Chapter Nine
Libelle felt paralyzed, it felt as though dark power constricted around her neck and choked her. She was left weak, gasping for air as she flailed wildly in the pitch black world she was being held captive in. Her feet could not find solid ground beneath her, her hands reaching out into nothingness. She was trapped, there was nothing she could do: it terrified her more than anything.
Her vision was useless as she stared out into the empty world, she screamed and cried out. Pleading for someone to help her, but her voiced never echoed: she was muted. Some of her senses were not working, she could only feel pain and hear the deep growls that thundered around her. The demonic sounding voices rumbled, growing closer and closer to her. By the Gods, she just wanted to be free of this wretched prison.
“Slayer. Murderer.” The grumbling voices echoed.
“Leave me be!” She cried out, twisting and pulling at the invisible power that bound her.
The voices repeated the word, even closer to her. She tried to pull away, crying and yelling at her capturers. The power that coiled around her like a snake, tightened and squeezed around her entire body. Her bones groaned against the force before she felt the calcium based organs crack.
The beings with the thunder-like voices were all around her, she had no escape. Her bones snapped again, this time the fractures turning into complete breaks. She wanted to scream at the terrible pain, again nothing came out. The force around her squeezed again, her head snapped back and her eyes went wide.
“Slayer.”
Libelle stared into the vast darkness, the intense pain becoming more than what she could handle. She felt tears falling down her cheeks, she felt the beings hot breath against her skin. What was going to become of her?
“Murderer.”
The darkness erupted with burning light, an explosion of flames erupting from multiple fanged mouths all around her: engulfing her body in the searing heat. There was no escape, she was done for.
Libelle’s eyes opened suddenly as she shot up from the bed, the blankets fluttering down towards her feet. She was drenched in a cold sweat, breathing hard and trembling. It was a dream, a terrifying and horrible dream. She flinched when a flash of lightning lit up her room, shadowing the many objects cluttered around the table tops and floors. She rubbed the raised hairs on her arms, glancing around her surroundings as she tried to slow her breathing. Another flash of lightning, but this time she saw a pair of golden eyes staring at her through the dark. She swallowed hard, fearing that she might still be dreaming.
The gold eyes disappeared for a moment, then reappeared closer to her bed side. Another flash of lightning, and Eskil stood next to her bedside. “You were dreaming? What of?”
She was still breathing hard, staring at him with a surprised expression. It really was only a dream, she told herself while raising her knees to her chest where she wrapped her arms over her knees with long sigh.
Eskil stared down at her, she seemed incredibly weak and pathetic as she curled up into a ball on the bed. She had been crying out in her sleep for the last hour or so, thrashing about in the blankets while she was dreaming. He wondered what was troubling her yet didn't know how to ask her about it. Her body was trembling as if she were sitting in a snow bank in the middle of a winter storm.
Strangely, he wanted to comfort her. Seeing her tremble like this, was not bringing pleasure to him; instead it made his chest ache, he felt angst that she appeared so inconsolable. He rubbed his brows, the conflicting emotions causing his own turmoil. Before he had been cursed by her magic, he would have gladly taken advantage of her weakness. He would sink his fangs into her flesh, tearing her limb from limb. He would scorch her flesh, and when her strong soul left her body he would take his time and enjoy its taste.
But I don't want to do any of that right now. He slowly sat down onto the bed beside her, she didn't look up at him but he was able to clearly see her tense up. Another flash of lightning brightened their room, and a crash of thunder shook the glass window. The candle beside the bed was already half way through the wax, but the flame still provided enough light to see her.
“Slay- Libelle.” He spoke calmly, despite emotions welling up inside him that he was unfamiliar with.
She didn't raise her head to look at him, still nestled on her crossed arms. “What?”
“What… what were you dreaming of?”
“Nothing.”
“You were thrashing about in your sleep. You were also crying out. It can't be nothing.”
“It’s nothing. Really.”
He snorted, “Liar.”
Libelle glared at him, her eyes bloodshot and glimmering with unfallen tears. “What concern is it to you death-bringer?”
The familiar feeling of rage burned in his stomach and tried burning its way up his throat. He grabbed hold of her arms and forcefully pulled them from around her legs, slamming them backwards into the pillow behind her.
She fell back with the force, staring at him surprised as he glowered over her. He bared his teeth at her, “You told me to call you by your name and not your title. I will demand the same of you. You. Will. Not. Call. Me. Death-bringer Understand?”
