A Dragon's Love

Chapter 1

“Come dear; we mustn’t dally too long in one place,” Davok said, nervously scratching himself beneath one wing.

“I know,” Medara replied to her mate, surveying the small section of the forest below them with disappointment. “But we can’t afford to leave any stone unturned or hollow tree overlooked. We must find more food, or we’ll starve this winter.”

“I prefer starving to an arrow in my back,” Davok grumbled, swooping gracefully to another perch nearby. “The King’s patrols won’t be far away.”

Medara sighed, her dragon’s breath sending curls of smoke and vapor into the chilly air. The King’s hatred of dragons had escalated of late, and his men ordered to kill them on sight. On top of that, they’d stripped the woods nearly clean of deer and rabbits, leaving only vermin and scavengers behind for them to hunt. If the King’s arrows don’t kill us, starvation surely will, she thought.

“It’s getting late,” Davok said. “Time to go home.”

Returning home empty-clawed did not appeal to Medara. She scanned the forest beyond them for any hopeful signs of finding something to eat when her sharp vision spotted a clearing not far ahead. “Let’s split up,” she said. “There’s a clearing just to the north. I’ll check it while you start home through the valley. I’ll catch up.”

“Be careful,” Davok said.

“I will,” Medara said, dropping from her high perch and arcing upward into the air, heading toward the clearing. She and Davok had been together for many years, but given the poor hunting conditions, perhaps it was a good thing they didn’t have any extra mouths to feed at home. As she flew over the clearing, her nostrils caught an enticing scent below. With excitement she dived downward, landing on the mossy ground amid dried pine needles and fallen leaves turned golden from the autumn sun.

The alluring scent wafted to her from behind the trunk of a large pine. She stole closer to it but stopped as she heard the rustle of leaves and a strange, gurgling sound. Suddenly a small blue orb rolled out from behind the tree. Startled, Medara jumped back, nostrils flaring in high alert. To her surprise, a tiny body appeared and followed the orb, then squatted to pick it up with its two tiny hands. Human hands!

Medara exhaled on reflex, accidentally igniting the dried matter on the ground. It smoldered for only a moment before she stomped it out with one webbed foot. The little human laughed. This was no soldier; it was barely taller than a blade of field grass and wore no armor. Clearly it was a child. Why is it not afraid? Why is it alone? Warily, she scanned the woods around them. No soldiers, no other humans.

The child stood there smiling, holding the blue orb and staring straight at her with bright, curious eyes. So odd and round, those human eyes. Not like dragon eyes at all, which were almond-shaped and much more beautiful, she thought. Still, these little brown human eyes took in the sight of Medara without even a blink.

“Will you play with me?”

The words echoed inside Medara’s mind, as plain as if spoken. Unnerved, she again scanned their surroundings for unseen intruders, but saw nothing. She watched as the child bent down and rolled the orb along the ground toward her. It came to a stop as it touched the claws of her right foot. Then she understood. With a flick of her toe, she rolled it back toward the child, who grinned broadly, seeming pleased with her response. They continued this peculiar game until the flap of leathery wings sounded in the air above them.

Davok soared into the clearing to land by Medara’s side, scattering leaves and underbrush in his wake. “You’ve found food! Bravo, my dear!”

“Shh!” she warned her mate. “You’ll frighten him.”

“Oh, quite right,” Davok whispered, gathering himself. “That would make the meat taste bitter, though there’s not much on it, eh? Oh well; better than nothing I suppose.”

“It’s a him, not an it,” Medara said. Judging by its shorter hair and sturdy clothing she’d decided the child was a male of the species. “He’s different.”

“Different than what? I’ve tasted no variance in human meat from one to another,” Davok scoffed, as he began to salivate in anticipation of a meal.

“Not as food,” Medara scolded. “He can communicate. He spoke to me without words. He must be a special kind of human.”

Davok looked the child over with hungry eyes. “Yes. The daily special, I’d say. Why don’t you hold him still while I roast him?”

