Beauty and the Dragon

by Melody Rose

  To add a dollop of awesome onto all of this, the representative to the board of directions was laissez-faire about how I operated my branch and gave me carte blanche to order everything I wanted, as long as it was within the monthly inventory budget, that is. On top of that, I’d single-handedly transformed this library into a tourist attraction, pairing the moody fogginess with strange materials. We didn’t even have to bother with our own social media campaigns because I’d nurtured such a loyal fan base. Not that they had any idea who I really was, and I liked it that way. Sometimes I felt that I could just disappear, and they’d be none the wiser as long as they got their fix.

  I toyed with the idea of piloting a special event centered around the Jörmungandr manuscript, so I could recoup some of the costs. There was no way I’d fess up to how much I dropped on it, though I guessed someone could interrogate a book hunter and piece together a ballpark figure. Still, I felt oddly attached to it… overprotective, even. I told myself that I was reunited with a long lost “friend,” and that we needed some time together to bond. Maybe that was just a weird symptom of anxiety that cropped up to avoid buyer’s remorse. At any rate, I’d make the most of my time here and get more familiar with my mysterious possession before the night was over.

  After a couple of hours, I finally piled all our books remotely related to dragons onto two metal carts to start my investigation. Thanks to modern technology, I didn’t have to get bogged down by the herculean task of checking every single book for the references I wanted. I just needed to pop some choice terms into our advanced search engine and every text that made some type of nod to the fantastic creatures were at my fingertips.

  I found a fair amount of fables from the Middle Ages, all concentrated in France, funnily enough. They included Griselda and a troubadour, Jilocasin and the crying maiden, and Melusine and Lord Raymond. The common thread that tied all these tales together was a tradition of shapeshifting to earn the favor of a royal human. I thought it was pretty odd that dragons would care about human nobility, especially since none of the stories alluded to any alliances they wanted to forge. Instead, these majestic beings were just smitten by the men and women they laid eyes upon, even willing to shed their natural forms just to earn the trust of their cherished humans.

  This was all very interesting, but it wasn’t an exact match for the Jörmungandr Manuscripts. For one, at least in the volume I had, dragons weren’t sappy heartthrobs at all. The only time that they donned the appearance of humans was to disarm their enemies, pretending to be docile when they were really ready to strike. The draconic clans were also very prideful about their enchanted kind and wouldn’t think of diluting it with some human royal, no matter how much gold they had. The only time they’d bother with our kingdoms was to devour us and then steal all our riches to brag about the victory.

  The other major difference was that all these other dragons were riding solo, flying out from some secluded and usually unnamed cave or forest to run into their lady or lordly love. The Jörmungandr dragons I had read about were part of a clan that praised both magic and combat. Much like Viking tribes, both the women and the men united to either resist or plunder rival territories. They had the utmost respect for one another and wished to preserve their traditions for an eternity.

  Perhaps there was a grain of truth to the mischievous monk theory that ran amok in the book hunter forums. Maybe the manuscripts were all one elaborate hoax to poke fun at the saccharine idea that dragons could be romantic heroes that swept humans off their feet. That certainly made a lot of sense since most other depictions of dragons were either full of fire and fury or aloof wisdom. They definitely didn’t spend their precious time and energy trying to mate with humans.

  Now, if these were monks, they had to be from England because I didn’t know a lick of French and was still able to follow the text. Those two countries had a bunch of disputes over the centuries, so it stood to reason that one would ridicule the other. There weren’t any historical sources that could shine any light on this hypothesis, though, and so it just remained a book hunter rumor.

  In fact, all I could unearth were some charming cotton candy fantasy novels that explored complex draconic societies. As I flipped through them with a contented smile, I couldn’t help but notice an overlap with my manuscript. I guessed that some could say that this connection meant that my volume couldn’t be trusted. Even so, I couldn’t shake the thought that there was a grain of truth embedded in it. The voice was so real, so authentic that it must have come from a rich and ancient culture, even if it was one with a cunning sense of humor.