Hesitatingly she nodded. He sighed, lowering his head as he collected his thoughts. He could hear her rapid heartbeat over her shaky breaths. He brought his head back up to look at her.
“What were you dreaming of? It’s not like you to tremble, especially when it's not me causing your fear.”
“It doesn’t matter. It was just a dream.”
“Then why do you look like you're about to cry?”
She looked more surprised than before, then she just appeared sad. “It was just a dream Eskil. I do not understand why you're even concerned about me.”
I do not understand either. “Suppose it is just my curiosity.”
“I’d rather not talk about it. I’d rather roll back over and go to sleep.”
He snickered at her, she was far from being able to go back to sleep. “Tell me, and I’ll let you.”
She sighed, trying to sit up but his hands did not budge from her wrists. She was pinned beneath him, yet strangely found his closeness and warmth comforting. “It was just a nightmare.”
He leaned down, his side positioned across her waist. He released her wrists then, resting his head in one palm and his other hand sitting by her side. She rubbed her wrists, then crossing her fingers over her chest. She was chewing on her lip again, staring at the ceiling. The candlelight flickered suddenly, it crackled, then returned to burning normally.
“What was it about?”
Her fingers twitched, “I'm not sure really.”
“Tell me about it, do you remember what happened?”
She exhaled slowly. “All I remember is that it was dark, I couldn't see anything. Everything hurt and there were voices calling out to me. Then it was bright, hot. Like I was surrounded in fire, burning alive. That’s when I woke up.”
He snorted. “That doesn't sound like something that should scare you. It's so… simple.”
A little bit of darkness, some voices and fire? She experiences those situations on a daily basis, he was right: it shouldn't scare her. Yet the intense fear she felt when she was unable to call for help, when the voices grew closer and louder; when the beasts mouths opened, revealing rows of pearly fangs. Then they erupted in enormous blasts of fire that burned every nerve ending in her body.
“Do you dream often?” He asked.
She nodded. “Almost every night.”
“Are they always bad dreams?”
Another nod. A feeling of possessiveness overcame him, and all he wanted to do was comfort her. He wanted to take away her nightmares, he wanted to her to sleep peacefully. Gods, I have many questions for you all that you must answer.
“Why do you even want to know? It’s not like you care about me.”
Even more to his surprise, her words painfully struck him. “No, it's not that I care. I… I just want to know.”
She eyed him wearily. “Why?”
“I don't know.” He shrugged. “What do you normally dream of?”
She held her breath and he could see she was thinking of her answer. “Pain. Death and despair. Fire, lots of fire.”
He smiled wide, “Sounds pleasant.”
“I don’t know if anything about that sounds pleasant.” He just smiled at her. “Do you dream at all?”
His smile faded, when she turned the questions on him. Yes he dreamed, but it was not like he was about to share. “I don't remember my dreams.”
“That sounds like something one would say so they don't have to tell others about them.”
He heard the light hearted tone in her voice and chuckled. “You’ve caught me.”
Both remained silent, simply staring at each other’s faces as the light from the candle reflected off of their skin. The rain outside sounded to slow, the crashing sound of thunder resonated further in the distance. If the rain would pass and clouds recede, they may have been able to see the stars. Libelle tilted her head at him. “Eskil? What really happened that started the war between the dragons and mortals?”
This time his eyes widened in surprise. “Why are you asking me that now?”
“Well, we’ve never really been able to talk like this.”
She’s right, he thought. “What do you know of the war?”
“Not much really, so much of it has been lost throughout the years. The books that told of the war has been lost. All I know is that the war started after your … partner was killed by a mortal.”
His brows narrowed and his expression turned dark. “There is so much wrong in that description, it's pitiful. Did my brother Vegeir not speak to you about the subject at all?”
“No, he seemed to avoid the subject whenever I brought it up. Why?”
His teeth ground together. “Because he betrayed me.” Anger boiled throughout him, his body began to feel flush with rage. He took a moment, inhaling and exhaling slowly to calm himself.
“The war started after a long series of events, and it was not so simple. Búri, the father of Borr who is the father of Odin, created the race of dragons. I was the first to be born, and as such I was titled the dragon prince. At the beginning of everything, dragon’s outnumbered the mortal races. Your kin, elves were greater in numbers. As were dwarves, the drow, and man were considered more… well less than they are now.
