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The Noblewoman's Bargain with a Dragon - Chapter 3
🕑 Added 2023-09-11 03:31:21 +0000 UTCEmilia nodded. “I understand. I have no intention of showing disrespect.”
Feldham gave a small laugh. “That would be wise, milady.”
After ascending one seemingly endless flight of stairs, Emilia was already feeling winded. “Is it much further, Feldham?”
The older man shook his head. “No, not much further, milady. My lord is attending to another matter, but he should return to his chamber shortly. It is just ahead.”
Emilia nodded, taking a breath. She stopped in the middle of the foyer they’d entered. A large portrait captured her attention. It was a lavish painting of a beautiful elf woman with silver hair and blue eyes. The elf woman was sitting on a rockbed overlooking the sea as waves crashed behind her.
“Who is this?” Emilia asked. The painting captivated her, not just because of the beauty of the elf woman but the intensity of the scene therein.
Feldham saw what she was looking at and gave her a sorrowful frown. “Ah. That would be Aelia…the Master’s late consort.”
Emilia’s lips tightened in a frown of her own as she looked back at the portrait. “May I ask how she died?”
Feldham looked away. “It’s not my place to say, milady. Perhaps the Master can tell you himself.” Feldham sighed with a pained look in his eyes. “Suffice to say, Aelia’s life was cut short by the Master’s enemies. I can say no more than that.”
Emilia slowly nodded with a frown, looking at the portrait one last time before following Feldham. At the end of their corridor was another heavy set of doors which Feldham pushed open, leading her inside. Emilia was taken aback by the vastness of this chamber. Massive stone columns and old statues the likes of which she had never seen before lined the room. The ceiling of the room had to have been at least fifty feet tall, and the chamber extended so far back that she could scarcely see the end of it. At the end of the room was a single obsidian throne that overlooked the chamber.
“What is this?” Emilia asked in awe.
“The Master’s audience chamber, where he receives guests. Though he rarely gets many these days,” Feldham explained as he led her up to the throne itself. Once they reached it, Feldham turned to face her. “Will you be needing anything, Lady Hartford?”
She shook her head. “No, thank you, Feldham.”
He smiled and bowed. “I live to serve, milady. My Master, Lord Xathias, will be with you shortly.”
With that, he walked off and Emilia watched him. There was something peculiar about the servant, though Emilia could not explain why. He’d be cordial and polite, but she found it odd that he had been the only one to greet her. Where were the other servants? As Feldham had led her through the vast castle, she hadn’t seen anybody else aside from Feldham. Not a single soul.
Emilia shook her head. These questions would have to wait. She paced back and forth, contemplating how she would make this proposition to Lord Xathias. She knew very little about him; only rumors shared to her by her chambermaid and others. What Feldham had told her did give her some level of comfort. It sounded as though Lord Xathias was a recluse but was not an unreasonable monster. Ultimately, this was ideal. If she could somehow convince him to ally with her, it could very well be the only chance to save Lucien and his men. Lord Xathias prowess on the battlefield was the stuff of legend; he had once been the scourge of an entire kingdom, after all. Now, she was hoping he would bring that power to bear against the orcs.
One minute ticked by, and then another. Emilia sighed, starting to grow impatient. She did not want to let it show when Xathias finally met with her, but after a trek to the castle and then a long walk up the seemingly endless grand staircase, she was truthfully feeling tired. If nothing else, she wished she had a place to sit while she waited.
Emilia turned her gaze to the throne, biting her lip. Would she really consider it? Sitting on a ruler’s throne without their permission was a sign of disrespect, even if she was a noble herself. Emilia shook her head at first, and even considered sitting on the floor.
To hell with it, she thought. Emilia huffed and approached the throne, marveling at the craftsmanship. Running a hand over the smoothness of it, she took a long sigh and settled into the obsidian stone chair. After her journey to get there, it felt like bliss just to be able to sit for a time. As the minutes ticked on, she felt her eyes closing.
