His dream returned to him. In the clear light of morning, it seemed less important than it had when he was dreaming it. It certainly made a change to have a pleasant dream. And he owed it all to Iliana. It was good to recall that close quarter drilling with his cousins had been a source of pleasure and comradeship.
The Eldest demanded a high level of skill and physical fitness from all his sword bearers. After all, their primary function was to guard Lord Lindorm from attack. Perhaps the risk of physical assault was low in this modern world, but Lindorms maintained their battle readiness.
The truth was that like most young men, Jareth loved training in company with other young men. Whether in dragon or in human form. That was the only time he felt as he supposed warriors were supposed to feel: vigorous, strong, brave. Although as an officer he was no more than mediocre, he also felt that way about his naval training.
He supposed dreams weren’t supposed to make much sense. But it was good to have one that did not seem to herald insanity. With a last regretful look at his mate, he took himself off to get dressed in his own room. He had to see if Iliana’s engagement rings had arrived. He desperately needed to seal their bond with a ring.
Dragons were possessive of their valuables. And nothing was more valuable than one’s mate. Iliana was his now. He wanted his ring on her finger to tell the world so. Not a modern sentiment, nor one befitting an enlightened Swede. But he could not extinguish this aspect of his character. It was a good thing he had many rings at his disposal. More than she had fingers.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Iliana~
She was alone when she woke. Memories of the night rushed back. Jareth had shown her the difference between making love and rutting. She had enjoyed it. More than enjoyed it. But she could not see how she was going to get a baby without drilling. But this blissful feeling was too wonderful to regret.
She felt too good to complain – much. If she had to be a mortal and belong to a man, she was glad it was one like Jareth who was kind and knew many tricks of bed sport. He seemed to like her new body with its small breasts and jiggly flesh more than she did. That was fair. She liked his hard new body with all those extra muscles. Even if he did tower over her now.
The sleeping costume veiled her and made her pale skin looked flushed and rosy. Enticing. Of course he had not actually seen her in it. Last night he had pleasured her through the garment. In truth she had not been cold. This house was deliciously warm at all times. And Jareth her own personal fireplace. Possibly Anna and Lexi had known that.
If she could only find her sister, she would be perfectly happy. However, she had many blessings already: her soul, a husband, and the prospect of never again spending a night in an icy stream. Jareth had promised her a warm home and a baby. And they had shared something special last night. And perhaps would again. She must not be greedy.
It was unlikely she could have all this and also get her sister back. How could she expect even a dragon lord to defeat Rán? And yet now that she had a soul, it seemed she longed ever more ardently for Myst. More fully remembered their sisterly love for one another. All these new feelings were very strange and disturbing. She went to breakfast resolved to rejoice in what she had rather than sigh for what she had not.
Jareth and Theo had eaten and gone on some mysterious errand. So much for their mystical bond. Lexi showed Iliana that Sofie had learned to clap with her feet. She let Iliana hold the babbling infant while Sofie demonstrated her new skill. She clapped her soles in time with the songs being sung to her.
“What a clever baby,” cooed Iliana.
Sofie cooed a string of nonsense back and blinked her large blue eyes.
“What a flirt she is,” Jareth had come in without Iliana noticing. He sat beside Iliana and kissed both her and the baby briskly before helping himself to coffee. “What would you like to do today?”
She froze. She wished to look for a house. But that seemed a rude request before their hostess. Iliana smiled nervously. “I am not sure.”
“You need a ring,” declared Jareth.
“Do I?”
“Oh, yes.” Jareth drained his mug. He seemed extraordinarily cheerful this morning. “It’s traditional for married people to wear rings. And it is usual to give a woman a ring to indicate an engagement.” He opened a small carved wooden box. Several rings were jumbled in it. Including the ring she had tempted him with.
Jareth picked it out and showed it to Lexi. “Is it still enchanted?” he asked.
Lexi shook her head. “Does it feel bespelled to you?”
“No. Would you like to wear it?” he asked Iliana.
She shook her head. “It is for you to wear.” She held out her hand for it.
It was as Lexi said. Her love charm had evaporated. However, she could feel the value of the stone and sense the emotions of all the people who had ever touched it. “It feels different,” she said. “But it has more history than I had realized, if that makes sense?”
“Perfect sense,” said Jareth. “It is very old – at least by human standards. And dragons can feel the antiquity and history of precious objects.” He gulped and squared his shoulders. “I will wear it if you wish me to.”
He didn’t want to be claimed by her after all. “It’s too small,” she pointed out. She handed Sofie back to Lexi so she could look at the rings in Jareth’s little box without worrying about the baby eating one.
Jareth held out his left hand. “If you place it on my finger, it will grow to fit it. Another talent of dragons.”
“Are you sure?”
“It would be my honor to wear your ring,” he said. “Although I will have to take it off when I am on active duty with the Navy.”
She slid it onto the finger he held out. The wrong finger. As he had said, the ring expanded to fit. “Surely it should go on your forefinger?” she worried.
