Chapter Two

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Chapter Two

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Mirelle followed the winding trail through the marshy forest. It was a beautiful day she wished she could appreciate. Afternoon sunlight filtered through the thick canopy, dappling the path with golden blotches. A warm breeze rustled the leaves, carrying the scents of water and moss from the marshlands. Birdsong carried warbling music, and insects buzzed and chirped from hidden places. Yet it was hard for her to enjoy her walk, knowing where it would end, and why she was here.

She took a deep breath to try and quell her lingering anger. How the village council could be so blind and so stupid she’d never know. What was it going to take for them to listen to reason? What were they waiting for, for their village to burn next? Mirelle could just imagine those arrogant old bastards, sitting around their council chambers, debating how best to put out the flames.

Mirelle sighed, and continued through the forest. Thinking about her failed meeting wasn’t going to change things. Someone had to take charge of the situation. If they wouldn’t listen to reason, she’d just have to do things herself, like usual. Nothing new there, though this was the first time she’d taken action quite this drastic. Why, if her mother was still around…

She smirked. Her mother would have been damn proud, that’s for sure.
A walkway hewn of cypress wood spanned a shallow, murky pond lined with reeds. Slick green moss with a scattering of tiny red tendrils carpeted the little bridge. Mirelle crossed it with care so as not to slip and end up in the mire. A few little fish with scales bright enough to shimmer even in the dark water flitted around the edges of the span. Their pretty colors made Mirelle smile. Even when her moods were darkest, there was always something beautiful to stop and appreciate if she’d only but look.

Feeling a little better, Mirelle ascended several old, wooden stairs placed in a small hillside. A cairn of roughhewn limestone blocks marked the top of the hill. Winds swirled around the summit, buffeting her hair around her face. She fetched a blue ribbon from a pouch, and tied back her black curls. Then she inspected the cairn, wiping lichen away from an old carving. A vague outline of a winged form marked the topmost stone. At least she knew she was going the right direction.

Descending the creaking stairs on the other side of the hill, Mirelle peered through the forest. Coils of ivy with heart-shaped leaves twined around gnarled tree trunks far larger than she could ever fit her arms around. Flowers like upside down blue pitchers dangled free vines curled around low hanging branches. Stands of ferns taller than Mirelle and with fronds longer than her arm span laid claim to the shady areas beneath the towering trees.

Further down the pathway, she stopped when she reached a broken walkway. A few gnarled roots as big as her arm had grown so large they’d broken through the wooden planks placed atop them. Mirelle considered hopping across the large roots and battered boardwalk, but decided against it. If she slipped and fell she’d end up soaked at best, injured at worst.

Mirelle drew the knife buckled at her hip, and cut a long, slender branch from a nearby tree. She tested the murky water’s depth with the long switch. Satisfied it was not too deep, and the bottom wasn’t too soft, she took a careful step. The water sloshed around her boots, chilling her feet as it soaked in. Mirelle grimaced. If she was going to have cold, wet feet, at least it was a warm day. She was glad she swapped her skirt for a pair of dark breeches when she decided to head into the forest. Not that she cared about getting her clothes dirty. Breeches just did a better job of protecting against bugs and leeches than a skirt.

She waded across the mire, using her stick to test the depth before each step. Along the way, she startled a fat gray frog with green spots. It leapt from its stump and into the water with an indignant croak. A long, thin snake swam along the surface in front of her. Mirelle paused to study it. She recognized the type as mildly venomous but not aggressive. She let it continue on its way and then continued on hers.

On the other side of the pond, she used her stick to help clear a path through a thick stand of reeds that had overgrown the trail. The remains of another cairn lay scattered across the forest floor nearby. Mirelle scowled, and stacked the rocks atop each other. When she found the one with the winged serpent carved upon it, she put it on top. It seemed to her it had been quite some time since many people had walked this particular path.

Not that she could blame them. The path led to the lair of the dragon who called this marsh home. Though Mirelle had no desire to come face to face with such a foul, wicked creature, she had no choice. Mirelle refused to risk letting her village be the next to burn just because their council was too stubborn to do what must be done. If that meant she was to face the dragon herself, so be it.

Mirelle’s mood darkened as the trail faded. A knot of icy uncertainty settled in her belly. Her wet feet grow colder. What if she couldn’t do this? What if she was wrong? She must have been crazy to think this would work. And yet, she knew it had too. She told herself she could do this, that she was strong enough to face this foul beast.

