move quickly or get beat up anytime soon.
Deyllgo eyed him, clearly not quite trusting him. “Then you can go?”
The words shouldn’t have hurt, gods knew he should be used to such things, and it was obvious the dragon did not mean them to be insulting…but Cion wished just once that someone would say ‘stay’ instead of ‘go.’ Just once. For any reason. He swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat. “Yes, I can go. I will go now. Thank you for everything.” He smiled weakly.
“Good.” Deyllgo frowned, shifting in that restless, tail-lashing way of his. “You are small, and should be more careful.” Nodding, as if satisfied in some mysterious way with his own words, Deyllgo stalked to the window and threw himself out of it.
Cion caught a shadow, the flash of black scales struck by sunlight, and then he was utterly alone in the room.
Sighing softly, Cion allowed himself one minute more to enjoy his surroundings, then finally forced himself to leave. It took a couple minutes more to find his boots, somehow they’d wound up beneath the bed, but then he was on his way.
He hunched his shoulders as he traveled through the hallways, feeling worse and worse as he got lost, but unwilling to ask for help when none of the looks cast his way were even remotely encouraging.
After what seemed like ages, and after several long breaks to ease the dizziness and throbbing of his ankle, Cion reached the main entryway, taking the smaller doors off to the side, keeping to the edge of the main courtyard before finally finally reaching the gates.
From there he made his way slowly through the city to the little room that was all he had to call home.
Except instead of his little bed and things stacked neatly on a small table, he found the bed being remade by the land lady and his things crudely bundled up in his old, ragged blanket. “Madame?”
“There you are. I didn’t throw your things out, as you’ve been a good lad…” She gave him a sympathetic look, but the hardness beneath ruined it. “You’ll be wanting to move on, lad, I’ve no longer got a room for you.”
Meaning the thugs had figured out where he lived and scared her into driving him off. At least they hadn’t taken his things.
“Thank you for sparing my belongings,” he said, and tying up the blanket, he turned back the way he’d come and kept walking, finally running out of what energy the food and fear had given him as he reached the small strip of beach where he’d often gone to relax when the city got to be too much.
The area was too rocky and rough for anyone to bother with it when there were countless other, much finer, strips of beach all around.
He frowned out over the water, wondering what in the world he was going to do now.
Briw was long gone, who knew where. He could be on any of the islands, or headed much farther away. Cion should probably feel more hurt by Briw’s treatment, but he’d seen the signs and ignored them until too late.
He just wished the bastard had been decent enough not to leave his lover to suffer for it. He’d been good to Briw, despite everything – it wasn’t right that he be treated as the criminal.
Of course, it wasn’t right that he was the only one left suffering after his father’s gambling ruined everything, after his mother gave up on life because living poor was too much to endure.
It also wasn’t right that he was now out of house and home…but if there was one thing Cion had learned and learned well, it was that he and right did not get on together.
Well, he had the beach. His fishing pole should still be safely hidden amongst the rocks, put there so Briw wouldn’t sell it. That was food, possibly even something he could sell from time to time. When he had the strength, his fancy clothes would fetch enough coin to keep him in bread for awhile.
All he needed to do was wait for the fervor to die down. The men after Briw wouldn’t, surely couldn’t, harass him forever. Then he could earn enough money to maybe travel to another island, start over. He was a good mapmaker, all he needed was a master to test and pass him.
He shoved away the bitter feelings that rose up, thinking of his former master. Who could have tested him, passed him, and been rid of him that way – but instead chose to dismiss him, too easily cowed by thugs.
Cion supposed he couldn’t really blame the man, thugs were hard to argue with when they wore the markings of the Temnia City Guard, but he wanted to.
Fumbling with the knotted blanket, he finally got it open and tucked his few belongings into a shallow hole nearby, then pulled the blanket up over him to keep the sun from burning him. It was hot, but better than being cooked.
Exhaustion carried him swiftly into sleep.
*~*~*~*
Deyllgo prowled the city, growling and snarling in frustrated rage.
He really wished Lord Aeynanyi would stop being so annoying. So he’d saved the small human. That was no reason to Smirk and Laugh. Anyway, the small human was gone. Finally.
On the bright side, the palace was being more careful than ever to stay out of his way.
So all in all he should not feel so frustrated and angry. Lord Aeynanyi would shut up eventually, the humans were leaving him alone…
Deyllgo stalked through the city, wishing furiously that he knew why he was so on edge.
Unfortunately, it looked as though he would have to go harass the squid for a fight, because there was none to be found in the city. He knew. He’d checked every single alleyway. For a fight.
Not a small human who obviously didn’t know how to take care of himself.
Thoroughly disgusted with himself, Deyllgo abandoned the stupid, confusing, useless human city and flew up into the sky. This he understood – the wind, the ocean. No stupid humans to make everything confusing and frustrating.
Flying out over the ocean, Deyllgo went to pick a fight with the giant squid.
He returned as the sun was rising, feeling almost cheerful. Round three belonged to him, and perhaps by the time they felt like round four the squid would have learned some new tricks.
Lord Aeynanyi would not be awake for some time yet, preferring to stay abed with his human as long as possible. Deyllgo carefully turned his thoughts elsewhere, and cast his eyes out over the water and coastline for a distraction.
He faltered briefly in the sky, not expecting to see what he did.
H—The small human was sitting on the rocks…hunched over…holding something…
Obviously the idiot had not followed Deyllgo’s orders to be more careful. He wondered if it was the same thugs. He could hunt them by scent and eat them this time. That would solve the problem.
The way the small human’s eyes widened as he saw Deyllgo was…well, humans should look that way when seeing a dragon. There were reasons humans were all idiots and dragons were not.
Deyllgo changed as he landed on the beach. “Did you get hurt again, small human?”
The human’s face went all red, and it ducked its head. “I am sorry to have troubled you again, Master Deyllgo. I am quite fine, I promise. You…” its face turned an even brighter shade of red. “I’ve never seen a dragon before…as a dragon, I mean. You are quite impressive.”
“I am the largest dragon living,” Deyllgo said, somehow wanting the small human to know that.
The human laughed, smiling at him. Strange. Humans never smiled at him. “I believe it. You must be as big as I am small.”
Deyllgo frowned. “Why are you on the beach at this hour? You are not fishing.”
The human’s smile vanished. “I was sleeping.”
“Sand is more comfortable for sleeping,” Deyllgo said, wondering how the human could not know that. Winds, they really were all stupid, even this small one.
The human laughed again, but it wasn’t the same as the first time. “Yes, but sand is as safe as alleyways for me.”
Deyllgo growled, confused and frustrated. “How does such a small human get into so much trouble? Did you kill someone you should not have?” He was reasonably certain humans couldn’t just kill threats, though that made even less sense to him than most of the things humans did.
“No,” the human said with a smile that was very sad. “My former lover stole some money and then ran away. The people from whom he stole think I might know where he or the money is. I do not, but they won’t believe me. I am staying here until it is safe to go back to the city.” He ducked his head, turning red again, and tucked his hair behind his ear in what struck Deyllgo as a nervous gesture.
Winds take them all, humans made no sense. Especially this small one.
Growling again, Deyllgo tried to find something to say that would make sense. “You know my name, small human. What is yours?” He was eternally grateful to the winds that Lord Aeynanyi wasn’t around to hear him ask a human’s name. Deyllgo would never survive that humiliation.
The human looked at him in surprise, a brief light flaring in his eyes. It…made the human look better, that light. Less aggravating. “Cion,” he said with a small smile.
“Cion,” Deyllgo repeated, deciding it wasn’t too awful for a human name. “So you live here on the rocks? That’s…very bad for humans, isn’t it? Don’t you require castles?”
