Wellorg
Part 1
Part 2
Wellorg felt Droth's spirit before she ever smelled him. He felt like a lonely wolf call in the night, full of sadness and purpose. He felt like the consort she never had, so unlike the dozens of other man-kin she had been knighted to over the swirl of centuries.
She stirred in her rocky nest, opening one red eye to watch the steep pathway up her mountain. Maybe she would fly down to meet him, snatch him up in gentle talons and feel his tiny spirit flame up with bright fear and excitement.
No, that would not do. She would not come running to him after this long apart.
Still, her black heart beat just a little faster when she saw Droth walking up the path. He waved and she snorted, sending a fine mist of acid to sizzle the nearby moss.
"My lady," Droth said with a short bow. "You are lovely, as usual."
"I greet you, Sir Droth." There. That would set the tone. Cold and distant until he had groveled sufficiently.
He stepped closer, well within the circle of steaming moss. "I have a gift for you."
She concentrated on looking aloof. "Too kind."
He showed her a yellow block of sulfur the size of an apple. It was a luxurious treat fit for a queen of dragons.
Again, her black heart jumped. How could this unremarkable man-kin still have this effect on her?
"Very thoughtful." She took the treat gently from his outstretched hand, her scaled lips scraping along his calloused hand. So much like a dragon's hide.
She crunched the delicious morsel, feeling the decadent flavors burn along her forked tongue, her stomach growling in anticipation. She closed her eyes and savored the exotic joy in her soul.
She felt his calloused hand run lightly along her jaw, and a shiver ran down her full length. Her eyes remained closed; her breath came faster.
"I have missed you, my lady."
She growled happily, a low warble. So unlike her. But she loved the feeling of his hands and his spirit twining around and through her. She let it take her.
"I forgot how magnificent you are." His hand ran along her eye ridge. It felt wonderful. She could feel his spirit blaze brighter. It was somehow fierce, somehow larger than the pitiful man-kin before her.
"Would you fly with me again, my lady?"
Her breath caught. She remembered a long-ago flight, a battle, and glorious combat that had welded their spirits together forever. A sky full of dragons, wolves on the ground fighting alongside man-kin and Elvenari and dwarven soldiers. And endless waves of slavering gargs, their simian cries filling the bloody battlefield.
She tingled all over now. "Yes."
\\\
An hour later, they flew over the Jirrahs hiding just outside Ritter's prison. As queen of her kind, she had insisted on bringing two of her retainers with her. She would not fly alone like a common hedge dragon.
She bugled imperiously and landed in the castle courtyard. Her two retainers landed on the wall higher up.
Twenty dragon voices joined hers in greeting. For a moment, the sky seemed to split with dragon song. Droth understood little of the Old Speech, but he did catch the general meaning. In man-kin words, it may have sounded like this: "Greetings my dragon-kin. I am Queen Wellorg; you may approach me and appreciate my magnificence."
Droth smiled. Self-confidence was never a problem for her.
Part 6
She stirred in her rocky nest, opening one red eye to watch the steep pathway up her mountain. Maybe she would fly down to meet him, snatch him up in gentle talons and feel his tiny spirit flame up with bright fear and excitement.
No, that would not do. She would not come running to him after this long apart.
Still, her black heart beat just a little faster when she saw Droth walking up the path. He waved and she snorted, sending a fine mist of acid to sizzle the nearby moss.
"My lady," Droth said with a short bow. "You are lovely, as usual."
"I greet you, Sir Droth." There. That would set the tone. Cold and distant until he had groveled sufficiently.
He stepped closer, well within the circle of steaming moss. "I have a gift for you."
She concentrated on looking aloof. "Too kind."
He showed her a yellow block of sulfur the size of an apple. It was a luxurious treat fit for a queen of dragons.
Again, her black heart jumped. How could this unremarkable man-kin still have this effect on her?
"Very thoughtful." She took the treat gently from his outstretched hand, her scaled lips scraping along his calloused hand. So much like a dragon's hide.
She crunched the delicious morsel, feeling the decadent flavors burn along her forked tongue, her stomach growling in anticipation. She closed her eyes and savored the exotic joy in her soul.
She felt his calloused hand run lightly along her jaw, and a shiver ran down her full length. Her eyes remained closed; her breath came faster.
"I have missed you, my lady."
She growled happily, a low warble. So unlike her. But she loved the feeling of his hands and his spirit twining around and through her. She let it take her.
"I forgot how magnificent you are." His hand ran along her eye ridge. It felt wonderful. She could feel his spirit blaze brighter. It was somehow fierce, somehow larger than the pitiful man-kin before her.
"Would you fly with me again, my lady?"
Her breath caught. She remembered a long-ago flight, a battle, and glorious combat that had welded their spirits together forever. A sky full of dragons, wolves on the ground fighting alongside man-kin and Elvenari and dwarven soldiers. And endless waves of slavering gargs, their simian cries filling the bloody battlefield.
She tingled all over now. "Yes."
\\\
An hour later, they flew over the Jirrahs hiding just outside Ritter's prison. As queen of her kind, she had insisted on bringing two of her retainers with her. She would not fly alone like a common hedge dragon.
She bugled imperiously and landed in the castle courtyard. Her two retainers landed on the wall higher up.
Twenty dragon voices joined hers in greeting. For a moment, the sky seemed to split with dragon song. Droth understood little of the Old Speech, but he did catch the general meaning. In man-kin words, it may have sounded like this: "Greetings my dragon-kin. I am Queen Wellorg; you may approach me and appreciate my magnificence."
Droth smiled. Self-confidence was never a problem for her.
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