To the Victor

by Samantha M. Derr

  It took a few seconds to get a reply, but then—

  "I give," Edelweiss said.

  It sounded like there were tears in her voice.

  May shuddered, stepping back and pulling the sword free. "Sorry. It went deeper this time."

  "That's what we're doing here," Edelweiss said, voice wobbling. "Foolish kitten. Idiot girl. We're fighting. You'll push that as deep as it needs to go, won't you?"

  "No deeper," May said. "I promise. I want you to come back with me."

  "Me," Edelweiss said, and laughed, a shaking sound. "The princess, you mean."

  "And you're her guardian," May said. "I thought I made it clear that you were welcome to come with us already. You're obviously precious to her. I'm not going to take you from her, or her from you."

  Edelweiss said, sulky, "I thought you'd change your mind if you fought me."

  "And I told you already that you're a stupid lizard," May said. "Let me treat your injury."

  Her blood was so red. It wasn't exactly a surprise—she'd seen it the day before, and besides, most lizards had red blood—but there was something evocative about it, too like her own. Too human. Maybe it was way it had accompanied that scream, maybe something else. May thought it was probably something else.

  "I told you yesterday," Edelweiss said. "I'll treat it inside."

  May said, "You did a lousy job of that." She gestured at the wound. "I mean, sure, I'd have aimed there anyway, but it was left open."

  "I can't regrow scales so easily," Edelweiss muttered. "They're a part of me."

  "Let me," May repeated, and this time, Edelweiss did.

  *~*~*

  After May had done her best to care for the wound—putting ointment on, packing it with gauze, and then wrapping it with more—she hoped that things might get back to normal. It was naive to think, though, and she wasn't surprised when Edelweiss pulled away almost immediately on May finishing.

  But Edelweiss didn't go up the tower right away, stopping when she had wrapped the tower once. "Tomorrow we end this," she said. "You'll go after the wound a third time, I'm sure."

  "You don't have many weaknesses," May noted. "You've got the advantage of strength, and mass, and those claws and teeth, and fire—though I feel like the fire must be hard for to breathe, since you conserve your use of it."

  "So observant, kitten."

  May smiled, but knew it didn't reach her eyes. "I'm fighting with just my sword and shield," she said. "I could make myself a rough spear, but it wouldn't be well-made and wouldn't stand up to your mass. I could use my crossbow, but you'd get close too quickly for it to be effective. So I need to take advantage of what I can."

  "Today was the last time I'll lose to you," Edelweiss said, and it sounded like a vow. "If you win tomorrow, you will choose whether to kill me or let me live. And you've already told me what your choice will be, since you want me to be a pet of the court."

  "I have," May agreed, a little embarrassed. "Though I doubt you'd be anyone's pet."

  "If I win, I'll have the same choice to make," Edelweiss said. "If I kill you, I'll know it's done with. If I let you live, you might strike at me while I'm unprepared."

  "I would never," May protested.

  "Shame will drive many choices," Edelweiss said. "I want to believe in you, May, but if I win, I will most likely kill you. If you wish, you can walk away tonight."

  May thought about it, a faint shiver running through her. She was tired, and fighting to subdue an opponent who was fighting to kill... it could tip the scales in Edelweiss's favor, certainly.

  But she shook her head again. "If you want to kill me, you can kill me," she said finally, meeting Edelweiss's silver eyes and smiling. "Call me stupid, but I want to see this through. Otherwise everything I've said in the last week has just been a lie, and I hate thinking I'm that sort of person."

  "I will call you stupid," Edelweiss said. "It's the last thing you'll hear from me."

  She scuttled up the tower at that, content to have got in the last word.

  May sighed, still smiling.

  *~*~*

  That night, she dreamed of that terrible, too-human shriek.

  *~*~*

  They met at the base of the tower. May was calm—much calmer than she'd been the day before. She would fight her best, and would fight to win with no losses and no regrets. If she lost, she would accept it.

  It was that simple.

  "Any last words?" Edelweiss asked her, back to her usual smug, sly tone.

