by Aiken G. A.
Things that she had to admit—at least to herself—she loved to hear even while they made her uncomfortable.
“We still have to retrieve my father,” Braith said, trying to change the subject.
“Trying to change the subject, I see,” Addolgar announced.
Bastard.
“Well, we do need to retrieve him.”
“I know. And we will.”
“You seem awfully confident about that.”
“Your father has not decided to spend his life in the Northlands. I’ve been to the Northlands, Braith. It’s nothing but snow and ice and miserable dragons and humans. Your father may be a miserable bastard, but he wants the Southlands. The Northlands is not what he wants, and he has to know he’s not strong enough to ever get them. He couldn’t even manage his own daughter much less a bloody Lightning Horde. So I have no doubts we’ll find him. Now kiss me,” he ordered.
“You are awfully surly this morning.”
“The pain in my leg is brutal. My head hurts because I think I’m hungover from your aunt’s blasted ale. And you haven’t kissed me yet. So, aye, I am surly. I’m allowed to be surly!”
A sentiment bellowed at Braith. And one that made her giggle.
“What’s so funny?” he grumbled.
“You’re much more terrifying when you’re cheerful. When you’re surly, you just sound like a cranky hatchling.” She thought a moment before adding, “Like Bercelak.”
“There’s no need to be so bloody rude, Braith of the Darkness!”
Her smile lit up the chamber and it brought Addolgar joy to see it. But he was feeling very cranky because he was in pain, so he refused to tell her any of that. Instead, he snapped, “You should have gone after your father yesterday while he was still on Outer Plains territory. Like I told you to.”
“And left you to die?”
“If necessary.”
“That would have been bloody stupid.”
“The fact is that now we’ll have to travel deep into Northland territory to retrieve your father.”
“You said he wouldn’t go there.”
“I said he wouldn’t stay there. I didn’t say he wouldn’t go there. But we can’t wait for him to return here with a bloody Lightning Horde at his back.”
“I don’t know why you’re getting angry at me. When we discussed this last night—”
“Last night I was drunk on that demon wine your aunts make! This morning I see everything quite clearly!”
“Well, you know what else you can see clearly?” she snarled. “My ass! As I walk away!”
Then she was off the bed and gone from the chamber, leaving him alone, in pain, and still cranky.
Surprisingly, yelling at her had not made him feel any better.
Braith walked until she’d found her way outside. Once she stood under the early morning suns, she took in a deep breath of the cool Outer Plains air and tried to stop herself from going back inside and pummeling Addolgar the Brainless. Because he deserved a right good pummeling!
“Good morn, cousin.”
Braith turned and saw three of her cousins sunning themselves on boulders. Like lizards. Lizards in human form.
“What are you doing?” Braith asked.
“Enjoying the suns,” replied one.
“It gives our scales a lovely bright hue,” said another.
Braith blinked. “Except you’re all in your human form. So how does that help your scales?”
They stared at her for several seconds before one stated, “You’re a bit of a know-it-all, aren’t you?”
“How is that . . .” Braith shook her head. She wouldn’t go from arguing with one idiot to arguing with three.
When Braith didn’t say anything, one of her cousins asked, “Do you think your father would have really killed you if our mums tried to contact you?”
“Yes,” Braith said plainly. She’d accepted the truth of that late in the evening as Addolgar had slept beside her.
“That’s so sad.”
Braith shrugged. “Eh.” She could no longer dig up the energy to care about what her father did, would do, or would like to do. If he’d had his chance, he probably would have strangled her as soon as she’d hatched, but he’d always been a bit terrified of her mum. With good reason. Her mother would have twisted his head around until it popped off his shoulders if he’d ever touched Braith.
“Well, uh . . .”
“Braith,” Braith filled in for them.
“We remember. I think I remember playing with you when we were hatchlings. You’re Braith, and I’m Caron, Crystin’s eldest. This is Ffraid, Owena’s middle daughter. And this is Delyth, Aledwen’s eldest.”
“We’re glad you’re here, cousin,” Ffraid told Braith. “Our mums worried over you constantly. So now maybe they’ll shut up about you.”
For some reason, the muttered words made Braith chuckle.
“And now that you’re safe with us,” Ffraid went on, “we can show your father what it really means to fuck with the House of Penarddun.”
“Aye,” Caron agreed. “Once we get your father back here, we’ll deal with him.”
“Get him back here?” Braith asked.
“Aye. Mum sent out Heledd—that’s Aledwen’s younger daughter you chatted with last night—and two of Ffraid’s sisters. They’re good trackers. They’ll track him. And once we know where the bastard is, together we’ll hunt him down and show him that Queen Addiena should be the least of his fears.”
Braith stepped closer to her cousins. “Hunt him down . . . together?”
“Oh, luv,” Caron said sadly, “do you still care about what happens to your father?”
“No,” Braith said flatly. “I guess I’m just trying to understand. All of you will be coming with me and Addolgar . . . into Horde territory to help me bring in my father?”
The three She-dragons sat up and gazed at Braith.
“Of course that’s what we mean,” Delyth replied. “You’re no longer in this alone, Braith of the Darkness. You’re one of us.”
