Treasure Ch. 11

The dragon's nostrils flared. "You've lost whatever sanity you had left."

"He was a tyrant in the making. He would have led you all to your demise."

"So you'd take his place?" a female voice said accusingly.

Kai regarded that part of the crowd with magnificent disdain. "This land is evil. It has taken much from me. I won't be lingering here."

"Kai," Adeon said, and she regarded him calmly from the corner of her eye. His hands were trembling. He was putting two and two together, and he didn't much like the answer. "Is she alright?"

For several seconds, Kai didn't speak. "She's inside. Go to her," she finally said. And then, after a moment's hesitation, "And be kind." When Adeon dropped his gaze and stared wildly down at the ground, she offered him a little smile. "Your anger is wasted on him, friend. You can't kill him again," she called as he slunk back through the throng of dragons, which had increased drastically in size since his arrival. A few of them glared at him as he passed, but most of them were just staring up at Kai with a mixture of disbelief and awe.

"Catherine," he called into the cavern, dwindling back down and sheathing his scales. A faint noise---something between a sniffle and a moan---echoed back to him, and he gritted his teeth and clutched his shoulder before limping forward through the tunnel. After a few steps forward, he saw a tiny lump huddled in a corner. "Catherine," he groaned in relief. Although she was sitting facing the wall---balled-up with her knees hugged against her chest, a perfect portrait of a terrified girl hiding from monsters---she looked conscious enough and didn't seem to be missing any limbs.

"I was looking for you," she said in a quivering voice. She didn't look at him as he approached her. Another sniffle split the silence, and he watched helplessly as she rubbed at her nose. "You didn't get hurt?"

He glanced at his shoulder and winced. "Nothing that won't mend," he said, crouching down at her side. When his fingers grazed her shoulder, she flinched. He quickly withdrew his hand.

"Please don't," she said.

"Won't you look at me?" he implored, and her shoulders went rigid.

"I just don't think..." She swallowed and glanced at him from over her shoulder, but immediately after catching sight of him, her eyes welled up with tears and she turned back to the wall. "...I don't think I can be around you right now."

Adeon's heart splintered like glass. "No, no, no," he chanted, falling onto his knees and pulling her up against his chest. She yielded to his touch like a ragdoll. "Catherine, I was so stupid," he said into her hair. "It's my fault---I shouldn't have let you out of my sight. I told you I wouldn't let him near you and I wasn't there..."

"Adeon," Catherine said, but he only clung tighter.

"But I won't let anything hurt you again," he continued, smoothing her hair in long strokes. He didn't know who he was trying to convince. He pulled away and turned her shoulders slowly towards him, so he had a view of the curve of her cheek peeking out from under all that dark hair. Her face was half-hidden from him, but he could still see the swollen blotches of pink that marred her eyelids and the stream of tears dripping from the tip of her nose. "Can you forgive me?"

Wordlessly, Catherine unfolded her arms and revealed the object she had been clutching to her chest. It was a silver plate, gilded with intricate swirls of gold. In the middle, they converged to form an abstract sort of bird. Adeon puzzled it for a long time.

"I don't...understand," he finally said. To his astonishment, her lips curved into a bleary smile.

"I thought dragons had a knack for remembering treasure."

"I can recall even the most insignificant pieces of my collection. But this isn't part of it. I've never seen it before."

"You've seen it." Her lips quivered. "You've seen it because it was Richard's." He drew away, and she leaned her forehead against her folded arms. Her shoulders jerked with muted sobs.

For the first time in several decades, Adeon found himself at a loss for words.

He finally coaxed himself to speak after a long and terrible silence, if only to end it. "He may yet be well..."

"None of those men are well, Finvarra saw to that..."

"He was a clever man. If there were survivors, he'd be among them."

Catherine cast the plate loudly to the ground and rose to her feet as abruptly as she could manage. Adeon grimaced when he saw her left ankle wobble beneath her weight. "And who else do you think would be among them? All of the knights from my city who were ever kind to me---perhaps each of them made it back down the mountain as well? And...and my father---" She broke off with a sob and looked at him---really looked at him. Immediately, her face went slack with horror. "Your shoulder---" she began again in a wail, but then she stopped short, squinted her eyes shut, and hugged her arms against her chest. Adeon watched her wordlessly as she wilted back down to her knees. "Fuck," she choked out, right before dissolving again into a shuddering mess of tears.

