by Hanna Dare
“You’re back.” She tucked a dark curl behind her ear. “Folk were starting to wonder if you’d be gone through the winter, but here you are.”
“That’s right.”
Her smile grew wider as she waited for Tris to tell some stories of the road or to say anything at all.
“Is Lily here?”
“Of course, the spice merchant was in town this morning.” She paused and grinned archly, like that was supposed to mean something.
“Oh?” Tris asked with some effort.
“There’s a new spice merchant who’s been coming by the last few weeks. A bit old for my tastes.” She looked significantly at Tris. “But he is sort of the dark and mysterious type, and Lily is all smiles and dimples whenever he’s around. She never flirts! Or barely ever. It’s something to see. I swear, the staff has been talking of nothing else.” She clearly expected Tris to press her for more details, but he said nothing. “But, uh, he’s not here right now. So… I guess I should get her for you?”
“Please.”
She nodded, her smile slipping away.
“Thank you, Idna. Sorry, I’m just tired, I guess.”
“Have a seat then and I’ll bring you some food along with your sister.”
She went off briskly and Tris sat down with a sigh. It was his usual table, the one that he’d carved his name into the underside, but he didn’t reach to touch the letters like he usually did.
There was a happy cry from somewhere in the vicinity of the kitchen and then Lily was rushing into the room toward him, her cheeks flushed pink and her arms flung wide. Seeing her knocked some of the numbness from his heart and Tris jumped up to let himself be wrapped up in a hug.
He bent his head to rest it on her soft shoulder. “It’s good to see you.”
Lily laughed. “I didn’t get a chance to actually see you.” She held him at arms’ length. “Too thin again. That hair certainly hasn’t seen a comb in a while. And what exactly is happening on your chin?”
Tris rubbed at the admittedly patchy beard he’d grown on the road and shrugged.
Her face changed, the smiling crinkles around her brown eyes shifting into something more concerned. “Tris, are you—”
“Hungry? Definitely, and thirsty for some of your famous ale,” he said quickly. “It really is the best in all the kingdom.”
“Of course it is,” she said. “I’ll pour you some and then you can tell me everything that’s happened.” She started to turn and then gave him a firm look over her shoulder. “Everything.”
He’d never been able to keep anything from his sister. His whole life, she’d always been able to pry a secret out of him. Most of the time she didn’t even have to pry — something about her knowing expression was enough to get him talking right away.
But this time it was different. Tris told her about finding the Earl, about how he’d helped rescue a captive dragon. But he left out a lot. The amulets. The sword fight with Marius. Every sort of feeling that he’d had and definitely all of the sex. In his version, Ormur had merely thanked him politely and flown away.
Still, Lily’s eyes were wide when Tris finally ran out of words.
“That was—” She shook her head. “What are you going to tell Ma and Papa?”
Tris winced. “Very little? Maybe just that I got a job with the Earl for a while and then he died. I won’t get into dragons or magic or anything like that.”
Tris picked at the food that Idna had brought out before she went back to her other duties. It was better than anything he’d had in weeks, but he didn’t have much of an appetite.
Lily stared at him sadly. “You aren’t going to tell me, are you?”
“Tell you what?”
“What’s made you so sad. Or who.”
He shook his head. “I think I need to keep it to myself for a while.”
“There was a time I could get you to tell me.”
“Not this time, Lil.”
“You’ve changed.”
He met her gaze. “I’m still me.”
She smiled. “Yes, but now you’re all grown up, aren’t you?”
He could’ve protested that he’d been an adult for a while, but instead he nodded. She was right.
Lily squeezed his arm, her eyes shiny with a hint of tears. “Do I have to call you Tristram now instead of Tris?
He made a face. “Please don’t. Then all I’ll think of is Great-Uncle Tristram and he smelled of farts.”
She swatted at him. “Stop! He was very old. And you’re not exactly smelling like flowers yourself right now.”
“Excuse me, but I’ve been walking for days.”
“Well, you can have a bath here and then go up to the house looking fresh. It’ll cut down on the fussing.” It was comforting to let Lily take charge. She eyed his plate. “But first you need to eat more.”
“I thought the goal was less fussing?” She gave him a stern look and he stuffed some mutton into his mouth. Some of the tension had already left his shoulders, and he turned his attention to his sister. “So what’s this I hear about a mysterious spice merchant?”
Lily’s round cheeks blushed even as she rolled her eyes. “All those barmaids do is gossip. He’s just a merchant who comes through the valley every few days. His name is Martin and he’s a bit more interesting than the usual folk I have to deal with. That’s all.”
“Oh, that’s all? Really?”
“Well,” Lily admitted, “he did bring me flowers yesterday.”
“Whoa!” Tris grinned. “When’s the wedding?”
“Shut up. It’s nothing, just harmless fun. I’m too fond of my life right now to want to change anything about it. Though,” she added thoughtfully, “spice merchants do travel a lot and I like the idea of someone leaving before I get bored.”
“Lily!”
“What? You think I want a man who’ll stick around and offer opinions on how to run my business? A husband?” She scoffed before smoothing her hair back with a decided air. “When he comes by next, you’ll have to meet him and tell me what you think.”