Cion laughed, throwing his head back, baring his throat. Deyllgo frowned at the bared expanse of fair skin, then growled low and looked irritably away. He should have fought the squid longer, or gone after the whale. “A castle? Certainly not. I had a little room, but the thugs scared her as they did my boss. No home or job for me, I’m afraid.” He shrugged and smiled again, but this was not one of the good smiles. “Not for a little while, anyway.”
Deyllgo glared at the ocean for several minutes, then with a low growl stalked to Cion and scooped him up, ignoring the noises he made. “You are not very good at taking care of yourself, small human. Even small dragons know how to take care of themselves, though even a small dragon is much bigger than you…. Do all small humans have so much trouble?”
“No,” Cion muttered, turning red again, and Deyllgo saw that the red covered not only his face but went down his throat…did it go farther? He growled low as he realized what he was thinking. Obviously he’d been putting up with the humans too long if he was starting to act and think just as stupidly as them. “I need my things, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“Your things?” Deyllgo repeated, then realized Cion was pointing to a strange bundle lying on the rocks. Heaving a sigh, Deyllgo let the human down long enough to pick it up, then promptly picked him up again.
Cion was still bright red, and looked at his bundle rather than at Deyllgo when he spoke. “What are you planning to do with me?”
“You will stay in my room until you can learn to take care of yourself. Honestly, why didn’t anyone teach you?”
“Died or ran away,” Cion said flatly. “I’m quite a skilled mapmaker, but I’m afraid that’s the bulk of what I’ve learned.” He looked up, eyes dark. “You can put me down, you know. I can walk. And I’m only a peasant, I should not be staying in the palace.”
Deyllgo growled and ignored him. Cion obviously was too small to take care of himself, and did not have another human, and even if Lord Aeynanyi was going to Smirk and Laugh even more now, Deyllgo could not just leave Cion alone. He really wished he understood why, because this was all very annoying and frustrating. Did humans ever make sense?
He started to ask Cion that very question, and looked down to add a glare to the words – and stopped.
Cion was fast asleep, head lying against Deyllgo’s shoulders, the faintest of smiles on his face.
Deyllgo growled low, not liking the way that he suddenly felt way too warm and-and-and—he didn’t know what, but it was all the stupid small human’s fault and he would make Cion undo it or fix it or whatever when he woke up.
*~*~*~*
Cion carefully replayed the past night’s events over in his head. When it still did not reshape itself into something that made sense, he did it again. And again.
No matter what he did, it would seem that he had in fact been found by Deyllgo, been taken back to the palace by Deyllgo, and was once more in Deyllgo’s bed.
If only he could figure out why and how.
He remembered being picked up…then he’d woken up here.
Cion carefully did not dwell too long on the fact that he’d been carried back to the palace by a naked dragon. Gods above…
Face hot, Cion quickly directed his thoughts elsewhere. Deyllgo was mercifully absent, though Cion did not know why. Hopefully he had enough time to sneak out.
As much as he wanted to stay…he couldn’t. He knew that. Deyllgo was one of the dragons of the royal palace. He lived in the royal palace. Royal personages did not take in poor, pathetic strays.
Cion hugged himself, permitting himself a few precious seconds to remember much stronger arms holding him close. Deyllgo dwarfed him completely, but Cion had never once felt as…insignificant or foolish as he so often did around other people. He’d felt…
Shunting the whimsical thoughts aside, Cion finally forced himself to get out of the wicked soft bed. Retrieving his clothes and belongings, all of which had been tossed into a corner – and he smiled to think how impatient with everything Deyllgo must have been – Cion dressed quickly and slipped out of the room.
He kept his head down as he walked, struggling to remember how he’d gotten out of the palace the first time. Lost to his thoughts and worries, he didn’t realize anyone was in his path until he crashed into a hard chest. The jolt sent him stumbling, tripping, to land hard on the stone floor.
Cion shook his head, then blinked up at whomever he’d crashed into. “My apologies, Master Soldier. I should have been more careful.”
The soldier, dressed in the burgundy and gold uniform of the palace guard, ignored the apology. “You are…the riff raff Master Deyllgo dragged to the palace.”
Flushing, shamed, Cion ducked his head. “I was leaving, Master Soldier. Master Deyllgo only means well, but I am well aware of my place.”
“He has the mark, just like they said,” another voice muttered, and for the first time Cion realized there were not one but three guards before him.
“M-mark?” he asked, a cold feeling settling in the pit of his stomach.
The guard he’d knocked into smiled – it was a chilling expression. He lifted a hand and tapped a finger to the middle of his right cheek. “Right here. Like a heavy signet ring tore you nicely up.”
Cion began to shake. “I don’t—”
“Know anything?” The soldier sneered, and Cion realized too late that they were wholly alone in the hallway. Him and three guards. “Spare me.”
No one would ever believe him.
If he was alive in a few minutes to tell anyone.
“Yes,” the second guard said, and reached down to snatch Cion up, holding him in the air as though he weighed no more than a sack of feathers. “You were fucking him, you must know something. Where did he go? Do you know how much he took?”
Cion laughed bitterly. “50,000 gold marks. I have no idea where he is. You think he wanted to share that with his bed warmer? I—”
A hard backhand cut his words off, dazing him, making it impossible to scream as he slammed into the wall. He crumpled to the ground, choking on a sobbing cry as he was kicked hard in the stomach.
“Just tell us where the bastard is,” the first guard snarled. “All we need is the bastard and the money and you can live.”
Like killing him was a threat? Bitter sadness welled up, mingling with the bone-deep weariness that had plagued him for longer than he could remember. Another sharp pain made him grunt, but Cion didn’t bother to struggle. Who cared?
Thoughts of an awkward, frustrated, growling dragon flashed through his mind, and Cion wished longingly that he’d stayed in the room long enough to tell Deyllgo thanks and goodb—
A world-shattering roar broke through the haze of pain, and Cion struggled to look but his eyes were so heavy…
He could only listen, as though from a distance, to screams of fear and a familiar growl of rage – but this time it was much louder…almost frightening.
Then the world moved beneath him, and stone floor was replaced by heat.
“Cion,” Deyllgo said.
“Deyllgo,” Cion said softly, distantly realizing that he’d forgotten the honorific. “Thank you…”
“Stupid small human,” Deyllgo muttered.
Cion tried to reply, but all he could think was how warm Deyllgo was and how very, very comforting…
*~*~*~*
“They were guards!” Deyllgo snarled, teeth and claws bared as he glared down Lord Aeynanyi’s Aggravating Human. “They are supposed to protect and instead they were hurting him! Humans make no sense! Why would protectors hurt someone who needs protecting! Look at him! He is small and was already injured! Why does no one protect him? I will not be sorry! They were trying to kill him. I killed them. I will do so to anyone who tries to hurt Cion!”
Cion stared hard at the ornate burgundy and gold rug upon which he kneeled, wishing very much he was still unconscious.
“Deyllgo, I am not saying they didn’t deserve punishment. If they were hurting a civilian, I would have ordered quite a severe punishment indeed.” The Regent’s face hardened. “However, to just kill like that is not the best way to go about it. If nothing else, they could have provided information we sorely need.”
Deyllgo growled. “Humans are stupid. They were trying to kill Cion, so I killed them. That is all there is to it.”
“If they had been hurting you, Miro,” Lord Aeynanyi replied, “I would have killed them. They were hurting Deyllgo’s small human. He was right to kill them. At least he did not make a mess.”
The Regent sighed. “Someone tell me what exactly happened. Cion, why were these guards attacking you? Tell me your story…what little I have heard from Deyllgo has not been terribly clear.”
Cion really wished he was still unconscious. “Lord Regent, I apologize profusely for causing such an upheaval in your palace.”
“Oh, Deyllgo causes ‘upheavals’ daily,” the Regent replied dryly. “I am rather intrigued he’s doing so on behalf of a human. Do tell me your story, please.”
