The Draglem

Lady Lira waited anxiously at the window of her room. It had been months - months - since he had left and now that the troops were beginning to return home, she hoped and prayed that he would be among them. She had no letters from him, no word of his deeds from his superiors, no reassurance from his comrades that he was alright - and so the only thing she could do was to wait at her window, gazing out at the vast expanse of the kingdom below her and hoping that she would see him come, riding on his horse. All she was told was that he was sent on his own mission a few weeks ago and no one had heard from him since.

She had good reason for being worried. For as long as anyone could remember (and her people prided themselves on their long memories), they had been at war with the dragons. The draglem, the greatest and most fierce of the dragons, had begun the war, desiring the rulership of the land for himself. There used to be a truce, in which the kingdom would sacrifice maidens to appease the beasts; but that, too, eventually failed. Terrible, massive creatures that they were, the dragons had terrorized the countryside for years, pillaging and burning as they went. And the kingdom, in return, attacked the dragons with army upon army of men, armed to the teeth with glittering battle swords, sharp as a dragon's tooth and washed with spells so that they would pierce a dragon's tough hide. Though both sides disagreed on who started the war, all they knew was that they had to fight to keep their honor. And if there was one thing that humans and dragons could agree on, it was that honor was no light matter.

As a noble, she was required to care about the war efforts, especially because she was such a high ranking noble ("the family's the second in line to the throne itself!" her mother would proclaim proudly). But instead of defending her honor through battle, as the men did, she was expected to uphold her family's honor in a different way entirely. A young woman her age was, of course, expected to marry and to be a good wife and despite her vehement protests, Lira was expected to do the same. Lira sighed and turned away from the window, knowing that continuing to watch the trickling line of soldiers returning would only result in dashing her hopes.

Lira was, by any standards, beautiful. She was tall, her body lithe. Because she was so lean, her breasts were small, but the way her hips swayed when she walked made anyone's complaints about lack of voluptuousness vanish. Like her mother, who was said to be a descendent of kings, she had long, silky black hair that spilled over her shoulders in glossy ripples, and pale, moonlit skin that was smoother than butter and always had the scent of mint leaves on it. And like her father, a nobleman of great fame and respect, her eyes were a blazing green, quick to flash in anger, but equally quick to sparkle when she laughed. Lira was known throughout the kingdom for her beauty, her skill with a blade, and for her seemingly cold temperament.

It wasn't that she was a cruel person. On the contrary, she wasn't really cold at all, and she was actually very kind-hearted, and possessed wisdom greater than many of the councilors. But she was deeply misunderstood. The kingdom's council could never understand why when the mentioned marriage, her eyes clouded to a far away look and she suddenly seemed sad. They couldn't fathom why when they spoke of her successes, she only nodded, seemingly disinterested. She was never exactly "cold," but rather, disinterested, but the council never could comprehend such a thing, and so labeled her as such. But Lira had her reasons.

Born into a noble house, she had been, as all nobles were, taken to a soothsayer after she was born and was given her fortune. Her destiny, it seemed, was that she would one day marry a powerful and noble king, and as a queen, would end the centuries long war. Upon hearing her fortune, her parents immediately began their planning: searching for noble suitors, seeking marriage proposals, and even preliminary planning wedding planning. They could hardly contain their excitement. Their daughter, though at the time who was only an infant was the one destined to end the war!

The war had been hard on the kingdom. The royal line was strong, but not as strong as it was in the days of old. The people needed something to give them hope, something to boost morale. And Lira was the answer to the problem. According to the prophecy, in order to end the war, all she had to do was get married to a man with at least a drop of royal blood (which included a rather huge number of noblemen). "What luck!" the other noble girls would tell her enviously, sighing as they gazed at the long lines of potential suitors.

But Lira was not like the other noble girls. She never desired to be caged in a palace, forced to marry a man she did not love. No, that was not like Lira at all. She wanted, more than anything, freedom. Behind her parents' backs, she began to trade as a shieldmaiden, hoping to one day defend her own honor in battle. She was not some little girl, dependent on her parents for the smallest thing. She was a grown woman and was determined to make her own choices; not be married off like some dog.

