Avalee and the Dragon

by Hamill, Patricia

  She shrugged out of the pack and dropped it at the edge of the clearing before walking in. The sudden, balmy heat meant her jacket followed the pack. She tossed it behind her towards the edge, not bothering to look. Avalee was overcome by the sweet, heady scent of the blossoms and the taste of their nectar in the air.

  In the center of the clearing, she fell to her knees and sank back on her feet, eyes closed, face presented to the sky. She could almost imagine the sun beaming down on her, though she knew for a fact that it had barely risen and would be hours in transit before it would shine into the clearing. She peered up anyway, looking for it, and then looked about once more at the cage of barren trunks and branches contrasting sharply with the tiny meadow. She preferred it with her eyes closed.

  Her eyes, still burning from poor sleep, seemed welded shut, and her mind swirled towards dreaming. Avalee gave into the sensation and reclined on her back, sensing the petals tickling along her face, her arms and her fingertips—everywhere her skin was bare to their caress. It took only moments for her to sleep in truth.

  From the edge of the clearing, the dragon, once more in the shape of a man, watched her—his heart aching, his mind confused. These feelings, this pull had been nothing more than mild interest and amusement. It had been until yesterday. In this form, the draw was painful, urgent, and maddening, and now it extended to his dragon form. The urge to become a man again, to be able to touch Avalee's face with his fingertips once more, to walk beside her, to have her look at him directly. It was impossible. But yet, here he stood, again on two feet instead of four, watching her, yearning to join her in the clearing, but sensing that to do so would be a mistake.