“That is another custom that has changed, Iliana,” Lexi said. She held up her left hand where a pair of rings gleamed on the third finger. One had a diamond as large as her fingernail. She rose from the table smiling. “This one needs a fresh diaper.” She slipped away.
Jareth leaned over and kissed her passionately. “Thank you,” he said. “Now you choose one for yourself.”
There were so many. “Where did these come from?” she asked.
“They belonged to my mother and grandmother,” he said.
“And you just happened to have them with you?” Iliana asked.
“I sent to Lind Island for them,” he said. “One of my cousins brought them this morning.” He tapped a large creamy pearl surrounded by small glittering diamonds. The wide band was silvery bright. “Do you like this one?”
She did. It seemed somehow prettier than the others. She began to try it on. He covered her hand. “Let me,” he said. “Unless you would prefer another one?”
“I like this one.” The others did not call to her. She didn’t know why.
He slid it onto the fourth finger of her left hand and murmured a few words as he kissed it and her knuckle. It was very valuable. The band not made of silver, but platinum. She touched it nervously. “And now we are married?”
He was startled. “Not at all. We are now formally engaged to be married. We will have a wedding ceremony with all my family in a couple of months. I will wear my dress uniform and you will get to wear a beautiful dress. We will exchange other rings. Afterward we will feast and dance.”
Her warm feeling vanished. “Oh. I thought we were married. That I already belonged to you.”
“It would be more accurate to say that we belong to one another.”
That was a new way of putting it. An evasive way. “What does that mean?”
Jareth hugged her and kissed her again, long and thoroughly. “It means that as long as we both live we are bound to each other. That we will be faithful to one another and always try to make each other happy.”
“I can do that.” Another doubt chilled her blood. “Will you have bed slave
s?”
He choked. “No. Never. Being faithful means we sleep only with each other. And make love only with each other.”
She kept her eyes on her ring as she asked the question in her heart. “And drilling?”
“Drilling?”
She put her lips to his ear. “When you put your cock in my pussy and make a baby.”
He lifted her from her chair to his lap. She could feel his thing – his cock – pressing against her bottom and thighs like the great borer of a hero in a saga. “Are you worried because we did not have intercourse last night?” He spoke softly against her head.
“What is this intercourse?” she whispered back.
His entire body stiffened. He held his breath and then released it in an explosive laugh. He hugged her more tightly. “It’s just a fancy word for what you refer to as drilling. Sometimes when we make love we will have intercourse. Last night was about giving you pleasure and showing you that sex doesn’t have to hurt or be hurried.”
“Oh.” She thought. “I did like it. And it didn’t hurt.” She poked his chest. “Don’t laugh at me.”
“Can I laugh at myself?”
“I suppose,” she said suspiciously.
“I thought last night had shown you that our souls share a bond.” He tapped her ring. “That is supposed to signify our soul-deep connection.”
“What about yours?”
“It means the same. I belong to you, as you belong to me. Always and forever.” He kissed her. A claiming kiss. The kiss of a warrior home from a long and dangerous voyage.
Did that mean he loved her? As she loved him. She wished he would say. “Oh. And then we’ll have a baby?”
“If you aren’t careful you’ll make me think you see me just as a sperm donor.” He kissed her hard.
She had no idea what he could mean, but she angled into his kiss. She had to trust that he would not want to make love on the breakfast table. But they could always return to her room.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Bradur
Darius~
“Is she still asleep?” Darius Lindorm asked his wife. Freya was sitting by the kitchen fire in her favorite chair, her usual serenity flown.
“She is. And she shall stay asleep,” declared Freya, crossing her arms. “I am sorry for Myst, you know I am, but I cannot have her making trouble between my brothers. In a thousand years, they never quarreled. Not once. And now!”
“It is past a joke,” he admitted. “It was comical when Valdar claimed her, less so when she showed a preference for Brand.”
Freya pressed her lips into a flat line. “Myst claims to have been a nixie. I believe her. They are all mischief-makers. Valdar actually challenged Brand to a fight.”
“A fistfight,” Darius said. “No weapons were drawn, and none will be. I told them it made you unhappy to have them at loggerheads.” His brothers-in-law were quite capable of injuring one another with their battle axes or broadswords, but he had with great difficulty dissuaded them from conjuring weapons.
“The twins have always been the best of friends,” she said.
“I know. But it is not Myst’s fault they are fighting over her. Or at least not precisely.” It was largely Darius’ fault for telling her that she was free to choose her own husband. Twenty-First Swedish values had run aground on the Viking customs of Freya’s brothers.
Freya narrowed her eyes. “I don’t believe that for a single moment. She sets them at each other’s throats quite deliberately. If you had heard the caterwauling when she got a glimpse of herself in my mirror. She enjoys the effect she has on men.”
“Your magic mirror?” He had given Freya a hand mirror to replace the one she had broken. Predictably, her sorcery had transformed it into an oracle.
“No. The one in the bathroom. Apparently she has lost her beauty and her powers both.” Freya snorted. “She says she used to be tall and beautiful and as red-haired as I am.”
“Might be true,” Darius said. “But Myst is pretty enough with those hazel eyes and brown hair. And even though she is short, Valdar is smitten.”
