by Daila Wright
Without understanding what she'd be perfect for, the dragon flapped his great wings and soared away from the clearing, Ruelle trapped within.
Chapter Two
Arriving at the dragon's lair, a cave in the middle of a dark, mountainous forest, Ruelle was dumped on a small, ratty brown sofa before he transformed back into human form. The place looked like a dump, without any sense of grandeur placed in the room, without any kind of dignity showing with the bare bones structure of the furniture. A double bed lay on the side, where he obviously slept if he chose his human form.
Even with the minuscule cave, and the sound of rain dripping outside, Ruelle knew her value to Questers would now be through the roof. Past the Dark Clans, inside the deep woods with hundreds of monsters on either side, and the careless, strewn riches bulging out of a wooden side door, suggesting an already full treasure room – surely, hundreds of Questers would be vying to defeat the dragon.
Maybe I won’t be captured very long at all.
The dragon introduced himself as Kerric, and lit candles with a match, illuminating his green eyes in the flickers of flame. There was a small irony, Ruelle thought, that a dragon even needed to resort to matches at all.
“Most dragons would force their princesses to clean home and do incredibly boring tasks,” Kerric declared, folding his arms and giving her a dangerous, heart churning smile, “but considering the fire you showed at the auction, I have a very different idea in mind for you.”
Ruelle glared at him flatly, not impressed, not intending to cajole to any of his whims. “Yeah?”
Kerric yawned. When he moved, his body rippled with power. Full of control, screaming to Ruelle of the danger that lay under his skin. His next words punched through her observations. “I'm going to train you to fight.”
For a moment, Ruelle blinked, utterly confused at the statement. She'd been expecting something like becoming a slave in a dungeon, or being forced to muck through toilets as well as other embarrassing, unprincesslike scenarios.
But fight?
“What?” Her voice came out curt.
Kerric enjoyed her reaction, even chuckling. “I can tell you weren't expecting that part. Let's put it like this. Did you know we 'monsters' have our own version of Questing as well? You humans Quest for glory, fame, princesses and sometimes just trying to better yourselves. We do the same. There's a Quest that's been around in the Wilderness for a long time. It’s a challenging, some might even say impossible one. And I think you're what I've been looking for.”
Despite herself, at the mention of a Quest, and more importantly, one that a princess might be able to do, Ruelle found herself intrigued.
“It's not a Quest that requires a virgin sacrifice into a volcano, is it? I've heard about those.”
“Oh, no. There are no sacrifices. Unless you call sacrificing your time such a thing. But first, before I go into detail, you will take this.” He handed her a glass of clear water. “Drink.”
“Why?” Ruelle became instantly suspicious. “What’s in it?”
“Because if you don't, I'll tip it down your throat myself. And never you mind what’s in it.” His voice brooked no opposition. If she refused, he had the strength to administer it. Reluctant, convinced it had some kind of incurable poison in it, Ruelle held the glass in her hand for a moment before downing it. As she did, his smile grew wider, along with a brief flicker of relief.
Ruelle wiped her mouth, repeating, “What was in it?”
“A binding enchantment. If you attempt to harm me in any way, or escape from me, you'll be turned into a poison dart frog. I hear they're not so popular for being kissed by princes.”
“You bastard,” Ruelle hissed. “You wouldn't do that! What if I got lost by accident?”
Kerric puckered up his lips. “I'm immune to all poisons. I'll gladly kiss you back to humanity. There's no known antidote for this one either. So, thank you for taking the potion, princess.”
Ruelle fell into a black silence at that announcement, furious at being forced to drink it, to be bound to a bastard of a dragon. He gave her time out, letting her storm into a small room with a single bed, concealed in the back of the cave.
It took Ruelle a few hours before she wanted to even attempt to let him talk to her again. Unfortunately, there wasn't much to do in the cave itself. No way to entertain herself. Nothing to stimulate her mind. Skies, did this dragon have no concept of suitable living? The cave appeared as black as his soul.
When she did approach him again, he smiled triumphantly, making her want to disappear again.
“Good choice. I'll put you through training for a month, and after a few attempts to defeat Questers, which you will help with, by the way – or if I'm defeated, you'll automatically die – we'll go ahead and start the Trial of Lovers.”
Stabs of irritation throbbed through her blood, as she realized the predicament she was in.
You will be taken by darkness and never return to your kingdom again. The curse rested on her soul, infecting every thought. What did you do when the truth slapped you in the face? Burned in your blood? If she allowed a Quester to take her, she’d be dead.
