Dragon Actually - G.A. Aiken Dragon Kin

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Her confusion continued to grow by the day. The minute. The second.

      She pushed her chair away from the table, slowly standing on wobbly legs. She needed to see the dragon. The one calming thing in her life. He was what he was and she loved him for that.

      Fearghus, his head resting in the palm of his claw, sighed. Again.

      “How many times must we do this?”

      “Until I get it right.”

      “Aren’t you tired? You had your training today, didn’t you?”

      “Yes. But all we do is sword train. This hones my reflexes. Now do it again.”

      Fearghus again sighed and swung his tail. Then he swung it back. He heard her squeal, but unlike before he didn’t hear her lovely bottom hit the ground. “Annwyl?” He turned around but she’d disappeared. His confusion lasted only a moment. He felt the weight on his tail. Slowly, doing his best not to laugh, he brought his tail around. The tip of it caught under her shirt and there she hung. “Are we done now?”

      Her face took on a charming beet-red color. “Yes. We’re done now.”

      “You sure? I mean, we can keep going if you like.”

      She growled at him. “Enjoying this, are you dragon?”

      “As a matter of fact, yes I am.”

      “Down.” He carefully lowered her to the ground and watched her struggle to get untangled from his tail. She finally had to yank off her shirt and Fearghus took in a shaky breath. She wore no bindings.

      She really needed to stop getting naked around him.

      “I should be faster than that.”

      “Annwyl, you’re tired. You had a long day. As did I.”

      Annwyl raised an eyebrow as she pulled the shirt back on. “And what did you do all day?”

      “Many things. Dragons are very busy higher beings.”

      Annwyl smirked at him, her arms crossing in front of her voluptuous chest. “Higher beings, eh? It must be nice.”

      “You need not feel jealous. You are much better than most humans.”

      Annwyl laughed outright. And Fearghus realized how much he loved to see her smile. “Why thank you, oh mighty dragon.” She curtsied low.

      “Now. Now, Annwyl. No need to curtsy. A simple nod of your head and absolute worship will be more than enough.”

      Annwyl liked Fearghus more and more every day. At some point she began to think of him as her dragon. As if the great beast belonged to her and her alone. Ridiculous, of course. The dragon belonged to no one, but she found the feeling comforting.

      She laughed now when she thought of how afraid she had been of him. Afraid of him and all his kind. That feeling seemed like ages ago. Now she found herself almost dreading the day she would have to leave. She and the dragon never spoke of it. They spoke of everything except her leaving.

      And Annwyl did love talking to her dragon. She loved to hear the history of his kind. The stories of his family. She loved to hear him. Just the deep, rumbling sound of his dragon voice calmed her. Eased the rage that always pulsated just beneath the surface.

      “Absolute worship? That’s a very tall order.”

      “You are a very tall girl.”

      Annwyl chuckled as she knelt before the dragon and held her hand out to him.

      “I thought you knelt before no man.”

      “You are a dragon. And don’t get your hopes up. I only want to see your talon.”

      “I’m under such scrutiny,” he grumbled in annoyance, but laid one of his talons into her palm nonetheless. Coal black and smooth, its tip sharp and quite deadly. She closed her hand over it, marveling at the fact that her long fingers could barely reach around.

      “What’s it like?”

      “What? Being a dragon?”

      “No.” She smiled as she released the talon. “Flying?”

      He laughed. “Fine.”

      “Fine? Just fine? That’s the best you can do?”

      “Well, I’ve been flying most of my life so it’s not as interesting to me as it seems to be to you.”

      “You take your gifts for granted, dragon.”

      “As do you.”

      “And what gifts do I have exactly? The ability to have my own brother trying to kill me?”

      “The ability to inspire hardened warriors to follow you into battle. I know few who have such a gift as that.”

      Annwyl shrugged. “They were desperate. No one else knows much about my brother.”

      “If they were desperate, they would have sent you back to him with a ribbon around your head.”

      Annwyl smiled at the dragon. He possessed the uncanny ability to make her feel as if she could challenge the entire world and win. And after a long day of being thrown on her back and told her rage would only get her killed, it was nice to come back to the lair and have the dragon make her feel like she was worth something.

      She sat down on his front claw, leaning back against his forearm. She let out a deep, contented breath and felt her sore body begin to relax. She put her hands behind her head and looked off into the dark cavern, amazed at the size of the dragon’s home.

      With mild sarcasm, “Comfortable?”

      She wiggled her rear against his scales. “Yes. As a matter of fact, I’m quite comfortable, thank you.” She let his chuckle wash over her and her body relaxed even more.

      “Annwyl?”

      “Aye?”

      “Did you get those marks on your back from your brother?”

      Annwyl didn’t even have to look to know which marks he spoke of. There were scars from battle all over her body. But the ones her dragon spoke of were brutal whip marks that covered her back. Those scars had belonged to her for more years than she could remember.

      “No.” Annwyl cleared her throat, and she admitted something to the dragon that she never admitted to anyone ever before. “I got these from my father.” She still hated the man. Even though he had been dead for so many years, she still hated him. She lowered her arms and laid her hands in her lap. “My brother has the same marks. One of the few things we have in common.”

      Annwyl didn’t even realize at first that she clasped her hands together. Clasping them so tightly that the knuckles had gone white. Then the dragon placed two of his talons against them, and she realized that only her father ever caused her to feel this way. She closed her eyes and willed herself not to cry. She’d shed enough tears over that bastard. She would shed no more.

      She opened her eyes when the dragon stretched himself out and crossed his forearms over each other. He adjusted her so she rested in the crook of his forearm, his claws ensconcing her safely. He lowered his head until it rested over her outstretched legs. She stared at him for several long moments. His eyes closed; he didn’t make any further moves. She realized he wanted her to feel safe. And she did. He was giving her his strength, his power, his protection. She didn’t fear the razor-sharp talons that laid so close to her body or the mighty head with all its dangerous fangs. She didn’t fear Fearghus the Destroyer at all. She marveled at the feeling. The feeling of being safe. It seemed strange to feel neither fear nor rage. As new a feeling to her as her desires for the knight. And, she had to admit, she liked both. That two different beings could introduce her to such opposite emotions shocked her to her very core. No matter what happened, both dragon and man would forever share a place in her heart.

      Annwyl reached

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