Beauty and the Dragon

by Melody Rose

  “It’s time,” I confirmed. “Let us take what is owed to us. For all of the realm.”

  31

  Rose

  On the morning of our wedding, Troy and I agreed not to think about our shared responsibilities. He enjoyed a magnificent banquet, filled with songs and rejoicing. I heard that the men also indulged in a few rounds of archery and boulder throwing, just to get the blood rushing and spirits high.

  Meanwhile, my main goal was to be as pretty as possible for the big day. Since I wasn’t supposed to fret over small details, I was glad Nadine would be taking care of me. I sat in front of the vanity in my bedroom, absentmindedly petting my hair. I didn’t know what a dragoness queen was meant to look like. I wondered what everyone else was expecting. I drummed my fingers on my lap to distract myself. I promised myself I wouldn’t get caught up in any bridal silliness.

  A polite knock made me come back to my senses. I swiveled around to face my favorite seamstress.

  “Come in!” I called out cheerfully. “I don’t know what I’d do without you!”

  My silver-haired friend glided in, bubbly and giddy. A thin gown with impeccable lacework was slung over her arm. She also carried a pretty beaded satchel. I assumed that she let her creativity go wild, although I was surprised since the piece seemed custom made. I remembered her mentioning how often her hands got tired and how many of her projects were left half done.

  “A bridal gown truly fit for a Queen!” Nadine trilled. “I’m not usually one to boast, but I know you’ll fall in love with this!”

  I wanted to throw my arms around her in a tight embrace, but I was afraid to crush her masterpiece.

  “You came so prepared!” I remarked. “How did you possibly know? This must’ve taken you ages to make! It’s ridiculously gorgeous.”

  Nadine smirked at my glowing review. “To be honest, I didn’t,” she admitted. “While Harlin isn’t beyond opening up to me, even he has secrets he’ll keep from me. In fact, I made this just last night. You can say that a moment of inspiration swept over me.”

  I guessed that the powers created by the bond of Fated Mates were enough to heal much of the damage done to the Jörmungandr clan, and the rest of the continent, for that matter.

  I nodded gratefully, then allowed her to dress me for the momentous occasion. The wedding attire was pretty intricate, involving not just the gown itself but also a waist cincher of silver filigree, beautifully wrought shoulder plates, and a gleaming coronet. Amazingly, Nadine was also able to adorn my face with one flourish. As she moved her hand, her enchantment darkened my eyelashes and colored my lips. As I took myself in, studying myself in the mirror, I knew that there was no one better than her for this day.

  With a wink, Nadine clasped a pearl choker on me and completed the ensemble. “Absolutely divine,” she uttered. “You are ready, my Queen.”

  The hour finally arrived for me to bind myself with Troy for an eternity. Although we had been lovers for many lifetimes, I was still a mess of jitters. Maybe being part human meant overexcitement. Perhaps I would always be delirious with joy. Being lost into the ether and resurfacing to find your Fated Mate could do that to a woman.

  The entire clan, except for Astrid, was in attendance. I was glad not to wear a veil, too eager to show my pride. It was midday, the skies a dizzyingly pretty mixture of magenta and violet. I thought about how the scene could have been ripped from a fairytale. How appropriate. A Queen disguised as a humble librarian reuniting with her loyal dragon. I almost giggled, but I didn’t want to ruin the formality.

  As I approached the end of the aisle, covered with ebony and emerald rose petals, I saw that Troy was completely concealed. His massive black wings folded in front of him, proof of what he’d regained. What a funny twist on traditions. I was used to women calling dibs on the big reveal. I stepped closer to him, briefly glancing at Kalen, who stood behind a marble podium. My beloved sensed me, parting his wings so that they spread out behind him, drawing a collective gasp. He looked truly magnificent in head to toe steel armor. I adored how it glinted in the sun and felt honored to be his bride.

  Each of us had a fist balled, holding the ring that told the realm we claimed each other. My eyes glittered as I looked at Troy, aching to make him mine. My beloved nodded at Kalen, giving the Shaman the cue to continue.