He gave her a stern look. “I’ll definitely be asking him his intentions toward my sister. Or warning him of yours.”
She threw a bit of roasted turnip at his head. “You’ll do no such thing!”
Lily laughed, and if Tris couldn’t quite manage to join her, he still felt a little lighter than when he had arrived.
“I’ll see you later at the house for supper,” Lily called to him as Tris, bathed, shaved, and fully fed, finally left the inn. He was reluctant, both to see his parents and to have to get on with his life.
He fixed a pleasant expression on his face in case he ran into anyone he knew on the road through the village, reminding himself that he’d had his adventure and now he was home. All was well. He would learn soon not to dream of wings and sharp eyes with hints of gold.
He was trying to be all determined and resolved, so it wasn’t helping that his mind had decided to replay the sound of wings beating against the air. Tris shook his head to clear it, but the sound only grew louder. A shadow fell over him.
Tris looked up. There was a confusing blur as a huge shape dove toward him from the sky. He saw a flash of sharp claws—
Tris was snatched off his feet, caught in Ormur’s grip. Everything was a rush of wind and the ground dropping away and the wild exhilaration of flying. For one glorious moment he laughed with the sheer wonder of it. Then he got angry.
“What are you doing?” he roared over the wind rushing past him.
Now that he’d got his bearings back and figured out what was up and what was down, he could see a few figures on the road, that and the village below, some shepherds on the meadows with their flocks — all of those people staring up at them.
“Everyone can see you!”
“I don’t care,” Ormur said.
“Well, I do!”
“Ashamed of me?” Ormur sounded more amused than offended, which was even more annoying.
/> “This valley is not a safe place for dragons — it has a history.”
“Oh, I know all about Shadow’s Vale,” Ormur replied. “The sheep, the cheese, the ale, the occasional dragon battle. You talked of little else for weeks. How could I resist seeing such wonders for myself?”
“Find a place to land. Now. If you’re going to be all rude and sarcastic you can at least do it to my face.”
Ormur flew higher, soaring across the valley. For a moment Tris thought he was heading for the burnt and crumbled crag that had been the Lookout — scene of the valley’s last dragon incident eleven years ago. Tris opened his mouth to object because that definitely was too much history for comfort, but Ormur kept flying toward the mountain peaks. He was flying straight at the mountain, but at the last second he tilted and flew through the narrow gap between two peaks. Tris would’ve whooped with delight, but he wasn’t going to give Ormur the satisfaction.
They kept going, with Tris climbing up Ormur’s claws a bit to a better view. He had no idea what Ormur was doing or why he was here, but the flying part was incredible.
“How long is this kidnapping supposed to go on?” Tris finally shouted. “I thought you were going to land.”
Ormur didn’t turn his head back to look at him, but Tris got the feeling that if he did his eyebrows would be arched. Not that dragons had eyebrows. “You were so concerned about being seen, I wanted to find something out of the way.”
“And that means dragging me across the entire kingdom?
“We’re here. You can stop pretending to be so put out.” His voice softened. “I know you love to fly. I can feel it in your heartbeat and the way you breathe. You’re joyful.”
Tris frowned, not wanting to admit anything. “Well, I think that’s rude, listening in on a person’s private parts.”
Ormur snorted in a loud and dragon-y sort of way.
They did seem to be descending. Tris glimpsed a tiny green valley cut through with a river. Ormur aimed for what looked to be a stone structure. As they set down, Tris saw that the structure was actually an enormous statue of man, fallen on its side. It was broken in places and hung with vines.
“What is this place?” Tris asked as Ormur released him smoothly onto his feet.
“It was once a royal hunting lodge. That’s a statue of one of your kings. I knocked it over a couple centuries ago.” Ormur had a leather strap around his long neck that was attached to a large rucksack and he shrugged it off before settling back onto his haunches. “I was in a mood.”
“Is that why you brought me here? To remind me that you don’t like humans?”
“In my defence, he was a terrible king.” Ormur clawed at a bunch of ivy, revealing the face of the toppled statue.
Tris shrugged. The carved face, bearded and stern, meant nothing to him.
“And I don’t mind humans so much, at least, not all of them,” Ormur said.
“Right, you just hate dragons more.”
Ormur looked at the statue and then tilted his great head to regard Tris. It was hard to read expressions on a dragon, but Tris got the feeling Ormur was reluctant.
“It was because of humans that I gave up on dragonkind,” Ormur admitted. “I was very young and full of passion. I thought — I proposed — that dragons unite to defeat the humans of this land.”
“What?” Tris felt queasy. “You mean like go to war?”
Ormur scratched almost nervously at the ground. “There were more hunters back then, royal edicts and bounties, knights with swords — it felt like we already were at war.”
“Oh.” Tris considered. “I guess that makes sense. It must have been awful.”
“I always think I’ll reach the limit of your understanding, but I never do.” His tail lashed about. “I wanted to kill everyone, Tris. Slaughter your great great-grandparents and burn your village and others like it to the ground.”
“But you didn’t.”