“Yes, Sire. My lover, a man named Briw, was unbeknownst to me engaged in criminal activities. Ignorance is no excuse, but I swear I knew nothing. I was absorbed by my apprentice studies.” Cion shook his head, still hating himself for being so stupid for so long. In retrospect, everything seemed so obvious. “Several days ago he managed to steal away 50,000 gold marks from…” Cion’s brow furrowed. “I do not know who from, only that it was someone important.”
“50,000 gold marks?” The Regent repeated, frowning. “Interesting. Continue.”
Cion nodded and obeyed. “He ran away. I thought that was all there was to it, having learned the hard way my lover was rather more fickle than I’d always believed. I did not realize what he had really done until some men threatened me…and then I lost my apprenticeship, and all those with whom I’d previously associated avoided me. Some more men found me before I could hide myself, cornering me in an alleyway…they were dressed as city guards. That is when Master Deyllgo found me. He helped me again three days ago, shortly after I’d finally been driven from the room I had been renting.”
“I was trying to leave, not wanting to be a burden to Master Deyllgo, when the palace guards confronted me. They wanted the location of my lover, which alas I do not know. He left without saying a word to me.” Cion bowed his head as he finished.
The Regent’s voice was full of rage as he spoke. “City guards? In addition to my palace guards? I had no idea there was so much treachery surrounding me. I wonder how far it has spread…”
Deyllgo growled. “Stupid humans.”
Aeynanyi nodded in agreement. “Dragons would be much better at guarding. We would not hurt small humans who did nothing wrong.”
The Regent snorted in dry amusement. “Well, as I cannot trust any of the soldiers I currently employ, dragons it will have to be. Deyllgo, why don’t you be Captain?”
Deyllgo stared, then growled low in suspicious inquiry. “What?”
“Captain of the Guard. Try not to kill everyone, but a little violence should be tolerable, and you can throw them in prison if you like.”
“Killing would be more efficient,” Deyllgo said. “Fine. I will be this Captain, since humans are too stupid to do it.”
Cion could see the Regent was fighting his amusement.
“Thank you, Deyllgo. Master Cion, what manner of apprenticeship were you under?”
Startled by the honorific, Cion took a moment to gather his thoughts enough to reply. “Ah—I was a mapmaker. Level Nine. I had only to be given my examinations to make Journeyman. My Master was…persuaded to let me go, and so I was not given my examinations.”
The Regent nodded. “Then the very least I can do, as it was my guards who harmed you, is see that you are given your examinations and a place to continue your studies.” He smiled. “I am desirous of having new maps of the Dragon Isles made, if you pass your exams and feel up to the task. Between his new duties, I am certain Deyllgo would be happy to escort you.”
Deyllgo growled but did not argue.
Cion gaped at the Regent, then bowed low and sputtered his gratitude, unable to believe it was true. Surely he would wake up any second on his rocky stretch of beach…
The Regent chuckled and motioned. “Please, go get settled. I will need time to prepare the palace for its new Captain of the Guard. If you need anything, see the Steward.”
Before he could reply, Cion found himself swept up, yelping in surprise. “Master Deyllgo! I can walk just fine.”
“You cannot,” Deyllgo said firmly, stalking from the throne room after snarling at a chuckling Lord Aeynanyi. “You were limping.”
Giving up further protests, knowing by now they were futile, Cion settled into being carried through the palace, cheeks burning as he carefully avoided the stares of those they passed.
In Deyllgo’s room, he was gently set down in the bed.
Which, soft and comfortable as it was, he was starting to get sick of. He was sore, true, but not nearly so bad as he’d been three days ago. If he was going to be stuck in bed, he wished he at least had something to do.
He quickly cut off that line of thought, not liking where it was trying to go as he realized Deyllgo was stripping. It was almost funny, how vehemently Deyllgo hated clothing. The more Cion saw of him, though, the more he had to agree that Deyllgo looked much much better with nothing on at all, his long hair spilling across all that fine muscle…
“I am quite well,” Cion said quietly, carefully not looking at Deyllgo. “I could probably get my own room and leave you in peace.” He hunched his shoulders, not liking how depressing a thought that was.
Giving one of his growls that somehow seemed to express the stony dragon’s feelings better than any words, Deyllgo stalked over to the bed, standing over him, frowning deeply. “No,” he said firmly. “You are small, and not very good at taking care of yourself. I will take care of you.” Deyllgo nodded, clearly believing the matter settled.
“But—you don’t like humans. Everyone in the past three days has told me so.” Cion frowned. “I do not want to be a burden.” Like he always was.
Deyllgo frowned. “I never said you were a burden.”
“You said I was small and too stupid to take care of myself. I don’t want you to do it just because you feel like you have—”
“No!” Deyllgo snarled the word, looking very much as though his tail would be lashing furiously back and forth were he in dragon form. “That is not what I said. No one makes me do anything I don’t want except Lord Aeynanyi. You are staying here.”
Cion looked up at him, wanting so badly to believe he was genuinely wanted it made his chest ache. “Why?” he asked, staring into Deyllgo’s dark eyes.
Deyllgo stared back, something like uncertainty flashing across his face – a moment later it was replaced by a stubborn expression Cion already knew all too well, and then he swooped down and—
A heartbeat later Cion realized he was being kissed. Another second and he realized Deyllgo was quite the fine kisser, as strong and sure as he was in everything else, with a startling gentleness Cion would never have expected in someone so large. He tasted like the sea, with an underlying flavor that was rich and heady.
Cion moaned low, hands seeking out Deyllgo’s broad shoulders, dragging the dragon closer, fingers seeking out that hair to touch and feel before Deyllgo changed his mind.
When Deyllgo finally broke the kiss, it took Cion several seconds to remember how to breathe.
Deyllgo growled, an unmistakable possessive element to it. “I will protect you,” he said firmly.
Cion nodded, realizing he’d forgotten how to breathe again. “I would like that.”
“Good. You are remarkably not stupid for a human.”
Laughing, Cion dragged Deyllgo back down for another one of those dizzying kisses.
Based on The Dragon Isles: The Silver Dragon by
tygati. She wrote about a smexy, snarly black dragon and failed to give him a pretty boy. I solved that little problem for her. The Dragon Isles: The Black Dragon
Deyllgo growled low as he walked through the empty streets of the royal city.
He did not want to be here. He wanted to be home. But a certain Difficult Dragon would not budge from the side of his human and so Deyllgo was stuck now too.
For well over eight months, eleven days and twenty hours now.
Flying and swimming held no appeal, and if he did either he might very well come close to giving in to his urge to go home.
What was so interesting about humans anyway? Dumb clothes, dumb rules, stupid violent tendencies whenever they were scared of or didn’t understand something.
He snarled and kicked at a loose bit of stone.
It was entirely unfair that he wasn’t even able to perform his duty most of the time, Lord Aeynanyi ordering him away as often as he could – and shortly thereafter sneaking away with his confounded human.
So what precisely was a stranded, unwanted bodyguard supposed to do with his time?
Crunching some of the nastier humans was, sadly, no longer an option. Though if they dared to harm Lord Aeynanyi…
Deyllgo cut the thought off before it could increase his frustration to the point he really would do something violent.
Perhaps he should go swimming, he could have another tangle with that giant squid…
A ragged scream broke into his thoughts, and the protector in him honed in immediately on the sounds of pain and fear in it. Growling, he swiftly sought out the source of the sound, moving quickly along the street and eventually to the small alleyway where a group of men were hovering over…something quite small…
Deyllgo didn’t care what was going on, just that someone was hurt and the offenders were stupid enough to have all their backs turned.
Barely a heartbeat later they were lucky to be breathing, strewn out haphazardly across the larger street. He hadn’t bothered to pay attention to where he tossed them.
He frowned curiously at the thing huddled on the ground, listening to it sob and whimper. It was…tiny. Not a child…he didn’t think…did grown humans come this small? Deyllgo glared as it only continued to sob, and finally stalked over and knelt. Damn it, he’d somehow wound up helping a human, it could at least acknowledge the fact.
