Treasure Ch 05

Catherine groaned and writhed in Adeon's arms, awakened by the chatter of birds and a soft stream of air that was flitting over her exposed ankles. With a tired shudder, she opened her eyes, blinking against the searing, blinding sunlight that was streaming into the entrance of the cave. She rose into a sitting position and raised her arms heavenwards in a long stretch, then ran her fingers through her hair, which had come partially undone from its braid and cascaded over her eyes in a wave of ringlets. She glanced over her shoulder at Adeon, who was still sleeping soundly behind her, his shoulders propped up against the wall. With a smile, she slipped out of his arms and watched in amusement as one of his hands felt around in the air for her before falling back into his lap. A little snore escaped his lips. The sunlight that bathed the cavern held the grey aura of an oncoming storm, and when she peered outside, she saw that the sky was swirling with dark clouds.

She toed on her slippers and crept outside, still relishing the heat from Adeon's body that was gradually fading from her skin. The wind whipped her dress against her body as she exited the cave, and she hugged her arms tightly against her chest for warmth as its whistling chill bit through to her bones. The golden glow the lands had held yesterday had almost completely vanished, and she could feel the sting of winter in the air. Absentmindedly, she wondered what it would be like spending winter in a stone cavern. A small ache blossomed in her chest as she recalled basking in the warmth of her lit hearth at home, and the smells of cinnamon and cloves and mead that would waft from the kitchen.

A rattling noise sounded from several feet below her, and she watched in shock as a small rock dislodged itself and went tumbling down the side of the mountain. Frowning, she took a few tentative steps forward, and her stomach did a complicated somersault as she caught a glimpse of a red, scaly tail slipping behind a rock.

"Hello?" she called softly. There was only silence, and she skipped down a couple more feet and peeked slowly behind the large boulder to her left. Nestled in the shadows was an enormous mass of red scales, and a pair of large, doleful yellow eyes peered out at her. "Roane?" she said, swallowing the tremor that threatened to creep into her voice. Adeon was still fast asleep in the cave, and she found herself hoping that Roane didn't still find her appetizing. She thought about running, but after realizing the futility of fleeing from a carnivorous creature with wings and the ability to spew fire, she decided against it. "What are you doing here?"

"Is it too early?" he asked timidly, his gaze darting down towards the ground. She gave him a puzzled look and he seemed to swallow nervously, a gesture that was greatly exaggerated by the impressive length of his neck. "I wanted to drop by," he continued.

"It is a bit early," Catherine admitted, and after a moment of hesitation, she folded her legs into a sitting position near his front claws. "Is something wrong?" His features seemed to droop sadly as she spoke, and he fixed her with a very worried look.

"They took everything," he said sadly. "They came while I was sleeping. Swarms of them."

"Swarms of what?"

"Humans. Humans with swords and axes and a myriad of other sharp objects." He lowered his head to rest it on the ground in between his claws, and Catherine stared down at him in horror.

"That's awful," she whispered, and he gave her a sad little nod.

"It is, isn't it? I have to find a new place to live now, and that could take ages. Ages. Took me nearly a century to find the right place, and now it's just...gone," he finished bitterly. "They almost got another one of my claws, too, and who ever heard of a dragon with eight fingers?"

"It sounds like something from a song, actually," Catherine offered brightly.

"Does it? I don't know if I'd want to be remembered as the dragon with eight fingers. It sounds silly." He watched her sadly, but then seemed to suddenly remember something. "Oh, right. I wanted to warn you: there were a few knights creeping around the mountainside, trying to be sneaky. I ate one of them, but the others got away." Catherine's face paled, and she swallowed uncertainly.

"The one you ate...he didn't have silver hair, did he?" she asked carefully. He pondered that for a moment, then shook his head.

"He was rather young, I think." A wave of relief surged through Catherine's chest.

"I don't suppose he was fair of hair and ruddy-faced?" she continued hopefully, conjuring up a mental image of Sir Henry. "Or tasted like lots of ale?"

"No, no. His hair was dark and he was a bit bony." She gave him a worried little nod, and he raised his scaly eyebrows. "You seem disappointed."

"Maybe a little," she mused, gazing down at the kingdom below them. The siege of Roane's nest and the scouts sent up the mountain on the same day couldn't be a coincidence, she thought darkly, and she sincerely hoped that her sacrifice hadn't been the catalyst that caused the kingdoms to unify against the dragons.