When Mirelle crested the next hill, she got her first look at the dragon. She froze, her legs refusing to move. She grit her teeth, and balled up fists. Go on, Mirelle. Face him with dignity. You’ve dealt with worse. Though she wasn’t quite sure she had, in fact, dealt with worse, she was damn sure she’d keep her dignity intact no matter what happened. She’d come all this way to face this monster, and face him she would. Besides, turning back now would not protect her village.

After marshalling her resolve, Mirelle descended the hill, her eyes on the beast.

She’d seen him before, both spiraling in the sky above the village and at a distance when he landed somewhere. And Mirelle had heard all the stories there were to tell. Very few of them were pleasant. But never had she seen the dragon up close, let alone approached him.

The dragon lay sprawled in the middle of a mossy clearing, basking in the sun. He was larger than an immense horse, but by as much as she’d expected. Nonetheless, he remained an impressive beast. Most of his body was covered in dark green scales, with coppery blotches strewn across the backs of his massive wings. Copper stripes marked the front of each limb. Ridged black horns crowned his wedge-shaped head, along with an assortment of spiny frills edged in gold. His long tail stretched out behind him, adorned with its own set of webbed spines.

Mirelle stopped at the edge of the clearing, staring at the creature. She’d heard a lot of unpleasant tales about the foul beast, but she had to admit, the dragon possessed his own sort of regal magnificence. She smiled. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad, after all. The dragon’s magnificence dissipated the moment he unleashed an immense belch and shifted to scratch at what lay between his hind legs. Mirelle sighed.

Wonderful.

Mirelle decided she may as well get this nightmare over with. She adjusted her gold-colored blouse, hoping it was as official looking as she thought. She squared her shoulders, and strode across the soft moss towards the dragon. As she neared him, the dragon shifted, rising onto his haunches in a single smooth motion. He curled his spined tail around his paws, folded his wings against his body, then arched his serpentine neck to gaze down at her, impassive. The creature’s shining bronze eyes stood out amidst the pebbly scales of his face, like polished coins.

Mirelle came to a stop, staring up at the dragon. Her hands went cold, and tightened them into fists again. Though she told herself there was no need to be afraid, it was impossible to avoid feeling a bit of instinctual fear when faced with a creature whose species once made meals of hers.

“Greetings, subject!” A fang-filled smile accompanied the dragon’s sonorous voice. The spines behind his ears flexed, showing off the gold-edged membranes connecting them. “I did not know to expect guests, today.”

Subject? Mirelle wasn’t sure how to take that. But so long as the dragon seemed to be treating her with respect, she’d do the same for him. She took a deep breath and forced a smile. “I hope I have not come at a bad time. If you’ve a moment, I have important matters to discuss with you.”

The dragon lifted his head higher. His pointed ears swiveled forward. Another, larger frill with thicker black spines rose up between his horns. “Of course! Your benevolent overlord, Revaramek the Resplendent, always has time to hear the troubles of his subjects.”  

Mirelle’s jaw dropped. She didn’t even know how to begin unpacking that. She worked her jaw, but found herself unable to grasp even a single word of reply.

The dragon cocked his head. “You see, benevolent means-”

“I know what benevolent means and you’re damn well not it!” Mirelle blurted her words out in a rush of anger, jabbing her finger in the air. “Nor are you my overlord! Or…or anyone’s overlord!”

“Am too.” The dragon cocked his head the other direction, staring at her. He licked his nose, flexing his wings. “And I’m very benevolent.”

“Name one benevolent thing you’ve done!”

The dragon lifted one of his forepaws. He unsheathed black claws, then splayed his paw to inspect them. A hint of green webbing spanned the area between the base of his fingers. “I rescued those pigs from the flood.”

“You ate them!”

“I’ve slain bandits.”

“That’s your damn job!” Mirelle stomped a foot. She felt like she was talking to a child.

“Still benevolent.” The dragon set his forepaw down, and lifted the other. He unsheathed a single claw, and then used to pick something out of his teeth. “So, what can your benevolent overlord do for you?”

Mirelle just gaped at him. Was the dragon genuinely deluded or just toying with her? She’d heard tales, but this-

“You’ve pretty eyes.” The dragon lowered his head, peering at her. “Like polished wood. What do humans call that color?”

Mirelle wasn’t sure how to take a compliment from a dragon. “Hazel. And thank you.”

“Well, Hazel, I know why you’re here.”

 “Yes, I should think you do.” Mirelle set her jaw. “And that’s not my name.”

“You’re here because…” The dragon made a grand, sweeping gesture with his foreleg. “They’ve sent you to be my maiden for the night, haven’t they?”

“What?” Mirelle’s eyes widened as heat flooded her ears. The little bit of good will generated by his compliment evaporated in an instant. “Certainly not!”

