Treasure

I know I kept a lot of you waiting for this submission, and I'm so sorry for that. It was rude. But here it is! Nearly six months and fifty-five pages later! (sob) All I can say is I hope it was worth the wait---I tried my damnedest to make it that way.

Hunker down, it's a long one.

*****

The weather was remarkably sunny and warm for a midwinter's day.

Catherine gazed out at the busy marketplace in front of her, crammed full with travelling merchants' carts and farmers hoping to sell the the last of their harvests. The smell of spilled ale was heavy in the air, along with a faint aroma of baked apples. She jumped as she felt a warm palm envelop her hand. Adeon was suddenly at her side, and she wondered how she possibly couldn't have noticed him as he began to lead her forward. He was wearing that hat to hide his eyes---the one with the massive plume in it that probably would have looked ridiculous on anyone else.

As she browsed the merchants' wares and clung contentedly to Adeon's hand, she was suddenly struck with a horrible pang of realization. There was something she had forgotten to do, but for the life of her, she couldn't remember what it was. That frustrating feeling of impending doom only grew with every step, and she finally stopped dead in the middle of the marketplace.

"Aren't we running late?" she asked Adeon, but he just shook his head.

"You worry too much," he said.

There was a naggingly familiar figure lurking in her peripheral vision, and when she turned to get a better look, she spotted Eugene seated in the window of a busy pub. He gave her a grim smile of acknowledgement and toasted her with his ale tankard, but said nothing. There was still blood on his chin. Across the table from him, Richard was conversing pleasantly with Leda, who seemed to be embroidering a shield with spools of golden thread.

A black shape passed in front of her, momentarily obscuring her vision, and when she looked up, she saw Grindel weaving his way through the crowd. He paused, glanced back at her from over his shoulder, and then tipped her a wink before vanishing behind a group of soldiers.

Somebody screamed.

Catherine's head turned towards the source of the noise, and she saw a well-dressed little girl standing not more than five feet in front of her, her tiny knuckles white over the fabric of her mother's sleeve. Her brown eyes were wide circles of horror, her limbs were trembling, and, as Catherine watched, she lifted her other hand to point a chubby finger right at Catherine's face before belting out another horrible shriek. Her mother glanced back at Catherine, and her face, too, contorted into a terrified mask. The whole market abruptly fell into chaos. Glass shattered, walls splintered, steel sang. Villagers trampled wetly over the mangled bodies in the streets, fleeing from the monsters with gaping, hungry maws that followed in close pursuit. Burning houses painted the sky orange and black.

A slender figure emerged from the mass of bodies and smoke, sheathing his sword as he walked. The pronged horns that knifed out from his black hair were dripping with ichor. When he reached Catherine, he dropped gracefully onto one knee and lifted his head to show her his ghostly-pale eyes.

"My Lady," the Unseelie King intoned, his lips splitting into a diabolical smile. Behind him, screaming villagers were being dragged into the shadows by dark things with long, twiglike fingers.

"My love," Adeon said from her side. When she turned to him, he cupped her face in his hands, stroking her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs to brush away the tears. "It's over. We're free." Green scales feathered out from around his eyes as he spoke, and behind his lips, his teeth were lengthening and tapering off into sharp points.

"But I didn't want this," Catherine said. Adeon's hands slid down to her waist, and she suddenly realized that the two of them were perfectly naked, standing barefoot in a quagmire of blood and fire and death.

"Of course you did," he said, his voice a reassuring croon. He kissed her forehead. "All that I've done, Catherine, I've done for you," he said against her skin. "All for you."

Catherine looked out at the ruined city; the crumbling stone walls, the blazing buildings. The screaming around her was building into a deafening crescendo. A dragon soared overhead, blotting out the sun with its wingspan and casting the world into darkness, and she stared helplessly up at Adeon as he smoothed her hair back from her face.

"For you."

And then her eyes snapped open.

At first, there was only blackness. Her heart hammering in her chest, she felt around in the dark until her hand grazed something sleek and warm. Her fingers played over the scaly surface, seeking reassurance in its familiarity, and as her vision adjusted to the dimness of the cavern, she could see the thin, membranous panes of Adeon's wing stretched out above her. He had her tucked in his arms, and his long body was coiled around her. She felt like a very small egg in a very large nest.

