by Liv Savell
The rain was a constant nuisance, driving into her eyes and soaking her clothes. Delyth wiped her face again and again, trying to make out the dragon against the clouds. Her hide was so dark, and there was less light in the sky every moment.
The wind was picking up as well. One moment Delyth was flying through it; the next, it had caught her wings and thrown her backward, tumbling like a field mouse tossed by a cat. The earth and sky merged around her, made detail-less by darkness, but she stopped herself with a flair of wings and strained to gain height once more.
Only, Llu’draig was gone, her black hide invisible against the clouds.
Delyth scanned the skies around her, but the rain blurred her vision, made it impossible to see. The wind sent her plummeting again, the ground rising up to meet her.
No.
She would not be defeated by a single storm. She couldn’t fail. Not for Enyo. The compulsion to keep her oath to the Goddess was a tiny thing compared to her real desire. Almost inconsequential. Both dragons of Dusk and Dawn had named her little sister.
And Delyth would prove herself worthy of that title.
Gasping, the warrior flung herself back skyward, straining against the wind. Every muscle in her neck and shoulders and wings struggled for it, pushing her up, defying the rain. So she could not see the dragon in the storm.
Delyth would find her above it.
For an age, the warrior fought upwards, her face and neck streaming with the torrents of water, her clothing soaked to the skin. She was blind, a tortured thing struggling towards the light.
And then she was breathing in vapor. Thick and mountain-snow cold, it formed stalagmites of ice on all the lining of her lungs. She choked on it, gasping for real air, for oxygen to fuel the frantic pumping of her wings.
And then she was through. All the world was still. Frigid and dark and lined with stars so close that Delyth could swim among them. She crowed for the sheer joy of it.
And Llu’draig roared back.
Together, they rose, the black dragon stretched out from nose to tail, reaching up to the moon above. She seemed endless, her edges fading into the dark around them, and Delyth so tiny beside her. So small. Holding her hand out to catch moon rays even as ice formed on her eyelashes.
Just woman and dragon and starlight.
⥣ ⥣ ⥣
* * *
At dawn, Delyth approached the cave for the final time, her eyes red-rimmed and tired above smiling lips.
She had done it.
She had passed both of the dragon’s tests. Proved herself worthy of being bargained with.
Like an equal.
Ral’draig arranged herself before the cave much as she had been when the warrior had first seen her. Again her gaze was appraising. Though this time, the great serpent seemed to approve of what she found. She blew hot air gently over Delyth’s hands, where they proffered up the twin scales. One light. One dark.
“You have passed our tests, little sister. Now, what would you like to trade?”
Delyth reached into the satchel at her side and pulled out a crown, bejeweled and glittering. It was heavy in her palm.
“I offer the crown of an Ingolan King, lost in Thloegr during the Great War.” Delyth was glad, then, she had asked Enyo for some object to trade. When the Goddess had ordered her to retrieve something from the sky dragons, she had known she would not steal into their layer in the night as Tristan had once done. “In exchange for the twin seed to Ruyaa’s tree.”
Ral’draig considered this for a long moment, then nodded. Though the seed was rare, neither she nor her sister were particularly interested in so dull a treasure. She shifted so that Delyth might enter and exchange the two items, watching closely the entire time. When the warrior had finished, she again arranged herself before the cave.
“A good bargain, little sister. Now, I have one to ask of you. Llu’draig and I know that Maoz walks this land again, but despite that moons have passed since his return, he has not come to us.
“We chafe beneath the compulsion he has laid on us, the oath we took to wake only one at a time. If you will find him and tell him we long to speak to him again, then you may wear our scales until the day you return them in exchange for a boon.
“Well, little sister? I long to fly with the Dusk Dragon again.”
Delyth was already nodding, her chest pinched with feeling. How lonely it must be to be near someone you loved but not able to truly speak. Almost like it had been with Alphonse in the beginning while Enyo controlled her body. And even then, Delyth had still gotten to see her lover periodically. She cleared her throat. “I swear, Dawn Dragon, that I will speak to Maoz on your behalf.”
