The Dragon's Bride Ch. 01

Sensing his mood, the old man chided, "This war has lasted many years, my lord, it is no wonder that those who have been by your side since the beginning are growing weary. They look forward to the end of the violence, just as you do. Do not dwell on those who are tired, take hope in the new blood that burns to carry on your mission."

Aurixis said nothing, knowing that the steward was just as aware as he that the violence would not end with the conquering of Abarra. It would only be the beginning of the true war. The nightmares that haunted his dreams would soon step foot on land, bringing with them the bloodlust and hatred he had seen in his nightly terrors.

"Bah," was all he said, but with enough good nature that his old companion grinned in relief, glad to see the Emperor's humor held. Aurixis turned back towards the war table, and he felt the presence of the old man join him, curious to see what held his attention.

It had been difficult to keep up the good mood, looking at the map. He had hoped that with time he would come to regard his Empire with pride, and hope, but instead he looked upon the massive sprawling map and saw only the lives that he was tasked with preserving.

"I am afraid, Carlisle," he said, softly. "If I cannot keep them together, if I cannot convince them to shed their old hatreds, then we will not survive." Eons of petty rivalries had made it so that neighbors hated neighbors, and no one nation trusted another. Even though they were all joined together under his black and gold banner, they had not found a common enemy.

Not yet.

But it was coming. He had seen their leathery skin and blackened eyes, void of anything but lust and hunger. They were bestial in a way that he was not, for while he kept his mind when he was in his draconic form, they were nothing but devourers of the living. And he knew they came. He dreamed of them every night.

Carlisle didn't say anything for a moment, merely reached for the dark figurine that Aurixis had held minutes before. The citrine eyes glared balefully at the old man, and Aurixis felt a hint of shame for his vanity.

"That is why you are here," the old man said, looking up at Aurixis. The dragon was confused until he realized the old man spoke of his fears. "Many of your citizens hate and fear you, as a conqueror and monster, which you well know. They will rally behind an Empress of their homeland, though, one who is seemingly forced to wed you against her will. They will adore her, and when she begins to preach of your goodwill, it is behind her image that they will join."

As it was wished. Aurixis had long ago accepted the role of the loathed conqueror, but it did not make it any less bitter to accept the hatred often casually thrown his way.

"Thank you, old man," he said, softly, the term an endearing one. "You keep my head level during these times of crisis. I have not yet heard back from the Queen, and I dread the idea of this turning into a siege. I do not have the time or patience to drag this out. I fear what I might have to do if the Queen rejects my offer to treat." He had hoped to take Abarra peacefully, as he could not afford to shift in and out of his draconic form too many more times, but he was running out of options. It had taken longer to get through the mountains than he had hoped, and winter was nearing quickly.

Not to mention the real enemy did not loiter while he solved petty disputes such as this. If the Queen did not agree to meet with him tonight, then he would take action. One way or another.

"Give her time," Carlisle said, but his voice was subdued. As much as the old man wished to preach restraint, they both knew that now was not the time to show it. The time for restraint had come and gone. "She is a smart leader, she will do what is best for her people, even if not for herself."

He hoped so.

A noise at the entrance of the tent drew Aurixis' eyes, warning him that someone approached. The gloves he had discarded while penning the Queen's note were quickly retrieved, and he slid them over slightly-sharpened nails and knuckles speckled with small, black scales. Imperfections that he hid the best he could, imperfections he knew could at any time reveal his secret.

Carlisle, who was the one person alive who had seen his appearance and knew exactly what he was underneath the mask and hood he wore, made no comment. He merely moved to the front of the tent, intercepting the guard who made to enter.

The man saluted the Emperor, then stated to Carlisle and Aurixis both, "The Queen approaches." The man's voice was breathy, as if he had run to the news, and Aurixis nodded, dismissing him with a wave of his hand. The guard was gone just as quickly as he had arrived. The armor-clad man cast one more glance around the tent, then stepped outside, his steward following a moment later.

It was not yet sunset, though the golden globe hovered slightly over the horizon, threatening to splash the evening in a wash of orange and pinks. In moments it would touch the earth, and begin to phase from the sky.

The soldiers of the black and gold army had come to attention as they had noticed the gates to the city opening, and most now stood back as the Queen and her entourage approached his tent by carriage. It was a luxurious thing, a brilliant white with golden accents that was led by a team of white horses. Flanking on either side were four guards, each riding massive black destriers and holding pikes that would do no good in one-on-one battles, but certainly looked intimidating to the foot soldiers they rode through.

