by Daila Wright
Ruelle might have eaten this food several times in the past few weeks, but she loved the wholesome flavor, and tucked into it with enthusiasm.
“I'd dance with you, princess, but I'm not actually a terribly good dancer. We would just sway from side to side, and there's no music to lighten the mood.”
“Don't worry. What you're doing is wonderful,” she said, sighing in wistful happiness. “Maybe we can take a walk afterwards, if it isn't raining.”
“Maybe,” Kerric said, quietly downing his soup, rarely taking his eyes off her. The abrupt attention rose the temperature in her body, and reminded her of the dreams that haunted her conscience, whenever she found herself stopping for a moment to admire his form. She remembered the way his muscles rippled as he moved, and the strong scent that emanated from his skin, surrounded her in an alluring aroma.
She dressed up back at home, but never felt anything special when wearing the clothes. Her sisters and brothers thought she appeared too out of place to justify wearing such expensive items – and honestly, she'd ruined a few practicing in the mud, when she wanted to try and train wearing one.
When they started and finished their second course, a delightful potato and meat based dish layered with cheese – maybe not the healthy vegetables of back home, but a fulfilling meal nonetheless – Kerric got up, held his arm out to her again and invited her to walk with him outside.
“Thank you for this, Kerric. Seriously.”
“No need to thank me, princess. Just because you happen to be stuck in a cave with a dragon, doesn't mean you should never get to feel like the princess you are. How come you think like this, though? About not being like a princess?”
Ruelle halted when they rounded the corner, where the stone cavern door had been rolled aside (another additional security measure installed by the witches) and she saw torrential rain pouring down.
So much for the walk, then. “Well, I had some stupid curse placed on me by an evil fairy Godmother. My parents knew they couldn't reverse the curse, so they spent years training me up instead to deal with it. Once I reached my eighteenth birthday, I would be taken by darkness and never return to my kingdom again. Pretty glum, right?”
Kerric observed the rainfall, giving a small shrug. “Let's not take that walk outside. We can just sort of... walk around the cave instead.”
Ruelle agreed, and they now began an odd pacing up and down the small confines of his cave. “Well, the first part is true. You were taken by the Dark Clans. So I suppose that's the darkness. Gods, I hate these vague prophecies.” She noticed the omission of himself, and didn’t push it.
“Me, too. It's like they can never give you a straight answer. Like I had a brother with a blessing that said the color yellow would be his lucky color. Gave him a massive complex and an abnormal fear of other colors. You'd never see him in the dining rooms because we all liked wearing different dresses and tops.”
“Interesting.”
“Do you have any family, Kerric? You live in this cave all by yourself. Do dragons have family like us?”
Kerric licked his lips. His brow crumpled in thought. “We have family. Unlike your Hundred Kingdoms, though, we don't have quite so many of those. We have around two kingdoms, and the rest are small clans or isolated caves like mine. I have a brother I haven't spoken to in over sixty years, and a sister who is part of the two kingdoms, married to a king.” He stopped, turned with her, and began pacing back to the entrance. “We prefer our isolation and space. Those who choose to give that up tend to disintegrate into very human like bickering and clashes over time.”
“What about your parents?”
“I've never known mine. Our eggs were left unhatched for over four hundred years, before a forest fire heated them up enough to crack open.”
Ruelle blinked rapidly at this information, unable to comprehend the idea that a dragon could wait hundreds of years to be born. It also rose other questions to mind. Questions that concerned her drifting thoughts.
“So... dragons hatch from eggs?”
Kerric smiled at her, and it came tinted with mischief. “If they choose to mate as dragons, yes. If a male dragon causes a human female to be pregnant, however, she will give birth to a human child. Not lay an egg like a chicken. For some reason, we seem to be quite compatible as species.” He lifted his free hand up to brush her curls, revealing her tender neck. Where his fingers touched, they left a trail of fire that ignited her already heated cheeks further, and she shivered, a curious, melting sensation flooding through her body.
Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to give in. To succumb to his touch. Whatever Kerric meant to her, she did know that she liked him a lot more than anticipated. Enough to watch him as he moved, to enjoy listening to his voice, and training with him. Along with the occasional close contact.
Her lips brushed his as she craned her neck, and he kissed back, sighing into the touch. His hands clasped her blonde hair, pulling her in close, and she pressed into his body, her cheeks flaring, her spine rippling with sudden arousal.
The arousal pooled in her core, sent warm, fuzzy feelings through her body, and she let out a little whimper against his lips, causing him to grip her tighter.
