His nostrils flared, watching the movements in the main village of Larkinshire, his brute mass hidden away in the Forest of Ne'er Returns, where no villagers dared to go. It could hardly be called a village, at that; it was the capital city of the entire country, and a place he did not frequent often. The King and his beloved Queen lived here, along with their only daughter, much to the king's distress.
Although dragons were typically not drawn to humans except to devour them if prey was scarce, he found that he delighted in watching the girl every day as she wondered about the kingdom, often riding a pure white stallion which he fancied would make an excellent dessert. Her hair was golden, pure gold as the treasures he hoarded, and her eyes were the deepest lightest blue he'd ever witnessed. His exceptional sight told him all this, his senses relaying the daily report of what all she had done while he was away hunting. She often ventured too close to the forest, staring into its darkness, and he could see a stubborn, obstinate streak in her eyes.
She is fighting a battle of wills, she longs to enter the forbidden...
he thought to himself, still as a cat prepared to pounce on its delicious treat. They sat that way for long moments, the princess unaware of his existence, the dragon stealthy and patiently waiting. Finally, she turned and continued on her ride across the meadow that bordered the forbidden land, and he let out a snort that disintegrated the tree he sat facing. With a long cat-like stretch, he spread his ebony wings and lifted himself into the sky, blocking out the sun's light for a moment with the mass of his great form, and began a slow, patient purveyance for that day's lunch.
*****
Layra bathed in the cool lake, swimming about in the water in naught but her skin. The horse she often chose was grazing off to the side, as was his routine every day. She loved the warm summer air that permitted her to take advantage of the kingdom's hidden springs, and she doubted she'd be found by anyone, all of the villagers were busy working, toiling away at their chores. She had no idea what that was like, she didn't even dress herself in the morning. She'd heard stories lately, about a dark, evil magic in the Forest of Ne'er Returns that bordered her father's kingdom, and she was particularly anxious to find out just what that might be. Foolhardy and conceited, if she had truly known what was best for herself, she would've stayed away, but as it was, she was just an exceptionally spoiled princess who was used to getting her own way and never being in danger.
She swam idly, thinking over what her father had most recently said to her. She was about to come of age, of marrying age, and her body was already on its way to full development. Suitors would begin to call, princes and lords wanting the kingdom that was to be hers, and she would have to choose one of them. She snorted, startling the horse, and closed her eyes. All the men she'd ever met at court had been pompous and, to put it plainly, big balding babies. Not one of them could ever really face a man in battle. Though she was pampered, she longed for a knight courageous, tough, and rugged, whose ferocity in battle was matched only by his ferocity in bed. She giggled to herself at the thought and began to swim over to the bank, opening her eyes. She gasped and backpedaled quickly at what she saw. A man was standing on the bank, staring at her, his eyebrows raised quizzically. She looked around for her horse- it was gone. She drew her courage up, though kept her body underwater, and tried to retain her most royally imposing demeanor.
"Sir, don't you know who I am?" she asked, feigning power.
He laughed, and she could feel the power of such a laugh shaking the water she swam in, it seemed to make the whole world shudder for a moment. She stared at him, her eyes wide, wondering who this man was. He was tall, taller than any man she'd ever seen, and lean, like a wildcat that was in perfect condition. His hair was jet black and hung long down his back, though braided to keep it out of the way, and his eyes were an unsettling gold. Not yellow or orange, but gold as golden as her hair. He moved almost snake-like, graceful and coiled, and crouched at the edge of the lake, looking as an animal ready to spring on its prey. She found herself suddenly very afraid, but incredibly aroused, by this dark man. When he spoke, his voice was deep and it reverberated the entire clearing, but she thought maybe she was imagining that vibration.
"To me, you look like a young, helpless woman in a clearing whose screams wouldn't be heard by a single person," he spoke very clearly, as if he was foreign and had been trained in English too skillfully. It is a generalized fact that foreigners speak another's language much more clearly than the natives. She shook at his words, feeling suddenly very cold, and very alone, but was too foolhardy to realize what danger she was in.
"Sir, I am the Princess of this entire wood, my father is the King. If you leave this glade at once, I will not demand your beheading when I return home," she sniffed at him. His golden eyes swirled darker and darker, and she found herself staring into the depths.
"Who says you are returning home, Princess?" He smiled wickedly as he saw his words register on her face. "A princess is extremely valuable...and from what I understand, extremely...delicious." His eyes turned to her, a feral grin on his face, as she choked on the air she had sucked in so quickly.
"You're going...you want....you want to eat me?!" she cried, her terror escalating. All pretenses of power were now gone, as the thought of her impending death settled more clearly in her mind.
"I'm sure you're nice and soft, you've probably never worked a day of your life. I can just imagine how tender you are," he grinned, now leaning back on the bank, idly stretching.
"How dare you!! How dare you say such things to me, you loathsome pig!! I WILL have your head for your insolence!" Layra spat, rage filling her.
The man sat up swiftly, and suddenly, she realized she was right against the bank, not a foot from where he was. She didn't remember drifting so close. The next moment, she was on the bank, her naked form pressed against the long wispy grass, her captor holding both of her wrists easily in one hand while he ran a hand along her belly with the other. How he had hauled her out of the water so quickly was something she couldn't explain, but she was furious and humiliated to be naked before this stranger, and to have his hands running over her body as if she was a possession. She writhed and went to scream, but suddenly, she couldn't find the air to do so, it was like it had evaporated. She looked up at the man's eyes, that were dangerously cold, and she froze when she saw the pupils were in cat-like slits, not the normal round shape of a human. He growled and she saw his nostrils flare with some kind of light, scaring her further into holding still, lest he kill her right there.
"You insolent little girl! You will not speak to me that way! If you ever speak to me that way again, I shall cut out your tongue!" His voice was deeper, throatier, and Layra got the sense that his temper was hardly restrained. His grip did not soften, but his eyes slowly swirled less and less, until the colors were back to a normal gold. She realized he was still holding her down, and his hands were still roaming over her. She went to twist, but the memory of his lit nostrils made her think twice. If she could just hold still, maybe he would change his mind and let her go. That did not seem to be what he had in mind, for he stopped suddenly, and looked down at her.
"Still a virgin, are we?" Her eyes widened, and in shock she nodded docilely. How could he have known that, just from touching her stomach?
He moved his hands down between her thighs, and gently-she almost thought tenderly, if she had known what that felt like-felt her innermost secrets against his hand. He stopped for a moment, and pulled his hand back to his face, staring at the glistening she had left on his fingers. He showed her also, and she turned her head away in shame, humiliated that she was getting turned on by such brutal handling. He laughed softly and put his fingers to his lips, and to her shock and horror, sucked each of his fingers dry. Still crouching over her, he pulled her wrists so that she was half-sitting.