Wars upon wars. But the end is inescapable.

"Did you want them to rescue you?" Roane asked suddenly, a note of curiosity in his voice, and she jerked her head back up to stare at him in disbelief.

"Goodness, no! They'd surely do something terrible to Adeon," she insisted as horrible visions of dragon-Adeon being run through with swords and spears flitted through her brain. "Or maybe he'd do something terrible to them," she added grimly. "I'd like to avoid both, I suppose. Besides, I'm hardly in need of rescuing."

"You don't seem very distressed," Roane agreed. "...Are...are you Adeon's mate?" She frowned.

"His...'mate'?" she repeated.

"Yes, yes. I thought you seemed fond of him."

"I don't know about his 'mate'," she said slowly, testing the word in her mouth. "What a strange thing to say. It sounds as if we're horses. Or ducks."

"Oh, dear. I didn't mean to call you a horse," Roane apologized hastily. "Or a duck."

"No, not like that..." She leaned her elbows on her knees and rested her chin in her palms, looking down at the ground in thought. "It's just not what people call each other where I'm from."

"...Ducks...?"

"Mates,"

Catherine groaned, fighting back a smile. "We use other words."

"Like what?" Roane insisted, watching her with wide, yellow eyes.

"I don't know." She felt her cheeks grow a little hotter despite herself. "...Lovers?"

Roane seemed to ponder this for a moment, but then he shrugged a little. "That's a nice word, I suppose."

Suddenly, out from the mouth of the cavern came one of the loudest, most horrifying noises Catherine had ever heard. It echoed off the hard rock walls of the mountain, and she could have sworn she felt it rattling in the ground. Roane's head rose quickly to regard the entrance of the cave with panic, and he quickly scrambled to his feet. The horrible noise sounded again, and Catherine gaped at the cave in terror. This time, she new what it was: a roar.

"I should be going," Roane said quickly, backing timidly away from her and extending his wings. "That can't be good, oh, no, it certainly can't. Lovely seeing you." And with a couple beats of his wings that sent a cloud of dust whirling around Catherine's body, he ascended into the sky and glided hastily down the mountain. She leapt to her feet as well and sprinted clumsily towards the cavern, praying that a knight hadn't slipped past Roane and invaded Adeon's cave. The noises grew deafeningly louder as she reached the entrance, and she pressed her hands to her ears as she scurried through the main cavern.

"Adeon!" she shouted, emerging cautiously into the treasure room. "Adeon, are you--" Her jaw dropped as she observed the scene in front of her, and she sank to the floor as her knees buckled beneath her in terror, clutching a suit of armor to steady herself.

Adeon had transformed into some half-man, half-dragon

thing

and was pacing frantically around the room with his hair clutched tightly in his hands. Scales rippled across his jawline and over his arms, (one of which had turned into a wicked-looking talon), and enormous wings had erupted from his back, twitching angrily. His strange, slitted eyes were wide with madness, and his teeth were bared and much too sharp. He stopped suddenly, making a strangled keening noise, and turned to a golden statue to his left. As Catherine watched in horror, he opened his mouth and let out a piercing sound between a roar and a scream, and a thick stream of fire erupted from his mouth and melted the statue into a puddle of shimmering goo at his feet. He buried his face in his hands, his body as tense as a wire, his hands twitching in anger. Catherine pulled herself up to her feet, swallowing hard.

"Adeon," she called again softly, her voice shaking. He whipped around to stare at her, a sudden movement that made her jump. His gaze was wild and terrifyingly, blindly angry. He took in a deep, shuddering breath, never blinking as he watched her in shock.

"Where were you?" he whispered, and although a bit of the anger faded from his features, his eyes were still wide with a sort of ancient rage that could only be described as mythological in its intensity. She watched in horror as he began to stalk slowly towards her, and his arms reached out to tightly grip her shoulders. She winced as the talons of his left hand, which was still an enormous dragon's claw, bit into the fabric of her dress and raked against her skin. He knelt down so his face was level with hers, and she paled as she saw the way his features were twitching with sheer insanity. She was suddenly very still, and found herself utterly unable to speak. "Where?" he repeated softly, giving her shoulders a little jerk.

