Married to the Dragon

by Selina Coffey

  “And so he hides away here,” Ellieth said softly.

  “He was seeking our help before the wedding brought him back to Elfhame,” the monk told her.

  “And so he returned.” Ellieth looked down at her plate, miserable. When her husband had needed her understanding, she had followed him into the one place he could be safe.

  “Yes. Now, we have seen that the curse is at its worst when he is in the grip of emotion,” the monk said softly. “Anger, fear…” His eyes met hers wryly. “… or desire.”

  It was the last piece of the puzzle. Everything fell into place, and Ellieth felt her mouth open in a little O of surprise. Savin had begged her to go, not because she disgusted him… but precisely for the opposite reason.

  “I have to find him,” Ellieth whispered. “Or… no, that’s a horrible idea. Is it? I have to apologize.”

  “I think he would understand that your intentions were not to hurt him,” the monk opined. “He will be back soon enough.”

  “When, do you think?”

  “It may be some time. But I think it would be wise for you to remain here. After all, it does no harm to the court to think that you are spending quiet time with your husband. And it would do you some good, I think.”

  His grasp of the court system was surprisingly astute, and Ellieth raised an eyebrow. Her curiosity, however, was not assuaged.

  “Why will it be so long?”

  “That, I am not at liberty to say.”

  He looked away, toward the distant mountains that rose beyond the borders of the Elven kingdom, dwarfing even the snow-capped peaks on which E’lessiell sat.

  “Please know that I wish only what is best for His Highness,” Ellieth said tentatively. “If we are to spend the rest of our lives together…” Her voice trailed away. “Please, tell me that he will not be harmed by this curse.”

  “No, although he must be careful not to be harmed by his own people.”

  “He’s the dragon that’s been seen in the valley,” Ellieth breathed.

  “And the war, previously beginning to wind down, came once again to the forefront of everyone’s mind… while the heir to the throne withdrew from peace talks and neglected his duties.” The monk’s voice was soft. Too soft.

  “What are you suggesting?” Ellieth asked him slowly.

  “I am suggesting that this is a condition unlike any we have seen before. The intelligent races do not often shape shift, and those conditions have almost always become the stuff of legend. If this is natural, then why does it strike only now? Why does it strike between two races at war, and why at the crown Prince of one of them?” He looked over at her. “It is a great deal too convenient for my tastes.”

  “Do you think that the dragonkin seek to destabilize Elfhame?” Ellieth frowned at him.

  “What do the dragonkin have to gain from this?”

  “A weakened enemy, and…”

  “By one warrior? In a war they themselves sued to end?”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.” Ellieth looked down at her lap. She was just taking another bite of food when the answer hit her. “Dorel?”

  “A quick study, I see.”

  “No, it can’t be Dorel,” Ellieth told him. “Dorel is kind; he’s sweet, he’s…”

  “The sort of person who could pull this off without anyone suspecting what he had done. Which is precisely what he needs if he’s to take power. He knows his father is honorable to a fault. He’d never inherit if there were… suspicions.”

  “So, what, he’s planning for his brother to be shot down, and…”

  “And he knew what Savin would do if he could reach the dragon court,” the monk murmured. “After all these years… true negotiations at last.”

  “Savin’s gone to the dragon court.” Ellieth’s mouth dropped open. “He has, hasn’t he? He’s going to ask for peace.”

  “Which of course, by a recent order, I would bet anything Dorel endorsed… would be treason to Elfhame.”

  “Oh, my God.” Ellieth stood, running her hands through her hair.

  “I have to warn him.”

  “My lady, the court of the dragons cannot be reached without wings.”

  “They’re expecting an army, aren’t they? They’ll see one rider and wonder— enough, maybe, to grant me an audience if Savin is there.”

  “Or they might kill you outright.” His face was unreadable. “Or you might be convicted of treason yourself.”

  “What does it matter?” Ellieth asked impatiently. She stopped, took a deep breath. “I know it matters,” she said finally. “But he’s… he’s alone. And if I let him die, and let Dorel do this; I’ll never forgive myself.”