She had met Rajar after a day of perusing suitors. Stressed, disheartened, and completely exasperated, she had fled from her parents' quarters in the palace to the Arena, desiring to vent her frustration through sword practice. But when she got to the usually empty training hall, she was surprised to find that it was occupied. There was a man in the middle of the cavernous hall, his body poised, holding a gleaming blade aloft in a defensive position. Lira watched in wonder as he began to practice a sequence of fighting stances, moving with practiced ease between each set, his body's movements fluid and sure, his face relaxed, but his eyes bright in concentration. And he performed them perfectly, without a single flaw, and with great skill.

During one of the sets, the man's body twisted itself towards her, and she made no attempt to hide herself. He had froze, his body suddenly rigid in surprise, then he relaxed. He smiled gently and asked if she was lost. Lira, though her nostrils flared at his kindly tone, corrected him and told him she was shieldmaiden and had come to practice. The man covered his shock quickly, immediately apologizing for taking up the hall, and even offering to leave if she cared to use it alone. But Lira had already been biting back a smile and, in the wake of her line of failed suitors, suddenly felt relief that there was at least one man she could, at the time, actually stand.

Lira was not one for "love at first sight," but she soon grew rather fond of Rajar. Rajar was, unlike the other men she was forced to visit, not of noble blood in the least. His family was of the merchant class, and so he was well-educated, but times of war called for fighters, not scholars, and so he enlisted. And he was extraordinarily talented.

So after hours and hours of endless small talk and disgustingly mundane brunches, Lira was able to escape to the Arena to practice her swordsmanship with Rajar. And as they practiced, he would tell her of his family, like outside the palace for a commoner, and about the war effort, while she would tell him about her travels, what she heard from the "higher ups," and about her endless stream of suitors, which seemed to amuse him. And after months of the same pattern and after finding solace in only one individual who seemed to be the only one who understood her, she began to come to realization that she was in love with Rajar.

Her parents did everything they could. They set her up with suitors, only to have her turn them away; they sent her away to distant lands to fall in love, but she only returned with tales of adventure and none of love; they forbade her from her shieldmaiden duties, which only resulted in resentment and even more sneaking out to practice; and they finally had to choice but to lock her in the palace until she agreed to submit to their terms. Lira had been caged for almost a year and even though the servants knew better than to let her practice with a sword and the guards knew that they had to keep an extra well trained eye on her, Lira still didn't submit. She told her parents, in front of the entire hall, that she would never marry a man whom she didn't love and that no amount of caging would break her.

No one could understand why she didn't marry the prince. It was, after all, her destiny. But Lira didn't care. She knew that her heart wanted Rajar.

But that had all been years ago. Years of practice and hardship, years of courtship, then finally, a year of bliss. Rajar had loved her for a long time, but never acted on it because the last thing that Lira needed was another suitor, but when Lira suddenly became receptive to his affections, he was more than happy. They managed to keep it a secret for a year before they were discovered.

Her parents had already forced the military to ban her from going on missions as a warrior, they already took away her sword, her first love and passion, and now they took away her freedom. What else could they possibly take?

It turned out, her parents could take Rajar.

Being from an incredibly wealthy and powerful noble family, Lira's family was second only to the king, and so they had a great deal of power over such matters. Within a week, Rajar had been sent on a "speciality mission," which was never good news, and Lira had been confined within the palace walls.

So now the once powerful Lady Lira, famed equally for her beauty and her blade, was now trapped in the palace, like a helpless princess in a tower, waiting for her love to return.

***

She didn't have much longer to wait. After months of anxiety, Lira finally heard the sound she had longed for: "Lira," said the soft voice she knew so well.

Immediately, she whirled around from her place beside the window, her eyes wide in surprise and relief. And there stood Rajar, tall and every bit the warrior that she was, her equal in every way. His skin had been bronzed by the sun after his long journey, and his dark hair was perhaps longer than how he would usually wear it, but his brown eyes shone in happiness when he saw her face and in that moment, all of her fears and worry melted away.