Snap out of it,

Catherine thought desperately as she struggled to find a response, swallowing the heavy lump in her throat and trying to ignore the sting of his sharp claws on her shoulder.

"I-I w-was outside," she said shakily, feeling tears sting at her eyes. "R-Roane was there, and..." A flicker of movement crossed her peripheral vision, and when she turned to look, she saw the pair of them reflected in the massive mirror. She was a tiny, pale being in his grasp, and Adeon loomed over her like something from a nightmare, all jagged angles and raw fury. When she looked back at him, he hadn't taken his eyes from her. His gaze was as even and still as a cobra watching a mouse.

"I didn't see you," he said, a frantic tremor in his voice. As he spoke, however, a few of the scales began to retreat into his skin, and his teeth became smaller and less pointed. "I didn't see you anywhere."

"Adeon," she whispered, looking up at him pleadingly, "you're hurting me." At her words, his eyes widened like an enchanted man awakening from a trance and he drew his hands back from her shoulders as quickly as if she had suddenly sprouted poisonous spikes.

She backed away from him and slowly lowered herself onto the floor, bringing her knees to her chest and hugging them against her. Despite her efforts to contain it, a little whimper escaped her lips, and she promptly buried her face in her arms, her shoulders heaving with suppressed sobs. A soft noise came from directly in front of her, and she looked up to see Adeon stooped down on his knees, watching her hopelessly. He was back to his normal self, but the shirt he was wearing was shredded in several places where his transformation had taken its toll.

"Catherine," he said softly, reaching out for her and recoiling quickly as she flinched away from him. "Catherine, no," he begged, raw pain tainting his features. "I would never...I thought..." He swallowed hard. "I thought you had gone..."

"Why would I do that to you?" she asked hoarsely, hot tears streaming down her cheeks.

"You wouldn't," he admitted, looking down at the floor. "I was just scared."

"You

were scared," Catherine repeated incredulously, her lips quivering as she spoke, and before she could react, he had pulled her into his arms. She tensed initially at his touch, but then he let out a long, heavy sigh and she felt herself go limp. "You said you trusted me," she said quietly, and she could hear the betrayal in her own voice.

"I do."

"Then why--" she began, but he pulled away slightly, his hands gingerly cradling the shoulder that he had ravaged with his claws so he could examine it. A low, devastated noise sounded in his throat as he surveyed the angry red marks peeking out from the torn fabric of her sleeve. Suddenly, he rose to his feet, pacing frantically for a moment before looking down at her with big, horrified green eyes.

"I...I'll be right back," he stammered, and he crossed the length of the room quickly in a few long strides, disappearing through the entryway. Catherine watched him in puzzlement, then closed her eyes tightly and took in a long, shaky breath, trying her hardest to calm down. Adrenaline was still surging through her body like liquid ice, and each of her muscles was tensed and ready to spring for the door at a moment's notice. But worst of all were the conflicted feelings stirring inside of her, and she tugged her knees back against her chest, her gaze fixed on the floor of gold coins beneath her.

She had never been afraid of someone she had loved so much. And the feeling was akin to a knife sliding in between her ribs.

Several minutes passed until Adeon reappeared, and when he did, he was clutching a handful of silvery-green leaves. He knelt down in front of her and extended his hand, his lips flickering into a sad little smile when she took it after a moment's hesitation. He then pulled her to her feet and led her down the corridor towards the spring, pulling her gently but insistently by her wrist. As they walked, she stared dubiously down at the mass of leaves in his fist.

When they reached the spring, he turned to face her and kissed the tip of her nose. "Take off your dress," he ordered gently, and she regarded him distrustfully for a moment before complying. Sex was the last thing on her mind right now, but he didn't seem to have lascivious motives. He followed suit, stripping bare of his newly-tattered clothing, and before she knew it, he had scooped her into his arms and was carrying her slowly into the water with him. She felt her body loosen as the warm water rushed over them, little waves lapping at her collarbone. He released her gently but kept her back lightly pressed against his chest, and then brought a hand to his lips, tearing off a small cluster of leaves with his teeth and transferring it back into his fingers. She watched with thinly-veiled fascination as he pressed the leaves against the row of shallow wounds on her shoulder, and her eyes widened with surprise as her pain immediately subsided.