“Comfortable, are we?”
Emilia’s eyes shot open. She heard a deep, commanding voice throughout the room. It sounded like a force of nature. “L- Lord Xathias?” Realizing her position, her eyes widened. “Oh…this is not what it looks like.” Just as she was about to stand up from his throne, she heard a deep chuckle.
“It’s quite alright, my dear. It rather suits you. Better than it does me.” His voice drew closer, though he had not shown himself to her yet. Emilia gulped, feeling rather perturbed. Even though she could not yet see him, she could tell that this voice was not uttered by a human. No human voice sounded this…elemental. She immediately began to regret every choice that had brought her here. Perhaps there was still time for her to turn and leave…
“You needn’t fear me, my dear,” Lord Xathias said, as if somehow sensing her trepidation. The voice was close now, right behind her. Emilia’s blue widened when a hand touched the armrest to her right. A very large, obsidian-colored hand covered in scales and tipped with claws.
Emilia did her best to keep her fear in check, but in reality was probably looking like a gaping fool when Lord Xathias entered her vision. He stood before the throne she was sitting in, and rumors did not do him justice. He towered over her, dwarfing her size utterly; he had to have been eight or nine feet tall at least. He was covered in obsidian black scales a shade lighter than the color of the throne she sat in. His torso, neck and tail, however, were lined with soft amethyst-colored scales. Two large wings rested behind him like a cloak. To her surprise, he was standing on two legs; this, however, was the only humanoid feature he possessed.
It was undoubtedly that he was a dragon, even in this anthropomorphic form that stood before her.
“Lord Xathias,” Emilia said with bated breath. She was about to stand up and bow and he halted her, putting his hand up.
“As I said, you may remain seated. You need it more than I do now, from the looks of it. His maw turned up into a small grin. “Unlike you humans, I have no need for formalities. Perhaps you can tell me what brings you out this far, Lady Hartford.”
Emilia nodded, clearing her throat. How did one begin when speaking to a being such as this? “Very well,” she began. “First, if I may ask, how much do you know about Granitehall?”
“A small neighboring province to the east. Until recently under the stewardship of a robber-baron named Hedgemont. Now it belongs to a certain young war hero, Sir Lucien. Your husband, I presume?”
Emilia blinked, surprised. How did a supposedly reclusive dragon lord know so much? “You’re quite well-informed, Lord Xathias.” He nodded, neither confirming your denying her observation. “And I assume you know what is going on there now?”
“I am aware of the orc invasion, Lady Emilia, yes,” the dragon replied. “What I am curious about is why you’ve chosen to flee here, rather than to the Capital to the north.”
Emilia looked at the dragon resolutely. “Because I do not flee, Lord Xathias. I came here to beseech your aid in driving back the invaders. I know the stories, my lord. I know what you are capable of. I propose an alliance. And once our lands are safe and secure once more, we will have the coin to reward you for your efforts.”
Xathias looked at her for several moments, the expression on his obsidian maw neutral and impossible to read. “I see,” he finally said. He turned away from her pacing and pondering. Each second he spent pacing felt like an hour to her. She desperately wished to know what he was thinking. If he deemed her proposal a foolish one - which was quite likely - she wanted him to simply say so and throw her out sooner rather than later.
“How many men at arms does your husband possess, Lady Emilia?” he continued.
Emilia thought for several moments. “A regiment. Along with whatever militiamen he has been able to gather from the countryside.”
Xathias nodded. “He will only last a week.”
His words were like a stab to her heart, though it only confirmed her worst suspicions. “I know!” Emilia did not intend her answer to be as biting as it was, but she could not keep her emotions in check. Not where Lucien was concerned. “I know,” she said calmer this time. “This is why I came to you, Lord Xathias.”
Xathias said nothing and he paced again for several moments. His hands clasped behind his back and his tail swaying behind him. “I admire your boldness, Lady Emilia.” She smiled, getting her hopes up that he was about to agree. “But…I hope you understand that this arrangement seems to provide all the benefit to you and very little to me. I would be putting my neck out.”