  "Ask me that if you defeat me," May said, and lifted her sword in a salute. She shifted her stance, hefting her shield. Tucking most of her body behind it, she kept her sword at the ready. "Let's fight, lizard."

  Edelweiss spat a ball of fire at her.

  May wasn't expecting it so soon, and took the brunt of it on her shield before it cleared. She side-stepped at once, and a second ball of fire hit the ground where she'd been standing almost immediately.

  So, she thought with grim amusement, Edelweiss was trying to prove her wrong. That just figured.

  But that was fine. She was still calm. The panic of having to fight a friend, or whatever it was that she and Edelweiss had become, had faded.

  Not because she was more prepared, not really.

  But this determination to pick a fire attack, just because May had thought it was one that was difficult for her, was just so like Edelweiss.

  Being relaxed made it easier to dodge, and since May didn't think she'd been wrong that it was harder for Edelweiss to do the fireballs, let alone for an extended period, she decided that the best option was to avoid the blasts and wait for Edelweiss to tire herself out.

  She focused on dodging and weaving rather than trying to get in and attack, and it kept her own stamina high. With only one goal in mind, she had less wasted movement, and there was a much lower risk that she'd make a mistake while trying to beat Edelweiss down.

  But just as she began to be sure that Edelweiss was slowing down and starting to show her fatigue, she realized another knight had arrived.

  May hadn't noticed him right away. When she finally caught sight of him hiding between the shadows of the trees, he must have been there long enough to have seen how she was keeping a distance between herself and Edelweiss.

  Anger rushed back in.

  It had stayed away so completely during the time she'd spent with Edelweiss that she'd almost forgotten the feel of it. But now it returned like an unwelcome enemy, a bitter taste in her mouth, the ash in her clenched stomach flaring into embers.

  He noticed her looking, and so did Edelweiss—the dragon's head swiveled to look at him, and, for a moment, combat stopped.

  It was clear to the other knight that he could no longer hide. "What ho, brave maiden knight," he called, stepping forward. "While I hate to interrupt, could it be that you are Ismay the Lioness?"

  The respect in his tone stunned her into a moment of silence. Somewhat disbelieving, she adjusted her grip on her shield as she glanced between him and the now-wary Edelweiss, then inclined her head. "I am," she said.

  "I have heard of your deeds," he said, and bowed back, more deeply than she had. "Even outside this country's borders, your reputation precedes you. The lady knight who captured a hellhound and has rescued fairy maidens—I shouldn't be surprised to find you fighting the dragon whom I came to defeat."

  Edelweiss was hunkered down, watching them both cautiously, so May allowed herself to straighten a little more. "Thank you for the kindness, friend knight, but I'll have to ask you to leave me to it."

  The knight inclined his head again. "I understand, and would not wish to try to sully your honor by stealing your kill," he said. "But I notice you are forced to keep your distance. If we both fight the beast, its attention will be split and you will be able to get the win more quickly. It would be my honor to fight at your side. I would like that better than the glory of a win alone."

  Her breath caught in her chest, lungs aching. Longing and rage surged i
n equal amounts, desire for recognition battling inside her with revulsion at the offer. "I'm not going to kill this dragon," she said roughly. "Move along."

  "What?" The knight's brows rose. "Whyever not?"

  "The dragon is an honorable opponent whom I wish to defeat honorably and let live, as I would another knight with whom I have no personal quarrel," she said pointedly. "Had I reasons to wish her slain, that would be another situation. But I care for her and her future. I will defeat her without having her death on my hands."

  May could see the moment that excitement turned to disgust in his eyes. "Ah," he said. "What womanly sentiment."

  Rage won. She turned toward him completely, shield hand fisting as she put herself between him and Edelweiss. "How dare—" she began.

  But he wasn't there. He'd dissolved into smoke, illusion rather than flesh and blood. As she stared, trying to understand what was happening, a weight hit her in the spine, flinging her to the ground.

  She rolled with the blow, but wasn't able to escape. It just meant she was facing Edelweiss when she was pinned down by the dragon's foremost legs as she held May flat, that large head with its toothy maw lowering. "Got you, kitten," Edelweiss murmured softly, smug.