Prodding it gently, still not convinced the tiny thing was human, Deyllgo frowned and prodded more firmly until it finally, slowly, lifted its head.
Deyllgo growled and almost went back to turn the morons in the street into his late night snack. Why would humans do this to each other?
The man’s face was a mess, cuts and tears all across it, as though he’d been hit with something that had an edge. Dirt and grit were smeared all over and in the wounds, as though his face had been shoved into the dirt. The whole mess was worsened by tears.
“I told you,” the man said, voice trembling and thick with pain, sounding as though every breath was an effort. “I do not have the money. He ran off with all of it.” He groaned and laid his head back down, going suddenly still.
A second later Deyllgo realized the human was unconscious.
He frowned. What in the name of the winds was he supposed to do now? He could just leave it? Though part of him had no problem with that, as humans held no interest for him, Deyllgo’s protective instincts could not simply let him walk away from that wretched, abused face and who knew what other wounds. The human was so small, and the others much larger by comparison (though still insignificant next to him) and there had been four of them, so logically the small human was badly injured.
Vowing silently that Lord Aeynanyi would never learn of this, he’d rather eat his own scales first one by one, Deyllgo carefully lifted the small human in his arms, taking yet more care when it whimpered, and went to go find a warm, safe place to put it.
Unfortunately, it didn’t take more than a minute or two for him to realize that he only really knew one place he could take it. All the human buildings were closed up, and he didn’t know which ones would permit him dumping off a stranger and Lord Aeynanyi would Not Be Pleased if he caused a panic by breaking some rule he knew nothing about.
Grateful that everyone in the palace left him well alone, doubly grateful Lord Aeynanyi never had reason to seek him out in his quarters, Deyllgo quickly made his way back to the palace, slipping through the halls soundlessly, reaching the rooms he’d been given with no interference.
Sighing softly in relief, he deposited the small human on the bed and went in search of things to take care of his wounds. This would be a lot easier if he could get Lord Aeynanyi to heal, but one he didn’t want to walk in on that again and two he didn’t feel like sharing he had a human in his room.
In his bed.
Deyllgo growled at the unfairness of it all and stalked back to the bed.
He knowledge of treating such wounds was severely limited. Dragons were healed by the Wind Lord.
Still growling, Deyllgo carefully set to work cleaning away the grit and blood, growling louder as he saw just how bad the wounds were once he stripped away what was left of the human’s clothing.
Bruises and cuts everywhere…but it seemed everything would heal fine on its own. He thought. Who knew with stupid humans? He impatiently tossed the ruined clothes aside, and immediately sent his own right after them. Winds, he hated the stupid clothing!
At least the palace and Lord Aeynanyi were finally resigned to his wearing nothing more than the…pants. Yes, those. He was not going to encumber his movements by wearing all the rest of that stupid stuff.
Tugging the blankets up over the human, Deyllgo set to prowling the room, not certain what to do now. Would it go away in the morning? Would he be stuck with it for a few days? He stalked back to the bed and glared down at the human.
At the moment, it was rather ugly looking. Not that humans ever looked good, but it would probably be a long time before all the cuts and scrapes healed. The hair was also filthy, dirt and grime all but hiding the dark reddish-brown color.
The small human was making a mess of his bed…but Deyllgo had put him there, so he supposed it wasn’t entirely fair to blame the human for the mess.
He remembered the pain-glazed eyes being a light brown color.
It moaned softly, obviously still in pain despite being asleep, and Deyllgo glared. It was warm, wounds tended, what more did it want from him? Maybe it wasn’t warm enough; it was awfully small for a human. Growling low, wishing he’d just stayed in the castle or gone after the squid from the start, Deyllgo stalked to the trunk where extra blankets were kept – something he’d discovered only yesterday, and only because he’d been bored – and pulled out two, then took them over to the bed and clumsily arranged them over the small human.
There. Maybe now it would be quiet.
As if sensing his thoughts, the small human moaned again, shifting on the bed and then giving what sounded almost like a sob.
Snarling, Deyllgo reached out and grasped its shoulder – and froze when the human abruptly went silent. Had he hurt it? No, he’d been careful… Slowly he withdrew his hand, but almost immediately the noise started up again. He put his hand back on its shoulder, and again the small human grew quiet.
Winds blow all humans to the ends of the world.
Deyllgo stood that way for several minutes, withdrawing his hand only when the human seemed to…sink, somehow, into a deeper sleep. When he withdrew his hand, it stayed quiet.
Satisfied the problem was resolved, Deyllgo abruptly realized he was tired. The last time he’d slept had been…before the slight upheaval he’d caused at that banquet thing. Dealing with the small human had not helped anything.
He could just go sleep somewhere as a dragon…but even if this was a human island, and a human castle, this was his room and he wasn’t going to leave it.
Even if there was a human in his bed who shouldn’t be there but was anyway.
Clenching and unclenching his claw-tipped hands in frustration, Deyllgo finally snarled and crawled into the empty half of the bed. It was his, he was going to sleep in it, and if the human didn’t like it then Deyllgo would be more than happy to go put him back in the alleyway. So there.
Growling low, muttering soft curses against all humans, Dey burrowed into the bed, ignoring the way his dark hair fell all around him, and promptly went to sleep.
Cion murmured softly, resenting wholly that he was starting to wake up. It was warm and soft, and he could smell the sea on a faint breeze. A dream, of course, but so very nice. Couldn’t he enjoy it a bit more?
Apparently not, he thought bitterly, as every ache and pain in his body began to make itself known, rendering going back to sleep impossible. Groaning in agony, he slowly forced his eyes open.
To find himself staring at bed drapes that were far too fine for him to be anywhere near. They were a deep sea green, with the faintest shimmer, pinned to the bedposts with gold silk cords. The bed itself was just as impressive, rich dark wood carved all over with oceanic images. He dared a look at the rest of the room, just as finely appointed and…
Cion felt his cheeks burn and hastily looked away from the image on the far side of the room. A tall, broad-shouldered man with long, long hair and…at a glance, rather a fine physique, as he wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing.
He didn’t look up as he heard the naked man approach.
“Are you feeling better, human? Are you able to return to wherever it is you belong?”
Cion’s bitter reply that he belonged nowhere was forestalled by the ‘human’ part of the first question. Puzzled, he looked up – and up – and realized with a shock that in his one hasty glance he’d missed several vital details.
One oddly pointed, webbed ear was visible where the waist-length hair had been shoved behind it. Strange, dark eyes that almost looked as though they were true black. The hair was the same, a rich blue-black far finer than any Cion had seen before.
Dizzily he noted the other telling signs. Long, black claws on fingers too long to be human…and the scales. If nothing else gave it away, the glistening black scales did. Like oil on water, holding a fine iridescent shine, swirling and spiking in a pattern that reminded him of waves crashing upon the rocks.
“Is something wrong, human?”
The icy voice made Cion realize he was staring, and he felt his face heat with mortification. “Y-you’re a dragon.”
“Yes,” the dragon replied. “Are you healed?”
Cion blinked at him. “Um…I guess? Did you rescue me?”
“You were making a lot of noise,” the dragon said with careful patience, his expression stony, face lined with frustration. “I did not know where to put you. Are you able to leave now that you are awake?”
Ouch. Even his rescuer wanted to be rid of him as soon as possible. Not that Cion had any reason to feel hurt, but that was never how it went in the stories…
Of course, he couldn’t remember ever reading a story involving a poor apprentice mapmaker whose lover wound up being a thug who ran off with money that wasn’t his and left the poor apprentice mapmaker to lose his job, lose what little coin he had, get beat up in alleyways and rescued by a dragon who looked as if he’d preferred he hadn’t played rescuer.
Never let it be said he couldn’t take a hint.