"Rajar!" she whispered in disbelief, running to him and throwing herself into his arms. "You're back!"

He laughed as he spun her around and kissed her face. "Lira!" he breathed, his eyes gleaming. "How I've missed you!"

"Raj," she pulled away. "You've been gone for months -- I didn't know if you were dead or alive or -- "

"Lira," he cupped his hands around her chin, calming her. "I'm back now. And that's what matters." He kissed her gently. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to write. I would have if I were able to, but I'm afraid I was rather far away."

She pushed his hands away stubbornly. "Why were you sent away from the rest of the troops? They came back weeks ago! And without any word of your whereabouts. Raj, I almost thought -- I almost thought you were --"

"Shhh," he held her close to him. "I know, I know. But I'm alright, Lira. I promise."

"I'm glad you're back," she murmured. "I've missed you." They broke their embrace and she gently brushed a strand of his dark hair from his eyes and she noticed that his deep brown eyes had changed ever so slightly and were now peppered with flecks of gold. "Rajar, your eyes - "

A smiled flickered on the corners of his mouth. "Never mind that. You wouldn't believe how much I've missed you." He gently kissed her cheek. "I'm just glad to be back."

She smiled and led him to the courtyard where there was a table that they usually sat at during his visits. "At least tell me about the mission. I've been locked up in here the entire time! I'd kill to hear about anything other than tea parties and tapestries!"

He laughed. "Ah, not much to tell. A lot of walking, a lot of cold nights." He wrapped his arms around her. "Those mountains can be cold, you know."

"And the mission? Were you successful?"

Rajar's face darkened momentarily. "No," he said slowly, "not entirely."

She raised a brow, but knew better than to ask. There were some things that warriors didn't talk about. She pushed the thought aside. "Well, I'm glad you're here, safe and sound."

Rajar's brow knitted at this. After a long moment, he shook his head and pushed himself to his feet. "Alright," he said abruptly, straightening his shirt with a firm tug, "I need to get going now."

"Going?" Lira repeated in surprise. "You just got here. And you already want to leave?"

He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "I don't want to leave, Lira. But I just got back and I should probably report in first - "

"You haven't reported in yet?" Lira drew back in surprise. Every warrior knew that the first thing you did upon returning from a trip - especially when you return from a prolonged solo mission - was report to head quarters. She frowned slightly. "That's not like you."

A muscle in his neck twitched. "It just slipped my mind - "

Lira narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Usually, he, like the other warriors trained in infiltration, was good at telling a convincing lie, but he seemed unable to keep his face blank. Concern whirled in her mind. "Rajar, what aren't you telling me?"

"It's nothing, Lira; it's just something I have to do."

Lira did not relent. "I haven't seen you in months and the first thing you do is come here for a fifteen minute chat, and then leave me to run an errand?"

"Lira, I - "

"Is it about the mission? If it is, just say so. I know better than to ask questions about things like that." She let her arms drop to her sides. "If you want a few days to adjust, that's fine. Just tell me the truth and don't make up some foolish lie. Don't treat me like a common housewife; I deserve better than that."

He smiled weakly. "I know you do. Lira, you know I would tell you anything. I just - this is different."

"Different how?"

Rajar closed his eyes, as if the memory pained him. "I can't tell you - not everything, at least."

"Then tell me something." She paused. "I can't help you if you don't talk to me, Raj. And you're starting to scare me."

He nodded and slowly lowered himself back into his chair, his mind flashing back to where he had been before he had returned to the kingdom. Rajar closed his eyes, and even in the golden torchlight his face seemed to pale. "The draglem," he whispered in a voice so quiet so could scarcely hear the sound as it left his lips. "I - I met the draglem."

Lira's eyes immediately blazed. Everyone in the kingdom knew what the draglem was, though few even knew what it looked like. The stories of its power and magic were enough to keep everyone in line, out of fear. The draglem was the name they gave to the great beast, the greatest of all the dragons. In the dragon kingdom beyond the protective mountain borders, it was said that the draglem was king. Those lucky enough to glimpse the draglem from a distance and survive were a rarity. And Rajar had met it? She shook her head. The mission must have gone very badly indeed: no mission would ever send a human to see the draglem. "Rajar, what do you mean, the draglem?" she said slowly.