"It will mend," he repeated quietly.

Catherine, who was knelt on the stone floor with her face hidden in her hands, didn't seem to have heard him. "I didn't want this," she said.

He brushed the tips of his fingers against a few inches of thigh that were peeking out from her tattered skirt and tried hard not to think of how her dress had come to be shredded into ribbons. "Nobody wanted this." She surfaced from her hands to gave him a forlorn look, and after a few moments, she let out a mirthless laugh.

"I thought I did, didn't I?" she said, turning away and rubbing at her eyes. "I chose you."

Adeon furrowed his brow. "Catherine..."

"And I...I didn't think...my father leaving, the men coming for the mountains, all in the same matter of days---"

"You couldn't have known---"

"Does that really make it better?" Her breathing was heavy and shallow in between words. "That I only killed those men because I didn't think I knew them?"

She lifted her arms to rub her eyes again, but Adeon captured her wrists in his hands and brought his face close to hers; close enough that he could finally look her right in her blurry, bloodshot eyes. "You didn't kill them," he said slowly. "And they came for us. We had no choice."

"But I did," she breathed. "I-I came with you to warn the other dragons, I convinced Finvarra, I made Jiro---"

"What should you have done, then?" Adeon snapped. She jerked back, looking betrayed, but he only tightened his grip on her arms and kept going. "What should you have chosen, seeing as---"

"I didn't want to choose at all!" she cried hoarsely. "Was that so much to ask for?!" He stopped, and she wrenched her wrists out from his hands. The two of them sat in silence for a long time. Catherine stared down at the rock floor, and Adeon just stared at Catherine.

"I'm sorry," she finally said. Her voice was tiny in the vastness of the cavern. "That wasn't fair."

Adeon gave her a grim look. "Nothing seems fair anymore, does it?"

"No. It doesn't."

He reached out to embrace her, and, to his relief, she let him pull her in. Her body still twitched now and again from a few remaining sobs, but she buried herself deep into his arms and knit her fingers into his hair. "Are you alright?" he sighed.

"I'm fine." He felt her head turn towards his wounded shoulder. "You---"

"It's nothing. I promise. But Grindel..." He hesitated. For a moment, he didn't know if he wanted to hear the answer. "...Did he hurt you?"

Catherine tensed against him. "Not as much as he wanted to." Adeon's breath hitched in his chest.

"I never should have brought you here," he said, but Catherine felt around for one of his hands and gave it a firm squeeze.

"I don't want to talk about him anymore," she said. "I don't think I ever want to talk about him again." Adeon bowed his head.

"Then we won't." She made a soft noise against his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Catherine," he said. "For your friends. Your father."

To his horror, he felt her shoulders begin to jerk again. "I'm sorry, too," she said. Her voice cracked at the end. "I-I don't think I'll ever stop being sorry..."

Adeon grimaced and ran his fingers through his hair. "But you mustn't feel responsible," he finally bit out, and she seemed to flinch at his words. "If we're assigning blame---"

Catherine choked out another sob. "We aren't---"

"But I can't help but wonder," he continued hastily, "what might have happened if I hadn't ever---"

"No. It won't do any good to wonder now. It won't fix anything at all." Adeon set his jaw reluctantly, but fell silent. She pulled away a bit---just enough to look up at him. "But Adeon," she continued softly, "you can't ever think that I haven't given up everything for you, too." She sounded empty when she spoke, like those words were the only things she had left. She looked exhausted.

He pulled her back in and tucked her head under his chin. "I know."

---

Hours and hours later, Catherine found herself perched on a ledge with Adeon. The clouds had turned slightly pink, as if all of the carnage behind them was reflecting into the sky. Her legs swung idly in the empty space beneath them, ruffling the skirt of her new, unscathed dress.