  Avalee slept on, unsuspecting and at peace, the magic of the clearing thrumming through her veins and infusing her with its energy.

  ~~~

  Chapter 19

  Avalee woke, quite suddenly, several hours later. Her eyes simply opened, and she was fully awake. She sat up and looked around at the unchanging clearing, a magical place, and then got to her feet and went over to her pack to fetch some of the food. She stopped. Just a few paces down the path, the dragon, again a man, was sitting against one of the trees by the path, obviously asleep.

  She wondered why it was here, and why it hadn't come into the clearing. Not wanting its company, she began to dig in the pack again, quietly this time, and pulled out the makings of a small lunch. She didn't bother with the blanket, though. But, just as she was about to rise from her crouch, her eyes fell on the sword, packed on a whim.

  The sword and the dragon, vulnerable in its human form and asleep. Her promise to take the next opportunity to end her captivity spiked into her mind, and her throat went dry. She gulped with difficulty, and her hand clutched her chest as a strange ache filled it. She'd promised herself. She'd desired this, and now here was that chance. She could end this today, now.

  And yet, he slept, unknowing and trusting, a man now. Avalee's lips pressed together grimly, and she closed her eyes and told herself she had to do it. Then she opened them and set down the food in favor of the blade.

  Her steps were slow and cautious on the path, and every rustle and crunch of leaf and twig beneath her feet caused her to cringe. The ache in her chest pressed on her more and more the nearer she came, and hot tears began to stream from eyes, blurring her vision. She held the sword before her awkwardly, with two hands.

  When she reached the dragon's sleeping form, she stopped and looked down at him. He was smiling in his sleep, the corner of his mouth tilted up in that half smile that he sometimes gave her, even as a dragon. The ache became too much; she couldn't do it. The sword's tip fell, her hands losing their grip even as her knees weakened. The tears were joined by an involuntary sob as she finally dropped the sword to her side and fell to her knees before her intended victim.

  She buried her face in her hands, her hair curtaining around it, and tried to hold the emotion in. Tried and failed to calm herself. But the crushing despair from yet another failure to end the dragon's life, conflicting with the pain she felt at the thought of succeeding, was too much, and she failed.

  A rustle of leaf and drawn breath before her announced the waking of the dragon, but she couldn't look at him, not now, but that didn't stop him from looking at her.

  Newly awoken, he stared in surprise at Avalee as she cried at his feet. He hadn't meant to doze, and he hadn't wanted her to know he was near. His heart broke at her obvious pain, and he reached out, not quite far enough to touch her, before his eyes dropped towards hint of reflected light that caught his attention. There beside her on the path was the sword. He recoiled and looked at his hand, the sliver of white where that blade had pierced him scarred him even in this form. She had meant to... He didn't want to finish the thought.

  Instead of reaching for Avalee, he took the sword and stood, watching as she crouched beneath him, sobbing. He couldn't trust her with this, despite the fact that she hadn't gone through with her plan. Had she planned it? The stray thought invaded his mind.

  Avalee had begun to contain the overwhelming feelings; though her chest still ached and heaved with sobs she could not contain. But, she forced herself to look at the dragon, and he looked down at her. She noticed the sword in his hand, and her own hand covered her mouth. He knew.

  "I'm sorry," she gasped, a whisper.

  "Are you?" he answered, looking at the blade in his hand. "You were close, weren't you? Another moment, and..."

  Avalee tried to meet his eyes and saw pain reflected in them. "I'm sorry, I." She couldn't maintain the contact and looked down again, tears dropping to the leaves, the silence of the forest around them making each one seem a drum beat.

  Then a loud thunk and crash sounded, and she looked up. The dragon was dropping to his knees beside her, but no longer held the sword. Had he thrown it? Her eyes searched for it. Her heart kicking into high speed at the thought that she had not only failed this time, but had likely ruined her chances at another try.

  Conflicting emotions welled again and pulled her down with them, but this time she wasn't alone. The dragon, despite being the target of her failed attempt, pulled her gently into his arms and held her there. He stroked her hair, rubbed her arm. He said nothing, just allowed her to cry. Avalee wished he would shout instead. This made it all worse.

  After several minutes, Avalee calmed, her breath steadying. While tears continued to fall, sobs no longer escaped, and her hands no longer shook. The dragon held her close, and she could hear the steady beating of his heart. So human. She didn't want to face him, but it would be impossible not to after this. She had to explain. Couldn't just let him wonder at her.

  She raised her head and looked at him. He was looking out at nothing, staring and lost in thought, but he sensed her movement, and his gaze shifted to hers. There was pain in his eyes, hurt. She had done that.

  "I'm sorry," she whispered hoarsely.

  "I know, Avalee. I know."

  "I want to explain."

  He frowned. "Do you? I thought it obvious." He looked away again, but she reached up and caught his chin to turn him back.

  "Please?" She watched his face carefully—no hint of anger, just pain and maybe disappointment.

  "Very well," the dragon replied after a moment. His hand reached up and covered hers where it touched his face, and then he pulled it away and simply held it. "Tell me why you wish to kill me. I will listen."