Ral’draig bent her great, pearlescent head until the warm scales of her snout bumped Delyth’s chest.“I accept your oath.”
Thunder rent the sky, and that same terrible weight pressed Delyth down into the earth as when she had taken her oath to Enyo. Then it was over, and the great serpent had pulled away to look down on her. “Go now, little sister. May your talons stay sharp, and the wind always fly at your back.”
And so Delyth left with more family than she had known before.
Silvie, Margot, Ines, Lilou, and Bram
1822, Fourth Moon, Waning Crescent: Nyth’draig Village
Alphonse picked up another speckled egg from beneath the blooming laurel bush, brushing off a few purple flower petals and setting it gently amongst the other eggs in her basket. The healer sighed as she glanced towards Sylvie, who was giving her the reproachful look of someone deeply offended.
Of course, it was Sylvie, the fickle hen. She was the most easily affronted. She’d cackle all night if a storm was coming in and was never pleased with Alphonse’s treatment of her precious eggs.
“Don’t look at me that way, Sylvie! I will have none of your guff today.”
Sylvie fluffed out her golden feathers and squawked, waddling away like a great lady walking off in a huff.
Despite herself, the healer smiled and looked around her garden with some satisfaction. With spring well underway, many of the plants were blooming. The apple tree was shedding white blossoms, and her bean plants were poking through the earth near their trellis, ready any day to climb up.
Alphonse stepped onto the stone path she and Delyth had laid so carefully last summer to keep the way from becoming so muddy during winter rains. Now her hens strutted across it, certain the stones had been laid for their benefit. Sylvie still ignored Alphonse, and Ines, Lilou, and Bram contentedly pecked away at the feed she had scattered earlier.
Margot was perched by the back door, waiting for Alphonse to allow the silly chicken entrance to the cottage. She had aspirations; she was stoic and determined. Brave.
Like Delyth.
Alphonse had said as much to her paramour, and the warrior had seemed not to mind the comparison. After all, when Bram had been attacked by an opossum last winter, it had been Margot who so fiercely pecked at the beast while the other ladies set up a ruckus, and Alphonse had hurried out with her broom in hand. Bram had been healed, and while she walked with a bit of a funny gait, she seemed well enough, if a bit scatterbrained. Of all the hens, she was the most likely to lay right in the middle of a path. Odd creature. Still, they were Alphonse’s companions when Delyth was off serving Enyo. As she was now.
Alphonse loved the hens dearly, even if Sylvie was a bit uppity. The hen couldn’t help it; after all, she was an Ingolan cream hen instead of the rest, who were the hardier Thloegr stock.
“Shoo shoo ladies. Go eat bugs in the garden. I’ll not feed you so much if you get lazy with your tasks. Your room and board are not free; I’ll have you know.” Sylvie laid a generous dollop of dung and strutted off. Alphonse laughed brightly and headed into the cottage proper. She kicked off her yard clogs, which lifted her feet free of mud and debris, and lined them alongside the stoop. It wouldn't do to track mess into the kitchen. Setting her basket aside, she splashed her hands in the basin of clean water and looked around the empty c
ottage with a soft sigh.
She had gotten many of her chores done already, and so it seemed the rest of the day would be a quiet one. Perhaps she could read the book Etienne had sent in his last package. She had looked at it once and thought it too heavy to be light reading, but now with free time on her hands… Alphonse dried her hands on her apron and tried to remember where she had put the text.
༄
Enyo’s latest errand had been blessedly bloodless.
The Goddess had thrown open the doors of the little cottage Delyth shared with Alphonse almost three weeks prior, demanding that the winged warrior fulfill her oath. Only to send Delyth flying all the way down to Aberdwyr for something no more important than a few bottles of fine coastal wine.
As far as errands for Enyo went, it was almost pleasant. Long days of nothing but flying along the jagged peaks of the Brig’ian Mountains.
Almost like freedom.
And the people of Aberdwyr, used to visitors of all shapes, did not pay so much attention to Delyth’s wings. She’d found them welcoming and generous, though she had not stayed long. Already she missed Alphonse and their little cottage and even the ridiculous chickens.