His head was resting on the stone floor beside her. As she stared out at him, trying to steady her ragged breathing, his nostrils flared in a sleepy exhale that sent tendrils of hot air rushing over her skin. Brows furrowing in confusion, she reached down and touched her chest, her stomach, her thighs. At some point during the night, apparently, she had been stripped bare.

She shivered and scrunched her legs up to tuck her ice-cold feet beneath one of Adeon's talons. Fragments of memories were beginning to piece themselves together in her half-conscious brain. She remembered twisted trees, grasping fingers, wine-flushed lips...

"My love," Adeon said, and those words sent a javelin of fresh panic through her chest. His eyes were open now, and fixed right on her face. The warmth in his gaze faded to concern when he observed her quivering lips. "Are you cold?"

"I'm fine," she said. Her voice was hoarse, like she hadn't used it in centuries.

With a snake-like motion of his long neck, he lifted his head from the floor and lowered it back into her lap. She hugged the bony ridges of his jaw and rested her forehead against his, relishing his familiar warmth. "You're shaking," he said.

"I had the most

awful

dream..."

"Fairy wine isn't meant for humans. A single glass can drag even the strongest of men into the deepest pits of insanity. Luckily..." One of his talons caressed the skin of her belly. "...you only tasted a drop of it."

Catherine frowned. "Fairy wi---?" she began, but then she stopped short as the events of the day prior came crashing back to her. The sunny clearing. The banquet. The glittering wings. And... "The

wine,"

she said. She looked up at Adeon in a panic. "Oh, gods. Did

I---?"

"No."

"But...my clothes..."

"I can assure you, you remained entirely clothed until we departed the fairy courts," Adeon told her gently. Then he smiled, and she watched uncertainly as a wicked heat flared to life behind his eyes. "But you were just so insistent. I couldn't help myself."

Catherine's cheeks grew warm. "You scoundrel," she teased, but she was racking her brain frantically, trying to remember. The night prior was an intricate tapestry and the wine had taken shears to it, cutting away hours in broad strips. Adeon let out a quiet laugh.

"Don't fret," he said, tipping her chin up with the point of a single claw. "I took very good care of you."

She smiled weakly as a pang of desire stung at her insides. Her eyelids slid shut, and she pressed her mouth against his lower lip.

A low noise sounded from deep in his throat, and she groaned at the tips of his talons began to gingerly explore her flesh. One of them flicked lazily over her left breast, and when her lips fell open in a sigh, the tip of his tongue flooded slowly into her mouth. She opened her eyes to gaze up at him when he withdrew it, feeling dizzy, and sank obediently back against his left palm when he nudged her with his right thumb. His fingers cradled her shoulders, her back, her hips---tilting her back so she was splayed out for him---and then he was skimming his mouth all over her body and watching her writhe against his palm.

She shut her eyes tight as his lips grazed the tender peaks of her breasts. When each rosy nipple was flushed and stiff for him, he let out a rumbling sound of appreciation and began to tease them mercilessly with the tip of his hot, wet tongue. Catherine squirmed, and one of his fingers curled over her shoulders to hold her firmly in place. Her head lolled back as he dragged his mouth lower and lower, his tongue flitting out here and there to caress her skin, and he finally let out a warm gush of breath between her legs.

"Adeon," she breathed, but then his tongue was bathing her in heat, lapping up the wetness between her inner thighs, probing here and there until she was thrashing in his palm. His fingers caged her in, held her fast. Finally, when he had lashed her into a half-delirious, quivering frenzy, she felt his body begin to shift on top of her. Long, warm fingers urged her legs open, a wet mouth crushed itself against hers. Lengths of white hair tickled her skin.

He let out a sigh of satisfaction against her neck as he pushed into her, and she wrapped her legs tightly around him. He moved inside of her slowly, taking his time. Catherine's fingers explored the coiling muscles of his shoulders, stroked the hollow of his throat, skimmed over the swell of his parted mouth. Her eyes closed as he filled her with another languid push of his hips, and she opened her mouth obediently as the pad of his thumb swept over her lips. He tasted like spice and sweat and sex.