  And all at once, May understood.

  She understood what the first challenges had been leading to. She understood how she'd explained all her deeds so the dragon would be able to create a knight who would believably know her reputation. She understood that in the second challenge, when she'd talked about her morals and her fears, her past and her doubts and how she was treated and how she wished she'd be treated, she'd created in Edelweiss's mind the ideal personality to get to her. Someone who would know of her, respect her deeds, treat her as she deserved. Someone who would nevertheless rub her morals so wrong that she would refuse him, someone whose resulting disgust would make her lose her temper and put her guard down.

  Edelweiss had probably only fought normally the first two days to lull May into a pattern. And because she'd told May before that dragons couldn't use illusions—that it was the realm of enchantresses and wizards only—May'd had no reason to suspect a thing.

  May slowly let out her breath. She should be angry at this, she thought. More angry than she'd been at the 'knight.'

  But instead she felt resigned. Almost proud, in a very strange way.

  "Well played, lizard," she said softly. "And so you get your kill and your princess remains safe. Go ahead."

  For a long moment, Edelweiss just stared down at her, silver eyes hard to read, grimacing smile just a baring of her teeth.

  "No," Edelweiss said. "You won completely. I surrender."

  And she changed.

  Her body dissolved, scales sliding around above May, limbs lengthening, hair tumbling down. The woman who was left behind was so pale it looked like she hadn't seen the sun for years, and had black hair down to her ankles. A black and silver snakeskin dress hugged her curves as one bare foot still pressed down on May's chest-plate.

  "And I'm not a lizard, kitten," the enchantress said, smiling, the light glittering oddly in her narrow silver eyes.

  *~*~*

  May's shock was complete enough to render the next few minutes a confusing blur. Edelweiss helped her to her feet with human hands, brushed the dirt off her, inquired about her injuries. She faintly remembered answering Edelweiss's questions, following her to her tower where a door magically opened in the side, and thumping up the stairs after her to a small but cozy room high up. It was unoccupied but for the two of them, with a bed in the corner made of spun gold, some sort of magical workbench against a wall, and a cauldron sitting in the center of the room.

  Finally May's senses wrapped themselves back up into some semblance of order. "Wait," she said. "What?"

  "I said, you might as well take your armor off," Edelweiss said, quirking a fine black blow. "Since you won the challenge, you're not going to be fighting any more tonight, and it can't be comfortable enough to want to keep it on. Also, you seem to be having trouble breathing?"

  It was absolutely Edelweiss's normal voice, but toned down to a human volume.

  "You didn't lie about dragons not doing magic," May yelped. "You aren't a dragon!"

  "Well-identified," Edelweiss praised in gentle mockery. "And you didn't lie about not wanting to kill me, or about how doing the right thing was more important to you than pure glory. So we're both rather impressed with each other!"

  May sat down on Edelweiss's bed. Her gorget wasn't actually constricting her breathing, but it felt like it must be, so she reached up and fumbled the clasps open. "You're the princess."

  "Also yes," Edelweiss said. "A princess and an enchantress. And not actually a dragon, except when I choose to be. Which has been always when talking to anybody for the last two hundred years, so congratulations on this."

  "Two hundred years," May wheezed.

  Edelweiss smirked at her, an expression that so perfectly matched the tone that May had often heard from the dragon that May's heart, weirdly, hurt. "Are you just going to keep pointing out the obvious, kitten?"

  "It's not obvious, lizard!" May retorted, almost dizzy with understanding. "None of this was obvious!"

  Edelweiss burst out laughing at that—then abruptly clutched her side, leaning against her workbench. "No," she said, with sudden strain. "I suppose it wouldn't be."

  It was on her left side, between her bosom and her hip. For a moment, May didn't understand—and then realization dawned. "The spear wound."

  "You didn't do any lasting damage," Edelweiss assured her. "But it does hurt. And the bandages don't really transfer between forms."