Emilia sighed. The truth was, he was right, and she had no means of denying this. “Yes…you would. But…you are a dragon…”
“Dragons can be killed, Lady Emilia. Not easily, mind you, but it is possible.”
Emilia did not know what to say to that. Based on the legends she had heard about the greatest of dragons, she had never humored the notion that younger races were capable of killing them. She supposed it had to be so, considering how few dragons remained.
A silence lingered in the air as Xathias paced back and forth. She noted that his wings twitched slightly with his movements as he seemed to ponder his next words. “Were I a less decent, more barbaric sort, I might have been inclined to demand…another form of payment from you.”
“What…form of payment, Lord Xathias?” Surely he didn’t mean…
The dragon turned to her, a suggestive expression on his obsidian maw. “What do you think a female can offer a male when she is lacking any other form of currency, my dear?”
She gaped and paled slightly as the implications of his words. Emilia felt foolish for not catching on sooner. “Oh…oh my.” She felt dizzy at the implications. The idea of fornicating with such a creature. How could she ever? Was it even…possible with a monstrous creature of his size?
She shook her head at once, dismissing this line of thought. “I…cannot do that. I’m married. I could never.” She looked back at the dragon watching her with his hands folded behind his back patiently, his scaly tail swaying back and forth behind him. “Surely you do not mean to make such a demand of me, do you, Lord Xathias?”
Xathias shook his head. “I do not. I am no savage, as I said.”
Emilia let out a sigh of relief. “Oh…very well.”
“But my original concern still stands. This alliance offers little benefit to me.”
Emilia glared at him. “And when the orcs finish raping and pillaging our lands, what if they come for you next?”
Lord Xathias’ glowing amethyst eyes narrowed at her, and for the first time she feared she might have stepped over a line. “This castle is situated in a wasteland, Lady Emilia. The orcs will push north deeper into human lands.”
Emilia’s fingers gripped the armrests of the throne tightly. “I’ve been told the orc warlord that leads this invasion is a cunning, unpredictable sort. Can you be certain of this?”
Xathias held her gaze for several moments, the towering creature contemplating her words. Finally, his gaze relaxed. “No, I cannot.”
“I make no promises to offer aid, Lady Emilia.” He continued with a sigh.. “That being said, the hospitality of my castle is yours. I cannot in good conscience send you back out there during an invasion. As for the invasion itself, I will need to give this some thought. In the meantime, I will monitor the situation and come to a final decision when I have learned more. Will that suffice?”
Emilia inwardly swelled with pride at the small victory. Her words, she hoped, were breaking through to him. If nothing else, the fact that he was even considering her proposal was a much better outcome than she was expecting. Emilia nodded vigorously. “Yes…yes, thank you, Lord Xathias. That is all I ask of you.”
He gave her a small smile and a bow. “Very well. For now, I will have Feldham prepare a chamber for you. He will also have a bath prepared for you. You no doubt desire one after your arduous trek here, no?”
Emilia let out a small laugh. “Was I that obvious, my lord?”
He grinned, stepping up to the throne and offering her his hand. She hesitated for just a moment before she accepted it. She was surprised at how warm to the touch his hand was, and how smooth his scales were when she touched him. He helped her up from the throne and back onto her feet, and she graciously nodded and bowed at him.
To her surprise, he wasn’t finished. He got down onto one knee, and for the briefest of moments Emilia foolishly thought the towering draconic male meant to propose to her. It took her a moment to realize that he simply needed to get down on a knee considering the size difference between them. He leaned his hand down and planted a kiss onto her hand in a surprisingly gentlemanly gesture. Given that he possessed a maw rather than lips like a human did, it was a rather unconventional kiss.
Why then did her heart start beating faster?
“Welcome to Darkhold Castle, Lady Emilia. You shall be safe here, I can assure you.”