Aurixis' eyes scanned the approaching group, watching as his army closed in around the envoy, trapping her within a sea of black silk uniforms. He had no doubt that there was at least one lady's aide in the carriage with her, maybe more. Perhaps a veritable retinue, he mused, a smile cracking underneath his mask. She was brave to meet him at all, he had to admit, no matter how many she brought with her. She would lose them all soon regardless--alone, he had said. At least for the talk.

The carriage pulled abreast of the tent, cutting off the rest of the camp from what was occurring between himself and the Queen within the vehicle. Two guards flanked him on either side of the war tent, standing with tall spears tipped with obsidian points and feathered in gold feathers. They stared ahead solemnly, eyes locked as if they were unseeing, though he knew they noticed all.

A guard opened the door to the carriage, offering his hand to allow the woman down. Aurixis' eyes were drawn to her hand, first, then spread over the rest of her as she emerged out into the dawning sunset.

She was beautiful, with her hair a bold red, and her skin pale and fair. She had donned a stunning dark forest dress that accentuated her curves, with flecks of silver and gold that matched the golden pendant that rested in the hollow of her throat. Her neck was covered with high white lace that was ridged with metal, giving it an oddly armor-like look. Topping it off was her crown, reminding him that he spoke to a Queen, not a peasant or even a simple Lady.

A strange heat washed over him as she regarded him, and he realized with a start it was need. Looking at her, he craved her with the same, possessive need that he felt towards beautiful jewels, or piles of wealth. It nearly shook a chuckle from him, to be reminded so starkly of his draconic nature, his covetous desire to possess and hoard anything beautiful, even the living. He pushed it aside for now, but it was impossible to completely ignore the strange draw he felt towards her. It had been many years, since his last shift, perhaps, since he had craved a human so intensely.

If the discussions went well, soon his appetite might be sated.

The man who had guided her down, then announced her, "I introduce Queen Deidre of Abarra, first of her name and Last of the royal Allwin line, here to meet at the request of Emperor Aurixis, the Dragon of Draakar and Emperor of the Draakan Empire." The Queen's head dipped respectfully, her eyes shadowed. He could not read her, which disquieted him. But, she had come.

Aurixis clasped a hand over his chest, bowing his head. As he raised it, he noted that her guards who could witness the exchange were surprised. There was a time and a place for civility, and clearly, the Queen was expecting such.

"A pleasure to meet you at long last, Queen Deidre," he said, his voice a soft rumble through the mask. His voice was deep, almost rasping as he spoke, another imperfection. "I apologize for summoning you so to my camp, but I am afraid I am short on time and cannot wait to treat any longer. Would you care to join me within the war tent? I'm sure you remember the terms I sent." He spoke gently, reminding her that if she attempted to bring her guards into the tent then she would cause a scene.

The Queen looked up, her eyes meeting his, a flash of pale blue fire before she nodded. "Of course." She held up a hand as she stepped away from her guards, preventing them from following her as she entered the dark, shaded shelter.

One made to complain, a younger guard than the others, saying, "Your Grace--," before the Queen silenced him, shaking her head firmly.

"No, I must go alone, as agreed, Alric." The Queen had spoken decisively, but she turned to Aurixis, adding, "Will you at least do me the service of assuring me that my party will come to no harm while I am in your care?"

"Of course. You men will be safe with mine, Queen Deidre, I assure you of that." His voice rumbled out, again that soft, quiet rasp that was a leftover symptom of his imperfect form. He had no reason to execute them right now, even if his negotiations with the Queen went south this evening. A siege on Abarra would be difficult with their access to the ocean, but it would not be impossible. It would take time, though, and time was something that Aurixis simply didn't have to spare. The nightmares came more frequently, now, and with more intensity.

He turned, leading the way into the tent, and he felt Deidre follow behind him. As she did so, two guards who had been standing on either side of the entrance shifted slightly, stepping into place at the entrance and blocking any from following. Their spears carefully lowered until they crossed, creating a physical barrier of entry. It wasn't a necessary gesture, but it was a loud one.