“Dragons were able to ‘get along’ with the mortals for a short period, and our relationship with the elves was actually greatest. Man grew jealous of the peace between the elves and dragon, which led to a war that nearly eradicated your kind. Dragon’s stayed out of the business of mortals, we did not want to go to war. The only reason we went to war is because the Nordic men started targeting our nesting grounds.”
Libelle put her hands behind her head while she listened to him, his story intriguing and important to her. Eskil seemed to speak the truth, and sadly she had no one else to ask who could tell her the same story: but from their perspective. He remained lying across her waist, his head propped up on one hand while the other toyed with the leather lacings of her shirt.
“For a short time, we sought peace with mankind. But the talk of peace quickly turned to bloodshed. Not long after, we learned of traitors among the dragon race. They were aiding mortals, killing their own kind, and that’s when we learned of the first slayer. This war has been longer, and more complicated than you were led to believe. There are more details I could go into, but at this moment: it's pointless.”
“Why did the Gods not intervene?”
“I wish I knew. Sometimes, they meddle in situations they should not. Like this one, the magic that Loki provided you, if he hadn’t I-” He gestured towards himself. “-would not look like this.”
“Why was peace unable to be attained? If both parties wanted it, what stopped it?”
He gritted his teeth again, stretching his neck. “It’s complicated.”
“It can't be terribly complicated.”
He exhaled slowly again, his nostrils flaring as he felt himself growing impatient with the conversation. “A friend, she was murdered during the meeting.”
“Oh.” She stared at him with a questioning expression, then glancing at the candle that had roughly a quarter amount remaining. “Was it a dragon or mortal who killed her?”
“No, yes, in a way it was both. One of the kings of the land joined forces with the dragons who betrayed me, they killed her during the peace talk. They knew that if I lost her, that I would not be able to contain my fury.”
“She was that important to you?”
“She was.”
She went silent again, the two staring at inanimate objects around the room while listening to the gentle rain fall. She felt calmer, the images of her nightmare fading as their conversation progressed. Eskil had provided more information than she expected, but she greatly appreciated the new facts. The dragons did not start out as the cruel and merciless rulers she thought they were. It made more sense now once she learned what had happened, but it didn't change the fact that here they were, still at war.
“Do you still want to be at war? With mortals, I mean.”
“Honestly, I don't know how to answer that. My hatred for your kind knows no bounds, but the killing cannot continue. Eventually, one of our races will die out.” He sarcastically laughed. “I think yours will be the first, your bodies are so weak and fragile. Besides, your only one of a few slayers left in existence: you can't hope to slay all of us.”
Her expression turned solemn and she looked away. “I hope it doesn't come to that.”
Eskil sighed again, the more he laid here with her, the more relaxed and tired he became. It was unnatural how comfortable he was being near her like this. She felt warm and soft, it was surprising. He was laying across a dragon slayer, he wasn't trying for her life, nor was she trying for his. It was… strange. His mind was getting fuzzy, and his eyelids were growing heavy. Libelle looked at him confused. “Eskil?”
Once again, everything went dark. Libelle flinched when Eskil’s eyes closed, his head slipping from his hand and onto her chest. Her blush was almost instant, and she held in her squeak of surprise. He was already in a deep sleep, a faint snore passing his parted lips. In the dim light, his expression was peaceful.
She tried moving away from him, pushing up with her arms and trying to slide upwards in the bed. Instead, Eskil made a growl-like noise in his sleep and wrapped his arms around her. His cheek rubbed against her chest with a sigh, scooting his body further onto the bed while making himself comfortable.
Libelle froze, unsure what to do. Her arms remained above her head while she stared down at her defenseless foe. He had let his guard down, he allowed himself to appear incredibly weak in front of her. Why?
Eskil woke early in the morning, bright sunlight was shining in through the window and illuminating the room. He didn't want to wake yet, so he snuggled back into the warm and comfortable pillow… That had a heart beat? A fast one at that.
He raised his head and realized he was laying on Libelle. Her cheeks were pink, her expression tired with dark circles beneath her eyes. Her hands were resting on the pillow beside her head and she was chewing on her lower lip.
He quickly realized that he had fallen asleep sprawled out on top of her, and he had been like that half the night. He pushed himself up, staring down at her embarrassed self. “Ah, good morning.”
“G-good morning as well.”
“Eh-hem. Did you sleep well?”
“Not a wink. You?”
“Like a bairn.”
“Ah, that's good. Do you mind getting off of me? You’re heavy.”