“Of course,” he said, forcing a smile. “I’m fine. Sorry to be such a bother.” He slowly pushed back the blankets – then turned red and hauled the blankets back up. “I, uh, don’t suppose you have my clothes?”
The dragon blinked at him. “They were ruined.”
“I can’t leave without my clothes.”
Muttering something that sounded like ‘stupid humans’ the dragon wandered off, vanishing into another room for several minutes, reappearing just when Cion thought he’d gone away entirely. Piles of clothes were bundled in his arms, and he dropped the entire pile on the bed. “Are these correct?” the dragon demanded, looking affronted and thoroughly offended.
Under ordinary circumstances, Cion might have laughed. The miffed expression was almost cute, especially on such an intimidating figure. He ducked his head to look at the clothing.
Silk. Satin. Superfine. The dragon had just dumped a small fortune’s worth of fabric on his lap as though they were offensive scraps. Cion hesitantly reached out to touch. His own clothes would not cover the cost of a single shining button on the jacket spread across his lap. “Umm…are you certain I cannot just have my clothes back?”
The dragon heaved a long, grievous sigh. “They were ruined. Covered with blood. I threw them out. Why would you want them back? Aren’t these good enough?” He glared.
Swallowing, Cion gave a nod and fumbled through the costly pile for something simple, finally tugging on a loose pair of pants and an overlarge shirt. Perhaps if he had time he could do something to adjust them…
If he was still alive.
Feeling sick and dizzy, Cion forced himself to stand and dress, fighting embarrassment as the dragon merely stood there and watched him. At last dressed, wishing badly that he could crawl back into that wicked-soft bed, he turned to the dragon and bowed. Bad idea. Fighting the dizziness that washed over him, Cion rose and kept his eyes politely directed at the floor. “Thank you, Master Dragon, for rescuing me. I am sorry to have caused you so much trouble. I bid you good day and good fortune in all things.”
When he felt reasonably confident he wouldn’t fall flat on his face, Cion slowly turned and began to walk towards the door. His ankle protested that – loudly – but there was nothing for it. He wouldn’t stay where he wasn’t wanted.
A hand wrapped firmly around his upper arm and forced him to a halt. “You are not better.”
“I will be fine,” Cion answered, frowning up – and up – at the dragon. This had to be one of the ones staying in the palace. Which meant he was in the palace. Fighting panic, feeling thoroughly overwhelmed and lost and tired and confused and so very sick of it all, Cion strove to sound more confident than he felt. Than he ever felt.
The dragon growled – growled! How utterly fascinating, Cion wondered that it could do that while seeming so very human – and his thoughts were abruptly cut off as he found himself literally swept up and dropped unceremoniously back on the bed. “You are not better.” The dragon gave another aggrieved sigh. “Stay here. I suppose I shall have to get you food. Do not leave this room.”
Without waiting for a reply, the dragon stalked to the door – then abruptly stopped, turned back, snatched up a pair of loose black pants that he quickly slipped on, then threw open the bedroom door and stormed out.
Cion blinked, but before he could form a coherent thought the soft bed and soothing sound of the sea beyond the window pulled him back into sleep.
He woke a few minutes later to the sound of growling and a slamming door, and fumbled to sit up – just in time, as the dragon stomped to the bed and all but threw down the silver tray of food he was carrying, very nearly upending it over the clothes still piled next to Cion on the bed.
“Food,” the dragon announced stiffly, looking very much like a weary soldier who’d just lost some vital battle in a particularly humiliating fashion.
Cion ducked his head to hide a smile he could not quite restrain.
He was beginning to suspect that it wasn’t exactly that his rescuer wanted him gone so much as the dragon didn’t know quite what to do with him. “Thank you,” he replied. He flushed as his stomach growled audibly, forcibly remind him that he’d not had more than a cup of tea and the last of his black bread for the past three days. That combined with the beating, it was little wonder he felt dizzy.
Well, a good meal would fix the worst of his problems.
And what a meal it was. Cion almost felt like crying.
White bread, soft and still steaming, cut open and smeared with fresh butter. Hot porridge, sweetened with honey and a touch of milk. Bright orange fruit and the redberries he’d picked as a child, back when he’d been able to do such things. “Thank you,” he repeated softly, and began to eat, savoring each bite, committing each one to memory. He sincerely doubted he’d ever see another meal like this.
He was nearly finished, savoring a last bite of porridge and honey, when the dragon growled – right before the door flew open.
Another dragon. All silvery. Lovely. Not as fine as the black one, and a bit smaller, but still lovely. The dragon opened its mouth to speak – then stopped, staring at Cion. Cion dropped his gaze, wondering if perhaps he’d breached some sort of dragon etiquette.
“Deyllgo…” the silver dragon finally said, “there’s a…human…there’s a human in your bed.” He said the words slowly, repeating himself as though convincing himself he wasn’t crazy.
Deyllgo, if that was indeed the black dragon’s name, growled again. Cion swore he could all but see a tail lashing irritably back and forth across the floor. The absurd thought almost made him laugh. “Yes, Lord Aeynanyi.”
“Why is there a human in your bed?” Lord Aeynanyi peered curiously at Cion, crossing the room to get a closer look. “You have been badly hurt,” he said, eyes on the scratches marring Cion’s face.
“It was badly wounded by some other humans. It is also very small.”
Cion frowned, not certain which annoyed him more – being called an ‘it’ or being described as ‘very, very small.’ So what if he was only just over five feet? So maybe he was fine boned…
All right. He conceded the small. He was not however going to let himself be called it. He opened his mouth to say precisely that, but the dragons kept talking, not giving him a chance to voice a single word.
“Yes,” Lord Aeynanyi said, nodding. “He is rather small.” He gave Cion an apologetic smile. “I am sorry, I am not terribly good at healing human wounds.”
“Huh?” Cion asked. He struggled to comprehend. “No, don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine now that I’ve eaten.” He looked at Deyllgo, dropping his gaze when the dragon only continued to glower at everything around him. “I am most grateful to Master Deyllgo for rescuing me from my attackers last night. I am hardly worthy of such efforts, and it is a debt I cannot repay.”
“What debt?” Lord Aeynanyi asked, looking genuinely confused. “There is none. I will send a human to tend your wounds.” He turned away and looked at Deyllgo, smirking briefly. “He is too small to make even a light snack, Deyllgo, so do not eat him if you lose your temper.”
Deyllgo merely growled.
Lord Aeynanyi left, and Cion went back to his food, hoping that comment about eating him was some sort of dragon joke.
Just as he was working up the nerve to speak to the dragon prowling restlessly around the room, there came a knock at the door. Deyllgo snarled and stalked toward it, startling the man on the other side.
The man swiftly regained his composure, however, voice cool as he spoke. “Lord Aeynanyi sent me.”
“There,” Deyllgo said, pointing to Cion, then stalking across the room to stand in front of the window, crossing his arms and glaring.
Cion shifted his gaze from dragon to man, taking in the fine robes and the insignia of a healer on the right breast…unsurprised but hurt all the same by the cool disapproval he saw in the man’s expression. He couldn’t blame the man, of course, he looked precisely like what he was – a poor, filthy peasant who’d tangled with either the city guard or the city thugs.
That they were one and the same didn’t matter a whit to anyone.
He was riff raff and he knew it, and the healer knew it.
Swallowing, Cion summoned a polite, composed tone of voice. Damn it, he might be a loser now but he wouldn’t act like one if he could help it. “I am sorry you were troubled on my behalf, good Sir. I assure you I am quite fine and you need not bother with me. I shall be ready to leave in a few minutes more.” Even if he’d give a limb to stay a few more hours in this soft, warm bed and enjoy the sound and smell of the sea…
The healer ignored him, merely striding to the bed and setting down his satchel. “You do not look too awful,” he said in a detached, professional tone. He rifled through his satchel, coming up with an ointment and soft cloth. Expressionless, he applied the ointment to the cuts and scrapes.