“And that bastard father of yours no longer holds your safety over our heads,” Ffraid added.
“But I wouldn’t worry, cousin,” Caron said, lifting her face up toward the sunlight and closing her eyes. “He’ll be out of your life soon enough and then you can decide what you’ll do next.”
“Do next?”
“Like move here with us for training,” Delyth said.
“Or spend your time with that hunk of Cadwaladr meat.”
“Oh. Uh . . . yeah, uh . . .”
“Look!” Ffraid crowed. “She’s blushing!”
“I am not!” Braith shot back.
“You are! It’s so cute!”
“I am not cute!”
“Of course you’re not, luv,” Caron told her. “You’re a Penarddun. No one will call us beautiful or heart-stopping—”
“Oh, no,” Ffraid cut in. “They do call Penardduns heart stoppers.”
When her cousins said nothing, “Get it?”
That’s when they started laughing at a confused Ffraid. “What?” she asked. “Wait. Are you laughing at me or at my joke? Because my joke is quite witty.”
Fed up with sitting around, feeling miserable and still cranky, Addolgar threw his legs over the side of the bed.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Owena asked as she walked into the chamber with another jug of that cursed ale.
“I’m getting up. I can’t sit around, doing nothing—”
“That’s exactly what you’re going to do until that leg heals.”
Addolgar stood up, felt pain shoot through his leg and right into his back, making his head hurt even more. He ignored it. “My leg’s healed enough,” he lied.
Owena sighed and stepped back. “Oy!” she called out. “The Mountain is trying to walk on that leg.”
Addolgar stopped, focused on Owena. “The Mountain?”
“What do you want us to call you?”
“
By my name?”
“Eh,” Owena said, sounding just like her niece.
Three more of Braith’s aunts walked into the chamber.
“What’s going on?” Crystin asked.
“I think he’s trying to leave,” Owena answered.
“Where are you trying to go, Mountain?”
“Stop calling me Mountain. We have to find Emyr. If you hadn’t realized, your niece’s life depends on returning him to the Queen.”
“Oh, for the sake of the gods,” Crystin sighed out. “This is already being handled.”
Addolgar, now hopping around on one leg trying to reach his travel bags and the human clothes within, asked, “Handled?”
“We have our best trackers hunting down that ponce as we speak. If they can’t bring the idiot back themselves, we’ll do it, kick him around a bit, and then pass him off to your precious Queen to finish him.”
Resting his hands on a wooden chair, Addolgar looked over at the four She-dragons. Like Braith, they were all tall with strong shoulders and necks, powerful legs, and bright eyes, but, he sensed, there was an inherent lack of understanding among them that he hadn’t had to worry about with Braith. She understood things quite clearly. But the She-dragons of the House of Penarddun as a whole . . .
Addolgar just didn’t know. He knew little of royals, but the ones he’d had any dealings with were nothing like these females. The Penardduns had no servants, wore mostly trousers when they were human, and liked to brawl. With each other. True, he really liked that about them, but it still had him very worried.
“The trackers you sent,” he said, “they weren’t your daughters, were they?”
“Of course they were. Our daughters are the best trackers you’ll ever find.”
Addolgar briefly dropped his head. When he was in a better mood, he’d probably handle this with more skill. But he was in pain and cranky.
“You let your daughters go into Northland territory? Horde territory? With Lightnings? The dragons who kidnap our females, cut off one of their wings, and force them to be their mates?”
Owena frowned. “I thought they didn’t do that anymore.”
“Of course they do!” Addolgar bellowed. “They just took Davon the Elegant from her kin’s cave. And you lot sent your defenseless daughters to face them! Alone!”
“Ohhhh,” Crystin said. “So we need big, strong males like you to protect us from big, strong males? Is that it?”
Addolgar wagged a finger at Crystin. “I have sisters, Lady Crystin. And you’ll not trick me with that one.”
Owena walked toward him. “Don’t worry about our daughters, Mountain—”
“Please don’t call me that.”
“—they’ll be just fine. They know how not to be seen. Especially by big, strong males of any species. So you can get back into bed.”
“I’ve made up my mind,” he insisted.
That’s when all four females moved toward him until they surrounded him. Owena pointed at the bed.
“Get over there.”
“No. You can’t make me.”
“Oh, dear boy,” Crystin told him sadly. “Yes. We can.”
Devouring several pieces of bacon she’d snatched from a plate on the table, Braith walked toward the chamber where Addolgar was resting. As she walked, she passed all her aunts and cousins heading in the opposite direction.
“Where are you all off to?” she asked.
“Going into town for a bit. Get a few supplies. Need anything?”
Braith shook her head. “I’m fine. Thanks. Did you check with Addolgar, though?”
Her Aunt Crystin stopped, blinked at her. “Uh-huh. He’s fine.”
“All right,” Braith said around the delicious, chewy bacon in her mouth. She continued on. She wasn’t in the mood for another fight with Addolgar, so she only planned to pass the chamber and glance in to make sure he was sleeping or, at the very least, hadn’t rolled off the bed in a fit of Cadwaladr rage.