  As I tried to sort through all of my thoughts, some coherent and some jumbled, I heard a ruckus come from the sci-fi and fantasy section I had just raided. My eyes shot open, and my breath caught in my throat as a blazing amber portal opened up in the middle of a well-stocked shelf. Books began shooting out of their appropriate positions spine first, fanned out in a vibrant disarray.

  I blinked in disbelief as a man in crimson leather armor stepped out from the glowing portal, then screamed bloody murder. He looked both impossibly strong and ethereal, too handsome for a man born on this planet. Even though I had been going through quite the dry spell and his impeccable bone structure enticed me, I was still scared out of my mind. With his sleek, jet black hair that flowed past his shoulders, his intense mahogany brown eyes, angular jawline, and built figure, I could safely say he was more alluring than any patron I’d ever laid eyes on. Still, there was no promising that a sexy stranger had good intentions. In fact, I was willing to bet on the opposite. I already experienced a primal reaction to him, my body heat rising, but I couldn’t tell if it was lust or fear. What if this was a natural instinct to tell me I was in serious danger? I rifled through my purse and retrieved my pepper spray. I couldn’t tell if this was some insane LARPer that I didn’t get out of my library soon enough or if my brain was just addled from too many books, but I wasn’t going to take any chances.

  My being my weird self, I briefly thought about what a riot it would be if I were killed in my own library. Maybe my death would be adapted into a scandalous screenplay or a juicy murder mystery. Of course, these were all just flashes of morbid musings as I sat frozen in my chair. I couldn’t tell if it would be smarter to charge toward him or run out the door. All I knew was that he’d definitely end up with burning eyes if he got too close to me.

  He ended up deciding for both of us as he walked toward me with a sense of purpose. When I shouted even louder, he dropped a literal axe, not some type of foam replica, and my stomach knotted as I watched the building’s ceiling lights play off of its polished metal. I swiveled the red safety lock of my pepper spray so that it was open for business and braced myself for a fight I wasn’t sure I’d survive.

  3

  Troy

  I glanced through the windows of the sorceress’ glass castle, contemplating how it was a strange choice for a stronghold. The creatures outside were similar to our own kind in our unturned forms, even if we had been trapped inside these bodies for centuries. While they walked on hind legs and had familiar anatomy, they were also regrettably skinny. Our dying shaman Kalen had told me that this woman was a far cry from her weak-willed kind and that she had recently grown into her sorcerous powers. More so, she was to be my Fated Mate, an idea I scoffed at, but if this spellmistress would bring about a new renaissance for my people, so be it.

  The one thing that struck me immediately is that she must have become rather bold to reveal herself in a citadel that left itself open to a siege. Perhaps she was inviting a challenge or expecting me, making herself available so we could do away with the formalities.

  During the moment I took note of how she had no guards or weapons affixed to her walls, she howled and withdrew a small tool from her satchel. I wondered if it was one of those wands that Kalen had told tales of. It was no matter if she mistook me for an intruder. Even if she did try to attack me, I could easily resist and simply tell her my intentions.
Any woman, regardless of the land she hailed from, would see a match with a revered warrior as a great boon.

  From the look of her haven, this culture didn’t properly appreciate weapons and instead worshipped books. So, I set my axe down and raised my hands to prove I posed no threat. It didn’t seem to allay her worries in the least, and I was intensely annoyed by her insistence on screaming. Women in my realm had iron-clad spirits and weren’t shaken by the simple sight of a weapon. To tell the truth, they would need to embrace the possibility of an armed man since they were expected to fight on the battlefield as well.

  I paused for a moment and took her in, cocking my head to the side as I studied this creature who Kalen claimed was my Fated Mate. She was a delicate reed of a woman, shivering in her startled state. Her full lips were quite eye catching, and she seemed to have painted them to draw more attention to them. In her present condition, they were quivering, an expression I’d never seen on the stony-faced maidens of my realm.

