Dragon's Christmas Captive_BBW / Dragon Shifter Romance

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Dragon's Christmas Captive_BBW / Dragon Shifter Romance Page 2

by Isadora Montrose


  Theo drew in the frigid air delightedly, enjoying the smell of pine trees and ocean. The scent of home. After months at sea, being here was a treat. He loved Severn Island, even in winter when the wind blasted off the freezing waters of the Gulf of Bothnia, and snow lay waist high. The Gulf and the archipelago that made up Severn Island or Islands, lay between Sweden and Finland, a dragon-shaped cluster of hills and rocks that had been a Lindorm refuge since the Middle Ages.

  In front of him, his father and mother immediately began to fill the crisp air with song. Everyone joined in. Even Gunnar, who couldn’t trust his changing voice, bellowed out the familiar carols and, in forgetting his self-consciousness, achieved a powerful baritone. The songs they were singing were new to Leo, but his piping treble did its best. Theo added his bass as counterpoint, as the family entered the wooded ridge of the island, where the deep snow changed to a mere dusting over a springy carpet of brown pine needles.

  Four-year-old Leo was riding on Victor’s broad shoulders. His clutching hands threatened to pull his father’s hat off. Leo only stopped tugging at the tassel to knock snow off passing tree branches. Anna and Severn walked behind their son and grandson, amused by his mischief.

  Ivan stalked watchfully behind his wife. Despite her pregnancy, Christina was moving briskly, dodging tree roots and stepping across holes dug by animals. But Ivan was plainly alarmed by the uneven trail. Lord Severn nudged his arm and shook his head once. Correctly interpreting this to mean that he shouldn’t offer assistance that would be resented, Ivan kept his hands off his bride and his eyes on the terrain.

  Theo brought up the rear, keeping his eyes peeled for the perfect tree. The song of a trilling redstart lured him off the path and into a grove of trees he did not recall. This wood seemed to have sprung up overnight – although the trees were too tall and large for that to be the case. He stood amidst the column-straight grove, unaware that he had abandoned his family.

  These tall trees were wind-defyingly straight-limbed and symmetrical. Theo couldn’t believe that the others had missed them. He had only to choose the loveliest specimen, and he would have won before lunch.

  The hush was absolute. Peaceful delight and happiness filled him. He neither saw nor heard his noisy family. Not a bird called. Earlier he had seen the distinctive red plumage of several pairs of pine grosbeaks, and heard a redstart. Now, not even their fluting calls disturbed the silence.

  He got his hand-ax out and, without giving the others a second thought, set to work on a blue-green beauty. The trunk was bigger around than his two hands could span but he had no doubt that he could manage it on his own. There were advantages to being over six feet eight inches tall and being built like Viking warrior. His ax bit cleanly into the trunk of the tree and he soon had to unzip his parka as he warmed up.

  Something fierce stung him behind his ear. He batted it away absently. He notched one side of the trunk deeply, before circling to the opposite side. With a shriek like a man in pain, the conifer fell neatly between the other trees – precisely where he had intended it to fall. Theo tied a rope to the trunk and tucked his ax away. There was still complete silence and no sign of his family.

  He whistled loudly for them. He wanted to show off his prize. Another biting insect attacked his neck. It hurt worse than before – as if the pest had injected venom. This time he did not have to drop his ax to smack whatever had stung him. His padded leather glove closed on a bird-sized creature.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Theo opened his fist to cautiously examine his captive. A fat pinecone rested in the hollow of his white glove. Its dark brownish-gray scales were tightly closed. It felt heavy for its size, and it looked like no pinecone he had ever seen before. The tip of every scale suddenly sprouted an inch-long spike that bit through his leather gauntlet. He dropped the pinecone instantly. Instead of falling to the ground, it flew off.

  “How dare you?” shrilled a faint voice.

  Theo turned in a complete circle. He was surrounded by pine trees. Nothing moved. Snow lay thinly on the ground, unmarked except by his own boots. The belligerent, ear-piercing whine grew louder. This time by his right ear. “How dare you, Theodor Lindorm?”

  Theo snatched at his ear and again his fist captured a creature. Instead of a pinecone, he held a bundle of green leaves that exploded on his palm. Even his sharp dragon vision could not focus on it. He grabbed tighter. Gradually, his captive resolved into a tiny female dressed in fluttering layers of green gauze. Tiny, translucent wings grew from her back.

