A Dragon's Curse

by Lucy Fear

  “I’d be grateful if you would.”

  *********************

  About an hour later, after washing and dressing and eating real food for the first time in days, Maeve stood outside Idris’s room, wringing her hands with anxiety. She needed to see with her own eyes that he was all right, but at the same time, she didn’t want to disturb him. And she was afraid, of what she would see, of what he would say.

  “Just go in already,” Rhosyn’s voice rang out from behind her, startling her even as she was relieved to hear it. “He’s sleeping, but I know he’ll be happy to see you when he wakes up. I heard him asking about you when Father was carrying him down the hall.”

  The reassurance steadied her. “Thank you, Rhosyn,” she said to her friend, receiving a smile in return.

  “I think you two are good for each other, although I feel sorry for you. My brother can be a bit of an idiot.” Relieved laughter bubbled up from within Maeve, and Rhosyn, seeming to feel her job was done, waved and went back to her own room. Maeve took a deep breath and turned the doorknob.

  The room she found herself in wasn’t so different from her own, especially since she’d moved next door after the announcement of their engagement. Idris’s room was decorated in slate gray, white and several shades of blue, in a style that was sparse without being uncomfortable, and the curtains were drawn over the wide windows. The dim light seemed to emphasize the silence, and she had a sense that she was trespassing in a sacred space. The sound of his deep, even breathing was some comfort.

  Idris was lying on his side, the bare skin of his back visible above the sheet he’d twisted himself in. As she moved around to the other side of the bed, she could see his face, peaceful and almost childlike in the way it was pressed halfway into the pillow, his raven hair going every which way. She couldn’t help but smile, in love and relief. One of his arms was stretched out in front of him, and after she pulled a chair up to his bedside, she took his hand in both of hers. His skin was cool, as it usually was, and she could feel the calluses on his palms.

  His eyes fluttered open, and she jumped back, feeling as if she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t have. But he kept ahold of her hand. “Maeve. I didn’t expect you to come here.”

  “I didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted to be sure that you were all right,” she said.

  “I am now,” he said, pulling her forward until she tumbled into his arms, letting out a startled laugh.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be resting?” she asked, though she was anything but displeased as he wrapped his arms around her, scooting to make more room on the bed.

  “We can rest together,” he said quietly, reaching up to brush the hair from her face. “Unless you’d rather not, it would make me feel better to have you here.” She knew what he meant. To be held in the circle of his arms, feeling the warmth of his body, to hear his heartbeat and his breath, the real, physical evidence of his continued life, soothed her more than she could put words to.

  “No, I’ll stay,” she said, nestling herself more firmly against him. He reached back and pulled the blankets over them both, and it was like being in a cocoon, surrounded by his warmth and scent. Tension she hadn’t even known she carried disappeared in a wave of contentment. Idris sighed and kissed her hair. The sound of his even breathing lulled her into sleep.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Her scent was in his nose, like red wine and fresh cherries, and, barely awake, he buried his face in her hair, trying to ignore the way it stirred his blood in favor of preserving the peace of the moment. Maeve was here with him, no longer suffering. They would have another month to try and untangle the curse, and if they could not, he would give her his blood again. Idris hoped that, if it came to that, she would take it willingly, and he also hoped her presence here meant that she had forgiven him for forcing the issue. He wrapped his arms more tightly around her and kissed the back of her neck.

  She took a deep breath and then went still. “Idris?” she asked, almost timid. He kissed the back of her neck again, chuckling.

  “Were you expecting someone else?” he asked.

  “No,” she said, turning in his arms to look at him, her frown relaxing as she realized he wasn't serious. “I thought I killed you. I had such terrible dreams.”

  “I'm sorry for frightening you,” he said, stroking her hair. “But I'm not dead; I'm right here.” He pulled her closer to emphasize the point. “I’ll always be here for you, if you’ll still have me. I know you didn't want to take my blood, but I couldn't stand to watch you suffer any longer.”

  Maeve shook her head. “Of course I still want to be with you, Idris. I’m just glad that you’re all right,” she said. It was more of a relief than he expected it to be. For a moment, he felt limp. “I hope we don’t have to do that again, but if we do, you really ought to warn people in advance.”

  “I was afraid they’d try to stop me,” he said, grimacing. “But now that we know it works, I’ll be able to give you my blood whenever you need it.” She opened her mouth to protest, and he put his finger to her lips. The warmth of her mouth was somewhat distracting. “I mean it. I’ll give you blood every month for the rest of my life if that’s what it takes. No matter what happens between us. I hope it doesn’t come to that, but I won’t allow you to suffer needlessly.” Idris moved his finger away somewhat regretfully; he wanted to trace it over the curve of her bottom lip, to feel the softness of it, but he held himself back. He’d already put enough pressure on her, pulling her into the bed with him, but he had needed so badly to have her there, to have the visceral knowledge that she was alive and that she didn't hate him.