  She also wore curious maroon spectacles that complemented her raven locks of hair and deep russet eyes. I’d never seen these strange devices before. Some gnomish societies were said to rely upon these as they worked on complex contraptions in their remote lairs, but this was of no concern to the Jörmungandr clan. They never bothered us, and we had no reason to meddle with their affairs.

  “Let’s see…” I began as I examined her beyond physical beauty, seeing how she might be of use to me. “How might I find a proper place for you? You’re a bit slight, aren’t you?”

  Despite her not resembling the battle maidens I was accustomed to, I reasoned that she would be a fine choice. Provided that she carried her own weight in our clan’s crusades with her magic, then I could agree to take her as my woman. I sought to carry her back to my realm before my Sage became too weak to advise us.

  “Excuse me?” she yelped, her nostrils flaring. Luckily for her, this expression of distaste didn’t disrupt her attractiveness. I rather enjoyed that she seemed to have some fight in her, though I couldn’t determine what I said to stir the woman’s frustrations.

  With measured strides, I closed the distance and reached for her hand, preferring to look deliberate even in my haste. This should have been reassuring, as she’d see that her mate was decisive, but this was not the case. Instead, she sprinted free of me, forcing me to chase her.

  “I’ll have time to explain later,” I answered her, trying my best to soothe the pretty stranger. This should have been reassuring, as she’d see that her mate was decisive, but this was not the case. Instead, she sprinted free of me, forcing me to chase her.

  By that, I mean that I needed to only slightly quicken my pace. I was far too fast for this to be a fair contest, but perhaps losing her breath would do her some good. I certainly would enjoy less of a struggle so that we could get this over with and fulfill our duties.

  “Like hell, you will!” she howled, sending a shiver down my spine. She truly had a temper to be reckoned with. It made me even more eager to snatch her away, though I hoped her only talent wasn’t the ability to protest with all her might. That would have been disappointing.

  Once she could dart out the gateway that led outside, I grabbed her wrist with one fluid motion. By doing so, I hoped to convey that I did not wish to hurt her, but I did need her to accompany me.

  “I’m afraid that it is my duty,” I shot back, unable to keep impatience from leaching into my voice.

  Suddenly, she unleashed a rather impressive battle cry that exquisitely contorted her elfin features. How pretty. Perhaps she was the one destined for me. I smirked, although that seemed to unnerve her. The spitfire then assailed me with some minor spell, sending a ray of what had the distinct odor of pepper into my face. Was she a kitchen witch? I had heard of those when I was a young boy and was now quite underwhelmed.

  I blinked with indifference and screwed my lips to the side, uncertain about whether I wished to take this quaint spellcaster with me. I hoped that she was capable of more than that. Still, it may have been a light warning instead of a serious defense.

  I shrugged as she stood silent, her mouth agape and her eyes wide. Perhaps she was hoping for a greater effect. I wondered if I could trade her in for a different Fated Mate if she didn’t refine her craft, but I wouldn’t return empty-handed when my talisman had only a single charge of magic. Finished with the spoiled attempt at negotiation and ready to leave, I picked the sorceress up by her small waist and hoisted her over my shoulder. Without further delay, I walked back over to Kalen’s portal and stepped in as my prize wriggled helplessly.

  4

  Troy

  Kalen had arranged for us to arrive in an empty courtyard where handfasting ceremonies often took place. I supposed it was a testament to his wishful thinking, but I had to admire his foresight. It likely wouldn’t have cheered the girl up to return to my original location in his private quarters, where he languished in ill health.

  Further, she didn’t need to know what this location was for, nor what my true intentions were. All I needed to do was simply divulge that my clan was in dire need of a talented spellcaster. I was reluctant to admit that I was tasked to obtain my Fated Mate, mainly because I wasn’t certain I wanted one.

  I knelt down and set her on her feet, intending to let her stand on her own. She was far too shaken, wobbling unsteadily on her feet, so I took the liberty to set her on a marble bench by our tiger lilies. As she collected herself, I crossed my arms, then folded them behind me, aware that I loomed over her despite my intentions.