Her eyes were sore from crying. She didn't know it was possible to cry so much in one day. She had run out of tears a long time ago, but that hadn't seemed to stop her from sobbing and sobbing into Adeon's shoulder until the two of them fell into a brief, fitful slumber against that cavern wall. It wasn't an easy sort of sleep---it was simply necessary, like her body had just given up for a couple of hours. But she hadn't awoken refreshed at all. The trek to their end of the caverns and the process of gathering her things had passed in a sluggish blur, and now that they were back outside, she was content to sit in silence and think about things that she was probably better off not thinking about at all. The silence felt good.

"It always bothered me to see you so quiet," Adeon said. She tilted her head to give him a sideways glance. His shoulder looked much better now that it had been bound in strips of her ruined dress. She had abandoned the rest of it, but that hadn't felt like enough. Part of her wanted Adeon to set it ablaze, so she could watch the tattered fabric and everything it meant burn down to nothing. "It used to, anyway. I'd see you so lost in your mind and wonder who could have your thoughts, if not me."

She offered him a weary smile. "It shouldn't bother you. You certainly have them often enough."

"I suppose I could allow you the occasional transgression." Catherine looked down at the ground. "I'd ask to learn what might be troubling you, but I'm certain I already know the answer," he said quietly.

Catherine paused, then wriggled around in place so she was facing him and looked up at him with wide, bright eyes. "I've been thinking about my father, yes," she admitted, "but it isn't like that. It's just..." She stopped short, and Adeon waited in silence, looking faintly worried. "...I don't think he was here," she finally said. He lifted his eyebrows.

"You don't."

"Yes. I think I would have known if he was, and...and I'm not sure." She hesitated. "And he said he would return in four days. He wouldn't say it if he didn't mean it. He just wouldn't."

Adeon's violently green eyes stayed fixed on her face. "Alright." Catherine turned away and stared out at the horizon. She let herself believe that she could see the looming spires of Blackwall castle in the distance. "We could return," he said suddenly, and she looked back at him in surprise. His expression was unfathomable. "I would gladly take you to him, if it would put your mind at ease."

Her eyes went wide. For several seconds, she found herself completely incapable of speech. "...You would do that?" she finally managed to say, and he knelt forward to press his forehead against hers. His eyelids slid shut.

"Yes."

Catherine cupped his face in her hands, stroked the edges of his jaw with her thumbs. "Thank you," she said softly. He let out a long, steady sigh, and she closed her eyes. "I wish we could. But I can't go back there after what I've done."

"He couldn't possibly know."

"There's a chance. But Eugene's probably told him everything by now. I told him about you before I left."

When she opened her eyes again, Adeon's were open, too. "Did you really?" She let out a nervous titter of a laugh.

"I did. I told him I had fallen in love with a big, scary dragon, and then I ran off to find you," she cackled, and right below his nose, she saw his lips crack into a grin. "I didn't tell anyone else, either. Not Leda or Richard---not anyone at all. Of all the people in that bloody city, I don't know why it had to be him." Once her hysterical fit of giggles had subsided, she shook her head. "But even if my father didn't know, I would. I couldn't face him like that. I just...have to believe that he's alright."

Adeon touched her cheek. "The two of you will meet again someday. I'm sure of it."

"I don't think so, actually," Catherine murmured. "I don't think I'll ever see him again." Adeon inclined his head. That long silence returned and persisted.

After several minutes, he took her hands in his and drew both of them to their feet. Catherine wobbled on her ruined ankle. "Are we leaving?"

"It's nearing sundown. The others have already departed---most of them, anyway." He sounded so tired, but there was a little glimmer in his eyes. Relief, maybe. Whatever it was, it seemed to be invigorating him. "Besides, I've grown quite weary of these mountains. I'll be glad to see them shrinking in the distance."

Catherine glanced down at the vast expanse of land beneath them, spreading out impossibly far in each direction. It all suddenly seemed very, very big. "Where will we go?"

"This land isn't safe anymore. We'll go somewhere concealed. Somewhere secluded." To her surprise, he smiled and touched the base of her chin with a single finger, tilting her face up towards his. "Where nary a soul can come to your rescue," he finished softly.

Catherine twisted her lips to hide her amusement. "So you're going to lock me away forever after all," she said, and he knelt a little closer to kiss her.

"Forever," he agreed, his words a low buzz against her mouth. She let her mouth split into a weary grin.

"I think I'd like that."