“Are you sure?” The dragon bumped his muzzle against her face, nostrils flaring as he sniffed her. “You smell nice.”

“Get your filthy snout away from me!” Mirella slapped the dragon’s muzzle before she could think better of it.

The dragon yelped and yanked his head back. He rubbed his nose with a paw, then rumbled laughter. “Feisty, too. They must know how I like my maidens.”

“I’m not your damn maiden, you perverse beast!” For a moment, Mirelle was too angry to be worried about any potential retaliation. Still, in the back of her mind she was glad there seemed to be some rules he still abided. “So keep your muzzle and everything else to yourself. Got it?”

Revaramek licked his snout as if trying to ease the sting. “I’ll consider it, girl.”

Mirelle growled at him through grit teeth, her eyes flashing. “You’ll regret it if you don’t. And don’t call me girl!”

“You’re a cranky wench, aren’t you.” The dragon rumbled low in his throat, flicking his webbed tail spines back and forth. “So why are you here?”

“You…you…”

“Yes, yes? Me, me?” Revaramek pulled his head back, his neck curling into an S-shape. “I know, we dragons are intimidating. Take your time, girl.”

Mirelle shook a trembling finger at the dragon, increasingly livid. “I need…a moment.”

“Yes, I think you do, you’ve gone all red. Like your head is going to pop.”

Mirelle spun on her heel, turning away from the dragon. She’d expected foulness and perversity from such a wicked creature, but this was just infuriating. She half wondered if this dragon had recently taken a mace to the skull. Mirelle knew losing her tempter wasn’t going to solve any problems, though. She needed to relax. She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes, groaning.

Okay, Mirelle. Deep breaths. You’ve dealt with infuriating before. You can handle this.

“You know, for a human, you’ve an awfully nice ass.”

She stiffened. Oh, God.

Just as she was ready to whirl around and give the dragon a piece of her mind, he swatted his paw against her rump. The impact startled her and she jumped, grabbing at herself. She stumbled forward across the mossy earth, then pivoted around and stomped right back towards the dragon.

“How dare you!” Mirelle jabbed her finger against the softest looking part of his nose.

The dragon crinkled his snout, and pulled his head back out of range, hissing. “Now what?”

“What do you mean, ‘now what’?” With the dragon’s head out of range, Mirelle poked at the green plates protecting his chest, looking for another soft spot to jab him. “You damn well now what you did! You are not allowed to do that to me! Or anyone!”

The dragon only grunted. He cocked his head, gazing down at her. “Why not? Is that not how human males show their affection for maidens and wenches?”

“No!” Mirelle stomped her wet boot, flattening a patch of moss. “They don’t…well, some of them, but…just because it’s done doesn’t mean it’s right!”

Revaramek tilted his head the other way, frilled spines wavering around his head. “Oh?”

“No! And, that’s not the point. This is…” Mirelle gripped her hair, fighting the urge to scream and tear out a few black curls. “By every God who’s ever been cursed or worshiped, you’re exasperating! No wonder no one wants to deal with you!”

“If a little smack on the haunches makes you this furious, I don’t know how you’ll ever make it through life without your heart exploding.” The dragon have a low sigh, tossing his horned head. Then he smiled, lifting his frills. “Tell you what. As I am a very reasonable overlord-”

“You’re no one’s damn overlord!”

“Don’t interrupt.” The dragon lifted a forepaw. He stared at it, extended a single finger, and then shook it at her. “It’s rude. Is…that the right gesture for rude?” He shook the single digit again.

Mirelle buried her face in her hands, growling into her palms.

“Now. As I was saying. If it will make you feel better, I’ll let you smack my haunches in return.”

Mirelle lowered her hands just enough to see the dragon past her fingertips. “You’ll what?”

“Has all that blood that’s rushed to your face filled your ears? Do humans go deaf when they turn red?” The dragon stretched his wings out, then scratched at his long neck with a black, wing-tip talon. “I said, I’ll let you smack my haunches. Then we’d be even.”

Mirelle lowered her hands a little further as a devious idea came to mind. “You’d have to stand up. And turn around.”

The beast twisted his head around, craning his neck to stare back at his own hind end. “Yes, I suppose I would. Would that make you feel better?”

As her idea grew, Mirelle smirked at the foul creature. “Oh, I suspect a little woman’s revenge would make me feel much better.”

“Very well.” The dragon pushed himself up onto all fours, folding his wings. Mirelle scrambled back and ducked when he turned around. His long tail whooshed through the air just over her head. Once turned away, the dragon glanced back at her across his wings. “How’s this?”