"Can't we stay like this?" she sighed before sucking his thumb deeper into her mouth. And she meant it. After all that they had been through, she only wanted to entwine herself around him and spend the day in a drowsy tangle of limbs. She hoped they could. It all felt so slow and warm and perfect, like unwinding in a hot, hot bath at the end of the day. He let out a gravelly noise of delight, still taking her in slow, heavy strokes. "Please?"

"Oh, yes," he whispered into her ear, sending a delicious tremor coursing up her spine. Her shoulders jerked as he caught her earlobe between his teeth and enveloped it with the heat of his mouth.

"Do you mean it?" she insisted, and he lifted his head to look at her. His eyes were bright and slitted with pleasure, but something hopeful glittered in their depths.

"Is that what you want?" he asked softly.

She watched him uncertainly as he skimmed her cheek with his fingertips, and, once again, she was consumed by that nagging feeling that she had completely forgotten something.

And then, everything came slamming back into focus.

She lifted her hands to clutch his shoulders. "What time is it?" she stammered.

"Shh-shh," Adeon whispered, leaning forward to kiss her again, but she just shook her head and fixed him with a pleading stare.

"It's morning," she said. "They're...they're going to need us."

Adeon drew back. His lips thinned into a stern line as he studied the look of desperation on her face.

Then, wordlessly, he knotted his hand in her hair and began to fuck her

hard,

. She let out a wail as his hips slammed against her thighs, and he tugged fiercely at her hair to expose her throat to his hungry mouth. Catherine screwed her eyes shut, lost in the punishing way he was using her and the sharpness of his teeth against her skin. Soon enough, he found his release.

He gasped into her neck as he emptied into her, then pulled himself out of her arms and rose shakily to his feet, leaving her trembling and half-fulfilled on the cavern floor. When she examined the hall around her, she was only half-relieved to find it entirely empty.

"Where has everyone gone?" she asked quietly, standing with a little difficulty. Her legs were wobbly from exhaustion and Adeon's ferocity. Her knapsack was nestled in a nearby corner, and she quickly began to root through it.

Adeon said nothing. Biting her lip, she turned back to her clothes.

She held up a bodice, began to unlace it, then tossed it impatiently to the side and wrestled herself into her blue dress. "Adeon," she said once her head had emerged from the confines of the fabric. He was leaning against the rock wall, keeping his gaze trained on the floor. "Adeon," she repeated. "Please---"

"What exactly do I have to do," he said slowly, "to make you understand how dangerous this is?"

Catherine pursed her lips. "Are you honestly going to tell me---"

"This isn't another little brawl, Catherine. This is battle. There will be

thousands

of them, and they won't hesitate to kill you or..." He broke off with a shudder. "...or hurt you," he finished in a strained voice.

She hid her trepidation behind a stern glare. "So you'd leave me here. Alone." He rolled his eyes.

"Yes. Here. Alone.

Away

from the men who are trying to kill us," he said.

"You can't expect me to sit here and worry about you!" she shouted. "And what if you

lose?

What if they search the caves---what am I supposed to do if---"

"You seem to have forgotten," he interrupted wryly, "that I would die before I let that happen."

"Yes," she muttered, "I expect you would. And I don't want to take that chance."

With a strangled groan, Adeon stumbled forward and drew her up against his chest. "Catherine," he sighed, holding her fast as she tried to wrestle away from him. It was a futile exercise, of course. His arms were as unrelenting as stone pillars. "Catherine," he repeated after a moment, and she glowered fiercely at him.

"Catherine,"

he said again, with an air of diminishing patience, and she finally crossed her arms and went still. Seemingly satisfied, he leaned in close. "You must understand. I don't doubt your competence," he told her. "I only doubt my sanity if something were to happen to you. I couldn't bear it." He knelt to kiss her, but she ducked away from him wearing an incredulous look.

"And you think

I

could? Is that why you won't let me help you?" she demanded.

Adeon's jaw set. "You're being ridiculous," he said, and his eyes dropped suddenly to her stomach. "And in your condition---"

"My WHAT?"

Adeon let out a long, calming breath. "Last night, you told me that you would do anything to keep me from worrying about your safety," he said slowly. "Didn't you mean it?"

Catherine's face went slack with disbelief. "That isn't fair," she said. "I wasn't myself." He released her with a rather abrupt look of annoyance.

"So it was the wine talking," he snapped. "How charming."

"Adeon---"

But Adeon, apparently, had reached the end of his rope.