Slowly, they headed towards his bed, kissing the whole time, hands groping one another, seeking each other's skins and leaving trails of burning lust all along the surface. When the back of her knees hit the bed, Ruelle sat down, and Kerric gradually helped position her so that he hung above her, and she lay comfortably beneath, as he delicately started taking off her clothes.
He often took the opportunity to dip his head close for more kisses, to allow their tongues to intertwine, and for soft moans to escape their throats.
Ruelle could sink into his touch forever. She wouldn't mind this feeling staying with her, smelling his manly scent surrounding her, feeling his hard skin press hers, along with the way his muscles rippled and his body shifted above hers.
She worked at his clothes as well, her cheeks on fire, electricity flickering and raising the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck, feeling the sheets rustle around her as he unzipped her wonderful red gown, and let it fall onto the floor. With her breasts out, her nipples hardening, Kerric quickly worked on her leggings and shoes, until she lay bare and vulnerable before him, trembling from the idea that this would be their first time together.
Her first time, ever.
Slowly, he took off his robes, his powerful body unveiling itself, and Ruelle needed to suppress her instinct to start drooling from the sight. She ran her fingers over his supple body, sighing at how smooth and strong he felt under his touch, how well defined his muscles were as they curved around his frame.
When he revealed his manhood, Ruelle stared at the huge erection in astonishment, wondering if it would hurt to have that inside her.
Kerric tested how wet she was, and groaned in lust. “You're so hot for me...”
Ruelle groaned as well, feeling the heat emanate from her core, waiting for Kerric to take her. Her heart throbbed, longing for him, crying out for him.
When he did, slowly inserting himself inside, she let out a long, continuous groan, holding hard onto his shoulders. She cried out when he buried himself to the hilt, and he paused.
“Are you okay?”
She moaned her assent, and he began moving in and out, his face hard in concentration, his body thrusting into hers, moving her further along the bed, ruining the sheets.
Feeling him inside made her soul soar, her heart pound ever faster, and her lips utter sounds of pleasure. The emotion boiled inside her, threatening to overwhelm everything there, grasping all her worries and fears and transforming them into something else.
Kerric moved inside her faster, his stomach muscles contracting, and tension built up in Ruelle's thighs, hot like molten metal, filling up her veins as the tension increased. Part of her felt ashamed, the other part wanted him to never stop. The pressure culminated in a wave of joy as her body shook and orgasm
ed.
She cried out, even as Kerric came inside her, and clung to him tight, keeping him inside. Her limbs fell limp shortly afterwards, boneless from the pleasure.
When he withdrew, he whispered, “Goodnight, princess,” into her ear, and let her head rest on his chest, wrapping her comfortably in his arms.
With a huge smile, her body buzzing from delight, she fell asleep in his arms, feeling on top of the world. As if her luck had increased on her at last.
As if she belonged here.
Chapter Four
The memories of last night hit her in force, along with the sight of her crumpled dress on the floor. Kerric slumbered peacefully next to her, his chest exposed in the dimly lit room, gently lifting up and down.
Ruelle stared at him, trying to fathom what she felt. Happy? Sad? Complete? Safe?
Safe. How odd, to feel safety, in the heart of the Wilderness, far from home and surrounded by monsters on all sides. Monsters, and the cats, of course.
Maybe... maybe the curse isn't as terrible a curse as everyone made out. If this is the interpretation of it. A dragon who lets me dress up, trains with me, and intends to take me out to fight by his side. Even if he's kind of a bastard for making me drink that potion.
In his position, though, she honestly didn't know if she would have done the same thing. If she happened to be a dragon fighting to defend against Questers, keeping his princess close... maybe she would have found a similar method.
When she asked Kerric once how rare the potion was, he admitted that the witch famous for brewing such potions was long since dead, so the number of them left in the world was unknown, but suspected to be few.
“The Gold Goblin I bought this from had no idea of the limited value of it, because he didn't know the witch was dead,” Kerric had explained. “And I've saved it ever since. Waiting for the right person to come along for the Trial of Lovers.”
The Trial of Lovers. An ordeal that required no enchanted weapons. Only the ability of their bodies and the magic of their minds. (If they had it, of course.) An ordeal that held some kind of legendary artefact at the end if they succeeded – something all Questers strived for, but rarely obtained. If word spread around of Ruelle possessing such an artefact, she'd go down in history as a warrior woman, surely. Bards would sing about her, books would be written, and they'd probably invent some terrible love story to go along with her achievement.
Unless the love story existed. She bit her lip as she examined Kerric. Her heart reached out to him, enveloping him in affection, and she lifted her hand to stroke his cheek, brushing along the rough hair there.