  “So you, also, believe it was the younger son?”

  “It’s too perfect not to be him. He wanted me to stay at Elfhame,” Ellieth said furiously. “He was so understanding, and he seemed like he was so kind, so helpful— but every word he spoke only made me more ashamed.” She paused, then added grudgingly, “It was very well done. I suppose I should congratulate him.”

  “Your Highness, the Prince asked that we keep you safe. Away from him.”

  “You told me yourself, he’s no danger.” Ellieth considered. “And he wants to stop the war now. I should help. It’s my duty to help. That, of all the things I can do, will help us gain the loyalty of the Elves.” Her cheeks flushed as the Elven man looked at her, but eventually he nodded.

  “I see.”

  And so it was that Ellieth set out, the midnight air cloaking her as she rode out of the Elven lands on a dark horse, her hair covered and her face bent to hide it from any Elven patrols that might guard the borders. The monk’s whispered blessing rang in her ears, chilling her: Your Highness, it would be remiss of me to pretend that I believe this can succeed. But may any and all deities watch over you, and may luck guide your footsteps.

  Chapter Five

  Roars echoed in Ellieth’s ears, and she staggered, pressing her hands against the sides of her head. She was terrified, wind-burned and dizzy, awed from her trip up the mountainside.

  “A human?” The dragon on guard had asked her. It sounded amused.

  “I’m here with the black dragon,” Ellieth had said, her fingers balled into fists. There was no going back— her horse had bucked her and bolted as soon as the dragon uncoiled itself from the rocks at the base of the mountain.

  “Oh? The one who smells of… Elves?” It leaned close. “You smell of Elves, too. So the rumors are true: the Elves and the Humans join forces against us.”

  “They need not,” Ellieth said, as bravely as she could. “The war could be ended by peaceful means.”

  “The black dragon said the same.” And before she could say another word, it snatched her up in its talons and began to climb, wind whistling past and the air growing ever colder.

  “Ellieth?” A black dragon. Savin. Its head swung around to her, and its voice was low and gravelly.

  “I came to warn you,” Ellieth told him. “Your brother… the monks think he has done this to you.”

  “I thought as much.” Savin bared his teeth in what passed for a dragon’s smile. “Dorel is not quite as clever as he thinks he is.”

  “You knew? Savin, why are you here?”

  “Because he wishes for peace.” The words came from a dragon so pale and still; Ellieth had mistaken her for a statue. Gold glimmered at the edges of her scales, and her eyes were the same opaque black as Savin’s. Her mind reached out, a brush against Ellieth’s own. “As do you, I think… but the thoughts of humans are strange to me.”

  “I do wish for peace.” Ellieth tried to will her muscles to move forward, but could not bring herself to do so. Claws, her mind insisted. Fangs.

  “It is quite safe, young one. I will not harm you.”

  Ellieth found the courage to place one foot in front of the other, walking quietly with the eyes of the court upon her until she could stand at Savin’s side. Her hand reached out tentatively, and she laid it upon his flank;
the muscles shivered beneath her touch, and a wing encircled her protectively.

  “This is the human you have married?” The Queen’s voice was amused. “She is brave. A fine mate.”

  “Yes.”

  It occurred to Ellieth that they were speaking in the human tongue for her sake alone.

  “Have you come to an accord?”

  “There is much to decide yet,” Savin told her. “And my father must agree. Perhaps yours as well. But I will put the case to him, and—”

  “And be executed for treason,” a new voice said. It was a low drawl, familiar, and Ellieth felt her hands clench as she turned.

  “Hello, Dorel.”

  He jerked backwards at the sight of her, and his men— ten Elves, dressed in the deep blue uniform of the most elite soldiers— raised their weapons. A magical portal swirled behind them, a way up the mountain Ellieth could only envy.

  “Ellieth?” He was attired in armor now, and Ellieth thought it suited him well— better than the clothing of velvet and doeskin he had worn in the court. How had she not seen his duplicity at once? He tried to smile. “Has my brother kidnapped you? Have no fear, Your Highness. Come here and you shall be safe.”