"I have given

everything

for your happiness, Catherine!" he shouted, and she flinched back. He screwed his eyes shut and covered his face with his fingers, trying to compose himself. When he dropped his hands, the expression on his face was so mournful and angry that it made her heart lurch. "I didn't need it," he continued. "I needed you. You've become more...

necessary

to me that I could have ever imagined, and I honestly don't know if I could survive without you. I would happily die trying to keep you safe rather than live in this miserable world without you." He rested his forehead against hers. "Even the thought of it is agony."

Catherine winced, but there was a part of her that was fuming over his words. Did he think she would have a better time of it? That she could just continue on like nothing had happened?

"Do this one thing, Catherine," he said gently, as if he could sense her conviction splintering. "Do it for me. Please."

With an increasing feeling of hopelessness, Catherine slumped her shoulders and looked mournfully down at her slippers. "...Alright." He closed his eyes and pulled her into him again, molding her against his torso. She kept her arms folded tightly over her chest. "But I won't like it," she muttered.

"I don't care," Adeon sighed. She could hear the smile in his voice. She tried to mask her gloomy expression as he pulled away, and, in a worryingly abrupt change of mood, he knelt down to smile brightly at her before offering her his palm. "You're precious when you pout."

"You're used to getting your way, aren't you?" Catherine said, but after a brief moment of moody hesitation, she slipped her hand into his and followed him down the corridor. He was still stark naked. She wondered if the entire cave was going to be that way this morning, and the thought of being surrounded by crowds of nude, humanoid bodies filled her with a certain amount of dread.

"Very much so," Adeon agreed. "Which is, I'm certain, the reason I find you so infuriating."

Catherine shook her head, her eyes searching the dimness of the corridors for movement as voices began to emerge from their depths. Absentmindedly, her other hand rose to touch her stomach. Her fingers slid against the fabric of her dress, tracing the expanse of her belly. The past two days had been so hectic, she simply hadn't had the time to think about the future. It had become some vague, imaginary thing lurking just outside of her reach. She looked up at Adeon, who was watching the walls pass with an expression of deep contemplation, and briefly allowed herself to wonder what a life with him would be like. A normal life. As normal as it could be, anyway, when there was almost certainly a half-dragon child growing inside of her.

A

child.

The idea filled her with giddiness and unease. What would that child be

like?

Where would they go to raise it? What...what would they

name

it?

She opened her mouth to articulate some of these thoughts to Adeon, but immediately clamped it shut when she saw the heavy shadows under his eyes. Adeon was being tortured enough. The last thing she wanted to do was force him to dwell over her...'condition'.

A familiar copper gleam caught her eye from up ahead, and Catherine realized that they had were approaching Sher, who was looking rather worse for wear. Her steps were slow, her head was bowed, and the confident line of her shoulders had been beaten into a weary droop. She, like Adeon, was also completely nude, but Catherine found her nakedness relatively easy to accept now that she wasn't splayed out on a dinner table to be devoured like a festival boar. As Catherine watched, she lifted a shaky hand and combed several coppery strands of hair out of her face.

"Sher," Catherine called, and when she turned to look at the two of them, her eyes were squinted with agony. Catherine winced when she realized that her shout had reverberated off of the stone walls, and she lowered her voice to something near a whisper before continuing. "How are you feeling?"

Sher watched her blankly. "I think there are words to describe this sort of discomfort, but in my current state, I can't seem to recall any of them. Not that it's any of your business." Catherine found herself relieved by the hostility in her voice. Sher was sober again.

"Is Shax nearby? Is he with Roane?" she asked, and Sher rolled her slitted eyes before turning and resuming her steady trudge towards the entrance.

"I don't much care where they are. I'm going for a bath."

"A

bath?"

Catherine repeated. She unconsciously reached up and touched her hair, which had withered into a single wretched, oily, windswept tangle that hung all the way down to her hips. Even though she had donned clean clothes, her skin felt like it was covered in a thick layer of sweat and grime. She flushed when she remembered how she had been writhing naked against Adeon only minutes ago. She was certain he didn't mind, but the idea of him seeing her so filthy was still mortifying. Clutching her skirts and ignoring Adeon's noise of dissent, she hurried forward to Sher's side. "I'd like to come with you," she said brightly.