"What on earth," she said softly, trailing off in awe. Beneath the leaves, the scratches were fading slowly. He tugged another cluster off with a snap, then pressed a new layer of leaves tightly against her skin.

"Silver ivy," he answered. "It's unpleasant to eat, but does wonders for wounds."

"Oh," was all she said. He leaned his head against her other shoulder, watching the leaves work with a distant expression.

"Just two nights ago," he finally said, "you told me that you weren't afraid of me." She turned to look at him, and the look on his face was apprehensive. "You aren't afraid of me now, are you?" he finished quietly, and she gazed pensively down at the bottom of the pool.

"Maybe a little, when you're angry," she admitted. "You're a bit terrifying."

"I don't mean to be."

"I know." She glanced at the scratches underneath the leaves, only a little surprised to find that they had become thin, silvery scars. He followed her gaze and removed the branches from her skin, examining the area closely before placing the leaves on the floor of the cavern. A single leaf fell from the cluster and dropped into the pool, and she watched as it drifted lazily away from them, traveling on the thin ripples that were blooming from the outlines of their bodies. His hands slid down the length of her torso under the water, the tips of his nails scraping lightly over her skin, and she shivered at his touch.

"I don't want you to be scared of me," he whispered, and she could hear the desperation in his voice. His words echoed in a rhythmic rush throughout the otherwise silent room.

"I don't want to be scared of you either," she said softly, and after a moment's hesitation, she turned in his arms until she was facing him and kissed his cheek. He gently captured the side of her jaw with his fingers and tilted her chin upwards, kneeling down to press his mouth hard against hers and letting out a soft noise of relief when she kissed him back. His fingers played gently against the base of her spine, and she absentmindedly wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him. When she pulled back, he was watching her as if in a trance, and he slowly pulled out of her arms and clambered out of the pool, reaching down to lift her up with him.

She shivered as the cool air brushed over her wet skin, but then he was crushing her body against him, covering her neck and shoulders with deep, soft, wet kisses and trailing his fingers down to her buttocks. She let out a little noise of protest, but her misgivings were short-lived as he lifted her into his arms and folded his legs into a sitting position, keeping her pressed against his chest so she was sitting on his lap.

His hands gently guided her hips until she felt his tip pressed against her lips, and then he was lowering her onto him with a slow sort of need, taking in a soft hiss of breath in between his teeth as he filled her. Their bodies were still slick with water, and she felt her breasts slide against his torso as she gave her hips a soft, experimental thrust. He let out a soft moan and leaned his forehead against hers, watching her with a burning, half-lidded gaze. His hands gripped the small of her back, raising her and gently pulling her back down so he could slowly plunge into her again, and she lifted her head to brush her mouth against his. Even on top of him, the top of her head barely passed his nose, and something about sitting in his lap like this, and the way those long fingers encircled her waist, made her feel so incredibly small.

He continued to move her body with his hands and she followed his motions with her hips, shuddering as she lowered herself down onto him again and felt his length slide into her in its entirety. His lips found her neck and moved slowly against her flesh, and his hands urged her on, like she was the cure for some horrible sickness, like he would certainly die without her. "Catherine," he moaned against her skin. His grip tightened on her hips and he pulled her down a little harder this time, thrusting deep into her. She gave a soft little cry, and he raised one hand to shakily frame her jaw with his fingers, brushing his thumb across her parted lips. She kissed the pad of his thumb, closing her eyes blissfully as he pushed into her again. They were entwined like something carved from marble, and she began to buck against him a little faster, a warm, quivery sensation blossoming from in between her thighs to the tips of her fingers. She gave one last sway of her hips and collapsed against his chest as her body dissolved in a series of shuddering jerks, exhaling a single, unsteady moan into his ear.

In a single, fluid movement, he had lowered her underneath him, holding the small of her back with one hand and bracing his other arm on the ground as he took her hard, fast. He pounded urgently into her, breathing hard against her lips, and she tangled her fingers into his long, white hair, kissing him deeply, silently coaxing him on. Her limbs felt limp, and all there was in her whole world was the feeling of him moving inside of her in long, desperate strokes. His hands clenched into fists, and he gave two last hard thrusts of his hips before exhaling shakily and lowering his mouth to nip her shoulder gently. They lay there in silence for a moment, but then he stroked the side of her jaw and moved his mouth closer to her ear.