“Not bad, but…” Mirelle examined the dragon from behind. More copper splotches were strewn across his haunches, with matching stripes across the back of his tail. The thin spines that tipped it were connected by semi-rigid webbing edged in gold like his head frills. Unlike those, the tail webbing looked sharp. She didn’t want that anywhere near her. “Your tail’s in the way, though. Could you maybe…” She gestured with her hand. “Tuck it around your body?”

“I suppose.” Revaremek curled his tail forward, up against the side of his body. “How’s that?”

In that position, the dragon suddenly looked far less invulnerable. A wicked smile crept across Mirelle’s lips. “Perfect.”

“Well, go on then.” Revaramek waggled his haunches. “Do it hard, if you wish.”

“Oh, I intend to.” Mirelle walked up behind the dragon, sizing him up. It looked as though he had a couple of green apples nestled under his tail. “I suspect this has been a long time coming, Dragon. So this? This is on behalf of maidens everywhere!”

As soon as Revaramek glanced back at her, Mirelle surged forward and kicked the dragon in the balls with all she had.

The dragon’s bronze eyes bugged out, and he gave a guttural cry. “UUUURRRRLLLAAAAGGHHH!”

Now there was noise Mirelle had never heard.

At the same time, Revaramek’s plated chest dropped to the ground as both forepaws shot back to clutch his testicles. His eyes crossed above his snout and his jaw hung open, tongue lolling. All his frills popped out to full extension, showing off their golden edges. For a few long moments, Revaramek remained in that delightfully awkward position, chest down, haunches up, cross-eyed and with his boys in his paws. It was just about the funniest thing Mirelle could possibly imagine a dragon doing. At least until his bronze eyes rolled back, and he ever-so-slowly toppled over sideways with the longest, loudest groan she’d ever heard.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHH!”

At that point, the dragon curled into a scaly ball on the moss. Revaramek rubbed his hind legs together around his paws. He rocked back and forth from his side, to his belly, and back again. By then his whole muzzle and face were a mask of scrunched scales and crossed eyes. A reddish hue spread across his frills, and the inside of his ears. His tail curled as he gave another low moan.

“Ooooooooooh! Oh, how they ache!”

That was all Mirelle could take before she burst into righteous laughter. She stumbled away from the stricken dragon, laughing so hard she nearly fell to her knees. She doubled over, clutching her aching ribs. “Oh! Your face! You should see! Your face!”

“Nrrrrrrrrhhhh!” The dragon rolled onto his stomach. He rubbed himself with his paws, then flexed a hind leg. His toes splayed and his claws cut ruts in the moss. “Not…funny!”

“Oh, but it is! I had no idea a dragon could crinkle his muzzle up like that. Or turn red!”

“I am…not…Awrrrhh…turning red!”

“You are to!” Mirelle kept laughing as she waved at the dragon’s head. “Your little head decoration things have gone all crimson!”

The dragon turned his head away from her, laying it on the moss. With the way his snout was scrunched up, half his fangs were exposed. “Uurrhhn. Still. Not funny!”

“You look like you’re about to start drooling. Oh, I’d like to see that.” She walked around the dragon, careful to stay out of range. He rocked back and forth a little bit more as she came around the other side of him. Then he stretched one of his wings forward to cover his head. “Aww, that’s no fun you big spoilsport. I shall just have to assume you’re both drooling, and crying under there.”

“Go…get mounted.” The dragon lashed his tail against the earth, grunting.

“What was that?” Mirelle’s laughter faltered. She sharpened her tone, hands on her hips. “If you’re still going to treat me with such disrespect, perhaps I should try that again.”

“Alright, alright!” The dragon curled tighter, holding up a single paw as if to ward her off. “I’m sorry! Truce!”

“That’s a good start, Dragon.” Mirelle relaxed, just a little. “Though I doubt the sincerity of your apology, it is accepted all the same. And yes. Truce! That’s exactly what I came here to talk to you about.” She strode around him again, speaking roughly to the location of his head, hidden beneath his wing. “The truce you so thoroughly shattered a week ago!”

Revaramek sucked in a breath, then cursed through his pain. “Oh, shit.”

“Yes.” Mirelle smirked at him, then turned and strode across the clearing. With a satisfied sigh, she settled herself upon a flat tree stump. “Oh, shit indeed. Now. I’m going to sit here and watch you squirm for all the wicked things you’ve ever done with hapless maidens. Then, when you’re done fondling yourself and flopping about, we’re going to have a nice, long chat about what you did to my grandfather’s house. And then…” Mirelle drew the knife from her belt. She flipped it in the air, caught it, and stuck it in the tree stump. “Then we’re going to talk about how you’re going to save my village.”