  Savin growled, low in his throat.

  “You seem strangely unsurprised to find him in this state,” Ellieth observed. She did not move from Savin’s side. “Perhaps you were only waiting for the black dragon to arrive, and then… pretend to find evidence of treason?”

  “There is nothing to pretend,” Dorel said. He was smiling, a truly cold smile, and his crossbow was still trained on Savin. “Bargaining with the enemy, most particularly without our father present, is a grievous offense.”

  “An offense you lured him to commit,” Ellieth said heatedly. Anger was beginning to speed her heart. She could feel herself flush, all the more so when Dorel smiled.

  “You truly are exquisite, my dear. Come here to me. We need speak nothing more of these wild accusations— I will forgive them. And when Savin is cut down in his treachery, I will speak to my father on your behalf. You shall have an Elven husband, Ellieth, do not fear.” His gaze traveled over her face, her body, as if he would possess her— as if he would take her there on the floor of the dragons’ court, in full view of all of them.

  “Do not look at me so.” Ellieth stepped back, shocked, and Savin’s growl resonated in her bones.

  “You want everything that is mine,” he hissed at his brother. His tail lashed and his claws ground into the rock of the floor, creating new gouges over the thousands that already scored the surface. “You have always wanted whatever was mine. You were never content to be second.”

  “Would you be?” Dorel snapped back. “Always the second-best horse, the second-best suit, the second-best bride. Never the throne. And now I will have it all. You know, brother— it did not have to be this way. You did not have to come here.”

  “If it had not been this, it would have been something else. Do you truly believe you would have stopped here?” Savin urged Ellieth to one side and began to pace, circling so that Dorel was forced to turn, putting his back to the dragon queen. “And this— this I can be proud of. What, did you hope to prove yourself to our father in war? How many must die for your ambition, brother?”

  “Just you, I think.” Dorel’s face twisted, and there was the click of an arrow being locked into place.

  “Dorel, please!” Ellieth heard her own voice ring out. “Do you really think you can get away with this? Take your brother’s place, be his heir, take everything that belonged to him?” She squared her shoulders. “Did you think I would never have discovered what you did?”

  “Yes,” Dorel spit. “You would never have known anything. If you’d just stayed in Elfhame where you belonged, we could have been married when I returned. You would have been happy, would you not? Not having Savin, so cold, so perfect. But instead; me. You know you liked me better. You cannot deny it.”

  “I did not! I was glad of your kindness when I thought Savin despised me, nothing more.”

  “You’re just like him.” Dorel raised one eyebrow. “You don’t know when to shut up, either.”

  “This is between us.” Savin’s tail lashed.

  “Is it? I don’t think so. Her Highness must make a choice: to come home with me while I lie to our father on her behalf and tell him that she was abducted, that she is blameless… or to stay at your side, and die here— a terrible choice, really, my dear. You will have destroyed the alliance that kept your people safe. This is aiding and abetting my father’s enemies.”

  Fear gripped her. If Dorel won, if Savin was killed…

  She could see it now, the Elven mages wielding bolts of arcane energy, laying siege to human towns, turning the citizens into mindless slaves. She had heard the stories. And Dorel would do it, too— he would do it to spite her.

  Suddenly, she felt a rush of courage. He would not kill her, for then, whom would he lord over in his victory? He wanted a beaten down slave, a woman broken by his will. So desperate was he to have anything that Savin had touched, that he would keep Ellieth alive… under threat of death, if need be. And that gave her an idea.

  Her fingers, hidden by the black wings, patted gently against Savin’s side. Please trust me, she pleaded silently. He must trust her.

  “I’ll come back with you.” She walked around Savin’s side, holding her hands out in surrender.

  “You will?” His eyebrows raised.

  Careful. Don’t make it too easy.

  “I can’t…” Ellieth tried to feign tears, blinking and looking down. “I can’t let you hurt my family. Please, Dorel.”