That had been nearly a week and a half ago.
Now Delyth hurtled down from the great peak on which Thlonandras was being reconstructed, her wings half-tucked and her ears popping from the quick descent. She longed for the warm air of the valley below, the first sign that she was finally nearing home.
She could have crowed when she felt it, but instead, she saved her breaths for flying. It was early yet. Would Alphonse be out in the garden? Or could Delyth surprise her in the house?
Soon, the town of Nyth’draig passed beneath her, gone in the space of a few wing beats. The cottage was just a little further, tucked behind one of the hills to the town’s east.
When she finally landed, Delyth stepped over Bram, where she lay in the path leading up to the door and checked for Margot. She wasn’t letting the creature in. Even if Alphonse said the stoic thing looked like her.
With no sign of the chicken near the front of the house, Delyth flung the front door open, every inch of the sunny interior seeming to welcome her, though it was Alphonse that she really longed to see.
“Aderyn bak,” Delyth said, her voice warm in greeting.
The healer was standing in the kitchen, in a simple, becoming dress and little petals tangled in her tawny hair. Beautiful. As she always was.
Delyth didn’t hesitate to go to her, arms held out for an embrace.
The healer fussed with her apron, blushing even after two years of living together. Her face was lit up with a smile, and she slipped her arms about Delyth’s waist. Delyth pressed her lips to Alphonse’s, the corners still wide with a smile. When she broke away, it was with a teasing squeeze. “You’ve been playing in the laurels.” She lifted one of the delicate purple petals and held it up to show Alphonse. “Did you have to go chasing the chickens through them? Or was it just for fun?”
Alphonse reached up to touch her hair and shook her head. “I would have rather been chasing you.” The healer wore an uncharacteristically sly half-smile and looked up at Delyth through her lashes. Standing on her tiptoes, Alphonse kissed Delyth again. “Did you want breakfast? Or luncheon? I have several eggs here…”
Delyth tilted her head as if considering the question and slipped the harness holding Enyo’s great black blade to her back off so she could lean the thing against the wall. Then she stepped towards Alphonse, sliding up behind her to wrap her arms about the healer’s waist.
“Hmmm… no. I don’t think I’d like breakfast or luncheon.” She moved in closer and brushed her lips against the side of Alphonse’s neck, the healer turning a most becoming shade of pink. “You could always chase me now.”
The healer turned to nuzzle against Delyth’s throat as well. Her hands wandered over Delyth’s ribs and down to her hips. “Should I cover my eyes or something to give you a head start?” she whispered. “Maybe I’ll count to ten. That seems fair.” Her hands were already fumbling with Delyth’s belt.
Delyth laughed, eager and bubbling. “Alright, a ten-second head start, and you can’t peek.”
That was if Alphonse would let go of her clothes long enough to cover her eyes.
The warrior took her lover’s hands in her own and placed lingering kisses on the healer’s soft palms before pressing them to her cheeks.
“Ten whole seconds, remember. No cheating.” She kissed Alphonse’s lips again, sweetly, teasingly.
The healer sighed laboriously, as though this were some great task, her gaze following Delyth’s mouth against her palms with avid fascination. Alphonse closed her eyes, covering them for good measure.“One...Two… Three…”
Delyth took two careful steps back, then turned around, fighting with the laces of her jerkin.“Not so fast!”
Alphonse chuckled. “Fouuuuuurrrrr…”
Delyth was laughing even as she got it off, leaving it carelessly on the floor in front of Alphonse. She left her boots a few paces farther on, her trousers in the hallway to their room. Her underthings in the doorway.
What number was Alphonse on now? Should she hide? Or just sit on the bed and wait to be found? Hastily, she stood behind the door and hid behind a wing.
When Alphonse did not immediately come, Delyth lowered her wing and peeked through the crack between the door and its frame.
What was she up to? The ten seconds had surely passed. Whatever it was, she was eager to find out. She tucked her wing back over herself and smiled into the darkness.