Did that stupid curse mean the Dark Clans, or a black dragon? Or both?
“What if I'm willing to die, just to stop you controlling me like a puppet?”
“Your choice,” Kerric said, nonplussed. “But I think you should wait to hear what the Trial of Lovers is about, first. It might perk up your interest.”
“You're a Dark Clan dragon. You capture women. You sell them. Why do you even care about some stupid trial?”
“It's not exactly my day job, princess. It's just something I do every now and then for the slavers – I act as a bodyguard. They're near my doorstep, so you learn to make nice with the neighbors, or risk Dark Clan monsters testing your defenses and ransacking your home. My defenses are good, though I’d rather not have to deal with a pile of bodies every day.”
“Maybe that's what you deserve,” Ruelle spat, her blue eyes blazing. Her chest rose up and down from unbridled fury, from the careless way he treated her. She wasn't a person to him. Just a means to an end.
“I'll have to pay the hobgoblin in time, of course. But it'll work out for the best. Have you ever heard about the Trial of Lovers?”
Ruelle shrugged, face like thunder. “No. Why would I? I come from a central kingdom. I don't know anything about your Wilderness locations.”
He shrugged acceptance of her words. “It's a very old trial. You need a male and female to start it. It's a dungeon of sorts, and at the end, there's supposedly a legendary artefact. One that has the power to change a lot of things. Its creator thought it might be amusing to make it near impossible to obtain – especially since most women are not trained in combat. The closest I've heard of anyone succeeding in it have been female mages and witches, with male monsters. For obvious reasons. But maybe your combat prowess will be enough.”
“Yeah…” Ruelle rubbed at her face. “You’re saying you just scooped me up so I can fight for you?”
“Of course.”
She let out a sigh. “Do I have to be with you forever?”
“Depends. I know someone good at figuring out antidotes. If things work out.”
Ruelle frowned. She pursed her lips, focusing on what irritated her, more than the fact she’d swallowed a potion which kept her a prisoner without need for a cage. “If I’m going to be living with you, you’re going to tidy this place the fuck up. It’s hideous.”
Now it was Kerric’s turn to look baffled. He examined his cave dubiously. “I don’t think it looks that bad.”
“Are you kidding? There’s no good furniture!” She patted the ratty brown sofa. “This thing looks like it was brought like three millenniums ago. You have no decorations at all. And your treasury room is too small. Aren’t you afraid of being robbed?”
“Princess, I have enough of a security system in my cave. No one can rob me.”
“That’s what they a
ll say. My kingdom thought that they were pretty unrobbable, too. Right until the Dark Clan snatched me from the walls of my own castle. So forgive me if I’m a little sceptical of claims like that.”
“Fair point.” Kerric scowled for a moment at the bare furnishing of his tiny cave.
“You need to move the cave,” Ruelle said. “Or get one bigger on the inside enchantment for that treasury.”
“I already have that enchantment,” he said, making Ruelle’s eyes pop in surprise.
She raised up a finger. “Now this, I have to see.” Animosity temporarily forgotten, she stepped towards the treasure room, and saw a huge expanse full of glittering treasure, artefacts and gold lined furniture.”
“Kerric. You even have furniture here. Why the blasts aren’t you using it?”
He gave a sheepish, endearing smile. “I don’t check my treasure often…”
“Fuck that.” She snapped her fingers imperiously, and he came to peer over her shoulder into the vast room beyond. “We’re going to do some home decorating. I refuse to live in this place until you’ve made it look like a home.”
“Surely that can wait, princess?”
“Nope.”
She dragged Kerric into the room behind her, and he didn’t resist, half amused, half bewildered.
Good, she thought. Doing something like this gave her some measure of control in a situation where she felt she held none. If she couldn’t overpower him, if she couldn’t escape, then she’d damn well make him decorate.
I’m going to have to learn to get on with him as well. Ugh.
She examined his broad back for a moment, contemplating. If she was slightly less pissed off with him, she’d find his eyes rather dreamy, honestly. And maybe the rest of his body. He had decent, prominent musculature. He also possessed a way of filling up the room with his presence, arresting her focus with a gaze.
However, Ruelle had learned to deal with threats her entire life. Whatever threat she felt from him, she could resist.
I can handle this.