Cion hissed the first time he did it, startled by the sting, but subsided thereafter.
“Any further wounds?” the healer asked.
“None,” Cion lied, unable to bear it. He didn’t want to be helped if no one truly wanted to help him. The only thing worse than pity was forced pity. His ankle would be fine, and it wasn’t like he would need his left wrist a whole lot anymore anyway.
A low growl. “You are lying. Before, you were limping.”
Face still carefully expressionless, the healer motioned for him to pull back the blankets.
“I’m fine,” Cion said in a faint voice. “I’ve endured worse. I just need to get…home and rest a bit more.”
Ignoring him, the healer carefully went about examining his legs, coming at last to the twisted right ankle. Frowning slightly, he quietly set about bandaging it. “See that you try to stay out of trouble for a few days,” he said when he’d finished. “No doubt that will be difficult, but try anyway.”
Cion flushed with shame and dropped his head. He wasn’t a criminal…but he may as well be, and didn’t thinking that make him more tired than ever.
An angry snarl tore apart the air, and the healer let out a startled, frightened yelp as he suddenly found himself dangling a good foot and a half above the ground.
“You are supposed to make him better,” Deyllgo said angrily. “Why does he look worse? What did you do to him?”
The doctor tried to glare, but dangling as he was the expression looked more ridiculous than threatening. “I am the finest healer on Temnia. I should not be reduced to treating vagabonds and criminals.”
Growling, Deyllgo carried the healer to the door and threw him out.
Cion winced at the painful-sounding landing.
“He…you didn’t need to do that, Master Deyllgo…he helped me enormously.”
Deyllgo shifted his glower from the door to Cion. “You are better?”
“Very nearly, I promise,” Cion replied. To prove his words, he slid slowly from the bed, made certain he wouldn’t fall over, then walked slowly toward Deyllgo. “See? Much better.” So long as he didn’t move quickly or get beat up anytime soon.
Deyllgo eyed him, clearly not quite trusting him. “Then you can go?”
The words shouldn’t have hurt, gods knew he should be used to such things, and it was obvious the dragon did not mean them to be insulting…but Cion wished just once that someone would say ‘stay’ instead of ‘go.’ Just once. For any reason. He swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat. “Yes, I can go. I will go now. Thank you for everything.” He smiled weakly.
“Good.” Deyllgo frowned, shifting in that restless, tail-lashing way of his. “You are small, and should be more careful.” Nodding, as if satisfied in some mysterious way with his own words, Deyllgo stalked to the window and threw himself out of it.
Cion caught a shadow, the flash of black scales struck by sunlight, and then he was utterly alone in the room.
Sighing softly, Cion allowed himself one minute more to enjoy his surroundings, then finally forced himself to leave. It took a couple minutes more to find his boots, somehow they’d wound up beneath the bed, but then he was on his way.
He hunched his shoulders as he traveled through the hallways, feeling worse and worse as he got lost, but unwilling to ask for help when none of the looks cast his way were even remotely encouraging.
After what seemed like ages, and after several long breaks to ease the dizziness and throbbing of his ankle, Cion reached the main entryway, taking the smaller doors off to the side, keeping to the edge of the main courtyard before finally finally reaching the gates.
From there he made his way slowly through the city to the little room that was all he had to call home.
Except instead of his little bed and things stacked neatly on a small table, he found the bed being remade by the land lady and his things crudely bundled up in his old, ragged blanket. “Madame?”
“There you are. I didn’t throw your things out, as you’ve been a good lad…” She gave him a sympathetic look, but the hardness beneath ruined it. “You’ll be wanting to move on, lad, I’ve no longer got a room for you.”
Meaning the thugs had figured out where he lived and scared her into driving him off. At least they hadn’t taken his things.
“Thank you for sparing my belongings,” he said, and tying up the blanket, he turned back the way he’d come and kept walking, finally running out of what energy the food and fear had given him as he reached the small strip of beach where he’d often gone to relax when the city got to be too much.
The area was too rocky and rough for anyone to bother with it when there were countless other, much finer, strips of beach all around.
He frowned out over the water, wondering what in the world he was going to do now.
Briw was long gone, who knew where. He could be on any of the islands, or headed much farther away. Cion should probably feel more hurt by Briw’s treatment, but he’d seen the signs and ignored them until too late.
He just wished the bastard had been decent enough not to leave his lover to suffer for it. He’d been good to Briw, despite everything – it wasn’t right that he be treated as the criminal.
Of course, it wasn’t right that he was the only one left suffering after his father’s gambling ruined everything, after his mother gave up on life because living poor was too much to endure.
It also wasn’t right that he was now out of house and home…but if there was one thing Cion had learned and learned well, it was that he and right did not get on together.
Well, he had the beach. His fishing pole should still be safely hidden amongst the rocks, put there so Briw wouldn’t sell it. That was food, possibly even something he could sell from time to time. When he had the strength, his fancy clothes would fetch enough coin to keep him in bread for awhile.
All he needed to do was wait for the fervor to die down. The men after Briw wouldn’t, surely couldn’t, harass him forever. Then he could earn enough money to maybe travel to another island, start over. He was a good mapmaker, all he needed was a master to test and pass him.
He shoved away the bitter feelings that rose up, thinking of his former master. Who could have tested him, passed him, and been rid of him that way – but instead chose to dismiss him, too easily cowed by thugs.
Cion supposed he couldn’t really blame the man, thugs were hard to argue with when they wore the markings of the Temnia City Guard, but he wanted to.
Fumbling with the knotted blanket, he finally got it open and tucked his few belongings into a shallow hole nearby, then pulled the blanket up over him to keep the sun from burning him. It was hot, but better than being cooked.
Exhaustion carried him swiftly into sleep.
Deyllgo prowled the city, growling and snarling in frustrated rage.
He really wished Lord Aeynanyi would stop being so annoying. So he’d saved the small human. That was no reason to Smirk and Laugh. Anyway, the small human was gone. Finally.
On the bright side, the palace was being more careful than ever to stay out of his way.
So all in all he should not feel so frustrated and angry. Lord Aeynanyi would shut up eventually, the humans were leaving him alone…
Deyllgo stalked through the city, wishing furiously that he knew why he was so on edge.
Unfortunately, it looked as though he would have to go harass the squid for a fight, because there was none to be found in the city. He knew. He’d checked every single alleyway. For a fight.
Not a small human who obviously didn’t know how to take care of himself.
Thoroughly disgusted with himself, Deyllgo abandoned the stupid, confusing, useless human city and flew up into the sky. This he understood – the wind, the ocean. No stupid humans to make everything confusing and frustrating.
Flying out over the ocean, Deyllgo went to pick a fight with the giant squid.
He returned as the sun was rising, feeling almost cheerful. Round three belonged to him, and perhaps by the time they felt like round four the squid would have learned some new tricks.
Lord Aeynanyi would not be awake for some time yet, preferring to stay abed with his human as long as possible. Deyllgo carefully turned his thoughts elsewhere, and cast his eyes out over the water and coastline for a distraction.
He faltered briefly in the sky, not expecting to see what he did.
H—The small human was sitting on the rocks…hunched over…holding something…
Obviously the idiot had not followed Deyllgo’s orders to be more careful. He wondered if it was the same thugs. He could hunt them by scent and eat them this time. That would solve the problem.
The way the small human’s eyes widened as he saw Deyllgo was…well, humans should look that way when seeing a dragon. There were reasons humans were all idiots and dragons were not.
Deyllgo changed as he landed on the beach. “Did you get hurt again, small human?”
The human’s face went all red, and it ducked its head. “I am sorry to have troubled you again, Master Deyllgo. I am quite fine, I promise. You…” its face turned an even brighter shade of red. “I’ve never seen a dragon before…as a dragon, I mean. You are quite impressive.”
“I am the largest dragon living,” Deyllgo said, somehow wanting the small human to know that.