  Still encased in his arms, Avalee shifted to try to gain some distance before complying, but those arms tightened around her just enough to keep her there. She stopped and looked up at him, but he was looking away again.

  "I made a promise," she said, "to myself before the festival. I would not be taken without a fight."

  He looked at her again, but she continued uninterrupted.

  "Instead of going to the square to find out if I was chosen, I decided to prepare myself first. So, I stole a sword from the smith and strapped it to my leg. I planned to hide it and then fight off the drago
n when it came to take me—if I was chosen."

  The dragon nodded, remembering how that had gone. He let go of her hand and she looked down, following his eyes. The scar on his hand, where the sword had pierced the dragon's paw. Yes, he remembered well. Avalee covered his palm with hers, hiding the silvery evidence from their eyes before catching his eye again.

  "I was chosen, and I waited through the festivities, the stories of the young women who were sent before me, never to be seen again. The stories of the terror you brought on my people before the bargain was struck. The killing, the destruction. The men who left for Dragon's Mount to stop you, never to return to their families. I waited, and the whole time the stolen blade weighed heavy on my leg. Then, the men of my village took me by the arm and marched me to the place where I was certain that I would die. But my promise kept me strong. The steel kept me strong.

  "They left me, locked the gate behind them, and abandoned me to my fate. But I wanted a say in my fate, so when I was sure they were gone, I freed the sword and tried to learn it. Exhaustion took me, and I slept. You came, then, and that was the first time I failed."

  She was no longer looking at the dragon's face. Her eyes were shut tightly, and her head rested on his shoulder, her forehead against his neck. She thought back to that failure. How the beast had not even noticed the blade. How, despite its blood, she had done nothing to fulfill her promise.

  "I remember. It hurt you as it did me," the dragon said, "but you were so defiant, so angry that I had taken you, and then you forgot all of that in a moment of beauty. I remember that as well. You said, 'beautiful.'"

  "I did," Avalee agreed. The dragon squeezed her hand gently and released it to stroke her face. She realized that he remembered that moment, that journey, fondly. He thought it a happy memory, but to her, well, it had been terrifying. That one word, that moment, had been the exception. The rest had been fear.

  Avalee continued, "It was beautiful, but I was still afraid. I didn't understand why I was still alive. And then I woke in the darkness, ill from exhaustion and thirst, and there was Elisa. And though I was chained, I remembered my promise: I would not be taken without a fight. But in that moment, I had decided flight might be the better path."

  "So you did."

  "I didn't. You were there and stopped me, and then Elisa, too, was gone, and I had to try again."

  "But you came back."

  "Another failure."

  The dragon touched her chin and turned her face up to his. "No, a decision." He was close, the breath of his words tickled her lips. "One that brought unexpected joy to my heart."

  "Joy?" she whispered, trying to pull back, but he now held her firmly. The dragon's arm and hand braced her back and neck in place, his other hand still held her so that he could look her in the eyes.

  "Yes, I thought you had run. Like the others, I thought you hated me. But you returned, and for a moment, I believed that maybe you were different." He released her chin and looked away, as his fingers trailed back along her jawline and then down her throat where they paused. "And I felt joy."

  "And in the forest outside the village?" Avalee said. Despite the fact that he no longer forced her gaze, she watched him and saw the answer in his face.

  "You would have attacked, were it not for your shock." He looked out at the trees.

  "Another failure," she admitted.

  "But then we were in the village, and I allowed myself to forget." The dragon looked back at her and seemed surprised that she hadn't tucked her head back out of sight again.

  "I did, too," she whispered. The words were barely more than breath, and the dragon smiled.

  "As I am now."

  His eyes were swirling pools of flame, mesmerizing, and she was having a hard time concentrating.

  "As you are what?" she said softly.

  "Forgetting." And with that word, the man that was the dragon gently cupped her face in his palm once more and kissed her.

  Her eyes widened in shock at first and she gasped, but the dragon deepened the kiss, and she felt herself melting into it. Forgetting, for this one moment in time, who and what he was. Forgetting her promise.

  When he pulled away, she was dazed. He grinned at her for a moment, smoothing her hair back fondly, and then pulled her back into his arms, holding her close. This time, she felt his heart racing.

  And, as the rhythm slowed, and her own did in response, she remembered. Another failure, and this time her heart was the traitor. She listened to his breath and wondered how long he would want to stay like this. Not just holding her, but human, vulnerable. She'd told him her promise, and he'd kissed her.

  Did he believe her incapable of keeping it? Did she?

  They stayed like that until the sun began to set and the chill night wind brought Avalee to shivers. Then the dragon drew them both to their feet and left her there briefly to retrieve her things.

  After shrugging on the jacket, she allowed the dragon to lead the way back to the cave, but before she followed, she peered into the woods in the direction she thought he'd thrown the sword.

  Promise postponed, perhaps, but not forgotten.