  “You cut down my tree!” Her wrathful words buzzed in the air.

  Theo blinked warily, momentarily distrusting his eyes. Lindorms had lived on this island for a long time. The forests of Finland were supposedly home to myriad forest creatures, including the Haltija or Forest Elves and the Joulutonttu or Christmas Elves. Whichever this miniature female was, it behooved him to show her respect.

  He opened his fist. “Who are you, Fröken?” he asked courteously.

  “I am the guardian of this wood,” the little female announced imperiously. She tossed her head and, seemingly from nowhere, a blazing corkscrew mane of red curls erupted on her head.

  “You cut down my tree, you oaf.” Her words rang like glass chimes. As quick as thought, something bright flashed in one of her bare hands. She stabbed him deep in his palm. “I claim you, Dragon, in recompense for my home!”

  Theo’s howl of pain brought Gunnar and Papa running, as his ax-work and his whistling had not. “What’s the matter?” they asked in mingled surprise and concern. Theo gestured to the tree. His pixie had vanished, leaving only the burning pain in his palm to suggest he had not dreamt her.

  “Oh, Theo,” cried Gunnar, “It’s a beauty – but you should have let Leo help!”

  With a chortling Leo riding astride it, they dragged Theo’s tree home to the long low house built into the side of the hill. They sang as they walked, accompanied by a chiding, swooping redstart that circled Theo and dive-bombed his ski hat.

  * * *

  At least she managed to wound that prick. How dared he laugh at her? Lexi glowered at the Lindorms from the top of her tree. Theo and his brothers had wedged her home into a stand filled with water. Her tree was dying. The needles were still bright green, but beneath the smell of resin was the miasma of death. Theodor Lindorm had destroyed her home.

  He had taken off his outer clothes and was directing the others. Even in a black tee-shirt and jeans, he was overly large. Too tall. Too broad. Too thick. His arms and thighs bulged with muscle as did his chest and shoulders. He looked as much like a marauding pirate as any of his thuggish ancestors. He had seemed smaller before she captured him.

  Perhaps he was too big, after all. But she had chosen, and started the magic. It wasn’t as if there was a better male on offer. The others were mated, or impossibly young. Every now and then her chosen dragon surreptitiously rubbed his right palm on one massive denim-clad thigh. A rusty patch grew as the wound she had made with her trident continued to bleed. Served him right, that mocking tree-murderer.

  The sister and mother came into the drawing room with their arms full of boxes. The youngest brother staggered behind them carrying a red plastic tub that was bigger than he was. Lexi backed deeper into her branch and hid behind a clump of needles. She had transformed herself from a bird into a pinecone, and they weren’t expecting to see a Forest Elf, but why take a chance on dragon vision?

  Her dragons were laughing and teasing one another. The youngest brother wanted them to be sure to leave something he had made in the box. But the mother was laughing as she unwrapped it. She held it up to be admired. It was about Lexi’s size and looked like an ancient pinecone that had been nibbled by squirrels. Peculiar splotches of red clung to it like clumps of fungus. Why would anyone want to save that wretched piece of ugly? Her woods were full of prettier ones by far. Toss it on the fire.

  Theo took the horrid thing out of Lady Severn’s hand. His rich chuckle rolled over Lexi in comf
orting waves. He clapped his brother lightly on the back. “This one isn’t Gunnar’s, Mamma.” He pointed to the base where something was written in faded runes. “I’m responsible for this waste of sentiment and glitter glue.” He feigned crushing it in his fist.

  “Don’t you dare!” Anna Severn smacked his arm. “That belongs to me.” Laughing, she took it back. “You all had an opportunity to make a sparkly pinecone as lovely as Theo’s. We’ll find Gunnar’s.” She placed it on the tree at eye level.

  Theo patted the boy again. “Bear up, lad,” he said. “Mamma likes to keep the dreck we made when we were adorable, little white-haired boys.”

  The scrawny kid looked stupidly grateful to be patronized. Didn’t he realize that ugly was ugly?