The Queen was blessedly compliant; he'd been fearful that she might make a fuss, either resisting his directives or even outright ignoring his summons to the field. The last thing he wanted tonight was to start a war, and he hoped she understood that. Her back was stiff as she walked ahead of him, entering the tent and walking towards the edge of the war map. Her eyes were naturally drawn to her own nation, and he thought he saw her frown as she realized it was unlabeled.

By summoning her here he was allowing them both the chance to end this without bloodshed, and from the reports he had gathered on her, that was what they both wanted most. Everything he had read and heard about Queen Deidre indicated that she was a good queen, one who put the health and welfare of her people first. It was unfortunate that soon she would not be in the role for much longer. Perhaps, if negotiations went well tonight, she could still be of use to him and her kingdom.

"Is there something I may get for you? Tea? Coffee?" He would not imbibe, the mask preventing him from eating or drinking until he was alone and could reveal his imperfect shift, but he found that the offer usually put guests at ease.

The queen instead shook her head. She watched him withs suspicious, but carefully concealed eyes. She was young, but when she spoke, she didn't stutter or trip over her words. Instead, she seemed to accuse him.

"You have come at last." Her words were spoken so softly he had to turn his head, not for the first time cursing the mask that deafened and blinded him to the world.

He nodded, though, acknowledging the accusation. "You knew that I would, eventually." He had come to all of them, in time. She had simply been the last, for many reasons. "Are you really surprised to see me, Queen Deidre? You are a smarter woman than that."

She shook her head again, more forcefully this time, her expression not giving away whatever emotions she hid behind her shuttered blue gaze. "No, I suppose I am not surprised. I can't imagine you are here to speak of peace and break bread, though, so you must be here for my kingdom. If you are going to make demands of me, will you at least do me the respect of allowing me to look upon your face while you do so?"

The Queen glanced at the tent as she spoke, her eyes sweeping across the war table and the figurines that had been placed atop. She was keen, this Queen, and he knew that she was fully aware that a war table was named such for a reason.

"You mistake me, my Queen," he said, though, disagreeing with her first statement. He moved to stand beside her, a casual move, and said, "I do come to your gates in peace, despite what you might think. If I did not, then we would not be meeting here today, speaking to come to terms rather than simply fighting for dominance. I do not wish to war with you, or Abarra for that matter." He turned to the war table, looking it over with casual indifference. Once upon a time, it had been one single figure there with the black dragon flying, now there were tens of them.

Soon the entire map would be covered with his crest, and he would be ready to start the true preparations. But for now, he had to handle this last obstacle.

"And the mask?" She didn't look as if she fully bought his argument, but she was willing to move on.

His hand reached up to his mask, a wry smile twisting underneath. Did he dare tip his hand so soon, before he had made his plea? Better not. "It is perhaps best if not, not yet," he said, wondering if she could see the golden glow of his eyes that never quite dimmed, no matter how hard he tried. "I frighten some with my appearance," was all he offered as an explanation. Once the terms were reached, then perhaps she could learn the truth behind his nature.

She accepted his decision, but she did not look thrilled as he did so. Her pale blue eyes watched him with outright suspicion now, and he knew that he was quickly losing any goodwill he might have had. "Go on," was all she said, but the words were said tightly, forced through gritted teeth.

"I am not here to fight with you, Queen Deidre. War with Abarra is not ideal, as I'm sure you're aware," he said, gesturing towards the mountains that had been penned onto the map in intricate detail. Even in ink, they were jagged and tall, impossible to navigate without serious risk. "I have part of my army here at your gates, but this is only a small fraction, and not nearly enough to take the city's walls, as I'm sure your advisors have already told you. I can siege your walls, but," he gestured to the water, "you will only find food in your oceans."

She nodded her head, following, but she had used her supply of goodwill. Her eyes glittered as she listened to his words, not speaking.

He looked at her through the hooded veil of his cloak, and then sighed, his voice almost regretful as he said, "The truth is, I do not wish to throw so many lives away for what we both know will be an eventuality, Queen Deidre." He wondered if she could see the glow of his gaze, even through the mesh mask that was supposed to hide his abnormalities from those who were unused to them.

When he spoke, his voice was somber, but firm, "Whether it is now or many months from now, or even years, Abarra will be mine. We both know this to be true, in our heart of hearts. Either we can come to terms now, and Abarra will join the Draakan Empire without bloodshed, and you might even be able to remain in some form of power. Or, we will tear the city apart brick by brick and make an example of her when she finally falls."