His eyes fluttered open, and he stared at her fondly, yawning. “Good morning, princess.”
“Morning,” she replied, suddenly shy. He kissed her on the lips, before rolling out of bed, stretching.
“It's time, princess. We will attempt the trial today.”
Excitement pulsed within. Eagerly, Ruelle got dressed, armoring herself and tucking a mithril sword into her sheath. A strong metal, but not enchanted with any spells to make it stronger. Kerric did the same, and once both had slapped on all their armor and ate breakfast together, they left the confines of the cave.
He shifted into his vibrant black dragon form, and she clambered awkwardly onto his back. He ran through a horde of cats and beat his great wings, lifting off and soaring high.
Too late, Ruelle realized one cat had made it onto Kerric's back with them, and the terrified tabby dug claws into her backside, until she prised it off and let the creature sit between her legs.
The Wilderness unravelled beneath them in a myriad of greens, grays and browns, before they approached what looked like a rather ominous and dormant volcano. Kerric dived towards it, and she spotted a gateway in the center of the volcano, with two gargoyles flanking it.
Landing in the volcano, the gargoyles turned their stone heads towards them. Kerric shapeshifted back into his human form, and the tabby cat landed beside them.
“Been a while,” one of the gargoyles said, scratching his head. “Ten years since the last couple attempted the trial.” He sniffed at them, as did the other.
“Good. No enchantments. Alright then. Off you go.” The lead gargoyle smiled, though it looked more like a grimace, and he bowed them through. The gateway sparkled into life, showing a humming blue portal, obscuring the other side.
That's like what the Dark Clan used to transport me a month ago!
Ruelle examined the portal cautiously, though Kerric held no such concerns. He smiled blithely at Ruelle, took her hand, and tugged her towards the portal.
The cat sat outside, tail swishing, and the gargoyles glared at the cat, until it chose to rub itself against one of their legs.
“Awh... kitty,” one of the gargoyles said, picking it up and petting it.
Striding through the portal felt like wading through a bowl of soup. The world around her turned blue and swishy, until they stepped into a large, arena like room, with a golden door on the other side.
The arena glowed with a bright green light, giving an eerie, sickly feel to it.
“Have you been here before?” Ruelle hissed, hand resting on her sword. Kerric kissed her forehead, rubbing her shoulder in comfort, before shaking his head.
“Nope. Be prepared for anything.”
Two figures materialized in the center. Both resembled humans at first glance, though both held soulless, black eyes on their stiff faces. A man and a woman. The woman, clad in black armor, with long, flowing white hair, strode towards Ruelle, before halting in front. A huge claymore hung on the woman’s back, heavier and larger than what any normal woman could wield. She unsheathed it with ease, holding the weapon in one hand.
“I challenge you to a fight, Ruelle of the Hallow Kingdom.”
The male halted in front of Kerric. His chestplate was almost twice as wide as his body, and his muscles bulged impressively. Black eyes stared from his helmeted face, the visor lifted to reveal a squashed nose and pale skin.
“I challenge you to a fight, Kerric of the Lost Brood.”
“How do they even know who we are?” Ruelle hissed.
“They're magical beings, Ruelle. How the fuck would I know?”
She snorted, even as the women bowed, introducing herself as Arlain, and the man as Jacen.
“May the best fighter win.”
Arlain lashed out her claymore. Ruelle dodged to the side, and rolled to avoid another slash. She arrested her movement as Arlain jabbed forward, and jumped over the downward slash.
In the same movement, Arlain closed the gap and slashed one handed with the impossibly huge weapon.
I can't block that! Ruelle backflipped away as the claymore scraped the ground where she'd been standing a second earlier. Kerric tanked Jacen's hit, and she saw his elbow jar from the force. Jacen used a scimitar, rather than the huge monstrosity.
Arlain wielded, though it clearly remained hard going to dodge the blows, since both opponents fought with deadly skill and impossible strength.
Ruelle fought tooth and nail, trying to use her speed advantage, since even with Arlain's speed, the weapon created drag as she swung it, giving Ruelle the time needed to avoid.
Ruelle watched Arlain like a predator waiting for when the drag became too much, or she made an error in her movement. Ruell spotted it when Arlain stepped in too close, too fast. Ruelle leaped on her advantage, closing in on Arlain with a body tackle that sent the woman clasing to the ground. Ruelle got two blows to Arlain's wrist, forcing her to let go of the heavy weapon, and a few more in the fighter's face, before placing her blade near Arlain's throat.
The woman coughed, smirking through bloody teeth. “I yield.”