  * * *

  It wasn’t hard to find her dragon’s sleeping room. She had just had to follow her nose. This house was a big improvement on the nasty, smelly dwellings of his ancestors. Theodor Lindorm slept in a large, warm room that was almost underground. A broad band of windows ran along the top of one wall, so it wasn’t dark, even on this shortest day of the year.

  From the broad window ledge, she peered out at the snowy woods that grew up almost to the house. Just enough space had been left between the trees and the dwelling that the sky was visible from inside the room. Or at least it was to her. She had no idea what someone as unnaturally tall as those dragons saw. But she was cold away from her tree, so she headed to her dragon’s sleeping place.

  He reposed on a huge green plain piled with enormous springy pillows at one end. Lexi explored it cautiously. The fabric was rough against her bare feet and the pillows resisted her efforts to climb them. She flew to the topmost spot and sat down. Her mortal’s den smelled deliciously of him. She had disliked the scent of dragons ever since her youthful folly, but she enjoyed the smell of this one. To be sure, that wasn’t everything, but it boded well.

  She squirmed to get comfortable and found herself trapped in an avalanche. She was unharmed, but she could not extend her wings to escape. Somehow, that cunning devil Theo Lindorm had booby-trapped his sleeping place. Hurriedly she transformed into a pinecone and lay perfectly still, awaiting developments. The warmth of her soft cavern, and the smell of her mate, lulled her to sleep.

  A harsh male voice disturbed her. Lexi felt herself lifted and sent spines out to protect herself. The dragon immediately released her. She transformed back into an elf. Theo’s blue eyes examined her from a respectful distance. “What are you doing in here, Fröken?” he asked more gently. He reached for her again but she backed away brandishing her trident.

  “Waiting for you, Lindorm. You are my captive.” To reinforce her claim, when he reached for her again, she stabbed at his outstretched hand. She grazed his knuckles.

  “Will you stop that? Haven’t you wounded me enough? What do you want, you ridiculous sprite?”

  “You cut down my home. You owe me another. Moreover, I have need of a dragon,” Lexi cried. Why was he being so difficult? Did he not understand he was her captive?

  He picked her up again without warning. “Put me down,” she shouted.

  He set her on the icy windowsill. She shivered. “You’ll be out of the way there. Tell me who you are, again, Fröken.”

  Lexi drew herself up to her full height. She changed her robes and made sure a circlet bound her hair neatly. Appearances were of the first importance. “I am the Princess Alexandra – the guardian of the forest and all who dwell on this island,” she intoned with all the dignity she could infuse into her voice. She hoped she still remembered how to comport herself before vassals. “You have cut down my dwelling place, Theodor Son of Lind. In compensation, I have made you captive.”

  Her loutish dragon put his huge yellow head back and laughed so loudly the air shook. “If I am your captive, how come you are here in my bedroom?” He put his great, hairy face close to hers. Huge blue eyes stared. “How do you do that, Princess? You’re never the same twice.”

  “Magic,” Lexi said, surprised by his ignorance. She preened a little. Her leafy green gown was one of her best enchantments. Hundreds of tiny green leaves quivered and sparkled with her every movement. Light danced from her jewels and painted her wings with a rainbow of colors. She knew she looked well. This raiment displayed to all her status as the heiress to the Kingdom of Erikki.

  “All right, Princess, allowing that you have taken me captive – although I can’t see it myself – what do you plan to do with me?”

  Lexi let the silence grow, the better to hold her prisoner’s attention. “I have need of a dragon.” She used her most solemn tones to bait her trap. “If you fulfill my Quest, Theodor Son of Lind, you shall win the hand of the Princess of Erikki in marriage, and half the king’s treasury beside.”

  “That would be you?”

  Lexi inclined her head in gracious assent.

  More laughter shook the room. Lexi’s leaves fluttered. Theo sat down and clutched his shaggy yellow head. His shoulders heaved. He slapped his knee. The air shook.

  “Don’t you mock me, dragon.” Lexi brandished her trident.

  “Princess, if I can be of service, I’ll give it my best shot,” Theo said still chuckling. “But marriage is out of the q-q-question.”

  Incensed, Lexi flew across and perched unsteadily on his head. She drove her trident deep into his scalp. “I claim you by right of capture,” she cried fiercely. She knew she had the formula right, because those were the exact words Jörmungandr the Cursed had used when he had caught her, all those long years ago.