The human laughed, smiling at him. Strange. Humans never smiled at him. “I believe it. You must be as big as I am small.”
Deyllgo frowned. “Why are you on the beach at this hour? You are not fishing.”
The human’s smile vanished. “I was sleeping.”
“Sand is more comfortable for sleeping,” Deyllgo said, wondering how the human could not know that. Winds, they really were all stupid, even this small one.
The human laughed again, but it wasn’t the same as the first time. “Yes, but sand is as safe as alleyways for me.”
Deyllgo growled, confused and frustrated. “How does such a small human get into so much trouble? Did you kill someone you should not have?” He was reasonably certain humans couldn’t just kill threats, though that made even less sense to him than most of the things humans did.
“No,” the human said with a smile that was very sad. “My former lover stole some money and then ran away. The people from whom he stole think I might know where he or the money is. I do not, but they won’t believe me. I am staying here until it is safe to go back to the city.” He ducked his head, turning red again, and tucked his hair behind his ear in what struck Deyllgo as a nervous gesture.
Winds take them all, humans made no sense. Especially this small one.
Growling again, Deyllgo tried to find something to say that would make sense. “You know my name, small human. What is yours?” He was eternally grateful to the winds that Lord Aeynanyi wasn’t around to hear him ask a human’s name. Deyllgo would never survive that humiliation.
The human looked at him in surprise, a brief light flaring in his eyes. It…made the human look better, that light. Less aggravating. “Cion,” he said with a small smile.
“Cion,” Deyllgo repeated, deciding it wasn’t too awful for a human name. “So you live here on the rocks? That’s…very bad for humans, isn’t it? Don’t you require castles?”
Cion laughed, throwing his head back, baring his throat. Deyllgo frowned at the bared expanse of fair skin, then growled low and looked irritably away. He should have fought the squid longer, or gone after the whale. “A castle? Certainly not. I had a little room, but the thugs scared her as they did my boss. No home or job for me, I’m afraid.” He shrugged and smiled again, but this was not one of the good smiles. “Not for a little while, anyway.”
Deyllgo glared at the ocean for several minutes, then with a low growl stalked to Cion and scooped him up, ignoring the noises he made. “You are not very good at taking care of yourself, small human. Even small dragons know how to take care of themselves, though even a small dragon is much bigger than you…. Do all small humans have so much trouble?”
“No,” Cion muttered, turning red again, and Deyllgo saw that the red covered not only his face but went down his throat…did it go farther? He growled low as he realized what he was thinking. Obviously he’d been putting up with the humans too long if he was starting to act and think just as stupidly as them. “I need my things, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“Your things?” Deyllgo repeated, then realized Cion was pointing to a strange bundle lying on the rocks. Heaving a sigh, Deyllgo let the human down long enough to pick it up, then promptly picked him up again.
Cion was still bright red, and looked at his bundle rather than at Deyllgo when he spoke. “What are you planning to do with me?”
“You will stay in my room until you can learn to take care of yourself. Honestly, why didn’t anyone teach you?”
“Died or ran away,” Cion said flatly. “I’m quite a skilled mapmaker, but I’m afraid that’s the bulk of what I’ve learned.” He looked up, eyes dark. “You can put me down, you know. I can walk. And I’m only a peasant, I should not be staying in the palace.”
Deyllgo growled and ignored him. Cion obviously was too small to take care of himself, and did not have another human, and even if Lord Aeynanyi was going to Smirk and Laugh even more now, Deyllgo could not just leave Cion alone. He really wished he understood why, because this was all very annoying and frustrating. Did humans ever make sense?
He started to ask Cion that very question, and looked down to add a glare to the words – and stopped.
Cion was fast asleep, head lying against Deyllgo’s shoulders, the faintest of smiles on his face.
Deyllgo growled low, not liking the way that he suddenly felt way too warm and-and-and—he didn’t know what, but it was all the stupid small human’s fault and he would make Cion undo it or fix it or whatever when he woke up.
Cion carefully replayed the past night’s events over in his head. When it still did not reshape itself into something that made sense, he did it again. And again.
No matter what he did, it would seem that he had in fact been found by Deyllgo, been taken back to the palace by Deyllgo, and was once more in Deyllgo’s bed.
If only he could figure out why and how.
He remembered being picked up…then he’d woken up here.
Cion carefully did not dwell too long on the fact that he’d been carried back to the palace by a naked dragon. Gods above…
Face hot, Cion quickly directed his thoughts elsewhere. Deyllgo was mercifully absent, though Cion did not know why. Hopefully he had enough time to sneak out.
As much as he wanted to stay…he couldn’t. He knew that. Deyllgo was one of the dragons of the royal palace. He lived in the royal palace. Royal personages did not take in poor, pathetic strays.
Cion hugged himself, permitting himself a few precious seconds to remember much stronger arms holding him close. Deyllgo dwarfed him completely, but Cion had never once felt as…insignificant or foolish as he so often did around other people. He’d felt…
Shunting the whimsical thoughts aside, Cion finally forced himself to get out of the wicked soft bed. Retrieving his clothes and belongings, all of which had been tossed into a corner – and he smiled to think how impatient with everything Deyllgo must have been – Cion dressed quickly and slipped out of the room.
He kept his head down as he walked, struggling to remember how he’d gotten out of the palace the first time. Lost to his thoughts and worries, he didn’t realize anyone was in his path until he crashed into a hard chest. The jolt sent him stumbling, tripping, to land hard on the stone floor.
Cion shook his head, then blinked up at whomever he’d crashed into. “My apologies, Master Soldier. I should have been more careful.”
The soldier, dressed in the burgundy and gold uniform of the palace guard, ignored the apology. “You are…the riff raff Master Deyllgo dragged to the palace.”
Flushing, shamed, Cion ducked his head. “I was leaving, Master Soldier. Master Deyllgo only means well, but I am well aware of my place.”
“He has the mark, just like they said,” another voice muttered, and for the first time Cion realized there were not one but three guards before him.
“M-mark?” he asked, a cold feeling settling in the pit of his stomach.
The guard he’d knocked into smiled – it was a chilling expression. He lifted a hand and tapped a finger to the middle of his right cheek. “Right here. Like a heavy signet ring tore you nicely up.”
Cion began to shake. “I don’t—”
“Know anything?” The soldier sneered, and Cion realized too late that they were wholly alone in the hallway. Him and three guards. “Spare me.”
No one would ever believe him.
If he was alive in a few minutes to tell anyone.
“Yes,” the second guard said, and reached down to snatch Cion up, holding him in the air as though he weighed no more than a sack of feathers. “You were fucking him, you must know something. Where did he go? Do you know how much he took?”
Cion laughed bitterly. “50,000 gold marks. I have no idea where he is. You think he wanted to share that with his bed warmer? I—”
A hard backhand cut his words off, dazing him, making it impossible to scream as he slammed into the wall. He crumpled to the ground, choking on a sobbing cry as he was kicked hard in the stomach.
“Just tell us where the bastard is,” the first guard snarled. “All we need is the bastard and the money and you can live.”
Like killing him was a threat? Bitter sadness welled up, mingling with the bone-deep weariness that had plagued him for longer than he could remember. Another sharp pain made him grunt, but Cion didn’t bother to struggle. Who cared?
Thoughts of an awkward, frustrated, growling dragon flashed through his mind, and Cion wished longingly that he’d stayed in the room long enough to tell Deyllgo thanks and goodb—
A world-shattering roar broke through the haze of pain, and Cion struggled to look but his eyes were so heavy…
He could only listen, as though from a distance, to screams of fear and a familiar growl of rage – but this time it was much louder…almost frightening.
Then the world moved beneath him, and stone floor was replaced by heat.
“Cion,” Deyllgo said.
“Deyllgo,” Cion said softly, distantly realizing that he’d forgotten the honorific. “Thank you…”
“Stupid small human,” Deyllgo muttered.
