Part 6: A Dragon, a Kiss and a Second Chance
Freya woke to the sensation of something licking her face.
This was disappointing.
She had expected death to involve either a tunnel of light or, given her recent behaviour, a lengthy conversation with an irritated deity.
Instead, something enormous and warm was breathing into her ear.
She opened one eye.
A small black dragon sat on her chest.
It was approximately the size of a large cat.
Its wings were folded neatly against its back.
Two tiny horns curved above its golden eyes.
Freya stared.
The dragon stared back.
Then it sneezed.
A puff of smoke drifted across her face.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.”
The creature chirped.
Freya slowly sat up.
The chamber was ruined.
Broken stone covered the floor. The glass spheres were gone. Golden light flickered along the walls.
And beside her lay Tairn.
Motionless.
“Tairn?”
She scrambled towards him.
His skin was cold.
His eyes closed.
There was no fire beneath his skin.
No shimmering heat.
No golden light.
Just a man.
A terribly still man.
“No.”
She touched his face.
“Tairn, wake up.”
Nothing.
Her throat tightened.
“No, no, no. You do not get to do this.”
She shook him.
“Do you hear me? You don’t get to kiss me once and then die. That’s appalling manners.”
The little dragon hopped onto his chest.
Freya barely noticed.
“Tairn!”
A tear splashed against his cheek.
Then another.
She pressed her forehead to his.
“I was just beginning to like you, you arrogant, impossible…”
A faint voice interrupted.
“Beginning?”
Freya froze.
Tairn opened one eye.
“That’s rather disappointing.”
For a moment, she couldn’t move.
Then she hit him.
Hard.
On the shoulder.
“Ow!”
“You absolute bastard!”
He blinked.
“Freya…”
“You were dead!”
“Apparently not.”
“I thought I’d lost you!”
His expression softened.
“Come here.”
She threw herself against him.
He caught her.
And laughed.
Not a cruel laugh.
Not the cold amusement of a king.
A genuine, helpless laugh.
Freya pulled back.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why are you laughing?”
“Because you just called the Dragon King a bastard.”
“Well, you are.”
He smiled.
“Yes. I suppose I am.”
She kissed him.
This time there was no explosion.
No shattered stone.
No ancient magic threatening to destroy the kingdom.
Just warmth.
And a rather enthusiastic little dragon attempting to climb between them.
Freya broke away.
“What is that?”
Tairn looked down.
The creature chirped.
His expression changed.
“Oh.”
“Oh, what?”
“That’s my dragon.”
Freya stared.
“Your dragon?”
“Apparently.”
She looked at the tiny creature.
Then back at Tairn.
“That?”
“Yes.”
“The terrifying beast that supposedly destroyed seven armies?”
Tairn sighed.
“Yes.”
The little dragon sneezed again.
Freya began to laugh.
She laughed until her ribs hurt.
Until tears streamed down her face.
Until Tairn finally joined her.
And for the first time in two centuries, the Dragon King laughed without fear of burning the world.