  ~~~

  Chapter 20

  Over the following days and weeks, Avalee saw the dragon less and less and the man more and more. The dragon seemed to think it was what she wanted, but Avalee began to wish he didn't. It wasn't that the dragon as a man wasn't pleasant company, not that he wasn't helpful, but she was tiring of the emotional strain of him always being there, watching her.

  As he did now. Avalee stood at the work table near the fire, washing potatoes in a basin, and a tingle ran down her spine. She didn’t have to look to know the dragon was there, but she did anyway. Today he was a dragon. She set the potato she’d just cleaned onto the table with a few others and turned towards him.

  “What?” she said, trying and failing to hide the annoyance in her tone.

  The dragon lifted his head and replied, “The day is clear, perfect for travel. Would you care to join me for a supply run?”

  Avalee’s heart jumped and then settled into a quicker pace. The chance to have some time in the village among other people was tempting. She only wished…

  “What are you thinking?” The dragon was perceptive. He had noticed her hesitation.

  She took a moment before answering, trying to understand her mind before explaining it to him. “I would like to go, but I,” she stopped and looked away before continuing, “I want time apart, a break.”

  “Apart,” he said.

  The rumble of his voice echoed through the cavern, surrounding Avalee in a cascade. He hadn’t shouted, but the one word shook her as if he had. The emotion behind it, the hurt. She forced down the lump in her throat and said, “Yes, apart.”

  Silence. She looked up and saw that he was no longer looking at her but away. He was thinking. She waited.

  “Very well, apart.” He turned back to look at her and said, “But only while I gather the supplies.”

  She nodded—a thank you unsaid, but understood. Avalee dried her hands on her dress and then hurried off to her room to change into a more presentable one, finishing by tying her hair up into a braid and pulling on shoes. She often went barefoot in the cave, now, but she couldn’t do that in the village, and especially not where she planned to go once she got there.

  She gathered up her pack and then took a few moments to walk through the storeroom and the pantry, taking mental note of those items running low. She needed fruits and vegetables, but knew that fresh would be hard or impossible to come by. Winter had arrived in earnest, and today was the first day the dragon had mentioned good weather. Still, she mused, perhaps he would find some canned goods. She’d been surprised not to find any such in her stores, but she hoped to remedy that. As for meat, there really wasn’t much point to getting any of that in the village. The dragon was nothing if not a consistent hunter. She imagined that he took most of his meals away, as a dragon, but he never failed to bring a haunch of something
or another at least once per week. Avalee found she was much more adept at dealing with such gifts and made short work of processing and storing them away.

  When she returned to the main cavern, the dragon was gone, and the pack that held all the smaller packs they would fill on their trip was gone, too. Avalee nodded. The dragon had already gone up to wait for her. She jogged up and around the ramp—something she’d taken to doing at least once per day—and reached the top in only a few minutes. The dragon crouched on the ledge, looking out over the water.

  Despite its assurances about the weather, Avalee clutched her arms around her middle. The chill was bitter and invasive. Such a small movement, but the dragon noticed. He looked back at her, his brow ridge rising slightly in a look of concern.

  “You are cold. Here.” He indicated the pack at his feet. “There is a warm blanket in there. Take it for the journey.”

  Avalee nodded and fetched the blanket before climbing atop his back and wrapping it about herself. She snugged her legs under the ridge of his back and gripped it tightly before telling him she was ready. Below her, the dragon’s body shifted slightly as it took up the pack in its talon and then, without warning, it leapt off the cliff.

  This was the part that had terrified Avalee the first, and last, time he had taken her to the village. The freefall, the water speeding up to engulf their plummeting bodies, the dizzying sense of chaos. But this time, there was a rush, a burst of pleasure and a sense of freedom. The wind caught the dragon’s outstretched wings and lifted them up and over the waves; though she felt the bitter sting of spray as its free talon trailed briefly through the water.

  The journey seemed both never-ending and swift.

  Never-ending because the blanket, though thick, was nowhere near warm enough, nor was it at all sufficient under the wind of flight. Her fingers were freezing onto the dragon’s ridge, and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to release it once they landed. Swift because she was mesmerized by the snow-blanketed landscape and, in particular, by her first good view of the land adjacent to their cliff-side home.