  “Idris, I… Did you mean it? What you said yesterday?” she asked, her eyes wide. It took him a moment to understand what she wanted to know. His ears went hot as he remembered the moment. He had felt his consciousness fading, and for an instant, he feared that he would die, and she would blame herself, not knowing how he felt, that he gave of himself gladly.

  “I did,” he said quietly, kissing her forehead. “I love you, Maeve. We’ve only known each other for a few weeks, but you are so important to me. It took thinking I could lose you to realize.” She smiled, a rare enough occurrence that it made his heart stutter in his chest.

  “I love you too,” she said, twining her arms around his neck. He couldn’t help but kiss her then, meeting her lips with gentle relish. One of her hands slid into his hair, warm against his scalp, and she opened her mouth. He didn’t hesitate to move his tongue between her parted lips, tasting of her deeply and thoroughly, and she let out a quiet sound of pleasure, pressing herself into him. He could feel the softness of her breasts against his chest as he ran his hand over the curve of her hip. Already, his desire quickened, and he disengaged himself with a gasping breath.

  She frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  He swallowed, trying to calm the racing of his heart. “I promised myself I wasn’t going to rush into anything. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” This time, when she smiled, there was pleasure and satisfaction as well as joy.

  “I don’t want you to stop,” she said, caressing the side of his face before sliding her palm over his chest until it rested over his heart. “I want to be with you, in every way that it means, to be your lover in truth.”

  “Maeve…” He had no words, so he kissed her with all that he had.

  **************************

  When she woke in Idris’s arms, she hadn’t been sure what to expect. It still boggled her mind that no one was upset that she’d nearly killed him, so there was a part of her just waiting for the moment when they realized she was a dangerous monster. She wanted to beg his forgiveness, but instead, she found herself accepting his apology. And he loved her. They had kissed several times since the first startling kiss in front of her brother, but this was different than all the others. He kissed her like her mouth was an unexplored territory he wanted to chart with his tongue. Her body turned to liquid; it was a good thing t
hey were already lying down.

  Then, he pulled away. Maeve appreciated his caution and his care; his gentle nature was one of the things that she loved most about him. But she knew he wanted her, and she needed him to know that she wanted him just as much. She might not have any experience in the matter, but the warmth blooming in her chest and between her legs could not be denied. When he whispered her name and kissed her again, she knew he’d received the message loud and clear.

  The feeling of his teeth grazing her lower lip was a jolt straight to her core, and she wrapped her leg around the back of his knee to pull him closer. A groan rumbled in his chest, and his hand slipped underneath her shirt, running over her ribs in a way that made her shiver. She helped him pull the thin garment over her head. The sensation of his skin pressing against hers was so wonderful it was almost overwhelming. His mouth moved to her neck while his hand cupped her breast, his thumb massaging gently, and she let out an unashamed moan of pleasure.

  He pushed her back on the bed as his tongue circled her nipple, and she could barely think, all of her awareness focused on him and his mouth, her fingers twisting in his dark hair. He stroked the insides of her thighs through her clothes and she shuddered in anticipation. His mouth moved lower, kissing down her stomach as his hands unlaced her breeches and slid them from her legs. He kissed her between her legs through the thin fabric of her smallclothes, his breath almost scorching hot. In his eyes was a question, and she managed to nod in reply. His fingers moved with agonizing slowness, gliding over her thighs and calves with a whisper light caress. “Idris,” she breathed his name, pleading for something that she couldn’t even identify. His answering smile was wicked. Her body was now completely bare, and his eyes devoured her. She might have felt self-conscious, but his expression was as adoring as it was desiring, and his hands caressed her like a holy relic.

  His head dipped back between her legs, and she let out a cry of surprise and pleasure as she felt his tongue flick against her most sensitive parts. His mouth made slow circles as his fingers stroked her breasts and stomach, and she could feel something building inside her. A bliss that hummed and shivered and burned just out of reach, but she had some idea of what would make it better. “Idris, please,” she said, her voice ragged, and he looked up at her with hooded eyes. “I want you, right now.”

  He smiled. “As my lady wishes.” She watched him finish undressing, admiring the lean lines of his body. He turned so that she could see the full length of his manhood, and she shivered, her heartbeat racing in her chest. He was, she thought, beautiful, like a living sculpture. The bed creaked as he leaned over to kiss her again, and when his tongue twined with hers, she forgot any lingering anxiety. She wrapped her legs around his hips as he guided himself slowly inside her, and she felt the subtle ache of completion. “All right?” he asked, his voice rough, his pupils dark against the sparkling blue of his irises.

  “Everything is perfect,” she whispered, gliding her hands over his chest. His muscles trembled under her fingers, and he started to move, slow enough that she was aware of every inch of him, and it was glorious. His mouth came back to hers, and this time, she slipped her tongue between his lips. He moaned into her mouth, and the rhythm of their lovemaking grew faster. She could feel it again, coiling tightly in her belly, the sensation that ecstasy hung just out of reach. Their panting breaths mingled, and soft sounds of pleasure began to escape from her mouth, unbidden. She couldn’t help it, and she didn’t want to. Her nails dug into his shoulders as the blissful tension built to an unbearable apex, and then it happened, explosion and release all at once. All of her muscles contracted as the climax tore through her, and she heard Idris call her name. His wild thrusts only drove her pleasure higher, and their moans echoed off the ceiling. A moment later, his head sagged onto her chest, his body as limp as she felt, and she could feel his heart racing as she stroked his back. All seemed right with the world as he rolled onto his side and gathered her close against his chest. He kissed her hair, and she smiled at him, reaching up to caress his face.