  “We are all gathered to witness the long-awaited union of our blessed Queen and Champion,” he announced. “While the Drikkende wished that our finest battle maiden could be banished to the void, she proved that her will was too strong for such sabotage to last.”

  I blushed at the theatrics. It was all true, but it certainly wasn’t the officiation I was used to during my stint in the human world.

  “And how was she able to accomplish this? When even the most gifted clans bowed to the cruel powers of the worst demons our continent has ever known?” Kalen asked. “Her true essence always held onto hope, waiting to reemerge when the Drikkende least expected this. She even crossed dimensions, becoming another creature entirely to outwit her foes.”

  I saw tears well up in everyone’s eyes, all bearing the trademark slitted irises of true dragons. For a moment, I saw through a glossy haze, too. I then collected myself, sighing softly. I had to keep standing even though my knees were weak. My clan members expected me to. Troy smirked as if reading my mind. I sensed he had to remain stoic, too, for the sake of appearances.

  Kalen glanced out of the corner of his eye. I could tell that he also had a sense of humor but didn’t want to break the spell of our wedding. Everyone was waiting with bated breath and didn’t really see this as a joke. I couldn’t blame them, seeing that legends had foretold that this very moment would restore the entire clan’s magic.

  “Let us not forget the heroism of Troy. He has gone by many names centuries ago before he was lost in oblivion,” Kalen explained. “In every incarnation, he served his Queen with unquestionable devotion. He is an inspiration to us all, a soldier that could not be broken. He stands before us today, ready to receive his love of an eternity. His search is complete.”

  At that, I melted into a sentimental trance. What started off as over the top storytelling turned into a truth that seared my soul. Not only did this represent the end of our quest as Fated Mates, but we were also healing our broken civilization.

  “Join me in honoring this enchanted journey,” our Shaman called out to everyone. “Lady Rosalind and Champion Troy, please exchange rings so that all you are promised to each other under the laws of our realm and our ancestors.”

  My breath was caught in my chest, our future becoming more real to me. Troy, on the other hand, seemed perfectly composed. I was still adjusting to who I truly was, while my beloved was completely at ease with the idea of draconic traditions. His eyes glowed with purpose, and he opened his hand to reveal an onyx encrusted ring. Even though I was overwhelmed, I was also ready. I extended one arm, turning over my other. A glimmering emerald ring was balanced on my palm. Each of us carried a symbol of our royal status and legendary power, prepared to give a part of ourselves to the other.

  “My Queen Zielona, my warrior goddess, my divine blessing,” Troy began. “Rosalind in this lifetime, I pledge my allegiance and undying love to you for this incarnation and every one that follows. Will you take this ring to represent a companionship with no end and bind yourself to me as my Fated Mate?”

  My shaking arms finally steadied themselves. His words had a healing effect, chasing away any nerves. I tilted my head, then broke into a smile and unfiltered laughter.

  “I do,” I exclaimed. Sparkling with ecstasy, I held out my hand out to accept his ring. He grinned and slid it onto my finger, placing a tender kiss on my forehead.

  I was glad I regained my voice because it was my turn for vows. “My fearless Champion, my valiant consort, my sought after paramour,” I returned. “Troy, in this lifetime, I will fight by your side and offer my heart to you until death and beyond. Will you join me in our immortal journey as my F
ated Mate?”

  “Always, my treasure,” he promised. I blinked back tears and drew him into a passionate kiss, unafraid of all the eyes on us.

  I then claimed Troy as mine, declaring we were officially wed with radiant emeralds.

  32

  Rose

  The very moment that Troy and I exchanged rings and kissed before our comrades, we could all feel our ancestral curse shatter like a supernova. A weight was lifted from all of our shoulders, and our renewed strength left us sure that we’d float into the skies.