Cion tried to reply, but all he could think was how warm Deyllgo was and how very, very comforting…
“They were guards!” Deyllgo snarled, teeth and claws bared as he glared down Lord Aeynanyi’s Aggravating Human. “They are supposed to protect and instead they were hurting him! Humans make no sense! Why would protectors hurt someone who needs protecting! Look at him! He is small and was already injured! Why does no one protect him? I will not be sorry! They were trying to kill him. I killed them. I will do so to anyone who tries to hurt Cion!”
Cion stared hard at the ornate burgundy and gold rug upon which he kneeled, wishing very much he was still unconscious.
“Deyllgo, I am not saying they didn’t deserve punishment. If they were hurting a civilian, I would have ordered quite a severe punishment indeed.” The Regent’s face hardened. “However, to just kill like that is not the best way to go about it. If nothing else, they could have provided information we sorely need.”
Deyllgo growled. “Humans are stupid. They were trying to kill Cion, so I killed them. That is all there is to it.”
“If they had been hurting you, Miro,” Lord Aeynanyi replied, “I would have killed them. They were hurting Deyllgo’s small human. He was right to kill them. At least he did not make a mess.”
The Regent sighed. “Someone tell me what exactly happened. Cion, why were these guards attacking you? Tell me your story…what little I have heard from Deyllgo has not been terribly clear.”
Cion really wished he was still unconscious. “Lord Regent, I apologize profusely for causing such an upheaval in your palace.”
“Oh, Deyllgo causes ‘upheavals’ daily,” the Regent replied dryly. “I am rather intrigued he’s doing so on behalf of a human. Do tell me your story, please.”
“Yes, Sire. My lover, a man named Briw, was unbeknownst to me engaged in criminal activities. Ignorance is no excuse, but I swear I knew nothing. I was absorbed by my apprentice studies.” Cion shook his head, still hating himself for being so stupid for so long. In retrospect, everything seemed so obvious. “Several days ago he managed to steal away 50,000 gold marks from…” Cion’s brow furrowed. “I do not know who from, only that it was someone important.”
“50,000 gold marks?” The Regent repeated, frowning. “Interesting. Continue.”
Cion nodded and obeyed. “He ran away. I thought that was all there was to it, having learned the hard way my lover was rather more fickle than I’d always believed. I did not realize what he had really done until some men threatened me…and then I lost my apprenticeship, and all those with whom I’d previously associated avoided me. Some more men found me before I could hide myself, cornering me in an alleyway…they were dressed as city guards. That is when Master Deyllgo found me. He helped me again three days ago, shortly after I’d finally been driven from the room I had been renting.”
“I was trying to leave, not wanting to be a burden to Master Deyllgo, when the palace guards confronted me. They wanted the location of my lover, which alas I do not know. He left without saying a word to me.” Cion bowed his head as he finished.
The Regent’s voice was full of rage as he spoke. “City guards? In addition to my palace guards? I had no idea there was so much treachery surrounding me. I wonder how far it has spread…”
Deyllgo growled. “Stupid humans.”
Aeynanyi nodded in agreement. “Dragons would be much better at guarding. We would not hurt small humans who did nothing wrong.”
The Regent snorted in dry amusement. “Well, as I cannot trust any of the soldiers I currently employ, dragons it will have to be. Deyllgo, why don’t you be Captain?”
Deyllgo stared, then growled low in suspicious inquiry. “What?”
“Captain of the Guard. Try not to kill everyone, but a little violence should be tolerable, and you can throw them in prison if you like.”
“Killing would be more efficient,” Deyllgo said. “Fine. I will be this Captain, since humans are too stupid to do it.”
Cion could see the Regent was fighting his amusement.
“Thank you, Deyllgo. Master Cion, what manner of apprenticeship were you under?”
Startled by the honorific, Cion took a moment to gather his thoughts enough to reply. “Ah—I was a mapmaker. Level Nine. I had only to be given my examinations to make Journeyman. My Master was…persuaded to let me go, and so I was not given my examinations.”
The Regent nodded. “Then the very least I can do, as it was my guards who harmed you, is see that you are given your examinations and a place to continue your studies.” He smiled. “I am desirous of having new maps of the Dragon Isles made, if you pass your exams and feel up to the task. Between his new duties, I am certain Deyllgo would be happy to escort you.”
Deyllgo growled but did not argue.
Cion gaped at the Regent, then bowed low and sputtered his gratitude, unable to believe it was true. Surely he would wake up any second on his rocky stretch of beach…
The Regent chuckled and motioned. “Please, go get settled. I will need time to prepare the palace for its new Captain of the Guard. If you need anything, see the Steward.”
Before he could reply, Cion found himself swept up, yelping in surprise. “Master Deyllgo! I can walk just fine.”
“You cannot,” Deyllgo said firmly, stalking from the throne room after snarling at a chuckling Lord Aeynanyi. “You were limping.”
Giving up further protests, knowing by now they were futile, Cion settled into being carried through the palace, cheeks burning as he carefully avoided the stares of those they passed.
In Deyllgo’s room, he was gently set down in the bed.
Which, soft and comfortable as it was, he was starting to get sick of. He was sore, true, but not nearly so bad as he’d been three days ago. If he was going to be stuck in bed, he wished he at least had something to do.
He quickly cut off that line of thought, not liking where it was trying to go as he realized Deyllgo was stripping. It was almost funny, how vehemently Deyllgo hated clothing. The more Cion saw of him, though, the more he had to agree that Deyllgo looked much much better with nothing on at all, his long hair spilling across all that fine muscle…
“I am quite well,” Cion said quietly, carefully not looking at Deyllgo. “I could probably get my own room and leave you in peace.” He hunched his shoulders, not liking how depressing a thought that was.
Giving one of his growls that somehow seemed to express the stony dragon’s feelings better than any words, Deyllgo stalked over to the bed, standing over him, frowning deeply. “No,” he said firmly. “You are small, and not very good at taking care of yourself. I will take care of you.” Deyllgo nodded, clearly believing the matter settled.
“But—you don’t like humans. Everyone in the past three days has told me so.” Cion frowned. “I do not want to be a burden.” Like he always was.
Deyllgo frowned. “I never said you were a burden.”
“You said I was small and too stupid to take care of myself. I don’t want you to do it just because you feel like you have—”
“No!” Deyllgo snarled the word, looking very much as though his tail would be lashing furiously back and forth were he in dragon form. “That is not what I said. No one makes me do anything I don’t want except Lord Aeynanyi. You are staying here.”
Cion looked up at him, wanting so badly to believe he was genuinely wanted it made his chest ache. “Why?” he asked, staring into Deyllgo’s dark eyes.
Deyllgo stared back, something like uncertainty flashing across his face – a moment later it was replaced by a stubborn expression Cion already knew all too well, and then he swooped down and—
A heartbeat later Cion realized he was being kissed. Another second and he realized Deyllgo was quite the fine kisser, as strong and sure as he was in everything else, with a startling gentleness Cion would never have expected in someone so large. He tasted like the sea, with an underlying flavor that was rich and heady.
Cion moaned low, hands seeking out Deyllgo’s broad shoulders, dragging the dragon closer, fingers seeking out that hair to touch and feel before Deyllgo changed his mind.
When Deyllgo finally broke the kiss, it took Cion several seconds to remember how to breathe.
Deyllgo growled, an unmistakable possessive element to it. “I will protect you,” he said firmly.
Cion nodded, realizing he’d forgotten how to breathe again. “I would like that.”
“Good. You are remarkably not stupid for a human.”
Laughing, Cion dragged Deyllgo back down for another one of those dizzying kisses.
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Date: 2007-03-09 10:29 pm (UTC)And also- maderr- great story! my favorit line was,
"They were hurting Deyllgo’s small human. He was right to kill them"
good stuff.