And, as planned, she glanced in and kept walking....
Then Braith stopped, blinked, looked around, and, finally, took several steps back until she arrived at the chamber opening.
“Not a word,” he growled. “Not a bloody word.”
Taking another bite of bacon, Braith sauntered into the chamber until she reached the bed. She gazed down at Addolgar.
“Comfortable?” she asked.
“Leave off.”
“Just want to make sure you’re comfortable, Sergeant.” She leaned over and carefully studied the chains that had his arms secured to the bed. “Oh, poor lad.” She leaned back, shook her head sadly. “These aren’t dwarven steel, I’m afraid. You could probably break through dwarven steel like I did.” She bit the inside of her mouth to keep from laughing when Addolgar rolled his eyes. “This is Volcano dragon steel. Even a Penarddun can’t break Volcano steel.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he demanded.
“Of course not. I’m sure this was done in your best interest.” She smirked. “Did you try to leave? Did you find out they sent my cousins into Northland territory?”
“Even you have to know that was foolish.”
“They didn’t ask me. But at least my cousins are not wounded. Can’t fight anyone with that leg of yours.”
“It’s healing.”
“I’m sure it is. But it’ll be even better tomorrow.”
Addolgar snarled, looking off.
“Don’t be mad at me,” Braith told him. “I didn’t chain you up.”
“But you would have.”
“If it would allow you to heal properly so you can adequately back me up in a fight—damn right I would.”
He glowered at her. “Did you know?”
She took another bite of bacon before asking, “Know what?”
“That your kin has started calling me The Mountain?”
The snort and the bacon she’d been chewing were out of her mouth before she could even think to stop them, so when both hit Addolgar full in the face, she could tell he was not happy about it.
“Get out,” he ordered.
“Addolgar—”
“Just go.”
“You’re being unreasonable.” She dropped the rest of the bacon on the plate of untouched meat Owena had placed on the side table earlier and wiped her hands off on her trousers.
“I know you’re in pain,” she said.
“I’m fine.”
“And that you’re anxious and miserable. I understand all that.”
“You understand nothing, heartless female.”
“But we’re all just trying to take care of you.”
“By tying me to the bed? Is that what Daughters of the House of Penarddun call taking care of the wounded?”
“They only did that to protect you.”
“And you’re full of massive shi—”
“Addolgar the Cheerful!” she barked, mostly so she wouldn’t laugh. “Watch how you speak to me, Low Born!”
“Finally,” he grumbled. “Signs that you are, actually, a bloody royal.”
“I am a royal. Royal blood runs through my veins, and my aunts say that my mother left me a vast fortune that my father didn’t know about. Now it’s all mine. They’ve been saving it for me. A dragon’s hoard of jewels and gold, just for me.”
“What is your point in telling me this?”
“So you’ll know that I’m a powerful royal now with all my gold.”
“And?”
“You better be nice to me.”
“Or what?” he challenged, his dark silver brows pulled low, his brown eyes annoyed. Addolgar the Cheerful was definitely a healer’s nightmare. He was always in such good spirits that when he was truly wounded or ill, he just became an incorrigible baby.
A handsome, adorable, incorrigible baby.
Braith moved to the foot of the bed and using one finger, stroked it down the arch of Addolgar’s foot, then using three fingers, she slipped her hand under the cover and stroked ca
refully across Addolgar’s bandaged ankle and up his calf.
“What are you doing?” he asked as she, and her hand, moved forward.
“Amusing myself as powerful royals are allowed to do.” She dragged her fingers up his inside thigh. “Are you, Low Born, saying I’m not allowed to amuse myself with you?”
Still frowning, Addolgar stared at her, clearly confused. Until the back of her hand brushed against his cock, and his entire body jerked in surprise. His frown slowly faded and he gazed at her with wide eyes.
“Well,” she pushed, “am I not allowed to amuse myself with you?”
Addolgar cleared his throat, shook his head. “Of course you are . . . powerful royal. Amuse yourself all you’d like.”
When had Braith become this brazen little wench who couldn’t seem to stop smiling and touching his cock? Not that he minded her being a brazen little wench. He liked her a lot. Perhaps more than he should. But now he knew he’d been right all along. Braith had been missing something. But now, back with her kin, a part of them, she was whole once more. And being whole would make anyone happy.
And a happy Braith was a Braith who brazenly put her hand under his fur covering and stroked his cock.
Her fingers strong and firm, she smiled as she watched him.
“Unchain me, Braith,” he ordered, desperate to get his hands on her. To drag her to the bed and take her, hard and fast.
But Braith’s reply was a simple, “No.”
“What do you mean no?”
“No,” she said again, her hand still stroking him.
“Dammit, Braith, get these chains off me!”
“No.”
“I’ll tear this bed apart,” he threatened.
“And then you’ll have to answer to my aunts. They’re very proud of this bed. Ripped some poor bloke’s castle apart, stone by stone, to get it, too. Do you want to tell them what happened to their bed when they get back?”
Growling and seriously annoyed, Addolgar still had to admit, “No. I do not.”
“That’s what I thought.”