  The morning that followed, as the sun broke into the stronghold, our prospects were even brighter. When Troy and I woke up from our marital bed, our heightened stamina and dexterity were clear to us. Although we already knew we were wildly attracted to each other before, our connection was white-hot as Fated Mates. We quickly set to work, effortlessly making love for over a dozen times, not even requiring a crumb of food between bouts. The only incentive that could lure us out of this perfect bliss was to reap revenge. Apparently, part of being a dragon was a hunger for settling a score and for demanding justice. We promised to protect our own and the realm, and so we leapt out of our carnal retreat.

  We weren’t the only ones graced with supernatural abilities, or more accurately, the magic that was our birthright. As we walked hand in hand to the training grounds, our kinfolk were practicing their swordplay so gracefully that their motions looked like a dance. The ritual enchanted me, a flurry of blades and metallic clamor. I nodded respectfully to greet them. Even immersed in their routine, they pulled themselves out immediately. It was as though they could sense my presence as their Queen. They all bowed in synchronicity. I was in awe of their loyalty, sure that they would protect me at all costs. I could confidently say that I’d return the favor.

  Like both Troy and myself, each member of the clan was clad in ceremonial robes. They were adorned in intricate designs with varying shades and motifs representing their draconic abilities. I considered how we were all a piece of living art, fit for a tapestry featuring legendary warriors. I received another flash of a vision, seeing this very artifact hanging above a hearth. Generations years from now would celebrate in a tavern, toasting goblets to a Jörmungandr victory and a favorite tale. One, in fact, recorded in treasured history books read by all.

  I smiled warmly at Nadine after I blinked back to reality. I saw that she was dressed like the rest of the clan, her robe dappled with sky blue orchids. She stood by Harlin’s side, but instead of looking like a delicate woman, she was just as fierce, a rapier sheathed by her hip. At the Chieftain’s signal, she walked to a marble pillar topped by a velvet cushion. On it laid two gorgeous cutlasses of Damascus steel, their hilts bearing our traditional colors. She picked it up, balancing it on her palms. When she approached us, she knelt down, presenting our new weapons.

  She must have designed these herself, all in the span of a single evening. This was enough proof for me that Kalen’s prediction that my spirit bonding with Troy would heal the entire realm. This seamstress with blacksmithing under her belt who struggled to create a single gown in months had now created weapons fit for war.

  “My Queen,” she began, her voice deeply respectful and her grey eyes stony, hardened by her important mission. “My Liege. I am honored to bestow these blades upon you so that you may avenge all tribes of these lands.”

  “We thank you, blessed Crafter,” Troy announced and took his sword from her, grasping its hilt and holding it earthward, a neutral position rather than battle-ready. He took the words right out of my mouth. I also agreed that she was so much more than an everyday seamstress.

  I placed my hand on her shoulder, watching as a yellow aura emanated from Nadine. Despite her formal demeanor, she was clearly ecstatic to have access to her powers. I was happy on her behalf and excited about what she would offer our clan in the crusades to come.

  “These are absolutely beautiful,” I complimented her. “As stunning as they are deadly.”

  While that might have sounded odd in any other situation, these were just the words she wanted to hear. Nadine glanced over at Harlin, who grinned with pride. After I took my own blade, I gently lifted her back up by her wrist. By doing so, I encouraged her to stand and see me as her equal.

  “Please join me in hailing our official Crafter and cherished weaponsmith,” I raised my voice to address my clan. “She is a fine druid, but as of today, I will have everyone acknowledge her as a true maiden of the Jörmungandr. I have complete confidence that she, along with us all, will lead our tribe to victory.”

  I then pointed the tip of my sword towards the sky, inviting Troy and my spirit kin to follow suit. Inhaling softly, I drew upon my reserve of enchantment, ready to carry out the bonding rite I planned. Following our wedding, I knew I needed to make the most of the potent energy that my Fated Mate and I generated together. Now was the peak moment to recognize who we all really were. I concentrated on making my voice boom, intent on showing how unafraid I was.

  “We have lifted our ancestral curse,” I bellowed. “By Troy and I finding one another after fighting through oblivion, we have shown that any obstacle can be surmounted. Our spirit bonding will fortify us all, but the work is not done yet.”