“Not for wont of trying. The other dragons — they were more interested in safeguarding their treasures, even fleeing their territories to do so. Or they went to sleep in their caves and hoped the world would be better when they woke. No one listened to me.” He twitched, scales glinting in the sunlight. “I was so angry, so convinced of my rightness, that I decided I was done with them. I would live among humans and either find a way to defeat them or the proof that they were so wretched that the other dragons would have to change their minds.”
Tris didn’t want to ask, but he felt he needed to know. “And did you find it?”
A single golden eye fixed on him. “That’s just it. The more time I spent among humans, I found that, yes, some of them were evil, or stupid, or just very very annoying, but that’s true of dragons as well. Humans are just… people.”
Tris could’ve said that was obvious, but there were so many folk who didn’t see dragons as people, only beasts or monsters. “So no more war then? Even after everything the Earl did to you?”
Ormur bowed his head, his neck a graceful curve. “The old man is dead, and I’ve found that hatred is a cage of a different kind. I don’t want to live in it anymore.”
Tris started to open his mouth to speak but then Ormur shimmered and shrugged a bit and suddenly he was human-shaped, with long silver-white braids and wearing a close-cut tunic, breeches and boots.
“You didn’t have to change,” Tris said.
“I was worried that I was looming.”
Tris folded his arms across his chest, all the better to protect himself against the feelings that were stirring at seeing Ormur in this form again. “What are you doing, Ormur? Why bring me here and tell me all this?” He thought of the days of sadness and pain that had begun when Ormur had left him at the waterfall. “Why now?”
Ormur rubbed at his sharp chin and dodged Tris’s gaze. “I went looking for you. After. I tried to retrace your steps and wandered that ghastly town, Rivermouth, for days, asking about you to no avail. Finally, an old man in a very questionable tavern said he knew you, but he wouldn’t say more until I beat him at cards.”
Tris stared, impressed despite everything. “You played Gilbert? And won?”
Ormur rolled his eyes. “I’m two hundred and fifty years old, Tris, I can tell when someone’s cheating at cards. But even then all he told me was that you’d left. Days before. I’d missed you again. I flew over the roads, hoping, but I couldn’t find you.”
“I was on a river barge for a while.”
“Ah, that makes sense. In any case, the only thing I could think of was to come here. Circle high above the valley and watch and wait.” He seemed weary and sad. “I knew you’d come back eventually.”
Tris had been many days on the road walking, and not quickly either, because of his own sadness, and the thought of Ormur waiting all that time moved him. Still— “Did you have to grab me off the middle of the road? In broad daylight?”
“I can’t exactly swoop in through trees or the roof of whatever barn you’re bedding down in at night.” Ormur’s expression shifted to something a bit more guilty. “Perhaps I was trying to be dramatic.”
“You think? I live there! All the questions I’m going to have to answer. My parents—”
Ormur took a step closer, his face intent. “You’ve been chasing adventure for years, Tris. I actually did listen when you talked of your travels and the places you still wanted to see. You never wanted to come back here, not truly. I just rescued you from a stifling life as a shepherd.”
“I never asked you to!”
Ormur drew his eyebrows together fiercely. Then he leaned back. “I was just about to reply that I never asked you to rescue me either, but I did. Repeatedly. I guess I hoped I could return the favor.”
“But why?” Tris asked more quietly. “You left. You said you wanted to be rid of me.” His voice cracked a little at the end.
“I regretted it. Even as I was saying it.”
“But you still flew away.”
“Yes, I did.”
&
nbsp; Tris waited for him to say more, but Ormur seemed to be struggling. Tris sat down among the grass and began ripping the heads off wildflowers. It was better than shaking Ormur to get him to speak.
Ormur folded his long legs to sit opposite him. “I was afraid. I had told myself that I would do anything to get out of that cage and then you came along.”
“I don’t mind that you used me,” Tris said. “You had to get out, I know that.” He looked up, squinting in the sunlight and hoping that it would disguise that his eyes were filling with tears. “But it still hurt.”
Ormur started to reach for him, but Tris flinched back. “I was lying,” Ormur said. “To you and myself. All I can do now is tell you the truth and hope that I have not ruined everything completely.”
“And what’s the truth?”
Ormur stared at him, his eyes wide. “That I love you.”
Tris felt like the ground was rocking beneath him and he was glad he was already sitting. “What?”
“I love you, Tris. I was too proud and stubborn to admit it, but that is the truth.” He crept toward Tris, crouching low to meet his eyes as Tris stared at the ground in confusion. “It’s not an easy thing to say after all these years of telling myself that I don’t need anyone or anything, but I do need you. So much.”
“But why? I’m just a human. A shepherd from a small village. Why me?”
Ormur reached out and this time Tris let him tilt his face up to meet his eyes. “Because you are the best person — human or dragon — that I have ever known. I flew for days after I left you. It was all aimless and the world was gray. For the first time I understood how dragons could let themselves go to sleep forever. Turning to stone seemed like a better alternative than having to live through all the empty days to come. But then I thought how everything would look through your eyes and that was… You remind me of how good the world can be. I’d forgotten how to dream.”
Tris could only stare, searching Ormur’s face for some trace of doubt, but it was wide open and even a little scared.