Scales feathered over Adeon's face, and his fingers lengthened into claws. She looked past him as he changed and let herself think about happier things. The worst of it was over. It had to be. Things were going to change now. They had set something into motion, for better or for worse, and now it felt like their part in it was over. At least, she very much hoped it was. Now came the long trek to find some semblance of normalcy.

She pressed a hand against her belly. Maybe normalcy was a little too optimistic. Adeon turned to her, and something flickered behind his eyes when he saw her touch her stomach. He let out a low rumble and lowered his head so she could embrace his scaly nose.

Somehow, it was all going to be alright.

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Deep in the Black Forest, a fat, red raspberry dangled from the tippy-top branch of a bush.

Somehow the songbirds had missed it, and now it lay in wait like a juicy ruby nestled in the leaves. A squirrel studied it from its high perch in an elm, listening and pondering the various sounds of the woods, but just as it was about to take the plunge, a twig snapped from in between two bushy scrub oak. It darted back into the treetops, and a short, cloaked figure emerged from the brambles and shuffled towards the raspberry bush, wielding a wicker basket.

A tiny hand stretched up and gripped that raspberry in a fist. It pulled, and red juice came gushing out from in between every plump little finger.

The little girl with the basket let out a wordless noise of discontent and wrenched her hand back to suck on her fingers, eyeing the dangling red mess above her with reproach. Once each digit was licked clean, she began to rummage through the rest of the bush, scavenging for replacements. A greenish-white berry came next, plucked cleanly from the branch and crammed into an eager mouth. Her lips twisted as the berry burst sour in between her teeth, and she quickly spat out the soggy remnants onto the forest floor. Finding that particular bush to be wholly unsatisfying, the little girl turned clumsily on her heel and tottered away in a huff.

"Kat," a woman's voice called from far, far away. She stopped. "Where have you gone? You mustn't wander so far, it'll be dark soon!" The little girl thought about that, then wrinkled her nose and fell back into step. Several yards away, there was a gooseberry bush dripping with treasure in the middle of a clearing, and she marched towards it with a tight, greedy grip on her basket.

She didn't notice the yellow eyes following her from the trees.

A branch rustled to her right, and she paused to watch it steady itself before continuing her march. The lowering sun cast an orange beam of orange light into the clearing, turning each berry into a globe of the most intense purple, and she imagined them tumbling into her basket and filling it to the brim. She had eaten almost every single one of the berries in her basket---all save for a lone raspberry, which, upon discovering, she snatched up and popped into her mouth.

"Kat!" that voice shouted again. She ignored it and stumbled through a tangle of ivy and into the clearing. "Kat, where are you?" She was so close. Only a few more steps.

Leaves crackled behind her. A branch snapped. A flock of birds took to the air in fright. An impossibly long shadow rose out from the trees and fell over her, and the little girl paused with her hand outstretched to look over her shoulder.

The dragon loomed high above her, easily dozens of times her size and covered in sheets of crimson scales. It brought its head down close to study her with wide yellow eyes. The little girl's brows knit together in worry as its mouth opened to display two rows of teeth, each of them easily the length of one of her legs. It exhaled in a huff of air, sending the hood of her cloak flopping back down to her shoulders and revealing a head of curly black hair that had been tamed into a short braid. The girl's lower lip wobbled as it reached for her with a set of wickedly-sharp talons. When it caught sight of her face, the creature's lips split into a wild grin.

"Your mother's looking for you," it said.

"Nooooo!" the little girl wailed, reaching out for a handful of berries before she was hoisted up into the dragon's claws. Her fingers closed over air, and she beat her fists furiously on the dragon's thumb and screeched blue murder to the treetops. Unruly tendrils of hair escaped from her braid as she thrashed from side to side. "No, no, no, no, no!"

"I'm terribly sorry," said the dragon as he marched the two of them back to the edge of the wood. "I really am, but she seemed quite worried---"

The little girl waved her arms towards the gooseberry bush. "Yummy!" she protested.

The dragon made a face. "Are they? I've never much cared for them, honestly."

Catherine watched in amusement as Roane carried the shrieking girl through the treeline, but composed her face into an expression of righteous disapproval when he dropped her at her feet. The little girl jerked her black hood over her head and crossed her arms as Catherine knelt to speak.