“Davok!” Medara hissed. “Don’t you dare. What are you doing here? I told you to scout the valley.”

“I was worried; you were taking so long. Now I see why. Tiring him out before the kill?”

“He asked me to play with him,” Medara said, continuing to roll the orb back and forth with the child. Then an idea struck her. “We should take him with us.”

“Oh, good thinking. We’ll enjoy him much more leisurely at home. Perhaps in a stew?”

Medara flapped her wings in frustration, causing Davok to hop beyond her reach. Still the child showed no fear of either one of them. This was no ordinary human. He could be more useful than just as stew meat. “Don’t you understand? Obviously other humans will be looking for him. If we just eat him, they’ll never know. But if we take him as a hostage…”

Davok frowned and tilted his horned red head to one side, considering the little human. “Perhaps,” he said, nodding. “How shall we catch him?”

Medara approached the child, crouching as low as her legs would allow. She stretched out a wingtip in invitation. With a delighted smile, the small human eagerly climbed aboard the offered wing and settled himself between her shoulders.

Davok sighed. “Are you sure I can’t just toast him a little before we go? It would smell delicious.”

“Oh, Davok, do shut up,” Medara said, then unfurled her wings and took to the sky.

Chapter 2

The Queen paced in her chambers, her long golden hair swinging about her shoulders as she did so. “How could you have lost sight of him?” she wailed at her husband.

The King bowed his head, as distraught as his Queen over the disappearance of young Prince Algar, their only child. “My soldiers were charged with watching him,” the King said for what seemed the hundredth time. “We were hunting, and I spotted a rare stag that led us on a merry chase. When we regrouped, Algar was gone.”

“Then your soldiers are not worth the armor they wear!” the Queen shouted. “I’ll have their heads for this!”

“My dear,” the King said, falling to his knees at her feet. “They are still searching and may yet find him. Do not lose hope, sweetheart. You know how the little lad is; always hiding and fooling the guards. He’s so very clever…” the King left his sentence unfinished, his voice breaking with grief. He turned his head, unable to meet his bride’s eyes.

“What of the beasts in the forest? Thieves on the roads? The vicious, spiteful dragons in the skies?” the Queen ranted on. “He cannot hide from all of them! Yet you waste time making excuses for your incompetent soldiers.”

The King could say nothing to comfort her. Exhausted, the Queen sank into a chair and wept. For all she feared for her child, her husband’s words about Algar’s cleverness rang true. He was indeed a miracle child, showing remarkable intelligence and an uncanny clairvoyance, even as a baby. Born to them after many years of trying made him all the more special; and he would one day inherit the throne as the wisest, most beloved King ever to rule their kingdom.

Though Algar was barely old enough to speak words aloud, he clearly heard and understood them, because the Queen could hear his replies inside her mind. He could also move small objects without touching them, and cause flowers to bloom out of season; but she dared not tell anyone these things, not even her husband. Such gifts would be dangerous if revealed, so the Queen kept her silence. They simply could not lose him; it was unthinkable. And if all the King’s men could not find him, she would do so herself.

“Dragons!” the King muttered in disgust. “Vile creatures! I have slaughtered them by the thousands, my Queen. There is not a dragon remaining who would dare touch the son of the King.” He raised his head and met the Queen’s gaze. “I shall double the patrols, have them seek night and day, without food or sleep until he is found,” he said, still kneeling at the Queen’s feet. “I swear it.”

Summoning her strength, the Queen placed her hand on her husband’s broad shoulder. “My King. I have no doubt he will be found,” she said, her voice steady. “Go now, and do what you must; as will I.”

The King took her hand and kissed it. Then he rose and marched determinedly from the room. The Queen watched him leave, then rang for her maidservant. “Ready my horse, and bring me my armor and sword,” she commanded. As the maid scurried from the chamber, the Queen thought about the dragons, and the edict the King had issued many months ago that they were to be killed down to the last hatchling. What more motivation for revenge did a creature need than having been mercilessly hunted by an angry King?

