About a Dragon
No sounds, except for snoring. Relatively loud snoring, too. Must be fierce, blood-thirsty monsters with that level of snoring.
Talaith opened her eyes and looked around the room. Candles and a lit pitfire illuminated everything quite nicely without hurting her eyes.
Morfyd slept in a chair, curled up like a cat. Fearghus leaned against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. Éibhear slept flat on the floor, his arms and legs stretched out. She didn’t envy the female who would have to sleep next to him for the next eight hundred years. Surprisingly, he wasn’t the one snoring. That honor went to Gwenvael. Asleep in a big chair, his big, long legs stretched out in front of him, his head thrown back, he snored like a giant bear. Grinning, her gaze moved to the form of her daughter. Izzy sat on a bench by the window, her legs pulled up, her chin resting on her knees. Awake, she stared out the window into the dark night.
And sitting right next to her, Briec. Like Izzy and Fearghus, he was awake, but he stared straight at Talaith, waiting for her to notice him probably. Arrogant bastard.
They stared at each other silently. For once, Talaith knew words were unnecessary. She could see everything she needed to see in Briec’s face. In the way his eyes watched her and his relief at seeing her awake.
“Mum?”
Talaith again looked at Izzy and smiled.
“Mum!” The girl scrambled off the bench and dived across the bed, landing in Talaith’s outstretched arms. She hugged her daughter tight, letting the girl hold on to her and cry into her neck.
Morfyd stood. “It’s good to see you awake, sister.” She pushed Gwenvael’s shoulder. “Wake up.”
Startled, Gwenvael sat up screaming, “I never touched her!”
Morfyd rolled her eyes and headed toward the door. “You are a constant source of embarrassment, little brother. Fearghus, follow me.”
Fearghus nodded at Talaith and followed his sister out. Gwenvael stood and stretched. “Talaith, my love.”
“Gwenvael, my pain.”
Chuckling, he reached down, grabbing hold of Éibhear’s hand, and dragged the still-sleeping dragon from the room.
Finally, Briec stood. A soft smile on his lips, he headed toward the door, his eyes never leaving Talaith’s face. He stopped at the doorway to look at her one more time before he walked out, softly closing the door behind him.
“Izzy?” Talaith forced her daughter back, staring intently at her. “Are you all right?”
Tears streaming down her face, she nodded.
“Are you sure?”
She couldn’t remember much after talking to Rhydderch Hael.
“I’m fine, Mum. I am.”
“Arzhela?”
A strange expression passed over her daughter’s features, but was gone so quickly, Talaith wasn’t sure if it was a play of the shifting light or not. “Gone now. I don’t think she’ll be back.”
“Did she suffer?”
“Yes. I believe she did.”
Talaith pulled Izzy back into the safety of her arms. “Good. That makes me smile.”
“Me, too, Mum. Me, too.”
* * *
Annwyl leaned back in the tub, sighing heavily. She’d finally worn herself out. Somewhere during her fight with that last battalion and setting fire to the still-decaying and screaming remains of Hamish, she’d lost her energy to continue fighting. She left her men to clean up and rode back to Garbhán Isle with her elite guard. After removing most of the blood using the well near the stables and cleaning the blood and gore off Violence, she’d returned to her room. The servants filled her tub with hot water and quickly disappeared. They wouldn’t look at her, mostly because they’d seen her decimate the Great Hall hours before.
The bedroom door opened and Fearghus walked in. He didn’t look at her either. He simply walked into the room, placed a bottle of wine on a side table by the window, and proceeded to remove his clothes.
“What’s that?” Annwyl motioned toward the bottle of wine.
He barely glanced at her. “It’s from Morfyd. Should you need it.”
She’d suffered no wounds during battle. At least nothing that needed anything more than some of Morfyd’s ointments. Unless it was for her other “problem”.
“How’s Talaith?”
“Awake.”
“Good.” She probably should apologize to Talaith. She wasn’t sure, but she may have thrown a chair at the woman’s head. And a table.
Fearghus dropped his clothes to the floor as was his way. She expected him to go to bed but instead he walked over to the tub and stared down at her.
“You’re not going to shove me under the water, are you?”
He finally smiled. “Move up a bit.” She did and he got in behind her, his long legs on either side of her. “Back.”
She leaned back, relaxing against Fearghus’ chest.
“Feel better?”
“Now that I’ve decimated an entire army and set Hamish’s rotting corpse aflame…I don’t feel half bad.”
“Good.” Big arms wrapped around her and Annwyl let herself relax with the only being she ever let herself relax around. “We’ve got decisions to make, love.”
“I know,” she sighed out. “I know we do.”
“Before you met me did you want a family? Children?”
“To be quite honest, I never thought I’d live this long. So I never thought of it as an option. You?”