  "Let me see," May said. She quickly unbuckled the rest of her armor, dropping it to the side, and pulled her mail shirt off. "I can rip some of my clothes for bandages—"

  "I have bandages," Edelweiss said, looking at her a little oddly. "No need to tear anything."

  Just as well, since she still had her padded clothing to get through. She relaxed a little. "Let me see," she said again.

  For a moment, Edelweiss didn't move. Then she reached up behind herself awkwardly, unlacing her snakeskin dress, and shrugged it off her shoulders to let it hang off her waist.

  May was understandably distracted at that. The breast-bag undergarment that Edelweiss was wearing was thin and left little to the imagination, and the line of her naked stomach was almost unbelievably soft-looking. But her distraction was brief before her gaze was dragged down to the wound, stitched—surely by Edelweiss herself—and seeping clear fluid.

  At least it wasn't bleeding, and did seem to be healing. May said, softly, "I was the one who did that, so let me bandage it. I ask a third time, let me do it properly this time. Please."

  "If you wish, May," Edelweiss said, softly. She searched around on her work desk, then came over with a roll of bandage.

  May bowed her head, keeping her eyes firmly on the skin under the breast bag after an initial glance showed her the darker color of Edelweiss's nipples through the cloth. She wrapped the bandages quickly and efficiently—then, daring, leaned in and kissed the bandage over the wound.

  "Ah," Edelweiss said, drawing in a sharp breath. "A charm for healing?"

  May looked up, meeting Edelweiss's inhuman eyes. "If you want it to be," May said, after a long moment.

  Edelweiss's breath seemed to catch again. "No," she said. "I don't."

  Then she leaned down again, slowly, carefully, and kissed May.

  Edelweiss's lips were soft. She tasted of hunger and loneliness and sadness, and May let out a helpless sound into them as she kissed back, chasing that flavor to drive it away.

  *~*~*

  Afterward, naked in Edelweiss's golden bed, they traced each other's bodies: May stroking Edelweiss's curves from breast to sharp hipbone, and Edelweiss running her fingers over the firmer ridges of the muscles on May's torso.

  "Who are you really?" May asked, soft and curious. It wasn't the most accurate question; she knew who Edelweiss was, b
ut not who she had once been when she had been among people. It seemed, now, like a large gap in her understanding.

  "Do you know of a King Eadmund?" Edelweiss asked back, equally soft. It seemed that they were both strangely reluctant to talk too loudly.

  May nodded against the pillow. "He was King Edelmarr's great-great-grandfather," she said. "So you're... oh."

  She should have realized, perhaps, but 'Edelweiss' was such a common name. All royal names tended to become popular for centuries after their use, and May had known at least three Edelweisses before.

  "Princess Edelweiss, yes," Edelweiss said, and smiled ruefully. "King Eadmund's daughter, the court magician who went missing."

  "Did something happen to you?"

  She shook her head. "I just decided to study magic on my own," she said. "The previous court magician quit when I was declared his would-be successor. He didn't wish to train a woman to replace him, let alone one more powerful than him. I learned from his books, and I was... well, miserable. One day when I was out gathering spell materials, it occurred to me I didn't need to return to that. I had powerful enough magic that I could live on my own indefinitely in the woods, and keep learning over the years."

  "Incredible," May breathed. "You must have been so lonely."

  "I forgot that I was," Edelweiss admitted. "You were the first visitor to remind me. Every other one was—how to put it?—not interesting to talk to."

  May smiled a little at that. "I understand," she said. "I'd forgotten what it was like to not be angry, but talking to you helped that."

  "And so we've found each other," Edelweiss said, and laughed softly.

  At that, May's smile brightened—then faded again. "I really have no right to take you away from this peace you've found," she admitted. "If you want to stay, I'd understand. If you want me to stay too, I'd understand that also. But..."

  "But?" Edelweiss asked.

  "There's no magician at the court now," May said carefully. "It was considered a rather doomed position when you vanished and hasn't been filled for ages. As if they were waiting for your return."

  Edelweiss smiled at that, remarkably gentle. "And you want me to."