  Troy tilted his head, continuing where I left off. “Comrades, let us bear who we truly are without shame. We are dragons to the very core, and we will cast the Drikkende back to the void where they belong!”

  He ended with a valiant promise, his eyes blazing with a passion for justice. “Every individual who has been slighted or stolen from will be protected! Let us live out our true purpose! We shall never hide again. Now prove this to me, my Champions!”

  Everyone gathered cheered, their voices evolving into one great howl. Faces transformed into regal snouts, flesh hardened with all manner of scales, and wings fanned out from backs. Ceremonial robes fluttered up like dandelion seeds, swept away by the wind. We took off into the skies in our full draconic forms, winding through the air to relish in what we’d reclaimed.

  In the weeks that followed, after martial drills, focused studying of the arcane, and drawn-out discussions about the best way to defeat the Drikkende, Troy and I both decided that the time to execute our plan had arrived.

  Our first course of action was to hold our cards tightly to our chests. The demons that wanted to deny us of our powers still believed we were helpless, all brute strength and no will or wit. We would play the roles that our foes expected of us, allowing them to believe they had the upper hand. Of course, we would charge with swords and shields, our standard approach. All of our initial mana would be used to come across as unturned, blocked off from our ancestry and doomed to roam as inferiors to the Drikkende.

  Kalen guided a flock of ravens to all the tribes and nations that were tormented and drained. His winged messengers were disguised as common songbirds. They carried scrolls that would only reveal themselves to the intended readers and then combust into dust.

  We stressed to all of the innocents in our realm that they must act as they always did. While we promised to handle their oppressors, we insisted that they not try to join us. Kalen explained that the risks would be too high and that the Drikkende would grow too suspicious. If our enemies strung together the signs, then they could foil our strategy.

  Instead, only the Jörmungandr clan would brave the trek to the Drikkende’s base. We would march to the volcanic mountain that marked the demons’ infernal abyss, ready to throw down the gauntlet. This wouldn’t inspire their distrust. Us warriors were a stubborn lot, ready to rage and rebel on a whim. They would consider this an easy fight. One that could be mastered quickly.

  How wrong they were.

  I still smile when I reflect on the clash with the Drikkende. It was a truly unusual struggle, one that I hadn’t come across even in all of the books that I pored through in many lifetimes. We performed illusionary magic at every turn, pretending to be wounded by the spells of our enemies. Our false bruises and blood gave exactly
the false sense of confidence we required.

  After days of combat, maybe even weeks, we defied the Drikkende while their mana slowly but surely depleted. Troy performed a disorientation spell, tricking the demons into losing track of time. This way, they would be unaware of our draconic endurance. They would fall into our trap, truly believing that it was inevitable for us to tire and waste away. After all, this was how they accomplished their cruelties, bleeding others dry when they were at their lowest.

  Motivated by karmic justice, I went in for the kill, the one to last for ages and more. I walked up to the fore, leaving myself open to be attacked and willing to put myself in harm’s way for my kin. I did not reveal that I was Queen Zielona yet, fearing that the Drikkende would steal all that I’d just recovered. Instead, I presented myself as a victim, a grunt soldier that they wouldn’t really need to trouble themselves with. This caused them to overlook me entirely while I used all my mana to tap into the wishes and resentments of tribes across the continent. I shut my eyes, pinpointing all of the stolen powers that stirred within the soulless demons. Only by thriving off of the gifts of others were these infernal creatures able to keep themselves alive.

  Once I regained the array of enchantments, I sensed that the Drikkende were emptied and nearing death. I snapped my fingers, calling out to the branches of magic and demanding them to disperse.

  “I order that all sorcery that has been reclaimed be sent back to their places of origin at once!” I shouted, sweeping my arm through the air.

  As cords of magic slithered out of sight, the leader of the Drikkende looked back at me with empty eyes. I raised an eyebrow and cocked my head to the side. I was expecting more resistance. With all energy sapped from them, they seemed to serve no function. Seeing that they were just spiritless chaos from the Abyss, I didn’t feel sorry about annihilating them.