  “That was… amazing. Is it always like that?” Idris grinned back, looking not a little relieved.

  “It’s not always that… intense,” he admitted. “But it is my understanding that it can get better with time. Everyone has different likes and dislikes, so we’ll have to try new things to learn what those are for each other.”

  Maeve looked up at him, quirking her eyebrow. “It’s your understanding?” She had assumed that Idris was much more experienced than her; she knew he was older, and if his sister had an active love life, Maeve could only assume that Idris was the same, considering his looks and natural charm as well as his social position. It didn't matter particularly, if that wasn't true, but it did surprise her.

  He cleared his throat, and she could see that the tips of his ears were red. “I’ve never actually been with anyone that I intended to have a long-term relationship with.”

  “Does that mean you intend to have such a relationship with me?” she asked, only half-teasing. She thought she understood his intentions, but it never hurt to be sure.

  Luckily, he was not offended by her doubt but kissed her lightly on the lips. “I do. It might be… premature to promise you forever. But that’s what I want. I love you, Maeve, and I’ll do whatever I can to ensure your happiness.” Her heart buzzed with quiet joy.

  “I want to make you happy too,” she said in sudden conviction. “I’m tired of always being the one who needs saving. From now on, I’m going to work to make myself into someone who is worthy of you.”

  “I don’t think you need to do anything special to be worthy of my attention,” he said, his fingers tracing over her back in complex patterns. “But I’m certainly not going to stop you from trying to learn something new. You ought to talk to my mother about it,” he said, and then he yawned and stretched his arms over his head. “Not right this minute, though, because I’m starving, and I think we could both use a bath.”

  Bathing together was another unexpected pleasure, and not only because it led inevitably to slippery lovemaking. Maeve had not had her hair washed by another person since she was a little girl. When Idris offered, she was hesitant, at least until she actually felt his fingers on her scalp. It was so relaxing, she felt she could have easily, and perhaps happily, drowned if he hadn’t been holding her up. When they emerged from the bath, they found a meal and fresh clothes waiting for them. Steam wafted from a fragrant pot of coffee.

  “I guess word got around,” Idris said sheepishly, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand.

  “I did see Rhosyn just before I came in here,” Maeve said, blushing. There hadn’t been a lot of time to discuss with her friend the developments in her relationship with Idris, but it seemed that Rhosyn had guessed a lot of it anyway.

  “I suppose we weren’t exactly quiet, either,” he offered, and then he laughed. She found herself laughing too. After all, what did it matter if the whole estate knew what they’d been up to? It was nothing to be ashamed of, and after the anxiety and pain of the last ten days, it felt only natural to want to celebrate their love as loudly and often as possible. They dressed and ate out on the balcony, finding it awash in afternoon sunshine. Apparently, they had slept most of the day away.

  As they were finishing their meal, Rhosyn appeared in the archway, grinning broadly. “You’re both looking well. And I see you received my presents.”

  Idris cleared his throat, his cheeks coloring. “Yes, well. Thanks for the food. But I hope you have some reason for barging in here, other than to gloat over the triumph of all your schemes.”

  Maeve frowned at the both of them, and Rhosyn laughed at her obvious confusion. “I’ve only been trying to set you two up since you arrived here, Maeve. I have a sense for these things, and I knew you would be perfect for each other.” Maeve didn’t know what to think. On the one hand, she was annoyed at the interference, but on the other hand, she had to be grateful that it had been successful. She dou
bted she would have had the courage to approach Idris on her own, and if, as she suspected, Rhosyn hadn’t been doing just as much helpful nudging of her brother, it might have been years before they’d so much as touched if left to their own devices. And who knew what would have happened then? “Anyway,” Rhosyn continued, “I came to tell you that you’re expected at dinner. Fenella is on her way back from the Court of Bones with news.”

  Idris let out a deep sigh of relief that Maeve felt echoed by her own heart. “I hope it’s something we can actually do something about. All of this sitting around waiting is driving me crazy,” he said, running his hand through his hair in a restless motion.

  “I don’t know, it sounded like you two were occupying yourselves pretty well,” Rhosyn said playfully. Idris threw a croissant, which bounced off her head.

  “I suggest you leave, sister, before I resort to the strawberry jam,” he said, his entire face red. She retreated, cackling with glee. Maeve watched the whole scene with a sort of amused bewilderment. Though it was embarrassing to think that their amorous activities were such common knowledge, she had never seen either of them so playful or carefree. It made her feel like she'd seen something special.

  “Do your arguments always end in thrown food?” she asked, and he snorted, fetching the croissant from the floor and slathering it with butter.