The Queen made up her mind. She would find whatever dragon remained, and follow it wherever it led, where she felt certain she would find her precious, miracle child.

Chapter 3

Davok poked his head out from their cliffside cave. “Are we having supper anytime soon?” he asked impatiently. It was nearly sunset, and Medara and the human boy were still outside on a nearby bluff, playing with the orb. Their game had progressed from rolling it on the ground, to Medara popping it into the sky with puffs of smoke from her nostrils and the child catching it as it came down.

“Is that all you think about?” Medara called out in response.

“Yes,” was all Davok said, but his mate did not know the half of it. With each passing day, Davok’s hunger for meat became harder to resist. But, as disgruntled as he felt, Davok had to admit he had never seen his mate look so happy as she did now. Her scales sparkled in the waning sunlight as she cavorted in the air above the bluff, her tail snapping like a whip. The little human giggled and clapped his hands at her antics, always rewarded with a quick flight on Medara’s back at the end of the day.

Davok couldn’t deny her the joy she displayed. She’d longed for a hatchling of their own, but they’d not yet been blessed with an egg. As strange as it seemed, this human child seemed to fill that need. But for how long? With his keen dragon’s eyesight, Davok had seen the King’s search parties from miles away, moving closer each day.

“Here we are!” Medara said, folding her wings as she settled on the cliff’s edge and let the boy slide off her back and onto the ground. Together they waddled into the cave, where Medara set out their meal of berries, nuts, and savory roots. She and the child ate them with gusto, but Davok wasn’t sure he could stomach much more of this meatless fare. He looked the boy over once more, imagining soft pink flesh on a stick, cooked to perfection with bursts of flame from his throat.

“I thought you were hungry,” Medara said, interrupting his ravenous fantasy.

“Winter is almost here,” he said. “Do you expect we’ll survive on roots and berries when the snows cover the land?”

Medara looked away. “We’ll manage.”

Davok noticed the boy staring at him. Were his thoughts so plain even a human could sense them? Perhaps he did, for the child suddenly got up and toddled away to a corner of the cave where a bed of straw had been made for him. Davok turned to Medara. “It’s been a week. You said we’d take him as a hostage, not a boarder.”

Medara took a deep breath and exhaled red-hot smoke over a walnut until its shell cracked open. “Don’t you like him?” she asked as she nibbled on the bits of roasted nut inside.

“I’d like him better covered in thick gravy.”

“You don’t mean that,” she said in alarm.

Davok sighed. “The humans don’t know he’s here. If you’re not going to use the boy as a bargaining chip, we might as well eat him.”

“No!” Medara cried.

“Why not?”

She looked Davok in the eye. “Because I love him. He’s my child now.”

“What?” Davok exclaimed, snorting fire from his nose. “Be serious, Medara. He’s a human, not a dragon!”

“And what of it? We’ve always wanted children, and aren’t able to have an egg, so…”

“Children grow,” Davok interrupted. “Do you want to wait until he’s a man, and tries to kill us like all the other humans do? Better we kill him first, then at least we won’t starve.” The look of pain on his mate’s face made him regret his words. “You can’t keep him, Medara, you must know that.”

Reluctantly, Medara nodded, pearly dragon tears welling in her amber eyes. She went and sat down in the straw next to the boy. He smiled at her, but it was not the same joyful grin that she’d come to love seeing on his face. This smile seemed sad.

“Have you no children?” came his voice, the one only Medara seemed to hear. “I want to play with other children.”

Taken aback, Medara hesitated to reply. “I want a child very much, but no, I have no children, because I can't have an egg. I'm sorry. Are you lonely?” she asked gently.

The boy’s lips tightened. “I miss my mother.”

“I can be your mother,” she said.

The child gazed at her for a long moment. “You are a good mother. I like you very much. But you are not of my kind.”

Medara could no longer hold back tears. They flowed down her snout and dripped onto the straw. The child was right; she was not of his kind and could never truly be his mother. But all the same, she loved him and knew she could not bear to give him up.