“Ah ha!” Alphonse pulled the door away with a triumphant chortle. Delyth shivered happily at the brush of fingers down her wing and lifted it to see Alphonse standing in nothing but her loincloth and Delyth’s jerkin.
The warrior swallowed, surprised by the sudden transformation. On Delyth, the jerkin was a utilitarian part of her wardrobe. On Alphonse, it was something else entirely. She’d never seen the healer in anything so… sultry. It highlighted the shape of Alphonse’s curves. Her breasts pooled over the leather neckline, and her hair tumbled down about her shoulders.
The healer pivoted in a slow circle as if she knew exactly the sort of effect she was having on her lover. When she’d turned to face Delyth again, the warrior stepped forward to catch her with a hand at her hip, just below the edge of the jerkin.
“Vixen,” she laughed. “Gorgeous, tricky creature.”Delyth kissed her neck again, then ran the pad of her forefinger along the neckline of the jerkin, dipping slightly at the line between Alphonse’s breasts. “So that’s why you had me waiting…” Gods, her belly was tightening, her breath coming quicker.
❀
Alphonse quivered in delight as Delyth moved closer, the warrior’s fingers firm against her skin. Goosebumps followed in the wake of her tracing touch. “It was difficult to fit into the jerkin,” she murmured, smiling lazily up at Delyth, lips parting as she let her own hands roam over Deltyh’s shoulders and long, lovely neck. To push through her dark hair and then over those sublime wings. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting, Delyth...How can I make it up to you?” Slowly Alphonse pivoted, stepping back towards their bed.
“Make it up to me?” Delyth repeated, a little breathless. “I think you already have…” She followed Alphonse back until they were at the edge of the mattress, then half-fell, half-lowered them both back onto it. Gently, Delyth brushed the healer’s tawny locks away from her face and throat before kissing her again. “Gods,” Delyth groaned, “I'm going to have to find a way to make these trips for Enyo shorter. Fly faster, maybe? Get Etienne to teach me to disappear and reappear at will?”
“I’ll write to him tomorrow.”Alphonse tangled her fingers into Delyth’s hair as her lover’s lips moved southward. Each kiss felt like a little shock of sunshine, leaving her warm and radiant.
Alphonse had missed the warrior terribly. Not just in bed. She had missed their meals together and the quiet nights when the fire was crackli
ng, and Alphonse worked on her knitting, and Delyth whittled figurines for the village children Alphonse treated.
She had missed the weight of Delyth’s arm about her waist as she slept and the smell of her rain-washed hair in the dark nights.
She had missed the way Delyth’s steady blue eyes would track Alphonse about the kitchen or the garden and the way her soft words sunk into the healer’s soul like stones in a pond.
Of course, she had also missed Delyth’s body against her own, her lips brushing against Alphonse’s and the luxurious feel of her fingers tracing over the healer's skin.
༄
Delyth found the jerkin’s ties and pulled them gently free until she could press the leather garment open. She sat up a moment and marveled at the beauty lying with her.
They had come so terribly far to get here, to live quietly, warm and happy. And Delyth had never felt so safe and cared for. Even with the regular need to leave. She sighed. It had been too long since she had told Alphonse just how lovely she was, how wonderful.
So Delyth resolved to show her.
She leaned close again to kiss her way down Alphonse’s body.“Del…” she mumbled, eyes closing as Delyth’s lips pressed against her, pausing in strategic places. Her hips, nuzzling against the planes of Alphonse’s belly, one finger slipping beneath the hem of her loincloth.
“I love you,” the healer murmured into the peaceful quiet of their bedroom.
Delyth looked up from where she’d been pressing kisses to the insides of Alphonse’s thighs and smiled, her chest swelling.
“I love you.”
The words meant as much now as the day Delyth had fist braided the hawk feather into her hair. More, even, with the rest of their lives to say it ahead of them.
Hooking her fingers into the hem of Alphonse’s loincloth, Delyth slipped the garment gently off her and kneeled on the floor of their bedroom to draw more I love yous in the skin of her thighs and the places in between.