  “Cut it out!” thundered Theo. He plucked her off his head with two fingers and a thumb and set her on his palm. His blue eyes narrowed. “Don’t cry.”

  Tears! When had she become so foolish? Lexi dashed wetness from her face with a trembling hand. She sat cross-legged on his palm and the rightness of being in Theo’s presence soothed her. Perhaps he was the right one after all. She adjusted her draperies and regarded him severely. She would teach him to show her respect!

  “No offense, Princess, but we are not well matched,” Theo said gravely. “I am tall – even for a dragon, and you are particularly, um, petite. But if I can be of service, I will try to help if I can. What it is you need a dragon for?”

  “I want you to fetch me the ring of Hrothgar from the depths of the sea.”

  “The what?”

  “The ring of Hrothgar the Magnificent. It lies many fathoms beneath the waves. But you, Dragon, shall fetch it from the lair of the monster and restore it to me. This is to be your Quest.”

  “You better start from the beginning, Princess,” Theo retorted.

  There was so much amusement in his deep voice, she nearly stabbed him again. Restraining herself, she settled onto his broad palm as if she was sitting on her stool before the throne of King Erikki. It had been a long time since she had recited, but once the Princess Alexandra had been renowned for her ability to hold the rowdiest visitors enthralled. Surely, she had not forgotten her skills? Although ten centuries were a long time, even for an Elven Princess.

  Lexi began in the high style: “Long, long ago, in the country of the elven folk, there dwelt a princess who was young, fair, and feckless. This foolish maiden was heir to the King of the Elves, the joy of his heart and the hope of her people. Yet this witless damsel let herself be taken captive by a common pirate. And when he claimed her as his mate, she gave to him her heart and a token of her esteem, worth half her father’s kingdom. But Jörmungandr the Cursed was a scoundrel. A thief. And as treacherous as all his race.”

  “Sounds like a pirate,” Theodor concurred.

  “Be silent,” Lexi hissed. “The princess had foolishly given this pirate her greatest treasure: the great ring of Hrothgar the Magnificent. Jörmungandr wore it for all the world to see, as though he did in truth intend to be her bridegroom.”

  “On his finger?” Theodor asked.

  “Don’t you know how to listen to a story?” Lexi cried in exasperation. “Be still, Dragon. Th
e ring of Hrothgar is a magical token. One of the many treasures of Erikki. When the princess wore it, it was a necklace, a bracelet, a belt, a ring on her finger or a circlet in her hair. Whatever she chose. But when she bestowed it on this faithless mortal, she placed it around his upper arm as a sign to all that he was to be her bridegroom.”

  Theodor Lindorm tugged his beard. His lips curved slightly, but he didn’t speak. Lexi decided he didn’t actually need to be disciplined right this moment. But she held her trident ready.

  “Jörmungandr the Cursed was a deceiver and a scoundrel. He wished merely to add the Princess to his houseful of concubines. King Erikki was terrible in his wrath. He was angry both at his daughter and at her pirate lover. He recovered the ring of Hrothgar from black-hearted Jörmungandr and sent him and his ship to the bottom of the ocean.

  But Erikki punished his daughter by imprisoning her within a tree, which grew on a scrap of barren land in the middle of the iciest, bleakest, most treacherous stretch of water in the North Lands. He set the ring of Hrothgar within an acorn, which he planted close by the pine tree that was his daughter’s cell.”

  “Are we talking about you, Princess?” Theo asked.

  Lexi bounced up onto her feet. She stabbed at her dragon’s palm with her trident. “Have you no manners?”

  A monstrous thumb and forefinger picked her up and set her on a giant wooden chest. “You have to stop doing that,” Theo rumbled. He began to tug at the giant piece of furniture he had placed her on. It was like standing on top of an earthquake. He found a big square of white fabric inside the chest and the tremors stopped. He folded the cloth and pressed it against his palm.

  “You’re not taking me seriously” Lexi accused.

  “You’re awfully small,” he excused himself. He stalked across to his sleeping platform and sat down. “You go on with your story, Princess.”

  Was she supposed to shout at this ignoramus? With a flutter of wings, Lexi perched on his shoulder, moving his heavy yellow locks aside so she had room to sit.

 

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