Chapter 4

The Queen rode through muddy fields and over rocky hills, never slowing her pace. Dragons were indeed scarce and difficult to spot, no doubt hiding themselves well from the King’s patrols; but she would not give up.

As she made her way through a thick forest, a sudden breeze whipped through the evergreen trees, swaying the upper boughs to and fro. Quickly hiding herself and her mount, she watched as a silvery beast descended from the tall pines and began scratching the ground for roots and gathering what withered berries remained on the bushes. Odd that a dragon would seek such food, the Queen thought.

When it had picked its fill, the great scaly creature lifted its beak, and turned its horned head toward where the Queen was hiding. The dragon’s face was fearsome, but elegant with its gleaming, iridescent scales and majestic horns. It sniffed the air, and its amber, serpent-like eyes peered from side to side. The Queen held her breath and remained still as a stone. After a moment, the dragon spread its wings, swished its great spiny tail, and lifted off into the sky.

Mounting her horse, the Queen followed the dragon as it soared away across the land, heading toward the rocky cliffs to the south. It was difficult to see the beast as it climbed higher in the sky, but the Queen’s eyes were sharp, and was able to follow it to the foot of the cliffs, where it disappeared above a ledge high up on the cliff face.

She had no choice now but to climb. She tied her horse where it could feed on the ripe field grass and set off on foot to scale the daunting cliffs. Her sword hung heavily from the scabbard about her waist, and her armor slowed her progress, but the Queen persevered and soon reached a spot just beneath the rocky ledge where the dragon had alighted.

As she took a moment to rest, something caught her eye. Lodged in the moss and scrub growing out of the cracks in the rocks, lay a bright blue ball. She stifled a cry of joy at the sight of her son’s toy, but her joy turned to terror at the realization the ball might also be all that was left of her precious child. With renewed strength, she drove the thought from her mind and climbed over the ledge.

The entrance to the dragon’s cave lair was well disguised, but the Queen could still see it. She crept toward it and peered inside. To her horror, she saw not one, but two dragons! How could she hope to fight two dragons? Calming herself, the Queen watched the pair. They seemed to be sniping and pecking at one another as though in an argument, and it struck her that they might be mates.

The silver one she had followed made a pile of roots, berries, and nuts in the center of the cave, while the second, which was larger and had dark red scales, suddenly turned and scrambled directly toward the cave entrance. The Queen ducked out of sight, and much to her relief, it hurtled right past her and flew away.

Inside the cave, the silver dragon made a strange but gentle sound, and the Queen’s heart leapt when a small figure toddled into view. It was Algar, alive and well in the company of a dragon!

The two began to eat the fare the silver dragon had brought, and the distraction gave the Queen her chance to strike. She sprang to her feet and lunged forward into the cave with her sword held high. “Get back, dragon,” she screamed. “Release my son, or I will surely kill you.”

The silver dragon roared and spewed jets of fire at the Queen. The Queen dropped to the ground, avoiding the flames, and crawled toward Algar. Clutching his arm, she pulled him back from the dragon, and shielding him with her body, turned to face the monstrous beast.

She slashed and thrust at the dragon with her sword, but to no avail. The dragon advanced upon them, snorting flame, forcing the Queen and Algar into a far corner of the cave. Trapped, the Queen stood her ground, prepared to defend her child with her life, and met the fierce glowing gaze of their attacker without fear.

Burning-hot air blew from the dragon’s nostrils, singeing the Queen’s hair and scalding the fair skin of her face, but she did not move. “Do not harm us, dragon! You may burn me to cinders, but I will not let you have my child.”

“Your child!” roared the dragon, lifting its head and belching a stream of flame. “You do not deserve a child! You left him in the forest! You are no fit mother!”

The Queen was shocked to hear the dragon’s words so plainly; she had not known that dragons could speak. Perhaps they were not as savage as the King thought and could be reasoned with. “It was not my fault,” the Queen cried. “I did not wish him to go with the hunting party that day. The King insisted, and his soldiers were to watch him, but they failed.”

“The King?” the dragon asked, its golden eyes narrowing. “What has this boy to do with the King?”