“He is not,” said Valdar’s fond sister. “He just wants to have a wife. Or a bedmate. He is tired of being alone. They both are.”
The sound of an infant crying made Darius rise to his feet, glad this argument had been interrupted. “I’ll fetch whichever one is awake,” he offered.
Freya stood up. “I might as well go upstairs. If one is awake, they will all be.”
She was right. Their three daughters all roused if one did. “You have to admit that Myst makes a pretty good nurse. It’s nice to have an extra pair of hands in the house, isn’t it? The girls like her too.”
“Nixies steal babies,” muttered Freya.
“Myst is no longer a nixie. And I would not let anyone harm our daughters. Besides where would she go? She has no home. And no power.”
“So she claims. I know you would not let her harm the girls. But I worry. Nixies have no souls, you know? How can we believe anything she says?”
Darius followed her up the staircase. “She’s no longer a nixie.”
“Doesn’t mean she got her soul back,” argued Freya fiercely. She opened the door to the nursery.
A brown-haired woman dressed in green homespun, as was Freya, was bent over the changing table tickling a babbling infant. She gave them a shy smile. “Gerta woke up,” she whispered. “I picked her up so she wouldn’t wake her sisters.” The baby shrieked with joy at the sight of her mother.
Freya gave Darius a pointed look. He understood that she was annoyed that her sleeping spell had not kept Myst in bed. But it did not mean she had magical powers. There was only so much a sleeping spell could accomplish without harming the recipient. And Freya did not work black magic.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked their guest.
“As soundly as if I had not been asleep for centuries. I don’t understand it.” Myst fastened Gerta’s diaper and tucked the baby’s legs back into her sleeper. She put the baby on her shoulder. Gerta crowed with glee and held out both hands to her mother. Myst sighed and passed her to Freya.
Freya sat down in the rocking chair and unbuttoned her dress. The baby latched on and began to suck. Her sisters both woke up and shouted. Darius took one and Myst the other.
“Who’s a good girl,” the former nixie cooed to Hilde. She carried her to the changing table. “Does she get formula this time?” she asked Darius.
“No, it’s her turn to nurse. Elsa gets a bottle.”
“You are so lucky having such lovely babies.” Myst bounced Hilde who began to wail. She cupped the baby’s foot. “Mamma will soon be ready for you,” she whispered. She began to sing a song of breathtaking beauty and the baby stopped fussing and listened wide-eyed.
It really wasn’t hard to see why both Brand and Valdar wanted Myst. It was harder to see what he and Freya were going to do with her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Jareth~
The hallucination struck right there in the breakfast parlor with sunlight streaming into the room and his lap full of fragrant, willing dragoness.
At least it was not the all too familiar scene of watery death. He was flying. This time with Iliana. Her stubby wings had lengthened. She now possessed all the elegance and graceful strength of an adult dragoness. Her body was long and muscular, her limbs fully developed. Her scales seemed harder and more iridescent too. Best of all, she smelled pregnant.
The moon turned the dancing ocean below them to glittering silver that reflected the sky full of stars. A scrap of forested rock towered from the waves, almost black in the midnight air. Brisk winds filled their wings and carried them closer and closer to the island he had dreamed of before.
Iliana darted ahead of him and then circled playfully, nudging him and urging him faster. He angled into the wind and let it carry him ahead of her. Her merry whistling made his heart stir. He floated high, propelled as much by love as by the breeze, and echoed her love song back
to her.
“What’s happening?” Iliana cried.
His vision vanished. Instead of waves and rocks he saw the remains of their breakfast. The air was warm and instead of the smell of the sea, the scent of his mate filled his nostrils. His frightened mate. Her cry still echoed in his ears.
“I had a waking nightmare,” he explained, cuddling her. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, my dear. I thought they had gone away like the nighttime ones.”
“I saw it too,” she said. “We were flying over the ocean. But I didn’t know where we were.”
“You shared my dream?” Horror seized him. Had he infected Iliana with his madness? Caused her to also hallucinate?
She relaxed against his chest. “When you began to dream, I dreamed too. I could hear the waves and the seagulls and feel the wind beneath my wings. I wonder what it means.”
“Nothing whatsoever,” he said bitterly. “They never do.”
“What do you mean?”
“I often have waking dreams. Usually they are just versions of my nighttime ones. And they mean as little.”
She patted his shoulder. “I wonder.”
“Except for the one where you asked me for help, they have all been meaningless terrors.” He had had many years to learn that lesson.
“I was in no dream,” she corrected. “I showed myself to you in the stream to entice you.”
“And sent voices that shrieked like a wailing wind?” he asked in horror.
“No.” She nestled closer against his still thudding heart. “I was trying to woo you, not drive you away. No wonder you looked appalled.”
“Huh.”
“That wicked wight sent the voices,” she declared passionately, “To prevent our meeting.”
“Probably.”
“Just as she visited you at night to torment you with your parents’ death. Fortunately she did not succeed. But whatever we saw did not feel in the least like your evil dream. We were happy flying together beneath the stars.”
Dragon Ensnared_A Viking Dragon Fairy Tale Page 11