Chapter Three
Rapidly, the cave transformed under Ruelle’s constant dragooning. Kerric held a lot of odd materials in his expansive treasure lair, including a magical wardrobe which Ruelle took full use of, a mirror of beauty, a dressing table, better furniture, and a bed of Sweet Silk Sleep. (She hated saying that out loud.) She also hung up tapestries of ancient battles and monsters along the cave walls, placed a velvet royal rug and several sheepskin ones along the floor – and finished off decorations with a classic Tub of Plenty for quality bathtime.
It took her the better part of two days to transform the place, and on the second day, she ordered Kerric to buy her some kitchenware, get a decent pot to cook in, and obtain extra chairs and light sources. He did so, promising to be back within a few hours, and Ruelle sat herself down on one of the new, soft cotton armchairs, fingers curling on the golden rest.
She tilted her head to stare at the ceiling, before admiring the new furnishings. Now the place actually looked like a home. Nothing as grand as the castle back in her kingdom, but better than she expected. He sure had a lot of random crap in his vault.
Absently, she raised her palms up and rubbed at her face, to rid some of the tiredness etched into her soul.
I wonder how Xanthia is doing. I should try asking after her. And maybe find if any of my brothers and sisters were also sold there, in a different auction.
With such a huge raid by the Dark Clan in the heart of a central kingdom, there must be rampant fear back home. She expected there’d be a review of their magical defenses, so ill equipped for the portal that ripped a hole in time and space. That type of magic tended to be so rare, most assumed it didn’t exist.
A mistake, of course.
Now, she lived with a dragon, forced soon to attend Quest she didn’t care about. To make herself feel better, she focused on finding small entertainments in her life, on keeping herself busy. And thinking up ideas to escape. Now Kerric was gone, she had ample time to brood.
Maybe I can look through his treasury and try and find a genie bottle. See if I can get the curse lifted.
Buoyed up by the thought, she approached the dragon’s hoard, only to find some sort of invisible barrier which prevented her from entering.
“Drat,” she muttered, running fingers through her short, curly hair.
“Princess!”
The noise made her turn in alarm, and she faced a knight clad in shining white armour, an enormous broadsword strapped to his back. He lifted his visor up, revealing a beautiful, noble face with glittering blue eyes. He gave her the whitest of toothy smiles and bowed to her.
“Uh, hi,” she said.
“Princess! I am Oberan the knight, and I come to succeed in my Quest!”
Oh, fuck. “That was fast,” Ruelle said, thinking on her feet. “I’ve only been here for two days. Usually it’s about a month until the Quests start coming. And we’re really deep in the Wilderness here. How did you find me?”
“Well, I was on another Quest,” he admitted, looking shamefaced. “But then I got the call about yours. Your family is offering an awful lot to get you back.” His eyes flickered to the faintly glowing hoard of treasure. “Where’s your dragon?”
“Gone to get some kitchenware,” Ruelle replied, making the knight blink in polite confusion.
“Oh. Well, I suppose that makes it easier, then. Come with me, princess. We shall escape! I have the Wings of Icarus, we can be back in your kingdom in no time.”
“You realize the Wings of Icarus melt, right, when exposed to heat?”
The knight shrugged. He took a few steps forward, and Ruelle took a few steps back.
“I can’t come with you.”
“Why not?” The knight scowled at her, suspicious. “Are you under a spell?”
Ruelle was about to say no, then considered again. “Actually, yes. One that kills me instantly if I try to escape, escape, or harm my captor. So, I really can’t escape. Not unless you want a dead princess to haul home.”
“Huh.” The knight stared for a moment, nibbling his lip, before reaching into the leather satchel resting on the side of his gleaming armor. “Maybe I have an antidote for that…?”
Ruelle waited, hopeful, in case the knight did have something that helped. He shook his head after a short search. “No. I got nothing. Sorry.”
“You should leave. Before the dragon gets back. Dragons,” she clarified, and she noted the beads of sweat pop on his head at the mention of dragons. “And do tell everyone about the curse. Maybe you can find someone who’ll help me.”
“I can’t leave with nothing, princess…” the knight looked rather crestfallen, his bottom lip trembling like a child’s.
Ruelle sighed. “Well, alright, then. Take this thing.” She plucked a necklace from her dressing table and tossed it to him. It had a sapphire on it the size of her palm, and the knight smiled in delight as he caught it.
“Thank you, princess! I’ll spread the word. And good luck.” He bowed awkwardly as he left the cave.
I was lucky with this one. He was quite prepared to believe me and to leave.
Barely moments after the first knight left, she got confronted by another. When she shifted him after five minutes of persuasion, she encountered a band of five.