  “I have no desire to kill you,” I said plainly as she embraced herself, looking up at me with deep suspicion.

  I allowed the silence to permeate the terrace until she was ready to speak. She was a recently turned sorceress, after all. Perhaps she expected to be hunted for her rare gifts but had not fully prepared herself. The girl swallowed deeply, then gathered the courage to address me.

  What came out was an onslaught of accusations.

  “What the hell just happened? Did you drug me? Choke me? I blacked out as soon as you grabbed me, and I can’t remember a thing until now!” she shouted, gaining confidence now that she had found her voice. “And might I add that this is technically kidnapping! Give me one reason I shouldn’t press charges! It’d better be damn compelling, too.”

  I grinned at her rage, hopeful that I could channel it for better purposes, even if I didn’t grasp the meaning of all of her words. Unfortunately, my admiration for her fiery delivery didn’t endear me to her. Instead, her eyes narrowed, and she slid as far away as possible, to the very end of the bench.

  I sighed and took one step back to appease her. This wasn’t promising. I didn’t have time to soothe this meek creature. By Kalen’s estimates, the Drikkende, the soul-sucking daemons that threatened our clan, were fast approaching, and I would need to secure my Fated Mate before their arrival to steal the essences of my people.

  “Were you to consult our shaman,” I began in a strained tone, fighting myself from gritting my teeth, “you would be told that kidnapping is impossible in this case. This act was simply using cunning and strength to further our fates. You see, you are my…”

  She raised an eyebrow but seemed more curious than offended. Maybe she was comforted to learn there was a sage to consult, that she was not left alone with a single menacing man. That she was not left to his whims.

  I cleared my throat, briefly distracted by that enticing prospect. The delicate creature was a pretty diversion, after all, but I was honor-bound to remain focused.

  “My… clan’s Champion,” I continued, unwilling to delve into all this muck about Fated Mates. “The Jörmungandr clan needs your assistance, and should you agree to our terms, I shall make it worth your while. Further, I’ll see to it that you live like a queen, should you make yourself useful.”

  The last statement came out as a thinly veiled threat. Proper negotiations required a dose of intimidation to be effective, after all.

  Someho
w, though, she seemed immune to my ominous words, wide-eyed and peering up at me like a besotted child. I shifted uncomfortably, wary of her positive reaction. Was she after coin? Luxurious lodgings? A high-status mate? What had her so stirred?

  “The Jörmungandr clan!?” she rasped in awe. “Of the Jörmungandr Manuscripts?!”

  Just then, she shoved a hefty volume forward and gave me a pleading expression that would have melted my heart. If I were prone to sympathy, that is. I hadn’t noticed it when I was stealing her away. She made more of an impression with her slight wand and its laughable pepper ward. Had she grabbed it before I gathered her up? Summoned it here? Whatever happened, she was clearly attached to the tome.

  I couldn’t begin to imagine why.

  “We have plenty more volumes lying about, gathering dust over the moons.” I shrugged dismissively. “As you may have learned, our clan believes the best display of self-mastery is fighting, rather than languishing away with books.”

  Then, to attempt a pleasantry while masking my lack of literacy, I casually added, “What volume did you procure? Surely, there must be much to learn about us if you have just the one. We have more books than we know what to do with, pillaged from the innumerable cultures we have conquered. There simply… isn’t enough time in the realm to read them all.”

  As if all her fear had dissipated, the sorceress leapt off the bench and closed the distance between us with bounding steps. I had to tilt my head down to get a good look at her since she was so slight in stature.

  “Volume eleven! There are forty-seven rumored to exist… and you’re saying you have them all?” A pearly grin lit up her features, and I resented how it made me wish to preserve her brightness.

  Few women in my clan were this expressive, this unashamed about their joys. Our kind favored discipline and restraint. Even our courtship practices revolved around feats of strength. No one would have confessed to a weakness, but this maiden made her passions clear.