“The King is his father, and my husband. Our son is Prince Algar, heir to the throne! You must release us.”

The dragon bristled, its silver scales standing on end, looking even more terrifying than before. “If you are with the King, then you are my enemy,” it growled. “I will not let you go.”

“Please,” the Queen begged, wrapping her arms around Algar. “The King’s orders are his own. Algar is innocent.” The dragon appeared unmoved by her pleas. “He is only a child,” she continued. “My only child. I waited so long for him; soon I may be too old to have another…please let us go! I’m his mother. He needs me!

“Mother,” Algar whispered to the Queen in their secret, silent way. “Don’t be angry. Dragon has taken good care of me. She is lonely and sad because she has no children of her own. Dragons are gentle and only want peace.”

Moved by her son’s words, the Queen cupped Algar’s small chin in her hand. “You are wise, my son. You will make a great King.” She turned to the dragon. “I will make a bargain with you. I will convince the King to cease all hostilities against dragons. You need only let us go, and I will see that it is done.”

The dragon snorted more flame into the air. “I do not trust you. I need only to incinerate you and the problem is solved.”

“If you kill me, you will still be hunted, and Algar will despise you. Is that what you want? I give you my word, the King’s orders will be rescinded,” the Queen said. The dragon sat back on its heels and spoke no more but stayed close, blocking their escape with its silvery bulk.

Algar broke free of the Queen’s embrace. Before she could catch hold of him, he ran to the dragon and placed his tiny hand on her folded wing. He and the dragon looked at each other for a long moment, as the Queen held her breath in fear for her son.

The dragon then bowed her head and backed away. “Go then,” she said, averting her gaze. The Queen scooped Algar into her arms and hurried out of the cave. As they made their way down the treacherous hillside, the Queen asked him what had transpired between him and the dragon as he touched her.

“Everything will be alright, mother. I left her a gift.”

Chapter 5

“Where is the human?” Davok asked as he returned to their lair. “In a pot, I hope?”

“No. He is gone,” Medara said wearily. “Are you happy now?”

Davok looked at his mate, her sadness plain. “Not if you are unhappy,” he replied. “What happened?”

“The boy’s mother found us and took him home.”

“And you let them get away? Why, one good blast of flame could have roasted them both! We’d have had meat for the entire winter. What’s come over you, my dear?”

“Will you stop thinking about food!” Medara snapped, then turned away. “I don’t feel well,” she muttered. “I’m going to rest for awhile. If you want to eat, fix it yourself.”

Davok stared after her as she waddled away. “I knew it! I knew we shouldn’t have brought him here! That human has given you some kind of sickness!” he bellowed. “We should have roasted him on the spot or left him in the forest.”

Medara settled herself on her nest of straw made long ago in the hope of having a baby dragon someday. “We needn’t fear the King’s soldiers anymore,” she said, sniffing back tears. “The boy is heir to the throne. His name is Algar, and the Queen promised to end the hunts if I let them go.” She laid her head down and curled her tail about her. “Now, don’t bother me further.”

As she began to fall asleep, Medara thought about Algar. “You must let us go. It is the right thing to do. All will be well,” he’d said as he touched her. “Goodbye dragon mother and thank you.” Such a strange human. Medara would never have thought she could love a human so much.

In the night, Medara awoke with a start to find their cave was not pitch dark as it should have been but illuminated by a soft glow. She felt a warmth within her, and a sense of excitement, but could not understand why. Stirring, she realized that the glow came from the nest on which she slept. She turned to look beneath her, and there, tucked safely in the straw, was a shining, golden egg.

Medara knew now, why Algar had touched her so. She could never be mother to a human, but by setting him free, he’d given her the gift she wanted more than anything. To be a true mother with her own child.

From the moment he spoke to her in the forest, she’d known the boy was special; but it was far more than that. Algar had been gifted with special powers and would always use them for good. Medara also knew that he would grow to be a great King, and that from this day forward humans and dragons would always live in peace.

THE END