"The draglem!" he said sharply, looking up quickly when he realized that Lira was incredulous of his claim. "I met it!"

"No one's ever met the draglem and returned. How is this possible?"

He swallowed. "It - he - did something - to me. That's why I have business to take care of. I need to meet with a wizard and make sure that I'm - safe."

"Safe?" she said incredulously. "What do you think he did to you? Why wouldn't you be safe?" When Rajar didn't answer, Lira pressed forward. "Rajar, what happened?"

He shook his head. "I don't know," he said hopelessly. "All I know is that I had a dream - at least, I think it was a dream - and I have to make sure. I have to make sure it was only a dream and not real, because if it were real, I could hurt you." He cupped her face in his hands. "And I would never do anything to hurt you. I just want to make sure."

She covered his hands with hers, holding them to her face. "You would never hurt me. I know you wouldn't." She kissed him. "But you have to tell me what's going on? What happened?"

He hesitated, his mind racing. He loved Lira and he wanted to tell her the truth, but he also wanted to protect her. Quickly, he began to spin a story that would hopefully keep her sated. Lira was far too headstrong to sit passively and wait for him to deal with his problem on his own; better that she think everything was alright that give her another issue to deal with. She already had enough with her parents and their obsession with her birth prophecy.

He took a deep breath. "It was the mission. Something - something went wrong and I was separated from the others. I don't know how it happened, but I somehow found myself on the mountain, alone." The memory burned in his mind, but he quickly smoothed over the details. "I saw a cave at the top of the mountain and I needed shelter from the storm, so I climbed up and - " He shuddered involuntarily, remembering what had happened in that cave, but he quickly pushed the thought from his mind. "And I saw the draglem." Rajar swallowed, and avoided describing the massive dragon to Lira. "It was - it was something I wasn't expecting. I wasn't expecting to deal with - something like that."

Lira had masked her expression from him, but he could see the quizzical look in her eyes, but he had nothing more to give. If he told her anything else, she'd press for more answers and she'd piece together what had happened to him. And what if she hated him for it? What if it repulsed her? He was already terrified out of his mind that the prophecy would come true; and as much as he liked fairy tales, he knew he was no prince. He couldn't risk it. He had never lied to her before, but he knew the truth would hurt worse. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I know that's not a satisfactory explanation, but it's all I can give you right now. Just know that I'm doing this to protect you. I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't hurt me," she said quietly. "Just tell me the truth and we'll deal with it together." When Rajar didn't look convinced, she repeated. "You wouldn't hurt me."

He smiled thinly. "I hope not. But I would never be able to forgive myself if I did." He kissed her brow and quickly changed the topic. "Lira, I just had to see you when I got home. After everything that's happened, you were the one face that I needed to see; but now I have to go. It's something I have to do." He smiled. "It's probably nothing, but I'd feel better if I checked first."

Lira's brow was still furrowed. "Raj, are you alright? You look - frightened. I've never seen you like this."

Rajar quickly checked himself. "I'm fine," he said quickly. "I'll go to the head wizard and have him check me out. But it's probably nothing." The last thing he wanted to do was to worry her. And he certainly didn't want to be pressured into telling her every detail of what had happened. Perhaps later, but not now. So he moved forward and kissed her.

She fell into the kiss and he could almost hear her purring with contentment. He smiled to himself. She had missed him. And he had certainly missed her.

As they continued to kiss, their kiss steadily becoming more and more passionate until their tongues were writhing together and their hearts were beating wildly, Rajar suddenly realized that not only had he not seen Lira in months, but he also hadn't done something else in quite some time...

"Lira!" he moaned softly in her ear. "We - we have to stop - "

"Why?" she breathed in his ear. "We have time - "

Rajar closed his eyes, feeling her smooth skin against his own. It had been so long; but he promised himself that he would pay a visit to the kingdom's elder wizard to check to see if he had any spells upon him first... but Lira's body was so tempting, so seductive...