  Behind her, the growl started again, low and vicious.

  Please trust me, Savin.

  “Why should I believe you?” Dorel asked her.

  Ellieth walked closer, hardly breathing in her terror. The crossbow was still trained at her heart. One false move…

  “You know I would do anything for my sister,” she whispered, in a flash of inspiration. Give him a bargaining chip. Let him think he can control you. And she saw the lust in his eyes, cruelty flaring at the thought of another beauty in his power. He knew, as Ellieth did, that Allina would say the same thing: I would do anything for my sister.

  “Anything?” He asked thickly, and she could feel his gaze on her; her throat, her shoulders, and her hair in its mesh caul.

  “Anything,” she whispered passionately.

  It was enough. As his eyes darkened with lust, Ellieth’s hand came up, weighted with a rock from the floor. Her hand met his temple with jarring force, and he fell to the floor with a thud. Ellieth snatched up his crossbow, pointing it at the warriors he had brought, and felt her stomach drop with terror. There were ten of them— and she had just killed their leader.

  The dragon queen’s roar deafened them all. The soldiers staggered, running for the magical portal, and Ellieth scrambled for the shelter of Savin’s wings. When the echoes died away, there was only a throaty laugh.

  “Ah, how they run.” The queen’s voice was low, amused. “And how fiercely you humans fight! You may be small, human, but I would not test my soldiers against yours. Princeling, tell your king that I will come myself to bargain with him, if he will treat with me in good faith. If he wishes it, he need only shine a beacon from the towers of Elfhame, and I will come.”

  “Your Majesty.” Savin nodded.

  “And you, I think, should return with one of my guards. Now that your brother is dead, the curse on you is beginning to lift.” The queen eyed Savin impassively. “And I think it would not do for the King’s second son to die in my court, and his first to fall from the mountaintop.”

  She laughed again, and Ellieth could only assume that this was what passed for a joke amongst dragonkin.

  “I shall see you soon, Elf. And you, Human.”

  Chapter Six

  “Ellieth?”

  “Over here.” Ellieth lifted her head from the rocks and gave a little sigh of contentment.
The water of the hot springs had eased the ache in her muscles, and she had spent the past half hour watching steam curl into the frosty air of E’lessiell.

  A splash told her that Savin had joined her in the pool, and a moment later she made out his form. He waded over to her, the opaque water setting off his blue skin perfectly, and gave a groan as he settled down beside her.

  “Relaxing?”

  “Yes. This place is almost perfect you know. I’ve never been somewhere so peaceful. And the food…”

  “Yes. Since they stole our cook, if I want a decent meal, I must come here. I’ll make them sorry for that.” But she heard a laugh in his voice.

  “And how are you?” She asked him, opening her eyes to watch as the tension in his shoulders eased, and the water lapped at his skin.

  “The messages are sent,” he said, his head tipped back and his eyes closed. She could see grief in the set of his face. “And Dorel’s body,” he added quietly.

  “Savin…”

  “No.” He opened his eyes. “Do not apologize. He wanted to kill me. He wanted to make you a slave. There is no reason to be sad for what you did.”

  “And yet you are sad,” Ellieth whispered.

  “He was my brother.” Savin looked away. “I saw what he was becoming, and I… closed my eyes to it. Do you know how many chances I had to confront him? I knew it was him from the start, cursing me. He was always gifted at magic, and he could never resist showing his work. He made sure I knew who it was.”

  “Why did you not tell your father what was going on?”

  “I am not a child.” He sounded affronted. “I can fight my own battles.”

  Ellieth settled back, frowning, and heard a heavy sigh.

  “That wasn’t it,” he admitted. “I lied to myself. I told myself it would never get this far.” He turned his head to look out over the mountain peaks. The day was clear, sunlight sparkling on the sharp lines of snow and ice against the crisp blue sky.

  Unexpectedly, as Ellieth watched, he gave a chuckle, and his head turned back to her. “What would I have done if you weren’t there, Ellieth?”